[Why does she love it so much, hearing that sort of happy, satisfied sound coming from a man sharing her bed (hay)? She can't help but look for that validation, find herself warm not just physically, but emotionally, to the proof that they were enjoying themself, that what she was doing... was doing things to them. Not that she couldn't tell with how hard his cock has grown between her breasts and beneath the reverent pressure of lips and tongue, but there was something about sound.
And scent, when she was in the depths of her heat like this, reveling in how much he smelled like man, mingling with her sweet hints of milk and earthy musk in the air to create an intoxicating haze. For a moment she just nuzzles into the fingers in her hair, presses her breasts tigher around his cock and lets him thrust up into the warm sheath she provides, just a fraction of what she'd be able to offer him elsewhere. He sounds so sure when he says that, that he'll provide for her first, that she can't help but sigh in desire.]
I want that...
[So, so bad. As his touch moves from her hair down she nips after his fingers along the way, teeth clicking audibly when he pinches in just the right way to make her whimper and squirm, wetting his fingers, a bit of inner thigh, with another little spill of wasted love. Her breath skitters out warm over the mess of milk and saliva she's left on his cock, panting with desire as she tries to summon the words to clarify,]
I want you to...
[Not just that, not from anyone, she wanted... No, her husband wasn't here, so she wanted him to do that. Her hindquarters keep shifting, unable to get comfortable as her tail flicks, as arousal she stokes by pleasing him continues to swell and stain the fabric of her "skirt", and now... He's properly erect, no amount of spoiling would make him stiffer, and her gaze drifts up to his face, her tongue slipping over her bottom lip to taste him there before she swallows eagerly, gives a last squeeze of tender bosom around him before she lets her hands move back to the straw and blanket-covered ground, prop her upper half up at a better angle to ask for a kiss. For more than a kiss, a little "please" whispered between.]
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And scent, when she was in the depths of her heat like this, reveling in how much he smelled like man, mingling with her sweet hints of milk and earthy musk in the air to create an intoxicating haze. For a moment she just nuzzles into the fingers in her hair, presses her breasts tigher around his cock and lets him thrust up into the warm sheath she provides, just a fraction of what she'd be able to offer him elsewhere. He sounds so sure when he says that, that he'll provide for her first, that she can't help but sigh in desire.]
I want that...
[So, so bad. As his touch moves from her hair down she nips after his fingers along the way, teeth clicking audibly when he pinches in just the right way to make her whimper and squirm, wetting his fingers, a bit of inner thigh, with another little spill of wasted love. Her breath skitters out warm over the mess of milk and saliva she's left on his cock, panting with desire as she tries to summon the words to clarify,]
I want you to...
[Not just that, not from anyone, she wanted... No, her husband wasn't here, so she wanted him to do that. Her hindquarters keep shifting, unable to get comfortable as her tail flicks, as arousal she stokes by pleasing him continues to swell and stain the fabric of her "skirt", and now... He's properly erect, no amount of spoiling would make him stiffer, and her gaze drifts up to his face, her tongue slipping over her bottom lip to taste him there before she swallows eagerly, gives a last squeeze of tender bosom around him before she lets her hands move back to the straw and blanket-covered ground, prop her upper half up at a better angle to ask for a kiss. For more than a kiss, a little "please" whispered between.]