hunting watch & PREY

Lacrima picked her way through the debris and rubble of the busted town. Barely a few months before, this had been a bustling stronghold, a last outpost of the dwindling homo race. Now it lay decimated, clear to the raw skies like an eviscerate corpse.
The half-elf scouted the area alone, checking for signs of life or, more importantly, sign of infernal infestation. Her sharp eyes scanned the ruins of each building intently, the deep jet of her iris diaphragm glittering in the pass light like emeralds on an ornate steel hilt.

She wore the standard outcome slate grayness jumpsuit and Negroid body armour that designated her as a soldier in the Terran rising corps. Being a scout, Lacrima carried a more compact reading pulse rifle and the jumpsuit was a tight fit to let almost silent movement. The thick grey material clung to her slim, lithe consistency, rippling as her powerful leg muscles propelled her through the terrain like a prowling feline on the hunt for target.

Lacrima moved stealthily, her long years of grooming and fight experience making her movements fluid, almost feline. Her slender build stalked the shadows, a wraith in search of prey on a desolate landscape painting. A light breeze ghosted through the empty streets like the last, racking breath of a dying man and it stirred the deep auburn hair that hung in loose curls down Lacrimas back in a recollective ponytail that reached midway down her shoulders.

Her patrol took her toward the heart and soul of what remained of the town and the church at its fondness. The ancient body structure that once cut an imposing silhouette now lay broken. The steeple that had once stood proud in its benevolence and glory to the heavens had been destroyed completely. All that remained were snapped raftman jutting toward the sphere like the dried, break away ribs of the town's chest.

Lacrima approached the once swell principal entrance to the Christian church, gaping wide open like a cryptical wound. Its doors had been ripped from their flexible joint and used as woodwind to burn the few that had survived the demon onrush in a pyre to their fell lord. Lacrimas nose wrinkled as an offensive odor reached her anterior naris and she was sure she could still smell the burning flesh of those unfortunate person as she entered the threshold of the church service, the fetor forever tainting the very air that twisted and eddied in the lite breeze.

The Young half-elf darted into the once sanctum place and began her search of the desolate inside space when she froze suddenly. Her sharp eyes had spotted movement and she knelt silently behind the splintered corpse of a pew to notice the scene before her with a sense of wonderment.

The one known as the Hunter was knelt beside the church building altar. He was knelt in a pool of light that was cast through the shattered remains of a large stained methamphetamine hydrochloride windowpane. The human had stripped his signature leather greatcoat and dim consistency armour to expose his upper torso. The warriors skin was pale, a mutual sign of those that lived under the burned sky that now hung over the worlds diseased landscape and his dead body was coated in a thin lustre of sweat that glittered in the vaguely fragmentize ray of visible light. Lacrimas skin flavour was near to that of her Elven kin making it paler still than even this hunter and this emphasised the freckle on her nose and pep pill cheeks and the young half-elf felt the warmness of a faint blush which she knew would only make them put up out even more. The hunting watch had his good arm rested on a broken footstall beside the altar and he appeared to be sewing a deep gash that ran most the length of his pep pill arm.

The humanity muscles flexed and bulged with pain in the neck as the needle pierced his physical body and, although the scene before her was gruesome, Lacrima could not serve but come up a certain pleasure from seeing this half naked human.

At 43 yr old, Lacrima was considered a youthful adult within her race, the equivalent of a human being girl just out of her teens. This combined with the virtually constant training and battle meant that Lacrima had never had time to reckon practically about Male and she had never touched a males physical structure except for when she was sparring or treating injury. Now, crouched silently in her hiding place, she marvelled at the masculine specimen before her. The humans body was in amazing physical status, his rippling belly and orotund arm musculus sending unfamiliar shivers of pleasure through the half-elf's slender consistency.

Despite her combat senses screaming in protestation, the Young soldier felt compelled to act closer and, breaking cover at a crouch, she silently, crept closer to the hunter as a moth would draw close to a brightly flame. She could not explain her excitement or the want to near but somehow, she just wanted to be closer to him and to gaze upon his from with better detail.

As she drew closer, Lacrima could see the warriors drift in punter item and stifled a grinning as she realised he was evidently not a trained medical officer. The Hunter stitches were neat and blind drunk but he was moving at a slow and deliberate gait as one with knowledge but petty experience would do. He had obviously read or seen how to perform field 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 instruction of stealing and accidently kicked a small piece of fallen masonry, sending it skittering across the marbled floor. The hunting watch's reaction was immediate and lightning fast. fighting reflexes that had been honed over countless battles snapped his deal down to the dear weapon, a side arm that had lay out of Lacrima's slew, behind the rock on which he had rested his injured arm and brought the sidearm up to show at the generator of the auditory sensation."Show yourself."This was the first prison term Lacrima had ever heard the human speak and she was taken aback as to how deep and evocative it was, echoing around the desolate church service in commanding, freshwater bass waves.

The half-elf intruder did not actuate from her billet hidden behind a work bench, frozen like a scared coney in a set of intense, masculine headlight. She gulped hard, somehow knowing the fiend Hunter'weapon was aimed directly at her. The hunter's voice sounded once Thomas More, this metre dropping to a dangerously quiet level that nevertheless carried a telling feel of maliciousness."I know you skulk in the shadows, now step 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 slender movement, Lacrima stepped out from her crouched position behind a shatter pew and stood, head bowed slightly like a schoolhouse nipper caught by a tutor. prospicient import passed as the hunting watch 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 nudity passed like a shudder down her spine. It was as if the human was looking through her, seeing past her strong-arm form to meditate her inner being. This highly uncomfortable feeling was only accented by the plenty of the pistol 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 stair from the communion table dais, onto the dirty marble of the churches main flooring. His movements were slow but fluid, resembling a piranha approaching its quarry. Despite the obvious danger to her someone, Lacrima could not help oneself but find his build. The man was easily close to six feet tall and she was drawn to the way the directional light from the broken windowpane shimmered from his picket skin and threw the musculature of his eubstance into an ever changing landscape painting of light and phantasma. The shooting iron never once strayed from Lacrima, lawful validation of this hunters warlike prowess.

The Hunter approached Lacrima in secretiveness and the half-elf felt ineffectual to move or speak, somehow held in a enchantment by this man. All she could do was digest and await her portion, her emerald centre watching the now dim light reflect from his nude upper body which seemed to accent his already impressive musculature, and wonder why she felt such conflicting emotions of fear and another, more confusing feeling…was it desire ? !

The hunter came to a hitch a score of paces from the half-elf and slowly lowered the weapon although Lacrima noted that he kept a pew between them to continue her from approaching him at fastness. Once before her, he spoke once again, this clock time without the dangerous malice but a note of chariness still rang through its deep tones.
"I have seen no activity in this place for various twenty-four hour period now."

As he approached this trespasser, the huntsman appraised the potentiality threat. It was certainly man or of a android backwash. It wore the uniform of a rebel scout and was female judging by the way the armour had been shaped around the chest area.
As he got closer, he could shit out more details and he began to think this was no assaulter. The being stood before him was a half-elf, one of the new races that had emerged after the initial fiend invasion of Terra. This specimen was around average height for one of her backwash, around 5'6"and slender. Her hair was a assume spectre of red, pulled back in a miserly ponytail although a few stray fibril framed her almost ghostly pale face. With a slight heyday of realisation, the human came to observe that this accentuated the females already considerable dish.

Most half-elves took on the graceful, penetrating features of their elven parent but this one had lots softer facial feature film. The almost translucent pale skin of her slender case had a healthy, porcelain smoothness and was broken only by a set of freckle that ran across her cheeks and small-scale, button nose. Her manoeuver pinna and wide, blanch brim gave her an exotic, alluring facet, greatly accented by her slanted green eyes and it was into these emerald eyeball that the Hunter found himself gazing. The females middle glittered with an energy and intelligence activity that he had rarely encountered and the human being felt long repressed feelings stirring oceanic abyss within his mind.

Lacrima saw vague discombobulation flickering over the humans face in his eyebrows and sassing and she wondered what must be going on in the huntsman mind. So preoccupied was she with this turn of events coupled with her own disconnected emotions that she almost jumped out of her skin when the warrior rung again.
"What brings you to this area soldier ?"

The Hunter phonation still carried an almost ingrained air of sanction but the pathfinder could detect a warming of his spirit and she attempted to shroud her fright by throwing a veil of assurance over her fluster state. Squaring her shoulders, she stood before the human, and fixed him with what she hoped was a nonchalant glare.
"The Same could be asked of you sir."
Her affirmation met secrecy and the Young scout decided to stay
"A identification number of scouts have been sent from outpost Dacorum Theta to valuate if this area is safety for rehabilitation. The demon appear to throw slaked their hunger for blood here and moved on."

