A Perverted Path to Victory

Tinvel

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As Chona wiped her eye clean, occasionally refreshing the rag with water from his canteen, Tinvel had to bite back a veritable storm of apologies. Even in the dark firelight, he could see the redness blossoming in her eye. He felt absolutely terrible, just awful, but with an ultimatum like she’d given, he had all the motivation in the world to keep his tongue.

After a minute or two of dabbing the wet cloth at her eye, she finally set it aside, looking up at him.

She was a… sight. Tinvel’s heart, which had never really calmed, began to thump harder once more. Legs folded beneath her, sarong pulled high up her thighs, and her chest bound by that red silken wrap she took so much pride in. Her black fur was mussed up and tangled along her bare stomach from the way she’d pressed herself up against Tinvel’s body as they moved against and with one another. Considering the usual care she took to brush her coat smooth, if only with her fingers, the sight of her dishevelment felt touchingly intimate, as if highlighting the privacy of the moment, where none but they were present to see it.

What got his heart going the most, however, was her smile. She had a wide, toothy grin, a flash of white in the night. She was grinning more than Tinvel was, and she wasn’t even the one who’d just been jerked off.

“It sounded like that felt good,” she said, still grinning.

He swallowed. “Um. Yeah, it did.” He opened his mouth to say more, found nothing immediately forthcoming, and scrambled for whatever he could come up with. “It was, um, really good. T-thank you?”

Chona threw her head back and laughed. Not a mocking laugh, or a cruel one, but a regular old happy laugh, like he’d just told a joke that had taken her by surprise. He sat there for a moment, awkward, but when she kept laughing, it seemed to prove infectious. It was ridiculous, wasn’t it? She’d just… done that, and now here he was, thanking her? Tinvel began to chuckle. He was grateful, that was technically true, but being grateful didn’t really fit for what had just happened, did it? He laughed, at first just because Chona was laughing, then at himself, and then at the mere fact they were both laughing, for no better reason than it just felt nice to laugh with her.

After a long while of them both sitting there in the dark, laughing loudly in one another’s company, the chuckles began to subside. Chona wiped a tear from her eye, shaking it off.

“Woo! Sorry, sorry, I knew what you meant, it was just…”

“Not really a ‘thank you’ kind of situation, was it?” Tinvel giggled.

“Not really,” she said, laughing again. Recovering herself, she blew out a breath. “Now. Like I said, you get to return the favor. Come here.”

Tinvel slid forward, using both arms to drag himself over to her, but he hesitated before he got very far.

“Chona, I m-mean,” he stammered awkwardly, “I don’t really know what to do.”

“You think I did?” She countered. “You told me what felt good, I listened to you, and it ended up working.” She put her hands around his wrists, pulling him towards her. “Look, it’ll be fine. I’m not going to let you get away from this. You owe me one now.”

Tinvel let out a nervous half-laugh. “I owe you one? I thought you said you were going to let me return the favor.”

“That’s just— oh, shut up, Tin.”

Chona pulled him in, dragging his hands behind her waist, where her tail curled tightly around his wrists. Her hands went to his shoulders, catching him just before he could slam his forehead into her face, guiding him into a kiss that took him utterly by surprise.

It was a different kind of kiss. One that he didn’t think they’d done before. Her tongue flicked out right away, diving between his lips just like it had on that beach a few short weeks ago, but without the desperate hunger that had defined that night. She tilted her head into it, a satisfied hum blowing out of her nose and across his face as her fingers curled into his shirt, keeping him pinned in place as her tongue pressed against his. Every time they’d kissed like this before, it had been passionate and fast, when they’d grown too impatient for anything else.

This was… calm. Relaxed. Intimate in a way he hadn’t been ready for. Chona pressed tighter and then let off, her soft lips occasionally breaking contact for a moment or two, returning to the embrace quickly. She was happy to explore the sensations at her own pace, satisfied with the simple pleasure of their touch, taking her time to feel his body. Tinvel never would have thought it would be the case, but somehow, unbelievably, the slow, deep kiss was as debilitating as any of their most passionate moments.

