Peach Parlay Afterparty, part 4: Second Date - RPlog

Participants

• Bleu (male herm)
• Richard (male herm)

With mentions but not appearances of

• Anbessa
• Luna
• Magnus
• Aava
• Miranai
• Kar-dragon

And the misuse of Fenris's property

Date

Late November-early December 2019

Set a few weeks after Peach Parlay Afterparty, part 3: The After-afterparty - RPlog

Log

It's been a few weeks since that first drunken tryst that Richard had with a certain satyr. Everything except his memory tells him that it was some of the best fun he's had in months. That's not to say that he remembers it being a *bad* time. Rather, he doesn't remember a damn thing from after that second glass of whiskey. However, it left an imprint somewhere deep in his brain. A night with Bleu = a good time. They met up in the Zephyr lobby on this fine afternoon, and the bleating bachelor suggested a place of the Asian persuasion. Entering through the Teanuki Cafe's front doors to a sight of straw mats and robed servers, Richard asks, "Uh...this is the place, right? I just remembered that there's another one on the other side of town..."

Bleu smirks, leaning on Richard's arm. "Yes. Well, this one I think is the lesser known location. I've only been here a few times, myself. C'mon! Let's get some green tea, or maybe oolong... And then look for the hot springs. That's one of the main draws, after all!" The satyr leans over and gives Richard a peck on the cheek, as a Tanuki server makes their presence known from the direction of the kitchen.

Richard blushes hard at the caprine casanova's kiss on his mutated but mostly human cheek. "Bleu!" He whispers, "There are people here!" His eyes dart around, searching for a stronger excuse and definitely not lingering for a moment on one of the servers' stupendous scrotums, visible even through their exotic uniforms. Salvation makes itself evident as a sign from the heavens. Scratch that, as a literal sign hanging from one of the bright red archways. 'No sex or violence.' "We're their guests, for goodness sake!" He admonishes, halfheartedly, hooking a thumb towards the sign. Meanwhile, a tanuki has approached the odd couple.

"Good evening, and welcome to the Teanuki mountainside cafe. How can I help you?" They ask.

"Table for two, please," Richard says, "And those rules up there, you enforce them, right?"

The racoon-like restaurateur responds, "The second one is non-negotiable. The first one," their hand-paw spreads out and makes an back-and-forth balancing motion as they shrug, "It's before the dinner rush. Just take it to the onsen cave out back if you're going to make a mess. Your table is right this way."

So much for that. Richard pulls out the collar of his silken Promethean under-armor while a team of waiters set up a lap-height table and a pair of cushions.

Bleu grins as he makes his friend visibly redden and uncomfortable. "Don't *worry*, Babe... I can behave." He certainly can. "C'mon, let's sit, drink our tea, then we can go to the cave, alright?" He grips Richard's hand, and tugs him over to the table that is being set up. "I think this place may serve sushi, too, but don't quote me on that..." The satyr sits on his cushion, and grins. "Did I tell you before, Rich, that I find your modesty cute?"

Richard is glad that he's sticking to his hybrid humanoid form instead of that Serene Elf mutation he had last time. Chances are that he's going to be blushing from ear to ear before the evening's end. "I could go for an early dinner if they have it," he says, controlling his breathing a bit better at Bleu's reassurance. He seats himself cross-legged at one side of the table. Ceramic cups and saucers have already been placed for the pair, anticipating an order of some sort of soft drink. "There's a time and a place for that sort of thing. That's all." He claims. Nobody's buying it, not even Richard himself. "And there ought to be a particular *person* for it too, in my opinion." That rang a little bit truer.

A pair of menus are set out on the table, waiting for selections to be made.

Bleu picks up his menu, then looks up at the Tanuki. "Make mine Oolong, please." Then he peruses the menu. "Particular person, you say? Why Richard... Is that a proposal? On the second date?" He smirks, behind the menu so that the hybrid can't see. "Ah, yes, looks like they do serve sushi. I hear their wasabi is quite good..."

Richard starts leafing through his menu as well. "You said we had 'mind blowing' sex while I was blackout drunk that first time," he candidly claims. "Side note, I'd like the details on exactly what happened some time. Right now, though..."

Oh god, this is a big decision. Stall for time. Stall for time!

He folds his menu and offers it back to the waiter's waiting paws. "I'll have what he's having," he says to the server, "and a California roll with soy sauce and wasabi on the side." He leans toward the waiter. "Slice the roll, please. He'd like nothing more than to see me put anything that's that shape into my mouth." The waiter nods in understanding and begins to depart with at least one menu in hand. Richard returns his attention to the satyr who he's suitoring to.

You know what? Fuck it.

"Right now, I feel driven to make this a thing," he states. His voice didn't even waver that much! Nicely done. Oh. Oh, there are those creeping doubts again. Was beginning to wonder if they'd show up. "I don't know if I want this to be an 'I now pronounce you man and person of indefinite shape. You may kiss the whatever they currently are' thing," he stammers, "but hell yes. I'd love to watch movies and chill with you. I mean, you're one of the biggest swingers around town, right? I'm not going to ask you to give that up just for me."

Bleu makes the same order, though his roll remains uncut. Passing his menu to the tanuki, his former smirk has been replaced with a blushing grin. He slides his right hand across the table, to give Richard's hand a squeeze. "You'd really want to make it official? Is that why you asked me where I wanted to go the most tonight?" He really is blushing now. "Aw, Rich... You're so romantic! So I think you can guess my response..."

Richard shuffles onto his knees. "No, it's... I care what you think. I-I'm like this with everyone, I swear. I asked one of Miranai's slutty maid daughters for permission, for fuck's sake. She had her ass up in the air and I still-" he stutters to a stop.

That's skirting dangerously close to a rejection, Richie. What are you doing? You said yes. You *feel* like it should be yes. Pull it back.Come on, say something romantic!

He sighs, looks down, and picks up Bleu's hand with both of his own."It might be way too early in the relationship. I might not be 'the one,' but..."

...But what? Spit it out!

"I can't figure out how to say it," he deadpans, drained by his internal not-conflict. He drops Bleu's hand back to the table. Before he truly comprehends what he's doing, his other hand is around the back of Bleu's head and pulling the mythical man closer as he leans across the tiny table to meet him, his other hand still clasped by Bleu's on the tabletop, supporting their weight. Two pairs of lips meet.

A reasonable alternative to saying it. Points for creativity.

Bleu closes his eyes once their lips meet. In point of fact, he finds Richard's awkwardness to be endearing. So he lets his attraction show, with the kiss, and a squeeze to Richard's hand. An understanding. 'I love you.' The satyr has a lot to say, but he's now preoccupied with kissing this handsome man that he's fallen for.

Some of the tanuki staff blush beneath their fur. Some are quietly clapping or catcalling to the couple. One of the women (meaning she has breasts, although she’s still quite obviously a tanuki) whips out a scrapbook and retreats into the kitchen, scribbling frantically as she mutters something about 'shipping charts.' Her possibly cargo-related chattering serves as a prelude to an actual delivery. Richard had stopped moaning into the kiss moments ago. His eyes shot open, and he saw the approach of their server. Gently as he can manage, he breaks the oral embrace. "W-we ought to eat, first."

Something has shell-shocked the shapeshifter. What could it be?

Bleu is left feeling a little breathless, and he nods. "Yes, eat... But I want to argue that it is not too early in the relationship if we both want it." He's going to keep on topic, even while they eat. "If that kiss is any indication, then it's painfully obvious that we both want the same thing..."

Richard, staring into the middle distance, whispers "...something between us, anyway..." He shakes his head, and busies himself using chopsticks to spread tiny clumps of wasabi over his sliced sashimi. "Oh, dammit. This is going to sound so stupid," he groans, not taking his eyes off of the food. he pours a few drops of soy sauce into a tiny dipping dish. "I realized something right in the middle of that kiss."

Bleu bites into his spring roll. "Yeah? What's that? You want to shag me all night? You wanna be my hubby? You want matching tats on our shoulders?" He smirks a bit, likely making Richard squirm. "I mean, after tonight, it's an official thing, right? After that...kiss?"

Richard does squirm a bit at the teasing. "We already went over that. It's official, but not officially official. You know what I mean," he scoffs, "and you already have, like, two tattoos on you." He scarfs down a single slice of the Japanese rolled rice, and tries not to wince at the horseradish spice. That *is* good wasabi! He picks up his tea cup to wash down the flavor, but doesn't bring it to his lips yet. "Are you sure you want to hear this? It's so monumentally stupid," he groans again. It's almost like it's so dumb that he can't bear not to share it.

Bleu leans forward, across the table. "What if *I* call it officially official? Also, I have three tattoos. You forgot the one on my penis, didn't you?" He giggles, then leans back on his cushion, calmly sipping his tea. "Anyway, you have to tell me. Mates don't keep secrets from each other, not even stupid ones. So tell me, please..."

"I'm fine with that, as long as it's not *so* official that I have to snub Joy," Richard says, brushing away the thought. "She's had eyes for me for months now, but I only ever seem to see her on Taco Tuesdays. Little pega-fox hybrid. Firecracker's daughter, if you don't recognize the name. And my eyes were shut at the time, so that tat's news to me." He decides against questioning whether Bleu means 'mates' in the Australian sense or in the conventional sense so he can finally release his ridiculous revelation upon the world. "Anyway, I didn't realize I was doing it at the time. That confession was lifted almost word for word from a Daft Punk song." He swigs his cup of oolong like it's the first thing he's had to drink in days, then sets the cup down defeatedly. "Fucking Magnus," he laughs in resignation, "I'm gonna blame him for that."

