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A choked gasp fell from Stolas’ parted beak and brushed hotly past Blitz’s lips.
“Shh,” Blitz cooed, and—as he carded his fingers through Stolas’ soft head feathers—angled the tip of his boot upwards until Stolas’ hips stuttered. “You don’t want them to hear you, do ya?”
As if wanting to drive home Blitz’s words, the lively chatter coming from outside their dark, secluded nook ebbed momentarily, creating enough silence for Stolas’ sounds to be audible to anyone who might wander close to the thick red tapestry that stood between them and the Goetian party taking place in Stolas’ fancy parlor.
Then the moment passed, and the boisterous talking resumed, allowing Stolas to release the breath he’d been holding.
Amused, Blitz stroked Stolas’ ruffled face and brushed their mouths together to feel the owl’s hot pants against his lips. He inched back a moment later, though, when Stolas stilled in his movements and tried to kiss him properly. “I didn’t say you could stop moving, birdie,” he breathed.
A spark of white flashed within the deep red of Stolas’ eyes, and the owl readjusted his weight, shifting closer to Blitz. Then Stolas ground his hole against Blitz’s boot again, and the light edging in through the tapestry was just enough to highlight the outline of Stolas’ sprawled claws as they quivered and clenched.
Blitz bit his lip to hold back his own groan. Fuck, it didn’t matter how many times they did this sort of thing—Stolas’ submission took his breath away every fucking time.
“That’s it,” Blitz murmured, stroking the soft base of his head, “keep going, Stols. Nice and steady.”
Stolas gulped, and complied, pliant and perfectly responsive to Blitz’s every command.
As he waved his hips back and forth, Stolas worked hard to hold back the moans that wanted to spill from his parted beak. Still, Blitz could feel each soundless, ragged breath caressing his cheek as Stolas dragged his leaking hole across the length of his boot.
And though Blitz could barely make out the silhouette of the bird knelt before him, he could still picture Stolas’ naked body shaking as he got lost in sensation; his feathers puffing up with need, his cheeks reddening with the effort of keeping quiet as his pleasure built.
Another soundless gasp warmed the corner of Blitz’s mouth, sending a shiver of pleasure down to the spade of his tail. He cupped Stolas’ cheeks and pressed his own hot breaths to Stolas’ slackened mouth, letting their heated breaths mingle without allowing their mouths to slot together.
He’d barely felt the beginnings of a keening sound forming in Stolas’ throat when a few of the voices outside grew suddenly louder. It seemed like a group of those stuck-up fuckers had wandered close to their hiding spot. Their chatter was loud, and shrill, and Blitz’s dick ached in his pants with the way Stolas went perfectly quiet but kept up the pace.
Blitz inched the tip of his boot up again, and shook with need when he felt Stolas choke on his next unsteady breath.
Stolas’ hooded eyes lowered to Blitz’s devious smirk. Blitz knew Stolas would kiss him if he could; Blitz’s mouth was sure to help muffle the sounds the slutty owl was barely managing to hold back, after all. Alas, that was bound to be a challenging feat for the bird, with his arms tied behind his back and with only Blitz’s hands on him to help with balance as he thrust those perfect hips back and forth.
“B-B—” Stolas gasped, not vocalizing Blitz’s name but pleading with him all the same. His breath stuttered adorably as he drove his weight down.
“Shh,” Blitz soothed silently, pressing his frowned lips to Stolas’ beak to get the message across. He trailed a hand down to tug at the mess of feathers on Stolas’ chest, and reveled in the squawk Stolas forced himself not to let out.
“Speaking of which,” said a loud voice outside, just a few steps away from them, “have you heard about that new restaurant that opened last week in Pentagram City? It’s supposed to serve the most exclusive Earthly dishes.”
“Ugh, I have heard,” bemoaned another voice, “it’s all my husband ever talks about. I swear to fuck, I might as well have married a sinner with how much he loves all that Earth crap.”
They laughed, and changed topics, and all the while Stolas kept his undulating pace. He pushed his chest forward, urging Blitz to tug at his feathers, and Blitz did, pulling at them until Stolas shuddered and ground his beak.
Blitz inched closer, lips brushing Stolas’ cheek, and breathed, “You close?”
Stolas’ nod was curt, frantic, and Blitz tugged at his feathers again to both praise and encourage him. All Stolas could do in reply was lean his cheek against Blitz’s and thrust his hips faster, holding quiet even as he chased his release.
Unable to help himself, Blitz sought Stolas’ mouth again and poked his tongue out in teasing invitation. Stolas nipped at it before meeting it with his own, and Blitz let the tips of their tongues twine, tugging at each other, quivering with their muffled exhales.
When Stolas’ struggle to keep quiet grew, Blitz smirked—parted from the languid kiss—and snuck his tail between his legs, feeling blindly around the top of his boot.
Oh, fuck, the leather was hot. And drenched. But not nearly as drenched as the hole that drove forward and met the tip of his spade, clenching and leaking at the unexpected contact.
“A-Ah—” Stolas gasped, and his eyes widened with mortification when the sound reached his own ears. He faltered in his movements, but Blitz covered his mouth with a gloved hand and egged him on, angling his foot up and slotting the tip of his tail against Stolas’ pulsing hole.
He stroked Stolas’ neck, his shoulder and back, digging his fingers into warm feathers and skin to say, don’t stop. And Stolas didn’t—he pressed on, drooling all over Blitz’s palm as he rubbed himself off with everything he had.
The half-formed sounds that fell through the cracks of Blitz’s fingers grew in intensity and volume. It was only a matter of time before they were noticed, but Stolas was too far gone to care. His weight fell forward until their foreheads met and, just as the chatter outside died down again, Stolas finally broke, shuddering with his every thrust, shaking with release.
