Musth (Patreon)

The heat of the sauna-bath area was a pervasive thing.  It soaked and seeped into every fiber of one’s being, soothing and releasing tensions perhaps unknown, searing tense skin over pulled muscles back into proper shape.  It was hard to be in pain in one specific spot when it felt like a fire was trying to burn its way from the inside out.

The hiss of the rocks doused in scented waters emitted the heavy-laden fogbanks of steam which obscured vision in almost every direction.  The dim walls could barely be recognized for what they were by the vague coloration and shape of their wooden planks.  Everything was cast in soft, candlelight so that shadows danced along every roiling cloud.

The only level at which fog did not shroud one’s vision was at eye level in the bath.  The Or'k relaxing within the low, stone-walled bathing area gave a great heaving sigh.  The back of her head thumped against a thick, padded towel used as a pillow, a similar one draped over her mountainous shoulders, heavily endowed chest, and arms.  Skin that was a deep hue of green seemed almost black in the gloom, although her hair, a shocking white despite the lack of actual old age upon her perhaps more experienced features, stood out vibrantly.

Automated jets within the pool where she rested massaged dully away at her back and shoulder blades, soothing the ache of her workout.  Maybe she had finally gone a tad overboard, but in any regard, she neither accepted the idea nor cared to even consider it not necessary to go as hard as she did.  There was a lot on her mind, and working out was the only way to channel that into something useful.  Her lower half, currently bare, was just out of view beneath the rippling, bubbling, hissing water, and despite the blazing heat radiating through her, the aches there still would not dissipate.

Aches she could handle, when they came off a strenuous strength training session, or even a good wrestling match down at the Or'ks-Only athletes bar: Tusks.  Aches like these, however, could not be dispelled just by throwing around heavy weights, other Or'ks like herself, or even the hot water.  The pains of being a woman, a jilted one at that, in need, and having worked so long against being considered weak to her urges, gnawed away at her even now.

She rolled her black and yellow eyes up to the misty ceiling, watching spirals and towers of steam roll, fall, and rise again like the growth of empires of bygone ages.  Back when things had been simple.  Back when Or'ks were Or'ks, Elves were Elves, and everything was supposed to make sense.  Then she snorted.  She wasn’t that old: the days of Unification had ended all worldwide racial wars in pursuit of harmony, cooperation, and…interbreeding over a century ago.  In the end, it really did come down to sex.

Sex.  Sometimes she wondered if it really was worth all this trouble.  Worth it for being a thing easily condemnable or resentable?  A twinge inside of her made her blow out her full, scarred lips over her heavy tusks.  Those were the words of a woman who tried to pass off her extended dry spell as anything other than what it really was.  Easier to call it a man being the worst kind of asshole, or racial stereotypes not being quite as dead as one thought, or at the very least, not a deal breaker.  Sidhe were graceful and loved music, Dvengr liked facial hair and drinking, and Or'ks were big, strong, and rough.

Easy to call it silly, childish even, when all Gasha wanted in the world was to get laid.  It permeated everything about her, especially how others saw her.  Anyone could, and had, often whispered about her in passing as she dominated the gym as if it were her own personal jungle, battlefield, and prison.  She always heard them hissing away like little snakes, “Wow does she need to get laid.”

The urge to rise to those comments was constant, but her membership was already hanging by a thread as it was.  Or'ks were allowed to be scary, but not actually threaten people.  And what little self-control she had was being devoted to only being the former.  People seemed to be set to death on trying to find out her last button.  She wouldn’t even be there anymore at all after terrorizing the gym and often disregarding membership rules because of a growing lack of care if it hadn’t been for a very special set of circumstances, or more rather, one very specific source of circumstances.

The door to the sauna creaked open and she looked up sharply.  Soft sounds of bare feet, barely as loud as a whisper, trailed across the stone floor outside the bathing area.  So she had been right.  Every night, like clockwork.  Looks like she wasn’t a half-bad stalker at all.  Then again, stalking a stalker was a seriously interesting challenge.

