Tepin's Muse: Hetero Edition

Theesah put her fist on the outside of the circle again, then moved it inside, peering down at him expectantly.

"The Krell are inside the circle, and you want me to be in there too?" he asked with a flurry of confused feathers. "What does the circle signify?"

She opened her arms wide, then brought her closed fists to her chest. This was important to her, it meant something significant. Perhaps the circle signified friendship, community, or family. As a Valbara'nay, he was already familiar with the concept of a flock, a family that one elected to join. Was he being invited into Theesah's flock?

His hand wandered to the chunky, wooden pendant on his necklace, his feathers fluttering pink. Theesah seemed to guess from his expression that he had understood, her fat tail slapping against the floor happily. She reached towards him, her arm as long as he was tall, taking him gently by the wrist and guiding him closer. Before he could object, she plunged his hand into one of the wooden pots, Tepin grimacing as he felt the odd substance seep around his fingers. It was cool and viscous, very much like oil paint, and he withdrew his hand to see that his scales were stained with the red substance.

"Do I...paint with it?" he asked, holding his hand over the pot so that the pigment didn't drip on the floor.

Theesah seemed to consider for a moment, then she lay down heavily on her side, the impact making both the ground beneath his feet and her chubby underbelly shake. She looked much like she had when he had painted her in the planter, the feminine curve of her hip rising high into the air, her long tail coiled around behind him. He felt the heavy appendage tap his back, urging him closer, her yellow eyes watching him expectantly as he took a couple of hesitant steps towards her.

"You want me to paint...you?" he asked, his feathers erupting in a deep shade of pink. She took his hand, guiding it towards her beige underside, her seven fingers already stained with the red dye. His digits sank deep into the soft flesh just beneath her chest, his eyes widening as his hand disappeared up to the wrist. Her layer of fat was even more inviting than it had looked, yielding before his fingers like putty, her flush scales as smooth as glass. When she released him, and he pulled back, he left a red imprint of his hand behind.

He swallowed conspicuously as he glanced up at her face, his pink feathers standing erect, the eye-spots bobbing in the air. Was this some kind of initiation rite? A Krell ritual of sorts?

"W-What should I paint?" he stammered, "just handprints?"

She shook her head, leaning over to dip her hand into one of the pots, coating her fingers in yellow dye. This was rapidly becoming very messy. She brought it to her chest, painting a series of dots that ran down between the mounds of flesh that so resembled breasts. She waited expectantly as if that should be all the explanation that he needed.

"Okay...so...patterns?" he wondered. He extended an uncertain hand towards her underbelly again, his fingers trembling. He was painting on the naked scales of a Krell, of all things. He could hardly contain himself, he didn't know whether he wanted to hide, or if he wanted to plunge both of his hands into her inviting flesh. This wasn't necessarily sexual, he had to keep that at the forefront of his mind. The Krell were aliens, he had already seen that their ideas of personal space differed from his own. It was possible that their sense of modesty and what boundaries could be safely crossed differed too. This was just some kind of...tribal rite, something to induct him into her social group, nothing more.

He had to try to keep his mind off the silkiness of her scales, the fullness of her figure, or he'd get a damned eversion. This was a canvas just like any other, albeit a living one...that was warm and smooth to the touch...attached to the very incarnation of Valbara'nay beauty...

Art, art was the only thing that could hold his attention now. He would turn her belly into a masterpiece, even if he didn't fully understand what she expected of him.

He turned and peered down into the wooden pots, selecting the dark green pigment and dipping his finger into the liquid. His fingers moved just as they did when he was using his visor, he was no stranger to using a physical medium, though he preferred to paint with a brush rather than his own claws...

Trying to ignore the way that his finger created a wonderful indent in her belly, he drew the stalks of a plant, flowing and intertwining with one another as they traveled down towards her waistline. He stopped just short of it, the Krell didn't have any visible genitalia, but he didn't want to push his luck. Theesah watched all the while. She seemed curious, but she never tried to stop him, so he must be doing something right.

