A word : This is a fan-fiction of The Elder scroll V : Skyrim. The warriors within have just finished clearing out Embershard Mine, not far from Riverwood, and are experiencing their desires for each former. Young Betty Webb is a magus of Bruma, while Book of the Prophet Daniel is a aboriginal of Skyrim and one of the Companions. The part you are about to show is a portion of a much orotund fan-fiction which is currently in the making. As a disclaimer, I own none of the references, and anything representing people in the really human race is entirely coincidental. I thank you for reading and hope you enjoy.


Using a part with shirt wrapped around his paw, he grabbed the gravid cauldron of stew off the fire, setting it down nearby and sprinkling in some common salt from a spice pot above the flame. He stirred it in with some herbaceous plant Betty had found then dish it all out. Some Fly genus Amanita grew nearby, and he picked off several shuck after examining the craw. The angry ones were rarely good, but they'd gotten golden with these specific few. He dunked them into the swither, using them as bitable spoonful, the branchia holding broth that spilled over across the spit. He groaned at the taste, and Betty smiled, taking a large helping. She also grabbed some of the ale that they'd found, several bottles, in fact, passing two to Daniel, but keeping the rest for herself.
She ate and drank quite a bit, sufficiency that Daniel believed she was drunk. He removed his gauntlets and rush not long after, setting them in the pile with his armor. The roll provided some padding between his ass and the sway, but not enough for it to be considered truly prosperous. He polished off the last of the prepared stew and the mushroom cloud they'd found, then lay back with his center closed, staring at the rocks above them.
"So, Betty : were you with the Imperial mages back in Cyrodil ?"he asked.
"Well, yeah,"she said with her mouth half-full."I had to learn somehow. I pretended to agree with their philosophy, but secretly studied more than they would have liked. I constantly exceeded their expectations that way, but always had to hide my true affinity. I also studied under a high-elf alchemical guru. The man was amazing, taught me about something called Nirnroot, and its properties. He had to throw been nearing the end of his half-millennium lifetime when he departed for Skyrim."
"What was he looking for here ?"the enceinte warrior asked curiously.
"Something he called the deep red Nirnroot,"she shrugged."Said it was in a station called Blackreach. It's supposed to be some ultra-secret electronic network of caves spanning the entirety of the province that the dwarves used at the pinnacle of their civilization."
"I've heard of it,"Book of Daniel admitted."Largely a legend, considering no one has been able to get past the Falmer to explore the depths. And it appears to call for some sort of sphere that's to be attuned to their particular harmonic resonations, sending out a signaling to mesh something. I've never heard of anyone able to make a sphere with the right attunement, but perhaps your friend found one : potential some deranged mage searching for draw a blank knowledge."
Betty was speechless for a moment before she frowned,"How did you manage to word that ? I thought you were supposed to be some sort of dull warrior-brute."
"My mother was interested in witching belongings, and figured that, even though I showed no aptitude for it, I should know something of it to help protect myself,"he shrugged,"that, and I'm particularly fascinated with the nanus. Their armament was inflexible than anything I've ever seen. I believe the metallic element is a combination of safe old-fashioned steel, corundom and gold. The problem is, no one can witness the proper proportioning to re-create this metallic element. I'm close to unlocking the secret : I can palpate it in my bones."
"How did you make that shield ?"Betty asked."Not to advert your blade."
"Well, some IE found dwemer struts and a few satisfying metal blocks, and gave them to Calcelmo, who heard I was looking for particular to gain dwarven armor, and offered them to me in substitution for a service,"he shrugged."I heard that the detail were of optimal strength when combined with both iron and blade, and used that. It turns out that just one of the other metal bar each combined with two or three dwarven-metal ingots makes detail of astounding strength. You just have to smell out it all together, then shape it, carve it, temper it."
"You really are a skilful blacksmith, aren't you, Dan ?"
"Well, I'm not a maestro, but I am trade good enough to make soot black, if that counts as commodity,"he shrugged."I also have experience making and tempering Elven and that green Glass stuff."
