Dizzy-tail trots effortlessly out ahead of you, being in much better physical condition. As you watch him from behind, you cannot get over a dragon's mixture of feline, canine, equine, reptilian, avian and humanoid characteristics.
Your lover's rump is certainly not as wide as that of a terrestrial herbivore like a horse, but it has similar patterns of muscular definition on a narrower canvas, featuring the same familiar geographical patterns. It is something like what you would envision a unicorn's posterior as being like, as dense with muscle as a stud stallion and yet preternaturally sleek and compact. Whenever you have seen Dizzy-tail somersault himself into the air, you have seen those muscles at work, rippling majestically as they help heave his weight fluidly into the sky.
His hips are set like those of a greyhound. They move like those of a greyhound. They are slim like those of a greyhound. Surprisingly for a winged creature, they are built for sustaining moderate speeds over tremendous distances rather than moving quickly at a sprint. They move in a pendulous, languid, high-geared and liquid sort of motion. As you are experiencing in your own body, they can go almost tirelessly for a long while. Watching their ease of motion is like how felt feels against the fingertips.
His lower legs, though, have a lot of the same gearing as a cat, his foot being bent convexly in relation to the ground. This makes sense, considering that a dragon would have to be adept at taking falls from tremendous heights whenever their wings might fail or they just have to make quick landings. Like a cat, they would have to be able to fall from an enormous height without taking any injury. They would have to be able to hit the ground running, not spend a while recovering, so the springy resilience in them is almost incredible.
As his hindpaws at the ends of his feet go up and down, you realize that they are one of his strangest--although curiously logical--yet most oddly erotic characteristics. Seeming to be a mixture of avian and human (or rodent?), they are incredibly dexterous things that you have personally experienced grabbing tightly onto you to keep you from falling to an untimely demise. They would also be good at lifting and carrying prey. They are almost hand-like in their structure with partially opposable thumbs and shockingly soft-to-the-touch and yet thick and meaty pads on them. Every time Dizzy picks up a foot, you feel like he is waving at you, and you want to wave back.
The tail swaying behind him is certainly that of a lizard, and you know first-hand that it really has a life much of its own. You wonder vaguely if there is a separate brain in a dragon's hindquarters operating it, since your own moves about quite a lot without you being conscious of it. With each step, it sways gently in a mesmerizing sort of pattern. You figure, while dragons are in the air, it would act as a rudder, steering them and guiding them like the tail of a kite. Dizzy also uses it to assist him in take-offs, you have seen. For you, it mostly just keeps bringing your attention back to his ass.
Your mind, at some point, gets lost in thoughts of poetry.
Sky of blue
Shining disc of light
Majesty
Waving grass
A rabbit bounds into view
Tranquility
As you trot along the gently sloping kobold-trail, your mind continues along this vein for a while, but slowly, it evolves from haiku-inspired three-liners to some truly vulgar limericks.
And though Dizzy-tail's ass may well be
The most beautiful thing one could see,
He's got balls full of spunk,
And with such a big junk,
I am hoping he'll put it in me
For a stud-stallion surely he is
With his gonads all heavy with jizz
And his cock has a thing
Called a medial ring
That will make a drake want to be his
You don't slow this down, either. Your rhymes get racier and racier (and cheesier) as you go, daydreaming fondly about this hunk, and as you descend slowly into the gorge, where fresh tributaries have widened the stream into an active enough torrent to cast up a thin mist, both your hide and his slowly become wet in the increasingly humid atmosphere, only adding to his attractiveness and further stirring the interest of your cock.
Such a well-maintained trail makes for a most pleasant and comfortable walk, too. The ground underfoot is composed largely of a type of soft peat that doesn't adhere to the flesh but slides cleanly off, really scraping the flesh clean instead of smudging it, so it is a comfortable sort of environment, for the most part. There are also plenty of protruding rocks, and as you continue moving down the trail, you start finding, more and more, that there are places where large rocks have apparently been dragged into the path to make steps in places where the trail becomes steep enough that you might slide perilously down it. At one point, someone has made an actual stair out of stacked pieces of shale. Along level bits of ground, there are places where the shrubbery at its vestiges are almost like transplants from a fine garden, and they succeed in holding back wild growth from inhibiting the path. Each leg of the trail has its own unique character, almost as if someone in a position of leadership had divided up the trail into sections and challenged several groups of determined, strong-backed workers to make their own sections of trail the most uniquely beautiful, making a sense of unity and joint strength emerge from the competition.
{{This is a civilization}} you say solemnly, gazing around you.
Dizzy-tail frowns back at you, surprised to hear you speak after such a long while as you catch up to him. {{I'm not sure how you figure}} he says. {{I see no buildings. I see no magically sculpted cathedrals, and I see no mage-fire art on the walls. It looks like a wild place. We're out in nature}}.
You shake your head. {{It is nature}} you admit, {{but it is tamed, educated, and beautified nature. Nature taught what nature can be. We're in a park, Dizzy, almost a garden}}.
He licks behind your ears almost as a reprimand, but he does it with too much affection to really pass for such. Without askance, he mounts up his forepaws on your back and kneads at the muscles in your back, purring softly. {{If we're in a garden, you silly, green drake, then you must be the fountain. I wonder if I can make you do more than drip like I have been smelling you drip for the past two miles?}}.
You snap your teeth up at him playfully. {{How about you put your pecker where you talker is?}} you challenge him, lifting up your tail and wriggling your haunches teasingly.
