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Alternative title: Sindel & Malak: Enter the Geckos

Night fell over the city. When one wandered the streets, it was difficult to notice much of a difference. In my many places, the buildings were so tall that they blocked out most of the sun, and the glare of nu-neon lights ensured that nobody ever saw a single star, bar for those depicted in advertisements. Even worse, much of the poorer quarters of the city were underground, where residents would never see even a single ray of sun. Some, for their entire lives. In that darkness, crime and misery festered, following poverty like ravens followed war. Yet, for all the filth and grime, when one was submerged in it, it almost felt like home. It was home for most of the city's population. A neon-lit hellhole where millions lived their lives, loved their partners and one-night stands, and raised their children. Where they suffered and where they enjoyed things. The prospect of a better life was so distant that most of the dwellers of the poorer half never even saw it.

What was visible - from a few rare angles or the odd apartment building facing the right way - was the other half of the city. The high rises and the high life, only a bridge away, and yet too expensive for most of the poor to even dream of visiting. Even the streets were heavily guarded by militarized police protecting a population a fraction as dense as on the poorer side. Visiting was difficult to imagine unless one won the lottery. Staying was impossible.

Sindel and Malak had spent many days sitting on one rooftop or another, the two twins dreaming of that better life that most never even dared imagine. They were twins; geckos of a vibrant green, and though Sindel was female and Malak male, most people who looked at them couldn't tell the difference, owing to their androgynous builds. Growing up with little, the reptilian twins had first fantasized of earning a life on the other end of the bridge, and when it became obvious that nobody earned that life, they'd taken a different approach. They'd take that life for themselves, as much as their sticky fingers could grab. A taste, at least, of how the others lived.

In short, they were thieves. At this point, very good ones.

Tonight, that well-off half of the city shone even brighter than usual. In one of the massive high-rises, an event would soon begin, announced by sweeping searchlights illuminating the starless night sky even further. An opera. It was also the golden ticket for the twin geckos. They knew exactly what the event would be, in vivid detail. Their source - a staff member eager to make a few extra credits - had told them about the setup.

The event was a kind of romanticized representation of the poorer half of the city. A depiction of poverty by people who had never seen it, who only had a theoretical image of what not having any money might feel like. They were all the rage with the rich, the contact had told them. The setup was always the same for the events. A story of some young man or woman finding love _despite_the crime-ridden life in the poor quarters, earning a way out with hard work in the end, and adopting the values of the rich. There was always a justification for why they shouldn't be directly helped. They were like animals. If fed, they'd grow dependent on the given food and grow lazy instead of figuring out a way to evolve past their primitive existence.

Preposterous, of course, but so was the fact that the city was divided the way it was, to begin with. There was nothing the sapient soul craved quite as much as absolution, and these theatrical performances offered just that. A typical ending was the protagonist letting go of his charming rage against the machine and understanding that the rich had been right all along as he joined them, only a little rougher around the edges.

The important part, though, was that during these events, the staff were dressed like the poorer denizens of the city. Upon hearing that, the twins had glanced at each other with immediate mutual understanding of the opportunities that that'd just been revealed to them. They'd begun to make a plan, of sneaking into the building dressed as staff for the event, and then, well, things would go naturally from there. They'd rob the eventgoers blind,_whatever it took. Already, there was one obvious avenue for doing so. Pickpocketing everyone in the crowd while the visitors were mingling was a possibility - letting the other sibling distract any given mark - but why stop there? The venue was a five-star hotel. Visitors were arriving even from outside of the city, and they'd be arriving with suitcases full of their belongings. Jewelry more expensive than a _life_in the poorer half. Watches, clothes, dresses, _money. The rooms were secure, but security only went as far as the guest wanted it to go.

On top of that, every visitor almost certainly took a lot of pride in his or her appearance. The ultra-rich were infamous for their hedonistic_appetites,_ and at an event like this, there was no doubt some of them would want to feel that rough street charm intimately. This would be a niche served by the staff, who were all trained to act as if they were mere street trash, even in bed. It provided the rich with a safe outlet for the desires these stories often inspired, without any actual risk. A roleplayed one-night stand that nobody would ever know of, safe.

Unless Sindel and Malak had their way, of course. They had very little in the way of taboos, and both had rather wide sexual preferences. One couldn't _afford_taboos this side of the bridge, and cunning seduction was perhaps the best way to get invited into someone's private quarters. The thought excited them both tremendously, maybe even more than the idea of stealing everything that wasn't nailed down. They'd only have to make their way over the river separating the halves of the city, into the event building, and from there, everything would work out naturally.

Hopefully. That was the plan, at least. Not impossible, with the right contacts in the city's dark underbelly. With a passionate, almost feverish kiss of excitement, the gecko twins had committed to the idea. Tonight, it was time to execute it.

