Old Flames

The demon stared upwards, silently. It crouched, legs and back bent, flames burning dimmer but somehow hotter, shadowy aura drawn close and dense. And then it leapt, uncoiling itself with an elastic thrust to launch straight upwards at great speed, a single bound landing it on the very edge of the upper floor, next to the dragon. Kreel thundered bodily into it, chest to chest, limbs entwined, cock pressed against cock, and met its mouth in a fiery kiss. The momentum sent the demon stumbling backwards, teetering, and then falling, both of them, kissing and tearing at each other as they fell.

They hit the floor with a booming thud that cracked the solid stone, but stayed entwined, kissing and clawing and ripping and squeezing, a saturated bundle of consuming flaming passion. They rolled, now Kreel on top, now the demon, kissing and kissing as though each one's quest to infiltrate the other lay forgotten beneath the urgent need to touch and be touched. But quite suddenly the dragon made a move to squirm into a position of advantage behind the demon, and the demon, with a quick reaction as though it had been expecting such a move from the beginning, threw him off.

As Kreel regained his feet, the demon charged, eyes blazing with intent, whip swirling above its head, its shadowy aura boiling around it. He ran from it, back into the treasure room; the demon was fast, but he was faster, his legs pumping the floor, wings beating to push him along more rapidly, half flying, half running, always just fast enough to keep it right behind his tail.

Kreel ran nimbly over his treasure pile. The demon followed at full speed and immediately floundered on the unfamiliar surface, plates and coins sliding under its feet, nevertheless its momentum carried it forward, half embedding it face-down in the shifting golden mass. Kreel beat his wings, thrusting into the air, curving upwards, and over, performing a tight vertical loop to land him perfectly on the back of the beached demon.

The struggle was brief. The heaped gold hampered the demon's movements, and Kreel had soon relieved it of its whip and secured a good grip from which there seemed little prospect of escape.

"How are you enjoying my bed? Comfortable, isn't it? And beautiful! And everything on it is mine. Including, it would seem, you."

He let his penis settle into the needed position, its tip pressed against the demon's opening. "You did quite well, you know. If I'd been a lesser dragon, and not Kreel the Magnificent, it would probably be you about to skewer me right now. But, as things are..."

Kreel's cock was long and rigid with a slight upward curve. He had to push quite hard to pierce the demon's uncooperative opening, but after that it slid in relatively smoothly, all the way, until his groin pressed against its flaming buttocks. He moaned, relishing the delicious tightness and soft warmth around his shaft. The demon let out a scream like tortured rock as it went in and then stopped struggling completely, as though acknowledging defeat.

"There, my fiend, that's it, relax. We'll take it nice and slow. I wouldn't want to hurry when you are, as always, providing such excellent hospitality."

Kreel began, thrusting slowly but deeply in smooth motions. He purred with pleasure. The demon let out nothing but a quiet, barely audible rumble from the back of its throat. Kreel dropped his head to the back of its own and ran his tongue across the molten surface.

"Every year you challenge me, and every year I win." Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. "And yet, every year you come back to lose again." Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. "And I know why. You love this." Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. "I can feel it. Your pleasure. It burns through you. You stink of it." Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.

As Kreel approached a climax he slowed down rather than speeding up, drawing out the waves of scalding pleasure coursing through him. Drawing out the wonderful squeezing sliding sensation as he pushed in and out. Drawing out the feeling of the demon's burning heat caressing his chest, his legs, his tongue, his groin, his cock. And most of all, drawing out the feeling of winning, of pumping his victory into a defeated foe.

He let out a rasping shriek as he came, ecstasy searing through him hotter than any flame, claws digging deeper into the demon's unresisting flesh. As he slowed and finally stopped, the demon carried on with its low rumbling hum of pleasure.

They lay together at length, still and silent, Kreel's tongue sometimes flicking out to caress the back of the demon's neck. At last he pulled himself free and dismounted, and offered a leg to help the demon slowly to its feet. It stood, flaming brightly, its cock rising proud and dancing with flame. But Kreel knew, from years of experience, that it would make no move against him now. It had been defeated. He let it reach out a hand to take his cock, its fingers wiping it clean of come, and then turned his back on it, nestling sleepily down on the top of his hoard.

