Medeister

Medeister

All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.
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Lunar Festival: A Scuffle over Coins!

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Finger Sparks and Fireworks!

That evening, Felina became acquainted with a high elven hunter from the Trueshot Lodge in Highmountain; he had traveled far to partake in the Kirin Tor’s famous New Year celebrations. Unfortunately, the mood of their conversation reflected that of the party: it was rather awkward and mundane. But once the Darnassian night elves arrived with their many barrels worth of smuggled arcwine, the festivities quickly took a different turn!

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Beach Booties ‘n Booze – Featuring Grok and Val!

The sun hung brightly over Stranglethorn Vale, baking down upon the three friends as they caroused about in the pleasant waters. The goblin brews had kicked in a good while back, so what was once mere splashing and innocent romping had now grown to involve a wide range of more lascivious behavior.

Grok, of course, was the center of attention. Both Felina and Val clung to his green body, gasping as his large hands found way down their bikini bottoms. The game was over, the girls had won, and the beach ball was already floating steadily back to shore.

“Sorry you two,” Grok said, “I don’t have any prize on me.”

“Oh,” Felina muttered dreamily, her slender fingers venturing down towards the orc’s groin. “I beg to differ…”

As if rehearsed, the two girls both pulled down the orc’s swim shorts, sending his manhood swinging before their desirous eyes. Felina bit the back of her finger as Val reached out for the massive cock, tugging ambitiously at it.

Grok laughed. “Perhaps we should take this back to the beach?”

“But we only brought one chair,” Felina moaned. “I just hate getting sand everywhere. Ugh, and I mean everywhere.”

“Tell you what,” Val grinned, “I think I know an exercise or two that’ll have that sand bounce right back off you.”

“And she means bounce,” Grok emphasized. He guided the two girls back to shore, one at each side, his hands giving their buttocks a playful squeeze as they rose out of the water.

“Ah-ah,” Val said, wagging a pink finger at Felina. “I’m the oldest, I go first.”

“But,” Felina said, perplexed, “you’re a night elf. How is that fair? How old are you even?”

“Older than you, and that’s all that matters.” She turned to face Grok. “I need to tame the beast. You know, so you don’t get hurt when it’s your turn.”

“Get hurt… Wha? Grok! Say something!”

Grok only shrugged, giving off a light chuckle. “I don’t know. Val does seem particularly determined to go first. I don’t think we should anger her.”

Felina tensed up in response, her irises flashing ominously with fel energy before forcing herself to relax. “Fine! Whatever. I have some reading to do anyway. Damn it, I really wish the Legion wasn’t invading right now…”

And thus Felina was forced to wait her turn as Val straddled the handsome orc and descended upon his throbbing cock. Not even the chaotic runes in the young warlock’s tome could retain her attention when Grok began to pound ferociously into the night elf.

Biting her lip, Felina grew increasingly restless and desperate as her friends’ moans filled the hot air. The tingly feelings of the saltwater drying on her skin were quickly outrivalled by those of emptiness in her nethers. All she cared about was when the time would come for that emptiness to be filled.

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Midsummer Special! Playing with Fire!

The warm months had finally made their return, and though the Midsummer festivities had died down for the night, a mischievous laughter still echoed faintly throughout the festival grounds. This caught the attention of a lone Stormwind guard, who became eager to locate the source of the mysterious voice.

Oddly enough, the merriment seemed to emanate from the dying embers of an otherwise empty brazier. Curious as to what the embers had to say, the guard blew gently at them. His breath aroused several great flames that sent sparks flying high into the night sky. The laughter grew in strength, and soon a fully fledged fire dancer took form, naked, above the brazier. Her gratitude was quickly apparent; she jumped down and twirled, winked and laughed as she danced her way towards him. The heat had him drenched in sweat by the time she reached out for his body. His plate armor offered protection from her smoldering touch, and molten prints were left wherever she caressed or kissed him. With his gloves, he could touch her in return – something she seemed to thoroughly enjoy, particularly when his fingers began to explore her nether regions. Surprisingly enough, she was not scaldingly hot on the inside, but pleasantly warm and silky like a benevolent flame.

The guard promptly pulled out his hardened cock. The fire dancer’s blazing eyes widened with glee when he entered her. Both of them knew that the brazier’s flames would soon die out once more, so they fucked passionately, determined to make the best of the time they had left.

