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The Cimmerian And Two She-Devils update
🕑 Added 2021-04-18 00:00:01 +0000 UTCHe reached to her loincloth, the dangling length of scalemail protecting her womanhood from sight, and followed the tightly woven coins down, the backs of his knuckles brushing the curve of her thickly-muscled thigh. Then he was under the loincloth, between her legs, touching the slick warmth of her inner thigh, so close to her core that he could feel her damp arousal as it leaked out of her.
His engorged cock throbbed with new vigor. He had not come yet, putting Katurah through her paces like a horse being ridden for the first time, but Conan thought he’d been sated. Touching Sonja, though, he felt as if it had been years of chill since he’d had a woman’s warmth.
Though their coloring was alike, both in hair and flesh, there was little else Katurah and Sonja had in common beyond their level of beauty. Sonja’s skin was bronzed from the sun, as best as her pale hide could be, and her body was lithe, creamy skin a well-fitting sheath for her toned muscles and elegant bones. But she had more than enough love in her to match the war on the outside. Her breasts swelled out from her taut chest, full and supple, while the curves of her ass and hips matched the generous muscles of her thighs and arms. And from a thousand miles away, Conan could’ve seen the femininity in her long waves of fiery hair, soft and flickering in the light of the candle. Sonja tossed her head nervously and her mane fluttered like a flock of birds taking flight.
Conan buried his face in the gleaming copper of it, breathing deep to inhale the sweet scent of her flesh, which not even the sweat of the road could eclipse. His lips moved, stirred by hunger to have more of what had whetted his appetite. He moved down her face, his skin nuzzling against hers, leaning close, his breath coming in invigorated pants, his mouth seeking out her lips.
“Ahhh,” Sonja gasped when the heat of his burning breath hit her mouth, followed closely by his tongue, and then her mouth was open and she was letting him kiss her, his tongue hilted in her mouth, his big hands on her arms. They’d always felt so thick and powerful with muscle, but now they, she, felt like a child’s toy in the hands of a giant. She didn’t mind the feeling of vulnerability, of weakness. She knew it must have preceded the ecstasy Katurah had felt as he’d made her his.
Conan would’ve taken a more experienced woman right then, thrown a leg over her heaving body and brought his raging erection inside her, where it desperately belonged—but with her virginity, in spirit if not in fact, he knew such a move would only offend her instincts. He held himself back, though the increasing tension of self-restraint made his cock span and harden like an oak.
His hand moved further up Sonja’s leg, drawing nearer and nearer to what she’d always held as inviolate territory. Now, it was hers to do with as she wanted—and his, as well.
“Hhhng!” she mewled, weakened, unable to summon up the will to do anything but feel the pleasure his sure hands worked out of her.
She felt his blunt, skilled fingers glide through the crimson tangle of her pubic hair, a wide, thick thatch as fleecy and soft as swan down.
“Under all that steel, softness,” Conan said with warmth and admiration. “Just waiting to be felt.”
“Uuuunnh!” Sonja groaned, rolling her hips to meet his hand, writhing her body so hard that her clinging loincloth worked itself down her svelte hips. Conan ignored the disrobing as best he could, though his steely eyes slashed over her lower belly as it came into view, no longer covered by the waistband of her garment. But he focused more on the pad of his finger finding the top of her slit, easing into the pressure produced by her soft, wet lips.
The length of his extended finger brushed against her clit, barely touching it at all, but touching it. The shock of fully tantalizing it would be too much just then, but giving her not enough was just what Conan wanted. As Sonja keened, he eased his finger down, working it deeper into her tight little cunt instead of harder into her clit, so that he was teasing and stirring one sensation as the first blush of the other faded.
Every time Sonja tensed, as if straining for the power to resist but finding her scabbard empty each time. Conan pressed warmly, his finger inside her and his mouth against hers. Blanketing her mind with the heat of passion until it was all she could think about. Her loincloth fell away, her flesh trembling in ways she couldn’t control, seductive motions that invited him into her cunt.
Snatches of memory made up her recollection of the next few moments—falling upon the bed—his strong hands wrenching her boots off. Her anticipation a kind of pleasure all its own.
