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Rated: XGC · Short Story · Erotica · #782969
He's afraid to show his wild side, but she's not afraid to see it...
CODE: M (set in the Manitou Island storyline)

TAKES PLACE DURING (specific story): Both scenes NA (after Manitou Island, prior to Return To Manitou Island)

PAIRING: Justin Dupries/Little Dove (M/F)

EXPLANATION: Potential spoilers. Justin Dupries, in the Manitou Island stories, at first had eyes for Red Bird, the mate of Tal Natha...and all of these people are related, by the way. O_o *cough* Anyway. Needless to say, Justin and Red Bird did NOT end up together...so he had a brief fling with Shadow Water. That didn't last either, as it turned out that she was just using him, and his father ended up taking her away...yipes. Well, thoroughly disillusioned, Justin is later on approached by Little Dove, the youngest daughter of medicine man Stick-In-The-Dirt. Little Dove was someone whom Ocryx (Justin's father and taker-of-Shadow-Water) once had eyes for himself, long ago (see the non-erotic short story "Return To Me" for details). THAT did not work out, either...and I can't for the life of me figure out why Little Dove ends up stalking Justin, but stalk she does (okay, so she doesn't), and just about tricks him into marrying her. (To summarize: Justin: "We can't be together if we aren't properly married." LD: "Okay, so would you like to get married then?" Justin: "..." LD: "Great! I'll go tell Dad!" Justin: "What the hell...??" *cue wedding music*) Justin is not very happy with the arrangement at first, especially when Little Dove asks him if he'll...well...maybe you should read the piece. Little Dove is cheerful enough, though, and they eventually have two kids together, so all is not lost. I think Justin will come around, once he finally figures out what's going on. Like me. Who knew that sweet innocent Little Dove was so conniving?

"Guessing Game" is new as of September '04, and it seems that no matter what I do, Justin just won't be happy in this relationship! No idea what's wrong with the guy. o_o

DISCLAIMERS: In "Sex Change," I'm not sure if Justin and Little Dove actually had a church ceremony, or just a civil one; probably a civil one. Also, Little Dove doesn't tend to call him by his name, but maybe she grew out of that later on. And she does pretty much give up native ways for European.


* * * * *


Sex Change


As soon as the door closed, she lifted her eyes to his and smiled shyly. He smiled back, just slightly. He leaned his head down and their lips touched, tentatively at first, as if they had never kissed one another. It was hard to believe that it was now real, they were now each other's. As soon as they realized this their kiss grew more passionate, their mouths opening and tongues tasting, and she touched her hand to his face. He was suddenly aware of the heat of her body against his, and pain flared through him. He strode quickly for the bed they would share and laid her down upon the thick covering. She still wore her doeskin dress from the native ceremony they had had after the church ceremony. It fit her body perfectly, accentuating every curve, every valley. He ached on looking at it, forced himself to remain patient. He stood and worked on undoing his shirt, trying not to appear hasty. She merely continued smiling at him.

He'd expected her to be nervous, though frankly, she'd given him no reason to think that she would be. She had offered herself to him enough times before now; each time he had refused, although every refusal had been like searing coals poured upon him. He had been with only one woman before...Shadow Water...she who had gone to his father, to stay. He had to wonder if it was because they had not been properly wed, that their relationship had been one almost purely of lust, that it had worked out as it had. He refused for it to happen again. Thus when Little Dove had approached him, he had finally told her that he would not be with her unless it was proper in the eyes of God. She didn't seem to understand completely...but when he explained that she would need to be his wife, she had agreed.

"Of course," she'd said, with a bright smile. "You mean you wish me to marry you? I would do this, if you wish..."

It hadn't been quite what he'd meant...but he'd been unable to think of a way around it. He had to admit that her body was so tempting to him, especially after so long without Shadow Water...and at night when he tried futilely to sleep, in the first hour when heated visions would flood his brain, Shadow Water's image began to be replaced by Little Dove's. When one night he found himself stroking himself quickly as he thought of the daughter of the medicine man, he decided that perhaps marriage would be the best thing to ease his mind, and his body. Immediately after this thought he, unbidden, imagined her naked; this had succeeded in bringing him releasing upon the bed.

