The marshlands air had a strong almost vinegar taste. This bothered the black dragon, but nowhere near enough to stop his journey. His arms and legs were getting sore as he pulled his cart, its wooden wheels digging shallow trenches in the dirt road with every rotation. While it would have been easier to travel light, knowing how the village would appreciate his gifts kept him going. Cryus was on his way to see his daughter and he would do so in spectacular fashion. He was eager to see her participate for her first time in the yearly tournament the orcs put on.
It had been some time since last he saw his progeny and she was already a fine warrior and woman. She chose to stay in the orc village run by her mother Morn, enjoying the more rustic home, rather than the grandeur of Cyrus’ kingdom. It had been many years and the plot of land he acquired had developed into a grand city, making him a king by his own hand.
The dragon still had half a day's travel left, when his eyes happened across a tent on the side of the road. It was simple but would keep a traveler warm. Exactly something Morn would like. At that he was stopped dead in his tracks, as a spear flew through the air to drive itself into the ground near his feet.
“Do you greet all travelers this way?” Cyrus asked, eyeing up the thrower of the homemade spear.
“Only the big dangerous ones.” A feminine voice responded. An orc emerged from behind foliage, having been practically invisible a moment before. “Cryus, you big lug, how are you?”
The black dragon let go of his cart, letting its pulling bars rest in place. He eyed up the orc before him and was overjoyed. When he first met Morn she was in her early twenties. Back then she was toned, perky, and hot-headed. Over the years she lost some of her muscle definition, but still she was as strong and stubborn as ever. Cryus tried his best to repress his primal urges, but couldn’t hide his enchantment at seeing Morn looking so delightfully mature. He reasoned she was in her early fifties by now, which placed her in prime mother age by orcish standards.
“I see you haven't changed a bit.” Morn said, cocking her hips and pointing to the dragon’s crotch. Despite his best efforts his penis was already beginning to throb. He chuckled, pulling the cart to the side of the road.
“I attempted to control myself some, but your charms are too much for me.”
“You're hopeless, I haven't done anything yet.” Morn stated as she retrieved her spear. “Even a big guy like you has to be tired from traveling that much, follow me.”
She motioned for the dragon to follow her into the tent. It was reasonable in size, both had to hunch over somewhat so their heads wouldn't graze the top. The tent was minimal, having only what Morn thought would be necessary, such as furs for bedding and basic cooking supplies. They sat for long hours and caught up on their many escapades and adventures. The two sat next to each other, enjoying a meal of freshly hunted deer Morn provided. She had it in her head that too many luxuries would make her soft and for the dragon any meal with a friend as a feast. Cyrus did steal as many glances at his companion as possible. She kept styling her hair into a long braid, and the usually black hair had several stripes of gray. She still kept the sides of her head shaved down, leaving only stubble. Her breasts have gotten even bigger now adopted a nice motherly hang. In her younger years she would be topless but it seems she took note from her friend, Razasha, and was now accustomed to wearing a bra. No doubt this was purely for support as the orc never had a notion of modesty. Her middle-aged body was now cushioned with more fatty curves, but still sported powerful muscles. It also seemed the orc woman had stopped shaving her body, as even though she had a loincloth on it was very clear she had a large bush of pubic hair and a happy trail leading to her belly button. When she lifted her arms the dragon could see she had let her armpit hair grow out as well. Her face had started to show signs of age, with crow’s feet wrinkling around her eyes each time she smiled. Needless to say the reptile was beyond smitten and ideas of mating flooded his mind.
Morn was never one for flattery or typical flirting. He knew if he tried typical romantic advances he would get nowhere. His only hope was engaging at Morn’s preferred level; as direct as possible.
“Do you wanna fuck?”
Morn didn't even so much as flinch in her response. “Yeah, sure.”
Cyrus instead blinked at this. “I was expecting you to be a little taken off guard.”
Morn snorted. “Please, I'm only surprised it took you this long to ask.” She stood up, tossing aside her loincloth to reveal her hairy bush in all its glory. He leaned forward, wanting to bury his face in it. He was stopped when the orc raised her foot and placed it on his snout to push him back. “Hold up there. I'm not looking forward to laying another egg.”
