<2 - Temptation> Blud was tugging the tie on his loincloth. A few tugs and the cloth fell free, exposing his manhood before pouring water all over his genitals with his bead strands falling to either side… and Chela couldn’t take her eyes off it. Even flaccid, her father’s cock looked monstrous. It was easily thicker than both of his thumbs put next to each other, and he would’ve been lucky to cover two thirds of it with one hand. A thick nest of black pubic hair shrouded its base, and a number of thinner hairs lined his base. The rest of his hair made a thick pelt of curls over his balls, which looked just as proportionally large resting beneath him where he sat. His tip showed no foreskin, and cock was a noticeably paler green than the rest of his skin. It was almost exactly how she dreamt it to be, but [i]really[/i] looking at it for the first time, she realized why his kilt hung nearly down to his knees. “Something the matter?” Chela’s cheeks immediately turned a deep crimson. She looked up to find her father staring back at her, his head slightly tilted, still washing himself, but no signs of displeasure or discomfort. Her staring, however, had caught his curiosity, and she knew it. “No! Nothing!” She protested, and in a panic she released her handful of water, doused her torso, and proceeded to rapidly splash herself several more times. Blud grunted out a chuckle. “Suit yourself,” he returned and continued to rub down his manhood. The water was beyond refreshing in the heat, and Chela’s soaked clothes clung to her and cooled her thoroughly. The beaded strands that ran along the cloth, however, did little to hide the hardening nubs beneath, and accentuated the thickness of her exceptional thighs. Part of the reason she’d asked her father to accompany her was due to her lack of physicality. She knew how to call upon the elements well enough, but swinging her truesteel mace taxed her quickly. Chela was not nearly as muscular as most of her kin, having favored studies in a tent over in a sparring arena. Her belly and thighs were soft, and her bust, while not massive, was still heavy enough and distracting if not restrained. She was significantly more bottom-heavy with extra wide hips; something she had been self-conscious of since she was little. The two of them stayed for a few more minutes before resuming their journey southward. Midday turned into evening as they approached the frightening cliff that dropped into the flooded Thousand Needles. “Best stop here for tonight,” Blud remarked with a yawn. ”Yeah, we can catch a boat tomorrow,” Chela remarked cheerfully. ”A boat?” Blud added with a laugh, working to build a fire pit. “Afraid not, Re’ka (an orcish term of affection). Tools you did not fashion yourself are forbidden, and we do not have the time to build a boat.” Chela groaned. “What… we have to [i]swim[/i] all the way to Feralas?” ”We do,” he said with conviction. “It will take the better part of tomorrow, so we best rest up. The spirits will favor us, I am sure of it.” The shamaness was clearly not happy, but Chela knew there was nothing she could do about it. On one hand, she was thankful her father offered to act as a spirit guide, and that she brought him along, but on the other hand it seemed like most of his guidance just made the trip harder than it needed to be. She could only argue against tradition so much. Their new camp was surrounded by a semicircle of cliffs, and the two of them built a small barrier of stones to minimize the amount of light their fire produced. Seated on opposite sides of the fire, the two of them ate, then promptly laid down to sleep. * * * * * Chela’s eyes slid open half-lidded, and she sat upright once again in the dead of night. [i]‘Another dream?’[/i] She thought to herself. Her body began to move again, crawling on all fours. [i]‘What’s happening? What am I doing now?!’[/i] Her thoughts and body were acting separately, as if she were a spectator watching herself act. She felt the warmth of the fire as she passed, and soon found herself kneeling just beyond her father’s feet. Her gaze fell upon his kilt. [i]’Wait, I can’t…!’[/i] Her arms stretched out and pushed his beads down his thighs. The orc’s cock laid there before her, just as big as it looked earlier that day… but wasn’t entirely flaccid. [i]‘This is too much! He’ll disown me! What would Mom think!?’[/i] Delicately, Chela took her father’s cock into her hands and began to stroke. In less than a minute, the muscular male was at full mast, and his tip was drooling hungrily with precum. Yet Blud’s eyes remained closed, and his chest continued to rise and fall rhythmically. Inside, Chela was panicking, but her heartbeat was as calm as could be. She carefully let go of him, then tugged at one of the ties keeping her own kilt in place to let it slide quietly to the ground. The freshly-bottomless orc ambled forward on her knees, rose, then ever-so-carefully straddled her father’s waist, hovering her womanhood a few short inches above his cockhead. [i]‘By the elements!’[/i] Her hips began to descend, and her father’s tip directly grazed her outer folds. She keenly felt pressure, as if he were close to penetrating her, until his erection bent just enough to slide him up in front of her dribbling nether lips. Those very lips kissed the underside of her father’s shaft, and as she continued to descend, they dragged hungrily down his shaft, finally pressing firmly down upon his hair-laden base. The sensations that shot through her body were otherworldly. [i]‘Is this… does it feel like this with all boys?’[/i] Her parents had kept her focused on her studies throughout her youth, and Chela had never so much as dated a boy before, which made these lascivious dreams all the stranger -and more exciting- to her.