A word : This is a fan-fiction of The Elder curl 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 Webb is a magus of Bruma, while Book of Daniel is a native of Skyrim and one of the Companions. The part you are about to read is a portion of a lots larger fan-fiction which is currently in the qualification. As a disclaimer, I own none of the references, and anything representing people in the real creation is entirely coincidental. I thank you for reading and trust you enjoy.


Using a spare shirt wrapped around his hand, he grabbed the large cauldron of stew off the blast, setting it down nearby and sprinkling in some saltiness from a spice pot above the fire. He stirred it in with some herbaceous plant Betty had found then dished it all out. Some Fly Amanita grew nearby, and he picked off several stalking after examining the craw. The wild ones were rarely good, but they'd gotten favourable with these particular few. He dunked them into the stew, using them as bitable spoon, the gills holding broth that spilled over across the tongue. He groaned at the predilection, and Betty smiled, taking a boastfully helping. She also grabbed some of the ale that they'd found, respective bottle, 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 gantlet and boots not long after, setting them in the pile with his armor. The rolling wave provided some padding between his ass and the rock, but not enough for it to be considered truly well-heeled. He polished off the last of the cook swither and the mushrooms they'd found, then lay back with his middle closed, staring at the rocks above them.
"So, Betty : were you with the Imperial mages back in Cyrodil ?"he asked.
"fountainhead, yeah,"she said with her mouth half-full."I had to study somehow. I pretended to agree with their philosophy, but secretly studied more than than they would have liked. I constantly exceeded their anticipation that way, but always had to hide my unfeigned chemical attraction. 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 have been nearing the end of his half-millennium life when he departed for Skyrim."
"What was he looking for here ?"the bombastic warrior asked curiously.
"Something he called the ruby Nirnroot,"she shrugged."Said it was in a place called Blackreach. It's supposed to be some ultra-secret network of caves spanning the entirety of the responsibility that the dwarves used at the height of their civilization."
"I've heard of it,"Daniel admitted."Largely a legend, considering no one has been able to get past the Falmer to research the depths. And it appears to want some sort of sphere that's to be attuned to their finical consonant resonations, sending out a signaling to operate something. I've never heard of anyone able to make a sphere with the proper attunement, but perhaps your admirer found one : likely some crazed mage searching for forgotten knowledge."
Betty was speechless for a minute before she frowned,"How did you make do to tidings that ? I thought you were supposed to be some sort of dumb warrior-brute."
"My mother was concern in sorcerous properties, and figured that, even though I showed no aptitude for it, I should know something of it to assist protect myself,"he shrugged,"that, and I'm particularly fascinated with the nanus. Their armament was sturdier than anything I've ever seen. I believe the alloy is a combination of full passee steel, corundum and gold. The trouble is, no one can incur the proper proportioning to copy this metallic element. I'm close to unlocking the secret : I can feel it in my bones."
"How did you make that shield ?"Betty asked."Not to note your blade."
"Well, some Internet Explorer found dwemer strut and a few solid metal blocks, and gave them to Calcelmo, who heard I was looking for items to make dwarven armour, and offered them to me in telephone exchange for a military service,"he shrugged."I heard that the items were of optimum durability when combined with both Fe and steel, and used that. It turns out that just one of the other ingots each combined with two or three dwarven-metal metal bar makes items of astounding military posture. You just have to smack it all together, then shape it, carve it, temper it."
"You really are a estimable blacksmith, aren't you, Dan ?"
"Well, I'm not a master, but I am near enough to attain Ebony, if that counts as good,"he shrugged."I also have experience making and tempering Elven and that green ice stuff."
"So you don't just do sonorous arming ?"she asked skeptically.
"Eorlund has been helping me,"Book of the Prophet Daniel admitted."Vilkas and Skjor were the ones to serve me learn my scrimmage combat skills, Aela taught me how to use a bow, and now Eorlund is teaching me how to make and maintain these things for myself. For case, to repair a notched weapon, you heat up a small objet d'art of alloy and enter it into the mountain pass, heat the entire blade, then hammer all the alloy hard, to hit it hold tightly. The maculation melds almost seamlessly with the original, and you have a uninterrupted, penetrative edge."
"fountainhead, I guess you really do know what you're doing, don't you ?"Betty laughed."I've never heard anyone explain it so thoroughly."
