By the time the trio sweeps into Faendal's house, Camilla is pulling at the elf's shirt and breathing heavily. She kisses him roughly. He smells like mill and the forest—oh, how she has missed him!

When Sven's hands sneak their way down her lower back, her lips curve into a smile mid-kiss. She arcs her back, tipping her ass into the bard's open hands.

Faendal breaks the kiss, only to press his hot, wet lips against Camilla's throat. Camilla gasps and leans into his embrace. Now she is sandwiched between them, and—wonder of wonders—neither of them seem to mind it. In fact, their heads nearly touch as Sven wraps his arms around Camilla's waist and draws her close to him.

Sven nibbles Camilla's ear, and she moans a little, rocking her hips against his. He runs his hands down her legs, bends, and inserts them beneath the hem of her dress. Her legs are silky smooth—it would seem that the minx has borrowed her brother's razor again.

Sven grins and pulls the skirt up and up and up until he can see Camilla's panties in the flickering firelight. They are fringed with lace. Mid-kiss with Faendal, she moans as Sven's hands worm their way beneath the delicate fabric.

"S-Sven," she moans into Faendal's mouth. Faendal tenses. He bites her lower lip, as though to reclaim her attention, and she yowls sharply, tasting her own blood.

Suddenly her eyes darken and she pushes the elf away. With a wicked smile pulling at the corners of her lips, she whirls around and crushes her mouth to Sven's. She strokes the hard bulge beneath his trousers and he thrusts into her hands, a dreamy sort of vagueness stealing over his face. Faendal puts his hands on Camilla's back, but she moves away, still smiling beneath Sven's kisses, which grow more frantic as her strokes grow harder and closer together.

Faendal is angry. He grabs Camilla by the shoulders and yanks her away from Sven. Pushing her against the wall, he kisses so hard that his teeth cut into the inside of his lips. He crushes her beneath him, savoring the thrill that sings up his spine when his groin comes in contact with her pubic bone. Suddenly she lifts her legs and wraps them around his thighs. She begins to grind against his erection, and he breaks their kiss, gasping.

Suddenly Faendal feels a hand on his shoulder. It's Sven's. He yanks the elf away from Camilla, and she stumbles to the floor, crying out in protest.

Faendal whirls around, eyes flashing. He tries to sink a fist into the Nord's gut, but Sven moves away just in time. Sven is reaching for his dagger when Camilla springs between them, looking fierce.

"I thought you two 'came to an understanding,'" she says, still breathing heavily. Her eyes flash dangerously. "Or didn't you?"

Sven and Faendal both stare at her, red-faced with sudden fury. Faendal is the first to cool, his lips coming together in a thin, hard line. "We—we did. But he—"

"You did it first!" Sven bursts out angrily.

"Stop," Camilla says firmly. Her thin, dark eyebrows are dangerously close together now. "I'll leave; I swear to Stendarr, I will."

"No," Faendal says quickly, desperately. "Camilla, stay. We'll do anything you want."

Bemused, Camilla looks at Sven. He has replaced his surly, aggressive scowl with a smile that does not quite touch his eyes.

Suddenly she understands. Once she starts to laugh she can't seem to stop; her shoulders heave and she pounds the wall with her fist. They'd planned the whole thing—both of them. She should have known.

"Best buds after all then?" she finally says. Her laughter subsides, leaving a dark smile on her angular face, not unlike the smile of a particularly cunning dragon. "Well in that case, I have a… favor… to ask."

Sven and Faendal exchange a nervous glance.

"Certainly, Camilla," Faendal murmurs.

"Anything," Sven agrees, not to be outdone.

Camilla's wicked little smirk widens. "Kiss for me."

Faendal's one room cottage is silent for a long moment. Sven's ensuing swallow is as loud as a clap of thunder.

"No," they say in unison.

Camilla raises her voice in feigned surprise. "Oh—but I thought—since you understood each other so well—"

"Camilla..."

"—and you did say you'd do anything, after all."

Sven and Faendal are cringing away from one another. This is worse than either of them ever could have imagined—Sven privately thinks that he would rather lose his soul to Sithis than put his mouth anywhere near that elf's.

"Camilla…"

"Now." Camilla's eyes flash. Then she smiles sweetly. "I don't see what you're worried about, since you're such good friends and all."

