I should be getting a full frontal. A complete view of his family jewels. But there’s nothing but scales, more iridescent scales.
Dalox doesn’t have any junk. Nothing. He might have talked the talk about mates and breeding, but it doesn’t appear he has the equipment.
So how would he do it?
My mind goes wild for a minute, during which Dalox is floating ahead of me in the deeper part of the pool.
I’m not sure what to say, or even if I can trust my brain, so I squeak out ahi.
“Little mate,” Dalox rumbles.
I’m still not quite used to the way he says it, knowing it means something very different to him.
“I have primed the aquium with the minerals I require,” he says, lifting his legs up and slowly spinning around. There’s a splash as his tail puts in a brief appearance, the spines he talked about in very clear evidence. “And you are still clothed.” His eyes are wide.
“Yes, Dalox. I am still clothed. This is not something which requires a lack of clothing for me.”
He cocks his head on one side. “Then we should get started.”
And why does that send a spike of desire right up my spine?
GILLIAN
Iprobably haven’t really thought this through. At some point, I’m going to have to touch Dalox. Also at some point, I’m going to have to get out of these wet clothes.
Not that it means I have much in the way of regrets. Being naked with Dalox would be a mistake.
This is the massive alien dragon man who is presently swimming away from me on his back, and I’m pretty sure I can see wings in the water. He’s also making himself into a…well a Sarkarnii fountain, spitting water into the air.
Turns out males are males wherever you are in the universe. And they never actually grow up either.
I slide down the slope and into the deeper part of the pool. The warm water envelopes me in a steamy embrace.
I will admit, I am slightly regretting being clothed. This situation would be infinitely improved with a costume…or nothing at all, like Dalox.
As I lose touch with the floor and have to tread water, I swim towards the rear of the pool. I guess it’s around about half Olympic size in total, although the shape of it is irregular. I’d like to see what’s at the far end.
With no Dalox in sight, I do a brisk breast stroke to my final destination. There’s no ramp here, only water dark below me, although as I look around the edge, I spot a depression in the wall, which almost looks like a seat underneath the surface.
Additionally, I see there are items ranged around the side of the pool, items which almost look like instruments of torture. Metal hooks, things which look like sickles, combs made with spikes. None of it looks good, and now I’m a long way from the entrance.
I kick my legs, putting my hands on the side in order to pull myself out of the water, when something tugs on my foot.
I kick again, this time harder, at the thing which has me.
“Perfectly placed, little spark,” Dalox rumbles in my ear. “And I have soaked enough.”
A hand reaches past me and takes hold of one of the metal hooks.
I spin around in the water to face him.
“What are you doing?” I glare at him.
But I am out of my element. I can fight, but not here. I have let my guard down around this male, and I am going to pay for it.
“My shed is tough,” Dalox says, his tail lashing through the water, and I feel the eddies against my legs, making the fabric of the jumpsuit ripple.
He lifts his hair to one side and slides the spike down the back of his neck. I hear a distinct crack.
