FIGMENT

By Wes Leigh

 

This is a work of wild fantasy intended solely for the entertainment of my readers; any resemblance to any real people or places is purely coincidental. This story involves romance and sex between adult men as well as between men and teens and preteens, some incestual. If you are uncomfortable with any of this, please choose another story. This story is the property of the author and is protected by copyright laws. The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent.

Readers who would like to chat are encouraged to contact me at weston.leigh@protonmail.com.

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Chapter Two

 

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Tel' Eladrin caele Quor'She Kyed va e Fae Ath fiaen, desha reqiil! Ent meqiil ...

The Eladrin now claim you as one of their own, so rejoice! And despair ...

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What an amazingly delicious tongue Rick had. Although I wanted to keep kissing him, I simply couldn't ignore the fact that Figment had seen us. I placed my hand on Rick's chest and gently pushed him away.

He looked surprised and asked, "Did I do something wrong?"

I shook my head. "No, but Figment was standing in the hallway just now and saw us kissing."

Rick blew out his breath and grimaced. "I better go check on him."

"Should I come with you?" I asked.

"It's probably better if you don't. You understand, don't you?" He smiled apologetically.

"Of course," I replied, nodding my head.

Rick stood up, took a deep breath, and headed down the hallway. He was gone only a minute, then returned and sat down next to me.

"How is Figment?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Fine, as best I can tell. He's wearing his elf ears, sitting at his desk, drawing a picture and doesn't seem at all upset. You're sure you saw him in the hallway?"

"Yes. He was standing there, not ten feet away, watching us kiss. Then he smiled at me, turned around and walked away."

"I suppose there's only one conclusion we can make from that."

"Oh? What's that?" I asked.

"You've been accepted as a member of the Eladrin. Welcome to the Fey Elves of Colorado Springs."

I chuckled. "I'll have to find some plastic ears of my own."

Rick took my hand and pulled me down next to him. "You can do that later. Now where were we when we were interrupted?"

"Somewhere around ... here ..." I leaned in and kissed Rick on the cheek. "Or was it here?" I kissed his nose, which made him smile. "No, I remember now ... it was here." I kissed his lips, and felt his tongue trying to sneak into my mouth again.

Yes, his tongue was definitely as delicious as I remembered it.

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Rick's body was equally delicious.

I've had three serious lovers and a dozen casual encounters that led to semi-serious flings. Some were fun and thrilling. Others were more trouble than they were worth. None compared to what I experienced that night with Rick.

It started out achingly slow, standing in his room, simply kissing and touching each other with gentle, almost chaste caresses. He seemed unsure at first, pulling back every now and then and silently asking with his deep blue eyes if it was okay to touch my hip, my butt, my groin. I took it slow, not wanting to frighten him off, but I needn't have worried. The moment I slid my hand onto his crotch, he moaned and thrust back into my palm, showing me how horny he was. I squeezed the hard shaft stretching out toward his hip and silenced his moans with a sloppy kiss.

From that moment on, there was no hesitation. His hands were all over me, sliding inside my shirt to tweak my nipples, moving around to stroke my back, slipping inside my pants to grip my ass.

I didn't hold back either. My hand was inside his waistband, exploring his hairy pubes, grasping a cock that felt as long as mine, but a bit thicker.

Even stripping off our clothes wasn't awkward. He unbuttoned my shirt while I tugged his pants down. I slipped his shoes and socks off while he slid his pants down his legs, then he helped me undress as well. Soon we were lying on his bed, facing each other, tenderly caressing each other on the cheek, the neck, the chest.

"How are you feeling about this?" I asked.

He smiled and replied, "Like it's just what we both need."

And he was right. I hadn't realized it until that moment, but I'd lost confidence after Ryan left. It had hit me hard, making me feel old and rejected. I think I'd given up on myself just a little bit, and now, with Rick staring at me with desire in his gorgeous blue eyes, I felt young again. Needed. Wanted.

I kissed him one more time, and we got down to the very serious business of making love.

