Igrayne - Part 2

Part Two

The dawn wind woke me because I'd set a sort of mental sentry for that purpose. The room was against the East wall of the keep, and each arrow slit showed sky a lighter gray than the room's blackness. Inside, I could distinguish nothing. Touch, however, was still available and quite enjoyable. Igrayne's back was pressed against my front, and I held one breast in my hand. I enjoyed these sensations as I woke and then ran my fingers as far over her skin as I could reach without disturbing her fit to my body. She half woke but then snuggled against me more firmly.

The pleasure of external pressure was soon overmatched by the discomfort of internal pressure. I visited the garde-robe. No sight was needed to find that. On exiting, I followed the wall until I came to the door. I placed the beam across it to lock it fully and delved into a purse that I'd left with my clothes. Merlyn had offered me an herb which had an enchantment against morning breath. I chewed some and spat it out into the rushes. I continued until the bed was dimly outlined against an arrow-slit. I then returned to bed by keeping toward that slit.

My motions had half-wakened Igrayne, and my return -- rustling through the rushes -- finished that task. What my hands had explored, I wanted my mouth to taste, and I started at her forehead and worked down. Her brows were fine, prickly on the lips when swept inward, but smooth when slicked out. Her temples were touched by hairs so fine my lips could not detect them but my tongue could. Her ears were convoluted, tasty and quite ticklish. Here she stopped me.

"My Lord, I must rise."

"Is the kitchen so laggard that they need their mistress' supervision to serve a simple meal?" I asked.

"I doubt that any in the kitchen expect to see me ere you ride away," she answered. "But there is a crisis threatening our woolens, and I must protect them from moths."

She left me laughing there and went to the garde-robe. I noticed that she passed in front of all but the leftmost arrow slit to do so. She was outlined against the gray for a moment, suspicion of sweet breast, blockage of almost all, brief outline of hip, then repeated. This gave me an idea. When, after what seemed a long time, Igrayne came back out to the larger room, I asked her to look out and report the weather.

She entered the embrasure to look in all directions and reported that it was much lightened in the East, clouds to the South, etc. I hardly listened. Instead I looked at what the light revealed of her when she was so near it.

The silhouette was still the most revealing. While she tried to describe the Southern sky, her right breast was outlined. It was large and jutting, with only the sweet sag that bespoke a woman rather than a statue. She raised her arm to brace herself, and the breast raised slightly in response. The nipple pointed pertly in the chill, if not so far as had met my warm mouth in the night. She was turned slightly away, and her belly made only a slight bulge. Her hip, however, was canted out by her stance; and her flank made a sweet arc against the light. She turned so that her head was in what light there was. It was faint enough so that her golden hair and cream skin were the same shade of lightness. As she walked back, there came a moment when I could see the light framed by her thighs. These spread broad and were topped by a tangle that was only hinted by the silhouette. Then she was back and cool and ready to be warmed.

I was right glad to clip her in my warm arms. The morning kiss was sweet, and her tongue entered my mouth greedily. I licked the invader and sucked gently on it. She licked the inside of my lips once more, then broke to kiss me on the nose. I kissed her chin and then along her jaw. My kisses were becoming wetter; and I licked, rather than really kissing, the space behind her ear from bottom to top. This was salt and had a special taste which was just Igrayne. I lipped the top of this ear and then licked the inside while she wiggled. I traveled down the side of her neck with little lip-nips and short licks. I found one spot where her motions underwent a subtle change. Here there was no longer a girl trying to escape a tickle, but a woman whose body responded to a sexual thrill -- however minor.

While my mouth explored that spot and the immediate surroundings, I stroked down her side and back and flank. All was smooth. There was soft padding over all, but one could feel muscles move underneath. Finally, I reached her haunch. Here was fullness, here was softness, here was firmness when she flexed in response to my squeezing hand. My lips left their vantage, pleasant as it was, and kissed down her neck to her shoulder. Thence, I made a brief expedition down her arm to her elbow and back up. I intended nothing serious, but wanted to acknowledge that portion of her body. From her shoulder I kissed diagonally to the edge of her breast and then around that base. I continued down with lip-nips and licks and real kisses, as well. As I crossed her belly, I think she found my beard as ticklish as the kisses. I passed about an inch to the side of her navel. Then I changed course.