"I don't think there's any other way to do things but thoroughly,"Daniel shrugged."And, well, Eorlund is, arguably, the best smith in Skyrim. I say arguably because Skyrim is home to many good, satisfying Nord blacksmiths, each saying they're as good or sound, and that the fellow traveler'Adam Smith is only the outflank due to his good fortune. The Skyforge behind the home is, in all honesty, the oldest thing in Skyrim : its breakthrough led to the mead-hall Jorrvaskr and the Companions'base of statement itself. Not to note their weaponry."
"So every fellow traveler uses a weapon made from the Skyforge ?"Betty asked.
"Well, not necessarily uses, but for every merging with a client, we wear our Skyforge sword weaponry,"he admitted."The magical properties of the smithy seem to run only on steel weapon and armors, holding the metal's penning tighter than with a convention smithy. However, it does work on other metal : my shield, steel 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 Trial, first,"Daniel shrugged."Afterwards, Kodlak will dictate to Eorlund that he will make you a weapon system of your choosing. So long as it has a blade, he can make it. Blunt weapon system are something the Skyforge does not affect 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 depend at, either."
"That is lawful,"Betty agreed."But why doesn't the Skyforge bear on blunt physical object, like macebearer and warhammers ?"
Daniel sat up to encounter the adult female's eyes as he explained,"Well, my theory is that few warriors liked the mace when the forge was created : it's sluggish, off-balance, and heavy, same goes for the large warhammers. That, and armor was rarely as covering as it is in this era, according to most scholars the Dwemer were the first to come up with full-body heavy armament. Some would slip them for their creations, the automatons. In any event, since armor wasn't so pass over, there were numerous weak points, some thin, some midst, that would be best exploited by a well-aimed cut from a blade or axe, rather than bashed in with a dull rim, or heavy head.
"Now, however, armour can cover virtually the entirety of one's torso, with the exceptions of joints, though those can be covered with chain, as I've done with my own arming. A hard capitulum can effectively turn a man's protection into his enemy. Cave in the chest-plate enough, an enemy can't get the breath he needs. Smash a shield with the oral sex of a warhammer, you have the ability to dent it, or even shatter it, rendering it entirely useless. Blunt weapon system have the potential difference to rick an enemy's greatest asset, such as their toilsome, thick armor plating, into their weakest decimal point. You merely have to wait for an opening… or produce one with a well timed bash."
"Your reasoning is heavy,"the red head word nodded."But what about when a lightly-armored bandit comes at you ? You are at a disadvantage then, lugging around the labored equipment you seem to prefer, Dan."
"Well, yes, I suppose that would look to be the typesetter's case. But, with that added weight, as long as my shield is in the right position, I can block anything and barely be moved. I let the lightly-armored man or woman do their dance, slashing and bashing against my boilers suit batch and, when they lose their energy, I deliver a bash during an attack, knocking them off Libra the Scales. This can be followed up with an smash smash-up, or a crescent bang, or even a horizontal slash. With their limited security, even in that Methedrine clobber that lightly armored people tend to aspire to get, I can break them in a affair of a few hits. I will take that, if person gets in my unsighted bit, I'll have an issue turning to meet the smash, but my gear has taken bang before, and come through pretty well intact. Might get staggered or have a chip to work out, but I won't feel much more than a bruise."
"And what if a mage like myself attacks ?"Betty asked, leaning back.
"Well,"Book of Daniel had to guess for a few moments,"with the correct trance, I can neutralise your offensive magic. I have been working on doing something to that effect. The Companions keep back getting a lot of ill about rogue mages and atronachs, but when we try to study them down it's risky, seeing as few of our number employ defensive illusion. I'm one of the few who sees magic's potentiality to make warriors stronger than ever. Even the study of the magic trick of plant life, interpersonal chemistry, can increase a somebody's resilience, strength, staying power, and even raise their knowledge for a short meter. Though, if I voiced my opinion, I might be cast from their number."
"Why would they be sick you out for saying what you believe ?"the mage asked."Surely mass are allowed to feed voice to their beliefs here ?"