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I introduced the Altroterra family to Sheri and Mark the next night. Rick and I exchanged a very friendly hug, bringing a knowing smile to Sheri's face. I had never hidden my sexuality from our D&D group, and Sheri had been there for me when my ex-lover Ryan left. It had been a miserable week, starting out one glum Saturday morning with me weeping into my coffee and gradually degrading into a full-blown emotional breakdown. Sheri had never left my side, pulling me back from the brink of despair, and I'm sure I wouldn't have made it without her help. I suppose that's why she seemed so pleased and hopeful when Rick and I were openly hugging and exchanging a quick peck on the lips.

The boys seemed to take it all in stride. Trace rolled his eyes and mostly ignored us. Drew peeked sideways at us and giggled behind his hand. Figment smiled and wrapped his arms around both of us, hugging the two of us at the same time.

Sheri was thrilled to have new players in our group. She loved Drew's silly sense of humor and flirted with Trace, squeezing his biceps and making a not-so-subtle comment about barbarian muscles.

That didn't go over well with Mark. I didn't say anything, but I was certain there would be words exchanged between the two of them later.

As for Trace, he seemed to take Sheri's frisky behavior in stride. I'm sure he gets plenty of attention from the girls at school. He's a well-built and handsome young man, and judging by the bulge in his pants, well-endowed.

I led the way back to the table in a far corner of Mountain High Games. It was "our" table, where we played D&D every Friday night, and I had already set up for the evening game. I'd spread out a hex map on the table and set out small figures. A staff-wielding elf for Sheri's druid. A short, caped figurine holding two daggers for Mark's rogue. And a selection of other miniatures for the Altroterras to choose from.

Rick's choice was easy; there was only one warrior-type wielding a spear and shield.

Trace struggled to choose between the two dwarf figurines. One was swinging a hammer in both hands, but armored in plate mail. The other was bare-chested, but held a shield in one hand and a mace in the other. He eventually chose the unarmored dwarf as the closest to his barbarian in appearance.

I didn't have any dragonkin miniatures, but I had several wizard figures. Drew chose one dressed all in black.

And with that, we were set to begin.

I looked around the table at my D&D players, lowered my voice, and began weaving an introductory tale for that night's campaign. "Strangers enter the town just as the guards are closing and locking the gates for the night," I began. "One is a tall and noble elf, dressed in dark green armor embossed with patterns of leaves. Upon his head is a helm that seems to sprout antlers. His shield mirrors the early stars in the night sky. He is a paladin, a green knight, a defender of the natural world.

"Next to the elf, a mountain dwarf glowers and grumbles. He is powerfully muscled, stretching his leather armor with his broad chest and massive arms. His beard is braided. His eyes shine with battle lust. He carries a two-handed hammer and a grumpy attitude."

Trace rolled his eyes, trying not to smile.

I continued, "Standing just behind the dwarf and elf is a tall, hooded figure. Deep in the shadowy recesses of his hood, light seems to reflect off black scales, much like a lizard ... or a dragon. He is a dragonkin, one of those mysterious creatures, distant cousins to the dragons themselves, who are rarely seen, never trusted, and certainly not found in the company of a mountain dwarf barbarian and a high elf paladin.

"Three more unlikely companions the villagers have never seen. Why are they here? What do they want? Are they friendly? Perhaps. Are they dangerous? Definitely."

Drew giggled maniacally, wiggling his fingers before him as though casting a spell.

Figment leaned against my side, arranging the dice on the table by color and size.

I glanced at Sheri. "There is a druid in town. She has been receiving very disturbing visions of late, while praying and meditating. She knows the farmers outside the village have been losing livestock recently, often a cow or a sheep, during the depths of the night, and duck or two as well, with nothing left behind but a few feathers and a pile of duck poop."

Drew stifled a laugh. Even grumpy Trace grinned. Rick winked at me and smiled.

"The druid had just about decided to go investigate the disappearances herself, possibly taking along the only competent adventurer in the entire village, a rascal of a rogue, a gnome whose skill with daggers was only matched by his cleverness solving puzzles and picking locks. But when the three outsiders walked into town, she realized that they matched the three strangers in her last vision, a vision in which the five of them faced a nameless terror in the depths of the Grim Forest."

I looked around the table. "Who wants to be party leader? And what is your marching order?"

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Reluctantly, Sheri agreed to be party leader. She thought Rick should take on the duties, but Rick convinced her by pointing out she and Mark had more knowledge of the campaign we'd been playing. Sheri decided to put Rick's paladin and Trace's barbarian at the front in the party marching order. Mark's rogue and Drew's sorcerer would be next. Sheri placed her druid at the back, to guard the rear and provide healing spells as needed.

