S

There is nothing you hate as much as the way the smell of the lab seems to seep into your clothes and stick to your skin after you’ve been working there all day.

When you get back to your tiny living quarters at hells gate after twelve or fourteen hours, you usually smell like dank, half-rotted crates and dust and damp concrete and dirt. It doesn't matter that you recently cleared out all the crates and sealed all the leaks and dusted until you were streaming-eyed and dripping-nosed, that the labs are as clean and sterile as you could make it. It still smells like what it is: an old, moldering wreck of a science shack.

Back at hells gate, you strip down less than two feet in the door, and then just stand there in your skin for a minute, stretching your arms, rubbing your temples, your eyes.

You’re tired and your back and neck ache from hunching over books and datapads all day, and it's another damned day with nothing to show for your work. Another day that feels like a waste of time.

Toeing the pile of clothes out of the way you sigh as you head for the bathroom. A nice long shower would be just the thing, relax some of the ache of your muscles and erase the stink of the labs from your nose.

Unfortunately, you can't have that.

The hot water heater serves the entire floor, and there's never more than a minute or two of hot water.

Once you‘ve made yourself get up at four a.m. to shower, because who the hell would be using hot water at four in the morning? Someone, apparently. You‘ve got three and a half heavenly minutes that time, but to your mind the extra minute and a half just wasn’t worth the effort of getting up so damn early.

Stepping under the water, you’re already fumbling for the bar of soap. It's harsh and smells blindingly antiseptic, but it's the only option the RDA ships to Pandora, which means the only thing the human-na‘vi resistance could raid. So it'll have to do.

The two minutes are up before you get the soap out of your hair and you end up rinsing it in water that's cool and headed rapidly toward freezing before you hurry out of the shower with a full on body shiver.

— ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ —

The next day was just a repeat of the same events. Day after day, it was all the same.

Numbers and words were swimming before your eyes by now, and you could feel your head doing that awkward nod, lift, nod thing that told you that you were too tired to still be in the labs. But when the decision was between this, or coming home to an ice cold shower, nasty soap and an uncomfortable bed, work was a clearly the winner.

It's not like this research would be due anytime soon, or anytime at all, but you'd only just recently gained access to these files and data collected by Dr. Grace Augustine herself (thank you very much, Norm) and they gave you much more than anything those old dusty books could.

But in hindsight, they could’ve been at least a bit more entertaining. Not that it was essential boring to listen to Dr. Augustine’s fifteen minute long lecture about the importance of—

"Sleeping?"

Your head shoots up so quick, you nearly give yourself whiplash as you jolt awake at the sound of a voice laced with heavy na’vi accent entering the labs.

"No!" It bursts out of you like you’re a kid caught with a hand in the cookie jar and for a moment you suffer in embarrassing silence as you wait for a response.

The contrast between his smooth, pale blue curved stripes and his much darker blue colored skin enters your vision as he takes place to stand at your desk to look at the holo you were studying.

With a sigh of relief to find that the intruder was of no danger, you rest your drooping head on one hand.

It‘s the olo’eyktan, Neteyam.

You’re a little surprised to see him here, since he rarely occupied himself at the labs, let alone show himself in interaction with the scientists working there. His siblings, his second of command and the clans tsahik, were the ones who paid a visit to everything that was lived and operated by sky people more frequently compared to him.

If he did let himself be seen at the labs, it was solely for the purpose of talking to you and letting his curiosity be known to everything you were working on at the moment.

It had always flattered you to know that the clans chief had grown so fond of you, but it was none the less unnerving to have such a giant of a man wandering around and prodding at your equipment, boring you with questions just to disappear again when it bored him. You’ve always wondered what he would even gain out of this, but shrugged it off as the olo’eyktans attempt to maintain the alliance between sky people and omatikaya, see what the tiny humans were up to while using the Clans resources and basically working under their roof.

