Atolls Furry Gay Sex

Cryss sighed and climbed down from the tree. There was no sign of Atoll's Sentinel, and he could finally get some sleep. As he shimmied down the trunk of the ancient oak, his head swam with memories of the day. First there had been the rude awakening in the early morning as one of Atoll's warbeasts attacked them in their sleep. This one had been worse than usual. Its mouth had been a twisted mass of multilayered fangs, its face was an eyeless earless sphere of grey flesh, and the rest of the body looked like it had been assembled from discarded parts of a thousand failed sculptures.

Proscutt must have really been hitting the absinthe that day, thought Cryss sadly, not that he knows what Atoll feeds him any more. For that matter, he doesn't know what's night and what's day any more. Cryss remembered when Proscutt had been the Elder Glade's brightest young druid, able to create creature-forms of stunning beauty and innovative design, which the Elders then projected themselves into to try them out (one of the perks of being an Elder).

Cryss could remember one particular form he had gotten to try (a rare treat for a young Wanderer), a graceful creature with eight slender but supple legs and a long proboscis, that could wend its way through the branches of trees like it was swimming in a sea of green. Memories like that made seeing the monstrosities Atoll called his "beauties" even worse, horrifying forms inhabited by the broken and bleeding minds of Atoll's torture subjects, minds so filled with pain and fear that all they could do was lash out in mindless anger.

Cryss and Straven had fought this particular beast for almost the entire morning, Cryss with his mindblade and his songs, Straven with his hooves and horn. Then, when the beast finally fell and the air rang with the echoes of relief from the newly-freed (and much-relieved) mind that had propelled it, they had gotten almost no chance to rest at all before one of the Citizen's Posses had caught up with them (probably drawn by the Thundernote Cryss had been forced to sing) and they had to flee for their lives through the dense forest. To make them even more tense, Straven had spotted a Sentinel hovering around and had been forced to suddenly throw Cryss from his back to stop him from singing the Song of the Fox he'd been singing. The stately old Unicorn had apologized to Cryss over and over for pitching him forward so suddenly that he had tumbled head-over-tails into the underbrush, receiving a nasty bruise on his head and a sprained wrist in the bargain. Cryss had assured Straven over and over that he understood completely and wasn't angry at all. Still, every time the Unicorn saw Cryss wince when he pushed a branch aside or rub his head where the bruise lay like a hard nut under his skin, the guilt overcame him and he apologized all over again. Cryss was touched by the moving display of concern from the usually businesslike and crusty Unicorn, but was beginning to worry that he'd never hear the end of it.

Then, to cap off an already unpleasant day, they had met up with Mennios the Woodling, who in between sessions of furiously grooming his long brown fur had reminded them that Sa, their mutual good friend and a Wolven Priestess, was just about due for her litter. This meant that they had to somehow cover the distance between the section of Springfloor Woods they were traveling in and the Temple of Brren before the following evening.

This had started a heated discussion between Cryss, who thought they should continue travelling until Last Light, and Straven who had finally convinced him that after all they had been through that to travel another quarter-league would kill them. They had both been ill-tempered with fatigue and a lot of things had been said, with Cryss hotly accusing Straven of being callous and cold for possibly abandoning Sa when they had promised they would be there at the birth, and Straven icily replying that it must be nice to be a young Wanderer and not have to deal with such petty concerns as the limits the Goddess placed on her children, like needing to eat and sleep.

Just before now, Cryss had sullenly agreed to stop, but insisted on climbing this oak tree and checking for the Sentinel, despite Straven's protests that he would be risking further injury to his wrist, not to mention dropping forty feet to the forest floor when he collapsed from exhaustion. As he reached the bottom of the trunk and dropped lithely to the thick moss below, Cryss decided that it was time to clear the air and make amends.

