<94 - Two Weeks Later> "Ready, Dad?" Lyrah called, performing a small twirl in the common room of their cave. A thin, airy, daffodil-colored sundress hugged her plush curves this sunny Saturday morning, and a matching, wide-brimmed hat offered her plenty of shade for later. "Ugh, must we?" Drenan grumbled as he lumbered into the room. His usual, simple attire had been replaced by a world-worn set of druidic robes, which had clearly seen much more use before they'd fallen into his hands. A few holes were scattered here and there among the emerald green fabric, and the faded, gold-colored leaves didn't look nearly as life-like as they used to. Lyrah half-frowned as she walked over and tried to smooth out a few wrinkles on his robes. "If we wanna stick around, yeah. It's not every day that a life-mate ceremony occurs out here." Drenan snorted, but allowed Lyrah to work over his robes. "Be that as it may, I despise wearing robes like these. They are far too tight, and these in particular are almost too hole-ridden to be worn." "It's just for an evening," Lyrah assured him as she smoothed out one last wrinkle. "I'm not super big on it either, but I've been looking for a good reason to wear this dress." The bull couldn't help but smile as he watched his daughter twirl a second time, eyeing the fleeting reveal of her thighs beneath her otherwise-knee-length fringe. "Very well, I suppose I can tolerate an evening. For you." * * * * * The ceremonial grove in the Moonglade was already bustling with patrons, most of which were druids that lived in the area already. Many tauren showed up to the night elf wedding to support their cohorts as well, and Shele was quick to greet Drenan and Lyrah shortly before the ceremony was about to start. "Ah! Look at you two!" the druidess gushed as she looked over Lyrah, then a bit less enthusiastically toward Drenan. "I am thankful you could make it. Soren and I saved you two seats in the back." "Thank you," Drenan said appreciatively. Shele knew how much he groaned at these sorts of things. "Come, come," she encouraged, but as they neared the back of nearly three dozen rows of wooden chairs, her face dropped to find Soren sitting next to only two empty seats. "Honey, what happened to Lyrah's chair?" Soren shot her a sheepish look and twiddled his gray-furred thumbs. "Uh, well, you see, about that... I had to go to relieve myself for a few moments, and when I came back, someone had taken one of the chairs and moved it elsewhere." Shele's expression darkened, but Lyrah was quick to touch her arm and flash a disarming smile. "No worries! I can just sit with Dad. You won't mind, right?" Drenan waved a dismissive hand. "I encourage it." Because of the stolen chair, Drenan happily took his seat without having another directly to his right. Shele plopped herself down on the seat next to him, leaving Soren at the very end of the back row. Drenan patted his lap and smiled at his daughter, who gladly returned the look before shuffling backwards and placing her plump posterior perfectly upon his paternal perch. A few moments of idle chatter ensued before the band began to play, and the crowd went quiet to witness the night elf ceremony. Of course, when one gets bored, one's attention tends to stray. Drenan sighed softly and wrapped his muscular arms around Lyrah's belly. His fingers clasped neatly over her soft, thin dress, and his lowest digits seated themselves at the divet between her belly and thighs. Lyrah's head was just about at the same height as Drenan's from her perch, allowing him to quietly whisper into her ear. "Are these ceremonies particularly long?" Lyrah had to stifle a giggle. "These two are pure Elunists. This is gonna be more than an hour, I betcha." "Ugh," Drenan groaned and shifted in his seat. The gentle gesture gently sank Lyrah's rump more deeply into his lap, and his own thin robes made it easy for him to feel every sensation beyond them. The shaman's plush pillows were always lovely for the bull to behold, and each time she wiggled, a gentle whisper of pleasure slid through Drenan's body. Lyrah's ears perked up a bit as she felt something exceptionally warm shift beneath her seat. A coy grin slowly crossed her face when she realized exactly what it was she was feeling, and in response she dared to wiggle herself even more atop his lap. "I could think of something much more entertaining, if you wanted, Daddy." "We cannot leave," he retorted, shifting once more until the fabric atop his tool slid just a bit. Suddenly he no longer felt the fabric of his robes pressed against his tapered tip, and instead the much softer silk of the sundress began to accelerate its subtle growth. "We don't have to," Lyrah whispered. All eyes were on the bride and groom up by the altar, and once she was certain no one was looking, she grasped the fringe of her dress and carefully worked the back of it up past her thighs inch by inch. It was a slow, calculated task, but ultimately the silk gave way to her naked fur, giving her father's protruding manhood a much nicer home against her bare bottom. The hole in his robes must have been wider than he'd realized, for there was no resistance from the fabric as his swelling erection pushed ever onward. His tapered tip was almost instantly pressed against Lyrah's