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Sunday 10th February, 2026 "Dragons are basically the coolest animal ever," Alex said. Beside him, Lily let out a single bark of laughter. "I'm serious," he continued. "No other fictional animal has had so much influence - they've been in stories since we've been able to tell them." The two approached the counter of the small coffee shop. Instead of a barista, a couple of oven-sized boxy machines sat on the counter. A flat screen displayed the list of available drinks, and an electronic voice (only slightly robotic-sounding) asked for their order. "Two large black coffees, one sugar each," Alex said to the machine, and to Lily: "So, in the early 2020's, once Goddard Genetics started to create dragons, people jumped at the opportunity to actually own one. Now that Goddard has a monopoly on this huge industry, they keep the prices high, and it's made them hugely successful. Since only the wealthy can afford them, dragons have become a status symbol for the rich." The machine tallied up their order and displayed the price. Without looking at the screen, Alex swiped his wrist over it. His phone, attached to his wrist, automatically deducted the amount from his chequing account and their drinks were dispensed from the second machine. He passed her her drink first. "Not that I'm complaining. I think what they've done is incredible. It's just interesting to see how much of our perception of dragons have changed. They used to be symbols of power or wisdom, or if they were evil, they'd represent a struggle, something a hero would have to overcome." They took their drinks and leaned against the railings that bordered the SeaWall. In the bay ahead of them, sailing ships floated by, like lazy cows grazing on a field. The glimmering silver of the city stood behind them, and behind that, white-capped mountains stood over them like protective parents. He sipped his coffee. It was pleasantly bitter with a hint of sweetness, the way he liked it. "Now they don't represent anything more than a Rolex or a Mercedes." "Yeah, but it's not really the same thing is it?" Lily asked. "Technically they're not even real dragons." "They're whatever Goddard says they are," he said simply. "They're the ones with the copyright. Anyone can splice avian and reptile DNA together and make an animal, but only Goddard can call it a dragon, and they're so far ahead of the competition nobody else even tries" "A copyright is one thing, but if you ask me, a dragon with only two legs is a wyvern." She barely hid the smile she had, knowing this was one topic she could use to rile him up. Alex didn't take the bait. He shrugged and made a 'you can't blame me' face. "Hey, I just work there. I'm not in charge of naming them." He took another sip of his coffee and quickly said, "But humans invented them so we can call them whatever we want." She smiled, knowing she was getting to him. "Why don't they have six limbs, anyway? Like four legs and wings?" He leaned over, eager to share the knowledge he had gained. "It's because nature has never created a vertebrate with six limbs. It appears to be a law, or something that's just biologically impossible, you just never find it in nature. When Goddard tried, the animals were deformed, with legs growing out of their backs. None of them survived. It seems all we can do is use the tools nature gave us. Besides, legs are heavy. It's tough enough making the skeletons strong enough to support the animal's weight, yet light enough to let them fly. The earliest models had problems with limbs breaking, and even with newer models, their wings are very fragile when they're young, and they're hard to take care of. But that's just what I heard from the designers. I don't actually design them." "I know. What do you do there?" "I'm still the newest employee, so I do whatever they tell me. Sometimes it's getting people drinks, or taking out the trash. I take the dragons out for walks and stuff. I get along with them pretty well." She looked out over the water and said, "Alex Chapman: Dragon Whisperer." He tried not to blush, and set his face to hide his smile. He had written that exact title on his identity card when he had started. "Have you ever thought about getting one?" she asked. He shook his head. "I mean, I've thought about it, but not seriously. They're a bit beyond my pay. Fifty thousand at least. Custom models go for more than a million." "Custom models?" "Yeah," he said. "You can specify the size and personality of each one to match your needs, like if you want one that's good with people, like as a companion. Most people have them made with special colours or patterns on their scales. Even though they're all born with feathers that hide that, and you only get to see their scales once they reach maturity and moult. It's like unwrapping a present." Lily's eyes were were far away, distant. Alex knew her well enough to know she wasn't ignoring him, just deep in thought. Her brow furrowed and her nose crinkled, a gesture he always thought was adorable. She sipped her coffee. "I want a red one. With... tiger stripes. One big enough I can ride." "None of them are big enough to ride. But I'll do my best," he said. She looked at him sideways. "Just take one when nobody's looking." "Alright," he said, humouring her. "Thanks, Alexander." She put her hand on his bare arm. Goosebumps ran up his arm that had nothing to do with the cold air. His mind went blank. "You know, my name's not actually Alexander. It's short for Alexius." "Really? I didn't know that." "I don't tell a lot of people because I hate that name, so don't say anything." She smiled at him. "I won't." Lily popped the lid off her cup and blew on it. Steam rose and caressed her face with its delicate tendrils. _ "Oh, that I were that steam from that cup That I might touch that cheek!"_ Alex thought. He had never worked up the courage to ask her out. They had know each other since high school but at this point, they were still 'just friends'. Since then he had had various girlfriends but none were as close to him as Lily was. Alex stirred his coffee with the plastic coffee-stirring thing and remembered it was already mixed when it came out of the machine. He snuck a glance at his friend. A salty coastal breeze, fresh and clean-smelling, blew her black hair across her eyes and she shook her head, freeing it. She looked behind them and Alex could see the thin smile spread across her pretty lips. "What do you think she's getting?" "Who?" "The chunky monkey at the counter." Lily motioned to a massively obese woman at the counter of the coffee stand they had just left. Alex had to stifle laughter to hear what the woman was ordering. "A large white-chocolate frappuccino with marshmallow cream!" she practically yelled at the screen. "At that point, it's not even coffee," Lily said to him. "You might as well eat a bowl of ice cream." He activated his phone and asked it, "Okay, Des, how many calories in a large white-chocolate frappuccino with marshmallow cream?" The device, which he had named Des, short for Desdemona from Shakespeare's Othello, answered after a pause. "Eight hundred and fifty-five calories, with sixteen grams of fat and eighty grams of sugar." The woman who ordered the creamy monstrosity of a drink was talking on her phone. "No, I'm just getting a coffee!" And actually said "El-oh-el" out loud. Alex saw Lily roll her eyes. "I can't believe people still say that," she said. Alex looked back over the water. A family of swans paddled past them. A beautiful white one in the lead, probably the mother, with a half-dozen little chicks trailing behind her. They were still young little balls of grey fluff with a short black nub of a beak. The mother flapped her wings, shaking a few droplets of water off. She curved her graceful neck back and picked a feather off her wing, letting it tumble away in the breeze. Maybe it was a he. Alex thought they always looked feminine. "What do they represent to you?" Alex looked up. "What?" "Dragons. If they don't represent power or adversity, what do they represent to you, now?" He looked out over the water and thought about his first day at Goddard, when he got to see the dragons for the first time. "Beauty," he said simply. "Not physically, but in the way a machine can be beautiful. Dragons didn't evolve, they were built. Every gene is there because a person put it there. It's a machine that works perfectly." Lily nodded thoughtfully, biting her lower lip. Together they watched the boats float by.

