It was already evening when Roger came out of the Marquis's Mansion. He found a random restaurant to eat before returning to the hotel. As soon as he entered the door, he saw Randy and Elfa leading a large group of mercenaries to arm wrestle.
Because gambling and alcoholism can easily lead to fights, Roger strictly forbids them to do so in the headquarter. These people are extremely bored and always think of some weird things to kill time. Arm wrestling is one of their daily entertainment programs.
"Hey, the captain is back." Randy saw Roger from a distance and waved his hand. "How is it? Didn't the Marchioness throw you out?"
"I'm not you. I don't have that chance."
Randy walked out of the crowd, came over to Roger, and whispered in his ear: "Find some time to see Matar. I think she seems to be worried about something. She looks sick and hasn't eaten much today.
All I saw her eat was one steak all day. I tell you, this girl usually eats seven steaks, so this is a bit unusual."
"How do you know it so clearly?" Roger glanced at Randy.
"Are you kidding? I'm the deputy captain. It's my job to care about the situation of every subordinate." Randy showed off his golden badge engraved with the statue of Hades, looking very proud.
Because Randy was experienced and efficient, Roger gave him the position of deputy leader after repeated consideration. Randy usually took care of many affairs in the group. He was also a workaholic, and he was very dedicated to every detail of the work in the group. He managed the whole mercenary group in an orderly manner.
"Okay, I'll go check her out." Roger responded and walked up the wooden ladder to the room upstairs. Matar was one of his generals, and he couldn't let her down at the critical moment.
There are several guest rooms on both sides of the upper floor, and a long corridor leads to Roger's room at the deepest part. Roger specially hired someone to renovate these old guest rooms, and found some handicrafts to decorate them, making each room very warm.
Randy, Matar, Elfa and Lilith each had a separate room, while the new mercenaries had four in a room.
Matar's room is the second room to the left of Roger's room.
Standing at the door of Matar's room, Roger knocked gently. There was no response from inside.
"Martal, are you there?" Roger called out, trying to raise his voice.
Still no response.
"Matar, I'm in?" Roger raised his voice again.
Still no response.
The wooden door was locked, but Roger didn't care about the lock at the moment. He pulled out the dagger from the sole of his shoe, cut off the lock, pushed the wooden door and walked in.
As soon as he entered the room, he saw a large bathtub. The water inside had already turned cold. It seemed that it was used by Matar for bathing in the afternoon. On the table next to the bathtub were Matar's spear and black gold dagger, which were shining with a dark luster.
He looked towards the bed. The boots were neatly placed beside the bed, the bedding was in a mess, and Matar dressed in frock like dress, was lying on the bedding, and facing him in a strange posture.
Yes, it was very strange. She supported herself with both hands on the bed, kneeling on the bed like a puppy, with her buttocks raised high, swaying gently. She let out a series of low moans, as if she was enduring some pain.
"Matar? Are you okay?" Roger walked forward cautiously.
"Oooooww... Oooow... Oooow..." Matar let out the mournful cries unique to wild beasts, weakly.
Hearing Roger's voice, Matar turned her head to glance at him, then slowly turned back, as if she had just seen a ball of air. Her eyes were red, and her body was shaking uneasily.
"Are you sick? Do you want a priest to come and see you?" Roger stepped forward and patted Matar on the shoulder. He just remembered that Elfa seemed to know some healing spells, but then he thought again that Elfa only knew simple spells to heal wounds, but for this kind of disease, it would be better to ask a priest who specializes in healing diseases to come over.
"Ouch!"
It would have been fine if he hadn't patted her. When he did, Matar suddenly jumped up and rolled over to push him away. Then she pounced on him again, with a fierce look on her face, as if she wanted to eat him alive.
In a hurry, Roger's left eye's guardian pupil opened instinctively, and a holy light surrounded Roger. Matar's momentum was too fierce, and she hit the holy light and bounced out, hitting the wall hard. She screamed and fell to the ground.
"Ahhh!''
With the sound of the wall decorations falling to the ground, she actually made several cracks on the wall. The guys downstairs were having fun, and the noise was deafening, so no one noticed the scream and the sound of hitting the wall.
"Matar!" Roger ran over and hurriedly helped Matar up. He wanted to see where Matar was injured, but when he touched her body, he felt like he had touched a boiling iron pot. It was so hot. He looked at her body again. Due to her high body temperature, she was sweating all over.
The sweat not only wet her long hair, but also made her frock like dress, which was originally made of very little fabric, even tighter, which made her curvy and fit body even more prominent.
Roger swallowed his saliva and shook his head again. He was still rational and knew that saving people was the most important thing. But the little brother under him seemed a little too straightforward and shamefully stupefied.
"Hey, a big stick?" In a daze, Matar actually grabbed Roger's little brother, which was hard and hot even through his pants, and shook it in confusion.
"Hey, Matar! Don't touch this." Roger hurriedly took her hand away.
"It's a big stick!" Matar suddenly became excited. "I want a big stick!"
As she said this, Matar suddenly returned to the kneeling position she had just taken, shaking her buttocks towards Roger. Roger looked closely and saw that Matar's vagina was already soaked with either vaginal fluid or sweat.
"Come in, big stick! Come in quickly!"
If one could still endure this situation, then he must be a eunuch without a penis. Roger's brain, which had long been dominated by his lower body, could not think of anything else. Seeing Matar posture, he instinctively reached out and neatly took off her dress with little difficulty.
Healthy greenish orc skin, perfect hip curves, and a pink slit without any hair.
Roger could see clear juice slowly flowing out from there.
Putting his face close to her, Roger smelled the scent of grass, like the faint scent of grass and soil in the fresh air after the rain, plus the faint smell of the lower body coming from the vagina. It was like a torch with a lit fuse, and Roger's mind went blank with a swish, leaving only two words - fuck her!
Gently spreading Matar's buttocks apart, Roger put his fingers into her vagina and touched it, getting his hands covered with her vaginal fluid.
"Oooooh...aghh..." Matar let out a cry that sounded like both a human and an animal.
Roger tried to stretch out a finger, gently inserted it into the honey hole, and slowly pumped it a few times. Well, it was very tight, as if something was sucking on the finger, warm, wet, and very comfortable.
"Ah... so good! Ah... eh? Not a big stick!" Matar turned her head in confusion, and when she saw Roger's hand twitching her lower body, she said dissatisfiedly: "I need a big stick, this one is too thin!"