Thread: Man Witch [Goody + Prince]

It was a minor footnote in the bigger conversation they were having but it did get a brief pause from him. A male witch? How was that possible? Would there be more male witches now? How would that change things? It was a very bizarre notion and Uther was willing to consider it an anomaly, much like the female guardian trainee he'd just accepted, and nothing more. At least until proven otherwise. The witches and guardians were hundreds of years old, as old as the birth of humanity. Magic belonged to the fairer sex and nothing in Uther's understanding of it would change that. Unlike the fight with the spunky female trainee, Uther allowed Alluna to leave his sight as she playfully wandered around him, his focus attuned to her and watching her with all of his other senses. When she drew close again, warmth filled him, his nerves lit by her faint touches and the intimate sound of her voice. It was...different than it was before. She was different. Quieter, softer. Not by much, as her boldness showed through, her hands stroking deep, swirling circles into his back muscles, pulling a rumbling sigh from his chest in spite of himself. The words though...that was pure Alluna. For all his admiration and respect for women and witches, Uther didn't consider himself in the least bit some submissive pantywaist, sitting here in longing, waiting and begging for her barest attentions all these years. So, even as he'd become adept at reading between the lines, getting to the heart of her in the shit she refused to say, it irritated him that she didn't have enough maturity or grace to just tell him what she wanted. In the same vein though...his expectations had grown incredibly high for what meeting her again one day would be like. Because he'd fully expected her to find someone too. And swirling around and over everything was the pure light and joy he felt to see her again. He couldn't deny the way his heart sang for her, the pride that puffed in his chest to note the subdued, hesitant, almost...apologetic way she flirted now. Still bold, still in his personal space, but with a subtext of permission asked in everything. It was enough. Besides, if Uther wasn't a milquetoast usher boy, then he certainly wasn't some moody, pouty youth, demanding splints and bandages for his bent up dick. He knew what he wanted and he was man enough to admit that her side-stepping giving in to him completely, while making those concessions non-verbally, was exactly the woman he'd been waiting for and dreaming of. Besides...he'd make her audibly beg in a few minutes. The tension loosened from his shoulders as rolled them gently under her hands working at his back and he breezily commented, Well... Peytar offered a couple times to work out the kinks for me. But after the first time, he almost fucking killed me, I decided I could live with a couple of knots. The work never does get easier. And nobody touches me like you do. Peytar was one his trainers and longtime friends, someone Alluna might remember from being here before. A mountain of a man, grey and just as seasoned as Uther, his witch was one of the matrons, so, he wasn't going anywhere, happy to lend a hand to pass his knowledge on to the new trainees. The man was built like a mammoth bear, blocking out the sun when he stood next to people, and with a booming, savage laugh that was infectious by the cook fires but chilling on the battlefield. Turning smoothly, staying close to her, Uther gave Alluna a penetrating, unyielding look, silently searching her eyes for a moment. Even though he was just slightly shorter than her, his presence held a command that afforded him some measure of dominance, so, it felt natural to curl the edge of his finger under chin, his thumb perched there to hold her steady. I missed you, he murmured in a low, authoritative purr, his voice rasping with a tight desire. One more dance of his eyes, tracing over her full, plush lips, then to her eyes again, before he closed the distance between them with an earth-shattering kiss. Suddenly, he was closer than close, hand slithering over the silky fabric she wore, behind her to the small of her back, pulling her flush against his granite form, which swelled and rose up to meet her gladly. Down over her plush backside to her hip and thigh, he lifted her leg by the pit of her knee, draping it against his waist, the slit in her robe climbing obscenely higher. Lips grasping at her, demanding and possessive, his other hand plunged into her snow-white tresses, cradling the back of her neck as he deepened the kiss further. He was more than ready for her, grinding against her and pulling her in with rolling motions of his hips, letting her feel every line and cord of the muscle that currently ached for her. They'd had fun in the training grounds before, and anyone who came by would have sense enough to leave rather than face his wrath or the embarrassment of getting caught watching. But he'd give her the choice, since she was being so accommodating herself. Bed or dirt? he asked in a husky voice against her throat, only stopping his onslaught of passion to mutter the words, before licking and nipping at her in feverish need.