“These are amazing!” Maeve said, looking at the pictures. She alternated between amazement and disappointment. “But so small.”

“To make a big one I need equipment I have at home.”

She frowned.

“And I also have to go home to get you a bra that fits your lovely curves perfectly.”

She looked at the photos again. “Do you think you could make those curves a little… bigger?”

“Maybe,” I said. “I can’t promise. But with equipment I have at home, I think so. But I can get a bra that would make your curves bigger, definitely. If we put a little padding here and here, well, it should be dramatic. Which of the, um, paintings do you like the best?”

She pointed at one with her left leg forward, and her chest pushed toward the camera. “This one.”

“Alright,” I said. “I’ll make a big one of that. I – the way my memory works, it’s hard to do anything but tell the truth with my, er, paintings.”

Maeve nodded. “We hate to let you go, Abby.”

I shrugged.

“There could be enticements if you stay,” she said. I wondered if she meant florins, or something more personal.

“Well, I do intend to come back,” I said. “To see you again. And of course, Lysandra.”

“Lysandra will be gone, we think, before you can make the trip.” Maeve sighed. “We don’t like it, but there it is.”

So soon. But I tried to keep my face neutral as I nodded, because I didn’t want Maeve getting jealous of the princess. “To get a bra that fits, we’re going to have to measure you. They are very finicky.”

“Measure,” Maeve repeated. “You mean you need us naked again?”

“Well, at least from the waist up.”

“Very well,” Maeve said. “Lysandra, take your clothes off. We’re getting naked again, so that Abby can measure us.”

The problem with using the second person singular to refer to one person is it made other meanings ambiguous. Anyway, we all took our clothes off, and I tried not to get a stiffy while measuring Maeve for a bra. I half succeeded. “What color would you like?”

“Oh, something very bright and cheerful,” she said. “I assumed one could only get black, or why else would you…?”

“I like black.”

“Could you measure me, too, Abby?” Lysandra asked.

Maeve sighed. “You will be gone before she gets back,” she said.

“Please,” Lysandra said. “I have faith in you, Abby. You’ll get it to me somehow.”

I measured Lysandra, while Maeve watched.

“You just want him to play with your breasts,” Maeve said. “It’s a shame, I suppose, that the Demons insisted on an elvish virgin.”

“Yes, isn’t it?”

Gah. My cock hardened and brushed up against her thigh.

“She wants you,” Maeve said. “I’m kind of jealous, actually. I didn’t get that reaction.”

“I can touch it, and still be a virgin, can’t I?” Lysandra asked.

“True,” Maeve said.

Lysandra reached down and took it in her small, delicate fingers. “Uh, consent, remember?” I objected, without putting my heart into it.

“It touched me first,” Lysandra said.

“32 B,” I said. “32 B. Let me make a note of it before I forget.” I fiddled with my phone, trying to distract myself.

“Oh, Abby. Can you make a picture of me, too? So that… a part of me is always here, regardless of my fate at the hands of the demons.” She stroked me, casually.

“That’s an excellent idea,” Maeve said.

“Of course,” I said, backing away with mixed emotions. “Just stand right there, Lysandra, and pose. That’s good.”

Lysandra might be a virgin, but she certainly wasn’t shy about getting her picture taken in the nude. I snapped several shots.

“Well,” Maeve said. “Abby must be going, I suppose. The sooner she gets home, and back, the better.”

I agreed. I had a market for bras and pictures here, and I would set up a trading post. But right now I had other things to do. I didn’t tell Maeve I wasn’t planning on coming straight back, although I had every intention of sending a messenger with her picture.

I asked Lysandra to stay outside the door, and I printed off one of her pictures. Then we packed up quickly. She guided us to the exit from the palace, and I handed her the print-out.

“Oh!” she blushed. “Oh my. How much do I owe you?”

“We’ll talk about it after I rescue you from the Archfiend,” I told her. I felt a little bad, because I wasn’t sure I could do it. But she needed courage for what she was going to go through, and for that she needed hope. If I could convince her I was confident I’d collect payment later, when in fact I didn’t care whether I got paid or not, my confidence might give her a boost.

As we wound our way to the gate, I took as many pictures as I could, playing tourist. I found a little gallery on the way, and stopped in and persuaded the proprietor to display a few of “my” works – a reproduction of a 70s centerfold, Ingres’ Grande Odalisque, and one of Monet’s pictures of Rouen Cathedral. I told him I hadn’t painted them, and he just winked at me.

“I’ve heard that about you, that you deny authorship. I think it’s going to be all the rage,” he told me. He promised to sell them and, after taking a cut, give me the net. He seemed quite pleased by the whole arrangement.

Then we were on the road.

It took us four days to get back, instead of the six it took on the way out. Without having to put on a show for Harmodiel, we could put pretty much everything in the bag of holding, which meant we were traveling light. Furthermore, my pop-up tent went up in about ten minutes, as opposed to the hour and a half it took to set up Harmodiel’s monstrosity. And Lesseth, who was asleep in the bag during the day, could watch all night, now that we didn’t have to conceal her presence. Without watches, we didn’t have to spend as long getting a decent night’s sleep.

Also, I was in a hurry.

We checked on Gruush’s trading post in Gavabar’s village, because it was on the way, but by then we were almost home. Everything seemed to be running well. The zombies making a circuit were enough to keep the trading posts supplied. Kathy was totally on top of filling orders, and Kendala could now ride an e-bike fast enough that if something small was urgently needed, she could supplement the zombie deliveries.

