Chapter 14: Spit Cave

They spent another day hiking, then stopped briefly for lunch before carrying on, making camp only when the sun was getting too low to see by. Cal and Gorz made a campfire as Poppy dug one of her burrows, hollowing out a sizable hole in a hillside and creating a large pile of excavated soil beside it. Perhaps she wasn’t planning on sharing the tent with them that night, though Cal couldn’t guess as to why.

Once she was done digging, Poppy called Murzka over and took her aside for a moment, the towering Araxie leaning down so that the Worker could whisper in her ear.

Murzka strode back over to the burgeoning fire, getting her counterpart’s attention.

“Gorz,” she began, the male glancing up from his work as he stoked the flames. “We are short of fresh meat. Will you accompany me on a mossgrazer hunt? I am not quite recovered enough to go alone.”

“Certainly,” he replied, standing up and brushing off his furry hands. “Your wards will be safe in our absence?”

“Quite,” she replied, glancing back and giving Poppy a smile.

The two Araxie collected their guns and headed off into the forest, leaving Cal seated beside the fire. As soon as he was confident that they were out of earshot, he turned his attention to Poppy.

“What was that about?” he asked suspiciously.

“I asked Murzka to keep Gorz busy for a while,” she replied, taking a seat on a root beside him. She was a little too short, so she had to hop up, her feet dangling off the ground.

“Why’s that?”

“So you and me could have a little alone time,” she replied, shuffling a little closer. She leaned her head on his shoulder, Cal feeling her rest a lower hand on his thigh. “I’ve been thinking about the other night, and what happened beneath the waterfall,” she continued as she let her antenna brush against his cheek. “Every day could have been like that, but with Gorz here...”

“I don’t think Gorz would care,” Cal replied, sliding an arm around her waist.

“No, but I would,” she insisted with a pout. “I don’t really know him, and having him overhearing us when he’s on watch is embarrassing. I’m still shy about it, you know.”

“No, I get you,” Cal said as he gave her a reassuring squeeze. “I wouldn’t be too comfortable with that either.”

“So ... you wanna do it?” she asked as she peered up at him with those bright, blue eyes. “I don’t know how long it’ll take two Araxie to bag a mossgrazer – probably not very. We might not have a lot of time.”

“Right now?” Cal chuckled. “Uh, yeah, for sure.”

“Okay, good,” she chimed as she hopped down off the root. She grabbed his forearm, the grip of her upper hand surprisingly strong, pulling him to his feet. “C’mon, c’mon!”

“Slow down,” he laughed as she led him away from the fire’s glow. “How quick could they possibly be – half an hour? We have plenty of time.”

“Cal, they’re some of the best hunters in the settlement,” she insisted as she guided him over to the tent. Instead of stopping, she collected the bivvy bag and tucked it under one arm, then picked up the camping lamp with another. “I only really got to do it properly that one time, and then Gorz showed up. When Murzka got hurt, I would have given an arm to have a rescue party come find us. Now that he’s here, I wish he’d go away.”

“Be nice, Poppy,” Cal chided. “He came all this way to find us.”

“I’m sorry – he’s just interfering with my personal time,” she huffed as she led Cal towards the hole that she’d dug earlier.

“Wait, we’re doing it in the spit cave?” Cal asked.

“I don’t want Gorz walking in on us if we’re doing it in the tent,” she explained. “You can’t even close the flaps.”

“Poppy, it would take me two minutes to set up the smaller tent.”

“It’ll be fine!” she insisted, practically dragging him now. “I made it big enough for both of us!”

Poppy released his hand at the mouth of the hole, Cal leaning down to peer inside as she shuffled deeper. She lay the bivvy bag down on the floor of the little cave, patting it flat, then illuminated the lamp. Its dim, golden glow revealed a domed chamber that had been excavated from the earth, its walls lined with the same clear resin that she had used to dress Murzka’s wound. It had already hardened, forming an uneven, translucent layer like dried glue.

He had to drop to his knees to crawl inside, finding that the interior was a little larger than it had looked from the outside. The floor was spacious enough that he and Poppy could lie side by side, and the domed ceiling rose high enough that he could sit upright, but there wasn’t more than a couple of inches of give. It would probably take him all day to dig a hole this big, and she’d done it in half an hour.

Poppy wasted no time, shuffling closer and surprising him with a kiss the moment he rose to his knees, her lower hands clasping at his shirt. Her plump lips met his, that snaking proboscis flicking out to dance across his tongue, the Worker filled with nervous energy. He took her hands and eased them away, breaking off with a smack.

