Heart of the Mountain

She didn't have to move very much, her assets had so much mass that her slow rocking motion was enough to buffet him, the twin globes of flesh behaving almost like a liquid. Their weight would press up against him, and then they would return to their original position, almost like a pail of water that was being swung back and forth. Isabelle struggled to keep them suspended, wrapping an arm below them, and one above. She sandwiched them together as they made a seemingly intentional effort to escape her grasp, her forearms sinking deep into the wobbling flesh, so soft that there was almost no resistance.

She allowed him to thrust freely now, Iden's instincts getting the better of him, his belly clapping against her breasts and sending ripples through them as he pushed into her cleavage. Their heft made them so tight, her scaly skin pressing all around him, like two giant cushions. He had done this with other women, and even with the most endowed, he could always see the tip of his member poking up between their boobs. But now, his erection had vanished entirely, all that he could see were the two scaly mounds as they quivered with his rutting.

Isabelle sensed that he was rubbing off the lubrication, and so she opened her jaws, pausing to let a mouthful of her saliva slide past her lips. The glob of drool landed wetly on her chest, Iden following it with his eyes as it vanished into her bust, its warmth soon finding his member. There was so much of it, thick and bubbly, making the depths of her bosom feel as hot and as slimy as her loins had been. She licked her lips with her tongue, glancing up at him and batting her lashes seductively.

"Go as fast as you please," she whispered, "let it all out..."

Was she finally going to let him finish? As frustrated as he was, he couldn't deny the truth of what she had told him. He had never felt anything like this before, swells of pleasure were rising up through his entire body, his extremities tingling as though he had slept on them wrong. Everything seemed to be syncing up. The beating of his heart, his staggered breathing, the thrusting of his hips as they slammed into the soft pillows of Isabelle's bust. It was like a symphony where all of the instruments had been playing out of step with one another, clashing and discordant, finally coming together to compliment each other perfectly as they matched tempo to produce beautiful music.

As he thrust, he sank deeper and deeper into her cleavage, until his entire lower body was almost completely encompassed by her breasts. They didn't quite meet behind him, but they had slowly crept around his hips, spilling down his thighs. Eventually, Isabelle abandoned her attempts to handle her bosom, wrapping her arms around him instead. She pulled him tight, using her leverage to increase his pace.

Caught in the loops of her tail, and Isabelle's tight hug, he could scarcely move. The smoldering embers of his arousal were igniting now, rising up inside him like a churning, roaring inferno. His cheeks burned hot, his member throbbing between her boobs, his skin dripping with sweat as his endurance was pushed to its limits. His muscles trembled, darkness creeping at the corners of his vision, his fingers and toes clenching of their own accord.

Everything had built up to this, each orgasm that she had denied him had only compounded the next, and now he was finally teetering over the precipice. It was outside of his control, he couldn't decide when he wanted the exquisite torment to end, Isabelle would draw it out of him as she pleased. It was such an odd feeling, to not be in control of one's own body, and yet he felt so good that he feared he might never return to a normal state of mind again. If someone had told him that making love could feel like this, he would have laughed at them. He had thought himself so skilled in the ways of carnality, but this was something completely different, more like an opium high than mere sex.

He was roused from his stupor as Isabelle placed a gentle bite on his neck, easily able to reach it due to her stature, even while keeping his pulsing member encased in her bosom. She bit a little harder than she had before, not enough to make him bleed, but enough to leave red indents on his skin. There was something primal about having her draconic fangs pressing into his jugular, the vein pulsing against them, her wet tongue emerging to lash at his throat. He made an unbecoming sound that he had never heard himself make before, Isabelle chuckling to herself as she crawled her lips higher.

"Are you getting close?" she cooed, pausing to brush her lips against his ear as she whispered to him. "Your moans are so sweet..."

Her salacious whispering sent him over the edge, his heart seeming to falter, the sweet ache that had been building up inside him throughout the night taking on an unbearable quality. He gritted his teeth, but failed to stifle a pained groan, Isabelle watching gleefully as his body began to convulse. She tightened the bonds of her chubby tail, keeping him still as he bucked and rocked, thrusting desperately into her cleavage and making her breasts shake in the process.