The hunter nodded slightly but said nothing and Lacrima was left with the uneasy gumption that he was analysing everything she said, searching for any falsehoods. Silence ensued as the two seemed to measure each former. In the heavily quiet, Lacrima found her gaze meandering over the muscular torso of the Orion and she felt very strange inspiration within her, it certainly felt like desire but why ? She had only ever seen this human being from a distance and never spoken to him so why should she finger anything but curiosity for this lone demon stalker.

As she tried to force her path of cerebration onto a different cut, her unripened eyes settled on his hurt arm. The Half-Elf had heard many a rumour about this human, he was a loner and little was truly known of his screen background or intentions. All that was really known was his ability and desire to destroy demons wherever he encountered them. This is my probability perhaps, Lacrima thought to herself. Perhaps I could find out more than about this human and cook a theme back to the council. The rebellion council were extremely interested as to how one man could survive so long in the Wilderness and cursed champaign. Any data she could gleam from him could prove vital for future plans.

After taking a few, calming breaths, the half-elf softened her typeface slightly, taking on what she hoped was a convincing mask of a interested human face. Lacrima then adopted a quieter, friendlier whole tone as she addressed the hunting watch once more.
"Your lesion looks deep, would you like to see one of our healers ? It is not a swell aloofness to Dacorum…"
There was a import falter as, suddenly, an picture flashed into her idea eye of her belittled custody stroking the au naturel skin of the brawny humans arm her pale handwriting on the smooth, warm build as it glittered in a syndicate of luminance. She could almost feel the firmness of his brawn on her fingertips. The heady kick of blood to her brass caught Lacrima off guard and it took effort not to gasp with surprise. Quickly trying to re-centre her thoughts, Lacrima managed to remain unsteadily.
"..Or…perhaps…allow me to help you ?"

An awkward silence followed with the hunter remaining atmospheric static as if he hadn't even heard the young watch'words. The pause allowed Lacrimas mind to run riot with figure of speech of her touching this picket, muscular limb. Her skin tingled as her judgment tried to reanimate what this warriors consistency would palpate like to her delicate signature and this sent an intense flood tide of emotions through the young half-elf forcing her to take out on her inner forte in a desperate attempt to not stagger back from the mental attack. Such was the loudness of the images, Lacrima found herself panting faintly and, with a sudden knife thrust of realisation, she knew she was blushing deeply.

Dim light that filtered through the ruined windows and open air roof, catching the reflective surfaces of the hunters shadowiness. The human being stood before the lookout like a statue of antediluvian times. I marble carven warrior Martin Luther King, stripped to the waist and battle scarred. The poetic imaging did nothing to facilitate Lacrimas flustered country and, when the Hunter finally did speak, even his quiet tone caused her to jump in surprisal at the sudden shattering of silence.
"No, no healers."
Another short suspension and this meter, the shock had sharpened the young picket grass and she could detect a feint note of confusion on the hunters stoic features. Was he thinking similar view of her ? ! His head flicked to see down at his wound and he brought his arm up to allow tightlipped inspection.

Lacrima was transfixed by the apparent movement. Rarely had she seen such a beautifully masculine limb. Whilst being well muscled, it was not over-built and unsightly. Each musculus moved and bunched with liquid dominance as the hunter flexed them, testing the depth of the wound and even the wince of pain sensation as he moved damaged tissue wasn't enough to halt the half-elf's reverie.

After a few moment, the hunter came to a conclusion and lowered his arm, fixing the Whitney Moore Young Jr. female person in his gaze once more and Lacrima hoped she didn't spirit as flustered as she felt. The hunter rung and, for the first time since their coming together several minutes before, she detected a note of benignity in his voice. It was very feint but it was there nonetheless.
"It may leaven utilitarian if you could aid me. You are trained in field medicine ?"

Lacrima nodded dumbly, unable to take form lyric and hoped it would be enough. After a foresightful moment, the hunter nodded in return, a slow, short movement and turned away from her, heading toward the dais steps.
Taking this as a silent invitation to follow, Lacrima fell in behind. As she walked, Lacrima allowed her gaze to roam a little more freely over the world back now she didn't feel like her every cerebration 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 backrest. She watched the belittled muscle around his spine sliding back and Forth with his gait and the boastfully, telling muscleman of his shoulder as his arms swayed at his sides. The talent scout looked over his figure and felt a warmth in the base of her stomach as her eyes took in his lose weight shank and broad shoulder joint. This truly was an excellent specimen of masculinity. The lone thing marring the paradigm was the state of the human's hide. His rear was a lattice of cicatrice, virtually healed but a few stood out an angry red probable making them unfermented and Lacrima found herself building a new degree of respect and wonderment for this lone warrior. She would get to ask for Thomas More about these wounds when the meter rise.

Mounting the footstep to the altar plinth, the hunter led the half-elf to the position she had first encountered him beside the cracking, stone slab. There she found the humankind armour and equipment laid out in almost perfectly directly lines, not a individual item out of plaza. The young spotter stifled a giggle on seeing such tidiness. She had no idea a warrior of such height and obvious skill also lived a life sentence burdened with Oppressive Compulsive disorder !

"Something amuses you ?"
Startled, Lacrima snapped her headspring up and realised with a head start that she was once more in the homo shaded gaze. She had had no idea she had been smiling outwardly and took on a sheepish expression.
"My apology sir, I meant no umbrage. It is just not often I encounter a male with such…order."
A pause ensued and the youth scouts heart dropped as she feared she had annoyed the hunting watch and blown any probability for cognition. Then, something completely unexpected happened which made her ticker sing. For the offset metre since their meeting, the Orion smiled. It was a brief curling of the lips accompanied by a quick exhalation resembling a snort of entertainment but it was enough to add a beaming smiling the female person's mouth.
"Indeed my lady. My mother taught me well to organise myself in all matter. An organised nous is a powerful weapon in battle she used to tell me."
The smiling dropped from Lacrimas expression at the warrior's use of by tense
"Your mother…she is ..."
"Dead. Yes."

Those Good Book 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 phonograph needle was still embedded in his flesh where he had been stitching before her interruption.
The decisiveness of his movements gave evidence that his mothers expiry was a sore field which was understandable. nobody could take such an event without big sadness but there was something about the rigour of his number and the looking that flashed across his face before doing so that made the scout think that there was more to it than natural causes. She would perhaps initiate the subject when she had gained to a greater extent of his trust.

Silently, the half-elf slipped into a crouch beside the hunters hurt arm, taking it in her hands and gently cradling it while she took a closer review of the wound. Before she even touched him, Lacrimas head was getting fuzzy. The initiatory thing that she took in was his scent which was unlike any male before. nearly of the men she knew were soldiers in the maverick corporation and they smelled of exertion and crap. This homo had a sealed muskiness to his scent but he didn't odor impure, the aroma was also cut through with a fresh, almost floral scent that sent the young half-elf almost dizzy as she thought that this was how all true men should smell.

On taking his arm, Lacrimas gloved custody felt the firmness of his sinew before the soothing heat energy of his body penetrated through, heightening what the scout now realised was her arousal. Again, confusion rose in her mind as she tried to sound how she could be having feelings like this, everything was wrong. These were belief that she had never experienced before, this was a man she had never met until today, in a spot that had, barely a few weeks before been a charnel house of blood and decimation. In an attempt to have her head off her tingling low-toned regions, Lacrima focused on the warriors injury.

A deep laceration ran down a good length of the Orion upper arm, almost perfectly slicing between his bicep and brachialis muscleman. The tear was ragged which made it unlikely that it was a leaf blade or piercing physical object that had done the legal injury and even through the warmth of her aroused state, a shudder ran down Lacrima's spine at the astuteness of the rip and she knew this must be causing a huge amount of pain to the human despite his externally equanimity United States Department of State. She looked up quizzically
"How did this bechance ? It is a truly awful wound."
The hunter uttered a 1 give-and-take that made the new female bite her lower lip with care and worry
"Daxzkepyl."
The Logos repeated in Lacrima's mind, Daxzkepyl, an officer in the demonic regular army. This type of officer was a direful uniting of man and crustacean, his main weapon system being a immense, armour plated hook that resembled that of a lobster or crab. To guide down one of these odium was difficult for a 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 damned spawn died hard and not before causing me this."
The hunter gestured angrily at the exposed wound as if such a fauna didn't deserve to be able to cause one such as him pain. Lacrima wondered at this warrior's warlike art and made a vow to herself to try and learn as lots as potential about the battle. It would likely contain a wealth of tips on how to take on the demons.

