A Perverted Path to Victory

CW: Nonhuman genitalia (nothing too extreme)

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Mui Thom

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The flight from the Visya’s tower– and flight was the only way Mui could describe it– was bewildering. Sara, who had at first seemed so exhausted after exiting the negotiations, suddenly found in herself a burst of inexplicable energy. He had been all but dragged into the elevator, then dragged back out of it, forced to jog behind the woman just so he wouldn’t be yanked off his feet by her grip on his wrist. Her urgency was great enough that he feared she’d not even stop to let him gather himself, but would rather drag him along the street until they reached their mysterious destination.

“Hey Evie, can you-”

“Of course, Master,” the feline said, splitting from her wife’s side. “Should I tell the others to expect you back in four or five hours?”

“Or more,” she said, still tugging Mui along.

“Of course. I’ll know when you’re finished, after all.”

“I am not your escort anymore, Sara,” Mui reminded her. “What, exactly, are we rushing off to do?”

“Flower picking,” she said, giving her wife a quick kiss goodbye as the woman departed their company. “I heard someone talking about a good inn not too far from here.”

“We are going flower picking in an… inn?”

With a disorienting jerk, Sara suddenly tugged Mui aside, dragging him into an alleyway. Mui started to ask another question, at an utter loss for any form of understanding, but his words were cut off as he found his back slamming up against a wall, the Chosen of Emotion towering over him, her breasts a mere inch from his chest. She was close. Too close. He dropped his muzzle open, doing his best to breathe through his nose as little as possible.

“We,” she said, dipping her head lower, dropping her voice to a husky rumble, “are going to find somewhere quiet. Soft. And private.”

“Wha-a-” Mui’s words died in his throat as her knee thumped into the wall, landing between his thighs. She dragged it upward, applying pressure to his groin in just the right way to steal his breath.

“Sergeant Mui Thom,” Sara breathed, tilting her head to one side, so her hot breath flowed directly into his flicking ears. “You are a very, very good man. And I think that kind of thing deserves a reward.”

Despite himself, Mui shivered, her words falling into his ears like molten honey that rolled down, through his body, filling him a strange heat, one that was as pleasant as it was lacking, inspiring a fervent desire for more of the same.

“I-I don’t think you need to… and you have wives…”

“I don’t need to,” Sara mumbled, bringing her hands up, sliding them beneath the metal of his helmet to grasp either side of his face, fingers running circles across his cheek fur. “But I want to. And that’s more than enough for me.”

Mui swallowed. “But I’ve never–”

“I know. I can tell.”

Some vaguely cognizant part of Mui’s mind heard that and took the time to pray she meant she had used her Chosen’s abilities to determine his virginity, rather than some aspect of his behavior, but he feared that was a vain hope, and one that faded quickly from his consciousness. The rest of his mind was too busy slipping into a thought-muddling, arousal-inspired panic.

“But you know what you should be able to tell, Mui?” Her left hand slipped down, cupping his jaw, while her other went to the top of his head, holding him still. “How much I want this.”

She slowly closed his mouth, forcing him to breathe through his nose. Forcing him to take deep, heaving breaths of her, unavoidable as it was when their entire bodies were inches from being pressed together.

His first breath seemed to go through his head as if he were inhaling fire, lighting his skull with the thick, all-consuming scent of her arousal. It was a smell he’d only known from other catfolk, some unknowable combination of pheromones, sweat, and pure arousal, the very scent of her body’s slick in the air. He didn’t think it was quite like a true catfolk’s, even if Mui had only known it from when other soldiers had come back from some hidden rendezvous with their fur a mess. It had all the raw sensuality of that scent, the same kind that had made him plug his nose and make his excuses when others had been too soaked in their passion to know just how much they stank of it, but there was somehow more of it. Her scent was so thick on the air he could almost taste it, the hint of fine spices and lilac flowers, mixed with the dizzying cocktail of pure, overwhelming desire.

Before he knew what his body was doing, Mui found himself falling forward, burying his face into the crook of her neck, pressing his snout against her collarbone. He couldn’t stop himself from filling his mind with her, nuzzling almost drunkenly against her body.

She chuckled, wrapping her arms around his back as she leaned forward, closing the last of the distance between them. He was still in his armor, he couldn’t feel her body against his, but the mere pressure of it was enough to have him shivering, still drinking deeply of her scent.

“That’s a good boy,” she whispered, running her hands up and down his body wherever there was exposed fur to touch. “Do you believe me, now? That I want you?”

With a force of will more deserving of recognition than any of his actions on the battlefield, Mui dragged his snout off her body, panting into the air.

“I… we still shouldn’t…” he tried, one last attempt at reason.

“Why?” She asked, hugging him close. “Because I have a wife? Wives? Because we’re not married?”

“That’s…” Mui tried to shake his head, but he couldn’t even manage that. He knew there had been some things that told him he shouldn’t, but when he thought of them, he realized that none had ever really made sense. He’d have been a liar to claim that traveling beside a woman like her, the very divine icon of beauty, had left him with perfectly pure thoughts. He’d fought those impulses with vague ideas, notions about foreigners and Imperial soldiers, the sanctity of marriage, or maybe the risk of pregnancy. But when the actual opportunity had come, nothing stood up to scrutiny. Sara was an ally now, a friend of the Empire. She and her wives, all three of them, had never been shy about sharing their bodies with others. And she had her people’s strange herbs which unerringly warded off pregnancy, as much a miracle as any of her actions as the Chosen.

