"I think you've had enough, Zidane."
Freya noticed Zidane start to nod off into his mug, gently dipping his nose into the frothy refill he’d ordered some time ago. He wiped his mouth with the back of his torn leather glove.
"I'm dun when I'm fuggin' dun, rat," said Zidane.
Freya’s whiskers twitched. She quelled the urge to slug him by taking a careful sip of her bourbon. She’d never seen Zidane this miserable, let alone over one of the ladies he hopelessly chased after. But this one was a princess, lost on the road and needing to hold his hand. Now Dagger was Queen Garnet, seated on the throne, no longer needing his help wading through mud.
He might have deserved it, Freya thought. The thief could be quite arrogant. And shallow. And thick-headed. Even for a human. But Freya obliged his request for a drinking buddy all the same. She too suffered romantic devastation of late. After years of searching for her lost love, Sir Fratley, they reunited only to discover he’d mysteriously lost all memory of her. It was Zidane, of all her friends, who kept her together through the weeks that followed. She figured this drunken evening of sorrow-drowning was as much for her as him. Freya’d come to know that beyond the showy heroics and shameless skirt-chasing, the thief could be considerate, loyal, and even kind.
"Freya, s’that you that’s smellin’ like fishy rat-cunt?" said Zidane after sniffing the air.
"As if you'd know the smell," Freya said, before downing the last of her bourbon. Her third, if she remembered right. "Might it be the dried vomit on your arm?"
Zidane only belched and motioned to the bartender for another. The two looked up from their cups to see Daisy had closed bar and gone up to bed during their bickering.
“Why do these women always abandon me?" said Zidane, knocking back his last spit of ale.
Freya sighed as she rose from her seat. The numb of alcohol coursed through her veins and made her feel warm and light. "Again, you don't need another," she said. "No point dwelling on what wasn’t meant to be."
Zidane fumbled for his mug only to push it over the edge, the smash of shattering glass coming a moment later. He stumbled off his bar stool. "Said the doe hung up on her early fuck from pup-hood."
Freya slashed Zidane, painting thin red claw marks across his handsome face. "Make jest of my cunt, but not my love, you drunken swine," said Freya.
Zidane touched the scratch and laughed, wincing at the pain. "That’ll leave a mark, you behemoth."
The Burmecian stood a solid foot over the staggering human and had to look down to see him. As they locked scowls, Freya noticed what a deep blue his eyes were. "You will meet other mates, Zidane. Your features are… agreeable," she said.
Zidane stretched his arms up high, cracking the joints in his neck and shoulders. "I'd ask Fratley if he’d be jealous to hear that, but he’d probably just forget."
Freya palmed his head in her paw and cracked it against the bar.
From his drunken state, Zidane bounced off the blow and stumbled into an attack stance. "M’kay. Lezdodis" he grumbled as he went to deck the dragon knight in the snout. Freya easily caught his fist and pushed him back into the bar.
"Fucking fool. Look at you," Freya said. "You’ve drowned yourself in drink and pity for days. You still have a life. You're still a fucking man." Zidane started to push himself to his feet, but Freya pinned him back into the hard wood and grabbed his manhood. "You're thinking with this meat and not your mind," she said. Freya squeezed, making Zidane let out a silent scream.
"Plea--, Fre--," was all Zidane could gasp. His own tail thrashed about, whacking barstool legs and Freya's ankles. She looked down into her friend's eyes and saw a mixture of pain and heartbreak. He'd never looked so pathetic. It made her mad. The man’s supposed to be cocky and confident. Still clutching his fruit through his linens, Freya slid up the length of him to feel his shape.
"Hey, what do you thi--," Zidane began, starting to push himself off the bar.
Freya pinned him against the counter with an elbow and continued sliding her paw up and down him. "You've whined enough." She felt his bulge begin to grow as he squirmed for freedom.
"Ah--," was all Zidane said before she brought her rat lips to his in wet embrace. Just shut up.
She could taste his ale as they kissed. He started to suck on her lip and she instinctively bit back with her front incisors.
“Fuck!” Zidane said, holding his mouth. Freya tasted his blood. Before she could apologize he whacked her in the chest. Freya felt her left teat bruise.
“Puny man.” Freya grabbed Zidane by the collar of his vest and pulled him close, growling in his face. He reached around, squeezed her left ass cheek through her cotton pantaloons to bring her closer, and kissed her. They sucked face viciously. Freya blindly reached for her spear at the side of the bar. She lifted the thief up in one arm and swiped all bottles and glasses off the counter with the butt of her spear. She switched the angle of her head in a dance with his, further reaching her tongue into his mouth.
Zidane pulled away briefly. “Pull down your pants.”
Freya answered by dropping her spear and throwing him down onto the bar.
“Ugh. Fucking, ‘ell,” Zidane groaned, soaking in a new pain in his lower back. Freya pushed his chest down flat with one padded paw.
“Who is in control here, thief?” Freya asked, pulling his trousers down to his knees. His pecker was not at all comparable to the girth and reach of Burmecian men, but it was not as small as she expected humans to carry. She giggled at how pink and furless it was. Freya snatched his member and gently sunk a claw into its base.
“Ah-uhhhh,” Zidane let out.
“I said who is in control?” Freya repeated.
“Fuck… Dah… You!” Zidane said through gritted teeth.
Freya withdrew her claw and began sliding the leathery pads of her paw up and down his shaft, edging just over his flowering, bulbous tip. Freya felt him shiver beneath her pinned elbow as he struggled to take a deep breath. She smiled.
“What do you want, Zidane?” Freya asked.
“I…I want to be with Dagger,” Zidane admitted. Freya spat on his dick for lubrication and quickened her pace.
“She is a queen in a castle. Does the great thief-actor Zidane pine for days listening to politics and memorizing the middle names of lords and ladies?” Freya asked. “Or is his true muse simply the need to fuck?”
Zidane’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as he held onto Freya’s arm that pinned him. He began to thrust in motion with her tugging. “But… she’s…daring and…beautiful and…” he said in breathy intervals.
Typical infatuation, she thought. Freya hushed his mumbling with a finger over his mouth. “There are many with these qualities,” she said.
His cock was as hard as her spear. She slid her paw up and down him, messily, sending her spit about. “Now what do you want?” she hissed.
Zidane looked up into his longtime friend’s eyes with ecstasy. “I need to… I just want…” Zidane began before mouthing a silent please to her.
Freya unbuttoned the top buttons of her blouse and brought his hand to feel her. She never knew how smooth human hands could be, feeling his fingers fondle the fur of her breast and his thumb outline her nipple.
