"Yearnings" - (c)Sabrewing 1997
Don't distribute without permission, examples of male-male interspecies unions within, blah blah blah . . .

Why he had wanted to be the one who would give Fyr his message, he really didn't know. As Ark walked through the quiet woods, he kept thinking over and over again why he had chosen this mission. It seemed such a dangerous and frightening one, but he had been the first to volunteer. Maybe, he thought, it was because he wanted to prove his bravery to the rest of the king's men. After all, he had been the last cadet to make it all the way to the squire level. He wanted to show he was just as dedicated and loyal as the next cadet. The best way to do that was with a particularly dreadful assignment, but this was, perhaps, over his head.

He continued to walk, the sun glistening in the treetops overhead. He was scared, deep down inside, but his pride would not allow him to turn back. What scared him the most was the lecture he'd gotten from the king's most trusted knight, Sir Edmund, before he had departed:

"Ark Hewland, my young man, you have volunteered your services to this most risky duty. You must cross through the Newlyn Wood to the lair of Fyr, our guardian dragon, and tell him that his services are soon to be needed if we are to win against the realm of Gafgar. Beware, however, as he can be quite fickle, and if he does not tolerate your presence, he will attack. If such an event occurs, you could well be killed. Are you sure you wish to go on with this?"
He had readily agreed. Now, here he was, walking through a dense forest with a message in his mind and a thousand screams ready to burst from his throat. However, his feet would not be deterred in their journey, and he walked on. Then, he realized it.

He wanted to see Fyr.

Yes, that was it. He wanted to see Fyr. He had certainly seen dragons in art and heard of them in folklore growing up, but he had never seen a dragon, and he would be damned if he died before he saw one. This way, he would either see one and live to tell about it, or he would die as he saw one----
He pushed that morbid thought from his mind, but he knew it was true. He wanted to see Fyr. Dragons had always intrigued him, and he had made many models from clay which he had put around his playroom as a child. In fact, for his 12th birthday, his father had gone to the artisan and had a dragon sculpture specially made for him. He had gladly put it in the backyard, where it now overhung a small garden of, appropriately enough, snapdragons.
It was almost dark when he reached the large, granite cave that was Fyr's lair. He stood outside, legs quivering under his tunic as he listened to the doves crooning in the sunset. He slowly collected himself, took a deep breath, and stepped inside.
Oddly, there was a light in the cave as he stepped further inside. He took three steps in, stopped again to plan his speech, and took barely another step when a voice boomed from the source of light. The nearby stalagmites gave off faint sparkles as the light from the interior of the cave flickered over them.

"Are you Ark Hewland, messenger of King Roschan?!?"

"Uh . . . umm, yes, sir. I am he."

"Well, give your message and be done with it."

"Oh-oh-oh, yes, sir." He cleared his throat and started to speak.

"Not in the doorway; come in and sit by the fire."

He was almost shocked by the sudden hospitality of the voice. He wondered for a second if it was perhaps a trick to get himself eaten, but the sincerity in the voice convinced him that it was meant in earnest, and he walked further into the cave.
The interior of the cave was unlike anything he had seen in books or pictures. In the middle, on a rug of alternating gold and silver patterns, was a large bench with a great red cushion that looked worn with years of use. The source of the light was a great fireplace that even now crackled as its fuel was slowly consumed by the orange blades of flame. On the walls were minuscule, yet detailed tapestries, each of them with some figure of a dragon or another. Obviously, Ark thought silently, Fyr was proud of his heritage.

"Come, come, Ark, do sit down," continued the voice, and for the first time in his life, Ark saw a dragon as he looked against the back wall.
Seated on another bench against the opposite wall, this one with a green cushion, was Fyr. He looked massive, easily clearing 6 feet in height. From the looks of him, he appeared almost humanoid, as he had very human-like qualities, like the two legs and arms, the same torso, and other similar features, just with reptilian characteristics. He certainly looked fearsome enough, with golden scales on his belly that covered a sinewy chest. As the scales went towards his back, they turned a hellish red color, as if to say where he had gotten his reputation of a vicious man-eater. His face was dominated by a long snout that glittered on both sides with sharp teeth, the great horns that protruded from the back of his skull like two javelins ready to be thrown, and his eyes, almost bronze in color, were like large copper coins shining in the sunlight. His long forearms ended in claws that looked like they were made of diamond or some other hard material, and just his hands alone looked like they could crush his ribs with little effort. He just screamed of power. Under the bench swung an gigantic tail, glimmering like a spear in the firelight. Nearly hidden in the shadows were the titan's wings, large bat-like things that were just plain enormous, and they went up to the ceiling. His legs as thick as tree trunks, and his barrel stomach led down to----
Ark quickly shook himself out of it, turning a bright beet red as he went over to the red-cushioned bench and sat down. He had noticed where his gaze was going, and it had frightened him how he had even dared to look . . . there.

