FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The elevator ride up to the terrace where the Saetral Springs Spa was located - named after the mythical flying serpent in aematal folklore - was a meditative time. As the lift rose through its tube, the wide window offered its passengers the opportunity to look out over the various other, lower terraces and botanicals of A-102-442, the aematal space station commonly known as the Hanging Gardens. It was the station that the aematal government did its best to put forward, the go-to destination in their space for high-powered business, culture, and pleasure.

Jezsa's handler, Atrina, could hardly see out that window because the man with whom she shared the lift was so incredibly big. Jezsa himself mostly kept his focus on the sights below to distract himself from the cramped feeling, keeping his wings tightly pinned to his back. The garden terraces below immediately drew the eye with their lush foliage, the gentle, artificial breezes allowing those that visited them to float on the warm air through the vines and boughs adorned with rainbows of flowers. Lower still were the business towers that lacked the external balconies for air landings, the glass faces of the offices looking out over the urban sprawl that was, to Jezsa, now a mere shadow at the bottom of his vision, quickly racing out of view.

Atrina, a tall but skinny woman, bordering on bony, gripped the flowing sashes of her garb as she tried to crane her long neck around Jezsa's thick arm to glimpse the view, recoiling when her own smooth arm briefly brushed against his hairy, muscled limb. “Perhaps we should have used the skyport…" she muttered to herself.

“Oh, the Saetral Springs? They don't even have one," Jezsa's deep voice seemed to boom in his broad chest despite speaking at his normal volume. “It's anything but your common neighborhood bathhouse. It's a truly rich, invigorating experience," his spoke sonorously before turning to look down at Atrina and raising a heavy brow. “I'm surprised you didn't know that. Haven't you ever been before?"

“My place is usually behind a desk, keeping an eye on you, if you recall," she said almost curtly, returning his glance. Stiffening her posture, a shudder running through her own snowy wings and tail feathers as she tossed her braided hair, the waifish woman summoned quite a presence as she continued. “Now, it's been a while since you've dealt with clients of our own kind. Are you sure you know what you're doing?" she asked, her tone indicating heavy skepticism.

Jezsa recoiled, the big man raising a hand to the cleft of pectoral muscle and yellow chest hair exposed by his open robe against his dark, honey-colored skin. “I'm offended, Atrina! If I can negotiate with lyotahi and urbosians and every other race this galaxy has to offer, how could I stumble with my own fellows?"

Atrina avoided his gaze, but insisted on answering, “Well, your usual style is rather… physical, and-"

“Nonsense, I won't hear anything of the sort," Jezsa interrupted. “First and foremost, my good friend, I am a man of class. The Saetral Springs is a place for refinement. I fit right in. I'm a regular there, they know me!"

“Alright," Atrina conceded, withholding any further doubts as she raised her wrist to check her PD. The holographic display appeared before her, lines and lines of her personal notes floating in front of her eyes. “This is a very sensitive assignment all the same, Jezsa. The Ruluxia system, even at a distance, is producing resonance readings like nothing we've ever seen before. The knowledge we could gain from that system could advance our understanding of resonance to an entirely new generation. Getting as many research teams as possible stationed there before anyone else will determine who gets to shape that next generation. And the last thing we want are the solarians running the show for the next two hundred years to forever."

“The solarians aren't so bad, you know," Jezsa remarked, holding his arms behind his back, above his golden tail feathers. “They're certainly the most outgoing race I've encountered."

“That's half the problem," Atrina replied, shooting a glance at him before turning back to her notes. “Now, it was difficult enough getting the three most influential investors in the system all together just for lunch, so you only have one chance at this. Do not screw this up," she said, her last words carrying weight with each syllable.

Jezsa just rolled his eyes. “You worry too much, my friend. Your department calls me because I'm the one who closes the tricky deals. You're working with the best." Rolling his neck on his wide shoulders, Jezsa pointed at her PD and said, “I assume you've got your little dossiers?"

“Of course," Atrina said, casting her gaze down at her PD. Holographic displays appeared before her, showing the images of Jezsa's clients. “First up is the head of Stellarwinds Travel Company. Name is Oron Alvartra." The image on her PD displayed a bust of a middle-aged man in a cream, structured business robe, with a salt-and-pepper beard and some shaded glasses. “He's almost certainly interested in Ruluxia as a travel or possibly tourist destination, so it should be fairly simple to convince him of the project as simply a good business investment."

“Easy," Jezsa said with a confident nod.

Atrina didn't say anything, turning instead to the next figure, a younger man with a partially shaved head. “Next is Felvan El-Pentuva. I'm sure you're aware of him; recently awarded the Golden Skies for excellence in resonance. One of the few prodigies who seems to be able to convert his talent into adulthood, and now he's got a team underneath him. He is our brightest mind on the subject, and it would be devastating to lose him for the project. Luckily, he's a bit of a showman himself, so you two should get along."

“I've seen his performances," Jezsa confirmed. “I think he'll be able to appreciate my own abilities, especially if I can lay on a little flattery." Jesza flexed a bicep, watching with a grin as he watched it swell and swell and swell beyond its natural size as he poured some of his quint energy into it before turning that grin toward Atrina.

Atrina didn't even look up from her PD. “The last one I have my doubts with, but the invitation's already been accepted." The PD flashed to the image of a red-haired woman with sharp gaze in her blue eyes. “Biyandi Malia-Tordano. She is Snowlake University's top expert on exoplanets, and has spent the last six years developing new models of galactic resonance-atmosphere composition. If there's anyone of our species who can truly understand what the Ruluxia system is and how it came to be, it's her. She'll be able to determine if the system is able to be developed and what the best uses for it would be."

“Few women can resist my charms. You would know all about that, Atrina," Jezsa said by way of a joke, tossing Atrina a wink.

Atrina didn't react. “She's also a lesbian, married ten months ago to her wife, and expecting a child within two seasons," Atrina added bluntly.

Jezsa let a pause hang in the air. “So is her wife, or…?"

“She took a leave of absence from the University last season for the insemination from her wife's twin brother, announced via her office." Atrina cut to the heart of the question by adding, “So no, I have a feeling your charms might only aggravate her, especially in her state of heightened hormones."

Jezsa rolled her eyes. “All the more reason for Saetral Springs! A foot massage and a hot bath will help with those aches and pains, and bring out that motherly glow!" he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Jezsa, please," Atrina said, closing her PD's display and looking up at him a bit more candidly. “I know how you are with our other clients, and while your methods may not be the sort of thing I often discuss in mixed company," she began, her gaze faltering and her voice dropping, “I understand them and why they work. You connect physically with others. You play to their sense of the exotic, the erotic. You… loosen them up, for lack of a better phrase," she said, her face flushing, indicating that she wished dearly she did have a better phrase.

“What's your point?" Jezsa asked, his own voice softened.

“My point is that other aematals aren't going to see you as exotic, and with the way you look, I would be surprised if they saw you as erotic. You can't seduce your way through this one. I need you to give me a clean record of events to include in my report; I can't be spending hours carefully choosing my words to sanitize this one before sending it off to my superiors. I need you to use your words." Atrina even reached out to touch his beefy forearm. “Promise me to think with your brain on this one, and not your… lower organs?"

Jezsa recoiled from the touch, his expression terribly offended. “Atrina, I know that you value professionalism, but how long have we known each other? I know my methods might make this working relationship of ours awkward from time to time, but we're both adults, and we're both committed to our work. That's why we work so well together. Have I ever let you down before?" Atrina was about to answer before he added, “In a way outside of my methods?"

Atrina's lips were drawn as she folded her arms, but she replied, “Every time I send you on some assignment like this, I think to myself, 'I don't know how he's going to manage this one,' and somehow you do. Usually with details I'd prefer not to know, but you do. This assignment is different, but somehow… Somehow I really do believe, deep down, you'll come through for us." She sighed. “I just wish it didn't involve so much…"

“Humping?" Jezsa supplied with a smirk.

“It's not my style. And I'm grateful that you respect me enough not to make a move on me," Atrina replied. “Believe me, I understand the restraint it must take for a man ready to mount anything that moves to be a gentleman. But I really need you to be that gentleman for our aematal clients here, too."

As the elevator came to a stop, Jezsa opened his arms and scooped Atrina up into a big hug, squeezing her into his beefy chest. “Oh, Atrina, my old friend. One day you'll understand that I'm at my best manners after my pants come off, not before."

Jezsa turned to exit, facing the doors of the Saetral Springs, leaving Atrina first to clutch her chest after his powerful squeeze, and then to look at his back while he already started to remove his robe, sighing worriedly to herself.

Jezsa's PD confirmed his membership status as he walked past, but the staff barely had to confirm his profile. He was indeed a regular, and they were more than ready to take his garments and provide him with a towel. Jezsa made a good-faith attempt to wrap it around his waist, but the point was almost entirely moot as the head of his penis easily dangled below the edge of the fabric, down to the top of his calves, and the curve of his shaft made a clear impression against the draped towel as well. Still, as it was a high-class spa, Jezsa's display was at most a faux-pas, easily ignored once he was in the water.

