Flamboyance

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Gay avian smut. Three of the best words in the English language to find together in one sentence.

6,000 words.


I allowed myself a small squawk of triumph as I landed. Waking up so early had been worth it. I'd just claimed one of the best perches on the whole seafront. It had an eye-catching position on a slight promontory, overlooking a busy section of the promenade. And best of all, there was only one other perch on this corner - and that currently empty - meaning I shouldn't have too much competition for attention.

This wasn't going to be a repeat of last year. Last year I'd arrived late - much too late - and had been forced to settle for a fourth-rate perch at the unpopular north end of the promenade, almost hidden from sight behind a large thorny bush. I hadn't mated with a single female that year.

I looked myself over and chirped in embarrassment. The early start and hurried flight hadn't left time for grooming and there were feathers sticking out at odd angles all over the place. Prime location or not, I wasn't going to woo anyone in this state. I began the slow, methodical process of putting myself in order, preening my feathers into their proper arrangement with my beak.

"Ahem."

I looked up. A female, staring at me quizzically. I was, at that moment, in a particularly unflattering position, bent round upon myself almost beak-to-bum to preen my tail feathers. I straightened so quickly I nearly unbalanced myself.

"Ah... sorry about that," I said. "I wasn't expecting anyone so early."

"What can I say? The early bird catches the stud."

Stud? I shifted nervously from foot to foot. "My name's Stud. No!!! Seppiae! My name's Seppiae!" I felt my neck feathers fluff up in embarrassment.

"Well then Stud, or Seppiae, or whatever your name is, why don't you show me what you've got?"

"Why not? Here I go..."

I spread my wings and began.

The mating display is a freeform art, but the aim is - in essence - to show off your natural assets and try to hypnotise the female with your beauty. I'd practised hundreds of times in front of a mirror, and I was determined not to make a muddle of it now. I began very traditionally, weaving my body from side to side and letting my wings waft up and down. My voice warbled through a serenade I dearly hoped sounded lyrical and enticing, but half feared actually sounded reedy and confused.

I was horribly conscious of my unfinished grooming, but nevertheless I was optimistic. My plumage had come out well this year. Just a few months back I'd been the same nondescript brown as any female, but that had all changed now. Breeding plumage came in many shades, but mine was green. My wingtips were green. My eyestripe was green. True, my back remained a stubborn brown, but my breast and throat were a pleasing pistachio shade. It was my tail feathers, however, that were my foremost pride. They were a deep, dark green shot through with patches and swirls as bright as spring leaves in sunshine, producing a most magnificent display when fanned out and wiggled.

Turning my tail on her, I fanned out and wiggled. They were - I was almost certain - irresistibly seductive little wiggles. Once I felt I'd wiggled enough to get any female salivating, I spun back seaward to claim my admirer.

She was walking away down the promenade, eyeing up another male a few perches down.

I drooped. Was it my incomplete grooming? My singing? My dancing? Perhaps there was something wrong with my plumage? Was it my wings? My tail? My crest?

My crest! Belatedly, I remembered to raise the tall crest of emerald feathers on my head. I couldn't believe I'd forgotten to raise my crest. No wonder she hadn't been interested!

I'd just about finished my grooming when a flurry of wings announced an arrival on the corner's other perch.

"Well met, neighbour," said a smooth male voice.

"Well met," I said before turning to regard my new competitor.

I squawked in dismay. He was gorgeous.

His feathers were vivid orange and red. Entirely orange and red, without even a hint of brown, giving him more the appearance of a flame than a living thing. And he was perfect. Not a single ruffled feather anywhere; his shape sleek and streamlined; his beak a polished alabaster curve.

He bowed and spread one wing, flashing scarlet feathers. "Allow me to introduce myself. Quiriprotelytix."

I wilted a little further. Even his name had mine outclassed.

"Seppiae," I replied. "Quiriprotelytix, did you say? That's quite a beakful."

"Isn't it, though? Do call me Quiri, if you prefer. Either will sound just an sweet to me in your melodic voice."

"Quiri it is, then." I bowed back, feeling a little more comfortable now that my name was no longer being overshadowed. "Best of luck in the mating, Quiri," I said without meaning it.

"Oh, I just know it's going to be a good year for me. I'm eyeing someone up already." His sharp black eyes grazed over me. "I think you could be in for a good year too, Sep."

