Hidden Desires
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***This story is a collaboration between me and The_Secret_Cave***
Description: A young drake employs questionable means to resist the inevitability of his lust.
If you are a new reader, make sure to read the story that inspired the creation of this story , otherwise it won't make much sense: https://www.sofurry.com/view/942707
Hidden Desires
Pinebosom valley had changed during the months Istaryl and his mate Karyl spent hunting down the cobalt rhino without any success. Naked, his head and shoulders slumped in disgrace for returning home without the promised victory, the drake took his first uncertain step upon the dusty road that led into Pinebosom valley. Its winding shape shielded the Stillpine village nestled at the bottom of the valley, putting a veil of firs and spruces and pines between Istaryl and his home.
Home. A thought that had warmed him in the past now made Istaryl's stomach clench from the wave of apprehension that hit him, his tail rocking from side to side, his short and feeble steps reflecting his uncertainty to return home a mere scout. That was how everyone would see him; how everyone would treat him from now on.
As a lowly, naked scout forbidden to wear even a strap of cloth tied around his arm. Within Stillpine boundaries, clothes did more than reflect one's status. They empowered the wearer, gave him a sense of purpose, demanded respect from those too young, too shy, or too cowardly to take up quests that would bestow such rare rewards upon them. Stillpine fed everybody, from hatchling to elder, but they only donned their precious few clothes upon those who helped the tribe grow through astonishing feats.
Although he saw no signs of the village through the verdant curtain sprawling ahead, Istaryl smelled the crisp scent of freshly cut wood drifting upon the wind. He heard the muffled sounds of the jagged blades, hewing away at the trees, making room for other burrows while using the fallen trees to build them. The Stillpine tribe prided itself with its efficacy, with their knack to put every scrap, twig, bone, and leaf to purpose.
If only Istaryl inherited this most useful and common of traits...
He only had but notice the fleeting gaze of a wandering drake to remember that he had, indeed, failed his task, that he returned home naked like a hatchling, possessing the courage and skill of one while being ten times older. Ahead, the road straightened, the woods thinning to reveal the Stillpine village in all of its glory.
On either side of Istaryl, villagers chopped, portioned, and hauled away logs, bundles of branches, or whole trees, the carts filling all of the available pathways that the village elder built for this very purpose. Dirt gave way to cobbles under Istaryl's feet. Actual stone! For a moment, the drake paused, curling his toes to drag his claws along it, to stomp it, make sure it was real.
"The Elder will use the roads as an official gesture of unification between the Stillpine and Duskhollow," a wandering hunter said, scratching the neck of his emerald tiger companion. "The timing couldn't be better for you, scout. It's a second opportunity at climbing through the ranks. Make sure to sign up. They're looking for traders, scouts, trappers, ambassadors."
Istaryl nodded, even though the drake was already several steps behind him by now. Other villagers, his kin, didn't even bother addressing him. One quick glimpse of his bare form gave them the answers they were looking for, and that was enough knowledge for them.
Rather than dwell on it, Istaryl breathed in the pleasant scent of home and looked around. So many burrows! Other drakes from distant tribes had different names for them, but to the Stillpine, a burrow always meant that dome-shaped dwelling, built of several layers of twigs and branches, in which every drake had crawled in at some point in their lives. Their size varied according to the available resources, which made for an impressive array of burrows, some of them so small Istaryl wondered if drakes actually lived in them.
Why did so many initiates choose the Stillpine as their new home? More importantly, where did they come from? The thought of foreign drakes seeking to rise within the ranks of the Stillpine used to excite Istaryl. Foreigners had delightful stories to share, exotic magic, wondrous abilities that helped shape the village into what it was today. Right now, however, the red drake shuddered at the sight of the burrows, at their vast numbers, at the picture of the leather clad drakes, big and imposing.
I won't even be a scout to them. They have more than enough scouts, he thought, mincing his brain, searching for the possibility to request a different job, one that better reflected his skillset.
The constant chopping sounds broke his concentration, as did the various drakes milling around, animal companions walking at their sides. A wolf poked his wet, cold nose at Istaryl's slit, huffing and whimpering, making his owner grin and bow his head in apology. Istaryl would have eased the drake's concerns if his body didn't freeze against his will. After what Karyl had put him through, he believed shyness deserted him, but his heart thundered just as hard, and his cheeks still turned a deeper shade of crimson.
To distract himself, Istaryl looked ahead, towards the dwellings built of logs set in a cylindrical shape, a webbing of twigs providing the roof, the leaves making for great thatch. Not everybody enjoyed the limited space these dwellings offered. As such, each dwelling past the ones built of raw logs grew in size and complexity, ending with the Grand Lodge, house of the village elder, a two story house built of stone at the base and wood towards the top. Some things did change within Stillpine, but they still hadn't figured out a way to build a stone roof.
Exhausted, irritated, and feeling more than a little cowardly in the wake of his discoveries, Istaryl made for the inn, the second largest building in the village. Laughter and good will always poured past its broad windows, along with several savory aromas that made Istaryl's stomach grumble.
Inside, everything remained the way Istaryl remembered it. Tallow candles illuminated the square shaped, pinewood tables, along with the faces of the dragons huddled around them, slurping their ale, eating their food, or playing dice games. Further in the back was a group, all growls and laughter, some of their tails curled around their stools to keep them from rocking too hard.
Istaryl licked his snout in attempt to wash away his apprehension, the numerous strangers making his senses tingle.
One of them, however, was always, and forever would be, a friendly face. Undrethyl, an albino drake he knew better than he liked to, handed mugs, tankards and bowls of food to the few apprentices he had taken in his care, pointing them towards the right tables.
"Still a pragmatic at heart. Your abilities to entertain your patrons are to be commended," Istaryl said to him, eying the dark blue-green drake slumped over the edge of the counter, jaw rested atop his crossed arms, snoring audibly.
"I'm not here to entertain them. I'm here to feed them. If they seek amusement, they better share stories among themselves." He grabbed a piece of cloth to wipe his counter, his gaze lingering on Istaryl. "You look like you have a story to tell as well."
"Not the sort that needs to be shared."
"Istaryl, my only guest is already asleep, and I'm sorting out the inventory instead of pursuing a mate. I'm the incarnation of boredom," the innkeep replied with his deep, jovial voice, perking his orange tipped crest a tad as his eyes drifted towards Istaryl's sex. "So, what happened to your loin coverings? Left them dangling up a tree by the river? Forest predators undressed you in your sleep? Or perhaps you've met one of them mates who bite your coverings to shreds before feasting on your slit."
A hum of delight rumbled within his throat, marking this as the most awkward moment Istaryl had ever gone through. The drake's ears flattened along his skull, one of his fingers scratching idly at the back of his neck. Thoughts of the intimacy he had shared with Karyl flooded his mind, his temples beginning to pound under the pressure of the lies he strove to conceive.
"Nothing. That is what happened. I returned, Undrethyl, because I have done absolutely nothing while away," Istaryl said to the tilted head of the innkeeper.
"There is always something to be done, Istaryl. If memory serves, Karyl accompanied you in your quest." He began drumming his claws on the counter, holding Istaryl's gaze, intent on getting to the bottom of this.
