Chapter 12: Aftercare

Cal tended the fire, stoking the glowing embers with a suitable stick. The rain had cleared since the prior evening, and there was a briskness to the morning air that made it feel fresh and crisp. Kevin was lying at his side, knowing that a fire meant breakfast, even if no meat was cooking yet.

“Hi,” Poppy chimed, sitting down on the moss-covered log beside him. She peered up at him with a wide smile, kicking her two-toed feet happily.

“Hey,” Cal replied, glancing down at her. “You sleep like a rock. Get some good rest?”

“Yeah,” she replied, her smile only widening. “Guess you could say I got tuckered out last night. How did you sleep?” she added, nodding to the fire. “Worked up an appetite, I see.”

“Good, thanks,” he replied. “You want me to make you anything? I think we have some leftover packets of passion fruit flavored drink mix.”

“So, are we gonna beat around the bush, or are we going to talk about how we fucked the daylights out of each other last night?” she asked.

“Alright,” Cal conceded, unable to suppress a chuckle as he shook his head. “I’ve learned that beating around bushes is something you greatly disapprove of.”

“I still feel good,” she added, staring into the flames as she resumed kicking her feet. She was so full of energy, almost like she was trying to resist dancing to a beat that only she could hear. “Is that normal so long afterwards?”

“In an ideal scenario, yeah,” he replied. “I feel good too. Hips might be a little roughed up, though,” he added as he lifted his shirt to reveal a few developing bruises.

“Murzka did warn you,” Poppy giggled, clearly enamored by the sight as her eyes lingered on his exposed midriff. “Where is she, anyhow? She left sometime before I woke up. I swear, something as large as her shouldn’t be able to move the way she does.”

“She’s gone off to catch us a fresh mossgrazer,” Cal explained as he returned to prodding the fire. “She’s still not back to one hundred percent yet, but I figured that after her showing last night, she could probably handle it. Besides, it’ll make her happy to feel useful again.”

“She’s certainly regained a lot of her flexibility,” Poppy added with a smirk. “I’m surprised you survived long enough to go a round with me.”

“You’re a little firecracker, you know,” he added as he waved at her with his stick. “I gotta be more careful in the future about underestimating you.”

“What I lack in height, I make up for in personality,” she announced proudly. She shuffled a little closer to him on the log, hesitating for a moment as though considering her next course of action, then she lay her head against his shoulder. Cal extended an arm and wrapped it around her, hugging her closer, picking up the surge of happy pheromones that emanated from her.

“If you’re fishing for some reassurances, I still feel the same way about you that I did last night,” he said. “Even without your weird sex perfume giving me a context high.”

“That’s good,” she sighed, relaxing a little. “Um ... maybe it’s a weird thing to say, but thanks for making it so ... great. You guys really went out of your way to make me feel comfortable. I was kind of nervous about doing it, even though I really wanted to. In a way, I almost felt relieved when I thought you guys were finished. Murzka is some kind of professional sexpert with a doctorate in advanced bedroom theory, so I was pretty worried that I wouldn’t measure up.”

“She’s a pretty tough act to follow,” Cal said with a nod. “You’re not Murzka, though – you’re Poppy, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. You don’t need to worry about competing or measuring up to other people.”

“I get it – height joke,” she chuckled as she gave him a nudge with her elbow.

“We like you just the way you are,” he reiterated. “Sherpa, medic, lover – your accolades are starting to stack up.”

“My sisters are never going to believe that I bagged an Endo,” she added with an excited giggle. “What about later?” she continued, a little uncertain now. “When we get back to the settlement, you’re not gonna ... swap me out for a fresh Worker?”

“Poppy, I wouldn’t dream of it,” he scoffed as he gave her another squeeze. “There’s no swapping you out – you’re unique. If there’s even a whisper of them reassigning you, I’m gonna make it my personal problem. I’ll be doing many more expeditions during my time on EE-4, and I’m going to need a reliable sherpa.”

“Yeah, I can’t see you hauling that pack around by yourself,” she joked. “So ... when can we do it again?”

“What, make love?” Cal asked with a grin.

“Yeah! You were the one who said we could do it as much as I wanted.”