"Snub Joy?" Bleu scoffs. "My dear, have you seen how many lovers I have? This isn't an exclusive club..." He laughs, picks up a piece of sashimi, and plops it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "Daft Punk, huh? Good choice. You have very good taste, my love." He picks up his cup, takes a long sip, then sets it down again. "Blame Mag for what? Getting a new mate that loves and adores you?"

Richard fills another cup of tea, still chuckling to himself about the stupidity of his epiphany. "Blame him and *his* good taste in music for worming its way into me pouring my heart out to you. Gotta be subliminal messaging or something." He deftly plucks another piece of his meal from the plate using his chopsticks. A loud sigh escapes him, signaling the end of his giggling. On to more serious matters. "Nevermind. You're more than worth forgiving him for that. And yes, I have. Just wanted to hear you say you were fine with it. Would've felt inconsiderate otherwise."

Bleu sets his chopsticks down, and looks across at Richard. He's serious, too. "Well, then, I can say it now. You're wonderful, and I love you. And yes, when I say mates, I don't mean in the friend sense." He smiles. "And yes, Mag has a funny way of being a matchmaker, eh?"

Richard pops a piece of rolled rice and fish into his mouth. Then another. He swallows. "Love you too," he replies, licking a stray grain of rice from his lips, then puckering their moistened surface towards the satyr to blow a kiss. "Top 500," he adds, raising the teacup to his mouth for a sip. After slaking his thirst once more, he comments, "I'll throw a fit if Magnus doesn't have the keys to the city yet. It seems like he's always organizing *something* to get us all out and meeting each other."

Bleu blushes at Richard's words. His attraction to this man knows no bounds. "Hah, you're right. Though I wouldn't have quite pegged that I'd wind up your pretty boi waifu." The satyr smirks, and finishes off his spring roll. "I had a thought at first that you were the strong, brooding type. The Loner. I'm glad I was mistaken. Anyway..." He pops another piece of sushi in his mouth. "After we're done, we're going to the Cave, right?"

Richard eats the second-to-last piece of seaweed-rolled savory goodness. "Hell, I went out there thinking 'what would I least mind getting stuck as if we're stranded outside the bubble. Versatile, sort of normal, and comes with its own bow and arrows? Serene Elf it is,'" he muses. "Wasn't going for the 'loner' vibe so much as being pragmatic. I mean, yeah, I'm out on my own a lot but that's not a social choice so much as a part of my job." He scoops up the final fragment of fishy food, continuing, "If you want a loner, though, I can be that. Spent more hours than I'm proud of talking to myself in the mirror back in the human enclave." With a gulp, he finally clears his plate. "They told me I could be anything when I grew up. Now I am anything."

Over by the sushi bar, a grumpy old tanuki clears his throat. He nudges a potted bamboo plant with his foot, which molds itself into the shape of yet another tanuki.

"Except inanimate objects, right. I'll take the check for both of us, please." Richard amends. "That reminds me, did Fenris end up wearing a lampshade that night? He was already partway to being a decorative lamp..."

Bleu drains his teacup, and gobbles up his final piece of fish. Pushing his empty plate back, he grins at Richard. "You make an incredibly sexy serene elf, too... But, again, I'm quite biased toward humans and humanoids. Hell, I'm half human myself." He looks over at the Tanuki, then laughs. "Nah, he paused at decorative vase, I'm afraid, but he earned brownie points from me for bearing a motif of satyrs like me..."

The waiter from earlier approaches, having dealt with a few customers who have just started to trickle in with the ending of the day. Between the server's hands, they have the bill in the form of a nanite-formed hologram. Richard transfers some freecred to it, plus a decent gratuity. "It is one of my favorite forms. Comes with a wardrobe for every occasion, too." He drains his own cup, then resumes speaking, "Oh! Remind me to show you what I wore to Mags' Haloween Party later." he stands up, offering his hand to the still-seated satyr. "We were going to go to the cave. There's a gazebo on the way there. We could stop and watch the sunset, or go straight to the hot springs."

Bleu grips Richard's hand, and smiles, leaning against the hybrid once standing on his own two hooves again. "I think watching the sunset with you would be the most romantic thing, ever... Lead me away, dear Knight." He leans against Richard's side, giddy as a schoolgirl.

"The only dragon I recall slaying is that lady who lives near the path to New Dawn," Richard quips, "But if you insist..." The side Bleu is leaning on rapidly grows rigid, bulging with sourceless bulk that only nanites could muster. Richard puts a metallic (?!) thumb through a loop on his Promethean armor. In a single, smooth motion, he withdraws a strap and the upper portion of his attire falls away to reveal... another suit of armor underneath. Polished silver plates shift and settle over an organic green undersuit of living leaves.

Similarly, he whips off his belt. Below the waist, greaves and greenery also form. He kneels, gathering the garments in the crook of his elbow. Then, (ab)using his form's height advantage of nearly two feet on the twinky goat-man, he grunts, grabbing Bleu in his gauntlets for a gallant bridal carry. The suit of literal shining armor feels warm, as if it was out in the sun on a pleasant day. In reality, it's at Richard's body temperature. "I hope you memorized where that fastener is," he teases, tromping his way across the oriental garden towards the gazebo.

Bleu's eyes go wide at his mate's sudden change in appearance. "My oh my! You just know how to be roman-ohhh!" He bleats giddily when Richard hoists him up into the bridal carry. Even more romantic. Where has this knight in shining armor been all his life? "Seriously, Rich... You're amazingly romantic..." He sighs happily, as they clomp over to the gazebo.

Steel-shod footfalls upon stepping stones make the couple's journey across the garden hard to ignore. No doubt there's a tanuki or two tucked in with the tiger lilies. The orange of lily petals and yellow of sunflowers gleam off of Richard's spotless breastplate, joined by the refractions of the sun setting over the Pacific ocean far in the distance. Nearer is the city of Fairhaven itself, landmarks such as Zephyr tower, Silver Fangs Radio, and the Red Court jut above the horizon. Look closely, and you may see mutant and machine alike flitting through the air between them like the pulsing lifeblood of the city.

"Please. You make it easy for me," Richard scoffs at the man in his arms, "I'd wager your alcohol tolerance comes at the expense of being *just* a bit buzzed all the time."

Bleu has to give some thought to that assertion for several moments. "You know... You might have a point. I probably *am* perpetually buzzed. Whatevs, it's awesome." He giggles, looking off to the west, admiring the view. "My, look at that sight... Breathtaking, eh?"

Richard nods along to Bleu's assertion. "It sure sounds like it'd be fun." He follows the easy flirt's eyes towards the city. True to his claim, it takes Richard's breath away. Thankfully we've established that he doesn't actually need it. He stops in his tracks, the momentum of his armor and passenger keeping him going a step further than he intended. He'd question this cafe's business model if they're not selling postcards of this view. "...Damn," he finally manages to say, "which of your gods do we thank for this?"

By now, they're nearly halfway across the garden, at the T intersection where they could either continue towards the steamy caves, stop by the garden's mountainside railing, or detour to the gazebo as they originally intended.

Bleu relaxes his head against Richard's breastplate. "Well, if we're going Greco-Roman, possibly Fauna, the goddess of nature..." He chuckles. "You're one of the first people who doesn't seem to just humor me in my unconventional beliefs... I appreciate that."

Richard cranes his head down to plant a kiss on Bleu's forehead. "I care what you think," he reassures, "and besides, Artemis has a temple just uphill from the cafe. Who am I to question any of it when there's a slice of divinity right here, dear?" Contented sighing escapes him as he drinks in the vista. "This is too perfect," he wistfully announces. His motion resumes, the loping gait of this champion of nothing in particular gently rocking the blessed gift he's carrying. "We're going to the gazebo. I want to kiss you until you drag me away to those hot springs."

Bleu sighs at the kiss. This is heavenly. "Mmm, you make a good point... Still..." He looks up at Richard. "It is, isn't it? And this has been the perfect day, no less." His little tail is flitting quite excitedly by now. "And I'll quite happily kiss you for as long as you want."

The boards of the bridge to the gazebo bear no protest to the crossing of both the armored Adonis (cool your jets, Artemis, I didn't mean it literally) and his charge, a testament to the fine Japanese-style carpentry that composes the cafe. Trickling water and the occasional splash of an excited koi are the only other sounds. They are alone here, save for a conspicuously placed statue of a tanuki man. He sits in a meditating posture, his burgeoning belly and ballsack beneath it hanging over his legs. He has his eyes closed, and a smile on his snout speaks to wisdom unbound by worry.

Richard kneels, setting Bleu back upon his hooves. At his full height, Bleu is only a couple of heads taller than the man who carried him. As Richard rises from his knees, however, his height begins to align more with his partner's. They stand nearly eye to eye. You'd need a bubble level to tell which one of them is taller, now. "Kiss me."