Istaryl shrugged his shoulders. "That makes two scouts with no magic, no capabilities, and absolutely no idea on how to pick ourselves back up. My heart soars with joy to see you again, Undrethyl, but don't drag Karyl into this. I failed him, just as I have failed myself."
"Pah," Undrethyl scoffed in derision, waving a hand dismissively. "You talk as if you're a unique leaf drifting in the wind without aim or goal. I'm an innkeeper, Istaryl. I see bare drakes like you every passing day. They come in sour, and they leave beaming. Know why?"
Istaryl perked his ears. "Because of your perverted tales?"
"No, my impressionable youngling. Drinks first, and then perverted tales. It's the order of things that matters in life, rrrr?"
Istaryl shook his head at the innkeep's suggestive look, afraid of his silver tongue. "I'm here for neither. Just passing through on my way to Quest Assignment. Hunter I met earlier told me of several opportunities that I may be interested in."
"Ahha," Undrethyl said with a slow, elaborate nod. "Which means you're still inexperienced and available in every way that I'm not."
Istaryl's throat clenched. His inside lurched, and his toes curled, scratching at the wooden floorboards.
"Y--yes, I'm...free to pursue certain activities," he responded with soft, shaky words, unable--unwilling--to further taint Karyl's name by adding salt to the wound. If it wasn't for him, his mate would have given everything to see the quest completed, but nooo! Istaryl, having been introduced to the boundless realm of pleasure, had to keep his mind off it. He had to tempt him, mellow his fire down, waste his energy on frolic and lovemaking rather than channel it towards the hunt. This guilt had manifested itself on their way back to Stillpine valley, and now, it forced him to lie to a good friend in order to preserve what little decency he had left.
A fire flared to life within Undrethyl's vermilion eyes. He signaled a reluctant Istaryl forward, settled him on a stool, slid a mug of forest cider his way, and then leaned over the counter to whisper, "Speaking of pursuits, I've a gift for you, ripe for the taking."
Why the secrecy? Istaryl's gaze switched to the mug of cider, then back to Undrethyl. "Thank you. I'll find a way to repay you. I--"
"Not the drink, silly. Him." His eyes swerved to the side, towards the sleeping drake clad in a tanned leather vest with a white, furred neckline, its thickness and length suggesting albino direwolf, one of the several species of predators that provided the objective for the trial Istaryl and his mate had failed.
Istaryl cupped the mug in his palms, looked around, pretending to have missed Undrethyl's point. "Scarce inventory. Many customers these days, I take it? I saw the new burrows erected at the fringes of the village. What did they bring over from their travels?"
Undrethyl opened his mouth to say something, but one of the little apprentices, a gleeful brown and white female, dashed out of the kitchen, placing a bowl of steaming noodle surprise right in front of Istaryl.
"Here! Three more coming!" She said with a cute, squeaky voice.
"Make that four. This goes to my friend over here." He pushed the bowl towards Istaryl, summoning a wooden spoon from under the counter and sliding it into the bowl. "Eat. Drink your cider. You're always deaf or cowardly on an empty stomach. We'll talk in a couple of minutes."
That said, Undrethyl poured several drinks into various tankards, placed them on a stone tray, donned a charming smile and went to visit the cheerful, foreign drakes.
Left with nothing better to do aside from tapping his foot frantically, Istaryl tucked into the meal, chewing on the gummy flesh of whatever Undrethyl had put into the food. It wouldn't have been much of a surprise if the whole village knew the ingredients, and for some reason, its taste varied. Right now, it had a spicy tang to it, the bits of meat succulent, the noodles plump and soft. Istaryl wolfed his meal down, sliding a glance or two towards the sleeping drake, his heart skipping a beat every time he did. Three darker stripes adorned his shoulders, and a pair of white spots stood above his eyes, giving him quite the cute appearance. His belly must have been white as well, for the same color coated the underside of his flaccid tail and lower jaw.
How had such a wee little creature managed to bring down an albino direwolf? His arms were thinner than Istaryl's, his build lithe, his facial features soft, akin to those of a female.
He had aid, Istaryl thought while sipping away at his cider. His group had at least a spellcaster in it, and sleepyhead over there came up with a smart plan to separate the quarry from its pack.
If he had hunted the direwolf with a group, why wasn't he with them, celebrating, just like the drakes in the back did?
"I see you're starting to consider my offer, you rascal." Undrethyl sat beside Istaryl, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, pulling him towards him. "Does his fancy collar unnerve you? It shouldn't. He may be a great warrior or runeweaver out there, but sleeping beauty lost the battle against my drinks big time."
"So...you slipped some sleeping powder into his...?"
Undrethyl held Istaryl's gaze for a short, intense, unsettling moment before chuckling and slapping him on the shoulder, hard enough to make it sting.
"Har! Like I had to. Nah," he shook his head. "He refused to eat, so I gave him to drink. Fancy vest makes him a noteworthy drake in the eyes of our people, so I gave him noteworthy treatment. Alas, my part in his welfare is done, so you're up next."
No, no, no. Not this again! Undrethyl casually got up and slipped behind the counter, pointing to the drake, grumbling to his apprentices before making his displeasure with his sleeping patron more vocal, so that more of the patrons could hear his annoyance with the sole occupant of one of the many stools who happened to only stretch along a slim portion of the counter. Calling Undrethyl's behavior an exaggeration would put it mildly, but the harm had already been done.
His apprentices dispersed like arrows fired from a bow, shooting towards various tables, trying to coax somebody into taking the young drake away. Curses! Why did he have to resort to such desperate measures all the time?
"I'll do it," Istaryl said, forcing power into his voice, half-hoping to awake the drake. Much to his chagrin, he just groaned, licked his snout, and made himself even more comfortable on the counter.
"Ah, bless your kindness. Upstairs, first on the right," Undrethyl whispered to Istaryl before continuing with a louder voice. "Thank you, orange one, for doing me this favor. Next one's on the house."
Istaryl's blood sizzled. He had no idea whether he meant the next drake or the next drink, so he shuffled over to the sleepyhead, grabbed him in his arms, grumbled a bit under his breath, and favored his friend one last glance, noticing that crafty smirk on his face that said, "You owe me big time for this."
Istaryl sneaked Undrethyl a smile on the way towards the stairway which suggested, "Don't you worry. It is my pleasure to help" for the sake of appearances. In truth, it wasn't. He already had a mate, along with a precarious position within his community. The last thing Istaryl needed was Undrethyl's elaborate scheme to get him into bed with a total stranger. Kindness, he called it. Istaryl rolled his eyes at his friend's twisted sense of loyalty on the way towards the stairway, stopping at its base to take in a deep breath and accept the reality of his tricky situation.
Globes of ethereal fire burned within the sconces lined along the wall, casting pale yellow light upon the smoothly carved wood of the railing on the left, and the lacquered wooden wall on the right. They burned without smoke, offered no warmth, the magic keeping them alive molded to fit this one single purpose, of illuminating the inn.
