Chapter 10

The first expedition, proposed by the Emperor and enthusiastically supported by Huxian, would have involved several lesser dragons carrying an entire company of the finest Oni soldiers, backed by court wizards, astrologers, the entirety of the harem, and enough spices, drugs and silks to make a pavilion every stop. The second expedition, proposed by Qasim – speaking with the hard nosed experience of an trained astro from the more practical world of Stark – involved him, Ning, and Hua traveling rapidly, by themselves, without drawing attention.

The third expedition, the expedition that set out from the capitol of the Dragon Empire, was a middle ground that left no one happy. Well.

Hua was happy.

But Qasim was growing increasingly certain that there existed nothing on either Earth that could make Hua unhappy for longer than a pet on the head – something that Hua could wheedle out of Qasim with an alarming ease. Still, Hua was the only one who was pleased with the expedition, which contained too many people for Qasim’s liking and too few for Huxian, who had been tasked by the Emperor to be his professional assistant and surveyor. Huxian, a squad of Oni guards, and a single member of the royal harem – Ning. This status made Ning unhappy, as court protocol required her to be bedecked in a golden torque, golden bikini, loincloth, and nothing else for the procession to the gates of the city, where the Emperor announced that his adoptive son, the Glorious Prince of Heaven, would be taking his draconic companion northward, to survey and assess the newly conquered lands of the Rus, to ensure that all governors were acting with proper filial piety, and that taxes were being collected properly.

The crowd, who had mostly been here to see the dragon Hua, bedecked in silken sheets and an alarming contraption that looked like a silken gazebo strapped to his broad shoulders, had applauded with gusto as Huxian had stepped onto and into the gazebo with her soldiers and Ning, while Hua had reached out with his hand. So used to his draconic companion being the size of a small cat, Qasim took a moment to step onto a hand the size of a shuttlecraft’s wing. Once he did, Hua placed him on the space behind his head, and then launched himself into the air with a sinuous wiggle and a beat of wings that were far too small according to most laws of physics that Qasim knew.

To Qasim’s complete shock, being behind the head of a dragon turned out to be the finest way of traveling he had yet seen. It lacked the claustrophobia of getting aboard an airplane and the dreary sameness of space travel and the crushing weight of going from orbit to ground or ground to orbit. Instead, it was merely a smooth breeze, most of it being deflected by the curve of Hua’s head and absorbed by his furred ruff, and the view of the whole of China sweeping below him. A China that looked like it had been painted by fantasy authors with a larger eye towards spectacle than realism: Monuments the size of mountains loomed below them as they soared away from what he was fairly certain was Beijing.

The land panned by beneath them as Hua said, his voice calm and ruffled. He didn’t sound as if he was flying – hell, he sounded more out of breath when he was scampering along the ground after Qasim: “Isn’t this marvelous?”

Qasim tried to not sound too excited – but found himself unable to hide the eagerness in his voice. “It ... it is quite nice.”

“Ahh, I love flying!” Hua wriggled – and then dove forward, which provoked cries of alarm from the gazebo strapped to his back. Qasim grabbed onto his ruff, his fingers sinking into the thick, white fur.

“Hua! Hua! Hua! We have passengers!” Qasim shouted.

“Right! No loops!” Hua said, then laughed. “Sorry, forgot!”

He leveled out and began to climb gently back up, his tail narrowly clearing the peak of a mountain. Qasim wondered at that – he thought he should have been cold, this high up. But he felt nothing but warm and comfortable. Hua, laughing, said: “Well, once we get to the first stopover, I can fly loops then.”

“Only if no one is on your back,” Qasim said.

“But loooops!” Hua said, craning his head back and around, managing to transfix Qasim with one of his huge, slitted eyes. “They’re almost better than sex. You’ll love them, promise.” Qasim pursed his lips at him. “Come onnn Qasim! You should try having fun once in your life.”

“I’ve had fun in my life,” Qasim said, his voice stiff.

“Name the single time you’ve had fun ever in the history of the universe,” Hua said, sniffing. “Er. Universes.”

Hua almost pointed out that he had made love to Ning while the People’s Shield had been tumbling and out of control in space. Instead, he pursed his lips and arched an eyebrow. “I find learning to be quite fun,” he lied. “Especially learning magic.”

“Uuuuugh!” Hua writhed from side to side in the air, causing the gazebo to shift on his back – which provoked a single angry shout from Huxian, which was mostly lost in the wind. “Fine. When we land, I’ll be sure that you have all the fun you can possibly have. So much fun, you’ll choke on it. So much fun that you won’t even know how to hold all the fun that you are having!”

