In the underground room beneath the most important building of the Garsans frontline camp led by Ezof Frose, explicit smells and sounds were intermingling.
When it was over and the peak of the soft protrusion that had been produced out of excitement was taken back from Lucas' mouth as it had lost most of its volume with its content having been emptied into the latter's stomach, the last maid that was ending the session with her turn stood up, letting out a *plop* due to the strong grip below.
As the usual cleaning was going on, a maid he didn't bother to remember the name of asked:
"My Lady, are we really not going with the rest of the army?"
"No. Do you think I delegated most of my authority during this time to stop my plans just because of a well?"
"You are right, my Lady. But it's been a while and there's been no success. Can the alien not conceive or are we doing it the wrong way?"