The bridge was no problem. Smugglers brought drugs across the murky river dividing the city frequently. Not only one way, either. The rich side produced medicines, many of which had intoxicating properties, which the poor side needed. And the poor side, of course, produced street drugs that were all the rage among the affluent, especially in times of events such as this one. Making it across was as easy as hiding inside one of their boats, then in a truck, and getting out at the appropriate time. Outside of attacks, it was only the poor side that was guarded, not the rich side. Nobody, after all, wanted to see guards with automatic weapons on their morning walk in the city park.

That left the two lizards to figure out to actually get into the event venue.

"Why didn't they just hold this at the concert hall?" Sindel complained as she balanced on Malak's shoulders, unscrewing a grate in the side of the building. The darkness hid them well, and they'd timed the breach so that the regular patrols wouldn't catch them.

"It's 'cause they want to see our half. From a good, safe distance," Malak grunted. "Besides, all these megabuildings have event venues- nngh! Are you about done up there?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just about," Sindel replied. She finished plucking out the last screw and carefully slid the grate into the opening it had been covering. "Yeah, right. It's pretty dirty in here. Pretty... damn... dirty."

She gazed into a cobweb-laden ventilation duct, the surface of it covered in some indescribable mixture of corrosion and something more organic. Thankfully, they'd expected this, and Malak's bag included a fresh change of clothes for both siblings. That didn't make the prospect of crawling through it any easier.

"We're totally sure it's this one?" Sindel asked.

"Yes! The blueprints were pretty clear. Now get in already before you turn my spine into a damn accordion," Malak grunted impatiently. "Just pretend you're raiding a dungeon or something. Just like when we were kids!"

Sindel took deep breath and crawled into the duct. It was barely wide enough. Certainly, there was no room to move her arms, forcing her instead to scoot forward using her legs and instead of use her fingers to keep herself from sliding back down the slight incline. Thankfully, it wasn't a long crawl, nor were there any security features like laser grids; nobody expected anyone to be flexible, sticky-fingered and crazy enough to attempt entry through it.

Malak followed suit, only his was the more difficult part. He had to enter the duct _backwards_and fasten the grate well enough that a passing patrol wouldn't notice it. With some acrobatics, he climbed up the wall - rather thankful for his naturally sticky gecko toes - and the backed up into the ventilation duct, pushing himself up along the same incline his sister had just crawled with his hands after he pulled the grate on as tightly as it'd go.

From now on until they had fully infiltrated the event - costumes and all - they kept perfectly quiet, crawling through the duct quietly and fighting the inevitable claustrophobia until they finally reached the other end in the building's laundry room. Without a word, they wiped each other clean with fresh linens meant for the upper floors, and then put on their uniforms; a leather vest and tight pants for each. Exactly the kind of attire the ultra-rich thought everyone wore across the bridge. In truth, most on that side couldn't afford leather. Not real leather anyway.

They quietly stashed their dirty clothes in the air duct before finally daring to take almost simultaneous deep breaths.

"Okay. So now we're officially part of the staff. Remember, subservient attitude. Approachable and eager to please and pleasure," Sindel whispered. "Doing exactly_what they ask you to. While also doing _our thing at the same time."

By that, she meant theft. Malak was distracted by just how tight her pants were, though, outlining every inch of her legs, all the way up over her small but shapely rump. The two siblings were no strangers to risky sex with plenty of opportunities to be caught, but this was too much even for them. At any moment, the real staff would walk in, and being caught in the throes of incestuous pleasure wouldn't end well. He forced himself to focus on what his sister was actually saying.

"Yeah, got it. And until we catch someone's eye..." he wiggled his fingers. They'd developed a kind of rudimentary sign language over the years. That one meant there was a good mark nearby to pickpocket.

From here on out, the plan was simple. They'd blend and work the crowd. The opera itself was of precious little interest to the larcenous siblings, but it had several necessary intermissions, during which they'd ply their trade.

With that, they were off. The workers who did the laundry looked at them with some suspicion, but they weren't paid well enough to care. The guards, most of whom were in similar costumes - leather, denim, hoodies, the "street" look only interrupted by the heavy rifles strapped to their backs and the outlines of body armor under the clothes - paid them even less mind.

The opulence of the building was staggering. Crystal chandeliers. Aquariums. Smoked glass. Accents that seemed to be real gold. The main elevators were manned, though the siblings steered clear of them and headed for the significantly less ostentatious service elevator. It was an intimate squeeze for both of them to fit inside, but soon they were headed upwards to the event itself.

"You know, we could just stop the elevator here," Malak grinned. Out of necessity, they were squashed face to face against each other, which meant she felt every subtle curve of his sister's body. He didn't quite thrust, but the swelling hardness between the two spelled out exactly what he was suggesting.

