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Forward Note: In this collaborative project I did with my friend called The Secret Cave, Illarion, an anthro dragon with lofty aspirations reunites in a silent cove with his leviathan friend, Stormy, a sea serpent who is too submissive for his own good. Lucky for him, Illarion knows of a feral dragon nested in the nearby mountains, a creature whose need for relief might very well be the solution to everyone's problem.

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Story is done by me, Cheetahs

Zarizav is: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/zarizav/

Stormy belongs to http://www.furaffinity.net/user/totodice1/

Illarion belongs to http://www.furaffinity.net/user/talarath/

artwork is done by http://www.furaffinity.net/user/thesecretcave/

The Need for Relief (collaborative Illustrated story done with The Secret Cave )

Mist rolled over the fjords, brought by the brisk wind of late autumn. Illarion walked on the deserted banks of Duskspeaker gulf, his claws sinking into the frigid sand. Fishermen pulled their nets out of the water and retreated to the sheltered parts of the village, behind the Talonrest cliffs, to wait out the winter while sheltered from the harsh blizzards that would roll from the sea.

Frost already dotted the barren crests of the peaks flanking the crescent-shaped gulf, the white death slowly but surely creeping over the stone behemoths. Though the chilling gusts ruffled the feathers lining the back of his neck and the base of his tail, Illarion found the cold a minor nuisance, easily forgettable among the peace and quiet of the twilight hours. The sun already disappeared behind the cliffs, its radiant streaks still coloring the distant horizon in a conflagration of fiery hues that gradually bruised into the soft violets of the evening.

Stormy enjoyed the dusk as well. Illarion made it a habit to meet up with the leviathan during the last hour of sunlight, the mystical creature a more intelligent and reliable companion that what the gossip from his village made Stormy out to be. Though Illarion paid no attention to mere superstition, he initially had his doubts about Stormy. Why would a creature like himself live so close to a community of anthros? More so, what was his real motivation behind it? Stormy had made it known since their first meeting that he had nobody that he could call a mate, therefore the ocean was his to conquer.

Illarion sped up his pace towards the Feathersong Cove, a secluded hollow hewn between jagged cliffs shadowed by the clumps of oaks growing at the top. Few of the villagers ventured into that barren, stony alcove, so Illarion appropriated the cove for the encounters with his new and mysterious friend.

In a way, Illarion was a mystery himself. Being the only dragon flaunting the plumage of his mother, Illarion quickly became a gaping target for the children in the village, the little devils overly persistent in their attempts to touch--or worse--tug on his elegant plumes. Four thick feathers adorned his elbow, increasing in length towards the middle and shortening on the extremities. Darker greys dominated the tops, transitioning into a lighter shade near the base. His nape and tail feathers were speckled with the lighter, more lively pale grey that contrasted with the dark nuance of his straight horns and his piercing forest green eyes. White stripes adorned his shoulders and arms down to the elbow, completely disappearing into the resilient plates covering his neck, chest and belly and continuing down to the very tip of his tapered tail. While the rest of his body was an attractive mixture of various greys blending into each other, the scutes lining his avian feet were a dark, monotonous gray.

The cove opened up ahead of him, linked to the narrow strip of beach by a tiny portion of dry land at which the frothing waves hungrily lapped at. Illarion hugged the smooth wall of the cliff towering above him, doing his best to keep his feet away from the frozen water. Once he made it to the other side, he spotted Stormy's sprawled form, a dejected look plastered on his bowed head.

"What's the matter?" Illarion cut straight to the point, not one for small talk.

The leviathan perked up in an instant, the slits within his golden eyes shrinking into thin lines. "Illarion, you're here..."

His massive flippers stirred the colossal beast around, the dark claws tipping them quite intimidating in appearance, but much softer than expected, and quite dull from up-close.

"Everybody's leaving the Duskspeaker gulf. They swim to the warmer southern islands to follow the prey like the simpletons they are. There is enough food in the ocean already, yet none listens to me on these matters."

Illarion rubbed his chin in thought. At first, he wanted to tell Stormy the brutal truth, that his passive attitude wouldn't coerce anybody to stay with him behind for his sake. However, his crestfallen look, together with his splayed ears, stoked his sympathy for the lone creature who had tried--and failed--to find a mate since early summer.

"Perhaps you should turn your attention to the land dwellers instead of seeking the affection of your kind."

Stormy's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Land dwellers? But you're the only land dweller I know! Who could possibly wish to meet...me...?" His faltering tone emphasized his plight, that of a creature resigned with his fate.

