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The air conditioner was off and the windows were open, just in case any breeze materialized in the hot summer night. Indrid’s skin, being cool to the touch, made him heavenly to cuddle with in this heat, and he was so skinny you could both fit comfortably even in the Winnebago’s narrow bed.
In September you had an apartment to move into and a graduate program to attend. But for now, all your possessions were in storage besides one suitcase of clothes and you had nowhere to be but here and nothing to do but be with him.
Raised voices drifted through the open window from the next campsite over and kept you from sleep. The couple staying there was arguing about something. The sound of a body being slammed against a wall made you tense, but then there was a woman’s disdainful scoff and the wet noises of kissing. Moaning. “Oh, just fuck me, baby,” the woman said.
Indrid snickered as they began to have loud sex. Then he snaked his hand down your shorts and found you soaking wet. “Naughty,” he murmured. “ Yeah, yeah, right there, ohhh,” you heard through the window.
Indrid caught your clit between two fingers, making you gasp, and then he covered your mouth with his other hand. “Can’t let them know just how much you get off on listening.”
You made a noise that wouldn’t have been intelligible even without your mouth covered and rocked your hips - pushing your ass back into him you could feel that he was hard. He slipped two fingers inside you and let you rub off against his palm.
The toy the two of you used most often that summer was a curving double-ended dildo. One end went into your cunt, the other into his ass, and you liked it because neither of you had to do much, just grind messily on each other and kiss. But now even that seemed like far too much effort.
“Fuck my thighs,” you said against his palm.
“Excellent idea.” He pulled your shorts down enough to slot his dick between your thighs and grind the edge of it against your folds. You could feel his glasses digging into your shoulder and you imagined what it would be like if he transformed now, his cock swelling into its true monstrous size as you tightened your thighs around it.
If he felt the sudden increase in lubrication as he slid his dick against your folds, he didn’t comment on it. “God, I love your ass,” he groaned, giving it a squeeze. “You’re so warm, so nice to fuck.” He grunted as he got close, and you resigned yourself to the mess he was about to make of the bed. He’d be the one washing the sheets, anyway. Smiling blithely at the same laundromat attendant who’d been there the last time he had to wash the sheets, now not quite forty-eight hours ago.
He muffled his cry into your shoulder as he came, and then his fingers inside you moved, slowly at first like a bear waking from hibernation, bringing you unerringly to climax.
–
The next day you went to Culver’s. Leaning against him as you waited in line to order made you realize all over again just how damn tall he was. The family in front of you included four children who each had to enter intense negotiations with their parents about whether they’d prefer a grilled cheese or a hamburger or chicken fingers, so you had plenty of time to consider it. Indrid was taller than any regular person should be allowed to be. Only basketball players and celebrities should be allowed to be that tall. Then again, he wasn’t exactly a regular person.
When you’d met him in the spring he’d worn jeans every day, but now that it was July he’d busted out these tiny shorts that might have been in fashion in the seventies. You could almost see the outline of his dick in them even when he was soft and you knew from experience now that when he was hard he all but stuck out the leg hole. His pert little ass was also always on full display, ripe for groping. Biting, when you had him lying naked and facedown with his head pillowed on his arms.
Even when you reminded yourself that there were children here and staring would only frustrate you, it still took some effort to make yourself avert your eyes.
When you finally made it to the register, you ordered a burger and fries and he ordered custard. Then you found your way to a table.
“My parents are afraid you’re going to murder me and bury me in a cornfield somewhere,” you said conversationally.
Indrid laughed. “Do they know what a softie I am?”
His custard arrived. Ignoring the spoon, he bent his head to dip his tongue obscenely into the soft mound of it, and then looked up at you and smiled.
–
The next day when you woke up his face was an inch away from yours.
“Hello?” you said.
“Hi,” he said back. “Sweetheart? Honey bunches? Light of my life?”
“What do you want?” You already had a guess, as you could feel the head of his dick wet against your leg even through his boxers.
Indrid groaned, and let his words out all in a rush, like air out of an embarrassed balloon. “I want you to let me lay my eggs in you.”
“Yes.”
“Oh I’d hoped you’d say that. There’s no chance of producing offspring, and we’ll be able to get them out of you afterwards and all that. How do you feel about egg-based dirty talk?”
“Of course I need the full experience.”
“You’ll certainly get the stuffed-full experience. Right now?”
You stretched and rolled over, evaluating how your body felt about it. “Yeah.”
He leapt out of bed and double-checked that the doors were locked and the blinds were all firmly closed. Then he took off his glasses.
You’d only seen his true form a few times before - he was too wary of prying eyes to spend much time undisguised - but you knew already that you loved it, loved the way he could engulf you in his soft feathers. Now, as he climbed on top of you on the bed you took the opportunity to admire him. His wings were rosy pink on the top and bottom with a broad lemon-yellow stripe in the middle. His body was pink and fluffy, with two pairs of muscular arms, hands already pulling at your pajamas. “My sweet little mate, what a perfect incubator for me,” he said.
