FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

This story is self-contained and can be read alone. (7,022 words) Rating: Explicit, M/F

Ian Caedry was upset when he left the restaurant. His face was carefully held in a neutral expression, but the fast, impatient pace of his steps revealed his agitation.

When Ian walked quickly, his support staff also walked quickly to keep up. Two bodyguards escorted him, keeping a respectful (but secure) distance around the aviation tycoon. A pair of personal assistants trailed just beside the man himself, already scribbling in their notebooks as he spoke to them in quiet tones.

Rafale watched as her owner strode rapidly towards her. As Ian approached, the two dragons sitting beside Rafale smoothly rose to standing positions. They were dragons like her, and yet they were very different. Rafale was a rainbow swiftwing—a breed that was usually used as pets or as racers. Her body was swift and sleek, and her scales were an elegant green. Built for speed, she could only carry one human’s weight, but that one human was important indeed.

In comparison, the other two dragons were dusky inimicals—they too were built for speed, but in an altogether different way. Their scales were dark as night, and even their footsteps seemed quiet. Yet though stealthy, their real strength was in their aerial speed and manoeuvrability—dusky inimicals were usually used as air-superiority fighters in the military. They were lightweight enough to keep pace with a racing dragon (as long as she didn’t sprint), but if it came to a fight there were only a few types of dragon that could hope to outfly a dusky inimical. Ian didn’t just have human bodyguards; he was protected by dragons as well, which was appropriate given his work.

Rafale stood up and stretched her legs, then she crouched back down to let Ian climb onto her back. “Had a good dinner?” she asked.

“No I did not. Let’s go home.” Ian climbed into the saddle and strapped in his legs. He buttoned up his blazer so it wouldn’t flap in the wind—though he was wearing business attire, it was a modified suit which was flexible enough that he could easily ride a dragon. His bodyguards were attired in the same way, and they too climbed onto the dusky inimicals, as did Ian’s personal assistants. But Ian was the only person who got to ride on Rafale, and that was a point of pride for her.

“Home it is.” Rafale spread her wings open, but one of the bodyguard dragons was the first to leap into the air. This was standard protocol. Rafale was never the first to land or the first to takeoff—such risks were reserved for those whose job it was to handle them.

Rafale jumped into the air next, followed quickly by the second dusky inimical. Flying in a tight formation, the three dragons gained altitude and turned, heading towards home. Rafale pumped her wings hard, feeling the strain in her muscles as she climbed higher in the darkening sky. The evening air was smooth and cool against her wings, but Ian’s hand was warm when he patted her neck. “Go fast…” he told her, and the dragoness sped up her wingbeats, striving to obey.

Flying faster meant that the noise of the rushing wind would drown out any chance of conversation, but that had probably been Ian’s intention. Rafale knew her owner better than anyone else, and she could see that something had upset him. How strange—perhaps his working dinner appointment had not been as productive as expected.

The two dusky inimicals were in standard formation for a fighter escort—one on each of Rafale’s sides, diagonally just ahead and just behind. As she sped up her flight, they also picked up their speed to match her pace.

Their journey home would take them across state borders. Ian’s dinner meeting had been in Bridgeport, Connecticut, and now they were returning towards New York, New York. On foot this journey would have taken a full day, and even by motorized car this trip would have taken at least four hours, but by wing they covered in it just a single hour. Such rapid transit was but one of the advantages of draconic flight capability, and it was on these concepts which Ian had founded his company years ago.

The sun had set fully by the time they were approaching the Big Apple, but electric lighting kept the city’s distinctive skyline fully visible, illuminating the tapering skyscrapers with their pointed spires. Over the decades, zoning laws had steered architecture in a unique, noticeable fashion—the buildings were setback in steps, growing thinner towards their higher floors. This served several purposes—it kept streets from feeling too compact and being cast into shadow, but more importantly it gave dragons the space to takeoff and land down at street level.

Descending from cruising altitude, the three dragons flew across the city centre. Dozens of other dragons could be seen crisscrossing the airspace, carrying passengers or cargo—though it was impossible to see this small detail from afar, Rafale knew that most of them were wearing flight harnesses marked with the logo of Caedry Aerospace. They were Ian’s dragons, just as she was.

