Monster-Lovin' Fella

Let me know if any of my material breaks/is reposted from sources that break these rules. I will delete/block/report accordingly. Also tell me if I've missed tagging/mentioning any big triggers

Requests/fantasies/kinks involving the following will be deleted and users will be blocked

Misgendering/detrans

Racism/raceplay

Non-con (cnc is mostly fine, but I probably won't use much of it)

Underage

Bestiality (all monsters must pass the Harkness test if alive)

Piss, scat, vom (anything involving waste)

Non-consensual pain and violence

Abuse

Body shaming

Incest

The following behaviours will result in users being blocked and/or reported

Racism

Pedophilia

Antisemitism

Ableism

Homophobia, biphobia, aphobia, transphobia (any anti-queer sentiment)

Bestiality

Glorifying abuse

Body shaming/fatphobia

The following users will be blocked and/or reported immediately

Minors

TERFs and SWERFs

Misogynists

There was something peaceful about a familiar TV show. You used to enjoy letting one fade into the background as you napped or worked, but it had recently turned into Prime Cuddle Time for you and Asco. The ambient light and noise calmed both of you, and gave you something to pay enough attention to that you didn’t get bored or fidgety. It worked out perfectly, and you enjoyed the time it gave you to just luxuriate in each other. More often than not, Asco took the opportunity to stretch his entire body out across yours, covering both you and the couch like a heavy blanket. He wasn’t that much bigger than you, not really, but the slender antennae that rose from his brow added nearly a foot to his height, and the massive span of his wings dwarfed you even further. At his fullest and most stretched out, the way he was now, almost none of your body was exposed to the air save your hands as they lovingly ran up and down his back. 

Asco let out a low, contented rumble that made your whole body shake when your wandering fingers carefully combed through the fluffy pseudo-fur that covered most of his body. The long fibrous scales may have been soft and supple, almost like hair, but they were still just as delicate as the shimmering flats of his wings. Even though Asco protested at how gentle you always were, insisting that he wasn’t that easily breakable, you’d just laugh and kiss whatever part of him was closest to you. You’d murmur something about him being too precious to risk and he would grumble something about you being overdramatic, antennae twitching with embarrassment the whole time. 

The sounds of pleasure rolling from Asco quieted to a soft buzz as you kept your hands moving over him, palms flat as you smoothed them along the length of his back, pausing over his ribcage to let the sound vibrate through them. He groaned under his breath when you started up again. You relished in the feeling of his body under your hands, the dip of his spine and soft chub at his waist, hands wandering all the way down to his hips. His breath quickened as you let your fingers just barely skate over the top of his butt. 

“Keep doing that,” he said, turning his face so that it was pressed flush with the side of your neck.

You grinned. “Keep doing what? This?” You slid your hands down again to rest teasingly on his ass. 

He answered by snuggling closer to you, if that was even possible, wiggling his hips up into your touch. The motion moved you both just enough that the ruff of scales around his neck covered your face. The mass of black fluff filled your mouth and nose when you inhaled and sent you spluttering, spitting and swiping the fibres away. 

“Are you okay?” Asco propped himself up to check that you were okay, eyes red and luminous in the low light of the room.

“I’m fine.” You tilted your head up to kiss him on the chin before pulling back and plastering a comically hurt expression all over your face. “Except for the fact that my beloved boyfriend just tried to smother me alive.”

The ghost of a grin pulled his lips back enough to show the edge of his teeth before he matched your look with an equally absurd look of betrayal. “No, my master plan! How could you have found out? Now I have no choice but to finish the job!”

You had no time to process his threat before he attacked you with a barrage of tickly kisses on every inch of skin that he could reach. The feeling of his lips against your face and neck made you shriek with laughter and squirm helplessly beneath him. You swatted at his butt in a feigned attempt to fight him off, earning a nip to the underside of jaw in return. 

When your ribs started to hurt from laughing so hard, you went limp beneath him. “Truce!” You gasped out. “You win, sweetheart, you win.”

“Aha, I have bested this fearsome beast!” Asco crowed, smiling so widely that you could see all of his teeth. His antennae waved above his head, and in the excitement his huge wings were fluttering ever so slightly above the two of you in a show of glee and pride. The dark brown scales shimmered ever so slightly, the lace-like band of white across their middle catching the light of the TV with each movement. 

You giggled at the preening display, throwing your arm across your face in mock surrender. “I, the most dangerous and terrifying creature known to man, have never been defeated before. What a big, strong being you must be to have laid me out so easily! Why, I daresay that you deserve some sort of reward for your bravery and strength.” 

