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1. Nematious - Rimming

Nem stretched out where he lay, the small fox's arms reaching out in front of him, every muscle in his body tight and shivering with the sweet relief of the stretch. The slow shift of sunlight through the trees overhead had the dual effect of warming him to peak coziness along with nudging him gently awake: he sniffed at the air, reached up to wipe the drool from his mouth, and then rolled over onto his belly, now resting his chin on his arms to avoid the sharpest of the light. As soon as he did so the beams shifted and swirled atop him, the dancing wind causing the trees overhead to sway.

I can nap for a little longer, he thought to himself, eyes fluttering shut again. I don't have anything to do today. Nice to just be out here in the open, calm, relaxed... warm enough that I really don't need anything other than my underwear, and-

And another puff of wind curled its way around him, this one much lower, much closer to the ground. The fox's ears flicked and his eyes stirred, but in another moment the sensation was forgotten and he felt himself drifting off again... until that breeze began again near the bared base of his tail, tickling at his sensitive fur, puffing out across his lower back. What an odd sensation, he thought, but not enough to do anything about it, so he shifted how he lay, spread his legs apart a little bit further, and closed his eyes again.

Then another puff, and another - and right as Nem realized that that felt more like breath than wind, he discovered that he had also been caught. Gently, carefully, a huge forepaw pressed down between his shoulder blades to keep him pinned to the ground, pushing with just enough force to keep him from rising up: his heart leapt in his chest, his ears flicked upright, his tail jerked in irritation and shock. The source of the wind, the breath, nudged down against the base of his tail, puffed hot, steamy humidity down between his legs and along the back of his sack for now still hidden beneath the soft fabric of his underwear - until it wasn't. The creature's other forepaw drew forward, one careful claw catching the waistband of Nem's covering and drawing it down.

"Hey-" The fox managed to wriggle himself up onto his elbows and look back behind himself, then promptly wished he hadn't. Sharp brown eyes glistened back down at him in a muzzle halfway between lupine and draconic, the beast investigating his interest much larger than himself: it flicked his tongue out across its chops, let another hungry breath out across the relatively smaller fox's lower back, and now scooped its nose up underneath his tail. "I - oh - whoa, you-"

Then another outward puff of breath, simmering underneath his tail, flooding down across the back of his sack, curling up the base of his tail, making him jump and blush. He had expected a chill from that nose, but instead the warm, wet bumpy leather of the surface pressed in against him, lifted up, poked down, made him squirm all over again; the beast nuzzled up from beneath his tail, parted its lips in a slow, simmering sigh, then dove down once more, this time resting its nose in place atop his rump.

Nem swallowed, bit his lip, and spread his legs a little bit further. The huge feral nuzzled down closer, sniffed at him again, swallowed, then parted its lips - Nem braced himself, unsure what to expect - and finally folded its tongue out across him. This was something that Nem had received countless times before, but always from partners his own size: the wolf-dragon's much larger, much broader, much stronger tongue scooped up across the back of his hanging sack, tugging the skin gently up as it went, and coursed across the rim of his tailhole, warm wetness smearing across tender, sensitive wrinkles of skin, pushing against the central pucker, drawing up further.

The fox gasped and shivered, reflexively tightening back around the touch only to then receive again, this time faster. The beast began right at the rim this time, tapered tip of its tongue poking forward, pressing against the natural resistance of his muscle, and then drawing up - then again - and again - and again, each time from a slightly different angle and starting point, now from the center and out, now coming down from just beneath his tail, now dragging straight from side to side.

Each time the wolf-dragon lapped across his bared tailhole again Nem felt himself tighten up, then relax once more. Warm sizzled out through his body, the familiar flame of arousal growing deep within his abdomen; he clenched his paws into fists, sucked his lower lip between his teeth, bit down on it each time the beast's tongue flopped out underneath his tail and drew up across him again, a great, powerful muscle squeezing in against him, teasing at part his rim, drawing across, dragging over. He both heard and felt the large feral swallow, then nuzzle down into place again with that big nose pushing into the space between his tail and his rump; huge, saliva-slickened lips pursed forward and quite easily encompassed the entirety of his tailhole.