Unless Illarion intervened. What he said before was a shot in the dark, but the more he pondered upon his suggestion, the more it began to tempt him. His village, like every other village on this side of the ocean, had gained the trust of a resident dragon called Zarizav. Though Illarion had yet to visit his lair, the dragon's needs were the concern of everybody in the village, most notable food, furs, and various trinkets that Zarizav fancied enough to deprive the villagers of them. There was, of course, another need, one that people discussed with hushed, wary voices, and nobody had even given thought to quenching that particular desire.

Nobody but Illarion. By securing Zarizav's prolonged alliance, he might actually have a shot at the position of mayor, and to finally be in charge of the welfare of his village. Yes. That might just work in the best interests of everybody.

"There is a winged dragon," Illarion finally said. "He lives in a nearby cave granted to him by my people, and only leaves it to hunt and stretch his wings. He seldom visits the village because his search is of a more...intimate nature."

The leviathan flicked his tail with growing interest, even though his head swerved left towards the menacing cliffs looming above him. "I'm grateful for your suggestion Illarion, but I...I've never been with a winged dragon, and never will."

Illarion's jaws set firmly upon one another, his talons drawing soft furrows through the sand. He needed to convince Stormy to accept his proposition, for the sake of everybody involved in this situation. Besides, loathe as the leviathan was to admit it, he did enjoy a firm, authoritative approach, one that Zarizav could--and would--definitely employ.

"You shouldn't pass an opportunity when it presents itself. Besides, Zarizav is a sensible dragon, one who is as calm and logical as I am. Should he prove too much to handle, I will simply step in and put an end to it all."

Obvious relief flooded over Stormy's serpentine body, his coils loosening visibly. "Oh, thanks goodness. At first, I believed you wanted to..." his gaze fled Illarion, the leviathan unable to say that one word while looking Illarion in the eye. "To pair me up with him."

That's exactly what you need, my dear friend, Illarion thought, but instead, he said, "Goodness gracious, where did that supposition come from? It is true that he's searching for a mate, but he is no mere beast to thrust himself into the first slit he finds."

Oh yes he was. Pent-up and irascible, the dragon would surely get under the leviathan's tail first chance he got, and Stormy, try as he might to deny his impulses, would enjoy it more than anything.

To further soothe his friend, Illarion strolled over to him, hands alighting on the sides of his angular muzzle to stroke the pebbly, light green scales. Stormy rumbled in delight, rubbing his cheek against Illarion's arm.

"So...he's going to be our mutual friend, right? Meaning that it's going to be three of us to share this cove, weave tales, and simply enjoy each other's presence."

A sly grin brightened Illarion's muzzle. "Yes. That is my exact intention."

His gaze travelled along Stormy's sinuous body, taking clear notes of his size and features. Should the unpredictable happen, the leviathan might have to subdue Zarizav, and his sleek body inspired nothing but confidence. Even on land, his tail had surprising mobility and impossible strength thanks to the muscles strewn underneath that green and grey hide. It concerned Illarion that, unlike him, Stormy's plates only covered his neck, smoothing into a soft gray belly much too vulnerable to fangs and claws alike.

Still, Stormy's best weapon was none other than his broad genital slit, the pink line marking its entrance much too tempting for a dragon who sought only release from the burden of his senses. A mere glance at that inviting crevice, and Zarizav would want nothing else but to spear right through it.

"I shall leave you now, but know that I shall return before light fades. Oh and, try not to panic if Zarizav arrives here first. Unlike me, he has actual wings. Entertain him for me, will you?"

Stormy gave him a weak nod in response, bringing his tail around to run his claws along his two-pronged tail tip.

On the way to Zarizav's lair, Illarion mulled over the efficacy of his plan. At best, Zarizav's dominant personality played off Stormy's mellower one, the contrast between them exhilarating for both dragon and leviathan. On the other hand, Zarizav might quickly become irascible at the sound of such outlandish request, and thus make his displeasure known through means that might border on the extreme side of things.

To Illarion, the gains outweighed the risks. Being a mayor meant more than just rank. He would abolish those nonsensical and unproductive traditions, keep the nets in the water until the first frost without worrying about the resident leviathan, forge a stronger pact with Zarizav and get the whole countryside rid of bandits through strategic, aerial ambushes.

But first, he needed to get a proud and possibly aggressive dragon to hear the merits of his plan by capitalizing on the one need that a whole village failed to provide.

