Foxbutt Ch. 05

"'kay," says Thomas, and squeezes back, their lips touching.

Lily parts her teeth and lets Thomas feel the very tip of her tongue - the inside of his mouth is hot and wet and full of points and within seconds the tip is not enough and she slides her tongue into him, exploring, curious, passionate.

He makes the sound halfway between a moan and a contented sigh, the appropriately appreciative sound for when your mouth is full of someone else's tongue, and she feels its vibration against her.

I love it when guys make sounds like that. Lily expresses this by mmphing back into Thomas' mouth, as she runs her tongue along his fangs. She gives Thomas a lick against his own tongue, which responds with a caress against hers. She feels her grip tightening on his pointy ear, and eases off lest she hurt him. Her other hand drifts down his back, feeling his solid presence, the rise and fall of his chest, his rapid heartbeat.

She lets her tongue retreat. "Can I play with your tail?" she asks, blushing.

She hears an embarrassed chuckle.

"Please?" she teases. "You have the advantage of me," she whispers.

"Howso?" says Thomas, his breath hot on her face.

"You can see how hard I'm blushing," she admits quietly into the darkness, squeezing her thighs together.

"In that case, okay," says Thomas, and she can hear the smile in his voice.

She strokes downwards with her left hand, feeling the base of Thomas' tail, while her right hand plays with his ear. She looks straight ahead into what she thinks must surely be Thomas' eyes.

Thomas moans softly, a deep and masculine and breathy "Huhh," and Lily feels a thrill run up her spine, his breath hot on her wet lips.

She strokes gently down as much of Thomas' tail as she can reach - when she finds that limit, she feels him move, and her forearm is wrapped in a coil of soft, writhing fur.

"Ouph," she breathes, feeling Thomas' whiskers on her lips, his mouth slightly open, his heartbeat fast against hers. "You have a sexy tail, Thomas." She strokes his ear between her fingers.

"Thankyou," breathes Thomas. "It's still moving by itself." His voice is shaky, and his hips are twitching backwards, pushing his tail into her hand.

"Does this feel good, for you?" asks Lily. "What I'm doing here? Your tail seems to like it."

"Ah," says Thomas. "Yes," he whispers. "The rest of me likes it too."

"Good," says Lily, stroking, "'cause I'm kinda making it up as I go along." She sticks her tongue out and licks, sensually, across his lips. "D'you like that?"

"Yes..." says Thomas, shivering against her.

Lily pushes her hips forwards gently. "Is it sensitive? Should I be gentle, or more rough?"

"It's very sensitive..." whispers Thomas, and she gets the feeling his eyes are closed. His muzzle slides past her cheek as he presses himself against her, his hands at her shoulders and lower back, squeezing firmly.

Lily feels his hardness pressing against her inner thigh, and squirms happily. She grins into his ear, and whispers. "Why mister Fox, what's this?" She giggles and pushes her hips forwards, soft into hard - she strokes her fingers from Thomas' tail to his right buttock, and pulls him against her, squeezing gently. He's soft, but she can feel him tensing firm in her grip.

"Uff," says Thomas, his whiskers tickling her ear. "That's, uh..."

"Now I can tell at least one part of you is blushing," she whispers into his ear. "So much for your advantage. Go get some candles so I can look at you." She pats him gently on his bottom, and relaxes so he can stand up.

"Alright," says Thomas, his voice dreamlike and almost panting from somewhere above her. "Just a minute."

"Be quick," she says into the darkness, hearing footsteps padding away from her. She squirms on the couch, feeling the emptiness where he lay a moment ago - she presses her thighs together, and feels satisfying warmth and dampness inside her jeans. Her body aches to be touched, and her mind yearns for a good look at him. She breathes heavily through her nose, lust and curiosity mixed together into an almost overwhelming desire. She hears Thomas opening drawers in the kitchen, and she imagines his motions as she matches them to the sounds she hears, and is shocked - but not especially surprised - to feel herself becoming even more aroused just at the image of him stalking around in the dark, his tail swirling around his knees, his erection straining against his jeans. The way he moves is intoxicating.

I might just end up fucking on the first date, here. Or at the very least getting naked and fooling around with this guy.

Another flash through the window - Lily counts. One one-thousand, two one-thou- bang. Further away, at least.

She stretches languidly on the couch as she hears him approach - there's a clicking sound and a flicker, and Thomas holds a little tealight in the flame of the lighter.

She observes him in the flickering candlelight. It dances warmly on his fur, glints from his eyes, plays wetly along Lily's saliva still clinging to his coal-black lips. She watches his forearms as he takes another candle from the pack, lights it in the flame of the first.

"Give me some," says Lily, rising and holding out her hands. She lights one from Thomas' first, then she moves around his apartment.

Two in the tiny kitchen, set on the counter near to where she touched his tail for the first time.

One in the bathroom, on the sink next to the razor she obsessed over.

She returns to the living room, and places one more next to the two that Thomas had already set down on the coffee table next to the pizza they shared - she gives him a flirty little grin, saying nothing, letting him watch her walk away from him and towards his bedroom.

She opens the door, one lit candle in her left hand, two remaining in her right.

The smell of him.

Thomas' room smells of laundry, and Thomas, and rain. It's louder in here - he sleeps with the window open, thinks Lily, and forgot to close it this morning, because he was so distracted by being a sexy fox. She sets down a candle on his bedside table, lights it - another on his dresser, and one more on the windowsill, closing the window as she does so.

She turns around - Thomas isn't standing in the doorway, he's standing a few feet back from it, watching her, a black pointed-ear silhouette against warm candlelight from the living room.

He doesn't want to put himself between me and the exit, thinks Lily. Is that because he's a considerate man, or because he's a considerate fascinating-and-slightly-scary mythical creature?

She smiles at him, extends the index finger of her right hand, and beckons him in.