The Sunspire a poetic retelling of an unfortunate seduction

She needed him faster, stronger, harder — and he obeyed each of her whims as quickly as they came to her mind. Gone were the tender, loving sexual explorations of yesteryear. They had been tossed aside in favor of these two licentious beasts, tearing at each other! Oh, there was still love in the act, but it had morphed into something entirely knew. The partners knew what they wanted and were unafraid to ask for it; to take it from the other as if it were their god-given right to do so. Every time that their hips met in that passionate coital embrace, it was as if he discovered a new part of her [both literally and metaphorically]. Olive knew just how good her body could feel and she wanted it more than she had ever wanted anything in the world. To just be there, with Dakarai, not a simple problem in the world. Just love. Just bliss. Just this crazy passion between the two; that kind of passion that seemed as if it would never die. Riding upon his strong, masculine energies her soul climbed and climbed, pulled along by the desire for release [but mostly, his release]. There was something standing just inches past her edge and calling her farther away from herself and closer to apogee — but at that moment, she couldn’t quite see what that thing was. 

Suddenly, her body began to pulse and her muscles pulled taut; she felt the strong urge to howl her ecstasy to the wind; to offer the sounds to the mountain as if to say do you see what magic you’ve created? But as she pursed her lips no noise would come out; her voice had been so ceremoniously thieved from her and a guttural whimper took its place. Her most primal of instincts had been mitigated [for now] and there was no feeling in the world quite like it.

Their passions tempered and the two slowed to a halt, but he was stuck, intertwined with her very being. What had first been such an unexpected part of lovemaking was now the most welcome; for Olive knew enough of her own biology to understand that it was vital to pup-making. So the woman shifted her body and enjoyed his nearness; sweat slicked her fine fur against her body and gave her a chill, so she luxuriated in Dakarai’s warmth. Olive sighed audibly, her sides heaving in a fulfilled, grateful sort of manner.  “What do you think they’ll be like?” she asked eagerly, seemingly not tired [perhaps even more energized] from their coupling and unable to hide her baby fever.