Arrow Lake [m] cool about it

the man was practiced in a way the boy was not, and his pelt was thickly scented with wren, pooling heat in syrupy sensation along her belly. his rumbling tones vibrated the delicacy of her wanting flesh, and it was with her own zeal that she moved serpentine before him, back into his embrace. much as she had done with the pretty dancer, silvertongue took the ivory man through the pleasant, deeply satisfying convolutions of body and muscle which came to her almost through memory, hoping to bestow a series of memorable moments. she had watched wren; now she watched again, simmering. the man's breath scorched her hackles as the silver wolf thrummed beneath him. he did not need her guidance; she felt the care with which the stranger treated her, and her enjoyment of it was clear.

***

the pale man was pleased, eager to remain. but silvertongue rejoined her wife, turning into the kiss, the caress, with a sharp and audible intake of breath, eyes darkened with a desire that burned only for wren. and like her mate, she too grinned toward the young male who had so pleased the pair of sapphics, though for the alabaster man her eyes leveled in silent approval of how he too had twined with them. she was ready to be gone; time would tell whether or not they might be given new life, but silvertongue was rather sure that the efforts on the parts of all four would bring forth fruit.