"What are you, a horntoad?" Sindel hissed quietly. Not that his lust wasn't infectious, but she wasn't willing to risk leaving without the loot they came here for. Though the way her twin brother's hardening cock pressed right against her clit made her almost agree with his offer. She bit her lip not to moan.

"Maybe afterwards. Maybe definitely afterwards," she huffed as Malak leaned in the briefly nibble on the side of her neck, which made her tail curl with pleasure. "Just stop. Stop. You can have me later. Gods, you're such a- how high up are we?"

There was no way to tell in the coffin-sized staff elevator, but after a few more moments spent both intentionally and unintentionally teasing each other, it finally slowed down and then stopped. With a ding, the doors slid open, and the sibling lizards squeezed out into the corridor, a little hornier but none worse for wear.

If the entry level had been opulent, this was beyond that. The floor had an almost cathedral-like appearance, with a vaulted ceiling. It appeared to be modelled on Victorian and Gothic architecture, as were, clearly, the costumes of the patrons they could see crowding in the antechamber. How the opera hall itself looked, the lizards might never learn, as their quarry was right here.

"What _are_our jobs?" Malak asked Sindel as they walked, as inconspicuously as possible, towards the crowd. A crucial part of the plan that they'd left unspoken, and there was a brief spike of adrenaline.

Sindel realized that she didn't really know what people this far above her in economic capacity would want workers for. Everything?

"Escorts," she hissed, under her breath, unable to come up with anything better. "Or some kind of drink fetchers, improvise!"

To their advantage was that nobody expected thieves to be bold enough to show up here, and as such, even if they acted a little off, everyone would presume it was part of the act rather than genuine confusion. Nobody could, after all, believe that street rats and the working class had more than a cursory knowledge of the affairs of the civilized part of society, even if it was charming when they tried. As such, Sindel and Malak splitting up - after confirming that they'd meet on the top floor of the building in an unfinished suite their contact had tipped them about - and joining the well-dressed crowd was met with quiet murmurs of amusement rather than suspicion.

They didn't exactly blend in among four-figure suits and dresses so elaborate that they'd have put the actual Victorians to shame, but then, blending in was the opposite of what they wanted to do. Fashion here was more about expressing wealth than any personal style, just as the combination of natural silk and artisan synth-fabrics would suggest, and the two siblings would never fit into that world. They did, however, catch plenty of longing gazes in their skin-tight leather as they moved from patron to patron, asking each if they needed anything while simultaneously checking every pocket they could reach for valuables, like a dance with participants who didn't know they were part of it.

It wasn't long before they had identified some good marks. Malak was first; he had his eyes on a rather large horse, the first person he'd seen who both had the right vibe and looked rich enough to bother with. Though androgynous otherwise, Malak's maleness was plainly visible to the inquisitive and perhaps improper eye; a bulge and a swelling that snaked down the leg of his pants. He made no attempt to hide it, or anything else. Instead, every motion he made was casual yet sensual, the kind of smooth body language that spelled out that he was very much available. And he was. Though the siblings had ulterior, larcenous motives, that didn't mean they couldn't enjoy this part. The key was just making his mark think it was his own idea to use him, so as to not arouse suspicion.

Sure enough, the next time he brushed against the massive equine, he felt his rough fingers squeeze the base of his tail. Score. Immediately Malak stopped, pushing his ass out against the horse's grasp.

"Mm. Come with me, you horny little slut," the equine murmured, mistakenly believing that the initiative was his. "God, you homosexuals are all the same."

Even better. The upper class politely disapproved of homosexual acts. As such, none of them would readily admit to it. It was something that the unwashed masses did; not refined, civilized billionaires. Some, like this horse, tried to justify it as _them_not being gay, since they were on top and having their cocks sucked, but it hardly convinced anyone but themselves. That meant they wouldn't tell anyone that they'd been stolen from while indulging in such forbidden pleasures.

Malak obliged, letting the horse wrap an arm around his waist - winking at Sindel, who seemed to be angling for a regal-looking tigress, with jewellery covering most of her body in gold and glittering diamonds and rubies, to notice her - and lead him away from the crowd. The moment they were inside the elevator, he was pawing at Malak's body, squeezing his ass and even forcing his mouth open as if he was inspecting livestock. He didn't say anything, as he rarely did with others than Sindel, instead choosing to let his body do the talking. He closed his lips around the horse's thick finger and suckled on it gently.

"Aren't you such a hot piece of street trash? I can tell you want my cock," he told Malak. The dirty talk was a little ungainly and unpracticed - the ultra-rich rarely had time to practice it, especially with the same gender - but the desire it revealed was every bit as real as the growing swelling in his pants. "Like you were born to suck cock."

