An Awful Thing to Waste
“Well then, let’s make this a night when right things happen.”
I might just melt into nothingness, so warm and bubbly I am on the inside.
Hotkey removes her finger and props herself on an elbow, rolling further toward me. She grips my shoulder supportively, with all the delicacy as she showed the flower, and her eyelids glide shut as she leans in again.
But I’m already there to meet her halfway, and the breath of an elated sigh graces my cheeks. However foreign she may be, however strange she may seem, the emotion – the feeling – is the same. Unmistakeable. Indisputable. Beyond comparison. One hand sweeps through her mane to scratch behind her ear, and the other traces lines in her coat as it slides to her chest, the smooth fur like silk between my fingers. I’d normally have something more solid to fondle, but her blunted claws digging into my shirt tells me that she appreciates it nonetheless.
Her lips part and so do mine, and our tongues touch, explore each other’s teeth, share in unusual taste and aroma. I almost catch myself and pull back from it, but I know that if I do that, I might ruin the mood, think about this too much, and let the past spoil the future. Neither of us want that. So I close eyes and pretend – pretend that we met months ago, that she isn’t so different from me, and that we’ve always planned on exploring whether we can be more than friends.
It’s an idyllic fantasy. A fool’s dream. But it works, and I continue exploring with her.
After what feels like forever, she breaks the kiss and the spell I’m under with it, and inspects me with a flushed smile as she releases my shoulder. “One thing’s for certain: you’re a good kisser.”
I probably don’t look much better – my cheeks feel hot too, and not just from her heated breath. “I want you,” I mumble unsteadily, jaw trembling from the tension, licking my lips as I glance down at hers, only to return to those hypnotic amber eyes. “Please. I want this to mean something.”
“It will.” She gives me a tender peck on the nose. “It does. And I promise you, Johannes, you won’t regret this. I’ll make you feel like the stallion you are.”
I never thought I’d want to hear words like that, but I very nearly swoon because of them. She wants me, and I can only thank her for that – feel indebted to her; compelled to return the favour for all this… purpose she’s giving me. But I also know where this might lead if we don’t stop right now, if we keep listening to the urge that brought us to this moment. “Shouldn’t we go somewhere less… open?”
Hotkey pauses, thinking for a few long seconds, then bites her lip as her gaze wanders down my body. “Well, there’s my place… unless yours is closer.”
Her fangs capture my attention, so subtle and yet so tantalising. But I still have the sense of mind to shake my head. “It’s halfway across town.”
“So’s mine,” she purrs, locking eyes with me, foxy and provocative. “Can you wait that long?”
It’s a challenge. A dare. A chance to privately parade me through the streets, tease and toy with me until we reach our destination. But whether either of us want to admit it or not, there’s two sides to every coin. “Can you?”
Her eyes narrow, her smile widens – becomes more appraising. After a beat, her hand reaches out, lays itself upon the back of my neck, and she pulls me in to whisper into my ear: “I think we both know the answer to that.”
I shudder again, and then immediately sink into her, carried helplessly on the craving for a hug and to take a good, long whiff of her hair, or to share our breath once more, or something. But the result is the same: with a thrilled giggle, she wraps her arm around my waist and hauls me over to lie beside her on the grass, facing each other. And when the laughter fades, and after I’ve wiggled myself into a more comfortable position, she strokes my cheek with her thumb and watches me affectionately.
“You really are something special, aren’t you?” she says in a hushed tone – a secret between us. Or maybe she’s just thinking aloud, and I happen to be the lucky bystander who hears it. “Such a romantic. So sweet. So pure. It’s almost a shame to think of what we’re gonna do. Almost.”
Another reminder, another portent of how far I’m allowing myself to fall, and part of me screams that it shouldn’t be happening: not her, not here, and certainly not now. But I can’t stand the emptiness anymore. I need someone who… likes me. As more than just a friend. And if she’s willing to look past what I am… then isn’t it fair that I look past what she is too? “I’ve never done this outdoors before.”
Hotkey bows her neck and nuzzles her nose against mine, which fills my head and then my chest and stomach and every extremity with warmth. “There’s a first time for everything,” she observes, her voice so pleasant and melodious that it’s as if we’re talking about the weather. Then she pulls back a tad and takes off her glasses, and as I blink they vanish into thin air. “Just like magic, isn’t it?”
It appears that she's an enchantress in both senses of the word. “You’re magical.”
“Aw, you silver-tongued devil.” She plants another kiss on the tip of my nose, then pinches the frames of my own pair. “Can you see without these?”
I nod, and she takes them off too. “I mean it,” I continue, as if I hadn’t made the point clear enough. “You’re different. The moment I walked in there, and I saw you… I couldn’t stop looking at you. I didn’t know why… but I think I do now.”
My glasses disappear as well. “And why’s that?”
“Because you’re special too.”
Her brows rise and her smile shrinks a fraction, and her ears flick toward me. “You think so?”
“Absolutely.” I dart in and steal a swift, needy kiss from her – feeling our lips together is such a small, fleeting joy, but it’s like fireworks: exhilarating; terrifying and exciting all at once. And then I cup her cheek and stroke it with my thumb in kind. “And to think I had to travel across worlds to find you.”
She stares, astonished, then slowly shuts her mouth and smiles as her gaze travels lower. “Well then, we’d better make sure the trip was worth it.”
My heart skips another beat at that, my toes curl, my fingers clench. I’m growing restless, eager to snatch her up, hug her close and keep her with me always. The only thing I let myself do, however, is place a gentle kiss on her snout. But then I halt as I spy the treeline in the distance, and an old fear strikes me. “You think we’re safe here?”