Almost against his will, he found himself falling further into her, his weight slowly tugged forward. She kept pulling on his shoulders, her fingers stretching and shifting, massaging his muscles, one hand sliding up to his shirt collar and then down again, fingernails grazing against his back. At first he was leaning forward into her, then resting against her, and then their chests were pressed together, rising and falling as they brushed against one another. He could feel her breasts pushing into him, her nipples hard beneath her wrap.

Still kissing him, Chona’s other arm came up, wrapping around his neck. She began to tip backward, as if trying to pull away from him, but she never let him go. His head abuzz with static, he didn’t spare a single thought for the way he followed her down. Pulling away would have meant breaking contact with her, and that was impossible.

Chona didn’t turn aside as they drifted downward. With her arms clinging tightly to him, Tinvel found himself pressing down atop her, their bodies stacked in the cramped confines of the cockpit.

It was, ultimately, the realization that almost all of his weight was atop her that gave him the mental strength to break away. He pulled back, breaking the kiss.

In the shadow of the cockpit walls, half-lit by the flickering fire, Chona’s darkened face stared up at him. He could feel her hot breath rolling across him, their eyes locked together.

Her tail uncurled, releasing his wrists.

Tinvel didn’t know what to do. He could feel his heart thumping hard, jumping skin mirroring the fluttering coming off Chona’s chest. He stayed still for a long time, their bodies pressed together.

“Tin,” she whispered. Her hips shifted upward, pushing against him. “Come on. I’m getting impatient here.”

When Tinvel licked his lips, he could still taste Chona on them. His heart kept pounding, rattling his ribs so hard it should have hurt, sending blood roaring through his head.

She shifted to the side, sending him sliding down beside her. Rolling onto her side, she tucked herself into the curve of his body, pressing her butt against him, tail sandwiched between them.

“I just… don’t want to screw up,” he whispered.

“It’s okay,” she said. “Just take it slow, alright? We’ve got all the time in the world.”

As her tail fell down to curl over his leg, one of her hands went back to his wrist. He shivered slightly as she tugged it into place, leaving his hand resting at the top of her ribcage, just beneath her chest wrap.

Her fur was… soft. Silky and smooth, it lacked the stiff roughness he’d become familiar with on the rest of her body. He wondered why that was. Because her stomach didn’t get rubbed against things often, maybe? Or was it just natural for Vanara to have the fur across their torso softer than the rest? Was it like that for humans? Tinvel had never had chest hair. He barely had leg hair. He didn’t know.

For once, his ever-wandering mind didn’t distract him for long. He was too entranced by the feeling of Chona against his palm. He stroked his hand back and forth, rubbing her gently, marveling at the feeling.

Chona sighed, a low, breathy sound that made something in his stomach clench.

Oh. Is that what she was talking about? The sounds I made?

Nothing quite changed about him to make him do what he did. He didn’t feel particularly brave, or suddenly lose his fear, or anything impressive. It just finally sank in that his hand, considering exactly where Chona had placed it, had been provided an open invitation to visit other nearby regions.

His heart pounded in his throat as he moved upward. When the silk of her wrap slid against the tips of his fingers, he paused, waiting.

She didn’t use words, but her answer was clear. With a pleased murmur, Chona’s body wiggled backward, her butt applying pressure to a spot that made him suck air through his teeth.

Tinvel continued upward. His entire body tingled with nerves, his arms threatening to give out on him, but he didn’t let them. He kept moving upward, first feeling the slight swell of her chest, which began to move upward, her silky black fur growing softer, yet thinner, with every creeping inch.

Chona let out a quiet, slight moan as his fingers finally found the peak of her breast.

“No fur…” He breathed.

Chona laughed quietly. “No,” she breathed. Her back arched into his touch. “Not there. If I had fur covering that, I wouldn’t even be wearing a top.”

Tinvel’s hand moved further forward, a light touch running across her nipple. “I… wouldn’t mind that,” he said.

