Chapter 2:
Katara and Zuko had made out before.
They'd made out, kissed, and touched each other. (Yes, he'd felt her up).
But that did, by no means, mean that he was ready for this.
He had yet to see his girlfriend (now his wife) naked. So he was not ready for this.
Suddenly he had been thrust into the position, that high responsibility condemns, of having to... to perform a sacred ritual, which involved nudity.
He hadn't even seen her naked yet!
Of course, Zuko had expected nudity on his wedding night (he'd been looking quite forward to it, in fact—what horny 19 year old guy wouldn't?)
But, somehow, he'd expected the nudity to be a bit more... casual. Gradual. Sensual. Loving.
Not an awkward performance of a century-old ritual that Katara had had yet to learn whereabouts of until five minutes prior to having to perform it.
Being a Fire Lord was a busy and time-consuming job—it took over his whole life. And being his topmost advisor, Katara knew this. She, too, was busy up to her knees in paper on most hours of the day.
It was hard to pursue a relationship when both were so busy all the time.
So, Fire Lord Zuko had only gotten to second base. The most he'd done was feel her up.
Though Zuko and Katara were romantically interested in one another, this in no way meant that they had had the time to actually get past early stages of the relationship.
They were just lucky the Fire Sages had called them up at this time for marriage. At least now they had every reason and whereabout to actually have a relationship.
Didn't change the fact though, that the Fire Lord was still 19 years old, sitting cross-legged and face to face across from a pretty 18-year-old girl.
Who he was supposed to breastfeed from.
She seemed to be taking it very well—the fact that they'd have to do this. But he hadn't tackled the other part of the ceremony yet. Which was all his responsibility, of course.
But after living in a ship full of men for three years of his life, during the most crucial years of adolescence, Zuko was a pretty shy guy when it came down to it.
But, he thought he'd go about it with the diplomacy of a Fire Lord.
Katara had taught him this herself: never act as if anything is wrong, bluff your way through all the way, act if you know whats going on.
He'd take Katara's words to heart (he had gotten pretty good at practicing her advice anyhow, such was the life of a very young Fire Lord), and act as if nothing was wrong.
"Katara, you can.. get yourself ready over there," he said, pointing a crook behind a corner of the vast room. He was hazarding a guess, but if this room was a replica of the throne room, there would be a small chamber off to the side.
Katara could be there, while he... While he... did that part of the ritual.
Katara cleared her throat, also taking on that diplomatic farce—they both understood how awkward the situation that was suddenly thrust upon them was—and nodded deftly.
Zuko breathed a deep sigh of relief that she hadn't questioned him further as she got up off the bed and wandered her way to the area he'd pointed towards. It was probably because the situation was so uncomfortable, that she didn't question anything further. Because heaven knew that Katara questioned everything.
The truth of the matter was that he'd have to cum into a small ceremonial silver pot—to supposedly clear his passageways of anything un-pure before taking in her breastmilk. And he didn't want to do this in front of Katara.
A century later, the idea that it was necessary so that the fluid of intake could properly find itself in his ejaculation fluid later, came as unbelievably silly to each and any proper scientist. But the Fire Sages were not scientists and would probably sneak an inquisitive glance later to see whether or not it had been done properly. So he hadto do it anyway.
Eyes closed, Zuko took another deep tumultuous breath, looking down at that alter full of ceremonial whatnots and bowls after walking towards the alter.
He saw the only silver one—which the fire sages had told him to do it in—and glanced down into it.
He closed his eyes once again and brought up an image of Katara with her robes astrew.
As modern as he was, Zuko had still been raised in the Fire Palace of archaic wisdom and kimono-attired women. And although he could appreciate the finer nuances of modern-day women's wear, he treasured his pre-adolescent fetish of kimonos.
Perhaps it was because before he had begun his voyage at the tender age of 14, the vast majority of the women he had been exposed to had been dressed in such a way. And it was not until he was 17 and officially disowned by the Fire Lord, that he had met women in the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes and even the Fire Nation who did not wear kimonos.
So although he could appreciate the women's wear of today, he would always keep a sliver of a secret attraction to the visage of an undressed kimono.
He imagined Katara, a kimono falling apart from her chest—revealing her shoulders, the gentle sweep of her collarbones, her face a flushed pink in ecstasy, her eyes closed and sighing.
His own ceremonial underclothes were suddenly beginning to feel a bit hot for him, so standing over the hallway in the alter, he loosened the first to layers and dropped them to the floor so that he was left in the plain back calf-length pants he usually wore underneath his robes.
He closed his eyes tight and focused on the image he'd called up.
He dared to imagine her hands pushing the robes apart farther, revealing the gentle swell of her tanned breast. And then she'd stopped and lift her knees up instead.
Zuko lifted his left arm so his left forearm could lean against the silver stone pillar inside the small house of an alter. He stationed himself right above the cool stone silver bowl rising up from the floor.
