Back to the Inn

"Um... how far is it to the inn where you're staying, did you say?"

The dragon looks delighted and gives you a toothy smile as you can hear him purring at your response, nodding as he points to the eastern district of the city.

"Oh, it'll take us about five minutes to get there by air, no time at all. I live a bit east of the city center, the borough adjacent to the docks, called Amfyr. I believe the name means something akin to, 'The Flame That Sparks Creation,' very old Dragonic word, only scholars speak any of that anymore," he catches himself and bats the grass with his foreclaw again, making a soft thump, "Sorry, little friend. Sometimes I ramble a mite when I get excited; it has been half-a-year since I've had company. I did have a weasel roommate, but my morning farts were too much for her to handle, so she left after about a month or so, I think bound west for Abelkom or somesuch...? Relatives or something, she said. I recall her fur used to feel so wonderfully soft against my..."

You're starting to wonder if agreeing to journey back with this dragon might be the best choice after all, as it's sounding more and more like he's already considering a long-term situation in his head. Your heart skips a beat as you consider just how powerful a grown dragon's "morning farts," and gas in general, might be, but then again he did just wipe his filthy rear all over your face, and you are still very sticky with his poop, which is starting to cool along your arms and chest and face as he continues to lewdly describe the fun he used to have with his weasel companion. Though you hope you've already smelt the worst his tail-hole has to offer, you also don't want there to be any misunderstanding here.

"Now, hold on, dragon," you clear your throat as he cocks his head at you, large eyes blinking as he listens to your reply, "I'm happy to accompany you back to your inn, but as we've only just met one another, I'm not agreeing to share your rooms with you. It's true I am seeking a place to stay, and mayhaps this Inn might serve my needs, but for now, I'm only saying I'll head back to check the place out, after we've washed up."

"Oh, yes, of course, little human," the dragon shakes his great head to and fro and then gives a firm nod, "I did not mean to imply I was trying to **** you to stay with me. I was only recalling fond memories, tis all. But you are right; I will take you there, and you can make of the place what you will, stay or go, I shall give you the coin as promised and help you get cleaned." He lays down on the grass on his belly and unfurls his massive wings with a whoosh, gesturing towards his upper back with a slight jerk of his chin. "It won't be as comfortable as if I had a saddle or blanket for you to sit on, but for a short flight, you shouldn't be bothered. I'll collect your things for you, since I promised not to get my poop on your clothes."

You stand there for a moment uncertainly as he gathers up your clothes in his foreclaw, tucking them under his armpit so he won't accidentally drop anything mid flight. Judging by how much his rump scales were sweating on you earlier, you realize all of your clothes are going to need a good washing now, as he's sweaty from enjoying you and the pits of his forelegs are undoubtedly heavy with dragon bodily musk. As he asks you once again to climb onto his back, you approach with some further trepidation.

"I've never actually uh... flown before..."

"Oh, not to worry, human," the blue dragon reaches a claw beneath your buttocks and then your legs and feet to help you climb across the back of his neck, "I'll go nice and slow, just a few flaps and a steady glide, and we needn't go too high up either. Oh, and don't worry about getting any dung on my scales, I'm planning to wash when we get there anyway."

You wrap your arms around his neck, these scales feeling tougher and perhaps more lizard-like as your bare skin makes contact with his outer hide. It isn't uncomfortable, but much less smooth and sensual than the scales of his rump or even those of his snout, and you wonder how many different scaly textures a dragon of this sort has- a question you consider you may be finding out after you've reached your destination. The dragon snorts as you leave some of his mess across his neck scales, but doesn't complain, and instead encourages you to stay calm and breathe as his massive wings begin to beat the air like the sails of the ships you saw in the harbor earlier. With a few strong flaps, air rushing beneath you as he leaves the grass, you can feel yourself rising with him into the air, and with another heavy flap to gain the proper altitude, the dragon spreads his wings in a glide and descends over the border wall into the city proper, heading due east of the center. The hyenas guarding the gate don't even look in your direction as you pass by overhead, and when you ask about this, the dragon chuckles and replies him and his friends do enough to filter any unwanted guests that the guards are more there to scare off bandits and pickpockets.

