Chapter 3: The Flood Unleashed
kaelin starts eating beos out, drinking in the slick there like she’s dying of thirst. luckily for kaelin beos makes a lot of slick. kaelin ends up cumming just for eating beos out, not touched at all
Kaelin’s sluggish, satiated smile faltered for a second, replaced by a wave of hot shame that felt alien in her spore-softened mind. The girl was lying there, flushed and trembling and wet, clearly on the brink, and she’d just… stopped. Cum just from eating her out like a starving woman at a feast. She’d gotten hers and drifted.
But Beos’s question wasn’t an accusation. It was pure, undiluted inquiry. How do I make it fall?
The simple, trusting confusion of it shattered Kaelin’s brief self-consciousness. A low, rough laugh bubbled up from her chest. “Yeah. Sorry. Got a little carried away.” She pushed herself up on trembling arms, crawling back up Beos’s body. The scent of her own pleasure and Beos’s slick was thick in the air, mingling with the ever-present sweet rot of the spores. She settled her weight onto Beos, feeling the glorious, plush softness of her belly and breasts against her own. “Your river’s still moving, huh?”
Beos nodded, her iridescent eyes wide. Her hands came up to rest on Kaelin’s bare back. “It is a rushing feeling. Inside. It wants to… go somewhere.”
“I know where it wants to go,” Kaelin murmured, her voice still thick. She leaned down and kissed her, deep and slow, letting Beos taste herself on Kaelin’s tongue. Beos made a soft, eager sound, her hips lifting in a helpless little grind against Kaelin’s thigh.
When they broke apart, both were breathing harder. The spore-high had mellowed into a warm, golden hum in Kaelin’s veins, but it was still there, making every sensation vivid, every impulse feel ordained. She looked down at Beos’s face, at the pale mushroom cap fused to her temple, at the beautiful, strange asymmetry of her. “I’m gonna help it fall,” Kaelin promised, the words a husky whisper.
She shifted again, sliding back down the bed. Her earlier frenzy was gone, replaced by a focused, hungry reverence. She knelt between Beos’s thighs, which fell open for her without hesitation. The sight was even more devastating now. Beos was swollen, glistening, her folds flushed a deep, inviting pink. The slick wasn’t just present; it was a steady, welling source, coating her inner thighs, shining in the pulse-light of the embers.
“Fuck, look at you,” Kaelin breathed, her own core clenching in sympathetic need. “You’re so fucking wet. Like you’re making it just for me.”
“It is for the sharing,” Beos corrected softly, her head lolling to the side. “It is what happens. When the touching is good.”
Kaelin didn’t answer with words. She answered by lowering her head and running her tongue through the heart of her in one long, slow, deliberate stroke. The taste exploded on her senses—musky, sweet, profoundly Beos. She groaned, the sound vibrating against slick flesh.
Beos jolted, a sharp cry tearing from her throat. Her hands fisted in the blankets again. “Kaelin! Again—that—!”
But Kaelin was done talking. She dove in. This wasn’t the desperate, thirsty lapping of before. This was methodical. Worshipful. She spread Beos open with her thumbs, revealing the trembling, swollen bud of her clit. She closed her lips around it and sucked, hard.
Beos screamed. It was a raw, unfiltered sound that echoed off the groaning timber walls. Her whole body bowed off the bed, held only by Kaelin’s hands on her hips. The gush of slick that followed was immediate, a hot rush that filled Kaelin’s mouth. She drank it greedily, moaning as she did, her own hips shifting against nothing, seeking friction.
She worked her with a relentless rhythm. Sucking that sensitive nub, then lapping broad strokes through the flowing wetness, then plunging her tongue as deep as it would go, fucking her with it. The sounds were obscene—wet, sloppy, desperate. Kaelin’s chin was dripping. The blankets beneath Beos’s ass were darkening with moisture.
Beos was beyond words. She was a symphony of frantic, clicking whimpers and shattered gasps. Her legs shook violently. “I— it’s— too bright— I can’t see—!” she sobbed, her words breaking apart.
“That’s it,” Kaelin growled against her, pulling back for a gasping breath. “Let it go. Come for me. Soak my fucking face.” She plunged two fingers inside her, curling them, and sealed her mouth over her clit again.
It was the final key. Beos’s body locked, every muscle taut as a drawn wire. A ragged, silent scream seized her throat. Then the release broke over her, not a fall but a cataclysm. A hot flood of liquid erupted, drenching Kaelin’s mouth, her chin, her hands. It kept coming, wave after wave, as Beos convulsed, her back arching so high it seemed it might break.
Kaelin rode it out, drinking every gush, lapping at her pulsing core as the contractions gradually slowed. She didn’t stop until Beos collapsed, boneless and gasping, into the soaked blankets, a final, weak tremor running through her.
Slowly, Kaelin lifted her head. She was panting, her face glistening, strands of her dark hair stuck to her cheeks. She looked wrecked. Triumphant. Beos lay beneath her, eyes closed, her chest heaving. A profound stillness settled in the shack, broken only by the crackle of the fire and the slowing rain.
Kaelin wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, tasting Beos on her skin. She crawled up the bed again, her body heavy with spent exertion and the lingering, peaceful haze of the spores. She collapsed onto her side beside Beos, pulling the limp woman into her arms. Beos came easily, nestling her back against Kaelin’s front, her head fitting under Kaelin’s chin.
For a long time, they just breathed. Kaelin nuzzled into the silken black hair, inhaling the scent of moss and release. Her hand rested on the soft curve of Beos’s stomach, feeling the rapid, slowing flutter of her heartbeat beneath.
“Did it fall?” Kaelin whispered, her lips against Beos’s ear.
Beos took a shuddering breath. “It… broke the ground,” she murmured, her voice hoarse and awed. “It made a new lake.” She was silent for a moment. Then, with typical, jarring innocence, she asked, “Does your mouth hurt?”
Kaelin let out a choked laugh, holding her tighter. “No. No, it feels fucking fantastic.”
“Good.” Beos wriggled slightly, getting comfortable. She reached back a hand, her fingers brushing the damp hair at Kaelin’s temple. “The sharing was… very complete. I feel quiet inside now.”
“Yeah,” Kaelin agreed, the word a sigh. The warmth of the fire, the weight of the girl in her arms, the deep, satiated hum in her body—it was a perfect, stolen peace. Outside, the storm had gentled to a soft, steady patter on the roof. The embers in the hearth sighed, casting long, dancing shadows that played over the mushroom cap on Beos’s head, over the pale, luminescent skin of her shoulder.
Kaelin’s eyes grew heavy. The spore-haze was finally receding, leaving behind a deep, bodily exhaustion. Just as she was drifting off, her hand still splayed on Beos’s stomach, she felt it. A subtle, distinct pulse. Not a heartbeat. Something slower. A faint, responding glow emanated from the small clusters of fungi on Beos’s ribs, a soft, bioluminescent green that faded after a second.
Magic. Common as dirt in this world, but here, in this context, it felt like a secret. A silent thank you from a biology she couldn’t comprehend.
Beos, already slipping into a doze, hummed. “The colony is happy,” she mumbled, as if explaining the weather. “The Sovereign feels… contentment. It is a wide feeling.”
The words should have been strange, alarming. A telepathic mushroom father sensing his adopted daughter’s orgasm from miles away in an underground cave. But wrapped in warmth and satiation, it just felt… right. Another piece of the weird, beautiful puzzle that was Beos.
Kaelin pressed a final, soft kiss to her shoulder. “Good,” she whispered, and let the quiet dark, no longer threatening but deeply welcoming, claim her.