drear | 'cause my wheels never touch the road

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'cause my wheels never touch the road

In the living room of the charming suburban house they've been given to live in, He Ming is possibly more excited than he ever has been in a living room before. They had to move some of the furniture out of the way to make room. The rug's been rolled up and set aside. Like a bat, Cehd'ra said, and He Ming wonders if it'll be bigger, smaller, or a different color than a bat he's seen before. A bat from another world must be different.

"I'm ready!" he says, before going to perch on the arm of the sofa against one wall of the room. "Go ahead."

He's never seen magic before—at least not this kind of magic—so when the spell begins to diverge from normal, he has no idea. He Ming simply blinks in surprise when the summoning finishes and he sees in the center of the circle a being that's over twice his size with a bulky central body and dozens of teeming, squirming tentacles extending from it that are already beginning to spread out and feel around for its bearings.

"That doesn't... look like a bat."

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In Cehd'ra's defense, he's never actually tried this specific technique before. The principle is the same, using his hands to perform specific gestures, meant to channel the aether and summon and bind an entity to do his bidding. Normally he binds their energy into the form of an element: a flash of fire or a bolt of lightning, but he knows it's possible to create more complicated things that also last longer. The first time he'd seen it done it had been a bat meant for scouting. That's what he'd intended to try for He Ming...and it looks to be going perfectly normally to Cehd'ra at least, a circular pattern of red dots forming on the ground, a visual indicator of the magic at work, a flash of light and smoke and...

"...it does not, no," Cehd'ra agrees, arms lowering and back straightening. Behind him his tail twitches as he looks the thing over. It's large enough to take up the entire space of the circle and beyond, multiple limbs inching along the wooden floor and glistening with mucus... Something about it makes the fur on his tail puff up and his ears draw back even though it hasn't done anything threatening yet. Cehd'ra's not even sure it's noticed them.

"I cannot say what went wrong," he says, starting to edge towards He Ming. The movement is what gets a reaction, the tentacles pausing and then redirecting their creeping towards the source of those footsteps. That doesn't look good at all. "We should leave."

Cehd'ra reaches a hand out to He Ming, beckoning. The thing doesn't look very fast, they'll be able to reach the door and wait for the magic to run its course. Although, the bats he'd seen before, he'd physically destroyed to be rid of them so he isn't sure how long that will take. Still, best to wait it out beyond it's reach, he thinks.

Far from looking like a bat, the creature actually looks a lot more like the kind of opponents He Ming's seen. Not from the inside of his unit, since it's so small, but the way the tough yet flexible skin moves over an utterly inhuman body is familiar.

"Hm, you don't think we should try and send it back?" He Ming is eyeing it. He almost wants to take a picture; it's so strange and out of place in the living room.

Cehd'ra's discomfort is so obvious, though, that He Ming doesn't ignore it. He starts following his lead to the door. But when he walks over to close the distance between them, his footsteps vibrate through the floor. The creature turns its bulk towards them, sticky mucus stretching between its limbs and the floor.

Maybe they really should leave. He Ming is turning to Cehd'ra to say just that when the creature moves again, this time much faster than its size and form would suggest. Lithe tentacles dart out over the floor, searching and seeking until they reach Cehd'ra's foot. It explores his ankle for barely a fraction of a second before wrapping around it and pulling hard.

"I...I fear I am not sure how," Cehd'ra confesses. The way he uses magic has always been instinctive, to have those instincts turn out wrong is more than a little jarring. Still, something to worry about outside the house.

Cehd'ra reacts to the sudden movement from the creature without thinking, bodily putting his hands on He Ming and pushing him away. If the thing tries to hurt them it will find Cehd'ra first, giving the other a chance to run. Yet Cehd'ra's underestimated just how fast the thing can be, his ankle yanked out from under him and dropping him to the floor. In that same moment more tentacles search the air, twisting and wrapping themselves around the first things they hit...which happen to be He Ming.

It finds his arms and chest, winding around both and pulling him with the same strength it has hold of Cehd'ra with, lifting him off the floor. Cehd'ra meanwhile puts up his own struggle, scrambling to stop himself from being pulled back while cursing himself for not having a dagger on him.

