Toothless Goes Courting

Chapter 1

The cold woke me. I resisted, clinging to sleep with a paw draped over my eyes, but the stone beneath me was already chilly and I couldn’t keep up the pretense for long. With a weary smack of my lips, I stretched the ache from my muscles and let my wings fan away the mist that had crawled in as I dozed. When I had chosen the rock to nap on, the sun had been bearing down hard. Now the clouds were low and dark, so heavy with rain they scraped themselves on the peak of the island. I cast about and found something else had changed as I slept.

I’d been abandoned.

I called an unhappy question, but the forest swallowed the sound and the clearing fell silent again. I hopped down off my napping rock and swept off in search of my companion, down toward the shore where we live. My tail was limp, so I was forced to walk, which made me slower, which made me anxious. Before long the clouds opened and rain began to spatter me. It was too wet and it leeched the warmth from my wingtips, but that only urged me to run faster.

The rain was coming down hard by the time I reached the colony, and the earth and skies were both deserted as the flocks fled to shelter. I called for my companion as I bounded among the nests, but my voice failed to carry in the rain and no one answered. Before long I'd searched the usual places, and then the unusual ones, and still I hadn't found him.

It was more by luck than by my own cleverness that I finally had any success. Crossing from one path to another, I heard the bite of a human's tool-stones on wood. I turned the corner and there was Fishbone, my rider and fellow alpha. I gave him that name myself, the day we met. He's small and skinny and he doesn't weigh anything. And he's fragile. I warbled a greeting to him and didn’t conceal my worry. Humans get sick in the rain.

He cut a lonely figure, hunched on top of one of big hollow nests the humans had built for us, heedless of the wet and cold. Pausing as I approached, he waved an arm in greeting and called his name for me.

I’ve often wondered what that particular Thump-Hiss might mean. Something grand and dignified, I’m sure.

I hopped up to join him and get a better look at what he was doing. One of the wooden slabs that keeps the rain outside had been broken by some careless dragon. Fishbone had all his tool-stones laid out and was trying to attach a new one, hindered by the rain making everything slippery and cold. Curious, I took a peek through the hole and was irritated to find dragons huddled against the wall within, too lazy and comfortable to come outside and help. I gave them a snarl of reprimand that had them cringing. It was one thing to get a little soft with all the nice things humans made for us, but it was another to cower in your den while an alpha needed help. For a moment I was tempted to open some more holes to make sure they got wet, but I didn’t want to make more work for Fishbone.

Instead I moved away from the hole so my rider would have room to make his repairs. I circled around behind him and extended a wing to shield him from the rain. He stopped to wipe the water out of his head-fluff and warbled his sounds for friendship and gratitude. He was smiling. It had been a chore to convince the other dragons that the humans weren't snarling when they showed us their teeth, but I suppose it had been easier for me, learning about humans one-on-one. I was just happy to have found him before he got a chill.

Part of me wanted to chide him. An alpha couldn’t be spending himself on every little problem that came up. Surely one of his flock would be better suited to banging a new slab into place. But I know him. He’d never ask one of his humans to risk getting sick in the rain, and he’d never let my dragons suffer without cause. So he did the simplest thing, in his mind, and shouldered the burden himself.

Put like that, I couldn’t really be upset. He gave freely of himself to help others. It was the best quality you could have in an alpha, one I often struggled with as I quelled the endless squabbling among the newly-combined dragon flocks. Still, just because Fishbone is willing to suffer doesn’t mean he has to. He’s lucky I’m around.

Fishbone got back to work and I took the opportunity to survey our domain. The rain turned everything past a wingspan to silver shadows, but in my mind’s eye I could see the neat little rows of man-roosts, broken by the bigger silhouettes of dragon nests like this one. I remembered when the flock had first come to this colony. It had been a miracle how quickly the humans had taken to us, how eager they were to be friends after the battle with the old alpha. It was only later, speaking with my new wingmates, that I learned how Fishbone had taught the other men how to talk to us rather than trying to kill us. Even when he’d been the smallest and weakest, he’d been trying to lead them.