“Mmhm,” you said. “I don’t know how mothperson matings usually go but you know you’re going to have to warm me up before you put any eggs in me, right?”
“I know.” He combed his fingers through the hair between your legs, slightly ticklish. “So warm, so tight. But you’ll stretch for me, I know you will.” Now he spread your legs as wide as they would go without discomfort. “And you have two nice warm holes just for me to fill.“
You craned your neck to look at him. “Is that your…” The organ was long and intimidatingly thick, emerging from the fluff between his legs.
“My ovipositor.”
“I don’t think you’re getting that whole thing inside me.”
“I don’t need to,” he soothed, thumb rubbing over your clit. “The length is just to put my eggs nice and deep.”
You moaned helplessly, and when you reached for him he used his upper hands to pin your wrists above your head. “Shh. Just let me use you, sweet thing.”
The tip of Indrid’s ovipositor turned out to be softer than it appeared, and he slotted it inside you with a bit of firm pressure. He rocked his hips a little, and then you could feel the first egg inside his ovipositor, pressing inside your entrance and then deeper, deeper inside you, until you thought you could feel it pressing against your cervix. It was… squishy, slightly smaller than a chicken’s egg.
“You’re the perfect temperature to incubate my eggs,” he said. “It’s like you were made for me.” You hadn’t expected it but along with the egg his ovipositor had expelled what felt like a great deal of thick fluid, slipperier than cum, that made you feel wetter than you’d been in your life.
The second egg dropped, forcing his ovipositor almost all the way out of you, and then the third. The pressure was too much, and you were sure they’d pop right out again, but he pressed a palm against your cunt to keep them inside you and cooed into your ear. “Good mate, that’s right, tighten up for me and keep them all inside.” You took a deep breath and forced your cunt to relax around the weight inside it and hold all of it in. One of the eggs felt like it was pressing directly against your g-spot, and you were sure that if you squirmed you could make yourself cum just like this.
But finally your breathing steadied a little, and he rewarded you by tweaking your nipple. And then he started working his ovipositor into your ass. The fluid he was still leaking helped, and you wondered if it was doing something to you, relaxing your muscles. Still, with the eggs already in your cunt, it was a tight squeeze. “Mmm, this end is much roomier,” he said.
“It doesn’t feel that way!”
“Yes, you’re tight, but you’re deep.” He nuzzled your neck affectionately, lower hands petting your sides. “I’m going to fit so much in you.” The next two eggs came in quick succession, the bulk of the second pressing the first even deeper inside you. You were groaning continuously now, and you could feel the weight of his body on top of you, keeping you pinned. You could feel fluff against the back of your thighs: his ovipositor was fully seated inside you, you couldn’t imagine how you’d managed it. His whole body was taut and quivering with pleasure.
He pulled back slightly to deposit another egg. The skin on your belly felt tight but not painful, even when he pressed down gently, massaging you as he cooed his inarticulate, primal pleasure. “Good mate,” he managed.
“Am, am I allowed to cum?” you asked as you squirmed, feeling the eggs rubbing up against all the sensitive parts of your insides.
“Of course, dearheart, doesn’t it feel good?”
“Yeah, it does, it -” Your clit twitched, completely untouched, as you tipped over the edge of a drawn-out orgasm. He massaged your belly through it, though there was nowhere for the eggs to go but deeper.
Afterwards you collapsed back boneless against the bed. “Fuck,” you said.
Indrid hummed, pleased, and stroked the bottom of his ovipositor. You were too exhausted to register how many more eggs he put in you by the time he pulled out completely, but it was more than one. All you really registered was the morning light soft through the blinds, and the slight tickle of his fluff against your skin as he moved.
Finally, sated, Indrid pulled out entirely. He bent over the bed to rummage in your toybox and came back with a fat anal plug.
“Indrid, no, that won’t fit,” you said.
He sighed and put it back. None of his eggs were at risk of slipping out anyway, though the slick fluid his ovipositor had secreted was slowly drooling out of you, running down your sensitive skin. Your belly was so heavy you didn’t think you could move.
Indrid found his glasses on the side table and put them back onto his face. Without the great bulk of his true form he could fit on the bed next to you, and there he collapsed, turning his head on the pillow to look at you. “Oh, you’re gorgeous,” he said softly.
“Thanks. Do you, uh, have to lay eggs often?”
“No. It’s only triggered by… nesting.”
“Oh.” You knew you had thoughts about that, though now you were too full of eggs to form them properly. “I’m going to be so sore tomorrow,” you sighed. “Worth it, though.”
Indrid nuzzled your neck. “Thank you so much for being a good sport about this. But darling, it’s only ten o’clock in the morning. You’re going to be sore today.”