maybeElse

Her hand on your cheek as she guides you down, careful to keep her claws just away from your skin. You're so close to her, lost in the heat of her body and the smell of her delicious spicy musk.

It's almost too much as you settle onto your knees and look up at her, at the marbled purple and red of her body and the ample fullness of her breasts and the horns curling from her head far above; she's so large, so strong. She could break you without even trying, and the thought of that always makes your heart quiver and your cheeks burn.

“Well, pet? Don't make me wait.”

Her voice is sonorous and rich and tugs at something deep within you just as much as the rest of her does; your body moves without thought, eagerly reaching towards her crotch, her smell your mind to bursting as you touch and lick and suck and lose yourself in service—

One of her hands closes around the back of your head and she forces you in even closer, using you just as she would a toy, just a thing to give her pleasure—

Growled praise and gasps and moans fill your ears as she uses you, and with each word and each taste of her and each gasping breath your body quivers, thighs clenching uselessly in pursuit of something that only she can give you, something that you'll only find in the burst of sympathetic pleasure when you finally coax her to climax—

You know, in the tiny part of your mind that can still know anything outside the moment, that it will be an unbearably long wait, that she will fuck herself on your face for hours until she finally decides to finish. By the time she's done with you you'll be sore and exhausted and thoroughly satisfied.

But that doesn't seem so important, not when you could focus on giving her as much pleasure as you possibly can instead.