> Staying for Breakfast > by SpaceShitNomad > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Hung Over > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Your headache slowly wakes you, body tense and sore from a long night out.  With a dull grumble, you blink a few times as you let your vision adjust, but the starlit room is far too dark to really pick out details.  The only thing you're sure of is that you've managed to fall asleep on your side in an uncomfortable position, your chest on top of something hard. Blindly groping about in the darkness, your hoof finds something unexpected, another hoof.  As you touch it, you start to slowly piece things together. It just takes a moment to realize what you're laying on: somepony else's leg, hugging gently around your middle from behind. As your mind races to process this, bits of the night before come back to you.  You recall a mare, a beauty like you'd never expected to see in person.  You'd flirted, laughed, and talked for hours, drinking your way into the night, before she finally invited herself home with you. It only takes a moment of drunken flashbacks before your freshly awoken body decides to make ready for another go with her.  Chuckling silently and cursing male biology, you lift yourself up off the foreleg and shuffle a bit away, rolling over to look back at the figure that had been spooning you. Even in the pale light of the stars, your instincts know.  Her body is too… glossy.  There's no way it's fur.  Slowly, nervously, you reach over to flick on the nightstand light. Before you, the unmistakable black sheen of chitin gleams in the lamplight, long fangs and a tattered frill standing out among the features not hidden by your sheets.  As you stare in shock, the light disturbs her, and she stirs awake, flat green eyes slowly opening to look back at you with a happy brightness. “Morning, handsom-” she starts, but as she notices her voice coming out in its natural bi-tone, she covers her mouth with a light gasp. Before you have time to scramble out of bed in a panic, she beats you to the punch, flailing a bit before tumbling loudly onto the floor.  As she slams to the ground with a wet crunch, she lets out a high yelp like an injured animal.  Despite fear and confusion, you know full well what the sound was and dart to the edge of the bed to check on her. First and foremost, one thing stands out; it seems you're not the only one who woke up at full mast.  He is startlingly endowed, to the degree you were confused at his leg count, but generally packing something equine in shape.  The more you look, the more you're certain a staff like that is not designed for a normal mare.  Despite curiosity, you don't really have the time to process it, as you notice he's clutching his chest and groaning in pain, the chitinous plate of his chest crumpled inward sickeningly like a dented plastic bottle. Just as you begin to ask what you need to do to help, he lights his horn and splits the room with an even more disgusting pop than before.  As he forces the plate back to its original shape, he collapses with a groan, panting as he struggles to recover.  Still, the damage is obvious, a gray seam in otherwise smooth blackness. As you slowly look him over for further wounds, you start to notice more and more injuries and scars, all in various states of healing.  Something tells you that at one point, they were all broken at once.  As you stare in curiously, he comes back to his senses and remembers the situation he's in, his eyes snapping open in fear. “W-wait,” he stammers out, musical voice shaky, “H-hold on.” You look up and down his form suspiciously before telling him to go on. He takes a shaky, pained breath before whimpering out, “I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean- I wasn't trying to trick you, I- I was just… so hungry…” Sitting back, you eye him judgingly.  He'd lied to you and taken advantage, tricked you into bed, and stolen what he'd pleased. He shrinks at your words, lowering his head in shame, “I di- I didn't… mean to go any farther than flirting.  You just… you're a really nice stallion and… it had been a long time since I met a guy who looked at me while I was a mare and saw more than meat…” You tilt your head suspiciously, having no reason to trust him, yet somehow finding yourself feeling his words are genuine. He smiles weakly, feeling the emotions shifting inside of you, “You're a great stallion, and…” He sighs and lowers his head again, “I didn't mean to- to hurt you.  I just… felt something toward you last night, is all.” You blink at him, noticing he said ‘toward’ not ‘from.’ He is confused for just a moment at your stare, retracing his words before blushing a vibrant shade of green, “I! I me- I mean, uh…” His head droops again, “Look, if you're… mad at me… I understand.  I get it.  I can leave.  Just don't… tell anyone? I don't want to get in trouble…” You sit back, looking him over, and sigh.  You're still feeling deceived, but for a reason you don't fully understand, you're starting to believe it wasn't a malicious act.  