Emerie did it again, causing the muscles of his stomach to tighten. She squeezed the centre of his cock as she stroked, then she sunk the very tip inside her mouth. It was warm, damp, and her breaths ghosted over him like teasing waves.
His arms tugged, wanting her to go deeper. To sink her mouth down around him until she’d taken all of his throbbing, aching cock inside it – and probably down her throat too.
Had she not tied his arms, he might have pushed at her head to do so.
Instead, he was forced to experience blissful torture as she licked and sucked at him, all the while moving her delicate hands over his hot, hard flesh. Ingram’s skull tilted back further and further with each wet caress, his body wanting to rock and thrust.
The only thing stopping him from falling back was his tail propping him up, and the only things preventing him from bouncing forward were his legs, and her between them.
He was stuck, trapped by her.
She even kissed the sides of him, swiping her tongue over the spikey yet pliable scales that ran down him. Each of her tastebuds teased him, greeted him, and she seemed to have absolutely no qualms about drinking down his lubricant.
Actually, she quietly mumbled, “Your cock tastes really nice. It’s sweet and salty.” Then she nibbled up to the tip to dab her tongue at the hole where his seed kept bubbling from. “Even your cum is tasty. It’s like a diluted version of your scent.”
“Emerie,” he rasped with a shudder.
She was talking to him about his dick, complimenting it, complimenting him. She was swiftly pushing him closer, and the heated delight in her features made her appear giddy over it.
She was fucking killing him.
“So hard,” she stated, worshipping his cock with her hands. “Such a pretty colour of violet.” She sunk her mouth around the tip again and gave a little moan as she pulled back, like she truly found him delicious. “You’ve been so good tonight. So gentle. So patient and obedient.”
A growl burst from him when his shaft swelled at the word good. “Don’t stop,” he begged, huffing as he turned his head down to watch her.
He was greeted by the vision of this colourful, pretty butterfly using her hands and lips against him. Her blue eyes connecting with his orbs did strange things to his mind, his heart, and his body.
“Did you like finally getting to touch me?” she asked. “Feeling my pussy, my clit, and making me come for you?”
His whine was acute as his sac clenched.
“Faster,” he pleaded. “Harder, Emerie.”
His groin was in agony, moments from giving him soul-soaring relief. So close to release, he could feel it in his spine. His scales, fur, and spikes lifted and softened with each of his pulsating swells, like ripples and prickles were dancing across him.
She moved her hands faster while squeezing tightly, her mouth licking all over the thicker head. Smacking sounds came from her lips.
Her scent was ripe with desire, like she was enjoying doing this. It only reminded him of what he truly wanted, of what he was missing.
“Can you be a good boy and come for me?”
How could those two words, good boy, pierce through the fog, and shove him violently into bliss when everything else had been a crawl? His chest dipped forward as he threw his head back, parted his beak, and roared, seed shooting from him. The corded muscles of his neck strained at the tension that stiffened him. His arms pulled to break free so he could flip her and thrust through his mind-breaking release.
Instead, he was stuck where he sat as she worked her hands over his cock, helping him push liquid up his shaft so he could ease the pressure. Each spurt was spine tingling, each one had his roar dying into groans.
Then he looked down as he jerked and huffed through the last of his pulses, only to find her face stained with ropes of his release. Her lips were open, welcoming the liquid into her mouth and on her tongue. She was flooded with it.
He shuddered at the perverse sight of her playing with his seed like this while heavy white ropes of it released from him. “Emerie,” he whimpered.
She’d covered herself in his scent, marking herself with it, and it shot a thrill through every fibre of his being. She even fucking smiled up at him, like she was pleased that she’d showered herself in his essence.
The quake that rippled down him was intense as he grew enraptured by the sight of it.
How was he supposed to calm down after all this?
I want more...
He wanted them to touch each other more. He needed them even closer, until their scents mingled into feral chaos.
Emerie stifled a whimper when two fingers entered her abused pussy from behind. Even though she was swollen, tender, and oversensitive, she made no other sound of protest.
Instead, she just kept her eyes on Ingram’s hand stroking his cock while she sat limp and languid on his lap.
She knew he pressed his fingers into her depths because he wanted inside, wanted to feel where he wanted to be, so it could help him fall over the edge. With his quiet groan, the veins on his cock thicken as he swelled.
She would have thought after multiple orgasms, he couldn’t produce a large amount of semen. She was wrong, made evident by his current release, as rope after rope shot from him. He shuddered the entire time, squeezing her against him as he removed his fingers before his claws extended and tore at her.
Something had sent the big guy into a lather, and the sun starting to pierce her eyes meant it had gripped him all night.
At least he hadn’t tried to squeeze that monster dick of his into her tender pussy, but she had needed to help him for most of the night. Her lips twisted into a smile at the fact he hadn’t been alone in that, since he’d utilised his fingers for her pleasure between each of his own.
She’d grown tired halfway through and just let him touch her however he needed while he stroked himself. He didn’t seem to care that he was masturbating over her, so long as he wasn’t by himself.
He’d said he was content to do it so long as Emerie stayed on his lap – she took that compromise so she could just... rest. The more he came, the less it seemed to mess with his mind. He was more controlled after the third time.
I swear... he’s the horniest fucker I’ve ever met.
She wondered if all his kind were like this, or if Ingram was just... different. She hoped it was just him, otherwise any female they set their horny dicks on might be doomed.
When Ingram was finished doing a good job of covering his own hand and both her knees in Duskwalker jizz, he started softening.
She took the opportunity before it was too late.
“I’m tired,” she whined, burying her face into his firm chest. “No more. Put it away.”
“I don’t know how to make it go away,” he admitted, still gripping its drained length.
“Stop touching it!” She would have tried to push it inside him, but the last time she’d attempted that, it had given him an erection again because of her touch.
“But it feels good,” he falsely whined, burying his face against the crook of her neck and shoulder, rubbing it back and forth. “And you smell so nice – it keeps making me ache.”