Even in the darkness, he could see her sly smile. “I bet you wouldn’t. I’ve caught you looking before, y’know.”

If she’d said that any other time, Tinvel might have been embarrassed. With his palm resting across her breast, however, his only response was an ever so slight squeeze.

“Can you blame me?” His voice was wavering, like he was choked up and on the edge of tears, but he couldn’t imagine a time in his life when he’d been further from sad.

In response to his pressure, Chona made another noise he’d never heard from her. Not a loud, ecstatic groan, but a subdued, throaty moan, her eyes fluttering.

So soft, he thought, astounded. He felt warm all over, practically burning up, but his palm was absolutely afire. He squeezed and kneaded without conscious thought, utterly enchanted by it all. Chona’s chest. Her breasts. And the noises she made; he’d never even imagined those. In all his fantasies, he’d never fathomed being so taken by the mere sound of her. Now he was halfway convinced the moans were better than the feeling of her body against his.

“You can focus on the, ah, tip,” she said. “It feels a lot better when you… oh…”

Chona’s words dissolved into a soft moan as he followed her advice, her neck stretching as she turned away to bury her face in the crook of an arm. Tinvel kept rubbing at her nipple, lifting his head to watch her reactions. When he lightly rubbed across it, she would squirm, face twisting in hungry frustration. Pressing down harder earned a parting of her lips and a breathy exhalation. But it was when he took a nipple between his fingers and squeezed, just the slightest bit, that she truly reacted. Her spine curled, a stutter-starting moan filling his ears with its wonderful sound as her hands clenched and her legs twisted. The contortions of her body in such tight confines pulled another moan from him as her rear pressed into his crotch even harder, grinding against something that was, he discovered, not anywhere near as painfully sensitive as it had once been.

“You can… mmnh… go lower, too.”

Tinvel had been worried about that. He wanted to back away, to keep plucking and teasing at the most beautiful instrument he’d ever heard, but he fought that urge. She’d told him, hadn’t she? That she would tell him what worked? She was trusting him with this. He had to trust her, too.

“O-okay,” he breathed. “But first, I just want to…”

His other hand slipped behind her back, reaching to the point between her shoulderblades. Deft fingers picked apart her bindings, easily working through the knot.

Chona stiffened. The gentle curves that had been rolling against him turned to a cold wall as one hand went up to her chest, pinning the hand he had over her breast, keeping the silken wrap frozen in place. Tinvel froze as well.

“S-sorry,” he murmured urgently. “I just thought that since I was already, um, touching-”

Hearing the building panic in his voice, Chona unfroze slightly. “No, it’s fine, Tin,” she said. “Just, um, here. Let me do this.”

Her other hand came up, fingers twitching. Tinvel felt the spark of magic in the air and, before he could even bring his magesight to inspect it, watched the world go dark around them. An opaque wall, stopping nothing save light, was suddenly wrapped overtop the cockpit.

“There,” she said. “Sorry, it’s just…”

Chona trailed off into silence. Even that brief sentence had been uncharacteristically quiet, a slight tremor to her whispering. Her body, though softening, was still stiff against him.

Tinvel wanted to ask her questions, to assure her, to say whatever the right thing was, but he didn’t know what that would be. He thought about it for a while, letting them rest against one another, but came up with nothing. So instead he put his hand on her back, palm flat against the half-undone tie of her wrap.

“Okay,” he murmured. “That’s fine. Should I keep, um, going…?”

In the darkness, he heard Chona swallow, then felt her nod. “Y-yeah. It’s fine. Go ahead.”

Tinvel’s fingers returned to the binding, the dexterity of an artificer taking it apart in a brief few seconds. Though he felt her trembling slightly as she did so, Chona lifted her hand off the wrap.

He saw nothing, of course. But he felt the silk fall away from her chest, heard it rustle as it collapsed into a loose pile, and knew she was naked.

His body reacted in the natural way. Recognizing the beating of his heart and racing blood for what it was, he tried to shift away from Chona, but that was an exercise in frustration in the cramped cockpit.

