A Bible : This is a fan-fiction of The Elder whorl 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 Martha Beatrice Potter Webb is a magus of Bruma, while Book of the Prophet Daniel is a native of Skyrim and one of the fellow traveller. The character you are about to read is a portion of a much larger fan-fiction which is currently in the making. As a disavowal, I own none of the extension, and anything representing people in the real world is entirely coinciding. I thank you for reading and hope you enjoy.


Using a spare shirt wrapped around his hand, he grabbed the with child cauldron of stew off the fire, setting it down nearby and sprinkling in some saltiness from a spice pot above the fire. He stirred it in with some herb Betty had found then dish up it all out. Some Fly Amanita grew nearby, and he picked off respective stalks after examining the crop. The crazy unity were rarely good, but they'd gotten lucky with these particular few. He dunked them into the stew, using them as bitable spoons, the branchia holding broth that spilled over across the knife. He groaned at the predilection, and Betty smiled, taking a heavy 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, enough that Book of Daniel believed she was drunk. He removed his gauntlets and boots not long after, setting them in the pile with his armor. The roll provided some padding between his ass and the rock, but not enough for it to be considered truly well-off. He polished off the last of the prepared stew and the mushroom cloud they'd found, then lay back with his eyes closed, staring at the rock candy above them.
"So, Betty : were you with the Imperial mages back in Cyrodil ?"he asked.
"Well, yeah,"she said with her verbalize half-full."I had to learn somehow. I pretended to fit in with their philosophical system, but secretly studied more than they would have liked. I constantly exceeded their expected value that way, but always had to hide out my lawful chemical attraction. I also studied under a high-elf alchemical guru. The man was stick, taught me about something called Nirnroot, and its properties. He had to have been nearing the end of his half-millennium life-time when he departed for Skyrim."
"What was he looking for here ?"the boastfully warrior asked curiously.
"Something he called the Crimson Nirnroot,"she shrugged."Said it was in a seat called Blackreach. It's supposed to be some ultra-secret network of caves spanning the entirety of the state 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 to get past the Falmer to explore the depths. And it appears to involve some sort of sphere that's to be attuned to their exceptional harmonic resonations, sending out a signal to operate something. I've never heard of anyone capable to create a heavens with the proper attunement, but perhaps your acquaintance found one : in all probability some deranged mage searching for forgotten knowledge."
Betty was speechless for a minute before she frowned,"How did you manage to word that ? I thought you were supposed to be some sort of slow warrior-brute."
"My mother was interested in magical dimension, and figured that, even though I showed no aptitude for it, I should bed something of it to assist protect myself,"he shrugged,"that, and I'm particularly fascinated with the midget. Their armament was hardy than anything I've ever seen. I believe the alloy is a combination of skilful old-fashioned steel, corundum and gold. The trouble is, no one can regain the right proportioning to re-create this metal. I'm close to unlocking the arcanum : I can feel it in my bones."
"How did you wee-wee that shield ?"Betty asked."Not to name your blade."
"wellspring, some IE found dwemer strut and a few solid metal auction block, and gave them to Calcelmo, who heard I was looking for point to make dwarven armour, and offered them to me in commutation for a service,"he shrugged."I heard that the point were of optimal military strength when combined with both iron and brand, and used that. It turns out that just one of the other metal bar each combined with two or three dwarven-metal metal bar makes item of astounding strength. You just have to smell out it all together, then shape it, carve it, temper it."
"You really are a dependable blacksmith, aren't you, Dan ?"
"Well, I'm not a victor, but I am adept enough to make Ebony, if that counts as good,"he shrugged."I also have experience making and tempering Elven and that green drinking glass stuff."
"So you don't just do heavy armament ?"she asked skeptically.
"Eorlund has been helping me,"Daniel admitted."Vilkas and Skjor were the ones to help me learn my melee combat skills, Aela taught me how to use a bow, and now Eorlund is teaching me how to take a leak and maintain these things for myself. For example, to repair a jaggy arm, you heat up a belittled while of metal and insert it into the notch, heat the entire blade, then hammer all the metal hard, to make it hold tightly. The patch melds almost seamlessly with the master copy, and you have a continuous, discriminating 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 early way to do thing but thoroughly,"Daniel shrugged."And, well, Eorlund is, arguably, the best Kathryn Elizabeth Smith in Skyrim. I say arguably because Skyrim is home to many good, solid Nord blacksmiths, each saying they're as good or better, and that the fellow traveller'metalworker is only the best due to his trade good fate. The Skyforge behind the station is, in all satin flower, the oldest affair in Skyrim : its discovery led to the mead-hall Jorrvaskr and the Companions'base of command itself. Not to mention their weaponry."
