# Mach 2 Love

Author: pyky
Tags: Concorde, Gelspring, Goo, Goo creature, Liquidshifting, Mechanophilia, Ovulation, Wyvern, chrome, gel, liquid metal

A matcha tea gel has an egg mishap with a Concorde-wyvern made of kerosene. The two are bound by Depeche-nanosilica into a rush of instincts and passion.

Contains: hikikomori escape, barazoku lover, pseudomechanophilia, mechanophilia, mile high club, ovulation, sentient eggs, prehensile dicks, liquidshifting, parenting, casual incest

Something I wanted to finish for Easter :P

Posted using PostyBirb

Mach 2 Love  
Chapter I.  
Shirou woke up inside a compartmentalized bubble, like many do now. Shirou was  
a Depeche but that didn't stop him from not appreciating being fully liquid. Where  
Amaranth as a batch had enabled gels some control over viscosity, to being as fluid  
as shampoo or as hard as dry honey, Depeche enabled water-like fluidity or  
plastic-like hardness. To the gel, made of nanosilica bound to green matcha tea,  
having a bubble to pool into was essential before he emerged to harden like a wave,  
often decorating himself with plastic-like scales. Shirou's preferred shape of a  
pangolin was a semi-anthro shape with dexterous hands and slightly longer ears.  
As he exited his bubble, little did he want to melt again, it was a pain to once more  
redo the scales he had.  
As he exited into the 500 meters and 300 meters tall hardened bubble full of gels  
slowly secreting slime from their tails to weave themselves homes made of silisilk,  
Shirou groaned. The giant bubble had been at the center of Suraimu-Tokyo for so  
long as just a space where anthros, turned into gels, could courageously meet and  
talk. There were even enforcers to ensure that public lewdness was restricted, even  
if passion burned for many in gel. It's why there were "rooms" of dark siliglass,  
why there were black bubbles here and there. In countries where public a????ection  
was a bit of a taboo, it was just normal that there were "kissing booth" bubbles  
where instead of kissing, gels mingled.  
Shirou was making his way to the nearby link cafe. His phone broke in 2038, after 8  
years, so now he needed a screen and a computer to show gel.link and interact with  
bubbles. Like always, gels didn't need a mouse or a keyboard, just the visual of  
touching the wide, flat screen where there was no post yet. Ever since gels had  
shared an unconscious mental space, posting was just about thinking and touching  
where they wanted the others to see it. Picturing an image or a video where they  
touched the screen, blew a bubble where their paw was touching.  
Shirou saw only 21 000 bubbles, all disorganized against the white background, on  
a slow day. Some gels never wanted to leave the screens, posting and interacting  
with the bubbles, generating imagined fantasies to share to others in desperate  
need for closer contact.  
Shirou didn't wish to talk to anyone in the cafe. He was unfortunate to sometimes  
see through the dark bubbles as he walked back home from the link cafe, seeing  
others having a great time and it put pressure on him. Pressure that should never  
be normalized in a world so full of love. His parents were...Well, di????cult. Even if it  
had been ten years and age wasn't a thing that gels had to worry about, Shirou did  
still receive letters from them to call. But each time, Shirou was forced to hear the  
same questions, as if those questions even mattered. Marriage, house, job,  
cleaning, diploma, education. Letters which were useless because Shirou didn't  
have another phone.  
He had planned to leave for America, be open and love openly. Gelspring were  
treated di????erently in many Asian countries; they were expected to function at a  
higher standard than gels because their knowledge spanned two progens's  
experiences. Shirou didn't want to fuse with someone to bring someone into that  
kind of pressure. So, he went to seek guides into how to fly over the Pacific.  
Though...Depeche was immune to salt if fully hardened, which allowed seafaring  
too. There were underwater transportation leviathans that didn't shy away from  
getting close with the passengers, but Shirou was tepid to read about such a thing.  
There also were leviathans called "Concorderns".  