Before she could react, I was kissing her navel and searching it with my tongue. I let go of her haunch and pushed on the front of her thigh. She fell onto her back when she sensed my intent. I clasped a breast in my left hand and a thigh in my right. But I was giving the lovely, firm, belly my primary attention. I circled the navel with licks and kisses before returning to that center and plundering it again. I stayed until the squirming became real dislike. She pushed me away and downward. This direction did I take, and she pulled me back immediately. From this I guessed that the fool of a Duke had kissed only two of her lips. I was less concerned about the disguise every moment, but more concerned about the hour. I decided that this delight must be delayed. I did kiss her mons, however, and pretended to pluck its hairs with my lips. Then I reversed my course and licked and nibbled my way up her belly toward her breasts. What my mouth was cheated of, however, would not be denied my hand. I covered her delta with my palm and smoothed those curls downward.

When my mouth reached her breast, I kissed a circle around its base and then a spiral up to the top. There, I licked around the nipple until it stood up tall and rigid. Then I blew on it until she shivered. Only then did I take its sweetness into my mouth. I sucked it between firm lips and then opened my mouth as wide as I could and sucked the whole top of her breast within. I eased all but the nipple out and rubbed my lips across that smooth twig. Then I went to simple, gentle sucking.

Meanwhile I was fingering her lower lips. I pressed them gently and stroked the hair on the outer ones. Then I parted those with two fingers and slipped the middle finger between them. Her inner lips were tight together and moistly slick. These I stroked slowly and as gently as possible. I was at her breast at the same time, so I had a little difficulty distinguishing her responses to one action from her responses to the other. Nonetheless, I took a slight easing of her thighs and rolling of her legs as an invitation to further search below. I brought the finger between and outer lip and the inner ones. Still with gentle pressure, I moved that inner one against its twin. The motion was less than half a fingerbreadth in its greatest extent. The friction, never great, decreased as I continued. I added my index finger to the friction and then used it to hold the lips to their greatest extension while the middle finger crept to the juncture.

There it parted the inner lips easily and stroked between. Here was honey enough, generated that morning, to ease its passage to the center. Thence I stroked in all directions, first for small distances then, gradually, for larger ones.

Caressed at breast and groin, Igrayne was content for a bit to lie there and react. The reaction was mostly in small motions of her body and in quickening breath. My strokes lengthened until I reached the fold where her inner lips met. There I met the hider, again unhidden. I dipped below to gather more mead and returned to stroke the hider. I dipped more mead and spread it around the general neighborhood, dipped more and re-annointed the hider. Igrayne's breath was coming quick indeed, and I kissed over to the other breast while continuing that pattern below. Then, on my next trip to gather honey, I stuck my finger deep into the hive. Igrayne gasped. I returned to the hider, but the journey was no longer uneventful. The path was moving up and down faster than my finger was traveling.

Then Igrayne's sweet hand moved to my chest and then downward. The light was good enough now that I could see a pale shape that must be Igrayne's face above me. I am sure, however, that she could see nothing of her hand's progress between our two shapes.

"Milady," I said, "I rode yestereve, and I must ride this day." Her hand stopped but she made no response. "And I rode twice last night, as well."

"My lord, I am sorry."

"Art thou? Thou seemed glad enough last night. Almost as glad as I was." Women apologize first and think next, but she was thinking now. "Be thou the rider this dawning."

"Pfft! Right gladly, my lord." This was not a giggler, except when tickled. This lady had a deep chuckle.