And so there had been the church ceremony, and then, just to settle it in his mind, the ceremony among her own people, after which he had brought her father her brideprice, hoping it to be enough. He knew that Stick-In-The-Dirt was reluctant to let her go, but the medicine man hadn't protested, had only embraced her sadly before she left him, to go back to his own household. They had decided that she would live with him. She would not give up her people, nor her ways, to become like his own kind; yet they would live under the same roof, for matters of convenience.

Right now these matters of convenience concerned the best and quickest way to undress. He removed his shirt but wasn't having much luck with his pants, in the dimness; she started giggling, and he flushed, glad that she couldn't see it. He gave her an awkward smile before pulling them down over his hips and the distinct bulge that rose between his legs. God, how he ached for her! He wasn't certain yet if he loved her...though her shape was good enough...and perhaps, he hoped, he would grow to love her, in time. For some reason, she seemed to love him.

He slipped off the rest of his clothing and dimmed the light until they were nothing more than silhouettes. This seemed to puzzle her--he knew that among her people, lovemaking was not necessarily something to hide--yet she said nothing. He came over her and felt her arms drape around him and his heart beat faster. Her lips pressed to his, and their bodies merged. He slipped his arms beneath her and they embraced, lips gently sucking.

For a short time, he was content to do just this. He ran one hand down to lightly cup her buttock, squeezing her gently and relishing the tremble of her body beneath him; with his other hand he caressed her side, slipping his fingers beneath the edge of her dress and slowly pulling it up. He expected a protest; he knew as well as all that she was untouched, had not even kissed another before him. She didn't protest. Her hand met his and brought it up. She let go of it and his fingers rested within curly hair; his breath sped up and he grasped at it, hearing her soft gasp. He kneaded slowly and let his fingers massage her swelling mound. They grew sticky. She was as excited as he was.

She shivered and pressed herself to him. Her lips moved to his ear.

"You...have been with a woman before...?"

He lifted his head to look at her for a moment. Her eyes were wide, dark, innocent. He ached, so much.

"...Yes. Once..."

She nodded slightly, as if she had expected his answer. Her hands locked behind his back and she sighed, nuzzling at his neck.

"I hope I can satisfy you..."

"Of course you will," he murmured, shutting his eyes. Anything will satisfy me, now...anything at all, God help me...

She shifted herself, slipped up her dress to her waist. He rose and helped her slip it over her head and tossed it aside carelessly, hearing her giggle. Their bodies touched again and he felt a shock course through him. Oh God, her skin!--it was so soft, and warm, and smooth against his own. Her breasts were small, her hips narrow; God, he hoped he wouldn't hurt her. He bent down and sucked one tender bud into his mouth to try to still the fury inside. She shut her eyes and let out her breath. He couldn't keep his hands from wandering over her body, and he massaged her quivering thighs. After some time she parted her legs, slightly.

His kiss moved up to her neck.

"I'm..." Her voice came very faint, a mere whisper. Her hands caressed his back. "I am ready, for you..."

He wanted to be certain. As heated as he was, as needful, he didn't want to hurt her. She was fresh, new, untouched...though he was not much bigger than she, he could tell that she was small, inside. He knew that it would hurt, perhaps much so. He didn't want to do that, no matter how great his desire. As his fingers gently eased their way inside her, testing, earning a soft whimper, he pondered. She didn't have to hurt, for long. As soon as he punctured her, he would heal her. Take away her pain. It could be as quick as a pinprick. Made more confident by this idea, he bit at her lips, ran one hand through her raven hair as it spilled loose upon the pillows, then traced a circle around her tight nipples. She gasped and arched.

"Justin...?"

"I'm coming," he whispered back. With one hand he gently parted her legs wider, felt her slight resistance before she submitted. God, let this work.

He pressed himself down to her, positioned himself between her legs, giving her time to get used to the feel of him. She squirmed a little bit; was she suddenly so nervous? Her breath was quick. He placed his fingers upon her labia to spread them open. She whimpered anew, but he knew that he couldn't give her time to reconsider. He was beyond all desperation by now. Luckily, she didn't fight. She spread her own thighs wide, just for him. He groaned softly and grasped his penis and moved forward, readying himself to heal her once he had entered.

"Justin..."

"I'm coming..."

The tip of his shaft buried itself inside her, then more, then more. Little Dove's face tightened and she bit her lip. Justin panted heavily as he moved forward, hips sliding. He felt a pressure upon him and kept pushing. It broke and he felt a warm gush of blood; Little Dove arched and cried out. He immediately placed one hand upon her belly and concentrated. She gasped again as the pain began to die. He could see her eyes, wide and surprised, staring at him. Blood still flowed from her freely, yet the pain itself was gone.