Jezsa's massive, hairy body drew plenty of gazes as he stepped into the pool area of the spa. It was one large structure, but built with several round pools connected by various channels and eddies that allowed staff to reach the customers to attend to their needs. Steam rose gently off the water, and the clients kept to their groups, enjoying fine food and drink, while screens nearby displayed just about anything the clients desired to provide the proper atmosphere for their private-not-private gathering. But even among the perfectly simulated late-evening lighting and atmosphere, the crystal glasses and marble accents, and the expensive fragrances mixing with the smell of elite wine, Jezsa was a novelty.

The aematal men who were present were all lean, their bodies slender and built like dancers to accentuate their elegance, with hardly a hard line of muscle to spoil the flow of the eye from one area to the other. There was nary a chest hair between their flawless pectorals, a common trait among aematal men, and what hair may have lurked between their thighs or under their arms had been shaved or even permanently removed, as was the fashion. Anything to give their bodies the same quality as their flight; gliding effortlessly from one part to the next. The women were much the same, slender and petite, with long limbs that they draped over the edges of their pools or their companions.

Not Jezsa. Not only did he dwarf even the tallest of his male counterparts, at least double their height, he outdid them in bulk by orders of magnitude incalculable. His naked body bulged with muscle, his dark, caramel skin stretched taut over every knot of power beneath, his biceps and shoulders and pecs and abdominals and more creating a mountain range of peaks and valleys, with one dramatic swell only giving way to the next. His body communicated the opposite of grace and inherent, immaculate beauty: power and raw testosterone. His arms and thighs moved like heavy machinery with their rhythmic, visible flexes and unflexes. His nipples were thick and pronounced, two huge, swollen accents to his form. His penis swung like a grotesque pendulum, its motion clearly visible even with his towel. But possibly most striking of all was that Jezsa was so intensely, unavoidably hairy. Between his pectorals, striking against his dark, warm skin tone, was a rug of thick golden curls that nearly covered the plane from bulging nipple to bulging nipple. That rug trailed down into a tangle between his hewn abdominal muscles, tracing each curve of the lines of his stomach, before failing to disappear into his towel, a burst of thicker yellow hair clearly marking where his massive bush of pubes began, revealing that the visible base of his dick, and the unseen scrotum beneath, was just as hairy as the rest of him. His arms and legs were no different, crisscrossed with yellow hatches and bunches against the muscle. Even his absurdly massive shoulders couldn't hide the thick mats of yellow hair that peeked out from his overgrown armpits. While many who witnessed him enter and pass by couldn't look away, just as many couldn't bear to look at him any longer. He was everything he wasn't supposed to be.

Jezsa settled into the warm water with a sigh, happily spreading his thighs and arms over the back of the pool, proudly fanning out his body for all to admire. The wait staff approached him somewhat gingerly, a sleek aematal man with his hair tied back and wearing a sleeveless, white uniform of a vest and shorts. “Welcome back, sir. Can I fetch you anything during your stay?" he asked.

“Some good Solarian wine, please, and some riverberry lotion for a massage," Jezsa ordered confidently. “And you can take this," he said, reaching beneath the water now to remove the towel and hold it up to the attendant. The man's mouth was drawn in a tight line, but he accepted the last garment barely-perceptible chagrin, trying not to look at the massive slab of cock now fully exposed beneath the water, hidden only by the churning distortion and the faint, bubbling steam. With a prim bow, the waiter left, returning shortly with a long glass of wine and a small carafe of the lotion. While Jezsa sipped with satisfaction, the bath attendant got to work rubbing the bulging muscles between Jezsa's great wings and along his shoulders.

Before long, Jezsa could see his diplomatic guests arrive one by one, right on time. The first was Oron, the travel mogul. In his towel, he had a stocky build compared to most aematals, but his skin was still smooth, his hair and beard neatly trimmed and carefully coiffed, his gaze observant behind his shaded glasses. He looked precisely the part of a suave, put-together executive, just a little rounder around the middle than most. When he saw Jezsa at the reserved spot, he froze mid-gait, blinking several times, but not allowing his face to truly react before he carefully approached, his eyes locked onto the naked man awaiting him.

Next was Felvan, the prodigy. A master of multiple resonant styles, his body was lean and sculpted with muscle showing faint lines of definition across his arms and chest. Tall and handsome, he passively fluttered his wings as he moved, a sort of habit he seemed to possess. His short hair was styled with a flourishing curl, and his torso was accented by colorful tattoos that trailed down his body and disappeared behind the towel wrapped around his waist. He was much less composed in his reaction when he spotted Jezsa; stopping suddenly and nearly causing another attendant to crash into him as he recoiled, eyes wide, looking utterly shocked and bewildered. Still, the stun wore off after a few moments, and he carefully started to approach again, looking still in disbelief, though whether it was that Jezsa was the diplomat, or simply Jezsa's massive size, Jezsa couldn't tell.

Lastly entered Biyandi, the easiest to spot among the crowd, her skin a similar dark color to Jezsa's, her wings and hair raven black, and her form clearly pregnant as Atrina had stated. A hand rested daintily at her swollen belly, her bare breasts sagging swollen and engorged with broad, dark nipples on her otherwise soft, curvy frame. Her dark eyes spotted Jezsa, and while her expression hardly changed, the color of her face, the light in her eyes all seemed to shift to that of weary realization. She could handle sharing a social bath with strangers, even men, but the mountain of muscle and body hair she saw getting his arms massaged was another matter entirely.

Jezsa's clients approached the reserved spot more or less together, shedding their towels for a brief moment as they slid into the water. “You must be Jezsa, the diplomat. Pleased to meet you," Oron said quite diplomatically himself. He extended a limb, resting a palm on Jezsa's massive bicep in a usual aematal greeting, although he removed his hand as soon as he felt Jezsa's huge muscles twitch even the slightest as Jezsa moved to return the gesture, the power seeming to electrify him.

Felvan lingered the longest at the edge of the water, clearly hesitating to get in. “I have to say, this is quite a surprise. Half-lyotahi?" Felvan said, although Jezsa managed not to react to the rude comment.

Finally, Biyandi entered, taking her time and an attendant's hand to lower her heavy body into the water. She sighed as the heat soaked into her form, not bothering to remark on Jezsa, only groaning, “Oh, that's better…"

Still, it was difficult for Jezsa not to take note of their nude bodies. He wasn't leering – he would never – but there was a lot to appreciate, and he knew better than most that you could tell a lot more about a person from their naked bodies than the clothes they chose to wear. For example, he could tell by Oron's thick body shape and the shadow of stubble he could see on the man's chest and under his arms that he was only concerned with appearances to the point of necessity, but didn't obsess over it. And why would he, when Jezsa could see that his manhood was plenty impressive, thick and long with a hefty pair on him to boot; he had all the confidence he needed between his legs. Compared to Felvan, whose colorful script tattoos and finely-honed body implied that, despite his handsome features, he cared very much about maintaining his status as elite and perfect. So it was no wonder he slipped into the water quickly, perhaps subconsciously embarrassed of the more modest member he sported. Biyandi's appearance, likewise, was a trove of information, from her swollen ankles showing the toll the pregnancy was taking on her body, but her smooth labia between her softened thighs told that she still retained her vanity, even if she couldn't reach every part of herself around her bulging abdomen. Altogether, these were people used to playing the negotiation game, who understood the value of appearances and first impressions, and understood how they were perceived and how to read the clues others gave them.

Jezsa spoke warmly as they sat around him in a loose circle in their reserved spot. Waving the massage attendant to stop, he spread his arms and wings graciously as he said, “I'd like to thank you all for coming. Why don't we start with lunch? A round of wine and northern salad, perhaps?" With another silent bow, the attendant rushed off to prepare the meal.

“No wine for me, obviously," Biyandi said dryly. “Although I do wonder who you think you're fooling with a simple salad," she added.

Jezsa maintained his decorum graciously, turning to her with a smile as he said, “I recommend the salad here for flavor, not nutrition. I'm quite familiar with their menu, and I think it's the best start to a meal, that's all."

“I'd rather not waste time," Oron said as he settled back into the water, spreading out not unlike Jezsa, although he didn't take up nearly as much space. “I want to hear exactly what it is you hope to get out of this little meeting, Jezsa."

“I don't like to think of these things as mere transaction," Jezsa replied as the attendants arrived once more, handing him a glass of wine that he took by the stem with a practiced ease in his thick fingers. “Forgive the crude comparison, but I like to think of business like making love; ideally, all parties involved leave the table satisfied."

Felvan scoffed. “Here we go…" he said.

Jezsa turned to the leaner man, raising a brow as he sipped his wine while the plates were distributed on floating trays, weighted to stay put in the bubbling water. “Whatever do you mean?" he asked smoothly.