Raising your arm enough to peek out from behind, you fluttered your eyelashes and puckered your lips in a very not-subtle hint. The brilliant grin splitting Asco’s face dropped to something warmer, softer. Less filled with glee but overflowing with so much undisguised affection that you nearly had to turn away. He cupped your face in one of his clawed hands and lowered himself down slowly until his lips met yours in a sweet kiss. You had to fight the desire to immediately open your mouth to him, knowing that he would want to keep this moment soft and quiet for as long as possible. His fingers, longer than a human’s and tipped with needle-like claws, cradled the back of your skull with a kind of gentleness that was almost terrifying in its intensity. Even as his lips moved with yours, slowly stoking the heat between you, he held you like you were unspeakably precious, like you were delicate and easily breakable, like harming you would be unforgivable. 

Overwhelmed with emotion, you almost missed the first time that his thin tongue flickered out to brush against the seam of your lips. But you didn’t miss the second, and you certainly didn’t miss the opportunity to open your mouth and lick the edge of his lips in kind. He pulled you closer to him, deepening the kiss even further, taking your bottom lip between his sharp teeth and tugging gently before returning to twine his tongue around mouth. The feeling of the thin tendril tugging on your tongue made the edges of your mind go fuzzy and you couldn’t hold back the pitchy whine that slipped from your throat. This move was not new, and you knew that Asco knew that it drove you wild, proved by the slight curl of his lips when he felt your cock harden between you. His hold on you shifted to cradle the back of your neck, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss even further, that devilish tongue twisting even more to caress the roof of your mouth. Never one to be outdone, you ran your hands from where they had been resting placidly at his waist to the lush swell of his ass. 

An almost imperceptible shiver rippled through Asco at the gentle pressure you put on his buttcheeks, his muscles tensing up and making his scales and wings shudder. His hips pressed into yours, a movement that you wholeheartedly encouraged by tightening your hold on him. His skin was hot beneath your hands as you massaged his ass with a firm grip. Each squeeze pulled his hips against yours, his arousal obvious with how his hand on your neck twitched and the way he grew hotter and hotter against you. You kept grinding him down onto you, fingers dipping down to skirt over his hole, relishing in the sparks shooting up your spine and the fact that you could feel the spear-like head of Asco’s cock slipping out of his sheath. 

After a particularly devious squeeze, pressing your fingers into the meat of his ass to spread him open and let the cool air of the room hit his hole, Asco broke away from the kiss with a wet smack. He was panting hard, chest stuttering with every breath, eyes glowing with ruby fire. “Can I suck your dick?”

“Yes, please.”

The massive hand on the nape of your neck moved to hold your hips and pull you tight against him. He cradled you to his chest as he stood up, putting you down for barely long enough to pull your pants and underwear down, before picking your back up and flopping down onto the couch, sprawled so that he was laying on his back with you straddling his waist, his wings fanned out over the back of the couch and down onto the floor. Their huge coffee-coloured expanse, split down the middle with a delicate band of pearly white, never ceased to make you stop in your tracks and admire them. You couldn’t help yourself from reaching up and delicately tracing the upper curve of one of them from where it arched up over his shoulder. It was only a few seconds before an insistent tap on your spine broke your focus.

“I know my tongue is long, but even I can’t suck your dick from this far away.” His antennae flicked with amusement. 

You leaned down to steal one for last quick kiss before crawling up his body and settling yourself over the very top of his chest. Your cock was mostly hard where it bobbed in between you, and it stiffened just a little more when Asco brought his hands up to hold your hips and guide you closer to his face so that your shaft lay against the side of his jaw. His fingers were long enough that they dipped into your crack with his thumbs curled lovingly around towards your stomach, just another thing about him that drove you wild. 

His scarlet eyes fluttered shut as he moved his head to take you into his mouth. He moaned loudly around you, the vibrations buzzing through your sensitive flesh through the velvety roof of his mouth. Your breath caught slightly in your throat. He hollowed his cheeks around you and began sucking, sliding his mouth along the length of your cock with near-painful care and slowness. You could feel pleasure building in the pit of your stomach, the feeling glacial with how slowly he was moving. His eyes couldn’t stay closed or open for very long, his lids fluttering erratically as he worked you over. 

Even through the dark fuzz covering his face and body, you saw his skin darkening with flush when you bucked your hips into his mouth involuntarily at the feeling of his slender tongue wrapping around the base of your head. 

“You’re–ah– so good at this, love.”