When Cehd'ra is pulled away and pushes him away at the same time, He Ming is almost knocked off-balance in surprise. He shouts for him, grabs after his arm, and fails to even grasp his wrist as he's lifted off the floor.

"Cehd'ra—" Calling out, He Ming keeps trying to reach for him even as his feet leave the ground. Struggling in the grip of the strange creature's appendages, he realizes quickly that its strength is much greater than his own. "I can't get to you!"

The tentacles around Cehd'ra's leg squirm up higher, wrapping around his knee and thigh. The wetness of it starts to soak through his clothes immediately. Another appendage comes to curl around his shoulders and neck.

Cehd'ra is trying not to panic, a task that spikes in difficulty when one of those tendrils finds his neck. Giving up on his attempts to free his leg Cehd'ra immediately grabs at the tentacle and attempts to pull it off his throat. His fingers barely dent the skin let alone budge it and he can't even get a true grip on the thing to begin with, the slime making his hands slip. Struggling puts him on his back, one leg lifted up as the first tentacle continues to coil around and upwards, the slime cold as it soaks through to his skin...he can see He Ming now, the human held dangling above him just beyond his reach.

"Don't you dare hurt him--!"

The thing can feel the vibrations of their voices, the struggles they make, drawing the sources closer to its center while a few other tentacles search about to make sure they are the only ones. Finding no other warm, moving targets its focus falls entirely on the pair. He Ming is felt over, arms and legs found and held, pulled until it feels resistance...and then given some slack. Heavy coils hold his limbs with an easy strength while smaller ones reach out, roaming over He Mings clothes and finding the fabric gives way to skin, one in particular finds a gap at the bottom of He Ming's shirt and explores underneath it, sweeping over his chest and climbing higher.

Skin is good, it knows skin...this scratchy not-skin they're covered with will have go to.

As his arms and legs are pulled, He Ming yelps, more from surprise than pain. It doesn't actually hurt that much, and he's wondering again what this creature wants from them. It doesn't seem to plan on eating them. As sticky, slick tentacles slip under the hem of his shirt and over his belly, his fruitless struggles slow down. He can barely even move his hands.

"I'm okay," he calls out. Even though being held up is strange, he's not in pain and he wants to reassure Cehd'ra that at least for now, it's only weird and not too bad. "It's not hurting me. Are you okay?"

From this angle, it's hard for He Ming to see exactly what's going on with Cehd'ra. He can't see the tentacles gliding over Cehd'ra's neck and up to stroke his face, curious, and almost gentle. It can feel the rhythm of respiration and moves in to explore it with the pointed tip of one appendage.

That yelp prompts Cehd'ra into letting go, hands coming together to form another gesture. Attacking the monster this close is risky...but the sound of He Ming's voice makes him hesitate, letting the magic dissipate. He isn't being hurt, at least not yet, and now that Cehd'ra lets himself be still for a moment he realizes the same thing. The monster could be hurting them quite easily, and while he's not happy about being grabbed and pinned to the floor the tentacles aren't doing anything more than holding them.

"...yes," he answers, frowning and turning his face away from the tendril smearing slime over his cheek. The useless struggle has left him panting and while he doesn't relax in the thing's grip he at least remains mostly still. "It--ngah?"

The tip of a tentacle hooks itself in the corner of his open mouth, tugging at his cheek and darting past his teeth before he can clench them shut. Cehd'ra flinches, bracing himself for something foul...instead the mucus tastes unexpectedly clean. A little salty, like...

Well, it doesn't taste horrible, but Cehd'ra still doesn't think he wants it in his mouth and shakes his head, reaching to try and pull it away. Meanwhile He Ming's shirt is stretched and pulled at, the tip of that tendril finding the collar and peeking out, flicking back and forth along He Ming's neck before curling away to grip the cloth instead. The monster seems to be thinking, tugging He Ming's shirt first one way and then another, stopping whenever it feels too much resistance to try a new angle. Eventually it figures out up, lifting He Ming's shirt up over his head before letting go, the fabric now bunched behind his shoulders.

