A word : This is a fan-fiction of The Elder ringlet V : Skyrim. The warriors within have just finished clearing out Embershard Mine, not far from Riverwood, and are experiencing their desires for each early. Edward Young Betty Sidney James Webb is a magus of Bruma, while Book of the Prophet Daniel is a indigen of Skyrim and one of the comrade. The part you are about to record is a portion of a much with child fan-fiction which is currently in the making. As a disclaimer, I own none of the references, and anything representing people in the real world is entirely coincidental. I thank you for reading and go for you enjoy.


Using a save shirt wrapped around his hand, he grabbed the large cauldron of swither off the ardor, setting it down nearby and sprinkling in some salt from a spice pot above the flame. He stirred it in with some herb Betty had found then dished it all out. Some Fly Amanita grew nearby, and he picked off several stalks after examining the crop. The wild one were rarely good, but they'd gotten lucky with these finical few. He dunked them into the stew, using them as bitable spoons, the gills holding broth that spilled over across the tongue. He groaned at the taste, and Betty smiled, taking a large helping. She also grabbed some of the ale that they'd found, several bottles, in fact, passing two to Daniel, but keeping the rest for herself.
She ate and drank quite a bit, enough that Daniel believed she was drunk. He removed his metal glove and boots not long after, setting them in the pile with his armour. The roll provided some padding between his ass and the rock 'n' roll, but not enough for it to be considered truly comfortable. He polished off the terminal of the cook swither and the mushroom cloud they'd found, then lay back with his eyes closed, staring at the tilt above them.
"So, Betty : were you with the imperial mages back in Cyrodil ?"he asked.
"well, yeah,"she said with her rima oris half-full."I had to learn somehow. I pretended to jibe with their philosophical system, 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 true affinities. 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 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 legend, considering no one has been able to get past the Falmer to search the depths. And it appears to ask some sort of orbit that's to be attuned to their particular harmonic resonations, sending out a signaling to run something. I've never heard of anyone capable to create a sphere with the proper attunement, but perhaps your friend found one : likely some crazed mage searching for block knowledge."
Betty was speechless for a moment before she frowned,"How did you manage to Holy Writ that ? I thought you were supposed to be some sort of dumb warrior-brute."
"My mother was occupy in charming belongings, and figured that, even though I showed no aptitude for it, I should know something of it to facilitate protect myself,"he shrugged,"that, and I'm particularly fascinated with the Dwarves. Their armament was sturdier than anything I've ever seen. I believe the metal is a combination of good old-fashioned blade, corundum and gold. The problem is, no one can ascertain the right proportioning to re-create this metallic element. I'm close to unlocking the confidential : I can feel it in my bones."
"How did you make that shield ?"Betty asked."Not to refer your blade."
"fountainhead, some explorer found dwemer swagger and a few self-coloured metal blockage, and gave them to Calcelmo, who heard I was looking for items to take in dwarven armor, and offered them to me in exchange for a serve,"he shrugged."I heard that the items were of optimal strength when combined with both branding iron and steel, and used that. It turns out that just one of the early ingot each combined with two or three dwarven-metal metal bar makes items of astounding long suit. You just have to smelt it all together, then shape it, carve it, temper it."
"You really are a good blacksmith, aren't you, Dan ?"
"wellspring, I'm not a master, but I am full enough to make ebony tree, if that counts as sound,"he shrugged."I also have experience qualification and tempering Elven and that green Glass stuff."
"So you don't just do heavy armament ?"she asked skeptically.
"Eorlund has been helping me,"Book of Daniel admitted."Vilkas and Skjor were the ace to help me learn my battle royal combat attainment, Aela taught me how to use a bow, and now Eorlund is teaching me how to make and maintain these things for myself. For instance, to repair a jaggy weapon system, you heat up a small piece of metallic element and insert it into the notch, heat the integral blade, then hammer all the metal hard, to make it hold tightly. The patch melds almost seamlessly with the archetype, and you have a continuous, shrewd edge."
"Well, I guess you really do know what you're doing, don't you ?"Betty laughed."I've never heard anyone explain it so thoroughly."
"I don't think there's any other way to do things but thoroughly,"Book of Daniel shrugged."And, well, Eorlund is, arguably, the intimately smith in Skyrim. I say arguably because Skyrim is home to many good, firm Nord blacksmiths, each saying they're as good or better, and that the fellow traveller'Captain John Smith is only the best due to his serious fortune. The Skyforge behind the place is, in all silver dollar, the sure-enough thing in Skyrim : its discovery led to the mead-hall Jorrvaskr and the fellow'root of command itself. Not to mention their weaponry."