Reading more, The Concordern Association was recruiting bigger gels, especially  
the emerging phlogel-like Fire Deviants, to make use of their gifts. Depeche, stable  
as it was, still left phlogels with hydrocarbon bodies. With increased control over  
one's viscosity, Fire Deviants could mimic the functions of a...jet engine. A  
hardened shell housed an "engine", like a giant belly. Fire Deviants need to  
swallow and ram air by spinning turbo-compressed blades (mouth), squeeze air  
into a chamber (belly) where immense heat would expand the air into high  
propulsion, and exhaust would merge with moisture to become fuel again. The end  
result was a new generation of commercialized aviation.  
The picture of a Depeche gel smiling while having a downwards pointing nose, eyes  
where the cockpit usually was, while holding within them maybe 90 anthro-sized  
gels before rapidly spinning the mouth-shaped engine blades into gulping and  
shooting flaming air and taking o???? while warping their hard gel to resemble  
aluminum sheen...Shirou felt funny. The big plane-looking wyverns could take him  
to America, maybe he'd get to meet one, ask how it felt to carry so many and fly so  
fast. As he walked back towards his bubble, he tried not to glow to think of who his  
pilot was going to be. A giant, liquid metal concordern, a wyvern with the wings,  
engines and nozzle of the fastest commercial plane to ever exist.  
\*\*\*  
The airport was a bit quiet, the holes in the tarmac were patched with silisilk, a  
kind of hardening slime web. Generally, the airport seemed abandoned, but gels  
were snoozing here and there, drooping from the ceiling and waiting for  
vibrations. Shirou was a bit small, sitting on a chair for someone anthro-sized. His  
matcha tea body had shrunk due to his body oddly melting at times into round  
globs. Even now, Shirou was bumpy, his gel felt weird. He felt weird, he seemed  
desperate to cling to someone and just...part. He didn't have a partner so he  
pleasured himself often, and he could swear it made him chunkier, bumpier, like he  
was full of marbles.  
Suddenly, a low roar began to approach and shake windows. Shirou jumped to see  
the 9 pools big, streamlined, pointy-nosed gel in the shape of a Concorde adjust  
thrusters to slow down into a VTOL landing just outside the gate. The side of the  
leviathan opened into a slide as maybe six gels slid out and morphed wings to  
migrate elsewhere. Slowly, the concorde formed rear legs and claws to its wings,  
tail extending out. The giant beast yawned and rubbed its belly, full of red lava, in  
actuality it was gel that had cycled from being shot out to being reabsorbed before  
energy could push it out as exhaust. Thrust without smoke.  
Shirou stepped out of the terminal building as the Concordern scraped ice o???? from  
its "metal", the leviathan had to be fully solid for aerodynamic purposes and  
reflected light like aluminum. Shirou walked to stare at the big beast, as the  
concordern curiously looked at the pangolin.  
"Hi." Samson said as Shirou glowed. "Ko-konni-..." Shirou stuttered as Samson  
smiled.  
"Konnichiwa." Samson finished and lowered his sharp nozzle closer for Shirou to  
touch. The pangolin felt the aluminum-sheen gel, cold from ice. "Ah...It's frozen."  
Shirou said as Samson smiled. "It's because I have to come down from the  
stratosphere through a colder layer called mesosphere. Is this your first time flying  
one of us?" Samson asked.  
"I...I'm..." Shirou tried to say.  
"Oh...my little pangolin. I have seats where you don't need to look out of the  
window. I can also keep you as close to the front so you can see me fly. I'm gentle  
with take-o????s, don't worry." Samson assured.  
"I...take me away, please." Shirou quietly asked as Samson looked at the slightly  
upset pangolin, wide-eyed. "Get inside then!" Samson said, the slide became a  
serrated set of stairs to climb as Shirou went around to look. He took calm steps up  
to the cabin.  
The cabin was colored deep blue. it was dark inside, except the lava under the floors  
at the back lit up the insides of the leviathan su????ciently. The seats were morphed  
for comfort, cup-like so gels could melt in peace while reclining. There were even  
just jars where passengers could enjoy the warmth of the engines and melt.  
Shirou sat down, not caring where. He felt hesitant to abandon it all, but he wanted  
a new life. One not tied to people stuck to the days when they were anthros.  
Inside, the front was an oozing wall, where passengers could see through, though  
Samson's hazy gel, blue in color, turned the inside of the plane into a night. Dim,  
warm light was produced by Samson's inferno roaring and ready to suck air and  
blast away, which also warmed the cabin to a comfortable 65 degrees Celsius.  
