Racer's Pair [Comm]
#9 of Racer's Reward (Standalone stories)
Rookie racer dragon <3 Businessman transport dragon
This story was a commission by Rezzek789. It was supposed to be 12,500 words, but I wrote a bit more than I planned to. You don't need to have read the previous stories to understand this one, although some of them do feature the same characters.
Synopsis: Typhoon and Gripen are back. Rookie racer dragon <3 Businessman transport dragon, now with added Double Dick Action (19,940 words)
Typhoon tried to remain immobile as the doctor removed the bandages from around his chest. He kept his head raised high and his eyes looking straight ahead, because although he'd been reluctant to admit as much to Dr McPhee or anyone else, he was secretly anxious about exactly what he would see when all those thick white bandages were finally removed.
For several weeks he had felt like a mummy--his chest swathed in cloth, his forelimbs also wrapped up and rendered clumsy--but now the time had finally come for those bandages to be removed. Would his abraded scales have grown back intact? Would there be scars? He didn't want his scales to have regrown any different from before, not even in a slightly different colour from the rest of his body. That wasn't vanity but just a simple desire not to be deformed. A racing dragon was supposed to look good, after all.
"All seems well. It appears that you've made an excellent recovery..." Dr McPhee muttered as she worked. Was the human just saying that to be encouraging? Hopefully not.
Typhoon lowered his gaze slightly, just enough to barely see his chest at the bottom of his peripheral vision. His chest appeared crimson red underneath those bandages, but thankfully not from blood. That bright reddish shade was normal. It was his usual colour--a vibrant strawberry red which covered his underside and all four of his legs. Nervously he shuffled his wings, and streaks of white colour were visible on the flight surfaces. The white on his wings looked a bit like bandages, but it was just natural white striping that lent some variety to his appearance.
Raising his head again, Typhoon decided to just wait and let Dr McPhee fully remove all the bandages before he got a look at himself. It was mildly reassuring to know that his chest scales hadn't regrown in some weird different colour, though it still remained to be seen if things would look asymmetric or deformed in some other way.
As he glanced around his bedroom, Typhoon briefly made eye contact with the other dragon in the room. Gripen was sitting by the side, watching him and offering her presence in silent, friendly companionship. She nodded encouragingly when Typhoon glanced at her, but neither of the two dragons exchanged words.
Typhoon took a moment to look over Gripen, appreciating what a young, healthy, unscarred dragon ought to look like, and silently hoping that his own scales were still as good-looking as hers were. Whereas Typhoon's own scales were a mix of bright red and darker reddish-browns (along with those white stripes on his wings), Gripen's colouration was a friendly yellow shade over most of her body, with a pale white underbelly which reminded Typhoon of a lemon meringue (in a good, tasty way).
After a moment of shared eye contact, Gripen glanced away, apparently recognizing Typhoon's anxiety about his appearance. Possibly being scarred aside, Typhoon normally didn't mind attention. Unlike some other racing dragons, he liked the attention and the roar of the crowd--it was energizing to hear people cheering his name and to know that so many spectators had their eyes on him as he flew a race. He was still very much a young, rookie racer kicking off his career, but he was fast and agile. It had been nothing but bad luck that another dragon had crashed into him during his first major race--the resultant crash had left him injured and out of action for a few weeks, but hopefully there would be no permanent effects.
Typhoon and Gripen were both rainbow swiftwings--a very common species of dragon that was arguably the most domesticated of all dragons, bred over centuries for intelligence, temperament, and flight speed. Compared to the many different species of dragon, rainbow swiftwings were relatively small and generally could only carry a single human on their backs. Moreover, as was obviously stated in their species name, they could come in a whole_rainbow_ assortment of different colours, which helped humans tell one dragon from another. Typhoon was a racer who competed in aerial races, and while Gripen was theoretically also supposed to be a racing dragon, she didn't actually seem to care much for the sport.
"There we go... And that's the last one from your chest," Dr McPhee said, peeling back the final gauze bandage from Typhoon's chest. Her voice was calm, professional, perhaps even matronly; and as a human, her vocal tone was crisper and lacked the rumbling resonance common from draconic speech.
Typhoon had been sitting back on his haunches, and now he bent his head down to look and saw... normal looking scales. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief, then grinned. "Ho, that's good! I look normal!"
"I told you that you would be fine. No reason for you to have been worried at all," Gripen muttered. She stood up and casually walked over to peer at Typhoon's chest. Then when Dr McPhee had turned away for a moment, Gripen nuzzled Typhoon's neck with her snout, right under his chin--just a quick, stolen bit of physical intimacy which might be explained away as nothing more than affection between two friends, but which both the dragons knew was an expression of something deeper. A shudder ran down Typhoon's back.
Dr McPhee tossed the freshly removed bandages into a plastic bag for disposal. "Yes, you're looking healthy, my dear. The damaged scales on your chest have regrown properly and there's no sign of any scarring." She crouched down and beckoned with a gloved hand. "Give me your paw. Let me get those bandages off too."
Raising his left forepaw from the ground, Typhoon let Dr McPhee unwrap the bandages surrounding his limb. "I'm not horrifically scarred! This is great!" the red-scaled drake exclaimed cheerfully.
"You crash might have been dramatic, but it was at low speed and low altitude, and we took lots of measures to ensure there wouldn't be even the slightest scarring or permanent injury," Dr McPhee replied. "Ah, good evening, Mr Caedry," she added, nodding deferentially at a middle-aged man who had just briskly walked into the room.
Typhoon had seen his fair share of both dragons and humans, but his owner was quite unlike anyone else he'd ever met. This was Ian Caedry, a wealthy aviation tycoon who was the founder of Caedry Aerospace Group--a vast consortium of transport and logistics corporations reliant on dragons to carry cargo and passengers within and between countries. One of Ian's few personal hobbies was dragon aerial racing, and he owned three rainbow swiftwings--Typhoon, Gripen, and also another dragon named Rafale--all of whom Ian had raised from the egg. Ostensibly they were his racers, but practically they were the closest thing the businessman had to family.
As he usually was, Ian was wearing a specially fitted business suit that was neat and formal looking, but also flexible and comfortable enough for him to ride a dragon. After all, riding on dragonback was the fastest transportation mode available, and he_was_the chief executive of an aerospace consortium that employed hundreds of thousands of dragons as transports. Humans might have dextrous fingers, excellent hand-eye coordination, and the ability to reproduce like rabbits until they'd covered the Earth with their cities, but they simply could not fly. For that, they needed dragons.
"Good evening, doc. And you too, Typhoon." Ian came over and patted Typhoon on the side of his neck. While in a sitting position, a rainbow swiftwing's head approximately came up to human shoulder level. "How you doing? Feeling better, I hope? You look good."
"Healthier. I'm still wishing I'd won that race... but physically I'm better," Typhoon replied.
"I told you before and I'll tell you again--don't worry about that race. You tried your best and that's what counts," Ian assured him, then he turned towards Dr McPhee and spoke to her. "Treat my boy well, doc. You know me--whatever it takes to make him well, I'll pay for it."
"I never doubted that for a second. Typhoon will be right as rain, and ready to fly races again in no time," Dr McPhee replied, as she continued to carefully unwrap Typhoon's bandaged paw. She was the personal physician and veterinarian who commonly attended to all three of Ian Caedry's dragons; and though she was a professional, she was also somewhat of a family friend. "Only the very best treatment for Mr Caedry's favourite racing dragon," Dr McPhee said.
"Oh, no. I'm not Ian's favourite dragon. That would be Rafale for sure," Typhoon interjected, casually grinning at Ian. "I'm just the left-out middle child."
Ian smiled, looking mildly amused. Walking over to the side of the room, he stood beside Gripen and casually patted her on the neck too. "Rafale's retired and Gripen... doesn't yet want to fly competitively. So in a way, you_are_ my favourite racing dragon, Typhoon, since you're the only one actually in races. Not that I would ever choose to rank my dragons. You just can't rank family."
Gripen leaned into Ian's hand, then she nodded towards the doorway of Typhoon's bedroom, leading out towards the living room. "Is the security detail ready to fly?"
"They're ready whenever we are." Ian replied. He, Typhoon, Gripen, and Dr McPhee were all currently in one of the bedrooms of a penthouse apartment. The whole upper floor of this residential tower was shared personal living space for Ian and his three racing dragons, along with separate quarters for an assortment of personal assistants and bodyguards who all worked for Ian and his corporation.
However, soon it would be just Typhoon all by himself. Ian was about to fly off on a business trip to an international air show in Paris, taking with him most of his support staff as well as his other two dragons. Just outside the penthouse apartment's main door was a stairwell that led up to the roof, where there was a short landing strip for dragons to take off and land.
"Paris awaits, and the skies are clear. Time for us to say goodbye," Ian murmured. The executive nodded to the veterinarian. "Doc, can you give us a moment?"
"Of course." Dr McPhee patted Typhoon's still partially bandaged paw, and carefully lowered it to the ground. Standing up, she left Typhoon's bedroom and went out to the living room, quietly closing the door behind her.
"Typhoon, are you sure you don't want me to stay with you?" Gripen said. But even as she asked, Typhoon could see that Gripen's expression was conflicted--he knew that she very much wanted to go along with Ian on his business trip, taking turns with Rafale to carry the aviation tycoon as he flew cross-continental and then around the airshow. Yet at the same time, Typhoon was still recovering and he couldn't fly such a long trip with them; he would have to stay here in New York, and so Gripen also felt an urge to stay with him and keep him company.
"Business and trade, uh, optimal flight routes, operating envelopes, and all those other aviation industry things? No, thank you! I'm just a racer. That serious stuff flies above my head," Typhoon insisted, trying to put Gripen at ease. "I'll be fine here. Don't worry about me! I just want you to have fun in Europe, and I'll be plenty busy catching up with my racing training again."
In a weird, roundabout way, Ian and his three dragons were family, yet at the same time, Ian also had a responsibility to his company and his many employees. "We live in exciting times for this industry and for our society," Ian agreed. "This business trip will be interesting... but perhaps not as much for you."
The door clicked open and a third rainbow swiftwing stuck her head through the doorway, completing their little family for a moment. Rafale was the oldest of the three dragons--it was almost as if they were all siblings, though they weren't actually related by blood. Just like Gripen, Rafale was wearing a harness over her upper body with a saddle for Ian to ride on her back. "Hey. Security and PA escorts are boarded and ready for takeoff," Rafale said. Then she snorted when she saw Typhoon. "Pfft. Oh, you're finally getting those bandages off. Congratulations! You won't be a useless layabout do-nothing anymore, Typhoon."
"Thank you, thank you for your concern about my wellbeing!" Typhoon replied, bowing his head in an exaggerated manner. "I'm sure that I'll be back in tip-top flying shape in no time, and then I can set about beating every race record_you_ ever set."
Rafale smirked. "You can try," she muttered. If Ian and his dragons were a family, then Rafale and Typhoon would be feuding, bantering two siblings. Rafale turned to Ian. "We seriously need to go, though. Flight ops control is telling us to get airborne within ten minutes if we want make rendezvous timing. Bye, Typhoon! See you next week, loser!"
"Bye! I can't miss you if you can't leave!" Typhoon retorted, grinning back at her.
Ian looked mildly amused. "Take care of yourself, Typhoon. Don't push yourself too far with your training. I'll buy you back a souvenir from Paris." He walked over and patted Typhoon's head, right between his horns. Then he turned and left the room, as did Rafale.
Gripen didn't move. She stared at Typhoon for a moment, her expression unreadable, then she got to her feet and headed for the door. "Not... going to say goodbye?" Typhoon called after her.
"You're getting a goodbye! Just you wait," Gripen murmured. She trotted over to the door and curled her tail forward, quietly pushing the door shut with a click. Turning sharply around, she walked back towards Typhoon with a rather different expression--excitement, a splash of nervousness, maybe even guilt, but also a_hunger_. She glanced back at the closed door, then turned to Typhoon and nodded her head. "Ten minutes. I have to go in ten minutes, but I only need five. Maybe three if you cooperate."
Typhoon tilted his head, frowning at Gripen. "What--oh."
