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A Pleasurable Respite

 
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GLENDHRAN ORÍSAR SHIFTED in the saddle, trying to relieve his smarting backside. The three Voláris certainly hadn't held back last night. A grin spread on his face as he remembered the fight. There'd been seven of the tall, reptilian humanoids to begin with, but he'd shown them what an Asaazii warrior was capable of. Probably could have taken them all if that barmaid hadn't come out and screeched, distracting him long enough for one of their armored fists to connect solidly with the side of his head.

The blow had stunned him for only a moment. But that moment had been long enough for the remaining three to finally overpower him. And have their way with him. Grinning wider with the memory, he shifted his butt again. Overall, he decided, it had been a great night.

A jolt of pain shot to the side of his head when his horse took a hard step. Gingerly, he traced a finger over his temple. Yes, that one would leave a mark. He could already feel the welt beginning to form. At least his face remained unmarred, he thought, rather proudly. Which was more than could be said for two of the Voláris, whose noses he'd rearranged.

Glendhran had never been one to back down from a good fight. Indeed, he'd spent a good portion of his life planting his fists in faces or taking them in his own. As much, he wasn't ashamed to admit, for the fun of it as during battle. It's not like he ever went looking for trouble. It simply had a way of finding him. And since he had as much of a problem with ill manners as authority, it found him more often than not.

Still, surely no one could blame him for instilling better manners in a man than the ones he'd possessed before he'd encountered him, Glendhran reasoned. It wasn't his fault that some of them proved themselves in need of a reminder of polite behavior, after all. And if he enjoyed the ensuing scuffle . . . Well, he was a warrior. It would be counterproductive to dislike fighting, he decided.

Leaning forward did nothing to relieve his tender hind end either. Quite the opposite, for this position provided stimulation to his groin, which was already stirring with arousal caused by the tenderness and, in turn, brought more focus to the aching area. So he settled back once more, determined to just ignore it for now.

He'd have to find a way to time things better, now that he spent a lot of his time on the road. Then again, things weren't really all that different than before, if one didn't count all the riding.

He'd been stationed in the kingdom of Vakaarii for the better part of four years before his return to Harthor six months ago. Located near the lands of the Ammaris war lords, the kingdom had been one of the first nations to unify under Asaazii rule, and ask for Asaazii help in protecting their borders. True to the great Asaazii kings of old, Colton had responded immediately, and sent over two thousand warriors to help permanently guard the borders, leaving the term of rotation?anywhere from six months to permanent?up to his men.

There were many of those camps in various nations now, the Asaazii once again establishing their reputation for being the protectors of peace. Glendhran's new assignment as emissary between the various camps and Harthor?gathering information and updates, assessing threats, reporting news, helping with arrangement of troops, among others?suited him well. It was the best of both worlds. He was based at Harthor, yet was still able to travel the lands and stay in touch with the various camps.

He had truly enjoyed his years in Vakaarii. The wild, untamed lands full of ragged mountains and massive waterfalls, the regal race, the fascinating architecture of cities built into cliffs and waterfalls. But, more and more, he'd found himself yearning to be home. And, more so, for a woman to come home to.

He was young still, at twenty-seven, but Glendhran knew it wasn't all that easy for an Asaazii warrior to find love. So he figured it wouldn't hurt to get an early start. Not many women cared to live with a warrior, with the burdens and demands that such a lifestyle imposed. Not when they had the option to choose a husband with normal work, one they wouldn't have to worry about going off to war.

And while most Asaazii warriors deeply cared to have a wife one day, most of them also accepted that it might not happen. For Glendhran, going through life alone was simply not an option. He'd always been a hopeless romantic. True, he loved being a warrior. But he'd known from a young age that a wife, a warm home, and hopefully children would be his future. While he sincerely wished he'd find a way to be both a warrior and have a family, he'd lean toward the home and find another line of work, if that's what it took.

Grimacing, he tried to imagine himself as a farmer or baker or such. He could only hope there'd be enough ill-mannered men around to keep him at least a little entertained. He'd drive his wife to madness otherwise. But he'd worry about that kurtköy eve gelen escort when the time came. For now, he was happy with the way things were going.