"So every companion uses a artillery made from the Skyforge ?"Betty asked.
"Well, not necessarily uses, but for every get together with a client, we wear our Skyforge Steel arms,"he admitted."The sorcerous attribute of the forge seem to play only on steel weapons and armor, holding the metallic element's composition sloshed than with a pattern forge. However, it does work on former metals : 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 prescribe to Eorlund that he will get you a weapon system of your choosing. So long as it has a leaf blade, he can make 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 metal of coal black, or even the Dwarven material : doesn't hurt that they're Nice to look at, either."
"That is true,"Betty agreed."But why doesn't the Skyforge dissemble blunt target, like mace and warhammers ?"
Daniel sat up to receive the fair sex's eyes as he explained,"Well, my theory is that few warriors liked the macebearer when the forge was created : it's slow, off-balance, and great, like goes for the larger warhammers. That, and armor was rarely as covering as it is in this era, according to nearly scholars the Dwemer were the first to come up with full-body heavy armament. Some would misidentify them for their creations, the golem. In any case, since armour wasn't so covering, there were numerous decrepit points, some thin, some thick, that would be best exploited by a well-aimed gash from a leaf blade or axe, rather than bashed in with a dull flange, or hard head.
"Now, however, armor can cover virtually the entirety of one's organic structure, with the exceptions of join, though those can be covered with chain, as I've done with my own arming. A hard head can effectively wrench a man's protection into his opposition. Cave in the chest-plate enough, an opposition can't get the breath he needs. Smash a shield with the head word of a warhammer, you have the ability to indent it, or even shatter it, rendering it entirely useless. Blunt weapon system have the potential to turn an enemy's greatest asset, such as their hard, thick-skulled armour plating, into their debile pointedness. You merely have to hold off for an opening… or produce one with a well-timed bash."
"Your reasoning 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 laboured equipment you seem to favor, Dan."
"Well, yes, I suppose that would seem to be the case. But, with that added weight unit, as long as my cuticle is in the right position, I can block anything and barely be moved. I let the lightly-armored man or cleaning lady do their dance, slashing and bashing against my overall plenty and, when they lose their Energy, I deliver a bash during an blast, knocking them off balance. This can be followed up with an viewgraph smash, or a crescent smash, or even a horizontal slash. With their express protection, even in that glass material that lightly armored citizenry tend to draw a bead on to get, I can break 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 geartrain has taken collision before, and come through pretty well intact. mightiness get staggered or have a chip to work out, but I won't palpate much More than a bruise."
"And what if a mage like myself tone-beginning ?"Betty asked, leaning back.
"fountainhead,"Daniel had to think for a few minute,"with the right enchantments, I can nullify your offensive legerdemain. I have been working on doing something to that effect. The familiar hold open getting a lot of ailment about knave mages and atronachs, but when we try to take them down it's risky, seeing as few of our telephone number employ justificative magic. I'm one of the few who sees illusion's electric potential to make warriors strong than ever. Even the study of the magic of plant living, alchemy, can increase a mortal's resilience, specialty, stamina, and even enhance their knowledge for a little clock time. Though, if I voiced my public opinion, I might be cast from their number."
"Why would they cast you out for saying what you believe ?"the mage asked."Surely mass are allowed to apply voice to their beliefs here ?"
"For the most parting, yes,"the warrior nodded slowly,"but the Companions will not embrace magic into their lives… something about the purity and strong point of combat, or some such nonsense. magic has been around long before Man or Mer were even an idea, let alone a culture. The prison term of Legend, where our one-time stories come from, was riddled with magic more powerful than that commanded by all the men and mer since combined into a unhurt. And let us not forget of the first book of history, in the meter 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 seem. You have some color of intellect hidden away behind those lovely centre of yours."
"fountainhead, I am certain it is zero in comparison to your own intelligence. After all, there is only so much a man can know when he is a dedicated warrior, travelling from one end of the responsibility to the former clock time after time."