Bleu absolutely doesn't have to be asked twice. The satyr throws his arms around this man whom he's fallen passionately in love with, practically melting against Richard's body, and their lips meet. It's practically electric. And the serene surroundings do much to cultivate Bleu's feelings for his handsome knight. They'll kiss, all the while watched knowingly by that statue, as if it's in on some great cosmic plan to draw the two lovers together…

And who knows? Maybe it is. One of them claims to have met a god in the flesh. Richard wishes he could press himself against his lover, to feel that heavenly body, slim and boyish, but undoubtedly a man. It takes little more effort for Richard to will away the protective vestments of this mutation than it does to drop the Promethean armor in the crook of his elbow. The pair of them embrace bodily, wordlessly speaking their desire to each other with dancing tongues. Bleu would feel the only thing between him and Richard's flawless, hairless flesh now is a simple loincloth.

Once he feels that hard outer shell melt away, Bleu presses as close as possible, arms fully encircling the handsome, smooth, flawless man. Naught but a loincloth between them. What had started as a teasing flirtation followed by a drunken one-night-stand was blossoming into something far more, and the satyr honestly couldn't be happier in this moment. Time almost seems to stop, as cliched as that is, but who's complaining? Richard can certainly feel Bleu's erection, which he couldn't less about hiding.

Richard leans in to his lover, although he presses his weight forwards to keep their hips apart. It's a bit of an awkward A-frame arrangement, but it sends a message. His wandering hands, one of them running up into the half-animalistic hairs on Bleu's chest, pausing with a single finger upon the satyr's sternum. Patience, dear. That's not to say Richard isn't feeling frisky himself. His mind forms a devious idea. No, *several* devious ideas to accompany his body's just-beginning reaction to drinking in the feel, the smell, the sound of being so near to someone so close. Let's play roulette.

The lips on Bleu's own begin to feel dry. Chapped. Like they belong to someone who's been out in the wintry forest for days. That roughness spreads into a tickling upon Bleu's upper lip, unmistakably the fuzz of closely-clustered hairs, though his partner's nose still feels hairless and human as it brushes against his own. Slightly different in shape, but still human. Richard's moaning deepens into a rugged growl, and the taste of his tongue has a hint of earthy sweetness... maple syrup, perhaps? That taste and roughness are beginning to fade, however, and something else is taking their place.

Richard still holds him close, his other hand snaked under Bleu's arm and behind his head. He *could* stop Richard here, but what's the next one going to be?

Bleu knows better than to rush it, despite his growing lust and arousal. Waiting is sweeter. He keeps his eyes closed, sensing that his mate wants this change to be a surprise. He won't stop Richard. No, he'll kiss the changing man, until the latter gives him a sign that it's okay to look…

Richard's kiss morphs fluidly into another, his lips regaining some of their moisture as they thin. His voice rises but remains masculine, gaining a faint breathiness to its tone. Bleu's tongue begins to overpower his lover's with ease, though it darts around his just as easily as it too loses girth, tickling the inside of the goat-man's gullet in flicking strokes. On the periphery, Bleu can feel the edges of his tongue brush against expanding canine teeth. They lengthen almost to the point of completely overlapping their counterparts on Richard's lower jaw, but taper to pencil-tip points. As their formation finishes, a hint of sourness and salt fills their mouths. Even that only lasts for a split second as the changes continue.

Richard continues to hold Bleu's lips against his own, cradling his lover with a hand at the back of his head, where the slope of the skull meets the muscle of the neck.

Okay, now his curiousity's getting the better of him. Those sharpened canines are too unusual to ignore. Bleu opens his eyes, to see what shape his lover has taken…

Richard is... outwardly human and slightly effeminate. Nothing has changed from the neck downward. Noticing a break in the rhythym of the kiss, he pulls away. His form settles as he stops his shifting for now. Until he opens his mouth, the most uncanny features about him are the vertical slit pupils of his eyes. "Ssampler platter'ss not done yet, dearest," he lisps, a forked tongue flashing over his teeth. It remains out and wiggles for a scant moment as he inhales. "Unlesss you've already picked your dessert." If no protest is given, he'll move in and resume the lip-locked tongue tango.

Bleu finds the change to be quite attractive, but by this point his attraction to Richard is beyond words. He smiles, and nods. "We'll get to dessert eventually," he replies, quite happy with savoring over the rest of the meal first. No protest comes from the satyr at all as the pair's lips meet once again.

Richard threads that thin tongue between Bleu's lips and resumes exactly where it left off. His tongue swells back to more normal proportions as it twirls alongside Bleu's own. He takes a sharp breath through his nose and moans once more, luxuriating in the feel of the change nearly as much as his lover's embrace. Yet again, Bleu feels the feather-light touch of facial hair. This time, it's thinner than it had been, both in depth and area covered, forming naught but a narrow strip around Richard's hot lips. They do seem to radiate just a minute amount of heat, and as Bleu snogs the shapeshifter, he could swear he tastes a note of exotic spices...

This one also arouses Bleu's curiosity (among other things). His eyes open once again, most intrigued by that exotic taste of spices. What could this be?

Richard backs away once more. His features are high and defined, mostly human but unnatural, otherworldly and magical. Not least of which are his eyes, which glow golden from within. His eyebrows are immaculately groomed arches of black hair. He is bald above that point save for a top-knot ponytail, rising like a minaret in the desert. A dashing goatee which can't be wider than a dozen hairs at any point frames his lips, which are drawn tight in a stern expression.

"You have awoken Rashad, genie of the lamp," he announces both softly and imperiously, speaking with a slightly nasal accent. His serious facade collapses into a smirk not even a second after he finishes speaking. He resumes, "I can also do I Dream of Jeannie, and I think my Robin Williams impression is passable. Your wish is my command." He pauses, then leans back in to Bleu. "I'm sure you wish to kiss me again. That one is a freebie."

Bleu isn't so sure in this moment. "A genie, eh? You've already granted most of my wishes so far. Maybe I should kiss, just one more time, though..." And that he does, though he doesn't close his eyes... Not yet. Perhaps he wants an extra moment to decide. Or maybe he wants to abuse that last 'wish'...

Richard lets his luminous eyes lid over, simply enjoying the moment and the opportunity to tease this horned and horny fellow. He is at their beck and call. They need only signal their intent, and he will comply to the best of his ability. Guessing that free wish was an easy one. The taste of turmeric and tikka masala plays ever so subtly across Bleu's tongue as 'Rashad's' does much the same.

Bleu has made his decision, yes. This form, so exotic and alluring. He likes it. "Mmmph... Th-this one," he manages to moan out, before he's too caught up in the kissing to say anything else. In this moment he's practically worshipping the man in his arms. He wants nothing more than to be with Richard forever.

Richard's whole body flushes with the same heat as his lips. He pulls a quarter of an inch away from the kiss to whisper, "As you wish, master," before kissing Bleu on the cheek... then the jaw, and then several times down the neck as his transformation builds momentum. His shoulders widen and swell with muscle, biceps ballooning, forearms reforming, and pectorals pushing outwards. A dull red color rolls over his skin from head to toe, bringing with it yet another pulse of heat. His entire body feels smooth and warm, practically for a wet sheen to be placed upon it. "You like this sensation, don't you, master?" He breathes. His kissing trails further down, onto the shoulder, over the breast. He plants one final kiss over Bleu's heart, then stands and gazes deep into the eyes of the satyr, one hand draped across each of his shoulders. "The warmth," he says, "the strength and gentleness."

He squeezes firmly enough to hold but not so hard as to restrain. His grip loosens, and begins to drag lovingly down the length of Bleu's arms as Rashad takes a single step backwards. "My fingers dance across your skin as softly as the finest grains of sun-baked desert sand, warmest of all, barely upon the cusp of scalding, but you know they will never cause you pain." He takes one more step, letting Bleu's fingers pass through his own. Now past arms' reach, the djinn crosses his arms over his swollen pecs. A pair of solid gold rings encircle his nipples, and as his arms move, several seamless gold bangles form at each of his wrists. "What would you have me d-"

He puts a finger up, jangling his bangles with sudden motion. "Actually, one question first," he says, dropping the act entirely. That finger points down past his sculpted abdominals, "I can do poofy pants or like... that wisp of smoke thing for my legs. Do you have a preference?"

Bleu finds himself leaning closer to the djinn, though held firm, yet gently, by the shoulders. As Richard's touch drags down his arms, and his goat-like ears perk to his lover's warm and florid descriptions, he nods, and sighs pleasantly. He knows exactly what he wants Richard to do, but that interrupting question drags the satyr back to reality. "O-oh... Pants, definitely. I like your strong legs..."

Richard crosses his arms again. "It has been decreed," he announces, "I shall wear the poofy pants." At the end of that sentence, the uppermost part of his loincloth changes to a soft, shining cloth like those found at the far end of the Silk Road. It wraps around his waist as a sash. The rest of the cloth changes as well, encasing his hips before draping down either leg. At their ends, they cinch down upon his ankles. More of the material manifests around his feet, forming a pair of pointed shoes. He stands silently at attention (both euphemistically and otherwise), awaiting his next command.

Bleu claps his hands. Yes, indeed, he likes this. Everything about it. "Ah, well. So... First off, how many wishes have I got, hmm? Traditionally there's only three, but I figure we're probably dispensing with that tradition, right?" He rubs his chin, and steps closer to his lover, running his hand over Richard's bare chest. "On the other hand, my first command might be to fuck me senseless, but sometimes the tease is just as much fun as the end result..."

Rashad stands motionless, save for a twitch of the loins at the hand caressing the beef steak's worth of meat that serves as his pec. "You are limihhh~" He says, the twitch migrating to his face. "Nnf, excuse me-" The nomads camped out on his crotch must be leaving, because the tent there abruptly ceases to exist. It's clear that the main tentpole is gone, and a shift in the wind makes it evident that the site is now entirely barren. He bends over forwards, hands on his knees, and breathes heavily.

