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Lover's ShadowChapter 13 free porn video
I was dripping. That was unsurprising: even after a shower I was still dripping Morgan’s cum. However, now, I was dripping from the fresh excitement of Mane and Lucinda’s fucking shared through the web. My hands drifted between my tits and cunt.
I was reminded of my first experience of the web. One night, making boundary offerings as a child, I had connected and found myself experiencing strong echos of all Oak leaf’s lust.
Morgan, beside me, was distracted with excitement warring with fear. I did not understand his fear.
Then, suddenly, as if Lucinda had thrown a switch, it was all gone. One moment, raging lust, the next moment, all I felt was a faint feeling of Lucinda and overpowering nausea from the sudden shift. For the second time that day, I was overcome by vomiting, losing lunch out the passenger’s window.
“Are you okay?” Morgan asked.
“Yes. It was just so sudden. Unnatural. Stopped all at once.”
“I think that is probably for the best. I suspect we will find when we arrive that Mane has been consumed.
“I don’t know if connecting to that through a web would be physically dangerous for a third party, but having watched a consumption without a web connection, I doubt anyone would want to live even an echo,” he said.
“Except the demon of course.”
“If she has consumed Mane, I think we will find Lucinda sad and withdrawn. In the moment, there is joy. Badger tried to help her find and remember that. After, though, there is the loss of your deepest love.”
“I thought demons spent months, sometimes years with their mates. I expected Mane to be with us throughout the current emergency.”
“I did too. Perhaps I’m wrong; perhaps they were just getting to know each other and somehow you connected very deeply.”
Morgan pulled back onto the road and proceeded towards the clearing.
We stopped where we had previously parked. I unloaded a number of blankets we had acquired at the Cow and Crown, and we proceeded through the forest.
We arrived at the clearing. Lucinda set hunched, arms curled protectively around herself. Mane’s body lay to the side. She had crossed his arms over his chest. If I didn’t know better, I would estimate Mane’s age at closer to sixty than the forty-eight that Elk Unstoppable had reported. Even so, in death, his face was relaxed, the stress lines gone.
Morgan went to Lucinda, crouched behind her and held her. The tension in her shoulders relaxed slightly, but she did not uncurl or relax into his touch.
I stood to the side. I felt awkward: Lucinda had just killed someone under my charge. Soon I would need to connect with her as a lover. I didn’t know her well enough to provide comfort. For that matter, I knew Mane far better than Lucinda, and my sympathy lay with him.
“What happened?” Morgan asked.
“He was done. He jumped at the opportunity to find closure. Things were not easy for him as a defense manager. He cared so much, but things got out of hand and he lost control. He didn’t know where to turn for help this past year.
“As people started dying, the pressure increased. I think he jumped at the opportunity to leave at a point when he believed he was helping, he could have hope, but where there was no chance he could see failure if our hope is misplaced.”
“But he could have helped us more. He could have helped the community heal,” I said.
“I know. At some level he knew. However, this is what he wanted, far more than anything: hope without the possibility of disappointment. Ashley, he has faced a lot of disappointment.”
She continued, “That’s always sad, but in this case, such small changes would have been enough. If he’d just sought help—if he’d just had the self-confidence to be weak, none of this would have happened.”
“Yah! I had much the same impression.”
She said, “He was beginning to hear you. I think had things worked out differently, you could have helped him become the defense manager we wish he had been.”
“I don’t mean this to sound negative; I just don’t understand you. You would hope for strong defense managers?”
“I always wish the best for my mates; I always work to help them be strong. Beyond that, yes, I would see you stand strong against the shadows.”
“But don’t you depend on our weakness for your survival?”
“I think we’re in no danger of defense managers strong enough that I cannot find a mate. However, as I mentioned earlier, I’m finding people are seeking me from time to time even knowing the risks; a strong defense manager will not stop that. My sympathy and connection lie much more strongly with the communities and people where my mates lived over the years than with the shadows.”
Morgan asked, “How are you doing, Lucinda?”
