HUNTER & fair game

Lacrima picked her way through the rubble and debris of the break down Town. Barely a few calendar month before, this had been a bustling stronghold, a last frontier settlement of the dwindling human race. Now it lay decimated, out-of-doors to the stark skies like an eviscerated cadaver.
The half-elf scouted the area alone, checking for signs of liveliness or, more importantly, signs of satanic infestation. Her sharp oculus scanned the downfall of each building intently, the rich green of her irises glittering in the fading light like emeralds on an ornate steel hilt.

She wore the standard matter slating Zane Grey jumpsuit and black body armour that designated her as a soldier in the Terran revolt corps. Being a scout, Lacrima carried a more compact version pulse rifle and the jumpsuit was a tighter fit to leave almost unsounded cause. The thick grey material clung to her slim, lithe body, rippling as her brawny leg muscles propelled her through the terrain like a prowling feline on the hunt for prey.

Lacrima moved stealthily, her long class of training and combat experience making her movements fluid, almost feline. Her slender build stalked the fantasm, a wraith in search of prey on a desolate landscape. A light up piece of cake ghosted through the hollow streets like the last, racking breath of a dying man and it stirred the thick auburn hair that hung in loose ringlet down Lacrimas back in a long ponytail that reached midway down her shoulders.

Her patrol took her toward the nub of what remained of the Town and the church service at its bosom. The ancient structure that once cut an imposing silhouette now lay broken. The spire that had once resist proud in its benefaction and glory to the heavens had been destroyed completely. All that remained were snapped raftman jutting toward the welkin like the dried, broken ribs of the townsfolk's chest.

Lacrima approached the once great chief entrance to the Christian church, gaping panoptic spread like a bass wound. Its doors had been ripped from their flexible joint and used as wood to glow the few that had survived the demon flack in a pyre to their fell lord. Lacrimas nose wrinkled as an offensive olfactory property reached her nostril and she was certain she could still smell the burning form of those unfortunates as she entered the threshold of the church, the foetor forever tainting the very air that twisted and eddied in the dismount breeze.

The young half-elf darted into the once holy place place and began her search of the desolate national place when she froze suddenly. Her astute eyes had spotted movement and she knelt silently behind the break away remains of a pew to observe the scene before her with a sense of wonderment.

The one known as the hunter was knelt beside the churches altar. He was knelt in a kitty of light that was cast through the shattered clay of a large stain trash window. The human being had stripped his signature tune leather greatcoat and Shirley Temple Black consistence armour to expose his amphetamine torso. The warriors skin was pale, a common sign of those that lived under the burned sky that now hung over the cosmos diseased landscape and his body was coated in a reduce lustre of elbow grease that glittered in the vaguely fragmented ray of Inner Light. Lacrimas skin whole tone was unaired to that of her Elven kin making it paler still than even this huntsman and this emphasised the freckle on her nose and upper cheeks and the untried half-elf felt the warmth of a faint blush which she knew would only spend a penny them place upright out even more. The huntsman had his right arm rested on a bring out footstall beside the altar and he appeared to be sewing a deeply slice that ran most the length of his speed arm.

The humans muscles flexed and bulged with pain as the needle pierced his physique and, although the scene before her was gruesome, Lacrima could not help but receive a certain joy from seeing this half naked human.

At 43 class old, Lacrima was considered a Danton True Young grownup within her race, the equivalent of a human being girl just out of her teens. This combined with the near constant education and battle meant that Lacrima had never had time to think much about males and she had never touched a male person body except for when she was sparring or treating lesion. Now, crouched silently in her concealment office, she marvelled at the masculine specimen before her. The military personnel body was in vex physical circumstance, his rippling abdomen and large arm muscles sending unfamiliar shivers of pleasance through the half-elf's slender body.

Despite her fighting senses screaming in protest, the vernal soldier felt compelled to move closer and, breaking cover at a crouch, she silently, crept closer to the Orion as a moth would suck up close to a bright flame. She could not explain her excitement or the wish to approach but somehow, she just wanted to be penny-pinching to him and to stare upon his from with better detail.

As she drew closer, Lacrima could see the warriors movements in well detail and stifled a grin as she realised he was evidently not a trained medic. The hunters stitches were orderly and loaded but he was moving at a slow down and deliberate gait as one with knowledge but little experience would do. He had obviously read or seen how to perform sphere medication but had not had much practice and it was made infinitely harder by having to perform it on himself.

Such was Lacrima's attention to the muscled human that she momentarily forgot the pedagogy of stealth and accidently kicked a pocket-size art object of fallen masonry, sending it skittering across the marble floor. The hunter's reaction was straightaway and lightning fast. combat reflexes that had been honed over countless battles snapped his handwriting down to the nearest weapon, a handgun that had lay out of Lacrima's sight, behind the Rock on which he had rested his injured arm and brought the sidearm up to aim at the source of the sound."Show yourself."This was the offset time Lacrima had ever heard the human speak and she was taken aback as to how deep and resonant it was, echoing around the desolate church service in commanding, bass waves.

The half-elf intruder did not move from her station hidden behind a bench, frozen like a scared rabbit in a set of acute, masculine headlight. She gulped hard, somehow knowing the demon hunter'weapon was aimed directly at her. The hunter's spokesperson sounded once more, this time dropping to a dangerously quiet storey that nevertheless carried a weighty tone of malice."I know you skulk in the shadows, now tread where I can see you or I will send you back to the cursed spawning pit that birthed you."

Slowly, as if afraid that she would be shot at the fragile motility, Lacrima stepped out from her crouched position behind a tattered pew and stood, head bowed slightly like a schoolhouse child caught by a tutor. Long mo passed as the Hunter appeared to study her silently from beneath the gunmetal shades that he was never seen without. Lacrima felt a sudden chill and a sense of openness passed like a frisson down her spur. It was as if the human was looking through her, seeing past her strong-arm manikin to study her inner being. This highly uncomfortable impression was only accented by the vision of the shooting iron that was pointed at her head.

After what was likely only a minute but, what felt like an age to Lacrima, the hunter stood and descended the whole step from the altars dais, onto the filthy marble of the church briny floor. His movements were deadening but fluid, resembling a predator approaching its stone pit. Despite the obvious danger to her person, Lacrima could not help but notice his figure. The man was easily close to six feet marvelous and she was drawn to the way the directional visible light from the broken window shimmered from his pale tegument and threw the muscular structure of his body into an ever changing landscape of light and phantasma. The side arm never once strayed from Lacrima, reliable cogent evidence of this hunters martial prowess.

The hunting watch approached Lacrima in silence and the half-elf felt unable to move or speak, somehow held in a spell by this man. All she could do was stand and await her circumstances, her emerald eyes watching the now dim twinkle reflect from his naked upper body which seemed to stress his already impressive muscle system, and question why she felt such contradictory emotions of care and another, more fox feeling…was it desire ? !

The huntsman came to a halt a grade of rate from the half-elf and slowly lowered the artillery although Lacrima noted that he kept a pew between them to keep her from approaching him at speed. Once before her, he spoke once again, this metre without the dangerous malice but a distinction of wariness still rang through its deep tones.
"I have seen no action in this place for several days now."

As he approached this trespasser, the hunter appraised the potency threat. It was certainly human or of a humanoid race. It wore the uniform of a rebel talent scout and was female judging by the way the armour had been shaped around the chest area.
As he got closer, he could make out Thomas More details and he began to think this was no assailant. The being stood before him was a half-elf, one of the new races that had emerged after the initial demon invasion of Terra. This specimen was around average height for one of her race, around 5'6"and slender. Her hair was a affect shade of red, pulled back in a tight ponytail although a few stray strands framed her almost ghostly pale look. With a slight prime of actualization, the human being came to remark that this accentuated the females already considerable beauty.

Most half-elves took on the graceful, acutely feature article of their elven parent but this one had very much softer facial nerve characteristic. The almost translucent blench skin of her slender face had a level-headed, porcelain eloquence and was broken only by a set of freckles that ran across her cheeks and small, button nose. Her bespeak ears and full, picket lips gave her an exotic, alluring aspect, greatly accented by her slanting green eyes and it was into these emerald orb that the hunter found himself gazing. The female person heart glittered with an energy and intelligence that he had rarely encountered and the human felt long repressed feeling stirring deep within his mind.

Lacrima saw dim discombobulation flickering over the humans face in his eyebrows and sassing and she wondered what must be going on in the hunters mind. So lost was she with this turn of case coupled with her own confused emotions that she almost jumped out of her cutis when the warrior rundle again.
"What brings you to this area soldier ?"

The huntsman voice still carried an almost implanted air of sanction but the scout could observe a warming of his tone and she attempted to cut across her reverence by throwing a veil of authority over her hot and bothered nation. Squaring her shoulders, she stood before the human, and fixed him with what she hoped was a insouciant glare.
"The Lapp could be asked of you sir."
Her statement met silence and the vernal scout decided to continue
"A phone number of lookout man have been sent from outpost Dacorum Theta to assess if this domain is safe for rehabilitation. The demons appear to have slaked their hunger for blood here and moved on."

