A Holy Scripture : This is a fan-fiction of The Elder curlicue V : Skyrim. The warriors within have just finished clearing out Embershard Mine, not far from Riverwood, and are experiencing their desires for each other. Young Betty First Baron Passfield is a magus of Bruma, while Daniel is a native of Skyrim and one of the Companions. The part you are about to take is a portion of a much magnanimous fan-fiction which is currently in the devising. As a disavowal, I own none of the references, and anything representing people in the material world is entirely cooccurring. I thank you for reading and hope you enjoy.


Using a spare shirt wrapped around his hand, he grabbed the large cauldron of stew off the fire, 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 serve up it all out. Some Fly Amanita grew nearby, and he picked off respective shuck after examining the crop. The wild 1 were rarely adept, but they'd gotten lucky with these particular few. He dunked them into the stew, using them as bitable spoonful, the gills holding broth that spilled over across the knife. He groaned at the taste, and Betty smiled, taking a expectant helping. She also grabbed some of the ale that they'd found, respective bottles, in fact, passing two to Daniel, but keeping the rest for herself.
She ate and drank quite a bit, enough that Daniel believed she was drunk. He removed his gauntlets and boot not long after, setting them in the voltaic pile with his armour. The cast provided some padding between his ass and the rock, but not enough for it to be considered truly well-to-do. He polished off the in conclusion of the get up stew and the mushrooms they'd found, then lay back with his optic 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 mouth half-full."I had to learn somehow. I pretended to fit in with their philosophy, but secretly studied to a greater extent than they would have liked. I constantly exceeded their first moment that way, but always had to hide my truthful phylogenetic relation. I also studied under a high-elf alchemic guru. The man was astonish, taught me about something called Nirnroot, and its properties. He had to deliver 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 Crimson Nirnroot,"she shrugged."Said it was in a place called Blackreach. It's supposed to be some ultra-secret network of caves spanning the entirety of the province that the dwarves used at the height of their civilization."
"I've heard of it,"Daniel admitted."Largely a fable, considering no one has been able to get past the Falmer to explore the depth. And it appears to require some form of sphere that's to be attuned to their particular harmonic resonations, sending out a signaling to operate something. I've never heard of anyone capable to create a sphere with the proper attunement, but perhaps your acquaintance found one : in all probability some craze mage searching for bury knowledge."
Betty was speechless for a moment before she frowned,"How did you do to Holy Writ that ? I thought you were supposed to be some sort of speechless warrior-brute."
"My mother was concern in witching properties, 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 gnome. Their armament was stout than anything I've ever seen. I believe the metal is a combination of good ex steel, corundom and atomic number 79. The job is, no one can feel the proper proportioning to re-create this metal. I'm close to unlocking the secret : I can feel it in my bones."
"How did you make that shield ?"Betty asked."Not to mention your blade."
"Well, some Internet Explorer found dwemer prance and a few solid metallic element blocks, and gave them to Calcelmo, who heard I was looking for items to constitute dwarven armor, and offered them to me in commutation for a Robert William Service,"he shrugged."I heard that the detail were of optimal strength when combined with both iron and steel, and used that. It turns out that just one of the other block of metal each combined with two or three dwarven-metal ingots makes token of astounding intensity. You just have to smelt it all together, then frame it, carve it, temper it."
"You really are a unspoilt blacksmith, aren't you, Dan ?"
"well, I'm not a overlord, but I am good enough to make Ebony, if that counts as good,"he shrugged."I also have experience making and tempering Elven and that green 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 one to facilitate me hear my melee combat skills, Aela taught me how to use a bow, and now Eorlund is teaching me how to throw and keep up these things for myself. For instance, to recreate a notched weapon, you heat up a minuscule piece of metallic element and stick in it into the nick, heat the total sword, 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, penetrating edge."
"well, I guess you really do make love 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 affair 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 state Nord blacksmiths, each saying they're as good or better, and that the Companions'Kathryn Elizabeth Smith is only the in force due to his good fortune. The Skyforge behind the situation is, in all satin flower, the oldest thing in Skyrim : its discovery led to the mead-hall Jorrvaskr and the Companions'foundation of mastery itself. Not to advert their weaponry."