A pair of little red birds darted out of the trees, danced through the air along the river's edge, cheerfully chirping and singing. Smiling, Glendhran turned his head to watch them. Then shifted his backside once more, painfully aware of the throbbing not only there, but in his groin?which had hardened uncomfortably inside his breeches no matter how hard he'd tried to ignore it.

Chuckling, he shook his head. Was it any wonder trouble was forever finding him? He'd have to see to that sooner or later. But for now, he was determined to make it at least a little further down the road.

When a wagon rolled by, heading in the opposite direction, Glendhran waved a hand in greeting, then let his eyes roam over the countryside. Took in the gently rolling plains of grass, the ancient forests, so lush and green. In the distance, he could just make out a herd of the brown, long-haired Sítai sheep?a new breed the Asaazii had established about a decade ago.

Sighing contently, he leaned forward to pat his horse on the neck. It was good to be home, even nicer to be able to travel through these lands and through others. Good to see that the battles they'd fought served to protect the peace, the lands, the people, so that they'd be able to live a good life. And not only in this nation, but many others as well. The warrior in him took pride in it, in the proof that what they fought for benefitted so many others.

He'd seen his share of battles. Knew that even now the hard-won peace was threatened constantly. Warring tribes and nations were forever invading other lands, pillaging, plundering, taking slaves. And leaving a path of destruction in their wake.

He'd been aware of it before, of course, but had tackled only one enemy at a time?in the frontlines of whatever battle he'd been sent to fight at the time. Now, in his new line of work, he'd gained a whole new understanding of just how many fronts they actually faced, how many conflicts had to be solved to ensure a safe and peaceful life for others.

Then there was the political aspect he'd never worried about. Who would have thought some nations might not want Asaazii help? Or that one might get mad if you helped another? The localities could be just as complicated, he'd learned. With one nation being in the way of another you're trying to reach. Not to mention the logistics of supplying troops and large armies.

Yes, he enjoyed his new role much more than he'd expected. Better yet, it would give him the opportunity to keep his eye out for a pretty woman, since he was somewhat settled now.

It would have to be a larger woman, he mused. Tall, with strong bones and a good amount of meat on them. One he wouldn't constantly have to worry about handling like fine porcelain. Why, he was likely to snap one of those little ones in half when all he meant to do was give a hug.

His own body was hard as a rock from years of brutal training. And, when it came to women, he was scared of his own strength. More often than not, he felt massive, brutish, and clumsy around them, with their gentle touches, their soft and delicate bodies.

No, he needed a bigger woman, for sure. One with full, lush curves, soft, but well-cushioned, for he so enjoyed having something to grab on to. Short of his fear of breaking them, he also never found himself overly attracted to one of those delicate sticks. Not like he didn't find them beautiful. Each and every woman had a beauty of her own, if one only bothered to discover it. But he preferred the rounder, softer type, to even out the hardness of his own body.

If he couldn't find one who'd have him, perhaps he'd look to the female Asaazii warriors. Although their bodies were just as hard and strong as his own, they somehow still retained that irresistible feminine grace and allure. And they were of proper size. He certainly wouldn't have to worry about snapping them.

But he hoped for a woman who was tall, thick, and soft. So it wouldn't hurt to put in a good word with the gods, just in case they had someone in mind.

The images that came to mind as he imagined a suitable woman did nothing to relieve the throbbing in his groin. Sighing, he decided he'd better see to it before it landed him in any more trouble. Turning off the road, he moved his horse into the forest. There was a clearing a little way in that he'd discovered on his last trip through here. He'd stop for a bit, and relieve himself of this persistent throbbing. His horse could use a rest anyway.

As he followed the small deer trail that wound its way through the trees, he imagined what it would be like to have someone to share his life with. Someone to come home to, someone to spoil, to hold, to cherish. Then, smiling, decided it would be wonderful. Although kurtköy genç escort he'd wager it would probably take years to find her.

But Glendhran was a patient man. Well, in that regard, at least. For now, he'd just enjoy his new role and the responsibilities that came with it.

And keep his eyes open.

