Tez M Author

“I should’ve changed the stupid lock, I should’ve made you leave your key, if I thought that for one second you’d be back to bother me.”

I Will Survive - Gloria Gaynor

Very Hot!!

OK to repost with proper credits. Pardon the formatting.

After the session ended, little by little the elves peeled off. In the end, only three were left – those three that Cinox had made very clear were the objects of his attention. During the session, Cinox had arranged for Prasse to be part of the practice group with the other two elves – Streen (the thin one) and his best friend, Dawle. Their friendly demeanor and openness had eased the nervous greenie into enjoying the session.

Cinox started the conversation.

“So, Prasse, tell me about your experience in the city. Do you think you’ll stay there, or return to the Woodlands?”

Streen and Dawle didn’t make an effort to hide their curiosity; staring at Prasse and making him feel uncomfortable. Blushing, Prasse answered.

“Well, I’m not sure yet, Sir. I am torn.”

The anxiety Cinox had detected before the session returned to Prasse’s eyes.

“What are you hungry for?”

Prasse stared at the maneetah. How on earth could he know? Did he know? The bright red coloring of Prasse’s face only increased as he looked down.

“I…”

Prasse looked up to find the inquisitive stares of the other two elves. Streen’s mischievous smile made Prasse want to punch his lights out. Somehow, Dawle’s look gave him courage to continue.

“My decision has nothing to do with the city – I don’t like it that much. I am trying to decide if I want to go back to the Woodlands, or…”

Prasse paused again. Dawle’s look was now one of apprehension.

“…Or belong to a mancat.”

Cinox was taken aback. He was genuinely surprised to hear the young elf voice his desires with such conviction. Dawle was dumbfounded, but Streen never lost his smirk.

Cinox had always thought about having an elf, especially seeing that most of his brothers had owned them in the past - and a few still kept some. The Maniger Twins had a buffet of elves amongst their farm workers – not that they used them frequently for sex. Tez had just received the peace offering elf, even if that had blown up shortly after along with Coriyi’s. Tez had appropriated Elin – despite him apparently not being an elf - and Coriyi had just recently found Starak. Selef had as many as he wanted during his heat season, and Boonan had Namaru. It seemed that only Meleo and himself were the lonely ones, taking elves for pleasure whenever the internal heat called for it.  

Cinox had always been alone, a solitary clan member whose sense of responsibility about the defense of his family trumped any desire of company or possession. And as much as he had thought about having one as a test, he certainly wasn’t ready to take one on at that time – he was just looking for a night of pleasure.

Suddenly, Cinox felt the urge to leave. However, following his curiosity for the first time instead of his natural instinct, he decided to probe further.

“Alright, Prasse. How do you know you will be able to handle all the requirements of belonging to a mancat?”

Prasse’s flushed face remained as he answered.

“I don’t know. But I definitely would like to try… Sir.”

Cinox walked right into that. He felt like a fool, trying to make Prasse crawl back into his shell – which didn’t happen as expected. His horny feelings disappeared like smoke, and he felt cornered – something a mancat does not like to be.

Neither Cinox nor Prasse noticed the frustrated, angry look on Dawle’s face. He was clutching something in his hand – something that hung from a thin chain around his neck.

Being the perfect strategy machine he was, Cinox decided to cut his losses and run. After a fast-as-lightning movement that got him to his feet, Cinox said good-bye to his audience.

“Well, boys, time for me to run. Let’s do this again, shall we?”

Without waiting for an answer, Cinox disappeared into the woods just past the Main Market Plaza.

Dawle’s anger was burning inside but didn’t let his companions know. An opportunity had just slipped through his fingers, thanks to that fucking greenie.

“Alright guys. Seems it’s time to go now.” His sad tone didn’t get past Streen, who decided to cheer up his friend.

“Hey – why don’t we take Prasse to the club for some Liquid Rubies?”

If looks could kill, Streen would have been dead from the angry flash-look that Dawle shot at him. However, Dawle composed himself quickly.

“Sure, Streen. Let’s have fun.”

* * *

At the club, Dawle drank his pain away. And due to his inexperience, Prasse was black-out drunk after the second shot of Liquid Ruby. Streen was a happy-drunk, so he convinced the other two to join him on the dance floor. All three were shirtless pressing against each other’s sweaty body to the thumping rhythm of the music.

An hour later, they landed in the two bedroom apartment that Dawle and Streen shared. The couch was the furthest they got before all their clothes came off. Dawle’s drunken mind told him he needed to angry-fuck Prasse. And his body agreed.

After throwing Prasse on the couch, Dawle lifted Prasse’s legs and buried his scruffy, drunken face between Prasse’s asscheeks. Prasse moaned loudly, the feeling of something wet and wonderful teasing his backdoor entrance.