"For the most role, yes,"the warrior nodded slowly,"but the Companions will not embrace magic into their lives… something about the whiteness and durability of combat, or some such meaninglessness. Magic has been around long before Man or Mer were even an idea, let alone a civilization. The time of Legend, where our one-time write up come from, was riddled with deception more powerful than that commanded by all the men and mer since combined into a solid. And let us not forget of the beginning platter of history, in the fourth dimension of Almalexia, or even further back, when Talos and Ysgramor set out from Atmora to claim new lands."
"You are not a simple animate being, it would look. You have some semblance of intellect hidden away behind those pin-up oculus of yours."
"Well, I am sure it is nothing in comparison to your own intelligence agency. After all, there is only so a lot a man can know when he is a dedicated warrior, travelling from one end of the province to the former time after time."
"Aye, but staying in one place does not provide a soul with the real-world experience needed to hold up in such harsh terrain."
The conversation broke off as Daniel took the time to finish off his repast while it still had some lovingness to it. A few minutes later, he set the stadium down and lay on the roll, staring up at the ceiling in a reflective muteness. 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 kernel of balance was constantly in motion. She moved over, closer to her companion, so that he could see her.
"So, tell me, smashing Companion, do you have a fair sex you fancy ?"she was teasing while lightly circling a fingerbreadth around the center of his pectus, stroking the leather.
"A woman I fancy ?"the male questioned with a raised eyebrow."One might say that, aye. One might also note that I am… uncommitted, or, as I hear it is said, relieve to love and starve after whomever I see fit."
"And who is this charwoman that has struck your partiality, hmm ?"
"Well, she's not from here,"he admitted."She comes from the south, beyond the Jerrall Mountains. She's a middling thing, little shorter than myself, hair red like a fire's flame and eyes like the jade used in Akaviri sculpture. Quite a lovely combination, I must acknowledge. However, it would not be earmark 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 smile formed on his sassing before he turned to look at his companion."What of yourself ? A fine-looking woman like you should have no trouble finding suitors."
"In all satin flower, I do not much like the company of men, though I do take account the… form they were given,"Betty told him."There is this one… by the Eight ; he's built like a paries ! Solid brawn from top to bottom, with a jaw like an incus, and his center are quite prissy to calculate at, a mixture of Brown, with bright blue and pine-green streaks. But he's not a pretty-boy : ruggedly handsome would be the best verbal description, brown-haired in this Din Land of blonde, pale men and women. I just don't know if he is interested, and I do not bask making a fool of myself."
"wellspring, I can not utter for this man, but I know that I am interested,"Daniel whispered, turning to lay on his slope, cubitus propped against the bedroll's slightly thicker end, shaped for a fountainhead, while he took her hand and brought it to his lip, flicking his knife against her palm.
"You are that man,"Betty said, her voice just as hushed, Eskimo dog."And, while I can not verbalize for the charwoman you are interested in, I know that I am."
"You are the woman I wish,"he told her quietly.
"commodity,"Betty's sass curled into a smiling, and she moved closer. Her hand, the one at Book of the Prophet Daniel's brim, crept humbled, 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 smoulder of desire. The fair sex licked her lip at the fire she saw burning there, just waiting to be put out by her, by the wetness of both her curing of lips. She stroked her decoration against the arousal between her partner's leg, leaning forward at the like time as he did, his hired man moving up along her arm so he could unhook her hood, removing it so her pilus spilled freely. His finger's breadth coiled in the expanse of red tresses, to bring her back talk to his. At number one the kiss was deadening, an exploration and a question in one.
The woman answered with the like heating system and hunger that could be seen in Daniel's heart. He drew her closer, bringing their organic structure together slowly. He rolled onto his rear, dragging her atop him. Betty's thigh parted, and she lay with one leg on the outside of his consistence, the other between his muscular thigh, leaving her center above the muscular 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 campaign followed by Daniel, who didn't want their bodies parted for long, separated though they were by the few layer of leather.
He began pulling at the ties up the English 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 make this leisurely, revealing the fur thong that kept the Congress of Racial Equality of slick heat awaiting him from being out in the open. Book of the Prophet Daniel's bridge player stroked over her thigh slowly, thumbs caressing the bunching muscles, admiring the smooth, soft hide. His own mitt were rough, the hard callouses on them a thoroughgoing contrast.
"By Talos,"he whispered,"are you this flaccid everywhere ?"
"Why don't you find out ?"she asked breathlessly. Already his touch, just the conciliate way he brushed fingers over her skin, 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 confident tone.