His question was cut off as Gripen came up right in front of him, and one of her forepaws slid down his chest and towards his underbelly. "Just something for you to remember me by until next week," Gripen whispered, just quietly enough for him to hear. Typhoon tensed up as her touch reached his genital slit, rubbing him with a light but steady contact that was entirely adequate to get what she wanted.
"Are we really doing this now?" Typhoon asked.
"Yes, yes we are. Don't complain."
"I'm not complaining. Ahh..." Typhoon moaned softly as a rush of blood started flowing into his underbelly. Just like most any male dragon, Typhoon's genitals were kept fully retracted into his underbelly when not in use, but Gripen's touch was very quickly getting him aroused. Yet_unlike_ most male dragons (or male rainbow swiftwings, at least), Typhoon didn't just have one single phallus. He had two. It was a semi-rare anatomical variation which occurred in about one in ten swiftwings--a left over from draconic ancestors millennia ago.
A rather naughty grin crossed Gripen's snout, and the yellow-scaled dragoness nudged Typhoon with the tip of her tail. "Left or right?" she asked. "Wait, never mind. No time for preferences. Whichever comes out first."
"Ooh. Gripen! I don't... Up to you..." Typhoon replied. Inside his body, he could feel his twin shafts both begin to press against the outer lips of his genital slit as his reproductive organs engorged with blood and readied for action. If they were fully grown they would both be about the same size as they jutted out from his underbelly at a slight left or right-facing angle respectively, side by side, but in this specific case his left phallus was the first to slip out from his genital slit.
Gripen wasted no time. Her paw quickly switched from rubbing against his genital slit and wrapped around his left shaft, grasping his reproductive organ to physically tug it out of his normal hiding place. That direct stimulation made it swell even further, and it took just seconds for Typhoon's left penis to reach full size. Continued blood flow then made it stiffen up and thicken into a solid rod of unscaled flesh, jutting proudly out of Typhoon's underbelly like a statement to his draconic masculinity. "There we go. Left."
Typhoon stared down at his own anatomy, transfixed by this sudden development. His phallus stood up as a spire of large and soft yet rigid flesh, unscaled in contrast to the smooth small scales covering his genital slit, yet a slightly darker red in colour than the rest of his body. In shape, it was sleek and relatively smooth, but with a mild upwards curve and a distinct spherical bulge just barely noticeable near the base where it met his body. "This is... quite the goodbye..." Typhoon murmured.
Gripen snorted, and a toothy grin crossed her snout. "You always say I'm too boring and serious? How's this for playing about? Haha... Rafale will never let us live this down if she catches us. You'd better finish quick."
Her paw grasped Typhoon's length, stroking it up in down with small motions send tingles of pleasure trickling into his system. Typhoon moaned softly. "Ahh... Ok. I can... Ok. Yes."
His right shaft also filled with enough blood to push out of his genital slit as well, but Gripen ignored that second phallus and it shrunk back down to semi-erect. Typhoon knew his own body, as did Gripen--the simple reflex was that stimulation to one of his shafts would make its twin organ lose erection, getting out of the way so that he could mate with just one phallus at the time.
A trickle of clear, lightly viscous liquid began dribbling from the tip of his left phallus and also from his genital slit, as his reproductive organ reflexively began releasing pre-ejaculate to lubricate itself for a supposed mating. Gripen slid her paw up and down, quickly getting that slick liquid all over her paw so she could rub even faster. "Make it fast, racer."
"Ahrruurghhh..." Typhoon made a quiet, incoherent noise that was half exclamation and half moan as the heavy stimulation jolted his body. He was sitting back on his haunches, but his tail flicked from side to side and he could barely just keep still as Gripen rubbed him. Then her paw slid all the way down and grasped Typhoon right on that slight bulge at the base of his shaft--that was a special bit of anatomy called a knot, and it was critically sensitive to stimulation.
Typhoon's jaw dropped open, and his wings splayed to half-unfurled as the flood of pleasure and intensity surged to spine-tingling levels. Gripen knew exactly how to get him going, and she was operating barely on the limit between extremely heavy stimulation and just doing things too fast. Unable to keep sitting back on his haunches, Typhoon's hips bucked forward and upwards as his body reacted--instinctively telling him follow the motion of Gripen's paw as she squeezed his knot and continued stroking up and down.
Gripen's brow lightly furrowed as she concentrated on her task, and her tongue stuck out the side of her muzzle. "You like that, don't you? Yes you do. Quickly now."
"Gripen..." Typhoon moaned her name, and he pressed his snout against her neck and shoulder. The smooth feel of Gripen's scales, her familiar smell, her close warmth, and that mixed up look of shyness and confidence which she had on her face--it all turned him on as nothing else did.She turned him on as nothing else did. "I like that. Really like that. Love that, actually. Love you..."
Gripen's grin got a fraction wider, and she curled her neck to lick Typhoon right on the end of his snout. "Thanks!"
The sensation was all building up in a growing wave of bliss that threatened to explode out of his underbelly. Typhoon could feel his muscles tensing up, automatically tightening in preparation for a quick finish. "Gripen, I'm going to... Almost..." A slight concern crossed his mind, and that thought managed to delay his orgasmic release for a brief moment. "Wait. This is going to be messy?" Though he and Gripen were still very much in that early, uncertain phase of a more seriously intimate relationship, they'd shared pleasure more than enough times for it to be obvious that sexual activities involved_fluids_ that made a mess.
Gripen flicked her wings in a shrug, and her grin didn't falter. "I could make you shoot your seed all over this floor and leave you to clean it all up while I flew off to Europe. Haha, but no. Cum for me, Typhoon."
Then instead of sliding up and down his whole shaft, her paw moved lower and grasped him just around the knot to tightly squeeze and massage that oh-so-sensitive part. Curling her head down, Gripen opened her jaws and took Typhoon right into her mouth. Wet, warm, softness enveloped the forward-half of his shaft, with her tongue curling around his length to lick and slurp with care. That sudden motion was so unexpected and sexual that Typhoon was simply overwhelmed by how much it made his arousal surge.
Every muscle in the young male dragon's body went stiff, and the pleasure in his underbelly tightened up into an intense tension that made him moan. "Gripen...!" His knot swelled with blood, trying to expand in size but kept in check by Gripen's tight grip. His reproductive organ was squished between the top of her mouth and her tongue, and continuously stimulated by all that warmth and wet movement. The building sensation of inevitability held Typhoon frozen for a few brief but wonderful seconds, then that tension exploded and wiped out every conscious thought in his mind.
"...!!" Typhoon's eyes snapped shut and his jaw opened and closed repeatedly, not making any sound but just from the overwhelming pleasure and satisfaction that coursed out from deep inside him. Semen blasted out from deep inside his underbelly and shot up his left shaft in repeated waves of warm, liquid relief, and yet Gripen didn't stop. The yellow-scaled female dragon continued suckling on Typhoon's erection and her paw gripped his knot tightly, making him tremble from the intensity of releasing his stored up seed. His body jerked and shuddered, and his still-bandaged forepaws tapped against the ground. He couldn't keep still--not while it was happening, not while it felt so fantastically good. For a glorious eternity the waves of pleasure kept going, yet after just a brief fraction of a minute Typhoon felt himself descending from that orgasmic high.
Gripen squeezed her paw around his knot one last time, eliciting a final shudder and a small jolt of his slowly softening shaft, then she pulled back and smacked her lips. She straightened herself up and made eye-contact with Typhoon--and as he was watching, her throat bobbed as she swallowed slowly. "Mmh, that was a lot. Did I get it all in my mouth? Nothing on my chin? Ok, good. Haha, I'm going to be tasting that for a while. I guess that's a goodbye present for me too? Hehe." Gripen chuckled and Typhoon found himself laughing softly too, even if there hadn't actually been anything too funny.
"I guess? Haha. Wow. That was hot." Typhoon panted softly, and then he leaned in and licked Gripen on the side of her snout. He could faintly smell the mineral scent of his own seed, but he could hardly complain about that after what Gripen had just done. "Thanks for that. That was amazing... Gripen you are the sexiest thing, you know that? I can return the favour." Typhoon moved his head, nosing towards Gripen's own underbelly, but she stopped him.
"Ooh! Don't touch me. I'm too turned on already! If you even touch me I shall be sorely tempted to let you use your tongue, and then we shall definitely end up caught when someone else comes in to remind me that we need to fly. No time for that! I've got to go. Terra Europa awaits!" Gripen adjusted the position of the flight harness she was wearing, and she glanced at an oversized aviator's watch she was wearing around the wrist of her other forepaw. "We just got you all_finished_ in record time! You know, I've wanted to just try jerking you off as quick as I could to see how fast I could do it, and I guess the answer is--pretty quick!" Gripen grinned again and she used her other paw to pat Typhoon's genital slit, where his left shaft had almost fully softened and slipped back inside alongside its twin. "When I get back, I'll do your other one and you can do me. Deal?"
"Sounds like a fantastic deal," Typhoon agreed. "I'm going to... really miss you."
"I'll call you when we get to Europe." Gripen hopped to her feet and wiped her forepaws on the carpeted floor, then she leaned in to whisper in Typhoon's ear. "I'll miss you," she murmured, then she turned and headed for the door. Her tail gently brushed against Typhoon's side--a slender streak of yellow rubbing against his red scales--and then that contact was gone and Typhoon missed her already.
"Fly safe! Have fun at the air show! And be safe with the transatlantic crossing!" he said to her.
Gripen glanced over her shoulder. "I'll make it over the Atlantic Ocean, don't you worry. You have fun too with your flight training. See you next week. As Rafale might say--au revoir!" As she was walking away, her tail swished from side to side, and then right as she was about to leave the room, it flicked just high enough to let Typhoon see her underbelly--it could just have been a coincidence or the way she was walking, but Typhoon had already seen that part of her at a much closer distance, and he knew she was teasing him.
Just after Gripen left Typhoon's bedroom, Dr McPhee returned. Typhoon subtly adjusted his sitting position and wondered if the veterinarian's nose was sensitive enough to tell what he and Gripen had just done. A human's sense of smell was usually slightly better than a dragon's, but then again there were certain draconic pheromones and scents which dragons were much more capable of detecting.
If Dr McPhee noticed the faint smell of draconic arousal, she did not mention it. "Alright, now that you've said your goodbyes, let's finish getting you out of these bandages. Your paw, please." The veterinarian gestured for Typhoon to pass her his left paw, and she began unwrapping the bandages covering his limb.
As the vet was working, Typhoon glanced towards the windows and caught sight of Gripen, Rafale, and several other bodyguard dragons flying in formation away from the penthouse apartment. Idly Typhoon thought about how any dragons flying nearby or living in the neighbouring skyscrapers could possibly have seen what he and Gripen had done, given the superior vision they had compared to humans. But then again, dragons weren't as stuck up about privacy or nudity as humans, so it didn't really matter. "There they go... Flying off to Europe," Typhoon murmured.
"Do you wish you were going with them?" asked Dr McPhee.
"Yes? Or no? I would rather be with them, though it is supposed to be a proper business trip and not a vacation." Typhoon sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Huh. I'll be fine just here."
"I'm sure you will be, given how you seem to have healed up so well." Once Dr McPhee had finished with Typhoon's left paw, the vet motioned for him to switch. "Your other paw, please."
"It'll be good to be able to use my forepaws again." Typhoon opened and closed his front left paw, then he moved his whole forelimb about, feeling the freedom of no longer being constrained by all the gauze. Slowly he lowered his paw to the ground and then raised the other one for the doctor to unwrap that too. The carpeted floor felt itchy against his exposed paw pad, after two weeks of only having felt the ground through the bandages covering his forepaws.
After unwrapping Typhoon's other paw, Dr McPhee nodded. "Everything appears healthy. How are you feeling? Any lingering pain or discomfort?"
Typhoon shook his head. "I've been bored out of my mind these few weeks. Does that count as discomfort?"
"It does, but that's fairly normal. So how are you feeling overall? I hope you didn't push yourself too hard, flying back here to New York. Any muscle pains?"