Hotkey nods and rubs her cheek against mine, laying a hand over the exposed part of my waist, and taking one of mine into the other. “No one comes by here anymore. It’s just us. You, me, and nothing else.”
As well as my cheeks, my ears are starting to feel warm too, and I strengthen my grip on the hand holding mine as I peer at her from the corner of my eye, feeling the tug of a sly smirk. “You planned for this, didn’t you?”
She giggles, kisses my temple and shakes her head as she lifts it, beaming an amused grin down on me. “My plans end at asking someone if they want a good time. From there… well, I can try to influence the outcome, but I mostly see how things pan out.” She licks her lips, brushing her tongue under her fangs, and leans a bit closer. “Tonight, however… I think I can safely say we’ll both be getting extremely lucky.”
Even my teeth are beginning to chatter now. I’m fidgety everywhere and my heart is fluttering all over the place. A swim in the Arctic wouldn’t be enough to calm me down: I’d melt the whole icecap. “I think I’ve got a crush on you.”
She blithely hums, and then lifts her right hindleg into the air and she glances at herself with a meaningful, sultry smirk. “Care to make use of it?”
I stare at her uncovered loins and struggle to make sense of it; she’s baring herself for me. There isn’t much to see from this angle, but the shape of her spread thighs, the fertile valley between them, and the subtle mound of bare, dark flesh at the centre of it nearly takes my breath away. It certainly robs me of anything intelligent to say. Instead, I return to her with widening eyes, parting lips and burning cheeks, and an impassioned ache in my gut that begs me to love her however she wills.
I rush up to lock our mouths together, latch a hand behind her ear again and clasp the other around her nape, grasping at her mane, and smooch her deeply and fervidly as we trade places. She rolls onto her back, moaning in approval and satisfaction as we dance with our tongues, and I rise to my knees, gradually leaning over her.
A great wardrum thunders beneath my ribs, and I’m compelled to march with it. For as much as it pains me to leave her, to bid her lips farewell, I pull away from her muzzle, look her in the eyes as I peck her nose devotedly, then trail kisses down her chin and neck.
No words need be spoken, no sound but our heaving breath, and as I travel further and further down her stocky frame, taking in the wonderful, earthy aroma of her natural scent, past her barrel to her curvaceous midriff, I let her hair go and crawl alongside her. But it isn’t long before her body, her alien nature, to throw its first curveball at me, and I slow to a halt and gawk.
Four small, pale teats protruding from her lower belly, just above the waistline.
“…Wow. Well, uh… that’s different.”
She giggles, splaying her fingers over her stomach, then hums contentedly as she peers down at herself. “Being part griffon has some… interesting perks. You’re welcome to try them out if you like.”
I continue gaping for a few seconds more, but although they’re intriguing, they’re also perhaps a tad too foreign for me just yet. What really catches my attention, however, aside from the delicious amount of pudge around her abdomen and the alluring thickness of her flanks and thighs, is the faint twitch coming from the mound I’d seen previously.
Scooting past her raised hindlegs to a rump so well-built and scrumptiously voluptuous that I let out a ragged, heated, suddenly famished lungful of air, I almost miss what I originally came to see: the winking, swollen entrance of her passage. It flashes her slickened, vividly red interior with every contraction, and I shudder at the sight. “Does it usually do that?”
“When I’m excited.” Hotkey bites her lip as a hand sneaks lower, and a claw circles one of her nipples. “You’ve been doing a fantastic job on that count, I must say.”
It doesn’t make sense for me to like this as much as I do – for the ache in my gut to grow so hot that it catches light – because I’ve never seen this kind of thing before, nor even thought what her stuff might resemble. A horse’s backside, obviously, but to observe it… the teardrop silhouette, the puckered ring of dark flesh below it, the way her tail flicks and twitches to and fro… I have to wonder why I’m not aghast. More than that, why I'm practically salivating for it.
Conversely, perhaps it’s for the best that I never learn the answer to that.
I inch closer on my knees, moistening my lips and gulping as I rest a palm on her inner left thigh, measuring the muscle beneath. They’re both large enough to suffocate me. “Did I ever mention that I like big girls?”
“No,” she replies, closing her eyes and laying her head on the ground, and breaking into an ecstatic grin as she pinches and rubs the same nipple. “It’s nice to feel appreciated, though.”
A mischievous smirk spreads across my face as I spy an opportunity. “Oh, you’re gonna feel a lot more than that.” I place the other palm to her nethers and gently slide it up, dragging the middle finger behind and dipping it between the folds just a little, all the way to her winking pearl.
Her hindlegs jerk and her breath hitches, and then she exhales in a low, throaty moan. If she kicked, really kicked, I’d be done for, but either I haven’t jilled her up enough or she just has that level of self-control. I’m not complaining either way; I’m thirsty for more, to see and hear and feel more, and I do that by carefully pressing into her bean, which radiates warmth, with a circling motion.
Hotkey moans, arching her back for a moment as her wings quiver. When she finishes revelling in the new sensation, and just as my heart calms itself, she settles on the grass again and lifts her head, locking half-lidded eyes with me, biting her lip again in the anticipation of pleasure to come.
The look must be waking something inside me, because I let out a long, heated breath, and I slide the hand on her thigh to the one fondling herself, taking it into my grasp, giving it an amatory squeeze. I never break eye contact with her. “You are… insanely amazing.”
She hums again and leans forward as she pulls my hand closer, planting a kiss on it, then guides it to her leftmost mounds, cooing as she rubs my palm into them.
