Sol’s fingers tightened in her frizzy, unkempt hair, using the leverage to hold Evara in place as she bobbed her head. The sight was maddening—the "lazy" widow of the tribe, known for her lethargy and complaints, was currently working his cock with a frantic, starving desperation that betrayed years of repressed hunger.
"Suck," Sol commanded, his voice a ragged growl. He thrust shallowly, feeling the wet heat of her throat constrict around the head of his penis.
Evara didn’t pull away. Her nostrils flared, inhaling the scent of his arousal, and she made a muffled, defiant sound against his flesh. She wasn’t submitting out of fear; she was submitting out of greed. Her hands, calloused from years of gripping rough tools (or avoiding them), clawed at his thighs, her nails digging into the muscle not to push him away, but to anchor herself.
She withdrew slowly, her lips creating a tight, wet seal that made a lewd pop as the head emerged. Saliva and pre-cum strung between them like spiderwebs.
But sol growls and yanks her head forward, forcing her to take him deeper. Her throat convulses around him, and she doesn’t pull away... instead, her fingers dig into his thighs as she hollows her cheeks, sucking hard enough to make his vision blur. "Cheeky widow," he rasps, thrusting shallowly into her mouth. "Thought your ’back’ was the problem?"
Evara pulls off with an obscene wet sound, grinning up at him with spit-slick lips. "Oh, it *is*," she gasps, palming her own breasts with a moan. "But now I’ve got this ’other’ ache between my legs... and only one cure." She rolls onto her back, spreading her thick thighs shamelessly, her swollen folds glistening. "Unless you’d rather I take care of it myself?" Her eyes, usually half-lidded and sleepy, were wide and blown with lust, the pupils dilated so much the brown was almost gone.
She looked up at him, a spark of arrogance returning now that she had him momentarily out of her throat. "Is that all you have, boy? I thought you were going to ruin me. I’m barely choking."
Sol’s eyes narrowed. The Ash-Grey energy in his chest pulsed. She wanted a challenge? She wanted to play the queen?
"Careful, widow," Sol warned, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Don’t ask for depths you can’t swim in."
He didn’t wait for her retort. He grabbed the back of her head with both hands and drove his hips forward.
This time, he didn’t stop at the back of her tongue. He pushed past the soft palate, sliding down the tight, fleshy tunnel of her esophagus. Evara’s eyes bulged, water instantly flooding her vision. Her gag reflex triggered violently, her throat clamping down on him in a series of rhythmic, involuntary spasms.
Gulk. Gulk. Gulk.
To Sol, the sensation was transcendent. The tightness of her throat, combined with the frantic, terrified heat of her mouth, was unlike anything he had felt. But it was the Vitality that stunned him. Even through this contact—mucous membrane to skin—he felt a rush of energy. It wasn’t as strong as full intercourse, but it was potent. Her struggle, her biological fight for air, generated a frantic life force that his body drank in greedily.
Evara tried to pull back, her hands slapping weakly at his legs, but Sol held firm. He wasn’t hurting her—not truly—but he was dominating her completely. He fucked her face with a slow, deliberate rhythm, forcing her to reorganize her breathing, forcing her to accept him as a part of her anatomy.
After a long minute, he pulled out, leaving her gasping and coughing, a string of saliva connecting her chin to his cock.
"You..." she wheezed, wiping her face with the back of her hand. She looked wrecked. Her lips were swollen and red, her face flushed.
But then, she laughed. It was a breathless, jagged sound.
"Okay," she whispered, looking at his glistening shaft with a mix of hatred and adoration. "You have... some size. I’ll give you that."
She crawled forward on her knees, her heavy breasts swaying beneath her, brushing against his shins. She looked up, her expression shifting from arrogance to something more primal.... a teacher assessing a student who had just surprised her.
"But you’re messy," she scolded, her voice husky. She reached out and took his cock in her hand again. "Look at this. You’ve made a mess of yourself."
She didn’t just lick him this time. She began to treat his cock like a lollipop, using the flat of her tongue to swirl around the sensitive ridge of the corona. She hummed against the urethra, the vibration traveling straight down Sol’s shaft and exploding in his balls.
"I know a few things, kid," she murmured against his skin, glancing up through her wet lashes. "I may be a widow, but I wasn’t always alone.
She moved one hand down, her fingers pushing past his testicles to press firmly on his perineum—the taint. She massaged it in a circular motion while simultaneously sucking the head of his penis hard.
Sol’s knees buckled. The dual sensation hit a nerve cluster he didn’t know existed in this new body.
"Fuck," he hissed, his hands finding her shoulders and gripping hard enough to bruise.
"There he is," Evara purred, vibrating against him. She pulled off with a wet smack. "See? I can make you shake too."
She sat back on her heels, looking proud of herself. Her chest was heaving, her nipples hard points in the cool air. She looked like a primitive goddess of fertility... messy, wet, and utterly unapologetic.
"Now," she commanded, pointing to the furs. "You’ve had your turn. My mouth is tired. And my pussy..." She spread her legs wide, revealing the soaking wet, dark bush that was dripping onto the floor. "My pussy is weeping, Sol. Fix it."
Sol looked at her... this demanding, arrogant, insatiable woman. He felt the Ash-Grey Energy swirling, begging to punish her, and the Primal Resonance of his body begging to breed her.