*********

WHEN GLENDHRAN REACHED the clearing he dismounted, and led his horse to the water. The pool was large and clear, fed by a tall waterfall, and surrounded by a spacious area of grass on three sides. Further back, brambles and berry bushes grew before the forest line.

He waited for his horse to finish drinking, then took off the saddle, and set it aside. Grabbing a cloth out of the saddlebag, he wetted it in the water, and wiped the animal down.

"Feels good, doesn't it," he said, scratching the gelding's withers when he let out a contented snort. "Gods know you deserve it, carrying the likes of me around all the time."

Smiling, he slid off the bridle, leaving the horse to graze, knowing he wouldn't venture far. The Asaazii war horses were too well-trained and known to never leave their masters unless commanded to do so.

With his horse attended to, Glendhran turned back to the water, thinking it wouldn't hurt to spend some time cooling off himself. That decided, he undressed, leaving his clothes slung over the saddle.

The water felt wonderful, cooling and soothing the bruises and scrapes he'd incurred last night. For a while, he simply let himself float, enjoyed the peaceful setting. But the throbbing in his groin didn't let him rest for long. Chuckling, he rolled onto his belly, and swam the few yards to the waterfall.

Rising underneath it, he let the water pour over his head. Then leaned forward, groaned in pleasure as he felt the pressure of the water massage the tenseness from his shoulders. Nature, he thought, had the most wonderful ways of relaxing a man.

The main force of the water ran over his back, but small rivulets trailed over his broad chest, down the hard plains of his stomach, over the throbbing flesh between his legs. It felt like fingertips gently caressing, and his loins tightened further with the thought.

Breathing deeper, he brought up a hand to tease his hardening nipples while his other hand followed the path of the water, fingers skimming down his belly, then tracing his sensitive flank. A deep moan rumbled from his throat when he wrapped his fist firmly around the pulsing shaft, felt the heat against his palm despite the coolness of the water.

Closing his eyes, he gave his cock a few hard squeezes, enjoyed his body's immediate reaction. The powerful muscles of his ass and lower abs contracted, suddenly and forcefully, clenching sharply, then releasing just long enough to clench again, forcing more blood to rush to his cock. He could feel the pulse of it under his palm, felt the smooth skin stretch tighter as he hardened even more.

When the muscles of his ass contracted, the dull, throbbing soreness radiating from the little star nestled between them reminded him of last night. Yes, the Voláris had thoroughly ravaged him. Smiling with the memory, Glendhran flexed his cheeks on purpose a few times. The added stimulation to his swollen, sensitive rosebud caused his cock to quiver and jerk in his hand.

Tipping his head back, he released his cock, enjoyed the way the water flowed over his chest to caress the hard, pulsing flesh between his thighs.

The Voláris had learned an important lesson last night. They thought they would humiliate him, even break him with the act. But an Asaazii warrior was much tougher than that. He'd spent his whole life being trained to handle and withstand just about anything. And this was no exception.

To his chagrin, Glendhran found he rather much enjoyed the practice, the brutal force of the release that came with the discomfort. And the feeling of having completely drained afterwards?even if it lasted only for a while.

But he'd never been attracted to his own gender, so he'd be darned before he'd ever admit to it. Much easier to get into trouble, then blame the ensuing act on buying himself some time by wearing out the enemy. Or?in case of his superiors?simply a way of submission.

In the end, the Voláris had learned their lesson in more than one way. Hadn't he rearranged the rest of their faces to his liking once they'd been done with him, and sluggish and drowsy from the act?

Tilting his head back forward, he took a deep breath, trailed his fingers back down to his cock. He was sure they'd display better manners from now on, that they'd never again underestimate an Asaazii warrior. They'd also found out that their humiliation tactics had no effect, and?best yet?Glendhran had reached an intense release in the process.

Yes, it had been a fun night.

Teasingly, he traced the flared crown of his shaft with a feather-light kurtköy kendi evi olan escort touch, then moved over the head and down underneath, to that sensitive spot on the underside of his glans. Stroked it back and forth with only the gentlest pressure.