Despite the aversion mere seconds ago, now I can’t help picking up the slack and taking the reins myself – if she was enjoying it, so should I. The massage grows firmer, my fingers dig in and tease her sensitive nubs, and very soon she doesn’t need to maneuver me anymore, instead groping and fondling the other pair, making her hindlegs tense and shiver. As she grunts and gnaws on her lip, her free hand claws at the grass and her snatch winks with increased fervor, prompting me to play with it more.
I wedge my fingertips inside and spread her apart, just to test the figurative waters, and receive a pleasured sigh for it. The reaction sends me into a giddy, intoxicating high, and that’s when I know that I’ve lost control on this slippery slope; I’m going to love this girl as she’s never been loved before. And really, why can’t we enjoy each other? All of life’s problems are a world away from us.
Her lower lips come together in a quiet, wet smack as I plunge two fingers in right down to the knuckle, and she squeaks in surprise. The canal is bewitchingly slick, and I chastise myself for not thinking to bury my face in there sooner. The tart, heady musk of her arousal certainly isn’t helping. But I press on, stroking the ceiling in a ‘come hither’ motion, and feeling the fire in my gut burst into a sweltering blaze as she shuts her eyes and stiffens at the touch, groaning.
“Not… not too much,” she cautions, teetering on the brink of composure, then grips my wrist meets my gaze with a flustered smirk. “I’d still like that main course, if you think you have it in you.”
My efforts slow to a rather sudden halt and a brief, faint pang of embarrassment scintillates up my spine. I chuckle bashfully and pull my hand from her crotch with a soft schlick, and her hindlegs tense and relax one final time. “Sorry. I didn’t think I’d get that… zealous.” Shuffling closer until my knees are pressed against her rump, I hug her left thigh close and suck on my anointed fingers. The taste is different – bitter as a lemon – but no less ambrosial. “You’re just so… so…”
“Amazing?”
“Electrifying.”
Hotkey giggles, letting go of my wrist and patting the back of my hand. “I’m glad you think so. And you… you’re doing well too.”
That fills me to the brim with warmth, tingling in my abdomen, forcing me to ask myself where she’s been all my life, and how come I got this lucky tonight. A hushed, stuttered breath escapes me, and I kiss her leg in lieu of her mouth, absolutely incapable of ending this embrace; I’m afraid I’ll never want to let her go. And as I continue hugging her tightly, I marvel at her intimates, all of them. If her body is a temple, I’d yearn for the chance to worship it every day. “What would you like to do now?”
The breeze blows again, but I barely feel it, protected by this drunken, gratified daze I’ve found myself in, and the stream continues to flow as if everything were still tranquil – as if everything were right. And everything is. For all of a month and a half, I’ve never been this happy. But there’s silence between us.
I look to her, a curious, slightly anxious pang coursing through my system.
But all I see is a passionate flame in her eyes, burning brighter and fiercer with every passing instant. Her pupils have enlarged. In a flash, she grabs my arm close to the shoulder, hauls me toward her, tearing me from her leg, and effectively pins me to the ground as she flips over and sits on my lap. I barely had enough time to yelp before her weight bears down on my pelvis – and I’m sure she’s holding back for my sake – and then as I open my mouth to question what she’s doing, she invades it with her tongue and smashes our lips together, moaning into me and breathing heavily through her nose.
Shock and excitement blare through every nerve in my body, prickling at my scalp, and I’m suddenly glad that she’d thought to take off our glasses. But as much as I loved the thrill, being thrown about like a ragdoll isn’t exactly what I had in mind, and I held the kiss as I pressed a palm against her chest and gently pushed her away, the other hand on her flank. She needs to know that I’m not rejecting her. “No, no,” I gasp once the assault has ended, grinning. “Sorry. Not… not like that, please. But… wow. You’re really that desperate?”
Hotkey blinks, her pupils returning to their moderately dilated state, then takes a deep, calming breath and giggles demurely. “Apologies,” she says, wiping her mouth clear a second time, and waving off a thin strand of saliva connecting us. “Estrus can make me… a little zealous too. And you’ve been making yourself a very attractive mate.”
A cast iron anvil drops on my stomach, and a solid brick smacks me upside the head. “Estrus?” I emptily parrot, worried that it means precisely what I know it means. “You’re on your cycle?”
“Mm-hmm. But don’t worry. Even if we could conceive, nothing would come of it. I took care of that years ago.” She brings a hand to her belly and holds it there, as if she could feel something growing inside of her. “No foals until I’m ready. It’s fun to pretend, though, if you’re into that sort of thing.”
My jaw struggles to close itself, the pit in my gut widening to encompass my entire torso, like the ground is opening up to swallow me whole. I’m nervous. Not so much for the risk, or lack of it, but because this was something I could not discuss with my ex. “Are you?”
Her attention returns to me, and her smile becomes more carnal and salacious. “Why do you think I got an implant in the first place?”
My jaw clamps shut with an audible clack of my teeth, and my heart skips a beat for the third time tonight. Any more of that and I’m liable to suffer cardiac arrest.
“Estrus makes it all feel so much better too,” she purrs, trailing the same hand down, down, past her loins and between her legs, but no further. “So much more intense. And nothing, nothing, compares to the real deal. Wouldn’t you agree?”
I’m tight in the chest and in the pants, and flushed as all hell about it, warmth rising to my cheeks, brows, ears and forehead. “I wouldn’t know,” I mutter shakily.
“Oh?” Her ears perk up as the randy tone wilts, hand lifting from herself to hanging in the air. She cocks her head and quirks an eyebrow concernedly. “Is this your… first time?”
I blink, then fight against the lump in my throat and shake my head. “No, no, I’m twenty-four, no. I’ve just… never done it raw before.”
