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With her body's demands, Thea's mind began to lose composure with regard to the logic and consequence of her actions. Swallowing sharply as her hand wrapped around his length, she let her palm stroke along the surprisingly soft and velvety feel of the skin there - in sharp contrast to the weathered skin of the shoulder she gripped with her other hand for support.
In the dark, Thea could not see his reactions but the low, almost growling tone that took the place of his patterned breathing was oddly exhilarating and only encouraged her hand to continue it's pattern, which was only encouraged further as his hand took hold of her breast, sending shocks of desire through her to her core as the sensitive, virgin flesh there reacted to his touch.
Beyond her control, a muffled keening gasp escaped her throat, likely surprising herself moreso than it did her nameless partner. Yet, once it had, it opened the floodgates for the near desperate sound of soft, vocal panting.
As he lifted her, a thrill of anticipation flooded through her, tingling between her thighs anxiously as her hips opened wide to allow the width of his hips between them. He struggled to move away the fabric that had fallen into place, she released his length in order to flutter the fabric over one thigh.
The cool night air hit her region, sending a shiver through her once more as her hand reached down to stroke her long fingers across her entrance as it had countless nights since entering adolescence. It was already slick with her ignorant desire, and she could not help but ply at herself a moment, once again having that briefest hesitance as her fingers curled around his member, questioning how it would fit.
Swallowing as her resolve steadied itself, she felt a slight flutter in her chest and a tightening between her thighs as she felt the bulb of his member at her entrance. Once, she tried to roll her hips, as if hoping he would slip into her easily, yet it was met with resistance. Again, this time with some assistance from her own fingers, plying herself open ever so slight with a slight wince and a hiss as she felt the tip of hip press within her.
It only took one more press of her hips for a shuddering gasped "Aah!" to escape her, immediately biting her lips closed to stifle it. Her head had flow back and her spine stiffened in shock as she seemed stretched impossibly wide, the pain of the stretched skin seeming to beg for everything to stop as it was.
Nethis warned her that it would hurt the first time, that there would be bleeding and pain to begin with, but to bear through it initially in order to reach the ultimate peak of pleasure and ecstasy. Reminding herself of this and of the primitive readings she and Nethis had found, the mysteries of their patron god, Dionysus, Thea coaxed her hesitance into silence, knowing that this was an initiation into womanhood that all women would see at some point in their life. More importantly, this was her choice - it was her decision to do so.
Breathing in sharply through her nose, she whined a soft, 'mm-hmm' so as to keep him from pulling away, ensuring she was alright in this endeavor regardless of the doubt that the initial pain of entry cast upon it all. Looping one arm around his neck to lift herself ever so slightly, she pressed herself down onto his length, her eyes screwing tightly as the ring of her virginal entrance was breached fully, pulling a marked and panting exclamation from her lips, "Oh gods...."
Realizing the tension she held between her hips, she took a few steadying breaths as her body tried to relax around him while basic, human desire encouraged her hips into motion, an occasional soft hiss or pleasured whine escaping her as he slipped incrementally deeper within her, finally steady enough to try to capture his lips with hers, moans filling the caverns of their mouths with each motion.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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With her body's demands, Thea's mind began to lose composure with regard to the logic and consequence of her actions. Swallowing sharply as her hand wrapped around his length, she let her palm stroke along the surprisingly soft and velvety feel of the skin there - in sharp contrast to the weathered skin of the shoulder she gripped with her other hand for support.
In the dark, Thea could not see his reactions but the low, almost growling tone that took the place of his patterned breathing was oddly exhilarating and only encouraged her hand to continue it's pattern, which was only encouraged further as his hand took hold of her breast, sending shocks of desire through her to her core as the sensitive, virgin flesh there reacted to his touch.
Beyond her control, a muffled keening gasp escaped her throat, likely surprising herself moreso than it did her nameless partner. Yet, once it had, it opened the floodgates for the near desperate sound of soft, vocal panting.
As he lifted her, a thrill of anticipation flooded through her, tingling between her thighs anxiously as her hips opened wide to allow the width of his hips between them. He struggled to move away the fabric that had fallen into place, she released his length in order to flutter the fabric over one thigh.
The cool night air hit her region, sending a shiver through her once more as her hand reached down to stroke her long fingers across her entrance as it had countless nights since entering adolescence. It was already slick with her ignorant desire, and she could not help but ply at herself a moment, once again having that briefest hesitance as her fingers curled around his member, questioning how it would fit.
Swallowing as her resolve steadied itself, she felt a slight flutter in her chest and a tightening between her thighs as she felt the bulb of his member at her entrance. Once, she tried to roll her hips, as if hoping he would slip into her easily, yet it was met with resistance. Again, this time with some assistance from her own fingers, plying herself open ever so slight with a slight wince and a hiss as she felt the tip of hip press within her.
It only took one more press of her hips for a shuddering gasped "Aah!" to escape her, immediately biting her lips closed to stifle it. Her head had flow back and her spine stiffened in shock as she seemed stretched impossibly wide, the pain of the stretched skin seeming to beg for everything to stop as it was.
Nethis warned her that it would hurt the first time, that there would be bleeding and pain to begin with, but to bear through it initially in order to reach the ultimate peak of pleasure and ecstasy. Reminding herself of this and of the primitive readings she and Nethis had found, the mysteries of their patron god, Dionysus, Thea coaxed her hesitance into silence, knowing that this was an initiation into womanhood that all women would see at some point in their life. More importantly, this was her choice - it was her decision to do so.
Breathing in sharply through her nose, she whined a soft, 'mm-hmm' so as to keep him from pulling away, ensuring she was alright in this endeavor regardless of the doubt that the initial pain of entry cast upon it all. Looping one arm around his neck to lift herself ever so slightly, she pressed herself down onto his length, her eyes screwing tightly as the ring of her virginal entrance was breached fully, pulling a marked and panting exclamation from her lips, "Oh gods...."
Realizing the tension she held between her hips, she took a few steadying breaths as her body tried to relax around him while basic, human desire encouraged her hips into motion, an occasional soft hiss or pleasured whine escaping her as he slipped incrementally deeper within her, finally steady enough to try to capture his lips with hers, moans filling the caverns of their mouths with each motion.
With her body's demands, Thea's mind began to lose composure with regard to the logic and consequence of her actions. Swallowing sharply as her hand wrapped around his length, she let her palm stroke along the surprisingly soft and velvety feel of the skin there - in sharp contrast to the weathered skin of the shoulder she gripped with her other hand for support.
In the dark, Thea could not see his reactions but the low, almost growling tone that took the place of his patterned breathing was oddly exhilarating and only encouraged her hand to continue it's pattern, which was only encouraged further as his hand took hold of her breast, sending shocks of desire through her to her core as the sensitive, virgin flesh there reacted to his touch.
Beyond her control, a muffled keening gasp escaped her throat, likely surprising herself moreso than it did her nameless partner. Yet, once it had, it opened the floodgates for the near desperate sound of soft, vocal panting.
As he lifted her, a thrill of anticipation flooded through her, tingling between her thighs anxiously as her hips opened wide to allow the width of his hips between them. He struggled to move away the fabric that had fallen into place, she released his length in order to flutter the fabric over one thigh.
The cool night air hit her region, sending a shiver through her once more as her hand reached down to stroke her long fingers across her entrance as it had countless nights since entering adolescence. It was already slick with her ignorant desire, and she could not help but ply at herself a moment, once again having that briefest hesitance as her fingers curled around his member, questioning how it would fit.
Swallowing as her resolve steadied itself, she felt a slight flutter in her chest and a tightening between her thighs as she felt the bulb of his member at her entrance. Once, she tried to roll her hips, as if hoping he would slip into her easily, yet it was met with resistance. Again, this time with some assistance from her own fingers, plying herself open ever so slight with a slight wince and a hiss as she felt the tip of hip press within her.
It only took one more press of her hips for a shuddering gasped "Aah!" to escape her, immediately biting her lips closed to stifle it. Her head had flow back and her spine stiffened in shock as she seemed stretched impossibly wide, the pain of the stretched skin seeming to beg for everything to stop as it was.
Nethis warned her that it would hurt the first time, that there would be bleeding and pain to begin with, but to bear through it initially in order to reach the ultimate peak of pleasure and ecstasy. Reminding herself of this and of the primitive readings she and Nethis had found, the mysteries of their patron god, Dionysus, Thea coaxed her hesitance into silence, knowing that this was an initiation into womanhood that all women would see at some point in their life. More importantly, this was her choice - it was her decision to do so.
Breathing in sharply through her nose, she whined a soft, 'mm-hmm' so as to keep him from pulling away, ensuring she was alright in this endeavor regardless of the doubt that the initial pain of entry cast upon it all. Looping one arm around his neck to lift herself ever so slightly, she pressed herself down onto his length, her eyes screwing tightly as the ring of her virginal entrance was breached fully, pulling a marked and panting exclamation from her lips, "Oh gods...."
