Bicorn Shagging – 6,000 Words of Nonstop Smut

Bicorn Shagging


Background: My DnD character “rescues” a Bicorn from a bandit camp and “manages” to seduce her when they get back to town. “Manages” is in quotes because said Bicorn is a massive slut who may or may not have been having sex with two bandit leaders while the party was making an assault on the camp. This rather harsh portrayal of Bicorns is because the DM hates their adulterous nature in line with the rest of the /monster/ community. My character doesn’t care and just wants to shag.

The DM introduced her in bipedal form, but she reverted to centauric physique upon arriving at the tavern – so she has the ability to easily change her body.

I am entirely aware of the lapses in pacing and flow especially at the end. I am restrained in terms of characterization as my DM refuses to answer questions about Emilia’s character and wants nothing to do with the whole thing.


Emilia and Presbyter went up the tavern stairs, his hand in hers as she took the lead. The bicorn had already cast a spell about her, trading her centauric lower half for a bipedal one that ceased being human at the knees, roughly transitioning to black-furred shins that terminated into hooves. These hooves clicked on the wooden floor, light in contrast to the falls of Presbyter’s armored boots. They walked briskly, almost on the verge of running as they made their way through the door-lined hallway. Theirs was the right room at the far end whose door practically flew open one moment before being slammed closed in the next. Then the two were upon each other, lips mashing furiously without even so much as greeting.

It was Presbyter who had shut the door behind them and twirled Emilia into the kiss. He leaned in, armored arms snaking past her waist and hips to flip up her skirt and grab two handfuls of her juicy ass, which elicited a cute coo from her that vibrated throughout his mouth. Emilia, however, couldn’t grope much herself – Presbyter was still fully armored save for the sallet helm and bever that he’d left downstairs. Her efforts to pry the plate off of him came to no effect save for loosening a few straps, blinded as she was by the face-mashing kiss till they eventually parted and resumed breathing.

He was taller than her to a point, and so she looked up at him while she licked her lips of his lingering saliva. Their cheeks were similarly flushed, Emilia’s looking even more so due to the contrast with her silvery hair. Chests lightly heaving from exertion, they took a moment to admire each other’s lust-addled expression.

“Why don’t you warm up the bed while I get this off of me?” Presbyter said, as he took the vambraces off of his arms.

“Hmm, alright,” Emilia hummed, taking a few steps back but not opting to sit down on bed just yet. She ran her eyes up and down her partner, appraising him in detail now that they were in a more intimate context. Presbyter was a taller man, standing at just over six feet and pleasingly so. His feats of arms at the bandit camp made his strength unquestionable, but actually seeing it as he removed his cuirass and shirt was something else. He was very well built, sporting the kind of musculature – and light scars – that one would expect from a hardened warrior of many battles. Despite herself, Emilia found her gaze lingering at the chiseled abs of his wide core, licking her lips at the sight of such health.

“What?” Presbyter’s voice brought her back to reality. He was grinning, shirt folded with his arms halfway past his firm pectorals.

“Just giving you an appraisal,” she said, coquettishly turning her cheek a bit to the side and playing a smirk about her glossy lips.

He took the shirt off fully then, giving her quite a display as his physique flexed with the movement. “And?”

She was biting her lip. “And… I like what I see. I really, really do like what I see, Presbyter.”

“Thanks,” he said, as he strode towards her, disrobed except for his pants and undergarments. “You’re beautiful, yourself.”

Emilia was good looking as only a Mamono could be. Her skin was fair and unblemished, her complexion glowing. Long, silvery hair cascaded down to the middle of her back, a silken waterfall crowned by two five-inch horns that were formed by red and black twisting into each other. Furry, bestial ears poked out where one would normally expect ears on a human would be, cutely twitching to sounds near and far.

She left her dark overcoat downstairs, leaving it to the honor of the tavern’s keeper. So what was left was the white long-sleeved shirt that she wore underneath it. Tailored specifically for her, it hugged the contours of her hourglass shape, slimming down her waist and widening to accommodate her sizable hips. Frills abounded on the garment, on the cuffs and down its center, which served to underline the size of her hand-filling breasts.