The dragon tried his best to pretend he didn't like the orc’s sole in his face and let out a disappointed whine.
“Listen.” Morn stated matter of factly, while pushing him back to regain her footing. “Orcs are not built to lay eggs. Last time I had to push one out, the thing hurt like all hells. I guess that’s one thing a male never needs to worry about. We can still fuck, we just need to avoid knocking me up.”
Cyrus gulped. He knew Morn had a version of birth control that was as effective as any method he’d ever seen. Either the male cannot climax or his seed is no longer potent. The orc lady was of course referring to traditional orcish birth control. This meant she would tenderize his testicles until his cum lost its mojo. He would still climax but only to shoot blanks. Still, the idea of mating with a fully mature Morn was too tempting an offer to pass up. He survived this before, and was confident he could do so again. After some hesitation, he stood up and removed his loincloth before spreading his legs.
Morn bit her lip. Seeing a big strong dragon standing and exposing his most vulnerable area stirred something inside her. She also noted that despite the prospect of getting his balls busted the dragon was still at half mast at least. His penis, even when it wasn’t fully hard, remained much larger than even the most hung orc. Not wanting to keep the poor male in suspense too long she took a step forward and launched her other upward, hitting the dragon dead center of his sac. She had decades of experience fighting dirty and she had hit more testicles than she could count, so a kick from her hurt worse than most others. Her kicks were practiced, precise, and deadly.
Even with as much mental preparation as he could muster he was still unready for the pain. That one kick hurt like she had driven a mace between his legs. He let out a low moan and lurched forward, his hands forced to his knees to keep himself relatively upright. The pain kept hitting him in waves radiating up through his loins and going into his gut. Once more he moaned and struggled to keep his standing.
“Amazing, most guys curl up into a ball after just one kick.” Morn said, planting her fists on her hips.
“I'm not like most guys.” Cyrus stated, trying his best to keep his cool, but a cracking in his voice ruined this effect.
Morn continued, kicking his balls with varying degrees of force. While she definitely did enjoy abusing a willing pair of nuts, she wanted to make sure the potent dragon didn't impregnate her again. His balls started to swell nicely from the abuse and the dragon was drenched in sweat. His breath was heavy and deep, but still he stood. Morn walked up to him, placing a hand under his maw and making him look her in the eye. Their gazes met and she kissed him. The dragon was too lost in pain to fully process for a moment, but he was able to return the embrace soon enough. He wrapped his arms around her, running a hand across her hair and enjoying the feeling of each strand. Morn placed her hands on his chest, feeling up his pectoral muscles. Her hands were rough and coarse, a testament to a lifetime of adventures and fighting. Cyrus wouldn't have it any other way. He brought his body closer, his still hard dick began to rub against the woman’s stomach. He could feel a layer of fat over her hard abs. He grinded his hips back and forth, feeling a bead of pre cum already leaking.
Suddenly Morn moved her hands upward and grabbed the male’s shoulders. She stepped back and drove her hard knee right into the dragon’s left ball. He was stunned and for a brief moment he felt no pain. This only worried him more, as he knew the agony would hit him any second. The orc didn't wait for this, and in a blindingly quick motion she shot her other knee and hit his right ball.
Morn was a seasoned warrior and expert ballbuster. Her aim was true, each strike hitting the dead center of the dragon’s tender organs and compressing the meat of his nuts between her leg and his pelvis. He let out a loud scream of pain and put all of his body weight on Morn, who kept him upright. He groaned in agony as both strikes finally registered.
“There there, big guy. I’m all done, I promise.” She patted his back and kept him on his feet. Having him mewling and squirming on him did turn her on, and she could feel her own lions starting to get wet. After a moment the orc guided the dragon down and let him sit on the ground. His hand shot to his aching manhood and tried to cradle the pain away.
“You won't be knocking anyone up tonight.” Morn said.
“Im worried I wont knock anyone up ever again.” Cyrus stated, followed by another moan.
Morn let him recover for a moment before speaking up. “I think you deserve a little reward for taking that much abuse.”
Morn knew how to push the dragon’s buttons. “Just sit back and enjoy Momma Morn’s show.”