Especially with the way Chona’s butt chased after him, shoving itself up against his returning erection. He bit his lip in an effort to hide the noise that pressure pulled from him, but it was pointless. They were too close together. There was no way she could have missed the half-whine he let out, much less the way he instinctively pressed himself up into her touch.

She didn’t comment on it, something for which Tinvel thanked the gods, though it was a mixed blessing, because she definitely didn’t ignore it. Even as he brought his other arm around, slipping it beneath her body so he could grab both her breasts, she kept pressing backward. Every time he touched her, pinching at one nipple or rubbing at another, she pushed even harder against his bulge, rubbing her sarong against the front of his pants. Her tail was curled all the way around his thigh, slipping through his legs, squeezing and moving in time to the attentions he lavished on her chest.

“Tin,” she eventually managed to breathe between soft sighs. “Tin, I know you’re having fun, but please. I’m getting so impatient here.”

He licked his lips, nervous as all the hells.

Chona could tell. She reached up and took his hand in hers, guiding it downward. They both shivered as his touch glided across her fur, down her ribs, the pads of his fingers tickling the fur over her stomach until, all of the sudden, his fingernails reached the edge of her sarong.

“Go slow,” she whispered. He couldn’t see her, but the way her voice shifted, he knew she had turned to face him. “Just… explore. It’s okay. It’s what I did. I’ll tell you if there’s something up, alright?”

Tinvel nodded silently, his chin rubbing against her shoulder. Steeling himself, he slipped his hand beneath the sarong.

It’s not as soft.

That was his first thought. The rest of Chona’s fur, which he’d slowly grown accustomed to in all its varieties, ranged from the texture of a silky pillow to human body hair, rough and coiled. As his fingers slid across the top of Chona’s pelvis, however, Tinvel felt the sensations shifting. From smooth and familiar, every inch had it turning stiffer and more wirey, like… like his own hair down there, he supposed. The moment he made that connection, he didn’t know why he’d expected anything different.

As the tuft of fur, hair, whatever it was, the name didn’t matter, but as it turned into a proper puffy cloud, Chona began to squirm, a different, more passionate gasp filling the air.

“Th-there,” she said. “Just a little bit further, then… press down… oh!”

The words broke apart into a noise of pleasure as Tinvel followed her instructions.

His touch landed on a part of her body that was warm. Wet. Two fingers pressed down on a little bump at the end of her hair, applying such a gentle pressure that he couldn’t believe the reaction it created. With the two of them laying against one another, he could feel every way her body twisted, a shudder running down her from head to toe.

“O-oh,” Chona breathed again. “O-okay. Gods, that’s…”

Experimentally, he rubbed his fingers in a small circle.

Chona sucked a hissing breath through her teeth. “M-man,” she stuttered. “You were right. That’s… that’s different. When someone else does it to you? That’s… oh.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, entranced. “And you were right, too. Those sounds…”

She made a small noise of protest. “Oh, gods, Tin, don’t say that. I don’t want to think about what kind of—”

He ran his fingers further down, off the tip of her sex, gliding along the edge of her lower lips.

Chona whined. A real, honest, whine. High-pitched and needy. It was… wonderful. It had his heart catching in his throat and his lower half aching, brushing away whatever remnant of satisfaction he’d had left.

She laughed slightly, though it was a shaky, breathless laugh.

“G-guess I can’t blame you,” she murmured, wiggling her butt against his erection. “Not with how wet I am right now.”

“Gods, that’s not helping,” he groaned, trying to move away from her teasing rub. There was nowhere to go, of course. “I’m trying to focus, y’know.”

“Don’t care,” she muttered. “If you get to hear me make those noises, I get to feel you liking them.”

He didn’t have an argument against that. It was fair enough. Instead of responding, he pushed one finger a little down, splitting her lower lips.

She wasn’t joking.

Chona was wet. Even when he’d been rubbing from above, he could feel the slick, hot liquid on the tip of his finger, but that was nothing next to actually pressing inward.

Chona’s back arched, her breath hitching. Tinvel slid his fingers up and down, trying to disguise the fact that he was searching for her entrance.