"Haah. Hoo. I'm okay. Holy shit. Whew..." He looks over to his no doubt confused master/lover. "No underpants. Silk was..." he breathes heavily, then heaves himself upright again. A fist comes up to his mouth. He clears his throat into it. "Oh man. Sorry about that. I could *not* focus. No way in hell I would've made it over to the hot springs. As I was saying-" He straightens up fully, crossing his arms and fixing his glowing eyes upon Bleu's own.

"You are limited only by what you can imagine. I will grant any wish, and any number of wishes, save for those that seek to take life or restore it to the dead. Make your decision, and I shall make it so."

Bleu gives some thought to his lover's words. "Any wish, save raising the dead. Heh, really old school there." He rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Well... I want a nice bed, four-poster, with silk sheets, and a satin comforter... Baby blue in color." His description is oddly specific.

Rashad nods. "So it shall be." He waves his hand out towards the courtyard. "I apologize. I could not safely put it closer. If you inspect it, you will find that the sheets are of high thread count. Freshly woven, never washed nor stained before. The bed itself is made of acacia wood, carved and inlaid with patterns resembling grape vines. I assume you desired pillows as well. A multitude of fine feather-down pillows in many shapes and sizes are at the head of the mattress, stacked against the headboard in pillow cases of matching satin and silk."

Bleu claps his hands and grins, then rushes over the bed and hops onto it. "Oooh, it's nice and soft. And baby blue! Just perfect!" He loses himself with hugging some pillows for a few minutes. "Oh, now my second wish, ummm... Well... Yes, how 'bout some romantic music. You know... Sultry, seductive..."

Following his master up to the bedside, the genie nods once more. "Yes, master." He raises a hand beside himself, angled perfectly at 90 degrees at the shoulder, and again at the elbow. Movement seems to surge through his muscles, from the shoulders, through the biceps and triceps, passing through the forearm into his hand. He snaps his fingers once. "From this point, you shall be able to hear music clearly and at whatever volume you subconsciously prefer. It is currently that of a live jazz band performing a medley of music which matches your description." His arm lowers in a single fluid motion, joining the other across his chest. He stoically turns his head to the invisible spot in space. "I believe this is 'Careless Whisper,' performed as an instrumental interpretation." Rashad returns his luminous gaze to the pillow-snuggling satyr. "Is there anything else you desire?"

Bleu hrmms. "Can you hear the music, or just me? I want it to get us *both* in the mood..." He looks up at the sky. "I want you to feed me chocolate, as suggestively as possible. Right here on the bed, beside me. Then I want a belly rub, followed by some leg rubbing. You know, before we get to the *hot stuff*..."

The djinn lets slip the barest hint of a smile. "Loudly and clearly, master." He seats himself with one leg draped over the edge of the bed and his other bent, sitting half cross-legged on the edge of the bed. "I have in my hand a bar gourmet Belgian chocolate. Close your eyes and I shall lay it on your tongue." Should Bleu comply, Rashad would tenderly place a pinch upon his master's tongue. "If you will permit my opinion, I prefer to have such a delicacy last as long as it can. I recommend you allow each morsel to melt upon your tastebuds, to have every particle to impart its sweetness to you." Again. He leaves his thumb inside the man's mouth longer than strictly necessary. "Feel it melt upon your palate. You hardly even need swallow. Let your own body do the work. Allow me to cater to you." One more. Larger this time. Rashad's fingers are smeared with chocolate that has softened in his heated grip. He leaves his fingers in Bleu's mouth, ensuring none of the sweet is wasted. "Heat. Such a simple thing. You make it without effort, as I grant these wishes without effort." A larger piece still, though Bleu feels this one hanging just at the edge of his lips...

Bleu closes his eyes readily, and tries eat that piece, only to find his lover's fingers in his mouth, letting the sinfully delicious chocolate melt slowly against his tongue. He could get used to this treatment. On the introduction of the second piece, he almost tries to lean up to grasp it with his lips, but refrains, allowing the djinn to hold it as he pleases, apparently teasing the goatman in some respects.

There's a deep "Hmmm" from the musclebound magician. He allows the sugary sweet to fall into the goatman's mouth. "You are a man of taste. This treat is good, but it is plain. You desire something more" Rashad muses, "and I shall provide." There is a momentary pause before he says, "You need not hesitate. Take it from me." Odd. He sounded like he was getting closer as he said that. Nonetheless, Bleu feels the warmth of Rashad's body closing in, and another fragment of the cocoa conjuration at the edge of his lips. In fact, that warmth is *very* close.

Bleu keeps his eyes closed, wanting to keep the surprise complete. He can feel the warmth, has a faint idea, but not conclusive, what it might be. He leans in, takes that bite, and murrrrs.

Once the bait is taken, Rashad moves in. His lips meet his lover's. The chocolate is shared between two mouths, tossed between two tongues. The flavor of cardamom and caraway blends with cocoa as the candy breaks down, melted by the Arabian heat of Rashad's form and the tamer temperatures of the satyr beneath him. That stream of sugar and spice flows naturally down Bleu's throat as the kiss continues.

Bleu mmms, pressing eagerly against Rashad's lips. Quite heavenly. Such exotic flavors, mixed together. Almost intoxicating. The satyr wants... More. It's impossible not to. Rashad is everything he could want, and then some.

Boy, this satyr is eager! Rashad can tell from the thrashing of the tongue in his mouth that Bleu is begging for it. That dunk in the hot tub last time didn't give as much feedback as this closed-eyes kissing session did. All right... what can we do to really rile this Greco-Roman Romeo up? He liked that stand and carry thing back when Richard was playing off of that knight comment. Bleu's just under five feet tall most of the time. This beefcake body is just begging for a boost out of being four-foot-something to cater to what Rashad hopes is one of Bleu's fantasies. The first things Bleu would notice are that Rashad's tongue is pushing even deeper into his mouth. His plush lips feel like they're swelling, and that delightful spice in his saliva is stronger, though not hotter in flavor. Pulling away from the kiss, Rashad, now two feet taller than he had been with proportions to match, tears a chunk from the chocolate bar using only his teeth and moves back in to make out some more.

Bleu is more than eager. It's taking all his willpower to keep his considerable libido in check and not to just grab his lover and shove the other man onto the and fucking him madly right there. Fortunately, satyrs actually *do* have considerable self-control when they need to. Seeing that the djinn has grown, he murrrs, smiling to himself when Rashad leans in with another piece of chocolate. "Mmm, I could get used to this," he murmurs, before pressing into that kiss, savoring the chocolate once more.

Rashad's tongue, now enlarged along with his entire body, dominates the kiss completely. If he's beefy, his tongue is the steak. Slathered in spice and slick with saliva, it tosses about the tab of chocolate like it were a TicTac, but the titan is anything but dominant over his master's mouth. The satyr is the one steering the kiss. Even so, the taller and stronger of the two tosses his lover on top of himself, rolling on the sheets so the satyr lands atop him without breaking the kiss.

Bleu is far too caught up in the kiss to really protest or react when his mate suddenly rolls over on the bed, goatman now on top, where he looks so much smaller than the djinn. Rashad is not far off the mark, though... Bleu does enjoy these size differences...

Now in a more submissive position where he serves somewhat as the satyr gets even more oral affection. He can smell that the goatman's getting juicy down there. Hm. That reminds him that he's currently... unequipped, due to a silken sensitivity issue. Thankfully, he no longer has to support his bulk on the bed. A muscular arm snakes its way down to his lover's labia, caressing his sheath and sack on the way there. One of his heated fingertips finds its way into the slick tunnel, taking full advantage of his enhanced reach to pull Bleu close.

Bleu is still utterly engrossed in the passionate chocolate kiss, so he isn't aware when Rashad's hand sneaks its way toward the satyr's plump, wet folds, but he certainly notices when the djinn strokes over his sheath, and his sack, too, but his biggest reaction comes when his lover's finger presses right into his pussy, Bleu letting out a pleasured bleat.

Yes... he's liking this. Them's the happy goat noises. Rashad releases the candy bar from his grasp in favor of something sweeter. His now-freed hand rises to roam over the shorter man's back, searing Saharan heat suffusing into the satyr's muscles and spine, but true to Rashad's earlier word, the sensation is anything but painful. It's like a hot stone massage from the giant genie's hands.

Bleu oohs, his eyelids fluttering a bit as he finds both his plump folds being toyed with, and the most amazing feeling of warmth and soothing heat spreading into his back and helping to loosen and relax tense muscles. It feels truly incredible, heavenly, in fact. And there are, of course, far more of those happy goat noises to follow, murring bleats that he can't *not* make, because he *has* to express his pleasure somehow.

Like putty. That's the only way to describe it. He has Bleu exactly where he wants to be. Using a massive, muscular man's terrific torso as a body-pillow while his lover is knuckle-deep inside of him. Rashad feels a sense of accomplishment, knowing he's serving his master's wishes so wel- haaang on, no need to let the nanites tell him what to think. Just a role-play. A damn hot one. That pride is warranted even without nanites nudging his mind in that direction. Rashad's single finger inside that slick tunnel is joined by a second. His wrist swivels slowly, sliding the fingers in and out. They flex and fidget, their thaumaturgical owner gauging by the sounds of the groaning goatman whether he's close to a G-spot as his thumb slides over the clit at the front of that slit for good measure. Rashad breaks the kiss long enough to let Bleu breathe, saying, "Allow me to serve you, master," before pucking up again to help bring Bleu even closer to bliss.

