Chapter 2

Ashur woke in an unfamiliar room with an unfamiliar weight on his chest. The room part wasn’t unusual. He hadn’t quite gotten used to his own room in this timeless place yet, but the feeling of a warm body pressed against his left side was mildly startling until he remembered the previous night.

After his first explosive climax, they had subsumed themselves in each other’s bodies; holding on to one another tightly as they each came again and again. Every peak had been a cathartic release of the loss they had both experienced and they weathered the ebbs and tides of passionate sorrow together.

Eventually, spent both physically and emotionally, the two had curled up with Mera tucked under Ashur’s chin. She had buried her face into his chest and softly cried one more time as he held her. His own final few tears wet the pillow of her bed and they had fallen into dreamless slumber like that.

He looked down at the top of her head where it rested on his chest and saw the moment that his change in breathing woke her.

“Good morning,” he rumbled. Her head jerked slightly as her own sleepy brain caught up with their present circumstances.

Ashur chuckled when her head tilted up to him and her cerulean eyes flashed a deep royal purple and then back again; a soft pink settling into the changing centers of her irises. Slowly, as if she was afraid that this was a dream, Mera raised her hand to his face and touched his cheek and lips. Caressing them, she regarded him as though trying to find something. Whatever it was, she found it with a small nod and climbed on top of him. With her hips straddling his waist, she leaned down and kissed him.

“Thank you for last night,” she told him. “I don’t think I ever really took the chance to properly mourn for them. I guess I thought that if I did, it would be the first step to madness.”

She moved down a few inches and rested her head against his chest once more. He breathed in deeply to watch her rise and fall and, as he did, her soft floral scent entered his nostrils. Inhaling a second time to draw more of her in, he wrapped his arms around her.

They must have slept again because he was startled to feel her sit up. She brushed hair from her eyes and leaned back to stretch. With her arms reaching to the ceiling he could see her body fully now. In their feverish lovemaking the night before, they had not taken the time to explore each other in the darkened room. Sliding from one position to another, each had been focused on their own pain and release for much else.

Now, Ashur marveled at the velvet of her azure skin. Raised markings that looked suspiciously like the writing on the bookcases and platform above them ran along her ribs and sides.

Putting his curiosity aside, he reached for her hips. Unwilling to interrupt her stretch but unable to stop himself, he caressed the tops of her thighs before reaching around behind her to cup the firm globes of her ass. He waited until she had released the stretch before giving each cheek a squeeze. 

Mera smiled down at him and wriggled her hips. She slid down and rubbed the lips of her sex against his rapidly hardening cock. Slowly, she gyrated on him, coating him in her fluids.

“It’s been so long,” she purred. Raising her hands up through her hair, she worked herself back and forth along his length and then, with a tilt of her hips, nudged the head of his penis inside her. She slid downwards toward his feet and he felt himself slide into her. She went slowly; every inch teasing her own body. When she felt the entirety of his length filling her, she stopped.

“Ohh… That’s nice…,” Mera groaned. At first, it looked as though she was going to start moving, but when she brought her arms down, she placed them on either side of his head, leaned forward and kissed him.

It was leisurely. Having spent so much of themselves the night before, he was as happy as she was to take it slow. He wrapped his arms around her, bringing one hand up to cup the back of her head. The other made light strokes up and down her bare back. She moaned into his mouth with the caress and settled more of her weight upon him.

Soon the stimulation was too much for them and Ashur began to clench is hips in a miniscule thrusting motion. Mera took the hint and started gyrating once more. As her speed increased, she sat upright and he slid his hands along her body to cup her breasts. Using his thumbs to brush her nipples, he gently kneaded them until she covered his hands with hers and directed him to squeeze harder. He did and she made a sound that was between a growl and a grunt.

By now her skin and eyes had more pink than blue and he watched, fascinated, as waves of the two colors washed back and forth across her body. By the rapidity of the changes, he thought she must be getting close so he grabbed her waist and thrust up into her; lifting her from the bed.

“More,” she demanded. “I need more!”

Tucking her right leg, she shifted her weight to that side. Rolling onto her back, she pulled him with her; doing her best to keep him inside her soaking slit. He settled onto his knees between her thighs and pumped in and out of her. She raised her legs and hooked them around his hips to draw him deeper.

Ashur grunted as his balls slapped her ass time and again. Feeling the familiar tingle in his scrotum, he knew that he was going to come soon and increased his rhythm. She must have felt his cock swelling because she grabbed the back of his neck with both hands and pulled her body up into him without disrupting the pace.

“Yes! Yes! Oh, please! Yes! Cum in me! Fill me!” she cried in his ear. Her arms locked up and her body shook uncontrollably as orgasm after orgasm crashed through her as fast as the shifting colors in her skin.

Her pleading voice and the sudden vibrating clench of her around his manhood were all it took to set Ashur off. His pelvis stuttered for a moment before shoving hers into the bed as he came. His cock swelled repeatedly which set Mera off into another series of climaxes.

When they finally released her, her arms let loose and she fell back to the bed. With her legs still wrapped around him, he collapsed; leaning most of his weight on one arm in a last-second effort not to crush her.

While their breathing slowed, his softening member retreated from her vagina and lay along her lips. The final drips from the end of his cock mixed with the combined fluids slipping from her folds.

Resting his head on the softness of her breast, he finally regained the energy to push himself up.

“That…was amazing,” he told her.

She reached up to pull strands of sweat-soaked hair from her face. With her other hand, she held his face. Her look was unreadable, but she nodded and replied, “Yes.”

When he had rested enough to pull himself from between her legs, he rolled over onto his back and she resumed her position on his side with her head on his chest. He held the hand she laid there and stroked her back with the other until they both fell asleep again.

…

The need to empty his bladder woke him up and he wondered how long they had slept this time. Mera was still asleep so he did his best to slide out from under her without disturbing the slumbering woman.

Ashur slipped into the bathroom and, after taking care of necessary business, sat on the edge of the tub to start the water shower. While the water was warming, he began to wonder what their night of passion meant for each of them. Obviously, they had both needed the emotional release and mutual comfort, but what about this morning? She had initiated the sex when they woke up, but he knew better than to assume her bed would be open to him whenever he wanted. He was certain that this morning’s session was a natural follow up to last night’s intimacy and so wouldn’t press for more unless she gave him a clear go-ahead to do so. He had seen a hint of her powers and anything that seemed like pressure without her consent might just well end up with him back in a dirt cave…or worse.

Once Ashur had cleaned up, he returned to Mera’s bedroom. He didn’t think it would be wise to have her wake up alone if he wanted to stay in her good graces. Rather than lying down beside her again, he sat on the edge of the bed and watched her sleep. Her face was serene and calm and he enjoyed looking at it, but his earlier mental conundrums kept his own brow furrowed.

