The doors to Balmora’s Hlaalu council quarters burst open and shut behind two figures amidst a peal of giggles. The Dunmeri womer at the front desk glanced up with a bored expression, then resumed cleaning her already immaculate nails with a silvery lockpick.
A tall white tiger-striped Khajiit with a cheerful mer-like face pranced backwards across the room on the tips of her digitigrade toes, narrowly avoiding a low branch from the largish tree in the center of the room.
“Ma’zurah doesn't understand why Julan doesn't just poke her right back! Either ignore her or tell her you do not have to take that from her! She’s only doing it to get a rise out of you! And anyway, Ma’zurah is not just going to send her away.”
The second figure, a young looking dark-haired Dunmer wearing light armor and carrying a rather heavy pack followed her at a more sedate pace with a scowl affixed firmly on his face.
“Why can't we have some time alone, just the two of us? Why do your friends have to always be around? I mean, I’m just saying, maybe I want you to myself sometimes.”
With a light pirouette, the Khajiit reached the back of the room, opened a door, and began to descend a set of stairs, lighting a lantern on the wall with a puff of magic as the Dunmer closed the door behind them.
“Julan, if you had Ma’zurah to yourself all the time we would never get anything done.” She grinned, swung her own pack off her back, and rummaging through it, began to sort items into the chests that lined the wall at the bottom of the stairs. “Besides, does Julan really want to try to take on smugglers like we saw at the last place without Constance and Jasmine? Ma’zurah’s magic is good, but she would rather not give anything the chance to get a hit in. Anyway, Ma’zurah thinks it’s more fun this way!”
“Hmm…” Julan made a noncommittal noise. “It is safer, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. I swear, that little Bosmer is plotting ways to get me into trouble. I just know it.” Ma’zurah smirked and rolled her eyes. Julan sighed and swung his pack down next to her, and wearily began to unstrap his armor, balancing it in a messy pile on top of a barrel.
Leaving Ma’zurah to her work, he walked around a corner into the small apartment, and sat down fretfully on the end of a large bed. He glanced around the small room for something to do. Ma’zurah would probably be preoccupied with the packs for a while, and he was just starting to contemplate continuing the book he had been reading when a cheerful “Hey Julan!” sounded from somewhere inside his brain, making him jump.
“Sheo-fucking-gorath, Ma’zurah! Warn me next time you’re going to contact me by telepathy… Is there something you need?”
The voice in Julan’s head took on a purring quality. “Ma’zurah wanted to whisper naughty things to Julan in private where nobody can hear.” He blinked and felt his cheeks heat up, and was suddenly glad she couldn't see him blush.
“Oh… oh, I see...That sounds… good. We should definitely do that.”
Julan closed his eyes, and thought for a few seconds. “You know I can sense your breathing and heartbeat getting faster through this thing. This is really turning me on... I want to touch you for real. I want to--”
A sudden thought made his eyes fly open. “Sheogorath! I just thought… I bet my mother has a spy-link on this thing! Gah! Shut up, shut up, shut--” He wrenched the telepathy ring off his finger, severing the link.
A peal of laughter rang from around the corner, and Ma’zurah skipped into view wearing a short airy pink dress that Julan had never seen before. She twirled in front of him, causing the dress to flutter about her hips, revealing thighs coated in silky striped fur. Julan’s breath hitched and he shifted slightly against a sudden tightness in his pants as he realized she wasn't wearing anything at all underneath.
“So. Julan was saying? You want to what?” She blinked coyly at him, and sashayed forward, depositing herself in his lap, straddling his legs.
Julan was suddenly shy, and couldn't figure out where to put his hands. He knew she could probably feel his half-hard erection through his pants, and closed his eyes against the warmth that was flaring all the way from his groin to the tips of his ears.
“I, uh…” He licked his lips. “Oh Mephala!” he groaned as she suddenly ground herself against him. His hands flew to her hips and his eyes locked onto hers.
“Go on...” She leaned forward and pressed her entire torso up against him, purring in his ear, her whiskers tickling the side of his face. “What does Julan want to do to Ma’zurah?”
“Oh f-fuck…” he bucked his hips involuntarily and shuddered as he felt her rough tongue trace the edge of his ear up to its tip. “Gods, Ma’zurah! You’re not going to get an answer if you keep doing that!” He pulled back slightly to look at her.
She smirked at him, and he leaned in to press his lips to hers. Her mouth opened immediately to give his tongue entry, and her arms circled his neck and pulled him close. He smiled into the kiss as he felt the rumble of her purr against his chest, and he pulled her hips harder against his erection, grinding himself against her until she moaned and he could feel the fabric of his pants beginning to soak through. He broke the kiss grinning.
