The Lost Islands
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Meadow

Force-claiming is not allowed here. This is a peaceful, neutral area meant for socialising.

which, as they kiss, consume
Posted on July 16, 2020 at 10:04:27 PM by Sabriel


SABRIEL

Sabriel - having played this dangerous game before - had always prided herself on the meticulous composure that she maintained. Her lover might be inches from the precipice where self-control tumbled down into the dark abyss of desire turned to something akin to madness, but she was unruffled; disciplined. Perhaps the secret was that the black mare never allowed pleasure to yield to passion, enjoying her interactions with the masculine gender only on a superficial level. Yet something was different today. When Solomon drew a single step closer, her shadowy skin trembled in anticipation of his touch - and as if in sympathy with the words he spoke. She could feel her own wisdom fleeing at the ragged sound of his breath, and her own hitched in response. With blue eyes that had been darkened by desire, the silver black invited him closer, the taut spring of her body coiling tighter still.

At his first touch, she releases some of this tension in a little buck, her hooves missing the cream-and-gold body by scant inches. Solomon would undoubtedly feel the passage of the air that was displaced by her kick - a light breeze that would tickle the hairs along the underside of his belly. But if he noticed the warning, the stallion paid it no heed. Instead, he pressed closer to her, cleverly positioning himself so that her limbs would present no further threat unless she peeled her dark figure away from his light. And as his muzzle plunged into the silvery sea of her mane - and his husky voice made offer of the aforementioned services - Sabriel felt her resolve to do so crumble. “You are no gentleman, to cast doubt on the legitimacy of my innocence,” She scolded in response, her carefully-composed voice only slightly breathless. “Based off what they have witnessed so far, no stranger could doubt that I am more innocent than you, who would wrest that innocence from me under the guise of offering cuddles.”

Her claws disarmed for the moment, the brindled mare turned to her fangs in order to lend weight to her rebuke. In a sudden movement, she grasped a fold of skin at the base of Solomon’s neck, pinching it between her blunt teeth hard enough to draw blood. As the rusty-copper taste of it filled her mouth, Sabriel released him just as abruptly, then began to bathe the small wound with gentle caresses from her tongue. “Now see what you’ve done,” she admonished between strokes, her sultry voice tinged with a note of remorse. “In the face of your doubt, I’ve succumbed to the very same wicked ways of which I stood accused.” Exhaling her warm breath onto the abraded flesh, the silver-maned creature pulled back to meet Solomon’s gaze with her own sky blue eyes. Though wide and guileless on the surface, there was a shadow of hunger lurking in their depths.

The moment of repentance passed quickly; after the span of a couple heartbeats, Sabriel’s expression was playful again. “A walk then, perhaps. You may not mind an audience, but I would sooner lessen the number of creatures who bear witness to my shame should I succumb to your corrupting influence again… Solomon.” She had reached for him again, letting her whiskered muzzle brush against the soft skin of his cheek. The stallion’s name was whispered against the warm wall of his flesh, chagrin and lust combining to make it sound like a curse and a vow in the same breath. This time when Sabriel withdrew, she raked her teeth gently down the curve of his cheek and into the hollow of his throat. Then, with a soft laugh, she sidestepped and began to dance away with graceful, high-stepping strides.

“Or if a walk is too monotonous for your tastes, let us make a game of it,” she purred, glancing over the curve of her rump at Solomon and brushing her pale tail across his ribs teasingly. “If you would prefer that I sheathe my claws, then you can play the cat, and I will be the hapless mouse. Catch me, and perhaps I can sate that hunger of yours.” Sabriel called the last sentence out as she broke into a steadily loping stride, sweeping past the other mare and her suitor, then doing an abrupt zig to veer off into the trees. She did not, of course, intend to surrender herself to the champagne stallion - but if he believed that she did, then it made her game all the more fun. Laughing again, Sabriel gathered her haunches to leap over a small spring, then pivoted and began to follow it upstream. With little desire to win - leaving the promise of his touch behind had been difficult enough - she did not run at her utmost, but instead in a way calculated to let him emerge as victor… eventually.

Her dark ears burying themselves in the pale tendrils of her mane, Sabriel doubled back across the stream with another nimble leap. Ahead, a couple willows growing close together offered a secretive little grotto, and she ran for it, flicking her heels out with a squeal when Solomon started to draw near. Having won herself a couple valuable seconds, she clawed at the earth with all four hooves, bringing herself to an abrupt stop just as she disappeared behind the concealing curtain of branches that hung down. There, blue eyes glittering mischievously and silver tail dancing beckoningly, she waited for the next part of their game to begin.

4 | mare | mixed | silver black somatic brindle | 16.1hh


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