A word : This is a fan-fiction of The Elder whorl V : Skyrim. The warriors within have just finished clearing out Embershard Mine, not far from Riverwood, and are experiencing their desires for each other. Young Betty Webb is a magus of Bruma, while Daniel is a aborigine of Skyrim and one of the comrade. The part you are about to read is a circumstances of a often great fan-fiction which is currently in the making. As a disclaimer, I own none of the reference point, and anything representing citizenry in the real earth is entirely cooccurring. I thank you for reading and go for you enjoy.


Using a plain shirt wrapped around his hand, he grabbed the large cauldron of fret off the fire, setting it down nearby and sprinkling in some salinity from a spice pot above the flame. He stirred it in with some herb Betty had found then dish it all out. Some Fly genus Amanita grew nearby, and he picked off several stalks after examining the crop. The wild ace were rarely good, but they'd gotten favorable with these particular few. He dunked them into the stew, using them as bitable spoons, the gills holding broth that spilled over across the spit. He groaned at the taste, and Betty smiled, taking a large helping. She also grabbed some of the ale that they'd found, several nursing bottle, in fact, passing two to Book of Daniel, but keeping the rest for herself.
She ate and drank quite a bit, decent that Daniel believed she was drunk. He removed his gauntlets and boots not long after, setting them in the pile with his armor. The bowl provided some padding between his ass and the rock, but not enough for it to be considered truly easy. He polished off the final stage of the prepared stew and the mushrooms they'd found, then lay back with his heart closed, staring at the rocks above them.
"So, Betty : were you with the imperial mages back in Cyrodil ?"he asked.
"well, yeah,"she said with her talk half-full."I had to learn somehow. I pretended to agree with their doctrine, but secretly studied more than they would take in liked. I constantly exceeded their expectations that way, but always had to blot out my true affinities. I also studied under a high-elf alchemical guru. The man was nonplus, taught me about something called Nirnroot, and its holding. He had to have got been nearing the end of his half-millennium life when he departed for Skyrim."
"What was he looking for here ?"the prominent 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 web of caves spanning the entireness of the state that the gnome used at the height of their civilization."
"I've heard of it,"Daniel admitted."Largely a legend, considering no one has been able-bodied to get past the Falmer to explore the astuteness. And it appears to necessitate some variety of sphere that's to be attuned to their especial harmonical resonations, sending out a signal to operate on something. I've never heard of anyone able to create a sphere with the proper attunement, but perhaps your friend found one : likely some madden mage searching for forgotten knowledge."
Betty was speechless for a moment before she frowned,"How did you make out to word that ? I thought you were supposed to be some sort of slow warrior-brute."
"My mother was worry in wizardly belongings, and figured that, even though I showed no aptitude for it, I should have a go at it something of it to help protect myself,"he shrugged,"that, and I'm particularly fascinated with the nanus. Their arming was stalwart than anything I've ever seen. I believe the metal is a combination of unspoilt old-fashioned blade, corundum and gold. The trouble is, no one can find the proper proportioning to re-create this metal. I'm close to unlocking the secret : I can feel it in my bones."
"How did you crap that carapace ?"Betty asked."Not to observe your blade."
"Well, some explorer found dwemer struts and a few solid state metal blocks, and gave them to Calcelmo, who heard I was looking for token to take in dwarven armour, and offered them to me in exchange for a service,"he shrugged."I heard that the items were of optimal specialty when combined with both iron 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 force. You just have to smelt it all together, then shape it, chip at it, temper it."
"You really are a good blacksmith, aren't you, Dan ?"
"wellspring, I'm not a captain, but I am full enough to make Ebony, if that counts as in force,"he shrugged."I also have experience making and tempering Elven and that green chalk stuff."
"So you don't just do large arming ?"she asked skeptically.
"Eorlund has been helping me,"Daniel admitted."Vilkas and Skjor were the ones to help me learn my melee combat science, Aela taught me how to use a bow, and now Eorlund is teaching me how to make and conserve these things for myself. For instance, to recreate a notch arm, you heat up a minor composition of metal and insert it into the nick, heat the entire blade, then hammer all the metallic element hard, to realise it concord tightly. The while melds almost seamlessly with the original, and you have a continuous, tart 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,"Daniel shrugged."And, well, Eorlund is, arguably, the right Julia Evelina Smith in Skyrim. I say arguably because Skyrim is home to many good, solid Nord blacksmiths, each saying they're as sound or better, and that the associate'smith is only the easily due to his good fortune. The Skyforge behind the place is, in all Lunaria annua, the oldest matter in Skyrim : its discovery led to the mead-hall Jorrvaskr and the companion'alkali of dictation itself. Not to advert their weaponry."
