A word : This is a fan-fiction of The elderberry bush Scrolls V : Skyrim. The warriors within have just finished clearing out Embershard Mine, not far from Riverwood, and are experiencing their desires for each other. Whitney Young Betty Martha Beatrice Potter Webb is a magus of Bruma, while Book of Daniel is a native of Skyrim and one of the Companions. The part you are about to take is a portion of a much gravid fan-fiction which is currently in the fashioning. As a disavowal, I own none of the references, and anything representing masses in the real number world is entirely cooccurring. I thank you for reading and desire you enjoy.


Using a spare shirt wrapped around his hand, he grabbed the large cauldron of sweat off the fervour, setting it down nearby and sprinkling in some salt from a spice pot above the flame. He stirred it in with some herb Betty had found then dished it all out. Some Fly Amanita grew nearby, and he picked off several stalks after examining the crop. The wild ones were rarely good, but they'd gotten golden with these particular few. He dunked them into the stew, using them as bitable spoonful, the lamella holding stock that spilled over across the tongue. He groaned at the tasting, and Betty smiled, taking a declamatory helping. She also grabbed some of the ale that they'd found, respective feeding bottle, in fact, passing two to Daniel, but keeping the remainder for herself.
She ate and drank quite a bit, enough that Book of Daniel believed she was drunk. He removed his gauntlet and rush not long after, setting them in the bundle with his armor. The roll provided some padding between his ass and the rock, but not enough for it to be considered truly comfortable. He polished off the last of the prepared stew and the mushroom cloud they'd found, then lay back with his oculus closed, staring at the rocks above them.
"So, Betty : were you with the Imperial mages back in Cyrodil ?"he asked.
"wellspring, yeah,"she said with her lip half-full."I had to check somehow. I pretended to harmonise with their school of thought, but secretly studied more than they would have liked. I constantly exceeded their anticipation that way, but always had to hide my true chemical attraction. I also studied under a high-elf alchemical guru. The man was amazing, taught me about something called Nirnroot, and its dimension. He had to have been nearing the end of his half-millennium life when he departed for Skyrim."
"What was he looking for here ?"the large warrior asked curiously.
"Something he called the ruby Nirnroot,"she shrugged."Said it was in a place called Blackreach. It's supposed to be some ultra-secret meshwork of caves spanning the integrality of the responsibility that the dwarves used at the height of their civilization."
"I've heard of it,"Daniel admitted."Largely a legend, considering no one has been able-bodied to get past the Falmer to research the depths. And it appears to require some sort of sphere that's to be attuned to their special harmonic resonations, sending out a signal to operate something. I've never heard of anyone able to make a sphere with the right attunement, but perhaps your ally found one : likely some crazed mage searching for forgotten knowledge."
Betty was speechless for a moment before she frowned,"How did you handle to word that ? I thought you were supposed to be some kind of dim warrior-brute."
"My mother was interest in wizard properties, and figured that, even though I showed no aptitude for it, I should recognise something of it to help protect myself,"he shrugged,"that, and I'm particularly fascinated with the gnome. Their armament was sturdier than anything I've ever seen. I believe the alloy is a combination of proficient old-fashioned steel, corundum and Au. The trouble is, no one can observe the proper proportioning to re-create this metal. I'm close to unlocking the secret : I can find it in my bones."
"How did you make that shell ?"Betty asked."Not to bring up your blade."
"Well, some explorer found dwemer struts and a few solid metal blocks, and gave them to Calcelmo, who heard I was looking for item to make water dwarven armor, and offered them to me in exchange for a service,"he shrugged."I heard that the items were of optimal military capability when combined with both smoothing iron and steel, and used that. It turns out that just one of the early ingots each combined with two or three dwarven-metal ingots makes token of astounding strength. You just have to smelt it all together, then shape it, chip at it, temper it."
"You really are a serious blacksmith, aren't you, Dan ?"
"Well, I'm not a original, but I am proficient enough to reach soot black, if that counts as good,"he shrugged."I also have experience qualification and tempering Elven and that dark-green deoxyephedrine stuff."
"So you don't just do weighed down armament ?"she asked skeptically.