That's a rather odd way for Cehd'ra's voice to be cut off. He Ming cranes his neck in an attempt to see, and fails. He just wishes he could get a look at Cehd'ra to make sure he's all right. Then he wouldn't be so uncomfortable.

Being let go of would also be helpful on that front, but He Ming doesn't think that's about to happen any time soon. He can feel the pulse of some kind of heartbeat through the creature's relatively pliable skin, and as it keeps tight hold of him, he can only manage a few more futile wiggles. He can't even keep his shirt down.

"Cehd'ra?" he calls out. "I still can't see you—all these tentacles are blocking you. What's going on?"

Unfortunately it's unlikely Cehd'ra will be able to respond, as the tendril between his teeth rubs firmly over his tongue and then promptly explores deeper, pushing to the back of his throat. It's having a harder time finding the gaps in his clothing, but eventually one slips into one of the legs of his pants and begins the difficult trek upwards.

"Mmmn--ngk!" Cehd'ra can make some noise, muffled around the tentacle gagging him. The panic starts to bubble up again as it presses deeper, the pointed tip of it brushing the back of his throat and making him gag in surprise. Meanwhile the one leg that had remained free is subjected to another cold brush over his ankle, this time the tentacle working under the clothes instead of over. Jerking his leg back does nothing, he can only pull back so far and it's too easy for the thing to follow, wedging the tendril between cloth and skin.

What the thing wants with them is still a mystery but more and more Cehd'ra fears it won't be good. All he can do is squirm and make muffled protests, looking up helplessly, watching He Ming try to see...and not wholly sure he wants to be seen.

He Ming feels off balance in the creature's grip, held upright as he is most of his weight is held by his arms...the thing twists He Ming about until it has him suspended horizontally. Now the weight feels better and with that mild distraction handled it goes back to finding ways under the man's clothing. The easiest spot from here is still around He Ming's middle, a tentacle squirming down the back of his pants, testing and poking about.

Being rotated backwards sends another wave of disorientation through his body. He Ming feels dizzy for a few seconds, and he swallows hard while trying to keep his head from spinning. The slick wet press of more tentacles creeping under his clothing doesn't really help. And Cehd'ra isn't replying, and he worries even as he gasps on his next breath. The tentacle down the back of his pants is going—

"Ah!" That's not very nice, nor appropriate. He Ming tries again to wriggle free, and the whole thing is so ridiculous and ticklish he can't help but laugh breathlessly. "Oh, don't—Cehd'ra, I don't—ohh, I don't think it's trying to hurt me."

He couldn't say the same for Cehd'ra, since he can't see him, but if the exploratory and firm contact between his legs is any indication, this creature has more carnal things in mind than violent. When he finally manages to turn enough to catch sight of him he sees the tentacles finding their way under Cehd'ra's clothes as well. As He Ming looks, the one causing him to gag only stays where it is for a moment longer before withdrawing. His pants leg appears to bulge oddly from the other appendage tunneling upwards, writhing against his calf and then his thigh and groin. There the slender tapered tip of the tentacle curls around what the creature appears to recognize as more vital, possibly delicate organs, the wet mucus starting to soak through his underwear and his pants at the same time.

Cehd'ra can see He Ming perfectly well. He's able to watch the creature holding him aloft with thick coils winding all the way past his knees and elbows, plus one more squirming down his pants and giving what Cehd'ra would swear is an excited wiggle at what it finds. It's weird but He Ming's laughing reaction and quick reassurances that he isn't being hurt makes his stomach do a familiar flip. He should not find this arousing, there's nothing appealing about it at all--

Suddenly the reason for the tentacle climbing up his pant leg clicked, becoming alarming in a whole new way.

"Mmmph! Mm--aah!" Cehd'ra lets out a cough as the tentacle leaves his mouth, slime dripping over his cheek. In that same moment the creature reached its destination, causing Cehd'ra's back to arch as it paused, fondling and this should not feel good. "Gods, He Ming I--I am so...ngh!"

