Midnight's Romp

You place another wrapped package of dried jerky among the other supplies in your burlap backpack, cinch the drawstring tight, and sling the small bag by its straps over your shoulders. With your hand on the doorknob, you turn and look over the homely interior of your small cottage for anything you may have forgotten. You pour over your memory for a moment when a thought struck you, you did forget something! Searching through a drawer you find a small leather sack cinched tight by a knotted string, no bigger than could carry a few Zenny. The bag has a distinct herbal smell, and you recall the words of the merchant you had gotten it from. “Felyne Frenzy” he had called it, an obscure herb grown far to the East that was said to pacify a Felyne with just a sniff and have them stumbling around as if they had drunken too much ale. It had cost a pretty coin, but maybe your friend would enjoy it.

Stepping out of the door of your small cottage on the outskirts of Kokoto Village, you shield your eyes against the bright morning sun just beginning to peak above the tops of the trees.

Seeing the beauty of sunrise always raises your spirits and today its spectacle is exceptionally pretty. The expanse of sky above is painted in a wide swath of purple and blue, thin wisps of clouds high above are streaked orange with the sun, and the snow-covered peaks of the mountain range to the west rise above the tree canopy like burning, jagged teeth.

“Another beautiful sunrise for another beautiful day.” You think to yourself.

Closing the small wooden gate of the fence encircling your cottage’s yard, you confidently begin your trek into the deeper forests that surround your village. Anyone who perchance saw you leaving the town would assume that you were heading out to gather nuts or berries for an early breakfast, but your goal was far different than what anyone would expect.

Your goal for today is to visit a good friend.

Thin trails of morning fog swirl around you as weave your way deeper into the forest, the canopy is thick enough that underneath the trees the air is cool and wet with last night’s dew. You have a vague sense of direction for your destination, keeping the mountain range before you and using a small compass for guidance, but you are comforted to know that if you found yourself lost in the forest you are sure your friend would soon enough find you.

After an hour or so of hiking, you are confident that you are far enough from civilization to begin your search. Pulling a piece of Aptonoth jerky from your bag you take a bite of the salted meat, washing the salty treat down with a swig from the water in your canteen. You call your friend’s name between every few bites, and hope that he is close enough to hear you or smell the treats you’ve brought.

After a while, among the soft sounds of the forest, you begin to hear the sounds of something large moving in the forest around you. Stilling yourself, you pause to listen. Somewhere, off beyond the trees and bushes to your right, you can hear the soft rustling of something passing through the foliage. You strain your ears, uncertainty and fear beginning to eat at your composure, you slip your fingers to the hilt of the small blade at your back.

You know that the trees of this forest are dense enough to trouble the movements of many of the larger monsters, but many smaller, dangerous monsters still call the forest home and you are hardly prepared for any type of fight. After a few moments the rustling quiets, the only sound you can hear over the gentle breeze in the tree boughs above is your pounding heartbeat loud in your ears. Seconds pass without incident. Straightening up with a soft sigh, your hand drops from your knife and you take a step forward, digging the remnants of a piece of jerky from your pocket to continue your trek.

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The young Nargacuga passes through the forest like a swift shadow.

The monster’s powerful legs carry him quickly over the forest floor, leaves and branches tug and pull at his fur, his ears are perked and swiveling, attuned to the sounds of the forest. Sharp eyes chart a path through thickets and around brambles, the monster’s surroundings pass in a mosaic of green and brown color, sharp claws dig into damp wood, fallen trees fall away behind him. The smell of the forest is thick in his nose, earthy and damp, his lungs fill with fragrant air, his heartbeat a pounding staccato in his chest, but his passage is as silent as a night’s gentle breeze. Far ahead, barely visible through the thick forest, he can see his quarry: a young human trudges unknowingly through the forest, oblivious to the graceful hunter tracking him from the shadows.

No. Not just graceful—magnificent.

The magnificent, skillful hunter. The corners of the Nargacuga’s expressive beak turn upwards at the thought.
Even if the wyvern’s sharp eyes couldn’t see him, the human’s scent is thick in his nose; the smell like a beacon guiding him through the darkness of the forest’s cover. The monster continues his fast approach, confident of his stalking ability against the human’s weaker hearing. The Nargacuga’s nose twitches as it catches a subtler scent besides the human: a smell of meat, smoke, and spice, and… another smell, an enticing floral aroma that picks at the curious part of his brain and makes his mind feel warm and hazy. Except, the monster’s belly twists and growls softly at the thought of food, pining for his attention, he quickens his pace at the thought of a soon-to-be meal.

Sharp, golden eyes watch the human through the cover of the forest as he begins to stalk, the human is close, close enough that the wyvern can see the piece of salted meat in his hand and the dagger sheathed at his back. The monster can feel his stomach growling, goading him to get closer, the thought of food heavy in his mind.

Eyes locked on his prey, the Nargacuga pushes softly through a bush, the leaves and thin branches brush against his lithe form but make little sound, he places a paw carefully, twigs and dirt tickle at his pads, his movements are smooth and silent. Abruptly, the human pauses suspiciously and the monster freezes, his muscles tense and heart pounding, maybe the human’s hearing is better than he thought? Nonetheless, the young wyvern relishes in the feeling, the excitement of hunting.

After a moment, the human begins to move once more, pulling another piece of dried meat from his coverings, the monster’s eyes zero in on the tasty treat, the scent of wood smoke and flesh meet his nostrils and wet his tongue, and he creeps closer.
Instincts begin to take over as he approaches within striking distance of his prey. Calling upon his albeit few years of experience, but bountiful prowess, the young wyvern smartly approaches from behind. The oblivious human’s vulnerable back is facing him, and the monster crouches to strike.

Eyes wide, muscles ripple and bulge beneath black fur, lips flex and draw into a snarl in anticipation, white fangs stark against his black muzzle, retractable claws inch from their slits in his paws, oxygen-rich breath fills his expansive lungs, his tail whips and lashes behind him like an angry snake.

