Goetic Justice 2

He leaned down and dragged his tongue between her lips, her delicate folds slick with her juices. He felt her massive body shudder at his touch, her long spine arching as he reached the top and glanced her clitoris. When he pulled away, a film of her sticky fluids clung to his tongue, linked to her loins by a sagging web of clear slime. She tasted...sour, but not unpleasantly so. This was her natural flavor, or at least as natural as a body that had been conjured by magick could be.

Ryan was so aroused at that point that he would not have relented regardless of her taste, plunging back in as Nahash cooed softly. He felt her fingers delve into his hair as licked and teased, the giant Seirim's legs beginning to tremble about his face. They were so cool against his red cheeks, and he couldn't resist rubbing them against her, the sensitive skin of her inner thighs as smooth and as soft as the most luxurious satin. He paused his licking to plant a sucking kiss on her hip, her mammoth body twitching as he pulled away to leave a pink love bite. He could taste the salt on her skin, feel the warmth of her body radiating outwards like a space heater.

She was rolling her wide hips instinctively, as if subconsciously trying to fuck his face. Her rhythm was slow and subtle, but noticeable. He watched her body move for a moment, her toned muscles shifting and flexing beneath her cushiony layer of fat, her breasts swaying and bouncing as her slow dance dragged on. It was hypnotic, and tearing his eyes away from her lush body was a challenge.

Ryan moved back down towards her aching nethers, kissing and licking as he went, feeling her shiver and hearing her breathing grow ragged as he neared her loins. He paused there for a moment, his lips hovering an inch away from her sodden flesh, even his breath enough to make the Satyr gasp.

He leaned back in and delivered a flurry of quick licks and glances, her grip on his hair tightening. Her tugging stung his scalp, but he enjoyed the sensation, her grip seemed proportionate to her mounting pleasure. He painted every crease and fold of her burning womanhood with his tongue, her flesh almost warm enough to scald him. He mouthed and kissed, playing his lips over her tender vulva, drawing shapes with the tip of his tongue. He afforded her the same passion and intimacy that he would have during a deep and sensual kiss, her muscles tensing with every teasing stroke of his tongue, the thrusting of her hips growing faster as her slick juices dripped from his chin in thick ropes.

Something primal had come over him. Perhaps it was the lack of Seirim magick dulling his mind, but he felt so wanton, carnal.

Moving lower now, he circled her opening, feeling her muscles tense as it twitched and leaked in invitation. He slipped the tip of his tongue inside her and immediately he felt her muscles seize around him like a fist gloved in damp silk. Despite her stature, she was almost painfully tight. Her passage gripped him like a vice as it tried to suck him deeper, but the combination of her juices and his drool made their contact too slippery for her to find purchase. She was almost pulsating, her powerful pelvic floor muscles undulating and rippling beyond the walls of velvet flesh, her passage begging to be filled by something larger than a mere tongue.

He withdrew and resumed his ardent licking, raking his organ across her sensitive vulva, the Seirim leaning against the wall behind her and closing her eyes as she enjoyed his sordid attentions. Every stroke was met with an appreciative sigh or a low whine, his oversized partner guiding him as she maintained her hold on his hair. He loved to see her like this, teetering on the brink, so close to losing control of her faculties and succumbing to her more base desires. She could be so passionate and unashamed sometimes that it was almost alarming, her resemblance to an animal not merely confined to her outward appearance. She could rut like a beast, or she could make tender love to him like he was the most fragile thing in the world. That duality was what made her so exciting and unpredictable.

A tremor spread through her body as he pressed a finger up against her winking entrance, making her wait for it, her anticipation palpable. When she was sufficiently frustrated, he relented, slowly sliding his digit up to the knuckle inside her. His skin glided against her soaking insides, so slippery that there was almost no friction, and then her muscles closed around him like he had sprung a trap.

Her walls molded around his finger like a second skin, crushing him with an almost painful ferocity, massaging the length of his digit. He could feel the rings of muscle as they slid from the base to the tip, milking his finger as if her body couldn't tell it apart from a cock, squeezing and kneading with incredible pressure. It might have been uncomfortable was it not for her exquisite texture, her hot, slippery insides like silk soaked in lubricating jelly as they sucked at him like a mouth. The mere thought of sheathing his member inside her was enough to make his erection surge, bouncing in the air as it throbbed at the prospect.

