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“I want your hands to touch me. I want your hands below my pants, pulling my length out. I want to take off all of your clothing and spread your legs. I want to thrust my tongue between your legs to finally taste the scent that torments me.”
She drops the cloth with a gasp, and I’m sure I’ve said the wrong thing. I’ve stunned her with my admission. She was only being kind to a beast she pitied, and now I’ve gone and—
Her hand suddenly reaches down between us. She grasps me, and I struggle not to shout. It is such a relief, such a joy.
“Yes,” is all I can pant. “I want this. If you want it, I want this.”
She nods. “I want this.”
I am overwhelmed by the feeling of joy and need that strikes me. A woman wants me. This woman wants me. She is touching me, and by the way her other hand reaches down to join the first, fumbling at the button of my pants, much more is about to come.
I blink, so startled by the turn of events, I can barely comprehend what is happening.
Her hands release the buttons constraining me, one after another, and then she is doing exactly what I described. She pulls my cock out of my pants, her hot little hands on me.
“You’re so big,” she exclaims. But she does not hold me long, instead climbing onto my lap and pressing herself against my length stiff between us, rubbing herself and making little noises.
“Hold me,” she gasps. “You’re so, so big. It feels really good. Hold me tightly.”
I nod, still dazed by what was happening. I pulse against her soft frame, my hardness sandwiched between our bodies as she wraps her legs around my back.
I wrap all of my arms around her and hold her close. She buries her face in my neck, and her lips suck on my skin as she writhes against me, rocking up and back.
Her scent starts to rise in the air, even with all the clothing she’s wearing. It’s intoxicating, and the pressure of her against my cock. . .
She grunts and makes little noises as she squirms, harder and harder, her legs squeezing me.
“Please,” I groan. As good as this feels— “Will you remove some of your coverings? I want to feel your skin.”
She hesitates and then nods. “Yes, I want that.”
Her legs stay locked around my waist as she pulls back slightly and unzips her thick coat. There’s a slight sheen of sweat on her forehead. I smile, wanting to lick it off her. She has cleansed me, and I want to lick her like felines do. I want to mate with her in every way possible.
The thought is a shock, but yes, it is what I want.
I want her as my consort. A thought too big for the moment. I try to zero back in on everything she reveals as she removes her coat. Then she pulls off her shirt.
She has compact, muscled shoulders. Her curved teats are still covered, and I want to tear the cloth away with my teeth; I’m so eager to get my mouth on her. I reach forward but pull my hands back at the last moment.
“This covering, too?” I ask greedily. I can only see the shape of her, and I want to see the flesh.
My length strains and twitches between us at every bit she reveals. She squeezes her legs as if she feels it, and her eyelids flutter. She nods and finally removes the contraption covering her teats.
“I want to lick you. I need to suckle you. May I?”
She grabs my head and drags me down to her rounded, full breasts. Finally, my mouth is feasting upon heaven. My lips close over her luscious skin, and the flesh hardens and pebbles under my probing tongue. She cries out, and her hands clench in my hair, tugging me closer. “Harder,” she says. “Suck harder.”
So I do, which makes her squirm more in my lap until she finally leaps away from me.
I groan, immediately wanting to ask what I’ve done wrong.
Except I see that she’s just wriggling out of her thick snow pants. My cock pulses at the sight. And then, oh gods, also out of the pants beneath those, exposing acres of beautiful flesh. Her legs. . . I’ve felt the pressure of them around me, but I want my mouth on every bit of skin she exposes to me.
She keeps on the last scrap of covering that hides her sweet-scented sex but comes back to me and climbs into my lap. My cock bobs between us like the mast of a ship. Without the snow pants, I can feel her heat as her legs wrap around me, friction and pressure as she wriggles her hips up and down on my shaft.