Bleu certainly enjoys being served, if it feels this good. Melting back into that new kiss, after his brief breather, his bleating groans start up once again, getting louder and more intense every time his lover's fingers his one of those fabled g-spots. And every time that *does* happen, the satyr's mind goes blank for as long as the spot is being teased, his whole body slumping a little more more like a big ol' ragdoll. He hasn't got a pussy fingering this good in quite awhile. In fact, Bleu can't even remember the last time.

Aaaaand bingo! There they are. Rashad's sexual pseudo-sonar system finds its mark. He'll tell Bleu it's genie's intuition if he asks... if he's coherent enough to even have that question. Pride turns to envy. His partner is having a grand old time. The sights and sounds are starting to get Rashad a bit randy, and he doesn't even have the parts to participate in this pleasure. Envy turns to shame. Rashad's face flushes hot when he realizes that this selfish impulse goes against his own desires, against his own choices. There will always be another time. He was fine with that underwater BJ back at the bachelor pad, and something tells him that he's been in the same position as the one he's got Bleu in right now. Shame gives way to resolve. Rashad doesn't know how. He doesn't even know *if.* He simply feels that at some point, this man has brought him to the heights of pleasure. He'll be damn sure before this evening's over that Bleu will get to go there too. Rolling even further, onto his side, he sends the satyr partly off of him and onto the sheets. With gravity no longer pressing the pair together, Rashad ceases his massage and uses the separation to slide his hand between them, starting to stroke Bleu's stiff, unsheathed shaft.

Bleu finds himself being shifted again, down onto the soft satin sheets, though he's a bit too insensate with pleasure to fully notice. He does notice, however, when his lover's hand comes to stroke his perpetually erect equinoid rod, and emits another bleating moan accordingly. 'Yesss, that's good,' he thinks, while his cock twitches and throbs to Rashad's touch, musky, alcoholic pre pooling up from the cumslit to splatter across his still-round belly and chest.

And Bleu's bell-end is already lubed for his pleasure. This is... wait, why does it smell fermented? Actually, you know what? It doesn't matter. Rashad moans for his master's benefit while the kiss goes on. Down below, his large, heated hand rises up that stiff shaft, brushing over the medial ring and palming its broad head. It's slick up top, but as Rashad slathers the slickening liquid back down Bleu's dong, he begins to run low on natural lubricant. This is a good start, but from the feel of it, the faun-like mutant is set to go off sometime soon. Even with his more passive approach to the kiss, Bleu's tongue feels like it's not doing much conscious movement. Working with what he has to work the master's wang, Rashad switches hands, plastering the penis with pussyjuice as he resumes his pistoning of the pleasure canal. Much better. With a firm grip like the hot tongs of a Damascus blacksmith, Rashad pumps the bellows of Bleu's balls by basting his manhood with muff fluid in two strokes and then continuing his ministrations in time with his master's pounding heartbeat.

On a normal day, Bleu could wax on and on about the alcoholic content of his cum, and how it's a special gift from his god Dionysus, but at the moment his lips are firmly locked with those of his supremely handsome mate, and his mind is frankly overwhelmed by the great handjob he's getting, as Rashad spreads both the satyr's pre-cum and vaginal fluids all up and down his throbbing penis. Each pump of Bleu's balls also gets another loud bleat, followed by another splatter of pre, though one senses that full orgasm is not far behind.

The genie keeps pumping, plastering the prick with its own pre to keep the lubrication consistent. Down under that, his pussy-pistoning progresses into a three-fingered affair. The rapid breathy bleating (can we take a second to say how cute that is?) signals to Rashad that his master's orgasm is near, and he raises the tempo of his stroke to match, playing his privates like a musical instrument to accompany the sensual soundtrack that Rashad set up earlier. The chords on the medial ring, flare, clit, and G-spot seem to be crowd pleasers in this private performance.

Now that Rashad is thrusting three fingers into Bleu's hot, achingly needy pussy, the satyr's aforementioned cute happy sounds just keep getting more insistent. With the increased tempo, as well, Bleu finally dares to break the kiss, but that's only because he's throwing his head back to moan far louder than before, his balls tensed up to spray satyr seed all over himself and the genie's hands. "Oof. Damn..." is about all he can muster to say.

Boom goes the dynamite. Now that moan... that was musical. Sticky seed shoots skyward, splattering the satyr's stomach and staining the sheets. Some gets on Rashad's hands, but he ignores it until the spasms of jism abate, speeding up even further to keep pace with the spurts and then coming down gently, even delicately as his master's cumshot gradually ceases. When he finally begins to feel that throbbing rod lose its rigidity, he releases his grasp. Contented in his literal handiwork, he rolls onto his back and allows Bleu to do the same. The pleasured Pan-esque person would hear Rashad shuffling off to the side before another bite of Belgian chocolate is dangled above his face in cum-stained hands. "I take it that this way of enjoying chocolate was adequately sensual, master?"

Bleu takes a little bit to recover. He knows in the back of his mind that he'll be good for a round two before too long. But for now he's relaxing on the cum-stained sheets, looking up at the sky and giggling softly. "Mmm, you could certainly say that," he murmurs, before raising his head to reach the chocolate with his lips. Letting it melt on his tongue, he sighs, then immediately licks at Rashad's fingers, tasting his own cum.

"It pleases me to meet with your approval." His forced stoicism cracks into a smile, at least for a little while. It really is hard not to take pride in a job well done. In this case, a double handjob. Rashad offers his other hand and more chocolates, letting Bleu savor both of the sweet and salty flavors. With dinner in the near-distant past and Bleu having concluded the indulgence and intercourse, Rashad rises to a sitting position, then rolls to kneel between Bleu's legs. "Lay back and relax," he states, offering the remainder of the chocolate bar to his partner, "I believe you wished for a belly and leg massage to follow that treat, did you not?"

Bleu takes a bite of chocolate, and sighs happily again. He lays back, alright, and gets incredibly relaxed, still eating that chocolate and fully indulging his craving. "Yes, a belly massage would be great. Big as a fucking cow right now... You'll probably feel little Bleu Jr. kicking, too..." He giggles. "Course, I'm curious what your opinion on being a father is? You know, for the future..."

Rashad complies with the next part of the wish without hesitation. "As you wished. And the sushi earlier," he says, breaking character for candid commentary, "I don't know what it is about that specific type of food that makes it so filling." His heated hands move in wide, counter- rotating circles around Bleu's belly, barely pressing through his muscles and letting the warmth of- that's not a beer belly? All right then. "Oh. Congratulations! May I ask who the father is?" The caress of his crimson fingers becomes that much lighter near the navel of the masculine hermaphrodite, cautious of the new life within. Then comes the question. Those strong hands just barely quiver. Richard sighs. "I don't feel ready for that. Call me old fashioned, but I'd want to settle down before having a kid. Marry someone who knows me as well as I know myself, buy a plot of land, really focus on raising them responsibly instead of kicking yet another feral out into the world. Until then, I'm on a sterility patch." There's a pause which is the other type of pregnant while he continues rubbing the satyr's stomach. "God, I never thought I'd say this, but I miss *kids.* Honest to goodness innocent children, who take at least a dozen years to turn into horny monsters. Practically built the world around them all those years ago."

Bleu mmmms, his eyes lidded while the djinn works his magic, feeling that massaging warmth basically suffuses his core. "Umm, lemme see if I recall... I believe it's Kar's... Another of my lovers. Should be due any day now, to be honest... You'll, ah... Probably see me pregnant fairly often," he admits, his cheeks flushing. Listening to his lover's other words, though, makes Bleu open his eyes fully. "M-marry, did you say?" He wasn't aware there was anyone left who still did that. At least, anyone beside himself. "It's not old fashioned... It's terribly romantic," he breathes. "I get you, though... Every time I've had a child, I have that yearning to raise them, but... c'est la vie. Such is life now. I think that only happens in nanite bubbles, though, so for all we know..." He trails off.

Richard smiles softly at his Magnus meetup acquaintance turned one night stand partner turned lover, drinking in both his reaction and his words. "Ah, I think I've seen him around. Not sure I've met him though. Knowing what you do when I'm not looking, it really doesn't surprise me that you're getting knocked up rather often." Hold on, is it just the sunset, or... no, he IS blushing! "Really, is that the one thing you're bashful about? Whether or not they're getting raised by you, you made a life. That's something to be proud of, in my opinion." The light force of his fingers on flesh travels lower on Bleu's body, beginning to work his furred legs into the massage. "Yeah... I think Anbessa and Luna might be doing that, actually. Not sure if they have kids, but I'm pretty Luna's exclusively with him." He stops for a second, looking off to the side. "On second thought, maybe it's the idea of kids that I miss. I don't think I'm gonna trek across the continent to find out if it's possible to raise a child the normal- used to be normal way."

Bleu mmmms, stretching a little bit as Rashad's hands start to work down over his shaggy-furred hips and thighs. "W-well, yeah... A little bashful," he admits. "I've birthed or sired over 10 children, not all of whom I keep in contact with. But I love them all deeply." He fixes his gaze on the djinn. "You want to be someone's one and only, though, huh? Gods, I do understand that more than most. I didn't use to have so many mates..."

