She could feel his gaze upon her flesh, examining her as she performed the task that he had demanded of her, and when she had raised her honey dipped orbs to look to him for critique, Athene had smugly noted the confirmation of her feelings – he was raking over her toned body, drinking in her form… but it was nothing compared to when his twin night skies paired with hers – he held nothing secret from her and openly showed the lustful thoughts in his mind, yet he had said and done nothing. That is – until she began to speak. In riddle and rhyme were the only way that Athene ever spoke, though it was rare for her to choose riddle over rhyme. She found rhyme schemes to be so much more eloquent and many had enough of a challenge in their paws dealing with her without having also to search for hidden meanings. And so instead she was overly blunt, calling Kershov a prime specimen for breeding. His response was immediate – Kershov’s façade rippled with pleasured thoughts, his pink tongue wetting his stalagmites and stalactites, tracing their every rise and fall as he cocked his cranium, intrigued by her phrase.
‘Breeder?’
His vocals were heated and Athene tremored under his gaze, her mind going to places and thoughts that she had not been able to travel to in many moons. The brindled ess’ mind nearly exploded prematurely with passion at the thought of what his tongue, so skilled in wetting his maw, could do to the ripples of flesh between her hind limbs. Then, the rise and fall his tongue ran the course of would not be the height of his pearls but instead the height of her own agonizing pleasure.
“Yes, Kershov, breeder. Is it a term you do not know?
It is a titan to whom a femme such as I will sometimes go
Seeking out pleasure – marked by moans and heat
Starting with a tongue such as yours running over her teat.
Pulses will start to race – perhaps as yours is even now
Well, even if not I will continue my description anyhow.
Kisses turn to nibbles, their breaths both increase in rate
The breeder’s job is to grab her tight, and then it will escalate.
He mounts her fast and slips himself within her wetted fold
She react in kind and moved her hips against his large hard mold
Eventually a breeder will bring both of them to their height
But I think that you’d need more than once to whet your appetite.”
She paused and released the softest of moans from her lips as she thought about those very things before continuing.
“Of course this all is meant for the reason of reproduction
But there’s no reason that it could not include seduction.”
From there, Athene had launched into her next set of monologues, asking for his preference on which of the next two sets of pushups he preferred. In tantalizingly slow motions, she had lowered and rose her body, giving him a clear view of her most private parts. Then had come the most innocently phrased murmured words, asking for his thoughts… but the king never offered them up. Instead, he offered up only the most minimal of responses: ‘The latter is . . . quite sufficient. Perhaps we need to alter the exercise, to give you the proper training . . .’ She acquiesced to him, nodding, and remained still as he circled her, stalked her, his pools studying her, and Athene kept her plume lingering over her dorsum, leaving herself exposed and allowed it sway slightly, its motion acting as a fan to spread her perfume into the air around him. Kershov was undoubtedly a great warrior, a wise leader… but how strong was his own self-control. Athene was a wonderful soldier, but there were tests and hoops to jump through beforehand her full trust and loyalty could be gained. In Kershov’s case? She wanted to find his every weakness, anything that could be used against him… so that in the future she would be able to properly prepare defenses against their mutual enemies. If that included using her as bait, so be it. And if she ended up being pleasured in the process? It would not have been the worst thing…
‘You make it look too easy, Madame Athene. It would be much more of a challenge if you tried this . . .’ Kershov had finally ceased circling her, and now did the pushup again, only this time on a single front limb as if he was a tripod. The ess purred as she cast her own lecherous gaze over his toned muscles as he used both strength and grace to lower to the ground and raise back up without so much as a tremble. As if he had done nothing, he moved to her side and waited for her to do as he had. They had yet to touch, and there was not even the slightest of contact between their hairs, nothing that could conduct the sparks of electricity from one of their bodies to the other that no doubt were begging to be loosed. She quieted her purr and now just stared at him, her tail flickering just a bit sharper now to show her irritation. She was enjoying their little game… but he had skipped a beat, cheated a bit when he had skipped over her request, and now Athene was wondering if she still wanted to play. Still, she had lost the bet and she was a fae of her word. Lifting one of her front limbs, she balanced her weight and began to lower herself down – halfway to her goal she knew her muscles were about to quake and tremble. With a quarter of the distance still to go they indeed did and she knew that she would need a miracle get her back down and back up… still she did not quit. She made it to the ground, but when she was halfway raised the last bit of stamina she had left dissipated and she collapsed sideways, not surprised at all to find Kershov’s shoulder was there to catch her, to support her. Athene clenched her jaw – she was not the type to play the damsel in distress card, but her words and his smoldering glances had heated her loins. There was nothing said she could not be the damsel in lust.
Slowly, she drew her muzzle toward his shoulder and hid it in his mane, inhaling his cologne which was intertwined with the musk of his manliness. Athene trailed it up the furrow where his jugular hid, pulsing away rapidly as she trailed up toward his muzzle. Her own tongue trailed toward his nares – across the same stalagmites and stalactites this his tongue had – and across the broken flesh of his maw. When her pink tissue retreated, she reached for his audette and bit down on it, hard. Between clenched teeth as she tugged, she spoke a final set of lyrics.
“Your thoughts were what I requested in exquisite detail
Yet still they hide within the corners of your mind behind a veil.
I thank you for catching me at this awkward moment of fragility
But I want the answer – if you have any interest in my own fertility.”
She waited for his response before letting him go – the ball was in his court.
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