That twinge from before redoubled as she heard, then smelled, then finally saw him weaving his way through the mist.  Pale, almost wraith-like in the wavering heat, his bared skin was almost as vibrant as her hair, his own no longer in its usual shoulder-length ponytail and instead left to hang haphazardly about his distracted, miles away face.

Eyes, far sharper than hers, gleamed wetly in the foggy gloom, seemingly unable to see her through that veil of self-imposed grief.  With her remaining completely still, her quarry continued on around the stone perimeter of the bath completely unaware of her as he shrugged off his fluffy white robe, remaining clad in only a towel wrapped around his waist.  The robe he hung up on a hook on the wall and then he turned to begin climbing gingerly into the hot water.

His long, pale, toned legs slid into the bath with barely even a sound.  He had crossed maybe two strides into the water, slowly growing deeper by the step, when his keen gaze, one of his species’ most well acknowledge traits, finally pierced the gloom enough to become aware he was being observed.  Eyes that never had the courage to meet hers did so across that heated, fog-shrouded pool.

Deep inside, her nerves tightened into little fists, but she was not going to let fear, indecision, and misplaced anger distract her tonight.  Tonight, she wanted answers.  One way or another, she would get them.

“Hello?” called his soft voice.  She had heard it ever so rarely that each time, each word, was like a low note of music.  For a Sidhe, he had a surprisingly rich, heavy voice, not deep, just masculine in its own unique way.  “Is someone else th-?” he cut off as he finally spied her short combed-over crest of white hair.  He clammed up at once, eyes wide, hand gripping the waistline of his towel that he had been about to disrobe of.

They stared at each other for a long moment, Or'k and Elf.  Tension gripped the room as heavily an air as the hissing steam, hot and nearly uncomfortable.  A silence stretched before them for what felt like minutes but was in fact maybe only seconds.  She opened her lips to speak but no words came out, forcing her to swallow softly.  She thought she had been prepared already, but apparently not enough.

“I…uh, excuse me,” he broke out first.  His eyes finally tore away from her face, and for once she noticed only staring at that and not guiltily creeping all over her hulking form.  Gazes like his weren’t completely unforeseen by others, but exactly his could never be replicated by anyone else.  A hunger that could not be sated but remained just out of reach as if still possible.  Fear of reaching out only to be slapped down again.  It seemed fear was winning out for him yet again.  He turned to go.

“Wait,” she grunted.  As if a weight had fallen over his shoulders, he froze in place, like a statue of ice somehow unmelting in this heat.  “Sit, Jaey.”

Back mostly turned to her, Jaey’s long ears practically danced underneath his heavy head of hair.  He had been probably unaware she knew his name, but he probably had hoped for over a month now that he was as invisible as a ghost.  After their last, rather unfair, encounter, she knew that he was not prepared in any way for this so soon.  Truth be told, neither was she, but she was tired of waiting for a change in her life; Or'ks did not wait, they took charge of their destinies.

“Please.”

That word alone shocked him out of solidity.  He quivered all over and turned slightly back around towards her, his expression wide-eyed and wary, completely unsure.  His eyes flickered towards the distant doorway as if in longing, but held and returned back to her again and again by a very different kind of longing.  He wet his lips, and she was surprised at how soft and pink his tongue looked.  Or'k tongues didn’t look like that.

“I don’t…know if that’s a good idea,” he parsed out through prolonged pauses for breath.  “I can wait outside or something.  Not…parse you out.”

Gasha’s dark eyes narrowed.  Her legs shifted beneath the surface of the water as that instinctive tickle danced inside of her, slowly spreading open.  She leaned toward him across the pool, practically having crossed it halfway already for her size.  What to him was a medium-sized bathing area to her was barely large enough to spread out her legs onto the opposite shelf.  She lifted a lip over one tusk more prominently and settled her arms back onto the shelf behind her.

“Sit.”

