Festival Festivities

Okay, so it's Saturday.

I was tired, man. I also still owe you the tear-down of my own horrible Krystal porn. It's coming. Don't be a hater, maaaannn.


We're actually catching up to more recent work, now. This isn't quite chronologically the next thing I wrote, but I already destroyed that with the Krystal nonsense, anyway.

I don't have a whole lot to say about this, except that the species is again borrowed from the lovely work of *morningstar located at http://gerbilfat.tumblr.com/. Specifically, this species:

And again, it spun off from an RP. I'm a master at perverting the cleanly, what can I say?

This is the first of probably many stories with this character set. I'm almost finished with the second one. Here's a snippet to whet your palette:

Nefil watched his older brother whisper, but the words were drowned out by song. Then he watched Nali punch his brother in the shoulder.

“Jonet!” she squeaked, indignant. “She’s sacred!” She followed the first punch with another, then another, but she couldn’t stop herself from grinning as she pummeled the older boy.

“Hey, hey, stop! I can’t help it! Stooop!”

After a final punch for good measure, she shook her head with a giggle. “You’re a dirty heathen. I don’t know why I invite you over.”

Jonet smirked. “Because you like it.”

With a shake of her head, Nali did her best to look angry. “Not at all. You’re terrible.” She leaned back until she was halfway lying on Nefil, putting as much distance as she could between herself and Jonet. “You drag your brother here and leave him all alone with some stranger, then you go saying inappropriate things about the deer spirit. You know what? I’m gonna be friends with Nefil, instead.” Her head dropped backwards, until she was leaning over the younger brother’s arm and looking him in the eyes. “How would you like that, Nefil? Want to be friends? I’m nice to my friends, you know.”

Nefil found himself caught between a giggle and a blush. Her voice was sending tingles through his belly and fingertips, which was definitely weird and definitely hadn’t ever happened before. How could words do that? He decided it must be the tea. He drooped his face over Nali’s and gave her a big grin. “Sure. You gave me tea. We can be friends.”

Nali smirked back. One of her hands trailed up Nefil’s neck, fingertips gracing his cheek and ear before coming to rest on the back of his head. And then in a single, sudden motion, she drew her lips toward his and pulled, forcing his face into hers.

Nefil’s eyes grew wide, then fell firmly closed, a soft gasp leaving his throat as Nali bit his lip. He pressed back, his lips groping blindly, a novice motion that would have embarrassed him without so much tea.

Nali made the most of his motions, nipping and sucking at his lips, drawing another gasp, then another. When she finally pulled away, she watched as his hands clenched slowly into fists, then slowly unfurled, fingertips digging into the dirt. His breath was heavy, his gaze lost, and she gave him a knowing smirk. “No, silly. I’m nice to my friends. Ask your brother. We used to be friends.”

Jonet chuckled and shook his head. Scooting closer to Nali, he reached over and ruffled his brother’s hair. “It’s true. She’s a sweetheart. ” He reached for the cup and emptied the last of the tea pot. After finishing his half, he handed the rest to Nali with a smirk. “You can be her new friend, Nefil, but I still get first dibs.”

Nali took the cup with a wicked grin.

A little long for a snippet, but context is important to this story.

As usual, stay away from this story if you're opposed to graphic sexual content and wallowing in hedonistic joy. But then if you are, why are you here?

(P.S.: All characters in this story are at least eighteen, because I wrote it, and I say so.)

The boat was drawing near to the island. Even in the distance, the young man could already detect the gentle waft of festival food in the air. Sweet or salty, fried or boiled, it was all wonderfully indulgent, the kinds of foods that elders warned the little ones not too eat too much of or they’d get a bellyache.

                Nefil’s arms ached, and he wondered how much longer he’d have to row before another of the young men on the boat would offer to take over. The water had been gracious, thankfully, and for much of the trip they’d had to put little effort into the journey at all. It was just his luck that the current had failed them when it was his turn.

                As if sensing his fatigue, his older brother gestured for the oar. Nefil handed it over without a word, nodding graciously as he slid back into the belly of the boat. The lively chatter that’d passed most of the journey so quickly had died down, replaced by a thick, tangible nervousness, each of the boys on the boat slipping into their own fantasy of how this night would go.

                At least, that’s what he assumed they were doing. Of the sixteen boys on this boat, only one other seemed to bear the same hesitation that he did, and naturally it was Tefna, the only other person on the boat he didn’t want to talk to. Not that Tefna had done much of anything to him, now or ever before, but the boy was something of a hermit and the nature of his illusionist magic made him a bit difficult to trust.

                Nefil glanced up at the afternoon sky, watching the clouds for some time before looking back to his older brother. Jonet was bigger than he was, broader in the shoulders and chest, and with each mighty pull of the oar he seemed to ooze anticipation. This was Jonet’s third year coming to the harvest festival on this island, and every year when he returned he told stories to Nefil that were so salacious and overblown, that they failed entirely to arouse the jealousy they were intended to produce.

                Watching how Jonet rowed, Nefil wondered how much had been true. Sweat was already beginning to drip down his brother’s bare torso, glistening against the dark violet that colored his back, his sides, and the outsides of his arms and legs. 

Jonet sure seemed excited about whatever it was he expected, whether or not it was anything like he talked about.

                With a quiet sigh, Nefil picked at the black and purple fins that adorned the outside of his arm. The violet flesh on the outside of his arm seemed to have grown darker over the past two days in the sun, and he wondered if the people on this island, with their pale green backs, were prone to burning.

               

*             *             *

                When the boat ran ashore, Nefil watched as the other fifteen young men around him seemed to bounce to life. Even Tefna was visibly excited to leave the boat, his hands trembling as he gathered his things and hurried away. His steps were as awkward and unsure as they were eager, as if he was expecting to encounter something strange and wonderful but had no idea what it was. Jonet stayed behind, securing the boat, and by the time Nefil stepped out of it, his older brother had already finished.

Jonet glanced over at Nefil from the side of the boat, a knowing grin etched into his strong features. “Come, little brother. You got your marks nearly a year ago. Don’t be so nervous.”

