Naked Elf Fucked Raw by Orc Shaman After Battle in Sylvaar Woods
Hidden behind the massive stump of a fallen oak in Sylvaar’s heart. Air thick with damp moss, blood, and sweat. My skin sticky, naked, smeared red from the slaughter. Rerdan slumped against dirt wall, huge sword planted like a challenge. Ourajii wheezing, foam at jaws. My savior orc, tracked him days through shadows. Now this. Pulse hammering. Eyes lock. Fuck, that body. Battle rage morphing to hunger. No words needed. Urgency burns. He touches my cheek. Fingers rough, trail neck, graze tit. Heat floods pussy. Instant soaked. “Old magics,” he growls low. “Blood helps. But pleasure stronger.” Strips slow. Muscles corded, scars mapping kills. Cock swings heavy, thickening. I stare. Throat dry. Want it now. Days watching him stalk foes like prey. This first touch after screens of fantasy? Real. Brutal. His breath hot on neck. Hand dips to ass. Squeezes. I lean in. Worg first, he says. Kneel. Focus magic on dying beast. He presses behind. Chest to my back. Massive. Safe. Fingers circle tits. Thumbs rough nipples. Pinch. Twist. Gasp escapes. Magic surges. Pussy clenches empty. Open legs wide. His hand dives. Fingers slick folds. Slow stroke up-down. Juices coat him. Silence but pants, wet sounds. Heart races. Adrenaline spikes. No time waste. Need cock soon.
His thumb teases ass. Circles tight ring. Push back. Want more. Fingers plunge pussy. Two. Stretch. Pump. I grind. Magic flows hot into worg. Tits ache. Nipples diamonds. He rolls ’em hard. Bite lip. Beast stirs. But I crave deeper. Turn head. “Fuck me shaman. Heal him through me.” Eyes dark. Grin feral. Knows I’m his.
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