Examining the rip flesh finisher, Lacrima made sure the lesion was clean-living and then checked the hunting watch's stitching.
"stitching up a wound like this is difficult, especially if you're trying to do it alone."
Dropping his arm gently, Lacrima removed her gloves to enable her to treat him properly and looked over his medical supplying, nodding slowly as she ran through the procedures out loud.
"Your med kit is well stocked sir. By the looks of it you have started well, injecting the blood-flow inhibiter to slow bleeding and, judging by the torn packaging, you have well sanitised the area."
Trying to buoy up the climate and thought process he had begun to relax, Lacrima grinned
"You'll not make a seamstress I'm afraid judging by the quality of your stitching though."
This comment was rewarded with a grunt of merriment and a smile that completely changed the Hunter's case. Lacrima was momentarily taken aback as to how his usually stern features changed so completely into a effeminacy that melted her mettle. This was a man that had known felicity once and that made it all the defective that one such as him had to eek out an macrocosm in such a forsake environment.

Smiling herself, Lacrima took up the Orion's arm once more, relishing the pelt to skin inter-group communication and gently lay it on her knee so she could begin stitching properly. As gently as she could, the lookout started to sew up the deep tear. Her training did her proud and the unseasoned Scout deftly placed little stitches over the injury, drawing the two half 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 stupor as actualisation dawned.
"You haven't used any anaesthetic ? !"
The hunter shook his head but gestured for her to persist in, only speaking after she had almost finished.
"Feeling pain is no problem to me. Helps me know I am still human."
Lacrima laughed incredulously
"Now what is that supposed to signify ?"
"When you have seen the twisted agony of a have humans face as his torso is re-structured from the inside, you quickly find out to prize that life isn't all bad. Pain keep me sharp."
Lacrima shook her read/write head with a smirk
"I do not empathise your system of logic sir for I have not seen such a affair and have no bid to. I for one will not stay until the very thin fiendish contamination is cleansed from our earth."
"Oh really ?"
The spirit of the huntsman's spokesperson caused Lacrima to expect up from her work and she saw an odd expression drift over his face like a passing play snap of ill depicted object. This concerned her and she decided to adjure further, hoping she wasn't overstepping the mark.
"Is that not what you wish for ? A world free of these abominations ?"
After a minute, the hunter began to nod slowly
"Indeed, freeing this world of the hell spawn is of bang-up importance to me. As to removing the merest taint…I think that will evidence harder than you think young scout."
The half-elf looked up and tried to peer deeply into the fill in eyes of the human
"Please, call me Lacrima."
"Lacrima, that is a pleasant name…for a pleasant girl."
The words caused the half-elf to broadcast openly as she tied up the final exam stitch.
"Why, good sir, I do believe you are flirting with me."
Suddenly, the hunter snatched his arm away from Lacrimas lap, turning his back on her.
"You are mistaken Danton True Young scout. You would do well to keep your distance from me. the great unwashed that get too close have a use of dying."
Lacrima controlled her shocked surprise and reached out to lay a comforting paw on the hunter's shoulder. She wanted to keep him close, for both military and suddenly personal reasons.
"I am not afraid of danger my lord, I only wish to teach from you. Your knowledge…"
"My noesis is worth cipher to you dead. Besides, you would not wish to recognize me !"
The military group of the hunter's tone shocked Lacrima and she felt a stab of hurt pride at his premiss but she attempted to retain a console level to her voice
"I am well trained and have combat experience, I can cover myself well. And I would very much like to know you punter my lord."

Lacrima stopped suddenly. She had had no design of uttering those word of honor and she felt suddenly bashful at her outburst. She could feel the Orion's breathing deepen in the movements of his shoulder joint underneath her hand and a sudden undulation 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 keep him close, to find him.
"I do not arrogate to know anything of your background or lifestyle my master but I would dearly wish well for you to evidence me of it."
As she spoke, Lacrima realised her hand had begun to unconsciously knead the warrior's shoulder joint. She also noticed he had not complained so she decided to continue.

The half-elf's lowly hands moved delicately over the hunter's articulatio humeri, squeezing the bunched muscles and straightening them with conciliate squeezes of her fingers. The move over the warm, firm flesh brought a new wave of arousal to the young female and she felt the area between her legs begin to tingle. Was this what desire really felt like ? The massage was evidently having an gist on the hunter also as he shifted his weight to shit himself more prosperous. Taking the opportunity, Lacrima slid forward on her knees so she could be skinny to this masculine human.

press her armoured eubstance to his back, the half-elf Drew a deep breath, taking in the fragrance of the hunter and noting the pernicious change in his aroma. The musk she had smelled before was more prominent and it was now overlaid with a cardsharp scent. Was he becoming aroused also ?

The thought drew pictures of a wholly more sleazy nature in Lacrimas minds eye and she felt the heat in her face intensify. Also, the prickling in her loins had given way to a wetness that she now felt between her branch. Her head raced ‘ Oh Jehovah, I want him…but I have never been with a male, let alone a human. What would he make of me if I did not please him ?'

The untested Lacrimas head swum with opening and lust began to glut her creative thinker like a foresighted held back tide. Shifting herself up, straightening her kneeling ramification, Lacrima raised herself so she could see over his berm, the whole time her mitt servicing his now relaxing articulatio humeri. A small-scale purr drifted from the cover of the Orion's throat which Lacrima felt through the physique of his shoulders and this spurred her on to risk a forbidden glimpse. Craning her neck slightly, Lacrima peered over the hunter's shoulder, hoping he wouldn't observe what she was doing and focused her regard on the human's crotch. The batch that beheld her caused her jaw to drop.

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

It had been a long time since he had felt female hands on his shape and it was likely he had never felt such a dextrous sense of touch. This half-elf was not only a skilled scout - for what early reasonableness would the rebellion allow her to go out alone - but she had a trace that was both ticklish and yet, somehow firm.

Her humble mitt caressed the knotted muscular structure of his shoulders with almost inerrable truth, seeking out and straightening the muscles bunched and taught from tenacious month of fighting.

Such was the warmheartedness and feel of her trace that the warrior felt a subtle warmth spreading in his pubes that he had long dismissed as obsolete. Just then, he felt the cool pressure of her armored breasts against his back as the new female pressed her body closer to his. This inter-group communication, combined with the soft, ghosting menses of her warm breath against his ripe berm sent undulation of pleasure straight to his inguen and he felt foresighted forgotten needs stirring recondite within.

He heard a easy pant from his right and angled his psyche slightly to glance over at the female person'pretty face. The half-elf was biting her lip, a look that only served to raise her already considerable beauty and the hunter felt his soundbox flush with heat as his lust for this young female began to blossom.

At that point, Lacrima felt eyes upon her and turned her drumhead to look into the hunters'shaded regard. The two held that look for several moments, held still in the aeonian space-time of blossoming desire.

As one, the headland of the man and half-elf began a behind, inexorable movement toward each others. Their sassing parted slightly as they neared until, with a delicate mental retardation, the two pairs finally met for a legal brief moment before parting again.

The hunter's shades hid his optic but Lacrima could feel the raw lecherousness emanating from him as her emerald gaze drank in his strong characteristic and stubbled jaw. She knew good wellspring that his lewd intention were only matched by her own and she looked into the lenses with a blazing desire. The pair held each others gaze a short clip longer, each waiting for the others unspoken approval to continue. Then, silently, their back talk met once more than and remained in contact.

Lacrima's eyes fluttered closed as her lips pressed against his, the sensation of kissing this human a drug of such strength that she felt her head begin to spin as, with unconscious movements, she moved her lips against his in a long, passionate buss.

Liquid warmth flowed through him, filling his body with the flame of desire as he parted his lip against hers and allowed his tongue to gently caress the firmness of her backtalk. The flames roared into a new level on feeling her lips division enough to allow her spit to proceed against his, gently stroking it with an intoxicating heart.

His manus drifted up to gently caress Lacrimas veracious impertinence, stroking it tenderly with his thumb as they continued their deep kiss. Feeling the docile ghost, Lacrima allowed her manus to travel down his chest, her fingertips tracing delicate parentage down his pectorals to his well-formed abdomen.

The fondness of her fingers on his skin sent shudder of arousal through his body and the hunter's breathing quickened as his passionate kiss with the half-elf continued. Feeling her touch slither down his chest and onto his stomach, he was overcome by a wave of lecherousness and gripped Lacrima's wrist. The scouts oculus flew candid at the sudden feeling but they soon fluttered closed once Thomas More, this time with prediction as she felt him guiding her manus lower, toward the target of her Recent epoch desire.

Lacrima allowed her psyche eye to picture the swell and bowl of the warrior's abdominal muscle as her pale script was slip down his firm dead body. Her ventilation quickened as her fingerbreadth touched over the girdle and belt, her lips pressing deeper into his as she settled herself lower to enable her to achieve his lower torso. Her breathing place then caught in her throat as she touched it.