With a ferocious roar, the Nargacuga explodes from the bushes like a spring uncoiled, a dark, deadly shadow in the sun streaming beneath the forest canopy.

The human has no time to react.

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A snarl sounds from the bushes behind you, and before you realize it, something tackles you from behind, sending you heavily to the dirt where you’re pinned to the ground by a heavy, furry body.

Groaning, you attempt to roll over, pushing at the black-furred wyvern to get his heavy ass off of your back. The young Nargacuga, affectionately named Midnight for his inky fur, lifts himself off of you and moves a little away, never taking the focus of his attention off of the bag at your back.

Getting to your knees, you try to land a playful swat on Midnight’s sensitive nose as he butts against your back and tries to pull at your backpack with his teeth. With a low hiss, Midnight dodges away from your reach before bouncing around playfully in a victory dance. A soft, chittering sound emanates from his throat—what you guess is his laughter—and a smile tugs at the corners of his beak, his golden eyes sparkle with mirth. You scowl at his display; you had long ago accepted that it was impossible to teach a wild monster anything resembling manners.

Midnight sees your look and comes over, all the joy draining from his body. He whines softly and butts his warm body against you, you’re not sure whether this is a genuine display of repentance or another of his acts, you know from experience the young Nargacuga is especially mischievous. Using him for support, you stand back up, finding it hard to be angry after all, act or no. Patting the dust from your clothes, you rub along the soft fur of his neck, if being forcefully thrown to the dirt by a wyvern slightly smaller than an Aptonoth put you in a bad mood, watching the antics of your excitable friend would raise your spirits more than any sunrise.

Snaking your hand into the top of your bag, you grab a piece of Aptonoth jerky, immediately attracting the Nargacuga’s attention. Suddenly you have a not-too-small wyvern begging before you, laying a black wing-paw lightly on your leg. Laughing, you pull the jerky from your bag, Midnight’s golden eyes shine at the sight of the savory treat.

You toss the jerky into the air, almost instantly, the Nargacuga has it in his jaws and begins gnawing happily on the tough meat, occasionally emitting pleased grunts. With a soft gulp, the jerky is gone, and the hungry wyvern is back at your feet.
Chuckling you ready another piece, but before you can throw it, the Nargacuga has your whole hand in his mouth! Releasing the jerky, you carefully pull your hand free from his toothy mouth with a groan, wiping the thick wyvern slobber on your pant leg. Midnight looks pleased with himself as he chews his treat, your words of admonishment go purposefully ignored.

Slinging your pack around your shoulder, and with a pat on the soft fur of your friend’s head, you make your way further into the forest.

After a while, with some additional directional help from your furry friend, you’ve found the destination you’ve been traveling toward: an almost idyllic meadow among the forest. Gentle, rolling hills look pillow-soft with their covering of long, green grasses and painted in a myriad of wildflower colors. The meadow is cut through by a small burbling stream, iridescent dragonflies flitter above the cool, clear waters. Stocky, snow-covered mountains to the west rise above the forest and feed the stream with snowmelt, sending the meadow into an early sunset in their shadow, but at midday, the grass is warm with the sun and fragrant with the floral smell of wildflowers.

Dropping your pack to the ground, you break into a sprint across the wide field toward the stream that lies in the center. Midnight quickly matches your pace; you can hear the louder footfalls of the wyvern over your own pounding footsteps as you cut through the tall grass.

It occurs to you that the Nargacuga could easily catch you, your top sprinting speed probably a leisurely stroll to the monster, but Midnight is bounding along behind you, following you through the field.
You glance over your shoulder, the wyvern’s eyes meet yours and sparkle with joy, the pliable corners of his small beak upturned in a grin.

Grinning back, you turn and put on a burst of speed. Your lungs are beginning to burn, but before you reach the stream you suddenly spin, grabbing a handful of long cattails and assume a battle stance. The Nargacuga skids to a stop and growls playfully, turning to stalk you like some large, black feline.

You feint a strike, your cattails cut through the air like a grassy sword, and your friend jumps backward with a hiss, his tail whips the air in mock irritation. Laughing, you press the attack, driving the wyvern back through the grass, his muzzle is drawn back in a snarl, his white fangs brilliant against the black of his beak and fur. Midnight growls deeply before bounding away and suddenly spinning on his paws, his movements are full of a graceful power. The monster crouches, snarling, muscles ripple and tense along his muscular form, and before you can react the heavy wyvern has already crossed the distance between you and his heavy body is bearing you to the ground. You play-wrestle in the dust and grass with your wyvern friend but he is too strong, and before long he gains the upper hand. Pinning you with heavy paws, he sits firmly on your abdomen.

Laughing, you struggle uselessly against the heavy monster pressing you into the dirt before your face is engulfed in Nargacuga kisses. With a sputter, you push against your friend’s head and neck to end the tongue-filled assault. In a last-ditch effort, you dart a hand beneath one of his wing joints, knowing from experience that just like a human’s armpit, the underside of Midnight’s wing joint is extremely ticklish.

Your fingers find the tiny scales and smooth skin where his wing meets his body and begin to tickle. The effect is immediate, Midnight tenses and sits up ramrod straight and chitters loudly before suddenly and gently latching onto your arm with his mouth. You can barely feel his sharp teeth pressing against your skin, you know he would never knowingly harm you, but you relent anyway.

The heavy Nargacuga moves off of you, and you stand up, dusting yourself off before heading for the stream. You hook your thumbs under your shirt and pull it over your head, through the fabric you can see your friend kneel at the bank for a drink. Tossing your shirt to the grass, you begin undoing your belt and pulling it free, allowing your pants to fall to the ground. Working your pants around your ankles, you glance over and see your friend has finished drinking and is now laying with his head on his paws, nearby. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see him glance over occasionally, feigning disinterest. You wonder just what thoughts are going through his head.

