The Reborn Witch had a nice 'Tea Time' with the Dragon Queen today
Chapter 55: Cherries Plucked! (R-18)

Chapter 55: Cherries Plucked! (R-18)

Adrei didn’t hesitate for a beat as she kneaded, crawled, coiled, sunk, pulled, and circled the pillow. Demond leaned into her touch as her hat fell, her white-haired back an arcing bowstring that never stopped backwards for the intruder, each inch of the fabric an unbearable barrier that seperated her peeking cherries and her lover’s warmth, yet the clothed shaping and reshaping in the middle of an alleyway brew a cauldron of absolute embarrassment and excitement, her caverns telling the tales of raggard edges from rainfalls, each tickly fibre coursing its own pulse against a smaller fabric.

"Adrei...Adrei..."

The Dragon Queen groaned, instinct as the tyrant’s daughter kicking in before her palm’s caretaking. the sinking garden that that begged for the cherries plucked, and her wife’s teary eyes above redness that dared her flames to quench, the sensory overload crashed in her vein as she clashed her lips onto Demond, biting, pulling, licking, pushing, each tilt of a head spoke of a different angle a canivorous beast seeked to devour her sheep, each grasp of the pillowed garden tainted a future of promises for more.

The smacking sound of lips and the occasional calling for her name fuelled Demond with a further heated daringness, as her palm stretched to latch onto Adrei’s own pillow. Groaning at her wife’s activeness, she pushed into her touch as her kneading slowly subsided, each agonising slowness rewarded a disappointed gasp from her wife that begged for more, before with one final knead, her finger darted for the cherry, and finally plucked its root.

The slight yelp from Demond allowed gap between her mouth as Adrei’s tongue happily slipped into her sweetness, her finger now circling the little cherry stubbornly rooted in the garden. The swift stroke, tickle, pull, knead, pluck buckled Demond’s hips in an endless rythme against the wall, her own palm grasping with firm strength yet the caverns screamed for her to give in and became a doll that spilled a pool of rainwater.

Adrei’s smirked as her own hips slightly curved to allow her sheep what little autnomy she would give, her tongue reaching in every corners of the witch’s mouth, a dart board where only she has her turn for the witch’s tongue shuddering to meet each intrusion, the cherry plucked and tickled as it plused along with her heartbeat..

Adrei hissed with the push and pull that would not satified the hollowness, as with one more plucking that sent Demond into a silent scream, her tongue exploring every last inches of the sweet saliva, before her figure pulled away, as Demond disappointedly whine, her unsatisfied body cruling into itself, as if her feeble arms would prevent the thousand ants crawling away at her skin, all for their quests for the cherry they must pull.

Her husband, however, pulled Demond apart the wall and turning her around, before her palms cupped her pillows once again, this time with a softer, tender touch that tickled away Demond’s icy ember. The witch gaaped as her hips twirled along with the palms, a bizarre dance of heat like a young puppet eager to please her master. Chuckling at her cuteness, Adrei merely lent out her tongue, before the gasping dancer blinked, as her tongue slid against her husband’s, before colliding and molding each other’s tongue, honeyed tricklets with each stroke as her kneaded garden of cherries threatened to drip sweet nectars themsevles.

Yet the rhythm was slow and painful, each ache of the witch’s dance reminded of a sensation that could have been, each glide over her tongue a glazer of fire against icy tremours, unmelting of the iced purity that was desperated to be stained more by Adrei’s color. With one more stroke on her pillow, Adrei glid across her tongue’s head as the witch tilted against little explorer, as she meweled with a sudden sense of freshness, as Adrei slid her robes’ collar to reveal her right shoulder, before she tore it down to reveal her left bareness.

The witch shuddered as Adrei’s palm glided into her garden, each stroke a heated touch that her fabric no longer protected her from. Her hips buckled more as she melted into the touch, Adrei’s names escaping her lips, as the vulnerability to be handed to such a beast that asked for no consent only made her more willing to be corrupted. Knead, stroke, circle, push, the serpants devoured the garden with its tip sliding over the edge of her cherry, a torturous craddle by Adrei to fuel just enough, yet coiled for more like drips of water in a desert.

