Siren

Scarce little alleviates your vertigo like a sharp sea-born breeze; the same kind of breeze currently blowing against your back so coldly. Sweat has your shirt cling damply to your skin and each gust of wind digs the chill deeper into your spine as it saps the heat from you. Of course, this kind of breeze only works to settle your senses so long as your eyes are squeezed shut.

Like a gluttonous masochist, you wait a moment before looking down for another purchase to grab. The earth swims and sways and for a brief moment it strikes you as odd, as you lower yourself down tentatively, toeing the cliff wall cautiously until you feel a ledge sturdy enough to hold your weight. Odd; not that the ground beneath you heaves – that much is common enough – but that you still suffer from vertigo at all. You make this climb on a near daily basis; you’d think you’d have grown used to it by now considering you know the beach below like you know the back of your hand.

Though, perhaps in your own way you have learned to cope with it or at least mitigate its severity somewhat. Thinking back, it’s nowhere near as bad now as it once was. Now that was a bad first impression.

A blush that has nothing to do with the sunlight beating down upon you spreads across your cheeks as you make your careful, wary way down the cliff face. It’s a warm day relatively speaking, but that was only if you stood - or hung - directly under the rays of the sun. Linger in the shadow too long and the frigid north breeze would quickly work to chill you to the bone. But at least it was better than no sun.

As the thought crosses your mind, an errant cloud in the mist-spattered sky robs you of even that. The fingers clinging to the rock wall grow white as you tense and fight back a powerful shudder, setting your jaw to avoid clacking. You look down. Waves crash against the base of the cliff, smearing its slick wet surface in sea-foam and flowing over the small secluded beach and its myriad sandbanks, leaving rivulets and deep pools amidst the jagged rocks and fine sands.

The cloud passes, allowing the sun’s warmth to resume sinking into your body.

Releasing one handhold in favour of another you abandon your previous foothold and look for one lower. You feel and toe around until you hit upon a ledge. Carefully, you test it with a fraction of your bodyweight and then a fraction more. It stays true and you descend lower.

There were longer, yet safer ways onto the beach such as by boat, but you enjoy the climb, enjoy the seaborne breeze and the burn in your muscles. You could do without the vertigo though. That and you have a certain level of protection from falling and dashing yourself upon the sands and rocks below, so it’s not actually as treacherous as it would first seem.

Well, when that very safety measure isn’t actively tempting your fate that is. It was about time for them to wake. And no doubt she planned yet another trick for you.

There is scant more mischievous than a young siren and even fewer beings yet have a trickster streak that runs deeper than the youngest of the sisters that lurk this beach, abetted not the least by her peculiar sing-song enchantments.

You continue climbing down, lost in your thoughts and in the sounds of the waves breaking upon the cliff. But something draws your attention and you hesitate, hearing an ill melody drifting on the wind. The sisters are either awake and singing some way off, or this is a residual…

You sniff - a strikingly alien scent considering your surroundings - and the rock in front of you blushes. A rock that smells sweet, feminine and vaguely of mountain flowers. Your handhold grows progressively softer and in an instant the melodic illusion vanishes, revealing a young siren stuck to the face of the cliff, her back to the rock and her wings fanned out, the talons upon it clutching at the handholds in the rock face and her long tail weaving in between the crags, grabbing purchase. Her arms are by her side, clutching at yet more rock.

Her nose is barely a few centimetres from your own and you gaze into her eyes, a striking golden.

“You smell good,” her blush deepens, “What is that?”

“P-perfume, I found it washed up on the beach.”

Your eyes drift to the hand cupping her large, full breast, the pink nipple poking out between two fingers. Gently, you let go and take a hold on a rock jutting out to her side. “You didn’t really think this through did you?”

“…No. I thought I’d just scare you, make you jump… or something.”

“You know I can hear your magic… Maybe you should put a little more thought into your tricks?”

“Um…” You can practically hear her heart pounding in her chest. Of all the sisters, she was the youngest and crushing hard. An innocent, selfish kind of puppy love. “You’re really close. Could you..?”

“Want me to climb lower?” you look pointedly down at her toned belly and where the skin meets scales.

“N-no… I’ll carry you down. Just don’t say anything to Melusine, okay?”

“Sure. She’d probably kill me too if she were to see us this close. ” Melusine was the oldest by far, closer to a mother than a sister to the two younger sirens. She was the oldest, the biggest and the strongest. And she was the one who laid claim to you. Not that you minded. Melinor was the wayward middle child and Palatyne the youngest, the most spoiled and the most mischievous. Her heart was as golden as her eyes though and the girl was remarkably docile when put on the back foot as seen now thanks to her failed prank.

She holds you in a hug and flinches a bit as you wrap your arms around her in turn, holding her close. Or holding yourself close to her, as would soon be necessary. You rest your chin on her shoulder, hugging her as tightly as you can, squeezing your eyes shut and preparing yourself . And for a few seconds nothing happens.

You open your eyes, “… You okay?”

She starts, “U-uh, yeah, sorry.” She holds you tighter and you close your eyes again, feeling rather than watching her separate from the face of the cliff and beginning to plummet. You hear a powerful whoosh as her wings spread out and lurch as she pulls out of her dive, circling in the air once before letting you down upon the sands below.

Her tail touches down first, the tip digging into the sand and coiling upon itself like a spring, absorbing the impact of your weight combined. Your head swims at the sudden drop and landing and you stumble a bit as she lets you go. The sand gives a satisfying squeak as your heel sinks in. It’s cool.

She giggles as she straightens her hair, “Still not good with heights?”

Your blush returns, “Uh, no. I guess not.”

She looks at you curiously, already forgetting her previous embarrassment, “What did you bring this time?”

You lean to the left and reach over to your right shoulder to grip the strap of the small bag hanging by your hip, “quick-bread, butter and honey” Its contents rustle about as you hand it to the younger siren, “Don’t open it, it’s trapping the heat. I’m going to go for a little swim first. Where are the others?”

“Lin is out hunting and Mel is out there somewhere.” She points a finger out into toward deep swirling depths.

“Well, I’m sure Mel will find me. I’ll be back in a bit.” You turn around and head off to the water’s edge, stripping down to your trousers as you do so, leaving behind a trail of clothes, socks and shoes. You dip a toe in the frigid ocean and withdraw it with a hiss, as if burnt. Waters are especially cold today.