So why had he fought his impulses? Why had he hidden his mind from her hints and teasing? Why had he so passionately and willfully misinterpreted her advances?

“I’m nervous…” he whispered, the realization coming to him before he could think better of voicing it. Once it was said, he had no choice but to forge on, stuttering his way through his explanation, which he was discovering for himself only now. “You are so beautiful. And you’ve known so many beautiful women and men, and you’ve had them in your bed. And I have not even… Not so much as…”

Sara giggled. Not a cackle, or a sardonic chuckle, or any of the sarcastic amusements he had heard from her before. Just a simple, happy giggle.

“That’s okay,” she said. “Everyone’s nervous their first time. Just let me handle things, okay? I’ll teach you.”

“But if I–”

“You won’t.” Sara reached under his helmet once more, but this time she pulled upward, lifting it off his head. Her head came down even lower, so low she had to stoop, pulling her knee out from between his legs, so she could press her cheek against his, rubbing back and forth.

She was marking him. Mixing their scents together. How did she even have scent glands? He didn’t know, but he could tell she did. Her arousal in the air, the thick, heady smell of it, was suddenly muddled, joined by his own scent. Any catfolk they passed in the street, even the halfbreeds, they would all know. They would smell her on him, and him on her.

“Trust me,” she murmured. “This right here? What we’re going to do? It’s not for me. It’s for you. Just enjoy yourself, big man. You’ve earned it.”

Mui shuddered.

Sara pulled away, handing him back his helmet. She took him by the arm once more, guiding him onward. This time, however, she grabbed not his wrist, but his hand, lacing their fingers together.

Mui followed in a daze. His mind was fractured, trying to do too many things at once. He swallowed hard again and again as they walked down the street, suddenly paranoid he had food stuck between his teeth. When she found the inn she had been looking for, located on the third floor of some building he’d barely noticed they were approaching, he was wondering what his clothes looked like beneath his armor, praying he’d happened to choose one of his less moth-eaten sets. He never planned to take his armor off until the day was over, when he was in private. While she marched him up the stairs, his hand still in hers, he was trying to calm the thudding beat of his heart, which was pounding so loudly he was certain she could hear it, if not outright feel his pulse jumping in his palm.

It was only when the door of the room she had rented clicked shut that the world came back into focus, suddenly forcing him to acknowledge the fact that he was in a room, alone, with the Chosen of Emotion.

With Sara.

Who was taking her shirt off.

Mui’s chest froze at the threshold as she took one, two, three steps ahead of him, both her hands sliding down her hips towards the hem of her shirt. He followed the path her fingers traced, breathless. She had worn a white cloth shirt to the negotiations, something plain but well-made, something she’d said was a statement on her origins and intentions. Even then, he had failed to understand how it could achieve anything of the sort. Any clothing she wore, no matter how fine or poor, became something enchanting on her body. This ‘plain’ shirt hugged the curves of her waist and stomach as if it had been wetted with glue, peeling away only to meet the tight press of her breasts, the cleavage of which she’d allowed to peek through the collar above, showing just enough of her body to not cause outright scandal. A shirt that should have been as unremarkable as one leaf among thousands had become, on her, something that drew every eye on the street.

And then her hands reached the hem of her shirt, and Mui felt his definition of beauty shift.

She tugged the shirt off in one single motion, arms crossing over her head as she tossed it up and away, landing in some forgotten corner of the room.

She was wearing the garment she’d described before. A sports bra. Something that compressed her chest to make it easier to move. It was made of that strange, tight black material he had seen on occasion in Tulian, which she called azarketi nylon. It was elastic, wrapping her body without need of a single wire or obvious piece of stitching, but it was also thin. So thin he could see her nipples pressing through the surface, hard and perky.

“Well?” She asked, sporting a cocky smirk. “Are you going to keep your armor on? Or do I need to help you get it off?”

“You are… beautiful.”

Her smile did not falter, but an element of her cockiness did. Something more genuine, heartfelt, passed over her face. She took a step forward, reaching out for him.

“You know, you’d be surprised how rare it is that I hear someone tell me that,” she said, deft fingers picking apart his armor’s straps.

“How?” He breathed, belatedly moving to help her unbuckle his armor.

“I don’t know. I guess most people know I’m the Champion of Amarat, so they don’t think it really needs to be said.”

“I… I can’t think of much else to say,” Mui admitted, one of his forearm braces dropping to the floor with a metallic clank. “You are beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, once more slipping his helmet off. It, too, was dropped on the floor without a care. “And for the record, I think you’re hot as hell.”

“How?” He asked again. Her scent, her nakedness, the entire situation, they seemed to have robbed him of his vocabulary.

“You’re strong,” she said, shifting the hand that had been tugging at his belt upward, running over what little of his stomach she could reach beneath his chestplate. “Your fur is beautiful. That pure black, like velvet, and…” She ran her hand back down, towards his belt, then briefly reached lower, underneath his pants. “It’s as soft as it looks.”