"No, no, over here, with me."

He turned even redder as Fyr beckoned Ark over to his bench. He nodded slowly, got back up, and stumbled over to the bench on which the great reptilian was seated. He cleared his throat and sat down.

"Why so nervous, Ark? I would figure that a servant of the king would be as tough as the mighty oak."

"Well, ummm . . . I'm just worried that . . . you might not . . .tolerate . . . my--"

"Oh, are they still pulling that prank?" Fyr sounded almost offended at the idea of Ark being scared of him. "You don't have to worry about me. I have never eaten humans. Too skinny for my tastes." He got up and walked over to a small chest in the corner of the cave. "Besides, I already had dinner. Would you care for some?"

"Ummm . . . sure. That would be fine, sir."

"Please, call me Fyr. I took enough trouble to learn your name."

"Oh, that reminds me. How did you know my name? Are you--"

"Magical? No more than you," he said as he got some legs of lamb out of the chest and closed it. "Actually, the king sent me a notice of all the fine young men who had been made into squires in the last year. Your name was on the list . . . and on the bottom, I might add."

"Well, yes, I graduated last, uh, Fyr."

"That's what I figured, so I believed that you would want glory first, and how better than to go see a dragon for yourself, right? I guess I was just lucky."
He crossed back to the bench and handed Ark a plump, juicy leg of lamb. "Please, help yourself. We will conduct business later."

After two legs of lamb and a couple of carrots (turns out that dragons are omnivorous, which amused Ark to no end), Ark finally remembered his message to Fyr.

"His Majesty requests . . . um, oh yeah - he requests your aid in the fight against . . . against . . . Gafgah?"

"You mean Gafgar?"

"Yes, that's it! The fight against Gafgar! Sorry, it just came out wrong."

"I see. Tell me: are you educated?"

"What?" The question had been so sudden that Ark had completely missed it.

"Are you a learned lad?"

"Of course I am! I went to the academy!"

"No, I mean, are you literate? Can you do mathematics? Are you educated?"

This confused Ark. Why would a dragon be concerned with a young man's background in schooling? He decided to find out.

"Well, honestly, no. My parents did not have the money. I learned to read on my own, but that's all."

"Would you like to learn?" "Well, yeah. That'd be great."

"Come back tomorrow. Around noon. You can tell time, correct?"

"Of course I can."

"Good. We'll get started then. Until then, I bid you farewell. Have a safe return journey."

Ark slowly got up and, giving Fyr a short wave of good-bye, left the cave without a word. He could feel the titan's eyes looming on him as he walked back through the cave.
Ark went to the king's throne room and told him what had come to pass at the dragon's lair, and how he was expected back tomorrow. The king said it was all right to be absent if, indeed, the dragon wanted to see him, and he thanked him for delivering the message, asking Ark to report back when the dragon decided to aid them officially. It was getting quite late now, so Ark went home to his relatively small house on a dirt path. As he walked up to his door, he took a quick glance at his carefully-guarded garden in the backyard, and, seeing the blossoms in full bloom, gave a small smile to himself. He climbed into his bed and settled in for the night. All he could think about as his eyes grew heavier was the great dragon who he had seen today, and was going to see tomorrow. As his eyes closed, he imagined the beast's own eyes, beautiful to look upon. You could get lost in those eyes, he thought to himself, and indeed, he felt that Fyr's eyes were a great sea that he was drowning in: a wonderfully warm, orange sea, where the waves lapped ever so gently on his face, and the current at his feet was not violent, just soft enough to pull him slowly like a boat in a pond on a lazy day. It was a wonderful sensation, and he fell blissfully asleep.

Noon couldn't come swiftly enough for Ark as he patiently counted down the minutes. Everyone in the city agreed that the clock his father had made was very accurate, and he glanced at it repeatedly as he waited and waited to leave for the cave. When it hit 11:30, he could wait no longer, and he raced through the woods at a horse's pace. He reached the cave at 11:40.