As his fantasies started getting the best of him, he hurriedly pushed down his pants and loincloths and, clenching his jaw, he began to stroke it dearly.
He pushed his face deep into his raised forearm, eyes closed, as he stroked and caressed his penis with his other hand over the bowl.
A low groan ejaculated from his mouth and he suddenly began to shudder. As his strokes grew faster and more hurried and rushed, white cum flew from his penis-head steadily, coating his fingers and palms as he continued stroking it.
Unbeknownst to him, Katara watched on from afar in morbid fascination.
The shudder wracking throughout her husband's entire body, his shoulders shaking, let it known to her that he was going through an intense moment.
But... but all that white fluid—the sperm—there was so much of it coming from him!
Even as he kept on stroking, it continued flowing out.
He was pouring it out onto that silver bowl stationed on the floor right in front of him, and then she realized that Zuko had wanted some privacy when he had silently pointed out the existence of that room.
But Katara's breasts were aching—full of milk—and she wasn't in the mood to sit still quietly.
What was there to "get ready for" anyhow?
So she had come, wandering out, only to be graced with the presence of her handsome husband, leaning over a ceremonial cup and against a pillar, stroking himself.
When he had finished—the fluid finally stopped—he lifted himself up off the pillar and removed his forearm from it. His eyes looking a bit dazed and his face a bit red, he still was unaware of Katara sitting off to the side of the bed, and looked down around him to gather up his robes and replace them on his skin and body.
He quickly shoved them all, leaving all but the topmost layer that he had been wearing on the bed.
He knew for a fact of reason that the number of robes worn during an sacred Fire Ritual event (such as a wedding) had only to do with the number of ceremonial proceedings that should occur.
He had on one extra robe than Katara. For this one.
The heavy outer robe had been for the wedding ceremony. The one after it had been shed by him right now, as he had been done performing this task.
He had three layers left on him. The first ontop with which to perform the milking segment. The second to bring with him to the wedding dinner. And the last of which for the final segment of the Fire Lady's ritual.
Zuko redressed himself, putting back on all but the first robe he had initially shed, and turned to the bed to see Katara already sitting there.
His good cheek tinged pink as he realized she might have been watching him for the latter part of the ceremony.
But then he realized that this was bad enough—and she knew it—so whatever.
Taking in another deep breath, he walked over to the bed again, pulling his shoulders back to feign confidence the way Katara had always told him to.
He tried to ignore the twinkling shine of amusement in Katara's eyes; he had taken off one part of his robes, so she knew this had been a ritual.
She was only laughing because he had tried to hide it from her out of shyness. So despite his best efforts to quell it, his face grew with heat once again.
He cleared his throat again.
"So.. Um." He wasn't sure how to go about getting on with another part of the ceremony...
Katara, as sensible as she always was and realizing the point he was about to go on and make, brought down the remaining three layers of her robes down.
And Zuko couldn't take her eyes off of her as she did so. She was dressed in several layers of traditional kimono outfitting.
His main fantasy was coming true right in front of his eyes. He had to remember to close his mouth, which had fallen slightly in his wonder.
"So. Um," he repeated in a noticeably higher pitched voice now.
Katara was a beautiful 18-year-old girl. He knew it. Haru knew it. Sokka knew it. Her dad knew it.
Every male with testosterone would probably be able to recognize it.
She was thin, lithe, with luxuriously soft skin, delicate features, and a soft-rounded nose.
And now her breasts were huge. They had always been the perfect size for her—he had obviously noticed, as would any other guy—but now they were large, accentuated a small waist.
So, he, like any other guy would be, was turned on.
After a long moment of just staring at her exposed breasts he looked up to her face in surprise.
"Zuko, I've helped birth babies. Animal babies and people babies. I don't know if you know that when the child does not feed well, the mothers suffer," Katara ground out. It was not exactly fun admitting to the fact that her breasts were downright aching from weight and tension, "Because it's actually quite uncomfortable when the milk just stays there."
Blinking fast a few more times, trying to clear out the post-coital haze from his mind as well as his new raging hard-on, Zuko jumped up once her words finally registered.
She was annoyed because her breasts were hurting.
And there was one way to get it to stop hurting and that was precisely him.
Panicked with surprise, Zuko hurriedly sat back down on the bed from his standing position and faced her, his brows furrowed and both worry and panic.
"Wait, I'm sorry—"
Katara sighed, rolling her eyes. He had stood there for a good 4 minutes just staring at them.
"Okay, well then.."
Zuko bit his lip and looked back down to her tits. He gulped deeply.
He had no opposition to doing this. But.. the fact that she might mind?
But.. but she was obviously uncaring about that aspect... So he might as well go with it... Right?
He took a deep breath and lent forward, capturing a nipple into his mouth.
