Most people think that dragons are cold-blooded, analytical creatures with no imagination, no passion, but I know one man who would disagree with that. I met him on a long, lonely train ride, and over a few glasses of mulled wine, he told me his tale. Is it true? I’ll let you decide.
For the sake of protecting his identity, I’ll call this man John. John was a professor of dragonology at a university, but had taken a semester off to study serpentine dragons in their natural habitat. Long and snake-like with short, stocky legs, serpentine dragons live in dry, arid places within flying distance of a lake, river, or ocean, since their primary prey is fish. Even though they don’t have wings, they can fly using a reverse-gravitation field produced by the electricity generated within their bodies…or something like that. It’s complicated and not important to our story.
John had set up his camp at a small oasis in the middle of the Corivane Wasteland, which was within a few a miles of several dragons’ territories. Dragons tend to ignore anything that isn’t food or a threat, so his presence was unlikely to disturb their normal behaviors. He didn’t count on one of them being as curious as he was.
Asleep in his tent, he was awakened by the soft sound of footsteps on the shifting sand, and a hushed, whispery sound that he recognized as a dragon’s tail slithering through the sand. He expected to hear the footsteps heading for the spring that fed the oasis, but instead the dragon circled his tent, loud breath whuffing against the thick canvas as he took in John’s scent. This sort of behavior was highly unusual for a dragon and John’s heart was pounding, his mouth dry as he lay silently upon his cot. While generally a solitary and peaceful species, rogue dragons were not unheard of.
The flaps of his tent parted as the dragon slipped his head inside, the silver flickers of electricity in his eyes lighting his dark red scales, his large nostrils flaring in his narrow snout as he scented the air. The dragon sniffed John’s pack, his clothes, his food stores, and then started to draw his head back out of the tent, but his sharp, black spiral horns caught on the tent flaps, tearing through the thick canvas. The tent shook as the alarmed dragon shook his head, trying to free himself. Not wanting his tent ripped to shreds and dragged halfway across the desert, John leaped up out of bed.
“Stop, please,” he said, holding out his hands in a halting gesture. He wasn’t sure if the dragon would be able to understand him. Many knew the human languages, but not all, and this dragon didn’t look very old, maybe a thousand years judging by the width of his snout and the length of his horns. Luckily, the dragon stopped struggling, the lightning crackling in his eyes as he regarded John.
“Please,” John said, his voice soft and unthreatening, “just stay still. I’ll get you free.” He took a hesitant step toward the long, slender head, well aware of just how many sharp, conical teeth were set in that long jaw, but the dragon didn’t move. More confidently, he walked over and worked the canvas off the horns, pushing the flaps aside to allow the dragon to back out. He figured the dragon would fly away as soon as he was free, but when he stepped out of the tent into the warm night air, he found the dragon standing on the sand, his twenty-foot long body gleaming in the moonlight.
“Thank you,” the dragon said, his voice deep and rich, a resonant rumble that seemed to hang in the quiet air.
“You’re welcome,” John said, his gaze moving slowly over the dragon’s sinuous body. His length was mostly neck and tail, his body only about a foot and a half wide at the thickest part. It was closest John had ever been to a wild dragon, so close he could see individual scales pebbling the dragon’s skin like cobblestones. He looked up at the dragon’s head, surprised to find those flickering, intelligent eyes studying him.
“You are a curious creature,” the dragon said, lowering his head until they were eye to eye. “Not what I expected to find up close. I’ve seen you watching us, but you seemed…different from a distance. Your color has changed. Is that what happens when you shed your skin?”
“I don’t shed my skin,” John said, wishing he had his camera so he could get some close-up shots of the dragon’s head. He was surprised when he the dragon nudged his chest with his scaly snout.
“You had loose blue skin,” he said, “now it is tight and pink. I saw the shed skin inside your den.”
“Oh, those are clothes,” John said, suddenly remembering his habit of sleeping in the nude. He glanced down at his naked body. “In fact, I should probably go put some on.”
“Explain clothes,” the dragon said as he turned back toward his tent.
“Well,” John said, “clothes protect humans from the weather. They keep us warm when it’s cold and protect our skin from the sun.”
“Then why do you want to put them on now? It is not cold and the sun is not out.”
