Hog and Birdy Pt.3: The Bird and The Snake

Hog and Birdy Pt.3: The Bird and The Snake
Tags: MFF, Milf, Naga, Fantasy, blowjob, dubcon

Sylva felt like a new woman. She wasn’t silly enough to think that having sex meant that she had completely changed as a human being. Still, she felt refreshed.

She swayed between tables, dropping off a mug of beer for Dustin the bandit, Reggie the blacksmith, and Tarn the prospector. All names she didn’t know until the last few days working alongside her mother. Well, except Tarn, who would strike a major gold vein that opens up the region to major company business in about a year or two.

The inn and bar were bustling. She knew her mother was upstairs cleaning out vacated beds, and cleaning any messes left by their guests. They worked together to mop up the mess left by their Kobold visitors.

Just thinking about them gave her a fluttering sensation in her stomach. Just the memory of Grolf, that runty Kobold, sleeping on her belly as she came down from that blissful sensation, was enough to cloud her mind.

She needed to keep her mission in the front of her thoughts. Any day now her father would come through those doors. Before she made the pacts and deals that got her sent back in time, she thought the journey would be easy. Watch her mother, and wait for the first man she takes into a back room.

Instead she met her mother, the Hog, an unnatural whirlwind of… passion.

Sylva felt something odd under her foot, and heard a high pitched screech that told her that her graceful phase had come to an abrupt end.

She looked, and at the table to her side was a sulking man with loose dark hair that covered his face. The sound, almost like a scream and a cough, was coming from his hair-masked face.

Sylva lifted her foot, and looked down to see nothing there. When she looked to his face again, she noticed that his chest was mostly bare. He wore a sort of half-shirt, more like a bib of leather with patterns. It hung around his neck, draped around his shoulders and coming down far enough to hide his nipples at least.

His head shifted, and even between the locks of hair, Sylva saw something that made her stomach tighten in fear. Glowing eyes, yellow vertical slits almost like a cats, or like a snakes.

He sat up and moved his hair out of the way, and Sylva took a step back from the table. It was all coming together now. The dark brown and black skin, the strange marks down his arms, the glowing eyes. He was a Naga.

“I’m so sorry,” Sylva stammered as she put the tray of beers down on the end of the table, “Did I startle you? My mistake sir.”

His teeth were revealed as he looked away from her, as if resisting that animal instinct. She had only been in this time for half a week, she didn’t want to be eaten alive. All the stories she heard of Naga were nightmares of fury. Warriors ambushed on their way to the battlefield, or runaways found as a pile of spat up bones. Naga were rare, terrifying, and powerful.

There was a glint of light, and Sylva felt faint. Then she saw what was reflecting light.

“N-no problem,” The Naga whispered, “It just stings, it was my mistake.”

Sylva lifted an eyebrow. She looked down again and saw the tip of his brown/black checkered tail roll just short of her foot.

He was wearing glasses. Round lenses that reminded her of her own, though the design was off. He looked up at her, his face still turned down like he didn’t want to look her straight in the eyes. His face looked just human, besides a curve in his jaw that she had to admit wasn’t unpleasant. It actually felt familiar.

“Did you want a drink?” Sylva said as she retrieved her tray.

“Well,” His voice was barely over a whisper, and there was a slight lisp to it, it made her want to smile, “is there something… lighter?”

“Light?” Sylva said thinking, “I’ll see what we have.”

She smiled, and returned to her round. A snake-man with a lisp, and that shy way of stayed sunk in the booth he was dominating. Not exactly the terrifying Naga she was expecting. It almost made her glad she gifted her favorite panties to Grolf, because she almost needed a change after that scare.

“Mr. Tuttle,” Sylva said as she set down the tray and the owner began to refill it, “Do we have anything light for the man in the corner?”

Tuttle looked over, and didn’t seem shocked to see a Naga seated in his bar. He huffed as he bent down under the bar, and returned with an orangish glass bottle. He popped the cap, and poured it into a mug. Sylva turned the tray and took a sniff. It smelled fruity, the scent alone being a little tasty.