I was beginning to doubt that very much.

Every good perch was occupied now by males of all hues and shades, lining the edge of the sandy bay like gaudy sequins sewn into the hem of a rippling brown sheet. Females passed up and down the grey stone promenade, eyes sliding greedily from one male to the next. Snatches of warbling song glided through the air now from my left, now from my right. A flurry of wings a little down the shore and a female flew up with a smug-looking male close on her tail, heading for the privacy of the woods behind me. A few minutes later I heard squawks and moans of pleasure spilling through the trees. Other couples, less modest in their passion, had dotted themselves across the broad sands of the bay, dots of flashing colour in that drab, watery landscape.

Oh, how I longed to be one of those lucky ones.

But things were going badly. Quiri was stealing the attention of every female who passed by. I thought my own plumage quite fine, but placed next to Quiri I looked positively drab. We both perched with our crests raised, our wings slightly unfolded to give just a cheeky hint of the bright colour within. But his wings were so much brighter, and his crest taller, and everything about him so much more dazzling, that of course the females all homed straight for him like bees to a flower, barely giving me a second glance as they buzzed around him.

One thing gave me some comfort: his technique was far from perfect. His stance, for instance, wasn't quite right: he should have been facing straight forwards to face the passing females, but instead he was perched at a bit of an angle so that only I got a full view of his best side. And everyone knew it was important to make eye contact with females, but Quiri seemed to spend more time watching me than looking at our prospective mates. He didn't even bother to display when asked, just shook his head politely at the many, many requests.

Despite this appallingly amateurish behaviour, he was still putting me in the shade. I considered relocating, but all the good perches had gone already, with a flock of males circling overhead waiting to pounce on any freshly-unoccupied spot.

Damn Quiri and his red feathers! Of course the females were drooling over him. Hell, I was male and I could barely keep my eyes off him. But... maybe all wasn't what it seemed?

"Hey Quiri," I said at a quiet moment, "is that plumage natural?"

"Every feather just as Nature has blessed me."

"I don't believe you."

He regarded me with those deep black eyes and tilted his head in question. "No?"

"Nobody has plumage like that. You must have dyed it."

"I promise you I haven't."

"Of course you have. I've got you figured out. That's why you're not displaying. If you started shaking yourself about, you'd splatter everyone with red and orange dye, and there goes the illusion. Or are there brown patches where you couldn't reach under your wings?"

In answer, Quiri unfolded one wing for me, revealing untainted orange and red feathers, if anything more dazzling than the rest. He flapped the wing a few times. No dye splattered out.

"An elegant theory Sep, but wrong. I'm just as you see me."

"I still think it's dyed. It's a nice job, but it has to be fake."

"Do take a closer look if you fancy it."

He offered the wing for inspection. I hopped off my perch - keeping a close eye on it in case any opportunist started towards it - and approached. Pointedly ignored the proffered wing I chose a different patch to inspect, a suspiciously scarlet band on his nape where most males had brown feathers even during breeding season. He bent down obligingly and I nuzzled my beak into those feathers, sniffing. They had an ordinary, unremarkable, distinctly male scent, and nothing else. I stuck out my tongue to lick one plume. It tasted like feather. It remained scarlet.

"...These are natural."

"Every single feather." He shook himself, ruffling his plumage. "But I've no objections if you want to nose that beak of yours wherever you like, if you want to make sure."

"No, I believe you now."

I returned to my perch. Nuzzling my beak against his neck had left me with an... odd sort of feeling.

"So why aren't you displaying? You could have mated three times already today, if you'd wanted to."

"Oh, I'm waiting for someone really special to ask me."

I puzzled over that. Some of the females he'd turned down had been desperately beautiful. Almost as beautiful as he was, I found myself thinking, and then puzzled over that thought too.

"But why aren't you displaying, Sep?"

"Why aren't I displaying?" My crest twitched in irritation. "I'm not displaying because no-one's interested. No-one's interested because the most stupidly handsome male in the whole province is perched right next to me. Why would anyone be interested in me when you're right there?"

He gave me a careful look. "Sep, did you just call me the most handsome male in the province?"

"Of course you are! Just look at you!"

He glanced casually over his vibrant plumage. "Well, perhaps I am the handsomest. But you're the prettiest."

"I... what?"

"And I know at least one person who's very interested in you."

"Oh really? And who might that be?"

