Chapter 1 - Witcher Storm I

 I 

 Captain Geralt stood at the table with his crew down in the lower deck, discussing the plan to raid the merchant vessel the following day. 

 A single lamp swung wildly from the ceiling as the Exiled Moon rocked and pitched in the restless sea. It would swing back and forth, from Geralt to the other side of the table, leaving the one side shrouded in darkness. Each time it came towards him, all Geralt could see of the others were the monstrous flickers of light in their beady eyes. 

 They betray me for scraps, he realized. And they'd probably think it was the right thing to do. Pirate ethos and all. 

"Captain, I'm not sure this is a good idea," one of the men put in.

"And why is that?" 

"Attacking a sorceress on sea? It's raving mad! Just assuming she--"

"I'd suggest you stop worrying," Geralt cut in coolly. "We'll take the ship, and we'll come out of it in one piece. I can handle the sorceress. You worry about everything else, and leave her to me."

 Admittedly, he wasn't too thrilled about the job either. But the fears were largely unfounded. One could just as well end up going down in flames from a stupid lamp swinging its way off the chain and setting the hull ablaze as from the magic coming sparking off the fingers of a sorceress. 

 One of the crewmen to Geralt's side suddenly groaned and shook. He took the tankard from the table and took a deep cooling swig, beads of sweat dripping from his brow. 

 A moment later Geralt felt the fingers tugging at his belt. His turn had come again. He looked down once more to Triss, who went about on all fours under the table satisfying the men as they made plans. Her breasts dangled from her chest, all oiled up with their cum, while spatterings of seed glimmered all of her freckled face. Her green eyes shone as liquid gold as she took out Geralt's cock and began to kiss it and rub it over her face.

 Triss' official position was that of a healer. But the passing of the years revealed that she tended far better at keeping the captain's bed warm and keeping the crew nice and happy. Those full lips would open hungrily at the prospect of satisfying anyone. Without her to calm them all down, there was a serious chance that the atmosphere on the Exiled Moon would turn uncontrollably violent and sadistic. 

 You hardworking little slut, thought Geralt happily. He wasn't sure what he could do without her. But as his eyes rose to glance at the rest of the hesitant, anxious crew, their dejection weighed on his mood. Time to call it a night. 

 He bid them a good rest, then pulled Triss out from under the table, slung her over his shoulder and started on the way to his cabin.

"Why must you humiliate me like this?" asked Triss. 

"How is it humiliating?" 

"Because!" she said, her dainty feet kicking against his stomach.  

Geralt chuckled. "Considering all the things you beg me to do to you, I'm not sure you've got a right to complain about this." 

 He went into the cabin and dropped her on the king-sized bed, then went and lit the candles by the bedside. Their flickering light spread over the lofty cabin, illuminating the many trophies the witcher had collected over the years: bones, skulls, swords, shields, flags...

 Geralt went and barred the door, then cast his eyes towards Triss as she lay on the bed, her legs slightly parted. Her hefty breasts sagged down the sides of her torso, the nipples all hardened and ready. The green eyes with flecked with gold held him expectantly. 

"Well?" 

"Well what?" 

"Aren't we going to... you know."

 That was the smart thing to do. To fuck her till he passed out and have a good night's rest. But when have I ever chosen the easy route? "Do you feel worried about tomorrow?"

 Triss considered the matter for a few moments, then shrugged with indifference. "Not particularly."

"Sorceresses don't scare you?" 

 She snorted grimly and ran a hand through her messy hair. "If you don't scare me, no one will." 

 Geralt grimaced. Just what was that supposed to mean? And here I was thinking we were close.
  
 He began to strip away his clothes, his gaze taking in her impatient frown. She stared at his scarred and muscular torso. All this time, and she's still not used to it.  

 But as soon as he dropped his pants and stepped out of them, her look went down and affixed itself to his monstrous cock. Triss gaped at the way his thick and veiny shaft hung between his thighs, swinging proudly as he walked towards the bed. The strong cock of a man that could and had fucked anything worth his attention that crossed his path. A witcher's cock that never let up.  

 The only real cock to be found, thought Triss wistfully. 

 The fact that she had just spent the evening sucking the rest of the crew dry only brought Geralt's size and strength into perspective. Not one of them was even half as long, not to mention the fear-inspiring girth and the powerful veins that branched over its surface. Each time she tried to wrap her hand around it, she could feel the steely strength that lay beneath its soft and warm skin.

 No matter what other job she could've found, nothing could be a sweeter deal than sharing her nights with a man like Geralt. 

 She looked up and found his flashing eyes. His hand came down to stroke her face and caress her hair, touching her lips with his rough fingers... Triss trembled with exhilaration. Many might've assumed Geralt to be a crazed mutant or a feral beast. At times, perhaps he could be. But few knew her as she did, as a fair and just man, and one that could be more tender and loving than a prince when he wished to be. 

 A perfect man, despite not being one.

 Triss ran her nails down his hard abs, then traced them down the length of his kingly rod. She wrapped her tiny hand around as much as she could and began to stroke him, pulling down the foreskin to reveal a glistening head. 