We abandoned our caresses for a moment to arrange ourselves. It is not a position into which one falls by accident. I took a diagonal which put my feet well to the West of my head, so that she was facing what light there was. She moved the bolster to the head and the blanket to the foot. Then she knelt above me and bent forward. I stole a kiss on each nipple and then gestured for her to proceed. She took me in her hand and sat back. The position had been proof against spending for my life up until then, and I had a vigorous night behind me. The touch of that hand, however, made me fear an exception. In any event, there was stiffness enough for our purposes and more. She parted herself with one hand, placed me with the other, and then stroked the head of my member once from the back of her honeyed vale to the front. Then she returned it to the critical location and settled herself further.

The tip of my member was within the precincts, but she stopped. She shifted her weight to one leg and inched the other one back and then repeated the process. The motions, which clearly had no erotic intent, swirled my tip within her vestibule. She was better satisfied with this position and settled back. Her wet warmth engulfed almost all the head of my member. She slowly straightened and the rest of the head was within her. As she lowered herself from there I could feel the head pass through the entrance strictures and then that band tighten on the flesh, even more sensitive, just behind the head. At this point, she moved slightly from side to side -- apparently to be sure of the direction. This twist and turn on the closely clasped, supersensitive, flesh made me gasp. She gave me an absent smile and lowered herself until she knelt with her knees on either side of my chest and her glorious haunches seated on my legs and groin.

Here, with my essence held totally captive within her, I gestured for her to stop and offered her the hair clasp that I had removed the night before. That hair streaming around her was a glorious sight, but what it hid was more glorious yet. Here, with her very self impaled upon my lance, she straightened completely, shook her hair back, and caged that entire wild mane at the top of her neck. There was more light in the room, and I could see her shape as she sat there, hands reaching behind her head. The hair, whose golden color memory had to supply in that light, hung in waves down her back to below her waist. Her brow was wide and high, with the eyes beneath wide apart. Her nose was small and pert, spoiling the gravity of her expression and clashing with the wide lines of her mouth. Her chin and jaw were sharp edged and determined. The throat below was long and elegant, leading to shoulders broad for a woman. There was nothing masculine about the torso below, however. Instead of narrowing down from below her shoulders, her chest widened to support her magnificent breasts. These jutted forward in her present raised-arm stance. The curve below defied simile as it defined loveliness. The round shields at the ends, two inches across, were dark in that light and looked roughened from the cool air. Their bosses extended far and moved as pointers whenever Igrayne moved. Her waist narrowed below her ribs, and a small hillock with a well in its middle was her belly. From the waist, the hips flared out; and her thighs were at a wide enough angle that I could see the insides of both against my hips. The hair between was not reached by the still-scant light and looked dark.

Clasp arranged, she bent forward until her nipples touched my torso, and then she began to move back and forth. The tickle of her nipples against my skin was immensely arousing, and the pull of her inner strictures along my member doubly so. For the moment, I could do no more than put my hands on her side and leg and experience all those sensations. The position, delightful as it was, was an obvious strain on her; she straightened her arms and changed her angle of attack. I stole a glance at her face and noted an inward-turned expression.

By this time I was in a stable state of arousal. I was extremely sensitive, but I knew, from previous experiences in this state and this position, that I could go on like this indefinitely. Such a future was, at that moment, very appealing.

She was holding herself a little above me and moving from side to side. My member not only was drawn out at both sides of this motion, but it was rubbed against her ultimate softness at the middle. Her breasts swayed in time to that motion, and I reached my left hand up to catch one. As I toyed with its furthest firmness, I slid my right hand up her left thigh. Soon I was near the scene of the action. Without trying to interfere, I played with her lowest curls. Then, with my fingers still there, I ran my thumb down to the juncture of her lower lips. When I reached there, she gasped and lowered her head. She changed her stroke to a simple back-and-forth. The feel to my member was little different from what my own thrusting would have delivered. I rubbed the front of her furrow, and she straightened, but continued her motions. I continued rubbing, and she looked worried. I played a bit with her nipple, but the surrounding flesh was puffy, and I didn't know whether to play with it or not.