Their lips parted. "What..." she asked.

He touched his head to hers. "It's all right...I didn't want it to hurt you."

"Oh..." She shivered and smiled and hugged him again. "Husband Justin...caring about me so..."

For some reason, this ignited the lust in him to no small degree. He clenched her breast and straddled her hips, hooking one foot about her leg. With a hard grunt, he bucked forward, enjoyed the brilliant smile and sharp arch that she let out. Her fingers tangled with his and they began to rock slowly upon his bed, as man and wife.

* * * * *


Justine paused outside her son's room. She could hear murmuring inside, but nothing else; she knew how her son felt about the young native woman, and the other way around. Still, she'd hoped that it would work. Justin had been so lonely. He needed someone.

After a moment or two the murmuring stopped and she listened in vain for any sound. A while passed before a soft rhythmic sound came, what, she couldn't be certain. She held her breath and leaned down to peer through the keyhole.

She had to look around a bit, considering the darkness. After another moment, her eyes made out movement--two shapes--one lying down upon its back, the other above it. Little Dove lay still but giggling softly as Justin thrust into her, knees bent up, hips mounting her own, testicles tightening, buttocks clenching with each push. He panted heavily and on occasion bent down to lick at one willing breast. His young wife finally moved, squirming slowly and moaning as if trying to get him off, but in reality, doing no such thing. Their fingers twined and locked. They moved steadily.

Justine pulled away from the door. There was nothing to see here; they did what they felt they should do. She moved along the hallway to her own quarters.

* * * * *


Little Dove began to cry out on each push. At first he thought that he was hurting her, until he noticed the look upon her face, the lustful glaze within her eyes, and bent down to kiss her.

"I love you," he murmured, not certain if he meant it.

"I love you, Justin." Her arms around him were so very welcoming.

Her hips pushed against his, over, over. He felt that he could barely contain himself. The demon side of him began to grow, to rise; he bit his lip and fought it back. Not now! The thought was insane. He bit at his bride's shoulder, trying to be rid of the thought.

"J...Justin...?"

He opened his eyes. Little Dove blinked back at him almost sleepily. She smiled and stroked his face.

"I...I was wondering, if...if you could..."

She whispered to him, and he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"I heard...that you can...change...would you do this, while we make love...?"

"What?" he whispered in disbelief. She couldn't have said what he just thought she'd said.

She averted her eyes and smiled shyly. Her fingers pattered over his spine. "Into...into one of them. An Ocryx." She started giggling. "Please don't tell Father. But Ocryx, he fancied me for a time. I...I never went to him, but some nights I thought, and it was as if he brought me to be with him, I could see everything. I also...also wondered if he ever wished..." Her giggle grew, then subsided, and her eyes met his.

"I wished to feel it...what it feels like, how. I've wanted to for so long...can you change, for me?"

He blinked at her in disbelief. "Ch-change...? Into--into one of those--?"

A slight nod. "Yes...I was hoping...just to see what it's like."

His hips stopped moving. He pushed himself up to stare down at her.

"Why one of them? They're vicious brutes...why should you wish to couple with one, much less embrace...?"

She blinked and then reached out to him. "No, no, Husband! With you! You are not vicious...you are not a brute." She pressed her lips to his hand. She peered up at him uncertainly. "You're...afraid of it? Afraid of that part...?"

"No. Of course not." He averted his eyes with a barely concealed scowl. "It's just that...I hardly think you would enjoy it. They're...large brutes, and hideous."

"Ocryx isn't hideous. He was always kind to me." He looked at her and she smiled. "I know you would not be hideous, Husband...will you show me? Please?"

Looking in her eyes, begging his own, he felt his reserve melting. Truthfully...he had longed for some time to couple again in his Ocryx shape. But there had never been anyone willing, after Shadow Water...

His face grew dark. "You'd best prepare yourself for it."

Little Dove's eyes widened. Justin shut his own and took a breath. His limbs grew longer, stockier; fur grew from his body and his face elongated as well, ears lengthening, horns sprouting from his head. Wings rose from his back and a tail emerged from behind. By the time that he had completed his transformation, his bride stared up at him, stupefied. She blinked and said nothing.

He nearly scowled. I told you we were hideous.

