Author's Note: This is smut and assumes you're over 18 in reading it.
        Tags: Pathfinder, Kingmaker, human male teen x lizardfolk female teen, teasing, courting, femdom, vaginal, first times
 
	The humans claimed a lot of land up north from the great Candlemere. Some of the elders took concern to that. But the great ruins that other humans took as shelter, from which they reigned the lake-less fields north with their avarice and left fear and blood in their wake led by their Stag Lord, have grown into a vast bastion from which the new rulers reign with fairness and with food in their wake after killing the northern tyrant, and migrated their people to a new city.

	The humans and the dwarves, just six of them, came to the tribal hunting grounds, just for the sake of exploration. While the Narlmarches lizardfolk tribe could have cut them down, they saw that they came as ambassadors and traders, and ultimately even as liberators, when they cast out the false spirits from the lizards’ village. The elders, too, took concern to that. But without the bloodlust of the false spirits from the Candlemere, the tribe could stop waging war with the other lizardfolk and make repairs to the other tribes deeper in the marshes past Narl and into the Sloughs of Hooktongue.

	And while repairs were costly, the Narlmarches lizardfolk sowed apologies in fresh meat and fish, in clay, stone and bone. They reaped forgiveness and brotherhood, and a start of peace. That, too, the elders took concern to. Which is about the point where everyone in the tribe stopped listening to old lizards cold to compassion, blind to the changes that the humans and the dwarves brought. That is when the humans were allowed to settle a stone dwelling at the mouth of the river Murque, a simple trading post for the dwarves to feed and supply their initial forays into the swamp and the great stone ruins they called their homes generations past.

	Of course, that was all before Hara’s time. Before the rivers south of Restov would house great kingdoms that the Swordlords never could imagine growing strong together.

	She hatched from her father the chieftain’s clutch when the dwarves first settled in Vesket’s Fell. Firstborn and the largest of the clutch, she killed those of her siblings that dared attack and consume her. She would stay the largest and the strongest. The young lizardfolk grew up knowing well their guests, and their children. The humans being known for friendliness and how outgoing they are, the dwarves for being gruff but ever gracious. All squishy, stubby, warm-blooded people. Chieftain Vesket’s women encouraged their young to be among them. And so they grew up with the warm-bloods’ young. Played with them. Wrestled, fought, swam with them. They never ventured as far as the lizards did into the lake, but the mammals lasted much longer than them. While the lizards were catching heat on a stone or a clay shore, the warm-blood boys and girls still were out in the water as if the heat never left their bones.

	And then there’s Taric. Always stood off to the side, needing so much coaxing to even get into the water. Friendly to a fault. Always gathered up the meats and the fish from the village for everyone to enjoy in the evenings spent together. A merchant’s son, from the city that once was the castle of a bandit lord. A bit on the meek side, but very pleasant company. And always so warm in the evenings when everyone ate and huddled up until everybody had to return to their nests. Taric struggled and shied away when the lizardfolk youths clung around everyone else, and Hara loved how he squirmed when she wrapped herself around his back or waist. He wasn’t brash, he wasn’t big, he wasn’t very strong. He had no way to push her off. He was very mindful and very charitable and had a streak of mischief on him – one that particularly showed when he sneaked some dwarven ale in on the group for them to enjoy. 

	Hara liked him a lot. Even though she grew up ever larger, ever more fierce. Her fins became the envy of her female clutchmates, though her father was somewhat disappointed she could no longer serve as a concubine to trade off to another chieftain deeper in the marshes. But she still grew up into a tall, imposing, and ever more capable guardian of the village. It’s hard to imagine a sleek, lithe female lizardfolk to grow into a match for any male in the tribe, barrel-bodied and with limbs thick with muscles to go with them. Her dark blue scales contrast heavily with the lighter tones of the underside of her limbs and the front of her chest, or the rosy red of her fins and her neck’s scaly beard. Her back and skull are lined with sharp looking spines that trail all the way down to the tip of her tail, unbroken and unmarred. Even if she couldn’t be a concubine, she certainly proved to be a fetching specimen of her kind.