“Ah.” She nods understandingly, and her expression turns heartfelt and sincere. And then, carefully, she cups the back of my neck with the same hand, leans forward, and shares a long, deep, slow and tender kiss. There’s no tongue this time, and I practically melt at its touch, blowing a ragged, elated sigh through my nose. When she pulls away, gazing into me as if I’m the most precious thing in all the land to her… I seriously have to wonder if I’m in heaven. “There’s nothing to worry about. You’ll like it, I promise. I’ll take you to the moon and back.”
And further, the way things are going. So, so much further. “Let me love you.”
She appraises me, beaming, then slides the other hand down to my hip and gradually rocks onto her flank, taking me with her and holding me close as she rolls once more onto her back. From there, she lets go, and watches me with a smitten, encouraging look in her eyes as she lays her palms on her stomach again. That’s my cue.
Now on my knees between her legs, and jittery with a raging, itching, downright nearly painful desire to make her feel as she makes me feel, I push off from her lower reaches and find my balance. Then, focussing solely on her and her small, radiant smile, I undo the button and zipper of my trousers, yank down my briefs, shiver a little as I’m exposed to the night air, line myself up and gently slip inside.
Her eyes snap shut and her breath hitches through her nose, tensing every joint and muscle she has – even her wings quiver, and her flanks and rear stiffen and brace themselves as her tail hikes into the earth with a solid thump. A long, stuttered moan flushes some of the tension from her body, but it strains for a complete release as I sink deeper and deeper into her.
My torso trembles as I bottom out, feeling her flex around me. Feeling her wink into my loins. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, to feel the heat directly against me, the slickness of her folds, the way her rump is so firm to my thighs. To know that I’m what she’s enjoying, and that she wants this too. But more than anything, the knowledge that she wants me, chose me… it wounds me that there isn’t more I can do for her; her wish would be my command.
“Yesssss,” she murmurs, opening her eyes once again and looking at me with a gratified sense of pride, as if she’s happy for me; as if I’d somehow conquered my greatest fear. “Finally. You sure know what you're doing. I haven’t been this worked up in ages.”
My gaze wanders to her neck, barrel and stomach, and I slide a palm out to her abdomen reverently, skimming it between the mounds of her teats. There’s no way in the world I deserve this, no way I can possibly be everything she wants – everything she needs. “I’m sorry I’m… not as big as you’re probably used to.”
She giggles, and I feel it ripple through her, even within her passage. “Size doesn’t matter, dear,” she soothes, propping herself on an elbow and reaching the other hand down to lay atop mine comfortingly. “It’s what you do with it that counts. And you… have done more than enough. So much more.” She lifts my hand and squeezes it. “I’m glad we met. I’m glad we’re doing this.”
“Me too,” I reply unconsciously, pulling her hand closer to lean forward and kiss it. “Me too.”
Hotkey hums, letting go and caressing my cheek with her fingertips, then steals a long, meaningful glance at her nethers, and returns to me with a sultry look. “So,” she says in an eager, hungry undertone as she gently pats her belly, “wanna make this mare a momma?”
I gape at her in awe, almost completely incapable of believing what I’m hearing. But I am hearing it, and it beckons to something deep within me, far beneath the surface – something hidden, secret – something you’re never supposed to share with anyone unless you know, for certain, that they’re someone you trust. Someone you love. Not just now but for years to come.
We’ve barely known each other for the better part of half of a night, but I feel as if we could spend eternity together, and I’d thank her for every timeless second of it.
My jaw trembles as I struggle for something, anything to say – to express how much she means to me, how I wish we’d met sooner, done all of this sooner – but nothing comes. Perhaps it’s for the best that way; less chance to ruin the moment. Instead, I let out a quiet, enraptured sigh and smile shakily, then look down to our union, only to have the smile shrink as I notice my shirt is in the way.
Without a second thought, I yank it by the hem up and over my head, then thread my arms through the sleeves and toss it aside. Next, I pull my pants and underwear down a little further so nothing might come between us, then refocus on Hotkey to measure her reaction.
Her eyes have widened slightly, and her ears have perked up in surprise. “Won't you get cold?”
I blink. It hadn’t occurred to me just how chilly the night air is growing, and even through the heat emanating from my core, I can feel the faint tingle of goosebumps threatening to form. Nevertheless, I shake my head and wave the question away. “I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?”
I nod, watching myself as I plant my hands on either of her hips, in the convenient nook between her flanks, thighs and stomach. “Trust me,” I say with a newfound sense of confidence, catching a glimpse of her winking pearl before returning to her gaze, “you’re all the warmth I need.”
The concerned look doesn’t fade immediately, but her gratefulness slowly overtakes it, and soon the roguish twinkle in her eye resurfaces. “Well then, stud,” she purrs, glancing down at herself once more as she rubs her belly, “don’t keep me waiting. Show me how good you can make us both feel.”
What can I do but comply?
Pulling my hips back, I gradually draw myself out, only to sink myself in again with a shudder and a low, guttural groan – that single movement, repeated over and over… I didn’t know how much I missed it. Her twitching passage makes the experience all the more pleasant; stimulating. “Hotkey, you’re…” I utter, only to close my eyes and drift off into the bliss. “Oh god…”
She hums in satisfaction and tightens her hindlegs, close to gripping me around my waist.
That spurs me into another rocking motion, and the soft, succulent sound of our nethers connecting is like music to my ears – raw, primal, real. Very soon, more than my hips, I move my whole body in time with each tender thrust, building into an easy rhythm. My fingers dig in, searching for a better grip; I need her to know how thankful I am. How genuinely I care for her. How much she means to me.
