Ethan, Mira, and Elara left Eldoria's gates at first light, horses laden with supplies for the three-day trek to the Ruins of Thalor. The quest notice had been torn down from the board by Ethan himself — a silver-preferred job, but his bronze rank with "special recommendation" from the guild master (thanks to yesterday's spectacle) cleared him. Reward: 50 gold, baron's favor, possible artifacts.
As they rode through the outskirts, a messenger on a swift steed intercepted them. The boy, out of breath, handed Ethan a sealed parchment bearing the Vortigern crest.
"From the Baroness, sir. Urgent."
Ethan broke the seal. The note was brief: Regretfully, tonight's invitation is postponed. Beastkin scouts spotted on the southern border — my husband requires my presence for emergency council. We will reschedule soon. Yours in anticipation, Lady Vortigern.
He smirked, pocketing it. A convenient delay — the system had pinged a minor "interference event" overnight, likely to build tension. Mira and Elara exchanged glances, sensing his amusement.
"Baroness called off?" Mira asked, riding closer, her short skirt riding up to expose thick thighs.
Ethan's hand casually slipped under the fabric as they rode side by side, fingers tracing her inner thigh just inches from her heat. "Border troubles. Means more time for us on the road."
Mira bit her lip, squirming in the saddle as his fingers brushed her damp panties. "Master… here? The road's open…"
Elara watched from his other side, cheeks flushing. Ethan reached over, pinching her nipple through the thin top until she gasped. "That's the thrill. Imagine if a traveler passed — seeing you two dripping for me like sluts."
The teases continued throughout the day. At a stream stop for water, Ethan pulled Mira behind a boulder, bending her over and fingering her roughly until she squirted on his hand, whispering, "Quiet, or Elara hears how much wetter you are than her." Elara got her turn during lunch — Ethan pressing her against a tree, grinding his hard cock against her ass while sucking marks on her neck. "Beg for it later, healer. Show me how a widow aches."
By evening camp, both women were desperate, eyes glazed with need. But Ethan held off — "Save it for the ruins. Focus."
The second day deepened the wilderness. Farms gave way to untamed hills, goblin tracks occasional but old. Ethan scouted with Mira, his hand "accidentally" slipping inside her skirt during stealth checks, fingers curling deep until she trembled. "Don't cum yet," he commanded. Elara's tease came at a river crossing — Ethan "helping" her across by lifting her, fingers plunging into her pussy mid-stream until she nearly fell, whimpering.
Night two: a small cave for shelter. Ethan finally allowed release — but only edging. He had Mira grind on Elara's thigh while he watched, denying orgasms until they begged. "Good sluts earn it tomorrow."
The third day reached Thalor.
The ruins loomed like forgotten bones — crumbling stone towers overgrown with vines, faint blue lights pulsing from cracks in the earth. The air hummed with residual magic, making skin tingle.
System pinged: [Dungeon Entry: Thalor Ruins – Level Appropriate. Threats: Undead, traps, guardian spirits. Rewards: High.]
They tied horses and ventured in, Ethan leading with sword drawn. Mira scouted flanks, Elara ready with healing runes.
First chamber: collapsed hall with skeletal warriors rising from dust — five undead, rusted swords swinging.
Ethan charged. Combat Flow activated — he weaved between strikes, blade cleaving through bone with crunches. One skeleton lunged; he parried, riposted into the skull. Another swung low; he vaulted over, landing with a downward slash that shattered ribs.
Mira darted in, dagger flashing to hamstring one. Elara blasted a light rune — holy energy disintegrating another.
All down in under a minute.
Deeper: trap corridor. Pressure plates triggered darts. Ethan's instincts glowed warnings — he guided them through, teasing as they paused: fingers slipping into Elara's shorts, making her moan mid-step. "Focus, or you'll get us all pricked."
A puzzle room: ancient runes requiring magic alignment. Elara solved it, hands glowing — door opening to the core chamber.
Guardian: a spectral knight, ethereal armor glowing, massive greatsword.
It roared, swinging in arcs that cracked stone.
Ethan dodged the first blow, countering with a thrust that phased through — magic resistance.
"Elara — buff me!"
She chanted, light enveloping his blade. Now it bit deep.
The knight charged; Ethan rolled under, slashing legs. It turned, sword slamming down — he blocked, arms straining, then sidestepped and riposted into the helm.
Mira threw daggers at joints, distracting. Elara hurled weakening runes.
Ethan leaped, blade piercing the core — spirit shattering in a burst of light.
Victory.
Loot: mana crystals (system absorbed for +100 Magic Affinity), an ancient amulet (Skill Unlocked: Aether Sense – Detect hidden magic/milfs), gold trinkets worth 20 coins.
Return to Eldoria took two days — teases intensifying. Ethan edged them relentlessly: fingering Mira during rides until she begged, making Elara suck him off at camp while Mira watched without touching.
Back in the city, Ethan sent them on "important work."
"Mira — scout the merchant quarter for rumors on the baroness and border issues. Elara — check the healer's enclave for mana supplies and dungeon intel. Meet back at the inn by midnight."
