Chapter 51: The Master’s Classy Hobby

The rest of the shopping goes mercifully fast and the good doctor and I are back at her place before you know it. I’m glad to be done, honestly, this was more much taxing than hiking around with Sam and Zutiria on local quests and carrying items for them.

“Help me put away some of this, Dear, you remember where everything goes don’t you?” Opalina calls me into her kitchen and I help her sort out the groceries as if I’ve done it dozens of times. Because I have.

“There,” I say after putting the loaf of bread into the bread box, “I think that’s just about the last of it.” I smile and stretch.

“Did you get a good workout today?” Opalina smiles from across the kitchen, sorting out the bottles of alcohol she picked out. There’ll be more than enough choices for me to create a cocktail for her, a fact that I know she’s looking forward to very much.

“Thanks to you.” I sigh, reclining against the counter.

The older woman places her finger on her chin, tilting her head. “You’ve been aggressively suggesting that you want me to make use of your body all day, Dear, I don’t understand. Isn’t this what you wanted...?” 

“Ha ha.” Her wit makes me roll my eyes behind my dark glasses. “Isn’t it time to talk about that, don’t you think?”

Opalina giggles in that deep, low voice of hers and it drives me mad. “I’m going to start blushing like a maiden if you keep being so forward about it. I wanted to spend normal time with you first, you know? But I understand the sentiment... in a way it feels like a dam about ready to burst.”

As she leaves me with that imagery, Miss Hart strips herself of her light blue coat in a teasingly slow manner. Even though it’s only one layer, it’s still very sexy as she reveals the contents hidden beneath. A better glimpse at the incredibly round mass of her curvy breasts held tightly in place by a dark gray sweater greets me and I’m very happy about it.

When I look up to see her face, the mature woman is biting her luscious lips and looks like she’s barely able to control herself. “Would you like to help me cook dinner, Dear? Or perhaps you’d rather go rest in the living room?” She stops to think about the best way to coddle me. “Yes, go do that. I believe you likely need a break from cooking as you’ve been feeding those two girls and yourself every day, haven’t you?”

“I don’t mind helping you, Opal.” I smile as the blush rises on her face once again upon hearing me call her that.

“Nonsense.” She shakes her head, and her luscious auburn curls along with it. Her hands are planted firmly on her wide hips. “I’m ordering you to relax while I whip something up for us, understood?”

There’s no helping it when she’s like this, so I duck out of the room. “Of course.”

“Good boy.”

As I lay here on her couch in the cozy living room of the second floor of Helpful Heals, a powerful sense of nostalgia overwhelms me. I feel like a child again, stopping by for a checkup on my worsening eyes. The eyes would never improve, sure, but at least I got to see Opalina. The one silver lining.

And now I’m here to do a lot more than just see her, apparently... how is this even going to work? I thought I needed to be adding new adventurers to my guild. Opalina may be a brilliant healer, but she’s far, FAR from an adventurer and I know she has no interest in that sort of lifestyle.

Will we just see each other on and off from now on, if things feel right? Is there a way she could become an even bigger part of my life the same way that Sam and Zutiria are?

I know some Guilds have on site healers, but we don’t have nearly enough adventurers to justify that and I couldn’t pay her enough to leave her clinic behind in the first place, if she even would. That would be a lot to ask of someone, even if it’s Miss Hart.

I’m getting ahead of myself just because my eyes are telling me for a fact that she wants me. I’ve yet to actually talk to Opalina about her feelings, though what better way to get to the heart of the matter than after cocktails?

All this thorough over-analysis of the tension between the doctor and I nearly gives me a stress headache but I dodge it narrowly by clocking out and taking a comfortable little nap on the couch.

I’m not sure how long I’m out for, but by the time I begin to stir again I can smell a lovely aroma of a home cooked meal drifting out of the kitchen. I don’t know what’s in there, but it smells a hell of a lot better than whatever I could prepare considering the low quality ingredients I can afford.

I stretch myself to a more awake state and after opening my eyes accidentally I expect to be blasted with a searing, sharp pain, but much to my surprise that’s not the case despite my glasses missing.

In fact, as I come to I realize that I am partially no longer on the couch. Most of me is, but my head is now resting comfortably on top of those meaty thighs I felt up several hours ago. Their owner is staring down at me with angelic grace, a warm smile blessing her red lips.

“Dear...? Are you awake now?” She smiles, running her fingers through my hair yet again.

“Yes...” I say as I rub the sleep from my eyes.

“I’m still so shocked... you really can look at me without your glasses, huh?” She laughs nervously, as if she’s been waiting for this day for a long time.

“Yes...”

“And you don’t know why...?”

I look into her eyes from below. Deep purple, beckoning safety and trust as they always have. I do know why, but I haven’t even told Sam or Zutiria yet. Would they even believe me if I did? Would Opalina?

