A Perverted Path to Victory

Chona

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Recognizing the rolling anxiety in her stomach for the unproductive panic it was, she forced herself to hop up to her feet, tail swiping up the book she’d long since stopped pretending to read. With square shoulders and forced nonchalance, she walked up to Tinvel, tossing the book so it thumped right onto his papers.

“Hey!” He hurriedly lifted the book up and off the page, inspecting the ink to make sure it hadn’t smeared. “The hell was that for?”

“Have you been inside our room yet?”

“What?” He turned the book over, thoughtfully using a piece of scrap paper to dab away the small blots that had been transferred to his cover. “No, why?”

“We should see what’s in there.”

He looked at her, baffled. “What do you mean, what’s in there? If we’re lucky, it’s gonna be a couple cots on a dirt floor. If we’re not, it’ll just be a dirt floor.”

“Well let’s go see if we get lucky,” Chona said. She crossed her arms, looking to the door. Then uncrossed them, weight shifting from side to side.

“It’s still plenty bright outside. I don’t want to waste a light crystal’s charge just to work in a stuffy building.” He grabbed the book she’d dropped, holding it out to her. “What’s wrong with you reading the… uh…”

He trailed off as his eyes ran over the front cover’s title. Ballads of the Icy North: How the Heart Melts.

Chona’s fur rippled up in a flash, puffy fluff running from her wrist all the way to the back of her neck. She whipped her tail around to knock the book out of Tinvel’s grasp, using both her hands to grab him by the sweat-stained collar and dragging him off the seat.

“Come on,” she snapped, harshly shoving him toward the crappy cabin’s door, her head on a swivel to see if anyone was watching. “I’m curious. Let’s go see what we’re doing— I mean dealing with.”

Tinvel barely had time to push the door open to save himself from getting marched face-first into the chipped bark, its crappy wooden hinges scraping in protest. Chona used her tail to jerk the door shut behind them, plunging them both into a heavy darkness, lit only by the pinprick ceiling holes left by poor craftsmanship.

She watched as Tinvel, his eyesight worse than hers by far, squinted dumbly in the darkness, trying his hardest to make out what she could see at a glance.

“See?” He eventually said. “Two cots and a dirt floor. Isn’t it surprising? Now look, can we please just go back outside?”

With a deep breath and a furry blush that was now running the full course of her body, Chona reached behind her back and hooked a finger into the string that held up her chest wrap, tugging it apart.

With Tinvel still facing away from her, the soft rustle of cloth hitting the ground seemed utterly deafening to Chona’s ears. The sense of freedom that usually came with shrugging out of her clothes was equaled by the burning rush that ran along her body, her bare chest rising and falling with every one of her heavy breaths.

Everyone says that human boys don’t like hairy girls. Should I have shaved them? She’d spent a lot of time looking at herself in the mirror lately. The tops of her breasts were mostly covered by smooth skin, but the rest of her chest was covered by fur as dense as the rest of her body, if noticeably softer to the touch. The fur even goes up onto the side of my breasts a little bit. Will he care? Isn’t that not good? Some human girls even shave under their arms! Should I have? What if he thinks it’s weird?

Her heart was thudding so loudly in her chest that she felt certain Tinvel could hear it, but he still didn’t turn around. As the lump in Chona’s throat refused to go down, he walked forward a few steps, still squinting hard.

“These cots are awful. We’d probably be better off just sleeping with the sacks we keep in the plane, honestly.”

“Are you sure they’re that bad?” Chona asked. She was proud of the fact she didn’t stutter. “Maybe you should get a light to look at them properly.”

“I guess I could.” He reached into his pocket and removed a quartz crystal, activating it with a pulse of will. Crouching next to one of the cots, he made a face. “No, Chona. These are awful. It’s barely better than a pile of sticks. Do you really want to sleep on…”

His head turned her way. His eyes went wide.

“O-on…”

Chona squirmed in place, thighs rubbing together. Her hands went up instinctively, halfway to covering her chest, but she stopped herself in time, instead folding them under her breasts, pushing them up a bit. Just like the other girls said guys liked.

Tinvel stayed crouching, incoherent remnants of his shattered sentence falling out as if he’d been cursed to forget the notion of language itself. “They’re… uh… the… um. There’s… beds…?”

To be fair to him, she wasn’t doing much better. Every inch of her fur capable of standing on end was raised high. She hated, hated, hated it, because she knew exactly how she looked, yet she couldn’t help it. She was trying to… to get things going here, not do her best impression of a startled kitten. But her body refused to let anything settle down.

Tinvel wasn’t helping. He kept staring at her, jaw half-dropped, eyes peeled almost comically wide. He was still stuck in his half-crouch, upper body turned one quarter her way, still as stone.

The bizarre standoff probably only lasted a handful of seconds, but they were profoundly agonizing seconds. With every fiber of her self focusing on her next words, she managed to squeak out a half-decent rendition of a casual, conversational tone.

“What’s the b-big deal, Tin? You already know that I don’t want to. Um.” Her voice involuntarily raised an octave. “Don’twanttowearclothes?”

He swallowed audibly. His feet twisted, so he was facing her, and he began to stand, only to, for some reason, wince. He quickly settled back onto his heels, now with his knees pressed together.

“Is that why you… um… wanted to go inside. Then? So you could take off your…?” He made a finger circling gesture at his own chest.

It was then that Chona noted that he had not, even once, met her eyes. His focus was absolute. Her head could have burst into a demon’s and he wouldn’t have noticed.

It felt weird to be thinking of that in a positive light. For so long, practically all her life, she’d have been pissed off if someone had stared at her like Tinvel was in that moment. But not this time. And the sheer intensity of his staring? It was… flattering. Enough so that her arms relaxed, the impulse to cover herself lessening slightly. Even with her heartbeat pounding in her skull, a shaking anxiety filling her, Chona found herself gaining some kind of confidence. Her next words were firmer, more assertive.

“No. Just thought that, uh, since we had some time, we could… use it?”

More assertive, it was important to note, did not mean actually assertive.

With what was clearly a monumental effort of willpower, Tinvel’s eyes finally dragged themselves up to Chona’s face. He blinked owlishly, and for the first time, Chona realized he was blushing as hard as she was.

“So you just want to… what?”

She licked her lips. She was running out of words, so instead she stepped forward, crossing the tiny room and stopping in front of Tinvel. He kept himself there, gawping up at her, until she finally crouched down herself, putting a hand on his chest.