Ears flicking back, eyes fluttering in smooth delight, mouth coming open, Nem lifted himself up and back against that huge maw, welcoming the slight tug and grip of the beast beginning to gently suckle at him. Again and again that tongue came out between the lips pursed in place, poking forward, swirling around his sensitive rim, teasing at pressing into him when both likely knew the futility of such a move, but still he could enjoy the sensation, the pressure, the thought. Thick, feral saliva dribbled down the back of his sack and between his thighs, the fox having lifted himself enough to let his half-arousal twitch in the air between himself and the ground; he stirred, shifted, and tried to signal to the creature his desire to roll over.

Finally the paw still halfway on his back relented, as did the muzzle between his rump. Nem breathed out a combined sigh of relief and anticipation, flipped himself over, then had to focus to still his instinctive response upon seeing such a huge and very clearly hungry predator looming over him, the wolf-dragon's maw slavering, tongue hanging out, eyes focused between the smaller fox's legs. He swallowed, took in a breath, then lifted himself up again - and tilted his head back as the beast's muzzle came in again, hot breath washing across his shaft, his sack, lower.

Another shudder racked Nem's body. This is much better than a nap...

2. CJTheOtter - Rimming

Lukas gave his mouth a quick wipe and then returned his paw to the luxurious meal spread out before him, the stallion's legs spread where he had bent over the arm of the couch. The TV in front of them played some movie or show or something - the remote had long since gotten lost amid the party, and the screen had flashed through so many different things - while music played in the background, barely enough to cover the constant low rumble of several different conversations and the breathless, rhythmic panting, moaning, thumping of slightly more intimate events going on throughout the house.

On his way over here the otter had passed a pair of African wild dogs pressed up against the entryway hall, one of them bouncing urgently in her companion's straining arms as he held her up against himself; then he had passed by the bathroom with a quick peek in, seeing a coyote kneeling in the tub with some three others of the partygoers draining their bladders across, over, and into his eager muzzle; then he could have sworn he saw the remote to a vibrator being passed around in the other room... and then he had come in here just in time to see another smaller, stouter, more _otter-_sized and shaped otter just finishing up with his muzzle beneath this equine's prepared tail, drawing his muzzle free from around the bulging, rounded donut-muscle.

And so Lukas hadn't been able to resist. The stallion was obviously halfway to heaven, his head resting on one arm, his eyes half-lidded and unfocused, his mouth hanging open; he likely didn't even notice the change in diner behind him once the other otter hopped down from the couch and disappeared into the crowd, Lukas watching him for a moment to notice that he was at perfect access height for those others in the party who had already doffed the lower half of their attire.

Lukas was one of these, of course. He had gone through the effort of doing so while setting in here behind the horse's conveniently raised tail, one paw reaching forward to squeeze and squish at that protruding flesh already slick with someone else's saliva, the ring of muscle plopping easily open at the slightest touch; the other otter really had done some good work here, it seemed. Just now Lukas settled back down along the cushions with his own legs forward, leaning in sideways so that he could nuzzle and lick, picking up where the other one had left off, while his other paw dropped down between his legs to indulge in his own enjoyment.

Warm, wet slickness gathered all around the wrinkles and smooth, velvet-leathery softness of the stallion's pucker, the muscle underneath tensing up at his touch and then relaxing again. He couldn't help but smirk, thinking of silly ideas from when he was younger - not wanting to drink from the same straw as his friend on a trip to the amusement park, when here he was curling his tail right up underneath, around, and into the slightly-stretched tailhole of some stranger with whom he had never exchanged a single word, immediately after another stranger had just left enough spit dripping between his wrinkles that Lukas had to slurp and suck first before he could begin his own work. He swallowed down the other otter's drool, felt the warm slickness dribble across his tongue and down his throat, then leaned in, pursing his lips against the larger shape of the horse's rim...