Nefil frowned, his cheeks turning red as Jonet walked ahead. He found himself walking quickly behind, as though proximity to his older brother would somehow grant him safety. “The elders said I should think about staying. The potter on this island is very old, and she can no longer work her wheel. I’m just… I want to make a good impression. This might be home, someday soon.”

Jonet cast a smile over his shoulder, only to shake his head. “Nefil, I forget you haven’t had the grown-up festival food, yet. All the people you need to meet are going to be drunk and well-fed. You’d have to be rude on purpose to offend, and even then it’d be a challenge.”

The young man nodded somberly. He could see the faint outline of the village up ahead, and he could hear the faint traces of song in the distance. The scent of food was growing so strong it was almost overwhelming, and it was his stomach that broke the silence he created.

“Almost there,” Jonet laughed. “Try not to wilt, just yet.”

Nefil opened his mouth to reply, but fell quiet again. His thoughts drifted quickly away from his stomach, to the many stories he’d heard of the head elder of this island, Anan. Anan was not only a summoner, but something of a legend on his own right. Everyone knew of Anan and his journey to the human lands beyond the sea, his only companion an illusionist who was tainted by the evil they sought to banish from the realm. The thought of meeting Anan in person had left Nefil so sick to his stomach, he wasn’t sure he’d even want to try the food, no matter how good it smelled.

After a time, he looked back up toward his brother. “…are their elders as kind as ours?”

Jonet laughed up ahead, shaking his head again. “Oh, no, they’re terrible. Anan especially. I once watched him flog a boy for spilling tea.”

Nefil frowned, fully aware of Jonet’s sarcasm but fully incapable of not imagining this happening to him. Quietly, privately, he vowed for the fourth time that day never to ask his brother a serious question, again.

*             *             *

The village, of course, was remarkably similar to Nefil’s own. Despite all logic, the young man had long since imagined each island of having something striking and unique about its architecture, something that commanded the attention of visitors and reminded them exactly how far they were from home.

Most of the dwellings here were tents just like his back home. The few semi-permanent structures here, while shaped differently from the councils and halls on his island, were built in the same way from the same materials. And while the throngs of people crowding the campfires were, indeed, lighter-skinned, they didn’t look much different, either.

Nefil felt himself caught somewhere between relief and disappointment. The smell of the food, however, was catching up to him. He watched Jonet pass by a group of people huddled around a pot filled with some kind of boiled fish ball, and his stomach rumbled so loudly he could hear it over the music.

Jonet reached an arm behind himself, grabbing hold of Nefil’s shoulder.

The young man felt himself clutching his bag to his chest as his older brother led him through a crowd of bodies swaying and singing, keeping in tune with music so lively and boisterous it almost made Nefil want to dance, too. Almost.  Jonet was leading him somewhere, though, somewhere past this crowd, and by the time he could finish wondering where they were growing, he saw the stocky shape of Anan the Summoner just ahead of them.

Anan was… unmistakable. While it wasn’t unheard of for those who dealt in magic to be physically changed by it, the degree to which Anan had been changed by his summoner’s calling was the stuff of campfire stories told to wide-eyed children. Horns of the ram, talons of the falcon, a tail unlike any animal, live or dead. For all these years, Nefil had assumed these stories were nothing but folklore, so blown out of proportion that Anan himself would laugh at their telling.

He’d been wrong.

Nefil’s head fell in a bow. He felt Jonet’s hand fall away from his shoulder, his older brother doubtlessly repeating the motion. But even as Nefil tried to steal a peek at the clawed feet and tail just ahead—so much truer to the legend than he could have ever imagined—he heard a deep, friendly voice boom a welcome.

“Jonet! Another visit this year, I see! Tell me, boy, when are you going to just settle down here?”

His older brother let loose a laugh, and Nefil glanced up to see the two share a hug. After Anan pulled away, Nefil caught himself staring at Anan’s horns. He quickly glanced away.

The elder treated Jonet to a heavy slap on the back and stepped back with a grin. “You just missed Nali, you know. I think she’s off drinking too much, like you should be doing.”

Jonet smirked and shook his head, gesturing behind him to the young man still bowing his head. “This respectful little twerp is Nefil, my younger brother. He’s the potter my elders spoke of.”

“Aha! Yes!” Anan’s broad face lit up, and he quickly stepped toward Nefil. Heavy hands gripped him at the shoulders, lifting his head. “Respectful, indeed! You’ll bump into someone walking around like that, boy.”

Nefil tried to mutter an apology, but he could hardly hear his own words over the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears. Anan was talking to him, right now. Anan. The Anan. Oh, Gods.

Another deep belly laugh shook Anan, and he glanced back toward Jonet. “What is it with the young ones and the trembling? Don’t they know I stopped eating children? Too much fat.”

And then Jonet was laughing again, doubtlessly amused by Nefil’s discomfort. “Come on, Nefil. Say ‘hello’.”

“I-It’s an honor to meet you,” Nefil stammered, the words audibly rehearsed. “I appreciate your hospitality.”

Anan chuckled, a soft smile finding his features. One of his hands reached up to the young man’s head, ruffling his hair. “Relax, young man. You’re grown up now, and should have some grown-up fun. Let your brother show you the festival food. I hear it’s your first time. Enjoy some tea, have fun, and we can speak after the festival about our potter, yes?”

Nefil managed a smile, his heart still racing but the knot in his stomach coming slowly undone. He nodded once, then again. “Yes, yes. Thank you. Again.”

Anan just grinned, stepping back toward Jonet. He leaned closer to the older brother, speaking directly to his ear. The two exchanged glances, then a laugh. Anan gave Jonet another pat on the back, and turned to leave.

                Still chuckling to himself, Jonet stepped back toward Nefil and roped an arm over his shoulder. “And that, little brother, was Anan. Not so scary, eh? You lived!”

                Nefil’s weak smile spread a little bit, his pulse finally beginning to slow. “He’s… nice. I like him. I… thank you, for getting that out of the way for me.”

                “Oh, please. Don’t get all mushy. No time! We need to get you a meal, and we need to get you a drink, and most importantly, we need to find you a nice older girl for you to share that drink with.”

                “O-Older? Why older? I--Wait, why am I sharing my drink in the first place?” Nefil realized his confusion was visible on his face, because his brother immediately bubbled over with laughter.

