Chapter 13 Pheromones #2
Smiling up at me, she tilts her head to the side and her long black hair tumbles over her shoulder, brushing the backs of my fingers. “When you put it that way… yes.”
I bite back another groan, suddenly imagining doing that—putting my hands on her and running them wherever I please, finding all the places she likes being touched the most. The idea destroys the last of my resistance in one fell swoop.
Petting her will be safe. I can keep my hands gentle. “I will pet you,” I grunt, eager to do exactly that, “if that is what you want.” The palms of my hands tingle. I wonder where she wants me to stroke her first. Her hair? Her feet? I could pet her all I want, all of her, without hurting her.
She does not respond, and I cannot seek permission in her eyes, for they have dropped to stare between us once again.
I try to get her attention, unnerved by the way she is staring at my bulge so intensely, by slipping one of my hands up her arm to pet the side of her head first. “No… sex,” I repeat the word she used, remembering it from stories in the orb I had, long ago.
“I will not mate you.” The words leave my mouth thickened by the hiss building in my chest as my bulge seems to expand and push harder at my slit, on the cusp of emerging.
The sensation is unfamiliar, though I have always known the purpose of my slit and what is kept behind it.
I have seen other males with their stems released, seen them mate a female.
But until now, I have been proud to have never experienced an overwhelming desire to release my own.
I knew back then, as I still do, if it ever happened, if I ever succumbed, I would have to send the female far away so as not to breed her.
But this female only wants petting. That, I can do.
Sabrina shivers again and her hands slide down my front, toward my partially opened slit.
I know I should stop her; I should let my head clear and seek those behind the deep door for help, but as her touch slips closer to my center, I find it impossible to do so.
All I am capable of is inhaling her alluring scent and wanting more.
I cant back on my tail to make space to watch her explore, and pleasure floods me the moment her hands slide down the front of my tail and over my straining slit.
“You are a big… male. You’re releasing a lot of pheromones,” she murmurs, and something more I do not understand as she skims her fingers down to the bottom of my long slit.
She strokes them back up, petting me the way I thought I was going to pet her, tickling the tips of her fingers over me.
“I’ve been wanting to touch you,” she says, her voice quiet. “To feel your scales…”
I close my eyes and moan as she rubs me—caressing me with her fingertips, cupping me with her palm. I am so lost in the new sensations that at first I do not realize she is bending into me, not until her tongue licks over my stomach.
Freezing, all logical thought vanishes with the shy slide and dab of her tongue.
My eyes fly open and, staring down at her, I am awestruck as it roams down my front and toward my bulge.
All my reservations disappear at the feel of her mouth on the most sensitive part of my body.
Part of me tells me to cling to the thought that this is not right, but it is impossible to hold onto.
“Ssssabrina,” I hiss her name deeply, disturbed by how much I need to release my sex and push it inside of her.
Suddenly nothing else matters. However I do this, it needs to be done. Trembling all over, my tail thumps the floor hard.
“Darolus,” she breathes my name against my flesh, her lips moving to the words, making my blood race and my nerve endings quiver. “I feel like I might… I’m sorry… I… I feel horny. Tell me to stop.”
Confused, I peer down at her through half-mast eyes, searching for horns. “There are no horns on your body,” I pant.
She is silent for a moment. Then she chuckles against me.
Like it has a will of its own, my slit gives way, the muscles keeping it closed collapsing, releasing the monstrous appendage within.
I gasp, and Sabrina jerks back in surprise as it erupts out and upon her, but she grasps it fearlessly before it sags heavily against my tail.
When her soft hands close around it, my head falls back from the stunning burst of pleasure.
Baring my fangs to the ceiling, I drag her whole body against mine, holding her lithe form to my throbbing length.
Helplessly I shove it against her, winding my tail around her to keep her where I need.
“Darolus!” She wiggles against me as I grip her arms tightly, partially lifting her off the floor.
Releasing my stem, she grabs my shoulders and, upon the next shove, jumps into my arms and clasps my sides with her thighs.
Pushing her whole body against mine, she rocks as I thrust into the cradle of her hips.
I thrust again and her legs hook around my waist as she climbs me higher, her hips undulating against me, grinding on me as hard as I am her.
“God, you’re big,” she whines, her voice breathless and nice.
Too nice. Everything about her is nice. I try to remember to keep my grasp soft, to remember how much smaller she is, but a haze of pleasure and instinct has taken over my mind and made such concerns seem meaningless.
Somehow, I convince my hands to loosen, letting her take over as I lean back on a curve of my tail.
Reaching for her black hair instead, I run my hands over it, through it.
Clasping it between my fingers, I relish the silky texture, taking my time to relearn the feel of it—like water dripping through my fingers.
“You really are large,” she says, sounding huffy again, rubbing along my length in a sinuous dance. “I knew you had to have a cock somewhere.”
“I am,” I agree with a grunt. “Large.”
My stem seems to get longer and fuller each time she moves up and down, her body guiding its release from my own.
Now that it is no longer contained by a wall of muscle, the hot pressure of arousal is filling it, hardening it, flooding me from the inside.
Her clothes abrade me, but it is not enough discomfort to dull the pleasure, and I am too overcome with amazing sensations to stop long enough to remove them.
Instead, I want more, I want to see what else she can do to me.
Sensations streak, blasting my senses. She moans as I lean farther back, practically lying on my tail so she is able to sink firmly atop me.