He pumped rope after rope of his emission into her bosom, his animal lust unable to differentiate it from a fertile womb, his seed joining her warm saliva as it glued her breasts together. Every time that Iden thought himself spent, another swell of bliss rose up inside him, so acute that it bordered on painful. His muscles spasmed, his spine arching, stars dancing before his eyes as his wracked body gave her everything that it could.

His prolonged arousal had compounded every sensation, his soreness, his burning need taking him higher than he had ever been before. Instead of a short, intense climax that was confined entirely to his loins, the ecstasy spread throughout his entire body like a debilitating poison being carried by his blood. Every fresh surge of sensation was more powerful than the last, making his head spin, the brief moment of respite before the next rapturous throb of pleasure affording him just enough time to appreciate his situation before sending him reeling once again.

He could feel Isabelle's heaving bosom filling with his fluids, the thick, pearly globs creating a warm pocket around his member. It began to slide out of her cleavage, a combination of his essence and her drool running down her scaly torso, glistening strands of it drooping from her bust and waving back and forth with his thrusting.

Iden tried to double over as another lightning bolt of pleasure tore through him, his every nerve bound to the same unrelenting rhythm, but her spiraling tail still kept him tightly bound. He had given up trying to stifle his moans now, his hair hanging over his face in a dark curtain as he sagged forwards in the clutches of her coils, drenched in fresh sweat. He groaned, his eyelids fluttering as he gave her one last wad of his semen, the muscles in his abdomen burning from the effort. It felt like she had pulled a length of knotted rope out of him through his manhood, she had drained him completely, he couldn't believe how much she had managed to wring out of him.

As soon as the harsh pleasure began to retreat, a euphoria unlike any that he had felt before fell over him like a warm blanket. It was as though a fever had overcome him, leaving him aching and delirious, and yet he felt such wonderful relief. He closed his eyes, unable to suppress a wide smile, Isabelle watching him with a satisfied grin as he faded in and out of awareness. Time had lost all meaning, the world around him melting away until all that remained were Isabelle's glowing eyes.

She slowly pulled away, Iden flinching as an aftershock teased his still rigid erection, his eyes opening for a moment to watch as she released her bosom from her grasp. She let her breasts fall, gravity taking hold of them, the heavy mounds of flesh bouncing as they settled. Between them was a sordid mess, strings of his emission linking her boobs as they splayed apart under their own weight, more of the unspeakable fluid sloughing down her torso and making its way between her meaty thighs. She seemed almost as surprised by the quantity as he was, her eyes darting first to his seed, then back up to his face.

"So virile," she chuckled, reaching down to run a clawed finger through the trail of cooling fluid. It clung to her talon with the consistency of honey, linked to her scales by a long strand that broke as she pulled away. "What say you now? Will you take things slow next time, or are you still a seeker of instant gratification?"

Iden didn't reply, he could only laugh drunkenly, his post-coital bliss dulling his wits. She lowered him gently to the bed, the fat rolls of her tail uncoiling from around him. She lay him on the silken sheets beside her, Iden sinking his fingers into the luxurious fabric, somehow even softer and more pleasant than it had been before.

He rolled onto his back, still breathing hard, his skin damp with perspiration. Isabelle came crashing down beside him, her weight enough to shake the ground beneath him, lying on her side and propping herself up on an elbow as she reached across to plant a hand on his stomach. He shivered, another wave of pleasure washing over him. He was so sensitive that her merest touch excited him in this exhausted state. She slid it up to his chest, seemingly amused by his sudor, her touch slippery.

"Mortals sweat," she muttered, admiring his figure with her reptilian eyes. "It never ceases to entice me." She brought her snout closer to him on her flexible neck, dragging her tongue across his throat, tasting the salt on his skin as his still swollen member bobbed in the air. "I can taste things that you aren't even aware of, secretions that inspire lust, and affection. They bleed from your pores when you're excited, soaking your bodies when you make love. They make you taste...delightful..."

"You're not going to eat me, I hope," Iden chuckled weakly. "Was all of this effort for the sole purpose of seasoning me?"