Monday, 11th February, 2026

Alex read the page stuck to his clipboard and sighed, dreading what he had to do. His employers had told him he would never have to do this, but this wasn't the first time they had lied to him, and it wouldn't be the last. The page read:

Unit: AL/CA-02-0064-C Birth Date: January 16, 2026 Weight: 3200 g Status: defective Scheduled for immediate disposal. Name:

He covered the name with his thumb. All the products they made were given randomized named based on gender. Knowing this one's name would give it a personality, and in his mind, turn it from a product into a being. It would only make the task which lay ahead harder. The date showed this particular specimen was only three weeks old. He frowned, looking at the little thing that lay asleep on its bed of paper towels. A little dragon, covered in grey feathers and curled up into a ball a foot across. The sides of its chest swelled and compressed as it breathed. It looked fine to Alex, but "defects" could be hidden. The product number AL/CA-02-0064-C meant albatross base, with chinese alligator genes. Second generation, 64th unit, custom order. In layman's terms, it would have grown to be human-sized, friendly, and must have been very, very expensive. He unlocked the cage and the dragon stirred. It lifted its head and looked at him with bright, intelligent eyes. "Chhrrrr?" It asked. Alex sighed and tried not to think about it. This wasn't normally his job, and it was by far the worst. But as the newest employee of Goddard Genetics, he was expected to do the jobs nobody else wanted to. He recalled the conversation he had with his supervisor earlier. _ "The Unit is defective. Use the standard disposal method," Mr. Ferris had said. "That's not part of my job," Alex complained. "Isn't Dan supposed to--" "Dan quit. Some bullshit about stress-related whatever." He waved his hand vaguely. "I don't really feel comfortable--" "Nobody wants to do it. But if you want to get anywhere in this company, you have to do what needs to be done. All of us do. Unit A-L-C-A.." He glanced down at the clipboard "zero-two, zero-zero-six-four C... (he spoke the last letter with special intonation) ...was a custom order, and we're not going to ship a defective unit. We're going to lose a lot of money on this one either way._ Mr. Ferris spoke of the animals as if they were objects. But he spoke of his employees in the same way. Maybe that was why he got so far in the company.

The dragon watched Alex. There was no visible crest, so this one was female. She stood up, using her wings as forelegs to support her upper body. She stumbled and stood awkwardly up. The right wing didn't bend properly, and jutted out at an awkward angle. That must be the defect Alex thought. It'd be a shame to waste the entire animal on one flaw. But that wasn't his decision. Goddard prided itself on its perfection. Alex unceremoniously stuck the muzzle on her, tied her wings down with clips, and picked her up. The dragon couldn't chirp with the muzzle on, but she hummed, in a way that sounded almost cheery. Who knows how long she had spent in that plastic box, this might be the first human contact she'd had in a while. Maybe ever. And, Alex thought grimly, it would be the last. Carrying her, he took her from the nursery and walked down the white hallway to the incinerator room. He approached the washing-machine sized device which stood in the corner. It was a dull grey machine of steel, a transparent window and a few buttons. He opened it and pushed her inside, taking the muzzle and wing clips off her at the same time. She stepped delicately over the floor, grimy with ash and chunks of charred matter. There was black ash streaked across the floor and walls, some got on her feathers and stuck there. She stood in the center, looking confused. She bumped her snout against the grimy window, looking at him. Through the glass, he could hear her whine in protest that sounded very human. He looked away from the dragon, to the control panel next to the window. The START button would begin the cycle, releasing anesthetic into the chamber, then a blast of propane-fueled fire to incinerate the body. All one had to do was load the animal in, start the machine, and in fifteen minutes, unload the ashes. Beneath the yellow START button was a green button that said PURGE. This would suck the aesthetic from the box and replace it with regular air. The OPEN switch glowed faintly. A peeling sticker next to it, DO NOT OPEN DOOR UNTIL PURGE LIGHT IS LIT. Why does it have to be see-through? _ He asked himself. But he knew why. To make sure the flames had taken care of everything before unloading the ashes. He held his finger on the START button. Its yellow light illuminated the tip of his finger, giving it a sickly pale colour. _Just part of the job, he thought. He looked at the dragon. She was still watching him with her intelligent, bright eyes. They were bright and silver, like steel. They looked at him with a look that wasn't curiosity or confusion, but a kind of desperate, pleading. Almost as if she knew it was within his power to save him, if only he chose to. _ If they make me do this again I swear I'll quit_. He looked away and clicked the START button. A low voice came from the machine: "Starting sequence," and the timer next to it started down from 60. Normally it would only take a few breaths of air for the animal to lose consciousness but for good measure, the device waited a full minute to start the flames. There was a thin, faint hiss that came from the machine. The dragon looked up at the source of the sound, then looked back at him, her eyes now wide with fear. She tried to flap her malformed wings, fell onto her side, and laid there. Alex stepped back, and let out a long breath he didn't know he was holding. He ran his hands through his hair and found they were trembling. He closed his eyes. The logical side of his brain came up with a few excuses. It's just an animal, he reassured himself_. No different from a cow or chicken. We're doing it a favour. It can't live crippled like this. You'll get fired if you don't. And someone else will just do it. _ The timer read 30 seconds. The clipboard trembled in his hands. He gripped it tightly, and made the mistake of looking down at it and saw her name. Her name was Naomi. A human name. 20 seconds. Naomi lay on her side, her mouth and eyes open. She didn't look like she was sleeping. 10 seconds. There was a sharp jab of pain coming from his fingertips. He looked at them and saw his fingernails had dug into the wood of the clipboard, jabbing splinters under his nails. Crescent-moons of blood pooled under them. 2 seconds. He wasn't even aware of dropping the clipboard, only distantly heard it clatter onto the floor. He frantically hammered the ABORT button. Immediately the hiss was replaced by a low hum as the air was recycled. "abort," the machine said softly. "abort, abort, abort abort abortabortbortortortortrtrttttttt" The PURGE light came on and he slammed it with his palm hard enough to hear the plastic crack. The door swung open. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and gingerly picked up the dragon lying on the floor of the chamber. She hung limply from his hands, and unresponsive. He held her up to to his ear and held his breath, wishing he could will his heart to stop beating so loudly. She still breathed, but barely. He clutched her close to his chest, like she was some precious treasure he had stolen. He looked nervously around. "What the fuck am I doing?" he hissed to himself. "I can't just steal a product. Somebody's going to..." he darted his head back and forth but he was alone. He waited for his heart to stop pounding in his ears,trying to think of an excuse. Slowly, a thought came to him and he looked at the ashy floor of the incinerator. He was supposed to dispose of her after all. It's not like they would miss a pile of ashes. He turned the idea over in his head and couldn't find any flaws. It sounded stupidly simple, but maybe nobody would know. The dragon stirred in his hands. She raised her head and nuzzled his palm. She raised her head groggily and looked up at him. He absentmindedly stroked the feathers between her shoulders. Her mouth partially opened in a way that looked like a goofy smile. Despite himself, he felt a smile spread across his own face. "Well, I always said I wanted a dragon."

