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You will be the legendary cock shaman. You may be charged with the trying task of satisfying our mother earth's whims, calming her rages, and taming her excesses. You've been training for a long time and after this could be the day you wade in to the wilds surrounding the outermost village of your peoples' tiny corner of the world.

"i would like provisions," you say. The shopkeep is a titan of a man, easily a foot taller than both you and as broad across as any two other individuals. On a raised dais behind him, his wife sits at a desk, moving tiny baubles, gold coins, and little slips of paper with one hand as she writes in a tirelessly rebound ledger because of the other.

"We got provisions here," the shopkeep says, politely enough, "you got coin you can leave which includes."

"I'm going to be heading out to the wilds. I will set up a base-camp and fend for myself, but Iwill need about 30 days's worth of dry goods, some rope, and whatever dry wood it is possible to spare. A yard of canvas would not be bad either."

"Five gold pieces will make a package there," he tells you, "but a guy heading out into the wilds needs significantly more than provisions, he needs defenses."

"We have certain skills, master shopkeeper, but I'll need to get back into you on those five gold pieces." Five gold pieces! Which is ridiculous. Just because he is the last outpost in a day's ride, he thinks he can gouge you on basic shit? The sages for the cock arts would let you know that listed here is for which you dim the bedroom, shout out loud, and thunderously roar the importance of your mission, calling it an honor to serve one such while you. The mistresses of one's ward-house, however, would quietly intone "Flies prefer honey."

"you really must be knowledgeable about the wilds around here. How did you fair on your last ranging?" you may well ask.

"shop http://imlive.com/live-sex-chats/cam-girls/ around you, adventurer. I brought home most of the pelts you saw tanning outside. Those bone daggers came from a razorback so large that some other man would require a hunt-master and dogs to create him down."

"And you took him yourself?"

"Yar, just me and my spear. I could place it anywhere I desire. Forcefully and effectively."

From the dais, his wife scoffs. Crossing her legs, she rubs her leather-covered thighs together. The bindings holding her breaches together creak as they strain to carry her supple leg flesh set up. Her breathing deepens and you end up watching the swell of her breasts plus the light travel top to bottom along side wisps of black hair that is pooled into her cleavage.

"Like what you see, adventurer?" you are pulled from your appraisal of the shopkeeper's finest prize, "She's a harpy, make no mistake."

The shopkeep appears to think for a time. Then a wicked grin appears on his face. He steps close enough to you that you can smell his breath. Turning to his wife he asks you what your favorite feature of hers is.

"She has broad hips, master shopkeeper. A woman with hips like hers must certanly be in a position to give you a legion of tiny shopkeepers. I'm sure in a few years both you and her will enjoy a life of leisure."

"Fine hips," according to him, "the most effective fuck-grips in the village, make no mistake. What else about her has your cock hardening?"

"Uh, her breasts. They are supple. They look like she's going to be able to feed triplets, not to mention son after son. Master shopkeeper, surely this might be a distraction. Any time you and I can't bargain some from the price of your provisions, grant me your leave and I may find a way to meet up your price."

"Hmm, I do need to have the money. I'm afraid five gold is the best i will do. That insatiable whore We have counting my coins will probably drive me into bankruptcy."

"It isn't really my fault you cannot get your 'spear' hard without a trip to the apothecary!" The wife/accountant has finally found her voice, along with her feet. Along with her on the job the table and her head sunk despite having her shoulders, she looks like she could vaporize her husband, if perhaps she could chant the right spell.

"there is my bride! Adventurer! I'll make you a great deal. Once I go to the apothecary," he unfastened his belt, extracting a foot of mottled horsecock from his breeches, "this cannon is brought fully through its porthole and Miss Queen of this Castle over there can't sit right for days. But it's not really per night and per day before I'm hearing regarding how we probably have enough for the next day at that wretched thief. If you are man adequate to earn me a week's respite I'll cut the cost of your supplies in half."

His challenge is music to your ears. A cock shaman is charged with taming the beasts for the wild, nevertheless the long, voluminous, intertwined lineage of all the masters for the cock arts is due to the shaman's ability to tame the appetites of two-legged beasts at the same time.