“I had my suspicions that we wouldn't be meeting with any ordinary diplomat," he explained. “When I saw the name on the reservation, it wasn't one of any official I recognized, so I did my research. Needless to say, I discovered quite a… colorful history," he said pointedly. After taking a sip of his own glass, he added under his breath, “Much of it filmed…"

Jezsa didn't allow himself to blush. “I make no apologies for who I am or my past. I don't regret my love life, but I hardly think it's relevant to our business today."

“Isn't it?" Biyandi said. “Else, why would they have sent you?"

Jezsa was forced to pause; astonished by the passive aggression of the others. “Perhaps I should introduce myself properly," he tried to wrest back control of the conversation. “I am Jezait-alm-Nurida. Officially, I am an Exo-Ambassador for the Aematali Intergalactic Council and a consulting expert on solarian culture. However, you're probably more familiar with my other work; I'm a wine and food critic who's published in many different journals, and occasionally a fashion model." He steeled his gaze over the three and added, “And yes, I have also starred in several adult films across the exonet. I'm also a champion superheavyweight bodybuilder, with four consecutive gold medals in the prestigious Mars Muscle Pageant." With a self-satisfied grin, he raised his arms in a powerful flex, his biceps swelling and bulging right before the eyes of the others. His pecs bulged as well, consuming his torso with the building might, even his nipples growing thicker from the action as he bared himself in all his beefy, hairy glory. His manhood likewise throbbed between his powerful thighs, awakening from its flaccid state.

“Ugh, put all of that away," Biyandi scoffed, turning her head and shielding her face with a hand in disgust.

Jezsa's pose and face drooped at once, deflating in more ways than one at her sharp words.

Oron interjected, unable to keep his eyes from looking at Jezsa's huge penis stirring beneath the water with his own disdain. “Well, perhaps that impresses the solarians, but I'm not interested in their ways or culture. If I'm here, I know you're after my investment."

“Yes, I presume this must be about the Ruluxia system?" Biyandi recovered, but still looked entirely unimpressed with Jezsa as she picked at her salad. “It's too soon to assemble a full team of exoplanet researchers, even if it is a terrestrial planet with a resonance field. I've been on these sorts of research squads before; too often they wind up amounting to nothing. I can't be the lead of a major research project with a baby on the way, not until the planet has been more thoroughly probed and we have some actually interesting data to guarantee it won't turn out to be like the other resonant-atmosphere terrestrials."

“I must assume that's what this is all about as well, given that we're all here," Felvan agreed. “It's true, isn't it? You're here to assemble a team and funding for Ruluxia?"

Jezsa felt the weight of their eyes press in on him. “You've certainly done your homework," he said. He sidled up next to Felvan, wrapping an arm and a wing around the edge of the pool beside him, swirling the wine in his glass with the other. Felvan shrunk away from him. “I won't insult you with deception; that is what this lunch is about. But as I said, I believe we can all benefit from cooperation in this opportunity. And as the old saying goes: the fish that rises with the sun catches the first dropberries."

Oron folded his arms over his chest, also not seeming convinced. “Even if the solarians or the nargata get there first, that doesn't mean they'll find anything worth finding first. Once it's confirmed that there's resources there, we could show up late and still come out ahead with our research and development teams. That's always been the specialty of aematals, after all."

Felvan nodded. “We're hoping for a bounty of resonance-wave data and research? Then I imagine our neighbors will be coming to us. The other races are lucky if they can detect a tele-resonant shockwave blowing their room up."

“Now, let's not be too hasty," Jezsa said, again trying to steer the conversation as he liked. He was surprised at how quick they were to jump to judgments and conclusions, hardly touching their food or wine. When he met with the other races, they were happy to talk, get to know each other, compare experiences and share stories. These three hardly wanted anything to do with him. But he knew he could get them to slow down, to see things his way, to relax and allow his charm to work on them. “One can never consider these things too carefully. Why don't we get our platter and eat a little, think on things?" He signaled for the waiter to bring their meals, arranged on a large floating tray with several plates for the group to pick through, to share and eat as they pleased. Jezsa made sure to keep the conversation going, but changed the topic slightly as he said, “I may not be an expert, but I've been noted to be quite a talent in biomorphic resonance as well. Believe me when I say I understand how valuable the discoveries of the system could be."

Felvan raised an eyebrow incredulously. “You're resonant?"

Biyandi chimed in. “You couldn't tell? Some prodigy," she chuckled. “Look at him. If all that isn't some biomass shift, I don't know what is."

Oron nodded in agreement. “I hear that muscle biomorphing is all the rage among the urbosians. No wonder he's popular with aliens."

Again, pushing past their comments, Jezsa recovered graciously. “On the contrary, my body as you see it now is all natural," he said.

Each looked at him with varying degrees of shock. “Nothing about that is natural," Oron blurted out.

“It's part of what makes me such a successful model," Jezsa replied smoothly. “It's critical to my personal philosophy; while I would never begrudge anyone to make choices or enhancements to their appearance, I believe in embracing a certain degree of natural beauty as well. I've always had a large, masculine form - and yet, I've spent half a lifetime cultivating loveliness from my strength. Really, beauty and power are one in the same."

“If you say so," Biyandi said rather dismissively as she ate. “I bet the lyotahi go crazy for all that hair and muscle," she added with a frown.

“I can't imagine it makes flying easy, even before biomorphing," Felvan observed.

Jezsa replied, “I actually find it most useful in my pageant and modeling pursuits, as I've mentioned before. A designer I work with very much loves designing for biomorphic bodies, and you should see my routine for the Mars show!" He didn't wait to be asked about it, knowing the three wouldn't. Instead, Jezsa decided to show them, striking another pose, stretching his arms high above his head, crossing his wrists elegantly while he started to focus his resonant power.

Before they could say anything, the group could already see the changes taking shape. Again, Jezsa's muscles began to swell with power, but it wasn't the taut ballooning of flexed muscles beneath tight skin, but the growth of flesh itself, expanding right before their eyes as Jezsa grew larger and larger. He focused his energy on expanding his proportions, his head remaining the same, but his arms growing thicker and thicker, his pectorals swallowing his neck, his core growing outward as did his legs. Soon, he looked much like a giant.

The three were in utter awe, unable to look away. Jezsa was certain he had them right where he wanted them.

So then he flexed.

Bringing his arms down slightly, he clenched his arms, his chest, every muscle he could. His body seemed to snap to attention, his biceps and triceps bunching up with massive knots of power, his pectorals ballooning outward dramatically with soft, supple strength as his nipples grew thick and hard likewise. His cock started to grow and stiffen from the sensations coursing through his form, quickly springing upward with arousal, but it was unavoidable; the tightness in his arms, the flow of power and energy through his abdomen, swirling in his chest like a current that made his nipples buzz was too intense to ignore. “Mmm, that's one of my signature moves," Jezsa said, his voice almost like a moan.

The three were stunned, speechless as they watched the spectacle unfold. For all his power, Jezsa seemed unable to stop himself. “Here, look at another. This is what won me my last medal," He said, twisting himself, Felvan scrambling away in the water as Jezsa's cock swung through the pool toward him as the huge man turned his body. With another flex of his arms, he struck a pose, displaying the massive muscles of his back that bunched along his wings, even those appendages looking swollen with power and definition beneath the light feathers as they arched outward delicately in contrast to his mountainous biceps. In profile, his chest looked even more obscene, two massive boulders of pliant muscle capped by two throbbing nipples. Jezsa only grew bigger, a combination of his flexing and his resonance, and he was now easily half again larger than he was when he entered the pool - and he was already a giant to begin with! That energy coursing through every part of his body made his penis throb powerfully beneath him, his testes clenching with pent-up tension, but it was their awestruck eyes glued to his body, that he could feel on his very skin, that took things to the next level. He couldn't help precum from flowing out of the head of his cock in thick, gooey globs, splashing into the water, his wine glass all but forgotten as it tumbled out of his fingers and splashed into the pool.

“Ohh, spirits…" he groaned, opening his eyes to see the expressions of stun, shock, fear, and somehow utter fascination on the faces of his clients. They might not be fawning over him, but they couldn't look away, and Jezsa couldn't feel the difference. “Impressive, isn't it? How huge I am? Don't worry; I can get much bigger than this!" he said, his voice soft like a dove's coo despite the sweat that trickled from his arms through his armpits, down his temples and into his chest hair, soaking with the steam that matted the yellow curls. He stretched his arms up again, bringing his entire body in all its beefy, hairy, erect glory to bear, lacing his fingers together in a tight fist before winking down at his audience. “Here's the best part," he purred to them.