“Please,” he quietly whispered. Freya stopped stroking him to rip his own vest and shirt apart, producing his toned little torso. As Zidane felt her breasts with both hands like some sort of curious infant, Freya hastily unlaced her pantaloons and let them fall to the floor.
Freya freed his hands from her chest, placed them above his head, and ordered, “Stay.” With a long leg, Freya stepped up onto the bar, pivoted around in place, and squatted onto Zidane’s face. She felt his warm breath blanket her bottom, his wet tongue began lapping deep into her pussy like a thirsty dog.
“Ahhhh,” Freya shuddered as his soft, moist tongue brushed across her clit. Tiny waves began tingling from her hips to her toes. Paws trembling, she chucked off her cap to shake free her long silver hair, then slowly unbuttoned the rest of her blouse and tossed it to the floor. Freya noticed how stiffly erect his cock was, bobbing occasionally. She caught a glistening on the tip against the candlelight. Freya bent over and took him in her mouth. Mmmm. The salty juice of his pre-cum was bitter, but not nearly so tart as Burmecian seed.
The fire in the hearth hushed to crackling embers as the sounds of sticky licking and sucking and soft moans filled the tavern. Zidane attempted to talk through the muffle of Freya’s muff against his face, “I’n gu-uh cuh.”
Freya nibbled on the tip of his head. “NNNNG!” Zidane shouted into her pussy, his dick slightly softening in her mouth.
She pulled off his cock and took a breath, trails of saliva wiggling between her mouth and him. “The world isn’t here to please you, friend.” Freya swiveled around and started to lower herself onto him. “Tell me, how is it you’ve met so many girls that were the one over the years?”
“I guess I just love to lov-uhhhh,” Zidane trailed off as Freya slid him into her. She exhaled a shaky breath as well, feeling his girth fill her.
“You love symmetry. Nubile curves. Doe eyes that look up at you in fascination,” said Freya as she began riding him such that she kneaded her clit against his shaft and pubic hair. “These infatuations are nothing compared to the lust for one with whom you trust your life."
Freya rode him harder, clenching her eyes to concentrate. More of her juices began sweating down his cock. She felt his hands wrap around and squeeze her waist with authority. She leaned down to let him begin thrusting.
Oh gods, Freya thought as Zidane manically pounded her. It had been a long time since she had-- “UHGN!” Freya moaned uncontrollably. She felt the tingling within begin to spread. Zidane’s hot breath blew against her face. Freya peeked to see her friend studying her sexual surrender in… surprise? Awe, maybe? Whatever it was ignited her. Zidane continued to pump away dutifully, as they wrapped their arms around one another. Freya felt the tingle erupt from her clit. “AAAGN,” she moaned, clenching his sandy hair in her paw, wrapping her tail around his leg, and constricting him close. Freya’s vision blurred and her body was taken over by another force. Her juices spurted forth, spraying Zidane’s legs and across the bar. Zidane and the world sank around her as pleasure chemicals pumped through her veins, the will of the universe taking her in rapture.
However long it lasted, when her vision and use of her arms returned Freya pushed up to look at Zidane. It was surprising, like suddenly realizing where she was, feeling her friend slowly sliding in and out and back into her. They kissed, more gently this time. She glided the back of a claw across his reddened face to outline where she’d scratched him.
“Please, I… I need to…” was all he said while Freya licked his neck. She wanted more, however. Freya took his shoulders, rolled them off the bar, and onto the floor.
Freya landed on her back and caught Zidane on her chest. She lifted his sleepy eyes to hers with a paw. “What holds your thoughts now?” she asked him.
“Mostly the goddess fuckin’ me,” Zidane said, resting his forehead on hers and searching for her pussy with his member.
Freya pushed him off. She turned around, sat down onto her chest and haunches, and lifted her rear to present herself, swishing her tail about to beckon him forth. She turned to look back at him. “Then pay worship one deserves.”
Squatting to meet the height of their pelvises, Zidane greedily dug grabby hands into the soft fur of her bottom and lifted her cheeks. Freya felt him enter her steadily, making her wince in pleasurable torture, feeling every inch. He took her hips for leverage and started his rhythm.
Zidane pounded himself in and out of her. Both the booze they rolled in and their sweat stuck their bodies together before peeling away with each thrust.
“I’m too close. I can’t hold--,” Zidane said. Freya lifted herself up to reach around and grab him by the back of the neck.
“It’s okay. Let it out, Zidane,” Freya cooed. Could a human impregnate a Burmecian? The thought left Freya quickly, as nature demanded she need feel his cum fill her. “Cum! Cum inside me, Zidane!” Freya panted in ecstasy.
Zidane wrapped around her stomach, dug into her back, and thrust himself fully into her. Freya felt a stream of Zidane’s hot jizzum shoot deep within her insides. She grabbed him by the ass to push him closer. She rested her head on the top of his while he shuddered, continuing to pump his cum into her in heaving spasms. Drunk, on her knees, and in a puddle of cheap Alexandrian lager, but Freya was in reverence, feeling connected to this man, a part of him.
His hot seed already leaking out, Freya felt Zidane grow flaccid inside her. She continued to hold him against her back, while he took deep, shaky breathes recovering from climax. She gently slid him out of her with a squishy pop, and a pool of his cum spat out of her pussy, a stream crying down her leg.
Exhausted, Freya flopped back onto the floor, grabbing Zidane as she went. She closed her eyes and felt the weight of him rest against her chest. Their tails wiggled side-to-side, occasionally brushing against one another. She felt him snuggle in deeper under her arm, as if to sleep. His hand made its way to her breast anyway and began squeezing and fondling and caressing. It does feel wonderful being needed, being wanted like this, Freya thought.
Zidane walked his fingers down her chest and across her flat stomach, making her tickle along the way, until he reached her slit, still oozing with his semen. He skimmed a finger between her lips, gently mopping up his seed and spreading it back up her torso with his hand. Why do I love this so much? Freya asked herself, exhaling. Zidane’s fingers reached her throat and then her lips. She graciously took them in her mouth, tasting the union of their juices around his flesh. She began sucking on his fingers, consuming the salt and sour and tart, wanting him to be a part of her still. Zidane retreated his hand and looked up from under her arm.
“Aey, why haven’t we done this before?” Zidane asked.
Gods, he’s charming again, Freya thought. “You were too busy languishing over young singers and the busts of barmaids to notice the warrior you fought beside,” Freya said.