Istaryl sighed, met the face of his sleepy charge, and clambered the first few steps, fanning his toes to increase his purchase upon the fine wood. He had never climbed the stairs carrying a drake--in fact, he hoped Karyl would carry him like this one day. Only, he wouldn't be asleep, nor lie completely limp, without the faintest trace of a blush.
"How in the world can you sleep so soundly?" Istaryl mused out loud, both irritated and surprised at how utterly ignorant this creature was.
Carrying him seemed manageable, at the very least. He had a supple body, light of weight, his shapely limbs and long tail spilling gracefully past the side of Istaryl's left arm. No scales covered his body. Everything, from the tip of that cute snout to the end of his thick tail, was smooth and pleasant to the touch, his hide radiating warmth that seeped into Istaryl's bare body.
The red drake's cheeks flushed, a swarm of thoughts rampaging through his mind. Who was this young, impressionable drake? How did he end up in the inn? How firm was his butt?
Istaryl bit back a gasp. That was quite indecent! He shouldn't think of such things! Shouldn't...
Then again, why shouldn't he? His protégé dozed off in the middle of an inn; he inadvertently placed Istaryl in a very awkward position. The least he could do was help indulge Istaryl's curiosities. Not like he would mind or care about it, given his audible snoring.
Istaryl wet his lips with a quick, apprehensive lick, shifting his right hand over the drake's thigh, inching closer and closer to his butt. Soft, plump muscle glided over his hand on the way there, the foreign drake's skin soft, his thighs enticing. When Istaryl's fingertips prodded at the leathers covering his rump, his throat clenched, the electrical jolt rushing along his spine forcing him to stop in the middle of the stairs.
A pressing thought weighed him down, rooting him on the spot.
Grope him through the leathers, or slink his hand through them and grab the real thing?
Istaryl knew he was doomed when steady rivers of fire began to pulsate within his cheeks. His fingers chose their own path, pushing forward, slipping under the drake's coverings, rolling around the fleshy cheek briefly before cupping it like a prized possession.
"Khh," Istaryl gasped through gritted teeth, closing his eyes. This was happening. This was really happening! He just groped, and now fondled the enticing butt of his charge, unable to keep his hand still. It just...it was so soft, so plump, so delicate, and the foreign drake's nostrils shivered, a light, guttural whimper vibrating its way past his throat.
Oh dear heavens!
Istaryl rushed up the stairs, adrenaline pumping through his veins, his claws pattering audibly on the naked wood. His head was aflame with embarrassment, his mind empty, devoid of precious clues such as the position and number of the drake's room.
As such, Istaryl strolled into the upper corridor, looking left and right with frantic eyes, rushing into the first empty room that had its door open. Once he made it inside, panting and more than a little anxious, Istaryl spotted the hay bed, empty and inviting. He rushed straight towards it.
Once there, he lowered the drake on top of the golden mattress, the fine strands of hay rustling, his protégé moaning in satisfaction. He wasted no time in shifting to the side, an arm under his head to provide proper cushioning, his knees tucked against one another.
"Make yourself comfortable. You're also welcome," Istaryl whispered in mocking reverence for the leather-clad one. He paced through the room to cool down and set his thoughts in order, but the throbbing of his temples wouldn't have it. Loud, bothersome heartbeats still pounded within his chest, and his face still seared due to the fire welled within his cheeks.
He wasn't embarrassed. Nor apprehensive. The stranger's senses soared far, far away. No way he knew what Istaryl had done to him.
I carried him up here. That is what happened. No point in thinking about it, Istaryl thought. He did what he set off to do, hadn't he? Undrethyl had told him to get this drake to his room, put him in his bed. Nothing more, nothing less.
Yet, for some reason, Istaryl's eyes fixated on the drake instead of swerving towards the opened door of the room. Something drew him closer to the foreigner, something that Istaryl couldn't explain. It had to do with the excitement pumping through his veins, the same one he had felt when groping the drake's butt. Or maybe the tingles creeping through his slit influenced his thoughts. They felt like warm, tiny embers nudging at his vulnerable insides, stirring him, coaxing him to grow.
Istaryl slapped his paws over his snout to contain the panicked yelp that he was about to set loose, hurtling towards the opposite corner of the room. Once there, he lowered himself upon the floor, hands held in front of his slit like a curtain meant to hide his perversion.
He breathed in deep, exhaled in a slow, drawn-out fashion, then took another breath, keeping this exercise going. For some reason, this erection was more vicious than others, his thickening meat showing itself almost completely, light throbs traversing its tapered length.
It will go away. There's nobody to see it. Relax. Keep breathing. Don't think of anything.
Istaryl looked around the room, trying his best to push the erection back to a corner of his mind. The cot upon which he settled the drake sat beside a window. Vermilion light spilled through it, caressing the drake's hide, bathing it in warm glow. On the opposite side of Istaryl was a small, rectangular table, a single chair tucked under it. To its side, a washing basin, along with a bundle of water skins that Undrethyl replaced every few days to keep their contents from getting stale.
Basic room, basic necessities. The walls lacked a rack for clothes, along with a few other things Istaryl expected. Then again, this might not have been the drake's room at all. Somebody worthy of a vest deserved more than standard accommodations, and the drake probably arranged that with the innkeep.
"If he's displeased with the room, then he can leave on his own two feet. I'm not carrying him anymore, not for an inch. I'm not a pack horse to be ordered around," Istaryl muttered to himself.
Lust soured into irritation, which ended his erection faster than his little breathing exercise managed to. Undrethyl considered himself smart; he thought he was being helpful and altruistic, always looking out for Istaryl.
The red drake chuckled. "Yeah right. Old guy just wants a laugh, an erotic story, or maybe laugh while somebody recounts a lewd story."
He built this inn. He bought every piece of furniture. He gave young drakes the chance to pick a noble and useful craft, that of quenching the thirst and hunger of others. He had done all this, without asking for anything in return, other than a story meant to titillate his senses every now and then.
Pervert...
A smile appeared on Istaryl's lips. Try as he might to think ill of Undrethyl, he had to admit that his friend had a twisted way of looking after his best interests. The Stillpine tribe cared not for terms such as 'pair' or 'mate.' Every drake had the possibility of showing proof of utmost affection to everybody, unconstrained by fidelity to only one very special drake. Although a fair number of drakes preferred the intimacy of sharing themselves with their chosen one, experimenting with others was always a valid option. Male or female, it didn't matter to the Stillpine, so long as both parts consented.
Strange rule for a strange community. To Istaryl, the term 'mate' carried a deep significance. Karyl had been his best friend since ever, and Karyl was also the one to introduce Istaryl into the realm of bodily pleasure. So far, Istaryl never consider sharing himself with another drake; after all, his mate managed to satisfy every single one of his needs.
Until now.
The foreigner shifted to the right, laying down on his side, releasing a frail groan. His lips twitched, his ears shook, his toes clenched. Yet, one movement in particular drew Istaryl's attention. The drake's loin coverings--they began rising!
Istaryl's breath caught in his throat. His eyes widened to the size of raspberries as he watched the drake's tapered shaft press against the flap of leather covering his groin, poking at it, giving it the appearance of a perverse flagpole. His thighs rocked against one another, the soft friction encouraging his member to grow to proportions the strap of brown leather couldn't contain.