Squeezing his fists together, his entire body seemed to pop with another surge of power. His arms became gargantuan heaps of muscular bulges stacked atop one another, his pectorals seemed to swallow his torso, and his cock began to throb and twitch potently, needily, as the flow of his precum became a steady ooze. But that burst of energy, that incessant buzz of tight, taut strength just beneath his skin, coursing through every fiber of his immense muscles was just too much to handle. What sent him over the edge were the eyes on him - no longer just his clients, but now the attendants, the other bathers, no one could take their eyes off of the massive aematal man, now twice his normal size, a behemoth soaking himself in a pool too small for him.

He could feel those eyes on his muscles. Every part of him was huge; he could feel it! Every pound of his heart made his muscles plump and pump larger, his nipples and balls buzzing, clenching, his stretched skin rubbing against itself as biceps brushed shoulders which squeezed against his pectorals pressed tightly together by their own sheer size. Even his thighs couldn't help but squish against his massive, hairy cock, twitching faster and harder now.

Ultimately, that final pose was just a step too far. Jezsa hadn't intended it fully, but the thrill, the rush of power through his body was too much. He could feel himself going over the edge; a spine-tingling orgasm welling up from his root, up his core, burning in his lungs and in every muscle he had. He could only clench them harder, coaxing the pleasure and tension out further. “Oh, spirits…! Oh, yes!" he groaned.

Then, Jezsa exploded. His cock blasted a massive load of cum that arced through the air, splattering into the pool and the far edge, far more than any normal man or beast should be able to produce, and in one shot. But the torrent was unleashed, Jezsa only swelling larger, cumming harder, moaning in ecstasy at his own excess, and the way no one could take their eyes off of him, even in this intense breach of propriety.

“What the fuck!?" Oron swore, jumping out of the water, reaching for a towel as he blushed red with fury.

“Absolutely not! I'm leaving!" Biyandi shouted, hauling herself out despite her awkward form, striding toward the exit as an attendant raced after to assist her.

Felvan looked furious as well. “Jezsa! Control yourself!" he demanded, but it was no use.

“Ohh, oh spirits…!" Jezsa moaned again, riding out the high with rolling eyes. A part of him knew that he had blown the meeting irrevocably, but in the moment, it didn't matter. He knew - for better or for worse - that he was putting on the performance of a lifetime, a grand and impressive display of beauty and virility interwoven together, shown as one and the same. If no one else was going to mark it, appreciate it, bask in it, then he would. “That's it…! Oh, fuck…!" he grunted, his climax splattering onto the trays and platters, churning the bubbling waters a milky white while the other bathers jumped out at the spectacle, and the attendants rushed to escort their largest regular off the premises.

Given his massive size and might, they'd have to wait for his orgasm to conclude before they did so. The spa pool seemed to be more cum than water by such a time.

---

Jezsa removed his PD from his person after staring at the screen for a few moments too long, setting it on the table beside his bed. He stared out the window of his room, sipping on the next glass of wine, having uncorked a special reserve for a dreary night such as this. The station was shifting to a peaceful, warm night, but it felt only cool and lonely, his loose robe still feeling a little too tight, his muscles still swollen from the incident at the spa earlier that day.

He hadn't yet told Atrina. She hadn't yet asked, knowing it was often better to leave him to his own devices and not ask how he reaped the rewards he returned with, but he couldn't bear to report his failure either. It was a problem for tomorrow.

The bitterness of the wine on his tongue felt like a pleasant slap, the warmth spreading on his palate like the stinging heat after a blow. It was truly perfect, just the right bite to swallow his feelings with. It was a nargrata brand; he never could find much to appreciate about aematal wine. Why must his people be the way they were? Yes, he knew he had taken things too far at the spa. On no planet would his actions have been completely tolerated in a public space. But certainly, others indeed like the lyotahi or the urbosians might have been quietly impressed. When he met with them, they understood that he was a rare beast; they could appreciate the artistic qualities of virility, strength, and even pleasure. Their cultural vocabularies were more suited to him, their bodies, fashions, movements, and underlying philosophies all belonging to the same language. Yet the aematals could not comprehend him.

It had always been this way. Even before he had started to develop into a man, he'd had a fascination with the heroes of Solarian folklore, caped men with muscles and impossible abilities. He loved the art of the lyotahi and the urbosians, the way they couldn't help but embrace their size, their natural power, entirely normal and invisible to them, but exotic and beautiful in his eyes. When he started to grow larger, stronger than his peers, when he started to sprout a beard and chest hair before any of the other boys, he was told often to shave, to diet, to slim down, that he could be so beautiful if he just did this or that.

But he never wanted to become beautiful. He wanted to prove that he already was.

He finished his glass of wine, grimacing at the harsh edge heating his throat; too much too fast. He didn't know what this would mean for him. The Saetral Springs would likely ban him, which was a damn shame. Best case scenario, he would no longer be asked to work on aematal colonies, and he would be effectively ostracized from his homelands, his own culture and people. Perhaps that was for the best. But as he stared out the window, the sight before him utterly irrelevant to his thoughts, he knew that it was entirely likely that he would face more consequences. He might be removed as an ambassador entirely, especially if his actions broke to the exonet as a scandal. He'd be lucky if Atrina even vouched for him, and he doubted he'd ever speak to her again, losing a career and a close friend in the same stroke. Hell, at this rate, he'd be lucky if aematal porn productions even wanted to hire him.

He should have known better. As he smacked his lips, he repeated the thought to himself. It seemed to be an undercurrent of his life. No matter how high he soared, he could never quite escape the gravity of regret pulling him back to earth.

His door opened suddenly without a knock. He turned to see the aematal woman there, but it wasn't Atrina.

“Marida," Jezsa said, practically breathing her name. “What are you doing here?"

Marida was not quite like other aematal women; thick-set, her wrappings were made of coarser, dark material, yet still hugged her generous curves. Her round face was framed by chin-length lavender hair, accented by golden piercings in her ears that matched the little stripes beneath her bright eyes and cold, pale skin. She blinked, unamused. “By law, I have to be here so we can schedule your next visit. Remember? Your son?"

Jezsa blinked back, stunned. “Oh, right… That was today, wasn't it?"

Marida closed the door but strolled inside, her arms folded over her ample chest. “I should tell the judicial council that you forgot - again. At this point, I'm amazed they still let you see Jandha at all."

“Jandha still wants to see me," Jezsa defended himself weakly. “He gets a say in this, too. I know you hate me, but I'm not a bad man, nor a bad father."

Another roll of her eyes. “Forgetting to pull out when I told you to was pretty irresponsible. And constantly having to install filters and scrubs on Jandha's PD so he doesn't see that his father is a fancy whore isn't exactly ideal either."

Jezsa groaned, rubbing his forehead. “Do you have to do this every time? If you didn't want to be pregnant, we could have avoided it. I seem to remember you begging me for a second round right after, so if we want to talk about sluttiness, I'd be happy to," he said, gritting his teeth.

Marida scoffed. “You are such an insufferable dick, you know that?"

Jezsa sighed, exasperated, going for another sip of wine and finding his glass empty. Disappointed, he said, “I'm probably free for the next two weeks at least, if not longer. Bring Jandha by anytime you like. I'll get us tickets to… something."

Marida raised an eyebrow, seeming to take pleasure in the pain she detected. “Oh? You're not busy? What happened, Jezsa? Did your shining star fall at last with the exo-council?"

Jezsa shot her a withering look. “I don't want to talk about it with you," he said pointedly.

A third time Marida rolled her eyes. She sauntered toward the bed, already taking her clothes off, slipping off her upper wrappings to reveal her plump breasts. “Whatever you say, Jezsa. Are you at least going to do the one thing you're good for?"

Normally, Jezsa would swallow his pride and accept the offer of sex with his ex. Every time, he told himself he should refuse, but a part of him clung to the idea that they might find a way to work through their hostility, that she might be impressed enough by a good performance to soften to him. But now, her demand only made his anger well up within him, his face reddening. “I am not some alien sex bot you can order around! I have had - to put it fucking mildly - a terrible day! I'm - not - in - the - mood."

Marida's hands clasped the sides of her bottom wrappings, mid-disrobing, looking at him with some surprise. “Oh? A bad day? I guess you really did fuck up some important meeting or other after all," she said, her lips curling with a relishing smile. “You do it to yourself, you know," she added softly, barely audible to him.

Jezsa sighed. “...I know," he replied.

Marida just exhaled. Turning around, she simply said, “So are you going to sit by the window and pout with your wine all night, or are you going to make yourself useful and fuck me?" And just like that, the last of her clothes fell away, and she was bent over on Jezsa's bed, her ass thick, parting to reveal the soft, wet folds of her pussy, ready for him to plunder.

Jezsa hesitated. For a long moment, he stood still. But it was all a show; he knew where this would end up the moment she entered the room.

Striding over to her, he shed his clothes with professional speed, mounting the bed, nude and hard. “You are such a bitch," he seethed at her.

