~~Natasha~~
In the end, she couldn't ask Matt and Art to listen to her. When push came to shove, when rubber hit the road, she was so swept up in the moment that she was reduced to a whimpering set of legs and a river of juices in minutes. But she was going to give herself an A for effort anyway.
She smiled to herself as she washed Matt's body in the tub. Maybe next time? In the meantime, maybe she could try doing a little more... gate opening? Their gates of course, not hers. Hers could come later.
She smiled down at Matt's back. Art was standing beside them looking into the mirror, shaving, while Matt and her were still in the tub. Bathing together had come naturally, a byproduct of the fact both of her boyfriends were werewolves, and had voracious sexual appetites that manifested biologically. They came buckets. Which, in the moment, during the sex, was so terribly arousing that it melted her into a puddle. After sex, it was a giant pain, sticky and gross and ick and ew! So, bath.
Such a huge back on the gentle giant. So. Utterly. Huge. She couldn't wrap her arms around Matt if his arms were in the embrace, too big. Or, she was too small. Either way, it was quickly becoming a sight she was growing fond of. She rubbed soap along it, and licked her lips at the shape of his muscles, broad, hard, and how they fought against the pressure of the soap.
Wait, you're supposed to be gate opening. Stop admiring his broad shoulders. Less sexual stuff, more romantic stuff.
"You t-two should tell me more about... how you met," she said.
Art shrugged, tapped his blade in the sink — he shaved with a knife, eesh — and resumed shaving. "Avery's pack had just arrived in Tijuana. Stephanie was with them, and she knew the place a bit." Right, Stephanie, the one who died. "I had just suffered my first change... some people died. It was on the news. I was on the news. I went into hiding, and Avery tracked me down."
"We found him pretty beat up. I'd only been part of the group for a short while, and eager to prove myself." Matt turned around in the tub for her, and she began washing his chest. As much as Matt and Arturo were big burly guys, she was thankful they didn't have too too much body hair. Plenty, but not enough to seem like they were wearing sweaters. Still, she'd prefer they trim some of their pubic hair off, as was fashionable in the city. Maybe she could ask them later?
"So of course Lenny starts a fight with me the moment he finds me."
Matt chuckled. Mmm, such a warm noise, from so close.
"Hey, you threw the first punch, Art."
"You grabbed me by both shoulders. From behind!"
"I was trying to catch you. You Irraka are sneaky fuckers."
"Pretty sure the grab was followed by a tackle."
And back and forth they went, earning some giggles from Natasha as she listened to the two boys argue. Each had their way about it, an approach, a style. Arturo Ibarra had some grit to him, a touch of anger, a touch of the bad boy, but mostly a playful sort. Matthew Wilson was the gentle giant, and she could tell he didn't have Art's wit or grit; words and insults rolled off his back like water though. It was easy to see why they got along. Art was rough, in a way. And Matt was soft, in a way.
"W-What about b-b-before you became werewolves? What was life like? Or... or um, d-don't tell me, if you don't want to." She offered her best apologetic shrug at Matt, and continued to wash his body. Hard to focus on the questions, when rubbing down his enormous chest and abs and arms. She could fit into the grooves of him, between his arms and legs, and just disappear, if she wanted. No! Bad Tash. Focus.
"It's a touchy question," Matt said, "at least for some Uratha. Leaving behind the old life isn't always easy, you know? I... I guess you would know all too well." The giant turned his head to the side, exposing his neck to her a bit, and he looked at her with the corner of his eye. Quizzical, curious, expressions she didn't normally see on his face. But, it faded a few seconds later, and he smiled his usual smile. "I lost my family when I was very young, well before I became Uratha."
"Oh..."
"Don't worry, I was young, it's a faded memory. I lived far up North, and sometimes the conditions can get you killed, that far up."
"Far up North? You d-don't sound like... you're from Europe. Oh, Canada?" Must have been living in Nunavut or Labrador.
"Mmhmm. Eh."
Heh, her gentle giant was a stereotype.
"Do you... s-say sorry a lot?"
Arturo laughed, hard enough he had to put the knife down. "He does, because he keeps knocking shit over, a regular klutz."
Matt rolled his eyes, reached out, and picked Natasha up. She squeaked, squealed, and squirmed, as the huge man pulled her, wrapped her legs around his waist, and set her down so her butt pressed against his pelvis. He wasn't aroused since they'd just had sex, but she knew what these werewolves were like, and if she didn't get control of the situation, they'd be doing things to her in two minutes.
The gentle giant smiled down at her. The water of the tub reached their waists, hot, tingling. She wasn't blushing life anymore, but from the look on his face, she knew what he was going to ask. Or maybe ask her when he was done kissing her, because he leaned in, and set his lips to hers.
Arg, it was just so damn easy to simply let go, stop fighting, and let them — or in this case, him — take control. She sank into his waist, his shaft underneath her butt and getting harder by the second, as his kiss grew more and more passionate. His eyes were open a sliver, enough so she could see the joy in them, as his hands held her tiny body. Soon he was leaning over her, and she pressed against his chest to try and get him to stop. He didn't stop.
