Writing.. Buttsex...
.. obviously procrastinating on art projects..
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Dusky Dawn
Pairing/Series: Mieuseloir B. Enchelles x Leonoyne (Final Fantasy XI)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Mieuseloir B. Enchelles, general of the Crimson Wolf Esquires, spends a little time alone to take a well earned bath. Little does he know, Leonoyne, of the Savage Hound Condottieres, is watching.. and wanting..
Work in Progress.. You may notice that it cuts off at the end with no real ending yet lol
====
Ronfaure forest- lush, and healthy were the large coniferous trees that the morning air was crisp and fresh. A night had come and gone after an orcish attack- another San d'Orian victory- and the casual breeze no longer wafted the scent of gunpowder and smoke. A refreshing morning, for a well-earned bath.
Mieuseloir B. Enchelles, leader of the Crimson Wolf Esquires, picked his way around craters and ruptured battlements, heading towards the Cheval river that bisected East Ronfaure. His platoon was camped at the outpost, and from what little movement stirred in camp, he could tell his soldiers were still sleeping away, getting every precious second in before the morning trumpets blew. One would think that slipping off all in his lonesome was a terrible idea, he was bound to get ambushed- but Mieuseloir was confident in the mighty Kingdom's military intelligences, and there was no orcish raid to be had in days, according to sources.
Not only was he headed there for a much wanted bath, and some time to himself- there was an object of great interest to him near the Cheval river mouth up north. A strange floating creature that appeared to be a cavernous maw. When studied in the past, the floating maw that exuded a strange purple mist seemed to be uninterested in its observers, and contrary to its fearsome visage, was quite harmless.
Setting his sword and shield down against a tree, Mieuseloir squatted down beside the roots and stared, transfixed, at the curiosity several yards away, hovering at the edge of the clearing where forest met stone. Moments passed, and nothing from the giant that continued to bob in the air, meters from the ground.
Mieuseloir sighed and dropped his vigilant spying on a boring creature that did nothing. He constantly came out here to look at it, hoping it would one day show its true colors and do something, but alas, to no end and no change.
One self-appointed task complete, meant for his second task at hand: bathing. Not to say that the proud Elvaan were an uncleanly lot, but when stationed with a platoon, there was rarely any time to one self, let alone, private time to bathe. Back to back battles, and constant patrolling cut time for other daily necessities, most regretfully, hygiene.
Removing the feral-looking mask he wore, Mieuseloir began to undress, unstrapping and setting aside carefully the heavy armor that all prominent generals were issued with the proud colors of San d'Oria. Chainmail, dastanas, breeches and greaves soon joined sword and shield, and the Elvaan shivered a little. All the stuffy armor now gone, left him in underthings that did little to hide from chill.
Sighing, Mieuseloir discarded his undershirt, and tiptoed his way carefully down to the bank of the river. He winced slightly as the cold water met his toes and squatted down by the gently gurgling water, scooping some up in his hands to splash on his face.
“People usually bathe naked, Enchelles.”
Mieuseloir flinched, startled, and slowly lowered his hands to look up across the river at the intruder. The Elvaan at fault, leaned against a large tree, heavy black chainmail glinting menacingly in the dim morning sunlight.
“What happened to courtesy and addressing an officer by rank, Leonoyne?”
Leonoyne shrugged, a predatory smile splitting what was visible of his face under his menacing war sallet. He set his blue and gold greatsword to lean against the tree he occupied, and slid to sit on its roots. With elbows on knees, and hands upon cheeks, he continued to grin at Mieuseloir.
“Well, I suppose I might as well stay and watch the show, seeing as how my spot is occupied.”
“It hardly is anyone's spot, why, I don't see your name carved anywhere.” Mieuseloir retorted with a blush, unnerved by the attention he was receiving from the other Elvaan. Another general, known to lead a troupe of female warriors, the Savage Hounds. Many joked (jealously) that Leonoyne's platoon was a personal harem, yet none dared to say it to his face.
There was an awkward silence between the two, as Mieuseloir hesitantly splashed water on his shoulders and chest, and Leonoyne continued to watch, his expression lecherous.
