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06-03-2017, 03:36 PM
graasvoel
The smallest of grins (equal parts satisfied and anticipatory) curved up the corners of his thick, dark lips as she accepted the brush of his muzzle and gentle smoothing of her feathers; and a warmth further heated his red-hot raptor gaze. He lingered there for a few moments, enjoying the satin smoothness of her feathers, deceptively soft as he pressed them into the hard bands of steely muscle that lined her wings.
His study of the blue the brushed her muzzle was interrupted, finding his gaze drawn up to her electric one when she answered his questions. A roguish smile slowly curved his muzzle as his brows raised at her word choice of ‘gentle.’ And then they rose even further as she so easily rank-dropped; a surprised, impressed (and appreciative) growling hum sounded from his throat.
“So then I am graced with royalty,” was his gruff rumble as he drew partly away, dipping his head and partly bending a knee in a faux (but partly serious), shallow bow, “My lady.” Red and yellow eyes gleamed playfully up at the strongly beautiful lines of her face. Then, he rose, allowing himself only one lingering glance across the sensuous curves of her shoulder, flank, and haunch, before taking a half-step towards her once more.
“A master of his craft knows when to be gentle—” again, his muzzle reached out towards her; though, this time, his seeking lips sought to brush away the lingering droplets of saltwater at her lower neck and chest, “—And when to be firm,” and, with that, his tender lips drew back as his teeth sought to land a rough bite at the juncture of her neck and chest. A mischievousness gleamed in his eye as his massive wingspan attempted spread wide around her, seeking to faux-trap her into his teasing nip and embrace.
The tide was slowly crowding in, beginning to tickle his barrel, and stir around the heat that was growing beneath. It had been a long while (a very long while) since Graasvoel had felt such instant, easy attraction to a mare. And it was this that was the center of his very existence. So he was enjoying it greatly.
“Tell me of this desert ’heat’.”
His study of the blue the brushed her muzzle was interrupted, finding his gaze drawn up to her electric one when she answered his questions. A roguish smile slowly curved his muzzle as his brows raised at her word choice of ‘gentle.’ And then they rose even further as she so easily rank-dropped; a surprised, impressed (and appreciative) growling hum sounded from his throat.
“So then I am graced with royalty,” was his gruff rumble as he drew partly away, dipping his head and partly bending a knee in a faux (but partly serious), shallow bow, “My lady.” Red and yellow eyes gleamed playfully up at the strongly beautiful lines of her face. Then, he rose, allowing himself only one lingering glance across the sensuous curves of her shoulder, flank, and haunch, before taking a half-step towards her once more.
“A master of his craft knows when to be gentle—” again, his muzzle reached out towards her; though, this time, his seeking lips sought to brush away the lingering droplets of saltwater at her lower neck and chest, “—And when to be firm,” and, with that, his tender lips drew back as his teeth sought to land a rough bite at the juncture of her neck and chest. A mischievousness gleamed in his eye as his massive wingspan attempted spread wide around her, seeking to faux-trap her into his teasing nip and embrace.
The tide was slowly crowding in, beginning to tickle his barrel, and stir around the heat that was growing beneath. It had been a long while (a very long while) since Graasvoel had felt such instant, easy attraction to a mare. And it was this that was the center of his very existence. So he was enjoying it greatly.
“Tell me of this desert ’heat’.”
@Ampere
I KNOW THIS IS EONS OLD (-blows off dust-), but I have so much fun writing him to Ampere ;-; We can end it here OR KEEP GOING -chants-
Please tag Graasvoel in all posts.