Realizing the tension she held between her hips, she took a few steadying breaths as her body tried to relax around him while basic, human desire encouraged her hips into motion, an occasional soft hiss or pleasured whine escaping her as he slipped incrementally deeper within her, finally steady enough to try to capture his lips with hers, moans filling the caverns of their mouths with each motion.
When the woman took hold of his most sensitive flesh, Vangelis was shocked at how vulnerable the sensation was. His member seemed to shudder at her touch, his hips and the small of his back tensing in the desire to thrust himself forwards into her touch. It was a bizarre combination that spoke of a desire for pleasure but implied that of pain. He wanted her hand tighter, the grip firmer... He wanted to push and pull and feel the silken texture of his external skin shift over the hard and turgid core. Such thoughts seemed to imply a certain, needed edge of pain but at this stage, Vangelis was too far gone beneath a wave of desire to care much for the logic and sense of his urges.
The touch of the young woman's fingers was lost as she sought to clear the path for their joining, shifting the parting of her skirts so that it fell upon her pelvis, the silks splitting over her thighs and exposing a womanhood he could not see in the darkness to the cold of the night-time air.
With an eagerness that shamed him - that reminded him of a rowdy animal or dog in heat - Vangelis could think of nothing but touching there upon that apex between her thighs; of indulging himself in the feel of her most private lips and skin. Yet, in their currently position, Vangelis needed his hands to hold her in position and such a touch was denied him.
His passion was both sated and escalated slightly, however, when he pushed himself forwards, attempting to ram himself home, and found her own fingers where he had wished himself to be. A growl of arousal left his thought just at the notion that she was touching herself, rousing her own desires in order to send their coupling higher. Such an action spoke of experience that Vangelis was not one to question or judge and he waited for her guidance before the thick head of his manhood was securely in place at her entrance.
In a moment of vulnerability, Vangelis' mind clicked off and became an almost objective, noncorporeal entity as he took in the moment around him, realising that this was the instance that all men he had met spoke of with such grandeur and mysterious penitence. This was the act that had so many of his comrades roll back their eyes, loosen their mouths and murmur in hushed moments of reverence. This was the activity of adults that was able to turn men crazy, animalistic and pure serfs to their most base desires. That turned skin hot, that had lungs aching and muscles screaming...
That would make him a man.
In the moment of hesitation where his still childlike mind seemed to desire such a reflection, the beauty who was taking him on such a journey took matters into her own hands and pushed her pelvis forwards.
Instantly, a noise that seemed part grunt and part pant - a whispered scream of reaction from deep within his chest - ripped between his lips. His eyes shot wide, his tongue felt heavy and his lungs could not draw in enough air. He was lost to the sole sensation between his legs.
Around the peak of his shaft, the very end of his member, there was a tightness, a thickness of tension that closed down upon the hardness of his rod and exerted the most wonderful pressure. Closing his eyes against an immediate desire to thrust himself deep, Vangelis waited for his partner of more experience to lead them as she also panted and expressed shock at the sensations. Had he done something wrong? Was he the wrong size? What had caused her to-
Before he could question her hesitation, she had angled herself upon him and pushed herself down, her body taking several inches of his flesh deeper within and a sensation of punching through something could be felt at his very tip.
"Aah..." Vangelis groaned and gasped, instantly feeling the tingles of release in his shaft that he knew would mean the end of their coupling within seconds of it starting. Biting his lip and keeping a mental control over his reactions, Vangelis prayed to the Gods that he would not break loose his seed so soon, despite the mind-bending pleasure that was slowly creeping down long his member. For, with each thrust that this woman made, his flesh sunk deeper and the pressure of her inner muscles, of her slick inner walls, clamped down just a little further and harder along his body.
Gasping and making a noise that almost sounded - shamefully - like a cry in the back of his throat, Vangelis was thankful when their kiss was brought back, when her tongue sought his own once more. Her lips locked around his and the dampness of her tongue smothering the harsh breaths and strangled noises of innocence from his mouth.
"Mmm..." the noise joined with her own, an approval through his nose as his hands gripped the rounded cheeks of her rear once more and lifted her just a little so that he might aid her in the movements she was trying to enact on her own.
Taking her lead, Vangelis noted when her shoulders and body dipped; when she sunk down upon his shaft and immediately pushed himself forwards. As she came down and her womanhood claimed his flesh for its own, Vangelis willingly gave it to her, the thrusts of his hips turning small progressions inside her body into heavier strokes and deeper exploration. Within a few pumps of his hips, Vangelis felt her bottom meet the soft flesh below his member and knew he was all the way inside.
The pressure was intense, the holding of him tight within her a surprise. The smell of their bodies was something he had no expected - that sex came with its own scent. Not to mention the sounds that neither of them seemed able to stem from their lips, the noises of shock and pleasure escaping around their kiss.
Recognising that she had liked it before, Vangelis held her weight against the wall in order to free his hand and sought her bare breast once more. His palm moulding the soft skin and pushing abrading callouses against her nipple, Vangelis was carefully not to slow in his generous thrusts that did nothing to stem the shimmering reverberation of desire down his penis that was quickly building to something he would no longer be able to contain...
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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When the woman took hold of his most sensitive flesh, Vangelis was shocked at how vulnerable the sensation was. His member seemed to shudder at her touch, his hips and the small of his back tensing in the desire to thrust himself forwards into her touch. It was a bizarre combination that spoke of a desire for pleasure but implied that of pain. He wanted her hand tighter, the grip firmer... He wanted to push and pull and feel the silken texture of his external skin shift over the hard and turgid core. Such thoughts seemed to imply a certain, needed edge of pain but at this stage, Vangelis was too far gone beneath a wave of desire to care much for the logic and sense of his urges.
The touch of the young woman's fingers was lost as she sought to clear the path for their joining, shifting the parting of her skirts so that it fell upon her pelvis, the silks splitting over her thighs and exposing a womanhood he could not see in the darkness to the cold of the night-time air.
With an eagerness that shamed him - that reminded him of a rowdy animal or dog in heat - Vangelis could think of nothing but touching there upon that apex between her thighs; of indulging himself in the feel of her most private lips and skin. Yet, in their currently position, Vangelis needed his hands to hold her in position and such a touch was denied him.
His passion was both sated and escalated slightly, however, when he pushed himself forwards, attempting to ram himself home, and found her own fingers where he had wished himself to be. A growl of arousal left his thought just at the notion that she was touching herself, rousing her own desires in order to send their coupling higher. Such an action spoke of experience that Vangelis was not one to question or judge and he waited for her guidance before the thick head of his manhood was securely in place at her entrance.
In a moment of vulnerability, Vangelis' mind clicked off and became an almost objective, noncorporeal entity as he took in the moment around him, realising that this was the instance that all men he had met spoke of with such grandeur and mysterious penitence. This was the act that had so many of his comrades roll back their eyes, loosen their mouths and murmur in hushed moments of reverence. This was the activity of adults that was able to turn men crazy, animalistic and pure serfs to their most base desires. That turned skin hot, that had lungs aching and muscles screaming...
That would make him a man.
In the moment of hesitation where his still childlike mind seemed to desire such a reflection, the beauty who was taking him on such a journey took matters into her own hands and pushed her pelvis forwards.
Instantly, a noise that seemed part grunt and part pant - a whispered scream of reaction from deep within his chest - ripped between his lips. His eyes shot wide, his tongue felt heavy and his lungs could not draw in enough air. He was lost to the sole sensation between his legs.
Around the peak of his shaft, the very end of his member, there was a tightness, a thickness of tension that closed down upon the hardness of his rod and exerted the most wonderful pressure. Closing his eyes against an immediate desire to thrust himself deep, Vangelis waited for his partner of more experience to lead them as she also panted and expressed shock at the sensations. Had he done something wrong? Was he the wrong size? What had caused her to-
Before he could question her hesitation, she had angled herself upon him and pushed herself down, her body taking several inches of his flesh deeper within and a sensation of punching through something could be felt at his very tip.
"Aah..." Vangelis groaned and gasped, instantly feeling the tingles of release in his shaft that he knew would mean the end of their coupling within seconds of it starting. Biting his lip and keeping a mental control over his reactions, Vangelis prayed to the Gods that he would not break loose his seed so soon, despite the mind-bending pleasure that was slowly creeping down long his member. For, with each thrust that this woman made, his flesh sunk deeper and the pressure of her inner muscles, of her slick inner walls, clamped down just a little further and harder along his body.
Gasping and making a noise that almost sounded - shamefully - like a cry in the back of his throat, Vangelis was thankful when their kiss was brought back, when her tongue sought his own once more. Her lips locked around his and the dampness of her tongue smothering the harsh breaths and strangled noises of innocence from his mouth.