"No!" she hurried to say, again. "No, this isn't it at all--I was--merely--surprised, is all..." Her gaze wandered up and down, and he could see now that she told the truth. Her eyes were not wide with fear, but with wonder. She reached out to touch him and her fingers stroked through the ruff of fur ringing his breast. They trailed down his belly and he snorted. She looked down and flushed when she saw that they had trailed over his swollen sheath, and drew her hand away with a shy smile.

"So...this is what you look like, when you are in this form, and when you are excited...?"

No... His breath picked up as the plump head of his penis slowly emerged from its constraints. This is what I look like.

* * * * *


It had been quiet, for a while. Lady Dupries sat in the parlor and crocheted. She still listened for any sound, to indicate whether her son and his wife were finished or not. She didn't wish to interrupt them, or to let anyone else do the same.

After a long while she heard a faint thump, and then another. There was silence, and then another thump, followed by a soft cry. She lifted her head and frowned, listening. The quiet made her ears ring, which was why yet another thump, and another cry, sounded all the louder to her.

Still frowning, puzzled and concerned now, she set her crocheting aside and headed toward the stairs. As she set foot on the first one she heard a short sob, and recognized Little Dove's voice. Was she hurt--? She picked up her pace and hurried up the steps to the top landing.

As she went down the hallway toward her son's room, the noises only increased. The thumping was regular now, a rapid sound almost as if someone hammered on a piece of wood. Every so often this was punctuated by one of Little Dove's high-pitched cries, each one sounding more pained than the last. She slowed her step as she came up to her son's door. It was as she'd hoped that it wouldn't be...the noises came from within. Little Dove gave a tiny, short scream, and her heart tightened on itself. Mixed with all of this now was a loud, rapid grunting. What could he be doing to her--? Not wishing to see, she bent down and peered in again anyway, biting her lip.

Little Dove bit her lip as well. Her fingers clutched the pillows as she knelt, head tossed back and hair trailing over her slender shoulders. Her whole body trembled. Her hips had been pried apart, and now a great, hulking, dark shape loomed over her, thrusting into her steadily. Little Dove cried out and arched; her tiny breasts peaked and her thighs quivered. Lady Dupries now recognized the strange dark beast coupling with the young woman.

Justin--!

He was in his Ocryx form, his demon form. As such he dwarfed his new bride, his great hands upon her hips clenching mercilessly into her tender skin. She rode high upon his extended shaft, and his tight sac slapped against her skin rhythmically. His claws dug into the bed, tearing the sheets. The bedclothes were already stained with her blood, and his fluids. A thick Ocryx-reek filled the air. Judging by the screams she let out, Lady Dupries could tell that she was in pain; yet she offered no resistance, even arching and moaning for her husband, and as their mating moved along, she finally allowed him to scoop her up into his arms, so they both knelt upright, he clutching her to him tightly, enveloped in his strong arms. They rocked and writhed together this way, his head falling back, her body pressing to his, he growling and she moaning. Her hands moved up and down his sides, ruffling his fur; she slipped one down to caress his testicles. Justin jerked and whimpered.

"Husband..." Little Dove whispered. Her eyes were shut tight, her back curving so her buttocks pressed against his groin. He clasped her buttocks, drew her onto him.

"Little Dove..."

She shivered wildly and gave a soft cry. "Please, Husband...I feel a fire inside me, in my belly..."

"This is normal...this is what you feel, when you make love to another..."

"Please then, dear Husband, help me relieve it...it hurts so..."

He responded by grasping her hips and plunging himself upward steeply, tongue lolling between teeth, his lover screaming in pain and joy. Little Dove bucked against him and then quivered. She clutched his hands and he bent himself over her, covering her breasts. His climax lasted so long, spurting fire inside her. Eventually it began to die, and they both began to sink, panting and exhausted. Justin kept his Ocryx form to take hold of Little Dove and cradle her to him. They slowly relaxed to the bed, both curled up against each other. She nestled her head against his breast, relieved tears streaming down her face, and he silently licked them away.


