Entries tagged with “anal sex”.


Clawing back towards the waking world, Ali became aware of two things. One was pain – mostly a throbbing headache, but also some all-over aching and stiffness; the other was the scent of lilacs.

That was a bit curious – it was well past the early spring when lilacs were in bloom – and that in turn provided something to focus on other than the pain, which was quite welcome. Oh, to be sure, some floral scents were frequently distilled and used in perfumes and incense, but lilac was – regrettably, from Ali’s point of view – not a common choice for that.

It also served as a reminder that Ali wasn’t at home, because the Arcine manor didn’t have lilacs on the grounds these days, blooming out-of-season or otherwise, nor was the scent favoured among the staff. As fragments of the evening before sorted themselves in Ali’s memory, this wasn’t terribly surprising – but one thing Ali couldn’t remember was actually getting into bed.

(more…)

The flight attendant’s voice was soft, as someone might make their voice when they wanted to gently wake someone, but didn’t want to try very hard to do so if that latter someone was deeply asleep. Which, indeed, was probably exactly why she’d done it. But Rico Montel had rather often had call to doze lightly, making the most of the time spent waiting for an interruption that could come at any time, but might not be for an hour or more, and that was what he’d done on this flight; now he blinked awake, focusing after a few attempts on the squirrel whose gentle murmur of “Officer?” had roused him.

I’m awake,” he managed, promptly if perhaps not with complete honesty, and paused to cover a yawn. “Wha’ is’t?” (more…)

Freedom. At long last he was free!

Delvin threw back his head and let a laugh tumble free, whipped away by the wind as Glitterdark bore him down from the clouds. The drake was in just as good humour as the rider, wings splayed wide, barely rustling as he rode the currents; his eyes were half-lidded, his posture as relaxed as it was possible for a dragon in flight to be, save that as Delvin looked about at the vast unspoiled landscape rising to meet them, the drake’s tail-fin splayed and relaxed in a rhythm of barely-constrained excitement.

Behind him, now, was the bewilderment of Choosing, the labour and study of a candidate with eggs hardening before the hearth, the gut-wrenching anxiety leading up to a hatching. They’d lived together through Glitterdark’s ravenous hatchling days, the confused young night-drake barely able to comprehend anything but his own hunger and Delvin’s devoted care. Then the lessons, the training, the endless, endless drills both on the ground and in the air. For years, they’d never had a moment’s peace.

And now, wonderfully, for the first time since he’d been Chosen by his dragon’s dam as a youth of fourteen autumns and entrusted to the care of Glitterdark’s cornflower-blue egg, the young man’s time was his own. (more…)

The moment the door closed, it sank in just how much more of a home the Hall of Healing had become than the Deep ever had. Perhaps the appointments weren’t quite so sumptuous, definitely not so spacious, and the food was much simpler fare, but he felt safe there. For the past few years especially, the Deep had kept him in a state ranging from anxiety to active terror.

Jisarr sagged against the door with a sigh of relief.

Rima looked from one of them to the other. “Aynithral’s market may be the most hectic place I’ve seen, but the both of you look rather too wrung for even that.”

“The market, averting a bloody riot, and interrogation by a rather prickly general. That’s enough to leave anybody feeling wrung,” Tavi put in. “I think I need a drink, and I’m strongly considering getting you one on healer’s orders.” With that parting word to Jisarr, she disappeared deeper into the building.

(more…)

At last, home was in sight.

Well, maybe not his own actual home. He was from the coast, and once his discharge was processed, to the coast he’d return for the rest of his aborted training. But it was his homeland, there past the river and the line of border forts straddling it, torches on their roofs gleaming like brilliant jewels in Hakenteri’s keen sight.

(more…)

Hakenteri had used every curse word he knew in four different languages and was starting over. It took a while – partly because the gryphon was cursing under his breath as he flew, rather than with full dedication, but mostly because one didn’t spend five years in active service with the Highmoor Legions, and more time beyond that in training, without picking up some of the essential skills.

False leads, inaccuracies, late arrivals, missing details – nobody had ever told him that serving as the Legion’s eyes and ears in other lands would be easy, but this was getting downright ridiculous.

The place he’d left behind with the first of those muttered curses was the eighth he’d investigated since starting this particular mission. It was supposed to have been as straightforward as a spy-courier’s duties ever got – get in, meet the contact, hear the report, confirm it, get home. And that would have been that; the five years he’d sworn to serve would be done and he could move on to civilian life. Which, unlike most of his kind, he had serious prospects for; he’d had no intention of re-enlisting.

That had been at the start of spring. It was the height of summer, now.

Hakenteri didn’t begrudge the extra time – truly. It would have been nice to be done months ago as expected, but he’d had no intention of leaving a task unfinished. The real problem was that this particular task seemed tailored for maximum frustration.

(more…)

The ship’s bridge wasn’t much of a conference room. For that matter, it wasn’t much of a bridge – civilian vessels didn’t need all that much as it was, and in this case, auxiliary displays and a few secondary stations had been shut down and stripped for parts to keep more essential things running. But it was an even worse conference room, with crash chairs and consoles cluttering the open space. The only reason there was enough room for everyone present to sit facing one another was that the engineer was small enough to perch on top of a console.

