Connection

Someone else putting words to their tryst made it more real, and tying it to her success as an envoy of the family business sapped some of the magic from it, for Brialla. Tingling heat and pinpricks receded, rather than building, and she grew colder in the unsteady morning breeze. If the Priestess had wanted to make them more of an official item, she had gone about the project in an inexpert way. Kerendra and Brialla had barely spoken, and that fact was, to Brialla, at least, underlined. As they walked in suppressed silence, she came to think that, the closer they came to the inn, the less she wanted to have breakfast with Kerendra. What she needed was time alone, to process, to re-center herself.

The sentinel seemed less affected, but quiet, still. Then again, to her, the bright morning was the same as very late evening for Brialla. Was it strange to be quiet at such a time? Was it the best time for the two to share a meal, and a bed?

Arriving at the massive building that was the inn, once a warehouse, now a place to keep people rather than dried apples and spider-meat and wind-chimes and whatever else the Kaldorei made and exchanged, Brialla turned to face Kerendra. Was immediately reminded by the faint throbbing of a lump in her throat why she had knelt for the warrior the day before. Tall. Strong. Annoyingly pretty and chiseled. Making her mentally trip over her words.

In one such small break, where the blood elf had to marshal the words before saying them, Kerendra raised her right hand, cupping Brialla’s cheek. Used her thumb to, carefully, gently, caress just beneath one golden eye. Looked down, not happily, not discontent, but stoic. Neutral. Waiting to see what reaction her touch elicited.

That one touch was all Brialla needed to feel the terrible, pleasant weakening warmth in her knees again. Feel her cheeks lit with fire again. Take a deeper, snapping breath. The thought of needing time alone lingered, still, but in the way that a bright but distant buoy, dipping and ever-moving on a storm-tossed ocean is seen. From the deck of a ship sailing ever further away. Into the storm, or away from it? She raised her hand, placing it atop Kerendra’s, her lips at last parting in a silly, indulgent, stupidly pleased smile that she could not hold back.

“Breakfast?”

Kerendra’s response was to trace her thumb down along the side of Brialla’s nose, to her upper lip. Pushing past it, past her teeth, and into her mouth. Their eyes remained fastened on one-another, though the blood elf occupied herself by wrapping her lips around the digit, sucking. The sentinel raised her left hand, stroking through Brialla’s hair, to the back of her head, the hand cushioning her as she bumped up against a wide, wooden pillar, the support of a wide entrance into the inn.

Nowhere to run, once again. Fenced in by Kerendra’s body, pressed against hers. She released the seal around the warrior’s finger, drawing in a shuddering breath. Speaking with someone’s thumb in her mouth was never going to be graceful and elegant, but she did her best. “Maybeh… we cohld go inshide?”

A faint, pleased smile from the sentinel made Brialla feel more at ease with her decision to suggest that they need not engage in anything more in full view of the public. Not that the public numbered anything impressive, the vast majority of the kaldorei having retired. Only other guards, sentinels, and a few stragglers, remained awake and active.

“Fine,” Kerendra said, mirth in her voice, withdrawing her thumb from Brialla’s mouth. “To your humble abode.”

“There’s a very pleasant bed. And some chairs, and a table, for the meal—”

“Not very hungry, little one.”

“Don’t you need to eat, to maintain… that?” Brialla, with a vague gesture in Kerendra’s direction, indicated the kaldorei’s muscled frame.

“Of course. Already did.”

“Impatient to forge that connection?”

“As if you aren’t,” Kerendra said, pushing her thumb back into the sin’dorei’s mouth. A little deeper than before. “Little one.”

In spite of herself, every time Kerendra called her ‘little one,’ Brialla felt a faint surge of heat. An outbreak of goosebumps. Without thinking, reflex made her move a hand to her lower stomach, sandwiched between their bodies, to press against the warmth building there, in particular. She had spent no time contemplating what she was actually doing with the towering sentinel, and even now, though the Priestess all but told her what was expected, her thoughts still strayed from the topic. Wondered if it was even possible. Kaldorei and sin’dorei. It seemed unlikely, but then, if any night elf could make such an impossibility into something real, it would be the one pushing her up against the wall. A singular, unique elf at her physical peak. She knew perfectly well how copiously potent Kerendra was.

“Maybeh,” Brialla said. Unconvincingly. Trying to convince no one.