It was… not where he expected it. His fingers kept going low, lower, and lower still, and still he didn’t find it. It was only when his hand was all the way between her thighs, wrist clamped by her legs, that he felt something else.

Chona’s tail seized around his thigh, so tight for a brief moment that it actually hurt. Her hips twisted, as if trying to shake his hand away, but her legs shut even harder, keeping him pinned in place.

“O-okay,” she said. “That’s… yeah. Right there is…”

“Should I…?”

“Go a-ahead. Just be slow, remember?”

He began to dip inside. A single finger, slow as molasses, pushed into her.

Chona groaned.

She was hot. Hot to the touch, hotter than he would’ve believed. No wonder he’d felt that heat rolling off her she’d straddled his lap. It was like a furnace, the most comforting, welcoming furnace in the world, and he was barely an inch in.

Chona’s legs stretched, her stomach rolling, and she let out the sweetest, most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. He kept that same slow pace, exactly as she’d told him to, until his finger was all the way inside, buried in her pulsing warmth.

I can feel her moving, he thought, amazed. When Chona’s stomach clenched, he could feel her tightening around his finger, as if trying to suck him in deeper. But he was already to the knuckle. He started to draw himself out, preparing to do for her what she’d done for him, but when only the tip of his finger was left inside her, he was surprised by a tugging grip on his wrist.

“Th-that feels good,” Chona said, “but… um…”

She didn’t say anything further for a time. Tinvel didn’t know what she was thinking, couldn’t even fathom it, so he didn’t dare try and complete her sentence.

“So,” she said, “some girls, they, um…” She took a deep breath and tightened up her body, steeling herself in almost the exact same way she did before casting a powerful spell. “Some girls… don’t get much from stuff, uh, inside them. It’s nice, but that stuff, um, earlier… when you touched my… clitoris?”

So that’s what it’s called. Tinvel had only heard euphemisms before; bud, flower, jewel. He tucked the real word away, determined to not give away that he’d never known it.

“That’s what I touch when I’m, um… alone…” She swallowed audibly. “Having stuff inside doesn’t really do it for me. Not most of the time, anyway. So if you could…”

With a tantalizingly wet sound, Tinvel withdrew his finger entirely. Chona shuddered slightly, then stilled.

“Y’know,” he said, “you could have just told me that.”

He felt her fur prickle; a vanara blush. “Well, I mean, I’ve heard guys like to go inside, so…”

Tinvel held back a chuckle. “I’m pretty sure that what guys like to have inside isn’t their finger, Chona.”

“W-well!” She squeaked. Chona, the deadliest mage in Tulian save one, actually squeaked. “It’s not like we’re pressed for time, here. And it definitely didn’t feel bad.”

“But this felt better?”

Tinvel dragged his fingers back up, pointer and index together, and pressed down on her clitoris.

Chona gasped. Loudly. To experiment, he kept the pressure on, squeezing down on her.

For the first time in a long time, her hips lifted up off his crotch as Chona shoved into his hand, rubbing herself against his touch. He tried to follow her thrust, but his hand slipped away, making her gasp yet again.

“Gods,” Chona swore, forcing her hips back down. “Do it like that, but move some more. Little circles, or up and down.”

Pulse racing, Tinvel slipped his hand between her legs yet again. He was quicker to find her bud— clitoris— this time, and he quickly returned the pressure, now with a small spiraling motion.

Chona let out a long sigh, her body melting against his. He felt her neck crane to one side, shoulders twisting, and then her breath was against his neck, his collarbone, and then he felt her face. She rubbed her cheek against his neck, snuggling in with a little groan.

“Mmm,” she hummed, rubbing her head side to side. “That’s… oh, gods, Tin. Just… faster, a little bit faaas-teeerrr.”

Tinvel sped up, shattering her request into an eye-rolling groan. He could feel her getting more wet, somehow, something he couldn’t believe, and she began to thrust up against him, rutting into his hand.

