Of Vice and Mino (WIP) (RGRE)


                                            > Be Epicura, at your friend Menoclea's birthday feast

                                            > You love the girl as much as the next minotaur, but this really isn't the sort of thing you agree with, or that agrees with you

                                            > You sip your lime-water as the crowd of celebrants roars and roils around you

                                            > Menoclea stumbles out of the chaos, miraculously not spilling her drink too much

                                            > "Epi! Have some wine, fuck a bull, or at least a young cow! Didn't you say something about living life to the fullest?"

                                            > You give her a flat look

                                            "Mena, how much does all this cost? How much did you have to work to afford all of this pageantry?"

                                            > Your friend rolls her eyes and waves a hand dismissively

                                            > "It's fine, it's not like I have to host a party every night."

                                            > You shake your head

                                            "That's not the point. Take our drinks, for an example. I usually drink plain water. Most days, you drink what, more wine?"

                                            > Mena shrugs

                                            > "Watered down some, yeah."

                                            > Sure, let's pretend you believe that

                                            "So tonight, you are drinking some especially fine wines, which cost you about three months' wages, and no doubt you are getting drunk in a slightly more pleasant manner than usual."

                                            > The birthday cow grins

                                            > " It tastes best in the company of friends."

                                            > You smile fondly at her

                                            > There's a reason you're still friends with her, the sappy cow

                                            "Indeed. But for me, this lime-water is just as delectable, in contrast to my plain diet. All for a few copper coins. This is how I live life to the fullest, satisfying my needs with the bare minimum, so that anything more is a wondrous luxury."

                                            > Mena blinks at you

                                            > "If you need money, I don't mind lending you s-"

                                            "It's a philosophical thing."

                                            > She frowns, then shrugs

                                            > "Right. So, let's get you some wondrous luxury then. I hear Flavia has a furless bull, wanna come with me and touch him?"

                                            > You are about to say no, but...

                                            "Furless? As in shaved?"

                                            > Mena leans in conspiratorially

                                            > "He only grows fur on his head... and down there."

                                            > She waggles her eyebrows salaciously

                                            > ...

                                            > Damn her to Tartarus, she's got you curious now

                                            "Very well, let's see him."


                                            > You find him being pestered by Casrotea, that irritating old 'ress

                                            > "What, then, constitutes lewdness?"

                                            > The hairless bull is an odd sight indeed

                                            > No muzzle, but a small apelike snout

                                            > Plantigrade legs

                                            > And a neat little thicket of fur above his bullhood

                                            > His erect bullhood

                                            > You quickly look back up as the bull speaks

                                            > "If you have not felt it by your age, then I doubt I could explain it to you."

                                            > Casrotea blushes slightly

                                            > "Oh, I am quite familiar with the feeling. You seem like an expert, so I wanted to get your expert opinion on what lewdness is."

                                            > Mena pulls you nearer to them, rolling her eyes

                                            > "Casrotea, that is the worst invitation to a tryst I have ever heard."

                                            > The bull laughs, eying Mena's teats

                                            > They're not the teats of a senatrix, but they are considerable

                                            > You unconsciously fold your arms below your own teats, a relatively modest set the size of grapefruit

                                            > Casrotea frowns at Mena

                                            > "I am merely trying to improve my understanding of things, but I see I shall not accomplish that here."

                                            > She strides away, and you are rather glad to see her go

                                            > The old cow is something of a parasite on the philosophical community, never making any positive declaration of principles, but always tearing down the works of others

                                            > Mena slaps your shoulder, and abruptly you realise that she just introduced herself

                                            > You bow to the bull, and once again glancing at his obvious arousal

                                            > You jerk back upright, wincing at how it jostles your teats

                                            "I am Epicura, philosopher. It is a pleasure to meet you."

                                            > He nods pleasantly, flatteringly admiring your chest

                                            > "Likewise. I am Anonymous, Flavia's contribution to the entertainment."

                                            > Mena steps closer to him, a lewd grin on her face

                                            > "Mind if I feel your chest? I've never touched a furless bull before."

                                            > Anonymous raises an eyebrow

                                            > "Only if I can touch yours."

                                            > You cannot believe your ears

                                            > The lewdness of this bull!

                                            > Mena is delighted, however

                                            > "Agreed!"