Her eyes, crimson deep, held gazes with Presbyter’s bright, blue own. They fluttered to a close as she accepted another kiss; plump, pink lips nipping on his thinner ones before the inevitable tongue-mashing. He pressed himself to her once more, and no longer burdened by plate, she could feel his rock-hard erection rubbing against her stomach through their garments. They wrapped their arms around each other, her fingertips lightly tickling his back while his went down to undo her short, grey skirt and let it fall to the floor. Two thumbs then hooked around the sides of her black thong, and a push downwards sent the juice-stained garment falling to her knees.

“My… rather impatient, aren’t we?” she whispered, breaking the kiss. Her breath was hot on his cheeks as they lingered for a moment in their close, shared space.

“I told you I’d be fucking you, didn’t I?” Presbyter said, resting his hands on her hips.

“Maybe so, but this is so… inelegant.” She circled a tickling finger around his chest. “Why don’t you let me take the reins for a bit? I can think of a better way we can do this.”

“Oh yeah? What are you gonna do?”

Emilia cocked an eyebrow up, looking a little offended. “Oh Presbyter, you should know I am not some common whore you can just pump and leave in a roadside brothel. I like to be proactive too, you know.” Her hand snaked down, the softness of her palm electric on his stomach, to gently grab his rock-hard cock through the cloth of his garments. “Mm, you’re pretty big. Just relax,” she said, eyes looking down to the visible tent on the cloth. “I’ll lavish your handsome prick with the attention it deserves.”

“Well… alright,” Presbyter said, smiling. This was certainly different. A mercenary like him whoremongered a lot, but no item of his five-coins-a-pop experience ever showed this much initiative. She gave him another kiss on the lips – just a quick one – before doing more on his neck, clavicle, chest and stomach, trailing a path of smooches down his body. By the time her pretty face was level with his crotch, she was sitting down at the end of the bed. Burying her delicate fingers into the hem of his pants and undergarments, she pulled down to let his lively manhood come springing out.

Emilia’s enchanting eyes widened appreciatively, as if enchanted themselves. “My,” she sounded, her breath lightly tickling his turgid meat. “How handsome.”

His equipment was six inches long with a girth of just over one. Definitely excited, it pointed slightly upwards, decisively unflagging in its arousal and its presence undeniable. A little drop of precum had formed at the tip of his cockhead, which she quickly swept away with her lapping tongue. Smooth and wet, she skillfully wrapped it around his crown, while she took the lower half of his shaft with her hand. Her digits lightly kneaded his tool, getting a feel for his size and weight, before beginning to pump gently. A half-suppressed sigh rolling off of Presbyter’s mouth as she took his crown with her lips elicited an amused giggle from her, which only sent pleasurable vibrations running up and down his manhood.

She moved her fingers, massaging his shaft as she let his cockhead rest on the warm bed of her tongue. She eased forward just a bit, allowing another inch of his length into her mouth which she then slathered her tongue around, coating it in her spit and spreading whatever precum that came oozing out around his bulbous crown. Once his cock was fully glazed, she returned her tongue to its place underneath his tool and began to bob her head, face canting in rhythm with her movements.

“I like this,” Presbyter said, toes wiggling from the stimulation. “Keep going.”

Emilia paused, looking up at him with eyes that just said ‘Oh, I know,’ before continuing. There was no denying her skill and eagerness. Her mouth was very welcoming. His dick was delightfully snug and hot in its embrace – and even more so when Emilia removed her hand and set off on taking even more of its length in. Meanwhile, her needy pussy was positively wet – a natural, familiar reaction from having an eager, lively cock in her mouth. A bead of fluid threatened to stream down her inner thigh – so wet was she – but instead it was spread around her fingers as she began to play with herself.

Presbyter half-moaned, half-sighed at her oral ministrations. It did not help that she was languidly feeling his muscular stomach with a sensual hand, compounding the pleasure she was giving him. And yet she had more to give. She moved herself forward, taking in as much dick as her mouth would allow, before slowly dragging back, cheeks hollowing out, as she pulled away from his member. Presbyter could not help but groan. Emilia finally let go with a loud ‘pop,’ and a streamer of spit briefly bridged the short distance between her lips and his cock before collapsing onto her chin.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” she said, looking up with a sensual expression of promise – which the simple mercenary was duly taken by.

