a-quiet-glade:I gathered in the size of the creature in front of me, and knew that – alone a
a-quiet-glade: I gathered in the size of the creature in front of me, and knew that – alone as I was – the growing, gnawing hunger was writ large on my face. Shame, I’d decided, was for blushing brides. No more pretending. “Here now,” I beckoned, whispering softly. “I’m right here.” Ragged ears twitched at my words, and tight, coiled muscle and sinew worked beneath shaggy fur, carrying the terrible weight of the direhound forward. It sniffed the air, sightlessly questing for the source of my voice – useless eyes as white as its coat – and found the same cloying scent of desire filling its nose that had long since overtaken my own. I’d been more liberal with Bhoro’s concoction than was necessary, and one of the apprentices had commented on my new “perfume” before I’d left. If only he knew. I let the thought bring a smile to my lips as the hound padded forward, paws – each as large as my own hands – sinking a half-inch into the loam with every renewed step. I instinctively backpedaled away, a spike of apprehension clawing at my resolve, but found I could retreat no further. The trunk of an ancient elm rubbed and scratched at my naked back. I took a bracing breath. With a deliberate, inviting motion and my heart in my throat, I sat back with knees bent, legs tilted to either side – baring the place between my legs, presenting it to a beast that couldn’t see it. I was already sore from entertaining my fantasies for no small length of time the previous night, and I prayed dearly it wouldn’t sour the encounter that now – finally – was coming to pass. Bhoro had advised me to shave, and I began to glean why as my scent worked its way unobstructed into the direhound’s lungs, coaxing forth the inevitable from beneath its powerful, muscled hips. I gaped as it slid out into prominence, desperately wondering if I could accommodate the length – an answer, I supposed, I’d know soon enough. I clicked my tongue, beckoning once more, and rippling sinew strode over me until I could sink my fingers generously into the hound’s fur. The softness and heat of its body banished the night’s chill as I held it close, letting it suffuse me. Strengthen me. I adjusted my hips, sinking down so the tip of its length rested against me, then took a long, shuddering breath. Speaking the language of beasts, I told it what I wanted it to do to me. It obliged. -- source link
Tumblr Blog : a-quiet-glade-blog.tumblr.com