Normally this would require musical accompaniment, but it works fine well enough. She started to move her body in a rhythmic motion, loosening up her muscles. It had been some time since she danced for the pleasure of a king, the last time was when she and Razasha were forced to do so for the Sultan. Still, she remembered the lessons that adventure taught, mainly that dance can put a man into a horny trance.
Cyrus watched on in awe. Morn always struck him as so crude and direct that a sexual dance that was this enticing was beyond her. He enjoyed the show, his eyes unable to decide where to rest. Every part of her body seemed to turn him on as she moved. Her long legs stepped and moved, flexing her powerful leg muscles. Her rounded hips, made wider with age, swayed with such grace that they seemed unreal. Her breasts, though still in the dwarven made bra, had enough cleavage showing that the dragon could bury his whole face in easily. Most of all was her face. Normally she wore a scowl, but now it seemed much more inviting. Her mouth curled into a playful smile. Her eyes had softened, meeting his gaze and locking it an sultry embrace. The dragon’s hand moved away from his balls and to his penis. To his surprise it was already rock hard, the brutal kneeing was not enough to keep his libido down. He started to stroke himself, his eyes dating all over the woman’s body. Cyrus knew that when the orc wanted she could turn up her sexy and turn anyone into putty.
Morn smirked. Cyrus was as shameless as ever. She knew his sex drive wouldn't be damped by any amount of orcish birth control, but his levels of horniness surprised even her. She could have fucked him then and there, but she couldnt resist teasing him to his limit. Thinking back to her old martial arts sensei, that damn pervy lizard, she remembered that she was taught a “work out dance” and wondered if this lizard would like it as much. She spun to face away from the dragon. She stuck out her ass and began to focus all of her movement on it. Her cheeks, while toned, bounced and wobbled in an almost hypnotic motion. She moved her butt with the utmost expertise. The orc didn't need to turn around to know his eyes were glued to her rump. She could feel his intense gaze upon her. She decided to really push the dragon over the edge. She straightened up and started to almost hop, bouncing her feet so her heels left the ground. The motion caused her ass cheeks to part then move back together. She kept this up until she got in the proper rhythm and she suddenly moved her pace up even more. A loud clapping was heard as her cheeks slammed together over and over.
Cyrus was immediately enthralled, but the sound of her ass clapping triggered a deep dark primal urge inside the dragon. He was already edging and eager to fuck the orc, but now his mind went blank totally. It was like a mating call, his instincts took over as he was completely and hopelessly lost in lust.
Morn threw her hips back once more and with a final loud clap she breathed deep and looked back at the dragon. His hand was a blur on his manhood and she feared he would cum then and there, ruining all her hard work. She grabbed his shoulders and shoved him down, forcing him to his back. “Now you're only gonna touch me, got it?”
Morn could have commanded the dragon to do anything and he would have complied. “Yes, Ma’am!”
She wasted no time, moving to hover above the dragon’s throbbing manhood. His member was the length of an arm of a smaller race and thick as their torso. But Morn never backed down from a challenge. She lowered herself down, facing away from the dragon, and sat on his dick. She guided it inside her and did her best to take its full length. The orc woman muttered curses between her lips as the pain of such a fat cock hit her. Still, she refused to back down and inch by inch managed to conquer the whole thing.
“Oh gods!” Cyrus cried, his toes curling. He ran a hand across his face and up to his horns, the sudden pleasure of her womanhood being more than he imagined.
Morn’s face displayed a wild grin. She pumped her hips up and down, bouncing on the dragon’s hips. Looking down, she saw the length of his shaft glistening in her juices. It had been a long while since she had been filled up like this. Cyrus laid there, enjoying the feeling but all the teasing that led up to this caused something to snap in his head. Under normal circumstances he would have been happy to let her do all the work, but burning desire overtook him. He roared loudly, shocking even Morn.