                                            > She runs her hands over the planes of his chest, mooing softly at the sensation

                                            > For his part, he reaches under her arms and jostles and squeezes her teats in his hands

                                            > It's so surreal, you almost can't believe how easy it is for this to happen

                                            > That's Mena for you, you suppose

                                            > As if hearing your thoughts, she beckons you over with a tilt of her head

                                            > "Come on, you gotta feel this!"

                                            > You hesitantly approach, looking at the bull's face for any sign of rejection

                                            "Do you mind if I..."

                                            > He smirks

                                            > "Same deal as your friend."

                                            > Your heart is beating rapidly now

                                            > You're going to do it

                                            > You're going to touch a bull and he...

                                            > Mena steps to the side, still running a hand over his firm chest

                                            > You reach out with a trembling hand

                                            > He's surprisingly warm to the touch, so smooth as to be almost slippery

                                            > Meanwhile, Anonymous' hand is gentle on your teat, slender fingers hefting your firm breast

                                            > You inhale with a hiss as his thumb rubs little circles around your nipple

                                            > You reflexively arch your back, leaning into his touch

                                            > He chuckles

                                            > "I think she likes it."

                                            > You breath heavily, legs trembling as he flicks your nipple under his thumb, his fingers kneading your tit

                                            "B-buck!"

                                            > You grip his forearm in one hand, for support and to feel the play of muscles under his skin as he works his magic on you

                                            > Your other hand slides down his belly, groping at his abs

                                            > Mena stares at Anonymous with a sultry gaze

                                            > She shamelessly strokes his bullhood with one finger

                                            > "Why don't we up the stakes a little?"

                                            > He grins at her

                                            > "What did you have in mind?"

                                            > Meanwhile, you are dangerously close to climax, your body hot with arousal

                                            > Your nipples are almost painfully sensitive

                                            > The heat in your loins feels like it is melting you from the inside out

                                            > You're panting, mooing softly, pleadingly

                                            > You don't hear what Mena says, but Anon responds by pinching your nipple

                                            > Your legs finally collapse as orgasm sweeps through you like a wave

                                            > You kneel, your thighs pressed together as your juices spill from you, dripping to the stone floor

                                            > You spend a long moment hunched over, wracked with pleasure at the feet of the furless bull

                                            > You finally look up at his amused expression, mirrored on Mena's face

                                            > You blush vividly in embarrassment and stagger back

                                            "Sorry, I..."

                                            > Why did you have to cum so quickly?

                                            > And just from getting your teat played with?

                                            > You feel your eyes fill with shameful tears

                                            > You turn and run back through the crowd, hoping no one sees the kind of state you're in

                                            > When you finally get home, you are completely wrung out

                                            > You collapse into your bed, wanting nothing more than to forget the whole evening


                                            > You wake up the next morning with a headache

                                            > You stagger over to the wash basin and drink a drought of the lukewarm water

                                            > It's a bad habit, but you don't really care right now

                                            > You feel a bit better once you are done, and use the basin for its intended purpose

                                            > After washing off the grime and sweat of the previous day, you spend the rest of the morning in your usual routine

                                            > The familiar actions are comforting, moving you along with austere dignity

                                            > You eat your simple morning meal, mind focussed on what you will speak of in the forum today

                                            > You have a duty to the citizens of the city, and you must not be unprepared

                                            > By the time you arrive at the forum, your well-disciplined mind has mostly repressed the shame of yesterday


                                            > You weave through the throng of taurs, surrounded by a low hum of conversation

                                            > You nod a greeting to several friends and acquaintances on your way to your usual spot

                                            > It's always a little gratifying, not to mention convenient, to have disciples that hold your place on the steps for you

                                            > You clasp their shoulders in thanks as you pass them, and settle down for some quality lecturing

                                            > As you speak, taurs of all walks of life gather around you

                                            > Perhaps not as many bearing the teats of high office, but a doctrine of restraint and thrift can't be too appealing to the rich and powerful

                                            >  Your eyes wander the crowd of listeners, unconsciously lingering on the few bull minos among them

                                            > Male visitors to the forum aren't exactly rare, but they are far from common

                                            > The male mind is far too focused on calving and the work of the home to contribute much to the general discourse, but males can certainly benefit from listening to it

                                            > Not to mention how they provide a pleasing sight for weary eyes

                                            > You bring your lecture to a close, mind wandering

                                            > A slight movement draws your eye to the broad chest of one of your bull listeners

