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ChaosBeetle

The Third Horn

Dec 6th, 2014
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  1. The Third Horn v1.00
  2. tags: Littlest Nymph, Fernwehxminotaurxfaun, somnophilia, threesome, large insertions
  3. Picture: http://imgur.com/6T8nkLo
  4.  
  5. The beautiful red-headed nymph calmly strolled through the lonely autumn woods, watching the falling leaves swept up in the wind as they blew between the trees. The scent of Fall blanketed the region, calming and soothing. The wildlife was beginning to prepare for the winter, no longer free to simply live from day to day as during the blissful spring or the placid summer.
  6.  
  7. She had a bountiful bosom like a fine crop, curvy, swaying hips that bragged of her fertility, flawless pale flesh that seemed to shine in the dim sunlight, a round and soft rump that bounced ever-so-slightly with each step she took, and the only clothes on her body were the matching ivy brassiere and leaf skirt maintained by her magic. Anyone who looked at her was given a near-perfect view of her beautiful form, making most question her reasoning for bothering with the odd attire.
  8.  
  9. For her part, Fernweh had lost the youthful exuberance she normally exhibited in the prior two seasons. She had her own material concerns at the forefront of her mind – not storing food or finding adequately warm shelter, but rather, gathering and carefully managing magic energy, the essence of her existence, such that she would be able to endure the freezing winds and icy rains of the incoming season without having to rely on such mundane things as blankets, houses, and the kindness of strangers to get by. Something about having to live as a human would bother her deeply. It was just not right.
  10.  
  11. And as nature itself hunkered down for the coming winter, no longer engaging in the frantic prosperity of life itself, the constant trickle of energy she was given through proximity was waning. The only way to acquire more power than she was currently receiving was to create brief pockets of prosperity through sex, and personally participating in such things gave a much larger, more direct burst of energy than simply being nearby to such things.
  12.  
  13. She had intended to get into a big wild orgy with the local magical creatures before the season changed, but she had lost track of time and before she knew it, it was too late to find the satyrs and fairies and dryads and all sorts of other mystical creatures that inhabited the woods during the good times. They had withdrawn into their hidden homes that no creature, not even a wandering fey, would be able to find, not without the local fey showing them the way.
  14.  
  15. Resorting to bestiality was one option she had considered, but she generally preferred sapient creatures for obvious reasons, even if it was rutting season for the deer. So here she was, already on her way out of the forest to the nearest human or elf or orc settlement that she could find, intending to instead ‘subject’ herself to mating with as many of those as possible, which she was sure would be a very large number. Perhaps it was merely the season, but for some reason she always found it harder to justify her rampant sexual acts to herself during autumn and winter.
  16.  
  17. That being said, due to the chronic need for more energy, she found herself having sex about as often during fall and winter as during the spring and summer, if not more. She knew deep down that she still enjoyed her escapades as much as ever. It was merely a difference in attitude.
  18.  
  19. Her deep ponderings were interrupted when she heard a loud, deep snoring coming from nearby. She glanced around, brushing the short scarlet bangs out of her eyes and tucking them behind her ears. She followed the sound to its source, and to her surprise, found a bulky man with the head of a bull laying against a tall oak. Beneath his oily olive skin was rippling muscle. His eyes were firmly shut, his bovine mouth hanging open with a bit of saliva dribbling down his chin onto his washboard abs. In his hand was a jug from which wine was dripping, mixing into the dirt below it.
  20.  
  21. “Um, hello?” Fernweh said, trying to wake the massive mammoth of a man up gently. He did not stir, and she reached down to poke him in the shoulder. Yet again, he made no signs of rousing. She frowned, looking around and finding that they were entirely alone in that part of the forest. Her eyes naturally drifted further down to his waist, examining the tattered loincloth that utterly failed to hide the massive bulge of the hulking man’s package.
  22.  
  23. Despite knowing better, she bent down and lifted the loincloth out of pure curiosity, finding that the overgrown man had an overgrown member and it was not even erect. Her sight lingered on the massive ballsack below it, already imagining the kind of thick, creamy load it was packing. She caught herself and shook her head, trying to dispel the dirty thoughts. It would be wrong to take advantage of the sleeping minotaur, she felt, even if she doubted that he would mind and she could use the magic.
  24.  
