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Using a spare shirt wrapped around his hand, he grabbed the large cauldron of stew off the fire, setting it down nearby and sprinkling in some salt from a spice pot above the flame. He stirred it in with some herbs 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 ones were rarely good, but they’d gotten lucky with these particular 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 gauntlets and boots not long after, setting them in the pile with his armor. The roll provided some padding between his ass and the rock, but not enough for it to be considered truly comfortable. He polished off the last of the prepared stew and the mushrooms they’d found, then lay back with his eyes 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 mouth half-full. “I had to learn somehow. I pretended to agree with their philosophy, but secretly studied more than they would have liked. I constantly exceeded their expectations 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 explore the depths. And it appears to require some sort of sphere that’s to be attuned to their particular harmonic 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 moment before she frowned, “How did you manage to word that? I thought you were supposed to be some sort of dumb warrior-brute.”
“My mother was interested in magical properties, and figured that, even though I showed no aptitude for it, I should know something of it to help protect myself,” he shrugged, “that, and I’m particularly fascinated with the Dwarves. Their armament was sturdier than anything I’ve ever seen. I believe the metal is a combination of good old-fashioned steel, corundum and gold. The problem 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 make that shield?” Betty asked. “Not to mention your blade.”
“Well, some explorer found dwemer struts and a few solid metal blocks, and gave them to Calcelmo, who heard I was looking for items to make dwarven armor, and offered them to me in exchange for a service,” he shrugged. “I heard that the items were of optimal strength 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 ingots makes items of astounding strength. 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?”
“Well, I’m not a master, but I am good enough to make Ebony, if that counts as good,” he shrugged. “I also have experience making and tempering Elven and that green Glass stuff.”
“So you don’t just do heavy armament?” she asked skeptically.
“Eorlund has been helping me,” Daniel admitted. “Vilkas and Skjor were the ones 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 things for myself. For instance, to repair a notched weapon, you heat up a small piece of metal and insert it into the notch, heat the entire blade, then hammer all the metal hard, to make it hold tightly. The patch melds almost seamlessly with the original, and you have a continuous, sharp 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 best smith in Skyrim. I say arguably because Skyrim is home to many good, solid Nord blacksmiths, each saying they’re as good or better, and that the Companions’ smith is only the best due to his good fortune. The Skyforge behind the place is, in all honesty, the oldest thing in Skyrim: its discovery led to the mead-hall Jorrvaskr and the Companions’ base 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 client, we wear our Skyforge Steel weaponry,” he admitted. “The magical properties of the forge seem to work only on steel weapons and armors, holding the metal’s composition tighter than with a normal forge. However, it does work on other metals: my shield, sword and mace were made in the Skyforge’s fires. They’ve never required maintenance.”
“That’s astounding,” Betty said softly. “Do I get a weapon…?”
“Well, you have to go on your Trial, first,” Daniel shrugged. “Afterwards, Kodlak will dictate to Eorlund that he will make you a weapon 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 metal of Ebony, or even the Dwarven stuff: doesn’t hurt that they’re nice to look at, either.”
“That is true,” Betty agreed. “But why doesn’t the Skyforge affect blunt objects, like maces and warhammers?”
Daniel sat up to meet the woman’s eyes as he explained, “Well, my theory is that few warriors liked the mace when the forge was created: it’s slow, off-balance, and heavy, 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 heavy armament. Some would mistake them for their creations, the automatons. In any event, since armor wasn’t so covering, there were numerous weak points, 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 joints, though those can be covered with chain, as I’ve done with my own armament. A hard head can effectively turn a man’s protection into his enemy. Cave in the chest-plate enough, an enemy can’t get the breath he needs. Smash a shield with the head of a warhammer, you have the ability to dent it, or even shatter it, rendering it entirely useless. Blunt weapons have the potential to turn an enemy’s greatest asset, such as their hard, thick armor plating, into their weakest point. You merely have to wait for an opening… or create one with a well-timed bash.”
“Your reasoning 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.”
“Well, yes, I suppose that would seem to be the case. But, with that added weight, as long as my shield is in the right position, I can block anything and barely be moved. I let the lightly-armored man or woman do their dance, slashing and bashing against my overall mass and, when they lose their energy, I deliver a bash during an attack, knocking them off balance. This can be followed up with an overhead smash, or a crescent strike, or even a horizontal slash. With their limited protection, even in that Glass stuff that lightly armored people tend to aspire to get, I can break them in a matter of a few hits. I will admit that, if someone gets in my blind spots, I’ll have an issue turning to meet the strike, but my gear has taken hits before, and come through pretty well intact. Might get staggered or have a chip to work out, but I won’t feel much more than a bruise.”