Hiding her under his work blazer, he took her from the incinerator room. She lay flat against his chest,making a slight bulge that was barely noticeable if he hunched his shoulders. He took an empty garbage bag, brought it out to the dumpsters behind the building, and tossed the empty bag away, making a show for the security cameras he knew were there. One out of their view, he went casually to his car, leaving the dragon in the trunk. He clocked out for his lunch break and drove her to his house. She stayed in his bathtub in a little bed he made from the pillow and t-shirt while he drove back to work and finished his shift. The rest of the day passed in a kind of grey haze, and he was mostly unaware of what he was doing while working. He alternated between worrying he might get caught, and worrying Naomi might escape his bathtub, hurt herself, or get cold. The decision to take her hadn't been the most logical, and he feared he was making a mistake. At times it felt like a dream, and it seemed like when he came home he would find his house empty, having imagined the whole thing. But of course it wasn't, and when he came home she was where he left her. He took her and gently laid her on his bed. Naomi lay curled up and asleep on one of his pillows, content and still, breathing softly. She drew a big breath (for her size) and blew it out of her nostrils. Her eyelids twitched and he could see her eyes moving under them. The faintest whisper of a breath played across his palm. On the way home he had picked up a copy of a book called 'Taming the Dragon: A Guide to Caring for Your New Scaly Friend.' He had rolled his eyes at the title but online reviews were positive. He idly flipped through the book while Naomi rested and came to the first chapter: "Bringing your Dragon Home: The first few days" "Sounds like they're talking about taking care of a baby," he muttered to himself.. "While young, your dragon's feathers will be able to keep itself warm," the book advised. "As a rule of thumb, if you're comfortable, your dragon is." He looked around, testing the air. "I guess I'm fine." The book glossed over things to get ready before taking the dragon home, like removing things that are potentially dangerous like cables or, or things that are easily knocked over, like table lamps. "They grow quickly," the book continued, "adding 50% to their body weight every month until they reach maturity at six months. (Your dragon's growth may vary.) They'll want to eat every few hours, so make sure to have something available for them at all times." A rustle of movement made him look up. Naomi stretched, extending her grey feathery neck and opened her mouth in a wide yawn, exposing a row of sharp-looking teeth. She shook off the t-shirt and slowly stretched her wings out, one at a time. Her right only extended halfway, but it didn't seem to bother her. She licked her lips and looked at him, giving that grin she made before. He held out his hand and she flicked her tongue against his thumb. It felt like a tiny cold finger. She bit his thumb, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to make her intentions clear. "You're probably hungry, aren't you?" She looked up and uttering a soft "Rah!" "Alright, Naomi," he said, testing the name out for the first time. It was a very human name, not something he'd think of a name for a dragon. "Let's find out what you eat" He turned his wrist over and typed in on his phone "dragon food." Results filled the page. He tapped on the first one: "IAMS Juvenile dragon food." which proclaimed to be "A high-energy, wholesome blend made with natural ingredients" and in smaller letters, "not for human consumption." He read out the ingredients to the dragon on his bed: "Chicken by-products, soybean meal, chicken fat (preserved with mixed tacophorals, a source of Vitamin E) Ground whole-grain Sorghum..." his expression slowly turned from one of interest to confusion, then disgust. "..dried beef pulp, dried egg product, powdered cellulose, fructo...what in the name of fuck is that? Fructooligosaccharides? Potassium chloride, zinc sulphate choline chloride." He scanned over the list again and shook his head. "This isn't food." With careful, intelligent eyes, Naomi watched him, and imitated his gesture, shaking her head from side to side. He went back to the search results and read the ingredients for a more brands, but they all contained similar ingredients. "Hell, I can make better food than this." He looked down at his dragon and she flopped onto her back,stretching out her wings as much as they could. She let out a series of chirps that reminded him of child's laughter. Alex smiled and rubbed a finger along the feathers on her belly. She grabbed his finger lightly with her wings and licked it again. Maybe it would turn out alright, he mused. After all, how hard could it be to take care of a dragon? People did it all the time. It couldn't be harder than taking care of a dog or anything. "You'll be fine," he said, watching her play with his fingers. "We both will."

Saturday, 8th August, 2026 - six months later Above the sink, little boxes of tea were stacked in a way that looked haphazard but, upon closer inspection, were arranged alphabetically: Apple Spice, Black Cherry Berry, Chai Tea, Chamomile, Earl Grey, something called Forest Fruits which he didn't remember buying, three different brands of Green Tea, Honeybrush, Lemon and Ginger, and Oolong. "They call me Mr. Tea," Alex muttered to himself. "I should grow a mohawk and start driving a black van." He picked up the unopened box of Oolong and turned it over in his hands. He unwrapped the plastic and tore open the perforations. Immediately there came the light clicking of claws on the linoleum of his kitchen and a grey feathery snout appeared, followed closely by the rest of his dragon. Naomi was full-grown now, her shoulders came up to his waist and when she extended her neck, it reached his chin. She walked on her hind legs and the knuckles of her wings, the rest of their length folded up neatly. Her gimped wing was barely noticeable, she walked on it with a slight limp that was getting less noticeable every day, although it still couldn't extend fully and therefore couldn't fly. She looked at him curiously, tilting her head up. "Teeee?" Over the last few months, she had started to imitate his speech. Some dragons, especially the ones bred as companions, could do this, like the way some birds did, but actual speech was still far beyond them. Still, she listened to him, and he enjoyed talking to her these last few months. "I pity the fool who only has one type," he said to her and laughed to himself. She tried to imitate the sound of him laughing but it sounded like she was choking. He ruffled the feathers on top of her head and kissed the top of her head. "Oh, Naomi, you understand me." She craned her neck up, curious as to what her human was doing and made the whine she made when hungry. "It's not food," he said. He let her smell it but she wasn't interested. "I don't even know what Oolong means," he said. He thought about asking Des but it was in his bedroom. He put a kettle on the stove and waited for it to boil. There were faster methods, but there was a ritual to making tea. Sometimes the old, slow methods were best. His dragon sat and watched him. Her bright silver eyes were piercing and intense, like a bird of prey. She watched him with an intelligent curiosity that had the flicker of understanding to it, like the way a child watches her parents cook. She preened a wing, plucking out a single feather that stuck out oddly, and let it flutter to the floor. He picked it up and dropped it in the garbage automatically. They had been falling out more often now, a sign she was reaching maturity, and Alex was glad of it. Soon she'd be rid of them completely, and he wouldn't have to pick the up all the time or run the vacuum every few days - the loud machine terrified her. The kettle starting humming softly, then started fuming, and before it started whistling in earnest, he took it off the stove, added it to his mug and dropped the tea bag in. "Remember, Naomi, boiled water is appropriate for black tea, but will burn a herbal tea like Oolong, making it bitter." She looked at him with grave understanding. "Bidder," she answered. He nodded and took it to the living room with her in tow, plopped onto the couch and snapped his phone onto the strap on his wrist. "Okay, Des, play a movie on the TV. Something funny I haven't seen before." When he had moved into his house