9 comments/ 13685 views/ 54 favorites The Virgin and the Dragon By: entwined_tails At first there seemed to be nothing in the cave but an impenetrable gloom, but then she saw the eyes: bright golden yellow eyes like two lanterns shining in the darkness. And then the dragon moved forwards into the light, his talons clicking on the rock floor, his huge, lean but powerful body with its glittering armour of blood-red scales seeming to materialise out of the night. He stopped when his head was a mere foot away from her own, looming over her, his eyes staring relentlessly into her own. "How dare you come here? Do you not know what I do to humans who trespass in my lair?" His voice was as deep and rumbling as an avalanche, and when he spoke he revealed a mouthful of nightmarishly sharp fangs. Her heart pounding unbearably in her chest, she had to summon every scrap of her resolve to stand tall and proud and to answer him in the clearest, calmest voice she could find within her. "No. I don't know. But that's what I'm here to find out." He made a strange sound - a deep throbbing rumble from the back of his throat - and she realised he was laughing at her. "Find out? You will find out, little human, I can promise you that. But first I'll tell you. I'm going to devour you. Piece by little piece." And suddenly he shot forwards like an uncoiling spring, and in an instant she found his huge paws pinning her to the cold rock floor, their claws pressing uncomfortably through her thin dress. His evil, beautiful yellow eyes leered down at her with contempt. Closing her eyes, she stifled a moan as his snakelike tongue rasped wetly across the exposed skin at the open neck of her dress, tasting her. "Yes, you'll make a most sumptuous meal. Most sumptuous indeed." "Wait!" she gasped. "Before you eat me, there's something you might like to know. Did I mention that I'm a virgin?" "A virgin?" At once a change came over the dragon. His breath seemed to burn even hotter, his yellow eyes flicked lecherously over her pinned body and his tongue slid over his teeth in ravenous anticipation. "Well, that changes everything. I like a virgin. Such a shame you're not going to be one for very long." She wanted this. She'd craved this, yearned for this, for years. "That's it, dragon," she said quaveringly, "go on. Everything you see is yours. Take me. A hundred times over if you want to." As his eyes licked over her hungrily, she raised a hand to stroke the glittering red scales of his neck encouragingly. "That's why I came here. To give myself to you..." "Miss?" Rhian was roused from her dream by a hand shaking her shoulder. She looked up in confusion before the elements of the scene pieced themselves together: the train carriage, the conductor, and the sodden countryside slipping past the window. "Sorry to wake you, miss, but your stop's coming up." Rhian nodded a bleary thanks and forced herself to wake up fully. Three minutes later she was standing alone on the platform of the little request stop, watching the train screech sluggishly away up the track. The station was little more than a single platform put in where a lonely country road crossed the line. There were no buildings, no traffic and no people - just the stark hills crowding oppressively in every direction. There wasn't even a bench - she was forced to perch on the platform's edge while she waited for the bus, clutching the bag containing her sketchbook and other effects, shivering in the unseasonal cold. Closing her eyes to the world, she tried to remember the dream. The details were slipping away from her now, but it didn't matter - she'd had many dreams like it before, and although they differed in particulars they all shared two common elements: the virgin and the dragon. Rhian was a virgin. It was a status she'd held onto well into adulthood and, she considered, well past the point when it had become embarrassing. But all that was going to end. Tonight. She was going to lose her virginity and she was going to do so in the most dramatic way imaginable. The bus, when it arrived, was empty; the driver, a thin man with unkempt grey hair and beard, looked surprised to have a passenger. Rhian bought her fare and sat at the very back, a subtle way of telling him she didn't want a conversation. It didn't work. "Come up on the Shrewsbury train, did you love?" "Yes." The curt answer didn't invite any further questions, but he carried on anyway. "Don't think I've seen you round here before. What brings you out to Cysgod-y-ddraig?" "Hillwalking," she answered bluntly. It was technically true, even if it missed the point entirely. "What, out in this weather? Dressed like that? You'll catch your death!" She sighed and looked down at the thin white dress she was wearing. It wasn't the sort of thing she'd usually choose, but it seemed somehow appropriate. Virginal. It being supposedly summer, she'd thought she'd get away with it, but hadn't counted on the Welsh weather, which now streamed by cold and increasingly wet outside the window. When the driver didn't get a reply he spoke again, this time his voice heavy with what sounded like genuine concern. "Look love, it's none of my business, I'm sure. But just watch out, alright? You do know there's a dragon in these hills, don't you?" Rhian smiled to herself. "Oh yes. Don't worry about me, I know all about him." * * * She was perhaps two thirds of the way up the hillside when she saw him for the first time. So cold was she, and so wet, with her dress clinging soaked and useless to her skin, that she almost missed him. Her eyes were fixed rigidly on the path beneath her feet, trying not to slip again in the mud, and it was only by chance that she glanced up to see the dark shape silhouetted against the grey evening sky: huge outspread wings cutting effortlessly through the waterlogged air, a long tail sweeping out behind. Dragon. Humanity's nightmares embodied in flesh, a creature of power, rage, lust, and calculating malice. But for her, a creature of dreams instead of nightmares. Although she only saw him for a brief moment before he disappeared into the mouth of his cave some way above, the sight had a profound effect on her. Until that moment what she was doing seemed somehow unreal. But seeing the dragon in the flesh made it come home to her. You're