Now in nothing but your underwear, you playfully kick your pants over Midnight’s head and wade into the shallow stream. His offended squawk follows you as you carefully walk to where it is deepest, focused on keeping your footing on the moss-slickened river stones.
The stream runs only up to your shins, but laying down in the current, the crisp snowmelt water feels heavenly against sweaty and dusty skin. After untangling himself from your shirt, Midnight joins you in the stream, frolicking about in the water and chasing the flashes of silver that are small minnows.

A close pounce sends muddy water splashing over you and begins a full-on splash fight. While your hands are good at scooping and throwing water, you can’t hold a candle to Midnight’s thick tail. With a sharp *thwack* against the water, you’re dirtier with wet sand and river-weed than you were with dust and sweat before you got in.
Calling a truce, you submerge yourself to clean off again and move toward your friend. His fur is matted and tangled with algae and grit. Gently pushing the energetic wyvern to his belly in the water, you begin to wash him, rinsing the dirt from his fur with cupped palms of water.

Working deeper, you can feel the taut muscle beneath the skin under the fur along his back, and the transition from fur to smooth scale along the shoulders of his wing arms. You begin to feel a soft, rumbling vibration through your fingertips, happy that your friend enjoys the attention enough to purr.

With most of his back rinsed, you move to his head, the fur here is much softer, and when dry, feels like the softest downy coat. You carefully cup handfuls of water to rinse the sand out of his fur, an errant splash down his face earns you a snort and a glare, his earns pinned back in displeasure. After a soft apology you’re given a lick across your cheek, your friend is never one to stay mad for long.

Untangling the last vine of river grass that you can see in his fur; you feel that you’ve accomplished as much as you can given how shallow the river is. Telling your friend with a pat on the head that if he really wants to get clean, he’ll have to find a lake, you pull yourself up the shallow slope of the river and lay down in the warm grass to dry in the sun.

Closing your eyes, you can hear soft splashes followed by quiet padding as your friend joins you up on the bank, squinting through your eyelids, you can see that he has lain down nearby, limbs splayed out haphazardly in the most ridiculous way. With a quiet chuckle, you let yourself fall into the warm embrace of a nap in the sun.

Some time passes when you open your eyes again, the sun has slipped closer to the horizon and you estimate it to be about midafternoon. You feel a slight sadness that you will have to leave soon, you had planned on enjoying a whole afternoon of playing with Midnight before leaving before dusk and are disappointed that you spent some of your precious time sleeping.

If only your village was more accepting of monsters, then you wouldn’t have to slip out for these secret meetings. A slight smile tugs at your lips as you imagine living with a Nargacuga in the village, maybe he could live in a special addition to your house specifically made for a monster? You imagine he wouldn’t fit for long at the rate he is growing, in the few years since you had found him as an injured pup, he had grown larger than yourself. Soon enough, you imagined he would be fully grown and play wrestling with him would become difficult if not fatal for you.

Sitting up, you don’t see your Nargacuga friend where he was in the grass at the beginning of your nap. Glancing around over the tall grass, you can see a black, hunched shape back near the forest’s edge, where you left your backpack, earlier. Rising to your feet, you find your way back to your discarded clothes and after donning them over your now sun-dried underwear, you begin the trek back across the field to your friend.

As you approach, you first find your backpack, meters away from where you had left it. Frowning, you find the tether tying the opening closed had been crudely cut, and the remnants of the jerky wrappings no longer containing jerky but strewn, empty, around the bag.
Clearly, someone couldn’t wait for you to wake from your nap to get at the jerky.

Swinging the now-empty bag onto your shoulders, you make your way toward your friend, an angry retort rising to your lips. Before you can speak, you mentally correct yourself. Of course, a monster wouldn’t have much care for concepts such as ownership and manners, Midnight often took your meals straight out of your hands when you ate together.

As you venture closer, your anger gives way to curiosity: your friend is hunched over, facing away from you and as you approach, you begin to hear a soft, bestial groaning coming from him.

Icy fear quickens your pace as memories of the time you found a younger Midnight, crying with a ragged gash along his side—a trophy from a hunt gone terribly wrong for him. His hot blood on your hands and pitiful keening are still fresh in your mind now even years later, and you’re thankful that he hasn’t gotten injured that badly since.

Coming upon him, you round his side to find a scene that shocks you: your friend is hunched forward over himself, eyes screwed shut and face scrunched up as if in pain. The bag of Felyne Frenzy lays torn at his feet with some of the spilled herbs sprinkled around it, the rest of the bag’s contents are stuck all throughout his fur as if he has rolled around in them. His ears are pinned at the base of his head, and his tail is splayed at his back like a support. His haunches are spread, toes curled into the dirt, and rising between them is a pink shaft standing proud from a small, furry sheath. Not quite flexible enough to get his mouth around himself, his tongue is licking up the top and sides of his shaft which throbs at the touch.

With him totally unaware of your presence, you’re not quite sure if you should feel embarrassed or horrified that you’ve stumbled upon your friend pleasuring himself. Moments pass in relative silence, any sound you’ve made is completely masked by the soft, wet sounds of his masturbation and you find yourself oddly entranced. You had never actually seen his full self in the years since you had found him as nothing more than a young, skinny whelp. You often saw the small, plump sheath and furry testicles that resided between his legs just like he had often seen you in your underwear, and you occasionally wondered what he actually looked like, and now seeing it made you feel ashamed of your relative inadequacy.

His member is about as long as your forearm and at its thickest point a little thinner than your wrist, it shines a healthy pink and glistens in the sun with his saliva. From what you can see between his lapping tongue, it isn’t smooth like your own; numerous fleshy ridges run along the bottom from the base up to the underside of the tip. His penis throbs along to the rhythm of his heartbeat, and the two furry orbs beneath are pulled taut against his body in their sack.

