The Clan Wars - Chapter 04

Chapter 4 - Bann

Bann was exhausted and sore, but mostly he was disappointed. It had been a difficult day, despite a promising start. The first competition he had participated in was archery and he had managed to achieve a fair result, but the centaurs with their powerful longbows were in high demand and his mediocre result at the butts had resulted in none of the warband leaders choosing him. After the archery came the sparring matches and a brutish Kolgannis barbarian had hewn his shield three times without Bann managing to break even one. A three to two score against a large centaur and a tie against a centaur colt resulted once more in no war-leaders selecting him for their raiding parties. Finally, in the scrimmage, he’d let his frustration get the better of him and had charged too early, ending up ahead of his team and in the midst of the opposing team’s shield wall alone. A vicious rapp to the back his helmet from one of the ‘enemy’ warriors had both knocked him out of the running for a position in a summer raid and knocked him out. His ears were still ringing. Now the forlorn young barbarian sat on the grassy slope at the base of the palisades nursing his pride and a sympathetic clay mug of mead.

Spread across the field in front of him were the gathered warriors of the two human clans of Kolgannis and Koltar and the two centaur clans of Running Grass and Rolling Rock. On the far side of the crowd a small wooden dais had been constructed, for the use of the clan chiefs and the warband leaders. Amid the gathered mass of warriors immense bonfires and smaller cooking fires blazed. Whole cattle were broiling on spits and kegs of mead and ale had been broached and were in the process of being emptied. Drunken human barbarians and inebriated centaur raiders celebrated by dancing, eating, drinking and fucking in equal measure. Years previous, when he was too young to compete for selection but old enough to join the celebrations, Bann had been all too happy to stumble wide eyed through the partying soldiers, gawking at the imposing forms of veteran warriors and the strutting young first-chosen. Young warriors generally spent their first two summers after reaching adulthood as part of the village militia, guarding the homesteads and training for the selection games. As a young militia member, Bann had always dreamed of being counted as first-chosen, as the warriors selected for their first raiding party were known. Now that he hadn’t been selected, Bann felt his dreams die. He would just be another old militia man, unfit for the honour of the the warbands. Oh sure, old One-Eye and Jarl Dantig tried to claim there was still honour to be had in guarding the village, but, though both his parents were dead, Bann felt like his mother and father, both clan housecarls in their time, would have been disappointed.

As he moped into his mug, Bann watched Gunnar Long Arm, Chief of the Kolgannis, mount the dais. There had been a few rousing speeches so far as the war-leaders from the various raiding units stood to declare how formidable their band was and how much plunder they would return north with, but Gunnar was the first of the clan leaders to address the crowd of over two thousand armed soldiers. As he stepped to the front of the stage a deafening roar arose from the massed ranks.

The iron-grey haired barbarian spread his arms, palms facing down, for silence. As the rumble died down, he began to speak.

“Fellow warriors! Fellow battle-kin! It truly is an honour to stand before such a gathering of skill and strength!”

The crowd roared again.

“We of the Northern Alliance of Clans have always been the fiercest, greatest warriors to raid the steppe! In ages past, when the host of hosts gathered and overthrew the Empire, who led the charge south to smash the border lords?”

“WE DID!” bellowed the crowd.

“And when the mighty host reached the gates of the Imperial capital, who was the vanguard that first breached the walls of Drasich?”

“WE WERE!” came the shouted reply.

Bann sighed. Gunnar was speaking of the overthrow of the Empire of Thae. Everyone knew the story of the great army that was formed when the tribes and clans united under one banner to overthrow the human and elven rulers of the Empire. One hundred years ago the orcs, goblins, trolls and giants of the mountains had united with barbarians, centaurs and minotaurs from the plains and forests of the east to march against the Imperial armies, defeating them in the field and sacking the capital city, Drasich. The Empire hadn’t survived the incursion and had fractured into the smaller kingdoms and city states of the west. Drasich was still a major metropolis, but the former imperial capital was now just a city state run by the merchant’s guild.

“I stand before you, brave fighters, to tell you there will be no warbands this summer. No raiding, no skirmishes,” continued Gunnar, “Instead, a new host is gathering!”

This was different, thought Bann, brow knitting as he looked up from his mug. Just in time to make the day worse, it seems Bann would be missing out on a warhost. The throng of warriors crowding the field before him was a frenzy of cheering and weapons were being drawn and raised skywards.

“Once again the clans muster to conquer!” shouted Gunnar over the roar. “Once again we march south! For long we have let the cities of the south and west grow fat, and once again the tribes will gather to reap the harvest!”

