Then he looked back at Janaza, and the orc was grinning from ear to ear. “What?” he asked.
“You want to bang her, don't you?”
Vann looked again, this time allowing his eyes to go further up her flanks, along her torso, and linger on those perky breasts, filling her cloth vest almost to the point where the fabric would burst. “Yeah, I do,” he admitted. “It still just seems incredibly weird, though.”
“Hey, I'll tell you what.” Janaza leaned in conspiratorially. “The centaurs have this liquor that will fuck you up something crazy. I bet if you had a pint of it you'd be able to get yourself past the weirdness factor.”
“Oh, really?”
She winked. “Trust me. It got me past a few barriers myself.”
Vann leaned into her. “Where and when?”
“Those are not stories for the here and now,” Janaza murmured. Her breath fanned over his face, sweet and hot, the scent getting an automatic reaction out of him, his cock surging in his pants.
Vann kissed her quickly, a brief, passionate meeting of lips and tongue. “Later then.”
Janaza actually blushed, her orange skin deepening to the color of a ripe peach. “Oho! Are you even going to need the booze after all?”
“So long as I keep thinking of the stable horses whenever I look at her rear end, yes.”
The orc's laugh echoed merrily among the trees.
They kept going upriver, stopping on the bank of the river that night. The atmosphere among the centaurs was much more jovial, though still a little restrained. It seemed clear they were still apprehensive about something that may or may not be around them, but none of them, not even Ashern, were forthcoming with details. “Something doesn't feel quite right,” the centaur leader said.
Despite his trepidation, they slept well that night, and the next day resumed heading up the river, the centaurs poling them through several still sections of river. Gradually, Vann began to see signs of life. Through the thick trees he glimpsed some homesteads, simple wooden houses built from the trees that surrounded them. Centaurs roamed the banks, doing laundry in the river currents, working on projects using the environment around them, and watching them go past. Many waved when they saw Ashern on the front prow of the raft, and he in turn waved back.
“Are these all your people?” Vann asked him as they stood together. “Your tribe, I mean.”
“Yes,” Ashern answered. “We of the Claraan control this section of the river and the forest, and have done since the time of the first Metal Rebellion.”
“Was it because of the Rebellion?”
He shook his head, waving to a centaur mother and her foal, who promptly hid behind her mother's back left leg. “Nay,” Ashern said. “It was this way even before Diavolo came here.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Rorzan saw the ghost float closer, as if summoned by the mere mention of his name. “What do you know of him?”
“Only what was passed down from my sires and mothers. He was quite a man, one that I'm surprised your people have left out of your history.”
Vann nodded. “Because he did things that went against the Lords and their iron grip on the people of the Kingdoms.”
Ashern gave him a sidelong glance. “Yes, I suppose so.” His eyes flicked up to where Rorzan hovered. The ghost stared back levelly. “But let's not focus on the past today. You are in my domain now, and we will show you our hospitality.”
Vann looked up at him. “What kind of hospitality?”
The centaur grinned.
Another hour up the river placed them on the shores of the main Claraan village. It was a sprawling city built from the banks of the river outward, spreading deep into the treeline like roots. The buildings closest to the water looked oldest, the wood dark, gnarled, and patched in many places, while further away the houses were made of newer, more freshly cut trees. There were rudimentary paved roads between the houses, stomped flat and overturned by thousands of hooves resulting in neat and orderly dirt pathways. The layout of the village followed the contours of the rolling terrain leading up to the river, with trees left in the spaces between the houses.
“It's grown since I was last here,” Arielle said from the other side of Ashern. Vann noticed that her hand was resting on the centaur's flank, a bit close to his hindquarters. Was that the centaur version of a hip grab?
“Our tribe has grown over the past few centuries,” Ashern said. “The years have been kind to us, and we look forward to the future.” He turned with a clop of hooves to call to the centaur manning the tiller. “Take us in! Tonight we feast in honor of our guests!”
A joyful chorus went up from the centaur company.
The raft was beached on the shore, tied up at thick wooden posts sunk deep into the beachhead. They disembarked, and were shown to a secluded house not that far from the beachhead. “Wait here for a short time,” Ashern said. “I'll return in a moment.”
