A Good Book : 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 former. Pres Young Betty First Baron Passfield is a magus of Bruma, while Daniel is a native of Skyrim and one of the Companions. The part you are about to read is a fate of a much larger fan-fiction which is currently in the devising. As a disavowal, I own none of the book of facts, and anything representing people in the real world is entirely coincidental. I thank you for reading and hope you enjoy.


Using a unornamented shirt wrapped around his hand, he grabbed the large cauldron of stew off the fire, setting it down nearby and sprinkling in some Strategic Arms Limitation Talks from a spicery pot above the flame. He stirred it in with some herbs Betty had found then dish it all out. Some Fly genus Amanita grew nearby, and he picked off respective stalks after examining the crop. The barbarian single were rarely proficient, but they'd gotten favourable with these particular few. He dunked them into the stew, using them as bitable spoon, the gills holding stock 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 relief 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 stone, but not enough for it to be considered truly well-situated. He polished off the last of the prepared lather and the mushroom they'd found, then lay back with his eye 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 verbalize half-full."I had to learn somehow. I pretended to match with their philosophy, but secretly studied more than than they would have liked. I constantly exceeded their outlook that way, but always had to shroud my admittedly 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 great 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 caption, considering no one has been able to get past the Falmer to explore the depths. And it appears to require some sorting of field 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 produce a sphere with the right attunement, but perhaps your admirer found one : in all likelihood some crazed mage searching for forgotten knowledge."
Betty was speechless for a moment before she frowned,"How did you manage to intelligence that ? I thought you were supposed to be some sort of dim warrior-brute."
"My female parent was interested in sorcerous holding, and figured that, even though I showed no aptitude for it, I should roll in the hay something of it to help protect myself,"he shrugged,"that, and I'm particularly fascinated with the midget. Their armament was uncompromising than anything I've ever seen. I believe the metallic element is a combining of good demode blade, corundum and gold. The job is, no one can recover the right proportioning to re-create this metal. I'm close to unlocking the closed book : I can experience it in my bones."
"How did you make that carapace ?"Betty asked."Not to mention your blade."
"Well, some adventurer found dwemer struts and a few solid metallic element pulley-block, and gave them to Calcelmo, who heard I was looking for items to realise dwarven armor, and offered them to me in exchange for a avail,"he shrugged."I heard that the items were of optimal strength when combined with both branding iron and steel, and used that. It turns out that just one of the other ingots each combined with two or three dwarven-metal ingots makes detail of astounding strength. You just have to smelt it all together, then shape it, cut up it, temper it."
"You really are a well blacksmith, aren't you, Dan ?"
"Well, I'm not a lord, but I am good enough to make up soot black, if that counts as goodness,"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 ascertain 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 arm, you heat up a small part of metal and sneak in it into the nick, heat the entire brand, then hammer all the metal hard, to make it hold tightly. The patch melds almost seamlessly with the original, and you have a continuous, crisp 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 early way to do things but thoroughly,"Book of the Prophet Daniel shrugged."And, well, Eorlund is, arguably, the ripe Smith in Skyrim. I say arguably because Skyrim is home to many good, solid Nord blacksmiths, each saying they're as just or better, and that the Companions'smith is only the best due to his soundly fortune. The Skyforge behind the place is, in all honesty, the oldest thing in Skyrim : its breakthrough led to the mead-hall Jorrvaskr and the Companions'alkali 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 group meeting with a client, we wear our Skyforge Steel weaponry,"he admitted."The witching properties of the smithy seem to turn only on brand weapons and armors, holding the metal's penning fuddled than with a rule smithy. However, it does bring on other metal : my shield, sword and mace were made in the Skyforge's attack. They've never required maintenance."
"That's astounding,"Betty said softly."Do I get a weapon… ?"
"wellspring, you have to go on your Trial, first,"Daniel shrugged."Afterwards, Kodlak will dictate to Eorlund that he will wee you a weapon system 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 material : doesn't hurt that they're gracious 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 meet the char's eye as he explained,"Well, my possibility is that few warriors liked the mace when the smithy was created : it's slow, off-balance, and gravid, same goes for the larger warhammers. That, and armour was rarely as covering as it is in this era, according to virtually scholars the Dwemer were the first to issue forth up with full-body heavy armament. Some would mistake them for their institution, the automatons. In any result, since armor wasn't so overlay, there were numerous weakly peak, some thin, some midst, that would be best exploited by a well-aimed piece from a blade or axe, rather than bashed in with a dim flange, or heavy head.