With those administrative matters settled, the party began the evening's adventure. I had planned that night's scenario to be a combination of a puzzle (solving the mystery of the disappearing livestock) with a dungeon (exploring a cave system filled with trolls and troglodytes). Mark, as always, loved piecing together the hints I dropped and guessing—correctly—that the trolls were under the control of a mad wizard. Trace seemed bored with the puzzles, but his eyes lit up when we finally entered into combat. His descriptions of the mayhem his barbarian visited on the cave dwellers had us all laughing, but the funniest moment of the night was when Drew cast a chain lightning spell, and with a glint in his eye, "accidentally" hit his brother's barbarian with one of the bolts.

Trace glared at Drew. "My barbarian is going to rip your sorcerer's arms off."

I didn't want the boys starting a fight within the party, so I decided to exercise a bit of what I called Dungeon-Master's-latitude. "Before you do, Trace, I should mention that your resistance to magic causes the lightning bolt, instead of striking you, to strike your dad's shield instead. It bounces off the shield and reflects back at Drew's sorcerer. Drew ... make a saving throw to dodge your own lightning bolt."

Drew rolled a twenty-sided die. It came up a 3. He laughed and said, "I failed. I open my mouth as wide as I can and eat my own lightning bolt."

We all laughed. I suggested we take a short break, which everyone enthusiastically endorsed. We'd been playing for almost two hours, and I needed to use the restroom and stretch my legs.

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When we gathered back from the break, I sat down and glanced through my notes for the next half of the adventure. Figment slid into my lap, looking up at me and smiling. So far, he'd watched me carefully, listening to the story and rolling the dice when I asked him to. I showed him the scrap paper where I kept track of damage taken by the monsters, explaining how many hit points the monsters began with, how to roll saving throws and how to halve the damage if they succeeded, and special features like a troll's ability to regenerate hit points every round, unless the damage was fire-based. Trolls don't like fire.

Before long, Figment was tracking damage for me, subtracting hit points as the party members whacked away at their opponents. He wiggled around on my lap, looking up at me and smiling joyfully. I glanced at Rick and saw him watching the two of us. Rick caught my eye and whispered, "Thank you."

I nodded and whispered back, "You're welcome."

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The night's adventure continued.

I decided at one point to throw a special quest at Trace. The party had found a locked door, which Mark's rogue had naturally tried to pick open. He'd failed—thanks to my DM-latitude, of course—and I mentioned that the door seemed to have a magical barrier holding it shut, an enchanted shield that could only be broken by a feat of great strength.

Trace jumped at the opportunity. "I'll bash it with my hammer."

"Roll a twenty-sider," I said, hoping for a good roll.

Trace rolled the die and shouted, "TWENTY!", pointing at the die in front of him.

I raised an eyebrow, pretended to be irritated, and said, "The magical barrier shatters into a million sparkling lights and the door opens, revealing a small pedestal with leather gauntlets resting on top. The gauntlets are adorned with trophies of combat ... fangs, claws, and teeth."

Trace didn't waste any time. "I grab them and put them on."

Drew giggled and said, "I hope it turns you into a troll."

Trace glared at Drew and turned to me. "What do they do?"

"They fit you perfectly," I replied. "And you feel more powerful than ever before. Increase your strength to nineteen."

"Fuck yeah!" Trace shouted.

"Trace!" Rick admonished.

"Sorry," Trace replied, ducking his head and biting his lips. He looked at me and said, "Thanks, Caleb."

I smiled and nodded.

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Figment seemed uncomfortable sitting in my lap. He kept moving from side to side, wriggling around. Naturally, all that scooting about gave me a small problem. Well ... not a small problem actually, but a large, rather hard problem.

Figment noticed almost right away. He reached behind him and felt my boner, squeezing it twice, then turned to look up at me and grin.

I grimaced and shifted him to one side so he was sitting more on one leg than in the middle of my lap.

Drew said, "I'm casting a disintegrate spell."

I tilted my head and asked, "Didn't you cast a chain lightning earlier?"

"Yes."

"Those are both sixth level spells, right?"

