Ailsa knelt beneath Varcorak’s outstretched wing, rubbing oil into the black and green canopy. The dragon’s wing membrane was sturdy as leather, but softer and quite warm. Tiny veins pulsed throughout it. A muscular joint behind Varcorak’s shoulder anchored his wing, with the membranes attached along his back from that joint to his haunch. Ailsa worked her way from the joint out to his wingtip. As Varcorak’s wing twitched and trembled, he made halting, growling noises that sounded suspiciously like draconic giggles.

Ailsa paused, smirking as she rubbed fresh oil between her hands. “Are your wings that ticklish, Var?”

“I keep telling you, they aren’t ticklish.” Varcorak snorted, his wing twitched. “They are sensitive.”

“If that’s what you want to call it.” Ailsa trailed a single finger across the underside of the dragon’s wing just to make it twitch. Varcorak squirmed. “They seem ticklish to me.”

“They require sensitivity to feel the air currents.” The dragon snapped his jaws. “We went over this while you oiled my other wing.”

“Could have sworn you said they were ticklish.” Ailsa had finished oiling his first wing quickly after returning to his massage. But the dragon’s ticklishness was so amusing she’d taken her time with the second. “Don’t worry, Cranky, won’t be long now and I’ll be done tickling you.”

Ailsa slipped out from under Varcorak’s outstretched wing and grasped its edge. Ailsa spread the oil all along the edges of Var’s wing until she’d reached his body. Then she walked back and forth, distributing the oil as far as she could. The oiled areas shone in the blue light.

“How’s that?”

“Good enough.” Varcorak folded his wings over his back, rubbing them together to help spread the oil.

“That just leaves your underside, then.” Ailsa grinned at the wriggling dragon. “Can you lie on your back or are your wings in the way?”

“I can.” Varcorak eased himself over onto his back, draping his wings against the blankets. “I don’t bare my belly for just anyone.”

“I’m honored.” Ailsa grinned.

Ailsa clambered up, and seated herself on his chest plates, smooth beneath her body. Ailsa stretched her arms up his chest, kneading the muscles beneath the natural armor. The oil made his plating shine. Ailsa wriggled her way down his body, massaging every armored inch. The further down his body she moved, the more the plates melted away into pebbly scales that felt lovely against her skin.

Ailsa oiled every scale. She worked her hands down his sides, across his ribs. Varcorak sighed, ever more relaxed. With her focus on his belly, Ailsa noticed more scars than before, gray marks on his ebony underbelly. She traced a finger around the largest scar, wondering, but when the dragon squirmed she left it be.

When she reached his hind legs, Ailsa slipped off the dragon. She oiled his tail next, from the finned spines at its tip to where it met his body. Then she turned her attention to a gray-speckled hind paw. She kneaded the tender gray pads and delicate webbing before working oil along his limb. Ailsa danced her fingers between the dragon’s back legs, teasing where scales gave way to flesh. His erection had mostly retreated. She traced a finger around a draconic testicle, dragged her fingertip up the ebon sheath that held his member, and moved onto his other limb.

“Tease.” Varcorak snorted.

“You like it.” Ailsa caressed the pebbly black scales of the dragon’s thigh, working to his paw. When his scales and pads were glistening, Ailsa drummed her fingers back down his leg, pausing where it met his body. “All done. Have I missed anything?”

“That’s not funny.”

Ailsa settled down against the base of the dragon’s tail, pebbly scales under her rump. “I suppose your balls deserve a massage, too.”

“That isn’t all.”

Ailsa grinned and ran a finger between Varcorak’s balls. The black dragon’s testicles hung loose in warm relaxation, their fat oval shapes silhouetted against the ebony skin. The left one hung a little lower, and Ailsa cupped it in her palm. With her other hand, she rubbed oil in slow circles over the sensitive skin.

“How’s that?” Ailsa rolled the dragon’s ball between her hands.

“Mmmrrrrhhhrrrmm.”

Ailsa grinned, massaging the dragon’s testicle till half his scrotum shone with oil. She moved to the other jewel, kneading the tender gland and spreading oils all across the skin. Varcorak groaned, his toes curling, spines trembling around his head. Ailsa watched his pointed, ruby member emerge from its soft black sheath as she polished his eggs.

“You’ve fascinating equipment.” Ailsa laughed. “I’m afraid the next man I’m with will seem boring.”

Ailsa reached forward and twined her fingers around the tapered tip of the dragon’s growing spear. It was hot against her skin, as smooth as the dragon’s scrotum. She squeezed it, stroked the last few inches with her oiled palm. Varcorak trilled in delight. She stroked him again, coaxing the rest of him out. Then she took him between her hands, running her oily fingers down the dragon’s shaft to his ridges, then his balls. Teasing his ridges brought a second trill.