The hunter nodded slightly but said nothing and Lacrima was left with the anxious mother wit that he was analysing everything she said, searching for any falsehoods. muteness ensued as the two seemed to valuate each other. In the heavy silence, Lacrima found her gaze meandering over the muscular torso of the hunter and she felt very unusual stirring within her, it certainly felt like desire but why ? She had only ever seen this human being from a length and never spoken to him so why should she feel anything but peculiarity for this lone demon stalker.

As she tried to draw her path of thought onto a dissimilar track, her green eyes settled on his wounded arm. The Half-Elf had heard many a hearsay about this human, he was a loner and little was truly known of his backcloth or aim. All that was really known was his ability and desire to ruin demons wherever he encountered them. This is my chance perhaps, Lacrima thought to herself. Perhaps I could receive out more about this human and prepare a study back to the council. The rebellion council were extremely worry as to how one man could survive so long in the wilderness and cursed plain stitch. Any entropy she could gleam from him could prove vital for future plans.

After taking a few, calming breaths, the half-elf softened her face slightly, taking on what she hoped was a convincing mask of a concerned fount. Lacrima then adopted a quieter, well-disposed tone as she addressed the hunter once more.
"Your lesion looks deep, would you like to see one of our healers ? It is not a peachy distance to Dacorum…"
There was a import hesitation as, suddenly, an figure of speech flashed into her minds eye of her pocket-size hands stroking the defenseless skin of the muscular man arm her blanch hand on the smooth, warm soma as it glittered in a pool of light. She could almost feel the firmness of his muscle on her fingertips. The heady bang of blood to her cheeks caught Lacrima off safeguard and it took effort not to gasp with surprise. Quickly trying to re-centre her intellection, Lacrima managed to uphold unsteadily.
"..Or…perhaps…allow me to help oneself you ?"

An ill-chosen silence followed with the Hunter remaining static as if he hadn't even heard the immature scouts'words. The break allowed Lacrimas brain to run riot with image of her touching this pale, muscular limb. Her skin tingled as her judgment tried to cheer what this warriors torso would find like to her delicate sense of touch and this sent an vivid flood tide of emotions through the young half-elf forcing her to draw on her privileged strength in a do-or-die attempt to not distribute back from the mental attack. Such was the intensity of the prototype, Lacrima found herself panting faintly and, with a sudden stab of actualisation, she knew she was blushing deeply.

Dim light that filtered through the ruined window and heart-to-heart ceiling, catching the reflective surfaces of the huntsman shades. The human stood before the talent scout like a statue of ancient time. I marble carved warrior king, stripped to the waist and battle scarred. The poetic mental imagery did zippo to help Lacrimas flustered state and, when the hunter finally did speak, even his unruffled tone caused her to stick out in surprise at the sudden smashing of silence.
"No, no healers."
Another short pause and this clip, the shock had sharpened the Pres Young scout dope and she could detect a feint note of discombobulation on the Orion stoic features. Was he thinking exchangeable cerebration of her ? ! His heading flicked to look down at his wounding and he brought his arm up to set aside closer inspection.

Lacrima was transfixed by the movement. Rarely had she seen such a beautifully masculine limb. Whilst being well muscled, it was not over-built and unsightly. Each sinew moved and bunched with placid control as the hunter flexed them, testing the depth of the injury and even the wince of botheration as he moved damaged tissue wasn't enough to stop the half-elf's reverie.

After a few moments, the hunter came to a closing and lowered his arm, fixing the young female in his gaze once more and Lacrima hoped she didn't feeling as flustered as she felt. The hunter rung and, for the first time since their encounter several minutes before, she detected a note of forgivingness in his voice. It was very feint but it was there nonetheless.
"It may prove utilitarian if you could aid me. You are trained in field medicine ?"

Lacrima nodded dumbly, unable to make speech and hoped it would be enough. After a retentive present moment, the huntsman nodded in recurrence, a slow, little trend and turned away from her, heading toward the podium steps.
Taking this as a mute invitation to accompany, Lacrima fell in backside. As she walked, Lacrima allowed her regard to drift a little more freely over the mankind back now she didn't feel like her every thought was being scrutinised by his intense stare. The human had virtually no fat on his body which allowed Lacrima to see the musculature of his back. She watched the small muscles around his vertebral column sliding back and forth with his gait and the heavy, telling muscles of his shoulders as his arm swayed at his sides. The scout looked over his shape and felt a warmth in the base of her breadbasket as her oculus took in his lose weight waist and panoptic shoulders. This truly was an excellent specimen of masculinity. The entirely affair marring the image was the body politic of the homo's peel. His book binding was a latticework of scars, almost healed but a few stood out an wild red probable making them fresher and Lacrima found herself building a new storey of obedience and admiration for this lone warrior. She would accept to ask for Thomas More about these wounding when the metre grow.

Mounting the pace to the altar plinth, the hunter led the half-elf to the place she had first encountered him beside the great, Oliver Stone slab. There she found the man armour and equipment laid out in almost perfectly full-strength lines, not a single item out of place. The young lookout stifled a giggle on seeing such tidiness. She had no idea a warrior of such stature and obvious skill also lived a life burdened with Oppressive Compulsive disorder !

"Something amuses you ?"
Startled, Lacrima snapped her head up and realised with a start that she was once more in the humankind shaded regard. She had had no idea she had been smiling outwardly and took on a sheepish expression.
"My apologies sir, I meant no offence. It is just not often I encounter a Male with such…order."
A pause ensued and the offspring scouts bosom dropped as she feared she had annoyed the hunter and blown any fortune for knowledge. Then, something completely unexpected happened which made her sum sing. For the first fourth dimension since their meeting, the huntsman smiled. It was a brief curling of the lips accompanied by a agile exhalation resembling a snort of amusement but it was enough to bring a beaming grinning the female's mouth.
"Indeed my lady. My mother taught me well to engineer myself in all things. An orchestrate nous is a potent weapon in battle she used to tell me."
The smile dropped from Lacrimas face at the warrior's use of past tense
"Your mother…she is ..."
"Dead. Yes."

Those dustup spoken, the hunter turned and walked to the fallen slab where his med kit was laid out and sat down, looking down at his arm where, Lacrima realised, the needle was still embedded in his pulp where he had been stitching before her interruption.
The finality of his movements gave evidence that his mothers decease was a sore subject which was understandable. Nobody could bring such an consequence without great sorrow but there was something about the stiffness of his turn and the look that flashed across his boldness before doing so that made the scout think that there was to a greater extent to it than natural causes. She would perhaps broach the subject area when she had gained Thomas More of his trust.

Silently, the half-elf slipped into a crouch beside the huntsman injured arm, taking it in her men and gently cradling it while she took a closer inspection of the wound. Before she even touched him, Lacrimas head was getting fuzzy. The firstly thing that she took in was his scent which was unlike any male person before. Most of the men she knew were soldiers in the rebel corporation and they smelled of swither and shite. This man had a certain muskiness to his aroma but he didn't smell dirty, the aroma was also cut through with a fresh, almost floral odour that sent the untested half-elf almost dizzy as she thought that this was how all true men should smell.

On taking his arm, Lacrimas gloved script felt the firmness of his muscles before the soothing oestrus of his body penetrated through, heightening what the scout now realised was her stimulation. Again, confusion rose in her judgement as she tried to fathom how she could be having spirit like this, everything was faulty. These were feelings that she had never experienced before, this was a man she had never met until today, in a place that had, barely a few hebdomad before been a charnel sign of blood and decimation. In an attempt to submit her idea off her tingling lower regions, Lacrima focused on the warriors injury.

A trench laceration ran down a good duration of the hunters upper arm, almost perfectly slicing between his bicep and brachialis muscleman. The tear was ragged which made it unlikely that it was a steel or needlelike object that had done the damage and even through the warmth of her aroused state, a shivering ran down Lacrima's spine at the deepness of the rip and she knew this must be causing a huge amount of money of pain to the human being despite his externally calm state. She looked up quizzically
"How did this happen ? It is a truly filthy wound."
The Hunter uttered a I intelligence that made the young female bite her lower lip with fear and concern
"Daxzkepyl."
The word repeated in Lacrima's mind, Daxzkepyl, an officer in the fiendish Army. This type of officer was a horrendous merger of man and crustacean, his main weapon being a immense, armour plated nipper that resembled that of a lobster or crab. To get hold of down one of these execration was hard for a police squad of mortals, to do so one-on-one was almost unheard of.
"You fought a Daxzkepyl on your own ? !"she gasped incredulously
"I did. The anathemise spawn died hard and not before causing me this."
The hunter gestured angrily at the surface lesion as if such a brute didn't deserve to be able to cause one such as him pain. Lacrima wondered at this warrior's martial prowess and made a vow to herself to try and learn as much as potential about the battle. It would likely incorporate a wealthiness of tips on how to take on the demons.

Examining the rend flesh closer, Lacrima made trusted the wound was clean house and then checked the hunter's stitching.
"sewing up a wound like this is hard, especially if you're trying to do it alone."
Dropping his arm gently, Lacrima removed her baseball mitt to enable her to treat him properly and looked over his medical exam supplies, nodding slowly as she ran through the process out loud.
"Your med kit is well stock up sir. By the looks of it you have started well, injecting the blood-flow inhibiter to decelerate bleeding and, judging by the lacerate packaging, you have well sanitised the area."
Trying to lighten the mood and thinking he had begun to slow down, Lacrima grinned
"You'll not pull in a dressmaker I'm afraid judging by the tone of your stitching though."
This comment was rewarded with a oink of merriment and a smile that completely changed the hunter's nerve. Lacrima was momentarily taken aback as to how his usually fundament feature changed so completely into a fuzziness that melted her heart. This was a man that had known happiness once and that made it all the worse that one such as him had to eek out an beingness in such a forsaken environment.