                                            > You briefly imagine what it might feel like, before a question jolts you out of fantasy

                                            > You focus on the tauress, and answer

                                            > You don't want to set up rules that are too rigid, so you leave a certain amount of application of doctrine to your followers to decide for themselves

                                            > Nevertheless, you can still offer clarification and advice

                                            > Unfortunately, that means you spend about as much time on answering questions as lecturing

                                            > Your mind and eye wander once more, before falling upon another bull in the audience

                                            > His hands are large, his fingers thick and round

                                            > They would fit nicely in your holes, filling them with firm, surging-

                                            > You forcefully break the thread of that thought, and dedicate your mind yet again to the answering of some prosaic dilemma

                                            > You just know it will be a long day at the forum


                                            > Lunch is a simple affair, vegetables on a flatbread purchased from a stall

                                            > As you make your way through the streets, you find yourself distracted

                                            > You had hoped it would fade, but you are excruciatingly aware of each and every bull you pass by

                                            > Fantasizing brief, lewd acts before your eyes lose sight of the male

                                            > It's like you're sixteen again, flush with the desires of youth

                                            > The bathhouse is a welcome sight to your lust-weary mind

                                            > You enter, leaving your unadorned skirt and corded belt in one of many baskets

                                            > The first pool is empty, though a tauress hangs back, steeling herself

                                            > You give her an encouraging slap on the back, and take the marble steps down at a trot

                                            > Cold water surges up your legs, and it takes all of your self control not to yelp as it laps at your sex

                                            > You cannot help shivering as you dive deeper into the cold pool, until at last you are submerged to your shoulders

                                            > You hear some splashing behind you, followed by a grasp

                                            > You smile sympathetically, but you have another hurdle before you

                                            > You fill your lungs and plunge your head underwater

                                            > You break the surface almost immediately

                                            > If it weren't for the cow behind you, you'd be running to the next room

                                            > Instead, you climb up out of the pool, deliberately slow, maintaining your dignity

                                            > You walk to the doorway, shivering but upright

                                            > The next room is significantly more populated, with tauresses scattered about the pool and receiving massages on tables to the side

                                            > You barely notice the company, eyes focused on the pool

                                            > You slip into the lukewarm water and sigh

                                            > "Epicura? So sorry I missed you last night!"

                                            > You turn lazily in the water to find Flavia waving you over

                                            > Your heart sinks

                                            > You had hoped to avoid this longer, but...

                                            > You glance at her teats

                                            > She may be a matrician administer of public works and games, but she certainly has the... gravitas and ambition to rise to a higher rank

                                            > Certainly not a cow to snub for petty reasons

                                            > You smile and swim to her perch on the submerged stairs

                                            "Flavia, it's no fault of yours. I have never dealt well with parties, and some of the goings on were a bit much for me, so I went home early."

                                            > She hums smugly

                                            > Please don't

                                            > "I believe I may have heard something to that effect."

                                            > You sit stone still beside her, and say nothing

                                            > Flavia coos not unkindly, and wraps an arm around your shoulders

                                            > You are immediately aware of a heavy, warm weight of office against your arm

                                            > "Would you like to meet with Anonymous again? Alone, so you don't get drawn into Mena's competitiveness?"

                                            > You shake your head

                                            "I have had quite enough of that. I'd rather not embarrass myself in front of a bull again."

                                            > Flavia raises an eyebrow

                                            > "That's not what your teats are saying."

                                            > You glance down at your hardened nipples, just below the surface of the water

                                            > You try not to blush

                                            "I just got out of the cold pool."

                                            > "Mmhmm. Look, I can understand not wanting to face Anon just yet, but how about I introduce you to some bulls I know? A few of them are even virgins!"

                                            > You give her a flat stare, then stand up

                                            "I appreciate the thought, but it's better if I don't indulge in that sort of thing."

                                            > You stride toward the hot room, hoping for an escape

                                            > Judging by the sound of hoofsteps on tile behind you, your hope is in vain

                                            > You open the wooden door and are hit with a burst of hot, humid air

                                            > Fortunately, no one else is inside

                                            > You gingerly lower yourself into one of the steaming tubs, groaning in relief as the heat seeps into your muscles

                                            > Flavia closes the door behind her, and giggles at you

                                            > "I can see how you don't need a bull if this does it for you."