Having only a few simple colors to work with was limiting, and he had no palette upon which to mix them, but he did his best. He added blooming flowers to the stalks in hues of deep red, the same that he had painted on the torus, as they were still fresh in his mind. He remembered every detail of their folded petals, reproducing them as best he could manage with so few tools at his disposal. As he became engrossed in his work, adding a few yellow buds to the piece, he could almost ignore the fact that he was drawing on a sixteen-foot-long alien.

He stepped back to admire his work, it wasn't half bad. Theesah seemed to like it too, her eyes widening as she appraised the flowing stalks and the intricate petals.

"H-How's that?" he asked, wondering if he had done it right. She warbled her approval, then took his wrist again, dipping it into the blue ink and planting his hand into the doughy meat of her inner thigh. His feathers flared as his fingers sank into it, the mosaic of smooth scales deforming, her flesh spilling between his digits. Deep beneath the layer of cushion, he felt muscles like iron flex at his touch, rising up from beneath the surface to greet him. How he had admired these stout thighs, and now he was touching them, his heart racing in his chest as he dared to take a handful. It was like melting wax, so impossibly supple. How could someone be at once so soft, and so firm?

She released him, and he lingered there for a moment, testing the springiness of her flesh before realizing what he was doing. He pulled away, leaving a conspicuous handprint on the beige scales. It was an erogenous zone to his people, was that true for hers, or was he reading too deeply into this?

"Oh...oh dear," he mumbled as his feathers flashed purple. He examined his hand, realizing that substance was staining his fingers. "Does this stuff come off? Are people going to be able to see that we've been...that I've been...touching you?"

She warbled happily, her amber eyes watching him gleefully. Once again, she guided one of his hands into a pot of yellow pigment, releasing it and waiting for him to continue.

"I suppose you want more handprints," he muttered.

Theesah slapped her fat tail on the floor contentedly as his hand traced the long, wide curve of her hip, leaving a smear of yellow in his wake. He had to stand on his toes to reach, their breadth made them taller than he was when she was lying on her side like this.

He was growing a little more confident as he went. She wanted to be touched, she wanted him to leave his mark on her. Why? Was this really part of some initiation ritual, or was it something more?

Her vast body was a playground for his comparatively tiny fingers. So much flesh, so much muscle, the wonderfully varied textures of tough leather and flush scales. His violet eyes wandered down to her tail, and he wondered if she would permit him to touch it. Like her thighs, it was another feature that he found irresistible. It was packed with so much muscle, so powerful that it could drive her massive body through the water effortlessly, sheathed in a layer of pillowy fat despite its strength.

It wasn't as though he could surreptitiously slip a hand down there, her body was too long for that, he had to walk a few steps to reach it.

He thanked his stars that she didn't speak the language of feather displays, his pink plumes were advertising his embarrassment and his arousal with their involuntary flashing. He had never been good at keeping his emotions in check, especially when an attractive woman was putting the moves on him. That usually came in the form of a sordid whisper, a lingering glance, or a tap on the rump from a more brazen suitor. Tepin had never ended up in a situation like this before, painting a woman, running his hands across her body...

With a start, he realized that he was fully everted, his engorged hemipenis straining against the fabric of his tight shorts. Praying that Theesah wouldn't notice, he moved down her body, pausing to leave colorful handprints and simple floral patterns as he went.

His heart pounded in his chest as his hand wandered between her legs, his palm brushing the base of her tail. It was as thick around as a stout tree trunk, just as packed with fat and muscle as he had imagined. Despite the overlapping scutes that ran down its upper side, the underside was smooth and fleshy, his fingers sinking into her fat. It was so impossibly supple, he could fill his palm with it. Tepin's eyelids fluttered as the fabric of his shorts brushed against his eversion, stimulating his sensitive shafts. He was becoming far too excited, this was getting out of hand. At this point, was he not just exploiting his new friend?

He pulled away reluctantly, leaving a trail of multi-colored hand and fingerprints that wandered down her belly, his arousal only growing as his eyes played over them. Everywhere that his hands had been was clearly marked on her voluptuous body. His fingers were stained with the stuff, who knew when it would wear off?

"O-Okay," he stammered, Theesah peering at him as her amber eyes caught the light. "I'm done, right? Am I...in the circle now?"