Shirou sighed as other gels climbed aboard, going a bit more back towards the  
engines due to how the warmth of the fire allowed gels to relax and lose sense of  
time on the flight over the sea. Shirou's seat came alive as Samson wanted to  
ensure something. "What's your name?" The concordern asked, through a replica  
of its giant self, as the pangolin remained a bit hesitant. "Shirou." He said. Samson  
gave Shirou a quick, warm hug through the chair. "Welcome aboard, Shirou."  
Samson said, as the plane seat softened to let the pangolin sink further in. "Let me  
know if there's anything you need. Few of my passengers wish to remain conscious  
mid-flight. I can make anything come true." The living plane said as behind  
Shirou, the hybrid turbofan engines sputtered alive. Suction unlike any squeezed  
fire out as Samson hovered in VTOL, floated, flew and zoomed upwards to where  
the earth's curve dominated the horizon. The wyvern melted to hold its liquid  
metal hull in the shape of nothing resembling a draconid, the wyvern was once  
more a commercial aircraft.  
Thirty minutes into the flight, Shirou could see the ocean below, clouds were  
speeding past. He looked back and saw how organic the process was. The engines  
were four mouths, full of fans, squeezing and swallowing air into four chambers  
where blinding fire merged with the cold air into exploding outwards. Thrust was  
filtered by many gill-like flaps, no smoke emerged. The gills had veins full of  
glowing gel, which were coursing back into the tank of glowing gel, smoke and  
water combined to make fuel. "Sugoi..." Shirou muttered.  
Next to each seat was a "rope", a gelatinous tentacle to pull if the passenger  
wanted something. After a bit of hesitation, Shirou pulled on it. The front seat  
melted to form a replica, a wyvern anthro one, standing in front of Shirou as a blue  
gel. Samson swished his tail as he had been waiting for Shirou to challenge him  
into making one of his passengers luxuriantly comfortable. Shirou however,  
felt...special. Crouching down his muscled frame, Samson came to eye level with  
the pangolin.  
"Why did you want to leave Japan?" He asked calmly.  
"A...Aijou..." Shirou could only describe. Samson, being a pilot, had reason to  
increase his data to match and remember all languages. The word he knew,  
meaning a????ection, made Samson shimmer slightly. "Hard with how strict things  
became. No way around it. I'm sorry you've been lonely." Samson agreed. Shirou  
looked at Samson with curious eyes. Samson gently brushed Shirou's head as the  
pangolin leaned into the touch.  
"When was the last time someone just comforted you?" Samson calmly asked as  
Shirou couldn't take it and leaned in to hug Samson. Samson embraced Shirou,  
gently petting him. "W-woah hey there. It's not so bad?" Samson asked.  
Yet...Shirou felt the barriers melting, the closer to America Shirou was. "I never  
want to leave." Shirou said. The need for touch caused Shirou to...bubble.  
Suddenly, Shirou's body wished to part as Samson backed away. "W-Hey, don't lay  
eggs here!" Samson pleaded as Shirou tried to stop his gel that bubbled, eager to  
separate.. "Gomen!~" Shirou apologized as Samson felt a bit awkward having to  
see the pangolin almost lay. "I have something wrong!" Shirou excused.  
"What's that about? How long have you held your first clutch within you?" Samson  
asked as Shirou sighed, the squeezes were calming down. "I'm not...I have no  
eggs!" Shirou said as Samson glowed. "Y-you...I see where your touch starvation  
emerges from. You're packed and ready to pop." Samson said and gently touched  
Shirou's belly that swirled with tangerine-sized globs.  
"Forgive me...I'm w-weird..." Shirou said as Samson smiled. "There is nothing  
weird about you. Depeche gels secrete eggs naturally. You've been pleasuring  
yourself, simulating intercourse causes eggs to form. You've had a lot of fun  
alone..." Samson told Shirou as Shirou groaned. "It...How do you say...It tickles very  
much." Shirou complained, squishing around his belly. Samson patted Shirou on  
his belly too, as Shirou yelped. "I bet you'll find a great partner for your children."  
Samson said.  