He led the gecko to his room. Immediately, Malak's nose picked up on the floral notes of a feminine perfume, suggesting that the horse was married. He suppressed a smirk, imagining how needy he must be. Was he gay or merely bisexual? Just how badly _did_he need the touch of another male?

Either way, the horse was quick to sit down on a loveseat and drop his pants unceremoniously, revealing a cock almost as thick as Malak's wrist and nearly the length of his forearm. A mouth-watering sight. He continued with taking off his coat, his watch - which Malak noted he'd have to grab, because it looked it cost at least four figures - and his tie.

"Well, on your knees, boy. Down where you belong," he snorted, and Malak obeyed, immediately sneaking his hands into the pockets of the horse's discarded slacks while rubbing his snout against his growing erection. He stuck his tongue out and licked the shaft all the way from base to swelling, flared tip. The stallion was huge, both his body and cock, which made it all the more exciting.

Down where you belong. It was degrading, but the fact that the power difference between the two of them was the opposite of what the horse believed it to be made it all the more delicious. Malak's own shaft was quickly growing hard, feeling the horse's cock against his lips. He felt hot to the touch, rigid with previously suppressed desires, and he smelled just wonderful. Raw, clean, and masculine. But it was the fact that he thought he was in control that really drove Malak wild. Without needing any further goading, he opened his mouth wide and took him into his mouth.

Still at the event floor, Sindel had a little more trouble making her mark notice her. It wasn't good to get too fixated on any single victim, as it blinded even a good thief to other opportunities, but the necklace she was wearing - solid gold, it seemed, inlaid with perfectly cut rubies and diamonds that seemed to glimmer like distant stars - Sindel had to have it. Her fingers itched_to pluck each of them out. The necklace itself was likely bespoke, too unique to hope to sell, but the _gems, not so much.

She was sure that the tigress had noticed her, by now, but she was making no moves. It was possible that she simply preferred something else, like big muscular men, or very curvy women, but usually Sindel had a pretty good feel for these things. It might also be that she was toying with her, as felines often did. Either way, Sindel kept doing what she had been, politely greeting the guests and asking them what they thought of the opera so far, if they'd like any refreshments or company, all the usual distractions while slipping her hands into pockets and purses.

It was only when Sindel lost track of the fanciful tigress that the latter made her move. Suddenly she felt warmth brush against her.

"Follow me, you cute little thing," she whispered in a deep, growling tone, and Sindel followed, with a wide grin on her face the instant the tigress turned her back. As the tigress led Sindel to her den, the gecko could only hope that her brother was having fun with that horse.

"Yeah, suck it. Fuck, you really love cock. Really, nnff, know your place," the stallion snorted, thrusting into Malak's mouth. "Good look for you too. With... with your cheeks bulging like that... sexy as fuck," he continued.

By now, Malak had swallowed several mouthfuls of the horse's precum. His reptilian fingers caressed those heavy, equine balls in a way that made him shiver and throb eagerly. He played it up, too. Oh yes, the gecko certainly did like other males just as much as he liked females, but the horse wanted him to be flamboyant and gay street trash, and so he moaned as if the horse's cock was the best thing he'd ever tasted, bobbing up and down on it and caressing every inch with his long tongue.

"How about you hop up on my lap? Show me just badly you need this inside you," the horse commanded. He looked far too big for the gecko to take, but he'd played with horses before. It'd just be a tight stretch.

Malak made eye contact with him. The two lizards rarely spoke much when they didn't have to. There was something beautifully simple about communicating purely with body language. He stood up, demonstratively trailing his tongue over his bright green lips, and reached to unbutton his pants in a single smooth motion. His flexibility and dexterity combined would've made him a good stripper or courtesan, if he hadn't chosen the life of a thief. But then again, this way, he got to enjoy both.

Life was good. And the sensation of his hardening cock finally escaping those very_tight leather pants was one of immense relief. He couldn't help but groan quietly as he finally swelled to full hardness, rivalling the much larger the horse in size despite his otherwise small and slender stature. Enough so that he noticed his rather homophobic yet clearly bisexual - or perhaps even gay - mark's eyes glance down at him and _linger for a few sensual seconds, fighting the urge to toss aside all that trained denial and follow his urges instead.

He didn't, but he wanted to. He wanted to so badly that Malak could just about taste it, as he climbed into the horse's lap and let his throbbing, hard cock nestle under this tail. Now that Malak was naked and not just sucking his cock, that cocky dominance was gone; the horse swallowed hard, trying to not show what he really wanted. Malak almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

Yet, the gecko had his own needs. At this point, there was really no need to pretend he was only here to pleasure the stallion, because there was no longer a clear line between pleasuring and being pleasured. He pushed downwards firmly, the thick equine shaft pressing against his pucker tightly, lubricating him with copious precum. That rather carnal kiss was enough to snap the horse out of his trance of desire. He grabbed Malak's hips so tightly it hurt and pulled him down. The pressure built, just for a moment, and then Malak's body yielded. The stallion's cock slipped inside the gecko, and they both moaned with arousal. The tightness was immense owing to their difference in size.

