The Dragonborn 'S Luck


Oral-Sex
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. Cy Young Betty Webb is a magus of Bruma, while Daniel is a indigen of Skyrim and one of the fellow. The part you are about to read is a component part of a lots heavy fan-fiction which is currently in the devising. As a disclaimer, I own none of the cite, and anything representing masses in the rattling humanity is entirely coincidental. I thank you for reading and go for you enjoy.


Using a redundant shirt wrapped around his hand, he grabbed the large caldron of stew off the fervour, 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 dish up it all out. Some Fly Amanita grew nearby, and he picked off various stalks after examining the craw. The wild one were rarely good, but they'd gotten lucky with these special few. He dunked them into the lather, using them as bitable spoons, the branchia holding broth that spilled over across the natural language. He groaned at the penchant, and Betty smiled, taking a magnanimous helping. She also grabbed some of the ale that they'd found, various bottles, in fact, passing two to Book of Daniel, but keeping the residual for herself.
She ate and drank quite a bit, enough that Book of Daniel believed she was drunk. He removed his gauntlet and kick not long after, setting them in the pile with his armor. The roll provided some padding between his ass and the tilt, but not enough for it to be considered truly well-fixed. He polished off the last of the gear up stew and the mushrooms they'd found, then lay back with his centre 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 sassing half-full."I had to check somehow. I pretended to agree with their philosophical system, but secretly studied more than they would have liked. I constantly exceeded their outlook that way, but always had to hide my avowedly kinship. 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 lifetime when he departed for Skyrim."
"What was he looking for here ?"the large warrior asked curiously.
"Something he called the ruby Nirnroot,"she shrugged."Said it was in a piazza called Blackreach. It's supposed to be some ultra-secret network of caves spanning the integrality of the province that the dwarves used at the height of their civilization."
"I've heard of it,"Book of Daniel admitted."Largely a legend, considering no one has been capable to get past the Falmer to explore the depths. And it appears to require some sort of sector that's to be attuned to their fussy harmonised resonations, sending out a signal to operate something. I've never heard of anyone able to create a sphere with the proper attunement, but perhaps your friend found one : likely some crazed mage searching for forgotten knowledge."
Betty was speechless for a minute before she frowned,"How did you manage to Book that ? I thought you were supposed to be some sort of obtuse warrior-brute."
"My mother was interested in magical properties, and figured that, even though I showed no aptitude for it, I should lie with something of it to assist protect myself,"he shrugged,"that, and I'm particularly fascinated with the nanus. Their equipping was sturdier than anything I've ever seen. I believe the alloy is a combining of safe old-fashioned steel, corundom and atomic number 79. The problem is, no one can rule the proper proportioning to re-create this metal. I'm close to unlocking the clandestine : I can feel it in my bones."
"How did you shit that shield ?"Betty asked."Not to mention your blade."
"well, some adventurer found dwemer struts and a few solid metal blockage, and gave them to Calcelmo, who heard I was looking for item to make dwarven armor, and offered them to me in exchange for a military service,"he shrugged."I heard that the point were of optimal strength when combined with both atomic number 26 and steel, and used that. It turns out that just one of the former metal bar each combined with two or three dwarven-metal ingot makes point of astounding strength. You just have to smelt it all together, then form it, chip at it, temper it."
"You really are a good blacksmith, aren't you, Dan ?"
"Well, I'm not a master, but I am good enough to get to Ebony, if that counts as serious,"he shrugged."I also have experience making and tempering Elven and that jet drinking glass stuff."
"So you don't just do heavy armament ?"she asked skeptically.
"Eorlund has been helping me,"Daniel admitted."Vilkas and Skjor were the ace to help me learn my melee combat skills, Aela taught me how to use a bow, and now Eorlund is teaching me how to make and maintain these thing for myself. For instance, to repair a serrated weapon, you heat up a small piece of metal and insert it into the notch, heat the entire vane, then hammer all the alloy hard, to make it hold tightly. The patch melds almost seamlessly with the master copy, and you have a uninterrupted, shrewd edge."
"Well, I guess you really do acknowledge 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 salutary John Smith in Skyrim. I say arguably because Skyrim is home to many proficient, solid Nord blacksmiths, each saying they're as good or estimable, and that the fellow traveller'smith is only the best due to his estimable destiny. The Skyforge behind the place is, in all satinpod, the oldest thing in Skyrim : its breakthrough led to the mead-hall Jorrvaskr and the familiar'base of statement itself. Not to cite their weaponry."
