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But oh!
Definitely—
Not—
Oh God!
Not fictional. Oh God! Oh-oh-oh!
I start heaving and shuddering on the table, my thighs shaking and my toes pointing toward the ceiling as all the feelings inside me galvanize, and the volcano deep within me starts to erupt—
I grab his horns and ride his face through my orgasm.
And he sucks and slurps and licks me until I’m a broken, wet, slippery mass left shuddering on the table.
Only then does he stand, swipe his forearm against his sex-slicked jaw, and declare, “Good meal. Now we fuck.”
Chapter Eleven
MONSTER
Things are going well with my consort’s training.
She shudders beneath me like a female should, her legs open and her eyes awash with want for me.
Beyond that, her scent sings for me to fuck her.
She is staring at the ceiling, still seemingly lost in the pleasure I have brought her. That is good. I will keep her in a pleasure-hazed state. I like that for my consort.
And… an idea has come into my head that before meeting her I had rejected on sight.
But feeling her warm rump against me in bed all last night, I began to think man-thoughts. Creator-Father thoughts.
As if I might want… offspring.
Which startled me and kept me awake the second half of the night. Even as I put the collar around her neck that I had once worn for many years.
But I did mean what I said to her. Only cowards use force.
I am glad I unlocked it and freed her. See what luscious things resulted.
Well, that, and she is not yet ready to see the basement.
If you implant her with your seedling, and it grows in her belly, surely it will make her heart kinder toward what is in the basement?
I frown down at her.
Will she yet hate me? And what grows in her belly, should I manage to put it there, will she hate it also?
The thought infuriates me. And so perhaps I am less gentle than I ought to be as I lift my masthead toward her drenched sex.
She raises her head off the table, obviously a little surprised to feel me there.
“Put me inside you,” I order stiffly. It takes control not to shove myself there.
Her face blanches, and I grow harder. I like to see her war against herself and what she truly desires. Her sex pulses around my cock’s tip in anticipation for what will come.
“Consort,” I warn, lowering my eyebrows. “Put me inside you. Reach your hands down, take hold of me, and feed me into—”
“I get it,” she snaps, still breathless, so the words come out little more than a gasp.
She must sit up in order to manage the task. Her arms are not as long as mine. All of her is so much smaller. Weaker. More helpless.
And yet, when those tiny little hands shake as they close around my maleness—not that they can even begin to close around me or apply much pressure—it still does something to me that no amount of stroking myself in the dark can manage.
I almost gush all over her before I am even fully inside her, right there just primed at her opening.
But she does as I ask. She begins to pull me into her narrow little opening that seems to magically expand to fit around the three-inch girth of my circumference.
Her eyes go immediately wide.
She is afraid. Afraid perhaps I will not fit? I do understand I am larger than the males of her kind, but as we proved last night… I will fit, given the right circumstances.
She is a little stiff below me, though wet enough from my ministrations moments earlier.
I must bring her back to gushing.
“Now lay back,” I order gruffly, not able to even pretend gentleness when the bulbous head of my shaft is an inch inside the grip of my consort’s cunt.
She groans as she leans back, and I follow her, bearing down and entering another inch. She shakes beneath me as I lay my groin on hers and roll my hips, both smoothing further entrance and simulating the motion we will engage in several moments from now, once her body remembers how to accept me.
Now that I am over her on the table, it is easy to bend down with my mouth and latch onto her breast with my mouth while playing at her sex nubbin with my hand.
My wings flutter above us, holding me perfectly steady while I begin to torture her little nipples.
My consort’s nipples fascinate. They way they immediately harden and bud under my attention. She strains away from my touch one moment and her back arches, thrusting them into my mouth the next.
And in a brief flash, I imagine these teats full of milk for our young.
I harden more fully than I have ever in my life and suckle her hard nipples, determined more than ever to have her gushing.
