horse riding
Draven carried Alice on his back, strutting around the arena amidst a deafening roar of cheers, whistles, and jeers. He could clearly feel the heavy yet incredibly soft weight on his shoulders, like a lost treasure rediscovered. Alice excitedly grabbed his hair, her giggles ringing in his ears.
"Xiao De! Xiao De is the best!" Her shouts were exactly the same as those of the little girl sitting on the dilapidated cart more than 20 years ago.
Draven's smile grew even more blatant, his vanity satisfied like never before. He even deliberately freed one hand to slap those incredibly elastic, alluringly curved buttocks hard, the crisp sound and suggestive gesture immediately igniting even more frenzied screams and whistles from the audience.
He was thoroughly enjoying the feeling—the ecstasy of regaining what he had lost, and the glory of being the center of attention, were perfectly intertwined at this moment, as if this was the pinnacle of his life.
Finally, amidst a deafening roar that nearly lifted the roof off the arena, he retreated into the dimly lit contestant tunnel. The clamor was quickly shut out behind him, and the tunnel fell silent instantly, leaving only their somewhat rapid breathing and his own heart pounding like a drum.
He practically half-carried, half-embraced her as he led her into the private, luxuriously decorated, even somewhat ostentatious, lounge. The heavy door clicked shut behind them, completely cutting off the last trace of outside sound.
The lounge was filled with the mixed scent of sweat and some cheap perfume. The living room floor was cluttered with axe props used in performances, spare costumes, half-empty bottles of liquor, and several empty glasses. He had brought different women back to this place more than once for brief and superficial encounters.
He carefully placed Alice on the large, soft bed in the bedroom, a bed specially made for comfort. Only now, in this relatively private space, did he have the opportunity to truly examine her closely.
"Alice...is it really you?" His voice trembled without him even realizing it. He reached out and touched her cheek with almost reverent touch. The touch was warm and real, which made his eyes well up with tears.
“It’s me, Xiao De!” Alice’s arms immediately wrapped around his neck like soft vines, she practically hung on him, rubbing her cheek against his stubble, her voice filled with pure dependence, “I missed you so much!”
“I…I missed you too…” Draven almost instinctively tightened his arms, holding her tightly, tightly in his embrace, as if trying to meld her into his very bones to confirm that this was not an illusion. Alice stayed obediently in his arms, motionless, just like when she was a child, relying on him.
However, after the initial excitement of the reunion subsided, Draven's gaze involuntarily swept across the room—disorganized bottles of liquor, a fragrant silk scarf in the corner that didn't belong to him… This place, and the women he had brought back… All of this made him feel disgusted and ashamed.
His Alice should be a pure, unblemished treasure; he should not bring her to this filthy place.
His treasure deserves the best! What he needs to do now is fulfill his childhood promise to give her the best things and the purest enjoyment! He will take her to the most luxurious restaurants, buy her the most beautiful dresses, and parade her around town, showing her off to the entire Immortal Fortress!
"Come on, Alice, I'll take you out for a walk." He gently pushed her away, supporting her shoulders, wanting to stand up and take her away from this place that was unworthy of her.
But Alice wouldn't have it. It had been a very, very long time since she'd seen Draven, and the joy and dependence she felt upon their reunion were at their peak. When Draven pushed her away, though lightly, she instinctively clung to him like a piece of chewing gum.
"I want to ride a big horse!" she shouted, leaping onto Draven's back from behind.
Draven felt two extremely soft and elastic objects pressed tightly against his back. His mind went blank for a moment, leaving only one thought: These breasts... incredible... His body reacted much more honestly than his brain, and his body, which was sitting on the edge of the bed, subconsciously bent over to cooperate.
Alice nimbly stood up from the bed and expertly straddled his neck. The next moment, her plump, smooth, creamy thighs were wrapped around the sides of his neck, her warm, soft flesh pressed tightly against his cheeks, ears, and even the tip of his nose could smell a trace of her unique scent.
This was even more dangerous! Draven felt a surge of blood rushing to his head, and he immediately and uncontrollably stood up with a "whoosh"—not his own body standing up!
He began to panic, his mouth going dry. His large hands instinctively grabbed the legs straddling his neck, trying to push them away to alleviate the agonizing sensation. However, the moment his palms touched them, the smooth, delicate skin, the vibrant elasticity and warmth, left him unsure whether to loosen his grip or not—in the end, not only did he not loosen it, but his fingertips, driven by his old lecherous instincts, uncontrollably rubbed against it a couple of times.
...I'm such a damn idiot! He cursed himself inwardly.
He tried to remain calm, speaking in a coaxing tone, his voice slightly muffled by his face being pressed between his thighs: "Alice, baby, can you get down first?"