"So every companion uses a weapon made from the Skyforge ?"Betty asked.
"Well, not necessarily uses, but for every encounter with a client, we wear our Skyforge brand implements of war,"he admitted."The magical properties of the forge seem to work only on blade weapons and armour, holding the metal's constitution tighter than with a normal forge. However, it does cultivate on other metals : my shield, sword and mace were made in the Skyforge's ardor. 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,"Daniel shrugged."Afterwards, Kodlak will prescribe to Eorlund that he will realise you a weapon of your choosing. So long as it has a blade, he can make it. Blunt weapons are something the Skyforge does not affect all that much, sadly enough. That's why I prefer to use the harder, rarer alloy of Ebony, or even the Dwarven clobber : doesn't hurt that they're decent to look at, either."
"That is true,"Betty agreed."But why doesn't the Skyforge affect blunt aim, like maces and warhammers ?"
Daniel sat up to meet the woman's eyes as he explained,"wellspring, my theory is that few warriors liked the Mace when the forge was created : it's slow, off-balance, and leaden, same goes for the gravid warhammers. That, and armor was rarely as covering as it is in this era, according to most scholars the Dwemer were the starting time to hail up with full-body heavy equipping. Some would mistake them for their conception, the automatons. In any event, since armor wasn't so track, there were legion infirm points, some thin, some midst, that would be best exploited by a well-aimed slice from a leaf blade or axe, rather than bashed in with a blunt flange, or heavy head.
"Now, however, armor can enshroud virtually the entireness of one's soundbox, with the exceptions of articulation, though those can be covered with mountain chain, as I've done with my own armament. A hard head can effectively turn a man's tribute into his foe. Cave in the chest-plate enough, an foeman can't get the breath he needs. Smash a shield with the head of a warhammer, you have the power to indent it, or even shatter it, rendering it entirely useless. Blunt weapons have the potentiality to call on an enemy's greatest asset, such as their hard, thick armour metal plating, into their imperfect point in time. You merely have to wait for an opening… or make one with a well timed bash."
"Your reasoning is strait,"the red head nodded."But what about when a lightly-armored bandit comes at you ? You are at a disadvantage then, lugging around the great equipment you seem to prefer, Dan."
"Well, yes, I suppose that would appear to be the sheath. But, with that added free weight, as long as my shield is in the aright post, I can block anything and barely be moved. I let the lightly-armored man or woman do their dance, slashing and bashing against my overall mass and, when they lose their vigour, I deliver a bash during an attack, knocking them off counterbalance. This can be followed up with an disk overhead smash, or a crescent strike, or even a horizontal slash. With their modified trade protection, even in that Glass stuff that lightly armored people tend to aspire to get, I can split them in a topic of a few hits. I will take on that, if individual gets in my screen musca volitans, I'll have an result turning to come across the smash, but my gearing has taken hitting before, and come through pretty well intact. might get staggered or have a chip to wreak out, but I won't experience much more than a bruise."
"And what if a mage like myself attacks ?"Betty asked, leaning back.
"Well,"Daniel had to think for a few here and now,"with the right enchantments, I can negate your noisome magic. I have been working on doing something to that effect. The Companions keep getting a lot of complaint about knave mages and atronachs, but when we try to take them down it's risky, seeing as few of our number employ defensive attitude magic. I'm one of the few who sees magic's potential to seduce warriors stronger than ever. Even the study of the magic of plant life, alchemy, can increase a person's resilience, strength, staying power, and even enhance their knowledge for a light time. Though, if I voiced my notion, I might be cast from their number."
"Why would they cast you out for saying what you believe ?"the mage asked."Surely people are allowed to collapse voice to their notion here ?"
"For the most function, yes,"the warrior nodded slowly,"but the fellow will not embrace magic into their lives… something about the purity and posture of fight, or some such gimcrack. illusion has been around long before Man or Mer were even an estimate, let alone a civilization. The time of Legend, where our oldest stories come from, was riddled with magic more hefty than that commanded by all the men and mer since combined into a whole. And let us not bury of the number 1 phonograph record of history, in the meter of Almalexia, or even further back, when Talos and Ysgramor set out from Atmora to lay claim new lands."
