"Ah fuck, ah fuck, ah fuck!"

My cunt twitches on Chloé's tongue, and by her muffles, I think she's finding it hard to breathe, but I keep her head clamped to my crotch anyway. She told me she enjoys it. So do I.

Electric blue fireworks dance behind my eyes. Synaesthesia, man. Everything is colours, and clitoral orgasms are blue like a popsicle, and equally capable of making someone's tongue numb.

Fuck, how many is this one? Six? Seven? Chloé's absolutely tireless, though, and she isn't going to stop until I tell her. Nnngh, that devotion drives me wild, and I was gonna let her up, but instead I yowl, feel her flail and writhe underneath me. I ride her face some more. She looks up at me like she's waiting to be eaten.

Yoooowl, and she arches, and her face somehow presses even harder into my pussy, her tongue becoming a post to scratch with my clit, and scratch I do. "Haaah fuck, fuck yes, a--ah--" Oh god, this one's a big one, and I throw my head back, tugging on her ears as I come again. She squeaks. It sounds like pain. I pull harder.

Ohhh, fuck, that did it, and once this orgasm draws to a close, I pull back and let her go. She's panting so hard I can feel each puff of breath on my lips. I look down at her, lips swollen, covered to the cheeks in cum and saliva. I gleefully give her a face wash with my palm. She protests, scrunches up her face, and tries to get away, but she doesn't actually tell me to stop, so I don't. When I'm done, I just stretch, lean back, and recline on top of her.

"You sound satisfied," comes her slurred voice from between my legs. It makes me giggle. Too many blue popsicles.

"I /am/," I reply, in-between purrs. "You sure you want to be eaten? You clearly have talent at doing the eating."

"I am sure," she replies. She has this tone when she receives a compliment. It's quieter, softer, more self-conscious. She calls it her Fluttershy voice. She's very much using it.

I shift over onto the bed and sit up, looking down at my captive. Her arms are still securely tied behind her back, and her legs are still tied together, a ladder of rope going from her hips to her ankles. I even took a little ribbon and tied her big toes together. It made it so much easier to tickle her. The fat lips of her pussy just barely peek out from the Y of her legs, peach and looking quite well-used. Turns out there was just enough space to snug a vibrator between those thighs while she was tied up. It was almost too much fun just holding her down and watching her struggle as she came until she begged me to stop.

"Um, Cayen?" she asks in a 'hey, this isn't part of the scene' tone, and I look up at her wrinkling her nose. "...My nose itches. Can you please scratch it?"

Snrk. I lean over and start at the bridge of her nose. "Forward and to the left please. A little more left-- there." I follow her instructions and give it a good scritching, and she sighs. "Thank you."

My hand trails down to her neck, and then down her chest, dry fur giving way to damp. I circle her navel with a nail and she squirms, trying not to laugh. That one nail glides around, and around, and around... and there it goes, she laughs for me, breaking into a grin as the high squeak of her giggles ring out. I can't help but laugh as well, and erase the tickling by deeply rubbing her belly.

"So what should we do now, you think?" I ask her.

"I assumed you would untie me and we would cuddle for a while until it came time to eat or bathe," she replies. "That is not all we could do but it is what I thought we would do."

"Yeah?" I ponder this semi-suggestion. It's What Comes Next in scenes, of course, snuggling, winding down, aftercare, but... "...Mm, you're half-right. Turn over."

She does, and I undo her arms, and then realize it's not going to work -- the takate is too involved not to undo with access to both her front and back. "One sec," I say, and get up, kneeling on her calves, and slipping an arm underneath her; I lean all the way back, and I have enough leverage to haul her into a kneeling position, where I continue to undo the ropes.

"I think you did that just so you could manipulate me some more," she says. Fluttershy voice.

"Mm, didn't plan on it, but the opportunity was there." My voice is in her ear, modulated like a threat. "Though, now that you mention it, it's not a bad idea." I keep undoing the ropes, and when they're finally off, she shakes out her arms, rotates them a little.

I get up and help her to her feet, and then take a knee in front of her. the skin of her belly is stretchy; I take it in my fingers and bite down on the fold I make, and she squirms as I worry it in my teeth. She gives me that look again. I swear I can smell her getting turned on.

Perfect distraction for when I let go, put my shoulder against her belly, and haul her up into a carry like a sack of potatoes.

