A Break from the Unicorn – Celebrities & Fan Fiction


The stuffed Unicorn sat in its corner of her lavish room, the highest tower of course nothing else would do.

Yen gently brushed its mane, working out the knots and smoothing the coat with fine oils. She’d gotten in it such a state while she and Geralt were astride it the evening prior.

It takes practice to fuck on horseback, but she’d not have it any other way with him.

It allowed her to fully be in control. Without her, he’d have fallen off before she’d gotten undressed.

No, this was the best way. She could put him exactly how she wanted him, in every way she wanted. He would have to obey if he wanted to avoid another twisted ankle or sprained wrist. The only other way out of injury was to simply not lie with her, that would not be happening soon.

She inhaled deeply, the tart and sweet smell of lilac and gooseberry oil. The same one she wore.

The Unicorn was almost perfect. The slight damages were fixed but wouldn’t be set for tonight.

She wouldn’t be able to mount it with Geralt for a few more days. Unless she wanted it breaking again.

No, there had to be a way.

Fuck!”

She exclaimed, yes fuck, though THAT is one thing that certainly won’t be happening anytime soon.

The bed, she glanced over. No, he’d have her in there. She needed to think, something to keep her comfortable and him busy.

She remembers the trick that she and unbeknownst to her Triss has also taught him, it kept him busy and quiet, and it also allowed her to be fully relaxed without holding onto anything.

She gazed around the room again, lots of places, but all either not comfortable enough for her, or too so for him. Her eyes catch on the low chairs but the balcony, low and comfortable, the angle slightly off though, but workable, although the seat would need work. She walked over and sat down taking parchment and charcoal with her. She had time and started to sketch one-handed, the other hand working its way lower on her body. Inspiration struck her.

The city was famed for its carpenters, and she was nothing if not innovative.

Gealt would be gone another few nights yet. She had time and a lot of ideas.

The chair was perfect, deep ebony and black leather, finished with silver.

Padding on the seat and rests to hold on to.

It was low to the ground enough for its purpose, but tall enough for her comfort. The elven blood added a few inches to her height.

The Carpenter had been kind enough to add a pillow that could lay under it.

If he was polite when he got home she was sure she’d consider letting Geralt use it. Maybe.

She was sure the carpenter suspected what it was for, she had a reputation for not being shy and getting her way.

She was on top of everything, lovers included.

She dragged it near the window overlooking the mountain pass into Aedrin and the court of king Virfuril. Here she had the perfect view of the pass into the kingdom and city, the exact path the witcher would need to take on his return to the castle and her bedchamber.

The morning he was due to return she drew a bath for herself. Adding her scented oils and taking a long deep soak, drifting off into a light sleep.

She woke as the water had turned from near scalding to pleasantly warm.

Wrapping a towel around her waist alone she got about her company, shaving and applying creams to her skin, gently drying off and adding makeup, light purples and smoky black to compliment her eyes and hair.

She finished and went over to her wardrobe, a walk-in one converted from the next room over, she had insisted on it to every last detail.

Her outfit had also been custom-made for today by the dressmaker, putting orders on hold for her own last-minute fancy as a common occurrence that she paid for highly.

Long sheer stockings embroiled with moons and ravens in flight, a black and silver corset starting just above her navel and ending just cupping her breasts, the piece had cutouts designed to show off what she needed the piece was finished with locks. Heels as at all times, black plain and high, the final addition was underwear, silk panties that showed more than they hide, a favourite pair of hers which she had often worn under a dress to royal company, the parts just between her legs had been artfully cut out.

The idea came after she grew sick of Gealt tearing hers off in his usual lack of patience and sense.

She lay back in her chair, one leg propped up. In anticipation of his arrival, she had abstained from herself the last few days, it had only frustrated her but in a way she had enjoyed it. Today was not a day for frustrations.

Moving her hand delicately down her body she starts to pinch and twist at her nipples, tugging lightly with her right hand and moving the left one lower down her body, over her stomach and down between her legs. She felt wet already, the sudden feeling of her own fingers caused her to gasp. Worth the wait.

Her eyes shut tight, her lip caught between her teeth she slowly worked in and out of herself, softly moaning and twitching, feeling her toes curl as she moved from right breast to left, even along this chair was perfect for her.

She had all but exhausted her hands, and had an itch for something more.

It was a basic thing, somewhat phallic and crude in principle but in design, it was a beauty.

Carved from Holly with detail finished in ebony, it was a replica of a phallus and perfect to her down to every detail. The perfect size and girth, the detail embossed enough to run, strike and caress every nerve it touched. If she could make herself the perfect man from scratch, this would lie between his legs.

Her leg propped up higher she held her latest project between her legs, artfully thrusting and lightly twisting with one hand, the other hand lightly pressing just above making her squeak and moan in a high voice.