Leonoyne's eyes followed the trickle of water that dripped down Mieuseloir's body, formed meandering, glistening trails over defined abdominals, coming to seep into the dark hose stretched over the Elvaan's toned thighs. Every droplet that soaked the fabric only made it cling tighter and tighter to a delicious package that Leonoyne yearned to unwrap. He licked his lips slowly, imagining-
“You don't have to stare so intensely..” Mieuseloir began, averting his gaze slightly as he tried to continue his task of washing himself as nonchalantly as he could.
“Would it make you feel better if I joined you?” The Savage Hound asked, in a low voice, chuckling when the other flushed and returned the question with a silent glare.
“Better? Wha- No, I don't think so-”
“So you like it better that I'm watching you-”
“That's not the case!”
“Then, I'll join you.” Mieuseloir made a pretty good imitation of a fish, at a loss for words as Leonoyne stood and began to undress, dropping his black armor with less care and respect than Mieuseloir had shown his own.
“Suit yourself...” The Elvaan was only able to mutter, his eyes glancing up, half curious, as the Savage Hound general kicked sollerets onto the haphazard pile formed of black steel and leather. Mieuseloir's gaze once again turned from the shaggy haired Elvaan when underthings started coming off, and his discomfort only increased tenfold when splashing nearby indicated that the other had joined him.
“Gee, you're shy as a maiden, Enchelles.” Leonoyne teased, slapping some water at the Elvaan who was delicately scrubbing his chest. Earning himself another glare- one that went from his face, to his rather unclothed, and enthusiastic lower body.
At a loss for words, once again, Mieuseloir turned his gaze to the suddenly interesting pebbles at the riverbed.
Amused at the reaction begotten from his nude form, Leonoyne mimicked the shyer Elvaan, squatted down and began to pour water over his messy hair.
Mieuseloir found himself continually distracted by the splashes Leonoyne was making, and kept glancing up only to stare at the other every time his gaze was drawn. The looks didn't go unnoticed by Leonoyne, however, and he began to rub his body in a more provocative manner, his hands straying lower and lower, guiding Mieuseloir's shy glances.
Finding himself indulging in a rare exhibitionist streak, the Savage Hound slid his hands down between his legs, spreading them shamelessly, made an act of washing himself, but lingered a little too long on what kept Mieuseloir's attention so well. Leonoyne smirked to himself, as he noted, that Mieuseloir had quite forgotten his own task of bathing in watching his little performance.
“Enchelles..?” Leonoyne purred, questioningly as he knelt down into the now thigh-deep water, his feet grown sore from squatting, his fingers wrapped around his rigid manhood, stroking it in a casual manner.
“Uh..?” Caught quite red handed, in his case, red faced, Mieuseloir snapped out of his staring. He flushed deep red, shamed that he felt his body coming to attention from the show that Leonoyne was putting on for him. Stammering for something to say, he sat down quickly in the cool water, hoping the other wouldn't have noticed how he was affected, physically, and also hoping that the water would calm the sudden throbbing. The Crimson Wolf covered his face with both hands, breathing deeply to try and relax in such an uncomfortable situation.
Quite suddenly, Mieuseloir didn't feel so secure when he heard a splash move closer, and felt water droplets fall on his head. He lowered his hands to look up, only to stare into Leonoyne's crotch for a split second, before a hand on the back of his head, pushed him face first into it.
“You've been worshiping it with your eyes for a while now, why not worship a little with your mouth?” Leonoyne's voice crooned, gruff and demanding all at once.
Mieuseloir began to protest, his hands pushing at Leonoyne's hips; but as soon as his mouth opened and words tried to come out, something else big and hard was forced between his lips and he growled in disapproval. The Savage Hound's fingers suddenly dug into the back of his neck and he whimpered, choking on the flesh in his mouth. He could feel Leonoyne twitching in his mouth with every little sound he made, and he shivered.
“No teeth, I'm not into that sort of thing.” He yelped as the shaggy haired Elvaan emphasized the point with another pinch to the neck.
After a moment more of struggling, Mieuseloir gave in and shifted onto his knees as the other showed no indication of letting him go without the task at hand complete.
With eyes squeezed shut, the Crimson Wolf bobbed his head slowly, sliding his tongue around the velvety head of Leonoyne's member, his hands on the Elvaan's hips to steady himself. Up, down, up, down, he continued to suck and stroke with his tongue- moving faster with every new grunt and groan Leonoyne made in response.