	Over the years where Taric began to grew more sinewy from his labours at the storehouse, Hara started to feel very, very warm indeed. He grew more lean and muscular himself, and a lovely cover of soft hair started to grow along his jawline. His skin had taken on a lovely shade of bronze, and his skin lacked the scars and marks of life above ground from hunting or travels. His hair had grown from light brown to an almost vibrant shade of red. His face often shone with the perspiration of a long day’s labours.

	While the youths long since had stopped their swims, wrestling, their playing, Hara’s games turned more grown-up. She sought to hunt him. Court him. Little remarks, at first. In passing, after a hot day where he worked in the storehouses and carried heavy loads of wares to the market, or to the trade carts. That she could help him out with and let her claws brush his smooth, sun-touched fingers and knuckles. A little secret between him and her.

	“You taste so nice after a day’s labour,” she hissed enticingly down at the human lad.

	It’s adorable how he flinched and tensed when she ground her muscular body closer to him, her throat rumbling in affectionate appreciation. And then to taste not just his sweat, but a hint of fear too.

	Of course, to Taric, Hara sounded more like a caiman claiming territory and about ready to bound forward and take a bite from his side.

	That didn’t stop her at all, mind. Every day after she always could sneak in on him with something wholly inappropriate to tell, ever pressing deeper into his personal space, her body pressing warmly into his own sweat-covered arms.

	“You are so comfy and soft, you know.”

	Taric swallowed nervously, trying to push the pushy lizardgirl back from him. “Hara, you’re no longer my size. I can barely get work done with you around me!”

	“Then don’t. We can get work done when I’ve warmed up against you. It’s quicker” she declared pointedly. Her claws began to trail up from his chest to his neck, his jawline, feeling the soft red and brown curls twisting outwards from his chin.

	“Quicker would be for you to let me go so I could get to work, Hara,” Taric hissed.

	Hara slowly hissed out, her flicking tongue touching his cheek in passing, tasting a bead of sweat on his skin. “You feel warmer though.” Squeeze. “Always. When I touch you.”

	He finally managed to pull free, breathing heavily and anxiously. But Hara could taste in his fear something else too. She made no further push to him, instead helping him out with his tasks. And giving a few friendly bumps against his arms and sides in passing as she was wont to do.

	Gifts followed in the week or so thereafter. Usually it’s males giving small treasures to females they fancy. Hara saw it happen plenty of times to females not part of her father’s harem. So she emulated them. Fresh kills from the woods just past the river, north. Rabbits with their necks snapped, without as much as a speck of blood marring their pretty brown coats, to show her care. Little strings of leather with turkey and weasel skulls carefully threaded through the little curves and arches of their bones (and just imagine how hard that must be with thick, unyielding claws at the tips of your fingers!) to show her skill. And of course that boar’s tusk she carefully carved up and hollowed out for his favourite ale. To show she minded what he loved.

	How she loved watching the confusion on his face, wearily looking around for the males of the tribe as if they’d play a prank on him. And pry to him about a secret admirer in his daily work, keeping to press into his personal space. To wrap her thick arms around his body and slowly grind herself against his side. Hara had a delicious thrill to avoiding his questions about who could have given him the meats and the pelts and the talismans.

	One afternoon, during his feeding of the horses at the carts, Taric suddenly could feel the strong hands of someone grip his shoulders. He flinched, his heart beginning to beat ever faster as the looming shadow behind him filled out and towered over his head. 

“You should wear the gifts left to you, you know,” Hara intoned with a guttural low tone trailing off, as if implying to know more.

	Not that a human being could rightly tell with a lizard – that kind of growling could easily be construed as a low threat, as well. His skin grew moist with perspiration, which soon was tasted by a muscular, serpentine tongue lashing across his jugular. Thick, muscular arms wrapped themselves around his chest as Hara lowered herself on her haunches behind him, rumbling into his ear. Chills ran up and down his spine, he was shivering. But he felt oddly very, very hot, as well.

