"Hmm, tell me something - what is her wingspan?"
Gerome's jaw stiffened as he heard Minerva's confused growls from the redheaded scholar who looked around the wyvern's body. The soft rock of the ship deck below didn't pacify himself in the slightest while he curtly answered, "Exactly the same as mo…Cherche's, Minerva."
Miriel shook her head and adjusted her spectacles from under her wide-brimmed hat. "Don't be absurd - I noticed that the curled scale that was near the base of the left wing is further apart. That means she must've had some growth between our time and yours. How far from the future are you - twenty years?" she asked him directly
The masked rider said nothing as he turned back to the waters. Their ship was hardly one of note- a mere merchant's vessel that was just barely large enough to let Minerva rest on the hull. Its crew was barely a handful, and we're all smart enough to leave the Shepherd pair to themselves. Reasonable, given the cold shoulder of Germoe and the endless questioning of Miriel. So the sailors gave the two a wide berth as they worked to keep the ship afloat and on its way.
"Given those estimates, and factoring for Laurent's irregular journey, I would put it at just under 19 years, rounding. Would that be right?" she asked him directly. Minerva growled as if to warn the scholar. But she wouldn't be deterred as she pressed him for more information. "How did you handle the lack of resources or utilities? What was the process of keeping yourself clean and healthy?
"Tch!"
Gerome clicked his teeth and tried very hard to ignore her increasingly personal questions that went from his sanitary practices in the future ruins. With each one he failed to answer, her next, rapidly reinforced query came with more weight and dug just a bit deeper.
Until she reached too far.
"What of your procreational habits - surely it would be imperative to foster a new generation in your timeline?"
'Enough of this,' He shook his head and turned to her with a noticeable frown. "Listen, I-ngh?!"
"Hmm?"
Miriel paused and glanced down at the obvious obstruction that pressed into her robes. Her hand tilted down her hat and hid her face as she made the most matter-of-factual observation in the world. "Ah, you seem to be in heightened arousal - fascinating."
"Perhaps it would be expedient to address this before we continue, yes?" she proposed as she looked up at him through her glasses.
"..."
"Hrmp! Hrmp! H-Hrrng!"
"Y-You seem quite pent up, G-Gerome," Miriel noted as her hips were forced back and forth along Gerome's cock. Her cap had already flopped over her face and her glasses dangled dangerously off her nose's bridge. She would've fixed them if she didn't already have a strong hold on the ribbing of the ship. The simple cot squeaked and creaked beneath her as her knees dug in for support from the masked rider's vigor. "Y-You could've at least let me remove my robes," she protested and lamented the obvious tears in her pants that gave him access to her tight, slick pussy.
"Spare pair," he growled in response. His thumbs flexed and pressed into the confines of her compromised pants as he ravished her again and again. The mask stayed firm on his face while he worked out all of the numerous desires that had welled up inside him. Each and every time the shockingly endowed and curvacious scholar had accosted him went into each and every stroke as she struggled to hold on.
Miriel winced as her glasses finally flopped off her face and dangled down from her ears. She attempted to fix them, but only managed to dislodge them wholly and wisely elected to set them aside. Without her clear vision, it was a bit trickier to look around the dark bowels of the ship while she tried to argue against him. "While true, you'll find these garments are quite cos-"
Riiiiip!
"…ly. Quite costly indeed," she lamented but didn't really rebuke him and his constant destruction of her robes. All she could do was set her more precious and personally cherished glasses out of reach before something ill would've befallen them as well. The sacrifice of her sight didn't seem to impact her own performance, what little she could manage to return against the more physically dominant Gerome, that is.
And he certainly showed that as his wild and wanton work forced her further up the bed with him close behind her. She felt the bed shift at her side where his leg hoisted up and planted down to give him that much more leverage. One of his arms abandoned her hip and grabbed her shoulder instead for the same decadent intent. It made it that much harder for her to keep her withs collected and run her mouth and speculation.
"Y-ooh!-S-S-eem to ha-aaa-haah-ve gained strength," she noted through her uncharitable gasps, groans, and pants. Her eyes flickered and rolled under the intense vigors that rattled through her with every thrust. Her nails dug against the ship's sides as the cot shuddered and rolled against the waves below and the wanton sex above. More and more of her blurred vision was obscured as her hat flopped forward and nearly covered her face. She was about to blindly grope and correct this issue with her sight…but Germoe had other plans for her.
"Ahhhh-hoump?!"
Miriel coughed as her hat's brim curled into her mouth. She could've spat it out if not for the arm wrapped around her neck that left the massive malleable brim pinned against her face. She was fortunate that her nostrils were somehow clear to let her breathe, which meant she wasn't at risk of asphyxiation at least. The loss of sight and the muffled sound didn't detract from her situation in the slightest.
If anything, it felt even better.
"Oumph! Oumph! Oumph! Ouhuruph!
Gerome squeezed the scholar's shoulder as he kept her hat and neck trapped against his tight elbow. Not firm enough to choke her, but she wasn't about to break free anytime soon. He had no reason to let up his assault against her while his grief and frustration were pounded into her wet, trembling pussy at a rate that left both of them dizzy. Miriel…this damnable woman,' he scowled as he took out all the pent-up lust that Laurent's mother had accidentally left him saddled with. It had b
Miriel herself had no way of understanding his grief while she tried to balance her thoughts. "...I cannot focus,' she lamented as her eyes rolled up in her skull. A sharp thrust pushed her covered face against the ship's hull. She finally released the boards with one hand and instead tugged at the rider's arm that was still locked against her neck
":C…Can't….have to….H-Hraaagh!"
"Hrmmmfk!"
Gerome slammed into her pussy and erupted deep into her eager womb. The hot, sticky load snapped her out of her sex-addled stupor as her eyes darted inside her darkened brim. Fear would've been clear and obvious on her face as she began to run over a million calculations in a second even as the threat of climax loomed over her head.
'He's still going even after reaching his climax?'
'At the rate of his ejaculation, he should be finished in…no, that's not right at all.'
'A sample of this semen may be required for later research.'
'H-He did not offer any warning.'
'Wait, his penis is still fully aroused?'
'Chances of insemination are…my word, this is a copious volume.'
`Where did he get the nourishment and vitality to produce such…s-su-'"huuuuuuh!"
Miriel's eyes rolled up as her darkened vision violently exploded into orgasmic stars. The scattered thoughts that had swirled in her mind were obliterated in an instant. Her body caught fire until her nerves had been burned to ashes. She drifted through a ceaseless void of bliss and ecstasy that couldn't be described with any of her fathomless words. The scholar had been stripped of her keen intellect and left as no more of a base creature than any other woman trapped in the throes of climax and the silent, slobbering screams that smeared her hat.
And honestly, she didn't mind it at all.
"HRRRRRRRMPH'
Riiip!
"Grrrrr."
Gerome heard Minerva's growls and tries to defend himself. "No, I didn't hurt her - I promise. She wanted to…help, me," he reluctantly admitted as he pats the wyvern's snout.
Miriel's obvious absence had left the wyvern more anxious and irate even with her cherished rider. Something that Gerome had some struggle with as he tried to justify his greatest sin in her reptilian eyes. Not the boundaries of laying with a woman outside his time. Nor the vigors in which he had ravaged her relentlessly until she was a mess of drool and mush in the cot.
"Grrr!" Minerva snorted right in Gerome's masked face, fangs bared.
"…I'm sorry I tore her hat, Minervykins," he sighed.
