Chapter 44.5

For a moment, I rested my length against her sensitive and near steaming folds.  Ever so slowly, I dragged myself back, just watching her face.  Delighting in the little twitches of uncontrolled pleasure contorting her brow despite the comfort of my ability.  Savoring the growing anticipation mounting on her face.

Then we were aligned.  Yet still I teased her.  My cock drew little circles about her entrance, forcing an erratic little dance out of her hips as she sought to draw me in.

“P-please?”

Her plaintive cry drew my attention away from my game, and I looked up.  Her voice had been so thin.  With a tremulous little shake to it.  She was frightened, I realized.  Perhaps of what was to come.  Or that I might still deny her.

“Please?” she said again, when I did nothing.  And stronger this time.  Tears were beginning to stream from her eyes.

I felt another hand circle my leg, signaling that Arx had just managed her pilgrimage across the floor.  “Oh, that tastes wonderful.  Thank you, Dearest,” she whispered, one cheek resting against the side of my knee and a dreamy sort of expression over her features.

I had not really intended to make Lynnria beg and, now that she had, I felt a little bad about it.  Still, there were a lot of appetites in this room.  It was nice to be appreciated.

“You’re welcome,” I said, and as with Jax, I ran a finger over her spiraling horns, drawing a gasping note of pleasure from her.  They had grown a little overnight, and their curve had taken on an overall harp-like shape—with their tips just beginning to tilt upward.

She had grown into such an incredibly sexy woman since I had met her.  However, dwelling on that was unfair to Lynnria.  I did not want her to have to beg again.

It was time for the main event.

All through my teasing and play, I had been considering just how I wanted to approach this.  I had never been entrusted with crafting a woman’s first time before.  From what I had heard, many of them ended up as a disappointment.  Either their chosen partner was too inexperienced, too unskilled, or too selfish to make it memorable.

Well.  That, at least, was one statistic she would not have to worry about.

“Lynnria,” I said, trying to keep a straight face, “whatever else happens, just remember: keep breathing.”

Her eyes instantly lit with panic.  “Wha—?”

Then I was sliding inside of her.

I watched as her face transformed.  Not from pleasure, nor even comfort.  No, this I had decided was to be a moment of happiness.  A celebration.  An experience long remembered.  Lynnria’s face was one of sheer awe, her eyes and mouth hanging wide.  Tears flowed freely and unabated down her cheeks.  The corners of her lips tugged upward, and a ragged sob of joy stole from her lungs as I sank to my base.

There I held for a long handful of seconds, enjoying her expression almost as much as I was enjoying the sensations I was feeling.  Lynnria might not have been able to feed properly.  Nor did she yet have any trace of horns.  But her sex had awakened from the moment of my entry into a tool for extracting as much pleasure from a man as it possibly could.

It squeezed like a vise.  It undulated in waves.  It teased and taunted.  But it could not capture.  Not yet anyway.

A moment later, I began my first exodus.  In the wake of my manhood, I left a searing pleasure.  All three of the not-exactly-women cried out at the sudden change, Lynnria most of all.  Her face had transformed again, this time into one of shocked betrayal.  I had stolen her happiness away.

But she need not have worried.  I would give it back.  Again.  And again.

Happiness.  Then pleasure.  In and out.  Over and over.

Building.  And building.

Lynnria writhed and bucked underneath me as her excitement mounted.  Her eyes had gone vacant.  Mad with joy and desire.  What breaths she could manage came only as desperate gasps.

I had no idea how many times she climaxed.  Or indeed, whether she did anything but.  However for myself, I had yet to achieve the kind of resistance I might need to withstand a Dolilim for longer than a handful of minutes.

My own end came upon me before I knew it, inevitably stealing up my spine.  Somewhere along the way, I lost control of my ability.  All that was left was pleasure.  Then more pleasure.  Then still more.

Right as the tension reached the summit of the knife’s edge, Lynnria began to scream.  Jax joined her voice to hers.  Then Arx.  Together moaning a chorus of ecstasies.

Then I broke.  Pulse after pulse.  Emptying myself within her.

As the last spasms of release weakened my knees, I all but collapsed atop her.  For a moment, I just breathed.  Watching her.  The light of consciousness seemed to be just hanging on behind her eyes, so I decided to steal what remained of it in a kiss.

This time not to tease.  A proper kiss.

The moment I did, the world around me seemed to fall away, and I was surrounded by a vast desert.  A barren wasteland.  No hills nor mounds marred its surface.  Everything was flat to the very edges of the horizon.

But above me, clouds roiled and tumbled, dark and heavy with the coming storm.  A fierce wind picked up.  Eddies and currents of dirt twirled about my feet.  Running faster.  And faster.  Until it blasted my face, peppering me with sand and grit.

Lightning suddenly flashed before me, blinding me with its brilliance, and a shockwave hit my chest.  If I had truly existed within this place, I would have been thrown to the ground.  Yet even so, for some seconds all I could see was the spiky afterimage it had burned into my retinas.

Like a tree of light.

Then the rain came.  The world began to shake as life bloomed.  Streams flowed.  Mountains grew…

…And then someone knocked on the door.