Jaey sat, seemingly unaware or conscious of the decision to do so.  He tried to rise but paused and ceased doing so at a growl from her.  He jumped in place as one of her feet lifted and slid heavily up against his thigh, trapping him partially against the side of the pool.  Its dark shape, like a serpent, stretched across the bath, now connecting the two of them under the water.  His skin was so smooth under her calloused heel, and he quivered whenever she felt her hard, weathered, scarred skin trail directly over his.

“We need to talk,” she began, tapping his thigh beneath the sodden towel he still wore over his nakedness.  No one wore clothes to the sauna.  He jerked and slid a bit in the direction she goaded him to, only to continue doing so when her tapping foot followed.  In barely any time at all, she had somehow negotiated him from across from her to seated side by side, hip to hip.  An arm slid down off the rest, wrapping around him from behind but keeping the gesture, rather than seemingly intimate, as trapping.  No reason not to enjoy herself just a little.  “Don’t you think?”

“Hmm?” he jerked out, quivering as he watched her dark, claw-like nails on one huge paw trail across the surface of the bubbling water.  The ripples of her motions danced across him, tickling his hairless chest.  Seated like this, his head barely came up to eye level with her currently, barely covered chest.  Now he had nowhere to look that wasn’t her.

“We,” she started again, trying hard to hide how satisfied she felt doing so, “Need to talk.  I believe…we have quite a bit of a backlog of conversations we really should have had by now.  Or are you too shy, now that you’re getting my musk straight from the verdant source, rather than my sweaty ass print or drips on the machines out there?”

She cocked her chin slightly up, drawing his gaze frantically up from her chest that was all but shoved into his line of sight.  His neck arched back farther and farther until their gazes met once again.  She saw his long throat bob as he swallowed, and his lips parted, again showing her that flash of pink tongue behind nervous, trembling lips.

“I’m…not…” he grated out, shaking as if freezing despite the heat of the room.  His pale skin was incredibly flushed, and suddenly she realized that he could be potentially overheating.  She reached over to a dial on the wall nearby, purposefully turned up high, so that this exact entrance and confrontation could occur.  The only way to surprise an Elf was to take away their senses.

As the room immediately began to clear, leaving them in just a wooden-walled room with stone floor and a deeply recessed polished tile pool, she saw him far more clearly.  His handsome features were screwed up in confusion, indecision, and more than anything, a war between hope and crushing despair.  His eyes trailed down her face to her lips which they locked onto for a second, then down past her chin to her neck before they became distant and far away.

“What’s to talk about?” he asked, voice softer now as it didn’t need to be nearly shouted over the hissing steam from before.  “You told me to back off, leave you alone…and I kept following after anyways.”

“Cleaning up after me,” she continued.

“Cleaning up after you,” he agreed, eyes sliding closed and shame coloring his face now.

“Wiping up every drop of musky sweat I left behind on the machines I used, not wiping them up myself but, there you are, ready to wipe it all away on a towel and spray it down to mask my scent.  If a woman didn’t know any better, I’d think you were so disgusted with my odor like the rest of the crowd out there, that you had to do all of that.”  His suddenly indignant gaze shot back up to hers, but there faltered at the actual teasing note that had entered her eyes and quirked up the corner of her full if rough lips.  “If she didn’t know any better, she might think you didn’t like her at all.”

Her hand closed around his shoulder, trapping him fully in her grasp.  His shoulder hit the towel wrapped around her neck, skin sliding against the curves of her chest beneath it.  Her Musth was strongest there, well there and one other place currently, thankfully, submerged.  His eyes literally fluttered as a wall of it, undeterred even by the heavy layer of sweat beading on her forest-green flesh, hit his sensitive nostrils.  He didn’t have to inhale for her to know he had just gotten a lungful of heavily repressed Or'k woman.  A scent that produced a reaction in him that dated back centuries, to a time when Elves had served Or'ks as slaves, and, shockingly to discover for anyone, liked it.  It was only in the semi-modern day that the practice had been discontinued.

She didn’t want a slave, but she couldn’t lie and say the utter and immediate obedience she observed transformed his features for but a moment was not incredibly satisfying.  Utter relaxation and surrender flickered across his fair face before doubt wormed its way back in.  “Why…would…after what you said before?”