I switched breasts. She was moving faster, breathing faster and looked like she was in pain. Then she pressed down on me and arched her back so that her belly was pushed toward me. The effect was that of a recurved bow when its string breaks.

She moved forward until I was almost out. Then she pressed backward twice as hard as before. Her arm muscles were sharply delineated despite the layer of padding. Her sweet belly was so taut that it quivered. She clasped my member as if to squeeze it out. And then the rhythmic clasps on my member pulsed like a beating heart, but much faster. Her face looked like she were undergoing torture. She moaned thrice and then hissed. The clutch at my member faltered, then stopped. She looked at me, unseeing. Then she fell down on me so fast that my left arm eased her down.

I clasped her with my right arm and extricated my other. Then I held her with both. If one leads a military force and something totally unwonted (aside from an actual attack) happens, then one moves off to the top of a hillock, send one small party off for wood and another off for water, assign half the remainder to stand guard while the other half does some camp-setting chores. At that point one can think. Stopping to think while the army is looking on, leads to doing something stupid in order to do something. So it is with a woman. Hold her, hug her, pat her, tell her that she is pretty. Then decide what the situation calls for. Do not be surprised if the situation calls for more clipping, more patting, and more compliments.

The top of her head being the only convenient spot, I kissed that. I clipped her tight, flipped the hair to one side to clear my space, and petted her from shoulder to haunch with my right hand while merely holding her tight with my left. Then I switched hands. She was sweating in a room still rather chill, so I brought the hair back and arrayed it over her. I kissed the top of her head again. Meanwhile I was crooning.

"Wondrous wife. Beloved bedmate. Lovely lass. Delightful darling. Precious and pretty. Luscious loveling. If this trip only brings this moment, it will be well worth the effort." (We had spun some story about continuing on from there and rallying the duchy. I almost said "Well worth the risk," but mention of risk has spoilt more than one bedding. Women worry so.) "I remember you as the loveliest lass in the world, and so you are. But I find that I have forgotten half your beauty, even when I think that of you."

"Milord, thou didst not. ..."

"No. I did nothing. Thou didst it all. And lie here and rest a minute, and we'll find if thou canst do still more."

I kissed the top of her head again. Then I stroked down to her haunch with my right hand and clasped that in a friendly, and -- perhaps -- slightly lascivious, manner while she caught her breath. The sky was somewhat brighter behind us, and I could see her hair in its true color. I strayed a hand though one of her strands.

"Gloriously golden, her hair is revealed in heaven's rays."

She kissed my chest, and I clipped her closer. She kissed over to my nipple, and I eased my hold. Then she rose, and I gripped her waist and haunch and pressed her down on me. She straightened for a moment and brushed her hair back.

"Ardently angelic," I said. That gave me an idea, after I'd said it.

She was in more light now. Her hair, being pressed back where it would obscure nothing, was the color of honey where it was all together and a cloud of gold at the ends which floated free. Her expression was slightly distracted, but her face was glorious. The skin was cream risen in the night, her brows and lashes were a shade darker than her hair. Her eyes were the deep blue of a shaded lake. Her lips were the red-brown of the dried blood of game birds. Her tongue which licked them was a brighter red. If the skin of her face was cream, the skin of her breasts was the milk left behind. It was the whitest white with a little blue seeming to hide beneath it. Her nipples and the flesh around them were bright pink. Even as I watched, those nipples were growing out. Her belly was a white as her breasts. The well at its center was just darkness, as was the mystery between her thighs.

I slid my hands up the outside of her thighs to the widest part of her hips. "Broad beamed," I said. I stroked them up her torso until I was cupping a breast in each hand. "And buxom."

With my hands on her breasts and my thumbs on her nipples, she began the side to side motion that she had used before. I stroked one nipple in time with her motions, moved that thumb off, and then stroked the other nipple. She was slightly lower, and my member was slightly deeper within her. My eyes were on my hands and her breasts, but my attention was lower. I finally looked at her face, and her eyes were on my chest, but her attention -- like mine -- seemed to be within. I felt her clutch me within. I looked up again, she smiled at me, and the clutch came again. I thrust with my hips as best I could in that situation.

