Pair Bonding
============================================================ "Pair Bonding" (c) 2007 by Istences D'Austere (C. Kirkhoff) Written in a single day, so nobody really had the chance to edit it! I think it's pretty readable anyway, but you be the judge. Any glaring errors or feedback: cjkirkhoff(at)hotmail(dot)com . Thanks! ============================================================ Since lions do not have a complete language, they have to rely more on their gestures and actions to convey their intentions.
- * * It was another beautiful day on the savannah, and I could not have been happier. My stomach was full of zebra and I was enjoying my (relatively) cool rock under a sprawling acacia tree. It was nourished by a tiny (yet consistent) artesian spring, whose delicious water never failed to bring life whenever my body needed it. Quite frankly, it was the only thing I ever bothered to mark in this dry landscape. The wet season here must be shorter than other places; at least that's what I would predict. I have seen more than one lion from my pride and other prides set off for the east, probably because they were having such a dreadful time trying to catch their food. There is not enough grass to support large herds around here, so those of us that stay have to make sure we know how to hunt. We simply do not get many second chances. My mother was one of the best, and I do not think I would have gotten by as the nomad that I am without her lessons. A lion had to be one with the ground out here; the cover was too short not to give oneself away without being completely sprawled out. I suppose the sun-bleached blond of my mane helped me too, as it was the same color as the grass. On one occasion, a small group of dikdik foolishly tried to take advantage of my cozy home. I was so completely one with the ground that one of them mistook my mane for the grass. Needless to say, I do not believe that its mind actually processed that thought before I decapitated it. About two years ago I thought I would have been happier living in a pride again, but those ideas changed quickly after I got the living tar beat out of me. There were only three throughout the lands I have roamed, and each was led by massive patriarchs that never failed to hide their age with their impressive physical prowess. It was fortunate the one I picked a fight with obviously had no desire to kill me. I was not even left with scars, simply large clumps of fur stripped out of my mane that have since grown back completely. I think he knew that I was a skilled hunter and could take care of myself; he just wanted to remind me that his harem, nearly forty lionesses strong, was not up for negotiation. It was really no matter, my tongue could always do enough to relieve my stress, plus I love the taste of my own seed, which was something I would be missing out on. It complemented the tang of game flesh very well. I could not imagine just how much I would be missing out on mating with a lioness anyway. After their virgin encounter with a penis and the initial surprise of how different it was from their tongue, each subsequent mating seemed almost like a chore. Or at least it appeared that way. Mom seemed more content while she was raising my sister and me than when she was in heat and being mounted every half hour. Returning to that lazy afternoon, I recall that as the day my fortune of being alone changed. I awoke with a twitch as a narrow beam of hot sunlight from the setting sun broke through the canopy of my tree and caught me square on the sheath. My quick reflexive movement to sit up caused my balls to pleasurably grind deeply into my rock. I groaned, half out of fatigue and half out of the arousal from my swelling sheath. Not to worry, I could easily take care of both at the same time, and then be ready to go on a leisurely evening stroll. I thrust out a hindpaw and lifted the other one over my head, flicked my long, tufted tail behind me, took a few quick sniffs of my musk and gave a deep lick square on the pink I was showing. More pink was quick to show as my penis freed itself from its confines, very pleased from the attention given from my tongue. It glistened in the sunlight with a few more scrapes of the tongue, with precum and saliva dripping off the tapered tip onto my groin fur, spreading out in small rivulets. I breathed heavy and began to lose control of my body, becoming lost in the intense pleasure, each one of my paws quivering faster in response to each stroke. Unfortunately, I had to stop as something was approaching that caught the corner of my eye. I slowly lowered my one hindpaw and blinked several times to regain my vision. Why, it was another male. I have seen this particular gentlelion in passing, but only in passing. We really never got around to socializing as the area he roamed was much further south and on the very edge of my sojourns. I cocked my head and examined his strained approach attentively. It did not appear as if he was in very good shape. He had clearly not eaten in several days, and might have been traveling seeking nourishment. Poor guy. I still had most of that big zebra I could never have hoped to finish by myself before it rotted or it was picked clean by vultures, and I would be happy to share it, just as long as he would be willing to assist me in what he had just interrupted. I breathed in and called out to him, perhaps startling him a bit as he stopped in his tracks to look me up and down before padding forward again. His mane was impressively full, but had several jet black streaks that could cause him some handicap in this landscape. I did not move out to greet him, which might have made him a little uneasy, but my entire rear half was too tense with my arousal and I did not want to move it. He met my gaze as he approached and grimaced slightly as he caught my scent, backing off with a low rumble instinctively as to make completely sure he was not stepping into a fight that he certainly was not prepared for in his state through invading another territory. I made my intentions clear as I flopped down with a heavy grunt and lifted my legs, giving him a perfect view of my lionhood, still half-aroused and dripping. Fortunately, he got the idea that he would need to take care of me before he could think of bargaining. He balanced himself on one paw and craned his neck to my groin, darting his tongue out and teasing my patchily-furred balls, which contracted at the sudden stimulation. I closed my eyes to appreciate the powerful sensations that followed, when he turned his attention to places I found it difficult to reach every day without straining my neck--the base of my tail, around my tailhole and at the bright pink