climbing to a dragon's lair to offer yourself to him, she told herself. You're going to walk in there and expect him to fuck you, because that's what dragons do to virgin girls, right? But what if he's hungry, and decides to eat you instead? What if you don't survive a dragon's attentions? If you go through with this, you could die tonight. She faced a moment of cringing doubt, shivering on the windswept hillside. But then she remembered the longing, the craving obsession which she'd carried within her half her life. If she didn't do this now, she never would. She'd carry that longing within her the rest of her days and her most desperate fantasy would remain always just that: a fantasy. Yes it was obscenely dangerous, but if she turned back towards home she knew she'd always regret it. Shaking from more than just the cold, she trudged on up the narrow path, closer and closer to the dragon's lair. * * * The light was fading behind her as she stood in the mouth of the cave, dripping and shaking, clutching her little bag. The tunnel branched off in two directions, both leading into darkness, but from one echoed a low crunching sound. Cautiously, her heart racing, she edged into the dark passage, her fingers tracing the rough but dry rock of the wall. The sound grew louder. She stopped and waited, silently, letting her eyes adjust to the dim light. The dragon sat a little way in front of her, with his back turned. He was big, but perhaps not as big as she'd expected, being about half as big again as a man, if you didn't count his long tail and the great leathery wings folded behind his back. He sat apparently gnawing on the bones of some animal. At first she could see him only as a blacker outline in the darkness, but as her eyes grew more sensitive she could make out the row of sharp spines running down his back, and the curving black horns jutting from the back of his head. She cleared her throat nervously. Suddenly the crunching stopped, and a pair of inhuman golden yellow eyes swung round to stare at her, reflecting the light from the mouth of the cave and looking like two lanterns shining in the darkness. For a few seconds neither of them moved. She didn't even breathe. Then the dragon, without taking his eyes from her once, rose slowly to his feet - four great paws - and walked slowly towards her, talons clicking on the rock floor. As he drew further into the light she saw that his scales were a deep red, so deep as to be almost black. He stopped with his head a mere foot away from hers, and after regarding her for a few moments more spoke in a deep, rumbling voice that seemed to resonate with the cave walls. "Can I help you?" Rhian faltered, unable to quite believe that she was actually there, that the object of her deepest desire for so many years was standing right in front of her, close enough to touch. She fumbled for words. "Um... hello. I... I'm... I mean... ah..." The dragon stared at her impassively, waiting for her to finish. She tried to pull herself together, took a deep breath and fumbled for the right words. What did the girls in her dreams say in this situation? "I... am a virgin." There. She'd said it. Not quite how she'd meant for the words to come out, but it was out. He carried on staring down at her. She stared back, shaking with nerves, trying to read his intention in his eyes. Was this it? Would he take her now? Here, in this passageway? But he didn't look lust-filled or predatory. He just looked... slightly amused. "That's a bit of a personal thing to tell me, isn't it? Do you tell that to everyone you meet?" She shook her head numbly. Somehow, this wasn't going at all the way she'd always imagined it. The dragon carried on talking, two rows of viciously sharp white fangs glinting from his mouth. "I mean, usually, you start with your name, then a bit of small talk, perhaps chat about your interests for a bit and then, only when you get to know the person really quite well, do you mention your sexual history. You went straight for it as an opener. Bold. But I'm a more traditional dragon, and I prefer to start with names. What's yours?" "Rhian." "Ah, there we are, and a most beautiful name for a most beautiful woman. My name is Iorwerth. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Rhian the virgin. Now. What are you doing in my cave?" She felt stupid. In all the ways she'd imagined this scene, she'd never once considered that the dragon might behave like... well, like a person. But she wasn't going to give up just yet. He might just be toying with her, after all, as she believed dragons were wont to do. Perhaps if she asked him outright? "Look, um, Iorwerth, to be honest, I came here to, you know... give myself to you." "Give yourself to me?" He gave her a look of apparently honest incomprehension. "And whatever would I want you for?" "To... you know... have your way with me. With my body." Something in his face told her that he now understood - or had stopped pretending not to. She let out a tense breath she'd been holding in. "Ah, so you want me to fuck you? Well, that would explain why you were so keen for me to know you were a virgin. Because of course, everybody knows that we dragons love to deflower young maidens. Right before we fly out to burn villages, steal livestock and poison the countryside, hmm?" "I don't know about anything about any of those other things, or much care. I just came for the deflowering, then I'll be out of your way. Come on Iorwerth, I'm offering myself to you, no conditions attached. So please. Will you have me?" He laughed - a deep, booming laugh that seemed to shake through the rock walls. "No, Rhian, I'm not going to sleep with you. I'm flattered, truly I am, but I don't really know you, and you're not even of my species. Sorry to disappoint. Was there anything else I can help you with?" She shook her head, feeling a fool. Why had she assumed it would be so easy? The dragons that filled her dreams, the dragons in stories, the dragons people had warned her about for years, would never have passed by an opportunity like this. A horrible thought dawned: she might never, ever be able to get what she craved. No dragon would ever be interested in her, and she'd remain forever unfulfilled. She sighed, and turned back towards the cave mouth, her mud-streaked