“Thank you,” she said as she returned to the floor.

As she set the orange mug down on the table, the Naga had his nose upturned. It revealed his teeth again, and briefly the fork of his tongue.

“Everything o-”

He sneezed, and Sylva felt a bristle go up her spine.

“The King Protects,” Sylva said mindlessly.

“Oh,” He said as he sniffled, “Sorry, it is the season. Thank you.”

He grabbed the mug, and then looked up at her for the first time. She could tell he wanted to say something, but what she didn’t know. His mouth opened, but then he closed it and she saw his body shiver.

“Well,” She said, “If you need anything, just say the word.”

She walked to the next table, and heard a man from the next table over talk to him.

“Boy, don’t let the new girl distract. If you want the Hog, be direct.”

He was looking for her mother? What did he want with Betsy? She felt a strange pang in her chest, but quickly suppressed it. Of course he wanted The Hog.

When she made it back to the counter, Betsy, her mother, was speaking to Tuttle.

“I think room eight left, not a thing moved in there,” Betsy said, “But I gave it a once over anyway.”

Tuttle nodded, and went back to cleaning glasses.

“Little Bird!” Betsy said with a smile, “Just a little lady I wanted to see. You still have a little glow in you too.”

Sylva blushed, but something about the encounter with the Naga made her shake off the pleasant conversation. As much as she enjoyed being around her mother, she had to pass on the message about her side business.

“Betsy,” She said, “I think that man in the corner wants to talk to you.”

Betsy leaned over dramatically, looking across the room. Several eyes turned her way, and some men blew kisses or made lewder motions with a free hand. She smiled at them, a waved to her crowd.

“If they want to talk, they can come to me,” was all she said, “In the meantime, I better help before the big rush comes in. I don’t want you getting swarmed now.”

Sylva opened her mouth to insist on Betsy meeting the Naga, but her mind flashed back to his face. The glasses over those sharp eyes, that defined and familiar face, even his sneeze. Something about it all seemed worth remembering.

Glasses, that ineffectual sneeze, defined eyelids, even the shape of his face. She knew where she saw that, in the mirror that morning!

Was she part Naga? It would explain a thing or two. She was occasionally called cold, and she did enjoy the taste of hunted game. She enjoyed curling up to sleep, and was always lazy in the winter months. She might have met her father.

“Betsy!” Sylva said as she ran over to her mother’s side. She was handing out drinks, and Sylva sidled up beside her.

“He is a Naga, this guy.”

“A Naga?” Betsy asked.

“Snakeman,” Sylva said, “You know, they ambush people in the mountains.”

“With the Empire Builder road?” Betsy said with a roll of her eyes, “You shouldn’t listen to stories little lady.”

Betsy pulled ahead of her, and Sylva squeezed her fists. She forgot, the King’s guard patrolled the road back in this time. Naga wouldn’t be able to ambush anyone unless they were stupid enough to fall off the trail.

Sylva looked back to the corner, and the Naga seemed to be sulking. His shoulders were low, and looked into his orange drink. She walked back over, and smiled as he perked up to meet her.

“Oh,” He said, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Sylva replied, trying to put on her best service face, “I haven’t seen you around here. What’s your name?”

He looked toward the bar, then down, “Hemi.”

“Well hi, Hemi,” she chirped as she went around the table to stand closer to his side.

She didn’t realize exactly how much of the booth he was filling. His body curved a little below his waist, filling the seat, then going toward the floor and curling once there. He was long, and despite his diminutive posture, his abs and arms were well defined. If her lower half was a muscular system of flowing locomotion she might have amazing abs too.

“You plan to be around here often?” She asked.

He seemed nervous, and still wouldn’t look straight at her. Did he think she was going to judge him? He looked at her for a moment, then she saw him shiver again and look away.

“I can help, you know,” She said quieter, “I know The Hog.”

His eyes popped open, and his nostrils flared. He looked at her for the longest time since they met. Now she was sure of the resemblance.

“You do?”