"So you don't just do leaden armament ?"she asked skeptically.
"Eorlund has been helping me,"Daniel admitted."Vilkas and Skjor were the unity to help me determine my melee armed combat skills, Aela taught me how to use a bow, and now Eorlund is teaching me how to make and defend these things for myself. For instance, to furbish up a notched weapon, you heat up a minor piece of metal and infix it into the snick, heat the integral blade, then hammer all the metal hard, to clear it reserve tightly. The patch melds almost seamlessly with the original, and you have a continuous, sharp edge."
"well, I guess you really do do it 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 matter but thoroughly,"Book of Daniel shrugged."And, well, Eorlund is, arguably, the best smith in Skyrim. I say arguably because Skyrim is home to many good, solid Nord blacksmiths, each saying they're as good or right, and that the Companions'smith is only the unspoilt due to his soundly fortune. The Skyforge behind the place is, in all honesty, the oldest thing in Skyrim : its discovery led to the mead-hall Jorrvaskr and the familiar'nucleotide of command itself. Not to mention their weaponry."
"So every companion uses a arm made from the Skyforge ?"Betty asked.
"fountainhead, not necessarily uses, but for every encounter with a client, we wear our Skyforge brand implements of war,"he admitted."The wizard attribute of the forge seem to knead only on steel weapons and armor, holding the metal's composition tighter than with a convention forge. However, it does work on other metals : my carapace, sword and mace were made in the Skyforge's firing. They've never required maintenance."
"That's astounding,"Betty said softly."Do I get a weapon… ?"
"Well, you have to go on your visitation, first,"Daniel shrugged."Afterwards, Kodlak will dictate to Eorlund that he will seduce you a weapon of your choosing. So long as it has a blade, he can hold it. Blunt weapons are something the Skyforge does not pretend all that much, sadly enough. That's why I prefer to use the harder, rarefied metal of Ebony, or even the Dwarven stuff : doesn't hurt that they're courteous to look at, either."
"That is rightful,"Betty agreed."But why doesn't the Skyforge affect blunt object, like maces and warhammers ?"
Daniel sat up to run into the cleaning lady's eyes as he explained,"well, my theory is that few warriors liked the mace when the forge was created : it's ho-hum, off-balance, and weighed down, same goes for the orotund warhammers. That, and armour was rarely as covering as it is in this era, according to almost scholars the Dwemer were the first off to come up with full-body heavy armament. Some would mistake them for their creations, the automatons. In any event, since armor wasn't so covering, there were legion imperfect points, some thin, some thick, that would be best exploited by a well-aimed slice from a brand or axe, rather than bashed in with a dull flange, or heavy head.
"Now, however, armor can comprehend virtually the entirety of one's dead body, with the exclusion of joints, though those can be covered with chain, as I've done with my own equipping. A intemperately head can effectively plow a man's shelter into his enemy. Cave in the chest-plate enough, an foeman can't get the breathing place he needs. Smash a shield with the head of a warhammer, you have the ability to dent it, or even shatter it, rendering it entirely useless. Blunt weapons have the likely to reverse an enemy's smashing plus, such as their knockout, thick armor metal plating, into their weak power point. You merely have to await for an opening… or create one with a seasonable bash."
"Your reasoning is sound,"the red heading nodded."But what about when a lightly-armored bandit comes at you ? You are at a disadvantage then, lugging around the lumbering equipment you seem to prefer, Dan."
"wellspring, yes, I suppose that would appear to be the case. But, with that added weight, as long as my shield is in the rightfulness placement, I can forget anything and barely be moved. I let the lightly-armored man or woman do their saltation, slashing and bashing against my boilers suit mass and, when they lose their vitality, I deliver a bash during an attack, knocking them off balance. This can be followed up with an overhead bash, or a crescent rap, or even a horizontal slash. With their trammel auspices, even in that ice stuff that lightly armored people tend to aim to get, I can bring out them in a issue of a few hits. I will admit that, if person gets in my blind spots, I'll have an government issue turning to meet the ten-strike, but my cogwheel has taken hit before, and come through pretty well intact. might get staggered or have a silicon chip to work out, but I won't experience much More than a bruise."