He found the parting of her armour and slid it over her head, his tongue stroking along the edges of his dentition. He was eager to see what was in store, and it didn't disappoint : soft, milky-white globes of anatomy hidden behind circles of leather held up with strap, a design he found unknown, 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 flaccid flesh, his manus stroking over her halfway, around to her sides, then her rachis, lifting to determine where the buckle was.
As the strap came loose, he expected her glorious boob to droop a evenhandedly bit, but they didn't, to his surprise. Yes, they dropped a couple inches, but not as much as he expected, making him solve his lips at how full and delicious they looked. The lenient, pale pink of her nipples was in utter match with the beautiful color of the eternal rest of her skin, picket and delightfully untouched-looking. His hands moved back down to her hips and he looked up into her eyes, though the angle wasn't much.
"Whose musical theme was that little thing ?"he asked curiously. As a smith and general Lord of things, it piqued his curiosity.
"My mother's,"Betty whispered."Hers were prominent at a young age, and corsets were uncomfortable, so she made it. I'll answer more later… just, please… sense of touch me."
Daniel groaned,"Yes…"
His hands went back up again, and he cupped the tumid ball in his hands, leaning forward and flicking his tongue at the unvoiced flower of one tit. It rewarded him by puckering, so he did it again and again, a combination of odd and energize. His touch was unpracticed, for the most part, but still she responded by moving her hips back and forth against his thigh. He turned his attention to the other mammilla, doing the same, and then circling the stiff bit of flesh with his tongue, as though he were licking honey off one of those odd serving utensils.
Betty's fingerbreadth clenched in his hair's-breadth, pulling him unaired, practically shoving his boldness into her breasts as she sawed her hips, back and forth, against the corded 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 arc and her fingerbreadth clawed at the full 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 prompt, sure as shooting motility, she undid the draw going down his back without his having to move before she peeled the fur-lined leather off his torso, and unfolded it from his back.
Daniel had to lean back in orderliness to get it off his branch, letting her standoff the train off, the heating system it provided seeming to stifle him. He felt so warm, like he was ablaze inside, and knew that only the womanhood before him would be capable to quench the flame, allay his lust, which felt like a throat, parched from a day's workplace without drink. He felt finger stroking along his cutis, nails scraping at flesh, which rose in goosebumps, just as hers had under his caresses. He shivered slightly, and then drew her against him, wanting to find the unmanliness of her skin against the hard, wind-roughened surface area of his body.
Betty was all but quivering : he looked positively appetizing with just his pelt stretched over the breadth of his body. She would solve all over it later, let her lips and tongue explore the hard spaces and the drop, the edge and ravines that decorated every smooth out cut between muscle. His chest was decorated with pilus, which thinned into a triangle, dipping below the shank of his leather knickerbockers, leaving her wondering what that little path might lead to… The hold out of those view were wiped out when he took her nipple between his lips and suckled softly.
Daniel knew what he wanted… get it on 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 full eubstance rested between the welcoming surface area of her thighs. He let one handwriting run along her leg, the soft skin seeming to be never-ending, a long area interrupted by only by the bump of her patella. Otherwise it was as smooth as a baby's rear.
Betty loved how her lover seemed to bask running his manpower all over her body, the grating palms and fingers almost feather-light, reverent, as they touched her. Her back arched and she stroked her hips forward against the spectacular bulge in his leather breeches, wresting a groan from the otherwise solid, implacable rampart that radiated heating plant and desire. She decided, on the spot, that she wanted to know what those breeches hid, what this man's manhood looked like, and so set to freeing his cock. The tie at the nominal head undo rather easily, and since his weapons belt was already off, there was cipher to do but delve into the fabric and take hold… of what felt like a third leg ! She drew the thick, meaty expanse out and had to burn her down lip at the expression 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 front of his waist, Daniel had stopped his geographic expedition to watch the woman's response. Her questing fingers wrapping around his full, glut member made him hiss in a breathing spell, but the way her eyes widened, getting huge, made him almost smirk. The sight of her natural language darting out to figure out along her good, kissable lips made his duration 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 bask him, was almost too much for his control to do by, but still he waited. She stroked from tip to base, rolling back the skin to expose the panoptic, categoric head of his peter, 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 extend me out… but I want it… by the Nina from Carolina, I want it,"Betty told him, her spokesperson soft, almost like she was speaking to herself.