...and jumped as a damp, semi-firm presence lifted up underneath his balls hanging off the edge of the couch. The surprise quickly melded to satisfaction as he imagined some other stranger seeing the invitation and lining up to push into him; he shifted accordingly, lifted one leg, stretched it out, pushed his rump closer to the edge... and then felt a puff of hot breath wash out across his own pucker, coaxing it into twitching and clenching together. A muzzle, then; that was just as well. He swallowed, spread his lips around the horse's tailhole, drew the protruding donut into his mouth, suckled softly at the thick, slick skin there, then turned his head just enough to see who his surprise visitor was.

It was, of course, the other otter he had just seen, bottom-heavy with the stout stature and the thick rudder dragging on the ground behind him. Warm eyes glittered up at him, Lukas's balls spread across his thick snout; he nuzzled up in between the larger otter's legs, pressed his lips to smooth, soft tailhole, then flicked his tongue out, and did so again, and again. Lukas couldn't help but shiver at the feeling, sensitive nerves tingling with the gentle tease and touch: this other otter was so, so soft with his tongue, feeling as though he were deliberately following along the lines of puckered wrinkles out towards the rim, then circling back in to the center. There came the slightest of suckling, drawing him to relax further, then a swirl around the exterior slowly coming in, poking at the middle, pressing in... for a moment Lukas forgot about the other tailhole filling his maw, his lips pursed out with the size of the horse's, and he popped himself free just to get another deeper breath.

He licked his lips and swallowed, still able to taste mostly just this other otter's saliva, and lifted his leg up a bit. His balls shifted along the smaller male's nose, resting warmly across smooth fur; smaller paws pressed into his inner thighs, lifting him up a little bit, spreading him further, and he reciprocated by scooting down again and pushing himself more freely against the other otter's mouth, pushing his tailhole into the sweet, deep kiss, puckered rim to pursed lips. As the other's tongue slipped up and gradually poked its way past his ring of muscle, Lukas turned once again to resume attending to the stallion, making the same moves that he felt spread across himself: lips to rim, another gentle suckle, tongue spreading out and then tightening in, pressing through, curling up, tugging out at the muscle from inside. He clenched and felt the other otter swallow, then push his lips forward with a distinct warm wetness dribbling down towards the base of his own rudder; then that broad tongue flicked out again to lap up his drool, coursing smoothly across his tailhole again.

Messy eater, he thought, then shivered and sighed, burying his muzzle under the horse's tail once more. I'll finish up here and then show him how I like to do it...

3. Vignette - Incest

The striped hyena's claws dug into his bedsheets where he sat bolt upright, ears perked, jaw clenched, eyes wide - and erection twitching fully, uncontrollably hard. Each time he inhaled it just seemed to get worse, this slight scent, this intoxicating aroma swelling into his nostrils and filling his lungs: it was everywhere at the same time, from the air wafting down from the vents to the sheets themselves, and something about it just drove him wild. And it wasn't the kind of wild like when Vignette visited his favorite burger joint downtown, or when he had a few too many drinks while relaxing back at home with some of friends.

This was a different kind of wild, a downright erosion of his base thoughts and inhibitions: he had woken up some ten minutes ago but still hadn't moved from this spot, the soft sheet _of his mother's guest room_soaked through at the end where it draped over the hard tip of his shaft, his own musk twirling and mixing with this unidentifiable richness all around him. Every nerve seemed to focus back down into that arousal, and the reason he kept his claws on the sheets here was since he felt like as soon as he drew them away he might be unable to resist taking care of this urge, and ruining these nice sheets. He was only here for two days, after all; his mother would know.