Sitting here meekly before you now, he seems to regret the lies.  Your mind glides back to memories of last night, the heat, the closeness, the way sh- he whimpered your name… Both of you look down slowly, a fat mass of stallionhood now tenting up the sheets that cover your lap.  As you start to flush in embarrassment, you notice his eyes have stayed firmly locked on your swelling masculinity, licking his lips unconsciously with a slender, dexterous tongue. Despite yourself, you remove the sheet, letting your length free to flop down across your inner thigh.  He stares at it greedily for a long while before slowly turning to meet your gaze, his eyes nervously begging both forgiveness and permission.  Remembering just how it had felt the night before, you can't help but quietly offer both. A moan forces it's way free of your throat as his tongue flickers out, narrow tip dancing across your flare.  Your shaft is already throbbing with your heavy heartbeats as he lights his horn, raising your head to meet his lips, giving your tip a soft little kiss.  Gently, you reach forward, stroking his cheek softly and tracing along one of his scars. He inhales sharply, pulling back so quickly that you worry you hurt him, but instead he blurts out, “I- I'm- Do you want me to look like her again? I- I'm sorry, I know how horrible I loo-” You press a hoof to his lips and shake your head, no more lies.  If he really means it, really wants this, then he should do it right. He gulps nervously before giving a shy chuckle and reaching down to cover up the oversized package quickly swelling to length between his haunches, “But I uh… don't have a…” Riiiight, that's a thing.  It wouldn't exactly be the same as last night.  Still, after consideration, you just shrug.  You're fine with whatever, so you leave it up to him.  With a smirk, you slide your hoof along his smooth chitinous belly, drawing an excited little buzz from his wings. Blushing intensely, he thinks it over, a playful smirk lighting across his face as he makes a decision.  The dark room is temporarily lit with a flash of green, but when your eyes adjust there's still just that same, broken-plated changeling sitting there covering his lap.  You tilt your head curiously. He withdraws his hooves from his groin, revealing glossy black lips parted ever so slightly by a mound of green, each slow wink of it pressing a little more dampness out across his new sex, “I… really liked how you… felt in me… so…” A hearty throb of your shaft draws a bead of clear liquid out to rest on your tip.  You hesitate for but a second before you decide.  Who cares if he's using you right now, you need this as much as he does. He shivers all over at the flavor of your lust, lowering his head slowly to your belly.  Tracing tongue up from sheath to flare, he grinds along your puffy tube, milking out your precum to eagerly lap it from your tip.  Your whole body quakes, sack tucking up tight against your body as you unabashedly moan. He chuckles embarrassedly, rubbing the back of his head for a moment, “Yeah, I… have more experience doing this than I care to admit… but you do what you have to for food, right?” You look down at him with a flash of sad concern before he cuts you off by going down again.  You throw your head back in shocked pleasure as he takes your flare into his lips, letting out a confused groan as you feel the smooth sides of his sabre fangs holding your shaft snugly.  His smooth, hard lips close down and wrap around your girth, tongue still slowly and eagerly lapping at your cumslit, refusing to waste a drop. First bobbing his head gently to read just how you're reacting to all this, he starts to slowly descend your stallionhood, very quickly pressing your flare to the back of his throat.  As you moan, he chuckles, his buzzing voice vibrating your whole shaft as he does.  Cradling your sack with a hoof, he starts to rock his head some, repeatedly bumping your tip against his tight throat before finally slipping you in.  He takes it all, lips sliding past your medial ring and taking you full to hilt.  With a contented groan that quakes his body around you, he presses his lips to your sheath in an exaggeratedly slow kiss. Aaaand you're already at the edge.  You mumble out an apology, swearing you have better stamina than this, but his smirk just gets wider.  He keeps suckling your length, slow, warm, and wet, drawing things out as he keeps up his attention on your pent orbs.  Your body is roiling, every instinct screaming that you're about to unload, yet… it's like he knows your body better than it knows itself.  Slower and slower, he keeps edging you along to the point you feel like you're doing to die from the tension, at which point he slides off of you softly and leaves your shaft throbbing in your lap again, hopelessly blueballed. You melt into the sheets, whole body tense and aflame, every inch of you so sensitive that you feel even a gentle kiss might set you off.  