Prying Off The Starving Hole

Breakfast in the orchard barn turned into a logistical problem.

Varesa had prepared another absurdly oversized portion exclusively for Aether — dense root cakes, fruit-stuffed breads, fatty slices of meat, sweet preserves, and more of the late-season produce she kept adjusting for flavor. She set the loaded plate in front of him with bright, insistent eyes and refused to take no for an answer.

“Eat. All of it. You need it. And the taste has to stay right.”

At the same time she refused to leave his cock alone.

Before he could even pick up a fork she was already between his knees, mouth warm and wet around him, sucking with the same focused hunger she had shown the night before. Every time he tried to take a bite she would hollow her cheeks and pull a deep, wet stroke that made his hand pause. When he managed to chew she rewarded him with a slow swirl of her tongue. When he swallowed she took him into her throat and held him there, humming.

The pattern became relentless.

Forkful of food.

Long, greedy suck.

Another bite.

Deep, drooling bob of her head.

Varesa had completely replaced her usual constant snacking with his cock. She no longer reached for extra fruit or leftover cake. Instead she stayed latched on, saliva running down his shaft and her chin, soft wet sounds mixing with the quiet conversation of the rest of the pride as they ate their own (much smaller) breakfasts. Whenever Aether’s plate looked too full she would pull off just long enough to push another piece of food toward his mouth, then immediately sink back down and continue sucking as if the act of feeding him and the act of feeding herself had become the same thing.

Xilonen watched over the rim of her cup with mild professional interest, still moving a little carefully after the morning’s thorough breeding. Rosaria smirked behind her bread. Lisa looked openly amused. Even Shenhe’s blank gaze lingered on the sight of The Starving Hole treating Aether’s cock like her new favorite meal

By noon it had become a genuine problem.

Varesa had not released him once since breakfast. She followed when he stood, dropped to her knees whenever he sat, and kept up the same wet, relentless suction without any visible fatigue or jaw cramp. Her stamina for this new favorite meal seemed endless. Aether’s cock, however, was beginning to show the cost — flushed deep red, oversensitive, and visibly sore from hours of continuous attention.

They finally had to intervene.

Shenhe stepped in with calm, absolute strength. She hooked both arms under Varesa’s and simply lifted the girl straight off Aether’s cock. A long, thick string of spit and precum stretched between Varesa’s swollen lips and the tip before finally breaking. Varesa made a soft, protesting sound and reached back toward him on instinct, but Shenhe’s grip did not yield. Even The Starving Hole’s raw power could not immediately break the restrained woman’s hold.

“Enough,” Rosaria said firmly, already handing Aether a cool cloth. “He’s raw. You’re going to take the skin off him if you keep going.”

Varesa blinked, still breathing a little heavily, milk-stained breasts rising and falling, pink fire flickering weakly around her horns. She looked genuinely confused that anyone would want to stop.

Xilonen took the opening to explain, voice practical.

“We can’t stay here indefinitely. There are still two Name Bearers whose flames have gone cold — Citlali and Chasca. Mavuika needs them reignited the same way yours was. We have to keep moving.”

Varesa’s expression fell for a moment, then shifted into stubborn calculation as her eyes drifted back to Aether’s sore, glistening cock.

“…But the taste,” she said, almost plaintively. “I just got it right.”