<3 - Frustration> Her hands dared to press down upon his bare chest, and she carefully began to rock her hips back and forth atop him. Her folds coated her father’s cock with her sweet, sticky nectar, and each pass pulled another glob of his precum into the mixture. Time became meaningless to the lust-filled Chela. She knew not how long she stayed there, grinding down upon her own father’s cock. But all that mattered in that moment was the sweet, sweet release that she so dearly craved, whether she would admit it to herself or not. The heat in her loins grew hotter and hotter. Her face flushed with desire, and both her and her father were a mess below the waist. A sharp gasp and a deep-seated moan fled from her lips as her climax ripped through her soft body… ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ … and again, she awoke, still laying where she had fallen asleep, still fully dressed, and still as hot and bothered as she had been before. * * * * * Blud awoke not long afterward, and the two of them worked through a quick breakfast before packing up camp. Chela’s mind was now thoroughly fixated on her intense dreams, and while she said nothing about it outwardly, it was obvious that something was going on to the keen observer. ”Chela,” her father rumbled as they were about to make for the cliffs. “Something is off. Are you feeling alright?” Chela grimaced. “Just another dream is all.” ”The same one?” ”Not… exactly.” Blud chose his next words carefully. “Well, we can talk about it if you like. Or don’t. The spirits use your dreams to communicate with you. If these invoke strong feelings, they are likely important.” The words danced on the tip of her tongue, tempted to tell her father about them. “They’re just… ugh, maybe after the swim.” ”Very well,” was all he could say. A short, steep path down the cliff led to the massive expanse of water that had flooded the once-empty Thousand Needles. Chela eyed the water with obvious distaste. “Is this our only option? Must we-“ The words caught in her throat as she turned to her father, who was already stepping out of his kilt. “We must. I will be right next to you, alright?” ”Y-yeah,” she said and swallowed hard, struggling not to start staring again. The elder orc took his beaded kilt and wrapped it around one forearm. “What’s… what’s that for, exactly?” ”Water resistance. Kilts drag, but this will reduce how much we fight the water. You will wear out too soon if you leave it be,” he stated matter-of-factly. ”Fiiiiine,” she conceded and quickly wiggled her kilt down over her wide hips to tie it clumsily around one forearm. Blud shook his head. “No, no, no. Like this.” The practically naked orc stepped toward his daughter and untied her kilt, then began to wrap it much more neatly around her arm… … all while Chela’s face could have melted a bar of iron, particularly when her father’s manhood nonchalantly grazed her left hip. When he’d finished, the shamaness uttered a sheepish “Thank you,” then immediately dived into the water just to avoid any further awkwardness. Blud’s chest swelled with a bit of pride at her burst of ambition, then dived right in after her. If there was one thing Chela [i]was[/i] physically capable of, it was swimming, even if she vastly preferred shallow swimming holes over a makeshift sea. Her limbs moved more gracefully through the water than Blud’s, but her father was strong and driven, able to keep up with her without much difficulty. The water was colder than they’d expected, but it was not unwelcome with how hot and humid the air around them was. The humidity only grew worse the further westward they swam. Morning and midday flew by, neither of them stopping for much longer than a few minutes of treading water. The sun had just begun to set when Chela pulled herself up out of the water onto a meager beach at the eastern edge of Feralas. She turned and offered a hand to her father, who gladly accepted the aid. Both orcs drew deep breaths for a few minutes, then looked at each other and laughed proudly. “Well done!” Blud chirped and clapped his daughter on the shoulder. “I had no doubts!” ”Thank you, Father,” she returned and blushed softly. “I would not have lasted without your encouragement.” Blud beamed. “I think you could’ve done it… though you could have made it easier on yourself, too.” Chela cocked a curious eyebrow. “Huh?” Her father pointed at her abdomen. “Water resistance there, too.” The shaman looked down, and once again froze. Her tube-like top of beads and fabric had slid down off her chest and caught on her wide hips during the swim. “How long was I like this!?” She cried. ”About from the time you dived into the water,” he added with a laugh and began building a fire pit, along with a line between two trees where he hung his unwound, beaded kilt. “I didn’t want to say anything and ruin your rhythm while we were swimming.” Chela wanted to melt, and without thinking she threw an arm over her exposed, pine green nipples and began to fumble with her belt-like top. Blud turned around to see her covering herself. His arms folded over his bare chest, and he set a firm gaze upon her. “Alright, what’s going on, Re’ka?” The shamaness hardened her own gaze this time, feeling more flustered than ever. “Nothing’s going on! What are you on my case for, anyway?!” ”I have never in my life known you to act so… [i]modest[/i],” he stated outright. “I have tried to give you space these past few days, but you’ve been acting... distant, different, something!- to me lately, and I would like to know [i]why[/i].” Chela grimaced. “It’s nothing!” ”It’s [i]not[/i] nothing!” Blud shot back. “Chela, this is a critical moment for you as a shaman. None of us, save for the first of us, managed to complete it alone. I am here to [i]help[/i] you, but I can’t if you won’t talk to me!”