“Is that a threat?” Qasim asked.

“Kind of, maybe!” Hua exclaimed, then wriggled, his wings beating to push them through the air even faster. The landscape below them showed all the diversity that Qasim had never seen in China – but had known was there. They flew above a vast desert. They flew across mountains, carved with the faces of kings and gods. They flew above jungles that grew thick and lush and, as the sun fell, the jungle began to glow. But Hua flew down towards a city that was nestled between several rivers and pressed up against the edge of some rocky foothills.

As Qasim swung himself off Hua’s back and Huxian – her silken dress ruffled by wind and shakes – emerged from the gazebo, the oni soldiers started to ready themselves. They swung down using thick ropes that were thrown out of the gazebo with significant force, and soon, they had arrayed themselves into a formidable looking formation, kneeling to Qasim as he stepped away from Hua’s heaving side and into the evening chill that pervaded in the air not immediately warmed by the dragon’s body heat.

“Did you have a good flight, Huxian?” Qasim asked.

“Well enough,” Huxian said, then brushed her fingers through her long, silvery hair. She leaned in close, whispering softly. “Thank you for keeping him from flying in loops.” Her tails twitched in agitation and her fox ears were pinned so hard against her head that they were nearly invisible. Qasim chuckled, dryly.

“It was a full time job.”

Once Ning had disembarked – disembragoned? - Hua shrank with an alarming popping noise, air rushing to fill the space once occupied by an immense dragon. In that space there was only Hua, the size of a kitten and looking irritatingly adorable. He sprang from the ground to Qasim’s shoulder as the gates to the city opened and men emerged in armor, carrying spears. They formed into an honor guard and Qasim took a moment to blink a few times. The men weren’t the oni that he had expected.

Each was about five to four feet tall. Each had bright yellow, clawed, scaled feet, black tufts of fur beginning at their knees and sweeping up to cover their bodies, which were feathered and furred in equal measures. Their arms had feathers that swept outwards, like those on a wing, and their faces had beady black eyes and curved, yellow beaks. They were, in a word, a combination between a crow and a human being. And they stood at perfect attention, while a female crow walked down the center of their formation. Qasim could tell that she was female. It was ... very obvious from the low cut of her silken dress and how very taut it was and the significant ... uh...

“Birds don’t even breast feed,” Ning whispered from behind him. Qasim practically felt her wince from where he stood – she had clearly followed that idea to its logical conclusion and had not liked what she saw there.

Huxian, without missing a beat, whispered in Qasim’s ear. “This is provience populated by the Tengu – immigrants from the Sunrise Islands.”

“Ah,” Qasim said as the female Tengu came to him, then bowed low, sweeping one wing outwards. This gave him a remarkable view between her midnight black breasts – lightly furred and very generous. Her silken dress hung forward just enough to show the bright, yellow tips of her nipples. Then she stood and smiled at him – a tiny upturning at the edges of her beak.

“Welcome to our humble city, Glorious Prince of Heaven,” she said, her voice unaccented, despite her beak. “I am Governor Oru Ropo, and we are pleased to give your party a place to rest on your trip. May I show you to your rooms?”

“Say ‘you can show us to your room’,” Hua whispered in Qasim’s ear.

“No,” Qasim said.

Governor Ropo blinked her bright, attentive eyes. “I, uh, of course, do you wish to see the city?”

“Say ‘we wanna see your titties,’” Hua whispered, his tail lashing eagerly.

“No!” Qasim said, louder.

Governor Ropo looked even more alarmed. She touched the tips of her wing-arms together, the feather meshing against one another with a soft shhh shh noise. “Uh, of course, you may do as you wish-”

“No, I, forgive me,” Qasim said, hurriedly. “My dragon friend is being quite rude.”

“It’s not rude!” Hua said. “I’m just trying to help Qasim have fun.”

“Fun?” Ropo blinked, then gasoed. “Ah! Yes, I see! What do you enjoy, Honorable Prince? It is a little late for a hunt or a chariot race, but there are entertainments to be found. We have singers, dancers, sanxian players...” She clicked her beak and waited expectantly. Qasim, having learned his lesson, reached out and pinched Hua’s muzzle shut with his two fingers, making his question trail off into a muffled ‘mmphmmhm!’

Qasim spoke over him: “Our rooms would be fine.”

