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A Gentleman's Challenge	By : Riddle_of_Stars Category: Final Fantasy Games > Final Fantasy I Views: 1436 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy is property of Square Enix, and I do not own their work. This is a non-profit writing, written entirely for amusement.

Chapter List
- 1-A Gentleman's Challenge
- 1
Pre-amble: This is a piece of erotic fiction depicting rough sex between consenting adults. There is slapping, hair-pulling, choking, and name-calling; if any of this makes you uncomfortable, I would suggest that you not read.
The characters and setting are based on Squaresoft's Final Fantasy, which I do not own and did not create. This is a work of parody under fair use of copyrighted material. This was written purely for entertainment, and is not to be sold or otherwise profited from.
I am writing this for several reasons: firstly, I have been generally unable to find pornograpy – either in video or written form – which depicted the type of sex I myself actually have. Secondly, I decided that erotica would be an effective medium for expressing my views on gender politics. Within this story, I wanted to switch the normal narrative of the big strong man and the beautiful woman, by writing about a big strong woman (who also happens to be beautiful) and a beautiful man (who also happens to be rather strong). I also want to depict BDSM-like behavior as something which can be reciprical within a given sex act, rather than fixing a couple into distinct dominant and submissive roles.
So please, enjoy.
A Gentleman's Challenge
The red mage sat against the bank of the stream, naked as the day he was born. He held his rapier in both hands, one on the hilt, one on the back of the blade, and was using its edge to shave his legs. The rest of his clothing and acrutrements – breeches, shirt, boots, gloves, his signature cape and hat – lay neatly folded in a pile beside him.
Those denizens of Elfheim who passed him by let their gaze linger on him; some with amusement at his eccentricity, some with outrage at his inpropriety, and some with lust for the beauty of his form. His long platinum hair glittered in the sunlight as it fell down his back, his smooth skin was unmarred by scar or blemish, and his lithe physique seemed tailored for the exact task of stirring the hearts and wetting the loins of young maidens. He was very, very pretty.
"There is no possible reasonable explanation for what you're doing and how you're doing it."
The naked magician looked at the towering sight of his traveling companion. The red-haired amazon was a genetic prodigy: nearly six feet tall, and stronger than most men (and, he suspected, a fair number of the monsters) he had ever met. Though the contours of her form were lost in layers of lacquered red plate and scale-armor, the mage knew that her strength did not come at the cost of femine curvature. Despite her beauty, the fighter had not had the best of luck with men, who turned into insecure maidens the moment their vaunted ruggedness and masculinity was thrown into question. Those men who were not immediately intimidated by the woman for having the audacity to be taller than them typically did so when they found she was stronger, or better at sword-play, or had killed more monsters of the wild than they had.
Fortunately for her, if there was one virtue which the red mage had in truly boundless quantities, it was self-confidence. He had not quivered and ran from her initial flirtations, like so many supposed bravos, but returned them two-fold. The man's belief in his own talents – which were, in his defense, quite notable and numerous – was so proposterously high, that a simple thing like someone outmatching him in one or two of them would never leave him shaken. Rather, he saw the virtue of the red-haired figher's strength and ability, and was all the more drawn to her for it. The two had fast found themselves lovers.
"My dear, you should never doubt me. There is a reason for *everything* I do. As to why I am shaving my legs, good grooming is the principle thing which separates a civilized man from the beasts of the wild," he began, running the blade of the sword down the outside of his right calf.

"And why you're doing it out here, with a sword?"

"As to why I am currently employing the blade of this very fine rapier is a matter of choosing the right tool for the right job. When I was tidying up my under-arms and navel, I used the blade of a dagger, as you do when you take your baths."

The warrior woman blushed, just a bit, at the reminder of her own vanity.