The sentinel, at last, removed her thumb from the small sin’dorei’s mouth, suffering no shame at wiping the spittle clinging to it in the girl’s shirt. “You sound very cute with a finger in your mouth, little one. But, you mentioned a bed.”

Without thinking about it, Brialla rolled her tongue over the spot on her lower and upper lip where the kaldorei’s thumb had sat. She nodded, then, without finding words, her cheeks flushed with the heat of a roaring fire. A moment ago, what felt, suddenly, a very long time ago, she had been on the edge of sending the sentinel away. If she allowed herself to speak, now, she might actually just ask the night elf to fuck her. A breach of public decorum at home, to say the least, but she felt less certain about how much of a faux pas it was in kaldorei lands – the purple folk seemed decidedly more open and relaxed about their emotions, in general. Showed interest, hostility, deference, and so many other things, all without much hesitation.

“You must be… tired, yes,” Brialla said. She swallowed. “Come.”

Still pushed up against the pillar, she had very little agency in that moment, as far as where they might go, but she tried to turn. Was reminded by a ****, grinding thrust that pushed the sentinel’s girth against her flat stomach that they had to agree on where they might be off to, though coming seemed something both wanted. She tried again, looking up past her lashes, lending every convincing bit of herself to the bit. The encouragement, the double entendre. “Come?”

“To the room, first,” Kerendra said, finally separating herself from Brialla.

A strong arm found its resting place around the blood elf’s shoulders, and though it meant that neither of them could move quite as gracefully as they might be used to, she leaned into Kerendra’s flank and chest, regardless. Almost like a pair of pleasantly drunk friends, they half-stumbled to and up the stairs, finding their way to Brialla’s locked room. Only after she opened the door did the sentinel’s arm leave her, weaving through the door ahead of her. Allowing her to close it, and lock it.

Brialla turned. Tried to turn, but made it only halfway before slightly calloused fingers found her chin, tilting her head upwards. With a thump, Kerendra’s left forearm and hand landed on the door above the blood elf’s head. Once more, she found herself pinned against woodwork by the sentinel, and, once more, she found it difficult to complain about the continued gentle, cushioned impacts against such hard surfaces. Her focus remained elsewhere. Up. On Kerendra’s tattoed face.

“You almost said something, outside, little one. Why don’t you try again, in here?”

“What? I--”

She managed but two words of feeble protest, then three fingers smeared over her lips, halting words. It was not graceful, but the natural flow, the assumed command of the gesture, still buried what might have been annoyance by another blossom of heat in her chest. In her head. In her groin.

“Try again.”

It seemed that, every time one flush of warmth and pinpricks almost died upon her cheeks, a new one delivered itself. Kerendra was very close. Lips, very close. Eyes. Breath, spilling over Brialla’s skin. She blinked, repeatedly, and took an audible breath. Let it out, shivering. The first words that came to her were another protest, another evasion, but she quelled it. Willed herself to say what the kaldorei wanted her to. What she wanted.

“Fuck me. Please.”

At that, the sentinel pressed herself against Brialla’s smaller form, making that huge, fat shaft felt. Rolling slightly, grinding against the sin’dorei’s belly. Rolling her hips almost imperceptibly, though enough to make the slow, languid rhythm felt against skin. Directly above Brialla’s womb. “Please?”

“Please,” she whispered, her voice near breaking. “Please.”

They remained against the door for moments uncountable to Brialla. Ten seconds? Two minutes? Breathing, looking into one-another’s eyes, slowly rocking against each other. Until, at last, Kerendra leaned closer, pressing her lips to the blood elf’s. A brief kiss, a parting, and then a second, longer. On the cusp of developing into more, it was cruelly cut off by the sentinel, who separated herself, and then pulled Brialla a few inches off the door by the grip of her chin. Seemingly only to create room to take a hold of the back of her neck, directing her, with a light tug and a resultant stumble, towards the bedroom.

She ought to have felt awkward, but just as she righted herself, there was another shove. The second time, she had not the time to straighten and find her balance, the sentinel’s hand instead taking a hold of the back of her head. Directing her not onto the bed, but to her knees before its foot.