Richard nods, with a not quite smile or frown of an expression stretching his lips. Ten kids. "C'est la vie. Not much anyone can do to raise ten kids in a hands-on way. At least you didn't leave them like orphans." He works his way down further to the thighs, finding and easing out knots in the muscles. Something about this topic is making him tense. He's equipped for sore muscles. Sore subjects... well... "You don't have to go on if this is bringing up bad memories."

Bleu mmms, closing his eyes again. "Eh, it doesn't bring up bad memories anymore," he declares. "I'm over it... Just..." He strokes his goatee. "Wondering if our path might lead to… But I mean, we did practically just meet..." He's starting to backpedal now.

Richard guessed correctly, it seems. There's a history behind Bleu's statement. That can come out in its own due time. Richard will tend to more current matters for now. "We *did* practically just meet. We ought to keep going, make sure we're more than fuckbuddy friends before we commit." There's also another, less serious reservation Richard has about walking down the aisle with this lovely cinema nerd. "Besides,I think we've actually got a metric for whether we're taking it slow enough. Marrying another guy would be the #2 spot on that list I keep bringing up," he glibly offers, knuckles and fingertips digging into and working out the stiffness of the satyr's leg muscles.

Bleu mmms, bleating softly once again as Richard's fingertips dig into his muscles, working out those kinks. It's the best massage he's gotten in years. "Mmm, well, I think we're certainly past fuckbuddies," he murmurs, "But I think you've got a good idea there. Admittedly, I do have a tendancy to rush into things..." he laughs, and then sighs. "It's good to have one of us be the level-headed half of the pair."

Richard continues down to Bleu's calf muscles now taking one in both hands to knead like dough. Dough usually doesn't have a shin bone in it, but that analogy is going to have to do. He's kind of surprised that Bleu didn't ask what #1 was on that list. On further reflection, it might have been a mutual respect of privacy. "Yeah. Most of the time I am, I guess. If I'm being honest, it's probably a holdover from before I turned into a regenerating shapeshifting sex machine," he snorts, reflecting on how much he had to work himself up to get out of the human enclave and see Fairhaven. "I try to think things through to their results, but consequences are a lot gentler to me in-bubble. I suppose it would be nice to have something else keeping me grounded. Focusing on what matters."

Bleu nods, sighing to himself as Richard rubs his narrow calves, the satyr wiggling his ankles. "Oooh, yes, right there. Yeah, that feels good..." He's enjoying this entirely too much, alright. "See, I'm very much the opposite... I'm flighty, to the extreme. Rush headlong into relationships, and I suppose that's why I now have so many lovers. I wear my heart on my sleeve, and I tend to fall hard and fast. I handwave it away as being polyamorous, which is true. But in the early days I had a 'husband', so to speak. Eh..." He shrugs. "That was a long time ago."

Richard looks away from his work on his lover's lower legs. Sounds like the symptoms of a broken heart. "Well... you don't have to handwave it away. You're a bachelor now. One of these days you're gonna find a favorite, whether or not it's me. Plenty of fish in the pond, and plenty of op-" Oh god dammit. "Aaand I'm repeating myself again. Point still stands. I think there's someone out there who's a great match for me, and I don't see why that wouldn't be true for you." He switches calves, attending to the other leg now. "Just take it slow. On an individual level, I mean. Anyone can be a one-night stand. It's the morning after that matters, and whether they call you up again later."

Bleu's voice betrays no such feelings... But his words do tell that story. The satyr has so many 'mates' because he's trying to replace his Deke, with varying degrees of success. Bleu shrugs, and sighs. "I mean, I do think I'd like having a one and only again, but I've done made so many connections with other truly wonderful people that this time around it would be more of an open marriage, as they say. But, this is a more relaxed time, so maybe that's no longer as big an issue as it once was." He finally smiles down at Richard. "You called me up again. I was really pleased when you did, too. I wasn't sure just *what* you remembered of our one night stand, you were so drunk, but clearly I must've made an impression, eh?"

Richard, now down to the... whatever the foot equivalent is on an ungulate, plies and prods at the ligaments just above Bleu's hooves. "Open marriages do seem to be the norm, when and where they exist. That example I gave earlier with Anbessa and Luna is... hell, Anbessa's job in the Zephyr directory is 'mercenary/breeder for hire,' and that's the closest to a conventional marriage that I'm aware of." Without much in the way of muscle down here and the hooves being a mite too hard for a massage, Richard settles for what he's done so far

"For what it's worth, *we* think you're a cute couple," one of the pillows says. Another, across the headboard from there hisses, "Shut up! You're ruining the- shit. Too late."

Bleu finds himself atop an improvised mattress of folded towels inside the spa section of the tea retreat. Cave walls stretch overhead in a wide arch around steaming pools of water, some only ankle-deep, some deep enough to swim in. "Well," Richard says, shrugging with his arms held wide, "you guys made a convincing bedspread while it lasted. Several other pillows tanukify and walk away. Others turn out to be balled up towels. "I'm surprised he was under for as long as he was. Seriously, guys, you were MVP props for that. You didn't have to- "

"We *wanted to,*" a tanuki claims, "now you two lovebirds spend some time in the onsens and unwind, yeah?"

"Okay," Richard starts, "so obviously most of that genie stuff was an illusion. You kinda glossed over when I looked at you as that snake form, and when I said my hands were warm... you just went with it."

Bleu had been just in the midst of enjoying himself as Richard worked the tendons and hocks above his hooves. That's a good spot, alright. He sighs, listening to his lover talk about marriage... Then his eyes shoot open and he sits up when that unexpected voice speaks just beside his left ear. "Gah! Oh... It's you guys!" Being called a cute couple makes him blush, however, even if the randy goatman is inclined to agree. But then he realizes he's no longer in the garden. "Where on earth... How did I get here?" He asks. "Was that all a dream?" But then Richard answers his question, though the satyr just kind of nods. "Wow... That felt SOOO real..."

Richard clears his throat. Thank fuck, he's taking it well. "For the record, I did NOT mean to do that. The only real part about that was the chocolate bar. I think. I don't know *exactly* what you saw, but I told you there was a bed out in the garden, and it seems like you believed it," Richard says, red faced as he has been for the last few minutes. His whole body is red, but we're focusing on his face. "'You are limited only by your imagination,'" he says, returning to the accent he put on for the duration of that unintentionally aided role play. His bangled hands drag over his face with a prolonged exhalation. "No harm done, I hope. I legit forgot that the lamias could do that."

Bleu hmmms, looking his lover up and down. A grin tugs at the edges of his lips. "Dude... That was quite relaxing. I feel more refreshed now than I did when we got here... Though I suppose perhaps I should be concerned what I talk about when I'm under hypnosis. I don't think I'd normally go on and on about marriage like that... Sorry, Love." He looks away for a moment. "Anyway... Shall we get a nice soaking in? It'll be the perfect finish for such a great massage..."

Semi-consensual sex and a hot tub? Where have I heard that before? "Yeah. Now *I* need to relax. Having that level of responsibility is goddamn harrowing. You would have believed literally whatever I told you," he confesses, standing off of the 'bed' with a huff. He turns around and points at Bleu. "The one thing I want you to believe from all that is that you've got plenty of time to find someone if you *are* thinking of settling down. Say what you want about how you were under the influence, but shit. that topic of conversation came from somewhere." He finds a steaming pool hewn out of the cave floor which has a ledge for sitting inside comfortably. "Need to change into something with less muscles to be full of tension..."

Bleu frowns slightly as Richard speaks. "Oh... Oh, I'm sorry." He stretches some, his lips pursed thoughtfully. "I'll take my time, though," he replies. "Even though I doubt it'll come to much." He shrugs, then starts to climb down into the pool with his friend.

Richard waves his hand at the apology. “Thanks, but... hell, correct me if I'm wrong but you seem like you're fine with it. I should've been more careful with my shifting, that's all. Speaking of..." He starts scrolling through a list on his comms. He mutters to himself as he manipulates the menu. "Let's see... No, no, also no...Too fat...That one's got no muscles, but it's a literal skeleton... Hair's too long on that one... That one can't undress..." After a few more seconds of scrolling, he shrugs and says, "Heck, may as well not be solid." Having finally made up his mind, he...starts to become transparent. Over the course of a few seconds, his features all blur together and become transparent, not unlike a certain jello-snake scientist. Once fully jellied, Richard flows into the onsen and ends up in a seated position.

Bleu doesn'take his eyes off Richard as the other man turns to literal goo. Or gel. Take your pick. She lowers himself into the water, his little tail flitting, though as soon as he gets settled he changes as well, to that sexy aquatic form Richard knows so well. "So... You know, I think the tanuki here think we're dating or something... Are we?" He looks over at the gel with a smirk.

Richard glances over towards the mer-hermaphrodite as he settles quite literally upon the seat. "Pretty sure we are," he states, matter of factly. "I mean, I brought you out to dinner, I proposed we have a 'more than friends and possibly more than that' relationship, and we fucked. Passionately. If that's not a date, I'm not a gel. Or goo. I don't remember which one I went with." Looking down, he can see his own legs below the surface. "I think it's gel." He leans back against the rim of the hot spring, sighing in relaxation. This is hydrating as heck. He should do this more often. "And what a date it's been."

Bleu mhmms, resting his arms behind his head. "I thought as much." The mer giggles. "It has been a date to remember. I don't think I've had one so passionate and sexually satisfying in awhile." His tail swishes through the water. "The only question is, when are you gonna introduce me to the parents?"