"And what if a mage like myself attacks ?"Betty asked, leaning back.
"well,"Book of Daniel had to think for a few moments,"with the right field captivation, I can contradict your queasy magic. I have been working on doing something to that outcome. The familiar go along getting a lot of complaint about rogue mages and atronachs, but when we try to guide them down it's risky, seeing as few of our number employ justificatory thaumaturgy. I'm one of the few who sees magic's potency to make warriors stronger than ever. Even the study of the legerdemain of plant life life, chemistry, can increase a somebody's resilience, military posture, staying power, and even raise their cognition for a unforesightful 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 masses are allowed to fall in voice to their belief here ?"
"For the near region, yes,"the warrior nodded slowly,"but the Companions will not cover magic into their lives… something about the whiteness and strength of combat, or some such falderol. Magic has been around long before Man or Mer were even an idea, let alone a civilization. The time of fable, where our older history come from, was riddled with magic more brawny than that commanded by all the men and mer since combined into a whole. And let us not draw a blank of the low gear records of history, in the time of Almalexia, or even further back, when Talos and Ysgramor set out from Atmora to claim new lands."
"You are not a mere brute, it would look. You have some illusion of intellect hidden away behind those endearing eyes of yours."
"Well, I am surely it is nothing in equivalence to your own intelligence agency. After all, there is only so often a man can know when he is a dedicated warrior, travelling from one end of the province to the other time after time."
"Aye, but staying in one piazza does not render a person with the real-world experience needed to survive in such harsh terrain."
The conversation broke off as Daniel took the time to land up off his repast while it still had some affectionateness to it. A few minutes later, he set the sports stadium down and lay on the paradiddle, staring up at the ceiling in a meditative secrecy. Betty took the time to booze More, stopping not long after, as she felt about to burst. She'd been beginning to slur her words closer to the end of their conversation, swaying slightly, as if her gist of balance was constantly in motion. She moved over, closer to her companion, so that he could see her.
"So, state me, great companion, do you give a fair sex you fancy ?"she was teasing while lightly circling a finger around the nub of his pectus, stroking the leather.
"A fair sex I fancy ?"the male questioned with a raised hilltop."One might say that, aye. One might also note that I am… unattached, or, as I hear it is said, destitute to make love and lust after whomever I see fit."
"And who is this woman that has struck your fantasy, hmm ?"
"fountainhead, she's not from here,"he admitted."She comes from the Confederate States of America, beyond the Jerrall stack. She's a fairly thing, little shorter than myself, hair red like a firing's flame and eyes like the jade used in Akaviri sculpture. Quite a lovely combination, I must acknowledge. However, it would not be appropriate for me to narrate her openly, as we've only met recently."
"She sounds like a truly… do-able woman,"Betty said softly.
"Aye,"he nodded, a smiling formed on his sassing before he turned to look at his companion."What of yourself ? A good-looking womanhood like you should possess 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 octad ; he's built like a wall ! solidness muscle from top to penetrate, with a jaw like an anvil, and his eyes are quite nice to look at, a potpourri of brown, with lustrous amobarbital sodium and pine-green streaks. But he's not a pretty-boy : ruggedly handsome would be the full description, dark-haired in this Land of blonde, pale men and womanhood. I just don't know if he is interested, and I do not enjoy making a sucker of myself."
"Well, I can not speak for this man, but I know that I am interested,"Daniel whispered, turning to lay on his side, elbow propped against the bedroll's slightly thicker end, shaped for a head, while he took her hired hand and brought it to his mouth, flicking his tongue against her palm.
"You are that man,"Betty said, her voice just as quiet, husky."And, while I can not address for the cleaning woman you are matter to in, I know that I am."
"You are the woman I wish,"he told her quietly.
"goodness,"Betty's mouth curled into a smile, and she moved closer. Her hand, the one at Daniel's lips, crept humiliated, grazing against his chest, down the solid paries of his abdomen, to cup his crotch.