The trail to Zarizav's lair was smoother and cleaner than Illarion expected, the hard packed ground flattened under the sheer weight of that scaly colossus. The mouth of the cavern looked none too impressive, its sides covered under a blanket of moss that began encroaching on the jagged edges.

"What do you want?" A rich, deep, imposing voice greeted Illarion as soon as he set foot onto the slope leading into a darkening corridor.

"I am here to offer you something," Illarion said, shuffling along the sheet of thickening ice covering the floor. His talons offered him a solid purchase on the slippery slab that never seemed to end, but the lack of stalagmites made his trek significantly more difficult. Why did the walls have to be so smooth, the ceiling so high, and this corridor so wide and uneven? What sort of creature would like to live in such icy, subterranean depths?

"Leave it at the entrance and leave."

"My offer is of a more exquisite nature, if you would but hear it."

The rustle of wings caught Illarion's attention, along with the distinct scraping of claws sliding along ice. From the corner right in front of him appeared a massive head crowned with long, smoothly curved azure claws. Rows of pristine white teeth greeted Illarion, along with an icy glare on a dark background that unnerved him, to say the least.

"Every offer that is relevant to my interests has already been heard and agreed upon. I wish to be disturbed no longer."

The wall etched with swirly, icy patterns swallowed that imposing head, along with the small horn tipping his muzzle. A sane person would have turned tail and make for the entrance, but Illarion's stubbornness was only outmatched by his diplomacy and tact. With a nonchalant gait, he strolled into the dragon's lair, his feet switching to an arctic bear pelt to muffle the stinging needles prickling at his toes.

"This disturbance is well worth the effort, as I have the one thing that not even a majestic dragon like you could find."

One of Zarizav's glacial eyes remained fixated on Illarion as the dragon settled himself atop a pile of fur neatly arranged into a circular bed. The thicker pelts made up the base of his bed, while the thinner, softer ones were laid out on top to polish his azure plates to a resplendent aspect no doubt. His forepaws settled on top of another, ears held parallel to his horns in utmost nonchalance, wings folded tight to his back. The bladed tail tip stole Illarion's breath for a split second, its menacing aspect, combined with its reach waking up an irrational panic within his breast.

"Speak."

Now came the hard part. Illarion swallowed to wet his dry throat, then shifted a hand through the feathers covering his nape to put on a placid façade for the dragon. Anybody confronted with such an unnerving specimen would feel the prickly touch of icy dread within their limbs, and the frozen cave in which Zarizav made his lair added to the unnerving circumstances.

"You have been spectacularly unsuccessful in your pursuit for a mate."

Zarizav's claws pressed tighter against the furs, wings shifting upon his back with ominous intent.

"Your noteworthy efforts are to be commended, and everybody in the village can attest to that. However, effort alone can not make up for the geographical location of your territory, namely its position. Dragons don't venture this far south, for the ocean is not the most hospitable place for your resplendent kind."

"If you are here to fulfill the role of a scholar, then you will be sorely disappointed to find out that I have no need for your lectures." Zarizav emphasized his point with a rumbling growl, akin to an avalanche threatening to sweep Illarion away.

"But you have need of relief," Illarion pointed out, stretching a hand forth in cordial invitation for Zarizav to accept his proposition.

"I am a male myself, one whose hands are not nearly as soft as your paws," he mentioned in passing as he eyed the thick, light grey leather pads lining his feet, "One whose anatomy forbids me from taking myself in my mouth."

"Enough!" Zarizav hissed, a chilling gust crashing against Illarion, forcing him to stumble back a step. The dragon lifted himself onto his fours, his gaze bearing down on Illarion with the authority of fate itself. "You have a way with words, little one, but reminding me of my perpetual solitude is the worst thing one can do."

Illarion straightened his back, adopting his formal stance once again in spite of the frosty gusts leaving Zarizav's nostrils with every breath. "That is what I am here for. To put an end to your emotional turmoil."

Though the dragon opened his maw to say something, he quickly snapped his jaws shut, cocking his head at Illarion's proposition.

Yes. That was what he had been waiting for. That spark of longing in Zarizav's eyes, that distant, wistful gaze as he briefly recalled how it felt to mate another but his paw and maw. With the final piece of the puzzle fallen into its rightful place, Illarion explained to Zarizav who Stormy was, his predicament, along with his borderline desperate desire to mate with a strong, virile male before he would leave for the warmer climate of the southern islands.