“Sure,” She said, “I work with her now, I can tell you anything you want to know.”

He shook his head, “I don’t know anymore. I think I’m just going to drink this and go.”

Her heart thumped. Had she scared her own father out of laying with her mother? Would that make her stop existing? She couldn’t let that happen.

“No!” She shouted loud enough that the closest few tables went silent and looked at her. Hemi stared at her as well, his mouth slightly open.

“I mean,” She tried to recover, “I wouldn’t want you to leave unsatisfied. Give me a minute, okay?”

Hemi opened his mouth to talk, but Sylva turned and jogged over to Betsy’s location.

Her mother had to flip her skirt back down after some patrons took a little too long examining her sizeable rump.

“Betsy,” She said as she popped up beside her.

“Birdy? What’s wrong?” A look of genuine concern passed over her mother’s face, and it made Sylva pause.

After her mission was over, she would have to leave. What if she was right, and that was her father? Would she want to be done working beside her mother here? There were downsides, but that face, that told her everything was going to be okay, would be hard to let go.

“It is about the Naga,” Sylva said, “Hemi.”

“Oh,” Betsy said with a half smile, “You know his name now?”

Sylva stammered, “Well, yeah, I mean he is a new customer after all.”

“Right, but you didn’t know it last time we talked about him.”

That face Betsy was giving her was enough to make Sylva huff in frustration.

“I just wanted to know,” Sylva said, “Aren’t you the least bit interested in snake-men? You know, at least for a try?”

Betsy’s brow furrowed, and then a lamp went on.

“You’ve heard that too then?” Betsy whispered with a grin.

Sylva looked left and then right, “Heard what?”

What would there be to hear about snake-men? The way her mother’s mind worked, she couldn’t imagine what sordid factoid she had picked up without even knowing they were called Naga.

“Cute,” Betsy said while looking to the counter, “Bring him to the store room, I’ll take care of the rest.”

Then she adjusted her top, and bounded to a side door.

Sylva was left puzzled. That said, it seemed she had managed to connect the two of them. She would see it through if she had to. If someone had told her she would watch her parents conceive her, she wouldn’t have believed them. Now she was determined to.

She went back to the table with Hemi, and saw he was half through his fruit beer.

“Good news,” She said, “I’ve got it all set up.”

He shivered and slid up taller in his booth, “You do? By all that shakes, no. I can’t do this. I’ve gotta go.”

He started to slide out of the booth, his body brushing loudly against the upholstery. Sylva jumped in his way.

“Hemi, you have to do this,” she said, “You came all this way didn’t you? Do you want to go home without saying you rode The Hog?”

She felt dirty just saying that. Soliciting her mother wasn’t high on her agenda. Still, Hemi seemed to rethink his escape.

“I’ll make sure it goes well,” She said, trying to channel that kindness she saw in her mother. She smiled, and he smiled back. Though the sharp teeth made it less adorable than she expected.

“You’re coming too?” He asked.

“Of course,” She added.

He thought, and then nodded.

Sylva lead them both back to the store room. It was filled with crates and barrels. They lined the walls, and made small mazes here and there. The space was half the size of the main bar area, and smelled of many exotic scents. It practically assaulted the nose.

She walked ahead, acutely aware of Hemi’s long body twisting and curling behind her.

At the end of the room she saw her mother’s finger beckoning.

“Right up there,” Sylva pointed, “She’ll be right behind those crates.”

Hemi looked at Sylva, then back at the crates, and his shoulders drooped slightly. Then he slithered on.

As he got around the corner, Sylva heard a small struggle, and another gasp/hiss from Hemi.

“Bird, hurry!” Betsy grunted.

Sylva panicked, and ran over to her mother’s side. They were wrestling, and despite his musculature it seemed that Betsy had the better of him.

“Stop!” Hemi shouted before his upper body was pinned. His tail was thrashing, but the motions were muted. Was he holding himself back?

“Hold him up here,” Betsy said, motioning to his shoulders.