“Not well. This part is always bad, but such a short time!”
“Doesn’t that make it easier?” I asked.
“No, the depth of love and connection are instant. When I can spend months or a year with someone, I feel like we have built something together. I’ve had an opportunity to share some of myself. I’ve had an opportunity to go beyond love and get to know them. There was none of that here.”
Being a demon bride didn’t sound like much fun.
“What can we do to help?” Morgan asked. “I do not mean to be insensitive, but we have little time.”
“With the mate bond so recent, I feel Mane’s concern for Passion Mill very strongly.” That was a relief: with Mane’s passing I was worried that she might not choose to help us.
Although, as I thought about it, I realized we still couldn’t be sure Lucinda would help. Morgan said that by all accounts demons were honest with their mates. What about their honesty with the rest of us?
“I think as Ashley and I spend time together, I will be able to regroup. By the time we’re able to connect as lovers, I’ll be ready to put my full effort to Passion Mill,” she said. With an effort, she uncurled her body. Her arms were at her sides, although her movements were stiff and controlled rather than natural and flowing.
She motioned me over. We spread the blankets and sat next to each other.
“Why is joining as my lover important enough that you’d do it now,” I asked.
“Would you work to fight the shadows with someone you wouldn’t fuck?”
“Sure. I work with my mother and father regularly at some level. There have been other reasons from time to time. A few people only like boys. Sometimes I’ve been on a team with someone who just didn’t have sexual chemistry with me.”
“But there would have to be a reason? What if they just generally weren’t comfortable with you?”
“I think that would tend to get in the way of shining in the light of passion.”
“If we don’t fuck, will it be because you’re uncomfortable with me? Or perhaps uncomfortable with demons?”
“Oh.” There really wasn’t a lot more to say. I was uncomfortable and she was right: if positions were reversed, this discomfort would get in the way of standing strong in the light of passion together.
“Let us talk it through. Do you know why you’re uncomfortable with a demon?”
“I think it’s fairly obvious.”
“Say it, please.”
“Specifically, you just killed someone I’ve been growing to know. More generally, you kill; I save.”
“Okay, and yet you said you’d meet me as a lover. Are you going to walk away from that, or are you going to meet me with strength and vulnerability?”
That was the question. If I was going to meet her as a lover, I needed to figure out some way to approach her. It was more complex than I had described. I brought Mane to her. I recognized that he’d gotten more of what he wished for from Lucinda than I could possibly offer him.
The big question came down to whether I could connect with someone who consumed humans to live. She was not malicious; she was simply true to her nature. At one level, we’re animals; I suppose it is natural for us to be someone’s food. At another, prey to predator is not lover’s language.
Perhaps using lover’s language was the answer: just open and try to meet her as a lover—try to connect. “You haven’t really talked about how you’re feeling. Would you help me try and understand you?” I said.
“Approaching Mane was really hard. He had a lot of sadness and disappointment. It hurt when all I had to offer was an end.”
She continued, “I’m sad and frustrated that I connect deeply and yet am always apart. I can never be in a community. Your reaction, as strong as it is, is fairly moderate. Being a demon is filled with pain, loss and rejection.”
Through her words and through something deeper I felt her pain—the cry of a lover desiring to be cherished and accepted facing loss and rejection. My arm reached out almost without thought and drew her too me. “I hear you.”
She snuggled against me. I began to pet her. “I can feel your pain. How is that?”
She stiffened in my arms. “I don’t think you’re going to like the answer.” She was afraid, bracing for rejection. “Part of what I took from Mane were his web connections. I’m part of Passion Mill, although we’re too far away for that to matter. I can also touch you.”
She went on hurriedly, “It’s just a web connection. I’m very good at web magic, but it’s not a mate’s bond. You are entirely safe.”
It sounds strange, but the web connection itself made it possible to approach her revelation with comfort. I was instinctive enough as a lover and mother to respond to fear—even Lucinda’s fear—with comfort. So I found myself holding her to me, reassuring her before I had a chance to be uncomfortable that I had a strong web connection to a demon. “Understanding your pain makes accepting you easier.”
