by Sean Michael
"Oh! Oh, Violo!"
His brother moved faster, sending stars shooting through the sky, sparks along his spine, with every thrust. The music started then, pure and rich, the gift that was his to share, distilling his love and passion into melody.
"Yes, Violo, yes. You make us shine together." Faster and faster his brother moved, taking him as no other did.
The music crested as he dissolved, his seed rich and fertile on his belly -- a thousand muses sacrificed for his brother's pleasure. Turchino called out, jerking against him as he was filled with heat. He drank the laughter from his brother's lips, holding the heat tight within.
Turchino lay against him, hands moving over his skin, leaving trails like lightning behind. Violo hummed, purred, eyes heavy as he floated with his beautiful brother, cradled between sea and sky.
Chapter Seven
"Oh, Turchino!" exclaimed Liska, her eyes bright. "He is my favorite. Beside the two of you, of course," she added quickly, cheeks going red.
Marrone laughed and Verde grinned at her. "He is a favorite of ours as well, child. No offense was taken. Now if you’d mentioned us with Arancione..."
"Or cold Gialla."
Verde nodded and cuddled with his beloved twin, their believers like a warm blanket around them, keeping them warm in the sleepy winter. "Turchino’s blessed children are some of the most beautiful creatures in the sea, are they not beloved?"
Marrone nodded. "Indeed."
***
Turchino loved his waters. The superior and anterior oceans, the lakes, the rivers, all of it.
He would rush through them, sliding through the water as if he were made of the very water itself.
He danced among the seaweed and played with the fish, leaving one dark brown trout silver and another all the colors of the gods themselves.
Such fun!
The oceans called to him, their vastness his to command.
He danced through the waves, twisting and twirling until a happy cry caught his attention. A shape hurtled up through the water, huge tail propelling the merman into his arms.
Our Lord! Our Lord! So fine! Such beauty! We missed you, we did! All of us. Our beautiful Lord Turchino! The pleasure and joy warmed the water, the blue-green eyes shining with love.
He wrapped his hands around the merman's waist, letting the great tail wrap around his legs. Oh, so pretty! And all for him.
He pressed close, letting the muscled, male form slide against him. And who are you?
We are Tempest's son and Laughter's mate and your own Brightshell. The long hair mingled with his own, the children of the sea open in their pleasure and unquestioningly devoted to him alone. One smooth cheek stroked against his, the strong tail rippling around his legs in invitation.
My very own Brightshell. He brought their lips together, spreading his legs in acceptance of the merman's invitation.
Salty and warm, the merman tasted of life and pleasure. Hands caressed his muscles, his back, joy and happy arousal pouring into him. He touched in return, hands exploring the wide muscles, petting the rippling belly.
Deeper and deeper they sank into the ocean.
The light faded, the water cool and heavy. Webbed fingers wrapped around his phallus, exploring, touching, stroking. So thick. So warm. Our Lord, so lovely.
Oh, they worshipped him so well. It was no wonder the water always brought him such joy. He found the merman's own phallus, tucked within his scales, and pulled it out, feeling its weight and heat in his hand.
Brightshell's cry echoed through the waves, tail caressing his legs, massaging and twisting, twining. His shaft was held and stroked, fingers fluttering about his skin. He deepened the kiss, taking the sweet mouth with his own as he pushed into Brightshell's touch. He offered as much pleasure as he received, freely stroking the merman's phallus.
As they grew close, they began to spin, spiral up and up, faster and faster, bodies and water working together in passion, cresting at the surface in a bright spray. He clung to the merman as they fell back into the sea, letting the pleasure sate him, sweet echoes of completion in his merman's touch.
They swam together, lazy and sated, the aqua-marine eyes of his Brightshell still and at peace. Such pleasure. Such happiness. Would you come and sing and feast in the great hall? We know our Lord must swim far, but we wish him to know how much he is welcome and loved.
He had no desire to refuse such an offer. I will. I have been too long away from my favorites.