dress still dripping onto the floor as she walked. Outside, the light was almost gone and the rain was falling harder than ever. It could have been worse, she reflected as she stepped out into the cold and wet and wind. At least I'm alive. It's something. "Hold on!" She stopped at the sound of his voice. The dragon had stayed motionless, watching her leave. "Do you not have a coat? Or a torch? Or a dry change of clothes?" She shook her head, reflecting morosely how poorly she'd prepared for this adventure. "Then I cannot possibly ask you to leave. You have my reluctant welcome to stay here with me, until the weather clears in the morning, on one small condition." She spun to face him. "What's the condition?" "The condition is simply this: I'm asking you to stay here simply for shelter, and not for sex. So I'd like you to promise me you won't try anything, shall we say, inappropriate." "Of course! I promise. Thank you, Iorwerth, thank you so much!" She smiled to herself. She'd never been one to stick to promises. A whole night to turn the dragon around - perhaps, if she handled things right, she could get what she came for after all. * * * It was pitch black. The dragon had led her into a chamber with a soft earthen floor. His bedroom? She shivered. Iorwerth had let her strip out of her sodden dress and shoes, and she sat in only her bra and pants - she'd been about to remove those too but he'd intervened, apparently not trusting her completely naked around him. Or possibly, she hoped, not trusting himself. The air was cold - too cold to sit around nearly naked for long. She could hear the dragon rustling with something in front of her, and wondered what he was doing. Her answer came when a brilliant jet of flame intruded suddenly into the darkness, momentarily blinding her. "Fire! Splendid thing! Quite useless to me of course; I can see perfectly in the dark and don't feel the cold. But I thought you might appreciate a little light and warmth." She did, and huddled close to the flame. He'd piled dry wood and leaves against the cave wall and set light to it, the smoke rising through a natural chimney in the rock. Her clothes and bag had been thoughtfully spread next to it to dry. As she warmed her hands, she appreciated the way the flame reflected from the dragon's scaled skin, making him seem to shimmer with red-orange light. "I hope you find my bed to your satisfaction. It's a simple thing, but I find it to be really quite comfortable." He lay himself down on the earthen floor a little behind her, curled on his side, facing the fire. It seemed as good a moment as any to begin her carefully crafted plan. She'd worked out the details in her head while he'd been sorting out the fire, and she thought it stood a fair chance of getting her what she wanted if she stepped very, very carefully. Rummaging in her little bag she pulled out her sketchbook, still mercifully dry inside its plastic bag, and a pencil, before walking over to where the dragon lay. "Iorwerth, do you mind if I snuggle up next to you?" He let out an exasperated sigh. "Rhian, do you not recall the one thing I asked you to promise before I let you stay the night?" She gave him a calculated look of surprised indignation. "Now who's got sex on the brain? I'm not suggesting we get it off, I just want to sit down beside you for a bit. Even with that fire it's still pretty cold in here, and you'd keep me warm." He looked unconvinced. She waved her sketchbook. "I'd like to do a little drawing and talk to you for a while before I go to sleep. No hidden agenda. How does that sound?" "Well... alright. I'd like to watch you draw. Come sit down here." She took a seat between his front and rear legs, her back pressed against his pleasingly soft scaled belly, delighted at getting through the first delicate step in her plan. He felt deliciously warm against her skin, and she had to suppress the desire to run her hands all over his scales; instead, true to her word, she flicked her sketchbook open to the first blank page and began to draw. She was highly conscious of the dragon's eyes watching as she traced in the rough outlines of the picture, until he caught on to what was taking shape. "Why I do believe you're drawing me!" There was a purring rumble in his voice which gave her the impression that he wasn't at all displeased. "I'm drawing both of us, actually. As we're sitting now, so try not to move." He watched her pencil in the long, curving sweep of his tail. "Rhian, if you'll forgive a rather personal question, why are you so eager to have sex with a dragon?" She couldn't believe her luck. Getting him talking about sex was the next stage in the plan, and he was doing it without prompting! "Because you're beautiful." She worked on drawing his wings, trying to capture the way the majestic folds caught the light. "You're elegant and powerful and frankly just gorgeous. I mean, look at you!" She started on the broad sweep of his neck. "Humans never did it for me, I suppose I'm just abnormal. I wish I wasn't. You know, I wish I could see a man and feel attracted to him, even if it was just a little bit, just enough to have a normal relationship. But I can't. There's nothing there." She filled in his head, sketching the dark curves of his horns, paying extra attention to the gleam in his eyes, to his long tongue poking from between deadly white fangs. "But when I look at you... suddenly I want you to run your tongue all over my body." She felt the dragon tense and added quickly, "not that I'm asking you to. I promised, didn't I? I'm just telling you how I feel." Iorwerth didn't reply so she carried on drawing, putting herself into the picture as she sat, leaning contentedly against the dragon's belly, sketchbook in one hand. "Iorwerth, as I'm not getting to sleep with you - and I've come to accept that now - will you at least answer me one question? What's it like to have sex with a dragon?" There was a slightly cumbersome silence before he answered. "Well, ah, the truth is, Rhian, I'm afraid that I'm in no position to answer that. You see, I don't know." Her pencil paused. "You're a virgin!" She hadn't expected that. "Yes, yes I am. There, now there's a thing we both know about each other." He sounded embarrassed. "I suppose in some ways we aren't so very different, you and