	“I-I should feed the animals, Hara,” he struggled to say.

	“I am just saying, is all,” Hara softly hissed to him, stroking his jawline with her clawed fingers on her left hand. She left, but not without soaking in his warmth, tasting his fearful sweat tinged with excitement.

	Hara was very much pleased, however, to find out Taric finally started to wear the bone jewelry. It only made her swell with pride, that she had him hook, line and sinker. The necklace marked him as hers, she felt. So she became more bold. And certainly more saucy, too.

	Another surprise visit to the store at noon soon had Taric caught between a barrel and Hara’s body when she made another attempt at his personal space. Taric was already quick to try and push her off. But his barely audible mutters caught in his throat when he felt the moist, plump flesh under her tail press into his hip. Taric slowly inched his eyes up as he looked into Hara’s slightly agape, toothy maw, who rumbled softly against the touches his clothing offered to her naked cloaca.

	“You’re wearing a very pretty necklace,” Hara rumbled with a rolling pant to her voice.

	To Taric, she sounded almost like a tired, hungry gator, truth be told.

	“A-Aye. ‘s What I was given, yeah? Y-You told me to wear the gifts, right?” He was shaking where he stood. His breathing began to hitch. All he could see was flesh and teeth and it frightened and excited him to a degree he had no idea it existed.

	Hara slowly pushed him back against the barrel, angling his groin to her own. Her slick vent ground down into his pants as she casually lowered herself to face him, holding her arms around him and planted on the top of the barrel.

	“Do you... like? The gift?” Hara almost squeaked the words out, her breath hot on his flushed and moist skin.

	Taric was thankful for the interruption of his father and an associate entering the warehouse, slinking away from underneath the large lizardfolk woman. She, too, rose shortly after, a little miffed about the distraction, but feeling vindicated about just how far she could go. She tightened the muscles of her lower stomach and squeezed the base of her tail closer against her lower body until her red flesh was hidden between the scutes of her groin again. The merchant’s son and the chieftain’s daughter acted as if nothing at all had happened while both aided Taric’s father retrieving him some choice barrels of ale. But Hara’s fins were upright and flushed with colour. Oh yes, she felt very much vindicated.

	Things changed, however, when there was sight nor sound of Taric. At first it was just perhaps a slow day, but the carts arrived as normal, the empty barrels needing to be switched with cold ale again. Hara sought Taric out at his father’s warehouse, at the store, at the edges of the lake. She asked her fellows guarding the town, she asked the parents of the lad. None could tell her rightly just where he had gone. Heck, Taric’s father even was pretty abrasive about her curiosity and her pushiness. Shrinking away from the trade house, Hara worried. Had she gone too far over her amorous approaches on the lad? Did he leave without a word and instructed his parents to speak not a word?

	Hara cursed her terrible luck as the day passed, the night as well. One day turned to two, to three, to four. Despondent, Hara sought the outskirts of Vesket’s Fell, just staring out across the Candlemere. Warriors are proud. They show no weakness. So Hara, already fearing the worst about heartbreak, sought to show no emotion, huddling up against the clay bed of the lakeside. She pressed her legs up against her chest, hugging her arms closely around them, making herself as small as she could, staring out and feeling miserable. There she stayed, warming up, but feeling very, very cold inside.

	She didn’t hear the moist splats of boots on wet clay and sand approach in the late afternoon, just staring at the sun setting over the lake. It could have cost her her life, surely, if someone just sneaked up to her with ill intent. After all, she didn’t even so much as reach out for her father’s sword, discarded in the mud in its scabbard besides her. Instead, however, a warmth pressed against her right arm.

	The lizardgirl’s pale gold right eye inched to the side and downwards, catching the fire-haired human lad sitting beside her on his haunches, actually pressing up against her side. She swallowed nervously, for once caught flat-footed about what to say or what to do.

