The Virgin and the Dragon

"Then how do you feel about page thirty? Or even page fourteen, if you're up for something a little more adventurous."

He closed his eyes and thought about it, his cock throbbing as his imagination worked.

"Page one," he said at last. There was no question or room for compromise in his voice.

"Page one," she agreed.

It didn't take much to get into position. She simply rolled over onto her back and the dragon stood over her, his legs either side of her naked body, his great wings spread, his penis poised and ready. Fluid seeped from the tip, and as she lay there a single drop fell onto her thigh, warm and tingling.

Rhian gazed up at him. Something was different... her feelings towards him had changed. There was still the burning sexual desire, but there was also something deeper, more personal, more intimate that went beyond mere sex.

"Before we do this, Iorwerth, I just want to thank you for giving me more than I came here for."

"More? Isn't this exactly what you came here for?"

"No. I came to get fucked by a dragon. I never expected to make love to one."

He stared down at her for a moment, perhaps as though himself seeing her in a new way, and then leant down to kiss her. Lips nuzzled against scaled lips; she kissed him whole-heartedly and he responded by lapping his tongue amorously over her mouth.

"Are you ready to unambiguously lose your virginity?" she asked.

"More than I ever thought I could be, thanks to you."

She reached up to brush his cock with her fingers. Then, grasping it firmly, she pulled him gently down until its tip rested just within the parted folds of her opening, ready to push deep inside her with a single powerful thrust of his hips.

"I'm going to push it in very slowly," he said, "and if you feel even the slightest pain I want you to tell me immediately."

She looked down at the thick, slick javelin of flesh ready to spear into her, and up at the red-black scaled bulk of Iorwerth, his golden eyes gazing down at her with a mix of concern and affection and raging lust. She traced a fond finger around the line of his jaw.

"You know, I've fantasised about being in this situation a thousand times in different ways. And the reality isn't like any of them. It's better. Push yourself in, Iorwerth. I need to have you inside me."

She spread her legs wider as he pushed ever so gently, and then slightly firmer. For a moment she was afraid that his fears had been justified and he wouldn't fit inside her, but then as the dragon pushed a little harder she felt herself yield to him, the head of his cock and several inches sliding fluidly into her. She gasped. She felt so incredibly stretched, but not so far that it hurt - in fact, the tight pressure of his considerable dragonhood partly within her felt incredible. She was desperate for more.

"How does it feel, Rhian? I'm not too much for you, I hope?"

"No no, you're perfect," she gasped, meaning it in every way. "Please, come in further."

Iorwerth pushed, and he eased in a little deeper, making her sigh in blissful satisfaction. "I don't know how much of me you can take, you'll have to tell me when to stop," he said, his voice throbbing with desire.

"Further," she whispered, "I'll let you know when I can't take any more."

She stared down in fascination as another inch of the dragon disappeared inside her, and then another. The stretched, full sensation of him within her penetrated deeper and deeper, and when it was finally time to say "stop" the sound came out only as a weak wisp of a sound. Looking at the result, she was amazed to see the majority of his prodigious shaft buried within her.

There was no more reason to speak. Instead he bent his neck down to kiss her again, his rough tongue slipping in to slide sweetly against her own, filling her mouth with his delicious fiery scent and spicy taste. And with his lips nestled against her lips and his tenderest part nestled deeply within her tenderest part, she felt that there was a moment of perfect connection between them both, such that years of mere words could never have achieved.

He started slowly, cautiously, easing himself in and out of her in gradual motions as though probing her capacity, but nevertheless enough to make her sigh in contentment as she felt herself stretch and unstretch around his ample dragonhood. While he worked her he gazed down at her with his great golden eyes, frowning in concentration, apparently studying her face to see what effects his ministrations were having upon her. As he sped up into a steady fuck he lost the studious look. His eyes glazed over in intense personal pleasure and he missed Rhian's open-mouthed stare of ecstasy as his shaft slid sumptuously backwards and forwards between her legs, each thrust feeling deeper and more all-consuming than the last.

She stared up at Iorwerth in wonder and disbelief. His dark scales glinted red as his mighty chest heaved above her, his outspread wings trembling. His serpentine neck twisted and writhed expressively, long tongue flickering over slightly parted teeth, golden eyes staring at nothing, overcome by the sensation. Looking down she let her eyes rest on the source of their mutual pleasure: the dragon's powerful hind quarters, one leg firmly planted either side of her hips, grinding relentlessly back and forwards into her, his tail swishing responsively about her ankles. Each stroke drove divinely into her being, each sending her a little closer to the edge. And he never lost his touch; his fucking never lost its precise, brutal delicacy, never degenerated into mere mechanical rutting, never lost its ability to make Rhian shake and silently gasp in a heaven all of her own.