                “Because, Nefil. Just because. Trust your older brother. Now, follow me. We’re going to meet someone special.”

*             *             *

Jonet led Nefil through the crowd once more, around another tent and behind a hut, and before long, Nefil had no idea which direction was which and where they’d gone to. At one point, Jonet had stopped him suddenly, sprinting off to greet some friends and coming back with a fried dough ball in each hand. Nefil had devoured his with such earnest that he found himself a little embarrassed, but he couldn’t deny how much better he felt with a bit of food in his stomach.

Not long after, Jonet led Nefil around another tent, only to place his hand behind him and stop his brother short. Stepping back, he leaned close to Nefil and pointed out toward a circle of people huddled around a large, steaming clay pot. “See that, on the far right?”

Nefil squinted, leaning forward and straining to catch sight of something, anything, significant. He gave up before long, shaking his head in defeat.

Jonet grinned. “The girl, dummy. Between the old man who looks like a dumpling and the lady with all the muscles. That’s Nali. I’ve been trying to talk her into coming back with me for two years, now. You’re going to meet her, and you’re going to be polite but not too much, okay?”

Nefil felt a lump in his throat, and his hands felt instantly clammy. He looked back toward Nali, then toward his brother, then toward Nali, again. She had to be about his brother’s age. She was short and slight, with soft features and a rounded face. Her hair was cut short, and though he couldn’t hear her from here, he could see she was shaking with laughter in the way his brother did after far too much fermented tea.

A sneer crossed Jonet’s features, and he spoke straight into his brother’s ear. “Beautiful, isn’t she? You like her?”

Nefil felt the blood rising to his face. “N-No! I mean, she… I—”

A coarse laugh burst from Jonet’s lips. He ruffled his brother’s hair, shaking his head. “Oh, relax. She’s nice… ish. Go talk to her. I’ll catch up to you, okay?”

Nefil’s eyes widened and his stomach sank. “Wait, you’re leaving me??”

His older brother smirked in response. “Oh, no. I would never. You know what, let’s forget about this. There’s a really great—hey, do you see that?”

Nefil blinked, turning quickly to follow his brother’s pointing arm. No sooner than he turned, he heard Jonet’s mocking laughter and the sound of hurried footsteps. Whipping back, he watched his brother’s back disappear behind a nearby tent, dust still hanging in the air from his footsteps. “Jonet! Joneeeet! Damnit, what are you—“

But Jonet was already gone.

With a heaving sigh, Nefil glanced slowly back toward the nearby fire. Nali was looking his way, her chin nested in one hand and a small clay cup in the other. When she caught his glance, her head rose and she gave him a small wave.

Oh, gods. Nefil turned away, taking one deep breath, then another. He swallowed heavily, and wondered for a moment if he’d be revisiting his meal. Oh, gods. Oh, gods. Closing his eyes for a moment, he thought of his brother, and he couldn’t help but feel a wave of anger coupling with his nausea. All this trip, Jonet had been teasing him, tricking him, embarrassing him, and—Anan. He introduced him to Anan.

That… went well. Surprisingly well. It wasn’t nearly so bad, once he’d gotten it over with.

Slowly, hesitantly, Nefil looked back toward Nali. She was still watching him, and while he couldn’t make out her expression from this distance, something about the lazy way she was perched on the ground made her seem… expectant.

She knew.

Gods damn his brother.

With a deep, quivering sigh, he took a step forward. Then another. He settled for a slow, intentional pace, trying his best to seem relaxed.

Nali glanced away, trading words with the muscled woman beside her. Another laugh shook her, and her body shifted away from the approaching boy. She took a sip from her cup and closed her eyes.

Nefil was close enough, now, to see she was smiling. Close enough to see the rich blue-green on the outsides of her arms, on her fins, and on her back. Starting at where her cropped hair gave way to her neck, a thick, dark stripe ran down her back—a blue so deep it was almost black. Her colors reminded Nefil of the forest bathed in morning light, and the sharp, angled tattoos on her cheeks told him she knew the forest better than most.

Nali was a hunter, just like his brother.

Nefil realized he was standing not more than a single stride away. He tried to gulp down the lump in his throat. His mind swirled over a hundred possible greetings. His lips parted to speak, but nothing came out. His mouth fell closed. Oh, gods.

And then she glanced back toward him. The black ink on her white cheek glistened in the sunlight. “Oh, hey there.” Her head tilted a bit, a sweet smile spreading across her lips like an ocean wave as she twisted lazily at her middle to lean toward him.

Ohhhh goooddsss. “I… uh… hi! I’m… I’m Nefil. N-Nice to meet you.” No sooner than the words left his mouth, he felt himself cringing a bit. What a horrible introduction. He may as well have—

“Oh? I’m Nali.”

Nefil blinked, silently surprised at how easy it really was to get the name of someone so pretty. His fingers twiddled, and his lips twitched a few times before sputtering a reply. “Your tribe has been… very welcoming. Th-thank you.”

He watched as her smile grew, taking on a subtle ferocity that made him feel smaller and smaller with each passing moment.

“Mm. You’re quite welcome. You’re here with the other young men from Nek’Shal, right? The dark ones?”

He nodded hastily, his mind grasping desperately for some semblance of a normal reply. “Y-Yeah. We came here for the festival. My… my brother he… he told me stories. He wanted me to come, since I… since, uh—”

A quiet giggle shook Nali. “Here, drink this. It’ll help you relax.” The cup in her hand rose toward Nefil, half-filled with a clear, rose-tinted liquid.

Nefil felt a sharp pang of apprehension pass from head to toe, as if the very drink itself could not be trusted. He glanced up at Nali, then back at the drink. Not accepting would be rude, and he’d heard stories of the festival tea, and…

Another giggle. “Go on, take it. You’ll like it.”

His breathing stopped. He could feel the tremble in his fingers as he took the cup and forced himself into a polite nod. Slowly, carefully, he lifted the cup to his mouth and tilted just a hint of the rosy fluid out of the cup.

It was… delicious. His eyes widened for a moment, then fluttered shut. He drank more. Whatever this was, it was sweet as nectar, tinted with a hint of tartness and a bitter aftertaste that did little more than make him want more. It wasn’t long before he’d finished the cup, and it wasn’t until he opened his eyes did he notice the sudden tingle washing over him.