“Where’s the most sensitive part of you?” Ailsa leaned over the dragon’s erection, breasts brushing him. Her tongue against his pointed tip made him gasp. “Here?” She drummed her fingers across his ridges. “Or here?” Varcorak sucked in another breath, shivering. “Here, I think.”

“Ridges,” Varcorak said, his voice a blissful murmur. “Then tip, and the rest.”

“Oh?” Ailsa leaned back, peering at the dragon’s penis. She wrapped both hands around its ridged base, then pumped him. “What if I just stroke these?”

Varcorak cried out, thrusting against her touch.

“Oooh, someone likes that.” Ailsa giggled, stroking the hot, fleshy creases a few more times.

“Ailsa, too much!” Varcorak half-shouted, half-laughed, squirming. His member pulsed in her grasp.

“That sensitive, huh?” Ailsa eased her grip. Wouldn’t want to set him off early and miss a chance to wear him out.

Ailsa ran her hands to Varcorak’s pointed tip. Between its natural smoothness and her oily hands, the dragon’s crimson member felt very slick. Ailsa squeezed it then eased her hands towards his balls, her fingers knitted around him. Ailsa pumped her arms, both oiled hands gliding together in smooth strokes. Varcorak groaned, the sound deep and gravelly, bubbling with pleasure.

“Feel good, Dragon?” Ailsa leaned back and forth with every stroke. The motion caused her to rub against his tail’s pebbly scales. She spread her legs, enjoying the feeling of his warmth against her.

“Yeesss.” The dragon’s reply was drawn out into a moan.

“Been a while before today, hasn’t it.” Ailsa stroked him harder, grinding her hips against the dragon’s tail. She bit her lip. It felt good. “Poor dragon.”

Ailsa leaned forward to kiss the dragon’s spear-flare. The dragon lifted his hips and Ailsa flicked her tongue. She tasted the herbal oils and the dragon’s exposed skin. For a moment, she wondered how dragons mated. Probably from behind, like animals. Did they share pleasure in other ways? That’d be something to see.

Alisa lifted her rump and slipped a hand between her legs. She was wet. Her swollen folds parted easily for her fingers. She worked two of them in as she stroked the dragon’s tip, licked his ridges. For a little while, she pumped the dragon with one hand and herself with the other. Then she had a better idea.

Ailsa crawled across the dragon. She dragged her tongue up Varcorak’s cock, her fingers over his balls. Then she settled against the dragon’s spear, her warmth and softness pressed to unsheathed flesh. The dragon’s member felt very hot and hard beneath her. Ailsa rolled her hips, stroking him with her rump. Varcorak groaned, eyes rolling.

The woman leaned forward and rolled her hips back, pressing her body to the dragon until she felt his heat against her sex. Ailsa trapped Varcorak’s cock between their bodies, hard and hot against her stomach. The pebbly scales of his underside teased her nipples as she twisted into position. She might not be able to safely take him inside her, but she could use his body to pleasure herself. Oh, and him too. Ailsa wriggled against the base of the dragon’s cock till she was parted against it, warmth caressing her spread lips. She rolled her hips, and pleasure blossomed as her clit rubbed against the dragon’s ridges.

“Oh, God.” Ailsa moaned, kissing Varcorak’s belly, his member flush against her.

Ailsa thrust against the dragon’s cock, using his ridges to stroke her clit and parted folds. Her wetness slickened Varcorak’s member as she dragged her pussy across it, his heat ever-present. The beast moaned, lifting his hips to slide his maleness against her body. His cock slipped along her belly, his heat pressed between her breasts. His scales rubbed her nipples, his ridges rolled against her clit and his balls pressed against her. Ailsa stretched her arms and dragged her nails down his natural armor, grinding herself against him.

As Varcorak moved, she moved. Ailsa matched his motions. She stroked his tip with her breasts, rubbed his mating tool between their bodies. She moved in tandem with the dragon even as she ensured his ridges kept sliding back and forth over her clit. Varcorak’s heat against such sensitive flesh was almost fiery, any hotter and the pleasure might stray into pain yet Ailsa relished it.

Varcorak put his paw on Ailsa’s rump, claw tips teasing her skin. Ailsa wriggled against his grasp, twisting against the dragon’s entire mating tool. Dribbles of draconic pre lubricated her skin from her breasts to her belly. Grinding herself against his bestial member and its hot grooves made her feel as though the dragon were some kind of giant, twisted pleasure toy. A toy she was more than happy to take full advantage of.

Not like the dragon wasn’t enjoying himself.