Vann ducked into the single story structure to find himself in a bathhouse of sorts. There was a long trench dug into the center of the room through which water from the river flowed. At regular intervals along the trench were deeper sections, big enough for a creature such as a centaur to hop into up to their neck.
“Why have these when they can just use the river?” Ori asked.
“Centaurs believe in privacy just as much as the rest of us,” Janaza said, stepping up to the edge of the pool, her fingers working on the knots on her leathers. “Well, most of us at least.” The leather made a heavy rustle as it fluttered to the dirt floor, leaving the orc naked and unashamed, as she was all the time. Vann gazed appreciatively at her figure, marveling at the surety of her movements as she slipped into the pool.
Ori was blushing hard enough that it was visible through her fuzzy down. “Is there, erm... is there any way to be more private?”
Arielle was shrugging off her vest, and inclined her head to the side. “There's curtains.” Vann saw what she was gesturing to, series of strings criss-crossing the room above them that reminded him of the complicated network that held up the dividers in the Matriarch's residence at the aerie. There were woven curtains bundled against the walls, tied up so they didn't flap loose if an errant breeze blew through. Ori moved over to one and drew it across the string, creating a little partition for herself. A moment later, Vann caught a glimpse of her tunic hitting the floor. Arielle stared for a moment, then shrugged and finished undressing before sliding into the pool next to Janaza.
“Interesting,” Janaza said, leaning on the edge of the pool with her arms folded. “Vann? You coming?”
“How can I not?” Vann said with a grin, taking his own clothes off and joining the orc and the elf in the pool. The water felt unspeakably good, washing the sweat and residual sea brine from his skin and hair. He moved next to Janaza and pressed his side against hers, and she made a happy noise and pressed back. Arielle had moved away a little bit, floating with her head balanced on the edge of the pool, her breasts sticking up out of the water like two little peaks.
Vann heard a light splash from the other end of the pool behind the partition, and saw ripples fanning out from where Ori had slipped in. “Ah!” the harpy yelped. “Why is it cold?”
“River water tends to be,” Arielle said idly, her fingers spreading ripples out as she gently moved her arms to keep herself afloat.
“Feels real nice,” Janaza said. A moment later, Vann felt her fingers on his cock, sliding down the underside to cup his balls and squeeze gently. He growled softly and adjusted himself, letting her get a better angle as he stiffened in a hurry. One of his arms went up along the edge of the pool to support himself, and Janaza eagerly moved around into the fork of his legs. Her damp breasts smushed against his chest, nipples sliding against his collarbone.
“Think they mind?” Vann murmured, quiet as he dared.
“Elf ears,” Arielle said idly, the ghost of a smile turning up the corners of her mouth.
Janaza just kept smiling and began t
o stroke him, and Vann arched his hips into her practiced, now-familiar fingers. He bowed his head so his forehead pressed to hers, his breath fanning over her face. His fingers sought under the water, then found what he was looking for. Janaza let out a breath as he hooked his fingers into the cleft of her legs, feeling her slickness and her heat. They pressed into one another, the water bouying them up as their hands moved with gentle deliberate motions.
“What are you two doing over there?” Ori piped up from behind the partition. “Why is there so much splashing?”
“They're acting as lovers do,” Arielle said idly.
“Aw, gross! What's gonna happen when Vann, y'know...”
Janaza wriggled her hips, letting Vann sink his fingers further into her as she sped up her strokes on his cock. “I'm sure they change the water in here frequently. I saw – ah! - little floodgates that can control the flow.”
“You two are weird.”
Vann's leg kicked involuntarily as Janaza's fingers sent pleasure up and down his body. “I like weird.”
“Mmm.” Janaza kissed him on the lips, and they stayed like that until she clenched around his fingers, the walls of her cunny spasming around him as Vann bucked his hips and felt his passion burst out into the water around them. Just getting a handjob from the orc brought him more pleasure than he ever could've imagined. He couldn't deny that his heart had given a little flutter when Arielle had referred to them as lovers. A part of him questioned just what the implied, but in that moment, floating in the pool with the orc's fingers drawing out another powerful orgasm out of him, he didn't care. It was a question for later.
