Part 5: Paradise, The Dragon's Tower

Chapter 28: The Waterfall

Remembering the waterfall massage from before, Ada shifted herself under the stream and purred happily as it beat down over her shoulders. It was heavy and soft. The water pressed her down into an even more relaxed space and she stretched her spine, then twisted over on her back like she was tucking up in bed.

The waterfall splashed on her stomach, and it felt more than just relaxing.

“Ohhh,” she purred, and wiggled a little further up, so that the water fell over the scales of her outer labia. The sensation was incredible, immediately pleasurable and arousing, a rumbling, pulsing vibration around all her most sensitive spots. “Ohhhhhh…”

Her head flopped back against the rocks, upside down, her tongue lolling out with a rivulet of drool already flowing down it, her feet curled up to her body.

The song suddenly ticked louder and she knew that Pasco had noticed.

He laughed teasingly. “Oh, does that feel good?”

“Yes…” she crooned. “So… good… I could lay like this… forever.”

“That’s a good little dragon,” he said, stroking the underside of her chin. 

She purred again.

“How about this. We take it nice… and slow… and easy. You just listen to the song and relax. When you’re ready, I’ll close the locket. Your head seems to stay in more or less the same place when you transform, so I think you’ll be alright, even with the water. If not, I can always open it again and take you to a safer place. How does that sound?”

His words piqued her arousal, but as she gave herself over to the song, her urgency drained away, leaving only pleasure. “That sounds… perfect… you’re… perfect… I love you.”

He stroked her chin again, his fingertips running over her scales and sending the most delightful vibrating sensation through her sensitive skin. “I love you too.”

Ada sighed back into pure relaxation, the vibrations of the waterfall sending a warm, intoxicating buzz through her whole body. She felt like she’d had two glasses of wine, which for a dragon, was probably closer to two barrels.

Pasco started to stroke himself and the song gently rose. Ada hitched a ride on his experience, just like when she’d clung to him as he climbed out of the water. He was so strong and yet so gentle, and she let his song fill her mind as the waterfall hummed.

Gradually, her breathing deepened and became more forceful. Her arousal was building and flashes of new intensity, new pleasure, rolled out from the drumming of the waterfall.

Her toes tingled. The tip of her tail curled. More drool flowed out over her tongue. She purred, adding to the sensation of buzzing and vibrating.

Pasco stroked himself and she watched. She felt deliciously attuned to his pleasure through the song, noticing which things quickened the tempo and which slowed it down, which notes lingered and which came hot and fast.

Now, she was the good dog. Leashed, but heeled obediently at her master’s ankles. She looked up at him, watching his every move, wanting only to please him.

Especially because his deepest desire was for them to both feel wonderful together. How could she not pour all of herself into making that happen? For him. For herself. For them both.

Pasco’s arousal built further and the song picked up, and a pre-orgasmic wave of pleasure flowed over Ada, out from the waterfall and all the way to the tip of her tongue, to the end of her tail. But she was not anywhere close to orgasm, even without the soothing effect of the music.

She had never had this kind of sensation, had never taken it this slowly, to know that she could experience a pre-orgasmic wave of pleasure so far out from her climax. Did this mean that the rest of the climb would feel like this? She hoped so.

“Pasco… it feels so good… I’m going to come so hard…”

“Are you close?”

“No… that’s the best… part…”

This seemed to renew Pasco’s resolve to take it as slowly as he could, and the next few bars of the song built with delicious slowness. Lingeringly and lovingly, he carried them higher. Wave after wave of heat and pleasure rippled out from the waterfall.

Ada’s toes started to curl and clench, but she dared not touch herself and break the spell. The tip of her tail flicked between the trees on the other side of the glade, and she started to pant past her lolling tongue.

Pasco, too, was breathing heavily, carefully controlling the pace.

Arousal built, but just the right amount. Just enough that Ada craved what was coming next, that she could feel the delight of anticipation.

But not so much that the delight became desperation or urgency. She kept her attention firmly on Pasco and his song. He had not actually had to deny her even once, this time. She required no tugs at her leash. She kept dutifully with his pace.

The climax built slowly, slowly, teetering at the edge as Pasco’s face softened with sheer bliss. He put a hand to the locket, preparing, but did not close it yet.

In a gentle, orchestral crescendo he came, the music surging in time with his orgasm, and Ada watched with delight at the way his seed flowed out over his tip, his shaft and his hand. She didn’t want that moment to ever end. She wanted him to come and come and come forever.

But she realized, as an incredible intensity of heat blossomed out from the rumbling of the waterfall, that it was she who was about to come and come forever.

As her roar made the very ground shake, sending flocks of birds fleeing from the trees around them, Pasco snapped the locket shut and the music went quiet.

Ada exhaled down towards the ground, human again, lying on the rock next to him. She panted for a moment before she pressed her legs together and clenched her sex, which sent her swirling into another climax.

As soon as she was fully dragon, her vulva was once again under the waterfall, and in delightful rumbles the waterfall pressed her down, down into her human form again.

And so all of Ada’s denied orgasms echoed through her then, the runes of the locket flashing even though it was closed. Until, finally, the waterfall tipped her over her last, luxurious climax. She came to rest on the rock next to Pasco, in a puddle of dragon drool and happiness.

She heaved a contented sigh, the feeling of buzzing intoxication still in her fingertips and toes, and she rolled towards Pasco where he sat, curling herself around him. He scooped her up so that she rested in his lap and he brushed her hair back from her face and over his legs and the rock, running his fingers through it as she lay there.

She nuzzled into the side of his stomach, curling up like a cat, and if she could have purred she would have. Instead, she just hummed with happiness every time she exhaled.

“I take it back,” she whispered. “I love sirens.”


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