I. You see, dragons never..." Suddenly he stopped, and tried to change the subject. "You're a most talented artist, Rhian. But I'm afraid your portrait flatters me, while failing to adequately capture your own beauty." She was busy filling in details of light and shade, and wasn't about to be drawn into a safe artistic debate. "You asked me why I want to have sex with a dragon, and I told you. Now here's a question back at you. Why do you want to have sex with a human?" She felt him twitch in surprise, but she didn't stop drawing. It was a risk, but she was pretty sure she was right. Ever since she'd seen him watch her undress out of the corner of her eye, she'd suspected. When she'd sat against his belly and felt his heartbeat rise in response, it had simply given her confirmation. Now she had him. He had to answer the question, or lie and deny it. The Virgin and the Dragon "You're certainly a most perceptive young woman. How you picked up on that, I will never guess. Dragons, Rhian, are scaly, ugly and cumbersome creatures. What it is you see in us I can barely comprehend. Humans, however! Soft, sensitive... curvaceous... perfect. I'm telling you this because you told me your side, please don't imagine that it changes anything. I admit it: I find you attractive. But I'm still not going to sleep with you. We are two very different creatures who should not let ourselves mingle at an unnatural level, even if we should both desire it. It would be a mistake we would both come to regret." Rhian wasn't at all concerned by this rejection. Things were going far better than her plan had anticipated at this point, and she still had several moves in reserve. And she reflected that he was as ready as he'd ever be for the next one. Moving her pencil to between where she had drawn the dragon's back legs, she sketched in the strong, straight outline of a member standing at eager attention. Iorwerth shifted uneasily. "I'm afraid your portrait is beginning to diverge from reality into personal fantasy." "I'd say that was up to you." She drew in her own arm, with its hand resting lightly on the cock's head, signed the page and handed the book to the dragon. "What do you think?" "I think you have a vivid imagination and a talented hand." "Oh yes. Very talented." She grinned devilishly. "I meant at drawing!" he snapped. "Rhian, if this is supposed to be some kind of offer, then I'm flattered, but I'm afraid my attitude remains unchanged." But his golden eyes stayed fixed on the page, as though they couldn't tear themselves away. "I've got lots of other drawings in there, if you want to have a look." He turned back a page with a claw, and his eyes widened. Another page, and they widened even further. "Well, you certainly stick to a theme." He flicked through some more pages, hurrying past some, lingering over others. "Are these dragons all supposed to be me?" "They can all be you if you want them to be." She laid a hand on his hip and let it slide over the rough skin, the glossy scales feeling warm under her fingers. Iorwerth seemed too absorbed in her sketchbook to react. At last he finished flicking backwards through the book, and remained staring at the very first page as though he couldn't bear to close it. "These are some very creative and... ah... not entirely unappealing ideas. But..." "But nothing. It's what I want, and I'm pretty sure it's what you want, so what's stopping us?" The dragon gestured at the page with a clawed paw. "Rhian, this isn't going to happen. Forget about it." Her hand slipped backwards and forwards across his hip. She couldn't get enough of the warm rasp of his scales under her fingers. "I'm not suggesting we do a page one, Iorwerth. All I'm suggesting is a little page seventy-eight." With a hungry curiosity he didn't quite manage to hide, he flicked back to page seventy-eight: the picture Rhian had just drawn in front of him. "Look," she said, "I'm not sure what's holding you back here. Is it pride? Is it shameful for a dragon to have sex with a human? Well, nobody but me and you need ever know. Or, are you just afraid you might enjoy yourself too much and lose control?" He didn't reply, just carried on staring at the page. She glanced between his hind legs. A thin slit in the red-black scales marked the line of his sheath, still stubbornly holding its much-anticipated prize out of sight. Cautiously she reached over a hand to touch it. The dragon stiffened and grunted in surprise, but to her relief didn't ask her to remove her hand. He'd been silent for some time, just gazing at the page as though lost in internal conflict. At last he said, quietly, "well, I certainly look like I'm enjoying myself here..." She grinned. She'd won. "Of course you will. Just let it out and I'll show you exactly how much fun a girl and a dragon can have together." She traced a finger teasingly around his sheath, willing him out. At such a slight touch the great dragon shuddered with pleasure, and she imagined she felt a pressure as though something were trying to burst free but being held back. Why was he still withholding himself? She knew he longed for it. And then, noticing the way his whole body trembled, she guessed the truth. He was scared! It was his first time, and he was almost paralysed with nerves! He put the sketchbook to one side and watched her stroking him. "If I let it out, will you be gentle with me?" She somehow managed not to laugh - the thought of the huge fire-breathing razor-clawed dragon being worried about her not being gentle was almost too much. "Of course I will," she lied, putting on her best soothing voice. "We'll go nice and slow, enjoy ourselves, no pressure at all. It's my first time too, remember. And if you feel the least bit uncomfortable, just say the word and we'll stop." Her fingers continued with their relentless caress of his sheath. Iorwerth hesitated for only a few more moments more before making a decision. "Sometimes a dragon has to follow his feelings, and when you touch me there... it feels incredible. To be completely honest, I've been holding it in ever since you first sat down beside me. Alright..." He took a deep breath, and she felt the tension behind his scales relax. A moment later he eased out into her hand. The first thing she noticed was that it was big. She couldn't quite