"I feel like I'm out of shape. Normally I train for so many hours each day, but the past few weeks have been nothing but lying around in bed, watching television and wishing I could fly." Shuffling his wings about on his back, Typhoon shifted his weight between his paws. "Now I'm fully healed, yes? I can go back to my usual training schedule?"
"I would advise you to take it slow. Don't rush back into your training."
"But I have to train. I'm a racing dragon and that's what I do--I race! If I don't train, I won't be_winning_those races," Typhoon replied.
"And when exactly is your next race?" asked the veterinarian.
"Uh... about five months away?" Typhoon said.
"That's plenty of time for you to get back into shape. It's not like a few weeks of rest will have turned all your muscles into flab," Dr McPhee said. Her gaze shifted to the other side of Typhoon's bedroom. "Speaking of flab, I hope you've been eating properly. Fries and hamburgers are full of fat, salt, and calories."
Typhoon didn't turn to look. He knew that at side of his bedroom, the leftovers from a fast-food delivery meal were sitting on a table next to the window. "I ate some coleslaw too. That counts as a vegetable."
"Coleslaw is a vegetable covered in mayonnaise, which is full of calories and not very good on nutrition. I hope you haven't been feeling too down over not being able to fly, or about your crash. It's still important to eat well and take care of yourself." Dr McPhee patted Typhoon on his shoulder, then she leaned in and peered at his scales. "Scale regrowth does require proper nutrition. Eat more things like broccoli, tomatoes, tofu, or walnuts. And for protein I'd recommend lean meats like fish or chicken,not deep fried."
"I know, I know. You're right. I should eat healthy," Typhoon agreed. Normally he was quite strict about not ever eating fast food, as he liked to stick to a proper diet to train his muscles for racing, but he'd made a few concessions after crashing (and losing his race).
"With your scales regrown I won't need to prescribe you any more of that revascularization ointment. And you said there's no more pain? So no need for me to prescribe painkillers either," said Dr McPhee.
"No need for any medicine," Typhoon said, then another thought occurred to him. "Unless you have any more nutritional supplements? Sort of like the ones you gave me two weeks ago?"
"That was just some vitamin D because you were spending a lot of time resting indoors, and thus not able to get much sunlight or exercise," said the veterinarian.
Typhoon tilted his head as he thought about it. "But I do want to get right back into flying. I have a race in a few months and I need to be training my flying style back up. Is there anything you can prescribe which could help me recover faster? I don't want anything illegal or unsafe, but something normal and healthy--protein powder, or multivitamins, or things like that."
"Taking dietary supplements isn't necessary if you eat healthily enough. Though it isn't a bad thing either," Dr McPhee frowned, and then she shrugged. "But if you are interested, I'm friends with a biomedical engineer in Nolacen-Camden Pharmaceuticals who recently told me they were looking to expand their product line into the dragon market. She mentioned that they were testing out new products and looking for actors, racers, and other sorts of dragons they could offer sponsorships for."
"Oh! Interesting. A sponsorship, you say?" Typhoon liked the sound of that. He could try something to make his flying better,and potentially increase his publicity in the competitive racing scene,and get paid for it? That just sounded all positive. "What's the name of your contact?"
Just the next morning, Typhoon received a visitor from Nolacen-Camden Pharmaceuticals. Right on time at 10 am sharp, a white-scaled rainbow swiftwing dropped out of the busy New York airspace and landed on the residential tower's rooftop. Typhoon had just finished eating his breakfast (a tuna sandwich, or two), but he perked up at the sight. He was supposed to have a meeting with Dr McPhee's contact--a biomedical engineer by the name of Ashley who had phoned the apartment yesterday sometime after Dr McPhee had left, put in contact by the vet.
As they'd been speaking on the phone, Typhoon had been wondering what this biomedical engineer would look like--he'd been imagining a woman dressed in a long lab coat, maybe wearing spectacles or lab goggles, and working with a microscope, test tube, petri dish, or something else which just spoke of_science_. Now he left the penthouse apartment and went up to the roof to go meet this biomedical engineer. Climbing up the stairs two at a time, he eagerly looked to see who was riding the rainbow swiftwing's back... but there was no one. The dragon was wearing a flight harness but instead of a saddle for a human to ride, there was a large package strapped to her back with the Nolacen-Camden logo. Interesting!
After a brief conversation with the security guard staffing the rooftop, the white-scaled swiftwing trotted over towards Typhoon and bowed her head politely. "Good morning. I assume you are Typhoon?" She had a quiet but clearly articulated voice, which was the reason Typhoon had assumed from their phone call that she was a human--her voice was very crisp for a dragon, lacking the rumbly resonances that was common amongst many species of dragon. "I'm Ashley, senior product designer and biomedical engineer from Nolacen Pharma. I believe we spoke on the phone yesterday."
"Ah, yes. Hello!" Typhoon bowed his head in return, and he had to keep a grin of his face. A_dragon_ was a biomedical engineer? Now this was interesting. "Uh, please come in. It's a pleasure to meet you in person."
"The pleasure's all mine."
With Typhoon leading the way, the two swiftwings headed down from the rooftop and into the corridor, before turning towards the main apartment shared by Ian Caedry and his three dragons. The main door had a push bar handle, which Typhoon operated by rearing up on his hindlimbs and pushing with his freshly unbandaged paws.
"I've always enjoyed meeting interesting people, especially a professional racer," Ashley replied, casually making conversation as they walked.
"You're a fan of the sport?" Typhoon said. He nodded towards the table, and the two dragons went over to sit down on large floor cushions that served as the draconic equivalent to chairs.
"I keep with the big tournaments and a few of the regionals. Racing is quite exciting, isn't it? Back when I was just a hatchling I always dreamt about being a racer myself, but I... don't quite have the speed or the agility." Ashley unfurled her wings and flicked them.
Typhoon chuckled. "Heh. So instead you became a biomedical engineer in a huge drug company? That's quite an achievement. I can't imagine there are many dragons working there."
"Certainly the science teams are mostly human, but it is useful to have dragons when we're trying to come up with new potential revenue streams targeting the_dragon_ market," Ashley said in a practiced, manner-of-fact voice, as if she was used to hearing people be surprised about her job. "If someone has the personality and the knowledge to do a job, they ought to get it, and so I did."
"I suppose that's true," Typhoon admitted. "Still, you're the first dragon engineer I've ever met! I've met lots of racers, transports, and even a few wild ferals, but never any engineers. How interesting!"
Ashley looked faintly proud of herself. "It wasn't easy to get this job, I admit, but I shouldn't bore you with my life story. On to our business then. As discussed on the phone yesterday, we've recently started trialling a new class of pharmacological psychoactive substances which will explicitly be intended for use by rainbow swiftwings and closely related species. The main customer base would be companion dragons and personal transports."
Typhoon nodded his head. "Just as you said on the phone call."
"Precisely so." Reaching into the front pouch of her flight harness, she took out a stack of stapled papers. Her paws were exceptionally dextrous for a dragon, and Typhoon idly wondered if she could even hold a pen and write--an ability that usually reserved for humans. "We've already reached sponsorship agreements with several medium-profile actors and media influencers, but a racer like you would also be a public figure we would be interested in partnering with, given your... general association with speed and agility. It's a win-win situation."
Turning her head around, Ashley grabbed the large package slung onto her back and tugged it out of her flight harness. The package was a medium-sized cardboard box that she placed onto the table, and patted with a paw in a faintly proud manner. "Here we go. This is our new product. Market studies have been very promising!"
Typhoon reached out and pulled the cardboard box over. It was heavier than he'd expected, he could hear the faint clink of glass bottles inside. "Can I open it?"
"Please do."
Extending a claw from his paw, Typhoon cut through the tape that held the box shut and he opened it up to take a look inside. The box was filled with glass bottles arranged neatly in rows. Typhoon counted twenty-four bottles, and on tugging one out, he discovered that the bottle was labelled with a fancy labelled sticker with that read "NCP BEVERAGE CO" and had a stylized, geometric logo recognizable as a dragon. The dragon in the logo was standing up with head tilted back, breathing a jet of flame straight up (this fire was also stylized, and also unrealistic, since modern dragons couldn't breathe fire).
Below the logo, a second layer of text read, "FLARE BLACK". This bottle was filled with a black liquid that had the viscosity of water, though there seemed to be other colours of liquid in other bottles. "Hmm. This is your new product thing?" Typhoon said.
Ashley bobbed her head. "Yes! This is it! We might go with plastic instead of glass for the bottling process, but as for the actual drink, this is the real deal. It's called flare--that makes it sound distinctly dragon-related for marketing purposes, but not overly so because it's not like this drink will actually make you breathe fire."
"Hmm." Typhoon tilted the bottle around, watching the black liquid shift about inside. It was actually a very dark brown colour, which he could see if he held it up to the light. "It doesn't look as... pharmaceutical or as medicine-ish as I was expecting."
"Medicine? I apologize if I wasn't quite clear about that on the phone. We do make lots of medicines already, but this product line is more of a... recreational beverage intended for casual use, targeted to dragons. A drink for dragons, by dragons. You can try it out." Reaching into the box, Ashley took out another bottle--this one had a slightly different coloured liquid that appeared to be almost clear. Carefully using one of her claws, she demonstrated how to open the bottle. "Just use one claw and jab right on top of the bottle, and the seal was pop. It's really simple--we spent quite a bit of research time just getting the bottles seals right so that dragons can open them easily."
Imitating Ashley's example, Typhoon used his claw to pierce the metal cap on top of the bottle and it opened up with a soft_pop_. "Oh, that works. Haha." He sniffed at the bottle and got a whiff of an unusual scent that smelled rich and burnt, but not in an unpleasant way.
"So the drink itself is called flare, but the active ingredient is a mild dose of a drug called_sporcicloproquinolene_. It's a synthetic derivative of a traditional brewed herbal drink originating in Southeast Asia and the wider Indochina region."
"Interesting. Let me try." Raising the bottle to his mouth, Typhoon took a swig. The flare tasted... well it was difficult for him to describe it. The drink definitely had a_taste_.
"Uggh. Oh that tastes horrible. Bllurgggh." Typhoon scrunched up his snout and stuck out his tongue. He stared down at the bottle, then took another swig to confirm his first impressions. The taste was so sharply unpleasant that it felt like a shock to his senses. "Ok maybe not horrible, but weird. Very weird. Mmm."
"You might get used to it and end up liking the taste," Ashley told him. Taking her bottle, which was unopened, she gestured to the label. "We've been mixing up several different blends, giving the flare different flavours to see what ends up being popular. My favourite is the one made to taste like lemon tea (this one here, flare yellow), but I believe that particular blend you are trying is flare black. It was made to imitate the flavour of black coffee."
"Coffee?!" Typhoon frowned at the bottle, then he frowned at Ashley. "My owner drinks coffee. You telling me that_this_ is what it tastes like? It's so bitter. Eww. Repulsive." He took another swig from the bottle anyway. "I tried one of Ian's morning coffees once. I don't remember it tasting quite so bitter."
Ashely looked faintly amused. "It's an acquired taste. Coffee, tea, and other caffeinated beverages are mildly toxic to dragons. In fact, that's exactly why we came up with a synthetic drug which should affect dragons in the same way caffeine affects humans, though through a different metabolic pathway, obviously, as there isn't too much overlap in biochemistries. But the effect is almost the same."
Typhoon took yet another swig from the bottled drink--the strong taste was still unpleasant, but strangely intriguing. "And... what effect is that?"
"The general effect is mild but noticeable, reducing the effects of mental and physical fatigue as well as improving alertness. We've already completed double-blinded placebo-controlled clinical trials on several species of nettled glider dragons (which are indigenous to Southeast Asia and Oceania), and we're now rolling out trials on rainbow swiftwings to get information on the ideal dosage, since we believe swiftwings are going to be a major market sector. In total we have about a hundred swiftwings trialling out the product starting this week, although only a few (such as you) also have advertising sponsorship deals signed. Mostly we want to know what people think about the flavours, and learn about any effects."
Typhoon grinned. "So you're using me as a lab rat to test out your drink?"
"Well, you could just do the sponsorship and advertisement deal without tasting the product if you want. But the way I see it is that if you're going to be endorsing our new product, it makes sense to try it out yourself? We do hope to get your honest feedback," Ashley replied.