His movement must have disturbed her sleep. Less than two minutes after he had taken a seat, she rolled onto her back and languidly stretched. When she was done, she turned onto her side facing him.

“Stop thinking so hard,” she said with a smile. Realizing his face was still a mask of introspection, he immediately smoothed his features into something more positive. His problem could wait and he remembered his promise to make her as happy as possible before she sent him back. Ashur smiled back at her.

“I was going to ask what you want for breakfast, but I think it’s a bit too late for that.” He was still trying to puzzle out how to keep track of time when the primary illumination of this place was the glow from the walls, but he knew that right now, they were at their brightest meaning that it had to be past noon.

She chuckled a bit and started to rise. Suddenly her eyes opened wide and she jumped from the bed and raced for the bathroom. Standing and heading for the common area, he laughed to himself. There was nothing worse than a full bladder telling you that you had waited too long.

Confident that she would not be taking him anywhere else today on the “Library Tour”, he started to put together a simple ploughman’s lunch on one platter. After last night, separate plates seemed a little silly for a meal like this.

The simple unheated fare proved to be a good plan when Ashur heard shower sounds in the bathroom. He sat quietly, nibbling occasionally, and read the book he had tried to start twice now. After half an hour, his hostess joined him; clothed in a different cream-colored dress. Her eyes lit up at the food and she sat down across from him at the table.

“Thank you,” she hummed. Wanting to let her enjoy the first few bites, Ashur held off until it seemed she had sated the worst of her hunger before eating himself. They both proved to be hungry and the plate was emptied in short order.

Once they both sat back in their chairs, Ashur decided he had better get everything out in the open to head off any misunderstandings.

“About last night,” he started, “I just wanted you to know that I really enjoyed and appreciated it.” He trailed off, not really knowing where to go next. Mera looked at him with a small smile. It appeared she was going to let him flounder a bit.

“I’m not the sort to expect a woman to let me into her bed just because we had one tumble. I learned that lesson the hard way a long time ago. I just…uh…umm…well, shit.” He looked at her helplessly. What was it about this woman that threw him off so?

Laughing cobalt eyes pinned him down for several moments before she took pity on him and responded.

“Barbarian, I don’t expect anything from and will cede nothing to you. If longevity teaches you one thing, it’s that sex is wonderful for a great many things, but expectations of that sort are not among them. I thoroughly enjoyed last night and this morning and, if the mood strikes me, may ask for more. As it stands, I think we can return you to your own room for the foreseeable future.”

The soldier breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed. Her reaction was better than some he had faced over the years. Picking up the dirty plate, he stood and headed into the kitchen. Her good mood gave him the courage to ask about something that he had noticed earlier.

“Can I ask about the markings? On your skin?” The runes along her ribs and side had not been the only ones on her. Running along her spine and around her ankles, more of the writing was evident as raised bumps and ridges.

Mera’s eyes widened a little and then narrowed at him in concentration as if trying to solve a puzzle that only she could see. He wasn’t sure what the puzzle might be but waited patiently until she stood up and held out her hand to him.

“I think I can answer that question better upstairs.” Taking his hand, she led him out to the platform that had brought them down from the main level.

“The writing you see on the lift,” she began, pointing down at the floor,” is the language of the first peoples. When the first five races were created, we were separated across the globe. It was speculated that this was so we could grow and develop in our own ways, though that has never been confirmed. Eventually our cultures grew large enough in population and technology that we encountered one another.”

The lift reached the main floor and Ashur followed his blue guide as she started walking between the shelves. He looked to either side and saw rows upon rows of books. Some were bound in leather; others were tied at the spine. Still more had the signatures adhered together by some kind of hard adhesive. His attention was brought back to Mera as she continued.

“As with many of the subsequent cultures who interact, a common tongue developed so that we could trade, make treaties, and all of the other relations that happen between peoples. The only difference was that the gods took interest in ours and codified part of it. We called that part “The Lexicon”.”

She made a sharp turn so fast that he had to grab the corner of a bookcase to use as a pivot point in order to follow her.

“We had our common tongue vernacular that was used for day to day usage, however, being the “first peoples”, our words had power and the gods didn’t want subsequent races and offshoots of ours to have that kind of power.”

Now he could see what looked to be some kind of central hub. Mera had made many turns and even doubled back down a different row from time to time. He knew that he was completely lost and resolved to not look away from her until they stopped moving.

“We were the only long-lived peoples; with lifespans of five to seven thousand years. That gave us the time to mature so that we could use the power of those words responsibly. The gods believed that if the short-lived races had that kind of access, they would tear the world apart in conflict and errors.”

They were close to the center now and Ashur saw a giant sculpture of a man and woman standing together facing opposite directions. Clothed in short robes, they were obviously carved from some sort of iridescent marble. The man held a staff in one hand and the woman held a globe. As Mera walked them around the statue, he could see that the figures’ free hands reached behind them and clasped the other’s. They had a look of determination and wisdom that almost seemed to radiate outward.

“The magic that helped to create and sustain the Great Libraries was born of these Words and the markings you see are those…or at least part of them.”

She had stopped before the giant woman and gestured upwards. The soldier gaped when he saw the same markings raised on the stone ribs where the robe did not cover her skin. He moved from side to side. As close as he could tell, they were identical to what he had felt under his fingers this morning.

Finally turning to look at the man, he could see more of the writing as the robes left his right shoulder and chest exposed. Ashur knew there was some significance there but turned to Mera as she started speaking once more. She waved up at the towering statue.

“The Words of Power you see on them are those given to the caretakers of the Libraries. These were created from the Lexicon and rewritten in several different planes for protection. With the Libraries being accessible to anyone who chose to enter, we needed a way to keep random visitors and those with untoward motives from being able study them too closely. The Libraries were the only places where the general public could see a part of The Lexicon. All other records or uses of it were closely guarded by our practitioners. I think your culture would call them mages.”

Mera unlaced the front of her dress and let it drop open. She pulled the material to her waist so that he could see what was written on her skin. Instead, all he could focus on was her chest. Her breasts bounced and wobbled distractingly while she moved.

She snapped her fingers in front of his face and he jumped. Caught again, he wondered once more what it was about her that made him so bumbling. She laughed a little at him which caused more movement and he fought to keep his eyes on the markings adorning her sides.

“Now I definitely know how to get your attention,” she quipped. Turning back up to the statue, she waved her hand. Almost as though he could see through the marble robe, glowing ribbons of light showed themselves along what would have been the statue’s skin had the robe not been there. Mera pointed at the matching patterns on her own skin.

“The Words you see are the power given to the two caretakers of each Library. Within the walls of our homes, we are basically gods, but that power extends to any of the Great Libraries we visit and, to some extent, beyond.”

The still topless woman wandered over to the towering stone man and laid her hand on his bare foot.