But the clock was ticking. For his visit up this weekend they had agreed to go check out the new mall down by the high school, and the threshold was fast approaching for when traffic would be too much to bother. So the striped hyena took in another slow breath, regretted it instantly for the way it made him throb and shiver - I feel like I might be able to cum handsfree just by smelling this, he thought, not for the first time - and then carefully turned to swing himself out of the bed. Sparkles danced in his eyes, his loins, and the back of his throat in his struggles to get dressed, and after nearly doubling over with the sensation of trying to zip up his pants fly around his arousal, he gave up and opted for sweatpants with no underwear instead. This took a bit of finagling, and even with one paw in his pocket he thought that things were still a little bit too obvious, but it would have to do.

Nervously he shuffled towards the door, feeling as though he were on a ship pitching back and forth across the ocean. Once there he paused, caught his breath, felt whatever was happening to him bounce back and forth again, then with a slightly sweaty paw turned the knob and stepped out into the hall - where the scent strengthened further. It reminded him of his own musk, yet sharper, higher, a little bit drier; he tilted his nose to follow it as he walked towards his mother's bedroom, the door slightly ajar. Each sniff just made him twitch and throb all over again, and as he turned he brushed against himself and felt another loose spray of pre jet out across his inner thigh.

"Mom?" he called, voice low in the hallway. Vignette reached out to tap at the door, but thought he heard something and paused: from inside her bedroom came an arrhythmic rustling, accompanied by what sounded like... "Is everything alright?"

"-Vignette?" she replied a moment later, out of breath. "You're awake now? I don't - would you-"

He paused, tall ears forward. It was so, so hard not to reach down into his sweatpants and give himself a few strokes; why the hell would I even think about doing that? he thought. Right outside my mom's fucking bedroom? What's wrong with me? "Should I, uh... come in?"

"Yes! N - wait, no, don't... yes, you... ah... yes. Yes. Come inside. Now."

Something in her voice set his heart pounding. He pressed his palm against the door and swung it open, stepping inside - and immediately his senses fired back in against him, his nose burning with the strength of the scent that aroused him so much, his eyes watering with a latent simmering heat, his ears flicking back and forth towards the sound of his mother's panting, surprisingly so close to him.

Suddenly she was against him, drawing him into a morning embrace, but - Vignette noticed with a shock that she was completely naked. He looked down across his mother's body, over the same mocha fur with chocolate stripes that he bore, her form soft, heavy with maturity, slightly rounded with experience. Hefty breasts pushed against his chest, her breath hot and heavy in the crook of his neck; he shivered and squirmed, half of him uncomfortable and the other half deeply, thoroughly aroused.

"Vignette," she rumbled, her words tickling across his neck. "My - ah - heat meds ran out..."

He swallowed, his brain skipping like a record player, a shorted circuit. "Heat - meds?"

"Yeah. Yeah, they..." One of his mother's paw pushed against his side, then slid up across his bare belly and chest. The sensation made him shiver; the knowledge that this was his mother made him gasp and squirm again. She squeezed at his chest, then reversed the movement and dropped it back down towards his waist. "Make it manageable. Keep it down. Y'know? So I can - ah - function in regular society, and-"

He couldn't help it. His body acted on its own: he grinded his hips forward against hers, nerves tingling with her nudity on him. Her paw continued down across the waistband of his sweatpants, traced the outline of his twitching hard cock, squeezed around it, gave a stroke. Both hyenas gasped.

"You - still go into heat, Mom-?"

For a moment her eyes narrowed. "I'm not that old. And I'm still - very, very capable. I - hah..."

Then as suddenly as she had wrapped around him, Vignette's mother peeled herself away - and dropped to her knees, taking his sweatpants with her. His arousal bounced out atop her muzzle, flinging another rope of clear pre across her fur. Her nostrils flared with drawing in his scent; she blinked, licked her lips, blinked again, swallowed.

"I can show you," she went on. Her nose came forward and brushed against his sack; he let out a shuddering sigh, and once more couldn't resist pushing forward against her. This is so wrong, he thought, but at the same time it's - but I... want... "I can prove it."