two years ago, he had synced the phone to his entertainment centre, as well as all the locks and climate control in his house. It made it easier. The TV flickered to life and started playing a movie in progress. Alex watching with a hand idly stroking Naomi's head. Two twenty-something guys were on a couch, surrounded by a haze of smoke, their eyes red. One of them giggled. "What if the word coincidence was pronounced co-onki-donk? And people would say, what if the word co-onki-donk was pronounce coincidence?" The other laughed. Alex rolled his eyes and started to change the movie. Naomi, however, was watching it intently. She tried to say "coincidence" and her effort was about as successful as the guy in the movie. He let her watch it while he picked up his copy of Taming the Dragon and flipped through it, sipping his tea. It was subtly musty, almost nutty, and tart (but not bitter, of course.) He randomly opened it to Chapter 6: Anatomy He saw the signs that gave away the dragon's artificial origin: He saw how their bones were hollow like a bird, but honeycombed in a perfectly symmetrical array of hexagons like a bee hive. The brain cavity was larger than any bird, which the book pointed out was necessary for their social ability and intelligence. Regular birds had a gizzard, a secondary stomach that helped grind up tough food. Since all dragons were domesticated and ate prepared food, this organ was removed from their DNA to save from weight. Goddard Genetics had also designed lightweight feet they had called Goddardactyl, three evenly-sized toes in front, none in the back. The double-G of the Goddard Genetics logo was also imprinted on the hind claws of each individual dragon. Their shoulder sockets had a greater range of mobility and strength, allowing them to walk on them a well as fly. bbbbvvvvvvvvvvvv His phone buzzed his wrist, giving him a welcome distraction. A text message from Lily: "god work is so fucking busy. Havent had any time to slack off yet. what are u up to??" He texted her back. "Just watching some dumb stoner comedy with-" he paused, and deleted the last word. He hadn't told Lily, or anyone about the dragon he had stolen. For a moment he considered telling her. He hovered his fingertips above the touchscreen. What should he say? Could he trust her? He couldn't keep it a secret forever. He looked over at his dragon. She was watching the screen with wide eyes, occasionally repeating what a character said. She looked at him. "Dooood!" she exclaimed. He ended the text with "it's probably the worst movie I've ever seen." and sent it. He sat back and ran his hand through Naomi's feathers, scratching the base of her head. She tilted her head, moving it closer to him and thrummed deep in her chest. He wondered if Lily would think better of him if he told her. "I can trust her, can't I?" he asked. She looked at him, and nudged her head under his hand, whining until he started scratching her again. Before he lost his nerve, he quickly typed out, "Also I got a dragon," and sent it. The reply came quickly: "You actually bought one? Cool! Can I come over and see him??" Alex's heart stopped beating for a full second and eyes widened. That would be perfect. He had never had a good enough excuse to invite her over, and now they could be alone together. His eyebrows raised. They could go out for dinner, who knows what might happen after. "You can come over and see her. When are you off?" he texted her. "Six," came the answer. He grinned. That was only two hours from now. "Sure. Come over then," he answered. There was an achingly long wait. "Cool! I'll be there. Txt me ur address! :D" He did and then leaned over and hugged his dragon, feeling the feathers on his cheek. "I couldn't have picked a better wingman." He paused, feeling a pun grow in the back of his mind like a flower unfolding and knowing he was powerless to stop it. "Even though you need a better wing, man." He laughed to himself. "I'm glad you don't understand how lame my jokes are." He finished his tea, it was making him hot so he pulled his t-shirt over his head and tossed it away. He held her again and they both laid on the couch together. Alex closed his eyes and his mind wandered to Lily, to the moment he had replayed so many times in his head it was hard to tell what was a memory and what was fantasy. But he replayed it again, and this time it was more vivid, more sensual, with the knowledge that it might happen for real. He ran the tip of his finger along his dragon's lip, only partially aware of what he was doing. The feathers here were tiny, more like hairs than anything. He had felt something this soft before, once. Instantly he was transported back five years. _ High-school, graduation. He had gone with his friend Monty, both of them dateless. Alex hadn't been able to work up the courage to ask Lily even though he had written several casual-sounding scripts and, to his shame, one poem. As far as he knew, she came alone as well. He recognized her immediately. She was was wearing a dress of made of many layers, the innermost were a beautiful, rich pink, the outer, purest snow-white. Just like the flower that was her namesake, the Nymphaeaceae._ "Nim-fee-ay-see" he whispered into Naomi's ear. He had Googled it the day he met her, and was reasonably sure he was pronouncing it right. The material flowed like water over her legs as she walked to him. "Do you like it? It's a synthetic polymer called Polyaron that Morgan and Dell makes. They say it's the softest material in existence." He caught a fleeting touch of it as she spun and he believed her.

Lost in his thoughts, he absentmindedly stroked Naomi's feathers. He sighed and his breath parted the feathers on Naomi's head, like wind through grass.

_ Alcohol obviously wasn't allowed at Graduation, but Monty had managed to sneak in a hip-flask of Jack Daniels, and they absconded to an empty room where a dozen of them passed it around, pretending to be adults while on their last days of being children. Through the windows Alex could see the deep crimson of the rising sun as it rose, blotting the sky like a painter's first strokes on canvas. It gently streamed through the glass and landed on Lily's dress, so delicately it seemed like the light itself was being deliberately gentle, as if it didn't want to break her._ Later, he had managed to work up the courage to offer to drive her home. She had accepted. He pulled up in front of her apartment and parked in the Visitor lot. The welcoming yellow light spilled from the lobby to the street, bathing the two of them in gold. Vivaldi oozed out of the car's speakers like a half-heard conversation in another room. Now was the awkward part - the part where the evening hinged on this one moment- the part in the movies where the guy confidently kisses the girl, they part, and she invites him upstairs for "a drink" - but everyone knew what that really meant. Should he kiss her now? (How many times had he asked himself that question, since that one night?) She moved in a bit closer. "When are you going to move out on your own? It's awesome living without parents. You can have anyone you want over." He turned in his seat to see her better. The right side of her face was awash in the buttery glow of the apartment light. Her left, the side closest to her, reflected the green neon of his dashboard, a light that would make anyone unattractive. Anyone but her. Her makeup was subtle and tastefully done. Her hair had been done up neatly earlier in the night but had now come loose, making an attractive blend of sophistication and wildness. They were close enough he could see the glow of the lights in her eyes. Her gorgeous, wide hazel eyes. He was partially aware that she had said something, but couldn't remember what it was. He went with the old standby: "I don't know." He tried to think of an icebreaker. He could turn off the engine. That would give a good enough hint, and it would be subtle enough he could play it off as habit. But alas, the hybrid had turned itself off, and the only thing he could do now was turn off the lights. Which would leave them in the dark, and that would be stupid. _ For the love of God, invite me in,_ he thought. But she hadn't. She had given him a curt "thanks for the ride," a awkward sideways hug, and left. The slam of the door shattered any illusion he had, bringing him back to reality. The harsh orange glare from the apartment shone in and the cold green LEDs The radio blared on. "Shut the fuck up," he said. The music stopped. He drove home alone.