"You are here early," said the red-and-gold dragon as he stepped forward to greet him. "That shows promise in a student."

"Student? Does that mean---"

"Yes, I am going to be your teacher. Young men should be educated, so they may better serve their Liege. Has no one told you this?"

"Well, like I said, my father could not afford schooling for us when we were younger."

"You have siblings?"

"Yeah, one brother who is one of the king's finest knights. Surely you've heard of Sir Cecil?"

"Ah, yes, I do recall one by that name. I have more respect for him now, seeing as he's done so well under such circumstances. Well, shall we get started?"
Fyr went over to a very-dark corner of the cave, where he took a deep breath and exhaled, sending a small fire from his nostrils. It illuminated a bookshelf of sorts, from which he pulled down a rather thick one. As Ark looked at this odd spectacle, he found himself more amused at this most peculiar dragon who was so concerned with learned men. But, he decided he now had more important things to worry about and followed Fyr as he walked out into the open air with the book.
Fyr had decided to divide up his teachings into hours, over a 4-hour time span. How he was counting down the time so well without a clock, Ark could only guess, but he didn't have much time to ponder, as the first hour was spelling and writing.
The book was a spelling book that he called a "dictionary." He showed some words to Ark, and then he had Ark try and write them down on a large paper that he produced from the same book. At first, and naturally, his writing was very sloppy and over-exaggerated, but Fyr would take his hand in his claw and would guide him through the letters. Ark found himself noticing only the warm scaly hand that enclosed his own. It felt so nice, so soft against his skin, he never wanted those lessons to end. He found himself having trouble on purpose once or twice just so Fyr would help him. However, he soon started paying attention to the lessons and progressively grew better as he went along.
Next came arithmetic. Ark found himself understanding the concepts all right, but when it came down to applying those concepts, he would go completely blank. He could deduce that 2 plus 2 equaled 4, , and that 2 minus 2 equaled 0, but he could not write it down. He gradually learned about the plus and minus signs, the equals sign, and other such things that we take for granted. Within the hour, he was adding and subtracting double-digit numbers, and he was smiling like he used to when he was younger.
Third was literature and history combined. Fyr produced another book, this one with the works of various authors from neighboring kingdoms. He helped Ark to pronounce some of the larger words, but those corrections soon ceased to about 2 corrections per page as Ark took sounds he learned before and used them on similar words, like "soon" and "noon", or "thumb" and "dumb". He was also understanding the sentences much better now, whereas before he could read, but it didn't make much sense. He decided that his current favorite author was one Mr. Franz Igler, who had written a story entitled, "Dame Across the Open Sea," a story about a young woman who was crossing a large ocean in search of her fiancé. Unfortunately, the book had no stories on dragons. The history book was, unfortunately, very small, barely a pamphlet, because only recently was history considered important enough to log in anything except a diary or journal, so Fyr (who, it turned out, was about 100 years old, or about 25 in human years, which was also Ark's age) recalled some past events he had seen in the kingdom, dating back to King Roschan's grandfather's rule. They were very exciting, and Ark found himself giddy with excitement as Fyr described the various wars he had assisted in under the old kings' rule.
Lastly came an interesting lesson that Fyr referred to as "science". With this, because no books had been printed on the subject, Fyr took him outside and sat on a nearby log.

"Tell me, Ark. What do you see?"

Ark looked around, confused. "Well, I see the sky, the dirt, the trees--"

"Very good. Now, what do you suppose created those trees? That dirt? The sky?"

"Umm . . . God?"

"Well, that's possible, yes. But, haven't you ever wondered what dirt or trees really were? Why they look the way they are?"

"Well," Ark stammered, "isn't dirt just a bunch of rocks?"

"That it is, lad. However, what I'm getting at is this: it's a large group of little rocks. Not just one kind."

"So, it's a bunch of little rocks. So what?"

"So look more closely at it. Each pebble or stone looks a little different, don't you think? Go on, have a look."

Ark was very skeptical about this, but he dropped to his knees and peered at the pebbles under him. He couldn't disagree, they were a variety of colors. There were some reds, a couple milky-white ones, but mostly the normal brown variety. He got back up, and Fyr continued.

"Some rocks look pretty ordinary, for certain. However . . ." --he reached behind his back to get something-- "Sometimes, what you think to be ordinary, can end up being extraordinary."

