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The continuation of the story of Ian and Ayra as they seek refuge from the storm. Ricah puts her plans into motion.
Morning came far too quickly. The horse, impatient with the cramped quarters was pawing at the stone floor. It took a moment for Ian to realize that Ayra had cuddled back up against him in the night. Once again, the feel of her body against his, sent his mind on a tour of sexual fantasies. Her hand was again across his stomach, only lower; her fingers were resting lightly on the base of his cock.
Ian didn’t dare move; afraid even the slightest shift of position would wake her and bring this magical moment to a crashing end. His cock slowly expanded, pulsing and throbbing in response to her gentle touch. Her fingers moved slightly, caressing Ian’s flesh, or maybe he was just imagining her caress as his cock expanded. He could feel her body pressing into him, her breast squashed against his back, the nipples like red hot pokers burning into his flesh. Her swollen stomach pressed into the small of his back, and he swore he could feel the child within twisting and turning.
Ian’s cock pulsed and throbbed. He swore he could feel her fingers squeezing his shaft, sending his need skyrocketing. He was fully erect and burning with desire yet he didn’t dare move. He could feel her press harder against his back, and her fingers began moving slowly up and down the length of his cock. It was an agonizing pleasure that quickly had his whole body starting to shake.
Suddenly she stiffened and let out a soft gasp. Her hand froze, still holding his cock, but no longer moving. Ian didn’t dare move, he didn’t even want to breath, as he secretly hoped she would settle back to sleep and continue her ministrations of his cock. Silent seconds dragged by, her body still pressed against him, her hand holding his cock. His shaft throbbed and pulsed, ready to explode if she would just…
Her fingers slowly released Ian’s cock, and withdrew to rest on his hip. She whispered his name, her lips brushing against his skin. Ian didn’t move, concentrating on keeping his breathing steady, hoping beyond hope that she would believe him still asleep and continue.
The horse snorted, and the magic was gone. Ayra jumped, rolled away from him, and climbed from under the furs. Ian still remained motionless, watching through nearly closed eyes as she walked naked to the fire, her swollen breasts bouncing with each careful step. She added some pieces of wood, and a few coals, and urged the fire back to full life before grabbing her garments and slipping them back on.
“Ian, it’s time to get up.” she said, a mixture of worry and regret in her voice.
Ian groaned and rolled onto his back, his still hard cock managing to tent the furs. She looked over at him and blushed, turning her head away quickly.
“We better get going.” She said, tying the last straps on her robe.
Ian pushed the furs away and stood up, not thinking about how he must look with his cock sticking straight out. Or maybe he was hoping, hoping that she might change her mind if she saw. She blushed again and turned her back to him.
“I want to check this place out.” Ian said, trying not to let his disappointment show in his voice.
He grabbed his clothes and dressed quickly, the cold already sapping the hardness from his cock.
“Just be careful.” She said, as she opened the pack and pulled out some bread.
“I will, Ayra, I mean mother.” Ian said, smiling as he tied his robe closed.
She walked over and handed him a piece of bread, then sat down on the furs. Even dressed, the sight of her had Ian’s loins stirring again. His cock, no longer exposed to the cold, quickly returned to its fully erect state. He grabbed the reigns of the horse and pulled the door open, his need urging him to move quickly.
“Don’t be too long.” She said, her voice still tense.
“Are you alright, Ayra?” he said, as he urged the horse out the door.
“She is just getting restless, and please, call me mother, not Ayra.” She replied, holding a hand over her swollen stomach.
The storm had broken during the night, and the sun was shining, quickly melting the ice on the branches of the fallen tree. Ian looked around, surprised at how different things looked in daylight. The main building was actually in better shape than it had appeared the night before. More than half of it seemed intact. The outer wall was mostly there as well, as was what appeared to be a guard tower. He wondered if whoever had been here had left anything of use behind.
There were what appeared to be the remains of a stable behind the smith’s hut, and Ian led the horse there. It was empty, except for a wooden bin and some old straw. At least there were walls on three sides. The horse seemed content as he walked inside and nuzzled at the bin.
