Not yet!

Aliara had almost forgotten that she was supposed to be hiding. The scene in front of her was enrapturing: not just the base carnality of it, but the evident bonds of love and camaraderie. Their congress was as debauched as any drow noble might want, yet it was not just empty hedonism. Their lovemaking served to unite them, to reinforce the strands of loyalty and devotion that kept them together. Friends, lovers, allies, partners: the distinctions between those terms melted away, leaving only the self-evident truth that they were a group. A rising pang of jealousy pricked at Aliara's heart-- not for their bodies (though they were fine specimens), but for that kind of companionship and belonging. Aliara had had her share of sexual thrills. She even remembered most of them. And yes, she'd been in love before. But this... this was something else, casual and free, sex not for conquest or even romance but for the simple joy of closeness and intimacy with a treasured friend.

Her attention was entirely fixated on the lurid scene before her, so her hands were free to go about their own business. One of them snuck down to her smallclothes, stealing across her navel and lingering on one damp thigh. She had not shaved herself in some time, and a small thicket of fine hair thatched her mound. It was soft as cornsilk and parted before her fingertips.

Her clit was awake and responded to her light touch. She brushed her thumb across its hood, then formed her first two fingers into a V and nestled her pearl between them. Slowly, with exceeding tenderness, she began to rub herself back and forth. Her fingertips stroked along her lips while the insides of the V massaged her clit. She began to move her hand in a semi-circle, pressing down with the pads of her fingers with just enough pressure that she could feel it. Her body responded at once, spreading warmth from her loins and an electric tingle up her spine. A lump formed in her throat. Her fingers quickly became slick and sticky. Her nipples stiffened, brushing against the coarse fabric of her tunic. Her breathing grew shallow, and she stifled a tiny moan in her throat lest it betray her presence.

Not that the adventurers in front of her were likely to notice her. They were all in their own little worlds. Talia lay on her stomach on Kurk's knee, her lower legs kicked up behind her. She was massaging his balls with his left hand and planting kisses all up and down his half-hard shaft. Lotho and Rhuyem had withdrawn a few paces and knelt on the floor in passionate embrace. Their lips were locked together, their eyes closed, chest to chest and hip to hip. Lotho's fingers curled through Rhuyem's long grey hair. That hair cascaded down across Rhuyem's shoulders like a waterfall, and despite the exertions of the day it still looked as clean and smooth as silk. Lotho's fingers, by comparison, looked ruddy and savage. He twisted a lock of that hair in between thumb and forefinger and Rhuyem broke off the kiss with a gasp. Lotho plunged his head towards the other man's neck and began to shower it with kisses.

"Oh," the elf sighed, "oh, Lotho, yes, like that, yes, my dear, my love..."

Lotho growled in his throat and broke off. He pushed himself to his feet, planting his hands on Rhuyem's shoulders for stability. His cock drooped in front of the elf's face: not as large as Kurk's, not nearly, but well-formed and sturdy. It was already stiffening again. Rhuyem stared at it with hunger sparkling in his eyes. Lotho reached down and laid his right hand flat against the side of Rhuyem's head. His thumb caressed the elf's long, pointed earlobe. The two of them stared at each other for a moment, then Lotho smiled.

"Put that cock in your mouth, you knife-ear slut," he said. "I want to see how much you can take."

Aliara shivered. How often had she heard that same epithet, either directed at her or at some other luckless member of her race? Sometimes the speaker had been an elf herself. The drow, especially, reveled in degrading their surface-dwelling cousins with the foulest insults dreamed up by the other races. And yet... there was undeniable affection in Lotho's words, and Rhuyem took eagerly to his task. He was grinning as he slid the human's prick-tip into his mouth and ran his tongue along its surface. Aliara, too, had more than once shuddered to climax under such degrading words. Sometimes the bedroom was the safest place to work out pent-up insecurities. Sometimes the tone mattered more than the content.

Rhuyem certainly seemed to think so. He took to his task with enthusiasm. One hand wrapped around Lotho's thighs and gripped the man's muscular buttocks. The other reached up to play with his balls, cupping them in its palm and jiggling them back and forth. Rhuyem slid Lotho's cock deeper into his mouth, nearly bottoming out, before pulling himself off of it with a wet smack. He canted his head sideways and took one of those balls in his mouth while his hand encircled his partner's shaft. His cheeks hollowed out as he began to suck, his lips extended into a snoutish aspect. Rivulets of precum ran down Lotho’s shaft and squished between Rhuyem’s fingers. Soon both of them were glistening in the light of the glowing staff. Rhuyem let Lotho’s balls roll off his tongue and returned to his cock, letting it nestle just between his lips.

Lotho evidently took this as a signal. Either that, or he had run out of patience. He reached down with his free hand and grabbed Rhuyem’s head with his other hand. His fingers splayed out, nearly encircling the elf’s skull. Lotho thrust his hips forward at the same time as he pulled his arms back, forcing his cock down Rhuyem’s throat to the hilt.

GLLLK! A wet, glottal noise erupted from the elf’s throat as six inches of meat displaced his tongue and uvula. A few droplets of drool shot out from the edge of his mouth.

Lotho remained like that, planted in Rhuyem’s throat, for just a second or two before withdrawing. His cock emerged with a wet plop. Rhuyem had time for a single, quick breath, and then Lotho was barreling forward again. He thrust and withdrew, thrust and withdrew, fucking his partner’s mouth with animal ferocity. The noises coming out Rhuyem’s throat were astonishing, a chorus of wet gurgles and butter-churning noises.