"So every companion uses a weapon made from the Skyforge ?"Betty asked.
"Well, not necessarily uses, but for every meeting with a client, we wear our Skyforge steel weaponry,"he admitted."The magical properties of the smithy seem to form only on steel weapons and armour, holding the metal's composition close than with a normal smithy. However, it does crop on early metal : my shield, steel and Chemical Mace were made in the Skyforge's blast. They've never required maintenance."
"That's astounding,"Betty said softly."Do I get a weapon… ?"
"Well, you have to go on your test, first,"Daniel shrugged."Afterwards, Kodlak will dictate to Eorlund that he will make you a weapon of your choosing. So long as it has a blade, he can crap it. Blunt weapon are something the Skyforge does not affect all that much, sadly enough. That's why I prefer to use the harder, rarer metal of Ebony, or even the Dwarven stuff and nonsense : doesn't hurt that they're prissy to look at, either."
"That is on-key,"Betty agreed."But why doesn't the Skyforge impact blunt object, like mace and warhammers ?"
Daniel sat up to conform to the woman's eyes as he explained,"well, my hypothesis is that few warriors liked the mace when the forge was created : it's slow, off-balance, and heavy, Lapp goes for the larger warhammers. That, and armour was rarely as covering as it is in this era, according to most scholars the Dwemer were the number one to fall up with full-body impenetrable arming. Some would mistake them for their creations, the automatons. In any outcome, since armour wasn't so covering, there were numerous washy point in time, some thin, some midst, that would be best exploited by a well-aimed slice from a blade or axe, rather than bashed in with a dull flange, or wakeless head.
"Now, however, armor can cover virtually the entirety of one's organic structure, with the exclusion of joint, though those can be covered with chain, as I've done with my own armament. A severe principal can effectively turn a man's aegis into his enemy. Cave in the chest-plate enough, an opposition can't get the breath he needs. break a cuticle with the head of a warhammer, you have the power to dent it, or even shatter it, rendering it entirely useless. Blunt weapons have the potential to twist an opposition's keen asset, such as their hard, chummy armor metal plating, into their light spot. You merely have to look for an opening… or produce one with a well timed bash."
"Your reasoning is sound,"the red chief nodded."But what about when a lightly-armored bandit comes at you ? You are at a disadvantage then, lugging around the dense equipment you seem to prefer, Dan."
"Well, yes, I suppose that would seem to be the case. But, with that added exercising weight, as long as my shell is in the right position, I can block anything and barely be moved. I let the lightly-armored man or charwoman do their dance, slashing and bashing against my overall pot and, when they lose their get-up-and-go, I deliver a bash during an flak, knocking them off rest. This can be followed up with an overhead bash, or a crescent strike, or even a horizontal slash. With their limit protective cover, even in that Glass stuff that lightly armored masses tend to aspire to get, I can break them in a matter of a few hits. I will allow that, if someone gets in my blind spot, I'll have an issue turning to meet the strike, but my gearing has taken hits before, and come through pretty well inviolate. mightiness get staggered or have a cow 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 the Prophet Daniel had to remember for a few import,"with the right enchantment, I can contradict your violative deception. I have been working on doing something to that effect. The fellow traveller retain getting a lot of charge about scallywag mages and atronachs, but when we try to bring them down it's risky, seeing as few of our number employ justificative magic. I'm one of the few who sees magic's potential drop to pee-pee warriors impregnable than ever. Even the study of the magic of plant life living, chemistry, can increase a mortal's resilience, strength, staying power, and even enhance their knowledge for a short clock time. Though, if I voiced my opinion, I might be cast from their number."
"Why would they draw you out for saying what you believe ?"the mage asked."Surely people are allowed to feed representative to their beliefs here ?"
"For the about office, yes,"the warrior nodded slowly,"but the comrade will not embrace magic into their lives… something about the purity and strength of scrap, or some such nonsense. Magic has been around long before Man or Mer were even an mind, let alone a civilisation. The prison term of Legend, where our oldest report come from, was riddled with magic more hefty than that commanded by all the men and mer since combined into a entirely. And let us not forget of the kickoff platter of story, 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 semblance of intellectual hidden away behind those lovely middle of yours."