She groaned in frustration and made to pull him back in, but he ducked his head, avoiding her, and slid his hands up her thighs, slowly lifting her dress to reveal the short wet fur that curled along the edges of her slit, and the small but functional penis that protruded from between the top of her folds. She was aroused, and the tip of her cock bobbed slightly with her quickened breath against her soft white-furred belly. Drinking in the sight of her, Julan lifted the dress over her head, and tossed it somewhere behind her without looking. He revelled in how the fine white fur that covered most of her body darkened into wet grey curls along her slit, then thinned to reveal smooth pink flesh along the shaft of her small cock.
Glancing up at her, he searched her eyes for permission, and smiling, she gave him a small nod. Julan slid a finger between her folds and up along the underside of her cock, leaving a slick trail along his finger’s path. He moaned softly at how wet she already was, and brought his finger to his mouth to taste her. She bit her lip. He hummed in appreciation as he sucked the digit clean. Catching her darkening gaze, he spread her further and pressed his still-clothed cock along the whole length of her slit, and bucked his hips, further soaking his pants. Her mouth parted slightly, her breath caught, and she gave him a desperate look and began pawing at the laces of his pants.
Laughing breathlessly at her eagerness Julan took the hint, lifted his shirt over his head, and began to assist her with the laces of his pants, but she placed a palm flat against his chest, and pushed him over backwards on the bed. Freeing his cock from its confinement herself, Ma’zurah gave Julan a sharp-toothed predatorial grin that made him shiver, and placed his tip against her soaked entrance. She began to sink down onto him at a painfully slow pace. Julan gritted his teeth, grabbed her hips again, and attempted to control his urge to buck his cock further into her before she was ready. It was her turn to laugh breathlessly at his eagerness, but she acquiesced and sank down until his cock was hilted fully inside her. Both of them closed their eyes and groaned in appreciation as they gave themselves a few seconds to adjust to the sudden onslaught of sensation.
Julan slid one hand from her hip to her cock to feel at the base of it where they were joined. He looked down and took in the sight of their coupling, his grey skin covered with a sparse scattering of dark hair that mixed with the wet curls around her entrance in stark contrast. He gave her cock a short stroke. “Gods, Ma’zurah… You feel so good! You should have been named after Mephala instead…” He looked up into her eyes, catching the lust in her gaze. His brow knotted in response, and he moved his hips to stir his cock inside of her, breath catching again.
Ma’zurah leaned over and peppered Julan’s face with kisses as she began to ride him in earnest. Julan reached up with both hands and palmed Ma’zurah’s small breasts, feeling their hardened pink tips rub against his palms as she rose and fell above him. “Oh sweet clan mother Mafala give Ma’zurah strength! M-more!” She mewled against his neck and pressed her chest into his hands with ardour. He laughed breathily, and nipped at the edge of the nearest tufted mer-like ear, causing Ma’zurah to gasp.
Julan caught his arms around her back and pressed her to his chest, then rolled over on top of her, positioning her under him so that her legs encircled his waist and her cock was trapped firmly between their torsos. He propped himself up on his elbows with his hands cradling her shoulder blades and looked into her wide blue feline eyes with his half-lidded red ones as he thrust into her shallowly. “Gods… What is it about you? I’m going to figure it out… just you wait…”
She giggled and he leaned in to kiss her. All impatience, she nipped and sucked at his lower lip, half purring, half growling, and tried to suppress a grin at the raw sound of desire he made in the back of his throat.
Julan’s eyes were closed, and his world was rapidly narrowing to a series of intense sensations, crowding out any rational thought he might have had. He felt her soft fur against his chest, her small warm breasts pressed up against him; her long striped tail lashing against the bed, occasionally brushing against his legs; her pink wet nose pressed into his cheek; her supple lips and coarse tongue eagerly engaging him in a rough, wet dance; her whiskers tickling the sides of his face while he kissed her; her cock rubbing between their two bodies as he thrust. It all still felt new and foreign to him, but oh so welcome all the same. He felt her tangle one hand in his hair and lightly drag the claws of her other hand across his back. Her thighs tightened around his hips, pulling him deeper into her. He pumped into her faster in response, breathing hard.
One overriding concern bubbled to the surface of the foggy haze that had descended on him: he wanted her, and he wanted her to know it. He tried to organize his thoughts against the wave of pressure that was building inside him; to draw back and tell her how beautiful she was, how happy he was to be with her, but he couldn't tell if she understood him when he broke off the kiss, panting, and murmured the words against her neck. Four hells, he couldn't even tell if the words he spoke were in Cyrodiilic, Dunmeris, or his childhood Ahemmusa dialect of Velothi.
It quickly became irrelevant, because the pressure had mounted to bursting, and it was all he could do to bury his cock as deep as he could into her, hold her tightly, press his face against her shoulder, and moan her name like a mantra.