“I’m glad.”
If I relaxed into the moment, I could do this. I began to focus on the sensations as we nuzzled against each other. She was happy and relieved. She enjoyed my touch. I enjoyed hers.
She smelled of sweat and forest with a hint of sex and her excitement. As I held my nose against her hair, I decided that her underlying musk was appealing. We lay down, face-to-face, as our hands continued their journey.
She hugged me. “We will put our strength behind finding a solution for Passion Mill. I think we have a very good chance.”
“Yes, let’s bring a purpose to Mane’s sacrifice.”
“I know what you mean, and let us do that: he would be honored. But for Mane and for me, our joining—his sacrifice—already have purpose. We found love; there is no greater.” I heard the conviction in her words and felt her happiness as she spoke of the love they shared.
Her hands ran across my back, strong and firm. I relaxed. “Thank you for your trust,” she said. “I know it’s not easy.
“Ashley, you are entirely safe no matter how much you open to me. You have been hit harder by shadow exposure than you might guess. I could take you as my mate, but I do not have that death wish. I think we both know who would survive such an experience.
“Even so, taking you is tempting. It would simplify the problem of Passion Mill: with our strength combined and no barriers between us, I’m sure the shadows would be no match. However, while you would eventually choose life, I think the pain of condemning someone as dear as we would become would break you. If not break, severely wound.”
“I can well imagine.” Struggling with judging Mane and then offering him to Lucinda had been quite enough pain. Some might find her frank discussion of mating me uncomfortable. She had judged me well though: her realization that mating me would not be in her interest did far more to reassure me than any assurance of good behavior she might offer.
She continued, “However, I do want to warn you that as we grow closer you’ll open to me more than you might guess. I can read a lot from a potential mate; I don’t want to hide that.” I nodded; I had feared as much.
Throughout this, we continued to explore each other, petting flanks and backs, nuzzling, rejoicing in being held.
Tentatively, I brushed my lips against hers. She responded softly, trailing her mouth along my cheek and back to my lips. This time, our lips met and our tongues danced. She reached to cup my right tit; she held its heft against her hand.
“Beautiful,” she said stroking my tit. Hesitantly, I reached to place my hand against her tit. It was nice—large and soft but well supported. I imagined pillowing my head against her tits, relaxing as I took comfort.
“Your enjoyment is appreciated,” I said. “Yours are a delight as well.”
We continued, our explorations taking on a decidedly sexual tone. She had begun to tease me, hands dancing across my thighs, briefly brushing against my cunt hair. I sniffed, realizing that we were both beginning to smell excited. “O, honey,” she said. “It’s not just Passion Mill. You’re torn apart inside.
“Ashley from Shepherd’s Crook? O you poor, complicated lady creature. I was right there’s growth here to be had.”
I stiffened. “I’m not ready ... but you can probably sense it all, can’t you. That would be the kind of vulnerability to understand in a mate.”
“I can. Relax, I know everything; you don’t need to tell the story. I can help,” she said softly. I was trying not to pull away. I felt her concern and care, lust, and an eagerness I could not place.
“Yes, I can help,” she said, her voice gaining a new intensity. “O, little Shepherd Girl, this changes everything. Lady Ashley Third for Oak Leaf would break herself rather than be consumed. O, but what of Ashley from Shepherd’s Crook, given an opportunity to sacrifice for the flock? What a mate you can make! O, yes, I will enjoy this!
“Your safe word is radish. Run while you still can, Shepherd Girl. I’ll even give you a head start.” With that, she stood.
For a moment, I lay stunned, fear coursing through me. How could love and connection turn to threat so fast? I had to get away to save myself. How could I have chosen such vulnerability only to be so wrong. I jumped to my feet and began to run. I didn’t stop to think and just took off, deeper into the forest.
Lianne
- 04.03.2020
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