Ian’s personal home was a penthouse apartment, in the residential tower which was just next-door to Caedry Aerospace Group’s headquarters. Rafale landed smoothly, bending her legs as she gently touched down on the skyscraper’s roof. Unstrapping his leg restraints, Ian slipped off her back and headed towards the stairwell leading down into the building. Walking at his brisk pace, he paused in the corridor for a few seconds to bid good night to his personal assistants and bodyguards. In a way, Rafale reflected, Ian owned them all too.

A human-to-human employment contract was very different compared to the chattel ownership which humans could hold over dragons, yet the lives of Ian’s closest support staff revolved entirely around the business and schedule of the aerospace tycoon. When Ian woke up in the morning, his personal assistants would already have his breakfast prepared and scheduled out his day’s meeting and appointments, while a rotating team of bodyguards would always be nearby to keep him protected. All the support staff lived right here as well—Ian’s apartment was the majority of this upper level, but there were also separate rooms for his support staff. They were almost like a family, albeit a family which was bound by a different sort of relationship—bound by their jobs and loyalty, instead of by blood.

Yet Ian still treated his staff like family. He knew them all by name, even the two dusky inimicals who served as aerial bodyguards. Many humans treated dragons as lower forms of life, seeing them as dumb animals or beasts of burden, but not Ian Caedry.

As far as Rafale knew, no other human understood dragons as well as Ian did. He knew how they flew, so he could plan optimal air routes and efficient logistics. Just as importantly, he knew how their minds worked, so his company could keep their dragons motivated and content. This much and more—everything else which had helped him revolutionize the aerospace industry, bringing him all his influence and wealth.

But when Ian said goodnight to his bodyguards and personal assistants, he didn’t bother to give this same farewell greeting to Rafale—he didn’t need to. As Ian walked through his apartment door, Rafale followed quietly behind him. Technically she was just his personal transport—a racing dragon whose egg he’d purchased back in the earlier days of his company—but she was also his pet.

Rafale had her own living quarters down the corridor, but she hardly ever used that room. The bed there was large and comfortable, but she much preferred sleeping on the carpeted floor of Ian’s bedroom. Sleeping alone made her feel lonely, but she was fairly certain that she wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

Ian flung his briefcase onto his desk before helping Rafale to remove her saddle. With the dragoness relieved of her flight harness, Ian shrugged out of his blazer. He undid his shoelaces and left his shoes beside his bedroom door. Walking back to his desk, he opened up his briefcase and looked through his documents. “No paperwork to be done tonight—that’s a rare occasion. I ought to celebrate by getting a good night’s sleep. What a day, what a day!”

Rafale took Ian’s blazer in her jaws and carefully hung it up on a hook on the wall. Using the tip of her tail, she nudged Ian’s shoes until they were neatly lined up together. “Oh?” she prompted.

“No, actually the day was fine. It was the evening which was the problem,” Ian continued. He undid his belt buckle and began unbuttoning his shirt. As he continued removing his clothing, he strolled into the bathroom attached to his bedroom. He didn’t bother to shut the bathroom door, though he did draw the shower curtain. “That dinner was…trying in a most unexpected manner.”

Rafale sat down on her haunches, waiting just outside the shower. While her owner cleaned himself, she began carefully licking her scales clean. For a dragon, using water and soap to wash was a rare event as the harsh detergent chemicals were more damaging to dragon scales than to human skin.

“Did that woman not agree to vote for your proposal?” Rafale asked. It wasn’t her business to know about Ian’s business, but he rarely bothered to hide things from her. She’d known that Ian (and his company) had been lobbying for a particular law to be enacted, and his dinner today was with some important politician whose support they needed.

“No, no. Congresswoman Parker was happy to support the bill. And why wouldn’t she be? The Free Skies Act will benefit the whole country, of course, but the eastern seaboard will see a huge economic boom once dragons regularly start flying transatlantic to Europe. With that sort of support, her re-election next year will be a given. She’ll vote for the bill. Deregulation is only logical.”

“So then why are you bothered?” Rafale asked.

“I’m not bothered!” Ian replied, but his response came too fast and too snappy. The flow of water in the shower was cut off, and Ian grabbed a towel to dry himself. He was done after just a couple of minutes; he had never been fond of wasting time enjoying a relaxing shower. “I’m just… It’s difficult to explain. Parker—Congresswoman Parker wasn’t…she was… I don’t know if you’ll understand.”

