The Inn Ch. 13

Behind her, Mordwith scratched his head near one horn. "Is that agreement or just enthusiasm?"

"Uhhh," Yndicir moaned, leaning back with her fingers locked together behind my neck. The swirl of her hips planted me as deep as I could go inside her and lavished fragrant slickness onto me. "Milk a bit of syrup from my breasts, Mordwith, to ease the – ah! – the plunge of your man-bone ... up my hind-hole."

"Much better," he said happily. His hands came up and around her rib-cage from either side as he hooked his chin over her right shoulder. Even before he pinched her nipples with a thumb and forefinger each, I saw milky-pale fluid beading and leaking from the violet peaks. At the pressure from his fingers, the leaking became a rich drool, thick and sap-like, running over his nails and digits and rolling slowly down the lilac flesh of her areolas.

Yndicir kept grinding her lovely flower against my root as the satyr milked her. Every few squeezes, he gathered up the flow on his fingertips and took it around behind her out of my sight, one hand obviously lubing up his cock while the other applied the dryad's fluid to whatever a plant-woman uses for an asshole.

"Drog ... and Leyna ..." purred Yndicir, springing lightly up and down my shaft. "Come over beside us – Leyna, if you please, on your back."

Leyna sucked her lower lip between her teeth and walked over, flicking me a half smile but mostly staring at the gargantuan erection pointing her way and closing in with each step of Drog's approach. As she knelt and then sat, the bullfinch stood over her, the long spar of his manhood tick-tocking up and down with each beat of his heart. The size of it – both girth and extent – alarmed me. It couldn't possibly slide all the way into the wonderful body I so treasured, and surely the bull-man wouldn't try to make it fit to the hilt. But even taking the front end of it would be a stretch, from what I saw.

Leyna, though, had a fire in her blue eyes along with the hint of nerves there, and I had to trust her if she thought she could handle it.

"Now then," Yndicir directed, "down to the ground, and lift your legs high and wide."

"Yes, ma'am," she said with a nod. And then she reclined into the grass, got a hand behind each knee, and drew up her legs.

Watching her instead of what he was doing, Mordwith squeezed a nipple too hard and spurted dryad milk onto my chest.

"Position yourself, Drog. But hold back from entry until Mordwith is at my rear gate. You'll both push in on my count."

"Aye," said the winged minotaur. He dropped to one knee, then both, then settled ass to ankles with his hooves sticking out behind him, bottoms up. Despite plenty of open ground between him and Leyna, the swollen tip of his pizzle reached all the way across the gap, hovering at her mound and looking several sizes too large for its target. My heart pounded, and not just from the effort of holding up Yndicir or the mind-blowing pleasure of being fucked by her.

"Believe I'm buttered-up enough," said Mordwith. "Are you ready, Arbiter?"

"More than," breathed the dryad. "On three, then. One. Two ..."

I could see Drog's ass-muscles clench in preparation. I could feel Yndicir letting herself go as slack as she could while still holding onto me. I could hear the quick, high breathing of the woman my heart had given itself over to, and the slower, bestial respiration of the creature about to penetrate her.

"Three."

Within Yndicir's succulent vagina, the underside of my cock felt a pressure and glide as Mordwith popped into the hole next door and stroked upward. In the same instant, the dryad's throat released a very unflowerly grunt, and Leyna cried out.

"GLOR!"

Dorg did not go in as fast or as deep as Mordwith. But the probing fat prow of his dick moved forward insistently, forcing Leyna's pink cunt-lips apart, stretching them wide, straining its veiny way inward through an opening just barely able to admit such breadth.

"UH –" she groaned, teeth clenched and face contorted as she took the head and then an inch behind it and then another. Her jaw dropped open in a gasp. "Mighty gods of slut stobbing!"

Yndicir trembled in my arms as the satyr behind her plunged rhythmically up her chute, every thrust rubbing the slick, wet flesh of her pussy against my hard-on's belly.

"Are you ... all right?" I asked Leyna, gulping air at the demands of my lungs.

"Gods," she panted with her eyes rolled skyward. "It's a steeple. Uhhnng ..."

Some tenor in her voice told me she considered that a good thing, and the expression on her face took on a look of hard-driven pleasure where I'd been worried it might be pain.

Still far enough back that only his impaling cock even touched her, Drog huffled and said, "Bearable? Ready for it to go in further?"

"Much better than bearable," she panted. "Simon, are you watching this? Uhh, Glor, fill me deeper ..."

"Um, yeah, I'm watching ..."

The dark-skinned bull-man leaned forward, putting a massive hand down to either side of her shoulders. I noticed Yndicir and Morwith slow their movements. A quick glance showed them both staring downward at the action beside us.