"That's fair."
"Plus, the FDA is less strict about drug trials when they involve dragons instead of humans--uhh, wait... no. Forget I said that." Ashley covered her snout with a wing, and her white scales tinted slightly pink--scale plates contained blood vessels, and they could sometimes show off an embarrassed blush (especially from dragons with lighter coloured scales). "I shouldn't have said that. Um... Nolacen-Camden Pharmaceuticals prioritizes safety in all our products and has a rigorous testing regime approved by national regulators and global healthcare professionals. Our venture into the beverage market meets all required food safety regulations and standards of both the United States and European Union."
This made Typhoon laugh aloud. "Hahaha. You sure know your company spiel, Ashley!"
Ashley was still blushing. She furled her wing back up, but still looked very embarrassed. "The drink is safe, I swear! It's been taken as an herbal remedy for centuries, and we drink it all the time in the labs. It just makes you a bit more alert and a bit more energetic when you need it. Don't worry--flare is completely safe, just like coffee, or tea, or things like that."
"Ok, I'll trust your science on that. And are there any side effects I should be worried about?"
"There is a very low chance of gastrointestinal distress. Don't drink all twenty-four bottles in a single day or you might get high blood pressure, but otherwise it's very safe. Other than that... try all the flavours and let me know what you think," Ashley said to him. "Flare is going to be the next big thing among dragons. Why should the humans be the only ones with drinks, after all?"
Typhoon nodded, and he looked over the bottles with their four or five different coloured liquids. "I'm glad to be part of the next big thing, then. So where do I sign?"
"It's just a simple thing... No need even for an NDA. You can go ahead and share these drinks with whoever you want, like friends and family."
After he'd read through the paperwork, Typhoon used an inky pawmark to mark his signature on the legal contract, which was basically just a simple agreement for him to do an advertisement photoshoot.
Ashley nodded, looking pleased. "Very good! If you have any other questions or concerns about the drink, feel free to call me. I'll also get back to you sometime next week about having you drop by for the picture shoot. Otherwise... I think that should be everything. Enjoy the drink."
"Sounds good to me," Typhoon replied.
"Thank you for.... Yes. Glad to be working with you, Typhoon." Ashley stood up and bowed her head politely again, then she turned to leave. After a few steps, she hesitated then turned back. "Speaking just personally, can I get your autograph? I... I collect autographs from racing dragons."
Typhoon grinned. "Certainly. It'll be no trouble at all." He had been in the midst of wiping his paw with a piece of tissue, but now he pressed his paw back down on the ink pad. "Do you have a book or something you want me to put a print on?"
"I normally use my scales. Let me see if I can find a loose one. Hmm." Ashley shook herself from head to toe, but none of the countless scale plates covering her body came loose. Turning around, she nodded towards her left side and used the tip of her tail to tap one particular scale on her flank. "So this is definitely getting a bit unprofessional, but could you put your print right there? That scale is loose but still about a day away from being shed. I hope this isn't weird of me to ask."
"I've had other people ask me for much weirder things, so don't worry," Typhoon assured her, and he lightly pressed his paw against her side, leaving a black paw print right on one of the larger of her white scales.
"I am a feather, light and swift." Typhoon declared, then he paused and thought about this for a moment. "No, feathers aren't swift. I am... an oncoming storm, windy and rainy. A typhoon? Whatever."
Taking a deep breath, the dragon spread his wings and leapt into the sky. After long weeks of being grounded, now he was finally able to fly again. Taking off from the apartment tower's roof, Typhoon pumped his wings hard to climb into the open sky, feeling the satisfying swish of air beneath his flight surfaces. The airspace above New York was busy with dragons--freighters carrying cargo, passenger transport dragons carrying humans, or even just unladen dragons flying somewhere. After his first race had ended in a mid-air collision, Typhoon was careful to look out and make sure he steered well clear of other dragons until he had left the dense city centre, where the air wasn't so crowded any more.
It felt so relieving to finally be able to fly for the sake of it. Passing over suburbs and residential areas, Typhoon flapped his wings as he got back into the rhythm of flight. Later today he would begin to train properly again, sprint flying to specific timings and trying to get his wingbeat timings perfectly synchronized, but for now he just focused on the simple pleasure of exerting himself and being high over the busy city.
After a few weeks spent grounded, Typhoon could clearly tell that he wasn't in quite that same peak physical shape he had been in before his race. He was definitely still young and capable, but it would take proper, disciplined training to get back into peak racing condition. And yet this thought brought with it excitement and joy, for finally he was flying again. Opening his jaws, Typhoon let out a cheerful roar, announcing to the world his presence. "Ryyahhh!"
Typhoon took a bite of a tuna sandwich. "Mmh. Nice," he muttered. As he was eating breakfast, he also took a sip from a bottle of flare. Over the past two days, he'd been trying out the various flavours--this particular one was coloured light-yellow, and it tasted zesty and citrusy. Even without checking the label, Typhoon knew this was the lemon tea flavoured variant of the drink, and overall he found it a bit too sweet for his liking, but it was still very drinkable.
It was currently the second morning since Ian had flown off on his business trip to Europe, and the businessman's apartment now felt distinctly empty without the man himself, two of his companion dragons, and the entourage of bodyguards and personal assistants who normally stayed nearby.
Nevertheless, Typhoon wasn't entirely alone--there were a few security guards still present, and housekeeping cleaned the whole place every day--but he couldn't shake a slight sense of loneliness. Now he was eating breakfast, accompanied only by one of the dragon bodyguards who had stayed to guard the penthouse apartment even while Ian wasn't present.
"This is a _good_sandwich. Very nice," Typhoon decided, feeling proud for having made it. Now that his paws were unbandaged, he finally could do things by himself again. "I think I shall make another. Would you like a sandwich, Darty?"
"No thank you, sir," replied the bodyguard in a quiet, polite voice that had a thicker rumbling draconic accent. Her name was Dartemis and she wasn't a rainbow swiftwing like Typhoon, but was a dusky inimical--a species of dragon which also worked closely with humans, though far less often as companions or transports, and far more commonly as air-superiority fighters. Dartemis had dark scales all over, a rounded, flattish snout, and she was about a half again larger than Typhoon. Even if Dartemis wasn't very chatty, Typhoon still enjoyed the company. Eating breakfast all alone had been quite lonely yesterday, and he wasn't going to do it again today.
Typhoon took another slow sip from his bottled drink. "Would you like a drink? This is something called flare. I've been told it's the next big thing. A drink just for dragons, by dragons."
Dartemis looked uninterested. "We're not allowed to eat or drink while on duty."
"Oh, that's a shame. You can take a bottle and drink it when you're off duty, then. So do you think Ian, Gripen, Rafale, and all the others have arrived in Paris yet?" Typhoon asked, as he trotted about the kitchen and looked for more ingredients to make sandwiches. "Europe really is_so_ far away. I've heard that freighter dragons doing routine transatlantic flights can do it in a nonstop sprint, but realistically it might take them a whole day, or several days to make it there, especially with the dreadful weather this time of year. It depends on how the winds are blowing," he reflected. In modern times, meteorological prediction had advanced to the point where dragons could get up-to-date information on winds and other conditions, greatly speeding up long distance flying. Typhoon sent silent thanks to instrument balloons, spy satellites, dragons who flew into storms, or whatever it was that made weather prediction possible.
Dartemis said nothing. She was stoic and serious, making an excellent bodyguard but a terrible conversation partner, as she seemed to be largely immune to any desire to talk whatsoever. It wasn't shyness or social awkwardness--it was simply a natural affinity with being quiet. Her large, dark green eyes watched the windows attentively, occasionally shifting to look around.
Typhoon coiled the tip of his tail around a jar of jam to unscrew the lid. "Gripen said that she would call when they reached there. I hope they make it safely..." he muttered. Awkwardly holding a butter knife with his paw, Typhoon smeared raspberry jam all over two slices of bread. After a moment, he added a dollop of butter and pushed the bread slices together. "Mmh. Yes. Breakfast of champions, this is! Darty, what did you eat for breakfast?"
"I ate porridge," Dartemis replied. And that was all she said.
Typhoon nodded. "Very nice. Healthy choice, that." Taking a big bite of his jam sandwich, Typhoon reached over and grabbed his bottle of flare to take another sip. He still wasn't quite sure if he was feeling any of the supposed effects of the drink, but the taste had started to grow on him. Perhaps this was why Ian always liked to start his mornings with a cup of coffee?
Overall, Typhoon felt like these few days have been properly reinvigorating. He was still slowly ramping up his flight schedule to get back into proper shape, but every day he was making progress and pushing his training just a bit further. He was eating way more than he'd been while bedridden, but that was expected given how much energy he was burning flying for hours each day. That was the life of a racing dragon--train, fly, and when the time came for it, race and hopefully_win_!
Right as he was finishing breakfast, the apartment's telephone began to ring and Typhoon leapt to his feet. He hurriedly scrambled across the room, then slowed down and felt a bit silly for being in such a rush, then changed his mind and decided that it was alright to be in a hurry. The telephone had oversized buttons to be easier for even a dragon's paw to operate, and Typhoon tapped the button for the phone to use its speaker. "Hello...?"
"Typhoon? Is that you?" was the reply, and Typhoon instantly recognized the caller's voice.
"Gripen! Yeah, it's me! Hello. Good to hear from you! Are you in Paris?" Sitting back on his haunches, Typhoon excitedly tapped his forepaws against the ground. Turning towards the dragon bodyguard, Dartemis, he silently mouthed, "Its Gripen!" while gesturing at the phone.
Dartemis raised an eye ridge but looked otherwise unimpressed. She strolled over towards the window wall which bordered the living room and stared out over the cityscape, looking for security threats or whatever else it was a bodyguard did.
"Yeah, we're in Paris," Gripen said, her voice sounding slightly muffled by the telephone's tinny speaker. "I wanted to call you when we reached London, but there wasn't enough time. I don't even have that much time to talk--Ian and Rafale send you their best wishes and stuff, but they've already gone over to the air show. We were a bit delayed because of weather, and the other trade representatives and corporate executives arrived earlier. I'm at the hotel now."
Typhoon nodded enthusiastically, though Gripen obviously couldn't see that. "Sounds busy! How was the flight? Did you make it transatlantic alright?"
"Uh... Weather seemed bad to me, but our flight leaders say it was all to be expected for this time of year. My wings are just... just_used_ after all that flying. I'm going to be achy tonight. Arrgh."
Even without seeing Gripen, Typhoon could tell that she was shrugging her wings. That mental image of the yellow-scaled dragoness made him grin. "Uh huh," he said sympathetically.
"Flying transatlantic is definitely different from a standard domestic route. We had this... we flew out to the east coast, and then we formed up into a big arrowhead formation with a group of greyback nettled gliders doing a cargo flight out from AeroHub JFK to Heathrow. Those freighters do not slack off! They don't sprint as fast as us swiftwings can, but they just_keep_ flapping on and on, nonstop for hours and hours. And this ocean is big.Biiiig. It just goes on and on, endless ocean with nothing but waves and water for_hours_!"
"Sounds like quite an adventure," Typhoon noted.
"It really is an adventure. But how are you? Are you recovering alright?" Gripen asked.
"I'm feeling great. It's really good to finally be able to fly and start my training again," Typhoon replied. "I even managed to get a bit of a deal. Get this--Dr McPhee put me contact with a biomedical engineer from some big pharmaceutical company, and I got a sponsorship deal to try out one of their new products! I'll get to be in an advertisement."
"Wow, that's cool. I've been gone just a few days and already you're becoming a big TV advertisement racing star. Haha... What product is it? Some nutritional supplement or something?"
Typhoon glanced over at the table, where the cardboard box filled with bottles of flare was sitting opened up. "It's actually more a beverage than a drug. Supposedly, it perks you up like how tea and coffee perks up humans, but who knows if it actually works. It is tasty, though. You can try it when you come back."