He looked around the camp. Their small fire was still glowing and putting out its steady stream of greenish musky smoke. Cryss wrinkled his nose in disgust. The ubiquitous moss of Springfloor made an excellent fuel, burning long and casting a great deal of heat. But it really did smell like the armpit of a swamp-rat with the flu when it did so. Their meagre belongings were still there, Cryss's backpack, quiver, and leather armour tossed to the ground wherever, and Straven's sidebags, armour, and anklets stacked in a neat pile by the fire. Cryss went over to where he had drawn up their circle of Wards (to Straven's painstaking instructions) and examined them carefully. They were still undisturbed, so the area of protection they provided (roughly the surrounding half-acre) was still intact. But Straven was nowhere to be seen.

Cryss puzzled as he crouched down next to the runes, then remembered that just before he had headed up the tree Straven had muttered something about beginning to smell as bad as the fire and had headed off into the woods. In the heat of the moment, Cryss hadn't paid much attention. But now he cocked an ear and sure enough, he could hear a faint splashing coming from a nearby stream. He pushed into the woods and followed the noise.

He only had to travel a short distance before the growth thinned out and he came to the stream. He paused at the edge of the trees to watch Straven bathe. As always, he was transfixed by the sight of the exquisite interplay between Straven's well-toned muscles as he dipped his head into the water of the stream, then tossed his head back, sending a cascade of water over his back. He then shook and shifted his legs, distributing the water everywhere, and dipped his head down to do it all again. Cryss felt a lump forming his throat and his knees begin to get weak as he watched the water pour over each perfect curve and make it shine in the twilight, the Unicorn's ivory-coloured skin rippling with each movement. Suddenly Cryss felt the need to patch things up with Straven a lot more acutely. His head swam as he stepped out of the woods into the stream.

As Cryss splashed up the stream, Straven froze and icily grated, "Hello -- monkey." Cryss winced at this and stopped moving as well. "Monkey" was what Straven had called him when they had first met. It was a term of contempt the other forest creatures used in reference to Humans. Straven hadn't called him that in the years since they had met and travelled together, during which time they had grown very close, so Cryss knew that Straven was extremely upset.

Cryss cast a silent prayer for wisdom and tact to the goddess, and said, gently, "Hello, Teacher!" This was what Straven had insisted he be called when he had agreed to take Cryss on as a student in Classical Magick. Cryss had grudgingly agreed, although he had deliberately called Straven by his first name every once in a while over the years to test the waters, and as they grew closer and closer Straven corrected him less and less frequently, and had almost stopped by now. Cryss figured that he had better put his best foot forward anyway.

It didn't work. Straven still stood stock still, refusing to even look at Cryss. That's okay, thought Cryss despite the knot of tension that had formed in his stomach, I know how to handle this. "I trust you didn't find any trace of Atoll. No Sentinels, no warbeasts, no Pebble Monsters?" said Straven, his voice frosty with sarcasm.

Cryss's face flushed hot with embarrassment and humiliation. Many years ago, when his Wanderer abilities were just starting to emerge, he had breathlessly told Straven about this barren world he was visiting in his dreams, a grey craggy landscape of soft stone where huge insects roamed. Cryss had burned with excitement when Straven had told him that this corresponded to no dimension or world he had ever heard of, and had become convinced that he had done what every Wanderer hopes to do in his lifetime: find a totally new world to explore. This made it all the more galling when they later discovered that he hadn't even been leaving his bed: his sleeping mind had been roaming over the gravel of the road near the clearing where they lived and the huge insects had been dust mites.

"No Teacher, none of those. No hazards to report," said Cryss innocently. For as he said this, he was edging closer to Straven, with the intuitive stealth that distinguished Wanderers.

Straven grunted in acknowledgement, then began washing again with a deliberateness that spoke volumes. Cryss crept closer, but knew that he needed to distract him further if he was to evade notice and do what he intended to do.