He could feel her heartbeat on his lips as he crawled them slowly up her vulva, creeping ever closer to her sweet spot, moving his finger inside her as he went. Now a second hand was gripping his hair, the Satyr inadvertently pressing her heavy breasts together with her upper arms, giving him a wonderful view of her boundless cleavage from below. Her gyrating hips bumped her wet flesh against his nose, smearing her fluids on his face, and he had to wrap his free arm around her hips for purchase.

He reached around behind her with some difficulty, taking a generous handful of her ass, her cheeks no less rounded and supple than her boobs. He felt her flinch and gasp as he sank his fingers deep into her velvety meat, the hard muscle that lay hidden beneath tensing. He mauled and squeezed, her haunches as pliable as wet clay, her delicate fat spilling between his fingers and filling his palm.

"You're so eager to please today," she mumbled, her husky voice low and breathy. "Maybe I should leave you with a clear head more often..."

He began to make a come-hither motion with his finger, curling it inside her and driving it against the roof of her tunnel. Her passage fought against him, her contractions becoming more frequent and violent as she began to moan quietly.

His tongue glanced the smooth flesh of her swollen clitoris, and her body seemed to tense up, the Seirim frozen like a statue. He began to play his tongue across its shiny surface, his pace gentle and placating, her muscles slowly relaxing as she sank down into the bed. She was almost lying on her back now, her head and shoulders propped up against the headboard, her fingers still nestled in his hair as her claws pricked his scalp.

"I see that all the practice has been paying off," she grumbled, twitching as he circled her hard nub. He closed his lips around it, drawing it out from beneath its protective hood and lashing it with his tongue, her voice petering out into a groan as she pulled him closer. Her burnished thighs pressed around his face, quivering as his practiced licking drove her inexorably closer to the edge.

Her labored breathing almost seemed to be tied to his lapping, each doting glance followed by a staggered breath. Her tunnel squeezed around his finger as he moved it inside of her, the pressure so intense that he almost couldn't pull it back out of her, her silky flesh like damp latex as it clung to him.

Nahash was in a trance, thrusting her hips to rub her vulva against his tongue, seeking out more stimulation as Ryan held onto her as best he could. The squeezing of her pelvic floor muscles became frantic, dragging his digit deeper inside her, her fluids gushing around it to wet her thighs and drip from his chin. She was getting close, he could feel it, the Seirim now lying flat on the bed as her twisted horns scoured the headboard and left deep ruts in the wood. Her entire body was in motion, like a sensual dance, her hips rocking and her torso twisting as the light from the window above them made the fresh sweat that coated her skin glisten like morning dew.

She arched her back off the mattress, the springs creaking as if they were about to give way, but just as he felt that she was about to pop she pushed him away. Her hands still resting on his head, he looked up to see her peering down at him between her breasts, their sheer weight parting them as gravity took hold. A clear strand of her juices linked his lips to hers, and she bit her lip as she watched it break, following it with her ovine eyes as it fell to the sheets below.

"What gives?" Ryan asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and failing to clear away the glaze of Seirim fluids that were clinging to his face.

"Not yet," she whispered, slowing her breathing and swallowing heavily as she took a few moments to recover. "You can finish me too quickly these days. I want to take my time, I want to enjoy it. I want to enjoy you..."

"But time is the one thing that we don't have," he mumbled.

She sat up on the bed, cupping his cheeks in her hands and wiping away some of the goop, unable to conceal her arousal as she did so.

"We have time enough for this. What are we fighting for, if not for the right to be here, together?"

If there was one thing that he could never bring himself to do, it was to deny her. Nahash shuffled back up into a sitting position, the headboard creaking behind her as she put her weight on it, then extended her arms in invitation.