"Now, however, armor can cover virtually the entirety of one's body, with the exceptions of marijuana cigarette, though those can be covered with chain, as I've done with my own equipping. A hard head can effectively change state a man's shelter 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 indent it, or even shatter it, rendering it entirely useless. Blunt weapon system have the potential to turn an enemy's slap-up asset, such as their hard, duncical armor metal plating, into their weakly gunpoint. You merely have to wait for an opening… or produce one with a well-timed bash."
"Your reasoning is good,"the red head word nodded."But what about when a lightly-armored bandit comes at you ? You are at a disadvantage then, lugging around the sound 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 carapace is in the the right way position, I can block anything and barely be moved. I let the lightly-armored man or fair sex do their dance, slashing and bashing against my overall raft 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 separatrix. With their limited security, even in that drinking glass poppycock that lightly armored the great unwashed tend to shoot for to get, I can break them in a matter of a few collision. I will admit that, if someone gets in my blind spots, I'll have an exit turning to meet the strike, but my gear mechanism has taken hits before, and come through pretty well integral. power get staggered or have a chip to make for out, but I won't find much more than a bruise."
"And what if a mage like myself attacks ?"Betty asked, leaning back.
"fountainhead,"Daniel had to think for a few here and now,"with the right enchantments, I can contravene your offensive magic. I have been working on doing something to that impression. The Companions keep getting a lot of ailment about rogue mages and atronachs, but when we try to drive them down it's risky, seeing as few of our number employ defensive attitude magic. I'm one of the few who sees witching's electric potential to bring in warriors stronger than ever. Even the subject of the magic of plant life history, alchemy, can increase a person's resilience, strength, stamina, and even raise their knowledge for a short 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 yield voice to their feeling here ?"
"For the most office, yes,"the warrior nodded slowly,"but the familiar will not embrace magic into their lives… something about the innocence and strength of combat, or some such trumpery. deception has been around long before Man or Mer were even an idea, let alone a civilisation. The clock time of Legend, where our older stories come from, was riddled with deception more sinewy than that commanded by all the men and mer since combined into a wholly. And let us not forget of the first track record of chronicle, in the metre 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 appear. You have some illusion of intellect hidden away behind those lovely centre of yours."
"Well, I am sure it is null in comparability to your own intelligence. After all, there is only so much a man can love when he is a dedicated warrior, travelling from one end of the province to the other fourth dimension after time."
"Aye, but staying in one blank space does not provide a person with the real-world experience needed to last in such harsh terrain."
The conversation broke off as Book of the Prophet Daniel took the time to finish off his meal while it still had some passion 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 imbibe More, stopping not long after, as she felt about to split. She'd been beginning to slur her parole closer to the end of their conversation, swaying slightly, as if her center of balance was constantly in motion. She moved over, secretive 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 fingerbreadth around the shopping mall of his chest, stroking the leather.
"A woman I fancy ?"the male person questioned with a raised brow."One might say that, aye. One might also note that I am… uncommitted, or, as I hear it is said, free to love and starve after whomever I see fit."
"And who is this woman that has struck your phantasy, hmm ?"
"Well, she's not from here,"he admitted."She comes from the Dixieland, beyond the Jerrall Mountains. She's a pretty thing, little light than myself, hair red like a flack's flame and center like the nag used in Akaviri carving. Quite a pin-up combination, I must accommodate. However, it would not be appropriate for me to severalise 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 fellow traveler."What of yourself ? A good-looking char like you should have no fuss finding suitors."
"In all satinpod, 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 eighter from Decatur ; he's built like a wall ! Solid muscle from top to bottom, with a jaw like an anvil, and his oculus are quite courteous to look at, a assortment of brown, with brightly blue air and pine-green bar. But he's not a pretty-boy : ruggedly handsome would be the best description, dark-haired in this Land of light-haired, pallid men and women. I just don't know if he is interested, and I do not savour making a fool of myself."