Brialla let out a grunt, her head turned sideways before being pressed into the soft sheets and covers and mattress, one eye squeezed shut, the other sending flitting golden light upwards as she tried to look back. Discover what Kerendra was doing. To no avail, as the kaldorei changed her grip, fingers curling around Brialla’s face, lacing across places less comfortable than she might have liked. A finger atop one brow, one crossing the bridge of her nose, one dug in between her lips, and one curving around her chin, the sentinel’s thumb settled on her forehead.

Pressed further into the soft bedding, she exhaled with more **** than usual. Clearly, Kerendra wanted something specific, and was in the process of taking it, and Brialla was not at all opposed to the method. In truth, she wanted the night elf to claim her, to take what was hers. Wanted it so much that her core tingled, and burned, and made her feel pleasantly weak, made her breathing snap, made her grind her thighs together.

A rough grip directed first her left, then her right wrist to her lower back, crossing one-another. The clinking of a belt buckle being manipulated penetrated the palm over her one unobstructed ear, sending a her already furiously thumping heart into another fit. It was not the immediate precursor to being fucked, though, as she felt first an insulating, cushioning piece of cloth – a shirt, perhaps – coil around her wrists, followed soon after by the stiffer, tighter belt. Luckily, it had been broken in, worn for a while, and so it was pliant, not cutting so much. Flexible. Enough that she could shift her arms and wrists in the binding, but no more.

“You don’t… have to—”

“Shut up,” Kerendra said. Her voice intense, commanding.

Brialla pulled half of her lower lip in between her teeth, no doubt screwing up her face even more. The finger between her lips made it difficult, but she cared not. The kaldorei did not need to bind her at all to get her to do what was desired, but, physically trembling from agitation and lust, she found that perhaps the sentinel knew what her smaller elven partner truly desired better still.

The hand compressing, squeezing her head, grinding her down against the covers, pulled away, and she slowly raised herself from the bed. Still on her knees, on the hardwood floor, and beginning to feel it keenly engaging in a fight which her kneecaps would soon beg to be allowed to retreat from. Nevertheless, she remained. For a moment.

“Turn to face me. On your knees.”

Brialla did so. Her eyes downcast, at first, rising slowly to take in the sentinel’s physique. Every scrap of clothing cast away, the long effort poured into developing a level of tone quite unusual for the night elves obvious wherever the sin’dorei let her eyes rest, and feast. There were scars, too, old and faded, and a single one, on Kerendra’s upper right arm, which seemed fresher. Healed very well, though, already in the slow process of disappearing, just not quite as far along as the rest. And large, crescent-like curves of a deep purple tattoo on her upper body, standing out against the lively, strong lavender of her skin.

Of course, right in front of her nose, that monstrously fat cockshaft hung, not quite able to cover the kaldorei’s weighty, huge nuts. Brialla sent a long look up at Kerendra’s pale blue, shining eyes, and then back to that smoothly-veined beast. Ran her tongue over her lips, feeling quite ready to repeat the performance they had put on the day before, even if she did not think it exactly what the Priestess had meant. “Randomly copulating” with Kerendra was what had occupied her mind for too long, now, to really object to the notion. They were alone. Undisturbed. She could indulge in precisely as much of the night elf’s massive, thick dick as she desired, and she wanted all of it.

Kerendra placed a single finger, right, index, against Brialla’s forehead. Pushed, gently, but enough to tilt the girl’s head back, and up. “Say what you want, little one.”

“I… didn’t I already?”

“Be more specific,” Kerendra said.

Brialla’s sluggish, lust-addled mind struggled to grasp what the kaldorei wanted. Her eyes darted back down to the girthy base of that behemoth, trailing upwards, following contours of muscle, to the curvature of the bottom of Kerendra’s breasts. Then back down, once more, almost drunk on the sight.

“I want… you. I want your huge, fat cock.”

“Good girl.”

Hands tied behind her back, there would be no clawing for breath, if Kerendra wanted more of what she had had the previous day. Brialla found that she did not care. Every part of her, her depths to her skin, tingled. Desire made her weak, warmed her through, and convinced her that, at the merest touch from the sentinel, she might explode. Without prompting, she leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the top of that shaft. Let her lips flatten a little, spread, so that her tongue could press against that hardening flesh, pushing out, over, past her lower lip as she moved her head upwards, her upper lip and flat tongue impressing the depth of her emotion upon the sentinel. She hoped so, at least. Brialla shifted on the floor, shifted her bound wrists, as much as she could, and leaned forward further still. Until her saliva-trailing tongue and lips met the root of that immense shaft, and shifted upwards further, just a little. Greeting the muscled core that had hammered against her face not a full day ago like a lover too long lost.

