Chapter 144: Wives' Welcome
The scent of the springs hit them first—warm, mineral-rich, carrying the ancient breath of the planet. It was a scent of life, raw and untamed. Bruce led the way, a simple towel around his waist, with Susan’s hand clutched tightly in his. She walked beside him, her freckles standing out against skin still flushed from the playroom, her eyes wide, taking in the cavernous space.
It wasn’t empty.
The mist coiled around nude and near-nude forms lounging in the various pools. Candlelight from sconces driven into the rock flickered, casting dancing shadows on smooth stone and smoother skin. Low conversation and laughter echoed, a comfortable, welcoming hum.
“Took you long enough,” Lena called from a nearby pool. She was perched on the edge, her amazing body glistening, her dark eyes shining. “We’ve been warming up the water for you.”
Anya and Freya were already there, intertwined in a smaller pool, kissing lazily. Isabella floated on her back, her blue eyes closed, her Brazilian curves breaking the water’s surface like islands of paradise. Sophia and Ketut were in a deep conversation, their athletic and lithe bodies pressed close. Julianna and Jasmine shared a submerged seat, their heads together, whispering. Susannah was at the far end, a silent, watchful presence, her gaze taking in everything. Camille was with Astrild, the ethereal being’s cosmic eyes seeming to slowly lose their terror as Camille spoke softly to her.
“It’s… everyone,” Susan breathed.
“Family,” Bruce corrected, squeezing her hand. “It’s Thursday. Springs night.”
He dropped his towel and stepped down into the largest, central pool. The water, hotter than blood, welcomed him. He sighed, the heat unknotting the last threads of tension. He turned and held a hand out to Susan.
She hesitated for only a second. Then, with a resolve that reminded him of the girl who’d faced a burning tree, she untied her robe and let it fall. Her body, toned and strong from a life in Mejis, was beautiful in the uneven light. The recent evidence of her initiation still glistened faintly between her thighs. She stepped down into the water, hissing at the heat, and sank up to her shoulders.
That’s when the hands found her.
It wasn’t an assault. It was a quiet, simultaneous claiming. Camille drifted over, a gentle smile on her face, and cupped water to pour over Susan’s shoulders. “Relax, querida,” she murmured. But her other hand slid around, finding Susan’s breast, her thumb brushing a peaked nipple.
From behind, Lena appeared, her body slick against Susan’s back. “Welcome to the wet part of the family,” she whispered, her hands sliding around Susan’s waist, then down, palms flat on her stomach before dipping lower. At the same time, Ketut moved in, her empathetic eyes reading Susan’s startled arousal, and leaned in to capture her lips in a soft, exploratory kiss.
Susan gasped into Ketut’s mouth. Her head fell back against Lena’s shoulder. “I… oh.”
“Shhh,” Lena soothed. Her fingers found Susan’s pussy, already beginning to swell. “Just feel.” She began to circle Susan’s clit with a deft, practiced touch.
Camille’s mouth descended, taking Susan’s other nipple between her lips, sucking and teasing with her tongue. The combination of sensations—the hot water, the soft lips on her breast, the clever fingers on her clit, the new mouth kissing her—made Susan shudder. Her hands flailed, finding purchase on Camille’s shoulders, her fingers digging in.
More joined. Isabella floated close, her skilled doctor’s fingers tracing the line of Susan’s jaw before she, too, leaned in to kiss her, sharing the taste of Ketut. Sophia’s strong hands began to massage Susan’s thighs under the water, opening her stance wider for Lena’s access.
“You belong to all of us now,” Bruce’s voice came, a low growl from where he sat watching, his arousal obvious, his thick cock standing rigid above the waterline like a stone pillar.
Susan could only moan in response, a high, desperate sound. Lena’s fingers pushed inside her, two, then three, curling. “So fucking tight for us,” Lena breathed in her ear. “Gonna make you come for us first. A little welcome gift.”
The attention became a symphony. Lips on her neck from Julianna. Jasmine’s hands kneading her breasts as Camille’s mouth moved to the other. Freya and Anya had drifted over, their hands stroking her arms, her back, her ass. Susan was surrounded, supported, worshipped. The trauma of her past—the fear, the fire, the loneliness—seemed to melt in the geothermal heat, dissolved by a dozen points of pleasurable contact.
She came abruptly, her body buckling between them. Lena’s fingers pumped her through it, milking the climax as Susan cried out, a raw, unfettered sound that echoed off the cavern walls. They held her up as she trembled.