One of her hands rests on mine to wordlessly urge me onwards, to maintain the pace, and I willingly oblige with an ardent, all-consuming passion. And always, her folds welcome me into their lubricous embrace. She wants this too – needs this – as badly as I do, and a rolling wave of broiling warmth emanates from my core and into my chest and head, making everything feel so much heavier, so much more incandescent.
“Please, Key…” I mumble through the darkness, the humidity, the painful cold of the night air against my bare skin, and open my eyes to see her, “please…”
She meets my gaze with heavy-lidded eyes, the claws of her free hand clamped between her teeth, but she’s too content to summon anything more attentive than a delighted smile.
The fulfilment on her face sends my heart aflutter again, and I hilt and push myself as far into her sublime depths. Her canal constricts and I groan and shudder from it, but when the momentary taste of nirvana fades, I bring my own hand away from hers and lay it on her stomach for support, leaning over and reaching out for her.
She props herself on an elbow once more, lifting herself up and bowing closer to clasp my open palm to her cheek, beaming at me fondly, longingly, admiringly.
I can only stare in wonderment, and implore her at barely a whisper’s pitch:
“Please make love with me.”
Her expression melts into adoration, cupping my cheek too, and then she gently pulls me in for a kiss, deep and fervid and passionate. It’s incomparable. Unparalleled. Perfect. And when her hindlegs close in on my waist a little further, and her inner walls tighten around me, we both grunt and moan and dance with our tongues once again in unison, sharing our heated breath, relishing the intensity, the desire, the lust.
I don’t deserve her. She doesn’t deserve me. But everything is just too right to let go.
“Thank you…” I say with a low, quiet, relieved sigh as the kiss is broken, and the spike of joy that surges through me rocks my hips back and drives them into her a few forceful times. The slap of flesh speaks to the risqué side of me, but her soft, cute whimpering whenever we collide fills me with even more warmth, and soon I’ve settled into the same rhythm I’d left behind. “Thank you…”
Her smile has slackened, but it hasn’t disappeared, and she slides her hand from my neck down to the small of my back, its coarse hide leaving an itchy trail in my skin. When she finds her grip, however, she begins gyrating her hips too – slow and tentative at first, then building speed to match my cadence, until we’re in consummate synch.
The aroma of her musk is everywhere now, underlying every other scent, and I can scarcely hear the ambience around us, too enthralled by the noises we’re making, hooked on them. Eventually, the excitement boiling within me dilutes into an enjoyable simmer, and we both fall into a smoother, calmer tempo, but no less thrilling.
Hotkey glances down at herself and hums, biting her lip once more, then sacrifices her grip to lay her palm over her loins, as if to feel me inside her, fingers splayed either side of her entrance, teasing our shared libido by simply being there. And seeing what she’s doing makes me want to kiss her again – to translate this emotion, this desire, into action.
But that’s not the only thing I notice, and the more we rock into each other, the more we seek that longed-for connection together, the more obvious it becomes. Wetness. The sodden clap of arousal. It shines in the moonlight too, licking at her lower lips, coating me to the crotch, dribbling further down, making every push effortless and silky. I could lose myself in her for hours, but I know what this means – what it foreshadows.
“Are you… getting close?” I ask, hilting myself again as I look her in the eyes.
She grunts, then shakes her head and briefly smirks. “Not yet, but… mmm… getting there.” She toys with her nethers for a short while, seeming to marvel at how damp we’ve both become, then meets my gaze and cups my cheek once more with the same hand. “If you are, though… don’t hold back. It usually gets me off too.”
I’m starting to lose count of how many beats my heart has skipped; it’s simply too good to be true. But whether it’s a lie or an exaggeration, I’m not in the mood to care: it’s exactly what the hunger within me needed to hear, and I lean in to give her another bouquet of kisses – pecks and snogs and smooches alike. As it ends, I chuckle anxiously, and she with me, as we glance down to our union, and the pleasant, honestly rather cute twitching of her nub. “So then… I guess you’re easily excited?”
“Not always. You’re helping quite a bit.”
And I couldn’t be more honoured, and I grab her hips to start thrusting into her once again. “It’s not my fault you’re perfect.”
She giggles, ears flattening as the echo reaches her inner walls. But then she widens her eyes and her gaze grows unfocussed, stealing a silent gasp as she finds her grip on the small of my back a second time. “There,” she whispers, hindlegs tightening their grip around my waist, and her passage around my length. “Right there. Keep going.”
To hear her so fraught, so tense with the craving… to feel her body beg for more… I almost lose composure entirely. Almost. “Like this?” I query, trying to visualise it, to calculate it – the angle, the speed, whatever it is that I’ve suddenly done right. “Faster? Slower?”
Her eyes shut and she grits her teeth behind closed lips, curling and twisting into a strained grin, as if the expression alone requires too much concentration. It’s invigorating to watch. “Faster…”
So I pick up the pace, and she tries to match it. Her breathing quickens to compensate, and she moans through her nose on every exhalation. “Harder?”
She nods, and as I obey, rocking into her more urgently, eager to please, her moans heighten into squeaks of indulgence, revelling in the sensation.
They’re both a blessing and a curse: a sign of how greatly she’s enjoying this, beseeching me for more, for everything I can give, and it fills me with gratitude, but it plays ever so treacherously on the strings twisting in my core. If I don’t keep my stamina in check, I might tire out before she does, or worse, finish too soon. And still the wet, meaty whack of my thighs against her rump, my crotch into hers, is too delicious to falter, too delightful to stop – an itch that needs scratching, and I never realised how badly.