Guessing Game


Justin lay staring at the canopy, one arm pillowing his head. Several times he shut his eyes, only for the dream to keep returning. Sometimes he felt certain that the Dreamspinner sent him such things out of spite. He could think of no other reason why he would dream of mating with either Shadow Water or Red Bird. Both women had been lost to him long ago, and he'd accepted that, for the most part. They had both chosen Ocryxes as their mates, and that still stung him somewhat, but he could accept it. What he couldn't understand was why he still dreamed at times of being with one of them, or the other, or even both. He'd been lying on his back and clasping onto Red Bird's hips as she rode upon him, an ecstatic look on her face, just before waking up in his bed. He hated that he had such a dream about her, when her mate was the one who brought dreams. He would never be friends with Tal Natha, but he didn't like the thought of antagonizing him, either. He cursed himself for ever setting eyes on her, as he had many times before.

He let out a frustrated sigh and shifted, a throbbing still coming between his legs. This was the third night in a row that he'd awakened from such a dream, yet hadn't done anything about it. He glanced to his left, at the figure sleeping beside him. Little Dove, his rightful wife. She was pretty, but not in the seductive, beckoning way of either Shadow Water or Red Bird. Even the innocent Red Bird seemed worldly compared to her. Right now she lay on her side facing him, her hands tucked beneath her head. She even seemed to smile slightly in her sleep. He didn't doubt that her dreams were cheery, as she always was.

They'd made love before, but she'd always initiated it. She had left her family and her tribe to live with him, and had consented to a proper ceremony, and had even given up her native clothes for his own people's kind; if not for her dark skin and hair and eyes, she could have almost passed as one of them. Part of him hated that she had given up part of herself just to be with him, when he was so ungrateful. He wanted to love her, yet so far the feeling hadn't come. He could only admit to a sort of vague affection. Aside from not wanting to offend her or her family, he wasn't even certain why he had wed her. She felt more like a little sister than a wife.

He stared at her face and noticed that the throbbing between his legs didn't abate. He mentally fought with himself over what to do. He considered trying to shove the feeling away, as he had before; or perhaps he could leave the room, and satisfy himself elsewhere. He started to settle on this second option; he could step outside briefly, as if for a breath of air, and relieve his need there, without any even noticing. He even started to lift the blanket and shift his leg to get up, trying to be as quiet as possible.

His foot inadvertently bumped against her leg and he gritted his teeth. She shifted and rubbed at her eyes before blinking them open, peering at him in the dimness.

"Husband...?" She seemed to prefer calling him by title rather than name, something which made him feel guilty for some reason. "Where are you going?"

Justin started seeking his excuse, yet no words came. He opened his mouth and nothing came out. Little Dove stared at him as he tried to speak before frowning slightly and sitting up. Her long hair, which she took down from its bun before going to bed, trailed over her shoulders, and he took note of the thin gown that she wore. He could almost see her small breasts through it and ached even harder.

She furrowed her brow. "What's wrong?"

He still tried to speak, with no results. Instead he couldn't help staring at her chest. Little Dove's frown grew slightly and she peered down at herself; he flinched when he realized that she could tell what he was staring at. Instead of growing offended, she merely lifted her head to give him a curious look.

"I was going to step outside," he said at last, his voice almost a croak. It felt as if his loins were on fire.

She tilted her head. "Why? It's cold outside."

He clutched at the blanket. With the way that she stared at him, he couldn't easily lie. He'd never liked lying. He considered simply heading out without explaining, yet that would be too hurtful to her. He considered just pushing the feeling down, yet knew that it would just arise again the next night, and the next, until he threatened to explode. And now that she'd awakened he knew that she'd be even more attentive to his moods; that was just the way she was.

He forced his fingers to loosen their deathgrip on the blanket and let out his breath. Her look grew pensive when she sensed his frustration, which made it all the more difficult for him to speak. He swallowed to find his voice.

"Little Dove..." She nodded slightly when he said her name, and he had to avert his eyes from hers in order to keep speaking. "I...I wish to make love to you tonight. I do not think I can contain it. I would much prefer if you accept."

He cringed inwardly on hearing his own words. He'd never demanded anything before, not like this; and no matter how politely he phrased it, that was still what it was, a demand. He knew he had the right, yet he hated demanding anything of a woman. He simply had never believed that one could own a human being, or treat them as inferior. When Little Dove just stared at him with large eyes he grasped at the blanket again, biting the inside of his mouth.

"I will go outside...I'll be back in just a few moments."

"Wait a moment," Little Dove said, making him pause. She frowned and her brow furrowed.

"You wish to make love?" she stated, as openly as anything. "Right now?"

Justin felt his face flush, and felt thankful for the dimness. "I have for the past few nights," he said, as if she should have known.