Sven and Faendal look at each other. Faendal shakes his head. "We might as well get it over with…" he sighs.

Sven tries not to step away as the elf approaches him. He closes his eyes and balls his hands into fists at his side—

Lips brush against his and are gone. Sven opens his eyes in relief.

A soft laugh comes from the other side of the room. Camilla is perched atop Faendal's bed, smirking. "I take it you want me to leave, then?"

Faendal gapes at her disbelievingly. "Camilla—"

"If you want me to stay, you'll make me believe that you two have actually made amends," she says darkly. Her smile suddenly widens and she pulls her skirt up around her hips. Hooking her panties with one finger, she leans back and draws them down her legs and over her knees. Her bare pussy gleams in the firelight as she settles back, legs spread wide. She begins to rotate her clit with one finger.

"Now kiss," she commands, her cheeks flushed with anticipation.

Sven and Faendal can only stare at her with wide eyes. Sven swallows and his Adam's apple bobs dramatically.

Tentatively, Faendal turns to Sven. He knows that when Camilla turns dark and sensual like this there's no talking her out of anything. He remembers the time when she insisted upon shoving a greased sword handle up his ass. He could hardly walk the next day.

He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and pulls Sven in for a kiss. Sven is as stiff as a piece of wood and his lips are stone. Nord and elf stand there for a long moment, trying not to think and trying not to feel.

From the opposite end of the room come the squelchy sounds of Camilla pleasuring herself. "More," she croons.

Sven opens his eyes to take a peek at her, and what he sees makes him moan. She has broken out in a sweat and her plump, cinnamon-colored thighs gleam as two fingers plunge in and out of her pussy. She bites her lip and rolls her hips against her hand.

Seeing her condition loosens Sven up a bit. He kisses Faendal back, though he is all too aware of the elf's stubbly chin and broad, flat chest against his own. Ugh. Yet a soft, breathy moan from Camilla inspires him to grab the elf's ass in his hands.

Faendal flinches, but doesn't break the kiss. He also seems to sense how much Camilla is enjoying herself, and begins to grind on Sven's erection with his own.

"Undress each other," Camilla breathes. Her lips are slightly parted, her eyes glazed.

Sven feels like objecting, but Faendal grabs the front of his vest and pulls at the laces until they come undone. Sven stands unmoving as Faendal pulls the vest from his shoulders and unbuttons his shirt. Part of him wants to punch Faendal. But another part of him notes that the elf's deft little fingers feel… nice… against his bare skin…

Before long, elf and Nord stand before each other, naked. Both appear confused as to how they ended up that way.

At the sight of their bare cocks pointing up at one another, Camilla moans and begins to grind her clit with the base of her hand. "Keep going," she says. There is a pleading note in her voice now.

Faendal smirks. It's so like Camilla to be turned on, rather than off, by her lovers making love. He strokes Sven's cock with his fingers; it's hard and damp and sticky. At first Sven scowls and pulls away, but when Faendal wraps his hand around the base of Sven's cock and gives it a knowing squeeze, the Nord can't help but close his eyes with pleasure.

Suddenly Faendal stops, walks over to the cupboard, and opens it. He pulls out small bottle, uncorks it, and pours a golden liquid into the palm of his hand.

"What's that?" Camilla slurs.

Faendal smiles at her indulgently. "Jazbay oil," he says. "Relax, pet."

Camilla smiles back and slumps against his pillows, her gaze fixed on Sven and Faendal's naked bodies.

Faendal grabs Sven's cock, drenching it in oil. Sven closes his eyes as the elf begins to work him slowly, expertly. He tries to imagine that it's Camilla's hand instead, but the fingers are far too long, the skin far too rough. Oddly enough, it doesn't bother him much. Faendal presses the tip of Sven's cock with his thumb.

Sven shudders. He reaches for the bottle and pours a bit of oil into his own hand. Then, trying not to think about it too much, he grabs Faendal's cock. It's not quite as thick as his own, but it's longer.

Elf and Nord jerk one another in unison, trying not to make eye contact. Eventually they turn their gaze to Camilla.