"So every companion uses a weapon made from the Skyforge ?"Betty asked.
"Well, not necessarily uses, but for every meeting with a node, we wear our Skyforge Steel weaponry,"he admitted."The magical properties of the forge seem to knead only on steel weapons and armors, holding the metal's composition crocked than with a normal forge. However, it does mold on other metals : my shield, brand and mace were made in the Skyforge's flaming. They've never required maintenance."
"That's astounding,"Betty said softly."Do I get a weapon… ?"
"Well, you have to go on your run, first,"Book of Daniel shrugged."Afterwards, Kodlak will order to Eorlund that he will make you a weapon system of your choosing. So long as it has a vane, 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 Ebony, or even the Dwarven stuff : doesn't hurt that they're gracious to look at, either."
"That is reliable,"Betty agreed."But why doesn't the Skyforge move blunt physical object, like maces and warhammers ?"
Book of the Prophet Daniel sat up to meet the woman's eyes as he explained,"wellspring, my possibility is that few warriors liked the mace when the forge was created : it's deadening, off-balance, and fleshy, same goes for the larger 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 heavily arming. Some would slip them for their foundation, the zombie. In any upshot, since armor wasn't so covering, there were numerous weak stage, some thin, some thick, that would be best exploited by a well-aimed slice from a blade or axe, rather than bashed in with a thudding flange, or heavy head.
"Now, however, armor can extend virtually the entirety of one's eubstance, with the exclusion of articulatio, though those can be covered with chain, as I've done with my own arming. A strong head can effectively sprain a man's protective cover into his enemy. Cave in the chest-plate enough, an foe can't get the breathing space he needs. Smash a shield with the head of a warhammer, you have the ability to dent it, or even shatter it, rendering it entirely useless. Blunt arm have the potential difference to turn an foe's greatest asset, such as their laborious, thick armor plating, into their weakest point. You merely have to expect for an opening… or make one with a apropos bash."
"Your logical thinking is sound,"the red head nodded."But what about when a lightly-armored bandit comes at you ? You are at a disadvantage then, lugging around the heavy equipment you seem to prefer, Dan."
"fountainhead, yes, I suppose that would seem to be the fount. But, with that added exercising weight, as long as my shell is in the right post, I can block anything and barely be moved. I let the lightly-armored man or cleaning woman do their dance, slashing and bashing against my boilers suit Mass and, when they lose their energy, I deliver a bang during an blast, knocking them off balance. This can be followed up with an smash crash, or a crescent strike, or even a horizontal slash. With their special protection, even in that Glass clobber that lightly armored mass tend to aspire to get, I can die them in a matter of a few hits. I will admit that, if someone gets in my screen spots, I'll have an take turning to meet the strike, but my gear wheel has taken smasher before, and come through pretty well intact. Might get staggered or have a chip to forge out, but I won't feel much more than than a bruise."
"And what if a mage like myself attacks ?"Betty asked, leaning back.
"Well,"Daniel had to think for a few moments,"with the right trance, I can neutralise your nauseous trick. I have been working on doing something to that effect. The companion keep back getting a lot of complaints about varlet mages and atronachs, but when we try to take them down it's risky, seeing as few of our number employ justificatory magic. I'm one of the few who sees conjuration's potential drop to fix warriors unattackable than ever. Even the study of the magic of industrial plant life, alchemy, can increase a soul's resilience, strength, stamina, and even enhance their knowledge for a short time. Though, if I voiced my opinion, I might be cast from their number."
"Why would they mold you out for saying what you believe ?"the mage asked."Surely people are allowed to give voice to their beliefs here ?"
"For the most part, yes,"the warrior nodded slowly,"but the Companions will not embrace magic into their lives… something about the purity and strength of fight, or some such nonsense. Magic has been around long before Man or Mer were even an theme, let alone a culture. The time of legend, where our honest-to-god tale come from, was riddled with legerdemain more herculean than that commanded by all the men and mer since combined into a whole. And let us not forget of the first track record of chronicle, in the prison term of Almalexia, or even further back, when Talos and Ysgramor set out from Atmora to claim new lands."
"You are not a mere animal, it would seem. You have some illusion of intellect hidden away behind those lovely heart of yours."
"fountainhead, I am certain it is nothing in equivalence to your own word. After all, there is only so lots a man can have it off when he is a dedicated warrior, travelling from one end of the responsibility to the other time after time."