He brought his arm to his front, presenting an ugly brown rock, about the size of his fist. He held it high over his head, then brought it crashing down upon a large nearby boulder, and it split open with a loud crash.
It was a geode, and the crystals inside dazzled Ark as he admired them in the sunlight above. He picked up the stone in awe, virtually lost as Fyr observed the expression on his face. Ark turned back to his mentor.

"Are all rocks like this?" he asked in a curious fashion.

"No, I'm afraid not. You have to search long and hard, but when you do, you might end up with a priceless treasure, just like in real life. You may keep it if you wish, I have no use of such things."

"Whoa, thanks Fyr!" Ark reached over and grabbed the serpent's clawed hand and shook it wildly.

"Well, that's all for today's lesson. If it is all right, could you perhaps come back on Thursday?"

"Yeah, that's be fine. See ya Thursday!" Ark leaped wildly home. He had never felt so good. All because of a sparkly rock, he mused to himself. He got home, where he received numerous offers for the geode, but, knowing how he had come about it, he declined them all. He could almost make out the scratch marks where Fyr's talons had scraped it. He placed it like a deity upon his mantle.
Ark's lessons with Fyr became a weekly event, and Ark always felt like a little kid whenever they happened. Fyr slowly but surely continued to pour the knowledge into his brain like a magical elixir, always making sure he wasn't leaving his eager student behind. With his newfound wisdom, Ark quickly gained a respectable position in the king's court, and the king himself commended Fyr's efforts with him. However, after a month, the war broke out, and Fyr put the lessons to a halt for "a wee bit" while he went to back the king's armies. Ark stayed behind and kept the king's children company, as he was not a knight, and civilians were not permitted to go to war without just cause. The war lasted only a few scant months, but it seemed like an eternity to Ark, who could only long to be with Fyr, to look into his deep, radiant eyes, to hear the guttural voice as it encouraged him, to feel the gentle hands as they held his own . . .
Ark woke up with a start and in a cold sweat. Is it possible? he wondered. He quickly pushed the thought from his mind. He could be put to death for acts of the Devil if it were true, and if someone found out. He could not sleep for the next few hours, so he quietly read a book of Shakespeare's plays through the rest of the night. The sounds of crickets chirping sluggishly caused his eyes to grow heavy, and he once again fell asleep.
The day of the war's end, the entire kingdom held a celebration. The two realms had forged an alliance which would be beneficial to all included, and the king was going to make sure that everyone knew it. A great dance was held in the main hall of the castle, but Ark found himself wanting to learn, if not at least be with the one from which he learned. Many a beautiful woman came to him and asked to dance, and he did dance with them, but he found his mind wandering. He ate and drank and made merry, but not once could he actually show that he was merry. He found himself looking again and again at a portrait of Fyr made by the realm's finest artist. It depicted Fyr in one of his most courageous moments, as he breathed his hellish fire upon a great wall that the kingdom of Gafgar had constructed of wood, and it had captured the dragon almost to a "T", although Ark did notice one or two flaws in the painting. It made no matter, though, as it was still a very accurate representation. All the colors matched, and he looked just as fearsome as he did in real life. He actually bought it, as well, for 400 gold coins, despite the initial opposition of the king, but after Ark lied and said he wanted to forever remember who had made him who he was today, the king relented, saying it was an honest enough cause. He took it home and put it on his wall. He continued to stare at it, the broad lines and contours of the lizard's body, and then he saw the eyes. They looked almost exactly as Fyr's deep, bronze eyes looked in real life, and it alarmed him how precise the drawing was. He felt that drowning sensation again as the full moon shown overhead. As he looked at them, he made his decision, and he set about carrying it out.

It was almost 9:00 when he reached Fyr's cave.
"Good," he said to himself under his breath, "A light is on. That means he's still awake."
He entered to the first row of stalagmites, of which he knocked three times on one. He could see Fyr turn around to face him on his bench.

"Ah, Ark, so good to see you. Please, come in." He stood up to greet him.

Ark entered and took off his cap. "I bought a painting of you today. It is a very good likeness."

"Ah, did you? You will have to show me sometime. Now, what can I do for you?"

"Well, first things first, I suppose. Thank you . . . you know, for all you've done to help me. I wouldn't be as important as I am without your help."