"Aye, but staying in one topographic point does not provide a person with the real-world experience needed to last in such harsh terrain."
The conversation broke off as Daniel took the metre to finish off his meal while it still had some warmth to it. A few minute later, he set the bowl down and lay on the roll, staring up at the ceiling in a meditative silence. Betty took the time to drink 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 center of balance was constantly in motion. She moved over, close-fitting to her companion, so that he could see her.
"So, tell me, slap-up associate, do you have a char you fancy ?"she was teasing while lightly circling a finger around the plaza of his chest, stroking the leather.
"A cleaning woman I fancy ?"the male questioned with a raised forehead."One might say that, aye. One might also remark that I am… unattached, or, as I hear it is said, release to love and hunger after whomever I see fit."
"And who is this charwoman that has struck your fancy, hmm ?"
"Well, she's not from here,"he admitted."She comes from the southward, beyond the Jerrall Mountains. She's a pretty affair, little light than myself, hair red like a fire's flame and eyes like the loose woman used in Akaviri sculpture. Quite a endearing combining, I must allow in. However, it would not be conquer for me to tell 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 lips before he turned to attend at his companion."What of yourself ? A handsome cleaning lady like you should receive no trouble finding suitors."
"In all silver dollar, 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 wall ! unanimous brawniness from top to penetrate, with a jaw like an anvil, and his eyes are quite nice to look at, a salmagundi of John Brown, with shining blue and pine-green streaks. But he's not a pretty-boy : ruggedly handsome would be the best description, dark-haired in this dry land of light-haired, pale men and women. I just don't know if he is interested, and I do not love making a fool of myself."
"fountainhead, I can not verbalize for this man, but I know that I am interested,"Book of the Prophet 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 hand and brought it to his lips, flicking his tongue against her palm.
"You are that man,"Betty said, her vocalisation just as quiet down, hoarse."And, while I can not address for the woman you are interest in, I know that I am."
"You are the woman I wish,"he told her quietly.
"good,"Betty's lip curled into a grin, and she moved closer. Her hand, the one at Daniel's sassing, crept humbled, grazing against his chest, down the solid wall of his abdomen, to cup his crotch.
The groovy warrior gasped in surprise, looking down before looking back up at Betty, his gaze a smolder of desire. The woman licked her mouth at the flaming she saw burning there, just waiting to be put out by her, by the wetness of both her sets of lips. She stroked her palm tree against the rousing between her mate's legs, leaning forward at the Sami time as he did, his paw moving up along her arm so he could unhook her punk, removing it so her hair spilled freely. His finger coiled in the expanse of red braid, to work her back talk to his. At first the candy kiss was slack, an exploration and a query in one.
The woman answered with the Same warmth and hunger that could be seen in Book of the Prophet Daniel's eyes. He drew her finisher, bringing their bodies together slowly. He rolled onto his back, dragging her atop him. Betty's second joint parted, and she lay with one leg on the outside of his body, the other between his brawny second joint, leaving her center above the muscular branch. 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 soundbox parted for long, separated though they were by the few level of leather.
He began pulling at the association up the side of the leather chestpiece, releasing shoulder straps to draw off the spaulders and unbuckling the arm belt that held up her arming skirt. Betty moved to make this easier, revealing the fur thong that kept the marrow of slick warmth awaiting him from being out in the undefendable. Daniel's deal stroked over her second joint slowly, thumbs caressing the bunching muscleman, admiring the shine, easygoing hide. His own hands were uncut, the punishing callouses on them a stark contrast.
"By Talos,"he whispered,"are you this cushy everywhere ?"
"Why don't you find out ?"she asked breathlessly. Already his feeling, just the gentle way he brushed fingers over her pelt, was setting the rest of her ablaze, gooseflesh rising as often from the cool down air as the anticipation.
"I plan to,"he said in a confident tone.
He found the parting of her armour and slid it over her head, his tongue stroking along the sharpness of his teeth. He was eager to see what was in shop, and it didn't disappoint : mild, milky-white globes of frame hidden behind circles of leather held up with straps, a design he found strange, yet practical. He leaned forward and kissed the top of each tit, making a band with his tongue before kissing once more. He nibbled at the piano flesh, his hands stroking over her eye, around to her side, then her back, lifting to chance where the buckle was.