It's impossible to say for sure what sorts of emotions the thing has, let alone recognize them, but there's a definite eagerness to it now. The tentacle exploring He Ming settles, pressing between his cheeks and the give of his hole. It only tests for now, squirming past He Ming's underwear, probing with the tapered tip and backing off whenever it meets with too much resistance. Another dangles down He Ming from above, sliding down his chest and squirming it's way down the man's pants from the front, quickly confirming that Cehd'ra and He Ming are in fact built the same way. For science.

"So&mdash?" He Ming breathes out hard and high, voice raising again in almost a shout when the tentacle curls down the back of his underwear and prods at his asshole. Is that really what this strange creature wants? After being summoned, maybe it just follows its simplest desires.

It's a good thing those desires aren't hostile, because He Ming can tell he wouldn't be able to overpower it at all. Cehd'ra doesn't look seem like he'd be able to fight it off either.

While he is uncomfortable, He Ming isn't really scared. He doesn't think they're in much danger after all. That's a good thing. So, he should focus on what's good... right? And oh, the wet, firm touch of one of the tentacles down the front of his pants does feel good.

"It's touching me. Oh, it's really touching me." Feeling almost tickled, a slightly nervous giggle comes out of him. By this point it seems that the creature has realized that their panic decreases when they're closer together, and it lowers He Ming towards Cehd'ra. As it does, it also manages to get under his underwear to touch his cock proper. His balls get felt up with the same exploratory enthusiasm.

Its final destination, however, ends up being Cehd'ra's entrance. The tentacles strain again, making the fabric protest again, more weakly, as seams begin to tear. The tip of one of the appendages tugs at the edge of his hole, the force only slightly eased by the alien slick of it.

Technically Cehd'ra might be able to fight it off. The creature still hasn't grabbed his hands, choosing instead to hold his legs aloft and keep him pinned to the floor by his shoulders. He can't reach far, not even for He Ming as he's lowered closer, but he could still gesture and try to weave his magic into another summoning. The risk of hitting He Ming as well keeps him from trying...though the dexterity of that tentacle curled around his prick is steadily becoming a second reason. It feels sort of like a tongue, save that there's no tongue that long or that strong, making the threads of his pants pop as it probes his hole the same way it did his mouth.

"S-so...mnh! 'Don't know any more...He Ming...is it doing the same to you?" It looks like it, Cehd'ra torn between watching the bulge those tendrils make under He Ming's clothes and the sudden tug at tight muscle. The miqo'te jolts, yelping as that does hurt a little. Cehd'ra reaches down, hands shaking as they all but rip the soaked front of his trousers open, needing to do something to ease that force.

The thing notices a change, the fabric loosening and with a ripple it forces that give to a breaking point. With a ripping sound the seam of Cehd'ra's pants leg tears open from ankle to crotch, leaving him far more exposed. There's a pause for He Ming then this new information is processed, then the two tentacles hook and pull down He Ming's own pants. It lets his lower-half reach the floor near Cehd'ra, releasing his legs go as it tugs the fabric free. He isn't left bereft, the tentacles holding his arms sliding further, brushing past his neck and down his chest. They pause, rubbing over the different texture of his nipples before sending slimmer tendrils down to investigate.

The run of tentacles along his shaft as it begins to harden is stunning, nearly, in how good it feels. The sensation is uncomplicated and the most simple of pleasures.

He Ming, of course, loves it. He continues to watch Cehd'ra, attention continually attracted back to him. His brow occasionally furrows, both whenever he sees Cehd'ra's expression change and whenever he feels a tentacle do something particularly innovative. He can't seem to focus on any particular factor at any time. Particularly not when his pants are tugged down and his sticky, slick skin is exposed to cool air.

Now Cehd'ra can see his erection. He Ming would be more embarrassed if he couldn't see that Cehd'ra is experiencing a similar response. "I'm okay," he manages to say in response. "I... nn." Biting his lip, He Ming shudders, feeling his nipples harden.

"I don't know what to do. I can't get it off. But... you feel good, right?" He can see that. He Ming lets out a sigh as his knees finally touch the ground, though his arms are still forced back while the creature continues to explore his chest. "So it's okay."

