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Kroaicho

I know there is no miscommunication or misunderstanding now. Olivia’s skin is purple with zha’s rage, but also with the light that zha got from me. And we are both thrumming green, and not just because of this confusing arousal that zha spoke of or something done to zha by the genali.

No, this is our own glow, and this time I plan to enjoy it and not allow the doubts that hit me before—that zha would take my hoard—distract me.

With that thought, I can no longer wait to touch zha and surge forward, eliciting a shocked squawk from Olivia before my limbs tighten enough to pull out that sigh of contentment as I squeeze.

I take in a deep breath, impatient to hear the sounds zha makes when I let out my expellent, but zha interrupts me. “Wait!”

I close the flaps of my expellent with great difficulty, skin thrumming with my annoyance. “What now? I would like to feel you writhing again.”

Zha makes a choking sound, then speaks again. “I want that too, but I don’t want this to be one sided.”

My tusks start grinding together that we are back to this argument. “You don’t have expellent, Olivia.”

“I know that, but don’t think I forgot that you almost told me somewhere I could touch,” zha snaps back, zha’s skin lighting up purple to match my own.

“You do not like to touch,” I retort.

“I wouldn’t be offering if I didn’t want to do it. It’s easier when it’s me touching someone else. I want this, Kroaicho. Tell. Me.” The last two words are clipped and forceful and I relent.

“Inside my nostrils,” I explain.

“Say what?” zha responds, skin lighting up blue.

“The flaps that hold back my expellent. Some zhannel find something soft to hold and stroke in there,” I say with a huff.

“Oh, ‘some zhannel’? Never you?” zha responds, mocking in zha’s voice.

“As I said, it is not necessary that—”

“Stop talking and shift me around so I can do this, uh… thing,” zha says with conviction.

I move zha farther up onto my upper segment as I push my head back and lower my snout, ensuring that zha’s limbs can reach.

“There are four. All of them or just one?” zha asks.

“One is sufficient, I am sure,” I chitter back.

“Four it is, then. Luckily I have four hands now,” zha says while reaching up toward me.

My spikes tingle and my middle segment twitches in anticipation.

“You are going to have to squeeze me harder than that or this might be more violent than pleasurable,” zha tells me and I quickly comply.

The idea of zha’s wrist claws near such a delicate area while zha is angry is horrifying. My body is rigid as each of zha’s hands make gentle contact with the fluttering edges of my nostrils. The first touch sends waves of feeling through all of my segments and I relax.

I trust zha, and there is something about the purple of zha’s skin mixed with the thrumming green of zha’s mating signal that is very exciting. Zha gently moves zha’s soft, deliciously clawless hands into my bottom nostrils and I let out a long, chittering moan.

“The top ones are tight, Kroaicho,” she whispers in manticorid. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” I click back, falling back to my native language in my excitement.

The pressure against the slits of my upper nostrils increases, and then my whole snout is throbbing with pleasure as the tips of each of zha’s fingers find the edges of my expellent flaps.

“Yes,” I hiss out, then lose the ability to communicate.

Zha has found each ridged edge and is stroking in long, slow glides. Zha’s skin is slightly rough and it's making me let go of my tight control. Not long after, enough expellent leaks to help each stroke of zha’s fingers glide in a smooth, continual oval.

I hold my segments rigid and pull zha’s soft body closer to me, tucking zha tight to me as the pleasure builds in stronger and stronger streaks of feeling from my snout down the the end of my last segment.

Zha increases the speed of zha’s stroking, zha’s own breath coming fast as I keep my flaps closed tight, but revel in the warmth of zha’s hands and zha’s scent as my breath bellows in and out along the upper reaches of each flap.

I never thought a scent would be pleasurable, but with each stroke and each deep drag of breath, my segments get continually tighter. When each flap finally seizes, sending waves of pleasure from my snout, I lose control of my flaps and on the next exhale I flood my expellent into zha’s face.

My segments are quaking as Olivia lets out zha’s delicious sounds of pleasure and zha’s body writhes against me.

As the pleasure settles into a contented thrum along my skin, I shift my body so zha can lay against me. Zha’s pleasure has made zha sleepy and it’s not long before I can no longer see the pink glow of zha’s eyes.

I’m still awake, eyes roaming over zha’s beautiful, treasured features when zha wakes up again.

“That was amazing, Kroaicho,” Olivia whispers to me.

“It was,” I agree.

“Aren’t you glad you get to do that more than twice?” zha teases.

“I am,” I agree again. “Now let’s sleep so there is some time before the sharing of stories.”

Zha laughs. “You and your stories. That would have normally freaked me out. The idea of being out there with a group, I mean… but I’m looking forward to it too. For now, just hold me?”

And so I do.