"Well, I am sure enough it is cypher in comparing to your own intelligence activity. After all, there is only so a great deal a man can know when he is a give warrior, travelling from one end of the province to the former clock time after time."
"Aye, but staying in one place does not provide a person with the real-world experience needed to survive in such harsh terrain."
The conversation broke off as Book of the Prophet Daniel took the clock time to cease off his repast while it still had some affectionateness to it. A few min later, he set the bowlful down and lay on the roll, staring up at the ceiling in a contemplative secretiveness. Betty took the clock time to pledge more than, stopping not long after, as she felt about to explode. She'd been beginning to slur her Good Book closer to the end of their conversation, swaying slightly, as if her center of balance was constantly in apparent motion. She moved over, snug to her comrade, so that he could see her.
"So, tell me, peachy fellow, do you have a adult female you fancy ?"she was teasing while lightly circling a fingerbreadth around the meat of his chest, stroking the leather.
"A char I fancy ?"the male person questioned with a raised hilltop."One might say that, aye. One might also mark that I am… unattached, or, as I hear it is said, justify to love and lust after whomever I see fit."
"And who is this woman that has struck your fancy, hmm ?"
"Well, she's not from here,"he admitted."She comes from the south, beyond the Jerrall peck. She's a pretty thing, little inadequate than myself, hair red like a fire's flame and centre like the jade used in Akaviri sculpture. Quite a pin-up combination, I must admit. However, it would not be appropriate for me to state 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 lips before he turned to calculate at his familiar."What of yourself ? A good-looking fair sex like you should feature 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 muscular tissue from top to bottom, with a jaw like an anvil, and his eyes are quite nice to look at, a assortment of brown, with bright blue and pine-green streaks. But he's not a pretty-boy : ruggedly handsome would be the in force description, dark-haired in this land of light-haired, pale men and cleaning lady. I just don't know if he is interested, and I do not love making a mark of myself."
"Well, 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 incline, elbow propped against the bedroll's slightly thicker end, shaped for a head, while he took her hand and brought it to his rim, flicking his tongue against her palm.
"You are that man,"Betty said, her voice just as quieten, gruff."And, while I can not speak for the woman you are concern in, I know that I am."
"You are the woman I wish,"he told her quietly.
"goodness,"Betty's lips curled into a smile, and she moved closer. Her hired man, the one at Daniel's mouth, crept lower, 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 gaze a smolder of desire. The woman licked her lips at the flak she saw burning there, just waiting to be put out by her, by the wetness of both her Set of lips. She stroked her palm against the arousal between her partner's stage, leaning forward at the same time as he did, his hand moving up along her arm so he could unhook her punk, removing it so her fuzz spilled freely. His digit coiled in the expanse of red braid, to bring her lips to his. At number 1 the buss was obtuse, an exploration and a head in one.
The woman answered with the Saame heat and hunger that could be seen in Daniel's center. He drew her closer, bringing their physical structure together slowly. He rolled onto his back, dragging her atop him. Betty's thighs parted, and she lay with one leg on the exterior of his body, the former between his powerful thighs, leaving her center above the muscular tree 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 motility followed by Book of Daniel, who didn't want their body parted for long, separated though they were by the few bed of leather.
He began pulling at the ties up the sides of the leather chestpiece, releasing shoulder shoulder strap to pull off the spaulders and unbuckling the weapons belt that held up her arming skirt. Betty moved to draw this easier, revealing the fur thong that kept the nitty-gritty of slick heat awaiting him from being out in the open. Book of Daniel's hands stroked over her thigh slowly, thumbs caressing the bunching muscularity, admiring the unruffled, diffused skin. His own hand were jolting, the hard callouses on them a stark contrast.
"By Talos,"he whispered,"are you this soft everywhere ?"
"Why don't you find out ?"she asked breathlessly. Already his touch, just the gentle way he brushed fingers over her peel, was setting the rest of her ablaze, gooseflesh rising as much from the cool air as the anticipation.
"I plan to,"he said in a surefooted tone.
He found the parting of her armor and slid it over her headway, his tongue 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 dress circle of leather held up with straps, a intent he found strange, yet practical. He leaned forward and kissed the top of each breast, making a circle with his tongue before kissing once more. He nibbled at the soft flesh, his hands stroking over her middle, around to her position, then her back, lifting to discover where the buckle was.
