We're still giggling like idiots, box of glowing condoms rattling in Luna's belt pouch, when I glance at the sun.
"Yo, ladies, it's barely past breakfast. What do we do until tavern o'clock?"
Luna's ears twitch like she's been waiting for this exact question.
"Bro, I got you. Battlefield Arena. Ten-minute walk."
Sylvara's eyes actually light up. "Perfect. We watch, we learn, we don't die."
I raise an eyebrow. "We're fighting?"
Luna snorts so hard she almost trips. "With our Level 0 asses? That's called suicide with an audience. Nah, we're spectators today. Best seats, cheap snacks, and we study how real adventurers move."
Sylvara nods. "Monster wave defense, duels, party spars; everything happens there. Free combat footage. We'll pick up combos, timing, weak points… all from the safety of the bleachers."
Luna hooks an arm around my neck, grinning. "Plus half-naked sweaty warriors. Eye candy for everyone."
I laugh. "Sold."
We pivot toward the north gate, still roasting each other the whole way.
"Bet you five coppers Kai gets hard the first time someone casts a big spell."
"Ten coppers Sylvara secretly cheers when the beastkin brawlers strip."
"Twenty says both of you forget to blink for an hour."
By the time the massive stone arena comes into view (coliseum-style, banners snapping in the wind, roars echoing inside), we're practically skipping.
We pay the one-copper entry for the cheap seats, grab skewers and some frothy fruit drink, and settle in the shade.
Luna leans back, tail draped over my lap like it belongs there.
Sylvara sits on my other side, already analyzing like a coach.
The current match: a Level 8 berserker orc versus a trio of Level 6 mages.
Explosions. Blood. Shirtless roaring.
Luna whistles. "Dayum. Goals."
Sylvara smirks. "Pay attention, Kai. That's the kind of chaos we're walking into in a few weeks."
I just grin, arm casually along the back of the bench behind both of them.
We're lounging in the cheap seats, legs stretched, acting like we own the damn arena.
Luna suddenly leans in, ears flat.
"Kai. Gotta piss. Come guard me."
I roll my eyes but stand. "Fine, princess."
She smacks the back of my head playfully. "Single girl in a coliseum full of horny adventurers? I'm not ending up as someone's back-alley toy. Move."
We slip down the stairs and into the dim outer corridor. She spots a thick clump of bushes against the wall, grabs my wrist, and drags me in.
No hesitation: shorts and panties down to her ankles in one motion. That perfect pink pussy I saw this morning flashes again, lips slightly puffy, tiny blonde landing strip glistening from the earlier bath. She squats, sighs, and a strong golden stream hits the dirt between her boots.
I turn halfway, unzip, and pull my cock out. Morning wood's gone, but it's still thick enough that Luna side-eyes it while peeing.
We finish at the same time, shake off, laughing under our breath about how we're totally gonna style on people in this arena one day.
Then her ears twitch.
Thump-thump-thump. Wet skin slapping. A woman's high, desperate moan.
Luna's pupils blow huge. She creeps forward; I follow.
Fifteen feet away, hidden by leaves: a busty human adventurer on all fours, leather skirt flipped up, getting absolutely railed from behind by a shirtless spearman. Her tits swing with every thrust, nipples hard, mouth open in a silent scream each time he bottoms out. You can hear how soaked she is.
Luna doesn't even think. Shorts drop again. She spreads her legs, two fingers sliding straight into her already-dripping pussy, tail arched high. Her other hand darts over, yanks my pants open, and wraps around my instantly rock-hard cock.
Hot, wet show in front of us. Hot, wet beastkin hand on me.
She pumps me slow but firm, rough tongue peeking between her fangs as she bites her lip to stay quiet. I watch her fingers plunge in and out, pink lips gripping them, clit swollen and begging.
The couple speeds up; the girl starts coming with a choked cry, pussy visibly clenching around the guy's cock. That sets Luna off: thighs shaking, tail bristling, a tiny squeak escapes as she squirts lightly onto the leaves. Her grip tightens; two more strokes and I'm unloading thick ropes across her fingers and the back of her hand.
She doesn't miss a beat: brings her cum-covered hand to her mouth, licks every drop off her fingers, then leans in and drags that rough cat tongue up my shaft and over the tip, cleaning me completely.
Pants up. Smiles. Zero words.
We stroll back to our seats like we just took a casual bathroom break.
Sylvara glances over. "You two good?"
Luna drops down, tail curling happily. "Never better."
I sit, sip my drink, and watch the next fight start.
10 p.m.
The tavern door swings open and a wave of warm pink light, cheap perfume, and raw lust rolls over us.