Ropo nodded and turned, her tail feathers thrusting out and away from her rump like a skirt. The swishing motion of her hips drew Qasim’s eyes despite himself and Hua looked quite smug. Qasim could feel it, through his fingertips. Instead of reproaching himself or the dragon, Qasim instead tried to take in the view of the city around him – and he saw that, this far from the capitol, the citizens of the Dragon Empire lived much as the citizens of China had, before the revolution: The buildings looked unheated beyond fire and insulation, and the streets were fairly narrow. Tengu were out and about – sweeping, taking down laundry, cooking on these mobile carts that had fires stoked beneath them, and generally carrying on as city folk had for millennia.

Hua oohed softly – Qasim had released his muzzle – as they walked past a large building all done in red paints and gilt that looked cheap and twadry compared to the Imperial Palace, but stuck out fiercely against the whitewash and simple colors of the rest of the city. Here, a Tengu even more busty than the governor was leaning against the door, calling out: “Come to rest at the Silken Nest – we have all kinds here. Vedas, Oni, Tengu, even orcs and dwarves and brownies from the far north!”

“Ah, yes, she has a charter and a permit,” Ropo whispered to Qasim.

Qasim shrugged one shoulder. He didn’t exactly have a leg to stand on when it came to frowning at a whorehouse.

“Do you ever visit?” Hua asked – and Qasim made an abortive reach for him.

Ropo blinked – and in a remarkably calm voice, said: “Oh, only once, when I was curious.” She clicked the tip of her beak. “It turned out, I simply enjoy a male member too much. Though, the oni girl I hired did try her best with the facsimile.”

Qasim coughed.

“See!” Hua whispered to him.

Ropo glanced at him, her brow furrowing as she paused at an intersection – foot traffic stopping and drawing back to clear the way for the royal procession. “Are you quite all right, Glorious Prince of Heaven?”

“Oh, he just wants to fuck you,” Hua said, cheerfully. Qasim choked even harder.

“Does he now?” Ning asked in the silence that hung in the air.

“Well, it would be an honor to share your bed, Glorious Prince of Heaven,” Ropo said, chuckling slightly nervously. “T-Though, ha...” She glanced around, leaning in closer. Her voice was soft. “I’d need to find someone with mastery of the circle of wood and void – I don’t exactly need to lay an egg and have my husband ask questions when he returns from campaign...”

Qasim blinked at her, thrown even harder for a loop – but before he could mention that he knew that circles of wood and void, even if he had never cast the contraceptive spell that they combined to form – Hua scoffed. “I could leave him a letter. Most men love having their wives getting knocked up by princes. It means that the baby gets a royal charter when they grow up, and might even get into court. And they can still adopt them.” He elbowed Qasim’s cheek gently. “Just like the Emperor did with you, Qasim.”

“O-Oh...” Ropo said, looking like she was considering something.

Qasim pointed, fiercely. “What is that?”

Ropo turned to face what he was pointing at as Qasim shot a glare at Hua, who blinked at him in confusion. Ning, meanwhile, was covering her face with her hand. Her shoulders were quaking. The oni guards were all grinning and even Huxian had her lips pursed harder than was necessary and her each of her seven tails quivering with mirth. Ropo turned back to Qasim. “T-That’s the night soil, sir, being collected for the farms.”

“Right,” Qasim said, through clenched teeth.

Hua narrowed his eyes. Then he nodded conspiratorially at Qasim, winked at him, tapped his nose, and winked again. Qasim felt his heart sink – and it sank for good reason as Hua turned his head around and crooned. “Also, Qasim wants to fuck you with me. To cement our bond by tapping the same gorgeous crowgirl ass!”

“Marvelous!” Ropo said.

Qasim shot Ning a look. He tried to communicate with her, in the wordless way that some people could with those that they had shared beds: Ning, I need you to act very jealous, so that I can worm my way from this. Ning nodded, subtly, then crooned.

“Oh Prince, I will miss you from my bed tonight. May I enjoy myself with Guard Captain Xaoquin?” Her finger gently played along the shoulder of the tallest, broadest shouldered, most beautiful Oni who was in the guard group – a man whose tusks were minimal, horns were impressive, and hair cascaded down his shoulders like a raven black water fall.

Qasim glared at her. Ning grinned and Hua wriggled on his shoulder. “Huzzah!”

“I can see the legends about humans are true,” Ropo said, chuckling nervously. “I, ah, I ... normally, I am not so...” She shook her head and began walking forward, her hips rolling. “Forward!” She chuckled as she did so. Her tailfeathers flipped up, to press against the small of her back, revealing the curve of her midnight black ass. Qasim tried to tear his eyes from it – but he found he couldn’t.