He Ming is fine with it, in any case. His gaze is becoming hazy and unfocused, teeth digging into his lip while he watches the tentacles wrap around Cehd'ra's bared thigh and pull it to the side. The tips of the other tendrils press insistently at the rim of his exposed hole, until a stubborn one finds its way in.

Feeling the skin change and the shudder in He Ming's breath is signal enough for the creature. Long and slender tentacles curl around each nipple, tugging only to slip free, returning to press instead and flick over the hardened nubs. More, heavier tentacles slither over He Ming's feet and calves, anchoring him to the floor before gliding up the inside of his thighs. One for his hole, seeking out and circling the rim before twisting itself inside. Another trails along his taint, pressing behind He Ming's sack before curling around the base of it, tugging curiously. And one more for his cock again, once more wrapping around and squeezing in a slow rhythm from the hilt to the head. He Ming's easier acceptance of their fate may have something to do with his gentler treatment from the creature though it's impossible to be sure.

"Okay?" Cehd'ra nearly squeaks. It shouldn't be okay. This isn't what Cehd'ra was trying to summon at all and if he'd known this would happen he'd never have tried it. It shouldn't feel good either and yet that's something Cehd'ra can't as easily dispute. He's gotten hard in the tentacles' grip in spite of the stinging stretch and near frantic attempts to penetrate him. Still is as he feels one leg pulled back, allowing for more of the things to swarm him, until one finally...

"Gah!" Cehd'ra's head falls back, fangs bared. The tapered tip and slimy skin makes it easy to slither inside once the first breach is made, Cehd'ra's eyes opening wide. He can feel it wriggling, again like a tongue but more, and his breath catches as it presses in deeper.

He Ming submits, or at least lets the creature take the lead in whatever strange coupling this might qualify as. With his chest being relentlessly teased he only gasps, head falling forward, a deep and resonant moan in his chest.

"I'm okay," he says again, even less coherently this time. "Oh. Hah, don't you feel it?"

He can hear it, too, so he listens. He Ming can follow the train of thought if not the details, his senses expansive enough to gather them from a strange creature from another world. When he speaks, this time it's to the creature.

"That really feels good. If you, mm, go inside... be gentler." For both him and Cehd'ra. He Ming's eyes close as the tentacles pump his balls, a sensation he's not accustomed to. To feel one enter him is almost easier to adjust to. Perhaps in response to He Ming's moans, or perhaps just working on instinct, the creature slows its penetration of Cehd'ra. The tentacle entering him pauses and pulses where it is until his breathing becomes even once more. Then it flexes and slides in another inch.

The moan resonates from He Ming's chest, spreading out and along his skin, picked up by the creature as one long, low vibration. The tentacles holding and teasing He Ming shiver in unison all over his body, mimicking the hum in answer. It's listening.

Cehd'ra watches, stunned for a moment, as the thing actually seems to hear what He Ming has to say. The miqo'te has his own gift that lets him communicate through any language barrier...or at least that's what he thought. However the creature 'speaks' it's too alien for the Echo to let him understand...or maybe he simply isn't listening closely enough? Whether he can talk to it the way He Ming seems able to or not, it's clear that calm is the better approach to take.

"Hnn..." His eyes grow heavy as the tentacle inside him goes easier on him, the gentler flexing as it simply moves where it is falling further on the side of pleasurable than painful. With a pitched groan Cehd'ra surrenders, making himself relax and allowing it to push deeper inside. Deep enough for that pulsing to brush over his prostate, triggering a more familiar moan as he finally lets to of the tentacles holding him and instead reaches out, fingertips just able to reach He Ming's thigh.

"Can you...can you really talk to it...?"

There's only one topic the thing is interested in. Feeling Cehd'ra's struggling come to an end it shows it's gratitude with another shiver over He Ming, sliding further into his hole before withdrawing, starting to pump in and out. The slime it exudes spreads, easing the passage as the thing works on stretching He Ming for more.

"Mm, a little." He Ming's mind, at least, hears its voice. The tentacles curled around him hold him in place, firm and slick and wonderfully strange. The pleasure washes over him in waves. When Cehd'ra's fingers reach him, the warmth actually makes He Ming shiver, it's such a contrast to the cool wetness of the creature's touch.