Those eyes shone and the water itself warmed with pleasure. Such wondrous news! We will sing and play and dance beneath the waters, for our Lord is with us and he smiles.
The muscled tail twined around his legs again then disappeared, Brightshell darting down to lap at his sex, eyes dancing as he danced playfully in the waves.
His phallus rose to greet the touch and he grinned. Oh yes, I think more pleasure is to be had before we join your brothers and sisters.
The long hair wrapped around him, even as a hot touch of tongue warmed him. Sure and free -- his sea-children could taste the truth of pleasure on the water, and so were assured of their place in his heart, in his arms.
He moaned, letting Brightshell hear his pleasure. Spreading his arms and legs wide, he floated, held within the water and the merman's grasp. Heat and joy blossomed in his center, pushed through his limbs by thousands of tiny bubbles bouncing along his skin.
He laughed even as he moaned again, such heat and suction gathering around his phallus.
Your laughter... Oh, our Lord! It is sunshine! He was taken in deep, strong fingers exploring his legs. He granted Brightshell more of his pleasure, letting it warm his merman as he was worshiped.
They rolled slowly, the water another welcome caress as the suction of that sweet mouth surrounded him. He was pulled deeper and deeper into pleasure, Brightshell's mouth leading the way. The soft thrum of pleasure in his mind became waves, the taste and touch of him drawing Brightshell into a maelstrom of pleasure. Together they were drawn into it, swirling and twisting, the pleasure ever expanding.
As he came, he drew Brightshell up to him, holding the merman close, safe, as the pleasure became uncontrolled.
They drifted, Brightshell's soft adoration a hymn in perfect harmony with the waves.
It had been far too long since he had graced these gentle beings with his presence. He would not be so long away the next time.
***
"Oh!" exclaimed Mikah. "How beautiful. And how different than the dragons of Lord Arancione."
"Oh, yes, each of our special children are different."
"Will you tell another tale of the dragons? Please?" begged Mikah, the boy so lovely, wriggling quite eagerly against one of his brothers.
Verde thought that they could not possibly deny the sweet pleas.
***
Arancione sat gloomily upon his throne, watching the fire in his hearth burn dully.
He'd been moping since Violo had left. His brother was right -- humans held no appeal to him, they were too weak for him. He hadn't even avenged the temple Turchino had hit with lightning. Wasn't planning to either. Let them all suffer, the miserable little beasts.
He was done with them. He was a god.
Second only to his mother and father and even then...well, they were always so busy fighting and making up and fighting again.
Even among his family there were few who deserved his attention. He was all alone in the universe.
A soft touch brushed his calf, almost accidental, and he looked down into glowing bronze eyes, staring up at him with perfect adoration. Bright Lord.
A young dragon, scales still bright, not yet burnished with age, heeding the call to greet him, adore him, love him, as they all did.
How could he have forgotten his dear children?
The dragons loved him as no other, not even his brothers and sisters, could.
He stroked the long snout, scales warm beneath his fingers. Sweet child. Have you come to shine for me?
A rich purr sounded, that warm face nuzzling his hand. Yes, beloved Lord. I waited and waited until it was my time. I have dreamed of your smile.
And smile he did. How could he deny such beauty, such devotion? He could not. He would not. And what do they call you, bright child?
Grassik, Bright Lord. I am your Grassik, child of Greth and Hissik. Oh, those eyes shone bright, so happy, so warm.
Stand, Grassik, and spread your wings. Show me your glory that I might find my joy in you. A soft rush of heated pleasure suffused him, the dragon offering all emotions to him as was his due. The long, lanky body uncurled, tail trembling, as glittering wings spread wide, the action buffeting him with heat.
He basked in it: in the heat and adoration and love, basked in the joy his dear child offered freely and without reservation. He circled the dragon, touching scales and claws, breathing over the wings, caressing the long tail. Perfect -- a terrible beauty -- just as you should be.
As you have created us, Bright Lord. Liquid gold tears slid down those fine cheeks. Your hands... I would fly at your word, your touch, nothing is so sweet.