"We can sense a person's true intentions by their smell," he explains as he flaps again and begins coasting once more over the market square. Another dragon calls up to him from below and he waves with his free foreclaw, the teeming crowd of anthros and humans milling about the stalls, rushing to other destinations, and leaning against the flagstone walls chatting with one another looking like figures in a game of Fortifications from this height, and you shut your eyes as you cling to the dragon's neck, regretting looking down with the continual motion of his body feeling a suddenly precarious support, "I've got you, little one, don't you worry. I even participated in last year's Flying Games, so if- Spirits Preserve!- anything were to go awry, I would swoop down and catch you with my claws. Though I might drop your clothes in that case."

You nod weakly as you try to take a deep breath, dragon's little joke not entirely helpful.

"What was I saying a moment- ah, yes! We can smell if someone has nefarious aims, and we certainly aren't going to let that sort of person mount us, in either sense of the word, haha," the cry of a shorebird further out near the docks reaches your ears to mingle with the reptile's chortle, "Many of us make our coin from acting as a secondary town watch in this manner, sniffing out any dangerous sorts that might be trying something less than honest in our town. We take great civic pride in keeping Igrandranmyr a safe and hospitable place for all of our citizens and guests. Generally speaking, a growl or a roar will make any ne'er-do-well think twice, but a word in the ear of a nearby guard will take care of things as well, if needed. We can snatch up a robber and toss them out, if needed, but the majority of us prefer to avoid having to use **** against our fellow intelligent species."

You nod and cautiously open your eyes, seeing a collection of older houses and outbuildings in a grassy field a short ways off of what must be the town center you're flying overhead of now. An enormous statue you recognize as a depiction of Pelkyros, the god of civilization and architecture, stands in silver splendor in the middle of the crowded square, beside a majestic dragon with ram-like horns and splendid frills between his feathered wings whom your companion explains is Broxtylis, the god of friendship and alliances, and with her staff of fertility, integrity, and honesty to Pelkyros' right stands Imyria, the vixen goddess of creation, a sculpture representing the three founding tribes of the original settlement, and a recent addition to the city at scarcely over 50 years old, your companion explains. Tourists to the city gather around the sculpture in admiration, some pointing up as you fly overhead, as a fox continues his painting below undisturbed by the surrounding commotion of street vendors and visitors, a glimpse showing a lovely scene of the square in sunlight, half-finished. Down an adjacent alley, a leopard pushes a wheelbarrow filled with citrus fruits and bright red cherries bound for a nearby market stall, and two gazelles chat with one another on the stoop leading to their apartment entrance, one pulling the other back as the shadow of your scaled friend passes overhead, and your realize they're also cautious of getting pooped on- certainly not a concern at the moment. As you reach the knoll past the adjoining alleys, its hard not to notice the gryphon laying on his back with wings unfurled, rubbing an otter firmly into his lion arousal with a talon, which is starting to spill where the feathers meet his fur, a noisy ecstatic cry reaching your ears as he spurts. Your companion chuckles and assures you such public fun is quite allowed so long as they aren't disturbing anyone.

With a few large flaps of his mighty wings, the dragon alights near a two-storied structure with red stucco roofing atop of white stone walls, laying down so you can dismount from his back. You hold the side of his back for support a moment as you feel the grass beneath your bare feet, adjusting to the feeling of being back on land. The blue dragon chuckles and assures you this is common for first-time fliers, and after a brief moment the vertigo fades and you follow him along the hexagonal stones placed in the grass leading to the inn. You feel a strange indentation beneath your feet as you walk across these markers, and look down to see each stone has the footprint of a dragon or human imprinted into its center. This, your friend explains, is to honor the hard work of those who built the inn, which is over a hundred years old, and while all but one of the dragons is still living, the human builders have all since rejoined the Spiritfold. As you approach the open wooden door of the main entrance, greeted with a chuckle by the alligator sitting in a rocking chair on the porch, you notice the sign hanging from two little golden chains, "The Drunken Dragon," depicting in relief a fat dragon reclining on his side, chugging from a frothy mug of ale as he rubs his big belly with his other claw.