Sure, Illarion did not convey the full truth, but did he really have to? Sometimes, friendship required a stern approach to snap an idealistic leviathan out of his apathy. Given Stormy's pace of handling things, chances were that he would never find a mate due to his lax attitude, but Zarizav....Zarizav might just give him the proper push off his comfortable ledge and into the ocean of possibilities that awaited for him, should he but swim into it.

Armed with the intimate knowledge of Stormy's personality, as well as Zarizav's crave for relief, Illarion kept his head high on the way back to the Feathersong Cove. Zarizav insisted to mull over his proposition before taking a decision, but the feathered dragon had no doubt that instinct triumphed over logic in Zarizav's case.

To his great relief, Zarizav already flew to the cove, his dark silhouette standing out against the bleak browns of the sand and surrounding cliffs. To his growing horror, Illarion realized that Zarizav circled Stormy like a predator stalking his prey, the anxious leviathan twisting his head this way and that to keep a close watch on those unfurled wings and menacing tail tip.

Though his stomach knotted due to nerves on his way to Stormy, Illarion chose to remain silent and let the two make their decisions. After all, his task merely required him to bring them together, and bring them together, he did.

Of course, Illarion didn't quite expect such stiffness, such rigidity from Stormy, let alone Zarizav's intense, predatory gaze. They were supposed to be friends, yet all Zarizav had eyes for was the thin dash of pink marking Stormy's gender.

The leviathan tensed up, his visible shudder rocking the entirety of his frame when Zarizav finally made his first move. His snout pushed Stormy's tail tip away to expose his genitals, flared nostrils taking in his sharp, delightful fragrance. His tongue followed suit to taste the ripe offering, an action so sudden Stormy yelped in fright.

"Don't be so tense," Zarizav purred, satisfaction oozing from his smooth, cultivated voice. "I'm simply getting to know you."

"This isn't the sort of greeting I am used to..." Stormy stammered, his desperate gaze finally settling on Illarion, those widened pupils begging him to put a stop to this nonsense.

Yet Illarion couldn't do that, for Zarizav did nothing wrong.

"It's considered a sign of affection among dragons to lick each other's vulnerable parts." Zarizav backed up his words with a tentative stroke along Stormy's slit, his tongue tip slithering inside to catch a stronger taste. "Actions define us, not words, and a tongue soothes everything."

"I'm...not so sure about that..." Stormy whined, unaccustomed to being handled in such crude, visceral ways.

Illarion's heart clenched at the sight of Stormy's wide eyes, at the panic written all over his face.

He's simply licking your slit. Don't act so coy, you serpentine brat, Illarion thought, even though his hands balled into fists to restrain his desire to intervene. While Zarizav feasted on the leviathan's exposed slit, his black malehood slowly began to reveal itself, its growing girth a stark contrast with the blue plates of his belly.

The bigger it grew, the further Illarion's stomach sank. What if Zarizav was simply too big for Stormy? His confidence in his plan began to falter with every thudding beat in his chest, the feathered dragon positive that something could go wrong in the blink of an eye.

"You smell...mrr...so good," Zarizav grumbled with that smooth, imposing tone of his, his dark colored tongue lapping at Stormy's dainty entrance with broad, hungry strokes. The leviathan's tail coiled in around itself, whimpers of pleasure--or panic--creeping out of his half opened mouth.

"I want more, little serpent."

Without even waiting for Stormy's approval, Zarizav's paws latched onto the fins flanking Stormy's genital area, his thumbs prying open Stormy's entrance to reveal his fleshy depths. Illarion found it odd that his friend's erection had yet to show up. His own twin shafts began to peek out, stimulated by the lewd squelches of that nimble tongue, by the furrows lining the insides of Stormy's outstretched walls.

"That looks tighter than I expected. Hrrr...will become even tighter once your little malehood shows itself."

As if on cue, Zarizav pressed his snout against Stormy's slit, shoving his whole tongue inside the leviathan's private sanctuary. A sharp wail burst from his throat, interrupted by a rasping growl as he tried to wriggle himself free of Zarizav's hold.

"Too...too fast," Stormy whimpered, his sweet, innocent voice drowned in the thunderous growl of Zarizav's emerging lust. "I think we should...get to know each other better before awwwwwrrrrrrr."

A sly smirk appeared on the corner of Illarion's mouth, the victory he had been waiting all along heralded by Stormy's scrunched muzzle, by his half-lidded eyes that could barely cope with the pleasure provided by a tongue coiled around his malehood. Eager to taste the exotic creature, Zarizav suckled on Stormy's tapered, prehensile member, the leviathan's aqueous precum dribbling down his chin one droplet at a time.