“Colphon was the male half and my partner. When he gave himself to the protection of this place, much of my own power disappeared. Since there are no visitors or criminals to worry about, this has not been much of a worry for me, but there are definitely times where it could have been useful.” Wistfully, she looked up at the statue and sighed heavily.

“I miss him. Not as much as I used to, but it still hits from time to time.” Mera turned back to Ashur and dropped her shoulders. “One of the other lessons of longevity is that memories fade and we move on; whether we want to or not.”

Wandering around to stand beside her, he placed a hand on her shoulder and joined her in looking up.

“So, is your Chosen One supposed to replace him? Or take up some other position?” It felt a little callous to suggest that someone Mera held so dear could be supplanted, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him.

“Honestly,” she said, placing her own hand on his,” I don’t know.” She stood for a moment more before giving his hand a pat and replaced her top while walking towards the bookcases closest to them. “I don’t think that even Eshava knew. To the best of my knowledge, whoever it is may be a man or a woman, but they will have the power to bring the Library back to the world.” Reaching the end of a bookcase, Mera spun and leaned back against it; folding her arms under her breasts.

“It would be nice to be able to walk out in the world again but, to tell you the truth, I’m scared.” Uncrossing her arms, she ran her hands up and down them; shivering slightly.

“Firstly, the world has changed so much that I’m not entirely certain that I would be able to fit into it again. The cataclysm took away so much that I don’t even recognize cities and towns that I used to walk daily.

“But more importantly, even with the use of the viewer, I have never been able to ascertain what caused the cataclysm in the first place. I know it wasn’t natural and nothing like it has happened since, but I still can’t rule out that whatever was behind it is still out there…waiting for the Library. For me.”

Mera shivered again and Ashur stepped up to her. She pressed against him as his arms went around the frightened woman. Her body quivered against him, but not in the passionate throws of the previous night. The unknown source of the cataclysm had unwittingly embedded great fear in this lonely woman and her solitary years had given that fear the opportunity to worm itself deep into her psyche.

“I dream that whoever does come will be so strong that they can keep…the Library safe from whatever comes; no matter what it is.”

Ashur caught the stutter and knew that she had meant to say something else. He held her tighter for a second and then let go when she made to move away from him. She shook her head as though trying to clear it and smiled up at him.

“That was quite a lot! I’m not usually this open, but when you haven’t had anyone to talk to for so long, it all sort of spills out. Anyway,” she chirped brightly while placing her hand on the end of the bookcase,” the markings you can see here tell you what area, section, and row of the Library you are in.”

Her hand traced a line under engraved lettering at a little below her shoulder height. Set around two feet above them was another set of writing that glowed faintly, but she didn’t explain that it was special or different from the engraved characters, so he assumed she meant all of it.

“The areas are broken up into the geographical kingdoms and countries that donated the material, the sections are by topic, and the rows are author and title. We used to hand out maps to anyone entering the building, but there are stands that have replacements should a patron lose theirs.” As if to emphasize her point, she gestured to a wooden stand that held folded papers with more of the ancient writing on the front.

“That must be a full-time job,” he mused. At her quizzical look, he elaborated. “Well, I imagine you have to replace those every few years when the paper breaks down and starts to fall apart, though I don’t know why you would spend the time to replace them before your Chosen One arrives.”

After a puzzled moment, Mera gave a laugh and walked over to one of the stands. She picked up one of the folded papers, brought it back, and handed it to him. He unfolded it and started to turn it this way and that as he attempted to decipher the picture on the page. Without understanding the language, he knew there was only so much he would be able to figure out.

“Those aren’t replacements,” his guide told him. “Those are still the originals from the day we submerged this place.”

Ashur stared at her in shock then looked back down at the paper in his hands. Original? How?

As if hearing him ask out loud, the azure woman patted his arm and started walking back along the route to her house. Realizing that he was in danger of being left behind, he jumped after her. When he caught up, she began to explain.

“Remember that I told you the viewing mechanism uses some of the power of time itself? The Library taps into that as well, but in a different way. Where the viewer moves back and forth along a determined temporal pathway, the Library is held in a sort of bubble. We are moving alongside the world in time, but everything in the bubble is held outside of it. Nothing here ages. Food is kept fresh and material,” she swept a hand at the paper he still held, “is preserved. Without that, we would have had to employ an entire army of scribes just to keep up with replacing manuscripts that wore out.”

Ashur pondered that as he followed her and then stopped when he came to a jarring realization. Mera had halted when she no longer heard his footsteps behind her and had turned to see what was wrong. Ashur’s face had paled as insight ripped through his mind.

Mera was stuck here forever.

Part of him had assumed that eventually, prediction or not, the caretaker would grow old and pass away if the prophesied “Chosen One” didn’t appear in time. She had told him that the Libraries had been built sometime during her second millennium and she had been here for three more. For a race that lived five to seven thousand years, she had to be getting close to the end of her lifespan.

Now, with this revelation, his face paled in understanding. There was no end for her; no reprieve until Eshava’s foretelling came true. Ashur looked to see that Mera’s face had turned to stone and her mouth had set into a thin line.

“I’m so sorry,” he croaked at last. Not knowing how she had guessed the path that his thoughts had taken, he knew without a doubt that she had.

“Another of those lessons of longevity,” she murmured. “I came to grips with the idea before the cataclysm even started. When we were chosen to be caretakers, time ceased to affect us just like the Library. It took a bit of getting used to, but it’s for the best. Learning the craft of caring for this place isn’t something that can be done in a few weeks…or years. As a matter of fact, I still didn’t feel like I had a grip on it until a century after the cataclysm.”

She sniggered at his look. “There’s a lot more to keeping this place going than you think,” she said and resumed their trek. Shaking his head at her resiliency, he followed along behind.

***

The walls had begun to dim noticeably by the time they had reached the “lift”. The name she gave the platform that transported them up and down seemed appropriate to him and he resolved to use the term in the future. She had shown him where to place his hand and push to start the elevating mechanism and, after a few practice runs, felt comfortable with the procedure; even if his stomach didn’t feel the same way from the up and down motion. Mera had grinned at his greenish complexion and suggested he wait for a few minutes before trying to go the other direction.

Leaving him to begin dinner preparations, she had returned to the Library without him for nearly an hour. When she appeared in the doorway, he rushed to help her with the rather large pile of books in her arms. At his questioning look, she had merely headed for his room and set them on the dresser in front of the bed.

“It’s still going to be some time before your return journey is ready, so I thought that it might be good for you to be able to navigate upstairs.” He picked up the top few books from one of the piles. They were thin and had brightly colored pictures of small animals on the cover. He raised an eyebrow at her and she fell onto his bed laughing uproariously at his expression. The soldier waited patiently until she finally got herself under control and wiped the tears from her eyes.

“It’s the best way I could think of to teach you the language,” she explained through her diminishing giggles. With a resigned sigh and a chuckle of his own, he turned away from the children’s primers and returned to the kitchen to finish making dinner.

