Two Eyes Cenote [cp] [m] hunger of the pine,

[maturę] shield your eyes everyone!!!! [/mature] 
she was a Goddess, though she was the one in thrall; she could not remove her eyes from him, and through thick lashes she observed, pining. this deep and primal ache filled her, and she was pliant and yielding, unquestioning as she shifted one leg as he parted them in quiet permission, in acceptance. Toula did not know she breathed differently now, that what came from her lips was breathy and shallow, and then, and then! 
Toula knew nothing like this. all of her favored foods, songs, dances—they were but a dull amber in the shade of gold he created with each artful stroke of his tongue. she could suddenly not be still—such pleasure! she did not know that she said, Gods, yes, I love this, or oh! or any same-such thing... and there was desire to push away and pull him nearer in equal measure, as her leg seemed to shift even further. she was coming close to something, so close, what was it?
yes, he was an architect with that Godly tongue, building this nameless thing within her, building what he had begun to build perhaps the moment he had created that first letter with that same t—
ah! his tongue was gone too soon, but against her lips then, which she did not mind, but where before she hungered now she felt starved. Toula looked up to him, felt that gentle and guiding paw and muzzle that insisted she move, and so she did, because this was all very new to her, and though it had just begun, she never, ever wanted it to end.
each other touch and ministration continued the master architects work. she was outside of herself, and yet within, feeling everything, everything. there were no words, and no thinking outside of the feelings he invoked. more, more, and she did not want it but needed it, 
but when he pressed against her that first time, ready as she was, Toula felt the breath leave her for the startling and shocking pain! for a beat, she went rigid... there was clarity in this shock, a wash of cold water, but only for the voice of @Eset, who had prepared her for this eventuality, to be heard saying something to the effect of... this was normal, and natural, and not an effort to hurt or harm her. the pliant earth must accept the gardeners sometimes brutal claws in the building of something better, and now she saw that she was earth,
sense was lost again to sensation. for now, things were beginning to feel... better, and she softened beneath him once more, sighing breathily, unwittingly loosening some encouraging noise, once more wanting more, needing it.