Chapter 42: Chapter 41 Chain Reaction

Dink watched the miner clamber to his feet while fastening his trousers. He looked up, indifferent to the large man now looming over him. After rearing to his full height, the miner towered over Dink. Up close, he was clean-shaven with slightly better than average facial features.

 

"Sigh, here we go again," Dink said in resignation, raising the frying pan in preparation for a fight.

 

Unexpectedly, the miner didn't seem interested in resuming their confrontation. He ran past Dink, hastily pulling Martha's shirt closed to cover her exposed breasts. She tugged herself free of his grip, buttoning the shirt herself. Dink could see grubby handprints left behind by coal dust on her clothes.

 

"Let go of me. What have I said to you before, Gorg? I'm not interested in you," Martha firmly stated in annoyance, turning her back to him.

 

"But, Martha, who else could be better for you in Burrowton than me?" Gorg pleaded, tapping his hands at her waist.

 

Her posture turned hostile as she spun to confront him, her expression clouded with anger.

 

"If you touch me like that one more time. I'm going to remove your hand. I've told you a thousand times before and I'll say it again. I'm. Not. Interested. In. You. No, means no. Don't make me repeat myself another time," Martha said in warning.

 

"I'd listen to her if I were you, she's much stronger than she looks," Dink added, snickering in amusement when Gorg tensed at his words.

 

Hearing that, Martha blushed, staring at him while biting her lip at the memory of Dink's touch. He involuntarily stepped back upon seeing the barely disguised lust on her face. Gorg decided Dink would make a good outlet for his rejection, stepping towards him while cracking his knuckles.

 

Seeing his approach, Dink tossed the pan spinning in the air before deftly catching it. He made eye contact with Gorg, slowly exposing his fangs in a menacing grin.

 

"Ready for round two?" Dink asked, cocking an eyebrow.

 

"Do you think I'm scared of you, beast?" Gorg retorted.

 

"I wasn't asking you, imbecile. I was talking to the lady there," Dink savagely responded, gesturing at Martha.

 

Her blush deepened as she dropped her hand fastening her top three buttons, leaving her impressive cleavage exposed.

 

"I'm ready if you are," Martha accepted his proposition, ignoring Gorg's presence. Gorg's mouth opened to object, but he was quickly silenced by a glare from Martha. 

 

"Mmm," a feminine groan came from the floor.

 

Dink turned to see Tahlea struggling to lift herself from the floor. He rushed to her side, helping to sit by her shoulders.

 

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"It may have to wait until later," Dink regretfully informed Martha.

 

"Of course! She needs our attention," Martha agreed.

 

Martha hurried to Tahlea's side, kneeling opposite Dink. She started rubbing her shoulders comfortingly, leaning forward to kiss the top of Tahlea's head. 

 

"You'll be alright, lovely. Gorg, go get her some water," Martha commanded. He hesitated before seeing the stern look she gave him.

 

Gorg dragged his heels in obeying, constantly glancing over his shoulder at Dink. Plates and mugs littered the floor, knocked down during the tussle. He crouched down to retrieve a mug from the floor, filling it with water from a large wooden barrel nearby. 

 

As he was returning with the water, the town was rocked by another earthquake. The force of it knocked the mug to the floor, spilling its contents everywhere. The earthquake lasted what felt like an eternity. Gorg attempted to make his way back to Martha. 

 

He stumbled across the kitchen, holding himself upright on the furniture as he moved forward. Debris rained down from the ceiling. A particularly large piece of the ceiling fell down, causing him to leap out of the way. Unfortunately for him, he landed in the puddle of spilled water. He upended onto the floor, knocking the wind from his lungs. The noise of his fall was drowned out by the deep rumbling of the earthquake.

 

Dink shielded Tahlea with his body from any potential threats while accumulated dust from the rafters filled the air around them. Martha used his actions as an excuse to overlap herself over him. 

 

Damnit, I don't know whether to laugh or cry. I can feel Martha's immense tits pushing against my back along with Tahlea's more modest pair pressing under me. 

 

Dink cursed his good luck, he was finding it difficult to control his lust. His Goblin urge to pillage rose within him. His better judgement fought to suppress his instincts. They were screaming at him to disregard the danger they were in and just take the women while they were vulnerable. 

 

He braced himself against the sensation of their supple breasts violently jiggling from the motion of the earth. Before he lost control, the shaking gradually stopped, rumbling off into the distance.

 

Martha reluctantly climbed off due to Dink's struggles to extract himself, standing upright. Martha knelt in front of him, pulling Tahlea into her lap to cradle her head. 

 

"Where's that water? I'll get it myself," Dink said.

 

He fumbled around through the wreckage strewn across the floor, discovering the unconscious form of Gorg. Gorg let out a groan at being disturbed after Dink tactlessly rolled him to the side to retrieve the discarded mug. He carried it over to the barrel, which now leaked water around a fallen support beam protruding from it.

 

He held the mug under the stream until it was overflowing before hurrying back to Tahlea's side. Her mouth slowly parted as she weakly blinked up at him. He gently placed the water to her dry lips, helping her drink. From his vantage point, Dink noticed that he could see down both of their shirts. He was unable to prevent his eyes from drifting. 

 

"What's going on here?" Estra asked. She caught him in the act, bursting through the ruined door into the kitchen. 

 

He swallowed back the drool that had been forming in his mouth, jumping in fright. He spilled water all over Martha and Tahlea. Their wet shirts clung tightly to their tantalising breasts, allowing him to see their hardened nipples through the fabric. He gulped, guiltily climbing to his feet with a grimace.

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