Chapter 1 - The Calm
The stars shone above the endless forests around Zin-Azshari, the elven city's white spires jutting out from the woodlands like a beacon of civilization. Structures of white stone adorned with graceful artistry, thrumming with powerful magic composed this grandiose city. At the center of Zin-Azshari lay the Well of Eternity, an immense fount of magical energy from which the Night Elf empire grew.
Nearest to this great sea-like well lived the Highborne, a noble caste of Queen Azshara's closest servitors. Sitting on a cliff a few miles away from the city was Shalendris, a commoner, her silver eyes looking down at the beautiful city, feet dangling at the edge. She quite enjoyed coming here, far from the hustle and bustle of the city. A place where the soft wind could caress her lavender skin freely, where she could be with her thoughts as songbirds chirped merrily all around her.
Many small Night Elven villages still surrounded the colossal capital, most containing barely a hundred souls. Shalendris wondered what the people in those villages were up to right now, as she looked down at that great forest. The peace and tranquility offered by the strength of the Kaldorei military allowed the people to flourish, to pursue the arts, to study magic and to pursue what professions they most loved.
Shalendris, like her parents, had a love of plants. From the tiniest flower to the greatest oak, the purple-haired woman felt most at home surrounded by these beings. As her fingertips combed through the grass beneath her, a soft smile came to her lips. They could not speak, she knew, but she could feel their presence, in a way.
And through them, she had felt another presence approaching.
"Knew I'd find you here," came a voice from behind her. "When the villagers told me they saw you taking the path up the mountain..."
"Othros," said the woman, turning her head to give the man a sideways smile.
The armored Night Elf, Shalendris' dearest friend and lover, sat down next to her, placing his decorated helmet on the grass next to him. She had known him for over ten years now, since he'd been stationed at her old village. One of the noble Highborne, Othros quickly rose through the ranks, becoming a Captain of the military.
Quite unlike Shalendris, the soldier was serious and well-organized. He was a noble and she, a commoner. Yet they completed one another and with her, he could let his guard down and be himself. He liked that about her.
"How's the shop?" the white-haired Kaldorei asked as his hand moved over hers gently in the grass, referring to her parents' flower shop.
"Business has been good, in no small part thanks to you," the appreciative woman replied honestly.
After her village had been raided by Trolls, Othros had urged Shalendris and her family to relocate to Zin-Azshari, in his family's ancestral home. They had accepted and her parents' shop of medicinal herbs and healing salves had turned to a simple flower shop, favoured by the nobility of the city.
Sitting so near her, the soldier could not help but appreciate the woman even more. Her presence alone soothed him like so many baths and massage oils never could, especially after so many weeks spent on the road. Looking down at her, he could not help a tender smile as his silver orbs roamed across her form. She, of course, pretended not to notice, somewhat amused.
A little over seven feet tall, Shalendris was of average height for a Kaldorei, though the rest of her was far from average. With a form devoid of muscle-tone, the full-figured woman's soft, supple skin held no scars whatsoever. Her hair, a deep, rich purple, flowed down to her lower back and she would often be seen tucking loose strands of hair behind those long, delicate ears of hers.
The softness of her form and manners seemed completely opposite to the clothing she wore most days. While other Night Elves preferred soft silks or even linens, Shalendris seemed to prefer leathers and furs, things one would expect to see on woodsmen and hunters. Leaving her stomach exposed, the woman wore a leather top that seemed to overflow with her abundant chest flesh. Each nearing the size of her own head, the impressive breasts made heads turn wherever she was, jiggling within that tight prison, threatening to spill out at a moment's notice.
To cover her legs, she wore a leather kilt, decorated with furs. The garment was long enough to cover her lower calves, though kept her small feet exposed. She preferred the feel of the grass and stone beneath her feet, she had told him.
"Do tell me of the last few weeks, Othros," asked Shalendris, shuffling over so that she could sit right next to the man, resting her head on his shoulder delicately. "I trust things are under control at the border?"
She loved to hear of his travels, of the peoples he met and of the dangers he often faced on the road. Though his duties kept him away so much, the tales he came back with made the wait worthwhile. While most other Night Elves were rather distrustful of other races and often looked down upon them, Shalendris had a great curiosity and respect towards them.
"Well, the Trolls have been quiet for a few months... We have had no reports of incursions into our territories. The Tauren have never really been an issue, as you know and the Furbolg - "
Othros' sentence was cut short as he felt Shalendris' hand slithering down his chainmail leggings, causing him to squirm a bit in anticipation. Having been gone from his lover for so long had caused that longing to grow within him and likewise her. He could have had his pick of women during his travels, but his heart belonged to Shalendris and he would remain true to her.
"Go on, dear..." came the woman's voice, a mischievous smirk upon those plush lips of hers as she started caressing his member, feeling its soft pulses against her delicate fingertips. Shalendris knew how to tease him, how to play with him. She motioned for him to move away from the edge of the cliff to give them both enough room.
With a soft groan, Othros obeyed and moved forward before leaning back, palms against the wild grass, continuing the tale of his travels.
"And then the uh... the Furbolgs... They have been having a hard time with some spirit of their long-dead Chieftain or something... He uh..."
His words were once again interrupted as the purple haired Kaldorei started pulling down on his armor to free his manhood. He lifted his ass up off the grass to give her an easier time of it and with a solid yank she managed to pull the leggings down to his knees, freeing his sizeable manhood, the veiny piece of meat smacking against his stomach, an eager drop of precum already oozing from its throbbing tip.
Oh, how it yearned for her touch. The thick purple prick was impressive by all accounts, easily able to cover the distance from the tip of her chin to the top of her forehead with a few inches to spare. His pubic hair was kept to a minimum, neatly trimmed but with a soft tuft of curly white hair just above the base of his maleness.
"The Chieftain of the clan he... Got corrupted or something... I do not know... That Shaman stuff... Never really understood mu-Nnmmff..."
He bit his lower lip as he felt her hand start stroking the base of his rod gently. Meanwhile, her pursed lips kissed the helm of his manhood, the tip of her tongue swirling agilely across that sensitive surface. Removing her mouth from his throbbing dick for a moment to look up at his pleasured expression, a devious smirk spread across her lips, quite obviously enjoying his reactions.
It did not take long for her to lower her head back down towards the pulsating cock, wrapping her lips around its immensity as lewd sucking noises echoed throughout the surrounding forests, a dribble of saliva escaping the corner of her mouth to roll down the formidable shaft. Practiced motions brought him ever closer to the long-awaited release.
Leaning over sideways in such a manner, he could feel her hefty chest pressed against his muscled thigh, that softness a wonderful contrast to the armor he wore during his travels. Unable to resist, Othros reached down with one hand, slipping his fingers into her top to grope at her right breast, fingers sinking into the irresistible, overabundant flesh.
A soft purr came from her throat, causing her lips to buzz pleasantly around his cock as she slowly dragged them up and down the throbbing vastness of that beloved pillar of flesh, coating it in saliva. Though he lips formed a near-perfect seal around the huge dick's circumference, a small amount of the Night Elf's saliva managed to dribble from the corner of her mouth, slowly rolling down to the man's fist-sized balls.
Shalendris nearly squirmed as she felt her lover's eager fingers brush against her sensitive nipple, his rough groping of her plentiful titty meat.
He had stopped telling her about his travels, he now realized, though she hardly seemed to care, too busy sucking and slurping hungrily on his cock, those lewd noises becoming louder.
Schlurp, schlurp, schlurp!