Movement caught my eye. A pair of spike-tails came dashing in, fleeing the rain long after it had begun, to alight in the entrance of one of the other dragon-roosts. I wondered for a moment if there had been some trouble that had kept them away, but then they had barely set down before they were nuzzling and preening each other and I recognized them: a pair of new mates, probably off frolicking somewhere.

A lot of dragons had been pairing off, lately. With the wars over and the humans spoiling us, the mingling of the three flocks had meant that everybody got their pick of potential partners. In fact, the only ones who seemed completely unaffected were the island’s leaders. We’ve gone about it a bit backwards, I suppose. Winning a mate is supposed to be easier than becoming alpha. But then, Fishbone and I were never ones for tradition.

Mating seasons had come and gone a few times since I came of age, but I had never felt any particular stirring. The other dragons were all the wrong shape, not to mention covered in spikes, and since there could be no breeding with them I took comfort in blessed solitude. There are worse things in the world, I had always told myself, than to be strong and alone.

But then I met Fishbone and our injuries bound us together. Neither of us will ever be strong and alone now. Instead we are even stronger together. Neither of us alone could have stopped the fighting, or killed the old alpha, or combined three great flocks into one. We would never have become the two mighty leaders of our island. More likely we would be dead, or lonely.

And as I watched my clever, brave little human work, it occurred to me, not for the first time, that there are reasons besides siring a clutch that a dragon might take a mate. A mate is supposed to be the other half of you, but I had never looked for that because I already had it. Fishbone and I were bound together so tightly that at times I felt I could barely breathe without him. Nothing could defeat us and nothing could separate us.

Fishbone was far and away the likeliest potential mate on the island. If only he knew it.

I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed, either. The whole flock was aware that their alphas were unattached, and naturally that made us subject to a lot of attention. They hadn’t even had the decency to confine their advances to mating season, more interested in status than eggs. When it had finally gotten through to the flock that I wasn’t particularly interested, they had turned their attentions to Fishbone, who is so dense and friendly they thought he was encouraging them. It had taken ages, but they were leaving him alone for the time being.

I had been so relieved when they had backed off, and I hadn’t known why at first. Since then, I’d put some thought into it. The worst thing about Fishbone taking another mate would be having to share him. The idea of another having a claim on him brought my teeth out, and it made me think differently about something I had already known: Fishbone was my other half.

New slab in place, my rider stuffed the tool-stone he’d been using into the fold of his furs, thanked me again, and turned to climb down off the roof. I followed him to the edge and made sure my outstretched wing was still shielding him, even as he descended. Then we headed off for home together with him pressed against my flank where I could keep him dry and warm.

It may have taken me too long to realize how I felt, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t act on it. Already my mind was whirling, spinning plans and possibilities. It would have to be properly done, of course. Nothing but the best for Fishbone. Lucky for me, the first step would be easy enough. It was something I already did.

With my wing across his shoulders, I promised to protect him.

~

Treetops slapped at my wingtips as I struggled toward the colony with my burden. The deer was big enough to throw me off-balance and its antlers kept trying to swing up and stick me in the belly as I lurched through the air. I set down in the big open space in front of our night-nest, careful not to damage my prize. My chest heaved as I took a moment to recover from the trip. Flying with my locked-tail is tricky enough without such a burden to worry about.

I nosed it around until it was laying on its side and I could inspect it one last time. There was nothing so splendid on the colony’s island, of course. Not with a flock of our size eating everything in sight. This deer had been on a big island toward the rising sun, getting big and fat with no one to bother it. It had taken forever to find. I had managed to kill it by dropping onto its neck, using my weight instead of my claws to keep it perfectly intact. It looked as though it might spring up and run off into the forest if I wasn't careful.

Feeling terribly pleased with myself, I pulled in my teeth and gently wrapped my jaws around the deer's middle. I lifted my head high so it wouldn’t drag and headed down the path toward Fishbone's day-nest. I could have flown there directly, but then I would be denying myself the chance to show off my offering. Any other dragons that had their eye on Fishbone needed to know how well I planned to feed him, almost as much as Fishbone himself did.