Arching up, she presses her hands against my stomach, using all her slight weight to rock against my length.
Running my hands up and down her arms, her sides, through her luscious hair, I watch and feel, holding back for fear I might frighten her away or hurt her.
She is not afraid when she should be. But her lack of fear eases my own.
My chest tightens with affection. Reaching through the veil of black silk to cup her cheek, I lift her chin to look at her face.
Her lips are wet and glistening, open around her panting breaths, and her cheeks have gone from pink to red. The glazed heat in her eyes enchants me. “You are beautiful,” I rumble. I could stare at her all day and never be bored, happy to have such a beautiful treasure in my trove.
Her lips rise into another smile as she laughs breathily. Then her eyes abruptly sharpen. “Just heavy petting, okay?” she says, though it comes across as a question.
“Heavy… petting,” I agree, then narrow my own eyes in return as I cup the back of her neck and squeeze. “I will make you my pet if that is what you want, female.”
Her shoulders rise and fall as she chuckles again. “If anyone’s going to be the pet here, naga, it’s going to be you.”
I hmph, unconvinced, and watch as she sits up, grabbing the bottom of her shirt and tugging it over her head.
Her long hair goes tumbling once more when she tosses the shirt aside, and suddenly her human breasts are on display, showing off two tight pink nipples.
I thrust my hips up hard, into her; she bounces on me and grabs at my chest to brace before settling the crux between her open thighs right above my stem.
Coiling my tail, I create a barrier around us.
In the hushed circle of my massive tail, her amusement gently fades and silence takes over, only broken up by airy inhales and a deep, building hiss I cannot prevent.
She runs her hands over my chest, shoulders, and arms, feeling me as she presses down heavily against my length, rubbing her bottom against it, and I explore her as well, gliding my own hands over her head, hair, and arms, trailing them to her folded legs.
Long and supple, and clutching my tail on either side, they are strange to me, unique in the way they bend and spread and end in another set of ten digits.
Sabrina starts to kick and chastise me when I trace the shape of her bare feet. “Stop! I’m ticklish. Not my feet!”
“Ticklish?” I remove my hands swiftly, and slide them back up her legs to her waist.
“My skin doesn’t like being handled down there,” she explains, grunting as she rises up again, unbuttons her pants, and works them off her legs one at a time. Then she is wearing nothing but a scrap of cloth between her legs.
“Take the rest off,” I demand, knowing that if she has a place to be seeded, it will be under her clothes and between her legs. “I want to see you. All of you. I do not wear armor over my form. It is only fair.”
She squirms lower and runs her mouth up my stem. “Fair? Who said anything about being fair?”
I jerk against her, forgetting about her clothes. My newly released sex is sensitive beyond belief and aches the more she touches me down there. Each new swell of sensation tests my control, weakening it—perhaps it is for the best that her sex remains hidden…
In a graceful undulation, Sabrina swipes her tongue from my stem all the way up my body, over my neck and jaw, ending at my lips. I carefully circle my arms around her as she rubs her soft mouth over mine, lashing her tongue out to lick me there too.
Tasting myself, tasting her, I haul her up against me, picking her up to take her to my nest. When I lay her upon it, she arches upward and presses her lips to mine again. “Kiss me back,” she whispers.
I open my mouth against hers, and her tongue slips inside of me: gentle, teasing, and silky wet.
My own immediately comes forward to meet her invasion, forked and long where hers is singular and blunt.
Sighing, she rocks up against me, and my hands roam her skin, my fingers spreading out to touch the entirety of her.
Trying to contain my eagerness, I finally start petting her in earnest, caressing her everywhere I can reach.
Soon, driven by the slip of her tongue along mine, I push into her mouth and bring the invasion to her body. Her fingers fan my chest, the pads of them teasing over the small scales that dot my sides, testing them with her fingertips. “You’re much softer than you look.”
“You are exactly as soft as you look.” I scoop my arms under her body and lift her into an embrace.
She relaxes into my hold as I roll us over, rubbing my appendage up into her barely covered skin when she rests astride me once more.
She may not have a tail, but she is as female as she can be, her unusual human musk of arousal driving me close to the edge of restraint.
The temptation to take her completely is nearly overwhelming.
I thrust against her again with a grunt, mimicking the actions of a true mating.
My stem engorges, growing thicker and harder still, and the more it expands, the worse the ache in my center gets.
Reaching between us to grab my shaft, my fingers wrap around the knot in my sensitive flesh.
Seemingly following my lead, Sabrina reaches between us and grips my stem’s tip, right above my own fist. As she twists her hand, pleasure mounts, relieving some of my stem’s ache, and I jerk into her touch. “More,” I immediately demand.
She slides down my front and hovers over me, taking away my view of her open mouth with the veil of her hair.
Her tongue returns, first to my tip, then, after she pushes my hand off my prick, to the dense throb of my knot.
She strokes and licks me at the same time, and my head falls back as exquisite sensations course through me, almost too much for me to withstand.
My sex stiffens entirely outward from my slit, swollen with pleasure.
Just when I think it can stretch no further, hot liquid gushes from the tip, dripping down the sides, smoothing the motion of her hand.
Loud, rumbling hissing erupts from my throat, unbidden. I feel Sabrina, purr and run her tongue up the side of my shaft to catch some of the pearly fluid. The mere idea of her tasting me makes me feel like I am about to explode. Nothing could be more pleasurable than what I am experiencing now.
But she proves that wrong when she places her mouth over my tip and sucks.