It was… addictive. The sounds of her, the feel of her. Knowing that he was doing this to her. He still had one hand on her chest, her breasts, and he could feel the way her breath was picking up, her chest pushing up into his hand.

She moaned again as he began to use his other hand to massage her breasts, tugging at her nipple. Her tail spasmed slightly, then went limp along with the rest of her as her body collapsed, relaxing into him.

“O-o-o-oh f-u-u-u-uck,” she whined, a warbly plea to no one in particular. “Shit. Shit. Just like that, Tin.”

Tinvel knew that sound. The way her voice rose in pitch as she spoke, almost like a question, but kept going higher and higher. He’d been making those same sounds himself, just a little bit earlier. He sped up, pressing harder into her, trying to do for her what she’d done to him.

“N-no!” Her hips pulled away.

Tinvel immediately froze, terrified. She felt it on him, of course.

“That’s- shit, Tin, keep going, I swear to the gods-!”

“But-?”

“You’re fine, you’re fine,” she hastily assured him, “but when I say ‘just like that’, Tin, I don’t mean speed up, I mean just like that.”

“O-oh,” he said. “Okay. It’s just that I thought, y’know, because when I’m, um, touching myself, and I’m almost, er, done, it feels better to speed up-”

“N-not a guy, Tin,” she breathed. “Works different for me, I guess, now please keep going?”

He did. With two fingers swirling across her clitoris, he worked to find that exact pace once more. It wasn’t hard; that moment, the moment when Chona was moaning and cursing because of what he was doing, it was burned into his brain forever. It didn’t take more than twenty seconds before her chest was heaving once again, her breath coming in short, sharp breaths.

Everything, everywhere, it was all Chona. Whatever spell she cast to put them in the darkness, it wasn’t letting the outside world in. The scent of the jungle plains and roaring bonfire had been replaced by the intermingling of their bodies. He was sweating against her, his chest pressed to her fur, and he could feel her every exhalation rolling across his face. He pressed himself closer, into her shoulder, rubbing against the soft fur, and tweaked and teased at her nipple, all while keeping up a steady pace rubbing over her clitoris.

Who’d have thought an artificer’s hands would come in handy here?

Chona’s body slowly began to lose its limpness, replaced instead by a building, budding tension. He felt her tense up first in her tail, which tightened yet again around him, and then in her legs, which went rigid and straight, save for her peculiar vanara feet, which actually grabbed ahold of his ankles. Her spine went rigid, then melted, then rigid once again, matching the rhythm of her rolling hips and trembling shoulders.

As her panting grew hotter and louder, one of her hands went up to her chest, wrapping so hard around Tinvel’s fingers that it nearly hurt.

“O-o-oh gods,” she whined. “Fuck… fucking… shit. Just… so…!”

He loved it. He loved this. He‘d heard other guys talk before, about how they hated how selfish their girls could be, how they always wanted to get off without the guys ‘getting any’, and all of the sudden, Tinvel couldn’t understand what in the hell they were talking about. This was perfect. Perfection itself. His erection was throbbing, absolutely aching, even, but it wasn’t even a thought on his mind, because she was perfect. Every little bit, every little noise, it was the best thing he’d ever heard.

Impulsively, he bent forward, following Chona’s breath down to her mouth. Their lips met, cutting off her whine, and he found himself kissing her as hard as he could, their breath mingling together, drinking down her moans.

All of the sudden, Chona’s entire body went stiff.

“Mmmmghhhh!”

She began to shiver. Then shake. Her breath caught in her throat, a silent pause as she stood on the precipice, and then it all fell apart.

Chona came with a cry. He kept pushing down on her, kept touching her, and he loved it. She shook and moaned and groaned, her body rolling in a sinuous wave, grinding up against his crotch again and again, bucking into his hand. He felt tears wet her face as her hand clenched around his, crushing it, yet he didn’t even feel the slightest bit of pain, because he was, impossible though it may have seemed, lost in her climax.

Chona’s peak lasted longer than his did. He kept touching and kissing her the entire way through, giving her a firm touch to grind against. He stopped moving his fingers, letting her set the pace as she pushed and shoved against him, choking moans that nearly sounded like sobs filling the air.

