I felt a hand on my cheek and turned to see a very handsome lady about my age. Handsome indeed. Gracious, elegant. She pressed her body against mine and asked in a low, womanly voice if I had got my black back, yet. I was starting to say something non-committal when my black took charge and announced its presence between our bodies. She was somehow much more appealing than the brash young babe I’d just fucked. It was actually kind of enjoyable, and for her part, she knew how to talk to a man, how to touch him. More of a reward than snapping, in fact, were her throaty sighs when my fucking made her high. The third time up, I was too excited and dumped my nuts at the same time that she was overcome.

As I lay there in her embrace, I heard my green-eyed acquaintance’s voice a meter or so away. "Is this your first cunt ever, honey", I looked over to see her under Abner, the young white-belly that Lop and her own co-mate had just drilled. Rangy frame. So cute and shy.

"Oh, my", I heard a barely adolescent voice say. "Oh, my! So beautiful! Oh my! This is so beautiful!"

I couldn’t stand it. My black had slipped anyway. After a genuinely affectionate lick or two, I got up and wandered off.

I had to get away from them. Something was really bothering me. It wasn’t just that I was in love with Lop. For some reason. The fact was that I really and truly and no question about it wanted men, not women. I’d thought as much, sometimes, since we’d been together. But it was always a trifle theoretical. It might just have been Lop. Now I had my pick of anything and anybody. Had Lop perverted me? Who knows. I doubt it. Whatever and whyever, I was face to face, now, with my cravings.

And who should I bump into almost at once, shy and uncertain, but Aaron, Abner’s white-balled twin.

He wasn’t exactly mine for the making: the hkshihh oozing out of his sheath meant he’d already been driven by someone. Or more than one. I touched him. His glance was so sweet-pretty. Startled. Shy. He had a sishemu blossom behind one ear. A beautiful blotch of intense color against his pale, girlish fur. I put my arm around his shoulder and took his nut-bag in my hand. With an embrace and a nudge, I eased us to the ground.

"Is this OK?" I asked. "If you don’t want to do this, tell me."

He didn’t say anything. I took his licking my cheek as a positive sign.

"How many times have you been driven, boy?"

Long pause. "I guess I don’t know."

"Have you linked anyone?"

"Yeah. A couple."

I was taking him in an embrace. The feel of his body was strange. So small and delicate compared to Lop’s muscularity, but not really a wlkwy body either–rangy and sort of whippy.

"What about fucking?" I whispered in his ear.

"Yes", he replied. "It was nice."

"Nicer than linking?"

Long pause. More licking. But he’d started to grin. A kind of goofy, blissed-out grin. It was so cute.

"Different. Sure. Linking is–a-a-a-ah, oh my! O-OH-H-H!"

My black was up his tail-hole. I pulled hard against him, feeling the intense beauty of his asshole gripping the root of my cock. That’s not all that was gripping: I couldn’t believe that I was feeling his third hand even before I started to drive! I could feel his claws in my back before I scented the blood. Ah, the young! So excitable!

And not just the young. The feel of his claws on my buttocks hurried me toward snapping much sooner than I wanted.

So linking was seemingly very much OK for this boy. He must have been so frustrated. My word. At these boys’ age, my brother and I had been so linked out, night and day, we could hardly walk.

Aaron really was a heart-breaker. He was on the way to becoming red before I ever found my way under his tail, I know. But he sighed and purred so, and licked my cheeks. It was everything I could do to hold my juice from the first plunge into him, sheath and all. And when my nuts finally collapsed, it was extra beautiful to be holding that dreamy young man in my arms. Far more intense than snapping into the cunts I’d just had.

As I lay there on that young man, I kept thinking over and over that I was indeed a pervert.

I wondered. These adolescents, Abner and Aaron, were almost too pretty. And too shy. I had to shake my head. Lop linking to Abner had been such a sight. Lop, with his craggy muzzle, square as a block of wood. His big arms. The dark marks on his shoulders. (And such shoulders.) By comparison, the young wlko’s features were so slim. So fine. Feminine, in fact. His whole body. Seeing the boys walking along, well, they were male, and deliciously so. In my eyes, anyhow. But, next to Lop–well, under Lop. Taking him. Such a masculine beast. In that context, the boy Abner seemed so feminine. I had to laugh: I’m sure I seemed almost as feminine next to that craggy brute, and especially when he was (yes) fucking me.