She felt her face redden as she pushed deeper and grew wetter.

There was a knock at the door, she turned, putting her secret to one side on the dresser table, making so the effort to hide it nor cover herself.

“Come.” She called, the door swung open a girl came in, her early twenties by her look.

“Oh Ma’am, I…-” She stopped herself as turned.

“I am My Lady, not Ma’am, and you have no need to turn away. I refuse to hide in shame when in the comfort of my apartment. I worked too hard to be ashamed of all that I earned.” The mage said, slight scorn in her voice, it was not the first attendant to walk in and would not be the last.

All female staff was on her list of demands, she found them quicker to adjust. Although calling on a male attendant on days she wanted to flaunt was not out of the question.

“The witcher has been sighted my lady, just outside of the pass. They expect him within the hour.”

“Good, I expect the journey has been long with little time for wading into a mountain stream, ‘Bathing’ he calls it.” She turns to face her, watching her attendants’ eyes fixate on her.

“Take him to his chambers for a bath, I insist on it. Make sure whatever proof he has is brought to the King, the witcher need not do it himself I have business with him. After his bath, he is to be brought straight to me. Oh and tell him the bath is not optional. He is not to set foot inside this chamber without it, he can be shaved as well, a close shave.”

“Yes, my lady.” She curtseyed and left.

She had an hour then, enough time for another bath.

It was past midday when she heard the door knock again.

She had washed and had the room cleaned, her outfit was the same as this morning, a quick hand wash and dry in the summer sun to leave it fresh. The fragrance of lilac and gooseberries hung heavy on her. Dapped on her neck, wrists and between her thighs.

“Come.” She called.

“That it? I’ve been gone a fortnight and I get a ‘Come’ and an order for a bath, I haven’t even the chance to speak to Virfuril before your minions dragged the Bruxa’s head from me and forced a razor to my neck.”

“Oh please, you never liked your beard and would have shaved if given time, and as for the head Virfuril will know it’s from you, few else can kill a higher vampire.”

“I don’t even get a welcome?” His voice was gruff and annoyed.

“Welcome, now happy?”

“Happier seeing you.” He walked and hugged her tight, kissing her neck and moving to her lips, they kissed deeply as hands explored each other.

His found their way to her ass, giving firm squeezes and soft caresses, hers had already unbuttoned his tunic and had his britches down to his ankles.

How was the hunt, are you hurt, what was the beast, where did you discover it, how and where and what and who were not mentioned. Nothing was mentioned, there would be time for questions later. Now was the time for a reunion.

“Lay here!” Yen declared, pointing to the floor and the pillow that lay under her chair, she had moved it closer to the window, her view would not be spoiled, nor would the view of those in towers nearby.

“On the chair?”

“No!”

Geralt grumbled and lay down, pulling himself under the chair, his head resting on the black pillow.

“Now why don’t you take a seat?” He raised an eyebrow and patted at his crouch, winking up at her.

She walked across and laid her stockinged foot on his manhood, feeling it begin to swell under her as she pressed firmer. Her foot twisted as she smirked down, waiting for the witcher to wipe the smug grin from his face before she did it for him.

“No, I have my own seat.”

She moved back around to her chair, pulling off the cushion and false bottom, looking down at the bewildered witcher. Now it was her scarlet lips turned up in a wry smirk and her violet eyes winking down at him.

She stepped over, having one leg on either side of his chest as she lowered into the seat. The padding allowed her comfort despite the gap below her, she could feel herself blushing and growing wet with anticipation.

“Well, I think you can find your purpose, this will have to do until the unicorn is set and it gives me a break from bareback.”

“At least I haven’t got to hold-“

“Surely you can find a better use for your mouth, I had you shaved for a reason Geralt.”

She lay back, and Geralt got to work.

She lowered herself down as he lifted his head every so slightly, their lips brushing together, she shivered and he smiled. She felt the twitch in his muscles as he grinned and parted his lips.

Geralt gently teased and tested her, his tongue flicking back and forth over her lips and teasing her, hitting just below her sweet spot every time, making her wetter and more frustrated with him.

Yen let out soft moans and tightened her grip on the leather arms, her eyes shut tight as she gently moved her hips back and forth.

Geralt lay back into the pillow as Yenna lowered herself, he stretched his jaw up and closed his lips around her and softly sucked and pulled, teasing, edging, tasting with every movement as she moaned and let out soft squeaks, sounds she only made in his business.

As he worked he started to lick upwards, again just missing where she was craving, it was at all times a game between these two.

“Fucking. Find. It. or so help me I’ll-“

He licked hard and sucked, it was so sudden the air left Yenna and all she could do was yell a curse, a string of profanities enough to make a Temerian sailor blush red.