I got the reaction I was looking for. Single dragons caught sight of me and their wings drooped in dismay. Mated dragons looked to their partners, suddenly appraising. I may have strutted, a bit. An alpha is allowed to strut. No one tried to steal the deer from me.

Privately, I began to wonder if my offering might be too good, especially for so early in the courtship. I had been hunting for days and I had found what must have been the biggest, fattest deer on the island. Fishbone would naturally want to outdo it with his own gift and I didn't see how he was going to manage it. Perhaps I should have started with a nice shiny rock, and saved the deer for last to seal my victory. I shook the thought away as I neared my destination. The deer wouldn't be fresh if I tried to save it for later, and I wouldn’t be able to find another as nice. Besides, Fishbone was clever. He could come up with something.

One of the marks of Fishbone’s status, even before he became an alpha, is that he gets to keep two nests. The night-nest is the big one at the top of the colony that we had once shared with his sire, where we sleep and play and look out over our domain. It's in a good place for everyone to find us when there's trouble.

But the day-nest, nestled in the heart of the colony where he can be most useful, is where my Fishbone works wonders.

Most dragons know that the mountains have bones, rivers of shiny rock that flow up from the depths to sparkle and glitter. Sometimes we pry them out to line our nests, or as gifts to win our mates. Somehow Fishbone has learned the secrets of these special rocks. He takes great piles of them and puts them in a fire so hot they start to melt and weep like ice in sunlight. Then he makes it freeze again into the shape of anything he wants. Teeth that bite through anything, or scales no claw can pierce. But he's at his best when he's making things full of little clever parts that move like living creatures. I'm certain he made all my tails at his day-nest.

It had occurred to me while I was hunting that the tails themselves may have been courtship presents. Each new replacement moved a little smoother, or weighed a little less, or did some clever trick. It spoke of the kind of eager, clumsy courting a juvenile might attempt, rushing over himself with better and better presents without giving his partner a chance to reciprocate.

Eventually I decided that wasn’t the case. Whenever Fishbone comes to me with a new tail, he always makes sure it’s comfortable for me, but he never seems to be waiting for my approval or praise. The gleam in his eye would speak of a challenge overcome, or of work to be done. He makes the tails to improve his own skills as much as for my benefit.

I paused outside the entrance to savour the heat of the fires rolling out to meet me. I gave myself one last-minute inspection to make sure I looked my best, then I held the deer up high and strode in. I heard Fishbone before I saw him, using one shiny tooth to smack another into the proper shape before it had completely hardened. He saw me and turned to greet me, eyes wide in surprise at my burden. It took all the restraint I had to approach him with the proper ceremony and lay down my offering. Even so I wriggled all over in anticipation.

With the deer at his feet, I promised to provide for him.

~

I spent the rest of the day sulking near our night-nest, watching my hard-won gift go to waste.

Yet another man arrived to take away a chunk of the rapidly-dwindling carcass and I bit back a moan of frustration and despair. It was one thing to have an offering rejected by a potential mate, but it hurt just as much to have it not even be recognized as an offering in the first place -- more, actually, because I had no idea what to do about it. Certainly Fishbone had been happy to receive the deer, had scratched and petted and praised me. But he’d only thought I'd been doing my part to feed the island. He hadn't realized I’d meant the deer for him alone.

I didn't stir as a pair of big male humans sauntered by, laughing their strange hooting laugh. I tolerated a friendly pat on my shoulder. If nothing else, I've found a way to patch things up the next time my dragons break something important. Everyone likes deer in their belly.

I eventually grew thirsty and shifted myself to get a drink from the pond. A thought occurred as I caught the reflection of my stern, preoccupied eyes in the water: What if Fishbone didn't think he was worthy to be my mate?

Arching my neck to preen a bit, I considered the possibility. It made a certain amount of sense. I was fairly magnificent, all glossy black scales and sleek, elegant ridges. I concentrated and brought up my inner-fire, admiring the way the light from my glowing hide danced on the water and made me look even more splendid. If Fishbone didn't think he measured up, he may have made himself willfully blind, deliberately failing to see my advances.