His scaly hands grabbed her hips, stopping her in place. He planted his feet into the ground and thrust upward. He was going to take control, fucking her as he wants to. He was beyond words and could only grunt and snarl, his mind blank save for his own desires. His muscles strained in this awkward position, but the idea of stopping for even a single moment to change positions was intolerable to him. He kept going. His hand moved away from the woman’s hip and he grabbed a handful of her soft ass. He squeezed hard, causing Morn to yell out. She didn't stop the dragon, as she was lost in her own bliss. Part of her was happy she chose to face away from the dragon, as her tongue was lolling out of her mouth and drool started to drip down the side of her mouth. She would be too embarrassed to let Cyrus see how much she enjoyed this. The dragon kept going, sweat dripping from every part of his body. Finally he felt his climax fast approaching. He grabbed the green woman’s hips and pulled her in deep. He roared again, hard enough to shake the tent they were in. His abused balls clenched as they shot every last drop of cum out. Morn let out a hot lusty moan as she could feel the hot semen shooting directly into her womb, filling her up completely. Still, the dragon’s cum spilled out of him and he could feel it dripping down on his crotch. He held her there until his orgasmic spasms subsided. Then exhaustion hit and he let go. Morn used the last of her strength, her legs giving out from too much stimulation, and collapsed besides the dragon.
“Damn, you really missed me, I take it?” Morn asked between breaths.
Cyrus smiled. “No one can compare to you.”
Morn and Cyrus continued to Morn’s village, with Cyrus forced to more so hobble due to his aching balls. The dragon was surprised to see the guards were on high alert due to loud roaring heard the night before. The dragon had to explain that it was him and quickly apologized for getting everyone on edge. He was able to defuse any tension when he finally revealed the contents of his cart. It was full of supplies from across the lands. Food and drink he had had delivered to his own kingdom. Several exotic beverages, such as sake and rum. The preserved meat of a chimera, ready to be cooked up. As well as a generous monetary donation which Cyrus assured Morn was purely as a tribute between kingdoms. Morn, who is the orcish chieftain, declared the food and drink will be enjoyed in a feast at the end of the tournament. Cyrus did have one last gift to give, handing a spear forged by his own children. Its tip was formed to be hard as diamond and sharp as obsidian. Its shaft was lightweight, but durable. It was balanced to match Morn’s preferred weight and length for her own weapons. She took it and examined it thoroughly. Giving a few practice thrusts she nodded in approval, thanking Cyrus.
Morn gave Cyrus a tour. The tribe was nowhere near as large or illustrious as the people he ruled over in his own land, but it had an undeniable appeal. It was relatively small, only having a simple palissade to keep the wild out and each building was some form of hut or wooden structure. Morn has returned to the village she grew up in and became the chief, leading the tribe to a new age of prosperity. The orcs enjoyed a good relationship with Cyrus’ kingdom, as several of his strongest warriors originated from their village. Likewise Morn made sure to help patrol along their common border, keeping it free from monsters and bandits.
While walking to the shaman’s hut the dragon was struck from behind. He stumbled as a great force hit him and he struggled to stay upright. Muscular arms wrapped around his chest, squeezing the breath from his lungs. He panicked for a moment, his fight or flight reflex kicking in from years of adventure. One look down at the arms dispelled any fears he had. They had green skin, like that of an orc, but also the top of the arms, from shoulder to knuckles, were covered in dark green scales. He was delighted to feel a pair of soft breasts pressing against his.
“Daddy!” A feminine voice almost shrieked in his ears. Her joy was clear in her tone. This was Pride, the daughter Morn and Cyrus had together.
“As swift as the wind and silent as a shadow.” Cyrus commented, his voice beaming with pride. “I never heard you coming.”
Pride released her father allowing him to turn and face her. The hybrid girl stood almost as tall as her father. She looked like a typical orc, save her teeth that came to shape points. Her build was much like her mother in her prime, all lean green muscle. Her arms and legs had a layer of dark green scales on them, providing natural armor. Behind her a dragonic tail wagged excitedly.
“I've been training a lot!” She declared, punctuating her statement with a lively hop.
Cyrus eyed her up and down, enjoying the view. “I can tell.”
Her eyes lit up. “You have to meet my boyfriend, he is an apprentice to the village shaman. She says he is coming along nicely, he's at the hut now.”
Pride did not wait for a response, eagerly leading the way. Cyrys saw that she wore a loincloth high at the middle of her stomach, and that the clothing only had a front part. Even if her tail did hide much of her behind he still stole glances at her rump as she hurried to her love.