“Uh-huh? What could that be?”

“Oh, you’ll see,” she said, smirking. “Just stay still.” Emilia retrieved her hands and placed them on his hips, as if to steady herself. He could feel her sopping wetness through the hand she’d been playing herself with. She angled herself to his tool and went in, giving his cockslit a little kiss before parting her succulent lips to accommodate his girth once more. She continued, filling her oral cavity with dick till it couldn’t be filled with any more – and so instead she started filling her throat.

“Gods,” Presbyter gasped, lolling his head back at the stimulation. She just kept on going and going, inching her head forward and determined to take in all of his dick. If she had a gag reflex, then she was easily its master as she even let out a teasing coo that rang throughout his nethers. The bicorn’s throat was tight enough, but the vibrations of her voice took it to another level. But even then she wasn’t finished, gulping down centimeter upon centimeter of unyielding cockmeat till her lips kissed the base of his groin and she couldn’t gulp any more.

There was more to do than just gulp, however. After orally taking his cock as only a monster girl could, she began to suckle, hard. With every single apparatus in her disposal – lips, cheeks, tongue, jaw and throat – she squeezed on his tool, sucking and wringing, trying as if desperately to coax the cum out of its pre-dripping end. Emilia, eyes closed, felt the two strong hands of her partner on her scalp, fingers going here and there as Presbyter played with her hair, which gave her an inward smile – clearly he was enjoying her performance, if his taken breaths and little moans were too little indication.

He was quivering, shaking ever so slightly, and she knew that he was close but he was also trying to hold the inevitable deluge back through sheer, focused will – probably to be polite, in a gentlemanly display. Although Emilia appreciated the act, bringing a man to orgasm and tasting of his delicious cum was something that she appreciated better. And so, throat muscles still massaging his iron-hard dick, she lightly shook her head from side to side, doubling the stimulus and drawing him out from his fortress of willpower. That was all that was needed. His hips tensed, his knees locked and his hands grabbed her hair just past her horns – and his cock pulsed, trembling in sheer pleasure.

“Oh, FUCK!” Presbyter grunted. It was too much. Warmth and feeling spread all throughout his loins and beyond as the force of orgasm overwhelmed him. His pent-up balls clenched once, twice – and then, through his throbbing member jetted out the creamy cum that Emilia had been waiting for. A pleased ‘Mmmm’ on her part coaxed more of the fluid as it came surging into her esophagus and right into the pit of her stomach. As the blood of succubi ran in her veins, there was little else in the world that compared to taking in semen, no matter the orifice. Familiar instincts flared up and rewarded her with a sharp sense of fullness in a way that was different to her current intake of hot cum. Her already flushed cheeks turned into two positively red beacons as she drank her fill, and down her two thighs ran streamers of her needy fluid as sudden arousal further flushed her pussy. She wanted to finger herself, she really did – but the cock she was milking would make for a better tool.

There was not a drop left of cum to spill onto her shirt or linger in her mouth when she pulled back after a time that seemed to Presbyter like an eternity. Still sucking on his meatstick throughout her withdrawal, she let go of it with a loud, punctuating ‘pop’ before gasping for air. Her chest heaved, and beads of sweat hung on her forehead, but it was clear that she was thoroughly pleased as she looked up at him with eyes that silently asked for more.

Presbyter was in a similar physical state, although more from feeling than from exertion. He had stepped back, and taken his hands off her head. His gaze came upon her open, panting mouth, and his eyes widened in amazement. A bit of awe colored the tone of his voice – “You drank it all.”

“Mhm,” she hummed, ever the smirking seductress. “So what do you think of my surprise?”

“Fucking amazing,” Presbyter said, the display of his heaving, well-built chest like art to her lust-addled eyes. “Now I know why people abandon the Order to marry with you lot.”

“And it’s a decision they never regret,” she said. “Why, Presbyter, could you be falling for me?”

The heavy question took him aback. He was silent for a moment till he grinned, realizing that she was just playing. Emilia, scion of a very well-off family – or so she said – was very clever. Just by demeanor, gesture and words alone she could undoubtedly convince a man that she was his goddess to be worshiped. Hell, if she weren’t so easy, somebody would probably have died because of her by now.

