Esther and Na’har stand on his terrace, watching the waves of the river wash over his private beach. A gust of wind blows through air, catching Na’har's dreads. Esther turns her head to smile at him, and notices the wind has also caught his loincloth. Her eyes wander over his taut ass, following the curves of his cheek, the pattern of light and dark brown spots that decorate his toned thighs.
Never missed a single squat. She thought to herself.
She looks back up at him, thinking of all the times he's smacked her own plush butt during sex or after greeting her. All the times she's told him she'd get him back. She's tried to get him back on a few occasions, but he always caught her before she could get close enough to land a hand on his sculpted derriere.
Esther looks back at Na’har. He seems to notice her staring and looks at her out of the corner of his eye, then turns his head for a moment to flick his upper tusks at her in a grin. As the tan and reddish-brown Yautja turns his attention back to the water, his little ooman mate turns her attention back to his ass. So close. So easy.
She turns her gaze back to his face, and then to his ass again.
It's now or never. She tells herself.
She reaches a small hand out, slipping it beneath his loincloth, and rests it on one of his muscular glutes. The warmth of his skin engulfs her hand, and Esther looks back at Na'har. He's still staring at the water. Maybe his skin is too tough for her to notice. She remembers their first meeting when she slapped and kicked him. She'd hurt her hand and foot, but to the behemoth before her, it had only felt like mere taps.
A grin spreads over Esther’s face, and she gives his cheek a firm squeeze. Nothing, at first, but then his cheek flexes against her hand. There's a soft purr, and Na’har turns his head to look down at her. Her grin grows wider, and Earth pulls her hand back and delivers a sharp smack to the Yautja’s ass. She notices it jiggles just over so slightly, and then gives him another squeeze, feeling each of his scales with her fingertips.
"Like what you feel?" Na'har asks.
Her constant grin tells him all he needs to know.
"I told you I would get you back," Esther says.
"So you did, my fierce little sain’ja," the Yautja replies. "So you did."
He turns to face her, and her hand remains on his ass. Looking down at her, Na'har flexes the muscles in his chest with a trill.
"And now it's my turn," he says. "I will give you a head start."
He's teasing. She knows he'll catch her before she even reaches the door. He's a hunter, and the thrill of the chase is what he loves.
Esther takes a step back.
She turns and runs for the door.
It happens so fast, she barely has time to blink. His warm chest presses up against her back, his muscular arms hold her in a vice-like grip. He begins to vibrate. He's purring, and Esther closes her eyes with a sigh to enjoy the feeling of his scales massaging her back.
"Well, my strong hunter, what will you do with me now?" She asks.
There is silence, and then a chirp, and his arm slips beneath her legs and she's swept into his arms. The giant's mandibles stroke over her face with soft trill, and Esther leans her ear against his chest to listen to his four heartbeats.
"I have quite a few things in mind," Na'har purrs, the adds, before carrying her inside, "You will not be leaving this house until we have done everything I can think of."
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