"This," said Drog as a push of his hips brought another grunt from Leyna, "is the least I need for the coupling to bring a spew out of me."

"Well ... I can handle that much, I think ..."

"This –" His hips dropped again, and Leyna gave another gasping cry. "– is Yndicir's limit."

"Ohhhhh ..."

He had six or seven inches in her by this point, leaving more shaft outside her than any ordinary two guys possessed. She writhed and gave a couple of little kicks with her upraised legs. Even as far in as he was, the bullfinch's body remained high enough above her that nothing obstructed our view of her cock-distended opening.

"Haven't yet felt your womb's gate. Should I test your depths, or ..."

Her legs couldn't reach all the way around him, but she set the arch of each foot against his waist, let go with her hands, and grabbed him by the horns.

"In! In, until I say stop!"

Mordwith let out a groan of raw lust and returned to humping up Yndicir's ass, making the breath huff out of her like a squeezed turkey baster. I felt the clench and tremor of her cunt around me and smelled a flowery ripeness surge from her roses. Down and down the bull-man's pelvis sank. His tail went from casually flicking to stiff and upright, and the folded wings on his back shivered.

"There!"

Drog froze, nostrils flaring and a sound in his breath like a rodeo bull chafing at the gate. Leyna, too, lay rigid and unmoving.

"Sooo ... huge ..."

Between throaty, puffing breaths, the dark creature atop her said, "Uhh ... you have ... Ofara's own ... garden furrow, lass ..."

Burning coals of pure arousal hung in my scrotum, stoked red hot by Drog screwing my woman, then sprayed with gas by the rigorous drubbing Mordwith's cock gave me through our dryad's silky internal wall.

From the grass nearby, Loonce spoke up. "Hey, Madam Arbiter! There's still an unengaged member here!"

"Ah ... ahh ... sorry, dear Loonce ... If she has the breath for it ... let our guest ... put her mouth ... to use ... Oooenghh!"

From under the bullfinch's still-motionless form, Leyna said, "I can't promise to have much breath once this gets going inside me ... but let's try it to start ..."

The sprite scampered into place faster than a jackrabbit, straddling Leyna's head and leaning over to duck beneath Drog's chin.

"This is going to be worth the wait, I can tell," he said, bracing his hands on her collarbones. For someone that small, the fey man was incredibly hung – his engorged length had to be the size of my pinky, even though head-to-toe he didn't look any taller than Drog's prong. As he got into place, his stiff little dong dripped a strand of precum down, thread-thin, to drizzle Leyna's lips before she swiped them with her tongue and pursed them like you would to sip from a straw. Without hesitation, Loonce inserted himself to the root and started mouth-fucking her, his eyes closing and lips spreading into a grin of glee. "Yes!"

Mordwith bleated again and bucked into Yndicir's tush spasmodically. "Too much! Guh – Yndi, the ass on you! Here it –"

If he'd blown his load then, inside her with his cock a full-length bulge in the cunt-wall beneath mine, I would have followed in an instant. But Yilma sped over on quick, percussive hooves and went to her deer-belly next to us, on the side opposite Leyna, Loonce and Drog.

"On me," she reminded him, angling her human half back to give the goat-man a long shelf of skin to aim for. Just to make sure, I clutched the dryad to me and took a step back, unsheathing him. Yndicir groaned as his prick popped free. I felt flower-milk running from her nipples down my front.

Whether Mordwith looked stunned at the sudden baring of his prong, or at the intensity of the orgasm that barreled through it, I couldn't say. But he managed to twist toward Yilma in time to douse her in great, cloying dollops of goat spew.

Unplugged from the satyr, Yndicir wrapped her entire form around me and kissed me with honey-sweet lips as she bounced along my rod in a fever.

"Great gods of wood –" Loonce squealed from astride Leyna's mouth, "– this girl can roll her tongue right!"

As the little man stroked in and out of her encircling lips, Leyna's hands released their grip on Drog's wide-curved horns to trail gently down his forehead and then seize his bull snout. Moaning in her throat so that her busy mouth didn't have to stop, she tugged the bullfinch into motion. Like a steam engine chuffing slowly from the train-yard, he drew back his tail end, withdrawing more cock from her vagina than I'd ever owned, yet still leaving the head embedded beyond her labia. The slick glitter of her wetness coated his mighty shaft to its midpoint, giving the pulsing veins there a sheen. As each centimeter left her, Leyna's breath made a whimper, and her raised knees trembled in the air.

And then he pushed back in.