Maybe I wasn’t so essential, after all. It was mostly a good feeling. We headed into the forest, toward the crypt.

We didn’t get far before a small green figure jumped out of a tree at me, startling me half out of my wits and knocking me down. Gren started laughing almost immediately, which stopped me from reaching for my sword. Xyla’s soft curves were pressing on me as she smothered me with kisses.

“I missed you, too,” I said.

“Good,” she said, and flipped the skirt of my dress up.

“Let’s go on and give them some privacy,” Valeria said.

“Perfect plan,” Gren said.

“B-b-but,” I said. I’d been focused on the need to make good speed, so that we could get to the demons before Lysandra did, and there were things I had to do before we could even leave.

One of the things I had to do, obviously, was Xyla.

She pulled down my underwear, straddled me, gave my cock a couple of strokes in a nod at the idea of foreplay, and then took me inside her. She ripped off the leaves covering her nipples and tossed them to flutter away in the breeze. I reached up to pinch them lightly, and grin at her. “This is quite a welcome,” I said.

“You were away so long! Don’t leave like that again, Abby.”

I heard the sound of an electric motor in the distance. “I have to.”

“No! No, no, no.”

A e-bike came to a halt in the clearing, and I looked up to see Kendala, wearing a leather vest and leather hot pants, and riding the bicycle. “Abby!” she said, reproach in her voice.

I didn’t know what I was being reproached for, but in a way, the fact that she thought she could object to anything seemed like progress.

“What?”

Xyla turned to look at Kendala, and grinned. “You came to watch?”

“Can’t say as I blame you,” Lesseth said. She must have gotten out of the bag at some point, and now she was making a point of leaning casually against a tree.

“Abby, I’ve been learning all about consent,” Kendala said. “Because it’s such an important concept to you. And if Xyla says no, even though she is married to you, that means no.” She put her hands on her hips.

“Who said no?” Xyla asked.

“You did,” Lesseth said. “But you were talking about Abby going on another trip.”

Xyla grinned. “Yes. Not about sex. Sex is a yes, yes, yes!” She started bouncing up and down on me.

Kendala ahhed. “I feel much the same way.” She pulled her vest open, revealing she was wearing absolutely nothing under it.

“Mmm,” Lesseth said, moving toward Kendala.

So, Xyla and I made love with Kendala and Lesseth having sex right next to us. It wasn’t the worst welcome home ever, but if it was meant to stop me from going on long trips, it wasn’t going to be horribly effective. I’d just keep returning. It took me a pleasant while, but eventually I managed to satisfy Xyla’s pent-up desires.

“So,” I asked, when I’d gotten my clothes back on and we were on our way, “How are things here?”

“Wonderful!” Xyla said. “The leaves are turning color, one of the foxes had kits and they are super healthy and rambunctious.”

“They sound cute.”

“Sooooo cute! Just don’t ask Nutty what he thinks.”

“Nutty doesn’t think they are … oh, right, foxes eat squirrels, don’t they?”

“Yes. And baby foxes – well, they play with their food. Or mommy does, to teach them.”

“Ah.” The cycle of life. How long did a squirrel live, anyway? Maybe being too fond of Nutty wasn’t a good idea.

“The trading posts are doing well,” Kendala said. She hadn’t bothered to rebutton her leather vest. Somehow the occasional gaping reveal of breast was more distracting than toplessness would have been. I wondered if she knew that. “Oh, and I asked Kathy, and she said that if I had sex with Talos I’d have to have him wear a little rubber thing.”

“A condom.”

“Yes, that.”

“And so? Not that it’s any of my business.”

“Of course it’s your business, I’m your employee. Anyway, Talos said that he couldn’t have sex with more than one woman unless he was married to both of them.”

“Ah.” Premarital sex was already wrong, according to Talos’ ideas, but he seemed to have gotten his head around that. But maybe he thought it was better if acted like he was married to Kathy, and he was fine with bigamy.

“But then, Kathy showed me all about vibrators. Wow!”

I chuckled.

“We have a saying on Earth, that a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle.”

Kendala frowned. “Fish can’t ride bicycles.”

“I think that’s the point.”

“But women can definitely ride men. And bicycles, both. In fact, if I find a bumpy stretch, honestly the bike is nearly as good as the vibrator.”

I smiled. “I’m happy for you.”

“I still fully, actively, and enthusiastically consent to having sex with you, Abby. Have you heard about FRIES?”

I nodded. “Consent should be given freely, be reversible, informed, enthusiastic, and specific.”

“Right. Specifically, I give consent for you to do me from behind, on top, on the bottom, sideways although I hear that doesn’t feel as good, orally, both giving and receiving, anally – I think, I’d have to try it and see. That’s the reversible part. Also, toys are okay, and …”

I should have been listening closely. It was, of course, the freely part that I wondered about, but clearly the enthusiasm was fully there. The way her vest kept fluttering open while she walked her bike was distracting, and Xyla was distracting too, on the other side of me. Lesseth was walking two steps behind.

“Kendala,” I interrupted, after she had given me explicit consent for about fifty different ways to have sex.

“I was being specific, Abby,” she said. “Was I not doing it right?”

“You were doing it excellently, Kendala. How do you feel about kissing?”

“You mean, you, and me?”

“Yes. Right here, right now.”

“I’m for! Nibbles are fine, and also open mouth kissing, with or without tongue, and soft biting is good, and –“

I shut her up in the best possible way. Behind me, Lesseth clapped, which was an odd, squishy sound.