Vignette swallowed again. This same muzzle that he had looked upon so many times throughout growing up now stared up at him, eyes wide in anticipation, hungry maw open; his mother nuzzled up underneath his hard shaft, smearing him against her fur, pulling his scent in as though she needed it to breathe.

And he nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. I need it as much as you do."

4. Faolanwolfsavor - Incest

The cool mountain breeze brushed down through Kage's fur as he walked, the feral wolf striding tall and proud across the land that was now his. The ceremony had resolved first thing in the morning before the sun's rise, and by now his mind and body had both long since banished the weighty drag of anxious sleep; he lifted his head, lapped at his chops, tasted the fresh, rich air, and looked back down across the trail, reminding himself again that all of this is mine. Even...

Even the older feral who followed after him, fur bearing much the same patterns and markings lightened somewhat with age. This older wolf had been responsible for Kage's rise and ascension and, in fact, his birth in the first place: just this morning he had announced his resignation as the jarl of the wolves' Southern Sword tribe, with Kage taking his place. So now, both physically along the mountain trail as well as hierarchically within the tribe, Kage stood above his father.

He looked down at him, tail wagging, and tossed his head. "Come on, old dog. Almost there. Not giving up so soon after leaving your position, are you?"

Bandit gave him a bright smirk and bustled to catch up, quick enough that he even brushed against his son and knocked him slightly off-balance. "You're still a yipping whelp," the older wolf rumbled, pressing his broad snout into Kage's shoulder. "I simply thought the responsibility of rule would help you find your place..."

Kage chuckled, returning the forceful affection - then felt himself knocked off-balance further, his paws skittering from underneath him, until the loose gravel and ground simply went. He caught himself on his side with an oof, tried to pull himself up, and then instead rolled over on his back to look straight up into his father's aged muzzle over him.

"You still have a lot to learn," Bandit went on. His broad pink tongue flicked out across his chops, showing deadly yellow fangs within his maw. "Don't think it'll be so easy, son."

Kage folded his forepaws before his chest, resisting the urge to deferentially show his throat. He swallowed, challenging his father by holding his eye contact.

Bandit slowly turned his head downwards. "...But I _am_proud of you," he went on, and leaned in for another playful nuzzle at the neck. Kage couldn't help but laugh out loud, hindlegs kicking, one rear paw gently catching along Bandit's and making him lose his balance as well; the older wolf stumbled and came down on top of him, pushing the breath out of both of them-

-and pressing plump sheath to plump sheath, balls against balls. Kage immediately shivered with the humid heat oozing out across his loins, his father's still superior size and heat pushing up against his own; apparently feeling his son's sudden change in thought, the older feral grinned and gave a little thrust, then again, and again. Kage tilted his head to look down between them: coarse yet soft black fur brushing up against smooth charcoal grey, the thick, hefty weight of his father's sheath nestled alongside his own, supple skin pressing in, tugging in place, drawing wetly forward and back with each slow grind. Kage squirmed and lifted up, coaxing the tapered tip of his shaft to rub out between them.

He took in a breath, shuddered, and relaxed underneath the other wolf. "Father..."

"What?" Bandit tilted his head again, deliberately grinding his own sheath down along Kage's, pressing warm firmness in against his growing arousal, drawing it out further. "Now that you're jarl, it's up to you to start making bold moves and decisions. You'll have so many eyes watching you, looking to you for guidance..."

Here the older wolf smirked, thrust again, and then stepped off of his son. Kage remained where he lay and then scrambled to stand up, sheath pulsing underneath him, balls tugging up towards his body in anticipation of what might soon come - and when he looked forward he saw the invitation right there in front of him, his father's back turned to him, tail flagged, warm pink pucker twitching, pulsing above his own sack. His balls jiggled side to side as he spread his hindlegs further, lowering himself down for his son.

"...eager to see what it is you'll do, when presented with a difficult situation." Bandit gave a little swish of his tail. "Your move, jarl."