Mui’s entire body froze, save for a shiver tearing through him. Her hand had reached the edge of the fluff around his crotch, the space where it puffed up and curled, and the barest graze of her fingertips sent a tingle of electricity through him.

Sara laughed fondly, pulling her hand away.

“Not to mention that you’re good with your sword and your spear. I don’t know what Level you are exactly, but Evie watched you spar with your squad. She thinks you’re better than you should be for your Level. Faster, stronger. More graceful. From her? That means a lot. And I’ve never seen a reason to disagree.”

Mui’s fingers felt like they had been dipped in ice, or maybe turned to lead. He couldn’t get a grip on the simplest of knots that kept his armor in place, not even when he used his claws.

“But more than that?” Sara said, brushing his hand aside to take over his disrobing, “You’re smart. You’re kind. You do things for the right reason, and you care about the right things. Maybe you’re a bit naive. Evie thinks so. But I think that’s cute. Five years in the army, and you still haven’t stopped caring about the little guy. That’s a lot rarer than you’d expect.”

With one quiet rasp that seemed to echo impossibly loud in Mui’s ears, the last strap of his chestplate came unbuckled. Sara peeled it away with a gentle touch, setting the armor aside.

Oh gods, Mui thought, watching her.

Sara bent down, kneeling, and began to remove the last of his armor, the cuisses which protected his thighs. She could have reached it by bending at the waist, but instead she knelt, bringing her face level with his waist.

Sara reached up and pressed gently against his lower stomach. Mui fell back, spine thumping against the room’s door, his quivering legs inordinately grateful for the support, because she didn’t stop moving forward.

Even as she began to unstrap his armor, her face continued onward, until her cheek pressed against his body, against the straining bulge which was pressing out against his ratty pants. If she noticed the condition of his clothes, she said nothing, if only because she was too distracted nuzzling in deeper, taking a long, powerful inhale through her nose.

“Gods,” she murmured, momentarily falling still herself as she… she just knelt there, unmoving, as if savoring his scent. The moment seemed to stretch into eternity, the pressure of her cheek against his straining intimacy almost torturously delightful.

Then she blinked, coming back to herself. She returned to taking off his armor, but this time she did so with a new urgency, jerking and tugging at the offending articles.

“Fucking… fucking pheremone bullshit,” she muttered. “Why can’t I just put ‘em out for you? Why do I have to feel them, too?”

“You c-can?” Mui stuttered. She’d not pulled her head away from his crotch, and it was taking all he had not to grind his hips forward, seeking the pressure of her body.

“Apparently,” she said, throwing one cuisse aside. She took a moment to run her hands up his thighs, appreciating his fur, then moved to the next. “I was hoping I wouldn’t. I wanted to be able to tease you with mine, but not feel it myself. Now it’s kind of backfiring.”

“How?” He asked yet again.

“Champion bullshit. What else?” She tossed the second cuisse away and then, with obvious reluctance, pulled her face off his body. “Or do you mean how is it affecting me?” She looked up, then frowned. “Hey. Shirt off. I want to see, and you can do that much yourself.”

“Both questions,” Mui said, dragging his limbs into motion to pull the ugly undershirt over his head.

“Well, for how, like I said, Champion bullshit.” Sara reached up and undid his belt with one sharp tug, sending it sailing across the room to crash loudly into the wall. Mui didn’t even know what the room looked like. He’d only been looking at Sara. “But if you want to know what you smell like to me right now?”

Mui stifled a groan that tried to pull itself out of his throat. She noticed it, of course. She always did. She smiled as she stood, grabbing him by the shoulders.

“You smell like the forest,” she said, stepping backward, taking him with her. “Like the jungle. Earthy. Homey. And like sweat. A good sweat, the kind of sweat you get from honest work. I can’t tell if it’s making me hungry, horny, or making me want to grab a hammer and get in the forge.”

Mui followed her in lockstep, his mind filled with buzzing nothings. At some point she turned them around, so that he was facing the door, walking backwards as she pushed him deeper into the room.

“And you smell nervous,” she said, slowing. “Excited, but worried.” Mui felt his thighs hit the edge of a bed. He stopped walking, but Sara didn’t. She shoved him back, tipping him onto the bed, which he hit with a dizzy bounce. In that moment, it was the most wonderfully comfortable mattress he’d ever felt. She stayed standing over him, her chest rising with every breath as she looked down on him, at his face, only to drag her eyes lower, past his neck, his stomach, stopping just below his belt.

“I can smell your cock, too” she purred, licking her lips. “It’s hard, isn’t it? I hope so. It smells so good, Mui.”

“It i-is,” Mui managed, answering her question as if she couldn’t see it for herself, tenting his pants as it was. He was so hard it hurt, a slight twinge of pain coming from how awkwardly it was stuffed into his clothes, but he hadn’t even had the thought to adjust it, because that might require looking away from Sara.

“Good.”

Her thumbs hooked at the edges of her pants and, without fanfare, shoved them down. Before he could even take in the long expanse of tanned human skin she had exposed, her hands flitted up to her bra, tugging at something behind her back.

And then, with the black nylon falling away as if it might take a thousand years to reach the ground, she was bared to Mui.

