Mahao’li makes another incomprehensible noise as the last of his high rolls over him,letting his weight sag onto Veom’ra in the table beneath him. With a gasp, he releases his bite on the man’s shoulder, getting his head replace it. He turns his head to view their new companion, panting out between heavy breaths. “Veom’ra wins…..by a malm….”

“Was it a competition for best mare?” Veom’ra asks with enough smugness to smoke a ham. “I didn’t even realize. What’s the prize, another round?”

Cehn’to’s ears droop. “I was working at a disadvantage. He couldn’t use me right with the ruunte in his ass….” He grabs the pot from where it sat and hoists it glumly. Even so, his cock twitches, thickened just enough to pull away from his balls.

“Also load taste and volume from getting head….what's your excuse for that one, Cehn’to?” Mahao’li playfully retorts as he regains his breath.

"That was my second one inside maybe 10 minutes? If you want the good stuff you should have had the first batch!" Cehn'to stomps out of the room with a cackle of challenge.

"Cum is like olive oil, I suppose. The best stuff is in the first press?" Veom'ra says in a heavy, tired voice as Cehn'to leaves. He looks back at Mahao'li. "You play rough with his affections, satihr. I do hope you pet him and tell him sweet things once in a while, even if he both likes and deserves the harder stuff." Veom'ra giggles and staggers toward the door. "Are you ready for a real meal now, or should I send another one in here to try to sate your other appetites first?"

Mahao’li giggles as the stretches and removes himself from Veom’ra, shaking himself to get the blood flowing again. “It was playful goading, nothing more. I have every intention of giving him plenty of pets and affection.”

He leans against the table Veom’ra had just vacated, tail flicking slowly as he contemplates the question. Ie idly trails a finger through Veom’ra’s pre left on the surface, bringing it to his lips. “Hmm, as I said, the attention has been a rare treat, and not one that I see being satiated any time soon.” He grins at his companion before continuing. “That being said, I have shot three loads in the past hour or so, and could probably use some proper recovery time before I breed again.” He gestures at Veom’ra as he licks the pre off his finger, smiling. “Judging from this, you could go again if you wanted.”

“We generally suggest that initiates work up to that level of sexual activity gradually, yes. Come have a bite to eat, and then you can sate yourself again.”

They re-enter the dining hall to a chorus of approving chuckles and nods. The rest of the group’s plates are clean, but tradition dictates they stay until the other two finish their meal, so instead they share stories and quips. If they mind the delay, nobody is rude enough to say it.

One of their number in particular looks at the newcomer with more interest now. He had been mostly grousing with one of the nekhucte earlier about something, but now he watches with Mahao’li out of the side of his eye with the smirk of a competitor.

Meanwhile, Rhaefi’a has recovered from his burnt tongue and is happily chattering away, though he also can’t seem to help but glance sheepishly at the guest every few seconds. His apron has a noticeable tent in it, a fact that nobody in this shrine seems inclined to hide when it happens to them.

“More bread, if you like it,” Rhaefi’a offers after finally taking a breath. “You must be hungry after all that.” He hands a roll to Mahao’li without waiting for a response.

Of the staff, only Qana’to seems distracted from their guest at first—he is absorbed in muttering quietly to Cehn’to. The words are inaudible, but the tone is soothing, or perhaps reassuring. Eventually, with a friendly wink, he looks over to the plates of his guest and his chief hravnjate, smiling to see them busily finishing their meals. “I was worried there wouldn’t be enough after all that exercise today,” he says to nobody in particular. “Thankfully, Hrevna’a cooked while hungry, it seems.”

Mahao'li grins as he sits back down beside the eager nekhucte, taking the proffered bread with a smile. "Poriyo, Rhaefi'a" Whether or not he was fully aware of the customary discretion was not evident on his face, his lips twisting into a smirk as his gaze followed Rhaefi'a's arm down to his chest, and then to the tent in his apron. "Did you enjoy the show, rikelohr?" He inquires playfully, before turning his head to the sound of Qana'to's voice with a start.

"The soup!" He turns his gaze around the table until his eyes land on Hrevna’a, raising an eyebrow at him. "Did you get the meal I prepared for you?"

Hrevna'a looks up from his empty bowl. "Yeah, no thanks to you, lazy arse," he says with a wink. His accent, unlike the rest of the group, is instantly recognizable as Gridanian, though a few random vowels sound more Lominsan, like he's been hanging around the taverns just a bit too much. "Going off to shag both our leaders back-to-back so you can get out of serving soup is—well, actually, it's the usual way we do it!" He shrugs and grins. "Guess there are worse excuses."

"Yes, he ate," Qana'to cuts in flatly, glaring at him. "And he means to thank you for the kindness. Gridanians have a weird way of showing gratitude, you know."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just pulling your tail. It was delicious." He leans back with a smug look. "Total peach of a thing, cooking for me. I was resigned to my hunk of cheese and sip of ale, but here I got myself a proper supper." He and Qana'to trade violent squints for precisely too long to be totally sure it is a joke.

Mahaho'li chuckles, shaking his head slightly and gesturing at Qana'to before meeting his gaze with a smile. "If anyone should be taking the blame it's Ruunte Qana'to. He stayed mounted on me until after the food was plated." He turns back to Hrevna'a with a nod. "And I take his thanks as genuine, Ruunte Qana'to. I've spent enough time in the city to understand their ways." He pauses for a moment to smile at the blonde again before continuing. "Of course, if there are rules here about how he should express his thanks, I can take all that back."

"Nah, we have an understanding."

"Yes, please do."

The two of them glare again after speaking simultaneously, and the long silence threatens to chill the whole table before Qana'to laughs and shakes his head. "If you aren't annoyed by his behavior, then it can stand. But I still insist he treat guests for delicately in the future."

"We agree to disagree, then," Hrevna'a says. "Not everyone wants to be treated like mother's precious infant when they come to the shrine of fucking, ruunte. Respectfully."

"It doesn't become more respectful just because you say respectfully."

"Eh, it's a warrior thing. You wouldn't get it."

By his face, tugging the ruunte's tail on this topic seems to its own reward for Hrevna'a.

Qana'to's face flickers between amusement and annoyance as he shakes his head and stands up from the table. "I suppose I'm more of a Lover than a fighter."

Mahao'li flicks his gaze between the too men before responding. "A compromise, then. Tonight, you'll accept Hrevna'a's Gridanian ways, and then tomorrow you can instruct him a more 'appropriate' way to thank me for dinner." It is not evident if this is a serious proposal or in jest, but Mahao'li does not wait for a reply before turning back to his own plate, polishing the last bite off before rising to his feet with the others.

"I can never quite tell if they're really mad at each other," Rhaefi'a murmurs as everyone starts to stand up and clear the table. After a few seconds have passed and the tension eased, he leans in shyly. "But yes, I did." His voice his warm and lodged at the back of his throat. "Enjoy the show, I mean."

"Good. I was glad to see that you were still excited when I came back." He playfully reaches down to rub his hand across the smaller, but still noticeable tent in Rhaefi'a's tunic as he passed him, following the others back to the kitchen to assist with cleanup.