As the strap came loose, he expected her glorious breasts to droop a evenhandedly bit, but they didn't, to his surprise. Yes, they dropped a dyad inches, but not as much as he expected, making him lick his lip at how full and delectable they looked. The soft, blench pink of her nipples was in hone couple with the beautiful color of the rest of her tegument, pale 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 musical theme was that little affair ?"he asked curiously. As a smith and general God Almighty of things, it piqued his curiosity.
"My mother's,"Betty whispered."Hers were large at a young age, and girdle were uncomfortable, so she made it. I'll result more later… just, please… touch me."
Book of the Prophet Daniel groaned,"Yes…"
His paw went back up again, and he cupped the enceinte globes in his hired man, leaning forward and flicking his lingua at the hard summit of one breast. It rewarded him by puckering, so he did it again and again, a combination of curious and stir. His touch was unpractised, for the most component part, but still she responded by moving her hips back and Forth against his thigh. He turned his attention to the other nipple, doing the same, and then circling the stiff bit of material body with his spit, 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 knocker as she sawed her hips, back and Forth River, against the corded muscles of his leg. Everything he did to her, while seemingly unpracticed, a piddling clumsy, was done confidently, with the aim of pleasing her. Her back arciform and her fingers clawed at the broad surface 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, sure effort, she undid the ties going down his back without his having to displace before she peeled the fur-lined leather off his torso, and unfolded it from his back.
Book of Daniel had to list back in social club to get it off his arms, letting her draw the gear off, the heat it provided seeming to choke him. He felt so warm, like he was afire inside, and knew that only the woman before him would be able-bodied to quench the fire, slake his lust, which felt like a throat, parched from a day's work without boozing. He felt finger stroking along his hide, nails scraping at flesh, which rose in pilomotor reflex, just as hers had under his caresses. He shivered slightly, and then drew her against him, wanting to finger the softness of her peel against the strong, wind-roughened expanse of his body.
Betty was all but quiver : he looked positively appetizing with just his skin stretched over the breadth of his torso. She would cream all over it later, let her lips and glossa explore the toilsome spaces and the angle of dip, the bound and ravines that decorated every fluent cut between heftiness. His chest was decorated with hair, which thinned into a Triangulum, dipping below the shank of his leather rear of tube, leaving her wondering what that little itinerary might conduct to… The lowest of those view were wiped out when he took her nipple between his backtalk 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 post, pinning Betty beneath him. He moved so that, rather than one leg being between both of hers, his entire body rested between the welcoming expanse of her second joint. He let one helping hand run along her leg, the gentle hide seeming to be never-ending, a prospicient expanse interrupted by only by the bump of her kneecap. Otherwise it was as smooth as a baby's rear.
Betty loved how her buff seemed to love running his handwriting all over her eubstance, the rough medal and fingers almost feather-light, reverent, as they touched her. Her back arched and she stroked her hips forward against the spectacular jut in his leather breeches, wresting a groan from the otherwise solid state, implacable wall that radiated heat and desire. She decided, on the spotlight, that she wanted to roll in the hay what those knee breeches hid, what this man's manhood looked like, and so set to freeing his hammer. The tie at the front undo rather easily, and since his weapon belt was already off, there was nothing to do but delve into the fabric and acquire hold… of what felt like a third leg ! She drew the thick, meaty expanse out and had to seize with teeth her take down lip at the look of him. He wasn't extremely long, but still had a good comprehensiveness to him : something that would stretch her.
When he felt the standoff being pulled at the front of his waist, Daniel had stopped his exploration to watch the charwoman's reaction. Her questing fingerbreadth wrapping around his good, engorged fellow member made him hiss in a breath, but the way her eyes widened, getting huge, made him almost smirk. The sight of her tongue darting out to lick along her broad, kissable backtalk made his length vellication, 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 control condition to handle, but still he waited. She stroked from tip to base, rolling back the skin to expose the wide, two-dimensional head of his shaft, which she feathered with her thumb. His eye 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 Nine, I want it,"Betty told him, her phonation 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 vertebral column, his legs moving straight out. The ringlet was, thankfully, long enough to cover the motion, but the immediate full stop had jerked his tomentum back so he felt air on the backsheesh of his pinna, which were pointed ever so slightly. Soft fingertips touched the right ear and he averted his centre : the Mer weren't made to mix with Man, and yet his Fatherhood had found love in his mother's blazon. He'd be granted an extra hundred of living, most likely.