	Taric gently reached up to a long ear fin hanging limply from the side of her head. He supported it in a palm, slowly tracing his thick fingers across the sensitive scales of the inside of her fin, until he gently pried a bone adorning her ear. Hara turned her head just slightly, lowering her ear fin against his touches. Taric didn’t stop feeling around the enlarged hole in her fin until he fastened something heavy and warm into her fin, slowly letting her fin free from his grip.

	Hara reached up at her fin, feeling for the item Taric left her. It was angular, metallic and firm, unlike anything she had worn before. She could feel a rounded band around the bottom of her fin, she could feel strips of metal curling into one another for articulation, and a glassy, cold stone set in the centre of the quadragonal metal hanging from her ear.

	“You’re wearing a very pretty earring,” Taric said, sounding most pleased with himself. “Stay put, Hara. They come in pairs.”

	So she sat, feeling his warm body brush with the entirety of his right side across her back and shoulders, mindful of her spines, until he was at her left side, removing a piece of bone and a piece of bark alike. Another heavy weight soon was added to her other fin, which he gently held up in his palm even as Hara turned to look at what he held.

	Hara swallowed nervously, her throat feeling parched, her body feeling numb with cold. She could only make out so much, but she could tell the yellowish metal was not pure silver, but not quite gold either. And the stone looked pretty and brown. She reached up to her left and right fins, stroking her thumbs across the jewels Taric had given her.

	“’s Electrum. Inlaid with an agate each.” The merchant’s son softly chuckled, embracing Hara from behind. She sank back against him, shivering with a chill running down her spine and tail. “Do you like? The gift?”

	The lizardfolk and the human shared a moment’s laughter together, both realizing just how silly it was to mirror each other’s words from before. Hara reached back behind her, stroking with her index finger and thumb across the young man’s jawline, feeling for his thin, curly beard.

	“I do,” she finally said, her tail relaxing and curling into the clay beneath herself.

	“Good. You should wear the gifts left to you.”

	The two shared another awkward chuckle. Hara slowly uncoiled from her seated position, planting her feet and her left hand into the clay, pressing herself bodily against the warm, warm body of the lad. She hissed softly, nudging the back of her neck against the side of his.

	“You’re so warm against me,” Hara rumbled softly, the chill getting to her voice, making it softer than her usual deep tones.

	“Then you stay with me until we can get you warmed up, aye?” Taric responded, his hands wandering across her back and her chest. “How long you been here for, Hara?”

	Hara let her fingers wander along his throat and neck until she edged her claw against the leather strap of the much simpler necklace he wore around his neck. Her heart skipped a beat when she realized he still wore the jewelry she had given him, slowly inching her head back towards him again.

	“Until I felt cold.”

	Taric reached up with a hand to clutch a thick spine protruding from the back of her head, gently pulling it down to bare her neck to him some. He rubbed his warm cheek into her throat, and slowly let his hand wander against the spines of her beard and her throat’s frill.

	“Think you can stand? I can start us a fire,” he spoke soft, low, warmly.

	Hara nodded after him, groggily getting to her feet with some help from the merchant’s son. 

	The old clearing they often had used as children for a fire still was free, and there was some dry wood a ways nearby. Taric dragged some thick branches over, collecting them together with dried leaves. A spark from the tinderbox on his person soon set the leaves alight, and soon after, the fire began to creep along the upright branches set in the old fire circle. Hara set herself down on the dirt and grass, leaning forwards toward the slowly rising flames. Taric settled at her left side, his broad right hand clutching around the back of Hara’s left. She wasn’t joking when she said she was cold, the air barely felt cooler than her own hide. So for a while, they just sat like that, hand in hand. Taric reached over with his right hand to hold Hara’s with both hands, squeezing the shivering lizardgirl’s hand tenderly between his palms. His fingertips made just the smallest motions across her thicker scales up top of her hand, and the finer, leathery hide underneath. He only stopped when Hara finally squeezed his right hand into her palm, leaning her large chin over the top of his head.