I lean forward and hug myself to her, reaching around her sides and beneath her wings, gripping the hide between them. I close my eyes and press my cheek to her barrel, and I grin at the pounding rhythm of her heartbeat, the stuttered rise and fall of her chest, the earthly scent of her fur, the potent stench of sex that fills the air. It couldn’t be more sensational, more perfect, and I hump into her with renewed, ecstatic vigour.
She hugs me close too, wrapping both arms and wings around me and slowly falling to the ground. It shelters me from the cold, but also tells me that I’ve struck a welcome note with her – plucked the right strings in just the right ways. More so when she locks her legs behind me, keeping me inside, pulling me further, deeper within her. As I thrust, her abdomen tenses, and her squeaks grow higher and softer in pitch until… after the longest, most motionless couple of seconds of my life… it happens.
The rapture.
With a sudden, massive gasp, she arches her back and squeezes me with vicelike strength as her belly trembles and spasms. Her wings fling open and slap the earth, and her hindlegs release me and thud and grind into the ground, rocking and rolling her hips and humping into me.
My teeth clench as I ride it all out, hilted within her clenching, quivering, drenched confines. It’s too soon, I tell myself, too soon; it can’t end like this when we’d barely gotten started. So I hold her tightly too, grunting when a tremor ripples through her and shakes me to the core, and it’s all I can do to not give in and rut us both senseless.
After what feels like minutes, and more than a few moments where I worried her claws might break the skin, contractions begin to subside and her breathing begins to settle. Her whole body relaxes, the tension lessening to only a few small twitches and shivers here and there, and she gradually returns to lying flat on her back. A minute later and quiet, weary panting is the new normal, not that either of us had made a great deal of noise.
That just makes her all the more fantastic: such a big girl, with such a dainty climax.
I silently chuckle to myself upon her heaving chest, and then I feel her gently start to stroke my bare shoulder – so odd for a hand to be so coarse and yet so careful. I open my eyes and look up at her.
Her gaze is half-lidded and affectionate. Her smile is small and satisfied. “You… were amazing. You are amazing. It’s been… years since I’ve peaked that hard.” She tenderly sweeps my hair back. She looks so beautiful with the azalea glowing in her mane, bathing her face in its warm, mellow light. “How about you?”
I stare at her, awestruck, practically mesmerised. It isn’t until I blink that I finally process what she said, and I realise that I should say something in reply. “You’re magnificently gorgeous.”
Yet another giggle bubbles up and her smile widens to a grin, and I’m too stunned to summon one of my own. She hums afterwards and dotingly cocks her head, then a slight wrinkle in her brows mars her pristine face as she glances down to our union and gives her rear tiny shake. Her flanks and inner folds flex too, and I wince at the thrill of it. “Didn’t you… finish?”
I hesitate for a moment, fearing that I’d disappointed her, then gulp down the anxious lump in my throat and shake my head. “I didn’t want to. Not yet.” Lifting myself up a little, I kiss her stomach and gently caress her side. “I want… more for you. More… of you.”
Her expression grows curious, intrigued, and perhaps a tad confused.
That probably didn’t sound too intelligent anyway. I hoist myself from her, palms either side of her… wonderfully rounded belly – neither overweight nor toned, but pleasantly plump. “Is there something we can do to make it special?” I wonder aloud, almost subconsciously, shifting focus from her suddenly quite attractive abdomen to her eyes. “Like, really special?”
Her smile shines through once more, comforting as a ray of sunlight peeking over the horizon at the break of dawn. “It’s already special. You made it special.”
Sweet heavens above, I could marry this girl. I could marry her and be the happiest man alive – no mountain too tall, no ocean to vast; come rain or hail I’d be there for her. But when I’m done swooning in the image of us sailing on a yacht together in tropical seas, I remember that we’re, in fact, alone in a grove at midnight, and we’re both in a compromising, stimulating position.
And then it hits me, just as a new breeze wafts through and chills the thin sheen of sweat on my brow and shoulders. “What about… positions?” I ask, briefly pausing to shiver and look down at us, trying to get my head back in the game. “Is this your favourite? A-a-are there others?”
“…This is my favourite, yes,” she answers, a soft, concerned frown crossing her features. “I like being able to see each other. But… perhaps we should take this someplace warmer?”
“No. Not yet.” I bow forward and gently push my hips into her, eliciting a quiet gasp as I kiss her stomach . And when I return to her, her worries have vanished, replaced by flustered approval. “Just one more time, please. And this time… together. And then you can take me wherever you like.”
Her smile grows vaguely sly and faintly hungry, as a fox might if it caught a mouse unawares, but her overall expression exudes adulation, grateful that I’d say such a thing. She raises her barrel from the ground again and locks her lips with mine – an action we both moan into – and when it ends, there's a fond, cheeky twinkle in her stunningly exquisite eyes. “I think we can do that. But I’m so going mother hen on you if you get cold because of this!”
“Please do.”
She giggles again – a sound I’m coming to love – and then heaves herself up and shifts her hindquarters rearward, adjusting her grip on me. At first, I’m afraid I might slip out, and I clasp my arms around her with a nonplussed whimper as if my life depends on it. Considering her strength, it might. But rather than toss me about, she simply eases me into a kneeling position and sits on her haunches, resting in my lap. It’s an unusual angle, and there’s a lot of tension in her flanks to keep her full weight off, but she somehow manages it and beams that affectionate, heartwarming smile of hers down on me.
I’m struck dumb by it, mouth agape and brows high. Seated like this, she towers over me, daunts me, and yet I love her all the same – wish to please her, satisfy her, all the same.
“You get comfortable,” she purrs, combing a hand through my hair as the other takes hold of my shoulder, and then she slowly starts rolling her hips back and forth, closing her eyes to focus on the sensation. “I’ll start this time.”