                                            > You glare at her, then flip her the clam with your two fingers

                                            > She ignores your bad temper, and slides into a nearby tub with a sigh

                                            > You spend a few long moments letting the heat relax your sore and tense flesh

                                            > You can feel her waiting for an explanation

                                            > And you really should explain yourself

                                            > But you just don't want to right now

                                            > "Sorry."

                                            > What

                                            "What?"

                                            > Flavia smiles apologetically

                                            > "I knew you were embarrassed, but I still bothered you about it. But I really do want to help, if you'll let me."

                                            > You exhale, long and slow

                                            "This entire morning, I've been having spontaneous sexual thoughts about every bull I saw. It's distracting. It's disrespectful. It's something I thought I outgrew years ago, and it's only started up again because I let myself follow Mena into debauchery."

                                            > Flavia tilts her head

                                            > "You're frustrated."

                                            > You nod

                                            "Very."

                                            > "Sexually frustrated. You had a little taste, and now you want more."

                                            > You frown at her

                                            "I masturbate. I can handle my sexual needs just fine myself. Having a luxury like Anon fondling my teat shouldn't make me more frustrated, I ought to have been satisfied afterwards."

                                            > She raises her eyebrows

                                            > "But you're not."

                                            "No."

                                            > Flavia chews her lip in thought

                                            > "Does your philosophy forbid marriage?"

                                            > You pause

                                            "No, marriage is a necessary part of stable society and family creation."

                                            > She leans against the side her tub, resting her chin on her crossed arms

                                            > "It sounds like sex, to create calves, is a need, not a luxury for married taurs."

                                            > You tilt your head back, turning her logic over in your thoughts

                                            > Obviously, this context of "need" is not the same context as food or water as a need

                                            > But then again, sex is an appetite of the body, not unlike hunger or thirst

                                            > You have had followers, in their zeal, strive to eat less than is healthy

                                            > It left them weak and sickly, and you had to personally correct their thinking

                                            > Looking back on the night before, and this morning, you cannot honestly deny that you were weak

                                            > You sigh in defeat

                                            "I do need to have real sex, don't I?"

                                            > Flavia chuckles

                                            > "Try not to sound so displeased at the prospect. Why don't you pick one of your devotees and have some fun?"

                                            > You snort

                                            "And abuse my position as a teacher of philosophy? I think not."

                                            > She hmmms skeptically

                                            > "Yeah, that's the problem. Not because you don't want them to find out their great teacher is a quickpump virgin."

                                            > You glare at her

                                            "Either way, not an option."

                                            > Flavia shrugs

                                            > "Well, maybe you should get your domestic slave to help you out. They aren't too unsightly, are they?"

                                            > You shake your head

                                            "Their appearance is no issue, because they do not exist."

                                            > Flavia straightens suddenly, her teats bursting from the water and jiggling in the air

                                            > You are momentarily distracted by the majestic quality of her surprise

                                            > "None at all? Tell me truly, Epicura, are you suffering financially? Are your devotees so ungrateful as to leave you unsupported?"

                                            > You wave away her concerns and a smile

                                            > It's always amusing to see how many taurs jump to that conclusion for any number of your behaviors

                                            "Far from it. I have an excess of five thousand drakpas. I don't have a domestic simply because there is so little I require to be done."

                                            > Flavia shakes her head, trying to wrap her mind around your life of minimums

                                            > In the end, she just leans back into the water and snorts

                                            > "I forget how strange all of you philosophers are, sometimes. How about this. After our baths here, I take you to see my domestics and artisans, and if any of them appeal to you, I'll have them sleep with you."

                                            > You look up at the steam obscured ceiling, considering her offer

                                            > You are still a little resistant to the idea of indulging yourself like that

                                            > Then again, it's not really indulging yourself, satisfying your needs without the extravagances of courtship

                                            "Alright. We'll take a look."

                                            > Flavia grins

                                            > "You won't regret it. Now, let's get out of this heat before we cook completely."