"But," he continued, "for the leg, I find the sword-blade gives me more control, and there is no finer edge in all the land." He scraped away another layer of the fine white hairs, punctuating his point.
"Now, as to why I am doing it out here, under the light of the sun, instead of sequestered away in some shadowy bathouse, is the most obvious point of all," he paused a second, raising both his eyebrows.
"They are very nice legs, and it would be a shame if nobody but you and I had the pleasure of seeing them."
Still seated on the riverbank, he raised one high in the air like a dancer, proving his point. They were very nice legs; finely muscled, shimmering in the sunlight as rivulets of water ran down the lines of his calves and thighs.
The warrior laughed: a hearty, robust laugh, far removed from the shy titter his flirtations normally elicited from young maidens. She grabbed the outstretched leg with one arm, and with a gentle shove, sent the fop tumbling back over his shoulders.
"But alas, my dear! You have come too late, for I have just completed my routine, and now the legs are going away." He stood and stretched, naked before her, flaunting his body – which, based on past experience, he knew her to be ever so fond of – one last time, and then commenced the labor of dressing himself.
"Alright, pretty boy, you've had enough naked time. Put your pants on. It's time for your fencing lesson. Perhaps if you spent as much time fighting with that sword as you do shaving with it, we wouldn't have had to drag your body back from the Marsh Cave." She alluded to their last adventure, in which the red mage had fallen in battle against a pack of subterranean monstrosities. Their strong-backed healer had carried him on his shoulders back to the Elfheim temple, where the local priest convinced the freshly deceased red mage's soul *not* to depart his body. Though death was a somewhat common – and thankfully, remediable – condition in the life of an adventurer, it had still been something of an ordeal.
"Ho ho ho! You skewer me with your wit, good teacher!" the red mage responded, pulling a layer of chain-mail over his ruffled shirt. "If only thy sword were so sharp as thy tongue, perhaps I would not have been so freshly slain by zombies."
The figher made a clicking sound with her tongue, "You cheeky little shit. Are you questioning your teacher now?" Immediately upon joining the red mage in Corneria, the warrior-woman had appointed herself the wizard's instructor in all matters of swordsmanship. Though this had been partially a genuine effort to help her companion survive in the monster-infested world, it was largely an excuse for her to spend time alone with the beautiful man. He already possessed some talent for swordplay – as he did with sorcery, healing, music, poetry, cooking, sailing, love-making, and any other task the world might throw at him – but for all his talents, she was still his superior when it was a matter of skill at arms.
"Ah, Soothe thy pride, good professor!" He said as he straightened his hat, checking it's alignment in the reflection of the stream. "For though you are a valiant and extremely attractive warrior, my abilities have fostered underneath your tutelage to the point where they now exceed your own," he presented a gloved hand before her, the other covering his face in mock-sorrow. "There is no shame in this; a time comes when all students must surpass their teachers, and this is only a sign of the efficacy of your instruction."