Her body was… beautiful. Perfect. He knew many catfolk who claimed they couldn’t be attracted to those without fur, but he was certain that if they were ever privy to what he had seen now, they would understand.

Her skin was soft beyond belief, light pooling in the crevasses of gentle curves, shifting across a body that was so tan for a northerner, so pale for a southerner. Every twist of her body seemed to reveal a new facet. Some preferred women with definition, some without, and while Mui had never discovered a preference within himself, she was somehow both. Where she tensed beneath her skin, there was evidence of a solid, unsurmountable wall of muscle, be it in the abs of her stomach or the bulge of biceps, only for that same tension to abruptly disappear as she relaxed, hiding beneath exquisite, delicate softness. It was like a mirage, a trick of the eye, allowing him to pick and choose whatever he found most appealing in the moment.

But he could not ignore her breasts. They were as perfect as he could have ever imagined. Freed from the bindings of her bra, they were even larger than he’d expected, yet not disproportionate in the slightest. Had she been any shorter or any thinner they may have looked out of place, but she wasn’t. It was as if her creamy flesh had been etched by a master sculptor, one who had endeavored to give form to a woman none could resist, no matter their preferences.

In a word?

Divine.

Even as he stared in awe, she bent forward, taking hold of his pants. With one swift jerk she tore them off, leaving him in nothing but his underwear. He watched her breasts bounce with the motion, so entranced that he barely noticed the way his hardness was only one thin layer from being exposed to the open air, visibly twitching with every thump of his heart. A small wet spot stained the edge of the cloth, highlighting the tip of the skin-tight bulge.

“You’re beautiful,” Mui found himself saying yet again.

“So are you,” Sara said, crawling onto the bed. It creaked under their combined weight, dipping him even further into the feathery comforter he’d fallen on top of.

Sara stopped crawling just when her waist was over his hips, hovering half a foot over his twitching hardness. Mui’s entire body was shivering, quivering with anticipation as if he was freezing, yet he had never felt warmer in all his life.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” She asked, resting a hand on his stomach, feeling his quivering for herself. “You don’t have to. I want to, but I want it because I respect you. Because you’re someone that’s worth showing a good time. Someone worth caring about.”

Mui’s head was swimming. They had done nothing yet, but the stench of sex was so thick in the air he could barely think. He could see, at the joining of her legs, the glistening drops of her arousal.

Did he want it?

Yes.

“I do,” he murmured, bringing his hands up to caress her thighs, which were parted on either side of his hips. He had heard her speak her concerns before, half in jest, half not, that her partners could not– literally, physically– resist her charms. He tried to think of the right thing to say, the right thing to show her that yes, he had really made this decision himself.

He smiled up at her, affecting some of that cocky smile she had shown him so shortly before. “I only worry you’ll ruin me for any woman I bed after you, Sara.”

She laughed, shaking out her hair so she could pull it back, slipping something off her wrist to tie it behind her head.

“Then I’ve got bad news, Mui,” she said, leaning forward, resting one elbow beside his head as her voice fell into a white-hot whisper. “That’s what I’m aiming for.”

She tipped her head to the side and, without warning, pressed her tongue to the side of his neck.

Mui’s back arched with a groan as she dragged it upward, her tongue impossibly rough, catching his fur in all the right ways, tugging at the skin beneath. He’d heard humans talk of marking one another by sucking hickeys into their skin, and though it had sounded nice when they described it, he couldn’t imagine it was anywhere near what he felt right then.

It was as if every strand of fur was connected directly to his spine, shooting crackles of static straight through his body and into his head. His hips thrust upward involuntarily, instinctively, chasing something he’d never felt before but suddenly knew he needed, but they couldn’t reach high enough.

He felt her chuckle into his fur, pulling away.

“You like that, big man?”

“G-gods-”

“Figured,” she whispered, using one hand to tilt his head the other direction.

Mui groaned aloud as she treated the other side of his neck to the same electrifying pleasure. He’d thought, like some damn fool, that he might manage to be more stoic, taking more of a lead in the moment.

It had taken all of two licks for him to become putty in her hands, and it took all he had left for his low groans to not turn into pitiable whining.

Their scents continued to mix together as she licked at him, her cheek rubbing against him as she lavished his neck, his chin, his collarbone with slow licks, every stroke sending his eyes fluttering.

He wanted to do something for her. To return the pleasure. But when he brought his hands up, trying to bring her down for… something, he didn’t even know, she instead caught his wrists, moving them to her breasts.

Mui groaned even louder as she kept licking, taking her breasts in both hands. They were so soft, like silk beneath his palms.

He didn’t even realize he’d frozen in awe until Sara spoke in his ear. “Squeeze them,” she whispered. “Feel them up. Pinch my nipples just a little bit, maybe give them a tug. Do whatever you feel like, really. Most girls love it. I know I do. You’ll know when I’m enjoying it.”

Mui, ever the dutiful soldier, took to his orders without delay.

He pawed and kneaded at her breasts, feeling the way they were shaped by his attentions. He almost couldn’t believe how soft they were, much less that he could actually touch them, and even as he began to move, a part of him remained hesitant.