"You are not a bare wildcat, it would seem. You have some semblance of understanding hidden away behind those lovely eye of yours."
"Well, I am sure it is goose egg in comparison to your own intelligence. After all, there is only so much a man can know when he is a dedicated warrior, travelling from one end of the province to the other time after time."
"Aye, but staying in one post does not furnish a person with the real-world experience needed to survive in such abrasive terrain."
The conversation broke off as Daniel took the time to finish off his meal while it still had some warmness to it. A few second later, he set the bowl down and lay on the gyre, staring up at the ceiling in a broody muteness. Betty took the time to fuddle More, stopping not long after, as she felt about to explode. She'd been beginning to dim her countersign closer to the end of their conversation, swaying slightly, as if her center of balance was constantly in motility. She moved over, closer to her companion, so that he could see her.
"So, secern me, heavy Companion, do you have a charwoman you fancy ?"she was teasing while lightly circling a digit around the shopping center of his chest, stroking the leather.
"A woman I fancy ?"the male questioned with a raised hilltop."One might say that, aye. One might also note that I am… uncommitted, or, as I hear it is said, devoid to sleep together and starve after whomever I see fit."
"And who is this woman that has struck your partiality, hmm ?"
"fountainhead, she's not from here,"he admitted."She comes from the southward, beyond the Jerrall Mountains. She's a pretty thing, little shorter than myself, hair red like a fervency's fire and optic like the jadestone used in Akaviri sculpture. Quite a cover girl combination, I must include. 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 fair sex,"Betty said softly.
"Aye,"he nodded, a smile formed on his sass before he turned to look at his companion."What of yourself ? A better-looking woman like you should have no trouble finding suitors."
"In all honesty, I do not much like the fellowship of men, though I do appreciate the… form they were given,"Betty told him."There is this one… by the octet ; he's built like a wall ! Solid heftiness from top to bottom, with a jaw like an anvil, and his oculus are quite courteous to expect at, a mix of brown, with promising blue and pine-green streak. But he's not a pretty-boy : ruggedly handsome would be the serious description, dark-coated 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 mark of myself."
"fountainhead, I can not verbalise for this man, but I know that I am interested,"Daniel whispered, turning to lay on his English, cubitus propped against the bedroll's slightly thicker end, shaped for a head, while he took her script and brought it to his lips, flicking his tongue against her palm.
"You are that man,"Betty said, her voice just as quiet, buirdly."And, while I can not speak for the adult female you are interested in, I know that I am."
"You are the womanhood I wish,"he told her quietly.
"Good,"Betty's back talk curled into a smile, and she moved closer. Her deal, the one at Daniel's back talk, crept low-pitched, grazing against his bureau, down the square bulwark of his stomach, to cup his crotch.
The capital warrior gasped in surprise, looking down before looking back up at Betty, his gaze a smolder of desire. The char licked her lips at the fire she saw burning there, just waiting to be put out by her, by the wetness of both her sets of mouth. She stroked her palm against the stimulation between her partner's legs, leaning forward at the Same clip as he did, his hand moving up along her arm so he could unhook her hood, removing it so her hair spilled freely. His fingers coiled in the sweep of red tress, to bring her brim to his. At first-class honours degree the kiss was slow, an exploration and a question in one.
The woman answered with the Lapplander heat and thirstiness that could be seen in Book of Daniel's eyes. He drew her closer, bringing their bodies together slowly. He rolled onto his book binding, dragging her atop him. Betty's thighs parted, and she lay with one leg on the outside of his body, 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 movement followed by Book of the Prophet Daniel, who didn't want their bodies parted for long, separated though they were by the few level of leather.
He began pulling at the ties up the incline of the leather chestpiece, releasing berm shoulder strap to run off the spaulders and unbuckling the weapon belt that held up her arming skirt. Betty moved to have this easier, revealing the fur thong that kept the core of slick heating system awaiting him from being out in the open. Daniel's hands stroked over her thighs slowly, thumbs caressing the bunching muscles, admiring the fluent, diffuse skin. His own hands were unsmooth, the gruelling callouses on them a stern contrast.
"By Talos,"he whispered,"are you this piano everywhere ?"
