After some time, when the sun reached its highest peak and shielded her under the shade of the orange tree, she finally broke the tranquil quiet.
“Weldir? Are you still there?”
“I never left.”
She nibbled on her lower lip. “Thank you for letting me help Londinium, and consequently many other cities and towns.”
“You’re welcome, Lindiwe. I don’t wish for the humans to perish, same as you.” He also had no issue aiding her in her endeavours, and he hoped she leaned on him more in the future. “Where are you now, if not near Londinium?” he asked, unable to tell when much of Earth’s environment appeared similar.
She could be all the way in Austrális, for all he knew.
“Near Orange. It’s a town in Francia.”
“Is that far from where we last spoke?” Weldir asked.
Her shoulders turned inwards, and she looked around nervously while chewing her bottom lip. “A little? It’s actually across the water and on a different land not too far.”
“I wasn’t expecting you to leave there...” But he wasn’t stunned that she’d flown so far, considering her wings. “I don’t have any offspring on that continent yet.”
Which was something they should change soon. Eyropea was large and encompassing many countries like Francia and Polen, much like the Middle Eastern lands.
As if sensing where his mind had gone to, she tucked her seed-filled handkerchief into her bag, and asked, “Is it possible for you to fix my cloak? My flight is unsteady with so many missing feathers.”
Weldir looked away from a tainted soul to the disc and found her awkward gaze roaming everywhere – as if she wanted to avoid him. She didn’t know from which direction he was watching her, and the playful side of him was tempted to follow her eyes’ motions to always be before her.
He didn’t, as that was a waste of his time and efforts.
“Of course, Lindiwe. All you need to do is bring me more feathers. We can then bring another servant to life in the very place you currently rest your feet and wings.”
Her nose crinkled before a deep groan croaked from her.
Weldir almost laughed at her reaction but wisely kept himself quiet.One day I would like to truly tease her.But he didn’t think she would be receptive to such attention welcomingly just yet. Or maybe never, depending on if she ever came to see him as anything but a god that asked much from her.
November 3rd, 1732
Lindi’s toes curled when she felt Weldir’s tendril leave her pussy, and she tried, and failed, to stop herself from grimacing. She squirmed like usual as she snapped her legs closed, doing everything in her might to avoid looking at him.
With her cheeks and ears so hot she feared her head would combust, she croaked, “Do we have to do it this way every time?”
Turning physical, she reached for her trousers and donned them quickly, ignoring how the seams on the inner thighs were so thin from chafing that they were threatening to unravel. She’d lost many pants from split seams and frayed material from her strong thighs rubbing.
As she continued dressing, her eyes followed the retreating dark tendril, and she cringed at her own wetness on it before it dispersed in a puff of mist.
“How else should we do it?” Weldir asked plainly, as if what she insinuated wasn’t obvious.
It doesn’t seem like he cares for desire.He’d never attempted it with her.
In the beginning, Lindi had actually been relieved about that. She hadn’t wanted to be close to someone she felt no affection for, and who obviously didn’t truly care for her in return.
But, as their many years together passed, her body was dying on the inside. It craved touch, to the point that even a subtle feeling of someone’s knuckles brushing against the back of her hand felt naughty. She wanted someone, anyone, to hold her in an embrace, to be teased with light caresses or even hard kisses.
She couldn’t believe he was making her spell this out to him!
“You know,” she grumbled, her face somehow growing hotter as she rubbed her upper arm awkwardly. “Sex? Your tendril feels weird, like a worm.”
So often the Anzúli said she came across as candid and assertive, yet her gaze fell to his partially visible face with shyness. It allowed her to see the way his brows furrowed, as if what she asked was absurd.
“A worm?” A new tendril appeared, just so he could wiggle the tip of it... much like one of those little creatures.