There were two things Dragonborn mage Lita never thought she’d ever see. The first was Mara’s wedding altar, the second was two dragons going at it.
Well, she still suspected she’d never see the first.
She blinked, unsure what she should be thinking or doing, and wondering if maybe she should turn away and give poor Odahviing some privacy and go back to town and tell the Jarl there was no way she was killing her favorite dragon’s…girlfriend? Boyfriend? Were there girl dragons or were all dragons gay? If there were no girl dragons anywhere why did they need procreation equipment?
That was some impressive procreation equipment.
Embarrassment finally caught up to her shock, and Lita turned and marched away, face flaming but unable to get the image of that large cock her friend had been slamming in and out of that other dragon out of her head. It made sense that dragons were packing; they were huge. It also made sense for the shape to be different, and for what looked like soft, smooth scales to cover it, and…
Lita realized she’d be masturbating to that image tonight and groaned, hiding her face in her hands. How was she ever supposed to look Odahviing in the eye again?
A triumphant roar echoed off the mountain pass around her and she raced away, hoping to be out of earshot before they started round two.
The worst thing about the College wasn’t the cold, it was the lack of privacy. Lita sighed, laying in her bed in the Hall of Attainment, listening to one of her fellow apprentices move about and wishing they would go to sleep already. She shifted, idly toying with the end of her short braid, nibbling the inside of her cheek as she wondered if she was really going to attempt this. The rooms had no doors, and any sound she made was going to go right to the waiting ears of whoever might be up.
But she couldn’t get that image out of her head. She’d seen farm animals in similar positions, even seen drawings of people going at it like that, but nothing had ever made her heart pound like the sight of Odahviing holding down that other dragon, their tails entwined and his body curled around theirs, the rolling undulations of his thrusts rubbing them together all along their length. Her clit swelled at the thought, nipples hardening until the rub against her nightclothes was near torture.
“Something’s wrong with me,” she muttered.
“What is it?” Onmund asked worriedly, poking his head around the doorframe.
She jumped, then sighed. “Nothing. It’s nothing.” Turning over, she pressed her eyes shut and tried to ignore the demands thundering through her flesh, half wishing she had the courage to proposition the other apprentice, though something told her it wouldn’t be enough.
Finally, after what felt like forever, the Nord turned in for the night. Lita slid quietly out of bed, padding in stocking feet around the magelight well, checking each room to ensure the occupant was actually sleeping. Then, and only then, did she return to her own bed.
Hesitantly, she ran her hands from her stomach to her hips, then back up, cupping her breasts and lightly rolling the nipples between thumb and forefinger. Lightning raced from her nipples to the tingling between her thighs. Lita bit her lip, inhaling sharply and arching into her touch. She toyed with them for a while, until the pressure was unbearable and the throbbing of her clit could no longer be ignored. The chill of her fingers brushing over her mound made her hiss lightly, and she paused, listening. The steady breathing of the others reassured her, and she slid a single finger into her folds.
The amount of moisture she found there was shocking. Divines, but had she ever been this wet with so little physical encouragement. Her hips jerked as her fingertip brushed the swollen nub, circling it with sure, tight strokes. Lita turned her head into her pillow, biting it to hide the moans she couldn’t completely stifle. Her legs twitched, hips pushing upwards into her hand, her movements frantic now, desperate to orgasm. She was so close, almost there…
The sight of the dragons fucking played through her mind again, and she shattered, gasping into her pillow with sweat sheening her body, relief echoing through her.
“If this one needs assistance next time…”
Face flaming, Lita sat up and threw a fireball at the Khajiit, which of course woke everyone else up, and Lita decided she’d had enough of the College for a few weeks.
She was fuming. More embarrassed than she could ever remember, but fuming. Lita stared up at the old stone fort before her and ground her teeth. “’Just a friendly competition,’” she muttered to herself mockingly. “’One more drink and you get the staff.’” Muttering insults and dire consequences for the Breton mage she’d met in the Winterhold tavern, she strode through the entranceway, blasting back the ne’re-do-wells of various sorts that attempted to waylay her.
