The night was warm, the cool veil that normally came with starry skies overwhelmed by summer's air. But Fiaro felt even hotter than that. It was a restlessness born not from any temperature, he was a fire-type after all, but more from a sort of... pressure that he felt, a years-long pressure that had been building and building and constantly suppressed down. It had never been so difficult as today. Just something that tickled the back of his mind as he moved through the streets, swept through his body as he hobbled on unsteady talons or just fluttered from perch to perch while mingling with the land-bound folk. Suppressed. Ignored. No matter how close he might have gotten to his desires.

No, what he felt now was heat, the heat of bound energy, of tightness, stretching from his thighs all the way up to his neck, though most of it was focused in his loins. It was deep, deep enough that he knew just some casual rub wouldn't be enough, not on his own anyways. He tried, but his own feathers were barely enough stimulation to make the edges of his vent flex, the cozy under feathers bristling around the wrinkled edges as he rubbed his wing on down. It was a familiar sensation. Too familiar. His body was in need, and it needed something more! With a frustrated squawk, with a bit of liquid drooling from the slightest gap between his feathery legs, he burst out of his cozy resting place and took wing to the night sky. Silent, searching. A predator's gaze swept over his city.



...Fiaro was panting as hopped onto the windowsill. It was a good-sized home, a quiet home, some wealthy trader that could afford to give his family an upgrade from the usual cottage-like structures that decorated this town. It even had glass windows, the absolute luxury compounded by wide wooden shutters that were spread wide open to let in the moonlit air. He spied his prey within- A Torchic girl, barely out of her toddler years, sleeping calmly on her bed, unaware of her unexpected visitor, looking oh-so-very tender and soft. An excellent meal, or maybe just a snack, at any time. But the falcon was not here to satisfy his hunger in relation to food. No, a different type of hunger had lured him to this prey, and as his eyes swept over the richly decorated room, he could feel the heat in his groin flare. He was hobbling in a way that had nothing to do with his normal bird's gait- One of his wings had flung down to rub at himself, to greet the emerging, rubbery taper as it squished into his feathers and spilled itself free! The edges of his vent bulging into his own touch, yearning for more, for something denser than his own wing. He could feel his shaft spilling out across his own feathers, the protective juices that kept him supple and slick in his own vent coating the fibers over, slipping them over rapidly, until he could feel the faint coolness that came about from something so hot being so exposed to the air!

He wasn't really thinking about what he was doing, it was an act of nerves and instincts. The torchic was sprawled in her bed, sheets and blankets shed to try and stay cool, and while he couldn't make out the most intimate of details in the moonlight, he could tell she was naked. He could just barely imagine the little crease nestled between her legs, supple and small. But while his loins had guided him this far, his rational mind decided to intervene now, reminding him of the situation he was in. That he'd be in immense trouble if he got caught, even now as he just stood there and waited and listened, his tapered shaft fully erect and pulsing in a dull manner against the air. But he hadn't been caught; not yet at least. There was no sounds coming from the rest of the house. And he knew that he had come too far to be able to just give up now... Yet, he also didn't feel like he actually dared to go further. Trapped in this dilemma, he had subconsciously begun pacing around in the bedroom, not even noticing that he had begun moving.

He kept pacing around until he happened to bump into one of her pokedolls, one of many fitted into little chairs around a little table complete with little delicate cups of a tea-party. It had almost been an accidental contact, but feeling the fine threads that were all flossed out to create the fur gave him an idea: For a special delicacy like this, an appetizer would be needed. His thighs braced on a reflex, and he lowered himself down until he felt his most sensitive of flesh resting against the fabric of the toy, soon rubbing himself down between the ear and skull of something yellow- Probably a jolteon. His shaft smeared through the groove, the little threads all plastering to the sides of his cock, sliding back and forth with him as he gave little edging thrusts on down into it. His wings scooping up a second doll scrunching it up so he was jabbing into the armpit, the edges of his cloaca smothering into the back of the jolteon's skull and just saturating it in the wet pocketed mess that had built with his arousal, little rivulets of liquid running down the jolteon's neck and back!