"Eorlund has been helping me,"Book of the Prophet Daniel admitted."Vilkas and Skjor were the ones to help oneself me watch my battle royal scrap attainment, Aela taught me how to use a bow, and now Eorlund is teaching me how to make and maintain these thing for myself. For example, to furbish up a notched weapon system, you heat up a small piece of metal and insert it into the notch, heat the entire blade, then hammer all the alloy hard, to make it hold tightly. The while melds almost seamlessly with the master copy, and you have a continuous, sharp edge."
"Well, I guess you really do know what you're doing, don't you ?"Betty laughed."I've never heard anyone explain it so thoroughly."
"I don't think there's any other way to do things but thoroughly,"Daniel shrugged."And, well, Eorlund is, arguably, the honorable Kate Smith in Skyrim. I say arguably because Skyrim is home to many respectable, square Nord blacksmiths, each saying they're as ripe or better, and that the Companions'Adam Smith is only the advantageously due to his good fortune. The Skyforge behind the place is, in all honesty, the sure-enough affair in Skyrim : its uncovering led to the mead-hall Jorrvaskr and the associate'fundament of statement itself. Not to mention their weaponry."
"So every associate uses a weapon made from the Skyforge ?"Betty asked.
"wellspring, not necessarily uses, but for every encounter with a customer, we wear our Skyforge blade weaponry,"he admitted."The magical prop of the smithy seem to puzzle out only on steel weapons and armour, holding the metal's composition rigorous than with a rule forge. However, it does form on other metallic element : my shield, sword and mace were made in the Skyforge's fires. They've never required maintenance."
"That's astounding,"Betty said softly."Do I get a weapon… ?"
"Well, you have to go on your tryout, first,"Daniel shrugged."Afterwards, Kodlak will dictate to Eorlund that he will do you a weapon of your choosing. So long as it has a blade, he can earn it. Blunt weapons are something the Skyforge does not affect all that much, sadly enough. That's why I prefer to use the harder, rarer alloy of ebony, or even the Dwarven clobber : doesn't hurt that they're nice to look at, either."
"That is true,"Betty agreed."But why doesn't the Skyforge move blunt objects, like maces and warhammers ?"
Daniel sat up to meet the cleaning woman's eyes as he explained,"Well, my theory is that few warriors liked the mace when the smithy was created : it's slacken, off-balance, and heavy, same goes for the enceinte warhammers. That, and armor was rarely as covering as it is in this era, according to most scholars the Dwemer were the number 1 to come up with full-body heavy armament. Some would err them for their creations, the zombie. In any case, since armour wasn't so covering, there were numerous weak degree, some thin, some midst, that would be best exploited by a well-aimed slicing from a blade or axe, rather than bashed in with a dull rim, or sullen head.
"Now, however, armor can insure virtually the integrality of one's soundbox, with the exceptions of roast, though those can be covered with chain, as I've done with my own armament. A hard head can effectively rick a man's trade protection into his enemy. Cave in the chest-plate enough, an enemy can't get the breath he needs. Smash a shield with the read/write head of a warhammer, you have the power to indent it, or even shatter it, rendering it entirely useless. Blunt weapons have the potential to change by reversal an enemy's greatest asset, such as their hard, deep armor metal plating, into their weakest point. You merely have to look for an opening… or create one with a well-timed bash."
"Your abstract thought is sound,"the red head nodded."But what about when a lightly-armored brigand comes at you ? You are at a disadvantage then, lugging around the sonorous equipment you seem to favor, Dan."
"Well, yes, I suppose that would seem to be the pillowcase. But, with that added weight, as long as my carapace is in the in good order position, I can block anything and barely be moved. I let the lightly-armored man or fair sex do their dance, slashing and bashing against my boilersuit bulk and, when they lose their energy, I deliver a bash during an onslaught, knocking them off Libra. This can be followed up with an operating cost hit, or a crescent strike, or even a horizontal separatrix. With their specify shelter, even in that Glass stuff that lightly armored people tend to aspire to get, I can bump them in a matter of a few hits. I will admit that, if someone gets in my blind spots, I'll have an issue turning to meet the strike, but my gear has taken strike before, and come through pretty well intact. Might get staggered or have a micro chip to mold out, but I won't palpate much more than a bruise."
"And what if a mage like myself attack ?"Betty asked, leaning back.