PLLLB! GPPBBTHH! SPPPPPTTTHH!

Yet through it all the elf’s eyes remained open and stared up at his lover with something like reverence. His throat worked to accept each thrust. His own cock was stiffening, Aliara could see it standing proud between his thighs, and one of his hands dropped down to fondle himself. Aliara’s own self-manipulation increased in intensity as she grew wetter, and she began to slide her fingertips up between her labia and brush them against her inner walls. There were places there, sensitive places, and she sought them out for special attention. She had to bite her knuckle to keep from moaning. There was something about watching Lotho and Rhuyem together. Elf and human, meeting and joining, just as Aliara’s parents had. It was a pairing that had so often gone wrong, with elven maidens despoiled by human captors and elf slavers making cruel use of human cargo. Yet despite the intensity of their coupling, Rhuyem and Lotho were clearly equals. A part of Aliara, a cynical part that never stopped watching and judging even in the throes of arousal, saw and approved.

Equals or not, their fornication was, if anything, growing more intense. Lotho’s eyes were closed and his hips sawed back and forth. With each thrust of his hips, Rhuyem’s cheeks puffed out and a slight bulge formed in his throat. His own motions were growing more frantic, and his cock twitched. His hand blurred around it, and soon enough, a few bright ropes of silvery fluid sparkled in the air. One splashed against Lotho’s calf, while the rest landed on the floor of the cave.

“What was that?” Lotho asked, withdrawing his cock. A bridge of saliva and throat slime connected his glistening head to Rhuyem’s lips. The elf sagged, gasping for breath. “Did you just cum, wizard?” Lotho asked with a devilish smile. “Before me?”

“I’m… sorry,” Rhuyem breathed. “I didn’t…”

“Oh, you’re not sorry yet, my lad,” Lotho said. “But you will be.” He grabbed Rhuyem by both shoulders and pushed him roughly to the ground. The elf rolled onto his back, his legs flying into the air. Before he could recover his equilibrium, Lotho was on him, pouncing like a jaguar. He grabbed one of Rhuyem’s ankles in each hand and spread them apart, revealing the elf’s puckered butt. Rhuyem giggled and squealed in mock alarm.

“Lucky for you I’m good and lubed up already,” Lotho growled. He shimmied closer until they were touching, the front of his thighs pressing against Rhuyem’s jiggling buns. “You ready?”

By way of answer, Rhuyem reached down and grabbed his butt cheeks with both hands, spreading them wider than ever. Lotho chuckled and thrust his hips forward, hilting his prick in the elf’s ass in a single blow.

Rhuyem’s eyes shot open, but his lids quickly drooped, his mouth crinkling into a satisfied smile. Lotho began to thrust with short, sharp strokes, each one lifting the elf partially off the cave floor and dropping him back down.

WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! The chorus of skin smacking on skin filled the air. Lotho was grunting, too, but it was Rhuyem who made the most noise. His high-pitched moans filled the air and echoed off the chamber walls. They were lilting, almost musical: sounds of pure pleasure, pure delight.

Talia, on the other side of the room, lifted her head. “Quiet, Rhuyem!” she hissed. “You’ll wake our guest!”

Either he could not hear her or he simply didn’t care. His moans only grew louder and more fervent. There were fragments of words in there, declarations of love and oaths of service, but what little sense they had was lost in the tide of ecstasy. The light from his staff flickered as though linked by sympathetic magic to its master’s mood. Rhuyem writhed to and fro, grinning madly. Lotho was all over him, planting kisses on his slim chest, his bare cheeks, the crown of his head, and of course his long and slender ears. Aliara rubbed frantically at herself, all pretense of stealth forgotten. Two of her fingers plunged into her sopping slit and emerged dripping, shlick-shlick-shlick. Her other hand quested beneath her tunic, pinching her nipples between thumb and forefinger and rolling them back and forth. She lost her balance and toppled backwards out of sight.

She could no longer see Rhuyem and Lotho but she could still hear them: the slap of skin on skin, the elf’s wild cries and the humans muttered growls. The tempo of the sounds increased until Lotho let out a single, choked cry. The meaty thrusting sounds cut out, and Rhuyem’s moans of pleasure died away to nothing. The cave was silent but for Aliara’s racing heart. She sighed and let herself melt. A familiar white light swallowed her up, momentarily blanking her thoughts. She rode it out, letting the waves of climax wash over her one at a time. Her toes curled and her vaginal muscles spasmed, tugging gently at her fingers. She let her hand go limp and fall to the floor, and for a moment, she lay there in satisfied silence.

Gradually, thought crept back. She felt curiously unashamed, though had the tables been turned she knew she would object to being spied on. She pulled herself up onto her knees and snuck another glimpse out of her hiding spot. All four adventurers were slumped together, their limbs tangled around each other. They were not asleep, but basking in the afterglow. For a single, powerful moment, envy outpaced even Aliara’s sense of satisfaction. They shared a bond, and no matter how friendly they were to her, she was outside of it.

For now, she told herself. They offered you the tonic. That door is open.

Yet to walk through it would be to close off other doors, perhaps forever. She was not sure she was ready to do that. And right now, her mind churning with fatigue and buzzing with post-orgasmic exaltation, was not the time to make such decisions. She padded silently away on the balls of her feet, stealing back to their campsite and curling up into her bedroll. Her underwear were soaked, so she slid them down her legs and gently set them by the fireside to dry. With a little luck, none of the others would notice.