"No, no I’m not sleeping, it’s just…"

He was so close now that you had to look up to see his face; could feel the heat emanating from his body and smell the fresh, earthy scent of his skin as he smiled down at you, board arms lazily crossed over his chest, resting just above his impressively woven cummerbund that showed off his warrior expertise. The armband around his biceps was stretched taut, and you couldn’t help but swallow down the salvia that pooled at this sight.

Clearing your throat, you quickly start again where you had left off, "I‘m trying to study this plant, we call it rain thistle. But it’s hard if you can only look at it through holograms and screens and super old recordings, you know?" With a sigh of frustration, you close the tab on your datapad and with it, the hologram that was projected onto your desk.

"Oh. Just get one to study up close." Neteyam says with a genuine smile, like it’s so obvious and you’re just a silly little human that wouldn’t have thought of that before, the most simplest answer. As if he was so oblivious to the struggle it would bring to even get close to one.

"Ha-ha, very funny," you can’t help but roll your eyes, a reaction that causes Neteyams hairless brows to raise in amusement. You know he didn’t mean to make fun of you, but still. "It only grows all the way up in the hallelujah mountains, near the banshee nests," you explain calmly, but you could feel your patience wearing thinner the more his grin widened. "There’s no way I could get one and come back alive."

Neteyam looks at you for a long moment, golden orbs entirely focused on you as he silently ponders, and then speaks up, "Ikran don’t eat humans."

You blink, considering.

Neteyams expression hasn't changed, nothing but mild curiosity, but you can sense his teasing through that grin on his lips.

There are about a million reasons as to why "just getting one" would surely end in your death and you‘re sure Neteyam knows. Still, you can’t help the sarcastic comments that only make him snicker at your frustration.

"Really? Great, that means I’ll live long enough to get the plant and then fall to my death on my way down."

Chuckling, he walks over to smooth a hand over your hair and leans in close to peak into the open books laying all over your desk. "Mawey [calm], I‘m just teasing," he purrs, causing all the fine hair at the nape of your neck to raise.

"A fkxakewll", he then says as if he has only just realized what you were even talking about, pointing at the printed image of this familiar plant in one of the books in front of you.

"That’s what I just said. A rain thistle. During rainstorms it opens up to reveal this “boll” thingy, a seedpod that’s surrounded by absorbent fibers. When the plant opens it promotes pollination in ideally wet conditions and allows the plant to absorb and store water in those fibers. This water storage mechanism helps the plant thrive without moist soil. I believe if we could somehow… I don’t know, figure out just how she does that, it could help us store more drinkable rain water at hells gate. And then we could start to figure out how to repair our water heater. It would make a lot of things easier for us, you know?"

The omatikaya man nods attentively.

"I see these almost daily when I feed oare [moon / name of his ikran]. They grow on a cliff, by a waterfall." He explains casually as he walks over to a microscope on the table.

It wasn’t his usual nature, but Neteyam could be strangely fascinated by the way the human technology at the labs worked once you coaxed him into it. His fingers twitched and he ran a hand over the equipment in front of him. It didn't respond to him as though he had the gene, but he still grinned with delight when you showed him how it worked and let him push the button to bring it to life and look at the little piece of fibre that laid underneath the microscope.

"I would do anything to get this stupid little plant…" You mumbled absently, letting out a groan before turning to your work again. With your back facing him now, you didn’t catch the way his ears perked up at what you had just exclaimed and his tail began to swish back and forth eagerly.

Raising back to his full weight and stepping away from the table, Neteyam then glanced around the room to find your back facing him, nose once again buried deep in your datapad. He couldn’t help but notice the way your hair was looking even messier than it usually did, how your desk was littered in empty coffee cups. A liquid that was well known to him due to his fathers heritage and strange habits that continued to stick to him even long after leaving his life as a human behind. Coffee is for when you’re tired. It keep you awake when you’re tired, he remembers.

"Hm. How about you get some sleep first?" He suggests with a low chuckle. "You can still take care of your little plant problem in the morning."