"I won't be coming back for a week. Take care of yourself, Typhoon." Gripen's voice changed slightly, probably from her leaning closer to the phone and speaking in a quieter tone. "I really do miss you already... Europe is a different place. Not too different, but I wish you were here with me." Then her voice trailed off, and Typhoon could distantly hear someone else speaking. Gripen spoke again a moment. "Ok, I need to go. This trip is business first and there's a tightly packed schedule we need to follow. I'll try to grab Ian when he's free and call you again, but I'm not sure I'll have time. If not, see you next week!"
"Fly safe, Gripen," Typhoon said, and then the line clicked to a flat dial tone. He stared at the phone for a moment, then pressed the button to end the call.
Glancing around the penthouse apartment, Typhoon looked over the various bedrooms--based off television and pop culture, he knew it was increasingly common for human households to own a dragon to be a family's personal transport, but Ian Caedry was probably ahead of the curve in giving all his dragons their own bedrooms the same size as his own. Yet now the apartment felt so empty, with all its normal occupants gone except for him.
At least he wasn't entirely alone. Dartemis the bodyguard give him a silent, stoic nod, and Typhoon chuckled. "Don't you ever get bored of being security?" he asked her.
"No," was all she said in reply.
"Lucky you." Typhoon walked back to the table and scarfed up what was left of his sandwich, then he finished off his bottle of flare and tossed it into the trash bin. He went over to the balcony and spread his wings. "I'm going to go flying again." Leaping into the air, he flapped hard and climbed into the busy morning sky.
The rest of the week seemed to blend together, with days mixing up with each other and everything feeling similar. Sticking to the usual training regime he had followed previously, Typhoon spent most of his free time flying, either sprinting to test his top speed, or trying to maintain a constant pace to build endurance. For lunch and dinner he would call up friends, fellow racers, or even some of Ian's remaining personal staff so he didn't have to eat alone, but overall Typhoon felt much better than he had over the past few weeks. The memory of losing his race stung, but it didn't bother him so much anymore. Instead, Typhoon tried to focus on just improving himself. His life was mostly back to normal, and life was good.
Typhoon paced around the living room, trying not to look anxious. It was just past midday on Tuesday, and Ian, Rafale, and Gripen were scheduled to be flying back and arriving at the apartment sometime in the evening or night. Gripen had finally called again yesterday morning, but once more their conversation had been regrettably brief--the air show had been very interesting and several major deals had been signed between Caedry Aerospace Group and other corporate or governmental partners, but the most important part for Typhoon was learning_when_ they'd be getting back.
He really, really missed Gripen, far more so than Ian and Rafale, even though he missed them too. Gripen was different--she was... well... She wasn't merely his friend; they seemed much closer than that, but were they mates? Their relationship had recently taken a turn towards having actual mating involved, but saying they were mates sounded too formal. Lovers, perhaps?
Typhoon continued pacing around the living room, looking out through the windows at the city. Even the thought of his previous sexual experiences with Gripen made him feel aroused, and he clenched down the muscles of his underbelly just to make sure that his genital slit stayed closed.
After a bit more pacing about the living room, Typhoon went over to the bedrooms. After a moment's hesitation, he pushed open the door to Gripen's bedroom and entered. Whereas the walls of his own bedroom were covered by posters of famous historical racing dragons, movies, and even musical bands, Gripen's preferences were more practical when it came to wall decorations. She had a calendar, a whiteboard covered in slightly cursive draconic writing (made using the dextrous tip of a tail dipped in ink rather than a pen, though not every dragon bothered to learn this skill), as well as even a large map which showed the entire country and all of Caedry Aerospace Group's numerous airports, transit hubs, dragon ranches, and flight routes.
Gripen's bedroom was had been cleaned and her bed was neatly made up thanks to the work of the housekeepers. Typhoon trotted over to a large circular seating mat just in front of the desk, intended for a dragon to sit on since they couldn't use chairs. Even as he sat down, Typhoon could smell the faint, barely noticeable scent of Gripen, left behind from her sitting on this mat over months or years. Curling his neck down, he sniffed at the mat and felt a tingle of lonely longing at that familiar smell. He really did miss her. Or was it weird to sniff at her belongings?
Shaking his head, Typhoon hopped back to his feet and went back to the living room. Heading to the windows, he stepped out on to the balcony and leapt into flight. There would be many hours before the others returned, and he had training to do.
Dragon racing was unlike other races by horses, humans, or other things. The_aerial_ nature of dragon races meant that they could be held in all sorts of different locations--out in the countryside, high above a city's many buildings, even out over a harbour--with the flying circuit simply marked out with large floating balloons or inflatable rings for dragons to fly through.
As Typhoon swooped between the numerous towering concrete and glass skyscrapers that made up the city, he had no real destination in mind. He was well familiar with the urban area, and usually he practiced his flying by timing how long it took him to fly through one of several routes circling around the downtown airspace. Sometimes though, he would just_fly_--no timings, no speed calculations, just pure practice exerting himself as best he could and feeling the burn in his wing muscles.
Typhoon flew through his usual circuits, though occasionally he would fly up high to glance over every dragon in the nearby airspace, looking to see if he could spot Ian and his entourage returning from their trip. When it was mid-afternoon and the sun was about halfway to the horizon, Typhoon finally spotted a familiar sight--a yellow-coloured rainbow swiftwing, beating her wings hard to tiredly flap her way home. Gripen was back! Twisting his wings, Typhoon rolled sharply to match Gripen's course headed back to the apartment tower, and he couldn't help but grin happily.
Surprisingly enough, Gripen was escorted only by a pair of dusky inimicals carrying a half dozen humans on their backs--it was just a portion of Ian Caedry's normal entourage, with the man himself, Rafale, and much of Ian's supporting staff not in the formation.
Typhoon frowned briefly, then he sped up his flight and landed on the rooftop landing pad just after Gripen touched down. "Gripen! You're back!"
"We're back..." Gripen agreed. She nodded tiredly at Typhoon, then strolled over towards the stairway leading down into apartment.
Typhoon also nodded his head at the two larger dragon bodyguards, who were crouched down to let the six of Ian's personal assistants and human bodyguards off their backs. "Welcome back! Where's everyone else?"
"Mr Caedry is still at Aerohub JFK, along with Rafale and most of the other staff," explained one of the other dragons in a deep, rumbly voice.
"Ian decided he wanted to directly brief the rest of the board execs as soon as he landed, so he called a meeting with them for this afternoon," Gripen said as she walked down the stairs. "Which is fine and dandy for him, since_he_ didn't just fly across the entire expanse of the North Atlantic Ocean! But not for me, no thank you! Uggh, I'm so tired..."
Gripen stumbled down the stairway and went down the corridor, her tail dragging on the floor after her. She pushed open the main apartment door and entered, and Typhoon trotted after her. The other humans and dragons went to their own quarters, in a different part of the building.
"So... how was the trip?" Typhoon asked. He pushed the door shut behind them, and then trotted up to walk beside Gripen.
"Nrrgghhh..." Gripen groaned. As she walked, she used her jaws to bite and then pull on the quick release straps from her flight harness, so the gear slid off her shoulders. Gripen walked to the middle of the living room and then slumped down on the carpeted floor, letting her wings slip off her back and splay out onto the ground. "It's just us two, right? No guards or aides in here? Ok. Good. I need to rant."
Typhoon picked up Gripen's harness and arranged it neatly beside the door. Then he walked over and sat down beside Gripen as she lay on the floor. "Proceed?"
"The ocean sucks. It's so big. So much flying!" Gripen grumbled, still with her eyes closed. The dragoness looked just as Typhoon remembered her--about the same size as him and yellow-scaled with a white underbelly, though now she clearly looked exhausted. She also was a bit thinner than she'd been before, and her some of her scales seemed slightly lighter in colour--unlike human skin, which got darker as they were tanned, dragon scales lightened up after prolonged exposure to sunlight.
"Life would be so much more convenient if everyone and everything was in close proximity," Gripen continued. "Whose stupid idea was it to... to have all those different countries spread out across an entire vast_planet_?"
Typhoon tilted his head as he thought about this (probably rhetorical) question. "That would be colonialism. And I think specifically that would be Christopher Columbus, when he decided to discover America?"
Gripen made another tired grunt. "Nrgh. I blame him. I also blame plate tectonics for all these continents... Life would be so much easier if Pangaea had never broken up, and everything was compressed together in a supercontinent. Next time Ian goes on a business trip out of the country, I'm going to just hitch a ride on one of those freighter dragons. Rafale rode on a freighter's back about half the time--I should have just done that too."
Typhoon chuckled. "Haha. What's the point of having wings if you don't use them? If you ride on a freighter's back, you might as well be a human."
"It's windy! And tiring! My wings feel like they're going to fall off after all that flying. Next time_you_can try flying all across the Atlantic Ocean." Cracking one eye open, Gripen turned her head to stare at Typhoon. "Hello, by the way."
"Hello!" Typhoon nodded happily, and he leaned in and tapped his snout against Gripen's.
"You smell," Gripen told him. "Were you training your flying all afternoon?"
"All day, actually," Typhoon said.
"Good for you, but you still smell." Gripen yawned widely, and then she closed her eyes again. "I guess I probably smell too... Just flew across... across a whole ocean... So tired..."
Typhoon licked the side of Gripen's snout affectionately, then he nuzzled her neck. "Hmm, you do smell! But I like your smell. It smells good."
"Nooo, that's just embarrassing..." Gripen muttered, and she shifted her wings to cover her head. "I'm so tired. I've been flying for... I've lost count how many I hours spent flying. Paris is six hours behind, so I'm all time lagged too. I could just fall asleep right now, right here."
Typhoon glanced around the living room. Evening was just beginning, and the sun was still bright. "Your bedroom is just a few steps away. Even the sofa is just a few steps away, and both would be more comfortable than sleeping on the floor."
"No, I can't sleep now. Can't lie on the bed while I'm all dirty." Gripen dropped her wings and yawned widely, letting Typhoon see the inside of her mouth. "I'm not that tired. I'm just... ok, I'm actually very tired. Possibly a bit dehydrated too."
"Oh! Speaking of hydration... Remember that product advertisement sponsorship I told you about on the phone?" Perking up, Typhoon hopped to his feet and trotted over to the side of the room. Tilting his head, he used his jaws to pick up two bottles of flare and went back over to Gripen. He sat down next to her again and put down the bottles. "Look at this! It's a bottled drink--for dragons, by dragons, containing caffeine that's not caffeine. It's called flare. Try it."
Gripen looked faintly suspicious as she took a bottle from Typhoon. "Huh? I thought your sponsor thing was by a pharmaceutical company?"
"I'm not a businessperson. Don't ask me why a pharma company decided to go into the beverage business, but they did." Typhoon used a claw to pop open his bottle. Holding the bottle in his teeth, he tilted his head back to pour a mouthful right into his jaws. "Mmh. This one is called flare brown. It tastes of vanilla and cinnamon, or something like that. There are all these different flavours."
Gripen rolled her eyes. "Most dragons lap up tap water from a pail or a large glass, but you have a bottled drink. You look so smug, drinking that bottle all fancy-like."
Typhoon licked his lips. "Ahhh. I am very fancy. Did I mention I am literally getting paid to drink this beverage?"
Gripen looked mildly amused. "Are they actually paying you a lot of money for this advertisement thing?"
"Compared to what Ian makes, it hardly even registers. But it still makes me a professional, sponsored racer who's going to be in advertisements."
Fiddling around with her bottle, Gripen quickly figured out how to open the top even without Typhoon explaining it to her. She took a cautious sip. "Hmm. It's sweet."
"That one is flare yellow. They say it tastes like lemon tea, but I think it actually just tastes like lemonade," Typhoon replied.
Gripen frowned at him. "I guess it's not bad..." She looked quite amused now. "So this is what you've been doing here. Over in Paris we've been sitting through nonstop business meetings, trade discussions, and... and talking about the future of the aviation industry, while you've been here enjoying bottled drinks."
Grinning, Typhoon nudged the side of Gripen's snout with his own. "Also training to win a race--don't forget that part. If you think about it, we both spent the last week doing what we enjoyed, didn't we?"
"I did enjoy the trade show; that is true. Huuh." Gripen let out a tired sigh. "Flying over the ocean was not fun though. I've got to go wash up." Slowly moving her four legs, she pushed herself into a stand. "Nrrgh, it's my wings not my legs which feel tired, but still it's so hard to move... Ok. Bath time."