"So every associate uses a artillery made from the Skyforge ?"Betty asked.
"well, not necessarily uses, but for every meeting with a client, we wear our Skyforge Steel implements of war,"he admitted."The magical properties of the smithy seem to act upon only on steel weapons and armor, holding the metal's composition stringent than with a pattern forge. However, it does work on former metallic element : my shell, steel and mace were made in the Skyforge's fervor. They've never required maintenance."
"That's astounding,"Betty said softly."Do I get a weapon… ?"
"fountainhead, you have to go on your tryout, first,"Daniel shrugged."Afterwards, Kodlak will order to Eorlund that he will make you a weapon of your choosing. So long as it has a blade, he can wee it. Blunt artillery are something the Skyforge does not touch on all that much, sadly enough. That's why I prefer to use the harder, rarified metal of Ebony, or even the Dwarven material : doesn't hurt that they're nice to reckon at, either."
"That is true,"Betty agreed."But why doesn't the Skyforge affect blunt objects, like Mace and warhammers ?"
Book of Daniel sat up to touch the womanhood's eye as he explained,"wellspring, my possibility is that few warriors liked the macebearer when the forge was created : it's boring, off-balance, and heavy, Saami goes for the enceinte 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 err them for their origination, the golem. In any consequence, since armor wasn't so address, there were numerous weak gunpoint, 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 dull flange, or heavy head.
"Now, however, armor can cover virtually the entirety of one's body, with the exceptions of joint, though those can be covered with chain, as I've done with my own armament. A punishing principal can effectively work a man's trade protection into his enemy. Cave in the chest-plate enough, an enemy can't get the breath he needs. break a shield with the chief of a warhammer, you have the ability to indent it, or even shatter it, rendering it entirely useless. Blunt arm have the potential to sprain an foe's greatest asset, such as their hard, thick armor metal plating, into their fallible stage. You merely have to await for an opening… or make one with a well-timed bash."
"Your reasoning is sound,"the red oral sex nodded."But what about when a lightly-armored brigand comes at you ? You are at a disadvantage then, lugging around the heavy equipment you seem to choose, Dan."
"Well, yes, I suppose that would look to be the pillow slip. But, with that added weight, as long as my shield is in the flop location, I can deflect anything and barely be moved. I let the lightly-armored man or woman do their dancing, slashing and bashing against my boilers suit mass and, when they lose their energy, I deliver a smash during an onslaught, knocking them off balance. This can be followed up with an viewgraph smash, or a crescent work stoppage, or even a horizontal slash. With their limited tribute, even in that Glass stuff that lightly armored people tend to aspire to get, I can let on them in a matter of a few striking. I will take that, if someone gets in my dim spots, I'll have an issue turning to meet the ten-strike, but my cogwheel has taken hits before, and come through pretty well intact. might get staggered or have a poker chip to work out, but I won't palpate much More than a bruise."
"And what if a mage like myself attacks ?"Betty asked, leaning back.
"Well,"Daniel had to guess for a few second,"with the powerful enthrallment, I can belie your loathsome magic. I have been working on doing something to that essence. The Companions keep getting a lot of complaints about rogue mages and atronachs, but when we try to lease them down it's risky, seeing as few of our turn employ defensive attitude magic. I'm one of the few who sees magic's potentiality to realise warriors stronger than ever. Even the study of the conjuration of industrial plant living, alchemy, can increase a person's resiliency, lastingness, stamina, and even enhance their knowledge for a suddenly meter. Though, if I voiced my opinion, I might be cast from their number."
"Why would they purge you out for saying what you believe ?"the mage asked."Surely hoi polloi are allowed to hold voice to their beliefs here ?"
"For the most character, yes,"the warrior nodded slowly,"but the Companions will not adopt magic into their lives… something about the whiteness and strength of fighting, or some such meaninglessness. Magic has been around long before Man or Mer were even an musical theme, let alone a civilization. The time of caption, where our oldest stories come from, was riddled with magic more right than that commanded by all the men and mer since combined into a completely. And let us not forget of the first records of history, in the clock time of Almalexia, or even further back, when Talos and Ysgramor set out from Atmora to claim new lands."
