The Knight and the Naiad
(by Derren Grathy; http://impregnationerotica.blogspot.com)
Smoke from the lost battle no longer blotted out the night sky as Sir Jorn fell against a tree. Having held the line as long as possible against the tide of greenskins, the brave garrison of the Swamp Marches had fallen. 
The blood from countless orcs stained his armor, which now hung like tattered rags from his body. The once gleaming sword he carefully attended to now lay back in the battlefield’s reddened muck, its sleek blade cut into a dozen times by the skulls of his foes. The broken blade would not serve him any longer.
Jorn gasped and tore off his battered helm and the remnants of his armor off, hissing as fresh blood spilled. Superficial wounds, but the dozen cuts and bruises marking his limbs and body were salted by his sweat – and his failure. None of his comrades survived, and the city lay unsuspecting of the impending attack.
He had to warn the magistrate of the greenskins. Though he had escaped the horde, he was hopelessly lost in the forests of Avengard. Worse, his knees refused to carry him another step. He needed rest, though his pride stung at the idea.
He brushed aside his tangled blond hair to see the edge of a crystalline lake, a secretive grotto overshadowed by a cliff’s face just beyond the treeline. The waterfall that fed it crooned from the high rocks as the full moon beamed down on a lone black rock that jutted out from the lake’s center.
The place would more than suffice for rest. Jorn staggered to the water’s edge, kicking his boots away and dropping his ruined garb. The water was warm to the touch – no doubt from hot springs nearby, and its warmth soothed his aching muscles. A bated breath escaped his chest as he sank down to recline against some smooth, black stones. The healing waters lapping against his wounded chest.
“Gods above…” he groaned, and stretched his arms wide and leaned his head back. The stars above competed with the moon to shine brightest, and the warm breeze of a midsummer’s night touched his face. Sleep almost fell on him right then, until a distant splash sharpened his senses.
Immediately he tensed and scanned the lake. Nothing moved. Something that had been perching on the central rock was gone. Yet not even a ripple touched the clear lake surface. Jorn knew there was something inhuman there.
And then, a pair of eyes rose up from the water hardly an arm’s length away. Large and round with irises a dark pinkish-red, they were set in a face that was as pale as a newt’s underbelly - Yet long ears verdant as seaweed drifted beneath the water’s surface. The creature’s long black hair gave it an almost human look – though human it was not, her girlish face showed she was definitely female.
Innocent eyes. Not the wild stares of the monsters that threatened to destroy Jorn's people. These eyes were those of a sprite, looking up at his body with the same curiosity of a being that sees something like itself for the first time. Then their eyes met. It was as if she were asking permission to come closer.
When the knight did not move, she did. Rising from the warm waters, she displayed her full body. The blue waters cascaded from her sleek shoulders, revealing the pale green of her front that merged into the dark-spackled emerald of her sides and back. Smooth as glass and glistening like a salamander, her ample apple-sized breasts to the curve of her naked hips reflected the moonlight above.
Was she a Naiad? The being drew closer and lightly touched his chest. She was no spirit, but no other word could describe the human-shaped divinity.
Her face was that of a maiden, smooth and youthful, human in all but her wide ruby eyes. She brought her face close to his, searching him with that strange and exciting curiosity she emanated. The knight knew she would not understand him even if he spoke. Her webbed fingers gently touched his yellowy hair and rugged cheeks, a cool and gentle touch that calmed his frayed nerves.
He let her explore him. As he sat on the rocks her legs brushed by either of his. Her hands followed her eyes, down the bruises and wounds marking his chest and shoulders, feeling the contour of his hands, touching the strength of his abdomen. Jorn didn't resist as her explorations traveled lower still. 
And then her eyes darted down. The water was clear, and she stared at his strong member in her hands. For the first time her mouth opened slightly, a look of surprise on her innocent face. But her motion was far from innocent. 
She straddled Jorn’s lap as she cradled his member in her webbed fingers. Her hips caught his growing length against the cleft of her sex. Jorn groaned. Her nether lips pressed against his shaft, embracing him with their warm petals. There was no doubt they were compatible, even made for each other this way...