***

The next morning, Mera was gone when he came out of his room. She had warned him that he would be on his own for the next day or so as she had Library business to attend to. What that might be, he couldn’t fathom, but he spent the time reading through the children’s primers and textbooks. By the time she had returned on the first evening, he was ready to ask her for some sort of pen and ink so he could start practicing writing.

The pen she provided him with was not the turkey feather he was expecting, but a cylindrical affair with a brass point. He still had to dip the pen in an inkwell, but it felt odd not to be required to re-sharpen the nib every few pages.

Her “day or so” extended to almost a week with the blue-skinned custodian returning every evening; sometimes long after he had eaten and once while he was sleeping. After a few of these trips, she had been haggard and worn; eating the meals he prepared with gusto before heading off to a shower and bed. On one frightening occasion, she had returned with tears in the skirt of her dress that resembled nothing more than claw marks from a large animal. When he commented on them, she had shaken her head at him and said, “It’s not all books and fun.” She had refused to elaborate further and had gone straight to bed.

As he became more proficient with the language, he felt comfortable enough to venture out into local areas of the library. Knowing better than to stray far, he had asked his hostess for a few more copies of the map; three of which he kept on his person at all times.

At first, he had explored in small jaunts; keeping his map out and referencing it often. As he grew more familiar with the territory and expanded his travels, he became aware of something amazing built into the map itself. The images and descriptions changed with the section he was in! Fascinated, he watched as the map on the paper followed his movements. As he approached the end of a row or section, the edges of the map would label what bordered his location. Even better, if he turned to face another direction, the map would shift to match his perspective!

What confused him, however, were the glowing characters that were emblazoned on the ends of each bookcase. Try as he might, he could not read them. He spent several hours one day trying to figure them out, but eventually admitted defeat. Just as he thought he could read a word, it turned blurry and his eyes would water; forcing him to close them or turn away. When he turned back, it was as though he was seeing them for the first time. On the fourth day of trying, he resolved to ask Mera about them when she returned for dinner.

But she didn’t.

For two days, he waited; assuming she was still off on whatever duties kept her far from her home. After nearly two weeks of living there, he was starting to think of it as his home too but shied away from the connection. Soon enough, he would be leaving this marvelous place and returned to his world with no memory of what had happened here.

On the third day, he started to worry, but could think of nothing to do. He had no idea where she had gone or how to find her, so he curtailed his wanderings and waited inside the house in case she returned during the day.

On the fourth day, he heard the door open and turned from where he had been sitting on the couch. When he didn’t see anyone enter, he rose, stopped, and the ran for the entryway. Mera was crawling in through the doorway at the head of a trail of blood. He raced to her and started to pick her up. At her scream of pain, he stopped and lay her back down.

“What happened?” he demanded. There were so many blood smeared cuts and scrapes on her that he couldn’t tell where unbroken skin was. Her left leg below the knee was shredded and her foot was missing entirely. The bones of her right forearm jutted out from the skin and the hand hung loosely by the skin and meat.

“Broken ribs,” the battered woman panted. Ashur cursed himself for grabbing her without thinking. He knew better but had been so shocked by her condition that his training had fled from him. Now, he started to triage her as he would a wounded soldier after a battle.

Tearing cloth from the remnants of her dress, he started to wrap tourniquets around her damaged limbs. There was nothing he could do for the ribs right now except hope that none of them were piercing her internal organs. As he wrapped the cloth around her knee, she started batting at his hands and mumbling. Frustrated, he pushed her hands away and tried to continue his work, but she grew more insistent. 

“Bathtub,” she mumbled. “Get muh to bthtub.”

Not knowing what she had in mind, but not wanting to cause her more pain, Ashur hooked his hands into her armpits and started dragging her to the bathroom. Her pained moans and grunts accompanied them and he leaned down to pick her up.

“This is going to hurt,” he warned her. When she nodded her head weakly, he lifted her mangled body. Her scream of pain pierced his ears, but he ignored it as he set her into the deep bathtub.

Mera panted heavily once he had released her and it was several minutes before she could speak. Her eyes opened weakly and she waved at a glass jar on the shelf that held her bathing implements. He had noticed the jar while showering himself but had assumed it was a fragrance or oil. He grabbed and opened it. Inside was a greenish powder with a deep spoon or scoop.

Holding it up to her questioningly, he had to wait another few minutes before she had regained enough energy to hold up two fingers. Assuming she meant two measures of the scoop, he asked, “Water?”

At her nod, he turned the taps to start the bathtub filling. When the level of the water had covered most of her body, he added the powder at which point it immediately started foaming. Mera moaned in pain but made no move to escape the water that was churning around her. Not knowing what else to do, Ashur knelt beside her on the tile floor and waited. He jumped when he heard several loud sharp cracks from her torso and her agonized scream filled the room. 

For the next hour, the soldier watched as her body began to repair itself. The skin of her broken arm wrapped itself around the bones and he could just make out two small thumps which he assumed were the bones setting themselves. The only thing that did not heal rapidly was her missing foot. The muscles and tendons surrounded the bones of her lower leg, but that was it.

All through the process, Mera groaned and shifted. When the last bit of torn skin knitted itself back together, her pained keening ended but she grunted from time to time as some internal repair was being effected.

Finally, after several hours of grisly work, the magical powder seemed to have done everything it could and the wounded woman settled into a deep slumber. Unsure what next steps to take, he decided that the safest course of action would be to leave her so as not to remove her from the effects of the healing water. Going to the kitchen, he grabbed a large pot and a small utility knife. With it, he cut the rest of her shredded, bloody dress away and tossed it into a heap on the floor.

He filled the pot with water from the tub and took it into the kitchen to heat. He wanted to keep the water warm for her but didn’t want to lose any of the healing mix. With the first pot on the cooking surface, he grabbed a chair from the dining room, set it beside the sleeping woman, and settled down to wait.

***

Ashur woke with a start when he heard sloshing in the tub. For two days, he had stood watch over her; reheating water time and again to keep her warm. He had left only to eat and to clean the trail of blood she had arrived in.

He lifted his head from his folded arms to see Mera staring at him.

“Well, this is a first,” she mumbled wearily. Putting her hands on the sides of the tub, she made as if to lift herself out. He put out a hand to stop her.

“Are you good to move?” he asked. Her foot had not regenerated, but he had watched the leg get slowly longer during his “tub”side vigil.

Mera nodded weakly and he reached into the water to lift her out. She clung to his neck as he sat her on the toilet and toweled her off. Her arms were shaking with the effort and he made sure she was stable as he rubbed the towel over her.

“Umm..” she started. “This is a little embarrassing, but I need your help with something.” Unable to guess her need, he looked a question at her and watched as purple flushed through her skin.

“Ah…Since I’m sitting on the right spot anyway there’s a rather pressing matter I need to attend to. I’m too weak to take care of it myself, so could you…?” She left the question open and he stared stupidly at her. She looked down between her legs at the covering of the toilet then back up at him.