"Aye, but staying in one place does not put up a person with the real-world experience needed to subsist in such harsh terrain."
The conversation broke off as Book of Daniel took the time to finish off his meal while it still had some heat to it. A few minutes later, he set the arena down and lay on the coil, staring up at the ceiling in a brooding muteness. Betty took the fourth dimension to drink more, stopping not long after, as she felt about to burst. She'd been beginning to slur her row closer to the end of their conversation, swaying slightly, as if her center of balance was constantly in apparent motion. She moved over, closer to her comrade, so that he could see her.
"So, tell me, great comrade, do you suffer a adult female you fancy ?"she was teasing while lightly circling a finger around the middle of his chest, stroking the leather.
"A charwoman I fancy ?"the Male questioned with a raised supercilium."One might say that, aye. One might also note that I am… uncommitted, or, as I hear it is said, relieve to love and lust after whomever I see fit."
"And who is this woman that has struck your fancy, hmm ?"
"wellspring, she's not from here,"he admitted."She comes from the Confederate States, beyond the Jerrall Mountains. She's a moderately thing, little shorter than myself, hair red like a fire's flame and eyes like the jade used in Akaviri sculpture. Quite a endearing combination, I must hold. However, it would not be appropriate for me to tell her openly, as we've only met recently."
"She sounds like a truly… do-able charwoman,"Betty said softly.
"Aye,"he nodded, a smile formed on his sassing before he turned to see at his fellow traveller."What of yourself ? A good-looking woman like you should have no trouble finding suitors."
"In all honesty, I do not much like the company of men, though I do apprise the… form they were given,"Betty told him."There is this one… by the octonary ; he's built like a bulwark ! square muscle from top to bottom, with a jaw like an anvil, and his eyes are quite gracious to look at, a mixture of brown, with bright blue sky and pine-green run. But he's not a pretty-boy : ruggedly handsome would be the best description, dark-haired in this land of light-haired, pale men and women. I just don't know if he is interested, and I do not enjoy making a fool of myself."
"Well, I can not speak for this man, but I know that I am interested,"Book of the Prophet Daniel whispered, turning to lay on his side of meat, cubital joint propped against the bedroll's slightly compact end, shaped for a head, while he took her hand and brought it to his sass, flicking his tongue against her palm.
"You are that man,"Betty said, her voice just as tranquilize, husky."And, while I can not mouth for the woman you are interested in, I know that I am."
"You are the woman I wish,"he told her quietly.
"Good,"Betty's lips curled into a smile, and she moved closer. Her bridge player, the one at Daniel's lips, crept low-down, grazing against his chest, down the solid wall of his abdomen, to cup his crotch.
The dandy warrior gasped in surprise, looking down before looking back up at Betty, his gaze a smoulder of desire. The adult female licked her lips at the fervour 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 tree against the arousal between her pardner's wooden leg, leaning forward at the same prison term as he did, his hand moving up along her arm so he could unhook her hood, removing it so her hairsbreadth spilled freely. His fingers coiled in the expanse of red tresses, to bring her mouth to his. At first the kiss was slow down, an exploration and a interrogation in one.
The cleaning woman answered with the Sami heat and hunger that could be seen in Daniel's eyes. He drew her closer, bringing their physical structure together slowly. He rolled onto his back, dragging her atop him. Betty's thigh parted, and she lay with one leg on the outside of his dead body, the early between his muscular second joint, leaving her center above the muscular limb. He lifted his leg to grate 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 bodies parted for long, separated though they were by the few layer of leather.
He began pulling at the draw up the position of the leather chestpiece, releasing shoulder strap to draw off the spaulders and unbuckling the weapons belt that held up her arming skirt. Betty moved to make this sluttish, revealing the fur G-string that kept the heart of slipperiness warmth awaiting him from being out in the undefended. Daniel's handwriting stroked over her thigh slowly, thumbs caressing the bunching muscles, admiring the smooth, easy skin. His own mitt were rough, the grueling callouses on them a staring contrast.
"By Talos,"he whispered,"are you this easygoing everywhere ?"
"Why don't you find out ?"she asked breathlessly. Already his skin senses, just the gentle way he brushed fingers over her skin, was setting the rest of her ablaze, gooseflesh rising as practically from the cool air as the anticipation.
"I plan to,"he said in a confident tone.
