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Fiore knew not what remained for Enzo to reveal to him. Still, “If you wish to show me something, I’m all eagerness to see.”
Enzo stood. He set aside the towel Fiore had draped over his shoulders.
Then he untied his drawer-strings and stepped out of them.
And Fiore beheld more of Enzo’s bare form than he’d ever seen before.
All the disparate details he’d glimpsed now came together in a cohesive whole that proved far more than the sum of its parts. Fiore’s hungry eye swept him up and down, lingering on the lean musculature of the well-formed limbs, the sinews in the thighs and the distinct curve of the calves, the striking Adonis belt leading the eye down to the perfect cock at rest. The body’s beauty reignited the spark of Fiore’s desire.
Enzo sat down again with thighs splayed wide and took his cock in hand. But rather than stroke it to full mast as Fiore expected, he simply lifted it out of the way of what dwelled beneath. Where one might expect to find a purse of stones—or even a half-full purse like Fiore’s own—there instead lay a soft nest of dark curls. Fiore hardly had time to wonder at it before Enzo’s fingers parted it to reveal a pair of dusky rose-petals, the narrow chasm between them gleaming wet as if with seed. Curious, unexpected, yet undeniably…
“Marvelous,” Fiore breathed.
Enzo’s slight sigh of relief nonetheless resounded in the near-silence of the forest’s evening.
“I’d like to take you inside me,” Enzo said, drawing Fiore’s rapt attention from what lay between his thighs. “By a different road, but to the same end.”
Fiore knew he ought to say something more to dispel the disguised-yet-evident anxiety writ in Enzo’s brows and the worrying of his scarred lip. Instead, he heard himself ask, “Have you done this before?”
“Often.” A shy smile flickered across Enzo’s face. “Though it’s been some time. And you?”
Fiore hesitated. He’d lain with a man who had a cunt before; a particular bo’sun, one who’d paid handsomely and treated Fiore well. But the bo’sun hadn’t wished Fiore to enter him by that or any other means. Rather, he liked to have Fiore’s mouth upon his cock—a cock far smaller than most men’s, perhaps, but undeniably the same flesh, and Fiore had delighted to wrap the whole of it in his tongue and taste its sea-salt spend. Enzo’s situation, while it bore some superficial similarities, seemed another thing altogether. A thing which called to mind certain stories Fiore had dismissed all his life as mere sailors’ tales.
“I haven’t had the opportunity, myself,” Fiore said at last. “Though I’ve heard the legends.”
Enzo raised an eyebrow. The corner of his mouth went up alongside it. “Legends of cunts?”
“Most men do sing their praises, or so I’m told,” Fiore admitted. “Though not most of the men who lie with me. But no, I mean the legends of dragons. And the… particulars of their anatomy.”
Enzo’s left brow arose to meet his right. “You’ve heard the rumors of my bloodline, then.”
“Something more than rumor, it would seem,” said Fiore.
Enzo gave a soft laugh like a vernal breeze ghosting across a field of wildflowers. “If I am a dragon myself, or the descendant thereof, I know not. While I’ll admit to some self-interested research in the history of the matter, I can speak with confidence only on the particulars of my own body.”
Particulars which Fiore found himself eager to learn. “What ought I to call it? A cunt, you said?”
Enzo shrugged. “I’ve called it so ever since I learnt the word.”
Fiore supposed it would suffice. If it were a cunt, however, that raised an important question.
“Will you…” Fiore searched his mind in vain for the correct euphemism, not wanting to give offense. “Is there any danger of…?”
“You cannot get me with child,” said Enzo.
“Are you certain? Because from all I’ve heard, this is exactly how it happens. I still have a stone to my name,” Fiore reminded him.
“Even so,” Enzo insisted. “I have plumbed its depths and found no womb at its terminus.”
Fiore raised his brows.
A faint tint arose in Enzo’s face. “My hypothesis is that it is a vestigial vent, or cloaca, left over from when my ancestors transformed themselves from mythic monsters into mortal guise. From the physical changes to my voice and body during adolescence I must conclude that I possess internal testes—again like a reptile or bird. Of course, I can make no experiment to prove it, nor have I found any conclusive evidence for or against. So my hypothesis must remain a mere hypothesis. Nevertheless, for all my experience I remain barren. And those in the family history like myself produced no issue. It seems dragons require something more to beget other dragons.”
Fiore supposed that confirmation enough. Still, “Thought you said you weren’t a dragon.”
Enzo smiled. “I said I didn’t know.”
“And when you say you plumbed its depths…?”
