85 - I Became a Guy Who Got Caught Up in the Summoning of a Hero

Title: Caught Up in the Hero Summoning – Chapter 85: Northern Rabbit (Web Novel Repository) --- What is Culture...? Demina's body was extremely sensitive and delicate. The soft, downy hairs stood on end under my touch, reminiscent of a startled cat with bristling fur. As my hand brushed along her back and moved towards her front, I lightly caressed the area between her ribcage and side, applying a faint pressure. Demina pulled away slightly, her eyes finding mine. "Ha... Your touch... feels strange. Is this what excitement feels like?" "It could be the consistent stimulation that's causing the excitement. Do you not like it?" "No... I like it. It feels like it's melting something inside me..." Smiling at her response, I planted a gentle kiss on her nose and slowly moved down, stimulating her senses from lips to chin to neck. All the while, I avoided directly stimulating her breasts or nipples, instead letting my hands glide over her body, raising her arousal. This approach seemed to work well with Demina. Even for the Sai race, known for their mental and physical strength, it would have been tough to handle liquor exceeding forty degrees straight away. Had I not built up a tolerance over time, I might have been intoxicated to a reckless extent. Naturally, as excitement rose, the alcohol's effects would take hold more quickly. Fast and rough actions could follow, and Demina might not endure such bold touches. Hence, I decided it was best to elevate Demina's excitement level before she might exceed her limit. By avoiding intensely sensitive areas and gently licking, I coaxed out heavier breaths, which was a departure from how she had reacted previously. With a soft moan in her ear, she asked: "Ha... It wasn't like this before... Are you being considerate?" At her words, I paused my actions and replied. "I realize now that I may not have been considerate the first time, even though I knew it was your first. That's why I waited. But now, things are a bit different. I feel you're ready to accept. I plan to help you get more excited gradually." Demina nodded slowly, reclining back into the chair. As I continued to caress and gently explore her body, I noticed she was no longer flinching when I touched her abdomen or the inside of her thighs. I became bolder in my approach. With one hand, I gently grazed her breast, teasing the nipple as I went, while the other hand brushed near her pubic hair, as if signaling the stimulation yet to come. Soft moans began to escape Demina's lips. It seemed each time my fingers brushed her nipples, she couldn't suppress them. Evidently, her nipples were a significant erogenous zone for her. Of course, her privates might be as well, but that's an erogenous zone for many. Now, I began to involve myself more deeply with Demina's body. I softly pinched at her nipples, rolling them lightly with my tongue, while gently cupping her lower region. This was the beginning of a more intense stimulation, as she clenched her lips, revealing her resolve and giving me a thrill, a sensation of tension becoming almost unbearable. There was an almost desperate urge within me, a captivated, impatient persona urging me to dive right into her warmth. But as I had said earlier, this was just the beginning. Demina's toned muscles were covered with smooth skin, lacking any superfluous flesh. Her tactilely pleasing firmness, coupled with the soft bristles bending under my touch, only added to her allure. Her breasts, just the perfect size to fit in a hand, seemed softer than they ought to be, given her muscular frame. The curious contrast made her nipples particularly enjoyable to toy with using my tongue. As I licked and gently pressured one surge into her breast, it easily gave way, giving a unique and enticing sensation. The roughened breaths coming from Demina, who gripped the chair's seat and trembled, were quite a sight. However, the most important part was yet to come. "The earlier teasing might have been nothing. Don't run. Understand?" "...Are you going to stimulate... there?" "Of course. If it gets overwhelming, don't run. Just tell me to stop. Okay?" "...Yes." Demina seemed tense, her muscles taut. I gently spread her legs, speaking as I did. "Relax. Tensing might lead to an unexpected reaction, and I could get hurt. I'm a fragile human, unlike a Sai. Please be careful." "...I'm sorry." Apologies weren't strictly necessary, but I chose not to correct her. It seemed beneficial for her to be attentive. Continuing with more proactive caressing, I kissed down her thighs, watching her skin tremble. I took in the subtle, musky scent emanating from her most private area. Curiosity piquing at the near peach-colored skin, I imagined it might yield a sweet taste. "Not yet. Calm down. She might still shy away..." Restraining myself from pouncing upon it immediately, I meticulously employed my hands to part her inner petals using my thumb and forefinger, revealing a small but prominent protrusion. Avoiding direct touch, I lightly tickled the surrounding skin with my fingertips. "Ha... Ha... Uuh... Ha!!" Demina suppressed her moans, following the rhythm of my fingers, as if holding back some powerful force. Though there was no need for her to restrain herself, being a 'warrior' seemed to have ingrained the habit of endurance into her. I continued the repetitive stimulation. Before long, I sensed a change—a moistness enveloping her. Her intimate area began to glisten as beads of moisture formed, akin to sweat. When I took a deep breath, I realized it was more than perspiration; excitement had led to an outpour of arousal. The heady scent filled the air, tempting me to dive in and indulge impulsively. But drawing from past experiences, I knew the importance of moderation, so I carefully continued the tender caresses. As I noticed a creamy liquid gently flowing from between the folds, I knew we were getting somewhere. ‘Just a little more... just a bit...’ Lightly dipping my fingers into the liquid, I showed it to Demina. "You're excited. Your essence is flowing. I wonder what it tastes like?" Her breath turned ragged, and she shot me a bewildered look as I tasted the sweet tang of her juices. It was a strange, licentious delight. Demina watched me with an expression questioning my motives, but I preemptively explained my intentions. "I plan to bury my face in your most delicate area and give you oral pleasure. It might be overwhelming, but if you endure, you'll feel the world's greatest bliss. Please, trust me. I’d hate to get hurt—emotionally, or physically." "...Is it necessary?" "I desire it. It might not be essential, but didn't you say you'd follow my orders? That you'd let me do as I wish?" "...That's true, but…" Despite her repeated protests, she seemed unsure. Rising in response, I suggested more assertively: "Should I be more forceful? Would you like to have a taste first?" Referencing my manhood, Demina paled and shook her head in refusal. A first—her refusal of fellatio. Accepting her rebuff, I assured her I'd take charge, squatting once again between her legs. Rather than jumping in with my tongue, I paced myself by gently inserting my middle finger into her. "Hnnng?!" Demina's muscles tensed, grappling with the instinct to clench down, but she withstood the sensation as my finger pushed deeper. Her heavy breaths testified to the challenge, but she persevered. "You did well. Does it feel unpleasant?" "...N-no, it's good... haa..." Her positive feedback prompted me to briefly withdraw my finger before delving in again, provoking Demina to clutch the chair tightly. Watching her, I maintained a gentle rhythm, increasing the pace once she was somewhat adjusted. By then, I introduced my index finger, caressing her deeply with two fingers in a pulling motion. Gradually acclimatizing, her tension eased, and I intensified the movements, accompanied by the slick sound of wetness. Observing her inability to fully articulate her pleasure, I withdrew, wiping my glistening hand before lifting her onto a flat surface. To my surprise, she was lighter than expected. On the table, looking up with trepidation, she awaited my next move. "When this moves in, it might be overwhelming. It's quite expanded..." Though a degree of worry lingered, Demina signaled her readiness by retaining eye contact. Supporting her legs, I gingerly applied the slick prelude of arousal along the head of my shaft, tenderly easing it inside. Feeling the large intrusion, Demina shot her eyes wide, muffling a moan behind her hand. Her body quivered remarkably like when I was with Hare. 'Could it be? Are all women of the Demi races like this?' If so, perhaps conventional experiences would pale in comparison, my musings led to as I slowly pushed deeper—almost satisfied with how readily my girth was accepted. Once there was resistance against further depth, with three-quarters in, I felt a sense of appreciation for my own growth. Meanwhile, Demina was overwhelmed, stifling cries with her palm. Her immense restraint proved a compelling display, which only intensified my proclivities. Unable to resist, I engaged more vigorous movements, her restrained moans escaping nonetheless. The rasp of her breaths and cries seemed to fill the room, and with her hands abandoning their restraint to grip the table, Demina lifted her head to meet my gaze. This inadvertently revealed her toned abdomen and smoothly rippling chest—an aesthetic collaboration of strength and grace. Demina presented an experience that tantalized not only taste but sight and scent, something superbly fulfilling. Deferring gratification, I persistently moved, enveloping the atmosphere with a raw, primal aroma. At last, the relentless immersion and tantalizing sounds drew towards a crescendo. Demina mirrored my intensity, the growing urgency setting the room alive with rhythmic echoes until a piercing ring overwhelmed everything. With a shattering release, my entire being coursed with ecstasy, pouring out every sensation into her welcoming depths. As my seed surged forth, was this a new thrill for Demina, or a confusing swarm of sensations? With an expression of disbelief and uncertain breaths, Demina convulsed slightly, clutching the table as if her grip might break it. The overwhelming situation was more than she seemed able to process at that moment. It was under the haze of intoxication that I was able to share in Demina’s 'first.' It was by no means forced. It was something she had desired herself...