When you live life like I did, you find yourself doing things you didn't want to do, having sex with who you never wanted to fuck. It was the life, it was survival, and it was the mentality that led me to have sex with the old witch.
Oh how wrong I was.
Clasping her tight round the waist as she hover a bit above me in cowgirl position I was slamming away into her, wild and vigorously. Gbam! Gbam! Gbam! of flesh persistently smashing against each other with utmost speed reverberated the whole chambers as she held her breath in agony of intense pleasure and then yet another flood of cum poured into her, endlessly.
Her body sank heavily against mine breathing hard and sweating, the exhaustion evident in every limb. Our long evening had drenched the bed in a clammy embrace, leaving its sheets glistening like morning dew on a summer meadow. The faint scent of salt and cum lingered in the air. With a languid gesture, her hand extended towards the pouch resting beside us. Fingers trembled as they delved into its depths, fumbling to find what she sought. Her skin, bare against mine, revealed vulnerability and desperation that words could not convey. Time dragged on, the weight of weariness evident in the slow movements. Finally, triumph glimmered in her eyes as she withdrew a small vial, clutching it with a mixture of relief and determination. Her tired body stirred, and she slowly sat up, cradling the vial in her hands. Without hesitation, she removed the cork, the familiar faint scent of the potion wafting in the air. With a desperate urgency, she emptied the vial's contents into her mouth, her lips forming a soft seal around the opening. The liquid filled her mouth, mingling with her saliva, and she turned towards me with a mixture of determination and vulnerability in her eyes. As she leaned closer, our mouths met, and the taste of the potion and her essence fused between us.
As our lips remained locked in that potent exchange, a surge of sensations overwhelmed me. The potion, like a drug, coursed through my veins, setting off a euphoric wave that spread throughout my body. It was as if dormant energy had been ignited, awakening every fiber of my being. The world around us blurred, fading into insignificance as the intensity of the moment consumed us. With each passing second, the energy grew, electrifying my senses, and I could feel my dick coming alive once again.
Grabbing it she directed it exactly to the proper entrance, she sank her body slowly down upon it until fully engulfed, hair crushed hair, then as slowly raising again, she drew off until all but the nut was uncovered, to again sink down. In this position we could both see the whole process. At length, becoming too excited, she sank on my bosom, then one arm and hand pressed her splendid ass down on my throbbing prick after every elevation of her magnificent backside while my other hand, doubling round behind her, introduced the middle finger up her charming bottomhole, and worked in and out in unison with both our heaving movements, until stopped by the grand crisis, then quicker and quicker, until we both were in an excess of furious lust, which knew no bounds. We rushed on to the final crisis with mutual cries of agonised delight; indeed, the witch squealed so loud that I afterwards thought she must have been heard outside the castle. Her pleasure was of the wildest, and when I poured a flood of sperm up her entrails at the very moment she herself was spending, she fell forward and fainted away, we both panting hard.
She lay still panting with all the delight of satisfied desire.
"I think we are out of potions" she said, her gasping breaths echoed in the air, mirroring my own labored panting. Our legs quivered with exhaustion. I think we went overboard.
I nudged her gently off my body, drawing my cock out with somewhat of a good pull, for it was most tightly held, and came out with a flop, Slowly, I propped myself up on the edge of the bed, my muscles still tense from the exertion.
[Grimoire]
[Ability to cast the spells of a grimoire]
I had gotten it after our first bout but unlike [Water arts], I didn't know know how to use it.
Helene silently approached from behind, enveloping me in a warm, comforting embrace. Her head nestled gently on my shoulders, and her hands tenderly moved up and down my body.
"This was a most pleasant evening, your majesty" she said, her voice gleeful.
It was. Her radiant expression mirrored the delight she felt, adding a touch of genuine warmth to the atmosphere. I enjoyed it too but it was never intended for pleasure, and I didn't plan on making the same mistake.
"Do you have a Grimoire?" I asked.
"Of course" she replied, her voice tinged with a light chuckle, as if it were a humorous question. "What master witch doesn't have a Grimoire?"
"Do you have it with you?" I turned to face her.
"Yes, why?" Her response carried a hint of suspicion.
"Let me see it"
She gave me a weird look, then softly whispered < Κενό βιβλίον >. The room's temperature seemed to shift, growing a bit chilly as an eerie dark purple swirl of smoke materialized above her hand, gradually expanding. Suddenly a tome formed from the smokes which hovered for a moment before dropping with a solid thump into her grasp.
She passed it to me, and I collected, fascinated. It was pretty weightless, compared to how heavy it looked. Its ethereal touch sent tingles through my fingertips, as if a gentle current of magic coursed through its pages.
As I unclasped the Grimoire, a hushed anticipation filled the air, accompanied by the soft rustle of ancient pages coming to life. I could feel her curious gaze on me.
With a gentle creak, I opened the mystical book, and a faint glow emanated from within.
"It is useless" I heard her say, "only a witch can read the words of a grimoire"
'The sacred art of magic' was what the introductory part said. I could read it just fine. Flipped to the next page.
Levitation.
Spell : By the powers bestowed on me by the sacred Grimoire I command thee to lift up.
Action word : Levitate!
Easy concept to grasp but not very practical. Can take up to a minute to set up just one spell.
"...you are a witch" she said and I could feel the shock behind those words.
I had completely forgotten she was even there as I was flipping through the pages of the Grimoire. The spells I found were valuable but required lengthy incantations, making them impractical for quick use in battle. The sheer number of words to memorize overwhelmed me, and the fear of forgetting them in a desperate moment troubled my mind.
"But I was at your awakening ceremony"
"I am a late bloomer," I jest, slamming the tome shut. I handed it back to her.
"You can't be awakened after your 152 moon"
Fucker. I could see the suspicions and curiosity in her eyes as she held me. I should have just kept my mouth shut.
"How do I get mine?" I attempted to change the subject, diverting the attention to what actually mattered.
The tome reverted back to dark purple and quickly dissipating.
"You can only inherit one" she said, getting up from the bed. She walked over to where her clothes lay on the floor as I watched her graceful sway. "Witches come from a shared bloodline, and there can only be one witch per generation in a family so the grimoire are passed from one generation to another and it is bound to one owner till death. Unfortunately..." she paused, now in her undergarments, her gown in her hand. "The Dragonharts don't have the witch bloodline"
Fuck. I was damn careless. She knows something, I can see it in her eyes. Should I kill her? She's obviously not dumb. Maybe she's waiting for confirmation of her suspicions.
"Is that the only way?" I asked, trying not to seem bothered.
Her eyes locked with mine for a moment, as if searching for something in my expression, then she walked over to the mirror and continued dressing.
"You can also inherit from your master if he is the last of his kin" she continued, "but the Grimoire would have to acknowledge you. Or so we've heard"
As I observed her dressing up, a surprising sense of hope washed over me. There was a glimmer of possibility, and I could feel it in my core.
"If there's nothing else, your majesty," she said, "I will be taking my leave."
I nodded and she bowed and left. The moment the door closed. I stared at it for a moment, recalling the words I had crammed.
<Επικαλούμαι εσένα ω πνεύματα της φωτιάς.>
<Ανάψε! >
An eerie coldness settled upon the room, sending shivers down my spine like a spectral presence lingering in the air.
[Grimoire activated]