"Ch-ch-children?" Shirou asked in confusion. "Yes. Children. Depeche imitates  
organic life profusely, to dumbing down gelspring even. Your children need  
parents...for maybe two months after hatching. That is...if you want to fertilize your  
clutch. I know I...haven't had the ability to. Phlogels, jamgels...We're infertile, I'm  
afraid." Samson said as Shirou frowned.  
"I...have no friends." Shirou directly said as Samson was surprised how direct  
Shirou was, maybe for lack of social skills. He wanted to cheer Shirou up somehow.  
The other passengers were just napping balls of gel, enjoying the warm glow the  
roaring VCE thrusters o????ered.  
"Don't you wanna sleep with the others? It gets warm in the rear." Samson asked.  
"You're warm enough." Shirou said, hugging Samson as Samson glowed mid-air.  
Never had he had a passenger like this little pangolin. Though, Shirou was  
obviously su????ering from a need for someone to fertilize his clutch, an instinct  
almost that emerged as Depeche gels' touchy-feely desires. Samson though...Was  
a????ected too.  
"Look, Shirou...I know you're eager to lay for someone, but remember that I'm not  
fertile, I think. I mean...I'll try to make you comfortable enough." Samson said as  
Shirou's chair became a bean bag where the pangolin shaped gel eased into. Shirou  
couldn't look at Samson, the nozzled concordern's anthropomorphic replica was  
too friendly-looking, with a barazoku body, head shaped like the plane, a tail like  
that of a shark. In the dim yellow light, Shirou felt safe and calm, ready to sleep the  
rest of the way, worrying he might be ready to lay for the plane. But Samson felt  
right. Samson was as close to a friend Shirou had had in...14 years.  
Samson melted away, before looking at Shirou. The pangolin full of eggs felt weird  
for the pilot. Samson felt the need to help the little gel lay and...seed. But Samson  
was infertile. Phlogels weren't fertile, though Fire Deviants...Perhaps Depeche was  
Depeche, Amaranth eschewed anything that wasn't sweet and sugar. Was it why  
Samson felt so...confused.  
His engines were on "autopilot", thankfully, because Samson felt like he could land  
right now and help Shirou by actually fathering the little one's eggs. All was just  
instincts, Depeche instincts. Though he felt...Shirou would be ready and willing for  
it...  
He spun faster, pushing it, sucking smoke from exhaust faster, no matter how  
much of his nine pools he'd lose, he needed to get to Cali and...Land.  
Chapter II.  
"Oww...It's so much." Shirou muttered. Samson holding the pangolin in his  
replica's arms wasn't helping the matcha colored belly from wildly undulating, like  
tennis balls bouncing inside the gel.  
Samson's replica was all Samson could do as the concordern made an emergency  
landing on the runway, surrounded by silisilk towers, siliglass domes and giant  
trees as the other passengers were rudely evacuated by Samson rejecting out the  
rest on the tarmac from sleep. "CAN'T TALK, GOTTA GO!" Samson yelled. The  
concordern morphed from a Concorde to a wyvern while he melted the pangolin  
into his giant wing arms and made haste to run to the edge of the air strip, away  
from incoming planes.  
"Calm down, I'm here, I'm here, Shirou..." Samson said as the little gel marveled  
the coconut palm trees reaching 450 feet, with bridges between the tops, gels  
walking from tree to tree, bubble to bubble. But it couldn't beat Samson's worried  
look, who now had his eyes for Shirou. The plane-sized wyvern had worries for a  
pangolin maybe four feet tall. The di????erence in size was incredible.  
"Smile. You are good plane." Shirou said as Samson looked confused. "What do you  
mean, little one?" Samson calmly asked. "You are warm." Shirou muttered against  
the wing, Samson was sitting in a lotus position, Shirou against the clawed rear  
legs. Samson gulped, as the pangolin was slowly pushed by something rising. The  
wings of the conordern weren't for anything else than a wyvern-like prowl and  
were poor to prevent Samson's groin from extending outwards, towards Shirou.  
The metal-sheen but soft-as-plastic phallus tapered and gently flopped on Shirou,  
as Samson glowed in terrified embarrassament. He had been too occupied by  
Shirou wriggling in strange pleasure, to the eggs stimulating the pangolin, to  
notice how he became rock hard.  