“I can take care of that noise,” mumbled Streen. It took him three tries, but he eventually succeeded in inserting his hard cock into Prasse’s mouth.

Meawhile, Dawle continued his merciless attack of Prasse’s bottom. Every lick inflamed Prasse’s heat and desire. Dawle almost forgot his anger, his intoxicated state increasing with the delicious musky smell of Prasse’s ass mixed with his saliva. Dawle was finally ready to penetrate. His hard dick was throbbing and leaking copiously. Prasse held his own calves instinctively when he felt Dawle stop his sensual attack, not letting Streen’s throbbing dick unattended.

Smiling drunkenly, Dawle placed his cockhead against Prasse’s back door; smearing his precum on it. Hearing Prasse moan, Dawle bit his lower lip as he moved his hips forward - groaning at the sensation of his cock’s mushroom head being slowly surrounded by Prasse’s tightness.

Dawle wasn’t sure if Prasse was a virgin, but he certainly felt like one. Inch by inch, Dawle’s hard dick pushed its way inside Prasse. Even in his state, Prasse felt Dawle’s cock press itself inside him, triggering a premature orgasm. But neither Dawle nor Streen noticed it – just like Streen and Prasse didn’t notice the key that swayed hanging from the chain around Dawle’s neck as he fucked Prasse hard.

* * *

Cinox entered the apartment. He already knew the elves in Elf City didn’t lock their doors, since there wasn’t ever a need for that. After saying goodbye to the elves by the Market Plaza, he had double-backed and followed them. Charming some elves outside the club, and trading access for clothes, he successfully camouflaged himself. The darkness of the dance floor had helped. Patience practiced through years of blending and hunting helped him pass the time without frustration or desperation. Eventually, the elves stumbled home – and he followed close behind.

Being the expert strategist that he was, and thankful for his night vision, he had no problem finding his way through the dark apartment.

Tiptoeing gracefully around the landmines of clothes all over the floor of the apartment, Cinox made his way to the couch where Prasse was sleeping. Cinox paused to take in the beauty of the sleeping elf. Cinox heard a sudden noise and crouched while his head moved, scanning the area. There was no movement – probably something on the outside. Damn city was always too noisy for his enhanced senses.  

Returning his attention to the sleeping elf, Cinox approached silently. Prasse was breathing softly, completely naked, with one arm over his head and the other covering his penis. Cinox inched his head forward and took a deep breath, taking in the scent of elf sex. Immediately, his cock reacted to the sensory input.

Purring, Cinox stuck his tongue out. His sandpaper-like tongue met the soft supple skin covering Prasse’s body. Prasse moaned as Cinox found a dark spot underneath and slightly to the right of Prasse’s belly button. Just as if that was the magic switch, Prasse spread his legs with a whimper. Cinox understood the message clearly.

Positioning himself between Prasse’s legs, Cinox pushed. His tongue moved now to Prasse’s nipples, rolling his tongue around them while his penis entered the elf. Prasse’s ass was slick with the jizz of his previous sexual encounter, so it was quite easy for Cinox to get all the way in. Prasse enjoyed Cinox’s movements, and threw his head back.

Prasse’s sexy neck was now exposed. Cinox salivated. His face closed in on Prasse’s neckline, following it along his shoulder. The maneetah bared his teeth, but he didn’t bite. He simply rubbed his long canines against the pulsating vein in Prasse’s neck. Prasse groaned in pleasure and hissed a drunken ‘yessssss’.

Subconsciously, this is what Prasse had wanted. To be possessed by a mancat. And, although he was so drunk he wouldn’t remember it the day after, he was thoroughly enjoying the new experience.

Cinox increased the pace. The need for speed hard-coded into him along with the heat of the moment pushed him over the edge. Prasse’s moans filled the dark apartment, and at that point Cinox really didn’t care if the rest of the household would be awakened.

Cinox finished, panting. He pressed his body against Prasse’s, and was pleasantly surprised to feel some wet drops on his abdomen – a clear sign that Prasse had not only enjoyed the fuck, but actually come as well. As he pulled out of the elf, Cinox kissed Prasse’s open mouth. Prasse continued sleeping as Cinox tiptoed out of the apartment.

In the darkness of the hallway, Cinox didn’t hear one of the bedroom doors creak open. The Maneetah had left the apartment by the time Dawle peeked out, grabbing the key around his neck.

Had Cinox stayed, he would’ve seen the look of jealousy and envy in Dawle’s eyes – along with a tear that ran warm down Dawle’s cheek.

“Las palabras son tan vanas cuando no se dicen con el corazón”

Las Palabras - Mocedades