It’s a party

Seeing my helpless reactions and the shameless arch of my back was apparently all the catalyst the rest of the room needed.

Lythirn was the first to give in, tossing his empty goblet aside with a low chuckle. He pulled another male elf into his lap, his hands exploring with practiced ease as they met in a passionate, open-mouthed kiss. Right beside my head, Elarinya let out a soft, breathless gasp. Her golden eyes flicked from my flushed face down to where Duskleaf was driving into me, and without a second thought, she reached for a nearby female elf, pulling her close so their full, bare breasts pressed together in a tangle of limbs and murmured praises.

Within moments, the entire room dissolved into a hedonistic and chaotic blur of touching bodies, soft groans, and shifting velvet cushions. The night elves had abandoned all pretenses of being mere spectators; the air grew thick with the intoxicating scent of moonberry wine and raw, uninhibited desire.

Pinned on all fours right at the center of it all, my human brain completely broke. Every direction I looked, gorgeous, magical elves were unabashedly indulging in each other, completely unbothered by clothes, decorum, or noble restraint. Being the focal point of a full-blown elven spectacle, hearing their hushed, breathless cries echo around the room while Duskleaf maintained his steady, merciless pace inside me... it sent my senses into total overload. I couldn’t look away, and the sheer, scandalous magic of the sight threatened to push me to my limit... no, it already had!

My body buckled under the sudden, explosive wave of heat, any remaining shred of regal dignity vanishing as a loud, completely un-princely moan tore from my chest. I collapsed forward onto the velvet cushions, trembling violently as my climax hit me with the force of a battering ram, spilling across the fabric while Duskleaf held my hips tight through his own shuddering finish. The room around us echoed with a chorus of breathless groans as the collective frenzy reached its peak, leaving me completely spent, gasping for air, and thoroughly ruined amidst the tangle of satisfied elves.

Panting heavily with my face half-buried in the plush pillows, I weakly muttered to myself, “Alonsus, forgive me... that devious wine... what kind of cursed aphrodisiac potion did you put in it, Lythirn?”

Lythirn, reclining lazily beside Elarinya with a thoroughly amused grin, let out a soft, melodic laugh.

“Aphrodisiac? My dear prince, moonberry wine is just sweet fermented fruit. There isn’t a single drop of magic in it.”

My heart instantly dropped into my stomach. No magic? No spell? I stared blankly at the carved ceiling in horrified, breathless realization: my complete lack of control, my shameless arching, and my overwhelming enjoyment hadn’t been the wine’s doing at all. It was just... me.