Breathlessly, Istaryl witnessed the stranger's erection work its way past his coverings, forcing the strap of leather to dangle uselessly to the side of his slit. Although his excitement began to wane after a few hearty throbs, Istaryl's jaws remained agape, his pent-up breath slowly coming out.
Once his member diminished enough for his coverings to return to their previous position, Istaryl giggled, his squeaky mirth forcing him to cover his mouth with his paws, lest he woke up his guest.
Too late.
Ice formed within Istaryl's veins as the drake began to shift. He rolled onto his back...
And then swung to the other side, curled in a fetal position, blissfully ignorant to what just happened.
Istaryl's heart skipped a beat. A weary sigh escaped his snout, and every spot on his head seemed to itch due to the nerves flooding his being. That was close! Very close! Perhaps that was Istaryl's cue to leave. Watching over this drake spelled trouble for him, even greater if his guest woke up to one of Istaryl's untimely erections.
It took a couple of moments for Istaryl's frantic heartbeats to settle and for his cheeks to cool off. Instead of clarity, of rational thoughts advising him to leave, a perverse desire to stay nudged at Istaryl's mind. It was a selfish thought, bred of pure satire at the drake's address. Try as he might to fight it back, Istaryl couldn't. He had to know. He had to find out just how much of a sleepyhead this drake was.
Besides, he kind of owes me, Istaryl sought to convince himself. Undrethyl strummed me like an instrument. Why shouldn't I pass it forward to this cute, innocent fellow? If he wakes up, I'll just say I tried my best to make him comfortable. Yes. That's it. I'm just looking out for him."
Sleeping with clothes on never did anybody any good, and the sun had yet to set. Poor drake must have been boiling inside that leather vest, the fluffy collar adding to his discomfort. Slowly, Istaryl tiptoed towards his target, sparing a glance to the half-opened door, perking his ears. Muffled chatter wafted from the floor below. No footsteps on this level, which meant no activity.
Alrighty then...
Istaryl stopped beside the bed, rubbing his chin in thought. In spite of the nobility of his task, occasional shudders still slithered under his skin. His limbs remained taut, his tail restless, just like the second thoughts passing through his mind.
No, that's ridiculous!_Istaryl thought, almost irritated with his indecisiveness. _I'm not doing anything wrong. A good number of drakes walk around naked. Besides, his clothes are still going to be here when he wakes up. It's not as if I am stealing them!
Even so, it still took Istaryl the better part of a minute to make up his mind. There was more to his intentions than altruism, but he chose to swipe that mote of temptation aside in favor of a more practical course of action, such as finding a way to undress the drake without waking him up.
If that was even possible...
"Well, here goes nothing..." Istaryl whispered under his breath. He leaned forward, his shadow flowing over the drake's white and blue-green form. A subtle push, and the stranger rolled onto his stomach with the ease of a barrel.
Now came the difficult part, the riskiest one by a fair shot. Istaryl inhaled a mouthful of stale air, holding that reassuring breath trapped within his chest as he grabbed the drake's arm, curling it slightly to the side, so that he could roll one end of the vest off his body. When he attempted to do the same with the remaining arm, the drake growled.
Istaryl froze, his head threatening to explode, his chest tight with the breath he desperately tried to suppress.
The stranger stretched his limbs, flicked some hay off to the side with a swing of his tail, and assumed his preferred position, on the side.
Only then did Istaryl allow that monstrous sigh out, working the vest free from the drake's body while he still had the nerve to do so. Next came his loin coverings, strapped around his waist with a brown leather cord, fastened in place with a metal clasp. Istaryl undid it with great ease, practically pulling everything off him in one single and elegant maneuver. The drake rolled with the motion, switching onto his back, tongue poking past the side of his mouth as he presented Istaryl with the white of his belly, and more. Much, much more.
Istaryl's jaws parted in a smug grin, unable to help himself from savoring this victorious moment. His golden eyes scanned over the lines outlining the drake's white abdomen, emphasizing his strong physique despite his smaller size. The blue-green male also had his legs sprawled open. Just like a spring blossom, he presented his inner beauty to everyone who wished to see it.
Istaryl was mesmerized. He absorbed the suave curves of the drake's thighs, the smooth surface of his tail, noticed the way his toes curled slightly inwards, white claws grappling a few strands of hay in the process.
And, of course, there was the matter of his slit, completely bare before Istaryl's eyes, a thin line parting the white of his groin, thin yet quite noticeable. A sliver of pink flesh stood out, the color pale compared to the crimson blush tinting Istaryl's cheeks, emphasized by the translucent film of arousal coating the surface of the stranger's gender.
Although he was utterly naked, Istaryl sweltered. The air in the room seemed to turn hot and muggy, causing the red drake's tail to shift back and forth erratically. His first thought was to leave the room, to get a breath of fresh air, to put as much distance between him and that alluring drake as possible.
Besides, he could wake up at any given moment. What would he say, should he notice a pervert clutching his clothes on each hand, staring down upon his bare form? Istary's heart sank at the mere prospect of having this happen to him, this terrible yet blissful scenario.
In the end, the drake yet again interrupted Istaryl's train of thought. He rolled to the side, tongue fleeing back into his mouth, his tail rolling between his legs, curling protectively around his slit.
Drat! Was it because--
The visible shudders rushing through his muscles soothed Istaryl's intense moment of panic, but didn't abolish it. The red drake remained stiff, fingers clenched around the stranger's clothes. He knew what he had to do, but something held him back. The same nagging thought from before returned to him, the one that made him grow erect at a most inappropriate moment. Stunned, his throat dry and his claws scratching at the floorboards due to a mixture of uneasiness and exultation, Istaryl battled doubt. Cover him with his clothes? Or get into the bed with him, share his body heat with him?
Now that the sun had set, its nurturing rays no longer caressed the stranger's form. Istaryl's adrenaline levels dwindles as well, leaving him drained, almost fatigued. In his vulnerable state, he also noticed how cool the room became. A vest and some leather straps wouldn't do much to keep this drake's slumber peaceful. Only a personal, intimate touch would suffice, and since Istaryl remained here to watch over the drake...
The things I do for you... Istaryl thought, dropping the drake's clothes to the side of the cot to free his hands. He leaned forward, easing one hand onto the hay mattress, then the other, lifting a tentative foot off the ground, and keeping it midair for several tension-filled seconds. There would be no coming back after this moment. Whatever happened, Istaryl had to stay and face the consequences.
What consequences? He began to shiver, and I offered to warm him up. He would understand.
Istaryl shrugged, trying to stoke his faltering conviction with the help of his grandiose plan. If mere willpower couldn't do it, then lust alone had to suffice. As he looked down upon the drake's form, so charming and petite, Istaryl's blush returned to his cheeks. Desire clouded his mind, blurring his rational side, urging him forward.
He wanted this. He needed this, and so did his new companion and friend. The poor thing trembled like a leaf in the absence of his clothes, flaring Istaryl's guilt at undressing him in the first place. To rectify his mistake, the red drake clambered into the cot, crawling into a side position, so that the limited space fit them both.