Or somebody probably already did – after all, he couldn’t claim to know the woman. He met her just how many hours ago.

“I’ll tell you later,” he said.

Her kissable lips turned down into a mock frown. “Aww, that’s no fun.”

“Pfft.” The mercenary made a dismissive gesture. “Anyway, let me repay the favor. I did say I was gonna fuck you.”

“So hard I wouldn’t be able to stand.” Emilia leaned back, canting her head in a lopsided, smiling look like only the spoiled daughter of a noble house could pull off. “That’s what you said. But can you pull it off, sir mercenary?”

He had pulled down his pants and underwear. “Well, I’m still hard,” he said, after stepping out of the crumpled heap of the two garments. “You riled me up real good. Although I’m not sure if should pay appetizer for appetizer, or just head straight for the entrée.”

Emilia let off an amused chuckle, covering her mouth all ladylike. “I’m surprised you even know that word, ‘entrée.’”

He strode towards her, fully naked now. He could feel her eyes just roaming all across his battle-hardened body, enjoying being appreciated by a woman after having no action for some time. “Commoners can know things too, my lady.” He leaned in, to give her a quick peck on the lips. “Like how to please the opposite sex, for example. Lie down.”

He took her by the shoulders and gave a playful push, sending her lying down on the tavern bed with her legs off the edge of it. “My,” she sounded, as it was his turn to admire his partner in full, his eyes roaming all over her womanly physique. She still wore her shirt, but her erect nipples were obviously poking through the cloth. “Like what you see?”

“Like what I see? Shit, you might be the sexiest girl I’ve ever undressed.”

“Is that so?” Her blush deepened. “Thank you.”

“Yep. And soon to be the sexiest girl I’ll have pleasured so far.”

He took her thong that had stalled at her knees and ran them past the furry, hoof-tipped half of her legs, removing it before throwing the garment toward the pillows at the other end of the bed. Emilia, after a bit of adjustment, spread herself wide, giving him better access and a view to die for. Her glistening, juice-oozing pussy – entirely human in appearance – was just waiting for someone to fuck it, bright pink lips slightly parted in aching anticipation and clit visibly hard in arousal. Crowning all of this were her blushing, puffy outer labia and mons – and a thin strip of neatly kept silver hair. Really, it was a sight that would drive most men mad, and send them pumping with their hips immediately. Even Presbyter was taken by its beauty, as he let off an ungraceful “Wow.”

To make things worse – or better – she moved a hand down, past her plush stomach, to dig two fingers into her outer lips, before parting them and spreading her cock-craving pussy wide for him.

Presbyter could not help but grin. What kind of man would he be, if he did not smile dumbly at such a sight?

“Please,” Emilia said, taking note of his admiring expression. “If you keep lavishing me with compliments like this, it’ll get to my head.”

“Pfft. Nonsense. I know you get attention like this all the time.”

She shook her head slightly, looking at him with a half-lidded expression, biting her lip before saying, “Oh, but very rarely from a big, strong, delicious man like yourself, Presbyter.”

Said big, strong, delicious man made a face, one that was rather unreadable except for when one looked at his eyes, which now had a certain sparkle to them. If the mercenary had some sort of secret switch, then Emilia had just flipped it over. “You wanna get fucked this badly? Fine, I’ll fuck you – and you are going to love it!”

Presbyter dove in, moving in a flash right in between her juice-stained thighs. He threw her hand that’d been spreading her pussy for him away, and in its stead came his lips as he gave her nethers a deep, sloppy kiss. The unmistakable sound of a smooch rang from Emilia’s groin before Presbyter started lashing out with his tongue. The bicorn was taken by surprise, yelping at the sudden sensations before easing out into steady moaning. Her legs tensed inward, threatening to close out of reflex, but she willed them apart in the next instant.

“Oh- oh my,” she let out, unbuttoning her frilly shirt and parting the cloth away to better grope her own tits. She let one hand massage her breast, fingers sinking into the juicy flesh just as Presbyter’s tongue sunk in between her netherlips to begin tickling her outer folds. That action caused her legs to reflexively tense inward again – but she just as quickly loosened herself back.

