A quiet moan
This is a short story Nulkurrak has written for TastyWyrm
Description: Ravaged by heat-induced lust, Khrynia seeks escape from her solitude within her mind, conjuring an intimate scenario best suited to fulfill her fantasies.
Arvoran belongs to me
Khrynia belongs to https://www.furaffinity.net/user/tastywyrm/
***A Quiet Moan***
The signs of an early winter were all around Khrynia. Grey skies greeted her in the morning, tenebrous and unwelcoming. Cold winds whooshed through the entrance of her lair, sprinkling the lilac fur of her coat with crystalline beads of condensed chill. Outside, the soil hardened into a block of stone, layered with a thin blanket of frost every morning.
Nobody but hermits and outcasts lived high in the mountains, competing with starving wolves for the scant prey hiding within the dense woods of towering pines and firs. If she roused early, when light emerged on the horizon, she could stalk a brave buck or a foolhardy four-horned mountain goat down on the plateau opening at the base of the cliffs. There were bushes aplenty, some tall and thick enough to conceal even the form of a dragon.
Matters of the stomach were not the reason the dragoness set out early today. Her underbelly soaked with the remnants of last night's dream, Khrynia made for the bleak, grey expanse greeting her on the ledge of her temporary home, a small cavern lodged between two jagged cliffs. A trail of pattering musk followed her everywhere she went, the gooey snakes slithering down her puffy folds not nearly as bothersome as the need throbbing deep within her.
Arvoran. That inept, tongue-tied whelp. He did this to her, worming his way into her head, poisoning it with thoughts of blessed relief from the constant ache of her empty, clenching insides. She barely remembered the reason of their encounter, her focus centered on a specific detail creeping its way through the wan scales of his underbelly.
Heat did that to females; it stole their reason, replacing it with reprehensible urges that had no rhythm, no logic, no trigger to them. The first scaled male that crossed her way after her confusing separation from her first and earliest of loves, and the only detail still bright in her mind were the features tipping the arch of his cock tip. Like the flurry of spikes fanning outward from his jaws, the fleshy nubs crowning his tip had a satisfying heft to them; an arousing rigidity perfect for scraping off the film of itchy, mucous arousal coating the insides of her vent.
The short flight down to the grove at the base of the mountains cooled off some of her rampant emotions, settling her agitated heart into a calmer, steadier rhythm. She had never felt quite like that before, antsy and flustered after an erotic dream, her head adrift in a sea of emotions she knew to be impulsive, irrational, pointless. Perhaps this heat finally broke through her defenses, a keen reminder of what its fourth arrival did to a female who had yet to receive a male inside her throughout its duration. It had been so long, in fact, that Khrynia almost forgot how seed felt inside her, the memory of its warmth all but snuffed out.
Though the details of his body were as hazy as the curtain of mist hanging on the horizon, she could clearly recall his demeanor. Stiff, tense, steps heavy and uncertain. This male exuded the inexperience of youth, charming in its novelty. He bothered not conceal this weakness of his, acceptant of it, confident in every way but the one that mattered most: interacting with a fellow dragon. That sort of perplexing behavior tugged at Khrynia's interest enough to lend him a temporary den in her territory. An attentive host, she couldn't possibly start her day without checking the thicket in which she left him, if only to ensure that trouble did not find him.
Within the humid shadow of overhanging boughs, khrynia discovered a treasure. A present only she could unwrap with the faint memory of his scent. The closer she got to it, the brighter the flutter within her stomach churned.
She never imagined it would be this much or smell so raw hours after it left his cock. Her perception of the male climax relied on gathered knowledge, simple and to the point. Spurred by the wet, embracing warmth of a female's clasping walls, males only ejaculated their entire load into a female. The rest was just a teasing trickle, meant to eliminate the refuse in order to keep their seed healthy.
The coagulated seed of Arvoran provided keen insight into this. Most of it clumped into a puddle, leaked by his lazy spurts during sleep. A few strings of it shot impressively far, likely during the initial burst when he imagined his whole shaft embraced by wet, powerful muscles. More stimulating than the visual imagery was the scent. Harsh, heavy, bearing the musk and thickness of youth, this was the seed of a male who preserved himself for a female, disinterested in alternative means of milking himself. Khrynia could almost taste the long, pressing solitude in his tangy aroma, so pungent and intense it drew wrinkles across her entire muzzle.
All this seed, wasted... It was infantile to feel bitter over it, but melancholy often struck Khrynia whenever her ambitions were shattered.
"Hrrrh..." the dragoness growled her spite at Arvoran's deplorable impotence, fluttering her wings to blow his captivating aroma away from her flared, interested nostrils. Young. Over-eager to explore his first female. Scaled. This last fact irritated her the most, for too few were the males fitting this criteria. What were the odds, to happen upon such specimen during her greatest time of need, only for him to give up on the struggle of withholding his seed so close to her lair?