You clench your fist and mutter an incantation and a strange sensation spreads across your body, like being covered in room temperature wax. You can still feel the breeze, but its icy bite has been lost entirely. A handy trick. You wade into the ocean, feeling the water lap up against your skin, but neither warm nor cold. Not even room temperature.

You hold your breath and dive, grabbing at the sand of the beach and crawling ever deeper, an eye out for any baubles. Soon, you begin to run out of breath and the surrounding waters grow steeply darker.  The water is black, murky and you can barely make anything out. You breathe out the last of your breath in a stream of bubbles and utter another wordless incantation under the deadening silence.

It takes a moment to kick in, but just as the burning in your lungs becomes too much, the murky depths flash with light and you take in a lungful of icy ocean waters, breathing it with ease. You survey the depths with your enchanted eyes. There was much more floating about than usual, the culprit another, fresh carcass of a hull upon the sandy bed, broken and battered.

The last batches of storms were fierce indeed. You look down at the shattered ship and up at the debris floating upon the surface, wondering what its cargo was. It feels vaguely familiar. You make a note of where the new addition to the graveyard of ships lay and decide to return when you have Mel with you. Much safer that way, you probably weren’t the first curious soul to note the newcomer.

For now, you look around for something more immediate. Directly below you and a bit to the left is a bundle of chests and boxes, wrapped in net and snagged on some jagged rocks.  You dive down, reaching for the knife strapped to your leg. A faithful, sturdy tool.

You kick and right yourself, grabbing at a piece of netting, rope as thick as your thumb and start sawing. Tiny clouds of fibres rise as you cut into the material, rope by rope until you loosen enough that you can untangle it all. There’s a securely locked chest that you hope is watertight and another few crates that obviously aren’t.

The lids seem to be hammered and wedged into place, but your knife is more than thick and sturdy enough to use as a lever. The plank of wood pops free and drifts away, revealing the insides, bundles of cloth and further down stacks of swords.

You swim over to another crate and crack it open. This one is full of arrows, the next full of what looks like salted and preserved meats. The ship seems to be carrying war cargo. Supplies, armaments, ammunition. You put your knife away and float in silence, wondering about the best way to go about selling the stuff.

You drift over to a nearby rock and sit. Maybe it’s best to hide some of the weapons and sell off everything else. It looks like cargo some people would be sorely missing. Catching their eye and their ire may not be a good thing. You place a hand out and lean on a part of the rock, lost in thought. That pensiveness is very quickly interrupted by a sharp, shearing pain.

You hiss, an expletive stream of bubbles spurting past your lips. A dense cloud of red begins to spread, seeping out of the deep cut in your hand. Knowing that bleeding in the ocean was more or less akin to walking around Lyonesse with your cock out, you rise off the rocks and begin to kick for the surface.

It doesn’t take especially long for the first curious soul to be lured in towards you. It moves, a huge, dark green shadow in the depths. It would be utterly invisible if not for the charms you cast upon yourself, widening your range of vision. Your heart tightens in anticipation, on the very brink of flooding your system with adrenaline.  Flight isn’t such an option when burdened down by untold fathoms of ocean. Fight it is. The large shadow moves and twists in the water with the grace of a hunter and it’s not until it gets closer you relax. You recognise the crimson streaks in her scales and little else in these waters has both a long tail and wings.

The tail is long and dextrous, not unlike a snake’s, but visually has more in common with that of a mermaid’s only instead of ending with a fish-like tail, it ends in a sharp fin that looks more like the blade of a scythe - a notable feature that of the three sisters only she has. Starting roughly where her human half meets that of the siren are two long lateral fins that extend down a third of her tail.

The siren’s wings are folded close to her body, used only minimally to push at the waters, closer in shape and design to the wings of some kind of bat rather than any bird. Too thin, delicate and graceful to be the wings of a dragon, though at a glance you could be forgiven for thinking so. They rise out of the base of her spine - just as skin meets scale - though the wings are so large that when fully extended the “wrist” of her appendage comes up roughly in line with her head. When she swims as she is now, they tuck up to her body and act more like larger fins.

Melusine rushes up to and circles you, checking your body and the waters around the two of you for the source of the blood. She opens her wings as she swings back around to face you, coming to a concerned stop.

“Are you okay?” Her enchantress voice cuts through the water clearly. You nod and show her your hand.

She looks at it for a moment before sighing in relief, “Geeze, it’s too early in the morning for scares like that.” She opens her arms wide and pulls you into a hug, her wings wrapping around the both of you, “I missed you.” You are practically engulfed by her, the siren being far larger than most men. Though proportionally feminine - with slim shoulders and a thin waist - to scale her shoulders are far broader than yours. She is in essence, a big girl.

Being naked, as a siren usually is, her large breasts press up against your chest, covering half of it and burying your face in soft bosom. Below that, her toned and muscled belly rubs up to yours, the kind of toned you get by swimming and slithering all day with a wiggle of your hips.

You break away from her overwhelming embrace, wanting to say that it’s only been a day, but your voice comes out as a stream of muffled bubbles. She laughs, “I know, I know. Still. Let me look at that hand.” She lets you out of the hug and takes your hand in hers, thumbs hooking about your thumb and pinky, spreading your hand open. You wince as the wound opens and a cloud of blood rises, thicker than the last.

Her long tongue slips out from between her lips and you struggle to put her predatory expression out of your mind. Your hand grows tingly and hot as she licks down the wound, each lash of her tongue sealing it bit by bit. She gives it a kiss once she is done and smiles, “All better.”

With your hand released, you open and close it, testing the wound. No pain. She brushes your fringe aside and rests her hand on the side of your face, thumb stroking at your temple. You can’t help but press your head into her hand, not unlike a cat. She smiles as she gazes into your eyes and you take a moment to absorb the beauty before you. No matter how many times you do, you never grow bored.

For who could, when gazing into those deep green eyes? How could you possibly, when those bright red flecks reflect the light in such marvellous and enrapturing ways? Not to mention her elegant, thin and symmetrical facial structure. Nor could you tire of the slight seductive slant to her eyes and her long, cutely peculiar ears, a mix of fin and elven that parts her hair and sticks out regally.

And her lips… they curl into a wider smile that flashes her sharp, shark-like teeth as if she was reading your mind and she leans in for a kiss that you gladly return. You slip your arms around the small of her back and pull her in close. Her long hair flows about you like kelp, so darkly green as to be black in the dim light, a gradient introducing a dark red about half way down.

She takes a plain and evident joy in the kiss, her long lithe tail wrapping about your legs possessively. You stay joined for a long while, kept in the same spot by the gentle movements of her wings, akin to the sorts you would make while treading water.

