The first taste
This is a story for art collab that
Description: Exhausted with Tawyr's constant wet dreams while she is trying to get some shut-eye, Asharya concludes that it is time she slakes Tawyr's irritating infatuation with her.
Asharya (c) is my character
Tawyr (c) belongs to Tastywyrm https://www.furaffinity.net/user/tastywyrm/
Artwork done by Endermoonfur: https://www.furaffinity.net/gallery/endermoonfur/
***The first taste***
Asharya wasn't in the habit of lifting her tail for another male, let alone a fellow wyvern, but she had it with Tawyr's yelps and moans in the dead of night. His seed took surprisingly long to follow, always shooting when his flared-up spade could no longer withstand the unbearable pressure welled within. And the smell! That strong, permeating reek of utter desperation! It...aroused her, enough to plant this impossibly persistent idea that it had to be her to erase all his virgin fantasies on what mounting actually implied.
If fortune favored her, he'd just stumble out of balance and crash on his back, spurting his pent-up seed all over himself. The alternative, of remaining tied firmly to her back, his shaft lodged deep enough into her to fill her to the brim with his thick, persistent seed, fanned the flames of lust even brighter. The physical stimulation wouldn't even tickle her, but the enveloping sounds of a male's first climax when squeezed by a female's nethers, that exploding warmth bursting into her without even the subtlest of clues...
She had to feel it. To experience this far too rare occurrence once again when she could better focus on its intricacies. The first time it happened, she leaped forward, severing her tie to her mate while struck by penetrating terror. Her breath hitched, her chest tightened, and her very vision wavered, threatening to succumb to the darkness. The wyverness never expected mere pleasure to bite so strong, so deep; for it to overtake her entire being and subjugate her to its will.
How could one not grow addicted to it? Or to pass the rarest of opportunities of drawing the first seed of a surprisingly endearing male into herself? A tiny, fleeting concern of what might sprout from it was no match against the whims of instinct, more so when her vent already burned and itched with the promise of it.
"This is a strange place to stop," Tawyr landed beside her at the foot of a barren mountain standing tall across the steppes sprinkled with meager amounts of vegetation. With no shelter from the midday sun to grant him reprieve, the bumbling wyvern scouted the surrounding area for signs of a ledge, cranny or nook to slip into, jaws already gaped, tongue swaying in unison with his panting breaths.
"It is appropriate," Asharya said, shuffling in the middle of an imperfect ring rounded by rocky outcrops. It felt strangely reassuring, ceremonial even, for it to happen here, where the land itself marked an appropriate spot for their union. The hard packed ground lacked any treacherous roots or pebbles, a perfect surface for the tips of her talons to bite into. Her wings flopped on each side, unfurling to their maximum width. Her rump followed next, hoisted as far as her hips allowed, tail flagged to flaunt the needy state of her sex, wet and puffy with desire built over the past hour.
Tawyr immediately froze, stunned by both sight and smell wafting from her exposed sex. He knew the meaning of it, but like most young males, his immature mind failed to accept the ease of it. Surely it couldn't be that simple! They had a courtship ritual to undertake! Brawls where his strength pitted against hers, meant to show the future mate he had what it took to protect her.
"We're not mates," Asharya threw him a cool, emotionless side glance. "We will never be mates. But that doesn't forbid us from nurturing our instinct to breed now and then."
Wings limp, his body completely unresponsive, the only moving part of Tawyr's body were his eyelids, blinking in shocked disbelief.
"Fine," the wyverness straightened her body, flattening her tail over her ripe offering. "I'll let you remain a slave to your daily rituals, until we run out of clean dens and caverns thanks to your inability to hold your mating fluids during sleep."
Any other male would have taken the opportunity to prove her wrong by sneaking their snout under her tail and seize the previous offer, but Tawyr's breaths evened. His frame relaxed, and that final, solemn blink said more to her than his words could.
This barely tolerable fool...he actually found relief in her choice, taking the cowardly way out of not even trying to prove her wrong. It took great effort to restrain her growl and give away her true emotions that reflected her shift of perspective. This brief introductory mating might have started for his benefit, but it was now her urge Asharya wished to quell, and unlike him, she wasn't one to give up at the first sign of challenge.
"Approach me," Asharya invited him by bowing forward a second time. "Breathe in my scent. Or do you only find it appealing when I rest?"
Tawyr's frills immediately flared in dismay, fully aware of that single episode and where it could have led, had he not let his wit get the better of him.
"Such curiosity doesn't vanish after a single try," the wyverness wiggled her rump enticingly. "Resume where we left off, so that we can find out where it leads this time around."
The obviousness of her answer grew to full mast right before her eyes, thick and throbbing with expected need. Already she could notice the flicker of apprehension wavering in his hungry gaze. Tawyr's nostrils widened; they twitched and shuddered as the pull of pheromones lured him to the desired spot one hesitant step at a time, until the distance between them grew too small for Tawyr to pull back.
