Chapter 110: The Elf's Work 2
Chapter 110: The Elf's Work 2
She might not have the nerve to swallow my semen, but watching that little tongue lapping away so diligently leaves me thinking.
If the scent turned sweet, did the taste follow suit?
Come to think of it, some dirty fantasy novel I read in my past life compared the flavor to fruit nectar, or something along those lines.
"Hoo, this really is a mess of drool now, isn't it?"
Seeing her slurp up the semen streaked across my stomach, not to mention licking it clean off both of my hands, maybe that sweet taste guess wasn't far off.
She spread her sticky fingers wide and showed me her palms.
If you isolated the act itself, it was a lewd display even a back-alley whore wouldn't stoop to,
but the giggling, playful way she showed me her hands made it seem almost innocent.
What woman would do this? No blowjob—just licking up semen that already spilled with her tongue.
The image of Lee Ha-rin diving straight into the bath to service me with her mouth surfaced, but her behavior falls well outside the bounds of normal, so she doesn't count.
Maybe my brain briefly went on strike, confronted with such a shockingly obscene sight layered with a slow, pleasant bliss.
"So, uh, what's it taste like?"
A question I'd been nursing in a corner of my mind tumbled out past my throat.
"Uh, like tree sap?"
At my question, her eyes wandered toward the table of their own accord.
The tea left sitting there, now cold. That was made from tree sap, after all—
'They say the taste of semen changes depending on what you eat, right? Your diet?'
That idle, insignificant thought drifted through a corner of my skull, inevitably dragging another idea in its wake.
If my cum tastes like sweet tree sap, what does hers taste like?
Last time, I was considerate of the Unfading Giant Tree's first time—we had a slow, gentle, remarkably tender session.
She went down on me and had her fun, so wouldn't it be fair if I used my mouth today?
I don't know what went through her head when she chose to lick up my semen.
Whether she saw it as a simple exchange of fluids, or if the beastkin have some custom of grooming with their tongues—it's not my business.
If I met her eyes and used my Authority, I could pick up fragments of her thoughts, but does any of that really matter right now?
"W-wait, hold on a second!"
I turned my whole body and buried my face between her thighs.
A deep breath drawn in with a sssip was sweet beyond belief.
I crawled forward as if squirming, wrapped my arms around both her legs, and nestled my face in—she flinched hard in surprise, grabbing my shoulders and head while bowing her own.
The feel of those supple, plump thighs pressing against both my cheeks.
She was clearly a slender elf beauty without an ounce of extra flesh,
so why did her skin feel so soft and plush, so full of substance?
Was it simply the nature of elven skin, which differed from human skin at a fundamental level?
The moment I began my deep philosophical inquiry into elven thighs, a flood of flustered emotion poured in from her.
It wasn't a kiss on the lips, or even a peck, nor was it a woman caressing a man's tool—of course she'd be flustered.
Because that's the limit of what she knows.
Because she's the woman, and the older one.
Because, well, she's the noona here.
No matter how casually she tried to toy with my body and touch me however she pleased, she needed actual knowledge to pull it off.
The sum total of her knowledge was stolen scraps of dirty talk, and her only real experience was what we shared last time.
I nudged aside the disheveled scrap of her clothing with my chin and wormed my way forward.
In an instant, her lower half was completely pinned beneath me, and she bent her back forward.
A thigh right in my face, her breasts resting against the back of my head.
It was the sort of situation any man in the world would envy.
I mean, in my old world, not this one.
In any case, the Unfading Giant Tree's rebellion—the one she'd so confidently launched by touching me and acting like my noona—fizzled out into nothing.
Because what could a noona or anyone else do when a man buried his face between her thighs and kept prodding her most sensitive spots with the tip of his nose?
If my semen carried a scent like sweet tree sap,
then her body seemed to carry the scent of sweet fruit.
It was tricky to pin down exactly,
but if I had to name it, it was a fragrance like something in the berry family.
"We, we haven't bathed yet, so if you smell me like that—"
Was it because she could still feel every heated breath against her as I took in her scent?
Her voice whispered into my ear, heavy with embarrassment.
These elven pointed ears are remarkably good at picking up even the quietest whisper against the back of the head.
I felt a moment of absurd admiration for their auditory specs before I simply opened my mouth.
"Didn't you do the same things to me, noona?"
"Kyaah!"
Perhaps the breath on her skin from speaking so directly—without even turning my head—was what overstimulated her,
because she couldn't muster a single comeback, only a single sharp yelp.
Which was fair, since if I moved my face even slightly, the tip of my nose would push right past the fabric of her panties.