The shaman hut was one of the larger in the village, its dark red fabrics blowing in the wind. There was a large central pillar where the rest of the structure would hang from. A large skull was positioned above the entryway, it looked human but only had one eye socket in the middle along with a pair of tusks on the cheek.
Pride beamed and pointed to the bones. “I hunted that beast myself, it was rampaging through a little village when I took it down.”
Cyrus was ready to hear the tale, but it seemed his daughter was more keen on introducing her boyfriend than explaining how she had slain a beast. His daughter hurried inside, disappearing behind a hanging curtain that served at the entrance. The dragon followed and was hit by a wave of heat. Strange smells hit him. Some sweet, many sour, others musky. The fabric that made up the hut blocked out all light, leaving the inside to only be illuminated by countless candles scattered around. Once his eyes adjusted to the penumbra he looked around at countless shelves filled with dried herbs, jars of unknown substance, and many things whose purpose he couldn't even begin to imagine. In the center, two figures were hunched over a large cauldron.
One was an older orc, whose snow white hair was messily tied back into a ponytail. She stood only at pectoral level to Cyrus. Of particular note was that she was almost as wide as she was tall, with a large wobbling ass sticking out behind her. Her breasts drooped low and swung with her every movement. She was very pudgy overall, with hanging fat from her thighs, arms, and stomach. Her green skin was broken up by white lines that ran along her arms and legs, with a simple skull pattern on her face. Even if Cyrus didn't realize it his body had already begun to react to the sight, his loins stirring to life.
“Announce yourself before you barge in!” The older woman’s voice scolded. “We could have been working on a delicate mixture.”
“Sorry Elder Dura.” Pride said as she lowered her head in embarrassment. “It's just that my father Cyrus came to visit and I was so eager to introduce him to Snak.”
She gestured to the second figure. He stood a full head shorter than Dura. His skin was a lighter shade of green, but it was silky smooth and without any scar or blemish. His arms were slender and his chest very narrow. His hips produced out wide, giving him a very bottom heavy look. Cyrus noted that he had better child bearing hips than Pride. The orc let out a panicked gasp when he looked at the dragon, his eye hiding behind long bangs. His full plump lips stretched into a worried grimace.
“Pl-pleasure to meet you, sir.” He stammered out, extending a shaky hand to the dragon.
“The pleasure is all mine.” He said, taking the orc’s hand and planting a kiss on the top.
Snak’s face flushed into a bright blush. Pride only giggled. “I can tell you two will get along great.” She looked to her father’s crotch, seeing his loincloth was standing fully upright. She bit her lip.
“Hate to cut this short.” Morn stated upon entering the tent. “But the first rounds of the tournament will start and Pride will be on soon.”
Snak looked at the shaman, who dismissed him with a wave of her hand. Morn led the way out, her past experience with potions bringing up bad memories, and making her eager to leave. Pride and her boyfriend followed out quickly after. Cyrus was about to go, when he was stopped when he felt a tugging at his tail. He turned to see the shaman grasping it.
“A moment of your time?” She asked.
Cyrus was worried about missing the match, but reasoned this may not take long.
“Pride is terrible with introductions.” She sighed. “My name is Dura, shaman of the village.”
“Pleased to meet you.” He said, looking at the woman more closely. She was fully nude, not even wearing a loincloth as was the style to the orcs. Instead she had a large patch of white pubic hair, so much that it totally hid her womanhood. He could see that her body had a drop of sweat running down it. He breathed through his nose, and the tangy scent of her body cut through the other strange smells of the hut.
She darted a glance at his crotch, seeing his penis was fully erect. “I can tell. Morn told me a lot about you, and I am hoping she was right.”
“Oh, what did she say?”
Dura cleared her thoughts. “That you a horned up hedonist who can fuck for days straight if you let him.”
The dragon chuckled, putting his hands up. “Guilty as charged there.”
“I'll get to the point, I want your seed.”
Cyrus cocked a brow at this, and felt his dick twitch.
Dura continued. “Dragon cum is a powerful catalyst, it has many uses and can increase the potency of several spells and potions. My own brew of body paint could use some.”
Cyrus was a little let down, but still very intrigued. “I can never refuse the request of a fair maiden.”
The shaman chuckled. “No need for flattery. I'm grateful you would say that.” She skimmed her shelves before finding an empty jar. “You can pleasure yourself and fill this up.”