Once his body aligned with the stranger's, Istaryl wrapped an arm around his back, pulling him against him, until their white bellies met and grinded against one another. Comforting warmth pulsated through the drake's hide, soothing Istaryl, unraveling the knots formed within his muscles. To make himself cozy, Istaryl sneaked his head under the blue-green drake's jaws, exhaling warm gusts of air upon his soft neck.
Since one of the drake's thighs remained bare, Istaryl brought his leg on top of it, thinking nothing of it for the time being. Yes, an erotic thought might have sparked this trail of events. And yes, Istaryl might have employed questionable logic to see to the drake's welfare, but past was past. What mattered now was to keep his protégé warm and comfy with the help of a hug. That was it. Just a tight, innocent hug.
Or so Istaryl tried to convince himself. On second thoughts, it might have been better to embrace him from behind, especially when the occasional tremor made the stranger's frame rub against Istaryl, their groin areas touching. And his companion was moist! As in slick, wet, however you'd like to call it!
Istaryl squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think nothing of it. Everybody had a lewd dream every now and then. It wasn't the poor drake's fault.
And besides, his scent was so dull, so soothing, his skin so soft and pleasant to the touch! Istaryl found himself rubbing his snout along the drake's neck, poking at it with the tip of his tongue. His coloring resembled Karyl with uncanny accuracy, so Istaryl imagined himself sharing the bed with his beloved mate, snug against one another. His companion's snoring turned into a gentle purr of fulfillment, eliciting an equally pleasant rumble of satisfaction from Istaryl.
For a moment, it worked. Trapped in the drake's embrace, fond memories flashed through Istaryl's mind, soothing him, lulling him to rest. He forgot that he slept with a stranger, or that their genders practically interlocked.
Until the stranger began grinding his slit against Istaryl.
The red drake's eyes snapped open, his heart hammering at his chest. What--what was happening? Did his protégé finally...?
Nope. His purr retained its intensity, soft, sublime even, although a purplish tint marred his cheeks.
But just because he wasn't aware of it, that didn't mean the friction between their genders didn't happen. The drake's hips rocked ever so softly, spreading his arousal over Istaryl's own sex. The heated moisture sparked tingles of excitement within Istaryl's depths. The intimate touch of flesh rubbing against sensitive flesh tugged at a private part of him, one that, no matter how hard he tried, Istaryl couldn't contain.
Faced with the inevitability of his impending erection, Istaryl began counting the thundering beats of his heart, his eyes wide as blackberries, his throat as tight as his grip around the smaller drake's back. He shouldn't have hugged him so tight, and yet, Istaryl didn't want to let go, for fear that the drake might notice it and wake up. Karyl always noticed the subtlest of things, and this guy's hide certainly matched the nuance of Istaryl's mate, further adding to his apprehension.
He had done it. He had gotten himself trapped between a rock and a hard place--or, to put it more accurately, between a slit and the stranger's arm, each offering him a choice. He could stay and risk having his erection slide into the blue-green drake's slit, or sneak out of his embrace and get out into the corridor of the first floor while sporting the mother of all erections.
Actually, this choice was no choice at all. He had to leave, to sneak out of the inn and put this terribly shameful episode behind him while he still had the chance.
But he couldn't. He froze in place, fettered by the onrush of emotions flooding his senses. Istaryl's cheeks practically sizzled. His blood boiled within his veins, turning his hide a few degrees hotter, enough to make his new friend moan in delight and hug Istaryl tighter, like a prized possession that he simply refused to relinquish. His claws pressed against Istaryl's hide, pricking its leathery surface, the pain barely noticeable over the rampant throbs rushing through his growing shaft.
If escaping the drake's clutch seemed like a silly option before, it now turned into an impossible one, what with this guy holding onto Istaryl for dear life, his ears flat over the back of his head, tongue lapping at Istaryl's neck idly.
It took great effort from Istaryl to remain still during such trying time of his life. He felt as if every twitch of a limb, every flick of his tail, every jerk of his body might awake the drake. However, if Istaryl remained still, maybe this storm would blow over. All he had to do was regulate his breath, stare at the window, and think anxiety-inducing thoughts that might kill off his erection. Something philosophical, deep, and foreboding ought to do it.
I'm a failure. I have no future. Both me and Karyl had a great chance at doing something worthy of our talents, but instead, we had forsaken everything in favor of hugging, licking, mounting each other day and night.
No, wait, wrong picture! That wasn't what he wanted to think about! He should have thought of anything but lewd thoughts, to dwell on the responsibilities he harbored, to ponder on the paths still available to him. He better started to dwell on them now before it was too late. After all, there was no time like the present.
An advice taken to heart by his swelling member. Right now, at this very moment, his erection cared not one bit for his musings. It continued to grow, and grow, and grow, coaxed by the drake's moist slit, fueled by Istaryl's wanton thoughts, ever drifting towards the promise of what two joined bodies could achieve together. Although he'd had a good tactic, his helplessly perverted mind turned against him, seeking the refuge of all the good times he and Karyl had shared, sweeping his troubles aside to invite over a myriad of lewd, vivid images for Istaryl's mind's eye to glance through.
If things seemed bad before, they now reached dreadful proportions. Istaryl's tapered shaft finally showed its tip, slipping out of its sanctuary, poking at the blue-green drake's slit, so tightly pressed against his. In the heat of the moment, Istaryl angled his hips to the side, allowing his cock to slip past the drake's dainty entrance instead of delving inside its depths. It was a smart move. One that actually--
Istaryl bit back a yelp as the drake made his move as well by shoving his crotch against Istaryl, mumbling something incoherent as he swayed his hips gently, forcing their genders to rub together. His crevice opened invitingly around Istaryl's smooth, fleshy baton, spreading hot slickness along it.
Spit stuck in the red drake's throat when the stranger's folds molded around his erection, the copious amounts of lubrication helping Istaryl slide halfway into the tight, fleshy tunnel. A spike of electrifying pleasure dispersed through him, rousing his instincts, allowing muscle memory to kick in.
In the heat of the moment, with his tightness buried up to the middle into his companion, the only logical way to avoid a full penetration was to put more distance between their joined bodies. To do that, Istaryl went with the first thing that popped into his mind. He rolled to the left, the motion flipping the smaller male onto his back, with Istaryl ending right on top of him. Inadvertently, he slipped further into the drake's depths, touching that very private part of him that slept just as soundly.
The sleepy drake gasped and moaned silently, spreading his thighs further in invitation. He seemed strangely content to have Istaryl lay on top of him, their bodies melting into one another, their genders interlocked.
And Istaryl ended this almost perfect moment by shifting his weight onto his knees, each leg placed evenly around the blue-green drake's thighs. His cock fell right on top of that small, delicate mound, the soft throbs rippling through it making the stranger's entrance shudder ever so softly.
Huffs of one-part pleasure, three parts panic left Istaryl's gaped mouth. His body burned hotter than ever, and his heart thumped so hard, Istaryl thought it would burst any moment now. He had never been put in such anxiety-inducing situation, where every passing second amplified the hollowness growing within his stomach. Fear, shame, and above all, regret converged upon his fragile mind, threatening to unravel him.
