Aviator's Reward

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 the 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 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. He trusted her, and valued her opinion, and that was something she never took for granted.

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."