It was rare to hear Ian unsure of what to say, so Rafale said nothing. Sometimes saying nothing was the best way to get people to continue talking. All she needed to do was listen.

Pulling on a loose shirt and a pair of shorts, Ian left the bathroom and went back to his bedroom. “I shouldn’t even be talking about it. If I knew what was best for everyone involved, I’d keep my mouth shut and forget it ever happened.”

Rafale had been following her owner, but now her tail swished in agitation. Ian sounded intimidated! How dare this Parker woman make Ian so upset? It made Rafale want to grab Ian and protectively warp her wings around him. “She threatened you!?”

Ian shook his head and snorted. “No, of course not. She acted in a manner which was…unbecoming of someone in her position.”

“You mean she did something embarrassing?”

“Not like that.” Ian sighed. He turned to stare directly at the dragoness who was his pet, and somehow also the person he could be most honest with. “Rafale, promise me you won’t talk about this to anyone else. It’s really not something I can afford to have even the slightest rumours about.”

Without hesitation, Rafale agreed. “I promise.”

“Alright. I trust you.” Ian sat down on his bed and leaned back against the headboard. He crossed his arms. “Then…do you know what a conflict of interest is?”

Rafale flopped onto the bed beside him, and laid her head in his lap. The green-scaled dragoness nodded, then shook her head, then nodded again.

Ian chuckled. “Hah. Basically it means when someone has two conflicting interests. For example, if a lawyer is hired by two companies who are both suing each other, he has a conflict of interest because he is supposed to act in the best interests of his clients, but now he can’t possibly act in both of his two clients’ best interests because they are suing each other, so their interests are conflicted. It’s when your professional responsibilities are conflicted against your personal interests.”

“And this Parker woman is…conflicted?” Rafale asked, cocking her head as she thought through this idea.

“Congresswoman Parker is very conflicted, or at least she would be, and I would be too, if I had been fool enough to let my bodily instincts make irrational decisions,” Ian muttered. He placed a hand on Rafale’s head and stroked her scales. “How shall I phrase this? She…ah…made it amply clear with her physical actions and words that she was willing to sleep with me, if I was so inclined.”

Just as she’d been starting to relax, Rafale felt her claws slide out of her paws. Irrationally she felt a surge of jealously towards this woman who’d try to make sexual advances on her owner, but she tried to supress her own emotions. “But you were not inclined?”

“No, I was not! The whole idea was just…wrong,” Ian insisted.

“Why? Did you find her body unpleasant?”

“Honestly, no. Parker is in fantastic shape—she looks ten years younger than her real age. We went to college together, so I know she’s the same age as me—forty-five.” Ian chuckled again. “Just the right age to be having a midlife crisis, I suppose.”

“So then if you found Parker attractive, it was just your professionalism which stopped you from mating with her?” Rafale was now feeling a conflict of her own—she shouldn’t be asking these things to her owner, and yet she had to know. Even the mental image of Ian mating with someone else…it made her upset in a way it shouldn’t have.

Ian didn’t appear to notice Rafale’s slight agitation. He kept stroking her neck, patting her scales. “Professionalism? Certainly there was that! But even if I were to ignore the obvious conflict of interest between me, the CEO of an aviation group lobbying congress to pass a bill, and her, a congresswoman who ought to be impartially considering that bill for the good of the American people, it would still be morally wrong because Parker is married and has kids! Can you just imagine the scandal that would be? For her own sake I hope this was just a one-off incident where she’d had too much wine.”

“Ah.” Rafale raised her head and licked at her owner’s face, making him chuckle again. “Would it help if I told you that you did the right thing? Because you did the right thing.”

“Thanks. You’re a really good listener, you know that? Sometimes I think you’re the only person I’m completely, totally honest with,” Ian said.

Rafale felt a warm surge of pride on hearing this compliment. “Listening to someone like you is easy! I’d do anything for you if you asked. Anything. I…I think I love you.” The words slipped out of her mouth without any forethought or planning—a confession that came from her heart.

