Thread: Man Witch [Goody + Prince]

For all their teasing back and forth, Quinn respected Armie a huge ton. Especially when it came to combat skills and strength. She was a fricking beast, built like a little bull, rock solid, and fierce as a wild cat. An actual fight between the two of them came out 5050 odds for him besting her and it was a safe bet, if she ever needed to drag him out of anywhere, she could do so, with little effort. Oleandra's guardian, Lindor, had passed several years back but from what Quinn remembered, he'd been a hard, salt of the earth kind of guy, even gray and aged, he'd been muscular and thick, built like a Clydesdale. It was the only reason he and Armie knew about witches having guardians and if anyone was going to be watching his back, Quinn was proud for it to be her. You're gonna do fucking great, Quinn smirked, then mockingly frowned at her. I mean, you bloody well better! I didn't bring you here to get your ass kicked by a bunch of mediocre losers. If by the time this is all over, I get saddled with some dude who bested you on day one, I'll never forgive you. If anybody makes you cry, just tell me and I'll come down there to give them hell. I'll show them, between the two of us, who's got the bigger pair. Putting another cig between his lips and searching for a match, he gave her a cocky eyebrow raise, and one last parting comment as they started to split at the end of the stone steps down from the Council building. Go get 'em, Armie. He had all the confidence in the world that before the end of the hour, she'd have them all eating out of the palm of her hand. As soon as he turned from her, walking along the westbound street towards the dorms, Quinn put Deidarmia out of mind, setting his sights on his own plans for the evening. The first order of business was to find his room in the dormitories and get cleaned up. The next, was to find something or someplace to scrounge up some drink or other substances. And finally, the last, was to hunt down a pretty and willing fellow student and give her a mind-blowing experience that she'd be unable to keep from spilling to all of her friends about. As tired as the meetings with the matrons had made him, burying himself in supple flesh and flowing alcohol was his unwinding, his recharge. Nothing like a good pussy to bring a man to life again. Within an hour and a half, he'd reached the end of his to-do list. Found his barebones room with chalk white walls and simple bed, with a private privy? Check. Showered and dressed in new shirt at least? Check. Sought out a communal lounge study with a bar and a strange yet potent group of fermented blossom-based tinctures and spirits? Check. A lonely gal curled in one of the chairs with a cinder block of a tome open in her lap, looking like she could use a fricking break? Oh, check! It had been easy enough to get the olive skinned Gragha Desert beauty to go back to his room with him. In fact, it'd been a lot easier than he'd anticipated. His interruption of her studies was unwelcome at first, her stress making her resistant to his charms. Apparently, she had a quarterly test, what the witches called Ordeals, in the morning and she'd yet to memorize much from her least favorite element, fire. She'd been putting it off because she was much stronger with water and herbs but her fellows who'd already gone through theirs said fire was definitely on there. Even if she had no gift for fire she still needed to know about it before she'd pass the Ordeal. Oh, fire? I know all about that, Quinn snorted arrogantly, the lie coming easily with a roll of his eyes. She gave him a level look, immediately disbelieving. What could you possibly know about fire magic? Well, considering I'm the first ever male witch, her eyes widened with sudden interest and awe. And fire and earth are my base elements, I have no doubt I know a lot more about it than you do. You're a male witch? she asked incredulously, gaping at him. A slow, confident grin inched its way onto Quinn's face. It hadn't taken much to convince Ariel to go back to his room for a private demonstration and once he got her there, setting the studies aspect aside was merely a matter of flirting with the now very captivated and curious witch. A few drinks later, from a swiped bottle of feather blossom spirits, and Quinn had her de-pantied, skirt bunched up at her hips as she laid spread on his single bed, her one calf draped against his back and the toes of her other foot stroking at his hip. Just 9 years younger than him at 19, she wasn't a virgin, which was a plus, although he didn't mind them, to be fair. But she'd only ever been with bare minimum bottom feeders. After a few licks to his knob and she revealed she'd never been kissed down below, Quinn felt a dutiful compassion towards her, and got her ass-naked on the bed, free of panties and stockings, his face buried between her thighs. As per her olive-tinged skin and copper brown hair, Ariel was a gorgeous maroon tan down below, a clean, light brush of hair cloaking her. Puffy lips filled with beautiful purple hue, growing darker as she swelled with excitement, tan inner folds sticking