You look down at your bedmate, smiling victoriously while he chews his lip and slowly grinds against his own hoof. You can't help but stare, watching his black hoof rubbing slow circles around his dark lips, teasing them open to reveal soaked green flesh.  The sloppy wet sounds pair perfectly with his heated panting, and he starts to blush more and rub harder the longer you watch him.  Unable to control yourself, you reach down between your own legs to join in, wanting to feel just how sensitive he's left you. His free hoof slides forward, stopping your own shy of its destination, “Wait… save that for me, okay? I’m not gonna let all that work get wasted.” With a little wink, he lights his horn again, a soft tingle embracing your distractingly sensitive nethers, drawing you instantly back to that ledge he's been holding you over.  This time, you're getting more used to the feeling, just returning the smile and sprawling back to the sheets.  You crack a little joke about being pampered in order to distract yourself, saying you've been enjoying a good servicing. He blushes green yet again, but keeps going, instinctively aware that the chance of accidental misfire has already passed and drawing his warm, tingling grasp along you in tight strokes, “Like I said… I think you're a nice guy, and I like how I seem to make you feel.” It takes a moment, distracted as you are by rocking your hips in time with the expert magical fondling, but you finally manage to ask what he means. Distractedly, clearly focusing more on both his magic on your shaft and his hoof me daily going to town between his legs, he half whispers, “Affectionate lust tastes so much better than lecherous lust…” You let out an understanding hum, but are too preoccupied to think about it too hard.  You slowly sit more upright to look at him, the act leading to him stopping suddenly as if he's worried about what you're about to say. You look his body over, eyes lingering on the damp puddle he's making in your sheets.  You're rather curious about… this particular form. Relaxing again as you speak, he grins widely, spreading his hindlegs wide to offer a full view.  You'd caught more than a few glimpses so far, but it's really quite something to get a proper look at.  Very similar to a mare's, just as plump, puffy, and delicious looking as you'd enjoyed last night, but with a chitinous gloss.  He draws a lip aside with the tip of his hoof, both to show just how pliable the entrance is and to reveal the blushing green flesh within, channel clamped down and leaking across his rump while his clit eagerly winks hello. Slowly, you lean forward, taking a curious little sniff.  The area between his legs is full of a sweet, musky scent, tinged with a sharp hit of ozone.  You huff out a hot breath across his sex, drawing out a cute little squeak and leading him to reach down and ruffle your mane.  As you inhale deeply, taking his musk into your lungs, you can feel the excited horniness of your body wash into desirous need.  As he tastes your feelings shifting, his eyes go wide, staring down at you with a look of sudden, intense, steamy want.  You meet his gaze and just offer a single, quick smirk before deciding to repay his gifts in kind. A tiny little peck directly to his nub is enough to make him nearly jump from the bed, netherlips tensing as his wings flitter excitedly behind him.  You chuckle at him, giving his slit a little nosing, teasing the tiniest bit  about being so sensitive. “Sh- Shut up…” he replies just as playfully, his cheeks turning that same forest tinge as before, “I'm not… used to these parts yet.” You nose your way gently into his folds, just burying your face in his scent.  He squeaks in shock at first, but it settles into a deep groan, rubbing his hooves through your mane. “F- fuck this feels good…” he stammers out, panting for breath, “I can't believe how different it is from Starshine's…” You look up at him, about to ask who that is, but then remember it was the name he'd given for himself the night before.  Instead, you just smile and grab his little love button in your lips, giving a quick suckle.  He squeals in delight, clamping his thighs around your head and eagerly grinding his sex against your muzzle. There's no need to explain to you any more than that.  You drag your tongue up along his lips, lapping up the sweet nectar of his feminine juices, ending with a quick nip at the hood.  The act is rewarded with writhing and moaning, hips bucking at your attentions like a mare who's never been touched. As you exhale heavily over his puffy marehood, he looks down at you desperately, muttering, “M- more… it's… it's too good…” You give another grin and wiggle your face in again, tongue and lips quickly going to work.  His nethers open easily, lips smooth and pliable, yet hard and quite strong, clamping down greedily on your muzzle as you nibble and lick your way along his inner labia.  Gentle nips make him squirm and giggle, licks bring lusty moans, suckling draws out squealing and writhing. He tastes just as sweet as he smelled, ever so slightly bitter and delightfully salty, and just the tiniest bit gooey, strands of it trailing from his folds to your face each time you pull back to breathe.  