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With the threat of goblins now behind them, it’s safe to say spirits are running high between the tieflings formerly stationed at the grove. Soon, they will start to make their perilous journey to Baldur’s Gate, but not before they’ve had an evening of celebration, to thank the woman who was their salvation.
Why anyone would stick their neck out for a group of strangers- tieflings, no less- is beyond their de facto leader Zevlor. So used to being reviled is the older man that he assumed the plight of his people would be ignored by the strange adventurer and her… interesting group of friends. At the very least, he had expected to be extorted by her, but when he had offered the little money he and the others had to spare, she had refused to take it. It was an act of decency he hasn’t seen the likes of in a long while, and he’d be lying if it didn’t stir something in him.
Alas, those are not feelings he can dwell on, tonight or any other night. She is young, vibrant, and about to embark on a journey somehow even more fraught with danger than his own. The last thing she needs is for him to make unwanted advances towards her, even if he is a little curious as to how she would feel beneath him.
Unbidden, his eyes trail over to the tiefling’s saviour, currently deep in conversation with the Druid Halsin. Doubtless she would rather spend her evening with him; there were few back in the grove that wouldn’t have given just about anything to spend an evening with the larger man. If he’s honest with himself, Zevlor would count himself amongst their number, but that doesn’t matter now. What matters now is the way the light from the fire dances across the younger woman’s skin, illuminating every small crease in her skin. How he’d like to kiss them all, and whisper his gratitude into her body…
His thoughts are torn away from her by Dammon, the blacksmith nursing the same drink he’s had for the last hour. ‘You can speak to her, you know? She doesn’t seem the type to turn down a conversation out of hand.’ Oh, but if the younger man only knew the true nature of his thoughts, he wouldn’t be so keen to encourage him; Zevlor knows he’s not the only tiefling to stare reverently at their guest of honour.
So he dismisses the blacksmith, shaking his head and taking a drink. ‘She has far better things to do than waste her evening talking to an old fool like me.’ As much as he wishes that wasn’t the case, Zevlor can’t change the reality of the situation. Maybe if he was a few years younger, he might have considered it, but at this point, even a fling seems like too great of an ask.
Dammon chuckles. ‘Something other than talking then? We aren’t blind, Zevlor. Anyone with eyes can see the way you’ve been undressing her with your own. Why not give it a try? The worst she can say is no. But I would do it sooner, rather than later. I don’t think there’s a man in this camp that doesn’t want her, myself included.’ With competition as stiff as the younger man, the former Hellrider can feel his already small chances dwindle even further. Why would she ever choose him, when she has so many better options?
Zevlor is about to fall on his proverbial sword and encourage Dammon to try his luck with the young woman when a third man joins them; Rolan, who has apparently had enough of performing semi-sober magic tricks for a less-than-enthused crowd. Has he come looking for conversation, or is he also here to comment on Zevlor’s staring?
As the wizard nudges his shoulder, Zevlor gets his answer. ‘I will admit, our little hero is a beauty, even if she does have a frustrating habit of sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong.’ Trust him to still sound so bitter over her convincing him to stay. The fight with the goblins never really came to a head, but on the road, his magic will still be more than useful. Even so, it only makes sense for them all to stay together; there’s safety in numbers, after all.
Zevlor sighs, his eyes still trained on the topic of their conversation, as she tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. ‘She saved us all without a thought, but wouldn’t even take a reward. If there were more people like her, the realms would be a much better place…’ A shame, then, that he has never met anyone else like her, and probably never will again. She is as unique as she is beautiful, and beauty is something she has in spades.
A look of mischief sparkles in Rolan’s eyes. ‘Maybe we didn’t offer her the right kind of reward? After all, I’m sure slaughtering all of those goblins must have made her so tense. Imagine how it would feel if she was to have the undivided attention of three men, helping her work out that tension…’ Just the mention of such a thing has Zevlor feeling scandalised. Sure, he’s heard tale of his fair share of orgies and the like, but to have one so casually suggested…
Dammon seems to be on the same page as the wizard, taking a moment to contemplate the idea. ‘You know, there’s nothing really stopping us from suggesting that to her. It’s not like we’re all traveling together, so if she shoots us down, we won’t have to deal with any awkwardness on the road. If we see her again, we just chalk it up to a drunken mistake.’ He finishes his drink then, and Zevlor wonders if that’s his attempt at steeling his nerves; does he really intend to go through with making such a proposition?!