And gave him a light push.

Tinvel fell back, spine thumping into the wooden edge of the cot. His legs splayed out as he took in a breath.

A breath that became a sharp gasp as Chona moved forward and, with her legs to either side of his hips, sat down.

Tinvel was breathing as hard as her now. Harder, maybe. Her hand was still on the center of his chest, that sweat-soaked shirt wet against her palm. His heart was beating like a hummingbird’s wings, a thump-thump-thump pace that reminded her more of the Fulleye’s propellers than anything else.

Chona… wasn’t wearing anything under her sarong. Beneath the thin cloth, her waist was bare. She could feel Tinvel’s lap pressing against her thighs, and she knew he could feel that she wasn’t wearing anything.

But just in case he hadn’t noticed, she slid her hips up, until their bodies were pressed together.

And something long and hard was pressing against something wet and soft, separated by the thinnest layer of clothing.

The shudder that ran through Tinvel, the way his entire body trembled as he bit his lip to hold back a whine, tossed a spray of sparks onto something smoldering deep within Chona’s belly.

She bent her head down, tilting her face to one side. The eagerness with which Tinvel met her motion, pressing his lips to hers as if she’d barked an order for him to kiss her, sent a shudder through her own body. One that redoubled when she felt, as their lips split and their tongues began to mingle, something twitch beneath her.

That was a surprisingly intoxicating feeling. To feel the way his body reacted to her touch, as direct, obvious proof of how she was making him feel. Instinct alone sent her hips rolling further forward, grinding herself against him before the first drop of self-consciousness could stop her.

It was as good as she hoped. His entire body jerked in surprise, what little remained of his stoicism shattered by the borderline yelp that she felt rush out of his nose and across her cheeks. She shoved them deeper into the kiss, one hand clutching his side, the other still pressed to his chest, keeping them just barely separated.

Tinvel returned the kiss with enthusiasm. More enthusiasm than ever before, really. They’d had so few chances to really be alone together, and even fewer when they weren’t tired as all the hells, that this was almost still a new experience. She let her tongue press and slide against his, his soft human face brushing against her furry cheeks. It was shocking how naturally it came to them, she thought. Once she’d had enough drinks to really start talking, all of the other girls at the University had talked about how to kiss properly, all these different ways to hold your head and press the moment, but she really thought it was simpler than that. Every time she found herself enjoying the way something felt, or when she felt Tinvel squirm underneath her, she kept doing it.

She’d gone into this whole plan— if you could call it that— with the idea that they finally had the time to really be patient. To take things slow and explore, which was what everyone kept telling her was the right thing to do. But the more she kept kissing Tinvel and the more she felt his hot breath roll across her as she ground herself down against him, the more she felt her impatience building.

Tinvel’s hands were on her waist. Politely resting on her sarong, not even touching her fur. A chaste bit of hip hugging was not why she’d finally worked up the courage to take her top off in front of him.

The fingers on his chest curled up, balling his shirt into her fist. Her other arm reached down and to her hip, grabbing his arm by the wrist and lifting it up.

She felt his eyelashes flutter against her face as he tried to open his eyes and pull back in shock, but she chased his lips, all while steadily dragging his hand up, up, up. His fingers trailed along her stomach, his ticklish touch making her shiver, and then further still.

She paused, leaving his hand hovering over her chest. Over her breasts. Only then did she finally allow the kiss to break, pulling back.

Their heavy breaths filled the air. It seemed like the entire tiny cabin had jumped a dozen degrees, their lungs filling the place with a steamy heat. Tinvel was staring at her, eyes wide, a touch of spit on his lip sparkling in the crystal light.

“A-are you sure?” He asked uncertainly. “I know you were nervous about showing me before, and-”

“Tin,” she said, fingers tightening yet further on his shirt, like it was all that was keeping her tied to the ground. “I may not know a lot about guys, but I’ve got a few ideas for girls. And when a girl takes her shirt off and crawls into your lap, I’m pretty sure that means she’s already decided that you’re allowed to touch her.”

“O-oh. Okay.” He nodded and swallowed. “Yeah. That makes… sense…”

His hand started drifting toward her. She released his wrist, putting her hand on his shoulder instead, steadying herself.

Tinvel’s touch on her breast was light. Barely grazing it, really, his whole palm pressing to her with less force than her chest wrap usually applied.

For some reason, it was electrifying.

Even more than the time that he’d felt her on their way to the Empire, Chona’s entire body seemed to summon up some internal, boiling heat. Something about being touched and being seen, both of them together, was debilitatingly intoxicating. She let out a long, shuddering breath, her head drooping as he started to gain confidence in his ministrations. Her fingers curled into his shoulder, her breaths coming in heavier, slower exhalations.

“Gods…” he mumbled. Not to her; just an exclamation, one he was barely conscious of.

G-guess I don’t have to worry about him caring about my… her thoughts were briefly fragmented by his thumb brushing over her nipple and the breathy gasp it pulled from her, about what my ch-chest looks like…

Finally, of his own initiative, Tinvel got his second hand involved. He began to pluck and prod at her chest in its entirety, rolling up from below to squeeze her breasts in his palms, then narrowing his fingers down to a light, almost teasing pinch, which was nonetheless enough to have Chona squirming in his lap.

Every time she did, she could feel it. His arousal, the aching, throbbing line nestled at the innermost joint of her thighs. Though the definition of his erection was muffled by the thick leather breeches he wore, Chona could still distinguish bits and pieces of it. Half involuntarily, she rolled up toward him as he pinched her nipples, until she felt the throbbing head nestled against the boiling heat of her entrance, and then she dragged herself back, until she was resting right on the pulsating base of his manhood. Such a small amount of friction shouldn’t have done much of anything for her, but the mere fact that she knew what she was rubbing against was enough to shift the entire dynamic. Swirling arousal turned what should have been a pleasant buzz into a leg-quivering delight, her tail reflexively curling and uncurling with every slow gyration.

When Tinvel finally pinched a bit harder, testing the limits in a way that had Chona’s gasp turning into a white starburst of a yelp, she’d had enough. With a bitten-back moan, she took Tinvel’s shirt in both hands and tugged upward, desperate to feel something other than cloth rubbing against her.

“W-wait,” he gasped, refusing to lift his limbs. When she kept tugging at him, too much lust pumping through her veins to let the words fully register, he grabbed her hands and pushed them back. “Chona! Chona, wait, give me a second.”