A part of Mieuseloir was getting excited at what he was doing. The throbbing below had started anew, and his interest began pushing against the thin fabric of his hose.
“Take off your hose before I do it for you.” Leonoyne growled, grabbing Mieuseloir by the hair and pulling the Elvaan off of his member- wincing to himself as it had felt too good, too close, and he had to move on before the pleasure was over all too soon. He took a shaky breath, staring down his body as Mieuseloir fumbled with the offending item of clothing, pushing it down to reveal the tasty bit that he so wanted to see. He felt like a hungry lion, and this lamb was moving too slow, and too temptingly for him to hold back.
Dropping down onto knees with a splash, Leonoyne grabbed the wet fabric and yanked it the rest of the way down Mieuseloir's legs, toppling the Crimson Wolf over as he pulled it off the man and threw it ashore. He didn't even take a moment to survey his prize when he lunged, falling upon Mieuseloir's body with an inflamed passion, lips sought for lips, as hands found their way to needy flesh.
Mieuseloir's gasps of surprise and pleasure sent shudders up Leonoyne's spine, and he wriggled his way between the former's legs, pressing their twin needs together in an aggressive grind. So focused were the two on their mutual pleasure, it was soon too hot for them to feel chilled from the water they laid in.
Leonoyne continued to grind against his prey, increasingly impatient as the lascivious, wet sensations between them made his eyes roll up in his head. The little noises that the Crimson Wolf made were irresistible, and they were driving him crazy with lust.
Lips clashed in another battle, and tongues fought for dominance. It seemed that the wolf had finally found its fangs, and was fighting back for his pride and position.
Mieuseloir's hands came up in an attempt to push Leonoyne off and flip them over, but the Savage Hound was faster- Leonoyne's hands snatched the Elvaan's wrists, pushing them down to either side of the Crimson Wolf's head, holding the man down forcefully. The prostrate Elvaan arched his back, lifting his hips and rubbing their bodies together in a frustrated attempt at throwing Leonoyne off.
“Not a chance, wolf pup, it's a dog's day.” Leonoyne growled, pushing his tongue past Mieuseloir's defenses, plundering the prostrate Elvaan's sweet mouth with fervor.
With a goal in mind, Leonoyne shifted the other's arms up and clasped both of Mieuseloir's wrists with one hand, while the other groped downwards between them, feeling around as his touches made the Crimson Wolf spasm and twitch.
“Nnngh!” Mieuseloir exclaimed as his oppressor's fingers found what they sought, and rubbed him purposefully between his buttocks, concentrating on a single spot that flushed his face with embarrassment. “S-stop that-”
“Hush. Relax, pup..” Leonoyne cooed, tilting his head down to nibble at the Elvaan's neck, working his way down to ravish a rosy nipple, all stiff from arousal. He continued to rub at Mieuseloir, applying more pressure until he was able to push one fingertip inside.
Mieuseloir grunted- conflicted between pleasure and discomfort- and thrashed just slightly at the intrusion. He wasn't sure if he enjoyed the strange sensation at all, and he gritted his teeth, trying to reject Leonoyne's stubbornly curious finger.
“Stop struggling or it will actually hurt.” The Savage Hound commanded, his finger sliding in to the third knuckle. He held still for a moment, until he felt the muscles that were drawn taut around his digit loosen and allowed him some movement.
Taking advantage of what was offered, Leonoyne wiggled his finger around, and pushed it in and out, searching for a special spot within Mieuseloir as the latter whimpered and whined between breathy pants for air. When his pup mewled in his arms with an exploratory stroke, he knew he'd found it.
Without much warning, Leonoyne pushed a second finger in beside the first, and began to stroke at that salacious place, abusing it all to hell just to drive the Elvaan beneath him into a gasping frenzy. The Savage Hound scissored his fingers, stretching the raunchy little nether mouth that seemed to suck his fingers in with unadulterated want, obliging it with a third finger to further prepare Mieuseloir.
“Oh Goddess- Oh Altana- ggnn- damn-” With eyes practically rolling back into his head, Mieuseloir was whispering both praises and curses under his breath, his chest heaving as sweat began to bead on his forehead. He cursed once more when Leonoyne tweaked his nipple with teeth.
“I've never done- nng- this” Gasp! “ before-”
“Don't worry, pup..”