When the last pulse faded, they gently guided her to a submerged shelf where she could sit, breathless and dazed. Her smile was wobbly, amazed.
“Okay,” she panted. “Okay. That’s… that’s a thing you do.”
Camille laughed, kissing her cheek. “Only the beginning.”
The focus shifted, fluidly, to Bruce. It was a silent, understood rotation. Lena was the first to move, slinking through the water toward him with a predatory grace. She didn’t say a word. She simply climbed into his lap, facing him, her incredible ass settling against his thighs. She reached down, took his massive cock in hand, and guided it to her entrance. She was already soaked, her own arousal mixing with the spring water.
She sank down onto him in one slow, inexorable motion, her head tilting back, mouth open in a silent scream as he stretched her wide. “Fuck, Bruce… every time… it’s like the first time,” she gasped, once he was fully sheathed. She began to ride him, her hips rolling in a tight, sensual circle.
Susan watched, hypnotized. The raw size of him, the way Lena’s body strained to accommodate it, the sheer visual power. But before Lena’s rhythm could truly build, Isabella was there.
“My turn on top,” the doctor said, her voice gentle but firm. Lena leaned forward, Bruce supporting her, and Isabella straddled his face, lowering her wet pussy onto his mouth. Bruce’s hands gripped her ass, his tongue diving deep immediately.
The scene unfolded with a chaotic, loving rhythm. Sophia moved behind Lena, her hands on Lena’s hips, helping her ride, while she herself ground her own sex against the small of Lena’s back. Ketut took Bruce’s free hand and guided it between her own legs, moaning as his thick fingers found her clit.
Jasmine and Julianna kissed deeply beside them, their hands roaming each other’s bodies under the water. Freya pulled Anya to the edge of the pool, bending her over, and licked her from behind with slow, devoted strokes, her own thick ass in the air. Susannah watched for a while longer, then joined, her strong hands cupping Freya’s breasts as she ate Anya.
Astrild, encouraged by Camille, finally moved. She approached Bruce with a celestial hesitation. Her touch, when she laid a hand on his arm, sent a shock of pure, cool energy through him. She leaned down, her hair of ink and stars falling around his face, and kissed him. It was a kiss that tasted of nebulae and eternal silence, and it made his power hum in response.
Susan, recovered, was pulled into the mix by Briana, who appeared beside her with a sly smile. “Shadow’s shadow, remember?” Briana whispered, before kissing her, her tongue sliding into Susan’s mouth as her fingers found Susan’s nipples, pinching and twisting with just the right edge of pain.
It was overwhelming. The cavern filled with the sounds of sloshing water, slapping flesh, gasped curses, and sobbing moans. The air thickened with steam and the musk of sex.
Bruce felt Lena’s climax first, her inner muscles clamping down on him in frantic waves as she screamed, “I’m coming, I’m coming on your fucking cock!” That triggered Isabella, who ground down on his face, soaking his beard as she shook. The chain reaction went through Sophia, through Ketut, their cries layering.
He lifted Isabella gently aside. Lena, boneless, slid off him with a wet plop. Bruce stood, water cascading from his body, his cock glistening and impossibly hard. His eyes found Susan, who was now being fingered by Briana while kissing Jasmine.
“Susan,” he said, his voice brooking no denial.
She broke the kiss, her green eyes wide. She waded toward him, through the tangle of blissful wives. He sat back on the shelf, pulling her to stand before him. He hooked his hands under her thighs and lifted her as if she weighed nothing, positioning her over him.
“You take it this time,” he commanded. “All of it.”
She nodded, biting her lip. She reached down, guiding him. The broad head pressed against her, still sensitive, still stretched from earlier. She lowered herself slowly, crying out as he began to penetrate, a fresh, burning fullness that was becoming addictively familiar. The water buoyed her, allowing her a control she hadn’t had with the construct. She sank down, inch by agonizing, exquisite inch, until she was fully impaled, his hips pressed against her ass.
“Holy fuck,” she whimpered, her arms around his neck. “It’s so deep.”
“Ride your husband, gunslinger’s girl,” Camille encouraged from nearby, her own hands between her legs as she watched.
Susan began to move. It was awkward at first, then found a rhythm—a slow, deep rise and fall that made her see stars. Each descent punched a soft “unnh” from her lungs. Bruce’s hands gripped her ass, helping her, his gaze locked on hers.
The others gathered around, a circle of encouragement. Anya’s hand stroked Susan’s back. Freya kissed her shoulder. Lena whispered filthy encouragements. “Take that big cock, Susan. Milk it dry for us.”