But the more I thought about it the less sense it made. Fishbone was every bit my equal, and he had to know it. Even though he was scrawny, he had earned a place as alpha of his people; and he’d done it not with strength and fear but with kindness and cunning. They didn't follow because they thought he would —or even could-— hurt him, they followed because they knew his leadership would see them safe and victorious. Surely he knew how impressive that was. In the end, I decided it made more sense that he was simply unaware of my feelings.

And besides, Fishbone was always so happy when his people and mine cooperated, and what was mating but a vow of lifelong cooperation? He’d obviously jump at the chance, once he knew I was offering.

Reassured, I returned to Fishbone's day-den and took up my customary spot on the roof to mull the matter over some more. As I settled in to enjoy the warmth of the fires on my belly, I noticed movement further up the slope. Fishbone's subordinates had emerged from the Big Cave and were heading into the forest on some errand of idle mischief. The only one missing was the beta, a friend of Fishbone’s who had more sense than to waste time in such a way. I rankled for a moment that they were acting without their alpha's blessing, but I'd found that Fishbone didn't usually care about that kind of thing, so long as they were around when we needed them.

I liked Fishbone’s beta. She complimented his leadership well. She was always springing into action when he took too long to think, or breaking up little disputes before they needed to involve him. And she was always first to his side when he needed aid. I wondered, idly, if I could get her to help me. Surely she wanted to see her alpha happily mated.

The sight of them got me thinking. Gossip among my wingmates held that one of the females —the only one currently present— was being competed over by two of the males. She was being fickle about it, but for the moment the fat one had the advantage. It had sparked a lengthy debate between Stoneskull and Snag-Teeth regarding whether this was to be allowed, and who should be giving courtship offerings, and what they ought to be. Snag-Teeth had been offended that no one was showing any interest in the male twin, while Stoneskull had argued that it left the two-headed dragon with one to spare. He needn't be so fussy in his negotiations if he had another rider to consider.

In the end, nothing had come of it. The dragons had given their blessing when it became clear the humans didn't know to ask for it, and the courtship had progressed without many gifts given on either side, it seemed. I remembered being curious at the time, surprised by the lack of propriety. How else would you go about it?

Now I was more than curious. Even as I watched, the two in question lingered back from the group to exchange a caress of hands and a tender smile. They broke off from the others and I felt my ears perk as a brilliant idea struck me.

If Fishbone didn't know dragon courtship when he saw it, maybe I could woo him like a human.

~

The growing shadows among the man-roosts were my shelter, hiding me from my quarry. Flying would have been easier, but, even though Fishbone locks up my tail so I can fly on my own when we’re apart, I’m always a little loud and clumsy without him. Besides, I would have a better view from the ground.

The couple were moving together along the seaward edge of the colony. I slunk behind, always just out of sight, blending into the darkness like the master hunter I am. And if a human or two tripped over me as they went between the nests, it was hardly my fault.

The island was never terribly large, but with three dragon flocks —to say nothing of the humans’ swelling numbers— it was sometimes hard to find a place to yourself. The fat male had managed it, though. He pulled her through a gap in the nests, then through a little patch of trees. It was too narrow to get through and I had to go around. By the time I found them and hid to watch them from the bushes, they were both sitting on a rock and watching the sun descend.

He sidled a little closer, and she cast about to make sure no one was watching before resting her weight against him. They talked for a long time, resting their weight against one another and gently stroking their hands against the other’s leg or face or hands. Every now and then they would look away from the lowering sun to stare into each other’s eyes, then lean in and touch their lips together.

It seemed straightforward, from what I could see. Privacy, constant touching, gentle conversation. I could do all that. More or less.

The more I watched, though, the more I felt a crawling horror of recognition. I had seen this behaviour before. It was the same way Fishbone would cavort with his beta, the yellow-headed female. The closeness, the cuddling, the touching of lips. I had thought it was some sort of bonding ritual, like grooming or racing, and that only she got to do it with him because she was his second. What I’d taken for loyal service had been a courtship all along!

