06-05-2009, 03:33 AM
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500+
The warrior expelled a sigh as if in pain, but it was not with pain but with pleasure that she sighed, and it shuddered from her body as if in excess. For a brief moment, he was still, allowing that delightful pain that the sharp penetration had caused to subside. The silence was filled with their breathing and with their heartbeat, with their intertwined bodies. He kissed her shoulder softly, her breath quivering for it as she let her head fall back upon the softness of the bed. For that brief, single moment of stillness, she could have existed forever there in that complete embrace. Where before she had lain with him, allowing him to explore the physical pleasures of her body, now he moved to excite her, to invoke a quiet cry or a simple silence. And her body, filled with that fierce passion and with utter desire and love, shivered about his shaft. She squeezed lightly down upon it, holding him there within her until he moved within her once more, continuing the rhythm that both hearts begged for.
Her breaths and sighs were almost forced from her throat as she lay beneath him. His movements continued with a slow procession. With each withdrawal, her hips moved beneath him, involuntarily following his retreating form. And yet, his thighs held her beneath him, rendered immovable. That inability brought small cries to her lips that escaped her throat in golden tones, the euphoria that he had created in those movements irrepressible. Her head was pressed back into the sheets, her back against his arm, as his body rocked against hers, and her neck and breasts were bared to him. Her eyes closed against the world as she felt only him, those indescribable thrills setting fire to her blood. Her hands sought solidity from the bed that held their forms, as if the world about her had become a mere illusion relative the world this man created for her. And with each thrust, with each penetrating movement, he became a part of her. With each thrust, she became closer to him, their souls practically touching.
As the rhythm quickened, her hands moved to hold his body, those woad bound fingers pressed into the sinew of his torso. A quiet but sharp cry slid from her throat, as if in response to his uttered moan. He held her close as he continued to accelerate that rhythm, and her hands were permitted to cross over his back, her open palms pressing into his fur beneath his shoulder blades. With the stability of his body against hers, she did not resist, allowing him to control this spar of love. The woad bound maw pressed against his neck as his tongue caught her ear, turning her head to rest against the whole shoulder. And the world was filled with the melody of his heartbeat that sang wildly to her. Pressing her softer body against his unyielding body, she washed herself in him, becoming his and no body else’s. Then the muscles of the body that was held within the coyote’s arms tensed, as her back arched against him, her neck pressed over his shoulder with her maw upon the nape of his neck. The woman could feel it building up within her, as his thrusts grew swifter, her body unable to not respond as she shuddered against him. And then—
She let out that cry as if in pain, but it was not with pain but with pure, utter, ecstasy that she cried out. Her fingers dug into his back as the waves of the climax clamped down upon him, pulsing for him. And she had died that ‘little death’ for him. And she felt that pain within her heart because she loved him so much. Her body tried to relax, but she didn’t want to move away from him. And yet, she fell back within his arms, able to open her eyes and look upon him as she brushed her maw against his before she kissed him deeply and slowly.
^=^
500+
The warrior expelled a sigh as if in pain, but it was not with pain but with pleasure that she sighed, and it shuddered from her body as if in excess. For a brief moment, he was still, allowing that delightful pain that the sharp penetration had caused to subside. The silence was filled with their breathing and with their heartbeat, with their intertwined bodies. He kissed her shoulder softly, her breath quivering for it as she let her head fall back upon the softness of the bed. For that brief, single moment of stillness, she could have existed forever there in that complete embrace. Where before she had lain with him, allowing him to explore the physical pleasures of her body, now he moved to excite her, to invoke a quiet cry or a simple silence. And her body, filled with that fierce passion and with utter desire and love, shivered about his shaft. She squeezed lightly down upon it, holding him there within her until he moved within her once more, continuing the rhythm that both hearts begged for.
Her breaths and sighs were almost forced from her throat as she lay beneath him. His movements continued with a slow procession. With each withdrawal, her hips moved beneath him, involuntarily following his retreating form. And yet, his thighs held her beneath him, rendered immovable. That inability brought small cries to her lips that escaped her throat in golden tones, the euphoria that he had created in those movements irrepressible. Her head was pressed back into the sheets, her back against his arm, as his body rocked against hers, and her neck and breasts were bared to him. Her eyes closed against the world as she felt only him, those indescribable thrills setting fire to her blood. Her hands sought solidity from the bed that held their forms, as if the world about her had become a mere illusion relative the world this man created for her. And with each thrust, with each penetrating movement, he became a part of her. With each thrust, she became closer to him, their souls practically touching.
As the rhythm quickened, her hands moved to hold his body, those woad bound fingers pressed into the sinew of his torso. A quiet but sharp cry slid from her throat, as if in response to his uttered moan. He held her close as he continued to accelerate that rhythm, and her hands were permitted to cross over his back, her open palms pressing into his fur beneath his shoulder blades. With the stability of his body against hers, she did not resist, allowing him to control this spar of love. The woad bound maw pressed against his neck as his tongue caught her ear, turning her head to rest against the whole shoulder. And the world was filled with the melody of his heartbeat that sang wildly to her. Pressing her softer body against his unyielding body, she washed herself in him, becoming his and no body else’s. Then the muscles of the body that was held within the coyote’s arms tensed, as her back arched against him, her neck pressed over his shoulder with her maw upon the nape of his neck. The woman could feel it building up within her, as his thrusts grew swifter, her body unable to not respond as she shuddered against him. And then—
She let out that cry as if in pain, but it was not with pain but with pure, utter, ecstasy that she cried out. Her fingers dug into his back as the waves of the climax clamped down upon him, pulsing for him. And she had died that ‘little death’ for him. And she felt that pain within her heart because she loved him so much. Her body tried to relax, but she didn’t want to move away from him. And yet, she fell back within his arms, able to open her eyes and look upon him as she brushed her maw against his before she kissed him deeply and slowly.