Just when Illarion thought that things finally settled between Stormy and Zarizav, the blue and black dragon spat out Stormy's half erect member, whipping his head back to unleash an earsplitting roar. Stormy trembled like an eel that was washed ashore, while an icy jolt shocked Illarion to his senses.

What the bloody hell was he thinking? That was a wild, unpredictable dragon that he brought to his friend, and that roar sounded very much akin to the sort of possessive cry dragons bellowed once they found a worthy mate. To make it worse, Stormy's shaft already began creeping out of its den, the thinning tip wriggling around in search of a proper hole to plunge itself in.

Instead, it was Zarizav who buried the wriggling flesh back from whence it came.

The dragon unfurled its massive wings, their blue and black membrane casting the entirety of Stormy's form in their shadow. That bladed tail tip slammed down on top of Stormy's smoother and more elegant tail to hold it in place while Zarizav reared onto his hind legs, forelegs pressing onto Stormy's back to pin him down in that defenseless position while his massive shaft squeezed itself into Stormy's slit, along with the leviathan's own half-erect member.

Illarion jaw dropped. His heart skipped a beat at what might very well be the most erotic, if perhaps a tad disturbing, moment of his life. Stormy would have protested, had he the voice to do so, but his friend was too busy screeching his throat raw from the sheer pleasure of being filled to the brim. Just like in Illarion's case, Stormy had never dreamed of being taken in quite this rough, abrupt way, to be so thoroughly claimed by the massive beast looming above him.

The leviathan's sleek body quivered under Zarizav's slow, calculated thrusts, his mighty flippers lifting him off the ground ever so slowly so that he could push his slit against Zarizav, thus making his desire to be bred known. On his end, Zarizav simply seemed content to find himself lodged inside something else other than a paw or a maw, something tight, wet and shuddering which begged him to keep up the pace of the mating.

Stormy's head jerked upwards at every thrust, knocking against the chin of the hissing dragon mounted atop him.

"Stay put," Zarizav commanded, his claw tips squeezing tighter against Stormy's hide.

"If...if you could but pull out for just a moment..."

Zarizav responded to that request by hilting three quarters of himself into Stormy, his bulbous knot threatening to force itself in through the already overstretched vent, his lustful growl climbing an octave higher from that mere stroke.

Every muscle in Illarion's body turned taut in panic at that. Unable to sit idle while his friend was forced to deal with a horny beast all by himself, the feathered dragon strolled over to the rocking pair, his gait made unnecessarily awkward by his bobbing members. He grabbed each of them in a hand to prevent their lurching motions and, once he reached Zarizav's privates, he eased a hand onto his knot to make sure that monstrous thing wouldn't go inside Stormy unless he specifically requested it.

A massive shudder quaked Zarizav. The dragon swerved his head back to Illarion, snarling his full blown irritation at his interference.

"Get your hand off me."

"My hand is fine where it is," Illarion replied while holding Zarizav's chilling glare. The dragon must have seen something in his eyes, the burning determination to safeguard his serpentine friend, or perhaps Illarion's defiance simply puzzled a creature like him, accustomed to having things his way.

Or maybe he simply enjoys my touch, Illarion thought. He had to admit that holding a winged dragon by the knot felt vastly empowering. Though rock-hard, that flesh was the most sensitive part of Zarizav's shaft, and from up close, it became increasingly apparent to Illarion that the bulbous base simply wouldn't fit into a slit already laden with two cocks.

To help make things more enjoyable for Zarizav, Illarion cupped his knot between his palms, fondling it at first, then adding a gradual squeeze, the artificial pressure making Zarizav's limbs tremble from the sheer euphoria brought by a shrewd dragon's ministrations.

Stormy no longer moaned. His tail completely coiled around Zarizav's, the leviathan's head now perked to receive Zarizav's licks upon his brow, his half-closed eyes glazed by pure bliss. One of Zarizav's hind paws found purchase on top of Stormy's back, the leviathan hoisting his muscular lower body several inches into the air to better accommodate Zarizav.

Although Stormy barely took a dozen thrusts, his genital slit already leaked a constant stream of precum supplied by both of the mating partners. With his grip on Zarizav's knot secured, Illarion lowered himself onto the ground, positioning his groin right above Stormy's slit so that the trickle of precum pelted his two shafts. Lukewarm, translucent and more slippery than he expected, Illarion took a hand off Zarizav's knot smear the product of their arousal over both of his shafts, groaning in satisfaction at how good that film of lubrication felt on his vulnerable flesh.