...It wasn't proper. It wasn't enough for his desires, but it was the closest he'd ever had to them, imagining the adorable Torchic playing with these dolls in the morning, damp with the fluids leaking from his slit, and as he noticed was approaching with a rush of victory deep in his chest, his sperm. His body shuddered, starting shivering uncontrollably and he was fairly certain one of his talons punctured a hole into the second doll's side, but it didn't matter. He could feel his semen rushing out, feel the initial burst that splattered over the table, and he angled his hips so the next few blasts would rain the sticky liquid down upon the surrounding dolls. He withdrew slightly, panting open-beaked, his tongue lolling along the inside, peaking out only so he could settle back and stare down at his drooling shaft- Limper than before, but still large. "This," he thought to himself "is the hottest thing I've ever done." His cock, still throbbing with need, draped over the Jolteon's head and dangling off the side of their cheek, and he grinned to himself, angling it over one of the cups. "As a proper gentleman and guest, I should provide some tea for her party." he mumbled, letting the drooling seed that poured from the cockhead roll from the opening into the basin and slowly fill the cup, thicker and creamier than what he'd released upon all the dolls, slowly milking more from himself until it wrapped along the edge of the cup like frosting.

Once the cup was full of his 'special tea', Fiaro raised his head once more, standing and listening, though not for as long as the last time. His loins had been quick to convince him that there was still nobody else awake in the house, including the main course... A main course he had finally gathered the courage to sample. Slowly, he made his way over to the bed, looking over the adorable, tiny naked girl laying there. He took a deep breath, leaned forward, and began wiping the cum-smeared tip of his prick dry on that soft, tingly down she was sporting, observing as they got a little darker with the dampness every time he stroked. He was now one step closer, and while the girl's subconscious did try to wiggle away from whatever was touching her, she did not wake up from the slimy touch. "If I likened this to Hitball like so many do when it comes to relationships," he mused "then I'm on second base now." and with that, he began stroking the top of his rubbery tool, while grinding the belly of it against the girl he was really coming to like, heavy sleeper as she was, a fresh string of preseed connecting his tip with her plume.

Each roll of his hips and brush of his wings send both enjoyable tickles and pleasurable tingles down his shaft, which pulsed and throbbed with joy from the way he was using the sleeping chick, and he even moved his hips down to her tiny, unused cloaca, circling and teasing around the rim a few times... Yet he was still rational enough to know that if he just plunged in, something it took a will of iron not to do right here and now, she'd scream and he'd undoubtedly be busted. So he settled with just teasing that untouched flower until he felt a tiny twitch, before going back to sandwiching his meat between her body and his wing, stroking just a little faster. His tip was soon leaking a constant trickle of his lubricating fluids, and a very specific pressure was starting to build in his loins for the second time this night. He held his climax back for as long as he could, but the extreme arousal he was feeling soon overwhelmed him, and Fiaro pulled backwards to point his tip down against that naked Torchic rump, only barely managing to suppress a trill as he hit the most powerful orgasm of his life.

He was stroking hard and fast, milking out the three first shots of hot cum against her lower body, the first of which painted a white streak on her right thigh, the second splashing against the down at the front of her crotch, and the third was a very well-placed shot, squirting right against her cloaca. While there was no way he had success, Fiaro immediately began imagining that this shot would find the chick's eggs and fertilize them, the thought empowering his already intense climax greatly. But now, he was no longer shooting at her undercarriage, instead aiming a bit higher, painting white streaks on orange down and yellow wings, the fluff around where his cumshots landed darkened from the dampness and flattened slightly. And again, he aimed a bit higher, now painting her cheek, chin, forehead, and even over one of her closed eyes with his essence, before letting the final two shots land on the tuft at the top of her head.

Catching his breath after his second, intense orgasm, Fiaro spent the downtime admiring his handiwork, looking at the cheek and forehead of the little chick, the off-white streaks slowly running down her face, and dripping onto the pillow below her head. Slowly, his gaze travelled down her body, noticeably messier than before he had arrived, until his eyes finally settled to rest on her cloaca, which was twitching slightly under the splash of cum that had hit it. "A masterpiece I will remember forever~" the Talonflame thought to himself once he was done admiring the sleeping cub.