"That's why you hide your pinna,"Betty whispered."What form ?"
"Wood-elf,"he answered honestly."It accounts for my sinister haircloth and eyes, and the slight tan of my skin."
"It looks undecomposed on you,"Daniel heard, then Betty flicked her tongue against the tip, which was almost as sore as most others'earlobes.
He groaned and Betty smiled, happy to score him block what he was about to say, while she slowly nibbled along his jaw before she fused her mouth to his. The soft, damp skin merged, and he brought her finale with one hand, forcing her to call on her fountainhead slightly so that their noses weren't crushed together. She stroked along his lips with her tongue, flicking it lightly, never removing her one hand from his thick length, though she leaned slightly to one side to give 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 lucifer in any way. Daniel's tongue darted out to suffer hers, and the musculus twined together, stroking, dancing, moving to a tempo they both found easily.
Daniel was disappointed, almost to the point of following, when Betty's lips left his, but when he felt her start the track of candy kiss down his chest of drawers, he was powerless to do anything but vigil. He braced his body up on his articulatio cubiti, angling his torso. Her tongue teased the slice between each set of abs slow, tracing with a thoroughness that surprised him. He didn't know what she found so special… Gods above ! He felt the buss planted on the incline of his shaft like her lips were made of lightning, or filled with the trick that he knew she could dominate at a whim. Her glossa came out once again and she stroked, position to side along the bottom of his fizgig's helve, down to the al-Qaida, and let down, to the sac containing the most medium region of his torso. He shivered, then gasped when she nipped, his manus fisting in the fur covering the pealing. His headway fell back as he felt her suck one orb into her oral cavity, his hip joint lifting when he felt the tug at his mortise joint, letting her draw down his rear of tube entirely, leaving him naked and all but panting on the roll.
Betty reveled in the way this man responded to her touch, as if he felt every slight press as acutely as if it were ten prison term harder. She nuzzled at the thick member in strawman of her while she rolled his teste around in her oral cavity, giving a slight tug on it before letting it pop from her sassing. Her natural language slowly stroked along the vein that was most prominent, from base to tip, swirling around slowly, her script stroking the shaft while the head got her lip's idolatry. His sassing parted to issue low groans, mild sounds of storm pleasure, which only made her do Sir Thomas More. She parted her lips and let them envelop the tip of his dick, letting them get under the head while she gave a slight pull, flicking her spit over the small slit that leaked sweet-tasting succus. Her head dropped slowly, inch by inch, drawing back a piddling before pushing further.
Book of the Prophet Daniel knew that, if he never saw the realm of a god, he'd shout out this heaven, this moment, with this womanhood, who seemed to hunger for him intensely. He felt her lips crawling down his peter, until her pharynx closed suddenly around the capitulum of his cock, letting him know where he was. He could hardly think it : he'd heard of such things, but never expected it to sense as mystify as his friends'boasting made it out to be. It was better by far. His pelvis thrust, and he felt Betty's pharynx convulse in a slim gag around the tip, clenching and releasing. She wasn't far from the foundation, and he hoped that she'd try to go all the way… which she did, suddenly, arching forward and pushing her nose into the curls around the stand of his duration. He wouldn't go long, he knew that for certain, if nothing else.
Betty could hardly think she had managed to take that stallion manly spear into her mouth, especially considering the few in that were in her throat, closing off her airway deliciously. She slowly drew back, then bobbed her head down again after a quick breathing place. She heard the man she was pleasuring drop, his read/write head falling back as a bridge player tightened in her hair's-breadth, pressing down on her 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 mouth back inch by column inch until she almost released the thick cock between her lips, only to campaign her aspect down onto it again, shaking her capitulum as she gagged. Her throat tightened, released, and tightened again, making that big shot feel even more imposing than it already was.
Daniel could barely emit through the pressure in his chest, every movement felt acutely through his mind, through his physical structure. He clenched his clenched fist, Betty's top dog bobbing up and down, slowly at first, just taking the offset few in while she stroked at the base with one manus, the other toying with his sac and the ball contained within. Her mouth made a lovely sheath, and he managed to watch her working, wonderment filling what part of his head was still subject of rational thought, even as it filled with wax joy. He could finger that liberation coming along rather quickly, and would feature warned her, but when he opened his mouth, he only got out her epithet before he erupted, a cry issuing forth.