"by the leave then, master shopkeeper?" He grunts. You stand at the dias, loosening the buckles holding your turtle shell cuirass in position while maintaining visual communication with the accountant. "What is your name, dear woman."

"I Am Havera. Everyone calls me Havie though," she says. You command her to brush her hair aside. Already, this woman is starting to flush. When you set your cuirass aside, her breathing quickens.

"I view you like what I've taken to your table. Show me the things I'm getting in return," you say while she gawks at you, "Undress." She brings a hand to her shirt and begins untying its laces.

"Eyes on me, Havera."

She looks into the eyes as she continues to remove her shirt. Your personal eyes begin to take within her body as she loosens her shirt, pulling one breast right after which one other using their confines. Into the heated air associated with the shop, you will see that your particular appraisal was right. Her tits are bigger than your two fists pressed together, but pert, teardrop-shaped, without a touch of sag. Each breast is topped with a gently sloping cone of a nipple. There is not a hint of strain on any element of her beautiful mammaries. Despite being deep within their third decade, this young couple has clearly not produced any offspring.

You adopt your eyes from her breasts for a lengthy period to observe that her eyes have started to take in your system as well. You center yourself, measure your breathing, and begin to channel your lust to your cock. You watch her eyes widen as soon as your cock begins to jump within its reinforced leather sheathing.

"Your pants, Havera."

"Yes, sir."

"Master," you correct, "you may possibly make reference to me as 'master shaman."

Her breath quickens at the words. The trustworthiness of your order frequently precedes you, but a whole lot is left to rumor and innuendo that lots of have no idea things to spot or what to anticipate. The bindings in your wrists must be a clear enough signal, but this far from the temple it isn't really unusual for shaman to blend to the population as easily while they blend to the wilderness. By the time her pants are right down to her knees, she's is able to see another mark of your own profession. Her breeder's hips have tightened your pants so thoroughly that your particular shaman's rings are straining the leather in your crotch. Her quim is lustrous with arousal. Her lips swollen. You step onto the dais and motion for her in the future nearer to you. You pull her eyes to your swollen bulge. Her hands shake as she fumbles with all the meteorite metal belt mechanism. It generates a light ring because it comes undone. It's not necessary to tell her what direction to go next.

She fishes a hand into the pants and rubs your root until she extends to your shaman's rings. She raises an eyebrow.

"the only closest in my opinion marks the deepest depths my cock has plumbed. The main one closest to you binds the fertility of the land as well as the fertility for the supplicant together for his or her lifetime. Understand, you may result from this coupling changed."

"How?"

"Even i really do not know."

She rolls your pants down your hips. Her other side cups and weighs your balls.

"they truly are so warm."

"they've been a source of power during my order. Energy flows through them and resides in them."

"Will I get pregnant?"

"One never knows. Sometimes the heat is too much for any more mundane aspects of the shaman to exist. You'll find shamans which have had their testicles or ovaries become composed entirely of roiling, luminous power. The most adept in my own order are hardly a lot more than a pair of lights bound together by distorted genitals. Others have bastards throughout our lands along with the lands and kingdoms of perhaps the most distant nations," you settle into the spiel you share with all of of your own lay-partners.

She nibbles on the ear. "I want to," she whispers.

In the temple it absolutely was simpler, and yet more difficult. Couplings were frequent but rarely without consequence. It went without saying that you and your fellow aspirants always kept score, nevertheless the masters for the temple found a method to keep a tally too. Who came first, who came most frequently, who lasted longest, who was simply lost within their lusts, who was overly attached to whom; all of these subjects were up for review, privately or publicly one of the trainees and their instructors. When Zayaira and you also had fucked five times each day for 5 days, both of you were the very last to get informed that the couplings would only continue in accordance areas, though that the professors would be participating as well came as a surprise to not one person. When Zayaira was sent away, both of you had become so detached that the thoughts weren't of her gravid belly or perhaps the tricks you'd taught each-other, but of her soft mahogany cheeks along with her seemingly bottomless asshole.

"Turn around then," you growl, "I'll breed you right here in the front of your husband."