It was just as well that Mickey and Tim had no basis for comparison.

During the next couple of days, I noted that the young pretties were up to the nuts in one cunt after another. Of course, they were works of art–not necessarily to everyone’s taste, of course, but I had to assume that a lot of wlkwim came after them, like my first wlkwy had. For the pleasure of it (and why not?) as well as for the thought that if he fathered their own kits, they might be somewhat pretty, too.

Speaking of that, I was on the lookout for the boys’ fathers. If they were as handsome as their boys–and they were handsome enough to break up a marriage, it seemed–I’d have gotten me a piece of them. It’s harder for a wlko, a red wlko anyhow, to get a particular male to drive his seed, which I would have really preferred, but I would have been content to empty my nuts under their tails. (On the way home, Lop confessed that he’d been doing the same. Actually inquired. Was told that the "new" family had moved into a different wlkatar. And yes, by reputation, Aaron and Abner had very handsome fathers indeed.)

My black found its way into several more slots. I wasn’t keeping track. (It was a wlkatar. One doesn’t.) The first slot after I drilled seed out of my white-furred cutie was a surprise to me. A nice young lady of about fifty, she was pulling on my cheek-tufts and mane and telling me how sexy I was. She was nothing to sneeze at, herself, but I wasn’t exactly inspired. Some of the things she was saying to me were exactly the same as Lop’s sex-talk, and instead of making me hot it only distracted me. It made me wonder where Lop was and what he was doing.

Well, I knew what he was doing. He was linking with guy after guy. I never remember thinking any such thing at a wlkatar. About either Drushka or Kanyaa or Ranee. At a wlkatar you just get in there and let your nuts snap into whatever warm and wet hole your black is sliding around in, and welcome whatever bliss a wlko can leave in you (as well as enjoying him putting it there). When the bliss fades, you feel refreshed, Ready for more. "Casting a long shadow", like Lop says.

I broke no records. During that wlkatar, I pegged a couple of males in addition to my pretty-boy, and fucked maybe six wlkwim. And I witnessed an embarrassing moment for Lop. I noticed a youngish wlkwy, no great looker, but with a definitely sexy air about her, following Lop around. She’d hunker down, with her thighs apart, right next to Lop and whatever wlko he was drilling. Quite the spectacle, I’m sure, Lop and some male vulcid, who was without doubt as impressed as I was by every aspect of being under Lop’s sexual control. But that’s not what she was after. I’m sure her family would have been beside themselves if they knew she’d been fucked by a rupellid. But her/their honor was safe.

Lop was so polite.

And I had an awkward moment or two myself. Hard black and gushing hkshihh, late in the wlkatar I found myself next to a lady who made no secret of the fact that she wanted me. I was looking over her shoulder at a particularly wonderful guy about twenty years older than me. Rugged, for a vulcid. A nice stance. Strong and gentle at the same time. Almost–almost–a vulcid version of Lop.

Well, what my nuts snapped their SkhtuS into, a little while later, was the cunt. Of course. The stud was on his back with a wlkwy draped over him. Both asleep. Nowhere for me to go. Ah, well.

There’s some justice, though. The last time my nuts snapped at that wlkatar, the very last time, they injected Abner, the selfsame handsome youth that Lop had made a man.

I came on him snoozing. Gorgeous as he was, he was a mess. He would have been so busy linking and fucking that he wouldn’t have had a chance to do much grooming anyway, and his hard back when he was asleep confirmed he was zonked out on sex. Like what they say about white-balled wlkon at the end of a wlkatar–"khtu coming out of their nostrils". Not literally true, of course, even though just about every man at the wlkatar had followed Lop into his ass.

Every man but one.