There comes another noise from you, a sound so quiet that his ears twitch to pick up the noise. "I‘m not exactly excited to get home so there’s no rush," you shrug, pressing your lips to a thin line.

"How come?" He quirks a brow.

Sighing, you explain, "The water at hells gate has been running cold for months now, everything smells weird and my bed feels like a slab of concrete. At least here I have a warm cup of coffee and a somewhat cushioned chair." You chuckle, albeit halfheartedly.

Neteyam nods understandingly, a hint of sympathy in his eyes as he furrows his brows.

"Why didn’t your people come to me sooner?" He cocks his head to the side, eyes scanning your face as if he was looking for an answer there. You didn’t know why, but it made you feel guilty for sounding like you were complaining about this to him.

You stare blankly back at him, cheeks tainting a faint pink. Truth be told, you didn’t know why. You just kind of expected him not to care, to not have time for such unimportant matters. Yes, he was the olo’eyktan, but that was exactly why you thought this issue wouldn’t concern him!

"I… We didn’t think— I mean, I‘m sure you have other businesses to attend to, more important things."

"But I am olo’eyktan, and you’re as much part of my people as the na‘vi are. I should hear about your problems at hells gate."

"We- Listen, we‘re already on it to fix this, please don’t worry about it. I’m serious. It’s just cold water, we‘ll live."

You don’t miss the way his deep frown did not disappear, not even as he excused himself for the night, a finger pressed to his throat comm as he listened attentively to whatever his second of command had to say, before he had to return to attend his duties at the clan.

— ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ —

It’s not on the same day, because surely that would be weird, but when you get home a few days later, there's a small container in the little nook set into the shower wall where there wasn't anything like this when you had left this morning. You’re pretty sure you would remember if that was the case.

You almost don’t want to- can’t believe this could’ve been Neteyams work, but it smells like greenery, like heather and herbs, so much like him. Your eyes widen at the realization that it’s some kind of soap. And it's probably ridiculous to take this much sheer pleasure from shampooing hair, but you don’t give a shit. Fuck, you‘ve missed soap. It might not be the type of soap that you knew, but in a way it was actually really good smelling.

It’s so good, you can’t bring yourself to care, to ask yourself why and how. You’re just so incredibly grateful for this small gesture.

You’re ten minutes into your shower when it occurs to you to wonder when the hot water is going to run out. You frown, mentally calculating the degree to which you had adjusted the temperature, and yeah, you‘re sure of it.

You don’t even have to spin the knob all the way to the left to get heat. You lean forward and nudge the knob to the left, and the water, already comfortably warm, is almost instantly downright hot. You squeak and jump and nudge it back, and then straighten up and just stand there.

The water pressure is good, and the hot water shows no signs of abating. Did they fix the hot water heater? Install a new one? What the hell? When did that happen and why did nobody inform you of it?

For a moment, you debate getting out, thinking it might not be a good idea to press your luck, but then you can't quite make yourself do it. It's been fucking ages since you had a real hot shower, something that consisted of more than just jumping in, soaping up, rinsing off, and jumping out before you were frozen solid. And who the hell knows, it might never happen again!

So instead of getting out, you nudge the water warmer just a tiny bit, and give in to the urge to shampoo your hair a second time, which leads sort of naturally to deciding to use the paste on the rest of yourself as well, since it smells way better than the bar of soap and literally anything else you were able to call yours since you arrived on this exomoon. And finally, that weird scent of the lab is entirely gone, replaced by something natural and pleasing.

— ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ —

Working day and night at a lab with fellow scientists did had its advantages. Aside from the smell of working together for hours in such a cramped space, with no windows to open and ventilate the room, it also meant working with someone who understood irregular sleeping patterns, who didn't expect you to talk before you'd had at least two cups of coffee, who spent enough time in a lab not to care about healthy tans or perfectly coiffed hair.

Norm is a good colleague and an even better friend. You value him and his work, but god do you hate that little bastard for arriving here over a whole damn decade before you did and earning himself one of those super expensive and super rare avatars.