As the strap came loose, he expected her glorious boob to droop a fairly bit, but they didn't, to his surprisal. Yes, they dropped a couple inches, but not as much as he expected, making him lick his lips at how good and delicious they looked. The soft, pale pinko of her nipples was in perfect lucifer with the beautiful color of the rest of her skin, picket and delightfully untouched-looking. His hands moved back down to her rosehip and he looked up into her centre, though the angle wasn't much.
"Whose idea was that little thing ?"he asked curiously. As a smith and general maker of thing, it piqued his curiosity.
"My female parent's,"Betty whispered."Hers were large at a untried age, and stays were uncomfortable, so she made it. I'll response more later… just, please… skin senses me."
Daniel groaned,"Yes…"
His manus went back up again, and he cupped the large globes in his hands, leaning forward and flicking his tongue at the hard eyeshade of one breast. It rewarded him by puckering, so he did it again and again, a combination of odd and shake. His pinch was unpracticed, for the most region, but still she responded by moving her articulatio coxae back and Forth River against his thigh. He turned his tending to the former nipple, doing the same, and then circling the stringent bit of flesh with his clapper, as though he were licking dear off one of those odd serving utensils.
Betty's digit clenched in his tomentum, pulling him closer, practically shoving his face into her chest as she sawed her pelvic girdle, back and Forth, against the cord muscles 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 arched and her fingers clawed at the broad expanse that was his articulatio humeri. She could hardly be active him, even if she wanted to, but she could get that damn under-armor off him. With quick, certain movements, she undid the tie-in going down his dorsum without his having to run before she peeled the fur-lined leather off his body, and unfolded it from his back.
Book of Daniel had to list back in purchase order to get it off his arms, letting her draw the gear off, the rut it provided seeming to choke him. He felt so lovesome, like he was ablaze inside, and knew that only the fair sex before him would be able-bodied to quench the flame, slake his lust, which felt like a pharynx, parched from a day's study without drink. He felt fingers stroking along his skin, nails scraping at shape, which rose in goose skin, just as hers had under his caresses. He shivered slightly, and then drew her against him, wanting to feel the gentleness of her pelt against the backbreaking, wind-roughened expanse of his body.
Betty was all but shaking : he looked positively appetizing with just his peel stretched over the breadth of his trunk. She would lick all over it later, let her lips and knife explore the intemperately spaces and the angle of dip, the border and ravines that decorated every legato cut between muscularity. His breast was decorated with pilus, which thinned into a trilateral, dipping below the waist of his leather knee breeches, leaving her wondering what that trivial track might lead to… The last of those view were wiped out when he took her nipple between his brim and suckled softly.
Daniel knew what he wanted… knew where it was located, but didn't want to stop over 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 intact consistence rested between the welcoming expanse of her thighs. He let one paw run along her leg, the soft peel seeming to be unceasing, a long area interrupted by only by the bump of her patella. Otherwise it was as fluid as a baby's rear.
Betty loved how her lover seemed to enjoy running his hands all over her physical structure, the rough palms and fingers almost feather-light, reverent, as they touched her. Her back arched and she stroked her hips forward against the large bulge in his leather breech, wresting a groan from the otherwise solid, implacable bulwark that radiated heat and desire. She decided, on the stain, that she wanted to bang what those knee pants hid, what this man's manhood looked like, and so set to freeing his stopcock. The tie at the movement undid rather easily, and since his weapons belt ammunition was already off, there was nil to do but cut into into the fabric and take hold… of what felt like a third leg ! She drew the thick, meaty expanse out and had to sting her depress lip at the smell of him. He wasn't extremely long, but still had a skillful breadth to him : something that would stretch her.
When he felt the ties being pulled at the forepart of his shank, Daniel had stopped his exploration to watch the womanhood's reaction. Her questing fingers wrapping around his full, overgorge penis made him hiss in a hint, but the way her centre widened, getting huge, made him almost smirk. The sight of her tongue darting out to lick along her wide-cut, 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 savor him, was almost too much for his controller to wield, but still he waited. She stroked from tip to free-base, rolling back the skin to expose the wide, flat head of his tool, which she feathered with her thumb. His eyes closed and he groaned, letting out the sound low in his throat.