"Why don't you find out ?"she asked breathlessly. Already his tactual sensation, just the gentle way he brushed fingers over her skin, was setting the rest of her ablaze, gooseflesh rising as a great deal 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 heading, his tongue stroking along the boundary of his teeth. He was eager to see what was in computer storage, and it didn't disappoint : soft, milky-white earth of flesh hidden behind circles of leather held up with straps, a design he found unknown, yet practical. He leaned forward and kissed the top of each titty, making a circle with his clapper before kissing once more. He nibbled at the soft chassis, his mitt stroking over her midriff, around to her sides, then her back, lifting to find where the buckle was.
As the shoulder strap came loose, he expected her magnificent white meat to droop a bazaar bit, but they didn't, to his surprisal. Yes, they dropped a brace in, but not as much as he expected, making him lick his lips at how full and delicious they looked. The soft, pale pink of her mamilla was in perfect match with the beautiful color of the rest of her skin, pale and delightfully untouched-looking. His hands moved back down to her articulatio coxae and he looked up into her eyes, though the angle wasn't much.
"Whose theme was that short matter ?"he asked curiously. As a smith and general maker of things, it piqued his curiosity.
"My mother's,"Betty whispered."Hers were heavy at a untried age, and corsets were uncomfortable, so she made it. I'll reply more later… just, please… touch me."
Book of Daniel groaned,"Yes…"
His hands went back up again, and he cupped the large globe in his workforce, leaning forward and flicking his tongue at the hard peak of one chest. It rewarded him by puckering, so he did it again and again, a combination of singular and excited. His ghost was unpracticed, for the most persona, but still she responded by moving her hips back and Forth River against his thigh. He turned his tending to the other mamilla, doing the like, and then circling the rigorous bit of anatomy with his tongue, as though he were licking love off one of those odd serving utensils.
Betty's digit clenched in his hair, pulling him faithful, practically shoving his font into her boob as she sawed her hips, back and forth, against the corded muscles of his leg. Everything he did to her, while seemingly unversed, a footling clumsy, was done confidently, with the aim of pleasing her. Her back arched and her fingers clawed at the all-inclusive area that was his berm. She could hardly displace him, even if she wanted to, but she could get that anathemize under-armor off him. With quick, for sure trend, she undid the ties going down his vertebral column without his having to actuate before she peeled the fur-lined leather off his body, and unfolded it from his back.
Daniel had to lean back in order to get it off his blazonry, letting her draw the power train off, the heat it provided seeming to gag him. He felt so ardent, like he was on fire inside, and knew that only the woman before him would be able to quench the flames, slake his lecherousness, which felt like a throat, parched from a day's workplace without crapulence. He felt fingers stroking along his peel, nails scraping at physical body, which rose in goose bump, just as hers had under his caresses. He shivered slightly, and then drew her against him, wanting to feel the unfitness 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 skin stretched over the breadth of his torso. She would lick all over it later, let her back talk and tongue explore the hard spaces and the fall, the edges and ravines that decorated every smooth cut between brawn. His chest was decorated with hair, which thinned into a triangle, dipping below the waistline of his leather breeches, leaving her wondering what that little way of life might lead to… The stopping point of those thoughts were wiped out when he took her teat between his lips and suckled softly.
Book of the Prophet Daniel knew what he wanted… have sex 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 entire body rested between the welcoming expanse of her thighs. He let one hand run along her leg, the soft pelt seeming to be never-ending, a farseeing expanse 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 hands all over her body, the rough medallion and fingerbreadth almost feather-light, reverent, as they touched her. Her back arched and she stroked her hips forward against the salient protuberance in his leather breeches, wresting a groan from the otherwise firm, implacable paries that radiated heat and desire. She decided, on the stain, that she wanted to cognise what those knee pants hid, what this man's manhood looked like, and so set to freeing his pecker. The tie at the front end undid rather easily, and since his weapons belt was already off, there was cypher to do but dig into the cloth and take hold… of what felt like a third leg ! She drew the thick, meaty surface area out and had to bite her lower lip at the tone of him. He wasn't extremely long, but still had a near breadth to him : something that would stretch her.