"Glad I could help, my good fellow. A learned man is more than ten times more valuable than an ignorant one." "Yes, so you have said and I have come to realize. But, to tell you the truth . . ." Ark looked to the rocky floor in shame. "What's wrong? Is something bothering you?" Ark could only continue to look down. His face burned as it continued to fill with his life's blood. "It's . . . you . . ." "Me? What have I done?" "Oh, I don't mean it that way. You have done nothing wrong. It's just that . . ." He could no longer hold in his tears, and a few fell to the ground. "Come, sit over here and you can regain your composure." Ark shuffled over to the bench and sat down, and Fyr lowered himself next to him. Ark wiped a few tears from his warm face, and as he lowered the moist hand down to the cushion, Fyr's own palm rose and caught it, holding it tenderly, lovingly, and Ark felt all his shame begin to melt away as in a vat of boiling oil. "It's that . . . you . . . you are so beautiful to look at . . . and I think that I'm . . . well, and if I am, I will be killed for sure." There, he thought. He said it. Not all of it, just enough that was appropriate. Fyr stared at him in puzzlement for a moment, then it came to him. "Oh . . . I see . . . well, if there is anything I can---" "You don't want to know what I'll say to that, so don't say it, Fyr!" Ark was amazed at his outburst, and he began making grand apologetic gestures. "Oh God, I'm so sorry, Fyr, I didn't mean to!" "Ark, it's all right. Come here." Fyr gathered up the human next to him and clutched him to his chest. The scales under Ark's skin felt very warm as Fyr's own blood flowed fast and quick through his own body. Fyr began petting along Ark's back in a smooth fashion, seemingly pushing the apprehension out of him, down to his legs and out. Ark closed his eyes in contentment and eased his muscles, laying quietly on the dragon's broad chest as Fyr continued to pet him, tears streaming down his face and his shoulders shaking with his sobbing as his guilt caught up to him in full sway. "I wouldn't want you to go home by yourself in such a state," said Fyr, picking him up delicately. "Why don't you stay here for tonight?" He carried him into a doorway in a darker corner of the cave, a corner that Ark hadn't noticed before. He looked around through moist eyes, and he noticed a very large cushion, whose color was indistinguishable, in the center of the room, illuminated by moonlight from a skylight situated directly overhead. Another fireplace was in this room, and after he had placed Ark upon the mattress, Fyr went over to and breathed into it, setting the log inside ablaze. He crossed back to the mattress and sat down. Ark could keep it cooped up no longer. "Fyr, I love you." Fyr merely stared at him. Ark felt his face flush again. He felt so foolish; did he really think that the being of his dreams would really return his affection? Or that God would let him get away with this unpunished? He started to get up, but Fyr held him down. "Ark, are you worried that God will punish you since you were honest with me like that? If it is what you know in your heart to be right, then how can you possibly be damned?" Ark had never thought of it that way before. But still . . . "But . . . what about you? . . . You don't feel the same way about me, do you?" "Of course I do." Ark looked at him with wide, damp eyes. "I spent years observing you, your skills, your home. That's how I really know your name. I knew your brother, as well as you father already, but I was unsure of how you would react if you knew I had been spying on you, so I asked them not to say anything. I was fascinated by your apparent fascination with we dragons, and I wanted to know you better. I think part of the reason was . . . I was attracted to you, as you say you are attracted to me. Was that not your reason for coming to deliver me the message that day?" Ark knew this to be true. He looked up into Fyr's face, which was stern, yet gentle; horrific, yet captivating. He reached up a tentative arm, then tossed his shyness away and threw his arms as far as he could around the dragon's neck, tears flooding his eyes. He does feel the same way, he thought. Fyr put his own arms around Ark, holding him close, protectively. They sat like that for almost half an hour, just holding each other, two souls yearning for the other, but still a little nervous about what might come about afterwards. Ark broke the embrace and stood up, trembling. Fyr watched him carefully as he slipped off his shirt and pants and kicked off his sandals, leaving only bare skin that shone unsteadily in the firelight. He stepped back over to Fyr's side and crawled into his lap, where Fyr cradled him like a newborn babe. The human went on to reach his hand up to the monster's face, running his palm around the jawbone, down across the neck, and back up to the muzzle, seemingly curious about what made this creature tick inside. Fyr did likewise, stroking his talon over Ark's face delicately, rubbing in a caressing manner. His