"I don't want to!" Alice playfully kicked his firm belly with her little leg hanging on his chest.
Draven gasped; the slight touch felt like adding fuel to the fire. He suppressed his agitation and continued to coax, "Get down first, I'll take you out for delicious food and buy you lots and lots of pretty dresses..."
"Little De, this thing of yours is so prickly! It's uncomfortable!" Alice kicked the studded chain on his leather chest armor with her toes curiously.
"Okay! I'll take them off right away!" Draven's attention was immediately diverted, and she hurriedly began to dismantle all the sharp-edged decorations on her body that might hurt her.
As he was picking, it suddenly dawned on him—wait a minute! Why the hell am I starting to take my clothes off?! This isn't right!!
“Alice, listen to me…” He tried to steer the conversation back on track.
“And this…” Alice’s little feet kicked another spiked armband on his arm.
“Okay…” Draven responded almost reflexively, his hand instinctively reaching for the armband again.
After all that fuss, almost all the shiny, sharp ornaments on his body had been removed, even his custom-made, luxurious belt with its menacing skull buckle had been tossed aside. Yet, he still couldn't coax Alice off his neck. At this point, he was practically half-naked—his upper body was reduced to wearing only the fur shoulder armor still draped over his shoulders.
"What the hell am I doing..." Draven cried out in a state of utter confusion. He looked at his comical reflection in the mirror, with a giggling "culprit" perched on his neck.
"Fine!" he thought, resigned to his fate. "Let her ride! She's Draven's precious darling, what's wrong with her riding him! At worst, I'll just buy her the most impressive and comfortable mount in the entire continent as soon as we go out!"
So he took another deep breath and used the gentlest tone he had ever used to coax women: "Alice, how about I take you out to play? We'll go to the market, and you can buy whatever you want!"
This time, Alice didn't interrupt him. She happily replied, "Okay! Giddy up!"
Draven, feeling like he'd been granted a pardon, quickly pulled his bulging wallet from the bedside table and stuffed it into his pocket. He then placed his hands on her smooth thighs again, carrying her like a rare treasure, and headed towards the door connecting the bedroom and living room. As he walked, he tried to negotiate with his "little darling" on his neck: "How about I buy you a new mount later? Do you prefer a tall horse or a majestic chocobo?"
Alice, perched on the neck, was displeased! No more hugs, and now she can't even ride me?! She immediately pouted, stretched her arms out high, and gripped the crossbeam above the door frame tightly, hanging from it like a koala, refusing to leave.
"No! I want to ride Little De!! I want to!!" She started to act spoiled, her voice trembling with aggrieved tears.
When Draven saw her familiar tantrum, memories of being "tortured" by her in his childhood, yet finding them sweet, flooded back, and he was amused. Seeing Alice clinging to the doorframe, he deliberately squatted down with a mischievous grin, hoping she would lose her strength and fall down.
"Oh dear, it's going to fall! Let go or not? Let go now!" He deliberately swayed his body.
"Ah!!! No!!" Alice screamed, instinctively squeezing her legs together to try and support herself.
"Pfft—!" Draven's entire face was almost instantly crushed and deformed. A scent mixed with a girl's body fragrance and a faint sweetness wafted over him, almost suffocating him—both physically and psychologically.
“Love… Alice… baby… loosen… loosen a little… don’t squeeze so tight… pfft…” His voice was muffled and unclear as he struggled to breathe.
At this moment of utter chaos and ambiguity—
"Bang!"
The door to the lounge was suddenly pushed open from the outside!
Kled, riding Skaarl and looking impatient, and Tamara, the war stonemason sent by Darius, appeared at the gate!
Kled, worried that something had happened to the foolish human woman, had been searching for her all this way, and happened to run into Tamara, the war stonemason who was also looking for Draven, at the door. The two pushed open the door, and this was the scene that greeted them:
Draven was like a mandarin fish with its upper jaw hooked—and his mouth was indeed upturned—and Alice, clinging desperately to the doorframe, was that hook. Draven was kneeling on the ground, disheveled, his face flushed (whether from lack of oxygen or excitement, it was hard to tell), struggling and thrashing about. The scene was very much like the adult games popular in some underground clubs.
Kled glanced at Draven's clearly aroused area, then at his "enjoyed" expression, shook his bald head, and decisively yanked the reins of Rascal:
"Let's go, Skaar! Looks like everything's alright! What a waste of my worry! That bastard's having a blast!"
Tamara... Tamara didn't utter a single word from beginning to end. But the disdainful look she gave Draven before leaving said it all...
"No...it's not...what you think..."
Everything happened so fast that Draven's oxygen-deprived brain couldn't even process it. He futilely stretched out a hand, trying to explain that it was a misunderstanding, that he wasn't that kind of person, but the door slammed shut again.
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