Presbyter was wild. Very wild. His ministrations were as if he were sloppily kissing her other, upper lips instead. His tongue dragged up her clit and parted away her labia. Her lips were pulled and tugged at by his own. All the while, he tasted of her needy juices, which were actually faintly sweet. He’d never actually performed cunnilingus before, but he was fairly certain that the candylike quality of her natural lubricant was from her monstrous pedigree and that human women universally did not have this trait – if stories of fellow but braver whoremongers, former members of his Free Company were to be believed. Whatever the truth of the matter, he lapped and slurp it all up, making a mess of things as his spit mixed into the wet sheen of her pussy.

Emilia’s breathing was drawn out and erratic. Through the thick haze of sensation, she could not help but gasp in between her moans and breathe in between those, mindful of her respiration all the way through. The mercenary had all but abandoned his senses to primal function, resolved to bury his face into her loins as he shook his head further into her. With Presbyter’s rough treatment and the sensations it entailed, she had lost room for finer dexterity and was just mindlessly kneading her tits with one hand while she rested the other on top of her partner’s head. Her thin fingers stroked his short brown hair but in a manner entirely lacking in grace.

“K-k-keep going,” Emilia stuttered, lolling er head back with half-lidded eyes, feeling the storm of orgasm welling up deep within her. Her lips hung slightly apart, letting her humid breaths in and out. The urge to gyrate her hips flared and she gave into it, gently rocking her nethers into the service of Presbyter’s juice-covered mouth. Her already opened mouth was getting wider by the second, and she let her eyes drift to a close. Her legs were tensing and she stopped playing with her breasts. She could then see the edge of the metaphorical cliff.

“I… I’m close!” she cried – and that was when Presbyter pulled away.

There was a terrible void where there was no mounting pleasure whatsoever and her senses flagged away from oh so near release. She opened her eyes, wondering what was going on – but not for long as he was upon her then, face dangerously close to hers and cockhead rubbing up her slit. He took her in a kiss just as his cock took her nethers, parting her sopping vaginals walls which immediately came clenching down on his invading prick, hard. The sudden intrusion had finally pushed Emilia over the edge.

She certainly hadn’t been expecting this, but the surprise was of the welcome sort. Sweet orgasm cascaded over the entirety of the bicorn’s being, casting her into a shivering fit as she loudly moaned her ecstasy into Presbyter’s mouth. She was positively creaming herself, squirting juice all over her partner’s pounding prick as she wrapped her legs around him tightly, hampering his ability to fuck her somewhat. Presbyter too was moaning, though not as loudly as her, taken as he was by the tightness of his partner’s clamping pussy walls as she rode out the velvet waves of multiple successive orgasms.

When the kiss parted, it was on Emilia’s initiative. Suddenly being taken in the most unexpected way on the very cusp of release was compounding her climax. It was as if a persistent lightning bolt – albeit a very pleasurable one – had struck her, and all her thoughts had left her and were elsewhere; meanwhile sheer, beautiful bliss took over their place for a moment. And as a result of this, she temporarily lost the faculties needed to sustain even a kiss, and all she could do then was bury her face and its absolutely ecstatic expression into Presbyter’s tough shoulder while otherwise embracing him with all her limbs and whatever might she could muster.

“Oh, oh, fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuck-!!” was the litany that she droned into his muscle, a long string of compliments to Presbyter’s receptive ears. He was making good on his promises, he reckoned – namely, pleasuring her. Fucking her silly would take some time and effort, but he didn’t mind, not when it felt this good.

There was no wavering in his momentum as each one of his strokes was fast and powerful. His hips slammed into hers again and again to the satisfying reverberation of loud slaps as his ever eager cock churned her juice-squirting pussy. An orchestra of splurches and squelches hung over the two as girlcum splattered all over their groins and soiled the sheets. Presbyter moved himself into the crook of her neck, dragging the length of his tongue across her sensitive, sweat-beading skin. She was just convulsing, binding herself around him with her arms and legs and around his dick with her spasming vaginal walls. And he was just absolutely relentless, pumping in and out and in and out and – oh! Emilia found her head lolling back, eyes watery from heavenly pleasure and lips open in the ‘O’ of a silent, drawn-out cry of angelic bliss – accompanied by an extreme tightening of her pussy – before just finally falling limp onto the sheets.