His head tilted slowly to one side. He blinked as the world moved below his feet.

Nali was giggling again, but the sound had taken on an almost mocking tone. Reaching over, she took Nefil’s hand and gave it a gentle tug.

Her fingers were coarse and calloused. Nefil looked at them for a moment before realizing she wanted him to sit. With a wobbly nod, he dropped heavily to his knees. Squatting in the grass, he shook his head a little and blinked again. The world was moving a little less, now.

“You’re not supposed to chug it, silly.” Those coarse fingers drifted to his cheek, touching the smooth, rounded lines that displayed his chosen trade. “You okay? I didn’t think you’d inhale it.”

Nefil nodded, then nodded, again. A soft smile slid into place. His toes felt weird. “You were right. I… feel better.”

With a knowing smirk, Nali gestured toward the old dumpling man, who quickly made some room for Nefil around the fire. She tugged at the young man’s arm until he crawled forward, and no sooner than he settled into another squat was she shoving a bowl into his hands.

It was full of some kind of thick stew, bits of meat and heavy vegetables floating invitingly about as the bowl wobbled in his hands. He stared for a moment before lifting the spoon for a taste.

Nali watched for a moment, that same knowing smirk on her face. After the bowl’s contents had been ravished, she took it and set it by the fire with the other empty dishes. “There you go. How do you feel? The dream tea will make sick, if you don’t eat.” She paused for a moment. Her face drew close to his ear and she lowered her voice. “This is your… first time with it, isn’t it?”

Nefil leaned his head back until he could see Nali’s pretty face. Then he smiled again. “Yeahhh. I was… kind of afraid, last time we had a festival. And the time before. And… and before that, I wasn’t…”

Nali touched his cheek, again. “You received your marks last thaw, right?”

He blinked, glancing around as if looking for the source of this knowledge. He leaned back toward her, whispering not as quietly as he was hoping to. “How’d you know that?”

A harsh laugh shook Nali, and it was a long time before it left her. She looked back at Nefil with a sloppy grin. Reaching toward him, she plucked the cup she’d given him off the ground. From a stone pot hanging over the fire, she poured more tea. She took a sip, then another, and handed it back to Nefil. “Remember, drink slow.”

Nefil regarded the tea for a long moment before taking another sip. He managed to stop himself after the third, and he set the cup back down. A moment later, he felt the world start to move again. A low grunt left his lips, and he wobbled a bit before slumping down, head in his hands.

Nali was laughing again. It reminded him of his brother, for some reason. Jonet laughed that way. Jonet—oh. Oh. Jonet told Nali about his marks. Oh.

His face turned droopily back toward Nali. “...I didn’t think Jonet talked about me. To other people, I mean. Not… not family.”

With a sweet smile, she stole back the stone cup. “Oh, come on.” She took a sip. “He’s proud of you. You should know that, by now. He tells everyone about you.”

The young man felt his face flush, and his eyes found the grass below. After a brief silence, he sought out the tea. “…He always looks out for me. I’m lucky.” His gaze fell to the grass below his feet. He took another sip and closed his eyes.

And then he felt a warm giggle against his ear. “Oh yes, he looks out for you. You know, he said I’d like your color. Like Lilacs.”

Nefil’s eyes widened. His head grew light, and he drew away quickly, shrinking down in place. “I… I’m not…”

Nali closed the gap he’d made in a slow, deliberate motion. She drew her lips back to his ear. “He was right. You’re cute.” 

Her voice carried through his spine like a moist shiver, and before he could draw away, he felt the tug of teeth on his earlobe. He felt a gasp leave his lips, and his body jerked away of its own accord, eyes wide and his face a deep pink.

Nali just giggled. A smile graced her features that was so innocent, so innocuous, that Nefil found himself doubting his own senses. Something was happening to him. Something weird. Maybe he’d had too much tea. What just happened? He looked back at his cup, then back to Nali, and an overwhelming confusion took him.

Course fingers ruffled through his hair. Nali stood. “Hey, Nefil. I need to find your brother. I have to talk to him about the festival. Stay here, ok? We’ll be back for you in a bit.”

Before he could even find the words to protest, Nali was sprinting away, bouncing on her feet like a rabbit in play.

Nefil was alone, again.

Oh, gods.

*             *             *

The sun was beginning to set. Nefil sat cross-legged on the ground, his head heavily nested in both hands and his eyes trained toward the sky. He was watching the point where the sun left the edge of the world and the clouds bled red and orange. The light seemed to dance and shimmer, twisting in rhythm with the beating drums that had played since that afternoon. On the ground by his feet lay the stone cup, emptied for the fourth time.

After a long while, he turned his gaze back toward the fire. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a figure drawing near. Blinking, he glanced past the flames. A young woman was approaching in ceremonial garb, her face hidden behind a mask fashioned from the skull of a deer. Around her neck, wrists, and ankles hung flowers and bones and beads, and her sole articles of clothing were the leather straps that hung from the front and back of her belt.

Wordlessly, the figure made its way between the fire and the fading sun, casting her shadow across the fire and the faces around it. His eyes widened for a moment when the shadow began to twist and churn, but after a moment, he realized that its owner had begun to dance. The music had grown louder, and louder still, the musicians drawing near as the spirit of the deer gave thanks for the season.

The music grew faster, the dancing more vibrant. The body chosen by the deer spirit moved with such carnal vigor that it seemed caught in the throes of a lover, unseen and unseeable, perceptible only to the blessed one before him. Nefil felt a stir in his spine, in his stomach, between his thighs and in his toes. The music kept growing louder, and the edges of the blessed one seemed to blur, her movements fading into the bleeding sky and drifting into another realm, another place, a kingdom that spoke of life and song and pleasure and ecstasy.

Nefil felt his eyes growing moist. One of his hands broke free from his chin and scrubbed at his face. His heart was sinking, trapped by longing, a deep, unattainable lust for a land of beauty and peace where the spirit of the bear ushered the dead into another life, another existence, free from the trappings of flesh and blood. A place where the spirit of the deer could share its love, and the spirit of the hawk could rest its wings and careful gaze.