Zidane rested his head back against her chest. “Will you…” He started. “…talk to her?”
Reality began to sink back in and Freya remembered what started this. “Did we not just fuck on the floor of this dive so you could get over your princess?”
“I know, I know,” Zidane said. “I get it. I’m getting over, I’m moving past. He wrapped an arm around her torso to hold her closer. “I don’t think I should… see her, just yet. But she should know that we’re headin’ towards Treno come morning. You know, just to say we’re safe and off,” he said, more like a question.
She remembered the torment saying goodbye to Sir Fratley the morning he left. Freya sighed. “Fine. I will see Garnet and let her know that we’re taking our leave.” She started to sit up. “We should be off to our rooms, lest Daisy catch how this mess was made.”
Zidane rolled over as well and began collecting his ripped up garments. “’Rooms?’” he specified. “You don’t wanna cuddle some?”
His puppy dog eyes made her feel guilty. Her own clothing draped over arm, Freya came up behind him and felt the ripples of his abdomen from the bottom up. “I might. But we can’t always have what we want,” she said sliding her paw up to his chin and turning it to kiss him.
Snatching her spear with her tail and tossing it up into her free hand, Freya walked naked up the stairs to her room and left Zidane on the floor, worn, sticky, and floating.
Half a year safeguarding the would-be queen across the stretch of three continents and a castle guard wouldn’t let her through the front gate. Freya insisted the pluto knight inform their commanding officer of her request to meet with Queen Garnet. She must have scared the wits from the little knight, as they left the gate wide open in their haste up to the castle. Freya viewed the hustle and bustle of Alexendria’s market square further down the hill as she waited.
Did Sir Fratley wait outside these gates as well? Seeking audience with… Freya’s thoughts trailed as an ache swelled in her chest. Her love, Sir Fratley, had gone missing years ago in search of great warriors to apprentice under. Alexandria’s general Beatrix was the last thing he’d mentioned before leaving Freya alone in the rains of Burmecia. When Freya found him, he’d lost all memories of his past, including his love for her.
Freya spat on the street. Last night’s romp with Zidane had been a necessary relief, she decided. It had been some time since Fratley last held her and Freya felt she could trust her thief to share in such a release. That morning she had awakened to a freshly bathed and changed Zidane at her door with a tray of toast and cheese for her. She was suspicious the pampering was some sort of post-coital doting. But conversation quickly turned to worries of what Garnet would say of him. Zidane would prompt Freya with words to recite to the new queen, only to retract them for others. They had a job waiting in Treno and Freya feared Zidane wouldn’t be stable till she helped him find some closure with his crush.
“And you left the gate open?!” said a familiar, uptight voice up the hill. Freya peered back around the gate to see Steiner jogging her way, scolding the gate guard. “If you’re going to protect the queen you must employ vigilance!” said the square-headed knight.
“Steiner, you set a high bar for these new recruits,” Freya said, keeping her spear upright in her tail to curtsy in her red dragon knight’s jacket.
“Lady Freya, it is good to see a trusted face once again,” said Steiner, returning her greeting with his stiff smile and a bow. He turned to the little knight. “Burmecians and other races are no longer banned under the new queen’s orders. Do you understand, soldier?”
“Sir!” the little knight saluted.
Steiner nodded his approval then gestured Freya ascend to the castle with him. She took her spear in her paw and kept pace beside him, noticing the big knight study his own boots with a grim, sullen stare.
“Trouble with a change of the guard?” Freya asked.
He looked up surprised. “Yes, we lost many knights—many friends—when the queen’s ship went down,” Steiner said. “Commanding new recruits is strange. Like fitting someone else’s armor.”
Freya patted him on the shoulder as they walked. “Do not be discouraged. Once you rebuild what you had before, things will fall into place.”
Steiner smiled sadly. “Thank you for your concern, Lady Freya, but my thoughts are somewhere else. Someone else, to be precise.”
“Ah,” was all Freya said. Everyone’s love-crazed these days.
Inside, the keep smelled old and musty. The carpets and canvases were coated in layers of dust. Wafts of moldy cobblestone tickled Freya’s nose.
“The stewards and maids, they are new as well?” Frey asked about the many castle caretakers frantically scurrying this way and that.
“Order inside the castle has been as hectic as without,” said Steiner.
A servant boy saw Steiner and Freya from atop the balcony and hurried down the stairs, almost tripping twice before reaching the bottom. “Sir Steiner, the queen is still not ready for the advisory council!” he panted.
“Still?” he sighed. “What of the general?” Freya noticed the big knight turn rosy in the face.
“Aye, General Beatrix is yet with her majesty, sir. She ordered there be no interruptions,” said the servant.
“Ah, of course,” Steiner said, smiling somberly, the red leaving his cheeks. “Alert us when the queen’s ready for us, then.” The servant boy bowed and scampered off into the maze of halls. “I’m sorry, Lady Freya, but we’ll have to wait.”
“I only need a minute with Garnet,” Freya reasoned.
“I’m sorry, Freya, but we need to respect the queen and her general’s time.”
I’ve humored protocol long enough, Freya thought. She pulled Steiner to the side of the foyer and sat him on a bench.
“And how long have you held…fancy for Beatrix?” Freya asked.
“I…dah…never once... as my duty… do you think she reciprocates?”
“She was once trying to kill us.”
“Only out of loyalty to her queen!” Steiner said. “A quality I much…respect in the general.”
Freya sighed. Must this naff corrupt my new friends as well?
“Have you spoken with her of this? You’re soldiers. Feelings affect your duty.”
“I know, I know,” said Steiner. “It’s just so hard to get a moment with her, especially with all that’s happened recently.”
Freya held his shoulders so he’d focus on her words. “If she’s your one true love, then you mustn’t delay.”
Steiner shot up from the bench with renewed vigor. “Yes. Yes, I must tell Beatrix of my love!”
Freya sat him back down. “Not in front of the queen and her attendants. Let me send her down to you,” she said.
“An excellent tactic, my lady! I’ve been preparing my words for this affair,” Steiner said, pulling out a small, crumbled journal stuffed inside his gauntlet. He flipped through the book, licking the fingers of his metal glove before the turn of each page. This seemed both cute and sad to Freya.
“Yes, steel yourself. I’ll send Beatrix your way,” Freya said, leaving Steiner reciting poetry on the bench and making her way up the stairs towards the royal bedroom.
“Can anyone help lace this?”
