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I lie back down and she immediately plasters herself to my front, pushing those large teats against my chest and rubbing herself against my skin. She sighs and clutches against me, and as I stare at the ceiling of the cave, I wonder if any male has ever been as tortured as I am…or enjoyed it so much.
When the skies outside begin to lighten, Pak rolls over, mumbling, and Steff opens her eyes, blinking up at me.
It makes me feel strangely vulnerable. She gazes at me, studying my face, and I am…seen in a way I do not think I have ever been seen before. My cock aches with its morning rising, and it is not helped when her hand rises, as if she is going to reach out to touch my face. I want that, I realize. Her eyes are clear and bright, and she still reaches for me. Her fingers hover over my jaw and our eyes meet—
—only to be interrupted by the angry bellow of one of the creatures outside.
The sound is loud and close, and Pak wakes up from his sleep with a cry. "Papa!!"
"I am here." I jump to my feet and scoop up my son. "You are safe. Papa is here."
He whimpers, burrowing his face against my neck, clutching at me. "Is it the Great Smoking Mountain again?"
"No, it is the great shelled things from yesterday," I remind him, stroking his back. "Do you remember?"
"They do not eat people," he says, sniffling. "I remember."
"Very good." I am proud of him. "Come, we will look at them and you will see there is nothing to fear while we are in the cave." I do not glance back at Steff, because if I do, I suspect I will become very distracted. For now, my son comes first. So I move to the front of the cave and step out into the early morning sunlight. "Look out. What do you see?"
Pak lifts his head, his mane sticking out on all sides as it does in the mornings. He rubs a small fist over his eyes and I am reminded of how young my son is. How hard this is for him to realize we might be losing another home. "I see shells," he says after a moment. "Are they hiding under the sand?"
I glance out at the beach. I have checked it several times during the night, and most of the creatures have settled down from their earlier march onto the shore. They are not gone, instead choosing to burrow under the reddened sands like so many tentacle-wreathed hills. Their heads are not visible, but I know they are still there, waiting. Still dangerous, but not as terrifying as yesterday. "I do not know," I admit, rubbing his back. "But they do not look fearsome like this, do they?"
"They look sleepy," he says, and a little giggle escapes him.
"Perhaps they are," I say, smiling. "We will stay out of their way if they are determined to nap on our shore."
"Do you think they will go away soon?" Pak asks.
I do not have an answer for this. "Ezz's stories said that the beaches were only red for a moon. I cannot imagine they will stay forever. When the red goes away, they will too, I think."
This satisfies my son. "Until then, we hide in here and eat Steff's fish?"
There is a laugh behind us, and I know the female is listening in. I smile, hugging my son to my chest. "Until then, yes. We hide our heads and wait for the beach to be ours once more." I turn and look at Steff…and then I wish I had not.
She is curled up on the floor, tugging her mane over her shoulders as if she can somehow hide all the skin that is now exposed. She looks soft and inviting like this, naked and bare except for the foot tightly wrapped and stretched out in front of her. The piles of furs I pulled off of her are currently propping up her bad foot so it does not touch the ground, and she looks uncomfortable to be without them hiding her. Without the clothes, I can see that her hips are wide and generous, and that fascinating patch of fur between her legs is nearly hidden by her thighs. Her teats are fascinating to me. Without the layers of fur, they do not look like a thick slope. Instead, they are soft and full and sag ever so slightly under their heavy weight. The valley between them is deep, and the tips are a pale pinkish brown. I remember how that tip felt under my hand, how it felt both hard and soft, and I want to touch her again. Why does she hide such big, fascinating teats under a harness and layer upon layer of fur? She should be proud of their size. All the strange females have these teats, but I remember R'ven was small on top. Steph is not small on top.
