The Joys of Diplomacy (World of Warcraft)
Copyright© 2010 by Jay Byrd
Chapter 8
Fan Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 8 - A Orcish Hunter, an Undead Warlock, and his minion are on an important diplomatic mission to the ruined lands of the High Elves. Diplomacy and negotiations can be dull, but it has it's perks. (World of Warcraft fan-fiction. More codes to come. Needles/Body-Mod codes refer to brief depiction of nipple piercings. Violence refers only to combat situations, not sexual violence.)
Caution: This Fan Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Mult Consensual Romantic Magic Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Hermaphrodite Fiction Fan Fiction Humor Zoophilia Paranormal Zombies Rough Group Sex Polygamy/Polyamory Interracial Oral Sex Anal Sex Masturbation Bestiality Exhibitionism Voyeurism Size Body Modification Needles Slow Violence
Once Azran had consumed the potion, he stood up and summoned Xlandria back from the ether.
"Please lay back down," she asked as soon as she appeared. "Gharni and I may be upset with you but more importantly, we want to make sure you're all right."
Azran complied, lying back upon the ground, now with his head propped up in Xlandria's lap. For the next several hours the trio watched the impeding trees crumble to ash as Azran received an earful about his behavior. He couldn't complain too much though, as his companions also took the opportunity to dote on him, tending to his wounds and caressing his face. Gharni and Xlandria took turns, alternating between chiding him for his behavior and expressing their affection.
Eventually Xlandria decided to show Azran exactly how much she loved him, opening his robes and performing gentle, slow falatio.
"Just remember," said Gharni as the succubus performed her magic, "if you get yourself killed we can't do this for you anymore."
Gharni moved down his body to take over from Xlandria who then moved up and began to kiss Azran deeply. The two of them traded off like this several times over the next half hour, not permitting Azran to cum. By this time Azran was writhing in delightful agony. After some more of this exquisite torture Gharni joined Xlandria at Azran's cock and the two of them worked together, locking lips in a kiss with his shaft held between their two lips and they moved up and down its length in unison. The sensation and sight of this act pushed him over the edge. Azran sent spout after spout of seamen onto his companion's faces and, once he was done, the two of them finished by licking his essence off of each other's faces.
Azran gave a sigh of relief and exasperation as he came down from his climax. "Even if I don't get myself killed doing something foolhardy," said the warlock, "the two of you will likely do me in with attentions such as that."
Xlandria laughed, "I think surviving that kind of onslaught is just like any other attack; you build up a defense to it through practice."
"Therefore," added Gharni, "we should do this more often so that you can build up your strength."
Azran rolled his eyes at the convoluted logic in Gharni's joke and chuckled. The three companions laid there for another hour as the blaze quickly consumed the wall of wooden debris and gradually died out in its ashes. Once the way was clear they resumed their journey.
The Thalassian Pass wound its way through a mile of narrow valley before coming to a distinctively elfin edifice. The wall would normally have been inviting with its sweeping shapes and open doors, but it was strewn with banners clearly demarcating the presence of the Scourge. A few abandoned and dilapidated meat wagons were scattered about here; their condition giving testament that they had not been used or even moved since the attack upon the Sunwell.
Azran, Gharni, Xlandria and Frekaz stopped once they had passed the wall and surveyed the land before them.
"The Scourge has done so much damage to this land," said Azran. "Their creeping blight may have moved on, but it has left its mark."
"How can you tell," asked Gharni.
"I used to live here," said Azran. He paused for a briefly, lost in memory, but soon returned to the moment. "But that was a lifetime ago, literally."
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