At least until he brushed her nipple and, for the first time that evening, pulled a small sound from Sara’s lips. Just a little muffled grunt, not enough to distract her from licking his upper body, but more than enough to set a fire in him.

Mui began to pinch at her breasts, one at a time, rubbing the other with his hands until he would suddenly switch, following nothing more than his own whimsy. Sara first made a little mumble of delight, then a small groan. He pinched and teased again and again, delighting in everything he could do. The sounds of Sara’s pleasure, of her enjoying his touch, were almost more intoxicating than her scent. When he first pinched just right, pressing deeply with his other hand, and finally forced her to pull away from his neck to let out an open-mouthed moan? It was almost like he was high, hallucinating the impossible.

But this was no hallucination. As if in reward, or maybe because she simply forgot to keep herself up, Sara’s hips finally dropped down.

Mui gasped as absolute, utter heat pressed against his crotch. He could feel her slickness even through his underwear, could feel the way her thighs wrapped around his hips, burying him in warmth.

He thrust upward reflexively, seeking more pressure, and Sara didn’t pull away. She ground her own hips back down, meeting him in a motion that had them both frozen, groaning through their teeth.

“S-shit,” Sara muttered, wrapping his head in her hands. She brought her mouth down, spending a long time pressing a hard, deep kiss to the top of his snout, her hips still pressing as hard as she could manage into his pelvis. When she pulled away, her eyes were lidded. “Why the fuck do you still have your underwear on?”

“I don’t know,” Mui answered honestly. Then he looked down, at his own hands. “Oh,” he said, tweaking one of Sara’s nipples. “That’s why. I’d have to let go of these.”

Sara laughed, a wondrous sound made all the more beautiful when she tried to lean back, inadvertently turning her mirth into a long, drawn-out moan as she ground her sex against Mui’s body.

“Fine, fine,” she said, breathing hard. “Keep your prizes. I’ll handle this.”

If she thought Mui had been kidding when he said he didn’t want to let go of her breasts, he wasn’t. Even as she lifted herself off of him, an agonizing thing in itself, he kept his hands on her breasts, following her every motion as she dragged his underwear down his legs.

When Mui’s erection popped free of his underwear, he heard Sara swallow thickly. She slid further back, removing that radiating heat from his crotch in the same motion that forced him to sit up, all so he wouldn’t lose hold of her chest.

She knelt on the bed, straddling his calves. Her eyes were locked onto his… his erection. She was staring at it. Silent. Through his hands on her chest, he felt a shudder roll through her.

An old insecurity tore itself free from his subconscious, one he had not thought about in years. Was that a shudder like his own, or was it one of revulsion? Stories from other catfolk men that had been with human women floated through his bed, tales of having taken a woman with them to bed, only to suddenly find themselves being cast aside in disgust when their clothes came off.

His erection was not like a cat’s, not fully, but neither was it like most human men’s. It was red from the point where it emerged from the base of his fur, slick and shining, wet from a mixture of Sara’s arousal that had soaked through his underwear and the fluid dribbling from its tip. It was bulbous in shape, three progressively larger bumps running up from the base, ending in a narrow, hard tip. It didn’t have the spikes of housecats like some women apparently feared, but it was still meant to be buried deep, to not be removed, the greatest pleasure brought from its thick base. It was not human, and worse still, it wasn’t even particularly large. He had seen other catfolk men bathing and knew he was average at best, when Sara had no doubt seen so many more impressive, far more familiar erections.

“It’s a-alright if you-”

Sara’s head darted down faster than he could blink, his hands thrown off her chest as she buried her face at the base of his cock. She layed it across her lips, just beneath her nose, and took a long, shuddering breath, open-mouthed, eyes glazing over as she brought her tongue out.

“G-gods!” Mui cried as her tongue lapped at him.

The same heat of before, the heat of her arousal, was suddenly on him. Her tongue was molten pleasure, rough and soft all at once, and it fractured his every thought. He abandoned any idea of touching her chest, of touching her in general, his body first going tense at her touch, then collapsing, the world spinning as his head bounced off the mattress.

He could hear her panting beneath him. As her tongue ran up his length, slathering his erection in saliva, her hand wrapped around the base, squeezing tight. He could feel her breath rushing over him, an animalistic, eager joy evident in every puff.

“S-Sara,” he whined. “I can’t– I won’t–”

She reached the tip. She spent a moment pressing her lips there, kissing him, and then pressed downward, splitting her mouth open.

Mui’s claws sprung from his fingers as he took hold of the comforter on either side of him, mindless profanity spilling from his lips. It was so hot. Her mouth was like lava, like fire, but the fire of a beautiful campfire on a cold night, the hearth of a home that he had finally returned to and never, ever wanted to leave again.

Her tongue writhed against the underside of his dick as she continued to slide it into her mouth, taking her time to savor every inch. He couldn’t find the strength in his body to lift his neck up to look, but he didn’t need to, because his nerves were alight with a sensitivity he had never known in all his life. He could feel her begin to suck, tightening the already unbelievable pressure into something utterly exquisite, then he felt her tongue roll against him, massaging everything it could reach.

Suddenly, to his shock, he felt the back of her throat. He finally managed to bring himself up on his elbows, looking down at her.

