Havermouth, Present TimeAs suspected, Harry’s shopping trip had been extensive, and they’d filled a suitcase, still carrying its tags, with clothing for themselves and their werewolf. For a moment, Meguitte let that thought warm through her, the sweetness of Harry having someone that they cared for so thoughtfully, and then she helped herself to the clothing that she thought would fit Connery and that he wouldn’t find too horrendous – settling mostly for black, because she was certain Connery wasn’t the plaid sort.Her theft revealed some other items that Harry had put into the suitcase. Lube, and lots of it, condoms, an eye-mask, and rope. She put them back at the bottom and smothered her giggles as she returned to the room that she shared with Connery.“What reason would two supernatural people with penises, who are mates, have for condoms?” She remarked as she entered.Connery had wrapped his blanket around his waist for modesty and stood holding his pillow in his hands, his bewil

Havermouth, Present TimeConnery’s hand stroked a slow line up and down Meguitte’s back. His heartbeat under her cheek and the steady rise and fall of his chest had almost lulled her into a sleep. They had made love three times, intensely greedy lovemaking, exploring and tasting each other, growing bolder each time, discovering the way to touch each other.Just thinking of the sound of his moans at the height of pleasure made her body ache. His c-ck was still within her, and had not softened, and it felt good to be full of him, for him to be simply within her in such a way, just as it felt good to lay over him with his hands tracing the patterns of the scars on her back.“We have lived very full lives, Meguitte,” he said softly. “And there have been many dark moments in them.”“Yes,” her fingers traced the circle of his nipple. “You are wondering about the scars?”“No,” he rolled, taking her under him, and she moaned as the motion rocked his c-ck within her. “I have made it my busines

Estreau, Three Hundred Years Before“This is not living, this is dying slowly,” Thaelen complained to Sigrid as he steered the horseless carriage along the street, applying his horn when pedestrians on the road ignored his approach. They glared at him over their shoulders as they stepped up onto the sidewalk.The streets were filthy and stank of urine, the stone buildings grimed with the smoke that poured out of the factories to either side of the road. The road was crowded with people, dressed in faded colors, their shoulders slumped and their chins to their chests, shuffling their way to their shifts at the factories which ran twenty-four hours seven days a week.“Too many people, not enough land, not enough jobs, and the wealth held by a small percentage who only seek to increase what they have, and lives become meaningless, valueless,” Sigrid shook her head sorrowfully as they watched a group of young children cross to join the adults queuing to enter the factories. “And working c

New Estra, Three Hundred Years BeforeThaelen and Meguitte took one of the first boats from the ship to shore, taking with them only a backpack containing clothing and spare shoes, a flint and strike for starting a fire, and a rolled blanket for sleeping.They both wore trousers, something the Estreau colonists found shocking on Meguitte, many having been influenced by the church as to what was appropriate clothing and what was not. However, Meguitte’s clothing choice was sensible considering their mission and she was indifferent to their stares and pointing, no longer as frightened of humans as she once had been, after centuries of living amongst them.They both wore knives on their belts, and Thaelen had supplied Meguitte with a gun despite his dislike of them. In addition, he wore a machete, a bow and quiver of arrows, and wire for making traps. They would need to hunt to eat, something he had not done for centuries and did not look forward to. He hoped that the land had rabbits, a

New Estra, Three Hundred Years BeforeThaelen woke late into the morning when the attendants returned. They took him and Meguitte into a chamber where the walls were tiled in a manner that reminded him of the temple of Concordia’s rooms. A sunken bath heated by a hypocaustum system added to that impression. He averted his eyes as they were undressed, although when the attendants exclaimed over Meguitte, he glanced over to see what had caused their tone of amazement.They were reacting to the scars on her back, and she crossed her arms over her chest, flushing as she hurried to enter the water.His tattoo caused the same astonishment, this time combined with delight, with them tracing the runes on his skin. He realized that they could read what his skin said, and pointed to the runes with his fingers, exchanging his sounds for theirs.As he entered the water and submitted to them scrubbing him, he considered the differences. “I think I am beginning to understand some of the variance in