That shaft pulsed, growing slowly thicker, longer, up against her throat, against her collarbone, down between her firm, handful-and-a-bit-more breasts. Handfuls for her own kin, at least. She did not spare more than a passing thought to what they might be for Kerendra, focused elsewhere, impressing her admiration through lips trailing over the curvature of abs and just a hint of insulating fat, too.

“Again,” came the night elf’s voice. A command.

“I want your huge, fat cock,” Brialla said, only briefly interrupting her barrage of kisses, lifting her tongue hesitantly from the sentinel’s chiseled stomach. Fingers landed in her hair, against both her temples, and sent jolting, arcing energy through her. Made her snap a quick breath, exhaling with a shudder. Repeating that same breath again, and again. Her thighs tensed, and so did her stomach. Against Kerendra’s skin, she whispered, again: “Please. Please...”

Whether the night elf heard that plea, Brialla could not be certain. But her efforts grew more feeble, her eyes half-lidded, and she found herself not able to consciously track what she said. How many times had she whispered please? She did not know, and even that faint, uncertain attempt at thinking about it dissipated when Kerendra, for a moment, took to one knee before her, placing a hand, fingers splayed, against her flat stomach, fingertips applying just a little bit of pressure. Causing heat to pool there, to desperately seek the stimulation of those digits. Brialla looked into the sentinel’s eyes, and then, for a moment, saw nothing.

Kerendra’s lips to hers. The back of her head, pushed against the soft side of the bed. Hands underneath her arms, hauling her up, letting her fall back on the bed, unsupported. Atop her own, bound wrists. Strong hands, uncompromising grip, lifting her by her waist and by her butt, pulling her a little closer to the edge. Arranging her, finding the backs of her knees, and bending up her legs, pushing her, only then, up the bed. Kerendra crawled onto it, and it creaked. Bent over the small blood elf, knees wide to make room for herself, that heavy girth let slip, falling with a weighty smack onto Brialla’s stomach. Ground a few inches upwards, so that those churning balls spilled against the back of her bent thighs, against her ass. She could not know how the sentinel planned to fit every colossal inch into her, but the spiraling, slowly pulsing feeling of pressure in her pelvis pushed her to forget such worries. Thick, beading precum rolled from the broad crown, down between her breasts.

Kerendra leaned further forward, forcing Brialla’s legs further up as she did so, placing a hand over the girl’s eyes as she leaned her head down, lips just barely touching the sin’dorei’s cheek. “What do you want, girl?”

“I want.. your…”

****, her hands tied, unable to see, and pressed down by the sentinel’s weight and muscle, she was powerless. In precisely the way she had never realized she desperately wanted. A way which robbed words from her, and so she tried again. “I want, your… huge…”

Kerendra kept spread fingers over Brialla’s eyes, but moved her thumb down, pressing it between lips that crawled and crept their way towards forming words and sentences. Interrupting the girl’s already slowed efforts, the tip of that digit pushing her tongue down. She swallowed, weight shifting above her. Kerendra pulled a few inches back, and then pushed forward, that hefty, steely behemoth grinding against Brialla’s stomach. Between her thighs, now angled up sharply to hang above her flanks. She wondered, again, how the monster had fit into her mouth. How it would now fit. And chose to let go of such worries, instead letting herself melt half away in the warrior’s grip.

Rolling, pressing herself up against the night elf’s shaft, holding on to already-interrupted breaths, she tensed, and found herself assisted by Kerendra’s rolling, rhythmic thrusts in her quest for release. Slipping, grinding against her clothes, making itself felt through them, the kaldorei’s heavy, fat dick **** her further along, but seemed to dangle ultimate release ever out of reach. Smoothly-veined skin around an iron core ceaselessly pushed her, that thick cumvein making a promise by its mere presence. And by the way it ground heavily against her, just right. In the right spot. She exhaled a shuddering breath.

Disappointed for only a moment as the sentinel withdrew her presence, hands at her waist, fingers digging in to almost tear the clothes from her body. Her pants, at least, and the undergarments below. Halfway down her thighs, trapping her still more effectively. However unnecessary it was. Brialla let out a straining, needy breath as Kerendra’s hands found the back of her calves, pressing downwards. Her bottom rose off the soft bedding as her feet came down to meet it, on either side of her head, her flexibility astonishing even herself. In a distant, unimportant fashion. The statuesque elf leaned down over her, blotting out the sunlight spilling in from outside, letting her feast on the heaving breaths that kissed her skin.