close her fingers around it, and there was well over a foot of it in length. The second thing she noticed, somewhat to her relief, was that it was not clad in scales - it was smooth and pink, and it felt wet and slippery to the touch, as though it came pre-lubricated. "A disappointment to your high expectations I'm sure, Rhian, but I'm afraid it's the only one I have to offer." Having made the big step, some of his earlier self-confidence seemed to have returned. "No Iorwerth, it's perfect," she said as she ran her eyes ravenously along the straight, magnificent shaft. "Everything I'd hoped for and more." For a moment he looked relieved, then as she ran her fingers along its length he closed his eyes and let loose a deep growl of pleasure. Rhian looked down at the cock in her hand and the huge, beautiful creature lying next to her. Finally, she was where she'd always longed to be - nestled up next to a dragon, with his privatemost self clasped in her hand. She could scarcely believe it. As though to convince herself that it was real, she let her fingers flow over the sticky surface, feeling the strong thick rigidity of the base and then moving up to the smooth bulging rounded tip, refreshingly solid and seeping copiously. Iorwerth rumbled in appreciation. So she had his cock in her hands - a cock no hands had ever touched before. She felt honoured, but what to do with it? Her mind sieved through tempting ideas. She could lean in and take him in her mouth, sucking on him until he exploded into her. Or she could slip down her soaked pants and push herself onto him, feeling him slide slowly inside her... No. She might just scare him off if she tried to go further than he was expecting at what was still a tender moment. If things went as she hoped, there'd be time for all those things later; but for now, she'd promised him a page seventy-eight. And she was going to give him the best page seventy-eight any dragon had ever had. Kneeling beside him, she wrapped both hands around his shaft - one near the tip, one near the base. A penis that size seemed to demand a two-handed grip. And she began, pumping him slowly up and down, relishing the slick sliding motion and slight wet slipping sounds that accompanied the movement. She was unsure at first if she was doing it right, but the dragon's reaction soon reassured her - he purred, a deep rumbling earthquake of a sound, and his body stirred expressively, scales winking in the firelight. "Rhian," he groaned between increasingly deep breaths, "I was right when I said you had talented hands. You're... taking me to another world here." "What, already? This is just the warm-up. I haven't even started yet!" He stared at her with his big golden eyes and she picked up the pace, working him vigorously in deeper beats, sending a shudder rippling down his body. Without another word he looped a great forepaw around her shoulders, stroking her in an encouraging way as she pleasured him. She paused, just for a moment, freeing her hands to rub his belly fondly in return. "Oh please, don't stop, I can't bear you to stop now." "Don't worry, I'm not going to stop." She leant forward to lightly kiss the tip of his cock, feeling it throb as the dragon moaned. "If I stopped, how would I ever know what it's like to have your orgasm spill all over me?" She tightened her grip and resumed pumping him at an energetic rate. More than ever she was impatient to see him climax, to feel him shudder in rapture and to know it was by her own hand. She used her whole body to pump him just as hard as she could, loving the firm heat of him under her fingers, loving the delicious little squelching noise each beat made as her hands slid down over the slippery shaft. "More," he moaned, his eyes flickering shut, "just a little more..." The dragon's paw squeezed tightly on her back as she worked, the claws digging slightly into her skin but never enough to really hurt. His body shook increasingly, and his scaled belly felt warmer and warmer. His cock, even more so, was heating up dramatically, and she worried that if it grew much hotter she might burn her hands. He was obviously nearing the climax she yearned for. Looking up, she saw smoke billowing from the sides of his mouth, as though there were a fire raging within him, a fire he could no longer keep inside. She felt him try to pull her gently out of the way of the imminent eruption but she held her ground, and at the last moment pulled his shaft to point directly into her chest... Fire leapt from his mouth in a single lavish jet of yellow-orange flame, lighting up the whole cave in brilliant light. At the same moment he exploded in her hands, spurting wave after wave of liquid over her breasts, so hot it was almost scalding. Rhian shuddered in her own private ecstasy as he shook and gasped with release. After the last waves of the dragon's climax had passed away, the two stood and regarded one another: Iorwerth, the dragon, panting in the aftershock of orgasm; and Rhian, the woman, in pants and bra, copious amounts of dragon cum dripping down her chest, panting in exhilaration and barely containable arousal. This, she knew, was a sensitive moment. Might the dragon be filled with regret after the first tide of sexual passion had washed away, or would he want more? While he watched, she raised a fingertip to her mouth and sucked it clean of the dragon's seed. It tasted spicy and salty and interesting, tempting her to try more. "Rhian, in my enthusiasm I seem to have allowed myself to make something of a mess all over you. Please, allow me to clean it up." She nodded, wondering if this was a good or a bad sign. As he stepped over to her and demonstrated how he intended to do the cleaning, lapping at her skin with his long red tongue, she sighed in relief as she knew he didn't regret a thing. The forked tongue flicked across her belly; it had a rough texture and rasped when he lapped at her in long, slow motions, but tickled when he let the forked tip flitter against her skin. In next to no time nearly all of his seed had been licked expertly from her skin and swallowed. Her bra was in the way of cleaning the last trickle of liquid which had run between her breasts. "Rhian, would you mind if I...?" "Of course." She scratched the fine scales of his throat tenderly. "You