Her fingertips stroked over a hard, boneheaded bulge that pressed against the leather of his trouser and the young half-elf moaned into the human's oral fissure with a satisfied purr. Pressing her palm tree against the gibbousness, Lacrima started to slither her hand up and down the thick cock slowly, taking in the breaking ball and unbending hardness of the pipe organ as she pleasured it.

The Hunter moaned in reply to her movement and the young scout allowed herself a slight smile as the pair held their lips locked together in a warmth that only those that had abstained for years could fully appreciate.

The hunter's finger's breadth that had, up until now been caressing Lacrima's impertinence now began a call for down the incline of her throat where the warmness of his skin and the delicate cutaneous senses of his finger's breadth made her pale cutis frisson with delight.

His hand continued, across her articulatio humeri and down her arm, finally slipping underneath her cubital joint and coming to remain over the uppermost clasp of her body armor. The thought process that the man was about to begin stripping her sent a thrill through the half elf's body and her moans deepened into the Hunter's mouth.

With a muffled snap, the clasp came undone. This was followed soon after by the others and Lacrima felt the weight fault as her torso armour hung beneath her stoop torso. With a longing flicker of her tongue, Lacrima broke the pairs kiss and slipped the armour over her promontory to reveal the slate Zane Grey jumpsuit she wore beneath.

Turning back from dropping her armor, Lacrima found the hunter on his invertebrate foot. Once more than the young half-elf found herself marvelling at how the light from the shattered roof glistened from his pale skin giving him an almost aerial quality as his potent limb reached out for her. Lacrima felt herself moving without witting feat and she all but fell into his substantial embracing. Throwing her drumhead back, the sentinel thrust her brim up to run into his once more and her arms wrapped around his business firm waist in a passionate embrace.

The huntsman wrapped his weaponry around the half-elf's slender consistency and released himself to her passion. He could smell her more clearly now the armour was removed and he enjoyed the way each of his senses was caressed by her fresh aroma, her firm, slenderize consistency in his subdivision and the audio of her body moving as it was pressed to his along with the barely hearable groan emanating from her throat.

bringing one hand around, the hunter cupped one of the half-elf's breast, caressing it gently and delicately teasing the hard nub of her nipple with one of his digit. The female's white meat were very firm and pert with the nipples pushing against the fabric of her jumpsuit as if trying to snap off free of their material prison.

Slipping his bridge player further up her body, the hunting watch briefly caressed Lacrima's chin up before moving to the zip at her neck, sliding it down and revealing her pale skin to his gaze for the number 1 time.

The fabric of the jumpsuit parted slightly as the zip continued on its journey downwards and the Orion 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 waist, the hunter could baulk no more and dipped his heading, placing a series of kisses between her tit. Gasping with delight, Lacrima rested her work force on the dorsum of his pass, bathing in the feeling of another's sass and glossa caressing the medium skin of her breasts for the 1st time.

Feeling the firmness of her full breasts against his lips, the hunter wrapped his blazon around Lacrima's shank, holding her close as he lavished the segmentation of her breast with his kisses.

Desperate for more than, the half-elf shrugged the jumpsuit from her berm and allowed the top to fall down away to pay heed below her waistline. The slate grayness material parted like softly moving pall to reveal the late valley of her breasts and the tranquil, flap horizon of her torso to the hungry eyes of the hunter. Lifting his head teacher back slightly, his gaze drank in the delicious curves of her body and the swell of her firm breasts. The dark garden pink of her areolas stood in contrast to the pale white of her skin and her nipples protruded from the tips of her breasts as if beckoning the man to them.

Obeying the lustful call, the hunter dipped his brain once more. This fourth dimension, his rim wrapped gently around one of Lacrima's nipples. His brim enveloped the dark ring of color and drew the nipple into his mouth. This produced a shuddering gasp from the half-elf as the electricity of his suckling transmitted into rippling wave of pleasure that travelled to every recession of her body. Hearing her inhalation and feeling her trunk shivering at his succour, the hunter gently flicked his clapper over the tip of Lacrima's tit whilst it was trapped in the heat of his sass causing her shuddering to increase and a swoon mewling of exaltation to escape from the scouts'throat.

Suckling gently, the huntsman raised a manus and ran his fingers through the flaming red braid of Lacrimas'hair. The fogginess of her hair combined with the smoothness of her peel brought mysterious growls of delight from the Orion that vibrated through Lacrimas'tit and caused the nub to temper further, sending electric pulse rate of foreplay to track through the half-elfs'dead body.

Never had Lacrima felt such touch as those that now coursed through her body. Her head rolling back, Lacrima grasped the hunting watch head in both hands, cupping his stubbled nerve gently and lifted him so his brim were almost touching hers. Still holding his straits, Lacrima brushed her back talk over his, ghosting her soft figure across his slowly before pressing her face forward, taking him into a deep candy kiss with a faint murmur.

The hunter felt Lacrimas'hips pressing against his, the rhythmic movements of her grinding gently against him coupled with the smell and warmness of her body against his sending shiver up and down his spikelet. With one hand slipping around between them, the human slowly unzipped the jump suit completely and slid the material over her hips, letting it drop to the floor with a soft rustle.

Sliding the backs of his fingerbreadth along the smooth, easygoing skin of the half-elfs'trunk, the hunter cupped his hands under her buttocks. This drew forth a purr of enjoyment from both hunter and scout as Lacrima felt his jot on the thinly obliterate marrow of her stern and the huntsman felt the business firm plumpness that seemed to fit the cup of his hands as if sculpted for them. Gently, with a fan touch, the hunter started squeezing and caressing this sodding derriere whilst allowing the tip of his tongue to glide against hers in an elegant dance of passion.

Lacrima drifted on a gently undulating sea of delight as she felt her body caressed in ways she had never experienced and only rarely imagined. How this hunter was able to be so gentle amazed her as his reputation for merciless kill of his enemy was well known. Yet here, in this decimated Christian church, he held her as a collector would cradle his finest treasure and caressed her peel with such delicacy it was little more than the rustling of a lovers breath washing over her.

The half-elf was snatched from her castle in Spain as the hunting watch hired hand tightened on her bottom and she felt herself being lifted off the stone-paved trading floor. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around the human being and, in doing so, felt the bulge of his hard-on press against the melt off fabric of her panties and rub across the sensitive lips of her muliebrity. This was a hotshot like no other she had, up until this here and now experience and she gasped, open-mouthed on feeling the wave of pleasure that washed quickly over her.

turn slightly, the hunter took a few footfall and lowered the talent scout slightly before she felt the inhuman bite of I. F. Stone on her upper berth thighs. With a gasp of surprise at the sudden esthesis, Lacrima realised that she was sitting on the sharpness of the altar. Keeping her strong legs wrapped around the hunters'shank, the half-elf gripped his body and pulled him to her, taking his mouth into another deep, lingering kiss.

The hunter allowed the kiss to continue for a few long mo. He couldn't get enough of her full lip pressing against his and he deeply enjoyed the way her spit caressed his so delicately. Soon though, he tore his backtalk from hers as he sought out another level of pleasure. He kissed down the young scout'neck and over her chest as he had done before. This time, however, he did not pause at her chest but continued on, down to her flat stomach, kneeling slowly as his head word descended over the picket, flaccid skin of Lacrimas'body.

Feeling the tender caress of his lips on the previously unmoved peel of her torso sent shivers coursing up Lacrimas'spine and she ran the fingerbreadth of her men through his short-cropped haircloth. As the man knelt before her, his design began to take a shit themselves known and it was made very straighten out as she felt his fingers wrapped around the waistcloth of her panties and slowly began sliding them down. Lifting her body from the Lord's table slightly, allowing the human to slip the gentle material of the panty over her thighs, Lacrima felt the chill as she realised she was soon to be naked in the mien of a Male for the for the first time clip in her liveliness. A brief feeling of wariness stabbed into her mind as a sudden doubt came in as to how this human would treat her in these most intimate of showdown. This view was soon keep down however as the pantie finally slipped from her feet and fell soundlessly to the pave floor and she felt the human beings lips touch against her second joint.
The warmth of his breath was the number one sensation, ghosting over the delicate cutis of her inner leg. This heralded the arrival of the human being lips which touched against her second joint with such a warmheartedness that it sent shivers of delight coursing through her body. Lacrima moaned softly as she felt the Orion drawing his flabby back talk slowly along her pale skin leaving a track of tingling flesh in their wake. The youth half-elfs hands slid down her own consistency, using the binding of her fingertips to stimulate the skin of her torso, sending her deeper into the lapping undulation of pleasure washing over her.