"Mmm..." the noise joined with her own, an approval through his nose as his hands gripped the rounded cheeks of her rear once more and lifted her just a little so that he might aid her in the movements she was trying to enact on her own.
Taking her lead, Vangelis noted when her shoulders and body dipped; when she sunk down upon his shaft and immediately pushed himself forwards. As she came down and her womanhood claimed his flesh for its own, Vangelis willingly gave it to her, the thrusts of his hips turning small progressions inside her body into heavier strokes and deeper exploration. Within a few pumps of his hips, Vangelis felt her bottom meet the soft flesh below his member and knew he was all the way inside.
The pressure was intense, the holding of him tight within her a surprise. The smell of their bodies was something he had no expected - that sex came with its own scent. Not to mention the sounds that neither of them seemed able to stem from their lips, the noises of shock and pleasure escaping around their kiss.
Recognising that she had liked it before, Vangelis held her weight against the wall in order to free his hand and sought her bare breast once more. His palm moulding the soft skin and pushing abrading callouses against her nipple, Vangelis was carefully not to slow in his generous thrusts that did nothing to stem the shimmering reverberation of desire down his penis that was quickly building to something he would no longer be able to contain...
When the woman took hold of his most sensitive flesh, Vangelis was shocked at how vulnerable the sensation was. His member seemed to shudder at her touch, his hips and the small of his back tensing in the desire to thrust himself forwards into her touch. It was a bizarre combination that spoke of a desire for pleasure but implied that of pain. He wanted her hand tighter, the grip firmer... He wanted to push and pull and feel the silken texture of his external skin shift over the hard and turgid core. Such thoughts seemed to imply a certain, needed edge of pain but at this stage, Vangelis was too far gone beneath a wave of desire to care much for the logic and sense of his urges.
The touch of the young woman's fingers was lost as she sought to clear the path for their joining, shifting the parting of her skirts so that it fell upon her pelvis, the silks splitting over her thighs and exposing a womanhood he could not see in the darkness to the cold of the night-time air.
With an eagerness that shamed him - that reminded him of a rowdy animal or dog in heat - Vangelis could think of nothing but touching there upon that apex between her thighs; of indulging himself in the feel of her most private lips and skin. Yet, in their currently position, Vangelis needed his hands to hold her in position and such a touch was denied him.
His passion was both sated and escalated slightly, however, when he pushed himself forwards, attempting to ram himself home, and found her own fingers where he had wished himself to be. A growl of arousal left his thought just at the notion that she was touching herself, rousing her own desires in order to send their coupling higher. Such an action spoke of experience that Vangelis was not one to question or judge and he waited for her guidance before the thick head of his manhood was securely in place at her entrance.
In a moment of vulnerability, Vangelis' mind clicked off and became an almost objective, noncorporeal entity as he took in the moment around him, realising that this was the instance that all men he had met spoke of with such grandeur and mysterious penitence. This was the act that had so many of his comrades roll back their eyes, loosen their mouths and murmur in hushed moments of reverence. This was the activity of adults that was able to turn men crazy, animalistic and pure serfs to their most base desires. That turned skin hot, that had lungs aching and muscles screaming...
That would make him a man.
In the moment of hesitation where his still childlike mind seemed to desire such a reflection, the beauty who was taking him on such a journey took matters into her own hands and pushed her pelvis forwards.
Instantly, a noise that seemed part grunt and part pant - a whispered scream of reaction from deep within his chest - ripped between his lips. His eyes shot wide, his tongue felt heavy and his lungs could not draw in enough air. He was lost to the sole sensation between his legs.
Around the peak of his shaft, the very end of his member, there was a tightness, a thickness of tension that closed down upon the hardness of his rod and exerted the most wonderful pressure. Closing his eyes against an immediate desire to thrust himself deep, Vangelis waited for his partner of more experience to lead them as she also panted and expressed shock at the sensations. Had he done something wrong? Was he the wrong size? What had caused her to-
Before he could question her hesitation, she had angled herself upon him and pushed herself down, her body taking several inches of his flesh deeper within and a sensation of punching through something could be felt at his very tip.
"Aah..." Vangelis groaned and gasped, instantly feeling the tingles of release in his shaft that he knew would mean the end of their coupling within seconds of it starting. Biting his lip and keeping a mental control over his reactions, Vangelis prayed to the Gods that he would not break loose his seed so soon, despite the mind-bending pleasure that was slowly creeping down long his member. For, with each thrust that this woman made, his flesh sunk deeper and the pressure of her inner muscles, of her slick inner walls, clamped down just a little further and harder along his body.
Gasping and making a noise that almost sounded - shamefully - like a cry in the back of his throat, Vangelis was thankful when their kiss was brought back, when her tongue sought his own once more. Her lips locked around his and the dampness of her tongue smothering the harsh breaths and strangled noises of innocence from his mouth.
"Mmm..." the noise joined with her own, an approval through his nose as his hands gripped the rounded cheeks of her rear once more and lifted her just a little so that he might aid her in the movements she was trying to enact on her own.
Taking her lead, Vangelis noted when her shoulders and body dipped; when she sunk down upon his shaft and immediately pushed himself forwards. As she came down and her womanhood claimed his flesh for its own, Vangelis willingly gave it to her, the thrusts of his hips turning small progressions inside her body into heavier strokes and deeper exploration. Within a few pumps of his hips, Vangelis felt her bottom meet the soft flesh below his member and knew he was all the way inside.
The pressure was intense, the holding of him tight within her a surprise. The smell of their bodies was something he had no expected - that sex came with its own scent. Not to mention the sounds that neither of them seemed able to stem from their lips, the noises of shock and pleasure escaping around their kiss.
Recognising that she had liked it before, Vangelis held her weight against the wall in order to free his hand and sought her bare breast once more. His palm moulding the soft skin and pushing abrading callouses against her nipple, Vangelis was carefully not to slow in his generous thrusts that did nothing to stem the shimmering reverberation of desire down his penis that was quickly building to something he would no longer be able to contain...
Thea felt herself suspended in more ways that one. One way was quite literal in how no part of her touched the ground as her hips locked against his, her thighs over his hips. The other was in the way all the blood seemed to rush between her head and her core, leaving her feeling lightheaded and in a flurry of both too much thinking and none at all.
Almost all of her attention was to the straining pressure between her thighs, stinging in pain with each breath and press her hips made against his as his length found its way deeper within her. Almost impatient with it, Thea took a breath and actively pressed down onto him with deliberation, the force of which seemed to welcome him deeper at the cost of the brimming of her eyes at the force of it. Yet, in doing so, she felt the shock of an even more overpowering sensation deep within her.
Her eyes flew open as an unintentional primal growl and gasp escaped her as he fully sheathed himself in her, pressing against something untouchable and unnamed that seemed to send bolts of lightning across every inch of her skin. It left her quivering a moment, stunned by the power of such a sensation. Her breath came out in shudders of shock for a moment as she tried to register the feeling, but before she could do so, his hips shifting forward again sent those same stars behind her eyes and shots across her skin.
The ring of her entrance burned and felt slick and sticky, as if the juice of some plump fruit had been spilled there, but that sensation was completely beneath the feeling of his head pressing against something so blessed and gods-given inside her. The following strokes, though, did not hit that same mark, and a growl of frustration erupted from her, surprising her own sensibilities a moment as her arms gripped around his neck even tighter.
There was an echoing sting of her shoulderblades against the wall behind her, the rough marble scraping against her pale skin and distracting a moment. That distraction was enough for her to realize and register the sounds of the man between her legs, his own breath short and growling. In the faint moonlight, she urged her eyes to try to see his face, only marking the strong angles of his jaw and cheeksbones before his hand caused her further distractions, palming her breast again.
Thea's eyes shut once more, as the touch of his hand across her sensitive nipple seemed be connected by a drawstring to her core, causing the muscles there to quiver and tighten. Such an adjustment also sent his shaft into alignment again, and she seemed to almost bounce atop his cock at this angle, their pace quickening as he must have been nearing his end.
The briefest moment of panic flew through her as she remembered Nethis' words - sometimes the man would reach his end before her, and she would leave unsatisfied. Not entirely certain of the meaning, but feeling a building within her as his head struck a chord within her with each stroke, like strikes against a drum, growing louder and louder in her ear.
Something was happening, and it felt similar to the ways it built in a crescendo when she touched herself in the privacy of her room at night, but somehow more powerful.
"Don't stop...don't stop..." she all but begged for a moment, not even certain if her words were fully formed as she felt an almost impossible pain and pleasure seem to build, expanding and tighetening beneath her bellybutton and below, swelling impossibly as if he were somehow expanding inside of her.
