Miaren has to close her eyes to prevent a painful encounter, feeling the slow trickle across her face as the scent continues to fill her nose.  Wet touches her like thickened rain, and instinct causes her tongue to clear the amount that makes it to her lips.<br/><br/>She remembers the taste of Adamion as she was forced to kneel before him.  The musk of the griffon is not too different, and she feel a fresh surge of moisture between her legs.  A soft tensing makes the brush of her tail-plug rustle against her thighs, and she feels the brief splatter against her swollen, straining breasts.<br/><br/>She wonders if he would enjoy it.<br/><br/>The sudden curiosity confuses her - She is a human being, not another griffon.  There is no reason for her womb to embrace his eggs so readily, or for her to contemplate ways to pleasure him... or for her to feel that rising heat as she continues to turn the question around in her mind.