Garnet was holding the strings to a very complicated corset she had put on half-way right, looking around for anyone’s help. Servants, aides, and attendants were busy bringing meals, taxation ledgers, and updates to her ever-evolving schedule, bustling in and out of her royal chamber like waiters in a kitchen.
“Your majesty, I need you to go over the diplomatic strategy with Lindblum one last time before my boat leaves,” said General Beatrix, leaning against a tall mirror Garnet was desperately attempting to use. Beatrix was fully armored, a fresh silver bandana covering her missing eye.
“I understand the urgency and appreciate your thoroughness,” Garnet said carefully. “But we’ve been over the strategy thrice today. Now, might I have some assistance with this garment?”
“My queen, you simply must keep pace with these appointments and policies,” said Beatrix. “I won’t be able to attend your dinner with the local aristocrats this evening and you’ll need to be armed with--”
“Nice haircut, Garnet,” Freya said from the doorway. “You wear it well.”
A few of the queen’s keepers immediately began to shoo the dragon knight out, but Garnet snapped, “No, Freya is my friend and a close ally. She may stay.”
“But majesty, there’s still much--” Beatrix started.
“That’s an order,” said Garnet. “In fact, I order all of you out.”
The staff only briefly looked to one another in confusion before hustling out of the chamber, arms full of tomes, scrolls, clothes, and food.
“Fair enough, my Queen. That’ll give us some quiet while we go through this once more,” said Beatrix, flipping her thick, brown hair back and unrolling a scroll of her own. Freya noticed Garnet lick her teeth in annoyance.
“I believe Steiner requested your audience before you depart, Beatrix,” said Freya. “You best hurry away.” The Alexandrian general made the ache in her chest swell. The general had more than atoned for her past aggression against Freya and her friends. But Freya couldn’t help but hate this woman. Ordering her around eased Freya’s ache some. “It seemed important.”
“I will not be commanded by some Burmecian outsider--” started Beatrix, hand resting on the hilt of her sword.
“I would actually like some time alone with Freya,” Garnet said, gently lifting Beatrix’s hand off her sword and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll be fine.”
After a moment, Beatrix nodded to Garnet and knocked shoulders with Freya on her way out. The heavy door clanked shut behind her.
Garnet sighed relief. “Whether amongst fiends, friends, or my own subjects, you’re always coming to my rescue, Freya,” she said, smiling at the Burmecian. “It’s good to see you.”
Freya smiled back at the little queen. “I won’t take much of your time, Garnet.”
“Please, it’d be nice to be called ‘Dagger’ once again.”
“Dagger it is.” Freya rested her spear by the door and walked over to Dagger, her feet padding between cold stone and soft wool rugs. The royal chamber wasn’t as grand as she’d expected. But it was cozy and filled with furs, tapestries and a huge, crackling hearth next to a big bed dressed in red and orange silks. Dagger was by a large wardrobe and mirror in the corner, leaning against a bathtub and holding her breath, back to fussing with the strings of her lacey corset.
“You’re already so skinny, dear,” said Freya. “Is the tummy hugger really necessary?”
Dagger exhaled dramatically and let the torture girdle hang loose. “It seems I have a duty now to wear and do a lot of things my past self would have never.”
Freya picked up an exquisite purple velvet dress from the bed that was no doubt to be worn over the corset and examined it in the candlelight. “Don’t we all,” she said. “I’m actually here to let you know Zidane, Vivi, and I are safe and off for Treno come the morning. It was particularly important Zidane have you know.”
“Yes, I suspected you all would be on your way soon enough.” The melancholy flooding Dagger’s voice was not lost on Freya.
She came up behind Dagger with the dress, turned her around to face the mirror, and sized the gown against her figure. “It looks good, but mostly because you’re so very beautiful,” Freya said, making Dagger blush. “Though not as extravagant, I used to wear pretty things, as such,” said Freya.
“Would you wear them for—“
“Yes,” Freya responded before Dagger could say who. “Back when I could.”
A series of moments flashed: dancing with him at the wind festival, chucking acorns at each other by that lake, warm nights in his den. Freya shook the memories away.
“Ironic, I finally have such nice things to wear, but the one I might wish to see me in them must live in another world,” Dagger said, looking at herself and Freya in the large mirror.
Freya pitied the two women there. Though a bit dreamy, Dagger was a sweet, smart girl. It hurt Freya to see her so torn up by romantic pangs. That Zidane could be such a boob, but he really had started to change his ways after falling for her. It could have been something in another life.
“Some things weren’t meant to be, I suppose,” Freya said, tossing the dress onto the door of an armoire and giving the queen a reassuring squeeze on the shoulders. “You are a queen, now. You’ll meet someone else to share your future with.”
Dagger sighed, leaned back, and rested into Freya’s chest. “It’s more the present that holds my thoughts.”
Freya felt her shudder gently and noted a tear fall in the mirror. I know it hurts, she thought, taking her in her arms. Dagger returned the affection, nuzzling deeper into the Burmecian’s chest and caressing the fur of her arms. She squeezed Freya’s paw for a moment, then slid down to her corset, this time unlacing its strings, and pushed the piece down to slide off onto the floor, exposing her small breasts to both of them in the mirror.
Oh, Freya thought, surprised. She started to back away, but Dagger caught her wrists.
“Please. Don’t let go yet,” said Dagger, wrapping herself in Freya’s arms.
Freya had been among humans for years, but hadn’t known the women to be as physically open as Burmecians. She remembered, for a moment, her nest sisters who all cuddled naked with her each night, even into adulthood. Freya’d forgotten what comfort feminine intimacy brought. She held her tighter.
Freya watched in the mirror as Dagger rested her head against her again. Dagger stroked the back of Freya’s paw with her thumb and gently rocked them back and forth as they listened to the crackle of the hearth on the other side of the chamber.
Their bodies pressed together was warming, but Freya could feel goosebumps rise over Dagger’s bare collar. Dagger took Freya’s paw and slowly guided it down to her chest, brushing over her nipple to cup the soft under her breast.
Part of Freya wanted to stop, but she was filled with yearning to comfort her friend, so she obliged the petition and delicately caressed Dagger, feeling the weight of her bust and outlining her areola with a claw. Dagger cooed softly.
Freya instinctively brought her other paw down to Dagger’s lower stomach and carefully pushed closer into her, the tips of her digits edging under the waist of the queen’s breeches. She wondered if Dagger could feel her heart beating faster against her back.
“Is this okay?” Freya asked.
Dagger answered by taking Freya’s wandering paw and easing it further down her garments, brushing across her mound and over the heat of her lips.