She didn’t notice. Her eyes were closed, one hand wrapped around the base of his erection, the other reaching between her legs, rubbing furiously. There were maybe two or three inches of his dick outside her lips, and as she paused with the tip at the entrance of her throat, he felt the impulse to speak out, wondering if he should say she didn’t have to go any further.

A decision that was stolen from him as she took one last breath through her nose, eyes rolling in delight as she took in his scent, then shoved forward.

Mui cried out almost silently as that wet heat wrapped him entirely, replacing her hand around his cock. He could feel her throat tensing around him, massaging his length just like her tongue, which was writhing against the base of his cock like she never wanted to forget the memory. Even the hand between her legs stilled, falling down, all her mind focused on the cock in her throat.

Then her head began to bob, and Mui’s world went to pieces.

The sound of it, the feel of it, everything about it, it was all too much. She slurped eagerly, groaning with delight every time she came up for a breath. Her hips slowly fell down on the bed as she was consumed by her task, slipping away as if she’d forgotten she had any part of her body beyond her throat, until she was lying prone, her perky ass as beautiful a sight as her breasts had been. She couldn’t bring herself to leave his cock for long enough for her hands to have anything to do, so instead one went to his leg, running through his fur, while the other went beneath his cock, massaging his balls.

Mui couldn’t last. He wouldn’t last. It had been ten seconds, maybe fifteen, but this was… It was heaven. It was a delight not made for man to know.

“Sara,” he gasped in warning, “Sara, if you don’t stop, I’m going to–”

As if that had been some hidden signal, she threw herself forward, black ponytail bouncing as she took Mui as deep as she could, using her grip on his legs to encourage him deeper, lifting his hips to help his cock get as deep as possible.

Mui froze, trying to hold off, to not ruin it already, every muscle clenched as he tried to resist–

But who was he kidding?

Mui’s hips threw themselves forwards as he began to cum, instinct overriding his respect as he thrust hard into Sara’s throat, burying himself in the glorious, wondrous heat.

He wasn’t sure if the high-pitched whine of delight came from Sara or him. Maybe both.

His cock pulsed against her tongue, against her throat, his body trembling as fire shot through his veins, white cum shooting out into Sara. It was like he’d gone blind, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, feeling nothing other than her throat, which began to convulse around him as she swallowed again and again, head bobbing as she took pulse after thick pulse into her body.

Mui didn’t know how many times he pumped his hips into her throat, didn’t know when his hands had ended up wrapped around the ponytail she’d tied. He only knew when it ended, his body collapsing, drained, chest heaving.

Sara didn’t pull away for a long time. She kept herself impaled on his cock, still licking, still swallowing. Mui’s sense of time was as destroyed as the rest of his grip on reality, but after a certain while, he started to grow concerned. Her eyes were fluttering, pupils growing distant.

With another heroic effort of will, Mui tugged at her ponytail, unsheathing himself from her throat.

Sara’s eyes widened suddenly as she gasped, her mind coming back into focus. He expected her to begin coughing, or maybe to spit out what she hadn’t swallowed, but instead she threw her head back down, smearing her own face with saliva and cum as she rubbed her nose across his cock.

“Oh,” she muttered, voice hoarse. “Oh, gods. Gods, Evie needs to try this.”

Fresh off the first orgasm of his life that hadn’t been from his own hands, still barely able to consider the fact that one woman was interested in him, Mui… did not have the mental faculties required to process that statement. He fell back onto the bed instead, letting the thought of Evie and Sara, faces pressed side by side between his thighs, drift away on a cloud of pleasure like the rest of his mind.

“I’m sorry,” he eventually rasped, surprising himself with the scratchiness of his own voice. Had he… screamed his orgasm? Possibly, he was forced to admit. He couldn’t remember. Swallowing, he grimaced, forcing his scattered thoughts back in line. “I wanted to hold off. So I could please you, too.”

“Well, first of all,” Sara said, still happily nuzzling his erection, “I love sucking cock. And you’ve got a great cock for sucking. So no problems there. And secondly…” She raised herself up just a bit, enough to look him in the eye, and focused for a moment. “When you’re fucking me, you won’t ever have to worry about how many times you cum.”

Mui was taken aback by a sudden wave of arousal that roared through him, thundering out of his chest to consume the rest of his body, as if she hadn’t ever so much as touched him. Her grip on his erection, which a moment ago had been sensitive almost to the point of pain, suddenly became just as tantalizing as it had before. His heart began to pound in his ears, and with it rose his cock, throbbing back to life.

Sara smiled smugly, keeping one hand on his growing cock as she sat back up, bringing her hips forward.

Mui’s eyes widened as he felt the exquisite heat of her body near him once more, the rough patch of freshly shaved stubble just over her core rubbing against his length.

“As… much as I want?” He asked breathlessly.

“You could paint me white, if you wanted to,” Sara said. She chuckled, giving his cock a pump. “And I want you to.”

His breath started coming faster once again, fatigue fleeing his body, replaced by arousal and– if he was honest– a minor amount of trepidation.

“No wonder you’re so hard to find at night…” he muttered, puzzle pieces clicking together.

Sara laughed, grinding her hips forward.

Mui hissed as her lower lips split over his cock, adding her slick to the saliva and cum already coating it.