But before he could answer we were interrupted by a female voice. "Oh, you are just sumptuous. You're coming with me to make an egg. Right now."

I turned to her, vaguely hoping this comment had been directed at me, but of course it wasn't. Her eyes were feasting on Quiri. She was a particularly attractive specimen, with sparkling intelligence in her eyes and wonderfully fluffy, mottled plumage down her breast. So I was surprised and slightly peeved when Quiri once again turned her down.

"A most flattering offer, my lady, but my attentions are currently engaged elsewhere. Perhaps, however, you'd consider my companion Seppiae here for this honour instead, who is as amiable and eligible a male as you're ever likely to meet?"

She turned her attentions to me, looking uncertain. Her eyes raked through my plumage.

"Hmm. I don't know. He's not bad, I guess." She shrugged her wings. "Alright then Seppiae, let's have it. Dance for me."

I spread my wings and performed my mating display again. I felt particularly self-conscious with Quiri observing me as well, giving me the feeling I was displaying to two instead of just one. But I delivered a solid performance with no major mistakes, and a better-than-usual attempt at song. I remembered to keep my crest raised. And after I'd wiggled my tail feathers at her and turned back round, she was still there.

"Not bad. Not too bad." She looked at me thoughtfully. My heart raced. "But... no. I can do better." She bowed to both of us. "Best of luck, gentlemen." And she was gone.

I stared discontentedly at the ground. "I suppose you found that rather amusing.".

"Amusing? No. I'm genuinely disappointed for you. She clearly has deplorably poor taste. But, I'm also quite relieved."

"Relieved?" I glared at him.

"Well I wouldn't want to lose your very pleasant company."

"Hmm. Right."

"If it helps, I thought your mating display was rather cute."

"Cute?!" I bristled. "It's not supposed to be cute."

"Well that's where you're going wrong then. You are cute. Cute as a bug on a bush."

"But I don't want to be cute. I want to be handsome and virile."

"Oh, there's nothing wrong with being cute. Lots of females like cute. I like cute. You'll have better luck if you stop trying to fluff yourself up as big and masculine and just let your cuteness blossom."

"And how do I do that?"

"Well, take that mating display of yours. Very cute. But that tail wiggle at the end..."

"That's the best bit!"

"I couldn't agree more. But it could be even better."

"How?"

"Show it to me, and I'll talk you through it? I only got a side view last time."

It felt odd to face my rump towards another male and fan my tail feathers, odd to allow him a clear view of my cloaca. Odder still to make myself perform the same wiggling seductive dance that was usually reserved for female eyes.

"Mmm, that is a treat for the eyes. But maybe... stop wiggling around like that?"

I stopped wiggling.

"Sep, has anyone ever told you that the pattern of colour on your tail feathers looks like a deep, rich forest with sunlight dappling through the canopy?"

"It... it does?"

"It does. And the effect would be all the better if instead of wiggling, you moved like a forest."

"Moved like a forest? What are you talking about?"

"Think of how a forest moves. It sways. It rustles. Sway for me, Sep. Rustle for me."

"Like this?"

"That's better. But slower." I felt a wingtip resting on my rump, guiding me. "Like this. Sway. That's it. Nice, gentle, soothing motions. Perfect. Looking at you now, I can imagine I'm in a green and pleasant woodland. It calms the soul. Draws the eye in, nice and welcoming, towards the pink spot in the centre. Very cute."

I swallowed, nervously. Of course I wanted to draw the female eye towards my vent, but I wasn't sure I wanted him ogling me there. Although, there was a strange tingling excitement to know he was looking right at my privatemost point.

"Have you seen enough now?" I asked.

"Heavens no, I could watch this for hours."

I decided enough was enough, and turned back to face him.

"How did you become such an expert on mating displays anyway?"

He shrugged in false modesty. "Just a natural talent."

"Oh really?"

"Really. Every single person who's seen my mating display has mated with me. I've never had even one rejection."

I eyed his plumage again, and could believe it. But I wasn't going to admit I believed it. "Unlikely! But I think I see now why you're not displaying to any females. You're no good at it, are you? Plenty to say about other people's displays but hopeless at your own, is that it?"

His eyes met mine, a challenge in his gaze. "Would you like to see my mating display, Sep?"

"I think I would, yes."

His crest perked up. "Finally! I thought you'd never ask!"