Not to be outdone, though, Malak began to ride with rather focused enthusiasm, slamming himself down into the horse's lap and shamelessly moaning with each motion. The slight ache of the equine girth stretching his well-trained ass soon faded away into warm, shuddering lust, and Malak felt himself throb, drooling precum over the horse's toned stomach. As he watched - never slowing down the sensual, needy gyrations of his hips - his stallion lover dipped a finger into that warm mess and closed his eyes, quietly huffing as he brought the digit to his own mouth.

That was about as much as he was willing to indulge the passionately gay, and perhaps even submissive side of himself. At the same, it was also the perfect opportunity. His expensive watch quickly disappeared into the hidden inside pockets of Malak's vest.

"Good... boy," the stallion gasped, nickering and snorting as he began to respond in kind, thrusting up and driving his cock deep into the gecko which each motion. Malak smirked. He could already tell the stallion wasn't going to last long, not after the long session of having his cock worshipped. The horse was swelling up, flaring inside him, and the way that flare dug into his prostate ensured that he wouldn't be far behind.

Elsewhere in the building, the tiger closed the door behind Sindel and herself.

"Well, go on, then. Show me what I'm going to enjoy," she said, with a toothy, predatory expression adorning her perfectly groomed muzzle.

Sindel followed her command. She shrugged off her vest, and then the sports bra she wore underneath to avoid her nipples chafing, carefully watching the tigress' expression as she revealed those slight, yet undeniably feminine mounds.

The pants were next to go. Sindel got the feeling that her mark had been expecting a male, which wasn't ideal, given the look of confusion as rather than a hard cock, she revealed a visibly slick slit between her legs, with her inner thighs rather stained with the same arousal.

"You're... female, are you?" the tigress rumbled. She had a look of surprise in her round eyes, but only briefly, before it was interrupted by a smile. "Always so difficult to tell with you reptiles. Not what I was expecting," she continued. "But not entirely unwelcome, mm. At least not if it's true what they say. That other women are the best at properly worshipping a pussy."

Sindel let out a sigh of relief, if only internally. So, the tigress had indeed assumed she was male - not for the first time - but seemed willing enough to play with another woman, as well. Perhaps it was the taboo thrill of it, but after that initial moment of doubt and hesitation, she almost seemed more excited.

"Well, come over here," the tigress purred, deftly unlatching her elaborate dress and stepping out of it with practiced elegance that made it seem effortless. She was voluptuous even without the adorned silk emphasizing her every curve. Beautiful, even. As close to a goddess physically as Sindel could remember seeing. The ultra-rich had time to take care of their appearances, and it showed.

As Sindel stepped closer to her, the tigress grabbed her by the wrist and promptly guided her hand down to her groin. The fur was silky smooth, clinging to the gecko's fingers, and just beneath that softness was a familiar, feminine heat.

"Of course,you knew I was a woman all along," the tigress rumbled, before grasping Sindel's waist with both hands. "So, show me how well you can pleasure one, you little slut."

She didn't need to be told twice. Her palm pressed firmly into the tiger's mound, and a finger tickled along her bare lips, brushing briefly over her stiffening clit. She responded with a throaty growl, pawing at Sindel's body, and together they stumbled over the luxurious bed before falling over into it.

Sometimes, Sindel mused, she felt a little sad for the ultra-rich and how they had to suppress all their urges and desires in public, so as to keep up appearances. Yet it was a choice they made out of their own free will. Homosexual sex was for the poor and the working class, after all, at least unless they were the ones forcing someone to pleasure them.

Oh, Sindel would pleasure the tigress alright. It'd just come at a much higher price than she was expecting. She took her place between those invitingly spread legs, letting a finger pushing against those yielding folds and then into the damp, steaming heat of her body. She clamped down around her digit. She felt silken and her scent was one of a subtle perfume - rice flower, perhaps - mingling with the even more delicate scent of her growing desire.

Without saying a single word, Sindel pursed her lips and planted a soft kiss on the tiger's clit. She moaned, and the lizard applied the gentlest of suction, wetting that little nub with her saliva while letting her tongue slip down to tease at lips both outer and inner, tasting the first droplet of her lust as her body eagerly responded to Sindel's affections.

She tasted wonderful,_too. The kind of perfect taste that many would pay for. And here Sindel was, effectively getting paid for the luxury of eating the regal tigress out. She couldn't _wait to tell Malak - in as much vivid detail as she could muster - and perhaps to kiss him with her flavor still lingering on her lips. For now, though, she'd enjoy this as much as she could. Once the tigress was wet enough that Sindel could feel her lust dripping off her scale-clad muzzle, she slid a finger into that yearning slit, and then another, curling both upwards in a bid to find that particularly sensitive spot inside her.