Little Dove's face twisted up in an almost comical fashion. "Why didn't you say anything?" He must have given her a strange look, for she started giggling. When he couldn't think of anything to say her laughter just grew. "You were squirming around so much last night I could not believe you said nothing!"

Justin blinked. "You...you knew--?"

She clasped her arms across her middle, rocking and giggling wildly. "Husband...please forgive me...but it was hard to miss!" He felt his face burning again but was more disbelieving than anything. Little Dove wiped her streaming eyes and managed to look at him. "I thought though that you didn't want to," she finally said. "Since you never asked."

He felt a tiny flare of indignation and anger that she hadn't bothered letting him know that she knew, but realized that this was an irrational reaction, based on how he'd acted. She noticed the look on his face again and her brow furrowed. She leaned forward on her hands to peer at him curiously.

"Husband...if you wished so much to make love, then why did you never say so? I couldn't know you really wanted to, if you said nothing about it."

"I do not want to demand anything of you," Justin said reproachfully.

She cocked her head, seeming amused. "Yet you did a moment ago."

"This is because I can hardly take it anymore--you're lying right next to me!"

"And I was in the same spot last night!" She started giggling again before forcing herself to stop. "Really, though...why did you just not ask?"

Justin flushed. "It wouldn't have seemed proper!"

She frowned in puzzlement. "Why not?" She sat up and hugged her knees to herself before he could respond. "You know, Husband, I don't understand some of the things your people do...why you all wear so many clothes, and why you turn off the lights every time you make love, and why you do it inside a closed bedroom only..."

He had a sudden image of the two of them rutting like deer in the woods, and felt his ears burning. "This is not the way it's done!" he just about snapped.

She shrugged. "Among your people, no. But it's not like that with mine..."

"People are not supposed to talk about such things except among themselves. It's private!"

The same wide-eyed, curious look. "Why?" He was a bit grateful when she didn't wait for an answer this time, as he hadn't one to give. "You know," she said, still hugging her knees to her chest, "Father is somewhat like you. He could never talk with me or my sisters about such things. We would never have learned anything if Mother had not told White Deer some things before she died. I had to learn from my older sisters what to expect of men! Father never wished to take part in any such talk, but then again, he's not like most men I've met; he's shy, like your people. Here, everybody seems to be shy. I don't see why you treat this like something to be ashamed of."

"This is just the way it is with us," Justin said, unable to think of anything else. He was starting to feel rather stupid for starting the conversation in the first place.

Little Dove stared at him for a moment, then let go of her knees. "So, you still wish to make love?" she said, and she asked it so abruptly that he felt his flagging excitement flare up again, and grasped the blanket to make certain that it stayed over his lap. She noticed the gesture, however, and smiled. She got on hands and knees and crept toward him.

"I'll tell you what," she murmured, reaching him and draping her arm over his shoulder, her other arm looping across his front to hold him to her. She pressed her head to his and his breath quickened when he felt her breasts pressing against him through her thin layer of clothing. "From now on, when I wish for something, I will ask for it; and when you wish for something, you will ask for it. And then we will not have to guess so much." She kissed his cheek and smiled at him. "Do you like this idea?"

Justin stared at her, his breath coming in a soft pant. Her smile just grew, and she hugged him a little tighter. She let out a tiny squeal when he threw off the blanket, his erection throbbing hard against his underclothes, and grasped her arms, rolling her over onto her back and moving to lie atop her. She started giggling again when he kissed her neck and shoulders and face, his lips sucking at her earlobes and then her own lips. She stroked his back as he looped his leg about hers, lifting it to press their hips together. He moved his own a few times, rubbing against her and panting hoarsely. His fingers dug into her arms.

He mouthed her ear again, feeling her strain beneath him. "I wish to take you from behind," he said in a guttural murmur, and she trembled. He thought perhaps that he'd misunderstood her enthusiasm, yet she rubbed her foot against his leg and kissed his neck.

"Like deer!" she whispered, and giggled. "This sounds exciting!"

He lifted himself from her and rolled her over onto her belly. As she lay there breathing quick yet softly he knelt and hurriedly undid his pants, then pressed on her hip, getting her to rise to her hands and knees. He stroked her buttock, earning a gasp, and pulled her nightdress up to bare her to him. By this point he was beyond any patience, and didn't bother to remove any of their clothing, simply pulling his pants down to his knees and moving himself behind her. He bent over her slightly and reached his hands in front of and between her thighs to spread her open, panting heavily at the feeling of her moisture upon his fingers as she submitted. She was practically gasping now, as was he, and he fumbled into position before pulling her back and abruptly thrusting inside. Little Dove stiffened and let out a short cry and he grunted in relief to feel her warmth enclosing him; without any other hesitation he clutched her tightly and began thrusting hard and quick, tilting back his head and groaning at the canopy.