Her dress and corset lie in a crumpled heap on the floor. She is stretched across the bed, naked and gleaming. Her breathing gets heavier until each exhale turns into a soft little cry, and she slumps to the bed, gasping, her fingers making frantic, wet pattering sounds against her clit. She gyrates against her hand for a moment, moaning deeply. After a while her whole body relaxes. "Mmmmmmm," she sighs, lips parted, eyes closed.

Sven can't seem to contain himself any longer; he reaches the bed in two long strides and bends over Camilla's bare legs, trailing kisses up her thigh. "Camilla," he croons. "Camilla…"

Faendal comes over too. "Was that nice?" he asks, smirking.

Camilla sits up, her face flushed and damp with perspiration. "Get over here, elf," she says in a low, breathy voice, and suddenly she is on her feet, grabbing Faendal by the arms, leaning into his long, sinewy body. Sven comes up behind her, his cock sliding between her buttocks, and wraps his arms around them both. Camilla sighs and relaxes against them as they trail hot, wet kisses down either side of her body.

"See," she breathes. "Isn't this lovely?"

Sandwiched between their bodies, she stands on tip-toe to allow their cocks to slide between her legs. She rocks gently back and forth, savoring the feeling of two hard, oily, warm cocks against her clit and anus. Faendal buries his face between her breasts, kissing them and nibbling at her nipples, while Sven runs the tip of his tongue up her back and kisses her neck.

Faendal and Sven notice when their cocks brush up against one another between Camilla's legs, but it doesn't stop them from thrusting gently. Camilla is very wet now, dripping down on their cocks. Somehow the additional wetness seems to belong to all three of them, and the boundaries between them crumble.

Abruptly Camilla turns around, looks Sven in the eye, and pushes him back towards the bed. He doesn't know what she has in mind, but he grins good-naturedly and allows her to press him down on his back.

Camilla climbs on top of him, straddling his hips. She is all anticipation, her cheeks flushed, her eyes alight. She positions herself over the tip of his cock, then eases onto it.

"Oh," she says softly. "Oh." She leans over him, twisting her shoulders back and forth so that her breasts bounce tantalizingly. Grinning, Sven takes one of them in his mouth and begins to suck. He thrusts gently; the bouncing motion makes Camilla's free tit slap his sweaty face repeatedly.

Meanwhile, Faendal climbs up on the bed behind her, kneeling. He has retrieved the bottle of Jazbay oil. After pouring a generous amount of it into his hand, he slaps it onto Camilla's soft, round ass and rubs it in, savoring the satiny smoothness of her skin. Then he bends over, pulls her cheeks apart, and traces her asshole with the tip of his tongue.

Sven begins to thrust harder, and Faendal's tongue is jarred out of position. Leaning back, he applies more oil to his fingertip and warns Sven to be still by placing his other hand on his leg. Then, leaning over Camilla and kissing her lower back, he touches her asshole with his finger, smearing the oil all over it.

Camilla sticks her ass out, making it more accessible to Faendal as he positions himself behind her. Gently, he presses the tip of his cock into her asshole. As he slides inside her, she gasps. The sensation is indescribable; she can feel the combined pressure of both cocks as they squeeze down against one another.

As Faendal and Sven begin to thrust against each other, Camilla's insides squirm—the sensation is foreign, but undoubtedly pleasurable. The pleasure builds and builds until she is clawing at the bed, moaning—she is desperate for release. The squelching of both cocks, plunging in and out of her body, pounding against her insides becomes too much for her and—

"Ohhhhhh," she cries, "Oh!"

This orgasm is different. It is frantic, writhing, and sweet. Overwhelming pleasure sweeps down to her toes and back, enveloping her in warmth and bliss. She's in a different world, yet she's hyperaware of Faendal's heavy body on top of her as he leans over, fucking her harder, grinding her insides against the walls of her snatch—she cries out loudly and falls upon Sven, unable to breathe. Her frantic contractions grip Sven so hard that he groans and buries himself deep inside of her, eyes wide, thrusting as hard as he can. He cums harder than he's ever cum, exploding inside of her with incredible force.

He groans a long, drawn out, animal groan, then slumps to the bed.

"Ahhhhhh," Camilla sighs. "Svenny came."

Faendal pulls out of Camilla's ass, smiling smugly. "Typical Nord."

Camilla smiles slowly, dazedly. She props herself up on her hands and knees. "Climb out now, Svenny," she says with a giggle. "You're all done."