Bann spat in disgust at his failure and hauled himself to his feet to drag himself off around the palisade and away from the celebration he felt excluded from. Taking his mug of booze, he stumbled toward the quiet spot where the orchards grew close to the wall, seeking a secluded place where he could nestle down and get properly acquainted with his self-pity. Nothing like a good wallow in misery, he thought as he slouched underneath the arching apple trees.

Once the cheering of the crowd had faded to a faint rumble, the dejected barbarian found a suitable tree and slumped against it. Just as he was taking a deep pull from his tankard, the sound of hushed voices wandered through the evenly spaced trees and into his ears. He was about to dismiss them and find a new, quieter place to drown his sorrows, thinking he was overhearing a couple who had slipped off to have their own, private celebration, when he recognized one of the voices as that of Lisbet, the beautiful centaur queen who’d dallied with him that morning.

“I suppose you have to go with them,” said Liz.

“I am a war-leader, after all,” replied a deeper voice.

“I know that. It’s just that I don’t think this war is a good idea,” said the queen, a note of exasperation in her voice.

Curiosity piqued, Bann rose to his hands and knees and crawled towards the voices. He figured the lower voice was that of Brakis, a huge, sable centaur stallion; one of Clan Running Grass’ most capable war-leaders and one of Lisbet’s consorts. Sure enough, a few orchard rows over from his chosen wallowing location, Bann spied the pretty centaur queen standing next to the dark black bulk of War-Leader Brakis. The conversing pair were lit by the dully glowing moonlight that trickled through the spring leaves of the apple trees.

“Why do we ally with the other tribes once more, Brakis? Why do we want to attack the southern cities?” continued Liz.

“The plunder, the honour-” Brakis started to explain.

“You know I have nothing against a good fight and a proper haul of loot, love, but this just doesn’t seem right. And who’s that shaman that follows Gunnar like a dog these days, whispering in his ear?” The queen sounded angry.

“I don’t know, Liz. That shaman’s odd, to be sure, but the war-leaders voted on this, and you know we must respect the decisions of the Alliance,” said Brakis.

“I know, I know. I wish you weren’t going, or that I could travel with the warbands this year-”

“You are likely with foal. I realise it is still early and you can still run faster than your clan-guard, but we cannot risk-”

“The heir. Yes, yes,” the queen finished his sentence, speaking the words as if she’d heard them countless times before.

Even at this distance, the queen’s estrus musk still found its way to Bann’s nose. The heady mix of pheromones made his heart thump loudly and caused a stirring under his kilt. In the moonlit orchard, the young barbarian watched, mesmerized, as Lisbet reached back to unclasp her leather armour.

“Well, if he must depart in the morning,” she said as she freed her bountiful breasts from the confines of her armoured jerkin and exposed her pale, freckled skin to the moonlight, “perhaps my consort would care to mount his queen once more before he departs to war?”

Bann heard the black stallion snort with lust as Lisbet spoke. The hulking, sable furred warrior stamped his hooves on the grass as he moved behind his queen. The barbarian watched with lust induced awe as the light of the moon reflected wetly off the moist lips of Lisbet’s equine cunny when she lifted her tail to present her sodden slit to her mate. Brakis snorted again and his truly massive flared phallus slid from its sheath at the tempting sight.

Lifting his front legs high, the stallion trotted forward a few steps to mount the female centaur. The blunt head of his hose-like cock prodded at the folds of Lisbet’s pussy, coming away shining with wetness, as the male centaur tried to align his organ with the mare’s sopping orifice. After a few futile thrusts, the centaur warchief’s arm length penis finally slid home and Lisbet let out a satisfied grunt as her needy pussy was steadily filled by Brakis’ throbbing cock-meat. Once his engorged length was sheathed inside his queen’s cunt, the black stallion began to thrust his massively muscled hindquarters. Bann couldn’t tear his eyes away from the lusty scene before him, and his ears picked up the wet, slick, obscene noise of the centaur’s gargantuan tool sliding in and out of the estrus mare’s wet opening.

“Oh, fuck me!” said the centaur queen in a hoarse whisper, “That cock of yours feels exquisite! I knew I kept you around for a reason.”

“I aim to please, my queen,” said Brakis as he leaned forward to wrap his arms around Lisbet’s torso.

