Rabanastre Respite
Persimmon and Behgi made their way through the desert around Rabanastre and have an inn room all to themselves. What's a quick fling out on the balcony?
The world was an oven with a glaring, beastly sun beating down upon the brow of anyone unfortunate enough to be outdoors. The high, stone buildings did precious little at the sun's zenith, noon heat chasing most everyone indoors save for the few animals that appreciated the sun's rays to build them into a languid daze. Everyone, save for two.
Behgi's blue scales glittered in the glaring midday sun as he tossed their traveling clothes over the railing to bake in the midday sun. The trek through the desert towards Rabanastre had been exhausting, but now they could take their time and relax. Could. They weren't about to, though. Even as he took care to throw the last bit of their desert-caked clothing over the railing, his traveling companion was having other ideas.
Persimmon's fingers tugged down the waistband of the bangaa's hakama, reeling them down until the prize he was after slipped lazily out from under the thin clothes and into the sun. Almost immediately the moogle pressed his nose alongside it, his hands leaving the waistband for something more interesting. Curling those furry digits around it, that seemed to finally interrupt Behgi's train of thought enough.
"You little-" He began to chastise, his voice croaking for a moment as lips pressed right at the base of his shaft. Persimmon's nose twitched as it drunk in that heady aroma, the warmth of the reptilian's body at its most potent. A soft, pink tongue lapped gently around the base, starting to work its way up as that phallus responded to the attention, stiffening up into a length as long and thick as the moogle's forearm.
"Haaah. Been too long. The carriage was too cramped to do anything..." The moogle mused, his rabbit-like ears swiveling this way and that to take in the ambience of the streets below their balcony perch. "No one's out there, anyway." His voice was soft, lips pressed against the underside of the bangaa's cock. "Just let me have this, damn you."
The fingers of one hand wrapped as much as they could around Behgi's dick, feeling the pulse of life pumping through those veins as those digits failed to meet around the circumference of it. Pumping up slowly, the moogle's tongue soon began to wander along in time with those thrusts of his palm up the opposite side. The flavor was sharpest here. Pungent, musky, salty, it stuck on tongue, dizzying his skull with the cloying haze of it. Dried sweat strong from the road, along with a taste of the bangaa's scales somewhere underneath it all. "Ku-poooooo..." Persimmon's voice trilled out through his lust-maddened haze.
Behgi gripped the wrought iron railing with his claws, the bangaa looking down at the street below. No one would see, right? Their clothes were draped just perfectly over the barrier to the outside world that anyone at street level couldn't possibl- His fingers gripped until the knuckles turned white as the moogle's insidious tongue curled up under his glans. Precum oozed out in thin dribbles along Persimmon's soft orange-furred face, thin lines of it getting smeared when the moogle lifted his free hand to wipe clean.
That mess wouldn't be a problem for much longer as the moogle gingerly parted his lips. Wide. Wider. Wider. Straining his jaws just slightly below the point of pain, the moogle finally managed to wrap his lips around that fat beast. The precum oozed thicker on his tongue, throat greedily bobbing as he swallowed it down and luxuriating in that heavenly flavor. Steadily, easily, he introduced that fat head to the back of his throat. He had to adjust his head, getting a bit more under the bangaa but it was worth it. He could ease it into his throat, his palms gripping to either side of that monster of a dick.
His head started to bob. Slowly, carefully, not wanting to scrape his teeth by accident along that beautiful dick. Above he could hear Behgi's voice drop from a gasp to a constant, heavy grunt. Persimmon would have smiled if he could, that laden panting was always a sign that the bangaa wouldn't last terribly long even if he took it slow. They both needed this one today, it seemed! Persimmon didn't mind that he was just leaking on the inside of his own pants, he'd take care of it later or... he glanced up. Behgi's eyes were closed, his lips curling at the sides and baring his teeth as that pleasure spiked through him. The poor bangaa was already on the verge and the moogle almost felt bad about stopping... almost.
"Behgi..." The moogle's voice teased, his wings fluttering as he lifted himself up to the railing. The bangaa opened his eyes to the blinding rays of the sun, looking down quickly and squinting as they adjusted. Fuzzy orange cheeks bared, Persimmon was draped over the railing like the rest of their clothes and a knowing grin plastered on that smug face. The bangaa sneered as he stepped forward, lining his spit-soaked cock with the moogle's tender backside.
And he thrust in. Hard. Bottoming himself out inside of those eager cheeks, hearing Persimmon barely manage a whimper of lust as that fat rod filled him to the brim and then some. Behgi lowered himself down against the moogle, half-supporting him with a hand under his chest so that the moogle's wings didn't have to keep doing the work. His shaft twitched deep inside, Persimmon could just about feel the heartbeat in him so full he was of the bangaa's cock.
Out. Inch by inch, that tool left him feeling hollow as it retreated as Behgi's other hand curled around the stem of the moogle's pom. A hard grip later and suddenly the moogle wasn't quite so empty anymore, his eyes glazing over in a moment as starbursts flashed in his vision. Out again, but this time not so nearly torturous or forceful, the bangaa settling into a steady, clapping rhythm. Sweat shone through the moogle's fur as Behgi rutted him, both of them losing each other somewhere in all the commotion, gasping, pleading with one another to keep it going. Just a little longer! Just a bit more!
Persimmon squealed in barely restrained bliss as that dick ground against his prostate, pulverizing that bundle of sensitive, eager nerves into oblivion and then some. The moogle didn't stand a chance of lasting in stamina, his heart fluttering as he came. Thin, arcing ropes of his own essence spilled down onto the stone balcony, thankfully only a few errant drops flung themselves free to land on their drying clothes.
Behgi's voice growled heavily into one of those rabbity ears, his teeth worrying up along the outer edge of one. If he'd been close just with the moogle's blowjob, it was nothing compared to what it felt like to breed the moogle stupid. The bangaa's eyes clenched shut as he slipped in one last time with a heavy thud of hips to hips, his balls resting against the moogle's own cherries before they drew taut. And again. And again. Each lift of those heavy spheres another gusher of cum into a too-small receptacle, most of it spilling back out and down in thick, heavy droplets onto the stonework where it sizzled slightly in the desert heat.
Persimmon's belly lifted up his shirt slightly by the time the bangaa had finished cumming inside of him, leaving him so deliriously full. Gentle arms carried him into the inner chambers of their rooms, the shade immediately cooling them down as the bangaa dropped them both weightily on the soft silks of their bed. The moogle murmured quietly as he settled in against Behgi's chest, breathing in that erotic, spiced scent of the man's sweat. Rabanastre always had its delights.