“And what if a mage like myself attacks?” Betty asked, leaning back.
“Well,” Daniel had to think for a few moments, “with the right enchantments, I can negate your offensive magic. I have been working on doing something to that effect. The Companions keep getting a lot of complaints about rogue mages and atronachs, but when we try to take them down it’s risky, seeing as few of our number employ defensive magic. I’m one of the few who sees magic’s potential to make warriors stronger than ever. Even the study of the magic of plant life, alchemy, can increase a person’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 cast 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 combat, or some such nonsense. Magic has been around long before Man or Mer were even an idea, let alone a civilization. The time of Legend, where our oldest stories come from, was riddled with magic more powerful than that commanded by all the men and mer since combined into a whole. And let us not forget of the first records of history, in the time of Almalexia, or even further back, when Talos and Ysgramor set out from Atmora to claim new lands.”
“You are not a mere brute, it would seem. You have some semblance of intellect hidden away behind those lovely eyes of yours.”
“Well, I am sure it is nothing 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 place does not provide a person with the real-world experience needed to survive in such harsh terrain.”
The conversation broke off as Daniel took the time to finish off his meal while it still had some warmth to it. A few minutes later, he set the bowl down and lay on the roll, staring up at the ceiling in a contemplative silence. Betty took the time to drink more, stopping not long after, as she felt about to burst. She’d been beginning to slur her words closer to the end of their conversation, swaying slightly, as if her center of balance was constantly in motion. She moved over, closer to her companion, so that he could see her.
“So, tell me, great Companion, do you have a woman you fancy?” she was teasing while lightly circling a finger around the center of his chest, stroking the leather.
“A woman I fancy?” the male questioned with a raised brow. “One might say that, aye. One might also note that I am… unattached, or, as I hear it is said, free to love and lust after whomever I see fit.”
“And who is this woman that has struck your fancy, hmm?”
“Well, she’s not from here,” he admitted. “She comes from the south, beyond the Jerrall Mountains. She’s a pretty thing, little shorter than myself, hair red like a fire’s flame and eyes like the jade used in Akaviri sculpture. Quite a lovely combination, I must admit. 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 woman,” Betty said softly.
“Aye,” he nodded, a smile formed on his lips before he turned to look at his companion. “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 appreciate the… form they were given,” Betty told him. “There is this one… by the Eight; he’s built like a wall! Solid muscle from top to bottom, with a jaw like an anvil, and his eyes are quite nice to look at, a mixture of brown, with bright blue and pine-green streaks. But he’s not a pretty-boy: ruggedly handsome would be the best 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 cannot speak for this man, but I know that I am interested,” Daniel whispered, turning to lay on his side, elbow propped against the bedroll’s slightly thicker end, shaped for a head, while he took her hand and brought it to his lips, flicking his tongue against her palm.
“You are that man,” Betty said, her voice just as quiet, husky. “And, while I cannot 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 lips curled into a smile, and she moved closer. Her hand, the one at Daniel’s lips, crept lower, grazing against his chest, down the solid wall of his abdomen, to cup his crotch.
The great warrior gasped in surprise, looking down before looking back up at Betty, his gaze a smolder of desire. The woman licked her lips at the fire she saw burning there, just waiting to be put out by her, by the wetness of both her sets of lips. She stroked her palm against the arousal between her partner’s legs, leaning forward at the same time 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 expanse of red tresses, to bring her lips to his. At first the kiss was slow, an exploration and a question in one.
The woman answered with the same heat and hunger 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 body, the other between his muscular thighs, 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 Daniel, who didn’t want their bodies parted for long, separated though they were by the few layers of leather.
He began pulling at the ties up the sides of the leather chestpiece, releasing shoulder straps to draw off the spaulders and unbuckling the weapons belt that held up her arming skirt. Betty moved to make this easier, revealing the fur thong that kept the core of slick heat awaiting him from being out in the open. Daniel’s hands stroked over her thighs slowly, thumbs caressing the bunching muscles, admiring the smooth, soft skin. His own hands 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 touch, just the gentle way he brushed fingers over her skin, was setting the rest of her ablaze, gooseflesh rising as much from the cool air as the anticipation.