That's what had happened in real life. In his mind, as it had a thousand times since, the outcome was different. In his mind, he continued what would have happened if things had gone differently. He'd turn off the music, lean in, and her body would submit to his touch, soft and sweet like caramel. His fingers would caress her dress, following the gently and deliciously feminine curve of her back. Then he'd slip his hands underneath and feel her bare skin, feel the goosebumps pricking up all over her back wherever his fingertips touched. "I've waited for this for so long, Alex," She'd say breathlessly into his ear, and they would lock lips in a passionate kiss. They'd hurry up to her apartment, and their hands would fumble at each others clothes, frantically working them free.

He closed his eyes and thought of her, and when he ran his hands down Naomi's sides, he imagined it was Lily's dress. He lightly pressed his lips on the top of her head. The rational side of his brain tried to remind him that this was an animal he was lying with, but it was ignored by the rest. As he held her, and imagined his crush, he slowly became aware of the growing pressure in his crotch, and noticed he was getting hard, quickly. It was enough to pull him from his fantasy, like being awoken from a dream. He opened his eyes and rolled them. "Great, getting a boner from cuddling a dragon," he sighed. His penis was now growing harder but still pointing down, so it was bent painfully the wrong way. He moved it up so it rested more naturally along her spine, between his stomach and her back. Naomi squirmed but made no attempt to leave, but instead turned her body to face him. Her eyes locked on to his, showing the bright, black-rimmed silver, like polished coins. They were intelligent eyes, human-like in their shape but exotic and bestial in their colour. Now they were lying front-to-front, and his hard erection was pressed against her belly, directly above her own crotch. She gave a tiny lick on the lip of his nose. When he rubbed away the itch, she planted another, longer one, along his lips. This lick was slower, and if possible for a dragon, more sensual. Almost - he struggled to find the word - erotic. For the briefest of moments, he imagined giving her a proper kiss back, but decided against it. Instead he hugged her tightly, inadvertently rubbing his penis along her belly and felt a twinge of shame at the jolt of pleasure it gave him. "Okay. I think that's enough of that," he muttered. He got up. She gave a small "ehh" of protest that he ignored. There were a startlingly large number of feathers stuck to his bare chest, and picked them off, one by one. He pressed his hands to the small of his back and stretched, feeling his back pop, and inadvertently thrusting his crotch towards Naomi. Embarrassingly, there was a small wet spot of precum staining the fabric. She pushed her head forward and nudged the bulge in his boxers, curiously sniffing. "No, Naomi." He pushed her back but she squirmed away from his hand and pushed her head forward, curious and eager of the new scent she had just discovered. She delicately nipped the front of his boxers with her teeth and pulled them towards her, pulling the waistband low and letting his penis flop free from his underwear. It gleefully bobbed in the air, oblivious to his discomfort like a friend making an embarrassing joke at his expense. "Come on, stop messing around..." He wished what happened next happen too quickly for him to stop her, but in truth he knew he could have moved away. Later, he imagined his subconscious took control, a deep instinctual need for the basest of human instincts which overwhelmed his conscious mind, but deep down he knew that wasn't true either. In any case, the dragon leaned forward and licked the head of his penis. The caress was so unexpected it nearly buckled his knees, but he managed to stay up. Her tongue was unlike anything he felt before, it had the feeling of well-worn leather, but delightfully warm, and slick with saliva. Another bit of precum oozed from the tip, and she licked that up as well, making a quiet "hmmm" sound from deep within her throat. For about ten seconds she continued to lap at his penis before he finally summoned the will to pull away. "Holy shit that's... why are you being so..." And he stopped, looking at the feathers that littered the ground. He reached past her and grabbed his phone. "Okay, Des, at what age do dragons lose their feathers?" "Six months," she answered. "at the same time they reach sexual maturity." He let out a long, drawn out aaaaahhhhh. "Your dragon will be very -- " he muted the phone, picked up his copy of Taming the Dragon and found the chapter on moulting. "Your dragon will shed feathers constantly, generally no more than two or three a day. If they're coming off more often, it may be time to manually de-feather him or her. Otherwise they will all drop out within two or three days, but many owners prefer to pull them out all during one session to make it easier. Don't worry about hurting your scaled friend, if it's time, there is no pain associated with de-feathering. If anything, he or she might like it!" "Well, hopefully this won't take too long." he said irritably. "But you couldn't have picked a worse time to do to it." Naomi rested her snout on the knuckles of her wings and made a pouty face. "If he or she is ready for moulting," the book continued, "the feathers should come out with almost no resistance. Simply rub your hands along the direction of feather growth ("with the grain") and they should come out. Watch your dragon closely, and make sure he or she is in no pain." There was a smaller tip in a rounded box: "Watch out! The first time your dragon is sexually mature, coupled with the close contact of de-feathering, may cause them to become sexually curious at this point." He looked up at his dragon. "Well, that explains your behaviour." She nudged his chest with her nose and he made sure to cover himself. "Your havior" she mumbled. Alex chuckled. "Yeah, I guess I don't have an excuse. Alright, let's get those feathers off."