Too angry to bury his shame under a pile of twigs snapped from the nearby trees, Khrynia made for her lair. Now that reality immeasurably disappointed her, the fantasy was all that she had left. In her mind, Arvoran insisted to follow her home, finding appropriate ways to charm his way past her reluctance in dabbling with strangers. Instead of ejaculating that heavy seed thickened by arousing solitude, the tip of his half-erect cock bulged with it, preserving it for the vent of a furred female where it would fail to find purchase.
Khrynia tried to focus on preserving that image of his while her paws met the slick surface of her cavern, clawing at the film of ice coating the rock in her rush to flop down into her bed. The earlier encounter with Arvoran's splattered essence confounded her mind; it flared the intensity of throbs pulsing through her canal, shrouding hunger and thirst beneath the urgency of fulfilling a pressing need in the only way she knew how.
Position always mattered for this type of intimate pleasure. Lounging on her side, nestled amidst furs and pillows borrowed from her former home, Khrynia often preferred to start by hugging soft plumpness to her chest. Anxious paws kneaded at the satin surface of the pillow, snagging on the whimsical patterns embroidering it, substituting it for the scaled neck of Arvoran. A final, needy sigh left her prior to closing her eyes, letting the parting of her legs commence the vivid dream conjured for the purpose of elevating her already demanding state of arousal.
"Mrrrrrmmmm," Khrynia's rough, guttural purr echoed off the walls of her den, bestowing it with frightening intensity. She so relished the intuitive type of male, so quick to react to her alluring call one way or the other. Arvoran's personality painted him as the uncertain type, so in the scenario outlined in her head, he had his crest folded above a wavering gaze laced with doubt.
"Aren't you scaled types indifferent to the slime spread across my bedding?" Khrynia's spoken words often added to the eroticism of her private sessions. "Not that you wouldn't add yours to it. I don't see that member of yours slipping back inside without emptying it of all that it holds."
The rustle of her tongue wetting her furred lips marked Arvoran's lapse. It gave her the space to beguilingly wriggle within the expanse of fine furs dotted with pillows of all shapes and sizes, her sweeping tail creating proper room for the drake to walk over to her parted haunches.
Khrynia's breath shivered. The toes of her hind paws curled inward, sinking ebony claws into the mauve fluff tipping her tail as she shifted it in front of her vent, covering its sight. This was her favorite part; the main reason she practiced her seductiveness while spurred by wanton thoughts. It both prepared her for a future encounter with a male, and filled her with giddy novelty, bringing her closer to the main event.
"Awwwrh..." a quiet moan fled past the agape jaws of the dragoness. No longer were they able to contain her lustful huffs amidst the turmoil of her increasing shudders, letting them pour unbidden while she pictured Arvoran's snout inches above her vent. Reaching for the darkened patch soaked with pungent slime for the first time, the male's fierce snarl contoured an accurate image of just how badly he wanted her, adorned with all the telltale signs of virginity. Transfixed glare, humping hips thrusting his member at bare air ever so subtly, a snarl as fierce as one can manage, filled by feral craving.
It was time. The strong spasm originating from her sex rocked her entire body, ruffling feathers and fur alike, turning her hide all tingly and sensitive. Khrynia swatted the pillow she hugged aside, emptying her forepaws, flexing their toes in anticipation of what followed. The puffed-up lips of her sex almost tickled from the initial contact of pads gliding over their heated surface, the wave of pleasure gradually filling up her belly registering only a moment after.
"Grawwwrhhh!" The dragoness' melancholic moan carried the graver tone of solitude, a truth reflected within the engorged state of her mound. The entire isle surrounding her entrance radiated heat, the skin beneath it impossibly tender. Insisting on the furred portions drenched in stale and fresh juices alike felt akin to paw tickles, so Khrynia's toes hovered back to the cleft of her sex, trailing their tips over the protruding lips of her prominent slit.
Continuity didn't matter any longer. Whereas Arvoran inhaled her choking miasma just moments ago, he now towered over her, casting his imposing shadow over her splayed, welcoming body thirsting for the kiss of scales against fur. She imagined it was his hind paw, not hers, toying with the plumpness of her folds, squeezing, even pinching them between two toes, drawing a sharp, hissing cry. In retribution, Khrynia snapped at stale, musk-scented air, the heaviness of her head immediately lulling her back to the valley formed by the edges of three joint pillows.
That was reckless of him. She'd have left her bloodied mark on his throat, had her senses not blanked, dizzied by the sharp bite of encroaching climax. It should have hurt, but instead, her flesh throbbed for more, now hungry for more than just mellow prelude. After a sharp breath meant to tame the restlessness of an early and unsatisfying orgasm, Khrynia's motions picked up. No longer did just the tips of her toes play with the smooth, pulsing flesh peeking past clumped, messy fur. The entirety of her paw now cupped her sex, sliding the wider, broader pad back and forth across cleft, then shifting the motions from left to right and right to left.
Arvoran did not even make an appearance any longer. The sanctity of this moment forbade him from invading her privacy. He'd plunge his satisfying thickness into her all the way through, but instead of keeping the pumping motions going, he'd freeze, yowl, and squirt whatever reserves of seed remained after last night's mishap.