Janaza tucked her head under his chin. “Definitely gonna have to tell them to cycle out the water,” she giggled.
They finished up, climbing out of the pool and getting dressed. Ori emerged from out of the partition, her hair still dripping and the down on her shoulders fluffed up. Vann wanted to ask her why she felt the need to sequester herself behind the curtain, but before he could get the question out Ashern clopped back into the bathhouse.
“Feeling better?” he asked. He himself seemed a little cleaner, his fur shiny.
“Much,” Vann said.
“Good,” the centaur said with a smile. “Tonight, we show you our hospitality. Tomorrow, the satyrs will arrive and take you from here.”
“Awesome!” Rorzan said, startling Vann. He'd all but forgotten the ghost was there. Wait, had he been there? True, he'd been focused on getting Janaza off, but surely the ghost would've made some off-kilter comment about them rubbing each other out in the bathing pool. Where had he been the whole time? “Well, awesome for you guys, not for me. You get to drink yopou, you lucky bastards.”
“What the hell is yopou?” Ori asked.
Ashern inclined his head. “Come, and I will show you.”
He led them out of the bathhouse back to the center of the village, a wide open central square of sorts. The centaurs had built a fire in the center, the blaze nice and tall, and were roasting vegetables over the flames. To the side, several portly centaurs were hefting big casks of something onto a big wooden table dragged out for the occasion.
Janaza's face lit up. “Awesome.”
Ashern went to one of the casks and grabbed a wooden cup from a stack next to it. He dunked it into the cask before passing it to Vann. “To your health and fortune, Vann Fyfe.”
Vann gave the drink a tentative sniff. It smelled of berries and honey. He took a sip, and his eyes widened. “Holy crap, this is great!”
“Made of ingredients native to our lands, then aged for years in pits deep in the forest,” Ashern said. He got a cup for himself and knocked it all back in one go. “Drink up!”
The travelers needed no further encouragement. Vann was on his third cup of the yopou by the time things started to feel fuzzy, his blood burning in his veins and his vision going slightly double.
Two more, and Vann was feeling it. The lantern lights in his visions bloomed, flickering like fireflies. Faces became indistinct, sounds weaving in and out through his ears like molasses. He put a hand out on a tree to steady himself, and couldn’t remember when he’d moved from the tables.
“Hey, Vann,” Rorzan’s voice said. Vann turned his head to see a blue mass floating in front of him that resolved itself into a familiar form after a moment. The ghost looked amused. “How you feeling?”
“I feel fucking amazing,” Vann said. His fingers slid against the grain of the wood, and somehow the rough fibers felt more pleasant than even Janaza’s soft skin. “What do they make this stuff with?”
“If I knew, I’d be brewing it day in and day out,” Rorzan said. “It turns Arielle into a wild animal. Check it out!”
Vann followed Rorzan’s pointing finger across the clearing. Arielle was naked, dancing by the fire without a care in the world. Her hips swayed back and forth to a rhythm that only she could hear, and many of the male centaurs were looking at her with open lust in their eyes. Behind her, Janaza was still drinking, slamming down cup after cup of the fiery liquor. “This is… this is… this is…” Vann stammered.
“Hey, easy,” Rorzan said. “Looks like you’ve hit your limit, kiddo.”
“No, no, no, I can… I can…” Vann said. He turned around and started to walk back to the gathering around the fire. After only a few steps, he walked slapbang into a large golden-brown centaur. His head bounced off her breasts. “Oh!”
“You…” the centaur said. She loomed large over him. Her skin was sweaty and caught the firelight. “You’re the human.”
“Yeah!” Vann boasted proudly. “Yeah, I'm the human!”
The centaur leaned down, her top unable to keep her breasts from swaying with the motion. “The orc over there is bragging about how hung you are. Says you put our men to shame.”
Vann laughed, louder than he meant to.
The centaur’s eyes lit up. “Show me.”
“What?”
She grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged him into the dwelling nearby. “Show. Me.”
