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tour,” I said, loving the idea of it. “And come on, there’s a museum back that way, and—”

“Barbecue sauce… No? Dammit, I was hoping to make you forget about all that.”

I laughed. “Steph, how often are we going to be here? Not very! Come on.”

“You’re saying you can get this,” she gestured at herself, “all the time. Is that what I hear?”

“Can’t I?”

She frowned, but nodded. “Of course. Fine. One ice cream, then we go.”

We finished our food, got a soft serve and a box of ribs and corn bread to go, and made our way out to the front. Looking over the map of Gettysburg, though, I quickly realized we would need to drive.

“On it,” a voice said, and we turned to see Megha there dangling a key fob. She wore a gift shop dress, hair neatly done up in her buns. “Ready?”

“Where’d you come from?” I asked, teasingly. “Thought maybe you were going to leave.”

“No, you didn’t.” She led us to the van, where she had a tourist map ready to go, spots already marked.

“When did you have time for all this?” Steph asked.

“First, you two take forever to eat.”

“We stopped by the museum,” I noted. “Stuff like that.”

She winked, motioned for us to get in, and started driving us around, giving us a tour as if she had been at this for years. Apparently, she had learned to drive in her years as a prisoner.

For me, the trip was heaven. We stopped at the battlefield from the night before, first, finding a place called Little Round Top, and a statue there that said it was of General Warren.

“Metal,” Megha noted, looking over the statue. “Too bad. Could’ve used him in the fight last night.”

“I actually might have been able to make that happen,” I said. At their confused looks, I put my hand on the statue and used my transmutation power to make it turn and look at them, then wink.

Quickly returning the statue to the way we had found it before a group of incoming tourists noticed anything, I chuckled.

“Your magic sometimes scares me,” Steph said.

“Jealous, is what she is,” Megha added. “Honestly, so am I.”

“There’s so much I haven’t learned how to do yet,” I noted. “Shapeshifting like Glitonea does, for example, could be fun.”

“I’ll teach you,” Glitonea’s voice came from the crowd, and I turned to see her and Mizoa walking our way. Both wore summer dresses clearly bought from the tourist shop, although Glitonea’s didn’t cover all her runes so they still showed like tattoos all over her. It was kind of hot.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Saw that you all came out this way, and figured we’d see if there was trouble,” Mizoa said, eyes searching the battlefield and trees below.

I laughed. “Sightseeing, actually.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Allow me.” We spent the next couple of hours seeing more sights while I explained to them what I knew of the battles, reading most of it from the information boards at the locations. We stopped by a graveyard, and Mizoa paused at one of the graves, then checked a few more.

“Why the crescent moon?” she asked.

I looked, seeing the moon with star on them. “Maybe a Muslim thing?”

She considered this, then turned to Glitonea with excitement. “The symbol of the moon was on the empty box.”

Glitonea frowned. “And you think it has to do with the Muslim religion, or…?”

“No! Not related, but it got me thinking. Aerona was damn close to the gold stone, absorbed it, right? I think there’s something to this—to the gargoyles, traveling at night, and—” mused Mizoa.

“Shit!”

“I feel like I’m missing something here,” I complained.

Glitonea turned to me, beaming. “Khonsu was a god in Ancient Egypt, watching over travelers at night. And he was also the god of the moon.”

“We think there might be some connection there, based on the box,” Mizoa added. “It was empty, but there might be other clues at the temple of Khonsu. In Egypt.”

“You want to go to Egypt?” I asked.

“It’s just a hunch. For now.”

We agreed to drop off Mizoa and Glitonea at the tourist shop, as they had work to do. The three of us wanted to keep enjoying our day of relaxation, though. That came in the form of stopping at a mini-golf place and grabbing some baklava. Megha, for once, was out of her league. She didn’t have a clue how to play, but did a great job holding the club suggestively.

And, when we decided it was too hot and we needed a break, the two used some of the extra barbecue sauce in the back of the van. A quick wiping me down with hand-wipes, then a line of sauce along my shaft. Steph there, grabbing my ass and lapping it up, then Megha pressing her lips to my tip before licking up Steph’s leftovers. It was sexy as hell, but I couldn’t help but keep thinking, ‘Please don’t bite, please don’t bite,’ as, I mean, it was a sausage with barbecue. How could they not? They did great in that regard, though, and soon ignored the sauce, taking turns going down on me, licking between my legs, my balls, and each other.

“I want to fuck you,” I said, trying to maneuver them up.

“Next time,” Steph said, and kissed Megha briefly while continuing to stroke my cock. “Right now, I want to taste you, to feel you unleash in my mouth.”

“Mmmm.” Megha ran a hand down Steph’s back, then up under her dress to finger her. “And I want to watch.”

So, she did, biting her lip and caressing us both as she watched Steph bring me to the brink of climax, pull it out, give me one final stroke so that my cum shot up into her mouth—and then she dove back down on it to finish the job.

She continued until I was shaking, my eyes almost barely able to stay open, and then Megha was there, kissing me, filling me full of energy. I opened my eyes to see her hands in

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