I lay down next to him and put an arm over his chest. Without thinking, I reached over and caught his sopping-wet scrotum in a loop of my tail. He opened his eyes and looked at me for a long moment. Big, serious, dark eyes. Beautiful. Beautiful in a way that was totally different from how Lop was beautiful. Maybe it was because he was reeking with the hkshihh, of some twenty different males; or maybe it was just exciting to be so close to such a handsome youngster, but exhausted as I was, I felt my black between our bodies!

"Oh. It’s you", he said. He was groggy. "Um, yeah. I–let’s–let me link you–"

I’d been there myself. High as a cloud.

"You having a good time?" I asked, licking his face a couple of times. "Being a man is a lot more fun than being white, isn’t it?"

"Yeah", he mumbled. "Cunt–cunt is–wonderful–but–my hot cock–look, please, I’d really like to scrape your hole."

My goodness. That was one coarse expression I don’t think I ever heard even Lop use! And the boy’s whiskers twitched in embarrassment at my reaction. "I, um, can’t believe I said that. But–please–you’ve got to–your black or mine–please–?"

His speech was slurred. He was so shyly sweet that I almost laughed out loud.

"I hope my friend didn’t cock-whip you."

He frowned. He was trying to remember. "No", he said. "No. He didn’t. He was very nice. It was amazing. At first. Startling. I didn’t remember–but then it felt so–so–so beautiful." That shy smile again. "My twin and me, we used to link all the time. Nothing like that. Oh, my. So beautiful. So–urgent. It was like our bodies were melting together. He could have killed me if he wanted to. But he didn’t. He just made it beautiful. I couldn’t breathe. He’s–he’s–big."

(Tell me about it!)

"So you liked it."

"Oh–he–he–it was so beautiful. I had no idea–I thought rupellids–" the boy’s mumbling was hard to understand. He peered at me. "–Rupellids were–oh, I’m sorry, sir. He’s your friend. I mean, he’s nothing like I thought. Is he always like that?"

"Like what?"

The boy’s soft gaze seemed to lose focus.

"Can we link, now?"

"Tell me what you were going to say about my friend."

"Wha–? Oh–well–I–I don’t know. I, um, thought he’d be rough. I was afraid. And that was even before–yeah, can we link, now? I’ll do anything–"

"Go on–‘that was even before’ what?"

He looked at me so sweetly. I almost burst into tears he was so pretty. And so distracted. All the could think about was another blast of beauty between his legs, he didn’t care whether it came out of his black or went into his socket. And here I was trying to worm out of him what linking with Lop was like. (It was pretty silly of me, I admit; I should have been spending my time working up to a good snap in his gut, not quizzing him.)

"Huh?"

"You said something about being afraid he’d be rough."

"Uh, yeah. Yeah. That was before he made me take that black of his. All of it. Somehow." He swallowed. "But he was–he was–well, not like that at all." There as a long pause. "And–and then, when he finally came–" I liked that "finally"–"he saw I was black. And he said I’d lose my SkhtuS just getting into a cunt. So he offered me his butt." Another Long pause. The boy was having a hard time following his own conversation. "To take the heat, he said. And–yeah, he’d made me hot, all right. I thought I’d–" A slow grin spread over his face, at the memory. "Even though he’d just juiced. It was so considerate. And he knew what he was talking–um, it was so beautiful, he hadn’t even gripped me yet, not much anyhow, when my nuts went and emptied. Whoa! It was so intense. Unbelievably beautiful. I thought I was dying. Just thinking about it makes me–please drill me! Please! Can’t we–um–oh, man, just listen to me! He–he was right about that. I would never have lasted in a cunt, his cock had made me so hot. And I never could have imagined myself linking with anyone so–so–"

"Rugged?"

"Yeah. That, too. Oh, it was beautiful."

No doubt it was quick. Abner’s first link. I’d missed it completely. Just as well. I felt ashamed of myself for hoping that Lop was disappointed in the young beauty’s early spill. I wondered how much SkhtuS Lop had gotten put up his ass from anyone else.

I don’t remember thinking things like that at any wlkatar before. About either Drushka or the ladies.

I eased myself on top of the boy’s chest, and he raised his legs.

"Oh, thank you, thank you!" His words gurgled through his purring.

"You want my black?" I asked.

"Yes", he said. "Yes. Yes. Oh yes."