My own hands start wandering her body again, combing trails through her coat. My left fiddles with the fluff on her chest, my right discovers her rump and grasps it, drawing a contented hum from her. “When I say… we switch back,” I mumble, voice quavering from the stimulation. “I wanna do it your way. Missionary.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way…”
And that comment alone fills me with even more excitement – that if she really wanted it, might not take no for an answer. But she hasn’t. She won’t. She could overpower me, but chooses not to; she’d rather share this with someone. With me. And that fact makes this the most touching, most meaningful, most fulfilling moment in what may as well be forever.
How could this not be? The stars aligned tonight and brought us together. And already I can feel the tension at my core begin to resurface; the fire inside wouldn’t be calmed so easily. “Have I mentioned how amazing you are?”
Her pace falters as she giggles yet again, then bows and pokes my nose with hers. “Flattery gets you everywhere, doesn’t it? But thank you.” She plants a kiss on my forehead and gyrates her hips, moaning as I enter her from newer, more experimental angles. “I can… mmm… I can see us doing this again very soon.”
My fingers dig into her, the hand on her chest reaching around and grabbing her withers, and I start humping into her once more. Slow at first, as these things tend to be, then picking up speed, force, momentum, until the wet, familiar clap of our nethers connecting drives away any other sound, any other feeling, and I find myself lost in her – lost with her.
I kiss the side of her muzzle, feel myself soar higher than the clouds themselves, and hug her even closer as I murmur in her ear:
“I love you…”
“…Show me.”
Peering at her from the corner of my narrowed eye, squinting through this blissful fog of pleasure, I meet her gaze and feel an icy river cascade down my spine, rocking me to the core. Not only had I said something I shouldn’t have, but she’d said something equally perverse, and her pinned ears and tiddly grin confirms it.
“Show me,” Hotkey repeats at a needy whisper’s pitch, leaning forward and wrapping an arm around my midsection to the opposite side, the other lowering itself to lay a palm between her teats. “Breed me. Please.”
I stare at her, motionless with disbelief, exhilaration stirring within my core, my heart, reverberating throughout my entire being. Even my fingers tingle with anticipation. I glance between her face and twitching vulva, and it’s as if it finally dawns on me how real this is, how attuned we are to each other, how right it feels to be with her like this. Chill winds be damned, we’re making love, and whatever she wants I’ll gladly give.
I hump into her with refound stamina, harder and louder than before, huffing with every thrust.
She bites her lip again and moans through her nose as her passage tightens around me, its entrance winking all the while. Her wings quiver. Her tail flicks and swishes about in her enthusiasm, yet goes completely stiff as the hand just below her belly slides down a little further to stroke and fondle and play with her pearl. That’s when she starts whimpering, working her whole body into the act, and strengthening her hold on be, both within herself and with her claws.
She’s desperate. So am I, and the weight, the tension, the restless, broiling sensation in my abdomen doubles, triples, quadruples with each cycle of this compulsive tempo. It won’t be long before the inevitable. “You ready?”
Her earls perk up, and although her eyes are closed, she nods frantically. “Mm-hmm.”
I linger on her, caught in the moment – the assent, the hesitation, the perfect balance of pain and pleasure, and all so many emotions heaped into one. But I feel the rumble approaching; the threshold has been reached. There’s no turning away from this, and I press my face to her barrel as I muster the courage to surrender to it.
“…Okay,” I croak, shakily patting her withers. “Okay, now.”
It takes her a second to register, but soon she flops onto her back with a solid thud, taking me with her, and hooks her hindlegs around me.
I grunt as she grinds me into her crotch, bottoming out, deeper than I think I’ve ever gone, but instinct and impulse quickly takes over and I doggedly pump into her, one hand on her hip, the other beckoning her closer.
Without skipping a beat, she raises herself from the grass and mashes our lips together. And it’s with her touch, her sensual embrace, that the pressure inside me releases, welling up frown down below and yanking me further into her.
Warmth pours forth. It spurts, it flows, it spurts again, and I yelp with relief as it happens, and shudder and grow weak in the knees and stomach, light in the chest, as her slick, velvety walls constrict and spasm.
She cries out too, legs taut and trembling, breaking the kiss to gasp and then to dive back in for another and another, moaning as we share in the ecstasy. And all the while, we hold each other steady at the shoulders, hilted, carried high on the euphoria, the joy, the pure, visceral passion of climax.
I start humping once more, desperate to give her all I have, to give her what she desires – deeper, further, closer to that final barrier, where she wants it all to go. But I can only do so much, and soon the river has lessened to a stream, and I’ve lost all my strength. The adrenaline fades and I collapse on top of her, utterly exhausted, hot and cold at once.
She holds me close for a few moments longer as the quaking subsides, then slowly eases her grip and lays her head on the grass with a final, stuttered, jubilant sigh. And together, we stay like that, panting heavily, sleek and messy with sweat, basking in the afterglow, the body heat, the disjointed rhythm of our breathing.
Time wanders by, the world around us gradually taking shape – the water, the wind, the willow and surrounding trees, and the glowing azaleas that dapple the clearing in specks of light. They remind me of the one in her hair, and I languidly drag my cheek across her barrel to rest my chin on her chest, looking up at her in a dazed state of wonderment.
Hotkey meets me with a lazy, delighted grin.
I linger on her, lost in her wonderfully exotic gaze, then feel a slight sense of pride bubble into a chuckle. “Well… congrats,” I say with a coy, elated smirk, “you’re gonna be a momma soon.”
She giggles, then peers down at herself. “Maybe. Best make sure again later.”
“Oh, Key…” I hoarsely murmur, rubbing my hands along her sides, “as many times as you like.”
