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Freya giggles again, her big breasts swaying with the movement.
“Hmmm, who would give you cat-shaped oven mitts for Christmas? Was in an aunt or grand-aunt? Someone over seventy, I’m sure.”
Actually, they were from a woman I dated who had a thing for furries. And I don’t mean that she had a thing for cats as pets. I mean that she liked acting as a cat in a sexual way. It’s weird, and at first I was willing to tolerate it because she was cute, and because I’m open-minded. At the very least, it was worth it to explore the lifestyle a bit.
But the furry lifestyle wasn’t really my thing. My ex would dress up in a skintight catsuit, paint whiskers on her face, and put a pair of plush ears on her head. Then came the best part – I often was allowed to insert an anal plug into her big butt, which had a fluffy tail dangling from the end. With that done, she’d crawl around on her hands and knees, acting like a cat and doing cat-like things, such as purring, lapping at a bowl of cream, and rubbing herself against my leg.
But dealing with a human cat gets old after a while, and somewhat tiresome too. Other than the anal plug, the lifestyle wasn’t particularly sexy because I’m not interested in eating from a plate on the ground, nor am I interested in taking her for “walks” on a leash. But my ex was into it, and after she dragged me to one too many “furry conventions” (yes, these things exist), I had to pull the plug on our relationship and give her the boot. She wasn’t too upset however, because I think she started immediately dating a dog-furry that she’d met at the latest convention. This guy liked being a Dalmatian and literally painted black spots on his face and body, in addition to sporting his own butt-plug tail. Hey, whatever floats your boat, but no one’s putting that in my ass.
But this is too much information for Freya, so I just smile.
“The mitts are from my Aunt Gertrude,” I fib in a smooth tone. “She has a thing for cat-themed everything.”
Freya giggles.
“Oh, you mean like cat salt and pepper shakers and such?”
I nod, continuing the white lie.
“Exactly. And cat-shaped clocks, cat-shaped cookies, and cat-shaped everything.” But then I change the subject because even if these are harmless lies, I don’t want to get myself into a sticky trap that I can’t get out of. “So how are you feeling?” I ask, surveying her curvy form. “Are you okay after … well, everything?”
This is a legitimate question because I took Freya every which way until Sunday. I claimed all of her holes yesterday, and then did it all over again. We coupled frenetically, and to be honest, I had no idea that I could go that long or hard, or that I could come so many times with so much seed. This woman brings out the best of me, for sure.
“Yes, I feel great,” Freya smiles brightly before leading me to the living room to sit. “But how are you? Did I wear you out? You did a lot of work, big boy.”
I grunt while lowering myself onto the sofa.
“I’m fine. I ate a big breakfast, so I’ll be okay. But did all that help your nausea?”
Freya smiles prettily, crossing her hands primly on her knee.
“Yes, absolutely,” she smiles. “I’ll be good for a good long while too, after the work-out I got yesterday. Of course, that means I’ll be good until dinner,” she adds with a wink.
I growl, my cock twitching at her insinuation.
“Only until dinner? I thought getting drilled hard in the butt would last a solid twenty-four hours at least.”
She’s not bothered by my crude language.
“Oh no,” Freya replies airily. “I need it more often than that. I need it at least twice day in my back hole to keep the nausea away. Otherwise, I feel sick,” she says with a mock-pout.
At that, I throw my head back and laugh.
“But sweetheart, do you have a regular partner? I take it you don’t have a boyfriend, but maybe the father of the baby?” I ask. “Or at least a fuckbuddy to help you through these periods?”
Freya bites her lip, her look thoughtful.
“Well, not exactly,” she hedges.
I immediately realize where I’ve gone wrong.
“It’s toys, isn’t it?” I ask in a low voice. “You’ve been fucking your ass using dildos and butt plugs, haven’t you? Let me see.”
Freya flaps her hands at me, laughing merrily.
“OMG, no! Well, not right now at least. The truth is that I’ve tried toys in the past, and they’re okay but not great. It’s hard for me to come using battery-operated boyfriends, and I think it’s because they’re just pieces of electronic equipment that don’t really get me to the next level. What I’ve found works best is a man. A partner. A guy who’ll give it to me deep in my bottom.”
I stare at her, my cock growing hard.