They pouted, thighs rubbing together from days of relentless edging, but obeyed — kissing him deeply before departing, promises of punishment if they failed.
Alone, Ethan headed to the Silverwood Embassy — a graceful building of living wood and crystal in the noble district.
Lirael greeted him personally at the door, her usual diplomatic robes replaced by a sheer emerald evening gown that clung to every curve like a second skin. The fabric was nearly transparent in the lantern light, revealing pierced silver nipples already hard, the shadow of her shaved mound, and the elegant lines of her lithe body.
"Welcome, Ethan," she said, voice breathy, emerald eyes already glazed. "My gratitude… awaits in private."
The dinner was a pretense — exotic elven fruits, sparkling wine — but tension crackled. Lirael's hand trembled pouring his glass, her thighs pressed tight as the claim throbbed inside her.
Halfway through, she couldn't hold back.
"I… I've thought of you constantly since the guild," she confessed, standing and moving to him. "My lord husband is distant… cold. But you… you make me burn."
Ethan pulled her into his lap, kissing her fiercely. She moaned into his mouth, grinding her soaked pussy against his hardening cock through their clothes.
He tore the gown open — silk ripping as he exposed her perfect elven body: perky breasts with silver rings through stiff nipples, flat toned stomach, wide hips, and a dripping, shaved cunt already clenching in anticipation.
"On your knees, envoy slut," he growled. "Show me how a married elf thanks her savior."
Lirael dropped eagerly, pointed ears twitching with shame and lust. She freed his massive cock, eyes widening. "So much bigger than my lord… so thick…"
She worshipped it — licking from balls to tip, tongue swirling around the head, tasting his precum with a filthy moan. Then she took him deep, gagging as he hit her throat, drool spilling down her chin onto her pierced tits.
Ethan gripped her silver hair, face-fucking her roughly. "That's it, choke on human cock, you high-born whore. Your enclave would disown you if they saw their envoy gagging like a common slut."
Lirael's eyes watered, but she sucked harder, fingers plunging into her own pussy, squirting on the floor as she came untouched from the degradation.
He pulled her up, bending her over the dining table — plates crashing to the floor. Her ass presented perfectly, pussy dripping down her thighs.
"Beg for it, married elf. Beg me to ruin your noble cunt."
"Please… Master… fuck your elven slave… stretch my tight pussy with your thick human cock… breed me like my lord never could!"
Ethan slammed into her — one brutal thrust burying balls-deep. Lirael screamed, back arching, walls clamping like hot silk around him.
He pounded her mercilessly — hips slapping her ass, making it jiggle, cock battering her cervix with every stroke. The table rocked, wine spilling.
"So fucking tight… your husband must have a twig. This elite pussy was made for human seed."
Lirael sobbed in ecstasy, pushing back. "Yes! He's worthless… you're my Master… ruin me!"
He spanked her hard — red handprints blooming on pale skin. She squirted again, juices splashing his balls.
He flipped her onto her back on the table, legs over his shoulders, folding her in half. This angle went deeper — head grinding her G-spot relentlessly.
"Look at me while I breed you," he commanded.
Their eyes locked as he hammered her. Lirael's pierced nipples bounced, tits jiggling wildly. She came again — pussy spasming, squirting in arcs that soaked his abs.
"Fill me… breed your married elf whore… pump my womb full!"
He pulled her hair, biting her neck as he sped up — savage, animal thrusts.
Switching again: he sat in a chair, pulling her to ride him reverse cowgirl. Lirael impaled herself, ass bouncing as she rode hard, grinding her clit against his balls.
Ethan reached around, fingering her tight asshole. "This hole next? Claim every part of you?"
"Yes… all holes… I'm your slave!"
She came twice more — squirting down his shaft, body shaking.
Finally, he stood, lifting her against the wall — legs wrapped around him as he fucked her standing, deep and punishing.
With a roar, he erupted — thick ropes blasting her cervix, flooding her womb until cum leaked around his cock. Lirael screamed through her final orgasm, nails raking his back, pussy milking him greedily.
He pumped until spent, then lowered her slowly, cum gushing down her thighs.
Lirael collapsed to her knees, licking him clean reverently, then kissing his feet. "I'm yours forever, Master. My body, my magic, my enclave's secrets…"
[Milf Acquired: Lirael Sylvanar (Elven Envoy, Married)]
[+150 Vitality | +100 Magic Affinity | Skill Unlocked: Elven Grace (Passive – Enhanced agility/stealth)]
[NTR Bonus x5: High Lord Distance Multiplier]
[+500 Power | Loyalty Imprint: Permanent | Diplomatic Access: Silverwood Enclave Unlocked]
She whispered intel between kisses: beastkin raids linked to a minor demon portal in the southern hills. The baron needed elven aid — hence her extended stay.
Ethan dressed, leaving her spent and leaking on the floor.
Back at the inn, Mira and Elara waited with reports: baroness rescheduled for tomorrow night, healer enclave confirmed demonic traces in Thalor crystals.
Ethan pulled them close. "Good girls. Tomorrow, we claim the baroness."
The web tightened.
To be continued…