She came down from the high slower than he had, he noticed. It wasn’t one blazing peak and then a sudden crash. Her gyrations slowed by degrees, every twitching thrust less than the last, a devolving process that took maybe half a minute before she finally stilled.

Only when her last aftershocks had faded did Tinvel stop kissing her. She immediately broke away, gasping for air, her entire body limp.

“That was… a lot better… than when I do it…”

Tinvel couldn’t hide the sigh of relief that he felt at hearing that.

She laughed, recognizing his response for what it was. “Really, Tin? You thought that I came like that every time I touched myself?”

He licked his lips. He could still taste her. Really, he hadn’t wanted to stop tasting her. Still, he answered with all the eloquence that was left to him in that moment.

“Um. I dunno. Maybe?”

“No,” she laughed. “No, Tin, no way. If it felt that good every time, I mean, gods…” she sighed wistfully. “I think I’d never get anything done. Like, ever.”

“So…”

A quick peck of a kiss brushed against his lips.

“Yeah, Tin. You did fine. It was…” she let out another sigh. “It was really nice.”

“Thank the gods for that,” he murmured.

“Pretty sure they don’t help two mages get laid, most of the time.” Her hand, still encircling his, squeezed him a touch. “It felt amazing. Really.”

“That’s-”

Her butt wiggled backward, pressing into his erection. His jaw clicked shut as he tensed, trying to stay quiet.

“I can tell you liked it, too,” Chona giggled. Then she hesitated. “Um. Is that going to, uh, go away, or…?”

It was reassuring, Tinvel reflected, to know that they were both figuring things out. “Eventually,” he said. “But it’s going to take a lot longer if you keep rubbing it like that.”

“Really? If I keep doing this?” She crooked her knees, shoving against the cockpit wall to help herself grind even closer to him.

Tinvel groaned. “Y-yeah. That. That’s what’s gonna cause the problems.”

She relaxed. “Okay. I’ll remember that.”

“Why do I feel like that’s a dangerous thing for you to be saying?”

She laughed ominously.

They spent a little while longer like that, snuggled to one another. Chona’s sarong had come undone, and Tinvel’s pants were still a mess. Neither of them wanted to get up, however. They kept their hug going, hand in hand.

Eventually, however, Tinvel felt compelled to do something. Chona had covered the cockpit for a reason; he wanted her to be comfortable. He reached blindly around the area until he found her silk chest wrap, then put it against her chest.

“What are you doing?” She whispered. He was surprised by how tired she sounded.

“Putting your wrap back on,” he whispered back. “So you can get rid of the spell.”

She stayed silent for a time while Tinvel worked. Then, some conclusion reached, she grabbed his hand.

“It’s okay. The spell’s a long-term cast. It’ll last until morning, so you can… leave it off.”

He paused. “Are you sure?”

Rather than answer with words, her hand tugged at his. He let himself be guided, down and down, until he found himself…

Cupping her breast?

She’d placed his hand on her left breast, palm resting overtop. Then, adjusting herself, she moved her arm in such a way so that he could even rest his hand atop it, keeping her close, without even having to lift his hand himself.

“Yeah,” she said eloquently. “Um. Good night, Tin.”

There was no way she couldn’t tell how surprised he was. Still, she said nothing more, so he recovered himself, nodding slightly.

“Thanks. I mean-”

She laughed.

“I meant good night!” He insisted.

“And thanks? For letting you feel me up?”

“That’s… yes?”

“Well, you’re welcome. You earned it.”

“Y-yeah. Uh, good night, Chona.”

“Good night.”

The next little while passed in silence. Just their quiet breaths mingling together. Tinvel did his best to fall asleep.

Then, after about ten minutes or so, Chona spoke up.

“So… grabbing my boob probably isn’t helping that go down, is it?”

“No.”

“Sucks.” Her hips wiggled slightly, adjusting herself so she was pressed even tighter to him. “G’night.”

“Screw you, Chona.”

She giggled.

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