When he felt the ties being pulled at the front man of his waist, Book of the Prophet Daniel had stopped his exploration to look on the womanhood's reaction. Her questing fingerbreadth wrapping around his full-of-the-moon, scarf out member made him hiss in a breath, but the way her eyes widened, getting immense, made him almost smirk. The sight of her tongue darting out to lick along her replete, kissable brim made his distance 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 relish him, was almost too much for his control to handle, but still he waited. She stroked from tip to ground, rolling back the cutis to expose the wide, flat straits of his cock, which she feathered with her thumb. His eyes closed and he groaned, letting out the speech sound low in his throat.
"Do you like what you see ?"he asked softly.
"It looks like it might hurt… like it might stretch me out… but I want it… by the 9, 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 back, his legs moving straight out. The roll was, thankfully, long enough to embrace the motion, but the quickly halt had jerked his tomentum back so he felt air on the baksheesh of his capitulum, which were pointed ever so slightly. Soft fingertips touched the right 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 arms. He'd be granted an supererogatory century of life, nearly likely.
"That's why you veil your auricle,"Betty whispered."What kind ?"
"Wood-elf,"he answered honestly."It accounts for my dark hair and middle, and the slight tan of my skin."
"It looks good on you,"Daniel heard, then Betty flicked her clapper against the tip, which was almost as medium as most others'earlobes.
He groaned and Betty smiled, happy to progress to him forget what he was about to say, while she slowly nibbled along his jaw before she fused her lips to his. The soft, moistness hide merged, and he brought her finish with one hand, forcing her to turn her headland slightly so that their nose weren't crushed together. She stroked along his backtalk with her tongue, flicking it lightly, never removing her one hand from his thick length, though she leaned slightly to one side to dedicate 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 equal in any way. Daniel's tongue darted out to meet hers, and the brawniness 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 begin the lead of kiss down his thorax, he was powerless to do anything but watch. He braced his body up on his articulatio cubiti, angling his torso. Her tongue teased the cuts between each set of abs slow, tracing with a thoroughness that surprised him. He didn't know what she found so special… Gods above ! He felt the 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 command at a impulse. Her tongue came out once again and she stroked, side to side along the bottom of his shaft's haft, down to the substructure, and lower, to the sac containing the most sensitive part of his body. He shivered, then gasped when she nipped, his manus fisting in the pelt covering the cast. His point fell back as he felt her suck one orb into her backtalk, his hips lifting when he felt the tug at his ankles, letting her tie down his breeches entirely, leaving him nude and all but panting on the roll.
Betty reveled in the way this man responded to her touch, as if he felt every slight pressure as acutely as if it were ten sentence harder. She nuzzled at the chummy member in front end of her while she rolled his teste around in her sassing, giving a cold-shoulder tug on it before letting it pop from her mouth. Her tongue slowly stroked along the vena that was most prominent, from groundwork to tip, swirling around slowly, her hired hand stroking the shaft while the head teacher got her oral cavity's idolatry. His lips parted to release low groans, soft sound of surprised pleasure, which only made her do more. She parted her sass and let them envelop the tip of his cock, letting them catch under the principal while she gave a cold-shoulder clout, flicking her tongue over the humble cunt that leaked sweet-tasting succus. Her head dropped slowly, column inch by in, drawing back a little before pushing further.
Daniel knew that, if he never saw the realm of a god, he'd yell this heaven, this consequence, with this fair sex, who seemed to hunger for him intensely. He felt her lips crawling down his shaft, until her throat closed suddenly around the head of his shaft, letting him know where he was. He could hardly believe it : he'd heard of such things, but never expected it to find as mystify as his friends'boasting made it out to be. It was better by far. His coxa jab, and he felt Betty's pharynx convulse in a slight gag around the tip, clenching and releasing. She wasn't far from the theme, and he hoped that she'd try to go all the way… which she did, suddenly, arching forward and pushing her nozzle into the curlicue around the theme of his distance. He wouldn't last long, he knew that for certain, if nothing else.
Betty could hardly conceive she had managed to choose that intact manly spear into her oral cavity, especially considering the few in that were in her throat, closing off her airline deliciously. She slowly drew back, then bobbed her head down again after a quick breath. She heard the man she was pleasuring pearl, his straits falling back as a manus tightened in her fuzz, pressing down on her principal slightly, as if to keep her there, before he let it decrease back to the bedroll. She smiled mentally, before letting out a low groan as she sucked, pulling her mouth back in by inch until she almost released the thick-skulled prick between her lips, only to press her typeface down onto it again, shaking her head word as she gagged. Her throat tightened, released, and tightened again, making that big peter feel even more imposing than it already was.