"Ohhh, God," he gasped as he moved, pleasure surging all throughout him. "Yes, oh yes..."

Little Dove grasped the bedclothes in her hands, swaying with his motions, her muscles tight and trembling. He wished that he'd been patient enough to take off her clothes, at least, though his head was too foggy to care much. At any other time he would have liked stroking her body, but at this point he was so consumed by lust that it didn't matter. He satisfied himself by holding tightly to her hips and plunging at her as hard as he could. Some dim part of his mind was worried about hurting her, but he knew he could heal her if he grew too rough; and she seemed to be holding her own well enough, judging by the breathless cries she was letting out, and the way that she tightened against him with each push. She even managed a giggle now and then, and when she threw her head back he could tell that she was enjoying it. He leaned over her, digging his fingers into her flesh, and gave a guttural growl as he thrust. She shivered wildly and laughed.

"Oh...Husband...oh...Justin..."

He ran his hands up again to massage her mound, swollen and wet with juices, and earned a delighted squeal. She tensed abruptly, her tightness making him grunt with strain. Almost immediately she loosened again and let out a husky moan, still shaking; he rubbed his fingers over her sensitive spot, his other hand sliding up her belly and to her breast. They rocked rather awkwardly now, though neither seemed to care. Little Dove's moan grew higher pitched when he tweaked her hard nipple, and his body responded to the way that she vibrated tautly against him.

"Husband..." she moaned.

Justin pressed himself to her and gently bit at her neck, running his tongue all along her skin. Little Dove gasped and laughed.

* * * * *


Justine lifted her eyes from the book that she sat reading in her bedroom, unable to sleep. A noise had started somewhere above her, very soft at first, but growing slightly louder. Even as she stared at the ceiling in puzzlement it seemed to get louder still. It took her a while to recognize the sound of the large upstairs bed creaking and thumping against the wall, which surprised her somewhat, since she'd heard it before. Never quite this hurried, though, as the swift creakthump-creakthump-creakthump-creakthump indicated what was going on overhead. She waited a moment more until faint, muffled voices joined the first sound, a high-pitched moaning that she knew must be her daughter-in-law, and a low, urgent noise that she assumed must be her son. Now that her attention was focused on them it was easier to make out the sounds, and though she couldn't tell what Little Dove might be saying, if anything, she could clearly hear her son's loud groans of pleasure as the bed continued thumping. The noises grew even more hurried and she distractedly turned her attention back to the book, though her mind wasn't on the words on the page.

He has been gone for five years now.

She stared toward the foot of the bed, her mind drifting from the book. She liked to hear the sound of her son and his wife enjoying themselves, no matter how noisy they might be; it was good that they had each other. Still, even more now than ever it reminded her of how she slept every night alone, without even Gerard to keep her company. He had died five years ago. Even though he had not been the most satisfying in bed, still, he had been her husband, and she had loved him dearly. She missed the feeling of him inside her, even though he'd often ended up straining and gasping and thrusting frantically in a futile attempt to draw her mind from the demon who'd once done the same...and of course, once she thought of that, she missed even more the feeling of the demon inside her, massive and engorged, his furry hips pressed to hers, his claws raking along her back, his teeth at her nape. He had made love to her enough times for her to get with child by him. Then she had not coupled with him again. She wondered where he was and what he was doing, down in the lake with his own mate. She smiled slightly when she thought of the young demon he'd fathered, and of how he and his mate must have kept themselves quite busy for that to happen. The woman he'd taken to live with him was very fortunate.

The thumping, creaking sounds and cries from upstairs had grown frantically fast, but Justine's eyelids were at last drooping. She set the book aside with a sigh and turned down the lamp, settling into the bed with the heavy covers pulled up to her chin. The bed was large and lonely, but at least another bed was not.

