“Uh-huh.” Seymour sighed. “Guess I got what I deserved, huh?”
“Yes. Are you ready for more?”
“More punishment?”
“No, more sexual relations.” Sariel glanced over himself, suddenly shy as he added, “That is, if you want to continue.”
“Oh, that’s a big ten-four.” Seymour sat up with a grin so he could kiss Sariel’s glowing cheek. “That means yes.”
Sariel’s brow wrinkled up, but he nodded. “Thank you for clarifying.”
“Could I…” Seymour looked at Sariel’s exposed golden flesh. “May I touch you?”
“Of course.” Sariel blinked—that is, all of his eyes blinked together, though a few were slower than the rest. “You truly desire to?”
“Yeah, why not? It’s still you, ain’t it?” Seymour shrugged. “Just kinda wormy.”
“I am not wormy.”
“You’re a lil’ wormy.” Seymour chuckled, tracing one of the long lines of slithering muscle. “But I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”
Sariel closed his eyes, tensing as Seymour explored.
Seymour had expected the flesh to feel wet, or perhaps slimy, but he found it smooth and soft like velvet. It was hot, and Seymour assumed Sariel’s feverish temperature was the result of his natural form bleeding through his human disguise.
Sariel remained posed as still as a statue, his many eyes firmly shut.
Seymour slid his fingers under the edge of Sariel’s skin, seeking to feel more of the soft muscle. The skin peeled back and cracked like the shell of an egg, and he gasped. “Shit. Did I hurt you?”
“No,” Sariel whispered. “It does not hurt.”
Seymour wasn’t so sure, and he returned to only caressing the exposed flesh. He kissed Sariel’s golden cheek. “You know, you’re really not so scary.”
A few of Sariel’s body-eyes opened.
“All this talk ’bout needin’ a safe word.” Seymour grinned. “You’re just a big, glowy, angelic Chia Pet.”
“A what?” Now all of Sariel’s eyes opened, and his brow wrinkled up.
“It’s a good thing. Trust me.” Seymour let his hand move lower now, palming over Sariel’s chest and then to his stomach. Lower still he went until he stopped just above Sariel’s cock.
He wasn’t hard.
“You, uh, okay?” Seymour asked softly.
“Yes, of course.” Sariel glanced down. “Ah, that is not… mine.”
“Part of your disguise?”
“Yes.”
“So, you have somethin’ else you’re plannin’ to stick in me?”
“Yes.”
Seymour waited expectantly.
Sariel tilted his head.