“Dragons are like this too,” Hua said.

“Indeed they are,” Huxian muttered.

The manor house that Governor Ropo made her home in was more reserved and smaller than Qasim had expected. It was clean, it was large enough for her servants, but beyond that, it had no real extravagances. Her servants, she explained, would be sleeping in the inns, leaving rooms free for her guests. As Ning took hold of Xaoquin’s han, Ropo started up the narrow flight of wooden stairs that led to the second story of the manor house – the place illuminated by small, guttering mage lights that looked as if they had been sculpted by some artisan decades before, their inner light grown faint and soft. In the dimness, her body took on the tantalizing vaugeness of a shadow. It became nearly impossible to tell where her skin began and her dress ended. Qasim was faintly aware of stepping through a narrow doorway – then of the door closing behind him. In the dimness, the only thing Qasim could see was the movement of Ropo’s arms – an he could hear the faint sound of silk on feathers, the puddling of the dress on the floor.

“Glorious Prince of Heaven,” Ropo whispered. “I ... just be ... it has been quite some time...”

Qasim gulped. Then he felt something lithe and soft pressing to his back.

Feminine.

Two small breasts, and the soft touch of a girl – fingers slipping along his chest. A nose nuzzling against her neck, and a voice that sounded tantalizingly familiar whispered in his ear. “Don’t worry. I’ve spied on him – he’s gentle when he needs to be.” And Qasim felt teeth nibbling at his ear. His eyes widened.

“Hua?”

Hua giggled. “I wasn’t about to be a boy while fucking a hot crow girl with you. I mean, I could. Do you like boys?”

“I-”

“Eh, then again, I haven’t been a girl for ... like, three days,” Hua said, nuzzling him before Qasim could even get the full exclamation out. Those slender fingers of hers slipped into his leggings and found his bulge, squeezing him firmly. Eagerly. “Mmm, and you have a really really nice cock, Qasim.” She nibbled him again as, in the darkness, Ropo started to step closer. Qasim felt the firmness of her breasts, the gently rasp of her beak against his cheek as, in the near darkness, she leaned in and started to stroke him – one hand on his hip, one hand caressing his bulge. Her breath drew in a sharp gasp.

“Oh my!”

“See?” Hua crooned.

“Oh my...”

“Wanna suck it?” Hua purred.

“I, uh ... I’ll have to take my human form for that,” Ropo whispered.

“D-Do you still have huge titties?” Hua asked, sounding slightly anxious.

Ropo’s chuckle was warm. “Yes, T’ien Lung Hua Ling, Celestial Dragon of the Magnificent Dawn. I do.”

Her body did not flash – there was no glow of magic. There was nothing but a shift in the pressure against Qasim’s chest, a change in the feeling of her arms brushing against him. Gone were the feathers. In their place was warm human skin, though he felt something long and curved bumping against his nose. He blinked and saw, in the half darkness, that she had the face of a very pretty, matronly woman – made unusual by the fact that her nose was nearly as long as two fingers placed, one atop the other. She grinned at him and dropped, her knees spreading as she remained poised on her toes with the grace and athleticism of a much younger woman. Her breasts bumped against his knees and he felt her hard, hard nipples, even as her mouth closed around the tip of his cock. She moaned and sucked on him – her hand dripping between her legs to slid along her own hot, eager cunt.

Qasim’s fingers slid through her raven black hair without a thought – letting himself get carried away. He felt her nose bumping against the top of his cock and nestling in the warm thatch of his pubic hair, even as Hua began to kiss her way down his spine. The dragon made her progress – and God above, it was so very easy to think of her as a girl at the moment – down his back with eager little smacking noises, making soft ‘mew mew mew’ sounds between every single damp kiss. She traced the curve of his shoulder blades, the small of his back, then nuzzled at his ass, licking his cheek with slow, deliberate wafts of her tongue. Then she darted her head forward and kissed the base of his balls, even as Ropo’s hand closed around the back of his cock, holding him in place as she bobbed her head.

Qasim’s heart hammered and he clenched his teeth, his fingers, and his toes all at once. The tightening of his fingers drew a happy little moan from the married Tengu and her tongue swirled around his cock with renewed eagerness, her lips fastening onto his glans as she sucked. The tip of her tongue slipped along his slit, collecting his pre with every heartbeat. Hua, meanwhile, had closed her mouth around one of his balls. Her other hand was reaching out, groping and fondling Ropo’s full breast. Qasim could see, barely, his dragon tweaking and teasing one of Ropo’s nipples, tugging on her with just enough force to make the Tengu shudder with pleasure.

