Nyra moaned as she crawled onto the council table, her ass high, back arched, the two orange carrots still sticking proudly from her twitching, overstuffed hole.
Allen followed, eyes glowing with savage lust, his cock gleaming with a cocktail of Rhelgar's juices and his own thick cum.
"Face down," he growled. "Mouth on her hole. Clean every drop."
Nyra obeyed instantly—desperate to please.
She lowered her face to Lady Rhelgar's twitching, dripping pussy, still gaping slightly from Allen's brutal load. The scent of sex was dizzying—coppery, salty, divine. And Nyra?
She licked.
Like it was nectar of the gods.
Long, slow swipes of her tongue across the ruined folds, scooping up thick globs of leftover cum like she was slurping melted cream off a feast platter. She moaned with every taste, eyes fluttering, her body quivering with arousal.
Allen mounted her from behind.