Presbyter stopped. How many minutes did her orgasm barrage last, he wondered? Emilia just lay there, panting with a weary but decidedly happy expression, staring at him with satisfied eyes. He took her open, huffing mouth as an invitation to kiss, so he leaned in and did so. Lips and tongue ran up against each other before the short affair ended, and the bicorn started caressing his cheek with a mildly shivering hand.

“Y-you fucking animal,” Emilia said, grinning dumbly despite her noble self. “How- how absolutely barbaric for you to take a woman like-”

“Ssh,” he said, cutting her off with a quick peck on the lips. “A massive slut like you shouldn’t be lecturing me on sexual morals.”

Her brow furrowed, and her bestial ears twitched in what seemed to be genuine offence. “How dare you-mmph!”

Presbyter interjected with a kiss that she readily melted into, canting her head and pressing her tongue towards every recess of his mouth. She retrieved her still-quivering arms to wrap them around his bulk again as she could feel him moving inside her once more. Her partner was quite resilient, she noted. It took more than just a bit of discipline for a man to keep himself from cumming when beset on all sides by tightening, climaxing bicorn pussy, especially when his refractory period appeared to be nil. Well, she didn’t mind. That just meant more fun.

The kiss ended after a time, but only grudgingly so. Their lips nipped at each other, greedy for more even at the end.

“How very rough,” Emilia cooed, simply enjoying Presbyter’s languid rolling of his cock in and out of her ever ready snatch. “I like it.”

Presbyter made a cocky, determined face. “I don’t know how much those bandits pumped into you, but- wait.” His bravado suddenly stopped, much to Emilia’s confusion.

“Yeah, where is all their cum, anyway? How come I’m not getting sloppy seconds?”

Emilia giggled. “I know I may be a ‘massive slut,’ as you so elegantly put it, but believe me or not, I have standards. As if I’d let petty criminals take my pussy. I was just feeling a bit generous and hornier than usual so I deigned to give them some oral service. We hadn’t even finished when you and your friends came in and killed them.”

“… Ah.” Presbyter nodded, after a pause.

“Only fine men may get to taste all of me, Presbyter,” she said, closing in till her breath was tickling his chin. “And let me tell you – you are a very fine man.”

And so they kissed once more, resuming the heady fuck. There were no more fancy tricks like Emilia’s superb deepthroating or Presbyter’s surprise attack. It was just a simple thrashing of the hips thereafter – the fierce thrusting of a veteran mercenary joined in tandem by the hypnotically gyrating hips of a noble bicorn in classic missionary. Midway, they took a moment to finally remove her long-sleeved shirt, tossing it away to join their other discarded garments strewn about on the floor before diving back onto the bed. Presbyter grunted, feeling climax approaching, egged on by his partner’s gladly reciprocating moans.

He was actually very surprised by the duration of her orgasms, which surmounted his refractory period. Thankfully they ended, otherwise his theatrics would have been ruined. He couldn’t last too long thereafter, not after minutes of clamping bicorn pussy coaxing his numb dick back into sensitivity. And so he bucked and bucked, faster and ever faster, ravaging Emilia till her posh facade melted away in favor for the mewling and more honest sex-crazed monster girl.

“I’m gonna cum,” he growled, as sweat flicked off his physique. Emilia was no better, looking just as desperate.

“D-Do it,” she cooed, propping herself up on her elbows to be just that closer to Presbyter’s lips. The pace was too rough to actually kiss, but that wasn’t the point. If her partner had his theatrics, she had her own, too. “Fuck me. Fuck me, Presbyter! Cum for me! Just fill me up like the whore I am.”

Heartfelt words to his ears. It was all too much. When a beautiful bicorn, big tits bouncing as you fuck her, asks for you to cum inside, there’s really only one proper answer.

“I think I will,” his voice strained, “Oh fuck – Emilia, I’m gonna cum!”