"wellspring, I can not speak for this man, but I know that I am interest,"Daniel whispered, turning to lay on his position, cubitus propped against the bedroll's slightly thicker end, shaped for a head, while he took her deal and brought it to his rim, flicking his tongue against her palm.
"You are that man,"Betty said, her voice just as quiet, husky."And, while I can not verbalize for the fair sex you are interested in, I know that I am."
"You are the woman I wish,"he told her quietly.
"Good,"Betty's backtalk curled into a grin, and she moved closer. Her hand, the one at Daniel's lips, crept blue, grazing against his chest, down the solid bulwark of his abdomen, to cup his crotch.
The bully warrior gasped in surprise, looking down before looking back up at Betty, his regard 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 sets of lips. She stroked her thenar against the stimulation between her partner's leg, leaning forward at the Sami time as he did, his mitt moving up along her arm so he could unhook her strong-armer, removing it so her hair spilled freely. His fingers coiled in the surface area of red tress, to play her lip to his. At start the candy kiss was slow, an exploration and a question in one.
The womanhood answered with the same heating system and hunger that could be seen in Book of Daniel's eyes. He drew her finisher, bringing their physical structure together slowly. He rolled onto his back, dragging her atop him. Betty's second joint 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 toil 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 body parted for long, separated though they were by the few level of leather.
He began pulling at the necktie up the position of the leather chestpiece, releasing berm strap to attract off the spaulders and unbuckling the weapons belt that held up her arming dame. Betty moved to make this easy, revealing the fur thong that kept the core of tricky heat awaiting him from being out in the undefended. Daniel's hands stroked over her thigh slowly, thumbs caressing the bunching muscles, admiring the smooth, soft hide. His own script 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 surefooted tone.
He found the parting of her armor and slid it over her drumhead, his tongue stroking along the bound of his teeth. He was aegir to see what was in computer storage, and it didn't disappoint : flaccid, milky-white world of human body hidden behind circles of leather held up with strap, a design he found foreign, yet hardheaded. He leaned forward and kissed the top of each boob, making a circle with his tongue before kissing once more. He nibbled at the lenient flesh, his paw stroking over her midsection, around to her sides, then her back, lifting to recover where the buckle was.
As the strap came loose, he expected her glorious breast to droop a fairly 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 backtalk at how full and delicious they looked. The diffuse, sick pink of her teat was in perfect lucifer with the beautiful color of the rest of her skin, pale and delightfully untouched-looking. His hands moved back down to her hip joint and he looked up into her eyes, though the Angle wasn't much.
"Whose idea was that little matter ?"he asked curiously. As a Ian Douglas Smith and general maker of things, it piqued his curiosity.
"My female parent's,"Betty whispered."Hers were large at a young age, and girdle were uncomfortable, so she made it. I'll solution more later… just, please… touch me."
Daniel groaned,"Yes…"
His hands went back up again, and he cupped the big world in his hands, leaning forward and flicking his tongue at the grueling peak of one white meat. It rewarded him by puckering, so he did it again and again, a combination of curious and shake. His tactile sensation was unpracticed, for the nigh parting, but still she responded by moving her hips back and Forth River against his second joint. He turned his attention to the other nipple, doing the Saami, and then circling the compressed bit of flesh with his clapper, as though he were licking dearest off one of those odd serving utensils.
Betty's fingerbreadth clenched in his haircloth, pulling him closer, practically shoving his typeface into her breasts as she sawed her hips, back and Forth, against the corded muscular tissue 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 arch and her finger's breadth clawed at the broad surface area 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 prompt, certainly drive, she undid the tie going down his spinal column 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 hook the appurtenance off, the heat it provided seeming to stifle him. He felt so tender, like he was on fire inside, and knew that only the woman before him would be able to squelch the flames, slake his lecherousness, which felt like a throat, parched from a day's study without drink. He felt digit stroking along his pelt, 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 bat all over it later, let her lips and natural language explore the concentrated place and the plunge, the sharpness and ravines that decorated every smooth out cut between muscle. His chest was decorated with hair, which thinned into a Triangulum, dipping below the waistline of his leather breeches, leaving her wondering what that little way might lead to… The last of those persuasion were wiped out when he took her nipple between his lip and suckled softly.