Closing his eyes, he let out another moan, resisted the urge to grab himself firmly. Instead, he slowly trailed his fingertips down his length, then up again, brushing, gently tapping, teasing. His stomach muscles quivered as his cock flexed, held, then relaxed before flexing once more. The contrast felt amazing, the hard pressure of water on his back, the cool drops of it trailing down his front to softly dance with his warm fingers along his shaft.

Eyes slowly opening, he wrapped his hand around his hardness, gave his pulsing cock a few long, lazy strokes?his palm a mere whisper on the skin. Then, leaning back, he let the water pour over his face, his chest, through the tunnel of his fingers and down the quivering shaft.

He drew in a sharp breath at this new sensation, the cold almost shocking as it rushed over the hot, throbbing flesh. Felt a tingling start at the tip of his cock, then spread to the base and through his groin?the urge, the need to be sheathed, to be engulfed in a tight embrace.

His head fell forward and, chuckling, he decided to give in. Stepping forward, he moved away from the waterfall, and swam the few yards back to the shore. Rummaged through his saddle bag until he found the small vial of oil.

Since the water was pleasantly cool but not chilly, its gentle flow a tender caress, he remained in the natural pool. Rising, he poured a generous amount of oil onto his palm, replaced the vial. He was not in any hurry, so he used a few soft strokes to gently lube himself. Then withdrew his hand, waited, letting the anticipation built until his cock was quivering and jerking.

Chuckling, he wrapped his fingers back around the pulsing flesh. Softly at first, then with more and more pressure as he moved his hand over the hard shaft, painfully slowly. Down to the base, then up again, rotating as he slipped over the sensitive head, catching on the crown a few times before sliding down once more.

His nostrils flared as his breathing deepened, the drumming beat of the pulse in his neck an echo to the one under his palm. The muscles of his ass contracted again, sending a surge of pleasure from his tender rosebud to his cock.

A slow, wide smile spread on his face as he closed his eyes, remembered the Voláris, the fight, the ravaging. In response, his cock swelled even further, and he began to speed up his strokes. Firm and steady, he worked his whole length, rotating his hand, squeezing the shaft every now and then to create a continuously changing flow of sensations.

Still, he paced himself, his rhythm faster than before but somewhat languid and even. He didn't want to rush release, enjoyed lingering in this heightened state of arousal. From time to time, he paused his strokes to press a thumb to the underside of his glans, to circle that sensitive spot. Moaning, he squeezed the head as the first drops of clear liquid appeared at his slit, then rubbed his thumb around it.

And teasingly, playfully, released his cock, to thrum his fingers along the thick ridge along the bottom of his shaft.

Breathing deeply, quickly, he ignored the insistent throbbing that demanded to be attended to. Turned his attention to his balls instead, caressing, massaging the sensitive orbs. The muscles in his groin contracted, his cock, tight and angry, flexed and jerked repeatedly.

But he only traced a finger back up its length, feeling twin quivers inside his swollen shaft and under his touch. Testing himself, his discipline, his control, he brushed, just brushed the head and crown with the tips of his fingers.

Then, suddenly, grabbed his cock firmly, and gave himself a few hard strokes. He sucked in a breath, blew it out. Withdrew his hand just as suddenly, leaving his cock quivering and straining. Then repeated the process, using faster, firmer strokes each time.

A movement registered in the corner of his eye, so he returned to his steady, languid motions. Kept his head lowered while his gaze searched the line of trees for any sign of threat. All the while, his hand never stopped, never even hesitated.

That's how she found him, submerged to the upper thighs in water, stroking himself with even, lazy movements. And what a pleasant surprise it was, Julianne thought as she took in his bronzed, heavily muscled body, the chiseled face, the stubble lining a beautiful, strong jaw. And those startling blue eyes that stood in stark contrast to his short, pitch-black hair. A warrior, judging by the look of him. And a seasoned one, she mused, her eyes falling on the long, jagged scar that ran at an angle from one side of his rock-hard abs to the other.

She certainly hadn't expected to find him here, removed from the road, at this clearing some ways into the woods. But she definitely wasn't complaining.

Not many people knew about this spot. She'd stumbled upon it herself only a few years back while she was gathering mushrooms and berries. The same task she'd been tending to today. Although she now thought its completion might end up delayed a little longer.
08-09-2022, at 03:59 PM
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