"Bath time," Typhoon agreed, trotting after Gripen as she headed to the bathroom.
Gripen carefully unclipped a small wireless headset from her ear and placed it down on the bathroom countertop--that little component was one part of a radio set commonly used by dragons while in flight so they could talk with each other. Gripen flicked her ear and rubbed it with her paw. "Finally I can take that thing off. I've been wearing it for hours. Flying over ocean is so... cold and wet and windy. You can't even talk with each other except by radio."
Typhoon peered at the wireless headset, just to check that it was shut off. Meanwhile Gripen had moved on to biting the strap of the wristwatch she was wearing around her foreleg; it took her a few tries, but she finally got the watch loose and put it down too. Again, this device was designed for use by a dragon--Typhoon also owned one just like it, and he knew it had a compass, an altimeter, and other sorts of useful instrumentation for a dragon in flight.
Relieved of her flight harness and now all the other miscellaneous accessories she was wearing, Gripen hopped into the still empty tub--rainbow swiftwings were amongst the smallest of all dragons, but even they would have to fold in their wings, tail, and even curl their neck around to use a normal human-sized bathtub, but this one was oversized. It could easily fit several humans or indeed, several small dragons, and was practically a small indoor swimming pool.
Gripen twisted a handle and thin streams of water began to pour down from above, sprayed out by an overhead rain shower in the ceiling. The yellow-scaled dragoness closed her eyes and just stood in the falling water, then after about half a minute she blinked her eyes open. "Are you just going to stare at me while I shower?" she asked Typhoon, who'd been doing exactly that.
Typhoon was still sitting out of the hot tub. He tilted his head slightly. "Yes? Yes."
"Hmm. Well, ok." Gripen shifted herself and moved out of the falling streams of water, before turning the tap off. The drain stopper wasn't in, so the water all quickly emptied away from the hot tub. Then with quick, almost impatient motions Gripen grabbed a bath sponge and got soap from a dispenser bottle at the side of the tub.
Typhoon's gaze followed her every motion as she began to rub herself all over, cleaning her scales and lathering up the soap into bubbly foam. Gripen was a lean, almost thin dragon, but a certain amount of muscle was necessary for any dragon to fly. Typhoon found himself staring at every part of her body as she cleaned herself--everything from those wide, thin wing membranes that were pale white that seemed almost translucent, all the way to the pointed tip of her tail which was entirely a flat yellow colour, looking as if it had been dipped in paint. Just admiring how she looked was genuinely tempting, almost enthralling as Typhoon felt a welling of affection and desire.
Even the way she moved endeared itself to him--Gripen's movements were quick, efficient, and almost impatient as if she didn't want to waste time with slowly cleaning herself. There were many dragons who didn't like soap and would instead use their tongues to carefully groom all their scales clean one lick at a time, but not her. She was in a rush, even if she didn't have any practical need to rush.
"Need me to help you wash your back?" Typhoon offered, but Gripen shook her head.
"I got it," she replied, curling herself around to reach her spine with her soaped-up sponge. In just a minute Gripen was covered in soapy foam bubbles, and then she reared back on her hindlimbs and closed her eyes so she could wash her muzzle and her head. She then spent a few moments blindly groping for the shower tap, before Typhoon stood up and grabbed her paw to move it to the correct location. "Mm! Thanks..." she muttered.
"No problem," Typhoon replied. Every moment he spent with Gripen just felt so... happy. Just her presence made him feel better.
Gripen turned the tap and snapped the shower back on. Her snout scrunched up into a grimace at the cold water that briefly pumped out of the shower, and then she let out a soft sigh of relief as warm water began washing away all that soap. "Ahhh..." Gripen shook her head and blinked her eyes open, then she nodded to Typhoon. "Right, I'm clean. Your turn now. Get in here." Shifting to the side, Gripen tapped her paw at the space in the tub right beside her.
"As the boss commands..." Typhoon hopped up over the edge of the hot tub and leapt in. Warm water falling from above immediately got him wet--after having been flying for a whole day, dirt and dust from the air had begun to stick to his scales, and now the water gradually washed it away. "Where's that soap bottle?" he asked, only for Gripen to nudge his side.
"I got it. Sit back--I'll clean you," she told him.
"Ooh, you do like being the boss, don't you?" Typhoon said playfully.
Gripen responded by turning around and giving Typhoon a light smack right on his haunch. "If you don't want me to touch you, just say the word..."
"Oh no, I wasn't complaining. Please carry on." Typhoon obligingly sat back on his haunches, and Gripen halted the shower spray.
"Good. I got to keep my drake clean!" Grabbing the soap bottle, Gripen casually squirted a line of the scale-cleaning soap right onto Typhoon's shoulder blades, then she grabbed a sponge and slowly got to work rubbing it all in.
Typhoon found it mildly amusing how Gripen had been all impatient and hurried with cleaning her own scales, but now she was taking her time with getting him clean. It was so deeply pleasant for Typhoon to feel Gripen's paws touching his scales, and he let out a happy rumble. "Hmmmrrr... I'm your drake now, am I?"
"Yep. You're all mine. I'm just going to be... cleaning all your scales... touching all your muscles... Oh yes. You're my drake and I want you to be all nice and clean for me," Gripen muttered, sounding like she was enjoying herself just as much as Typhoon was. She soaped up his back, then had him unfurl one of his wings at a time to wash those clean, before cleaning his sides and flanks.
"So how was your business trip?" Typhoon prompted, and Gripen casually began recounting her past week.
"Oh, it was... busy. Very busy. We would meet with the executives from one company, then with a representative from the trade bureau, then we would go to see the flight performance of the dragons from one ranch or the other, before hearing a pitch from airport planners... And that was just the itinerary for the very last day. Every single day was like that--I'd have to go get my notebook to tell you every single thing that happened."
"You took notes?"
"Yes?"
Typhoon cracked one eye open and lazily stared at Gripen. "I bet Rafale didn't take notes. I bet she just flew Ian around and acted like a proper transport for him. But then when it was your turn to fly Ian around, you also attended his meetings and even took notes. Hahah."
Gripen scrubbed Typhoon's back a bit harder in response. "So what if I did? I'm allowed to be interested in the aviation industry."
"Mmh. One day you really could take over from Ian and become CEO of Caedry Aerospace Group. Wouldn't that be something--a dragon CEO?"
Gripen looked slightly uncomfortable, and she didn't meet his gaze. "That's not my goal. I just... I like spending time with Ian, and I find the aviation industry interesting. And he was all very encouraging when I asked to attend the meetings, so I thought why not?"
Typhoon had been half-joking, half-serious. On one hand, he certainly believed Gripen was smart, determined, and passionate enough to actually run their owner's business conglomerate, but on the other hand it was an absurd idea to think a dragon would take leadership in what was a human-dominated society. Then again, Caedry Aerospace was a company which specialized in_dragons_ flying cargo and passengers around the nation and the world, so was it really that absurd?
But that was a thought for the future, and as they sat together in the shower, the present seemed more pressing. "Overall, it sounds like your trip to the airshow was very serious and business-like!" Typhoon decided.
"It was serious, and very business-like," Gripen agreed. She used her paw to push on Typhoon's tail base, and he sat down so that she could start soaping up his forelegs. "I could probably talk for hours and hours about all the aviation industry developments that I learned, following Ian around as he went for all his meetings and tours. But I guess that would bore you."
"You can say whatever you want and I'll listen to you!" Typhoon assured her, which got him a pleased grin from Gripen.
"Mmh. Perhaps later I shall bore you..." Gripen tugged on Typhoon's tail, getting him to stand up so she could use the shower sponge to soap up his hindlegs. "But what about you? How has your week been all alone here?"
"Very routine," Typhoon said. "I've been back to flight training and flying circuits. The only interesting thing is sponsorship thing I picked up at the start of the week, getting those bottles of flare drink."
Gripen perked up. "Oh, that! Are you going to be on TV?"
"Hmm, I don't think I'll be on TV, just a bunch of still photos for advertisements in magazines or on posters," Typhoon admitted.
"Still, you're a big racing star now." Gripen tapped Typhoon's chest, right on his wing muscles. "It's weird to think no one thought of selling luxury beverages to dragons before. I guess that's cause most dragons don't earn much disposable income."
Typhoon grinned "Maybe when you're CEO of Caedry Aero, you can start paying all the freighters better wages."
Again, Typhoon had been joking but Gripen analysed his remark properly. "Caedry freighters_do_ get better wages. We're industry-leader for a reason. Counting the food, shelter, and healthcare benefits, we pay our dragons some of the best rates in the industry, and it shows in their employee satisfaction and flight performance metrics."
"Employee satisfaction and flight performance metrics? You really do sound so professional and business--ooh..."
His sentence was cut off by a soft moan as Gripen started running the soaped-up shower sponge across his underbelly. After a week of isolation and abstinence, just that one single touch was enough to get him aroused.
"Maybe I should check _your_satisfaction and performance metrics," Gripen sly muttered. Then she looked all embarrassed. "Wait, what am I even saying?"
"Haha." Typhoon leaned down and affectionately nuzzled Gripen's neck, leaving a small splotch of soap suds on her scales. "Have I mentioned that I missed you? I really, really missed you, and was all lonely over the past week?"
"And I missed you too, Typhoon..." Gripen's attention was now clearly focused not just on cleaning Typhoon's scales, but on teasing him. Gently she ran the sponge over his genital slit, pressing on the spongy, sensitive flesh contained within, and his body immediately reacted.
Typhoon felt his heart beating harder, sending blood rushing to both of his phalluses and quickly inflating them. The lips of his genital slit bulged, then parted open as his two shafts both began to push out and erect to full length. "Yesss..." he murmured.
Gripen grinned. "Look at you. It is so... sexy to see how easily I can get you all worked up. Just the slightest touch and your two...things... pop out." Though she was staring at those twin lengths of quickly stiffening masculine flesh, she instead used the sponge to rub Typhoon's thighs, then his tail.
Typhoon shivered. He was so ready for what Gripen was obviously teasing him for. His penises were fully erect, both jutting out from his underbelly side by side--two sleek spires of unscaled blood-engorged flesh, dark-reddish in colour and mostly smooth except for those slight bulge at the bases which were his still uninflated knots. Each phallus was throbbing slightly with every beat of his heart, and Typhoon could barely keep still. "Gripen, I want you..."
Gripen paused, and then she finished soaping up the white tip of Typhoon's tail. "Unnf, I wanted to tease you," she admitted. "I thought about you every day in Paris, and all the way flying back across the ocean I was thinking about this moment when I was going to tease you so slowly until you were just about_begging_ me for it, but I forgot that I would be teasing myself too. Typhoon, you magnificent racing drake, I want you too." Gripen tossed the sponge aside and turned on the shower. Instead of having it pour down from above, she grabbed the showerhead and used the hose to quickly spray Typhoon down, washing away the soap she'd spent so long applying. Then she switched the water flow so that it all started flowing from the rain shower instead. Water sprayed down from above, but Typhoon wasn't paying much attention to that as Gripen turned around so her hindquarters were facing him.
Gripen curled her neck around and used her jaws to grab the tip of her tail, then she shifted her head back forward to pull her tail up and away, exposing her underbelly as she crouched down on her forelegs. She could have just lifted her tail or moved it aside, yet Typhoon found the gesture amusing and yet sexy, which had probably been the whole point.
Then Gripen paused. "Uhh. You know, I was trying to be sexy, but this is actually a pretty good stretching posture."
Typhoon burst out into laughter. "Hahaha... Are you really that tired out from flying?"
With her tail still held in her jaws, Gripen rolled her eyes at Typhoon. "Do you have to ask? It was the_Atlantic Ocean_! I flew across the entire Atlantic Ocean! Of course I'm tired." Standing back up again, she released her tail and extended the appendage towards Typhoon. "Can you help me pull my tail? My back needs a good stretch."
Typhoon grabbed Gripen's tail with his jaws and forepaws, then he pulled on it while the yellow-scaled dragoness held on to the other side of the tub. "Ugggh. Pull harder. Harder. Ooh, that's nice," she murmured. "Yeeeesss..."