don't need to ask. Whatever you feel like doing, just do it." Nodding, he reached a paw around her back and deftly unhooked the bra strap, his big claws showing surprising nimbleness. Rhian let the bra fall to the floor, unheeded. The dragon gazed hungrily at her exposed chest for only a moment before going straight in with his tongue, slithering divinely into the narrow cleft between her breasts, drinking in the last of his seed. She reached out to grasp the black, curving horns jutting from the back of his head, pulling him to her. "Keep going," she told him. "The only way I'd stop now is if you chained me down and muzzled me." His breath felt hot against her skin. "I think that's page sixty-nine." He leered at her devilishly - already a creature transformed from the one who'd so recently been trembling in fear of his first time - and she kept her grip on his horns as he closed back in on her bosom. This time, his tongue went everywhere - in-between, over, under, round the sides, finally tasting delicately around her hyper-sensitive nipples. "Again! Do that again!" Again he worked his magic on her nipples; she arched her back in delight, having never before realised that the right touch there could be so wildly erogenous, then shivered as she felt his tongue slide irresistibly downwards over her belly. When it reached the elastic of her pants it didn't stop, and she shrieked aloud as it pushed under the material, slithering across her most sensitive region. In an instant she was pulling the unwanted underwear down her legs, kicking it free when it reached her ankles, exposing her to his attentions. Iorwerth fixed a hungry golden stare between her thighs. "Now that is my idea of a pleasing nexus on a woman. Soft, delicate, pleasingly curved, perfectly proportioned, a treasure to the taste, and not a scale in sight. Rhian, you are as beautiful down below as you are up above." Despite herself, she found herself blushing, unsure how she felt about having her "nexus" complimented so expressively. "It's all yours," she said, stroking his head fondly. "Just promise me you won't be gentle with me." He flashed her a toothy grin. "I can assure you I wouldn't even dream of it." And his tongue darted out to lick across her swollen lips. Rhian was no stranger to touching herself down there. But she was discovering for the first time that having somebody else touch her was on a higher level of experience altogether, especially when that person was a stunningly gorgeous dragon, and especially when that dragon had the burning lust of his kind tempered by a natural delicacy and exquisite tenderness: a combination more than compensating for his lack of experience. When he slid his tongue over her responsive flesh it was as though it was pulling directly on the pleasure centres of her brain. The forked tip pushed resolutely between her lips and explored up and down, making her gasp at the new heights of sensation. The dragon rumbled happily. For the first time his touch chanced upon her clitoris, and she cried out as the pleasure cut through her like a knife. In an instant he had pulled out and was looking at her with concern, apparently mistaking her cry of pleasure for a cry of pain. "What's the matter? Is that a bad spot for me to touch?" "No, no," she faltered, "it's a good spot. A very good spot." A look of hungry relief washed across his face and he was straight back in, tormenting her clitoris mercilessly. He kept his big golden eyes gazing up at her face so he could see the way his dotage made her cringe and gasp with unbearable pleasure. The attention was rapidly bringing her towards a climax. Perhaps Iorwerth saw this, or perhaps he merely felt it was time for a change, but either way his tongue suddenly ceased in its torture of her clitoris. Just for a moment she imagined she was going to be given a rest from unbearable ecstasy, but instead he brought his scaled lips closer to press against her sex and shot out his tongue all the way, penetrating her in a single quick motion. "Nnnnnngggghhhuuuuuwwwwoooowwww!" It was the most coherent thing she could find to say. He didn't waste any time. The tongue began flickering deeply in and out of her - all the way, each time - the slightly rough rasping texture caressing her from the inside and driving her wild. No experience in her life had prepared her for anything like this. Within moments she was building to an unstoppable orgasm, consuming her, until she felt herself paralysed by the deluge of ecstatic pleasure flooding from her sex, washing through her whole body in waves. She thought she heard herself crying out wordlessly, but couldn't be sure. As the climax ebbed away, the dragon's tongue slowed down its assault and finally withdrew. It was some time before she recovered herself enough to kiss him softly on the end of his snout. "Rhian," he said, "I want you to know that I took every bit as much enjoyment from pleasuring your body as I did from you pleasuring mine." She flung her arms around his neck, surprising herself. "And me, Iorwerth. They were both incredible. Can we... lie down together?" The dragon resumed his earlier sprawl on the earthen floor, lying on his side with his belly facing invitingly towards her. She nestled down beside him, pressed against his warm scales, appreciating the softness of his belly and his heavy but pleasing scent. His forepaw wrapped around her back, keeping her warm and holding her close. "I'm remembering that I don't really know anything about you," he reflected sadly. "What do you want to know?" She found herself talking about her life. Trains and sandwiches and leaky showers and irksome colleagues and a butterfly that had landed right on her hand during a difficult moment and convinced her that everything might just be alright after all. Big things and little things, all jumbled together in an incoherent but heartfelt stream. The dragon listened to it all, accepting it, never questioning it. As she talked, he combed a claw through her tussled hair, and she stroked his long neck slowly. He didn't seem the least embarrassed about his cock standing proud against her bare legs, and she did nothing to tease it. When she'd exhausted what she had to say he told her about his own life. He spoke in a calm and measured narrative, leading her