Sylva helped pin him to the floor, and Betsy moved to just below his hips. She sat heavy on him, not far from a small loincloth tied at his waist.

“Just sit on him,” Betsy said with a smile, “he’ll stop struggling soon enough.”

“Please,” Hemi whimpered, “Let me go, I change my mind.”

“You’ll enjoy this cutie,” Betsy said with a grin, “I’m not even going to charge you.”

There was a look on her face, like a starving woman before a piping hot stove. Sylva did as she was told, sitting on Hemi’s stomach. She grabbed his arms when he reached for her, holding them at the wrist. They were sitting together now, on opposite sides of the loincloth. She could feel the strange texture of his skin beneath her thighs. It wasn’t cold, but it felt off. When he shifted, it rubbed against her, smooth and enticing.

“Now if the stories are true,” Betsy said, “We’re in for a surprise. Watch close.”

She took the loincloth and flipped it up. The scales on his underbelly were small, it was almost smooth. Except where his loincloth was, where several larger scales met. Just looking at those scales made Sylva focus.

Betsy took her fingers, and ran them around the scales closer to Sylva. Her long nails circled there, slow, teasing.

“Please don’t,” Hemi said, “No…”

She felt him shiver, that same shiver she saw before as they spoke. Betsy ran her fingers over the scales directly, and Hemi quivered.

“No,no,no,” she heard him whisper.

The scales shifted aside, and a small pink area was exposed. Peeking there was a pinkish-red knob. Immediately she realized what she was watching.

Betsy snorted, “Victory, and now the spoils.”

She touched the little knob, a tap with the full of her finger, and Hemi’s manhood grew in length before their eyes. It slid out over his stomach at first, as if it was trying to reach for Sylva’s skirt, then became erect enough that it stood tall for them.

“My goodness,” Betsy said, “You can really pick’em. He likes you.”

Sylva scoffed, “Oh no, this is all you.”

“I can see the look on his face,” Betsy smiled, “He may have come for me, but he stayed for you.”

Sylva blushed.

“We aren’t done yet,” Betsy said.

Sylva remembered the second set of scales. Betsy’s fingers circled there too, and this time the shivering seemed to travel his whole body. His tail went flat, only the tip shifting at all.

The second plates fell open, and there was another knob.

Sylva’s mouth fell open. Before her eyes, Hemi’s second penis joined the first. If she wasn’t blind, the second was actually larger, if only slightly.

“Do you mind?” Betsy said.

The Hog was ready to eat.

Sylva’s face was red. She shook her head, “No, go ahead.”

Hemi’s hands had fallen limp. When she let him go, he covered his face in shame.

Betsy stood and slipped out of her panties. She kicked them aside, then came close enough that she was right above.

“I left you the smaller course,” Betsy giggled as she squatted down. Her skirt came up with the motion, and Sylva looked down into her mother’s exposed womanhood. The sight was brief, before her mother reached beneath her to take hold of Hemi’s larger member.

Betsy slipped down over it, and Sylva sat in shock as the red rod vanished under Betsy’s skirt.

The look on Betsy’s face was exquisite. Her eyes were half closed, and her head tilted back as she shifted her hips for comfort.

The higher penis was so close to her that it slid up against her, flipping the front of her skirt.

“Not a lot of space,” Betsy said with a frown.

Did Betsy expect her to sit down as well? She flushed with the thought.

“Oh well,” Betsy said, “The better to learn. Take off your uniform.”

“What?”

“Take it off,” Betsy said, “Hurry before I rip it off you.”

Betsy reached out, and Sylva leaned back in shock. Her heart started beating, she didn’t know what she had gotten herself into.

“Okay,” she shouted, “Okay, I’ll do it.”

Sylva stood and unzipped the back of her uniform. She felt silly, but she slipped it down over her body, revealing just her plain panties.

“Lose those too,” Betsy said. As she said it, she moved her hips in a small circle, which made her eyes close, and elicited a groan out of Hemi.

Sylva pulled at the waist of her panties, and set them on top of a crate.

“Like you said,” Sylva said standing there, ”Not enough room. Shame.”