"I...I'm truly sorry, I'm losing control of my urges." Samson said as Shirou tensed.  
"Mh, mister...I'm..." Shirou squealed and, like a bundle of grapes, the eggs  
unraveled from the stem.  
"Hhhaaammmhhhh..." Was all Shirou could mutter as parting the eggs was  
cathartic, a relief, though Shirou shrank from four feet to three. In Samson's  
wingarms laid a small little gel, tongue out and squirming in delight, surrounded  
by co????ee cup-sized liquid balls of matcha.  
Samson's length wiggled, squeezed as a honey-like ball formed to the tip. Before  
Samson could even react, he squirted. Such was his pull to just...inseminate.  
Samson watched how he coated Shirou in thick syrup, yet it all was absorbed by the  
eggs around Shirou.  
"D-Damn..." Samson muttered as the eggs, one by one, sprouted eyes and mouths;  
awareness. Life.  
"Samson...I'm..." Shirou tried to apologize, but Samson, holding the little one in  
his wyvern-like claw, brought the pangolin for a kiss. Confused, he parted as  
Shirou too was surprised. "I...I'm feeling strange." Samson said.  
The two parted, salivas exchanged, as Samson placed the eggs into his gel to carry  
elsewhere. "Nothing is wrong....N-nothing is wrong..." Samson repeated as Shirou  
was panting. "I couldn't hold it in." The pangolin said.  
"It's...not the end of the world (that already happened), w-we'll just...I can..."  
Samson began to panic. He was a father.  
"You are only friend..." Shirou said, as Samson tried to come down from the brink  
of panic.  
"Maybe we could...go grab a drink? I mean, I am nine million liters big and  
pretending to be a VCE-powered Concorde-wyvern hybrid, and a father to  
gelspring now but uh...UM, yeah! I am not panicking. I am not..." Samson tried to  
say. "I...Matcha." Shirou only said.  
"Ohh boy, the Association will hate this break." Samson said to himself.  
\*\*\*  
The two had gone downtown, downtown being now a cluster of 12 trees, 600 feet  
tall and 200 feet wide, rising over ruins. Shirou had an amazing fortune to find a  
matcha shop. Just the size of Shirou prompted a large shark anthro gel to buy the  
first four, 5l sized cups. Shirou sipped through the silly straw, tiny sips so Shirou  
wouldn't merge into it all. Samson had himself a lemonade slushie, dyed blue, like  
always. He had a color to maintain. The concordern's metallic sheen was just  
viscosity tricks, being blue allowed his "aluminum" to look real.  
Inside him, Samson had morphed first class seats and a neat table for the drinks,  
talking to Shirou through a replica.  
"So...You can't even lay in public there?" Samson asked Shirou as the pangolin  
shook his head. "No mingles, no kisses, no eggs, no self-love." Shirou listed. "I  
thought the gelsplosion was supposed to make anthrofolk open." Samson  
commented. "It is not nice to see, some think..." Shirou continued.  
Samson felt the tennis ball sized balls squirm wildly in his gel, the eggs were just  
weird balls with two eyes and mouths (occasionally).  
"They're eager to see you." Samson said as through the floor of the hollow cabin  
emerged a clutch of eight cup-sized eggs that looked at Shirou, the tennis  
ball-sized eggs glowed as they saw "mom". Three of the eggs were colored blue,  
five were colored green.  
Shirou backed o???? a bit. "Don't be shy, they're you and me! Merged together. All  
they need is a helping hand to understand the world." Samson encouraged.  
Shirou wondered, he hadn't connected stimulating sex to the production of  
non-fertilized eggs before. "Why do I make eggs?" Shirou asked. Samson laughed.  
"We all have the ability to part fruitlessly, you need another gel to give the eggs a  
personality!" He said. "You have a good personality." Shirou said, taking one of the  
goopy eggs and sni????ng how much like matcha and gasoline it had in its fragrance.  
Samson glowed. "I...I hadn't known I could...I'm made of kerosene, after all. It's..."  
Samson tried to say, watching Shirou inside him inspect the smiling fish egg-like  
thing.  
