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The mating of birds - an eagle erotica story for Watcher1's KB anniversary

Sarah_1964 · 57

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Offline Sarah_1964

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His swooping flight is almost like a predatory stoop: raw primal avian power, but finessed with such incredible control. I am the prey, but I am not weak: my own wings beat, lifting me on the softly supporting air, spiralling me on the updraft so that now it is I who stoop, and he who cartwheels away. Still, the strength in that male body, the power in those wings, impresses me: stimulates me - a worthy mate, certainly. Like an aerial acrobat he swoops again, a stick in his cruelly curved beak: right at me, like a death stoop - but aside at the last and the stick passed between us, his wings thrashing the air, swoop turned to soar, while below him I spread, glide, in silent acknowledgement.

The branch seized by my talons, grasped, my flight so precise that it hardly sways.

I am ready.

Eager, fast: the mating of birds - yes, even of eagles - brutal, his body mounting me from behind, taking me fast and hard, loud fluttering fucking, more fight than fuck but fucking it is - the rituals observed, the fucking consummated: display, submission, mating.

The mating of eagles.

Try me...