Season 3, Episode 4
Written by Tof Eklund
Read by Tawn Krakowski
WARNING: Although there is no material subject matter within that couldn’t be found in any general bookstore with no age constraint, this series is rated 18 and contains adult situations and content. It is intended for mature audiences only, and should not be read if you are uncomfortable with graphical sexual intimacy.
I wasted no time peeling us both out of our clothes. I left the one glove on, and Kaye noticed it for the first time.
“Yelen, how?” he asked, taking my left hand in his own.
“Lily found it,” I replied.
“Amazing,” he said, and lifted my hand to his lips, placing soft, quick kisses all over my exposed fingers and palm.
With my right hand, I traced over the ritual lines on Kaye’s broad chest and slender thighs. His kisses came faster and then suddenly stopped as he squirmed and panted. As on our first night together, he glowed. This time it was a sheen of sweat and shimmering desire that made him radiant, not ancient magic, but it was just as amazing to me.
“Yelen,” he gasped.
“Yes, Kaye?” I whispered.
I burst into laughter and he joined me.
“Let me see what I can do about that,” I said, and turned my fingernails upon him.
“Harder!” he cried.
I dug my fingers in and raked across the glyphs, leaving pink lines on his pale skin that grew redder where they intersected those potent images. I felt like a panther toying with her prey as I slashed at him.
Kaye made a low, rumbling noise of satisfaction as I drew a set of parallel lines down his chest and over his hips. His cock stood straight up, the corkscrew line that rose up it reminding me of sambasa, a sweet made from cooked cane syrup and tart dawada pulp. The dawada is added as the candy is being pulled, forming a stripe. Small pieces of sambasa are given to children at holidays. Once, when I was six, I got my hands in an unbroken braid of sambasa, and licked the whole thing, making a sticky mess of my face and hands. My host-mother was horrified: first, because she thought I was bleeding, then because that braid was enough candy for the whole family.
“Sweet sambasa,” I purred, and licked Kaye’s stripe. A few passes up and down his shaft and he was panting and begging incoherently.
I straddled him and pressed the head of his cock up against my swollen labia. I rubbed against him, feeling the heat of his skin on mine, then descended over him, taking in just the tip before sliding very slowly down a little, then back up, then down further.
“Nnnaaaah…” Kaye moaned as I came to rest on his thighs. “Oh, that feels…”
“Itchy?” I teased.
“Ohh…overwhelming,” he groaned as I rose and fell again.
I rose and fell again, and he shuddered.
“I…I…” Kaye stuttered.
I grabbed his chest, dug my nails in again, and lifted up then thrust myself down, hard.
“Yelen, I…I….” Kaye moaned.
“Haaah!” I gasped.
My thighs shook. A liquid feeling of pleasure rushed to my head then ran back to my toes and out to my fingers before returning to pool in my belly.
“I love you…uhh!”
Kaye’s entire body tensed, and I could tell he was about to come. I felt him pressing deep into me with every stroke, felt him jerk inside me.
I kept moving as he shook under me, wanting to draw this moment out.
“Ah…ah…” Kaye’s cock continued to pulse as I wrung every last drop of pleasure from him.
I reluctantly slowed when the burning in my loins was surpassed by the sore ache growing in my thighs, and rolled off of him.
I stretched out next to Kaye and turned to look at him even as he was turning toward me. Our lips met and parted. The tips of our tongues danced, and I felt Kaye’s hand on my thigh. He pressed the kiss and his fingers moved in, under the curve of my belly. I broke the kiss.
“Kaye,” I said, “I already…aaahhh…”
I’d thought I was sated, but his touch, a soft caress that traveled down the line of my slit, proved me wrong. His fingers moved back up my vulva, parting my lips. I felt a little of his seed trickle out of me. I moaned again as his fingers pressed in just above the pearl of my sex.
“You are still hard,” Kaye whispered as he stroked me on either side, “full like a harvest moon.”
“Ah!” I cried out as the pressure built inside me.
“Haa…haa… Haaaaaah!” I came into Kaye’s palm, a sensation like a frozen fire roaring up my spine and making my head spin.