Relaxing in her grip, you close your eyes and focus on your sense of touch. Her soft lips press into your own and her mouth opens, tongue poking at your teeth. Her hand slides up your back to grip at the nape of your neck and she holds you in place, pinned. Her other slips down into your trousers and you can almost hear her purr as she fondles and strokes your growing length. You give, and allow her probing tongue to seek out yours and wrap about it. Even through your protective incantations you can tell that on the surface, her body is cold as ice but inside is warm. Smoulderingly so.

Her hot wet tongue flicks about inside your mouth, ensnaring your own. You fight back, pushing into her and she lets out a low sighing moan as her hand closes around your cock fully and she pulls it out into the water. You stop pushing against each other and settle for a happy medium, meeting in the middle.

Deep breaths drag in lungfuls of water slowly, rhythmically and you feel her chest rise in tandem with yours. Your fingers stroke up and down her spine, feeling where the skin of her back turns to scale at the very centre. You brush along the retractable thorn-like quills along the middle, each one about four inches long and curving downward, not unlike a row of thin dorsal fins. Each touch has her quivering and writhing in your grasp, hugging you tighter, more possessively.

She mimics your stroking motions, only rather than teasing your spine, her soft fingers caress and dance along the throbbing length of your erection. Your prick thickens, hard in the way only she can make you and she gives it a tight, playful squeeze. You tense as she rubs the sensitive head of your manhood along her lower belly, and jump as you feel it flick over her hard clit before it presses into her tight entrance. She doesn’t urge you to penetrate though, and you don’t thrust. Instead, she keeps stroking your length while winning back ground in the battle of kisses.

You put up a mighty resistance, groping her scaled rump fiercely and making light teasing prods against her slit. Ultimately though, you surrender. To the kiss and to her fingers experienced ministrations. Your loins clench as you spurt out a load of wasted seed, smearing her entrance, belly and tail. Sadly, she watches a rope of it disintegrate in the water, as if only just realizing her wastefulness. You take a moment to breathe and grin, offering her a light kiss on the lips.

She shakes her head and grins back. “Blood and cum. Something tells me we won’t be alone for very long. Let’s head up.”

You nod and wrap your arms around her obediently as she wraps hers around you. Her tail uncoils from around your legs and her wings unfurl. With a mighty push she uses them to propel you both upwards. Her tail cuts at the waters, aiding in the propulsion until you break the surface and her momentum carries her up into the air not unlike a jumping fish.

Only this fish has wings, and she spreads them out and pushes up, effortlessly sloughing off the water and carrying the two of you up into the air. You hear her laugh as you squeeze your eyes shut and she holds your head to her bosom securely.

The sudden difference in pressure makes you light headed and you hold on extra tight. She swoops down, correcting herself at the last moment, coming into a graceful landing with the tip of her tail first, absorbing the momentum.

She lets you go and straightens her wet hair. They were so similar, the three.

“So what did you bring?”

“Bread and honey.”

She grins, “Ooh!  I haven’t tasted honey in a while.” She slips up behind you and wraps her arms around your shoulders, climbing onto your back and wrapping much of her tail around your torso, “Lead on.” She isn’t as heavy as perhaps a creature of her size ought to be.

“I left it with Palatyne. Let’s go find her.”

“She should be in her room, but speaking of… why can I smell her on you?”

You gulp at her change in tone, “I uh… slipped. She caught me.”

“Hmmm.” She doesn’t sound like she buys your story but she isn’t pressing either. “You’re just lucky you don’t smell like sex.”

“I bet you aim to change that though.”

A light giggle leaves her, “Yeah. But then it wold be okay,” She leans down next to your ear and gives it a little bite, “Because then you’d smell like my sex.” Her possessive emphasis on “my” alights certain anticipations within you. You shake your head in an attempt to clear it of the conjured fantasies, no small feat when you consider the soft presence of her breasts upon your back or her pointed teeth nipping at the tips of your ears.

The wet sand squeaks as you tread across it, leaving behind a trail of footsteps headed towards the cave and a thinner trail as Melusine’s tail drags through the sand behind you. If you look closely enough you can see various other tracks left behind by the sirens’ slithering tails. Often, the ones leaving the direction of the cave cut off. Little reason for a winged creature to not fly if they have places to go.

The mouth of the cave itself is partially submerged at all times, more or less depending on the tides. It’s off to the right of the beach, under such an illusion as to appear as solid rock wall to most but in truth, the mouth of the cave was large enough to row a small boat inside of, presuming you know where to row to avoid the large jagged rocks. The cave is particularly spacious and has a single large room and three smaller private chambers, one to a sister each.

Melusine unwinds herself from around you as you step off the beach and slide into the water. You barely get a kick in before she slips an arm around you and drags you under, a playful grin on her face. A swirl of bubbles blind you as you spin and before you know it she’s found her way under you and behind your back. She gives your neck a few kisses before sliding up your body until you find your head resting between her breasts.

Her hands cross over on your chest and you lay your own hands atop hers. The roof of the cave shimmers above the surface and the two of you float to the top. You lie on her like she were some kind of floating bed, tail being just wide enough for you to comfortably cross one ankle over the other, her wings spread out,555 offering more than enough balance to keep you both upright. The water inside the grotto is tranquil and still, only rising and falling with the tides, the other motions of the ocean broken upon rocks before they reach the interior.

You stare up at the grotto roof and watch the patterns of light as they reflect off it. The place certainly hasn’t come about naturally. Murals are carved into the domed stone ceiling up above, the light playing off the shadows hewn into the rock. Tiny streams thread through the beach that rises out of the lapping saltwater, its thin lines twisting through the sands creating decorative runes and circles, faintly glowing, offering the chamber an ethereal light. The same could be said of the three other rooms cut out of the rock, made with deliberate purpose in mind.

The whole sanctuary was littered in furniture, most of which was brought up as salvage from sunken ships but some of it was hand made by Mel. There is no lack for luxury in this siren’s den. There’s even a rack off to the side of the large chamber, laden with kegs and barrels that the sisters weren’t shy about cracking open. Living here would certainly not be a trial for you.

Melusine’s fingers dance along your chest and she sighs. “Why not come and live here, with me?”

“Reading my mind?”

“I can tell when you’re feeling pensive”

“You know I’d love to.”

“I know.”

“And you know I can’t.”

She lets out another sigh, “I know. But can’t you just sell the store? I doubt your father would have wanted you to remain there forever.”

