Date: 2022-08-19 04:02 pm (UTC)
Few can match Estinien in physicality -- the powerful thighs and the thick legs are mirrored in strong swordsman's arms and brawny chest with wide shoulders. Few could think to be the match for either of them, but here they finally find a good place.

Hearing Estinien make that noise again coaxes up a dry, throaty chuckle, and that smoke-roughened voice is soft but still audible.

"Ah, so you do like that, don't you, Wyrmblood?" The hand on his shoulder moves to tangle in his hair, just to keep a grip, a pressure but not a yank. The other moves beneath, to jerk that reviving erection as he thrusts. "Being a sheath for a blade-- or meat for the lance, if you prefer! A good-- fitting-- sheath!"

The words betray a ratcheting of tone, but he clamps down, teeth in his own lip until it he tastes the tang of his own blood in his mouth. A count of heart beats later, he thrusts through his climax, muffling a groan as best he can as he finally spills, emptying himself into Estinien and finishing with a soft sigh of contentment.


It's been a while, and that was good.
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A Musebox for Flying Squids

November 2022

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