Oraythe was drawn from her contemplation when she felt his hands against her shoulders, marveling at the scales ranging in size from coins to ones little bigger than river pebbles. The dunmer’s red gaze finally met her own, though in the same moment his hand grazed her belly, the muscles beneath the skin fluttering at the unexpectedness of the touch.
“I’m sorry, my dear, it was not what I expected.” Erandur muttered softly as he pressed closer, shivering slightly. Oraythe grunted softly and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer to her body warmth, despite the fact that the closeness was still strange to her.
“And what were you expecting, hmm?”
“I had thought that Argonian skin was rougher. Even the largest of your scales are smooth, warm. It reminds me more of a snake than a lizard or some exotic river beast. And your belly is smooth and soft. It’s like rabbit hide...” His mouth was nestled against her throat now, the warmth of his breath making her pulse race. Finally, his hand traced upward to one of her breasts, and tugged the thin cloth modesty band out of the way. The lack of a nipple did not seem to phase him, though he caressed and rolled the curved mound of flesh carefully in his hands.
It was a pleasing sensation, and Oraythe could understand why other women spoke of it among one another, though without a nipple she had not quite the same sensitivity. Erandur’s interest seemed to lay more in the simple pleasure of touching, for now, so Oraythe’s focus remained on treating his bruises and other wounds. Picking up the salve jar, and scooping up a small smear of the fragrant ointment, she began to gingerly work the stuff into the cuts along Erandur’s back. When he showed no overt discomfort, she worked her way down, until her hands rested just at his hips.
He seemed content to rest against her throat and breasts, beard tickling. With a soft sigh, she pressed her hands down across his buttocks, massaging and squeezing. A noise of pleasure was her reward, and she gave another soft squeeze before gathering up more salve and attending the small nicks along his thighs and legs, her muzzle resting in his salt and pepper hair. His breathing intensified when the pressure of her hands met his thighs, and she gave a light squeeze before gesturing for him to lean back. His erection rested along the curve where his thigh met his hip, but for the moment she ignored it, savoring the little noises he made at her touch.
He seemed to wince a bit when she spread the salve over his thigh and the places along his side and hip where the buckles had bitten into flesh, but he didn’t move to stop her. Finally, it was done. The salve would work within a few days time, and though there might still be some imprints, they would heal and would pain him no longer.
Re: "Salve" Het, F!DB Argonian/Erandur, 5/?
“I’m sorry, my dear, it was not what I expected.” Erandur muttered softly as he pressed closer, shivering slightly. Oraythe grunted softly and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer to her body warmth, despite the fact that the closeness was still strange to her.
“And what were you expecting, hmm?”
“I had thought that Argonian skin was rougher. Even the largest of your scales are smooth, warm. It reminds me more of a snake than a lizard or some exotic river beast. And your belly is smooth and soft. It’s like rabbit hide...” His mouth was nestled against her throat now, the warmth of his breath making her pulse race. Finally, his hand traced upward to one of her breasts, and tugged the thin cloth modesty band out of the way. The lack of a nipple did not seem to phase him, though he caressed and rolled the curved mound of flesh carefully in his hands.
It was a pleasing sensation, and Oraythe could understand why other women spoke of it among one another, though without a nipple she had not quite the same sensitivity. Erandur’s interest seemed to lay more in the simple pleasure of touching, for now, so Oraythe’s focus remained on treating his bruises and other wounds. Picking up the salve jar, and scooping up a small smear of the fragrant ointment, she began to gingerly work the stuff into the cuts along Erandur’s back. When he showed no overt discomfort, she worked her way down, until her hands rested just at his hips.
He seemed content to rest against her throat and breasts, beard tickling. With a soft sigh, she pressed her hands down across his buttocks, massaging and squeezing. A noise of pleasure was her reward, and she gave another soft squeeze before gathering up more salve and attending the small nicks along his thighs and legs, her muzzle resting in his salt and pepper hair. His breathing intensified when the pressure of her hands met his thighs, and she gave a light squeeze before gesturing for him to lean back.
His erection rested along the curve where his thigh met his hip, but for the moment she ignored it, savoring the little noises he made at her touch.
He seemed to wince a bit when she spread the salve over his thigh and the places along his side and hip where the buckles had bitten into flesh, but he didn’t move to stop her. Finally, it was done. The salve would work within a few days time, and though there might still be some imprints, they would heal and would pain him no longer.