Not that it would be a bad thing, if it’s something the four of them agreed to do. It would work well logistically too, with three cocks and three holes to fill. The younger men would undoubtedly argue over who goes where, but Zevlor is old enough to understand it’s better to take your pleasures wherever you can find them, no matter what form they take. Besides, it’s not as if there’s a piece of her he wouldn’t be happy to take, if the situation presented itself…
No. He can’t. These thoughts will ruin him.
Especially with the target of them fast approaching the three men, unaware of what she’s about to walk into.
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-
The night has barely even started, and already you’re pining for your bedroll.
It’s not that you’re not having any fun. Far from it, actually. It’s nice, seeing everyone being so carefree for a change. The entire camp is already saturated with the smell of wine, a scent you’re sure will linger for days once the party is over. Still, you’re grateful for the tieflings for allowing you to share in their celebrations. It’s been a memorable evening, the likes of which you are unlikely to experience again.
Now, if only you had a way to cap the night off with something truly unforgettable…
That seems unlikely. For all the sideways glances you’ve received from both comparisons and tieflings alike, no one has had the guts to proposition you, and it’s somewhat depressing. After all that slaughtering of goblins, a night of passion would have been a fantastic way to blow off some steam. Alas, it would seem that no one is interested.
At least, that’s what you had assumed, but you’ve just had a conversation with Halsin that has made you think otherwise.
You had intended to merely check on the druid, to see how he was fairing after his ordeal at the goblin camp, but he hadn’t been that interested in talking about himself. He was more keen to discuss the three pairs of eyes that have been following your figure around all evening, and the thoughts most likely lingering behind them.
To say that the revelation had surprised you would be an understatement. You might expect to be leered at by a wizard (if some of the stories you’ve heard about Elminster are in any way true), but the other two… The sweet blacksmith and the weary warrior, both of them with kind hearts weighed down by their pasts. All three have that in common, you suppose. They haven’t had easy lives up until now, and they probably aren’t going to get any easier anytime soon.
Maybe you can give them all a night to remember. A final calm before the storm, if they’re willing to share.
Now that idea is the most unlikely. Even as you approach them, all three of them staring at you, you’re beginning to get cold feet. You’re probably about to scandalise them all with your suggestion. The best you can probably hope for is for all of them to want you, but not share you. You’ll have to choose which one you want, which is a difficult task; the three of them are all so different, you’re not sure which one you’d pick.
As you stand before them, you know it’s too late to back down, and you brace yourself for what is most likely going to be a great source of embarrassment. ‘Good evening, gentlemen. Enjoying the party?’ You hope they are, genuinely. Even if they don’t want to take you up on their offer, they deserve to have a carefree evening.
It’s Zevlor that answers, as polite as always. ‘Yes, I believe we are. Nice to have a peaceful evening for a change, even if it has come at a cost…’ Arriving as late onto the scene as you did, it’s easy to forget that you didn’t get the chance to save everyone. Hells, the first time you arrived at the grove they lost someone. They’re likely to lose more on the road too, but there’s not much you can do about that; removing the tadpole from your brain has to be your priority.
Rolan scoffs. ‘I’d be halfway to Baldur’s Gate right now, if it wasn’t for you filling Cal and Lia’s heads with ideas. Your do-gooding had better not cost me my apprenticeship.’ Well, it would seem Halsin was wrong about something; the only reason this tiefling has been staring at you is because he hates your guts.
Zevlor frowns at the younger man, his disapproval clear. ‘You were singing her praises but a moment ago. You should be nicer to the woman we owe our very lives to.’ The praise makes your face feel warm, a sense of pride swelling in your heart. It’s good to know you could help them, even if you were helping yourself, also.
You wave away his concern. ‘It was nothing, really. I’m glad I could help, but I’m sure you could have handled yourselves if it came down to it.’ As a former Hellrider, you’re certain Zevlor in particular is a talented fighter, even if you didn’t get the chance to witness it firsthand.
It’s Dammon who answers this time, looking a little sheepish. ‘We couldn’t even handle one rogue druid, let alone an army of goblins. Don’t sell your efforts so short.’ He’s one to talk. He did something himself no one else could do; he helped Karlach, and he’s promised to help her again in the future, if he can.
All this praise has you feeling more lightheaded than alcohol ever could, and you get the feeling Zevlor is about to stoke those flames when he starts talking again. ‘You’re a good sort, for sure. You wouldn’t even take the reward you more than deserved. We aren’t used to people sticking their necks out for tieflings, but I’m pleased to have found an exception.’ It’s too much, really, and it does little past reminding you of the reason you came over here. If they’re really so enamoured by your actions, maybe they’d enjoy a night with their hero?