The air between his legs is heavy with musk, a deep and lusty humidity that just keeps driving you further.  It's hard to inhale while held so close, but each breath is a treat in its own, just letting your lungs fill with more of his amazing pheromones. Rock hard, throbbing, drooling on the sheets, your member hangs parallel to your belly without effort or attention.  The way he moans, the feeling of his hooves being dragged through your mane and over your neck and shoulders, you can feel his enjoyment just as surely as he can taste yours.  As you pull back and grin at him, your whole muzzle glazed with his juices, he meets you with needy eyes. Yup.  That stare is just too much to handle.  You look down at his adopted marehood once more, taking in that sweet scent and perfect glossy smoothness, and you can feel that you’re already half flared.  In an instant, you lunge forward and topple him back to the sheets, slowly making your way to prop yourself above him on the bed. The act earns you a shocked squeak and expectant stare, his eyes flitting from staring into yours and looking downwards at the rod hovering above his belly and dripping on his chitin. “T- take me…” he whimpers, averting his eyes a little in embarrassment at how bad he needs it, “I want to… to feel your love again…” You freeze up, filled with sudden realization and discomfort.  Sure… you’d dismissed the thought at first, but… He’s feeding on you.  What does… that even mean?  What might it do? Sensing your hesitation and concern, his smile goes from needy to gentle, reaching up to stroke along your chest, “I… I haven’t been.” You blink at him, worried for just a moment that he might be reading your thoughts. “You’re… confused about how we work, right?  I… can see it in your eyes.”  He slides that hoof along your chest before reaching down to gently cradle your flare as it dribbles pre, “But… I haven’t been feeding.  It… really kind of hurts to let all of this love go to waste… but I’m not gonna feed until you say I can.  I… need to earn that from you.” The sentiment catches you off guard, your face drawing into a goofy little grin.  You let him know how charming you find that all before pausing; what was that about waste? “Well,” he blushes and averts his eyes some more, “You’ve just been… pouring your excitement all over me.  It’s… it’s actually really hard to not sneak a taste here and there with how hungry I am…” Hungry?  You look down at the battered and broken body before you.  Admittedly, you’re no expert on changeling anatomy, but… he does seem lean. He sighs as he catches your curiosity again, giving your shaft a few little tugs to distract himself from how nervous he is, “I… had a disagreement with the Queen and... “  He winces at the memory, shivering, before letting go of your flare and unconsciously tracing at one of his worst scars, “...luckily I survived, but… now I don’t have a hive, so I’ve just been struggling to find meals on my own without having to resort to being the monster you all expect m- mm!!” You cut him off with a firm kiss, right between his cute little exposed fangs.  Despite it all, you just… can’t sit here and watch him when he acts so vulnerable without being overtaken by the desire to help him.  You might have some reservations still, but you grin at him and joke about not usually asking mares to leave without breakfast after this sort of thing. A moment of awkward silence lingers before a sparkle of understanding fills his eyes and he practically begins to glow with joy.  Before you can react, his hooves fly around your middle, clamping down on you in a vicelike embrace.  Despite mild concern he might crack one of your ribs, you return the firm hug, very softly stroking your hoof along his frill and nuzzling near his horn. The longer he holds you, the more you start to feel a little dizzy.  It’s like you’ve been caught off guard by a heavy wave of exhaustion.  Your partner looks you over with a little worry before squeaking, apologizing profusely as the feeling passes suddenly. “S- sorry!  I… I got excited there, I went too fast…” he lowers his head in shame and hides his face to your chest. You catch your breath quickly and give him a little peck on the horn, playing the tough guy for a moment and assuring him you’re fine, takes more than that to bother you.  You accent the idea with a second little peck to his forehead. “Is… is this much okay?  I mean… just tell me if you still get exhausted when I’m taking this much, I can go even slower if you want,” he mumbles into your sternum. You pull back in a little surprise, having thought that he’d stopped entirely.  You smile softly and let him know that you’re just fine before leaning in and whispering soft and hot in his ear.  Satisfied exhaustion is half the fun of what you two are about to do together, after all. He blushes, cheeks turning a pale green, and lets out a little giggle.  Slowly, his gaze lowers toward the hot mass currently pinned between your bellies.  