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Fel Friday! Hoarding Crystals!

When Felina caught the blood elven woman sneaking around a local Alliance mine, her first reaction was perhaps more brutal than she would like to admit. Her anger, however, was swiftly quelled upon seeing exactly what sort of crystals the elf had been trying to steal. The sin’dorei was a deadly match, no doubt, but her arms were brimming with purple crystals of various sizes, and she could do nothing but stand helplessly before the infuriated human warlock.

But Felina smirked upon seeing the blood elf’s embarrassed face. “You poor thing, you’re blushing! What have you got there?” She leaned forward, eager to inspect the stolen crystals. The blood elf shrugged, looking down at her feet in shame.

“Oh, I’m sure you know, sweetie. And I think I know what you intend to do with them, too!” She winked flirtatiously, and the elf’s cheeks grew even redder, her freckles blazing with discomfort.

Felina moved closer, close enough for them to feel each others’ breath upon their skin. She stroked the red, elven hair, twirling it between her fingers and whispered: “Don’t be ashamed. I do it too.”

She was, of course, referring to the crystals in the young elf’s arms. Draenic crystals were famous for their variety of uses, but these in particular were mostly sought after for their vibrational properties.

Felina purred as her slender hand ventured underneath the blood elf’s plate armor. “How about,” she whispered, “I show you a trick or two back at my place. These babies do wonders when infused with fel.”

The sin’dorei nodded stiffly, and a shy smile soon followed on her once worried face.

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Fuck Friday! Stormshield Delight!

It was afternoon in Stormshield, and Lekira was admiring the view from the inn’s nearby gazebo. She stared longingly towards the horizon and sighed. Of all the places in Draenor, this gazebo was her favorite. At night, she would come here to gaze at the stars, wondering which of them could be Azeroth, and if, maybe, someone back home was missing her. By day, she would let the sun warm her deep-purple skin, let the ocean breeze blow upon her face and listen to the sounds of the sand scavengers scuttling about on the beach down below. And she would be alone. The wonders of nature were mostly druidic affairs – not something a brutish warrior or a devious rogue would be capable of appreciating.

But Lekira would turn out to be wrong. Since her arrival, she had sensed a presence, and she grew more sure of it as she stood there. A quick spell chanted under her breath revealed, of all things, a blood elven man.

Lekira raised an eyebrow. “So tell me, why do you hide in the shadows like that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he suavely retorted. “I am a rogue. It is what I do. That and I was afraid of how you would react to seeing a blood elf lurking around in your city.”

“Fair point,” Lekira sighed. “Most of my allies refuse to see past old grudges. It’d be wise to stay hidden. But then, no one ever comes here besides me, so there might not be much of a point.”

The blood elf looked at her in slight disbelief. “You wouldn’t call the guards?”

Lekira laughed. “Nah, I am not much for war of any kind, and this gazebo happens to be the point in Stormshield that’s furthest away from the bloodshed in Ashran.”

“I am glad you are not like them. I do not fit well with my allies either. They hold the same resentments as yours, and they do not tend to appreciate beauty the same way as you Alliance folk do.”

“Beauty?”

“Yes, of course!” He gestured around them – to the vines growing on the trellis, the clouds in the sky, the waves upon the sea. “This beauty. It takes me back to my home. To Quel’Thalas. You don’t see these things in Orgrimmar, or Tanaan for that matter.”

Lekira could feel her cheeks grow red. This was rather unexpected. A perceptive rogue, and a Horde, no less. A single ray of sunlight fell upon his face, and her heart began to beat faster. “Well,” she said, “I’d be happy if you kept me company for a while.”

The blood elf smiled. “As would I.”

As they stood there, side by side in the afternoon sun, they talked and laughed. Eventually, an unintentional touch of hands evolved into flirting, and flirting into… Well, you’re a grown-up, you can guess the rest.

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Zao’zao in Trouble – Dalehan Tribute!

Zao’zao the huntress had been stalking the satyr for several days before finally locating his camp. His cloven hoof prints and acrid smell did not make it a particularly challenging task. Maybe there was a reason to why he moved about Felwood so conspicuously, but then again, maybe there was not. Either way, the furbolgs of the Timbermaw tribe were desperate for answers – their own brethren, the Deadwood, had suddenly turned against them for inexplicable reasons. Zao’zao was the Timbermaw’s most honored and capable ally, and in many ways, their friendship ran deeper than even the forest’s own corruption.