He found the parting of her armor and slid it over her head, 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 globes of flesh hidden behind circles of leather held up with strap, a intention he found foreign, yet practical. He leaned forward and kissed the top of each knocker, making a circuit with his tongue before kissing once more. He nibbled at the soft bod, his men stroking over her midway, around to her sides, then her back, lifting to find where the buckle was.
As the shoulder strap came loose, he expected her glorious breasts to droop a comely bit, but they didn't, to his surprise. Yes, they dropped a couple inches, but not as much as he expected, making him thrash his lips at how to the full and delectable they looked. The soft, pale pink of her teat was in stark compeer with the beautiful color of the rest of her pelt, picket and delightfully untouched-looking. His bridge player moved back down to her rosehip and he looked up into her center, though the angle wasn't much.
"Whose thought was that niggling thing ?"he asked curiously. As a David Roland Smith and full general maker of things, it piqued his curiosity.
"My female parent's,"Betty whispered."Hers were turgid at a Whitney Moore Young Jr. age, and corsets were uncomfortable, so she made it. I'll answer more later… just, please… tactile sensation me."
Daniel groaned,"Yes…"
His hands went back up again, and he cupped the magnanimous world in his hands, leaning forward and flicking his clapper at the hard point of one tit. It rewarded him by puckering, so he did it again and again, a combination of curious and excited. His touch was unpracticed, for the most part, but still she responded by moving her pelvic arch back and Forth River against his thigh. He turned his tending to the former tit, doing the Lapp, and then circling the tight bit of flesh with his glossa, as though he were licking honey off one of those odd serving utensils.
Betty's finger's breadth clenched in his hair, pulling him closer, practically shoving his face into her breasts as she sawed her hips, back and forth, against the corded heftiness of his leg. Everything he did to her, while seemingly unversed, a little clumsy, was done confidently, with the aim of pleasing her. Her back arched and her finger's breadth clawed at the broad expanse that was his articulatio humeri. She could hardly propel him, even if she wanted to, but she could get that damn under-armor off him. With nimble, sure movements, she undid the ties going down his back without his having to strike before she peeled the fur-lined leather off his body, and unfolded it from his back.
Daniel had to lean back in edict 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 ablaze inside, and knew that only the woman before him would be capable to quench the flame, slake his lustfulness, which felt like a throat, parched from a day's employment without swallow. He felt finger stroking along his skin, 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 sissiness of her peel against the gruelling, wind-roughened expanse of his body.
Betty was all but quivering : he looked positively appetizing with just his skin stretched over the breadth of his body. She would work all over it later, let her lips and tongue explore the arduous blank space and the dips, the edges and ravines that decorated every smooth cut between muscular tissue. His chest was decorated with pilus, which thinned into a trilateral, dipping below the waist of his leather knickerbockers, leaving her wondering what that trivial path might chair to… The last of those thought process were wiped out when he took her nipple between his lips and suckled softly.
Daniel knew what he wanted… knew where it was located, but didn't want to contain 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 entire body rested between the welcoming expanse of her thighs. He let one hired man run along her leg, the sonant skin seeming to be never-ending, a long expanse interrupted by only by the bump of her patella. Otherwise it was as politic as a baby's rear.
Betty loved how her fan seemed to enjoy running his helping hand all over her body, the uncut palms and fingers almost feather-light, reverent, as they touched her. Her back arched and she stroked her hips forward against the salient protuberance in his leather rear of barrel, wresting a groan from the otherwise solid, implacable wall that radiated heat and desire. She decided, on the maculation, that she wanted to bed what those breeches hid, what this man's manhood looked like, and so set to freeing his peter. The tie at the front undid rather easily, and since his weapon belt was already off, there was zippo to do but delve into the textile and take hold… of what felt like a third leg ! She drew the thick, meaty area out and had to seize with teeth her lower lip at the facial expression of him. He wasn't extremely long, but still had a goodness breadth to him : something that would adulterate her.
When he felt the standoff being pulled at the social movement of his waist, Daniel had stopped his exploration to find out the woman's reaction. Her questing finger's breadth wrapping around his to the full, engorged penis made him hiss in a breathing spell, but the way her center widened, getting Brobdingnagian, made him almost smirk. The sight of her tongue darting out to lick along her full, kissable lips 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 command to address, but still he waited. She stroked from tip to found, rolling back the skin to reveal the wide-cut, flat head of his putz, which she feathered with her thumb. His center 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 extend me out… but I want it… by the ennead, I want it,"Betty told him, her voice soft, almost like she was speaking to herself.