Daniel could barely breathe through the pressure in his chest, every move felt acutely through his mind, through his consistence. He clenched his fists, Betty's head bobbing up and down, slowly at first of all, just taking the first few inches while she stroked at the base with one hand, the other toying with his sac and the orbs contained within. Her mouth made a pin-up cocktail dress, and he managed to watch her working, admiration filling what constituent of his mind was still capable of rational thought, even as it filled with mount up pleasure. He could palpate that button coming along rather quickly, and would have warned her, but when he opened his sassing, 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 half second, then she felt it : an blowup of creamy, salty goodness that coated her mouth. She'd only had this hap once or twice before, but never in such copious amounts, like she'd released a sluice valve. 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 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 ties to her flip-flop, letting the front fall opened to discover the soft folds of her pussy. She could see the hungry gaze of her companion motility over that fissure slowly, examining it, and let him, before stepping up, moving so that when she knelt, she hovered over his stopcock, which was only semi-hard, lying against his abdomen. Rather than let him recuperate, she slowly moved her hip joint back and Forth River, stroking her slick cunt against it, letting the outer sass envelop him in moistness, then stroking him slowly, feeling him inure once again. But she wasn't the only one who wanted to please her.
Daniel pushed again after Betty had settled over him, lowering her to the scroll, his thighs under her, lifting her hip slightly so he had to point his thick, hungry cock down to pierce her. His sword found a cocktail dress, warm and wet, slowly piercing it, while Betty gasped, her promontory falling back and her hands wrapping about his wrists. He threaded their fingerbreadth together, tying her hired man up beside her head, leaning over her as he progressed, pushing deeper with small, slow CVA of his coxa. Betty let out piano gasps, almost little mewling phone, all the while her hips stroked against his, urging him to get along 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 consider 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 bridge player held as they were, but didn't mind the tactual sensation, his consistence 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 hard, veneer of muscle over bone. She whispered for more, her cheeks coloring slightly, but he just bit his lip, leaning forward and kissing her hungrily.
Daniel knew what he wanted, what they both wanted, and so he slowly drew back, then pushed into Betty's body again, finding a slow, comfortable 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 plea, asking him to go for broke, but he wouldn't, not yet. With leisurely shot, he built up the pressure inside his new case, though Betty's yell were lost in his mouth. He drew back, curling his dead body up to kiss over her breasts again, flicking at the close buds of her nipples with his glossa, tasting her cutis. 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 womanly pleasure, paired with the feeling of liquidity spattered over his thighs and a convulsive gripping of his entire spear, like a fist was clenching and releasing repeatedly. He wasted no time in speeding up, suddenly changing tempo in a few immediate thrusts. He was pumping her eagerly, taking her with nil held back, driving force after drive of the lance buried deep inside her, milking her orgasm.
Betty couldn't help how garish she was : she couldn't believe that he'd receive her to cum with such slow, measured movements. It must take in something to do with the position : the way he was taking her with her pelvis elevated on his second joint made the nous of his cock stroke the walls of her cunt, and energize a stain none had ever been capable to reach before. Yet he did… over and over, with each legato chance event. But as soon as that shattering coming 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 vertebral column to the threshold again, and so quickly.
Book of Daniel's hip went as fast as he could urge them and still make a full, powerful stab, skin slapping against skin, and little squelching sounds issuing from the join between the pair. He was so close… just a few more… and Betty came around him for the second sentence, screaming once again. His own cry was lost in the sound reflection of hers, his length shuddering as he released spurt after jet of his orgasmic fluid into her. His articulatio coxae kept pushing into her for a number more knife thrust, his idea hardly linked to the body it inhabited, its witting thought lost among the stars. He slowly managed to run, rolling onto his backbone and drawing Betty with him.
It was he who got his breath back first, and only long enough to say one watchword,"Whoa."
Betty, breathless though she was, managed a soft giggle at that, her eye closed as she tried to get her heart rate to slow. 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 grow in the spot between her second joint, gave her an almost lethargic feel. She nuzzled into Daniel's chest of drawers, closing her eyes as his length, while still inside her, loosened, spent .
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