Village Head's Debauchery

“Sorry, Orion,” Lyra said with a slightly embarrassed tone. I couldn’t help but notice that the left side of her nipple had become exposed from beneath her tulga top, likely a consequence of her vigorous movements during the argument.

Before Lyra could fully express her remorse, Fifi emerged from the hut, casting us an irritated look. She closed the door behind her, presumably to muffle the noise we had been generating. As she approached us, her expression was clouded with a clear disapproval of the situation.

“What’s all this commotion about?” Fifi’s voice carried a blend of annoyance and concern as she confronted us, coming to a halt in front of us. Her gaze shifted between Lyra and Grandma Ingrid, both of whom were still appearing contrite and avoiding eye contact.

“You two,” Fifi continued with a heavy sigh, her fingers automatically finding their way into her smooth long black hair, combing through it in frustration. “What am I going to do with the two of you?”

I arched an eyebrow at Fifi’s words, sensing that there was some underlying tension between Lyra and Grandma Ingrid that I had been oblivious to. My brow furrowed in confusion, though, as I pondered how such a situation could have escalated in just one day since Lyra and Ursa had arrived.

Shifting my gaze towards Fifi, I directed my question to her, seeking clarity. “Fifi, could you please fill me in on what’s been going on between the two of them?” As I spoke, Grandma Ingrid appeared ready to speak up, but I raised my hand to gently signal her to hold off. I wanted to hear Fifi’s perspective first, hoping for an unbiased account of the situation before delving into the versions presented by both parties.

Fifi nodded in understanding, a faint blush gracing her cheeks when I used her other name. She soon regained her composure and began to explain, painting a vivid picture of the events that had led to the drama between the two.

She started by recounting how Grandma Ingrid had unintentionally closed the door on Lyra and Ursa when they first arrived. Mistaking them for part of the healers working under Aunt Greta, who had informed them about the herbs for their pregnancies, so Grandma Ingrid had gone to alert Greta about their presence.

Lyra, however, had interpreted this action as a sign of disgust towards her two large breasts. Finding it ironic because Grandma Ingrid herself was endowed similarly, and was not making an effort to fully cover her body like Grandma Derry did, Lyra sarcastically remarked on Grandma Ingrid’s attitude when she discovered that both she and Ingrid were pregnant with my child. .

Aunt Greta and my mother intervened, attempting to clarify the misunderstanding and welcome Lyra especially since they and everyone else present were also pregnant. But the situation had spiralled beyond control, with Fiona, Meldra, and Ayla joining forces with Aunt Greta to quell the escalating argument. The exchange between Lyra and Grandma Ingrid had quickly turned into a volley of harsh, unfiltered insults.

The insults they hurled at each other made my ears cringe the instant I heard the words they had used.

If I hadn’t just heard this, I might have believed that some of the insults back on Earth were too harsh. A deep sigh left my lips as I recentered my attention on both of them, watching as they lowered their heads further, their chins almost touching their bodies.

Sura, in the meantime, began to gently rub my arm, her touch providing a soothing massage as if she were coaxing me to take it easy on them.

I turned my head to towards her and gently locked her nose between my two knuckles, I rubbed her cheek playful at her gesture, understanding that Sura would never support or be part of such an action. Sura chuckled at my actions, before massaging my arm with more force, as I focused my attention back on the two women and said, “Now you two can go on and tell me what really happened. I want to hear your side of the story?”.

Lyra immediately beat Ingrid as she opened her mouth first and began to explain. Once she was done, I shifted my attention to Grandma Ingrid as she continued by telling me her own part of the story.

After they were done, I consistently released tired exhales while simultaneously shaking my head at them to show them how disappointing I was at them, and at their decisions.

Directing my gaze back at them after one last sigh, I said, “Both of you should squat.”

They both stared at me, their surprise apparent, prompting me to add, “Do I need to repeat myself, or did you not hear me correctly?” A frown etched itself onto my face as my words entered their ears.

I felt a pressing need to address this issue quickly and make sure that it was never repeated. I knew that things could escalate quickly if their argument turned physical.

Moreover, I was the one who wanted a group of beautiful, bountiful, and voluptuous women around me to fully cherish my new life in this new world. So, I needed to handle it as reasonably as I could to prevent it from happening again.

Upon hearing my stern words and seeing my frown, their countenances quickly dimmed. They obediently assumed the squatting position, though it seemed a tad challenging for them to maintain their balance, perhaps due to their well-endowed fuckable figures.

My gaze shifted to Lyra, and I couldn’t help but notice her beautiful fully exposed thighs as her tulga had ridden up to her back. The curve of her hip was visible, and she widened her legs slightly to steady herself, placing her arms on her lap to maintain her balance and prevent any trembling while in the squatting position.

Taking a glance at the exposed outline of Lyra’s pussy, before shifting my gaze to Grandma Ingrid’s squatting form, I quickly noticed that her simple mini gown had ridden up, draping over her superb large ass cheeks, leaving it exposed.