"Glorious, my fiend, glorious. Such a shame you must go home unsated yet again, but there's always next year, hmm? Maybe it'll be the year you finally take me?"

Suddenly there were strong burning hands grasping his tail, pulling him sharply backwards. Too surprised to do anything else, as he found himself pulled free from the treasure pile he dug four sets of claws into the floor, scoring four sets of shrieking grooves into the stone. He snarled in shock and anger: it couldn't do this! He'd beaten it! But by the time he recovered his senses the demon was on top of him, its legs pinning down his rear, one hand on the scales between his wings, keeping his chest and belly pressed hard against the floor, making movement impossible, the other hand lifting up his tail.

"What's this? Being beaten once wasn't enough for you? You want me to take you again?"

Kreel had never before imagined that he might lose. His vanity didn't allow it. Even now, hopelessly pinned in a compromising position by the demon, he was confident in the ability of his cunning and insidious tongue to talk himself free. He bent round his long neck to address it eye to eye.

"My fiend, I..." But before he could say any more the demon shot out a hand to clasp around his jaws and hold them tightly shut.

Kreel fumed. He struggled, he heaved, he squirmed, he beat his wings, he whirled his tail, but it was no good. The demon finally had him at its mercy and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

As it moved to position its cock against his rump, it resumed the deep rumbling throb of pleasure from the back of its throat. Kreel stared aghast into two red eyes blazing with lustful intent. Aghast that he'd been tricked into relaxing his guard completely. Tricked by a mere demon!

He didn't stop struggling. As the demon tried to push inside him he squeezed himself closed as tightly as he could, a battle between his clenched muscles and the broad, blazing tip of the demon's insistent shaft. It was a close thing; the surface of its cock seemed as slippery and unsolid as the rest of it, and it was never more than a momentary lapse of effort from penetrating the sphincter and sliding irresistibly in. But as he felt the pressure ease, and saw the demon slump forwards as though exhausted, Kreel knew he had won and exulted.

It was another trick. As the dragon gloried in his perceived victory, the demon thrust its hips forwards violently, penetrating him in a single motion. Kreel shuddered and tried to cry out as the massive molten member forced itself into him, stretching him wide; a flash of pain and shock quickly subsided to give way to immense indignation barely masking immense satisfaction. The pressure, the burning heat, the sheer size of it inside him exhilarated him. He knew he should be spitting with rage, but found himself falling still, no longer struggling but just lying there relishing the sensation.

The demon released his mouth from its grip, and stroked its fingers fondly across the back of his head and his neck. Kreel said nothing. There was nothing to say.

He moaned as the demon began pushing in and out, slowly, oozing hotly back and forwards inside him, driving him wild. Staring into its eyes, he willed it to go faster, and gradually it did, the thrusts building in speed and power and pleasure. Kreel gaped, overcome by the heightening sensation, no sound escaping from his mouth beyond a low gurgling purr. The demon's steady throaty rumble of pleasure gave way to a pulsing roar of rapture, echoing thickly round the chamber.

At last Kreel's voice joined it, wailing wordlessly. The demon was still gaining speed and power, hammering itself into him, each thrust a jolt of burning heat and burning force and burning pleasure. Kreel found himself trying to move his hips in rhythm with its pounding cock, and felt his own shaft again stiffening beneath him. The demon beat relentlessly, faster and faster, harder and harder, its flames burning hotter and hotter, its roar screaming louder and louder, the dragon quivering and wailing and gasping, until it came, and Kreel felt its searing hot seed spurt into him, again and again and again.

After the demon's thrusting had subsided, it released the dragon and pulled itself free. They faced each other and shared a tired and tender kiss.

"I won," Kreel insisted shakily, "remember that I won. I always win, and I always will! That... was just a consolation prize."

The demon lifted him gently into its arms, without resistance, and deposited him carefully on top of his bed of gold. Turning, it began the long walk back to the dark depths in which it lived.

"I look forward to beating you again next year!" called the dragon. And then quieter, to himself: "but maybe, once I've spent myself again in your worthless defeated body, I'll let you have another consolation prize."

When the demon had gone, and nothing remained of it but lingering scents of stagnant fire and sex, Kreel snuggled down on his golden bed and closed his eyes. As he drifted into sleep, he felt sore and stretched and thoroughly satisfied.