That thought seemed to cross both their minds. The Naiad looked back up into his blue eyes. Jorn gazed into hers. Though different in body and mind, the two of them connected. The horrors of war melted from his mind as the nymph's legs hugged around his waist, and his own hands reached around her back. 
The young knight sighed as this strange woman's silky breasts pressed against him. They were firmer than any before, and as smooth and slick as the skin of a newt. Nothing grazed his chest as she rubbed against him. Her breasts were featureless and without nipples. Their yielding softness pressed into him so deliciously, as if the nymph didn't realize how erotic that alone was for him.
While her webbed hands began to work up and down his hardening length, Jorn traced his fingers down her spine. Instead of ending at the round of her ass, her spine continued on far beyond any human's. She had a tail. 
The nymph trembled and a little surprised note sang from her lips the moment Jorn touched it. For just a moment her curious ministrations stopped, frozen by the shock of pleasure that rushed through her. Jorn tightened his grip around her tail's base, feeling the powerful muscles beneath her silky skin twitch and tighten as her arms quivered and her cheeks flushed with arousal - just like his own.
More and more the Naiad rocked her hips atop of his. The soft petals of her sex, ten times more luscious and slick than even her inhuman skin, pressed and clung to the underside of his shaft. And then she leaned forward, her tail wrapped around his leg as she guided his member towards her tight opening. It was an offering, Jorn realized. Her ruby eyes, heavy-lidded now with the weight of her growing need, begged him to accept her. Taking her waist in his hands, Jorn pulled her quivering hips down onto his raging cock.
She gasped and quailed, her voice singing out like the faintest notes of a songbird. Jorn almost growled, feeling this beautiful maiden's sex wrapping around him. Never had such a warm, melting embrace taken hold of his cock. Every one of her inner walls was ribbed with firm pink ridges that caught along the throbbing head, and every angelic mewl that left her lips accompanied a rippling motion inside her that ran from base to tip along his member.
There was no slow build between them, as would between inexperienced lovers. Instinctively they knew one another, as if this mating had always been meant to be. The moment Jorn's cockhead met the resistance of her cervix, the instant the nymph's firm rump planted itself on his thighs, the second her eyes rolled and her aquatic sex kissed the base of his shaft, the pair began to fuck.
Louder the nymph sang, her arms wrapping tighter around Jorn's muscled neck, her alien breasts molding into his heaving chest. Whatever fatigue Jorn had evaporated as primal lust invigorated his every muscle. With steady hand he gripped her quavering hips and brought her down onto his cock again and again, harder with each passing stroke. Not a moment lapsed where his thumbs did not massage the base of her tail, or tug on its exotic length as she rode him. Her trembling alone as he did urged him on - the clamp-like squeezes she gave his cock in return drove him absolutely feral. Soon the slap of their contrasting skin joined the chorus of their groans and moans. His human member plunged into her Naiad pussy till their hips rammed together in orgasmic fervor.
Jorn gritted his teeth, trying to hold back, trying desperately to make their pleasure last forever. The Naiad's heart pounded against his, her breasts shivering with her every spine-arched and gasping breath. Her eyes rolled from moon to stars to shimmering waterfall, her angelic eyes seeing none. The only thing she saw was her mate's as she grasped his cheeks, her small mouth open wide with unknowable ecstasy.
And as the pair reached the precipice, Jorn kissed her. Never had the nymph known such a gesture, but her eyes fluttered closed as she offered herself totally to him. She came, trembling and jerking like a fresh caught fish, and Jorn held back no longer. Joined together in the tightest embrace he speared up into her warm depths and unleashed his potent load. The Naiad's divine pussy milked him from base to tip. Not a drop of Jorn's sperm escaped those delicious ridges that lined her fertile channel.
Long after the breath returned to their lungs, the pair remained joined and held each other close. Their carnal fever became a gentle series of kisses. She learned quickly to surrender to his masculine hunger, to let his tongue dance and subdue her own, while his human seed ebbed from her still-twitching sex. Their hips still moved together, reveling in the afterglow of their mating long after it had concluded.
