reznikolai | I N B O X

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NIKOLAI LANTSOV

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[Most days, Konoha kind of enjoyed how synchrony, even the simple, platonic sort, could make clearer what someone was feeling. In only the way an honest woman could, she liked being able to make herself clearer (not to mention how incredibly rousing it could be during more intimate moments, to just sense things from a partner like that), but right now...

Maybe right now it wasn't the best idea, because before he retracts his hands the only thing she's broadcasting is heat. Heavy, frustrating, untended, unmollified by her "assistant"... heat. Everything else was easily lost beneath.

And she knows she shouldn't look. She does, even if the true reason she shouldn't is lost with the other drunken memories of Marilla. She tries looking at her hands around the teacup, but it's hard not to let her eyes dart over there (down there, then more down there), to betray her thoughts further with a sharp canine digging in to her bottom lip.]

I'm sorry, ah... you really should have let me...

[She forgets to say "deliver your shirt" somehow. Weird.

At this rate, though, she's going to crush the teacup in between her hands, and so she concentrates on just... getting that to the table. Sit there, teacup...]

I guess dragons can't really... be with human women very well, can they... ? Th- that makes sense...

[Something that shouldn't be any of her business. Sometime that a proper woman shouldn't imply aloud, even though she tries her best to make it sound like a joke, look at her, she's so evolved that she can make ribald jokes with a sea captain...

Who is reminding her very strongly in this moment that the man who had agreed to help her tamp down her breeding season instincts had left this world. That her roommate wasn't a centaur any longer. That her husband certainly wasn't here. That... she'd grown used to not having to weather the whole thing by herself anymore, and in a place like this...]

[He can feel Konoha's eyes on him, her gaze pressing into his skin with the same weight and heat as touch, as she says you should have let me. For a wild breath of a moment, his imagination runs unimpeded by reason, chasing after what she could mean. He remembers her palm pressed to the front of his trousers, fingers teasing his cock through the fabric, breath puffing hot against his hair. A stab of desire jolts through him.

Much like when one missteps and turns his ankle, and so proceeds with heightened care thereafter, this sudden jolt is also what returns Nikolai to his senses. Of course Konoha must be referring to how she'd offered to deliver his shirt to his house. Only...calming his imagination is well and good, but his body has already gone and bucked his cool control. Not a full mast situation, mind you, but noticeable given his, ah, generous endowment.

Right, he should...sit down. He's lingered too long at her side now, hand idly leaning on the edge of the table. With great care Nikolai takes his seat at the adjacent side of the table, attempting (in vain) to arrange himself in such a way that his burgeoning arousal isn't so obvious. To answer her, he renews his grin.]

Let's just say I've had to get creative this week.

[If his hostess has given ribald comments her blessing, then so be it. Speaking of anatomical challenges...he considers her over another bite of pheasant. Konoha would have a difficult time with a human lover, wouldn't she? It's not that this realization hasn't ever struck him before, but at this moment it feels particularly sharp. It must be a deep kind of loneliness, being the only of her kind here. She has her centaur housemate, but—]

You must know something about that, though...?

[Even as he says it, he isn't sure if he's joking or flirting or...what. A protective urge seizes him. He recognizes it as the dragon's instincts, but that doesn't make it any easier to tamp down.]

[Perhaps predictably, perhaps ironically… their minds momentarily have gone to the sand place. He should have let her, she says, and while she surely meant deliver his shirt, what her body means is take care of him. Oh, it would be so easy to touch him like that, and practically an act of mercy, surely, to use the fingers now more adept at such things to undo his trousers, release him into the care of her hands, her lips, her breasts-

Ah. No. He sat… He sat down. Right.

She actually has to shake her head to dislodge the lewd thoughts, her throat taut as she disciplines herself. But though Nikolai can sit and somewhat hide the sudden stiffening that Konoha had definitely caught sight of… there’s no hiding the way her tail twitches, arching upwards in a way that, were she not wearing that draped fabric, would already be threatening to expose far more delicate parts.]

Creative… Of course…

[She has to pull herself back on track, but surely it’s not… It isn’t her fault that back on track was a bit flirtatious seeming now, was it? After all, it was just conversation that. Happened to be the sort one could have with a sea captain! Or just any open-minded male friend maybe… ! There’s no preventing the blush that ruddies her cheeks to reply out loud to his insinuation, but even though she clearly had the option to try steering the conversation in a different direction…]

Ah… I suppose I do… It’s almost all humans here, and even Chiron is human-shaped now…

[Magic, don’t ask… But what it meant for her…]

I mean- I’m not complaining! You’re- Humans are just fine! It all… It all works out if we try hard…

[It just… for very obvious reasons took a bit more effort to receive the same pleasures. There was no way a human could provide her with the same sort of deep, dominating cover as a stallion of her own kind, and even worse than that, the difference in forms meant that to have them attending to one thing meant losing the touch of them elsewhere, she hated that…

Her fingertips press anxiously around the tea cup, her tail twitches again, as she steals a look at Nikolai as subtly as she can, her rambling tone taking her… maybe where she surely hadn’t intended, surely it was too much to pretend to be joking anymore, but…]

Size is only a problem when… I’m in heat…

[Nikolai sets his mind to eating, as if it's a complex task that requires his undivided attention. He pretends that nothing is out of the ordinary. He isn't aching softly with arousal at the table. He doesn't notice her tail lifting, her body's way of begging for touch, and that doesn't send desire pulsing through his blood. His heart is not hammering in his chest.

As Konoha rambles on, that protective urge growling somewhere deep inside amplifies in pitch. It unfurls, much like his wings right now. With a flex of his shoulders, his leathery wings spread wide without any input from him. An instinct, perhaps, to make himself appear larger. Capable of shielding her.]

I could help you.

[The words are out before he's even thought about what he means by them. It's the draconic instinct beating underneath his skin, heightening his perpetual desire to be useful, to solve problems, to be the one to set it right. It's his old loneliness, mirrored in Konoha. Here without her husband. Here with breeding heat and nobody to turn to. His whole being aches for her in this moment.

Nikolai's hand returns to hers, covering where it curves around the tea cup. His expression is as earnest as his voice.]