	He let go. She carefully wrapped her heavy limbs around his shoulders and chest, pulling his back up against her own chest. A shiver went down his spine, the hairs on his limbs and the back of his neck standing on end. Hara, for her part, shivered out in turn, her voice trailing from her with a contented hiss. Not entirely unlike a mother crocodile guarding her brood. This time, however, Taric didn’t struggle to flee. Hara softly nuzzled into his fiery red hair, dragging her snout down across his scalp into his neck. 

	“You’re always–” she started, drawing out a deep, cool breath across his jugular before he could feel the moist, slender muscle of her tongue inch across his neck, travelling up to behind his right ear. 

	“–So warm–“ Hara drew her head back, her jaws parting. Small, pointed teeth glanced up against the curve of his right ear, grazing against the darkened skin. He inhaled sharply against the touch, pressing away from Hara. She simply held on to him tighter, her cool limbs growing taut and tight in the embrace.

	“–When I touch you.”

	Fear gripped his heart when those teeth pressed into his neck, her thick and heavy fingers pulling at his tunic to bare his right shoulder to her. Her jaws closed around him, he could feel her clamp, the prick of her teeth into his sun-bronzed skin, but no pain. His heart was pounding into his chest, a small part of him screaming for him to run. But that was the part he simply didn’t listen to. He pressed back into her at last, a low groan leaving his throat. His right arm tensed up to let his palm caress her cheek, the long fin hanging limp with electrum hanging from it, touching the lizardgirl with a squeeze that actually had her let go of Taric with her maw.

	Taric turned up towards her, holding on to her ear fin to look up into her small, golden eyes. “You’re feeling warmer already,” he noted, smiling up at the toothy, pointed reptilian snout bearing down on him. 

	Hara slowly leaned down her face again, rubbing her pointed nose against the slightly triangular curve of his own human nose. Her tongue flicked out across his lips and his chin, the tiny drops of sweat clear on his skin. She didn’t expect, however, him pulling himself up towards her maw, planting his lips into the taper of her snout. Hara slowly parted her jaws for him, her tongue drawing forth from her maw until she could lap across his chin and neck with it. Taric didn’t dare let go, sucking, plucking at her snout’s upper lip until he actually bit down at her scaled skin, causing the lizardfolk to cry out in surprise. Her posture shrank back a little, which Taric seized upon, carefully sucking at her jawline, letting his fingertips wander over her tongue hanging from her maw. His hairs of his beard tickled her skin. Hara certainly did not expect herself to enjoy that so much. She nuzzled back into his kissing lips, brushing her nose into his chin.

	His body heat and the bonfire besides them continued to spur her on. Hara lowered Taric down on his rump, before her own bulk forced him onto his back. Her hips seized him around the waist, her large chest and heavy tail pinning him down. She wrapped herself all around him, giving Taric very little wriggle room. His hands, however, were caught between their bodies. With only so much space to explore, they wandered over her stomach and tail’s scutes. He could feel how the scales just past her hips parted and felt faintly moist. Hara took his hands’ touches as his assent for more, her animal want and teenage affections soon having her grind her lower body into his breeches.

	She could feel his hands pressing into her scutes, into the junction of her tail and hips. Press against her flesh. She could feel his own flesh under her tail. Her head canted down as she lifted herself off his body. Her back and shoulders arched, her arms lowering to pin his shoulders down. Her jaws and her tongue were on full display to the young man. His heart began to race as the predator licked his jaw and throat, almost bearing her teeth down towards his face. In that fear, in that excitement, he grew hard. 

	Hara’s grinding of her lower body soon caused her to register that, too. Her cloaca slowly swelled and filled out her scutes until her tail and hip scales were split by a swollen mound of rosy red flesh, drenching Taric with her arousal on every upwards and downwards stroke across his groin. Hara could feel just fine how Taric responded, hissing out a deep and guttural growl that made the human lad shiver and shrink. His fingers and palms pushed and squeezed against her swollen flesh. It only made Hara push down on Taric harder.