“’I have a powerful staff,’” she continued, incinerating a man in fur armor on guard. “I’m going to shove it up his…Okay, that’s different.”
Lita paused, examining the portal hovering next to a throne. Embarrassment and fury receded enough for curiosity to take over. Making her way up the stairs, she looked it over a long moment before taking an involuntary step backwards. She’d taken enough Conjuration classes to recognize an Oblivion Gate when she saw one, even without the spiky doorframe they were known for.
Pursing her lips, the curiosity grew. If not Mehrunes Dagon’s, who’s Gate was this?
A head popped through it, a familiar Breton head with bloodshot eyes and thick dark hair. “Finally! I thought you’d NEVER get here!” he said, reaching out and grabbing her.
And just like that, Lita was in Oblivion.
She screeched, looking around and backpedaling toward where the Gate should have been, but when nothing worse than a misty, moonlit glade met her eyes, she calmed. “Er…”
“Welcome to the Misty Grove!” Sam said cheerfully, clapping her on the back. Lita looked back at him and jumped. No longer was her former drinking companion a short Breton, but a tall Dremora, with curling horns and a mischievous expression on his lively face.
“Sanguine, Prince of Revelry,” he finished for her, beaming. His teeth looked impossibly white in his coal-black face. “Come along, now. We don’t want to miss the party.”
“Of course there’s a party,” she sighed. “It’s the Realms of Revelry, why wouldn’t there be a social situation?”
Sanguine chuckled, coming up beside her to put a friendly arm around her shoulders, towing her forward. “It’s not that bad. Have a drink or two, I’ll try to seduce you again, you’ll loosen right up.”
“I am not drinking with you aga—try?” Lita glanced up at him with wide eyes.
He pouted. “Tried mightily.” Those teeth flashed again with a cunning grin. “It appears I’m not your type, however.”
Oh, oh no. “What did I tell you?” she demanded desperately, whirling as they approached a clearing with a table set in it, several people who looked vaguely familiar seated around it.
Leaning in, Sanguine’s breath wafted over her ear a moment before his tongue did. “Dragons,” he purred. “One in particular, it sounds like.”
“Oh, Divines,” she moaned, hiding her face in her hands as Sanguine roared with laughter.
“Don’t be so embarrassed. You managed to surprise me, which doesn’t happen often. It makes me happy,” he told her, falling into the chair at the head of the table and taking her down with him. Lita found herself on Sanguine’s lap, entirely certain she didn’t want to be there, but not wanting the other revelers to overhear anything they might say. “As it is,” he said, capturing her attention again as he reached around her to pour two glasses of wine, “it got me thinking.”
“What’s the point?” she asked morosely, accepting the glass but not drinking any of it. “It’s impossible.”
“Lita, my dear girl, remember where you are,” he admonished, squeezing her hip. “Nothing is impossible when you believe in yourself and use the right lube.”
He tapped her nose as if she were a silly child, then produced a jar, handing it to her with a flourish. “I am willing to make a deal. I will ensure you come to no harm from that unsurprisingly magnificent piece of equipment your friend is packing, if you two let me watch.”
Blood rushed to her face so fast her ears popped. “WHAT?” she squeaked.
Chuckling, Sanguine leaned in, leaving nipping little kisses along her jaw up to her earlobe. “Let. Me. Watch. I want to see that curvy little body of yours trapped under your dragon. I want to see how you move when he’s thrusting into you. I want to see how a dragon reacts to the impossible tightness of your cunt. I want to hear the sounds you two make. I want to know if you swell with his cum,” he finished filthily, spreading his hand over her stomach.
Lita moaned at the touch, belly quivering with want. She was so wet the Daedric Prince could probably feel it on his thigh. From the lascivious smile he gave her, she bet he could.
Sanguine stroked the back of his fingers up her stomach, brushing over her breast and tweaking a nipple. “Do we have a deal?”
Gasping, trying to see through the haze of need that seemed to infect her with every gasping breath she took, Lita blurted out, “Odahviing! He…” she shut her eyes tightly, gritting her teeth to get the words out, “He’d never agree.”