He spread his wings out full, and for a moment he stood perfectly still. His vivid red flight feathers framed the warm orange of his breast nicely. When he began to move it was in quick, flashing motions. If my own plumage resembled a forest then his certainly resembled a flame, and he moved like one too. His wings darted up and down unpredictably, one moment a low and crackling blanket of fire close to the ground, the next blazing up into the air in an inferno. His voice was a hot, bright crackle and whistle that soared and leapt in time with his wings, the sound melting through me and warming something inside. His whole body leapt, twisted and danced; flickering, wild and all-consuming; except for his head which stayed perfectly motionless. His black eyes like smouldering coals burned into my own.

It was hypnotic. I couldn't have looked away if I'd wanted to. It was only gradually that I realised the dance was over, that he was still once more, regarding me inquisitively.

"Well? What do you think?"

"That was..." I struggled for the right word. "That was hot. Really, really hot. I can see why you've never been turned down. Damn it, I'm male and I almost want to mate with you."

"Almost?!" He looked aghast. "I see I have to try even harder." And he began to move again.

It was a different dance this time. Very different. Where the first had been fast and flickering, this was slow and smouldering. His wings and body rippled and sinuated in subtle but suggestively sexual motions. Turning his left flank to me, he let his tail feathers fan out wide. They were brightest of flaming red at the tips, changing to fiery orange further in, finally fading to hot yellow and incandescent white nearest to his rump. He spun about 180 degrees, quickly, so quickly that I caught only the briefest flash of pink as his tail display streaked past my eyes. He swung his tail back the other way, and I watched with surprising eagerness for that cheeky glimpse of pink. Now at last he let his rump face towards me and linger, his tail feathers spread wide in every direction. He wiggled them in a shimmering motion, and my eyes were drawn irresistibly in through those concentric circles, first of red, and within that orange, and within that yellow, and within that white, and within that the stems of his quills circling his juicy pink cloaca like a crown.

The display over, he turned to face me once more. "How about now, Sep?"

"Quiri, I..." I struggled to find the words to describe the hot, sticky need his display had aroused. A need I'd never before felt for another male, but that burned just as bright as any other. There was no point denying it, or evading what must happen next. "Let's go have sex."

We settled in the sandy mud of the bay, just above the waterline. My talons sank in with a soft squelch. We'd flown there by a most circuitous route, chasing each other through the air and nipping at each other's tails, flashing and flirting as we flew in joyful interlocking spirals.

Quiri draped one wing over my back, rubbing his warm flank against mine. The curve of his beak nuzzled my neck while his tail twitched teasingly against my own. The promenade and the world beyond seemed impossibly remote. The only sounds were the whoosh and tinkle of waves on the sand and the slide and rustle of feather on feather.

"Did I ever tell you how cute you are, Sep?" I felt his words tickle the feathers on my throat.

"You did. Repeatedly."

"Good. Let me say it one more time, just to be sure. You're cute, Sep."

"Thanks. Did I ever tell you you're gorgeous?"

"You didn't! But better late than never." He rubbed his beak against mine.

"You're gorgeous, Quiri."

"We're both gorgeous." He stuck out his tongue to run along the underside of my beak."

"So... what happens next?"

He moved his beak away and questioned me with his eyes. "Have you never done this before, Sep?"

"Only with females."

"Oh, that's alright then, you already know what you're doing. Just pretend I'm female."

"I don't want to pretend you're anyone except yourself."

"Aww, you don't just look cute, you talk cute too!" He rippled his beak through my crest. "Would you prefer to be on top, as you're more used to females?"

"Only if you don't mind?"

"Oh, I don't mind. With you, Sep, I'd happily do it on top, on bottom, back-to-back, upside-down, mid-air, side by side... anything you can think of. Or all of them, one after the other. But let's start with you on top, shall we?"

He sat down in the sand with his tail towards me, and began to perform a seated variation on his mating display. His wings fanned up and down, and his neck bent round to let his black eyes meet mine in invitation. But my attention was fixed on his magnificent tail feathers, which were once more spread out and upwards, presenting their concentric circles of shimmering red, orange, yellow, white and pink. I'd barely wanted anything so badly as I wanted to rub myself against that pink spot, and it was only an effort of will that held me back from throwing myself on top of him straight away. But I didn't, not yet. I'd mated with a few females over the years, and I'd learned some things. One of those things was that they enjoyed a bit of beak play before the real mating began.