Maybe if he wasn't such a pervert himself, Istaryl would have. A sensible, rational drake might have crumbled under the pressure of a thousand possible repercussions, but Istaryl's inner conflict kept his emotions at bay, his stubbornness stronger than any negative outcome to this ridiculous matter.
Why would he regret this? Why carry the blame of what transpired here? He feared that the drake might wake up, which was a valid concern that never came to fruition.
An unfounded worry, nothing more.
He also felt ashamed of invading the young male's privacy, of entering a very sequestered part of his body reserved only to those worthy of his affection. However, the drake himself coerced him into it! If he wouldn't have squirmed and moaned and flashed his erection around, Istaryl wouldn't have intervened. If he wouldn't have rubbed his soggy slit against Istaryl's, the red drake wouldn't have grown erect.
As such, shame didn't belong here. It was a redundant feeling, a product of Istaryl's mind trying to justify his offense. The crux of the matter was that he did nothing wrong. The drake lured him onwards, little by little, and Istaryl did what every sensible drake put in his situation would: to follow the signs.
That had to be it. Everything that had happened here was the product of Istaryl's curiosity, flared by the drake's erotic dreams. Heck, if he wasn't such a sleepy head, then perhaps he would have had something to say in the matter, like growling, shoving Istaryl off him, giving the red drake honest proof that he found such erotic practices vile, that he abhorred such perversion.
However, that wasn't the case, and soon enough, it became clear to Istaryl that the drake enjoyed the attention he received, his epiphany making him wonder whether his companion was truly asleep.
That thought infuriated and excited him in equal measure. If there was one thing Istaryl disliked, that had to do with being played around by others, namely this cute looking bum who had the tendency of falling asleep on counters. Was it an elaborate plan? A joke he devised with Undrethyl in order to test the mettle of the impressionable drakes that perverted innkeeper lured into his fine establishment?
Istaryl couldn't know, let alone guess. The only way to get to the bottom of it was to play his role, and figure out just how many wonderful things he could do to this lovely creature before he woke up.
After he took in a deep, reassuring breath, Istaryl grabbed the smaller male's legs and spread them further to the sides, the whites of his inner thighs and belly contrasting with the darker hues present on the rest of his body. His slit stood in the middle, the film of arousal coating the drake's leathery hide giving his sex a glossy appearance.
Istaryl's tail tip brushed against the hay, swishing with renewed impatience. He knew what he had to do--what both him and the male wanted--yet it still felt difficult to go through with it. A nagging doubt, located at the back of his mind, urged him to stop and consider what he was about to do, especially when he knew so little of his cuddle buddy.
I know that this lustful creature shoved his sex against mine and started to behave as if we are lovers. It's enough, Istaryl deduced, clinging to this particular belief as he began rubbing his shaft along the drake's slit, savoring the warmth throbbing through his vulnerable hide.
Istaryl's toes clenched. His thighs pressed tighter against the blue-green legs, tail wrapping around that of the younger drake to keep it from wiggling around. The drake's head slumped to the side, a hand splayed over the hay bedding while the other kneaded at his belly, a pleasant hum rippling within his throat. His knees jerked every now and then, and his back arched ever so slightly, directing his slit into Istaryl's tip.
The red drake gulped hard. A rush of self-consciousness surged through him, making him painfully aware of what he was doing, of what he intended to do.
You already have a loving and caring mate. Do you really have to go through this? Is it really necessary to prove a point through such crude means?
Istaryl should have listened to that voice of reason, but his member had grown to full mast, and a veil of lust flowed over his senses, addling them, obscuring them, shielding them from his rational side. Tremors of delight slithered under his hide. His knees shifted a little, making the hay rustle as the flowing movements of his hips picked up.
To block the pleasured moan that clawed at his throat for release, Istaryl clenched his jaw, screwed his eyes shut, and held on tightly onto the young male's knees, surrendering himself to the euphoria coursing through his frame. His member glided back and forth, guided by the narrow crevice that made up the male's gender, keeping to the surface for the time being.
The promise of something tighter, hotter, and moister didn't elude Istaryl for long. He soon began to yearn for more than just the shallow pleasure the drake's slit offered. Beneath his tight lips sprawled a fleshy tunnel, shuddering at the prospect of being penetrated.
Too hard for his own good, Istaryl found himself unable to resist its allure. What started off as a game of mutual teasing grew into a pressing desire that escalated into a burning need to spill his pent-up desire into this very attractive creature.
Istaryl groped the drake's thighs, caressing them with his thumbs, his lascivious panting betraying his lust-addled goal. A bead of aqueous precum slipped past his tip, growing into a crystalline globe that dribbled down onto the male's delicate furrow, sinking into his pink nethers.
Breathless, his throat parched and his frame taut with purpose, Istaryl pushed his member past the drake's folds slowly, deliberately, noticing the fierce blush tinting his cheeks shortly before a deep, unfathomable pleasure forced his eyelids to scrunch shut.
Unable to keep it inside anymore, Istaryl released his pent-up moan of delight, the sound sharp, frighteningly loud. Much to his relief, the younger drake's rumbling growl muffled his passionate cry, lessening Istaryl's panic, allowing him to fully enjoy the slick rigidity of a slit.
Compared to Karyl, this drake was significantly tighter, his smaller size reflecting on his sex as well. And that was just the tip of the iceberg! As soon as Istaryl's tip brushed against the male's flaccid appendage, his muscles clamped around Istaryl's intruding member, slick warmth embracing him from all sides like nothing else ever did.
"Mrraaaaaaaah!" Istaryl rumbled gutturally. He remained lodged inside that shuddering, fleshy sanctuary, fully savoring the stimulating hold of a young, inexperienced slit. He wasn't the first to be inside such comfy depths. A virgin would have jolted onto their feet, roaring and squirming in panic, or maybe attempt to bite Istaryl's head off for taking what they didn't willingly give. He was, however, the second or third for this particular drake, his girth stretching his silken walls and poking at his soft member, drenched with their combined arousal.
That gave Istaryl ideas. No male as moist and ready as this one should have been left wanting. A male drake's slit had a sensitivity equal to that of a female, on top of their receptive member. It was no wonder that the Stillpine tribe devised numerous ways to take advantage of the features their bodies boasted, leading to scenarios where males happily mated each other as if they were opposite genders.
Gradually, carefully, Istaryl pulled back, his tight, smooth shaft stimulating the drake's shuddering walls on the way out, making him twitch and moan and squirm in Istaryl's embrace. Once he was almost out, Istaryl pushed himself back in, repeating the elaborate, back and forth thrusts several times, plunging just a bit deeper with every attempt. His aim was to get the male ready for the actual mating, to help his small, sensitive cock get accustomed to being squished to the side in order to make room for Istaryl's superior size.
By the looks and sounds of his blushing cheeks and cute moans, the smaller drake enjoyed himself even more than Istaryl did. This blue-green rogue waited for it, yearned for it, and when Istaryl finally fell for his cheap and obvious trick, he became more vocal than Karyl, all while still being asleep!