“I’ll get you some feed.” Ian said, patting the beast and heading back to the door. As he pushed it open and stepped inside, Ayra let out a screech. Hatay Escort
Ayra was squatting in the corner, her hand gripping the wall as she tried to stand up. Her dress was bundled up over her belly and there was a puddle on the floor, between her feet. She leaned heavily against the wall and she looked at him in horror.
“Ayra are, I mean, uhm, I’m sorry I…” Ian stammered, staring at her as she struggled to stand up.
“Oooh, ugh.” She grunted, her hand clawing at the wall as she slowly rose to her feet.
She finally stood upright, her robe still gathered above her swollen belly. Ian stood there, mesmerized by the sight, her belly seeming to writhe and twist. The blackness of her hair covered womanhood standing out in tantalizing contrast to her pale white skin.
“I, ugh, I don’t think, ooooh!” she said, her hand going down to cup her swollen belly.
“Oh the God’s!” Ian exclaimed, realization of what was happening finally sinking in.
He rushed over and grabbed her hand, wincing as she gripped my fingers in a deathlike vise.
“What, oh damn, what do I, what do we…” Ian said, panicking.
“We won’t be making it to your uncle’s.” she said, smiling at him.
It was a forced smile, filled with apprehension. Ian half carried, half drug her back to the furs, wincing every time she squeezed his hand. As he slowly lowered her onto the furs, Ian couldn’t help but stare at her womanhood, his cock already rigid and pulsing, seemed to throb and grow even more.
“I think we might have to make do here for a while.” Ayra said, her face taught with worry.
“The main building looks better in the daylight. I could go and see if there’s a better place than this.” Ian said, slowly pulling his hand from her grasp.
She just nodded, her hand moving down to cup her swollen belly, its position serving to draw his gaze back to her pussy.
Ian grabbed the furs and pulled them over her, pausing long enough to gently caress her cheek before he stood and headed for the door.
“I won’t be long.” Ian said, trying to reassure her, at the same time knowing he needed to get out of there.
The inside of the building was a surprise. There was little in the way of debris, a bit of leaves, and several nests from some sort of small bird was all. Most of the furnishings were still there, massive tables and chairs, cupboards and couches. A door near the collapsed section led to a small bedchamber, complete with its own fireplace. The bed was still there, covered in heavy quilts that seemed intact, if a bit musty. A huge wardrobe filled one wall. Opening it Ian found several dresses and women’s undergarments the like of which he had never seen. Strange tube shaped things laced together with pockets in them shaped like Ayra’s tits. They felt soft in his hands, and the sight of them pulled up memories from last night.
Ian’s cock, barely starting to soften, sprang back to life, straining against his pants. He knew he should be searching, but …
His fingers undid the tie of his pants and they fell to the floor. Grabbing his cock, Ian rubbed it across the soft fabric, wondering what it would feel like to rub it across Ayra’s tits, or even, even slide it between her legs. He began stroking himself, closing his eyes and imagining his cock sliding between her tits, the head peeking out, glistening with fluids.
Ian leaned against the wardrobe, imagining her watching his cock slide between her tits, her lips parted as he moved faster, the caress of her flesh more than he could stand. Ian’s need was taking control, and he stroked himself fervently, his hand a blur of desperate need. His balls tightened, his legs contracting as he exploded, jet after jet of cum splattering on the soft fabric.
Ian stood there for several moments before his legs finally stopped trembling. He slowly managed to pull his pants back up and tie them. He placed the strange piece of clothing back in the wardrobe, and examined the rest of the room. There was a chest at the foot of the bed that looked perfect for a cradle for his new sister when she arrived, which he realized would be soon.
Ian spent some time searching the ruins. There was plenty of coal in a store room behind what appeared to be a huge kitchen. A trap door in the floor opened into a cellar filled with sacks and crates. He doubted much of what was there would be of any use, but some grains might still be good. It was some time before it registered just how long he had been gone. He rushed from the building, his mind whirling, admonishing himself for wasting so much time.
Ricah strode up to the door to her husband’s chamber. She waved the guards aside and stepped inside. Brayden was sprawled out on the bed, a cup in one hand and a large chunk of bread in the other. He glanced at her, then emptied his cup and held it out to the young woman standing beside the bed.