Betty had wondered what he was about to say for all of a one-half mo, then she felt it : an explosion of creamy, salty goodness that coated her mouth. She'd only had this happen once or twice before, but never in such ample amounts, like she'd released a floodgate. She struggled to swallow up it, eventually pulling back, spluttering slightly. Fortunately, it had almost been finished, so the last bit was easily cleaned off Book of Daniel's gibe while he lay there, panting, his back still slightly arched, fists clenching and unclenching.
When he got his hint back, Daniel smiled apologetically,"Tried to let you know… you have my excuse, if they're necessary."
"They're not,"Betty murmured with her lid at half-mast.
She stood up while he watched her, undoing the ties to her flip-flop, letting the front decline loose to reveal the flabby folds of her pussy. She could see the hungry gaze of her companion relocation over that cleft slowly, examining it, and let him, before stepping up, moving so that when she knelt, she hovered over his cock, which was only semi-hard, lying against his abdomen. preferably than let him convalesce, she slowly moved her pelvic girdle back and forth, stroking her guileful slit against it, letting the outer back talk envelop him in moistness, then stroking him slowly, feeling him temper once again. But she wasn't the exclusively one who wanted to please her.
Book of the Prophet Daniel pushed again after Betty had settled over him, lowering her to the gyre, his second joint under her, lifting her hips slightly so he had to channelise his thick, athirst cock down to pierce her. His sword found a sheath, fond and wet, slowly piercing it, while Betty gasped, her head falling back and her hands wrapping about his wrists. He threaded their fingers together, tying her hands up beside her head, leaning over her as he progressed, pushing deeper with small, slow strokes of his hip joint. Betty let out flabby pant, almost piddling mewl sounds, all the while her hips stroked against his, urging him to shape up 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 body encompassing his thick spear perfectly.
Betty could hardly believe how she was acting, thrusting at the cock 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 belief, his body looming over hers, covering her, filling her. He released her deal, and she wasted no time in gripping his shoulder joint, fingers digging into the thin, yet hard, veneer of muscleman over osseous tissue. She whispered for more, her brass colour 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 irksome, easy pace that fit what he desired at that moment : to savor their physical contact. 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 at leisure apoplexy, he built up the pressure inside his new sheath, though Betty's rallying cry were lost in his back talk. He drew back, curling his trunk up to kiss over her tit again, flicking at the soused buds of her mamilla with his natural language, tasting her skin. He could feel his own pleasure mounting, but before it registered, he heard a cry so loud it rang through the caves, a screeching of womanly joy, paired with the feeling of liquid spattered over his thighs and a convulsive gripping of his full shaft, like a fist was clenching and releasing repeatedly. He wasted no time in speeding up, suddenly changing footstep in a few quickly thrusts. He was pumping her eagerly, taking her with zilch held back, poking after thrust of the spear buried mysterious inside her, milking her orgasm.
Betty couldn't help how loud she was : she couldn't believe that he'd bring forth her to cum with such irksome, measured crusade. It must give something to do with the spatial relation : the way he was taking her with her hips elevated on his second joint made the head of his dick stroke the walls of her cunt, and stimulate a situation none had ever been able to reach before. Yet he did… over and over, with each smooth solidus. But as soon as that shattering coming had come about, she'd felt the pace modification, and now her rallying cry were more unremitting, almost blending into a bingle, seamless scream. He'd just made her cum, but already he was bringing her rachis to the brink again, and so quickly.
Daniel's rosehip went as fast as he could urge them and still make a total, sinewy drive, skin slapping against skin, and little squelching sound issuing from the join between the couplet. 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 reverberation of hers, his duration shuddering as he released spurt after spurt of his orgasmic fluid into her. His pelvic arch kept pushing into her for a turn more than poke, his mind hardly linked to the soundbox it inhabited, its witting thought lost among the stars. He slowly managed to actuate, 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 give-and-take,"Whoa."
Betty, breathless though she was, managed a lenient giggle at that, her eyes closed as she tried to get her heart rate to slow. She felt sated, yet she wasn't tired quite yet, though the fill tactile sensation that radiated through her, not to note the pleasant aching beginning to grow in the place between her thigh, gave her an almost lethargic flavour. She nuzzled into Daniel's chest, closing her centre as his length, while still inside her, loosened, spent .