She yeeps and flails, and I just keep her steady with one hand, spanking her with the other. "Come on, let's go get a tea from downstairs," I tell her, moving towards the front door.

"Cayen! We are both nude and I am still tied up! I am not sure your customers would understand that!" 

She squirms more, and I laugh, turning around just before the door. "My hands are busy, be a dear, open the door for me?"

I hear a click and the bottom falls out of my stomach. "Wait, I don't mean--"

I hear the door open and I pitch backward, and Chloé slips off my shoulder. Time slows for just a second. Oh god, can't drop her, can't keep the door open, uh... okay. I grab her and slow her fall, and I end up off-balance, but I account for that and brace, landing against the door and slamming it shut behind me. Chloé ends up standing in front of me, trying to look innocent.

"They probably heard that," I tell her. My tone drips with faux disapproval. How can I be mad at her? She hoisted me on my own petard.

"Oh." She tries and fails miserably to stop herself from smiling. "Do you think they will investigate?"

"Cayen?" comes a voice from the other side of the door. My ears twist on reflex. "Is everything okay?" Sounds like Taylor, calling up from the bottom of the stairs.

"Yeah, it's fine," I call out through the door. "I had the door open and the wind blew it shut." It's funny how sneaking around under your parent's nose gives you the ability to lie through your teeth.

"Oh. Scared the crap out of me."

"Yeah, me too." Chloé has taken this opportunity to hop, a few inches at a time, towards the kitchen -- I don't know whether towards something, or away from my wrath, which is at any rate inevitable. "I'm gonna keep the door closed now, I think."

"Yeah, sounds like a plan. Alright, I'm going back to work."

"Okay, thanks."

I listen for a second. Nothing. Satisfied that I'm not about to get a knock, I relock the door and walk over to Chloé, calmly turning her around, shoving her onto my chair, and climbing up on top of her.

"You," I say with a how-dare-you grin, fighting with her to pin her wrists, "are a brat."

"Perhaps you should have kept that in mind when you told me to expose myself to your patrons," she says, still finding ways to slip my grip. God, she's incredibly hard to keep ahold of when she wants to be.

Fuck it. I give up on her wrists and grab the sides of her head, and pull her into a kiss. She stiffens and pushes at me for a bit, but I'm patient, and eventually she relents. She still tastes like me, and I make sure to lap every bit of me off her lips before I let her up.

"...I was going to get a glass of water," she says when the kiss breaks, her mouth brushing mine as she talks. "And maybe a muffin."

"Yeah?" I lean back and don't slap so much as push her face from side to side, slowly batting at her, playing with my food. She lets me, her hands resting on my thighs. "I'll get it then."

I bat her around a little more, and then get up, heading into the kitchen. "Cay?" I hear.

I lean over to look back through the door while I open the too-loud plastic packaging for the muffins. "Yeah?"

"Can I untie my legs? They are starting to pinch." 

"Oh, yeah, sure." I grab a muffin. "You want these nuked with the thing, right? The olive oil?"

"Yes please." 

"Got it." 

I put the muffin in the microwave-- "Thank you." --turn it on, and grab a glass of water and a plate while it's heating. Second muffin, decapitate the first muffin, grab the olive oil, little on the cap, little on the bottom, and to the living room I go.

By now Chloé's mostly out of the ropes, and I balance the plate on the arm of the chair, taking the undoctored muffin, and holding the water out for her for when she's done. Once the ropes are off her legs, she spreads them a little, rotates her ankles, and leans back. "Thank you," she says again, and takes the glass, taking several long pulls from it until it's drained.

Nomf nomf. I hold my hand in front of my mouth while I talk with my mouth full. "You want another one?"

"I think that might be best," she says, and holds the glass out for me. Back to the kitchen I go.

By the time I'm back, Chloé is wrapping up the ropes. "Oh no. You drink this, then eat that. I'll get the rope."

"Are you sure? The room is kind of a mess and I wanted to help clean up."

"Nah, you just relax, let me get it." I give her the glass, then peel the bottom of the muffin. "After I eat."

Chloé nods, and holds the glass between her legs while she eats. "Okay."

I walk back to the kitchen, toss out the wrapper while finishing the muffin, then stroll back in and survey the damage. Ehh, there's not that much. two ropes, the vibe, the harness, probably should change the sheets -- god, I've never squirted so hard while riding a strapon before. I look down at myself. I can feel the fur on my thighs and my belly damp with cum. I glance over at Chloé. She's in much the same state.