"Mmh." Right between his legs, Typhoon could still feel both of his penises were fully erect and just begging to be used, but his own pleasure took secondary priority behind Gripen's. Pulling on her tail though, it was hard to resist tilting his head to look towards her underbelly. For a long moment he just helped Gripen stretch her back, until about a minute later when she flicked her wings.
"Ok, enough," Gripen told him. Typhoon stopped pulling, though he still held on to her tail. "Thanks for that. That was a good stretch. Now where were we?"
"I think you know." Still holding onto Gripen's tail, Typhoon tugged the appendage up and Gripen obligingly raised her hindquarters and lowered her forelimbs. This position exposed her underbelly, and that was a sight Typhoon couldn't resist.
Moving forward, his snout darted straight for that thin cleft of slightly engorged flesh right at her underbelly--her genital slit--and Typhoon began licking with a ravenous hunger. Her scales were freshly cleaned and smelled faintly of soap, but Typhoon didn't mind. Gripen shivered and moaned as he ran his tongue over her sensitive spots, and Typhoon gently pushed his way inside her. The mineral, salty taste of her slit as it oozed liquid arousal was not inherently pleasant, yet Typhoon had become accustomed until it was the best thing he'd ever tasted.
Gripen pushed her hips back, pressing against his hungry snout and encouraging him to keep going. The first time they'd tried any sexual act was usually more cautious, more hesitant, and even more communicative as they explored each other and figured out what they liked; but now Typhoon didn't slow. He'd done this before and knew_exactly_where Gripen liked him to use his tongue, and he did precisely that to lick, press, and repeatedly swirl his muscular organ to give her pleasure. That spot there, and that other spot there, and just a bit of pressure and repeated motion...
"I've really missed this. One whole week without... Just so... Ohh... mmh... right th--there..." Gripen moans got softer, and yet Typhoon also knew that this was a sign he was succeeding--from past experience, he found that Gripen often got very quiet right as she was approaching the edge of a climax, almost as if she was too overwhelmed to even vocalize her pleasure. After a week apart she was clearly as eager for this as he was, and soon Typhoon heard a short, choked-off gasping moan that told him he'd given her what she wanted.
"Ahhk--Typhoon...!" With his snout buried in her hindquarters Typhoon didn't get the chance to see Gripen's eyes squint shut and her lips bared in an unrestrained expression of pleasure, but he could hear it.
Even as he kept running his tongue up and down the line of her genital slit, Gripen went all stiff and her hindlegs trembled for a moment, and then a small splash of warm, slickly lubricating fluid caught Typhoon right on his snout. His nostrils flared as he took in the scent of Gripen's arousal, and her slit clenched down and gripped on his tongue when he next pressed it into her depths. Typhoon slowed his efforts, keeping his movements slow enough to drag on Gripen's pleasure with overwhelming her, until finally she shuddered all over and let out another long, relieved-sounding moan. "Whoooo... Yes..."
Typhoon licked his lips. "You are the tastiest snack I've ever had."
Glancing over her shoulder, Gripen made eye contact with him and grinned. "Am I? It doesn't really count as_eating_, does it?"
"Doesn't it?"
Gripen straightened herself up, and sat down on her haunches. Her brow fowled as she thought about this. "I've heard it called_eating someone out_ so I suppose it might count as eating? But oral sex as the tastiest snack ever? Hmm... You can't chew, or swallow. There's some taste, but no texture."
Typhoon just shook his head, smiling at Gripen. She really did love to overanalyse his remarks. "There is texture. You've certainly got texture, especially when I can feel you clenching down on my tongue."
"Fair enough. I suppose there isn't any comparable food which can squeeze down on your tongue, is there? Actually, I did once read about a Korean delicacy where they have octopus legs which are served fresh so that while you're eating them--"
Typhoon used a paw to playfully tap Gripen on her nose. "No, no! Bad dragoness. I'm going to stop you right there. Don't you mess up our sexy bath time with your random trivia about gross Asian seafood. That is_not_ appropriate foreplay."
Gripen just giggled. "Hehehe... Alright, fine. No more talking about the gross seafood. We can do the sexy things instead." She turned so she was once again facing away from Typhoon, then she crouched down again, raising her hips and shaking them from side to side. It was clear invitation that Typhoon found nigh impossible to resist, and he shifted forward to climb over her.
His chest pressed up against her back and her furled-up wings, and his forepaws grabbed her hindlegs, then her sides. It was just all instinct now--Typhoon moved his hips to line up with hers.
The tips of his phalluses slid against her thighs, then rubbed against her underbelly until one managed to press right up against Gripen's opening. He was about to press forward and just waiting to feel that wonderful first stroke, when Gripen's tail suddenly curled around the base of his erection. "Wait. Wait now!"
Typhoon did not want to wait. It took a heavy dose of willpower not to just thrust forward into Gripen and hump madly. "Uh? Umm... why?"
"That's the wrong one. Remember I did lefty before I flew to Europe, and I said I would do righty when I came back?" Gripen leaned her head around to playfully lick at the underside of Typhoon's neck. Using the dextrous tip of her tail, she quickly swapped his phallus out of the way for the other one.
Typhoon actually chuckled at that. "Hahaha... Ok, first--does that really matter? Second--lefty and righty?"
"No, it doesn't matter," Gripen admitted. "Left or right doesn't matter if we do both at once..." Her tail tip casually curled around the bases of both his erections and squeezed them together side by side--but then after that moment's teasing, she relented and lined up just the left shaft. "Not today. One day I'll finally manage to squeeze them both in at once, but not today. It's too much of a stretch for me to do it spontaneously."
The idea of attempting sex simultaneously using both his erections at once was actually more of a kink of Gripen's, rather than Typhoon. For him, and as was presumably the case for other biphallic dragons, his two penises worked in inverse. Simple biology was that they were supposed to be used one at a time, and stimulation to one side would actually cause the other to lose erection.
"Righty then," Typhoon agreed, and for a split-second he felt a flash of embarrassment at using a silly (though perhaps accurate) nickname for his own sexual anatomy. Then lust and heated desire swept away that concern, and he pushed his hips forward to thrust into Gripen. That first, slow penetrative stroke felt like absolute gold, and both dragons moaned in pleasure. It was all warmth, and wetness, and soft sliding friction as they coupled with each other in the most primal of ways.
Typhoon thrust forward until his own genital slit was pressed up against Gripen and he was fully inserted into her. That uninflated bulge at the base of his erection spread her folds slightly as he hilted himself, and it just felt so absolutely, wonderfully right to be here, with her, inside her. Faced with such satisfying sensation, Typhoon's right shaft seemed to stiffen up just the faintest bit more, while his left shaft quickly softened and slipped back into his genital slit, getting out of the way so it wouldn't interfere.
That first thrust was slow, cautious as he carefully explored her insides, before slowly pulling back out again until only his tip was still penetrating. The second thrust was slow too, getting used to the motion and enjoying the wet, slippery friction. But after that, no more hesitation.
Typhoon managed to hold still for a moment, and then he began to thrust madly. With unrestrained movements he slid his hips forwards and back, driving his phallus in and out of Gripen. His breath came in short fast pants as pleasure cascaded through his body. Each stroke sent a jolt of ecstasy running through his whole length and deep into his underbelly, and Typhoon surrendered to the instinct and pleasure of mating. It just felt so good, so very right to be holding another dragon close.
His paws tightened around Gripen's side and his tail curled up with hers, giving him a proper grip to keep mating with her. Each thrust went deep, and barely pulled out slightly before he shoved himself back in--that all-encompassing warmth and soft tightness around his most sensitive of organs was like the most intimate hug imaginable. Spreading open his wings, he mantled them around so that his flight surfaces were covering them both, keeping them sheltered from that steady spray of water coming from above.
No more talking, for there wasn't much to say in that moment. Gripen moaned and squirmed and shifted her hips to press back against him, and her hindlegs trembled as Typhoon kept thrusting. Each stroke in and out seemed more rewarding than the last, building up that intense pleasure until it became overwhelming.
Typhoon pressed his snout against Gripen's neck and breathed deeply--her scent was barely even noticeable under the flowery odour of soap, but it was there and Typhoon loved it. He loved her scent, and the curves of her thin, slender body, and the soft moans she made as she too approached a peak, and just everything about her got him aroused.
After a week's abstinence, it didn't take much to set him off. Typhoon felt a tightening sensation deep in his underbelly as his body prepared to release--he was at the point of no return, where any continued stimulation would send him spiralling into orgasm, but he kept thrusting just as hard and fast as before. "Gripen..." Moaning her name, Typhoon gently gnawed on Gripen's neck scales in a loose mating bite.
For a few seconds it felt so delightfully wonderful, and then suddenly his whole erect length seemed to spasm with oversensitivity. Typhoon jerked and went all stiff, and he shoved himself deep and kept still as his body ran through instincts his mind could not hope to resist. Right at the base of his phallus, his knot bloated with blood and expanded enough to lock him into Gripen and prevent him from thrusting or even pulling out. At that pressure, her vaginal muscles squeezed and gripped his whole length, moulding to him as their mating reached its conclusion.
"Gripen! Graaahhh...!" Typhoon growled loud, almost roaring as an orgasm crashed through his senses. His eyes snapped shut, and his mind soared. Warm spurts of whitish seed flooded out through his erection, each bringing a fresh wave of bliss that overwhelmed him and made him shudder.
"Mmhh..." Gripen moaned as well, and Typhoon could feel him twitching as well as she too hit a climax. Typhoon clutched his mating partner against him, and his wings closed up to wrap around them both. It felt so absolutely relieving to release himself inside her, in a way which nothing else really did.
The pleasure kept pulsing on, keeping the world suspended and unimportant until finally a sense of satisfied sluggishness slowed everything down. "Hmm. I really missed you..." Typhoon let out a satisfied hum and he nuzzled against the side of Gripen's neck.
"You said that already. But I missed you too," Gripen replied. For a moment she stayed still, letting him rest upon her back, then she wiggled slightly and Typhoon got the hint. He shifted his weight back to his hindlimbs and opened up his wings so he wasn't hugging Gripen tight against his belly. His still mostly erect phallus slid out of her, leaving behind a glistening trail of fluids on her hindquarters.
In a slow movement, Gripen flipped herself around so that she was lying on her back and then she stared up at Typhoon, snout to snout. In that moment of shared eye contact, Typhoon felt a sense of mutual intimacy and adoring affection that made him want to hug her again and never let go. Gripen was clever, and beautiful, and witty, and driven, and very similar to himself in many ways, yet different in just as many ways. The way she just_looked_ at him was enough to make him smile.
And then water sprinkling down from the shower above made Gripen cover her face with a paw. "Ahh, that's getting in my eyes. Make it stop."
Typhoon laughed, and he moved his wing to shelter both their heads. "Haha, you just flew across the Atlantic Ocean, and now you're defeated by a bit of water from the shower?"
Gripen giggled as well. "Hehehah... It wasn't raining when I flew transatlantic! I didn't fly through clouds, let alone storms, so_yes_ I don't like getting water in my eyes!"
"You can't take a shower without getting wet." Typhoon raised his head and opened his jaws so that water collected in his mouth, then he lowered his jaws and playfully spat it at Gripen.
"Noooo...! Hahaha..." Gripen playfully tapped her paws against Typhoon's chest, and she shook her head from side to side to flick off water from her eyes. "You're the worst! That's the opposite of making it stop!"
"Fine, fine. As the boss commands." Typhoon reached his paw over to the side of the hot tub and pulled a lever. He assumed this would divert the water flow away from the rain shower, but instead there was a_clunk_ noise and water continued pouring down from above. "Uh... How do I operate this thing? How do I switch it to tap mode?"
Gripen snickered so hard that a line of mucus dribbled from her nose, which she hurriedly wiped away. "Ahahah! You don't even know how to work the shower? We've lived in this apartment for_years_!"
"Don't you mock me! I don't take baths often! I normally just take a simple shower and so I don't know how to mess around with all these taps and levers," Typhoon retorted. He nodded towards the mass of chrome piping at the side of the hot tub. "Is it this lever? It's this lever, isn't it?" Typhoon pulled another lever and this time the rain shower finally cut off, to be replaced by a flowing stream of water from a tap at the side of the tub. "There we go. Got it."
