Yes.

Dew gasped, the heat of her body warming the cold, damp stone she writhed against. The soft sighs of an elf lost in the throws of lust were almost musical. By comparison, Myria’s throaty cries seemed shockingly loud, echoing round the chamber.

“Too… loud…” the duelist murmured. The small part of her mind that wasn’t overcome with desire knew that the noise she would making would soon attract more Cave Toads. Worse, she knew that that was what she really wanted – another Toad to **** and fuck and master her and–

“No!” she moaned, struggling with her carnal urges. Desperately, she rolled over and propped herself onto her hands and knees. She crawled forward, moving awkwardly as she kept one hand between her legs. Once, she fell over and almost gave up, but the same will that had driven her to become a skilled fighter pushed her on. She wasn’t about to give up and submit to being a frog-man’s sex ****, no matter how appealing the prospect sounded.

She collapsed beside Dew. With a final surge of effort, she leaned forward, and locked her mouth round the only thing she could think of that would occupy her attention enough to muffle her – one of Dew’s soft, pale breasts.

Although she had never pleasured another woman before, her tongue found Dew’s nipple and began to tease it as skilfully as any of her own lovers had done. The elf’s eyes rolled back in her head, and she began to convulse with pleasure so violently that Myria thought she’d be shaken loose, or possibly kicked by a flailing leg.

The pair climaxed almost together. Feeling her release was within reach, Myria drove three fingers deep into herself, up to the knuckle. It was all she could take; her legs kicked out and before she could stop herself she bit down on Dew’s tit. The pain only seemed to enhance Dew’s pleasure, and a moment later she went rigid, quivering all over before falling back with an ecstatic gasp.

Myria stood shakily. “Are you… alright?” she asked.

Dew pushed herself up too. “I… I think so. The poison’s wearing off a bit. I think I can carry on.”

The two of them dressed carefully. Dew’s robes were ruined, and she was **** to improvise an outfit which mainly consisted of wrapping ragged strips of its remains around her breasts and hips. She was still painfully aroused, and the silk rubbing against her almost made her give in and start masturbating again.

For Myria, it was even worse. Her clothes were mostly intact. Her leather armour was attractively form-fitting – meaning that while most of Dew’s skin was exposed to the cool, soothing air of the caves, Myria’s body was being rubbed against by her clothes. The way the leather pressed against her hard, sensitive nipples and the swollen, wet lips of her pussy was almost more than she could bear.

“We… we need to move on,” she panted. “Cecilia… it’s been too long since we left her. I think something’s wrong…”