The Notebook

He said no; he didn't want to. But he was hard as diamonds anyway so she didn't know what all the fuss was about. Wasn't like he was making any effort to push her off either. In fact he lay there, utterly still, staring off into a dark corner.

His manhood stood to a proud, strong salute. It slipped into her cunt nice and easy when she mounted him, like a knife through hot butter. He didn't move or protest; his cock stuffed her full like scraps of bread crusts would a starving child. She groaned loud when she sank to the hilt, dragging her nails through the dark curls of chest hair. He didn't say a word when she began to ride him, only swallowed and blinked quickly as her hips rose and fell in fluid, continuous motion, grinding on the thick girth of his dick and wetly sucking its mouthwatering length between smooth, tight lips.

Balancing now on the soles of her feet rather than her knees, long, unbound hair spilled across his body as she looked down between her legs. A stiff pole of cockmeat glistened when she lifted her hips, swallowed up in the blink of an eye when she dropped down and skewered herself on it. Her pert breasts swayed underneath her, capped with large, dusky nipples hardened to thick nubs that craved the contact of skin. She teased herself with a finger and thumb, pinching, twisting and pulling. Her other hand scored faint pink lines down a muscled chest, nails raking along fair skin. A sharp wince caught her attention, made her look up.

Her hand reached forward and caught his chin, turning him towards her. His eyes were wet, his jaw tight. Her locks were a dark brown curtain to either side of his face when she bent down and engaged his mouth. She broke away moments later. The flat of her hand crashed suddenly against his cheek.

"Kiss me."

He sniffed. His lips trembled, then parted, and she leaned down again to claim them. Her tongue pushed deep, tasting his mouth, his breath, as she slid her hand up into thick, black, tousled hair. Her grip was tight, pulling against the scalp when she broke the kiss.

"If you come inside me," she told him, glaring down into vacant green eyes, "I'll make you swallow your teeth."

Something welled up in the corner of his eye. By the grip she had on his hair, she forced him to turn his face aside. Salt lingered on the tip of her tongue when she drew it back into her mouth. She smirked. Then, planting her hands to either side of him, began rolling her hips, slapping her cunt down wetly onto his crotch until she felt the ominous pulse of an imminently bursting cock. "Coming," he croaked, and she scooted quickly up and off of him, kneeling to the side and with a tight fist tugged hard on the base of his shaft. A ragged groan escaped his throat, followed by ropes of white plastered hotly across his stomach in weakening spurts.

The woman swung her legs over the edge of the cot and stood to her feet. She hadn't finished, but she could take care of herself later. There was still a smile on her face, small and cutting. Her hands rose to fashion her hair into a loose, messy bun, and despite her utter nakedness, inner thighs and the lips of her sex glistening with wetness, she almost immediately reacquired the cold, emotionless features of the Great Uniter. She kicked the pile of clothes forcibly removed from his person at the young man lying on her cot. "Get up, get dressed, and get out," Kuvira said shortly, and nothing more.

Bolin used his shirt to wipe the semen from his stomach, before pulling the soiled garment over his head. He spoke not a single word as he dressed himself, finally pushing his feet back into sturdy boots. Kuvira had already forgotten him, sitting in a jade green robe with her back to him at her grand war table. He sniffed, choking down a growing lump in his throat, and left the tent. He'd be back tomorrow. The Great Uniter had decided his place in her conquest of the Earth Kingdom; she would use him.

Thoroughly.