She finally pulled back. The absence of his touch on her breasts left them feeling unattended, empty, almost itchy with need. She spoke in a hurried, breathless tone.

“What? What is it? Do you not want to-”

“No!” He hastily interjected. “No, that’s not it. It’s just… uh…” He swallowed, eyes flitting toward the door. “I need to go… um… get something?”

“I already took the tea. It’s gonna be fine,” she told him as she tugged at his shirt again.

“That’s not it— wait.” He finally tore his vision away from her breasts to look at her face. “You took the tea?”

“This morning,” she confirmed.

“You p-planned this?”

“Yes,” she all but hissed, switching tactics, running her hands up under his shirt, running her calloused palms over his taut stomach. “Don’t worry about it. Just let me keep going…”

Even though he shivered at the skin-on-skin assault, he didn’t let up. “I gotta go get something, really, Chona. Please?”

She didn’t want to say yes. But she didn’t see a way around it. With a frustrated huff, she dragged herself off her boyfriend’s lap.

“Fine. But hurry, alright?”

“Trust me,” he giggled nervously as he straightened up his shirt, “I’m gonna hurry.”

As he stood, Chona was lightly mortified to see the wet patch that was covering the front of his pants. Had that really all been her? She didn’t want to think so, but she couldn’t see any other explanation.

Gods, how embarrassing.

Tinvel scurried out the door with as much haste as he’d promised. Chona, her body abuzz with a stupor that was nearly drunken, was faced with the unfortunate challenge of confronting exactly what had just happened.

Fuck it. Fuck it, right? Just… just do something else. Distraction.

Popping to her knees, she inspected the cot, running a critical eye over the flimsy construction. It had a threadbare blanket and a straw-stuffed pillow, its only padding over the wicker weave being the moth-eaten blanket itself. Hurrying over to the other cot, she confiscated its blanket and spread it across the opposite side, doing her best to tuck it in place so it wouldn’t be easily disturbed. Then, seeing as Tinvel still hadn’t returned, she grabbed her silk wrap from where it had fallen and hurriedly wrapped it around the coarse pillow, doing her best to make it more comfortable.

The sound of the door opening once more nearly gave her a heart attack. Her hands leapt to cover herself out of instinct, a reaction she had to fight to overcome when she turned to see it was only Tinvel’s return.

“Sorry,” he said breathlessly. He had one hand behind his back, plainly hiding something. “I didn’t expect to need this, so it was kinda buried in all my stuff.”

“Need what?”

“It’s… uh…” He grimaced. “I don’t really know how to explain it? Can I just show you in a minute?”

She had no idea what to make of that. “Oh… okay?”

“G-good.”

Then they just… stood there. Staring at one another. Unsure of what to do. Things had been going so smoothly before, but the momentum of the moment had been broken. She didn’t know what to do.

“Do we… just pick up where we left off, or…?” She asked timidly.

“I don’t know. You were kinda leading things…?”

“Yeah. Um. I was mostly faking it.” She winced at her own awkwardness. Too honest by far. She turned around to gesture at the bed. “I added another blanket. It’s still not very comfortable, but…”

“Yeah. I get it, it’s fine.” He chuckled awkwardly. “Probably not what I- we- are gonna be thinking about, right?”

“Hopefully.”

With his hand still hidden behind his back, Tinvel walked stiffly back to the bed. Chona, her top still off, felt like she was going to burst. He wasn’t looking anywhere else. If an alligator had crawled into the cabin and laid underneath his feet, he would have tripped and died.

The flush that filled Chona at his gaze was… it was different from embarrassment. There still was some embarrassment there, her puffy fur was testament to that, but it was mixed with warm, calming… pride, she supposed? Was that the right word? Could she be ‘proud’ of her body? Pride was usually for the things you’d worked hard on, but she’d simply been born the way she was. Yet the way Tinvel was looking at her, that narrow-focused, appreciative stare… yeah. Whatever you wanted to call the emotion it evoked, she was a fan of it.

She met him halfway to the bed, setting her hands on his hips. He swallowed hard, briefly maintaining his downward stare, at least until he realized how blatantly obvious it was, and then he managed to look her in the face.

“Tin,” she said, a bit breathlessly. “I think it’s really unfair that you have your shirt on when I don’t.”

“O-oh. Well-”

“And I’m kinda really curious about what you’re holding back there,” she added quickly.

His mouth opened in a small o as panic rushed across his face.

“It’s… I don’t really know how to explain it, I was kinda just hoping to surprise you-”

“Surprise me?” Her eyebrows rose. “Tin. Is right now really the best time to be surprising each other?”

“L-look, it’s just…” He looked up and away, as if searching for some heavenly guidance for his words. Then he hung his head. “It looks kinda weird. But I thought it’d, um, help. And I don’t want you to be nervous if I try to, uh, use it with you.”

In all the many, many times Chona had imagined this moment, she’d never once imagined Tinvel, of all people, telling her that he had something he wanted to ‘use’ on her.

I guess they did say that trying to plan it all out is pointless, she thought to herself, taking a steadying breath.

“Okay,” she ventured trepidatiously. “But I want your shirt off, too.”

“S-sure.”

Chona started to step back, to let him take it off, but the instant the warmth of his presence began to leave her, she found herself reluctant to part. So instead she pressed inward, lifting at the bottom of his shirt, helping tug it over his head.

She’d almost never seen him without his shirt. Though the visible portions of Tinvel’s human skin had taken on that eye-pleasing, pleasing bronzed tone over the months he’d spent working on aeroplanes, almost all that time had been spent with some kind of jacket on. The skin that she exposed with the lifting of his shirt was as pale as he’d been the day she’d met him, pasty enough to let sparse freckles stand out prominently across his smooth skin. He wasn’t really muscled, like some of the male soldiers she’d seen training without their shirts on, but he wasn’t toneless, either. Skinny as he still was, the University’s meals and long hours of working on ever-larger artificing projects had given him an approachable softness. Back in the village she’d grown up in, everyone had been as dark as their skin could allow, head to toe, with either thick muscle in the good years or bony ribs in the bad years. Tinvel’s body was… exotic. It reminded her of fresh, warm dough, soft and inviting.