Cryus took the jar and placed it on the ground. “We can get a lot more out if you were to help me.” He let his lusty gaze dance across her body. “Directly I mean.”
She let out a surprised gasp as the dragon hooked an arm around her and brought her close. He pressed her soft body against his scales, feeling the damp skin against his own. She was warm, even in his already hot hut. He moved his maw down to her shoulder and in a long slow lick he glided his tongue all the way up to her ear. The salty taste of her sweat delighted him.
Dura let out a moan as she reflexively wrapped her arms around the dragon, her nails scratching at him. She composed herself. “I have to warn you. I'm not as spry as I was, but I can be a demanding lover.”
“Demand away. I won't shy away from a challenge.” With that he brought his maw to the woman's lips and kissed her. He was happy to feel her tongue press against his lips and he parted them so she could explore his mouth. He moved his body closer, letting his throbbing dick press against her bush. He shuddered when he felt the thick tangle of hair against his head. He loved when they let their hair grow out. The two continued their embrace, before Dura pulled away. Her knees crackled as she got down on all fours, her fat ass pointing at the dragon.
“Don't be gentle.”
Cyrus smiled. No matter the age, orcs seemed to refuse to be handled with care. Still, he lowered himself to her level and guided his dick to between her cheeks. He let out a low moan as his yellow dick was lost between the mounds of fat. He grabbed at her sides, jiggling her rump and momentarily enjoying the feeling of her ass grinding against him. He couldn't wait any longer and he used his hand to lower his penis until it met her slit. It glided in easy, her womanhood already wet with excitement.
Dura let out a gasp when it went in, and the dragon briefly worried he may have been too fast for the woman. He stopped.
“If you don't stop teasing me I’ll put a hex on your nuts!” She spat.
Cyrus wasn't sure if this was in jest or not. Again he had to admire the undying spirit of the orc. He obliged and pushed harder until he was fully inside the woman. He rhymically thrust in and out, grabbing her hips to better control the flow. Looking down he was amazed by the movement of her behind, matching his pace to the jiggle of her ass. For a moment he wondered if Morn’s ass would get like this in a few decades. He got more excited, moving his hand to grip at her rump. His fingers easily sank into the soft flesh. He moved faster, feeling his excitement build.
“I'm getting close.” The dragon grunted out.
“The jar, finish in the jar!” Dura cried out.
Cyrus had to think for a moment, his higher brain functions running low pleasure ran wild. It finally registered and he pulled out just in time as he felt his climax approaching. He scooped up the container and aimed as best he could.
He was pleased that he managed to get most of it inside the jar.
“No way those fat dragon nuts are empty already.” Dura teased. She wiggled her ass. “You can keep going, right?”
Cyrus let out a deep breath. “I'm still worn out and sore from yesterday night. Me and Morn had sex and she took a lot out of me. Not to mention she insisted on orcish birth control.”
Dura groaned as she stood herself up. “The fact you can get it up at all after Morn’s overzealous birth control is amazing. But if you are sore I got just the thing for both of us.”
She scooped up the cum jar and carried it to a table. She eyed the contents, her mind calculating the mixture she would need. She set to work, moving through the hut to gather ingredients to add to the jar. Cyrus watched her work, enjoying every jiggle her body produced as she moved. He thought to offer his help, but stopped when he realized he had no knowledge of potions.
The shaman worked for several minutes, adding new ingredients and mixing them together. After some time she held up the jar, an eager smile on her face. Cyrus gazed inside, his spunk had been mixed into a pure white paste.
“Are we going to drink that?” He asked.
“No, it's body paint. It will promote the body’s flow of energy. When applied in the correct pattern it will dispel any fatigue and make you feel like a youngin again. I use this pattern every morning to help get me motivated, but I never had to paint this strong before. I'm excited.”
Cyrus took the jar. “I don't know the pattern you need.”
Dura gestured to herself, pointing out the faded and sweat smeared paint on her body. “Just go over the old markings as you see them, use your finger.”