You teasingly buck your hips, grinding soft shaft over smooth chitin, and his wings buzz helplessly as they’re pinned within your firm hug. “Are you…” he looks up into your eyes, concerned yet excited, “sure?” You slowly lick your lips.  You’d  hardly be a gentlecolt if you let your date go home hungry.  You stare him square in the eyes and ask if he’s sure he wants to feel full right now, winking. With a blush, he slides his forehooves onto your flanks, positioning you atop him properly, your sack resting heavy against hot damp lips, “Give me all you got, big guy…” You lean in and nip at his shoulder, chuckling at his word choice, but more than happy to oblige.  His chitin is oddly smooth against your lips, almost like ceramic or glass against your teeth, your attempts at nibbling all just glancing off and denying your grasp.  He nuzzles back into your neck and shoulder, smooth sides of his fangs tracing along your coat and making you shiver, whether it’s from instinctive fear or just tense arousal you can’t be sure. The feeling of moist heat against your shaft slowly overtakes your senses, your flare beginning to throb in anticipation.  It’s time.  Holding him to the bed by his shoulders, you slowly draw back your hips before grinding your shaft forward smoothly.  Your length is cradled the whole way by his heated lips, his swollen nub pressing firmly to your cumtube, holding in your sticky arousal.  As you ‘hilt,’ you let go of the pressure and just let all of the clear pre gush out, glazing his chest. He squirms and chitters at it all, wrapping his hindlegs around your rump, breath already ragged, “Q- quit teasing…” You chuckle, leaning in to taunt him.  After all, he sure seems to be halfway to finishing from the teasing alone. He blushes bright green again and looks away, “I- I said I- wasn’t used to this anatomy.  It’s just so…”  With no words, he just shivers from all the overstimulation and flops his head back to the sheets, eyes closed. Your eyes go wide with a sudden greedy need.  His first time like this.  You quickly reposition yourself, fattened flare kissing his entrance, and mumble the usual reassurances you’d think to offer.  Be sure to say if it hurts, I’ll stop whenever you want, we can take this slow… He blushes yet further, half hiding his face behind his hooves and peeking through one of the holes, “I- I’m not- I’m not a virg- Oh come on!  I’ve already been with you as a mare, so… I know what to expect and stuff, but workers are super different on the inside…” You part his hooves with yours and lean in to kiss his nose reassuringly, slowly easing your hips forward, his hard lips parting to admit your head.  It feels odd, lips hugging you tight from the sides as the flesh squeezes softly to the top and bottom, the unique feeling catching you a little off guard.  Both of your breathing quickly grows shaky, each taking deep, hot, slow breaths that progressively fall into time with each other's.  He smiles warmly and strokes his hoof slowly along your chest, eyes and smile assuring you he’s ready. You start to rock your body softly, letting the gentle motions set you slowly deeper, savoring his peculiar entrance's embrace of your sensitive tip.  He starts to pant under you, inhaling with each thrusting prod in and exhaling as you withdraw, betraying his unfamiliarity with his current form as each minor motion you take makes him shudder and squirm.  You grin devilishly and decide to give him a proper treat, driving in smoothly until you feel your already engorged flare swell back to its full size and spread his channel wide.  He groans raspily from being stretched as you sigh contentedly from no longer having your head squeezed down by his tight entrance, his voice abuzz with distinct arousal just as yours is tinged with amusement at his cute little actions.  This is going to be fun. His walls are on fire around you, his inner flesh conforming and squeezing around your maleness.  His hot, sticky fluids are already seeping down along your shaft with a very noticeable and welcome tingling.  Each of his shaky, needy breaths sends his whole passage quivering, straining your ability to hold back that tightness that had been building in your balls all morning.  You draw your length back slowly until you feel the hard, tight lips starting to squeeze your head again, then drive back in gently, feeling his juices squeezed out by your mass to dribble down your length. Oddly enough, your thrust is interrupted, the slit of your tip bumping into something.  He rewards the impact with a slutty moan, his hindlegs clamping around your middle again.  Still, you’re curious.  You sit a little more upright and confirm, yes, you’re still only barely inside. “Cervix,” he mumbles out just as you’re about to ask.  As he watches you get even more confused at the explanation, he smirks, “Just how our anatomy is.  Cervix stays flush to your tip and everything stretches to fit you.  Don’t worry.  Don’t think.  