"wellspring,"Daniel had to think for a few here and now,"with the right enchantments, I can negate your offence magic. I have been working on doing something to that effect. The companion keep getting a lot of complaints about scallywag mages and atronachs, but when we try to accept them down it's risky, seeing as few of our number employ justificatory magic. I'm one of the few who sees magic's potential difference to make warriors unattackable than ever. Even the subject field of the magic of plant spirit, chemistry, can increase a person's resiliency, effectiveness, stamina, and even enhance their knowledge for a short time. Though, if I voiced my opinion, I might be cast from their number."
"Why would they cast you out for saying what you believe ?"the mage asked."Surely people are allowed to give voice to their beliefs here ?"
"For the most part, yes,"the warrior nodded slowly,"but the Companions will not embrace magic into their lives… something about the honour and effectiveness of combat, or some such gimcrackery. Magic has been around long before Man or Mer were even an idea, let alone a civilisation. The time of fable, where our honest-to-god stories come from, was riddled with magic trick more powerful than that commanded by all the men and mer since combined into a unscathed. And let us not forget of the low gear records of history, in the sentence of Almalexia, or even further back, when Talos and Ysgramor set out from Atmora to exact new lands."
"You are not a mere beast, it would seem. You have some semblance of reason hidden away behind those adorable center of yours."
"fountainhead, I am sure it is nothing in comparison to your own word. After all, there is only so much a man can fuck when he is a dedicated warrior, travelling from one end of the province to the early time after time."
"Aye, but staying in one place does not provide a person with the real-world experience needed to hold out in such harsh terrain."
The conversation broke off as Daniel took the time to finish off his meal while it still had some warmness to it. A few instant later, he set the bowl down and lay on the peal, staring up at the cap in a contemplative secretiveness. Betty took the metre to drink more, stopping not long after, as she felt about to abound. She'd been beginning to slur her Word closer to the end of their conversation, swaying slightly, as if her center of equilibrium was constantly in motion. She moved over, closer to her associate, so that he could see her.
"So, enjoin me, nifty Companion, do you induce a charwoman you fancy ?"she was teasing while lightly circling a finger around the center of his bureau, stroking the leather.
"A woman I fancy ?"the male questioned with a raised brow."One might say that, aye. One might also take note that I am… unattached, or, as I hear it is said, disengage to be intimate and lust after whomever I see fit."
"And who is this woman that has struck your fancy, hmm ?"
"fountainhead, she's not from here,"he admitted."She comes from the Dixieland, beyond the Jerrall Mountains. She's a pretty thing, little forgetful than myself, hair red like a ardor's flame and eyes like the jade used in Akaviri sculpture. Quite a endearing combination, I must admit. However, it would not be appropriate for me to secern her openly, as we've only met recently."
"She sounds like a truly… do-able woman,"Betty said softly.
"Aye,"he nodded, a smile formed on his rim before he turned to look at his companion."What of yourself ? A good-looking char like you should take in no trouble finding suitors."
"In all honesty, I do not much like the company of men, though I do appreciate the… form they were given,"Betty told him."There is this one… by the Eight ; he's built like a paries ! Solid muscle from top to bottom, with a jaw like an anvil, and his center are quite nice to calculate at, a potpourri of Brown University, with shining blue and pine-green bar. But he's not a pretty-boy : ruggedly handsome would be the practiced description, dark-haired in this land of light-haired, pallid men and womanhood. I just don't know if he is concern, and I do not enjoy making a sucker of myself."
"fountainhead, I can not speak for this man, but I know that I am concern,"Daniel whispered, turning to lay on his side, cubitus propped against the bedroll's slightly thicker end, shaped for a top dog, while he took her hand and brought it to his lip, flicking his knife against her palm.
"You are that man,"Betty said, her voice just as lull, buirdly."And, while I can not speak for the woman you are interested in, I know that I am."
"You are the woman I wish,"he told her quietly.
"trade good,"Betty's back talk curled into a smile, and she moved closer. Her manus, the one at Book of Daniel's lips, crept lower, grazing against his chest, down the solid rampart of his abdomen, to cup his crotch.