Nefil felt something warm on his shoulder. A grip, soft and comforting despite the coarseness of the fingers composing it. When the shape of Nali appeared, a gentle smile topping her sharp features, he still felt himself jump. He heard Nali chuckle, then his brother, and he found himself looking about for the source of the second sound.

Jonet appeared not long after, squatting beside Nali so that she was seated between him and Nefil.  The older brother glanced at the younger, and his lips twisted into a wicked grin. “I see you liked the tea.”

Nali giggled again, then leaned closer to Nefil, her hand on his cheek and her thumb under his eye. She pulled at his eyelids, opening his eye wide, and a moment later her face screwed up as a harsh laugh shook her shoulders. “Ohh, gods. He’s had a lot. He’s totally gone.”

Nefil felt himself sharing a sloppy smile. He leaned toward Nali, closer and closer, before nearly losing his balance and righting himself with a laugh. “It’s all your faaaaaault. It’s deliciousss.” His eyes narrowed accusingly. “But now it’s all gone. Where do I get more of this stuff?”

The older brother covered his mouth with his hand, only to burst with laughter.

Nali’s laugh joined in not long after, collapsing onto the ground and clutching her stomach.

Jonet doubled over, wheezing for his breath, only to crack up again. He opened a single eye, spotted the look on his brother’s face, and was gone, again.

Nefil crossed his arms, doing his best to look offended. “Hey. Hey! You both left me all alone. What was I s’poseda do? Not have tea?”

When Nali finally managed to catch her breath, she rolled lazily toward Nefil and grabbed at the cup. With a heavy grunt, she pushed herself into a squat and checked the tea pot. Someone had refilled it, and Nefil hadn’t noticed. She poured more tea. Contrary to her earlier advice, she took a long sip, emptying half the cup and handing the rest to Jonet. “Here, your little brother has the right idea.”

Jonet flashed a wicked smile before downing the second half of the cup. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath as the rush came and went, and then glanced lazily toward the deer spirit. For a short time, he swayed slowly with the music. Then he leaned toward Nali with a mischievous grin.

Nefil watched his older brother whisper, but the words were drowned out by song. Then he watched Nali punch his brother in the shoulder.

“Jonet!” she squeaked, indignant. “She’s sacred!” She followed the first punch with another, then another, but she couldn’t stop herself from grinning as she pummeled the older boy.

“Hey, hey, stop! I can’t help it! Stooop!”

After a final punch for good measure, she shook her head with a giggle. “You’re a dirty heathen. I don’t know why I invite you over.”

Jonet smirked. “Because you like it.”

With a shake of her head, Nali did her best to look angry. “Not at all. You’re terrible.” She leaned back until she was halfway lying on Nefil, putting as much distance as she could between herself and Jonet. “You drag your brother here and leave him all alone with some stranger, then you go saying inappropriate things about the deer spirit. You know what? I’m gonna be friends with Nefil, instead.” Her head dropped backwards, until she was leaning over the younger brother’s arm and looking him in the eyes. “How would you like that, Nefil? Want to be friends? I’m nice to my friends, you know.”

Nefil found himself caught between a giggle and a blush. Her voice was sending tingles through his belly and fingertips, which was definitely weird and definitely hadn’t ever happened before. How could words do that? He decided it must be the tea. He drooped his face over Nali’s and gave her a big grin. “Sure. You gave me tea. We can be friends.”

Nali smirked back. One of her hands trailed up Nefil’s neck, fingertips gracing his cheek and ear before coming to rest on the back of his head. And then in a single, sudden motion, she drew her lips toward his and pulled, forcing his face into hers.

Nefil’s eyes grew wide, then fell firmly closed, a soft gasp leaving his throat as Nali bit his lip. He pressed back, his lips groping blindly, a novice motion that would have embarrassed him without so much tea.

Nali made the most of his motions, nipping and sucking at his lips, drawing another gasp, then another. When she finally pulled away, she watched as his hands clenched slowly into fists, then slowly unfurled, fingertips digging into the dirt. His breath was heavy, his gaze lost, and she gave him a knowing smirk. “No, silly. I’m nice to my friends. Ask your brother. We used to be friends.”

Jonet chuckled and shook his head. Scooting closer to Nali, he reached over and ruffled his brother’s hair. “It’s true. She’s a sweetheart. ” He reached for the cup and emptied the last of the tea pot. After finishing his half, he handed the rest to Nali with a smirk. “You can be her new friend, Nefil, but I still get first dibs.”

Nali took the cup with a wicked grin.

Nefil watched with a blank stare, his eyes still wide, heart racing so hard he could feel it in the back of his neck. His gaze slowly turned from Nali to his brother, his lips parting but his vocabulary failing him.

His first kiss. Nali had kissed him. Really. His body tingled everywhere, and he was becoming more and more keenly aware of the weight of Nali’s body against his with every second. His face felt warm. His lap burned.

Jonet give him a long glance, then grinned. “God, Nefil. You really are gone.” His eyes turned back to the deer spirit for a while, watching as her dance wound down and finally came to a stop. The dancer’s shoulders heaved, breasts rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. With a graceful bow, she excused herself. In moments, she was gone.

“Heeeyyy. Joneeeet.” Nali’s voice had risen to a whine, and she wriggled around in place, making a face at Jonet. “I’m over heeeere. Pay attention to me.”

The older brother raised an eyebrow. “I thought we weren’t friends, anymore.”

Nali returned his gaze with a sickly sweet smile. “We’re not. I’m just drunk and I want to get fucked.”

Jonet held a hand out toward Nali, his palm toward her face, making a show of ignoring the comment. A couple of heads turned around the fire, conversations briefly interrupted. Quiet laughter came and went, and an older couple seated opposite muttered something endearing about young people and drink. The comment was forgotten almost as soon as it was heard.

Nefil stared in silence, caught between desire and disbelief. His brother’s stories stirred through his memory, twisting and intertwining until they bled together into a single gnarled, lascivious tale. He shifted in place, his mouth dry and his arms trembling.

“Joneeeeeeeet,” Nali whined, again, her face twisting into a frown. “I’ve got other options, you know. I’m lying on one.”