Rolan rolls his eyes. ‘All this flattery is nauseating. You’ve already thanked the woman enough. I think we can do a lot better than that.’ He stares at you then, scanning your body from head to toe with a hunger in his eyes. Well, you were at least right about one thing; it would seem this wizard is pretty horny. It seems like your wish for company is pretty much granted.
Dammon shakes his head, smiling fondly, yet somehow also managing to devour you with his gaze. ‘I think the flattery is well-deserved, but you’re right. We think we have an idea of a different kind of reward we could offer, if you’re interested?’ Holy shit. Are they… can they read minds, or did all of you happen to have the same idea?!
Zevlor seems to mistake your surprise for disgust, suddenly looking very uncomfortable. ‘We don’t wish to demean you with an offer like this, and if you would rather I personally sat this out, I’ll understand.’ What? Does he think you want him less than the other two? Or is he insecure about his age or something else inconsequential?
Despite his words, there is a hunger in Zevlor’s eyes, no different to the one you see in the other two men. It would seem the four of you want the same thing, and who are you to deny it?
So you give them all a coy smile, biting your bottom lip for effect. ‘You know, I was actually going to ask if the three of you wanted to go for a little walk. Somewhere more… private.’ Your comment earns you a few raised brows, but all three men are quick to dismiss their surprise; it is only causing them to waste precious moments they could be using to do other things.
Rolan is the first to recover from the initial surprise, inclining his head to the side. ‘I know of a lovely little spot. You should all follow me.’ The other two men give each other a look before deciding to go along with it, walking just behind Rolan as he leads them to an unknown destination. You of course follow them in turn, not shooting the camp so much as a backwards glance as you’re taken into the unknown.
This is about to be fun.
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-
The spot Rolan leads you all to isn’t all that far from camp, but it does give you privacy, as long as you don’t moan too loudly; whether or not you’ll moan at all is up for debate, but with three men trying, you’ll be more than disappointed if they can’t get you off at least once.
The moment you stop walking, it’s Rolan that does the talking, eyes already undressing you. ‘Well strip off, then. We’re waiting.’ Damn, he can be such an asshole… but damned if you don’t want him.
Dammon sneaks up behind you, placing his hands on his hips. ‘That’s not how you speak to a woman, Rolan. This is supposed to be about showing our appreciation.’ His lips caress your neck as his hands get to work, undoing the fastenings of your clothes.
Zevlor steps up then, standing before you. ‘Would you mind if I stole a kiss?’ It’s hardly stealing if he’s asking, but it’s sweet that he’s asking instead of just taking.
So you reach out to him, weaving your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. ‘Steal as many as you like. I want all four of us to enjoy this.’ Zevlor needs no further invitation, pressing his mouth against your eagerly. His tongue brushes against the seam of your lips, and you grant him entry, letting him enthusiastically plunder your mouth.
You have to unhand the older man as Dammon works your clothing off, leaving you in just your bra and underwear. ‘I’d like to kiss you too, but not on the mouth…’ He slides a hand into your underwear, his fingers stroking along the damp flesh he finds there. His movements only increase your desire, fueling the need inside you.
Dammon removes his hand, and you whimper into Zevlor’s mouth as the blacksmith falls to his knees, pulling your underwear to the floor. His tongue makes for your clit without hesitation, purring to himself as he tastes you for the first time.
Your hands bury into the hands of your lovers, completely at their mercy. You almost fall over when Dammon hooks your leg over his shoulder to give you better access, only for your back to hit something solid; Rolan. He’s behind you now, teeth scraping against your shoulder as he tweaks and tugs at your nipples, claws threatening to draw blood.
Zevlor pulls away, allowing you to take in a few gasps of air. ‘Incredible. We are lucky men indeed, to be able to spend an evening with you…’ His mouth trails along your jaw, an urgent need barely concealed between his soft lips. Your heel digs into Dammon’s back, the blacksmith responding by squeezing your asscheek and rubbing his thumb against your clit, taking your actions as wanting more.