“Hold on,” he chuckled as she peered back at him with wide eyes. “This isn’t a race, Poppy. We can take our time.”

“S-sorry,” she stammered. “I’m just ... I can’t get it out of my head. All we’ve been doing this last couple of days is walk, and it’s given me way, way too much free time to think about you and Murzka and what we did...”

“Trust me, I get it,” he replied with a smile. “The first time I made love, I would have spent the next two months in bed if I’d had my way. You’ll enjoy it more if you don’t rush.”

“Okay,” she conceded, hesitating for a moment before leaning in for another kiss.

This one was slower, Poppy taking her time and savoring the sensations as their lips joined. She was still so unsure, her hesitation contrasting with Murzka’s innate confidence. Even her embrace was a question that awaited an answer. His reply was to slide his hand behind her back, leaning her over a little, feeling her small hands grip his shirt for purchase. His other hand cradled her head to support her, Cal feeling her tremble as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, her thin proboscis mapping it out. Where Murzka’s kisses were forceful and strong, Poppy’s were far more tentative, the Worker melting into his arms as he slid his tongue across the fleshy lining of what passed for her mouth.

When he drew away, he saw her peering back at him, as enamored as he had ever seen her. There was that scent again – a floral perfume filling the cave, at once sweet and insidious in the way that it tugged at his emotions. She couldn’t breathe heavily in the way a human did, but Cal had learned to recognize the way that her abdomen and thighs expanded subtly as her spiracles took in air, like someone blowing up an inflatable pool toy.

“Maybe ... going slow is better,” she giggled.

“Did you bring me down here just so you could hotbox the place in pheromones?” Cal asked.

“It doesn’t hurt,” she replied innocently.

Cal released her, and she knelt in front of him, reaching for her chestpiece.

“Let me,” he said, taking her hand to stop her. He curled his fingers into the small seam between the plates as he had seen her do, glancing at her in a silent request for permission.

“That’s right,” she said, her eyes following his hands. “It’ll feel like it doesn’t want to come off, but give it a tug. You won’t hurt me.”

He did as she asked, feeling the molded plate come away like a magnet, the weight of her breasts leaving it. They spilled free in an avalanche of pink flesh, bouncing softly as they settled, Poppy visibly resisting the urge to cover herself with an arm.

“N-now the bottom plate,” she stammered. “It comes away at the hips...”

“I get the sense I’m gonna need the practice,” he replied.

He slid his hands down her waist, following its curves, watching her wriggle at his touch. The belt-like ring came away in the same manner along with the front and back plates that hung from it, Poppy rising for a moment to step out of it. She was as nude as she could get now, kneeling with her thighs tightly locked together and her lower hands resting in her lap, peering up at him expectantly.

Cal cupped one of her breasts in his hand, letting it spill over his palm as he lifted it, sinking his fingers deep into her inviting bosom. With the other, he cupped her cheek plates, guiding her in for another kiss. Her long lashes fluttered as they embraced, the Worker rising a little higher – leaning into him in search of more. He rolled her delicate fat between his fingers as their embrace dragged on, growing more heated as her desire grew. It never ceased to amaze him how full and heavy Poppy’s breasts could feel despite her small stature.

“Okay, okay,” Poppy gasped as she eased him away with a hand on his chest. “Let me undress you now. I gotta learn, right?”

“My clothes are a little less complicated than yours,” he chuckled as she turned her gaze to his shirt.

“From your perspective, maybe,” Poppy scoffed. “What the hell does a necktie even do?”

“Makes you look smart,” Cal replied as she began to lift the hem of the garment.

“Why?” she muttered, slowly exposing his torso as she went. He lifted his arms to help her along, but she got the shirt stuck around his head – too short to get it all the way off while kneeling. She took full advantage of the situation, Cal feeling her front-facing antennae drape themselves across his chest, soaking in his intoxicating sweat. He humored her for a few moments longer, then pulled the garment the rest of the way off, Poppy lifting her antennae away from him with an infatuated look in her eyes.

“Why did the Queen have to make Endo boys smell so good to us?” she mumbled, shivering as she reached up to comb one of the feelers through her fingers. “So undignified...”