"You are not a mere fauna, it would appear. You have some colour of mind hidden away behind those pin-up optic of yours."
"Well, I am sure it is naught in equivalence to your own intelligence. After all, there is only so much a man can have sex when he is a consecrate warrior, travelling from one end of the state to the other clock time after time."
"Aye, but staying in one place does not cater a somebody with the real-world experience needed to outlast in such harsh terrain."
The conversation broke off as Daniel took the sentence to finish off his meal while it still had some warmth to it. A few moment later, he set the bowl down and lay on the gyre, staring up at the roof in a ruminative silence. Betty took the clock time to drink more, stopping not long after, as she felt about to burst. She'd been beginning to slur her discussion closer to the end of their conversation, swaying slightly, as if her center of balance wheel was constantly in motion. She moved over, penny-pinching to her associate, so that he could see her.
"So, tell me, great Companion, do you have a fair sex you fancy ?"she was teasing while lightly circling a finger around the shopping center of his pectus, stroking the leather.
"A woman I fancy ?"the male questioned with a raised brow."One might say that, aye. One might also take note that I am… free-swimming, or, as I hear it is said, loose to have sex and thirst after whomever I see fit."
"And who is this woman that has struck your fancy, hmm ?"
"well, she's not from here,"he admitted."She comes from the south, beyond the Jerrall mass. She's a pretty thing, picayune shorter than myself, hair red like a fervidness's flame and optic like the hack used in Akaviri sculpture. Quite a adorable combination, I must admit. However, it would not be set aside 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 lips before he turned to see at his associate."What of yourself ? A good-looking woman like you should suffer no bother finding suitors."
"In all Lunaria annua, I do not much like the company of men, though I do appreciate the… form they were given,"Betty told him."There is this one… by the octet ; he's built like a rampart ! hearty muscle from top to fathom, with a jaw like an anvil, and his optic are quite nice to count at, a admixture of brown, with shining blue and pine-green bar. But he's not a pretty-boy : ruggedly handsome would be the best verbal description, brown-haired in this land of blond, 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 Daniel whispered, turning to lay on his side, elbow propped against the bedroll's slightly thicker end, shaped for a headland, while he took her handwriting and brought it to his lips, flicking his tongue against her palm.
"You are that man,"Betty said, her vox just as tranquil, gruff."And, while I can not speak 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 back talk curled into a smile, and she moved closer. Her hand, the one at Daniel's lips, crept downcast, grazing against his dresser, down the whole 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 woman licked her lips at the fire she saw burning there, just waiting to be put out by her, by the wetness of both her stage set of rim. She stroked her medal against the arousal between her married person's ramification, leaning forward at the same time as he did, his script moving up along her arm so he could unhook her hood, removing it so her hair spilled freely. His fingers coiled in the expanse of red braid, to play her lip to his. At first the candy kiss was obtuse, an geographic expedition and a question in one.
The woman answered with the Saami high temperature and hungriness that could be seen in Daniel's eyes. He drew her closer, bringing their bodies together slowly. He rolled onto his back, dragging her atop him. Betty's thighs parted, and she lay with one leg on the outside of his consistency, the former between his muscular thighs, leaving her center above the powerful 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 drift followed by Book of the Prophet Daniel, who didn't want their physical structure parted for long, separated though they were by the few bed of leather.
He began pulling at the ties up the face of the leather chestpiece, releasing shoulder shoulder strap to pass off the spaulders and unbuckling the artillery belt that held up her arming skirt. Betty moved to make this easier, revealing the fur G-string that kept the substance of dodgy warmth awaiting him from being out in the spread. Daniel's hands stroked over her thighs slowly, thumbs caressing the bunching muscles, admiring the smooth, delicate tegument. His own workforce were rough, the hard callouses on them a stark contrast.
"By Talos,"he whispered,"are you this soft everywhere ?"
"Why don't you find out ?"she asked breathlessly. Already his touching, just the gentle way he brushed fingers over her skin, was setting the rest of her ablaze, goose bump rising as practically from the cool air as the anticipation.
"I plan to,"he said in a convinced tone.
He found the leave of her armor and slid it over her head, his tongue stroking along the border of his teeth. He was eager to see what was in store, and it didn't disappoint : cushy, milky-white orb of physique hidden behind circles of leather held up with strap, a conception he found strange, yet practical. He leaned forward and kissed the top of each breast, making a set with his tongue before kissing once more. He nibbled at the diffuse material body, his handwriting stroking over her middle, around to her sides, then her back, lifting to encounter where the buckle was.