This was all happening so fast. Freya didn’t quite know how to feel. She was supposed to be waiting for Fratley. She’d already released her pent-up sexual needs with Zidane. She was here to say goodbye to Dagger for him. Why was she letting herself retreat to this primal--
“Nnnng,” Dagger whimpered, biting her lip, her groin undulating back and forth, imploring Freya’s fingers explore further.
Freya continued to massage Dagger’s chest, moving from one tit to the other. She ran her other fingers through pubic hair, moist with sweat and bodily juice that began to drool from Dagger’s insides. She leaned down and brought her lips to Dagger’s neck for a single, long kiss that turned into another and another.
Dagger tried to hold onto Freya’s shoulders behind her, but she was starting to go limp in the Burmecian’s long arms. Freya retreated her probing to turn Dagger’s head and bring their lips together. Dagger cupped Freya’s cheek as their tongues began meeting one another in a dance of saliva and interspersed breaths.
Dagger turned around to face Freya and started to unbutton her long, red jacket. She unbuckled the last heavy golden clasp and pushed the jacket off her shoulders, revealing the tight-fitting blouse hugging Freya’s slender frame. Freya squeezed Dagger’s ass and lifted her up before the queen could disrobe her further.
As Dagger kissed and licked Freya’s neck, Freya walked them over to the bed. She playfully threw Dagger onto the quilt, making the queen giggle in lustful glee. Dagger began unlacing Freya’s breeches, while Freya pulled her blouse up over her head. Her nipples became rock hard as her body first breathed the cool air. One side of her felt a wash of warmth from the fire nearby, but she shivered all the same. Dagger saw this, pulled the knight down to embrace her, and resumed her onslaught of neck-loving.
The girls rolled over in embrace so Dagger could sit atop Freya. Dagger grasped her furry waist, felt up her svelte torso, pushed up her breasts to let them bounce back, and skimmed her neck up to her cheeks to grab her silver hair. Freya licked her lips in excitement.
Dagger began humping herself into Freya’s crotch, both their moistness sweating onto her breeches. Freya grabbed the waistline and pulled them down over Dagger’s ass, ripping the seam as she went. Dagger helped kick off the wad of linen and returned to Freya, meeting their flesh.
Freya felt Dagger’s mound against hers and began to thrust into her. Dagger followed cue, grinding in sync with Freya’s pace. Tingling pulses shot to her limbs from Freya’s lower lips as they rubbed against Dagger, exposing her clit to be stroked by the queen’s hair and pussy and clit alike. Freya quickened her motion and started feeling Dagger’s body, squeezing her breast with more authority and feral wanting.
Dagger repositioned herself to cross legs with Freya’s and supported her weight on her hands to better control her fucking.
“Fuck,” Freya heard herself moan. Dagger grabbed Freya’s wrists in one hand and pinned them above her head for leverage. They were slick with sweat and juices and Dagger’s humping became sloppy and wild.
“My clit!” Dagger moaned, deeply. “Freya, it feels so…” The human had started grinding her clit against Freya’s soaked crotch and thigh in feral furry.
“Cum,” Freya shakily whispered. “Use me to cum. Do it.”
The queen bit her lip so hard Freya thought she would eat it. She felt Dagger dig her nails into her wrists. The hurt felt good.
“Hnnnnnnnnnnnnnn,” Dagger moaned, escalating like an airship engine revving up. Then her eyes and mouth popped open in big Os, her voice silenced in orgasmic torture. A geyser of warm fluid erupted from Dagger as she manically kneaded her pussy into Freya. Juice splashed off their bodies and onto the bed as Dagger finally gasped, “AHHHHHHNG!”
She collapsed onto Freya, still convulsing uncontrollably. Freya held her while she shook, gently tracing her paws up and down her back. The queen was gasping, attempting to control her breath, but only let out another Guuuuuh of delightful agony. Freya massaged Dagger’s trembling left thigh, which continued to shake even as Dagger’s panting leveled.
As she gained control of her body, Dagger began to giggle painfully. Freya smiled and suckled on her ear. Dagger only giggled more profusely, her crotch quivering briefly. Dagger twisted Freya’s nipple and climbed off her to escape the torture.
Freya shivered as her sweat and Dagger’s cum partially soaking her fur began to cool.
“I want to taste it,” Dagger said, rolling back over to Freya. She used her tongue to trace a line up the sticky fur of Freya’s thigh, tummy, and to her breast. Freya felt Dagger suck and nibble and lick one nipple, while curious fingers fondled and pinched and twisted the other. The pain shot a pleasurable static to her toes, making them curl, and to her face, making her eyelids flicker.
Once Freya started to moan, Dagger ceased her work and kissed her way back down the Burmecian’s body. She slipped between Freya’s thighs and pushed her legs up and back. Dagger painted deep licks up Freya’s underside, honing in closer and closer to her nethers. First planting a few careful kisses on Freya’s mound, Dagger started to tickle her lower lips with her tongue and lightly claw her inner thighs. The teasing made Freya shudder and wiggle in wanting. Dagger stopped to catch her breath, her hot exhale washing over Freya’s sweating pussy.
“Please,” some other force had Freya coo.
Dagger addressed the appeal by slowly dragging the reach of her tongue through the depths of Freya’s lips from one end to the other, finding her clit and sucking it between her lips.
“Oh, fuck,” Freya said. “Oh, fuckin’…keep… that…”
Dagger obliged with a quick rhythm of cunnilingus, mixing her spit with Freya’s cum as she lapped up pussy and twat. Freya felt tingles stream from her clitoris to her extremities. She stretched, grabbing for something to anchor herself to, feeling she was about to float away. She only found sheets and so squeezed a wad of bedding in one paw, while gripping the queen by the hair to pull her deeper into her muff. Freya started bucking, her hips begging for Dagger to fuck.
Dagger pushed up from her worship to concentrate her licking on Freya’s clit while teasing her middle and ring fingers into her. Freya struggled to exhale as she felt Dagger’s fingers insert themselves deeper. Dagger kept pace polishing Freya’s button while she rocked her fingers in and out of her, going just a bit deeper with each thrust.