The interior first floor houses the tavern, occupied at this time by around half-a-dozen dragons and their companions, all but one of whom, being a sparrow, are humans like yourself, sitting around very wide benches upholstered with a dark crimson leather backing and cushions. Well, several of these dragons are sitting on top of their humans as well, as you see pairs of legs sticking out from beneath massive resting hindquarters, and catch a strong odor of what must be dragon flatulence as you journey through the tavern level with your companion, grimacing as the incredible stench resembles the dung now caking your skin. A pink-scaled bartender with a lovely crest of green and orange plumage adorning her chest calls out a greeting as you pass near the counter, but your blue-scaled friend declines for you, nodding towards the dung on your skin as the bartender places a claw to her feathered chest with an exclamation of laughter. Your filthy condition has hardly gone unnoticed by the other patrons either- some of your fellow humans giving a knowing smile and a nod as they raise their glasses to you, and some of the dragons inviting you to come closer so you can compare the stench of their own backsides, a teal male with elegant koi-like frills adorning his neck and back leans to wave a loud fart in your direction with a claw and two blue-scaled females with darker fur along their ankles and chests roll back in their booth and part the space between their loins with a claw tip, forked tongues licking their lips as they gesture with their free foreclaws and call out, "Want to play, human, hmmm?"

"Oh, yes, this is very common for dragons of all sorts," your friend replies as you follow him upstairs to the second level where the apartments are located, "Our sexual appetites and needs are higher than those of your kind, and we can become restless and melancholy if we don't satisfy ourselves multiple times each day. While we can of course do so with other dragons, your kind and similarly-sized anthros afford many... enjoyable possibilities..."

He stops in the hallway, turning to exhale across your chest with both nostrils, huffing out his warm breath as you see his foreclaw rubbing between his back legs, standing over you and panting warm breath across your face as he masturbates a moment, before shaking his head and turning to open the door to his room.

"Home sweet home, showers are just through there, you can go ahead and start the water, I'm not sure how hot you prefer it," the dragon nods towards an open space through which you can glimpse a pale-blue tiled floor, along with a wooden-lidded toilet that's most definitely sized for dragon hindquarters. You've heard about these contraptions, but aren't quite sure how it works compared to the outhouses you're used to. Anticipating your other question, the dragon adds, "Oh, it gets enough use from me, but sometimes it's nice to just relieve yourself in the open air, feels more natural. You'll be fine if you just balance along the edge though." You ask your first question: "Hm? Oh, you pull this chain here and it flushes away the waste."

Stepping into the smooth white chamber through the hanging lilac curtain, you're left equally as perplexed by what this space for washing could be, this so-called... shower? There's a conspicuous lack of water in the wide alcove, again dauntingly sized for a dragon's much bigger body, and while you recognize the bar of soap, your friend has to step in and and show you how to turn the little silver handles, as you marvel as the silver spout overhead begins to pour forth rain... like a rain shower, now that makes sense!

"Or..." dragon smiles and huffs low in his throat as he joins you in the space, turning his fat flank towards you as he lifts a hind leg to point the head of his large pink penis towards your own, "Like a shower of warm golden liquid, heheh."

With a panting sigh, the dirty dragon relieves himself, emptying his massive bladder onto your face and chest for several minutes while the actual shower warms. He places a claw pad to your shoulder as before, forcing you to your knees so he can hover himself over you for a more comfortable peeing. He's got you backed against the smooth wall soon, his hot urine streaming and splashing as it pours across your chest and he adjusts his aim to spray your own penis but mostly hose down your face and cheeks as the forked tip of his tongue lolls across his dark blue lips. Bringing the tip of his dragon dick warmly across your forehead, he finishes with a few short spurts of urine, shakes his balls and dick, and then lowers his leg as he allows you to stand, his laughter booming off the shower walls. You shake your head, with a slight scowl at his musky piss, but at least all that pee has washed some of the dung from your chest and face. You gratefully step under the spout after dragon tests to ensure the water isn't too hot, at last getting genuinely clean, your companion purring as he helps to wash off the mess he made earlier with his smooth claws sudsy with the floral-smelling soap. When he's finished, he lifts his tail, squats near your head, and presents you with his poopy posterior once again- the dung is still caked to either side of his big wrinkled anus, he still smells atrocious, and now that his bladder is empty, he's back to getting an erection as he encourages you to wash his rump by wiggling it in your face.

"Your little hands are perfect for reaching back there and getting allll the poop scrubbed off me," the dragon says as he stands there with his tail curled towards his folded wings, giving you full access to that dirty anus, "And since I was kind enough to was- prrfftt!"