Let me... [He never stumbles over his words, but he does now. They're coming up faster than he can think better of them.] Let me take care of you, Konoha.

[Konoha did appreciate a man who wouldn't waste food. She should be doing the same, and yet suddenly she is just all too aware of how technology in Sumarlok made it easier to keep dinner fresh. She could reheat things in the "micro wave", she could store them in the "tupper wares", so actually, if she just left things right here-

Because how is she not supposed to notice when his wings suddenly unfurl? They were larger than she expected (the second thing that was) seeing them folded nearly against his back, and though he speaks...

It takes her a moment to realize what he'd actually said. Even though they'd almost done something more than just kissing, just a bit of touching, under the influence of those colorful powders during the Rag'n'boni festival... She had categorized that later as simply that. Something that wouldn't have happened otherwise. She was another man's wife, a child's mother, and perhaps more damning... a jinba, not a human woman. There were men who that meant little to and men who seemed very well aware, for better or largely for worse, and... she had considered Nikolai to belong to the latter.

So what is she supposed to say? Her body answers for her first. A noticeable shudder of desire that makes its way down her long spine. The way her tail twitches, the satchet of potpourri she'd tied to the dock in a futile attempt to hide the musky scent of her season bobbing along with it. His hand is right there on hers, and he's warm, and the little glow of synchrony is enough to potentially reveal how desperate she was.]

You would... ?

[Not just that, but how physically lonely she was in an empty bed she had grown used to sharing with a family, how ashamed that he might be smart enough to guess what she'd been doing before he arrived that made her late-]

Even if... Even if there's no weird powders around... ?

[... That's too specific, but. She thinks he'll know what she means. That there isn't that convenient excuse, something that the whole Gembonded population might encounter and understand as an explanation for a scandal, a sudden tryst.

There's a more important reason she should ask him if he's sure... but it's too far away, tucked into a forgotten corner of her mind that was hazy with Marillan drink and strange handfasting magic. Which left only her reason she shouldn't be doing this... but perhaps that reassurance could wait.

Until he answered her. Her fingers twitch on the cup, beneath his hands, betraying how badly she wants to make just the smallest turn of wrist to lace their fingers, enjoy the warmth he's offering... but she manages to hold herself back just enough to not. Not yet. Not until she was sure, no matter how badly she ached.]

[The difference in their species Nikolai considers as a distant afterthought. Although his awareness of the difficulties posed by their incongruous anatomy is heightened in this moment, as he considers her across the table and imagines how he would take care of her — it doesn't strike him as somehow wrong that they might couple. First and foremost they are a man and a woman. Besides, Konoha isn't the only one with a body out of the ordinary now...

There are, of course, so many other reasons why they should not proceed. Her husband and child. His...whatever he has made here with Alina. But these scatter to his peripherals. The core of him is consumed by the dragon's wild instincts. Through him pulses a heartbeat that urges him to protect the woman in front of him from the ache of loneliness.

Konoha gives so much of herself to others, always worrying over everyone else's hurts while hiding her own. She deserves to be spoiled. She has earned the right to be greedy. And who better to provide for her than a man into whom is presently grafted a dragon's inclination for excess?]

Yes, I would.

[Mixing gentleness with firmness, he pries one of Konoha's hands from the tea cup she seems to clutch as if it would keep her afloat, save her from drowning. He pulls her hand toward him and brushes his lips over her knuckles. Without pulling away even an inch, he looks her in the eyes. His gaze is liquid gold.]

So let me.

[It almost sounds like a challenge.]

[There aren't many words that Konoha has to express how important it was to her that... people viewed her as a woman, and not a mare, not even a jinba woman. Obviously she knew that there were moments when it was unavoidable, there really was no helping it, but...

The ache of loneliness and gratitude for the offer shows as easily on her face as every emotion she'd ever felt when he takes her hand and her gaze follows, catching the near hypnotic glow of gold in his eyes. Let me, he says, but in the depth of her heats, which at times felt so all-consuming, so unquenchable in a way more bone-deep than the urges of other worlds... it feels like she should be the one asking him that. The swallow of nerves and reasons to say no is slow and obvious down the line of her throat, but what slips out when she opens her mouth is,]

- Please.

[If he was like this... maybe it would be enough to dampen the urges that had been keeping her restless and awake at night. Except no, she shouldn't be thinking of it like that, it wasn't fair to him, yet still... her voice slips out low, a bit shameful as she curls her fingers around his. Squeezes a moment before she twists her wrist to run her thumb over the line of his jaw.]

I had... an arrangement with someone... but they're gone, now, and- I can't... Even when I try to take care of it by myself...

[At its basest... it was uncomfortable, to burn with arousal for so long, aching without relief beyond the temporary measures of awkwardly attempting to tend to her own needs with a body not designed for self-pleasure and a lewd toy that provided pleasure but not the sensation of mating. And undeniable... was the more emotional truth that... she had grown accustomed to being held, to being able to kiss and embrace whenever she pleased, and now, here-

Here, Nikolai was right next to her, offering her relief, and she can't... She can't find (or remember) a reason to say "no". To stop her gaze from drifting downwards, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth and nipping down with sharp canines before she pulls back up, her tail swishing with a twitch that echoes in her fingers.]

But you have... to let me take care of you, too...

[After all... though the last time she had touched him they had been interrupted... She hadn't actually forgotten where they'd left off, either.]

[As delicious as the food she prepared is, Nikolai has all but forgotten it. The hunger now opening wide inside him is not the kind that can be sated with food. He notices Konoha's gaze falling into his lap and he grins crookedly. His previous mortification fades under the heat of his desire, now that they've reached an accord.]

You can look all you want. [He kisses the inside of her wrist now, eyes fluttering shut a moment.] And touch all you want too.

[He's here for her. To help her, to protect her. And dragons are greedy things, of course, so his imagination gobbles up her offer to take care of him in return. He remembers all too well where they left off that time underneath the trees...

Nikolai rises from his chair to close the distance between them. With Konoha seated on the floor, their heights are more evenly matched. Sliding his arms around her waist, he slots his chin with her shoulder — an echo of how he'd held her as he sat astride her back. He must lean in at an angle to accommodate her body — he can't stand directly behind her like he might with a human woman — but that hardly matters. Her body is warm against his. As his cock presses into her equine shoulder, hot and hard and aching, he sighs low in relief.