"Dang it," Drew replied, realizing the point I was making. "I'm don't have any more sixth level spells, do I?"

I shook my head. "Good try, though."

He grinned. "I'll cast a Hold Monster spell. I still have two fifth level spells left. Make your saving throw. My spell save is 15."

Without me asking, Figment rolled a twenty-sider. It came up 16. Figment turned to Drew and shook his head.

"It didn't work?" Drew asked.

Figment shook his head again.

"Dang it!" Drew exclaimed.

"The ogre lord shrugs off your feeble enchantment and charges you," I said, taunting Drew.

"I'll save you, bro," Trace said. "I turn and throw my hammer overhead at the ogre's head." He followed that up with a roll of a die. "NINETEEN," Trace shouted. "I think that's a hit."

I nodded. "Roll your damage."

Figment looked up at me and pointed at the scrap paper in front of us. His finger was on the ogre's remaining hit points. Only 8 left, but hopefully it would survive Trace's thrown hammer and wreck revenge on Drew's sorcerer.

Trace rolled an eight-sided die. "Five," he announced, "and with my new strength of 19, I get +4 damage, so make it 9 points."

I groaned. Figment giggled and drew a finger across his neck, making it clear that the ogre lord was dead, dead, dead. Trace cheered. Drew gave Trace a high-five slap. The party looted the ogre's den. Figment wiggled on my lap and squeezed my boner one more time.

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By the end of the evening, we were all exhausted but smiling. It had been a fun adventure, with a few near death-experiences to keep it exciting, a challenging puzzle solved, monsters smashed and loot gathered. Best of all, the party members were intrigued to learn that the wizard they'd killed at the end had a twin brother, who was fully aware of the mayhem the party had caused and intent on revenge. But that would have to wait until next Friday.

We gathered up our papers and stored the figurines and hex map in the locker the game store provided for our use. Then everyone said goodbye, thanking me for the fun night. Even Trace grudgingly admitted he had enjoyed the battles, especially with his new gauntlets of ogre power.

As we were leaving, Rick took me aside and softly asked, "I don't know if you had any plans, but I was wondering if you'd like to come over tonight."

I was only a little surprised to hear his invitation, and thanks to Figment rubbing against my boner all night, I was more than a little horny. "Are you sure, Rick?"

He nodded and smiled. "I appreciate everything you've done, Caleb. All the boys had an amazing time, and I want to express my appreciation to you in a personal way." He winked.

"I need to run by my place first. Get a few things."

"Pajamas? Change of clothes?"

I nodded, suddenly blushing.

He shrugged. "I don't plan to wear pajamas tonight, and I'm sure I can find something for you to wear in the morning."

"Okay," I replied. "You convinced me. I'll follow you to your house."

The boys didn't comment or even seem to care that I was spending the night again. When Rick opened the door at my knock, the boys walked up and greeted me. Figment gave me a hard hug, rubbing his cheek on my chest like a puppy. Drew hugged me too, then playfully pinched my butt. Even Trace, the stoic, dignified teenager, broke down enough to give me a hug and thank me once more for his barbarian's new gauntlets. Then Trace gathered up Drew and Figment, pulling them to his side and encouraging them to follow him. "Time for showers and bed, munchkins," he said.

Rick and I sat on the couch, waiting for them to leave the room, then leaned into each other and began playfully kissing. The friskiness didn't last long, however, but quickly morphed into heavy breathing and passionate embraces. By the time the boys finished their showers and turned off the hall lights, Rick and I were ready to head for his bedroom. We laughed like teenagers in love, running down the hall and chasing each other into his room.

Rick shut the door behind him and turned to ask me, "Are you ready for my `thank you' gift?"

I chuckled and reached up to stroke his cheek. "I'm the one who should be thanking you."

Frowning, he asked, "For what?"

"For drawing me out of the hole I was in. For making me feel alive again. For reminding me of what it's like to feel loved."

He didn't reply, but simply reached down and unbuttoned my jeans, pushing them down with my underwear. My cock flipped out, hard and throbbing, shiny on the top from precum. Rick knelt in front of me and began licking all around the cap. He ran a finger up the front of my cock, milking out another drop of clear liquid, and sucked it into his mouth. "Tasty," he mumbled, licking from the base of my cock to the end. "I've been wanting to suck on this since I saw you with a boner earlier."

