Sweltering

She was damp to the touch. It clung to his fingers as readily as glue, but slid as smooth as oil. Feeling the quivering of her legs he drew his hand away. There was the briefest wimper of protest, which was soon replaced by another warning growl. Not the usual growls of irritance, aggravation and strained temper. This one held all the threat a noise could. He raised a finger, and began to quest. Her flesh was soft, and soon began to split. It spread over the tip of his finger, warmly and invitingly. Smooth skin enveloped him as a quick intake of breath sounded before him. A long tense moment ensued, her breath seemingly caught in her throat as she quivered around him for a moment. There was a sudden weight, and she slid the rest of the way down his finger with a gasp.

The grip tightened as Gorhasht wriggled his way to a sitting position. Bringing his other hand around to cup her ass and squeeze her lower back he raised her up to just above his waist. Never having a chance to explore her breasts before he now took the chance with gusto. The grip around his horns went limp and he felt the simple weight of her head resting on his own. They were firm, soft, and smooth. Well underlined with a support of muscle. The delicate hairs that covered her body fell short at the nipples, leaving them exposed, hardened and warm to the caressing of his tongue.

She was electric. She was the goddess of the flames. The primal huntress. The culmination of all life. This act, this deed, here and now with this Tauren. Her breath was off, the rhythm was wrong and it kept hitching in her throat. She wanted to grind down, pressing onto the firmness filling her. Stretching out her legs with a groan she managed to pull herself off of him. It was hard to see in the dark, but he was there all right. A firm, hot, twitching length of flesh that had begun to drip into his navel. Wrapping one hand around it she lifted the length away and up. His own hide was twitching now, she could feel the tremors that passed through his thighs and stomach as she moved over him. It smelled interesting. Not unpleasant, though far from nice, and yet it had an allure all its own to it.

Niethan had once made something for them, when they were younger. Gelatin he had called it. It wriggled, and danced when prodded much the amusement of the then young Kintala. Bits of it had melted before she'd finished it. And the fluid Gorhasht leaked now had a texture like that. She lapped at some of the substance out of his fur, spreading it around the roof of her mouth. Then began to spread it over his slightly bowed cock. Her hands kneeded into the flesh while she brought herself up to breathe his scent into the large face. Faint insults roiled through her head, danced on the tip of her tongue in the clear precum, but she bit them back.

The tusks were pressing to his lips again. Her tongue moving incessantly into his mouth as her weight shifted. The wonderfully dexterous three fingered hands halted and pulled him back further. The warmth of her face was gone, and for a moment all he knew was the hard grip on his member. Then the warmth that seemed to spread out and roll over the very tip of his crown. She slid down further eliciting a moan of pleasure from the blind form beneath her. Despite the incredible searing heat she carried in her it didn't hurt. Her walls clenched around him, feeling like they were trying to shove the flesh from him in search of a steel core. The Tauren pressed blindly upwards, his body instinctively trying to burry itself in the velvety warmth.

It was all Kintala could do to hold herself there, letting the massive creature beneath her press itself into her. It hurt, too. But it filled a need, an aching longing that shunt aside whatever pain manifest. She began to roll her hips back and forth, the dancing lessons her mother had given letting her roll with the flesh inside of her. Faster and faster she went, letting the circles she wove grow smaller and smaller until she bounced up and down on him. Sensitive lips dragged longingly against the smooth flesh as she rose, drawing him out only to curl tightly on themselves when she slid back down. Each thrust was ecstasy, and the reverse motion brought with it the longing to be filled.

Gorhasht wasn't paying much attention to her anymore. His thoughts had turned inwards, towards the sensations she caused. His body was tightening. Her flesh, slick on hot with her juices still dragged on him. Lines of muscles beneath the thin skin arched out and gripped his cock, they tugged on his flesh. In waves they came, pulling rhythmically on him as she tried to pull him deeper. It made him gasp, the long fleshy rod straining against nothing in particular within her. It would pulse, stretching so tight he feared the skin must give way. His back was tense, and there was a pressure that rose and fell within him. It grew and grew while the hot flesh twisted and turned around him, pulling him this way and that. It was too much, too much to bear. His thick arm reached out to curl around her back. It pulled her down off her feet to collapse onto his chest while his legs pressed him as deeply as he could fit into the creature above him. Wave after wave of fluid pulsed out, sinking deeply into the hot folds that even now pulled him ever inwards.