Although his mind was blissfully ignorant to it, his body most certainly reacted to the myriad of stimuli poking at the drake's senses. He curled one of his legs around Istaryl's right thigh. His tail coiled around Istaryl's butt, urging him to thrust with subtle tugs, and his other leg raised high into the air, giving Istaryl complete control over his body.
The red drake grinned at the sight. Of all the outcomes that he imagined, the ideal one slipped by him. What could have been better than a deep sleeper, pent-up with desire, so small and cute and alluring? If given enough time, Istaryl could have thought of a few things, but for the time being, he simply hugged the drake's leg and continued to push and pull out of that ridiculously wet slit, squelching sounds accompanying the soft pumping motions of his hips.
Soon enough, the moans, the growls, the thumping of the drake's tail became background details to Istaryl, unimportant, redundant. His focus channeled towards the fiery tendrils slinking through his shaft, reinforced by each methodical thrust. His attention poured into the strength and speed of his strokes, keeping every single one of them just right. Too deep, too fast, and the drake might wake up.
At least he didn't have to worry about the blue drake's erection. Some males had the innate instinct of remaining flaccid during penetration, a reaction developed with the purpose of fully savoring the overwhelming pleasure brought by having their fleshy insides and cock stimulated at the same time. The drake's moistening slit gave that away, but Istaryl couldn't have been certain until he actually tried it.
The several minutes he spent stretching his slumbering lover acted as solid proof that this drake was full of surprises. Istaryl felt at great ease in his embrace, as if he belonged here, the eerie sense of familiarity perplexing and arousing Istaryl in equal measure.
Rather than dwell on it, he gasped in delight, allowing his tongue to loll to the side and his eyes to close as he immersed himself in the simple yet satisfying pleasure of mating. He was getting close now, the constant poking and rubbing and sliding alongside the drake's cock working Istaryl up faster than he expected.
"Hey..."
Istaryl's body quaked. His eyes snapped open, jaw hanging ajar as he suddenly stared into the vermilion eyes of the sleepy drake, so deep and mesmerizing and widely opened.
Only, he wasn't sleeping anymore. He was awake.
He was awake!
HE AWOKE!
The shock stunned Istaryl. If it wasn't for the drake's strong, muscular tail pulling him in, he would have flopped onto his back for sure.
For a brief, tension filled moment, Istaryl remained utterly silent, looking sideways, frozen in shame. His heart skipped a beat, and his temples throbbed so hard he thought his head would explode from the pressure of his caged emotions.
And then, all of a sudden, the drake reached forward to plant a short, sudden lick on Istaryl's snout, trilling happily.
What? How? Why? Questions of all sorts popped into Istaryl's head, distancing him from his act of lovemaking, making him forget that, for better or worse, he was still inside this wonderful male.
The drake certainly knew that, his intentions heralded by his mischievous purr. With an abrupt tug of his tail, he shoved Istaryl against his body, forcing him to bury all the way in, curt moans exploding out of the mouths of the two drakes.
Stars speckled Istaryl's vision from the onrush of fiery ecstasy that crawled along his spine. Their slits joined, their members interlocked, the two drakes savored this short, magical moment, more or less. Istaryl's friend squeaked and moaned like a hatchling ready to release for the first time, while the red drake had yet to shrug off that terribly shameful episode from earlier.
And yet, regardless of how awkward he felt, Istaryl's best course of action was to finish what he started, his instincts guiding him when his mind refused to accept and overcome his situation. As such, Istaryl began pumping his hips against the drake's smaller body, caught in the fetters of the pressing instinct to breed, the strongest and most daunting to resist.
Dizzy with ecstasy, Istaryl barely noticed the drake's arms wrapping around his frame in a reassuring manner. His tongue was all over his face, basking him with liquid affection, and his ubiquitous purr soothed him bit by bit, helping him forget about the shocking revelation he suffered earlier.
That strange sense of familiarity engulfed Istaryl once again, reminding him of that one moment when Karyl, too, shocked him with his proposal to take him in the slit. There was something about this drake, something that kept Istaryl going where others would have faltered. Maybe it was his soft, pleasant scent, that of pine needles crushed together, that soothed Istaryl. Maybe it was his soft hide that flared his senses, so soft and warm to the touch. Or maybe it had to do with his sensuous licks that harbored that innocent sort of affection always present in the younger drakes.
Whatever it was, Istaryl felt like he had to cling onto it and never let go. He had liked this drake from the very beginning, and now that they embraced each other, Istaryl felt a strong urge to hug him and pound him with increasingly harder and faster strokes.
"Mrarr, raarr, rrrr!" The younger drake cried out, his ears flapping in unison with Istaryl's thrusting motions. Unlike him, Istaryl restrained his moans, a continuous growl being his only way to express his passion for the one who he mated with. The closer he got to his climax, the more his sounds muffled, every function of his body fading, just like the hay bedding on which they sat upon, or the room around them. Little by little, stroke by steady stroke, Istaryl climbed towards his peak, until the molten pleasure welled within his groin was all that mattered.
With one last mighty shove, Istaryl plunged himself deep into the drake's sanctuary, sliding past the smaller, limp cock, forcing it to the side in his attempt to pierce the deepest reaches of the drake's tunnel. For Istaryl's companion, this final thrust was too much to bear, his tight nethers unaccustomed to such pleasurably violent intrusion. At the height of his climax, the blue-green drake hoisted himself up, clinging onto Istaryl as if his life depended on it, thighs wrapped around his waist, tail intertwined with Istaryl's thicker, stiffer one.
Spasms traversed through the smaller male's slit. His cock lurched and pulsated, pattering Istaryl's blood engorged cock with weak, scalding spurts of seed. The extra moisture, coupled with the excessive tightness of his slit and cock, pushed Istaryl past the limit of his endurance, causing him to erupt inside his lover with a loud, shuddering yowl. His back arched, his knees shook, and his grip on the male tightened, keeping him tight against his body while he filled his young sex to the brim with his thick, pent-up, creamy essence.
Halfway through his orgasm, Istaryl's balance faltered, the male's weight finally becoming noticeable. Try as he might to hold onto his lover, Istaryl's frame was too spent, his muscles too numb to work as intended while Istaryl's senses still drowned under the waves of high battering him. Much to his chagrin, he accidentally dropped his lover.
And, as if that wasn't a big enough humiliation, Istaryl crashed right on top of him the next second, eliciting a pained gasp from the surprised male.
He didn't even know what to feel. The afterglow of his mating intertwined with the anxiety pounding within his heart and temples, leaving Istaryl more conflicted than ever. How could something so nice end up so wrong?
His companion didn't see it this way. He seized this moment of respite to press his body against Istaryl, wiggling his hips lightly so that he guided the red drake back inside his dripping slit, where the heated comfort of his walls drew a sharp gasp out of Istaryl. That done, he slipped his arms around Istaryl's sides, the confused red drake watching with wide eyes as this stranger embraced him like only a lover could.
This unexpected gesture of affection stunned Istaryl. He had broken every single rule of mating, starting with a violation of the male's sex and ending with the terribly shameful act of dropping his mate as if he was a boulder. And, to top it all off, his lover gave him the most unfair treatment ever, squeezing his sorry form as if he actually succeeded in giving him pleasure.