Cyrus nodded, reaching a finger into the jar and scooping the material out. It tingles his digit as he did so. He stared at her arm, moving to cover up the old markings. As he moved across her body he could see that the markings formed a stylized skeletal pattern. He then moved on to the woman's legs, drawing lines across the front of her legs and then to her back. He felt some markings on her body, reasoning they were scars from long ago battles. Her skin was supple and soft and he could have spent hours exploring every inch of her. He moved her behind, drawing the lines on the back of her legs. When he was finished moved a hand to her ass, cupping one cheek and giving it a solid squeeze. He hefted it up, noting with no small delight that her butt was heavy.
“I don't think I need any pattern back there.” Dura said as she looked back with a smile.
“An honest mistake.” The dragon said, feeling her up for a moment more before letting go. He walked around and looked her in the face. He scooped more of the pain on his finger and began to cover the skull paint she already had. He bit his lip, the knowledge he was smearing his own semen on the woman’s face filled him with a taboo delight. With his work complete he stepped back. Dura hopped on the balls of her feet for a moment, energy flowing through her.
“That's the good stuff!” She declared eagerly. She took up the jar and began to run her finger across the dragon. His soft hand ran across the hard scales, the white lines a sharp contrast to his black hide.
“Thinking about it. Morn is like a daughter to me.” Dura stated idoly . “So it's almost like I’m your grandmother.”
Cyrus let out a low growl of delight, the idea of such a taboo rekindling his lust.
“I had a feeling you’d like that.” Dura said with a smile. She didn't take her eyes off her work, applying the paint with precision. She had to make Cyrus lower to one knee so she could paint on his face. “You really are such a naughty dragon.”
“The worst.” Cryus admitted. When the painting was complete he stood up. His body tingled for a moment. He shivered as energy flowed through him melting away any soreness in his body. He felt as renewed as if he had stepped out of a hot spring. He felt as energized as if adrenaline shot through him.
“I feel amazing!” He shouted, flexing his muscles. He was amazed by how they popped out. For a moment he wished he had a mirror to admire himself.
“That's why I’m going to get every last drop out of you.” Dura said, quickly putting the jar down as she attacked the dragon with energy unbecoming of her age. Cryus caught her under the legs, which she wrapped around him. Cyrus knew he was strong, but the woman felt almost weightless. Eagerly he guided his dick to her still wet slit, thrusting hard. The shaman wrapped her arms around his back, digging her nails into the thick hide of his back. The scraping sensation only drove the dragon on more.
The two were relentless, hands constantly feeling each other up and never settling on one spot for too long. The two changed position, and Cyrus was fucking her against the main support beam of the hut. It creaked from the abuse, threatening to fall over. Dura didn't even care, the limitless stamina of the paint driving her on. The structure was only saved when she pushed the dragon to his back so she could sit on his fat dick. The dragon reached his hands up to grip her sagging breasts. They were not as perky as they were before but he adored the feeling. He rolled the woman over, moving so he was on top. He knocked over a shelf, letting concoctions hit the ground and shatter. Still neither cared.
Cryus was amazed, no matter how hard he moved he didn't feel any tiredness. His breathing was heavy and he dripped in sweat but never did he slow down his pace. The two continued to roll, too energetic to settle on one exact position, even tearing a hole in the side of the hut and giving the village a show.
“So we kept that pace up for hours. Then, all of a sudden, I just collapsed. All the exhaustion hit me at once.”
Cyrus explained his situation to Pride, telling her way he missed her fight. The two were walking through the woods by themselves.
“Yeah, Elder Dura’s concoctions tend to have some drawbacks. Morn will tell you all about it if you ask her.”
Cyrus slunk his head. “I'm sorry I missed your match.”
Pride swatted her father on the back, causing the dragon to hop in surprise from the force. “Don't worry about it. I didn't make it very far anyway.”
“Still.” Cyrus continued. “I should have been there to see it.”
“Dad.” The half-orc stated very matter of factly. “I've been with Dura before. Her ass is insane. I understand completely.”
“HA!” Cyrus said, cheering up. “You really are my daughter!”
Pride had a sly smile. “Speaking of, I saw you eyeing up my boyfriend. You were pitching a tent almost as big as Dura’s hut when you saw him. You know, if you want to have some fun with him you just need to try some birth control with him. He loves it.”
Cyrus cocked a brow. “Really now?”