The large centaur took her heaving tits in each hand and began to knead the freckled orbs, squeezing her perky nipples between the knuckles of his fingers as he did so. Lisbet leaned her head back into the crook of Brakis’ neck and shoulder, turning her head and kissing the imposing male deeply as they mated. To Bann, the centaur queen had seemed tall and imposing, but now she seemed dwarfed by the bulk of the equine warchief mounting her. The obscene sight, sounds and smell of the centaur mare in heat being mounted by the massive stallion enflamed Bann with lust. He didn’t even realise he’d lifted his kilt and was stroking his cock rigorously, such was the fog of desire in his head.

While he watched, masturbating furiously, Bann could see Lisbet’s black lipped cunny dripping and splattering the ground with clear pussy juice that glittered in the moonlight as it was squeezed from the queen with every momentous thrust of Brakis’ flared cock. The pair’s rutting became more frantic and the sable centaur male tilted his head to bite his mare’s neck affectionately as he plowed his oversized schlong in and out of her quim. Lisbet’s roan furred haunches quivered with the impacts of the stallion’s haunches and, every time the male mounting her pushed his cock home, she let slip a small moan that seemed to catch in her throat. Brakis’ calloused hands never stopped mauling and teasing the queens pale skinned breasts as he bred her with increasing urgency.

Suddenly, the large male made one more heavy thrust, his grapefruit sized black nutsack slapping against Lisbet’s mons one last time, and Brakis held himself still atop the centaur queen. She let out a loud exclamation, half moan, half cry of joy, and Bann could tell the huge centaur was filling the mare’s cunny with his seed. They stood motionless in the orchard clearing for a long moment, the female centaur moaning breathlessly while pinioned beneath the ejaculating male, before Brakis began moving backwards to dismount Lisbet. His impossibly long cock seemed to take an eternity to withdraw from the centaur queen’s properly fucked cunt. When the flared head finally popped free it was followed by a waterfall of pale spunk that gushed from her gaping pussy. Bann couldn’t help himself. He moaned as his cock pulsed and spurted cum onto the ground.

The centaurs had been gazing at one another in post-coital bliss, but as he moaned while his cock sprayed cum onto the ground, Bann realised they’d both turned to stare right at his hiding place. He froze, screwing his eyes shut and praying to whomever might be listening that he would not be noticed.

“Well well, what do we have here?” said a deep voice.

It was followed by a higher pitched giggle. Brann opened his eyes, cringing as he did so to find Lisbet and Brakis looking down at him. They hadn’t redressed yet and both centaurs were gleaming in the night’s silvery light, covered in a sheen of sweat from their passionate fucking. Brakis looked irritated, but behind him, Bann could see a wry grin of amusement on Lisbet’s lips. He realised he was still crouched on his knees, kilt hiked up, his rapidly deflating cock exposed for all to see. Bann hoped it was dark enough that they couldn’t make out who he was, let alone the deep crimson flush of embarrassment that was taking over his face. Maybe if he got up and ran into the night he would remain safely anonymous...

“Oh, hello Bann!” said Lisbet.

The little warrior’s heart sank. “Um. Hi, your majesty.”

“You know this little spy, my queen?” said Brakis.

“We’ve met before.” said Lisbet, winking at Bann.

Brakis flexed the muscles of his neck, cocking his head to the side as he did so, and cracked his knuckles.

“So? Do I teach this little voyeur a lesson?” he asked.

Lisbet chuckled again. “No, no, it’s fine, Brakis,” she replied. “In fact, if you’re heading back to the herd, I would have a few words alone with our little spy.”

Brakis gave her a nod. “As you wish,” he said, bowing before he left for the visiting clan’s encampment.

As the big stallion departed, Lisbet turned to put her armour on. Once clothed, she faced Bann, who was still blushing furiously. He tried to stammer out an apology, but the centaur queen shushed him, interrupting him.

“Don’t worry about it, my friend,” she said soothingly. “I know the effect a mare can have on a male when she’s in heat. No, there’s something else I wanted to ask of you. I noticed you weren’t chosen for a warband.”

The reminder brought Bann’s crushing despair back to the forefront of his mind.

“Yeah. I guess I wasn’t good enough,” he said, looking down at the ground and trying not to show Lisbet how much the rejection affected him.

“There will always be another competition, Bann,” said Lisbet. “You can try again next spring.”

“But this year there’s a warhost, and I’m going to miss it, stuck in the village guarding the bairns and crops,” moaned Bann.

“There’s honour in that,” said the queen, “but I get the feeling that isn’t enough.”