"Don't stop...gods, don't..."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Thea felt herself suspended in more ways that one. One way was quite literal in how no part of her touched the ground as her hips locked against his, her thighs over his hips. The other was in the way all the blood seemed to rush between her head and her core, leaving her feeling lightheaded and in a flurry of both too much thinking and none at all.
Almost all of her attention was to the straining pressure between her thighs, stinging in pain with each breath and press her hips made against his as his length found its way deeper within her. Almost impatient with it, Thea took a breath and actively pressed down onto him with deliberation, the force of which seemed to welcome him deeper at the cost of the brimming of her eyes at the force of it. Yet, in doing so, she felt the shock of an even more overpowering sensation deep within her.
Her eyes flew open as an unintentional primal growl and gasp escaped her as he fully sheathed himself in her, pressing against something untouchable and unnamed that seemed to send bolts of lightning across every inch of her skin. It left her quivering a moment, stunned by the power of such a sensation. Her breath came out in shudders of shock for a moment as she tried to register the feeling, but before she could do so, his hips shifting forward again sent those same stars behind her eyes and shots across her skin.
The ring of her entrance burned and felt slick and sticky, as if the juice of some plump fruit had been spilled there, but that sensation was completely beneath the feeling of his head pressing against something so blessed and gods-given inside her. The following strokes, though, did not hit that same mark, and a growl of frustration erupted from her, surprising her own sensibilities a moment as her arms gripped around his neck even tighter.
There was an echoing sting of her shoulderblades against the wall behind her, the rough marble scraping against her pale skin and distracting a moment. That distraction was enough for her to realize and register the sounds of the man between her legs, his own breath short and growling. In the faint moonlight, she urged her eyes to try to see his face, only marking the strong angles of his jaw and cheeksbones before his hand caused her further distractions, palming her breast again.
Thea's eyes shut once more, as the touch of his hand across her sensitive nipple seemed be connected by a drawstring to her core, causing the muscles there to quiver and tighten. Such an adjustment also sent his shaft into alignment again, and she seemed to almost bounce atop his cock at this angle, their pace quickening as he must have been nearing his end.
The briefest moment of panic flew through her as she remembered Nethis' words - sometimes the man would reach his end before her, and she would leave unsatisfied. Not entirely certain of the meaning, but feeling a building within her as his head struck a chord within her with each stroke, like strikes against a drum, growing louder and louder in her ear.
Something was happening, and it felt similar to the ways it built in a crescendo when she touched herself in the privacy of her room at night, but somehow more powerful.
"Don't stop...don't stop..." she all but begged for a moment, not even certain if her words were fully formed as she felt an almost impossible pain and pleasure seem to build, expanding and tighetening beneath her bellybutton and below, swelling impossibly as if he were somehow expanding inside of her.
"Don't stop...gods, don't..."
Thea felt herself suspended in more ways that one. One way was quite literal in how no part of her touched the ground as her hips locked against his, her thighs over his hips. The other was in the way all the blood seemed to rush between her head and her core, leaving her feeling lightheaded and in a flurry of both too much thinking and none at all.
Almost all of her attention was to the straining pressure between her thighs, stinging in pain with each breath and press her hips made against his as his length found its way deeper within her. Almost impatient with it, Thea took a breath and actively pressed down onto him with deliberation, the force of which seemed to welcome him deeper at the cost of the brimming of her eyes at the force of it. Yet, in doing so, she felt the shock of an even more overpowering sensation deep within her.
Her eyes flew open as an unintentional primal growl and gasp escaped her as he fully sheathed himself in her, pressing against something untouchable and unnamed that seemed to send bolts of lightning across every inch of her skin. It left her quivering a moment, stunned by the power of such a sensation. Her breath came out in shudders of shock for a moment as she tried to register the feeling, but before she could do so, his hips shifting forward again sent those same stars behind her eyes and shots across her skin.
The ring of her entrance burned and felt slick and sticky, as if the juice of some plump fruit had been spilled there, but that sensation was completely beneath the feeling of his head pressing against something so blessed and gods-given inside her. The following strokes, though, did not hit that same mark, and a growl of frustration erupted from her, surprising her own sensibilities a moment as her arms gripped around his neck even tighter.
There was an echoing sting of her shoulderblades against the wall behind her, the rough marble scraping against her pale skin and distracting a moment. That distraction was enough for her to realize and register the sounds of the man between her legs, his own breath short and growling. In the faint moonlight, she urged her eyes to try to see his face, only marking the strong angles of his jaw and cheeksbones before his hand caused her further distractions, palming her breast again.
Thea's eyes shut once more, as the touch of his hand across her sensitive nipple seemed be connected by a drawstring to her core, causing the muscles there to quiver and tighten. Such an adjustment also sent his shaft into alignment again, and she seemed to almost bounce atop his cock at this angle, their pace quickening as he must have been nearing his end.
The briefest moment of panic flew through her as she remembered Nethis' words - sometimes the man would reach his end before her, and she would leave unsatisfied. Not entirely certain of the meaning, but feeling a building within her as his head struck a chord within her with each stroke, like strikes against a drum, growing louder and louder in her ear.
Something was happening, and it felt similar to the ways it built in a crescendo when she touched herself in the privacy of her room at night, but somehow more powerful.
"Don't stop...don't stop..." she all but begged for a moment, not even certain if her words were fully formed as she felt an almost impossible pain and pleasure seem to build, expanding and tighetening beneath her bellybutton and below, swelling impossibly as if he were somehow expanding inside of her.
"Don't stop...gods, don't..."
Vangelis would have never, looking back on this moment in his life, have been able to call himself a considerate lover. Every move he made that sparked pleasure in his partner was more by accident than skill. Each movement that diminished it, that failed to find a point of ecstasy within her went unnoticed. To he, drowning in the sensations of what it meant to couple with another human, to engage in the efforts of sex as a man, it was hard to notice anything more specific than whether or not the woman before him was panting in pleasure who scrambling to get away.
She had latched her arms around his neck, she had clamped her thighs around his hips, she moved with him, with each thrust that set her bouncing in the support of her arms. All seemed to be signs that she enjoyed what was occurring between them but he had not the experience nor skill to sense as and when each particular thrust was bringing her closer to a climax that he knew that women possessed the ability to succumb to just as much as men.
Beyond the knowledge that with bodies joined and thrusting together, it would take basic time and stamina to ensure that they each found their peak of pleasure, Vangelis knew little else of the act of love or how to ensure it was carried out in the most joyous of ways. Either for himself or for the woman that had chosen herself as his first partner.
Instead, he relied solely on instinct. When she panted and mewed in pleasure, he kept going, when she made a more shocked noise in her throat - a gasping cut off scream of sensation - he paused a moment, fearing he had done something wrong and then moved once more after she had done so.
The entire process could have lasted seconds but to Vangelis it felt like a flash of a moment and an eternity all rolled into one. Sweat had broken out upon his temple and stuck his shirt to the small of his back. The cloak he had held between them had formed some kind of tent that kept the heat of their bodies clinging in their cocoon of desire, warming them both to higher levels of passion. The noise of their sex - a damp and clinging sound of pushing and pulling that joined with the sticky sensations around his member - echoed in the quiet of their little world. Shadowed only by the sounds from their own lungs and the gasps in their throats.
Focused entirely on his internal sensations, of the deep strokes to the core of her body that his own naturally sought, Vangelis almost missed her begs that he not stop, almost lost her words to the raging buzz of desire in his head. Feeling that he was close to the limit of his own stamina, his own ability to keep this going without exploding inside of her, Vangelis tried to encourage her to reach her own peak. How, he had no idea, but he knew what was sending him into a daze of ecstasy and so tried to offer her that.
His hips set up a harder rhythm.
Thrusting faster and with a heavier stroke that hit the spot he was so unaware of with greater force and a faster rush, Vangelis sped up their lovemaking in the hopes of giving her exactly what she wanted. He wasn't going to stop. But he also wasn't going to be able to keep on much longer and needed her to react so that he would be able to. For, in all the tales he had been told of this, he was most curious of the one that talked of the female release tightening, pulsing and milking upon his shaft in a way that he knew he would not be able to resist...
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Vangelis would have never, looking back on this moment in his life, have been able to call himself a considerate lover. Every move he made that sparked pleasure in his partner was more by accident than skill. Each movement that diminished it, that failed to find a point of ecstasy within her went unnoticed. To he, drowning in the sensations of what it meant to couple with another human, to engage in the efforts of sex as a man, it was hard to notice anything more specific than whether or not the woman before him was panting in pleasure who scrambling to get away.
She had latched her arms around his neck, she had clamped her thighs around his hips, she moved with him, with each thrust that set her bouncing in the support of her arms. All seemed to be signs that she enjoyed what was occurring between them but he had not the experience nor skill to sense as and when each particular thrust was bringing her closer to a climax that he knew that women possessed the ability to succumb to just as much as men.