Susan’s pace increased, driven by their voices, by the heat, by the overwhelming sense of belonging. Her orgasm built, a coiling, inevitable pressure. “Bruce… I’m gonna…”
“Do it,” he grunted, his own control fraying.
She came, screaming, her pussy convulsing around him in rhythmic, clenching waves. That was the final trigger. With a roar that shook droplets from the cavern ceiling, Bruce erupted inside her. She felt the scalding flood, pulse after incredible pulse, filling her to overflowing. He held her down, grinding up into her, ensuring every last drop was deposited deep in her womb.
They stayed locked together, breathing raggedly, as the water slowly stilled around them. The other wives, in various states of satisfaction, settled into the pools, leaning against each other, soft touches and softer words passing between them.
Susan finally slumped against his chest, spent. A slow trickle of his release leaked down her inner thigh, lost in the mineral water. She had never felt so thoroughly used, so completely owned, and so absolutely
She felt loose, molten, and utterly replete. Bruce held her against him, his own breath a slow tide in her ear, the world narrowed to the heat of water and skin. The murmured conversations and soft laughter of the other wives wove a tapestry of contentment around them. It felt, Susan thought dizzily, like coming inside a castle after a lifetime of cold winds.
“You okay?” Bruce’s voice was a low rumble against her temple.
“Mmm.” It was all she could manage. Words were too solid for the liquid state of her bones.
After a time, he helped her slide off him. The sensation of him leaving her body was a profound emptiness, followed by a dull, sweet ache. She settled beside him on the submerged shelf, her head on his shoulder, watching the gentle chaos of her new family. Freya was now lying back on a smooth rock, Anya’s head between her thighs, Anya’s fingers working deep inside Julianna as Jasmine kissed her. It was a shifting, sensual mosaic.
Lena drifted over, a sleek, satisfied otter gliding through the water. She draped herself over Susan’s lap, her back against Susan’s thighs, and looked up at her. “So. How’s the welcoming committee treating you?”
Susan smiled, her fingers automatically stroking Lena’s damp hair. “Thorough.”
“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” Lena grinned, mischievous. “Sometimes Astrild gets going and the whole cave starts glowing. Freya’s screams can crack quartz.”
From a nearby pool, Freya lifted her head, her lips glistening. “Lena, you shit-weasel, I do not.”
“You absolutely do,” Anya said, her voice muffled against Freya’s thigh. She didn’t stop what she was doing.
The banter was easy, familiar. It wrapped around Susan, another layer of warmth. Camille moved through the water, handing out cups of cool wine she’d fetched from a niche in the rock. She handed one to Susan, their fingers brushing. “To steady your nerves,” Camille winked.
“Think they’re pretty well shot,” Susan admitted, taking a sip. The wine was crisp, cutting through the mineral tang on her tongue.
“Good,” Camille said simply. She looked around, her gaze maternal, assessing. It settled on Astrild, who sat slightly apart, knees drawn up, watching the revelry with those star-shot eyes that held eons of loneliness. Camille nudged Bruce with her foot. “Go on. She’s still an island.”
He watched her for a moment, Astrild’s silhouette a constellation of shadows against the glowing rock. The laughter of the others splashed around him, but she held herself in a pocket of quiet. Bruce pressed a kiss to Susan’s damp hair and stood, water sluicing from his body as he waded through the chest-deep pool.
He sat on the smooth stone ledge beside her, the heat of the water a stark contrast to the cool, ancient aura she seemed to radiate. He placed a hand on the small of her back, feeling the incredible, silken texture of her skin, and rubbed slowly.
“Why are you alone over here?” he asked, his voice low, meant for her alone. “You alright?”
Astrild didn’t jump. She turned her head, and her eyes, swirling with nascent galaxies, met his. She offered a smile that was fragile, a crack in the mask of eternity. “Yes. Just deep in my thoughts,” she murmured. “It’s still an adjustment. To go from being alone for so long… to this.” Her gesture encompassed the cavern, the laughter, the tangled, loving bodies.
Bruce nodded, his thumb making slow circles on her spine. “Is it a bad adjustment?”
She watched as Lena and Briana, a tangle of limbs and dark hair, whispered and laughed together. She saw Ketut leaning into Sophia, the empath’s head resting on the strength goddess’s shoulder. Astrild exhaled, a sound like a distant solar wind. Then she leaned her head against Bruce’s shoulder, her hair of ink and stars pooling against his skin.
