Eldoria pulsed with life under the Breeder's prolonged presence. Walls gleamed with new reinforcements; forges rang day and night; the Artifact in the temple vaults now thrummed with layered power from sea, sky, and land. Valyndra's towering figure had become a familiar, awe-inspiring sight—walking the markets, blessing training yards with elven runes, her belly rounding gracefully with the first of the new generation. The city's women looked to her as a living symbol: if eternal elves could quicken, so could they all.
Yet morale demanded more than symbols. It demanded spectacle.
The idea sparked in the Guildhouse baths one steamy evening. Vaeloria, Liraya, and Valyndra soaked with Ethan, bodies slick, hands wandering idly.
"We've had Olympics, cooking, dances," Liraya mused, flames dancing on the water's surface. "What next to keep spirits blazing?"
Valyndra's long fingers traced Ethan's chest. "Your people love contests of strength and speed. A game—physical, fierce, bodies bared."
Vaeloria grinned. "Football. But naked. Teams of women, full contact, no holds barred."
Ethan laughed, pulling her closer. "And who referees?"
All three eyes turned to him, gleaming.
"You," they said in unison.
The Naked Football League was born.
Word spread like wildfire. Within days, the old coliseum field—once site of the Olympics—was transformed: goal posts of carved oak at each end, boundary lines painted in glowing pigment, stands reinforced for thousands. Rules were simple and savage:
Eleven players per team, fully nude.
Standard football rules—carry, kick, score goals—but tackling allowed anywhere, no padding.
No hands to ball except by designated "keepers" at goals.
Match duration: two forty-minute halves.
Four teams entered: the Flame Sirens (led by Liraya), the Obsidian Warriors (led by Vaeloria), the Sky Banners (led by Valyndra), and the City Sirens (a mix of guild women and pregnant veterans playing light contact).
Ethan as sole referee—whistle on a cord around his neck, wearing only a loose loincloth that did little to hide his reactions.
The opening match day dawned clear and hot. Twenty thousand packed the stands—men absent by ancient custom, but every woman and child cheered wildly. Bodies oiled against grass burns; hair braided or loose; muscles gleaming under sun.
Ethan stood center field as captains gathered. Vaeloria in black war paint, Liraya with flame tattoos glowing faintly, Valyndra towering golden and serene, city captain Mira strong and grinning.
He blew the whistle—sharp, commanding. The ball—a stuffed leather sphere—was kicked off.
Chaos erupted in beauty.
Women sprinted nude, breasts bouncing, asses flexing, tackling with fierce joy. Bodies collided—skin on skin, grunts and laughs mixing. The ball flew in arcs; goals scored amid piles of tangled limbs.
Ethan ran the field, calling fouls (rare—he let most go), blowing whistle for offsides or illegal hands. His loincloth tented obviously; players brushed against him "accidentally," hands grazing, hips bumping.
First match: Flame Sirens vs. City Sirens.
Liraya danced through defenders, red hair streaming, kicking a screaming goal. Tackles turned playful—women pinning opponents longer than needed, hands wandering.
Score tied at halftime; Ethan called break, players collapsing in exhausted, aroused heaps.
Second half fiercer—sweat flying, bodies mud-streaked from dives. Flame Sirens won 5-4 on Liraya's final sprint, dodging tackles that left grasps on thighs and breasts.
Second match: Obsidian Warriors vs. Sky Banners.
Vaeloria's team brutal and precise—hard tackles, powerful runs. Valyndra's elves used height—leaping catches, long strides. The tall elf scored twice, body soaring over defenders, landing in rolls that flashed everything.
Ethan's calls grew hoarse; arousal constant. Players teased—blowing kisses after fouls, bending slowly to retrieve the ball.
Warriors edged victory 4-3.
Championship final: Flame Sirens vs. Obsidian Warriors—Liraya vs. Vaeloria.
The crowd roared deafening. Valyndra joined Ethan on the sideline, long arm around his shoulders, whispering commentary as her team cheered.
The game was legend.
Bodies slick with sweat and effort; tackles devolved into sensual grapples—women grinding briefly before breaking free. Liraya scored first with a fiery sprint; Vaeloria answered with a bone-crushing run, shrugging tackles.
Back and forth—goals traded, bodies marked with grass stains and light scratches. Players panted, nipples hard from exertion and arousal, eyes wild.
Final minutes tied. Liraya broke free, ball at feet—Vaeloria tackled low, wrapping arms around thighs, bringing her down in a tangle. Whistle blew for end—draw declared, both teams champions by acclaim.
The crowd thundered approval.
Ethan raised arms center field. "Co-champions! Flame Sirens and Obsidian Warriors!"
Players rushed him—forty-four nude, victorious women surrounding their referee. Hands tugged his loincloth away; cheers rose as he stood bare and hard among them.
"Now," he declared, voice carrying, "the victors claim their prize."
The field became altar.
Players led him to center circle, laying him on piled cloaks. Liraya and Vaeloria took first honor—straddling face and cock, riding slow as others watched, hands between thighs.
The orgy unfolded in waves.
Women formed circles around him—mouths descending in turns, sucking deep and wet, hands stroking, tongues sharing.
"That mouth feels incredible," Ethan groaned to a Flame player deepthroating him. "Keep swallowing—just like that."
Another pair rode his hands—fingers plunging deep as they kissed above him.
Vaeloria orchestrated lines—women bending over the goal post, Ethan moving down the row, thrusting deep into each champion in turn.
"Gods, you're soaked," he told one Warrior, sliding home. "Take every inch—tell me how it feels."
"So good—stretching me wide," she gasped, pushing back.
He pounded harder. "Going to fill you soon—feel that?"
"Yes—give it to me—"
He spent inside her, pulling out to dripping applause, moving to the next.
Valyndra joined fully—her height allowing unique positions: lifting women onto Ethan one by one, or lying back as he took her missionary while others licked and sucked around them.
Liraya's magic warmed oils poured over bodies—slick slides, hands everywhere.
Groups formed and reformed: daisy chains of tongues and fingers; women scissoring while waiting turns; piles where Ethan thrust into one as she ate another.
Dialogue shifted with each partner:
"You're gripping me so tight—love how you squeeze."
"Ride me slow—let me feel every roll of your hips."
"That's perfect—grind down harder."
"Come for me—let everyone hear it."
"I want you dripping when I fill you."
Climaxes rippled constantly—women shuddering, crying out, some squirting onto grass as Ethan or companions pushed them over.
The sun set; torches lit; the orgy continued under stars—stands emptying as spectators joined outer circles or retreated to private celebrations.
Final hours: champions only again—twenty-two women focused on their referee.
They lifted him onto a makeshift throne of bodies—Liraya riding cowgirl, Vaeloria reverse on his face, Valyndra's long fingers stroking as others sucked breasts and balls.
He filled Liraya first—then Vaeloria—then took Valyndra standing, her long legs wrapped high as others supported them.
Exhaustion finally claimed them near dawn—field strewn with sleeping, sated forms, Ethan at center cradled by his three companions.
The city awoke renewed—bonds forged deeper, spirits unbreakable.
Healers later confirmed: from the game's raw physicality and the championship orgy's aftermath, seventy-two more women quickened—players, spectators who joined fringes, citizens inspired in the nights following.
Added to the previous two hundred and eighteen, two hundred and ninety in total carried the Breeder's legacy.
Two hundred and ninety hearts beating strong against the darkness.
Valyndra stood with them days later on the walls, golden hair catching wind.
"Even games become life," she said softly.
Ethan nodded, the next call already whispering on the horizon.
Pregnancies confirmed this cycle: 72
Total pregnancies since the second cycle has begun 290