The tigress let out a yowl like a cat in heat, and Sindel smiled to herself. For all her haughty elegance, she didn't look any different from an alley cat when sprawled out on a bed, wet and moaning, and reducing her to that state so quickly certainly inspired Sindel to try harder. Soon she was lapping over the tigress' clit eagerly and pumping her fingers into her in a steady rhythm. It almost seemed as if she'd never been properly pleasured by another woman before, the gecko mused, with how enthusiastically she was moaning. Sindel redoubled her efforts, sucking the tiger's clit into her mouth, trying to force her over the edge. She was already clenching wildly around Sindel's fingers, bucking up into her touch, and trembling as the gecko expertly teased her towards new heights of pleasure.

Suddenly the tiger gave a choked half-growl and tensed up, before crying out in what had to be the first lesbian orgasm of her life, with how intense it was. Her warm, orgasmic juices gushed over Sindel's tongue - soaking her tastebuds in that creamy, tangy feminine flavor of pleasure - and all over her face as well as the tigress thrashed and moaned. A few times, she spasmed hard around her fingers, and then, she was out like a light. The tigress slumped down in the bed with her eyes closed and a blissful fading smile on her face. At first, Sindel couldn't quite believe her luck. Not only had she gotten to eat out such a beautiful tigress, but she'd also evidently orgasmed so hard she passed out.

Which meant the gecko had free reign over her belongings. Sindel forced herself to ignore just how wet she herself was getting - she had left a big wet patch in the silken bedsheets - and quickly and quietly got dressed. Her brother could take care of her arousal later. Right now, she had to focus, no matter how deliciously erotic the lingering taste of the tiger's juices was.

Elsewhere, the stallion that was fucking Malak reached the point of no return.

"Fucking... take it, you- dirty- gay- street- trash," he snorted, forcing out a word with each shallow, ragged breath. He hilted that massive cock inside the small gecko. For a moment, Malak felt wonderfully fully, gasping at the feeling of the entire flaring shaft forced into him.

Then, the stallion throbbed heavily, several times in rapid succession, and he let out an orgasmic neigh. A familiar warmth rushed into Malak's receptive body, and he couldn't help but give a hissing moan in response. He'd felt full. Now, he felt_stuffed,_ filled the brim with warm, sexy cum. So much of it that the excess leaked out of him despite being stretched taut around the massive horsecock. He could do nothing but shiver in turn, impaled fully on the massive horse, receiving every last drop of seed the stallion felt like pumping into him, while completely ignoring his own cock.

That was fine. He could take care of it later. He could still feel the horse's shaft buck and twitch inside him, but slowly, even that massive orgasm ebbed.

His phone dinged.

"You know, you should give me your number, I could use a personal servant like-" the stallion suggested dazedly. And then, he checked his phone, and a pale look of sudden panic twisted his relaxed features into a grimace. He threw Malak off - the sudden emptiness inside him almost painful for how hollow he felt, for a few minutes - and rushed into action.

Going by just how quickly he reacted, Malak guessed it was from his wife wondering where he was. Maybe the opera was finally starting. Either way, the horse practically flew out the door, barely having time to button his slacks or shirt after throwing them on, cursing under his breath, and evidently having completely forgotten about Malak. Despite their passionate sex, he was, after all, a mere servant,_to be discarded after being enjoyed. He probably expected Malak to clean up the mess, too. That suited the gecko just fine, as it left him all alone with the horse's possessions. There wasn't much in the way of loose cash, but he _had brought three expensive-looking watches, a few bejewelled tiepins, as well as an assortment of rings, every single one of which looked more expensive than anything Malak had ever owned. He was practically drooling as he stuffed his pockets with the loot. Perhaps aided by having been left unsatisfied earlier, the act of theft was exciting enough for him to get hard all over again.

But he didn't have much time. As much as he would've preferred staying and taking everything_valuable, what he had so far - between the horse's jewellery and what he'd picked up in the event area - was already enough to last him _years. He quietly closed the room door behind him and made a stealthy escape, careful not to leave a trail of the cum still oozing from his ass, to the elevator to the topmost floor where they'd regroup and figure out a safe way back down.

Sindel was only a little behind him, having finished cleaning out everything she could find from the tigress. That necklace of hers was far too unique, but the gems on it she could always fence, and she had effortlessly plucked them out as the tigress snored underneath her. Off came her rings, and bracelets as well. Even the diamond earrings, though that was cutting it a little too close; the tigress stirred as Sindel slipped the rings out of her sensitive ears. Moreso than Malak, she had to hurry; the tigress would wake up any second, and she would assuredly raise hell when she found out that she'd been robbed.