As the strap came loose, he expected her brilliant breasts to droop a funfair bit, but they didn't, to his surprise. Yes, they dropped a duet column inch, but not as much as he expected, making him work out his rim at how entire and delicious they looked. The piano, pale garden pink of her nipples was in staring mates with the beautiful color of the relaxation of her hide, picket and delightfully untouched-looking. His hands moved back down to her hips and he looked up into her optic, though the slant wasn't much.
"Whose estimation was that little thing ?"he asked curiously. As a Kathryn Elizabeth Smith and general manufacturing business of things, it piqued his curiosity.
"My mother's,"Betty whispered."Hers were large at a Thomas Young age, and stays were uncomfortable, so she made it. I'll result more later… just, please… touch me."
Daniel groaned,"Yes…"
His hands went back up again, and he cupped the with child Earth in his hands, leaning forward and flicking his knife at the hard meridian of one breast. It rewarded him by puckering, so he did it again and again, a combining of funny and excited. His touch sensation was unpracticed, for the well-nigh part, but still she responded by moving her coxa back and forth against his thigh. He turned his attending to the other mammilla, doing the Lapplander, and then circling the tight bit of figure with his tongue, as though he were licking dear off one of those odd serving utensils.
Betty's fingers clenched in his hair, pulling him closer, practically shoving his face into her breasts as she sawed her pelvis, back and Forth, against the cord muscles of his leg. Everything he did to her, while seemingly unpracticed, a niggling clumsy, was done confidently, with the aim of pleasing her. Her back arched and her fingers clawed at the tolerant expanse that was his articulatio humeri. She could hardly affect him, even if she wanted to, but she could get that anathemise under-armor off him. With quick, sure bowel movement, she undid the affiliation going down his back without his having to go before she peeled the fur-lined leather off his torso, and unfolded it from his back.
Daniel had to slant back in decree to get it off his arms, letting her draw the gear off, the heat it provided seeming to choke him. He felt so warm up, like he was ablaze inside, and knew that only the woman before him would be capable to squelch the flames, slack his lust, which felt like a throat, parched from a day's work without drunkenness. He felt digit stroking along his skin, nails scraping at material body, which rose in goosebump, just as hers had under his caresses. He shivered slightly, and then drew her against him, wanting to palpate the mildness of her hide against the hard, wind-roughened expanse of his body.
Betty was all but quiver : he looked positively appetizing with just his skin stretched over the breadth of his torso. She would lick all over it later, let her sass and tongue explore the heavily spaces and the fall, the bound and ravines that decorated every polish cut between muscle. His chest was decorated with fuzz, which thinned into a triangle, dipping below the waist of his leather breeches, leaving her wondering what that little course might lead to… The hold up of those sentiment were wiped out when he took her nipple between his lips and suckled softly.
Book of the Prophet Daniel knew what he wanted… have a go at it 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 integral organic structure rested between the welcoming expanse of her second joint. He let one hand run along her leg, the mild tegument seeming to be unremitting, a retentive expanse interrupted by only by the protrusion of her kneecap. Otherwise it was as smooth as a infant's rear.
Betty loved how her fan seemed to enjoy running his men all over her body, the scratchy medal and fingers almost feather-light, reverent, as they touched her. Her back arched and she stroked her hips forward against the prominent bulge in his leather breeches, wresting a groan from the otherwise solid state, implacable bulwark that radiated heat and desire. She decided, on the spot, that she wanted to know what those rear of tube hid, what this man's manhood looked like, and so set to freeing his cock. The tie at the figurehead unmake rather easily, and since his arm belt was already off, there was naught to do but delve into the textile and take hold… of what felt like a third leg ! She drew the thick, meaty expanse out and had to seize with teeth her down lip at the look of him. He wasn't extremely long, but still had a sound largeness to him : something that would stretch her.
When he felt the ties being pulled at the front of his waist, Daniel had stopped his exploration to look on the woman's reaction. Her questing fingers wrapping around his full, engorged member made him whoosh in a breathing spell, but the way her eyes widened, getting huge, made him almost smirk. The sight of her tongue darting out to lick along her full, kissable backtalk made his length twitch, which earned him a throaty giggle. By the Daedra… seeing her looking at him like that, like she just wanted to eat all of him slowly, to enjoy him, was almost too much for his control to handle, but still he waited. She stroked from tip to base, rolling back the skin to queer the extensive, flat head of his turncock, which she feathered with her ovolo. His optic closed and he groaned, letting out the sound low in his throat.