Seeing him fully now, proudly on display, dispelled that particular curiosity you had harbored, a completely innocent curiosity, you made sure to remind yourself. However, before you knew it, you feel a familiar soft pressure against the front of your pants, and you find yourself not entirely sure how to feel about being aroused by the situation. You had never really felt this particular way about your friend before, but you would be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t imagined this once or twice.

But you couldn’t deny, whether your feelings on the subject swung one way or the other, that the scene before you is very arousing in a taboo sort of way; the sight of a creature as powerful as a Nargacuga, caught in such an intimate and sensual act like some teenager discovered alone in the outhouse filled you with some kind of odd endearment toward your friend. You know that everyone masturbates, and you were sure everyone else is aware of that too, but now you felt that you were possibly the only person aware that monsters did it too, Gog knows he never picked this particular habit up from being around you.

Midnight is giving lavish attention to himself with his tongue and if his soft whines and grunts are any indicator, he is clearly enjoying himself very much. You idly wonder just what he is fantasizing about. Is he thinking of some lithe, female Nargacuga he had met somewhere? Or maybe he is into males? You had heard monsters weren’t very picky in their choice of mates, and after today’s fun, a small part of you wondered if he was maybe thinking about you.

Thinking of being the object of a monster’s sexual fantasy is oddly arousing, but you also feel a slight pang of shame that you probably shouldn’t be privy to such a vulnerable and private moment for your friend.

As your mind races whether you should make yourself known or slip away silently, his eyes open slightly to thin, golden slits. With a sharp yelp, his ears swivel forward and his eyes snap open as he sits up with enough force to nearly tumble over backwards. The sudden reaction sends you stumbling backwards in surprise, tripping over your feet in the tall grass you’re sent onto your ass with a grunt.
Your friend looks absolutely flustered at your presence, his golden eyes are still clouded with shame and betrayal and you get to your feet with a genuine apology, explaining that you never meant to sneak up on him. You’re never sure how much of the human language he can understand, but nonetheless you try to further convey your feelings with a head rub. As he rolls forward to all four feet, you can see that his pink length has mostly disappeared back into his sheath, however you can tell from the tightness in your pants that your body has not done the same. Midnight seems to notice as well as his golden eyes trail down to the front of your pants.

You’re unsure of what you’re about to do, but somewhere in your heart, you know that what your body wants and what your mind wants are starting to become the same thing.

With heart racing, you steel yourself as you prepare to take your friendship a step further, you just hope that your friend will feel the same way as you do. Now close enough to touch, you circle around your friend’s side, careful of his tail curled about himself on the ground and pull his head into an embrace against your chest. Scratching carefully along his temples in front of his ears, the soft scent of his fur reaches your nose, a musky, earthy smell that is never unpleasant.

His golden eyes quickly go half-lidded when you focus your attention behind his ears, the soft vibration of his purring reaches you. Moving a hand lower, tracing a path behind his ear and to the underside of his chin, you begin to scratch at what you know is one of his favorite spots. His purr deepens to a thrum you can feel through your fingertips. Moving your hands along his head and down his neck, you feel the thick, rippling muscles of his shoulders beneath his fur. His purring never stops as you focus along the length of his spine, stopping to scratch at the top of the base of his tail where it meets his body, earning a soft crooning moan.

Focusing back on the muscles of his lower back, you chance a peak down at what’s between his legs. The small pink tip of his arousal has grown, not nearly as large as it was when he was pleasuring himself, but a least a few centimeters are peaking out of his sheath. You glance at Midnight’s face; his eyes are closed tight in content at your massage.

The hand still kneading his back is beginning to tire, steeling yourself you reach under toward his belly, your fingertips brush the fine fur that covers his sheath, slipping over to the firm, slick flesh of his penis. Gripping his exposed length softly in your fingertips, you feel his whole body tense up.

Looking up from your crouching position, you meet his gaze. His eyes are a golden swirling pool of indecipherable emotion, but he hasn’t yet pulled away from your touch. You can feel his heartbeat through the warm flesh encircled by your fingers, and with each pulse you feel more of his member push against your hand as it slips from his sheath.
The sensation is almost intoxicating, holding such an intimate part of such a dangerous creature’s body fills you with a sort of taboo fear.

Releasing your grip, you rise to your feet and circle around to the Nargacuga’s front. Everything so far has your erection painfully tenting the front of your pants and as you circle around, you see Midnight’s eyes again glance down at your excitement.
Running both hands along the edges of his jaw, you once more pull his head against your chest and belly, the warm breath from his nostrils reaching your stomach through the fabric of your shirt. You would do this simple act of comfort sometimes with Midnight, especially when he would come to you with fresh wounds from whatever it was he found to fight when he was younger. You were glad those blood-soaked days seemed to be behind him, you guessed that with age came wisdom in monsters too.
But today is different.

Holding his head close to your chest, you lowered your head to his ear, the soft fur there tickled your nose and lips. Whispering softly, you tell him that you want him, that you’ve wanted him for a while, that you didn’t care that he is a monster, and just in case your point is not clear, you take a soft nibble on the upper tip of his ear. He pulls his head from your light grasp, once again staring into your eyes with his own filled with emotions you can’t quite pin down.
Your heartbeat quickens, you had made your intentions quite clear and his response wasn’t exactly what you had hoped or imagined, a little fear grips you that you’ve taken this friendship that you’d come to hold so dear down a path you couldn’t return from, a path that might lead to its end. You begin to speak, your fear at having damaged your friendship guiding your tongue, filling your mouth with apologies. You begin to tell Midnight that you’re sorry, that what you did was wrong and that you didn’t know what you were thinking.