Deeming Mieuseloir quite ready for what was about to come, Leonoyne withdrew his fingers, earning himself a reedy whine of disappointment, as if he had just brought the Elvaan back from the cusp of bliss. Driven with sudden impatience, he freed Mieuseloir's hands from his grip and with both hands, spread the Elvaan's thighs wide apart, rubbing his weeping erection at the very hole he'd just tortured with fingers.
“Relax.. It'll only get better.” The Savage Hound promised, licking his lips hungrily as he pushed just the head of himself inside. Mieuseloir trembled beneath him, mouth agape in a silent cry, and Leonoyne paused, holding his breath. It took all his self control- to the point where he was practically shaking- not to ram his need in to the hilt. Had to make it last. Had to make it worthwhile. He pushed slowly, inch by inch, into Mieuseloir's accepting body until he was sheathed completely, his hips pressing gently against the Elvaan's buttocks.
Leonoyne breathed heavily through his nose, squinching his eyes shut at the tight, hot, virginal tract that closed around his aching member so enticingly. While he enjoyed it immensely, he could not let himself enjoy it before Mieuseloir had had his fill, so to speak.
“Aangh-... ahn..” The little moans that the Elvaan made were pleading. Leonoyne had to soothe Mieuseloir's anguish. He drew out a tiny bit, then pushed back in, repeating the small motion slowly until the other's body seemed to relax and accept the movements readily.
In, out, in, out, each thrust withdrew farther and returned deeper than the last. Each stroke earning another breathless moan that urged Leonoyne's hips onward; stronger, faster, harder, deeper...
The sound of wet skin slapping against each other, and delighted moans soon drowned out the bubbling river.
Leonoyne continued to pound into Mieuseloir's writhing body, his gaze - between bouts where he thought he'd black out- trained to the Elvaan's naughty little nether mouth, eating him up so greedily with each thrust. It was almost too much. He could feel himself climbing and soaring to that point where he could release.
However, Mieuseloir looked troubled, still, despite the positive responses his body had been giving to the Savage Hound's ministrations.
“How.. do you feel?” Leonoyne gritted out, eyebrows furrowing in concentration, slowing down his thrusts to keep himself from reaching that delicious peak.
“Good- aa.. More- please- Need it..” Mieuseloir all but begged, his arms coming up to cover his face as he grimaced, somewhat shamefully.
Leonoyne smirked, amused he could reduce the proud Crimson Wolf into a simpering, needy mess. He granted Mieuseloir his need by wrapping his fingers around Mieuseloir's neglected erection, his eyebrows raising when the member throbbed in his grip. He stopped moving all together- and his body screamed at him for release.
“Stop covering your face-”
“Move- Please..!”
“Show me your face-”
Mieuseloir sobbed, chest heaving, his hips writhing, but Leonoyne's firm grip kept him steady. He slowly lowered his arms, his hands coming down into the shallow bank water to dig his fingers into river-worn pebbles.
“I want to watch you when you cum..” Leonoyne explained, gently, as he observed the pained expression on the Elvaan's face, grinning slightly as he pulled out and snapped his hips forward in a deep thrust. His grin only grew wider as he earned himself a loud yelp.
“Better hold on, pup, 'cause I'm not going to stop..!” The Savage Hound grunted as he began to move once more, pumping his needy erection into Mieuseloir with abandon, the hand around the Elvaan's erection mimicking the motions as best he could.
With his control slipping, and his vision narrowing from the mounting pleasure, Leonoyne vaguely registered his hand being slapped away, and watched as Mieuseloir, with the raunchiest expression on his face, took over with his own hand, jerking away at the needy member.
Both hands now free to hold the Crimson Wolf's thighs open with a bruising grip, Leonoyne pounded into Mieuseloir desperately, his eyes feasting on the image of the Elvaan pleasuring himself as he bore down on the prostrate figure, almost bent double from his force.
Mieuseloir came with a soft groan, his eyes closing serenely as thick ropes of seed shot from his manhood, splattering thickly on his stomach and chest. His body convulsed and clenched around the member buried inside him- and Leonoyne could no longer hold out.
Leonoyne grunted and slammed his hips home, pushing himself as deep inside Mieuseloir as he could go, emptying himself into the Elvaan's body. He slumped and twitched, as Mieuseloir's body continued to milk him for all he was worth.
