Bangin' in the Woods

[00:50] Tristen Nightingale skips the foreplay and grabs Alria by the heavy backpack she carries and roughly drags her off the path, pulling her a few yards into the woods. She tears the pack off and shoves the mercenary against a tree, hard. The force of her armour knocking into the wood crushes a few scales of bark as the rogue starts shrugging out of her own backpack, one hand on Alria to grab her hair tight and pull her head back, exposing her neck for deep, lusty kisses. Her mouth isn't forgotten either, and her protests and confusion is muffled by Tristen's tongue in her mouth, her breath coming out in lascivious pants. When her knapsack falls to the ground, her free hand goes to the soldier's waist, fingertips sliding underneath the breastplate, leather gloves touching skin, then moving up to start unbuckling armour.

Three days of pent up lusts, three days of traveling without getting off, have gotten to her. Night is coming, but she can't wait any longer, and for the last quiet hour she's been struggling with an erection, and thinking about what she'd love to do to her companion. After three days of priapism rearing it's head, she's finally given into lust. "I'm sorry," she murmurs, lips on the other woman's throat, already wetting it, "I can't take it anymore, I need to fuck you so bad..."

[01:04] Alria Truvin gives Tristen an annoyed look when the other woman pulls away, a trail of spit slowly making its way down Alria's cheeks to the dusty ground below. She lets out a long sigh and rolls her eyes, still giving Tristen a look of utmost annoyance. "Fucking really? You couldn't have waited until we set up camp or some shit? We're really gonna do this right in the middle of the fucking woods? Fuck it, fine. Can't say I don't want this shit either." The merc's glare switches to a predatory grin and she leans back on the tree, her own hands going up to rest just above Tristen's crotch. Alria starts to slowly run her finger tips across the other girls bulge, massaging the very tip with her pointer finger. The fondling hand slowly travels up the bulge until Alria dips her hand into Tristen's pants, wrapping around her cock. With the desired treasure firmly in hand Alria pulls it out, letting it flop into open air as the hand goes up to lightly grasp and grab Tristen's own breasts. Every time other girl lays a hand on her bust Alria lets out a light moan, face lighting up as they both play with each other.

[01:25] Tristen Nightingale lifts up on her toes, grinding against Alria's hand, biting her lip to suppress a grin as she slicks the soldier's palm and hastily unbuckles her armour with the swiftness that only comes from illicit practice. The buckles and straps coming away with burglar's grace, Tristen breaks away only long enough to pull the armour off and toss it on the ground before she starts unlacing the collar of Alria's tunic. She wastes no time in pressing her face to the small, pert chest of her traveling companion and takes deep breaths, enjoying the scent of the last several miles, kissing the skin of her chest and pulling the throat of the shirt open wider. The rogue leans down, kneeling so that she can kiss Alria's chest, and the soft, tight leather of her gloves moves back up, coming up below the cloth of the blouse to grope and fondle both taut abdominal muscle and sensitive breast flesh. Though they might leave much to be desired in size, paling in comparison even to the rogues own small breasts, they were lovely and soft and touching them elicited rather pleasant noises from their owner.

[01:44] Alria Truvin 's back arches out as Tristen starts to grope and kiss the merc's breast. What they lacked in size they more than twice made up in sensitivity, the leather gloves bringing out a loud squeal of pleasure each time they so much as brush Alria's breasts. By the time the merc moves her hands down to Tristen's hips shes already writhing up against the tree, her tongue hanging out of her mouth like an animal in heat. Driven by a primal desire to give as much pleasure to her partner as she was receiving the merc tightly grabs Tristen's cock and takes the whole thing into her hand. Her rests just on the tip and she starts to play with it, rolling it underneath her thumb, spreading open Tristen's opening with the flat part of the digit. She gives it a tight squeeze just before she hooks her fingers around the other girl's foreskin pulls down, unpeeling the head of her dick. As her fingers brush up against the accumulated filth and general gunk of the journey Alria gives the rogue a lewd, somewhat condescending smile. "Someone hasn't been washing that well. Thats just poor hygiene, don't you know? Someone should take care of this before it becomes a real health problem. You're lucky I'm such a good fucking samaritan."

[01:59] Tristen Nightingale lets out a sharp gasp, heady and ragged as her sensitive cockhead is revealed. Her passions are redoubled, and she reaches up and pulls at the V collar of the girl's tunic and tears it open, her mouth and lips tasting the sweat of Alria's chest, groping and suckling at her nipples before pulling her hair back and moving up her collarbone, tracing up her chest and neck with frenzied kisses with her cracked lips. "God, suck me now, I want to feel your fucking tongue on my cock..." she moans, into the soldier's ear. She roughly guides her down to her knees, and starts shrugging her hips until her ass is hanging halfway out of her leather trousers and her cock can get free enough to point straight at the woman's face when she's on the ground. Tristen pants in desire, using one hand to lean against the maple tree, rubbing the back of the other across her wet, messy lips.

Her cock is stiff and tumescent, darker and more purple than the rest of the pale burglar, looking needy and painful, with dribbling precum smeared around the tip and caught in the wrinkled folds of her retracted foreskin, mixing with the soft yellow-white flakes of oil, skin, and touched with the buildup of days of travel without access to more than a waterskin and a stream to wash off in. The scent is thick and musky, held in by the thick red pubic hair and made stronger after being trapped so long in the leather. "God, give it to me," she says, barely containing herself, only moments away from simply jamming her cock into her companion's waiting mouth.