Chapter 63: Volume 1- [ - 64]
‘He makes a valid point. The risk is minimal. And the data — the opportunity to analyze the fluid directly, to understand its composition and its effects — this is scientifically valuable.’
She nodded. “I will do it.”
I pulled away the bedsheet.
Both sisters — Sera with my cock still half in her mouth, Lira with my balls on her tongue — looked up. Saw Elwen. Their eyes went wide.
“Please do not look—” Sera gasped, pulling off, her mouth wet, a string of saliva connecting her lips to my cock. “We — we did not—”
They looked away. Faces burning. The embarrassment was real — not the embarrassment of being caught in a sexual act, but the embarrassment of being seen by a woman they had come to respect, performing an act that the night’s training had made reflexive but the daylight made shameful.
I chuckled. Stood. My cock — hard now, the head swollen, the shaft glistening with Sera’s saliva — jutted forward at Elwen’s eye level.
“You both rest for now,” I said to the sisters. Then, to Elwen: “Follow me.”
I walked toward the far corner of the anteroom, where the firelight did not reach, where the shadows were thick and the stone wall curved to create a semi-private alcove. Elwen followed — her footsteps light, her wand tucked under her arm, her green eyes fixed on my cock with the focused, analytical gaze of a scholar examining a specimen.
‘Intriguing,’ her internal voice murmured as she walked behind me. ‘The organ is fully erect now — approximately ten inches in length, which is significantly above the human average documented in the Academy texts. The girth is also exceptional. The vascularity is pronounced — the dorsal vein is clearly visible, engorged. The glans is a deep crimson, indicating high blood flow. The testes — visible beneath the shaft — are large, suggesting high seminal production capacity. This is a remarkable specimen.’
I turned. Leaned against the wall. Let her look.
“See for yourself,” I said.
Elwen knelt. Not subserviently — not the way the sisters knelt, with their heads bowed and their hands in their laps. She knelt the way a researcher kneels beside a lab bench — with purpose, with curiosity, with the focused attention of a mind that wanted to understand.
Her hand came up. Her fingers — long, slender, the fingers of an elf, the skin pale and smooth — wrapped around my cock.
Her fingers did not meet. The girth was too much for one hand, and her eyes widened as she realized this.
“It is bigger than my fingers can wrap,” she said, and the observation was delivered with the same tone she might use to describe an unusually large mushroom. “How does it fit — inside — when you want to reproduce?”
‘Vaginal elasticity during arousal allows for significant dilation,’ her internal voice was already working the problem. ‘But this diameter would require substantial preparation. The human female body is capable of accommodating it, but the process would involve significant stretching of the vaginal tissues. Perhaps the brown-haired woman — the one who was sucking it — has developed increased elasticity through repeated—’
“Would you like to check?” I said, and the suggestion was soft, clinical, matching her tone. “You are a healer. You can examine it.”
She nodded. Her other hand came up, both hands wrapping around the shaft, her fingers exploring the surface — the veins, the skin, the texture, the way the foreskin shifted when she moved her hands upward.
She grabbed my balls. Squeezed — not gently, not erotically, but with the clinical pressure of a healer checking for swelling.
“Shit — it hurts,” I hissed, and the reaction was genuine — her grip was firm, and the testicles do not appreciate being treated like a patient.
She released immediately. “They are delicate? I apologize. In my examination, the tissue felt resilient, but clearly the nerve density is high. This is consistent with the Academy texts — the testicles are the most sensitive part of the male reproductive system.”
‘Pain response confirmed,’ her internal voice catalogued. ‘The tissue is sensitive to pressure. The organ itself — the shaft — seems less sensitive to touch, as it did not elicit a pain response when I gripped it. But the glans — I have not yet tested the glans sensitivity.’
She stroked the shaft. One hand, moving from base to tip, the motion slow and exploratory. The foreskin shifted, the head emerging, crimson and swollen.
“It feels good,” she said, and the words were an observation, not a compliment. “The tissue is warm. The skin moves freely over the underlying erectile tissue. The rigidity is consistent with full engorgement.”
“It does feel good,” I confirmed, and my voice was warm, encouraging, the voice of a teacher guiding a student. “You are good at this.”
‘Good at this,’ her internal voice repeated. ‘He is providing positive feedback. The stimulation I am providing is effective. I should continue — varying the pressure and speed to determine optimal parameters for seminal extraction.’
She stroked faster. Her grip tightened — the fingers wrapping around the shaft, the thumb pressing against the frenulum, the motion becoming rhythmic.
I let her work. Let the pleasure build — the sensation of her elven hands, cool and slender, working my cock with the focused precision of a woman who approached everything as a problem to be solved.
“You should use your mouth,” I said, and the suggestion was gentle, framed as advice. “The oral extraction method — the one the sisters were using — is more effective. The warmth and moisture accelerate the process.”
Elwen considered this. Her stroking did not stop — her hands kept moving, the rhythm maintained, her eyes fixed on the head of my cock.
‘The oral method,’ her internal voice mused. ‘He is suggesting that oral stimulation is more effective than manual. This is consistent with the theoretical literature — the mouth provides warmth, moisture, and textured stimulation from the tongue. The sisters were using this method, and he did not object. He seemed to enjoy it. If my goal is to extract the fluid for analysis, the oral method would be more efficient.’
She leaned forward. Her tongue came out — small, pink, the tip touching the head of my cock the way a scientist touches a chemical to test its properties. She licked. The taste hit her, and her expression shifted — not disgust, not pleasure, but the complex, analytical face of a woman processing new data.
‘The taste is — salty. Slightly alkaline. There is a musk undertone, probably from the sebaceous glands. The texture is — smooth, with a slight viscosity from the pre-seminal fluid. Not unpleasant, but not what I expected. The Academy texts described it as —’
“It tastes strange,” she said. “Salty. Pungent. Not — not what I expected.”
“It will taste better the more you do it,” I said. “Your mouth will adapt.”
‘My mouth will adapt. This implies repeated exposure is necessary for the taste to become acceptable. This is consistent with the principle of acquired taste — repeated exposure to a stimulus reduces the aversive response.’
She licked again. Longer this time, her tongue running from the base of the head to the tip, gathering the pre-cum that had gathered at the slit.
“You should suck it,” I said. “Take the head into your mouth. The extraction works best when the suction is applied directly to the source.”