He crawled closer to her on the mattress, between her parted thighs, his member erect and ready. She closed her arms around him and pulled him close, knocking him off balance. Ryan fell into the cushion of her ample bosom, his face landing in the downy wool that decorated her neck in a deep and feathery ruff. It was soft against his cheeks, like fleece or velvet, her musky scent filling his nose as he breathed in. That wonderful scent was still there even without her magic. The smells of a fertile forest, of flowers and wet earth, grass and pollen. He couldn't resist plunging his hands into it, watching as they vanished up to the wrist in her soft coat.

The smell and texture of it made him feel sleepy, he was so accustomed to resting his head in the nape of her neck when they slept together that it had almost become a Pavlovian reaction. As he felt her fingers wrap around his member, however, he was jolted out of his stupor.

"Go slow," she whispered, her warm breath blowing his hair. "Take your time and savor me."

It was an invitation that he couldn't refuse, his heart skipping a beat as he glanced up at her yellow eyes, her horned head framed by the shafts of light that penetrated the window above. He slid his arms a little lower, doing his best to wrap them around her massive body, his fingers tracing the long dimple that her spine carved in her back and delving into her rump. Even with both arms wrapped around her waist his fingers scarcely met on the other side.

He let her guide him, the Seirim rubbing his erection against her vulva, her puffy labia gliding against his skin and sending jolts of pleasure coursing through him. She was so warm, he could feel her heat on his glans as she brushed it against her slick flesh, wetting him with her syrupy juices in preparation. When he was suitably slippery, she pressed his head against her opening, Ryan feeling the twitching of her muscles as they wrapped around the tip like a pair of pursed lips. He exhaled a sigh into her fluffy ruff, burying his face in it as he pushed his hips forwards, Nahash letting him slide through her fingers as he drove his member deeper.

There was a moment of resistance, as if she was too tight to fit him, and then he felt her velvet insides rake across his glans. Every nerve that he had down there was on fire, ecstasy shooting through him like a hot knife, so intense that it could almost be described as pain. Yet her passage was the softest and most delicate thing that he had ever felt, and it seemed to kiss him as it wrapped around him like a prison of soaking satin.

Every subtle movement of her muscles sent another twinge of wracking pleasure through him, he could feel her every twitch, her loins beginning the slow milking motion that he both longed for and feared. Her slow massage seemed to coax him deeper, and she gasped above him as he slid inside her up to the hilt. He could feel her spasm, a shiver spreading through her massive body that made her fleshy walls ripple around his buried length.

"I love this," he mumbled into her luxurious fur, "I love you."

"I know," she chuckled. "Now stop trying to flatter this old goat and give me what I need..."

She accompanied the salacious demand with a soft nibble of his ear, Ryan squirming as she kept him trapped in a bear hug. His hips began to move almost of their own accord, mechanical, inexorable. He could not more stop the thrusting than he could choose to stop his heart from beating, breathing in lungfuls of her familiar scent as the friction that it created began to rock them both.

There was so much suction, the walls of her passage clinging to him ardently, like he was trying to remove a latex glove. It was as though they were begging him to stay, Ryan painfully aware of every bump and crease of her innards as they dragged up his length. It was so prominent in his mind, sparks flying in his brain as he slid about halfway out of her. The ring of muscle around her opening pinched around him, and he couldn't help himself, slamming back inside her.

He drove himself deep into her reaches, parting her warm flesh, Nahash moaning enticingly in that husky contralto that excited him so. Her passage moved around him, shifting and squeezing as if it had a life all its own. The Seirim had such fine control over her pelvic floor muscles, she was an artist, wringing him with all the dexterity of a practiced hand. Every wave of teasing muscle that washed over him made his head spin, his member pulsing and jumping inside of her with every stroke.

"To think that you can do all of this without your magick," he gasped, "I always assumed that this was some kind of spell."

She seemed surprised by his comment, but pleasantly so, pausing for a moment before leaning down to nuzzle his head with her ovine nose.

"Perhaps I relied too much on magick. Do you really enjoy me so without it?"

"What do you think?" Ryan asked with a drunken chuckle, lifting his face from her fluff and exposing his red cheeks.

She laughed at his dazed expression, placing a gentle hand on the back of his head and pushing him back down into her ruff. She used her upper arms to press her bust together, sinking him into the depths of cleavage, Ryan unable to help himself from lifting his hands and digging his fingers into their yielding surface. Nahash slid her hand down his back, tracing his spine with the clawed tips of her fingers, making him shiver and buck. She cupped his cheek in her palm and leveraged some of her strength to increase his pace, pulling him deeper inside her as they began to find an enjoyable rhythm that suited the both of them.

