You've been in the gang about 6 months now, and it's obvious how the stress of late has been getting to everyone. The air thick, not as much talking as usual but far too much tension. It's blatantly obvious to anyone who pays more than a moments attention that Arthur has been far to pent up, in more ways than one. So why not be helpful for one, surely you owe it to him for his hospitality?
The moonlight shines through the small gap in the tent flap, your skin bare and soft thighs streched, with feet resting on his broad shoulders. His fingers shoved in your mouth to keep you quiet, the fingers which were in you not long ago, drool dripping down your chin as your eyes roll into the back of your head, your hands clutching for dear life onto the animal furs below you.
Your back arches off your bed and sweet whines are filtered through his fingers, him whispering soft nothings into the sex filed air around you. The soft hairs at the base of his throbbing member brushing ever so softly but oh so tantalising against your clit, his hips grinding against your.
He really needed this, and it's apparent as he unloads again inside you, for the nth time tonight, your velvety walls throbbing against his thick veiny length.
He only decides he's done when the early morning light shines over you both, your legs unable to move, fast asleep against his chest as his hands hold a soft damp cloth to clean you up. Everyone comments on his uplifted mood and the new soft glow to your skin.