	He had no way to push the amorous lizardgirl off him as she humped and ground into him at the most leisurely, slow pace a cooled and drained lizardfolk could manage. Her arms slowly drew down from his shoulders, her hands curling around the back of his head to let her fingers wander around his brown and red curls. Her teeth clenched closer towards his cheeks, Taric actually leaning his head back into her palms as he just wallowed in the heat of her breath billowing over his spit-covered throat and face. 

	His hands, slick with her juices, moved free from their lower bodies, reaching up to hold her lower jaw. He sucked at her tongue’s tip each time it lowered to his lips, making Hara softly groan out above him. He only stopped when he felt her about to pick up in speed on her grinding, holding up an index finger to her nose.

	“Jus’ a spell, Hara,” he breathed. For the first time, she heeded to his request. She wouldn’t be disappointed.

	Taric kicked off his boots away from his feet, one after the other, with a little effort, given that Hara still was on top of him. She was loathe to scoot away from him when he made the motions to sit up on his elbows, but soon was rewarded with the young man rising to remove his garments. His chiselled pectorals and thick arms were freed from the cloying, thick embrace of his tunic. The fire’s light danced across his glossy skin, his leather and bone necklace hanging loosely from his neck. The human’s arms were toned and long, a thin layer of longer hairs covering the width of his lower arms. Taric shimmied the simple leather belt from his waist so he could draw his breeches off as well for her, pulling one leg up to draw his feet out of each leg opening. The clothing was tossed over a stone a bit away from the fire.

	Hara’s eyes stayed fixed on Taric’s almost naked body. His chest was lined with a thin layer of perspiration shining in the bonfire’s light. It travelled all the way down his abdomen, until his navel, where fur began to grow downwards towards his groin, where she saw a jutting pillar of light yellow flesh stand out from his body. No neat vent keeping him modest, his organs just hung loose from his lower body, the skin of his testicles a little thin in the heat of the night and the fire roaring ahead. Hara inched herself closer towards him, angling her swollen, rosy flesh towards his organ. He felt so very hot compared to her. Looked so very firm. She reached over to him, her fingers brushing over the necklace she had given him before, until she could caress his soft, furry jaw. She leaned her face in, licking across his glowing, reddened face. Nose, cheeks, ears, forehead. He tasted so very, very hot.

	Taric reached up with his hands towards her own muscular chest, feeling across her heart and outwards towards her biceps. His firm hands squeezed at her scaled skin, moving inwards towards her sides until he could hold her hips in his palms. Hara pushed herself against him, the swollen, wet flesh of her cloaca oozing over his sword. His hands travelled inwards toward her thighs, until he gripped her cloaca protruding from her vent and firmly ground it back into the underside of his length.

	The size difference was considerable, though it did little to stop them. The teens awkwardly pressed closer up to one another. Hara’s toothy and frightening maw closed in around Taric’s face. He held himself close against the lizardgirl, letting his own stubby tongue reach up to taste hers. Meaty. Bitter. Not unpleasant, really. Actually a little bit like the wine the lizards fermented from their meats. Taric could certainly grow to like this.

	Hara took the initiative, slowly pushing the lad down against the ground again. This time, however, her slow back-and-forth grinding and humping could finally surround Taric’s rod with her plump flesh. The way his shaft bounced back up against her made Hara shiver, for once not in a chill. Her hips hoisted off him, and she angled herself above his thick organ. With a low and guttural hiss, she lowered, and could feel him press up into her swollen vent. His hips immediately jerked up towards her, pushing some of her flesh inwards, a very pleased thrill leaving her throat with a hot and needy bark.

	She pushed down. He could be thrusting back up into her. But she wasn’t done heating up. She simply pushed herself closer into him, grinding her cloaca down into his groin, even with her tail curling down between his legs to keep him pinned. She drew herself from his face, rising her upper body up from his to let out another victorious growl that wasn’t out of place after a successful hunt. Her animal calls, her bestial, exciting voice, however, soon turned to a possessive, sultry low purr. Every downward thrust was met by Hara with his name. Her tongue clicked against her palate, breathing heavily over him until she pushed back down on him, feeling him fill her fully.