* * * * *


Sweat ran down Justin's face, his eyes shut tight and his teeth clenched. His fingers clawed at Little Dove's thighs, holding her hips in place as he lunged ever harder and faster, driving himself as deep into her as he could go. His wife started shrieking, but the way that she bucked beneath him, tossing her long black hair, made it clear that they both enjoyed this. She even started crying out his name--"Justin! Justin!"--and he found that this excited him even more. He rocked on his knees, thrusting up into her hard enough to lift her own knees from the bed. He groaned harshly as he did so, raking her hips. Little Dove gasped and dropped her head to the bed, digging into the sheets, and he bore down into her. The bed thumped loudly against the wall but he didn't care. He slipped his hands up to clutch her buttocks, hearing her whimper, and he let out a thick growl. He felt the demon side of him surging upwards, demanding to be let loose, so he could overpower and consume her, yet managed somehow to keep it in check, his bared teeth and slightly glowing eyes the only signs of its presence. She continued crying out his name, and he began grunting heatedly, preparing himself for his final thrust as he felt his seed start to rush upward. He held off long enough to feel her first contraction, her muscles tightening around him and a husky cry escaping her throat, and then jammed her against him, impaling her inside, letting out a bellow of lust and relief as he felt his seed burst from him, searing her insides. Little Dove's cry broke off in the middle and she threw back her head with a sharp breath, shaking, her buttocks quivering as she accepted his offering. The hot fluid drained from him for what seemed to be ages before it at last tapered off, and only then did she let out her breath and sink to the bed, collapsing in the blankets. Justin collapsed upon her, also panting heavily. They lay half upon each other, wet and sweating, trying to catch their breath.

Justin breathed in the scent of the room as he lay there, their panting growing softer. He smelled the hot damp mixed scent of sweat, his seed and her fluids, as well as their own faint scents, which he assumed that she couldn't even detect. He sucked in her smell, trying to fill himself with it, trying as hard as he could to love it and what it meant, to open his heart for her. Yet...it smelled so mundane, compared to the scent of others...Shadow Water...Red Bird...and he ground his teeth in frustration on realizing this, that even her scent didn't please him as much as theirs had.

With an irritated sigh he pushed himself up and rolled off of her, hearing her let out her own breath, and he landed on his back, again staring upward. He shut his eyes tightly. When she touched his chest with her fingers, he reached up to clasp her hand in his own, and he put his arm around her when she snuggled up to his side. He ran his fingers through her damp hair, and told himself repeatedly that she was his, there was nothing else that he needed, yet the right feelings wouldn't come, and the wrong ones would not go away. The pang of guilt inside him grew stronger.

I do not love her. I do not know why, but...I cannot.

I can never have Red Bird...so why can I never stop thinking of her? Why can't I love what I have...?


He shut his eyes again with a pained look. He was grateful for the dimness, and for Little Dove's apparent sleepiness, so that she could not see the expression on his face; he knew that it would have easily betrayed anything he was feeling. No matter how he felt about her, he couldn't bear to hurt her that way.

And so he forced himself to be patient enough to wait until morning, when he was accustomed to rising and going to bathe before leaving the house for the day, before making his way to the washroom on his own. And so Little Dove did not know, nor suspect, that rather than bathing himself, her husband spent the better part of his time in the small room leaning against the wall, head tipped back and pants bunched around his ankles, cupping both hands around his penis and rubbing quickly up and down, bunching his buttocks and shifting his hips as he huskily whispered the name he wished more than anything to whisper as he made love.

"Yes...Red Bird...oh God...my sweet Red Bird..."


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This item is not looking for critique. It was written solely for entertainment's sake. Although a scene from a possibly longer story, it is complete in itself and unless otherwise stated there is not going to be any more of it written. Additional unrelated SCENES may be written, but single scenes themselves are complete as they are. So please do not expect more. If you are interested in reading the series which INSPIRED the scene, just look elsewhere in my portfolio and you should find something. (Use the "story codes" given in the scene headers. For example, "MI" = "Manitou Island" series.)

I am not looking for critique on grammar, spelling, style, sentence structure, flow, or the mechanics of writing. What I AM interested in is commentary on such things as characterization, plot, symbolism, theme, etc.--the deeper aspects of the story. I like to know if a scene is believable, if the characters are interesting, what you thought of how they interacted, if the writing evoked any emotions, things such as that.

Feel free to criticize, but just keep in mind that I'm working on more important projects and shared this just for fun and/or to illustrate character interactions, so I don't plan to revise it any time soon. Comments on the characters, theme, etc. are more than welcome.
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