And while he’s busy on his field research project, somewhere out there with the other avatars, you’re once again stuck in the labs, nose deep in a book you stole off his shelve that’s older than Norm himself -cryo sleep included.

It was a testament to the sheer focus on your work that you didn't hear Neteyam enter the laboratory until he already stood -well, crouched- under the doorway.

"Good morning, sevin tawtute [pretty human]," he greeted you in a gentle tone, smiling with his eyes closed before stepping closer. The beads of his songcord clicked against each other as he walked over to you. It‘s the first time you’ve seen him this week and you’re startled to realize he’s not wearing any of his usual olo’eyktan attire. No fancy feather garments or an extravagant loincloth, but that doesn’t mean he looks any less beautiful. You‘re more than certain that Neteyam fulfills all na‘vi beauty ideals there are. Blame it on the human-avatar dna, but that man is build like a god.

Under normal circumstances, you’d crumble under his gaze like a crouton if he’d looked at you like this, a hint of mischief glinting in his golden eyes, but something tells you it’s nothing to worry about. One of his hands is bend behind his back and he grins, causing one of your brows to raise in suspicion.

"What?" You laugh, but still can’t help the slightest feeling of unease.

Neteyams grin only widens when he steps closer to reveal what is hiding behind is back, nearly towering over you once he’s right in front of you.

"No fucking way," you clasp a hand over your mouth when he holds the content of his hand out for you, "Sorry! But- oh my god!"

"A pretty flower for my pretty flower," he chuckles, carefully placing a handful of rain thistles into your hands.

The smile on your lips stretches so far up your cheek that it almost hurts as you squeak, "oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Neteyam laughs at your outburst of happiness, before you abruptly jump up to your feet, startling him with the suddenness of movement.

"Wait, don’t move! I have something for you." Off you go into a different room then, the sounds of you rustling through your bag fill his ears and he curiously bends to the side to peak over and see what you are doing. You return shortly, holding something in your palm that you offer him.

"Here," you say sheepishly.

"It’s, uhm, a bracelet. Kind of. Well, I tried okay?" You giggle nervously, holding the woven piece up for him to see. You had made it for him after yet another wonderful hot shower that reminded you that you still hadn’t thanked him for what he had done. "I know it’s nothing compared to the incredible artworks your people weave, but my teacher was Norm so, yeah. That should explain it."

Neteyam blinks, looks at the bracelet and then back at you.

"I made it for you. I really appreciate what you did for me- for us, this week. I don’t know how you did it, but I know it was you. The hot water and the soap, and now the plant too? Jesus, that’s incredible Neteyam. Seriously, thank you."

The na‘vi smiles as he picks it up from your hands. A sigh of relief leaves you when he starts to admire it. That must mean he thinks it looks at least decent.

"That is not necessary," Neteyam shakes his head then.

"No, please. You don’t have to wear it or anything, but please take it. I want you to have it. I don’t have anything else that would be of worth for you to pay you back so please take this as my sign of gratitude."

"Pay me back? With a bracelet?" His words send your stomach spinning, but the way he smiles so fondly at you sets you at ease. "Paskalin [Honey], that’s almost as sweet as you are."

There was an awkward moment during which you just stood there like an idiot, blushing over his words, stammering to form some sort of reaction. Neteyam only smiled at you— a confident smile’. So confident, you had to take a moment to gather yourself, take a breathe and wet your lips because suddenly your mouth had gone all dry.

"You don’t have to pay me back." He then said, reaching forward to take the flowers and place them on your desk. With your hands now free, Neteyam used the opportunity to intervene your fingers, thumb stroking over the back of your hand. "Unless you… really want to give me something in return."

His tone was quieter. Something inside you latched on to that. You felt the conversation shift, the way an interrogation shifts when the truth's about to be revealed. Not that this was an interrogation, no. Not with the way he lifted your hand and pressed his soft lips against your knuckles.

Neteyam could probably feel the heat rising up through your body, coloring your face.

