The Dragonborn Hunts

A Pleasant Afternoon

“Well, that’s settled then,” Katja declared beaming. She felt as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. All she really needed to do for the next few days was maybe craft some arms and armor for Warmaiden’s to sell, and come up with an appropriate outfit to wear to the wedding next week. Oh, and she really ought to be sure Anders and Wyll had something decent to wear too, and… Cut that out! she rebuked herself sharply. The preparations for two weddings had her in a frenzy, and she just needed to take a breath and relax.

Wyll touched her elbow. “Nice outfit,” he remarked, giving her the sort of look with which a hungry saber cat might regard a wandering goat. “I was thinking, if all your chores are done for now, we might have a little picnic. It’s an awfully nice day…” Katja smiled up at him, dimpling.

“Why Wyll, that’s a great idea. Ellis, do you think you could throw together some things for us before the rush gets started?” She gave the Elf her best pretty-lady-asking-the-big-strong-man-for-a-teeny-tiny-favor look.

He eyed her coolly with his big, tip-tilted eyes. Then cracked a wry smile and said, “Sure. I’ll knock something together. Just give me about ten minutes.” Katja rewarded him with a brilliant smile that could have melted the main square in Windhelm. While Ellis prepared the food, she and Wyll gathered the other items they’d need.

“Where are we going?” Katja asked him sweetly.

“Down by the river, I think,” he replied. “You’d better bring your bow.”

“Oh, good point,” she replied. It’d been ages since she’d killed anything, and she wouldn’t mind a little exercise. There were usually mudcrabs down along the White River shore, and frequently ogres as well. Once you’d killed whatever attacked you immediately on arrival, you could usually count on at least a few hours of peace and quiet in the immediate area.

After some consideration Katja replaced her laced bodice with the top to her ebony armor, which still looked pretty sexy but offered a lot more protection. She left the snug trousers and boots as is, and slung her best bow along with a plentiful quiver of arrows across her back. For headgear, she wore a handsome jeweled circlet she’d enchanted to enhance her archery skills – though she scarcely needed it any more.

Wyll was waiting for her at their table when she returned downstairs, and a covered basket with a long leather strap for a carrying handle was sitting on the table in front of him. Breakfast had been quite a while ago, and Katja found herself drawn to the basket. “Ooh, what’s in there?” she asked eagerly. He waved her away.

“Wait and see. Let’s be surprised. I’ve got a couple of bedrolls in my pack, so we’ll have something to sit on,” he added.

Giving him a mock glare for balking her, Katja took Wyll’s arm as he slung the strap of the basket over his shoulder, and the two of them strolled out the back doors of the Suite onto the deck. What a glorious day it was, warm sunshine beating down out of a clear sky. Though the Whiterun area had a pleasant climate, days like this were rare at any season.

They went down the deck’s rear steps and walked down a grassy slope toward the banks of the White River. Wyll touched her elbow and pointed, before unslinging his Ripper Sword. Sure enough, an ogre was approaching them with hostile intent. These curiously lumpy creatures, considerably larger than Katja but smaller than Wyll, were apparently sentient and usually dressed in ebony armor – though how they came by it was anybody’s guess. They were yet another not-quite-human denizen of Skyrim that always attacked humans on sight, making any kind of rapprochement impossible.

Katja had her bow drawn and an arrow flying toward the beastie before it had gotten within striking distance of them. It staggered, badly hurt, and as she readied another arrow Wyll charged it and hacked off its head. That sword of his was downright scary. They left the ogre lying. Its valuables could be collected on their way back, but they didn’t want to be lugging anything extra at the moment. Katja retrieved her arrow, though.

They moved along the riverbank for some distance to the north and east after reaching the shore, wanting to get well out of view of the Suite’s deck. They killed four mudcrabs along the way, Katja easily picking them off from a distance. Then, after a walk ’round to assure themselves that all of the hostile wildlife had been temporarily routed, they put their bedrolls down on a sandy beach beside a slight bend in the river where a shallow pool formed. The water was sparkling, and myriad little brightly-colored fish swam in it. These were periodically chased by much-larger salmon. If they hadn’t brought food with them, they could have made a fire and eaten lunch right out of the river.

The brief hike, coupled with the invigorating life-or-death fight with the ogre, had roused their appetites. All of them; but first, what was in the basket? Wyll set it on the end of his bedroll and took off the lid, then began removing items one at a time. On top was a smallish tablecloth, which he spread on the sand between the bedrolls. Next came a couple of plates and some cutlery. Then finally Wyll burrowed down to the layer with food in it.

Ellis had made them a couple of fresh Dragonbites, with cold sliced chicken, cheese and tomatoes. There was a large paper packet of fresh potato chips, and a sort of salad made with shredded cabbage in a sauce somewhat similar to Lane’s “special sauce,” but apparently without any tomato or pickled vegetables in it. There was also a bunch of fresh grapes, slightly chilled, and a couple of honey-nut treats right down near the bottom – as well as a couple of napkins.

Katja’s delight had increased as each item appeared. The idea of an elegant spread prepared just for them, to be eaten in this beautiful wilderness, had a strong appeal. As she reached for a Dragonbite, Wyll put a hand on her wrist and held her gaze. His friendly, sky-blue eyes somehow contrived to be smoldering as he said softly, “You know, I only got you out here so I could have my way with you…”

Katja returned his look with interest. “What a coincidence,” she said with a slight smile. “But first, food!” He sighed and removed his hand, letting her load her plate with food from the array on the tablecloth. They uncorked a couple of chilled bottles of mead, which had rested near the grapes, and tucked into the delicious repast.

