think we can get away with and we screech at each other until the seagulls take flight out of self-preservation. But we’re also loyal to each other, we love one another like only a sister can, and nobody understands me like my sisters do.
Although… I think Kalos is quickly getting close.
Kalos was one of the few eggs his parents managed to hatch. Despite Crested Merlins laying clutches and clutches of eggs, it’s a myth that they hatch out masses of baby dragons in their well-protected lairs. Which makes sense, because the world would be overrun with a sky full of crested dragons otherwise. It can take a dozen moons for a single egg to hatch, or tens of dozens of moons. It’s all up to the egg in question, and when the hatchling is ready to break free of its calcium crystal-shelled cage.
Parents dote lovingly on their offspring until the dragonling comes of age to care for himself. Then his parents kick him (and his siblings, if he has any) out of the nest—literally shove him off a cliff—and send him soaring through the air to figure life out from then on alone.
Kalos has several siblings who have hatched out over the solars, and his drakon (his sire) and his drakaina (his dam) are more involved than most dragon parents. That is to say they didn’t punt Kalos out of the nest.
It was his brothers who did that to him.
Kalos was a late-hatch egg, and his older brothers took great delight in teaching him and their younger siblings how to fly.
Young dragons are usually schooled by nestmasters: Elder dragons who sort of herd all the young ones together and beat all the necessary learning into their heads by sheer repetition and persistence. Sums, fire writing, that sort of thing.
I’m glad I wasn’t born a dragon.
Kalos is very curious about the bond I have with my sisters. He doesn’t share anything like it with his brothers, although he supposes that other dragons might feel differently about their siblings.
The more he shares about his youth, the more protective of him I feel. Learning about Kalos, and having him want to learn everything about me in return changes me.
And the way he treats me! The tugs I feel in my chest when he kisses all the parts of my body so tenderly are foreign and strange. He doesn’t want to simply use me like all the men of the past; he wants to lovingly treasure me until my body can’t live without his.
I’m afraid he’s captured me in a way I never could have imagined.
Even when we’re setting out to do something as simple as gathering our food, he uses every opportunity he can to interlace our fingers, connecting us with our hands if we can’t be fitted together in other ways—and it seems like such a small thing. It’s not. He’s doing something to my heart.
He’s growing on it, like a barnacle.
I’ve got him on his back, and I’m pleasuring him with my mouth as he feasts between my legs. Taking a man in my mouth has always been a means to an end for me—I want a man hard? This is the quickest way to get him there. But with Kalos, I love pleasing him this way. He pets my sides and squeezes my flanks and growls his contentment, even though it sounds less like contentedness and more like he’s being tortured, and he says the nicest things about every one of my features.
Having him manhandle me to sit me over his own face was a surprise though. A pleasant, pleasant surprise. It’s so good it’s distracting. Every time he sets in with his licking and sucking, it throws off my concentration so that all I’m able to do is mindlessly pump his shaft with my hands, barely able to keep my lips around him.
The soft flares of whatever stands erect from the head of his cock tickle the roof of my mouth like they’re encouraging me to pay them attention.
I try to oblige. They’ve certainly been wonderful to me. I’ve never felt anything like them before, not their extra strokes when they’re between my legs with each of his cock’s thrusts, not the way they curl over and pummel a special spot of nerves inside me. Whatever these things are, they’ve made it their job to bring me pleasure, and I’d like to return the favor.
I curl my tongue over them, flattening them, and suck.
Kalos sits bolt upright.
This makes me