Afraid to screw this last step as well, Istaryl reluctantly hugged him, looking sideways as he did, wondering what in the world this drake was thinking. The more he dwelled on it, the broader his smile grew, until he grinned like a virgin who had mated for the first time.
Sleep must have addled your mind a great deal, my sweetest, Istaryl thought, resting his chin between his ears, rubbing his back tenderly. The drake's purr grew richer, more fulfilling, the sound of utter contentment. It made doubts vanish from Istaryl's mind, inviting a growing feeling of affection for him, the urge to protect this small fellow urging Istaryl to clutch him tighter to his breast.
However strange this day turned out to be, Istaryl had no regrets, aside from one. Maybe if Karyl took the initiative to mate him sooner, maybe they would have been lovers during the hunt for the cobalt rhino. That could have changed everything.
Including this encounter, Istaryl thought, letting out a deep sigh. He nuzzled one of the young male's flappy ears, chuckling when it shuddered. Ticklish one, wasn't he? Istaryl licked him to remove the itchy sensation, smiling as the drake cooed his appreciation. Istaryl expected him to say something, to at least tell him his name.
Instead, the drake snuggled tighter against him, releasing a shuddering, satisfied moan, sniffling softly to emphasize his desire to rest.
It took all of Istaryl's willpower to bite back a chuckle. He never considered sleepyheads charming, but in this case, he had to make an exception. He looked far too peaceful, far too attractive while he dozed off, the embodiment of utter cuteness.
It made Istaryl's heart swell, to lie in the embrace of such fascinating creature, and his sleeping habits began to rub off on him as well. He yawned for a long, satisfying moment before he settled his head back on top of his lover's nape, ready to join him in his slumber.
A raspy cough jolted Istaryl back to his senses. He jerked his head towards the door, where Undrethyl awaited in tow with...
Karyl?!
Blood froze within Istaryl's veins. With lightning-fast reactions, he disentangled himself from the pile of limbs and tail of the sleepy drake, tripping on his tail while clambering out of the bed, lurching to a stop right in front of his mate, whose tail swished nonchalantly.
"I--I uh...took him back to his room," Istaryl stuttered, pointing towards the blue-green drake who curled into a ball in Istaryl's absence. "Undrethyl's request."
"Wrong room," the innkeeper said, folding his arms across his chest, his poise stoic, his gaze chilling.
"No, it's the right room. First on the left."
"On the right."
The corners of Undrethyl's snout began to twitch, until he could no longer contain his mirth. Both him and Karyl exploded into merry laughter, the innkeeper wobbling over to Karyl, who stood on his haunches. He leaned against him, his hand ruffling his sumptuous mane, even fondling one of his ears.
Istaryl remained rooted in place, scratching behind an ear idly, utterly flustered.
Karyl shook his head, snorting his irritation at being tickled in such mischievous way.
"You played this part perfectly," Undrethyl said between the occasional chuckle. "Though you had help. Karyl suggested to leave a door opened. Didn't matter which. Said you would practically stumble into the room in your rush to...to..." he trailed off, leaning over to whisper something in Karyl's ear, giving him one final pat on the shoulder before he turned around to leave.
"You have taken quite a liking to your mate's brother, I see," Undrethyl noted, eying Istaryl's seed drenched slit.
"And Garyl to him," Karyl intervened, growling his appreciation to the innkeep as Undrethyl disappeared into the stairway. "Not even mother could get him to purr like that."
Istaryl's world crumbled around him. His knees buckled, as if the floor suddenly liquefied around him. Too much happened too fast: Undrethyl's request, the sleepyhead's lustful displays, his--
Istaryl looked up at Karyl, his eyes slowly narrowing.
"You're--he's your--"
"Brother," Karyl said, approaching Istaryl to lessen the shock of the discovery with a gentle trill and a few licks on his snout. "He's even shier than you are, and our dearest Undrethyl offered to pitch in and offer his expertise. The rest, as they say, is history."
It suddenly clicked together, a transparent scheme that Istaryl should have seen right through.
But he didn't. He got too busy fondling Garyl's rump. He employed one too many excuses to reach this one outcome. For better or worse, he had allowed himself to get this far, just for the sake of indulging this one particular curiosity, of mating with a stranger who gave off too strong signals.
Istaryl swallowed hard, pushing back the lump that formed in his throat to say, "Your brother. Did he know we're mates?"
Karyl shifted onto his fours, inching closer to Garyl. He sniffed at the product of love smeared all over Garyl's slit, the warm gusts of air making the drake shudder, spread his legs, and crack an eye open.
"Close your eyes. You ought to pretend you're asleep, you oaf."
Garyl groaned in response, weaving his tail around Karyl's neck, pulling him towards his slit, just like he had pulled Istaryl into his slit earlier.
An icy shudder shook the red drake's frame as he watched his mate's tongue glide along his lover's slit, scooping up seed and arousal alike. Both Karyl and Garyl favored Istaryl fleeting glances, trying to coax a reaction out of him, enjoying their twisted game, undoubtedly.
"So, were you really asleep, or was that part of Undrethyl's game as well?" Istaryl began fretting, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, his ears twitching in irritation.
Garyl closed his eyes, grinning in satisfaction, tongue lolling to the side of his maw when Karyl's dexterous tongue slipped through his folds, the muscular appendage parting his crevice in such erotic way that Istaryl had to look away in order to hide his smirk.
"That is for you to decide," Karyl said. He drew back to lick his muzzle clean before climbing into bed with his brother, wrapping a paw around his chest and pulling him close to him. "What do you like more? The truth, or the fantasy?"
What sort of twisted question was this?
A damn good one, Istaryl thought, the awkward silence only broken by Garyl's purr and Karyl's mellow growl.
"He's a very indecisive sort," Garyl said, as if Istaryl wasn't right there, sharing the room with them!
"Not more than you are." Karyl bit his brother's ear, drawing a yelp from him, using that window to fixate Istaryl with his warm, reassuring gaze.
"Last I recall, we're still mates, so come share the bed with us." He flicked his tail suggestively, then pointed its tip towards Garyl. "Us privileged few can call him Garyl, but you'll hear the rest address him as Algaryl. Formalities, nothing more. He is also--"
"A chief ambassador for several tribes, Stillpine included, which is why my presence here has gone unnoticed," Garyl interrupted, poking his tail tip at Karyl's slit, who kept swatting him out of the way with his own tail.
"He is also three summers younger than me, so you picked the wrong brother as your mate."
Istaryl had enough. He had to say it, to vent out his frustrations. "Why settle on one when I can have both?"
Karyl and Garyl shared a look, hissing in amusement to one another. Then, without sharing another word, they both shifted to make room in the bed for Istaryl, looking at him expectantly.
Istaryl released a nervous sigh, lifting a tentative foot, keeping it above the ground for an excruciatingly long second. What had he gotten himself into?!
***THE END***
Thank you very much for reading! I love writing stories for a living, you will have my undying gratitude if you reward me by:
A) Commissioning your own story: https://www.sofurry.com/view/717455
B) Spoiling your favorite feline with some money so that he, in turn, spoils you with stories: https://www.patreon.com/cheetahs?ty=h