“No, you stupid man,” she whispered, the affection in the curse warm and real. “It’s amazing. And overwhelming sometimes. But there’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
Her confession hung between them, delicate. He understood the weight of it. A thousand years of hiding, of silence, traded for this raucous, messy, breathtaking intimacy. He said nothing, just let the heat and the sounds and the simple press of her head against him be his answer.
Across the pool, Susan watched them, a soft understanding in her eyes. She’d known isolation, too. Not millennia, but a final, fiery loneliness. Camille floated over to her, following her gaze.
“She fits,” Camille said simply, sipping her wine.
“She does,” Susan agreed. She felt a sudden, fierce protectiveness for the ancient being. “Does she… does she ever join in? Like… that?” She gestured vaguely toward where Anya was now lying back in the water, her breasts breaking the surface, as Freya knelt between her thighs, her blonde head bobbing with slow, intent rhythm.
“When she’s ready,” Camille said. “There’s no force here. Only welcome.” She grinned, a flash of white teeth. “But the welcome can be very persuasive.”
As if on cue, Lena detached herself from Briana and slid through the water like a seal, coming to rest near Bruce and Astrild. She propped her chin on Bruce’s knee, her dark eyes looking up at Astrild.
“You think too much, star lady,” Lena declared, her voice a playful drawl. “It’s hot. We’re naked. Our husband has a magic cock. The math is pretty simple.”
Astrild actually laughed, a sound of surprising lightness, like crystal chimes. “Your reductionism is… refreshing, Lena.”
“Damn right it is.” Lena’s hand slipped under the water, her fingers trailing up Astrild’s thigh. “You’re sitting here all… contemplative. Let me give you something else to think about.”
Astrild’s breath hitched. Lena’s touch was utterly human, warm and immediate, so different from the cold touch of the void she was accustomed to. She looked at Bruce, a question in her cosmic eyes.
“Your choice,” he said again, the same words he’d given Susan. It was the only rule that mattered.
Astrild looked at Lena’s bold, open face, then down at the hand on her thigh. The isolation of ages was a familiar cage, but its door was now swung wide. She took a shuddering breath and gave a single, almost imperceptible nod.
Lena’s smile was triumphant. She leaned in and kissed Astrild’s shoulder, her lips soft against that impossible skin. Then her mouth moved lower, following the path her fingers had taken. She kissed her way down Astrild’s chest, taking her time, learning the map of her.
Bruce felt Astrild tense, then gradually melt beside him. Her head grew heavier on his shoulder. Lena’s wet hair fanned out across the water as she descended, her destination clear. When Lena’s tongue finally touched the delicate, otherworldly folds between Astrild’s legs, Astrild made a sound. It was not a moan. It was a note, pure and resonant, a vibration that made the water around them shiver and the candle flames dip.
“Fuck,” Lena mumbled, her voice muffled. “You taste like… starlight and lightning.”
Astrild’s hands came up, one tangling in Lena’s hair, the other gripping Bruce’s arm. Her eyes were wide open, fixed on the cavern ceiling, but seeing something else entirely. Lena ate her with a relentless, worshipful hunger, her tongue lashing and probing, her fingers joining in to stretch and delve.
The note Astrild had sung rose in pitch and intensity. Freya paused in her ministrations on Anya, looking over. Julianna and Jasmine stopped kissing, watching. The cavern’s ambient hum seemed to sync with Astrild’s rising pleasure. Small, motes of actual light, like captured fireflies, began to drift up from the water around her body.
“Don’t stop,” Astrild whispered, then commanded, her voice layered with power. “Don’t you dare stop.”
Lena redoubled her efforts, sucking Astrild’s clit between her lips, fucking her with two, then three fingers. The ancient being’s hips began to move, a slow, deep undulation that was alien and profoundly erotic. Bruce watched, captivated, as the goddess of potential unraveled under the devoted mouth of his shadow.
Astrild’s climax didn’t crash; it unfolded. It was a silent, expanding thing. The motes of light burst into shimmering dust that rained down softly on the water. Her back arched, not dramatically, but with a profound, tensile grace. Her hand clenched in Bruce’s arm, and for a second, he felt the true scope of her power—a universe of possibility held in check by sheer will. It bled into him, a surge of potential that made his own energies flare in response.
Then it was over. She slumped against him, trembling. Lena surfaced, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, looking immensely pleased with herself. “See?” she panted. “Better than thinking.”
Astrild, still breathing hard, turned her head and kissed Bruce’s shoulder. “Yes,” she breathed. “Infinitely better.”