effortlessly into his world of open skies and dragon conclaves and the gleaming lights of a city seen from half a mile above. But there was also the loneliness, the fear and prejudice of humans and the crack of shotguns at his tail after hunger had driven him to steal livestock. So absorbed was she in his story that it came as a shock when he abruptly returned to the present place and moment. "What did we do together, Rhian? Page seventy-eight and if I'm not mistaken page twenty-one? So much for virginity." She couldn't help but laugh aloud at that, surprising him. "Actually, I think by the more narrow definitions of virginity we still have ours." "Really?" He looked disappointed. "Then I'm afraid we both may be lumbered with the label for some time to come." "What do you mean? We can lose it any time we like. I'm up for it now, and I can feel you are." His cock stirred against her leg in confirmation. "Oh please don't misunderstand me, I do want to, very much so. But I couldn't possibly actually do it. I'm simply too much bigger than a human, surely I'd hurt you?" "No, Iorwerth, I'm pretty sure I can take you." She dropped a hand to clasp around his shaft, feeling its girth. "I'd like to try, anyway. If you do hurt me, I promise I'll let you know straight away and we can stop." "Your promises haven't proved very reliable so far," he growled. "Would you rather I'd kept the last one?" "No, of course not, I'm very glad you didn't." The Virgin and the Dragon "Then how do you feel about page thirty? Or even page fourteen, if you're up for something a little more adventurous." He closed his eyes and thought about it, his cock throbbing as his imagination worked. "Page one," he said at last. There was no question or room for compromise in his voice. "Page one," she agreed. It didn't take much to get into position. She simply rolled over onto her back and the dragon stood over her, his legs either side of her naked body, his great wings spread, his penis poised and ready. Fluid seeped from the tip, and as she lay there a single drop fell onto her thigh, warm and tingling. Rhian gazed up at him. Something was different... her feelings towards him had changed. There was still the burning sexual desire, but there was also something deeper, more personal, more intimate that went beyond mere sex. "Before we do this, Iorwerth, I just want to thank you for giving me more than I came here for." "More? Isn't this exactly what you came here for?" "No. I came to get fucked by a dragon. I never expected to make love to one." He stared down at her for a moment, perhaps as though himself seeing her in a new way, and then leant down to kiss her. Lips nuzzled against scaled lips; she kissed him whole-heartedly and he responded by lapping his tongue amorously over her mouth. "Are you ready to unambiguously lose your virginity?" she asked. "More than I ever thought I could be, thanks to you." She reached up to brush his cock with her fingers. Then, grasping it firmly, she pulled him gently down until its tip rested just within the parted folds of her opening, ready to push deep inside her with a single powerful thrust of his hips. "I'm going to push it in very slowly," he said, "and if you feel even the slightest pain I want you to tell me immediately." She looked down at the thick, slick javelin of flesh ready to spear into her, and up at the red-black scaled bulk of Iorwerth, his golden eyes gazing down at her with a mix of concern and affection and raging lust. She traced a fond finger around the line of his jaw. "You know, I've fantasised about being in this situation a thousand times in different ways. And the reality isn't like any of them. It's better. Push yourself in, Iorwerth. I need to have you inside me." She spread her legs wider as he pushed ever so gently, and then slightly firmer. For a moment she was afraid that his fears had been justified and he wouldn't fit inside her, but then as the dragon pushed a little harder she felt herself yield to him, the head of his cock and several inches sliding fluidly into her. She gasped. She felt so incredibly stretched, but not so far that it hurt - in fact, the tight pressure of his considerable dragonhood partly within her felt incredible. She was desperate for more. "How does it feel, Rhian? I'm not too much for you, I hope?" "No no, you're perfect," she gasped, meaning it in every way. "Please, come in further." Iorwerth pushed, and he eased in a little deeper, making her sigh in blissful satisfaction. "I don't know how much of me you can take, you'll have to tell me when to stop," he said, his voice throbbing with desire. "Further," she whispered, "I'll let you know when I can't take any more." She stared down in fascination as another inch of the dragon disappeared inside her, and then another. The stretched, full sensation of him within her penetrated deeper and deeper, and when it was finally time to say "stop" the sound came out only as a weak wisp of a sound. Looking at the result, she was amazed to see the majority of his prodigious shaft buried within her. There was no more reason to speak. Instead he bent his neck down to kiss her again, his rough tongue slipping in to slide sweetly against her own, filling her mouth with his delicious fiery scent and spicy taste. And with his lips nestled against her lips and his tenderest part nestled deeply within her tenderest part, she felt that there was a moment of perfect connection between them both, such that years of mere words could never have achieved. He started slowly, cautiously, easing himself in and out of her in gradual motions as though probing her capacity, but nevertheless enough to make her sigh in contentment as she felt herself stretch and unstretch around his ample dragonhood. While he worked her he gazed down at her with his great golden eyes, frowning in concentration, apparently studying her face to see what effects his ministrations were having upon her. As he sped up into a steady fuck he lost the studious look. His eyes glazed over in intense personal pleasure and he missed Rhian's open-mouthed stare of ecstasy as his shaft slid sumptuously backwards and forwards between her legs, each thrust feeling deeper and more all-consuming than the last. She stared up at Iorwerth in wonder and disbelief. His dark scales