The following fortnight was a blur of sex. We spent as much time as possible in bed, making love until we collapsed together entwined, separating only to eat and for other necessities. After a couple of days, my overtaxed leg muscles were about ready to give out, so we adapted. I discovered the pleasure that could be attained and given by resting my weight on Kaye and rocking my hips back and forth, and he became very good at using his hips to the full extent that his paralysis allowed.
To no-one’s surprise, my moontime did not come except in the form of a few tiny droplets. There were other signs of my quickening, a feeling of fullness in my gut and a new firmness to my belly. Then came the sickness.
It was mid-day, and Kaye and I were completely naked, lying in bed touching each other, talking about having something to eat, when suddenly I felt intensely queasy.
“Without cream is good too,” Kaye said, mistaking my expression for distaste, but I was already up and running for the chamber plot.
There wasn’t much in my stomach, but I kept heaving for some time after it was all gone. I was completely unaware of Kaye’s presence until I felt his hand on my shoulder.
“Yelen, shall I send for…someone?”
I gagged a little, rubbed tears out of my eyes, and turned my head. He was still naked, except for his leg braces and crutches.
“It’s just belly sickness, Kaye,” I croaked. Goddess blight it, I thought, I was starting to think I might be spared this symptom of pregnancy.
“Belly sickness? Wait, are you dawnsick? Isn’t it too late in the day for that?”
I groaned, then retched again. “It can happen any time.”
I couldn’t keep anything down all day, not ever water. The next day was nearly as bad. By the third day I was painfully parched, weak, and experiencing dizziness.
“Hyperemesis,” I said to Lily and Kaye. They blinked. “An extreme form of belly sickness. I may not be able to eat anything but broth for months…possibly the entire length of the pregnancy.”
The intense concern in Kaye’s gaze sharpened further, but Lily nodded.
“I have a recipe from my ma for folks whose stomachs can’t take solid food. Old man Harper got to where he couldn’t swallow a pea without choking, but he lived five years on nothing but ma’s broth and small beer.”
“You’re not talking about that liver soup, are you?” Kaye spoke up, and I’m sure he meant well, but just the memory of that iron-rich but noxious concoction made my stomach flop and twist.
“A’course not!” Lily shot back. “Wouldn’t work if folks puked it all back up again, now would it?”
That was too much. I lurched up and over the chamber pot before retching again. All that came up was stomach acid and saliva, a tiny mercy.
When I turned back to the table where Kaye and Lily sat with hangdog expressions, I felt raw and irritable, but bit back the impulse to tell them off when I saw that look on their faces. It wasn’t any more their fault than mine.
I leaned on the back of Kaye’s chair. “Thank you, Lily,” I said. “I trust your ma’s recipes.”
“Least thing a friend can do,” she replied, brightening in a moment. “Oh! Did you know that the old mouser’s gone?”
“Mouser?” I asked, but Kaye was a step ahead of me.
“Geoff’s gone?” he said, his voice tightening with concern.
“Left before dawn on the fastest horse in the stable.”
“Where’d he go?” Kaye asked.
“I don’t rightly know,” Lily replied, “but he was carrying letters with the Queen’s seal on ’em. I’ll let you know if I find out anything else.”
“Thank you again, Lily,” I said.
“I’d best be going,” Lily replied. “Milord,” she said to Kaye, dropping into a curtsy before turning back to me. “I’ll get a cook working on that broth, Yelena. You just rest for now.”
She left. Kaye and I shared a worried look.
“Any idea what your mother is planning?”
“Trying to find a priest willing to perform the investiture?” he suggested. “It won’t work: most of the high priests are already here, and their circle is the supreme theological authority.”
“Perhaps you should talk to her.”
Kaye sighed. “I’ll try,” he said, “but I don’t think she trusts me.”
“Oh Kaye,” I said.
“I know she loves me, Yelen. Love and trust are different things.” He looked straight at me, and miserable as I felt, my heart leapt a little. “I love you and I trust you.”
“And I you,” I replied.
I was resting when Lily returned with the broth. True to Lily’s word, it was deliciously mild and yet intensely satisfying as I drank it. Despite my worry, it stayed down.
© 2013 Copyright Tof Eklund
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