She laughed again, grinning at his theatrics. "Well aren't we smug? I was going to go light on you today, considering your recent fatality. But now," she stretched arms in front of her, cracking her knuckles, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to put you back in your place."
"A challenge, then? We could trade words until the earth rots away, but a crossing of swords should lay this matter to rest." He said, swishing his rapier in front of him, and leveling it against his instructor.
"Yeah, if you want to think of it that way, instead of just me beating your pompous ass." She said, twirling her sword to limber her wrist.
"Well then, let us place a wager on our friendly duel! If I win, then you have to sleep with me. But, should I lose... then I shall have to sleep with you," he said, taking on a grave and serious tone. (“But, should I lose. . .then I shall have to sleep with you” might capture more of the emphasis I think you’re looking for)
Another roll of laughter rang out. "Ha ha! Sure thing; I always feel like a fuck after a fight. Provided you can offer me one." She had such a way with words. It was one of the red mage's favorite things about his lover. One of.
"En Guarde!"
With that, she sprang on him, sword flying. Though her longsword must've weighed half again the magician's rapier, she seemed to deliver two strokes for every one of his. The red mage was immediately put on the defensive, back-pedaling and parrying. What few ripostes he did manage were easily deflected by the warrior's shield. He wondered as to whether the red-haired figher's furious assault was motivated out of a desire to make him regret his earlier boasts, or to finish him quickly so she could take him home and fuck him.
She placed the point of her sword against his chain-mail, knowing that just the tip of the blade would penetrate the links to prick his skin. She grinned, pressing him back towards the water's edge. When she had pressed him the bank of the stream, the red mage cast his left hand behind him, fingers outstretched: with a few sorcerous words, the running water turned to ice, and the magician gracefully slid backwards across the other bank.
"That's cheating!" She shouted, sliding after him to rejoin the fight.
"Of course. Cheating is my strong suit," the mage quipped back. He cast another spell, and his sword began to glow red-hot.
As they continued to trade blows, the magician continued to armor himself in magics: a glittering ward which turned aside the warrior woman's swordblows; an enchantment which hastened the celerity of his blows, allowing him to match the speed of the amazon's sword; a hex which slowed her own; another curse which left her half-blind. With each round of boons to himself and banes on his opponent, the dynamic of their fight began to reverse. Before long, it was the mage who pressed the attack, and the sworsdwoman who could do no more than try to turn his strikes.
At last, the mage found his opening: he siezed her sword arm with his left hand, circled behind her, and placed the glowing edge of his blade against her neck.