"I- Yes, if there’s anything I could give I’d–"

"I guess I could think of something."

Neteyam was studiously casual. Still testing the waters, yet again the fine hairs on the back of your neck stood on end as if the air was electrified.

With your back pressed against the edge of the table and Neteyam moving continuously closer, you were soon caged in by his giant frame. Both of his hands came down on the table top then to balance his weight as he leaned in impossibly closer.

Unconsciously, you held your breath and leaned forward slightly, waiting. Hoping like hell you knew what he was planning to do.

And then releasing the breath in a delighted whoosh when Neteyam grinned, eyes staring at your lips, murmuring, "I’ve been wanting to do this for so long," and closed the gap between you by pressing his lips over yours.

Kissing Neteyam takes your breath away, but not in a metaphorical way. His kiss is ravenous, the force of it tilting your body to bend backwards and his lips coax yours open with little effort as you're hardly putting up any resistance. You can’t stop the little moan from escaping once his tongue curls around yours. Neteyam explores your mouth determinedly, taking what he believes to be his. His thumb runs up and down your jaw, occasionally applying pressure to adjust the tilt of your head as he changes the angle of the kiss, feels your hair tickle his forehead. Noses bump and brush, he inhales your scent, groans when it’s just as sweet as you taste.

His kiss is powerful. It commands. Look at me. Touch me. Feel me. Only me. It leads you, your movements, the pace. He presses himself harder against you, towers over you like a mountain. Your hands are small, and they claw at his arms, his biceps, his neck. They pull and pull, yet he doesn’t budge, doesn’t move unless he wants to. You make a whiny sort of noise in protest and he grins against your lips.

Neteyams hand closes around your wrist then, guides it to feel and press against his loincloth and you gasp into the kiss. "Feel what you do to me, tawtute?" He nearly whispers, gliding your palm up and down the length of him. "Feel how hard I am for you?"

Fuck, he’s big.

It was plain to anyone with eyes that Neteyam was taller than literally any human on high camp. A good two and a half feet taller. Even taller than some of the Na‘vi. When you stood next to the olo'eyktan, you were dwarfed by his size. But feeling his cock through his loincloth like this made you realize just how big he actually was.

"It’s all because of you." He leans in close, lips brushing over your ear. "Always you." You hear him inhale, nosing your throat, groaning. "You’re driving me crazy, woman."

"I didn’t even do…," your voice comes out as a breathless whisper, "anything."

"Hmh, exactly." Your breath hitched in your throat then when you felt his tongue glide over your pulse point, sharp canine teasing your skin. "You smell so much like me," he whispers, "like mine." You nearly whimper once he starts to untie his loincloth, one of his hands guiding your smaller one to wrap around his length, feel his girth, the warmth of his skin, while his other hand glides up your neck and the back of your head. With the way his fingers brush through your hair and cradle the back of your head, your eyes flutter closed for just a moment before he murmurs into your ear, "I know now what you could do to pay me back, paskalin."

You look up at him, eyes wide and cheeks flushed in a pretty hue of pink. Ever the gentleman, Neteyam carefully but determinedly pushes you down to your knees. His three fingered hand gently holds and caresses your jaw while you get in position to crouch on your haunches. He‘s so tall, it’s a struggle to get on eye level with the price, but once you’ve straightened your back it’s manageable.

Neteyams cock is probably the most visually pleasing part of any man you’ve ever laid your eyes on. He‘s your first na‘vi, and you’re surprised to find him having little glowing dots all over the length of him. His tip has a slightly different shade of blue than the rest of him, but it looks so smooth and shines in bioluminescence pre-cum, you can’t help but lick your lips in anticipation.

Glancing up at him with eyes full lust, Neteyam‘s are a perfect mirror to yours. With a hand around himself, he nudges his tip against your pretty soft lips and you can’t help but kiss it back.