"It's pretty big." The additional slick is enough to get him open, relaxed, and let it fill him with more and more girth. Licking his lips and looking down, He Ming is finally able to get a better look at Cehd'ra as the creature begins to penetrate him as well. "I can see it fucking you. That's—hot."

He's really never had a filter, and now is no exception. He Ming lets out a deep, breathless moan, the only thing that keeps him from talking, and watches the tentacle inside of Cehd'ra pulse and rotate left and right, the tip inside him curling and rubbing against his inner passage.

The follow-up question of 'can you tell it to let us go' never makes it to Cehd'ra's lips. Instead he chokes on his next breath and cries out, the twisting tentacle inside him kicking up like nothing he's ever felt before. Better than anything he's felt before. His cock twitches, clear pre dripping from the tip and mixing with the creature's slime as the flexible tendril inside misses nothing. "Ahh! He Ming it...its--!"

It's good. Cehd'ra's toes curl and his fingers tremble where they brush against the other's skin. He might come from this. He will come from this if it keeps going.

How Cehd'ra responds seems to influence what the creature tries with He Ming and vice versa. The trickle from the tip of Cehd'ra's cock is sought out on He Ming, the tentacle that had only been squeezing his cock now swirling over the head, polishing and teasing at his slit. The tentacle inside him still seeing how deep it can reach so it's instead joined by another, thinner one. It flicks over He Ming's ring of muscle before working its way inside, twisting and curling, honing in on his prostate as well.

His cock is so hard. So hard. Cehd'ra's voice is near enough that it spurs him on even more, audible over his pulse pounding in his ears as the thick tentacle fucking him plunges deeper on every thrust. It presses against his stomach from the inside. He feels immensely full already, and when a second tendril joins it, He Ming gives a full-body shudder and sags forward, overwhelmed, but still looking at Cehd'ra through his lashes.

"You're so hard." He Ming inhales shakily, eyelids fluttering as his own dick twitches and he leaks enough precum for the creature to pick up and swipe over his slit. The pointed tip of the tentacle is almost too intent, and He Ming squirms with a soft whine. "I want to... suck you off too."

The creature pauses, stilling its sinuous movements. Then the tentacle inside of Cehd'ra curls almost in half, coiling inside of him to a thicker girth. He Ming is lowered slowly until he can set his knees firmly on the ground. The creature must have heard him, or understood some of his statement. Even with his arms still pinned to his sides, He Ming can shuffle forward and bow his head over Cehd'ra's groin. Something of the slickness and feeling of being completely surrounded by unknown contact is driving He Ming to an even higher level of excitement. He licks his lips, and bends down to press a sloppy kiss to Cehd'ra's shaft between the tentacles.

Those pauses are quickly becoming warning signs for Cehd'ra. He gulps down air in the brief space given, blinking up at He Ming as it honestly takes him a moment to figure out what the words he's saying mean. The creature almost figures it out first, but Cehd'ra manages a nod before it moves again. It's all so much but yes, more, and a normal sort of more too makes it all the more appealing. He Ming's so good with his mouth--

"Haa!" The pause ends with a sudden spike of pressure, the folding tentacle doubling back and it isn't so deep but gods he's so full, the thickness, almost a knot inside him, all Cehd'ra can do is squirm and wail under both the creature and He Ming. That and come. It's like a blow to the gut it happens so fast, the miqo'te's body curling in on itself before the tentacles draw him back out, cock twitching and spilling onto his stomach near He Ming's lips.

Yes, keeping the two close is much better.

The creature is seeking out He Ming's limits, squirming inside until it can go no further, shifting about to the point where Cehd'ra could see the other's belly bulging if he took the chance to look. It gives He Ming a few more exploratory thrusts, just to be sure, before all of a sudden drawing back with a long, sloppy noise. It focuses on his hole instead, circling and thrusting shallow now, working itself around and around, needing He Ming as open as possible and then some.

