“Grinding?” She could do that and receive this kind of reaction from him? He suddenly wanted to find out, which only made him pulsate, and fresh lubricant seeped to the surface. “No. Your scent changed, and you felt nice in my arms. Soft and warm.”
He wished he could better explain it, or what he felt. If he did, would it make her want to touch him, or let him touch her in return?
Gripping his cock to shield it from the air and lessen the sting, he attempted to make her understand. “You said that I should feel this way with someone special, and that they should make here feel good.” He pointed to his chest with his tail curling in apprehension. “You do this.”
“Nooo,” she argued, pointing down at his dick. “I made you feel good there and you want more. It’s just your dick brain telling you it’s your heart because I’m the only female here.”
Sadness washed over him as his sight flickered blue. He didn’t like what she was insinuating.
“I have been around another female before, and she did not make me feel this way.” Then again... he hadn’t known he had a cock when he met Raewyn, but he didn’t tell Emerie that. “You are... beautiful. I like your face, your scent, and how you are kind to me.”
He tilted his head when her cheeks grew bright red. “B-beautiful?” she stuttered out, her lips opening and closing like she was speechless.
His chest radiated with pride when he realised she liked being called this.
“Your hair is pretty, and I like how it glows bright orange in the sun like a sunrise. Your eyes look like a frozen lake, yet you look at me with warmth. And when you smile at me... your entire face hurts my chest. I find these things beautiful.”
Even with the small distance between them, he could hear her heart picking up. Her cheeks reddened further, and she lifted her hand to cover the left one, where some of the webbed scarring of her features darkened from its usual paleness.
He wanted to keep explaining what other features he found attractive, but they were all reminders of what he was currently gripping. It made him want to blissfully stroke while he thought about them.
He was tempted to.
“We... we can talk about this after you go take care of that, okay?” she whispered, glancing at him before looking off once more. “You know, while your dick isn’t hard, and you might be thinking more clearly?”
She wanted to talk about it more. He hoped that was a good thing.
“Will you touch me?” He wanted her hands upon him more than anything right now. Just the idea had a hot and heavy pant falling from his parted beak.
“Go take care of your erection, Ingram,” she demanded, pointing into the forest. When he didn’t move, she squirmed on the spot. “Go jerk off. Go come.”
She curled her hand until she made a ring with an empty space in the middle. She moved it up and down in the air like a demonstration.
He mimicked her while gripping his erection and a small shudder wracked him, lubricant coming to the surface to moisten and protect him.
“Not here! In the forest.” He wasn’t sure if he was correct or not, but two little beads had pebbled on her chest through her tight shirt in reaction to him. He’d never seen that from her before. “Please, before I lose my mind.”
He almost denied her request when that delicious tanginess tangled into her scent again. However, her bright red, yet pleading expression made him stand and walk away... in disappointment.
Once he was as far from her as he could handle, he knelt, doubting he’d be able to stand for this.
Did he mind that she was nearby and knew he was doing this? No, not when his first stroke tightened his flesh over his bones and muscles from pleasure. Actually, the thought of her there, aware, deepened the throbbing of his cock.
Since she wouldn’t touch him, he would have liked to do this while he stared at her and have her watch him. He would have been thrilled to let her see the need and desire she brought forth within him.
Emerie, he internally groaned, having to squeeze his cock and stroke it harder, wishing it was her soft hand instead.
I want her to stroke me. He craved her touch, craved taking in the sight of her right now, the scent of her – especially with the new tang to it.
He tried to imagine every part of her essence so it could help him achieve release. His strokes grew swifter as he slipped his fist around his slippery, wet cock.
Yet, the longer he tried, the more forceful he had to be.
He didn’t mind that she was nearby, but he didn’t like... being on his own. It felt cold and wrong while he did this, like he should be ashamed of this part of himself.
When he realised this, the needy ache started to annoy him. He tried to go faster to get it over with, strengthening his grip to squeeze the core of him. He focused on the tip, and small groans fell from him.
Yet, no matter how good it felt, his release didn’t near. Instead, it pestered at the base of him, making his tentacles wriggle unhappily and with annoyance.
The tiniest whine escaped his chest.
He didn’t want to be stuck like this, or with it, by himself.
Emerie pressed the backs of her fingers to her heated cheeks, wishing her roaring flush would fade. It didn’t, at least not for long. Every time her shaking breaths calmed her, she would remember there was currently a Duskwalker off beating one out in the forest.
Oh, my gods, she internally whined, covering her face to hide the evidence of it from the world.
The problem with closing her eyes was that it allowed her to vividly remember him stroking his cock right in front of her. It also gave her the same startling, alarming, insane reaction.
Her pussy clenched, and her nipples gave a throb.
Why did the most disturbing, bewildering thing she’d ever witnessed – a Duskwalker pleasuring himself – have to also be the hottest and most erotic thing she’d ever seen?
In his own large, claw-tipped fist, his giant cock had looked normal in size. But it was a violet purple with a darker head, and four long tentacles that wriggled at least halfway up its length.
Get ahold of yourself, Emerie, she demanded, patting her cheeks to wake herself from this reality. He’s a Duskwalker. You can’t be imagining touching his cock.
Oh, but she was.
It’s wrong, you dickhead. Wrong!
So why was she biting her lip, and half-heartedly considering going to him? Why was she kind of regretting telling him to leave and take care of it by himself? If she had allowed him to stay, would Ingram have masturbated over her standing before him?
He called me beautiful. The moan that escaped her was of utter turmoil.
Emerie couldn’t remember the last time someone complimented her appearance. No one had ever said her hair looked like a sunset, or that her eyes were like a frozen lake. No one had willingly cupped the scarred side of her face like Ingram had days ago, nor had they ever been this... innocently sweet with her.
Over the course of the last week with this Duskwalker, a scary monster had turned into the most adorable creature she’d ever met. It was hard to deny him affection when he so readily welcomed it and, in his own way, tried to return it.
No, I shouldn’t.