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Dusky Dawn
Pairing/Series: Mieuseloir B. Enchelles x Leonoyne (Final Fantasy XI)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Mieuseloir B. Enchelles, general of the Crimson Wolf Esquires, spends a little time alone to take a well earned bath. Little does he know, Leonoyne, of the Savage Hound Condottieres, is watching.. and wanting..
Work in Progress.. You may notice that it cuts off at the end with no real ending yet lol
====
Ronfaure forest- lush, and healthy were the large coniferous trees that the morning air was crisp and fresh. A night had come and gone after an orcish attack- another San d'Orian victory- and the casual breeze no longer wafted the scent of gunpowder and smoke. A refreshing morning, for a well-earned bath.
Mieuseloir B. Enchelles, leader of the Crimson Wolf Esquires, picked his way around craters and ruptured battlements, heading towards the Cheval river that bisected East Ronfaure. His platoon was camped at the outpost, and from what little movement stirred in camp, he could tell his soldiers were still sleeping away, getting every precious second in before the morning trumpets blew. One would think that slipping off all in his lonesome was a terrible idea, he was bound to get ambushed- but Mieuseloir was confident in the mighty Kingdom's military intelligences, and there was no orcish raid to be had in days, according to sources.
Not only was he headed there for a much wanted bath, and some time to himself- there was an object of great interest to him near the Cheval river mouth up north. A strange floating creature that appeared to be a cavernous maw. When studied in the past, the floating maw that exuded a strange purple mist seemed to be uninterested in its observers, and contrary to its fearsome visage, was quite harmless.
Setting his sword and shield down against a tree, Mieuseloir squatted down beside the roots and stared, transfixed, at the curiosity several yards away, hovering at the edge of the clearing where forest met stone. Moments passed, and nothing from the giant that continued to bob in the air, meters from the ground.
Mieuseloir sighed and dropped his vigilant spying on a boring creature that did nothing. He constantly came out here to look at it, hoping it would one day show its true colors and do something, but alas, to no end and no change.
One self-appointed task complete, meant for his second task at hand: bathing. Not to say that the proud Elvaan were an uncleanly lot, but when stationed with a platoon, there was rarely any time to one self, let alone, private time to bathe. Back to back battles, and constant patrolling cut time for other daily necessities, most regretfully, hygiene.
Removing the feral-looking mask he wore, Mieuseloir began to undress, unstrapping and setting aside carefully the heavy armor that all prominent generals were issued with the proud colors of San d'Oria. Chainmail, dastanas, breeches and greaves soon joined sword and shield, and the Elvaan shivered a little. All the stuffy armor now gone, left him in underthings that did little to hide from chill.
Sighing, Mieuseloir discarded his undershirt, and tiptoed his way carefully down to the bank of the river. He winced slightly as the cold water met his toes and squatted down by the gently gurgling water, scooping some up in his hands to splash on his face.
“People usually bathe naked, Enchelles.”
Mieuseloir flinched, startled, and slowly lowered his hands to look up across the river at the intruder. The Elvaan at fault, leaned against a large tree, heavy black chainmail glinting menacingly in the dim morning sunlight.
“What happened to courtesy and addressing an officer by rank, Leonoyne?”
Leonoyne shrugged, a predatory smile splitting what was visible of his face under his menacing war sallet. He set his blue and gold greatsword to lean against the tree he occupied, and slid to sit on its roots. With elbows on knees, and hands upon cheeks, he continued to grin at Mieuseloir.
“Well, I suppose I might as well stay and watch the show, seeing as how my spot is occupied.”
“It hardly is anyone's spot, why, I don't see your name carved anywhere.” Mieuseloir retorted with a blush, unnerved by the attention he was receiving from the other Elvaan. Another general, known to lead a troupe of female warriors, the Savage Hounds. Many joked (jealously) that Leonoyne's platoon was a personal harem, yet none dared to say it to his face.
There was an awkward silence between the two, as Mieuseloir hesitantly splashed water on his shoulders and chest, and Leonoyne continued to watch, his expression lecherous.