Inviting enough that she found her hand pressing to his stomach without a thought. He shivered heavily as her palm landed over his navel. He had a bit of fur there, she noted. The last time she’d seen him without his shirt— the day they’d crashed the world’s first aeroplane— that hadn’t been there. He’d probably thought she hadn’t noticed him staring at her wet chest that day, but she had. She’d just said nothing, because she’d been casting just as many glances his way, fascinated by the sight of a man who was hairless as a babe. Now he wasn’t. She wondered if he would, some day, end up with as much chest hair as some of the burlier human men she’d seen around Tulian.

“P-probably should have spent more time in the sun,” he joked nervously, turning his arms over to look at the heavy tan lines streaking his skin. “Looks kinda weird, doesn’t it?”

“Not really,” she murmured. Her other hand joined the first, moving up his body, towards his chest. “So soft…”

Some of the other girls had talked about how surprisingly rough they’d find a man’s skin compared to their own, but Chona didn’t find that to be the case at all. Maybe she was just too accustomed to her own coarse fur. That was probably it. Thinking back to her few adventurous nights with some of the other farmer girls, she vaguely recalled that their skin was, indeed, softer than Tinvel’s. But not by much. Not enough to have her any less interested in him.

Her hands curled around to his back, over his shoulderblades, and then she drew him in, closing her eyes as she tilted her head.

He met her easily. They’d kissed before. Plenty of times, by then. But when the embrace tightened enough that Chona’s bare breasts touched his soft skin, small sounds slipped through both their lips. Chona’s hands ran even higher up, until they were tucking under his arms and locking down atop his shoulders, all but clamping herself to him as the kiss steadily intensified.

The sounds of their quick gasps for air were intermixed with the wet press of their lips and tongues, filling the stuffy, humid cabin. Tinvel’s light crystal lay discarded on the floor, but that was alright, because she had her eyes squeezed tightly shut either way. Even as she began to tug him back, their feet tangling as they tried to kiss and walk together, she didn’t dare let herself get distracted from the warm skin tickling her fur.

The back of Chona’s calf hit the front of the cot suddenly, making her squeak. Tinvel tried to pull away to say something, probably to ask her a question, but she didn’t let him. Instead she twisted to one side and bent her legs, pulling her down with him.

The cot creaked as their weight settled on it in a side-sit, where she’d meant to keep kissing him, but the crappy thing began to tip instead. Refusing to let anything interrupt them again, Chona quickly fell even further backward, her grip on Tinvel’s shoulders ensuring it was easy to drag him along.

The cot settled back onto all four legs when Chona was on none. Her back was on the blankets, her legs up in the air. Tinvel’s weight had settled atop her, one knee between her thighs, the other pressing in from her left side.

O-oh gods, she squeaked in her mind, That seems so… so much.

It barely mattered that, as a combat mage, Chona had more than enough strength to toss a scrawny artificer, even without spells being tossed into the mix. There was something about having another person on top of her, his weight pinning her down as they kissed and panted and their hands ran up and down each other, that was throwing her way, way off balance. It had a hunger boiling up within her of a kind she’d only felt once, on that empty night in the middle of nowhere, and when she felt even more of Tinvel settle down on top of her, his waist against hers, it only built the pressure in her higher.

Suddenly, he broke the kiss. She could feel his chest heaving against hers as he began to slide down, kissing her cheek, then nuzzling the fur of her neck, her collarbone. He only got that far, however, because she was dazed by her own arousal. The moment it registered that he was making his way down to her breasts, a repeat of that earlier night— no matter how wonderful it had been— Chona’s hands came up to curl fingers in the back of his hair, tugging him back to her face.

“No,” she breathed.

“N-no?” He asked, freezing, his wide eyes staring at her in confusion.

“No,” she repeated, this time with her tail slipping out from underneath her and coming down to his lower back, gliding down, until it bumped against the hem of his pants. So many humans were always taken aback by how strong and dextrous a vanara tail was. Stronger than one of her arms, she could lift herself up by her tail alone. It was more than enough to slide beneath the flimsy string that tied Tinvel’s breeches on and tug down, trying to free his lower half.

Tinvel, to her shock, recoiled. He shook her grip on his hair off and shoved himself up, arms locked straight out as he loomed over her, blinking rapidly, taking the smallest pause yet to be distracted by her breasts before refocusing on her face.

“Chona,” he whispered croakily, “are you sure?”

“Tin,” she all but whined, her tail slipping further between the string and his breeches, “I have spent hours trying to work up the courage to do this, and if you keep stopping us in the middle of it-!”

“I didn’t mean-!”

“Pants!” Her hands went from hugging his neck to the tie at the front of his breeches, “Off!”

Before she could do much, the cheap string outright broke with a small snap, torn apart by her tail and hands pulling at opposite ends.

“I just want to-o-o…”

His words stuttered into nothingness as her tail hurriedly dragged his pants down, exposing his bare legs and underclothes to the open air.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve been grateful you buy such shitty fuckin’ clothes.”

“They’re not shitty!” He quickly shot back, though the familiar protest sounded strange as a quiet, breathless half-whisper.

Chona didn’t bother to respond. She tossed her arms around the back of his neck, trying to pull him back into a kiss. When he resisted, however, she didn’t drag him down by force, instead blinking owlishly up at him.

“C-Chona,” he said, his teeth nearly chattering with nerves, “I just… are we going too fast? Do you want to-”

“No, not too fast-”

“But…”

He trailed off, biting his lip. From something in his voice, Chona realized he was thinking of something more serious than their usual back-and-forth. SHe slowed, waiting, giving him time to think.

Not that long, though. Any longer and she was pretty sure she’d soak through the blankets.

“Yeah? What’s up, Tin?”

His adam’s apple bobbed nervously. “It’s just… you said you didn’t get much from anything… being inside… so I was thinking you wouldn’t want to…” He licked his lips, looking away.

“Tin.” She unwrapped her left arm from his neck, using two fingers against his jaw to turn his face back to her. With as serious an expression as she could muster, she stared straight into his eyes. “I didn’t get anything at all from the,” she stuttered over the word, “uh, the h-hand… h-handjob that I gave you, either.”

“But that was after I, uh, helped you, too,” he protested weakly. “S-so we don’t have to, I guess, is what I’m saying. Like, you don’t have to do anything just for me…”

Chona thought of saying it right then and there. That the whole reason she was rushing this through was coming up in a few weeks, when her yearly heat would be upon her, and she didn’t want that to be her first time. From what little her mother had managed to teach her before she’d fled the room in embarrassment, her first “true” heat, the one that happened when she had a partner ready and available during the week or two it lasted, was going to be strong. Stronger even than the ones she’d known her mother had, which had almost always involved her being sent to live with the neighbors for a couple weeks. From the jokes the adults in the village had made about her parents during those weeks, Chona had no idea how she was an only child. And her first heat, apparently, was going to be worse than that.

