Rite of Adulthood
This is a story+art collab that Nulkurrak did with
dragonwise
Description: In wild dragon families, it is tradition for the mother to help recently matured males understand their sexuality. Such is the case of Verenar, an ambitious young dragon who wishes to strike out into the world, but not before his mother Lethandra ensures that his seed is fitting enough to fulfill its designated purpose.
Verenar(c) belongs to Nulkurrak
Lethandra(c) belongs to dragonwise
Cover artwork done by: https://www.furaffinity.net/user/anastasiyavb/
***Rite of Adulthood***
Her back, arched with an elegant curve that hoisted her rump high in the air while her forelegs bowed so low that her elbows kissed the blades of grass, emphasized her intentions better than her words ever could. She did not want him to see her as his mother for this final lesson. Right now, to him, she wished to merely be a female.
"This will be your shortest lesson yet," she sought to reassure him with both words and her warm, leaf-green gaze. "And it will feel more satisfying than any meat you have ever tasted, richer than any pleasure you have experienced, and more fulfilling than any affection previously savored."
Verenar remained rooted in place, aware of the necessity of fulfilling this wild dragon tradition yet ever doubtful. He always dreamed of conquering his first female rather than her surrendering to him, and Lethandra knew that.
Seeking to further encourage him that she ought to test his seed before he set out on his own, his mother approached him. The warmth of her tongue, combined with her stronger and more enchanting smell from up close, made Verenar's cock jolt with want, sending it against his softer underbelly scales. Although he stifled his whine in time to keep it as soft as possible, Lethandra already heard it, and without checking the state of his member, she resumed her tantalizing position, presenting him a second time with her slick, ready entrance.
"Breathe in my scent," she advised, her rosy lips shuddering with the same longing that throbbed through his member as she spoke. "It will enflame your instinct and guide you better than I can."
Although reluctance warned him against this course of action and pride still begged him to fight for a female before claiming one, Verenar felt himself drawn to Lethandra by an eerie, inexplicable tendril. It was as if her very tail coiled around his neck, pulling his snout closer and closer to her exposed lips, the scent oozing from her crevice so intoxicating Verenar pressed his snout against her soggy crevice to breath it in straight from the source.
"Mrrrrrhhhhhm," a deep, almost primordial growl ignited to life within his throat, her heavy aroma making him reel from its sheer intricacy. She smelled of raw desire and tasted as strong as her unyielding personality, a strange and all-consuming concoction that forced Verenar to pull his wet snout back and roar his claim over this female before he mounted her.
It all happened in a haze. One moment, he breathed in her pheromone-laden fragrance, and the next, he had his stomach secured against the arch of her back, with his haunches enclosed around her lither ones. Lethandra did not remain idle either. She wove her tail under his, coiling around it like an eel, pulling on it lightly as she lowered her body further, smooth hide gliding over his throbbing shaft until her lips kissed his tip.
As soon as Verenar tasted the warm, slick softness of a female eager to receive him against his most sensitive part, Verenar's body betrayed him. Instead of a slow, calculated thrust meant to slowly adapt his greatly thinned endurance to the confines of heat-struck nether depths, the lust-crazed male plunged his painfully erect cock all the way into Lethandra, both dragons crying in unison from the great and unexpected pleasure that flooded them. Verenar's eyes immediately squeezed shut, hind legs trembling with the effort to cage in that deeply rooted and perverse desire of shooting his pent-up, burdening seed into a female, claws leaving their sheaths to tear gashes into the to ensure that he remained upon her back and more importantly, inside her.
Supportive, encouraging and equally eager to explore this most potent of pleasures together with her recently matured son before he left her nest, Lethandra nuzzled and licked the underside of his snout and jaw, whining sweetly into his ear while she rubbed her cheek against him.
"Thrust. Work yourself up. And when you feel like you can no longer hold your seed in anymore, plunge yourself into me down to the last ridge, so that my depth engulf the entirety of your shaft."
Her words jumbled in his strained mind, all of his focus shrunk to that tight, unbearably blissful and shuddering tunnel that tugged at his barbs and caressed his ridges in far more vivid ways than he ever anticipated. It was as if her very flesh pulsed with the singular desire to be filled, an ancient and overpowering thirst that entrapped every vulnerable inch of Verenar's shaft. His heart fluttering with ecstasy and dread alike at how his body felt on the verge of imploding with inner heat, Verenar stretched his hind legs as far as he could to completely remove himself from his mother's maddening grip and savor a moment of respite, only to whine and whimper in unbridled euphoria. No matter the direction of the movement, every motion, slow or rapid, short or long, stimulated the various features of his shaft, reminding Verenar of their purpose in the most eloquent of ways.
