Our private lakeside retreat shimmered under the sun, crystal waters lapping at velvet sands reserved for the elite. Naked from our swim, skin glistening like polished marble, we lounged amid silk cushions and gold-embossed packs. Gardain, my stout nain lover, emerged first, dripping, spotting seven intruders from the shadowed woods. Armored in supple boiled leather that hugged their frames like second skins, they advanced—five brutes, an archer in light silks, a mage in flowing robes. No bandits, but bounty hunters crashing our sanctum.
Gardain snatched his axe, nude and fierce. ‘Ugly bastards,’ he growled low to me. ‘Shoot the robed one first, then the archer.’ My heart raced, bow in hand. They drew steel, no greetings. He charged screaming ‘Cognedurr!’, rolling under whistling arrows. Mine flew true—straight into the mage’s heart. Silent collapse. Archer next, my second shaft piercing his chest. Krill surged beside Gardain, greatsword flashing. Fireballs from Hermine incinerated flanks, screams echoing. Krill decapitated two, Gardain gutted the last. Blood soaked their leather, hot and metallic. Gong-Bong thundered divine applause.
The Privilege
Colissimo materialized, ignoring carnage, our godly courier in shimmering silks. Rewards cascaded. For Gardain: steel dagger, gold coins, dexterity surging. His cock thickened visibly, companions smirking. Mine: turquoise thigh-boots, soft leather caressing calves, four-inch steel stilettos clicking authority. Ten steel-tipped arrows. Lute for taming beasts. Charisma and dexterity bloomed. Breasts swelled to heavy 70D, but I chose subtler—ears refined, pointed elegance. ‘Can’t shoot with massive tits,’ I quipped, heavier globes straining.
Hermine’s haul: stiletto sandals, straps biting skin deliciously, spells of frost and lightning. Ring glowing soft light. Intelligence sharpened. Breasts ballooned to 90E, ass curved provocatively, hips flaring. Krill’s blades gleamed enchantable, muscles denser, cock elongating. Gardain matched him, grinning.
We claimed spoils: leather armors supple as glove leather, swords heavy with promise, gold glinting.
The Excess
Promise time. I dropped to all fours before Gardain, blood-crusted thighs parting. His six-inch serpent stiffened. ‘Bigger now—can you swallow?’ Doubt in his eyes. ‘Elves devour raw carrots whole,’ I purred, mouth wide. He gripped my head, sliding deep. Wet heat enveloped him, nose buried in his musky bush. Slow thrusts, eyes locked—no gag, just suction. Krill mounted Hermine doggy, pounding her tightest hole. ‘Galipett forage,’ she moaned. Grunts built. I swallowed his hot jets, licking clean. They climaxed together, roars primal.
Lake called again. We plunged, washing blood in effervescent waves. Saponified cubes foamed mauve luxury on skin—girls soaping cocks firm, then each other, nipples peaking. Rinse. Loot divided: leathers, blades, coins split four ways.
Boys hauled gear to Port-Taille, backs laden. We stayed—Hermine cross-legged, absorbing spells into carved staves, bird-head and orb-topped. Beauty charms fluted from my lips. Staves charged: heals, frosts, bolts humming power.
Boredom tempted. I lay back, legs splayed. Hermine straddled reverse, cunts aligned. Tongues delved—sweet nectar flowing, clits throbbing under flicks. Muffled moans harmonized. Climax crashed, juices mingling in exquisite release. Discretion sealed our secrets amid whispering pines.
