CHAPTER 550: THE HUNTER’S CHALLENGE (2)

Sigrid, now sitting up, her blonde ponytail swaying, clapped once, a sharp clap clap that rang through the clearing, her blue eyes glinting with approval. "Give it to her, My Lord Husband!" she growled, her voice a warrior’s cheer, her muscular frame taut with excitement. Arielle’s shlick shlick was frantic now, her core trembling, the plug pulsing as she neared her own edge, her spectacles slipping further, her breath a ragged huff huff. She’s a fire, Arielle thought, her awe and envy twisting like vines, Lara’s fierce grace a wildfire that burned through her restraint. Lara’s cries peaked, a raw "FILL ME! YES!" that tore through the night, her lean frame shuddering as her cave clenched around Lyan’s thing, the quelch quelch a triumphant tide as her belly swelled slightly, holding every drop. The slap slap slowed, then stilled, Lara collapsing onto the stone with a thump, her red braid a fiery halo, her green eyes fluttering in bliss, her huff huff a contented sigh. "Chief Husband... you’re too much..." she murmured, her voice a soft growl.

Lyan eased back, his thing still proud, glistening in the firelight. Tara, her fair skin glowing like moonlight, stepped forward, her thyme-scented hair swaying like a meadow breeze, her brown eyes warm with hunger. "Me now, Chief Husband," she said, her voice soft but insistent, a gentle plea laced with fire. She knelt before him, then leaned back on the grass, her legs parting, her cave exposed to the firelight, glistening like a hidden spring, her tunic creaking with a creak creak as she shifted, her fair cheeks flushed with anticipation. "Rough... like them," she added, her brown eyes blazing, her breath a soft huff huff. Lyan knelt before her, his scar glinting, his dark eyes a quiet promise. "Prepare for it," he said, his voice a velvet rumble that sent a shiver through Arielle’s core, her shlick shlick a desperate pulse as she watched.

Lyan’s thing entered Tara’s cave with a deep, forceful thrust, the slap slap sharp and relentless, a Slap! Slap! SLAP! that echoed like a storm’s roar, each impact a spark that set Arielle’s nerves alight. Tara’s cry was a wild "MNNHHHH! ROUGHER!"—her voice a doe’s bleat turned fierce, her slender frame arching against the grass, her thyme-scented hair splayed like a golden veil, her brown eyes wide with bliss. The quelch quelch was a wet, primal pulse, a rhythm that matched the thump thump of Arielle’s heart, her own shlick shlick a frantic echo as she watched, her core throbbing with a need that felt like a tide pulling her under. "HARDER! CHIEF HUSBAND!" Tara roared, her hands gripping the grass with a scrunch scrunch, her fair skin flushed with a rosy glow, her cave stretching to hold Lyan’s fierce rhythm.

Lyan’s thrusts grew fiercer, the slap slap a storm of Slap! SLAP! SLAP!, each sound a thunderclap that seared the night, the quelch quelch a tide that drowned out all else. Tara’s moans were beastly, a wild "GRRRAH! MORE! MY LORD!" that echoed through the clearing, her slender frame rocking with a force that seemed to shake the stars, her tunic creaking with a creak creak as she pushed back against him, her core a furnace of desire. Sigrid leaned in, her lips finding Lyan’s jewels, her slrp slrp a reverent dance that drew a low rumble from his throat, her blonde ponytail swaying, her blue eyes glinting with mischief. "Keep it fierce, My Lord Husband," she growled between slrp slrp, her muscular frame pressed close, her hands gripping his thighs with a scrunch scrunch. Lara, now sitting up, leaned in for a kiss, her lips capturing Lyan’s with a slrp slrp that was fierce and hungry, her green eyes blazing, her red braid brushing his shoulder with a rustle rustle, her mmh! a soft hymn that wove into the slap slap and quelch quelch

.

Arielle’s core trembled, her shlick shlick a frantic rhythm, the plug pulsing like a second heartbeat as she watched, her spectacles fogging with the heat of her breath. They’re a storm, she thought, her heart full of awe and longing, the mountain women’s freedom a wildfire that burned through her restraint. Tara’s cries peaked, a raw "FILL ME! YES!" that tore through the night, her slender frame shuddering as her cave clenched around Lyan’s thing, the quelch quelch a triumphant tide as her belly swelled slightly, holding every drop. The slap slap slowed, then stilled, Tara collapsing onto the grass with a thump, her thyme-scented hair a golden veil, her brown eyes fluttering in bliss, her huff huff a contented sigh. "Chief Husband... you’re everything..." she murmured, her voice a soft whisper, her fair cheeks glowing in the firelight.