Jonet finally gave Nali a pensive glance. After a moment, he rolled slowly at the hip, straddling Nali’s legs and planting his hands in the grass on either side of her middle. His face leaned in slowly, until it was inches from hers, and he smirked. “I guess I could oblige. But what do we do about this guy?” His head motioned toward Nefil.

Nefil’s stomach turned. He wasn’t sure if it was the earth that was spinning or the inside of his head, and he wanted so much to get up and run away, but Nali was right on top of him and they were talking about that and oh, gods.

Nali turned her head toward Nefil, regarding him thoughtfully. Sitting up just a bit, she brought her lips to Jonet’s ear, her eyes still trained on his younger brother as she spoke.

A wicked grin spread across Jonet’s face, sharp and predatory. He brought a hand to Nali’s face. “You know this is why I love you, right?”

She matched his grin with her own. “I know. Do you want the honors, or…?”

Jonet leaned back, squatting on his feet. “Oh, by all means, go ahead.”

“Oh, why thank you.” Turning toward Nefil, Nali brought her hands to his face. She pulled him close again, and planted another kiss on his cheek, then his ear. Her tongue danced around his earlobe for a moment before she finally spoke. “Hey, Nefil.”

Nefil’s hands balled into fists in the dirt, grasping handfuls of grass. His hips shifted below her, and his teeth bit down on his lip so hard he tasted blood.

The back of her hand stroked his cheek. “Your brother and I are going to go find a clearing, where he can fuck me. Do you want to watch?”

The tingle spread from his fingers and toes up through his limbs, into his torso, and up to his face. His entire body burned, yet felt numb all the same. A deep tremble set into his gut, followed by a wave of nausea. He felt himself nodding long before he knew what that meant, and soon Nali was standing and his brother was standing and they were helping him up and then he was standing. He took a step forward and wobbled a bit, took another and almost fell. He heard some laughing; Nali said something about tea and his brother was pressing his back against his belly. Nali took his arms, looping them over Jonet’s back, and he felt his brother’s iron grip on the backs of his legs.

And then he was moving through the air. He held tight to Jonet’s shoulders, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Nali was walking alongside the both of them, watching, careful that Nefil didn’t fall.

The campfire fell away. Nefil panned his head as far back as he could without feeling dizzy, watching as the fires and the throngs of people grew more and more distant. The sun had all but finished setting, the dark sky aglow with the last hints of sunset, and he watched Nali take the lead, moving by memory through pitch black woods.

The sound of music faded and faded until it was so faint, Nefil forgot it was there. His eyes fell shut in the darkness of the woods, and he felt his arms growing tired, his grip slipping. His brother stooped over, bearing most of Nefil’s weight on his back, and for a moment Nefil worried about Jonet’s back, and then he remembered Nali and then he remembered what she said, and finally he remembered why they were heading out this way. He felt a stirring between his thighs and felt his face flush, and he tried to mutter an apology to his brother below him but his words came out as mush.

He closed his eyes again, and everything was black.

When they opened, again, he was being lowered to the ground. The moon above was bright and clear, and the small clearing they’d found was bright enough to see clearly. He was being propped against a tree, and he felt his body lean heavily against it, his head still spinning. And then he heard the sound of rustling leathers, and then he remembered again, and he felt an overwhelming throb in his groin.

Nali’s voice tickled his ears. “Can you see, Nefil?”

His head rolled to the side. His brother was standing not a single pace away, back to a nearby tree, and Nali was crouched below on her knees. His eyes fixed on his brother’s arousal, thick and pale at the base and growing darker and darker until the tip, where it was almost black. His head nodded slowly.

Nali and Jonet chuckled in tandem. The former reached behind herself and fussed with the knot to her top, while the latter reached down and cupped a breast.

The knot came loose, Jonet’s hand moved for just a moment, and the top fell free. Her pert, full breasts were a little smaller than the deer spirit’s but perkier still, and topped with firm grey-green nipples. Jonet squeezed one between two fingers, and her shoulders twitched.

An involuntary moan left Nefil. He felt himself shifting in place, scooting as close to Nali as he could without leaving the tree behind him.

Her eyes met his. That same sweet, innocent smile she’d given him earlier crossed her face. And then slowly, deliberately, she leaned forward and licked his brother’s cock.

Jonet’s fingers clenched her breast, squeezing it firm. His free hand found the top of her head, and he brushed her short hair away from her face with a thumb.

Nali’s lips parted, her head easing forward as Jonet’s dark glans disappeared between her lips. She pulled back until her lips could kiss the tip, then pushed forward again, a little farther than before. Before long, she’d fallen into a rhythm, her head rocking back and forth as she took more and more of Jonet’s thick length.

Jonet’s lips parted in a quiet groan, his fingers clutching in her hair. The hand on her breast moved up to her shoulder, feeling her bare skin, tracing along her neck and ear before falling back down to her chest. He pressed a short claw against her nipple, and another shudder shook her.

Nali’s hands slid up Jonet’s calves, then his knees and thighs. One continued up his side while the other reached between his thighs, cupping his stones and rolling them gently in her palm. Her eyes fluttered open for a moment, first finding Jonet’s and then craning over to meet Nefil’s. A satisfied smile pulled at the edges of her lips.

Nefil’s entire body was trembling. It took a while for him to realize he’d crawled forward on his knees, leaving the tree behind. He was within arm’s reach of Nali and his brother, his eyes fixed on the movement of her head, the bulge of his brother’s cock in her throat every time she leaned in.

Her lips slid just over halfway down Jonet’s length, just kissing the point where dark violet gave way to milky white. Her head began to rock slightly, back and forth as she pulled with her mouth, taking more of Jonet in her throat. When she finally pulled away with a heavy gasp, she wiped at her mouth with the back of a hand, her chest heaving. Her eyes met Nefil’s, and she grinned. “Enjoying yourself?”

Nefil nodded eagerly, too lost to even give the question thought. Every muscle in his body ached to touch her, ached to be touched by her, ached for his flesh inside hers. He sat perfectly still, quivering in place, his hands clenching tight around his own thighs.