She rose to a sitting position, looming over him, her massive figure casting him into dark shadow as it blocked out the light from the lamp above them. She reached down and gently tugged at his flowing tunic, Tepin's feathers flashing pink again.

"You want to paint me now? I don't know if..."

Theesah was persistent, warbling at him as she cocked her head in confusion. She didn't understand why he was refusing, her rite was only half-complete. He might insult her if he didn't follow through, she might think that he was rejecting her friendship.

"Alright," he conceded, the Krell huffing happily as he began to pull off his tunic. He had to wonder what she made of him as he exposed his smooth torso, his scales still shining and reflective from the last time that he had waxed them. Just like her, his green hide tapered to a lighter cream on his belly, extending to his inner thighs and down the underside of his tail.

His tunic now discarded on the floor beside him, Theesah's hands moved to the pots, the Krell coating her fingers liberally. Tepin wasn't sure what to do, so he just stood there, his eversion seeming to brush against the fabric of his shorts with his every breath as his pink feathers remained erect.

He flinched as her fingers brushed his chest, so large, but so gentle. Handprints weren't really on the table, as hers would pretty much cover his entire torso, so she began to paint on him instead. His scales were sensitive, ticklish, shivers rolling down his spine as her dull claws brushed them. She was painting him with strange runes and geometric patterns of unknown meaning. They followed the natural contours of his body, the Krell pausing to paint a floral pattern around his navel. He twitched and twisted, struggling to keep still, his breathing growing heavier as she crawled slowly towards the conspicuous bulge in his shorts.

Damn the females for making him think that he always needed to show off his rump and his thighs, there was no way that Theesah could miss it.

As she moved down to his waistline, she attempted to curl a finger beneath the elastic. It was like trying to undress a doll for her. Tepin reached down and eased her away, his plumes flashing in shades of purple and yellow.

"H-Hang on," he mumbled, flustered by her tugging. "I don't think...I'm not sure that..."

She succeeded in hooking a finger around his shorts, beginning to pull them down his thighs, Tepin's knees going weak as the fabric rubbed against his tender shafts. He covered himself, using the feathers on his forearm to obscure his lower body as his member bounced free. Theesah cocked her head at him, Tepin taking a step back as she tried to part his feathers.

"I get that you want to paint my legs," he began, "b-but I don't think that you need to..."

As she gently parted his feathers, her yellow eyes fixed on his hemipenis. It was a fleshy, two-pronged fork covered in dull barbs, little more than bumps. It was about four inches long, two for the main shaft, and two more where it split into two tapered glans. The organ usually remained inside his genital slit, engorging and everting when he became aroused. With no skin or covering to protect it, it was extremely sensitive.

There were two channels cut into the outside of the organ, ending at each glans. During ejaculation, the semen would travel along the outside of the penis. Said channels were currently leaking strands of clear, watery fluid, Tepin covering his face in embarrassment as Theesah examined his alien anatomy. He had no idea what the Krell equivalent looked like.

She made a low rumbling sound that he could feel in his very bones, and when he finally moved his hands away from his face, he saw that her long snout was only inches away from his member. She peered up at him with those amber eyes, her warm breath washing over his shafts, that alone enough to make him shiver.

"Aren't...you going to paint me?" he asked. Theesah reached out and began to draw on his inner thigh, Tepin struggling to stand on shaky legs, using his muscular tail to prop himself up. This was too much, she had to know what she was doing, what effect she was having on him.

His member swelled and throbbed as her fingers stroked the sensitive scales in its vicinity, leaking more beads of glistening fluid, her yellow eyes watching him closely as though trying to gauge his reaction. His feathers were going haywire, waves of pink and yellow passing through his erect headdress, the eyespots catching the light as they waved back and forth. She moved to his belly, a scant inch above where his shaft emerged from his slit, painting a red crescent that she decorated with small dots.

Her snout rose up to his face, Tepin blinking at her through the haze of his arousal. Her lipless jaws parted, her interlocking teeth opening, the tip of her blue tongue emerging to lap at his slender neck. A flash of pleasure coursed through him like an electric shock, his knees very nearly giving out. Azure flesh glided against his throat, warm and slimy, damp with her saliva. She dragged it across his scales as though she was sampling his taste, or perhaps it was another kiss.