“Did you take that… that potion?” He asked, squirming beneath her.

“You kidding me? With a woman like Evie hanging around?” Sara’s grinding reached the head of Mui’s cock, surrounding it in a mind-erasing heat, only for her to begin slowly, torturously sliding backward. She laughed as he groaned, grabbing fistfuls of the sheets. “I down one of those bottles in the morning and one at night, every day.”

“That’s g-good,” Mui managed, twisting his wrists as her weight settled once more on the base of his cock. He could feel his pulse trying to send it jumping, thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump, but her hips wouldn’t let it so much as twitch.

“Oh?” She ran her hands up her body, flat palms tracing the curves of her hips, running over her breasts, her neck, only to reach up and snap the band in her hair, letting black curls cascade over her shoulders once more. “Why is that good?” She asked, tilting her body forward. Hair fell from her shoulders like waterfalls of ink, surrounding Mui’s head, covering him even more in the scent of her, blocking all the world from his sight save her smirking face.

“It’s good because… of what I do with Evie?” She reached up, dropping her pointer finger on his collarbone. “You don’t want me to knock her up?”

Her finger began to trail downward in a lazy curve, the nail scraping a line of fire across Mui’s skin. “Or is it because you want to do something else to me?”

She spread her palm out as she reached his stomach, pressing against his abs. “Or… is it because you want to cum in me, Mui?” Her head darted down, swiping another electrifying lick of her tongue up his throat, her soft breasts pressed against his chest.

She tilted her head up and whispered into his ear. “I think… that you… want to shove your cock in me.”

Her hips rocked. Mui whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Are you wondering what it’s like?” She purred, filling his sightless world with her words. “To be inside me? To stuff me full of your cock? To feel me clenching around you? To have me riding you, bouncing up and down, over and over again, as fast as I can, until it feels too good, until you can’t hold back any more, and I finally get what I want from you?”

Her hand kept moving lower. Until it reached the bottom of his stomach, then slid up, onto his cock. Caressing its tip with the slightest of touches, barely enough for him to notice, yet it made his eyes roll all the same.

“What will it feel like when you make me cum?” Sara asked. Her hand curled around his cock, tightening ever so slightly. “I will, you know. You’ve got me so fucking worked up, Mui. I’m so close already. Your body, your scent, your moans, hells, everything you are, it’s all driving me crazy. I’ll probably cum before you do. What do you think it’ll sound like? When I’m crying out your name, shaking like a leaf on top of you? Because of your cock?”

Mui felt like he was going insane. He had never desired something so bad, had never felt so desired. He felt feverish, delirious, yet he’d never been more awake in all his life, desperate to etch in stone every trembling whisper so that he would never forget a thing about this night.

And for all that, she was just talking. Talking talking talking, teasing, whispering sweet nothings in his ear as if he wasn’t aching with desire. Why? What did she want from him? Why torture him like this?

With a clawing, desperate effort, his pheromone-muddled mind cobbled the pieces together.

She wanted him to take some kind of initiative, didn’t she?

Mui rolled his hips up, grinding his cock against her slit. “Please,” he said, just a touch away from a plaintive whine, “just get on with it. I’m ready.”

“Oh?” She pulled just far enough away from his neck to show him a smarmy smirk. “You are? Then what are you doing just laying there?”

“You are stronger than me,” he said, the last word fading to a gasp as she wiggled her hips side to side. “I couldn’t force anything if I… oh… if I tried.”

Her smile grew. With a roll of her shoulders, she sat up once more, looking down on him.

“I knew it. A sub at heart.”

“Wha-”

Before Mui could even try to understand, one smooth motion saw Sara lifting her hips and grabbing his cock, pressing the tip to her entrance.

Mui’s hands flung to her thighs once more, claws involuntarily popping free, like he was dangling at the edge of a cliff.

He could feel the tip of his cock pressing against her heat. He could see it. He could see the precum dribbling off its red tip, running in a silvery rivulet down the side. The very end of his cock had split her lips, but it hadn’t gone any further. Her own arousal shone in the gemlight, slick and plentiful, practically dripping down her thighs. It was that sight more than anything else that he found hardest to believe. That she was wet for him. Sara Brown, the most beautiful woman in the world, was soaking wet for a nobody sergeant, a random soldier who had never done anything of note.

As if she saw the insecurity bubbling up in him, Sara began to lower her hips.

Mui’s body tried to buck upward into that intoxicating, perfect heat, pure instinct robbing him of control of his own limbs. He got nowhere, Sara’s palm on his pelvis keeping him pinned in place.

“Eager are we, big boy? Not that I can–” Sara paused to sigh in satisfaction as she lowered herself further down on Mui’s cock, “–that I can blame you,” she finished, eyes fluttering.

“Faster,” he muttered, surprising himself. He gave another hopeless thrust of his hips, as useless as the first. “Faster, please,” he repeated.

To his shock, Sara obliged him.

Two moans filled the air as she let her legs fall limp, dropping her pelvis onto his with a bed-creaking smack.

Mui’s clenched eyes shot open as he gasped. He felt each ridge of his cock bury itself into her, one after the other, each inch tighter than the last. She was so wet that even his base, wider than most humans’, slipped in without so much as a twinge of effort.