With another, more throaty giggle, she taps my nose with a fingertip. “I’m definitely keeping you.” A new gust billows through the glade as she speaks and I shiver from it; it doesn’t go unnoticed. “And good timing too. You’d better not get sick thanks to this stunt of yours, mister.”
“My stunt?” I retort, laughing breathlessly. “You’re to blame too, don’t you think?”
“And all it took was a few wiggles of the old hips.”
“No.” I shake my head and lift myself from her, then reach out to cup and caress her cheek once more. “It was you. Everything about you. Your eyes, your lips, your… Everything. You.”
Something flitters across her face – a fleeting emotion that disappears as soon it arrives – but she bows toward me and shares yet another, marginally less passionate kiss. Nevertheless, it stokes the dwindling flames at my core, and she squeaks and tenses up as I start moving within her again. “Wait,” she utters, looking down in astonishment. “Wait, didn’t you just—”
“I did.” The dull ache in my thighs, loins and length, however, curb my enthusiasm, causing me to slow to a defeated, disappointing halt. “I just thought there might be some juice left in me.”
There’s an anxious flicker in her eyes. “Is there?”
Whether she’s keen or concerned, I can’t tell, but there’s no use denying the obvious. “Sorry,” I reply with a deflated sigh, wearily shaking my head. “Gimme five.”
Hotkey remains stunned for a moment, blinking, but then her expression grows softer, kindlier, and her wings unfurl and swaddle me, shrouding me in a thin veil of warmth. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Johannes. That was incredible. But we really should head to my place, then, in the meantime.”
Her praise sends a little extra heat into my cheeks and ears, but I mock-pout and peer through the gloom to our now sopping union. Going flaccid has always taken a while for me, and her twitching nethers aren’t helping. “That means pulling out, though…”
“All good things must come to an end,” she remarks in a similarly dissatisfied tone, then curls a finger under my chin and pulls me into her gaze once more. An alluring smirk has graced her muzzle, and she dips closer to lick at my lips and nose teasingly. “Don’t worry, you can go back in when we’re both nice and comfy. Share a bed and rrrrrut the night away.”
I return the smirk, giddy from the offer, then hold both cheeks as I kiss her again, long since losing the tally for how many we’ve given each other. And as I kiss, I gently rock into her – once, twice, just for good measure – then break away and slip out with a quiet gasp, shuffling back on my knees. Lathered in a mixture of fluids, my privates sting in the cool night air and I hastily cover them up and stuff them into my briefs. It’s gross, but there aren’t any bathrooms nearby to get cleaned up in.
Yet despite the discomfort… there’s also a dash of pride, especially when I spy the wetness coating her entrance, and a trail of milky white dribbling out.
“Wow. We did that. Us.”
“Indeed,” she hums, looking at and patting her belly as her wings settle at her sides again. “Well, mostly you, but still, indeed.” With an inward chuckle that transforms into a strained groan, she extends her arms and legs as she rolls onto her stomach, then gets to all fours and stretches like a cat, presenting her rump, tail high. Her nub winks, the dark, sodden flesh around it flexing, and a small amount of our merged essence leaks onto the grass. And then she lowers her tail and stands tall, smugly peering over her shoulder at me. “Now, about that bed…”
I gape at her in awe, and wonder why in God’s name life has to be so cruel; to bless her with such vigour and grant me oh so little. Perhaps if I were in a more conscious state of mind, I’d ask to eat her out – one for the road, as they say, never mind the taste – but my mouth curls into a flimsy grin and moves on its own. “Room enough for two?”
Hotkey wheels about and levels her neck, stepping closer until the tips of our noses touch. Her smirk widens to a smile. “I’d say so.”
With a gratified huff, another flutter of the heart fizzles through me like a silent rain, or the distant rumble of thunder. I could kiss her again, recite a thousand words to describe her picturesque beauty – her eyes, her mane, her cute little fangs, her entire body from tufted ears to flowing tail – but it would never be enough. We’d already sealed our bond anyhow.
I lower my attention and start pulling up my pants. Damp patches dapple the legs, but I suppose that was unavoidable. Still, I can’t help wondering if we could’ve been more careful, and hope they don’t stain before we’re indoors.
But then comes the ripple of fabric through the air, and I look up to see Hotkey draping a wool blanket over my shoulders. As the shock sinks in, she pulls my glasses into existence and offers them to me, before sitting on her haunches and doing the same with her other hand, producing her own specs from thin air.
Fastening the zipper and button of my trousers in stunned silence, I blink with widening eyes, then tentatively accept and slide my frames into their rightful place. “How do you do that?”
“I’ll tell you in the morning.” She replaces her half-frames and beams candidly, the shine of the flower in her hair glinting off the lenses, then gets up and saunters across the grass for my shirt. “For now, let’s just take another walk together.” She retrieves it and swings around, holding it out for me once she’s close enough, and her voice adopts a sultry undertone. “Explore the city, avoid the crowds… see if we can’t resist each other before we get back home.”
My teeth are chattering. Not from the cold, but my nerves – the emotional rollercoaster I’ve ridden from the instant I walked through the Lucky Tap’s door. It’s had its ups, it’s had its downs, but now that I’m here, kneeling before her with my heart and soul on a silver platter… I realise that there’s nothing to regret. We found each other, gave ourselves to one another, gloried in the fantasy that only couples should. I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect night.
This is what I wanted.
She’s what I've been searching for.
“Coming, Johannes?”
I stare for just a little while longer, savouring her splendour, her radiance, then gently clasp her outstretched hand between both of mine, ignoring the shirt, and sigh serenely. “For you, Key… always.”