“He already has.”
Time stopped with her breath. Looking up, eyes wide, she couldn’t believe it when Sanguine nodded to her unspoken question.
“He was shocked at first,” the Daedra continued, “but he looked intrigued. You’re strong, and if you were a dragon in body instead of just soul he would have already propositioned you, apparently. Got rather hot and bothered thinking about it, really. Only took him half a day to summon me back and ask how it might be done.”
Licking her lips, she whispered nervously, “And…how might it be done?”
He jingled the jar, making its contents slosh slightly. The liquid looked rather thick. “You willing to try?” he cajoled.
“What…” she broke off, looking down as anxiety swept through her. “What if it goes wrong? What if he doesn’t like it?”
Her chin was tilted up, then the Prince of Debauchery was kissing her, awakening every nerve in her body and possibly creating a few new synapses. He broke off after a moment to grin down in to her dazed expression. “Not possible. These are the Realms of Revelry. The only thing you’ll find here is pleasure, and it will echo with you wherever you go so long as you invoke me.”
She had enough sense left to glower at him. “You’re trying to make me a Sanguinite,” she realized.
“Guilty as charged, Champion-to-Be,” he admitted jovially. “What do you say?”
Looking at the way the light moved on the liquid as she turned the jar delicately in her fingers, Lita found herself saying, “Where’s Odahviing?”
Sanguine bound to his feet, holding her like a new husband does his bride when hurrying off to consummate it. The comparison made her chuckle.
“Odahviiiiing!” the Daedra sing-songed as he entered what looked like an entirely different realm. In fact, it almost looked as if they had entered an old Dragon Cult site, with the familiar stone and iron statues and a large altar centering the vast stone courtyard.
“Dragons and Dwemer, all about the stone,” Sanguine grumbled, and as she watched the table was covered with soft fur-covered mattresses and pillows. The observation receded when a familiar shadow passed overhead, and Odahviing landed with a thunder of wings, the ground shaking.
“Dovahkiin,” he said softly, eyes on her, “Lita. Are you certain?”
She couldn’t talk. Her gaze had moved passed the uncommonly soft expression in his eyes to the erect cock jutting out from an opening in his scales between his legs. A wanton, strangled noise she’d have been embarrassed about at any other time snuck past her lips.
“I speak Needy Woman. That means ‘take me now, big boy,’” Sanguine told the dragon helpfully, carrying her over to the table as Odahviing moved aside. She’d never seen him so restless, shifting his wings and twitching his muscles so his scales hissed over each other like whispers.
“Lita, dear, I’m going to need you to stand on your own a moment,” the Daedra told her indulgently, setting her down. Her legs nearly buckled, but she firmed them at the last minute, sternly telling her knees that dragons respected strength, and inadvertently kneeling before them was probably a bad idea.
They almost did it anyway when Sanguine started removing her clothes for her. She darted a nervous look at him and he soothed, “He can’t do it, so just look at him. That’s right, look at the pretty dragon.” Sanguine was apparently obscenely practiced at removing clothing, because he had her naked before he finished talking, and Winterhold weather necessitated layering.
“Isn’t she a sight, Odahviing?” Sanguine asked, running his hands down her arms as she shivered. She wasn’t cold, and it wasn’t just desire, either. Sanguine was doing some sort of magic on her. “Come here, Lita,” he said, drawing her backwards until she was flush against his front, still facing Odahviing. The dragon was tense, barely blinking as he stared at her, the tip of his tail twitching every so often like an impatient cat.
Sanguine slid his legs between hers, lifting her up against him so she half sat, half leaned on him, opening her up for Odahviing’s gaze. Her face turned as red as his scales, until Sanguine’s fingers slid into her folds, spreading them, too, caressing as she gasped and arched back into him.
“The jar, Lita,” he prompted, sounding as if he found her eagerness amusing. His free hand put the glass container in one of her hands, and she fumbled it open. He dipped his fingers in and spread the contents around her labia, then rimmed her entrance.