Bann waited for her to continue. He’d heard the ‘honour in guarding the homesteads’ speech from old One-Eye. It was an important task, but the glory to be gained in a warband was immeasurably greater and in a warhost the greatest glory awaited. The barbarian could only imagine the champions and heroes that would have their legends forged on the battlefields.

“With the host in the field, I’ll need liaisons to deliver messages and keep me informed. I think having a human on my staff would ease the  process of communicating with the warhost leaders.” Lisbet continued, “There would be many responsibilities for you, and travelling to and from a host in the field could be dangerous. I have a few other liaisons as well, so you would not be alone in the task, but I think you would be an asset. Do you think you’re up to the job?”

He would be a messenger boy, but he would get a chance to travel with the warhost. Bann practically yelped his acceptance.

“Excellent!” Lisbet beamed at the enthusiastic warrior. “I’ll speak with your Jarl and let him know I’ll be commandeering one of his warriors.”

Bann was in a much better mood as he made his way back to the ongoing celebrations in the meadow. Lisbet had walked with him some of the way, talking about her younger days when she and Bann’s clan chief Dantig had been lowly warband leaders, but Bann had barely taken in any of what she was saying, his head packed full of excitement over the idea of marching with the warhost and the glory he could win. When Lisbet had parted from him to head towards the gathered clan chiefs, Bann had continued on to join the celebrations, refilling his mug with mead and seeking out his friends Hedda and Jon. After asking a few drunken Clan Koltar warriors, he found the spearmaiden and her shield-bearer beside one of the roaring bonfires. Hedda was seated on the ground, leaning against a large, half full tun of ale, while Jon was sprawled on the ground in front of her, head in her lap and obviously the worse for drink. At some point during the night’s proceedings both warriors had managed to get drunk enough to lose their shirts and, while the fair warrior seemed to be doing her best to polish off the barrel she was leaning against, her shield-bearer seemed barely conscious. Jon could never keep up with Hedda when it came to quaffing ale.

The young woman had been selected four years ago to raid with a warband led by a Kolgannis warchief named Gwen Steel Arm and, as was custom, would join Gwen’s warband again this year when they marched with the warhost. Hedda had tried to comfort her friend when Bann realised he would not be joining the warhost, but had ended up watching the despondent warrior slouch off to drink alone. She couldn’t help but notice the grin he bore when he returned.

“You seem happier,” she said as the smiling Bann picked his way past various inebriated partiers to sit beside her. “Some young lass take pity on you and let you get your dick wet?”

“Looks like I’ll be joining the host this year!” beamed the young barbarian, causing Hedda to raise an eyebrow in query.

“You’re looking at the newest warhost liaison for Clan Running Grass!” explained Bann.

Hedda squealed with glee and leaned over the comatose Jon to give her friend a hug. “Who’d you have to shag to get that post?” she asked.

Bann’s heart trilled as his half-clad crush hugged him. Jon groaned audibly as his face was smothered by Hedda’s ample bosom.

“Whatsh going on?” mumbled Jon, words slurred with drink.

“Bann’s going to be traveling with the host!” exclaimed Hedda.

“Oh good,” said her shield-bearer as he struggled to open his groggy eyes, “How’d joo shwing that?”

Bann delved into the story enthusiastically. Jon reached up from his prone position to give Bann a jab in the ribs and a crooked grin when the younger warrior described his morning at the butts and his first meeting with Lisbet. Hedda asked some pointed questions about the big stallion Brakis when he came to the part about catching the centaur queen and her consort in flagrante in the orchard. Bann tried not to be too lewd, but by the end of his story the two barbarians were laughing uproariously at their youngest friend’s debauched tale.

“You fucked a shentaur queen in the ash?”

“Oh my gods, Bann, was it really as big as your arm?!”

“Hand to heart,” said Bann solemnly, “I tell no lie.”

“Thish callsh for another drink,” said Jon, groaning once more as he clambered to his feet to dunk the party’s mugs in the ale barrel.

Hedda scooted forward to let Jon lean against the barrel as he sat down behind her and handed their now full mugs back. Once he was seated she leaned back against him and raised her flagon.

“I propose a toast!” she announced.

“Yesh! A toasht to the newesht shouldier to join the hosht!” agreed Jon, raising his mug with hers.

“Aw, thanks guys,” said Bann, clinking his mug against theirs and drinking deeply, “but I’m just going to be a messenger. You two will get the real glory.”

“Hey now,” chided Hedda, “You’ll be marching with the host and I’m sure you’ll get to join the fight when it happens!”