But she couldn’t bring that up to Tinvel now. She was already so, so nervous. Until she’d gone to the Empire, her mother and father had been the only vanara she’d ever met in her life. All her life, she’d expected any human or orcish partner to hate her hairy body, her thick tail, the rise of her muzzle and the sharp canines hidden behind her thin, non-emotive lips, which couldn’t stretch in half the ways human lips could. She’d always hoped she’d find some nice catfolk girl to get with, one who’d hardly care about all of that and, because she was a woman, not set off the ticking time bomb that had been her long-dreaded first heat.

And then all of this. Tinvel. A human. A boy. A man now, really. With his… with his stupid soft skin and that dumb cocky smile and wind-tossled hair and that… that long, hard shaft she’d only once felt, but had never really seen. It wasn’t where she’d ever expected to be. She just… she probably should tell him, right? Tell him why she wanted to do this here, now, right fucking now?

But she couldn’t. What if he was scared off by it? What if he wanted to spend time apart from her during the heat, to see if that might make it not as strong? They argued so much, but he was so nice, maybe too nice to really understand that, actually, if the heat was going to happen with him in her arms, she might… might be looking forward to it? And all that meant to be said by a vanara?

She couldn’t say all that. She would. She promised herself she would. But… later. Not right now.

“Tin,” she breathed, “it’s okay. I want to, okay? I took the contraceptive tea, remember? I just told you that. And… and I’ll like it. I’ve tried it before, okay?”

“You have? I thought you said you’d never, um, been with anyone. Before.”

“Right. I haven’t. But…” Her fur fluffed right the hells back up, but she forced herself to shove through the embarrassment. “But when we got back to Tulian, I, um…”

“You…?”

Her voice dropped to a mumble as she turned her head aside, avoiding eye contact. “I may have bought a, um. T-toy. That was about the same size that you f-felt like, when we. Y’know. In the plane.”

“O-oh.” Tinvel lowered himself down, arms folding in. He came to rest on Chona’s chest, then, supporting himself with his elbows so his full weight wasn’t on her. “I guess that means you… used it…?”

She nodded mutely, still not looking at him.

“And… did it… well, I’ve heard it hurts for some girls, the first time they…?”

“It did,” she squeaked out. She was blushing as hard as was physically possible, the only flat fur on her body coming from where Tinvel’s weight was pressing it down. “It hurt a little bit. But not for that long.”

“That’s good, but—

“Or the second time,” Chona hastily added. “So it’s not like it’s gonna hurt this time. I, um, already checked. Th-three times. The extra times were both good, so…” she shrugged helplessly.

Tinvel pulled back slightly. “Wait. We were only in Tulian for a day before we left. When did you find the time to…?”

“I got it in the morning,” she said. For some reason, this conversation was helping settle her. They were just… hugging. Half-naked. Her wet, him hard, but both being normal about it. Talking about things. Even sex things. “I tried it in the dorms, ‘cause I had a healing potion there—

“Did you need it?”

“No. No, it didn’t hurt that bad at all. Just a little bit. Like, um, a bit of burning?” She shrugged against him once more. “I felt it break. And that hurt the worst. But, y’know. Combat Mage. Not really a big deal.”

“Huh. Makes sense. I guess it wouldn’t be a big deal for you.”

“Nope.” She felt a bit of pride at that— and then embarrassment at what, exactly, she was being proud over. She shook that off, moving on. “And then, later on, after we did that first test flight with the deployable antenna and Professor Brown and you were working on it for a couple hours after—

“Wait, that’s what you went off to do?!” He laughed incredulously.

“We’re busy people, Tin!” She gave him a playful smack, even though she was laughing, too. “It’s not like I’ve got a ton of time for it, and you were wearing your new flight jacket when you got in that argument with Professor Brown about the deployment mechanism, and you proved to him you were right and started working on it yourself, so I just kinda went off to… take care of myself.”

He laughed again. It was nice to feel him laughing when they were pressed together.

“You like my new jacket that much?”

“It’s not just the jacket!” She whined. “It was you being all smart, and flying, and seeing you take the jacket off when you were all sweaty and your shirt was clinging to your back as you argued with the Professor and it turned out you were right because you’re smart and… ugh!” She threw her head back into the pillow. Two very different kinds of frustration were at war within her.

She could hear his smile widen. “Smart, huh? Is that what you look for in a guy?”

“I’ve never looked for a guy before,” Chona half-snapped, rolling her eyes away from him. “I don’t know why I… like you… the way I do, honestly. As a… boyfriend, I guess. I’ve only been interested in girls before you, and it took a long time before I really thought of you in that kind of way. But yeah, sure. If you weren’t smart, I wouldn’t have even bothered to hate you when we first met. I would’ve just ignored you like I did everyone else.”

“I guess that’s good, then.” He smiled. “And I guess I’ll wear the jacket more often.”

“Like I’d have given you a choice,” she muttered into the pillow.

They lay together for a little bit. Tinvel’s elbows had slowly been taking less and less of his weight, until eventually he’d returned to just laying atop her, their hips pressed together. His underwear against her sarong. That was still hot and sticking to her legs; distracting. She thought this break would have calmed her down. Apparently not. It seemed that having a cute guy laying on top of you with his shirt off was enough to keep a girl’s arousal burning strong. Truly the great scholars of the world would applaud her discovery.

“That was only two, though. You said three times, right?” Tinvel eventually asked.

“Yeah.” She sighed, finally turning her face back his way, letting their gazes meet. “This morning. I got up early. Before the other girls were up. I went to the dorm baths and used it there, too.” Swallowing her embarrassment, she pressed a brief kiss to his lips, then pulled back, eyes sparkling. “So: like I said. I promise, Tin. I’m ready. It’ll be fine.” Then, when he kept staring into her eyes so tenderly, she winced and glanced away. “Gods,” she muttered. “This is so awkward. Why’d you have to be a guy? I know how my own stuff works already."

He laughed. “Not like I know yours any better. But you want to know something embarrassing I did?”

She shot him a sloppy grin. “Oh, absolutely. What’d you do?”

“When we got back to Tulian, I went out to buy olive oil.”

She waited for something more. But there was apparently nothing. “Okay. And that means… what?”