A press of his lips against her neck. A caress of his palm underneath the curve of her breast.]

Shall we go to the bed...?

[He leaves other possibilities open. She is the expert in what she needs, and whatever she demands, he will follow.]

[Konoha had always been taught not to waste food. Even in harsh winters, even that one year during the drought when she'd forced herself to live off watery rice gruel and chewed roots between meals to stave off hunger... she'd eaten everything she'd been given, no matter how off or foul. You didn't leave a single rice grain in the bowl, you shouldn't...

But she is more than willing to right now. Thank goodness this world had the micro waves and the tupperwares... because she's being told she could look all she wanted, and touch all she wanted, and in the midst of her heat... it's so easy to want.

And to shiver in anticipation when he moves to her side, presses against her from that slightly behind angle. She loved that, the sensation of lips pressed to her neck from behind. It summons a low, aching noise that makes her throat thrum beneath his kiss as her tongue slides over her bottom lip, double heartbeats stuttering just the same way it had at that festival, when they'd been far more colorful. To the bed, such a simultaneously gallant sounding and lewd combination of words, she should expect such sauciness from a ship's captain-]

I don't suppose you mind...

[Her voice finally finds its way out again in a husky whisper, one hand moving to slip down his abdomen until she hits his trousers and finds herself playing with the fastener.]

If it's less a bed and more hay... ?

[... It is actually hay. Well, a large, comfortable (to her) nest of soft reeds and hay supplemented with pillows and blankets.

Whatever the answer... She doesn't actually stay playing with the fastener. Not when she remembers, suddenly, so vividly, where they had left off when the powders wore off... and to take it one step farther than she had then, her hand wriggles into his trousers, eager to determine just how blessed he'd become in this draconic shape.]

[Suddenly, it's as if they never left that shady bower, as if the months between then and now have collapsed into mere minutes. His breath hitches as Konoha works open his trousers and oh so boldly slides her hand inside. His hips cant into her touch. She'll feel at once that he is not only longer but thicker too — and quickly growing stiffer under her exploring fingers.

His hand leaves her waist to trail along her sturdy forearm, down to where her wrist plunges into his pants. Looping a finger in one of the beltloops — unused, because with the extra fastenings in back for his draconic tail, there was quite enough to fuss with already — he tugs at the waistband just so.]

If I don't take these off soon, I may just get stuck.

[Which is...not a very romantic thing to say at all, but somehow his breathy laugh and the roll of his voice against her ear grant it a certain charm. He smothers her neck with another kiss and covers her breast with his palm.]

I can fill you with my cock wherever you like.

[How easily he slips into the filthy teasing that he's discovered he enjoys so much with Alina. His words sizzle especially hot through him now, igniting the possessiveness latent in his gem transformation.

Regardless of the more primal instincts racing through him at present, the prospect of quite literally tumbling in hay doesn't dim his desire at all. He'd slept on narrow cots and hard bedrolls in the army, and in a hammock aboard his ship — and he hadn't been in such...titillating company back then. With Konoha's hand still wedged in his trousers, Nikolai isn't about to move from this spot. But to encourage her onward to the bed, he tugs playfully at her waist.]

Edited 2021-07-20 05:29 (UTC)

[Back then… had it truly been that long ago? Back then, this is all she’d wanted to do. She’d been so close, too, just a single moment from slipping inside his trousers to finally feel the erection she’d been stroking over the fabric skin to skin. To doing as she lets herself now, sliding as far down as she can go before she’s blocked by the inseam of the pants. The way the air in her lungs stutters, the rising flush on her darker skin… even without them the sudden whip of her tail they would betray her. Beneath that tree, just off the beaten path of the festival revelry… he’d seemed quite gifted for a human man. Maybe even enough, she’d thought, that she wouldn’t need beg so hard for him to stimulate her with his hands in the midst of things in order to keep up with the pace of pleasure.

But now…

A wanting whimper slides off her tongue after the next kiss, an arch presses her breast into his palm, but what really makes her squirm is the words that spill from his mouth. She should have expected, perhaps, that despite how polite and well-spoken he was in public a sea captain would be equally well-versed in such lewd talk, but oh… oh she wants that, the image it conjures up. The toy she’d resorted to in attempt to quell her urges before his arrival had filled her, sure, but it wasn’t warm, wasn’t an actual man, wasn't able to leave her feeling full, wasn’t capable of saying such rousing things-]

Saying things like that…

[It might sound like it was supposed to be chastisement, but the look on Konoha’s face isn’t displeased at all, craning to fix him with a desire-hazy look as workworn fingers stroke over his cock, gentle (yet) despite their toughness. In fact, perhaps the synchrony building between them might give her away… but it was beyond rousing to her, to hear such things. … Things the like of which her husband would never say. Perhaps… because he wouldn’t. No, what she received from the man she’d given her hearts to was desperate growls of her name, whispered, delirious praise, deep rumbles of desire, her favorite three words to hear in the entire world, but this-

It makes it easier for her to remember who she’s with. Who has offered and deserved her attention now in this place where her bed was so often cold and her hearts so often lonely in days she didn’t like to admit. Reluctantly (with the tiniest hint of a soft squeeze to the testicles she’s found stuffed into his clothing) she pulls her hand from his trousers just long enough to haul herself back up to all four hooves, back legs mincing anxiously in their gait on account of the swelling arousal that made even simple friction almost maddening, nearly flicking him in the face with the tip of her rising tail as she turns her back to him in order to move towards the hay. If it were just her tail she could have played it cool… but after sitting, the wet smear on the fabric of the draped “skirt” she wears has grown, the hint of a glistening trail stains the bay coat of a back leg.

Leading by example, she lays herself down on her belly in the hay and blankets, back legs stretched out to the side and forelegs curled half-shyly to her lower chest in contrast to her shameless tail as she holds out her arms to him… or rather, just her hands. It isn’t an offer for an embrace or an attempt to drag him down into the hay with her just yet. From this position, their heights…]

We can’t have your… I won’t let you get stuck…

[Its harder for Konoha to say those filthy things, but she wants to try and meet him. She fails this time, but she wants to try, she does, cheeks ruddy and sharp canine nibbling on her lip as she curls her fingers in the air, beckoning again for his hips.]