She wriggled, curling her fingers as best she could, trapped as they were beneath her. Shame abandoned long ago, she tried to curve and arch her back, trying to let her pelvis meet the slowly pulsing, heated monster of a cock, so that she might grind against it again. Held down, she could do only so much. Not enough. It was not her choice, though her wish was soon enough granted. Feet still beside her head, that beast pressed down against her, grinding against precisely the spot that lingered on the knife-edge between pain and overstimulation, and pleasure, for which she struggled to find words. No thoughts were adequate and, anyway, she cared not for thoughts.

“Please,” Brialla breathed, again.

Cruelly, Kerendra withdrew, pulled back, instead letting copious precum mix with the sin’dorei’s juices, smearing that broad cock-crown against her, leaning forward. Into the building pressure, the blood elf’s body having to adapt to the size of what it faced. A slow process, slickened or not, but not one without progress, though she leaned her head back, and then let her eyes roll back, frustration and pressure bubbling from her lips in the form of a long, wheezing curse.

“Fhhuuuu… uuuuhk. You’re too—fffhhn.” Brialla pulled her lower lip in between her teeth, swallowing her words, her breathing interrupted after each inhalation. Held, and then, as if breaking a seal, cascading from her, audibly. She grit her teeth, a high-pitched tone entering into the air caught in her throat before every exhalation. The sentinel’s monstrously thick cock stretched the limits of what she could handle, and, looking down to see what she could, past clothes and her own and Kerendra’s bodies, it seemed that the warrior was still just fitting that immense cockhead into her.

Before she could form and let words fly, lips met her own. Into which she breathed her objection, that it was too big. Captured and subdued, turning her complaints into sweet nothings, she scrunched her nose, and let lips caress her cheek, her jaw, her neck, along with those pronounced canines that the night elves had. If her arms and hands had been free, she might have wrapped them around the kaldorei. Or might have pressed them against her abs, trying to slow matters down. Brialla tried to catch her breath, letting the singular, guiding thought of the last full day fill her: She wanted the sentinel. Every fat, fucking inch. And she was rewarded for this thought with that immense cockshaft shifting, slipping another girthy inch into her tight, clenching cunt, beginning the conquest she so desperately wanted in earnest.

Another inch. And another. She arched her back off the bed further, grinding her teeth. Another colossal inch of treetrunk cock ground, was stuffed, into her small form, and she realized, then, that the pressure, the tightness, the stretch, was reinforced by the building bulge, shaped like the invading battering ram, lifted far enough off her normally flat stomach to be trapped between her and Kerendra. She allowed her lips to part, limbs tensing, then relaxing, the all-encompassing warmth still tingling and filling her, demanding its day in the sun all the more, now. Rising to the challenge of the sentinel’s inexorable, merciless, building thrusts.

Brialla let out a husky, straining groan as another inch was **** into her, grinding the rim of the crown against her just so. At just the right spot. Involuntarily, she let go a trembling breath, a rapidly repeating series of reflexively tensing muscles clamping down. Strong hands settled on either side of her head, holding it in place. Lips against her neck. Continuing, rolling thrusts, pushing. Pushing. Her chest burned, and she realized that she had held a gulp of breath in, and let it go. Her mind flooded, her cheeks and ears and chest and arms and stomach and thighs coiling, tightening until she could no longer contain the feeling, begging no one with a whimper that it be let go.

The spring was loosed, a rapid series of clenching, clamping, tensing movements, warmth and white-hot pinpricks of pleasure that expanded, filled her, and withered to nothing before the next came. A little too slowly to be entirely gone, and so she rode a cresting, orgasmic wave, Kerendra, all the while, rolling her hips in continual, demanding thrusts that fed more and more of that enormous shaft into the small sin’dorei, the bulge of her stomach moving ever upwards. She knew it, registered it, but could not separate the incredible pressure, fullness, from the heaving blossoms of orgasm – for a little while, at least, until she felt the sentinel nudge against her deepest point. A shock running through her, a jolt that made her gasp as that brutish, steely cockhead first kissed, and then mashed against her cervix.