Of course, a monster wouldn’t be interested in you; your friendship with a Nargacuga is an extreme rarity, most people didn’t make it out alive of an encounter with one. You begin to realize just how foolish you were to press your luck.
However, without taking his eyes off you, Midnight moves forward, a sandpapery tongue laps over your face before you can even react. Sputtering you push him away, he stares at you with warm eyes, all of the emotion from before gone like the morning’s mists.
You stare back, uncertainty still grips your heart, but Midnight moves forward. His eyes are locked on yours, but he lowers his snout until he is just barely butting into your lower belly. You feel his warm breath through the fabric of your pants.
Staring into your eyes, the front of his beak-like mouth gently butts against the fabric of your crotch and with a playful snort he raises his head again until its at the level of your own. This time he moves to lick at your face again, but goes lower, he tilts his head and licks at your neck, the smooth hardness of his beak rubs against your chin as he nuzzles against you, his rough tongue pulls at your skin, his breath both sweet and foul.

Surprised, you stand without moving a muscle, his gentle licks turn into a soft nibbling along the underside of your chin while you hear his purr return. With a silent sigh of relief, you embrace his head again, running a hand beneath his chin for an appreciative scratching.

In a soft voice, you ask him again if he would have you, and in reply he moves away from your touch. He turns and walks away from you; his eyes never leave yours but yours are drawn to something else entirely. His haunches move with a sway you haven’t seen before, his thick tail lifts and you see his plump eggs sway slightly with each step, a little pink bud winks at you from beneath his tail. Whatever indecision that was roiling within him has gone, joy begins to flood your mind at the thought of him returning your feelings.
Laying softly on his side in the grass, he locks you in a gaze of lust. You approach, drawn by the seductive display, and he lifts his hind leg, his pink erection fully peaking from his furry sheath.

Now with the chance to get a good look, you can fully see just how different and exotic his endowment is from your own.
The Nargacuga’s penis stands proudly away from his body near the base but gently arches up toward his belly at the tip, a line of rounded ridges partly encircles its length along the bottom, like the serrations of a knife or arrowhead. His tool is pink in color and ends in a pointed tip which widens to a flare encircling the top a few centimeters back, similar to your own glans but much less rounded. The skin of it looks exceedingly soft as it throbs in the warm air in time to the wyvern’s heartbeat.

Your excitement growing with each moment, you look for permission as you crouch near his belly in the grass and receive a soft growl in answer.

Tentatively, you reach for his exposed length with a hand, it glistens with a wet sheen in the sunlight and you can feel his body heat radiating from it as you grow closer. Now given the opportunity, excitement bubbles within you, with a gentle touch you start at the base of his sheath, the soft fur there tickles the pad of your finger as you draw it upwards. The transition to his actual penis is interesting, his sheath is almost like a human foreskin, you can feel the skin pull and move over the firm shaft of his penis within it. Your experimentation with his sheath hasn’t garnered much of any reaction from your friend, you guess this part of him isn’t exceedingly sensitive. But that’s ok, your throat tightens in excitement of what is to come, you’re only at the beginning!

In a sly move against expectations, you instead move to his balls. The two fleshy orbs hang lightly against his body in their sack, drooping with gravity toward the ground. You cup one softly in your hand, the orb fits perfectly in your palm and is about the size of an apple, exuding a gentle warmth through the soft fur covering it. You give it a gentle squeeze and hearing his yelp are surprised to find it almost pull out of your grip and into his body in reaction. With an apology, you release it, meeting his soft glare with a sheepish look.

Moving toward your prize, you wrap your fingers around the middle of his shaft and his penis jumps at your touch. The firm flesh is hot and slick in your palm, covered in some type of natural lubricant you guess to help ease its release from his body. You can feel his heartbeat pulse through his taut flesh and without further ado, begin to stroke his shaft.

You move your hand towards the tip, fingers and palm gently caressing every contour with a gentle pressure, teasing over the flared ridges that line the underside and pulling on the slightly higher raised flesh of the rim of his head. The Nargacuga groans hotly, you glance at his face to find his eyes lidded tightly and his mouth almost pulled back in a grimace. Sliding your hand back down the shaft, you begin another stroke, his natural lubricant eases your path over his velvety flesh and this time you increase the pressure a little. Each of his little ridges disappears below the edge of your hand with a silent pop, you can feel each little nub of pressure as they travel through your palm and you give a light squeeze as you reach the flare of his cockhead. Midnight’s hips buck forward suddenly, his cock jumping in your hand and he groans loudly, you wonder just how much more of this he can take.

You work your hand up toward the tip, and back again, the little ridges offering much less resistance in this direction. You imagine just how pleasurable those ridges must feel to a female Nargacuga.

Midnight is completely enraptured, his tongue is lolling from his mouth and his breathing is heavy and ragged, abruptly he rolls further onto his side and onto his back, splaying both hind legs out in a comical fashion. You realize he must have gotten tired of holding his leg up for so long as you lay yourself across his belly and continue your ministrations.
Spitting into your palms for a little extra lubrication, you take hold of his penis in both hands, completely encircling it with your fingers. You begin a vigorous stroking. Up toward the tip, you can feel his head pulsing beneath your squeezing grip and a bead of clear fluid gathers at the small slit at the end, you wipe that in your hands as you begin the downward stroke. Each little ridge rubs through the bumps of your fingers as you make your way down to his thicker base, the fur of his sheath tickles your fingers as you bottom out against it.

The young Nargacuga is involuntarily bucking into your grip now; his moaning and panting heavy in your ears and you find yourself rock solid as well, but you know you can’t stop to take care of your own needs now.

Getting an idea you stop, releasing your grip and pulling your hands away from his cock, his curious whine tugs at your heart and he gives you a pleading look. With a word of reassurance, you straddle his belly, your legs just long enough to reach the ground, and lean forward, laying yourself along his stomach. You can feel the gentle heaving of his breath beneath you, the tip of his cock is pointed at you, a droplet of pre dribbles from the end of his pink spear.