“You didn’t know the old prick. That apothecary is all he left me. I had to drop out of college just to keep it running. If I’d let it rot, he’d spin in his grave.”

“And?”

“No, you don’t understand, I mean it literally. He’d probably rise from the dead just to make a fuss, I’d never hear the end of it.”

A quiet moment of contemplative silence takes her. “You don’t really speak much about him. What was he like?”

“Dad? Purist from the Imperial Capital.” You can almost hear her lips twist in distaste. She lets out a disgusted sound. “Yeah. Always hated Thule and the way it would do business with any one. Beats me why he set up shop in Stenholm.”

“You don’t sound like you liked him. Why honour what he left behind?”

“No, I… I mean he was my father after all. At the end of the day I guess I’m a family man.”

“Mmm. So why did the apple fall so far?”

“Too many people. Races. Too many ideas floating around in those college halls to keep your mind closed off like that. There was this stall I would always have lunch at. It seasoned its food with spices traded from the black dwarves under Rokkr. You don’t eat something like that, day in, day out and turn around to say ‘kill all monsters’.”

The two of you jolt to a stop as she floats all the way to the ‘shore’ of the private little grotto and lands upon it. You lift her arms off you and twist, coming face to face with the siren. Her steady gaze bores into you, sees all of you and devours you whole. You can only hold eye contact for a few moments before a self-conscious blush comes to your cheeks and you hide it by going in for a quick kiss.

Your intentions are more than transparent to her but she pulls you in all the same and accepts it. After a moment you part and stand, dusting sand off your wet knees and shins, at the same time feeling the enchantments upon yourself slough off like water. “You could live with me instead.”

“Live with humans? Maybe a few hundred years ago.”

You grin, “Well I don’t mind sneaking off every now and then. Makes it feel naughty.” She giggles and you look around, searching for Palatyne, only to see that her chamber is empty and the only noise in the cave comes from the two of you. Your bag is on a table in the centre, unopened. “Where are the others?”

Melusine lifts herself up and slithers over to the table, sitting down upon a seat of coils. “Off doing their own thing most likely. Now, where’s that honey…” You join her at the table and take a chair next to her, watching with a faint smile on your face as she opens the bag and a waft of steam rolls out, the heat kept in by the salamander scale lining of the bag. She grins like a cat with cream.

 “Are you going to save any for your sisters?”

She smirks, “I don’t see them here, do you?” she reaches into the bag and takes out the two jars, its contents mostly melted by now, a jar of honey and a jar of butter. She places them aside on the table and twists off the lids before reaching in for a knife.

Heat billows upwards as she tears open one of the hot buns of bread, making hungry siren noises as she watches the waft of steam rise. She wastes no time in grabbing the knife and smearing the bread with butter and honey. You watch as she blows on it - clearly impatient to begin eating - then pops it into her mouth.

She chews, sighing blissfully while already buttering up the other half. This she offers to you though, holding it up for you to bite. You do so, feeding from her hand. The butter is fresh and the honey is of an amazing quality, but then you already knew that, it’s why you bought it.

The bread is nothing to scoff at either, though to say too much of it would only be to sing your own praises. At least Melusine is enjoying it. You eat your fill and sigh contentedly, watching as she takes another bun of bread, tears it in half, butters it and smears on way too much honey. Acting innocent she brings it to her mouth, honey dripping from her fingers and smearing across her bosom. She eats the sweet-laden bread and looks down, gasping in a painfully fake shock.

“Oh my, I’ve made a mess.” She turns to you, sticking her large chest out and holding her breasts up for your observation.

You raise an eyebrow, “You weren’t really trying to not make a mess.”

“Perhaps, but that doesn’t change the fact that there is now a mess.” She shoots you a sly grin, and gives her breasts a little jiggle. “How ever shall we clean it?”

You roll your eyes but decide to play her game all the same, slipping off your chair and into her coils. With a feather touch, you brush over her scales absently, and lean in to lick the honey off her busty bosom. Your tongue draws trails in the thick viscous substance, circling a line of honey around her nipple before latching on with your lips and sucking.

Mel squirms and you feel her fingers stroke through your hair as she offers quiet sounds of pleasure. You catch her nipple between tongue and tooth and pull your head back until the bud pops from your lips with a jiggling bounce and the siren offers a pleasured gasp.

Her bust glistens, licked clean of the sticky sweet honey and you revel in your handiwork, moving back in to toy with her nipples more. She wraps her arms about you and holds your face into her chest, falling back and dragging you along with her. Head buried in siren bosom and cocooned in wing and scale, you can’t think of too many places you’d rather be.

You slip your arms around her and let yourself go limp in her embrace, twisting your head to a side just so you aren’t smothered in breasts. Not that you couldn’t die happy and proudly look your ancestors in the eye were it the case.

Warm honey and bread sits heavily in your stomach and you can’t help but lament your lack of foresight. Something to drink would be nice. You state as much, voicing a rudderless whine that Melusine takes up.

“Something to drink?” She gives a low, vaguely sinister chuckle and begins to shift in place, moving you about until you find yourself almost cradled in a lap of coiling mer-tail. The siren looms over you, wings splayed out like a protective curtain and you can’t help but be enthralled as she sings an enchantment that has her breasts swell. Her tits fatten and grow fuller. Excitement stirs within you as you watch a bead of milk form at her nipple before rolling down the globe and splatting thickly against scale, “Milk and honey go well together.”

You gulp and nod your assent, throat suddenly dry. Milk and honey do go well together. You wiggle back and sit up, reaching to hold a breast each. The lightest squeeze has that single bead turn into a small, squirting stream. She slips an arm around your back and holds you in place as you focus on her nipples. Warm milk runs over your fingers and a stirring hunger takes you.

She bites back a gasp as you wrap your lips around her left and closest nipple, sucking just strongly enough to get a decent flow of thick, creamy milk. As a poikilothermic creature, her milk is pleasantly lukewarm, not too dissimilar from the room temperature of the cave. The taste however is far more complex to describe. The base tastes like the kind of milk one would expect, if of the rich and luxurious kind, but then there were more subtle hints of flavours lying below, like the slightest touch of sea-salt and the floral, ghostly hint of branched asphodel.

You swallow it down greedily, relishing in the comforting weight as it sits in your stomach, alone with your belated breakfast. She caresses your back as you drink from her with long calming strokes, but the more you drink the more agitated you grow. In a single, very specific place, as if there were some aphrodisiacal effect buried deep within the milk.