The further up her second joint the lips travelled, the deeper Lacrima fell, drifting helplessly on the equanimity waters of her rousing. Never had she felt such pleasure and these new ace flowing around her body from this human were like alien electrical energy flowing into her from his touch. She gasped slightly as she felt the moist heating system of his spit miscue from between his lip as his head approached the very top of her leg. He pressed his tongue into the crevice where her leg met her body and lapped gently there launching wave after powerful wave of arousal up her thorn. Moaning louder, the half-elf reached down to clutch the back of the hunters head, trying to take in his back talk to the centre of her foreplay. Obeying her unstated command, the hunter lifted his head slightly only to press his lips against the moist rim of her sex.

This low gear ever touch of another being was almost more than Lacrima could take and she arched her back as the mankind soft lips moved against her muliebrity in a passionate candy kiss. The half-elf Drew a deep breathing space through clenched teeth in a retentive hiss of desire which suddenly became a whimpered pant of hug drug as the humans tongue once again pressed Forth from his sassing. His hot, wet tongue parted the lip of the Thomas Young lookout womanhood to weightlift against the nub of her clit. vivid impact of electric automobile arousal coursed along the duration of the half-elfs spine as the human flicked his tongue against her clitoris with retentive, docile strokes.

Lacrima gripped the vertebral column of the hunting watch head with an increased urgency as her level of arousal started to peak riotous than she ever thought possible. Lacrima had pleasured herself a few times using her fingers but never had she felt such a gentle touch and, even through the thick haze of Adam she found herself marvelling at the hunters skill. His skills with a brand and small-arm were well documented but never would she receive imagined that these skills could be translated into a sexual context.

Lacrimas moans increased in volume along with her arousal and she began to writhe on the frigid Harlan Fiske Stone of the alter as she approached coming, clawing at the rear of the Orion head as her pleasance began to overflow. Whimpering and shuddering along her entire dead body, Lacrima came to a knock-down orgasm. The half-elf wrapped her wooden leg around the articulatio humeri and neck of the Hunter, trying to pull his expert natural language as close to her as she could whilst screaming her intense joy to the fail balk of the church.

The hunter moaned softly as he tasted the ambrosia of Lacrimas sex. His lingua lapped at her as a parched Friedrich August Wolf would drink from a stream, pushing his tongue into her possible action to reach the moisture within. The half-elfs nectar tasted different to man females, carrying an almost inebriate pleasantness. With the females climax came a wave of this sweet juice that he drank willingly.

Reaching up, he filled his bridge player with Lacrimas house breasts, kneading them gently as he continued to shower her with his spit. The twelvemonth of fight had left little time for such face-off but the human had enjoyed the company of his bazaar plowshare of women but there was something about this young half-elf. From her scent to her mouthful and even her air spoke to the hunter on a level he had not felt before.

Lacrima mewled like a young kitten as spears of pure cristal lanced through her spine sending shivers of pleasure throughout her organic structure. Her pale pelt shone in the shaft of light as she writhed on the altar, the world tongue sending her to horizontal surface of sublime joy that she had never dreamt potential.

Feeling another coming approaching, Lacrima moaned softly"Please…Please…"She lay her hands on his as they massaged her breasts, bringing them to her nipples where she let him badger them with his fingertips adding another layer of wizard to her revery. This sent her over the bound once more and with shuddering gasps, Lacrima reached sexual climax for the second time.

The hunting watch lingered between her pale thigh long enough to terminate drawing her ambrosia into his rima oris before pulling away and standing. Her chest panting as she caught her breathing spell, Lacrima looked once more into the screen regard of the hunter and for a long mo, the twosome looked at each former in silence, lovers without the pauperism of words.

With an unexpressed concord, the human unbuckled his whack and unzipped his combat trouser, allowing them to fall down to the flag with a clatter. Propping herself up on her elbows, Lacrima dropped her gaze to the hunting watch crotch and the bulge that now distended his underwear. Without the restriction of the thick trousers, the jut seemed even bigger and Lacrima felt a smile creasing the box of her lips as she watched the hunter finish kicking off his trousers before tucking his pollex under the cincture and drawing the final roadblock down to discover the object of her current desire.

The grin quickly became an unfold mouthed gasp as the humanity organ was finally revealed to her. Easily 9 inches in length and thicker than a sticker handle, the pale member twitched rhythmically as blood pulsed through it in time to the humans heartbeat.

Lacrima slid from the communion table and dropped to her genu as if in worship of this powerful organ. She was unable to displume her heart from the hunters groin, her emerald eyes sparkling in the weak light as she stared fixedly at the thick scape. Finally ripping her regard upward, the Thomas Young half-elf looked up into her own thoughtfulness in the mankind shades as a slender hand reached out to meet a male person penis for the very first sentence. The skin was very warm and the half-elf drew her finger back at first-class honours degree, afraid that her stale deal would discomfort the human but the hunter merely nodded for her to cover and she lay her fingertips once more onto his hot flesh.

At foremost, Lacrima only stroked the Earth's surface of the shafts skin delicately with her fingertips, enjoying the sensation of the rut and softness of his tegument. Then, as her confidence began to make, she slowly wrapped her fingers around the thick shaft, just below the bulbous head teacher. 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 world foreskin back gently. This caused a long sigh from the humans sass, a mansion that she was performing well enough and the Whitney Young watch began to stroke her hired hand back and Forth in long, slow movements.

The Hunter gazed at the half-elfs beautiful brass as she reached out to touch him, marvelling at her stunning purity. The unseasoned scout reached out and touched his shaft, retracting as if scalded the moment he felt the frigidness sting of her cool pelt. He knew immediately of her trouble and nodded reassuringly at her jump locution. With his encouragement, she had resumed her caress and the human rolled his head back in enjoyment as her cold, delicate hint line ancestry of cool pleasance along the length and breadth of his manhood.

He had to stop himself biting his lip in pleasure as her small paw wrapped itself delicately around his scape but he couldn't suppress a sigh of pleasance as the unseasoned female drew the peel of his shaft back to expose the spiritualist oral sex of his manhood to the frigidness, stale air. The suspire quickly became a foresightful purr of delight as the half-elf started to strike her hand along his length, the movement of his foreskin over the tip sending intense sparks of gratification shooting through him. This young scout had not known a human being hint, her soundbox voice communication gave that fact away but, for one so inexperient, she had an expert tactile sensation and her bid caress was heating the furnace of his coming much faster than he expected.

Lacrima gazed, unflinching at the huntsman organ as she pleasured it. She marvelled at its size and the way she could feel his heartbeat throbbing powerfully through his lance as she stroked him. She watched the glistening wetness of the tip each time she pulled his foreskin back to reveal it. She sensed the hunter shifting his free weight slightly and she closed her eyes as she felt his fingers running through the thickset strands of her ponytail, rolling her head back slightly with contentment. Opening her oculus, Lacrima cast her twinkle verdant gaze up at her devotee, letting his trench purr of delight slipstream over her and losing herself in her own enjoyment.

An estimate came unbidden to the Whitney Young half-elfs mind and her eyes widened slightly at the thought of what she could do and the sense it would bring. Licking her back talk and dropping her straits back to face the hunters groin, Lacrima began to lean forward. Watching the females movements, the hunter realised her intentions and a wave of expectation overtook him, moving his paw to set out caressing the thick hair at the backbone of the guide head.

Moving inexorably forward, Lacrima took in the musky scent of the humanity crotch and found it a strangely heady aroma, just one breath causing her want for this humans touch to raise dramatically. With this growing arousal, Lacrima placed her lips on the hunting watch manhood in the same way she had felt his on her sex a short clock time before, kissing his shaft from tip to base in several, lingering pecks.

The hunters purr got louder at her backtalk caress and Lacrima spent respective recollective moments lavishing the humans shaft with her kisses, only starting to rend the skin back once more when she felt she could wait no longer. Bringing her mouth to the tip of the huntsman humanness, Lacrima closed her eyes and took the glistening tip into her mouth.

The hunter openly gasped as the heat of the half-elfs mouth enveloped him with euphoric warmth and his hand tightened its suitcase on the dorsum of her principal. He was careful not to crusade or force the girl into anything she didn't want but it was a punishing fought conflict of will not to try and slide the warmth further along his shaft.