“Oh. Well, humans also have thing called modesty. We don’t like to show our bodies to others.”
“Why?” the dragon asked. “You are a strange-looking species, but your short necks and flat snouts and long legs and tailless bodies are not ugly. In fact, I find you pleasing to look at.” His gaze moved down John’s body again and he drew his head back in surprise. “What is this? You have your reproductive organs on the outside of your body? How unusual.”
John shifted uncomfortably as the dragon’s cool breath gusted against his cock, but he let out a startled yelp and jumped back as the dragon’s long, forked tongue flicked against his shaft. The dragon scuttled back in surprise, eyes flicking with alarm.
“I’m sorry, did I injure you?” the dragon asked.
“No,” John said, feeling the heat creep into his face as his cock responded to the touch of the sinuous muscle. “I just wasn’t expecting you to do that. I’m going to put my clothes on now.”
“Wait,” the dragon said, shuffling closer and lowering his head again, his snout almost touching John’s cock. “You are in distress.”
“No, I’m just…” He looked down at his hardening cock. “The stimulation from your tongue has caused arousal. It’s a natural human reaction. Why did you think I was in distress?”
“I am in distress,” the dragon said, lifting his tail and showing John the slick and swollen opening of his cloaca, the bulges beneath his skin denoting his engorged hemipenes. “It is the breeding season, but I cannot find a mate or relief. How do you find relief for your arousal with no mate nearby?”
“Oh, um…Well, when humans need relief, they generally use their hands to, um…stimulate the sexual organs until orgasm is reached.”
“I see,” the dragon said, looking down at his own scaled feet and long, sharp claws. “I don’t think that would work for me.” He sighed. “It is not important. The urge will pass in a few weeks. Thank you for your conversation, human.”
“My name’s John,” he said, feeling a stirring of sympathy for the distressed creature. How horrible would be to be aroused for weeks without relief? “And you’re welcome.”
“I am Serym,” the dragon said. “Perhaps we can talk again sometime.” He turned to leave.
“Serym, wait,” John said. He couldn’t believe he was going to suggest this. “Maybe…maybe I can help you. If you’ll permit me, I could use my hands to help you find relief.”
“You would do that for me?” the dragon asked.
John nodded. “Yes, I would.”
“Oh, thank you,” Serym said, immediately lying down in the sand and rolling onto his back. “You have no idea how terrible an ache I feel. I was almost to the point of rutting against a cactus to try and find release.”
“Well, there’s no need for that,” John said, nervously approaching the prone dragon. His cloaca glistened in the moonlight, slick with a thick fluid. Sinking to his knees beside Serym, John reached out, stroking the bulges beneath the smooth scales before probing the opening with his fingers. Serym made a low rumbling sound in his chest, but John knew from his observations that it wasn’t a growl, it was a sound of contentment and pleasure, not unlike the purr of a cat.
At his stimulation, the dragon’s twin penises emerged from his body, each one half again as long and thick as John’s own cock. A pale, pearly pink color, they glistened with that thick fluid, slick and shiny. They gave off a heavy, musky odor that seemed to draw him in and he took deep, greedy breaths to savor the smell. He found himself becoming more aroused, his cock rising to attention, stiff and aching. Wrapping a hand around each hemipenis, John began to stroke the dragon, drawing a low, rumbling moan from the creature.
“That feels so good,” Serym said, twisting his long, supple neck around until he could rub his scaly cheek against John’s back, the scales smooth and cool against John’s skin. The dragon’s forked tongue darted out, licking at John’s neck and flicking against his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. “Do not be afraid,” Serym said, his snout rubbing against John’s side as he lowered his head to John’s crotch. “I will not hurt you.”
John gasped, his body tensing as Serym’s tongue slithered over his cock, the forked tip flicking against John’s cockhead. The long tongue slid down, cradling his balls before tickling John’s perineum. Suddenly, the dragon drew back, only to shove his muzzle between John’s ass cheeks, his tongue slithering over John’s opening.
“Oh!” John cried in surprise and pleasure, his grip on the slippery dragon cocks tightening as he pumped the twin shafts. He rose up on his knees as Serym nosed closer, nearly lifting him off the ground, and then he felt the flat top of the dragon’s snout between his legs as the dragon lifted him up and dropped him astride the dragon’s tail, shoving him forward until his cock slid between the two hemipenes, cradled in the juncture where the two shafts met.