I moved my head into the shadow of his tail so that first the red tips of his feathers disappeared outside my field of view, then the orange parts too. I was left staring at just his yellow and white inners with his pink bulls-eye an inch in front of my beak. I pushed two inches forwards, nosing his softest spot, making him twitch. I inhaled. He smelt thickly masculine.

I worked him just as I knew to work a female, rubbing the curve of my beak up and down over the moist pucker of his vent. And just like with females, it worked a treat. He let out a warbling murmur which crescendoed to an urgent rippling cry. Not only could I hear his pleasure but I could feel it, by the twitching, pulsing heat building in his loins. And I could smell it too, with the sweet stench of sex rising off him like steam.

Rub, rub, rub. Up and down, in quick, slippery little motions. It didn't take long, to bring him to a climax.

He emitted a broken squawk; I felt his cloaca twitch, and a moment later it exploded in a gush of hot seed.

It splattered all over my beak in an instant, some travelling up as far as my nostrils. I snorted instinctively, clearing my airways and returning some of his seed in a fine spray delivered across his tail feathers. I kept my beak firmly pressed against his cloaca until his last dregs of orgasm had squirted their way out, and then pulled away. Cum flowed from the point of my beak in a thin white stream, painting strange hieroglyphics onto the clean brown sand. I opened my beak to say something and a volume immediately slipped inside, tasting intensely salty. Raising my head, I gulped it down.

Quiri, panting slightly, regarded me with some amusement. "Well, well. Cute and full of surprises. Aren't I the lucky one?"

"Not as lucky as me."

"Oh, you're too cute for words, with your beak in that state. Mount me right now Sep and indulge yourself on me. I insist."

I didn't need asking again. I hopped onto his back, my talons finding firm purchase amongst his flaming carpet of feathers. Spreading my wings for balance, I lowered my rear - his tail sweeping up and to the left as mine press down and to the right - until, after only a moment's trial-and-error to find the right spot, our genital openings met.

I'd thought it would feel different, with him being a male. But physically, everything felt just like with females I'd mated with in the past. It was the same position, the same bubbling thrill, the same perfect feeling of our orifices conjoined in an intimate cloacal kiss. As I began to hump him there was just the same blissful sensation from our vents rubbing together as if I were humping a female. The squawks and trills he let out were the same, and so were mine. I could have closed my eyes and quite comfortably imagined I was mating with a female. But I didn't close my eyes. I stared down in wonder at the brilliant fiery plumage beneath my, gazed in rapture at the flaming red of his crest feathers bobbing about in front of me. My beak still dripped, leaking tiny drops of white cum over the red feathers of his nape.

There was a whoosh and sigh of water, and a far-reaching wave made it far enough up the sand to lap at Quiri's wings and breast, white foam discolouring his feathers. The tide was coming in fast. I paused uncertainly.

He bent his head round and blinked at me, puzzled. "Why've you stopped? I was enjoying that."

"I think you're going to get very wet if we don't move further in." Another wave tickled against him as I spoke.

"The sea can get me as wet as it likes, Sep, just you concentrate on getting me nice and wet under the tail."

I gladly resumed my humping after giving him a tender nibble with my beak. I kept an eye on the waves as I worked him, wondering if each one would be the last before my own rising tide flooded out into orgasm.

Whoosh. The sea lapped against Quiri's breast, seeping into the soft orange feathers.

I was nearly there...

Whoosh. The next wave parted around him and met on the other side, trickling back out through his plumage and soaking him completely.

Close... so close...

Whoosh. I felt him sway as the wave hit his side, the sea surrounding him and not retreating, leaving him an island.

I squawked.

I squirted.

I felt my seed gush out of me, gush against his own vent and - finding no ingress - gush down into the sea with a trickling splash. A few weaker squirts - and weaker squawks - followed, and then all was still and quiet. The next wave carried globs and lines of white suspended in the water like spectres as it flowed out.

We retired further up the sands, out of range of the rising sea for a while yet. I looked at Quiri and laughed. His whole underside was sopping wet, with sand and the odd bit of sea debris lodged in his feathers. The downy feathers below his vent were matted white with my seed, and his own seed was dripped across his nape and sprayed across his tail feathers.

"Not so gorgeous now, huh Sep?"