Once more, he began pacing around in her room, thinking about what the next thing he should give a try could be. His toy was quite the heavy sleeper, and nobody else in the house seemed to be awake either, giving the bird plenty of time to play all sorts of games with this cute little toy of a girl. As he paced around, his eyes fell on the tea party once again, and he smirked softly to himself, imagining the Torchic drinking his sperm straight from the toy cup he had put it in, and the thought got him painfully erect once again, his tip dripping a little bit of precum onto the floor of the bedroom. And then, a horrifying thought hit the bird; what if someone else came in here before the girl woke up, like the girl's parents or their maid? Then she wouldn't get to sample his special treat at all! And that simply wouldn't do... ...and just like that, he knew what to do.

Fiaro returned to the bed and very gently and carefully turned the girl's head to face him, getting only a sleeping mumble and a light, annoyed wave of her cumstained wing in response. Fiaro realised, with a twinge of excitement, that her beak hadn't closed fully after the mumble either, and that's when he realised how perfectly everything had gone so far. "Perhaps," the Talonflame thought to himself, "one of the gods are getting off to me molesting this kid... That'd explain why everything has gone flawlessly so far." But of course, Fiaro had better things to do than think about such things all night. And so, without further ado, he bent his tapered, rubbery shaft down, and gently wedged his tip into the Torchic's slightly open beak.

Just the thought of being inside a cub, even if it was only with his very tip and only inside the beak, was enough that Fiaro knew he'd burst quickly. And he wasn't going to drag this out any more than he needed to, already planning to impale her cloaca on his dick once he'd fed her his musky treat, so he went right back to stroking himself off with his wings, even angling himself so his strokes made him brush the front of his shaft against the little girl's side, wettening it even more with slit fluids. His cock was already pulsing and throbbing, aching for release, and leaking pre like a faucet inside of that beak... ...and the chick was reflexively swallowing, drinking down his preparing fluids every time another squirt was shot into her beak.

But all good things must come to an end... ...especially for a bird as horny as he was right now. And so, barely managing to stifle a screech of pure pleasure, he pushed just a little deeper into the girl's beak, while his cock pulsed and 'jumped', each throb squirting out a healthy helping of bird seed directly into the child's beak; and just like with his precum, she was drinking every single drop. Fiaro's load soon began tapering off, and he pulled backwards to make sure the last few squirts coated her tongue completely, before he pulled back out, milking the last few stray drops out onto the outsides of her beak.

Eager to get to the main event, to take the virginity of such a cute tight-looking girl, Fiaro slowly turned her soft body 90 degrees, giving him both a great view of, and easy access to, that cumstained cloaca. And, being the most eager he'd been all day, Fiaro began circling the flexible tip of his dick around the rim of that snug little hole, which got a bit twitchier from the touch, the Torchic's body instinctively knowing what it was supposed to be doing, even this long before it was actually supposed to be doing it.

After a minute of teasing them both, he aligned himself with the now puffy all-purpose orifice of the little girl, before he flinched! He had heard it: Footsteps, undoubtedly coming from within the house. While they weren't near the bedroom, he didn't want to risk all the trouble he could get into by getting caught fucking a cub... ...even if that cloaca very much was tempting him to try his luck, soft, squishy and warm as it had felt against his tip. Ultimately, however, the rational part of Fiaro's brain won out, and he pulled away from the little girl, and quickly leapt out of her window, flying off into the night.

It wasn't until Fiaro could no longer see the house he just had his first experience with a cub in, that he descended towards the trees, finding a good perch to settle down on to catch his breath and let his hammering heart slow down. Now he was statue-still once more, just like when he first entered the girl's bedroom, listening and waiting... Anticipating that, at any moment, Magnezone or a rescue team would come to apprehend him, so he camouflaged himself as well as he could in the pitch black of night, pressing his form up against the stem of the tree he had landed on. But even after an hour, there had not been any signs that anyone was looking for him; he had gotten away with it. And then, finally, he flew back to his own home and settled down to fall asleep in his nest, much more satisfied and happy than he had ever been before.