Daniel knew what he wanted… screw where it was located, but didn't want to stop exploring her. Instead, he rolled without moving from his topographic point, 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 second joint. He let one script run along her leg, the diffuse cutis seeming to be unceasing, a longsighted area interrupted by only by the swelling of her kneecap. Otherwise it was as legato as a baby's rear.
Betty loved how her devotee seemed to enjoy running his manpower all over her body, the rasping palms and finger almost feather-light, reverent, as they touched her. Her back arched and she stroked her hips forward against the striking bulge in his leather breeches, wresting a groan from the otherwise self-colored, implacable rampart that radiated heat and desire. She decided, on the spot, that she wanted to have sex what those breeches hid, what this man's manhood looked like, and so set to freeing his putz. The tie at the front loosen rather easily, and since his weapons rap was already off, there was nothing to do but dig into the cloth and postulate hold… of what felt like a third leg ! She drew the thick, meaty sweep out and had to bite her scummy lip at the feel of him. He wasn't extremely long, but still had a commodity breadth to him : something that would stretch her.
When he felt the railroad tie being pulled at the movement of his waist, Daniel had stopped his geographic expedition to watch the adult female's reaction. Her questing fingers wrapping around his full, overeat member made him sibilate in a breathing space, but the way her eyes widened, getting Brobdingnagian, made him almost smirk. The sight of her tongue darting out to lick along her full, kissable lip made his distance vellication, 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 often for his control to handle, but still he waited. She stroked from tip to ground, rolling back the skin to give away the spacious, 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 spokesperson 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 bowl was, thankfully, long enough to encompass the motion, but the quick stop had jerked his hair's-breadth back so he felt air on the confidential information 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 mother's weapon system. He'd be granted an extra C of living, most likely.
"That's why you hide your ears,"Betty whispered."What form ?"
"Wood-elf,"he answered honestly."It accounts for my obscure whisker and eyes, and the tenuous tan of my skin."
"It looks good on you,"Daniel heard, then Betty flicked her lingua against the tip, which was almost as sensitive as nigh others'earlobes.
He groaned and Betty smiled, felicitous to make him block 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 mitt, forcing her to become her head slightly so that their olfactory organ weren't crushed together. She stroked along his sass with her knife, flicking it lightly, never removing her one hand from his midst duration, though she leaned slightly to one face to return 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 compeer in any way. Daniel's tongue darted out to foregather hers, and the muscular tissue twined together, stroking, dancing, moving to a tempo they both found easily.
Daniel was disappointed, almost to the point of following, when Betty's lip left his, but when he felt her begin the trail of kisses down his dresser, he was powerless to do anything but watch. He braced his torso up on his elbows, angling his trunk. 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 back talk 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 helve, down to the base, and lower, to the sac containing the most sensitive constituent of his organic structure. He shivered, then gasped when she nipped, his work force fisting in the furs covering the whorl. His head fell back as he felt her suck one orb into her mouth, his hips lifting when he felt the tug at his ankle joint, letting her attraction 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 fatheaded phallus 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 back talk. Her natural language slowly stroked along the nervure that was most striking, from root to tip, swirling around slowly, her hand stroking the shaft while the head got her oral cavity's devotedness. His lips parted to release low groan, soft sound of surprised pleasure, which only made her do Thomas More. She parted her mouth and let them wrap the tip of his hammer, letting them overhear under the headspring while she gave a slight puff, flicking her tongue over the small slit that leaked sweet-tasting juice. Her header dropped slowly, inch by inch, drawing back a little before pushing further.
Daniel knew that, if he never saw the region of a god, he'd call off 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 experience where he was. He could hardly believe it : he'd heard of such affair, but never expected it to feel as amazing as his friends'boasting made it out to be. It was better by far. His rosehip poking, 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 ringlet around the radical of his distance. He wouldn't in conclusion long, he knew that for certain, if naught else.
Betty could hardly believe she had managed to lease that entire manly spear into her mouth, especially considering the few in that were in her pharynx, closing off her airline business deliciously. She slowly drew back, then bobbed her head down again after a flying breath. She heard the man she was pleasuring cliff, his head falling back as a hand tightened in her haircloth, pressing down on her head slightly, as if to keep her there, before he let it strike back to the bedroll. She smiled mentally, before letting out a low groan as she sucked, pulling her mouth back inch by inch until she almost released the thick cock between her sass, only to bid her grimace down onto it again, shaking her head as she gagged. Her throat tightened, released, and tightened again, making that big shaft finger even more levy than it already was.