She spasmed, heat spreading through her. She’d thought she was aroused before, thought she couldn’t ache to be filled any harder, but everything she’d ever felt was completely eclipsed by the desire that flooded her, flushing her skin and soaking her folds.
The feeling of Sanguine’s clothing sliding along her back as he moved away was torture, the caress of the soft furs he laid her down on, carefully positioning her legs on the edge, was far too much. She whimpered, distantly hearing him telling Odahviing something, laughter and eagerness in his tone. Lita wondered grouchily what was so amusing about all this.
Her eyes opened blurrily to find the dragon’s head right above her, looking down. With a nervous smile, she reached up and ran her hand along his jaw, pleased when he tilted his head into her touch. He moved his muzzle to the side of her face, then dragged it lightly, oh so lightly, down to her shoulder. “I can barely feel you,” he observed wistfully, ghosting his scales down her front as she arched into him. “There are so few places I can feel softness…” He continued downward, rubbing the sides of his face against the inside of her thighs, and she saw stars. “I can’t hurt her?” he rumbled, looking up to the Prince for confirmation.
“Not in ways she doesn’t want you to,” Sanguine observed, sitting in a chair that hadn’t been there and drinking from another goblet of wine.
Odahviing’s jaw parted, his teeth hovering over her breasts, but before she could ask what he was doing, something hot, long, and flexible swiped up through her folds. Lita gasped and jumped, hands snapping up to grasp the sides of Odahviing’s upper jaw as he rumbled with pleasure, the sound traveling through his tongue where it lapped roughly at her. He dragged it from her back entrance up over her clit, the flexible tip digging slightly into each pleasure point.
“Ooh,” Lita managed, turning her head so her round eyes could meet Sanguine’s. He was leaning forward, his own eyes wide and wondering. They really were the first pair to do this. “Oh, shit,” she whispered, the last words she was able to recall as that dexterous, thick tongue slid inside her, withdrew, then, at her disappointed cry, shoved back inside, thicker than any cock she’d ever taken. The pleasure shot through her, finding the barriers of embarrassment and trepidation in her mind and obliterating them.
Lita writhed, her hips pushing up against the rough muscle impaling her, Odahviing’s teeth scraping harmlessly over her skin. She wrapped her arms around his muzzle to keep him close to her, her body tightening until she shattered, screaming.
Odahviing pulled away immediately, snarling at Sanguine. “You said I couldn’t hurt her!”
“That is so far from hurt that she might smack you for leaving her in the middle of it,” Sanguine replied lazily.
Odahviing’s head swung back to examine her. Lita gave him a reassuring smile, her body still flushed and sweating from her orgasm. “That was amazing,” she told him, feeling her legs tremble when she lowered them. Glancing at Sanguine, she lifted the jar questioningly.
“I think it’s obvious he needs it too,” he told her laconically.
Sliding off the table, she padded over to Odahviing, who watched her movements with the same sort of enchanted curiosity one might a beauty from a tale. Lita reached up and touched his jaw again, and he lowered his head until she could rest against his forehead, breathing heavily. “Are you ready?” she asked him.
“If this hurts you, I’ll eat him,” he promised her.
“As long as it’s not how you just ate me,” she teased, then giggled at his astonished gaze. Moving past his wings, she halted, taking a deep breath when she finally got a good look at what awaited her.
Without Sanguine’s promises, she would have given up right then: Odahviing’s cock was as long and thick as her thigh. The very tip was as thick as a well-endowed human’s, swelling to a knot a third of the way in, then turning to a stalk half the knot’s girth after that, gradually getting thicker to the base. It was covered in ridges like a softer version of his scales, pleasantly blunt as she ran her shaking hand over him, the texture reminding her of leather.
Odahviing’s entire body was trembling as she touched him. She grinned, realizing that his penis was every bit as sensitive as his tongue. Opening the jar, she slathered the contents over him, smoothing it down his length and around the knot. Hefting it curiously, she examined the large slit in the end, already glistening with opaque white fluid.
