The Revelers – Chapter 8

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“What changes have you noticed so far?” Stem asked.

Suddenly shy, Vesta looked away and took a long sip of tea from her mug.

Stem said nothing. He simply watched and waited, knowing that she would speak when she was ready.

“Well,” she began, “There’s like this hair . . . no . . . it’s like fur, that runs the length of my spine.” She looked quickly at Stem to see his reaction; he was smiling.

“It’s not funny,” she said. “I was devastated until my mother used a depilatory to remove it.”

“Too bad,” he said still smiling. “Sounds really sexy,” he added wiggling his eyebrows.

Vesta laughed and shook her head at his playfulness clearly relieved by his nonchalance. “And then there’s this nub at the base of my spine. So far it’s about the size of quarter and its sort of downy covered like a baby chick,” she said softly, “Mom, says it’s the beginning of a tail,” she looked to him for confirmation.

Stem crossed his legs as though he were a bit uncomfortable. When he saw her watching him he smiled and nodded.

His nod confirmed her fear. “She says it will recede within a year or so,” Vesta added quickly.

“Probably,” Stem said. “But a new tail, that’s hot. I mean really.”

Vesta grinned, “This is so weird. You are weird.”

“Thanks,” he said. “What else?”

“I’m flushed all the time. I mean, my body is always over heated and . . . and I think about things . . . I mean,” she stopped abruptly and sipped her tea.

“Some of that’s probably normal human hormones, but it’s likely enhanced by your Reveler genes. When we approach the change our sexual desires increase. It’s a part of an overall sensory refinement that’s occurring within your body. It’s perfectly normal,” he said.

In an effort to make her feel comfortable, he was smiling on the outside, but inside he was tightly coiled. He was drawn to her. Maybe it was the chemicals her body was secreting because of her imminent change or maybe it was that she was simply appealing. Whatever it was, he wanted to slip his hands into the back of her pants and stroke the downy covered nub of her tail. And that would just be the beginning. He could think of a number of things he wanted to do with his tongue and teeth and fingers. She was a beauty, all softness and fresh-faced youth, unspoiled and he was especially drawn to the tentativeness in her voice, the quiet tones that told him how much she needed him, how much she revered his word, an age-old relationship that too often served as an aphrodisiac.   But she wasn’t for him. She had come for his help, and he wouldn’t forgive himself if he took advantage of her vulnerability. It was true that the Revelers view of sex was void of the layers of taboo and restrictions that hampered many humans, but the fact was that she was half human and had no knowledge of Reveler ways.

“As time passes,” he began after a brief pause, “you will be able to control most of the changes that can occur in your body.”

“But mother said that it can’t always be done at will, the changes I mean.”

“And she’s right,” he nodded, “especially by those like yourself who are so new to the change. But as time goes on and you become more familiar, more comfortable with who you are you can initiate change,” he said as he held out his arm and willed his fur to grow.

Soon the extended arm was covered with a tawny fur. Vesta reached out in awe, burying her fingers in its lushness. Her touch sent a surge through Stem and he shivered.

“Sorry,” she said pulling her hand back when she felt the trembling.

“It’s OK,” he said and willed the fur to recede.

Vesta couldn’t take her eyes off his arm as she watched the fur evaporate.

“In the beginning, the change controlled me as I guess it does most of us early on. But, overtime I learned, probably quicker than most. It helped that my mother is a teacher, a scholar of our physiology and culture,” he said proudly.

“Can you teach me to do that?” she asked.

“It takes time, and you haven’t been through your first change, but there are some things I can teach you,” he said.

“I’d really like that,” Vesta said, “I’ve never been a great student, but this is different. This is important.”

She was looking at him as though he was a great man, her savior, and he found that he wanted be just that.




Va escorted Aileen to Caleb’s exhibit. It was well attended and the gallery wasn’t very large consisting of only two rooms. But the rooms were a good size and the canvases were well-spaced giving attendees time and space to ponder each piece. A number of older, poshly dressed, obviously wealthy couples perused the paintings, which were large-scale portraits of men and women; some full-length while others were close-ups of intriguing faces. Va had to admit that, as an artist, Caleb was talented.

There was a contingent of hipster and very artsy looking young people, some of who were Caleb’s students. Apparently, he taught a class at the College for Creative Studies. They surged around Caleb and kept him busy, flattering him and asking questions. When they weren’t in tow, the gallery owner was introducing him to prospective buyers or reviewers.

Initially, it was a pleasant affair where an adequate wine was served and Va had Aileen to himself as they made their way through the rooms. But that was short lived when Caleb broke away from his admirers to claim Aileen insisting that he had to introduce her to someone or other and Aileen had gone off with him, albeit reluctantly.

Va, left alone for what he felt was much too long, had been reluctant to reclaim Aileen. He wanted her to come back to him without prodding. From the other side of the room and out of the corner of his eye, he watched the way Caleb leaned towards her, the way his arm snaked around her shoulders, how she laughed up at him when he said something that she apparently found funny. The wine, which he’d found palatable when he was standing next to Aileen, now tasted rancid. He placed his glass on a passing tray.   After awhile, he found himself moving towards her. When he was near, she turned to him and pulled him to her side. He went without hesitation.

Later, back at his apartment, he had stripped her and buried his face in the dew between her legs relentlessly bringing her to a peak and pushing her over its edge again and again as she scored the sheets with her fingers.

When he’d had his fill and she laid limp and purring, he’d undressed as she watched, eyes bright while the tip of her tongue teased her lips. He loved it when she did that. He loved that tongue. He loved her mouth. And then he was kissing her, his skin against hers, her fingers on his back, pulling him up her body, urging him forward. Hot skin rasping against hotter luscious, deeply resilient skin.

He was so hard he could barely breath. And then the head of his cock had found its way and was dipping into her wet heat. She groaned, a soft feather sound that teased his ear. He pressed deeper and she moaned an eager welcome. He sank even deeper, burrowing into her, the tight walls reluctantly yielding. Lifting her legs, she cradled his hips with her thighs. And then he was lost in her heated depths, his hands cupping the plush cheeks of her ass so that he could hold her still, so that she would feel the reverberation of each thrust.

He wanted her to feel him; he wanted to bury himself in her sweetness. She squirmed beneath, pressing herself against him, trying to pull him closer. He couldn’t get deep enough and soon he was ramming into her, each plunge creating a delicious friction that caused his body to tighten until it ignited and he could no longer contain the fire. He held himself up, hands flat and arms stiff as he came, his body surging forward as it released the molten liquid. Beneath him, Aileen held him deep inside her, her body trembling as the walls of her sex squeezed and vibrated around his throbbing cock. And then she was pulling him down and kissing his face.

Finally, he bent to return her kiss and then slid down to lie next her. He pulled her close, her head on his shoulder, and as they lay contented in his bed, he felt somewhat vindicated.


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