Nali drew her head beneath Jonet’s length, lips sucking at the base. She giggled when he groaned, then gasped when he dragged his claws across her chest. She let his sticky length lay across her face, then slowly drew her tongue along the underside, pausing to kiss every few inches. When she reached the tip, she gave it a few fleeting lips before engulfing it between her lips again, pushing herself until her tongue could reach his stones.

Jonet’s response was a heavy groan, followed by a fluttering gasp. His eyes fell shut, and he gently rocked his hips back and forth, thrusting into Nali’s throat as he caressed her face in his hands.

Nefil’s hands gradually slid under his own covering, his face turning pink as he grasped his own length. His hands moved slowly, just barely daring to touch, but not daring to stop, his body crying out for release. His eyes closed for a moment, and when he opened them, Nali was pulling away, spit trailing from the tip of his brother’s length to her lips.

Wiping her mouth, again, Nali glanced up at Jonet with a proud smirk.

Another long, heavy gasp left Jonet. He stood still for a moment, and then his hands slid slowly down her neck, onto her shoulders. And then, without warming, he gave her a sudden shove.

Nali yelped as she toppled backwards, falling into the grass just in front of Nefil. A drunken giggle followed, then a sharp squeak as Jonet roughly pulled her loincloth free and tossed it aside. She crossed her legs, rolling toward Nefil. With a hungry croon, she reached over to the knot that held his sole covering in place.

Nefil watched, frozen, as Nali yanked the knot apart. The leather that covered his burning flesh was pulled free, and Nali’s fingers traveled up his thigh before trailing flittingly over the tip of his length. He felt his hips push and his belly tense, but just as quickly, her hand was gone.

 Jonet had dropped to his knees below her. Gripping her knees, he rolled her onto her back and pulled them apart.

Nefil’s eyes caught the glisten of her fluids between her thighs, her blue-green folds swollen and moist. He watched as his brother crawled over her body, his legs between hers, his length still slick from her attention. He watched as Jonet reached down with one hand, guiding his glans down her wet slit until it gave. He watched as his brother pushed half of his length into Nali in a single shove, drew back, and pushed himself in to the hilt.

Nali’s eyes fluttered shut, her head rocking back as Jonet’s hips clapped against hers. Her hands slid down his back until they reached his rear, and she gripped him tightly, pulling him ever closer, ever harder, each harsh thrust building on the last. Her body shook and her breasts rocked, a heavy breath leaving her at the height of every motion.

Jonet buried his face in her neck, teeth finding her shoulder and biting down. His claws dragged down her sides, leaving streaks of pink against her blue-green flesh. His toes dug into the dirt, searching for any kind of leverage, his back arching with each plunge. With a flustered grunt, he pushed himself up on his hands, claws sinking into the dirt below. His head rocked back, eyes falling shut for a long while, his body surrendering to mindless need.

Nefil found himself crawling closer, closer still, until he was perched in the dirt just inches away from Nali’s shoulder. His gaze was glued to the point where his brother’s thick, hard flesh entered hers, dark violet against a rich blue green, the moonlight glistening against the spattered fluids on Nali’s mound. His right hand was gripping his own length tightly now, his left his stones, his body so close to the edge yet so far away. The tea had left him numb and sensitive all at once, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find release.

Nali didn’t seem to be having that problem. Her hand shot out to her side, clutching Nefil’s arm in a vice grip as her back arched. A choked cry burst from her lips, toes curling as spasm after spasm washed over her, rocking her lithe frame.

Jonet pushed himself up, sitting on his own feet, and pulled Nali’s twitching body onto its left side so she could face his brother. Clutching her right leg to his chest, he thrust back to the hilt, and soon his hips were beating against hers. He glanced briefly at Nefil, grinned wearily, and raked his free hand down Nali’s belly before drawing his fingers to her swollen clit.

Nali’s eyes opened wide, only to roll back, her jaw falling slack as a raspy moan broke free. Her hand fell from Nefil’s arm to Jonet’s wrist, squeezing tight as his thumb moved in rough circles. Another quiver started in her toes, working its way up her spine and down her fingertips, her teeth clenching as her chest heaved.

Jonet leaned heavily forward, pushing Nali’s leg toward her chest and driving himself in at an angle, grinding against her slick walls. His pace slowed, thrusts deep and deliberate, pushing as far as he could and then pushing more. His eyes fell open when he felt Nali’s grip fall to his stones, then fluttered shut as a gasp took him. His thrusts grew harder, rocking Nali at the hip, each motion drawing a sharp breath from her lips. And then, all at once, his body seized. His teeth grit, his motions growing sharp and erratic, his chest heaving. Nali went rigid just seconds later, a choked gasp announcing yet another climax.

Nefil watched his brother’s pulsing length disappear between Nali’s slick, throbbing folds, pushed as deep as it could go as her body milked him of his seed. They lay like that for what seemed like an eternity, breath held, bodies stiff, until a loud, rough groan burst from Jonet’s lips. Finally, he pulled back just a bit, giving Nali a few slow, shallow thrusts before slipping free. A thin trail of seed dribbled from her folds, oozing down her left thigh.

Jonet collapsed on his side with a heavy sigh. A sloppy smile spread over his lips. Glancing up at his brother, he gestured weakly toward Nali’s heaving form. “Your turn, brother.”

Before he knew what he was doing, Nefil was leaning over Nali, his hand pulling at his own body in a frenzy, his mind churning with need and frustration. He felt her hand on his shoulder, and he glanced down to see her smiling up at him, that knowing smile. Her face was caked with sweat and her ears were flushed and her chest was still heaving, but she was smiling that smile at him and oh, gods did he need her. The world was spinning and nothing else mattered anymore, just this, and he needed it more than he’d ever needed anything else.

Tired hands pushed gently at his shoulders, urging him to his back. Nali crawled lazily toward Nefil, that smile growing sharper with each passing second, until her lips were just above his length. Her head tilted to one side, an eyebrow arching. “…you have a pink cock. That’s… so cute. Jonet, why don’t you have a pink cock?”

Jonet’s response was a heavy grunt and a lazy roll. Half-shut eyes craned toward Nali’s face, and he gave her a satisfied smirk. “Told you, you’d like him.”

A whimper left Nefil, his hips shifting below Nali’s face, pressing his need toward her lips. “I’m… so close…” he managed, his voice halfway between a moan and a whisper.