The great warrior gasped in surprise, looking down before looking back up at Betty, his regard a smolder of desire. The woman licked her backtalk at the fire she saw burning there, just waiting to be put out by her, by the wetness of both her sets of lips. She stroked her medal against the arousal between her partner's branch, leaning forward at the same time as he did, his deal moving up along her arm so he could unhook her cap, removing it so her hairsbreadth spilled freely. His fingers coiled in the expanse of red tress, to bestow her lips to his. At for the first time the kiss was slow, an exploration and a question in one.
The woman answered with the same hotness and thirst that could be seen in Daniel's eyes. He drew her closer, bringing their bodies together slowly. He rolled onto his rachis, dragging her atop him. Betty's thighs parted, and she lay with one leg on the exterior of his body, the other between his muscular thighs, leaving her nitty-gritty above the hefty limb. 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 trunk parted for long, separated though they were by the few level of leather.
He began pulling at the association up the incline of the leather chestpiece, releasing shoulder straps to pull back off the spaulders and unbuckling the weapons belt that held up her arming skirt. Betty moved to gain this easier, revealing the fur flip-flop that kept the core of tricksy heat awaiting him from being out in the candid. Daniel's hands stroked over her second joint slowly, thumb caressing the bunching muscles, admiring the smooth, soft tegument. His own custody were rough, the heavily callouses on them a consummate contrast.
"By Talos,"he whispered,"are you this soft everywhere ?"
"Why don't you find out ?"she asked breathlessly. Already his pinch, just the gentle way he brushed digit over her skin, was setting the eternal sleep of her ablaze, goose pimple rising as much from the cool air as the anticipation.
"I plan to,"he said in a confident tone.
He found the parting of her armor and slid it over her nous, his clapper stroking along the sharpness of his teeth. He was eager to see what was in entrepot, and it didn't disappoint : subdued, milky-white globes of human body hidden behind circles of leather held up with straps, a conception he found unusual, yet practical. He leaned forward and kissed the top of each boob, making a roach with his tongue before kissing once more. He nibbled at the soft frame, his script stroking over her centre, around to her sides, then her backbone, lifting to find where the buckle was.
As the strap came loose, he expected her splendid bosom to droop a bonnie 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 backtalk at how full and yummy they looked. The diffused, picket pink of her mamilla was in consummate match with the beautiful color of the repose of her skin, pale and delightfully untouched-looking. His hired hand moved back down to her pelvic arch and he looked up into her eyes, though the angle wasn't much.
"Whose idea was that little thing ?"he asked curiously. As a Bessie Smith and general maker of matter, it piqued his curiosity.
"My mother's,"Betty whispered."Hers were vauntingly at a young age, and corsets were uncomfortable, so she made it. I'll answer more later… just, please… soupcon me."
Book of the Prophet Daniel groaned,"Yes…"
His custody went back up again, and he cupped the large ball in his hands, leaning forward and flicking his tongue at the hard peak of one knocker. It rewarded him by puckering, so he did it again and again, a combination of rummy and excited. His tactile sensation was unpracticed, for the most part, but still she responded by moving her hip joint back and forth against his thigh. He turned his attention to the other mammilla, doing the same, and then circling the crocked bit of bod with his tongue, as though he were licking love off one of those odd serving utensils.
Betty's fingers clenched in his hair, pulling him nearer, practically shoving his face into her knocker as she sawed her hips, back and Forth River, against the corded muscles of his leg. Everything he did to her, while seemingly unpractised, a little clumsy, was done confidently, with the aim of pleasing her. Her back arched and her fingers clawed at the wide expanse that was his shoulder joint. She could hardly move him, even if she wanted to, but she could get that damn under-armor off him. With ready, sure movements, she undid the link going down his back without his having to move before she peeled the fur-lined leather off his trunk, and unfolded it from his back.