"Oh, you're still gorgeous." He was. Somehow, through it all, his vibrant plumage still dazzled. "Do you want to find somewhere to dry those feathers?"

"I do. I was thinking I might dry myself off by jumping on top of you and rubbing myself all over you, if you don't mind a new experience."

I didn't, and to show him how little I minded I dropped to the sand right there and then. I'd barely got my legs tucked away comfortably before he was leaping on top with a shrill cry of delight.

I'd never been on this end of a mating before. The wet weight of him, the firm sharp grip of his talons on my back, set me quivering. He eased down into position, sighing contentedly as his vent settled once more against my own. I felt his beak nibble at my neck.

"So Sep, how would you like to be taken?" His voice was a warm whisper.

"Like this. This is good. Very good."

"Ah, but there's still an important decision to be made. I know four different styles of mating for this position, and I'm a master at them all."

"Four?"

"Four. Would you like to sample them?"

"Just get on and hump me, Quiri."

"With immense pleasure."

He began thrusting his rump, pushing his vent firmly against my own and pulling slightly away in rapid pulsing kisses. I moaned. Our cloacae, well primed with seed already, made a rude little squich squich squich sound as he moved.

He paused. "That was the first style. Felt good, didn't it? I know it felt good, because that's what you were doing to me a few minutes ago and it felt heavenly. But it's not the only way to mate. Would you like to feel another?"

"Anything," I said, needing him to start moving again.

He did, but this time it was different. He shifted his whole weight backwards and forwards on top of me, drawing his vent across mine in an up-and-down stroking motion, making my tail feathers twitch upwards with every forward thrust. I dug my talons into the sand, stretched back my neck and trilled in pleasure.

"Mmm, you like this do you?" he crooned gently. I nodded, and gave me a few more enthusiastic rounds before pausing again.

"That was number two. Would you care to try number three?"

"Yes..."

He kept his body still this time, and waggled his tail. He waggled it from left to right, sending his vent slipping from left to right against my own. The motion was much slighter than the hearty rubs our cloacae had shared in the previous style, but he made up for it in frequency. Quiri could waggle his tail from side to side very fast indeed, and every movement sent a little shiver of delight through me.

"Enough!" he said, stopping suddenly. "I can see you liked that too. But I have one more to show you."

"Yes! Please!"

This time it was circles. He shifted himself in subtle serpentine ripples that made his opening rub against mine in sensuous circles of pure pleasure. My whole body shook, and I let out a feeble little "whee" sound quite unlike my normal voice.

"Which is it to be?" he asked, pausing once more. "How would you like me to carry you to your next orgasm? Number one, two, three or four?"

"The circles," I gasped. "Keep doing those circles, you crazy thing."

He nipped me affectionately. "Circles it is, then."

The circles were no less marvellous on their second helping. I tried to join in, to move my body in rhythm with his own, but my position beneath him afforded me no freedom of movement and I resigned myself to being a passive partner. But there was no question that Quiri was enjoying himself just as much as me. I heard the trilling gasps as he approached an orgasm, and then the circles abruptly stopped as he pulled his vent tight against my own and shuddered. His seed was hot and wet and it tickled my pucker as it squirted out, trickling down into my plumage below.

"Exquisite," he sighed. "Are you close, my pretty one?"

"I'm close."

"Then let's continue as we were."

He carried on working me in the same wonderful little circles, and it didn't take long to bring me to my own second climax. He was still circling as I spurted, his motion rubbing my sticky seed into our feathers on every side of our vents. Only when my last feeble little trickle of cum had left me did he stop moving. There was a wet squelch and a pull of suction as we moved apart.

I thought that'd be it - that after coming twice he'd be ready to rest - but I'd underestimated his stamina. As I stood trembling and panting to my feet he rolled over onto his back to lie upside-down on the sand, with his wings spread out flat to either side and his legs sticking up in the air. A comical position, but I was too busy staring at his seed-splattered pucker, raised heavenwards, to find it amusing.

"Hop on," was all he said. I was still tired and tingling from the second orgasm but as I regarded him there - resplendent in soft, vivid orange, his dark eyes blinking invitingly - I knew I'd find the stamina for a third.

I hopped on.

My legs wrapped around his hips, and my vent pressed very easily against his vent in this strange position. I stared into his eyes and they stared back. We touched beaks.

Circles. He'd rubbed me in circles, and I wanted to try it out now I was in control. I began to work him clumsily, struggling to reproduce his motions that had seemed so effortless.