“Yesh,” slurred Jon as he lazily reached a hand around the ribs of the beautiful barbarian leaning against him to grope one of her large, exposed tits, “and joo got to fuck a shentaur in the ash. Joo should tell ush more about dat.”

In front of the happy group a couple of fellow warriors had shed their armour and the three idly watched as a female barbarian with long black hair hiked up her kilt to lower herself onto her red bearded companion’s erect penis. The black haired woman raised and dropped her ass onto her man’s lap with short, quick movements as they began to fuck, uncaring of the audience they had.

“That’s getting me fucking hot,” said Hedda as she watched the couple hump. “Why are we just talking about a good fucking...”

Her words trailed off as she reached over and slowly ran her hands up Bann’s thigh and under his kilt. Her fingers were cool from where they were gripping her now discarded mug of ale and they felt exquisite when they found Bann’s cock and balls. While Jon slowly groped her tit-flesh and teased her nipples, Hedda fondled Bann’s sack and tickled her finger-tips over his hardening manhood.

Hedda and Bann had fucked a couple of times before, although she usually lay with Jon, and Bann knew the pair were not exclusive to one another. Contraceptive potions were easy to make and acquire, so casual sex was commonplace among the tribes. When a couple like Hedda and Jon declared themselves for one another it was about an emotional bond as opposed to satiating a bit of carnal lust.

Jon placed his mug on the ground beside him and, both hands now free, lifted Hedda’s kilt to her waist. While gently rolling one of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger he reached down to run his other hand through the trimmed, blonde hair on her mons and slowly moved a teasing  finger over her labia.

Across from them the other barbarian pair were settling into a good pace, the raven haired woman squatting above the red bearded warrior’s lap while he thrust upwards into her. Their steady coupling produced a slapping noise as their skin smacked together and both were panting in unison.

Bann looked over at Hedda, grinning. “How do you want to do this?” he asked.

In response, she turned over and moved herself down between Jon’s legs, lifting his kilt as she did so. Taking his semi-erect cock in her hand, her lips brushed it as she wiggled her upraised butt and said “Why don’t you lick my pussy and we’ll see where we go from there?”

Bann moved behind Hedda, stripping off his tunic and kilt as he did so. His young muscles gleamed in the firelight. He kneeled and leaned in to put his lips against her slit, giving it a gentle kiss before sliding his tongue between her folds. Hedda gasped as she felt his tongue slide into her and began to bob her head up and down over Jon’s shaft, sucking on it fiercely. The fornicating couple across the fire had slowed their pace and turned their heads to watch as the three barbarians orally serviced each other.

Hedda’s cunt tasted sweet and salty on Bann’s tongue, and he reached between his legs to tug himself to full hardness as he enthusiastically ate her out. Jon moved himself forward to lie on the ground, moaning in pleasure as the spear-maiden’s pink lips slid up and down his now turgid erection.

“Godsh, girl, thatsh fucking nishe,” he mumbled between heavy breaths.

“Mmmmm. Bann’s got me nice and wet. You boys ready for this?” said Hedda as she moved up to straddle Jon’s waist.

With a leg on either side of his thighs, the blonde barbarian mirrored the actions of her black-haired kin and lowered herself onto the tumescent tool now between her legs. She let out a long sigh as she felt Jon’s engorged mass push into her cunt and leaned forward to wrap her arms around her shield-bearer’s head and mash his face into her titties.

She ordered Jon to pull her cheeks apart and then looked over her shoulder at Bann and gave him a wink and a smile, saying, “Go for it. You can tell Jon how it compares to a queen’s royal asshole afterwards.”

“Here, use this!” shouted the dark haired barbarian from the other side of the bonfire as she bucked her hips atop her partner’s entombed penis, “She’ll appreciate a little oil!”

The woman tossed a small flask from her side of the fire over to where Bann was standing and stroking his shaft. Bann grinned back at her while he popped the cork from the bottle’s neck and poured a generous amount of the slick oil it contained over his manhood. After smearing the lube over his veiny cock, he dropped to his knees and aligned his swollen cock-head with Hedda’s anus. The happily fucking couple behind him whooped and cheered as he started to push into his blonde friend’s incredibly tight sphincter. From below, Jon held her butt-cheeks apart, firmly gripping her white skin, while thrusting his own cock slowly into her cunt.