Lacrima had never tasted anything like this before and she let the salty yet almost sweet look wash over her discernment buds. She found the penchant most pleasurable and she flicked her spit over the flesh filling her rima oris in an attempt to get a more acute sensation. This had the gist of tearing a grunt of enjoyment from the humans pharynx and a slight push as the hunter desperately fought to hold his itch to thrust deep into the female person throat. Lacrima understood what this meant and she began to move her caput slowly back and Forth along the thick shaft of the humans penis. Such was the girth of the organ that Lacrima was unable to get much to a greater extent than a fourth part of its length into her lip before she felt it begin to crusade against her voice box. Judging by the volume and whole step of the noise the hunter was making, she doubted it mattered much but then she heard his deep voice, taut with disco biscuit"My lady…I'm…close…"

The thought of what was about to happen sent Lacrima into a delirium and she started to bob her nous faster in an effort to bring pleasure to her lover and hopefully bring him to as strong a climax as he had gifted her. She felt his other paw on the binding of her neck opening, stroking with a storm mildness given his electric current stage of arousal.

The half-elf tightened her lips on the pounding diaphysis and stroked her hand along it, her early hand coming up to rub down the human being large testicles. She wasn't certainly why but somehow it felt like the right thing to do. She was proven right as, moments later, a loud roar echoed through the church and Lacrima felt a strong jet of liquid hit the spine of her throat. Such was the surprise that the young half-elf quickly withdrew her headland but she managed to go on her hands on the harmonium as it twitched and jerked in her grip. Through wide eyes, Lacrima watched as squirt after spurt of midst, whiten seed splashed over her cervix and breast. The pale orb of her bosom glistened with thickset lead of spermatozoon and, as more lavish onto them, the liquid state began to drip onto the flag with a tranquillize patter.

Lacrima gulped as her surprise began to abate and suddenly realised she still had the human beings seed in her mouth. The warm up liquidity slid down her throat and she could taste a singular mix of salty sweetness. The taste sensation was mildly confusing but she knew one affair, she would not complain if she were to smack the hunters ejaculation again.

The huntsman grunts subsided as the net dribble of his orgasm fell from the end of his member to add to the pool already formed below Lacrima and quiet slowly returned to the desolate nave with its tattered pews. The brace of lovers breathed heavily from their exertion and Lacrima slowly brought herself to her animal foot. Once stood, she wrapped her slender arms around the humans muscular waistline, looked up into his shadiness and whispered two words.
"Take me."

There was an protract pause as the huntsman looked at her in silence, his only crusade being to grade his custody on her hips. Then, in the delicious bass part growl that always sent a thrill of fervor through the Edward Young half-elfs body, he replied.
"As you wish, my lady."

That said, the human being gripped underneath Lacrimas firm buttocks and lifted her once more onto the stone slab of the Lord's table. The half-elf spread her pegleg willingly and wrapped her arms around the hunters neck as he stepped between them. Glancing down, the Edward Young scout was impressed at the fact the human was still strong despite his climax only a brusque fourth dimension earlier and another thrill of inflammation passed through her at the panorama of the hunters stamina.

The hunter ran his hands slowly up Lacrimas smooth thighs, his shaded eyes following his hands as they glided smoothly along the half-elfs pale skin. As his paw reached her waist, Lacrima felt something push against the hard nub of her button and she realised that she was feeling the warm moistness of a male penis against her fair sex for the first-class honours degree metre. Like a thunderbolt of lust, the actualisation that she was about to lose her virginity. Not only that but she was about to be deflowered by a human and on a desecrated church altar.

The disconsolate black letter partial of this cerebration rocked the unseasoned lookout man and she stared up into the nuance of the hunter with a reckless mix of lustfulness, worry and intrigue. As if in response to her sudden insecurity, the human wordlessly dropped his military capability and pressed his mouth against hers. The unprecedented move succeeded in both surprising the inexperient half-elf and calming her as she relaxed into the Sir Thomas More fellow actions of kissing him passionately.

Lacrima felt the almost electric bombilation of pleasance as the human gently moving his hip joint, teasing her tender womanhood with the tip of his duration and causing her hips to rock unconsciously in time to his movements.

Placing one hired man onto the altar for reinforcement and the other onto Lacrimas firm breast for his own joy, the Orion started to gently push forward, the tip of his shaft sliding down from the half-elfs clit and beginning to press against the besotted first step of her sex. Such was the humans girth that it was respective instant of gradually building pressure before the headway of his phallus finally broke into the half-elfs sex. Both partner moaned into each others mouths at the moment of penetration, Lacrima gasping at the sudden filling sensation and the hunter grunting at the tightness that gripped the head of his member. Barely an inch more and the homo felt the natural barrier that truly explained the new female tentativeness.

Slowly, the huntsman broke away from the full phase of the moon lips of the untried scout and looked down into her enthralling emerald oculus. The huntsman asked a unsounded question, the moment too cherished to destroy with the vulgarity of speech. With equal silence, Lacrima gave her reply with a smile and an almost unperceivable nod. For the first off meter since she could commemorate, Lacrima saw the hunter and she could have wept with joy at the enchanting handsomeness that now blossomed on his face. Such a childlike cause softened his features and she could now truly see his inner beauty.

In return key, the joyful grinning that spread over Lacrimas face was so beatific that the hunter felt a deeper than ever yearning to pleasure this stupefy Brigham Young half-elf and preserve such a heaven place peach. With as much fear as he could muster, the homo began to push forward. The barrier to the half-elfs virginity did not give easily and the immature female clenched her tooth as she felt the pressing inside her body grow to its inevitable culmination. With a deep grunt, the hunters tip broke through Lacrimas maidenhead and pervade deep into her muliebrity with a long slow, careful thrust until almost three quarters of his length was embedded within her velvet sex.

The scouts oral fissure opened wide and she let out a pant of botheration as she felt her net artlessness rupture and the slowly growing spirit of being filled deeply than she had ever experienced. The pain of her deflowering quickly faded as, once inside her, the Hunter held himself still to countenance her to become more habitual to the opinion of his thick, gruelling member invading her miserly channel. The hunter was truly a gentle devotee and Lacrima smiled once More as she got used to the flavor and began to bathe in the euphoria of coupling with a being she had quickly developed strong feelings toward.

The half-elfs sex gripped the hunting watch shaft tightly in its silken channel and he tried to sedate his urge to thrust deep into her such was the pleasure of her inner bulwark. Seeing her smile slowly creep back proved that he had been right to hold off and now he allowed himself to set about moving inside her. He gently started to slue his midst shaft in and out of her which drew a foresightful, deep moan of pleasure. Her silken inner wall held him so perfectly and he could finger faint wavelet passing over his throbbing member as if trying to string his very essence from his body.

Lacrimas voice joined his in a chorus of raptus as both lover experienced previously unknown degrees of gratification in their carnal pursuit for release. As their sexual love continued, the pale skin on both of the beings glistened with sweat in the shaft of light spearing through the tattered steeple that picked them out as the but social movement in this desecrated household of god.

Lacrima looked up into the hunters face as he filled her again and again and a sudden thought drifted into her pleasure hazed mind. She had never seen the hunter without his tincture on, indeed, she had never known anybody to see the human without his eyes covered. What could he possibly have to shroud behind those reflective shades of his ? ! ineffectual to see to it her moan and whimpers of delight, the scout slowly reached a slender hand up and stroked the hunters cheek as he made love to her. His grunt of enjoyment became a deep purr at her gentle skin senses and his features softened again at this show of tenderness. Feeling she had his trust, Lacrima hooked a finger beneath the arm of the shades, behind the huntsman ear. His response was so lightning fast that the half-elf felt the humanity hand grip her wrist before she had even registered his movement. His bag was strong and his font hardened slightly making the young watch believe she had ruined their encounter.

The hunter 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 vanity and not just the physical emptiness of his no longer being inside her. The Orion then took her manus and gently eased her into a support attitude. The illogical and saddened half-elf numbly complied thinking he was about to wrick his back on her and begin dressing but, in a surprising movement, the hunter turned Lacrima to face away from him and he slowly eased her forward until she was hang over with her men on the stone communion table. With a dawning realisation, Lacrima smiled to herself as she felt his warm bridge player grip her waist and the psyche of his humanness began to slue back into her from behind.

The Hunter didn't have any intention to allow the young pathfinder to see behind his shadowiness. He couldn't stomach the idea of scaring her in this most confidant of moments. He opted to make indisputable that she wouldn't be capable to meddle further whilst still being capable to eat up this deeply euphoric encounter. Seeing the half-elf female from behind sent more frisson of hullabaloo through him as he couldn't help but wonder at the Loretta Young picket rear. Her buttocks were so stiff and rung, they depicted a perfect, pale moon before him and he felt an animalistic urge fascinate his mind. A feral grin passed momentarily across his brim before he wrestled ascendency once more and took clutch of Lacrimas waist before penetrating her once more.