"Closely clasping," I intoned in my best imitation of a bard's voice.

Perhaps in response to my thrusts, she shifted into a direct up and down movement. She rose until the head of my member was just inside her outer ring and then clasped that tight while still rising. My member, perforce, rose with her. When she reversed course, she would relax within; and I would begin to slip out. Before the head was completely out, her downward motion stopped the exit; and she slowly enveloped me again. I had never in my life climaxed on my back, but that precedent had not included such motions. I gathered my wits with some difficulty. 'Delightful darling' was unworthy of this partner. I toyed with her nipples and pondered. 'Deceived' sprang to mind, and I suppressed it.

"Delightful dame of dancing depths."

She straightened to a near vertical. Her movements were a straight up-and-down along my member with no special clutches. Her face looked worried or tired, which I could well believe. I raised my legs behind her, but she did not use them for rest. She moved with simplicity and economy in only one fashion.

"Endearingly eager enchantress."

I dropped my hands from her breasts to her knees. After feeling those flex for a moment, I ran my hands up the insides of her legs. She did rest back against my legs, then. She was fully skewered when she did so, and she rested one arm on my chest to brace herself as she shifted her legs from a kneeling to a squatting position. Then she raised up once, and I could see the golden gleam of her delta and myself far back piercing her. Then she slipped almost the entire way down and began moving in circles just above my groin.

"Faithful and faultless falcon of fervor."

The motion kept the head of my blunt arrow well within her, and always being rubbed against some part of her entrance. It was bliss and torment. I kept stroking her inner thigh with my left hand while my right reached that bright delta. I stroked the damp curls as she moved around my member. Then I spread my first two fingers and stroked her parted lips. I returned my left hand to her right breast and held and stroked it. I watched her face as I stroked quim or nipple and repeated what made her attention turn inward. The earlier glimpse of her golden lower hair inspired my next line.

"Gold garlands a gladsome glade."

Her attention had truly turned inward. She abandoned all complexity to return to an up-and-down stroke. I stopped with my middle finger just outside the meeting point of her lower lips. Then I stroked inside. She gasped and speeded up. My member had gone from feeling caressed by her softness to feeling burnt by her friction.

"Hallowed and hale helpmate of my haft."

Then there was a flutter around said haft. My legs were widespread and bent, and she reached back with one hand to push against a knee. This turned her more toward the light and gave her more leverage for her movements. It may have been a trick of the dawn, but a blush spread from Igrayne's head to below her breasts. Her breath was coming in gasps. I stroked both the nipple and the space where her lower lips met. The flutters on my shaft became steady graspings.

"Igrayne ignites."

And ignite she did! She threw herself backward Against my raised legs and writhed against my shaft and my rubbing finger. The clasps on my shaft felt both pulsing and almost constant. Her face was drawn as if by torture. She looked at the ceiling and shouted:

"Yes? Oh. ... Ah? Yes! Yes!. Oh yes. Oh, oh, oh, YES! Oh. Oh. .. Oh. Oh."

Still clasping my essence, she threw herself forward and clung to me. The rest of what she said was muffled in my shoulder and came out as "mmm" and "hnnn."

I pulled her haunches against my groin and raised myself as well as I could in that position, not much. Then, as her pulsing grip on my member became a recurrent clasp and then a flutter around it, I relaxed. I raised my arms to pat her back and clip her to me.

"Kissed by my lips." I kissed the top of her head again. "Kept in my care." (Did I mention that we were not obsessed by spelling?)

I held her and rocked a hairbreadth each way. I waited for her breath to slow a little. When it did, I tightened my arms a trifle to let her know that she was held by my desire, not only from exigency.

"Lovely and loved. ... Lady and lover. ... Lithesome lass. ... The luxurious, lubricious, luscious, lusty, lover lies safe in the luminous lull."