Her expression changes, sensing my concern. “You know you can tell me anything, Sweetheart. I won’t pretend to know what you’re going through, but... I’ll always listen and tell you my thoughts.”

“... It’s like I told you the other day. How there was a voice compelling me to take Sam, and then Zutiria. Telling me to make them my women.”

The topic causes the mature woman to blush, although she nods her head. “Yes, and? Has something changed since yesterday...?”

“I had a dream.”

“A dream?” She tilts her head quizzically, and I shake my head and sigh.

“There’s no easy way for me to say this...”

“Then say it the hard way.” Opalina says with a serious tone in her voice. “Stop worrying about my reaction. Why would I EVER have reason to doubt you about anything, Dear?” Her words almost sound offended that I don’t trust her, and that makes me feel awful.

“Last night I had a dream that a goddess spoke to me and told me that I could have any woman I want as long as I could win them over, and that it would ultimately benefit my destiny. She said that there were girls she would hand pick to be with me through circumstance, my ‘destined’, but that any other women could be included as well so long as I wanted them and they wanted me.”

A silence hangs in the air.

“You don’t mean... THE Goddess, do you?” She’s referring to the better half of Karnalle’s creator deities, the Twins. Lux Ultima, Goddess of the Highest Light.

“I don’t have enough information to make that call. Does the scripture mention if the Goddess is a bratty little bitch?” It’s an honest question, but it makes Opalina’s eyes shoot wide open.

“Dear. I believe you, I truly do, but maybe let's not go around tempting fate by calling the Goddess such things, alright?” She nervously chuckles, looking up at the ceiling as if wary of divine punishment from the heavens.

“Sorry, you’re right. Thankfully she hasn’t said anything in response to. She said something this morning, too, and the day before... she...”

Raising an eyebrow, Opalina looks down at me suspiciously while continuing to stroke my hair. “She what?”

“She may have made an inappropriate comment about what I should do with you.”

She’s silent for a moment, before giggling. “If you were ANY other man, do you have any idea what I would do to you for saying such a stupid thing? ‘Excuse me, Miss, I need to fuck your brains out because the Goddess gave me a free pass.’”

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I join her in hearty laughter. “Well when you put it like that, it just sounds silly.”

“Indeed. Therefore, you must be telling the truth... mm.” She glances away slightly for a moment. “May I ask you something, Dear...?”

“Anything.”

“You said that the Goddess... picked certain women out for you. She didn’t... I mean... that is to say...” Her cheeks grow red as she tries to find a way to ask a question she’s afraid of the answer to.

“... I think that she meant my ‘destined’ were adventurers, saying that I needed to perform ‘powerful couplings’ with them.”

“I see.” Opalina tries to make her disappointment appear minimal, but she does a very poor job of it. “That makes sense, I’m pushing sixty after all.” She giggles half heartedly.

She’s being somewhat self pitying, considering that age doesn’t really matter so much when you’re a Mage like her. Not only did her aging halt after a certain point just like Zutiria’s did, but she’s still in the prime of her youth technically and will enjoy a prolonged life span. Opaline really loves playing up the mature older woman card. Especially when it suits her.

“Despite that...” She looks down straight into my eyes, her own glare glazing over with repressed affection., “You’re saying your heart has room for more than just those special few...?”

She inches down closer to my lips with her own, bit by bit. I can feel her warm breath from here, and as I begin to reach out to kiss her I say, “As long as we both want each other. That won’t be a problem, will it...?”

Just before our lips meet a bell rings in the kitchen and Opalina jerks back upright, her massive breasts practically bouncing along to follow her up. “DINNER’S DONE!” She snaps back into a slightly awkward mood, blushing and sweating slightly.

Just like me, she knows what she wants, but it doesn’t make it any easier when the tension is so thick between us and when considering our shared history.

“Up, up!” Opalina pats my knees with a soft laugh, signaling for me to scoot up off of my comfy thigh pillow and away from my amazing under view of her bountiful bosom.

She hands me my glasses with a smile after I sit up, revealing she took them off to look at me in the first place while I was sleeping.

“Give me just a moment, Dear. I’ll call you when it’s all ready!” Opalina prances into the other room almost like a delighted little girl, showing none of her maturity. She’s really happy to be cooking for me again, isn’t she...? The thought makes me feel just a bit guilty.

After waiting patiently for Opalina to put the last touches on dinner, her voice summons me and I make my way to the kitchen to see the dining table stacked with more food than two people could reasonably eat. Thick cutlets of juicy, steaming pork, a large bowl of mashed potatoes, bubbling cauldrons of thick, savory soup, countless veggies and fruits scattered about all cooked and seasoned in a myriad of ways... and naturally a large helping of cookies and small pastries on the far side of the table.

This is the power of a mother’s love, and it never fails to impress.