To bring him to climax as quickly as possible and secure his legacy before something interfered.
His breath stuck in his throat and overcome with nigh unbearable urge to fulfill the pledge of their union, Verenar's hind leg instinctively settled on Lethandra's haunch, his toes clenching tight, possessive claws biting into her scaleless yet thick hide to secure his hold onto his female. He made it halfway out, according to the biting cold that battered the ridges lining his base, each dripping with Lethandra's moderately thick and copious arousal, but half of him still remained inside. Her depths still quaked and trembled around his overly sensitive tip, her sizzling warmth still smothered him, and the caress of her tongue never ceased to remind him of how well he did.
"Don't fight against your instinct. Let it flow through you. Allow it to carry you to the peak of the most sacred of pleasures."
Her last words triggered a great and all-consuming longing within him, unlocking a side of him that Verenar never knew existed. Against his will and counter to everything he tried to achieve by visiting his mother one final time, the exhausted male drove himself all the way into his mate, whining in blissful relief for finally fulfilling his preordained purpose. Beneath the drowning waves of impending climax, a portion of him still roared to let go of her frame, withdraw, and preserve his seed for his future mate, but the ubiquitous wetness of Lethandra's sex sealed it shut and her clamping muscles crushed it into nothingness until all that remained was the overpowering need to finally cum.
As if to fully exploit his last few seconds of clarity, Verenar embraced the choice of his lust-addled mind by working a few sloppy, jerky thrusts into Lethandra's dripping, squelching nethers. The nubs lining the underside of his member coaxed forth stronger and more demanding shudders of her tunnel while the ridges embellishing the sides near the end of his shaft caressed her swollen lips, making her bury her claws in the ground in sheer delight. However, it was the blunt barbs protruding from the back of his spade-like tip that satisfied his mate the most. Their pointy form tugged and scratched at the her overly smooth flesh, stroking it so effectively that Lethandra gutturally moaned and bit at his neck softly and rapidly, her cries growing sharper and more desperate with each clamping motion of her vent.
Deep creases formed along Verenar's snout, lips pulling into an instinctive snarl as he felt his cock hugged from all sides. The frequency of the motions, together with the varied strength of her contractions, caused his seed to erupt out of him without a warning. Sharp, thin, abrupt cries left his shuddering maw, his body trembling from every joint while his thick seed burst out of him in snappy, sudden bursts, each richer and more intense than the latter.
Lethandra's softer yowl merely added to his entrapping euphoria, the claws of his hind paws hooking into her haunch with all their might to ensure that his cock remained fully hilted inside her while wave after wave of hot, pent-up seed lanced into her, pelting her quaking walls, increasing the frequency of her shudders. He only managed to breathe through short gasps, tears starting to flow down the pebbly scales of his face as his tongue turned limper and limper, until it lolled ungainly out of his mouth. Although the jolts wracking his overly stiff shaft began to die down, the might of the jets traveling down his shaft and exploding into Lethandra felt as demanding as ever, his essence so abundant, thick and rich that it felt unbearably hot to his young, virgin member.
"Release it all, my darling," Lethandra crooned. "Unburden yourself of all your frustrations within me."
Her head leaned against his throat, the dragoness sought to calm his ragged, exhausted self with sluggish licks, the warmth of her tongue as blissful as the last electrifying remnants of his orgasm. After three slow, final spurts, Verenar's elation lessened enough to allow a long, drawn-out exhale, followed by a sharp, much-needed breath of fresh air. Whimpering moans that he was too exhausted to block made their way through his throat, a mellow serenade that coaxed forth Lethandra's warm, calming purr.
Verenar's head felt so light and his body so weak that the young dragon remained limp atop his dragoness, her now still depths warm and pleasant around his softening shaft. So fulfilled and at peace he became while pampered by his mother's affection that he would have fallen asleep on top of her, had his member not flopped out of her. The jolt accompanying that jarring sensation surprised him to such degree that he tripped and fell on his side while trying to dismount her much to Lethandra's amusement.
"It is natural to feel empty. You did, after all, unload the entirety of your essence into me," she said, settling next to him despite the uneven rivulets of thick, virgin seed trickling down her rear. "Close your eyes. Rest. It is tradition."
Her forepaw glided over his, stroking him reassuringly while her tongue bathed his throat with the comforting affection that always lulled him to sleep. His final image of Lethandra before his heavy eyelids betrayed him was her neck curling around to reach for her nethers, along with the soft, wet noise of a lick and a few murmuring words.
"Strong, rich and deeply fertile. He brings me such pride..."
***The end***
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