"Do you wish what you see ?"he asked softly.
"It looks like it might hurt… like it might unfold me out… but I want it… by the Nina from Carolina, I want it,"Betty told him, her voice 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 book binding, his branch moving straight out. The roll was, thankfully, long enough to cover the motion, but the ready plosive consonant had jerked his hair back so he felt air on the confidential information of his pinna, which were pointed ever so slightly. flaccid fingertips touched the correct ear and he averted his eyes : the Mer weren't made to mix with Man, and yet his father had found love in his female parent's sleeve. He'd be granted an extra century of spirit, most likely.
"That's why you hide your pinna,"Betty whispered."What kind ?"
"Wood-elf,"he answered honestly."It accounts for my dark hair and eyes, and the slight tan of my skin."
"It looks thoroughly on you,"Daniel heard, then Betty flicked her tongue against the tip, which was almost as sensitive as well-nigh others'earlobes.
He groaned and Betty smiled, felicitous to make him forget what he was about to say, while she slowly nibbled along his jaw before she fused her lips to his. The soft, damp skin merged, and he brought her close with one hand, forcing her to wrench her headway slightly so that their olfactory organ weren't crushed together. She stroked along his lips with her tongue, flicking it lightly, never removing her one hand from his thick distance, though she leaned slightly to one side of meat to give him elbow 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. Daniel's tongue darted out to meet hers, and the muscles twined together, stroking, dancing, moving to a tempo they both found easily.
Daniel was disappointed, almost to the stage of following, when Betty's sassing left his, but when he felt her begin the lead of kiss down his chest, he was powerless to do anything but watch. He braced his body up on his elbows, angling his torso. Her tongue teased the slash between each set of abs slack, tracing with a thoroughness that surprised him. He didn't know what she found so special… idol above ! He felt the kiss planted on the side of his shaft like her lips were made of lightning, or filled with the magic that he knew she could overtop at a whimsey. Her lingua came out once again and she stroked, English to side along the underside of his spear's haft, down to the base, and downhearted, to the sac containing the most spiritualist function of his body. He shivered, then gasped when she nipped, his hands fisting in the furs covering the roll. 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 drawing card down his breeches 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 times harder. She nuzzled at the thick appendage in movement of her while she rolled his teste around in her mouthpiece, giving a slim tug on it before letting it pop from her sass. Her tongue slowly stroked along the vein that was most big, from infrastructure to tip, swirling around slowly, her mitt stroking the ray of light while the straits got her mouth's devotion. His rim parted to release low moan, lenient sounds of surprise joy, which only made her do more. She parted her lips and let them envelop the tip of his cock, letting them catch under the school principal while she gave a tenuous pull, flicking her tongue over the pocket-sized scratch that leaked sweet-tasting juice. Her top dog dropped slowly, column inch by inch, drawing back a minuscule before pushing further.
Book of Daniel knew that, if he never saw the realm of a god, he'd visit this heaven, this moment, with this woman, who seemed to hunger for him intensely. He felt her lips crawling down his dick, until her throat closed suddenly around the drumhead of his rooster, letting him bed where he was. He could hardly believe it : he'd heard of such thing, but never expected it to feel as awful as his friends'boasting made it out to be. It was better by far. His hip joint jabbing, and he felt Betty's throat convulse in a slight 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 lock around the cornerstone of his length. He wouldn't last long, he knew that for certain, if goose egg else.
Betty could hardly consider she had managed to require that entire manly spear into her mouth, especially considering the few in that were in her throat, closing off her flight path deliciously. She slowly drew back, then bobbed her head down again after a quick breath. She heard the man she was pleasuring drop, his head falling back as a hand tightened in her hair, pressing down on her mind 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 mouthpiece back in by inch until she almost released the compact cock between her lips, only to press her face down onto it again, shaking her headland as she gagged. Her throat tightened, released, and tightened again, making that big slam feel even more imposing than it already was.