Bann liberally poured more oil onto Hedda’s delectable ass as he pushed against her asshole, watching as it oozed down her ass crack and trickled around the head of his penis before dripping down her pussy lips to coat Jon’s pistoning cock and balls. When Hedda flexed her haunches, Bann’s well-oiled cock suddenly popped inside her, wrapping his manhood in a warm, buttery, vice-like grip. Hedda let out a heavy breath.

“Oh gods, I feel so full!” she gasped.

“Fuck, Hedda, your ass is so gods damned tight!” was all Bann could sputter out as Jon removed his face from her cleavage and looked over the sandwiched spear-maiden’s shoulder to flash his friend a lusty, drunken smile.

The shield-bearer removed his hands from Hedda’s ass and wrapped his arms around the back of her neck, pulling the thoroughly stuffed female barbarian down to him, her tits mashing against his chest. Bann then placed his hands on the blonde warrior’s hips and leaned forward to fully sheath his length in her buttery back passage. Hedda shuddered with pleasure as the two barbarians mounting her began thrusting their meaty cocks in and out of her spread holes. Their efforts were disjointed at first, but eventually they established a rhythm. As Bann pushed his organ into her ass, Jon would withdraw his from her dripping pussy and soon the two cocks were sawing away in an alternating pattern of thrusts and the blonde barbarian was reduced to a quivering, grunting and moaning mass of pleasure.

Between gasps, Hedda twisted to reach back and grab Bann’s arm, pulling him down to lie with his chest against her back. Now properly sandwiched, the spear-maiden could feel her partners’ every movement as they gave her a proper fucking. Bann’s hips rose and fell as he humped vigorously, his cock filling her asshole exquisitely, while Jon grunted below her, pumping his hips upwards to thrust his engorged member into her quim. Hedda could feel the two meaty shafts rubbing against the thin wall that separated them inside her and her nipples stiffened with arousal at her debaucherous predicament, the two rock hard nubs pushing against Jon’s chest where her boobs were squeezed against him. Her ass jiggled and bounced as Bann’s eagerly thrusting pelvis slapped against it and the spear-maiden’s pale skin was soon covered with a sheen of sweat. Pressed between the two sweating, muscled and lust driven bodies of her friends as they plowed her arse and cunny relentlessly with their throbbing cocks, Hedda groaned in pleasure.

Through eyes half closed from the intense sensation of getting doubly penetrated she could see a few fellow soldiers gathering to watch the lewd scene. The thought of being watched, ass and cunt spread wide and stuffed with cock-meat, was too much for her and a powerful orgasm boiled through her thoroughly fucked body from her toes to her stretched holes and up her spine until it tingled across her scalp. As her orgasm tore through her, Bann could feel Hedda’s ass spasm and contract around his cock. The powerful pulses sent jolts of pleasure through his dick, edging him closer to the point of ejaculation.

“Gonna cum!” he exclaimed, pressing himself hard against the sweat-slick skin of Hedda’s back, his thrusting slowing in pace as his orgasm pushed its way up his shaft from his balls.

The hard-ridden Hedda could only manage a low moan, and suddenly she felt a burst of heat in her anus as Bann’s cock throbbed and erupted in her ass, splashing cum deep into her bowels and setting off another, smaller orgasm inside her. Bann could only lay slumped across his friend’s back as his over-stimulated organ pulsed and twitched, spurting what seemed like endless ropes of sloppy seed into her welcoming ass. At the bottom of the heap of orgasming barbarians, Jon kept languidly thrusting into Hedda’s quivering pussy.

“If you’re all done back there, joo mind climbing off? I think I want shome of that,” the warrior asked, words still slurred from the drink.

“Gods, that was good,” said Bann, feeling intensely satisfied. “Uh, yeah, all yours.”

Hedda gave him an exhausted smile as the young barbarian pulled his cock from her still spasming asshole. A trickle of his cum oozed from her well-used opening as Bann rolled to one side while Jon, holding her tightly against him, rolled Hedda onto her back so he was now above her. Once repositioned, he slid his tool, slippery with her cream, from her cunt, eliciting a tired moan from the blonde warrior, and pressed it against her slick asshole.

Already spread by the previous visitor, Hedda’s sphincter readily accepted the entrance of Jon’s turgid member and as Bann picked himself up to refill their flagons, the two were rutting vigorously once more.

“I’ll go get us some water,” he said wearily.

Over the slapping noises of Jon happily pounding his cock into her ass, Bann heard Hedda give him a tired ‘thanks’ and he wandered off to find something non-alcoholic to fill their flagons with. It had been quite a day, and some water would be a necessity if he wanted to avoid the worst of a hangover by the time the host departed in the morning.