                                            > You chuckle and follow her back into the tepid room

                                            > The two of you approach the massage tables, and the griffons there bow towards you

                                            > You lay facedown on the table, as the blunted claws rub your body down with scented oils

                                            > You let yourself melt into their ministrations, turning over at a slight lifting pressure on your shoulder

                                            > You find yourself watching the griffon work, spreading your legs slightly so that they might get at your inner thighs

                                            > Eventually, they slather your teats in oil, taking care not to touch your nipples or squeeze your breasts

                                            > You've had massages like this hundreds of times, yet you find yourself becoming a little aroused

                                            > It's amusing, now, how quick your nipples are to harden

                                            > Nevertheless, you are glad when you and Flavia are done, dressed, and departing

                                            > It will be nice, to fix this weakness of yours


                                            > You walk beside Flavia in the halls of her estate, her arm wrapped around your shoulders

                                            > The prolonged contact makes you idly wonder if she has romantic intentions, even as she points out a particularly well-formed bull slave

                                            > You honestly aren't sure what you are looking for, but the looking itself is pleasant enough

                                            > The two of you stroll by an atrium garden, and you recognize the tauress who is shamelessly pawing at a young bull

                                            > Unfortunately, she recognizes you as well

                                            > "Epicura, never thought I'd see you here! Don't worry, Flavia will make a true hedonist of you yet."

                                            > You glare coldly at Aristippa

                                            "I am a true hedonist."

                                            > Flavia adopts a mock stern expression

                                            > "Now now, you should get along better, aren't you both philosphers?"

                                            > You snort

                                            "All the more reason to quarrel."

                                            > Flavia chuckles, gently pushing you onward

                                            > "That may be. Well, we'll stop interrupting your entertainment, Stippa. Have fun."

                                            > The shameless tauress grins

                                            > "No need to leave, I don't mind sharing if it means Epicura finally lives in the moment and gets a more fun stick shoved up her ass."

                                            > You ignore her, and stride away down the hall

                                            > Flavia catches up to you easily enough and sighs

                                            > "Sorry about that. I forgot she was here, or I would have steered you clear."

                                            > You shake your head

                                            "Let's not dwell on it, I'm sure you have more pleasant things in store."

                                            > Flavia smiles in relief

                                            > "Indeed I do, my friend. Come this way, I have a weaver with the most wonderful fingers..."


                                            > As you tour her home, you can't help but feel...

                                            > Reluctant?

                                            > Amidst all the finery, the bulls seem like yet one more luxury, and an expensive one at that

                                            > Should their seed be planted in you, there would be decades of hassle and stress in raising a child

                                            > And yet, you cannot deny your hunger for the gentle firmness of a bull

                                            > Troubled by these thoughts, a pert rump catches your eye

                                            > The simple skirt demurely obscures his bullhood, swaying as he sweeps

                                            > Your eyes trace up the subtly flexing back muscles, noting his narrow shoulders

                                            > You lean towards Flavia and whisper,

                                            "What is his name?"

                                            > You gesture towards the lithe bull that caught your eye

                                            > Flavia begins to smirk

                                            > "It's Pagida. I'll introduce you."

                                            > As she leads you towards him, you resign yourself to being Flavia's entertainment for this exchange

                                            > "Pagida! Come, greet my guest."

                                            > The bull turns around, clutching his broom to his chest

                                            > You study his androgynous face

                                            > "Yes, Mistress."

                                            > His... or is it her voice? Is a low tenor, or perhaps contralto

                                            > Pagida glances at your chest and bows to you

                                            > "Welcome, honored guest. May I be of service?"

                                            > You aren't sure what to say; how do you propose such a blatantly carnal arrangement?

                                            > The beginning is simple enough,

                                            "I am Epicura, and I have need of a..."

                                            > Flavia intervenes

                                            > "Bedchamber attendant. You will be compensated for your service, of course. Are you interested?"

                                            > Pagida's eyes flicker over your body, and you resist the urge to shift to a more flattering pose

                                            > Her, yes, her cheeks redden ever so slightly

                                            > "May I speak with you in private, honored Epicura? By your leave, mistress?"

                                            > Flavia grins

                                            > "By all means, don't let me get between you two. I'll just be in the antechamber down the hall, come and get me once you have had your fun or not."

                                            > Pagida leads you to a empty guestroom, sitting down on the bed with commendable grace, leaning her broom against the wall

                                            > You exhale slowly in relief as you join her, glad to give your hooves a rest

                                            > You set your hands on your knees

                                            "What did you wish to speak about?"