Beyond the knowledge that with bodies joined and thrusting together, it would take basic time and stamina to ensure that they each found their peak of pleasure, Vangelis knew little else of the act of love or how to ensure it was carried out in the most joyous of ways. Either for himself or for the woman that had chosen herself as his first partner.
Instead, he relied solely on instinct. When she panted and mewed in pleasure, he kept going, when she made a more shocked noise in her throat - a gasping cut off scream of sensation - he paused a moment, fearing he had done something wrong and then moved once more after she had done so.
The entire process could have lasted seconds but to Vangelis it felt like a flash of a moment and an eternity all rolled into one. Sweat had broken out upon his temple and stuck his shirt to the small of his back. The cloak he had held between them had formed some kind of tent that kept the heat of their bodies clinging in their cocoon of desire, warming them both to higher levels of passion. The noise of their sex - a damp and clinging sound of pushing and pulling that joined with the sticky sensations around his member - echoed in the quiet of their little world. Shadowed only by the sounds from their own lungs and the gasps in their throats.
Focused entirely on his internal sensations, of the deep strokes to the core of her body that his own naturally sought, Vangelis almost missed her begs that he not stop, almost lost her words to the raging buzz of desire in his head. Feeling that he was close to the limit of his own stamina, his own ability to keep this going without exploding inside of her, Vangelis tried to encourage her to reach her own peak. How, he had no idea, but he knew what was sending him into a daze of ecstasy and so tried to offer her that.
His hips set up a harder rhythm.
Thrusting faster and with a heavier stroke that hit the spot he was so unaware of with greater force and a faster rush, Vangelis sped up their lovemaking in the hopes of giving her exactly what she wanted. He wasn't going to stop. But he also wasn't going to be able to keep on much longer and needed her to react so that he would be able to. For, in all the tales he had been told of this, he was most curious of the one that talked of the female release tightening, pulsing and milking upon his shaft in a way that he knew he would not be able to resist...
Vangelis would have never, looking back on this moment in his life, have been able to call himself a considerate lover. Every move he made that sparked pleasure in his partner was more by accident than skill. Each movement that diminished it, that failed to find a point of ecstasy within her went unnoticed. To he, drowning in the sensations of what it meant to couple with another human, to engage in the efforts of sex as a man, it was hard to notice anything more specific than whether or not the woman before him was panting in pleasure who scrambling to get away.
She had latched her arms around his neck, she had clamped her thighs around his hips, she moved with him, with each thrust that set her bouncing in the support of her arms. All seemed to be signs that she enjoyed what was occurring between them but he had not the experience nor skill to sense as and when each particular thrust was bringing her closer to a climax that he knew that women possessed the ability to succumb to just as much as men.
Beyond the knowledge that with bodies joined and thrusting together, it would take basic time and stamina to ensure that they each found their peak of pleasure, Vangelis knew little else of the act of love or how to ensure it was carried out in the most joyous of ways. Either for himself or for the woman that had chosen herself as his first partner.
Instead, he relied solely on instinct. When she panted and mewed in pleasure, he kept going, when she made a more shocked noise in her throat - a gasping cut off scream of sensation - he paused a moment, fearing he had done something wrong and then moved once more after she had done so.
The entire process could have lasted seconds but to Vangelis it felt like a flash of a moment and an eternity all rolled into one. Sweat had broken out upon his temple and stuck his shirt to the small of his back. The cloak he had held between them had formed some kind of tent that kept the heat of their bodies clinging in their cocoon of desire, warming them both to higher levels of passion. The noise of their sex - a damp and clinging sound of pushing and pulling that joined with the sticky sensations around his member - echoed in the quiet of their little world. Shadowed only by the sounds from their own lungs and the gasps in their throats.
Focused entirely on his internal sensations, of the deep strokes to the core of her body that his own naturally sought, Vangelis almost missed her begs that he not stop, almost lost her words to the raging buzz of desire in his head. Feeling that he was close to the limit of his own stamina, his own ability to keep this going without exploding inside of her, Vangelis tried to encourage her to reach her own peak. How, he had no idea, but he knew what was sending him into a daze of ecstasy and so tried to offer her that.
His hips set up a harder rhythm.
Thrusting faster and with a heavier stroke that hit the spot he was so unaware of with greater force and a faster rush, Vangelis sped up their lovemaking in the hopes of giving her exactly what she wanted. He wasn't going to stop. But he also wasn't going to be able to keep on much longer and needed her to react so that he would be able to. For, in all the tales he had been told of this, he was most curious of the one that talked of the female release tightening, pulsing and milking upon his shaft in a way that he knew he would not be able to resist...
Everything seemed blurred and unrecognizable. Between her legs seemed to grow sore, but deep within, particularly when the bulb of his shaft seemed to strike a somewhere within. It ached like a bruise but then lingered with pleasure when touched. Each stroke sent a ricochet of sensation through her, seeming to fill some place within her as if it were expanding and building in tension.
Then, like the crack of a whip, it burst. What it was, she could not say, but her body seemed to have a mind of its own as her gasping sounds seemed to turn into cries that bordered between agony and ecstasy. While it mirrored the building and mounting of pleasure that she had given herself with her own hands at night, this was somehow deeper.
Beyond that, the way it felt as he filled her with his length amplified the shocks of pleasure that rocked through her, stiffening her spine and her thighs in place as her head flew back, smacking solidly once against the stones in a way that sent a different set of stars behind her eyes, but also provided the support for the waves to crash through every inch of her.
What was that? Her eyes fluttered open to stare at the dark sky over his shoulder for the briefest moment, until his continued thrusts seemed to overwhelm her groin with overstimulation. Though the rasping, breathy cries of pleasure had subsided, a new sound clawed it's way from her, somewhere between a whine and a moan as the man between her legs continued thrusting at his will.
Part of her wished he would stop now that she had met her peak, but the onslaught of sensation against her heightened and sensitive plush core now toed the line between pleasure and pain, leaning more towards the latter. Where her arms had been around his neck, they now found purchase on his shoulders, with them extending in a way that pushed against him, pressing her back into the wall. It was not so much to escape him as it was to relieve the repeated pressure of his thrusting length on the now most tender part of her. Yet, his pace quickened and Thea prayed he was nearing his own finish.
Her breaths came out in rasps and after a few continued thrusts, her eyes clenched shut, stinging in the corners as he persisted, her gasps and moans sounding more desperate than ever as he kept going. Thea knew he would need to reach his end, and so she bore it, biting her lip to try to quell the sounds she made.
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Everything seemed blurred and unrecognizable. Between her legs seemed to grow sore, but deep within, particularly when the bulb of his shaft seemed to strike a somewhere within. It ached like a bruise but then lingered with pleasure when touched. Each stroke sent a ricochet of sensation through her, seeming to fill some place within her as if it were expanding and building in tension.
Then, like the crack of a whip, it burst. What it was, she could not say, but her body seemed to have a mind of its own as her gasping sounds seemed to turn into cries that bordered between agony and ecstasy. While it mirrored the building and mounting of pleasure that she had given herself with her own hands at night, this was somehow deeper.
Beyond that, the way it felt as he filled her with his length amplified the shocks of pleasure that rocked through her, stiffening her spine and her thighs in place as her head flew back, smacking solidly once against the stones in a way that sent a different set of stars behind her eyes, but also provided the support for the waves to crash through every inch of her.
What was that? Her eyes fluttered open to stare at the dark sky over his shoulder for the briefest moment, until his continued thrusts seemed to overwhelm her groin with overstimulation. Though the rasping, breathy cries of pleasure had subsided, a new sound clawed it's way from her, somewhere between a whine and a moan as the man between her legs continued thrusting at his will.
Part of her wished he would stop now that she had met her peak, but the onslaught of sensation against her heightened and sensitive plush core now toed the line between pleasure and pain, leaning more towards the latter. Where her arms had been around his neck, they now found purchase on his shoulders, with them extending in a way that pushed against him, pressing her back into the wall. It was not so much to escape him as it was to relieve the repeated pressure of his thrusting length on the now most tender part of her. Yet, his pace quickened and Thea prayed he was nearing his own finish.
Her breaths came out in rasps and after a few continued thrusts, her eyes clenched shut, stinging in the corners as he persisted, her gasps and moans sounding more desperate than ever as he kept going. Thea knew he would need to reach his end, and so she bore it, biting her lip to try to quell the sounds she made.
Everything seemed blurred and unrecognizable. Between her legs seemed to grow sore, but deep within, particularly when the bulb of his shaft seemed to strike a somewhere within. It ached like a bruise but then lingered with pleasure when touched. Each stroke sent a ricochet of sensation through her, seeming to fill some place within her as if it were expanding and building in tension.