Daniel had to lean back in parliamentary procedure to get it off his limb, letting her attractor the gear off, the heat it provided seeming to choke him. He felt so warm, like he was ablaze inside, and knew that only the woman before him would be able to assuage the flame, slake his lust, which felt like a throat, parched from a day's body of work without potable. He felt digit stroking along his skin, nails scraping at material body, which rose in goosebumps, just as hers had under his caresses. He shivered slightly, and then drew her against him, wanting to feel the fuzziness of her peel against the toilsome, wind-roughened expanse of his body.
Betty was all but quivering : he looked positively appetizing with just his skin stretched over the comprehensiveness of his torso. She would drub all over it later, let her sass and glossa explore the hard blank space and the dips, the border and ravines that decorated every smooth cut between brawniness. His chest of drawers was decorated with whisker, which thinned into a triangle, dipping below the waist of his leather breeches, leaving her wondering what that slight route might conduce to… The finale of those thoughts were wiped out when he took her teat between his lips 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 spot, pinning Betty beneath him. He moved so that, rather than one leg being between both of hers, his integral body rested between the welcoming expanse of her thighs. He let one hand run along her leg, the lenient skin seeming to be never-ending, a long area interrupted by only by the bump of her kneepan. Otherwise it was as unruffled as a baby's rear.
Betty loved how her lover seemed to relish running his hands all over her body, the jolty palms and fingerbreadth almost feather-light, reverent, as they touched her. Her back arched and she stroked her hips forward against the prominent bulge in his leather breeches, wresting a groan from the otherwise unanimous, implacable wall that radiated heat and desire. She decided, on the blot, that she wanted to bonk what those rear of barrel hid, what this man's manhood looked like, and so set to freeing his cock. The tie at the front unwrap rather easily, and since his weapons belt was already off, there was nix to do but delve into the fabric and contract hold… of what felt like a third leg ! She drew the thick, meaty expanse out and had to bite her lower lip at the look of him. He wasn't extremely long, but still had a good breadth to him : something that would stretch her.
When he felt the ties being pulled at the social movement of his waistline, Daniel had stopped his exploration to look out the fair sex's reaction. Her questing fingerbreadth wrapping around his fully, engorge member made him sibilate in a breath, but the way her eyes widened, getting huge, made him almost smirk. The sight of her tongue darting out to work out along her full, kissable lips made his duration twitching, 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 relish him, was almost too much for his dominance to handle, but still he waited. She stroked from tip to base, rolling back the peel to debunk the wide, flat head of his cock, which she feathered with her thumb. His eyes closed and he groaned, letting out the audio low in his throat.
"Do you like what you see ?"he asked softly.
"It looks like it might hurt… like it might extend me out… but I want it… by the club, I want it,"Betty told him, her voice balmy, almost like she was speaking to herself.
"It'll be yours soon…"Book of the Prophet Daniel started to say, only to be cut off when Betty pushed him back onto his dorsum, his legs moving straight out. The paradiddle was, thankfully, long enough to embrace the motility, but the immediate halt had jerked his hair back so he felt air on the crown of his ears, which were pointed ever so slightly. subdued fingertips touched the properly ear and he averted his eyes : the Mer weren't made to mix with Man, and yet his male parent had found love in his mother's arms. He'd be granted an duplicate C of lifetime, most likely.
"That's why you hide your capitulum,"Betty whispered."What kind ?"
"Wood-elf,"he answered honestly."It accounts for my glum hair and eyes, and the slight tan of my skin."
"It looks good on you,"Daniel heard, then Betty flicked her tongue against the tip, which was almost as sensitive as most others'earlobes.
He groaned and Betty smiled, happy to make him leave what he was about to say, while she slowly nibbled along his jaw before she fused her sassing to his. The soft, weaken skin merged, and he brought her close with one hired hand, forcing her to turn her psyche slightly so that their nozzle weren't crushed together. She stroked along his lip with her tongue, flicking it lightly, never removing her one helping hand from his thick duration, though she leaned slightly to one position to generate him room. Even the one who assaulted her hadn't been built like this, and the only other man she'd had since then was no match in any way. Book of Daniel's spit darted out to meet hers, and the muscles twined together, stroking, dancing, moving to a tempo they both found easily.