“Oh! Shit!” he stammered. Blushing a bit himself, he lifted her up with one arm and the lid with the other. She clung harder to him as he lowered her back down.   

 “Not yet,” Mera chuckled, “but soon enough I’m afraid.”

Ashur had helped many of his friends to the jakes; wounded and drunk alike. This situation, however, was a first for him and he suddenly didn’t know where to put his hands to steady the naked woman. Settling for an arm around her ribs, he looked off in the distance. He looked back at her when he heard her snickering.

“Another lesson of longevity: Eventually, modesty seems really silly.” She kissed him on the cheek and he heard a liquid splashing sound beneath her.

Several hours later, Ashur stepped out of Mera’s room and into his own. His clothes were still damp from picking her out of the tub so he removed them and stepped back into the bathroom.

Mera had stayed awake just long enough for him to settle her into bed and then promptly passed out again. He was not looking forward to helping her take care of “other business”.

He spent the next few minutes cleaning the porcelain of the tub and floor before wandering, naked, back into the common area. Feeling better now that he knew the wounded blue woman would be okay, he relaxed for the first time in days.

She had assured him that she would probably sleep for several more days but would need his “help” from time to time. When Ashur had asked how she would let him know, she grinned sleepily at him. “It’s usually in the middle of the night and you’ve slept in my bed before.” She had patted the empty side before rolling over and falling asleep.

Now, he lay back on the couch until he found himself dozing off. Heaving himself to his feet, he entered her bedroom and looked down at her. Her face was troubled by a bad dream; what, he didn’t know. He pulled back the covers on the opposite side and lay down trying to give her room should she need it, but it turned out she didn’t. He had no sooner settled onto his side when she scooted back into him. Her naked body felt great against his and he wrapped his arm around her; pillowing her head on his other. He supposed the shifting had broken her out of her bad dream because he heard her hum gently to herself before snuggling deeper into him.

***

As Mera recuperated, she slept less and less. After almost a week, her foot had regrown into a stump and she hobbled around with a cane that was well worn on the handle. Ashur speculated that this was not the first time she had suffered such injuries and had asked her about it while helping her on yet another trip to the bathroom. She had simply shaken her head and held up a hand until she had finished. He was starting to think she took some perverse pleasure in trying to embarrass him and he resolved to do something about it soon.

Once he had resettled her into bed and she had snuggled back into him, she told him that there were many offshoots of the Library that, because of its very nature, led to other planes of existence and would continue to until It was reconnected with the world. As it stood, the magical edifice was in a sort of “reality limbo” (which he had not understood), and creatures from some of the other planes would wander among the farthest outreaches when their worlds overlapped the Library’s space.

When he told the consternating woman that he understood none of what she said, she had patted his cheek and replied with a simple, “I know.” Between her bathroom pranks and “cheeky” comment, he started to get a little surly and, one day, he followed a quick impulse and retaliated.

During her convalescence, whenever she needed to empty her bladder, she had him kneel in front of her so that she could lean on him for support. More often than not, they were both naked for an easy transition to the shower to help her clean off. She said it made her feel better, but he had a deep down suspicion that she simply wanted to shower with him; a desire he shared and felt no need to deny her.

And so it was, that, on one of the occasions, she was just finishing up with a mischievous grin, when he suddenly said, “You know, that seems like a great idea.”

Before she had an inkling of what he meant, he had reached down and pulled his penis to point towards the space between her legs. Her eyes widened when she realized his intent and tried to bring her knees together, but his body was in the way. As the first, and strongest, part of his stream hit her thighs, she squealed and tried to turn away. The only thing this accomplished was to have him spray directly onto her crotch.

Her mouth opened wide in surprise when she felt the warm wetness cover the bottom most curve of her mound and along her lips. She started to push at his shoulders, but she was still fairly weak and only succeeded in pushing herself farther back along the seat; removing her from the line of fire.

At first, he thought she would be angry, but she recovered from her shock and looked down at the mess while shades of purple and pink worked their way across her naked body. She looked up at him in wonder, leaned forward to wrap her arms around his neck, and fervently kissed him.

“I’m not usually up for that,” she said into his lips, “but that was an interesting surprise. Now get me into the shower.” Happy that she was not terribly offended and a little aroused himself, he turned on the water and looked back at her. She was wiping a hand along her nether lips and occasionally rubbing her clit.

When he helped her to stand and hobble toward the tub, she used her free hand to reach down and grab his member. It had already hardened somewhat from her lusty kiss and her hand on it had the desired effect of giving her a steady handhold to stabilize herself with.

Once they were both under the running water, she faced him and started working her hand faster on his cock. He leaned down to kiss her and ran his hands along her body; wanting to reciprocate. She pushed his fingers away from her.

“I don’t have the balance for that right now. Let me do this for you.” Nodding, he pulled his hands away from her blue stomach and held onto her hips to help keep her upright. For several minutes, she worked him with her hands, but the action constantly pushed her off balance. With a frustrated tsk, she grabbed onto his body and used him to lower herself down onto her knees. Understanding her intent, he helped her down until she was staring directly at his penis.

He thought that she meant to continue her “manual” treatment and was unprepared to feel the warmth of her mouth around him. Sucking on him gently, she pulled away enough so that only his head was still between her lips. She looked up at him and ran the tip of her tongue in the divot underneath his head.

He leaned forward and put one hand on her head and the other on the wall to brace himself. Gasping at her sudden oral onslaught, he tried not to unbalance them both. She grinned up at him around the head of his cock and bobbed back down again. When he hit the back of her mouth, he thought she would pull back off and was surprised a second time. Mera paused, took a deep breath, and swallowed him into her throat.

“Fuck!” he grunted as he felt himself slide farther into her. Pleasure radiated from the head of his dick, through his balls, and, from there, to the rest of his body. He gripped one of the built-in shelves on the bathroom wall to keep from falling when his knees buckled.

When she released him from her throat, she grabbed the base of his manhood and began to stroke him. Her leftover saliva helped her hand move along his shaft until the water washed it away at which point, she swallowed him again. She took him into her as deep as he would go time and again.

He felt one of her hands grab his ass to pull him farther towards her and, looking down, realized the other was strumming her clit. He wasn’t sure who was closer, but the moans that vibrated through her throat were on their way to making certain he won.

His climax overtook him as he grabbed her head and shoved her into his groin. Her hand grabbed his ass harder as he pumped shot after shot of semen down her gullet. By the screams he felt bubble out of her throat around him, he knew that she was cumming too, but was too locked into his own to let her go.

He pulled himself free as soon as he was able to let her breathe and looked down at her. Her watering eyes were full of lust and she leaned forward to take him into her mouth again; licking him clean.

