Primal Lubes of Nothosaur -- Lubricants
JUICE OF GRAEMEN--Balmy Warming Lube
Unleash the warmth of Graemen with every glide. This water-based lubricant gently heats with friction, mimicking the body heat of Graemen.
Colorless. Odorless. Exceptionally smooth. Let Graemen’s warmth seep into every movement.
FAMARIO’S CROTCH --Musk Scented Lube
Famario’s Crotch captures the raw, seductive aroma of Jungle. Earthy, deep, and laced with musky notes, this water-based lube brings you closer to his most intimate essence, bold and intoxicating.
When the scent alone makes you inebriant—It is already won.
Volume: 280ml*
*Please note: fl oz label is incorrect; actual volume in ml is accurate.
JUICE OF GRAEMEN--Warming Lube
It started with just a touch.
Graemen’s paw slid down your spine, slow and teasing, a smirk tugging at his lips.
There’s a glistening wetness on his fingers... a slick, glistening fluid dripped free, trailing down between your thighs.
“Don’t worry, mm…” he whispered, “Just relax. It’s going to feel good...real good... unh…”
At first, it’s cool, a calm before the flame.
But with every thrust, every slow grind, the heat builds.
Like being kissed by fire, licked by something hot and hungry.
It spreads...up your spine, curling behind your neck, until your whole body is burning.
You tremble...back step
But his hands are already there, gripping your hips..
“Where do you think you're going?”
“We’re just getting started...I wannaa-aaahh yeah…”
Burning now...and don’t stop.
FAMARIO’S CROTCH --Musk Scented Lube
You didn’t mean to trespass.
But now he’s behind you...
So close you feel the warmth of his breath sliding along your neck.
So close your body picks up the steady, quiet thrum of his pulse.
Famario says nothing at first.
Just stands behind you, tall, still -- but then you feel it: the press of something hard against your lower back…
That scent hits you: dark musk, wood and fur, something earthy, something hot.
And something else...
Then you feel it.
A firm touch at your back. The soft pull of your strap.
"You've already got my scent on you," he murmurs, voice low, velvet-wrapped danger.
"Might as well stay awhile."
The musk spreads, slow and thick...
coating your skin, slipping between friction and heat until nothing feels untouched.
Your body moves, slick and eager, like it’s learning a rhythm it somehow already knows.
With every movement, his musk clings tighter.
Every glide sinks deeper.
You’re caught.
Completely.