The concordern laid and pondered the date he was having. He was determined to  
raise the young, maybe even coach them to become Fire Deviants like him. "I  
promise to stay with them, make them good...make them fans of aviation, great  
pilots. But that's weeks away! Weeks of...getting to know each other." Samson said  
as Shirou glowed in flustered confusion. "Yes...Samson-kun." Shirou said.  
\*\*\*  
With the night approaching, Samson was settling to sleep in a hangar as Shirou laid  
with the eggs inside him, the two had swapped to carry them. The scent of  
kerosene surrounding Shirou was causing wild thoughts, and Samson felt Shirou's  
gel di????erently now. Shirou felt warm and...synchronized to him  
The concordern was eager to be closer. Through a replica melting from the cabin  
floor around the pangolin, the smaller concorde-wyvern prodded Shirou as the  
pangolin-shaped gel looked in surprise to see Samson's snout right in front of him,  
still larger but not the size of an aircraft.  
"I...I just wanted to say goodnight." Samson tried to normalize yet Shirou saw how  
between the legs of the wyvern replica flailed a phallus desperate to share syrup.  
Shirou gently fell backwards, aided by his tail, quiet gasps came from the pangolin  
semi-anthro as the concordern gently reached his snout towards Shirou's crotch,  
as Shirou was shaping a vaginal cavity fit for the wyvern. "I...It's okay, Shirou. I'm  
just gonna-" Samson tried to say."N-no, Samson-kun, please..." Shirou pleaded.  
The nozzle of the plane beast slid out a metal sheen tentacle that pressed for the  
labia, to see how hard or stretchy Shirou was. Being bendy enough, Samson  
retracted the proboscis-like protrusion and took steps forward in his cabin. All the  
seats melted into a pond of runny blue lemonade, sloshing against the harder hull  
of the plane-like body. In this pool, Samson made steps towards Shirou, though  
Shirou floated closer too.  
Not wasting words, Samson gently steered his prehensile phallus into Shirou and  
felt around. Shirou moaned quietly as he felt the foreign gel as something warm  
exploring him. "Don't be shy. It's just me in there." Samson said as Shirou felt  
Samson coil his tentacle seeder around. "The eggs you could maybe leave to me.  
I'm warm, they'll snooze and not get worried by all I'll do." Samson hinted.  
"O...okay..." Shirou said, the eggs melted from the pangolin to the pool, sucked  
deeper and elsewhere, through the "aluminum", like water almost. "You'll be sure  
to know my most asked in-flight entertainment is me." Samson said as Shirou  
glowed. "Uwa..." He silently yelped.  
The wyvern laid back as the pool, which Shirou had been floating in, instantly  
hardened into a shiny tentacle around the little pangolin, bringing Shirou towards  
the reclining Samson and his erect member. Shirou, kicking, tried to squirm but  
not melt as he didn't wish to actually escape.The first inches pushed through,  
spreading Shirou apart. Trapped inside the solid aluminum-like cabin, Samson  
solidified what little light there was and instead let the teal glow of his phallus light  
the cabin.  
Outside, Samson vicariously lived with his replica, the leviathan was hardening too.  
Sensing from such a small wyvern was normal to him.  
"Like it?" Samson asked as Shirou saw Samson glowing inside him. "Atsui..." The  
little pangolin said. "I am warm, yes. But do I hurt?" Samson asked. "N-no." The  
matcha gel said. "Good, I..I can be too hot for some. Normal gels can't handle the  
heat sometimes." Samson said as Shirou glowed.  
Inside Shirou, Samson made gentle wags, caressing the pangolin. "Tickles..."  
Shirou said. "Focus on the waves, let them resonate. Lean to them... Feel them."  
Samson said as Shirou took his advice.  
What had been but motion became surfaces, textures, excitement. Shirou squeezed  
back, as Samson shifted in viscosity within Shirou, what was a loose swirl became  
solid and back, as Samson sculpted Shirou from the inside. "It...it feels..." Shirou  
said as the tentacle holding the pangolin melted to merge with the replica, as loose  
swirls joined to its tail.  
Liquid was the nature of Samson's 'aluminum' sheen, Shiron was now sitting on  
the small wyvern, inside a bigger neo-Concorde, and riding a wiggly tentacle as  
Shirou was enjoying the ride, but...  