Lyan eased back, his thing still proud, glistening like a blade forged in starlight, his scar glinting as he caught his breath, his dark eyes warm with satisfaction. Sigrid and Lara pulled back, their slrp slrp fading, their faces flushed with delight, their eyes glinting in the firelight. Sigrid’s blonde ponytail swayed, her muscular frame relaxed but vibrant, her blue eyes warm with devotion. Lara’s red braid glinted, her lean frame taut with energy, her green eyes flashing with mischief. They knelt beside Tara, their hands brushing her shoulders with a brush brush, their laughter soft but vibrant, a chorus of huff huff that filled the clearing with warmth.

Arielle’s heart pounded, her shlick shlick stilled, her core still humming with the aftershocks of her own climax, the plug a warm anchor that tethered her to this moment. They’re his, and I’m his, she thought, her scholar’s mind finding peace in the chaos of desire, her breath a ragged huff huff as she watched the mountain women’s radiant afterglow. Their freedom, their fire—it was a world she longed to join, a ledger balanced by love and passion. She pushed the tent flap aside, the rustle rustle of canvas a quiet rebellion as she stepped into the firelight, her spectacles glinting, her soft hands trembling with resolve.

"I want to spar too," Arielle said, her voice trembling but firm, her cheeks flushed as she met Lyan’s gaze, his dark eyes widening with surprise, then softening with warmth. Sigrid’s blue eyes sparkled, her laugh a booming ha ha that echoed through the clearing, her blonde ponytail swaying as she clapped Arielle’s shoulder with a thump. "Stewardess Warrior!" she teased, her voice a warrior’s cheer. Lara’s green eyes flashed, her red braid swaying as she grinned, her freckled nose crinkling. "Join the fire, Arielle," she said, her voice a playful spark. Tara, still catching her breath, nodded, her thyme-scented hair swaying, her brown eyes warm with welcome. "You’re one of us," she murmured, her voice soft but sure.

Lyan stepped forward, his scar glinting in the firelight, his half-smile a promise that sent a shiver through Arielle’s core. "A spar, then," he said, his voice a low rumble, his hand extending to her with a brush brush that felt like a vow. Arielle took his hand, her fingers trembling, the plug pulsing within her like a second heartbeat, her cave throbbing with anticipation. But before the heat could overtake them, Lyan’s dark eyes twinkled with a different intent. "First, you learn to fight," he said, his voice steady, a teacher’s command wrapped in warmth. "A stewardess warrior needs strength before passion."

Arielle’s spectacles fogged, her breath a soft huff huff as she nodded, her heart pounding with a thump thump. Fight? she thought, her scholar’s mind racing, her soft frame unaccustomed to the mountain women’s prowess. Sigrid clapped again, her clap clap ringing through the clearing, her blue eyes blazing. "Strip down, Arielle!" she growled, her blonde ponytail swaying. "Warriors spar bare—nothing to hide!" Lara’s grin widened, her red braid glinting as she shed her leather armor with a creak creak, her freckled skin glowing in the firelight. Tara followed, her thyme-scented hair swaying as her tunic fell with a rustle rustle, her fair skin luminous under the stars.

Arielle hesitated, her cheeks burning, but Lyan’s steady gaze anchored her. "Trust the fire," he murmured, his scar glinting as he shed his own tunic and trousers, his thing proud and bare, glistening like a blade in the firelight. Arielle’s breath caught, her spectacles slipping as she fumbled with her tunic, the creak creak of fabric joining the night’s rhythm. Her soft curves emerged, her skin pale and trembling, the plug a warm secret as she stood bare, her cave pulsing with a shy heat. The mountain women cheered, their ha ha a chorus of welcome, their eyes warm with encouragement.

Lyan led her to the center of the clearing, the loamy ground cool under her feet, the fire’s heat licking her skin. "Balance first," he said, his voice a low rumble, his hands guiding her stance with a brush brush. "Feet apart, knees bent." Arielle mimicked him, her soft frame wobbling, her thump thump

heart loud in her ears. Sigrid circled, her muscular frame a shadow in the firelight, her creak creak vest discarded, her blonde ponytail swaying. "Stronger, Stewardess Warrior!" she barked, her blue eyes glinting. Lara and Tara watched, their huff huff breaths soft, their bare forms glowing, their laughter a bright spark.