That brought a movement that was suspiciously like a suppressed chuckle.

"So thy critical sense is back?" I asked.

"My lord, I said not one word."

"No. Thou didst not. You are loved, though. And all those other things. And lovely. And a luscious armful. And a lusty lover, if not precisely at this moment. Lie thou here, my lady. That is a command!"

I spread her hair over her back. That didn't work, so I moved it to my left and then used my left hand to spread it over my right arm and her back. That was much better. I kissed her hair, and she -- after a while -- blew across my chest hairs. Otherwise her breath was even.

My left hand had been patting down her hair. I moved it to her rump and cuddled and squeezed there and below. She stirred.

"Art thou rested enough?"

"Fully. And the dawn is well advanced."

"Magnificent muse of merriness."

She chuckled openly at that. But she rose up, fitted me fully in her, and resumed the up-and-down motions. When I was fully firm, she shifted over to the rotary motion. After a minute, she went over to the side-to-side motion. This faltered. I was concerned.

"My lord, I cannot."

"Well, I can."

I pulled the bolster to my side and tried to turn so that she was upon it. I came out, and we were in a mess for a moment. Then I was up and kneeling. I placed her on her back athwart the bolster. I knelt over her for a moment then I placed myself at her threshold and thrust within.

This was no strife, though strove we both. This was no joust, though justly did we keep time. This was simple swiving swiftly done.

Wet was the road by this time, and the path was now an accustomed one. My member had been teased unmercifully in the previous position, it felt for every crevice now. I stroked smoothly for a dozen strokes, and then the whole tension and friction of that morning joined together to overwhelm my head.

Whatever Igrayne's weakness, it was in her legs and not between them. Fast as I was to kindle, she took the spark first. Straightly did I stroke and swiftly. Straitly did the sheath grasp and slickly. Igrayne's whole body stiffened and pressed her center toward me. My member was grasped closely with a pulsing clench. I drove into that warm wildness and spent and spent and spent.

We lay breathing into each other and too tired to move away. There was a knocking at the door, whether it began then or we just noticed it then I couldn't tell.

I summoned enough energy to rise. Igrayne started to follow. I tossed the blanket over her.

"Jordanus! Cover yourself Igrayne." Then "Stop knocking, Jordanus, you are heard."

I unbarred the door. Igrayne perforce covered herself. Merlyn was carrying my armor and acted my squire.

I had a secret reason for urging Igrayne to lie still. Well I know that the first shaft in the butt is what counts in the archery of Eros. I always hoped, despite that fact, that Arthur was conceived in the love of the morning rather than that of the night. I wanted to give those shafts every chance.

---

Igrayne joined us for breakfast. (With her convoluted coiffure redone.) We rode out on new palfreys leading the ones we had ridden in on the evening before. We reached our camp to learn that the Duke had been killed in combat.

That reversed the situation. Before, the rumor that I was after a man's wife had stiffened his forces and demoralized mine. Now it looked like a simple solution to everybody not personally involved. There are no simple solutions. Igrayne, however, was spurred by an unbleading belly.

She also was obliged by fealty. We were not corporations to ask loyalty and withhold it. If the Duchy of Tyntigayll came to me as dowry, every tower came with its old tenant. If it came by right of conquest, men who had fought for her honor would lose their lands. She owed them any effort she could honorably make to avoid that loss.

Igrayne plighted peace, fealty, and her troth in that order, if not quite at that speed. I told her I had sired Arthur and the bargain that was struck. She served me as Queen. She gave wise counsel always in my interest. She bore my heir and gave him into the hands of Sir Ector and his wife (and, indirectly, of Merlyn).

She gave me the joy of her bed and of her body. She never (except for a brief period after the birth of Arthur) did gainsay me that access. I had much joy of her for the few years that remained for me. And she, too, had pleasure in those joinings, if I know aught of woman.

But never again did I have the warm, wet, wild, welcome that she gave the semblance of that thrice-damned Duke.

The End

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