“I’m not used to making itineraries for this kind of thing,” he chuckled. “Tonight, maybe. Murzka won’t be happy with us if we expend all of our hiking energy too early in the day.”

“Alright!” she chimed, wrapping her two right arms around his left and holding it tightly.

“I have to admit – I don’t really know what this is,” Cal mused as he watched the glowing embers rise up towards the shadowy canopy. “I’ve never been in a pack before. I guess it’s kind of like a relationship, but not quite as exclusive? Maybe it’s like a polycule? That doesn’t feel right either.”

“What does it feel like to you?” Poppy asked.

“Kind of like having a couple of best friends I can sleep with,” he added, eliciting a laugh from her.

“Then, maybe that’s all it needs to be. Wait,” she marveled, peering up at him. “I’m one of your best friends?

“Well, second to Kevin, naturally.”

“Naturally.”

They sat quietly together for a few minutes until Kevin lifted his head, his ears tracking something. It was warning enough that Cal wasn’t too startled when Murzka materialized from the shadow of the forest behind them, tossing a sizeable mossgrazer onto the ground beside the fire with a thud that rustled the ferns.

“A successful hunt!” she declared cheerfully, stepping over the log with a single stride of her long legs. “It feels good to stretch my muscles once more. I spent too long sitting idle.”

“Remember not to push yourself too hard,” Poppy added. “You still have healing to do.”

“Poppy – you are awake,” Murzka added as she turned to face them. “I trust that you are well rested after last night?”

“You could say that,” she replied with a sly glance at Cal.

Murzka suddenly leaned in, taking Cal’s chin in her silky hand, her reflective eyes captivating him as she pulled him into a kiss. Her large, plush lips locked to his own, the taste of her powerful tongue as it probed his mouth bringing back a flood of sordid memories from their encounter the evening prior. She was somehow so forceful, yet so gentle and considerate of his limitations, every lick that painted his inner cheeks sapping a little of his strength away to leave him dazed.

“W-what was that for?” he stammered when she pulled away, the Araxie peering down at him with a satisfied smile.

“You are my packmate,” she declared. “I need no special reason to show affection.”

She turned to Poppy next, bending double to nuzzle against the base of her horn, the Worker snickering and swinging her legs as Murzka placed a kiss on her shell.

“Here – I have brought you fresh meat,” the Araxie continued as she knelt beside the mossgrazer, starting to dress it with her knife. She waved Kevin away as the dog came sniffing, and he sat obediently. “Prepare it for me the way you did when I was bedridden. It pleases me.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Cal replied with a mock salute that made Poppy snicker.

When the meat was ready, he prepared his camping pan and started cooking a few choice cuts, Kevin setting upon the carcass as soon as permission had been given. Cal made some juice for Poppy, finding contentment in his position as the pack’s unofficial chef, Murzka watching eagerly as the steaks sizzled and sputtered.

“I feel we will make good time today,” she announced as she took a juicy bite, enjoying the seasoning that Cal had cobbled together from the MREs. “I am feeling stronger.”

“It would be nice to make it back before everyone gets too worried about us,” Poppy added, taking a sip from her drink. “I’d feel pretty silly if we got back to the settlement only to find that they’d sent out half a dozen search parties to find us.”

“My people will intercept us before then,” Murzka assured her. “We have many skilled trackers among our packs, and we are not trying to make ourselves difficult to find.”

“That’s true enough,” Cal said.

“As we head to higher elevations, we should reduce our chances of encountering more backstabbers,” she continued with a gesture to the mountain that could be seen peeking through the gaps in the canopy. “The journey will become safer as we go.”

“Yeah, we didn’t see any of them until we hit the valley proper,” Cal said with a nod of agreement. “I think we’re pretty much in the clear. You looking forward to showing off that trophy?” he added.

“I will allow myself some small measure of pride,” she replied, reaching up to toy with the pendant that he had made for her. “The victory is ours, however – it belongs to the pack.”

Cal finished up his breakfast burrito, then they packed away the gear, Poppy helping Cal to roll up the tent and stow it. She hefted her heavy pack with her usual enthusiasm, the dead backstabber strapped tightly to the top of her rig in its sealed bag. With a little luck, it wouldn’t deteriorate too much before they got it back to the UAS.