She faces the desk and spreads her legs. Your cock easily fits in to the space beneath her cunt. You pull her near to you, her butt cheeks brushing your rings. One of your hands cups her breast, taking her nipple gently between your thumb and forefinger. Your cock swells plus the wide root starts to part the lips into her moist core. Long ago, you might have begun to unconsciously hunch in to the warm trap of her plush thighs and warm cunny, you training has taught you a slow back and forth pacing that pops each ring passed her center before slowly rebuilding the pressure and thrusting back through her legs. Her arms flail about as she lubricates your shaft with her juices. She tries to finger herself but finds she are unable to get past your other hand. In a fit of frustration, she wraps each of her hands around your shaft, jerking the section of your cock that she will reach while she rides its base to a shrieking orgasm.

Her legs clamp down on the shaft and, with her ass-cheeks pressed into the pelvic bone, you offer her a minute's rest will your cock gently flexes beneath her. Her hands desperately race up and down your length, her nimble fingers extracting dollops of precum through the tip. The urgent motions cover the head, her thighs, the ledger, plus the desk before you in a thin skin of lubrication.

"Please. Please. I would like more."

You're pleased to oblige her, you could have never her running hot enough. You are looking at a lengthy sojourn to the wilds and also this could be the last chance to fill your reserves. You pull your fat cockhead back to her labia. Her arousal is warm in your tip and already it is possible to feel her lips opening for your requirements. You breach slowly at first, just thrusting your glans in and out, filling the store with squelching sounds. She rests her hips and hands on the desk once you shove the initial few inches of the shaft in, along with her pussy violently spasms on your own head as soon as your piss hole grinds along the patch of rough cuntflesh hiding inside. You are aware you've penetrated her fully once you feel your cock slide past her cervix and into her fornix and you know your power will likely be at its height when Havie screams in pleasure as the first ring forces its way past her lips,stretching them around it with each thrust.

"is it possible to feel me throbbing inside you?" you ask, "that is the sense of your lust flowing into my cock."

Havera screams her confirmation whilst you plunge into her. When she are unable to stand any more, you grab her because of the thighs and lay her across the desk, railing into her all the while. You really feel your balls start to churn beneath you, readying a salvo of cum. A silently cast absorption spell turns her cervix into an aggressively sucking sphincter that shlurps torrent after torrent of ball batter out of your cockhead just like you thrust deep to the accountant. Havera whips her head around, shooting you a side-eyed "What is happening inside me?" glare. You climb on the desk and put your lips to hers in a deep, tongue-filled kiss, burying just as much of the cock into her as her new depths will accept.

"So full. So full. So full," she repeats as your second ring strives to achieve use of her vagina. Prone up for grabs, it brushes down and up the lengths of her thighs, just inches in front of your raging testicles. She shrieks incoherently while you reach her innermost depths. Her legs seize up behind you, futilely flailing against your ass cheeks. You cup her breast from behind and settle into a fast hunch, nibbling on her behalf neck as she writhes beneath you.

Your balls leap on the table because they continuously dump plenty of goopy sperm inside her. Your latest eruptions cause her calves to clamp onto your thighs, forcing you in as deep just like you'll go. She thrusts her ass back at you but she only succeeds in swirling her labia on your own shaft. You desperately wish you could fill the shop with all the sound of your own balls slapping off of her supple asscheeks. Instead you set your sights regarding the "fuckgrips" the shopkeep spoke of, pulling her onto her knees before extracting your cock from her womb-mouth and taking aim at her untouched butthole.

Together with your cock head up against her sphincter, it is possible to grab onto her hips and apply the slightest bit of pressure, widening her anus and lubricating her chute together with your spasming cumslit. You slowly pull her towards you. Your cockhead disappears into her asshole up to the crown begins to breach the constricting ring of muscle. Havera spasms beneath you, but the hipbones the shopkeep recommended for you are really handy. When she leaves her knees you can hold her suspended on her hands as the head of your cock finally breaches fully into her colon. Gyrating your hips in tiny circles, you really feel her asshole adapt to your spasming invader.

"No one's ever fucked my ass before."

"i will tell."