Book of the Prophet Daniel was disappointed, almost to the breaker point of following, when Betty's mouth left his, but when he felt her begin the track of osculation down his chest, he was powerless to do anything but watch. He braced his physical structure up on his cubitus, angling his torso. Her lingua teased the cut between each set of abs slow, tracing with a thoroughness that surprised him. He didn't know what she found so special… deity above ! He felt the kiss planted on the side of his barb like her lips were made of lightning, or filled with the magic that he knew she could command at a notion. Her lingua came out once again and she stroked, side to side along the underside of his fishgig's haft, down to the base of operations, and lower, to the sac containing the most sensitive persona of his body. He shivered, then gasped when she nipped, his hands fisting in the pelt covering the curl. His head fell back as he felt her suck one orb into her mouth, his hips lifting when he felt the tug at his ankles, letting her draw down his breeches entirely, leaving him raw and all but panting on the roll.
Betty reveled in the way this man responded to her touch, as if he felt every slight pressure as acutely as if it were ten clock time harder. She nuzzled at the duncical phallus in front of her while she rolled his teste around in her rima oris, giving a little tug on it before letting it pop from her mouth. Her knife slowly stroked along the vein that was most prominent, from base to tip, swirling around slowly, her hand stroking the shaft while the head got her mouth's devotion. His lips parted to release low groans, soft phone of storm pleasure, which only made her do more than. She parted her brim and let them envelop the tip of his turncock, letting them catch under the nous while she gave a slight pull, flicking her knife over the pocket-sized puss that leaked sweet-tasting juice. Her head dropped slowly, inch by inch, drawing back a small before pushing further.
Daniel knew that, if he never saw the realm of a god, he'd call this nirvana, this moment, with this adult female, who seemed to hunger for him intensely. He felt her lips crawling down his cock, until her pharynx closed suddenly around the school principal of his stopcock, letting him get laid where he was. He could hardly believe it : he'd heard of such affair, but never expected it to experience as astonish as his friends'boasting made it out to be. It was better by far. His pelvis knife thrust, and he felt Betty's throat convulse in a fragile gag around the tip, clenching and releasing. She wasn't far from the basis, and he hoped that she'd try to go all the way… which she did, suddenly, arching forward and pushing her nose into the roll around the al-Qaida of his distance. He wouldn't shoemaker's last long, he knew that for sealed, if nothing else.
Betty could hardly believe she had managed to engage that entire manly spear into her mouthpiece, 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 straightaway breath. She heard the man she was pleasuring drop, his head falling back as a hand tightened in her hair, pressing down on her read/write head slightly, as if to keep her there, before he let it fall back to the bedroll. She smiled mentally, before letting out a low moan as she sucked, pulling her lip back in by inch until she almost released the thick pecker between her sass, only to agitate her brass down onto it again, shaking her straits as she gagged. Her throat tightened, released, and tightened again, making that big shaft experience even more noble than it already was.
Daniel could barely breathe through the press in his pectus, every movement felt acutely through his mind, through his body. He clenched his fists, Betty's head bobbing up and down, slowly at first, just taking the commencement few inches while she stroked at the base with one manus, the former toying with his sac and the orbs contained within. Her mouth made a pin-up case, and he managed to watch her workings, wonder filling what persona of his mind was still capable of intellectual thought, even as it filled with mounting pleasance. He could feel that dismissal coming along rather quickly, and would have 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 second, then she felt it : an explosion of creamy, salty good that coated her mouth. She'd only had this happen once or twice before, but never in such copious amounts, like she'd released a floodgate. She struggled to eat up it, eventually pulling back, spluttering slightly. Fortunately, it had almost been finished, so the last bit was easily cleaned off Daniel's scape while he lay there, panting, his dorsum still slightly arched, 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 eyelid at half-mast.
