Razul pauses and turns toward the quiet sound. I reach for him, and my whine gets louder, more demanding. I frown at him, pouting.
The warmest, most beautiful smile I’ve seen yet spreads across his face, and he dries his hands, then comes and scoops me up, cradling me to his chest.
I nuzzle against his neck, humming happily.
Razul carries me to the pool, setting me on the edge as he washes the sweat and dust from his skin.
I kick at the water, splashing him playfully.
His rich laugh fills the room as he flicks me gently in return.
After drying us both thoroughly, Razul tucks me into the sling on his chest as he carries blankets and pillowcases out to the river, washing away the myriad fluids. He hangs the linens on a line to dry, then stokes a fire in a clay stove nearby. Whatever’s inside it burns without smoke, and he produces a pair of giant green speckled eggs, each the size of my head, setting them in a pot of water over the heat.
I watch in awe as his feet are able to fish the eggs out of the boiling water without injury, and then he sets the eggs in the sand to cool.
He cracks open the top of one, peeling back chunks of shell to reveal the white.
As I peek out of my sling and sniff at it, he offers me a small piece. I take a little nibble—then immediately spit it out as the texture violently disagrees with me.
Razul just laughs and pets me behind my ears, continuing to eat his egg. He reaches the yolk, which is an odd blue color.
He dips a finger into it, offering that to me.
I hesitate, but Razul maintains the offer patiently.
I tentatively lean forward and tap just the very end of my tongue against the yolk.
It has a silky texture and a rich, fatty flavor that lights up pleasure in my brain. I especially crave fat now after the hucow transformation.
I eagerly suck the yolk off Razul’s finger, and he offers me more.
The rich fat goes straight to my chest, and by the time Razul finishes his dinner, my breasts are full and tender.
Thus, I become Razul’s dessert. He sits me up on the low roof of his house, leaning into my breasts and methodically draining me. The way he massages me with his fingers, gently but firmly forcing the milk out, feels so fucking good.
I cling to his head to keep from falling over, and my fingers play absently over his halo of horns.
Razul shudders and moans; they’re sensitive.
Full of greed, I eagerly rub the horns closest to my hands.
He snorts, catching my wrists in one hand and easily holding them behind my back, forcing me to politely endure my milking.
I squirm and whimper as the heat pangs harder and harder between my legs. I press my thighs together, desperate for friction.
Once my breasts are empty, Razul pries my thighs apart, plunging his tongue between my legs.
My eyes roll back with sheer pleasure as I cum fast and hard, squirting into Razul’s mouth. He eagerly drinks it down, sucking at my clit to keep me cumming.
As relaxation settles over my body, I surrender to it, slumping off the roof.
Razul easily catches me with a light laugh.
I spy his dripping cock and reach greedily for it, but Razul clicks his tongue and stuffs me back in my sling.
By the time the sun sets, the pillows and blankets are dry again. Razul reassembles his nest and settles on his back, pulling me across his chest. I’m too tired for further mischief as the steady beat of his heart lulls me to sleep.
He carries me with him at dawn, collecting eggs from boxes lined with straw. He settles the eggs in a wide basket like the one he made for me, then carries them back to the house and places them underground in a cool, humid cavern.
