Albrecht

He’s not sure what a verdraai is, or what fucking language this buffoon is using, but it’s clearly not meant as a compliment so he takes every ounce of due insult from the term, regardless of his own ignorance. He’s already inhaling to snap something rude in reply when he notices the mans black rimmed eyes drifting down his frame and abruptly shuts his mouth again, teeth clicking audibly together. One ear flicks back and the other forward, trying to read the brightly colored pegusus as he speaks again and promptly, comically, trips over his own words.

“Yeah?” The old black smirks, only half teasing, the other half entirely sincere. His thoughts drift back in time, skipping over the unpleasant endings to a time when he was young and well liked, a time where friendly roughhousing had suddenly and unexpectedly become more and he’d found himself not unaccepting of the advances. At this the young python stops his grinding, tilting his head at the winged stallion in silent question. He probes at his bondeds thoughts, seeking reassurance for the idea that males can have sex with other males as well as females, a foreign concept to his largely instinctive opinions. One corner of the blacks mouth quirks up in amusement. He’d asked the same thing and been shown in no uncertain terms that the end results are just the same, minus the possibility of pregnancy.

The promise of pleasure without the infuriating aftereffects of more children to steal his bondeds attention away from him makes up the snakes mind. He circles the blacks horn again, pressing himself just so against its bony ridges, eyes locked onto the other stallion, silently encouraging a repeat performance of their time with the female pegasus, though he's not sure how it would work, mechanically speaking, this time. The blacks stomach quivers in answer, sensation pulsing once, hard and deliberate, from between his thighs. His ears flick backward, embarrassment burning beneath his cheeks. His beard is only so long, surely not long enough now, and though he takes no issue with homosexuality, he’d prefer that his trysts be of his choosing and not that of his sex crazed companion or else he'll be fucking everything with four legs before long. The snake writhes again, insistent, and the stallion can’t help a low exhale of breath from escaping his lungs.

Fine, he thinks, thankful that the winged stallion is a decent looking guy at least, tall and muscular, his enormous, colorful wings folded loosely against his sides. He eyes the pegasus, stepping cautiously forward. “Maybe verdraai -“ He butchers the word, he’s sure, but he doesn't care. “Aren’t so bad?” Questioning, he gathers the magic around himself, prepared to drive it forward against the male should he answer negatively, but in truth he’d prefer that this partner be willing. So far he’s only charmed mares, and even those were much smaller. This stallion is massive, maybe no taller at the wither than he, but easily twice as wide and twice the weight, not even counting the wings. He breathes in the strange mixture of fur and feather and sweat coming off the other stallions heated skin, his thin neck arching as he reaches out toward the gold of his flanks.



"Alby talks" 'Strom talks'
OOC // @Graasvoel