Being fucked from behind on his knees with his arms trapped, He Ming feels overwhelmed, almost, unable to move his body of his own will. All he can comprehend is the sensation of being thoroughly penetrated and the taste and feel of Cehd'ra on his tongue. His skin is wonderfully warm. Flattening his tongue, He Ming laps at the release with his eyes falling shut. Ah, the creature is so deep inside of him, filling him up so much, like it's going to burst out of his stomach.

Somehow that doesn't turn him off at all. Instead He Ming rolls his hips back, back arching to put his ass up higher. When so abruptly emptied, He Ming's eyes squeeze shut and he yelps, clawing at the tentacles for a moment before being distracted by returned sensation of thrusting. His body feels empty, and his ass is being fucked so, so open.

"Cehd'ra..." He Ming moans and latches his mouth onto one side of his hip, kissing and sucking at the skin until it reddens under his attention. His voice is almost a whine as he slumps further down, only held up by the grip of the creature. "It feels, mm, it keeps opening me more and more. It's going to put something big in me. Do you feel it, Cehd'ra?"

Even if he may not be thinking of it consciously, Cehd'ra will certainly feel the tentacle turn around inside of him. Another is pulling at the rim of his hole, forcing him further open with continual thrusts and movements.

Finally there's more of He Ming that Cehd'ra can reach with the man down near his hips. Fingers brush through He Ming's hair, leaving bits of mucus behind from where he'd been grappling with the tentacles earlier, but after his first climax Cehd'ra's slipping too far to care. All his body is telling him is how well he's being fucked, the tentacle turning again while another traces along the edge, a tease in comparison. Adding to that the sweep of He Ming's tongue and scrape of his teeth, the ragged sound of his voice reaching his ears, sounding even hungrier for it than Cehd'ra feels...

"Whatsit, what's it want?" Cehd'ra whimpers, struggling to focus. He can see the squirming limbs behind He Ming's hips, the one tentacle joined by another and then a third, though the angle doesn't let him see what exactly they're doing.

The tips of those tentacles hook into He Ming's hole, tugging him open and holding a moment while a slimmer one reaches in and wriggles about in the opening. Finally the thing seems satisfied with whatever it was checking for and He Ming is shifted once again, this time simply turned to bring his hips closer to the central mass.

"He Ming, it...there's more?" Cehd'ra isn't sure what he's seeing but it must be the 'something big' He Ming was guessing at. The tendrils shift and make way, opening up to reveal a new tentacle that's certainly bigger but it seems delicate somehow, the skin almost translucent with a pulsing opening at the end rather than the thin taper. It nudges against He Ming's hole and even with all the prep it's going to be a tight fit...

"It wants..." What does it want from them? He Ming licks his lips, letting his head loll down as he listens to a voice that isn't really a voice.

It has a simple desire that almost every living thing shares. He Ming understands. Without a word he nods, shifting to raise his hips further up. Breathy moans leave his mouth as he settles, whimpering at the pull of pointed tentacles at the rim of his ass.

"It's going in. It's, mm, putting its eggs into me." The words come out without hesitation now that He Ming knows. He's happy to help anyone who needs it. Or anything. He moves to rest his cheek on Cehd'ra's side, snuggling against him as the tentacle stuffing itself into his ass forces its way in.

"It's really big. Cehd'ra, are you ready?"

Tentacles begin to push Cehd'ra's legs apart, opening up his thighs.

"It--what?"

Cehd'ra blinks and blinks again, the absurdity of He Ming's answer causing his thoughts to skip and scatter. He watches that new tentacle arching up as it pushes into He Ming, the skin of it glistening as it moves deeper. More of the creature's limbs curl around He Ming's upper thighs and hips, holding him aloft and open just as Cehd'ra feels them doing the same to him.

"It can't." It shouldn't be possible but Cehd'ra can see it clearly: a round shape sliding down the tentacle, the bulge of it smoothly gliding down until it stops, now flush against He Ming's hole. Cehd'ra reaches, clinging to He Ming as if he could pull him away from the thing but for all his strength there's no getting either of them out of this by now.

The ovipositor twists one way then another, working the first egg back and forth with agonizing care to get it inside of the warm, safe place He Ming is so selflessly providing.

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'cause my wheels never touch the road

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