Ian smiled warmly, but he didn’t seem to grasp what Rafale had meant. “You’re a good dragoness, Rafale. No, more than that—you’re a good friend. Thanks for listening, because sometimes I really do wonder if I’m doing the right thing.” He gestured towards his bedroom wall, where a large map was pasted. All across the map were crisscrossing flight routes

“Look at all this!” Ian murmured, and Rafale already knew what he was going to say. She’d heard him say it all before, yet hearing his words never got old. Ian was a natural speaker, with a commanding voice when he wanted it. “That’s the logistics and transport network of Caedry Aerospace Group. Look at all of it. The busy airport hubs where thousands of dragons fly in and out every day, crowding up the skyways at all hours—Memphis, Los Angeles, Miami, New York! What would those cities be without us?

“But dragons didn’t need airports—they can just takeoff and land in remote, semi-developed regions, not even requiring the paved roads that motorized cars demand. No region in the country left behind—our flight routes link cities, towns, and almost every settlement across this great nation. We helped build it all.”

Ian’s voice lightened slightly, losing that commanding tone but sounding more personal—more intimate, and just as persuasive as before. “When I was young I saw what dragons could do, and I just knew that they were the future of transport. All those motorized cars spewing exhaust everywhere, requiring the demolition of whole neighbourhoods to build freeways—I knew that couldn’t be right. There were all these plans for railroads and freeways everywhere, but I knew there was an easier way. A simpler way…and a better way.”

Rafale felt Ian stroke her head, ruffling her short neck crest. She was enthralled with Ian’s words, as she always was. “All the analysts and investors claimed that dragons were as antiquated as horses. They told me that they had done their calculations, and motor cars would become the dominant form of transport in the country, then the world. Machines were the future. They all said that dragons were just animals, hard to handle, lazy, and disobedient! Ha! I said otherwise, and now the analysts beg me to tell them where to put their money.

“Now we have twenty thousand dragons flying around the country. Everywhere you go, wherever you see humans, you see dragons. Delivering postal mail, packages, medical supplies, coal, food…” Ian halted mid-speech. “Speaking of food—you’ve eaten dinner, right?”

“Of course. That restaurant gave me dinner,” Rafale replied. “It was quite tasty, although there wasn’t any dessert.”

“Hmm, that’s good. I should have checked you’d eaten before asking you to fly us home. Sorry. I was just…distracted by all that silliness with Congresswoman Parker. Which brings me back to the point of all my rambling—I’ve always had a vision of this industry, with dragons flying air routes all across the country, and even between countries. I knew it could be done, and I knew I had to make that a reality.” Ian shook his head. “But in other things I just don’t know what I need to do. Parker has always been a smart, cunning lady, even though now I’m not quite sure of her morals. We even dated once, back all those years ago in college. During dinner, she said some things about me that I just… I don’t know.”

“What did she say? Did she insult you?” Rafale curled her tail around Ian’s leg affectionately, trying to reassure him, not that he looked like he needed reassuring.

“No, she didn’t insult me. Not intentionally, at least. We just were catching up on all that had happened to us over the years—her becoming a politician, me becoming a businessman. And then she started talking about how I was still single, how I hadn’t bothered to start a family or even find a partner—as if that were some grievous character flaw. But is it? I’m always surrounded by people, and I’m not lonely—isn’t that what matters? I’ve got allies, business partners, colleagues, even friends. And you too, of course. I’ve got a pet dragoness who flies races.”

“Sorry, I think you meant to say—a pet dragoness who wins races.” Rafale nipped at Ian’s fingers, but her playfulness belied the serious way she considered her owner’s words. She knew very little about business, but she’d spent so much time around Ian that she knew a few things about Caedry Aerospace Group’s upper management. Ian wasn’t some lone visionary who had come to success all alone—certainly he was smart and hardworking, but he had accomplished his lofty goals by building a network of similar people who worked for and with him.

And yet…Rafale couldn’t remember Ian ever mentioning love, or even lust. Did he not feel these same desires which everyone did? “But Ian, if there hadn’t been a…a conflict of interest, would you have mated with that woman?”

Ian raised an eyebrow. “Even ignoring the conflict of interest, there was the part where she was married. And also very drunk.”

Rafale tried to copy her owner by raising an eye ridge, but she couldn’t quite pull off this gesture. “Ignoring all that too. If that woman had not been a politician, if she had not been already married, and if she had not been drunk, would you have mated with her?”

“When you put it that way, I suppose I might have let things happen.” Ian sighed. “Parker was…and is a pretty lady, and I do admit I was tempted. At first I thought she was being overly friendly—she kept touching my arm, patting me on the shoulder… But then she started rubbing her leg against mine, and eventually she even dared to try reaching a hand down to feel me up. No mistaking her intentions with that move.”

