Ravensblood Forest oh, you are the roots that sleep beneath my feet and hold the earth in place [m]

The raven-hued brute did as she commanded, closed his eyes and released a long, drawn breath. The quicksilver woman rounded Dakarai’s chest and subsequently freed him from her ardent meanderings.  Her ivy gaze [saturated with yearning and fervor] fell upon her lover and drifted over his features - his regal head, his expansive chest, his bold, elongated tail. As her gaze passed over hindquarters, Olive noted his excitement and she was pleased, glad that her simple pleasure could deliver his own.

As she looked upon Dakarai, the familiar sensibilities of affection and trust began to flutter within her hear - but it was different this time. Olive scarcely could put a name to it. It drove her to be with this man not only spiritually, but physically. Bodily pleasure was new to the maiden, as most of her life’s indulgences stemmed from her intangible inclinations. Moreso, the love she felt flowed inhibited within her body and pooled right… there. That delicate part of her body; the beneficiary of Dakarai’s libidinous tongue. 

Just when the fae thought she had felt all the good things in the world [love being the first and foremost], he went ahead and presented her with an assortment of all new, dark sensations. Lust was funny, especially to Olive [who had relatively no experience with this sort of consciousness]. It was all consuming and Olive delighted in it.

In truth, Olive had no plan after Dakarai closed his eyes. The femme was not the skilled seductresses of legend, the ones whose skills were legend and were actively sought by wandering men. But Dakarai was her muse and she let her libido guide her every action - for this was a dance choreographed at the very dawn of time, and her body knew what to do.

Olive ensnared his body within her own and circled him once more with heavy, viscous movements.  Again, she pressed every part of her being into his; she twirled around him as her tail probed the crevices of his body that she could not, herself, reach. Every so often she would lightly nip at his coat, as if  to leave a trail of breadcrumbs in order to find her way home. Every part of her own body was so heightened, so aware, that even  the sensation of her teeth combing through his fur sent shivers down her spine. 

She pirouetted around him and dipped underneath him, taking advantage of her small stature. As the sylph hovered low to the ground and snaked between his legs, she purposefully dragged herself [ ever so s l o w l y ] against the curvature of his belly and groin [ quite selfishly wishing to feel his hardness].  As Olive resurfaced on the other side of his body and rounded around his chest again, she rested the nape of her tail underneath his muzzle and awaited his reaction.