Then, like the crack of a whip, it burst. What it was, she could not say, but her body seemed to have a mind of its own as her gasping sounds seemed to turn into cries that bordered between agony and ecstasy. While it mirrored the building and mounting of pleasure that she had given herself with her own hands at night, this was somehow deeper.
Beyond that, the way it felt as he filled her with his length amplified the shocks of pleasure that rocked through her, stiffening her spine and her thighs in place as her head flew back, smacking solidly once against the stones in a way that sent a different set of stars behind her eyes, but also provided the support for the waves to crash through every inch of her.
What was that? Her eyes fluttered open to stare at the dark sky over his shoulder for the briefest moment, until his continued thrusts seemed to overwhelm her groin with overstimulation. Though the rasping, breathy cries of pleasure had subsided, a new sound clawed it's way from her, somewhere between a whine and a moan as the man between her legs continued thrusting at his will.
Part of her wished he would stop now that she had met her peak, but the onslaught of sensation against her heightened and sensitive plush core now toed the line between pleasure and pain, leaning more towards the latter. Where her arms had been around his neck, they now found purchase on his shoulders, with them extending in a way that pushed against him, pressing her back into the wall. It was not so much to escape him as it was to relieve the repeated pressure of his thrusting length on the now most tender part of her. Yet, his pace quickened and Thea prayed he was nearing his own finish.
Her breaths came out in rasps and after a few continued thrusts, her eyes clenched shut, stinging in the corners as he persisted, her gasps and moans sounding more desperate than ever as he kept going. Thea knew he would need to reach his end, and so she bore it, biting her lip to try to quell the sounds she made.
It was as he had overheard such tales. When men were sent to war in the company of only each other, the little desirous feelings could be dampened was through vicarious listening. Those who sought the pleasure of sex workers would tell stories, those who were loyal to their wives were not private of such acts between them. Comments and discussion over the sexual experiences and prowess of the men was common and Vangelis had absorbed it with all the natural curiosity of an eighteen-year-old virgin.
So, as the pleasurable sensations shivered down his shaft, as this woman's inner muscles clamped down upon his member with a vice like grip that he did not recognise as being that of a previously chaste femininity, all the tales seemed to come into focus, combining with his own instincts for what to do.
When the stranger in his arms, cried out, any rational part of Vangelis' mind should have recognised the risk of the two of them being discovered. As she threw her head back and succumbed to the pleasure, his natural protectiveness should have checked that she had not hurt herself against the brick. When she pushed her body up and turned rigid, when her thighs clamped around his waist in a reaction that could have meant for him to stop, Vangelis should have ceased in his movement, made sure that she was alright.
In fact, he did none of it.
Too lost to the feeling of her inner body as it rocked with the force of a release, Vangelis was making his own noises of grunted reaction, his eyes shooting wide and yet unseeing, his head falling back on his neck whilst his hips drove forwards still harder, this time working with the rippling pull of her inner muscles as they tightened down on his manhood.
It was a miracle within itself that he didn't release his seed then, the pull was so strong and the heat of his arousal so high that it burnt through his veins and scolded his muscles. Perhaps he was simply too lost in the moment for his body to change anything it was doing. He would never know.
All he knew was that, in the moment that his partner found her release, some sort of animalistic power took over his limbs. Vangelis leant further in, despite the woman trying to push for more distance, his hands on her arse tightened, his fingers digging into the softness of her flesh. His hips worked like angry pistons, forcing himself deep within her, regardless of any and all noises that she made, until he finally started to feel the blessed tightening beneath his shaft and the squeeze of its release at its base.
Just as when he had pleasured himself alone since he had become a man in age, Vangelis felt his own mind lose out to the blinking lights and the darkness that descended over his vision as his hips threw themselves forwards one last time, burying him deeper than he had yet been, the hair of her core pressed flat against his as he drove to his hilt and then shook from head to toe as his cock jerked within her and released its seed into her hot and waiting body.
His mouth strained open; his lungs refused to give air as he grunted with the efforts of his own climax. Without noticing if the manner in which he had driven himself into her, or spread her legs wide to accommodate his hips, or plastered her against the wall with the force of his coupling was causing her discomfort, Vangelis fell into the shape of her thighs , pressing into her in a way that pinned his first lover between his body and the wall. He held no more strength, relying on the way she was propped by both and skewered upon his shaft to keep her from falling. Every muscle in his body felt as if it might have turned to wool and he had to blink before he was once again able to see...
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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It was as he had overheard such tales. When men were sent to war in the company of only each other, the little desirous feelings could be dampened was through vicarious listening. Those who sought the pleasure of sex workers would tell stories, those who were loyal to their wives were not private of such acts between them. Comments and discussion over the sexual experiences and prowess of the men was common and Vangelis had absorbed it with all the natural curiosity of an eighteen-year-old virgin.
So, as the pleasurable sensations shivered down his shaft, as this woman's inner muscles clamped down upon his member with a vice like grip that he did not recognise as being that of a previously chaste femininity, all the tales seemed to come into focus, combining with his own instincts for what to do.
When the stranger in his arms, cried out, any rational part of Vangelis' mind should have recognised the risk of the two of them being discovered. As she threw her head back and succumbed to the pleasure, his natural protectiveness should have checked that she had not hurt herself against the brick. When she pushed her body up and turned rigid, when her thighs clamped around his waist in a reaction that could have meant for him to stop, Vangelis should have ceased in his movement, made sure that she was alright.
In fact, he did none of it.
Too lost to the feeling of her inner body as it rocked with the force of a release, Vangelis was making his own noises of grunted reaction, his eyes shooting wide and yet unseeing, his head falling back on his neck whilst his hips drove forwards still harder, this time working with the rippling pull of her inner muscles as they tightened down on his manhood.
It was a miracle within itself that he didn't release his seed then, the pull was so strong and the heat of his arousal so high that it burnt through his veins and scolded his muscles. Perhaps he was simply too lost in the moment for his body to change anything it was doing. He would never know.
All he knew was that, in the moment that his partner found her release, some sort of animalistic power took over his limbs. Vangelis leant further in, despite the woman trying to push for more distance, his hands on her arse tightened, his fingers digging into the softness of her flesh. His hips worked like angry pistons, forcing himself deep within her, regardless of any and all noises that she made, until he finally started to feel the blessed tightening beneath his shaft and the squeeze of its release at its base.
Just as when he had pleasured himself alone since he had become a man in age, Vangelis felt his own mind lose out to the blinking lights and the darkness that descended over his vision as his hips threw themselves forwards one last time, burying him deeper than he had yet been, the hair of her core pressed flat against his as he drove to his hilt and then shook from head to toe as his cock jerked within her and released its seed into her hot and waiting body.
His mouth strained open; his lungs refused to give air as he grunted with the efforts of his own climax. Without noticing if the manner in which he had driven himself into her, or spread her legs wide to accommodate his hips, or plastered her against the wall with the force of his coupling was causing her discomfort, Vangelis fell into the shape of her thighs , pressing into her in a way that pinned his first lover between his body and the wall. He held no more strength, relying on the way she was propped by both and skewered upon his shaft to keep her from falling. Every muscle in his body felt as if it might have turned to wool and he had to blink before he was once again able to see...
It was as he had overheard such tales. When men were sent to war in the company of only each other, the little desirous feelings could be dampened was through vicarious listening. Those who sought the pleasure of sex workers would tell stories, those who were loyal to their wives were not private of such acts between them. Comments and discussion over the sexual experiences and prowess of the men was common and Vangelis had absorbed it with all the natural curiosity of an eighteen-year-old virgin.
So, as the pleasurable sensations shivered down his shaft, as this woman's inner muscles clamped down upon his member with a vice like grip that he did not recognise as being that of a previously chaste femininity, all the tales seemed to come into focus, combining with his own instincts for what to do.
When the stranger in his arms, cried out, any rational part of Vangelis' mind should have recognised the risk of the two of them being discovered. As she threw her head back and succumbed to the pleasure, his natural protectiveness should have checked that she had not hurt herself against the brick. When she pushed her body up and turned rigid, when her thighs clamped around his waist in a reaction that could have meant for him to stop, Vangelis should have ceased in his movement, made sure that she was alright.
In fact, he did none of it.
Too lost to the feeling of her inner body as it rocked with the force of a release, Vangelis was making his own noises of grunted reaction, his eyes shooting wide and yet unseeing, his head falling back on his neck whilst his hips drove forwards still harder, this time working with the rippling pull of her inner muscles as they tightened down on his manhood.
It was a miracle within itself that he didn't release his seed then, the pull was so strong and the heat of his arousal so high that it burnt through his veins and scolded his muscles. Perhaps he was simply too lost in the moment for his body to change anything it was doing. He would never know.
All he knew was that, in the moment that his partner found her release, some sort of animalistic power took over his limbs. Vangelis leant further in, despite the woman trying to push for more distance, his hands on her arse tightened, his fingers digging into the softness of her flesh. His hips worked like angry pistons, forcing himself deep within her, regardless of any and all noises that she made, until he finally started to feel the blessed tightening beneath his shaft and the squeeze of its release at its base.