Grabbing her hips, he rammed his massive cock into her all at once, causing her to yelp and moan at the same time, the intense, sudden stretch more than most bodies were equipped to handle. “Ohh, fuck…!" she cried out, her back arching into him, mashing her rump into his pubes. “I might be a bitch, but you're my bitch, Jezsa," she moaned, turning to smirk at him, taunting, teasing while she ground herself to his root. “Now, don't hold back on me. I want to feel it tomorrow."

Jezsa felt a snarl well up in his chest. He hated himself for being here, hated the familiar grip of her tight pussy around his huge dick, hated the way she spoke to him. But most of all, he hated how he gave in every time. She liked it rough, and he was the only aematal man with the power to satisfy her; he wanted the opportunity to truly unleash on someone, on her most of all, to take out all of his bitterness and regret on her ass, to attempt to punish her for hurting him.

He didn't say anything else. He fucked her as hard as he could. His muscles bulged obscenely with his power, the bed rocking like it might collapse with every thrust. Sweat poured down his body again, but now it encouraged him, the proof of his strength and effort. Marida's body pitched with each impact of his hips against her backside, wailing moans and yelps forced out of her lungs, her rump rippling when his thick bush slammed into her, wet squelches reaching his ears as his huge nuts slapped against her folds, slamming her clit, juices leaking down his flesh and onto the bed.

“Ohh, that's it! Fuck me, you big, hung, hairy animal!" Marida screamed to him, her voice mixing with the table clattering and the bed rocking, along with the meaty thwack of flesh. Jezsa only grunted in reply, feeling white-hot pleasure course through him, angry and bitter like his wine. It stung to see his cock disappearing into her pussy again, knowing he should be better than this, but it felt so good to rear a hand up and spank her ass hard enough to leave a red welt on her cheek, and to see her back arch in reply, hear her beg for more.

He couldn't be sure how long he fucked her, but Jezsa wasn't one to finish quickly. Marida reached her climax several times, clenching around him, her body milking him, but still she begged for more. The windows of his room fogged with steam, the sheets a mess with sweat and fluids, the bed frame begging for mercy, the wine bottle beside his bed having long clattered to the floor and rolled away.

“Yes! Yes! Ohh, spirits, that's it! Give it to me, you fucking beast!" Marida roared again, her words stinging, the burn only spurning him further. But as he wiped sweat from his brow, his hips still pounding into her, Marida surprised him, wriggling away from him when her orgasm finished, his cock slipping out of her with a pop as she twisted around to face him.

She laid on her back, splayed out before him, wings, arms, and legs, grinning up at him. “I'm all yours," she purred to him. “Show me what you really want to do to me."

With a bellow, Jezsa pounced on her. Gripping an ankle in one hand, he forced her leg up and thighs apart as far as they could as he planted himself deep in her, his hips pumping in broad strokes, her belly bulging slightly as his massive dick slammed to its depth inside of her. He watched her body rock with each thrust, her breasts swaying, her eyes listless with rough delight as her mouth hung open in an endless, gasping moan.

But then he surprised even himself when his other hand reached out, his fingers closing around her neck, and he squeezed.

Marida's hand shot out, her fingers wrapping around his clenched digits, but there was no way she could ever hope to pry him off of her. Jezsa's hips pumped harder and faster than ever, fucking the life out of her, watching her scramble as her eyes started to shudder. Yet he could feel her getting wetter, see her lips curling into a grin, her body writhing in a way he knew all too well. Yet for him, there was also fear. Fear that she'd finally pushed him too far. That he would finally punish her for rejecting him, for insulting him, for refusing to acknowledge his personhood, treating him like an ugly, brutish beast. She was just like all the others, and now he keenly felt the strength that had always lurked beneath the surface of his skin coming to bear.

Legs kicking, gasping for air and finding none, Marida's body wrenched as she started to cum hard. Jezsa could feel her squirting around his cock, gushing into his pubes as he fucked her, his muscles throbbing with his full strength, sweat pouring down his body in streaming rivulets. He could do it. He was going to do it. And then she'd be sorry. Then they would all be sorry.

“Fuck!" he gasped. His eyes rolled upward, his chest heaved with massive, panting breaths. His balls clenched, pulling tight to his body.

Jezsa pulled out, his grip releasing Marida's throat as he started to jack himself off, looming over her spluttering, coughing form. He started to cum, harder than he ever had in his life. He could hardly see through the explosion of stars in his vision, but the glimpses of still images he got, of Marida's body splattered with his jizz in a humiliating visage, cowed beneath him, reduced to a cheap cum-slut with no more harsh words to say was a pleasure like he'd never known before.

He collapsed onto his bed with a final creaking groan, naked, sweaty, spent, his chest heaving for breath. Marida laid beside him, rubbing her throat, but not unhappy in the slightest.

It was a long moment before either said anything, the cold, dim night creeping into the silence between them.

“I shouldn't have done that…" Jezsa admitted finally. He was talking about any number of things.

Marida only replied with a half-chuckle, still fighting for air. “Jezsa, that's what you're best at. If you're going to look like a lyotahi, you might as well fuck like one."

Jezsa wanted to tell her to get out, but he didn't have the strength. He just reached for a cloth to dab at the sweat soaked into his beard and chest hair, but it was little use. His cock still pulsed weakly, oozing more globs of cum that soaked into his poor mattress. “I'm not a lyotahi," was all he managed to say.

At last, Marida didn't have the energy left to argue with him. She just snatched the cloth from him, wiping as much of his sperm off her face for the sake of her own comfort before she said, “Whatever you say, Jezsa. Jandha is with a friend's family now, but I can bring him by in three days. Try to have something planned for him."

Jezsa just nodded. “Right… okay," he said softly, his voice almost a whisper.

A beat passed. Marida smiled. “That was good, by the way. Choking me?" she said softly. “You can do that again tomorrow morning before I leave."

She rolled over. Jezsa stared blankly up at the ceiling. He nodded. “Okay."

---

By mid-morning, Jezsa was still laying in bed. Marida had long left, but Jezsa hadn't found the strength to get up, despite himself. He knew it was only a matter of time, but he dreaded every second that passed until the fateful moment.

He'd ignored several messages on his PD from Atrina asking for updates on his negotiations. It wasn't unusual for him to have gaps in communication when he was… “busy." But by now, she must have known something was amiss.

Sure enough, there was another knock on his door. “Jezsa? Are you in there?" It was Atrina's voice.

Jezsa didn't expect her to come in person. He was completely unprepared, and that only made him feel worse about his current state. But that sense of rock bottom also brought with it a sense of nihilism, so he finally responded with a mutter, “Come in."

Atrina entered again, dressed sensibly and professionally, peeking into the bedroom where he lay. All morning, he wallowed in bed, half-covered by rumpled sheets, the remnants of sweat, sex, and a sleepless night formed a distinct pall over his appearance. She reacted visibly to the sight of him, but managed to maintain some measure of decorum in her tone. “Oh, there you are!" Then, a beat. “Are you alright, Jezsa…?"

“Sorry, Atrina," he apologized. “I… I wasn't able to close the deal. I could try drafting official proposals for the council to send, and maybe they'll reconsider," he started.

“I know, Jezsa. I heard that there was an incident at the Springs," she replied. Jezsa expected her to be mad or annoyed, but instead she looked genuinely concerned. Gingerly, as if he was a great, wild animal, she approached the bed. “Is that what's got you so upset? That you're ignoring me? One bad deal?" she asked softly. “You don't look like there's been a lack of… 'business,' shall we say," she added, fighting a grimace.

Jezsa heaved a huge sigh, his chest blocking her view of his face as it rose and fell. He stretched his forearm over his eyes and quietly admitted, “Marida came last night."

Immediately, Atrina's expression changed to a sparked outrage. “Oh! That cruel woman?" With a ruffle of her wings, Atrina ventured, “You didn't…"

Jezsa nodded bitterly. “Twice."

Overcoming her sense of boundaries, Atrina managed to sit on the bed and rest a hand on Jezsa's thigh. “Oh, Jezsa…"

“I know I shouldn't have. I hate myself every time this happens," he muttered, still blocking his eyes, not wanting to see the look on Atrina's face when she beheld his bare body like this. “Those three at the springs already made me feel like some kind of freak, and then Marida just makes me feel even worse. She treats me like I'm an animal, some roc or… domesticated brood-beast." The images of Jezsa's hand closing around Marida's neck flashed behind his eyes. “Perhaps she's right," he whispered. He felt tears welling up in his eyes, big and hot and unbidden.

Atrina could see his big, soft, hairy body trembling with emotion as he fought back tears. “You know that's not true," she replied softly.

Jezsa managed to look at her, flinging his arm down, sitting up with glassy eyes. “Then why? Why do my own people treat me like this?" he demanded. Then, softer, “Even you move around me like I'm going to hurt you just by being around you. You can't even stand to touch me."

Atrina faltered. She knew he was right. “I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt your feelings," she said. “I'm not used to being around men like you. You're so big and powerful, so much flesh, and you flaunt it so much, I felt that getting too close might give the wrong impression. Not just to others, but to you, too."