The place is a den of controlled chaos: low lanterns glowing rose, tables pushed back, maybe forty adventurers in various states of undress. Nobody's outright fucking on the floor (yet), but hands are under skirts, tongues are down throats, and every corner has at least one couple grinding like they're trying to start a fire.
I keep my face neutral (Sung Jin-Woo levels of chill), but inside I'm already half-hard. Previous-life me wasn't a virgin; I can handle this.
We claim a round table near the back. Luna slams a tray down: six foaming mugs and a mountain of sizzling mutton.
Conversation starts casual (quests tomorrow, who owes who drinks), then Sylvara leans in, voice low.
"See those three?"
She nods toward a table across the room: two human guys (one tall and dark-haired, one shorter with a scar across his lip) and a petite foxgirl with three fluffy tails and amber eyes. Same vibe as us: obviously a party, obviously here for the same reason.
Sylvara lifts two fingers. They notice immediately and saunter over.
Introductions are quick and filthy with intent:
- Tall guy: Rowan, sword-and-board tank, easy grin.
- Scar-lip: Jace, dual-dagger rogue, cocky as hell.
- Foxgirl: Mira, illusion mage, already tipsy and giggling, tails swishing.
Six shots of fire-whiskey later, the deal is sealed in less than five sentences.
Sylvara, calm as ever: "One big bed upstairs. Condoms mandatory. Everyone comes, everyone leaves happy, no feelings tomorrow. Yes?"
Five heads nod like it's the most natural thing in the world.
We pile into the same attic room we slept in last night. Door locked. Lantern turned low, bathing everything in soft gold.
One king-sized bed. Six very horny, very responsible adventurers.
Condoms come out of pouches like throwing knives (ribbed, glowing faintly, courtesy of the gnome pharmacist).
Clothes hit the floor in a rush.
Sylvara strips with elven efficiency: perky pale tits, silver hair loose, pink nipples already hard.
Luna's golden skin glows, tail high, pussy already glistening.
Mira's smaller, fox ears twitching, three tails fanning out, cute little breasts with dark nipples, slit completely soaked.
Rowan and Jace are both built: Rowan thick and heavy, Jace long and curved. Condoms rolled on in seconds.
The bed becomes one slow, filthy tangle.
I end up with Mira first. She pushes me onto my back, tiny body straddling me, three tails brushing my thighs. She lines my cock up with her dripping entrance and sinks down inch by inch, whimpering the whole way. So tight it's almost painful. Her tails tremble when I bottom out.
Next to us, Sylvara's on her knees: Rowan behind her, gripping those pale hips, sliding in slow and deep while she moans into the sheets. Luna's on her back beside them, legs spread wide, Jace already balls-deep, her tail wrapped around his waist pulling him harder.
The rhythm starts lazy, almost gentle.
Mira rides me in slow circles, little fox growls in her throat every time I hit her deepest spot. I grip her hips and thrust up; she squeaks, ears flattening, pussy fluttering around me.
Sylvara's back arches hard when Rowan bottoms out; she turns her head and kisses Luna deep and messy while both girls get fucked side by side. Jace reaches over and pinches Sylvara's nipple; she moans into Luna's mouth.
Condoms crinkle with every wet slap. The whole room smells like sex and honey whiskey.
Positions shift like a slow dance.
Luna crawls over, pushes Mira off me gently, and takes her turn: reverse cowgirl, tail flicking across my chest, ass bouncing as she slams down over and over, claws digging into my thighs. Mira straddles my face without asking; I lick her clean, tasting both of us, her tails thrashing every time my tongue flicks her clit.
Rowan has Sylvara folded in half now, legs over his shoulders, pounding so deep her eyes roll back. Jace is behind Luna, one hand in her hair, the other rubbing her clit while she rides me.
Moans overlap, bodies slick with sweat, tails and hair everywhere.
Someone comes first (Mira again), squealing into my mouth, pussy spasming on my tongue. That sets Luna off; she grinds down hard, back bowing, tail bristling as she milks my cock through the condom.
I'm close. Sylvara notices, crawls over, pushes Luna aside, and sinks onto me herself: slow, deliberate, eyes locked on mine while Rowan lines up behind her and slides into her ass. Double-stuffed, she rides me with tiny, filthy rolls of her hips until I'm growling and filling the condom.
Jace is last, pulling out of whoever he's in, ripping the condom off, and painting Luna's tits and stomach in thick ropes while she purrs and rubs it into her skin.
We collapse in a sweaty, panting pile: six bodies, zero regrets, condoms knotted and tossed into the waste bin like spent spell scrolls.
Mira curls against my side, tails draped over my thigh. Luna licks a stripe up Sylvara's neck just because. Rowan and Jace sprawl at the foot of the bed, already half-asleep.