“Drives him wild. He can really take a hit, he’s tougher than some of our warriors.”
The two walked deeper into the woods. Pride leaned in and spoke to her father. “You're not too tired now, are you?”
Cyrus reached an arm around his daughter, feeling the rough scales on her shoulder as he brought her closer. “For you? Never.”
“Good, I wanted to get more in touch with my dragon roots.”
With that the two stopped their pace, looking deeply into each other's eyes. Cyrus was proud of his daughter. She had inherited many strong traits from him and her mother. She trained hard and developed into a fine young woman. Cyrus knew that no matter what life path she chose so long as she applied herself he would be proud. Pride leaned in, planting a kiss on her father’s maw. They embraced, running hands across each other's bodies and feeling one another. Cyrus enjoyed the exotic feeling of Pride, eagerly feeling the areas where scale transitioned to skin. Pride felt delighted touching the hard scales of a full blooded dragon.
Pride stopped her kissing when she felt something poking at her stomach. She let out a gasp seeing the dragon’s fully erect penis. “It's even bigger than I thought it’d be.”
Cryus flinched for a moment. “Do you want to do some birth control?”
“Nah, I'd rather skip to the fun part.”
Cyrus sighed in relief, she was his daughter.
Pride bit her lip. “Maybe next time though.”
Cyrus gulped. She was Morn’s daughter as well.
“I do have a surprise for you, dad. I knew you were coming so I grew out my hair. Dura’s magic helped too.” The hybrid undid her her high waisted loincloth and let it fall to the ground. The dragon’s eyes widened as he saw that every inch of her crotch and up to her navel was covered in thigh black curly hair.
Pride smiled, laying down on her back and spreading her legs. “I take it you like?”
The dragon could only dumbly nod, as he got down to her level. He ran the length of his dick across her pubic hair, shuddering at the sensation of every strand gliding across his member. The sensation was intoxicating, especially knowing she had grown it all out just for him.
“I can feel your balls hitting my vagina.” The half dragon moaned.
Cyrus felt how warm her crotch was already, the glistening nectar of her womanhood getting his nuts wet. He couldn't wait any longer and she lowered his dick to enter her. She was tight and she let out a loud gasp when it first went in. She still wrapped her legs around his waist, letting him know she enjoyed it all. He kept pushing until he was all the way in, seeing with delight her abdomen extending a bit to accommodate his girth.
“Fuck, are all dragon’s this big?” She asked, running fingers through her hair.
“I should take you to a dragon village so you can see for yourself.” The dragon said, picking up his pace. The two kept this up, the loud plapping sound echoing through the woods. This was masked by the mutual grunts and moans of both. Pride was feeling very naughty, and she cupped her breasts to enhance her sensation. She looked up at her father, expecting a lusty glance or dirty talk. Instead she found him looking at her with an almost blank expression.
“Everything all right?” She asked.
“It's just” he paused for a moment. “You're so beautiful. I love you.”
Pride was dumbfounded by his words for a moment. She reached up and squeezed her father tight in a bear hug. “I love you too, daddy.”
Cyrus kept thrusting faster than before. He wrapped his arms around her, bringing her as close to him as possible and feeling as much skin as he could. With a final push his overworked balls clenched and he shot a hot load into Pride. She gasped, never having been filled up as much as right now. The dragon left it in for a moment, enjoying the feeling before pulling out.
Pride stayed on her back, her vagina leaking white fluid. Cyrus rolled over and lay beside her, looking at the sun through the treetops.
“Why’d you have to go and be sweet? Morn talked about you like you were a letch.” The half-dragon teased. “Next time fuck me like a cheap whore. Go crazy.”
Cyrus let out a hardy laugh. “I am just a softy at heart. But, if that's what you want, that's what you'll get.”
After the conclusion of the tournament the tribe was able to enjoy the feast Cyrus had brought. Dura was able to easily out drink anyone else in the village, and Pride was happily chowing down on a chimera steak. At the height of the celebration the half dragon got everyone's attention and declared her intentions to marry Snak. He enthusiastically accepted and the two hugged. Cryus followed, scooping both up in his arms and lifting both off their feet. He promised he would do his part to give the two whatever dream wedding they wanted.