Better to rely on herself; to revel in the familiarity of her paw, setting a rhythm perfect for her needs. Khrynia arched her spine, pumping her hips upward against the kneading grip of her toe pads. While one forepaw, soggy with her bubbly juices worked into a frothing mess from the frenzy of movement, kept her senses hovering on the edge of madness, the other kneaded and combed through the violet strands of smooth fur lining her throat and belly. It was a purposeless effort, adding nothing to the mounting pressure beginning to gather within the depths of her clenching tunnel. Still, she couldn't prevent it no matter how hard she tried, for it was as deeply ingrained within her as the need to rub, stroke, fondle her vent in every way imaginable.
"Khhhrrr...." The dragoness' deep, strained thrill worked its way up her throat just as fresh rivulets of strong-scented juices greeted her pads. Their warmth surpassed the dimmer one present within her toes, as if fire itself poured out of her. Spreading it over her mound felt as satisfying as the gentle groping of her flushed lips, more so when her perked ears hungrily absorbed the lewd squelching involved in the process.
She smelled so rough, so...coarse. An enveloping reek of vivid melancholy surrounded her, staining the entirety of her lair with the shameful mark of solitude.
Khrynia minded it not one bit, forsaking the propriety of her kind within the farthest reaches of her mind while working her throbbing vent into the final stages of her private rite. This last part always required hunching forward so that her haunches almost embraced her head, all so that her forepaws, trembling with ecstasy, could deliver expected stimulation.
"Mrr...mrawh...." Snappy, fatigued whines fled her maw along with the sporadic huffs. The orderly caresses, gropes and squeezes lost their coordination, falling into disorderly jerks, flicks and rabid rubs of her poking folds. Having learned her lesson from what the insertion of claws, however shallow, led to while her paws shook from the flooding ecstasy amassing within her, Khrynia abused her fleshy bits. Harder, stronger, faster, both forepaws unceremoniously slid and stroked and ruffled the fur of her mound, fueling the shudders wracking her sex into a euphoric avalanche.
"Hawwwwrrrrr!" Khrynia's howl bounced off the walls of her home, ricocheting right back into her ears. Her sex safeguarded by the pads pressing against it, the dragoness' toes curled inward to clutch her mound, the sting of claws biting into never failing to trigger her thickest, heaviest of squirts.
That was just the start of the deluge. Prompted by the spasms originating from deep within her canal, several more spurts followed in quick succession, each of them attuned to the frenzied beats of her pounding heart. Her paw trembled as it tried to contain them, only they were too mighty for mere pads to block them. Bursting through the gaps of her toes, Khrynia's juices splattered where she least wanted them to, soaking into impossible to clean furs. A worthless frustration, small and insignificant during the height of climax.
Pulses of enkindling warmth radiated from the bottom of her belly, spreading outward into muscles, bones and sinews, wrapping the entirety of her form within the embrace of perfect harmony. Orgasms always felt like that to Khynia, wide and liberating, a celebration of how her body loosed the vile temptation entrapped within so that her senses could soar unshackled by the whims of flesh.
"Mhharrrff...." The finality of the dragoness' sojourn within the realm of ubiquitous bliss came with a weary sigh. A few strokes of her vulva tried to work a few more molten sparks into her depleted mound, but her pads found her lips still, silent, bereft of their previous vitality. A nagging hollowness persisted deep into her tunnel, where strong, hungry muscles still tightened and loosened, milking a male that wasn't there.
Who would that be? Arvoran?
Khrynia let out a wry chuckle as she brought her right, messiest forepaw over to her muzzle. It stank of entrancing loneliness, the claws, pads, fur glazed by cloudy discharge. She learned to tolerate its taste, if not to enjoy it, no longer bothered by the spicy, fragrant undertones shrouded within layers of intricate, zesty flavors. Every dragoness' heat tasted different. Hers alluded to cinnamon, or so the odd human she had encountered during a former heat described it to her, whatever that meant.
"How will you find it, Arvoran?" Khrynia said to herself, a sly smirk emerging on the edges of her muzzle as her tongue playfully slipped between her toes. "Will it taste better for you? Will it drive you mad with desire, enough to coax your seed out without even sampling the warmth of my folds?"
Her words shuddered towards the end, rocked by the picking shudders of her sex. She could go for a second time, this time accompanied by the persistent image of Arvoran delighting her in all the ways still foreign to him.
"No. Not again. Not when I can have the real thing." Khrynia lounged back, twirling the fur at the bottom of her neck between her toes while dwelling on her first encounter with Arvoran. She craved inexperience. She yearned for the unpredictability of an over-eager virgin, more so when his seed could flood her without posing any threat of swelling her belly.
***The End***
Thanks so much for reading this story! If you enjoyed it, please give it a fav and a watch to subscribe to future content! If you appreciate my work enough to offer monetary support, you can pledge on Patreon for early access arts+story or buy me gryphy treats at Ko-Fi as one time donations ^^