Blitz felt wetness coat his tail spade and throbbed in his pants, holding Stolas’ mouth shut and letting the bird ride out his high.
The voices outside picked up again.
“Did you hear that?” as Stolas pulsed and spilled all over Blitz’s tail and boot.
“Huh?” as Stolas choked on his spit and blinked quickly past his tears.
“I don’t know, I feel like I heard something. Coming from…”
Blitz didn’t need to tear his eyes away from Stolas to know there was a hand reaching towards the tapestry. The shadows shifted as the people outside drew nearer, but Stolas didn’t react, panting for breath as his cloaca clenched with the last echoes of his pleasure.
Then, just as long fingers curled around the thick red cloth, a glowing blue light flashed behind Blitz’s back.
Stolas lunged forward, and Blitz could only catch a glimpse of a dress before he was carried through the portal and pressed onto Stolas’ huge, familiar bed.
“Christ on a stick,” Blitz laughed when he managed to draw in air, voice rough from keeping quiet for so long. He crawled backwards until his horns met the sea of pillows at the head of the bed, and Stolas followed him, crawling on all fours and pushing up Blitz’s jumper and shirt. “That has to be one of the hottest things I’ve ever done.”
Stolas chuckled, but didn’t reply. His long-ass legs were sprawled all over the bed, the long expanse of his feathered body towering over Blitz. But it was the drenched feathers around Stolas’ crotch that Blitz zeroed in on, brain short-circuiting from the droolworthy sight as Stolas worked open his fly and took out his aching cock.
“Fuck, Stols,” Blitz gasped as Stolas stroked him with an expert hand. Then, when Stolas hoisted himself up and sank down on the full length of Blitz’s dick— “Shit, y—you’ve literally just come.”
Stolas smirked. “When has that ever stopped me?” he teased, and—fuck—began riding Blitz at an unrelenting pace.
“Ohhh fuck, that’s it,” Blitz groaned, grabbing Stolas by the hips and pushing up into his heat.
Stolas threw his head back and moaned. He let it all out—every single sound he’d held back, every cry, every gasp.
“Ahhh, Blitz, that’s—” he gulped. “Fuck, I need you to spill inside me, fill me up, spear me with your perfect cock—”
“Fucking hell.” Blitz sat up, pushing Stolas back until his claws were in the air and his feathered back was pressed against the bed. Hands still anchored to Stolas’ hips, Blitz knelt between the bird’s legs and thrust, making Stolas choke on a high, long moan. A moan that Blitz pressed his tail against, resting the tip on Stolas’ bottom lip.
“You know what to do,” he groaned, and shook with pleasure when Stolas took the spade in his mouth and licked it clean, moaning around the taste of his own slick.
And, fuck, now Blitz could see exactly what he was doing to Stolas; his feathers in complete disarray, his cheeks glowing with heat.
Blitz bit his lip and pushed Stolas’ thighs back, folding the bird in half so he could get a better view of his bottom half as well—his clenching claws suspended in the air, and his tight hole quivering and stretching with every thrust to welcome in the base of Blitz’s cock.
Stolas cried out around his tail, and Blitz tore his eyes from their fucking just in time to watch the owl’s features contort with pleasure as he clenched and spilled around Blitz’s dick.
“Fuckkk—” Blitz’s hips flew back and forth as he buried deep inside Stolas, and then stuttered as he tipped over the edge and filled Stolas with his release.
And because he knew the bird could come more than twice in a row, as soon as he pulled out Blitz crouched between those spread legs; first to watch their cum trickle out of Stolas’ still-clenching hole, and then to push it back in with his tongue, reaching deeper inside than he had with his cock.
He made Stolas come twice more before he decided to give them both a break, flopping onto the bed, boneless and bathed in sweat.
Stolas sighed, sprawling next to him. “I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he mumbled, running a hand down the curve of Blitz’s spine, “but I’m actually looking forward to the next Goetian party so we can do that again. That was incredible, as always, darling. You simply don’t disappoint.”
“Hmm. Oh, yeah?” Face pressed to the mattress, Blitz smirked to himself. Yeah, okay, he was tired, but this was the one night a month he had full, uncomplicated access to the bird’s holes, and Stolas always said his wife’s stupid parties went on until the crack of dawn.
So Blitz sat up, looking down at Stolas and stroking his stomach and chest. When Stolas met his gaze, Blitz gave his thick mass of chest feathers a pointed tug.
“Who says we have to wait till the next party?” he purred, loving the way Stolas’ eyes flashed with surprise. “I’m sure there are many other places in your fancy mansion where I can rock your world near those idiots’ unfucked holes.”
He’d barely finished the sentence when Stolas sprung up. “Really?” he asked, all excited and bouncy like he hadn’t just had four orgasms in a row. “You’re up for more tonight?”
Blitz shrugged. Gave Stolas a coy look, and ran his hand up the expanse of Stolas’ thigh. “Sure, birdie. There’s still plenty of night to go.”
He didn’t need to look to know there was already a portal floating behind his back.
“Aaah, let’s go, then!” Stolas squealed, fists clenching with excitement as he clambered off the bed and turned to look at Blitz, all excitement and unabashed horniness. “There’s a table that’s just high enough that you can put me on all fours and force your cock into me! Gosh, I want you to press my face against the floor and make me look at the guests’ feet under the tablecloth as you fill me with your seed…”
Blitz shook his head in mild dismay, feeling fondness for the horny owl despite himself.
Stolas smiled and reached down for Blitz’s hand before making for the portal, and, annoyingly, Blitz’s heart stirred with interest alongside his dick.
Luckily, a moment later they were huddled under a huge-ass table in the middle of the loud, frilly parlor, and all stupid thoughts of Stolas’ smile and squeezing hands were drowned in another round of quiet, messy fucking.