Soon the rhythmic impacts of the warlock's groin clapping against the wizardess's glorious bubble-butt became the underlying beat to the companions’ lewd symphony of pleasure, With the girls’ cock-muted and pussy-muffled yelps and the guys’ grunts and growls of throat-banging and pussy-plowing delight filling their ears, the four friends lost themselves in another intense nightly orgy, warmed by the dancing flames of the campfire and by the heat of their shared, collective lust.

Lying motionless on the ground in the darkness just outside the orange glow of the fire, armored up and still clutching his breviary, Aldarius Van Holt snored and drooled in his obliterating, potion-induced sleep.

Earlier that night, when he had suddenly felt lightheaded as he was reciting his evening devotions after dinner, the paladin had smiled as he had started feeling awareness slipping away. While swiftly transitioning into unconsciousness, crumpling to the ground in a dead faint, Aldarius's last coherent thoughts had been happy, glorious even,

Far from being suspicious or worried about the fact that he was passing out on a regular basis since they had started their journey into the wilderness, Aldarius saw his nightly blackouts as divine signs. The paladin's faith was so boundless, unwavering and blind that he had become convinced that he truly was a chosen of the Gods of Light.

Stubbornly self-involved and prone to delusions of grandeur as he was, Aldarius had no doubt whatsoever that his collapses were due to the blessed touch of the deities of Good, whose approval he was sure he had gained once and for all by embarking on the sacred quest to reclaim the Chapel of Red Spires. In fact, the paladin had come to see his blackouts as the ultimate proof of his uniqueness in the eyes of the Gods,

Certainly, those long nightly absences were a sign that They deemed him worthy of being spirited away from the mundanity and insignificance of the material world, so that through divinely inspired dreams he could catch a glimpse of the glorious future that They had in store for him. And indeed every night, as he slept safe and sound in Their transcendental embrace, Aldarius was lulled into a deeper and deeper slumber by holy and highly revelatory visions.

In his dreams, swaddled in the absolute peacefulness of his Gods-sent rest, the knight could see himself standing on the pulpit in the great Cathedral back at the Temple of the Order of the Golden Shield, preaching to his devout brothers. In those visions, Aldarius couldn't hear himself speak, but he could see his fellow paladins drinking in his every word with rapt attention and responding zealously to his disputations, cheering him and crying out with bellowing “Aahh's" and rumbling “Oohh's" while they vigorously clapped their hands in celebration of his greatness and sanctity.

Even when he didn't have any actual visions but was only enveloped in the refreshing and well-earned sleep of the virtuous, Aldarius could still hear the echos of enthusiastic, piously joyous crowds ringing in his ears, and some higher and sweeter praises too. The melodious feminine voices whispering into his sleeping mind had to be those of angels, no doubt, blessing him as they egged him on in his pursuit of glory with their long approving “Yeeesss's" and urging him to persevere in his sacred endeavors with their choruses of “More, mooore, mooooore!"

Those nightly messages from beyond the material world never failed to boost the paladin's already inflated ego. Nothing but self-congratulatory righteousness lingered inside Aldarius every morning when he woke up, rejuvenated and contented and already craving the moment when, after another fruitful day of travel toward his heroic ascension to greatness, the Gods would once again come to visit him, welcoming him into their otherworldly peace and allowing him to enter the ethereal realm of visions and dreams, so that They could communicate with him, Their chosen one.

And so, while the companions fucked and sucked and screamed in pleasure just a few steps away from his passed-out and armor-clad body, that night, like every other night, Aldarius slept and dreamed and was happy, reassured about the path that he had taken in his pious Gods-fearing life and blissfully oblivious to every debauchedly fun, spontaneously life- affirming thing that was actually going on around him.

Pushed forward by Jadrik's vigorous cunt-plugging thrusts, Shayla shivered and came again, letting out a long pussy-muffled moan of release into the slick delicious folds of Laentharyel's little slit. Through the haze of her climax, panting and trembling but still automatically swiping her tongue to lap up the elf's scrumptious nectar, the wizardess did her best to keep licking the huntress‘s smooth wet labia and swollen clit.

No longer on all fours but still offering her pussy to Shayla's slurping mouth, Laeny was now straddling Uli, facing away from him as she recklessly rode his thick pole, moaning uninterruptedly. Reclining against the warrior's barrel-like chest as she rocked and bounced wildly on his lap, the slim elf impaled her own snug pussy with eager abandon on Uli's obscenely wide boner while the dwarf just sat still, grabbing and mauling her perky pointy titties in his beefy hands.

While she slid her slit up and down along the warrior's robust cock, cramming him as deep as possible inside her nectar-drenched vaginal passage over and over again, Laeny still greedily craved the warm wet caress of Shayla's tongue on her clit. With her slender hands entwined in the wizardess's black locks, the overexcited elf urgently held the human girl's face pressed firmly into her dick-filled pussy, mewling in unrestrained enjoyment.

Despite her willingness and her thirst for Laeny's honeyed secretions, Shayla had a hard time giving her horny friend the great cunt-licking that they both wished she could give.

Beside the obvious difficulty presented by the huntress's wild slit- stuffing bounces and erratic rocking motions on Uli's pole, having Jadrik's cock rammed incessantly into her own creamy pussy was making Shayla deliciously unfocused with pleasure. Still, displeased as she might be that her oral technique wasn't optimal, the busty wizardess loved the way Jadrik was pounding her doggy-style with all he had, making her vaginal channel quiver and gush, keeping her curvy body in a state of persistent orgasmic ecstasy.

Shayla's breath caught in her throat whenever the warlock's powerful, toe curling slams jarred her into the elf's juicy slit or, at times, into the dwarf's upward bucking boner. Her mild annoyance at not being able to focus on getting her fill of Laeny's intoxicating ambrosia was more than mitigated by the pleasure she got from Jadrik's rabid pussy-janming strokes.

That was why the wizardess was particularly surprised when, instead of picking up his pace even more and gifting her with yet another crashing climax before finally filling her fiery core with cum, the warlock suddenly slipped his nectar-dripping cock out of her pussy with as swift squishy plop.

“Wimh nooo, Jad! Don't stop, baby... I want more!" Shayla whimpered, removing her juice-glossy mouth from Laeny's snatch to look back over her shoulder at the warlock, maddened by the unexpected emptiness in her hot, needy pussy.

“Put it back in me, pleeease! Give me more, mooore!"

“oh, I plan to give you lots more, my amazing slut," Jadrik grinned, nestling his raging boner between Shayla's plump luscious asscheeks and reaching into the right pocket of his discarded robes.

"I just wanted to switch holes," he explained, retrieving and opening his trusty jar of lubricating salve.

“That story earlier about the Alefather fucking his raven-haired wife in the ass sort of inspired me, I guess..."