When the rushing in his ears receded and the aftershocks died down, he drew back exhaustedly to smile at her, feeling a rush of affection. She flashed him a brilliant smile, but continued trying to move against him, and he belatedly realized she hadn’t come with him.
“Fuck, I'm sorry! Here, let me--” He quickly dismounted her and got off the bed, pulled her to the edge of the bed, and knelt between her legs.
“Oh… yes please! Ma’zurah was so close!” she panted, propping herself up on her elbows.
He grinned up at her and turned his attention to her cock. It was a little under four inches long, which was, in Julan’s opinion, perfect for this sort of activity. He gave it an experimental lick, and Ma’zurah squeaked. Julan smirked.
Determined to get her off properly, Julan slid two fingers inside her and tried to repeat the motion she had shown him she liked best. He made a beckoning motion that caressed her front wall, and took her cock into his mouth at the same time. She gasped.
“Oh sweet Mother Mara! Ma’zurah will not last long if you keep that up, Julan!”
Julan tried swirling his tongue around the head of her cock, then up and down the smooth underside. If his last experience was anything to go by, then he loved making her fall apart like this. Her cries felt as satisfying to him as his own climax. He took her into the back of his throat, and deliberately swallowed.
“Mafala! Vara ajo! Oh gods, yes! Kynarethi, Alkosh, S’rendarr, jat! F-fuck! You feel so good! Oh… Julan!”
It was all Julan could do to keep from grinning at her praise; he didn't want to break his pace. Still leaning on one elbow, she ran the fingers of one hand through his hair, not quite pushing him down onto her cock, clearly trying to restrain herself. Julan tried to keep a steady pace. Her head was thrown back and she was rapidly turning incoherent, and the only word out of her mouth he could recognize anymore was his own name.
“J-jat! Jer ras ahziss rhoj, Julan… Jer nezal opa do! Jat… jat… ah… Julan! Vara ajo… Julan, Julan, Julan!”
Her cries descended into gasps, and she started holding her breath in an attempt to chase down her climax faster. Without slowing his pace, Julan reached up with the hand not currently occupied inside her and rolled the tip of one pink nipple between his fingers. It was enough. Julan heard her gasp and could feel Ma’zurah’s internal muscles grip his fingers inside her in the beginnings of orgasm.
Just then, a short figure with curly blond hair and tanned skin walked distractedly around the corner. “Hey Ma’zurah, I--” She stopped short and clapped a hand over her mouth upon catching sight of the pair. Ma’zurah was too far gone to do anything more than squeak and clutch Julan’s hair harder upon registering Constance’s presence. Julan took the hint and continued his ministrations without looking up as Constance beat a hasty retreat, but he was pretty sure he heard her giggle before she left the apartment.
He pushed that out of his mind though, because Ma’zurah was coming in his mouth and wailing his name, and--oh! it was so sweet to feel her shudder under his touch. He drank her down greedily until, gasping for breath, she pulled his head up.
“Too much!” she panted.
“Sorry.” He grinned, not sorry at all, and removed his fingers from inside her. He looked up at her, made eye contact, and licked them clean, smirking.
Ma’zurah groaned and flopped backwards on the bed. “You are impossible, Julan.” She threw one arm over her face.
Julan chuckled and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and moved to the bed next to her. She curled into his side immediately, purring loudly, tail tucked into a loose loop atop her thigh. He tucked one arm under her head and leaned in to kiss her cheek, but she turned and kissed him full on the mouth. She gave a happy sigh.
Settling tiredly onto the bed, Julan realized something was digging into his back, and squirming to remove it, he discovered his telepathy ring. He snorted a laugh, and held it up for Ma'zurah to see.
“You have anything to say for yourself? First time you decide to use these things, and it’s to seduce me?”
She giggled and nuzzled at his neck. “Ma’zurah just likes you! And it worked didn't it?” She glanced up at him and gave him a smug smirk.
Julan laughed ruefully. “I suppose it did…” He slipped the ring back onto his finger and began stroking the fur of her back.
Ma’zurah sat up suddenly. “Oh! We should go find Constance before she goes gossiping to Jasmine!”
Julan groaned and ran a hand down his face. “Give me a minute. Ugh, how do you still have energy?”
Ma’zurah was already up and scrounging around for her lost dress. “Orgasms sometimes just make this one hyper!” she chirped. “You know, happy and full of life!”
Julan groaned, grabbed a pillow, and stuffed it over his face.
Ma’zurah pounced on him and stole the pillow. “Get up! Get up!”
Julan just lay there. “You see what I have to deal with?” he asked the ceiling.
“Ma’zurah will get you fooood!” she sang.
“Oh. Well. So long as there’s food.” He sat up and gave her a lopsided grin.
The next few minutes found the both of them up and dressed, and walking toward the Eight Plates hand in hand. The bored Dunmeri womer at the front desk didn't even glance up this time as they passed through the lobby.