“I’m not going to hog it all,” Betsy said with a giggle, “That’s just a nickname after all. Sit down, enjoy the touch of his skin.”

Sylva returned to her seat, gingerly. The contact between her raw sex, and his lukewarm belly, sent an odd shock through her stomach. Her mind flashed back to the night before, to Kobold’s in her hands, to jet after jet deeper inside her.

“Exciting isn’t it?” Betsy whispered.

Sylva nodded. Then Betsy reached out and grabbed under Sylva’s knees. Before the smaller girl could even yelp in response, Betsy pulled her closer until their bodies were in contact. She was face to face with her mother, Betsy’s arms wrapped around her back, Betsy’s heaving chest squeezed against her.

Sylva gasped, both in shock that it happened, and at the heat of it. Hemi’s penis was squeezed between them. She could feel it rubbed between her lips, against her mound, the head tapping her lower belly.

She could barely breath. It felt like any deep breath would cause something lewd to occur. She didn’t know where to flee to, but her whole body was telling her to go.

“Ready for the fun part?” Betsy whispered.

Sylva swallowed. Her knees were over Betsy’s thighs, effectively they were locked together.

Then Betsy moved her hips again. A wide circle that made Betsy smile wide as it completed. Sylva took in that deep breath as she felt the heat of Hemi’s length squeeze tighter to her, slide against her stomach.

She circled again, and the warm organ sliding against her made Sylva’s thighs tense.

“This feels so good,” Betsy whispered, “By the King, he is big.”

Sylva could hear Hemi huffing behind her, and it made her skin prickle in excitement. She could feel her nipples sliding against Betsy’s uniform, and she looked down to see the pink protrusions appear and vanish with each motion.

“Oh my,” Betsy said as she saw where Sylva was looking. She let go of Sylva long enough to pull down her top to her stomach. Her bountiful breasts squeezed against her again.

This time when Betsy circled, Sylva could feel their nipples rubbing against each other. The sensation was unreal, like a loop of lustful energy.

Sylva was surprised to hear herself moan, and blushed with Betsy gave her a knowing look.

“Don’t hide it,” Betsy said, “That’s my motto. If we were meant to be having a bad time, it would be against the laws. So open your mouth and…”

A shivering moan escaped Betsy’s lips to finish her explanation.

This was her mother. She shouldn’t be touching her mother so close, she shouldn’t be opposite an erection from her mother, her nipples should not be squeezed taut against her mother’s. Her mother the hero, her mother The Hog.

“Sorry for being so greedy,” Betsy said.

Sylva blushed and whispered, “Don’t be.”

Then Betsy pulled her upper body closer and kissed Sylva deep. Sylva’s eyes popped open as her mother’s tongue invaded her mouth. Her tongue was left defenseless, and soon the two wrestled for control until Sylva was soundly defeated.

Sylva felt her own hips squeeze forward to meet Betsy’s, and circle back to match her rhythm.

“You’re something special, Birdy,” Betsy whispered, “Thanks for being here to help.”

Now she was the shy one, unable to look her mother in the face, “My pleasure.” she said.

Betsy’s grip tightened, pulling Sylva’s nude body closer as a moan pushed through her.

Sylva’s body reacted in response, her sacred place screaming for any contact it could get with Hemi’s strange extra penis. She squeezed close, and enjoyed the waves of pleasure from Betsy.

Sylva felt Hemi tremble, and then Betsy’s eyes popped open.

“Oh!” Betsy said in surprise, then her lips curled as she dug herself down against him, “He is a gusher.”

Sylva’s mind flashed back to the Kobold. It was her first and only experience before this. Was he a gusher like that? Was it possible for more than Grolf offered her?

Betsy shifted back and forth like a mother bird about to lay eggs, then slid back up. Hemi’s second penis had grown softer, and was in a puddle of its own creation.

“Now this one should be all yours,” Betsy said through exhausted breaths.

Sylva took a calming breath. She realized that her mission was accomplished. If Hemi was her father, then Betsy was filled to the top with his seed. She would definitely be born now.