The moment of profound quiet was shattered by a splash and a giggle. Anya, now thoroughly serviced by her sister, had wriggled free and launched herself at Bruce, tackling him backward into the water. They went under in a tangle of limbs, surfacing sputtering and laughing.
“My turn,” Anya declared, climbing into his lap, her small, perfect body slick against his. Her violet eyes gleamed with creative mischief. “I wanna feel you… all of you. The way you really are.”
She didn’t have to ask twice. Bruce allowed the restraint to fall away. The change wasn’t a dramatic show, just a subtle, terrifying increase in density and size. His cock, already formidable, thickened further, the veins standing in stark relief, the length surpassing anything humanly possible. It rested against his belly, a heavy, primal fact.
Anya licked her lips, her gaze hungry. She positioned herself above him, guiding him with a small hand. The broad, flared head pressed against her entrance, already stretched and slick from Freya’s attention. She sank down.
It was a slow, breathtaking invasion. Her eyes rolled back, her mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ of overwhelmed delight. She took him inch by agonizing inch, her inner muscles fluttering wildly around the monstrous girth. When she was fully seated, impaled to the root, she let out a shuddering sob of pleasure.
“Oh god… oh fuck, Bruce… it’s in my stomach,” she whimpered, her hips making tiny, involuntary circles.
“Ride it, creator,” he growled, his hands on her slender waist.
She began to move. It was a struggle at first, a beautiful, desperate battle against her own limitations. But she was a goddess, and her body adapted. Soon she found a rhythm, bouncing on him with increasing ferocity, her small breasts bouncing, her cries echoing off the stone. “Yes! Fuck me! Fuck your little whore! Fill my fucking pussy!”
Her abandon was the signal. The pool erupted into movement again. Freya moved behind her sister, wrapping her arms around Anya’s torso, pinching and pulling at her nipples as Anya rode. Susannah, with a gunslinger’s silent efficiency, waded over and took Bruce’s face in her hands, kissing him with a fierce, possessive intensity. Her body ground against his side.
Susan watched, her own body humming with renewed interest. Isabella drifted over to her, a knowing look in her ocean-blue eyes. “Sore?” she asked, her doctor’s voice clinical yet warm.
“A little,” Susan admitted.
“Good sore?”
“The best kind of sore.”
Isabella’s smile was radiant. “Then let’s make it a different kind of sore.” She kissed Susan, a deep, probing kiss, while her hand slid between Susan’s legs under the water. Susan moaned into her mouth, her body responding instantly, the exhaustion burned away by fresh need.
Bruce lost himself in the sensations. Anya’s tight, clutching heat. Susannah’s demanding tongue. The sight of Isabella fingering Susan while kissing her deeply. He saw Ketut and Sophia embracing, sharing breath and touch. He saw Jasmine and Julianna, their bodies aligned, moving together in a slow, sensual dance. He saw Briana nuzzling Lena from behind, her hands cupping Lena’s breasts as Lena watched him with sated, loving eyes. And he felt Astrild, now leaning against his back, her cool skin a contrast to the steam, her hands resting on his shoulders, sharing in the connection not through frantic touch, but through a deep, silent thrum of empathic power.
It was a symphony of flesh and spirit, of pleasure given and received, a web of connections that held him at its center. Anya’s pace became frenetic, her orgasm detonating with a scream that was half-pain, half-transcendence. Her inner walls convulsed around him, a rippling, milking pressure that pulled his own release from the base of his spine.
He came inside her with a guttural shout, a torrent that had Anya sobbing, overfilled, as it spilled out around the joining of their bodies. She collapsed against his chest, and he held her, both of them breathing like runners.
In the calm that followed, with Anya still impaled and shuddering on his lap, Bruce looked around the cavern. His wives, his family, in various states of entanglement and repose. Steam rose. Water lapped. Low whispers and soft laughs mingled with the distant trickle of the spring’s source. Astrild’s head rested between his shoulder blades, her breath a cool rhythm on his skin.
Camille floated before him, a serene expression on her face. She reached out and brushed a wet strand of hair from Anya’s forehead, then looked at Bruce.
“The core,” she said softly, her meaning clear. This messy, sweaty, profound togetherness was the bedrock of everything they were, everything they protected. It was the opposite of the dead king’s sterile, consuming hunger. It was life, abundant and loud and beautifully, chaotically real.
Bruce nodded, his arms tightening around Anya. He had no words. None were needed. The water held them, the earth cradled them, and for this one, perpetual moment, the universe and all its glaring, empty cold was held at bay by the simple, defiant heat of their joined skin.