As Ailsa’s pleasure grew, her motions became more urgent. She gave little gasps and moans with every blissful caress of flesh on flesh. Her juices ran down the tiny valleys between the dragon’s ridges, wet his balls. When the dragon’s blissful snarls got louder, his thrusts stronger, Ailsa glanced up at him, smirking. Bet his swamp woman never rode him this way.

As Ailsa neared her release, she put one hand against the dragon and pushed herself up. With the other, she grabbed the dragon’s cock and lifted it away from his belly to press its base harder between her legs. She wriggled herself till her swollen clit was flush against the bumpy lines encircling the base of the dragon’s erection. Then Ailsa ground herself against it with frantic need. She rocked herself against the dragon’s spear, relishing its heat and desperate for more. Faster, harder, until finally she came again.

Ailsa screamed her delight as the ecstasy rolled through her, her inner walls clenching. She tossed her head back and forth, her jet black hair flying, eyes squeezed shut. Her honey spilled across the dragon and over his balls. Ailsa thrust herself against the dragon a few final uneven times, barely even able to hear his own cries through her pleasure. He throbbed as she squeezed him, dragon pre dribbling down her fingers.

As Ailsa’s orgasm faded, she eased back, panting. As soon as she caught her breath she leaned forward and took the dragon in her mouth. Ailsa bobbed her head against the dragon’s tapered tip, her hands stroking his oiled, crimson length in swift, smooth motions. Varcorak gave a shuddering groan. Ailsa swirled her tongue around his tip, sucking, and the groan turned into a frantic trill.

Ailsa bobbed her head and stroked him faster. Even as her own afterglow was just settling in, Ailsa had the unexpected urge to let the beast finish off in her mouth. He’d earned it with his tongue and all. Ailsa sucked him harder, slurping on the dragon. Soon Varcorak’s whole body went tense, his scarlet cock flexed and his ebon sac tightened.

Varcorak snarled when he came, his paws curling. His tail twisted into coils, his spines flared and he beat his wings against the blankets. Finishing him in her mouth seemed fun and spontaneous until the first spurt of white-hot dragon seed exploded from his tip. The force of it stung her throat and filled her mouth to overflowing. There was something primal about the taste of him but Ailsa was too busy trying not to choke to consider it.

The second eruption was larger and Ailsa was forced to retreat, coughing. She pulled her head back, dragon semen dripping down her chin. She pumped the beast in her hands through the rest of his orgasm. The dragon’s final spurts arced through the air, splattering his underbelly with off-white mottling that sluiced down his plates and scales. Once his bursts tapered off to dribbles, Ailsa let his member flop against his underbelly.

Ailsa followed suit, flopping against the dragon’s hind leg. She rested her head against him, panting. She wiped her mouth. “You’re messy, Var.”

“It’s your fault.” The dragon plucked a small, tattered blanket, and used it to wipe his belly. “We should bathe while there’s a pause in the storm. I hate going to bed unclean.”

“Good idea.” When Ailsa caught her breath, she slipped off the dragon. “Hope you’re not going to sleep on that sex rag.”

“Sex rag?” The dragon snorted, rolling over onto his belly. “Must humans name everything? I’m going to wash it and leave it outside.”

Ailsa smiled as she strolled to the tapestry-covered exit. She slipped out into the evening and found the storm had lessened to a cool, steady rain that filled the swamp with a fresh, clean scent. Ailsa stood beneath the overhang while her eyes adjusted. Streams gushed over broken cobblestone, muddy puddles lay in shallow depressions. The rain clattered against the tiles above her, and everywhere else was the pattering hiss of water on water.

Varcorak walked out behind her, rustling his wings. “I’ve set a blanket down inside so we can wipe our muddy paws when we return.”

Ailsa chuckled. Damn obsessive dragon. “So is this our nightly ritual now?”

“If you’d like it to be.” The dragon stepped out from under the eave, hissing at one of the headless statues as if it had insulted him. Rain splattered against his black and green scales.

“I’d like that.” She’d like that tongue, anyway. The next time some drunken warrior was awkwardly fumbling around with his mustached face between her thighs, Ailsa was going to wish she could use her stolen treasure to buy a dragon.

Ailsa followed Varcorak to his tub. She climbed into the cool water and closed her eyes. The chirping frogs and buzzing insects melded with the steady, cascading rain into an ocean of gentle noise. It sounded like a thousand soothing, whispering voices all at once.

Ailsa smiled. “Your swamp’s not so bad, Var.”

Varcorak rumbled as he eased into the water. “A pleasant end to our evening.”

“Evening’s not done yet, Var.” Ailsa waded to the dragon and stroked his neck. “We can’t end the day without your treats.”

 

 

I hope you enjoyed the ninth episode of The Devil’s Deal by D. Wilder. Stay tuned for the final two episodes. You can catch up on episodes you may have missed and see the full schedule along with contact information for D. Wilder here.