Leonoyne's eyes followed the trickle of water that dripped down Mieuseloir's body, formed meandering, glistening trails over defined abdominals, coming to seep into the dark hose stretched over the Elvaan's toned thighs. Every droplet that soaked the fabric only made it cling tighter and tighter to a delicious package that Leonoyne yearned to unwrap. He licked his lips slowly, imagining-
“You don't have to stare so intensely..” Mieuseloir began, averting his gaze slightly as he tried to continue his task of washing himself as nonchalantly as he could.
“Would it make you feel better if I joined you?” The Savage Hound asked, in a low voice, chuckling when the other flushed and returned the question with a silent glare.
“Better? Wha- No, I don't think so-”
“So you like it better that I'm watching you-”
“That's not the case!”
“Then, I'll join you.” Mieuseloir made a pretty good imitation of a fish, at a loss for words as Leonoyne stood and began to undress, dropping his black armor with less care and respect than Mieuseloir had shown his own.
“Suit yourself...” The Elvaan was only able to mutter, his eyes glancing up, half curious, as the Savage Hound general kicked sollerets onto the haphazard pile formed of black steel and leather. Mieuseloir's gaze once again turned from the shaggy haired Elvaan when underthings started coming off, and his discomfort only increased tenfold when splashing nearby indicated that the other had joined him.
“Gee, you're shy as a maiden, Enchelles.” Leonoyne teased, slapping some water at the Elvaan who was delicately scrubbing his chest. Earning himself another glare- one that went from his face, to his rather unclothed, and enthusiastic lower body.
At a loss for words, once again, Mieuseloir turned his gaze to the suddenly interesting pebbles at the riverbed.
Amused at the reaction begotten from his nude form, Leonoyne mimicked the shyer Elvaan, squatted down and began to pour water over his messy hair.
Mieuseloir found himself continually distracted by the splashes Leonoyne was making, and kept glancing up only to stare at the other every time his gaze was drawn. The looks didn't go unnoticed by Leonoyne, however, and he began to rub his body in a more provocative manner, his hands straying lower and lower, guiding Mieuseloir's shy glances.
Finding himself indulging in a rare exhibitionist streak, the Savage Hound slid his hands down between his legs, spreading them shamelessly, made an act of washing himself, but lingered a little too long on what kept Mieuseloir's attention so well. Leonoyne smirked to himself, as he noted, that Mieuseloir had quite forgotten his own task of bathing in watching his little performance.
“Enchelles..?” Leonoyne purred, questioningly as he knelt down into the now thigh-deep water, his feet grown sore from squatting, his fingers wrapped around his rigid manhood, stroking it in a casual manner.
“Uh..?” Caught quite red handed, in his case, red faced, Mieuseloir snapped out of his staring. He flushed deep red, shamed that he felt his body coming to attention from the show that Leonoyne was putting on for him. Stammering for something to say, he sat down quickly in the cool water, hoping the other wouldn't have noticed how he was affected, physically, and also hoping that the water would calm the sudden throbbing. The Crimson Wolf covered his face with both hands, breathing deeply to try and relax in such an uncomfortable situation.
Quite suddenly, Mieuseloir didn't feel so secure when he heard a splash move closer, and felt water droplets fall on his head. He lowered his hands to look up, only to stare into Leonoyne's crotch for a split second, before a hand on the back of his head, pushed him face first into it.
“You've been worshiping it with your eyes for a while now, why not worship a little with your mouth?” Leonoyne's voice crooned, gruff and demanding all at once.
Mieuseloir began to protest, his hands pushing at Leonoyne's hips; but as soon as his mouth opened and words tried to come out, something else big and hard was forced between his lips and he growled in disapproval. The Savage Hound's fingers suddenly dug into the back of his neck and he whimpered, choking on the flesh in his mouth. He could feel Leonoyne twitching in his mouth with every little sound he made, and he shivered.
“No teeth, I'm not into that sort of thing.” He yelped as the shaggy haired Elvaan emphasized the point with another pinch to the neck.
After a moment more of struggling, Mieuseloir gave in and shifted onto his knees as the other showed no indication of letting him go without the task at hand complete.
With eyes squeezed shut, the Crimson Wolf bobbed his head slowly, sliding his tongue around the velvety head of Leonoyne's member, his hands on the Elvaan's hips to steady himself. Up, down, up, down, he continued to suck and stroke with his tongue- moving faster with every new grunt and groan Leonoyne made in response.