"It seems, my dear, that you have lost." He said, running his tongue along the outside of her ear.
"You cheated! If you hadn't magicked your way out of everything, your ass would've been mine." She laughed, turning to nibble on his neck.
"Well then; if I bested you, as I as claim; then you must sleep with me; but if you were superior, as you claim, then I must sleep with you. The only solution I can see is that we'll just have to sleep with each other." He dropped his sword away, and pulled her into a hungry kiss, tongue dancing against hers.
"And besides. My ass is already yours." She laughed again, and slapped him on the cheek of it.
"You're damn right! Now let's get back to the inn and get you naked again."
Before he could even begin to walk away, she hoisted the long haired wizard onto her shoulders and ran back to the inn.
When she arrived at their quarters, she was delighted to find the other two members of their party absent. Sharing a room with four people could be terribly awkward. She threw her lover down on the bed, pressing herself against him, tongue darting into his mouth. He felt the weight of her armor against his body, and his hands reached vainly to undo its myriad straps. She grabbed a fistful of his hair, pulling his head back so she could run her teeth and tongue against his neck. The mage made a purring noise, encouraging her further. She ran her tongue up to his ear, and whispered: "I am going to fuck your brains out."
She tightened her grip on his hair and flicked her tongue against the inside of his ear, and was rewarded with more groans.
"Not if I fuck yours out first." He bucked and rolled her over, armor and all, taking the top position. He placed one hand around her neck, the other grabbing a fistful of her shaggy red hair. The hand choking her tightened as he whispered in her ear, "I am going to shove my cock into your pussy, your mouth, and your ass. I am going am going to pound you until you can't walk. To put it simply, my dear, I am going to fuck you apart."
The warrior was as tough and robust an individual as the red mage had ever met, and even had he been trying he doubted he could ever choke her unconcious with just one hand. As effette as he could be, they were fighers, both of them; they lived by the sword, killed without hesitation, and even died every now and then. A little bit of rough play wasn't going to hurt either of them.
And indeed, the magician's uncouth words and harsh grip only inflamed his mate all the more. She sat, up, kissing him fiercely. They rose to their feet, and she drove him into the wall, lips still locked against his, their tongues wrestling.
"Well, if you're going to do all that, we're going to need to get some of these clothes off again." She knelt down in front of him, unlacing the front of his breeches and pulling his cock out. Like the rest of him, it was smooth and pale, his pubic hair either shaved like his legs or removed permanently by magic. She wouldn't put it past him. She took his member in her mouth, swallowing it down the base, her tongue swirling around his shaft. He gripped her hair in both hands, and began pistoning his hips against her face. She had long learned the trick of engaging in this type of oral sex without gagging, and enoyed the passion of her lover's thrusts.
He looked down at her, and became vaguely aware that she was still fully armored. The sight turned him on more; this wasn't just anyone he was skull-fucking, this was a warrior who had slain ogres and sea-monsters. This was, to be sure, one hell of a woman. He pushed her down and back, until they were lying on the wooden floor, his cock still thrusting in and out of her mouth.
"That's it, you little cocksucker.... you whore... you slut.... suck your master's cock...."
They stayed like this a while, enjoying the feeling of the face-fucking. She reached down between her legs, shoved her hand underneath the drawstring of her breeches, and started fingering her own pussy. Her fingers matched the pacing of his thrusts, and as she to moaned in pleasure, the mage felt the vibrations on his cock. Her other hand worked at undoing the buckles on her armor, until she could slide a hand underneath her cuirass to caress one of her breasts.
He rose to a kneeling position, cock still in her mouth. His left hand joined hers between her legs, his fingering her pussy while she stroked her clit. His other hand grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her head against him. Her moans increased increased, her hips bucked against his hand, and her felt her climax, hard. She contracted around his fingers, and his cock popped out of her mouth as she arched her back and screamed aloud.
The red mage grinned. "One down, many more to go. Now that you've come once, perhaps we should actually work on getting undressed."
This was always the most awkward part of their sex, the furious race to remove the other's clothing, while still unable to resist each other's bodies. He unlaced her vambraces, running his tongue along the inside of her arm when he did so. He finished unbuckling her cuirass, and threw it to the corner with a loud crash. Her shirt came next, unveiling the massive breasts that were hidden away beneath her armor. He put one nipple in his mouth, flicking his tongue against it as he unbuckled the armor on her thighs. When he heard the steel crash against the ground, he knelt down in front of her, un-doing the buckles of her boots and pulling them off her feet. Once she was free of them, he pulled down her breeches, leaving her naked at last.
The warrior truly did have the body of an amazon: tall and muscular, yet still curvacious in her hips and chest. The mage licked her calves, then her thighs, working his way up to her bare pussy. He grabbed her ass – that marvellous ass – with both hands, and buried his face against her naked sex. He ran his tongue against her labia and flicked it against her clit. She gripped his hair with both hands, grinding her pussy against his face.
She stood over him, moaning as he repaid the favor of the face-fucking from earlier. "oh my god... you fucking whore... lick it, you bastard... lick my fucking pussy....lick it all..." She was barely aware of the words that passed her lips, enthralled in the sensation of the mage's tongue in her sex. She pushed him down to the floor, straddling his face, and picked up the tempo of her grindings.
The red mage responded to her aggression, lashing his tongue across her pussy. His whole world became envoloped by her; the scent of her sex filled his nostrils, the taste of her juices coated his tongue, the sounds of her moans filled his ears, the sight of her naked body rising above him filled his eyes.

"Fucking... fucking...little...whore..." her dirty talk became more broken up by her gasps as she approached her climax. With another scream – loud enough that half the town must have heard – she came again.
"Two down." She said with a grin, as she dismounted her lovers face. She raised him up, wanting him naked, wanting him inside her, wanting it now. His hat had been knocked aside early in the fray, and soon his cloak, shirt, chainmail, breeches, and boots joined the growing pile of clothing and armor.
They kissed, their naked bodies pressed against one another, feeling the strength of each other's bodies. He ran his hands down across her smooth abdominals, two of his fingers entering her sex. His other hand grabbed her throat again, and pushed down onto the bed. Her eyes rolled up into her head, and she let out a long groan, enjoying the feeling of being choked and fingered at the same time.
He felt the wetness of her pussy, and knew she was more than ready for him, but wanted to savor the feeling a bit longer. "Do you want me inside you?" He asked.

"yes...."
"Where?"

"In my pussy..."
"Do you want me to fuck you?"
"yesss... fuck me hard...."