They set off, Murzka leading the way but not straying too far from sight this time. As much as she considered herself to be the Alpha of their little three-person pack, she still heeded Poppy’s advice, taking it a little slower while she healed.

“You should have seen your face when she kissed you,” Poppy whispered as she walked along beside him. “You go quiet, and you get all red. It’s adorable. It’s like she sucks your ability to formulate coherent thoughts right out through your mouth.”

“Big talk for someone whose first kiss was less than twelve hours ago.”

“You like Murzka,” Poppy teased in a mock singsong voice.

“I like you too – what’s your point?”

“I just like watching you two go at it,” she replied, reaching out to clasp his hand possessively. “I like the way you respond to her. It seems ... overwhelming.”

“Well, she can be ... a lot,” he admitted, letting her hold his hand. “She’s a lot bigger than I am, and a lot more experienced.”

“Now you know how I feel,” Poppy added, smiling up at him.

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

They found a suitable place to stop beside the water – coming across a beautiful, scenic area of the jungle. The river that wound its way through the valley created a small waterfall as it cascaded down from a short, rocky cliff above, draining into a pool before continuing on its way. The spray that it created even formed a visible rainbow as it refracted the light that bled through the branches above. The trees had done their level best to make it their home, their roots winding through the rocks and boulders, creating a network that held it all together like an organic net.

Cal got a fire going so that he could cook the remainder of the mossgrazer meat from that morning, while Murzka seemed to have other ideas. She walked down to the water’s edge, crunching the smooth pebbles on the shore beneath her feline paws, shedding belts and bandoleers as she went. By the time she arrived at the pool, she was wearing only her leather sling and her shorts. The sling soon followed, then she leaned forward with her usual flexibility, peeling off her tight shorts to reveal her sculpted rear.

“Cal, your stick is burning,” Poppy warned. She was sitting beside him on a boulder, watching him as he tended the fire, her pack resting at her side.

He snapped back to reality, pulling the piece of branch that he had been using as a makeshift poker from the embers, a few inches of it now smoldering. When he turned his eyes back to Murzka, she was partially submerged, the water rising to her slender waist.

“Hey, Captain Oblivious,” Poppy said as she gave him a tap on the shoulder. “She wants you to go to her.”

“What?” he mumbled as he glanced down at the Worker.

“Do you think that display was for my benefit?” Poppy scoffed. “C’mon, big guy. The fire will survive without you for a while. I’ll hold your hand.”

She took his hand and pulled him to his feet – once again surprising him with her strength, leading him across the stones and down to the river’s edge. Murzka turned to greet them, sharing a decidedly conspiratorial look with Poppy. This time, Cal didn’t have to avert his eyes, taking in Murzka’s athletic figure as her dark fur shone in the light that filtered through the leafy canopy. She made no attempt to preserve her modesty, her paradoxically perky breasts on display, her toned midriff gleaming with moisture as she stood there confidently.

“There is soap in that pouch,” she said, gesturing to the pile of belts. “Come – we Araxie bathe communally. You must learn to groom your packmates.”

“Is there anything you don’t do communally?” he wondered as he crouched to collect the little parcel of soap. In the time it took him to turn around again, Poppy had shed her plates, splashing into the water beside the smiling Araxie. A little less confident than her counterpart, she turned with her more ample bosom covered by an upper arm, the water rising past her paunchy belly. She might be able to carry several times her body weight, but watching her try to gather up her breasts was like watching someone try to hold back a small avalanche.

“C’mon!” she demanded, beckoning to him with a lower hand.

Knowing that he had no choice but to disrobe in front of them, Cal began to shed his clothing. It was certainly by design, Poppy’s sly smile growing wider as he revealed more skin, but the allure of the cool water after a morning of hiking overpowered his self-consciousness.

Now nude, he joined them in the water, feeling more smooth stones and cool silt underfoot. Poppy wasted no time, hurrying over to the small waterfall, the pool never growing deep enough to pass her chest. She waded beneath its flow, the cascading water pressing her antennae down, her eyes closing as she lifted her face to let it splash across her plates.