Almost as if counting upon it, the siren’s other hand begins to stroke the inside of your thigh, rubbing ever higher until her graceful, delicate fingers are sneaking into your pants and rubbing at the slowly hardening length of your cock. She smiles maternally, “That’s it,” her encouraging, vaguely musical coos sink soothingly into your mind and your dick twitches in her hand in response, “Drink as much as you can and get nice and hard.”

Her fingers wrap around the base of your growing erection and she fishes it out of your pants, unbridled hunger in her gaze. Her hand glides up the stiffening length, palm gliding over the head and collecting the pre-cum that starts to bead at the top. You wince as her soft, smooth skin rubs against the very, very sensitive head of your cock before stroking down the underside.

Your hips twitch as her hand presses up to your groin, a small involuntary thrust to dig deeper into her womanhood, your primal urges fooled and toyed with by her talented touch. Her fist closes tighter as you do so, creating a cock-hugging tunnel of soft and smooth palm. Slow, silken strokes have your loins clenching and your girth throbbing in her grips, each blood-coursing lurch accompanied by another mouthful of warm milk. You swallow a last time before letting her nipple go, sparing a moment to watch the wobbling softness before directing your attentions to her other breast.

You shift about and slip an arm behind her, feeling her muscles tighten up as your fingers brush the quill-like fins along her back. Your free hand rests lightly on her tight and toned tummy and dances down southwards, fingers playing down the middle crevice between her abs. Her wings flutter as you circle her other nipple with your tongue before sucking on it and drawing out a thicker stream of siren milk, but their fluttering doesn’t compare to the full-body shiver as your fingers crest her mons pubis and rub across her clit before sinking into her soaking wet folds.

The pace at which she strokes your cock turns into a quick pumping motion, matching each slick prod with your fingers as they plunge into her pussy. You hear tail whipping through the sand as she gets worked up. You look to her face and see her ear-fins flicking, her eyes closed and her bottom lip bitten.

Your mouth curls in delight at the effect you’re having on her, but that isn’t to say that it’s not a two way street. You’re quickly reminded of that as her pumping grows more vigorous and her thumb swirls around the tip of your cock with each upstroke. The added sensation has your hips shaking and you struggle not to bite down too hard on the nipple in your mouth. You’re close, but more importantly you can tell she is too.

You gulp down a final mouthful of milk and lean back, groaning as your balls clench and you begin to spurt your load. Ivory streams of cum arc high before falling over her hand and breasts. It splats across her, but she doesn’t respond, even as a rope of it smacks across her face, lying diagonally across her nose and lips.

She is lost instead in the small climax you drove her to. Her soft walls clench almost painfully around your fingers as though constriction alone was enough to milk blood from a stone. Or cum from your fingers as it were.

You orgasm winds down as Melusine’ does, the big siren busying herself by licking cum off her hand and breasts. There’s a hunger in the gaze she turns to you that tells you you’ve only ignited her furnace. Her mounting need is shown in how she collects the last line of cum on her face and licks it off a finger.

Like a great serpent waking, the coils of tail under her begin to shift and move and you find yourself dropping into a pit, walled in by thick slabs of fish-scaled tail. Melusine lowers herself in after you, blotting out the light with her wide wings.

“Wait.”

She freezes as if struck. “What?”

“I have an idea for a better setting.”

“I don’t care.”

“You will. If you don’t like it, I’ll do ‘that’ with you.”

Her eyes go wide and you can see them dilate “Really? Chains, pillar and all?”

“Yes, really.”

“Ah, but I’ll have to call a storm first a-”

“Hang on, if my hunch is right you’ll like it.”

Wariness is still scrawled across her face, “What is it?”

“A ship that sunk in the latest storms. I think I recognize it.”

Her face sours almost immediately, “I’ll start on the storm then. Should I use meteoromancy or druidic ritual?”

“Meteoromancy, but that isn’t the point. Just…” You sigh and roll your eyes before beginning to wriggle your way out of her nest of scale, “Shut up and follow me.” She releases you with such reluctance that is almost feels like physical fetters, roping you back into her grips. You ignore the sensation and make your way back to the water’s edge.

“Well let’s make it a little fun before we get there. Race you?”

“What’s the handicap?”

“No flight.”

“Hmm, okay. But if I win you have to stay over for a week.”

That gives you pause. What if she loses? What do you want from her that she isn’t already willing to give you? There isn’t really anything. You shrug, “Sure but if I win you have to take me somewhere nice.”

She frowns, “Like where?”

“Dunno, you’re old-”
“Rude.”
“-think of something.”

“Maybe… Hmm. I’ll think about it.”

The waters lap pleasantly at the beach but outside the cave the waves are as choppy as ever. You mentally sift through the long list of incantations you know, deciding on a handful. Melusine grins as she hears you chant them quietly, “So that’s how it’s gonna be. I see why you wanted no flight now.” You grin, but the long incantations continue until you’re done. “I think you’re underestimating me.”

“Maybe, I don’t mind that losing condition. But we’ll see,” You crouch down and give your legs a stretch, feeling the hamstrings creak and groan, “Ready? On the count of three. One”

“Two”

“Three” No sooner does the word leave your lips than do the both of you move in a burst of movement. Melusine launches off her tail like a spring and dives deep into the waters as you set off at a magically-enhanced sprint. Your foot comes down heavily on the calm surface of the waters, but rather than splash and sink in, you find sturdy purchase and sprint off, keeping an eye on the dark shadow below you.

You come up to the row of stalagmites rising out of the cave’s mouth like so many fangs and vault over it, nearly messing up in a moment of distraction as Melusine leaps out of the water and sails over them before diving back under.

You steady yourself as you run, but the going only gets tougher as your footing grows much less stable. The wind and sea spray whips at your hair as you sprint, beads of sweat beginning to flow. Foaming waves course towards you from your right, some rising as tall as hip height, looking to sweep your legs from under you. You leap and tuck your legs up as they come, cursing under your breath as the ‘ground’ drops out from under you.

You fall into a roll and launch yourself up and forward as you come out of it, shooting a glance to your right. A freak behemoth approaches and you rush to escape from the barrel it forms, crouching low and at times keeping yourself moving by scrabbling at the wave with your hands, running on all fours.

A deep green shadow lines up with you, the siren in the wave laughing at your less than fortunate circumstances. But the end of the tunnel is in sight and you breach it triumphantly, nothing but flat waters between you and where the boat ought to be.

