Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.
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Thanks to Lunarlilith, GCMIVB4, CaptObvious, and Truehearts for editing assistance.
Fair warning, this story contains themes of pseudo-incest.
Enjoy.
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Cool, clear water lapped around his ears as he floated, basking in tropical sunshine. He could feel it, hot on his shuttered eyelids, perfectly warm on his pleasantly full tummy. He breathed deep of the humid air, relaxing as the ripples from Kat's swimming bobbed him listlessly around the huge pool. The inflatable lounge beneath him struggled to keep his bulk afloat as he half dozed, a lazy lizard to his core.
As it turned out, Colonel Otero's family was incredibly wealthy. Their team was now enjoying their second, and last day of his hospitality in what Chris could only describe as a mansion.
After the scare he'd had at the village, his encounter with the supernatural, the Colonel would not take no for an answer when he insisted that they stay for at least a few days while they recovered. His aging mother was the head of the house, but she was pleased enough to host her son's guests. Even if they were foreigners, her son had impressed their importance upon her, and the matriarch only seemed to emerge at dinner anyway.
The Colonel was in awe of Chris and showed a keen interest in learning more about the concealed magical world. His own government had told him only the barest details before their arrival. After witnessing the dragon in action, he lamented the poor state of relations between his own country and its Beings, expressing a desire to do something about it. Therefore, while they were his guests, he plied them for every scrap of knowledge they could, in good conscience, reveal.
And what a place to be a guest. Secluded in the forest on a small rise above Manaus, the eighteen bedroom mini-palace was as ostentatious as they came. Complete with manicured gardens, a stable, a gigantic pool, sprawling greens, and a full staff of over twenty servants, it boggled the farm-raised young man. Actual servants, wearing black and white uniforms, deferential, and attentive.
Michelle had had to stop him from confronting Otero about it, explaining that while it might offend his sensibilities, such things were still considered normal in this country. Chris didn't believe it at first, but the family had been with the Oteros for several generations. She also assured him that from what she'd seen, the servants were treated very well. Chris had to admit that they seemed happy enough, laughing and joking in Portuguese as they went about their duties. They even had their own complex of cute houses at the rear of the estate.
It was just such a culture shock to be bustled politely but insistently away from the kitchen when all he'd wanted was a glass of water. Said glass was, of course, delivered a few minutes later by a fetching young woman. It was accompanied by a pitcher of iced lemon water, a selection of pastry goodies, and an exquisite sample of diced tropical fruit.
Chris lounged in the midday sun, so relaxed that his beer slipped from his loose fingers and upended in the water. Instinctively, his body lunged after it. Too late, he realised his mistake as the protesting inflatable made its escape, skittering out across the water to freedom as he was dumped unceremoniously under the surface. He spluttered to the top, beer bottle in hand, but the beverage ruined.
Kat laughed at his predicament, bobbing past him as her lithe, dark body cut through the water with a powerful breaststroke.
"Get me one as well, would ya?" she asked. "I'm almost done here."
"Sure." Chris watched her glide away, distorted by the rippling liquid. The yellow of her boyshort-bikini looked fantastic against her dark skin. The soldier was in phenomenal shape.
He rose dripping up onto the ochre-dyed concrete, surrounded by lush, potted growth. Fragrant, varicoloured flowers, ornate bushes, and well-groomed trees bordered the large, curved pool all the way around. It created a relaxing sense of seclusion without hindering the sunlight.
Shaped sort of like a boomerang, the pool wrapped around the back quarter of the enormous house. He now walked around the inside curve, headed for the kitchen. Otero said it was built that way so that his mother and father could each have their end and not need to see each other.
Pamela rested on a padded deck chair, her crutches beside her as she read a book and sipped a fresh-squeezed melon juice. He passed her with a friendly nod, and she graced him with a small smile in return. It turned out she had a penchant for tropical fruit, and the catering staff were more than happy to oblige her every fancy. Chris had to agree that she had the right idea, the acai smoothie he'd had with breakfast that morning was out of this world.
Further around the pool, his olive-skinned Familiar lay sprawled on a thick towel. Her black bikini was a lot smaller than he would have ever imagined her wearing, riding high into the valley of her modest, muscular looking ass as she basked face down, head cradled in her arms. She hadn't moved in a while, and he suspected she'd fallen asleep. Her short black hair was moist and messy from her earlier swim; lips pursed cutely as she breathed restfully. Trying not to disturb her, he snuck past and down the tiled pathway toward the back of the vast, Spanish style mansion.
A smiling maid noticed his approach and bustled out of the kitchen to meet him, her eyes running appreciatively over his pale physique. He didn't mind, having dosed the entire household with strategic droplets of pheromone cancellation potion on their first night. The young woman could ogle his mass and definition all she wanted without danger of becoming too dragon-struck.
She snatched the bottle right from his hand with a bobbing little bow.
"Mais uma?" she smiled sweetly, her dark eyes twinkling.
"Two, please," he held up two fingers.
"Dois, sim," she made a gentle banishing motion which he'd understand meant she would bring it to him.
"Ob... obrigado," he said haltingly. Using about the only Portuguese he'd picked up to thank her as she trotted back into the kitchen.
It was oppressively hot. The water had been keeping him nice and fresh, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to go back in just yet. The decision was taken away from him when he heard quiet footsteps padding up behind him.
He turned, finding Michelle looking up at him meaningfully. Her skin glistened with a few beads of sweat brought on by the sweltering heat. She looked lovely.
Not nearly as asleep as he'd assumed then. Without a word, she stepped into his space and ran her fingers down the muscles of his abdomen very boldly. His cock twitched in his wet trunks.