Quietly, she too tiptoed out and made her way to the elevator and up. There were no guards on these residential floors, not with everyone focused on the opera that'd finally started. The topmost floor was home only to an unfinished mega-suite that hadn't been quite ready to rent out for the opera, and being unfinished, the door didn't yet have a lock. They'd only recently began to furnish it.

It was there, in that dark, barren suite with a stunning view of the city, that the twins finally met up again. Down below them, the neon glow of their home and the clear lighting of the richer half soaked into the darkness beyond the city limits, illuminated only by highways.

"So, what'd you find?" they asked each other excitedly, and nearly in unison.

"You saw that stallion. He was huge. And just as well hung, too," Malak began. "And he told me pretty much exactly what he thought of gay people."

"Let me guess, while you were blowing him?" Sindel interjected.

"Oh yeah. Totally worth it, though. Mm, he was like the size of my forearm," Malak huffed, feeling himself start to grow hard again. "And he took off his watch for the sex," he added, patting his vest.

"Mm. You dirty slut," Sindel murmured. She took a step closer, pressing her body against that of her brother. She felt far warmer to the touch than a gecko had any right to. Imagining Malak doing what he described - both how he sucked the horse's cock and stole his belongings - clearly was getting her going. Soon their hands were all over each other, once against stripping naked. Lips met heated lips.

"Tastes like you've been having some fun too," Malak grinned. His sticky hands squeezed his twin sister's rump as he lapped up the tigress' flavor from her lips.

"Yeah," she replied with breathy whisper, squeezing him in turn. "She thought I was a man, first..."

Malak sat down on one of the sofas. It was still uncovered, but that didn't matter for the geckos. It'd do just fine for their purpose, and cleaning it was a job for someone else. Immediately, Sindel straddled his lap, and his muzzle in turn brushed over the slight curve of her breasts.

"Mhm. I couldn't imagine why," Malak teased, though at the same time, his tongue slipped out to drag slowly over her chest, lingering briefly to swirl over a stiffening nipple. "But she got into it, didn't she?"

Sindel could feel her brother growing hard. His pleasantly girthy cock was prodding insistently under her tail now, and lust-stricken as she was, she pushed back, grinding against his desire for her. "She did. And then I, nff, snatched every gem from that stupid necklace she had. Diamonds the size of thumbnails," she moaned, and grew even hotter to the touch. Malak felt her own familiar wetness slowly drip over his groin.

"I guess she didn't return the favor with how wet you are," he whispered in response.

"She passed out when she came," Sindel huffed. She was already reaching down, wrapping her fingers around her brother's shaft and rubbing his swollen tip against her entrance, coating it with her juices. "Probably the first time she had any lesbian fun."

Malak groaned at the sensation, letting his hips rock upwards to feel more of her slick heat against him. "Not the first time for my stallion... though for how homophobic he was, he sure was eager to fuck me."

Sindel sank down onto him. The two groaned out in mutual bliss, driven fully by the need that blossomed somewhere between their thievery and the seduction of their marks. Malak began to thrust into her immediately, bouncing his more feminine twin on his lap.

"A-and he came a lot, I'm still leaking," he added, his voice punctuated with focused exertion as he rutted into her. "Like a damn firehose. You should really try a stallion, sis."

The penetration was almost frictionless with how aroused she was, her body practically bathing him in her wetness. Sindel shuddered, clenching around her brother as she tried but failed to reach under his tail to feel just how messy he was. Not like she was much better.

"Maybe I will. Too bad I t-think yours won't want seconds," Sindel panted.

Malak smiled. "No, but he thought he did... wanted me as a personal servant."

"O-oh, fuck, you should've accepted," Sindel hissed. Her inner muscles clamped down around his cock again, passionately. "Not only getting mounted by a big horse several times a d-day but, mmh, imagine how expensive his home would be."

"Gods, yes," Malak grunted. "Probably full of jewellery and exotic watches, electronics we could jailbreak, maybe his, nnf, bank account details!"

He twitched heavily inside Sindel. "-and none of it would still feel even half as good as you," he added, in hurried, half-formed words slurred by the urgency of their union.

"Y-yeah, you're the size of a s-stallion already," Sindel replied. And that was almost_the truth. He certainly filled her out, as if his cock was _made for her and their twice-taboo relationship based on passionate incest and larceny.

At some point, words were no longer enough. The twins were reduced to guttural, instinctive moans, grunts, groans, and squeals. Malak pushed Sindel down against the non-upholstered sofa, pulling her legs up and all but folding her over as she moaned with ecstatic encouragement. As if her wetness wasn't all the demonstration any male would need for how much she was enjoying it. He thrust even deeper into her, both siblings rapidly racing towards the orgasms they'd been denied with their marks.