You quickly leave the dark shadow behind as you rush to what should be approximately above the boat and leap, shedding yourself of one incantation and cloaking yourself in another, plummeting through the waters as if you were solid, dense stone. The siren isn’t far behind you, approaching quickly though not quite able to keep up with your rapid fall.

Her already dark outline vanishes as you descend to depths that not even the sunlight graces. You utter words that let your eyes take in what dim light there is and cast off the incantation making you denser and heavier than a tonne of stone, just as the deck of the sunken ship grows visible out of the murky depths, rushing towards you with startling speed. Not wanting to shatter your bones, the incredible density vanishes from you as if a lie and you stop sinking almost entirely, kicking the last meter to the deck’s surface.

You touch down and another of your chants activates itself, having you stand upon the deck as though you were standing upon the ground above water. You stumble and squeeze your eyes shut as a pressure pounds in your sinus and your head spins, fogging up and packing in like dense cotton before clearing. The world begins to tip sideways, then you feel a reassuring arm slip behind you and hold you upright.

‘Careful. You okay?’ Her words of concern enter your mind directly, a soft melody floating through your consciousness.

You shake your head clear and nod before responding in kind, ‘Yeah. Just… sank a little faster than I expected.’

She smiles, ‘Shall I carry you across the threshold?’

Her joke is infectious and you feel your own lips curl in a grin as she takes your weight, an arm behind your knees and another upon your upper back. ‘As a good wife is wont, no? Head aft to the cabin.’

She chuckles as she carries you across the sunken deck, the ship markedly level considering its state. At least, the back half is. A huge sunder splits the ship in half, the front half resting diagonally, the figure head propped up upon jagged rocks that rise from the ocean floor like savage fangs.

Small eddies stir as she makes her way through the water, the miniature swirls of sediment; a fine silt that has settled across the deck. You tap her shoulder as she nears the door and she lets you down a little reluctantly.

You grab the handle and twist. The door swings inward, revealing an almost eerie pitch black room. Melusine slithers inside and clicks her fingers, a spark of red flame arcing through the water. It gathers into a fireball the size of a fist before shattering into splinters, each sliver spreading out across the room. A gasp makes its way past your lips as each ignites a candle, washing the room in light.

Your hunch was spot on and the Siren is taken with the room instantly. You take a gaudy tricorn off a hatstand on a chest of drawers to your right and walk over to where Melusine admires herself in an ornate full-length mirror. She strikes a pose for you and you chuckle to yourself before putting the hat on her, angling the tip down to a side. She’d make quite the swashbuckler.

You step away from her and look about the rest of the cabin. The room was large and spacious, with all the clutter off to the sides, tables, chairs, chests, drawers. To the left of the room was a bed, large and with a canopy of crimsons and gilded golds. In fact, much of the room was draped in deep reds and golds.

Anything not red or golden was a warm and lustrous oak, down to even the chairs around the large desk with soaked and disintegrating maps resting upon it. A few bottles and other objects knock about on the ceiling and you jump up, grabbing one before you sink back down. Biting down on the cork and yanking with your teeth, the stopper comes clear with a spurt of red that stains the water.

You jam the bottle with your thumb and hold it up to Melusine, who tastes the spill in the water. “Lautrovik pinot noir, 14013.”

‘You know it?’ You shoot your thoughts over to her, the melodious link she created between the two of you still strong.

“Mm, I’d not forget that taste. Did you know it’s Elven?”

‘Elven? I thought-’

“Lyonessian, yeah. A lie. Harder to sell Elven wine.’

‘Are you sure? How do you know this?’

She snorts “I raided with the proprietor and founder some millenia back.”

‘Huh. What was he like?’

‘She. Called her the Pauper Queen of the Frozen Seas. Never more than a handful of coins to her name because she spent it all on booze. Hoarded it, drank it. Could smell it on the wind before we even saw any sign of ships. Funny thing is, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her drunk.”

‘What happened to her?’

“Set up a vineyard near Lyonesse, surrounded herself in the stuff. They say she made entire greenhouses out of melted down wine bottles. Staffed humans, gave it a Lyonessian name, lived another handful of centuries and passed away, left it all to some human.”

‘No kin?’

She takes the bottle from you and brings it to her lips, ‘None, married to the bottle.’ You watch as she drinks half of it and a light blush comes to her cheeks, ‘I can understand why.’

She hands the bottle back to you and you finish the remaining half, the wine vanishing as fast as it did when the siren was drinking it.

‘So what do you think? Still need that storm?’

“Hmm, preferable but not necessary. This… is nice. Might bring it up to the cave even. How did you know?”

You head over to the large, ornate desk to inspect the disintegrating papers. Maps. Letters. Something that looks like a ledger. ‘I recognized the ship, I had to deliver something to the captain personally.’

“What was it?”

You rifle around the draws of the desk and then through a chest of drawers behind the desk over to the left wall, tucked away in a corner. A grin takes you as you find a small vial filled with a purple liquid. You take it out, its contents sloshing in the delicate vial. The seal looks tightly fitted and you find it to be entirely unopened.

‘This,’ you toss it over to the siren, ‘drink up.’ She raises an eyebrow but follows your order anyway, trusting that you wouldn’t feed her anything too bad. She bites the cap off, stoppering the bottle with her thumb as she spits it out into the water. You watch as she drinks it all, swishing it around in her mouth first before swallowing.

She puts on a pensive look as she tries to sort through the gustatory information. “Raging Mushroom,”

‘One part,’

“Manticore venom,”

‘Two parts,’

“And Alraune nectar.”

‘Two parts.’

A heavy blush begins to come over the siren as the concoction works its havoc and the bottle slips from her fingers to float upwards, little air bubbles rising up with it. “You… won’t be walking for a while.”

The large woman slithers back towards the bed and beckons to you, ‘I count on it.’ Stepping forward, you join her in her nudeness one piece of clothing at a time. Her fingers clutch at the sheets as she wrestles with her impulse to pounce.

You stand before her, naked and impressed. ‘You’re controlling yourself well.’

“There isn’t much that can make me lose my mind but this…” Her tail slips around your hips and she yanks you forcefully towards her, leaving a stream of air-bubbles in your wake. You don’t even have time to brace yourself as you fall bodily into her clutches, “This comes close, so let’s even the score.”

Just as quickly as she pulled you in, she plants her lips on yours and hugs you tightly so that you can’t evade her grasp, a necessary precaution as her song crashes into your mind like a tidal wave, making you jump and go rigid. It was the same magic that lured sailors in off the seas to dash their vessels upon the rocks, the same song that from miles away could spark a lust so strong nothing short of stuffing your ears could save you.