  25. Ten seconds later, her fingers were wrapped around the soft shaft, stroking it gently and with the expert motions of someone who had done this perhaps far too many times before. Within moments it was already thickening and hardening in her grasp, to her delight. It twitched against her soft hands, warm and veiny and healthy. The minotaur snorted in his sleep, and the nymph glanced up at his face. He was completely out of it, not even awakening when he was getting handled so well.
  26.  
  27. She scoffed and wrapped one of her hands around his growing girth and slid her fingers down it, a small smile crossing her lips when it jolted up hard. She pushed it all the way to the hilt, watching the flesh burgeon around her fingers lustily. Soon, it throbbed but did not grow any further, and she knew it was fully engorged. And what a sight it was! Larger than even she had predicted, and she was quite the master at predicting dick sizes based on their flaccid size.
  28.  
  29. Fernweh’s own loins were already reacting to what she was seeing and doing by pure reflex. Underneath her leafy skirt, her mound blushed deeply as blood rushed to it, her slit spreading ever-so-slightly, allowing the earth to see just a hint of her deep pink inner folds. The fey creature gave the mountain of a man a few more heavy and tight pumps with both hands, then licked her lips at the purple-headed monstrosity before her. She told herself that she was just doing this for the magic, and felt her body disagree vehemently as tingles ran up her spine and through her labia in anticipation of what she was about to do.
  30.  
  31. She leaned over, her tongue slipping out from behind her vivid lips to run up the manhood from its base to its tip. At its crest, she retracted it and backed away with a sour face, smacking her lips with one eye shut. “Ewwww! Gross!” she said, deeply unsatisfied at the burning, savage flavor she got from such a spectacular member. She was quite acquainted with bad-tasting willies, and was more than capable of ignoring such things, but this was in a category all its own. The nymph briefly wondered where the mutant man had last put the damn thing, and realized she really did not want to know.
  32.  
  33. The fey traveler gave the thing another once over, determining that it was, in fact, quite clean to her eyes. Her eyes drifted down to the jug in the man’s hand, and she swiped up a drop of the fluid with a finger, tasting it. It was probably the worst wine she had ever had the displeasure to sample. It tasted more like a sour licorice mixed in with the burning aftertaste of a hard liquor. Just like his penis. She realized he must have spilled some of it on himself when he passed out. Well, she thought, at least she knew now. But she would not be able to give him oral, no, she would have to use a different part of her body to get him off. What a shame, she thought, as she took off her skirt and rubbed her engorged vulva tenderly. What a shame.
  34.  
  35. Fernweh positioned herself over the hulking monster, her hands gripping his shoulders as she slowly bent her knees to lower herself down to his tip. It pressed against her warm, soft mound, and she giggled at the hot electricity she felt inside at its touch. It twitched against her as well, indicating its joy at the sensation of her womanhood. She pushed down, intending to take it into herself, only for the thing to slip out from between her legs due to how slick she was already.
  36.  
  37. She groaned. She hated when this happened. She reached down with one of her hands to reposition the hot dick against her hole and tried to push down on it again. This time, she felt it nearly pierce her before it bent and slipped out behind her, touching her rear. The fey sighed. This always happened with the big ones. Once again she prepared it below her. This time, she surrendered her hold on the minotaur for balance and grabbed the huge cock with both hands, careful not to fall over. The redhead lowered her hips again, and this time, there was nowhere for the column of flesh to escape. Slowly, carefully, she worked its head into her slit, pressing it into her hot, wet passage.
  38.  
  39. The healthy blush across her cheeks deepened as, inch by inch, the mammoth shaft disappeared into her folds. She could feel her heartbeat quickening at the sensation of fullness, at how it throbbed inside of her. For his part, the huge man’s breathing intensified, hot air blowing out from his nostrils that washed over the nymph’s face. A few moments later, she had finally buried the whole thing inside of her, and she straddled the bull-man’s pelvis, her knees on the ground, her thighs tightening around him as her pleasure mounted.
  40.  
  41. After taking a second to acclimate to the girth inside of her, Fernweh proceeded to lift her hips and lower them, only able to extract a few inches of his mighty flesh before she made the return trip. Pleasurable sensations ran through her core, and she gasped. It was so deep that she had to lean back, sliding up and down it weakly. His thick head bulged under the flesh of her belly ever-so-slightly, something that may have been uncomfortable for a normal woman, but for a spirit of nature like her, such a thing was intoxicating. There could be no more direct proof of the virility of the beast before her.