That was it. She had him caught in the fetters of lust, a position no virgin male could hope to turn back from. There was a great, almost insatiable longing to the curt whiffs wrinkling his muzzle into an expected snarl. It was as if he just now started to savor her, to really analyze what he was smelling, how it affected his body, and why it enraptured his mind such. A few seconds later, the next step followed, where the tip of his snout brushed against her quivering lips for a far closer and more personal touch.
Asharya flinched from the suddenness of the contact, shuddering from wings to tail tip, scales aflame with agonizing anticipation. Listening to his hungry breaths suck in the miasma enveloping her sex with such passion stirred her heart into a barely controlled frenzy, every scale on her body tingling with the fire welling deep within her.
Enslaved by her musk alone, Tawyr continued to bump his snout against her entrance, insisting on sampling the stronger smells trapped within. Unlike him, Asharya possessed a great revulsion for the cold water, resorting to baths only when the given setting caked her scales with unbearable grime. But as they flew through the drier portions of the continent, the layers of her leaking arousal condensed within her tunnel, hardening her smell into a deeper, more infatuating odor for the inexperienced males.
She knew not why males favored the deeper tones of her scent, other than the effect it had on them. Frustrated with his lack of progress, a few short-lived whimpers crept past Tawyr's defenses, his snout pressed against walls clamped too tight to give away their secret. Just as his tongue snaked forth to attempt to ply her with its wet caress, the male's hips began to buck, shoving his member against ethereal, unfulfilling air that could never squeeze the seed out of him.
"You had enough," Asharya said, her tail trying to guide him away from her vent, but to no effect. Trembling and unsteady as his tongue was, it started lapping at her folds like that of a starved hound, worming and poking its way through to sample the thicker, far richer fluids. The sudden invasion choked the breath out of Asharya, her balance wavering in spite of her outstretched wings meant to tether her in place.
"It...it tastes so..." Tawyr's shuddering words intertwined with his desperate slurps, "Can't...stop..."
"You have to!" Asharya wrapped the slender tip of her tail around his throat, yanking him back. "I'll let you lick me another time, when you are less...vulnerable," she said, more to his bobbing shaft than to him. He looked so ready to cum without putting his cock into her that Asharya's chest tightened, gripped by the intense panic of missing out on such a unique occurrence.
For the first time, however, Tawyr surprised her, lunging forward like an enraged bull. His wing talons latched on the inside of her haunches, holding fast while his hips drove his member, always missing their mark. His whines and growls heightened with every glancing blow, for even the hardness of her plates felt stimulating to his impossibly hard shaft, especially when slickened by her juices.
Asharya stilled her breath, focusing solely on the fluctuating grip of his wing talons. Whenever they clench, a thrust followed, a clue that permitted her to shift in the direction of his cock right as it speared through the air.
"Grawwwwhhhh!" Her roar exploded out of her, as was expected when the entirety of a male's length filled her in a single, bucking thrust. Compared to her cry, Tawyr only managed a chocking gasp, the haunches leaned against hers already shaking with the impossibility of holding his seed back for more than a few seconds. Instead of just giving up, Tawyr tried another shove, stronger and more purposeful than the previous, his ridges so full, so tense that they splattered some of her juices all around upon entry.
This was it. The definitive thrust, heralded by his bloating spade that flared to its fullest. Not trusting his wavering haunches, Tawyr leaned his chest against her hips, crying out his first orgasm inside a female in a thin, whimpering note.
That sound, of genuine and unexpected bliss, aroused Asharya to such extent that her orgasm crashed to her almost at the same time. Breathless from the shock, the wyverness arched her head to meet his, leaning against his plated throat at the height of her bliss. The intense, rhythmical pulses of her walls coordinated with Tawyr's throbs, applying as much pressure on his sensitive spade and ridges as possible to milk him of his virgin seed.
But for the twitches of his cock, Tawyr completely froze inside her, letting Asharya savor the subtle bursts of warmth spurting into her. Virgins always had the strongest, richest of spurts, as if they had to make up for all the time it took to finally unburden themselves of their seed. Her vision flickering, her mind reeling, Asharya tethered herself to the unique sensations coursing through her sex, letting them ripple through her unencumbered, savoring them to the fullest.
Until a thump, followed by a yelp, put an end to it all.
Male wyverns...they could rarely hold their footing until the very end, as if the pleasure melted their haunches. Collapsed on his side, his cock still jerking through the final stages of his climax, Tawyr wore an almost pained expression, given how wide his jaws spread to take in those deep, exhausted breaths. Thanks to her prior experience, Asharya recovered much quicker, enough to step over to him and nuzzle his limp neck to stir him.
"I'll go bathe. If you don't follow, you won't know how to find me for the night."
She gave him a few seconds to recover, but Tawyr's talons preferred the company of one another. Her footing barely fared any better, her wings as heavy as her dribbling vent. Thick gobs of excess seed spattered down on the ground as the momentum took her to the skies, her body itching with the electrifying and energizing sparks of satisfaction. It was a wonderful sensation, one that she chose to embrace rather than reject as she had done the first time around.
So what if she got pregnant? It would be an adventure as refreshing as her journey so far to raise hatchlings at the side of the clumsiest wyvern she ever came across.
***The End ***
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