When she was done, his knees finished giving way and he sank down into the tub. She scooted back to give him room to stretch his legs. Reaching behind her, she turned off the shower and let the tub fill with warm water.

As Ashur struggled to catch his breath, his blue lover settled down between his legs and leaned back into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and cupped her breasts. She put her hands over his and patted one of them.

“You’re fun, barbarian,” she commented.

***

They sat together in the water for some time; refreshing it to stay warm. Ashur occasionally fondled Mera’s chest and, in return, she wiggled her ass against him.

Looking over her shoulder and down at the stump of her growing foot, he inhaled deeply and asked her, “How many times has this happened? How many times have you almost died?”

She sighed and wrapped both of her arms around one of his. She took a bit to answer, but he could tell that she was trying to give him a complete response, so he waited.

“I can’t die.”

Reaching for the taps to warm the water again, Mera leaned forward which gave him a view of her spine and the ancient magical writing there. With a mind of their own, his fingers traced them; causing her to shiver slightly.

“At least, not within the reach of the Library.” She settled back against him and hugged his arm again. “Remember when I said that within these walls, caretakers are basically gods? I didn’t mean just in power. No matter the damage or dismemberment, my body will always regenerate eventually.”

Ashur had heard of incantations and magical artifacts that could bring someone back from the dead, but those stories were usually accompanied by tales of the resurrected being mindless husks. When he mentioned this to Mera, she shook her head.

“No, it’s nothing like that. From what I know of that magic, the body is simply reanimated, but the soul is gone. My situation is a bit different. My soul is part of the Library now; embedded into the structure and foundations so when my body is hurt, a basic regeneration Word is all that’s necessary.” She pointed to one of the markings on her spine, just below her shoulders. “That one.”

He frowned. “But what if the skin gets damaged?”

“Remember the Writing on the statues upstairs? As long as that’s there, I’m good.”

He thought for a minute. “And if something happens to the statue?”

“It’s never come up,” she shrugged. “But I do know that anyone who tries had better have something stronger than a hammer and chisel.”

They sat in companionable silence for a bit after that. Later on, they sat at the table; having eaten a small lunch.

“I do have one question,” he rumbled. “If only the first races can use the Lexicon, how are mages able to do magic?”

Mera sat back in her chair and looked speculatively at the ceiling.

“As near as I can tell,” she said, “the magic used these days is a bastardized form of the Lexicon. I haven’t checked in the last couple of centuries but, from what I’ve seen, mages of your time have to use long spells and incantations in order to ask the gods or other entities for power to use. Most of those beings don’t really like giving power away so the mage has to work hard to get their attention. He basically has to make enough of a nuisance of himself to get noticed, but not so much that he gets obliterated to stop his pestering.

“I think someone figured it out about five or six hundred years after the cataclysm. There were all sorts of “magic-men” sitting by themselves chanting for a long time until some of them got together and started to compare notes on what worked and what didn’t. Eventually, these became the “spells” that future mages learned from.”

Ashur thought about that for a moment. “So how is that using the Lexicon?”

The ageless woman tapped her fingers on the table for a few seconds; clearly trying to find a good way to explain. Finally, she nodded.

“Each of the Words of the Lexicon are much longer than a regular word so they have many more syllables. Unless you have been trained by one of the first races, there is no way to know that each syllable has power in itself and, when joined with the others, taps into the very nature of reality.

“What the mages are doing is using some of these syllables to get a god to notice them, but the syllables themselves are not doing anything because the mage is not of the first races. The god, however, still notices that the syllable is being uttered and must turn his or her attention to the mage to see what the noise is about.

“I guess you could say that the mage is like a small child who learned one or two words and is shouting them over and over to get a parent’s interest so that the child can ask for a treat.”

Ashur pondered that for a bit before asking his next question.

“So, their “magic” is basically a sort of prayer? That’s been answered?”

Mera threw back her head and laughed. “I never thought of it like that, but yes!”

Smiling at her amusement, he continued to mull over this idea.

“Huh,” he chuckled, “So both priest and pagan are doing the same thing. Interesting.”

This statement made his companion laugh again.

“So,” he repeated, “if mages are using someone else’s power, where does yours come from?”

Mera gave another of those deep searching looks as though she was trying to figure out a problem and, as usual, gave a nod before answering.

“When the gods created the Lexicon, they chose Words that resonated with the fabric of reality. For most people, the resonance is so miniscule that nothing happens. For the first races, however, the gods amplified that resonance. Then they showed us the written forms; patterns that vibrate in the same manner as the sounds. Linked together, these became Words and the Lexicon was created.”

The attentive man had heard when she used the capital “W” for Words in previous explanations, but this time, a tone sounded in his ears as she said it. He paid it no mind and waved her to continue.

“The power of the Lexicon is that it changes the very nature of the world in specified ways and doesn’t need to rely on borrowing another’s strength. That’s why I can use magic almost limitlessly where a mage must rest after a while. To borrow a god’s strength, the mage must channel that power through themselves and very few mortal creatures can do that for very long.”

Ashur tilted his head. “Almost limitlessly?” he inquired.

“Well,” she replied with a grin,” I do have to sleep at some point. Speaking of which…” She held her arms out to him. He smiled and carried her to her room where she snuggled down for a nap. He noticed that she still needed these rest periods while healing, if not as often as she had immediately after her wounding.

Unable to sleep himself, he left her door open and sat on the couch to work through all the information she had thrown at him. He had never had any aptitude for magic, nor the desire to learn it. He had known many mages over the years; most of whom had been in the ranks of the army themselves. They had been hoarders of their secrets and done their best to keep books, rituals, and other artifacts out of the hands of and away from the eyes of casual onlookers. Whenever they had been called upon for battles, they stood as a group far away from the main fighting; guarded by a handpicked team of foot-soldiers that had been sworn to secrecy.

What little he had garnered was that the study of magic was long and dangerous. Mera’s mention of being obliterated by an irate god explained a few explosions and fires he had seen in the mage’s college. It made him even more glad that he had never ventured down that road. He could be a stubborn pain in the ass when he chose, but that was taking it a bit too far.

But Mera, by her own admission, could use the Lexicon to accomplish anything a mage could do and more. How had she been hurt? The recovering woman had alluded to other injuries in the past; some worse than this. How?

Perhaps her long-deceased lover had been her protection?

No. When he had died for the Library, it was to take the enchanted structure out of the world. Only then had the various hinted-at dangers emerged. Before then, the Library had been in the middle of a bustling city with a stray dog being the most fearsome creature, according to the lonely caretaker.

The thought of her being hurt pained him. Obviously, he didn’t like seeing anyone not an enemy be hurt, but this was more. He liked this woman. Beautiful, smart, and, obviously, brave, she had caught his interest above and beyond the desperate sex of their first night and their brief playing in the bathroom.

It took him a bit, but he seriously examined his emotions. Did he love her? No, not quite. The potential might be there, but, as it stood, he felt affection, but not much more and he was certain she felt the same.

