Here we go, Oboro. It’s the dawn of a wonderful day!
Oboro groaned, hooking an arm over her face to shield her eyes from the early dawn sneaking in through the tent flaps. Something was squirming around in her bedding. Something with a face as ornery a musk rat, pigtails like a prize sow, and an ass lesser women would kill not just to have, but to have.
“Selena…” she asked, voice still hoarse from last night’s revelry. “What are you doing?”
She was chilled down to her bones. She must’ve kicked off the covers during the night.
“You.” Selena snickered, adding after a beat: “-a favor, that is.”
Truthfully, she didn’t remember much of last night. Fêtes were like that. As her sleep-slow fingertips traced the light bruising on her stomach, Oboro vaguely recalled Selena slinging her over her shoulder like a sack of singing potatoes and lugging back to her bed…
Wait… why wasn’t… all of her cold?
Oboro sat bolt upright; revelation banished the lingering daze of sleep.
“Geh-heh??” she aptly asked.
Selena grinned, astride Oboro’s legs like the victor of a fete, stroking her fingertips languidly up and down… Oboro’s achingly hard cock.
“S-selena,” Oboro mustered an iota of feigned firmness, speaking through clenched teeth as she threw a worried glance toward the tent flaps. “I-it’s already morning. It must be almost muster.”
“Fifteen minutes till. Which is why I said I’m doing you a favor. No way you’re tying this down under your clothes.”
She emphasized her point with a swift, firm squeeze. Oboro’s jaw slackened, and she lowed a small moan despite herself. Selena shifted atop her, knees grinding into her, forcing Oboro to bear her warrior’s weight. She throbbed in Selena’s iron grip; seemingly massive in that small, able hand.
The plaintive whisper of Oboro’s voice provided sharp contrast to the buckling of her washboard stomach. “Selena…”
A smile of painfully insincere innocence greeted her rapacious look. “Yes, m’dear?”
Her hips surged upwards. “I need you…”
Selena restrained the motion with another sharp squeeze, using the leverage to patiently guide Oboro’s bucking hips back to the soft earth beneath their bedding. “You need me to…” She smiled, drawing a finger over the seeping slit of Oboro’s cock. “…what?”
“I need it.”
Selena asked, dropping her head a fraction, and letting the word spill over the meaty tip in front of her on a weighted breath.
The whispered word tickled through the dense curls of Oboro’s pubic hair, air rushing warm over autumn-cooled skin. Oboro shuddered, ridging her back and spearing her hips into the air against the resistance of Selena’s weight atop her legs. The coltish buck of her body smeared a slim, glistening line against Selena’s rather surprised cheek. “T-take care of me!”
A soft rustle of Selena’s feet in the bedsheets behind her. A dip of her head, and the tickle of Selena’s pigtails over Oboro’s thighs, drawing sensation out of bare skin like the gentlest touch of pussy willow fronds.
“Please…” Her stomach moved in shallow waves; she was hoarse with this delay. “Selena…”
She looked up again, with a plucky grin scrawled over her lips to compensate for the now cherry-red color consuming her pale cheeks. “That’s fine. I won’t make you to ask me twice.”
“But I asked you t-three time-”
Not one for being corrected, Selena silenced Oboro with the swift descent of her head. Her lips parted eagerly for Oboro’s thick shaft, her tongue scooping beneath it, gliding it into her mouth. A futile ripple surged through Oboro’s tight abs. Her fingers scrambled, gripping hard into the bedding on either side of her. “Ahhh!” She whimpered, unable to restrain the instinctual lurch of her hips.
With a sharp gag, Selena retreated, delighted coughs spilling out of her as she chastised Oboro’s hips with a sharp slap. “Down girl. You’ll get yours.” A winsome, affectionate grin spread over her. Her tongue edged out, swirling languorously around the meaty tip of Oboro’s cock. “When I say so.”
She punctuated the statement with a kiss, a deliberately loud smack of her lips against Oboro’s burning tip. It felt like a millennia, that she left Oboro there, burning, hungry tip slick with spit and affection, cooling in the chill morning air.
Her eyes shut. Her short nails ground against her palms. It was all she could do not to beat the earth. “S-sel…”
Before Oboro could protest the threat of further delays, Selena offered a wink. Extending her tongue, drawing a lazy circle around the circumference of the pulsing tip.