Oh, yes, Grassik, let us fly together!
He opened the roof to them, turning himself into a dragon, only slightly finer than the bright one who had come to honor him and flew up, leading the way, wings beating strongly. Grassik followed, heat and passion and the purest love pouring into the sky like flames, tail sparking as they raced and dove, circled and roared.
When they had traveled from one end of the world to the other and back again, he guided their flight once again toward his hearth, the fire within burning bright and warm.
His dragon's laughter chuffed through the room, rough and husky and pure happiness, Grassik's muzzle touching his feet, his knees, his stomach, his heart. Bright Lord. I am yours, in all things, in all ways.
He reached out to touch the sweet muzzle. Let us make pleasure together, Grassik. There is none who can serve me as my dragons can.
Yes, Bright Lord. Please. He felt the strain and focus as the young one put himself into the unfamiliar human form, eyes glowing and blinking at him. "Did I do it? Is this the way?"
He growled for Grassik, the sound low and happy. "Very much the way, my Dragon."
His hands slid over the finely formed chest, skin warm and bronzed.
"Oh! Oh... My Lord..." So sensitive, so new -- in this form the vulnerable heart beat furiously, phallus filling, sensations burning between them.
"Yes..." He thought away his robe and moved close to the dragon-man, letting Grassik feel his heat, letting their phalluses touch, slide together.
So delicious, these first gasps, the adoration in those eyes as they first learned the depths of true pleasure. "Might I touch you, Bright Lord? Is that allowed?"
"Not only allowed, my child, but encouraged."
Hands as hot as flames ran up his belly, Grassik's gasp sweet as his skin was adored, his body held by a strength mortals could not begin to understand.
"Such power and beauty and strength -- forged together by my fire. Truly you are a creature worthy of your god."
"There is nothing without your fire, Bright Lord. Nothing." The dragon leaned forward, mouth open and hot upon his shoulder. "Oh..."
He purred as the hot mouth slid over his skin, leaving branded marks behind. He didn't heal them, letting his faithful dragon-man mark him. The design the fiery tongue left behind told histories upon his skin, eons of hymns sung in the great halls to his glory.
Moaning, growling, he slid his fingers over the dragon-man's nipples, tickled fingertips along the ridged belly, teased the wet-tipped phallus. Soft cries slid over his skin, Grassik beginning to tremble, to gasp. He slid his arms around the strong body, supporting this young dragon as he experienced such pleasures for the first time.
"My Lord... Such heat..." The strong body moved against him, unsure and careful, but so needy.
He slid a tendril of heat around Grassik's phallus, sliding it around and around the throbbing flesh.
Golden eyes widened, fastening to him, trusting him without question, without hesitation. He smiled and brought their lips together, pushing his tongue into Grassik's lips as he slid another tendril of heat into the opening behind the ponderous balls.
The low, familiar roar of a dragon's pleasure pushed into his lips, nourishing him, filling him.
He purred. "Yes. Oh, yes. It feels good, does it not?"
"Yes. Yes. Oh, so much brighter than just good." Shock and pleasure and love poured over him, his Grassik awash in sensation.
He continued to stimulate Grassik, giving the dragon his best. The tension and heat within the dragon peaked, fiery seed pouring forth, the creature fighting desperately to hold its form.
"Let go, Grassik, let your pleasure take the form it will."
He could feel the tension ease suddenly and he was surrounded by a dragon once more, long body curled around him, wings fluttering. He purred. Such heat and strength. Any mere mortal would have been burned into cinders by such an embrace, but not he -- no, he thrived in the fire of his dragons.
So much stronger now, after his touch, his blessing -- his dragon glowed with energy, with heat.
He sank against the beast, letting that deep, full consciousness, the strong emotions encompass him. With a cry that set volcanoes spewing hot ash into the sky, he came, marking this dragon as special, even among his special children.
The purrs of the dragon proved that the honor was noted, respected for the act it was. Then, in a motion as old as time, his Grassik lifted one wing for him, offering him the pillow of that huge, vulnerable heart.