Rafale was suddenly acutely aware of how her tail was coiled around Ian’s leg, and how her head was resting just over his lap. Hmm… Feeling curious, she placed a paw on his thigh and started nosing at his groin. This wasn’t a careful, measured decision—she had just impulsively decided that she wanted to do this. After all, Ian had just admitted that he did feel those same basal urges which drove people to find mates; urges which Rafale could not deny she felt.

“That was the point where I decide to excuse myself before anything else happened. And…and just what exactly are you doing, you silly dragoness?” Ian asked, quickly noticing that Rafale’s actions were just as cuddly as before, but now in an altogether different fashion.

“Excellent question. I don’t know,” Rafale replied, but she didn’t stop. Ian was only wearing nightwear—his shirt and shorts were loose-fitting and made from thin, comfortable material, which only provided the most perfunctory protection against her investigation. But still, even that amount of clothing was more than Rafale was wearing. So to make things fair… “Eh…could you scoot back so I can remove your shorts?”

It was a rare event to see Ian looking confused. “What? Is there something on my shorts? Why are you—?”

“It’s not about your shorts. It’s about what’s in them.” Rafale replied.

“What…?! What are you…?” sputtered Ian, and Rafale giggled at the sight of her owner with his jaw dropped open. While he was distracted, she slipped her tail under his back and under the band of his shorts—one easy yanking motion and she had pulled his shorts down to his knees. Still sitting back on the bed, Ian was now wearing half as much clothing as before. “Hey!”

“Heeeyy!” Rafale chirped, a wide grin spreading across her muzzle.

Ian tried to grab his shorts, but Rafale was quicker—grabbing the garment in her jaws, she yanked it all the way off the human’s legs. Then she stood up, tossed Ian’s shorts under her rump, and sat back down. He wasn’t getting his shorts back till she said so—rainbow swiftwings were small dragons as far as dragons went, but she was pretty sure Ian wouldn’t be able to push her off. She was big enough to carry him in flight, after all.

It turns out that Ian didn’t even try. He remained frozen for a few moments, too shocked to react. “Rafale! What is the meaning of this? Explain yourself! And give my pants back.”

Rafale ignored both requests. Normally she’d obey Ian’s every beck and call, but suddenly she felt bold and rebellious. Darting her head forward, she flipped up Ian’s shirt, which had been blocking what she really wanted to see. “Oh, that’s interesting.”

Ian snatched up a pillow and hurriedly covered his groin, but not before Rafale had gotten a peek. “What? Are you ogling me? Rafale, what on earth has gotten into you?”

“Well, see…here’s my thought process: I don’t think we have a conflict of interest between us, and I’m not married, and I’m not drunk. So logically…” Rafale used a forepaw to tap the pillow Ian was holding over his groin. “Move that pillow.”

Ian didn’t move the pillow. “What? Oh, don’t tell me—you’re in heat again, aren’t you?”

“Hmm? I don’t think so.” Rafale stood up on the bed and curled her neck back to sniff at her hindquarters. She could detect the faint smell of her own growing arousal, but not that characteristic scent that indicated she was in her once-yearly heat cycle. “No, I don’t think I’m in heat. Why?”

“Because you just pulled off my pants! That’s why,” muttered Ian. Suddenly he lunged forward and tried to snatch his shorts back since Rafale had stood up. He was fast enough to get his hand on the garment, but Rafale was fast too. The dragoness quickly unfurled a wing to push him back, then she flopped down on top of her owner before he could do anything else. Ian was left flat on his back, with a green-scaled dragoness half lying, half sitting on top of his supine body. And he wasn’t wearing any pants.

“Gah! Rafale! Alright, funny joke, you can stop it now.” Ian stretched out a hand towards the bedside table and slapped a switch—motorized curtains started lowering down over the windows, blocking out light from the street and neighbouring skyscrapers.

“Oo, yes. Some privacy,” Rafale said with a grin. She licked at Ian’s face. “All the better for us to be all alone together.”

“No, not like that.” Ian slapped at Rafale’s chest, but not with any real force or anger. “Get off me, you silly dragoness. You’re too old to be play fighting like some hatchling.”