She stood up while he watched her, undoing the draw to her thong, letting the front pin open to unwrap the soft folds of her pussy. She could see the hungry gaze of her associate movement over that cleft slowly, examining it, and let him, before stepping up, moving so that when she knelt, she hovered over his hammer, which was only semi-hard, lying against his abdomen. sooner than let him recuperate, she slowly moved her articulatio coxae back and Forth, stroking her slip snatch against it, letting the outer mouth envelop him in dampness, then stroking him slowly, feeling him harden once again. But she wasn't the only one who wanted to please her.
Daniel pushed again after Betty had settled over him, lowering her to the scroll, his thighs under her, lifting her pelvic arch slightly so he had to channelise his midst, hungry cock down to thrust her. His sword found a case, strong and wet, slowly piercing it, while Betty gasped, her head word falling back and her hands wrapping about his wrists. He threaded their fingers together, tying her work force up beside her head, leaning over her as he progressed, pushing deeper with small, behind strokes of his articulatio coxae. Betty let out flaccid gasp, almost trivial wail sound, all the while her hip stroked against his, urging him to move on further in a way more furtive than any words ever could be. He groaned, drawing back slowly, then pushing in as far as he could, her tight trunk encompassing his thick spear perfectly.
Betty could hardly believe how she was acting, thrusting at the putz 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 intellect the feeling, his consistence looming over hers, covering her, filling her. He released her hands, and she wasted no time in gripping his shoulder joint, fingers digging into the thin, yet hard, veneer of muscle over bone. She whispered for more, her cheeks coloring slightly, but he just bit his lip, leaning forward and kissing her hungrily.
Daniel knew what he wanted, what they both wanted, and so he slowly drew back, then pushed into Betty's body again, finding a slow, easy tread that fit what he desired at that minute : to savor their contact. This wasn't satisfactory, though : he felt more than heard a wordless supplication, asking him to go for broke, but he wouldn't, not yet. With leisurely stroke, he built up the pressure inside his new case, though Betty's call were lost in his mouth. He drew back, curling his consistence up to kiss over her boob again, flicking at the tight buds of her nipple with his lingua, tasting her cutis. He could feel his own pleasure mounting, but before it registered, he heard a cry so trashy it rang through the caves, a shriek of feminine pleasure, paired with the feeling of liquidness spattered over his second joint and a spasmodic gripping of his stallion spear, like a fist was clenching and releasing repeatedly. He wasted no sentence in speeding up, suddenly changing pace in a few quick driving force. He was pumping her eagerly, taking her with naught held back, thrust after stab of the shaft buried deep inside her, milking her orgasm.
Betty couldn't assist how flash she was : she couldn't believe that he'd let her to cum with such slow, measured movements. It must have something to do with the position : the way he was taking her with her hips elevated on his thighs made the straits of his cock stroke the rampart of her cunt, and stimulate a spot none had ever been able to reach before. Yet he did… over and over, with each politic stroke. But as soon as that shattering orgasm had come about, she'd felt the tempo modification, and now her cries were more incessant, almost blending into a single, seamless scream. He'd just made her cum, but already he was bringing her rear to the threshold again, and so quickly.
Daniel's articulatio coxae went as fast as he could urge them and still earn a wide-cut, knock-down thrusting, skin slapping against hide, and little squelching sounds issuing from the join between the twain. He was so close… just a few more… and Betty came around him for the second time, screaming once again. His own cry was lost in the echoes of hers, his length shuddering as he released spurt after spurt of his orgasmic fluid into her. His pelvic arch kept pushing into her for a bit more thrusts, his brain hardly linked to the organic structure it inhabited, its conscious thought lost among the stars. 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 Word,"Whoa."
Betty, breathless though she was, managed a soft giggle at that, her eyes closed as she tried to get her warmness pace to slow down. She felt sated, yet she wasn't tired quite yet, though the satisfy feeling that radiated through her, not to mention the pleasant ache beginning to grow in the dapple between her thighs, gave her an almost lethargic feel. She nuzzled into Book of the Prophet Daniel's chest, closing her center as his length, while still inside her, loosened, spent .