He rested against his dragon, finding peace. Next time he would not be so quick to assume himself alone in the universe, for as long as his dragons breathed fire, he was not.
***
Mikah cried out, as did the one he rubbed against, the scent of their pleasure making Verde smile. "Look, beloved, our children revel our tales."
"Your voice lends them a beauty," murmured his dear brother.
Verde laughed. "And yours lends them passion."
He kissed Marrone, fingers moving, sliding up to caress the little nubs that would turn to antlers at a thought from him or his brother. His passion was interrupted, though, their followers, their children, not so timid as they had once been.
"And what of your own special ones? Will you tell tales of us one day?" Liska asked.
"Oh, perhaps, but our special ones are actually the centaurs." Verde grinned and rubbed those antlers again. The centaurs, a marriage combining his own attributes with Marrone’s.
"Yes." Marrone’s voice rumbled. "If my sweet brother does not ride with me, then it is only right he has a centaur to carry him."
***
They ran with the centaurs. His Marrone's hooves thundering loudly, his own hands holding tight to the great rack of antlers that grew from his Beloved's head. Their children ran like the wind, happy and excited to have their Lords in their midst.
Marrone was solid beneath him, between his thighs, keeping him in a state of need and arousal. Marrone called and tossed his head, pleasure and ferocious happiness pouring from him. To run was one of his greatest passions, the pulse of the world beating in that eternal heart.
He could feel their children's joy, could feel them calling to him.
He leaned forward to kiss the back of Marrone's neck. "I will ride with them, my own."
With that he leapt from his brother's back to that of the nearest centaur. The one so chosen called out with pleasure, muscles working beneath him. His hands grabbed strong shoulders, looking over to admire Marrone as they ran.
His beloved was beautiful, strong and sleek, muscles working hard as they ran. His need increased, his phallus rubbing against the hard muscles that worked between his thighs.
The centaur beneath him moaned, muscles rippling with need and pride, pelt stroking him again and again.
Oh, Beloved, he feels so good. He rolled as he rode, increas
ing the sensation to his phallus.
They are a strong and pure heat, Beloved. You bless him with your desire. Marrone's eyes were hot, flashing.
Leaning forward, he wrapped his arms around the centaur's waist, rubbing his chest, his belly and his phallus against the great beast. Their joy poured, one into another, Marrone sharing the flavor of need through the herd, the run slowing, becoming sensual, pure desire.
The other centaurs came near, rubbing against his legs and sides. He became lost in them, in the open way they shared their pleasure. He became sensation.
Marrone's words and moans filled his mind, driving him even farther, that constant touch sparking his passion like none other.
Brother! He reached out with his mind, his body busy, stimulated, sent careening along pleasure's path.
Marrone's purr vibrated along his nerves, the ghost flavor of his twin's seed teasing his tongue. All around him were the sounds and smells of rutting, the rubbing against him becoming more feverish. He heard Marrone's roar of pleasure, starting a series of cries that flooded the herd.
He held on until the last one sounded, pulling their pleasure into himself. His own cry was the loudest of all of them, heat splashing from him onto the back of the beast he rode.
The fine pelt darkened where his seed spread, marking this child as blessed, as favored. As ridden.
He stroked the fine abdomen of his mount, thanking the centaur for his ride. Then he reached out for his beloved twin.
Marrone's horns slid into his hands, swinging him onto his place. "We ride, Beloved?"
"We ride!"
He settled into place, legs gripping his brother's sides firmly, laughing into the wind as they picked up speed, leaving the herd behind.
***
"So beautiful!" Liska gazed upon Verde and Marrone, eyes glazed. "I could almost see it as you told the tale."
"Such is the magic of Marrone’s stories." Verde smiled at his brother, ready now to recreated a portion of that tale, to spend his pleasure upon his brother’s muscled back.
"I want to hear another merman story!"
Verde looked over at Melin, smiling. He was weak, he could not deny these dear ones.