“What are you doing?” John asked as the dragon returned to licking his asshole.
“Helping you with your arousal,” Serym said. “It is the least I can do to repay your kindness.”
“Oh, well, I- I–” He moaned as that thin, muscular tongue slipped inside him, thrusting deep and curling, twisting against the walls of his rectum. “Okay.” He began to rock, rutting against Serym’s cocks as his hands slid up and down the smooth shafts, now and then pausing to massage the tapered tips, that thick fluid flowing copiously from a groove along the underside.
“John,” the dragon moaned suddenly. “John, I need more. Please, I need to feel the warmth of your body, I need to feel myself inside you.” He rubbed his cheek against John’s back again. “Please, John.”
John stroked the tip of one hemipenis, so smooth and slick, and his ass had been opened by Serym’s tongue, and the dragon’s cock wasn’t really that much bigger than some of the men he’d been with. Feeling weak in the knees, John rose up and shifted forward, using one hand to guide one of the slick cockheads to his hole. Taking a deep breath, he sank down on the slippery pole, his muscles gripping the dragon’s cock as it filled him.
Serym rumbled with pleasure. “Your body is so hot and tight, I just want to…to fill you, to touch the deepest places inside you.” He began to thrust, his cock sliding deep inside John, but his body didn’t move, just the muscles beneath his scaly hide, flexing and bunching with each forceful penetration. John’s body bucked, his back arching as the dragon fucked him, his hands wrapping around the second hemipenis, stroking and pulling and fondling the head.
Then something unexpected happened. The smooth, tapered head of the cock in his hands suddenly swelled, the surface covered with rounded bumps, like marbles beneath the skin. In the moment it took him to realize that the cock inside him had done the same, every muscle in his lower body clenched and he cried out as a cold, prickling sensation filled him, intensely pleasurable, almost to the point of being painful. He gasped, his whole body shaking.
“What is…happening?” he panted. Serym didn’t answer, his thrusts growing faster, more urgent. John felt like he was going to cum, his balls drawing up, his cock jerking about like a puppet on a string, but he couldn’t. The pleasure just shuddered through him with every stroke of the dragon cock inside him, the knobby tip rubbing back and forth across his prostate, that cold, tingling sensation making him gasp and writhe. What was it?
He touched the head of the second hemipenis and jerked back as that strange prickling sensation crept up his fingers, making the muscles tense and electrifying the nerves–That was it! Electricity. Dragons were able to produce electricity in their bodies to enable them to fly. Who knew it was used in mating as well.
John jerked feverishly on the hemipenis in his hands, pressing his own hard, leaking cock against the electrified shaft as he bucked and ground against the twin cocks. Serym rumbled and groaned, rubbing his face against John like a cat in heat, his tail lashing, snaking back and forth across the sand. Suddenly, the dragon thrust deep, flinging his head upward and bugling to the stars, the sound ringing out across the desert like the call of a silver trumpet as he came, filling John with his thick dragon cum. John cried out, cum splattering Serym’s scales as he emptied himself in one long, satisfying string after another.
Gasping and shuddering, John climbed off the dragon, his legs shaking as he staggered toward the spring. Dipping water out of the pool, he washed himself, then carried the bucket over to the prostrate dragon, washing the white splatters off the dark red scales.
“Thank you, John,” the dragon said, a pleased rumble in his resonant voice. Slowly, he rolled over and rose to his feet, stretching languidly before lowering his head and rubbing his cheek against John’s bare chest. John stroked the smooth scales on Serym’s neck, then the dragon pulled away. “The mating season lasts for several more weeks. May I return if the urges become too great?”
John’s body began to ache with need at the thought of having that dragon cock inside him again. “I hope you will,” he said. He stood and watched as Serym climbed the nearest dune before rising into the night sky and disappearing from sight, then he turned and made his way on unsteady legs into his tent, where he fell exhausted onto his cot.
So, did this really happen, or was it just the wine talking? I like to think it did. Besides, how else would someone have such intimate knowledge of dragon anatomy?