Having said all this, I will now share that this story is not really about the Dragons or my rather colorful past. This is a story about Us. About Her. And about how We happened. … … … Having dealt with the Tsangpo Dragons, we were returning on a rather rattle trap train chugging away with all the efficiency of a sleep deprived snail. Our journey took us through the precarious twists of the Yamdroko mountain range towards the small village of Langsha. This was where we had left our horses and guides for the return journey. ……… I was trying my best to sleep but somehow, Her face wouldn’t let me. The shaking, rattling, musty compartment was no help either. I hadn’t at first managed a good look at her. I did learn that She was an anthropologist who had completed Her research on these mountain tribes and was now on Her way back home. Initially, we were all covered up to our eye balls in snow wear. So I doubt She could have seen my face. As the cabin began to warm with our collective. I clawed lightly at his thighs as Dagan started to speed up again, my pussy already hurting from the first orgasm. The small amount of pain on his legs sent the skier over the edge, and he grabbed the back of my head, forcing his dick down my throat as I swallowed his whole load; his body rocking slightly from the force of his cum leaving the end of his dick. Dagan’s hips slapped against mine for a few more thrusts before I felt him release his semen deep into my womb. The heat from his cum with those last few stokes was just enough to make me cum for the second time, my pussy squeezing out every last drop that Dagan had left him in. Moaning in pleasure he collapsed over me, his breath as heavy as mine. The skier after feeling his relief happily put his skis back on and took his leave down the mountain, leaving Dagan and I alone in the snow. “Thank you for that.” I whispered with a smile as he nuzzled my neck. He chuckled slightly, ever so slowly removing himself from me, his cum.
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