"What are you...doing..?" he murmured as she pulled back, her massive head seeming to hover in front of him. Her jaws parted again, that long, winding tongue snaking towards him. He felt it brush his scaly lips, its tapered tip probing, its azure surface glistening. Tepin couldn't help but open his mouth, his heart skipping a beat as the slippery surface of her organ glided against his own. Its texture was incredibly soft and smooth, like wet velvet, strands of her saliva drooping from his chin as she pushed more of its length inside.

It explored him, its silky surface brushing against the roof of his mouth, the taste of it filling his head. He tried to meet her kiss, if that was what she was doing, his people had no equivalent. His tiny tongue paled in comparison to her wet, flexing muscle, Tepin suppressing a gag as its point pressed into his throat. It should alarm him, but something about this sordid act was intensely intimate, undeniably erotic. There was so much saliva, fat droplets of it sliding down his smooth chest, and why wouldn't there be? She was so large that he could have fit his entire upper body in her mouth.

Theesah finally pulled out, Tepin trembling as he felt her soft flesh slid past his lips, a fat rope of her drool linking them together. It broke, falling to his chest to join the sheen that was collecting there, Tepin looking down to see that his member was more swollen and needy than ever.

"Is this...part of the ritual?" he wondered aloud.

He flinched as she dragged her flat tongue across his belly, seeming to appreciate its polished texture, the flustered Valbara'nay failing to stifle an unbecoming moan. God, he sounded like some kind of lounge whore. He had more self-respect than that, shouldn't he at least play a little hard to get?

Oh, who was he kidding? Who could deny this avatar of feminine beauty and strength? It was like a wet dream made real, he would never have imagined that he would end up in this situation, not in his wildest fantasies. To do so would be unforgivably self-indulgent, why would a Goddess show interest in him? Yet here she was...

"Do you really want to do this with...me?" he asked in disbelief. "We've not known each other for more than a day, are all Krell this...friendly?"

She licked his thigh, his head spinning, his hands wandering down to rest on her leathery snout as his feathers flashed.

"I'm so...small. I don't know what I could do for you..."

He trailed off as he felt her breath on his member once more, the Krell's blue tongue snaking forth. Tepin's claws dug into her in alarm as a wave of warmth and pleasure washed over him, but fortunately, she was far too tough for him to stand any chance of hurting her. Her silky organ dragged from the base of his member to his twin glans, wide enough to encompass him two or three times over, brushing against his thighs in the process. It just kept going, there was seemingly no end to it, her saliva making her contact slippery. His nerves were raw, exposed, his eyes forced shut by the throb of sensation as she lapped at him.

Theesah curled her long tail around behind him, gently lying him down, Tepin sinking into the appendage's cushiony underside like it was an oversized couch. His upper back and his head were now nestled in her yielding fat, which seemed to mold around him like jump gel, his rump sitting on the cool deck as his own tail passed between his legs. Theesah poised above him, her blue tongue hanging from her mouth as she watched him expectantly. Was she waiting for permission to continue? Could he bear to ask such a thing of her, or would his embarrassment overcome him? His need was so great, he was trembling, still in disbelief.

He didn't need to ask, she could see the desire in his eyes, her prehensile tongue returning to his loins. She licked at his shaft, running the tip of her organ between his glans, coating every inch of his tender flesh in her warm drool as she explored him. Tepin pushed back into the pillowy flesh of her tail, trying to stop himself from squirming, but her every glance and stroke made him shudder.

The weight of her tongue pressed his member against his smooth belly, tickling his scales, leaving a smear of saliva in its wake. Tepin couldn't believe what was happening, he must be dreaming, surely? Every stroke of her hot, slimy tongue made his back arch and his tail curl, his clawed toes scraping against the deck. She watched him all the while with those yellow eyes, her every lick measured, knowing that she had the strength to hurt him and holding back. There was probably as much muscle in her tongue alone as most Valbara'nay had in their tails.