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Passing Snake’s narrow coffin of a cave, I peek inside, only to find it empty.
I do not know how he can enjoy sleeping in that tightly confined space. I only know I’d rather sleep out here in the open, even when it’s cold and bitter with fierce winds in the winter, than stuff myself into a hole that barely has a finger-width of wiggle room.
Shuddering at that thought, I move along.
The cave I share with Scar is empty. Blankets we found in the forest and wash in the stream are piled up on either side of our tidy shared space, showing where we sleep across from each other.
My gaze automatically looks for the pouch where I store my things.
It is not next to the bed, but my fingers graze it at my hip, hanging from the same cord as my loin cloth. It is safe. I have never lost it yet. I let out a relieved sigh, before I force myself to move on to the opening of Fox’s cave.
I am sure to keep a four-foot distance to avoid what Scar calls the splash zone.
There are some disturbingly wet sounds coming from inside.
Apollo be damned, I do not wish to look.
“Stop tugging on your ugly cock!” I call out, covering my eyes.
“Get lost, buzzkill!” he calls back, clearly still deep in the grasp of his hormonal urges.
The wet slapping noises don’t even slow down for a second.
“I need to talk to you!”
“Then, make it dirty talk!”
Gods above, he’s impossible.
I move back a little more before I take my hand away from my eyes, wondering if what I’m about to do is a good idea. Then, I see Fox isn’t alone, and I let out a groan. I turn away, but there’s no use in pretending I didn’t see it.
I avoid making eye-contact as I wonder if leaving them alone like this would really make Scar mad.
They look busy enough not to bother us, that’s for sure.
My feline brother is laying on his bed of blankets, loin cloth on the ground at his side while he tugs furiously on his black, hook-ended cock. Trails of cum paint his flat, red-brown furred stomach, but it looks like he’s mostly aiming for the floor.
Snake is watching him curiously as he unties his own loin cloth and frees his scaly, double-barrelled cock for his quick expanding tongue to flick over, basically whipping it until both lengths are rigid.
“Please don’t teach Snake how to be horny,” I complain. “It’s bad enough hearing you do that all day and night. I don’t need to hear this, too.”
As if he’s trying to make me hear more, Snake’s tongue rolls around his right cock, squeezing tight with a wet sucking sound that goes on as he tugs that cock with his long, stretchy tongue. He wraps his hand around the other length and I look away.
“Too late for that,” Fox breathes out, just before he closes his eyes and grunts loudly.
His hand stills. Cum seeps onto the growing puddle in the middle of the floor.
“Snake has been sitting there doing weird things with his tongue for a while now. He just lost the loin cloth so you could get a closer look."
Fox sits up, rubbing his hooks and sighing softly.
“Apollo, you need a mate,” I tell him.
“I’ve been praying for one,” he says, leaning against the cave wall as he gazes past me, staring into space.
“You? You’ve been praying?”
He gestures to the puddle of spunk of the cave floor. “This is how I worship, and it’s how I’ll continue to worship, until the Gods see fit to bless me with a mate who wants to feel what my hooks can do.”