“I’m not play fighting! This is like a proving duel which some dragons have before they mate. They wrestle with each other just to make sure that both are fit enough to have eggs,” Rafale replied. “Uh, I think? I’ve never actually met dragons who do that, but I read about that in an encyclopaedia.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a dragon,” Ian told her.

“That’s ok, I don’t mind.” Still keeping her owner pinned underneath her, Rafale turned herself around so that her tail was near Ian’s shoulders and her head was facing his legs. “What do we have here?” Finally she could get a good, unobstructed look at Ian’s groin; human’s reproductive anatomy was very different from the draconic equivalent. The most obvious difference was that it was even visible at all—a drake’s phallus was normally stowed inside their genital slit unless they were openly aroused, but Ian’s penis was just flopping about outside his body even though it was soft.

“Seriously now, this is most unexpected. This isn’t…whoa…” Whatever Ian had been about to say, his voice trailed off when Rafale opened her jaws and took his penis into her mouth.

There wasn’t much smell or taste, but that was probably because Ian had just taken a shower. At first all Rafale did was hold the human’s flaccid penis in her mouth, letting her tongue twist and coil around the prize she’d found. But within a few seconds she could sense a gradual change—his soft length was beginning to stiffen, engorging with blood. “Mm? Mm!” Rafale opened her jaws just for a moment. “Oh that’s so weird! It’s getting bigger inside my mouth!” Then she went back to licking and sucking on Ian’s manhood.

Because she was still sitting over Ian’s torso and chest, Rafale couldn’t see her owner’s facial expression, but he didn’t sound angry. The human let out a prolonged, slightly exasperated sigh. “Well that’s…I literally don’t what to say about this. No idea. I’m getting a blowjob from my dragon.”

By now, Ian’s penis was fully erect. Rafale pulled back again and took a look—though she’d mated with other dragons before, she’d hardly ever gotten chance to see a human naked, let alone aroused. Ian’s penis looked…like a penis. Interestingly, it felt soft yet hard at the same time, with smooth skin sliding over a core of rigid, tumescent flesh. It wasn’t really that it was that attractive—what she loved was the human it was attached to. “Aren’t you the one who always says, better to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission?”

“That just means to be ambitious and take initiative. It doesn’t mean…whatever you’re doing now.” Ian made a half-hearted effort to push Rafale’s bulk off him, but the dragoness refused to move. “I think I’m spoiling you, letting you indulge in all…this.”

The unfortunate thing about blowjobs, Rafale realized, was that it was very difficult to talk while your mouth was busy fellating someone. With her mouth fully occupied, all she could do was grunt disagreement. “Uh-uh!” Her muzzle was wrapped around Ian’s penis, and she was slowly bobbing her head up and down—this was something which she knew drakes enjoyed, and presumably human males worked the same way, since it imitated the usual in-out motions of normal intercourse. “Naagh.”

Fortunately, Ian knew her well enough to guess what she wanted to say. “I’m not unappreciative! I’m just… Rafale, you are a dragoness! I’m a man! This isn’t how these things are supposed to work.”

Rafale growled softly. “Rrr…” Her tail swished around, then coiled around one of Ian’s arms. Subtly (or not so subtly) she began to grind her hips against Ian’s chest, rubbing her genital slit against him.

“Ah. When you said ‘I love you’ earlier, I didn’t realize you meant it like this.” Ian patted Rafale’s behind, but he didn’t do anything further besides just lie there. “I do love you. I treasure you very much, but more as friend and confidant. I’m not sure if…sexually I’m the sort of person who’s attracted to dragons.”

Much as she always loved to listen to her owner, Rafale was now paying more attention to his body than his words. Ian had started to grow tense under her as his arousal continued to build, and she was busy figuring out how best to pleasure him. Carefully she reached a forepaw and gently prodded, then held his testicles—drakes had internal testicles, so this was new. Also new was the slight bush of hair near the base of Ian’s erect length. It was all so weird! She loved it.

Rafale felt Ian’s hands tracing her scales, sliding along her hindlegs and sides. “It’s just…this is bestiality. It’s not how things are supposed to be done. And yet…you’re actually really good at that. I suppose it’s the muzzle—you can deep throat without even using your throat. Seriously, this day really has taken a turn into the unexpected. First I get an old friend (and congresswoman!) acting all inappropriate, and now I’m getting a blowjob from my dragon—why am I letting this happen? I should order you to stop. But if I did, would you listen to me?”