 Her lips went in and kissed it, wrapping themselves around it, letting the sweet taste of his precum fill her mouth and waken all of her senses. Geralt might've had his potions, but Triss had his cum. 

 She sucked him off with all the experience she had gained over her years of service on the Exiled Moon, bringing him into the wet vacuum warmth of her mouth, using her fingers to massage his balls as she pushed the shaft past her tongue and into her tight and throat. 

 Triss struggled to breathe through her nose as his huge cock stretched out her jaw, leaving herself into Geralt's hands as he pushed her down the last few inches and held her against the base of his shaft. The stuffed throat tightened and nearly caused her to gag. But Triss held it down, doing her best to make him proud. She even pushed her tongue out, reaching down with it to stroke at his balls as Geralt choked her and brought her rolling eyes to tears. 

"You're doing well, Triss," he told her, stroking the bottom of her chin in a way that sent tingles all the way to her pussy. Wasn't this what it was all for? For his love and appreciation?

 Geralt pulled it back a couple of inches, tickling the walls of her throat, then grabbed onto her hair and began to fuck the deepest region of her throat as fast and as hard as he could, smashing her nose into the base again and again.

 Triss gurgled weakly as the drool and a slimy bit of vomit left her mouth, surrendering entirely to his guiding hands and tightening the walls of her throat as much as she could to give him the best experience possible. 

 Geralt brought her down one more time, pushing upwards with his hips, hitting her deeply enough to send an uncontrollable spasm down her curvy body and activate the gag reflex. Triss came off of it expelling spit, cum, and her insides, shaking and coughing, the bones of her rib cage visibly protruding.

 She could feel his finger tracing down the middle of her spine, sending electrifying bolts shooting down to her slopping wet and quivering pussy. 

"We can take a break if you want."

"I don't need a break!" cried Triss. All I need is your cock. 

"Have it your way," said Geralt, slamming her face down into the bed and positioning himself behind her. He spread her legs wide and massaged his shaft along the wet lips of her pussy. Then he slid inside.

 Triss closed her eyes and bit on the sheets in pure bliss of feeling him in there once more. It hadn't even been a day since Geralt last fucked her, but she could never get enough of it. In the past, she could've gone for weeks or months without sex of any kind. Now she couldn't feel whole unless Geralt went deep inside her and stayed there, filling up all the repressed coldness in her heart with his hot seed. 

 No one fucked her as he did. Rough but methodical. Other men were rough too, but in the stupid drunken way where they'd slap the girl around, and then shove their tiny dicks inside for a few thrusts before either spilling or having it leave the hole without even noticing. Geralt on the other hand held firmly onto her hips, his thumbs pressing into her soft asscheek, striking at her insides with precision and expertise. 

 Triss could feel herself melting in his hands, her whole body submitting to that gorgeous physique and that beautiful cock. She groaned and moaned in response to his fucking, letting him know that every bit of energy spent on her was most appreciated.

 Don't ever stop...

 Geralt looked down as he fucked her from behind. At the way her freckled breasts pressed against the bed and how her wide and round ass rose from her small waist up to meet him. It smacked against him as he took her, the pale flesh jiggling wildly, the crowning dimples inked out by deep shadows.

 Nothing felt more welcoming than a warm and soft pussy, and Triss provided one of the finest. Perhaps on purpose, perhaps instinctively, she managed to tighten her hold on his cock at just the right time, as if to hold him inside by force for a little longer. 

 Geralt wondered how a person like him could deserve any of this. How it could be that any woman worthwhile that crossed his path ultimately ended up face down and ass up in his bed. What had he ever done to deserve such blessings? Of course, even this random thought and callback to morality might've been misplaced, as well as his judgment. But as he smashed his way into Triss sweet, sweet insides, he couldn't help but feel as one of the luckiest. 

 For a witcher, especially.  

 He wondered why he always fucked them all from behind. Was it to keep the illusion that he only did it with one of them? That he should feel no guilt? That this was simply a bodily need that needed to be fulfilled, and left completely impersonal? 

 As Triss grew weaker Geralt put an arm under her and held her up, increasing the rate of his thrusts and pummeling her with the savagery she always begged for. He slowly wound up making his way on top of her, wrapping his arms under her armpits and locking a hold behind her neck, while his legs kept hers spread as wide as possible. 

 He pressed into her with all his weight and force, fucking her tight pussy with his ripping shaft, feeling her worm and scream under him as he fought past the final defenses her sensitive insides had left. Triss punched at the bed and kicked, losing all control, screaming as her pussy began to unleash a torrent of an orgasm. 

 Geralt could feel her vibrating under him as she came, crying with joy into a pillow as her body relaxed and accepted the earthquake of an orgasm that rent through her womanly body. He lowered his head next to hers and gave her a kiss on the cheek, taking a deep breath of her sweet-scented hair, then let loose and spilled all of his seed inside of her. 

 Some time after, Triss cuddled his chest with the candles blown out, circling her nails over his pec. "Can I tell you a secret?" 

 Geralt kept his eyes closed but patted her head gently. "You can tell me anything."

"I am worried about tomorrow, but only for you."

 Oh, yes. The sorceress. To think he had almost forgotten about that and gone into a peaceful sleep. We couldn't have that, now could we? 