“Hold still,” she ordered, then took the comparatively narrow head into her mouth. Warmth spread around her with the strange sound the dragon made, and she grinned, realizing he’d just hissed out steam. Suckling as much of him as she could into her mouth, she flicked her tongue over every ridge and soft fold of skin. The precum was not nearly as unpleasant as the few times she’d done this for a human lover, being much less bitter and less salty. It was hot, though, nearly scalding her tongue as another burst filled her mouth, and Lita decided not to push it, pulling away and lowering the hands that had been pumping up and down the thick stalk behind the knot.
Odahviing moved faster than she’d ever seen a dragon manage before. Twisting aside until his blazing eyes met hers for a split second, his head forced her to stumble back until she hit the table and fell backwards, then pressed down against her in a charged echo of their earlier embrace. His chest was heaving, and she smiled.
“I really liked seeing you fuck that other dragon,” she told him, making his eyes shoot open. “I thought about it for days. Touched myself to it. I’ve never orgasmed to my own touch as hard or as fast as I did thinking about how powerfully you moved, and how you roared your pleasure afterwards.” Sliding her hand over the scales below his eye, she put a quiet order in her voice, “Take me, Odahviing.”
That was all that was needed. The dragon lifted his head and rolled her over, pushing her shoulders so her head lay against the soft pillows before moving over her. Lita shook a little at the reminder of just how massive he was compared to her, and looked once more at Sanguine for reassurance. The Daedra was watching them keenly, his hands wrapped in the hair of another dremora sitting on the ground, sucking him off. She blinked at the sight before a heated brush along her backside sent her heart racing.
Lita stilled, then shifted her hips slightly, rubbing her slit along the head of the dragon’s cock until it caught in her entrance. Pleasure sang through her at the slight stretch of her channel around the blunt end. “Odahviing,” she moaned, and at the sound of his name on her lips his hips jerked forward.
The first part of his cock lodged inside her, halting and catching at the knot. It was already the size of a large human penis, and Lita huffed out a breath, bracing herself as her insides rippled, needing movement. Odahviing dragged it backwards, then thrust it lightly back in, the slow friction of the ridges only making her hunger for more.
“Lita…” His voice was strained.
“I can take it,” she promised, curling her hands into the furs. Her toes curled, nipples rasping over the fur, so close to orgasm and needing him more than she needed to breathe. “Please!”
Odahviing roared and thrust forward, slamming her down onto the table as the knot forced its way past her entrance, scraping and stretching and filling her, all the ridges along his length finding and caressing the places inside her no lover or toy had ever reached before. Lita could only gasp and moan, twitching and writhing as his inward thrust went on far longer and deeper than it should have been able to, and she distantly realized that not only had Sanguine made it so she couldn’t be harmed, but he’d made her able to accommodate him somehow.
Alright, she thought weakly, I’ll be his Champion for giving me this.
Rough scales met her rear, the outer lips of her cunt spread wide around the base of his cock as their bodies finally met. Odahviing was breathing harshly, matching her breath for gasping breath.
“I’m fine,” she assured him, barely able to get the words out as she squeezed him. “Better than fine.”
His groan of relief vibrated through her, making her whimper. He shifted, the front claw of his wings gouging into the stone on either side, his feet planted more firmly, and her entire body moved with it. “Brace yourself,” he growled out, “I cannot hold back much longer.”
“I never asked you to, moron,” she rolled her eyes, then shrieked as he moved back, dragging himself out of her until the knot popped outside, forcing it all back in with a flick of his hips. “Oh, yes…” she moaned, arching herself up to him a little higher and hiding her face in the furs.
The sound of pleasure undid whatever control he’d been managing to that point. Odahviing roared again, his hindquarters jerking with the undulating movements of his body, dragging that wonderful, strange cock in and out of her at speeds she couldn’t have imagined possible. She didn’t realize she was chanting his name until she had to stop to listen to his deep voice speaking, praising her for taking him, for being so tight, so soft, better than any dragon he’d ever mated. Courageous and kind, her spirit strong and uncorrupted.