But you have to tell me… how to get them off…

[She’s… we’ll she assumed she can do it on her own, honestly, somehow, but… she invites him to say more anyway in the hopes he might use even more of those scandalous phrases.

And the fact that she only just now had realized she’s never actually removed a human man’s strange fitted pants before???]

Edited 2021-07-20 13:39 (UTC)

[Despite Konoha's unfinished words, her whimper and the look on her face tell Nikolai everything he needs to know. She wants this. Not that this wasn't apparent before, but every confirmation of her desire stokes his own.

For her gentle squeeze, she earns a contented sigh hot against her collar. He slowly squeezes her tit in return, rolling the heft of it in his palm, remembering how she liked to be pinched. These little whispers of touch make him greedy for more. Each sound she makes, each favor she grants, is a piece of treasure added onto his pile.

As she turns to lead him to the bed, Nikolai's eyes catch on the damp streak marking her skirt-of-sorts. Her tail flashing in his face leaves her scent in its path. Half in a daze of impatience, he follows Konoha across the room. Reluctant to break contact with her, he shadows her side with his hand on her flank.

He ditches his shoes along the way — sorry, he's not in the habit of removing them at the door. As eager as he is to strip all the way down, to leave nothing impeding his body from hers...her offer intrigues him enough that when he finishes untucking his shirt, he goes no further. At her beckoning, he positions himself in the space bracketed by her hands. Nikolai grins, his gaze holding hers.]

Someone's eager to help...

[As he turns around to give her access to the back of his trousers, he deliberately lets her touch skim his hips, sending more sparks of manna sizzling through him. His own tail flicks back and forth as if growing tired of waiting. He throws a glance over his shoulder at her.]

There's another zipper above my tail. [Of the sort that might usually be found on a dress.] While you undo that...will you tell me what else you're eager for?

[Konoha's stumbling attempts at dirty talk were endearing. He is all too happy to encourage her down that path, hungry for the words she might say. Now that he is no longer resisting the urges pacing restlessly inside him, ready to pounce, it all feels so natural that he should be doing all of this with her.]

[Konoha has taken on quite a challenge for her first time attempting to fully get a man’s trousers off. Hakama she understood… untie the one knot, tug the ties loose, uncurl them… and they just dropped off. But in that moment, waiting for him to put his hips into reach of her eager hands, she can’t… some of her trysts in this world, the last, were hazy with sudden arousals or outside influence, but… No, she hasn’t ever, had she? In case they’d be caught or stumbled upon she’d only fished Liem’s cock from his pants (and then accidentally stained them, she still feels guilty about that- !), Chiron’s clothes disappeared with magic (literal magic, it was so useful yet silly), Estinien had removed his own, and so had Cardan, thank goodness, his seemed like painted on… oh no, wait, she had… ah, no, Venti’s weren’t trousers those were “tights”? Still- !

Going through the memories of the notches on her proverbial bed post trying to remember if she’d ever managed to pull off a man’s trousers leaves her even more red-faced than she had been, pulled back to reality with a flustered snap when his tail waves in front of her face. At least she wasn’t the only one with a traitor attached to their rump.]

What wife-

[She meant in general, a decent married woman of kind heart, but no, wait, it might sound different aloud, so she corrects to-]

Lady… wouldn’t help if… a man was having such a painful problem…

[Getting your erection stuck in your trousers? Not comfortable, not sexy… unlike the line of his hips, which she traces with her palms on the way to the zipper he points out for her, leaning close enough that she temporarily traps his tail between her breasts as if it were something else entirely, moving her fingers where directed. From here… when he can’t see her as well… it becomes a tiny bit easier to say lewd things. Like the little whisper of,]

I want… I want to see… how deep you’ll be able to get…

[Her breath wafts over scales, her fingers slide over the base of his tail in a caress before she finds the zipper and carefully tugs it down, parting the fabric and beginning to loosen it around his hips, begin to attempt and slide them downwards. (That’s how it went, surely-)]

It… if I want to end my heat quicker… It has to feel like…

[It’s scandalous to say, even to his… lower back. But she can justify it as just an explanation, pausing to press a kiss to his skin right where the tail began to form, a light nibble and drag of her tongue over scales as her own tail shudders beneath her “skirt”. It’s just an explanation-]

Like it’s enough… like I’ve been bred so well there’s no point to want anymore…

[Otherwise she’ll still be burning with discomfort and desire the next day, and the next, before the week ends and mercy was finally granted. But now, when he’s offering, when he’s right there and she can smell him so strongly, her hands carefully trying to remove his trousers…

Despite herself, at the very idea, at the possibility of that relief… a little whimper sips out against his scales.]

Edited 2021-07-23 10:38 (UTC)

[Nikolai feels the pull on his zipper as if it were part of his body, and a shiver of anticipation spreads up his spine. His back arches. His wings, which he had folded to walk beside her and present his back to her hands, stretch restlessly. If Konoha weren't already ducking her head, she might have found herself smacked by their leathery edges.

Her words sear into his mind tantalizing images of what awaits him once he joins her in bed. With his tail captured in her cleavage, it becomes easy to imagine her breasts cradling his cock, and from there her heated folds welcoming him. Her lips on his scaled skin, so close by the purple gem that allows him to feel every sensation so sharply and deeply, beg him to imagine her kisses pressed over every inch of him.

While she tugs his trousers down, Nikolai guides his cock free. As Konoha will soon discover, he has eschewed undergarments today. Not only does his tail pose an obstacle, but also...it seemed to him somewhat redundant, given that he would hang out of his boxers anyway. So once she coaxes his pants down far enough, she'll be treated to a spectacular view of his ass, impeded only partially by the spined dragon tail. He swiftly removes the whole garment, tossing it aside.]

When you take all of me inside of you...

[His voice bows low, rough at the edges with something wild. He turns now, reluctant to let her lips slip from his skin, but eager to see her reaction to his cock. Because that's what replaces Konoha's view: his dick, heavy with arousal, the head bowing toward her. It seems impossibly thick, improbably long in proportion to his human frame. A hassle for any human woman to contend with, but for a jinba mare...it poses no problem at all.