His puckered butthole juts open with a little fart, the smell of which lingers potently in the shower space as your own nose wrinkles a little. With a sigh, you oblige the raunchy reptile, who sighs and pulls at his penis as you soap up your palms and scrub the scales of his rump and warm ring of his tail-hole until the beige surface is practically shiny. The dragon seems pleased with your efforts as you wash your hands and finish showering, planting a little kiss on your forehead. He illustrates the use of the fluffy white blanket known as a "towel," helping to dry you with the tent-sized cloth before washing the water from his own scales. As you thank him and head back to the bedroom, asking again about the gold coin he promised before he wiped on you, you feel the smooth pressure of his claw against your shoulders and set down the underwear you were about to put back on.

"Remember, my little human friend..." the warm breath huffs across your cheek and neck as the dragon whispers into your ear, "What I was telling you earlier about needing to get off several times each day...?"

You're scooped up under his foreleg as he holds you against the smooth underscales of his large chest, carrying you back to the bed, surprisingly limber on three legs as you consider he's probably had a lot of practice in this position. He lays you across the unmade blankets gently, hoisting himself up over the edge of the bed, the wooden frame creaking from his immense weight, as you see his firm pink shaft headed straight for your chest. The tacky, hard muscle that is the dragon's dick, as long and thick as one of your own legs, begins to press and grind against your chest, the head of his cock poking into your chin, as the dragon humps you, rubbing his arousal up and down your smaller body as you can hear him huffing and moaning somewhere above. The fat of his lower belly jiggles along your forehead and face, scales starting to become warm and sweaty as you feel his dick shifting across your skin, sweating yourself, but this is nothing compared to the pool his scaly ballsac is starting to form, dripping into your navel after several minutes of grinding. Turning onto his side and holding you against his erect shaft with a smooth claw, the dragon moans as he begins to pet across your shoulders and back, continuing to press and rub your body along his heated length.

"Huuhhh... s-so... h-human... have you thought... about whether you like the inn..." the dragon groans as you feel a little spurt of pre near your chin, but unlike before he keeps rubbing his cock across you, and keeps you in place with the base of his claw as he continues, "There's plenty of rooms here, and you're... uhhnnn... wel-welcome to stay with me, if you'd like..."

"Well you... haven't actually introduced yourself, so..."

"Oh, ohhhhh! Huh... s-sorry, little human," the dragon keeps you pinned to his penis, but rubs more slowly as he speaks, "Forgive me... mmm... mmmnn... We are so used to identifying each other by sight and s-smuhh-huh... by smell, that we often do not bother with names very often. But I am called Drelfrumm, and what are you called, my human friend? Besides a delightful little playmate, hurrrr-huhhh..."

You introduce yourself properly to the dragon, who whines and purrs in response, inhaling and adding that he likes the melody of your name, continuing to pleasure himself with you as he continues speaking. You're starting to wonder now if that "higher sexual appetite," also means a longer lasting congress, as Dreflfrumm keeps rubbing away at you, a little faster now, and doesn't show signs of slowing down as he resumes speaking.

"I will pay you after we've... huhhh... f-finished enjoying one another's c-company... it may take... more than once for me, to reach satisfaction, so... just... enjoy my shaft on your skin, little friend... mmmhnn... I certainly am, huhhhh...." He continues in silence, the steady slap and shuffle of his cock across your sweaty skin the only sound save for the muffled laughter and chatter of the dragons on the lower level, and his own heavy breathing and moans, "If you're after... work... you should speak with... Mersila downstairs, the barkeep. She's... sure to need a hand with the inn... uhhnnn... or your nice skin... against her own scales, huh, ha!"

The big blue beast continues to take his pleasure with you, his dick gradually spilling with seed that smells of blackberries as he reaches his first climax as you consider the possibilities. Of course, you don't have to make a lasting commitment right away, but he does seem very sweet, if a little disgusting. Of course, there's also no telling what sorts of menial- and possibly messy- tasks Mersila might have in mind for a little human to help with, quite possibly involving her own fat female frame. You're distracted as Drelfrumm pops the tip of his claw between your lips, the taste of hot blackberry seed stimulating your tongue as he purr-growls amorously, explaining that delicious cum is one of many pleasures you can share with a dragon companion. He holds you against his fat belly as he recovers a moment, the head of his dick sticky against your belly as he soon drags the pre-smeared tip over your chest once again. You could always just leave as well, but then where would you go? You snuggle against the humping dragon, eliciting a pleased growl from Drelfrumm as you consider your options and he smoothly humps away.