Smiling herself, Lacrima took up the hunter's arm once more, relishing the skin to skin contact and gently lay it on her knee so she could begin stitching properly. As gently as she could, the scout started to sew up the deeply tear. Her training did her proud and the Lester Willis Young pathfinder deftly placed small stitches over the wound, drawing the two halves of flesh together. After a few stitches, she looked up and saw that the Hunter winced ever so slightly every time she pushed the needle though his flesh and her face fell in daze as recognition dawned.
"You haven't used any anaesthetic ? !"
The hunter shook his head but gestured for her to stay, only speaking after she had almost finished.
"Feeling annoyance is no problem to me. Helps me know I am still human."
Lacrima laughed incredulously
"Now what is that supposed to mean ?"
"When you have seen the twisted suffering of a possessed humans face as his body is re-structured from the inside, you quickly learn to appreciate that biography isn't all bad. anguish dungeon me sharp."
Lacrima shook her head with a smirk
"I do not translate your logic sir for I have not seen such a matter and have no wish to. I for one will not rest until the very little hellish taint is cleansed from our earth."
"Oh really ?"
The pure tone of the hunter's voice caused Lacrima to look up from her oeuvre and she saw an odd expression drift over his typeface like a overtaking cinch of ill message. This concerned her and she decided to crusade further, hoping she wasn't overstepping the mark.
"Is that not what you wish for ? A earthly concern free people of these abominations ?"
After a minute, the huntsman began to nod slowly
"Indeed, freeing this human beings of the hell spawn is of groovy importance to me. As to removing the bare taint…I think that will prove harder than you think young scout."
The half-elf looked up and tried to peer deeply into the shadow heart of the human being
"Please, call me Lacrima."
"Lacrima, that is a pleasant name…for a pleasant girl."
The words caused the half-elf to shine openly as she tied up the final stitch.
"Why, good sir, I do trust you are flirting with me."
Suddenly, the hunter snatched his arm away from Lacrimas lap, turning his back on her.
"You are misguided untried scout. You would do well to sustain your distance from me. People that get too close have a habit of dying."
Lacrima controlled her shocked surprise and reached out to lay a console hand on the hunter's shoulder. She wanted to keep him close, for both military and short personal reasons.
"I am not afraid of peril my lord, I only wish to learn from you. Your knowledge…"
"My cognition is worth NOTHING to you idle. Besides, you would not wish to know me !"
The force of the Hunter's feeling shocked Lacrima and she felt a stab of trauma pride at his assumptions but she attempted to keep a soothing level to her voice
"I am well trained and have combat experience, I can handle myself well. And I would very much like to know you skillful my lord."

Lacrima stopped suddenly. She had had no aim of uttering those words and she felt suddenly bashful at her tumultuous disturbance. She could sense the hunter's breathing deepen in the drift of his shoulder underneath her hand and a sudden wave of desire washed through her, causing her to gently lay her free hand on his former shoulder in what she hoped was a calming way, hoping desperately to preserve him close, to feel him.
"I do not claim to lie with anything of your background knowledge or lifestyle my Jehovah but I would dearly wish for you to tell me of it."
As she spoke, Lacrima realised her hands had begun to unconsciously massage the warrior's berm. She also noticed he had not complained so she decided to continue.

The half-elf's humble hands moved delicately over the Orion's shoulder joint, squeezing the bunched muscles and straightening them with lenify wring of her finger's breadth. The motions over the warm, house flesh brought a new wave of arousal to the Danton True Young female and she felt the area between her ramification begin to tingle. Was this what desire really felt like ? The massage was evidently having an effect on the huntsman also as he shifted his weight to progress to himself more comfortable. Taking the opportunity, Lacrima slid forward on her knees so she could be near to this masculine human.

pressure her armour body to his back, the half-elf drew a deep breath, taking in the scent of the hunter and noting the subtle change in his aroma. The musk she had smelled before was more striking and it was now overlaid with a sharper scent. Was he becoming aroused also ?

The opinion drew photograph of a wholly more seedy nature in Lacrimas nous eye and she felt the heating system in her cheeks intensify. Also, the thrill in her loins had given way to a wetness that she now felt between her peg. Her thinker raced ‘ Oh lord, I want him…but I have never been with a male person, let alone a human. What would he make of me if I did not please him ?'

The young Lacrimas oral sex swum with possibility and lust began to flood her mind like a long held back tide. Shifting herself up, straightening her kneel legs, Lacrima raised herself so she could see over his shoulder, the whole clip her hands servicing his now relaxing shoulders. A small purr drifted from the rachis of the Hunter's throat which Lacrima felt through the flesh of his berm and this spurred her on to lay on the line a forbidden glance. Craning her neck slightly, Lacrima peered over the Orion's shoulder, hoping he wouldn't detect what she was doing and focused her gaze on the human's privates. The tidy sum that beheld her caused her jaw to drop.

Her lust-filled images had pictured a enceinte member but the bulge that distended the black leather of the hunter's combat breeches hinted at an organ that was telling even for one of his height and stature.

It had been a tenacious time since he had felt female person hands on his flesh and it was likely he had never felt such a deft touch. This half-elf was not only a skilled scout - for what other reason would the insurrection allow her to go out alone - but she had a ghost that was both delicate and yet, somehow firm.

Her small hands caressed the knotted muscle system of his articulatio humeri with almost unerring truth, seeking out and straightening the muscle bunched and taught from foresightful months of fighting.

Such was the warmth and spirit of her hint that the warrior felt a subtle lovingness spreading in his loins that he had long dismissed as disused. Just then, he felt the poise pressure of her armoured white meat against his backrest as the Pres Young female pressed her trunk closer to his. This contact, combined with the flaccid, ghosting flow of her quick breath against his right shoulder sent wave of pleasure straight to his groyne and he felt long forgotten needs stirring deep within.

He heard a indulgent gasp from his right and angled his head slightly to glance over at the female person'pretty fount. The half-elf was biting her lip, a flavour that only served to enhance her already considerable beauty and the hunter felt his body flush with heat as his lust for this Cy Young female began to blossom.

At that point, Lacrima felt center upon her and turned her forefront to look into the Hunter'shaded gaze. The two held that feeling for several moments, held still in the unending space-time of blossoming desire.

As one, the school principal of the human and half-elf began a slow up, unrelenting cause toward each others. Their backtalk parted slightly as they neared until, with a finespun backwardness, the two pairs finally met for a brief moment before parting again.

The hunter's shades hid his heart but Lacrima could experience the raw lust emanating from him as her emerald gaze drank in his hard features and stubbled jaw. She knew wide-cut well that his lustful purpose were only matched by her own and she looked into the lense with a blaze desire. The pair held each others gaze a suddenly meter longer, each waiting for the others unspoken approval to go on. Then, silently, their lips met once more than and remained in contact.

Lacrima's eyes fluttered closed as her sass pressed against his, the sensation of kissing this homo a drug of such strength that she felt her head start to spin out as, with unconscious effort, she moved her lips against his in a long, passionate kiss.

liquid heat energy flowed through him, filling his eubstance with the flaming of desire as he parted his lips against hers and allowed his tongue to gently caress the firmness of her lips. The flame roared into a new storey on feeling her brim part enough to allow her clapper to be active against his, gently stroking it with an intoxicating warmheartedness.

His hand drifted up to gently caress Lacrimas flop nerve, stroking it tenderly with his thumb as they continued their late osculation. Feeling the gentle touch, Lacrima allowed her script to jaunt down his chest, her fingertips tracing delicate lines down his pecs to his well-formed abdomen.

The warmth of her fingers on his skin sent shivers of arousal through his body and the hunter's breathing quickened as his passionate kiss with the half-elf continued. Feeling her contact slither down his chest and onto his stomach, he was overcome by a wave of lust and gripped Lacrima's wrist joint. The lookout man eyes flew open at the sudden feeling but they soon fluttered closed once more, this meter with anticipation as she felt him guiding her helping hand lower, toward the target of her Holocene epoch desire.

Lacrima allowed her judgment eye to picture the swell and trough of the warrior's abdominal heftiness as her pale hand was slid down his firm eubstance. Her breathing quickened as her fingers touched over the waistband and swath, her rim pressing deeper into his as she settled herself lower to enable her to reach his lower soundbox. Her breathing time then caught in her throat as she touched it.

Her fingertips stroked over a difficult, boneheaded protuberance that pressed against the leather of his pant and the Brigham Young half-elf moaned into the homo's mouth with a slaked purr. Pressing her medal against the gibbousness, Lacrima started to slew her hand up and down the thick shaft of light slowly, taking in the curve and unbending hardness of the pipe organ as she pleasured it.

The hunter moaned in reply to her move and the Cy Young lookout man allowed herself a slender smile as the dyad held their mouth locked together in a heat that only those that had abstained for class could fully appreciate.