He reached his peak first. The gold and silver he'd stolen from the horse jangled in the pockets of his vest with those final quake-like thrusts that threatened to splinter the sofa beneath them. Then, with a stifled but passionate groan, he came. And came he did, like a stallion, with how pent up he was. Sindel felt every throb, every jet of heat that met her cervix as her brother's cock, buried to the hilt, pulsed deep inside her, filling her with every drop of cum he had to give. It was a lot. The backwash soaked the couch and stained their brilliant green and yellow scales with white. The feeling of it all was so deliciously dirty, so hedonistic and raw that it pushed Sindel over the edge as well.

Her fingers dug into Malak's scale-covered back, and with a loud moan of pleasure, she was cumming too, clenching and squeezing around Malak's pulsating cock, milking him for every last drop of his seed, for what felt like forever in the heat of the moment. Her body responded to every twitch, every throb with another encouraging squeeze, their bodies working together in perfect reciprocal ecstasy, goading each other to keep cumming until they simply couldn't.

Eventually, they reached that point. Malak's grip on Sindel's legs loosened and slipped, and he barely managed to brace himself so as to not fall onto her. He propped himself up on his elbow and for a moment simply gazed into Sindel's mismatched eyes. They'd both inherited the same beautiful defect - one blue eye, and one red, but on different sides - and this little moment reminded them both of how they looked like sapphires and rubies set in lustrous emerald, more beautiful in a way than all the jewellery they'd stolen.

They enjoyed that moment of relaxation, together, savoring the fading tingles of sexual delight. And then, someone kicked the door open with a slam so loud it seemed to shake the entire room. A group of armed guards advanced into the suite.

"They're here somewhere. Check every corner!" one voice, muffled by protective gear, called out. "The mayor's going to have our heads if we don't get them."

The mayor._Just who _had the geckos robbed?

Well, it wasn't exactly the time to think about it. The guards advanced slowly, checking every corner, presuming that whoever was bold enough steal from _this_event had to also be heavily armed. That gave the twins just enough time to hastily pull on their clothes again in a flurry of frenzied action. With no opportunity to clean anything up, the sofa would probably be ruined by the splatters of cum, as would their clothes. Both kicked off their shoes. While it was frustrating to have to leave them behind, it didn't matter; they could afford new and better ones, now. If they managed to escape. Otherwise, they'd get free clothes in prison.

Sindel wrenched open one of the windows, gestured for her brother to follow, and disappeared out through it, so quickly that Malak's heart nearly froze as he almost thought she fell - but only for a second. He followed suit as fast as he could muster, tugging the window half-closed behind him and fighting back the sudden vertigo at seeing the streetlights some hundred floors below. It was a little much even for a gecko used to climbing high places, especially as he had to climb the distance face-down, and the freezing wind felt as if it could rip them both from the tower of glass and steel, which would inevitably be their end.

Thankfully, barring a sudden gale, he wasn't going to slip, even with extra weight of his ill-gotten gains, and neither was Sindel, but they still had to race down the glass exterior as fast as they could, which was dangerous beyond belief even for them. It was only a matter of time before the guards noticed the window having been left ajar, and moments after that they'd look down. Somewhere behind them, they heard quiet shouting, the exact words drowned out of by the wind above and the traffic below, but at this point it changed nothing. The twins sped down the side of the building as fast as the setae on their toes would allow, praying that nobody happened to open a window.

Quickly, the street below came closer and closer into view, the cars turning from small dots of light that looked like miniatures to full-sized cars, and the people - not that many were out this late at night - from ants to rich people walking their dogs or stumbling home in a drunken haze.

With their hearts beating so fast that they might explode at any moment, pulses quickened and senses sharpened by adrenaline, they made it down to the street just as the guards realized which way they'd escaped and took the elevator down. From there, the siblings transitioned seamlessly to running away in a more _traditional_manner - horizontally, while dodging traffic - as fast as their trembling legs would carry them. It was another sprint to the river through clean and lamentably well-lit alleyways. In the moment, it was nothing but pure adrenaline and even barely restrained panic, but the twins would no doubt be reminiscing of that breakneck escape the next they mated. On one hand, their escape could've been clean if it hadn't been for their tryst in the unfinished suite. On the other, it'd have been a far less climactic end to their greatest heist so far.

Despite being chased by what seemed like the city's entire police force, sirens howling and even the sound of helicopters echoing off buildings a little further away, the twins managed to duck and weave their way to the bridge and quickly disappeared under the surface of the dividing river. Even though patrol boats were only minutes behind, the two - and the valuables they'd pilfered - were never found. Not in that city, anyway. Their exploits, though, would be remembered for a while. Perhaps in another romanticized opera or play about the poor.