Katja glanced at Wyll’s crotch and saw that his hard-on was subsiding as they ate. She sighed slightly, then sank her teeth into another bite of food. Wyll was so tempting, but she knew he would be ready again before long. And freshly prepared picnics complete with perfectly chilled drinks would not keep. When they’d eaten their fill and drained the mead bottles they tucked everything back into the basket, leaving the grapes out to be nibbled at leisure.

Now that the picnic was concluded they pulled the bedrolls closer together and sat side by side, gazing out over the sparkling waters of the river and admiring the fish as they chased each other around the pool. The sating of their appetites for food and drink had temporarily blunted their appetites for each other. But it was so pleasant just to sit here quietly, alone together in the wilderness, with warm sunshine and gentle breezes caressing them.

In a while, after checking the area to make sure no new threats had cropped up, Katja removed her breastplate. Wyll took his off, as well. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her deeply. They sat necking for a few minutes, enjoying each other’s touch, their desire growing hotter and hotter. Wyll slipped a hand up under her loose shirt and cupped a breast, squeezing gently and brushing his thumb across the nipple. Katja murmured “Ooh!” and put her hand down to stroke his cock where it pressed hard against the leg of his trousers.

Next he sat and helped her pull off her boots, removing his own as well. Their toes dipped into the soft, cool sand. Wyll began working at the waistband of her snug-fitting trousers and got them open, finding she was not wearing underdrawers beneath them. While kissing her, he slipped his hand down inside and inserted a couple of fingers into her vestibule. He found it hot, wet, and slippery. Mmm.

She returned the favor, opening his pants to set that eager cock free from its confinement. It leapt out, eager to be stroked, and she squeezed it firmly. By now they were reclining on the bedrolls, and Wyll had pushed Katja’s shirt all the way up to her collarbone, exposing her breasts. They writhed and rubbed together, building to a fever pitch of excitement.

Finally, panting, they broke apart long enough to pull the rest of their clothing off. Then, completely nude, they pressed their bodies together again. Katja bent her knees, spreading her thighs wide, and pulled Wyll to her – not so much beckoning him inside as dragging him in the door. He entered her, his huge cock pressing into her tight wetness, going all the way in as she gave a faint shriek like a very small mouse getting stepped on by a very large draft horse.

The meal earlier had taken just enough of the edge off Wyll’s lust that he was able to prolong their lovemaking. They tried to stay on the bedrolls as much as possible, but despite their best efforts the sand was churned up for feet in every direction, the bedrolls rumpled and pushed out of position as they enjoyed the beautiful afternoon to the utmost. Katja had come half a dozen times before, as was often the case with them, they finished up with her kneeling while Wyll thrust into her from behind.

Wyll had come to find this position the one he was least able to resist, when trying to forestall his own climax. Whether it was Kat’s liking for it, or his own association with making love to her in this way, the excitement almost always became too much to bear. With a groan he pumped his seed into her, musing that it was now likely live seed and not just seminal fluid. He’d had his amulet off for a while.

Katja’s own latest climax was gripping him spasmodically as he shot his load, and the two of them collapsed to lie flat on the bedrolls before rolling over to lie, spooning, on their sides. “Oh, Wyll,” she breathed, panting. When they’d had time for their heartbeats to return to normal, they both realized that not only were they sticky in several places, but sand seemed to have gotten everywhere.

“Are you up for an icy dip, my love?” Katja asked playfully, standing and darting down to the pool. “I thought maybe we could bring back some salmon for Lane to cook,” she suggested, standing there in water up to her waist. Wyll lay back on the sandy bedroll, admiring her as she dunked to rinse off sand and body fluids, the cold water screwing her nipples up like fingertips. Then he admitted that she was right, and there was no help for it. They couldn’t walk back to the Suite naked, and he couldn’t put his clothes back on over the top of the sand that was adhering to him in some rather tender places.

Shuddering a bit as he stepped into the chill water, Wyll joined Kat in the pool. He sat to sluice off the sand and stickiness, then stood – his own nipples painfully erect and his genitals shriveled – and worked cooperatively with Kat to herd the pool’s small collection of fish into her lightning-quick hands. She fetched the tablecloth out of the picnic basket and caught it by four corners to form a sack, into which she tossed each fish as she caught it. She took the little ones, used in alchemy, as well as the large salmon.

When the pool was cleaned out Katja dipped her “sack” all the way into the water, tying the ends tight on its wriggling contents, and hung it on a bush at the riverside before stepping out. She picked up one of the bedrolls and carefully shook the sand off of it, then sat down on the now-clean surface and toweled herself off with a napkin before putting her clothing back on.

Wyll followed her lead, and soon both of them were dressed and armored again and ready for the walk back to the Suite. They stopped at the corpse of the ogre to relieve it of its armor and weapons, then walked up onto the deck and were shortly back inside the Suite. Lane, who’d long since returned from his expedition, was delighted to receive the bundle of fish. He loosened the ends and dropped it, fish and all, into a washtub full of cold water to keep Katja’s catch alive longer. The little ones would be plucked out and dried, later.

Katja and Wyll went into the hot pool for a while, completing the bath they’d taken in the river and getting warmed up again. “I probably ought to do a little crafting,” she said thoughtfully. “Do you want to help?”

“Sure,” he replied with a grin. “I’ve been getting better and better lately. Since I have a smithy in my bedroom, it’s pretty convenient.” After a quick trip upstairs to change clothes, she joined him in the basement.

78

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