“Gods,” Freya shuttered. “Gods, I’m close.” She couldn’t stop panting, making small whining sounds with her breath. Her limbs felt fuzzy and numb and tingly, her clit pulsing in Dagger’s mouth and her blood pumping in cadence. Dagger sat up to hastily flick Freya’s clit with her fingers and her other hand began fucking upwards. Freya lost control of her body with a surge of numb and felt the world sink around her. Hot chemicals activated in Freya’s loins, flooding her body with streams of ecstasy, shooting to her head and toes. She arched her back, as if being lifted by the rapture. “OOHHHHHH.” She squirmed in place, unable to wriggle out of Dagger’s relentless working of her cunt. The waves in her body eventually slowed, but as the gleeful numb permeated through her, she felt Dagger continue to finger fuck her dutifully.
“Keep going,” Dagger said excitedly. Freya managed to look up in her euphoria and see Dagger, unrelenting in her fingering. Freya thought it was impossible to cum again, but as Dagger continued to fuck her, she felt her clit stir once more. Freya hadn’t the energy to scream out as this orgasm took her. She panted silently as she proceeded to jerk and quake in ecstasy. The push of her bodily juice forced Dagger’s hand out of her and squirted all over the queen’s flesh, each eruption pumping in tandem with her pulsing waves of pleasure.
Freya felt helpless to the bliss that kept her in thrall. She hadn’t noticed Dagger sneak under her arm and kiss her neck tenderly. Freya willed herself to roll onto her side and wrap an arm around Dagger. The two spooned close, recovering from climax, listening to the crackling embers of the fire dying behind them. Freya took Dagger’s breast in her paw. Dagger held her paw closer.
Freya sank into what must have been the softest bed she’d ever lain in. Her back glowed with warmth from the hearth behind. The beautiful queen she had just fucked was enwrapped in her arms. A faint tingle lingered in her toes from cumming. Freya felt shameful feeling so satisfied.
Zidane would be destroyed if he saw us like this, Freya thought. Or turned on. Could he be both? She hadn’t planned on this. Dagger rested with an exhausted smile, her jet black hair pasted to her forehead with sweat. Did she need this release to be over Zidane? They were on the road quite a while together. Feelings and urges pend, Freya knew too well.
“I am sorry you couldn’t be with him… like this,” Freya said. “Is there anything you would wish he know?”
Dagger looked back at her sleepily. “Be with who?”
“Zidane?” Dagger almost laughed. “Not that I wouldn’t wish the miscreant the best. He was always quite funny, if a bit “chase-y.”
“But then… your dress,” said Freya. “Who did you want to wear it for?”
“For you, you ninny.” Dagger turned over and kissed her, though Freya was too confused to properly reciprocate.
Freya looked around the royal chamber as Dagger continued a barrage of kisses on her neck and chest. She imagined getting familiar with the room. How the castle servants would treat her. Would she continue training as a dragon knight? Would the queen taking a Burmecian woman as her bride upset the kingdom? What would their friends think? Zidane?
No. Sir Fratley was her true love. “Me?” Freya summed up.
Dagger halted her affection and rested on her pillow. “You,” she said matter-of-factly. “You’re thoughtful and kind, yet so strong and intelligent. I always itched to see what was under that coat,” she said, squeezing Freya’s tit. “I’m surrounded by overbearing guards and servants and love-struck men. But you. You’re always truthful with me and patient. You’re confident without presuming anything of others. You know what you want.”
Know what I want, Freya repeated in her head.
“I think highly of you as well, your highness,” Freya said, maybe a bit too formally. “But why would you do this? There’s just too much. We can’t be together.”
“We just were,” Dagger said. “We are.” Dagger cupped Freya’s cheek and kissed her deeply.
Freya greeted her this time, grabbing Dagger’s ass as their tongues met. When they finally parted, a long saliva trail bridged between their lips before splatting against the pillows.
“Yes, but, you know I won’t be able to stay here,” said Freya. “It won’t be able to last.”
Dagger looked annoyed now. “Yes, Freya, reminding me isn’t making that easier.” Freya opened her mouth to apologize, but Dagger stopped her. “Tomorrow will be a new day, the next day another and every day that follows. But tonight I’m with someone I want to be with. We will have made love together for the rest of our lives. What could be more eternal than the past that shaped us?”
Freya’s tail started swishing about and her heart beat heavy in her chest. Without another word, Freya went on to make love with Dagger again until after the embers from the fire cooled.
He had stared through her, indifferently, like she was any other Burmecian. He told her he was sorry but he couldn’t remember her for the life of him, pitying her like a street beggar in his path. Fratley was brought back to the land of their people by a faint recollection as a dragon knight, not déjà vu of a past lover. Freya played the scene out in her mind ritually most days since. She couldn’t help it. Before, memories of their lives together had kept her going in the quest to find him; now she had to gather the will to find a cure to his mysterious amnesia. The life in front of her was one of detached vertigo, like watching a play of someone else’s life…and not paying very good attention.
Freya sidestepped in time to feel the feathery arm of the serpion brush against her whiskers as it swiped at her face with jagged claws. She dug the butt of her spear into the muddy earth to whirl herself round and face the beast as it readied to strike again. Freya met the chimera-esque dragon’s charge with a lightning-quick spear to its scaled chest.
SPCHAW! The creature cried. Its weight sunk further down the spear as it thrashed about.
“Vivi, set this creature to rest!” Freya called out from under the beast’s bulk. The little black mage was huddled behind a tree root, pulling his large floppy hat down over his eyes. Vivi nodded, grabbed for his staff, and gestured in the air to gather a wind of sparkling dust and static.
SQWAAA! The serpion’s mate pounced from the trees above, making Vivi drop his staff. Just as the beast was to land, a colorful blur shot sideways into the dragon’s chest, tumbling with it on the forest floor. Zidane ended atop the serpion in their wrestle, twisting his daggers into its belly.
“Do…Not…Fuck…With…My…Friends,” Zidane spat in the creature’s face, stabbing a new hole in its scales with each syllable.
“Zidane!” Freya called out, struggling to hold up the flailing monster’s heft on her spear. “Focus your gallantry hither?”
Nary a moment later, Freya saw a flying dagger thunk into the serpion’s head, and the brute went limp. She let the dead meat fall with a fleshy rumble before speeding over to Vivi on the ground. “Are you hurt?” she asked.
“No, no. I’m fine,” said Vivi, accepting a hand up from Freya and brushing himself off. “I got nervous in the moment’s all.”
“He’s not the only one distracted,” said Zidane. He yanked his dagger free from the serpion’s brains and wiped the blood on a mossy rock. “You forget your head in Alexandria?”
It was true. All day Freya dreaded telling Zidane of the intimacy she had shared with Dagger. How the queen didn’t share in his feelings for her. When Freya met him outside the inn she’d only nodded to him, and they started off towards Treno with young Vivi in tow.