You penetrate deeper into her asshole, her belly bulging lewdly under the deluge of cum you deposited inside her. When you have finally shoved your first ring inside, you cast a virility spell and beckon the shopkeep towards the dais.

"I'm going to shove my cock back to your wife's cunt now. I want you for eating my sperm from her asshole whenever I do this," look for the rage on his face, "Doing so will solve your potency problem, master shopkeeper. You should have a hardon before I leave."

You stand on the desk and seize your ex legs in your arms. Her labia has blossomed fully beneath both you and you eagerly spread her petals with your cockhead. You stop when you've slid in deep enough to feel her cervix still desperately slurping, kissing the end with each eager motion. Behind you, her husband has slid what feels like a disproportionately thick tongue into her butthole. Despite your recent invasion, her ass still forms around his tongue like a greasy glove also it holds about it until finally releasing with a wet smack. When you start to plumb the depths past her cervix, you're feeling you balls started to rest on his forehead. You get ready for him to freak out, but they are so engrossed in your potency, his wife's asshole, and furiously stroking their own cock which he does not seem to notice. You begin to piston top to bottom on top of her. Your outer ring bounces up and down on the clitoris as she moans beneath you. You lean forward until the face is simply inches from hers. You are not close sufficient to kiss her you watch her oscillate between focusing on you and focusing on some invisible rapture behind her. Your balls commence to spasm when you unleash a new load inside her.

Consumed by your orgasm, you lurch forward, lifting the accountant into the air. Bouncing her on your cock while using the fury of a hurricane, you're free live cam feeling the shopkeep dive across the desk, desperate to carry on lapping at her asshole. The accountant's screams are muffled as her teeth latch on to your shoulder, caught somewhere between writhing in pain and wallowing in rapture. Your deep thrusts allow it to be burdensome for her husband to help keep pace, but he appears to be making a remarkable effort. The mass of his tongue flits along side underside of your shaft as you barrel into her overstuffed pelvis.

By the time your orgasm subsides, the accountant has drifted away into incoherent, babbling bliss. You pull your cock from her behind a deluge of your intermingled fluids and lay her across the desk. Across away from you, the thing is that that the shopkeep has had his own considerable member to erection. You encourage him to fuck his wife and complete the ritual before his arousal fades, that he does with haste. With nothing left to complete, you languidly walk to the other side of the desk, where the accountant quietly mutters her delight.

When offered, the shopkeeper's wife happily puts your cockhead to her lips. Her tongue swirls around your slit as she lubes you up. In a language of her own device, she begs one to fuck her throat. You ease yourself deeper and deeper into her mouth immediately after which her throat while she shapes the passage around your throbbing staff. Pulling you into her, she caresses your testicles together with her hands. Not able to restrain yourself any longer, you take a fistful of onyx hair into each hand and begin to fuck her throat in earnest. Stopping short of her teeth, your rings sing through the atmosphere just like you work your magic. The shopkeep ruts into her like a bull in heat. The accountant writhes between you, struggling to help keep her hands on your balls, on the heaving breasts, and on her clitoris which has engorged passed the size of a little fish.

Once you feel you latest orgasm grip you, you extract your cock from her throat, opting instead to fill a nearby wastebasket with your ejaculate. The shopkeep continues to ram into the accountant, who in turn barely spends a minute glancing about in confusion as to where in fact the cock that has been within her mouth has gone. When you fill the bucket, you watch her giant breasts flop to and fro across her chest. With regards to will hold no more, you cast the past ropes of jism across her torso, covering her tits and tummy in opalescent strands of potent seed.

The shopkeeper roars his orgasm and buries himself balls deep into his wife. Whenever you finish ringing the very last droplets of sperm from the dip of your dick onto the rising and falling breasts of this accountant, you make sure he understands to skim the movie through the top of the waste basket each and every day.

"Eating the dried portions from the top with this bucket daily should cure your ailment permanently. I'll leave two gold pieces in the counter, I trust that'll be enough," you say. The shopkeep grunts his consent.

"i'm going to be back tomorrow to pick it up. Thanks again to be so flexible!"

WillieBetter