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"Show me," I rasp.
Steff guides my hand over her mound. Her legs part slightly, as if giving way for my touch. "The entrance to my body feels good when you push into it with your fingers." Her nose rubs against mine and her breath catches when I find the soft, slick entrance to her core and dip a finger inside. "Think of it like your cock."
"Then this will be disappointing for you. My cock is much bigger than my fingers."
She bites back a chuckle, rubbing her face against my neck as I touch her. I stroke inside her with my finger, learning her body. I'm fascinated by how she feels, and I imagine my cock pushing in instead of my finger, of the hot clench of her body around me. I like this…a lot.
"Where else?" I ask her, greedy for more. She is responding to me, but she is not wild with need like I was when she touched me.
"Women are different," she murmurs. "We need a little something different than a guy does." She tugs on my hand, pulling it back a little until she guides one of my fingers along the wet crease of her cunt. "There is a little spot here, a nub of flesh called the clit. If you touch it, it feels really, really good." When I find it and brush my fingers over it, she gasps,, her nails digging into my skin. "Almost too good."
"Is there such a thing?"
She bares her teeth when I touch her there again. "Sensitive," she manages. "Very…sensitive."
Ah. I understand now. A direct touch can feel like too much when she is aroused. It feels like that under the base of my tail when my cock is engorged. "What touches feel good, then?"
Steff's hand brushes against mine and then she takes my hand. Using my first finger, she begins to draw little circles around her nub. Her breathing quickens, and she rubs up against me. "This…feels really good." Her lips part, her eyes closing. "This with a finger inside me feels…amazing. Or with your hand on my breast. Or your mouth. All of it feels good." She smiles, opening her eyes to look at me. "Let me know if I'm being too bossy."
Bossy? I love that she is telling me exactly how to touch her. "This is perfect," I tell her. "You are perfect."
"Oh, good." She sounds breathless and distracted, her skin flushed and slightly damp with perspiration.
"Can I put my mouth on you again?" I ask, wondering if it is too much. I lean in and lick her jaw, desperate to taste her. When she nods, I capture her lips again and rub my fingers through her folds. She makes a hungry little sound, her hand spasming over mine. Her legs twitch, and I am fascinated. I touch her again, teasing her mouth even as I brush that little spot between her legs.
This time, she cries out softly, and her hips jerk.
"Shhh," I remind her, pleased that she is forgetting her own rules to be silent. "You must be quiet."
She nods, gasping, and I run my lips down her neck, my fingers teasing that spot between her legs that she likes so much. It makes me want to do more. So much more. She is such a glorious female, her figure full and beautiful, her teats bountiful. This must be why she hides them behind the band—so the other females do not envy her. It is the obvious answer to such silliness. Steff is kind and thoughtful. I know that from when we sat by the fire and she listened to everyone speaking, asking how they were feeling. She worries over all of them as if they are her family, and I am glad for that kind heart. She will be a good mother to Pak.
She will be an amazing mate to me, and perhaps I am greedy in that this excites me more than anything.
I want to rub her teats since she likes that so much, but I do not want to abandon the heat between her thighs. She is wet and slick where I rub her, and every time I graze the spot, she makes a soft noise in her throat. So no, my hand must stay. I consider this, pressing my mouth against her shoulder as I lie beside her, and then slide down a little more. Her nipples are tight, the tips flushed and pointing, and I wonder if I can put my mouth on them like I did her mouth.
One way to find out, I decide. Boldly, I slide lower, until I am practically hidden beneath the furs, and nuzzle at one of the full, rounded mounds of her teats. She whimpers low in her throat, and then her fingers are in my mane, clutching me to her teat as I run my lips over the peak. I want to figure out what she likes, and since my hand is teasing between her thighs, I must use the other to balance my weight so I do not crush her, I will use my mouth instead.