“That feels wonderful!” she declared. “This is like a shower, right? Humans have those in their homes.”

“We would do well to make a note of this place,” Murzka added as she walked over to join her. She let the water pour over her shoulders and down her back, her fur as lustrous as ever, lifting her clawed fingers and running them through her hair. “I am sure that many of the settlers would wish to visit.”

Cal waded through the pool, enjoying the feeling of the fresh, cool spray against his skin. It created a kind of pleasant mist even when one wasn’t directly beneath the flow, cleaning away all of the sweat and grime that had accumulated over the past few days. Even Kevin elected to join in, submerging himself and laying his head on the shore, letting the water soak into his coarse coat.

Murzka held out a hand in invitation, and Cal took it, the Araxie guiding him closer to her. The nearer he got, the more he had to lift his chin to meet her eyes, his head level with her chest. The memories of their encounter the night before were still fresh in his mind. He remembered the way that her springy flesh resisted his kneading, the sensation of resting his head on her bosom, and the wonderful scent of her fur...

She took the parcel from him, scooping out a little of the white paste and using it to lather up her furry hands.

“Hey, gimme some,” Poppy insisted. Murzka passed her the soap, and she lifted her lower pair of hands from beneath the water, following suit. “Workers are actually responsible for grooming the other castes, you know,” she announced proudly. “We do this all the time. Well, not this exactly.”

“Is that why your shells are so shiny?” Cal asked.

“Spit and polish,” Poppy replied. Cal wasn’t sure whether she was being literal or not.

“I take it that I’m going first?” Cal asked as Poppy moved behind him. Murzka’s lithe frame filled his field of view as she approached from the front, boxing him in, those pert breasts quivering softly with each step that she took.

“You require a demonstration,” the Araxie replied.

“A hands-on demonstration,” Poppy snickered from his rear.

Cal felt Poppy’s small, dexterous hands reach for his shoulders, starting to spread the lather down his back. They were softer than human hands, his eyes closing of their own accord as he enjoyed the sensation, the little Worker tracing his muscles with her fingers. The soap made her touch slippery, its floral fragrance reaching his nose as the sound of the waterfall filled his ears.

His eyes opened again as he felt Murzka’s hands on his chest. They were far larger than Poppy’s, their covering of velvet fur giving them the sensation of a loofah or some kind of luxuriant hand towel, his heart starting to race as she spread the foam. She was very careful with her claws, always keeping them clear, but they prevented her from kneading in the way that Poppy could with her fleshy digits. Murzka’s bosom was only a few inches away, and it took all of his willpower not to lean in and plunge his face between her breasts. They were as large and as full as ever, easily a match for his head despite how modest they appeared on her athletic frame.

“Do ... Araxie and Jarilans get this kind of treatment all the time?” he sighed as the two women worked steadily lower.

“Among packmates, certainly,” Murzka purred. “Cleanliness is important, whether one wishes to please their Alpha or care for their subordinates.”

“I should bring back the recipe for this soap,” Poppy chimed. “I bet my sisters could make good use of it. The whole hive would be smelling like flowers in no time.”

She slid her fingers down his spine, reaching its base, a wave of pleasure washing over him as she pressed into his muscles.

“Once again, I suspect that your lack of claws will serve you well in this task,” Murzka continued as she took one of his hands in hers. She let a fleshy pad slide across his palm on a layer of slick soap, the tip of her claw brushing his wrist, the sensation leaving him weak at the knees. Murzka didn’t need antennae to sense how enamored he was becoming.

She stopped at his belly, then rose higher, running her thick fingers through his hair. Like the teeth of a comb, her claws raked his scalp, sending pleasant tingles washing over him. Making love was wonderful, but this brand of casual affection was something new, leaving him strangely intoxicated.

Murzka enclosed his hands in hers, rubbing them gently to share the thick lather. Once they were coated, she brought them to her midriff, pressing them against her belly.

“Communal,” she reiterated, peering down at him expectantly.