“I plan to,” he said in a confident tone.
He found the parting of her 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 straps, a design he found strange, yet practical. He leaned forward and kissed the top of each breast, making a circle with his tongue before kissing once more. He nibbled at the soft flesh, his hands stroking over her middle, around to her sides, then her back, lifting to find where the buckle was.
As the strap came loose, he expected her glorious breasts to droop a fair bit, but they didn’t, to his surprise. Yes, they dropped a couple inches, 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 nipples 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 hips and he looked up into her eyes, though the angle wasn’t much.
“Whose idea was that little thing?” he asked curiously. As a smith and general maker of things, it piqued his curiosity.
“My mother’s,” Betty whispered. “Hers were large at a young age, and corsets were uncomfortable, so she made it. I’ll answer more later… just, please… touch me.”
Daniel groaned, “Yes…”
His hands went back up again, and he cupped the large globes in his hands, leaning forward and flicking his tongue at the hard peak of one breast. 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 hips back and forth against his thigh. He turned his attention to the other nipple, doing the same, and then circling the tight bit of flesh with his tongue, as though he were licking honey 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 hips, back and forth, against the corded muscles of his leg. Everything he did to her, while seemingly unpracticed, a little clumsy, was done confidently, with the aim of pleasing her. Her back arched and her fingers clawed at the broad expanse that was his shoulders. She could hardly move him, even if she wanted to, but she could get that damn under-armor off him. With quick, sure movements, she undid the ties going down his back without his having to move before she peeled the fur-lined leather off his torso, and unfolded it from his back.
Daniel had to lean back in order 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 able to quench the flames, slake his lust, which felt like a throat, parched from a day’s work without drink. He felt fingers 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 feel the softness of her skin against the hard, 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 torso. She would lick all over it later, let her lips and tongue explore the hard spaces and the dips, the edges and ravines that decorated every smooth cut between muscle. His chest was decorated with hair, which thinned into a triangle, dipping below the waist of his leather breeches, leaving her wondering what that little path might lead to… The last of those thoughts 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 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 skin seeming to be never-ending, a long expanse interrupted by only by the bump of her kneecap. Otherwise it was as smooth as a baby’s rear.
Betty loved how her lover seemed to enjoy running his hands all over her body, the rough palms 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, implacable wall that radiated heat and desire. She decided, on the spot, that she wanted to know what those breeches hid, what this man’s manhood looked like, and so set to freeing his cock. The tie at the front undid rather easily, and since his weapons belt was already off, there was nothing to do but delve into the fabric and take hold… of what felt like a third leg! She drew the thick, meaty expanse out and had to bite her lower lip at the look of him. He wasn’t extremely long, but still had a good breadth to him: something that would stretch her.
When he felt the ties being pulled at the front of his waist, Daniel had stopped his exploration to watch the woman’s reaction. Her questing fingers wrapping around his full, engorged member made him hiss in a breath, 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 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 control to handle, but still he waited. She stroked from tip to base, rolling back the skin to expose the wide, flat head of his cock, which she feathered with her thumb. His eyes 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…” 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 tips of his ears, 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 mother’s arms. He’d be granted an extra century of life, most likely.
“That’s why you hide your ears,” Betty whispered. “What kind?”
“Wood-elf,” he answered honestly. “It accounts for my dark hair and eyes, and the slight tan of my skin.”
“It looks good on you,” Daniel heard, then Betty flicked her tongue against the tip, which was almost as sensitive as most 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 soft, damp skin merged, and he brought her close with one hand, forcing her to turn her head slightly so that their noses weren’t crushed together. She stroked along his lips with her tongue, flicking it lightly, never removing her one hand from his thick length, though she leaned slightly to one side to give him room. Even the one who assaulted her hadn’t been built like this, and the only other man she’d had since then was no match in any way. Daniel’s tongue darted out to meet hers, and the muscles twined together, stroking, dancing, moving to a tempo they both found easily.