Oboro’s hips undulated. This was the sign of her submission; no longer seeking purchase, something to rut against. She squirmed, and she obeyed.
And Selena’s grip met each sensual writhe with eager, downward pressure. Oboro felt her rear clench, over and over, without her input. She was shaking like a leaf in autumn. Selena drove downward, engulfing her. She mewled like a cat for milk. Her head fell back against the pillow. Throwing her arm over her eyes, she blocked out the growing light of dawn, and the dizziness her sight brought, as Selena engulfed her.
Selena broke for air with a sharp “fuah!” of breath, her ponytails shivering behind her with the motion. A shiver ran through Oboro, and it was hard to know if it was coming face to face with Selena’s beauty, or the ample chill of the cooling fall air around her slick cock.
Her face red, she began to pant, bobbing her head. “P-please, don’t stop?”
Such a humble request, Selena had no heart to deny. She hastened her hand. Beneath the shallow hoarseness of their shared breathing, the soft, shlicking sound of skin against slickened skin provided a foundation for their love making.
A fresh burst of cold sweat and shivers rippled over her with each plunging descent of Selena’s head, with each soft gag as she bottomed out, with each caress of knowing fingers over spit-slick and heated flesh. Oboro’s hands groped the air, searching for purpose, or some role to fill. The traced urgent, joyous lines through Selena’s thick, soft hair. Her fingers ran over her own face in frantic urgency. Her cheeks, her nose, her lips. They felt lovely and foreign to her touch. Selena jerked her up and down to the beat of some frenzied, unheard song, like a beast pursuing prey, like a knight errant on an unerring mission. A sound from outside, and before Oboro realized it was just a bird alighting on their tent, she’d crammed her thumb into her mouth to stifle a moan. Selena’s fist tightened at the hard, seething sound of it, shuttling eagerly up and down with a tense ripple of her fingers.
“Selena! Selena!” rasped Oboro, with no small urgency.
Selena broke character to blink, looking up at Oboro, and tilt her head. “Too hard?”
With a mewl of a groan, and the sound of tearing bedding from either side of her, Oboro unleashed herself. Pent-up cum glittered in the air, tracing a lovely arc, fighting gravity at its apex in divine struggle, before tracing a lovely arc downwards and splatting right onto Selena’s waiting nose, right between her widened eyes before splashing impotently down onto Oboro’s abdomen, slipping this way and that along her sweat-slickened skin with the struggling ripple of her breathing.
Selena, for her part, was thankful it missed her eyes.
Oboro moaned her feeble complaint, as Selena gripped firm around her still-pulsing shaft, and drew her warm tongue languidly around its blazing pink tip, cleaning her trophy. Her leg jittered against Selena, she was unable to sit the electric flutter of release grounding out of her body. Selena’s dutiful tongue sent shakes through her post-orgasmic core, impossible to stand. Yet she had no will to speak, and hardly any to move. Fingers like clubs, arm as heavy as an iron bar, it was all Oboro could to do seize the base of Selena’s pigtail in a clumsy fist and apply an evocative tug.
Selena incipient yelped melted into a giggle of realization. With Oboro sated, the energy seemed to dissipate from her as well, and she writhed languidly atop her mate, lifting her rear and giving a feline wriggle of her hips as a sudden sleepiness overcame her. Her body fairly oozed with sanguine energy; she trailed soft kisses along Oboro’s skin, cleaning up the small deposits of sticky cum that clung, trembling, to Oboro’s panting stomach, trembling with each ragged inhale of post-orgasmic breath.
“Well, that was nice…”
There was the sound of tromping feet from somewhere in or around the rows of tents. Morning exercises were beginning.
“Come. They’ll be missing us at muster…” Oboro mused, toying her fingers through Selena’s hair, running them through one of her ponytails as if examining a loose weave from her loom. They were so red, they seemed more cinnabar than growing dawn light sneaking in from between the tent flaps.
“Let them miss us, then,” Selena groused, wrinkling her nose. Her breath was slow, sleepy, and warm against Oboro’s slowly flagging member. She lifted her head to offer Oboro’s slowly flagging member a light nuzzle of her cheek, inadvertently marking herself with the final seepage of Oboro’s cum. “Someone already gave me my workout.”