"Teacher? I want to apologize for my rude behaviour earlier. I was tired and shaky after today's ordeal, but that's no excuse for being unreasonable. You were perfectly right -- if we had journeyed till Last Light it would almost have killed us," said Cryss, now just a few feet away.

"Mmm-hmmm," grunted Straven, his ears flickering suspiciously but his head still turned away, refusing to look at Cryss. Good, thought Cryss. Just a little longer...

"I am very sorry I showed you such disrespect, and hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive my silliness and rudeness --" and now he reached out and started rubbing Straven right at the base of his horn, "-- please?"

Cryss almost giggled with delight as he felt the Unicorn's tension melt under his fingers. He stepped closer and began massaging Straven's neck, gently squeezing and stroking the taut muscles and ruffling the thick hair.

"Well..." began Straven in an unsuccessful attempt at a stern tone. He trailed off into a contented whinny. "Mmmmmmhhhh..."

Cryss smiled and stifled another giggle. So far, so good. He luxuriated over Straven's neck for a while then moved down to his shoulders, leaning forward to do so and "accidentally" rubbing his crotch against Straven's side. He started nibbling Straven's neck gently and nuzzling his head.

Straven leaned back against him, his warm body pressed against Cryss's. Cryss slid his hands up Straven's legs (causing his muscles to quiver delightfully) and pressed his body close. He leaned forward and kissed Straven, his tongue rubbing across Straven's thick lips as he caressed Straven's ears with cupped palms.

Straven gave another small whinny as he felt Cryss's caresses, and all semblance of resistance crumbled like a brick wall deprived of its bottom layer. He opened his teeth and gently probed Cryss's mouth with his tongue, and massaged Cryss's lips with his own.

Cryss kissed back, stroking Straven's head with both hands. He broke the kiss long enough to cast off his leather jerkin and pants, leaving himself naked and shivering in the stream. He remedied this quickly by kissing Straven again and pressing his body up against Straven's, his hard cock rubbing Straven's hot chest, still wet from his bathing.

Straven leaned forward slightly, kissing back fiercely, then broke the kiss and began snuffling down Cryss's chest. This time Cryss did giggle as the Unicorn's hairy muzzle brushed down his chest and snorted little gusts of air onto him. The muzzle reached his crotch, and Straven sniffed its musky odour deeply before taking Cryss's cock and balls into his mouth.

Cryss almost swooned as the vast mouth engulfed his genitals, and began slowly and gently sucking and chewing them over. He moaned and leaned forward, resting his head against Straven's neck and stroking his flowing grey mane.

Straven gently worked over Cryss's privates, then released them and stretched his neck out between Cryss's legs, thrusting them apart. He then turned his muzzle upward and extended his tongue, causing Cryss to come even closer to swooning as he was impaled anally on a hot wet tongue. Straven then began to gently buck his head, causing the tongue to slide in and out in a vertical tongue-fucking.

Cryss began gasping, "Ah... ah... ah... ah..." as the wet slab of tongue churned his insides and made his anus feel like a violin string. His cock was slapping Straven's face with each buck, and he began stroking it furiously.

His breath grew more and more ragged as the tongue continued its heavenly assault. Suddenly, he gasped like he'd been struck a fatal blow, and shot a wad of come all over Straven's neck and mane. Straven began bucking in short tosses of the head, causing his tongue to hump in short deep strokes. Each snap of the head brought another blast of semen out of Cryss's cock, until Cryss slid off Straven's face and landed unsteadily on his feet, his eyes glazed over.

Straven quickly laid his head against Cryss's chest to hold him up, and ran his tongue across the roof of his mouth, savouring Cryss's flavour. He waited patiently, licking the semen off his mane where he could reach it, until he felt some strength come back into Cryss's body, and then said, "I think my tail needs some work, Student..."

"Hmmm?" Cryss breathed, his eyes far away. Then he started and said, "Oh! Oh yes, right away, Teacher!" with a mock bow, and scurried around to the Unicorn's hindquarters.