Nikolai cradles her cheek, sliding his hand into her hair and mussing it already. With a shift of his hips, he lets his cock tap gently, playfully, against her other cheek.]

...I hope that you'll want for nothing else.

[Her explanation of her heat, and the desperation it lights in her, only heightens his own need to help her. This surges through him as surely as his arousal, as maddening in its pitch and as unrelenting in its demands. He can do this. He cannot abandon her to suffer the ache of her loneliness, not when he's perfectly positioned to grant her relief.]

Edited 2021-07-26 03:08 (UTC)

[As embarrassing as it had been to say aloud… Konoha hadn’t been lying. The part of her brain ruled by instinct during the depths of her breeding cycle, the part she resisted if necessary but gladly gave into if around a partner she desired or at least trusted… She did want to see. She wanted to touch. She wanted to smell. She wanted to make sure he could grant her something similar to what her husband could, a stallion could, and when he turns around…

Ah.

It’s both bizarre and arousing all at once, in a way that makes her lips part in a silent gasp, her gaze undeniably fixated. With that size, but still no doubt not a jinba’s cock it was confusing to her senses, and yet… the low gravel in his voice and what he presents to her makes her shudder with desire, the ache in her nethers fairly throbbing with anticipation as she instinctively leans into the affectionate cradle of his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm and a little nip to his fingers. Words, words-]

I think… this will do…

[High praise, perhaps, from a woman used to being mounted by a man nearly twice her size and weight. Her voice is half distant, soft and almost hypnotized as she turns, then, from his palm to his member. It’s so close, brushing against her cheek with such a tantalizing scent, so how can she not press the next kiss there to the head of his cock, slow and worshipful as her eyes momentarily drift shut, as her tongue slides over heated flesh.

Another instinct, to open her mouth, but doing so reveals the sharp canines within that don’t seem to belong to either human or equine parts, and she remembers (thankfully for Nikolai) at the last moment that no, he smells mostly human still but she can only safely perform that sort of service on actual humans, with smaller sizes, and like this…]

Get comfortable…

[Whether for him that would be standing or sitting she isn’t sure, but Konoha doesn’t make it easy to pull away from her even with that prompting, fingers rising to almost prop his cock up with the very tips and hold him for her to press kisses down, little laps of tongue as if sampling what she’s being offered. But she could offer something else, something she knew from before he must like… and her other hand is moving to untie the pelt wrap she wears, loosen her robe to reveal glimpses of dark-skinned cleavage.

All the better to welcome him, to,]

And let me help… see how big you really are…

[Or rather… could get.]

[As she drinks in the sight of his cock, he drinks in her transfixed expression. He feels the shudder that ripples through her body echo in his own. This will do, she murmurs, and he basks in her approval. From any other woman this would amount to lackluster praise — teasing him, perhaps — but from a woman whose husband must be, quite literally, hung like a horse... Nikolai isn't usually quite so fixated on size, but with his heart and body bent on pleasuring Konoha thoroughly, well, it's a crucial factor.

When her mouth shifts to his cock, her kiss a blossom of heat against the velvet skin of his head, his fingers curl into her hair above the nape of her neck. His breath tangles in his throat for a second. Anticipation turns his exhales into whimpers as Konoha continues to sample him. Nikolai watches her through heavy-lidded eyes. His greed grows, a roaring thing deep inside his gut. His concerns narrow only to her, only to now.

So she has his undivided attention when she pulls her robe loose to tempt him with a glimpse of her breasts. His hands can remember how soft they were to hold, his mouth how sweet to kiss. His body remembers wanting hers on another afternoon. And on this afternoon, he bends to push her robe from her shoulders, letting the fabric gape wider.]

Ah, so you're greedy, Konoha...

[His voice carries the familiar teasing lilt. His hands are in her hair again, seeking whatever is tying her tresses up and teasing it loose.]

But I do like a challenge.

[Nikolai answers her invitation by sitting beside her on the bed of hay, mindful of positioning himself in such a way that he's accessible to her. Unable to resist touching her, he pulls her face down for a kiss, heavy and ripe. He plunges his hands into the parted front of her robe, reveling in the plumpness of her breasts. His own shirt is still on, buttoned up to his collarbone, but with so much else to occupy his mind and hands, it isn't exactly a priority.]

[Konoha swears she doesn’t care that much either, that she’d never be so crude as to select a partner based only on their lewdest possible physical feature, judging based solely on their size. After all, hadn’t she seemed more than willing to have him as he was meant to be, that faraway afternoon with crimson Rag’n’boni powders splashed on her dark skin? Hadn’t most all of her lovers in these strange, touch-driven worlds by rule of simple necessity been two-legged and human-sized? She knew better than most women, it could be argued, that size wasn’t everything, that effort and desire could conquer most physical discrepancies…

But in the depth of her more instinctive heat, craving for a male to prove his strength, to make her his, to fill her so well in more ways than one… Konoha can’t help but care, and as her kimono slides from her muscular shoulders, as her thick mane tumbles loose from its bun and his fingers send it down her back, all the way to her withers and framing her face in a far more mature way than her usual hairstyle… She can’t help but whine softly, as if his teasing accusation of greed wasn’t teasing at all, like she had to answer for her shamelessness.]

I know…

[She has to part from the cock she’s fallen into attending when he sits, temporarily breaking the primitive spell and bringing just a touch less haze to her eyes as she watches him arrange himself, her tail quivering and flicking as best it could beneath the tight confines of the skirt she’d hastily tied on after her attempts at self-pleasure had failed, the musky scent gradually growing stronger the more her arousal, leftover and new both, stains the fabric. But the moment he reaches for her, gives her permission to come back…

Her kiss is greedy, slowly losing to the need he’s offered to sate. The same prick of teeth from beneath that tree, softened as best she can with plush lips that taste faintly of him. A whimper slides off her tongue into his mouth when his hands delve into her half-off robe, as she shrugs out of the sleeves to make it more off, flexible upper spine dipping to press her breasts needily into his hands. She isn’t so painfully full as the first time they had touched, it’s been far too many months since she’s been separated from her daughter, but she hasn’t been able to let herself dry up fully, coaxing out a bit each night to keep herself able, no matter how lonely doing so made her feel, because to do otherwise… would be too much like giving up.]