Richard had been leaning back with his eyes shut. They snap open. Really should have been expecting that question to come up at some point. He blinks away the surprise and sits up straight. "Well... whenever, I suppose. I'd like to give them some advance notice, though." Let's see, how would this even work... "They're not coming out of the enclave any time soon. That's my impression, at least. We could, uh... no, you're kinda drippy. We might not be allowed in. They could meet us at the cordon, I guess?"

Bleu looks over at Richard with a grin. "I'm drippy? Is that an insult?" He laughs. "Anyway, if you're worried about me being a bad influence, I can go as a human... A *fully dressed* human. You've seen my human form. I look like a 19 year old..."

Richard shrugs his slimy shoulders. "No insult intended. You're always wet and ready, that's all. Might pose an issue to the 'keep your hands and bodily fluids to yourself' rule for visitors." Bleu's offer is very accomodating. There's one other hitch, however. "...Since fucking when have you owned pants?" Richard chuckles. "That's news to me!"

Bleu harrumps loudly. "You haven't looked in my closet. I actually do own clothes... I just never wear them. But I can make exceptions. I do think going as a human would probably be for the best, though. They may take issue with my apparent ag, but I don't know." He sighs, sinking a little more in the water. "I'm not as drippy when I'm human, also..."

Richard quite literally slides around the circumferance of the pool to Bleu's side. "Yeah, I haven't . I'm just messing with you. In all seriousness, I think my mom would be thrilled to meet someone who's been face to face with a god. She's a..." He pauses as he realizes he should probably explain in detail. "Well, she was born Jewish, then ended up as a Unitarian. Pretty much freestyle religion, if you've never heard of it. Pick and choose what you want to believe, and do your research on any religion that's interesting. She's more of a Buddhist than anything else right now, I think."

Bleu turns to look at Richard, mmming as the gel explains his mother's beliefs. "Eh, well... You think that's something… I was raised Protestant, and now I'm full blown Greco-Roman pagan, which is about the craziest shift imaginable." He laughs. "Not that I'm exactly fully practicing. I don't sacrifice bulls to Zeus or any of that shit." His tail swishes through the water again.

Richard raises a viscuous eyebrow at both of those claims. "Ain't that crazy. There's fuckin'... two or three other pantheons with representatives around here. The world is what's crazy. If someone told me that Jesus, Mohammed, and Moses were in a perpetually tied game of rock-paper-scissors somewhere, I'd consider that they might not be lying." He leans in on Bleu, sinking into his shoulder slightly. "With the world as it is, Zeus is probably too busy getting busy to care."

Bleu mmms, laying his head back against the side of the pool. "Mmm, never met Zeus, but you're probably right... As it is, though, Dionysus is my patron deity now... So let's pour one out for the party god, eh?" He has nothing to pour out at the moment, unfortunately. "Still, back on topic...I'll try my best not to embarrass you, Love..."

Richard sighs contentedly on Bleu's shoulder. Maybe this will go well after all. "They're pretty open minded. Just keep those pants you claim to have on and it should be fine. Be good and we can go to my place afterwards, and I'll help you out of 'em." Wait, did he already tell Bleu about- No, no he didn't! Duh. "Oh! Started renting a place in New Dawn. The rent at The Painted Gel is super cheap. It's got a nice, open setup, great view of the city..." he trails off.

Bleu smiles, resting against his gooey lover. "Don't worry... I know how to keep my clothes on." When Richard mentions having his own place, the mer grins. "Mmm, now I can't wait to see it... I suppose we'll start leaving toothbrushes at each other's apartment, huh?" His voice is lightly teasing.

Richard gooily grins at the idea of having regular company. "Sounds like a plan. Bring friends if you want. Plenty of room," he claims. Several seconds pass quietly as he contemplates... something. Something kinky, IF the geometry of it works out right. "That reminds me, what floor is your apartment on?"

Bleu looks over at Richard, his brow cocked. "It's on the roof," he replies, "Why do you ask? Something crazy in mind?"

The roof? Shit. So much for doing it at his place. "...Thinking of a sexy way to show you that Halloween costume. I *might* need a stepstool if I'm gonna pull that plan off at your place," Richard sighs. "Still think you'd like it. Just have to find somewhere else." One of his wandering hands flows behind Bleu and then back around, palming the further of the fish-person's funbags.

Bleu mmms, shifting some as Richard gives him a fondle. That's always nice. "I bet I would... Why do you show me at your place, hmm? I'll find it sexy, and then we'll bone. At this point, I think I'm safe in that prediction..." He smirks, and laughs.

Bleu tenses slightly as his nipple leaks milk thanks to Richard's teasing. Raising a hand to his neck he manipulates the odd flaps of flesh, exposing the bluish-colored, slightly oily-looking flesh within. "Gill slits. Both sides of my neck. Alas, this is my only water-breathing form... As an aside, these gills are crazy sensitive, and if you do it just right, you can just about cause me to orgasm by teasing them..." He blushes. "Anywho... Isn't the universe already our bitch?"

Richard massages the mer's mammary with his gel grabber. That little squirt of milk makes its way into his mitt, which is an odd sensation to say the least. Not unpleasant, but similar to taking a sip of warm sweetcream through a mouth that only existed for a microsecond. "Your gills?" The gel asks. "Well... now I'm getting another crazy idea. This is more of a bath than a jacuzzi. Let's see what I can do about that." The semi-solid shapeshifter's form starts to slump and lose its shape, flowing into a seat-like shape beneath and behind the mer-herm, draping across his shoulders above the surface of the water. "Miranai's slutty maid daughter seemed to like this. Mind giving me a second opinion?

Bleu isn't entirely aware of what Richard is doing at first. "Mmm, I like your crazy ideas," he murmurs, with his eyes closed, as the gel re-forms under and behind his body. "Well... I mean... Am I sitting on you? It feels pretty nice..."

Richard says, "Kind of. Don't worry, this is nothing *too* crazy. Just that I only had two hands to massage with when I was doing that genie thing. Now I don't need to bother with hands." The gooey gentleman conforms to the confused mer's body, wrapping around his torso like a belly-less one-piece swimsuit, albeit adapted for his baby bulge and broad aquatic tail. True to his word, the spa-warmed slime man starts a slick shiatsu session on the seated former satyr. Pulses of pressure rise in rapid repetition up the back muscles of the bathing sea-babe, and kneading waves wash over his shoulders. Just behind his shoulder, he would hear, "How's this?"

Bleu ohs, his eyelids fluttering as the gel gal flows around his body, murring happily as that shiatsu starts up. Making muscles the mer didn't even know he had loosen up and relax. "How's this?" he asks back, "It's great. Ooh... Right there, small of my back...Ohhhh..." He luxuriates in the sensations.

The still genderless gel goes for the spot specified at the base of Bleu's spine. Richard's... well, it would be his abs if he was still in a humanoid shape - push and prod at the strong swimming muscles that anchor Bleu's tail to his body. Though, Bleu can't see the goo's head, he soon feelsthe man's mushy lips brush the side of his neck and the gills gathered there.

Bleu's breath catches in his throat. There it is. That's it. Those tender, sensitive flaps. Bleu sighs, and he gently squirms in Richard's gooey embrace. "Mmm, I could get used to this," he whispers.

Richard's warm, humid breath rolls over those fishy flaps, followed swiftly by his taffy-like tongue teasing along the length of a lower slit. Tastes like tuna and tequila... "Mmm... Give me a ring on the comms whenever you want goo massage..." He mutters, shifting some of his mushy mass up to Bleu's neck to accompany the nuzzling. Tendrils of the translucent man roll over the rear of his neck in a comforting collar.

Bleu's head lolls back, and he shivers as Richard's tongue glides along his sensitive gill-slit. "Fuck, man... I'll give you a ring on the comms every damn day of the week... I'm stuck on you, I think." The mer grins toothily, as he feels his lover spread around his neck.

Richard pulls even more of himself off of Bleu's back to form a pillow under his partner's head. He looks down at himself. Most of the mass is up near Bleu's head and shoulders, with a single strand of slime extending to the area where the ass would be. It prods and plies at the mer-person's lower back. Meanwhile, two pseudopod-like hands are perched on his plump pectorals, gently hefting his breasts. Richard rubs the outside of the gills with the section of himself that's surrounding the back of Bleu's neck in a semi-circle. He withdraws portions of it to place his lips and tongue on the tender flesh underneath those flaps. "Stuck on *me*?" He quips. "Ironic..."

Now that's a nice pillow. Bleu was already comfortable, but now even more so. His tail swishes, slowly, as Richard continues to rub his lower back. "Ooof... Well, yes, I am *literally* stuck on you right now..." He grins, rolling his shoulders a little and then settling back comfortably. "Gotta ask... Do you prefer me with or without noticeable breasts?"

Richard hums thoughtfully, sending a shiver through his entire slimy self as his caresses continue. "Can't say I'm not a fan of a good set of tits," he states, "but hearing a man's voice along with them is a little confusing. Put 'em on whenever you feel like it." A brief flow of Richard's body twirls around the tips of Bleu's tits. "You're not thinking of getting rid of them *right now,* are you?"

Bleu shakes his head gently. "Mmm, no, don't worry. In point of fact, I actually can't individually influence my breast growth. I really should look into splashing out the cash for greater control of my nanites sometime..."

