I spent two hours making myself a portal from an old Alkandran ruin the Highlanders had repurposed as a marker stone, then I broke half of it off, and teleported to Glacier blowjob Lake. I sent ten ethereal owls out, teen and waited until noon for the chieftains to congregate at Gorlok’s steading. Gorlok was obviously already there, but of the other ten, only Balktar, Kanglar, Draifak and Vaklori showed up. It would have to be enough. Before any of them could open their mouths, I told them that Brock had conquered the Maples, Yavara had captured Castle Thorum, and oh yeah, there was a massive army only eleven days oral away ready close up to massacre the lot of them. I dropped the other half of the stone on the table, and informed them that the election for Froktora would be that night at Castle Thorum. Then I left the slack-jawed chieftains without a word, tossed my staff onto the ground, and transformed into a great eagle. Picking my staff up with my talons, I launched into the air. After flying for half an hour, I came upon an old citadel, the only discernable piece left of it being the gothic arch that once vaulted the atrium. I landed upon the apex stone of that arch, and transported once more. I was atop a hill. It was further south than Glacier Lake, as evidenced by the trees, but not much further south, for the trees were squat conifers barely taller than a child. I peered over them, and cumshot my vision was filled with motion. The Highland army was like a river of color, the golden helms reflecting the afternoon sun, the myriad banners forming a flowing tapestry over them. I had seen armies like it before, but not since the days of the old empire. It was vast, and blanketed hills and valleys, kicking up a cloud of dust that drifted in its wake. I dropped to the earth, and transformed once again. This time, I was a high-elf man of middle years, scarred and balding, the picture of a disgruntled career military man. I cast an illusion of uniform over me, turned my staff into a pike, and strode down the hillside. In my experience with military men, the worst were low-level officers. Being the bridge between enlisted footmen and high-ranking noblemen meant everyone hated them, and they hated everyone. So it didn’t surprise me that a red-faced captain came sprinting after me when I emerged from the brush. “Oi, you having a wank in the shrubs? What is your outfit?” He demanded in a thick northern accent. This left one button holding her dress closed. I had dressed her demurely in a blue and grey teen skirt-blouse combination. I quickly found the right close up place moved the head of my penis to her entrance. "Wow this looks great thank you. Layla’s bottom lip quivered, and so did her voice. You aren't looking at my face, so you know what pair I'm talking about." I lean over and give her a kiss and a nice big romantic hug, which the other nurses were watching us closely. My pussy dripped with excitement. "So who took the picture Brian?" asked Jerry. He wanted to know if I had any regrets cumshot about the previous evening or if my feelings blowjob towards him oral had changed. She stands there not turning around for a couple of moments.