He was still pumping into her when she could feel it then – the radiating warmth of a man’s seed in her loins. His aching, needy cock throbbed and twitched, rubbing itself into her walls as it splurted out jets of cum that just positively flooded her pussy, painting everything white. The deluge of sticky alabaster then surged into the welcoming cusp of her womb. Presbyter dove in, sensation driving him mad, right into her breasts to fiercely suck on a nipple. Emilia herself renewed her arms-and-legs embrace on him, climaxing just one more time at receiving such loads of healthy seed.

Presbyter was just so passionate, she thought, as she kissed him on the neck once he’d retrieved himself from her tit. He pumped and pumped to a gradual slowness, working in tandem with her roiling tightness to milk up to the last drop of seed from his balls. Jets of cum flagged away to oozing and then to drips, filling her to the point where cream was leaking out around the seal of his dick.

They kissed again, this time more languidly than their previous affairs. When Presbyter pulled back, his eyes widened in surprise – as Emilia’s own were glowing in an illuminating red.

“Oh Presbyter,” she moaned, licking and biting her lips. “You are just so manly. Your seed is just filling me up. So… much… energy…”

“… is that a good thing?”

“Why yes – yes, it is a good thing. My,” she flushed, “what sheer health. I could get used to this. Mm… I can feel you, so warm in my womb, heating up my entire body. I love it.”

“So I’m knocking you up,” he said, matter-of-factly.

“Oh, you wish. I’m not having children yet, Presbyter. Just absorbing seed. Kids would just weigh me down on my travels, and you know me – I like to go around, looking for fun along the way.”

“No.” Presbyter shook his head, playfully grinning. “I actually don’t know you. You fucking slut.”

“I know,” she said, with coquettishly fluttering eyes. “Don’t hate me for it.”

“I wouldn’t be fucking you if I hated for you it.” He kissed her again. “Still up for another round?”

Oh, was she ever. With her womb absorbing such a hefty amount of virile cum, sexual energy just bubbled up from the deepest recesses of her very soul, washing away most of her fatigue and redoubling her desire for more. She sat up, cock still snug in her pussy, to give her answer in the form of an energetic, slobbering kiss. Her assault was forward and frantic, and wrapped her arms around his neck to better facilitate her oral assault. Presbyter, despite his experience in holding lines, found himself being pushed back, the fight being taken to his mouth instead of hers. It was Emilia’s turn to be unrelenting, apparently, as she did not let up. It was easily the longest, sloppiest kiss he’d ever experienced, interspersed with little moments when their laboring lungs would steal breaths off the other’s cheeks.

“Am I up for another round?” she echoed, pulling away a sweat-matted lock of hair from her forehead. “Oh, I definitely am. The question is, are you?”

Presbyter put up a cocky smile, staring defiantly into Emilia’s glowing, red eyes as he laid down and she began to gyrate her hips.

“Hell yeah, I am.”

The next seven hours were just nothing but constant sex. If Emilia wasn’t riding him, then Presbyter would be the one pumping in either classic missionary or doggystyle. If she wasn’t getting penetrated, then she’d be on her knees, using her exquisite mouth on her partner while he rested a bit. He held fast and strong, much to her delight, as day turned to night and they were still at it. The moon’s cratered face shone silver light through the blinders, casting a few rays that illuminated Emilia’s yet climaxing features in the otherwise dimly lit room. There was simply no time to light all the lamps when a horny bicorn and a strong man determined not to lose were getting at it.

Presbyter grunted, squeezing a handful of asscheek as his agonized expression shifted to one of sweet release. He was cumming again – and probably for the last time that night – as he took his eager partner from behind. Muscles straining, he gave Emilia a powerful thrust to underline the end of the whole ordeal. Pathetic tiddlywinks of mostly clear fluid trickled out of his abused cockslit, mixing into the sloppy mess of cum and juice that’d been lubricating her pussy for hours.

He withdrew from her, groaning. His aching cockhead brushed her gaping, twitching lips one last time before fluid came oozing out, to further dirty the sheets and sully her thighs. It was a pathetic sight compared to the grand spill-outs of the first few orgasms when he filled her up to the brim, but this was as good a conclusion as any, he reckoned.