"Suck," he tells you, a little short of words, but he’s quickly forgiven. He just looks so good from this angle, abs flexing and chest heaving. So impatient to finally feel you like this, as if he was waiting for this moment for so long. With the way he groans once your tongue glides along the underside of shaft he might as well actually had been waiting. Too long, if you’d ask him.

Neteyam stroked himself a few more times before he let you take over, skin radiating heat from every point of contact, washing over you in waves once your fingers wrapped around him. He was far too girthy for your hand to close entirely around it -not that this was a problem.

It became a problem however when you tried to take him in your mouth too quickly after that.

"Easy, paskalin," Neteyam chuckled at your first pathetic attempt that ended embarrassingly fast in a gag. "So eager, huh? You have to take it slow."

You bite your lip at that, caught between the embarrassment and the unbearable need to have him inside you. Clenching your thighs together, you nod sheepishly.

"Stick your tongue out," the olo’eyktan orders and you obey without hesitation. Neteyam slowly pushes his hips forward then, gliding along your outstretched tongue. You don’t need to be told twice when he tells you to close your lips around him and start again.

You focus on his tip this time, slowly working over it, swirling your tongue around it, teasing the slit. You place wet kisses along the crown, before you continue where you had left off.

It all leads to a nice relaxed pace, and you spend quite a while licking and getting his cock thoroughly wet before you open your mouth wide enough to sink down.

"Hmh, just like that, now you got it," Neteyam groans, watching with half lidded eyes as your lips move further down his shaft. Inch by inch you bopped your head up and down his cock.

The slurping sounds you made in the process went straight to your core, sending a shuddering throb to your cunt that nearly made you loose your balance. A muffled whine caught his attention as you pressed your thighs together once more, and Neteyam grins down at you, stroking a hand through your hair. "It’s okay, touch yourself. I know you need it." You felt his cock twitch at the thought of seeing it become reality.

The strands of hair hanging into your face are obscuring your eyes and Neteyam finds himself annoyed at that. You look so beautiful on your knees, soft mouth wrapped around his cock. Nothing should get in the way of that view.

Reaching down, he tenderly tucks the soft hair behind your ear. The gesture makes you look up, meeting his gaze and he can't quite stifle the sharp inhale of a breath at the hungry look in your eyes, eyebrows pinched together as if you’re silently pleading to him.

"Come on, sevin," he purrs, "I want to watch you pleasure yourself before it is my turn."

Your right hand slips down your own body, skimming over your chest and down past the waistband of your leggings. The soft moan that escapes you, as your dainty fingers move over your clit, vibrate through his body.

The sight of you on your knees, sucking on his cock and loving it so much to the point you had to find relief in your own hands was almost enough to finish him right then and there. Heat creeps up your cheeks when Neteyam lets out a breathy groan.

"Eywa, you look so good when you blush," he says then, cupping your jaw and brushing a thumb across your cheek, feeling the tip of his cock through your skin once you hollow them. "You look even better like this, far better than I’ve always imagined."

His word encourage you to slide two digits down to your weeping entrance, circling your slit before you slowly push them in. Your eyelids flutter at the stretch.

"Look at you," Neteyam sighs, his hips slowly starting to work as he pumps his cock in and out of your mouth. "If I stopped right now, you'd beg yourself hoarse for more, wouldn't you, sevin [pretty]?"

You can’t answer in words, but instead drive your mouth down harder on his cock, moaning out what you hope sounded like a strong affirmative answer when you get the breath for it.

Neteyams eyes don't just stay open, they widen. His lips part, and he licks them, breath going shallow as he feels his pulse against your fingers working the length of him whilst you suckle on his tip. His cock's throbbing in time with his heartbeat, and it feels incredible.

Humming softly, you rub your tongue up against all these sensitive spots on his cock, finding a rhythm to the thrusts of your own fingers and the way your thumb was simultaneously circling your clit.

Neteyam just tastes so good, you would smile in delight if your lips could stretch that far. You suck harder, lips curling over your teeth and then the man above you moans.