I moaned and placed my hands lightly on each side of his head. "When did you see my boner?" I asked.

"At the game. When we took a break. You stood up and I could tell you had an erection."

I groaned. "Was it that obvious?"

He stopped licking long enough to nod and grin. "Figment caused it, didn't he?"

I gulped. I didn't want to admit that his youngest boy had been wriggling around in my lap so much that I popped a boner.

Rick smiled impishly and said, "It's okay, Caleb. He does it to me every time we're watching a movie together. He sits on my lap, wiggling around until I get hard, then he plays with it while we watch the movie. I think it's like a security blanket for him. A squeeze toy." Rick began slowly stroking my cock, which had begun to droop from apprehension. Rick sensed my nervousness and added, "It's no big deal, Caleb. He's ten. It's all part of growing up, and I never make a big deal out of sexual behavior when it comes to my boys. I don't want them developing weird hang-up's." He slid his mouth over the end of my cock and began sucking in earnest.

I stopped worrying about Figment and the way he'd been fondling my cock that night and began focusing on Figment's dad, who was fondling my balls with one hand, my butt with the other, and my cock with his tonsils. For a straight guy with three sons, he sure knew how to suck cock.

He must have read my mind, because he pulled off with a slurp and said, "Before I got married and had the boys, I was versatile in my dating habits. Spent as many nights in bed with guys as I did with girls. Learned to suck a mean dick." He moved his eyebrows up and down suggestively. "You like it so far?"

"Love it," I replied, urging him to continue.

He moved down to my balls, sucking each one in turn, then licked underneath, making me quiver when his lips latched onto my taint. He encouraged me to lie on my back on the bed, and then he lifted my legs and rimmed my pucker until I was slippery with his spit and delirious with desire.

He slipped two fingers inside me, pressing up into my prostate, making me groan. "You want me up in here?" he asked. "Making love to you? Making you shake and beg me to shove it in harder, deeper?"

I bit my lip and mumbled, "Yes, Rick. Make love to me."

He climbed on top of me, resting his chest against mine, and reached down to aim his cock at my hole. I felt him pressing slowly in, then my body relaxed and he penetrated me, making me gasp and cry out. Rick pressed his mouth onto mine, slid his hands down to my hips, and thrust forward, sliding fully into me. I sucked on his tongue, frantic with desire as he began thrusting in and out.

A deep, delightful ache began building in my guts, growing stronger each time I felt his cock pushing in, stretching me wider, filling me. I gripped his shoulders, pulling his chest tight against my own, and moaned into his mouth.

He pulled his head back, panting now, sucking in air as his hips slapped against my butt. A light sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead, his chest, his arms. He pounded me harder, faster, and I pushed back each time he pushed in, trying to force his cock as deeply as I could. I shouted, "I'm cumming!" and grabbed his ass with both my hands, pulling him against me. My cock throbbed between us, launching long strings of sticky cum, leaving streaks on my belly and chest. My ass clamped down on Rick's cock, spasming as my orgasm overwhelmed me.

With a shuddering gasp, he shoved himself in so deeply I felt his curly pubes mashing between his belly and my ass. He closed his eyes and groaned. His stomach muscles clinched. His ass flexed under my fingers. He gasped and fell down, sucking in air as he recovered from his own massive orgasm.

We waited, simply breathing, enjoying that sweet daze of post-orgasmic bliss.

And in the hallway, though I couldn't be certain, I thought I heard boyish giggles.

Rick must have heard it too, because he chuckled and said, "Well, we weren't exactly trying to be quiet, were we?"

"No," I admitted, "is it going to be a problem?"

Rick shook his head and then tenderly kissed me. "Not in the least. The boys understand, and you're a fey elf now, so they accept you."

I chuckled. "I still need to buy some plastic ears."

He shook his head. "These will work for now." He pinched my earlobe, then moved down to pinch my nipple, and slid his hand down to rub my leaking cock. "My turn?" he asked.

"I'll need a few minutes," I said with a grin.

"Take as long as you need," he replied.

We heard more giggles in the hallway. Rick turned his head and shouted, "Back in bed, guys!"

The giggling burst into muffled laughter that quickly retreated down the hall.

 

The end of Chapter Two of FIGMENT