Finally, they pulled apart. The Naiad gazed up into his eyes again, blinking slowly and sensually with the faintest trace of a smile crossing her pretty face. Jorn cradled her head against his chest and petted her long hair and explored the softness of her ears. The softest mix of a cooing purr came from her lithely body. Though she was certainly not human, he had never adored a woman as much as she.
Then, her purring stopped. She opened her pretty eyes and looked down. Her smile had disappeared. Jorn knew her thought matched his: That soon they would have to part, perhaps never to see one another again. He felt her heart through her chest, beating beside his own. He wouldn't forget that feeling.
A new desire set hold in his chest. The knight retightened his hold around her. The Naiad looked at the man who in that moment felt the sting of regret mix with his undeniable sense of duty towards his people. On his honor as a knight, he would return to his city and warn them of the coming attack come the morning light.
"But not yet," he smiled, and lifted her. Still kissing, he brought her down into the muddy softness of the shore. Her eyes gazed wide up at him, unsure yet sparkling. Her heart fluttered against his chest as he reached down to grasp her hands in his. There, like a husband taking his new wife, he pressed his lips to hers and entered her again.
Throughout the night they joined, their mating mixing between bouts of savage fucking and tender passion. In the moonlit mud of the shoreline their hips ground together in steady tempo. Beneath the roaring waterfall they gripped each other as he pinned her jerking hips to the cliffside stones. In the mouth of the cave where the Naiad slept, on her very bed of seaweed and downy roots, he seized her long tail and took her from behind like a beast as their primal cries echoed for all the world to hear.
And they did not stop until the sun finally crept over the horizon hours later.

---

After that, Jorn departed from the Naiad's grotto. Somehow she knew that he had a quest to fulfill, and let him go without a struggle. The last he saw of his lover was her silhouette upon the lake's central rock, reclining on her hip with her hands supporting her wistful posture as she watched her knight disappear into the woods whence he came.
Within a week, Jorn made it back to his city to warn of the terrible orcish threat. Beside the magistrate and his advisors, the knight drew up plans for the city's defense. But he refused to stay behind the lines. He took his place amongst the militia and soldiers to meet the greenskin menace, and for three days he railed against the endless assault. 
His knowledge of the greenskin horde proved invaluable. On the third day, Jorn's blade cut down the last monstrous general - but not without cost. Though the invaders broke and ran for their fetid mountain holds, Jorn's injuries proved too great. Barely surviving the wounds he suffered on the battlefield, he fell unconscious and lay recovering in the magistrate's estate. Days, weeks, and then months passed by, his feverish thoughts recalling the bright moon rising behind the ruby-eyed face of his Naiad lover.
Four months after the battle was won, Jorn rose from his bed. The townsmen cried his name, and the magistrate decorated him with the highest honors. The title of Lord Commander was his, along with the most beautiful estate on the hill beside the magistrate's own.
But Jorn desired only one thing, and his request of the Magistrate to have the resources to build instead a humble lodge in the mountain forests of Avengard shocked the people. But they accepted their hero’s request and allowed Jorn to leave the city, on the condition that he would return. He promised on his honor that he would.
Alone he trekked back into the mountain forests, his pack full of parchment and tools to draft his lodge. Following the streams that had lead him from the forests back towards their source, he found his destination. There he found the same break in the trees and the steep ledge that protected that mystical lake from all the outside world. He dropped his sword and his pack and stared at a marvelous sight.
She was still there, waiting on the monolithic rock that jutted up from the center of the lake. The Naiad almost glowed as she basked in the afternoon sun. Glistening in the streaming sunlight, her long tail swished lazily through the warm waters while her black hair draped down to frame her lithely body.
Only now, as she turned herself towards her knight with that beautiful gaze, her pale belly had become rounded, five months after their first night together. She had conceived. A small, knowing smile touched her lips at the same time that Jorn stepped out into the lake towards her. And before the waterfall they embraced again, the Knight and the Naiad, lovers forevermore.