It is this song she utters directly into your mind, point-blank. It rocks through your body, taking considerable mental effort to keep your consciousness pieced together. Wouldn’t be the first time she’d done this and you’d found yourself knocked unconscious, only to wake later being ridden and about five orgasms in.

You squeeze your eyes shut and focus your mind on forcing yourself into the kiss, biting down on her lower lip before pushing your tongue into her mouth. Her long organ rolls out like a serpent seeking prey and it coils about your tongue before plunging in to explore your mouth. You make out with the siren devotedly as her magic stops wreaking havoc on your mind and its effects begin to spread lower. Far lower.

Your erection stiffens to full mast, already half hard from rubbing up against Melusine’s smooth scales and soft skin. An unbearable heat and tightness takes you as you grow harder than you have any right to be. Something deep down tells you you’ll only ever quell the need between her soft and welcoming walls.

The smell of the siren’s estrus clouds your mind and while a tiny, professional part of you makes a note to fiddle with the concoction’s ratio, the rest of you responds to her scent in a visceral and primal manner.

Any remaining professional thoughts fly out the window as the large siren begins to move about, around, and soon under you. You feel scales slide along your back and lift you up until you’re sitting in a circle of coiled tail, another thick slab propping your back up, a makeshift lounge.

She rises high above you and you’re struck with an awing impression of the likes you only really experience in these kinds of intimate moments. She is so much bigger than you. Her wings spread wide, cutting a silhouette impressive enough to inspire. She makes her way up your legs, coming to rest as her hips sit upon your own.

Bending back on herself in a show of flexibility, her torso comes perpendicular to her mer half, straddling you as if she had legs to slip to either side of your pelvis.  Your mast stands rigidly, throbbing against her belly and spilling pre into the water. Her fingers touch upon it gently and she presses it to her stomach while lifting herself up with the muscular strength and control of her tail alone. The head of your cock rubs down the length of her lower abdomen, dick’s crown prodding against her mons pubis then flicking across her clit before coming to a stop, pressing against her entrance. She rolls her hips ever so slightly, rubbing her folds along the swollen head and grinding her clit against the tip, your shaft slickening in the proof of her lust.

You look up at her through a valley of tight, defined abs, mountainous breasts and green-red hair, cascading down like a waterfall, strands of it drifting about in the water. Her eyes dance with domineering thrill and her lips curl in predatory satisfaction.

“With a view like this I’m reminded of just how small, cute and fragile you are.”

‘That a turn on?’

“Very much so.”

‘You wouldn’t prefer it if I was a big guy?’

“For me? No, wiry muscle is more charming. Besides, I’d rather do the throwing around.”

Your lips curl, ‘Different from Lin in that regard.’

The siren rolls her eyes, “I keep telling her she should just steal some cute little fisherman. Those big burly sailors are only known for one thing – catch and release.”

You bring your hands up to her hips and trace along the prominent lines of her pelvic bones with your thumbs, ‘Well aren’t you glad I live only a stone’s throw away and have no plans on heading out to sea for months on end.’

She laughs, “Believe me, even if you did, I’d see to it that your ship never left the gulf.” Her hips take to a gyrating, swivelling motion, “And you wouldn’t return to that alchemy shop of yours.”

A small grin tugs at your own lips at the image, ‘What would you do, tie me to your bed so you can use me all day, every day?’ You tighten your grip on her wide hips and bring her down, the crown of your shaft pressing impatiently against her tight, unyielding opening before penetrating her lips, pussy enveloping you in its hot, soaking embrace. Her breath catches as she impales herself on the length of your spear, clenching walls squeezing you all the way down to the base, where you feel her inner muscles begin to constrict and milk you. She tips her head back and unleashes a low moan, the tricorn hat slipping off her head and slowly sinking down to the floor.

‘Bask lazily in the mornings using my body heat to warm up, go for a round or two and have a full belly before even leaving bed?’ She starts to roll her pelvis back and forth, a grinding motion that has your girth pumping though her sensitive folds and the head of your cock scraping at her wringing walls with each thrust in. Her puffy vulva presses up against the base of your crotch as she gyrates, the siren’s depths squeezing your manhood affectionately, offering a secure and tight home as if being permanently joined at the hip was the new order of things.

She looks down upon you smugly, “You don’t sound like you dislike the idea,”

You suck in a deep breath as she picks up the pace, her tits bouncing and jiggling with her sawing motion, ‘I might have to go sailing.’

“Why not skip the middleman? I can find some chains.”

‘Innocent ‘till proven guilty Mel.’

She grins, flashing her sharp teeth at you, “That’s not the way law works beneath the waves.” Before you can formulate a response in your mind she leans down and scoops you up in her arms, burying your face between her soft pillowy breasts and surrounding you in her sweet scent. Her hips shake up and down, thick tail and wide hips slapping wetly against your pelvis growing wetter yet with each push. Your rigid girth spears her soaked depths and girl-cum squirts out, coating your thighs in a lubricant that doesn’t rub off in the water so readily.

Your sense of enclosure only increases as her wings cocoon around you. With your vision stolen, you find your mind’s focus on that sense splits itself between touch, scent and sound. The siren’s heart pounds powerfully by your ears, thrumming rhythmically to a lewd and sticky backdrop of flesh on flesh, her pleasure accentuated by the odd moan and a soft, alluring melody.

Her body writhes against you and her breasts heave with hip-rolling movements, tight belly rubbing against yours so closely you can feel as her abdominal muscles twitch and move. Wrapping your arms around the siren, you stroke down along her sensitive spine. She clings to you tightly; your efforts rewarded with the sound of a gasped moan somewhere up above. The end of her tail flicks upwards, cutting through the water as she keeps the expressive extremity from slicing up the sheets.

You grunt as her pussy clenches around your girth, vice like, almost painfully so. Her inner muscles stroke you, milking you of your seed and urging you to impregnate the siren. As if she felt the coursing pleasure crest within you, she lets you go and sits up. With her fingers fluttering over her belly, she casts some simple magic, showing a stylized representation of her womb with your cock pressing up against it, filling her walls.

Your balls clench as muscles work to pump the shooting orgasm into her babymaker. You clutch at her hips and thrust upwards as far as you can, feeling and watching as the tip of your cock presses into her cervix. Your length throbs as your load makes its way up your shaft before spurting into her womb in a thick streak.

