The worgen above her complied with her financial demands with silence, instead busying himself with a raking, hungry burning stare of unbridled perverse urgings. If stares had a physical presence, she would have been violated already, his mind spoke.<br/><br/><i><span style="color: DarkRed"><b>“We'll see if me men hav' been good boys ter' deserve it, luv! Afta' Oi've given me approval of the “merchandise”..”</b></span></i><br/><br/>The worgen attempted his best portrayal of a mischievous grin, conclusively sneering in an insidiously self-pleased fashion.<br/>With a few slow steps, the brutal thing of a man bridged the remaining space between her puffy, pillowy lips and his erect manhood twitching in barely constrained suspense. A clawed, furred finger traced along her straight, crown-like horns for a brief spell. A spark of surprised admiration was noted in his otherwise muddy mind of perverse ideas and hopes.<br/><br/>His appreciation of the curvature of her horns hurriedly faded to be replaced with his appreciation of the curvature of her mouth – with two large fingers at the mid of his mighty cock, the worgen perched his tool at her – hopefully awaiting – bottom lip, presenting a sight that many'd find pretty intimidating. Up close, his pecker looked even larger: inherently humanoid, the head was tinted toward that particular red hue of blood, explaining in volume the arousal that its owner experienced. Should she endeavour to take a feel, she'd notice its stone solid composition, occasionally embellished with those typically softer blood veins popping out.<br/><br/>Assuming her mouth allowed, the worgen slowly let his warm, hard schlong begin its invasion of her slick confines, the tangy evocation of salt tingling delightfully on her tongue. She was greeted with the presumably well-known sensation of sweltering fullness that accompanied a cock spreading her fuckable, soft lips as the worgen patiently enjoyed every slow centimetre of his advance.<br/>He'd continue the slow, perverse motion of inserting his slick cock into her velvety, slick and eager mouth until the very first point of even a fleeting resistance: At that moment, he stopped and pulled back just an inch, thereby indicating that he – for now atleast – wanted it slow and tender, without too much discomfort wrought on the scorching draenei at his mercy.<br/><br/>One hand dug into her long, raven-black hair, claws scratching very lightly across her scalp before her assailant bunched his hand together around a tuft. He didn't pull hard, only leaving the slight tug of possession speak for his intents.<br/>Another hand went to tuck at her shoulder, the rattling groan of his perverted satisfaction replaced by a throaty demand:<br/><br/><i><span style="color: DarkRed"><b>“Now -suck it good-, luv. And give me' jewels a -gentle- massage: Oi want ter see how well them fingers of yers perform.”</b></span></i><br/><br/>His malicious, yellow eyes bore down on the sight of his tool buried within the lusty woman, and judging upon the smirk of complacency, she was presenting herself just as juicy as she imagined and attempted at!<br/><br/>This notion was only strengthened by the surrounding mercenaries, guests and the barkeep himself dropping their respective guards: Who could blame them? Right there and now, a woman representing the Draenei, a pious and respectful race, was guzzling on a wolf-mans exposed pecker in plain sight. And worst of all, she looked like this wasn't solely business..<br/><br/>Only one man, for now obscured by the other congregating men, seemed defiant towards the situation, though the mind didn't exactly excempt itself from being aroused.<br/>Before Ruhzelil and her succubus compatriot could get a visual fix on him, he was out the door – the mental suggestion they picked up told that he felt he needed fresh air.<br/><br/>Curious.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>