Lancelot sat on the back of Tiamat in her dragon form while the pouting Tyr flew beside them, her back filled with sharp spikes.
The red dragon was nice and comfortable to ride, but when he said, "I wish I could ride you forever, Tiamat, you're such a fine female."
She began to act strange; her voice responded but was quiet, filled with stuttering and whispers, "I-Idiot... who wants to be mounted by you... Forever... that thing would break my insides...."
It seemed that Tiamat was thinking in another direction of riding, and Lancelot understood clearly and didn't deny it as he smirked, looking at the black dragon who was distressed and jealous; those feelings would surge through their connection now that he left his marking on her body.
'I wonder if it was because her ass was the most alluring thing when it was bouncing up and down my shaft...' He thought to himself as to why it wasn't a pelvic tattoo like the other girls who became his main wives.