Just as when he had pleasured himself alone since he had become a man in age, Vangelis felt his own mind lose out to the blinking lights and the darkness that descended over his vision as his hips threw themselves forwards one last time, burying him deeper than he had yet been, the hair of her core pressed flat against his as he drove to his hilt and then shook from head to toe as his cock jerked within her and released its seed into her hot and waiting body.
His mouth strained open; his lungs refused to give air as he grunted with the efforts of his own climax. Without noticing if the manner in which he had driven himself into her, or spread her legs wide to accommodate his hips, or plastered her against the wall with the force of his coupling was causing her discomfort, Vangelis fell into the shape of her thighs , pressing into her in a way that pinned his first lover between his body and the wall. He held no more strength, relying on the way she was propped by both and skewered upon his shaft to keep her from falling. Every muscle in his body felt as if it might have turned to wool and he had to blink before he was once again able to see...
The rush of her own climax was fading swiftly, though each of his strokes and primal sounds threatened to tease her pleasure back to the forefront. That all shifted like the tone in his gasps as he met his own release, gasping as unsteadily as the shift in the pace between their hips.
In a motion, he seemed to press forward against her, his weight pinning her against the rough-hewn wall behind her as his hips kept her hoisted up from the ground, legs wrapped loosely around his waist and slowly losing their traction.
Thea wanted down.
As clarity passed through her mind, Thea thought of the relative significance of this moment. It was her entrance into womanhood and was taboo beyond almost all reason. As a member of a royal line, it would have done her better to remain virginal until she wed to ensure the legitimacy of her future husband's line. And yet, as Nethis had been so keen to point out as they read over scandalous tomes of Dionysian exploits, no new husband would enjoy a woman who seemed ignorant in the bedroom, would they?
Granted, that was not at all what she thought of as she readjusted her hands on his shoulders and gave them a slight squeeze, asking permission as her own lungs still burned as they strove to find air. One leg, she let unfurl from around his waist and she let it gingerly stretch down to the ground so she could find a way to support herself once again.
The minor shifts allowed her cheek and neck to feel the drag of his stubble across her skin, an oddly pleasurable sensation that almost reignited temptation and desire if it were not for her body's exhausted protests. Still, not knowing when she would have the liberty to explore a man's body again so intimately - particularly one so well-formed and idealized - Thea turned her head to let her lip drag openly along the line of his jaw, leading down slightly to where it met his neck. The pronounced tendon there practically begged her to wrap her lips around it, and when she did, she tasted the salt of his sweat on her tongue.
The soft smack of her lips against his skin seemed to echo in the darkness where they were, and she let one of her hands drift down from his shoulder across the damp, heated expanse of his chest, her fingers dipping slightly beneath the fabric that covered him. Damn the night and damn his coverings! Thea wanted nothing more in that moment than to see if his form was a well-formed bare as the statues that lingered in the city square. She suspected they were, but doubted she would come to find the truth as their time was clearly coming to an end.
Pity.
Still pinned in place, she pulled her lips away from his neck, the back of her head once again pressed against the stone to try to find any fair look at him in the moonlight, perhaps even catching his eyes. Her hand shifted up to guide him to look at her, curving under his chin and adjusting ever so slightly to trace a finely manicured nail across his lower lip.
"Put me down, soldier," she ordered softly, a satisfied, cat-like smile on her lips and a soft rumble of amusement in her tone as she spoke.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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The rush of her own climax was fading swiftly, though each of his strokes and primal sounds threatened to tease her pleasure back to the forefront. That all shifted like the tone in his gasps as he met his own release, gasping as unsteadily as the shift in the pace between their hips.
In a motion, he seemed to press forward against her, his weight pinning her against the rough-hewn wall behind her as his hips kept her hoisted up from the ground, legs wrapped loosely around his waist and slowly losing their traction.
Thea wanted down.
As clarity passed through her mind, Thea thought of the relative significance of this moment. It was her entrance into womanhood and was taboo beyond almost all reason. As a member of a royal line, it would have done her better to remain virginal until she wed to ensure the legitimacy of her future husband's line. And yet, as Nethis had been so keen to point out as they read over scandalous tomes of Dionysian exploits, no new husband would enjoy a woman who seemed ignorant in the bedroom, would they?
Granted, that was not at all what she thought of as she readjusted her hands on his shoulders and gave them a slight squeeze, asking permission as her own lungs still burned as they strove to find air. One leg, she let unfurl from around his waist and she let it gingerly stretch down to the ground so she could find a way to support herself once again.
The minor shifts allowed her cheek and neck to feel the drag of his stubble across her skin, an oddly pleasurable sensation that almost reignited temptation and desire if it were not for her body's exhausted protests. Still, not knowing when she would have the liberty to explore a man's body again so intimately - particularly one so well-formed and idealized - Thea turned her head to let her lip drag openly along the line of his jaw, leading down slightly to where it met his neck. The pronounced tendon there practically begged her to wrap her lips around it, and when she did, she tasted the salt of his sweat on her tongue.
The soft smack of her lips against his skin seemed to echo in the darkness where they were, and she let one of her hands drift down from his shoulder across the damp, heated expanse of his chest, her fingers dipping slightly beneath the fabric that covered him. Damn the night and damn his coverings! Thea wanted nothing more in that moment than to see if his form was a well-formed bare as the statues that lingered in the city square. She suspected they were, but doubted she would come to find the truth as their time was clearly coming to an end.
Pity.
Still pinned in place, she pulled her lips away from his neck, the back of her head once again pressed against the stone to try to find any fair look at him in the moonlight, perhaps even catching his eyes. Her hand shifted up to guide him to look at her, curving under his chin and adjusting ever so slightly to trace a finely manicured nail across his lower lip.
"Put me down, soldier," she ordered softly, a satisfied, cat-like smile on her lips and a soft rumble of amusement in her tone as she spoke.
The rush of her own climax was fading swiftly, though each of his strokes and primal sounds threatened to tease her pleasure back to the forefront. That all shifted like the tone in his gasps as he met his own release, gasping as unsteadily as the shift in the pace between their hips.
In a motion, he seemed to press forward against her, his weight pinning her against the rough-hewn wall behind her as his hips kept her hoisted up from the ground, legs wrapped loosely around his waist and slowly losing their traction.
Thea wanted down.
As clarity passed through her mind, Thea thought of the relative significance of this moment. It was her entrance into womanhood and was taboo beyond almost all reason. As a member of a royal line, it would have done her better to remain virginal until she wed to ensure the legitimacy of her future husband's line. And yet, as Nethis had been so keen to point out as they read over scandalous tomes of Dionysian exploits, no new husband would enjoy a woman who seemed ignorant in the bedroom, would they?
Granted, that was not at all what she thought of as she readjusted her hands on his shoulders and gave them a slight squeeze, asking permission as her own lungs still burned as they strove to find air. One leg, she let unfurl from around his waist and she let it gingerly stretch down to the ground so she could find a way to support herself once again.
The minor shifts allowed her cheek and neck to feel the drag of his stubble across her skin, an oddly pleasurable sensation that almost reignited temptation and desire if it were not for her body's exhausted protests. Still, not knowing when she would have the liberty to explore a man's body again so intimately - particularly one so well-formed and idealized - Thea turned her head to let her lip drag openly along the line of his jaw, leading down slightly to where it met his neck. The pronounced tendon there practically begged her to wrap her lips around it, and when she did, she tasted the salt of his sweat on her tongue.
The soft smack of her lips against his skin seemed to echo in the darkness where they were, and she let one of her hands drift down from his shoulder across the damp, heated expanse of his chest, her fingers dipping slightly beneath the fabric that covered him. Damn the night and damn his coverings! Thea wanted nothing more in that moment than to see if his form was a well-formed bare as the statues that lingered in the city square. She suspected they were, but doubted she would come to find the truth as their time was clearly coming to an end.
Pity.
Still pinned in place, she pulled her lips away from his neck, the back of her head once again pressed against the stone to try to find any fair look at him in the moonlight, perhaps even catching his eyes. Her hand shifted up to guide him to look at her, curving under his chin and adjusting ever so slightly to trace a finely manicured nail across his lower lip.
"Put me down, soldier," she ordered softly, a satisfied, cat-like smile on her lips and a soft rumble of amusement in her tone as she spoke.
Vangelis wasn't entirely sure that he had full possession of his limbs in that moment. This might have been because the coupling had been particularly good - that it had drawn him of his energy and adrenaline as only the very best sex could (according to soldier talk). But Vangelis was inexperienced enough not to know the difference between good and bad sex. In fact, he was inexperienced enough to have not been able to recognise exactly how long their little explosive triste against the wall had actually taken. It could have been hours; it could have been mere minutes. As wet behind the ears as he was at this, it was likely to be more of the latter. Yet, he could not, in that moment, find it in himself to care enough over self-analysis. He had coupled with a woman for the first time, seen that she reached her peak (though this was more via luck than skill) and had found his own climax.