Nikolai, please…

[It would be too much like accepting she was stuck here, like she’d lost the hope that maybe today, maybe tomorrow, she might be back where she belonged, with a husband who would hold her and a child who needed her. So though she isn’t as quick to spill over his fingers the telltale whimpers of sensitivity are still there, the mounting pressure making her shift this way, that, in discomfort and pleasure both until… ah. Just a bit, a hint of pale glistening on the tips of dusky nipples as her voice wavers, nearly lost between kisses.]

Stay here with me… until my heat dies down… make it…

[That’s the challenge. There’s a part of her brain that knows she shouldn’t ask him to stay, that unlike that festival day when she’d pled for the same, there was some reason she shouldn’t… but it’s lost to hand fasting memories and drink and Marilla, and though she’s reluctant to pull away from the kiss… alright, just one more moment. To replace her lips, a hand gently begins to stroke up and down his erection at a painfully slow, wondering pace, sighing with the promise of potential relief as she uses her other hand to drag up his chest, find the collar, undo the button-

Struggle with the button, her frustration a tiny whimper against his teeth. Struggle with the next… before she pulls her other hand up to help and just… accidentally rips it off in her haste. It’s almost laughably easy for a woman of her strength, and at this moment…

Konoha would gladly spend her afterglow sewing each button back onto his shirt rather than be denied the sight and touch of skin in this moment, be denied returning to teasing him to full mast, and so… She’s sorry to his shirt, but it’s coming off whether it wants to or not. All of her patience for foreign clothing had been used up on his trousers, and this close, with his scent right under her nose… ?

The buttons are asking for it.

But surely he’ll forgive the transgression once his shirt is hanging open… and she can sink into a low dip of upper body between her forelegs to move from kissing his mouth to kissing his chest, down, down, until she can press her lips to the tip of his cock again… and wrap her warm breasts snugly around his newfound girth, looking up for his approval with her cheeks flushed and soft pants of breath fluttering over the saliva she’s left on his skin.]

Edited 2021-07-27 06:25 (UTC)

[In answer to Konoha's desire to be claimed, to be filled, the dragon lurking in Nikolai's blood is eager to prove his strength. This bestial instinct rises as her scent swells around him. Not just inviting him to touch her, but demanding that he do so. In this way, although their bodies do not match, they fit each other like a key to a lock.

Nikolai grins into the kiss, lips breaking rhythm for just a beat, as she pushes her breasts into his attentive hands. Yes, he remembers their shape and weight, their give when he squeezes. When he brushes his thumbs over her nipples and teases circles around the tight buds, feels the warm beads of milk gathering on each, he remembers the sticky sweetness. The feeling of being so thoroughly taken care of in the bastion of her body.]

I'm not going anywhere, Konoha...

[An echo of words he'd said in the shade of those trees. As she draws away, he braces himself by leaning back on his hand. The other threads with her hair. With the heartbeat of a dragon pounding through him, he can't leave. This afternoon, Konoha is his to protect.

A slow groan unfolds from his throat as she strokes his shaft. Behind him, his wings rustle and his tail swipes across the blanket. Despite how...active he's been all week, his body is still so sensitive to every touch, as if it knows that it still needs more. Even now, he only grows harder in Konoha's hand.]

And this time nothing can interrupt us.

[Nikolai's hazel eyes glint mischievously, as if to tell her that even if her housemate comes by, he doesn't plan on stopping. That's his own playfulness emboldened by the draconic temperament that seizes him.

He can only laugh as she yanks open his shirt and several buttons go flying. There is something deeply appealing in her impatience... With his shirt now hanging open, she can see that his chest bears the same thin black scars as his hands. They look like cracks spreading out from an epicenter over his heart.

He doesn't have time to worry about how she might react to the disturbing appearance of his skin, because at once she's bending to kiss the head of his cock and...press her tits to his shaft, surrounding him with her soft warmth. The sight is a novel one. For a flash, somewhere in the dim of his thoughts, he realizes that Alina isn't exactly equipped to perform this act. In the next second, a pang of guilt that gets swallowed up in the heat of Konoha's mouth.]

Saints...

[If Konoha had not already seen the dark scars that marred the veins of his hands, the way they traveled up his arms towards his chest (though that memory was hazier, why had she seen tha… shirts, right, the shirt)… but she can’t even appreciate the irony of his visit being to reclaim one while she has just carelessly damaged another.

He’ll have to come again to retrieve it once she’s sewn the buttons back on. That, or stay a bit to bask in what they’ve done as she hums softly to herself, needle passing through cloth and rhythmically tugging thread to purpose. Either one… She doesn’t mind. So she doesn’t feel that guilty at all. She’s too hungry for that.]

Nothing will… Don't worry…

[It’s intended as reassurance, but the words are made rousing by the far too gone tone in her voice, the way she punctuates each part of the phrase with its own kiss, a flutter of dark eyelashes and a wanting hum. There might be room enough in that bed of hay and blankets for two centaurs, but it hasn’t held that for what seemed like ages now. Not a month after he’d agreed to help her with her heats her roommate had lost his true shape to that of a human, been forced to admit that he’d been concealing his status as a magical being from her—- one that didn’t need to eat, to rest, to sleep. Without the need to keep up the ruse, she fell asleep alone now, save for the one day a week she made him remain over night as “punishment” for his lies. But that was days ago, and the next days hence, so today… no one else would set foot in the barn until morning.

And for once, Konoha thinks: good… and devotes herself to the task before her.

A part of her, not yet remembered, knows that there was another woman in this equation, knows that she surely couldn’t manage this… and wouldn’t that make it exciting? Wasn’t she quite curious to be treated to something her own husband couldn’t manage? It was just a foray into newness, a sample of another life, and this time… it comes with Konoha whimpering softly with both relief and desire as she uses her hands to press her breasts around the base of his cock, fingers sinking into soft fullness before slipping gently over sensitive tips, coating skin with that sweet warmth before ever so lewdly… making use of it to pump up and down his erection smoother, easing her path with pale lubricant and punctuating each pass with a careful nibble, an affectionate kiss, or a wet swirl of tongue, torn between closing her eyes as if sampling a treat she’s been longing for or looking up at him with eyes hazy with lust. Yet despite how intently she takes to him, reveling in how her tail wasn’t the only trailer, she can hear his whipping about in the straw…]

Even if it feels good… Don’t cum, Nikolai…

[Her voice slips out over the head of the cock she’s intently coaxing to full mast, the peak of his gem-granted prowess… but the teasing tone has been replaced by something far more primitive, far more needy.]