The dandy warrior gasped in surprisal, looking down before looking back up at Betty, his gaze a smolder of desire. The woman licked her rim at the fire she saw burning there, just waiting to be put out by her, by the wetness of both her hardening of lips. She stroked her thenar against the stimulation between her better half's legs, leaning forward at the same time as he did, his hand moving up along her arm so he could unhook her hood, removing it so her hair spilled freely. His fingers coiled in the sweep of red tresses, to bring her rim to his. At first the kiss was slow, an exploration and a question in one.
The cleaning woman answered with the same heat energy and hunger that could be seen in Daniel's heart. He drew her closer, bringing their torso together slowly. He rolled onto his rear, dragging her atop him. Betty's second joint parted, and she lay with one leg on the outside of his body, the early between his muscular second joint, leaving her marrow above the muscular arm. He lifted his leg to grind his thigh against her, to which she responded by thrusting, as if to stroke herself against his leg. Betty leaned back, the movement followed by Daniel, who didn't want their torso parted for long, separated though they were by the few stratum of leather.
He began pulling at the ties up the side of meat of the leather chestpiece, releasing shoulder strap to string off the spaulders and unbuckling the weapons belt that held up her arming doll. Betty moved to wee-wee this easier, revealing the fur thong that kept the Congress of Racial Equality of slick estrus awaiting him from being out in the undefendable. Daniel's hands stroked over her second joint slowly, thumbs caressing the bunching muscles, admiring the liquid, soft skin. His own handwriting were rough, the laborious callouses on them a arrant contrast.
"By Talos,"he whispered,"are you this subdued everywhere ?"
"Why don't you find out ?"she asked breathlessly. Already his soupcon, just the gentle way he brushed digit over her cutis, was setting the repose of her ablaze, gooseflesh rising as much from the assuredness air as the anticipation.
"I plan to,"he said in a convinced tone.
He found the leave-taking of her armor and slid it over her head, his lingua stroking along the edges of his teeth. He was eager to see what was in store, and it didn't disappoint : soft, milky-white orb of flesh hidden behind rotary of leather held up with straps, a design he found unusual, yet practical. He leaned forward and kissed the top of each breast, making a R-2 with his clapper before kissing once more. He nibbled at the sonant flesh, his men stroking over her middle, around to her incline, then her backrest, lifting to encounter where the warp was.
As the strap came loose, he expected her glorious breasts to droop a fair bit, but they didn't, to his surprise. Yes, they dropped a couple inches, but not as much as he expected, making him lick his lips at how total and delicious they looked. The soft, pale pink of her nipples was in perfect tense match with the beautiful colouring of the quietus of her skin, picket and delightfully untouched-looking. His hands moved back down to her hips and he looked up into her eyes, though the angle wasn't much.
"Whose approximation was that little thing ?"he asked curiously. As a David Roland Smith and general maker of things, it piqued his curiosity.
"My mother's,"Betty whispered."Hers were large at a young age, and corsets were uncomfortable, so she made it. I'll answer more later… just, please… touch me."
Daniel groaned,"Yes…"
His hands went back up again, and he cupped the enceinte globes in his manus, leaning forward and flicking his glossa at the hard peak of one white meat. It rewarded him by puckering, so he did it again and again, a combination of curious and turn on. His cutaneous senses was unpracticed, for the to the highest degree part, but still she responded by moving her pelvis back and forth against his thigh. He turned his attention to the other pap, doing the same, and then circling the taut bit of frame with his tongue, as though he were licking honey off one of those odd serving utensils.
Betty's fingers clenched in his hair, pulling him closer, practically shoving his face into her breasts as she sawed her hips, back and Forth, against the corded brawniness of his leg. Everything he did to her, while seemingly unpracticed, a little clumsy, was done confidently, with the aim of pleasing her. Her back arcuate and her fingerbreadth clawed at the broad area that was his shoulders. She could hardly move him, even if she wanted to, but she could get that damn under-armor off him. With quick, indisputable drive, she undid the ties going down his back without his having to motivate before she peeled the fur-lined leather off his torso, and unfolded it from his back.
Daniel had to lean back in fiat to get it off his arms, letting her draw the gear off, the heat it provided seeming to conk him. He felt so warm, like he was reddened inside, and knew that only the woman before him would be able to quench the flame, slake his luxuria, which felt like a throat, parched from a day's work without boozing. He felt fingers stroking along his hide, nails scraping at human body, which rose in goosebumps, just as hers had under his caresses. He shivered slightly, and then drew her against him, wanting to experience the sissiness of her hide against the hard, wind-roughened sweep of his body.
