(360)
art by crypsis
Slowly, his mind came back to him. It was in many ways like the aftermath of a battle; his vision cleared but his body remained ready, even now adjusting and compensating for what it believed needed done. Though his seed had already been spilled, the knot locking them together provided him with a formidable excuse not to leave her. He instead shifted himself up, gingerly, doing his best not to pull or tear because even though it felt good to be locked up inside of her, there was a lingering sensation of pain. This was so close to pleasure that he only recognized it out of this same subconscious thought, but even now the blood was being pulled back into his body.
The scent would always be one he remembered. It was a tangy, salty thing, heavy and thick and at odds with the switchgrass and clear river near them. Her scent was one he found incredible, and sought to show her this. Once he was upright, with her still mounted atop him, he stared into her pale eyes. A thousand things could have been said, a thousand promises and praises and songs, but he was an inexperienced man (a man now, without a doubt) and the tales he told were not suitable for her.
“Are you okay?” He whispered, and she nodded. The thick thing between his legs finally gave way minutes later, as they regarded each other in silence, while he kissed her and breathed in her hair. Only once he was free did he shift her down, half-guiding her onto her back. There, he held himself above her, studying her, taking in every detail. She was beautiful to him as no other woman had been. A low whining growl escaped him again and he lowered his mouth to her breasts, licked one, then the other, and trailed further to that damp heat that reeked of their combined sex juices.
His tongue reached out to her, tasting this place, and while it began as slow and languid exploration he was soon enthralled by the taste and smell and worked with a single-minded task. He was already hard again.
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