Sven is far from chagrined, however. He slides out from beneath Camilla, turns around, and slides back underneath her, head-first. "Get that pussy down here," he purrs, orienting his head beneath her hips.

Camilla's satisfied smirk vanishes. She spreads her legs and lowers herself down. Sven gives her pussy a long, wet lick. She shivers with delight as his lips clamp down on her clit and his tongue rotates its head.

"N-Now fuck my ass, elf," she stammers.

Grinning, Faendal complies. The sight of Sven's mouth on Camilla's pussy, just beneath his cock, turns him on more than ever. He thrusts gently at first—then harder. The bottoms of his balls brush Sven's forehead, while oil from Camilla's asshole splashes on the Nord's face.

"Oh," Camilla cries, "oh!"

Faendal plunges into her. Camilla is no stranger to ass-fucking, so the elf leans over her back, drilling into her with everything he's got. Her round little ass bounces with each thrust, flashing with oil and sweat. Shallow breaths come through her gritted teeth. She cries out as Sven gives her clit a gentle nip.

"I'm gonna… I'm gonna," Faendal says.

"Wait," Camilla murmurs, pulling away from him. She smiles, then ducks her head and peers down the tunnel separating her body from Sven's. "Cum on both of us. I wanna see…"

Unable to hold himself back any longer, Faendal pulls out of Camilla and cums all over her asshole. Pleasure rips through pelvic region and up his spine—his toes curl in and out but he doesn't make a sound.

The cum runs down Camilla's snatch and drips onto Sven's face. Smiling lightly, Sven licks at a drop near the corner of his mouth, all too aware that Camilla is watching. She moans loudly and Sven slams his face into her snatch, pressing down on her clit with chin and inserting his tongue into her snatch.

Yet again she cries out, arcing her back and thrusting her ass out. Faendal grabs it and smatters it with kisses while Sven rotates his head.

"Ohhhhhhhh!" she shouts, "OH!"

After a moment, her rigid body goes limp and she slumps down on top of Sven, gasping for breath. Faendal falls on top of her, nestling his face into her back. Nobody says anything for several minutes, but the dimly lit room is filled with the sound of their heavy breathing.

Finally Sven says, "Uh, guys? I'm kinda squished down here."

Laughing, Camilla and Faendal extricate themselves. Faendal gives a Camilla a kiss across Sven's body, which Camilla passes on to Sven, bending over him and stroking his cheek with one hand.

Suddenly, there is a knock at the door.

Faendal's eyes widen with panic. He looks at Camilla. An unpleasant suspicion grips both of them simultaneously. Lucan!

"Under, the bed, quick!" Faendal hisses, springing to his feet, seizing Sven and Camilla's clothes, and throwing them at them. He leaps into his trousers and shirt as fast as he can. Meanwhile, Camilla and Sven drop to the floor and slide out of sight beneath the bed, dragging their clothes with them.

Breathing heavily, Faendal walks over to the door. What is he going to do? If Lucan thinks that Camilla is over here, he will surely storm across the threshold and search the house. And when he finds her—

Another knock rings out.

"Open it, Faendal," comes Sven's muffled voice from beneath the bed. "If it's Lucan, you can tell him Camilla's with me. He'll believe you; my mother will have told him I'm not home."

Even amid his panic, Faendal feels a rush of warmth toward the Nord. He smiles in spite of himself, takes a deep breath, and yanks the door open.

A woman stands on the porch. She wears a strange assortment of leather and steel armor. Though a mage's hood covers the top half of her face, Faendal recognizes her immediately.

"You!" he yelps. "What in the world are you doing here?"

She peers up at him from beneath the hood. Speaking in a low, soft voice, as though afraid of being overheard, she says, "I wanted to… apologize."

Faendal gapes at her.

"For ratting you out," she adds when Faendal doesn't say anything. "You know… to the shopkeeper's sister. I was in town and I thought I'd just…"

Faendal is silent. He contemplates the woman for a long moment, as though deciding how to react. She is afraid that he is going to hit her until a slow smile begins to spread across his face.

"Oh, that won't be necessary," he says with a laugh. "Not necessary at all." He leans forward and gives the woman a swift peck on the cheek.

Then, chortling, he slams the door in her face.