Richard hums once more. "'S worth it. Wish they were still doing that 'mako for surveys' program," he muses, still swirling slime around those supple breasts in addition to the light squeezes he's pressing onto the lower back and upper neck, "I heard Zephyr had to cut that part of their company. Too bad." Now that Bleu's head is fully settled back into that improvised pseudopod pillow, some of Richard's slime can creep around to the front of his fishy lower body. "Still have a little bit left over from that, if you're trying to ask for a Christmas gift."

Bleu opens his eyes, and hmmms. "Is that an offer, Lover Boy?" He grins, showing his pointed teeth again. "I mean, I wouldn't say no. It is rather shocking that I haven't bothered with pursuing the matter before now, though, considering how much I enjoy changing my shape at the drop of a hat." He sighs happily. "About Zephyr, though... They have been experiencing downsizes recently..."

Richard's head, which had been held above Bleu's shoulder, turns to meet those eyes. "Maybe it is," he teases. "I know I have fun mixing and matching." His eyes wander down to that grin. He blows out a whistle... or tries to. His partly liquified lips put forth a sputter at first before becoming the intended sound. "I'd say the most shocking thing here is those chompers. Yikes." Those creeping tendrils continue to encircle Bleu's waist. "Maybe the downsizing is a good sign. Could be that people are running the city more and more, not the company."

Bleu suddenly remember how intimidating his smile is now, and he stops grinning. "Mmm, maybe you should help me with the mixing and matching, huh? Guess it would take me to the next level..." He sighs again, enjoying the sensation of Richard around his waist. "You're correct, though. A new city government has been in the works for past couple years. Zephyr was heavily involved in the early days, in order to help it get off the ground, but it's been taking a less hands-on approach. I think they've been estimating that Fairhaven could be finally back to more-or-less normal by 2025..."

Richard smiles and nods. "It's the least the company could do. This is their mess," he claims. "I attended the fundraiser for that new police station a couple of months ago. We're definitely making progress. Magnus is... hell, I don't know what group he's with, but he's one of the most important people in town. Pretty sure we were supposed to have Michael J Fox on a hoverboard a few years back and not a fennec fox on a jetpack, though..." His head sinks lower, returning to tongue the part time goat's gills. The waist encircling extrusions also begin to encroach on Bleu's cunt, starting to stroke the scaly lips.

Bleu lets out a happy gasp of pleasure when Richard tongues at his gills, his whole aquatic body shuddering lustfully. The stroking at the mer's cunt, however, geta a bigger reaction, as Bleu squirms fitfully and moans. "Mmm, a 'Back to the Future' reference... I like your taste, yes. Th- think it makes me even more attracted to you..."

It seems the mer-maphrodite wasn't expecting those tender touches on their twat. Richard continues to gently stroke Bleu's gills, tease his titties, and massage his muscles even as he starts to caress that cunt in earnest. he pulls his mouth away from the nautical necking to speak. "This whole evening was my treat. First rule of entertaining is to know your audience."

Bleu had indeed not expected that, but if his happy moans are any indication, he's quite enjoying the teasing from the gel. His tits and gills being stimulated is lovely, too. "Mmm, well, you're getting to know me *quite* well. Really turns me on..." He wiggles some. "Get's me all hot 'n' bothered..."

Richard swirls around Bleu's body, slowly deflating the pillow behind his head into a simple pad to free up more mass. His head repositions to be in front of Bleu's own. "Getting to know you inside and out," he says, smirking down at the solid sea-person. Now entirely encasing Bleu's upper body save for his arms and head, Richard starts flowing a piece of himself into his lover's lower lips. It takes a familiar shape, throbbing and gently thrusting as shapeless goo strokes the stiff counterpart above it. "Don't be afraid to bite," he whispers, leaning down to resume his rendezvous with the other fish-scented slits on his fellow shapeshifter, "I taste like cherry."

"Cherry?" Bleu asks. "Huh..." He doesn't get long to contemplate the flavor of his lover, however, because suddenly his pussy is being thrust into, while his own slim cock is being stroked off, and he sighs happily. Yes, Richard's a keeper. "You better fuck me here again, babe..."

Richard shimmies the entirety of his slimy self as he settles into a rhythm, rocking his... he doesn't really have hips, but the thrusting is doing its thing. Slowly at first. The gel conforms to his lover's torso, touching everything, moving in unison with him to mash itself against everything from the mammaries to maleness. There's little doubt that he's doing exactly what Bleu told him to do as his turgid length touches every inch of the mer-herm's interior. He'd tell him a s much if his mouth wasn't making out with the mer's sensitive neck slits.

Bleu is rendered immobile by that manipulation of his gill slits. He wasn't kidding when he revealed how sensitive to touch they are. It makes him all weak in the knees (if he had knees). He huffs and squirms, unable to do anything but moan as the goo person starts fucking him silly.

The way his partner went almost limp from this full-body fucking almost feels unfair to Richard. At first he wonders if Bleu is bullshitting him, faking it for some reason. Then he realizes what's really happening. Bleu's body is sensitive to liquids. He's halfway to being one. Hot damn. And he only entered this form to make massaging him easier. He can't help but smile smugly at the unplanned effects of a shift working in his favor, as opposed to the extraneous entrancement of the snaky shift a while back. It breaks into a lecherous grin as he hears the man's moans from licks at his gill slits. This is too easy. He's gonna have to let Bleu get him drunk sometime to even the score.

Bleu is always more than happy to get someone drunk, so that's definitely bound to happen sooner, rather than later. In the meantime, however, he's too busy being turned into a quivery pile of aroused fish-boi and leaking milky-white pre-cum thanks to Richard's combined jerk-off session and filling Bleu's fishy cunt. He'd call it an unfair advantage, if he wasn't enjoying it so much.

Richard keeps his jello-y self jiggling. Fishy-boy's fluids flow into his form, creating discolored clouds wherever they come into existence. He can tell there's something new inside himself. He can almost taste it. The taste on his lips of alcohol and aquatic life overwhelms all others as he kisses and nuzzles into Bleu's erogenous gills, very nearly forcing his fluid form through them. The only participation from the insensate sea-man is the spasming of his cunt muscles and squirming of his body. It might be unfair, but an advantage like this makes Richard feel powerful. He thrusts harder. Faster.

Bleu is not one to argue about his boyfriend's power. (Wait, have they graduated to 'Boyfriends'? The merboi guesses so.) Those harder thrusts make his squirm, as more of his pre leaks out, his arousal steadily growing. When he cums, he's going to cum hard, most likely. And Richard's manipulation of his gills certainly is going to help with that.

Richard's rigid rod is ramming harder and harder into the mer-man he's holding down - not that he'd need to. Honestly, this feels a bit *too* one sided. His hectic hammering slows to a stop, huffing and puffing as his head hovers just above his lover's. (If we're not all the way to 'boyfriends' yet, meeting the parents would make it official.) Once he sees Bleu's eyes unglaze long enough to look into his own, he would say, "Hold me close," no, *beg,* "please." If Bleu is still too shaken from the severity of the sex, Richard would help him into the requested hug.

Bleu mmmphs, his eyes refocusing on his gooey lover, and he smiles, wrapping his arms around his gelled lover. "Hold you," he coos, his faculties clicking back into place, "Of *course*, my Love." He smiles, and holds Richard, and presses a kiss to pliant lips.

Richard accepts that kiss in a heartbeat, hellish teeth having no effect on his hesitance. It probably helps that he's literally liquid as well and doesn't have to worry about wounds. The thrusting, too, returns to its fever pitch as Richard fearlessly lets his tongue into his lover's mouth. He humps for all he's worth, trying to get back to that peak of pleasure again. Having Bleu clawing at his back spurs him forwards, and not out of pain. This form hardly feels it.

Bleu does inadvertantly let his claws dig into Richard's back, but of course, he's too distracted. All that thrusting has driven the mer to the edge, and he can't hold back any longer, as his firm rod erupts with thin, milky cum all over Richard. It's not nearly as thick as when he's a satyr. His cumming doesn't stop his passionate, hungry kissing.

Richard grunts at the sudden sensation of cum flowing into him. Even though it's going straight into his stomach, he can taste it. Like seawater, but sweeter. The passionate, cherry, salt, and liquer flavored kiss. The sheer feeling of rubbing against everything from chin to groin on the former satyr. The spasming of his cumming cunt and tensing balls. It's too much for him to bear as well, and he finds himself cumming in time with his (You know what? Let's just say it.) boyfriend. He moans a long and lustful moan into the mer's mouth, just barely having the presence of mind to grope at Bleu's gills as he does.

Bleu had begun to return to full awareness, until Richard gives his gills another good groping, and fishy boi lets out a pleasured yip, his head tipping back and tongue hanging out of his mouth. His one weakness in this form. He rides out Richard's climax, huffing and grunting rather lewdly, unable to articulate a rational thought as the two hermy 'men' climax together. Yes, boyfriend sounds about right.

Hearing Bleu's yip almost throws Richard off, until it trails into a lewd moan. He pulls himself tight against the blissed-out mer-boi, moving with surprising stiffness for one so fluid until he finally comes down from his cumming. When it's over, he breaks the kiss and seems to lose all cohesion, becoming a shapeless blob in the water for a few seconds before he can gather himself into a panting, mostly human-shaped lump sitting next to Bleu on the bath's submerged bench. "Stupid question," he asks, turning towards his boyfriend, "was it good for you, too?" The smile on his face is a bit too cheeky to be from the post-coitus high.