Her heart swelled at the words, and she smiled into the pillows she grazed over with each sway of her body, unable to be still under the force with which he filled her. “You’re huge, Odahviing,” she gasped out, stars filling her vision as the ridges and knot scraped against every nerve ending in her vagina, the bursts of his precum leaving trails of heat inside her. “I love your size, and your power. I’ll never want anyone else after this. Nothing can…” she moaned as her words made him jerk into her harder, upsetting his rhythm before gaining speed, “Nothing can compare to this. To the feel of you. How you fill me…” She could feel her clit swelling, her belly tightening with the upcoming explosion. “Fill me, Odahviing. Come in me.”
“Geh, Thuri!” he snarled, chest falling down onto the altar in front of her as his thrusts became heavier, finally assaulting her cunt the way she’d seen him do that other dragon, all his considerable strength and power centered on slamming his cock into her eager pussy, each dragging motion rubbing her against the blankets and his scales, drawing the knot out only to force it back in.
Lita arched back, unable to take it. Her vision went white and her womb contracted, her cunt desperately pulsing around the invading, pistoning cock as rapture burst through her mind and body. Her clit was a small wellspring of delight, flooding through her with little twitches, but the deep, shuddering power of her inner orgasm went on and on, blotting out anything but a pleasure that ripped her apart and made her new.
“OD AH VIING!” she Shouted, and he swelled inside her, the knot throbbing outward and sending her flying again just before molten heat filled her, distending her stomach slightly and gushing out of where they joined to coat their legs. The heat of it trickling over her clit made her sigh out another moan, unable to do anything else. Lita was nearly crushed under Odahviing, who had gone almost as limp as her after the victorious roar that accompanied his orgasm. Her lips curled into a smile, her lower half dangling on his length until it gradually began slipping back from her body into his. Dropping onto the altar, she curled up in the warmth of her dragon and fell into an exhausted, sated slumber.
Lita gradually awoke surrounded by warmth, more comfortable and relaxed than she could remember having ever been before. Pleasure still spiked and pulsed through her loins, and she stretched, wondering who or what had done that.
She collided with dragon scales and abruptly remembered the night before.
Eyes popping open wide, she sat up and looked around frantically, pulling the covers around her. It was still night, stars twinkling above in lewd patterns she’d never seen, confirming that she was still in the Realms of Revelry. The altar was gone, but the blankets, mattresses, and pillows remained. Odahviing had curled himself around them, and her, and looked to still be sleeping.
“That,” a familiar voice said happily, “was well worth the effort of figuring out the magic.”
Lita glanced over to see Sanguine laid out on another pile of mattresses, surrounded by four sleeping Sanguinites of various races, including the dremora she’d seen. Apparently one hadn’t been enough. “I…” she looked at Odahviing’s relaxed face, bashfulness and anxiety returning.
Sanguine waved off her words before she could speak them. “He doesn’t regret it. He was very impressed, in fact. Smitten, of all disgusting things. Kept calling you ‘mate’ last night and threatening my hide if I woke you with my antics.”
Warmth and hope filled her, and she perked up. “He did?”
“Yeah,” the Daedra yawned. “I don’t usually have Champions in committed relationships, but you two are special. Besides, even if that hadn’t ruined you for mortal men, I think he’d eat them.”
“Probably,” she agreed, humor returning. Reaching out, she ran a tender hand along Odahviing’s face, careful not to wake him. “Do you have more of whatever was in that jar?”
“You have a lifetime supply,” Sanguine promised. “Don’t expect me not to come by and watch the action now and then.”
“With friends,” she noted, raising an eyebrow at the unconscious revelers.
“That is how I work,” he reminded her, flopping back down.
She smiled, settling herself in to go back to sleep by her mate’s jawline. “Sanguine?” she asked, something occurring to her.
“What?” he asked grouchily, making her wonder if he was the Daedric equivalent of Not a Morning Person.
“I’m not going to have an egg, am I?” she finished anxiously.
“It was a legitimate question,” she grumbled, curling up.
“Don’t worry about that. Worry about building up your stamina for later. I’m not sending you two home until I get to watch that again!”
She snorted, then smiled. “Whatever your reasons, thanks Sanguine.”
“My pleasure,” he said emphatically.