It felt delightfully taboo, to find himself in such privileged position. Most of the people in his village had yet to even catch a glimpse of Zarizav, let alone stay in his presence. Illarion achieved more than this. He stared right at the dragon's cock, his inflated knot inches above his head, his fluid-smeared shaft pumping itself in and out of Stormy with utter abandon. With every thrust, more dragon musk wafted past Stormy's trembling vent, the aromatic fragrance alluring in its exotic touch.

Illarion couldn't help himself. He had to taste it, not only smell it, and a film of glistening precum already dressed most of Zarizav's cock. Surely he wouldn't mind a brief tongue stroke on his cock, right?

"Rrrarrrr!" Zarizav protested, his tongue retreating into his mouth to paint a convincing snarl. "Keep your tongue where it belongs."

Illarion chose to ignore the dragon's ominous warning as he continued lapping at his knot, curling his tongue around the meaty formations now and then while offering Zarizav sly, elegant glances from the corner of his eye.

At first, Zarizav wished to further rebel against the demeaning act, but his snarl already waned, replaced by a look of genuine surprise. Being the stereotypical winged dragon, he must have expected every anthro to cower at the mere sight of him. Illarion not only defied him, but licked at that rigid, oversized shaft, the most private part a dragon like Zarizav could flaunt. No stranger had the right to touch such intimate part of his body, yet here they all were, for better or worse.

Pleasure soon overrode Zarizav's aggression, his hiss becoming a deep, satisfied thrum. The toes of the hind paw propped atop Stormy began to knead at the leviathan's muscle, and his black tongue returned upon Stormy's muzzle to show his appreciation with such well-behaved, submissive mate.

On his end, Stormy did his best to keep his louder moans in check. The poor thing must have feared that his early climax might upset his mate, but panic alone could not stem the euphoric tide that threatened to engulf the leviathan's senses.

Feeling their climax approach from their scrunched muzzles, as well as Stormy's quivering vent, Illarion let go of Zarizav's knot, both hands clasped around his member, stroking them in the same rhythm imposed by Zarizav. The quicker and harder the dragon shoved himself inside Stormy, the heftier Illarion's strokes turned.

From the two of them, Stormy was the first to give in. At the height of his peak, the leviathan lifted himself even higher into the air, his coils tightening visibly around Zarizav's tail base, his outstretched vent overtaken by visible spasms. His eyes screwed shut, a sharp yowl shooting past his half-opened maw, so sharp Illarion had to cover his ears for a moment. Zarizav's roar joined the climactic cacophony shortly, his eyes wide, hind leg skipping around as his balance wavered. At first, Illarion believed that Zarizav's orgasm hit him as hard as it did the leviathan, but the reason became apparent in the next second.

Left with no room to grow, Stormy's half erect member popped out of his slit with such force it slapped Illarion's face full of thick, creamy, briny seed. In the same instant, the seed of both dragons exploded out of Stormy's genital vent, the extra room left by Zarizav's retreating member allowing Stormy's erection to finally develop. For Stormy, that must have felt truly wonderful. In Illarion's case, it meant a snout drenched in seed, with two still squirting cocks awkwardly draped all over his face, painting his chest white with their impressive load.

While caught in that surreal moment, Illarion wanted nothing more than to experience the same pleasure that fettered the two in its clutches, rattling them to their very bone with its overpowering touch. With the musky scent of seed deep into his nostrils and its tangy musk fresh upon his tongue, Illarion required only a couple of strokes to shoot his own seed from both of his shafts, his orgasm so strong his vision began to flicker.

That felt...dazzling. Illarion had no better word to describe this otherworldly experience, in which a leviathan's prehensile shaft wiggled against his muzzle while a dragon's enormous erection rested atop his shoulder, leaking its last few remnants of virility.

His seed spent, Zarizav dismounted Stormy, his tongue rolling about his muzzle as he stared at his slit with a dreamy look. Illarion considered slapping his haunch and make an uncouth remark, but his afterglow left him too stiff, too satisfied to twitch as much as a finger.

Bloody hell...did this end on a most surprising note!

** ***THE END*****

End note: Surprising ending, wasn't it? My favorite part is where Zarizav stuffs back Stormy's cock from whence it came. That was freaking brilliant and fit this situation so well! What was your favorite part in all this lewd mayhem? Share your thoughts with me please!

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