He felt a ripple of spasmodic clenching roll down his cock as Sara gasped, fingers curling in his fur. He could see her stomach writhe with delight as she was split open, her eyes going wide and distant.

“So fucking thick,” she groaned.

“You’re so tight,” Mui gasped back. “I-I won’t be able hold it–”

“Thank god for that,” Sara moaned. Without warning, she began to grind, stirring Mui’s cock inside her.

He lost control of his voice. His moan was loud and high-pitched, a kitten’s mewling. He could feel her body’s every twinge, her own pleasure practically radiating into him. He began to roll his hips in time with her rocking, arcing upward for every last inch, burying himself as deep as he could.

Sara panted in time with his thrusts, first just breathing heavily, then moaning, every noise twisting just a bit closer to a cry of ecstasy.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted, throwing her entire body into every roll of her hips. Her breasts bounced in hypnotizing waves, her hair growing slick with sweat as her face swirled with pleasure.

The molten silk that was wrapped around his cock was like nothing he’d ever felt, nothing he’d even imagined, and it was sweeping his mind away on a tsunami of mindless bliss.

“Come on, come on,” Sara urged, her entire body shaking. She fell forward, catching herself by slamming her palms on the bed to either side of Mui’s head, eyes closed in rapturous focus. “Cum in me, cum in me, please. You smell so fucking good, taste so fucking good, I want to feel it in me, I need it so bad–”

He’d never stood a chance.

Strength like he’d never known seized Mui as he threw his hips upward, digging his claws into her hips as he dragged her down.

Sara’s mouth opened, a silent cry taking her as she froze in place, impaled on Mui’s cock.

He began to throb.

As one they began trembling, quivering against one another. Mui’s world was Sara’s, Sara’s was Mui’s. His cock, already aching, somehow grew harder, her body squeezing him as if it would never let go.

The first pulse shot out of his cock to the sound of a wild, animalistic grunt, his jaw clenching as he shoved hard, as hard as he could into Sara.

“F-f-f-fucking Muuuuii,” she cried, shaking, grabbing his fur so hard it hurt, dragging him up into her.

The second throbbing pulse came an instant later as he cried out as well, maybe saying her name, maybe babbling nothing at all, and he would never know, because he could spare nothing save for the thought of her, of her delicate, wondrous body, of his cum coating her deep inside, of his jaw tensing and his toes curling, his muscles straining so hard that it should have hurt but it didn’t, it couldn’t, because there was too much bliss tearing through his mind, shredding every concern and anxiety he’d ever had to meaningless tatters in the face of exquisite, beautiful, primal satisfaction.

He didn’t count how many times his cock unloaded into her, but it felt like a thousand. Sara’s voice went hoarse as she called out his name over and over again, until it finally, mournfully ended, their climaxes fading with the rumbling echo of a distant thundercrack.

Sara dropped down on top of him, breasts smothering him. Mui fell limp, some faraway thought telling him that he should apologize because he hadn’t been able to control himself. He’d dragged his claws down her hips, drawing bloody streaks. He couldn’t voice it, though, because his tongue and lips felt numb, and they were buried in the most wonderful softness he’d ever known. He began to drift away, exhaustion ambushing him like a tiger in the night.

And then he felt Sara’s pussy tighten slightly.

Another wave of arousal washed over him. His cock, which had been softening, abruptly stiffened. His pounding heart stopped slowing, his head clearing.

Sara dragged herself off of him, just by a few inches, and cupped his face in her hands, running a thumb over his whiskers.

“You feel so fucking good,” she whispered, pressing her nose to his, rubbing side to side. “Too good.”

Mui swallowed as she shifted once more, stirring his cock inside her. If she’d lifted her hips, cum would have come leaking out, but she hadn’t allowed them to separate by even a fraction of an inch.

“I can… I think I can find it in myself to try again,” he rasped.

“Good,” Sara said, leaning back, until she was straddling him properly again. She grabbed his hand, placing it on her core, just above where their bodies were joined. “Because I’m going to make sure you can ruin any girl you fuck. Put your thumb here, alright? Right on t-t-that,” Sara gasped for breath as Mui applied pressure. “Y-yeah. There. Now, when I’m moving, you just need to rub in little circles…”

Mui listened intently to her every word, taking to the lessons as well as he could. He already felt close again, as if just having Sara teaching him was enough to get him off.

But what does it matter if I cum again? He realized. I don’t have to worry, not with her. We could spend hours like this if we wanted to…

Suddenly, Evie’s earlier words came flashing back through his head. That she would see Sara in “four or five hours.”

Oh gods, he thought. Four hours? Five? Of this?

Sara began to grind, pulling another moan from them both.

I… I guess I can stay. For the– oh, gods– for the lessons.

Sara raised her hips up, sliding off of Mui for a brief moment, then dropped back down. Cum leaked from her, dripping down his cock as she raised herself up, then the white streaks disappeared as she took Mui to the hilt. Watching the sight, Mui felt a new sound tear itself from his throat– a rumbling, hungry growl.

“Oh?” Sara asked, raising an eyebrow. “What was that, big boy? See something you like?”

Mui grabbed her hips tight.

Will five hours be enough?

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