New experience for Josh & a shocking revelation.
Light filtered in through a huge window in one side, over which the waterfall poured, near enough that I could have thrust my hand through the opening and touched the stream.
"This is one of several inner sanctums," said Pilot. "Open only to those with royal ranks and rights."
"Wow," I said. When I tore my gaze away from the view, I saw Pilot looking at me with a similar expression of wonder.
He took three slow steps toward me, crossing the gap between us.
"Now," he murmured, his mouth just inches from my ear, "Now, won't you relieve yourself?"
To be honest, I didn't possess the need -- and I told him so. His face fell, just slightly. I wondered if he was disappointed...if, as an untrained foreigner, I wasn't living up to the standards of typical citizens. The Queen seemed to produce as if on demand. I realized I had seen her ingest -- and urinate -- an incredible amount of fluid over the past day. More, than it seemed, one body could hold.
Was it a matter of quantity of fluid one consumed? Or was there some secret, other, alien part to the people of this country that allowed them this unique talent?
I sat down on the dry stone at the back of the enclave. "However...I will have something to drink," I said. "I'm parched."
Pilot's eyes brightened at that. "Yes, my lady? What will you take? River water? Fire-water?"
"Both," I decided grandly. "One of each."
"Your wish is my desire, my lady," he said, and in no time at all he was handing me two goblets: one inset with small blue gems, and the other with red.
Sipping from one, and then the other, both the sweet river water and the sharp-honey alcohol, the taste of both mingled together in my mouth. I expected them to clash horribly, but instead they combined to form this lingering sweetness which mellowed the heat of the alcohol. It certainly would never have worked with regular water -- there was some unique quality to the springwater of this mountain.
Pilot sat nearby and drank with me, answering my endless questions about the cultural traditions of the monarchy. It was thrilling to speak with someone who could be so frank and honest, without incurring embarrassment to either of us. Some of these questions were ones I would not have felt comfortable asking of the Queen, Herself.
After a short period, I set down both of my empty goblets at the same time. Pilot immediately refilled them and placed them back in my hands. So I kept drinking. And drinking. And he sat at my knee and also drank.
I may have watered down the liquor, but it was still powerful stuff: I was soon feeling the heady sensation of tipsiness.
So tipsy that I was able to relax the firm hold I usually kept on my own dignity.
There was a moment when, Pilot's gaze locked with mine, I became cognizant of the need to relieve myself. And at the same moment, staring deeply into those entrancing eyes, I knew with deep conviction that Pilot wanted the same thing from me.
He was sitting on the ground just next to my foot, occupying the space between my legs, and half-turned toward me; his head about level with my knee.
He must have seen some determination in my gaze, because he started to move toward me even before I stood. I thought he might kneel to drink from me, as he did in the garden, but instead he turned away from me, sitting on his backside, and leaned backward.
Then, with both his hands carefully supporting my thighs and buttocks, he guided me down along with him, so that I was mounting his face and looking towards his...well. It was impossible to miss the swelling underneath the loincloth now.
"With your permission, my lady, I would relieve myself alongside you," he murmured from between my thighs.
"Yes..." I said, hardly aware of what I even said. "Yes, of course..."
He opened wide for me -- his lips spread like he was giving the most intimate of kisses -- and I shuddered as some inner valve inside me unloosed a great gush of fluid, straight down into his waiting mouth.
He guzzled from me hungrily; and I released such a torrent that his manhood actually push