She unbuckled his belt next, Cal kicking off his boots as she tugged them the rest of the way off, tossing them aside to join his shirt on the floor. He stood, putting his shorts at face height to her, Poppy leaning back in alarm as his bulge almost hit her horn. He couldn’t stand up straight in the low chamber, his back following the curve of the domed ceiling.

“Maybe I should have made it a little bigger,” Poppy said, her eyes lingering on his member as it tented the fabric. “Can’t say the same about this.”

“You can handle it,” Cal chuckled.

“I can handle a jackhammer, too. That doesn’t mean I want to stick one up my-”

“Alright, alright,” he laughed.

She used her lower hands to drag down his shorts, the elastic catching on his member for a moment before it was freed, pulsing an inch from where her nose would have been. In this position, she could let her antennae rest against his torso, and she made no attempt to disguise it. Her lids drooping, she brought those soft lower hands to his shaft, giving it an experimental stroke. Unable to completely close her fingers around his girth, she used both hands, sliding them against his skin as she caressed him.

“I want to try what Murzka did,” she began. “I know how much you like it...”

She opened her mouth, letting her proboscis dart out, Cal flinching as it circled his glans. It wormed its way down his shaft, tying around it like a piece of living string, only strong enough to apply a pleasant pressure. The ribbon-like organ began to spiral in a slow, looping motion, swirling around his length as she watched him with those blue eyes. It was a strange, unfamiliar sensation, but one that he found enjoyable. Next, she leaned in closer, kissing the tip of his cock with her waxy lips. They were lush and plump, shining in the lamplight. Poppy couldn’t suck in the way that Murzka could, so she crawled them across his glans, sliding them over it as she mouthed and kissed gently.

She worked within her limitations, catching her pillowy lower lip on his glans and letting it slide, pursing them around his tip. That thin proboscis snuck beneath his foreskin, making quick laps around it, tickling him more than licking. Without a throat, she could only take the first inch or two into her mouth, but it was lined with a fleshy membrane that was just as soft as an inner cheek. She kept up her stroking, sliding her hands along his shaft and letting her slender fingers tease his sack.

“How am I doing?” she asked, taking him off guard again with her ability to speak with her mouth full.

“You’re making ... very efficient use of the tools available,” he sighed as she slid his glans into her cheek. “You mind if I lie down? This position is kind of hurting my back.”

“Oh, sure,” she chimed as she released his member and leaned out of his way.

Cal lowered himself from his hunched position, pulling his shorts the rest of the way off before lying down, the plush fabric of the bivvy bag filling the cave with its rustling. Poppy was quick to take her place at his side, sitting beside him and draping her torso over his lap, propping herself up with a stout upper arm like she was lounging on a beach somewhere.

In this new position, her soft breasts poured over his thighs, her wobbling flesh lapping against his erection as she shifted her weight to get comfortable. She took his cock in her hand and leaned in to pepper its tip with a few more kisses, perhaps sensing that he enjoyed the texture of her lips, the pervasive damp keeping them moist and slippery.

“Murzka said I should try this,” she added, supporting herself with her upper arms while she used the lower pair to grip her bosom. She pressed her breasts together with her hands, leaning forward a little to let them slide around his cock, burying it in her quivering flesh. Like her lips, the moisture in the humid environment clung to her body, giving her already smooth skin a slick texture. She was endowed enough that only his glans emerged from Poppy’s cleavage, the little Worker smirking as she squeezed her boobs together, packing his shaft with her velvet-soft fat.

“She told you to do this?” Cal grunted. “Is that what you guys are talking about when I’m not around?”

“I might have asked her for a few pointers,” Poppy replied, more confident now that she had him on the back foot. “She’s very good with men – it’s kind of amazing to watch. She told me that I should put my assets to good use.”

“This is a pretty good use of your assets, yeah,” he mumbled as she began to move.

Sliding her hands beneath her breasts, she lifted them, struggling to prevent her slippery flesh from escaping her grasp. They looked even larger in her tiny hands, practically engulfing them. Frustrated, she turned to her upper pair instead, using the larger shovel-like appendages to cup her boobs far more easily. Now able to maneuver them, she raised them past his glans, then let gravity pull them back down again. They fell, clapping into his lap, the impact making them bounce. Poppy found a slow pace, holding them together to keep them tight, sliding them up and down his shaft. The humidity that misted her skin kept them slick, their weight tangible as they pressed around his member – even moreso when she let them drop.

“Does it feel good?” she asked eagerly, watching him intently. “It must feel good – I don’t know why she’d recommend it otherwise. I hope it works without the fur...”