A part of Mieuseloir was getting excited at what he was doing. The throbbing below had started anew, and his interest began pushing against the thin fabric of his hose.
“Take off your hose before I do it for you.” Leonoyne growled, grabbing Mieuseloir by the hair and pulling the Elvaan off of his member- wincing to himself as it had felt too good, too close, and he had to move on before the pleasure was over all too soon. He took a shaky breath, staring down his body as Mieuseloir fumbled with the offending item of clothing, pushing it down to reveal the tasty bit that he so wanted to see. He felt like a hungry lion, and this lamb was moving too slow, and too temptingly for him to hold back.
Dropping down onto knees with a splash, Leonoyne grabbed the wet fabric and yanked it the rest of the way down Mieuseloir's legs, toppling the Crimson Wolf over as he pulled it off the man and threw it ashore. He didn't even take a moment to survey his prize when he lunged, falling upon Mieuseloir's body with an inflamed passion, lips sought for lips, as hands found their way to needy flesh.
Mieuseloir's gasps of surprise and pleasure sent shudders up Leonoyne's spine, and he wriggled his way between the former's legs, pressing their twin needs together in an aggressive grind. So focused were the two on their mutual pleasure, it was soon too hot for them to feel chilled from the water they laid in.
Leonoyne continued to grind against his prey, increasingly impatient as the lascivious, wet sensations between them made his eyes roll up in his head. The little noises that the Crimson Wolf made were irresistible, and they were driving him crazy with lust.
Lips clashed in another battle, and tongues fought for dominance. It seemed that the wolf had finally found its fangs, and was fighting back for his pride and position.
Mieuseloir's hands came up in an attempt to push Leonoyne off and flip them over, but the Savage Hound was faster- Leonoyne's hands snatched the Elvaan's wrists, pushing them down to either side of the Crimson Wolf's head, holding the man down forcefully. The prostrate Elvaan arched his back, lifting his hips and rubbing their bodies together in a frustrated attempt at throwing Leonoyne off.
“Not a chance, wolf pup, it's a dog's day.” Leonoyne growled, pushing his tongue past Mieuseloir's defenses, plundering the prostrate Elvaan's sweet mouth with fervor.
With a goal in mind, Leonoyne shifted the other's arms up and clasped both of Mieuseloir's wrists with one hand, while the other groped downwards between them, feeling around as his touches made the Crimson Wolf spasm and twitch.
“Nnngh!” Mieuseloir exclaimed as his oppressor's fingers found what they sought, and rubbed him purposefully between his buttocks, concentrating on a single spot that flushed his face with embarrassment. “S-stop that-”
“Hush. Relax, pup..” Leonoyne cooed, tilting his head down to nibble at the Elvaan's neck, working his way down to ravish a rosy nipple, all stiff from arousal. He continued to rub at Mieuseloir, applying more pressure until he was able to push one fingertip inside.
Mieuseloir grunted- conflicted between pleasure and discomfort- and thrashed just slightly at the intrusion. He wasn't sure if he enjoyed the strange sensation at all, and he gritted his teeth, trying to reject Leonoyne's stubbornly curious finger.
“Stop struggling or it will actually hurt.” The Savage Hound commanded, his finger sliding in to the third knuckle. He held still for a moment, until he felt the muscles that were drawn taut around his digit loosen and allowed him some movement.
Taking advantage of what was offered, Leonoyne wiggled his finger around, and pushed it in and out, searching for a special spot within Mieuseloir as the latter whimpered and whined between breathy pants for air. When his pup mewled in his arms with an exploratory stroke, he knew he'd found it.
Without much warning, Leonoyne pushed a second finger in beside the first, and began to stroke at that salacious place, abusing it all to hell just to drive the Elvaan beneath him into a gasping frenzy. The Savage Hound scissored his fingers, stretching the raunchy little nether mouth that seemed to suck his fingers in with unadulterated want, obliging it with a third finger to further prepare Mieuseloir.
“Oh Goddess- Oh Altana- ggnn- damn-” With eyes practically rolling back into his head, Mieuseloir was whispering both praises and curses under his breath, his chest heaving as sweat began to bead on his forehead. He cursed once more when Leonoyne tweaked his nipple with teeth.
“I've never done- nng- this” Gasp! “ before-”
“Don't worry, pup..”