“What, about how I wasn’t interested in you sucking up to me?” she queried.  “How I didn’t need some Toadie following me around, trying to do me a favor?  I know my Musth aura was getting pretty bad but obsessively stalking, and cleaning up after me?  Then I come to find out, oh, he might not be doing it out of some perverted, sweat-fantasy."

His gaze was uncertain upon her, wary, ready to flee at a moment's notice.  Elves were always such flighty things, but she was starting to see, more than ever, some truth to all the old stories about how attractive they could be.

"So I hung around, watched you, just to make sure.  I mean, if you really were some deviant, I could squash you."

He nodded softly, not even ready to acknowledge new information.  That was, until, she kept going, and he realized she did indeed have more to say.

"Come to find out, if it weren't for you, management would have finally taken my bad attitude and lack of proper gym protocol by listening to that one Dark Sidhe bitch’s complaints against me.  You were helping me, hell, saving me.  This gym is all I have left in my life right now, and, while you couldn't have known that, you were protecting me.  I had to know for certain.”

His eyes fell from hers and a soft flush, different from those before, colored his cheeks, visible even in the gloom.  He seemed as if he wanted to speak but felt too embarrassed, hemmed in by her bulk as he was.

“And finally, I got my answer.  You Elves are so subtle compared to Or'ks, you really have to pay attention to notice anything out of the ordinary about your kind.  But I finally figured it out.  And if a certain Sidhe guy could have just come right out and said, ‘Hey Gasha, I wanna bury my face in your skin and huff your smell like its opium,’ it could have saved us a lot of time and trouble.  Weirdo stalkers I didn’t want to handle, would have eventually just punted you, but a well-meaning pervert living out his own personal Elf-slave to Or'k Queen fantasy?  Can’t entirely fault you on it.”

Again his gaze grew a touch steely.  “I am not a pervert,” he growled out, unbearably cutely too she wanted to observe.

“You took my hoodie home for a week then brought it back laundered.”

His face utterly fell as she shattered his facade and he blushed suddenly as bright red as the dial for the hot water could be seen, almost a cartoonishly bright shade.  "You...you knew about that?"

"Of course I did.  Haven't lost my wits after all.  Trap was easy enough to set up after I got used to your pattern of following me.  All I had to do was leave it right where I knew you'd find it, and...wait for you to take the bait."  Her eyes flashed and she chuckled, voice deep and rich as it rebounded all around the room.

He buried his face in his hands, ears shuddering and deflating at the same time.  “Oh Greater Sidhe,” he mumbled.  “I…I didn’t…I…”

Rolling her eyes and realizing maybe she had let this go on a bit too long, she rolled her arm that was draped around and across him, and abruptly he was tugged straight against her.  He jumped and tried to back away but she held him there, slowly sliding her thigh up against him, then across, lifted just up out of the water like a breaching sea monster, and lowered again, now on the opposite side of his hips.  She had in one move flawlessly trapped him between her thighs, both of which were singularly wider than his torso.

“So…you ready to talk yet?” she asked, growling straight into his hair as she effortlessly scooped him up more, slid her thighs together, and deposited him back onto her lap.  Now he had nowhere to go, both trapped and comforted in his own Or'k-Matron prison of musky-smelling, water-misted flesh.

Once again, she saw doubt, false hope, and fear rage across his face.  Then, slowly, dawning over the horizon like a tentative sun poking its head out from behind clouds it never dared to go higher than, his gaze lifted back to hers.  “You’re…not mad?”

“Nah,” she chuckled; it felt good to know it was her first genuine one since the divorce.  Her first true little spot of brightness to begin washing away all the grimy dark.  “But I will admit, I expected some…stains.”