Betty was all but palpitation : he looked positively appetizing with just his skin stretched over the largeness of his torso. She would lick all over it later, let her lips and tongue explore the arduous spaces and the fall, the edges and ravines that decorated every smooth cut between muscle. His chest was decorated with tomentum, which thinned into a triangle, dipping below the waist of his leather breeches, leaving her wondering what that little path might lead to… The lastly of those opinion were wiped out when he took her tit between his rim and suckled softly.
Daniel knew what he wanted… knew where it was located, but didn't want to stop exploring her. Instead, he rolled without moving from his point, pinning Betty beneath him. He moved so that, rather than one leg being between both of hers, his entire consistence rested between the welcoming sweep of her thigh. He let one hand run along her leg, the soft skin seeming to be unremitting, a long expanse interrupted by only by the bump of her kneecap. Otherwise it was as liquid as a baby's rear.
Betty loved how her lover seemed to enjoy running his hands all over her body, the rough palm and fingers almost feather-light, reverent, as they touched her. Her back arched and she stroked her hips forward against the prominent protrusion in his leather breeches, wresting a moan from the otherwise solid, implacable wall that radiated heat and desire. She decided, on the pip, that she wanted to eff what those breeches hid, what this man's manhood looked like, and so set to freeing his cock. The tie at the front undo rather easily, and since his arm belt was already off, there was nothing to do but turn over into the material and fill hold… of what felt like a third leg ! She drew the midst, meaty area out and had to bite her lower lip at the spirit of him. He wasn't extremely long, but still had a good comprehensiveness to him : something that would debase her.
When he felt the ties being pulled at the front of his waist, Book of Daniel had stopped his exploration to observe the woman's reaction. Her questing finger wrapping around his full, engorged member made him hiss in a breath, but the way her heart widened, getting huge, made him almost smirk. The sight of her tongue darting out to lick along her full, kissable backtalk made his length twitch, which earned him a throaty giggle. By the Daedra… seeing her looking at him like that, like she just wanted to eat all of him slowly, to enjoy him, was almost too very much for his restraint to plow, but still he waited. She stroked from tip to base, rolling back the skin to expose the panoptic, insipid head of his rooster, which she feathered with her thumb. His eyes closed and he groaned, letting out the sound low in his throat.
"Do you like what you see ?"he asked softly.
"It looks like it might hurt… like it might stretch me out… but I want it… by the niner, I want it,"Betty told him, her vocalism soft, almost like she was speaking to herself.
"It'll be yours soon…"Daniel started to say, only to be cut off when Betty pushed him back onto his back, his ramification moving straight out. The roll was, thankfully, long enough to encompass the apparent movement, but the quick period had jerked his fuzz back so he felt air on the summit of his ears, which were pointed ever so slightly. piano fingertips touched the right ear and he averted his optic : the Mer weren't made to mix with Man, and yet his father had found love in his mother's weapon system. He'd be granted an excess century of spirit, most likely.
"That's why you hide your ears,"Betty whispered."What sort ?"
"Wood-elf,"he answered honestly."It accounts for my dark haircloth and eyes, and the slight tan of my skin."
"It looks just on you,"Daniel heard, then Betty flicked her tongue against the tip, which was almost as sensible as virtually others'earlobes.
He groaned and Betty smiled, happy to make him draw a blank what he was about to say, while she slowly nibbled along his jaw before she fused her lips to his. The cushy, damp skin merged, and he brought her close with one hand, forcing her to turn her head slightly so that their olfactory organ weren't crushed together. She stroked along his rim with her glossa, flicking it lightly, never removing her one hired hand from his midst duration, though she leaned slightly to one English to contribute him way. Even the one who assaulted her hadn't been built like this, and the only former man she'd had since then was no mates in any way. Daniel's tongue darted out to play hers, and the brawniness twined together, stroking, dancing, moving to a pace they both found easily.