Ropes of semen crash into the walls of her womanhood, painting it white and you watch as it begins to pool, one fourth the way full as your first orgasm wanes.

She giggles, the picture fading, “Still more to go”

‘Let’s try another position then.’ She nods to your words – or rather, your thoughts – and lets you grab her by her wide hips and flip her before straddling her tail. The resultant cloud of hair clears as it all settles back down, revealing the siren on her back, looking at you with her arms up behind her head and her wings stretched out on the bed, the claws at the wrist clutching the sheets.

She grins, waiting for your move and you waste no time in angling the head of your prick towards her slit and pushing in. The seed you’d already spilt inside her eases your penetration, cock pressing in to the hilt, her incredible tightness gone from vice-like to snug.

As your balls press up against the scale of her tail, you take a moment to position yourself, bracing your hands upon her muscled midriff. She wiggles a bit under you, breathing* heavily and obviously unhappy with the lack of bed-creaking fucking going on.

Unwilling to keep the siren waiting, you pull out half way before letting gravity push you back in. Your hips collide with hers in a fleshy smack that soon becomes a rhythmic constant. Melusine’s worming quickly stops as she lies back on the bed and loses herself to the sensation of your cock filling her, sating the need your concoction so recklessly kindled.

Your mind drifts elsewhere though, away from the motion of your shaking hips. Though her seemingly pulsing pussy and the pleasure it pounds into your mind remains ever-present, your attentions turn to the toned tummy beneath you.

Carefully, as to not disturb the pacing you’d set, you lower yourself over her and plant a kiss upon her belly, just above the button. You hear her gasp, feel her tense as you lick up the middle of her abs, before kissing each of the six little bumps, clenching and bunching while rising with her deep breaths. There was something about the slow and deep breathing of the bigger girl that always soothed you. Far from the frenzied fucking she would force on you, it always inspired you to take it easy while within her writhing depths.

You change your pace accordingly, taking deep and long thrusts, pulling out to the tip of your cock before sinking back in, the head scraping along her walls in a way that would have her toes curl, had she any. Subconsciously – at least you think so, she never seems to do it deliberately – her cunt’s contractions match your pace, the walls hugging your girth so snugly rolling in the opposite motion to your thrusts.

Her breaths grow sharper the longer you keep this up, and before long she’s letting out little moans and whimpers, whispering things under her breath. Most of it is nonsense spoken in a tongue you can’t understand, but you catch the odd word. “Yes” “More” “Deeper”. As the last word is uttered, she tips her head back to voice a particularly loud cry and all of a sudden you have to fight for your way back in, thrusting hard to feel the tip of your cock butt up against her cervix once more.

She shudders beneath you, holding her breath and letting out the odd squeak until her orgasm subsides. You keep thrusting through it all and it isn’t long until she gathers enough wits to look to you with hazy, lust-clouded eyes. “More,” She reaches out to you and you feel the magic of her siren’s song begin to swirl around you and within your mind, “Fill me more”.

You grunt as you bottom out gain and your cock seems to swell; an odd sensation of its own if not for the ring pressing into the tip of your dick. The stylized internal view flickers back into place above her womb and you see your cock cramming her canal with its girth, throbbing and growing both longer and thicker. Your dick is getting bigger, but her depths aren’t growing any deeper.

You bite down on your lower lip, as an uncomfortable pressure builds upon your manhood before the crown of it penetrates her cervix. The release and the sensation alone of the second penetration has you cum a little, a small harbinger of the coming flood, adding a little to the mass already within her womb. You take your eyes from the picturesque representation and turn your mind to the task at hand.

Lowering yourself flush with her body, you hug her tight and roll your hips back, the head of your cock threatening to pop out of her womb. You pull out to the limit before thrusting back in, feeling the cock-shaped bump on her stomach match your movements. She cries out loud this time as you begin to fuck her with rapid and short thrusts, no longer trying to keep it in.

You hug her tighter, face buried between her tits, and feel as she responds, a hand coming to rest on the back of your head and another coming to grope your ass and ensure you aren’t about to pull out any time soon.

Her wings curl about you, cocooning you in and you feel her claws dig in to your skin, coming short of piercing. She begins calling your name as you fuck her deepest depths, pumping hot precum into her womb, already on the verge of climax due to her bewitchment. It starts as a whisper at first, barely audible over the drum-like pounding of her heart next to your ears, but then she gets louder, holds you tighter as she repeats it like a mantra, each repetition growing louder and more desperate yet.

She repeats the word faster and faster and you find the pace at which you fuck her to increase in tandem. Her insides writhe and twist and you sense another climax coming over her, quickly in time for yours. You slam your hips home hard, one final time and cum.

Despite your usual quietness, you can’t help but let a light moan pass your lips, as your loins pack with seed until fit to burst. Then like a breached dam, your muscles work to pump out the load, directly into the womb of the siren below, ready and waiting to be bred.

The thickening of your cock as cum courses through it pushes her over the edge into ecstasy, the first thick rope of seed sending her sprawling into her own climax. Her pussy squeezes and strokes your length, milking each thick spurt, ensuring you cum as much and as hard as you can.

She lets your head go and clutches as the sheets instead, nails piercing the fabric. You sit up to find the magic symbols still there and watch yourself fill her womb to the point of a light swelling. Her walls milk out another spurt of two as you make light shaky thrusts, but your magically assisted orgasm winds down, along with Melusine’s. A deep tiredness settles in place, and you let out a deep breath before sitting back on your haunches, cock still held snugly by the siren’s slit.

She picks her head up in time to witness the stylization of her cum-filled womb swirl into a light pink heart before disappearing. You press down on her belly lightly and feel a spurt of seed escape into the water, ‘What did that mean?’

Exhausted, she puts on a light smile and slumps down, “I wonder.” You pull out and watch another small stream of cum float up into the water before cuddling up next to her on the bed.

‘Thought about what would happen if you ever did get pregnant?’

“A little. Do you have any plans?”

You smile, ‘A little. If you ever did get pregnant, I guess no one could fault me for finally selling what I own and moving in. You seemed to like that potion I brewed, maybe I can make a living selling them to some of my more monstrous customers.’

“Mmm, that doesn’t sound like a bad plan at all. Maybe I should try a little harder to get pregnant then.”

‘Maybe.’

She looks to you with a hunger already alight in her gaze, “Another round then?”

The tiredness that seemed to settle so deeply in your bones lifts in an instant. You let her toss you onto your back and grin, ‘Why not?’