"Very well. I can't refuse a lady's request." Removing his fingers from her sex, he guided his cock into her waiting opening.
He grabbed her hips with both hands and thrust into her, hard and fast. They immediately hit a high tempo, the sound of flesh slapping on flesh accompanying their moans of pleasure.
She looked up at him, admiring the definition of his stomach, his chest, his arms; he really was beautiful. She watched him throw his head back, silver hair flying behind him. He grabbed hold of both her arms, using her for counterbalance as he pistoned into her faster yet.
"Oh my god... I'm coming... I'm coming again... don't stop, you bastard, don't stop, fuck me, fuck me hard, keep pounding that hard cock inside me...." Her breathing picked up, her back arched, and she began to climax for a third time.
"That's it... come for me, come for me you slut..." he responded, watching her scream. He loved the sight of her breasts bouncing while he pounded into her, of the contrast between curved hips and flat abdomen, of the sight of her shaggy hair when it was damp with sweat and wild with exertion.
As she recovered from her orgasm, he scooped her legs onto his shoulders, and leaned forward until her knees were by her head. Both of his hands wrapped around her throat, choking her as he fucked her. It was one of his favorite positions, and one of hers as well. He stared into her eyes, half-groaning, half-whispering, "you bitch, you slut, you fucking little whore..." he would occasionally release one hand from her neck to slap her across the face. He would've felt bad, but he knew that she'd get him back later.
"What are you?"

Slap.
"A whore..."
"Who's whore?"

Slap.

"Your whore..."
He put both his hands back around her throat, pounded his cock into her pussy, and felt her come for a fourth time.
They stopped for a moment, catching their breath, and she started to grin.
"But I'm also...."

He grinned back.
"Your mistress."

This was their favorite part of the game; the switching from top to bottom, aggressor to aggressee, the one being fucked and the one doing the fucking.
She scrambled out from beneath him, turning him over. The red mage put up a token amount of resistance, though in truth, he was unsure if he actually could overpower her in a contest of strength. Maybe if he used magic, he thought.
She sat astride him, lowering her pussy onto his cock. She ground her hips against his, and pinned both his hands above his head with one hand, while the other encircled his neck. She enjoyed choking as much as being choked, and fortunately, it seemed her lover was much the same. He groaned as he felt her pussy clamp around his cock, and her hand clamp around his neck.
"So, now who's the whore?"
"I am..." he responded.
She slapped him. Hard. Probably harder than he had slapped her a few moments ago.
"I am, what?"
“I am, mistress..."
She continued to ride him, both hands on his neck. She looked like a goddess, perched on top of him there, hair wild. He put one hand on her pussy, and rubbed her clit as she rode him.
"Ah, yes, you little slut... finger your mistress's pussy... make me come....."
He moved his hips with hers, one hand on her hip, the other on her clit. She still had one hand clamped tight around his neck, and the other hand moved up to her breast to play with a nipple.
"That's it... just like that....your mistress is about to come, you whore... fucking... little... WHORE!" It was a wild, bucking orgasm, her screams ringing through the inn, uncaring as to who heard them. She collapsed down on top him, grabbing his hair and nibbling his neck in the afterglow of the orgasm.
"Now..." he began, running his tongue along her collarbone, "since I have been forbidden from coming in your pussy, might I instead come.... oh say, on your face?"
"Sure," she said, with a wink. After having had blood and gore splattered against her face in battle, a little bit of semen was an inconsequential thing.
"And might I have the honor of tit-fucking you first?" He asked. She dismounted, and he turned her so she was lying on her back. Straddling her chest, he placed his cock in between her tits; those massive, gorgeous tits. In this case, his love of them was not only aesthetic, but quite functional as well. She put her hands on either side of her breasts, pushing them together while his cock slid in between. He started out slow, arching back, letting her gaze up at his body. It was a beautiful angle to behold, and he looked like a statue of old.
As he started to pick up pace, he wrapped one hand in a tangle of red hair, the other grabbing her throat, just under her jaw. His cock was pistoning in between her tits at a furious speed now, and she could tell that he was about to come. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth in preparation, wanting to taste his seed as it fell on her face.
"Oh yes... my slut... my fucking, gorgeous, slut... I'm going to come all over your face...."
"Do it. Come for me. I want my master's come on my face..."
With a groan, he released. Strands of semen flew onto her face, her hair, and into her mouth. She licked her lips, enjoying the taste of her lover's sexual fluids. He stared down at her, grinning, admiring his work.
"Let me get you a towel." He said.
She laughed aloud, and lay back, making no efforts to remove the semen from her ace and neck. He returned, a small white rag in his hands, and began to wipe his fluids from her skin.
"You'll have to forgive me. Terribly sorry about the mess," he said, removing a dab of semen from her hair.
"Oh, no worries. I was asking for it, after all." She said, stretching her arms back behind her.
When he finished wiping her clean, he lay behind her and put an arm over her breast. As they lay spooning, the magician playfully nibbled at the warrior's neck and shoulders, running his tongue along the defined musculature of her back. She groaned and closed her eyes, arching into him and reaching back to run her fingers through her silver hair.
"So, was it good for you?" He asked, flicking his tongue against the side of her neck.
"Not bad," she purred, grinding her hips against his. "Though I do have one complaint."