“I never cared that you're not attracted to me," Jezsa replied. “I just thought we were friends."

“We are friends. That's why I'm here," Atrina said earnestly. “I care about you, Jezsa. Even though I don't understand you, why you are the way you are, why you want to be like this, I enjoy spending time with you and working with you. You have such a way with people, such a confidence that I don't think I'll ever have…" she trailed off.

“You could if you wanted," Jezsa said. “You're so smart, so pretty. Everyone thinks so."

Atrina offered a half-smile. “I'm sorry if I made you feel alone, Jezsa. You've made a career out of blurring lines and boundaries, I feared what might happen if I didn't set ours firmly. But as long as we understand each other, I want you to know that I'm not afraid of you. To see you, to hug you. I think you are a good man, deep down. And a good father."

Again tears welled up in Jezsa's eyes. He couldn't help but lunge forward, sweeping Atrina up in a big, tight, musclebound embrace, squishing her face between the cleft of his hairy pecs. “Oh, you don't know what those words mean to me, what a relief it is to hear that you aren't mad at me!" he said.

Atrina allowed him to, despite his nudity, although she gingerly managed to rub his arm with affection. “We will find a way to deal with Ruluxia. There are other clients we could proposition; other deals to be made." Extricating herself from his huge embrace, she offered a weak smile and said quietly, “Although, perhaps you should clean yourself up first? You still smell like… various fluids."

“You're right; I'm sorry. Where are my manners? Even if we're friends, you're still a lady. Not very gentlemanly of me," he said with a blush. He stood, heading toward the bath as he said, “I'll try to beg the Springs not to ban me at least. And then I'll buy you a day trip there."

Atrina nodded, smiling. “I'd like that," she replied. “I'll leave you be then. I'll send you a list of new potential clients as soon as I can."

She stood, but before she could leave, Jezsa turned and called to her, “Atrina? Could you see about tickets to a lyotahi ball game or something as well? I think Jandha would like that. He's at an age where he should learn about the aliens and their cultures."

Atrina smiled a little bigger, nodded a little more. “Of course. I can have them sent to your PD by the end of the day."

She left, and as Jezsa stepped into the steaming bath to scrub himself of the previous night's shame, he muttered to himself, “I should send her a nice bottle of wine…"

---

Despite Atrina's words, Jezsa was still feeling bad about all that had happened. He'd gotten a pick-me-up, but the deal had still fallen through, things with Marida hadn't changed, and he still had caused an embarrassing incident at the Saetral Springs.

At least, after a great deal of apologizing, begging, and a generous payment to the owner, they agreed to unban him on the condition that he not use his biomorphic powers on the premises. So, it was later that day that he wound up back in the pool for another lunch hour. Again, he soaked in the steaming water and enjoyed a good glass of wine, not to negotiate, but just to relax and pamper himself. He insisted that he needed it.

No sooner had he removed his towel did he begin to regret it, though. He could feel the eyes on him, judging him, whispering about him. He could feel the tentative touches of the attendants when he got his massage, the implicit disgust at his bulging muscles and unshorn body hair. Even simply looking around at the lithe, smooth, sculpted bodies of the other men all carried the same message: that he didn't belong here.

Jezsa began to wonder why he'd gone to such trouble to return in the first place. Why he even bothered to work for the aematal government at all. Certainly he was unwanted, little more than a spectacle. He could even hear Marida's voice - what sort of example was he setting for his son?

“Oh, man! This is nice!" he heard a booming voice - far too loud to be a regular here - break the form of his thoughts and the peace of the pools.

He turned his head over his shoulder to see a group of solarian men, three of them. They were a bit taller than the average aematal, a bit thicker, but certainly more natural and unkempt, in their own cultural tradition. One man was rather short, with deep, dark skin and a bald head. Another was tall and blond, looking lean enough to blend with the aematals if not for the thick beard along his jaw. But the last man was tanned, dark-haired with wavy locks pulled back in a long ponytail, fuzzy body hair curling over his muscular form, built and shaped in a way that said he wanted to be looked at. He was the one who had spoken.

The other aematals in the pools turned to look as well, but no one was going to approach the foreigners or say anything to them, even if they committed a faux pas or two.

“Look, you can eat right in the pool," the dark one said.

“I'm definitely gonna get a massage. Looks like it's okay," the blond one noted.

“Oh yeah," the hunky one said. “At a place like this? They let you do whatever you want." As if to demonstrate, he simply removed his towel. The understood norm among aematals was that you weren't supposed to remove your towel at least until you reached the water, if at all, but clearly these Solarian tourists didn't understand that. A lot of the others scoffed and turned away in secondhand embarrassment or disdain, but Jezsa couldn't take his eyes off the tan man. He was very well-endowed, his manhood swinging between his thighs impressively as he walked.

Jezsa turned away, not wanting to stare too much. But he was surprised when he heard that man's voice directly behind him. “Don't mind us if we join you, partner."

Jezsa turned again to see the Solarians already clambering into the pool, their towels discarded, but none of them were nearly as impressive as the swarthy, hairy man. Given his muscular, immaculate form, Jezsa had to speculate that there was some artificial enhancement done. The blond one commented as he slid into the water, “God, you're a big fucker, aren't you?" It wasn't an insult; his voice was full of awe as he grinned.

“Good to see someone who isn't some kind of featherweight," the black one agreed, looking at him admiringly, although not quite in that way.

The hunky man entered last, right next to Jezsa while the other two took up positions across from him. “You'll have to forgive us, you know how rude we solarians are," he said with a winning smile, his teeth bright. “Some old school buddies of mine, we're on a cross-galactic vacation before he gets hitched next month. Early bachelor party," he said, nodding toward the black one who nodded back. “The proud groom is Quan, that's Vicard, and I'm Danza," he introduced each with their face names.

Jezsa offered a handshake to each, knowing how solarians liked to greet each other. “Jezsa. A pleasure to meet all of you."

Danza had no shame about spreading himself out, looking Jezsa up and down, who was a head and shoulders taller than him. “You don't see a bird as big as you every day, Jezsa. What do you do for work?" he asked.

While most aematals preferred to open conversations by making talk about appearances, routines, and recent activities rather than delve into anything relating to finances, Jezsa understood that solarians tended to feel that you could tell a lot about a person by their career, given how much time they spent on their own work. “I'm a diplomat for the aematal government, actually. I tend travel all over the galaxy for my work, but I've actually spent quite a bit of time on Terra. Lovely planet. You have so many tropical islands compared to others."

Danza grinned broadly. “You don't say? Well, you've got good taste, my friend!" He patted Jezsa warmly on the shoulder and said, “Not another dot in the universe like it, is there?"

Jezsa nodded in agreement. “I'm quite fond of your cuisine, actually. You have this staple grain - rice, I believe? - you make such a unique wine from it."

“Ah, sake? Can't say I'm an expert, but I wouldn't have taken you for a kimonos and cherry blossoms type," Danza said.

Quan and Vicard seemed to sense that the two men were becoming swept up in their conversation and proceeded to talk amongst themselves about the menu and services offered at the spa while Jezsa sipped his wine, turning his body toward Danza. “Well, I know I might look more like a lyotahi, but I'm still an aematal at heart," he replied with a smirk.

Danza barked a laugh. “Hah! Could have fooled me. Although I guess you probably have an easier time with us aliens looking like that, huh? Looking a bit more rugged, a bit harder to push around when you're visiting other colonies?" he asked. Then, sipping his own drink, Danza nodded down between Jezsa's legs and added, “Imagine you scare the shit out of most men you shake hands with with a cock like that. Don't know how you'd ever stuff that into anything."

Jezsa smiled. “Carefully," he replied smoothly.

The man waved his hand dismissively, setting down his glass on the floating tray. “Sorry, occupational hazard," he explained. “I'm doctor, you see. My work is in cosmetic procedures, from the voluntary stuff to the rebuilding after traumatic injury. You tend to notice how people are built."

Quan chimed into the conversation again. “'Doctor,' he says. He's a surgeon who does dick enhancements," he added with a laugh.

Danza gave him a wry scowl, pointing a hairy hand at him and said, “Hey, I graduated medical school like everybody else! Put some respect on my name!" He turned back to Jezsa, feeling he should explain. “I do specialize in male enhancement, but it's more than that. I've pioneered several treatments, many non-surgical. Of course, you can see the results yourself," he said, spreading his legs, nodding down to his own huge endowment. “I've been working on this hog for years, non-surgically. Too big for solarians by now, but damn if I don't turn heads when I walk into a room!" he barked a laugh.

“I thought that was unusually large for a solarian," Jezsa commented. “Although, still - color me impressed."

Danza grinned big, sly, definitely liking Jezsa's flattery. “Thanks. I didn't think any of you birds would appreciate a hung guy at a place like this." He leaned closer to Jezsa, cocking an eyebrow with his smirk. “You like big dicks, Jezsa?"