Qasim himself felt his own orgasm rushing towards him – skyrocketing, really. He hadn’t been with Ning in what felt like months, too wrapped up in the politics of the Imperial court and in his training as a wizard. Magician. Whatever. His balls tightened and a low, husky groan escaped his lips as he rocked his hips despite himself. Ropo’s nose bent ever so slightly with the pressure of his forward motion, and his balls slipped from Hua’s eager little mouth, slapping against Ropo’s chin. The Tengu swallowed the first blast of his cum with clear relish, moaning as she sucked and sucked sucked.

Hua, making a tiny whiny noise, leaned forward and nuzzled at Ropo – forcing her back and off Qasim’s cock. A last spurt of his seed splashed against Ropo’s face, smearing her cheek, dripping from her chin. Hua grabbed her before she could escape, the more slender girl pressing to her, their breasts mashing together, Hua’s tiny breasts completely enveloped by Ropo’s pillowy chest. Hua’s tongue darted out and she lapped cum from Ropo’s chin, which slid smoothly into a deep, eager kiss, the two of them moaning as Ropo shared the cum that still filled her mouth with the lusty dragon. Hua trembled and Qasim felt a tail bumping against his ankles.

He frowned – and called upon the magics he had been taught. It took a tiny coaxing of the sphere of fire to bring the lights of the room to their full strength and in the warm, orange glow, both girls took on an almost angelic luster. And he could see that Hua had shifted to be a girl, yes. But where a girl would have pubic hair, she had scales, glittering and tiny. And where a girl wouldn’t have a tail, she had on – long and sinuous and scaled. Her forehead had a pair of horns that curled, like that of a ram.

Hua and Ropo broke the kiss and Ropo changed – her body flowing like mercury in a dish. Her skin darkened. Feathers grew. Her nose smoothly took on the shape and length of her beak and she clicked the tip, happily. “You taste quite good, Glorious Prince of Heaven. Though...” She giggled. “A little saltier than my man.”

Hua scoffed. “Did I not tell you to eat the fruit of pleasant seed, Qasim?” she shook her head, sadly. “I have to really teach my companion more.”

“Did you at least teach him how to pleasure a woman with his tongue?” Ropo asked, her voice playful. Then, hurriedly, she added. “N-Not that I mistrust you, Glorious One!”

Hua giggled. “I don’t know. Can you, Qasim?”

Qasim frowned. He felt as if he shouldn’t be the one with ruffled feathers here, not being the Tengu. And yet, he had them. And so, he rolled his shoulders, snapped his fingers, then pointed at the bed. “Bed. Now.” He said, then tried to hide his smile as Hua sprang to her feet and did a little dance, before whispering to Ropo – loudly enough for the whole room to hear her: Aha! It worked!

Then Hua grabbed Ropo’s arm and dragged the blushing, black skinned governor to the bed and bent forward. Suddenly, Qasim found himself looking at something that he knew his imam would have had words with him about: A married woman, bent forward above her marriage bed, her sex dripping with arousal as she waggled her hips from side to side. The fact that she had tail feathers, a beak, and black fur would have likely only made his imam purse his lips more. Qasim sighed, then spread his hands. He had tried his best, and still, ended up here.

Now, he might as well enjoy it, while it lasted, no?

He stepped forward and called up the magic he had been taught. He used the sphere of wood to form the root of the magic, then started to thread more spheres of wood and fire and air – to provide motion and life and heat to what he was envisaging. The magic came easier than he expected ... and Qasim, for a moment, forgot that two women were waiting for him. He instead was focused entirely upon the shimmering spheres, the growing sense of power in his breast. His eyes closed and he remembered what the teachers in the Imperial court had taught him.

Intention. Imagination. Imagio.

His fingers made the passes.

He breathed out and as he breathed out, he breathed out a glowing green fog of magic, which coalesced beside him into ... him. Another Qasim, perfect to the last detail, standing opposite him. The other Qasim held the same expression Qasim had – curious attentiveness. It was like looking into a reverse mirror, the mole that he normally saw on his ‘right’ side was on its proper left side. He touched it and his mirrored copy touched it as well. Ropo had swung her head around and gasped. Her eyes widened. “B-But how?” She whispered.

“He’s been learning magic,” Hua said, cheerfully.

“I’ve heard of such spells...” Ropo stood up, her knees quivering. “B-But I thought only the most skilled arcmages could cast them.”