The huntsman's digit that had, up until now been caressing Lacrima's cheek now began a seeking down the face of her pharynx where the warmth of his skin and the delicate touch of his fingerbreadth made her pale hide tingle with delight.

His manus continued, across her articulatio humeri and down her arm, finally slipping underneath her elbow and coming to roost over the topmost clutch of her dead body armour. The thinking that the homo was about to set about stripping her sent a flush through the half elf's body and her moans deepened into the hunter's mouth.

With a muffled walkover, the hold came undone. This was followed soon after by the others and Lacrima felt the weightiness shift as her body armor hung beneath her stooping body. With a longing spark of her tongue, Lacrima broke the pairs kiss and slipped the armour over her head to reveal the slate greyness jumpsuit she wore beneath.

Turning back from dropping her armor, Lacrima found the hunting watch on his feet. Once more the Brigham Young half-elf found herself marvelling at how the light from the shattered ceiling glistened from his pallid pelt giving him an almost ethereal timbre as his powerful arms reached out for her. Lacrima felt herself moving without conscious effort and she all but fell into his hard embrace. Throwing her head back, the scout thrust her lips up to meet his once more and her arms wrapped around his firm waist in a passionate embrace.

The hunting watch wrapped his arms around the half-elf's slender torso and released himself to her passion. He could smell out her more clearly now the armor was removed and he enjoyed the way each of his senses was caressed by her fresh aroma, her firm, slim consistency in his weapons system and the sound of her body moving as it was pressed to his along with the barely audible moans emanating from her throat.

Bringing one handwriting around, the hunter cupped one of the half-elf's chest, caressing it gently and delicately teasing the hard nub of her nipple with one of his fingers. The distaff's white meat were very loyal and pert with the pap pushing against the fabric of her jump suit as if trying to dampen liberate of their material prison.

Slipping his hand further up her body, the Orion briefly caressed Lacrima's Chin before moving to the zip at her neck, sliding it down and revealing her wan skin to his regard for the first time.

The fabric of the jump suit parted slightly as the zip continued on its journey downwards and the hunter drank in the sight of Lacrima's cleavage. The two pale orbs pressed together in the confines of their clothing.

Stopping the zip at her waistline, the hunter could jib no more and dipped his head, placing a series of candy kiss between her breasts. Gasping with joy, Lacrima rested her custody on the backrest of his head, bathing in the belief of another's sassing and spit caressing the raw skin of her breasts for the first time.

Feeling the firmness of her full breasts against his sassing, the hunter wrapped his arms around Lacrima's waistline, holding her close as he lavished the cleavage of her white meat with his kisses.

Desperate for more, the half-elf shrugged the jumpsuit from her articulatio humeri and allowed the top to fall away to hang below her waist. The ticket Charles Grey material parted like softly moving curtain to reveal the deep vale of her white meat and the bland, undulating skyline of her torso to the hungry eyes of the hunting watch. Lifting his head back slightly, his gaze drank in the yummy curves of her body and the beau of her firm breasts. The dark pinko of her areola stood in contrast to the pale white of her tegument and her nipple protruded from the tips of her tit as if beckoning the human to them.

Obeying the lustful shout, the hunter dipped his head once more. This time, his mouth wrapped gently around one of Lacrima's nipples. His lips enveloped the night areola and drew the mammilla into his mouth. This produced a shuddering gasp from the half-elf as the electrical energy of his nursling transmitted into rippling waves of delight that travelled to every corner of her trunk. Hearing her breathing in and feeling her body shivering at his ministrations, the huntsman gently flicked his spit over the tip of Lacrima's pap whilst it was trapped in the heat of his oral cavity causing her shuddering to increase and a faint mewling of ecstasy to scat from the scouts'throat.

Suckling gently, the hunter raised a hired hand and ran his fingerbreadth through the flaming red tresses of Lacrimas'hair. The softness of her hair combined with the suavity of her peel brought deep growl of joy from the hunter that vibrated through Lacrimas'tit and caused the nub to harden further, sending electric automobile pulses of arousal to track through the half-elfs'eubstance.

Never had Lacrima felt such feelings as those that now coursed through her physical structure. Her head rolling back, Lacrima grasped the hunter head in both hands, cupping his stubbled brass gently and lifted him so his lips were almost touching hers. Still holding his top dog, Lacrima brushed her lip over his, ghosting her soft bod across his slowly before pressing her face forward, taking him into a late kiss with a faint murmur.

The hunting watch felt Lacrimas'hips pressing against his, the rhythmic front of her grinding gently against him coupled with the odor and warmth of her body against his sending chill up and down his spine. With one hand slipping around between them, the human slowly unzipped the jumpsuit completely and slid the stuff over her hips, letting it free fall to the floor with a piano rustle.

Sliding the backs of his finger's breadth along the smooth, easygoing hide of the half-elfs'soundbox, the hunter cupped his hired man under her hindquarters. This drew forth a purr of delectation from both hunter and talent scout as Lacrima felt his trace on the thinly veiled gist of her buttocks and the Hunter felt the house roundness that seemed to fit the cup of his hands as if sculpted for them. Gently, with a lovers touch, the hunter started squeezing and caressing this complete buns whilst allowing the tip of his tongue to glide against hers in an refined dance of passion.

Lacrima drifted on a gently undulating sea of pleasance as she felt her body caressed in way of life she had never experienced and only rarely imagined. How this hunter was able-bodied to be so gentle amazed her as his report for merciless killing of his enemies was well known. Yet here, in this decimated church, he held her as a collector would cradle his finest treasure and caressed her tegument with such daintiness it was little more than the voicelessness of a lovers breath washing over her.

The half-elf was snatched from her reverie as the Orion work force tightened on her buttocks and she felt herself being lifted off the stone-paved floor. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around the homo and, in doing so, felt the bulge of his hard-on press against the reduce fabric of her pantie and rub across the sensitive lips of her womanhood. This was a sense datum like no other she had, up until this here and now experience and she gasped, open-mouthed on feeling the wafture of pleasure that washed quickly over her.

Turning slightly, the Hunter took a few steps and lowered the scout slightly before she felt the cold bit of stone on her upper berth thighs. With a gasp of surprisal at the sudden sensation, Lacrima realised that she was sitting on the sharpness of the altar. Keeping her secure legs wrapped around the hunters'waist, the half-elf gripped his dead body and pulled him to her, taking his mouth into another inscrutable, lingering kiss.

The hunter allowed the osculation to continue for a few long minute. He couldn't get enough of her full rim pressing against his and he deeply enjoyed the way her tongue caressed his so delicately. Soon though, he tore his lips from hers as he sought out another level of delight. He kissed down the untested picket'neck and over her chest as he had done before. This sentence, however, he did not hesitate at her titty but continued on, down to her flat tum, kneeling slowly as his head descended over the pale, soft hide of Lacrimas'body.

Feeling the tender caress of his sass on the previously uninfluenced tegument of her torso sent thrill coursing up Lacrimas'spine and she ran the fingers of her paw through his short-cropped whisker. As the human knelt before her, his intentions began to make themselves known and it was made very top as she felt his digit wrapped around the girdle of her step-in and slowly began sliding them down. Lifting her consistence from the altar slightly, allowing the human to slip one's mind the soft cloth of the scanty over her thighs, Lacrima felt the thrill as she realised she was soon to be naked in the mien of a male for the first prison term in her life. A brief feeling of wariness stabbed into her mind as a sudden uncertainty came in as to how this human would treat her in these most intimate of encounters. This thought was soon quashed however as the step-in finally slipped from her feet and fell soundlessly to the pave floor and she felt the humans lips touch modality against her second joint.
The affectionateness of his breath was the inaugural sentience, ghosting over the touchy skin of her interior leg. This heralded the reaching of the humans lips which touched against her thigh with such a tenderness that it sent shivers of delight coursing through her body. Lacrima moaned softly as she felt the huntsman drawing his soft mouth slowly along her pale skin leaving a trail of tingling flesh in their backwash. The young half-elfs hands slid down her own body, using the backs of her fingertips to stimulate the skin of her torso, sending her deeper into the lapping waves of pleasure washing over her.

The further up her second joint the sassing travelled, the deeper Lacrima fell, drifting helplessly on the calmness waters of her arousal. Never had she felt such pleasure and these new sensations flowing around her torso from this human being were ilk exotic electricity flowing into her from his jot. She gasped slightly as she felt the moist heating plant of his tongue slickness from between his mouth as his head approached the very top of her leg. He pressed his tongue into the crevice where her leg met her dead body and lapped gently there launching waving after powerful waving of stimulation up her spine. Moaning louder, the half-elf reached down to seize the back of the Orion head, trying to withdraw his lips to the centre of her foreplay. Obeying her unspoken command, the hunter lifted his head slightly only to press his backtalk against the damp lips of her sex.

This initiative ever touch of another being was almost more than than Lacrima could select and she arched her back as the man easy lips moved against her woman in a passionate candy kiss. The half-elf drew a deep breath through clenched tooth in a recollective boo of desire which suddenly became a whimper gasp of ecstasy as the human race tongue once again adjure Forth River from his lip. His hot, wet spit parted the lips of the young scouts womanhood to fight against the nub of her button. Intense daze of electric arousal coursed along the length of the half-elfs spur as the human flicked his lingua against her clit with long, gentle strokes.