"It'll be yours soon…"Book of the Prophet Daniel started to say, only to be cut off when Betty pushed him back onto his back, his legs moving straight out. The roll was, thankfully, long enough to encompass the motion, but the quick stop had jerked his hair back so he felt air on the bakshis of his ears, which were pointed ever so slightly. Soft fingertips touched the right ear and he averted his optic : the Mer weren't made to mix with Man, and yet his Father had found love in his mother's weapon system. He'd be granted an duplicate century of life, virtually likely.
"That's why you hide your ears,"Betty whispered."What kind ?"
"Wood-elf,"he answered honestly."It accounts for my wickedness hair and eye, and the slight tan of my skin."
"It looks effective on you,"Daniel heard, then Betty flicked her lingua against the tip, which was almost as sensitive as to the highest degree others'earlobes.
He groaned and Betty smiled, happy 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 indulgent, weaken skin merged, and he brought her finis with one hand, forcing her to turn her oral sex slightly so that their nose weren't crushed together. She stroked along his lips with her tongue, flicking it lightly, never removing her one handwriting from his thick length, 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 friction match in any way. Daniel's tongue darted out to adjoin hers, and the muscles 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 set about the lead of kisses down his chest of drawers, he was powerless to do anything but watch. He braced his soundbox up on his cubitus, angling his torso. Her tongue teased the track between each set of abs behind, tracing with a thoroughness that surprised him. He didn't know what she found so special… immortal above ! He felt the kiss planted on the incline of his shaft like her backtalk were made of lightning, or filled with the magic that he knew she could require at a whim. Her natural language came out once again and she stroked, position to side along the underside of his fishgig's haft, down to the base, and low-pitched, to the sac containing the most sensitive part of his body. He shivered, then gasped when she nipped, his manus fisting in the furs covering the roll. His head fell back as he felt her suck one orb into her mouth, his coxa lifting when he felt the tug at his ankles, letting her draw down his breeches entirely, leaving him naked and all but panting on the roll.
Betty reveled in the way this man responded to her tinge, as if he felt every flimsy pressure as acutely as if it were ten times harder. She nuzzled at the thick member in front of her while she rolled his teste around in her mouth, giving a thin tug on it before letting it pop from her oral cavity. Her tongue slowly stroked along the mineral vein that was most salient, from pedestal to tip, swirling around slowly, her hand stroking the shaft while the head got her mouth's devotion. His back talk parted to secrete low groan, soft sounds of surprised pleasure, which only made her do more. She parted her lips and let them envelop the tip of his cock, letting them catch under the head while she gave a slight pull, flicking her spit over the pocket-size slit that leaked sweet-tasting juice. Her school principal dropped slowly, inch by inch, drawing back a lilliputian before pushing further.
Daniel knew that, if he never saw the realm of a god, he'd call up this heaven, this moment, with this woman, who seemed to famish for him intensely. He felt her lips crawling down his shaft, until her throat closed suddenly around the head of his prick, letting him have it away where he was. He could hardly consider it : he'd heard of such things, but never expected it to find as amazing as his acquaintance'boasting made it out to be. It was better by far. His hips thrust, and he felt Betty's throat convulse in a slight gag around the tip, clenching and releasing. She wasn't far from the alkali, and he hoped that she'd try to go all the way… which she did, suddenly, arching forward and pushing her nozzle into the Robert Floyd Curl Jr. around the base of his length. He wouldn't last long, he knew that for certain, if zippo else.
Betty could hardly believe she had managed to direct that entire manly spear into her oral fissure, especially considering the few inches that were in her throat, closing off her airway deliciously. She slowly drew back, then bobbed her head down again after a quick breath. She heard the man she was pleasuring drib, his straits falling back as a hand tightened in her haircloth, 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 inch until she almost released the blockheaded hammer between her back talk, only to press her face down onto it again, shaking her caput as she gagged. Her throat tightened, released, and tightened again, making that big shaft feel even more noble than it already was.
Daniel could barely take a breath through the pressure in his breast, every movement felt acutely through his mind, through his consistence. He clenched his fist, Betty's straits bobbing up and down, slowly at kickoff, just taking the 1st few inch while she stroked at the theme with one hand, the other toying with his sac and the ball contained within. Her oral fissure made a lovely sheath, and he managed to observe her working, admiration filling what office of his brain was still equal to of rational thought, even as it filled with climb pleasure. He could feel that outlet coming along rather quickly, and would suffer warned her, but when he opened his backtalk, he only got out her gens before he erupted, a cry issuing forth.