Once again you take hold of his length with a hand, but this time, lean forward to cup one of his testicles as well. You begin to stroke vigorously once more, rolling his ball within its loose sack in your left hand, you feel his body tense beneath you as his breath hitches at the sensations, a low whine escapes his lips behind you.
You stroke faster, intent on bringing your valued friend to the heights of carnal pleasure.

Preseed is dribbling from his tip and his cock jumps in your hands as he squirms beneath you, you carefully roll and pull at the testicle in your hand, mindful not to be too rough and cause him pain.

Your mind is lost in the eroticism of it all and you lean forward, releasing his ball from your grip and stabilizing yourself. With a steadying hand wrapped around its base, you lean toward Midnight’s penis. The tip is just inches from your face, you can feel the Nargacuga’s powerful heartbeat through your palm, a bead of pre collects at the slit of his urethra and follows gravity down his shaft.
You gather your wits and prepare yourself, your own arousal buoys your actions, washing away your inhibitions in a wave of lust. With a hand steadying it, you guide the tip of Midnight’s shaft into your mouth, the velvety skin brushes your lips and a mild, salty taste spreads over your tongue. Midnight groans ecstatically, the length of his penis swells in your mouth, you lap at the very tip, coaxing more precum from the meaty rod. Swirling your tongue around the tip, you try your best to fit as much of his length in your mouth as you can, the ridge of his head barely makes it past your lips when you feel the tip at the back of your throat. You can feel his heartbeat through your tongue, the mildly salty taste of his precum and lubricant tingles on your tongue and the meaty smell of his musk fills your nostrils.

You can scarcely believe what you are doing at this moment, from the second you stepped out of your door this morning you never imagined you would share such a magical moment with your lifelong friend.

Warmed through with happiness, nothing fills your mind but the absolute desire to bring your friend an overwhelming amount of pleasure, so you begin to bob your head. The little ridges lining the underside of his cock pass between your lips, his cock has an interesting mouthfeel: smooth and firm; your mind is filled with lust and taboo excitement at having such a thing in your mouth.
With your other hand you begin to stroke at the length you can’t get in your mouth, trying to stimulate as much of him as you can. Midnight croons lustily, squirming beneath you. Looking down the length of his shaft, you can see his balls drawn taut to his body, confident that you won’t go anywhere, you remove the hand not currently stroking and wrap it around one of his black eggs.
The soft fur of his scrotum tickles at your fingers and you begin to roll the ball around in its sack, out of the corner of your eye you can see Midnight’s back toes curl reflexively, his moans increasing with every movement. With every inhalation his thick musk fills your nostrils while his shaft disappears between your lips with a lewd, wet sound; the sheer eroticism of the situation threatens to split your pants with your own erection.

Midnight isn’t doing much better.

His squirming would’ve long knocked you off if you weren’t straddling his middle and connected in the way that you are, and his moaning and groaning fills the meadow with euphoric sound. His penis is throbbing in your mouth, squirts of precum splash against the back of your throat, which you greedily swallow down.

You slow your pace, hoping to delay Midnight’s release for a little longer.

No longer bobbing, you explore his length with your tongue, delighting in the texture of his smooth skin against your muscle, your one hand is no longer stroking but gently teasing each of his little ridges with your fingers and your other hand has released his balls to roam around his body. Just at the edge of your reach and just beyond his balls, your fingertips brush from soft fur to a small indentation of wrinkly skin.

Getting an idea, you release his length from your mouth and lick your finger, ensuring it is slick with your combined fluids before what you are about to do. Then, you guide his member into your mouth, taking as much of it as you dare. His tip brushes against the back of your throat and you fight the beginning of your gag reflex as you stretch with your arm. You can just barely reach his tailhole and gently begin to tease at it with your wet finger. Pressing against it, your finger slides past his protesting muscles into hot, velvety slickness. His cock jumps in your mouth and you feel his body tense as your finger slide deeper into his nethers. A clipped yelp morphs into a drawn-out whine of pleasure as you begin to bob your head again, his soft pucker clenches around you as you slide another knuckle inside.

You begin to suckle and tease at the head of his erection, the flare of his head presses and slides past your lips as your tongue lavishly massages its length. Your mouth is thick with his musky precum, your nose is drunk with the scent. The muscular ring of his anus pulses wantonly against your invading finger and you curl it against the warm wall of his rectum, repeatedly pressing it against his insides like a woman seductively beckoning her man with a finger.

All of it is too much for Midnight, abruptly he tenses beneath you, his hindlegs kick out, toes splayed and curling, his tailhole clenches almost painfully tight around your finger, while his balls retreat to tuck tight against his body. Midnight’s penis throbs and engorges within your mouth, he looses a bestial roar as his hips buck forward, burying his penis in the back of your mouth almost painfully. Before you realize what’s happening, the first spurt of his load explodes against the back of your throat, tangy, salty flavor flooding your tongue as the sheer volume of seed fills your mouth. The force of his initial release is enough for his cum to burst from between your lips, dribbling down your chin in a thick, milky line. You’re forced to swallow some of what’s in your mouth and clear your airway or hazard choking on the wyvern’s load, the forcefulness of his orgasm nearly sent some into your nose!
Coughing, you pull off his dick just as the next spurts of wyvern cum splash across your tongue. His seed is thick and tangy as you pull away, the next few ropes of semen splash across your face and neck as you move out of the way. With yourself clear, the rest of his load lands across his belly, stark white and sticky against the darkness of his fur. All the while you keep stroking with your one hand and massaging his innards with the other, intent on riding out his orgasm alongside your friend.

You can feel his dick flex and swell with each thick pulse of cum forced through its length, the fertile seed jets from the end in stringy ropes to fall along his belly, the meaty smell of semen fills the air. After a while, his emissions slow to a dribble, leaving a panting, white-splotched Nargacuga in the midst of his afterglow. You pull your finger from his rump, the digit slides free effortlessly from the thick lubrication, and release his deflating penis with your other hand, you then slide over his belly to your feet to walk around and kneel at his front.