“Yeah, it feels amazing,” Cal sighed as she alternated her movements to rub them around his cock. “Murzka would have a much harder time with this than you.”

“Really?” Poppy asked, giving him a sly smile. “You think so? She’s so much bigger than I am, though.”

“Yeah, but you’re a lot softer than she is,” he replied as he sank back into the bag. “I still don’t know how you smuggled those things around without me realizing it for so long. I’ll have to call you when I want to get something through customs without paying the import fees.”

“Very funny,” she replied sarcastically, giving him a more aggressive pump that left him seeing stars. While her upper hands were occupied, she used the lower to cradle his balls, gently massaging them in her hands and letting her fingertips trail across his sensitive skin. “You know what I think? I think you make jokes when you’re nervous. I think you do it to distract yourself.”

“Oh, is that what you think?” he chuckled. “What am I distracting myself from?”

“This,” she cooed, gripping her breasts and beginning to rub them against his shaft with her upper hands. She alternated between them, pushing one forward and pulling the other back, the moisture that clung to her soft skin letting them slide. Cal gritted his teeth against the pleasure, his mind starting to fog as her pheromones filled the air in the confined space.

He lay back into the bag, letting his head spin as she worked, enjoying the pleasant warmth and weight of her bosom. Just when he was starting to get complacent, she ceased her rubbing, curling her upper arms around her bountiful breasts. She trapped them in a hug, squeezing them together tightly, her wobbling flesh spilling over and around her forearms like she was pressing them into soft wax. Cal felt the pressure around his member grow more intense, her inviting fat pouring around his shaft almost like a liquid, trapping him in a velvet prison. Her bosom bore down on him from all sides, her strong grip compressing it, her rhythmic squeezing translating through the delicate tissue.

This wasn’t just for his benefit – Poppy really seemed to be enjoying herself. Her antennae were waving in the air like little radars, picking up every hormone that he exuded, while her eyes peered down to watch his glans emerge from her cleavage. She was smiling, having fun as she explored both her body and his.

“Here,” she said, bringing all four arms into play. Using the upper pair to hug her boobs together, she used the lower to help support them from below, raising them a little higher and holding them in place. “Go nuts, big guy.”

Her meaning was obvious enough, and he began to lift his butt off the floor, thrusting between her breasts. She watched with a smile as his member emerged from the shadow of her cleavage, the impact of his hips making her bust bounce, little ripples spreading through her supple fat. At his apex, his glans brushed against the fluffy ruff of fur around her neck, the soft strands caressing him. Able to set his own pace now, he went a little faster, his shaft gliding against her waxy skin. She kept them tight, the chitin that covered her forearms sinking into them like a rolling pin being pressed into fresh dough, her antennae bobbing in the air in time with his motions.

“I wanna see you finish like this,” she chuckled, her bosom quivering as he pushed into it. “I don’t think we have time to go twice, though. Next time...”

She released her beasts, gravity separating them, all of that wonderful pressure leaving him. Cal took a moment to collect himself – not an easy prospect with all the pheromones that swirled in the air. Poppy sat up, her boobs swaying, Cal admiring them as the light from the lamp caught the glittering droplets of water that misted her pink skin.

“Alright,” she said eagerly, swinging a leg over him. “Time to-”

Cal gripped her by the hips, rolling her over, Poppy letting slip a yelp of alarm that echoed in their little cave. She found herself lying on her back on the plush fabric of the bag, Cal looming over her, his hands resting to either side of her head. She blinked back at him in bewildered surprise, and while she couldn’t blush, he could sense the surge of arousal in her pheromones. He took her upper wrists in his hands and pinned them to the floor, leaning over to give her a kiss. Was this how Murzka felt while contorting herself to reach him? Poppy had to lift her head and he had to bend almost double, their lips joining, her spine arching off the bag as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. He was still brimming with desire, his cock pulsing against the cushion of her soft belly as he knelt between her legs.

“W-who said you could be on top this time?” Poppy stammered when he drew back, his embrace leaving her a little dazed.

“It’s only fair,” he replied, shrugging without releasing her wrists. “You get a turn, I get a turn.”

“You realize that’s not really having the intended effect?” she asked sarcastically, reaching up to give his stomach a poke with her lower hands. “I have two more – remember?” She roamed a little lower, Cal faltering when she gripped his cock, the little Worker snickering to herself as she gave him a teasing stroke.