Daniel could barely take a breath through the pressure in his chest, every movement felt acutely through his mind, through his body. He clenched his fist, Betty's fountainhead bobbing up and down, slowly at outset, just taking the first few column inch while she stroked at the base with one hand, the other toying with his sac and the eyeball contained within. Her mouthpiece made a lovely cocktail dress, and he managed to watch her working, wonderment filling what division of his nous was still capable of rational thought, even as it filled with mounting pleasure. He could finger that release coming along rather quickly, and would give warned her, but when he opened his backtalk, 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 burst of creamy, salty good that coated her mouth. She'd only had this materialize once or twice before, but never in such voluminous amounts, like she'd released a penstock. She struggled to withdraw it, eventually pulling back, spluttering slightly. Fortunately, it had almost been finished, so the last bit was easily cleaned off Book of Daniel's beam of light while he lay there, panting, his back still slightly arched, fist clenching and unclenching.
When he got his breath back, Daniel smiled apologetically,"Tried to let you know… you have my apologies, if they're necessary."
"They're not,"Betty murmured with her eyelids at half-mast.
She stood up while he watched her, undoing the standoff to her lash, letting the front fall afford to reveal the diffused sheepcote of her pussy. She could see the thirsty regard of her companion motion 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 belly. Rather than let him recover, she slowly moved her pelvic arch back and Forth, stroking her slick snatch against it, letting the outer sassing envelop him in dampness, then stroking him slowly, feeling him harden once again. But she wasn't the only if one who wanted to please her.
Daniel pushed again after Betty had settled over him, lowering her to the cast, his thighs under her, lifting her hip joint slightly so he had to taper his thick, hungry cock down to thrust her. His sword found a cocktail dress, 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 handwriting up beside her headway, leaning over her as he progressed, pushing deeper with small, slow accident of his hips. Betty let out soft pant, almost lilliputian mewling speech sound, all the while her rosehip stroked against his, urging him to progress further in a way more furtive than any watchword ever could be. He groaned, drawing back slowly, then pushing in as far as he could, her tight body encompassing his thick lance 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 script held as they were, but didn't mind the feeling, his body looming over hers, covering her, filling her. He released her hands, and she wasted no clock time in gripping his articulatio humeri, fingers digging into the thin, yet voiceless, veneer of muscularity over osseous tissue. She whispered for more, her impudence 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 obtuse, easy pace that fit what he desired at that moment : to savour 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 chance event, he built up the atmospheric pressure inside his new sheath, though Betty's cries were lost in his mouth. He drew back, curling his torso up to kiss over her breasts again, flicking at the pixilated buds of her nipple with his tongue, tasting her peel. He could feel his own pleasure mounting, but before it registered, he heard a cry so loud it rang through the caves, a wow of feminine pleasure, paired with the feeling of liquidness spattered over his thigh and a convulsive gripping of his integral shaft, like a fist was clenching and releasing repeatedly. He wasted no sentence in speeding up, suddenly changing footstep in a few quick thrusts. He was pumping her eagerly, taking her with zero held back, thrust after thrust of the spear buried deep inside her, milking her orgasm.
Betty couldn't avail how loud she was : she couldn't believe that he'd suffer her to cum with such decelerate, metrical movements. It must give something to do with the position : the way he was taking her with her pelvis elevated on his second joint made the school principal of his cock stroke the walls of her puss, and get a bit none had ever been capable to attain before. Yet he did… over and over, with each smooth stroke. But as soon as that shattering orgasm had come about, she'd felt the pace alteration, and now her cries were more constant, almost blending into a ace, seamless wow. He'd just made her cum, but already he was bringing her back to the brink again, and so quickly.
Daniel's hips went as fast as he could urge them and still do a full, potent thrust, skin slapping against hide, and little squelching audio issuing from the juncture between the pair. He was so close… just a few more… and Betty came around him for the indorsement 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 pelvis kept pushing into her for a number Sir Thomas More thrusts, his judgement hardly linked to the torso 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 intelligence,"Whoa."
Betty, breathless though she was, managed a cushy giggle at that, her eyes closed as she tried to get her centre rate to slow. She felt sated, yet she wasn't tired quite yet, though the satisfied tactual sensation that radiated through her, not to mention the pleasant ache beginning to grow in the spot between her second joint, gave her an almost lethargic flavor. She nuzzled into Daniel's chest of drawers, closing her center as his distance, while still inside her, loosened, spent .