On the outside, she wore traditional elven garments, but underneath, I could dimly make out modern white underwear.
Did traditional elven clothing lack underwear, or did she simply pick the modern ones for comfort's sake?
I placed a light kiss against her slightly damp panties.
"Why, why are you kissing me there?!"
"You kissed mine too, noona."
Last time, we'd had textbook, by-the-manual sex.
Kissing, wrapping ourselves around each other, rubbing our bodies together in a slow, intertwined, almost serpentine act.
It wasn't that it was bad or lacking in pleasure, but it was a little... plain.
Because I was filled with the urge to teach an innocent virgin who knew nothing of the world about all the different varieties of pleasure out there.
She appeared to be working up a counterargument, or maybe she'd simply accepted my logic, but either way, she fell silent.
So I just kept pressing my lips against her.
Over and over, until her white panties were soaked thick and sticky with something—I couldn't tell if it was my spit or her own fluids.
Still holding her thighs, I slid my hands upward and sent them toward her waist.
Though it goes without saying, the elastic waistband of her panties hadn't gotten wet.
Without even looking, I relied on touch alone, hooking my fingers in and pulling down—and a tightly sealed strip of pale white skin was revealed right before my eyes.
Snow-white, pure, and because of that, even more obscene.
Those words contradict each other, but what can I do? That's how it struck me.
I savored the sight of her skin flushing a soft pinkish red, and leaned in to kiss it again.
Maybe it was the sensation of my lips touching bare skin instead of fabric, but her waist twitched visibly, trembling as if jolted.
Not that she could escape anyway.
I wrapped my hand—the hand I'd been using to peel off her panties—around the Unfading Giant Tree's waist.
Getting smaller had shortened my arms too, but her waist was so slender it fit neatly even into these smaller hands and shorter arms, so it didn't matter.
My body smelled like tree sap, and hers smelled like mixed berries.
Our bodies were tangled together in pure depravity, but the fragrance in the air was utterly refreshing.
"Th-that's where I pee, I mean, so just—nnnn—"
As I kept kissing little by little, gently stimulating her, a flood of sweet-scented arousal gushed from between the tightly pressed seam of her flesh.
She'd licked my lower belly gently with her tongue while cleaning up my semen, but she never actually put my cock in her mouth.
I grabbed her just as she subtly tried to pull her hips backward,
and crawled upward over her bit by bit, pressing her down as if in an infantryman's crawl.
Past the pale gold fuzz, planting a kiss on her twitching white lower belly,
then climbing higher, pressing my lips this way and that across her soft, yielding breasts.
Finally, our eyes met, and just like last time, our bodies layered over each other.
But maybe she wanted to insist things were different this time,
because she bit down on her lips and spun her body with a quick flip.
The sensation of lying naked on a wooden floor is truly something else.
That idle thought evaporated the instant my gaze landed on the Unfading Giant Tree's body as she mounted me.
'An elf's body is... really something.'
Maybe my vocabulary fails me here, but the only thought that surfaced was just how incredible an elf's body was.
It wasn't that her breasts were astonishingly large, nor was she towering and willowy.
If I had to name it, it was her proportions.
A perfectly sculpted figure that, thanks to my limited vocabulary, I could only call statue-like.
Her slim waist and flat stomach seemed to shift just slightly with every breath, tensing up.
Her pale white belly and that charmingly innie belly button quivered subtly left and right as she settled into position.
Then, she seized my cock and aimed it precisely.
At her lower mouth, which was practically glazed over with her own sticky arousal.
'She's bold today.'
Maybe it was because this was our second time.
She'd flailed in a panic when I surprised her with cunnilingus in the middle of it all,
but today, it felt like she wanted to run the whole show from start to finish.
Just looking at the position confirmed it: we'd shifted from the missionary, where I'd held her in my arms and moved my hips,
to a cowgirl position with her bearing down on top of me.
Her slender waist swayed back and forth as if dancing a belly dance, and her taut little butt slowly descended.
A searing, constricting pressure that felt like a hand gripping tight at the very tip of my glans rushed over me.
She wasn't a virgin anymore, sure, but how accustomed to a man could a body become after experiencing it exactly once?
Her inner flesh clamped down mercilessly on my upright, pushing shaft, trying to squeeze it out as if it were some foreign object.
Slowly, slowly, the Unfading Giant Tree sank down onto me.
I wanted to reach out and touch those teary eyes of hers, but maybe she needed something to hold onto—she had both my hands pinned down, our fingers interlocked, as I watched her from below.
"It feels... good, right?"
Maybe the huge thing digging into her lower belly was a little uncomfortable, because her words tripped over themselves as she drew a deep, steadying breath and asked me.