The forest was still humming with the echo of the goblin's climax when she felt it—another presence, moving with low, eager intent. The rustle of underbrush, the shift of weight on soil. Her pulse quickened, and before she could turn, a second goblin lunged from the shadows. This one was younger, wirier, his breath ragged with hunger.
He struck not with claws or fists, but with lips and tongue, burying his face between her thighs from behind.
Shhhlllp… schlkkhh… mnnnghhlllkk…
Her body jolted, the sudden wet heat spreading across her core like fire. Muscles in her legs trembled, and her gloved fingers pressed into the dirt for balance.
Her voice, husky but composed, cut through the night:
"Training… mere combat technique. Nothing more."
But her thoughts betrayed her.
She could feel his tongue spreading her folds, greedy and relentless. Each flick was sharp, wet, making her thighs quake. Her hips wanted to rock back against his mouth, to grind down and drown him in the taste he sought. The sensation clawed at her composure, peeling away her armor of words.
Schlurp… slkhlhhhkkk… fffffhhlllp…
Her breath came in shallow bursts, her chest heaving against the tight black leather that clung to her curves. Beads of sweat rolled down her neck, catching the moonlight.
She whispered again, as though to convince herself:
"It's only wrestling… only another test of stamina…"
And yet, her eyes fluttered shut, her lips parting as muffled gasps broke free.
The goblin's tongue dove deeper, spreading her, circling, sucking, the sound wet and obscene. Every swallow against her flesh echoed inside her body. Her own wetness mixed with his spit, dripping down her inner thigh, hot and sticky. The scent filled the air, earthy and primal, intoxicating.
Glrrrk… shhhlhhppp… nnnghhlllrrrk…
Her hand clenched into the soil, nails biting earth. Her other hand drifted unconsciously toward her own breast, squeezing, pinching, her breath trembling between control and surrender.
A whisper escaped her, softer, almost reverent:
"Fufufu… combat… yes… such fierce… combat…"
But her trembling thighs told another story.
The forest seemed to close in around her, shadows heavy, air thick with musk and heat. The elder goblin groaned above her, his rough hands clutching at her golden hair as he bucked desperately. She had him pinned in her "training"—or so she told herself—but the fight slipped further from discipline into raw, wet need.
Then it struck.
His thick release burst inside her mouth, flooding it with hot liquid that spilled across her tongue. It was sudden, overwhelming, a torrent she couldn't swallow fast enough. Her throat worked frantically, gulping, gagging softly, while rivulets of seed spilled from the corners of her lips, trailing down her chin.
The same moment, the younger goblin beneath her drove his tongue deeper, harsher—
Schhhllrk… fffffhhlllp… glrrrklllkkhh…
—and her body arched violently, every nerve screaming.
Her climax tore through her like lightning, thighs quivering, vision flaring white. For a heartbeat, she was blank, gone—lost in that sweet electric oblivion. Her voice cracked in a ragged moan against the mouthful of seed she still struggled to swallow.
When her senses staggered back, she realized the old goblin hadn't stopped.
He had shifted, pressing his thick, veiny shaft between her breasts, forcing them together with his rough hands, rutting into the soft valley of her cleavage. His grunts were heavy, his sweat dripping down onto her face as he thrust, his tip smearing slickness across her skin.
Her lips trembled, catching his rhythm at the top, sucking at his swollen head each time it brushed her mouth. Mnnnfffhh… schlkkhhhppp…
Behind her, the younger one was relentless, slurping, growling into her folds as if her release had only driven him deeper into frenzy.
Shhhllrp… gllrklllpphhh… nnnghhhlkkhh…
Her gloved hands clawed at the soil, her back arching so hard it hurt, her body pinned between two mouths and the throbbing weight of flesh sliding in her cleavage.
"Fufufu… s-so this… is still combat… j-just training…!" she gasped, voice breaking, though her inner thoughts drowned her own words:
She wanted more. She wanted to be used, to be emptied, to drown in their hunger until she couldn't tell where battle ended and craving began.
The night air rang with wet sounds, guttural groans, and her own shaky breaths as the "wrestling" dragged her further into its rhythm.