mouth opened slightly as he breathed a bit harder, and Ark looked inside it, watching the slender, long tongue grope around the needle-like fangs, as if enticing some morsel inside. They could contain their emotions no longer. Ark reached his head further up as Fyr brought his own down, and the tip of the dragon's tongue disappeared between Ark's lips. He suckled it as a baby does a mother's breast, and his own tongue patted it lovingly as Ark's hands held the sides of Fyr's head. Fyr's claws ran along Ark's body, exploring every crevice above the waist line, running through his hair, and rubbing smoothly over his back and chest as his tongue continued to explore the nooks and crannies of Ark's mouth. He pressed a bit more of its length amid Ark's teeth, causing his lips to meet Ark's own. The passionate kiss lasted a painfully long time, but it was still not enough to satisfy what Ark had dreamed of for so long. Fyr broke the kiss, despite Ark's protests, and nuzzled him gently as he eased Ark onto his back. He then pressed Ark into the mattress and, to Ark's delight, restarted the kiss with more passion, more vigor. Their tongues climbed around and over each other as Fyr hovered over Ark's body, virtually smothering him under the mountain of reptilian skin. The saliva rubbed off of Fyr's tongue and was sucked into Ark's mouth, and he ingested it without thinking, his inhibitions tossed aside like an old rag, only living in the happiness of the moment as the dragon's slick tongue was steadfastly nursed upon by his human lover. He broke the kiss again, after a much longer period of time, and began caressing along every inch of Ark's body. He inhaled his scent as he patiently cleaned him off with the tongue that had just moments before been probing deep into the human's throat. All the new tastes, all the new feelings excited him, and he wanted more of them. Ark was thrilled as the damp organ slid over his body, leaving it cool in its wake. It titillated him how the long, winding gland went into places that he had never even conceived of a normal human woman having gone to. His erection, which he paid no heed, throbbed wildly as the tongue worked its way between the mattress and himself, around his legs, and finally, he stopped when he saw the quivering phallus. He looked at it interestedly, unsure of what to make of it. He held a clawed hand to it, causing Ark to squirm under him. He rubbed it gently between his forefingers, and Ark gave a small, contented grunt. "Oh, so that pleases you," said Fyr, as he continued to toy with the human organ, massaging it delicately. He released his grip on it, moved his head lower, and hesitantly gave it a small lick. The taste that came back was an exciting, zesty flavor, and Ark squirmed some more under him, and Fyr gave a longer, more daring lick, completely encircling it. He then attacked it in earnest, wrapping his tongue completely around it and drawing it into his mouth. Ark let out a small cry and threw his hips up. Fyr continued to suck as he eased Ark back flat onto the mattress with a free hand. The monstrous tongue ran all around his phallus: over it, under it, and across it. It wrapped completely around it like a python, squeezing it just right, letting it go, then squeezing some more. Fyr growled in pleasure as the tangy taste ran over his tongue and down his gullet, and the vibration of the sound among his loins caused Ark to give a small yelp. He ran one claw around Ark's legs, pinning him down, and his other claw up along his stomach and chest, and Ark threw his arms around it like a lover, kissing it wildly and rubbing it as Fyr stroked his face and continued to suckle the penis that even now provided his tongue with stimulation. He growled again, a longer, deeper roar, as his tail winded its way around him to his front, where its tip lovingly caressed Ark's scrotum. All this was more than enough to induce Ark to orgasm, and he shot his semen into Fyr's mouth and down his throat as he continued to stroke the large arm that held him. The sperm vanished almost as soon as it came out, one, two, three, four spurts of it going down Fyr's esophagus into his stomach. The salty sensation was exquisite, and he continued to suckle the spent penis for minutes afterwards as Ark lay heaving upon the mattress. The tongue ran over and around the tip, penetrating slightly into the canal, but it was no use. His supply was depleted for now. Fyr let go of Ark's legs and released his firm grasp on his penis, licking his lips in delight. "That was wonderful, Fyr," Ark said. It sounded kind of sappy, but he was at least being honest. Fyr lay his head across Ark's chest, purring in contentment, as Ark ran his arm along one of the dragon's spikes, still running his other hand up and down the smooth, glossy length of Fyr's muscular arm. The horn gleamed in the moonlight, as the fire had almost vanished with time. As it approached 10:30, more minutes passed, and Ark looked at Fyr, who had rolled onto his back, with his wings virtually spread out like a blanket to