The whole journey out of Alexandria, into the hills, and through forests was a blur. Her thoughts were an amalgam of carnal encounters with Zidane and Dagger, Steiner catching her in Dagger’s royal chamber, Dagger’s feelings for her, what Zidane would think if he knew…. Most troubling was what all these lustful fancies of hers meant to her relationship with Sir Fratley. The emotional chess made her head itch. She did her best not to let Zidane take notice.
“You’re the one who’s gotten us lost, thief,” Freya said.
Zidane unrolled a map from his pocket with a crack, glaring at Freya. “We are on an informed wander towards Treno, I’ll have you know.” He mumbled inaudible obscenities as he dug into the odd scroll. He pointed ahead of him, about-faced to point behind, and then turned another half-step towards an incline in the forest floor. “We’ve got a spot uphill, my gentle herd.”
Thunder rumbled above. Light rain quickly turned into a steady pour. “But we must be still a day’s journey from the city,” Vivi said, adjusting his cap. The mage hated being wet.
Zidane tested a nearby fallen branch’s suitability as a walking stick and started uphill. “That’s why I’ve guided us to refuge.”
Since leaving Alexandria’s south gate, the three hadn’t passed a single intelligent creature beyond a maddened goblin or particularly clever shrew. “Who or what would live out in these muddied woods?” Freya asked, helping Vivi up a rock as they followed after Zidane.
He turned back to them and gave Freya a wink. “No one,” he said. “Baku always said he dug out a cozy spot in these parts if I ever was hoofing through and needed a rest.”
They continued uphill, repeatedly slipping on mudslides. By the time they reached the bluff face, they were wet, cold, and covered in mud. Zidane skipped up to a large, hollowed tree that looked over the bluff at the forest below. He executed a tumble that ended in a garish gesture to the tree only a true showman was capable of committing to. Freya thought it was cute.
“You’ve brought us to a tree in the woods,” Freya said. “Truly, a leader of men.”
“At least it isn’t raining in there,” Vivi reasoned, as he peeked in before entering. Freya followed after, ducking her head and knocking on the trunk to hear its thickness. Inside was still damp, but it mostly kept the draft out.
“See, it’s got an inside and everything,” Zidane said a bit nervously. He looked to Freya for her approval and drove his walking stick into the ground causing a metallic ting.
Vivi thumped his own staff on the ground to sound a ting ting. The three looked to each other. Freya wiped away leaves with her foot to reveal a metal door with a round handle. Zidane leaned on his stick and smirked.
“Behold the mix of assuredness and surprise only an informed wander can bring.”
The safe house was cramped, but homey. Five rooms were dug out beneath the tree. Each had thick walls of mud and noodling tree roots with windows punched out of the cliff face to overlook the forest valley below. The thief had made good.
Freya hit her head on the low adobe ceilings, struggling to start a fire in the kitchen’s small stove to dry their soaked clothes. She held mock conversations in her head where she finally explained to Zidane what happened with Dagger last night. They all ended horribly.
Zidane meanwhile had helped Vivi make them a stew of recovered serpion carcass and wild roots. “Is he asleep?” Freya asked. Resting against a bedframe, she sipped the last of her stew and watched the rain through the window of the far bedroom. Zidane had arranged sleeping mats for himself and Vivi by the stove a few rooms away. He had suggested Freya have the bed for the night and came with blankets from storage.
“It was a long march. Little guy was all tuckered out,” Zidane said, plopping the blankets on the bed.
Freya downed the last of her stew and started to dress the bed. It was time to fess up. “I must admit,” she said. “I’m surprised you haven’t once prodded all day about what Dagger said.”
Zidane didn’t respond immediately and took a corner of a blanket Freya whipped open to help fold it over the mattress. “I’m okay just knowing she heard I was safe and thinking of her,” he said. “You did tell her, yes?”
The image of Dagger cumming all over her thigh the night before sprang guiltily to her mind. “Yes, before she put me up for the night,” she said. “But there’s also--"
“Then I’m all good,” he interrupted.
Is my thief growing up? Freya thought, surprised to feel proud of the little man making the bed.
Zidane fluffed a pillow for unnecessarily long, thinking a moment. “Though, I’ve been sorta anxious to tell you something else.”
Oh, no. Any time Zidane was anxious to tell her something it meant Freya was about to chase a monster he let loose down some alley or help recover a precious something-or-other he’d stolen and lost. Or worse...
“Out with it, then.” She began unraveling the leather wraps around her ankles.
Zidane looked out the window as if to check if someone was spying on them. “See, it seemed like we were lost all day cause, well, I wasn’t actually taking us to Treno.”
Of course. “Zidane, we were to regroup there. We have work waiting for us! Where are you--”
“Can I finish?” Zidane said calmly. Freya sat on the bed and nodded. He took a deep breath. “I received a tip last night about a Lindblum alchemist. Real out-there mage. Been studying the mind, yeah? They might know of a potion that could restore memories. Fratley’s memories.”
Freya listened to the rain patter against the window outside. Memories. All those memories of their time together. They could be real to him again.
“It’d be tough finding the chum, if he even exists,” Zidane continued. “And I’d assume he’d have us hunt down some rare herbs, or the bladder of some hunkin’ beastie. Then we’d spend what might be years finding your fella around in the world again. And whatever this potion is sounds like a longshot. Might not even work.” Freya twisted her face to signal Zidane that he wasn’t doing the best sell of it. “It’s just…you’ve done so much for me over the years, Freya. Always havin’ my back. It’d all be worth trying if it’d make you happy. I know he makes you happy.”
Happy. The word pierced Freya. Like she’d never heard it before. That’s what this was all about, right? She thought. Sir Fratley. My search for him. To make him remember again. So I could be happy again. But what had these past few years really brought? Days searching countryside. Nights probing pub locals. The worry if he was even alive. The torture of being forgotten by him. Thinking her memories of them together weren’t real unless they were shared. Was love supposed to be this painful? Happiness such a trial? Would this renewed hope bring more years of such cheery days?
Freya looked up to Zidane. He was pulling down the bags of his eyes, rolling his eyes back, sticking out his tongue, and drooling, “Blaaaah.”
“Wha-what? Why?” Freya said, recoiling.
“I kept calling your name!” said Zidane, still squishing his cheeks back. “You disappeared into space on me.”
Freya laughed. “Sorry, well I’m back. But stop it. Your face scares children enough as it is.”