Sonja’s mind cleared and she felt the warmth of the candle on the nightstand, the soft tingle of the furry bedspread in the restless hollow of her back. Conan straddled her, kneeling on either side of her trim midsection, and reached for her breasts, the last of her to be hidden, still nestled within the scant modesty of her scalemail. His fingers tickled the metal, taking a warrior’s amusement in what little he could feel of her bodily warmth through the cool armor, how she could feel his touch as well through its hiding.
“Not like those swollen udders she had,” Sonja moaned with a touch of sadness, having seen how voluptuously Katurah was built—huge soft teats that she knew Conan must’ve loved to suck and squeeze.
“And yours are firm… perfectly formed.” Conan slid his hands under her chest’s covering, pressing into her creamy breasts, fingers curved, digging into what softness her cleavage did have—and with his sinking touch, that softness did not feel so meager at all.
“Hhhuuuungh!” Sonja husked, thrusting her shoulders back from the needling pleasure that flowed from his caressing fingertips. Then she gasped in pain, feeling her engorged nipples pressing sensitively against the layer of leather she wore beneath her mail, for comfort’s sake. Now, though, he had her so swollen and stiff, and tender, that her nipples raked sorely against even the calf-soft leather. “Conan!” she keened.
Beaming with triumph, Conan helped her out of her brassiere, skirting it up over her head and out of her hair before tossing it aside, pausing only briefly to undo the buckle that held all its straps in tightened place.
Sonja could’ve laughed. Many times she had thought to herself that she felt naked without her sword. Now that she truly was naked—though with her sword close at hand—she didn’t feel vulnerable or exposed. She was too excited for that. Nervous, yes, but the nerves she remembered from the first few times she’d gone into battle. Anxious to see whether she lived or died, as if it were all some great game, with no loss too great for her to bear. That was how she felt now. The worst Conan could do was fail to satisfy her, and she knew from Katurah that she need not concern herself much with the possibility of that.
Conan moved to cover her with his body, kissing her roughly—Sonja expected him to penetrate her at any second, she braced herself so hard that she trembled. She thought he would go to war with her, fight her for the pleasure inside her body. Instead, he flipped them over, laying on his back now, his rock-hard erection stabbing the air.
His harsh hands easily hefted Sonja’s meager weight, positioning her splayed legs over his manhood. Sonja felt like a sacrificial victim upon an altar, about to have the dagger plunged into her breast, only she was the one raised up on high, the dagger waiting below for her to be impaled on it.
Conan saw her unease, flushed though his very flesh was with the burning blood inside him. “Put your hands on my wrists, girl. Press down and I’ll let you down, let the weight of your body take over. That way I won’t hurt you by accident—you’ll control how much you’re getting.”
Sonja smiled at him, thinking how lucky she was to be able to give herself to someone who was rough enough to defeat her, but caring enough, in his own way, to make love to her. “You’re a patient one, for a barbarian.”
“I won’t have to be patient long, by Crom. The more a woman’s had of my spike, the more she wants. And the more she gets, the more she can take!”
“And when she can take no more?” Sonja asked.
He grinned at her. “She can take no more when I can give no more. And I’ve had this to give to you since we first met!”
Sonja did as he’d asked, pushing down on his thick wrists and letting an inch of his massive prick split her untested pussy.
Conan sighed contentedly to be entering her. “Crom, you’ve a ready sheath! So tight I’d sooner take you for a wet dream than a woman!”
“Believe me true or false, so long as you please this wet dream until your morning waking!”
Sonja felt like a pot of melted butter on the inside, but Conan’s thick member was still only barely able to enter her hot passage. She still took more of him, pressing down on his wrists, sinking her body down onto his throbbing manhood, sighing as it entered into her far further than any, raper or her own fingers, had ever gone.
Conan knew how to make this moment of stretching discomfort painless for the maiden. Needing only one hand to bear Sonja’s weight, he reached up with the other, took her plump breast in hand, and kneaded the sensitive flesh, his thumb and forefinger on the nipple, squeezing it to the point where the intensity was indistinguishable from pain.
“Oooooh! I’ve never felt such a thing before!” Sonja moaned, dropping her full weight down on his hardness as a spasm of rippling ecstasy went through her clenched sex.
She was stretched taut, almost broken by the size of his manhood, but the wonderful sense of fullness that came from having her pussy so thickly stuffed more than offset the flash of pain she felt at having to accommodate all of his bulky erection.
“It feels heavenly, Conan! Oh, sweet Erlik, more—more—more!” Sonja cried, her eyes shut in ecstasy.