He knelt beside her and, as the guide recommended, ran his hands along her flank. A handful of grey feathers came off, revealing bright white scales underneath. They came off without resistance, and it didn't seem to hurt her. On the contrary, she closed her eyes and made a deep, almost cat-like purring sound. "That must have been annoying, having those on?" She purred in agreement and nipped his arm. His fingers ran through the feathers, they came away in streams that floated to the floor. Gradually, he uncovered her scales. Through patches of sooty grey feathers he saw mostly white with occasional streaks of deep black. He took her head in his hands and very gently, ran his fingers across her snout, past her eyes and down her neck. The tiny, hair-like feathers came off just as easily and it was like brushing sawdust off a table. There were larger feathers that pointed out from the back of her skull. These ones were different from the grey ones that covered the rest of her body, they weren't downy but were as sharply defined as knife blades. They didn't come out, and Naomi yelped when he pulled on them. "Sorry!" he said and massaged the area where they attached to her head. "You okay?" he asked. She nuzzled his bare arm in reassurance and muttered "okay." More black streaked her head, running from the feathers that still stuck out from the back of her head, that ran under her eyes like eyeliner, where they met on her snout. Her eyes were as fierce as ever, but the streak of black underneath made her look more intense. They shone out, gem-like, from the boundary between light and dark, like the sun on the horizon. Her lips were lined in black. With her head and neck done, he he moved over to her wings, she extended each for him, shifting her weight on to her other side. These feathers were larger, but still loose and downy. They joined the growing piles of feathers beside her. The scales on her wings were mostly white, a pure, snow-white so smooth they reflected the light in the room. With their feathers off, he could see their true shape: they swept sharply back in a way that reminded him more of a jet airplane than a bird. The leading edge and the tips of her wings were pitch-black, so dark they didn't shine with reflected light, but merely swallowed it. Three evenly spaced streaks of black extended from the leading edge to the trailing end of each wing. He peered closer and ran his finger along the smooth, glassy scales. Not a single one anywhere on her body was anything other than black or white. There was perfectly straight line of black scales then behind it, rows of white. Nothing in between. There was a single thumb which extended from the wrist of each wing. The thumb was a sharp spike of black like volcanic glass. All the while, she was happily vocalizing, either repeating what he said, or the few English words she knew, as well as her own made-up words, especially a low grunt that sounded like "fuff." She kept nipping at his hands. "Stop fussing," he said. "Or fuffing. It doesn't count as learning a new word if you make it up." She said "huff" and Alex swore she had a smile on her face. She nipped his nose and he kissed the now-bald top of her head automatically, The new scales were softer than his skin. A slash of coal-black ran down the sides of her powerfully muscled hind legs, like slivers of nighttime through a broken rooftop. Each of her four claws were shards of obsidian, glassy and sharp. When she lifter her leg, he caught a glimpse of a marking on the underside of her foot. Curiously, he took it in a hand and peered at it. As he expected, it was the Goddard Genetics logo - two blocky capital letter G's, the right one turned backwards so they were back-to back. It wasn't tattooed or dyed, the scales themselves formed the letters. A streak of black ran down the sides of her body from the trailing edge of her wing like a brush-stroke of ink. It ran down, slowly narrowing until it came to a stop halfway down her tail. Now that it too was free of feathers, he saw that it was shaped like a dolphin tail, leaf-like and broad. The leading edge of her tail was rimmed in black like her wings. Eventually the last feathers fluttered away and she stood naked and bare before him. Her avian features were clear: on her snout, just past her eyes, he head narrowed in a way that was reminiscent of a beak. Powerful muscles bulged beneath the skin on her chest, muscles that could have easily launched her into the sky if her wings both worked. Her body was smooth and sharply elegant, reminding him at some times like a shark, or a lioness. She was clearly built for speed, and hunting, with all the power and grace that role carried. One that was obviously artificial, but no less beautiful for it. Rather she was undoubtedly, deliberately beautiful. She was created not from millions of fumbling steps and mistakes natural selection would have taken, but was built up, piece by piece, gene by gene by the brilliant minds of the world's best genetic engineers. She was an animal nature could never make, only the conscious human minds of the scientists and geneticists at Goddard Genetics. Alex was reminded of the slogan of that company: "What Nature Wishes She Could Make" She stood poised before him, standing proudly on her hind legs and the knuckles of her wings. Muscles tensed, heard raised. This was the way she was meant to look, and she knew it. She had cast off her childhood which stood in a messy pile beside her, and stood with all the pride of a queen. Even the rim of feathers that jutted from the back of her head was reminiscent of a crown. "You look like a spaceship," Alex said in awe. She broke the tension by dropping to the ground and squirming around on the carpet, rubbing herself on it like an overgrown, scaley puppy. The way she moved was fluid and snakelike. Then she stopped, stock-still, looking at him upside-down, her face a crazy expression of glee. For at least five seconds she stayed completely motionless, then with a yelp that sounded like "yup!", spun deftly onto her legs and wings, and bounded out of the room. In between his laughs, Alex could hear her padding footsteps as they led to his bedroom. Alex looked down at himself. Feathers clung to him, like a pathetic attempt at a bird costume. According to his phone, it was 4:46, he'd have time for a quick shower, then he'd clean this place before Lily showed up. He looked around. Despite wearing only boxers, he was sweating, party from the exertion of de-feathering Naomi, plus the heat of the day. He picked up his phone. "Okay, Des, what's the temperature in here?" A slight pause as the device measure the ambient temperature. "Twenty-nine degrees Celsius, or eighty-four degrees Fahrenheit. "Turn on the air-conditioning to max." Still chuckling to himself, he walked to the bathroom, trailing feathers behind him.

* * *

He let the cold water wash away the sweat from his skin. A few feathers floated downstream like little boats and circled the drain. The massaging shower head sent thousands of tiny tapping drumbeats on his chest. He closed his eyes, held his breath, and let it stream over his face, listening to the steady, murmuring FFFFFFFFFF of the shower obliterate all other sounds. His mind wandered. He wondered what Lily would think of Naomi and whether she'd be impressed. He imagined Lily saying, "I wanna tame your dragon," as she ran her hand up his leg. His laugh echoed in the shower stall. Whoever commissioned Naomi must have specifically requested her design to be that awesome black-and-white scheme. He wondered if her custom genes went deeper than her scales, whether the sexy curves of her body were shared among all dragons or... He jerked his head up and sputtered out a mouthful of water. Did I just call my dragon sexy? He wondered. Blinking, he thought about it. "What the hell," he said out loud. And yet, she was beautiful in a sort of dragony way. He remembered how she had acted. He thought when she licked him, how eager she was. Was it an innocent curiosity, or was she aware of what she was doing? Hopefully she wouldn't do that around Lily. Then he was struck by an image of the two of them together. He imagined what would happen if Naomi did to Lily what she did to him... Colder, he thought, and turned the knob clockwise, sending ice out of the shower head. He stood like this for a while, letting the coldness wash away whatever feelings he had Not that I had any, He reminded himself. I'm only horny because I'm excited to see Lily. It's not like I'm actually attracted to my damn dragon. Am I? He thought. Maybe he couldn't help it. He was struck by an odd thought. Maybe this is what being gay felt like, back when it wasn't as accepted. It was hard to have this debate with himself - there was such a powerful force in his mind saying "no," it overwhelmed his actual opinion. He listened to the steady stream of water. It sounded like it was steadily murmuring to him, trying to convince him of something. "Dragons aren't sexy," he told himself firmly. "I like boobs and asses, not wings and tails." He held up his hands, they were wrinkled like prunes. Or an old man's ballsack. Damn you, brain, he thought. "I can't believe I'm actually thinking about this," he muttered. He rubbed his palms over his face and took a deep breath. Lily would be here soon. There was no time