Vann caught a glimpse of domestic trappings inside the house - a table and a wardrobe of some kind - before the centaur grabbed him, spun him around, and kissed him hard on the mouth. Her breath tasted like the yopou - sweet, heady and fiery - and Vann leaned into her hard. His hands curled around her strong body, pulling gently to test her. She responded in kind, crushing him close to her so that his thickening hard-on rubbed against her foreleg. She knew what she wanted, her hand closing around that bulge and squeezing gently. “Not quite a centaur’s, but still not bad,” she purred.
“I’ll take that as a compliment?” Vann ventured.
The centaur undid the catch on his pants, experienced fingers sliding inside to draw his member out. Her palm cupped the underside as she explored with probing fingers. Vann in turn practically yanked her top off, making her ample breasts bounce as they were exposed to the cool air. Her nippled stiffened, and Vann sought one out with his mouth, kneading it between his teeth and sucking gently. His hands roamed the human part of her body, caressing the dense muscles built from a life spend in the forest. He ventured lower, alcohol boldening his movements, rubbing hands along her flank. Her fur was impossibly soft. “How does this feel this good?” Vann asked, scritching her flank for emphasis.
“I take care of myself,” the centaur said matter-of-factly. Her fingers ventured lower, teasing around his balls.
“I don’t even know your name,” Vann said.
“Does it matter?” the centaur asked.
The question took him aback. “I mean… does it?”
By way of answer, the centaur kissed him again, and Vann decided that such a question could be saved for later. A musky smell was building in the room, emanating from the centaur’s haunches. “I want you inside me,” she breathed in his ear, the words like lightning to his booze-addled brain.
“How, uh, how can we make this work?” he asked.
The centaur looked around for a moment. “Here,”
she said, pointing to the table. She moved over to it, hooves thunking on the earth floor. With a graceful motion that defied her level of intoxication, she reared up and placed her forelegs on the table, hooking her knees to put her weight on her shins. This lowered her backside to the level of Vann’s waist. Her tail flitted from side to side, exposing the waiting sex beneath. “There we go. Can you mount me like a stallion, human?”
Vann licked his lips, shimmying out of his pants. “I can damn well try,” he vowed. The yopou was definitely messing with his mind. All thoughts of the centaur’s groin as bestial were gone, replaced by the simple knowledge that her pussy was wet and wanting, her musky scent drifting up to him in hot waves.
He moved into position, caressing the inner part of her golden-brown thigh as he slid the tip of his cock against her entrance. The heat was intense, the smell making his eyes water. Or maybe that was his drunken state, which seemed to be getting worse with every passing minute. Or was it better? He couldn’t tell.
With one last breath to steel his nerves, Vann took hold of the centaur’s tail and pushed forward. His cock slipped past thick labia into a world of heat and wetness. The centaur whinnied a little, her feet stamping on the floor. “Oof, maybe I underestimated you,” she panted.
Vann grinned and drew his hips back, then slammed into her. The motion pushed a wave of musky heat up to his nose that made his head spin. So he did it again, and again, quickly finding a frantic rhythm that felt like nothing he’d ever experienced before. The centaur wasn’t as tight around him as most of his other partners were but the sheer heat radiating from her sex was too good to deny. His fingers curled in her fur as he drove himself into her again and again.
The centaur moaned, her hands reaching out to brace herself against the wall. “By the ancients,” she panted. “Yes, fuck me harder. Fuck me harder!”
Vann obliged, setting his jaw and maintaining his pace despite his head spinning and his heart thundering in his ears. He took hold of the centaur’s tail, lifting it up to expose her so he could watch what he was doing. Her labia were swollen and slick, the wetness dampening his own groin with every thrust. Despite apparently not being as well-endowed as her usual partners - who after all were literally hung like horses - Vann could tell from the fluttering and twitching of the centaur’s hindquarters that she was enjoying every moment of this as much as he was. The visual looked so wrong if he stared for too long, but all he had to do was look up at her beautiful human half, see her eyes staring at him full of lust as his thrusts made her breasts jiggle ever so slightly, to make it right again.
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