"Mlluhh!" The force of her gasp expelled Loonce from her mouth, but her lips quested hungrily and found and sucked him back in before he could complain. Around his finger-sized schlong, she panted and moaned, while Drog at last began to hump her. The vast bull-cock went slow at first but with an inexorable drive like the turning of the world on its axis. Even with Yndicir's mouth on mine and her body pressed against me, milking me fiercely, I couldn't keep from staring. The sound of my dear small-town courtesan in bliss pushed me closer and closer to explosion. "Mmh–" she went, "mmm-mmnhf–hhmmmmmmm –"

"Glauhhff," bellowed Drog, lunging with speed now, loading and unloading her pussy with the swollen wet baton of his manhood. "Unbelievable!"

"Sshheeeeee –" whined Loonce, giving Leyna's mouth two more whip-quick thrusts before pulling back out. His wings went to a blur and vaulted him up and over my head to do a strafing run along Yilma's upturned belly. I didn't actually see it, but the rush of air from his wings told me where he was, and from a stretch of grass nearby, Mordwith gave him encouragement.

"Nice shot!"

Yndicir must have sensed me fixated on the spectacle of sex to our other side, because she released her kiss and licked along my jaw to my ear, where she slathered and nipped at my earlobe gaspingly as she worked to bring me off through several shivering orgasms of her own.

Beneath Drog's pounding bulk, Leyna groaned at full volume, her hips in a frenzy and her back arched as she played with his muzzle and bull's lips. A great, greyish tongue slopped out of his mouth to lash her hands and lace through the fingers. For no reason I could have told you, the sight of bovine saliva running down her arms was more than I could take.

"I'm there – I'm there –"

With the grace of a flower in the wind, Yndicir released her hands from behind me, curled backwards, and basically back-somersaulted her way off of me. This time, I had a little more of a chance to position myself, and stepped right up in front of the greenwarden before my nuts could let go and spray cum in all the wrong places. What I didn't expect or ask for, though, was Yilma levering her human half up so that my dick landed flat against her sternum. As the first gush left me, she got her hands on her tits and pressed them together to embrace my shaft. My jism splattered up against her throat as she boob-fucked me, the valley between her soft, modest breasts made gooishly slick by all the ejaculate we'd been covering her with. I groaned and thrust and fountained even more across her upper chest and into the hollow between her clavicles.

Breathing in gasps, I finished my orgasm and looked over to Leyna and Drog. She had her teeth clenched and her nails clawed into the thick buffalo hair on his pecs, working and rocking her entire body in time to his mammoth, ram-rodding lunges. A crooning roar started deep in his chest and threw his head back on the straining tree-trunk of his neck. I wouldn't have been surprised to see steam burst from his nostrils like a mad cartoon bull.

"HHRROOOOAAAAHHHH!"

I could feel the bellow right in the pit of my stomach. Leyna cried out too, and then Drog was leaping up from between her legs, twisting toward me and Yilma, and spouting white spooge like a firehose. I jerked back reflexively but still got a great, sticky splash across my hip and lower belly. The hindaur's subtle breasts and lithe stomach all but disappeared under a thick, pearly frosting of bull-semen. With his prong held two-handed and his neck muscles still standing out like elevator cable, Drog loomed forward to close the gap between him and his target. Even after two or three bursts, his throbbing equipment put such force into each spurt that the backsplash off Yilma rained on his hands.

Then his great wings flashed out and flapped him upward, above her, suspended in mid-air where his slowing flood could fall and then drizzle and then drip right onto her upturned chest and abdomen. By the time he finished, white spew concealed virtually every inch of Yilma's bare skin.

Staring and with my mouth probably hanging open, I moved over to Leyna as the greenwarden smeared and spread her gloss of man-seed over the few spots it hadn't already reached.

"Mmm, Simon," cooed Leyna, reaching weakly for me as I arrived at her side and knelt. "I'm all done-in. What a reaming!"

I looked her up and down, saw sweat and bullfinch drool glistening across her shoulders and chest, while sticky clear leakage drained out of her swollen, rosy mound. Shit, is that all precum? I shook my head in disbelief, but it couldn't be anything else. He'd dribbled more fluid into her while they fucked than I'd released in my whole orgasm onto Yilma's body.

"Are you all right?" I asked her. She nodded and smiled at me with tired, slitted eyes. Then she lifted just enough to get one hand behind my neck and pull me down for a long, languid kiss. I closed my eyes and relaxed into it, slipping my tongue between her lips and dancing my mouth against hers until the world seemed to turn into a steamy fog.

Then Fwill the Tricorn said, "Aha!" and I opened my eyes and found that the fog wasn't just in my head.

Leyna and I lay in a bed of rising mist that caressed and beaded on our skin. Looking around, I found the whole clearing full of it, thickening and rising.

And then I saw the rest of our orgiastic companions looking at something behind me, and I turned to see what had them so fixated – although a part of me already knew.

Floating there at the edge of the clearing, she coalesced out of the fog itself.

The Mistress of the Bog.