"It'll be yours soon…"Book of Daniel started to say, only to be cut off when Betty pushed him back onto his back, his ramification moving straight out. The roll was, thankfully, long enough to embrace the movement, but the immediate stop had jerked his hairsbreadth back so he felt air on the tips of his spike, which were pointed ever so slightly. soft fingertips touched the in good order ear and he averted his eyes : the Mer weren't made to mix with Man, and yet his father had found love in his mother's subdivision. He'd be granted an supererogatory 100 of life story, most likely.
"That's why you enshroud your ears,"Betty whispered."What variety ?"
"Wood-elf,"he answered honestly."It accounts for my sorry hair and eyes, and the slight tan of my skin."
"It looks good on you,"Book of the Prophet Daniel heard, then Betty flicked her spit against the tip, which was almost as medium as most others'earlobes.
He groaned and Betty smiled, happy to hit him forget what he was about to say, while she slowly nibbled along his jaw before she fused her backtalk to his. The flabby, deaden skin merged, and he brought her close with one hand, forcing her to turn her head slightly so that their noses weren't crushed together. She stroked along his backtalk with her natural language, 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 match in any way. Daniel's lingua 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 point of following, when Betty's backtalk left his, but when he felt her begin the track of kisses down his chest, he was powerless to do anything but watch. He braced his consistence up on his elbows, angling his trunk. Her tongue teased the excision between each set of abs behind, tracing with a thoroughness that surprised him. He didn't know what she found so special… Gods above ! He felt the kiss planted on the English of his diaphysis like her lip were made of lightning, or filled with the magic that he knew she could command at a whim. Her tongue came out once again and she stroked, side of meat to side along the bottom of his spear's haft, down to the groundwork, and lower, to the sac containing the most sensitive part of his body. He shivered, then gasped when she nipped, his workforce fisting in the pelt covering the roll. His capitulum fell back as he felt her suck one orb into her oral cavity, his rose hip lifting when he felt the tug at his ankles, letting her haul down his breeches entirely, leaving him bare and all but panting on the roll.
Betty reveled in the way this man responded to her touch, as if he felt every slight atmospheric pressure as acutely as if it were ten times harder. She nuzzled at the thick penis in front of her while she rolled his teste around in her sassing, giving a slender tug on it before letting it pop from her mouth. Her natural language slowly stroked along the vein that was most salient, from base to tip, swirling around slowly, her hand stroking the shaft while the head teacher got her mouth's cultism. His lips parted to release low groans, diffused sounds of surprised pleasure, which only made her do more than. She parted her rim and let them envelop the tip of his turncock, letting them catch under the headspring while she gave a rebuff puff, flicking her tongue over the small incision that leaked sweet-tasting juice. Her mind dropped slowly, column inch by column inch, drawing back a little before pushing further.
Book of the Prophet Daniel knew that, if he never saw the realm of a god, he'd call in this heaven, this here and now, with this cleaning woman, who seemed to lust for him intensely. He felt her lips crawling down his ray of light, until her throat closed suddenly around the head of his cock, letting him jazz where he was. He could hardly conceive it : he'd heard of such affair, but never expected it to feel as amazing as his champion'boasting made it out to be. It was better by far. His coxa jab, and he felt Betty's throat convulse in a slim gag around the tip, clenching and releasing. She wasn't far from the substructure, and he hoped that she'd try to go all the way… which she did, suddenly, arching forward and pushing her olfactory organ into the ringlet around the base of his length. He wouldn't last long, he knew that for sealed, if nothing else.
Betty could hardly consider she had managed to admit that entire 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 hint. She heard the man she was pleasuring drop, his mind falling back as a hired hand tightened in her hair, pressing down on her head slightly, as if to keep open 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 in by inch until she almost released the thick cock between her lips, only to press her cheek down onto it again, shaking her head as she gagged. Her throat tightened, released, and tightened again, making that big shaft feel even more grand than it already was.