Just fuck me.” You were always good with simple instructions. Pressing in slowly to test, you can feel his fleshy walls tightening as your member fills and lengthens his passage.  He lets out a cute little chitter, squirming under you with his eyes clenched shut and a stupid grin on his lips.  You can’t help but nearly mirror the expression as you let out a satisfied sigh, enjoying the feeling of hot wet closeness for now. His hooves slide along your sides slowly before settling on either side of your taildock, rubbing gentle circles into the muscle before giving you a playful little tug, like he’s trying to pull more of your length inside.  You grin and kiss his nose, starting to do just the opposite.  His walls slacken around you as you draw your length back, again pulling out your mingling dampness to join the puddle on the sheets. It seems he’s just about to turn to begging, so you interrupt his desperate stare with a heavy thrust, his cute little pout instantly replaced with a wide open moan as you finally start to take him.  Pushing in yet further, his walls squeeze you even more firmly.  His chittering moans echo from from deep within his body, vibrating his whole passage around you, in particular his womb’s entrance quivering against the flat of your flare. You struggle to keep your breathing steady as you slowly draw your length back out again, shaft glistening with your mixed lust.  All of this, the tightness, the buzzing, the tingling, is making it hard to hold back.  Not to say you feel like you’re going to go off without warning, you’re pretty sure you can keep this up, just that your body is screaming to rush things. He locks eyes with you again and only has one word to say.  “More…” You jam it in, feeling those firm lips hug your shaft as you part them with your meat, hot walls sending a shiver through your body as you stretch and claim them.  You shudder as your thrust is stopped by the bump of your medial ring to his lips, that eager little nub of his winking in and out against your flesh.  Looking up into his eyes, you can see the desperate need within him.  With a wide smile, you oblige. Two bodies rocking as one, pulse raising and air growing thick with the combined scent of two lovers losing themselves to instinct.  The heavy pistoning pressure, so natural and fulfilling, just letting his body part and open to admit you, cradle you, stimulate you.  He squirms and writhes, his movements out of his control now, lost to the feeling of your body inside his.  He grabs the sheets, moaning each time your balls slap into his rump, his whole body tense and shivering around your length and in your embrace. Everything about his body under yours is driving you wild, the animalistic gasps and chitters of one lost to heat, the shivering, lusty gaze, barely able to keep his eyes open from the desire to throw his head back and howl in pleasure.  His wings flutter, throat chittering wildly, hooves groping at the bed.  His passage, though only a temporary addition, couldn’t feel more like it was the only natural home for your throbbing length.  His tingly juices couldn’t be more perfect to glaze your stallionhood.  His body under yours… its the only thing you need right now. You reach up to hold him down, hoof on his shoulder to pin him as you rut him into the bed.  He squeaks again, reaching up to wrap his fetlock around your leg, eyes locked with yours.  A pleading stare, a desperate whimper.  You grin and slam to hilt, ring forcing its way through his netherlips, stretching his whole passage to its limits as your sheath comes crashing against his sex. He cries out once more in pleasure, wings buzzing like he’s trying to take off, eyes rolling back in his head as his whole passage clamps down on your length.  He heaves, his body rocking upward, belly pressing to yours, just shivering under you as waves of pleasure roll through him.  You smirk satisfiedly, happy to have manage to last long enough to see him like this.  Still, you’re not quite done yourself.  As he arches away from the sheets, you take the opportunity, darting a hoof under him to hold his body to yours.  Your turn. You start to go in hard, dragging your swollen, ready cock in and out, just far enough for your ring to bump his lips from the inside before slamming to hilt again, the slight shift in position allowing you to put in so much more strength, wanting nothing more right now than to be as far inside as you can manage.  He roils under you, each pump of your shaft into his shivering slit drawing his climax out even longer.  It doesn’t take you long like this, smashing his desperate, sopping marehood, feeling the spray of your mingling sexes wet your thighs with each mighty thrust. Suddenly, your mind goes white. With a definitive grunt, everything comes crashing back down, every ounce of tension pouring directly into your lover’s womb, throbbing, gushing, and hot.  You can feel nothing around you except your collective embrace, cradling him and holding his face to your chest, his still quivering folds tight around your shaft, his muscles hugging your length and working to milk every drop from you as your sack keeps emptying heavy jets of your virility into him.  