Mind whirling, I sat down hard on my haunches. In hindsight it explained a lot, like the change in Fishbone’s behaviour in her presence, always trying to preen himself when she wasn’t looking. Clearly he was aware of her courtship, and had been responding.

I snorted my irritation and the couple squawked in surprise and alarm, glaring at me through the fading light for interrupting them. I must have killed the mood because the female dashed off and Fishbone’s fat subordinate croaked at me in reproach. It didn’t matter. I’d seen enough. I untangled myself from the bushes and stormed away before Snag-Teeth could come by and complain at me for interfering.

I grumbled at the unfairness of it all. What did she have that I didn’t? She didn’t have glorious wings or mighty fire or even a proper set of teeth! She didn’t need Fishbone like I did, didn’t complete him. All she had was being the same species as Fishbone. And being able to bear his pups for him. And being female, which apparently he preferred. And the fact that she had been pursuing him for years already, right under my nose.

Drat.

Did human courtship really take so long? I had thought Snag-Teeth’s female had only been taking her time to let the males fight over her, but even with no competition Fishbone’s beta had been after him for ages. The thought was disheartening, and it meant I had a lot of time to make up for. Dragon courtship could be over in a day, with a bit of luck. A moon at the very most.

It didn’t take long for me to track down Fishbone, but to my endless irritation he was already talking with her. He barely had time to chirp a greeting before I’d shoved my head between his legs and tossed him up onto my back. I spared the usurper one last baleful look and dashed off toward the forest, Fishbone squawking in protest all the way.

I scrabbled and half-flew up the great stone spire that stands above our colony, outrunning the line of darkness creeping up it as the sun went to bed. Eventually Fishbone managed to swing himself around to work my tail properly, so I was able to fly us up the very top. It’s not as useful a lookout as you might think, since it’s so high above the nest you can’t actually see anything properly. But it’s private and it lets us see the sunset setting the ocean on fire, and it’s somewhere Fishbone’s beta could never have brought him

Talking to humans, even the clever ones like Fishbone, is almost never worth it. For anything but the most basic, obvious of messages you have to be loud and slow and clear and it still takes forever for them to understand anything. It must be just as frustrating for them, yammering away all day making no sense.

To deal with humans you have to show them. Grab them and drag them off if you have to, do some ridiculous dance, anything to make them understand. So I shook Fishbone off my shoulders and plunked him down beside me so we could watch the sun go to bed.

He kept ruining it by trying to move, but I only had to snarl at him a few times before he learned to sit still enjoy the view. He’s very clever, when he isn’t being stupid.

When I judged we had stared at the sun for long enough, I turned to him and scooped him up in my front paws and looked deep into his eyes. I didn’t stop when he babbled at me, and I didn’t let him wriggle away. Eventually he sighed, resigned, and caressed the spot between my eyes, murmuring bewildered affection.

Then, as the sun kissed the horizon and all the colours flared to their brightest, I closed the distance between us and pressed my lips to his.

I let the kiss linger for a moment like I’d seen with the other couple, then pulled back. I pondered the experience. It had been a little strange, but very intimate. It left my lips tingling. I decided I liked it.

He had peeped in surprise and gone stiff in my embrace at the first touch of my lips. Now he blinked at me, gaping like a fish. But he didn’t scold me for my boldness or try to get away. He touched his lips and murmured to himself, then scritched me under the chin. I decided to call it a victory.

I abandoned my sleeping-slab that night and poked and prodded Fishbone until he let me climb into his pile of furs with him. It wasn’t the first time, but usually I only bother him about it when something bad has happened and I want to make sure he’s safe even in sleep. It was something I had that the yellow-headed female didn’t, to curl up around Fishbone and croon him to sleep, letting him know he was safe and loved.

And even though he squirmed and complained, I knew that Fishbone liked it. He drifted off in the crook of my arm without any of his usual tossing and turning, and I got to feel his heartbeat against my paw as I went to sleep myself.

~

I made sure to follow him closely the next few days, taking lots of extra time to be affectionate toward my prospective mate. He seemed nonplussed at first, but I knew that deep down he liked the attention.