Deeming Mieuseloir quite ready for what was about to come, Leonoyne withdrew his fingers, earning himself a reedy whine of disappointment, as if he had just brought the Elvaan back from the cusp of bliss. Driven with sudden impatience, he freed Mieuseloir's hands from his grip and with both hands, spread the Elvaan's thighs wide apart, rubbing his weeping erection at the very hole he'd just tortured with fingers.
“Relax.. It'll only get better.” The Savage Hound promised, licking his lips hungrily as he pushed just the head of himself inside. Mieuseloir trembled beneath him, mouth agape in a silent cry, and Leonoyne paused, holding his breath. It took all his self control- to the point where he was practically shaking- not to ram his need in to the hilt. Had to make it last. Had to make it worthwhile. He pushed slowly, inch by inch, into Mieuseloir's accepting body until he was sheathed completely, his hips pressing gently against the Elvaan's buttocks.
Leonoyne breathed heavily through his nose, squinching his eyes shut at the tight, hot, virginal tract that closed around his aching member so enticingly. While he enjoyed it immensely, he could not let himself enjoy it before Mieuseloir had had his fill, so to speak.
“Aangh-... ahn..” The little moans that the Elvaan made were pleading. Leonoyne had to soothe Mieuseloir's anguish. He drew out a tiny bit, then pushed back in, repeating the small motion slowly until the other's body seemed to relax and accept the movements readily.
In, out, in, out, each thrust withdrew farther and returned deeper than the last. Each stroke earning another breathless moan that urged Leonoyne's hips onward; stronger, faster, harder, deeper...
The sound of wet skin slapping against each other, and delighted moans soon drowned out the bubbling river.
Leonoyne continued to pound into Mieuseloir's writhing body, his gaze - between bouts where he thought he'd black out- trained to the Elvaan's naughty little nether mouth, eating him up so greedily with each thrust. It was almost too much. He could feel himself climbing and soaring to that point where he could release.
However, Mieuseloir looked troubled, still, despite the positive responses his body had been giving to the Savage Hound's ministrations.
“How.. do you feel?” Leonoyne gritted out, eyebrows furrowing in concentration, slowing down his thrusts to keep himself from reaching that delicious peak.
“Good- aa.. More- please- Need it..” Mieuseloir all but begged, his arms coming up to cover his face as he grimaced, somewhat shamefully.
Leonoyne smirked, amused he could reduce the proud Crimson Wolf into a simpering, needy mess. He granted Mieuseloir his need by wrapping his fingers around Mieuseloir's neglected erection, his eyebrows raising when the member throbbed in his grip. He stopped moving all together- and his body screamed at him for release.
“Stop covering your face-”
“Move- Please..!”
“Show me your face-”
Mieuseloir sobbed, chest heaving, his hips writhing, but Leonoyne's firm grip kept him steady. He slowly lowered his arms, his hands coming down into the shallow bank water to dig his fingers into river-worn pebbles.
“I want to watch you when you cum..” Leonoyne explained, gently, as he observed the pained expression on the Elvaan's face, grinning slightly as he pulled out and snapped his hips forward in a deep thrust. His grin only grew wider as he earned himself a loud yelp.
“Better hold on, pup, 'cause I'm not going to stop..!” The Savage Hound grunted as he began to move once more, pumping his needy erection into Mieuseloir with abandon, the hand around the Elvaan's erection mimicking the motions as best he could.
With his control slipping, and his vision narrowing from the mounting pleasure, Leonoyne vaguely registered his hand being slapped away, and watched as Mieuseloir, with the raunchiest expression on his face, took over with his own hand, jerking away at the needy member.
Both hands now free to hold the Crimson Wolf's thighs open with a bruising grip, Leonoyne pounded into Mieuseloir desperately, his eyes feasting on the image of the Elvaan pleasuring himself as he bore down on the prostrate figure, almost bent double from his force.
Mieuseloir came with a soft groan, his eyes closing serenely as thick ropes of seed shot from his manhood, splattering thickly on his stomach and chest. His body convulsed and clenched around the member buried inside him- and Leonoyne could no longer hold out.
Leonoyne grunted and slammed his hips home, pushing himself as deep inside Mieuseloir as he could go, emptying himself into the Elvaan's body. He slumped and twitched, as Mieuseloir's body continued to milk him for all he was worth.