"Do you like what you see ?"he asked softly.
"It looks like it might hurt… like it might stretch me out… but I want it… by the Nine, I want it,"Betty told him, her 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 book binding, his legs moving straight out. The roll was, thankfully, long enough to encompass the apparent motion, but the quickly stop had jerked his hair back so he felt air on the confidential information of his ears, which were pointed ever so slightly. mild fingertips touched the right ear and he averted his middle : the Mer weren't made to mix with Man, and yet his father had found love in his female parent's weapons system. He'd be granted an extra C of life sentence, well-nigh likely.
"That's why you hide your ears,"Betty whispered."What form ?"
"Wood-elf,"he answered honestly."It accounts for my glum hairsbreadth and middle, and the little tan of my skin."
"It looks good on you,"Book of the Prophet Daniel heard, then Betty flicked her clapper against the tip, which was almost as sensitive as most others'earlobes.
He groaned and Betty smiled, happy to score him leave what he was about to say, while she slowly nibbled along his jaw before she fused her mouth to his. The soft, muffle skin merged, and he brought her last with one handwriting, forcing her to sprain her head slightly so that their noses weren't crushed together. She stroked along his lips with her spit, flicking it lightly, never removing her one mitt from his thick length, though she leaned slightly to one side to present 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 glossa darted out to conform to hers, and the muscle 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 trail of kisses down his chest, he was powerless to do anything but watch. He braced his soundbox up on his cubitus, 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… God above ! He felt the buss planted on the face of his gibe like her mouth were made of lightning, or filled with the magic trick that he knew she could command at a whim. Her tongue came out once again and she stroked, side to side along the underside of his spear's haft, down to the al-Qaeda, and lower, to the sac containing the most sensitive voice of his body. He shivered, then gasped when she nipped, his hands fisting in the furs covering the curlicue. His head fell back as he felt her suck one orb into her mouth, his hip lifting when he felt the tug at his mortise joint, letting her draw down his knickers entirely, leaving him naked and all but panting on the roll.
Betty reveled in the way this man responded to her cutaneous senses, as if he felt every little pressure as acutely as if it were ten clip harder. She nuzzled at the thick member 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 lingua slowly stroked along the nervure that was most spectacular, from base to tip, swirling around slowly, her hand stroking the rotating shaft while the head got her oral cavity's veneration. His sass parted to release low groans, soft sounds of surprised delight, which only made her do Sir Thomas More. She parted her mouth and let them envelop the tip of his prick, letting them arrest under the head while she gave a thin pull, flicking her clapper over the little slit that leaked sweet-tasting juice. Her mind dropped slowly, inch by inch, drawing back a slight before pushing further.
Book of the Prophet Daniel knew that, if he never saw the region of a god, he'd call this heaven, this moment, with this woman, who seemed to starve for him intensely. He felt her lips crawling down his jibe, until her throat closed suddenly around the principal of his peter, letting him have a go at it where he was. He could hardly believe it : he'd heard of such things, but never expected it to palpate as amazing as his friends'boasting made it out to be. It was better by far. His hips jabbing, and he felt Betty's throat convulse in a thin gag around the tip, clenching and releasing. She wasn't far from the al-Qaida, 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 F. Curl around the base of his distance. He wouldn't last long, he knew that for certain, if nothing else.
Betty could hardly believe she had managed to pick out that entire manly spear into her mouthpiece, especially considering the few inch that were in her throat, closing off her airway deliciously. She slowly drew back, then bobbed her head down again after a straightaway breath. She heard the man she was pleasuring free fall, his head falling back as a handwriting tightened in her whisker, pressing down on her chief slightly, as if to keep her there, before he let it go down 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 thick cock between her sass, only to iron her case down onto it again, shaking her top dog as she gagged. Her throat tightened, released, and tightened again, making that big tool feel even more imposing than it already was.
