Not really

As the sun rose higher, turning the auburn sky into a bright blue, the two nude beauties were losing the fight against slumber and sweetness. The taste of the other had lulled them into such a pleasant dream state that neither could bear to wake up and smell the roses, or anything else for that matter.

Silvia snuggled her face deeper into Hilda's bush, taking a big whiff of the honey that had been so graciously offered to her. The finest incense from the Underdark could no compare to the symphony of smells that was dancing in her nose, not that she had ever sniffed those incenses herself. Those were for the matriarchs, not little underdeveloped washroom sluts like her. What she ought to do was like her ladies clean, which she began to do in earnest. The texture of Hilda's hairy mound was scratchy on the dark elf's tongue, but that only made her more vigorous; the roughness was what she deserved.

Hilda was giggling in her half-sleep as she felt a tongue tickling her sacred treasure. She involuntarily let out a trickle of juices to feed the hunger mouth, as a good slut should do for her mistress. Who else could be partaking of her honey pot, after all? It surely didn't taste better than what was on her tongue, however, as a stronger current of sweet fluid was pouring into her open mouth. He giggles came out more as gargles as the liquid luck played with her taste buds, but she dared not swallow any of it. She needed permission for that, and a good girl always asked for permission. She'd eventually figure out how to ask with her mouth full, but she wasn't complaining.

This feedback loop of cum going from woman to woman kept the sweet sluts in their makeshift bed for the better part of the morning, their moans mingling with the sounds of birds and critters greeting the new dawn. Eventually, though, something had to give, right?