"Could we..." Shirou began as the wiggles stopped. "What? Something wrong?"  
Samson said. "I want you. " Shirou emphasized, as Samson smiled.  
In a blink, Shirou was sucked through the replica, through the hull, secreted by a  
tendril to the palm of the wingarm as the giant plane-like beast smiled. "We gotta  
be quiet, the others are asleep." Samson said. Around the two were similar  
wyvern-like creatures, all bearing resemblance to Concorde planes.  
As Shirou pondered the sleeping beasts, in front of him appeared a thirty feet long,  
twelve inches thick dick, tapered to a tip; the same one that had inseminated his  
clutch. Shirou licked it as Samson's fiery belly full of lava lamp-like fluid bubbled  
and hummed ominously. Each breath Samson drew in increased his stores of fuel,  
as smoke merged with moisture into gel. Samson had swollen, yet not enough to  
sag.  
Above Shirou, the red, glowing liquid in Samson's belly, was Depeche upgrading  
Fire Deviants from simple phlogels of Amaranth, masters of smoke and fire, into  
masters of lava. The heat was intense and made Shirou cozy as he continued to find  
it easier and easier to take more and more of Samson into his mouth. Slowly,  
Shirou just gave in to shift along Samson's length.  
Sitting down, Samson watched how Shirou melted along his cock, like a condom.  
"Sh-Shirou...You don't...Ha-" Samson stuttered as he felt the pangolin scales flow  
against him like waves. Shirou was just where he wanted, around the plane,  
sucking the beast o????, like he had dreamt in privacy the moment he had learned of  
the existence of the wyvern-like liquid metal leviathans.  
A long whine emerged from the wyvern, as he squeezed Shirou full of glowing  
syrup. The syrup, incrementally, was absorbed by the smaller pangolin, from  
kerosene to matcha, a transmutation fitting alchemy. Shirou quietly moaned as  
Samson was gasping air, exhaling smoke that never floated o???? but lingered around  
the mouth of the concordern.  
Shirou felt bigger as he stood, being eight feet tall suddenly was a big surprise as he  
calmly solidified his pangolin scales back. "Sorry...Carried away." Shirou quietly  
said. Samson's cock still drooled excess kerosene as the small gel went to drink the  
excess. "It might taste bad." Samson struggled to say as the leviathan was spent,  
swallowing back ta????y-like smoke. "It tastes like power." Shirou casually said.  
The pangolin, growing like magic with Samson's ejaculate, caused Samson's  
refraction to just end as he felt ready to try something di????erent. The concordern  
pushed the pangolin to the ground and swelled where his slit was, to store syrup  
ready for a larger load. "Let's get you really big." Samson said as Shirou moaned in  
shy delight. The pangolin's vent fully welcomed the tip wiggling deeper and licking  
whatever textures Shirou wished to make. Samson's thrusts were slow, careful and  
warm as Shirou relaxed and let the plane mold him around to best suit the both of  
them. The wiggly thing coiled gently to push against Shirou's gel as Shirou felt his  
gel stretch around. The load of syrup from the concordern suddenly invaded Shirou  
as the pangolin felt himself grow a lot. He held back a moan, growing from eight  
feet to twenty.  
Samson collapsed backwards, quite shrunk down and not bothering to stop Shirou  
from climbing on his dick and coiling his pangolin tail around the shiny member.  
Slowly, Shirou used his body to continue pleasing his new friend as the two never  
finished their final round of mingling and instead fell asleep inside the purple  
siliglass hangar, spent from a day of fun.  
Chapter III.  
\*\*\*A month later\*\*\*  
A giant Concorde-shaped gel was carrying a payload from over the seas to a giant  
bowl-shaped bubble, to the coastal cli????s of Baja California. Inside waited a  
pangolin-wyvern with twelve small gelspring that tried to form words as they saw  
the Fire Deviant slow down into a VTOL landing just outside, onto a platform that  
handled the thousand degree thrusters with just slight charring. Samson was  
home. He unloaded the 23 tonnes of matcha from his cargohold by morphing away  
from the towering stack. It turns out that their o????spring were either kerosene or  
matcha. The gelspring with kerosene were quite larger than their mother even, but  
smarter too.  