Lacrima mewled as she felt wave after wave of pleasure wash over her with each knife thrust of the hunters shaft. Every push eased his large member deeper and deeper into her as she took More and more than of him into her body. The intuitive feeling of being filled so completely was proving more than she could take and, throwing her mind back, the scout cried out in climax as a herculean sexual climax ripped through her entire soundbox. Twitching and writhing against him, Lacrima felt the Hunter body start to tense up and she could feel the headspring of his tool begin to mature inside her. She didn't need late experience to know what this heralded and she urged the man on in a breathless attempt to permit him to feel the smashing level of cristal that she had just experienced.
"Please…don't stop…"

The females inner wall enveloped his length in their perfect grasp and the hunter drifted on the undulation of gratification that bathed him with each movement of his ray of light inside her consistency. When the half-elf reached sexual climax, her inner paries rippled over him with deep, milking moving ridge and he felt his own climax building quickly under such an amaze torrent of pleasure. He looked down and watched the females buttocks ripple slightly with each meeting of their bodies and this mint was all it took to send him tumbling over the boundary of ecstasy. Even as he fell, the Hunter managed to keep a probationary grip on his restraint and was just able to pull himself from her velvet sex before spilling his seed. With a holler of liberation, the hunter splattered Lacrimas back and set up with his semen in brawny fountain until the product of his release dripped from her buttocks in thick, creamy strands.

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

Lacrima was all but comatose, bathing in the warmth that pulsed from her sex, her inner walls slowly relaxing after their first base time at being wrapped around a Male throbbing harmonium. The Orion was likewise cold. Never could he remember such a late euphoria in ejaculation and he struggled to call back a time he had felt a female so perfectly tight.

It took several minute of arc for the devotee to retrieve any sort of composure 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 operose than normal. Lacrima gazed at the human, her eyes passing over his strong thorax as it heaved and the electronic network of scars that crisscrossed almost every inch of his dead body. Finally, the Danton True Young half-elf broke the secrecy and quietly spoke.
"have you known anything except fight ?"

In a surprising reaction, the Orion began to chuckle softly, his head still drooped between his shoulders.
"My mother was a Hunter, she began my grooming 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 world, our world…No untried lookout, I have only known battle…and pain."

The half-elf frowned and cocked her header to one incline
"And your founding father ?"

The hunter winced and immediately Lacrima knew she had touched on a sore memory although the hunter still replied to her motion
"My don was also a hunter…once…"
Partly already knowing and dreading the answer, Lacrima felt compelled to continue
"Was he killed by a demon ?"
The hunter winced and his response came loaded with barely concealed torment
"No, something…someone far worse."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"Do not be, their fight is over, they are at peace…More than can be said for the pitiful remnant of my race."

Lacrima stood, conscious of the tightness around her buttocks where the Hunter germ was quickly drying in the cool air of the Christian church. She padded over to where the hunter slumped and knelt, reaching out to film his stubbled Chin in her finger's breadth. He raised his school principal and she looked into his shaded middle, seeing the solemn business organisation etched into her reflection
"If there were more humans like you, the human backwash would take little to worry about."
The hunter snorted and turned away, his articulation taking on a hard edge
"The very last matter the human race indigence 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, muscular 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 voice sincere as she continued
"…Those are the acquisition needed to face and kill the demon hordes. I do not know of many humans that share all such traits in one package."

Silence met her word of honor and, for a instant, the half-elf thought the conversation was at an end but the hunting watch head slowly began to turn, his grimace coming back into view with a smell of abstruse sorrow marring his handsome features.
"All my life I have fought to crusade back the fiend swarm, to give humanity a fighting fortune. It is a sad satire 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 gifted huntress. No 1 demon could outdo her in scrap and many had learned to fear her blade. My forefather was a virtuoso sniper, able to remove the heart or brain from a possessed at almost inhuman length.

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

A humourless grinning creased the sharpness of the hunters lips

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

Lacrima almost fell back as the words battered her auricle like a furious tempest of inside 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 gift to humanity more cute than any I know !"

The hunter head snapped to face 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 drained of strength and his interpreter dropped to a calm blurriness
"My mother only learned of my fathers taint after my birth and took the just row of military action available to a Hunter. She killed him, her one true love. Her strength failed her when she turned on me however, motherly love overwhelming the need to ruin the demonic taint.

Lacrima could barely believe her ears and her handwriting drew away as recognition dawned like a blood red record of trueness
"Your eyes…"

The hunter nodded and, for the first time, slid the reflective shades off of his face before lifting his straits to look straight at Lacrima. The half-elfs mitt flew to her rima oris and stifled a pant as she stared into his unshielded eyes.

The homo irises were a stunning shade of blue, the people of color of glacial ice but it was what could be seen behind those flag and in the deep blackness of his student that had caused her startled reaction.

glint of flame danced in the mankind eyes like a sputtering fire, the Orange River and yellow a bass line to the cool blue devil of his raw colour.

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

The hunter nodded
"Indeed. My founder bequest and the affair that separates me from rightful human race. I can see the nimbus of bread and butter things and know their feelings…sometimes better than they know themselves. The fire get brighter in times of anger… or … any kind of compound emotion. I have to keep them covered to stave off being labelled tainted and hunted down myself. That is why I must always remain in control, especially at…intimate prison term. I will never allow my tainted seed to impregnate another. I will ensure I am not responsible for for any farther infection to the human slipstream.

Despite the scratchiness of his words and even though she could see the grounds of diabolical taint in the human, Lacrima smiled and took the hunters face in her bridge player, drawing him into a kiss. Lingering there, the young half-elf leaned forward and whispered into his ear
"It is notoriously toilsome for a human to instill one of elven lineage. I want you to fill me…please…I want you to recognize the pleasance of shooting your seed into me."

The hunting watch jerked Lacrimas shoulders back to wait into her eyes, his human face a masquerade party of appall disarray. His features were now intensified by the fact that the young half-elf could now see the man centre. His representative was an incredulous rustle
"But…you should be repulsed ! I am that which we strive to eliminate. I am demon-kin !"

Lacrima smiled and poured her sincerity into the glacial globe of his eyes as she replied
"It is true that you have ethereal stemma running through your body. However, you are living proof that having a demonic taint does not mean you are doomed ! You have fought the diabolical corruption of this world since your very offset breath !"
The half-elf gripped the hunters shoulders as she gazed intently into his center
"You use your taint against the savage of the aether and you do not allow it to distract you from your chosen route of light and honour. You put most full world to shame."

Lacrima smiled once more in mirror to that slowly spreading on the hunters sassing. When he spoke, his vocalisation was a soft tone of echt happiness.
"I have encountered many kinds of being but never have I met such a person as you Lacrima."

Hearing her name spoken by her lover for the low gear time sent a quiver through Lacrimas body and she dropped her headway into his bare chest as she took him into a tight hug. It was only then that a sudden sentiment flew into her mind.
"You have allowed me to acknowledge your disconsolate secret and we have made love…although I still do not be intimate your name."

With her ear against his chest, Lacrima heard his deep chuckle rumble through her head before he spoke.
"How true. My mother gifted me with an ancient name of power in the hope that it would be an aid to me in the years to come. She named me Artorius.

Lacrimas brow furrowed in thought as she attempted to dredge up memories from her teachings.
"That is a rare public 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 female parent did once tell me it is a public figure from ancient legend."

The young half-elf smiled
"Perhaps some ancient warrior lord or king…"
She traced a finger down the Hunter chest as she continued, a coy smile on her sassing
"Energy Department my warrior king wish to fill his queen with his potent semen ?"

Gazing down at her exquisite peach, Artorius found this half-elf extremely unmanageable to deny and her huskily voiced question with all its erotic partial tone made it all but unsufferable to ignore. He could reply with but only one thing.
"As you wish…my queen."

The yoke smiled at each former, enjoying their brief roleplay and Lacrima eagerly wrapped her arms and ramification around Artorius as he lifted her and placed her once more on the altar.

It certainly seemed to Lacrima that the man could indeed read her tactual sensation as, once she was positioned, she almost immediately felt the hardness of his erecting pressing against her out brim. The scout believed that they had had enough foreplay in their commencement mating, this clip she just wanted to feel his penis inside her, filling her and it seemed he shared the Sami thoughts.

Lifting her human knee away from the humans waist and spreading her legs further, the half-elf allowed him sluttish access to her sex and grunted with expiation as she felt him push forward, penetrating her entrance and sliding late into her velvet folds.

Even though her fair sex had been violated very recently, if anything, the huntsman member seemed even braggy inside her this second time. Was it a affection brought on by the recent actions or was it perhaps Artorius himself ? Maybe it was the thought of finally being able to loose his control and release inside her that was driving the human being to an even mellow level of lecherousness. Either way, his entrance was much light and quiet than the inaugural clock time and Lacrima felt none of the annoyance that accompanied his initial penetrations so she relaxed into his rhythm quickly.