Courting like a human is a lot less stressful, even if it does take too long. No worrying about gifts or competing or showing off. Just a lot of cuddling and petting and reassurance. I was getting better at kissing like a human, too. I was sure of it. Fishbone barely protested at all anymore, though I was careful never to do it whenever anyone is around so he didn’t get jumpy. Privacy is very important to humans.

And even though it sometimes pained me, I was careful, so careful not to push too hard. There has never been a better friend than Fishbone. Even if he wouldn't have me as his mate I didn’t want to lose that by scaring him, by making him think I would ever do anything to hurt him.

Things went on like that for a little while. Fishbone eventually got used to my hovering, and stopped resisting my displays of affection. I even learned to help him in his day-nest, using my flame to soften mountain-bones that were cooling before he wanted them to. Then at night we would curl up together in his bed, another change he had given up fighting. My sleeping slab had fallen into such disuse that Fishbone had started using it to store odds and ends.

It was a good routine, and I felt I was making progress, if only slowly. Then, one night, everything changed.

Fishbone was fidgeting in his sleep, despite how late it was, and it was keeping me awake. I tightened my forelegs around him and murmured to be still. Our days were busy enough without our nights being restless as well.

Eventually I paused to listen to the particular rhythm of his breathing, to feel the oddly regular movements of him against me. Fishbone was awake. I craned my neck to look at him properly and saw he was tracing the thick scales of my forelegs with his fleshy claw-digits, lost in thought. I bumped his ear with my nose and whuffled, trying to soothe whatever was bothering him. His eyes flicked up to me and he murmured an apology, reaching up to caress my face. There was a moment of pleasant stillness between us, listening to the night-sounds of the colony and the closer heaving of each other’s breath. Then Fishbone jerked forward and pressed his lips, briefly, to mine.

For a moment I froze. Then I gave him my longest, happiest croon as something unwound deep in my breast, a tension I hadn’t even realized I carried. Finally, finally, he had come around. I rubbed my forehead against his, slurped my tongue across his face, fluttered my lips against his again. He laughed and batted at me, grabbing my by the sides of my head to keep me still for another, longer kiss. We stayed like that for a few moments, getting used to the new intimacy. Then he laid back on the bed and I followed, cuddling in close and crooning.

With my nose buried in against his throat, I inhaled his subtly-changing scent and made up my mind. There was a time for hesitation, for being tentative, and this was not it. I rolled, bringing myself over him, watching him swallow as I dwarfed him in the bed. Crooning my affection, I gently brushed my paw along his belly, working it in slow circles. On one pass my paw slipped beneath his false-hide, and he shivered at the touch of my scales along his ribs, his scent sharpening further. The new knowledge made me smile. So much more sensitive without the skins.

A few insistent tugs on the garment before he got the message, squirming around my kisses long enough to wriggle out of it and toss it aside. Immediately my attention went to the newly-bare parts of him, but he tensed. Too far, too fast again. But I only slowed, I didn't stop. With tender care, I pressed my nose, then my tongue against his breastbone. I roamed my paws over him the way I thought a human might, all smooth, easy motions. At every step I listened. If Fishbone made any sound of protest I would withdraw. But if he didn’t…

If he didn’t stop me, I was going to show him exactly what he did to me.

My hindlegs stepped off the bed as I nuzzled and petted my way down his body. I think I knocked over his spare foot, but neither of us paid it much mind. For my part, I was too busy dragging my nose along the trail of little hairs on Fishbone’s belly. They led into a shallow little hole that made him squawk and thrash when I poked my tongue into it. I filled my nose with his scent as it changed, stronger and mustier than before.

I climbed properly onto the bed with him again, wings extended to help me balance above him on the soft, uncertain surface, stirring up the smells of fur and straw and enticing little human. Fishbone protested, but only until I got far enough up to sit on his legs. Then he stared. Following his gaze, I saw he was staring at my member, emerged from my slit and bobbing above his belly. He looked a little astonished, which made me preen and waggle it for him. I pawed at the skins he wore over his legs and mewled. I wanted to see him, too.

