Broll learns

[moonshadows]

“You can’t eat as much as Illidan,” I told Broll firmly. “But you’re going to try to best him anyway, knowing he’s had thousands of years of practice, out of some manly need to prove yourself, and you’re going to lose, and you’re going to spend the day outside retching until you bring up bile.”

“She’ll do it,” my brother-buck chimed in. “She’ll banish you from your own house.”

Broll shrugged. “It’s been sunny and clear. A day outside won’t be too great a hardship. And,” he added, grinning slyly, “I learned that it’s never wise to argue with a pregnant woman. If she says I’m going to try to best you out of a manly need to prove myself, then I’d better do so.”

My rage abruptly boiled. “Are you saying I’m wrong?”

“Of course not,” he soothed. “You’re just right in ways I hadn’t thought of.”

Damn, he’s good at this. I scowled at him for good measure and held my bowl out to Illidan for more stew. He’d made a prodigious vat of the stuff, knowing that I’d just reached the stage where my appetite would be surging, and remembering that my temper spiked in direct proportion to my hunger.

“More for me, too, if you please.” Broll held his bowl out mildly, and Illidan ladled stew into it.

“That’s three for you,” he said to the druid, “and three for you, sister-doe.” Calmly, he refilled his own. “And five for me.”

Broll’s jaw tightened briefly, and he set to emptying the newly-filled bowl into his mouth. I ate at a more leisurely pace, silently apologizing to my twin for goading him on like this. He did enjoy stretching the limits of his stomach, but right now he was a slave to the desires of my body as much as I was.

He has to get used to this facet of living with us, he reassured me silently. You know I don’t mind, sister-doe. Anything for you and your unborn fawn. The memory of ice-clotted lashes stuck to pale, cold cheeks shivered between us. Anything.

I focused on the complex web of life inside my body, separating what I was feeling from what came from him, judging the state of my appetite rather than his. The tiny flame of life I was nurturing flickered, my unborn child recognizing its mother’s touch, and I smiled gently.

“I’m done,” I said, pushing my empty bowl away. “How are you doing, Broll?”

The druid exhaled in a pained oof. “Illidan?”

My brother-buck belched thoughtfully and put both hands on his growing paunch, shaking it lightly. The feeling of having one need sated made his body eager to have another sated, as well, and discreetly he repositioned his thickening member. “Still jiggly,” he announced. “Plenty of room.”

Grimly, Broll held his bowl out for more.

I picked up the needle and cloth I’d been working on and resumed sewing a tiny robe for my unborn child, seemingly oblivious to the increasingly reluctant way its father was working through his dinner or the cheerful way Illidan announced, “Seven!” Through my twin’s eyes, I watched Broll stare incredulously as serving number seven vanished into my – his – gullet, the warm pressure of my – his – paunch rubbing tantalizingly against my – his – erection.

“I can’t eat another two bowls,” the druid admitted heavily. “You win.”

“I’ll save the rest for Kayne’s midday snack,” Illidan teased. “Sister-doe, dessert?”

I tried not to grin as Broll blanched. “Not for me,” I said. “For the baby.”

He colored, remembering that until our child was born, any “milk” we fed it would not be coming from my breasts. Then he groaned at the thought of that much activity on such a full stomach. “Ugh, how can you think about that?” he half-complained, bulging belly held protectively as though he could make his dinner shrink.

“Practice. Sister-doe?” Although he sounded calm, I could feel his need growing more urgent.

“Well, if you’ve already prepared it for me, it would be rude to refuse.” I grinned. “Are you going to give it to me, or do I have to get it myself?”

“I think it’s time I went out and watched the sun rise,” Broll said stiffly, easing himself up from the table.

“Nightsaber,” Illidan suggested. “It won’t save you from being sick, but it’s slightly less painful.”

With a grateful nod, Broll flowed into a great, maned cat and prowled heavily out of the room. My body remembered other things that form had done, and made its hunger quite known.

“Den,” I said shortly. I knew Illidan would want to stay in his own body for the after-dinner romp, but I wasn’t opposed to that. Right now, I wanted my other hunger sated as much as he did.

Illidan sprawled on a fur, hands insolently behind his head while I shrugged out of my robe and opened the front of his. It turned him on even more to be so hard with a belly so full, but I was used to that. Still, I took a firm hold and shook him a few times to make sure he was ready, grinning at the way the motion rippled across his swollen abdomen and stroked his gluttonous ego. He let out a deep sound of pleasure as I sheathed him, my hands braced on the unsteady surface of his stomach. Normally, this would have been a languorous sating of our intertwined desires; a slow and lazy ride to gentle climax. Normally, however, I wasn’t doing this to feed a tiny flame inside me. I rode him hard and fast, nearly forcing his orgasm out of him, letting out a hoarse cry as mine followed and I slumped forward to be embraced tenderly.

Some minutes later, when the proffered seed had been fully accepted, I rolled over and lay next to him on the fur. Illidan kissed my forehead gently and padded away for a moment, coming back with the bottle of sweet oil. Then it was my turn to lounge on the fur, hands insolently behind my head, as he underwent the ritual of rubbing oil into my skin to ease the burden of carrying a growing child. Outside, the trees informed me, Broll was regretting the delicious stew now being offered to nature.

“Think he learned his lesson?” I asked idly.

Illidan laughed. “He’s stubborn as a bear. I may have to more thoroughly demonstrate my capacity at some point.” He tilted his head, staring into the distance as he considered that. “Probably with water. Less time, less waste, and it sloshes so nicely.”

“Glutton,” I chuckled affectionately.

Unrepentantly, he grinned. “Guilty. What do you think – bed, or fur today?”

I stretched. “Mmm, fur. May as well be lazy as well as greedy.” And it felt rude to sleep in our host’s bed when he wasn’t.

Illidan put the oil away and padded back as a nightsaber, sprawling where I could use his flank as a pillow without moving much. Full and warm and content, I drifted off to sleep.