“...All right,” agreed Edit. She un-draped herself from Callam and cooperated as he drew off her tunic and trousers. The farthest thing from a striptease, it rather reminded Callam of times looking after his younger kin, helping a sleepy child undress for bed. Meanwhile Rohan was doing something with the couch, passing his hands over it and humming a little. It was as warm as a coat hung by a fireside by the time Edit was undressed. They bore her down to rest on her belly, head pillowed on her arms. Her sigh this time was nearly an echo of Rohan’s dragon purr.
“Of all the supernatural powers of dragons, I like this one the best,” she mumbled into the crook of her elbow. “To have this warmth for the asking… I would give myself for that alone, if I had not already. Do what you will; I am content.”
“We have not done with you yet,” said Rohan. He caught Callam’s eye; in unspoken agreement they continued the massage over her whole back body, from the shoulders down to the soles of her feet and up to the crown of her head. Then they turned her over and worked up the front. Rohan seemed fascinated by the chance to explore Edit’s body so closely.
Callam, too, was more interested than he would have expected. He had caught a glimpse when the tributes bathed, but taken no special notice then. Now he began to learn the body of his friend with the attention of a lover. Where she was ticklish, where she was tender, where scarred, where soft. The more familiar her body became, the less he considered its gender desirable or otherwise. It was intimate and dear.
Edit rewarded the attention by relaxing into it, offering a low murmur of appreciation from time to time, or softly touching their hands or whatever else was in reach. She was so pleased and comfortable Callam almost thought he could feel it through his own skin. Rohan seemed to feel the same. As if by coincidence his hands moved from Edit to Callam. Their eyes met and they leaned in to kiss. It soon deepened, stoking the comfortable warmth into the heat of arousal.
“Go on,” Edit murmured, before Callam could feel self-conscious. “Your turn now. I want to see you enjoy each other.” She tugged at the hem of his tunic.
Callam took the hint and knelt up to strip it off. In the instant it took him to pull his own over his head, Rohan’s tunic also disappeared, perhaps by dragonish transformation, revealing a torso as finely sculpted as the rest of him. Nearly hairless, muscled chest and abdomen, small flat nipples. And no lower garment at all. His penis lay in the vee of his thighs, not erect but full and firm looking, slightly darker than the bronze of his skin, but lighter than the scant curls around the base. The tip barely emerging from the foreskin glistened a little. Callam’s mouth watered and his own cock throbbed.
“Wow,” he blurted the first thing that came into his head. “Nice, ah, detail work on the human shape,” and it was such an inane thing to say that he had to laugh. The others laughed with him, not unkindly.
“I hoped you would like it,” Rohan admitted. “Do you want to – “
“I want to taste you,” Callam said. “Can I do that?” It was probably a little late to be wondering whether draconic body fluids were safe for humans to ingest, but -
“Whatever you like,” Rohan answered, gleeful. “What must I do?”
“Just - let me,” Callam answered, as he clambered across Edit’s legs to kneel before Rohan and take that beautiful cock in his mouth. It tasted and felt as good as it looked, and Callam couldn’t help but make a noise of inarticulate pleasure. It was echoed by Rohan’s rumbling groan. Callam sucked down the length of Rohan’s shaft, guiding with his hand and stroking with his tongue to savor the curious flavor, not musky like an ordinary man but salty and spicy and slightly metallic.
It leaked a little as he sucked, a burst of slickness that Callam licked from beneath the foreskin. He tried all the techniques he himself enjoyed with other partners, excited as much by the freedom to indulge uninhibitedly (Edit’s gaze warm on his back) as by the act itself and his partner’s erotic responses.
