Bred for Pleasure

"More," she mumbled. And he kept on with her feet raking his thumbnails along the tender arches until she nearly came. But then he began on her right ankle and the heat subsided a notch. His fingers massaged each calf, working out the stiffness, warming the skin as Meghan drifted on a plateau of pleasure. No Adventure could be this thrilling, could it?

Rake circled her right thigh with both hands and pressed upward, his thumbs moving along the silky skin of her inner thigh to brush increasingly close to her labia. He pushed further and pivoted his palms around her buttocks to squeeze with his fingers, hard. Back to her knees, then again up her legs, teasing at her opening with each pass. When Rake squeezed her buttocks she felt his tail sliding along her thigh, each little digit plucking at her skin. She sensed his cock swinging above her, imagined his hands holding her shoulders against the bed while easing himself down...

"Wait," Meghan said and turned herself over. She wanted to watch him work. Placing a finger on her breast she said, "Touch!"

Rake lay oozing fingers around each breast and gently squeezed, his palms pressing her tingling nipples. Looking down she saw his cock dripping, too, leaving drops on her leg. She pointed at one and commanded, "Lick!" Rake moved down and lapped at her thigh and she quivered. Meghan pointed to her mons and commanded, "Lick!" and, nostrils flaring at her musk, Rake ran his tongue across the bare mound.

"Good, boy!" She quavered, "Good, god-damned boy!" Meghan stroked his mane, curled her fingers in the black, shiny hair, rubbed his satiny ears, began curling her hips up. She closed her eyes, unable to look him in the face, unwilling to see the vacancy there, the eager-to-please simple-mindedness of her Companion. She was proud to have such a well trained beast, felt a little superior to her friends, was happy to rise into this long forgotten joy. So what if they would never discuss politics or art. Maybe that was a good thing. Unconditional love had few downsides.

Rake's tongue wormed into the cleft between her mons and her left thigh, then he licked across her mons again and plunged into the cleft on the right, his beard a steel wool tickle. "So well trained," she thought as the teasing brought her closer. For long minutes he licked at her, trailing his tongue closer to her clitoris with each stroke. Pinching her nipples, his fingers massaged oil into her breasts as he lay between her legs.

Meghan ground her hips and finally tongue and clit met, one wet organ against another and she thrashed through an explosion of pleasure. Her legs clamped his head, the mane against her thighs like velvet. She rose up and he kept on lapping. She squealed and he grunted. Meghan wanted him inside and he kept on licking as she sweated and shook.

"When is he going to do it?" she agonized. Then Meghan realized he would wait for her command. Of course. "Stop!" she panted and pushed him back. Rake knelt on the mattress trembling eagerly, a smile curling his open, wet lips, panting, his mane wild.. His cock rose up obsidian black and hard. The QuiverTail whipped quickly side-to-side, digits grasping at air. She rolled onto her stomach again.

"Mount!" she said, raising her buttocks, face on the mattress, fingers gripping wads of damp sheet. Her nostrils filled with their sweaty, musky, salty animal odor. Hands gripped her ass, then slid along her spine. She felt his body heat as he moved closer. The tail wrapped her leg and pulled at her and suddenly the blunt, black cock nuzzled into her crotch. He thrust and it deflected, sliding down along her wet clit, making her more eager. Meghan reached and touched it for the first time, feeling the hard, thick rod, the soft, slippery sheath, the ropy shaft, dripping with both their fluids. She aimed him, said "Mount!" again and he pressed his cock home.

Meghan screamed as he divided her, filling her, driving her face into the bed, muffling her sounds. And then his tail curled down between their legs and began stroking her belly. It worked its soft digits across her mons and, like the gentlest of fingers, played with her clit. Another shriek broke from her and she quaked, unable to keep herself above the bed. Her hips collapsed to the mattress as Rake continued thrusting, the tail squirming in the wet, hot trap under her as it caressed her clit and rubbed her distended labia.

Meghan lost the ability to speak, couldn't command him if she tried. Rake raised up his head, mane flying, hands on her shoulders and howled at the top of his lungs as he came, clamping her legs together with his own, entire body arched and rigid. Meghan felt the cock pulse as the tail plucked at her. She filled with heat. Rake convulsed again and again, then finally collapsed over her, panting hard.

Many long minutes later Meghan had the strength to speak. "Rake, roll over," she said and he released her to stumble to her feet. He curled up and slept. Meghan stood in the shower caressing herself slowly down from the peak, letting the hot water lick at her body taking the man-Companion's oil. But she realized on drying herself that the oil had been massaged in deep. She was going to smell like him now. She'd been marked.

Well, who would care but herself. She kind of liked it. She had been a long time alone.