The Revelers – Chapter 16

(To read the entire chapter, click on the title)

She was feral, all heat and eagerness beneath him, nipping his chin with her small, white, teeth, her legs wrapped high around his hips, her furred inner thighs lush against his heated skin reminding him of all that could be.  He wanted to change, to transform, and to push her over too.  He wanted to feel her rippling beneath him, but he resisted, and his resolve to maintain this form only made his cock harder.  She mewled beneath him, her mouth supping on his urging him to ride her that much harder.  His cock swelling even more as he plunged relentlessly into her, searching and finding new depths. Her fingers scored his back, hind quarters and buttocks as she met each thrust, her sopping sex sucking at him. The wet sound and musky smell of their heated bodies permeated the room.   He liked this kit, the way she welcomed him with her wet, eagerness, and the adoring way she looked up at him her eyes all at once innocent and seductive.  He marveled at how someone so new could make him feel so powerful and necessary.

He leaned forward positioning himself so that each thrust rasped the swollen nub at the crest of her sex each time he slid into her depths.  Her damp navel kissed his, a rasping slid as she bucked against him, but he held on continuing the long hard thrusts until their bodies tightened, her pussy gripping his rock hard cock in a writhing strangle hold as she cried out and her eyes glazed over.   Only then could he allow himself release; it came in an almost painful rush, a joyous surge that paralyzed his body for a moment, his arms locked on either side of her body as he gazed down at her and then he fell, tumbling into her softness.  She mewled contentedly, but he still had the wherewithal to issue a joyous laugh as he rolled over to stretch out next to her.

“Wow,” she said, her voice a whisper as though she was afraid words would break the spell.

“Yeah,” he said, “Wow.”

“That was . . .” she searched for words.

“Feel better?”  he asked.

“I think I do,” she grinned.

“Less tense?” he asked running a finger down the center of her damp, slightly furred belly.

She giggled and batted his hand away, “Stop that, I’m still sensitive.”

“Your belly?” he asked.

“Everywhere,” she answered as she adjusted her legs separating her thighs a little so they were not touching.

“Oh,” he said showing his confusion, “I’ll have to ask my mother about that . . . the lingering effects of . . .” he mused searching for the appropriate words.

“Ask your mother?” she spurted, “You’re going to discuss our . . . our . . . with your mother?”

“She not just my mother, she’s a teacher, a healer of sorts.  She’ll know what to expect.  With her knowledge, she can make things easier for you.”

“You just did,” Vesta said squirming a little drawing his eyes to the tawny V of her mound.

“I’m just a tool, she . . .” he began.

“A tool . . .” Vesta laughed.

“Not like that,” he laughed with her, “You know what I mean.”

She nodded, “I do, but I like how you give therapy and your mother might not think it was such a good idea you being her son and all.”

“She’s not like that, really.  Revelers are different.  We aren’t hung up on all the taboos that humans are.”

“But mothers are the same, protective of their brood.”

“You’re going to have to meet her soon, Vesta.  You’re ripening and your first transformation is approaching.  You’ll want to know what to expect and you’ll want to be in a safe place where you’ll be cared for.”

“I feel safe here, with you,” she said in a soft almost pleading voice that made him want to protect her, the bull coming out, but he knew that she needed more than he could give.

“I can’t care for you here.  It isn’t safe.”

“How much time do you think I have before it . . . happens?”

“A few months, but I’m not the expert. That’s why you need to be examined by my mother.”  He felt her growing resistance in the hesitant way she spoke and the way her body stiffened and turned slightly away.  He didn’t want her to feel like that, like he was the Gestapo and she was some kind of revolutionary.  The idea made him want to laugh because he wasn’t that kind of guy.  He was a loner himself, but he was sure that was how she felt and he didn’t want her to think of him as one of ‘them’, someone who would ‘turn her in’.  He wanted her to like him, but he wanted her to be safe, and he was also his mother’s son.  So, he knew that she would eventually have to be contained for the safety of their people.

 

 

Va knew that Aileen would be hard at work.  She rarely took lunch choosing to order in or bring something that she ate while she worked at her computer.  There had been a protracted silence between them, nearly two weeks.  He worried about her, knew she wanted a baby, but she didn’t know that he wasn’t human, didn’t know that her baby might not be human either.  After the whole thing with Deena and the worries she had about Vesta, he’d begun to think that maybe Deena was right.  Vesta’s uncertainty endangered all Revelers; this blood mixing was a precarious thing at best.  At first, he was convinced that it might be better if Aileen aborted the baby early, before she began to think of it as a person, before she became attached.  He had needed time to think and Aileen had obliged him or vice versa.  Whatever.  The result had been the same, but now he missed her, had been missing her for days.  He’d dreamt about her last night, her warm body tucked next to his, his nose nudging her sweetly scented neck. When he’d awakened and found that he was alone, he felt bereft.  As he’d dressed this morning, he made up his mind that he would see her today. He figured he’d take her out to lunch, maybe pick up some shawarmas at Bucharest.  They could eat them at Chene Park where the river was bluest.  Today the sky was cloudless and the sun was bright and high in the sky.  Va smiled to himself as he grabbed his keys and left the office.  They’d figure something out.  Cen and Gavin were doing it, and Aileen was something special.

Warm bag in hand, he was happy and impatient as he rode the empty elevator up to her office.  He was surprised to find that she wasn’t seated, nose to the screen, in her usual place.  But sure that she hadn’t gone far, he decided to wait.  Placing the still warm bag on the edge of her desk, he glanced around pleased by the well ordered surroundings.  Everything had its place here; evidence of Aileen’s efficiency.  The sun and the sleek line of the river drew him to the large window where he took up his vigil.

Laughter, someone, a man and a woman were laughing.  He turned towards the glass door just as Aileen pulled it open.  Just behind her was her artist friend, Caleb.  He held a large parcel covered in brown paper and tied with twine.

“Never,” she was laughing and saying when she spotted Va standing near the window. “Hey,” she greeted Va all merriment leaving her face and her voice. Surprise and something that looked like guilt replaced them.

Va nodded a silent greeting.

“You remember Caleb,” she said.

Va nodded in Caleb’s direction.

“Look,” Caleb said leaning the parcel against a nearby wall, “I’ll come back another time to hang this for you.”

“Thanks,” she said and Caleb leaned in to hug her. She hugged him back and then with a nod in Va’s direction, he left.

“What’s that?” Va asked.

“A gift,” she said.

“You and he have reignited your friendship.”

“I agreed to pose for him again,” Aileen said.

“Really?  What made you decide to do that?”

“He asked.”

And you just give him whatever he asks for, Va thought, but refused to say.  He had no right to be surly.  In truth, she owed him nothing.

“I thought you might want lunch,” Va said as Aileen touched the bag he’d left on her desk.

“We ate, but that was thoughtful,” she sounded dismissive, the thoughtful almost a taunt.

“I thought we could talk,” he said.

“OK, talk,” she said as she put her purse in a drawer and took her seat behind the desk.

“I don’t know if here is the best place to talk,” he said flexing his shoulders as he suddenly began to feel confined by the immaculately tailored suit jacket.  She was watching him.  He shrugged trying to conceal his discomfort.

“I don’t think it really matters where,” she said turning on her computer, “Just tell me what you have to say.”  She didn’t mean to sound cross, but he hadn’t called or come by in nearly two weeks, not since she’d decided to be completely honest with him.

“I think we ought to talk about the future,” Va said watching her hoping she’d give him some clue as to how to proceed.

 

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