01-31-2019, 07:27 PM
She smirks at the label the rogue issues her, ears flicking as though she mentally tries it on for size; feisty,; there passes through her mind many of memory of just such a word being used to describe her. Growing up as the eldest of the final two Learrant daughters, left to care for her younger sister in the wake of their disappearance and essential death, she supposes that she needed one such attribute to call her own. After all, there had never been anyone else to look after her except herself.
The stallion's breath pools warmly against the skin of her face and neck, the taste of it heavy with sweetness, an over powering poison.
Xz-i-ah, uttered the black, drawing out her name as though to do so might create for them a hole in the time-space continuum, a vacuum where only they can exist until time immemorial. She thinks, in that moment, of how greatly the notion tempts her; and privately, she comes to understand just why her royal parents drifted off into the netherrealm as they did so many decades ago.
But she is not her parents, and this interaction is assuredly not one they would smile upon.
My only duties right now are to you. This phrase he speaks with the same inflection, though the length of it is cut short as the larger stallion's lips find purchase on the silky locks of her mane. A jolt runs through her body, one which speaks embarrassingly clearly of desire, and especially, need; Xiah wonders with a shift of her gaze if Oxytocin can feel the heat which subsequently rushes to her face. Feeling her front of dominance and power begin to crumble beneath the weight of wanting the stallion so badly, the mare shifts her own legs closer, colliding her lithe black frame with his muscular one in an all too needy way.
He grins, sensing her need, sliding his body up hers and finding the sensitive tissues of her inner ear. The deep syllables of his name bring a matching expression to the mare's visage, her lips curving elegantly and sinfully in the folds of her muzzle. Her shapely head tilts back, angling as though to do so might send his words even more titillatingly through her; and, with a rewarding lushness, they come, spilling from her head to her toes like scalding wax.
Ironic, that they find themselves so aroused where dozens lay dead - and dying. Xiah is not blind to those without the energy to do anything but stare as the romancers trist openly in the middle of the field; she meets the gaze of one such unlucky soul now, her grin growing ever more wicked as she imagines the last thing they hear being the sound of their carnal fucking.
Without further ado, the princess side steps, sliding herself sensually into most tempting of positions. The heady scent of her fertility wafts intoxicatingly around the stallion, the perfume of her smearing inelegantly along the stallion's broad chest as she teasingly swings her hips from side to side. "Pleeease, Oxytocin," she enunciates breathlessly, head tipping back, mouth falling open. Let the dying have a real show; and let her have some pleasure for the first time in too long. "Please, please won't you fuck me..."
The stallion's breath pools warmly against the skin of her face and neck, the taste of it heavy with sweetness, an over powering poison.
Xz-i-ah, uttered the black, drawing out her name as though to do so might create for them a hole in the time-space continuum, a vacuum where only they can exist until time immemorial. She thinks, in that moment, of how greatly the notion tempts her; and privately, she comes to understand just why her royal parents drifted off into the netherrealm as they did so many decades ago.
But she is not her parents, and this interaction is assuredly not one they would smile upon.
My only duties right now are to you. This phrase he speaks with the same inflection, though the length of it is cut short as the larger stallion's lips find purchase on the silky locks of her mane. A jolt runs through her body, one which speaks embarrassingly clearly of desire, and especially, need; Xiah wonders with a shift of her gaze if Oxytocin can feel the heat which subsequently rushes to her face. Feeling her front of dominance and power begin to crumble beneath the weight of wanting the stallion so badly, the mare shifts her own legs closer, colliding her lithe black frame with his muscular one in an all too needy way.
He grins, sensing her need, sliding his body up hers and finding the sensitive tissues of her inner ear. The deep syllables of his name bring a matching expression to the mare's visage, her lips curving elegantly and sinfully in the folds of her muzzle. Her shapely head tilts back, angling as though to do so might send his words even more titillatingly through her; and, with a rewarding lushness, they come, spilling from her head to her toes like scalding wax.
Ironic, that they find themselves so aroused where dozens lay dead - and dying. Xiah is not blind to those without the energy to do anything but stare as the romancers trist openly in the middle of the field; she meets the gaze of one such unlucky soul now, her grin growing ever more wicked as she imagines the last thing they hear being the sound of their carnal fucking.
Without further ado, the princess side steps, sliding herself sensually into most tempting of positions. The heady scent of her fertility wafts intoxicatingly around the stallion, the perfume of her smearing inelegantly along the stallion's broad chest as she teasingly swings her hips from side to side. "Pleeease, Oxytocin," she enunciates breathlessly, head tipping back, mouth falling open. Let the dying have a real show; and let her have some pleasure for the first time in too long. "Please, please won't you fuck me..."