“Well!” Hua puffed up her chest, her tiny breasts thrust out proudly. She then cupped her breasts, as if she was trying to draw as much attention to her breasts as she possibly could. “Firstly, the Glorious Prince of Heaven is a chosen of prophecy to defeat the Dark Lord. He’d better be innately good at magic and all the other things that a Glorious Prince of Heaven should be. It’d be kind of silly for the chosen of prophecy to fail.” She rolled her eyes slightly. “Secondly ... um, he’s tied to me.” Hua stepped over to Quasim, touching his chest and smiled. “So, he can draw magic from me. And being a celestial dragon, I’ve got huge tracts of ... magical prowess.”

“That joke doesn’t work while you look like a malnourished teenager,” Qasim said – his voice echoing faintly as the second Qasim spoke at the same time as him.

“I am offended,” Hua said, crossing her arms over her chest and sticking her nose into the air. “Offended! ... well, not that offended.” Then, cheerfully, she turned and threw herself back onto the bed. The cushions of the mattress squeaked and she bounced, rebounded, and settled next to the curvaceous Tengu governor. She thrust her rump into the air and waggled. “Nom nom!”

Qasim rolled his eyes – his copy rolling them at the same time.

Then he stepped forward and knelt in stereo and leaned forward and two pairs of lips pressed against two warm, eager cunts. His tongue darted out and he tasted both of them at the same time, the connection between his copies filling his mind with a shared awareness. Hua tasted like the sweetest juice he ever had felt on his tongue. Grapes, apples, oranges, every kind of fruit in the whole of the world paled next to what Hua tasted like. Ropo was more earthy, more familiar – her scent and her taste was musky and familiar. Like Ning. Like the few other girls that he had laid. His eyes closed and he gripped both of their asses, squeezing and playing and fondling them. He felt the tightness of Hua. The soft squish of Ropo’s married rump.

“Oh yes...” Hua whimpered.

“Glorious Prince!” Ropo moaned louder, her beak lolling open, her eyes closing to slits. She rocked against him and Hua thrust his tongue into both of their cunts, crooking it up and grinding against their G-spots. Well. He ground against what made Ropo moan in bliss – and then felt Hua’s cunny shifting and changing shape around his tongue. Mildly disquieting, but in the end, when his tongue caressed Ropo’s pleasure, Hua squealed in purest delight, her tail lashing from side to side so fiercely that the knuckles that gripped Ropo’s black ass felt the sting of her. When he drew his tongue back, both girls had been reduced to quivering, whimpry messes.

Qasim stepped up and pressed his cock against their sex. Their moisture slipped and beaded along his member and he ducked his head forward and saw, at the same time, both of their bodies. Hua was craning her head backwards and giving him a great big grin. “Isn’t this way better than being all stoic all the time?”

“Still stoic,” Qasim grunted, grabbing onto the base of Hua’s tail – and his fingers also closed around the base of Ropo’s tail feathers, bunching them up in his grip. Her feathers rasped against one another and she let out a little mewl of excited pleasure. Then Qasim slammed into both women at the same time, his hips driving into them. Their bodies reacted in similar – and distinct – ways. Both tightened. Both moaned. Both arched their backs. But where Hua was all lithe muscle and whippy tails and eager, peach-shaped rumps, Ropo was curves and jiggles and a husky groan and an shocked: “Gods.”

Qasim nodded, curtly, then began to absolutely destroy the both of them. He slammed into them, his cock and his balls pounding against their cunts, their bellies, their thighs. Hua grabbed onto a pillow and bit into it to muffle her moans, while Ropo managed to choke herself off through sheer willpower, her bright gold beak hanging open as she rocked back against him. But that willpower broke down as she started to let out soft ‘yes yes yes yes yes yes!” in a syncopated pattern with his thrusts, with the pap pap pap pap of his balls.

Qasim thought of a dozen things to growl or snarl or purr.

Bigger than your husband?

How do you like that, you eager little minx?

You feel so fucking tight.

He said none of them. He just clenched his jaws, closed his eyes, and felt the sweat beading along his body – dripping down his back, gathering on his balls and flinging free with every thrust. He breathed shallowly through his clenched teeth and he gripped the two of them even tighter. Hua clenched around him, the pillow turning to tatters under her claws and her teeth – even as a humanoid, she had both and they were wickedly sharp. Ropo wailed her bliss with utter abandon, so loud, so eager. Her eyes fluttered shut and her cunt tightened around his cock like a silken fist. As she squeezed him, Qasim let himself boil over.