Jezsa narrowed his own gaze, giving back his sultry expression. “I like big everything," he replied. “Big dicks, big tits… big egos," he said, his voice purring.

“Yeah?" Danza breathed back. “Funny thing. I always liked having mine stroked."

Jezsa was more than happy to reply, “Well, if it helps, you're by far the most hung solarian I've ever met." He cocked his head and added, “What about you? Is that huge thing just to show off in board rooms to your own kind?"

“That's at least half of it," Danza replied, still smirking as he nodded. “We all like to pretend we're more evolved, but we still have instincts, hierarchies. Boys will always be boys," he said crudely. “But it's a few other things. Always wanted to fuck an alien," he admitted openly, something that Jezsa didn't expect even from him. “Before I ever left Terra, I wanted to make sure I was equipped enough. Those lytoahi, the urbosians - gotta make sure I could measure up. But…" for once, Danza faltered.

“I'm listening," Jezsa encouraged softly, leaning toward him, hanging over him.

Danza just shrugged. “I like the way it looks," he said, looking down at his own knee-length manhood. “I didn't think a bird would get it, but looking at you, I guess you would."

Jezsa found the words easily. “It's powerful," he said. “Masculine. Natural. Your most intimate part of yourself, reflecting your truest sense of self, molded to reveal that to the world without shame or hesitation."

Danza found himself nodding. “Not how I would have put it, but… Yeah, you're right. I don't want to be ordinary. I don't want to be some shy dweeb in a labcoat. Before anything, I was born a man, and dammit, I want people to notice. I want to walk into a room and own it. It doesn't make sense, but having a big fucking dick? It's all I need."

“It makes perfect sense," Jezsa said. “I'm much the same. We don't want to hide who we are. We don't want to impinge upon ourselves for the sake of others. There's manners, but it's a fine line between the social contract and repression. For me? I've always adored… well, I guess I'd call it beauty."

“Beauty, eh?" Danza scoffed. He sipped his drink, eyeing up Jezsa decidedly. “I see what you mean. You look like a beast, but you don't talk like one, move like one." A beat and a little shake of his head. “Never seen anything like you, that's for damn sure."

“I've seen your type, but not quite like you," Jezsa replied. “I half expected you to tell me you were a pornstar or something. Medicine is certainly an interesting field to find a man of your tastes in."

Danza nodded, understanding Jezsa's point. Another sip, and he continued, “It suits me. I know what it's like to want to work a certain way. I don't pretend to be a good guy, but if I can get paid so other people can have their own big dicks? Win-win," he said. “And it's not just penis enhancement, of course. I do it all; size enhancements are pretty popular, but organ cloning happens all the time too for gender reassignment. Non-resonant, even, it's all gene therapy and editing, old-school stuff with some modern advancements." Again, he nodded down to Jezsa, gesturing at his manhood, “How about you? Biomorph?" he asked.

“Yes and no," Jezsa replied smoothly. “I'm resonant, like most of my kind, but if you'd believe it, what you see is almost all natural. I suppose some of my size is residual from biomorhpic enhancements, but otherwise this?" he said, gripping the base of his cock, still half again as big and twice as thick as Danza's, hefting it out of the water. “All me."

Danza whistled. “How'd you win that dice roll?"

“Genetic condition, apparently. I was diagnosed shortly after puberty. The rest is just a very intense exercise routine," he said, flexing his arm to show off the massive bulge of his bicep.

Again, Danza beamed, his eyes gleaming, impressed. “I should study you," he said. Then he laughed suddenly and said, “Hell, I could probably make another fortune!"

“At least wait until you've spent the first one. We're still on vacation!" Vicard said, turning his head toward Danza.

Danza nodded, downing the rest of his glass as he explained. “I recently patented and sold my best-selling enhancement therapy. I called it the 'five-day footlong' treatment. Supposed to give you about thirty centimeters in five days," he said, raising his hands to show the approximate measurement. “I was actually able to sell it outside of Sol, to the ekidan, the lyotahi - I got to triple-dip. I was a millionaire before, but, well… You can imagine how much that tech sold for," he said, clearly bragging.

Jezsa's eyes flashed. As crude as it was, a treatment like that would be all the rage across many areas of the galaxy. Even the priggish aematals would probably pay a fortune for access, just to learn more about non-surgical, non-resonant ways of molding the body. The applications were vast, and that meant the price tag must have been steep, to say the least. “I see. So, a lavish intergalactic vacation for you and your friends is just the start of your victory lap?"

Danza nodded. “You've got that right. After this… shit, I don't know," he laughed. He stretched back, folding his arms behind his head, showing his own beefy muscles and hairy body as he looked out ahead of him. “Got more money than I ever thought I'd ever have. Too much to spend on myself, that's for sure. Probably have to invest. Get a medical school named after me, or a hospital or two, or some shit like that. Maybe buy some other businesses. Shuttle company. Porn studio," he said, wearing an openly sleazy grin.

Jezsa took a careful sip of his own glass, studying him, letting the beat hang in the air. His brain calculated every move in a flash. “It's funny you should mention investment," he said. “I think I have an opportunity you might be interested in."

Danza turned his head. “Oh yeah?" he asked.

---

Jezsa's room wasn't currently fit to receive company, but buying a room at a nearby resort for him and Danza to speak at greater length alone wasn't difficult. It was still high on the upper levels of the Hanging Gardens, views of terraces accented by curtains of flowering vines along with the classical stonework of the construction.

The two had made their way in their garb, but Jezsa was already sliding the fabric of his robe off his shoulder as they entered. “...I know you're a loyal Solarian, but I promise you won't get a better offer of returns from your own kind than what I can give you," he said.

Danza walked through, taking a look around the room, eyeing accouterments, food and drink, but turning his gaze back toward Jezsa. “It's a bit of a risk, isn't it? Buying a business - I have some control over that if it starts to go tits-up. I can fire people, change course, sell it off. But this Ruluxia system… there could just be nothing there. Money in a hole."

“Oh, there's something there. That's why everyone's so interested in the first place. That's no question," Jezsa answered. “But I'll admit, the benefits aren't quite as interesting as traditional investments. Mostly monetary. But… I can assure you we can work very closely together to keep an eye on your investment," he said. His outer robe fell to the floor, leaving only his loin wrapping, woefully inadequate, bits of cock and scrotum, hair and flesh sticking out all over from the sides.

Danza smirked. His hands started to undo the buttons of his own shirt, the top few already undone. “That's a good start," he said. “Eighteen percent and your ass on call? Keep talking."

Jezsa turned around, his hips swaying as he strode toward Danza, flaunting his big body as he started to untie the sash holding the wrap up. “What more do you want me to keep saying?" he asked in a sultry tone.

Danza grinned that big, sleazy grin again. He shed his jacket and started to walk Jezsa back toward the grand bedroom. “Let me study you," he said. “Genetic samples - sperm and blood. I want to see if I can get anything out of this condition of yours. I assume you birds haven't studied it very thoroughly?"

“It's not exactly common," Jezsa replied, striding back smoothly, his garments coming off slowly as he allowed himself to be walked back. “Is that all?" He punctuated his statement by shedding his undergarments, naked before Danza, sitting back on the bed, sprawling out like a pinup for the other man's eyes.

“No," Danza admitted. When his belt came unclasped, he dropped his own trousers, his massive cock springing out, already half-hard, throbbing with desire. “I want to make you bigger," he breathed.

Jezsa paused, a gleam passing through his eyes. “You want to make me a patient? I think most would say my cock's already too big."

“Not even close," Danza growled, his lust hardly checked. “I'm betting with your condition, you'll take to my treatment better than any normal man. You could be the most hung man I've ever worked on. Your cock would be a real fucking monster," he breathed, his own erection stiffening, the word coming out hot and dangerous.

It sent a shiver up Jezsa's spine. “I'll come in for a consulting appointment," he agreed with a coy smile. He sat up on the bed, reaching up to place a hand on Danza's own hairy, beefy chest. “If you impress me," he added coquettishly.

Danza grinned. “You drive a hard bargain," he said. His hand slid to the back of Jezsa's head, and Jezsa didn't need to be told what to do next. He closed his eyes, opened his lips, and bowed his head, taking the head of Danza's huge dick into his mouth.

Jezsa's blowjob was thorough, not wasting his time taking things slow with the heat already built between them. The springs were the foreplay; they were more than ready to jump into it. Even with Danza's immense size, it was nothing Jezsa couldn't take before. He'd been spitroasted between urbosians before; an enhanced Solarian would be a pleasant stretch of his throat in comparison. With each bob of his head, he took a few more inches of Danza, taking his time to twist and suckle, to pleasure all of him. But soon, he was at the base, his nose buried into Danza's untrimmed bush while his other hand fondled his big, hairy nuts. The smell of his natural musk was unlike anything Jezsa could find on the Hanging Gardens; raw, masculine, deliciously erotic.