“I’m okay,” Sylva said, “I enjoyed myself enough.”

Betsy gave her a strange look. “Enough isn’t a word I know.”

Sylva laughed, it was a gutty laugh. Then she let out a sharp snort. She closed her mouth and covered her nose, looking across at the woman that soon now would be her mother.

Betsy grinned, then let out a long laugh of her own.

It felt good, to just laugh with her. So many years without knowing her at all, and now she got to laugh and snort all night if she wanted. Who cares if she was also nude in a store room, on top of a dangerous Naga.

There was a deep hiss that made Sylva’s hairs stand on end, then they were both thrown to the floor as Hemi’s body thrashed.

Betsy and Sylva looked as Hemi reared to his full height, his eyes flashing that dangerous yellow. His mouth was opened wide, teeth long and ready to strike.

“Uh oh,” Betsy said, “I think he’s gone natural.”

Sylva was shocked Betsy could articulate it, but she agreed. The feral look in Hemi’s eyes made her worry that her father was going to gobble up her mother whole, and her along with her.

Hemi’s head turned to Betsy, and a shiver went through him.

Sylva noticed it, then looked to Betsy to see that Betsy had a small smirk on her face.

Her mother turned onto all fours, butt high in the air, and a grin on her face.

“Are you crazy?” Sylva said, “You don’t know if he’ll bend you over or bite you.”

“You gonna help me?” Betsy said with a raised brow.

Sylva looked at the coiling Naga. He was going to pounce any moment.

“Help how?” Sylva rushed.

“Get under me,” Betsy said, “legs toward me. I’ll tell you the rest then.”

She didn’t know what Betsy had in store, but maybe it was to help fight him off. She got on her back, and slid under Betsy.

As she looked, blushed at the sight. Her mother’s legs spread wide, and dripping slightly from their last encounter. Then Hemi struck. Betsy winced as he entered her in a pounce. Before Sylva could blink, Betsy’s lips were formed tight around Hemi’s higher erection.

He started to thrust, violent pushes that shook Betsy’s thighs like gelatin. A drip of excitement fell and hit Sylva on the cheek.

“What am I doing here?” Sylva snapped in alarm.

Betsy let out a groan of pleasure, “Sorry, almost forgot.”

Then she felt Betsy’s arms wrap around the top of her thighs. Sylva’s back straightened in surprise, then she felt the warmth and wetness of a tongue slide of her most private parts.

“Ah,” Sylva gasped, “No, don’t…”

Betsy’s tongue travelled down one side of her, then up the other, teasing the already inflamed lips. Then she teased just at the top of the girl’s entrance.

Sylva’s toes curled, and she tried to fight the good sensations. Kissing her mother was one thing, but this was too much.

A tongue entered her, slid in her intimate places, and shook her body.

“Why,” Sylva whispered as Hemi slammed into her mother from above.

“I’m not letting you get away dry,” Betsy grunted.

Sylva looked up at her mother’s slobbering divide, and wondered if she should do the same. Touch her, tease her, lick her. Hemi’s penis came away slick with each thrust, white globs of their previous experience sliding free.

Sylva’s body felt like it was on fire. The sights, sounds, and sensations, overwhelming her senses.

Then she saw it. Hemi’s second penis, which had gone flaccid but never returned to its hiding place, was growing in length again. It extended, and reached out just beneath her mother. Which meant it was just near her lips. As Hemi thrusted, the sweaty organ would tap her, on the nose, on the lips, teasing her.

Sylva remembered the Kobolds, and the warmth of holding them in her hand. They grew so excited, their eyes closed in pleasure, and just the feeling of their joy left her feeling warm in her gut.

Sylva reached out and held it. It was slick, with Betsy’s wetness and its own juices. It slid through her fingers, the veins sliding over her fingers one by one, then retreating until the head was squeezed in her palm.

Betsy’s tongue flickering over the little button between her legs made her thighs tighten, and her grip squeeze. Hemi swelled in her hands, and she felt guilty as if she might have hurt him.

