Groova stepped through the door and closed it shut behind her.
She carried Gen to the bed and set him down on it like he was something fragile.
Before he could even sit up, she dropped to her knees at the foot of the bed.
She crawled toward him.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Her hips moved with every step, and each roll of them was a sentence she was too lazy to say out loud.
Her red eyes were fixed on him, half lidded, burning.
Her tongue ran across her lips.
She made sure he saw that part.
Gen’s face went the color of a tomato left in the sun too long.
“Groova.
Groova, wait.
Hold on.
Shouldn’t we wait until it’s nighttime?
That’s the rule.
Everyone knows the rule.
Things happen at night.
That’s when they’re supposed to happen.
It’s a well established tradition across every culture I have ever heard of.
The sun goes down, the candles get lit, and then, and only then, do the activities commence.
It’s basic etiquette.”
Groova shook her head.
She climbed over him, planted her hands on either side of his chest, and pinned him flat.
Her weight settled over him, warm and heavy, and her breath came out in warm pants against his neck.
“Groova knows Gen wants her,” she said.
Gen’s voice cracked in three different places.
“W-why would you think that? What gave you that idea? I have given you no indication. I have been a perfect gentleman. I have conducted myself with nothing but the highest standards of professional conduct.”
She hushed him.
One massive finger pressed gently against his lips.
“Sometimes,” she whispered, “it is better if nobody talks.”
And then she moved down.
Her hands found the waist of his pants.
She pulled them down fast, before his brain could file an objection.
His cock sprang free.
Groova gasped.
Her red eyes went wide.
She stared at it like it was a treasure she had been hunting for years.
“It is even bigger,” she said.
She lowered herself.
Her face hovered right over it and she panted warm breath across it, slow and teasing.
Then she asked, in that same curious, pleased voice:
“What is this called, Gen?”
Gen’s voice came out as a strangled whisper.
“It’s… a dick. Or a penis. Or a cock. It has a lot of names. It’s very flexible on the naming front. Whatever you want to call it, honestly, I’m not picky.”
Groova giggled.
The sound was low and thrilled.
“Groova wants Gen’s dick in her mouth.”
Gen’s heart dropped straight into his boots.
“Oh no no no.
Wait.
Wait wait wait. The source of this chapter is g.com.
Groova.
You have rows of teeth.
Sharp ones.
I’ve seen you tear a moose leg apart with those things.
If you get carried away even once, you could nick a blood vessel, and I would bleed out in about four seconds.
That is not a fun way to go.
That is a hospital way to go, and there are no hospitals here, so that is a dead way to go.
I am very attached to my blood.
I need all of it.
Please, I’m begging you, let’s just talk abou- Ahh~~!”
He moaned.
Groova did not wait for him to finish.
She had decided that the fastest way to shut him up was to use her very large tongue, and she did.
She wrapped it around him, warm and wet and careful, and giggled against him while she worked, kissing the tip every couple of strokes like she was rewarding him for being so brave.
Gen’s hands fisted in the sheets.
His eyes rolled back.
His brain was sounding alarms that nobody was listening to.
Before she could really get going, the cabin door swung open.
The aspen dryad stood in the doorway.
Her pale face was completely expressionless.
Her red eyes moved from Groova to Gen to the situation, and she processed all of it in about half a second then she walked over to the bed.
Without any emotion at all, she climbed onto the bed.
Her slender body wrapped itself over Gen’s thigh, and she stuck her tongue out at Groova.
A deliberate snub.
Then she licked Gen’s cheek.
Gen was blushing like a madman.
“What the hell is going on? What are you doing? How did you even know we were in here?”
She kissed him deep.
His protest died somewhere in between his throat and cock.
Then she pulled back, removed the leaf that covered her groin, and settled over him, and starting to grind against him.
She broke the kiss and looked at Groova.
Groova was fuming.
Steam might as well have been pouring out of her ears.
Her red eyes blazed and her miasma began to rise, creeping up into the dangerous levels.
The air turned heavy.
The light in the room started to bend.
The aspen dryad stopped it immediately.
She leaned over and kissed Groova.
Then she hopped on top of her, and before Groova could process the betrayal, the pale woman had her mouth on Groova’s giant breasts, sucking, while her hand slid lower and her fingers started working between Groova’s thighs.
Groova’s protest became a moan.
“AHN~~”
Her back arched off the bed.
Her claws dug deep into the sheets and tore them.
It took two minutes.
Two minutes of that and Groova came with a sound that probably scared every bird in the forest.
Her whole body shuddered.
Her toes curled.
She collapsed onto the mattress, breathless and flushed.
Gen stared at both of them.
Groova sprawled out, chest heaving. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
The aspen dryad on top of her, pale and composed and still moving.
And Gen thought to himself: why am I letting an opportunity like this fly?
He sat up.
He knelt over their side of the bed.
He pulled his shirt off over his head and tossed it aside, and in a hungry voice that surprised even him, he said.
“I wasn’t finished.”
Groova and the aspen dryad froze.
For five full seconds neither of them moved.
They just stared at him, chests rising and falling, red eyes locked on his.
Then they both pounced on him.
It was four hours before anybody found them.
Four hours that left Gen looking like a man who had been through a war, a famine, and a very enthusiastic spa treatment, in that order.
The cabin looked like a disaster zone.
Nøx pushed the door open while still talking, his golden eyes fixed on the ground as he stepped inside.
“My sister wanted to check out how your village base thing was coming alo”
He looked up.
“WHAT THE FUCK!”
In front of him was Gen.
His cheeks were hollowed out.
His eyes were sunken.
The beard was gone.
The lines were gone.
The years were gone.
He looked like he had been drained of a decade, because he had.
He was eighteen again, flat on his back in a nest of rumpled, torn sheets, with two dryads curled up on either side of him like bookends made of satisfied tree.
Groova was asleep with her head on his chest.
The aspen dryad was asleep with her head on his shoulder.
Both of them were smiling.
Gen was staring at the ceiling.
His mouth was slightly open.
He did not blink.
Behind Nøx, Vyxianna appeared.
She swept into the doorway with her posh royal attitude firmly in place, her chin up, her shoulders back, her voice carrying all the haughty grace of a woman who had never once been surprised in her entire life.
“Where the hell is that human? It was a simple request, brother. If you could not command your future spouse, how could you ever hope to-”
She stopped.
She looked.
“WHAT THE FUCK!”
They stood there.
Nøx and Vyxianna.
Siblings frozen in the doorway, staring at the same sight.
Two full minutes of silence stretched out, broken only by Groova’s soft snoring and the occasional rustle of the aspen dryad shifting in her sleep.
One of her pale arms was draped across Gen’s stomach.
She made a small, satisfied sound and burrowed closer.
Nøx’s eye twitched.
Finally, Vyxianna spoke.
Her voice came out flat and dead, stripped of all its royal polish.
“I thought he was supposed to be YOUR mat-”
“Shut up.”