"Sep, Sep, stop, stop."

I stopped. "Not good?"

"Oh, it was good." We touched beaks again. "But stop trying to do my moves. I want to see your moves."

"Um... I'm not really sure what my moves are."

"Oh Sep, my little green beauty. Sway for me. Sway like a forest."

I nodded. I closed my eyes, tried to picture the way a forest moved, then opened them again. And I began to sway.

I swayed slowly, shifting my weight now from left to right, now forwards and backwards, like a sapling in a gentle wind. Every movement caused our vents to rub or kiss in tiny, subtle motions. My wings spread and rustled like a restless canopy of leaves. Quiri gazed up at me as I swayed, and I gazed down at him. I felt the rise and fall of his breath beneath me, and adjusted my swaying to fall into soft rhythm with that.

"You make such a beautiful forest, Sep," he murmured.

We touched beaks, and I began to pulse my rump in a more insistent motion, but slow, slow, like the creak and shiver of ancient boughs. Quiri sighed in appreciation as I ground against him, our vents locked as tightly together as an oak is rooted to the earth.

I swayed. I rustled. I ground. Quiri's legs twitched, and his talons sank into the feathers of my breast, pulling me closer. He lay beneath me like a carpet of autumn leaves. Feeling the sap building in my loins I let myself grind a little faster; it was no gentle wind that blew through my branches now but a mighty gale. I moaned like tortured timber. His claws tightened on my breast. I rustled my wings one last time, then with a convulsive shiver I felt my seed spurt out in an ecstatic liquid pulse of pleasure.

But right as I came, so did he. We squawked in rapture at just the same time - our eyes flickering but never leaving each other for a second - and we let loose our juices at the exact same moment. My seed spurted out and met his trying to spurt in, welled up for an instant and then shot out from the point of contact in sticky white jets. Again and again we spurted, soaking our feathers and the sand beneath. At last I slumped, exhausted, his breast rising and falling beneath me in rhythm with his panting breath, his beak murmuring back and forth through the feathers of my crest.

"So what'll you do now?" I asked him

"Oh, you know, what I always do. Prowl the promenade, try and find the second-prettiest male and corrupt him utterly."

"Only the second prettiest?"

"Well I've already corrupted the prettiest." He nudged me playfully.

We stood preening each other with our beaks, teasing out the sand, the debris and the white snakes of dried cum. It was a big job; we'd made quite a mess of each other.

"You know... if you want to leave the second-prettiest alone and spend more time with the prettiest, you're more than welcome."

"Oh Sep, that sounds lovely, but I've kept you from the females for too long already. You need to use some of this seed of yours to plant a few eggs, make sure the cute genes make it to the next generation."

"I... I'll try."

"Don't try, succeed. Be cute, be confident, and they'll be swarming all over you. The season's young, and you're quite a catch."

The preening was done at last. He was back to his untainted blazing glory, and I was back to my brown and green neatness.

"Well, Seppiae." He nodded at me. "Very well met. Very well met indeed."

"Any you. Thank you, Quiriprotelytix. Thank you for everything."

"It was my pleasure. All the best of luck." And with that he took to the air in a flap of red wings. "We'll catch up next year!" he shouted down from the sky. "And we'll see what new tricks you've learned!"

I watched him fly away until he was no more than a red dot. Then I returned to the promenade. All the perches were taken, except one. It was at the unpopular northern end of the promenade, almost hidden behind a large thorny bush. I settled onto it with a sigh. There were no females in sight.

But then suddenly there were. A female touched down in front of me, then another. And another, and another. This crowd was - inexplicably - heading straight for me.

"Are you Seppiae?" asked the leader of the deputation.

"I am."

"It was you who was out on the sands with the orange and red male, wasn't it?"

My neck feathers ruffled in embarrassment. "Ah. You saw that, did you?"

"Saw it? We couldn't keep our eyes off it. We were all watching. That was seriously hot stuff."

"Um... thanks?"

"Now, I've heard that your friend only goes for males. But how about you?"

"Me? I'm... um... flexible."

"Reeeeeally?" The females looked at each other significantly. They seemed to be trying to puff themselves up, all trying to catch my eye.

"Would you display for us, Seppiae? Please?"

"Well, if you insist..."

I spread my wings. And I swayed like a forest.