Lyan demonstrated a lunge, his body fluid, his thing swaying with a swish swish that drew Arielle’s gaze, her cheeks flushing deeper. "Strike like this," he said, his arm slicing the air with a whoosh whoosh. Arielle tried, her arm trembling, her lunge clumsy, her face brushing too close to his thing, the contact accidental but electric, a brush brush that sent a jolt through her core. Lyan’s low chuckle rumbled, his dark eyes warm. "Careful, Arielle," he teased, his scar glinting, but her spectacles fogged further, her breath a ragged huff huff as she stumbled, her cheek grazing his thing again, the heat and scent overwhelming, a musky fire that burned through her restraint.

"I... I’m sorry," Arielle stammered, her voice a shy spark, but Sigrid’s booming ha ha cut through. "Clean it up, Stewardess Warrior!" she teased, her blue eyes blazing, her blonde ponytail swaying. Lara’s green eyes flashed, her red braid glinting. "Go on, Arielle," she urged, her voice a playful growl. Tara’s brown eyes softened, her thyme-scented hair swaying. "It’s part of the spar," she murmured, her fair cheeks flushed. Arielle’s heart pounded, her thump thump a storm, the plug pulsing as she leaned forward, her lips trembling, her spectacles slipping as she pressed a tentative kiss to Lyan’s thing, a soft slrp slrp that drew a low rumble from his throat.

The slrp slrp grew bolder, her scholar’s restraint melting, her tongue tracing the length of his thing, the musky heat a wildfire that consumed her hesitation. Lyan’s hand tangled in her hair with a rustle rustle, his mmh! a quiet vow, his scar glinting as he guided her gently, his thing glistening in the firelight. "Good, Arielle," he murmured, his voice a velvet rumble, the slrp slrp a reverent rhythm that wove into the night’s pulse. Sigrid clapped, her clap clap a warrior’s cheer, her blue eyes blazing. "That’s our Stewardess Warrior!" she growled, her muscular frame taut with excitement. Lara and Tara leaned closer, their huff huff breaths soft, their bare forms glowing in the firelight, their eyes warm with approval.

Arielle pulled back, her lips glistening, her spectacles fogged, her breath a ragged huff huff as the plug pulsed, her cave throbbing with a need that felt like a storm breaking. Lyan’s dark eyes were a quiet storm, his half-smile a promise. "Now, wrestle," he said, his voice low, guiding her to the grass, her soft frame yielding as he showed her a hold, his hands firm with a brush brush. They grappled, their bare skin sliding with a swish swish, her cheek brushing his thing again, the brush brush accidental but electric, her core tightening as she stumbled, her thump thump heart a war drum. Lyan pinned her gently, his thing pressed against her thigh, the brush brush a spark that set her nerves alight.

"Try again," he murmured, his scar glinting, his hands guiding her to her feet. Arielle lunged, her soft frame pressing against his, her cheek grazing his thing once more, the brush brush drawing a soft mmh! from her throat. Her spectacles fell to the grass with a thump, her eyes wide as she leaned in, her lips finding his thing again, the slrp slrp a fervent dance, her core pulsing with a wildfire of desire. Lyan’s low rumble echoed, his hand steadying her with a brush brush, his mmh! a quiet encouragement. "Enough practice," he said, his voice a velvet rumble, his dark eyes blazing. "Now, the spar you wanted."

Arielle’s breath caught, her thump thump heart a storm as Lyan guided her to the grass, her soft frame yielding, her cave exposed to the firelight, glistening like a hidden spring, the plug pulsing within her. "Rough... like them," she whispered, her voice a shy plea, her cheeks flushed with a rosy glow. Lyan knelt before her, his thing proud and ready, his dark eyes a quiet storm. "Prepare for it," he said, his voice a low rumble that set her nerves alight. His thing entered her cave with a deep, forceful thrust, the slap slap sharp and relentless, a Slap! Slap! SLAP! that echoed like a storm’s roar, each impact a spark that set her core ablaze.

Arielle’s cry was a wild "AHH! YES!"