"Well done," Gripen murmured, possibly sarcastically, though she was grinning widely. Still lying on her back underneath Typhoon, she grabbed the edge of his wing and folded it shut against his back. "For your information, that first lever you pulled was the drain stopper. With the stopper closed, the tub is now filling up. If we wait for long enough, this shower will become a nice hot bath."
"Oh?" Typhoon shifted his position so that his forelegs went beside Gripen's sides, pressing down on her partially unfurled wing membranes. The water was very slowly rising and it only just formed a layer around his paws. "What would you do if I just stayed in this exact position, pinning you down and lying on top of you while the water slowly rises until you drown?"
Gripen smirked. "Just drown, I guess. Or maybe I'd pull you down with me so we could both drown together. What a way to go--drowning in our own apartment, in our own bathtub, holding on to each other." Neither scenario was particularly realistic--dragons were flying creatures after all, and with their hollow bones and lightweight bodies, they tended to_float_.
"Hmm... Or maybe I would try to distract you," Gripen added. Her paw slid down Typhoon's chest and groped his underbelly, casually wrapping around his partially-erect right shaft which had been midway through slowly retracting back into his genital slit. "I just did the right one. Maybe we should do the left one just to make it even." Her brow furrowed slightly as she thought about this. "Do you ever think about the balance between both your two penises? Like do you suppose you've cum more often through one than the other?"
Typhoon resisted the urge to laugh again. "No, I have not thought about that. I've always just... I've lived with two cocks all my life and I've never really considered that. The natural instinct is to alternate, so I suppose it should be the same number of orgasms for both sides? It seems like you put more thought into the fact that I have two cocks than I do."
Gripen gave him a smug look. "Well of course! My favourite drake has two penises, so of course I would find it super interesting and kinky."
For a moment Typhoon wondered if there was some celebrity or famous dragon who was known for being biphallic; then it occurred to him that when Gripen mentioned her_favourite drake,_ she was just talking about him. That was a happy thought.
"I'm telling you--one day I'll manage to fit both of them inside me at once," Gripen muttered. "Or maybe we could try you having one inside my slit, and the other inside my butt. Is that more or less kinky?"
"Equally kinky? Double penetration, just in different ways?" Typhoon replied.
"I'd still love you even if you just had one, but it's even more fun that you've got two. You're my_double dicked dragon_," Gripen muttered, then she burst out into laughter at what she'd just said. "Ahahaha, why did I say that? Oh that's so vulgar. It's true, though. Two for one..."
Typhoon just smiled. Just not so long ago he would have been shocked by hearing Gripen speak in such a risqué manner, but now they could discuss mating and love and sexuality, and it was delightfully casual yet intimate.
Gripen's paw was still wrapped around his right erection, and now she began to firmly stroke up and down. Typhoon was still feeling slightly oversensitive from his recent ejaculation, and this stimulation made him flinch. Whereas normally his natural reproductive instinct was that touching one of his phalluses would make the other side less erect, now this instinct was inverted. Even as Gripen kept rubbing his right phallus, his left phallus pushed out of his genital slit as it quickly inflated with blood--as if to say,use me instead.
Gripen did that too. Using her other paw, she grabbed Typhoon's other phallus and began rubbing them both in unison. Internally his reproductive glands and organs were somewhat independent--each phallus connected to one of his internal testicles, which meant that despite his earlier orgasm he still had plenty of semen to release.
"I want to see both at once," Gripen decided. "Both going off at once, like a... double fountain."
Typhoon let out a soft huff of breath. "Huh...! Not sure that's possible. That's not... It's supposed to be only one at once..."
Still lying on her back, Gripen just kept rubbing his phalluses and getting them both worked up. The water level was very slowly rising in the bath tub, but it would take a long while before it was filled. Meanwhile, Typhoon sat back on his haunches and just watched as Gripen used her paws to play with him. That initial burst of oversensitivity from his recent orgasm faded quickly, yet still the stimulation was almost too much as both his phalluses were rubbed at once. It was twice the pleasure his body was used to handling, and it made him squirm and shift from side to side as his hips bucked against Gripen's strokes.
It had been a full week since his left erection had gotten a proper release, and so it didn't take long for him to approach that climactic peak. He'd been feeling all satisfied and done after having mated with Gripen already, but now her paws stroked him towards that cliff edge of orgasm. Typhoon tensed up, and he used his paw to tap Gripen's side. "I'm gonna..." he warned her, but she didn't let him.
Both his erections were rigidly standing out from his underbelly side by side, but the knot at the base of his left erection started to bloat up and expand. Simple biology--dragons had ancestrally (and sometimes still did) mate while flying, and a male dragon's knot was a bit of anatomy which prevented semen from being wasted. A knot could partially lock a male into a female, but its real purpose was to sense for that ideal, deeply penetrative stroke which meant impregnation was most likely. It was very sensitive, and usually the trigger point for a good orgasm.
Even as Typhoon's knot swelled with blood and bloated to almost twice the normal size, he felt his pleasure surge up to just below orgasmic levels... And then all that pleasure stopped as Gripen just halted her stimulation to that side. Her paw went still, just holding the upper portion of his left phallus, while her other paw went even faster and frantically stroked his right phallus. "No you're not. I said I want to see both at once," Gripen casually said to him.
Typhoon's eyes squinted shut, and he let out a choked gasp. "Ghhannnghh...!" It was like a tough blend of intensity and overstimulation, with teasing doses of pleasure but not the rewarding orgasm he'd been waiting for. He wouldn't have tried doing something like this to himself, but having it done to him by someone else gave him little control over his pleasure. Being stroked so quickly, his right phallus's knot finally began to swell up just as his left one began to shrink back down as the other side then tried to trip over orgasm.
"Hah. Now it's the other side. Still not both at once," Gripen said. She sounded so casual, so absolutely in control as she played around with his body and did what she wanted. Typhoon found that really turned him on, despite just how aroused he already was. "Is it actually possible to get you to shoot from both sides at once?"
"I've never... never done it... simultaneously..." Typhoon gasped, his hips trembling as Gripen kept stroking his lengths.
Gripen's gaze was alternating between Typhoon's groin and his face, as she played with him and watched his reactions. "Well, I want to see it. We're in the bathtub, so this is the ideal scenario for you to make a huge, sticky mess all over," she told him.
Typhoon just moaned incoherently. "Nggh..." It felt like everything was just intensity and pleasure, almost too much to tolerate but not in the normally stimulating way which would have set him off. Typhoon danced about on his hindlegs, shifting from one paw to the other as Gripen' kept rubbing both his erections. Both sides fired out that instinctive sensation that the other side should lose erection, yet the direct stimulation kept both fully rigid and tantalizingly close to orgasm. The plumbing of his twin genitals wasn't entirely independent--there were still some seminal glands and vesicles which connected with both sides, and it felt like internal valves were flip-flopping from one side to the other as his body kept trying to prepare for ejaculation through one phallus, then the other.
Gripen just didn't let him--she even pushed his phalluses apart so that his knots wouldn't press against each other and accidentally set him off, and it was almost torturous to be kept so close to orgasm without being able to get over the edge. "It's just so convenient that I can see your knots swell when you're about to release--makes it easy to edge you. So come on. I want to see both at once ..." she teased, and Typhoon shook his head half-heartedly but Gripen just kept going. "I'm not squeezing your knots till both of them swell at once."
She was just toying with him, keeping his pleasure entirely under her control and refusing to let him get off. Typhoon would feel himself approaching the edge of orgasm from one side, but then Gripen would focus her strokes on his other side and that stimulation felt right but also wrong. Closer and closer to climax, from one side then from another. Gripen's tail coiled around his, holding him close even as her paws played with his lengths. Typhoon was panting heavily now, moaning as the pleasure kept building up in his underbelly without ever releasing. "Oh... Huhh... That's...intense..."
He wasn't sure if what Gripen was trying to do was even possible--so then when it finally happened, it took Typhoon completely by surprise. Normally he could tell when he was about to release, but this time it just came entirely out of nowhere. Gripen suddenly made a pleased chirp. "Hey!" Her paws both slid down to the base of his shafts and grabbed both his knots, and Typhoon bucked his hips instinctively as his whole body was paralyzed by unbelievable intensity. His knots were exquisitely sensitive and finally Gripen stimulated him right there, firmly massaging the base of his erections.
"Uhhk!" He couldn't say anything as his breath caught in his throat, and his eyes went half-lidded. Warmth surged into his underbelly as muscles deep in his groin spasmed, and a few seconds later a massive wave of pleasure made his head spin. Both his erections twitched, and in unison they each fired out a large jet of white, sticky semen that sprayed over Gripen's chest.
"Ahharrr..." Typhoon moaned again as a second wave of pleasure blasted through his body, and once again his two phalluses fired out a long spurt of semen from their tips. Each spurt came out at a slight angle, and this time there was even more fluid than before. Much of his semen splattered Gripen's chest and even her chin, and some even went beyond that to splash into the water of the slowing filling bathtub. Gripen's paws were still tight around his knots, massaging them with gentle squeezes and dragging his orgasm out even as Typhoon coated her with his seed.
Immediately after that, the pattern of his muscles altered and Typhoon felt things change. Waves of pleasure kept overwhelming him, but they were so much slower than normal and seemed to last for a blissfully long time. Instead of both shooting at once, his erections both twitched but only one side would release semen--left, then right, then left again, and so on as he slowly emptied himself out. Each wave of pleasure welled up within him, and Typhoon had no control over his body as the process kept going. His groin muscles would completely relax as if they were paralyzed, right until the next wave hit and everything would clench up so hard and fire out another jet of semen. What little of his mind was still conscious managed to register the thought that it was like hiccups--he knew it was coming, but he couldn't quite predict when it would happen until all his muscles spasmed again.
After what seemed like minutes of that overwhelming pleasure, it finally started to fade away and Typhoon collapsed limp onto Gripen. He felt totally, absolutely drained in a way which he very rarely did, and a dense cloak of sleepiness threatened to cloud out his thoughts.
"Ooh, wow. You really can_do both at once," Gripen said, and her voice was enough to stir some of Typhoon's thoughts back into action. "You made a_mess over my chest. And over your chest too, now that you're lying on me again."
"That was... so good..." Typhoon managed to say. "Gripen, I just want to... say that you are the best thing in my life, and I could hold you forever and just be happy... My cute little banana yellow dragoness... You're gonna be a dragon CEO one day..."
Gripen giggled, and she licked the side of his snout. "Are you thinking straight? I think you came so hard that you addled your brain."
Typhoon blinked his eyes, and slowly he shook off the lethargy. "It was the best pawjob ever. Almost too good."
Using the tip of her tail, Gripen pulled over the hose and started using the shower head to slowly wash off her chest and underside. "What a mess. Can you imagine if that had been inside me? I'd have been leaking for hours."
Typhoon just nuzzled Gripen's neck, licking her scales affectionately. "Hnnrr..."
"Yeah, I love you too." Gripen finally reached over to the tap and shut off the water flow entirely. "Alright, I think our bath is over." Flicking her wings, she slid herself through the partially filled tub and out from under Typhoon, before rolling over and standing up out of the water. She pulled out the drain stopper, and slowly the accumulated water swirled away. "I'm going to take a good, long nap. I think I deserve it after doing all that flying."
Typhoon yawned, and he too stood up out of the water. "Sounds like a good idea. Have I mentioned that I missed you? I never realised how lonely it was to lie in bed all alone until I spent the whole week alone."
"Don't lie in bed alone, then. I'm coming to your room to share your bed. I could use some snuggling." Gripen said. She shook herself all over, sending water droplets flying everywhere, and then she hopped out of the tub. "Actually, no.You're coming to my room. It's so much neater there."
Typhoon was pretty sure he'd have slept in any bed in the world, as long as Gripen was there with him. "Mm. Whatever you say, boss dragon."
"Come on then." Gripen let the tip of her tail loosely coil around Typhoon's paw, and she tugged him after her.
END
If you want to read another story featuring these same characters, try Racer's Roulette.