folds, and it was obvious Lyrah had been anticipating this due to her lack of underwear. "And what brought this on?" Lyrah tipped her head far enough to shoot her father a playful wink. "I know you," is all she said before returning her gaze to the ceremony. Her body, however, continued to wiggle and squirm atop his lap, and her mouth slowly fell open as her father's cock began to push its way into her tight, soaked folds. Drenan grunted softly as he tightened his grip around her belly, pulling her more comfortably into his lap and simultaneously sinking another inch inside of her. His keen eyes watched her mouth drift open even wider, and the second the first hint of a moan came forth, Drenan dared to clap a hand over her mouth as fast as he could. It was the clapping noise that finally caused Shele to glance over at the couple, and the sight of Lyrah's disheveled skirt made it obvious what the two were doing. A flush of color rushed to her cheeks, but she made no move to stop them. Instead, one hand dared to drift down where Lyrah's tail swished between the chairs and give it a gentle tug. Lyrah squeaked into her father's hand, but the tug only stoked her fires all the more, and brought Drenan's length even further inside of her. There was no hope of following the ceremony anymore when a bit of careful shifting allowed her nether lips to swallow her father's cock whole. Searing pleasure shot through her body, and the shaman found herself glancing around the crowd to see if anyone else had caught sight of them. All eyes yet remained on the ceremony, and once satisfied, she dared to glance down at Shele, only to find the druidess slipping her fingers beneath her own robes as she squeezed Lyrah's tail. "Daddy...!" she just barely squeaked into his hand. "Shhhhhh," he cooed into her ear, planting a fleeting kiss on her cheek as his hips began to rock upward into her. There was no feasible way of thrusting without someone hearing them, but the gentle shifts and the rhythmic squeezes of her nethers around his cock were more than enough stimulation for the both of them. This slow dance of wills carried on for several long, agonizing minutes, with the occasional kiss upon Lyrah's neck breaking up the monotony. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Lyrah could keep herself in check no longer. The burning hot pleasure and thrills of the crowd around them was too much for her to bear. "I... I...!" she squeaked, then sharply shoved her face into her father's shoulder as she spasmed and quaked upon his lap, thoroughly dousing his holey robes with her nectar as her climax took over her faculties. Drenan's grip turned into iron as he clung to his spasming daughter, desperate to keep her quiet while the ceremony carried on. The gripping of her tender quim was more than he could bear, and he, too, shoved his muzzle into her mane as a last shift sent several salty spurts of his thick cum into his own daughter's nethers. Both father and daughter struggled to steady their breathing as their unified climaxes faded away. Shele's fingers were still going wild beneath her robes, and by this point Soren had surely caught on, considering the tent beneath his as well. Drenan dared to nuzzle her neck once more, whispering into her ear, "I love you, sweetheart." "I love you t-" she started, but her words were cut short unexpectedly. Her eyes went wide, and without warning her furred cheeks bulged out, forcing her to clap a hand over her mouth. She couldn't speak as she lurched forward, yanking herself unceremoniously off of Drenan's tool before bolting away from the ceremony and behind the furthest tree she could reach. The sudden movement turned a few of the nearest heads, and Drenan had to sheepishly reshuffle his robes until his slick, wet erection had been concealed once more. With a bow of his head, Drenan more politely stepped away before running after Lyrah. The bull was tempted to call for her, but he did not need to with the sound of intense retching reached his ears. A few more steps and he found Lyrah on her hands and knees in front of a bush, bringing up the bulk of her breakfast and lunch from earlier that day. "Lyrah! Are you okay? What happened?!" As Drenan knelt down behind her to rub her back, Lyrah coughed a few times amid her struggle to catch her breath. She slowly wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and what followed was a series of giddy, almost manic, giggles. Her father looked at her in confusion and concern. "Lyrah?" "I know it," Lyrah eked out between giggles. She turned around to face him, smiling from ear to ear. "Like, there's no other reason that could've happened!" "Reason? I do not follow...." "Daddy," she added as she took both of his hands with hers. "I'm pregnant! I have to be!" A light breeze could have blown Drenan over, but there was no hesitation as he threw his arms around his daughter in delight. His embrace turned into a fearsome squeeze that she immediately reciprocated, and the two of them remained silent as they both worked to process this incredibly early, auspicious sign. Gentle tears began to fall from Lyrah's eyes as she held her father tight, shortly followed by a couple of choking coughs.... ... which forced her to turn right back around and unload the rest of her breakfast.