  42.  
  43. And yet, as she slowly pumped herself up and down on his shaft, she found herself surprised. Most unconscious creatures would have already ejaculated, since they had no conscious control over their bodily functions and the body certainly cared not for such things as longevity in bed. Why she knew that particular fact was something she did not wish to think about. What was originally supposed to be a quickie was quickly starting to last quite a bit longer than that, not that she really minded. This was scratching an itch in her that it also intensified, and soon she wanted more and more and more, rather than to be done with it as soon as possible.
  44.  
  45. Up and down she went, savoring the hot weight inside herself, the time flowing away as she rode the massive cock with low, sultry moans. Her breasts bounced against the vice of the ivy that bound them, sweat running down her breasts and into her tight cleavage. Her sweet nectar coated his length plentifully as the minutes passed, the steady rhythm of the sex squishing out soft, wet sounds that faded into the trees.
  46.  
  47. Though most of the animals were occupied with the busy tasks of preparing for winter, they did notice the siren scent of the nymph’s fluids, and more than a few felt the temptation to investigate. Soon, there was a small audience of birds, squirrels, and even a doe, who all watched the redheaded fae’s work in fascination.
  48.  
  49. In time, the nymph began to feel light-headed, making it difficult to think clearly. Opting for a change of pace, she adjusted her position atop the monstrous man. She planted herself firmly upon his pelvis and began to writhe her hips sensually, back and forth, up and down, only moving enough to shift her weight and the way his dick rubbed around inside of her.
  50.  
  51. The slow, rhythmic grinding proved to be far less exhausting in the long run than the lusty humping she did before, but it gave her no less of a hot buzz in her core. Though her illicit union with the beastman seemed to stretch into hours under the cool breeze of Fall, Fernweh continued relentlessly, her quiet groans of frustrated lust betraying her gradual loss of patience. It had become a matter of personal pride to get the minotaur off, and the fact that he proved resistant even while she plunged his incredible, thick, veiny member into her depths irritated her in a good way. It was like a challenge, and she had to admit, the anticipation for his eventual eruption continued to build, heightening her own pleasure more and more.
  52.  
  53. Soon, the nymph tired of the grinding, and decided to change things up once more. Lifting her knees off of the ground, she planted her bare feet firmly into the dirt on either side of the manbeast’s waist, her knees bent up beside her like a frog’s crouch. Her hands moved to his chest, caressing the bulky muscle underneath his sweaty, oily skin. In this position, she could move much further up and down his length, and with all of the strength in her thighs. She purred with ardor as she lifted herself up with her legs and slammed herself back down to his base, shivering at the electricity traveling up her spine.
  54.  
  55. After bucking her hips up and down on the virile shaft a few times, her lips twisted open in a loud, sultry moan, and a bit of drool ran down her chin. Her mind went blank with pleasure, vanquishing all thoughts of getting the minotaur to cum, leaving only sexual frenzy. Everything before this could not compare - all of the sex up to this point was beginning to pile up in her senses, her silken folds twitched around his throbbing manhood harder than ever. She chewed her lip and grunted, accelerating her pace, desire driving her to ride him harder and harder. Lewd squelches echoed every time she buried him into her depths, her eyes growing half-lidded with pleasure and her mouth hanging open in her passion. This was no longer mere sex, but raw, bestial fucking.
  56.  
  57. Entranced by the surging bliss inside of her, she barely even registered the approaching steps behind her. They sounded like hooves, but there were only two of them, an odd detail that she realized at the same time that a voice spoke, breaking the string of raunchy sex noises.
  58.  
  59. “Not this crap again! You nymphs are all the same. You see a hunk laying around and you think that’s an open invitation to start fucking him,” came the feminine tones from behind and to the right of the nymph. She glanced over her shoulder, seeing a voluptuous curly-haired brunette faun standing with a hand on her hip and a scowl on her face. From the edge of her thighs down to the hooves on the ground, her legs were those of a deer, brown and spotted with white. She had small vestigial antlers on her head, and undoubtedly a cute, fluffy, tail, but the rest of her body was decidedly human.
  60.  