Midnight’s head lays along the ground, surrounded in a halo of wildflowers where his head isn’t flattening them. His thick tongue lolls from the side of his muzzle and his eyes are glassy and unfocused. Seeing you approach, he regains life enough to lean up and lick at some of the cum sticking to your face and neck. You tell him you had both better return to the stream and clean up and he rumbles lowly in approval, beginning to roll over to his feet.

------------------------

A while later, after you’ve scrubbed yourself and your friend as best you can, you both retire to the stream’s bank. The cold water has killed your erection, but your body still pines for release. Just having Midnight close by and reflecting on your time with him is beginning to stiffen you once more.

Midnight seems to have noticed and before you can react has leaned down to lick at the tip of your member through your underwear, your cock reflexively jumps once at the sensation and stiffens further as your mind registers exactly what is happening.
With a coy smile on his flexible beak, Midnight straightens up to lick once at your cheek, before turning and slowly walking further behind you. Amused, you watch as he once again saunters away, his haunches sway with each step, and once he makes eye contact with you to know that you’re watching, lifts his thick tail for another show of his nethers. Seeing that he has your attention, Midnight grins and spreads his hindlegs wide while dropping his chest toward the ground and lifting his tail up over his back until it is nearly curling over toward his head.

Clearly an invitation if there ever was one.

Your penis strains and throbs against your underwear at such a sight and in a flash you’re on your feet and struggling to release your erection from its wet, cottony prison. With your underwear around your ankles you approach, you see Midnight’s eyes flick lower toward your crotch and feel a moment of self-consciousness redden your cheeks. It wasn’t that you were embarrassed to have Midnight see yourself in all of your pale glory, but rather that your average-sized-for-a-human tool paled in comparison to the weapon the Nargacuga had in his sheath.

You just guessed that you’d have to make up for it elsewhere, like in having hands that could grasp and stroke things.
Now upon him, Midnight stares up at you from his hunched over position, his pale tailhole winks at you in a sea of black fur and your erection throbs at the sight. You ask Midnight if he’s ready, not sure if he’d ever had anything stuck back there in the past before you surprised him with your finger in his rump. In response he bends over further, haunches rolling further forward and tail lifting higher to the sky, his hole winks open slightly, and you can see just a little bit of his pink insides. Steeling yourself, you take hold of your cock and spit into your other hand, wiping it along the wrinkly flesh of his opening for lubrication.

You find with his legs splayed just so, his rump is practically at the perfect height for you and with a guiding hand, you nuzzle the head of your member against the soft ring of his tailhole. As gently as you can, you roll your hips forward, your cockhead presses against the Nargacuga’s backdoor and just as you begin to wonder that you aren’t lubricated enough, his puckered flesh yields and stretches wide around your shaft and you slip into the warm, slick embrace inside.

His innards wrap tightly around your penis and you can feel the tighter ring of his anus as it travels down your length, Midnight gives out a low, hot groan as you bury yourself in his backside, and you feel a rippling pressure around your length as his inner flesh bears down upon the invading object.

The hot, wet bliss of his insides wrapping tightly around you sends you into a spasm of pleasure, your body is already strung taut from the earlier excitement, and before you can bottom yourself out within his bottom, you pause to let yourself adjust.
However, Midnight has other plans.

The Nargacuga suddenly leans back, needily pressing himself into your length. Fur tickles your belly as his warm rear swallows your shaft, enveloping you to your crotch as he forcefully presses backwards and hilts himself against you with a low moan and a soft squelching sound. With a gasp at the overstimulation and off balance, you grab hold of the fur along his back just to keep yourself from falling backwards.

The sensations in your cock have you reeling, such slick flesh sliding so abruptly down your length has you on the precipice of release, even now not moving at all, his insides are close to teasing your seed from you. You can feel his heartbeat throbbing through your cock wherever the slick flesh presses against it, his innards move and press around your length in accord with his breathing and his natural internal movements, occasionally you’re clamped from all sides as his muscles tense and the ring of his anus presses tightly at your base.

Your whole body is tense as you fight an orgasm, you focus all of yourself on the soft, tickling sensation of the fur you have bunched in your hands and hope that your body rides back down the slope of pleasure before you’re tipped over the edge into release.
Midnight whines inquisitively and you relax your grip on the fur of his back, your body is backing away from the edge and you trust yourself to continue. Ever so carefully, you begin to pull out, inch by wet inch, your dick appears from its musky prison. Midnight’s tailhole needily flexes against the receding shaft. Surprised, you can see that your cock is clean from being in such a dirty place, only his thick natural lubricant coats you and you are thankful that Midnight keeps himself so clean.
With only your head still buried inside of his ass, you slyly ask Midnight if he wants more, the Nargacuga softly growls in response as his anus clenches tightly around your shaft.

Leveraging a good grip on the wyvern’s hips, you lower his thick tail to fall over your shoulder, afraid that Midnight is tiring of holding it up. With your cockhead still buried in his warm embrace, you unceremoniously thrust forward. Your penis disappears within the Nargacuga’s ass, his smooth, velvety walls glide over your every inch and clench tightly around you. The wyvern lets out a bestial howl, his claws flex and cut shallow furrows into the dirt as his rump squeezes and spasms around you. You begin to pound into him, fighting against your oversensitivity with grit teeth and Zen in your mind.

Midnight presses back against you, your bodies make a soft, wet sound as they move against each other and the wyvern grimaces and whimpers as you rock into him. Midnight’s ass feels absolutely wonderful, and you lose yourself in his silky embrace. With each thrust you feel Midnight flex his internal muscles, the texture and pressures of his insides press against every inch of your length, his natural ribbing teases at your cockhead as you thrust in and out and his bowels seem to get slicker and wetter with every moment.
Through grit eyes you glance over his back, Midnight’s eyes are halfway lidded and unfocused, his mouth hangs open as he pants, tongue lolling to the side of his mouth and dripping thick saliva. His eyes catch yours and, in a moment, convey such a multitude of affection and desire that your heart swoons with a rush of warm love. Here and now, there is no one that you would want to be sharing this experience with more than a young Nargacuga aptly named Midnight, your heart is as sure of this fact as you know the sun will rise each morning.