“Okay… okay…! I’m done… I’m finished…”

Presbyter stood a bit shakily, and he stood only because of his sheer battle experience. Were he any lesser of a man, he was sure to have fallen by now.

Emilia picked her face up off of the drool-soaked pillow she’d been hugging, turning her gaze back to look just slightly wearily at her partner.

“Are you?” she breathed. “Are you sure you don’t have any left for one more?”

Presbyter licked his drying lips, shaking his head. “Nope. Nope, no more. I’m done.”

“Aww,” she cooed, turning face-up to give her partner a better look of her sweaty, soiled body, idly rubbing her stomach with one hand while the other lay limp next to her satisfied face. “Well, you lasted very long with no assistance whatsoever, so I’m happy with that. Still, if we were in my family’s manor at Fordhaus, I could use the alchemical lab there to whip up a potion that’ll have us rutting for a whole day or more.”

“That sounds… really unhealthy,” Presbyter said, as he joined her on the bed. He sighed, happily sinking into the yielding softness of the mattress.

“Hmm… maybe for you fragile humans. But the more sexual energy we monsters get, the better. We could even subsist on sex alone, ignoring food and water altogether. But I’m sure you already know all of this.”

She spoke again, before he could reply, casting her fiercely glowing eyes across her cum-caked abdomen. “Mmm… you filled me up to the brim. You put up an amazing performance today, Presbyter.” She swung her two shining irises to look at him now. “I could fall in love with your dick.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have been taken aback by her post-coital aggressiveness, but he was, regardless. “Your uh… you feel really good too. Hell, the best I’ve ever had. Not even the most expensive whore in these lands compares to you. You’re Queen, as far as I’m concerned.” He gave her a thumbs up.

Emilia chuckled at the silly gesture. “Thank you. By the way, I think it’s time that you answered me.”

“Huh?”

“You promised me earlier,” she shifted, moving close to him and putting a teasing palm on his sweaty abs, “that you’d tell me whether you were falling for me or not. So, what’s the verdict, hm?”

Ever the tease, this woman. Unfortunately, Presbyter was either too tired to play or just mistook her as being sincere. Either way, his reply was short and to the point.

“No. I mean, you’re a great fuck and all, but love – I don’t know, it’s not for fighting men like me. Also hard to fall in-love with a slut who can’t say no to a happy dick.”

She gave his pec a slap.

“Ow, what was that for?”

“Hmph, whatever,” she said, rolling her eyes. She scooted over then, resting her head on his chest. “You’re lucky you have such a nice cock, otherwise I’d actually be angry.”

He started playing with her ruffled hair. “You can be angry all you like, my lady. Just let it out by riding on my ‘nice cock.

She looked up at him with hopeful eyes. “Ooh. Does that mean you’re up for one more round?”

“No. Get back here,” he said, throwing an arm around her and pulling her giggling self close. Even a girl like her couldn’t help but feel warm and protected in the mercenary’s firm embrace.

“Thank you, Presbyter,” she mumbled into his chest. He let out a drowsy acknowledgment before they slowly drifted off to sleep.

And so they were two outcasts – naked, reeking of sex and surrounded by discarded garments, but thoroughly, undeniably content as she breathed onto his chest, and him onto her hair. Their slumber was dreamless and peaceful.


PRESBYTER’S STATS AT TIME OF WRITING – DnD5e

LEVEL 3 FIGHTER, CHAMPION ARCHETYPE

STR 18
DEX 15
CON 16
INT 11
WIS 12
CHA 13
Max HP: 31
Longsword 1d8/1d10 Slashing, Versatile
Presbyter’s Mace 1d6 Bludgeoning
Shortsword 1d4 Slashing

Gothic Half-Plate AC 15
Infantry Shield AC 2
Improved Critical
Charger

LackingFairGoodExcellentPerfect (7 votes, average: 4.14 out of 5)
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2 thoughts on “Bicorn Shagging – 6,000 Words of Nonstop Smut”

  1. Typo:

    >opting to sit down on bed

    “Also hard to fall in-love with a slut who can’t say no to a happy dick”

    rude

    Why does your DM hate bicorns? They aren’t sluts – they only have their one husband – but they turn their husbands into sluts.

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