He prickled in her grasp, almost jerking back out of it before she growled and kept him still.  “I would never!” Jaey vehemently objected.  “I…I just…” he groaned again, bravado dispelled by sheer awkwardness and as personal shame won out.  “I…knew you didn’t want me…and…if all I’d ever get of that smell you make was…that…”

Again she rolled and his face was smashed against her collarbone before he could slither out.  He jerked in shock, body utterly taut, and she waited.  Like a slowly seeping gas, she felt her Musth chip away and melt his defenses and surprise.  Quivering Elf turned into putty in her arms as gradually all his muscles went slack before he all but collapsed into her arms.  She heard deep, silent inhales and his hands gripped hard at the hem of her soaked towel.  After a minute or so, she popped him back out of her cleavage, noticing the water droplets clinging to his nose.

“That smell?” she asked, and he mutedly nodded, gasping softly.  “You know what that smell is?”

“Your…Or'k Matron Musth,” he babbled out drunkenly.  “Supposed…to be…how Elves were…enslaved to Or'ks…centuries ago.  Rather than…through entirely physical force…”

“Correct,” she grunted in amusement.  “Back in you go.”  Before he could even squeak in alarm or somehow protest, she again plopped his face into the yawning chasm of her bosom.  This time she deliberately ground the scent glands in her copious breasts against his smooth cheeks, almost like marking him, or maybe actually doing so.  

Another few shuddering, limp seconds and she extricated him again, although now he almost lurched back into her before he was able to stop himself.  “But also not entirely.  Musth comes from an Or'k’s sexual drive.  The longer we go without, the heavier it gets and the more aggressive we get.  Like bull Elephants.  And I’ve been celibate against my own will for a long, long time  Elves just naturally seem to either hate it like it was poisonous gas or love it like it was their first breath of real air.”

Jaey’s features tightened slightly back into somewhat cohesion and he blinked in surprise up at her.  “You?” he asked.  “How?”

“Well, divorce can dry up even the most powerful of rivers,” she grunted.  Memories of her recent months settling everything almost put her in a bad mood, almost.  Right now, she was hopefully working on finally leaving those behind.  “Disloyal son of a bitch left me for…”  She raised her eyebrows meaningfully.

His jaw dropped open.  “An Elf?” he breathed.  “Your husband.  Left you.  You?!  What is he, the most…idiotic…braindead…clueless…I mean…”  His words had started to flail into incoherence by then.  She grinned secretly at his babbling; she realized for all the right reasons why it was so cute.  Then he met her gaze again and his fell.  “That’s why you didn’t want anything to do with…me… Because…”

She shrugged, cutting him off by swaying her hips just a little and threatening to send him crashing back down into her chest.  “True enough.  I never cared much for Elves but I didn’t have any real hostility against your kind.  I just didn’t want to be reminded of the skinny Faerie bitch that took my son from me because she and he knew that was what would hurt me the most.  He couldn’t conquer me, so he cut his losses and moved on to some new piece of ass, and left me to pick up the pieces.”

“You…your son?” Jaey asked.  She’d never seen eyes like his that she hadn’t written off as from pity before now.  Rather than rage, she felt…glad that someone could feel so bad for her.  “How old?”

“Five,” she sighed, feeling a pang of actual sorrow pierce through the veil of anger and resentment built up around her core.  “Or'k courts award custody to those with the most significantly lucrative field of employment.  He had a solid job, and I was dealing with issues at my office over being undersexed, kinda like here honestly.  If anyone thinks I need to get laid now, they should have seen me before, back when I thought it was just us having more arguments than normal about dominance in the bedroom.  I’m not some prize to win or conquer, never have been.  Or'k tradition and physiology may make our Males strong, tough, and resilient, but our Females are just as much so to protect ourselves from them.  I wanted a partner, not someone trying to claim me as property.  You Elves would understand that.”

Jaey’s blush did falter a bit at that and he did indeed seem well aware of the struggle that had been going on ever since all Racial wars had ended, all remaining slaves released, and society allowed to grow into what it was today; an era of cohabitation, cooperation, and barely withheld sexual appetites no longer condemned as taboo.  And honestly?  Right now, she understood them.