folds of skin right at the very base of my sheath. With all his skillful teasing coaxing my penis to climax, it only took three more licks to my shaft after that to make me growl-hiss out in a powerful orgasm. Hot jets of lion cum soaked deeply into his waiting mane (especially visible with the light dark contrast), and he enjoyed the last spurt of juice off of his nose. Normally, I would have taken more time to enjoy the afterglow, but I was still "thirsty," and he had just deprived me of the cum that I was going to enjoy. So, he was going to need to give up his. Now that my balls were empty and my rear half lighter, I leaped down off my rock and gave him a quick headbutt. He closed his eyes and rumbled like a kitten, probably hopeful that he had buttered me up enough for some food. Close, but not quite. I ground my body against him hard, making him stagger to the side with the sudden force. I wasted no time in darting my thickly-furred head in between his leg and ravenously searching for his penis. He lifted a hindleg with an insistent nose to the sheath, causing him to completely lose his balance and topple over. I glanced to see him making a nervous lick to his muzzle as he rolled on his back, stretching his hindpaws to invite my muzzle to his groin. I licked as his (furrier) balls hungrily, their texture tickling my tongue. My saliva completely soaked them in several strokes. As soon as I saw his hardening arousal peek out its sheath, my tongue was on it. I suckled it like my mother's nipple, making sure every sweet drop of liquid that leaked from it found its way into my maw. And his nectar was very sweet indeed, much sweeter than mine. My tongue encircled the short length, causing my companions body to pulse rhythmically with each forceful slurp. I knew the prize was mine when his tail tensed under my balls and all of his claws unsheathed. A moment later, his orgasm exploded into the back of my throat, accompanied by a satisfied whine-growl, the only noise I had heard him make throughout the duration of my work. His brand of lion semen was very hot, very musky and very satisfying to my belly. I made sure none of it remained on my long teeth or sticky black lips. I stood up and took a step back to let him recover. He slowly let his twitching hindpaws fall to his side and began to stand up stiffly. I assisted him with a lion head underneath his shoulder. He looked at me square in the eye as he regained his balance, and before I could growl out anything he surprised me by a lick on the nose. By then I was beginning to wonder what his intentions here really were. But since it was dusk, I did not really want to ponder it further, since I wanted to make sure the fellow was on his way before night fell. I gave a quick gruff, and gestured with my head where I had my stash hidden and he followed, this time with a slight bounce in his paws. After a couple minutes, I came across the carcass hidden in a taller patch of grass, set off by a pair of baobabs, conveniently marked by several vultures picking at it. With a great roar and lunge I bared my claws charged at one of them, killing it instantly with one merciless blow. Normally, these birds postured as if they would pose some threat to those who would reclaim their meals, but they took off. They knew that the lions were built tough around these parts. I stared at them for a while in the air, before my companion distracted me with a friendly bodyrub and a nuzzle to my mane as he pranced to dine. After watching him dig in, I sat down and kept watch for him. He has been through enough today, with his journey and what I had demanded from him. It took him a while to finish, as his completely empty belly needed a significant amount of time to fill. As he stood up and groomed the bits of flesh and bloody ichor off his muzzle, I decided that it would probably be beneficial for me to mark this location, as it was a good spot to hide my large kills. I raised my tail and did so, and then turned to leave. I was blocked my companion, as he stepped in front of my stride and did not one, not two but three circles around me, rumbling loudly as he did so. Now I was royally confused. But not for long. He wanted me as a partner. He crouched in front of me about as well as any lioness could, swishing his dark tail from side to side, letting me catch inviting glances of his tailhole. I breathed deeply and noticed the very strong aroma of sex coming from him. He was much too sweet of a lion (both literally and figuratively) to deny, and I did very much want to be one with him. With my penis erect beneath me, I slowly walked over to him to prove this fact. We growled in unison as a I mounted him, craning my rear side down and pressing my lionhood gently against his rump, searching for my target. I was not very practiced at this technique, but my partner did not seem to mind. He mreowled in happiness as my sticky, precum-dripping penis slid back and forth against the thin fur and tight muscles of his shapely rump. He convulsed beneath me with a slightly pained roar as my cock found its target. Those same muscles pressed against my length with great fervor as I enthusiastically humped him, lost in this new and excruciatingly pleasurable experience. My maw innately snapped at the back of his neck, to which he relaxed his head to the ground in response to. Feeling slightly guilty as I found it difficult to ignore the hot sexual tension between my hindlegs, I turned my vigor into increasingly insistent licks to the back of his neck. He growl-moaned loudly and shook beneath my grasp. I had no more breath to spare; the experience was stealing it all away from me. My climax seemed to start at the very tip of my tail and work its way all the way up to my nose--my trembling tail and hindpaws suddenly freezing solid as I sprayed jet after jet of lion cum into his wet, waiting tailhole. With feline grace abandoned, I dismounted with all the clumsiness of an elephant and spent the next several moments wondering where I was. I regained myself and watched my partner with interest as he lapped my seed out from under his tail, after which he turned his attention to remnants from his own orgasm, which was spattered across his darkly furred chest and groin. I just stood and watched him in amazement as he turned and marked the same tree I had mark, to fill his end of the commitment, I would assume. We walked back to my home, which was now our home. We have both learned from the skills and talents we share. I love him and the warmth his body gives me, pressed against my body during cold nights. There is no need for a pride anymore, my pride is him. And on top of everything else, our expressions of love are always in season.