It didn’t stop him though, if anything he thrusted harder.

Sylva squirmed in place. She felt like she could catch fire any moment, and her mind was lost in thoughts it shouldn’t have. She saw his manhood, slipping out and in, peeking toward her lips, and she wanted a taste. She didn’t know why, but she had to know.

She stuck her tongue out, and his length ran across her tastebuds. As it slipped away, she made a moaning sound of satisfaction that she would never be able to explain.

Hemi hissed and pressed forward, his body pressed tight against Betsy’s.

“Oh here he goes,” Betsy moaned before she planted her face between Sylva’s legs and sucked hungrily.

Sylva could feel Hemi grow in her hands. Were both going to blow? She put her mouth to the tip, and licked it gingerly.

She was thanked with a hot jet of Hemi’s seed into her mouth. It was salty, but also a little sweet, and oh so exciting.

Betsy moaned into her, sucking on her little button in a way she couldn’t resist. Her legs went straight, and her back arched against her will. Waves of pleasure crawled up her with every contact between Betsy’s tongue, and Sylva’s body, and Sylva’s tongue, and Hemi’s manhood.

As her body shuddered in joy, a white pulse from Hemi shot down over her chest, and the next over her chin, until at least it dribbled straight into her open mouth.

Sylva let out a moan, and then passed out.

When she woke up, she felt a tickling sensation over her body. It played between her legs, delicious motions that circled and curled over her short hairs and tired womanhood. She smiled, and squirmed at the attention.

The tickle left, and then went to her breasts, it circled over her nipple, and swept between the two of them. It was delightful, delicate, kind.

It flickered over her face, almost like the lick of a cat. She heard a hiss, and her eyes snapped open.

It was Hemi, loomed above her, his tongue flicking in and out.

He pulled up, almost knocking over the crates behind him.

“I’m sorry,” He said, “So sorry. I didn’t mean to, I just thought I would clean.”

Sylva looked around. They were still in the store room. Next to her was Betsy, ass in the air, sleep.

“I got you so dirty,” Hemi said, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to. You just kept touching it, and I can’t help it…”

Sylva laughed, and realized her whole body was sore. She felt a little sticky, and wet in more ways than one. The white liquid across her chest was mostly washed up, Hemi.

“Don’t worry,” She said, “We asked for it. I’m sorry we sort of forced it out of you.”

He looked down and away from her, “I’m not good at this.”

“You were great!” Sylva said as she stood up, “That was, well it was the most exciting moment of my life.”

He shivered, and Sylva knew she had embarrassed him.

“I mean,” He said, “This…”

He slithered close, and in a motion his tail wrapped around her. It pulled her legs together, wrapped her arms close, and then his face was just before hers. His tongue flickered over her nose, and Sylva blushed.

“What is this?” She asked.

A shiver ran through his body, and he made a face she didn’t understand. Then he swept up and kissed her, their glasses clinking together, his tongue flicking at hers. Then just as fast, his tail loosened, and she was standing in a circle of him.

She looked at him in silence, then with speed that surprised her for his size, he swept out of the room.

If that was her father, he might have a crush on her. Still, Betsy was pumped full of his semen, so that was good.

Betsy sat up with a snort, The Hog awakens. She looked confused, then smiled wide.

“Now that was worth the ride,” Betsy said, “I’m sore up and down.”

Sylva gave her a pat on the shoulders as Betsy stood up, “Yeah, he filled you up twice. A man like that, you might be giving birth to little snake girls.”

She laughed at her own joke, and Betsy giggled in reply.

“You have a lot to learn little Birdy,” Betsy said, “That just can’t happen, not today at least.”

Sylva’s face went straight. Betsy laughed, and hit her hard over the shoulders.

“Have little snakes, you’re a funny one.” Betsy chuckled as she straightened out her top and walked out of the store room.

What did she mean? Was she protected? Maybe she was already pregnant? She would have to ask, but Betsy seemed so sure.

So maybe that wasn’t her father?

Then maybe she had a crush.