There were rumors abound of the fel’s demonic influence, and following those, Zao’zao quickly stumbled upon the suspicious satyr at a nearby lake. He clearly had a purpose in mind as he swept the forest floor for strange herbs and wounded the trees for a sampling of their sap. For days on end he continued his pursuit like this, just as Zao’zao continued hers. But she was now hiding in a bush near his makeshift dwelling, prepared to witness the purpose of his expedition, or to strike, if necessary.

The satyr took a torch from the bearing of one of his crude tents and lit a brazier with blue flame. He then uttered spells in a demonic tongue as herbs were thrown into the fire, along with bones and a smidgen of a a thick liquid he had concocted on his trip. Soon the blue fire became a recognizable green, and its pungent smoke filled the air.

Poor Zao’zao could never have anticipated what would happen next. The satyr slowly removed his loincloth, revealing his enormous, dangling member. She instantly became lightheaded at the sight – it had been many months since she had last seen a dick, and furbolgs were not exactly known for their manly charm. Suddenly, Zao’zao lost her footing and broke a branch with a loud crack that echoed throughout the forest, but the satyr did not flinch. Something told her that he had known about her presence for a while now. She slowly got to her feet, and only then did he face her with a large, devious smile on his face. He raised one of his long, crooked fingers and motioned for her to come forward.

Deliriously, Zao’zao stepped out from behind the bushes. Her mind pleaded no, but her body screamed yes. Her emerald eyes were fixed upon the satyr’s swollen cock as she approached him. Soon she fell on her knees and had his muscular behemoth in her hands, caressing it, feeling it throb and harden. Next, she tasted it, running her tongue up and down along the length of his shaft. It was wet and slippery when she finally took it in her mouth. She closed her hand around its base and moved back and forth as she sucked. Her mouth was slowly filled with a thick, gooey secretion that at this point only served to fuel her lust further. The satyr groaned and took hold of her hair, pulling her head close to his groin and forcing his long cock down her throat. Her eyes watered as she gagged on it, and breathing through her nose, her mind went blank from the smells of sex, sweat and intoxicating smoke.

Zao’zao returned to her senses when the satyr pulled out from her mouth. His dick dangled before her, hard as ever, dripping with a mixture of saliva and green, glowing goo. He lifted her to her feet and turned her around, divesting her slender body of every last piece of armor. She was relieved to be rid of it – the sweat made it a sticky burden to her light blue skin. Now she was ready to give in to her lust, to unite with her primal instincts, just as her ancestors once had. She bit her lip as the satyr rubbed his rock-solid dick against her tight opening. He closed a single hand around her waist and pulled her closer, spreading her from within as he entered. His savage thrusts grew into a steady pace before her inner beast took over. She moved in unison with him, slapping her firm buttocks against his sturdy abdomen over and over as his veiny dick massaged her insides. The satyr’s grip around her waist began to tighten, and a few hard thrusts later, he snarled with ferocious delight. In this moment, Zao’zao was overwhelmed by the power of her own orgasm, letting out a scream of pleasure. Her eyes rolled back and her muscles contracted around the satyr’s pulsating cock as he pumped her full with stream after hot stream of glowing seed, until it spilled into her hand and further down upon the ground.

With her legs quivering, Zao’zao was held up by the satyr’s strong clutch alone. Panting, she decided she wanted more. Reclaiming her posture, she moved her hips back to accept his still hard cock, tongue lolling out of her mouth in pure ecstasy. They fucked for hours until the fire in the brazier finally died out and the air became clear once more. Only then did Zao’zao realize what she was doing. The smoke had poisoned her mind, and she had been betrayed by her own, repressed sexual desires. Without warning, she turned around and knocked the satyr out cold. Her face reddened with embarrassment as she stood over his unconscious body, fel cum oozing down her legs. Her eyes darted back and forth among the trees and bushes to see if they were alone. She spat at the beast, picked up her things and swiftly headed off. There were definitely demons out there, corrupting the furbolgs and their home, but this satyr was not one of them. No, this was just a horny goat who had seen his chance to lure a young, unsuspecting troll into his trap.

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