“I guess I let what he had done color your Species to me, and that wasn't right of me.  Even if I had justified reasons, I shouldn’t have painted all you Sidhe like her.  I didn’t even know her, truth be told; some skinny harlot shows up on my then-husband’s arm, he hands me the papers, and that’s that.  I’d hate to do anything that remotely resembles agreeing with the sanctimonious, misogynistic asshole that he is, but…”

Then she leaned down a bit towards him, intentionally butting his jaw out of the way as she partially lifted him up with a thigh.  Her lips trailed across his long neck, tusks tickling and framing his jugular for a moment.  His intake of breath completely died away in shock and she allowed herself to try one tiny test nibble.  Both of them shuddered immediately and she set him back down onto her lap proper.

“Just maybe,” she growled out.  “He had a point.  Elves…well.”  She jostled him again towards her chest, this time more invitingly but he resisted and she respectfully didn’t force it.  “I think I’m coming around,” she continued.  “Question is…are you really that…enamored with me?”  He met her eyes with utter concentration.  “Or am I just the effigy of 30+-year-old Or'k thicc as a queen archetype with stretch marks and a belly made soft by childbearing that you secretly imagined in your private nighttime moments when you were all snuggled up in my Musth-soaked hoodie?”

“But I didn’t…!” he started to object but she growled again and this time, when she again lifted him to nip at his ear possessively, he calmed and quieted at once.

“But,” she continued.  “You didn’t.  I’d have smelled it even if you’d washed out the stains.  Your little…Elf…aura kind of smells like sweet fruit.  Ain’t apparently just a divorced, cellulite-riddled, muscle-head, gym-stalking Or'k with a bad attitude who has a scent to die for, is it?”

He nodded reluctantly and she rewarded him with a long, actual, kiss to the top of his head.  He let out a tiny sound that was somewhere up now in her favorites ever uttered, and she made a mental effort to make him make that noise over and over.

“Good boy, little Sidhe Musth-lover.”

The title made him actually chuckle as did she, both sharing a small dual-natured laugh before he managed to take in a steadying breath.  “Can I ask…why you were so…even before the divorce?”

“Like I said, he wanted to be the dominant one; I wanted a trade-off.  I refused to just let him do what he wanted with me. Telling me to quit the job I’d worked my ass off to earn, only taking a break for when I was heaviest into my pregnancy, undermining my income and efforts to support us on my side. We fought a lot with sex being at the crux of our issues, and the handful of times we managed to touch each other always ended in an argument.  We married for tradition not love, and just kind of hate-fucked our way through life until then.  The only good thing that came from it was my son, Uldred, who I now only get to see every other weekend until the appeal.  Also…I’m pretty sure my getting back into working out until I was back to being as strong as, or even more than, him was an inherent fear of his deep down.  He liked when I was more docile in my late stages when I let him get away with more.”

Jaey’s face was screwed up in anger at her story, one that she had never really bothered to share with anyone.  She’d been better off in her mind just venting her rage into her workouts, ignoring rules and people around her to try and distract her with as heavy of weights as possible to get back to the confident woman that her ex had destroyed.  “How could he not be just as in love with how you look as I am?” he asked vehemently.  “You’re perfect.”  Then he blushed again and, shyly, one hand slid across her collarbone and down the valley caused by her mountains of green-hued mammaries.

She glowed on the inside from that and she beamed softly while his gaze was distracted by the droplets adorning her coccyx.  She pasted on a flat, bored expression by the time he managed to look back up at her.  “Eh, maybe it was being as strong as I used to be when we first met,” she pondered aloud.  “Maybe it was because I wasn’t as submissive as when I was pregnant.  Or maybe it was just that I had a bigger dick than he did.”

Her thigh jerked beneath him suddenly, jostling him and he fell against her before scrambling back up, eyes even somehow wider than they’d been this entire time.  “Wait…w-what?” he asked.  His eyes flashed down across her body to where he was seated, trapped between the possibilities of what she’d said.  It wasn’t a well-kept secret that some Or'ks had dual sexual natures, Male and Female alike, thus leading to less dimorphism between the genders.  Even if the stereotypes remained for some, archaic minds.