His ears filled with a mix of common and elvish and she writhed above him.

All he could make out were ‘Fuck, Geralt, Harder, Gods’.

He reach up and grabbed the chair arms, lifted his torso up fully pushing into her, making Yenna jump.

“Geralt, oh, i. It” She was silenced fast as she bite down on her lip.

The elixirs coursing through Geralt’s veins allowed him to hold himself up without so much as a strain, he could hold this for hours and not break a sweat. Yen, however, might not last another minute.

Yen moaned and writhed on the hair, her nails digging into the leather, toes curly as she threw her head back.

“F..f..fu.fu..ye.yes.”

She made an attempt to lift herself, to relieve pressure, as she rose and took a deep breath that was quickly forced out of her by the witcher rising higher and again running his tongue over her with all the accuracy his cat eyes could manage. Pulling himself higher he reached and pulled her down into the chair hard, making it and her shake.

He slowed down, letting her catch her breath. She brushed the hair from her face and signed, taking deep breaths. She was sweating and flushed. She hadn’t felt like this since long before he had left for his hunt, the night the unicorn had broken in fact.

She had to regain her control, she wouldn’t let this become a game he could win.

He pulled out from under her and their eyes meet, his face was red, his jaw wet and shiny, and he smirked up at her, a cocky look in his eyes.

“Huh, you like that? Triss always said -“

“You finish that sentence or even that THOUGHT, and I can make your position even less comfortable!”

“Oh and how?”

“I’ll make you STRAIN for it, the chair can be raised!” She growled. A fire started inside her, he was playing her, and she had no intention of letting him keep it up.

“I can pull myself up until you can’t stand, I don’t even need the pillow, my arms won’t start to ache until sun up.” She didn’t doubt him, even though it was not yet dusk.

She gritted her teeth and reached down, the chair could indeed be raised. But it could also go down, just like a certain witcher she knew.

She stood on unsteady legs and bend over the witcher giving him a full view of her breasts and she twisted knobs and pulled, the chair base slowly grinding down.

“Hey, wait!”

She ignored him and sat back down, no longer needing to pull up Geralt found their lips both just touching from his position.

As he gently started to lick and suck, working his lips over her sweet spot, he felt something slide over his chest.

Yen gently stroked his chest and down to his stomach with her feet, the silk of her stockings sliding over the rough scared chest of the witcher. It was the softest thing he ever felt on his body.

Her long legs artfully traced over long battle scars, her mind racing imagining which tooth, claw, blade or talon made each.

Her feet found his cock, throbbing and hard. She laughed.

“Ha, aw Geralt dear you like this seat, I should use it more often if it gets you this hard.”

He muffles a response as she starts to rub against his cock, her toes caressing his head as the soles of her feet rub against his shaft.

She feels her toes grow wet. “Tut, tut, you’re making such a mess of my stockings, dripping all over them. You better not ruin them, you know you aren’t allowed to finish until I have at least twice.”

He mumbled again, “I am going to give you the benefit of the doubt that that was a ‘Yes Miss’ and not a complaint.!”

She wiggled herself, moaning softly as she ground into the witcher’s face, one hand reaching up to cup and squeeze her breast, the other to steady herself.

She squeezed harder, loving how firm and filling she left in her own hand, as her manicured fingers found their way to her nipple. Gently and then much more firmly pinching and pulling, causing her to gasp.

On her own terms, the pain was different, she’d not let men, women or elf pinch, slap or smack her. It wasn’t for them. For her, few things were better. She knew what she wanted and how to do it right.

Geralt’s strong arms reached over the chair, his hands resting on Yenna’s soft thigns as he buried his face in deeper. Yen felt him licking and swallowing under her, every movement sending a shudder down her spine, she was so sensitive. It was taking all her will to stay focused and not become the hot moaning mess she craved, not yet.

Geralt’s tongue ran over her clit softly at first, them firmer, pressing in as he closed his lips around hers.

Yen was squirming, her legs twitching as she bite her lips and shut her eyes tight.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She moaned and gripped the chair tight, a string of curses followed though whether common or elvish was not known.

She stretched her legs out hard and moaned out as she finally came after days of waiting.

Her whole body shook with pleasure as Geralt’s licking slowed and Yen started to catch her breath, her makeup was running, and her hair was a mess. The scent of lilac and gooseberry still clung to the air but an underlying smell of sweat and sex. She didn’t care, for once she wanted to stay as she was in every way, down to the gentle licks over her lips.

Yen started to rub at Geralt’s feet harder, her damp soles now dripping as she worked around his head and shaft with her feet.

Geralt was moaning under her, she felt his lips move and his hot breath on her.

“You’re being so good to me, you want to keep it that way right, go on, don’t stop.”

Yen moaned again.

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