for thinking about this. His horniness could be reserved for her. He turned off the shower. The stream was replaced by a steady plip-dip as drops fell off his body. He grabbed a towel from the rack and dried himself off. He peered out of the bathroom, and shivered. The air conditioning was still on full-blast, and by now the house was cold as a fall morning. He was surprised when he couldn't see his breath. The pile of feathers was now scattered around the room, gently spiraling in the breeze of the air conditioning, like the world's most gentle tornado. He'd have to vacuum before Lily got here. The thought of her coming over gave him a kind of nervous excitement, like the moment before the first hill on a roller coaster. He tip-toed to the living room and picked up his phone to turn off the air conditioning. A notification popped up, one unread text message from Lily: "damn I have to work late tonight to cover 4 someone :( Can I come over a different day?" He stared at the screen and sighed. He told the phone to turn off the air conditioning and the blizzard of grey settled to the ground around him. "Ah, fuck me," he sighed. "So much for that." He sat, naked and alone in the middle of his living room.. Dimly, he wondered if she had simply changed her mind and didn't want to see him at all. He wouldn't be surprised if that was the case. He shook his head and swiped away the text with a bit more force than was needed. The phone displayed in text what it had said earlier, when he had muted it before it could say, "your dragon will be very cold when its feathers are off and before its body learns to regulate its temperature so make sure you have some blankets and a warm spot for it." Slowly the puzzle pieces fell into place. He looked up. "Naomi?" he whispered. Then called her name, louder. There was a brief but unnerving moment of silence, then he heard the delicate padding of her feet on the carpet. A moment later he caught her out of the corner of his eye as she gently laid her cold snout on his bare shoulder. He leaned his head against hers and closed his eyes. "Thanks for coming." She was silent, but when she breathed out, he could feel she was shivering. He picked up his phone. "Okay, Des, turn on the heat to max." A second later, he heard the click of the heater starting up, and the feathers on the ground started flying around again. He could feel warm air blow gently across him. "Come on, let's get you warmed up." She followed him into the bedroom. She jumped onto his bed and he crawled under the sheets with her, wrapping the two of them together like a big human-dragon burrito. He pressed his body against hers, sharing as much body heat as possible. He held her tightly, and she wrapped her wings around him, hugging him and pressing him closely. For the moment he felt her body against his, and enjoyed the simple pleasure of their closeness. It felt like he was encased in a living, breathing blanket. Eventually she stopped shivering and he could feel her growing warmer. "I'm sorry," he murmured into her neck. She looked up at him, her bright eyes wide and mouth open in a cheerful smile. She reached up and licked his nose. "Fuff" she said again. "I know. Fuff." He laughed and kissed her on the snout. He looked down and realized they were both naked. He was lying on top of her, his arms around her, his legs between hers. If anyone saw them, it'd be hard to explain. He looked around, even though he knew they were alone. When he looked back at her, her eyes were locked on his. _ Here goes nothing,_ he thought. He leaned in and kissed her. Her lips were scaly, of course, but a texture different from any other part of her body. It was just like human skin, soft and refreshingly cool from the rapidly warming room. Her mouth parted just a bit when he did, emulating him as she always did. Her tongue gently caressed his lips, tasting him. He did the same and her mouth tasted earthy, almost dusty with a bit of nuttiness. Their lips parted too soon and it left him wanting more. He stared at her. Now that her head was free of feathers, he could see her face was far more expressive than he had originally thought. Her eyes were bright and intelligent as always, but now he could tell there was a slight raising of the cheek, a widening of the lips and a half-closing of her eyes - unless it was his imagination, she was wearing a look of lust. She made a low whine, it was like the sound she made when she was hungry, but deeper. He felt her wings tightened against his back and she deliberately pushed him forwards so he was pressed against her. She squirmed and he felt her legs tense on either side of his own as her body lifted up and she ground her hips against his. He felt his penis jolt as blood rushed to it. _ That's the second time she's given me a boner_, he thought. But it didn't seem as odd as it did before. "You want it, don't you?" he whispered, even though he already know the answer. "Rah," she said softly. She reached up and licked his lips again. Very gently, she opened her mouth and bit his shoulder. Her teeth felt like a hundred tiny pinpricks. She squirmed a bit, thrusting her hips and rubbing against him. He looked down at her body. Her legs were spread wide to accommodate him, and he saw the area between them for the first time without her feathers. Her arousal was obvious. The outer lips of her vent were swollen, fleshy mounds on either side of the slit itself. The lips that defined the entrance to the vagina itself were delicately pink like a flower, contrasting the otherwise perfect white of the rest of her underside. Her vent was covered by a thin sheen of fluid that made her white scales mirror-like. He could feel the weight of his erection, pulling him down stronger than its weight could account for, a pull that wasn't just of gravity, but lust and desire and longing. Before he knew it he was holding his erect penis, and could feel the blood throbbing in it. He was painfully hard and was and one motion away from sex with a dragon. A last remnant of his conscience tried weakly to stop him. The animalistic side urged him forward. All the feelings he had for Lily hadn't gone away, they had simply been redirected to Naomi. This side of him didn't notice or care what her species was, it simply wanted, without bothering to understand. The logical side of his mind was intensely aware of the fact that this was a dragon underneath him, and resisted with a nagging voice. But it was growing fainter and fainter like an echo in a cave. The balance was slowly tilting, like a car balance precariously on the edge of a cliff. All it would take is the slightest nudge, and it would fall, and gravity would do the rest. Her breath played gently across his chest, and her scales were cool against his skin. "Oh, fuck me," he said to himself. "Fuck me," she whispered, and the way she said it, it was like her own thought, not simply imitating him, but a desire that manifested itself in those two words. Gravity took over. He wished what happened next could be called an unconscious movement, but in reality he was intensely aware of what he was doing. His erection lay along the slit of her scaled vent, along the scales that were so tiny they felt like skin. Slowly, he moved his hips back so his penis dragged across her vent, until the tip was resting just at the warm and wet entrance. Naomi relaxed, and thrummed deep in her chest, a deep sound that sounded like a sigh of pleasure. She looked at him expectantly. He pushed forward, so that the wet folds of her scaly vent spread apart and gripped the head of his cock tightly but allowed him to pass. They were smooth as her scales, but warm, and wet, and let him slide in comfortably. He watched her expression for any hint of discomfort. He was worried she might not be able to take him, since she was a virgin, and because of the difference between species. But any idea that she might feel any pain or discomfort evaporated when she lightly nipped his shoulder and looked up at him with a cute, intelligent expression, one that said, "continue." She hugged him with her wings. They were surprisingly strong and they pushed him forward. It felt like she was claiming him for her own, protectively and jealously, and the look of satisfaction on her face showed this wasn't a coincidence. As he slowly entered her, he let out a long breath he didn't realize he had been holding, one that was halfway between a sign of contentment and a moan of pleasure. A wave of bliss ran through his body. It was like a jolt of electricity, but slow, like warm honey spreading across his skin. Naomi's cooed and rubbed her neck against his. Encouraged, he pushed in a bit farther, careful not to rush or hurt her. She felt different from a human, her body temperature was cooler, but not unpleasantly so. Rather it was refreshing, like a cool breeze on a hot summer day. Just cool enough to make the physical sensation stronger, the way your skin feels more sensitive when cold. Each of the dozens of ridges and bumps rubbed and caressed his cock, they waved each was pushed backwards and, sliding along his cock, massaging it delightfully. He drew in a sharp breath once his skin touched the cool scales of her belly and he was all the way inside her. He paused, enjoying the close, sensual contact. Physically, it was a perfect fit. Lying down, they