In fairness, part of the reason for that was that their security chief and loadmaster took up as much space as any two of the others. Kirrik could have sat in his lap, but the Trygg didn’t really want to draw any more attention to their unconventional arrangement than might already be upon it, not during anything remotely official anyway.

(more…)

I wasn’t expecting to see anyone there. I hadn’t come by the point since I started at university, but I was feeling moody, feeling a need to reconnect with where I’d been. So I left my bike parked and hiked up the trail with a lunch bag, expecting to spend a bit of quiet time there.

I wasn’t expecting to see him there – and by the surprise on his face when he looked over and saw me, neither was he. “Cale!” The otter scrambled up to his feet, crossed the modest distance at a dead run, and threw his arms around as he collided with me.

What else could I do? I hugged him back, hard, as though it could make up for the time we’d been apart. (more…)

Adren twirled, letting his hair swirl around him, coal-black over his snowy, grey-spotted pelt. When it came to rest, a thick lock of it was hooked over his shoulder, running down his body and over his hip.

Not, he fancied, a horrible look for him, but he made no particular effort to keep it there when he straightened. No, he had no want of a studied, arranged appearance now; it was enough to know that his hair was as free of knots and tangles as he’d thought.

(more…)

Varyn frowned at the sight before him, slipping the haft of his mace back through its loop at his belt. “Well,” the big wolf murmured, “this is an unusual turn of events. How are you feeling?”

“Strangely enough,” said Kob, stretching to reach over the table, “I feel fine.”

It wasn’t that grand a table; a normal-sized adult would have had no trouble reaching across it for the silver candlestick that now filled Kob’s hand. Nor would that candlestick have been hard for that normal-sized adult to get his or her fingers around. That dissonance was really what hammered home Kob’s current state of affairs.

Even more than Varyn looming over him. Kob was used to that, even if the wolf didn’t normally loom quite so much.

(more…)

Markus came to with a throbbing headache and an instant sense that something was wrong.

The last he’d known, he’d been hiking along a quite ordinary forest path. Or so it had seemed. The fact that he was now struggling to regain consciousness that he couldn’t even remember being about to lose in the first place rather suggested that something out of the ordinary had happened.

He was lying on bare wood – smooth, seamless wood, not sawn planks; his questing fingers found no edges, no nails, though there wasn’t light enough to see by, just a tiny square of it off to one side that did more to emphasize the darkness than to alleviate it. He still had on his trousers and tunic, but his cloak, boots, pack, and his belt knife were all absent.

Some kind of prison, obviously. But whose? And what in the world had he done to land himself here?

(more…)

It wasn’t often that Brandon saw a boomer he didn’t know.

Most of that was because he didn’t live in a place where kangaroos and the like were in any way common. Those that did live around here, for the most part, were already familiar. And yet there one was that he couldn’t remember seeing before – young, maybe just starting college; that’d explain him being a new face. He looked reasonably fit, as well as could be told given that their kind tended to be rather pear-shaped regardless. He had slate-grey fur and well-kept clothing.

He also looked rather wilted – slouching, ears drooping, a perfect picture of someone who was Not Having A Good Time – and he was scanning the club crowd with an expression somewhere between wistful and envious.

When the music turned to a slow number and the people on the dance floor started pairing up, that expression shifted decidedly toward envious.

A loner at a club, wishing he could be one of the couples… heartbreak, Brandon guessed. Or romantic issues of some kind, anyway. And there was something about the way this new boomer’s gaze lingered… Brandon put that out of his mind. Whatever happened, happened; but here was a good-looking guy who didn’t deserve to feel totally alone. Not on a nice early-autumn evening like this, especially.

(more…)

The door swung into the tiny little room. Two burly tigers strode through it, taking up positions on either side of it. In their wake followed a much smaller man, a unicorn with pure white fur and blue eyes, in a fine white suit that was as distinct from the darker, simpler dress of the tigers as his body was from theirs.

The tigers glared at the room’s other occupant, a similarly large black dragon. The unicorn, on the other hand, seemed to hardly notice anybody else there at all, sauntering over the wooden floor with a light clatter of hooves. He ran a finger along the bare surface of a side table and held it up, as though inspecting for dust.

“I suppose,” he said at last, in a voice heavy with resignation, “you’re not going to make this easy, are you?”

(more…)

The great blue dragon heaved a heavy sigh. “Truly, you are the most curious human I have ever encountered. Many have come seeking my blood. More – and some few of my own kind – have come seeking my wealth.”

With the outward curve of one obsidian claw, he stroked along the human’s side, where that human lay on the dragon’s own stomach. “None of them – except perhaps one fetching but greedy red, and certainly none of the humans – showed nearly so much interest in my sex.”

Kalen laughed, gliding his hand along the broad expanse of the dragon’s arousal. “I’ve more interest in knowledge and magic than in coin. And I’m young yet. A lover, however temporary, means more to me than a purse of silver.”

(more…)