Lydria  || Luckily for their patrons, the robes weren't fully unfastened, just the top portion where her bountiful bosoms were set free from their constricted confinement whilst her betrophed lavished within the means of tending to the flesh that was rightfully his. His bride-to-be, simply keeping as silent as one could in the moment, letting her visage composed within a near lewd expression of a lip-bitten grin tossed as she managed to let one little breathy voice escape on euphoria before she came to clear her throat in a nervous gesture as someone seemed to regard them with a scowl. Truth be told, this wasn't the worst thing caught midst the tavern walls, yet they made it seem like a little taste of the flesh was so disturbing compared to openly stabbing an innocent just 'because'. Violence was seen socially acceptable, but indulging upon exposed flesh wasn't? Patrons surely needed to re-evaluate their own morals, especially the question of why they even bother to hang about a place that served Alcohol, drugs, and sex as profit of income. The nerve of some people warped within their own jealousy. The Elven figure midst Durandal's lap emitted yet another gasp before she'd form her hands upon his visage, shrugging her shoulders forward as if not wishing to have further prying eyes of several men towards the bar oogling at the size of her breasts, granted they were like any other typical female within that department, but suppose they just never seen an Elf's breasts before as each nipple was pierced for her beloved; that on it's own was very much indeed a rare sight to behold, if not considered 'unusual' due to the unorthodoxed representation of women being degraded to be a certain 'status' midst social standards. Luckily for Andrija, she didn't have to worry about that, she had everything she needed to impress and entertain right before her, and he seemed quite content, if not proud to call her his. "Hulle staar na ons..." She breathed, taking another gander towards those watching, "Dit laat my hulle verder wil pynig. Die wete dat hulle nooit sulke soepel vel sal lik, suig of sal byt nie..." This soft 'coo' of a chortle emitted whilst she'd idly brush her nose against his in an adoring fashion.
Lev: The softest pair of tits, I dare say proudly and arrogantly, filled My senses. Nursing on those succulent pillows that looked ever so perfect wrapped around My manhood on nights..and mornings when I took her, our bodies were so different in contrast, complete opposites of one another but...even still they seemed to be born and bred for one another, like it was destined they we would meet one another. I felt your soft gasp, and your hindered moan, trying to supress the sensitive way your orbs felt with My rough, callous hands and My hungry, drooling lips. Even if it was public affection, I would not dream of letting wandering eyes feast on the form of the soon to be mother of My children. Your golden tassels drew over our faces like a curtain to a closing threatre that was just getting to the climax, a soft growl curled against your hardening nipples as My free hand wrapped against you and pulled you to straddle over My lap completely and brought My growing monster agaisnt your heated core. This way of the world was opposite too, while the patron scorned at our display, in the non-civilised tribes of barbarians..a display such as this was encouraged. A man needs to be able to take what belonged to Him, with His strength, His Dominance, He was to show the entire village, the tribe who He was claiming and announce that no hand besides His would ever lay on His woman and bride-to-be. This way of the world...had it backwards...What could be a better delight then to take you over My lap and make you ride My shaft after a feast or meal at night, over a cracking and blazing fireplace...with others not purposely looking or ignoring our moments, just accepting it as a rite of lovers. My eyes would peer from behind your golden curtains, returning any perving eyes with an intense gaze that likened to a greedy, posessive predator who wont let anyone take His mate from His clutches. Unlike the common tavern whores that riddled these parts of the land...My elf..My Andrijah was My trophy..My pride..My everything...Nothing could even compare to her let alone even touch the bottom of the tall pedastal I had placed her on. "Laat hulle staar, want dit is alles wat hulle ooit sal wees .. 'n gehoor vir ons teaters ... kykers na ons liefde .. alles buite bereik van hierdie dwase .."