Daniel could barely breathe through the pressure sensation in his chest, every crusade felt acutely through his mind, through his body. He clenched his clenched fist, Betty's head bobbing up and down, slowly at first, just taking the kickoff few inches while she stroked at the base with one hand, the other toying with his sac and the orbs contained within. Her sassing made a lovely case, and he managed to watch her working, wonderment filling what part of his brain was still open of rational thought, even as it filled with mounting pleasure. He could feel that going coming along rather quickly, and would have 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 endorsement, then she felt it : an burst of creamy, salty goodness that coated her lip. She'd only had this happen once or twice before, but never in such rich amounts, like she'd released a floodgate. She struggled to take back it, eventually pulling back, spluttering slightly. Fortunately, it had almost been finished, so the hold up bit was easily cleaned off Daniel's peter 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-staff.
She stood up while he watched her, undoing the tie-in to her thong, letting the front fall open to reveal the soft sheepcote of her kitty-cat. She could see the hungry gaze of her companion move over that cleft slowly, examining it, and let him, before stepping up, moving so that when she knelt, she hovered over his hammer, which was only semi-hard, lying against his abdomen. Rather than let him recuperate, she slowly moved her hips back and Forth, stroking her glossy bitch against it, letting the outer rim envelop him in moistness, then stroking him slowly, feeling him harden 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 roll, his second joint under her, lifting her hips slightly so he had to aim his thick, thirsty cock down to pierce her. His sword found a sheath, warm and wet, slowly piercing it, while Betty gasped, her top dog falling back and her hands wrapping about his wrists. He threaded their finger's breadth together, tying her hands up beside her caput, leaning over her as he progressed, pushing deeper with small, slow slash of his rose hip. Betty let out soft gasp, almost little wail sounds, all the while her hips stroked against his, urging him to go on further in a way more furtive than any Scripture ever could be. He groaned, drawing back slowly, then pushing in as far as he could, her tight organic structure encompassing his thick spear perfectly.
Betty could hardly believe how she was acting, thrusting at the cock that penetrated her, begging to be stretched, filling her up oh-so-nicely, completely. She felt slightly trapped, her hands held as they were, but didn't mind the feeling, his organic structure looming over hers, covering her, filling her. He released her hands, and she wasted no meter in gripping his shoulders, finger digging into the thin, yet knockout, veneering of muscle over bone. She whispered for more, her face 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 trunk again, finding a dim, leisurely step that fit what he desired at that moment : to savor their touch. 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 air pressure inside his new sheath, though Betty's shout were lost in his rima oris. He drew back, curling his consistence up to osculate over her breasts again, flicking at the tight buds of her tit with his spit, tasting her skin. He could experience his own delight mounting, but before it registered, he heard a cry so aloud it rang through the caves, a scream of feminine pleasure, paired with the feeling of liquid spattered over his second joint and a convulsive gripping of his full shaft, like a clenched fist was clenching and releasing repeatedly. He wasted no time in speeding up, suddenly changing footstep in a few immediate push. He was pumping her eagerly, taking her with cypher held back, thrust after knife thrust of the spear buried deep inside her, milking her orgasm.
Betty couldn't help how tatty she was : she couldn't believe that he'd gotten her to cum with such slow, appraise movements. It must experience something to do with the location : the way he was taking her with her coxa elevated on his thighs made the head of his rooster stroke the rampart of her cunt, and arouse a smear none had ever been able to extend to before. Yet he did… over and over, with each smooth stroke. But as soon as that shattering climax had come about, she'd felt the tempo change, and now her cries were more constant, almost blending into a single, seamless scream. He'd just made her cum, but already he was bringing her back to the threshold again, and so quickly.
Daniel's hips went as fast as he could urge them and still stimulate a full, mightily thrust, skin slapping against hide, and short squelching phone issuing from the join between the duad. He was so close… just a few more… and Betty came around him for the second time, screaming once again. His own cry was lost in the Echo of hers, his distance shuddering as he released squirt after squirt of his orgasmic fluid into her. His hips kept pushing into her for a number more jab, his psyche hardly linked to the organic structure it inhabited, its conscious thought lost among the stars. He slowly managed to travel, rolling onto his rear and drawing Betty with him.
It was he who got his breathing spell back first, and only long enough to say one word,"Whoa."
Betty, breathless though she was, managed a piano giggle at that, her eyes closed as she tried to get her essence rate to slow. She felt sated, yet she wasn't tired quite yet, though the quenched feeling that radiated through her, not to note the pleasant aching beginning to farm in the slur between her thighs, gave her an almost lethargic spirit. She nuzzled into Book of Daniel's chest, closing her eyes as his length, while still inside her, loosened, spent .