She struggled for purchase for a moment, heaving her self up while her lover went limp beneath her. With a sliding squish she pulled herself of the deflating member. Hoisting herself to her knees, energized flesh demanding more. Acting on memories of her parents her hands darted out once more to the large horns before her.

There was a moisture on his nose. Dampness dripping down along silky smooth thighs released a fresh surge of longing in Gorhasht. The hands tugging at him insistently, he let his tongue slip out past his lips. She was growling again, her frustration boiling over into a wrath towards him as she waited for what was to come. The firm, thick, and above all warm tongue made contact lightly, deliberately at long last with aching flesh. It traced down beneath the hairs and into a pair of lips beneath.

It was too much for her. Her body started to quake and the guiding grip quickly became a stabilizing necessity as Kintala's legs threatened to give out beneath her. She moaned quietly, urging the muscle to return. The chest extending beneath her she growled still, the noise mixing into a noise of pure wanton lust. A wind of hot breath preceding it, Gorhasht's tongue came once more to press against her sex. Then it slipped up onto the button of flesh nestled at the head of her moist valley and she really did collapse. Arcs of blazing cold electricity arced up her spine, changing as they went to an impossible number of felt-tipped claws hooking into her brain.

He shifted again, his arm going around the back of her thighs to hoist the convulsing figure to a more pleasing angle, shook his head out and tended to his ministrations, vaguely aware of the pattering of his own fluids dripping out onto his chest. Mildly surprised he found that she bore a taste mostly of lemon, which he continued to explore. She was moaning now, and grinding her hips into his face, her body screaming for the work he did. A strange flower bloomed beneath his tongue, folds upon folds continued to open, occasionally closing onto the tip of the warm moist flesh slickening the area. A new flavor was rising now, uncovered by the ministrations of his tongue he found the taste of wet skin. Unique, individual, the truest taste of Kintala that could be found.

While aware beyond any thought of the actions of the tongue beneath her, many of the subtleties of it's work were lost as the broad flat muscle probed her. She took notice however when it dipped into the still damp hole that bore him earlier. It wriggled and pressed, teasing the flesh open to accept her lover once more inside of her. She could hear him, vaguely, the tongue squishing and slurping amongst their mingled juices. Quietly it slipped back out, running along back to fondle her clitoris. Another spasm wracked her body, leaving Kintala shivering as she managed to struggle back upright. Her muscles were crying out, demanding to work. Her skin itched and tingled with suppressed energies.

As she fell back again Kintala recognized the length pressing into her neck and hair. Gorhasht seemed to be enjoying herself and this was a chance to stretch. Working her arms and legs under her Kintala pressed down, arching her back up. Letting her head lull down she saw the twitching mass pointing at her as another drop of the smooth oil glistened at the tip.

There was a new warmth, and Gorhasht was the one to shudder this time. Her own tongue was lithe, inquisitive and above all insistent. It trailed around in circles around the head, occasionally dipping beneath the mushroom cap to explore the skin beneath. He pushed himself up again, aching to feel more of the warmth around him as that thick firm tongue pressed itself against the length sliding past. He winced every now and then, sharp teeth occasionally pressing into the sensitive skin. There was a pressure shortly after, an odd sensation that felt like it was pressing and squeezing him into himself, but he knew was actually pulling. In again he pressed, his clenched buttocks holding the massive waist into the air and into the tight seal of flesh wrapped around him.

She wanted to gag, but didn't. He'd press forward into her mouth and press at the entrance to her throat. It blocked her airway and sent filled her neck uncomfortably. Still, she did her best not to, and to watch her teeth. It was difficult, the cold waves of lightning that made her shoulders struggle in their skin, and the effects of his own tongue on her. It was somewhat strange. She knew there would be a hood of flesh, but had never experienced one like this before. It was soft, but not so smooth as the flesh that lay under it. It fell back with her motions, causing Gorhasht to moan and thrust deeper into her mouth as she ran the tip of her tongue along the smoothness it hid. Beneath her she could see the hide of his belly pulling taught. It curled in around itself as though trying to escape the tickling presence of her hair, leaving only the hardened cock to distract the bull from his own working tongue. It wasn't long before the flesh stretched out, its tip opening beneath her tongue to gush ever more fluid into her mouth. It was sticky, wet, and clumped. Not at all like the fluid he dripped before. It was salty, yet with an underlying sweetness. Quietly her tongue stroked the cock head as she swallowed the mess.