He blinked, apparently surprised by her lack of comprehension. His cheeks colored a cute shade of red as he was forced to explain. “It’s for guys to help themselves, um… Get in. Y’know? If the girl isn’t, um… sufficiently aroused.”

“Wet,” she provided, suppressing a roll of her eyes. “Just call it ‘getting wet,’ Tin.”

“O-okay.”

“And… really? Olive oil? For that?”

“I-it’s supposed to work!” He protested. “Like, really well, apparently. There are two guys in the dorms that are dating, and when they left a bottle of it out, we were all asking them about it, making jokes about them being the new cooks and… well. That’s what they said it was for. And I figured that if it worked for two guys, well, it had to be great for a girl to use if she needed it…”

She put a finger to her lips, as if thinking hard. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Yeah—

Chona interrupted him with a roll of her hips, tail pressing down on Tinvel’s butt to force him to grind against the absolutely, positively, downright soaked front of her sarong, and then she finally used her proper strength to pull his head down so she could hiss a whisper straight into his ear.

“But I don’t think I’m gonna need it, Tin.”

“S-shit, Chona!” He groaned, trying and failing to pull his hips away from her touch. “Gods, you feel so hot. Why does no one talk about that?”

“I dunno. Probably not what they’re focusing on through the whole thing, huh? Want to find out what caught their interest instead?”

“Y-yeah,” he mumbled out, just before his lips met hers again.

The heat of the moment, briefly stalled, roared back to life with all the same fire from before. More, really.

He got something to make it more comfortable for me. The dazed thought floated through her mind even as their tongues danced against one another, his hips starting to buck against her, friction sending tingling pleasure through her hips. That’s all he was thinking about. How to make it better for me. He doesn’t care about me being a vanara, or my fur, or my tail. He really, actually doesn’t.

She could have hugged him until something snapped, but held back. Instead her arms abandoned his neck, reaching down to the place where their hips were joined.

There was no hesitation this time. Still locked in their kiss, Tinvel’s hand joined hers as she finally, finally pushed down his underclothing, her tail providing the final flick that sent it sailing across the cabin.

Still laying on her back, Chona stared down her body. He was kneeling over her legs, on all fours, leaving it just… hanging there. Long and throbbing, practically red with arousal, its tip shining wet. Before, she’d felt it twitch with his heartbeat. Now she could see it happening. The tha-thump, tha-thump was coming fast and hard, his excitement visible in a whole new way.

For once, it looked like she’d expected it. Professor Brown’s anatomy classes had been famously informative. Shamefully so, according to some. With diagrams of the human body in all its states, inside and out, top to bottom. Back then, Chona had barely cared. It was only a few weeks ago that she’d gone back into the University library and secreted a book back to her own room, flicking through pages until she found the male anatomy.

The book, Tulian’s only copy, had been scrawled over with Professor Brown’s additional notes, correcting what the original author couldn’t have known without otherworldly knowledge. Tinvel’s penis— no, that sounded too childish— Tinvel’s dick was a lot like the one in the drawing. Apparently the average one was about five inches long. 13 centimeters in the new system. Tinvel… with his dick framed right above her thighs, she had to guess that he was a little bit above average. Not by too much, but noticeable. 15 centimeters, maybe. His foreskin was back already, showing the full head of his dick, which was bounced the most of all by every thud of his heart. A thick, pulsating vein ran along the top of it, snaking back and forth and disappearing into the bushy base of his pelvis. His balls hung beneath, framing the underside of his dick, which had an even thicker bulge running along the full length of the shaft.

Here, finally, Chona had a plan. Before Tinvel could so much as move, her tail returned to his waist, tip tickling along his thigh, over his balls, until it found his shaft and began to curl, curl, curl, wrapping it in a tight spiral.

“F-ffuck, Chona!” He hissed, one arm nearly collapsing beside her head. “Oh s-shit! That’s so… gods, that’s so soft.”

She could have told him about all the different hair care products she’d stolen from her roommate to use on her tail, but decided he really didn’t care that much.

She brought her tail up, from the base on the shaft, slowly gliding along to the tip, where it swiped over the top, fur collecting that clear dot of watery precum she couldn’t take her eyes off. And then she slid it back down, tightening her tail even further.

Tinvel’s elbows collapsed, his head falling to the pillow next to her as he panted heavily into the crook of her neck. The sound of his reactions, even more than the rigid cock wrapped in her tail, was utterly intoxicating.

“Is it too tight?” She asked, already knowing the answer. When he wordlessly shook her head, she moved her tail back higher, squeezing it in a rippling succession, luxuriating in the noises he was failing to hide behind his gritted teeth.

“Chona,” he grunted.

“Mmyes?” She asked, giving his dick another squeeze.

“F-fuck! Chona, Chona look, this feels nice, b-but if you want to…”

“To what?”

“Tooooo get tooo… oh… shit… to get to the whole, um, sex thing… you’re probably gonna have to-!” His voice hitched an octave as her tail slid over the tip of his dick yet again. “-to stop with that!”

She paused. “Really?”

He nodded weakly. “Y-yeah. Your tail feels really, really good, Chona.”

Reluctantly, she let her tail uncurl. The shining reflection of his precum in her fur drew her attention like a siren’s song as her tail removed itself. Looking down at herself again, she let her tail linger. What would it look like, to see that bright white spattered across her stomach?

Tinvel moved before she could act on the idea. It was only when he reached for the button that held the front of her sarong together that Chona realized she wasn’t, technically, naked. She might as well have been, considering how her grinding had left the garment plastered to her body with the slickness of her own arousal, but Tinvel, obviously, wanted more than that.

She didn’t hesitate to help him open the sarong. Whatever reservations she’d had were a distant, unimportant thing, swamped by the rising tide of her hunger. Two buttons and a flick of her wrist were all it took to spread open her sarong, bearing herself to him.

Tinvel, it seemed, didn’t spend as long captivated by the sight of her body. He was moving practically before the sarong had stopped moving. Or maybe he was just as captivated. She couldn’t tell. As their bodies met and separated, time didn’t seem to be moving quite right, like the gods were playing with their senses.

Tinvel sat back on his knees. That flushed pride returned as she saw the way he was looking at her, and, in pursuit of it, she spread her legs for him, left knee knocking against the cabin wall, right dangling off the cot’s edge.

Guess I spoke too soon about the whole captivated thing.