“R-right,” he stammered, his gaze fixed on her core. In the brighter midday light – at least what made it through the trees – he got an even better look at her than he had under the lamplight. This wasn’t new, as being barely clothed was her default state, but Cal could drink in her figure without reservations now. The same twin rows of muscle that he had so diligently mapped with his tongue were shining and prominent, almost reflective, as though they had been chiseled from polished onyx. The way that the shadows pooled in their contours only made them appear more defined. A few small veins crisscrossed them, once again illustrating how thin her covering of fur truly was.

He began to spread the foam, its white color contrasting with her dark coat, his touch wonderfully slippery. Leaving suds and bubbles behind him, he moved higher, feeling her abs firm up beneath his palms in response. They were so developed that he could probably have used them as a washboard for his sweat-soaked clothes.

Her backstabber scar was still prominent, though it was healing well, the knitting flesh having taken on a healthy pink color. Cal wondered whether the fur would regrow eventually, or if the hair follicles were dead, her idealized body forever marred by the scar. Knowing Murzka, she would wear it with pride, just as she wore her trophy claw.

“Why do you hesitate?” she purred as he neared her chest. “You were not so cautious last night. I am your packmate whether we are in the confines of our tent or out in the open. We Araxie do not hide our affection.”

“Yeah, Cal,” Poppy snickered from behind him. “We’re all packmates here, right?”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he lifted his hands, delving them into the soft meat of Murzka’s bust. She bit her lip, her pearly teeth contrasting with its dark coloration, shifting her weight a little as he began to coat her breasts with the foam. With the pretense of bathing slipping, he began to knead in the way that he knew she liked, sinking his fingers into her springy tissue and reveling in the way that her pillowy fat bulged around them. She shuddered as he let one of her erect nipples slide between his digits, giving it a gentle pinch to tease her.

If he was already growing so familiar with her body, he wondered what it must be like to live in a pack that had been together for years or even decades. What pleasures might they enjoy when half a dozen people were so intimately familiar with one another – so perfectly attuned to their needs and desires? Just the idea of it made his head spin.

He lurched as he felt Poppy’s arms wrap around his waist, her hands sliding beneath the water, just able to comfortably reach his loins. The soap was viscous enough that it didn’t wash away readily, her slick fingers starting to dance along his swelling shaft, the Worker cradling his balls in her soft palm.

“What?” she protested, noting his reaction. “Gotta get you nice and clean, Cal. I wouldn’t want to miss a spot.”

Leaning her head against his back and hugging him with her upper arms, she began to stroke with the lower, her pace torturously slow. Her hands were tangibly warm in contrast to the cool water, her touch slippery, her dexterous fingers as skilled as those of any musician. His nerves were like the strings of a harp to her, Poppy knowing exactly where to pluck and strum, her knowledge of his anatomy only growing with practice.

“You have such soft hands,” Murzka sighed, pushing out her chest as he cupped her breasts. “Well-suited to bathing and pleasure alike.”

With her torso lathered in soap, she turned her back to him, sinking a little deeper into the water so that Cal could reach her shoulders. They were much broader than his own despite her svelte frame, more of those developed muscles visible beneath her wet coat. He began at her neck, pressing his thumbs into her sinew – something that Araxie couldn’t do with their sharp claws. He rubbed as he moved down towards its base, watching her roll her shoulders, a shiver sliding down her long spine.

“More hidden talents?” she purred, leaning back reflexively as he began to knead her shoulders. Her muscles were knotted up like old rope, imbued with tension that she must have been carrying since her ordeal, if not longer. Cal was no professional masseuse, but it didn’t take one to see how stressed she still was or to feel the stiffness in her body.

His thumbs met at the base of her neck, pressing deep and rubbing, working out a prominent knot. Murzka let out a low groan of appreciation, arching her back involuntarily, a shivering wave of pleasure rolling over her. Cal began to work his way lower, kneading between her shoulder blades as he went, the tough tissue gradually growing looser beneath his fingertips. She shifted and sighed each time he located a problem area or a pressure point, struggling to keep still, her usual composure slipping a little.

Her fur was wet and slick at the best of times, but the soap acted in lieu of oil, letting his hands slide across her back with ease. Cal moved down her spine, following the beautiful indent carved by the columns of wiry muscle that flanked it, pausing when he located another troublesome knot. Murzka went as stiff as a rod as he kneaded it with the heel of his hand, her tail standing up straight, a groan that might have been discomfort escaping her. As he applied more pressure, she began to tremble, then all of the tension left her in a comely sigh. She deflated, sagging a little, her ears twitching.