Nali gave him a tired grin. “Well… since you’ve been so patient… and, well, look at that thing. So cute.” Lowering her face down, she met the tip of his length with a kiss.

Nefil’s mouth fell open in a sharp gasp, his hands finding her hair and clenching down, his hips moving of their own volition. He heard a giggle come from Nali, felt it on his skin, and her lips began working down his shaft as they had his brother’s. Before long, his pulsing length was buried in her throat, enveloped in wet heat, and his fingers and toes were going numb, and his hips were pushing against her lips, and her tongue was stroking his—oh, gods. His back arched, and one of his hands fell to her shoulders, his breath growing quick and shallow, a small moan riding on each one.

Nali drew her lips free from him with a gasp, wiping her mouth before drawing her lips to the underside of his sticky length, anyway. She gripped the top half of his shaft in one hand, twisting and pulling as she nipped and sucked at the base. After a moment, she drew back, regarding Nefil with a curious grin. “Hey, Nefil. Your brother has been trying to get me to let him cum on my face since last year. I haven’t let him, but since you were so good…”

Jonet’s brow furrowed, and he managed a half-hearted frown. “Heyyyy, hey that’s not fair!”

Nali stuck her tongue out at Jonet, wiggling it around at him before returning it to his brother’s shaft. She gave it a slow lick, base to tip, then a few fleeting licks on his glans. Sinking down between his thighs, she pressed his thick length against her face, his glans to her forehead and her lips to his stones. She paused a moment, her free hand dragging down his side. “Come on, Nefil. Make him jealous,” she hissed, only to press her lips against the base of his shaft.

A loud cry burst free from Nefil as his entire body went stiff, his back arching, pressing his length against her touch. His grip found her face, then the ground, then her shoulders, and suddenly every inch of his body was caught in a spasm as his hot seed sprayed free. Long, thick strands streaked across her forehead, her hair, and down her back, hours of pent up need unleashed with such ferocity that it left him writhing. His teeth bit down on his lip, his eyes clenching shut, and it felt so good, so good it hurt, hurt him everywhere, and suddenly he was limp and his chest was heaving, and Nali was sucking on his glans and too much, too much!! His body squirmed and a cry of protest left him, but she pressed all her weight against his frame as she pulled with her mouth, pulled him in to the hilt, tugging and squeezing and drinking what was left.

Nali let her claws drag down his sides, her mouth twisting around his length. Her lips twisted and her tongue lapped, and before too long his writhing had stopped, replaced with a low, needful groan. Drawing back, she wiped her mouth again before crawling lazily forward. Her hips straddled his, her slick mound sliding against his sticky length, and her lips found the small of his neck.

Nefil felt a gasp part his lips, and his hands blindly groped for her breasts, grabbing them in firm handfuls, squeezing and feeling a woman’s body for the first time. His head was spinning, and he felt her fingers on his throbbing length, and then he felt something warm and tight and he realized she was mounting him, pushing his cock deep into her body, just where his brother had been, and he was so sure he could feel his brother’s cum and his head was spinning and—

Nali’s lips found his, biting down until she heard a hint of pain in his cry. Her hips began to churn, grinding her walls against his flesh. Each motion was marked by a wet, sticky sound, the sound of Jonet’s seed and her own cum squishing against Nefil’s rigid need. Her arms snaked below his shoulders and her head dipped back, her hips moving in short, erratic tugs as she impaled herself again and again.

Nefil’s body churned below hers, his hands finally leaving her breasts and sliding down her body, exploring even now, grasping at her rear and squeezing tight. His claws pulled down her back and his toes dug into the dirt, and he felt himself pushing back, harder and harder, the wet clap of their bodies almost enough to drown out her cries.

Nali’s body went stiff, only to shudder head to toe, and her motions grew sharper and harsher, mindless and hungry. Her lips sought out Nefil’s ear, her teeth tugging at the lobe before her tongue circled the rim. She let her gasps fall straight to his ear, straight into his thoughts, but it wasn’t enough, never enough, and soon she was whispering filthy things to him, everything she could think of. “You like, ahhh… how it feels, Nefil? Mmmn… nanhhh…. Your brother did, hnnhhahh… too…”

Every word she spoke sent hot shivers down Nefil’s spine. His grip on her hips grew tighter, firmer, his body rocking harder and harder. He felt himself slip free but couldn’t stop moving, and then he felt her hand, and then he was in her again, and he was moving again, faster and faster, and the earth rocked beneath him. His head felt light, almost as light as his hands and feet, and everything else was fire, fire and shock.

Nali drew her hands to his chest and pushed back, lifting herself above him. She threw herself back until she was sitting atop of him, her body bouncing up and down, breasts lurching. One of her hands drew below her, fingertips stroking the base of his sticky length. She glanced down a moment and saw that Jonet’s seed had pooled at the base of Nefil’s shaft and splattered from there, coating her mound and his belly and shimmering in the moonlight. A shiver took her shoulders and she leaned back, hands on his knees, her hips rocking forward and back, twisting her flesh against his.

Nefil’s mouth fell open with a shrill cry, his hands clutching at her hips and his body moving, and moving, pushing and pushing, and everything was growing stiff, again. He felt himself pushing and pushing, and soon Nali was lying on him again, and his arms were wrapped around her back and he was pushing as deep as he could go, just like his brother did, and everything was fire and he was bursting deep inside of her.

A choked gasp left Nali, her claws digging into Nefil’s shoulders. Her body went rigid once more, her hips mashed against his, pushing him as deep as she could manage. The pulse of his length inside of her sent a spasm straight up her back, and soon she was shivering and heaving above him, pushing him deeper and deeper, grinding as hard as she could.

Nefil collapsed below Nali. Nali’s collapse soon followed. Her trembling lips met his ear, kissing softly, sending shivers down his back that ended in his toe tips before leaving him altogether. The world was a blur around him, his vision a haze, and as her body calmed above him, he could feel the world already slipping away. He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, Nali was beside him, instead. Jonet was behind her, his body crushed against hers, and there was that quiet clap of hips, again. Her breath was heavy on his ear, so much joy and peace, and his eyelids were getting heavy again, and everything was growing darker, darker, until it was gone, and all that remained was black.