Her guffaws shook the room.  “Why don’t we get out of here?” she growled heatedly.  “You look like you’re gonna pass out if it gets much hotter in here…and I could use a wash.  Wanna come with me into the showers and…see where it takes you?”  Her eyes sparkled as she finally, for the first time in years since her very first boyfriend in junior high, allowed herself to flirt openly again.

Jaey, her personal Sidhe stalker, trembled, and then with the utter surrender of a man who had found what he’d always hoped for but never dared to imagine could be real, he wrapped his arms around her wide shoulders, fingers not even able to touch at the back, and buried his face in her throat.  Her Musth filled his senses: nose, mouth, even his tongue even though he had yet to actually caress her with more than breath.

Up she rose from the water, one arm curling easily under his towel-clad waist, and like that she carried him, weight utterly negligible, from the sauna to the shower rooms.  They had…a bit of actual catching up to do from awkward introductions through observation alone.  As the curtain door slid closed, she divested herself, and him, of any and all remaining coverings, leaving him to stand with her under the spraying nozzles above even her towering physique, as naked as she was.  Pale flesh shone in comparison to dark green hide, the most beautiful contrast in the world.  His gaze was trapped upon her upper half as she dominated his field of vision, so wide that only looking at their legs would have revealed that she wasn’t actually alone in the shower from anyone who dared to pass by.

“You weren’t…serious before were you?” he whispered up at her as she took great delight in stroking his fair skin with a heavy-handed grip, relishing how soft his athletic but limber frame was.  Sidhe really did carry muscle differently.

Gasha arched a pale eyebrow and then stepped back just a touch, nodding down her rippling, heavy frame to her lower half.  His eyes went wide as they traveled each and every bulging muscle, vein, curve, and stretch mark, especially those on her forever-seemingly softened gut, and she clapped her thighs together loudly as they came under his sight fully.  His expression became ravenous as if a starving man had been handed a fork and knife after so long and told to dive in.

“Y-you know…” he trembled against her, hands pressing into her folds, curves, and hardened swells of immense muscle that put to shame anything anyone else he might have fantasized over in the past.  “Elves don’t…believe in gods and…prayer and…such…organized religion is…just a…sham to most of the Sidhe.”

“Well ain’t that interesting,” she growled in a lust-filled chuckle.  She shook some of her thick white locks out of her face.  “Why do you mention it?”

“Because…I just found a church I want to worship at…” he growled right back, soft to her harsh but no less filled with need.

Her dark eyes sparkled and she reached up, grabbed a hold of his thick hair in one giant hand that could have palmed his whole skull like a sports ball, and began pushing him down.  He went gladly, soon kneeling before her as warm shower water trickled down her huge frame, like rainwater down a statue.  She parted her legs just a bit as he rose up on his knees to have the perfect angle for viewing, balancing his hands on her enormous thighs.

“Get to servicing then…little Elf,” she rumbled.  “Your…Queen demands you memorize her Musth.”  She had to admit and surrender to the raw sexuality of the secret shame of her preferred late-night videos that scratched the itch but never truly enough.  A lust, a fetish, founded in actual historical records, apparently shared in their utter other side of the pairing of her and her Jaey.

Eagerly, he leaned forward to scent right at one of her musky smell’s most powerful sources.  Mouth already hanging open, he looked up her now even more towering, tree-like bulk to her sparkling eyes so high above.  “Permission to pray?” he asked.

Gasha’s expression flared with lust finally allowed to be let out and she all but shoved him forward by her grip on his thick head of soft, downy hair.  “Just don’t take…too long…down there…” she groaned immediately at the soft texture of that tongue as it began exploring right where both of them wanted it to.  “I’ve got…way more plans…for you…”  She let go of his hair to allow more freedom of movement, instead just petting it and occasionally thumbing his ears, which made him quiver all the more.  “You’re flexible, right?”

Sidhe eyes met Or'k and both of them giggled before returning to the rapture of their moment.  Falling in love wasn’t always an at-once thing.  Sometimes, it just took a bit of Musth and some harmless stalking on both sides to find out what it was really supposed to feel like.  Gasha had to admit; this was better in every way, and they were just getting started.