Other than the oral attack he had received a few hours ago, they had not done anything sexual since that emotional night; despite him sleeping in the same bed with her. Her injured state had kept his arousal non-existent and it had appeared that she didn’t have the energy or inclination either.

No. He could feel the beginnings of a friendship here, but it would end soon enough with his return to the world. Until then, however, she needed someone to watch her back on these excursions of hers. Whether she could die or not didn’t mean she couldn’t feel the pain of her injuries. Her screams when he had lifted her proved that. He suddenly had the image of a formless creature with claws that matched the rents in her skirt holding her down and mutilating her over and over again while she healed just in time to have it happen again. The thought sickened him and pushed a fist into his gut to ease the feeling. Yes, he decided. He would watch her back until he was gone.

 With that new resolve in his mind, he joined her in bed and slept.

***

He didn’t broach the subject until Mera’s fully formed foot signaled her readiness to resume her duties. He thought it must be getting close to time for his departure, but she had briefly shaken her head when he asked the morning after their discussion.

“Soon enough,” she had told him, “but not yet.”

Now, with her striding back and forth to regain strength and flexibility, he queried her again. When she looked up at him in consternation, he took a deep breath.

“I need to go back to the entrance,” he stated.

Her face fell. For a heart-rending moment, he thought she would cry and hurried to explain.

“I need my armor and weapons,” he said. “I need them to help you.”

Mera’s expression changed slowly from grief to wonder to hope as she looked at him. Then, slowly, she shook her head.

“No. I can’t let you. The things I face and the places I go are far too dangerous.” When he started to argue, she held up a hand. “I’ve seen your skill and your courage. I don’t doubt either of them, but I can’t.”

Not willing to be put off, he stepped closer to her. “No,” he replied, “I can’t. I cannot watch you go off into some unknown to face who knows what when I can help. Even if it’s just to give you another pair of eyes or that few seconds you need to pull off some of your magic.”

Ashur put his hands on her shoulders and looked down at her. “I know that I will only be here for a short time longer, but, in that time, let me help.” He could see in her eyes that she was wavering and decided to give her one last push.

“You don’t have to do this alone.”

He felt it then; felt her give in. Saw that minute shift in shoulders and body that signaled a change. She nodded at him and walked to the door; heading for the lift. Moving fast despite her stiff foot, she waved him to follow along.

This time, however, she didn’t take him all the way up to the main level. With practiced ease, she stopped the lift three levels above the house. Ashur was intrigued since he had kept his wanderings to the main floor. Mera, fully comfortable with her route, strode through the doorway set into the shaft wall and immediately made a right turn.

The soldier looked around him and then pulled out one of his copies of the map. Thankfully, it worked on this level as well as the top floor since, once they were away from the doorway, everything looked identical to the uppermost floor with the exception of the writings on the end of the bookcases and the shelved materials themselves.

Just as when showing him the statues, Mera made turn after turn and seemingly backtracked occasionally. This time, however, her follower was able to keep some semblance of direction. After five minutes of walking, they came to a wall; an oddity for Ashur since he had not encountered any of them above. His guide took a left and approached a silver gilded panel with three buttons.

Mera pushed the middle button and a panel the size of a doorway slid away. Marveling at all the secrets this place held, he followed her into a vast room behind the wall. While nowhere the size of the viewing room, it dwarfed the house. There was padding along two of the five walls and covered an area of the floor large enough to fit the common room where they took their meals. One of the other three walls had two more doors; one of which the purposefully moving woman was entering. Realizing that he had stopped to look at the room, Ashur hurried to follow.

Through the door was the biggest armory the experienced soldier had ever seen. Fading into the distance were racks upon racks of weapons and armor. Most were swords, maces, cuirasses, helmets, and other implements of war that he recognized, but others were a mystery to him in form and function. As he began to walk down an aisle, he noticed that Mera had stopped at the entrance.

At his look, she shook her head. “I’ve never been a melee kind of girl, so this is only the second time I’ve been in here since the cataclysm. I know what they all are and what they do but have little use for them.”

Shrugging his shoulders, he continued along the aisle. A dark shield made him think of the beastly statues in the foyer and he asked if there was anything he should avoid touching. Somehow guessing what he had been worried about, the woman laughed and assured him that everything here was safe to touch. Apparently, these items had been available to study for various researchers and historians.

“If you are going to do this, I need you well armed and protected,” she said. “Wander around and find something you like. I’ll explain its abilities so you can decide if it will work for you.” With that, she unceremoniously took a seat behind a desk that he had failed to notice during his initial, shocked look around the room.

For the next three hours, he perused the armory. Occasionally, he would pick something up and return to the desk for a description from the caretaker and was amazed every time. Swords that would cut through metal or stone, shields that could plant themselves in the earth to become a barricade and then become mobile again in a heartbeat, and armor that could shrug off a building or let you breathe underwater were all in the collection.

Eventually, he had stuck to the basics…in a manner of speaking. He had been using a sword, shield, and armor for the greater part of his military career and saw no reason to change that. However, the items he chose were almost nothing like he had ever wielded before.

According to Mera, the sword he chose would strike with the force of a rampaging bull with the slightest swing. He thought that might turn out to be useful if they were to be fighting between rows of bookcases where a full swing might prove tricky. When he asked if she had whetstone to go with it, she had shaken her head and commented that just about every sword in the place magically kept its edge. She seemed to think it was amusing that this was a universal trait of enchanted swords, but Ashur found it reassuring. If he needed to come and find a new blade, not having to sharpen it after centuries of neglect would be handy.

When he asked about a scabbard for it, she had directed him to one nearby. With gold gilding on the sides, he remarked that it was a little ostentatious for his taste and asked for something simpler. In answer, she took both sword and scabbard away from him, inserted the sword, pressed a small patch with what looked like Words on it, and then removed the sword.

“Throw it as far away as you can,” she said. He gave her a bemused look, but, curious, he followed her instructions. At ten feet, the sword vanished and he felt the scabbard grow heavy. He looked down at his hand in wonder to find the blade returned.

“Keep the scabbard,” she explained, “and you’ll never lose the sword.”

Settling both on his hip, he had perused the racks until he found a three-foot tall shield that resembled the army issue that he was used to. He had jerked his arm in shock when he first put it on. The shield had promptly reduced in size and wrapped around his forearm like a metallic vambrace. When he asked about it, she showed him how to deploy and retract it on command.

The greatest piece was the armor itself. Had he agreed to become an instructor, the army would have given him a custom steel cuirass and a pauldron, but since he had not, he had been left with the same standard issue painted boiled leather shell. That had been the extent of what Oudromore’s army had dictated in uniformity. From there, individual soldiers had added their own personal touches to the outfit with custom greaves, pauldrons, and assorted weapons.