"Oh fuck," he groans, fingers tightening just a little in your hair. "You've got such a good mouth on you..."

Shifting his hips he thrusts just a little more into your mouth, unable to hold himself back. Teasing is all well and good, but Neteyam‘s more than ready to come now.

You take the hint and drive your head down until you‘re nearly choking on his cock, all but mouth-fucking yourself on it. This time, the sound of your little gags doesn’t stop him though. With one hand holding your jaw and one holding a fistful of your hair, his hips buck and thrust into the welcoming warmth of your mouth. You struggle briefly, but then he coos softly, "Breath through it. Yeah, that’s it."

You concentrate hard on keeping your teeth out of the way as much as you can and just enjoy the feel of being used by the olo’eyktan like this.

Neteyam might still get an incidental scrape of teeth or two with you going this hard, but it's nothing deliberate; you’re just going fast enough and hard enough that it's more about giving him as much as you can than being easy and careful.

The squelching sound of your fingers prodding at your g-spot fills both of your ears and you can feel the tremors going through Neteyams thighs as that.

"I want you to tell me when you're getting close," he groans. "I want to come with you, paskalin."

This time, you pull back far enough to look up at him and nod, and then you curl your tongue around Neteyams cock on the way back down, moving back to gentle, slow, lazy licks and strokes.

Neteyam exhales a shaky sigh that morphs into a low chuckle, "yeah, good girl, take your time. I can hold it, sevin, just do as you like."

Another moan slips as you fondle with your puffy clit, rubbing tight circles into it with your slickened fingertips. Your hips squirm around from the white-hot pleasure tightening your core. No, you think, don’t hold it. You want him to come. You need it. It felt as if your own pleasure depended on him, as if you couldn’t let go unless he did.

The spell that the olo’eyktan had on you should be studied, you thought for a moment. You wanted to serve, to obey, to please him to bring yourself to that pleasure high.

Sliding your mouth tight over the pretty head of his cock, it was if you were trying to suck in a strawberry whole. The action sends a violent pulse through Neteyam that beats against your lips and makes you hum again.

The taste of Neteyam has engulfed all of your senses now, salty and hot and thick. You hear the breaths above and they throb like the pre-cum coating your tongue. You move your head forward again and swirl your tongue just behind his cock-head before dragging your lips firmly over it and off. Looking up, your eyes meet as Neteyam tilts his face and his chest tightens in time with his balls.

Slowly, you close your eyes and then open them again on a heavy pant, hand stroking the half of his length you couldn’t take in your mouth with desperate restraint, driving his arousal harder.

As you do so, you’re working the fingers of your other hand deeper into your core, thrusting and curling them just right, until the fabric of your pants was soaked in your slick. Too focused, you absentmindedly pull back up and mouth breathily around his cock, barely touching it but enjoying it bob and twitch as your breath and the edge of your tongue hits the sensitive skin. Sneaking your tongue roughly down to the base you then drag it back up the underside slowly and Neteyam moans.

Please, you think, as you stroke him faster. Please ... please come. You want it so fucking much and you can't help wondering if you actually wanted Neteyam to come more than he wanted it himself. You doubt it however, because the following groan from above lets you know just how close he was, how much he was fighting to keep everything at bay, to hold back and wait for you because he wanted you to come just as much.

He‘s thrusting into your mouth again and you’re driven on beyond your own desire to suck and savour by those hands in your hair, pulling your head in and away again, repeating this simple two beat rhythm on and on.

God, please. Your thoughts are becoming audible now in the form of little whines and whimpers that change in tone and volume with every movement of your head. He‘s so thick at his base, stretching your lips impossible wide.

More pre-cum dribs down your throat. Encouraged by that, you grab a couple of deep breaths and then relax your throat as best as you could, before moving your mouth further down. You could feel the tip of his cock nudging at the back of your throat, not even halfway in, and you have to draw back just to be able to still breathe. When you lower your head again, you manage to take in more, and the third time you nearly get it all.