  61. Naturally, Fernweh’s eyes immediately moved down to look at the faun’s smooth vulva, which she stared at hungrily as she continued to hump the hybrid man beneath her. The faun’s breasts were notably larger than her own, and had a healthy jiggle to them every time the newcomer shifted her weight. But what was most impressive was the wide roundness of her hips, completing the sexy hourglass figure of the mythical creature behind her.
  62.  
  63. “What, nothing to say? You’re just gonna eyefuck me while you fuck my husband? Real classy, bitch,” the faun scoffed, folding her arms under her bare, ample bosoms, slightly lifting them up. The nymph, of course, watched this occur with an eager gaze, even as she considered the new information before her.
  64.  
  65. “Oh, uh, sorry, I guess,” Fernweh muttered under her breath. She never did like fauns, even if they were sexy little minxes in the sack. The redhead’s long, wavy hair bounced with her whole body as she continued the lewd act regardless of the fact that she was violating the husband of the irate woman behind her. She was far too invested in it to stop now, she told herself.
  66.  
  67. “You’re shameless,” the faun sighed, walking closer until she was standing right behind the hot fae. “But that’s alright, I’m a forgiving woman. There are few who can keep their hands off of my husband, even me. The way you’re moving, you’d think you hadn’t been with a man for months, poor thing. I’ll let you have your way with him, just this once. He certainly wouldn’t complain, the drunken fool.” She reached out, and Fernweh felt the deer-woman’s soft fingers running over her shoulders, massaging them in circles, occasionally traveling down her front to caress her collarbones sensually. The nymph moaned through her teeth and arched her back, inhaling sharply. It was too good.
  68.  
  69. “Oh, that sensitive, hmm? You must have been at this for ages. I can only imagine how pent-up you must be feeling right now. Is my dear hubby’s cock driving you mad?”
  70.  
  71. “It’s great!” the redheaded fae gasped, gritting her teeth and closing her eyes as she slammed herself up and down on the massive girth. Schlup, schlurp, schlup, her pussy squeaked, reacting to the wandering hands that quickly pulled the leafy brassiere off of her chest, revealing her supple bust in all of its glory as it bounced in circular motions with the rhythm of the sex.
  72.  
  73. “Good, good, but you should know: my husband was cursed by a witch many moons ago. His seed is magical, and can impregnate any female creature – even a spirit, like, say, a nymph,” the faun purred. Fernweh’s eyes widened as she processed those words. “Considering how deep you’re taking him, and how long it’s been since he’s last blown his load… well, given the totality of the circumstances, I dare say you’ll be with his child when he pops.”
  74.  
  75. The nymph automatically humped the beastman’s shaft a few more times out of sheer reflex, but some level of sense returned to her as the dread of potential motherhood set in. She was a wanderer, a traveler who could not bear to settle down. Having a child would ruin her happy-go-lucky way of life, and worse, she was emotionally unprepared for such a prospect. Nymphs were not even supposed to have children! Though, it was not entirely unprecedented. The magic for such things existed. And she had fucked her way right onto someone who had been given a dose of said magic.
  76.  
  77. Though her base instincts screamed at her to continue anyways, logic won out, and she began to stand up to escape such a terrible fate. But before she could even pull off of the hot member inside of her, two hands seized her shoulders and forced her right back down, till he was buried to the hilt in her tight passage once more. The nymph glanced back over her shoulder at the sexy faun in shock, and the wife of the minotaur crouched down behind her with a fiendish grin on her face. “What are you doing?!”
  78.  
  79. “You don’t get to work my poor husband so hard and then just walk away, bitch. Finish what you started. Besides, judging by the look of things, you can barely keep from gushing all over him, yeah? Don’t worry, I know him, he’s on the edge, too. You just need to give him a little more,” the faun giggled, squeezing up against the nymph. Her wondrous breasts pressed into Fernweh’s back, soft and warm, her nipples rock hard. She held the nymph tightly in place, ensuring she could do nothing other than fuck the virile beast beneath her, and, after a tense moment’s hesitation, the redhead’s hips moved back down with a slick noise. She continued where she had left off, unable to deny the urges emanating from her womb.
  80.  
  81. “Yeah, that’s right, work him over, you slut,” the faun said in a lusty tone, her hands moving to cup and squeeze Fernweh’s ample jugs, making the nymph bite into her knuckle to suppress a lewd moan as she bounced up and down with more ferocity than ever before. With her nerves on edge, the fear proved to only enhance the mind-numbing pleasure, something that dismayed her, but she could barely focus on such things with the sensations traveling through her traitorously libidinous body.