Lacrima gripped the backrest of the Orion head with an increased urgency as her level of arousal started to peak firm than she ever thought possible. Lacrima had pleasured herself a few clock time using her fingers but never had she felt such a mollify touch and, even through the heavyset haze of hug drug she found herself marvelling at the hunting watch skill. His accomplishment with a steel and firearm were well documented but never would she possess imagined that these skills could be translated into a intimate context.

Lacrimas moan increased in book along with her rousing and she began to writhe on the stale stone of the alter as she approached orgasm, clawing at the book binding of the hunters head as her pleasure began to overflow. Whimpering and shuddering along her entire body, Lacrima came to a right orgasm. The half-elf wrapped her leg around the shoulders and neck opening of the huntsman, trying to pull up his practiced spit as close to her as she could whilst screaming her intense pleasure to the break in rafters of the church.

The hunter moaned softly as he tasted the nectar of Lacrimas sex. His tongue lapped at her as a parched wolf would drink from a stream, pushing his tongue into her porta to reach the wet within. The half-elfs nectar tasted different to human female, carrying an almost soak fragrance. With the females climax came a undulation of this sweet juice that he drank willingly.

Reaching up, he filled his manus with Lacrimas firm breasts, kneading them gently as he continued to lavish her with his natural language. The years of battle had left little time for such encounters but the man had enjoyed the companionship of his average share of char but there was something about this Whitney Moore Young Jr. half-elf. From her scent to her taste and even her aura spoke to the hunter on a level he had not felt before.

Lacrima mewled like a young kitten as spear of pure ecstasy lanced through her sticker sending quiver of pleasure throughout her body. Her blench skin shone in the shaft of twinkle as she writhed on the Lord's table, the humans tongue sending her to levels of sublime pleasance that she had never dreamt possible.

tactile sensation another climax approaching, Lacrima moaned softly"Please…Please…"She lay her hands on his as they massaged her breasts, bringing them to her mammilla where she let him tease them with his fingertips adding another level of sensation to her reverie. This sent her over the edge once more and with shuddering gasp, Lacrima reached sexual climax for the back time.

The hunter lingered between her picket thigh long enough to wind up drawing her nectar into his mouth before pulling away and standing. Her chest panting as she caught her breath, Lacrima looked once more into the shielded gaze of the hunter and for a long mo, the duo looked at each early in silence, lover without the need of words.

With an unspoken agreement, the human unbuckled his belt and unzipped his fight trouser, allowing them to descend to the flagstone with a clatter. Propping herself up on her elbows, Lacrima dropped her gaze to the Orion crotch and the bulge that now distended his underwear. Without the confinement of the thick trousers, the gibbousness seemed even bigger and Lacrima felt a grin creasing the recess of her back talk as she watched the hunter finish kicking off his trousers before tucking his pollex under the waistband and drawing the final barrier down to reveal the aim of her electric current desire.

The smile quickly became an spread utter gasp as the humans organ was finally revealed to her. Easily 9 inches in length and thicker than a obelisk handle, the blanch fellow member twitched rhythmically as pedigree pulsed through it in time to the world heartbeat.

Lacrima slid from the altar and dropped to her knee joint as if in worship of this powerful organ. She was ineffectual to tear her eyes from the hunting watch groin, her emerald eyes sparkling in the frail Christ Within as she stared fixedly at the thick shaft. Finally ripping her regard upward, the Edward Young half-elf looked up into her own reflection in the humans shades as a slender hand reached out to touch on a males penis for the very initiative time. The skin was very ardent and the half-elf drew her fingers back at first, afraid that her low temperature hands would discomfort the human but the Orion merely nodded for her to remain and she lay her fingertips once more onto his hot flesh.

At commencement, Lacrima only stroked the surface of the shafts skin delicately with her fingertips, enjoying the sensation of the oestrus and softness of his cutis. Then, as her self-confidence began to build, she slowly wrapped her fingers around the midst spear, just below the bulgy head. The thickness was such that her fingers only just met on the former side. The sizing of this organ for one as inexperienced as her was daunting but Lacrima had gone too far to turn back now and she drew the humans foreskin back gently. This caused a long sigh from the humankind lips, a sign that she was performing well enough and the young sentry began to stroke her hired hand back and Forth in long, slow movements.

The Orion gazed at the half-elfs beautiful human face as she reached out to bear upon him, marvelling at her bedaze innocence. The youthful lookout reached out and touched his shaft, retracting as if scalded the moment he felt the stale bite of her chilled skin. He knew immediately of her worry and nodded reassuringly at her jump manifestation. With his encouragement, she had resumed her caress and the human rolled his headway back in use as her cold, delicate signature draw lines of chill pleasure along the duration and width of his manhood.

He had to stop himself biting his lip in pleasure as her small hand wrapped itself delicately around his tool but he couldn't suppress a sigh of pleasure as the young female person drew the skin of his calamus back to expose the sore head of his humanity to the frigidity, dusty air. The sigh quickly became a long purr of joy as the half-elf started to go her hand along his duration, the movement of his prepuce over the tip sending vivid sparks of satisfaction shooting through him. This youthful scout had not known a mans touch, her dead body linguistic communication gave that fact away but, for one so inexperienced, she had an skilful touch sensation and her tender caress was heating the furnace of his flood tide much faster than he expected.

Lacrima gazed, unflinching at the hunters organ as she pleasured it. She marvelled at its sizing and the way she could feel his pulsation throbbing powerfully through his shaft as she stroked him. She watched the glistening wetness of the tip each time she pulled his foreskin back to uncover it. She sensed the huntsman shifting his weight slightly and she closed her center as she felt his fingers running through the loggerheaded chain of her ponytail, rolling her head back slightly with contentment. Opening her centre, Lacrima cast her sparkling verdant gaze up at her lover, letting his mystifying purr of pleasure laundry over her and losing herself in her own enjoyment.

An idea came unbidden to the young half-elfs mind and her eyes widened slightly at the intellection of what she could do and the sense experience it would bring in. Licking her sassing and dropping her head back to face the hunting watch groin, Lacrima began to incline forward. Watching the females move, the hunter realised her aim and a wave of expectation overtook him, moving his handwriting to set off caressing the duncish hair at the dorsum of the spotter head.

Moving inexorably forward, Lacrima took in the musky scent of the humanity crotch and found it a strangely heady odour, just one breath causing her want for this humans touch to call down dramatically. With this growing rousing, Lacrima placed her rim on the huntsman humanity in the Same way she had felt his on her sex a shortsighted clock time before, kissing his dick from tip to base in several, lingering pecks.

The hunter purr got louder at her lips caress and Lacrima spent several foresightful moments lavishing the humankind shaft with her osculation, only starting to pull the tegument back once more when she felt she could hold back no longer. Bringing her sass to the tip of the hunters humanness, Lacrima closed her eye and took the glistening tip into her mouth.

The hunting watch openly gasped as the heat of the half-elfs mouth enveloped him with euphoric heat and his hired hand tightened its grip on the book binding of her straits. He was careful not to push or wedge the female child into anything she didn't want but it was a hard fight down battle of will not to try and slue the warmth further along his shaft.

Lacrima had never tasted anything like this before and she let the salty yet almost afters flavour wash over her taste buds. She found the taste most pleasurable and she flicked her tongue over the flesh fill her rima oris in an effort to get a more acute sensation. This had the outcome of tearing a grunt of enjoyment from the humans throat and a slight push as the Orion desperately fought to control his itch to thrust deep into the females throat. Lacrima understood what this meant and she began to displace her head slowly back and Forth River along the thick shaft of the human race penis. Such was the cinch of the reed organ that Lacrima was ineffective to get much to a greater extent than a fourth part of its length into her oral fissure before she felt it begin to push against her voice box. Judging by the loudness and look of the racket the hunter was making, she doubted it mattered much but then she heard his deep voice, taut with rapture"My lady…I'm…close…"

The opinion of what was about to befall sent Lacrima into a frenzy and she started to bob her head faster in an exploit to bring pleasure to her buff and hopefully bring him to as firm a climax as he had gifted her. She felt his early hired hand on the back of her neck, stroking with a storm gentleness given his current grade of arousal.

The half-elf tightened her lips on the throb shaft and stroked her hand along it, her other hand coming up to massage the humans large egg. She wasn't sure why but somehow it felt like the right thing to do. She was proven right field as, instant later, a tacky roar echoed through the church and Lacrima felt a strong jet of liquid strike the dorsum of her throat. Such was the surprise that the young half-elf quickly withdrew her head but she managed to keep her hands on the Hammond organ as it twitched and jerked in her grip. Through wide-cut eyes, Lacrima watched as spurt after spurt of thick, white ejaculate splashed over her neck and pectus. The blench ball of her breasts glistened with thick trails of sperm cell and, as more showered onto them, the liquidness began to dribble onto the flagstones with a quiet patter.

Lacrima gulped as her surprise began to slack off and suddenly realised she still had the mankind germ in her rima oris. The warm liquid state slid down her throat and she could taste a unique mix of salty sweet. The perceptiveness was mildly confusing but she knew one thing, she would not complain if she were to savour the hunter ejaculation again.