You hold him close, feeling the passion of the moment just as clearly as he despite not having his senses.  Your bodies locked together like they were purpose designed to be held to one another like this, you both share the closeness of each other, neither desiring anything more in this world. As the heat fades, your muscles turn to rubber.  Both of you collapse as one, panting sweaty, musky, and spent.  A big, goofy, satisfied grin spreads onto his cheeks, one you can feel yourself starting to mirror. He chitters at you for a moment before blushing and giggling, “Hold on, let’s try that in a language you know… Thank you.  That was… unbelievable.” You smile confidently, nibbling weakly at his neck and shoulder again, cooing out a dreamy agreement. He yawns, wrapping his forelegs around your barrel, and closes his eyes like he’s ready to fall back to sleep.  You smirk and give him a little kiss on the chest.  No sleep for you, though, that rut left you hungry.  That or the hangover… It occurs to you that the headache you woke up with is long gone.  Score one more for morning sex. You shift your hips, still half hard inside, which earns you a little effeminate moan from your new partner.  With a sigh, you slowly pull out, feeling that shock of cold air on your sloppy length.  You peer under the sheets.  Guess you’re doing laundry today.  You smirk at the slowly staining puddle like it’s more of an achievement than a chore, wiggling up beside the bug in your bed to give him another kiss. An orange beam of light splits the room as the sun is finally lifted above the horizon.  You grin, nuzzling at his cheek to point his head to look as well. “A new dawn,” he mumbles out wistfully. You give him a playful nudge, teasing him for being so sappy. He takes a deep breath, “M- maybe… next time… I mean do you need me to be female?  I- I don’t know if you-” You once more cut him off with a firm kiss, joking you’d do literally anything with him so long as it felt as good as either of your first two romps. He blushes, mumbling something about having more holes. You simply respond by waggling your brows. He hides his face to your chest. With a little giggle, you reach down with a hoof to lift his chin.  As his eyes lock with yours, you just smile at him softly for a good while.  The kiss manages to catch him off guard.  It’s deep, firm, and hot.  The soft skin of your lips against the hard yet pliable chitin of his.  His ears flatten back and his frill jolts up to stand completely on end, but he quickly settles into your passion, closing his eyes and just feeling your body and your lips against his own.  Your noses scrunch together awkwardly, neither of you really sure how to get them out of the way of your firm liplock, but neither of you particularly caring about looking silly in front of the other.  Not anymore. You take a quick breath before returning to the kiss, tilting your head the other way relative to his, nuzzling at his lips as your tongue starts to tease its way between them.  As his lips part, you find his tongue very gently meeting yours, just a gentle tease of contact amid the otherwise pure expression.  The heat and the passion fills both of you, but it’s just… clean, warm, and loving.  As you finally pull away, your breath slow and full, the both of you are left blushing. “You don’t have to say it,” he smirks, “I can taste it.” You pout playfully, but nod.  It’s… a thing worth hesitating to say.  It carries too much of a promise. He nods understandingly and nuzzles at your cheek some before pulling your foreleg under his head to use as a pillow, nuzzling his way against your chest, “Yeah… I get that… but I know already.  Like I said… I can feel it off of you.  But you’re right, let’s… not get ahead of ourselves.  We’ve got plenty of time, right?” You pause, not entirely sure how to react, but just smile and agree.  Plenty of time.  You’re just about to reassure him that you plan to stick around for a good while, but you stop mid sentence as you realize you’ve gotten this far and he’d only ever given you a false name. He blushes a bit as you point that out and shrinks down some, “I- uh… Krito.  Just… call me Krito.” You nuzzle his cheek, giving him a little hug to reassure him that you’re not bothered by not getting his name yet, and comment that it’s a cute name.  He blushes again and wiggles his way against you further. The two of you lay there in pleasant silence for a good while, just breathing together and holding each other close.  Yawning lightly, he drapes a foreleg over your chest and closes his eyes, clearly spent and exhausted.  With a chuckle, you realize it must be extra tiring to also have been eating a big meal this whole time.  You just pat him atop the head, slowly stroking his frill and watching the orange line of sunlight trace the room. You might still be a little uneasy about all this, you might still barely know the guy, but you’re already certain.  This is the start of something good.