	Taric embraced her thick, muscular neck into his hands, until she was low enough for him to wrap his arms around her. His feet pressed down against the floor, offering the larger, more powerful female a little more leverage on his inwards thrusts into her soft, spongy flesh. He never could have imagined a woman to feel so hot, so wet, to be able to wrap around him and positively pull him in deeper. He reached up for her low-hanging ear fins, heavy with the jewelry he had bought for her from the dwarven outpost in the south. His firm fingers squeezed them tightly, stroking outwards along the lengths of each scaly fin, before he let his fingers squeeze into the cartilage. She gave a soft hiss out to his touches. He groaned low her own name, pushing his hips up to meet hers.

	Hara set the cadence of their rut, slow, languid. Her insides squeezed around him in reflex, every little push inwards making her tighten in response. She rose, she lowered, her fingers curling into his head’s hair as she held him in her embrace. Her cloaca sopped and squelched lewdly with her every downwards thrust to meet him. Liquid heat flushed and surrounded his entire manhood, from root to sac. Her tail, her swollen flesh, pressed warmly up to meet him.

	Taric’s head felt light. His body rocked up to meet Hara’s, slowly daring to speed up. Hara matched it, with zeal at that, quick to pick up on the little change to their rhythm. Her rhythm, more like. She slowed him down just enough for him to languish in the sheer liquid heat surrounding him before the next slow increase in pacing until the night air began to fill with the loud, wet smacking of Hara’s reptilian cunt rutting Taric’s stiff rod. The merchant’s son buried his face into her neck, holding tightly onto her as their bodies moved together as one.

	The heat, the friction against her insides, was making Hara’s own head light. She held onto him tighter, soaking in the shameless sense of how right everything felt. Her domineering over the human lad. Her desire for him. Everything felt right. And for Taric, things seemed to work out just as well, too. His submission. His want for her. Both panted out after one another, a soft groaning back and forth of “Hara,” and “Taric” filled the air. The two childhood friends lost themselves to each other.

	Hara took to the initiative one more time, planting her palms into Taric’s, pinning his hands just a ways above his shoulders. She bounced her upper portion of her tail up and down with her hips’ ever more desperate grinds. His dick arched and pressed in all the right places of her insides. Her walls squeezed just right around his tip and the length of his organ. Taric could feel his body ache and his groin tingle. His body felt like it was on fire to Hara’s cool skin. To Hara, it felt like she had soaked almost the entire time in the sun.

	Admittedly, the fire helped a lot.

	“Hara!” Taric called, his thighs parting and then clinging around her tail, his hips bucking to pump in shorter, faster bucks into the swell of the chieftain’s daughter’s cloaca. Taric groaned out with every white-hot flash of pleasure arching through him, every flash earning the lizardwoman another thick spurt of his seed. Hara’s pumping, bouncing motions only made the wet, sucking noises leaving them all the louder and lewder, his seed slowly but certainly seeping out of her dripping slit. Her pacing picked up just slightly. She didn’t need too long.

	“Ta–! –ric!” Hara panted, her voice trailing off into a deep inhalation, a hiss that soon rumbled out of her as she pounced her prized merchant’s son one final time. The swollen flesh of her cloaca absolutely smothered the young man’s groin and his testicles, grinding down into him as she shuddered and absolutely leaked all over him. Hara collapsed on top of the human, breathing slow and heavily, her hands weakly squeezing into his palms. 

	When he finally squeezed back, Hara slowly lifted her sopping slit from him. A frothy, sticky mess clung to her scales, to his skin. One that very quickly was squished together once more. Hara’s lower body ground back and forth in slow, tensing motions. Just like her first slow grinding and gyrating. Her back arched, her head craning down to meet him. The tired lad and the groggy and slow lizardfolk soon kissed once more, a messy, sloppy affair of tongues lapping across her snout and across his chin and throat, heatedly murmuring to one another. She held him tightly down, grinding her swollen cloaca back down to his softened, spent shaft, rising and falling with her hips.

	Hara had no intention of stopping, after all, only just getting warmed up...