glinted red as his mighty chest heaved above her, his outspread wings trembling. His serpentine neck twisted and writhed expressively, long tongue flickering over slightly parted teeth, golden eyes staring at nothing, overcome by the sensation. Looking down she let her eyes rest on the source of their mutual pleasure: the dragon's powerful hind quarters, one leg firmly planted either side of her hips, grinding relentlessly back and forwards into her, his tail swishing responsively about her ankles. Each stroke drove divinely into her being, each sending her a little closer to the edge. And he never lost his touch; his fucking never lost its precise, brutal delicacy, never degenerated into mere mechanical rutting, never lost its ability to make Rhian shake and silently gasp in a heaven all of her own. He paused and shifted his position, dropping lower and closer, his scaled chest pressed gently against her belly and breasts. She could feel from the building heat of him, both against her skin and deep inside her, that he wasn't far from a climax, and probing her own tightly coiled lust she realised that neither was she. As he resumed his rhythmic thrusting she knew they were both moving into the final, furious phase. Remembering the hot and heavy torrent of his last orgasm, she pictured the same flood pouring into the heart of her and an agreeable shudder rippled down her spine. Iorwerth, as desperate as she to reach the giddy thrill of orgasm, was now fucking her with even more fervour than before. His muscular scaled hips pistoned back and forth faster and more powerfully, holding nothing back, bringing her to a new height of ecstasy as his girthsome cock pulsed rapidly inside her. Gone was his self-control, his restraint, his delicacy, and in its place was pure primal passion, a fierce and animal lust, uncontrollable, uncompromisable, unstoppable. Rhian screamed: a wild, wordless scream of uncontainable rapture that burst out of her and echoed chaotically from the cave walls. She stared up at the dragon, meeting the stare of his golden eyes which were fixed unblinkingly on her own. Again she screamed, and again; using her voice as an urgent vent for the unendurable pleasure he was pumping into her, more and more intense with every moment. And Iorwerth began to growl in harmony, a deep throbbing thunderous sound, their two voices mingling in the air and filling the space around them. Faster he fucked her and faster. She was falling headlong towards a climax but the dragon's scaled skin was feeling hotter and hotter against her own, his pumping shaft almost unbearably warm inside her; his growl had expanded into an expansive and urgent roar, smoke billowing potently from his mouth, and gasping air between screams of joy she wondered desperately who would come first... Iorwerth's roar cut off abruptly. Arching his neck upwards he let a great arc of brilliant flame escape from his mouth, and at the same moment he exploded into her. The sensation of the searing liquid bursting into the core of her, wave after wave, filling her, tipped her over the edge into her own climax. For a moment the world seemed to lose focus, nothing existing except the pure, distilled sensation of her orgasm burning madly around his still spasming cock. The moment seemed to stretch out into a glorious eternity, until at last she found the outside world swimming back into hazy existence; the fire inside her fading, quenched. Iorwerth gazed down at her, panting, and as soon as he'd recaught his breath kissed her tenderly on the lips. She tried to lift her head, to kiss him back, but found that an incredible weariness was saturating her, disabling her and pulling her irresistibly towards sleep. She tried to form words, to explain it, but all she could manage was an indistinct mumble and a silly smile. Vaguely she was aware of the dragon lying himself down beside her. With the very last of her strength she reached out an arm to wrap around the scaled warmth of his body, and let herself sink into a deep and satisfied sleep. * * * The valley looked beautiful in the sunlight. The hills which had seemed dark and brooding the night before now looked green and vivid, inviting her to wander and lose herself amongst them. But already the sun was sinking low in the sky as the summer evening threatened to fade into night. Sitting on the gently sloping grass outside Iorwerth's cave, Rhian smiled to herself as she remembered how she'd spent her afternoon. "You know," she said, "I still have your taste in my mouth from page six." The dragon, sprawled next to her, rumbled pleasantly as he recalled it. Curling himself languidly, he stretched his tail to his mouth and delicately licked it. "And I still have the taste of you on my tail from page fifty-two. Long may it stay there, as a pleasant reminder of a perfect day." "Here, if it's a reminder you're after..." Reaching for her sketchbook, she leafed through, tearing out every drawing they'd enacted from page one to page seventy-eight with quite a lot in-between. The book felt significantly lighter as she handed the loose sheets over to Iorwerth, who glanced through them, nodding happily. "And I suppose you'll have some new works of art for me to ogle next time you come see me?" She smiled. "Lots more. You've given me plenty of inspiration." A wistful look clouded his features. "You really have to go now?" "Yes, I'm sorry, but dreary, normal life beckons. Last train in an hour, and I need to be on it. But I'll be back. As soon as I can." "It would be my honour to give you a lift to the station." "You mean..." she looked at the dragon's great folded wings and grinned. "I'd love that. And while we're in the air together... how do you feel about page sixty-six?" A fire lit up in his eyes at the thought. "Mmm," he growled, "in that case, how do you feel about setting off right now?" "Right now sounds like the best possible time. How do you want me?" He beckoned her over and in a few moments had her arms and legs wrapped securely around the dragon's belly, pressed against his soft underside, one of his great paws clasping her protectively to him. "Comfortable, my beautiful Rhian?" "Supremely, my gorgeous Iorwerth." The dragon unfurled his enormous wings and, with a single downwards beat, lifted them both gently into the air.