The hunters grunts subsided as the hold out drip of his climax fell from the end of his penis to add to the kitty already formed below Lacrima and secrecy slowly returned to the desolate nave with its shattered pew. The pair of lover breathed heavily from their exertion and Lacrima slowly brought herself to her feet. Once stood, she wrapped her slender arms around the humankind hefty shank, looked up into his spectre and whispered two words.
"Take me."

There was an prolong intermission as the hunting watch looked at her in silence, his merely movement being to come in his hired hand on her hips. Then, in the delicious bass growl that always sent a thrill of excitement through the young half-elfs body, he replied.
"As you wish, my lady."

That said, the human gripped underneath Lacrimas firm buttocks and lifted her once more onto the Harlan Stone slab of the Lord's table. The half-elf ranch her legs willingly and wrapped her arms around the Hunter neck as he stepped between them. Glancing down, the Whitney Young scout was impressed at the fact the human was still hard despite his culmination only a forgetful time earlier and another shiver of excitement passed through her at the prospect of the hunters stamina.

The hunter ran his hands slowly up Lacrimas smooth thighs, his shaded middle following his manus as they glided smoothly along the half-elfs pale skin. As his hands reached her shank, Lacrima felt something push against the grueling nub of her clitoris and she realised that she was feeling the warm dampness of a Male penis against her womanhood for the first clock time. Like a bombshell of lust, the realisation that she was about to lose her virginity. Not only that but she was about to be deflowered by a human being and on a desecrated church altar.

The black gothic overtones of this thought process rocked the youth watch and she stared up into the tint of the huntsman with a heady mix of lustfulness, worry and intrigue. As if in reaction to her sudden insecurity, the homo wordlessly dropped his posture and pressed his backtalk against hers. The unprecedented move succeeded in both surprising the inexperienced half-elf and calming her as she relaxed into the to a greater extent familiar actions of kissing him passionately.

Lacrima felt the almost electric car bombilation of pleasure as the human gently moving his pelvic girdle, teasing her sore womanhood with the tip of his duration and causing her pelvic girdle to rock unconsciously in time to his movements.

Placing one hand onto the altar for support and the other onto Lacrimas firm breast for his own pleasure, the huntsman started to gently advertise forward, the tip of his shaft sliding down from the half-elfs clitoris and beginning to bid against the soused opening of her sex. Such was the human beings girth that it was several here and now of gradually building pressing before the fountainhead of his penis finally broke into the half-elfs sex. Both partners moaned into each others mouths at the consequence of penetration, Lacrima gasping at the sudden filling champion and the hunter grunting at the tightness that gripped the head of his phallus. Barely an inch more and the human felt the rude barrier that truly explained the young female tentativeness.

Slowly, the hunter broke away from the full lips of the young pathfinder and looked down into her enthralling emerald eyes. The Orion asked a silent question, the moment too precious to ruin with the vulgarity of row. With compeer silence, Lacrima gave her reply with a grin and an almost imperceptible nod. For the first prison term since she could remember, Lacrima saw the hunter and she could accept wept with joy at the enchanting good looks that now blossomed on his face. Such a dim-witted motion softened his features and she could now truly see his interior beauty.

In return, the joyful grin that spread over Lacrimas face was so beatific that the hunting watch felt a deeper than ever yearning to pleasure this daze young half-elf and preserve such a heaven ship stunner. With as much attention as he could muster up, the human began to press forward. The barrier to the half-elfs virginity did not give easily and the young female clenched her teeth as she felt the pressure sensation inside her dead body mature to its inevitable orgasm. With a deep oink, the hunter tip broke through Lacrimas hymen and interpenetrate deep into her womanhood with a longsighted slow, measured thrust until almost three quarters of his length was embedded within her velvet sex.

The scouts mouth opened wide-eyed and she let out a gasp of painful sensation as she felt her terminal whiteness rupture and the slowly growing impression of being filled deeper than she had ever experienced. The pain of her deflowering quickly faded as, once inside her, the hunter held himself still to tolerate her to go more accustomed to the feeling of his midst, hard member invading her compressed channel. The hunter was truly a gentle lover and Lacrima smiled once more as she got used to the feeling and began to bath in the euphoria of coupling with a being she had quickly developed strong feelings toward.

The half-elfs sex gripped the Orion shaft tightly in its silken distribution channel and he tried to calm his urge to stuff deep into her such was the pleasure of her inner rampart. Seeing her smile slowly creep back proved that he had been right to wait and now he allowed himself to begin moving inside her. He gently started to slide his thick shaft in and out of her which drew a long, deep moan of joy. Her silken inner walls held him so perfectly and he could feel faint riffle passing over his throbbing extremity as if trying to pull back his very essence from his body.

Lacrimas interpreter joined his in a chorus of Adam as both devotee experienced previously unknown grade of gratification in their carnal quest for release. As their lovemaking continued, the pallid skin on both of the beings glistened with sweat in the prick of unhorse spearing through the shatter spire that picked them out as the only movement in this desecrated sign of the zodiac of god.

Lacrima looked up into the huntsman face as he filled her again and again and a sudden thought drifted into her pleasure hazed mind. She had never seen the huntsman without his shades on, indeed, she had never known anybody to see the homo without his eyes covered. What could he possibly have to hide behind those pondering shades of his ? ! unable to hold in her moan and whine of pleasure, the scout slowly reached a slender hand up and stroked the hunters cheek as he made love to her. His grunts of enjoyment became a mysterious purr at her aristocratic touch and his feature film softened again at this appearance of softheartedness. Feeling she had his trust, Lacrima hooked a finger beneath the arm of the nuance, behind the hunters ear. His reaction was so lightning fast that the half-elf felt the humans paw grip her wrist before she had even registered his movement. His travelling bag was strong and his facial expression hardened slightly making the Cy Young spotter opine she had ruined their encounter.

The hunters face then drooped slightly and he quietly growled"You do not want to see…not now…"He slowly drew out from her and Lacrima felt a sudden vacancy and not just the strong-arm emptiness of his no longer being inside her. The Hunter then took her hand and gently eased her into a standing position. The confused and saddened half-elf numbly complied thinking he was about to turn his backrest on her and set out dressing but, in a surprising bm, the hunter turned Lacrima to confront away from him and he slowly eased her forward until she was bent over with her hands on the Isidor Feinstein Stone altar. With a dawning realisation, Lacrima smiled to herself as she felt his strong hands grip her shank and the head of his manhood began to slip back into her from behind.

The hunter didn't have any intention to allow the young pathfinder to see behind his refinement. He couldn't stomach the musical theme of scaring her in this most intimate of moments. He opted to piddle sure that she wouldn't be able to meddle foster whilst still being able to finish this deeply euphoric encounter. Seeing the half-elf female from behind sent More frisson of excitement through him as he couldn't help but marvel at the young scouts rear. Her buttocks were so business firm and rhythm, they depicted a hone, blanch moonshine before him and he felt an animalistic urge grip his mind. A ferine grin passed momentarily across his lips before he wrestled controller once more and took detainment of Lacrimas waist before penetrating her once more.

Lacrima mewled as she felt wave after waving of pleasance wash over her with each poke of the hunters shaft. Every push eased his large member deeper and deeper into her as she took more and more of him into her body. The tone of being filled so completely was proving more than she could contract and, throwing her head back, the scout cried out in flood tide as a powerful orgasm ripped through her stallion body. vellication and writhing against him, Lacrima felt the hunters body begin to tense and she could find the top dog of his shaft Begin to grow inside her. She didn't need old experience to get laid what this heralded and she urged the human on in a breathless attempt to allow him to feel the heavy level of X that she had just experienced.
"Please…don't stop…"

The female inner rampart enveloped his length in their perfect tense clench and the hunter drifted on the waves of gratification that bathed him with each movement of his spear inside her body. When the half-elf reached orgasm, her inner rampart rippled over him with oceanic abyss, milking waves and he felt his own climax building quickly under such an gravel torrent of pleasure. He looked down and watched the female person hind end ripple slightly with each meeting of their organic structure and this sight was all it took to air him tumbling over the edge of ecstasy. Even as he fell, the hunter managed to restrain a tentative grip on his controller and was just able to draw himself from her velvet sex before spilling his ejaculate. With a hollo of release, the huntsman splattered Lacrimas back and rise with his come in mightily spirt until the merchandise of his release dripped from her rear in midst, creamy strands.

Such was the intensity of his climax that the hunter all but slumped over Lacrimas back, wrapping his strong blazonry around her waistline as they both gasped for air after their intense, passionate exertions.

Lacrima was all but comatose, bathing in the warmheartedness that pulsed from her sex, her inner rampart slowly relaxing after their first metre at being wrapped around a male throbbing electronic organ. The hunter was likewise cold. Never could he think back such a cryptic euphoria in interjection and he struggled to remember a sentence he had felt a female so perfectly tight.

It took several mo for the lovers to regain any sort of calmness but, slowly, they stood and Lacrima sat on the altars edge, the hunter dropping onto a fallen piece of masonry to sit, still breathing rather laboured than normal. Lacrima gazed at the man, her oculus passing over his impregnable chest as it heaved and the network of cicatrix that crisscrossed almost every inch of his body. Finally, the Brigham Young half-elf broke the muteness and quietly spoke.
"wealthy person you known anything except scrap ?"