And in this moment, you realize a better way to share this pleasure. Pulling your cock free with a wet pop, you answer Midnight’s querying whine with a firm hand on his haunch. You guide his butt to the ground first and then motioning with your hands, have him roll to his side. Lifting his hind leg, you can see that he is now fully spilling from his sheath, the tip of his cock is copiously leaking precum and his member throbs lightly in the air.

Now with full access to all Midnight has to offer you ease yourself to the ground at his rump. Grabbing onto the upper thigh of his lifted leg for support, you press yourself against him, missionary style, and line yourself up with his opening. Slipping back into the warm hug of his body you watch as his penis jumps as you slip back inside. Trying to regain the momentum from before, you begin to pump in and out of the wyvern’s ass, ecstatic that you can see his expressions from your new position. Staring up at him, his golden eyes stare down into yours as they slowly are hidden behind heavy lids as his face slips back into a pleasure-addled expression.

But seeing your partners reactions wasn’t only what you had in mind. Now with full access to his genitals, you once again slip your hand around his throbbing erection. His hot flesh jumps at your touch while your fingers envelop his fleshy length, inside you feel his rectum pulse and draw tight around you in an involuntary convulsion as the Nargacuga shudders at your touch. Thrusting into his stretched rump, your other hand begins to stroke the stiff rod of flesh it holds tightly, with each movement the slick hole you’re buried in spasms around you and with each thrust you begin to notice a particularly hard lump in his nethers slide across the top length of your penis.

Tilting your pelvis upwards, you grind your cock against the mysterious part of his anatomy and are rewarded with a sharp cry from his lips and a jet of precum from his tip. You realize it must be the wyvern’s prostate as with each jet of precum, the lump seems to swell and press firmly into your length. Gathering up all the precum that you can from his belly and crotch, you lavishly slather your palm all over Midnight’s twitching cock, using his emissions as lubrication, all of his little anatomical features slide effortlessly through your fingers.

You play with the rim of his cockhead, delighting in the tight squeezes of his rump in response and his lusty groans. Your pounding begins to pick up the pace, your crotch is now covered in your combined juices and the thick, musky smell of his fluids fills your nostrils. You begin to lose yourself in your lust, the velvety kiss of his rectum and the erotic fondling of his cock sends your mind into overdrive.

You feel yourself getting close and urge your partner to reach the edge as well, his cock begins to swell in your hand and you increase your stroking, seeing the spurts of precum spill from his tip and cover your hand in a warm stickiness. Midnight has fallen into vocalizing each of your thrusts with a low grunt, the toes on his feet splay and curl, his long, thick tail whips over the ground between your legs. You feel his prostate growing, its firm pressure adding to the delightful sensations inside his tailhole. You begin to feel your own release approaching as well, trying to stem the tide of orgasm until you can bring your friend to the edge simultaneously. Each thrust draws you closer, the wet heat of his ass envelops your cock, the ridging inside, slick with his fluids, pulls and slides against your sensitive head, the fur of his rump tickles at your crotch when your bodies are at their closest, every sensation is teetering you over the edge.

Feeling that you can take no more, you draw yourself from his rump nearly completely, the inside of his ring of anal muscles pulls at the rim of your glans as he clenches around the rod trying to escape from his hold, and with all the strength remaining in your failing, sweaty body you hilt yourself deeply. Your whole being is focused on the hot, slick flesh rippling over your cock as you bury it deeply within the velvety bowels of the Nargacuga laying before you. You feel a warm pressure at your backside, the base of his thick tail curls upwards and presses against your back and rump, forcing you both further into his wet embrace. His abused tunnel guides your length deeper into his warm body, and when you can go no further into his luscious depths, clench and spasm around your dick, holding you close in a wet, enveloping hug. His hot tunnel pulses and clenches around you, his heartbeat is strong through the soft, wet flesh connecting you both from the inside and outside as his cock pulses and grows in your hold. A rolling growl tears from the Nargacuga’s lips as hot wyvern seed erupts from the tip of his convulsing cock, his pulsating rectum quivers around you, the firm lump of his prostate squeezes against your shaft with every convulsion of the muscles propelling his milky seed from his cock into the cool afternoon air.

All the sensation sends you fully over the edge as well, your body doubles over as your cock throbs and sends a spurt of your own seed to coat deep within the wyvern’s inner walls, claiming this ferocious monster as your own. Pulse after pulse clenches your abdominal muscles and wracks your body as cum harder than you ever have in your entire life. Your hand strokes wantonly on his shaft, teasing every stringy rope of seed from his spear to land along his recently-cleaned belly as he thrusts into your grip. His innards pull and tug at your cock, milking your cum into his warm belly.

You hold onto his leg for dear life as a galaxy of stars explodes behind your eyes as your body rides out its release. After what seems like a lifetime you begin to regain your surroundings, Midnight’s release is waning as well, his thick cock spasms repeatedly as the last of his seed dribbles over your hand, his heavy panting is loud in your ears. You feel yourself beginning to soften and pull yourself from his rump, relishing in the wet heat of his rear as it pulls against your length as you retreat. A dribble of your cum and his fluids escape from his hole as you slip out of him.

Crawling around to his front you lay down in the grass alongside your mate, sweaty and out of breath you drape an arm over his neck. Midnight pulls you into a furry embrace, curling his body around you and pulling you tight against his chest, his mouth finds your face where he places a delicate lick upon your cheek, his heavy breaths wash over you. You close your eyes; his warmth and the rhythm of his strong heartbeat sends you from one dream into another.