Kage stared for a moment, heart thumping, and then moved with desire and purpose. He stepped forward to his father's backside, ran his nose underneath the base of that hiked tail, then flicked his tongue out across the bared pucker, feeling the way it flexed and tightened in response. There he focused for a moment, drawing his tongue back and forth across overlapping wrinkles, smearing his saliva over the tight rim, pressing just barely inside - and then without another thought he stepped forward and mounted the previous jarl, his father.

His body moved nearly on its own, hips thrusting, balls swinging, sheath slipping forward and back along his shaft as hormones and desire fanned his arousal into a burning flame. Sweet, delicious wet heat kissed against the end of his tip, then slid down and around him... and Bandit shivered and sighed underneath as his son sank into him, pressing a little bit further with each eager, hungry thrust. Before he knew it Kage's eyes had fluttered shut and his mouth had fallen open, forepaws grasping around Bandit's haunches, muzzle pushing against his shoulder from the side; he swallowed, grunted, and pressed forward deeper with each thrust, that delicious warmth squeezing and sucking around him, his balls swinging forward and bumping against his father's.

The tension, the tightness, the heat, the scent of his musk and Bandit's so similar to his own wafting up around him... Kage gritted his teeth, pulled in another breath, grunted, pushed himself forward - and felt his knot swelling out against the older wolf's tailhole, pressing in against the ring of muscle as his father clenched back around him. A few more small thrusts and then the fire inside of him exploded, sending sharp waves of rich pleasure bouncing through his body, vibrating in his loins, spurting out deep inside of the other male, again and again and again; Bandit underneath him rumbled and sighed, tail wagging, hips still working around his son, until within seconds he, too, gasped, bucked, and jerked. Kage's ears perked at the sound of thick liquid spurts emptying out across the ground underneath them, muted only slightly by their shared panting.

After a while Bandit lifted and turned his head. "Yes," he went on, "you'll do just fine. But - maybe try the knot next time, mm?"

5. Diseenith - Incest

"Vel, I - really have to focus on this so I can-"

"So focus. Don't pay attention to me. Don't mind me." Vel looked up from where he knelt between his twin's legs, the kobold's ember-red eyes glittering in sharp contrast to the silver and ebony of his scales. Hot breath puffed out from flared nostrils, right across Ivan's sensitive thighs bared beneath his lifted robe, and his even more sensitive sack hanging down across the front of the chair where he sat at the desk. "I've already got everything I want, right here."

"Well - yes, but-"

Ivan sucked in another shuddering gasp as his brother sniffed at him again, the slightly sharper angle of his brother's snout lifting up in between and underneath his sack, dragging the soft, leathery skin and firm weight across himself, then continued up towards his sheath as well. Inheriting the vampiric touch within their shared bloodline meant that Vel here between his legs had a much, much sharper sense for certain appetites not necessarily absent in Ivan himself, but just... pushed to the background.

The lighter, cloud-white kobold stirred and shifted again, legs lifting up over his brother's shoulders as Vel nuzzled up alongside his sheath. Ivan couldn't deny that it still felt good, and that Vel's attentions began to stir and draw that same desire out in himself that had been buried for the better part of a week, but still he knew that he had to focus on his books. The last peddler who had come through town brought some rare finds from a recently discovered ruin near the capital just for him, and he had been hard at work plying his knowledge of the old language to translate and transcribe the tomes, and already he had started on adapting a rather intuitive formula found within the second chapter, and-

And Vel's maw parted open to dump another puff of heavy, hungry, damp breath out across Ivan's sheath and revealed tip already stirring from within. Long, careful tongue slid out, circled around him, sank into the sensitive skin there to cup around his buried length and coax it out further, while his brother massaged at his balls with another hand; the cool touch of his scales chilled even further by his slightly different blood sent a legitimate chill up the other's back, with his tail flicking out to the side and knocking over another stack of books behind him.