avoid any injury. He appeared to almost shimmer as the light of a million stars poured on him from the heavens above. For the first time in his life, Ark felt that they truly were right for each other. And if he was to be truly happy, he wanted his friend . . . no, his mate to be happy as well. He got slowly go up and climbed up on Fyr's stomach. The dragon looked at him in curiosity. Ark looked down underneath his body and saw the beast's erection starting to come forth out of its housing. "So, as you have done me a service," said Ark, placing his hands on the reptile's massive pectorals, "so shall I do you one." He first took a moment to rub the dragon's body, outlining all the muscles with his index fingers and readying the satisfaction he knew was to come. He then sat up and reached a hand down to the growing member that was peeking out from between his legs. He stroked it carefully, placing just the right amount of pressure on it. Fyr groaned in appreciation. Then, Ark reached down and gave it a lick of his own, resulting in another, slightly louder moan from the hulking lizard. As good as it felt and tasted, Ark was not satisfied with just tonguing the growing organ. Thinking of his own anatomy, he came up with a wild idea that he figured would do the trick. He slid his body forward, spreading his legs further apart. As soon as they were as far apart as was comfortably permitted, he slid back down, allowing the dragon's penis to enter through the muscles that protected the interior of his anus from the outside. Fyr, while initially kind of shocked, started purring, this time almost from his belly, and started pumping, a toothy smile covering his face. Ark was happy too, as his plan had worked. He felt terrific as the phallus pistoned itself inside his rectum, stimulating the sphincter muscles. As he gasped for breath, he suckled on the reptilian nipples that even now rose and fell as the dragon's ribcage made room for his own breath, only to shoot it back out in flights of fantasy. Even though nothing came out of them, they still tasted pretty good as he sucked them, the feeling rich and fleshy as his tongue danced over the anatomically-useless teats. Fyr, while continually letting forth roars of increasing volume, ran his hands onto Ark's shoulders, clutching them with his claws as his penis sent forth its own, inaudible song of pleasure from within Ark's rectum, its song growing in intensity with each thrust the titan took. Ark found himself growing aroused again. Fyr gave his right ear a quick lick as he kept up the pumping, which grew even more frantic and urgent, so urgent that he dug his claws a bit too much into Ark's left shoulder, leaving a dark red impression that lasted for days afterwards. Ark felt something long and warm wind its way around the base of his leg, and without looking, he knew it was the giant's tail. It continued its slow deliberate journey, ending back up at Ark's groin. It wound its way up past Ark's thighs and encountered his now-erect phallus, working itself around the shaft of skin, producing a virtual dragon condom and adding to the excitement as it squeezed and vibrated the ever-more-aroused member. As Ark proceeded to tongue the beast's left nipple and pump his organ into Fyr's lengthy tail, he heard a sound like a loud lion screaming in agony. He glanced up, still panting, and saw Fyr's mouth wide open, exposing the many fangs that he used to slice open the lambs he had only just served Ark a few months ago. Then, Ark felt a hot liquid being pumped into his anus. The torrent didn't seem to end for a long time, and it even hurt like he'd never felt, but he didn't care. He had finally been sated, he thought to himself, as his own pleasure squished noisily among the coils of Fyr's tail and collected in a white pool at the bottom of the dragon's navel as he orgasmed. The ambidextrous dragon's tail rubbed slowly along the length of Ark's calves, slightly stimulating the warm skin. He settled down against Fyr's massive chest, looking up into his smiling face. The dragon ran his claw through his hair, combing it back. "Thank you, Ark," said Fyr, giving his arm a little squeeze. "That felt very good tonight. I hope it was good for you, too." "Yes, it was," replied Ark, holding Fyr's clawed hand in his own. "You have no idea how long I've dreamed of one like you." "Two souls searching for one another, and then finally finding each other," mused Fyr. "Do you think we are such a case?" "Perhaps. Good night . . . friend," said Ark sleepily. "Good night," said the drowzy-eyed dragon, ". . . paramour." And the pair settled in for the night, Fyr purring loudly, his member still hard inside Ark's anus, and Ark feeling the purring underneath him as he lay his head upon the dragon. As the fire slowly dwindled and died out, it left them bathed in moonlight from above. The stars were gleaming tonight, and as Ark looked up at them, he saw the great draconian face above him in an expression of serenity. He smiled himself, adjusted his head on Fyr's chest, and fell soundly asleep.