The heat from the inside of her pussy made his tongue feel amazing! He loved that kind of heat on his tongue. She stirred again from her motionless sl...ep. This time he didn't stop, in some bizarre way, he wanted to see if she'd wake from this. She mumbled something again, unbeknownst to him, she quietly mumbled, "Please don't stop...." In her state of being extremely stoned, her hazy mind had managed to compute that her pussy was being eaten, but she was unable to determine who was eating her. ‘First, let’s call the roll. I’ll call your name and the village or town and you’ll cry out, ‘Here’ or ‘Present’, and then we can commence this year’s business.’ The chieftain called out a good many names and places both nearby and quite far away until the cobbler heard his village named — but with none of the Wee Folk answering for it. ‘Rollo Roundbottom of Muddlewick Village! Where is that lazy good for nothing Brownie? Has anyone seen him? He missed last year’s meeting and the one the year. She glanced over at Rooft, who was kneeling next to one of the dead. She remembered Fabren Rooft from happier times; when she was a recruit studying under Sir Givens. The man was not a warrior; he was a rancher. He raised goats and the occasional chicken. His skill with a bow came not from idle practice but from hunting; he supplemented his goat meat and chicken meat with venison, squirrel and, when he could, the odd boar. She knew he didn’t belong here, fighting the Red Guard, but she had need. Slowly he began to kiss his way down my stomach. When Trent got to my panties he started rubbing my already wet pussy through the thin, gauzy materiel. My hands were rested on his masculine shoulders as I watched him begin to eat me out through my panties. He slid my panties to the floor and I sat on the edge of the bed. Trent trailed one hand up my leg to my thigh gently spreading my legs to expose my aroused sex. He ran one finger up and down my labia, and then slipped first one, then two.