The red mage let out a tiny gasp of mock horror. "A complaint? And whatever could that be?"
"Well..." she let out another moan as his hand drifted down to lazily circle her clitoris, "you promised to fuck me in the mouth, the pussy, and the ass. You got the first two all right, but my ass feels pretty left out. "And now this guy", she ground against his now-deflating manhood for emphasis, "doesn't seem to be up for any more games."
A grin spread across the naked sorcerer's lips. "Would you like to see a trick?"
The mage rose from the bed and stood beside it. With an incantation of some ancient words and a few magic hand-wavings, his flacid cock sprang to full erection, instantly rejuvinated and re-invigorated.
"Well damn, where'd you learn that one? Don't tell me... no. No way. It wasn't that innocent young healer of ours?" The amazon balked at the thought of the shy white mage, who's face flushed at any sort of flirtation, sharing such magics with his foppish fellow adventurer.
"Ah ah ah! A man must have his secrets, my dear. Let it be sufficient to say, this bit of magic has fully restored my abilities, and I would love nothing more than to bend you over and fuck that gorgeous ass of yours." He had produced a small bottle of oil, and was now applying it's contents liberally to the shaft of his cock.
She had stood up as well, and was stroking his shaft, helping apply the oil to his member. "Mmm.... why don't you make me?" She said, with a wink in her eye.
"With pleasure." He grabbed her by the arm and by the hair, and spun her around so the warrior's back was against him. He ground against her for a moment, feeling his rigid cock against the cheeks of her ass, and then forced her down against the bed. She put up a token amount of resitance – not enough to escape her lovers grasp, but just enough to add a sense of excitement to their struggle.
Still holding her hair, he pressed her face against the bed. He slapped her ass, hard. "Are you ready for my cock inside you again? Is my little slut ready to get fucked in her whore ass?" Slowly, he began to guide his manhood into her anus. The warrior let out a grunt, and then a groan, as she felt her lover penetrate her in ways the gods had surely never intended.
She felt him sink in, inch by inch, until his balls her resting against her ass cheek. "Oh god...." she moaned, her face still pressed into the sheets. "That's it....push that cock all the way in me..."

He began to move his hips; slowly at first, feeling her sphincter relax around his cock. She was warm and tight, and he could feel her shudder as began to fuck her. He tightened the grip on her hair as he fucked her, burying his head in the amazon's wild red mane.
"You like that, slut? You like being fucked in the ass? You like being impaled on your master's cock?" He slapped her ass with each sentence, driving each question home.
"Yes.... Yes, I love it. God, fuck my ass. Fuck your little slave's ass." She propped herself up on one elbow, and moved her free hand underneath her so she could finger her pussy in time with her lover's cock pounding into her ass.