Daniel was disappointed, almost to the 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 body up on his elbows, 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 whim. Her tongue came out once again and she stroked, side to side along the underside of his spear’s haft, down to the base, and lower, to the sac containing the most sensitive part of his body. He shivered, then gasped when she nipped, his hands fisting in the furs covering the roll. His head fell back as he felt her suck one orb into her mouth, his hips lifting when he felt the tug at his ankles, letting her 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 touch, as if he felt every slight 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 slight tug on it before letting it pop from her mouth. Her tongue slowly stroked along the vein that was most prominent, from base to tip, swirling around slowly, her hand stroking the shaft while the head got her mouth’s devotion. His lips parted to release low groans, 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 tongue over the small slit that leaked sweet-tasting juice. Her head dropped slowly, inch by inch, drawing back a little before pushing further.
Daniel knew that, if he never saw the realm of a god, he’d call this heaven, this moment, with this woman, 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 cock, letting him know where he was. He could hardly believe it: he’d heard of such things, but never expected it to feel as amazing as his friends’ 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 base, and he hoped that she’d try to go all the way… which she did, suddenly, arching forward and pushing her nose into the curls around the base of his length. He wouldn’t last long, he knew that for certain, if nothing else.
Betty could hardly believe she had managed to take that entire manly spear into her mouth, 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 drop, his head falling back as a hand tightened in her hair, 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 thick cock between her lips, only to press her face down onto it again, shaking her head as she gagged. Her throat tightened, released, and tightened again, making that big shaft feel even more imposing than it already was.
Daniel could barely breathe through the pressure in his chest, every movement felt acutely through his mind, through his body. He clenched his fists, Betty’s head bobbing up and down, slowly at first, 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 lovely sheath, and he managed to watch her working, wonderment filling what part of his brain was still capable of rational thought, even as it filled with mounting pleasure. He could feel that release 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 second, then she felt it: an explosion of creamy, salty goodness that coated her mouth. She’d only had this happen once or twice before, but never in such copious 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 back still slightly arched, fists 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 thong, letting the front fall open to reveal the soft folds of her pussy. 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 cock, which was only semi-hard, lying against his abdomen. Rather than let him recuperate, she slowly moved her hips back and forth, stroking her slick cunt against it, letting the outer lips 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 thighs under her, lifting her hips slightly so he had to point his thick, hungry cock down to pierce her. His sword found a sheath, warm and wet, slowly piercing it, while Betty gasped, her head falling back and her hands wrapping about his wrists. He threaded their fingers together, tying her hands up beside her head, leaning over her as he progressed, pushing deeper with small, slow strokes of his hips. Betty let out soft gasps, almost little mewling sounds, all the while her hips stroked against his, urging him to progress 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 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 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 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, easy pace that fit what he desired at that moment: to savor their contact. This wasn’t satisfactory, though: he felt more than heard a wordless plea, asking him to go for broke, but he wouldn’t, not yet. With leisurely strokes, he built up the pressure inside his new sheath, though Betty’s cries were lost in his mouth. He drew back, curling his body up to kiss over her breasts again, flicking at the tight buds of her nipples with his tongue, tasting her skin. He could feel his own pleasure mounting, but before it registered, he heard a cry so loud it rang through the caves, a scream of feminine pleasure, paired with the feeling of liquid spattered over his thighs and a convulsive gripping of his entire shaft, like a fist was clenching and releasing repeatedly. He wasted no time in speeding up, suddenly changing pace in a few quick thrusts. He was pumping her eagerly, taking her with nothing held back, thrust after thrust of the spear buried deep inside her, milking her orgasm.
Betty couldn’t help how loud she was: she couldn’t believe that he’d gotten her to cum with such slow, measured movements. It must have something to do with the position: the way he was taking her with her hips elevated on his thighs made the head of his cock stroke the walls of her cunt, and stimulate a spot none had ever been able to reach 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 single, seamless scream. He’d just made her cum, but already he was bringing her back to the brink again, and so quickly.
Daniel’s hips went as fast as he could urge them and still make a full, powerful thrust, 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 time, screaming once again. His own cry was lost in the echoes of hers, his length shuddering as he released spurt after spurt of his orgasmic fluid into her. His hips kept pushing into her for a number more thrusts, his mind hardly linked to the body it inhabited, its conscious thought lost among the stars. He slowly managed to move, rolling onto his back and drawing Betty with him.
It was he who got his breath back first, and only long enough to say one word, “Whoa.”
Betty, breathless though she was, managed a soft giggle at that, her eyes 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 thighs, gave her an almost lethargic feel. She nuzzled into Daniel’s chest, closing her eyes as his length, while still inside her, loosened, spent.

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