  82.  
  83. Damp heat from the deer-woman’s nethers pulsed against her rear. The stranger was practically grinding up against her in rhythm with the nymph’s downward thrusts onto the meatstick that tore her inhibitions away like a knife through butter. The skilled, powerful massage Fernweh was receiving on her pillowy breasts made her heart flutter like that of a bird, what little resistance she had left towards the situation melting away. It was not as though she had forgotten about the danger throbbing deep inside of her, but she also could not deny that it all felt so simple, natural, primal. It felt right. All of that pleasure, all of the raw intensity pounding through her being, it was all mounting up, pushing her to the brink of insanity.
  84.  
  85. “Ooh, he’s about to cum,” the faun purred from behind as she fondled the nymph harder and harder. The minotaur’s leg twitched and kicked as he snorted in his sleep, proof that he was about to blow. The redhead could not help but give him a few more humps of utter ardor as the heat of the moment overtook her, each one squelching louder and deeper than the last. Finally, as the mammoth man’s balls throbbed upwards, she slammed herself down to his base with a passionate cry, her eyes tightly shut and her back firmly arched.
  86.  
  87. The first, powerful jerk of his cock shot a thick stream of semen right into her depths, something she could not only feel, but which held an exhilarating potency for a spirit of nature like her. Splurch, splurch, splurch! Each subsequent throb brought forth more and more seed to fill her up, ropey strands flooding her and painting her insides white. The prolonged, carnal moan that spilled from Fernweh’s lips as she shook with a white-hot orgasm betrayed every ounce of physical bliss she felt. Her velvety folds rippled and clamped around the huge dick inside of her, prompting it to spill more and more of its hot cum into her, something it was all too happy to oblige.
  88.  
  89. It was not long before the flowing spunk began to spill out from her vulva, splattering all over both her and the minotaur’s pelvises. And yet, he continued to ejaculate, like an endless torrent of semen. Overwhelmed, exhausted, and still in a state of pure ecstasy, it made the nymph’s eyes flicker upwards, almost passing out from the sheer immensity of the pleasure.
  90.  
  91. Eventually, even the minotaur’s virile body could not produce any more seed, and the flow into the nubile fae ended, the throbbing member slowly starting to soften. Fernweh’s orgasm faded as well, but it lasted much longer, like coming down from a long buzz. Her body told her that everything was perfect, and it was hard not to feel brilliantly content even if she had done something she could never take back. She finally relaxed, leaning back into the arms of the faun behind her, who cooed and kissed her on the neck gently.
  92.  
  93. “That was pretty impressive. It’s rare that he comes so hard, I assure you. You’re pretty good!” the faun said, groping Fernweh a little more and causing her to squirm and chew on her lip. The compliment was noted by the nymph, but there was a slightly more pressing matter on her mind as it cleared up of all the sexual haze.
  94.  
  95. “Am-am I pregnant?” she panted.
  96.  
  97. “Oh, pffft, of course not. I was just kidding about that curse thing. Just me getting back at you for screwing my husband. Relax.”
  98.  
  99. “Oh thank the gods,” Fernweh said, her heart flooding with relief.
  100.  
  101. “But what would you have done if I wasn’t playing a trick on you?”
  102.  
  103. “Um, cried. A lot,” the nymph said truthfully.
  104.  
  105. “That certainly would have been awkward. So, you come here often, miss nymph?” the faun asked, pinching her nipples playfully.
  106. “My name is-name’s Fernweh,” the redhead said with a sharp intake of air, her cheeks flushing once more.
  107.  
  108. “And I’m Lorana. And that lazy good-for-nothing who didn’t wake up even after all of that is Bert. It’s the rotvine wine he drinks so much of, I tell you. Puts him out for most of the day. Still, it’s rather late now, would you like to come with me back to our humble abode?” Lorana asked with a toothy grin. The nymph considered the offer momentarily even as her body continued to be the plaything of the horny faun. It was not a difficult decision to make.
  109.  
  110. “Well, alright,” the redhead smiled. She could already feel the strength returning to her form as magical energy flowed into her en masse. A huge dose, as one would expect, but not quite enough to fill up completely. Getting some more would be… prudent.
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