Betty had wondered what he was about to say for all of a one-half endorsement, then she felt it : an explosion of creamy, salty goodness that coated her sassing. She'd only had this happen once or twice before, but never in such plenteous amounts, like she'd released a floodgate. She struggled to swallow it, eventually pulling back, spluttering slightly. Fortunately, it had almost been finished, so the last bit was easily cleaned off Daniel's shaft while he lay there, panting, his spinal column still slightly arched, clenched fist clenching and unclenching.
When he got his breath back, Book of Daniel smiled apologetically,"Tried to let you know… you have my excuse, if they're necessary."
"They're not,"Betty murmured with her palpebra at half-staff.
She stood up while he watched her, undoing the standoff to her thong, letting the straw man fall surface to uncover the diffuse folds of her cunt. She could see the hungry gaze of her companion relocation over that scissure 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 sly cunt against it, letting the outer lips envelop him in damp, then stroking him slowly, feeling him temper once again. But she wasn't the only if one who wanted to please her.
Book of the Prophet Daniel pushed again after Betty had settled over him, lowering her to the scroll, his thighs under her, lifting her rose hip slightly so he had to point his midst, hungry cock down to pierce her. His blade found a sheath, warm and wet, slowly piercing it, while Betty gasped, her head falling back and her hands wrapping about his carpus. He threaded their fingers together, tying her hands up beside her promontory, leaning over her as he progressed, pushing deeper with pocket-sized, slow strokes of his hips. Betty let out soft pant, almost little wail auditory sensation, all the while her hips stroked against his, urging him to work 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 rooster that penetrated her, begging to be stretched, filling her up oh-so-nicely, completely. She felt slightly trapped, her bridge player held as they were, but didn't psyche the smell, his body looming over hers, covering her, filling her. He released her hands, and she wasted no time in gripping his shoulders, fingers digging into the thin, yet firmly, veneer of muscle over bone. She whispered for more, her boldness food coloring slightly, but he just bit his lip, leaning forward and kissing her hungrily.
Daniel knew what he wanted, what they both wanted, and so he slowly drew back, then pushed into Betty's body again, finding a slow, slow tempo that fit what he desired at that moment : to savor their contact. This wasn't satisfactory, though : he felt more than heard a wordless supplication, asking him to go for broke, but he wouldn't, not yet. With easy strokes, he built up the pressure inside his new sheath, though Betty's yell were lost in his mouth. He drew back, curling his consistence up to kiss over her boob again, flicking at the tight buds of her nipple with his tongue, tasting her skin. He could feel his own pleasure climbing, but before it registered, he heard a cry so forte it rang through the caves, a screeching of womanly pleasure, paired with the opinion of liquid spattered over his thighs and a spastic gripping of his entire rotating shaft, like a clenched fist was clenching and releasing repeatedly. He wasted no fourth dimension in speeding up, suddenly changing tread in a few quick thrusts. He was pumping her eagerly, taking her with zip held back, jabbing after thrust of the spear buried deep inside her, milking her orgasm.
Betty couldn't help how trashy she was : she couldn't believe that he'd find her to cum with such deadening, measured apparent motion. It must give something to do with the position : the way he was taking her with her hip joint elevated on his thighs made the chief of his cock stroke the walls of her snatch, and brace a point none had ever been able-bodied to get hold of 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 tempo change, and now her cries were more constant, almost blending into a unity, seamless scream. He'd just made her cum, but already he was bringing her back to the verge again, and so quickly.
Book of Daniel's hip went as fast as he could urge them and still seduce a full, sinewy stab, skin slapping against pelt, and short squelching sounds issuing from the articulation between the pair. 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 replication of hers, his length shuddering as he released squirt after spurt of his orgasmic fluid into her. His hips kept pushing into her for a number Sir Thomas More stab, his mind hardly linked to the organic structure it inhabited, its conscious thought lost among the hotshot. He slowly managed to move, rolling onto his back and drawing Betty with him.
It was he who got his breath back first, and only long enough to say one Holy Scripture,"Whoa."
Betty, breathless though she was, managed a soft giggle at that, her heart closed as she tried to get her spirit charge per unit to slow. She felt sated, yet she wasn't tired quite yet, though the gratify flavour that radiated through her, not to mention the pleasant ache beginning to originate in the spot between her second joint, gave her an almost lethargic feeling. She nuzzled into Daniel's breast, closing her eyes as his distance, while still inside her, loosened, spent .