She laughed at that, Iden's eyes drawn to her bust. Gravity was mashing her breasts together as she lounged on her side, the lower one spreading out under its own weight, while the upper one compressed it from above. His eyes traced the low dip of her pinched waist, rising up into the curve of her wide hips, the meat of her thighs at the mercy of gravity just as her bosom was. Her long tail trailed off into the distance, its tip so far away that the darkness of the cave swallowed it up.

"You're quite safe," she replied, sliding her hand up to cup his cheek. He couldn't help but push his face into her soft palm, the dragoness stroking him with her thumb. "Mortal meat tastes rather bad, and their hygiene usually leaves something to be desired."

He laughed, not certain whether she was joking or not.

"Come closer," she said, hooking a hand around his back and dragging him towards her. Her claws pricked his skin, but even that was an oddly pleasant sensation. He felt her fingers delve into his hair as she pressed his face between her breasts, large enough that they spilled over his shoulders too. He was about to protest, expecting to find the mess that he had left in her cleavage, but all that he encountered were dry scales. Perhaps it was her magic. He didn't question it, breathing in a lungful of her smoky scent, letting her bust engulf him. The breast below served as an admirable pillow, far softer than even the most expensive goose feather stuffing. If one were to pluck the wings of an angel and use them to fill a velvet cushion, it wouldn't have been half as opulent as this.

The second boob pressed down on him from above, quickly smothering him, Iden having to rise from her cleavage to take a breath like a whale breaching for air. He wrapped his arms around her as best he could, able to do little more than drape one about her torso, his fingertips scarcely able to reach her spine. In turn, she cradled him in her arms, enveloping him in her warm body like a living sleeping bag.

Iden felt all of his worries melt away. There was something about this that felt so natural, so right, his heart fluttering as her clawed fingers found his scalp and began to comb his hair. Lovemaking, not just fucking, that was the distinction. Not only had he never felt this good before, but nobody had ever treated him this way either. Isabelle exuded compassion and tenderness in ways that he would never have ascribed to a scaly, armored killing machine. For all of her teeth and horns, despite the fact that she could melt steel with her breath, he knew that she would never lay so much as a claw on him. Not now.

His own thoughts were becoming muddled, his motivations clouded. What was he doing here? What was he doing with Isabelle? He had scaled the mountain to seek out his fortune, to claim a prize, why was he letting himself be distracted? He had one goal, one mission, everything else was irrelevant.

Yet another part of him yearned for this, not just the carnal delights, but the warmth that followed. The affection, the closeness, the feeling of being wanted for something more than just his sword arm or his cock. Could this be a treasure of greater worth than mere gold? Could he just stay here? What would become of him? What of his aspirations of owning land, of begetting a horde of children to carry on his legacy?

"You seem distracted," Isabelle whispered, planting a kiss on his forehead with her scaly lips. "What troubles you?"

He considered sharing his doubts with her for a moment. She was wise, long-lived, no doubt learned enough to advise. But something made him bite his tongue, and he buried his face in her bosom lest his red cheeks betray his lie.

"Nothing," he replied, squeezing her more tightly. "I'm just...I've never felt this way before."

That at least was the truth.

"You can be so loving and tender when you want to be, Iden," she said as she nuzzled his head. "I knew when you showed me kindness during our ascent, that there was a gentleness to you, that there was a good man beneath all of those scars. You just needed someone to show you how to set that man free."

"You don't really know me," he muttered, "you don't know what I've done."

"I'll have you know that I'm an excellent judge of character," she said, shifting her weight to get more comfortable. He felt her tail rise up to encircle him possessively, as though she was creating a perimeter around him. "I've lived long enough, and I've known enough people to develop an intuition surrounding such things. As I've been trying to impress upon you, a man can at once be strong, and sensitive. Violent, and gentle. Nature has endowed you with a strong arm, and an iron will, your choice of profession was almost inevitable in these tumultuous times. But your past only defines you as long as you let it. You can choose to be something else, if that's what you want."

"Would you...rub my head again?" he asked, hiding his burning face from her. Isabelle didn't laugh at him, she didn't have a witty remark prepared. She simply smiled, running her fingers through his hair, Iden letting himself melt into her inviting body as his fatigue caught up with him.