It had been about a week, Ivan thought; the sensations thrumming through his body, easily pressing out from within his sheath and across Vel's tongue, up against the roof of his mouth, into the back of his throat as the dark-scaled kobold began bobbing his head in rhythm, reminded him of the truth of this. And naturally Vel had been the last one to bring this out of him. Ivan sighed and rested his head across the back of the chair, eyes fluttering shut, hips gently lifting up against his brother's rhythm: it had been in the carriage on their way back from the city, Vel with his hood drawn up over his head - and carefully arranged around his sharp, back-facing horns - so he could attend to his brother to help pass the time... though, really, Ivan thought, rolling his muzzle forward to watch the same thing happening now, it was more for himself than for me. We both know that. Not that I really mind, I guess. It's just - I wish he would...

_ _

As though sensing his thoughts, and likely he _had,_bright crimson eyes flashed up at him again. Vel gave a sly, sharp-toothed small, fangs poking out from underneath his lip as he continued to bob in place, then drew up and back, swirled his tongue around his brother's now fully-hard shaft again, and swallowed. Ivan returned his smile, trying to hide the better part of his exasperation and impatience for getting back to work. As long as Vel entertained himself there, he really didn't mind; Ivan sat up and leaned forward, shifting again to let his brother once more nose down his sheath and to his sack, where he parted his lips, sucked one and then both balls into his mouth, slurped and suckled and swallowed around them, then let them free, and - across his inner thigh a sudden vivid, sharp flare of sensation, stinging pain and swelling heat.

Ivan gasped and cursed, the chair clattering underneath him, but Vel's weight held him down. He threw his robe aside and glared down at the vampiric kobold so casually indulging his other thirst, muzzle clamped around the tender, sensitive, productive vein of Ivan's upper thigh, cheeks rhythmically swelling and then flattening as he tasted deeply of his brother's lifeblood. The suction shivered up throughout Ivan's abdomen and tingled at all of his nerves; right as he reached down to yank Vel off, the other kobold pulled free with a pop - and two sets of pinprick fang-marks dribbling crimson - but then swiftly rose to his feet, placed a foot dangerously close between his brother's legs, and scooted his chair back with a kick.

"Enough study," Vel growled, hands already working at the fastenings of his own pants. A second later they fell to the floor with a rustle and brought into view his own twitching arousal, sleek, hefty, uncut, with supple foreskin drawn partially back due to his eagerness. "You need a break. You're overambitious."

"Vel, if you would just - ah - let me..."

Ivan reached down to rub at his oozing thigh, only for Vel to seize his wrist, hoist it up over his head, and then straddle his lap, causing the chair to creak underneath their combined weight. Feral hunger glowed behind those red eyes and fresh blood, his blood, dribbled from his lips as Vel's tongue flicked out across his chops. His other hand pressed in at Ivan's unmarred thigh to lift himself up, then reached back across his rump; fingers brushed across his draconic cock, tilted it up and back, and finally poked and prodded it at Vel's tailhole, the plush, plump flesh of his protruding donut-like rim nudging tantalizingly at his saliva-slickened flesh.

Back and forth the black kobold slid, rubbing his brother's tip across and smearing himself in his own saliva, the lips of his tailhole squeezing across the side of Ivan's shaft. With a hungry growl, then, Vel braced his hands on Ivan's shoulders, lifted up, angled Ivan's tip up in the center of his pucker... and then began to press down on him.

Hot breath puffed out across Ivan's snout, breath smelling of his own musk and blood. Deft, tight muscles and slick, succulent meat squeezed all around him, then squeezed again as Vel deliberately clenched, pushed, clenched again, pushed again on his way down. Tension rippled across his muzzle, lips drawing back to show gritted fangs, his desire warring with his actual bodily limits against Ivan's admittedly impressive size.

Gently Ivan rested a hand along his brother's waist - only for Vel to reach down and redirect it to his shaft instead, forefinger right along the rim of sensitive skin. Ivan rubbed there.

"And you're calling me overambitious..."

Sharp red eyes glared at him again. Ivan flushed with embarrassment, then shuddered again as his brother sank another half-inch down onto him.