Whitebark Stream put your ring back on honey-tits, you haven't had enough porridge this morning (mtr.)

At his words she only hums, lashes heavy as she lets the heavens see the strain of her throat; her ass remained as cinched up against the swath of his hips as tangibly possible, yet she hefted it back into him just as he roughly jostled her all the same. She could feel each drag of him as he rutted inside of her, and she only wrested him deeper; the arch of her spine only arching more. She wanted to work herself towards an unbearable threshold, and with a low, hoarse laugh poked her hips forward despite how his arms gripped them. Her sex kept to him like a vice, regardless of the inch that’d faltered from it. 

Even as piercing rutts that massage her from within, even at his command, she remains all petulant and quiet; feigning unawares even when in the midst of anything but innocence. ”Only i-if you say please,” ‘Kunnhehku’ wisps — the only thing still tethering her to the Below — with daring shiver from her lungs, something a little devilish, too. She pushed herself up on her forepaws then, curving her ivory throat back in an attempt to lave her tongue along the midnight-blue snout, her little teeth flashing with a simper.

But her act at dominance from beneath is so weak, as a wavering moan stutters from her breast as she quivers around his cock and at the new, languorous tempo he furled into her with. All the same, she curved her boney hips with his own, a heady, low groan issuing from her throat as she began to come unraveled; but tried to stave off her own orgasm as she held him as taut as she could. ”S-say please, lord.”