[It wasn’t just her sense of sound or smell that were enhanced (or rather, lewdly refocused) in the midst of a rut. The absolute lack of hesitation between her little plea and that kiss, deep and all consuming, would have been enough on its own, but with the taste of him mingling twofold on her tongue Konoha can’t help but moan low and drawn out into his lips, left breathless and just a bit dizzy when he pulls away to take her face in his hands. Her bosom as well as the barrel of her lower chest expand in shallow flutters for breath, excitement both physical and emotional knocking around her hearts so carelessly she feels for a moment that they might burst. the way she deserved…
She wanted that so badly. To be taken care of with love. To take care of someone else and gift her wasted affection into their open hands. Yet her husband isn’t here, she sleeps and wakes alone without the person she loved more than anything, and only when she’s like this can she justify letting herself be another man’s woman, just for a few fleeting moments, let herself-]
Thank you…
[For agreeing to help her in the first place. For giving her words like that. For touching her like that, as if she were a whole woman and not half of one. It’s so quiet it might not even have existed at all, more an exhale of a sigh than two grateful words, because she doesn’t… No, she doesn’t want him to say “you’re welcome” or tell her she needn’t say it. It’s done, and she’d rather help him peel her kimono properly from her body, revealing more contrasting planes of soft womanhood and hard muscle, the close-to-human-but-somehow-not-quite-right knit of hard muscles along her back and shoulders designed to support an entirely different structure and weight, the dark vestigial mane that traces up from her withers and bay coat halfway up her more human-looking spine before it fades away to only skin.
He laughs, and it’s a good laugh. Even if it makes her flush as if she could even pretend to be maidenly any longer, her own gaze moving back to her skirt-clad rump, the way her tail has formed a restlessly flicking lump beneath the fabric.]
Ah… from behind is probably easiest… I’ll stay down so you can reach…
[The logistics of interspecies mating was never without at least a touch of awkward, needed warnings and rearranging, but she shifts a bit in the hay and blankets, rearranges her back legs on either side of her body in a way that, were she just stripped bare of that last garment, meant she would be exposed and ready to be… well, mounted. It could still be mounting on her belly, she supposed, as her voice turns just a bit wistful, her upper half arching into each slide of his hand over slick breasts, soft coat, savoring it before-]
I will miss you up here, though…
[Sadly, there was nothing to be done for the difference in lengths between their bodies, even if a sudden difference in his girth promised to be more than pleasing to her heat-addled senses.
And as eager as she was for him to move back to where she even now throbbed for attention… she can’t help wrapping her arms around his neck for one last kiss, tender and wanting in a heady mix, long enough to last her through losing the ability to hold him once he moved down her flank.]
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She wanted that so badly. To be taken care of with love. To take care of someone else and gift her wasted affection into their open hands. Yet her husband isn’t here, she sleeps and wakes alone without the person she loved more than anything, and only when she’s like this can she justify letting herself be another man’s woman, just for a few fleeting moments, let herself-]
Thank you…
[For agreeing to help her in the first place. For giving her words like that. For touching her like that, as if she were a whole woman and not half of one. It’s so quiet it might not even have existed at all, more an exhale of a sigh than two grateful words, because she doesn’t… No, she doesn’t want him to say “you’re welcome” or tell her she needn’t say it. It’s done, and she’d rather help him peel her kimono properly from her body, revealing more contrasting planes of soft womanhood and hard muscle, the close-to-human-but-somehow-not-quite-right knit of hard muscles along her back and shoulders designed to support an entirely different structure and weight, the dark vestigial mane that traces up from her withers and bay coat halfway up her more human-looking spine before it fades away to only skin.
He laughs, and it’s a good laugh. Even if it makes her flush as if she could even pretend to be maidenly any longer, her own gaze moving back to her skirt-clad rump, the way her tail has formed a restlessly flicking lump beneath the fabric.]
Ah… from behind is probably easiest… I’ll stay down so you can reach…
[The logistics of interspecies mating was never without at least a touch of awkward, needed warnings and rearranging, but she shifts a bit in the hay and blankets, rearranges her back legs on either side of her body in a way that, were she just stripped bare of that last garment, meant she would be exposed and ready to be… well, mounted. It could still be mounting on her belly, she supposed, as her voice turns just a bit wistful, her upper half arching into each slide of his hand over slick breasts, soft coat, savoring it before-]
I will miss you up here, though…
[Sadly, there was nothing to be done for the difference in lengths between their bodies, even if a sudden difference in his girth promised to be more than pleasing to her heat-addled senses.
And as eager as she was for him to move back to where she even now throbbed for attention… she can’t help wrapping her arms around his neck for one last kiss, tender and wanting in a heady mix, long enough to last her through losing the ability to hold him once he moved down her flank.]