out with orchid worthy waves, her pussy was like the vibrant plumage of one of the exotic birds Quinn and Armie had seen in the Valheru countryside as they approached the city. Upon first viewing, Ariel demurely tried to tuck her legs together, blushing in embarrassment and shame, especially with his face so close to the colorful little bloom. Quinn wasn't much for talking out their feelings but still, he disposed her of such meek and guilty self-image notions as he groaned breathily in hunger over the sight of her, like a man possessed of uncontrollable urges, as he dove right in, pressing eager lips against her flesh, for an intimate, grinding kiss. She still put up a fight, moaning quietly past her clutched fingers, her thighs quivering and clenching at his ears, trying to close them against his onslaught of desire. But pretty soon, he had her moaning brokenly in wild abandon, begging and growling wordlessly as her fingers wrenched at his hair, her legs spreading wide and using her feet on his back and knee to gain leverage and grind against his tantalizing, pleasurable lips. He used all the tricks, listening to her to find what worked best, stroking deep with his tongue, suckling at the flowered petals of her inner lips, and rubbing his smooshy, swollen lips against her clit with savage determination. Her foot on his upper back slipped on his sweaty skin as she reached a crescendo, her back arching and foot curling into the air over his shoulder as she raggedly gasped and shivered in orgasm. Pleased with himself and delighted for how blasted she looked afterward, Quinn gave her a minute or two before he began to leave passionate bite marks on her inner thighs, in between lapping languidly at her sensitive, pulsing pussy. She whimpered softly, struggling to get her leg off of his shoulder, but Quinn held her firm by the hips as he began again. This time, she devolved into wordless, bestial purity, grunting and groaning at the white walls as he touched and stroked every hidden place that could possibly be awakened by his slithering tongue and hungered lips. And with one hand holding her still, his other found its way between her pert butt cheeks, swirling a titillating thumb at her untouched rosebud, wriggling in just to the thumbnail when he felt her getting close again. It physically hurt him the way she ripped at his hair with her hands but inside, he was pumped with self-satisfaction, especially with the inhuman, unhinged sound she made. Finally, lifting his face from between her legs, she was putty in his hands, mellow and willing as he crawled above her in the bed, driving into her, just as rough and bestial as she'd been, bringing her over the edge a third and final time before he himself reached bliss. No doubt, as he finished the bottle of feather, letting her curl against him in satiated slumber, he'd done what he set out to. No fricking way was she gonna be able to keep this a secret from her friends the next day. A drunk, crooked grin slithered across his features as he tossed the empty bottle to go rolling across the tattered rug, before he snuggled down into the sex and sweat scented bed, pulling Ariel's warm, plush body against him for sleep in the cool night. As she stood among them, some of the new trainees for the guardians gave the woman questioning looks. What was she doing here? Had one of the witches gotten lost? ...she didn't look like a witch. No matter. Kellar was more than happy to make the most of the opportunity to get in good with one of the powerful ladies. Who knew? She could become his match by the end of their training. Even if she was prone to confusion on where to be and all. Not like women had a good sense of direction anyway. Brushing a hand through golden locks, straight and lanky on his neck and cheeks, Kellar gave the short woman with the wild mop of hair his most dashing smirk as he approached her in their small little group. Hey there, little lady, he drawled pleasantly in a heavy Naroah accent. You seem a little lost, yeah? Tanned skin and blue eyes, he was known for his good looks back home, and no stranger to the sword, although he excelled at hand to hand. Wide of shoulder and thick in the waist, with muscles peeking through the loose collar of his cotton shirt, Kellar was a grand specimen of masculinity and with enough self-possession to know it too. Reaching forward to tuck a stray, wild wisp of dark hair around her cheek, he asked, What's your special skill? Have you found it yet? I don't think she's a witch, one of the others said with a shake of his head, giving her a suspicious sideways look. She doesn't look like a witch, anyway. Not any of the ones I've seen. Oh? Kellar asked, glancing over his shoulder at the other trainee before turning back to the woman with an intrigued quirk of his lips and eyebrows. What is she then? A knowing glint flashed in his eyes as his gaze trailed over her pant-clad legs, thinking he had it figured out. Maybe the trainers sent us a little kitty for motivation? Or possibly a pre-training workout...give us a taste of what we'll get when we're bonded, yeah? Is that it? What are you selling, sweetheart?