Even though I told her I didn’t want to overeat, it fell on intentionally deaf ears and Opalina ignored my request. I should have seen this coming considering the many times this woman has cooked for me in the past. Part of the reason I have such a good physique is I got into a habit of exercising from a young age, mostly to work off the fat that her cooking brought along with it.

I was successful in fending off the calories, but Opalina herself has never been very good at that which is the reason behind her very full, curvy, rounded figure.

I have no choice but to engage in this extravagant offering, and I pick pieces of the many choices here and there until I’ve got myself a decent plate. Opalina assured me that the leftovers could be taken home with me for the girls, even though she knows that their appetite is typically less thanks to my ‘oral blessing’.

We share a delightful supper together, chatting about idle things once more and letting the mood carry us long past the point where our stomachs were full.

I’ve missed this so much... 

After we enjoy each other’s company, I help Opalina package and seal up the remaining food that she intends to give me and get it out of the way so we can retire to the living room together. Before that, though I’ve a promise to fulfill. This time it’s my turn to make her wait.

“Any requests?” I smile confidently as I make my way to her selection of alcohol.

“You know what I like by now, Dear.” Opalina giggles and begins exiting the room. “I’ll be waiting for you on the sofa, just don’t keep me waiting TOO long... alright?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” I give her a reassuring grin before seeing what I have to work with.

One of the many things a Guild needs in order to be successful is alcohol- lots and lots of alcohol. The only thing adventurers love more than getting paid is spending that pay on booze.

Sure, many of them just show up and shout for ale, beer or mead, but a true Guild must have a skilled bartender to serve every sort of drink the realms over when requested. I may have mentioned that drinking is a small vice of mine, and it’s no small part due to my love for mixing drinks.

While at first it was just a skill I learned to help run the Guild, over time it ended up becoming a true hobby that I still enjoy to this day. Although I’ve done it less and less as the years went on, since as the adventurers stopped coming to the Guild I had no more people to serve drinks to. Mixing drinks for yourself in an empty building is... depressing, to say the least. I’ve yet to show this talent to Sam or Zutiria, either, mainly because I don’t even have that much alcohol in storage and most of it is cheap leftover swill unsuited for the noble art of mixing.

On top of knowing all of the classic cocktails such as the Salty Orc, the High Elf-Baller or the Crystal Vodka, I’ve also dabbled in creating my own mixes. While none of them have ever been submitted to the official registry of Karnalle cocktails, I feel confident in them and Opalina has always had a vested interest in this hobby of mine. She’d often visit the Guild as if it were a bar and I’d make her plenty of different drinks to try, and at times I’d walk her home or make up a spare bedroom for her if she drank too much to make the walk back home.

I’m limiting her to only one drink tonight, though, as I don’t want to feel like I’m intentionally getting her drunk for my own benefit...

Putting that nasty thought aside, I begin mixing our drinks. I make the quick decision to prepare my own first so that the good doctor’s is fresher when I serve it. For tonight, I want something hard and bold. Something to make me feel manly and give me a little bit of extra confidence, so I decide on a personal favorite of mine.

The Dirty Dewhurst.

Taking a highball glass, I fill it with ice from an arcane tech icemaker and pour a good portion of Dwarven Rust vodka and ginger root powder, and to give it a little kick I mix in just a dash of distilled basilisk venom. Very potent even when the poison is removed, though very expensive. I see Opalina decided to splurge on the good stuff...

After lightly stirring and garnishing it with a slice of sylvan lime, my drink is done. I take a sip to measure my success and am pleasantly surprised by just how strongly it goes down. It’s not my best mix ever, sure, but for being out of practice for a while I think it’ll do me nicely.

As for my lady friend, I believe I’ll settle on something I know for sure is a real favorite of hers. A certain drink of mine I like to call the Fairy’s Wings. Opalina seems to have accounted for this as the crucial ingredient is readily available- dust collected from actual fairies in flight.

Rather than using the Dwarven Rust vodka I settle on the much friendlier Merryburrow Green, a brew known for giving you a tingling sensation of comfort and happiness. Along with the other sweet things I add alone the way, the end result is a drink that makes you feel like you’re content enough to flutter around on the wings of a fairy. Lastly, I add a single cherry to the top and the drink is done.

I again help myself to a much smaller sampling, and it brings a smile to my face. She’s going to love it.

Deciding to play it up just a tad, I search her cupboard for a small serving tray and place both cocktails atop it. I then exit the kitchen to join Opalina in her living room where I’m greeted with a lovely surprise.

The mature woman has changed out of her outfit and now wears a tight, beautiful purple dress. Open backed and low cut, it’s dazzling to see how beautifully it accentuates her perfect curves and extravagant cleavage. The lights of the room have also been dimmed and replaced with flickering, scented candles.

This woman works fast.

“I said not to keep me waiting, didn’t I?” Opalina coos in a low, husky tone making sure to play up her pouty lips.

“Seems like it’s a bad habit of mine when it comes to you, Miss Hart.”

And with that, the drinks are served.

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