He resisted, but only a little. Then he was fumbling to shed the skins, moreso than he might have been normally since I didn’t feel like getting off his legs. I tilted my head when he was done. I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting, but I was still surprised. Everything was so little, and it was all on the outside. I prodded his member, hard as it was, to confirm that yes, he didn’t even have a slit to hide it in when he wasn’t using it. I huffed in amusement. No wonder they cover themselves up.

Then I realized, belatedly, that Fishbone was hard, that he had gasped and shuddered when I’d poked his maleness. Gingerly, I poked it again, letting the rough top edge of my claw trail along the underside of his member.

He arched his back and squirmed, and the sound he made! It burrowed into me and made me feel warm and proud and almost hungry. It made my member surge and spatter Fishbone’s thigh with slick juices. I adjusted to get a little more comfortable and out malenesses brushed against one another, drawing a hiss of pleasure from both of us. I pressed forward so it would happen again and didn’t want to stop. I gave him my best, happiest smile and wiggled forward until we were pressed flush against each other. I realized that this part of human courtship wasn’t all that different than it would be for dragons.

With my flesh against his, I promised to give him pleasure.

I rolled my hips, pressing Fishbone into the nest of furs and dragging a hiss of pleasure from both of us. He looked wide eyed and uncertain so I crooned reassurance as I bore down with tender pressure. His member was as little as the rest of him, but it still made for lovely friction as I ground against his soft, soft skin. I hunched over him and waggled my tongue down at him. It felt so good!

He mewled and wriggled back up against me, legs thumping my flanks as he called my name, again and again. Thump-Hiss, Thump-Hiss. He wrapped his forepaws around my girth and this clever little claws that work miracles seemed to pounce on every tender spot I had.

Something was building, deep in my belly. It made me shiver and moan and drop to all fours above Fishbone. With my legs surrounding him like a cage, I bore down on my little lover, sliding my shaft across his soft belly in long, loving strokes. His little paws scrambled to keep up, dancing along my length and keeping our members rubbing against each other. If I was far enough forward, sometimes his hips would press forward and his member would press just right against a pleasure-place at the base of my own.

Something sparked inside me and I felt my teeth come out. I arched my back and bellowed at the ceiling as my climax hit, rolling in wonderful waves from my belly in both directions along my spine. My pride surged and my seed spilled out against Fishbone’s paws and belly, and then I lost track of anything as pleasure overwhelmed me and I did everything I could to bear down on him, to get more!

The tension left me all at once and I could breathe again, hollow and dazed. I commanded my bones to move and after a moment they obeyed. I had to twist a bit to look down at Fishbone, and when I did I had to stifle a laugh. He was laying stock-still, breathing hard, staring up at me in a daze and still gripping my softening member. His chin and chest were plastered with my seed. I guess I must have surprised him.

Crooning my affection, I gently extracted myself from his grip and leaned in to lick him clean. I began under his chin, and rather than chirp and push me away like he usually does, he gave a low moan and arched into my tongue. He only got louder as I worked across his bony chest, and I grinned to myself. When I reached the junction of his chest I let myself hower and watch. Fishbone was still hard, straining up toward my muzzle. The poor thing must not have climaxed when I had.

Fishbone was watching me now. I opened my mouth and he swallowed. I let my tongue flop out and waggle and he stopped breathing. Then I touched the very tip of my tongue to the very tip of his member and he moaned and bucked, little maleness surging. I blinked as a dollop spattered my nose, the rest getting his belly messy again or running down his shaft. It was all right that he had gotten it on me. It smelled like Fishbone, and it meant I’d done a good job pleasuring him.

I curled myself around him as he panted, ignoring his protests and the mess still covering him. We could clean up later. Life was too good to worry about being a little sticky. I burrowed my nose into the crook of Fishbone’s neck and told him how happy I was. We had mated! Sort of. Close enough. We could figure it out properly later.

For now, it was late and we had worn each other out. I turned Fishbone around so he could rest his head on my foreleg and together we faded into sleep.