To an eighteen-year-old boy, that was success enough.
Breathing heavily, Vangelis closed his eyes against the sensations the woman wrought upon his neck. Her lips traced over his jawline, her tongue and kiss finding the tendon of his neck that immediately set fire over his skin. He felt as if the hairs over the back of his head were moving to stand upright, that desire was static in his veins. Whilst his muscles had been reduced to little but water and his manhood now depleted in a way that would not be rectifiable for some time, apparently it did not stop the touch and smell of a willing woman from sparking arousal along his nerve endings. Regardless of how unable he now was to do anything about them.
It was the ultimate tease.
His jaw squaring with the clenching of his jaw, Vangelis inhaled shallowly and used his weakened arms to push himself away from the woman in question. With a little distance and limited moonlight, he could note her pale skin - now far pinker and with a heated glow that it had lacked before - and ebony hair that shone in glimmering locks.
A true Colchian beauty. As he had thought when she had walked into the tavern against which they now leaned.
'Put me down, soldier.'
The words were simple enough. And somehow managed to be both demanding and soft in nature. With a calm expression and a simple nod of deference, Vangelis moved away, his hands coming to her hips so that he could support her. His voice was gruffer than normal in the darkness, like broken slate instead of simple gravel.
"Yes, ma'am."
As he released her, Vangelis pulled himself free of her core and used his hands to settle her to the ground, as a cold chill settled around the damp surface of his sensitive flesh. Not sure how to behave or what to do in such a circumstance, Vangelis reacted as felt natural to him. After stuffing himself back into his pants and pulled closed the stays and belt, he then removed the cloak that hung around his shoulders. Settling it around the woman's frame so that her state of undress was not seen, he swept an inner corner of the garment up between her legs and brushed gently at the swollen and heated flesh. Perhaps it was an odd gesture, but one that Vangelis saw as a means of cleaning up after he had taken just liberties with her. Even if she had been the one to suggest their evening activity.
Dropping the cloak quickly enough, Vangelis drew its edges together around the young woman and then took a step back, the hood from his overshirt enough to keep his identity hidden between here and the ship that he would have to return to.
His lips parted as if he were about to ask if she needed something, if he was now supposed to look after her in some way. Instead, his mouth simply remained open for a moment, then snapped shut and he gave a curt nod. An awkward and shallow half bow followed and then Vangelis was leaving the woman to her own means, still unconvinced that he had done anything of his duties that night appropriately…
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Vangelis wasn't entirely sure that he had full possession of his limbs in that moment. This might have been because the coupling had been particularly good - that it had drawn him of his energy and adrenaline as only the very best sex could (according to soldier talk). But Vangelis was inexperienced enough not to know the difference between good and bad sex. In fact, he was inexperienced enough to have not been able to recognise exactly how long their little explosive triste against the wall had actually taken. It could have been hours; it could have been mere minutes. As wet behind the ears as he was at this, it was likely to be more of the latter. Yet, he could not, in that moment, find it in himself to care enough over self-analysis. He had coupled with a woman for the first time, seen that she reached her peak (though this was more via luck than skill) and had found his own climax.
To an eighteen-year-old boy, that was success enough.
Breathing heavily, Vangelis closed his eyes against the sensations the woman wrought upon his neck. Her lips traced over his jawline, her tongue and kiss finding the tendon of his neck that immediately set fire over his skin. He felt as if the hairs over the back of his head were moving to stand upright, that desire was static in his veins. Whilst his muscles had been reduced to little but water and his manhood now depleted in a way that would not be rectifiable for some time, apparently it did not stop the touch and smell of a willing woman from sparking arousal along his nerve endings. Regardless of how unable he now was to do anything about them.
It was the ultimate tease.
His jaw squaring with the clenching of his jaw, Vangelis inhaled shallowly and used his weakened arms to push himself away from the woman in question. With a little distance and limited moonlight, he could note her pale skin - now far pinker and with a heated glow that it had lacked before - and ebony hair that shone in glimmering locks.
A true Colchian beauty. As he had thought when she had walked into the tavern against which they now leaned.
'Put me down, soldier.'
The words were simple enough. And somehow managed to be both demanding and soft in nature. With a calm expression and a simple nod of deference, Vangelis moved away, his hands coming to her hips so that he could support her. His voice was gruffer than normal in the darkness, like broken slate instead of simple gravel.
"Yes, ma'am."
As he released her, Vangelis pulled himself free of her core and used his hands to settle her to the ground, as a cold chill settled around the damp surface of his sensitive flesh. Not sure how to behave or what to do in such a circumstance, Vangelis reacted as felt natural to him. After stuffing himself back into his pants and pulled closed the stays and belt, he then removed the cloak that hung around his shoulders. Settling it around the woman's frame so that her state of undress was not seen, he swept an inner corner of the garment up between her legs and brushed gently at the swollen and heated flesh. Perhaps it was an odd gesture, but one that Vangelis saw as a means of cleaning up after he had taken just liberties with her. Even if she had been the one to suggest their evening activity.
Dropping the cloak quickly enough, Vangelis drew its edges together around the young woman and then took a step back, the hood from his overshirt enough to keep his identity hidden between here and the ship that he would have to return to.
His lips parted as if he were about to ask if she needed something, if he was now supposed to look after her in some way. Instead, his mouth simply remained open for a moment, then snapped shut and he gave a curt nod. An awkward and shallow half bow followed and then Vangelis was leaving the woman to her own means, still unconvinced that he had done anything of his duties that night appropriately…
Vangelis wasn't entirely sure that he had full possession of his limbs in that moment. This might have been because the coupling had been particularly good - that it had drawn him of his energy and adrenaline as only the very best sex could (according to soldier talk). But Vangelis was inexperienced enough not to know the difference between good and bad sex. In fact, he was inexperienced enough to have not been able to recognise exactly how long their little explosive triste against the wall had actually taken. It could have been hours; it could have been mere minutes. As wet behind the ears as he was at this, it was likely to be more of the latter. Yet, he could not, in that moment, find it in himself to care enough over self-analysis. He had coupled with a woman for the first time, seen that she reached her peak (though this was more via luck than skill) and had found his own climax.
To an eighteen-year-old boy, that was success enough.
Breathing heavily, Vangelis closed his eyes against the sensations the woman wrought upon his neck. Her lips traced over his jawline, her tongue and kiss finding the tendon of his neck that immediately set fire over his skin. He felt as if the hairs over the back of his head were moving to stand upright, that desire was static in his veins. Whilst his muscles had been reduced to little but water and his manhood now depleted in a way that would not be rectifiable for some time, apparently it did not stop the touch and smell of a willing woman from sparking arousal along his nerve endings. Regardless of how unable he now was to do anything about them.
It was the ultimate tease.
His jaw squaring with the clenching of his jaw, Vangelis inhaled shallowly and used his weakened arms to push himself away from the woman in question. With a little distance and limited moonlight, he could note her pale skin - now far pinker and with a heated glow that it had lacked before - and ebony hair that shone in glimmering locks.
A true Colchian beauty. As he had thought when she had walked into the tavern against which they now leaned.
'Put me down, soldier.'
The words were simple enough. And somehow managed to be both demanding and soft in nature. With a calm expression and a simple nod of deference, Vangelis moved away, his hands coming to her hips so that he could support her. His voice was gruffer than normal in the darkness, like broken slate instead of simple gravel.
"Yes, ma'am."
As he released her, Vangelis pulled himself free of her core and used his hands to settle her to the ground, as a cold chill settled around the damp surface of his sensitive flesh. Not sure how to behave or what to do in such a circumstance, Vangelis reacted as felt natural to him. After stuffing himself back into his pants and pulled closed the stays and belt, he then removed the cloak that hung around his shoulders. Settling it around the woman's frame so that her state of undress was not seen, he swept an inner corner of the garment up between her legs and brushed gently at the swollen and heated flesh. Perhaps it was an odd gesture, but one that Vangelis saw as a means of cleaning up after he had taken just liberties with her. Even if she had been the one to suggest their evening activity.
Dropping the cloak quickly enough, Vangelis drew its edges together around the young woman and then took a step back, the hood from his overshirt enough to keep his identity hidden between here and the ship that he would have to return to.
His lips parted as if he were about to ask if she needed something, if he was now supposed to look after her in some way. Instead, his mouth simply remained open for a moment, then snapped shut and he gave a curt nod. An awkward and shallow half bow followed and then Vangelis was leaving the woman to her own means, still unconvinced that he had done anything of his duties that night appropriately…