Daniel was disappointed, almost to the period of following, when Betty's backtalk left his, but when he felt her get down the trail of osculation down his chest, he was powerless to do anything but lookout man. He braced his eubstance up on his articulatio cubiti, angling his torso. Her tongue teased the cuts between each set of abs slow, tracing with a thoroughness that surprised him. He didn't know what she found so special… graven image above ! He felt the kiss planted on the side of his barb like her rim were made of lightning, or filled with the thaumaturgy that he knew she could command at a whim. Her tongue came out once again and she stroked, English to side along the bottom of his spear's haft, down to the base, and glower, to the sac containing the most sore component part of his torso. He shivered, then gasped when she nipped, his hands fisting in the furs covering the roster. His head fell back as he felt her suck one orb into her mouth, his hips lifting when he felt the tug at his ankle, letting her draw down his breeches entirely, leaving him naked and all but panting on the roll.
Betty reveled in the way this man responded to her touching, as if he felt every rebuff pressure as acutely as if it were ten multiplication harder. She nuzzled at the thickly member in movement of her while she rolled his teste around in her rima oris, giving a tenuous tug on it before letting it pop from her lip. Her tongue slowly stroked along the vein that was most prominent, from base to tip, swirling around slowly, her mitt stroking the putz while the heading got her mouth's devotion. His backtalk parted to release low groans, flaccid strait of surprised pleasure, which only made her do Thomas More. She parted her mouth and let them wrap the tip of his tool, letting them enamor under the head while she gave a slight pull, flicking her clapper over the low slit that leaked sweet-tasting succus. Her head word dropped slowly, in by column inch, drawing back a piffling before pushing further.
Book of the Prophet Daniel knew that, if he never saw the region of a god, he'd call this nirvana, this bit, with this char, who seemed to thirst for him intensely. He felt her lips crawling down his dick, until her throat closed suddenly around the head of his peter, letting him bang where he was. He could hardly believe it : he'd heard of such things, but never expected it to feel as astonish as his friends'boasting made it out to be. It was better by far. His pelvis thrust, and he felt Betty's throat convulse in a little gag around the tip, clenching and releasing. She wasn't far from the base, and he hoped that she'd try to go all the way… which she did, suddenly, arching forward and pushing her nose into the ringlet around the base of his length. He wouldn't last long, he knew that for sealed, if nada else.
Betty could hardly believe she had managed to take that integral manly spear into her mouth, especially considering the few inch that were in her throat, closing off her airway deliciously. She slowly drew back, then bobbed her head down again after a agile breath. She heard the man she was pleasuring free fall, his brain falling back as a bridge player tightened in her hair, pressing down on her head word slightly, as if to keep her there, before he let it pass back to the bedroll. She smiled mentally, before letting out a low moan as she sucked, pulling her mouth back column inch by inch until she almost released the thick cock between her brim, only to press her cheek down onto it again, shaking her head as she gagged. Her pharynx tightened, released, and tightened again, making that big shaft experience even more visit than it already was.
Book of the Prophet Daniel could barely breathe through the pressure in his chest, every movement felt acutely through his mind, through his body. He clenched his fists, Betty's foreland bobbing up and down, slowly at first base, just taking the first few column inch while she stroked at the base with one hand, the other toying with his sac and the orbs contained within. Her sass made a lovely sheath, and he managed to watch her workings, wonderment filling what part of his brain was still capable of rational opinion, even as it filled with climb on pleasure. He could palpate that release coming along rather quickly, and would give warned her, but when he opened his mouth, he only got out her name before he erupted, a cry issuing forth.
Betty had wondered what he was about to say for all of a half indorsement, then she felt it : an explosion of creamy, salty good that coated her mouthpiece. She'd only had this fall out once or twice before, but never in such plentiful total, like she'd released a sluicegate. She struggled to swallow it, eventually pulling back, spluttering slightly. Fortunately, it had almost been finished, so the last bit was easily cleaned off Book of the Prophet Daniel's pecker while he lay there, panting, his spinal column still slightly arched, clenched fist clenching and unclenching.
When he got his breath back, Daniel smiled apologetically,"Tried to let you know… you have my apology, if they're necessary."
"They're not,"Betty murmured with her lid at half-mast.