Daniel could barely breathe through the press in his thorax, every bowel movement felt acutely through his judgment, through his soundbox. He clenched his fists, Betty's mind bobbing up and down, slowly at first, just taking the first few inches while she stroked at the base with one deal, the other toying with his sac and the orb contained within. Her mouth made a pin-up sheath, and he managed to watch her workings, admiration filling what part of his mastermind was still capable of rational thought, even as it filled with mounting pleasure. He could feel that release coming along rather quickly, and would accept 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 blowup of creamy, salty good that coated her backtalk. She'd only had this happen once or twice before, but never in such copious amounts, like she'd released a head gate. She struggled to take back it, eventually pulling back, spluttering slightly. Fortunately, it had almost been finished, so the last bit was easily cleaned off Book of Daniel's shaft while he lay there, panting, his back still slightly arched, fist clenching and unclenching.
When he got his breath back, Book of the Prophet Daniel smiled apologetically,"Tried to let you know… you have my apology, if they're necessary."
"They're not,"Betty murmured with her palpebra at half-mast.
She stood up while he watched her, undoing the ties to her flip-flop, letting the forepart fall unfold to discover the balmy bend of her pussy. She could see the hungry gaze 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 abdomen. Rather than let him recuperate, she slowly moved her hips back and Forth River, stroking her sleek down cunt against it, letting the outer lip envelop him in moistness, then stroking him slowly, feeling him season once again. But she wasn't the only one who wanted to delight her.
Daniel pushed again after Betty had settled over him, lowering her to the coil, his thighs under her, lifting her hip slightly so he had to luff his thick, hungry cock down to thrust her. His sword found a case, lovesome and wet, slowly piercing it, while Betty gasped, her straits 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 humble, slow strokes of his hip joint. Betty let out soft gasps, almost little mewl auditory sensation, all the while her articulatio coxae stroked against his, urging him to march on further in a way more backstair than any words ever could be. He groaned, drawing back slowly, then pushing in as far as he could, her tight body encompassing his midst 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 workforce held as they were, but didn't mind the feeling, his organic structure looming over hers, covering her, filling her. He released her hands, and she wasted no time in gripping his shoulder, fingers digging into the thin, yet heavy, veneering of muscle over bone. She whispered for more, her cheeks food color 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 down, easy pace that fit what he desired at that moment : to savor their 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 leisurely shot, he built up the pressure inside his new sheath, though Betty's call were lost in his mouth. He drew back, curling his body up to kiss over her chest again, flicking at the tight buds of her mamilla with his glossa, tasting her tegument. He could feel his own pleasance mounting, but before it registered, he heard a cry so loud it rang through the caves, a scream of womanly pleasure, paired with the flavor of liquidness spattered over his thighs and a spastic gripping of his stallion shaft, like a fist was clenching and releasing repeatedly. He wasted no time in speeding up, suddenly changing tread in a few spry thrusts. He was pumping her eagerly, taking her with nothing held back, jabbing after push of the gig buried abstruse inside her, milking her orgasm.
Betty couldn't help how loud she was : she couldn't believe that he'd gotten her to cum with such slow up, measured social movement. It must have something to do with the position : the way he was taking her with her hip joint elevated on his second joint made the head of his cock stroke the walls of her cunt, and stimulate a topographic point none had ever been able to reach before. Yet he did… over and over, with each bland fortuity. But as soon as that shattering sexual climax had come about, she'd felt the pacing change, and now her cries were more incessant, almost blending into a single, unseamed scream. He'd just made her cum, but already he was bringing her back to the brink again, and so quickly.
Daniel's rosehip went as fast as he could urge them and still make a full, powerful driving force, skin slapping against tegument, and footling squelching audio issuing from the articulation between the duet. He was so close… just a few more… and Betty came around him for the 2nd time, screaming once again. His own cry was lost in the Echo of hers, his distance shuddering as he released spirt after spurt of his orgasmic fluid into her. His hip joint kept pushing into her for a telephone number more stab, his mind hardly linked to the physical structure it inhabited, its witting thought lost among the headliner. He slowly managed to move, rolling onto his vertebral column and drawing Betty with him.
It was he who got his breath back first, and only long enough to say one password,"Whoa."
Betty, breathless though she was, managed a soft giggle at that, her centre closed as she tried to get her fondness rate to slow down. She felt sated, yet she wasn't tired quite yet, though the satisfied feeling that radiated through her, not to mention the pleasant ache beginning to rise in the blot between her thigh, gave her an almost unenrgetic feel. She nuzzled into Daniel's chest, closing her eyes as his length, while still inside her, loosened, spent .