CHAPTER 8: CHOICES

The shepherd stumbled out of the tavern, closing the heavy wooden door behind him, his feet slipping in the ever-present mud. The village was overcast by dark clouds, an eerie mist clinging to the ground like a carpet. He flipped up his tattered hood to shield himself from the light drizzle, setting off home, his path lit by the yellow glow from the dirty windows of the adjacent buildings. As he stepped gingerly around a particularly deep puddle, he heard something behind him. He turned to look, squinting, his eyes unable to pierce the darkness and the fog.

As he watched, several dark shapes came into focus. It was a procession of horses, stamping their hooves in the wet dirt, their snorting accompanied by the clanking of their armored riders. He recognized them as Paladins immediately, their snow-white armor gilded with gold trim, a pair of golden eagle's wings adorning their helmets. They were clad in full suits of plate, armored from their heads to their toes, wearing white surcoats over the top of their garniture that were decorated with the symbols of their order. They wielded long spears that had small, fluttering standards tied to the haft near their glinting tips, large tower shields strapped across their backs. They had short swords, too, along with numerous pouches and satchels that might contain any manner of things. They looked like they were marching to war.

They ignored the drunken shepherd, passing him one by one, and he counted six riders in all. He called after them, the one taking up the rear halting his horse, steering it around to look back.

"Are you here to slay the beast?" the shepherd asked.

"What do you know of the dragon?" the Paladin called back, his voice somewhat muffled by his ornate helmet.

"T'was I who first laid eyes on it," the shepherd replied, trying not to sway too conspicuously lest it make his story any less credible. "T'was I who brought it to the magistrate's attention."

The Paladin signaled to his comrades, and they stopped, looking back at him as he turned his horse around. The shepherd had to crane his neck to peer up at the knight as his steed trotted up beside him, the animal snorting as its rider pulled back on the reins to halt it.

"You've seen the dragon?" the Paladin asked, his expression indiscernible through the narrow slot in his winged helmet. Up close, the shepherd could make out the golden inscriptions on his armor, the decorative trim comprised of flowing prayers and incantations. Even the steel plates that made up his gauntlets were gilded, the calligraphic passages wrapping around his fingers.

"Aye, I sighted the creature up in the foothills, where it swooped down and ate half a flock of my sheep before my very eyes. Never seen anything like it in my life, must have been fifty feet long, as heavy as a whole herd of cattle. Its footsteps shook the very ground beneath my feet. I saw it vomit a plume of flame that charred my poor sheep until their bones were blackened."

"We were told that the dragon resides on a mountain peak that overlooks this village," the Paladin continued, "is this true?"

"Aye, you can't miss it," the shepherd said as he pointed in the vague direction of the peak. "I watched the beast soar down from the mountaintop on its great wings, and that was where it returned once its foul deed was done. A mercenary came by a few days ago, had his mind set on claiming the bounty on its head, but I've seen no sight of the man since. If you ask me, the dragon bested him."

"The Paladin Order will be taking charge of this situation," the knight replied sternly. "Dragons are not something to be trifled with by the unprepared, they are possessed of powerful magic, so it is written in the holy scriptures. Our archivists alone possess the necessary knowledge to bring one down. If you should come across any more fortune seekers who are headed this way, turn them back. Without the magical artifacts and arcane techniques required to pacify a dragon, they will surely perish at its hands."

"Aye, Sir, I'll do as you ask."

With that, the Paladin turned about and lashed his reins, catching up with his procession.

"May the Gods be with you!" the shepherd called after them.

***

Iden chewed into a hunk of roasted meat, its juices dripping onto the mahogany dining table. He had awoken beside Isabelle on their nest of extravagant sheets, sore and satisfied from their romp the night before. After a quick dip in the pool to wash off the residue, she had cooked him an admirable breakfast, if roasting a cut of beef using the fiery breath of a dragon could be considered cooking. She was leaning on the table now, watching him as he ate. She had reverted back to her human form once again and was now fully clothed, perhaps assuming that he found it more pleasing.