Rafale paused, and now it was her turn to sigh. She curled her neck around to stare at Ian. “I said I love you, Ian. Do you think I would listen to you? If you asked?”

Ian nodded. He wasn’t meeting her gaze. “I think you would.”

“But despite all you’ve said so far, you haven’t actually asked me to stop. All you’ve done is hem and haw, acting awkward about the whole thing.” Rafale felt a sudden surge of prideful independence. She was a grown dragoness, and Ian was a grown man. They were both intelligent, rational creatures capable of making decisions. So what if they were from different species? Ian of all people had always championed dragons as not being lesser creatures than humans!

“Look at me,” she growled, and that made Ian snap up his gaze to meet her eyes. In a sharp motion, Rafale got to her feet and lifted her weight off her owner. Trotting forward, she turned around fully and crouched near his legs instead. Then she reached out her forepaws to grab Ian’s erect length, guided it into her open jaws, and kept going. Now there was nothing stopping him from just pulling away, and there was no way he could avoid meeting her gaze as she pleasured him with her tongue and mouth. It was a direct challenge. Tell me to stop and I’ll stop, or shut up and let it happen!

And Ian let it happen. He reached his hand out towards Rafale’s head—at first she thought he would push her away, but instead he gently stroked her cheek. Ian’s palm was gentle and warm, and his touch was always welcome. “Oh no, the tabloids were right. They called me the man with dragons on the brain, and they were right.” He sounded faintly amused. “Rafale my dear, I do love you, even if sometimes I forget to mention it. I care about you more than I do for any other dragon in the world. More than any human too, I think. But I should warn you that…that I might not be able to… Beautiful dragoness you may be, but obviously we are of different species, and biologically-speaking my standards for sexual attractiveness are hardwired to other humans.”

Despite his warning, this didn’t really seem to be a problem. Rafale just kept going, bobbing her head up and down over Ian’s erection. His organ was fully engorged and rigid now, as if desperately stiffening itself up to get more stimulation from her mouth. She’d gotten into a steady rhythm, and faintly she could taste a slick, salty liquid on her tongue. Yet another thing that was different—when aroused, drakes produced pre-ejaculate from both their genital slits and the tips of their erections to lubricate any action, whereas apparently human males were far less productive.

Curling her tail around, Rafale began rubbing the dextrous end of her tail against her genital slit, gently stimulating herself as well. This whole situation made her feel excited and eager, somehow even more so than when she’d been mating with another dragon. Ian wasn’t a dragon—he didn’t have strong wings or a slender tail, but those were just minor factors which hardly even affected her feelings for him.

Because he was Ian Caedry, the human whose name every dragon knew; he was the one who was ushering in a new era, changing society itself and finding a place for them in this world. He was more than a businessman—he was one of the architects of aviation, building a better future. But he was more than just Ian Caedry, he was…Ian.

Her Ian—the man who had, decades ago, bought her egg and raised her by hand. Ian was brilliant and shrewdly ruthless, but he was also kind and caring. Some dragons hated the idea of letting humans ride on their backs, but Rafale had always been proud that Ian relied on her to bring him everywhere. He never overworked her, and he always took the time to ensure she was well-rested and fed. Whenever Rafale flew in racing competitions, Ian would take time out of his busy schedule to watch her fly and cheer her on.

So when Rafale had told Ian she loved him, it had been the truth.

Ian was beginning to tense up, and his breathing was getting heavier. Rafale’s jaw was feeling a bit tired from her constant motion, but she sped up instead of slowing down.

“Rafale, you crazy, silly, majestic thing, you.” Ian murmured. His voice sounded sultry and distracted, as if he was succumbing to his urges, or perhaps that was just her imagination taking. “I might have to revise what I said earlier about not being able to cum. Oo, right there. That’s the sensitive part.”

Rafale had already figured that out a few minutes ago, but now she doubled down on her efforts. One of her paws was on Ian’s thigh, and the other was still holding his balls and gently massaging them. Again and again she played with his erection, focusing her licks especially on the underside where his shaft met the head. How long would it take for this intimate encounter to come to its conclusion?

It didn’t take much longer. “Uh!” Ian grunted, sounding almost surprised, and that was all the warning Rafale got before his erection began to twitch and jerk inside her mouth. Warm, slightly sticky liquid pooled over her tongue as evidence of her success—she’d worked Ian into a climax, teasing him into releasing his semen.

