MatarMy breath caught in my throat as I stepped into the room.
She was perfect.
Trish was spread out on the bed, her legs slightly parted, her n*****s hard, her cheeks flushed. Her belly still wore the signs of our first mating: blue, yellow and green. She was ours. And she was ready to be bred.
I was rock hard already, and I hadn't even touched her yet. Luckily, the ceremonial breeding garment was designed with precisely that in mind. Instead of trousers, I wore a loose-fitting kilt. Beneath it, I was bare. My chest was covered in paint, the traditional symbols of my family and clan. Since we'd grown up in the same community, Xil and Havel had the same symbols except for two each that represented our parents. On our backs, we'd added our own sign, one we'd designed yesterday without Tr