Tinvel leaned in, one hand going up to her. She couldn’t see between her thighs, but she could feel it. She was wetter than she’d been in her entire life, and any runner-up of a moment was in a distant, distant second place.

A single finger ran up her slit. From bottom to top. Her eyelids fluttered as her sex sent little jolts of delight through her hips, making them squirm against her will, thrusting up into his touch, silently asking for more.

That one touch was all he gave her, though. Instead of doing anything further, he looked up at her, with a somewhat… sheepish expression?

“Um. What I had in mind, I think it might be a bit better if you were… on top? If that’s alright with you?”

It took a moment for Chona to realize what he meant by ‘on top’. Then the anatomy textbook floated through her head again— specifically a sketch done by some bored student of Old Tulian had left on the pages regarding reproduction.

She’d spent a long, long time thinking about that sketch.

Without a word, Chona shoved herself up into a sitting position, tail flicking around to wrap Tinvel in a hug.

“Switch spots, then,” she said, scooting forward.

“Oh! Uh, sure, let me just, ah…”

On the tiny cot, it wasn’t the easiest thing to do. But they did, eventually, swap spots. When Tinvel was finally sitting where she’d been, Chona pushed against his shoulder, guiding him to the cot.

He blinked in surprise. “These blankets are really wet here, Chona.”

She huffed. “You don’t get to complain about problems you created, Tin.”

She scooted up, until her thighs were balanced on his hips, his dick pointing straight up between them. It was throbbing even harder, now. Faster. She reached a hand down, not to grab it, but simply to press it against her lower stomach. Digging her thumb into the skin at the exact point it would reach.

I think I might have underestimated when I bought that toy.

The image seemed to do something for them both. The breezing touch of her palm nonetheless made Tinvel hiss, his hips wriggling, and that friction sent his dick rubbing against Chona’s clit.

It was like a bolt of lightning. Her reaction was almost embarrassing, the way her shoulders shot up as her head dipped low, a quiet ah! shooting through her lips before she could stop it. She bucked instinctively forward, grinding her clit against his dick, again, and that was enough to make a full-throated moan fall from her, high-pitched and wobbling. Her toes curled and her fingers quivered, tail slapping the cot between Tinvel’s ankles.

“Ch-Chona?”

She ignored him for a moment, slowly piecing herself back together. It wasn’t even a proper orgasm, yet she was so insanely worked up that such a little bit of friction had been better than some of the more lackluster climaxes she’d gotten on lonely evenings with her hands between her legs.

“I’m fine,” she finally breathed. And then she lifted herself up, tail returning to curl around the base of his cock. With her eyes closed, she positioned them both, letting her thighs settle back low, until she felt him.

The head of his dick had never seemed small, but ‘not small’ was turning into a whole different thing when she had it pressing between the lips of her pussy. It felt big. It felt damn big. It wasn’t, objectively speaking, but she couldn’t convince her subconscious of that. She paused there, with Tinvel at her entrance, her arousal dripping down onto him.

She was feeling something she’d never known before. A hunger in her belly, but lower, deeper. A craving that had, truthfully, never once graced her body before. She wanted to be full. Enough so that she briefly wondered if her count had been wildly off, that her heat had arrived here and now, not the weeks later she’d thought it was due, but that was impossible. It was just her needy, plaintive body, plain and simple.

Only when she had the wherewithal to open her eyes did she finally look down on Tinvel, a nearly drunken giggle spilling from her lips.

“Are you ready?”

Tearing his eyes away from the place they were nearly joined, Tinvel met her eyes.

And nodded.

Chona sank down onto him.

Two long, low moans filled the room.

She felt herself being split open in exquisite, detailed pictures. Not by cold lacquered wood, but thick, hard flesh, hot and pulsing. She was so unbelievably wet that the first inch became the second in an instant, Tinvel slipping into her core like he’d never belonged anywhere else.

It felt way, way better than anything else she’d ever had inside her. Toys, her own fingers, Tinvel’s fingers, none of it compared to that thick, throbbing cock spearing into her depths. She gave way eagerly, faster and faster, past the point that it would have hurt if she hadn’t prepared ahead of time, and then further still, until little static pops seemed to be infecting her entire lower half, a rising tide of delectable pleasure spreading and propagating throughout her.

Tinvel’s hands flew to her thighs and dug in there, gripping her fur hard enough that it should have hurt, but she was a long, long way from caring about that. Instead she just did what his tugging grip suggested and let herself fall the rest of the way down, hitting his pelvis with a thump.

She could feel it. Feel him. In her. Throbbing. That heartbeat, faster even still, pitter-pattering away deep in her core. As they both failed to say anything other than high-pitched whines and lower moans, Chona’s hand came up to her lower body, that same thumb pressing into the same spot that she’d measured earlier.

Through lidded eyes, Tinvel saw her. Knew what it meant. His head fell back onto the pillow as his hips bucked upward, tossing Chona into the air.

“Sh-shit!” She groaned, biting her lip as she fell forward, catching herself by slamming her palms down on either side of his ears. Even falling forward stirred his cock within her, making them whine in unison.

“It feels so fucking tight,” Tinvel moaned. “And hot. Gods, you’re so hot, Chona.”

“I can feel you soo-o-o deep,” she gasped. “Fuck. Fucking hells, Tin.”

They both stayed like that, her bent over him, him grabbing her thighs, both of them quivering as their brains tried to remember which limb connected to what part of their body.

Eventually, however, the pleasure faded, becoming something more tolerable. A background buzz, like she was a couple beers down.

So naturally she lifted herself up, feeling Tin’s cock pull out of her, and then dropped back down.

They both cried out. It was good. So fucking good. In a way totally different from her clit, but nearly as good, because Chona was full. She was stuffed as full as she’d never known she wanted, and the only thing that could make it better was lifting herself up and slamming herself down again.

This time, she was conscious enough to hear the wet slap of their hips colliding. She felt the way his fingers curled and spasmed in her fur as Tin did his best effort to avoid pulling too hard.

“It’s okay,” she mumbled out, bouncing again. “It’s okay, it’s okay. It feels so fucking good, Tin, just do what you want.”

“Dunno how much I can really do,” he slurred back, even as his hands lifted up off her thighs. “Is it okay if I start—

Whatever else he said was lost to Chona as his hands landed on her breasts. Going straight to her nipples, tweaking them, pinching, rolling. It sent a flaming line of pleasure spiraling through her body, a new source of heat that she was utterly unprepared for. Her head rolled as she cried out his name amidst a flood of profanity, her core clenching down, impossibly, even harder against him.