"I can feel it," Nahash whispered, "your energy is pouring into me. Warming me..."

Even in his distracted state, he had noticed that the hairs on his arms and neck had begun to stand on end, as if the air was full of electricity. She had never been so drained before, and in its absence, the sudden resurgence of her magick was more obvious than ever. He looked up at her, and her amber eyes seemed to be glowing, or perhaps they were just reflecting the light in the room like those of a cat. It was so hard to tell, the influence of her demonic powers could be so subtle.

Their coupling was slow and measured, yet powerful, the impact of their bodies joining making her thighs and breasts shake. Just like she wanted, Ryan was taking his time. He savored every spark of pleasure, every caress of her walls as they rippled around him, her juices spilling forth with every thrust. She was so warm, so wet, it was intoxicating. He felt like he was becoming part animal himself, his conscious mind slipping into irrelevance as his base instincts commanded him to move.

"That's it," she moaned, her voice low and sultry. "Like that, you're hitting all the right places..."

In this position he could reach so deep inside her, his tender glans scraping her velvet passage, driving into it in ways that made her shiver and push back to meet his thrusts. He could feel every sigh and tremor when they were locked together like this, every beat of her heart and every clench of her muscles translating into him, like their nervous systems had become linked.

As he turned his head to one side, rubbing his cheek in her wool, he noticed that something was wrong with the bed sheet. They had been dirty, sure, but now that he looked closer there was some kind of moss growing them. Were they rotting away? How could he not have seen it earlier?

For a moment he was disgusted, and he considered halting their encounter so that they might continue it in a more sanitary locale, then he saw it change. The moss grew and spread, encompassing the sheet faster than any normal plant should be able to grow. It sprouted a bud before his eyes, the stalk rising from its surface and opening into a beautiful, yellow flower.

It was obviously Nahash's magic. As her powers slowly returned, so too did the forest seem drawn to her, like metal shavings being pulled towards a powerful magnet. The bed of moss was spreading, and he reached down to run his fingertips through it. Its green surface was cool and wet, coated in dew, soft and pleasant to touch.

"Your magick," he said, his eyelids fluttering as he drove into her again.

"It is returning," she confirmed, "but I am not nearly satisfied yet."

She increased their tempo, her hips beginning to gyrate and shift, changing the angle of his penetration so that she pressed around him in new and exciting ways. His rigid member dug into her sensitive walls, their slippery texture exquisite, the Satyr cooing happily as if finally able to scratch a maddening itch.

Her skilled movements were driving him wild. The Seirim were expert dancers, their control over their bodies was unparalleled. Ryan had seen them perform feats of grace and athleticism that would put any gymnast to shame, their movements so fluid and sensual that they had an almost hypnotic quality. Now she was using those same shimmies and rolling figures of eight that made her dancing so mesmerizing to drown him in an ocean of pleasure.

She was built for this of course, seemingly designed to seduce and to excite, but now she was all his. Five thousand years of experience tempting mortals and honing her natural talents, and now it was all directed solely towards him. After years of chasing women, it was still a novelty to be pursued, to be desired in the way that she desired him. It never ceased to thrill him, even after the weeks that they had spent together.

As their thrusting became more heated, their hips slamming together with an audible clap, his eyes were once more drawn to movement on the bed. Behind her head a web green vines was growing up the headboard, the creepers covered in fleshy leaves, colorful flowers blooming in shades of blue and white as they snaked higher. It was as if the bed was being overrun by plant life. He noticed a few fireflies buzzing about her horns too, weaving in and out as they flashed their ghostly, green lights.

The mattress beneath them was now covered in vibrant wildflowers, the bed of moss and petals somehow softer than the sheets had been. Blood red poppies, bright yellow daisies, and baby-blue flax flowers stood out against the green moss as if a whole bouquet was blooming around them. It smelled wonderful, like a meadow in spring, droplets of dew rolling down their leaves as if a light shower had just passed over them.