Adrei smirked before her palm further sunk into the pillow, a loud hum echoing her ear as the witch’s was pulled into tight embrace, the large scaled garden behind her back stung bees of desire. The witch buckled back and forth, Adrei’s skillful caregiving and the unbearbly thorns that were the dragon’s cherries scraping her back sent her an euphoria of with no exits, her body a cage that contained a yeti in heat, her tongue darting out to beg for attention, which Adrei’s lips happily crashed down to oblige.

Her bare garden was kneaded into too many shape that even the the cherry felt uprooted, as Adrei smirked into the devouring her lips before once again plucking, which Demond replied with a gasp and a hand behind Adrei to deepen the kiss. Adrei groaned as her other palm on her waist slid over to her other pillow, making sure both of them were equally tended to. The snake above her fabric was like an unnatural vein on the blue robe, the other hand on her bare pillow coiled leylines on her body, her tongue felt so loved with each petting and twirling. Each knead of pillow and plucking of cherries carried a silent requiem, the small spots of sunlights and shadows their only audience, her iced purity finally melded into Adrei’s as the witch’s back arched more into the scaled softness, her husband’s name never failing to escaping her lips.

Her wife’s cuteness the only thing that dangled the dragon’s sanity, as while her hand kneaded the bare pillow, the other has moved on a journey, the witch so focused on her lips being devoured that she hasn’t noticed, before her hips twitched at the sudden pressure, the caverns below spilling more springwater as a breath seeped from her throat into Adrei’s mouth.

The caverns below now spoke of a spring uprising, as Adrei’s free hand and circled around the bowel, her lips seperating as she enjoyed the sweet melody from her wife’s dried lips, the bubbled tears from her wife’s watery eyes, and the clentched thighs from her trembling knees. The coming of spring from the cavern’s edge and berry tingled her very existence, her bare cherry garden was still cared for as her hips was bullied into submission, waters surging from her eyes and below, her thighs the only gateway left for Adrei to crawl through.

Tightening her embrace, Adrei leaned in with bare teeth, before nipping at her bare shoulder. The slight jolt of pain spiralled her cavern out of control, water sprung as her tongue darted out, her robes dampened as her thighs clenteched tighter. The quivering of the small prey only made the predator’s teeth to sink further in, her tongue met the shoulder blade for extra flavours, all mercy has been lost as her shoulder, garden and hips were equally, brutally melded into Adrei’s shape, each nip, knead and press a story of how Demond cried and begged for no mercy, her body now a canvas for the Dragon Queen to paint as she wished, the loosened collar spoke of a prey being claimed, and her thighs tightened as it closed and opened, the river dropplets made her robes clung to the skin, as the smells of honey and sweats fueled their nostrils with a raw freshness.

With another bite on her shoulder, the dampness finally broke from the cavern, damp silk clung to her thighs as Demond’s eyes rolled, Adrei’s teeth cackled as it scraped the shoulder blade, her finger uprooting the stilled cherry so the palm can then grasp the garden as her own.

Exhausted breath hitched the witch’s throat, her bare shoulder finally registering the coldness to the air, her pillowed garden ever the eager soul for her cherry to be played with more. Her skirt now was a small curtain against the coming of spring, the front drippling with the result of their passion. The uncomfortable silk finally brought what little clarity she had in mind, the surging embarassment not braided as an exasperated sigh came first, before a grumbling slipped from her lips.

"I’m so going to turn that junk bot into teapot when I come back for her....."

Adrei chuckled, as her lips tapped the witch’s cheek who whined in protest. She has not any protest for today, so she must at least make one in the end, her pride unfractured even when sullied by the mixed dance she would never, ever, possibly asked for again in the future.