“What are you doing to her?” Poppy giggled as she leaned around him to watch. Her hands were still working beneath the water, stroking slowly and deliberately to keep him wanting, each pump of her hand distracting him from his task.

“She’s still carrying a lot of tension,” he replied. “I guess the Araxie can’t work it out with their claws. They’d carve each other up like a turkey dinner.”

“What about you?” Poppy asked, sliding her soapy fingers across his glans to provoke a wonderful jolt of pleasure. “Am I doing a good job working out your tension?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” he mumbled as she slid her fist down his shaft.

“More ... please,” Murzka growled as she peered over her shoulder at him.

Cal moved to her lower back, admiring the twin dimples to either side of her tail, the water rising just high enough to reach them. The appendage was connected to her body via a surprisingly strong web of muscle, which was likely what allowed it to support so much weight while she was climbing. He had seen her use it as a third limb to hang from branches like a spider monkey, after all. Just like the rest, it was full of knots and stress, Cal easing out the tension with his fingers. Like a cat being pet, she thrust out her rear in a silent plea for him to continue, her long tail batting him in the face as it gently waved back and forth.

“I feel as though I will never be short of uses for these hands,” she sighed, one last shiver tickling her as he scratched the base of her tail. She seemed to be sensitive there. Perhaps there was a nerve cluster. “Forgive my greed, Poppy. I have urgent need of our Conservationist.”

Before Cal could ask what she meant, he felt her long tail start to coil around his waist, Murzka pulling him along behind her as she waded beneath the waterfall. Poppy followed with an excited spring in her step, her pace slowed a little by the comparatively deeper water.

The cascade poured over them as they neared the small cliff face that rose up before them like a wall, the cracks in the stone colonized by flowering mosses, droplets of moisture clinging to their fuzzy mats. The pool grew shallower here, raising a little more of the Araxie’s rear from the water with each step, her sculpted cheeks gradually coming into full view. They rippled gently with her every movement, pert and firm. Just like her breasts, their generous size far exceeded that of any human woman, yet there wasn’t a cell of wasted fat on her. Murzka was muscle and sinew shrink-wrapped in velvet, all that was soft and yielding migrating to the most alluring of places, drawn magnetically to where her figure was fullest.

Murzka lay her hands against the rock, bending over like a gymnast warming up before a performance, putting her shoulders almost level with her hips. The falling water followed the channel of her spine, flowing across her dark fur, the Araxie turning to look back at him as the waterfall draped her soggy bangs over her eyes. If her intentions had not been obvious already, she spread her legs wider to lower herself down, maintaining another of her impressive positions as her loins hovered just above the sparkling surface of the pool. She was soaking wet, but it wasn’t all water. Something stringier drooped from between her thighs, joining them together, the barest sliver of pink visible in their shadow.

Cal felt Poppy’s breasts squash against his back as she approached from behind him, wrapping her upper arms around his midriff in a tight hug to join Murzka’s tail. The lower pair wandered down, her slender fingers curling around his shaft, his member pulsing above the water as she let it rest in her palm.

“I know you’re oblivious, but even you should be able to tell what she wants,” the Worker chimed as she leaned over to see around him. “Here – lemme give you a hand or two...”

She eased him closer to Murzka, sliding his cock between the Araxie’s cheeks, the texture of her wet fur exquisite against his skin. He felt the feline tense at his touch, and for a brief moment, those pillowy cheeks gripped him as she flexed. Poppy guided him lower, letting his glans drag against Murzka’s velvet coat, one hand cradling his balls as she aimed his cock between the Araxie’s spread legs.

“Just a little push is all it takes,” Poppy cooed. Cal’s heart raced, his patience waning as the mischievous little Worker made him wait. He could see Murzka’s furry lips, a scant glimpse of her rosy folds visible between them, his tip so tantalizingly close that he could feel her heat. Poppy’s grip was strong, and she wouldn’t let him move, reveling in his building tension.