Zidane obliged and plopped next to her on the bed. “Well, what then? What do you think? What you wanna do?”
Freya took his hand in her paw. “I appreciate all this, but what do you want to do?”
“Me?” he said. “I…I want to help you find Sir Fratley.”
“But why, really?”
“I guess…” Zidane started. “Like what was said. I wanna make you happy.”
Freya leaned down and kissed him once.
“You’ve been doing that for years now. Well, in your own way,” she said, holding the side of his head in her paw, sweeping through his thick, sandy hair with a thumb. “What do you want?”
Zidane fidgeted and shifted nervously. “Uh, well. Sword-to-my-neck, at the moment, I’d say I’d fancy some activity with our naughty bits.” He took her paw away and held it off his face, squinting at her like this was some trick. “But I thought ‘we can’t always have what we want.’”
How can his face always be so funny, she thought, giggling. And still so handsome?
“This is truth. But it would imply that sometimes we do,” Freya said.
His look of suspicion turned to one of hungry lust. Freya started to salivate and felt his chest through his damp linens.
“Try to be quiet. For Vivi,” she said, before kissing his neck.
He soaked in the affection and started grabbing for her crotch. “Are you capable of that?”
She answered by pinching his nipple between her claws.
“Ga-A-a-A-a-h!” Zidane groaned through his teeth. “Easy with the hurty this time, if you want me hushed.”
“Then shut up,” Freya said as she leaned in and kissed him. He took her in his arms to pull her closer. Zidane hastily felt for a means of disrobing her top, untucking the blouse from her breeches. She pushed him away, flung the shirt off in one quick motion, and continued making out.
Zidane cupped Freya’s crotch through her breeches, feeling her from back to front to back again. Freya melted when he took her tit in his mouth, flicking her nipple with his tongue. She stretched out her legs to let him inspect her further. Zidane massaged her nethers with ample vigor, struggling to find her spot against her wishful thrusting. Freya’s toes curled without her permission and dug into the hard ground. They fumbled to kiss as she desperately clawed at the buttons of her breeches, Zidane helping her tear them down her legs. She splayed out on the mattress to present her freed privates. Zidane required no further prompt and went to work servicing her pussy with liberal licking and sucking and slurping.
“Aohmmm,” Freya sighed. Breathing became difficult as each trembling inhale shook her inflating chest. She threw her legs over Zidane’s shoulders. He dug his squirming tongue deeper into her. Orgasm took her quickly. Freya arched her back as chemical satisfaction snaked its way from her clit down her legs to her toes. She gagged on a pillow to muffle her moans. Shuddering legs wrapped around Zidane, smothering his face in her snatch. Hot, sticky fluids leaked from their joined lips, down her taint.
Freya’s limbs were useless as wet noodles. The fuzzy numb lingered and Freya laughed painfully from her belly. Zidane continued to drink from her when she regained control of her body enough to tickle his wet chin with her tail. He started laughing too.
“Piss off with that,” said Zidane, sitting up onto his knees and whipping his mouth. “Breaking my concentration.”
Freya rolled up to meet him. “I can do more than that,” she said, reaching for the buttons of his shirt. She let him explore her chest as she undressed him, soaking in the curves of his cheekbones, milky blue of his eyes, and the scratch marks she gave him. When she pulled his trousers down, his cock bobbed upward to salute her. She seized Zidane in her paw and watched him melt into a goatish smile. They kissed for a moment as she slid her palm up and down the length of him. She guided him onto his back then yanked the last wad of trousers off him.
Freya mounted Zidane and slid down onto his cock slowly. Her eyes fluttered as the fleshy girth filled her. She rode him carefully, undulating to brush her clit against him. The slow teasing made Zidane squirm in lustful misery. She felt his hips rock against her motion, wishing to buck.
“More,” Zidane whispered. “Please?”
Freya giggled, lifting his ankles from behind her to point his feet up in the air. She brought her tail to her mouth and sucked on it for Zidane to see.
“Uh, what are we doin’ now, Frey--aaaaaah,” Zidane trailed off as Freya probed her tail around the crack of his ass, fumbling for his hole.
“You want ‘more?”” Freya asked, circling the rim of his orifice with her tail.
Before Zidane could protest further, Freya steadily inserted her tail into his ass. His face tightened as he held his breath, trying not to blurt out obscenities. “Relax yourself,” Freya advised, dipping her tail in and out of him. He closed his eyes to concentrate and took focused, deep breaths. Freya delighted in watching his struggle.
Freya reached her tail in further and further until she found the spot she was looking for. Zidane’s eyes blurted open and his dick swelled to fullness inside her. “Is it good?” Freya asked, rubbing his prostate.
“It’s…I don’t think I can…is good,” he mumbled like the wind was knocked out of him.
Freya continued to finesse both his inner ass and cock, watching him gasp silently.
“Oh, gods… cumming,” was all Zidane could say.
Freya felt his sphincter inflate around her tail. A moment later a burst of hot goo erupted inside her. She sat motionless on him, feeling waves of his cum pump into her. With each release, she felt his inner ass clench around her tail. One of Zidane’s legs quivered intermittently in her paw as he continued to squirt the last of his seed in her. She carefully laid both feet back down, leaned over to kiss his neck, and popped her tail out of him. Cum leaked from her down his cock.
Freya felt Zidane soften, but wasn’t ready to separate from him. She nuzzled into his neck and smiled; his cum was so warm inside her. There was something about it being his cum, her friend she’d known, trusted, and fought beside for so long, that made her feel something like… happy? Complete? It felt right. Without thinking, she whispered, “I love you right now” in his ear.
The silence that followed hung heavy in the air. Did she really just say that? But I’m supposed to love—she started to think. How could anyone be supposed to love anyone? We don’t really choose these things, do we? Loving Zidane seemed ridiculous. But in this moment it was true. Maybe this would bring trouble the next day. Maybe it would save her life next week. Worrying about such things wasn’t actually planning for the future. It was a distraction from the present. Presently, she was tingling from post-climax, enwrapped with a handsome lover she’d grown to care for over the years. She snuggled closer.
But why hadn’t he responded? Freya looked up to find him passed out.
“You can be such a boob,” she said before rearranging herself to be in his arms.
Freya slept that night with Zidane still inside her, listening to rain patter against the window, enjoying the softness of its sound. It reminded her of a time with Fratley she’d had years ago. She looked back on the night fondly. Would she later look back at this night as well?
There was still a question of where they would be off to tomorrow. Freya decided to leave the answer for after she woke and fucked him again.
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