The armor he held in his hands now, however, made him a bit woozy to think about, much less put on. When he had brought it to Mera, he had thought it to be some sort of strange underclothing that someone had left behind while donning some other piece. She quickly disabused him of that notion and he had goggled at the idea what it turned out to be.

It was a two-piece set of clothing. Lightweight and flexible, the armor was a soft grey with what looked to be some sort of fish-scale pattern. Both shirt and trousers were slightly smaller in leg and arm than normal wear. Mera explained that it was meant to be worn under normal clothing and had been the design of a now long dead king who had wanted it for his personal guard. Unfortunately for said king, the making of two sets had been long and almost ruinously expensive and he had dropped the project. The rarity and elaborate manufacturing process had earned them their place in the Library.

Ashur had originally scoffed at the idea that such flimsy material could withstand a knife, let alone a sword until Mera had handed him a blade from the racks, placed the shirt on the floor, and waved at it. He had swung with all his might and, although his arm was numb from the shock, the material was intact. He had looked back up at her, shaking his stunned hand.

“I have yet to meet blade or claw that can cut it,” she had told him.

When had asked her why she didn’t wear it, she had wordlessly stripped and put the armor on. He had guffawed. While apparently the material would stretch to accommodate a larger frame, it would not shrink to fit a smaller one. The lovely blue woman had looked like nothing more than a child trying to wear her father’s clothes. She had grinned back and waggled the loose cloth at him.

Now he was starting to strip his own clothes off in preparation to try the fantastic armor on. When he had taken off everything but his undershorts and reached for bottoms, he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned. Mera had not yet bothered to dress and she reached down to tug at his waistband.

With a sultry purr, she said, “They go under…everything.” He smiled at the tinge of lust in her voice and slowly pulled down his last item of clothing. As he straightened up, he felt the heat from her skin.

“That’s better,” she murmured, molding her naked body to the front of his. Taking in the feel and smell of her, Ashur placed his hands on her hips and pulled her even tighter. Leaning down, he brought his lips to hers. The kiss she returned was reminiscent of their first night together; hot and forceful.

His cock started to grow and the head brushed the insides of her thighs as it rose. She opened her legs enough to let him reach full length and he felt the lips of her sex part slightly from the pressure the height difference caused.

She moaned into his mouth and threw her arms around his shoulders when he started to thrust the spongy head of his dick along her slit. It was soon coated by the syrupy lubrication starting to leak from her; making the thrusting that much more pleasant.

Soon her breathing started to come in soft pants and she lifted her leg in an attempt to raise high enough to get him inside her, but he had other plans. Grabbing a handful of each cheek, he lifted her by her ass and carried her to the desk. Laying her down with her hips on the edge, he knelt in front of her spread legs and took a moment to enjoy the view. She was dripping freely now and her outer lips had parted to let the inner ones unfold. He smiled to see that the pink flashes of what he now knew was arousal coursed through her skin.

Reaching up, he placed her feet on his back and shoulders before reaching his arms under her knees to hold her hips firmly in place.

Mera gasped at the sudden rearrangement but moaned again as Ashur settled between her thighs and breathed out lightly against her folds. He blew gentle puffs of air along the insides of her thighs and across her lips. She writhed and jumped with every soft gust.

As he continued to torture her, he could see her arousal. It reflected from the nectar that liberally issued from between her lips. Wanting to drink her in, he leaned forward and swiped the flat of his tongue along her labia from bottom to top.

Mera cried out as he ended his teasing and began to lick her in earnest. He took each lip in his mouth and sucked then let go to draw his tongue once again up her weeping slit. She writhed so much that he had to grab her hips to brace himself. He licked and nibbled at her until she begged him to stop. That was when he found her clit and sucked it.

Her orgasm hit.

She bucked against his mouth and he thought he might bruise his upper lip against her pubic bone, but he held onto her; licking the fleshy nub in his mouth until her body shook again and again.

When he let go, tremors and flashes of color ran though her. He watched them course along her muscles and skin as he moved up and rested his body over hers. Once she opened her eyes, he pressed the tip of his cock against her and his eyes asked the question. She nodded emphatically and he sank into her.

Mera bucked again when he entered her. Her legs locked around his hips and tried to draw him deeper, but he was already bottomed out. Pushing back against that pressure, he withdrew until just his head was in her before thrusting in again. He planted his hands on the desk beside her and tilted forward to grasp one of her nipples between his lips. Squeezing gently, he licked the tip of it while keeping a smooth even pace in his lunging hips.

He felt her hands in his hair and she pulled him more firmly into her breast. “Oh yes! More!” she moaned. Enjoying her encouragement, he opened his mouth and drew in as much of her as possible. Feeling her nipple midway into his mouth, he pressed it up against the roof and began to suckle. Her moans intensified and he thought she might pull strands of hair from his scalp. He alternated between her two breasts and increased his tempo. With every thrust, her moans gained in volume and pitch until they reverberated and echoed throughout the armory.

Standing upright, he sank his hands into the tops of her bent thighs and drummed into her at an ever-increasing beat. Suddenly, he felt her body tense up and held her tightly to him as her hips bucked upwards. He rode through her orgasm as she sang out her pleasure.

As she started to come down, he resumed his previous cadence and started chasing his own climax. Repositioning his hands at her hips, he drummed into her; pushing her into another crescendo of ecstasy. Her hands clenched the edge of the desk and she pushed herself into him.

“Please,” she cried. “Oh, fuck me! Hurry and come! I can’t take any more!” Her cries triggered him and he peaked in a personal rhapsody of pleasure. His pelvis slammed into her as he unloaded time and again to his own chant of “Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck!”

Exhausted, he bent over her and laid his head on her breast. Her hands stroked his hair while they both caught their breath. When his softening penis finally slid from her grasp, he heard a soft mewl of protest through her skin.

They lay like that until his aching hips and back forced him to push upright once more. Taking her hands, he pulled her into a sitting position on the desk. She had just settled herself when her eyes went wide and she flushed a light purple.

At his look of concern, Mera gazed down between her mildly quivering thighs at the pool of their combined juices dribbling out from her. She gave him a mischievous grin and lifted her hips before sinking a finger into herself. He chuckled at her playfulness and felt a mild return of his arousal when she withdrew the finger and popped it into her mouth.

“Not bad,” she mused. The blue woman looked like nothing more than a head chef tasting an apprentice’s new soup. “Not bad at all.”

He leaned forward and kissed her then. She returned the kiss with weary passion and, for a moment, he got a hint of what she had tasted before she broke away and he found himself agreeing with her. Together, they made something pretty good.

“Get dressed,” she said, moving off the desk and gathering her own clothes. He noticed that, while she used part of her skirt to wipe the desk, she made no move to clean the rivulet slowly making its way down her inner thigh. Ashur raised an eyebrow at her and she winked back before walking back out the door; swishing her still naked hips at him. Smiling to himself, he followed along behind.