He stared at her, admiring the sight of her muscular back, toned by years of armor and swordplay. He loved the contrast it made against her wide, curving ass, and the way it jiggled with each thrust into her. Looking up, he saw the mirror facing directly against them, and took in the sight of their furious lovemaking. Her massive breasts bounced forward in time with their fucking. Her face was a mask of pleasure, eyes closed.
"Look at yourself," He said, using his grip on her hair to jerk her head back. "Look at that gorgeous, wanton slut in the mirror," she gasped as she opened her eyes, and increased the pace of her attentions to her pussy. "Look at her getting fucked up the ass like a common street whore."
She gazed at the sight of her lover in the mirror, taking in the details of his body. For all his vanity, he really was gorgeous. She loved the way his muscles tensed when he fucked her; the washboard-like abdomen, the smoothly sculpted pectorals and arms, the white hair he tossed over his shoulders when it fell into his eyes. "Oh gods, yes, fuck your whore, fuck me, split me in half with that cock..." She arched her back as she came, pleasure flooding through her body from the fingers in her pussy and the cock in her ass.
He pulled her up so she so was standing in front him, back arched, his cock still buried her ass. He grasped her arm with his free hand, stabilizing her and restraining her. They drank in the sight of their own reflection, their own beauty, made all the more profound by their intensity and violence of their lovemaking. He let go of her hair to trail his hand up her body, over her taught abdominals and up to her heavy breast, pushed forward by the posture of their bodies. He reached up to her neck, and slowly tightened a hand around her throat. He his head against her ear, nibbling the outer edge, darting his tongue deep inside it.
"God, we're beautiful." He whispered into her ear. She was inclined to agree.
She ground against him, feeling his cock in her ass, reaching back with her free hand to grab a fistful of his hair.He pushed himself deeper, and tightened the grip around her throat. "That's it... choke me, you bastard. Choke me for you're all worth."
He let go of her arm, wrapping his other hand around her neck as well. She put her hands on the bed, arching up like a sphinx, admiring the sight of his hands around her neck as he fucked her. There was something so erotic about that sight, with both hands wrapped around her neck. She had no fears or insecurities about him ever truly hurting her; this was a man who would, and indeed had, died in battle beside her. She knew she could best him in combat – fair combat, not that chicanery from earlier in the day. When he choked her, it was because she let him choke her. Even now, playing the role of the submissive slut, she was in control.
He did as she instructed, tightening around her throat with both hands until his knuckles were white. Though he felt her breath constrict, she never showed signs losing conciousness. It was a sign of her strength, that she could take all he could he could give without succumbing. This was an ogre-slayer. This was a woman who needed no gentleness, and that aroused him all the more.
"Lie flat," he said, releasing her neck and pushing down against her back. She complied, flattening out on her stomach, and she felt the red mage slide his knees up along either side of her ass, his weight resting on her buttocks. The position tightened her grip around his cock, and he let out a long moan of pleasure as he resumed pumping into her.
She craned her neck to look at him in the mirror. His face was wreathed in ectasy, his platinum hair fell down his spine as he threw his head back. He grabbed hold of her arms, folding them into the small of her back and siezing both her wrists with one hand. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, pressing her face into the sheets once more. She basked in the delicious feeling of his weight pressed against her, of his cock inside her, of his hands binding her. His hips sped up, his motions became erratic, and she knew he was going to climax soon.
"Oh my god.... your whore ass feels so good... you slut... you fucking, dirty, bitch...!" He pulled out at the last second – a habit from their vaginal coitus – and shot his load across her back. It landed on her ass, her shoulders, her hair, on the sheets in front of her. He relaxed his grip, the fury of their lovemaking gone, the game ended. He became gentle and sweet once again, running his fingers across her back, watching her shudder at the slight touch.
"Well, I suppose I should go get that towel again."
- 1
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A Gentleman's Challenge