Just before the arrow-shaped end, my tail is very narrow and also extremely flexible. I coil it into several loops around the shaft of his penis, which has drooped slightly. This immediately recalls his cock to life. It stiffens and begins thrusting forward within the broad circlet formed by my tail.
My tail moves with him, but gently, softly, slowing him down so he has time to feel and appreciate each slight bit of these delicious sensations. The motion of his pelvis also causes my hands to move inside him. I accentuate that friction, delicately stroking with a varying combination of fingers.
I feel that faint quiver of his insides that I am so used to feeling in myself, that sense of drawing in a desired intruder, that exquisite yearning, the need to surrender and yield your body to another.
I have at last made him feel that internal spasming. My hands are being squeezed regularly now, and I can see the slight twitch and release of the muscles in his lower abdomen that accompanies it. Each time, he makes a soft sound, as I do when I feel it happening within me.
“Elf, what the –?”
“Shh, shh. This is all right. This is good. This is vhat I have been trying to do to you. Calm yourself. Vhat do you feel?”
“It’s – it’s like an invisible finger has reached inside me and is stirring something around just below my bladder, making everything twitch. Aahh!”
Verdammt! He has just described it better than I have ever been able to.
“Ja, that is it. Do not fight it. Accept it. A sort of steady-state sense of continuing pleasure, not entirely voluntary, but not completely involuntary either. It is happening inside me even now, just from feeling it within you.”
“I never imagined –“
I cut him off. “Shh. Too many vords. Just feel. Just be.”
All too easily now, I could take my own advice and drift off into my private world of ecstasy. But I must not. If I give myself over to that wondrous sensation, I will forget what I am doing and lose my focus on Logan. You wanted control, Kurt, I remind myself. Responsibility is the price of control. Pay it. He is what counts now, not your pleasure.
Speaking of private worlds, Logan appears to be off in his own, consumed entirely by the sensations he has never felt before. With no more extra appendages left to use, I lay my cheek lightly on his abdomen just above his groin, where I can feel the lovely twitch of his muscles deep inside. Whether or not he will be able to summon up this pleasure during our usual sex, at least he will understand how I feel.
I raise my head, then lean forward over him as far as I can. Without even expecting him to hear me, I whisper softly, “Ich liebe dich so sehr.”
His barely audible reply astounds me on more levels than one.
“Ich dich auch.”
Tears fill my eyes and overflow to drip down upon his belly. Herrgott! He has actually said that he loves me!
Something inside me melts and I lose track of everything except intense joy and ever-mounting pleasure. We are synchronized now, the rhythm of those internal spasms that work their magic inside us both running together. In my wildest dreams, never did I imagine such a thing could happen.
Time dissolves into the present moment. Enveloped in this shared experience, I can barely tell where my body ends and his begins. I am moaning and whimpering helplessly in the grip of an overwhelming sense of happiness and peace such as I have never felt before. Oh Gott, it is too much! I cannot contain this overabundance of love. I will surely soon explode into a million quivering pieces and each piece will sing of its incredible joy.
Does this ineffable feeling last for a moment or an hour? I do not know. All I know is that the usual version of reality seeps slowly back into my fevered brain. I must bring all this to a conclusion, before we both drop dead of exhaustion, or too much delight.
I press one surface of the flat end piece of my tail against the tip of Logan’s almost painfully swollen, leaking cock. Nothing more is needed to push him over the edge. I can feel his seed pumping through his penis with the coils of my tail. That is enough to set me off also. Too wrung out to even scream, we both let out a strange choking moan, which could as easily indicate pain as pleasure. I collapse, my upper body on top of him, too weak to move.
As may be expected, Logan recovers before I do.
“Enough, Elf.”
“Out?” is my barely audible reply.
“Yes, but take it real easy, huh? It’s gonna hurt.”
Out. Yes, it is time. He appears exhausted, both mentally and physically. I am not surprised to realize that I am too. My arms ache, now that I am no longer so wrapped up in the experience. My scored back hurts sharply in a number of places, and blood tickles its way down my spine, clearly from the only partly scabbed tracks of his blades that have been pulled open by my exertions. Yes, it is worth these minor hurts, but this is enough.
I flatten both my palms together tightly and begin to retreat, slowly and carefully. I can see streaks of blood on the backs of my hands, but I know he will heal as soon as the pressure that caused the tears in his sphincter is relieved.
Logan sighs as my hands leave his body. His eyes are closed and he looks peaceful now, more relaxed than he usually appears even in sleep. If I could only make that peace last for him forever! But I know that cannot be. There is too much conflict within his heart, too much barbed wire tangled around his tortured soul. Sadly, such a man is not meant for a life of peace and contentment, either mentally or physically. But I will give him every bit of both whenever I can.
Recalling the sharp pang of loss I felt when his hand had been removed from me, I think perhaps he feels that now. To counter that possibility, I lie face down on top of him, my head on his chest, our bodies stuck together with sweat and our combined cum. It is messy, but strangely right, just at this moment.
His arms wrap around me with a tightness that almost feels like desperation. It hurts the slashes on my back, although I try not to wince.
“Aw, shit! I’m hurtin’ ya,” he says as he lets me go. But I do not move off of him. I am too comfortable here. His hand reaches for my head as he smoothes back my hair and looks me in the face.
“I had no idea I could feel something like that, outside of the brief seconds of orgasm. I don’t understand.”
“I do not understand how it works either, but – O God! – I surely know how wonderful it feels!” I smile down at him. “And now you know also.”
“Can you feel it all the time?”
“You mean vhen we have sex?”
“Yeah.”
“Ja, I can, once I become sufficiently aroused.”
“But what happens when you come?”
“The same thing that just happened to you: it intensifies about a thousand times.”
“Holy Shit.” But the way he says it is an expression of awe, not disgust.
“Shit is not holy, mein Freund. Gott is holy. Love is holy. Sex can be holy. But shit –“ I shake my head and grin – “No, I do not think that qualifies.”
He laughs and pulls my head down against his chest once more. We lie like that in silence until I almost think he has fallen asleep. I do not mind if he has. I am very comfortable here.