"Matt!" Art said.
"What!?" Matt sat up straight, and dropped her.
Water overwhelmed her, and she disappeared beneath the surface, frowning up at Matt the whole time. The water wasn't too hot, so she had no issues looking up through the waves at the man, who had 'sorry' written across his face in big, bold letters. He scooped her up again, and guided some hair off her face so it was dangling behind her.
"Sorry," he said, as if his puppy dog face wasn't apologetic enough.
She snorted, laughter breaking through her frown, and pulled on his neck to start kissing him again. Which, of course, caused the shaft underneath her to start getting harder again, and harder, until it was just like it was an hour ago, with the man ready for more sex.
Art was watching them now, standing beside the tub and rolling his eyes. "Matt, I was going to say, give the girl a break. But... I think we got time for a quickie."
Oh no. She tried to re-summon her frown, but Art set his hand on her hair, combing it along her scalp with his fingers, before he gently turned her head to face him. And, once he sat himself down on the tub edge, one leg in the tub, he began to masturbate. A few seconds was all it took for his shaft to grow to full length, and aim straight at her. And, as he smiled his devil smile at her, he pulled her head in toward his cock.
... ok, maybe a quickie.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If she was human, she'd be sore. Sex, sex, and more sex. Two boyfriends made it hard enough to go five minutes without one of them trying to get into her pants, but the fact both of them were werewolves, and more or less in a constant of ready to fuck, made it impossible. And, the fact that when they got their hands on her, they were rather... aggressive, about getting what they wanted, made it more impossible than impossible! And the fact that, every time they took hold of her, her whole body was set on fire, and she had to blush life and give in before it killed her, made it triple impossible.
But for now, they were done, and Art and Matt and she were out on the streets, walking toward Avery's base near the Carthian district.
"You sure you want to come with us on this hunt?" Matt said. "Claimed can be dangerous."
"I d-don't understand what claimed are. So, I... need information." Information made the world go round. It made Antoinette happy. It made Natasha happy too. If there were things like urged or claimed in the city, she needed to know what those things were. "And, you're my b-boyfriends! I should hang out w-w-with my boyfriends." And she liked saying the word. Boyfriends.
Art leaned in beside her, walking beside her, devil grin on his face. "Want to hold hands?"
"... no. I'm t-too small. I'd look like... your daughter, or something." Hand holding could come later, when they were alone.
Matt laughed, and turned to walk backward for a few moments while looking at them. "We know Dolareido is a strange city. But a lot of that strangeness, you Kindred don't really understand, right?" He slowed down for a moment until he was beside her, opposite of Art, and he started walking in line with them as he leaned in, reigning his voice in. "The balance between Dolareido and the Shadow world is an odd balance, sitting on a knife's edge."
"B-But I... d-don't know what means." And honestly, it wasn't her primary or secondary goal at the moment. Still, it was terribly intriguing, knowing her boyfriends could interact with this Shadow world at any time, when Antoinette and Tash had to work so damn hard just to get peeks at it.
"Maybe we'll show you sometime?" Matt said.
Art shook his head. "Avery would kill us. And more than that, it's not safe."
Natasha frowned up at Art. The three of them were walking the sidewalks closer to the Carthian district, which meant there weren't many people on the sidewalks, at least not nearly as many as the Invictus half of South Side. It gave them the room to walk side by side, and for Tash to try and shove Art. Alas, too light, and she succeeded only in pushing herself into Matt.
"I'm older than either of y-y-you! D-Don't underestimate me. I... would love to see it someday." Terrifying as that idea was. It also wasn't one of her goals, but the idea of crossing to the other side, of seeing this strange world she'd only poked at, of seeing more things like Safe or that strange spirit of secrets, it was all so interesting.
And that was one of the primary goals of the Ordo Dracul, to gain knowledge. Invictus wanted power, money, and structure. Lancea et Sanctum wanted history documented and religious tenets satisfied. Carthians wanted... well, borderline anarchy. The Circle of the Crone wanted to push their dark agendas, of instigating a predator and prey world filled. The Ordo Dracul wanted knowledge, all knowledge, especially about things that could be of use to a Kindred trying to learn more about themselves, about the nature of being a vampire.
At least, that was what Antoinette and Daniel taught her, and she bought into it, believed it. And now she was strong enough, old enough, to pursue it.
"Honestly," Art said, "I'm surprised you haven't been there already. Avery says Antoinette and Jacob have both been poking at the Gauntlet for centuries."
"Yeah, b-but all we can do is poke."
Matt nodded, sighing a little as he looked up, leaned back, and scratched his head through his shoulder-length dirty blond hair. "Honestly, I think we should take you. Dolareido's a great city, a nice place, all things considered. You vamps are a part of that, you made that. You should see what sort of effect it has on the side of the veil."
She perked up, blinking at him. She didn't realize their actions could affect the other side directly.
But Art shook his head. "You know if we ask Avery, she's going to say no."