Again, she would have reached to the sentinel’s stomach to push against it, if she could. Or reached for the kaldorei’s face, grasping her cheeks, making her focus elsewhere, slowing her down, but neither were possible. And though, beneath her, Brialla grasped at the covers and tightened claw-like fingers around them, she resolved let out a high-pitched exhale, and then a second, and a third, and found some semblance of balance. That short series of breaths seemed to alert Kerendra to her plight, as well, her rolling thrusts slowing, pulling backwards just a single inch.

Lips and teeth that had ravished and ravaged Brialla’s neck, collarbone, shoulders, and jaw, moved up to press against her own, then over her cheek, to the base of one pointed ear. At first, she tried to turn to keep meeting them, but as they moved away, she relinquished control. Squirmed, burned with the heat of near-orgasm, with the waning and waxing pain of Kerendra’s monster, the bulge upon the sin’dorei’s previously flat stomach making it clear that that huge, fat shaft ever rocked back and forth.

A little deeper, each time, the night elf reclaiming what she had given up, until the broad crown of her cock once more bumped against Brialla’s innermost wall, and then ceased bumping, merely pressing against it. She knew what the sentinel sought – knew it precisely. Thought it impossible, but in the same way that she had thought what they were now doing impossible, thus **** to concede against all reason that it may actually happen.

Brialla exhaled forcefully, her whole body gradually shifting further up the bed from the weight and strength applied to her, to make a home for that conquering, wrecking beast, the sentinel seeking ever-new depths, allowing not an inch of retreat. Not anymore. Rolling, hard thrusts sank in as far as they could possibly go, every time, and that little bit more that they sought only moved her further up the bed. Until, perhaps realizing that she was getting nowhere, Kerendra’s hands found Brialla’s shoulders. Pressed her down. Into the bed, and down to meet that hefty, hard dick.

No place left to run, Brialla’s eyes widened as she experienced the difference almost immediately. An explosion of intense pressure followed another, and another, and she knew, instinctively, that her most **** core was to be conquered. Slipping open just a little more for every thrust, grinding across that broad crown, steadily pumping precum directly into her womb as it drove forward. Forward. Until, at last, her cervix closed around and just behind its rim, locking it in place for a long moment.

The bulge had moved that much farther up her form, and, eyebrows raised, tears taking shape, she gasped a few words. “My-- My… my stomach, my... stomach—”

Still, there were those girthiest inches of cock left, and Kerendra would not be satisfied without bottoming out, clearly. The kaldorei moved a hand up to cup Brialla’s cheek again, dragging lips languidly over hers, then up. Over her nose, forehead, until the sin’dorei’s face found a home against the sentinel’s throat, feeling it vibrate as much as she heard the words that gave her the strength to continue.

“Good girl. A little more.”

An impossible, ludicrous demand. She acquiesced immediately, of course. “A—A little more—”

Kerendra’s overpowering form kept her in place, muscle and weight allowing her to go nowhere, not that she wanted to. Thoughts had melted away, her mind having reduced itself to emotion. Blossoming, bursting pleasure, tightness, clenching, strain, her body at once fighting and accepting the sentinel’s final, pistoning thrusts, the conquest complete. Beyond complete, her body, her womb, saturated and entirely filled with the kaldorei, those massive, final inches hammered in. Until their bodies met in a hard smack, which was repeated once. Twice. Once again, she felt those churning, weighty balls rise against her skin. Let a shuddering exhale go, her breath spreading across her sentinel’s throat.

Brialla’s body clenched, and tightened, and she rolled her eyes again, for a second time, more helpless than the last, abortive, staccato breaths and groans all she could manage to let go of as she clamped down around Kerendra, successive, tingling blossoms of pleasure making her forget herself. Releasing a last sliver of control, bubbling saliva wetting her lips and the sentinel’s throat as she gasped in orgasmic pleasure, held close nevertheless.

Allowed not a moment’s respite.

Kerendra, above her, adjusted her position. Near holding Brialla aloft, in her arms, the two moved as one, the sentinel changing so as to better be able to pound down and forward, into her prey. Her astonishingly durable, desirable blood elf. That obscene, long bulge running from the girl’s crotch and up to just under her bust should have been enough to make her tap out halfway, but she had refused to. She babbled spit and mewling pleasure, instead, and responding by clenching harder to every brutal thrust. Several inches pulled back, and then rammed, mashed back in, to the depths of the blood elf’s womb. Already, precum rolled and smeared and clung to every surface of it, but Kerendra sought more. Knew that they both did.