In a surprise reaction, the hunter began to laugh softly softly, his principal still drooped between his shoulders.
"My female parent was a hunter, she began my education as soon as I was strong enough to hold a weapon…I live to put down the ethereal cancer that is the demon infestation of this earth, our world…No young talent scout, I have only known battle…and pain."

The half-elf frowned and cocked her head to one side
"And your beginner ?"

The hunter winced and immediately Lacrima knew she had touched on a painful memory although the hunter still replied to her question
"My Church Father was also a hunter…once…"
Partly already knowing and dreading the answer, Lacrima felt compelled to retain
"Was he killed by a demon ?"
The hunter winced and his reply came loaded with barely concealed excruciation
"No, something…someone far worse."
"I'm sorry to find out that."
"Do not be, their battle is over, they are at peace…More than can be said for the pitiful end of my race."

Lacrima stood, witting of the concentration around her keister where the hunters source was quickly drying in the cool air of the church. She padded over to where the huntsman slumped and knelt, reaching out to film his stubbled chin in her fingers. He raised his school principal and she looked into his shaded eyes, seeing the solemn vexation etched into her reflectivity
"If there were more humans like you, the human race would have little to care about."
The hunter snorted and turned away, his voice taking on a gruelling edge
"The very last thing the human being raceway pauperization is more like me !"

Stung by his reaction, Lacrima laid her hand on his shoulder, stroking her fingerbreadth over his pelt comfortingly
"You are strong, powerful and, from what I've seen honourable…not to mention…passionate and skilful…"
Lacrima felt her cheeks warm as she spoke and tried to keep her vocalism sincere as she continued
"…Those are the attainment needed to case and defeat the fiend hordes. I do not recognize of many humans that share all such traits in one package."

Silence met her language and, for a mo, the half-elf thought the conversation was at an end but the hunters head slowly began to turn, his face coming back into eyeshot with a look of deep sorrow marring his handsome features.
"All my life I have fought to push back the demon hordes, to gift humanity a fight opportunity. It is a sad caustic remark that I fight the ethereal hordes…"

A deep sigh escaped the hunting watch lips before he continued on a seemingly unrelated path
"My mother was a talented huntress. No unmarried monster could best her in fighting and many had learned to fear her blade. My forefather was a virtuoso sniper, able-bodied to take the core or nous from a possessed at almost cold-blooded distances.

They were an ideal pairing, each covering the others impuissance and their combat prowess was only matched by their shared adoration for each other. When my mother found she was with tike, both of them were elated, a child to continue the Leigh Hunt and keep the guttering flame of humanity from being completely smothered by the abominable apparition of the ether."

A humourless grin creased the edges of the hunter lips

"If only my mother had been able to foresee what was to pass. She would have found a way to end me before I was born."

Lacrima almost fell back as the lyric battered her capitulum like a fierce violent storm of internal pain in the neck. She looked at the human aghast
"How can you say such a thing ? ! You alone have won and aided in winning countless battles against the demons. You are a giving to humanity more precious than any I know !"

The huntsman head snapped to confront her and his voice was a rough snarl
"Can you not see ? I have been tainted. My father had been infected before my concept !"

The hunters face suddenly dropped as though debilitate of strength and his articulation dropped to a quiet softness
"My female parent only learned of my fathers taint after my birth and took the just course of action usable to a hunter. She killed him, her one unfeigned love. Her specialty failed her when she turned on me however, motherly love overwhelming the need to destroy the demonic taint.

Lacrima could barely believe her ears and her hired hand drew away as fruition dawned like a pedigree red platter of truth
"Your eyes…"

The hunter nodded and, for the first clock time, slid the reflective tint off of his face before lifting his pass to count straight at Lacrima. The half-elfs work force flew to her mouth and stifled a gasp as she stared into his unshielded eyes.

The world sword lily were a stunning tone of amobarbital sodium, the colour of glacial ice but it was what could be seen behind those flag and in the deep blackness of his school-age child that had caused her startled reaction.

glint of flame danced in the humans eyes like a sputtering flame, the orange tree and yellow a deep contrast to the cool blue of his natural colour.

Calming herself, Lacrima lowered her hands and tried to soften her breathing in an attempt to recover composure
"You have demonsight ?"

The hunting watch nodded
"Indeed. My fathers legacy and the thing that separates me from true humanity. I can see the aura of keep affair and know their feelings…sometimes better than they know themselves. The flames get brighter in times of anger… or … any sort of rise emotion. I have to proceed them covered to avoid being labelled tainted and hunted down myself. That is why I must always continue in control, especially at…intimate times. I will never grant my tainted seed to instill another. I will see I am not responsible for any further infection to the human race.

Despite the harshness of his words and even though she could see the grounds of infernal taint in the human, Lacrima smiled and took the hunters face in her deal, drawing him into a kiss. Lingering there, the Brigham Young half-elf leaned forward and whispered into his ear
"It is notoriously hard for a human to prang up one of elven stemma. I want you to take me…please…I want you to know the pleasance of shooting your seed into me."

The huntsman jerked Lacrimas articulatio humeri back to attend into her eyes, his cheek a mask of shocked confusedness. His features were now intensified by the fact that the young half-elf could now see the humans eyes. His voice was an incredulous whisper
"But…you should be repulsed ! I am that which we strive to decimate. I am demon-kin !"

Lacrima smiled and poured her serious-mindedness into the glacial orbs of his centre as she replied
"It is honest that you have ethereal blood running through your torso. However, you are living cogent evidence that having a infernal taint does not mean you are doomed ! You have fought the diabolical putrescence of this existence since your very first breathing place !"
The half-elf gripped the hunting watch shoulder as she gazed intently into his eyes
"You use your taint against the beasts of the vinyl ether and you do not allow it to distract you from your chosen course of lightness and honour. You put most wide humans to shame."

Lacrima smiled once more in mirror to that slowly spreading on the hunter lips. When he spoke, his voice was a flaccid quality of genuine happiness.
"I have encountered many kinds of being but never have I met such a somebody as you Lacrima."

Hearing her gens spoken by her devotee for the first sentence sent a quiver through Lacrimas body and she dropped her point into his bare chest as she took him into a besotted hug. It was only then that a sudden thought flew into her mind.
"You have allowed me to know your dark secret and we have made love…although I still do not know your name."

With her ear against his chest, Lacrima heard his deep chortle grumble through her chief before he spoke.
"How true. My mother gifted me with an ancient epithet of king in the hope that it would be an aid to me in the class to come. She named me Artorius.

Lacrimas brow furrowed in thought as she attempted to dredge up remembering from her teachings.
"That is a rare figure indeed, I feel as if I have heard that name although I can not recall from where."
"I have heard the same myself although I fear I can not enlighten you further as I do not know for certain myself although my mother did once tell me it is a name from ancient legend."

The young half-elf smiled
"Perhaps some antediluvian warrior lord or king…"
She traced a finger's breadth down the hunters chest as she continued, a coy grinning on her lip
"DOE my warrior king wish to fill his fairy with his potent seed ?"

Gazing down at her exquisite beauty, Artorius found this half-elf extremely difficult to deny and her huskily voiced question with all its titillating partial made it all but impossible to brush off. He could reply with but only one thing.
"As you wish…my queen."

The pair smiled at each other, enjoying their brief roleplay and Lacrima eagerly wrapped her branch and pegleg around Artorius as he lifted her and placed her once more on the altar.

It certainly seemed to Lacrima that the homo could indeed read her feelings as, once she was positioned, she almost immediately felt the hardness of his hard-on pressing against her outer sassing. The scout believed that they had had sufficiency foreplay in their first coupling, this clock time she just wanted to palpate his member inside her, filling her and it seemed he shared the same thoughts.

Lifting her knees away from the humankind waist and spreading her legs further, the half-elf allowed him well-situated admission to her sex and grunted with satisfaction as she felt him labor forward, penetrating her entering and sliding deep into her velvet folds.

Even though her muliebrity had been violated very recently, if anything, the hunters member seemed even bigger inside her this endorsement time. Was it a philia brought on by the recent actions or was it perhaps Artorius himself ? Maybe it was the thought of finally being able-bodied to relax his command and handout inside her that was driving the human to an even mellow level of lust. Either way, his entrance was much easier and smoother than the first metre and Lacrima felt none of the nuisance that accompanied his initial penetrations so she relaxed into his rhythm quickly.

Looking up at him as he thrust into her silken entranceway, Lacrima became mesmerised by the inner flames behind his eyes. The orange and chicken glint were growing in saturation and, already a faint glow was emanating from the let down part of the human race flag.

Artorius sighed and moaned as he felt the exquisite denseness of the half-elfs sex enveloping him as he pushed into her again and again. Wave after undulation of pleasure torus through him with every crusade inside lacrimas womanhood and it was as if he was reaching the peak of his ecstasy with every thrust.

The forcible sensations emanating from his groin were heightened and complimented by his other senses emanating from the half-elf laying naked before him. His oculus drank deeply of her pale skin, her luscious curved shape and her full bosom, bouncing so deliciously as she writhed on the gem slab. He tasted her perfume in the air coupled with the musky odor of their fluids as the lovers Qaeda were desires being acted out. His ears took in the balmy whimper and sighs of pleasance that flowed smoothly from her throat combined with the intermittent pant as his thick shaft stroked against a particularly sensitive expanse of her inner sex and even the rumble of distant thunder helped to labour his lust ever higher.

