The return journey the following morning to (Y/N)’s caves was short and enjoyable for both (Y/N) and Andy. Unbeknownst to the other, each of them snuck appreciative glances, all while being at pains to hide their admiration. Damica, however, was more sensible. She could not wait to reach home, and have a bit of a respite in the face of all this gallivanting around in a cloud of hormones. She was, after all, a mature vixen!

When Andy went to bid the other two adieu, promising to return in a few days’ time to discuss their journey to Mount Olympus, he caught up (Y/N)’s smooth, brass hand in his. Briefly, he considered placing a kiss on it, before deciding it would be totally inappropriate and unwelcome, and settling for giving it a quick squeeze.

As brief as the contact had been, it set (Y/N)’s heart racing, and she struggled to stay upright, her tail feeling strangely weak. As she waved goodbye, for the first time able to watch Andy as he retreated from her home, she felt her heart unfolding, bringing warmth to her cheeks.

Damica merely rolled her eyes at the two of them. It was so painfully obvious that they were mutually besotted! Did she have to do everything around here? She was tired of endeavoring to play matchmaker! Fed up, she went into (Y/N)’s bedroom cave and curled up on her bed of leaves and moss for a nap.

(Y/N), on the other hand, remained where she was for some time, the image of Andy’s wide smile and bright, cobalt eyes burned into her mind. She clutched his gifted tunic closer to her body and, for a few moments, imagined it was his clothed form pressing against hers.

This brought a return of that strange, hungry feeling, the one below her belly. A chill passed over her, making her nipples small and hard, despite the warm weather.

She found herself remembering how Andy was so enraptured with her breasts, how he had reacted the first time he had seen them, reflected in his shield. The new yearning she felt told her to be sure not to wear any human clothes the next time Andy visited. She would show him her chest as closely as he liked. Perhaps he would react that same way again?

---

Andy’s father, Chris, had his own suspicions about where his son had gone during his journey. Though he was not ashamed to have a son that he thought preferred the company of men, he certainly didn’t want to discuss it, or have it be known by others. It would only make things difficult for Andy in the future, when he took over the winery.

The moment Andy returned home, a smile plastered on his face, Chris was sure his suspicions had been confirmed. He was relieved he had insisted to his wife, Amy, that they not question Andy on his private affairs, using the excuse that he was a young man and that they should respect him as such.

Andy, for his part, was a bit shocked that his doting parents refrained from asking a single question about where he had been. He had rarely gone anywhere very far from the village on his own before. He thought that, perhaps, they were at last seeing him for what he was, a grown man.

That night, after Andy was certain his family had gone to sleep, he was finally free to try to placate what he had come to realize was a raging desire for (Y/N). Every night, during their entire journey, he had hidden the signs of his fascination from his traveling companions. But now, he took his longing in hand and stroked it feverishly, imagining (Y/N) somehow open to him, wanting and wet.

After he had spent himself desperately into a rag, he felt only the tiniest measure of relief. Realizing only then that his obsession was far more deeply rooted than he had previously guessed, he resolved to do his best to keep it to himself. Surely, he mused, nothing good could come of the fixation of a mortal vintner’s son on such an enthralling, ancient creature as (Y/N), a Gorgon. He treasured their friendship too much to mar it with his romantic inclinations. It was with thoughts of her floating through his consciousness that sleep found him.

Notes

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