were virtually the same size and it felt natural, like she was made for him. She enveloped him like a tight, warm blanket on a cold day. For the moment he scarcely believed what was happening. Six months ago, the thought of owning a dragon was a dream. Yesterday, the thought of having sex with one was absurd. Now here he was, balls deep in dragon pussy. _ "That'd be a good name for a band,"_ he thought. "Balls Deep in Dragon Pussy." She let out a low hum, a reverberating purr and gently licked the tip of his nose. He slowly withdrew, and plunged in again, making her give a light "hrmf" of pleasure. A groan escaped him, one he couldn't stop even if he tried to. She felt better, far better than any human he had been with. At first, the texture reminded him of her tongue, like worn and comfortable leather, but after a while, he realized it was far more richly textured than that. The skin lining her walls were made of hills and valleys, shapes that probed and massaged his shaft, a series of a hundred warm, wet caresses. Only the first few inches were like this, after that, her passageway smoothed and widened a bit, the texture turned to gentle grooves like ripples on a pond. He was glad, otherwise it would have over-stimulated the sensitive head of his penis. It made his chest tighten and his hands grip the bedsheets in rough bunches. Silently he thanked whatever genetic engineer who had thought of adding the texture and decided that person deserved a raise. It certainly was working. "Goddamn it, Naomi, I should have thought of this earlier." She grunted in agreement and he started thrusting inside her earnestly, plunging in and out of his dragon, slowly and steadily increasing his pace. The bedposts banged against the wall but he ignored it, listening only to the light, happy sounds his dragon was making. Her wings relaxed around him. She no longer gripped him tightly but started exploring his back with the claw on her wings. She ran them up and down, feeling the muscles under his human skin, so different from her own scales. He felt the tickle of a single bead of sweat slide down his forehead, down the ridge of his nose where it wavered for a moment, and was knocked loose by his movement and fell to Naomi's neck. The room was growing warmer from the heating system, and he was building up a steady pace. For a moment he considered getting up and turning it off but decided against it - it could wait. "It can wait, can't it. Naomi?" She let out a happy trill of agreement that sounded like sweet laughter. He saw hard the tendons of her delicate neck flex as she reached up and slid her tongue up his neck, tasting the salty sweat of her human. The wet, slippery thing sent goosebumps down his spine and made him shiver despite the heat. Her tongue caressed his mouth, playfully flirting with his lips, teasing him like a first date. "If you're gonna kiss me do it properly," he said, and pressed his lips against hers. She emulated his movements, slightly opening her mouth as he did. Their mouths stayed together, tongues exploring each others mouths. Her thin tongue was serpentine and muscular, it twisted its way into his mouth and squirmed, brushing against his and rubbing against every surface it could find. She was a surprisingly good kisser, even despite the alien shape of her mouth. He dimly wondered if this was an intentional habit Goddard had written into their DNA as well. Her taste was barely noticeable at first but had a fresh, mossy aroma that reminded him of a forest after rain or freshly cut grass, and a dark, earthy taste like coffee. He held her head delicately and made out with his dragon while he continued thrusting inside his dragon, consciously aware of the growing pleasure it was filling him with. The feeling steadily grew, and expanded inside him, like a balloon being inflated as their act was drawn towards its inevitable conclusion. When their mouths finally parted and they moved apart, she lay her head back on the bed. Her eyes were tightly shut, and her tongue lolled out of her mouth. Alex dropped down to a more comfortable position, resting his elbows on the bed. Naomi noticed the change in closeness, she crooned, and nuzzled her cheek against his. He couldn't help but smile, since the initial awkwardness had left him, he allowed himself to be intimate and he stroked the back of her head, feeling the how the remaining feathers ran through his fingers. As he rocked back and forth inside her, he ran his palm over the glassy scales of her body, following the tapered streak of black against white. His hands lightly caressed her and she cooed at the additional skin contact. She rubbed her wings against his back, copying his motions. The glassy spike of her thumbnail scratched his skin pleasantly as it drew patterns across his back like a pen against paper. He felt something brush against his leg and looked back. Her tail rested on his leg, she drew it down and the fins on either side caressed his skin like a lover's hand. She didn't seem to be able to control it, and it randomly drew patterns across his back and legs. Her wings gripped him tighter, and the claws on her knuckles pricked into his skin, almost but not quite enough to hurt. He began thrusting harder now, her wetness easing him along. He could feel her fluids coating his balls and it felt like cold wet kisses and made light smacking sounds as he rammed hard into her. Her body rocked up and down the bed as the force of his thrusts pushed her up and down. Through half-lidded eyes she watched him, and the look was different from any look she had given him. Erotic and sensual. Now there was no subtlety or intimacy left, but hard, wild sex. He fucked her like a dragon should, with no care for anything but the the raw animal lust which filled it. He panted, and moans escaped him, and he didn't try to stop them. Naomi's head was thrown back against the bed, her mouth open. She was panting hard, and let out a deep, gnarly moan that he could feel in his chest. Her whole body tensed and he could see her feet on either side of him, and her toes curled up as she approached what was undoubtedly her first orgasm. He could feel her tense her legs, and she used them to push Alex forward, so he was pushed as far as possible into her. Through her tightly clenched jaw, she gave a final, gasping rrrr-eee-eee-ffff and Alex was suddenly overtaken by a surprisingly strong, rhythmic vibrations that came from deep within her and surrounded his penis. His orgasm rushed onto him expectantly and he felt his body stiffen. With one final, hard thrust into her, he emptied his balls inside her, his body shuddering, and an entirely inhuman sound escaped: he clenched his jaws and growled. It was an expression of the deep, feral physical feeling she was giving him. He gripped her tightly as his cock convulsed again and again, shooting load after load of cum deep inside his dragon, filling her with enough fluid to for it to leak out and run down her vent, onto the base of her tail. Dimly he was aware of her thumb claws digging into his back, but the pain was like a like a light breeze, barely noticeable. And the pleasure that ripped through him was like the blast from an explosion, tearing away everything in its path. All the while her insides continued to massage his cock, milking him greedily, eating up every drop he produced. Still it continued, her insides worked his cock which continued to convulse, even though he was sure it must be empty by now. Eventually his orgasm subsided, and he lay against her, his arms shaking too hard to hold himself up. He panted like he had just ran a marathon. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears like a machine gun. Her vent continued to contract, still trying to eke whatever it could from him, but it was weak and subdued like a half-hearted attempt to swat away a fly. She still held him with her wings but they were weak, and simply lay across his back. They slid off him, flopping on the bed, and she gave a feeble attempt to fold them back. He rested against her for a moment, his head laying against her long neck. He could feel the blood pumping through the arteries in her neck - it was beating quickly, but as he listened, it slowed down to normal as time went on. Naomi drew in a deep breath and let it out in a satisfied sigh, blowing air across his face and tousling his hair. She licked his cheek, and it was like she was saying "thank you." At first his erection stubbornly refused to cease but as the minutes passed by it reluctantly softened, but he kept it inside her. Dimly he was aware of an ache in his balls, an ache that only a good hard fuck can produce. There was a numbness spreading through his lower body. He was sure he wouldn't be able to walk even if he tried. "Holy shit, Naomi. I can't even feel my legs." He reached up and stroked the side of her face. She looked into his eyes and licked his palm, her breath cool and refreshing against his skin. He closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing. When he woke up the sky was dark outside his bedroom window. He rubbed his eyes and cleared his throat. "Fuck me, I didn't mean to --" A black and white dragon head appeared from under the covers. "Fuck me!" Naomi said. Alex opened his mouth to say no and closed it. His dragon watched him with bright playful eyes. "Okay," he said.