A few more licks and minute or two later, I was up to the hkshihh-soaked scrotum in that gorgeous young man. Before setting to work I just pulled. Hard. could feel my sheath rumpling against his asshole. The beauty of it made my mane stand up straight. I’m not the stretch that Lop is, I know, but I know I he could feel that. And when I got to work I gave the boy a good drilling for his money. I was giving him the Lop-type hug, but I kept pulling my head back a little so I could see his face. Here was a guy who’d been linking and slotting for three days straight and was so zonked out on bliss he couldn’t finish a sentence, but as I felt his hand clamp down on my black he was moaning and squirming around under me as if the beautiful feelings were something totally new.

How well I remembered being in his shoes. You’re so permanently hot, and high on SkhtuS, that you practically feel like juicing from a lick on the neck. And my exquisite little cub certainly seemed to be playing the part. Well, the same goes for me. The young man was so pretty and passionate, and linking to him got me more excited than I would have thought possible. At my age! And after three days of snapping right, left, and center!

I’d bet my whiskers that the beauty of my creaming actually surpassed what his twin’s butt had churned out of my wood a couple of days before. Both juicings were unbelievably beautiful. Even if they weren’t deeply satisfying the way soothing my black inside a certain rugged young cripple–

I think I dozed off a little. I woke up still lying on the boy, and his arms were still around my shoulders. Fresh blood. I could scent blood. He’d clawed my back. Or bitten my neck. I didn’t know which. I didn’t care. I licked him awake. He looked at me with intoxicated eyes.

I licked his muzzle a couple of times. "Would you like to link to me, or look for another fuck, or what?"

"No", he said. "I just lost my SkhtuS."

"You mean, just before?"

"No. Between our bodies. You made me so hot. I didn’t want to. I tried not to. It just happened." He sighed. His eyes closed. "It was so beautiful. I–I don’t think I’ll be black for a while. I’m floating."

We lay like that for a while longer, not talking. I wondered what he meant by "trying" not to spill. Finally I said something like "Look, my boy, you’re a mess. You were a mess before, and you’re more of a mess now. C’mon, we’ve got to get you cleaned up a little", and I raised myself off him and started to groom him. I looked up toward him between his thighs after giving his balls a couple of licks. "This OK?"

"Yes", he said, running his hands through my mane. "Oh. Oh! Yes."

"How long have you two been cold?" I asked, between licks. There was no sorting out the many sources of SkhtuS and hkshihh in his fur–his own (very fresh); however many males had drilled him; however many males’ juices he’d picked up second-hand from the cunts and groins of wlkwim–I couldn’t even be sure I was picking up Lop’s scent. Probably removed in an earlier clean-up. Too bad; it would have been kind of romantic to scent him. But there wasn’t any room for doubt: I’d watched him putting it there. And as brief as his coupling with Lop’s ass had been, the boy had surely picked up more, from Lop’s belly and balls and thighs. (If Lop had been as thrilled by the prospect of having this boy as I suspected, the hkshihh would have gotten all the way to his knees before he got the youngster horizontal.)

"I want–" he said, taking my arms in his hands, mumbling and purring, "I want to fuck you, I need a fuck bad. My balls are killing me. Honest."

Fine talk for a kid! "Fuck!" A man! And this was a guy who just said his wood was out of commission!

He was trying to rearrange me for sex, continuing his mumbling about his peg and the hot juice he had for me and the tingling in his prick. And he was in fact black, a pretty display of maleness against the pale fur of his belly.

But–what was this about "fuck"? For a second I had this crazy thought that Lop and I had found our co-wives. But there was a simpler explanation.

"Son, I’m a wlko. –Link?"

"Oh", he said. Just, "Oh." He kept on licking my neck and cheeks. "But–uh, um, yeah, I mean link. My black itches so bad, please, mister–I mean–you’ve probably been busy, your seed could use a shot of SkhtuS, maybe? Please–please–my nuts are killing me–my prick–"

He was trembling. He was pleading. Shy, tongue-tied Abner. Amazing what a liter or so of SkhtuS injected over a day or two can do to a boy’s self-control. Babbling about his swollen eggs and itching black. (I could believe that.)