Legend of Ransera

The hands upon her hips were familiar, but he figured it would be better to wait until they weren't astride a camel who might not like him at all before doing anything untoward. In any case, he wouldn't say so, but it felt nice just to learn to roll with the camel's gait and feel her body there for hours.

He took in everything she said, semblance helping to fill in meaning wherever his dubious mastery of the Vastian language fell short. If he were to find himself unable to escape the desert by his normal abnormal means, he figured he would have to figure out how to find an oasis first and foremost. There he could find water, cacti that he knew to be safe to eat, and shelter from the hammer of sunlight that only relented at the end of the day.

Unhindered, he could mask his own passing rather well, and see through the heatwaves and other optical illusions, even suss what was edible. But magic tricks were only tools, and he had to know how to survive without them because any tool could be taken away.

His answer was slow in coming. He could still feel the warmth of her against his lap, but...

"I can't feel parts of my legs," he admitted. "So I can continue or not as you prefer." He laughed, voice a little rough for not speaking much and likely needing a pull from his water skin. "You'll have to massage feeling back into me whenever we stop."

That could certainly be a pleasant thing to look forward to. He didn't know how sore he would be; while he didn't often ride horses in Karnor, he was rather active all the same. But even if he wasn't sore on the morrow, he would probably still demand 'therapeutic massage.'

"Still my favorite means of transportation," he said of the portal as the camel walked them through to the promised oasis.

It always felt a little strange to him being transported by someone else's will. It all flowed when it was his own doing; here and now, it almost felt as though his ears would pop as he sensed the change in the threads of reality as he was not touching them. But a little disorientation wasn't a bad thing; it helped him prepare for when it might happen in a less controlled situation.

Aurin wondered if there were fish in the oasis as the name suggested. If so, had her people carried them in vessels across the sands to farm or had there been a lake here in ages long past, before the breaking of the world?

He groaned as he swung his leg over and slid off of the camel's back, thankfully without molestation from said camel. If he whined, it was because he had an audience. If there had been danger, he would have moved quickly and quietly, without complaint.

"Oh, I won't be wandering far," he promised, and helped her unload.

But he did listen to the didactic litany as they worked, nodding and making noises of understanding here and there. Some of it he would have done anyway, logical extensions of how he had kept himself alive in temperate and subtropical forests at other points in his career of misadventure. The stiffness gradually receded a bit, though he was still sore, and would be on the morrow most likely.

He helped set up camp, as well, knowing that once they got frisky, they wouldn't want to do the work. Aurin could plan ahead.

As he fetched water, he resisted the urge to dunk his head. When water was scarce, one didn't want to befoul it. If they planned to camp long, he would sand bathe. But for now...

He smirked when she mentioned sleeping in a tent.

"I didn't know you planned to sleep." The smirk calculated, however. "I'm ready when you are, but you should know I won't be much help afterward." He barked a laugh, knowing himself too well. Of course, at this point, he knew the lay of the land well enough they needn't sleep out here at all, though it would be a nice change if she knew how to keep scorpions and such at bay.

Aurin accepted her hand down, though he didn't put his weight on her. It was more to prevent a surprise tumble than anything else. He gave her hand a little squeeze before releasing it, and then he did waddle around for a moment before helping with some of the setting up that was easier with four hands.

Eventually, he let her set him down on the tarp. There was a point where his help was hindering, as she liked everything a certain way. Watching, listening, learning, he busied his body with stretching. Between that and drinking water, he ought not to ache too much when they fucked later, and if he remembered to stretch and drink water after that, he might not be as terribly sore on the morrow.

The tarp gave him a modicum of security. Tiny little feet would sound more clearly on it than upon sand, sounding alarums for him. It was similar to laying noisy things upon surfaces at points of ingress to wake him up should someone try to get in.

As she laid nosegays around him, he laughed. He could intuit the utility of such things out here, but it still seemed like a lovestruck suitor sprinkling rose petals upon a bed. When she joined him, clearly intending to make good on the promise of a massage, he loosened his pants and slid them down. Tossing them into the tent, he smirked.

He could feel the chill upon his skin, but that only made her hands the warmer by comparison. As her hands touched his ankles, he quickly removed the rest of his clothes and threw them after his pants. His skin had to be protected from the sun, but it was made for moonlight. The light of the fire preserved the fire in his hair even as the moon tried to leach it away.

Laying back like he was the king of the Luxium and this was his due, he let her knead moans out of him.

At other times, their sex had been more competitive. Now, however, his body ached in ways that had nothing to do with his sex and so he was content to allow her to spoil him as if he were some poncy elf prince. If certain parts of his body responded to specific attention, well, he was a red-blooded human man. But he could have been sated by a massage of his feet and the sore bits, too. He contained multitudes like that.

Naked in the moonlight, receiving attention, he was content.

But then his stomach began to growl and he knew she would tease the one hunger in order to sate the other. Solunarians and their worship of Hunger!

"It isn't that cold," he said wryly. "Take those clothes off. We both know why you invited me out here..."

Better to take care of that, have their supper, and perhaps slip back to her place to sleep. At least there he was fairly certain that if he woke up to take a piss, he wasn't going to step on some scorpion and die a painful death.

Anyway, she had massaged him, and he could massage her insides. That was the sort of massage he was good at.

Hazel eyes, shadowed by the gathering night, watched her little show with amusement and appreciation.

"Much better," he affirmed, and his hands reached for her hips.

This wouldn't be the first time he sought pleasure so he could ignore pain. Sometimes pain and pleasure were two sides of the same coin. Sometimes he would rather feel pain than nothing at all.

The whole day had been rather like foreplay, their bodies close, rocking to the rhythm of their noble steed's gait, and then the massage in such a picturesque place. They were young and healthy, and it didn't take long to sate one desire and then move onto the next.

Both of them had experience enough that mutual pleasure with a new partner was not impossible, and this was not their first time in the saddle together. Little details recalled from previous couplings together came back into play, and Aurin even spent the night. The cold of the desert forced closeness under the blankets, and there was no better way to break a fast than morning sex.

If all learning had been so useful, and then underlined with pleasure, he might have become a scholar.

All in all, he thought, a successful jaunt into the desert.