"...What," she asks.

"Oh, just assessing," I reply. "We need a shower."

"Yes." Chloé takes another pull of water. "I was going to wait until you had yours."

I tilt my head. "Why's that?"

She glances at the floor and instantly I just want to put my arms around her and /squeeze/. "Because then I could have one at the same time." Fluttershy voice. God, I love her.

"Insatiable," I tease, and she squirms in my seat.

"It is not that!" I pluck the rope from at her feet, sit on the edge of the futon, and coil it. "It is just easier to wash my back when I do not have to stretch for it."

"Uh-huh." I'm looking down at the rope, but Chloé's in my periphery, and that's where my vision's focused. "And the fact that I can pin you to a wall while i'm washing your back? With my chest?"

She lets out a squeak. It's an adorable little wordless plea for mercy. I don't know how her voice gets that high. "That is an auxiliary benefit," she mumbles, and I can't help but giggle.

Rope coiled, but it's as cum-soaked as we are, so it goes in a heap by the hamper. /Technically/ it's machine washable? And that'd be easier? But I have a basin for hand-washing it, and then I string it up across the apartment like christmas lights to dry. Clothes go in the hamper, her white polo and khakis from Molecular Pantry, my black work stuff. I pick up a pair of panties. Pink with lavender trim and a lavender cat icon on the butt. "These are cute," I say. "Where'd you get them?"

"I found them at the mall. They seemed symbolic. So I bought them."

"Yeah? You feel like sitting on me?"

She shakes her head. "When we are in bed you hug my hips."

...Aww, you adorable little romantic thing. I'm drawn to her like she's got me on a leash, and I just lean in and rest my hands on her hips and kiss her, once, twice, lingering. The room goes quiet and she puts her hands on mine.

When the kiss breaks I pull back. "I think you enjoyed the symbolism more than I did," she says into her chest.

I grin. "Uh-huh. ...Hey, look at me." I tilt her head up with a finger under her chin and just... make eye contact for a moment. She struggles to maintain it. It's hard for her. But she enjoys the discomfort. "I love you."

She smiles. "I love you too." She visibly steels herself, then darts in for one more peck on the lips, and I pull back and ruffle her hair. She protests. Not sincerely.

I go back to the futon, toss the pillows to the floor, blanket too, and strip the bed. "So, d'you feel better?" I know the answer, but I figure it's best to ask the question anyway. She looked pretty down when she got here.

"Mmhmm." There's a pause. It's about to have a litter. Both ears swivel to face her and I stop to listen. "...I got yelled at at work. It-- it was a customer. They needed some iota carageenan for a big dinner they were having and we were the only store he could find that carried it and we have been on back order for about a week. He waited until the day he needed it to buy it. He blamed me for ruining his dinner."

Anger blooms in my belly. "What a fucking asshole," I reply. "Like, what, you're responsible for /his/ disorganization? God, customers like that..."

While I figure out what suitable string of profanity to refer to those kind of people, Chloé cuts across me. "He was just trying to do something for his friends," she says. "I know he should not have yelled at me but I understand his reaction even if I do not condone it."

Oh crap. She sounds hurt. "...Chloé?"

"...I do not think it is productive to insult him," she says quietly, like she's afraid of retribution. "Especially when the only person who can hear it is me."

Ow. Okay. I fucked up. "...Sorry." I duck my head. "Sometimes I forget you don't really vent like that."

"It is okay." She gets up and sets the water glass on the coffee table on her way to hug me. I hold her close. "I understand that you are just trying to make me feel better. And maybe make yourself feel better about someone you love being hurt."

I take a deep breath, let it out in a heavy sigh. "...Yeah." Sometimes it startles me how much she can read me.

"Besides," she says into my neck. "If you are looking to bite someone to make it better you already did. And it did."

"Aww." I give her a little squeeze. "Good."

"I think I am ready to have that shower now if you are ready for it."

I glance over my shoulder at the bed. "Yeah, I can always put the sheets on later."

She tugs at me. I don't let go. "...Cay. I cannot walk to the bathroom until you have let go of me."

"I know." I sigh again. "Just... lemme hold you a bit first."

"Okay."

And I do. And we have a little moment, just... us.