Not until you’re inside me.

[But she isn’t making it easy to wait. Not when she gives him another eager squeeze between dark breasts, arching up until just the very tip of him was visible between her cleavage before pressing back down to nestle at the base and allow her to pepper the underside of his cock with kisses and drags of tongue along the way.]

[What kind of a man can fret over buttons when a woman is looking up at him like that? Teasing him with salacious words as she lavishes attention on his cock, mouth and hands and breasts working together to push him to dizzying heights...

Nikolai's whole being hums with a sort of happy tumult. Not just his tail swishing against the bed — his fingers curling in the loose waves of her hair and in the blanket beneath him, his hips rocking into the rhythm she has set and his head tilting back to reward her with a groan unfurling from deep in his chest.]

Not until I've made you come.

[The crooked grin he casts down on Konoha radiates confidence. Despite the frenzy of his more bestial instincts pushing and pulling at him, he intends to savor this. There is no red powder turning his head. What drives him lurks much deeper, not merely smeared across his skin but entwined with his sinews. Not a matchstick, but a steady fire methodically chewing its way through the kindling.

He untangles his hand from her hair to push the dark locks back from her face, watching her intently as she works for him. He drops his touch to her breast where it rests at the base of his cock, gently pinching the nipple. Pleasure hums in his throat. Even as he enjoys the slow friction of her milk-slick tits and the heated caresses of her mouth, he's already imagining himself inside of her. How would she show her appreciation when he takes care of her in all the ways her body craves?]

[Why does she love it so much, hearing that sort of happy, satisfied sound coming from a man sharing her bed (hay)? She can't help but look for that validation, find herself warm not just physically, but emotionally, to the proof that they were enjoying themself, that what she was doing... was doing things to them. Not that she couldn't tell with how hard his cock has grown between her breasts and beneath the reverent pressure of lips and tongue, but there was something about sound.

And scent, when she was in the depths of her heat like this, reveling in how much he smelled like man, mingling with her sweet hints of milk and earthy musk in the air to create an intoxicating haze. For a moment she just nuzzles into the fingers in her hair, presses her breasts tigher around his cock and lets him thrust up into the warm sheath she provides, just a fraction of what she'd be able to offer him elsewhere. He sounds so sure when he says that, that he'll provide for her first, that she can't help but sigh in desire.]

I want that...

[So, so bad. As his touch moves from her hair down she nips after his fingers along the way, teeth clicking audibly when he pinches in just the right way to make her whimper and squirm, wetting his fingers, a bit of inner thigh, with another little spill of wasted love. Her breath skitters out warm over the mess of milk and saliva she's left on his cock, panting with desire as she tries to summon the words to clarify,]

I want you to...

[Not just that, not from anyone, she wanted... No, her husband wasn't here, so she wanted him to do that. Her hindquarters keep shifting, unable to get comfortable as her tail flicks, as arousal she stokes by pleasing him continues to swell and stain the fabric of her "skirt", and now... He's properly erect, no amount of spoiling would make him stiffer, and her gaze drifts up to his face, her tongue slipping over her bottom lip to taste him there before she swallows eagerly, gives a last squeeze of tender bosom around him before she lets her hands move back to the straw and blanket-covered ground, prop her upper half up at a better angle to ask for a kiss. For more than a kiss, a little "please" whispered between.]

[Their shared anticipation is a palpable thing in the air around them. He can feel it prickling under his skin and singing in his blood. Her whisper of please burrows into him and his heart curls around it like a dragon's serpentine body around its hoard. Nikolai has always possessed this hunger for affection, this need to be wanted and necessary and whatever else would keep people by his side. The dragon now enmeshed with his being only exacerbates this need, drags it to the surface and breathes new life into its lungs.

So he kisses Konoha in the way one breathes air, steady and without surcease. He leans into her, shifting onto his knees for better leverage, heels folded under his seat. He holds her face in both hands.]

Let me...

[Murmuring, spilling the words against her lips. Echoes of the declaration that led them here to this bed. He turns his head from her lips only to lick the dribble of her milk from his fingertips.]

Let me treat you... [Kissing one corner of her mouth, then the other.] ...The way you deserve.

[His hands fan over the sides of her neck and follow the slope of her strong shoulders, pushing her loosened kimono the rest of the way off. Half of his mind is on the skirt tied over her rump, but that would come in its own turn. Through touch he surveys her full breasts, her hard muscles blending into equine breast. He strokes her fine coat, coasting over her equine shoulders, to reassure her that he isn't afraid of the less familiar parts of her body. His eyes find hers again.]

How should we...?

[A soft laugh curls his lip. He might need some instruction here...]

[It wasn’t just her sense of sound or smell that were enhanced (or rather, lewdly refocused) in the midst of a rut. The absolute lack of hesitation between her little plea and that kiss, deep and all consuming, would have been enough on its own, but with the taste of him mingling twofold on her tongue Konoha can’t help but moan low and drawn out into his lips, left breathless and just a bit dizzy when he pulls away to take her face in his hands. Her bosom as well as the barrel of her lower chest expand in shallow flutters for breath, excitement both physical and emotional knocking around her hearts so carelessly she feels for a moment that they might burst. the way she deserved…

She wanted that so badly. To be taken care of with love. To take care of someone else and gift her wasted affection into their open hands. Yet her husband isn’t here, she sleeps and wakes alone without the person she loved more than anything, and only when she’s like this can she justify letting herself be another man’s woman, just for a few fleeting moments, let herself-]

Thank you…

[For agreeing to help her in the first place. For giving her words like that. For touching her like that, as if she were a whole woman and not half of one. It’s so quiet it might not even have existed at all, more an exhale of a sigh than two grateful words, because she doesn’t… No, she doesn’t want him to say “you’re welcome” or tell her she needn’t say it. It’s done, and she’d rather help him peel her kimono properly from her body, revealing more contrasting planes of soft womanhood and hard muscle, the close-to-human-but-somehow-not-quite-right knit of hard muscles along her back and shoulders designed to support an entirely different structure and weight, the dark vestigial mane that traces up from her withers and bay coat halfway up her more human-looking spine before it fades away to only skin.