"Fuck, tanhì [little star]," Neteyam hisses through clenched teeth, "so good, you feel so fucking good like this. My perfect little tawtute, sucking my cock like she’s made for it."

You can smell Neteyam even more the closer you get to his pubic bone, all sweat and sex and pure natural scents, and you instinctively try to breathe it in, choking hard on his cock as you do.

Sorry ... so sorry, you think swallowing down a gag and looking up quickly as you get your breathing back under control. You catch the way Neteyam wets his lips, mouth agape and staring down at you with so much primal need in his eyes, the sight hits you like a jolt of electricity.

You let out a high pitched whine as your fingers rub frantically over your clit. Shit, you’re so close, so so close.

Starving for the taste of his cum in your mouth, you swallows around his length each time it hits the back of your throat. Your saliva-slicked fingers go tighter, stroking faster, and you can hear yourself making that pleading noise again. Please ... please ... let me make you come ... God please.

As the first drop of cum hits your tastebuds, Neteyam lets out a throaty groan, "Come for me. Come on these pretty little fingers."

It’s all the confirmation you need to finally let go.

You feel the way you tighten in on your own digits, more slick running down your wrist as you prod your fingertips against your special spots. Thighs shaking, you barely manage to thrust them in and out of yourself as your orgasm washes over you like a tsunami. The feeling of sheer ecstasy was nearly enough to make you ignore the burning of your throat as Neteyam suddenly nestled himself as deep as he could reach with an uncoordinated thrust of his hips.

Your climax marks the end of his control, and he lets himself go. You moan in unison as rope after rope of his cum flows down your throat. The taste of it takes you by surprise. It’s awfully sweet and thick, and your mouth feels sticky with it. Neteyam comes a lot, and it’s almost getting too much before he pulls back to let his length rest on your tongue and allows you to gasp for air.

By the time you feel yourself floating back down to pandora, you had lost all sense of time, of place and person and anything but Neteyam.

You finally pull back when the tension in his thighs releases, and you swallow for the last time, wiping your fingers around the outline of your swollen lips to catch any stray wetness. Looking up, you’re met with his dazed expression, pupils blown wide, with sweat beading at his forehead, and entirely spent from this earth shattering orgasm.

"Great mother," Neteyam shuddered, laughing breathlessly.

"Guess we‘re even then, huh?" You smile up at him, voice hoarse, as you gladly take the hand he’s reaching out to help you stand on wobbly legs.

All that comes as a response is a chuckle, before Neteyam pulls you flush against him. "Oh paskalin," he purrs, hands greedily feeling up the backside of your thighs before hoisting you up to sit on your desk, "that was just for the flower."

You send him a sheepish little smile, cocking your head to the side and raise a brow, intrigued. His tail grazes your skin, gently swaying and curling around your ankle. Neteyam holds your gaze for a long moment, his grin spreading impossibly wide, until his fangs come into view, sharp tongue licking over pearly whites before he chuckles, "What about the hot water that I fixed, hm? And I got you soap too. You didn’t already forget that, did you?"

His teasing makes you grin.

"Right. Then how can I pay you back?" You ask, looking up at the man with those big doe eyes of yours. You know it’s unfair to play those little tricks on him, but you’re feeling bolder now that you’ve had his cock in your mouth and seed fill your tummy, so you bat your pretty long lashes at him as if you were begging for a treat. Neteyams presses himself closer, standing right between your thighs now before he lowers his face to your throat.

"You know exactly how", he says lowly and you feel his thumbs hooking under the waistband of your leggings. He‘s not exactly subtle with the way he presses his rapidly hardening cock against your thigh, so you let him pull your pants down with a smug little grin.

"I think I could get used to these little favors of yours," you whisper, watching with half lidded eyes as he hooks your legs up over his muscular shoulders.

"If that‘s the way you will repay me," his tip prods at your entrance, thick and hot and slicked with your spit, before he slowly pushes himself inside you, "I will do you as many favors as you’d like, paskalin."