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and genetic
viability.”
    “Yes,
you seem healthy,” Avanelle breathed this out, completely confused by his
statements. They were quite clearly discussing the potential for fucking, but
in the strangest, most clinical way she could imagine. Where was the grabbing
and growling she’d anticipated? Men wanted to take and dominate, to pretend
they had some control over a chaotic world.
    “Perhaps
you worry about physical conformity.” With this, Mateen slid off the bed and
pulled at his clothes. In a few quick movements the loose tunic he’d been
wearing was tossed on top of a chair. Avanelle’s mouth went dry. Broad chest,
ridged abdomen, thick and bulging arms; Mateen looked like an idealized statue
of what a man should be. He reached for the fastener on his trousers but
stopped when there was a clanging noise from outside the bedroom.
    “Bynton,
please come in. Avanelle and I are in the midst of a discussion.”
    Within
a moment, Bynton was there, his eyebrows raised as he took in the sight of her
crouched on the bed and Mateen standing half-naked in front of her. He was
wearing tall boots, the armor she remembered striking to no effect, and a sleek
black coat that swept the floor behind him. Without a word he reached for his
garment and shrugged out of it, the slippery-looking material stretching over
his broad shoulders as he moved. Mateen waited as his companion shed his armor
and tunic. The room felt too warm, and Avanelle tugged at her shirt, making
sure it still covered her.
    Bynton
was as well-structured as Mateen, if only slightly less heavy. Standing side by
side, they seemed as formidable as a wall. As one, they reached for their
trousers, unabashedly stepping free of the garments to reveal soft knit shorts
distended by sizeable bulges. If she looked closely she could make out the
curve of their—
    “Wait!”
Avanelle held up her hands, suddenly afraid, this strange discussion taking on
a very immediate urgency. She wanted to see and yet wanted to close her eyes.
    “You
find us unattractive?” Bynton’s voice conveyed
disappointment. Mateen straightened, his hand at the
waistband of his shorts.
    “No, not unattractive. Hardly that.” Avanelle wasn’t sure what she was thinking.
They were beautiful in a strange way, close to a human ideal, but slightly
different, different enough to give her pause and tempt her at the same time.
    “We
were discussing physiology before you came in.” Mateen adjusted his protruding
cock, and Avanelle knew she was blushing even as she felt her nipples tighten.
He was so matter-of-fact. Just looking at the ridges and thick heads outlined
underneath the thin material was making her lightheaded.
    “Ah.”
Bynton nodded. “Would you like to see us?”
    With
a thick swallow, Avanelle gave a quick nod. It was inevitable, and perhaps
their very open manner would ease some of her nerves. Apparently at some point
she’d decided there was going to be physical contact between them. She wasn’t
sure when that page had turned, but somewhere between Mateen’s soft touches and Bynton’s worry that he repelled her, she’d made up
her mind. She knew she should be horrified at what was to come, but some pulse
of curiosity and desire thrummed through her. She wanted to know, to see, to
feel.
    They
had to pull the waistbands out to work their undershorts down, and once she saw
their cocks spring free, thick and dusky red, her breath rushed out even as her
sex swelled. The fine dark hair that covered their chests tapered down and then
thickened into a patch framing their erect members and full sacs. So large. Thick thighs, swollen with muscle, only emphasized
their masculine form. They had bodies made for battle and conquest. A shaky
part of her brain commanded her to lie back and spread her legs apart. Instead,
she pressed a hand to her mouth.
    “Are
we not as you expected?” Mateen was watching her with those hot eyes that
missed nothing.
    “No,
you’re fine. Very well made.”