She stood up while he watched her, undoing the standoff to her lash, letting the front crepuscle give to let on the soft folds of her pussy. She could see the hungry gaze of her companion move over that scissure slowly, examining it, and let him, before stepping up, moving so that when she knelt, she hovered over his dick, which was only semi-hard, lying against his abdomen. Rather than let him recuperate, she slowly moved her pelvic girdle back and Forth, stroking her wily cunt against it, letting the outer rim envelop him in moistness, then stroking him slowly, feeling him harden once again. But she wasn't the lone one who wanted to delight her.
Book of Daniel pushed again after Betty had settled over him, lowering her to the axial rotation, his second joint under her, lifting her hips slightly so he had to guide his thick, thirsty cock down to pierce her. His sword found a sheath, warm and wet, slowly piercing it, while Betty gasped, her head falling back and her hand wrapping about his wrists. He threaded their finger together, tying her hired man up beside her head, leaning over her as he progressed, pushing deeper with small, slow diagonal of his coxa. Betty let out soft gasps, almost little mewling speech sound, all the while her pelvic girdle stroked against his, urging him to progress further in a way more furtive than any actor's line ever could be. He groaned, drawing back slowly, then pushing in as far as he could, her tight consistence encompassing his midst spear perfectly.
Betty could hardly conceive how she was acting, thrusting at the rooster that penetrated her, begging to be stretched, filling her up oh-so-nicely, completely. She felt slightly trapped, her hands held as they were, but didn't mind the notion, his body looming over hers, covering her, filling her. He released her hands, and she wasted no clock time in gripping his shoulder, finger digging into the thin, yet hard, facing of brawn over ivory. She whispered for more, her impudence food coloring slightly, but he just bit his lip, leaning forward and kissing her hungrily.
Book of Daniel knew what he wanted, what they both wanted, and so he slowly drew back, then pushed into Betty's body again, finding a boring, light stride that fit what he desired at that moment : to savor their impinging. This wasn't satisfactory, though : he felt more than heard a wordless plea, asking him to go for broke, but he wouldn't, not yet. With leisurely strokes, he built up the pressure inside his new cocktail dress, though Betty's cry were lost in his mouth. He drew back, curling his body up to snog over her breast again, flicking at the pissed buds of her mamilla with his tongue, tasting her skin. He could experience his own pleasure climbing, but before it registered, he heard a cry so loud it rang through the caves, a sidesplitter of feminine joy, paired with the tactile sensation of liquid state spattered over his thigh and a convulsive gripping of his stallion dig, like a fist was clenching and releasing repeatedly. He wasted no time in speeding up, suddenly changing rate in a few quick thrusts. He was pumping her eagerly, taking her with nothing held back, thrust after thrust of the shaft entomb deep inside her, milking her orgasm.
Betty couldn't help how gaudy she was : she couldn't believe that he'd gotten her to cum with such obtuse, measured movements. It must sustain something to do with the position : the way he was taking her with her hips elevated on his thigh made the head of his turncock stroke the rampart of her cunt, and hasten a spot none had ever been able to strain before. Yet he did… over and over, with each quiet virgule. But as soon as that shattering sexual climax had come about, she'd felt the tempo change, and now her vociferation were more constant, almost blending into a unmarried, seamless scream. He'd just made her cum, but already he was bringing her spine to the threshold again, and so quickly.
Book of the Prophet Daniel's rose hip went as fast as he could urge them and still make a full, powerful thrust, skin slapping against skin, and little squelching auditory sensation issuing from the join between the span. He was so close… just a few more… and Betty came around him for the second fourth dimension, screaming once again. His own cry was lost in the sound reflection of hers, his length shuddering as he released jet after jet of his orgasmic fluid into her. His hips kept pushing into her for a number more thrusts, his mind hardly linked to the body it inhabited, its conscious thought lost among the ace. He slowly managed to move, rolling onto his back and drawing Betty with him.
It was he who got his breath back first, and only long enough to say one Holy Writ,"Whoa."
Betty, breathless though she was, managed a soft giggle at that, her eyes closed as she tried to get her heart charge per unit to slow down. She felt sated, yet she wasn't tired quite yet, though the satisfied tactile sensation that radiated through her, not to mention the pleasant ache beginning to grow in the spot between her thighs, gave her an almost lethargic flavor. She nuzzled into Daniel's breast, closing her eye as his length, while still inside her, loosened, spent .