Plow her into the cushions

Vessa licks, sucks and suckles your shaft, your balls and the bulbous head until your cock is fully engorged. You smile slightly and pull your cock out of her skilled mouth. "To the cushions. Offer yourself to your king." You yank at her leash, and she obeys. Laying on her back, her legs spread, she slowly lets her hands roam her body, her petite breasts, her legs, her mons. She spreads herself open for you, presenting her pink wetness. You crawl between her legs and rub your fat cock head against her snatch. Marissa gasps audibly as you enter the half-elf slowly, sinking your head into her hot folds. Moving her hips eagerly, she lets out the cutest moan. "Fill this worthless cumslut, Master." You feel an irresistible urge to rut with her, a primal impulse. Pictures from the book in her study flood your mind, of orgies full of lust and magic. Vessa squirms beneath you as you pin her into the cushions. "Hmmm...yes, let's test that assumption about fucking her for a week, my stud."

You look up at Marissa, and something in your eyes surprises her. Her lips curl to a smile. "Give it to her good. I want a show..."

With a growl, you push yourself into the whore's tight and wet slit. It wraps around every contour of your cock, its slick and hot walls pulsing against your hardness. A sudden sense of primal urgency grips you, and you begin to pound into her. Her moans and screams fill the room. Sweat glistens on your skin. You are in your own world, Vessa writhing under you in the grass. You are on that clearing with her, and a new vigour grips you. She moans, invites you subtly to be more rough. You feel being watched and plow harder into your cumslut, her pussy growing redder with each stroke. Deeper! Deeper! You bottom out in her at two thirds of your length, and she screams in pleasure with each stroke that hits her innermost walls.

But no matter how hard you thrust and pound, you cannot seem to cum. Frustrated, you growl, and flip her over, on all fours. Grabbing her collar for support, you continue to mercilessly rut her into the ground. Tongues tickle over your balls and breasts massage your back gently. You lose yourself to the rut, your heavy balls slapping against her ass with each stroke. Oh yes. You never felt so glorious before. "Yes...fuck her, my stallion." A sensual female voice purrs into your ears. "Maker her yours, mark her as your territory."

Vessa is gushing with her juices, and you don't notice as the handmaidens switch places with her again and again, before you finally plough into her again, deeply, chocking her with your hands and mauling her breast. A thunderous roar escapes the back of your throat as you are finally allowed to find release and orgasm, spurting thick globs of your virile seed deep into her womb.

Pulling out of her, you get up. Vessa coughs, barely moving, trembling, clutching the cushions. Thick white semen seeps form her pussy, and she is smeared with sweat, semen, cum and oil. Your cock, still hard, throbs angrily with no sign of letting up. Marissa crawls towards you on all fours, her udders swinging side to side. She kisses the head of your cock, shivering, and wiggles her backside at you.

You plunge into her and begin to fuck her vigorously, as if you had to make another heir in her belly. Command her. **** your will upon her. Do what must be done. "Give me your seed, my stud." Marissa growls, "Cum inside me." She moves against you, enticingly, trying to make you cum again. You stay hard and fuck her mercilessly, her juices drooling over your balls and forming a puddle between her legs. It would be her who would come first!

The restless battle who would cum first took forever. Lost in your heated carnal struggle, neither you nor Marissa notices Vessa grabbing your balls and preventing you from cumming again and again. With each stroke, you again grow more **** and wild. She is one of many mothers. Breed them all for me. Sate my hunger, my stud. You slap your wife's ass and **** a thumb in her tight hole. She moans sluttish as you move it inside of her. She is a pretentious whore, thinking she could play the big game. Worthless little slut servant. Claim her for me, and make her womb the breeding place for my hosts.

Marissa moans and wiggles under you, raising her ass high and biting the cushion beneath her, thrusting back against you as your heavy balls slap against her throbbing, red pussy. You give her ass a good smack and listen to the sound of your pelvis making her booty jiggle. Slowly, you lose yourself in the rhythm, a deep, primal throbbing in your loins and spreading into your veins until your whole being seems to reverberate with the drum rooted deep in the fibre of all things. In front of your mental eyes rises a picture...

Drums. Drums in the night.

A camp fire flickers to the slow rhythm, filling the cavern with a dulled orange. The air is heavy with the scent of burning pine resin, spices and a sweet, enthralling note of carnal activities. Moans, slaps, groans and the sound of dripping juices mix with the crackling fire. Painted flesh is pressed against painted flesh, sweat smearing the symbols into unintelligible, passion-ridden mush of blue and ochre. Men and women, women and women, men and men are joining in the holy rites, the walls of the cave painted with depictions of the most sacred of all days. In the fire's flickering flames, the paintings move as well, joining in the carnal pleasures.

You look down at your partner, a skinny, curly brunette, her ears pointy and her beautiful face contorted in pleasure. She feels heavenly soft and wet, her little moans and whimpers edging you on. You do not understand her language, but you understand what she wants. Her red eyes burn with passion and a desire that could only be quenched by what awaited, the culmination of the rites. When she would leave the cave, the spirits would find new hosts in her belly, but you would be no more...

It takes a long while for you to come down from your high. Marissa is a shivering, sweaty heap, collapsed into the cushions. Lavishly, you stroke your cock and look around. "Fiona, clean this mess up." Diligently, the maid sucks you clean. "And you, clean out my woman!" You yank on Vessa's collar. She obeys, crawling towards Marissa to lap up her juices and your white, thick cream that oozes out of her. The half-elf's nimble tongue sends her over the edge again, and screaming furiously your wife presses the shaved head hard between her legs until she slowly climbs down from her orgasm. Fiona kneels down in front of you, gives the engorged head of your cock a gentle kiss. The three maidens kneel in front of you, looking up at you expectantly and arching their backs to present their assets to you.