He paused and shifted his position, dropping lower and closer, his scaled chest pressed gently against her belly and breasts. She could feel from the building heat of him, both against her skin and deep inside her, that he wasn't far from a climax, and probing her own tightly coiled lust she realised that neither was she. As he resumed his rhythmic thrusting she knew they were both moving into the final, furious phase. Remembering the hot and heavy torrent of his last orgasm, she pictured the same flood pouring into the heart of her and an agreeable shudder rippled down her spine.

Iorwerth, as desperate as she to reach the giddy thrill of orgasm, was now fucking her with even more fervour than before. His muscular scaled hips pistoned back and forth faster and more powerfully, holding nothing back, bringing her to a new height of ecstasy as his girthsome cock pulsed rapidly inside her. Gone was his self-control, his restraint, his delicacy, and in its place was pure primal passion, a fierce and animal lust, uncontrollable, uncompromisable, unstoppable.

Rhian screamed: a wild, wordless scream of uncontainable rapture that burst out of her and echoed chaotically from the cave walls. She stared up at the dragon, meeting the stare of his golden eyes which were fixed unblinkingly on her own. Again she screamed, and again; using her voice as an urgent vent for the unendurable pleasure he was pumping into her, more and more intense with every moment. And Iorwerth began to growl in harmony, a deep throbbing thunderous sound, their two voices mingling in the air and filling the space around them.

Faster he fucked her and faster. She was falling headlong towards a climax but the dragon's scaled skin was feeling hotter and hotter against her own, his pumping shaft almost unbearably warm inside her; his growl had expanded into an expansive and urgent roar, smoke billowing potently from his mouth, and gasping air between screams of joy she wondered desperately who would come first...

Iorwerth's roar cut off abruptly. Arching his neck upwards he let a great arc of brilliant flame escape from his mouth, and at the same moment he exploded into her. The sensation of the searing liquid bursting into the core of her, wave after wave, filling her, tipped her over the edge into her own climax. For a moment the world seemed to lose focus, nothing existing except the pure, distilled sensation of her orgasm burning madly around his still spasming cock.

The moment seemed to stretch out into a glorious eternity, until at last she found the outside world swimming back into hazy existence; the fire inside her fading, quenched. Iorwerth gazed down at her, panting, and as soon as he'd recaught his breath kissed her tenderly on the lips. She tried to lift her head, to kiss him back, but found that an incredible weariness was saturating her, disabling her and pulling her irresistibly towards sleep. She tried to form words, to explain it, but all she could manage was an indistinct mumble and a silly smile.

Vaguely she was aware of the dragon lying himself down beside her. With the very last of her strength she reached out an arm to wrap around the scaled warmth of his body, and let herself sink into a deep and satisfied sleep.

* * *

The valley looked beautiful in the sunlight. The hills which had seemed dark and brooding the night before now looked green and vivid, inviting her to wander and lose herself amongst them.

But already the sun was sinking low in the sky as the summer evening threatened to fade into night. Sitting on the gently sloping grass outside Iorwerth's cave, Rhian smiled to herself as she remembered how she'd spent her afternoon.

"You know," she said, "I still have your taste in my mouth from page six."

The dragon, sprawled next to her, rumbled pleasantly as he recalled it. Curling himself languidly, he stretched his tail to his mouth and delicately licked it.

"And I still have the taste of you on my tail from page fifty-two. Long may it stay there, as a pleasant reminder of a perfect day."

"Here, if it's a reminder you're after..." Reaching for her sketchbook, she leafed through, tearing out every drawing they'd enacted from page one to page seventy-eight with quite a lot in-between. The book felt significantly lighter as she handed the loose sheets over to Iorwerth, who glanced through them, nodding happily.

"And I suppose you'll have some new works of art for me to ogle next time you come see me?"

She smiled. "Lots more. You've given me plenty of inspiration."

A wistful look clouded his features. "You really have to go now?"

"Yes, I'm sorry, but dreary, normal life beckons. Last train in an hour, and I need to be on it. But I'll be back. As soon as I can."

"It would be my honour to give you a lift to the station."

"You mean..." she looked at the dragon's great folded wings and grinned. "I'd love that. And while we're in the air together... how do you feel about page sixty-six?"

A fire lit up in his eyes at the thought. "Mmm," he growled, "in that case, how do you feel about setting off right now?"

"Right now sounds like the best possible time. How do you want me?"

He beckoned her over and in a few moments had her arms and legs wrapped securely around the dragon's belly, pressed against his soft underside, one of his great paws clasping her protectively to him.

"Comfortable, my beautiful Rhian?"

"Supremely, my gorgeous Iorwerth."

The dragon unfurled his enormous wings and, with a single downwards beat, lifted them both gently into the air.