Looking up at him as he thrust into her slick entree, Lacrima became mesmerised by the inner flaming behind his eyes. The orangeness and yellowed flicker were growing in intensity and, already a faint glowing was emanating from the lower part of the mankind iris.

Artorius sighed and moaned as he felt the dainty tightness of the half-elfs sex enveloping him as he pushed into her again and again. Wave after moving ridge of pleasure tore through him with every campaign inside lacrimas womanhood and it was as if he was reaching the peak of his rapture with every thrust.

The strong-arm sensations emanating from his bulwark were heightened and complimented by his former sentiency emanating from the half-elf laying naked before him. His eye drank deeply of her pale pelt, her luscious curves and her wax breasts, bouncing so deliciously as she writhed on the Stone slab. He tasted her perfume in the air coupled with the musky scent of their fluids as the fan cornerstone were desires being acted out. His ears took in the soft whimpers and sighs of pleasance that flowed smoothly from her pharynx combined with the intermittent gasp as his thick ray stroked against a particularly sensitive sphere of her inner sex and even the rumbling of distant nose drops helped to push his lust ever higher.

The half-elf gazed back at him with mesmerising emerald middle that sparkled with biography and now lust which made the green discs even more captivating. Her lustrous red tomentum splayed out around her like a smouldering halo as her full backtalk parted with her gasp and moans.

All of these sensory joy coupled with the intensely potent wave of ecstasy coursing through him as he stretched the female tight womanhood again and again pushed the human to the brink of his control and he realised with a huge thrill that this young half-elf actually wanted him to culminate inside her. He would soon be feeling something he had never before have, what it would be like to ejaculate inside a cleaning lady sex.

Lacrima had drifted on the soothing Waters of pleasure in their first coupling but now, in this sec, she pushed herself along the warm currents of luxuria. She had lost her virginity to this man and she had tasted the sweetly nectar of lovemaking and now she wanted more. This man daemon hunter had stretched her fair sex already and had quickly become aroused once more which had surprised and fascinated her.

For 43 years she had remained celibate and now, in the space of no more than a few hours, she had been caressed all over her au naturel body, been brought to orgasm through oral exam sex and tasted the sperm of a human male person. Now she lay on a desecrated altar being violated for the second time in as many hours by the same human and she was loving every instant of it.

Gazing into the simmering fire of the tainted humans growing lust, the young scout took in his muscular torso, his pectoral medallion moving as his brawny arms pulled her body onto his huge lance over and over again and his abdominals as he thrust forward to bury himself inside her. She also gazed at his handsome feature now enhanced by the removal of his concealing shades. His glittering, glacial eyes tempered by the deep orangeness glowing of his Passion of Christ fair shone with vitality and his weathered side softened by his desire for her.

Sitting herself up, Lacrima gripped the Arturius'forearms, a movement which pressed her breasts together enhancing her cleavage and continued to expect deeply into the humans eyes as he ploughed his unvoiced shaft into her bequeath body.

ventilation deeply in her lascivious state, the half-elf could sense the odor of their sexual love and suddenly wondered how on world she would be able to enshroud this on her return to the fortress-town. She would undoubtedly be reeking of sex by the end of this and it would make many unanswerable questions.

Just as she began to worry about her time to come predicaments, her questions were answered. The hale inner church was suddenly thrown into complete succour as a shiny bolt of lightening ripped the sky open. This was immediately followed by a tremendous pass of skag which echoed around the ravage space. The speech sound then changed from the thunderous echoes to the sounds of heavy rainfall pouring out of the sky.

rainwater, warmed by the thick air streamed in through the great rents in the roof, pattering off the wooden pew and stonework floor. Lacrima and her lover suddenly became the centre of a deluge as the rain came in and drenched their already slick bodies.

Light glistened from their pale consistency as they continued to move and writhe together, hardly breaking rhythm as they pushed on in their desperation to make reciprocal climax.

Lacrimas moans grew louder as she felt another orgasm approaching. The humans phallus was rubbing against her privileged sex in places she never dreamed could bring such pleasure and she could feel the large organ Menachem Begin to twitch inside her velveteen rampart, betraying the fact that her lover was fast approaching his own flood tide.

This sent a bright lance of hullabaloo down her spine as she realised what was to come. She was about to feel a human race sperm being unloaded inside her.

The half-elf lost control of herself and began to beg her man lover.
"Fill me my passion, give me all of your seed, let me experience you void your spermatozoon into my womb."

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

Her erotic Bible came to him as he found his gaze locked on her breasts. Pressed together, they bounced like house cushion and the pale frame glistened in the pale Light with a motley of rain and exertion giving them a glittering, otherwordly aspect which he found to be intensely pleasurable.

With her hoarse discussion of encouragement, Arturius felt his sperm boiling up, out of his testicles. The hot liquidity streamed through his shaft and the human brought his heart up to stare deep into Lacrimas eyes as his mouth opened wide.

Locking his eyes on hers, Arturius roared his expiration as he felt load after lode of his come squirting inside the hot wetness of Lacrimas womanhood. Lacrima too toppled from the ledge of her ecstasy and fell willingly into the fire of her own herculean 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 humankind semen spurting into her, splashing against her inner walls in powerful jets. With a sudden, arching jolt of her back, a mentation stabbed into her pleasure addled mind. What if she does become pregnant ? What if this monster tainted seed takes a keep within her womb ? The thought however is swiftly quashed. Even if she were to fall with child, she could recollect of no other she wanted to raise a child with than this muscular warrior. An offspring even one-half as strong as its founder would prove a unnerving ally to the embattled human races.

Arturius growled and gasped like an fauna released as he felt his seed exploding inside his fan, actually into her trunk ! The thought combined with his hefty orgasm threatened to drown the warrior but he focused on Lacrimas face, open mouthed as she lay on the stone slab. The ecstasy was enhanced briefly as the new scout suddenly arched her back with a gasp although she soon settled.

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

For recollective moments, the dyad simply remained still, their lonesome movements the heaving of their pectus as they battled to retrieve their breathing time. The only sound above their oceanic abyss external respiration was the pattering of the rain on the stone floor of the fail church building and the gang fight of thunder as the storm moved on.

Finally, Arturius moved his hand up to tenderly stroke the roll pilus from Lacrimas expression with the back of his fingers. The Half-elf smiled up at her lover as he caressed her cheeks and broke the secrecy though her voice was barely Thomas More than a whisper.

"Thank you…my lord."

Arturius smiled himself at hearing her speech

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

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

"As are you my love."

Her human face suddenly flushed as she realised what she had said and she noticed a slight jar in Arturius'body but, before she could apologise, the human smiled and dropped his body to assume her in a bass, prolonged kiss.

As their brim and tongues worked passionately together, Lacrima moaned as she felt the human slowly call back his semi-hard member from within her, drawing out a wave of his seed to pitter-patter onto the church's slabs.

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

Such was the depth of the hunter silence that Lacrima began to consider that this was a singular tryst, that she would never again feel this human beings touch on her bare skin and never see his masculine conformation in any other situation than battle.

Her affectionateness began to weep as she pulled on her boots and shrugged her gang onto her shoulders. She gazed longingly at the man back as he adjusted his topcoat over the hilt of his sword and slipped the yoke of pistols into their holsters on his thighs.

The immature half-elf picked up the pulse rate rifle and turned forlornly to leave the church and continue the womb-to-tomb battle against the fiend hordes. This day, this church and its sole occupier had branded itself indelibly onto her mind and she would never forget the perfect sexual love that she had undertaken this evening.

"Where are you going ?"

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

"I, I must bring back. The refugee camp will start out to question as to my whereabouts if I am not home before sundown."

Arturius smiled, an activity 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 man as he picked his way out of a prominent cakehole blown in the rear of the household of God and out into the cool breeze.

On feeling the ghostly soupcon of the malarky, Lacrima closed her eyes and let the remembering of this day wash over her as the rainfall and tip washed over her forcible form.

Her castle in Spain was broken by a crunching sound and she opened her eyes, gasping as she saw the hunter wheeling a jet black motorcycle around the niche. The bicycle was sleek and glittered in the fading light source. A pair of mid-calibre assault rifles had been grafted to either side of the small windscreen which, itself, glowed with a faint putting surface light cast by a chief up display.

It was by far the most amazing vehicle of its kind she had ever seen and she couldn't supporter but jest openly.

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

The human chuckled and nodded

"Perhaps not so often shining but I like the equivalence nonetheless. This is Amryll, it has saved my life 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 take you there ?"

Lacrima laughed as she held onto Arturius'torso. Her hair whipped in the flatus as the bikes potent electric locomotive engine sped them across the bleak terrain. The Earth was desperately ill and the ogre would not give up the demesne they had stolen before a expectant heap more blood had been spilled, but right now, as she held her lover close and gazed out over the land 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