Katara, as annoyed as she was, hadn't expected that so suddenly and had to bite her lip suddenly to overcome the sudden gasp of awareness that had risen from her throat.
As Zuko started sucking a little bit, she hid the mewls rising in her throat—but suddenly he stopped.
Lifting his head from where he was bent, Zuko sat back up again and awkwardly looked at her, shifting his glance back down to her right breast every few seconds before raising his pupils back up to her head awkwardly.
"Uhm... Nothings happening," he said inadequately.
Normally, Katara would've been annoyed with the stupidity of the statement—of course nothing was coming out yet. But overcome with the sudden sensations that he had just wrought upon her, quietness somehow clouded her.
"You're supposed to suckle on them for a bit before it starts coming out," she instructed then patiently.
She lifted both her hands up to her left breast, which Zuko had not touched, and lifted the mound up higher by the bottom with her left hand as she brought her right hand to the areolas.
As Zuko watched her slowly start to kneeding her own breast and caressing the erect nipple, his erection grew hard and his eyes became entranced.
Before he knew it, a thin gush of white milk came out.
Katara stopped then stopped pulling. But he kept staring.
After an awkward moment, Zuko finally shook from the daze.
He turned back to Katara's and cleared his throat.
"Okay."
He bent his back once again over her upright torso and placed his mouth over the nipple. He tried to emulate the caressing motions she had performed with her fingers on her other nipple and swore he heard a sudden, light gasp from above him as he did so.
Before long, and a lot of kneading, he was suddenly faced with a spurt. Katara tensed underneath him as the milk began coming out under his attentive suckling, which grew fervent and enthusiastic not after long.
Finding the brushes of fluid against the back of his throat—as well as the taste of it—quite a pleasant, Zuko groaned sensually before suddenly grabbing the back of her waist in both of his hands and pulling them underneath him so that they both lay on the bed instead of sitting up on it.
He found the position preferential, his face buried within her breasts.
Katara looked down at the young man with his cheek lying between her two full breasts with his face turned to suckle on one.
His suckling enticed a certain type of insanely ridiculous relief through her chest, and she watched him suckle on her skin as she brought her hand up to the mess of black hair on her chest and stroked his hair softly. Milk dribbled down his chin in a line as he earnestly sucked on her nipples, his eyes closed, to draw out the clear, white fluid and quench his throat.
The curious dropping sensation from her breast, coupled with the sudden tension in her abdomen and the strangely erotic feeling of his soft dark sprouts of hair sliding through her fingers, led her to bite her lip and pull her neck back up as a particular hard suck from his mouth led her to arch her back completely and shudder in pleasure.
Surprised at the sudden outburst in response to a hard suck, Zuko brought his head up and looked at her, his hair utterly mussed. But what he saw on her face made him feel as if his erection couldn't get any harder if possible, even if he tried.
Biting his lip and willing himself to calm down a bit, the taste of her breastmilk covering each and every inch of his inner mouth, he returned to her chest—her breathing now deep and heavy—to try his mouth on the other breast.
When he placed his mouth on it, Katara—now caught within a feeling she couldn't quite describe or name, but many would often call ecstasy—audibly moaned, which only encouraged Zuko to suck harder onto it, so coax out some more of those groans from her.
As he suckled on her newly, he brought up another hand to the breast left unattended and caressed it softly to pleasure her, making sure not to put too much pressure on the nipple
With his arms wrapped around her waist and her mouth on her breasts, his head hugged to her arched chest with her own arms, the two were dissolved in the newfound sensations of teenagers when—
"Fire Lord Zu—ko—"
Zuko lifted his heard from her chest suddenly, his arms circling her bared chest to protect her from the light falling in from the door, as he turned his head back to see who was at the door in sheer and growing fury.
Placing one arm over her breast and nipples, Zuko got up and made sure to hover to cover her breasts, before encouraging her body to a different direction from the men at the door.
He got up then, walking over the vast length of the throne-room sized stadium, his blood red robes billowing in fury. He stomped with his fists clenched and growing fury in his eyes.
Who would dare disrupt the Fire Lord?
Not only was Zuko an expectably horny19-year old guy, he was also Fire Lord—with power and no privacy. This ultimately meant that the few moments he got to have to relieve himself of his hormonal needs—were moments he would murder if interrupted.
And much less walking into his unclothed Katara, whom he was lathering with kisses and sweet caresses. Not them.
So it was the accumulation of all of those precedences that lead the furious Zuko over to the oblivious and dumb men over by the door, and punch them with his rounded fist.
The fact that an unclothed Katara was lying over his shoulder...
He swiftly shut the door in their faces and turned back.
It had made his blood boil.
He was Fire Lord Zuko. A horny 19 year old who was trying to get it in with his gorgeous girlfriend—with beautiful tits— even if he was currently conducting an age-old ceremonial ritual.
No one had the right to stop him.
A/N: This might be a three/four-shot
Review if you'd like to see more! ;)