An overwhelmed sound escaped Brialla at every hilting, grinding thrust bottoming out in her, but she only leaned closer to the night elf, trying to rise to meet the rhythm that supplanted the effort poured into hammering home into her much smaller form. Kerendra’s breathing, already elevated, grew more ragged as they both worked towards a common goal. Absent, of course, those moments where Brialla trembled and gasped and came, again. As if trying to edge her sentinel, to push her over the edge, by those helpless climaxes.

It was working.

Planting her hands heavily atop Brialla’s shoulders, Kerendra lifted herself free from the smaller elf, from the breathing and salivating against her skin, giving herself more space to cram that immense cockshaft in to the hilt. Withdrew, until that massive crown began to slip, only to reverse and grind back in. As if she used that gripping, vice-like entrance to grind herself over the edge. Pounding relentless in, and in, and in, the bed starting to complain, for the first time since the large night elf had crawled onto it, though neither of the two paid it any heed.

The sun lanced through a drawn, wind-shifted curtain, playing over Kerendra’s sweat-sheened, tense abs, dancing to the pale skin of Brialla’s cock-bulging stomach, before the dusk of the room swallowed them again. Allowed them to get lost in the brilliant shine of luminous eyes. In the merciless thrusting, and the equally merciless shifting of the bed, smacking against the wall.

Someone might have complained, had it gone on long enough, but the sentinel was clearly at her limit. Claw-like fingers curling around Brialla’s shoulders, skin reddening, held with bruising ****, the kaldorei breathing rapidly as she pushed just the innermost, thickest inch in, and out. And then in, for the last time.

Muscle quaked with effort as Kerendra clearly overcame the last wall, clamping, tensing to the point of feeling a kind of rock against Brialla’s pliant, soft thighs, against her cunt, allowing her to feel the cruelly efficient biomechanical shockwaves that pumped the sentinel’s copious, thick ropes of seed forth. Hammering through that cumvein, the first cable of potent cum loosed with bruising ****, splattering into the sin’dorei’s depths.

There was no mercy, the second, rippling strand following the first with equal ****. A third, a fourth, Brialla letting out a capitulating, almost whining sound as her already bulging stomach grew rounder. Began to develop a dome, Kerendra’s endless, powerful, thumb-thick cords of seed pumping directly into her womb. Demanding space that could not be found, and so, raising that bulge, until it began to drown out the shape of the sentinel’s cockshaft.

Locked in her depths, there was nowhere to go but to seek out every nook and cranny, every hiding place, and so, she felt more and more certain, with every copious, massive load of swimmers, that the connection was made. Forged, forevermore.

Kerendra’s breathing, almost painfully strained for the longest time, at last began to come under her control again. To calm, to some extent, though the rapid quaking of muscle and pleasure continued. She was herself enough, at least, it seemed, to begin to withdraw. Still loosing those thick ropes, but with less ****, and less volume, even if it proved enough, as she pulled those monstrously fat inches back, to fill Brialla’s insides as she went.

When, at last, the sentinel and trader separated, that sluggish, ropy, viscous liquid spilled from Brialla, though much of it remained, for the time being, locked inside her womb. She doubted she could roll to her side, could move at all, her body still tingling with pleasurable weakness that she wanted to lie still and enjoy. Only one thing could make things any better, and that one thing soon found her.

“Going to… untie me, soon?”

The bed sprung and moved a little under her as the sentinel made her way onto it more completely, next to Brialla, and shifted closer. Very close. Skin against skin, an arm sneaking under her head, making up for the lack of a pillow.

“Do you really want to lie on your side, right now, little one? I’ll remove the bindings, if so.”

“In a… a little while, then,” Brialla said. Eyes closed, a silly, relaxed smile creasing her lips, her stomach still domed with sloshing seed. She did not want iit shifting in that moment. “Think the Priestess will be satisfied with us?”

“There will be many more breakfasts, whether she is or is not.”

“I’d… like that,” Brialla said. “Perhaps we can just lie here, and you can tell me about yourself. My sentinel.”

In response, Kerendra rolled onto her side, used her free hand to turn Brialla’s face, and gave her a lingering kiss.