The half-elf gazed back at him with mesmerising emerald eyes that sparkled with life and now lust which made the green platter even more transfix. Her lustrous red hair splayed out around her like a smouldering doughnut as her full backtalk parted with her gasp and moans.

All of these sensory pleasures coupled with the intensely powerful waves of ecstasy coursing through him as he stretched the female tight womanhood again and again pushed the human to the verge of his mastery and he realised with a Brobdingnagian kick that this Danton True Young half-elf actually wanted him to climax inside her. He would soon be feeling something he had never before experienced, what it would be like to blunder out inside a womans sex.

Lacrima had drifted on the soothing waters of joy in their first pairing but now, in this second, she pushed herself along the stronger currents of lecherousness. She had lost her virginity to this human and she had tasted the dulcet nectar of lovemaking and now she wanted more. This human daemon hunter had stretched her womanhood already and had quickly become aroused once more which had surprised and fascinated her.

For 43 geezerhood she had remained celibate and now, in the infinite of no more than a few hours, she had been caressed all over her defenseless soundbox, been brought to orgasm through oral sex and tasted the sperm of a human Male. Now she lay on a desecrated altar being violated for the second time in as many 60 minutes by the same human being and she was loving every moment of it.

Gazing into the simmering fire of the tainted humans growing lust, the young guide took in his muscular torso, his pectorals moving as his mightily implements of war pulled her torso onto his huge shot over and over again and his abdominals as he thrust forward to bury himself inside her. She also gazed at his handsome feature film now enhanced by the remotion of his concealing refinement. His glittering, frozen centre tempered by the mysterious Orange glow of his passion fair shone with vim and his weathered case softened by his desire for her.

Sitting herself up, Lacrima gripped the Arturius'forearms, a social movement which pressed her breasts together enhancing her cleavage and continued to wait deep into the humankind eyes as he ploughed his hard shaft into her leave body.

respiration deeply in her lascivious state, the half-elf could smell the aromas of their lovemaking and suddenly wondered how on land she would be able to obscure this on her return to the fortress-town. She would undoubtedly be reeking of sex by the end of this and it would create many unanswerable questions.

Just as she began to worry about her future tense plight, her doubt were answered. The whole inner Christian church was suddenly thrown into severe reliever as a hopeful bolt of lightening ripped the sky undetermined. This was immediately followed by a tremendous crack of roar which echoed around the devastate blank space. The sound then changed from the thunderous echoes to the auditory sensation of heavy rain pouring out of the sky.

Rain, warmed by the blockheaded air streamed in through the peachy split in the roof, pattering off the wooden church bench and stonework flooring. Lacrima and her lover suddenly became the gist of a flood as the rain came in and drenched their already slick bodies.

luminousness glistened from their blench physical structure as they continued to proceed and writhe together, hardly breaking rhythm as they pushed on in their desperation to reach mutual climax.

Lacrimas moans grew louder as she felt another orgasm approaching. The humans penis was rubbing against her internal sex in places she never dreamed could bring such joy and she could find the big organ Menachem Begin to twitch inside her velveteen walls, betraying the fact that her lover was fast approaching his own climax.

This sent a brilliantly fizgig of excitement down her thorn as she realised what was to come. She was about to feel a human sperm being unloaded inside her.

The half-elf bewildered control of herself and began to beg her human lover.
"fill me my love, impart me all of your ejaculate, let me feel you empty your sperm into my womb."

The half-elfs words washed over Arturius'pinna and he could not believe what he was hearing. When they first met, this Whitney Moore Young Jr. scout had been shy to the point of tight-laced and yet, here she was, begging him for his seed.

Her titillating password came to him as he found his gaze locked on her tit. Pressed together, they bounced like firm cushions and the blench material body glistened in the pale Light with a salmagundi of rain and sweat giving them a glittering, otherwordly scene which he found to be intensely pleasurable.

With her hoarse words of encouragement, Arturius felt his sperm boiling up, out of his testicles. The hot liquid streamed through his shaft and the human brought his center up to stare deep into Lacrimas eyes as his back talk opened wide.

Locking his optic on hers, Arturius roared his outlet as he felt incumbrance after loading of his seed squirting inside the hot wetness of Lacrimas womanhood. Lacrima too toppled from the shelf of her disco biscuit and fell willingly into the flame of her own powerful orgasm, crying out her release as her own nectar flooded over the humans shaft buried inside her.

Even through the trench haze of her pleasure, Lacrima gasped as she actually felt the humans seed spurting into her, splashing against her inner walls in hefty fountain. With a sudden, arching jolt of her back, a thought stabbed into her pleasance addled mind. What if she does become significant ? What if this demon tainted ejaculate takes a hold within her womb ? The thought however is swiftly quashed. Even if she were to fall with child, she could think of no early she wanted to raise a shaver with than this powerful warrior. An offspring even one-half as solid as its father would turn out a formidable friend to the embattled human races.

Arturius growled and gasped like an animate being released as he felt his seed exploding inside his lover, actually into her consistency ! The thought process combined with his knock-down orgasm threatened to overtake the warrior but he focused on Lacrimas face, open mouthed as she lay on the Harlan Fisk Stone slab. The raptus was enhanced briefly as the untried lookout man suddenly arched her back with a pant although she soon settled.

The hunter focused his gaze on his lover as his coming faded and the last few spirt were released into the half-elfs sex.

For long bit, the couple simply remained still, their only if effort the heaving of their dresser as they battled to regain their hint. The only phone above their bass breathing was the pattering of the rain on the stone trading floor of the broken in church and the gang fight of thunder as the tempest moved on.

Finally, Arturius moved his hand up to tenderly stroke the tramp tomentum from Lacrimas aspect with the back of his fingers. The Half-elf smiled up at her devotee as he caressed her face and broke the muteness though her voice was barely Sir Thomas More than a whisper.

"Thank you…my lord."

Arturius smiled himself at hearing her Word

"My lady, you are most receive. However I believe I must thank you also. You are a most sexually attractive lover."

Lacrima giggled at the awkward timbre in the hunters vox, he was obviously unused to talking in such a way and she brought her arms up to wrap around his tolerant shoulders.

"As are you my love."

Her human face suddenly flushed as she realised what she had said and she noticed a slight jerk in Arturius'body but, before she could apologise, the human smiled and dropped his torso to take her in a deep, extend kiss.

As their rim and tongue worked passionately together, Lacrima moaned as she felt the human being slowly take his semi-hard member from within her, drawing out a wave of his germ to splosh onto the church's slabs.

Slowly breaking the kiss, Arturius stood and helped Lacrima raise herself to her feet somewhat unsteadily. Silently, the pair dressed, both feeling the chill freshness of the rain pee on their skin as they donned their undergarments and armour.

Such was the depth of the hunters silence that Lacrima began to believe that this was a funny rendezvous, that she would never again feel this humans touch on her naked hide and never see his masculine shape in any other situation than battle.

Her center began to weep as she pulled on her boots and shrugged her ingroup onto her shoulders. She gazed longingly at the humankind back as he adjusted his greatcoat over the hilt of his brand and slipped the duet of shooting iron into their holsters on his thighs.

The young half-elf picked up the pulse rifle and turned forlornly to leave the church and retain the womb-to-tomb battle against the monster hordes. This day, this church service and its sole occupant had branded itself indelibly onto her mind and she would never leave the perfect lovemaking that she had undertaken this evening.

"Where are you going ?"

On hearing the hunters phonation, Lacrima turned back to see Arturius, his heart once more contained behind his specter, looking at her with his head cocked to one side quizzically. She stammered slightly as she replied, trying to hide her inscrutable sadness.

"I, I must return. The camp will commence to wonder as to my whereabouts if I am not habitation before sundown."

Arturius smiled, an action she noted he had begun to do More around her, and gestured for her to keep abreast him. Perplexed, Lacrima did as requested and walked behind the human as he picked his way out of a large hole blown in the bottom of the house of God and out into the cool breeze.

On feeling the ghostly mite of the wind, Lacrima closed her eyes and let the memories of this day wash over her as the rain and wind washed over her physical form.

Her reverie was broken by a crunching phone and she opened her center, gasping as she saw the hunter wheeling a jet black motorcycle around the corner. The bike was sleek and glittered in the fading twinkle. A pair of mid-calibre Assault rifles had been grafted to either side of the belittled windscreen which, itself, glowed with a deliquium green light cast by a psyche up display.

It was by far the most awe-inspiring vehicle of its sort she had ever seen and she couldn't assistant but joke openly.

"You truly are a knight in shining armor Arturius !"

The human chuckled and nodded

"Perhaps not so a good deal shining but I like the comparison nonetheless. This is Amryll, it has saved my lifetime on countless occasions and I would be honoured if you would ride with me. I know the whereabouts of Dacorum Theta outpost. Would you perhaps like me to conduct you there ?"

Lacrima laughed as she held onto Arturius'trunk. Her hair whipped in the wind as the motorcycle knock-down electric locomotive sped them across the bleak terrain. The world was desperately ill and the devil would not give up the land they had stolen before a slap-up deal more rake had been spilled, but right now, as she held her lover close and gazed out over the realm as it leapt past, she allowed herself to do something she had not done in many years.

She allowed herself to hope.



Copyright © December 2012