.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
02-18-2016, 04:03 PM
|
Isopia Does your imagination try to make you what you wanted to be? Because I'm sorry I do what I did, but it came naturally Just want me- And though they continue to move as one, she isn’t sure that he does. Not in the way she needs. She needs to be special, if only just once. Lie and say that I am- -that you do- Her mind is gone now, which is both a blessing and a curse. Where it still around, it would not only chastise her for this wishful thinking, but also shine a cold light on her poor reasoning. But you aren’t special.. she would tell yourself. You know he is this way, you’ve talked about it. He told you about his insatiable hunger, and now you dangle flesh before him and think that you offer him something new? Just want me- But her body blinded itself against the rationality of her mind, and Isopia bathed in the feeling of uniqueness. She imagined Volterra to be thinking that somehow her flesh - the scent of her skin, the subtle sweat still lingering from her flight, the ripple of her coat - was better than all those he had tasted before. That the height of her hips and withers, rather than being intimidating or someone emasculating, were instead a challenge. She was a pinnacle, not merely because of her Godly blood, but because of her body as well. Her eyelashes fluttered as she felt him move against her. Though she was the child of the earth, it was he who felt like a mountain. [something something daddy issues] But her body ignored that too. Not unlike him, Isopia is unable to find any words to match the desperate antics inside of herself. Her lips open, as if she is encouraging words to just fall out, but instead she finds her teeth pulling against his dark flesh instead. It isn’t hard per se, though Isopia, a demigoddess with innate healing abilities who has never once touched another in this manner is perhaps not a terribly good judge of appropriate force. She hums what might have been a word of encouragement into the rigid muscles that she danced her lips over, and gives up trying to use words to infiltrate this moment. One ear flickered backwards as she felt him sway to her right - his bulk now pressing decidedly against her right shoulder and wing. Breathe- And she did, in a puff of excited and anxious air. This was it. What days and months and years had finally accumulated to. The sensation of their tentatives touches in her hottub all those seasons ago seemed so … so common. Oh, their shoulders had touched? And their knees too? How grand. It was nothing compared to this. She had thought that her body yearned for him then - and a thousand times after - but never like this. This was raw, escalating out of her very bone marrow and informing literally all of her movements. There wasn’t a hair on her head which wasn’t intently focused on where their bodies touched, the sound and scent of him, and most strongly, her need for him. Whatever hesitation she might have wanted to offer - to coyly hold her wing against him a while longer whether out of fear or teasing - was eliminated by her ever quickening heartbeat. She had known when this all began, that she would yield to him. Despite the strong challenge that in one way, she believed herself to be, in another, she was a victory that he already held. He had championed her seasons ago, likely without knowing it. She didn’t even really know how strong the tether was that bound her to him, until this very moment. Even that utter lack of autonomy didn’t bother Iso in her present state. Perhaps she would dwell on it later, but for now, she was utterly intoxicated by his scent, happily drunk on the overwhelming passion that stimulated and exhilarated every part of her being, stemming from his simple touch. Her wing raised like a draw bridge, allowing him entrance into a fortress no longer impregnable. Her feathers would trail along the length of his spine and flank should he pass beneath. But she couldn’t simply stand there, watching him go, now could she. Clueless though she was, Isopia assumed that she was still expected to be doing something. And so the right side of her body pressed against his, and she continued to engorge herself on the parts of him that she could reach. Although her mind swirled with thoughts of, Am I doing this right? Having I been nibbling too long? Does he like this? What should I be doing? she continued to merely allow her instincts and what few visual cues she had to work off of, to direct her gestures. On the rock, Hubris was nearly just as uncertain about what he should be doing. Leaping silently into the air, the bronze dragon glided towards Verzes and Vadir, his blue eyes awash with confusion. <<Good?>> He trilled, his voice low, trying not to disturb the mammoth creatures investigating each other nearby. <<or bad?>> He honestly didn’t know. On the one hand, it pleased him immensely to think that Isopia might find happiness with another. But he knew the dark corners of her mind and how she thought. She rallied against relationships - strove to be as autonomous as possible. This sort of thing might have been good for the run of the mill mare. But would it be good for Iso? Hubris wrapped his tail around his legs and folded his wings tightly against his back, as he searchingly looked at the other dragons for help, or input. @Volterra |