In accordance with long-standing tradition, he started by pretending to look for tangles in Straven's tail, while he let his fingers brush Straven's puckered anus. He then dropped all pretence and began vigorously licking it and rubbing the Unicorn's broad flanks with unabashed enthusiasm.

Straven nickered joyously and moved his hind legs apart. This opened up his anus further, and Cryss wasted no time in leaning forward and burying his face up the quivering hole, probing deeper and deeper until half of his head was writhing around in there. It was Straven's turn to moan and grunt, as Cryss power-rimmed him and rubbed down his flanks. Cryss's hands reached down and began rubbing Straven's huge balls as he licked every inch of the Unicorns ass and breathed in his powerful odour. He began rhythmically pushing forward, each time penetrating a little deeper up Straven's ass and making him grunt in pleasure.

Cryss pulled his face out for a breath of air, and heard the rhythmic slapping of Straven's gargantuan cock slapping against his belly. "Aha!" said Cryss. "I think I hear the sound of no hands clapping!" Straven looked back with an equine grin and waggled his rear, causing the cock to whip downward then THWACK against his belly.

Cryss planted his tongue in Straven's hole one last time, then let it slip out as he dragged his tongue down from the asshole to Straven's balls, causing him to give little gasps and murmurs of pleasure and making his legs tremble. Cryss then took as much of the immense ballsac into his mouth as he could and began sucking it like a baby with a bottle. At the same time, he reached forward and began jacking Straven's cock with both hands.

Straven moaned and twitched his legs as the warmth poured over him. Cryss smiled and began lick the enormous equine penis up and down, all the while still jacking it with all his strength. He ignored the pangs of his sprained wrist as he lowered his mouth onto Straven's cockhead, sucking on it like a straw, still jacking away. He followed his hands with his mouth, making his mouth and throat take in more and more, till he was swallowing almost half of it with each stroke.

Straven was making little "erms" and "uuhs" and sweating like an iceblock in June. Suddenly he began to whicker and whinny, and stomp the ground with his forehooves. Cryss braced himself just in time as Straven's cock blasted his guts full of Unicorn seed. He swallowed it all down, and stroked Straven's cock to empty it. He then slowly spit the huge tool out, careful not to hurt himself by relaxing his throat too early. He stood up and walked around to Straven's front, and threw his arms around Straven's neck, nibbing on his ear.

"So?" he whispered into Straven's ear.

"Mmm...?" panted Straven. "So... what...?"

"So..." said Cryss sweetly, nibbling Straven's neck and rubbing his back. "Am I forgiven, Teacher, for my impiety?"

Straven sighed at Cryss's caresses. "Well, I guess so. Just don't let it happen again!"

Cryss smiles and ran a tongue down Straven's spine. "Of course. I would just hate to be punished like this again..."

Straven tensed for a second, but relaxed under Cryss's expert love. "You know, Cryss, whenever I get too angry at your, all I have to do is remember this and I calm down a bit."

Cryss looked up from his ministrations in sudden alarm. He moved around in front of Straven and looked him straight in the eye. "You do know that I love you, right? That I do this because I love you and not just to manipulate you?" His panic was evident.

Straven chuckled kindly and leaned over to nuzzle Cryss's neck. "Of course, my sweet lover. What I am saying is I have to remind myself some times how good you are for me. You keep me from just becoming a rigid shell with no soul inside. You keep my life interesting!"

Cryss looked at Straven, misty-eyed. "And you keep me from running off half-cocked all the time. You keep me alive!"

He hugged Straven tightly, and just held him, as the sun set in the west. Eventually, when the light was almost gone, they headed back to the camp, Cryss's Wanderer second sight leading them unerringly back to the camp. And there they sat together, and talked, till eventually they fell asleep, Cryss's head resting on Straven's flank.

written by mbertrand

WRITE STORIES join free

CATEGORIES sf-fantasy

Why Read? Audio Sex Stories!