Taking you up on the offer, he navigates his hindquarters around to your backside, still kneading your back with his forepaws, and he snuggles himself comfortably against you. He stretches his neck far forward to nuzzle on your neck, and as he pulls himself close, you feel his cock thwapping against your slick balls. After a few moments of grinding and bouncing his cock against you while kissing every part of your neck he can reach--being slightly smaller than yourself in spite of being far more muscular--he latches his forepaws nice and firm around your hips and shoves the flared head of his cock against your entrance.
Anticipating the shock of penetration, you start struggle instinctively, your nostrils flaring as your paws scuffle against the ground, but your young stud takes your neck in his jaws, pulling your hips tightly and plowing forward. You yelp, and you see stars for a few moments as your mind whirls with alarm, sending you briefly into a haze.
As the haze clears away and your mind comes back to the present, you realize he's gotten a fourth of himself in with one thrust. Dear Hecate's flaming purple heat, are you getting loose! You take advantage of the pause to catch your breath and to brace yourself for his next thrust, your hindpaws scrabbling for purchase in the peat.
You feel his muzzle close around your cockhead. {{You sure do drip a lot}} he chastises you. {{It's hard to believe you're not getting dehydrated with all the fluid you're spilling}}.
You flush hotly, but you retort, {{Well, how are you not passing out with all your blood rushing to that grower you've got there? Were you sucking blood from my neck earlier?}}
He purrs, triggering your own chest to purr thunderously. {{I love you so much, my pretty Amber-fields}} he cries into your thoughts as he takes your cock in his throat to its hilt.
Reflexively, your hips try to buck into his throat, and on the recoil, you shove your ass farther around his cock, bringing you right to his medial ring. You have to have it in you, you realize. {{Fuck me, Dizzy-tail. Fuck me!}} You go down on your shoulder and curl around to nuzzle and kiss on his snout. {{I want all of you}} you whisper to him.
His pale blue snout comes away from your cock, and he locks jaws around your jaws of dark green in a deep, full kiss. {{I will, my darling. Even if nobody else understands, I want you to have me in you. I want you mine forever}}. He breaks the kiss and licks the top of your snout. {{I love you}} he whispers before rising up to get his stance right.
{{I love you}} you echo. You take your own cock in your muzzle, and you start nursing on yourself. You're not sure which of you is larger. He feels pretty big, but your maw can handle quite a bit more than your backside. It's amazing, but having your muzzle full of cock distracts you from any unpleasant aspect of having your ass fucked, yet it magnifies the pleasure. You gulp your own copious pre-seed hungrily as your mind regresses to that of a hatchling.
He takes your hips firmly and gives a hard shove, forcing your cock deep into your throat. {{Take THAT one for being cute}} he says gleefully on the first thrust, and {{this one for making me love you}} on the second. {{Here is one for staring at my ass adoringly, and I HEARD you muttering some of those limericks, you pervert}}. On the third, his medial ring pops into you, and his hindpaws scrabble at the earth as he keeps driving forward, plunging to the hilt. His hips slam into you violently several times as he he begins to climax, and you feel a heat at your back as he begins to send up a victorious plume of fire.
You bay and whine like a hound around your own cock, and you almost emasculate yourself biting down before you realize you're not quite ready to try being a hen yet, restraining yourself. Dizzy-tail's medial ring repeatedly scrapes savagely over your prostate, and the organ starts spasming violently. Your hindlegs go shooting out straight and rigid as your body is rocked by orgasm. Seed from your own cock shoots in massive waves straight down your gullet.
As your orgasms pass, you both fall on your sides giggling, his big flaccid cock plopping out of you. Wave after wave of afterglow is washing over you, and everything seems to be so funny. {{Why are we laughing so hard?}} he asks. {{This never happened when we were fucking on the surface}}.
{{Well, it was never this good on the surface}} you answer. You are first to stand back up, and you look at your beautiful, blue lover still lying on the ground. His body is perfectly elegant in every way. The love inside him is perfect. You can't believe this angel of light has come into your life. {{I love you so much}} you say.
{{And I you}} he answers. Without standing up, he just looks around for a moment before answering, seeming several times like he is going to start to say something but stopping short. He just looks at everything in wonder, seeming like a child just seeing the world anew. {{Perhaps you were right}} he says, finally. {{There is a special kind of magic in this place}} he says. {{It's a magic no dragon knows about}}.
{{Magic?}} you ask. Your skeptical instincts kick in, and you look around. {{Well, I can see the paws of civilization here}} you say slowly. {{I don't know how to recognize magic}} you admit, feeling blind. {{If I ever knew any, I must have forgotten. I only have my human life to remember, and I am starting to think that being human was just some strange dream}}.
He stands up and walks around a few times, spreading his wings out like a pair of arms and using them to feel the misty air. {{You felt it before I did, though}} he says, sounding chagrined. {{Whatever human civilization is--which I am starting to believe is really your story--it is a powerful magic.
{{Humans have no magic}} you object. {{Technology, maybe...}}.
{{But is "technology" civilization?}} he asks. He gestures around him with his wing. {{Is THIS technology?}}
You shake your head firmly. {{No}} you admit. By itself, you know--images of mustard gas victims flashing through your brain--that technology without civilization is worse than barbarity, but you quickly cloak that thought, feeling ashamed for the race you were born into. {{Civilization is...}} you try to think of how to describe it to a creature that has only ever known magic, but you are at a loss for words.
He looks around himself in wonder, his eyes wide. {{Civilization is magic}} he says, {{powerful, powerful magic}}.
Your conversation is interrupted by a strange moaning accompanied by the sound of beating and clacking. You turn your ears down the path into the gorge, and you realize that it's a singing chant and getting closer. Someone is coming, you know not whom. From the sounds of many feet, it sounds like a whole procession, and the clacking and beating might be weapons. {{We've got company}} you say nervously.
You...