An unfamiliar pressure assaults your asshole as something firm yet slick slides its way inside you. ‘Three cocks, three holes, and I am laying claim to this one. I’ve been dreaming of how my cock would look buried inside your ass ever since I met you. I’m sending you back to camp leaking with my spend…’ Fuck, that’s hot. You want it. You want every inch of his cock stuffed inside you, while the other men fill you elsewhere…
The man attacking your jaw moans into your skin, pulling away to mutter in your ear. ‘I’ll take anything you have to offer. I just need you.’ The sheer need in his voice, like he hasn’t taken a lover in a lifetime… maybe he hasn’t. Maybe you’re the first woman he’s touched in years…
A second finger slips inside your ass, and you climax, trying your hardest not to collapse as the pleasure of it takes over. The men surrounding you show no signs of slowing down, each of them working your body with fingers and lips until your body feels weightless between them.
Content with his work, Dammon pulls away, grinning up at you. ‘Thanks for that. You’re a real feast. If we’re debating positions, I don’t suppose you’d repay me in kind? I’d love to see what your mouth can do.’ After that? It would be an honour to wrap your lips around his cock, and try to bring him the same pleasure he granted you.
You use the blacksmith’s head to steady yourself as you remove your leg from his shoulder, allowing him to stand. ‘You all need to strip off, right now, and show me how much you want me.’ The needy moan Rolan makes behind you is almost enough to ascend your very soul, but you answer with a gasp of your own, his fingers leaving you so he can start tugging off his clothes.
The three men undress. Rolan is a frantic mess of clumsy fingers, while Dammon takes his time, carefully removing each garment in full view of you. Zevlor turns away from you, apparently shy as he too is methodical in his approach.
When all three men are naked, you instruct Zevlor to sit down, so that you can straddle his lap and rub your soaked folds along his cock. ‘You said you’d take anything. Is my cunt okay?’ You’re soaked enough that you’re more than ready for him to slip inside, if this is what he wants?
Zevlor closes his eyes, thrusting his hips up against you. ‘Please…’ Gods, that needy plea… You sink down on his cock, nails digging into his shoulders as he grabs your ass and fills you inch by inch.
You bounce yourself on his lap a few times before you feel a second cock against your cheek, Dammon standing proud and erect beside you. ‘May I?’ He nudges his cock against your lips, and you open wide, allowing him to slip inside your waiting mouth as you wrap a hand around the base of his cock.
As you work yourself into a rhythm with the two men, Rolan finally joins you, winning the fight against his clothing at last. ‘Finally. This might sting a bit, but you’ll love it.’ He mutters something under his breath as he sticks his fingers inside you again, until your ass starts to leak some kind of fluid.
Scissoring you a few times as the other two men use your body, Rolan seems satisfied that you’re ready, pulling out his fingers and shoving his cock inside you.
You scream around Dammon’s cock, unprepared for the sudden intrusion. With your lower half stuffed full, and your mouth wrapped around the blacksmith, you feel heavenly, even if your body is going to be sore for days after this.
Zevlor makes a small noise of irritation, half-cut off by his panting. ‘You shouldn’t… Treat a lady so roughly…’ His mouth makes to attack your breasts then, horns nudging your chin as he sucks and nips at your skin.
Rolan lets out a breathy laugh. ‘The lady seems to be enjoying herself just fine.’ Gods damn him, but he’s right. The way his rough thrusting into your ass contrasts with the steady thrusting of Zevlor’s hips, and the considerate movements of Dammon’s cock.
You close your eyes, drinking in the joy of being the centre of the tiefling’s attention. Each man is solely focused on your body, and the way their cocks feel inside you; it’s pure bliss, and you never want it to end, even as you fall apart around them, body twitching or vibrating to add to their pleasure.
It’s the man behind you that falters first, his thrusts becoming harder and deeper. ‘Here it comes, just as promised.’ He pushes inside you again before he moans against your neck, warmth filling your insides as he finishes inside you.
Dammon’s breathing becomes quick, his own end approaching. ‘Shit… pull away now if you don’t want my seed in your mouth.’ You have no intention of doing so, continuing to milk his cock with your mouth until he finally finishes, and you greedily swallow each drop he gives you.
Finally, Zevlor cries out, wordlessly finishing inside you as his claws dig into your ass cheeks, tail thumping and flailing helplessly on the ground.
All four of you struggle to catch your breaths, overwhelmed by what just happened. You wanted an eventful night, and by the gods, you got it.
You don’t know if you’ll ever see them again after tonight. Maybe one day, when you make it back to Baldur’s Gate, assuming they survive the journey…
No. Now is not the time to think like that. It’s the time to relax, and bask in the afterglow, knowing that no matter what, no one can take this night away from you.
If this is the kind of thanks you can expect, maybe you’ll save people more often.