The woman blushed as she filled the cup, her blouse hanging open, making Hatay Escort Bayan it obvious what had been going on. Ricah gave her a scowl, and the woman nearly dropped the pitcher of wine, as she quickly filled Brayden’s cup before rushing from the room.
“What is it?” Brayden said, bread crumbs dropping from his mouth onto the wine stained quilt covering his lap.
“I just thought you should know, your nephew and his mother are enroute. They should be arriving in a week or so.” Ricah said, pleased to see the color drain from her husband’s face at the mention of his brother’s wife and son.
“What the fuck do they want?” He growled, before taking a long drink of wine, more than half of it pouring through his beard and onto the quilt.
Ricah did her best to hide her disgust as she explained about the events of the past year. She wasn’t surprised to see the pleased look on his face as she retold the tale of his brother’s death.
“It’s pretty evident they are coming here to seek our aide. I am sure they are counting on the family blood ties to ensure at least some position of safety.” She said, trying to ignore the foul odor emanating from her husband.
“Lay claim to my birthright, more like.” He growled, “That Ayra was always a conniving little cunt.”
“Like how she connived her way into your bed on the night before her wedding.” Ricah thought, though she held her tongue.
Ricah had plans, and she needed to lead Brayden in the direction of those plans. She knew she could lead him in the direction she wanted, but not if she got his temper going. It had to seem like his idea, or he would never go for it.
“I’m sure time has softened the woman. And her son, well, he must be near adulthood by now.” Ricah said, grimacing as she stepped up to the bed and sat down.
She was relieved when Brayden shifted away from her. It had been years since she had allowed the disgusting brute to touch her, and the thought that she might have to again had nearly made her ill. She forced herself to smile as she placed a hand on his quilt covered leg.
“Besides, if she’s still as conniving, we could always use another scullery maid, and the boy could be sent to serve on patrol.” She said, watching his face as he smiled, wine colored spit oozing from the corners of his mouth.
“Fine! Just don’t think I’m going to let her worm her way back into my good graces.” Brayden said, emptying his cup so quickly he started coughing, spraying Ricah’s dress with wine, bits of bread, and spit.
It was all she could do not to explode, as she stood up and grabbed the corner of the quilt to wipe what she could of the mess from her dress.
“Here, let me refill your cup.” She said, picking up his cup and walking to the table.
With her back to him, Ricah reached between her breasts, pulling out the small black vial and emptying several drops of the thick liquid into the cup before filling it with wine. She quickly tucked the vial back between her breasts, before turning and walking back to the bed.
“Gerdis is leaving today. Did you wish to see him off?” Ricah said, knowing her husband’s dislike for the boy and how he would react.
“Fuck that little pansy!” he growled, grabbing the cup from her and taking a huge drink. “Then again, you probably have, not that I care.”
Ignoring his comment, Ricah just stood there smiling, watching as her husband drank the cup of wine. As he finished he held the cup out to her, grimacing.
“I think that pitcher has gone bad, have the maid bring me a fresh one.” He said, as if in dismissal.
Ricah nodded, as she turned and walked from the room, the smile coming to her face now was not a forced one. She had seen the momentary look of glee as she mentioned the boy. The bastard had taken the bait. He would do her bidding without even knowing it. Now all she had to do was pry the young man from under his mother’s thumb. That was a task she looked forward to. Just the thought of it had her thighs tightening.
As Ricah started down the hallway she noticed the serving woman slip back into her husband’s room.
“Good!” she thought, “Let the wench pry her charms on the dying bastard. At least it will keep him occupied.”
As she walked down the hall, Ricah began to wonder if perhaps she had acted too quickly. Gerdis was an imbecile, she admitted, but he had served her well, quickly learning her likes and needs, and adapting to them quickly. He also knew what would happen if he ever spoke a word to anyone. Although she was confident she could manipulate Ian into the same sort, she wasn’t relishing the time it might take, or the frustration she would suffer until his arrival.
For the briefest moment she considered changing her plans and keeping Gerdis around, at least for a few more days. She shook her head, knowing that plan had already been put into action and changing it now was not an option. She was about to head to her room to change when she saw her seastress walking Escort Hatay down the hallway carrying several bolts of fabric.
“Jouseen, just the person I needed.” She called out, her voice causing the woman to stop in her tracks.
