A mistaken identity

Before Elarinya could fully lower herself onto me, she paused, holding my rigid length right against her soaking entrance. A wicked, knowing grin spread across her lips as she looked up, signaling the two tall male elves who had been watching us from across the cushions.

Confused, I wondered why they moved closer. Were they trying to get a better view?

Without a word, the two muscular males slid over, their massive frames effortlessly crowding the small space. They stood right beside me, their heavy, fully hardened lengths flexing prominently just inches from my face. I froze, an overwhelming wave of sheer confusion washing over me as I tried to process why these massive elves were suddenly trapping me between their bodies. I had assumed I would only share this moment with Elarinya... yet my gaze kept darting to the sheer, imposing masculinity pressing in from either side.

“So, the rumors are true,” the silver-haired elf murmured, his deep voice vibrating right through me, “Word traveled all the way from the southern ports that humans are the most decadent and accommodating creatures of all. They say when a human male is in heat, he gladly opens himself to the whole canopy.”
“An insatiable breed, from what the traders tell us,” Lythirn added from just behind my shoulder, his low chuckle confusing me even further.

I swallowed hard, my brain desperately trying to put two and two together. Decadent? Accommodating? Who on earth had they been talking to?! I wanted to object, to explain that Beornian men definitely didn’t do this, but I scarcely wanted to open my mouth with their large members so close to it.

Sensing my utter bewilderment, Elarinya leaned down, her heavy breasts brushing my chin as she whispered.

“Don’t tell me a prince would turn down two of Astranaar’s finest? Duskleaf and Korenmoss are our most prized males here!”

Unable to answer, I simply blinked as I was completely put on the spot by their bizarre cultural assumptions.