When Cheryl and I gave way to our desires it became a challenge of sexual equals, a match of lustful will. We kissed until the swelling in our lips gave way to a bouquet of raw sores, then combined into a two headed beast of shuddering passion with flailing arms reminiscent of the deliberate flutter of a serpent's tongue. She pressed into my thankful maleness until we could be no closer, then manipulated our fused sex with precise thrusts and parries designed to balance the stimulus of both the lover and the loved. Cheryl controlled my every twitching muscle, prompting a range of reactions from tears to laughter, and from lust to spite.
To gain control was to take it by force, and a fight she gave with great enthusiasm. I pressed down her arms and kept her teeth at bay, while breaking her grip on my not-unwilling todger with a rhythmic dance of hip gyration and deep squatting. Once freed my focus did, by necessity, shift from defense to aggression, turning her shoulders away from me and driving her snarled visage into the bosom of the bed. With the considerable threat of her snapping maw neutralized, I began the assault of her every vulnerable orifice with my throbbing instrument of vengeance. Cries of defeat slowly faded to uninhibited grunts of pleasure, punctuated by fits of frenzied barking and spitting.
The uninitiated could view the display as an otherworldly dark ritual of combat, something intended to foster a blood lust in the eager participants, but they would be missing the beauty of mutually combative sexual conquest. But once the lion had his fill, and the broken feminine form yielded all her fruits for him, her transition from sexual prey to wily puppeteer was complete. The strength of her musk, and the promise of future fruit she would yet yield was beyond the resistances of the lion's massive layers of corded muscle. Despite his eager and capable physical power he would become the marionette to her every whim, and she the wielder of his ample capacity. And the seed she made him spill, the sweat she stole from his skin, would mark the covenant they shared.
The exchange of power complete, Cheryl sealed the agreement with a savage bloodletting, raking her claws across my bare torso with enough ferocity to mark for months to come. This grim reminder of the encounter to prompt a measure of commitment greater than any that can be achieved through the giving of rings, or the swearing to gods. We were two carnal adventurers agreed to brave the harsh wild together, and in doing so sharpening our collective resolve.