“Ohh, fuck, that's it…" Danza groaned. His grip guided Jezsa down firmly, but not too roughly. His dominance came easily, assumed, and Jezsa was more than happy to submit. Likewise, Danza was more than happy to praise him for it. “You aliens always look so much better sucking my cock."

Jezsa didn't mind the fetishizing tone at all; he'd made himself an object on purpose, and in a way, Danza was doing the same. Solarians always had a reputation for being aggressive, superior, fetishizing; that slight edge was exactly what Jezsa wanted from him. He released the base of Danza's cock to tweak his own nipples, moaning as he throated the slab of meat with relish. The two men were on exactly the same page.

But the oral sex was just the warm up, just to make sure Danza was fully hard for the main event. And Danza was plenty eager to push things further. “Bend over for me," he commanded, releasing Jezsa's skull.

Jezsa looked up at him, at that sleazy grin and those bright teeth. He'd let his hair down at some point, the dark mane wild, a luxurious wave of soft, shining locks that perfectly complemented his hard muscles and hairy, natural body. He pulled off Danza's cock with a slurp before shifting back onto the mattress, bending himself over, arching his back gracefully to present his big ass toward the Solarian.

But Danza didn't just grab him and dive in. “Jezsa… You said you were a biomorpher?" he asked in a half-tone, resting his warm palm on Jezsa's hip.

Jezsa chuckled. “I can't make your cock bigger than mine, I'm afraid," he replied.

“No, that's not it," Danza said. “I want you to be bigger. I want you to make yourself as big as possible." Danza didn't have any words for explanation, couldn't begin to describe why or how the thought turned him on so much, why his body burned with this specific desire. But to Jezsa, he didn't have to. “Can you do that for me?"

Jezsa smiled, his skin tingling already. He tweaked his nipple again, a soft moan issuing from his lips. “I'd love to," he answered.

Taking a moment to focus himself, Jezsa allowed his power to flow through his body, now completely uninhibited. Here, there were no spa attendants or elite aematal onlookers here to judge him. On this bed, his partner didn't want him to be a raging beast. He was free to truly unleash himself.

His muscles began to swell almost immediately. His form ballooned outward as he spread his wings and refocused his stance, giving himself as much room as possible. From Danza's perspective, he mostly saw Jezsa's form grow overall, especially the muscles of his back and along the primary ridge of his wings, but his ass and thighs as well. His butt became a canyon of supple muscle above two trunk-like legs, his arms bulging like pistons beneath his huge shoulders. Even his cock and balls plumped up, expanding, twitching as they reached down toward the mattress with grotesque size, his shaft drooling thick globs of precum onto the sheets and his testicles heaving like laden cannonballs stretching down with payload.

Danza couldn't simply stare much longer. He mounted the bed, but Jezsa was at such a size that it was easier to stand and squat slightly to angle his cock toward the aematal's backdoor than it was to take to his knees in the more traditional position. After reaching quickly for the lube on the bedside table, he applied a generous stripe down the top of his shaft.

“Spirits…" Jezsa moaned, his body active with the energy pumping through every muscle fiber and cell.

“Fuck… You're huge," Danza groaned back. He gripped Jezsa's hips, having to spread his arms slightly to get a good hold.

“Oh, just you wait," Jezsa replied back breathily, smirking.

Danza plunged forward, but with Jezsa's immense size, taking even his endowment was hardly an issue. Still, Jezsa could feel it sliding in, stretching him out. It provided the perfect opportunity.

When Danza hilted inside of him, his nuts slapping against his taint and his hips clapping against Jezsa's rump, Jezsa's body flexed instinctively. And Jezsa rode it, flexing everything he had intentionally.

“Nnng…!" Jezsa grunted. He squeezed his hands into his fists and his arms bulged outward, biceps and triceps like peaks in a mountain range that burst from his limbs. His legs expanded similarly, squeezing his hanging manhood between him, the bed groaning beneath their weight. His pectorals clenched with his intake of breath, nipples thicker than the platters at the spa, too big for Danza to grip with his hands, his chest reaching down, so full with strength that the fleshy nubs rubbed against the bed's fabric below. His back broadened, the bulges firm and mighty between his wings, and even his cock expanded even further, growing harder with his euphoric efforts, a truly monstrous member that couldn't even swing, it could only stir with his motions, forced to lodge itself between his swollen mounds of hairy chest meat, oozing precum onto himself as it threatened to nudge his own chin with its throbs.

Danza couldn't stop himself from thrusting. But at this point, fucking Jezsa was just a formality. The anal sex was not the driving force getting both of them off; it was Jezsa's size, the awe of it, the freedom of it and the domination of it.

“Holy shit…!" Danza cursed under his breath, the shock in his voice absolutely genuine. But his hands gripped the meat of Jezsa's body even tighter, finding only taut muscle upon more muscle wherever he grabbed, like Jezsa's power might explode out of his skin with the combination of his flexing and biomorphic resonance. “God, take it! Take it for me, Jezsa!" he bellowed.

Jezsa was nothing short of euphoric. Holding the massive flex, the full-body clench was easy, orgasmic in itself, even. The tension, the tightness was so perfect. Feeling the limits of the bed being reached beneath him, how small his partner was behind him, even with his massively enhanced dick, in many ways, he truly felt like a beastial creature more than a man.

But Danza lusted for him. His form inspired a raw, urgent, animal desire in Danza that couldn't be performed, it could only be experienced as imminently real, instinctive. Danza had no choice but to fuck him as hard as he could; what other word could be used to describe Jezsa's form, capable of moving a man to such innate desire, than beauty? True, virile, erotic beauty.

Jezsa felt it with every slam of Danza's rock-hard dick into him, every swat of his ass, every bellowing moan and dirty-talking quip or insult. And Jezsa languished in it, writhed in it, moaned and stretched, flexed and pumped, every last part of him fully stimulated inside and out.

“Yes! Oh, spirits! Take me! Take all of me!" Jezsa wailed.

Danza responded with equal vigor. “Yeah! God, Jezsa, you're so fucking big!" he growled. As he rutted into him, Danza didn't just look and thrust. His hands roamed over every inch of Jezsa's body, groping, squeezing, feeling his powerful muscles, stroking his balls and cock, trailing through the hair and sweat. The solarian's touch wasn't mere dominance, a cowing of one powerful being beneath a superior man; it was of admiration. Danza wanted to consume Jezsa, to take in every part of him.

And Jezsa thrived under that gaze. He threw his ass back into Danza's fucking, flexed his muscles, wanting to make himself bigger for his partner, to increase both of their pleasure with his size. He wanted to give as much of himself as he could to Danza, and the other man was more than happy to take. Every thrust, every flex, every surge of power through him was ecstatic, rapturously, truly erotic in every sense.

“Danza! More! I'm going to cum!" Jezsa cried out, his muscles bulging bigger, threatening to devour his upper body as he flexed some more.

“Yeah, cum for me, Jezsa! Fuck, I'm getting close, too…!" Danza's own gasp was a strangled noise as he tossed his head back, throwing himself into Jezsa's body. “I want to see it! I want to see you cum, Jezsa! Don't hold back!"

Jezsa wailed back in turn. “Don't you hold back! Give it all to me! Take me!"

The climax between the two was nothing short of an eruption, a seismic event of bellowing voices, sweaty bodies pumping and grinding, and pure rapture. The cum that burst from Jezsa's balls was a tide that flooded the bed, squishing beneath their feet and flooding the floor. Likewise, Danza's own load filled the insides of Jezsa's wonderfully massive body, hot, deep, and intimate in their wholly mutual bliss. Jezsa hadn't cum hands-free like that in quite some time, but he hadn't been utterly worshiped with another man's body in the same way in quite some time either. And he had never been asked to bring his most monstrous form to bear and been lusted after for it. But as he reeled in orgasm beneath Danza's gaze, he knew that Danza didn't look at him like a monster. He looked at him like the hottest porn he'd ever seen, a body he wanted to mold and work with his own hands, a masterpiece of virility and muscle that he couldn't contain, he could only fuck. Danza's own powerful orgasm wasn't just a peak, it was an offering, a tribute that Jezsa's body was all too happy to accept with messy, sweaty, jerking, cumming delight.

Danza pulled out of him, copious jism leaking out of Jezsa's ass, but the two were far beyond caring. Jezsa collapsed forward, and Danza haphazardly on top of him after. His face landed between Jezsa's wings; not the most romantic position, certainly not a cuddle, but Jezsa felt utterly immobilized by how swollen and spent his body was at the same time, and his heaving size gave little room for Danza to sprawl out on the bed next to him.

“God above," Danza panted, breathless. His hands passively stroked up Jezsa's back, up his wings, curiously toying with his feathers. “You sure know how to close a deal."

Jezsa's lips curled in the slightest way. “I know."