First the lemony sweet skin pulled down, the softness of her ass settling on his chest while a pair of lips dragged slowly off his failing cock head. The brush of tusks against the hyper sensitive flesh causing him to curl instantly and nearly dislodge her. He lay panting for a moment while she shifted around, gripping his flesh. There was a snort, and he felt her fingers sinking deeper into the flaccid flesh.

Quickly he sat up, pushing his hand out and groping around until he made contact with the warm curvature of her breasts. Gripping the torso he pulled her down into his bed, laying her back while shifting to kneel beside her. His hand already placed, Gorhasht leaned down to find the two hard tusks that would announce her lips to his own. As soon as Kintala felt the large tongue parting her lips a pair of arms wrapped around the back of the Tauren's head, locking together just behind his horns. The hand that rested on her chest began to travel downwards, large fingers seeking out the warmth she held. His fingers slid along her underside, against the still moist hole and up into the cleft of her buttocks. There was a sharp inhalation as he probed the tight rim of her anus, but it soon quieted. As he pulled back he pressed up, the length of his finger sliding along across her clit.

As his finger once more penetrated into her, filling the aching need resounded through her body she clamped her legs shut around his hand. It wouldn't get away from her. Not this time. She wasn't done yet. She rode his finger, crushing the hand that nestled between her thighs to hold it in place. It wasn't enough though. With agonizing slowness the hand began to slip away, the passage eased by Kintala's own lubricant.

She thrashed out, grabbing at the hand only to have her wrist grabbed and wrenched away. A long horn struck into the underside folding her legs up even as she kicked down at him with her feet. He was shushing her, and grabbed her leg with the hand that gripped her arm and pressed them both into her chest. Then managed to get her other leg and arm folded into her torso. He held her there, as she thrashed her neck about, cursing and spitting as Gorhasht lifted her off the floor.

There it was again, the rock hard shaft of flesh that rose to pierce into her. Kintala's head snapped back, her muscles gone rigid. White hot ecstasy poured through her as the delightfully solid flesh once more part her. Gorhasht was pulling her down, he had her pinned and was not going to be stopped. Good. Let him. Let his flesh fill her. Let his seed pulse into her. She strained against his massive hands. Her muscles screaming a symphony of radiant life as her arms pulled free of the grasp. Beneath her they went. She would feel herself stretched around her lover. And there was more. He pulled down on her, jamming more and more of his length into her until Kintala cried out for a mingled fear and ecstacy. She felt she would burst, but her needs quenched as he did so. She could feel him there. Despite his tugging there was nowhere left to go, and a good handful of the massive beast still protruded from her hips. She grabbed onto it, and squeezed hard. It pulsed beneath, expanding in every direction to come against her.

He lifted her again, sliding her up. She wouldn't let go. Above all else the fingers gripped into him, as though she'd pull herself back down if he lifted to high. He was feeling light headed, now. All that Gorhasht knew was a fiery moisture enveloping him and a grip like iron that stretched his skin over his flesh as it was lifted. Down he pulled, the grips pressing him down into himself, yet up into her. There was a wall in there, one he could not pass though he longed to. When he pulled up again he could feel her grip slipping, her finger's purchase stolen by the juices that even now seeped out from around their juncture. Walls clamped down hard, tugging on him as he lifted. Warm, moist and pulling she fought his lift until only a few scant breadths of flesh remained in contact. Harshly he pulled down, his breath failing at the electric contact that brought them together.

She gasped out as he grew still more. Surely he must have redoubled twice by now, but still her stretched flesh cried for more. He swelled in her grasp, a pressure building that her firmly clasped hands fought to contain even as her own mind was shot blank by the force invading the young shamaness. Breath failed her as the large creature that held her gripped her tightly and forced her down around him. The pressure burst forth from past her fingers, shooting up into her with all the strength the Tauren could muster as he spilled himself out into her velvet depths. Clumps of the fluid dripped out from between the two of them to patter softly onto her hands as they both Tauren and Troll locked into a montage of fulfillment.

The dawn broke outside, and Gorhasht began to stir. He was stopped by a pressure around his arm and a familiar tension in the air that sounded of habitual wrath.

"I need to get up."

"You're staying."

"The day has begun already."

"Let it."

"It's my arm."

"I have a knife. That can change."

He chuckled softly to himself and lay back down in his still sweat dampened bed. The pressure around his arm relaxed, and the warm curve of her spine pressed back into his side. Soft hair fell, and the gentle weight of a head met his shoulder.

She was so seldom at peace, he could spare another hour or two for her to snuggle with his arm.