                                            > She looks down at her lap, smoothing out the wrinkles in the cloth

                                            > "I am a tauress, first of all."

                                            > You smile wryly

                                            "I figured that out."

                                            > She relaxes ever so slightly, and looks up to meet your gaze

                                            > "I have reached my majority, and my teats have stopped growing. I shall never rise above my station."

                                            > You nod gravely

                                            > There are tauresses who court promising young girls in hopes of grooming a friend in a high place

                                            "That is not my intent. Perhaps it will ease your mind if I explain my situation. My philospohy compels me to seek the bare necessities, and delicacies only sparingly."

                                            > Pagida raises her eyebrows, but remains silent

                                            > You cough, feeling your face start to warm

                                            "More relevantly, I have contented myself solely with masturbation to sate my lust. It worked well enough, until, well, do you know Anonymous?"

                                            > Pagida tilts her head, but nods

                                            > Then her eyes go wide

                                            > "Did you and he..."

                                            > You shake your head

                                            "I came during his foreplay, and fled. Ever since, I have been troubled by near constant lewd thoughts and desires."

                                            > She blushes, glancing at her lap, then your face

                                            > "Even now?"

                                            > You allow your eyes to rove over her lithe figure

                                            "Even now."

                                            > Pagida smiles shyly

                                            > "Then I shall serve you to the best of my  abilities."

                                            > Your heart quickens

                                            > You move, straddling her lap

                                            > She lies back on the sheets, raising her arms above her head, surrendering herself to you


                                            > You aren't entirely sure how long you lay with her

                                            > The sweet kisses, feverishly warm flesh, her delicate attention on your nethers, the feel of her firm yet deliciously tender body

                                            > It all runs together in a river of pleasure

                                            > You come to yourself, chest heaving after the last bout of lovemaking

                                            > Pagida lies curled up against your side, her slender fingers stroking the valley between your teats

                                            > It's just enough stimulation to keep you awake, but not enough to spark another session

                                            > However, the waneing light pouring through the courtyard window reminds you of your duties

                                            > With a sigh, you prop yourself up on your elbows

                                            "I have left your mistress waiting long enough, methinks."

                                            > Pagida hums in agreement

                                            > "All good things must end, I susppose."

                                            > You slide out of bed, feeling truly content in a way you have never known before

                                            > You turn back and hold out your hand to her

                                            "That may be, but I shall be happier knowing that this good thing will be again."

                                            > She smiles and takes your hand as she climbs out of bed

                                            > "And I as well."


                                            > After washing at the basin, you head out to find your gracious host once more

                                            > Flavia is true to her word, and sits in the antechamber, surrounded by scrolls and ink-stained reeds

                                            > You raise an eyebrow at the mess

                                            "Planning another party so soon?"

                                            > She looks up at you, keen eyes reading your face and body with practiced ease

                                            > "Well well well, I take it you and Pagida worked things out?"

                                            > You settle down on a nearby stool, keeping your expression bland through an effort of will

                                            "Indeed, I believe we will be able to meet each other's needs."

                                            > Flavia grins

                                            > "Hmm, seems she met your needs quite thoroughly. But to answer your question, I'm planning out what I want to do this Kronia. After all, Phanaea Celestia has deigned to visit dear humble Athenia that day."

                                            > You frown

                                            "That's less than a month away, and this is the first I've heard of it."

                                            > She shrugs

                                            > "Apparently she wanted it to be kept a secret, so only most of the aristocracy and half of the merchants know."

                                            > You sigh

                                            "Of course. But why tell me?"

                                            > Flavia rests her head on the palm of her hand and regards you seriously

                                            > "Because I would like to count you as a friend. Because you are the least likely to do something inappropriate. Because you have the teats and the influence to actually honor Phanaea Celestia's wishes, unlike nearly everyone else in Athenia."

                                            > Your cheeks grow warm at the praise and respect

                                            > Still, you must not forget who you are dealing with

                                            > You bow slightly to her, acknowledging her words

                                            "Thank you, but wouldn't my interference nullify your preparations?"

                                            > Flavia smirks

                                            > "Not at all. If you do well, we may very well be in a position to suckle from each other's teats."

                                            > You blush at the imagery, and at the implication of being her peer

                                            "I thought that's what Pagida was for."

                                            > Flavia laughs

                                            > "We can share. You have two tits, after all."