She sped up. She took two fistfuls of the bed over Tinvel’s head and used them as leverage to drag herself up his cock, wrapping her tail around his leg to help drag her back down, slamming onto his hips again and again.

They were both saying things to one another, but if either of them were saying something that mattered, she’d never know, because it was all just noise. She was pretty sure she tossed a few cries of ‘I love you’ in there, even though she definitely wasn’t ready to say that out loud, and she was also pretty sure she got them back in return, though both versions were mixed in with talking about how much they loved other parts of their partner’s bodies, too.

She felt like she was seeing white, starbursts popping and flying around behind her head. His cock kept sliding up her tunnel, spreading her open and stopping at just the right spot, only to drag its way free with an agonizingly addictive friction. She was getting even wetter, somehow, practically soaking the cot, but neither of them noticed. Tinvel was too busy feeling her breasts as she bounced atop him, every little squeeze making her whine and her tail thrash, even though she never released her grip on the lifeline that was his leg.

Eventually, however, Chona’s eyes opened. She was close. So fucking close. Pleasure rose and roared and burst through her again and again, every sensation as foreign as it was welcome, but impossible as it seemed, it wasn’t enough. She needed something more.

“T-tiiinveeell,” she whined out, no longer caring how desperate she sounded. She was desperate. “Tiiiiin! Pleee-e-ase just… oh, fuck!” She hung her head, drooping even lower over him, until they were nearly parallel, her bouncing carrying her hips over his stomach. “Just fucking touch me, I’m so close, but I can’t, I just can’t get there—

“I got it, I got it,” he panted, “don’t worry, let me just grab…”

For the first time in the pleasurable eternities that had been the last few minutes, Chona remembered the thing he’d been hiding before. The whatever-it-was that he wanted her to see.

Now he brought it out. At first she thought it was another wooden cock like the one she’d brought, and some part of her fragmented mind readied itself to slug him across the face if he suggested putting it in her ass, but then she saw that it had a broad, black head, rubbery in texture. He turned it around several times, frantic as he spoke.

“I’m so close,” he warned her. “Just… need to…”

A little click sounded as his thumb found some switch. And then a buzzing filled the air.

“W-what’s that?” She gasped. Still bouncing on him, still grinding her hips, desperate for the release that she couldn’t give herself.

“It’s a vibrator-”

“I can tell it’s vibrating-”

“And it’s gonna feel good, I promise, I— oh fuck, Chona!” His eyes screwed up as he tried to pull away from her, trying to hold off his own climax, and Chona thought she deserved a damn medal for the fact that she managed to lift herself up a few inches, slowing her pace for long enough to speak again. “Just… trust me…?” He managed to pant out.

“F-fine! Just hurry—!”

He pressed the rubber to her clit.

“AH!” Her legs collapsed entirely as her body was struck by the strongest bolt of pleasure in her damn life. If the feeling of his dick on her clit had been lightning, this was a thunderstorm trapped in a bottle, electric delight coursing through her entire body.

It didn’t so much as push her over the edge as it did fling her head-over-heels off a bottomless cliff. Both arms and her tails tugged with all their strength, impaling herself on Tinvel as the strongest clench she’d ever felt seized his cock, rippling up and down its every ridge. She fell forward, against his chest, her mouth open in a half-choked cry as the vibrator ended up pinned between them, right against her clit, still buzzing away. Her hips twitched and thrust, grinding his cock against her innermost walls according to the whims of some mindless instinct, turning her climax into a world-altering roar of ecstasy. She called out his name as tears appeared at the corner of her eyes, the word ‘Tin’ shooting out as fast as she could say it, in time with her thrusts against him until, finally, she began to slow.

And then she felt his cock jump in her.

The thick vein beneath it pulsed once, twice, and then, deep in her core, she felt a warm splash.

And her climax redoubled.

They were locked into an embrace. The vibrator fell away, rolling out onto the cot, but it didn’t matter. Chona felt him pumping and pumping, filling her up, and she realized for the first time that no, not one, not any of her old orgasms had been enough. She needed this, she needed the warm, wet strings that she felt shooting from his cock, painting her insides white, filling her over and over again.

It was so good. So, so good. Her hands clawed at his back, his fingernails tangled in her fur, and they shook and shivered atop one another, every little spasm of his hips and the cum that it spurted into her causing them both to cry out again, each bout of ecstasy quieter and more tired than the last.

Finally, ten or fifteen eternal seconds after it had begun, it was over. The entire front of Chona’s furred body was pasted to Tinvel’s sweaty chest. As her other faculties filtered back in, she became aware of the wetness all around them. On the cot, the blankets, in her fur and on his skin. The scent of sex, salty sweat and slick arousal, clogged the steamy air. If she hadn’t known what it meant, she probably would have hated the smell, but right then she didn’t care. She was warm, and she was with her mate, and they were in a nice, private little room, and that was all that mattered.

She didn’t know if she fell asleep or not. The line of consciousness was pretty blurry at the time. But eventually, however much later, Tinvel spoke up.

“Sorry about surprising you with that,” he whispered hoarsely. “I kinda forgot about it until it was too late.”

“Isssh gooood,” she slurred, rolling her hips again, getting a few little embers of heat to sparkle in her body. She pressed a wet, sloppy kiss to his cheek. “Issssh sho good, Tinny,” she assured him, rubbing her cheek against his. “You’re shooo good, too.”

“Thank the gods for that,” he muttered, giving her back a pat. “Do you wanna—

“Shtay,” she ordered, pushing against his shoulder, even though he hadn’t tried to get up. “Just lemme… have you in me… for a while?”

He chuckled. “No protests there.”

Then, finally, Chona fell asleep. It was one of the best, deepest, most dreamless sleeps of her life.

Until she woke up in the middle of the night, a strange kind of ache in her belly. She started to get up, thinking she had to use the chamberpot, but stopped when she realized that she’d curled into a ball, Tinvel hugging her from behind. Unwilling to disturb him, she waited for a while, pressing a hand to her stomach.

A flash of arousal rocked through her. Strong enough to make her whimper.

Her eyes shot open.

Oh, fuck.

Oh, oh, oh.

Is that what mom was going to tell me?

As the burning desire began to spread through her, Chona came to one sharp, stark realization.

A vanara’s yearly heat could be triggered by more than just the season.

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