Conan was too overcome with the tight wetness of her sucking chamber to speak. He could only bounce his hips up and down until Sonja picked up the cadence he wanted her to use. She followed it dutifully, almost hypnotically, the only thing able to compel her to keep moving through her haze of pleasure being the promise of still more delights, the orgasmic tremors that shook her as his body and hers moved in rhythm.
The supple redhead slid herself up and down the heated length of his erection once and nearly passed out from the ecstasy of feeling his girthy length ride against her clit. “By all the gods… by everything in the heavens… ughhhh!” Sonja gasped mindlessly, too excited by the sensations blasting through her cunt to even remember the antipathy she’d once had to sex, the reluctance. “Why haven’t I done this before? So hot, so hard, so… so MUCH!”
Sonja humped frenziedly, feeling another taste of the sumptuous pleasure she’d had before on her lips again. Her peach of an ass went up and down like she was riding a galloping horse, Conan’s girthy prick sliding in and out of her. Her flaming hair flew around her naked shoulders, she grunted with exertion and moaned with pleasure, her womanhood suckling at Conan’s shaft as it took all the demands of her hungry cunt.
Conan no longer had his hands on her hips, controlling Sonja’s plunging descents. Her own need had taken over brilliantly. He moved them instead to the frantic woman’s breasts, squeezing and caressing to add to both their pleasure.
He felt her inner folds convulse around his cock, Sonja whimpering weakly with the force of her climax—reduced to girlhood by her enjoyment even as she remained a warrior in her demand for more. She both sobbed with joy and cursed blasphemously as the full power of her body’s violent rapture gripped her, holding her tight in a shuddering embrace.
Conan gave into her pussy’s clenching tightness, knowing she would not be able to take more anyway after this release had vented all her need. “HHUHH!”
“FUUUUUCK!” Sonja cried, feeling the first jets of his scalding cum shoot from his thrusting cockhead. “OH! YES! UGHH! IT—FEELS—PERFECT!” she mewled as the glow of white-hot seed filled her, the warmth permeating her body like a wineskin stuffed too full. She thought the feeling of his driving prick had filled her, but now she felt utterly possessed, entirely his.
The molten heft of Conan’s thickly spurting cum heightened Sonja’s delicious enjoyment until she feared she would pass out, once more giving Conan the chance to slip away without satiating the urges he had awakened. Despite how sated she was, so heavily laden with cum she felt her ability to move quickly draining away from her, Sonja still wanted more.
She felt as though she’d filled her belly to bulging at a feast, only the food tasted too good to stop. She fucked and fucked his pumping cock until it was finally empty, the throbbing going away to leave a taut hardness she knew couldn’t last. Still, she kept up her fierce lunges, wanting one more hit of pleasure, and another, and another…
Conan stopped her, his big hands on her waist reminding her who was in charge—or at least, who she had to thank for this feeling of contentment settling over her body. “No more, girl, not now.”
Reluctantly, Sonja stopped her grinding ride upon his loins. Conan’s spent cock slid from her gulping sex and she came down off his hulking body to lay down beside him.
“Can we do it again?” she asked immediately, panting breathlessly in part from exertion and in part of the lust that was still going unquenched. She had come, and come hard, but her arousal remained with her, like hunger pangs keeping her awake no matter how tired she was. “I’m yours, remember? You’ve long desired to possess me. Have you had your fill of me so soon? Or is this supposed to be my fill of you?”
“Crom, woman, you say I am ruled by my passions. Show me now some of your civilized Hyrkanian patience. I’ll be ready soon enough without you begging for it.”
“And what about me?” Katurah asked, her lilting voice so unlike Sonja’s husky one, but equally hungry to be satisfied. “Are you ready for me, Cimmerian, or are two women too much for the slayer of legions to handle?”
Conan looked at her, standing upright once more, her senses returned to her, her naked body as appealing as ever. Lust tinged all his perceptions—as lovely as Sonja was, she had been defeated. This fresh challenger provoked him as she could not, though his manhood still was not prepared to be put to use. But there were other ways to break in a filly like this one.
“Up on the bed, against the headboard,” he told her, grinning in gratification to see the flush of arousal that went through her body at his terse orders. “And spread your legs. I’ll have a taste of you before you go back to serving as my sheath.”
Comments
Shendude
Man, this is fun!