Rafale slowed down her motions until she was holding still, letting Ian empty out his stored lust into her maw. She blinked her eyes closed, savouring the moment as they shared it together. All that effort for just a few brief seconds—but she had no complaints about rewarding her owner in this manner. Even as Ian went completely tense from the orgasm she’d coaxed out of him, Rafale felt satisfaction too.

It wasn’t same satisfaction that came from directly feeling sexual pleasure, but it was a warm, happy feeling of closeness. Her tail was still pressed up against her genital slit, but Rafale didn’t bother to keep pleasuring herself. If her previous intimate encounters, she would have been upset if a drake satisfied himself without bothering to reciprocate, but she felt no resentment towards Ian at all. Her previous times with other partners had been mutual exchanges of pleasure, but now this was different—all she had wanted to do was to make Ian happy, and to express just how much she loved him.

“Rafale. Rafale…” Ian slowly slumped back down on the bed, relaxing as the tension drained out of his body.

Rafale opened her eyes again and let Ian’s softening manhood slip from her jaws. All his semen had been caught in her mouth, tasting faintly salty, and without saying anything she swallowed it all down. Now that the deed was done, she felt slightly guilty over what she’d done. She’d never been a particularly submissive sort of dragon, but now she wondered if she had gone too far. It was one thing to be Ian’s friend, and it was quite another thing to try and seduce him. Slowly she tried to suppress her pride and work up the courage to apologize, but Ian spoke first. “Thank you for that. You are…much better at giving blowjobs than I expected.”

Now it was Rafale’s turn to be unable to make eye contact. Feeling guilty and a bit embarrassed, she picked up Ian’s shorts and tried to pass they back. Conflicting emotions began rushing through her mind—fear, joy, panic, lust, worry, affection—so much that she was struggling to keep her tail from twitching. “Sorry,” she finally managed to blurt out. “That was…overly bold of me. I forgot my place.”

Now Ian laughed—a warm, friendly chuckle. Rafale felt his hand touch the side of her snout, then he stroked her head. Such a simple display of affection, and yet it meant so much. “Haha. Your place? And what is your place supposed to be, my dear?”

Rafale leaned against Ian’s hand. “Your personal transport. I fly you wherever you need to go.”

“True, but do you really think that is all you are to me?” Ian leaned forward, and he gently raised Rafale’s chin so that their eyes met. “No mention of our friendship? How I can be honest with you like no one else? How your companionship keeps me from becoming lonely?”

“So…you’re not angry?” Rafale asked, daring to let a little hope enter her voice.

“Angry? No, I don’t think I am. I’m not even upset.” Ian dropped his hand, and he shifted his legs to pull his shorts back on. “It has been months…perhaps even years since I last felt the intimate touch of another person. I think I’ve forgotten just how good it feels.”

Well, that remark instantly suppressed all of Rafale’s emotions except joy. “So we can do this again?” Fluttering her wings, Rafale jumped onto the bed and snuggled up against Ian again.

“I won’t rule it out, but…but we need to get some things clear.” Ian tapped her on the nose with a finger. “We aren’t mates or…or a couple, nothing like that. This is just me saying that…maybe we can get some mutual satisfaction from time to time.”

Rafale made a deep, rumbling noise in her chest—not a growl, but more like a satisfied purr. “Mmrrrrr… That’s ok. We don’t need to be married before I’ll let you screw me. Just say the word whenever and I’ll raise my tail for you.”

Ian snorted, half in surprise, half in amusement. “All fine and well, but you understand what I mean? Many people still see dragons as lesser beings, or as pests. Much as I’m trying to change that mentality, I don’t think this country is ready for quite that level of equality.”

“Yes, I get it. Most people aren’t as smart as you, so they won’t understand. I’ll keep our secret.” Rafale rubbed her head against Ian’s chest. “But next time you release your seed, I want to feel it inside me… Not in my mouth, but somewhere it was supposed to go…”

“You horny, ridiculous dragon,” Ian muttered, but Rafale could hear his amused grin. “Next time, perhaps.” He reached over to the bedside table and slapped the light switches, plunging the room into darkness. In the quiet of the night, Rafale could still feel Ian’s warmth beside her.

There was no comfort which compared to that of falling asleep next to the one she loved.

END