He laughs, and it’s a good laugh. Even if it makes her flush as if she could even pretend to be maidenly any longer, her own gaze moving back to her skirt-clad rump, the way her tail has formed a restlessly flicking lump beneath the fabric.]

Ah… from behind is probably easiest… I’ll stay down so you can reach…

[The logistics of interspecies mating was never without at least a touch of awkward, needed warnings and rearranging, but she shifts a bit in the hay and blankets, rearranges her back legs on either side of her body in a way that, were she just stripped bare of that last garment, meant she would be exposed and ready to be… well, mounted. It could still be mounting on her belly, she supposed, as her voice turns just a bit wistful, her upper half arching into each slide of his hand over slick breasts, soft coat, savoring it before-]

I will miss you up here, though…

[Sadly, there was nothing to be done for the difference in lengths between their bodies, even if a sudden difference in his girth promised to be more than pleasing to her heat-addled senses.

And as eager as she was for him to move back to where she even now throbbed for attention… she can’t help wrapping her arms around his neck for one last kiss, tender and wanting in a heady mix, long enough to last her through losing the ability to hold him once he moved down her flank.]

[Nikolai understands that he isn't meant to answer her thanks. It's simply meant to patter in the space between them like their heartbeats.

As Konoha pulls him in for another kiss, he continues his exploration of her body, learning its unique landscape. His hand slides around her waist to pet the bit of mane bridging her lower spine with her equine half. His fingers trace her surprising muscles. He grins as their kiss concludes.]

I will come back eventually... [Ducking his head, he presses a kiss to Konoha's neck, grazes his teeth against her skin. His words reverberate through her throat.] Not too soon, of course.

[He squeezes her breasts again to leave her something to savor, watching raptly as another splash of milk spills from each dusky nipple and runs in twin rivulets over her skin.

For all the power of his brilliant mind, if asked, he could not explain the poignant appeal of her mother's milk. It's a reminder of her loneliness, the things she has left behind, which he cannot possibly comprehend as a bachelor — but Nikolai understands loneliness, even if hers is a different shape from the loneliness he has inhabited all his life. And now, with the instincts of a dragon coiled around him — her milk, hinting at the soft parts cradled within her resilient heart, becomes a reminder of why he needs to protect her. Why she needs him.

His hands fall away from her front, his mouth leaves her neck. He reaches behind his neck to pop open the last buttons holding his shirt together. Impatient with the added complications of dragon-appendage-friendly clothing, he yanks his shirt off and flings it somewhere off the bed. Now with nothing decorating his body but the shimmering teal scales scattered in patches over his scarred skin, he peels himself away and shifts on the bed to position himself behind her.

She looks good like this, ready to receive him. His cock throbs with want. As he finds the ties of her skirt, his eyes flick up the length of Konoha's body to pin her with a mischievous smile. Teasing her, Nikolai presses his length against her so that she can feel his hard heat through the last stretch of fabric defending (in vain) her modesty. He loosens her skirt with a determined tug, pulling it aside. Her tail pops free, tickling his chest with silky hairs. Next, he removes the little sachet of potpourri fastened to the dock of her tail. There's no need for her to disguise the sharp scent of her desire.

He pauses a moment, poised on his knees like a penitent with his hands placed on either side of her rump, to observe, ah, what he has to work with. He swipes his knuckles — mindful of his dragon's claws — over her entrance to feel her slickness, to test the soft give of her folds.]

Are you ready for me?

[He knows she is, but he wants to hear her say it.]

[How is she supposed to do anything but squirm when his fingers brush through her mane like that, a quiver traveling down her long spine all the way to the tip of her tail in a reaction much like any woman might make if a man ran his fingers through her hair. Just... not on top of her head. A shoulder rises in half-ticklish response to the lips brushing against her neck, but her little laugh is tinged with a soft moan that rolls off her tongue, not just at the promise of his return but for the last squeeze of his hand, the accompanying release of pale milk that stains her dark breast and his strangely veined hands.

The moment he moves away, one of her own hands moves to replace exactly where his had been, as if she might be able to preserve the sensation of his touch to last her through his absence. And even though it might should be strange, the way his scales glitter along his skin, his new proportions, their far different parts... it isn't his body she was looking at. Well, it was, in the midst of her heat like this it very much was, particularly between the legs and how that made her nethers clench with want, but... She's also looking at his face, the promise there and the sparkle in his eye, the parts that made her hearts clench instead.

She's far too easy to tease. All it takes is that press of his length against her skirt-clad rump to make her lashes flutter and her sharp canines dig anxiously into her bottom lip, a more prominent stain from her dripping nethers left behind on the fabric in the shape of his cock. Not for long, though, her tail is freed to flick and rise to bare her to him, and the potpourri was useless now, the scent well and truly overcome by the musky betrayal of her arousal.

An arousal that is far too obvious, far too shameful, but what can she do about it? She'd tried, she really had tried to tend to it herself, her helper in that attempt now hidden in her dresser once more, but now his hands are on her rump, her croup is instinctively levering upwards a bit to try and present the best possible angle for him to "mount", dark velvet outer folds clenching and flaring to expose how wet she was, how her dark bay coat was even darker on her thighs where she's grown sticky, how bright the contrast of fresh pink was to black.

Was she ready? Her lips part and only a whine comes out at first, her body grown greedy and desperate for more, but she had to answer...]

I've been ready for hours...

[No, not just hours. Konoha swallows in anticipation, her hand on her breast squeezing in mimicry of his with a little trickle of milk from between her fingers, the rest whispered with a shameless meeting of his eyes, her own hazy with a mix of lust and reassurance.]

For days, Nikolai...

[Days of growing heat. So if he would just... If he would just take her... Have her... Calm her... Breed her...]

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getting nsfw? get out while you can

you’ve been warned!!

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