Rohan was making noise almost continually now, and the gasps and half-voiced comments - “So sweet! So tight! There, ah, there!”-- went straight to Callam’s balls. Rohan’s cock was slick and hard in in his mouth, his hips twitching under Callam’s hands. Callam began to crave his own release. He freed one hand –
And Rohan pushed him back with a groan. “Stop,” Rohan gasped. “You must stop, or I will be overcome before you.” He leaned down and kissed Callam briefly, deep and hard. His voice was low and resonant with passion. “We must finish together for the bonding. Tell me how to give you greatest pleasure, my chosen, my jewel, I must please you and make you mine!”
“Tell me,” echoed Edit, rough-voiced. Her eyes glittered and she licked her lips; her color was high. “Tell me what you want and I will give it. Tell me how it feels to be so
ready and full of desire. Tell me so I can feel it too.”
“God,” Callam groaned overwhelmed to be so wanted, trusted – so loved. The emotion sharpened his arousal. “You both – I want you both to have me.” Somehow, stammering inarticulately, he managed to convey the image that came to him, and they shifted so that he knelt between Edit’s legs and Rohan behind him, curling possessively over his back.
And then Rohan slid his wet blunt cockhead up the cleft of Callam’s ass, stroking and pressing at the entrance to his hole, spreading slick hot fluid and teasing him with the promise of being filled. And Edit guided Callam’s cock against the lips of her cunt and the entrance to her hole as Callam described everything. Haltingly at first, for he wasn’t used to speaking in sex beyond a brief request or endearment, and to bare the whole of this experience was greater intimacy than nakedness of the body.
But he gave willingly what Edit asked, and when he saw and felt how it affected her, how she was transported vicariously by his experience until it became her own, then he was carried away with it, and became even more vocal than uninhibited Rohan.
He panted with the burning stretch as Rohan breached him. He praised the velvet slide of Edit’s folds along his own full and heavy cock, and the way her clit pressed the sensitive vein along the underside of the shaft as teasingly as a tongue. He cried out when Rohan’s thrusts found that electric spot deep in his gut and drove into it again and again. When his ass clenched, his balls tightened, and the urge to thrust to his own completion became unbearable, he confessed it, groaning.
And Edit said, “Come into me,” and he did, with as much care as he could, stroking once, twice, and then finding his release as Rohan twined a hand in his hair and spilled into him. Edit sighed, a quiet breath of surprise, and her inner muscles fluttered.
So they were bonded.
They collapsed all together in a heap, Rohan and Callam coming unsheathed as they softened. Callam moved to roll off from Edit, considerate of the burden of his weight, but she held on. “Stay, if you’re willing. You’re not too heavy, and I like the warmth of you,” she murmured in his ear. So Callam stayed as Rohan rolled a little away.
“Forgive me this moment of separation, my mates,” he murmured, sounding a little distracted “I can wait no longer.” Then he shifted form, becoming again the great bronze dragon that had struck them with such dread and awe at first sight. Not so fearsome now.
The queer feeling that meant ‘dragon nearby’ returned too, but likewise altered, now a sort of background vibration like the hum of a motor or the rush of a river over stones. Rohan returned to curl around his mates, and brought warmth with him. It radiated from the pebble-hided belly he pressed against their sides and was held close by the huge wing he draped over them, fine and light as a sheet parchment, if parchment were warmly alive. Callam had hardly realized he was beginning to chill in the sweat of their exertions. Now he was almost too warm, and very drowsy. Edit made a grateful noise and wiggled a little closer.
Rohan smiled on them, possessive and fond. Somehow despite the reptiloid jaws it had the same look as his human form’s boyish ingenuousness. “My Callam, my Edit, my mates, my treasures,” he rumbled quietly. “How fortunate I am to have you.”
“It’s us who’re lucky,” mumbled Edit, snuggling in the warmth, “that we found each other and changed all our fortunes.”
“Hrrrralllrrrssss,” agreed Rohan lazily, with a dragonish word all rumble and hiss. “Do humans have this idea also? A treasure that is valued not only for its natural usefulness and beauty, or its rarity, but because it is believed to give good fortune to one who holds it, perhaps even change one’s fate in the moment of finding?”
“A… talisman?” Callam suggested.