"Drinks for the weirdos!" Clayham said as Shirou hushed the large gelspring.  
"No-one chooses what they are made of." She said. The matcha gelspring  
squirmed into the siliglass crates and began to merge into the fluids. Samson took  
steps into their "hangar", a round, aluminum sheen solid shelter, closed from the  
elements by a plate of hardened gel that could be slid along the floor. At the center  
was a soft mattress, weaved from the strange spinnerets Depeche gels could  
mimic, to make a soft bed and a few pillows. Shirou's tail had two mandibles,  
mimicking those of a spider, as gels could churn ta????y to form di????erent things.  
Inside would be dark without a few windows along the roof. The lava in the Fire  
Deviant gelspring also made orange light for when it was needed.  
Samson flopped on the bed as his gelspring did the same, the smaller matcha ones  
were a bit more helpless. After two weeks since birth, more mass meant faster  
development, Depeche hid away two lifetimes worth of inner models, concepts and  
understanding into a simple individualization process. Clayham, Moment and  
Pan-Am were well into their tween years if mentality was a measure. The three  
play wrestled at times, occasionally experimenting in shape as they did while often  
breaking away in discomfort, as instincts told gels to mingle.  
"You had one of those...things while I was gone." Samson queried. "Yeah, Moment  
tried to outmaneuver my coils and we kinda got entangled, it's where..." Pan-Am  
said. "He just had it out suddenly, super gay stu????." Moment said. "Hey, I told you  
not to put me in a lock!" Pan-Am said.  
"Now, Pan-Am...Moment, why would you ever want to make your brothers feel  
so?" Samson asked as Moment had a hard time answering. "Holy shit, Moment,  
you're messed up." Pan-Am said. "It's hard with this far from other gels..."  
Moment said, as Clayham gave him a shunt. "Just ask next time. I'm a bit pent up  
too." He said. Moment blushed. "I...Okay then."  
Samson still felt that nagging voice. Holy shit, your sons are fucking each other, scold  
them you moron .  
"I...You three know how I feel." Samson said as Clayham was already letting  
Moment closer. "We've gone over this, if it's okay...it's okay. Not like your anthro  
ethics help us unwind." Pan-Am said. "Yeah, we're all friends...we know what the  
previous gelspring gens went through, ready to fuck out of the body." Moment  
said.  
Samson had tried to debate them... But inbreeding was just no longer possible, all  
that was left was just remains of a taboo. A taboo which Clayham dismantled with a  
quick hungry kiss. "Gods..." Samson muttered. "It's not our fault we live in the  
middle of nowhere." Pan-Am muttered, wildly watching Moment and Clayham  
coiling together from their groins. Samson got up, watching Pan-Am join the two.  
"Let them be." Shirou said, nuzzling Samson's chest. "They know all we do of  
passion for others, they do not need to learn it." Shirou continued as Samson  
watched his gelspring experiment.  
"They were like yours just a week ago." Samson said. The small matcha wyrmlings  
were now inside the canisters, contently snoozing full of new gel. "Won't be long,  
they just need to grow bigger." Shirou said, walking to the largest canister and  
slurping in, letting her nanosilica merge into the fluid slowly.  
\*\*\*  
The two had separated the round, metal-sheen shelter into rooms too, one which  
was the bedroom. Shirou shared her mass through teats to Uni, the one runt that  
still hadn't gone to feed. "Wonder why they don't like matcha." Samson whispered.  
"Some wish to stay small. Haven't you wanted to remain young forever,  
Samson-kun?" Shirou asked. Samson sighed a long, warm breath to the neck of the  
pangolin wyvern. "I don't know about youth...but I'd remain forever with you." He  
said.  
The waves crashing against the cli????s of Baja California drowned away low,  
animal-like roars of the three brothers turned sisters turned others trying  
themselves, the eight tiny balls of matcha sleeping in a pile on a "dog bed" and the  
quiet giggles of a pilot and a passenger, realizing their loves. The concordern, ten  
million liters big and over ten pools in volume, towered Shirou's thirty thousand  
liters still, as the liquid metal-like wyvern-concorde continued to swell up the  
matcha pangolin bigger with their next clutch.

Source: https://sofurry.com/s/keNwqD3m