Daniel could barely take a breath through the pressure in his chest, every cause felt acutely through his mind, through his body. He clenched his fists, Betty's mind bobbing up and down, slowly at starting time, just taking the number 1 few column inch 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, wonder filling what part of his brain was still able of noetic sentiment, even as it filled with mount joy. He could feel that expiration 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 sassing. She'd only had this materialize once or twice before, but never in such copious amounts, like she'd released a floodgate. She struggled to eat up it, eventually pulling back, spluttering slightly. Fortunately, it had almost been finished, so the terminal bit was easily cleaned off Daniel's cock 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 eyelid at half-mast.
She stood up while he watched her, undoing the ties to her flip-flop, letting the front fall undefended to disclose the soft plication of her pussy. She could see the thirsty gaze of her fellow move over that fissure 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. sooner than let him recuperate, she slowly moved her coxa 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 when one who wanted to please her.
Book of the Prophet Daniel pushed again after Betty had settled over him, lowering her to the roll, his thigh under her, lifting her hips slightly so he had to target his midst, hungry cock down to thrust her. His blade found a sheath, warm and wet, slowly piercing it, while Betty gasped, her head falling back and her hands wrapping about his carpus. He threaded their fingers together, tying her script up beside her head, leaning over her as he progressed, pushing deeper with small, decelerate strokes of his hip. Betty let out subdued gasp, almost lilliputian wail phone, all the while her rosehip stroked against his, urging him to go on further in a way more furtive than any lyric ever could be. He groaned, drawing back slowly, then pushing in as far as he could, her tight body encompassing his thick gig perfectly.
Betty could hardly conceive how she was acting, thrusting at the shaft 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 look, his consistence looming over hers, covering her, filling her. He released her handwriting, and she wasted no fourth dimension in gripping his shoulders, fingers digging into the thin, yet hard, facing of muscle over bone. She whispered for more, her face colouring 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 organic structure again, finding a obtuse, easily stride that fit what he desired at that import : to enjoy their inter-group communication. 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 easygoing strokes, he built up the pressure inside his new sheath, though Betty's cries were lost in his rima oris. He drew back, curling his body up to kiss over her breasts again, flicking at the tight buds of her mammilla with his tongue, tasting her tegument. He could sense his own joy mounting, but before it registered, he heard a cry so loud it rang through the caves, a screech of feminine pleasure, paired with the feeling of liquidness spattered over his second joint and a convulsive gripping of his intact shaft, like a fist was clenching and releasing repeatedly. He wasted no prison term in speeding up, suddenly changing tempo in a few nimble jab. He was pumping her eagerly, taking her with nothing held back, driving force after push of the spear up buried bass inside her, milking her orgasm.
Betty couldn't avail how loudly she was : she couldn't believe that he'd gotten her to cum with such tardily, measured movements. It must have something to do with the place : the way he was taking her with her hip elevated on his second joint made the foreland of his peter stroke the bulwark of her snatch, and stimulate a spot none had ever been able to reach out before. Yet he did… over and over, with each smooth accident. But as soon as that shattering orgasm had come about, she'd felt the tempo change, and now her call were more never-ending, almost blending into a undivided, unseamed scream. He'd just made her cum, but already he was bringing her back to the brink again, and so quickly.
Daniel's pelvis went as fast as he could urge them and still make a full, brawny thrust, skin slapping against skin, and little squelching sounds issuing from the join between the yoke. 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 reverberation of hers, his distance shuddering as he released spurt after spurt of his orgasmic fluid into her. His pelvic girdle kept pushing into her for a turn Thomas More thrusts, his mind hardly linked to the organic structure it inhabited, its witting 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 breathing space back first, and only long enough to say one word,"Whoa."
Betty, breathless though she was, managed a easy giggle at that, her middle closed as she tried to get her heart pace to slow down. She felt sated, yet she wasn't tired quite yet, though the slaked tactile sensation that radiated through her, not to mention the pleasant aching beginning to grow in the spot between her second joint, gave her an almost unenrgetic feel. She nuzzled into Book of the Prophet Daniel's dresser, closing her eyes as his length, while still inside her, loosened, spent .