“I have need of some new dresses. As you see, my husband’s illness has gotten the better of me as well as him.” She continued, as she tried to remember the name of the waif Jouseen had taken in.
The girl was homely to say the least, with a body more fitting to a boy than a woman. She would be a perfect addition to the group of young women Ricah had selected to keep her husband occupied.
“I was also wondering about your daughter, uhm, …”
“Grisha, milady.” Jouseen replied, her chest puffing up with pride.
The look on the woman’s face made Ricah smirk.
“Oh yes, Grisha. Tell me, how has she been. I haven’t seen her around lately?”
“She has just completed her training at the temple. The priestess says her skill as a healer is exceptional.”
“Perfect!” Ricah said, a plan already forming in her head.
“Lord Brayden’s illness is progressing far quicker than the healers said it would, and I fear I no longer trust them. I would be grateful if you would see to it that your daughter start attending the lord. I am sure he will respond far better to a pretty young woman.”
In truth, Ricah had no interest in her husband’s health other than seeing it continue to deteriorate. She did, however, need to steer him toward making the right decision regarding Ian, and that was best done by keeping him entertained. Grisha was a perfect candidate for that.
“I, uhm, well, she was planning on…” Jouseen satrted, her face showing the fear she felt.
“Perfect, though I must warn you, Lord Brayden is a bit of a, how shall we out it, he gets carried away sometimes, so precautions should be taken.”
The fear turned to hooror as the seamstress realized just what Ricah was referring to. The rumours abounded in the house about Brayden and his appetite for young women.
“And don’t worry. You and she will be well compensated for your efforts.” Ricah continued as if she had just asked the woman to make an extra dress.
Feeling her point had been made, Ricah turned and walked away, a sudden lightness in her walk as she felt lifted by the impending misery of her seamstress and the woman’s daughter.
When Ian arrived back at the smith’s hut, he was surprised to see Ayra kneeling by the fire, a pot steaming over the flames.
“I found a sack of grain hidden in the back.” She said, dipping a spoon into the pot and stirring. “It isn’t much, but I don’t think I could stomach another piece of salted meat.”
“I’m sorry I took so long. But I think I found a place we can use, at least for a while.” Ian said, walking over and kneeling beside her.
“It is well within the building so we should be able to keep warm easily. The walk is easy so you should be able to make it with little trouble.”
“I am sorry for this, Ian.” She said, her hand reaching up to cup his cheek. “You are grown now, and should be finding a woman of your own, not tending to your mother like this.”
“We are a family, Ayra.” Ian replied, grasping her hand and pulling it to his chest. “I am the head of our family now, and I will see to your care and safety. There will be time later for me to find a wife, if the Gods see fit. Until then, I will be your caretaker, and your child, my sister; she will be like my own child.”
“We should eat, then you can take me to this place you have found.” She said, looking at him strangely before grabbing a bowl and scooping some of the paste into it.
It is surprising how good boiled grain can taste after nothing but salted meat and stale bread for a week. Ian wolfed down his bowl, and smiled as Ayra refilled it. Once he had eaten his fill, Ayra took the bowls and wiped them clean.
“Alright, let’s go see this place.” She said, wiping her hands on her robe.
The trek into the keep was easy, but Ian hadn’t considered how difficult she found climbing. More than once he had to practically carry her as they wound through the debris. Once they were inside the portion of the keep that hadn’t collapsed, things got easier, and he could tell from the expression on her face that she was pleased.
“There’s a kitchen down that way.” Ian said, gesturing toward a hallway. “It has a cellar and there are several crates and sacks down there. I am sure some of it is still good.”
Ian continued across the main chamber and opened the door to the bedroom. Her gasp of delight was like music to his ears as she stepped inside. She rushed over to the bed, her fingers caressing the quilts for several moments before she turned to him and smiled.
“This will do nicely.” She said, rushing over and examining the fireplace. “And the horse, do you think you can get him through into the main chamber?”
Ian nodded as she walked over and picked up one of the garments he had examined earlier. She held one up against herself and laughed.
“I could dress for a royal ball with these.” She said, spinning around.
“And the chest by the bed will be great for my sister when she comes.” Ian said, walking over and opening the lid.
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