The little praise made Asco’s body twitch beneath you, and he moaned again, the sound muffled by your dick. 

You smiled down at him and stroked the side of his face, rubbing the fluff on his cheekbones between your fingers. “My wonderful, sweet darling.”

Asco’s eyes flashed as he tugged your hips to sink your cock all the way into the heat of his mouth. A strangled gasp tore from your mouth as he wrapped his tongue around your shaft, the sudden flash of pleasure making you jolt forward and grip the arm of the couch behind his head. The grip on your ass tightened, edged with the claws that Asco was always so careful with. The coils of his tongue began curling over and around your dick, steadily bringing the low simmer in your blood to a rolling boil as he milked you closer to orgasm. Moans poured out of you with every other breath, and your hips were stuttering up and into Asco’s mouth constantly. Spit bubbled up at the edges of his lips as he gurgled around you, his throat rippling around your head. Pleasure, white-hot in intensity, burned through you. 

“Oh shit! Sweetheart, I’m gonna cum.”

Asco kept sucking as hard as he could until the first wave of your climax started, pulling off of you and closing his eyes so that you could finish on his face. You shuddered as the orgasm washed through you, cum sticking in the scales of his face and hanging from the fluff of his antennae. His tongue whipped out of his mouth to lick some of the thick seed into his mouth, and he smiled radiantly up at you. 

You could barely hold yourself up long enough to scoot down and flop down onto his chest. The warm crook of his neck, lush with thick fluff, seemed like a perfect place to be right then, so you nuzzled up under his chin and kissed the underside of his jaw sweetly. You could feel his own cock was still hard and leaking against your leg. 

“Do you want me to handle that, sweetheart?” you crooned to him, fingers tracing small circles into his hip. 

A warm rumble of contentment rolled through his chest. “You don’t have to. You just came, you can relax.”

“Baby, you just gave me one of the best blowjobs I’ve ever had – which I can’t even be surprised about anymore considering how fucking good you are at them – and I’d like to return the favour. May I?”

Large, warm arms wrapped around you and cradled you close to his body again. “Not this time. I just wanted to make you feel good today.”

You snuggled closer to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Well you certainly succeeded in that.” 

Asco chuckled, tilting his face to kiss the top of your head. You stayed there for as long as you could stand, soaking in each other’s warmth for several long moments until the feeling of sweat cooling on your skin made you pull back. “Okay, as nice as this is, we gotta go wash up.”

“Nooooo,” he groaned, pulling you back down onto him. “I just want to keep cuddling.”

You giggled at his protests, pulling back again and rolling off of him to stand up. “I know, my love, so do I. But we both know that if you don’t have a shower now you’re going to be bitching about being dirty for the rest of the night.”

Living with people could be hard. Sharing space, always being under someone’s foot, someone else always being under yours, dealing with other people’s weird eating habits, it could get to be a lot. So you couldn’t begin to believe your luck when your new roommate, Zan, presented exactly none of the usual issues. They never ate your food, always kept the kitchen and bathroom perfectly clean, and were so quiet that most of the time you could barely tell that there was anyone else in the house. They were the textbook definition of “perfect roommate”, but...

Look, you appreciated them, you really did. But you couldn’t help but wish your relationship was a little bit more personal. All you really knew about them was what they looked like (a vaguely humanoid torso on a slithery mass of tentacles, all a lovely shade of translucent violet), and what they ate from the kitchen (anything salty or spicy, but mostly instant noodles). You hadn’t seen them move in, never saw more than the briefest glimpse of them moving around the house. You knew nothing about them. And you wanted to! Even with shitty past roommates, you had to admit that it was nice to get to know some of them, and you wanted to at least try to be friends with your mysterious slimy roomie.

And so a plan was hatched. Armed with a bowl of egg curry and a blinding determination to get to know them no matter what, you steeled yourself for the text that you had to send.

To: Zan

Supper’s ready. egg curry

let’s eat together tn?

Several terrifying, heart-pounding moments passed before you got your response: a thumbs up emoji.

Yes!

You got in a few seconds of silent celebration before the sound of a door creaking open made you snap back to a pose that looked at least a little neutral. There were a few seconds of wet noises down the hallway before Zan turned the corner.

Your breath stopped.

It became glaringly obvious the second you saw them that you had never spent enough time together for you to really get a good idea of what they looked like. Your general sense was right, they were a half-humanoid tentacled creature made of translucent purple slime, but that didn’t even begin to cover it. The bottom half of their body was a tangle of slickly curling tentacles, the individual tendrils fusing and splitting absently as they moved. Their torso was a soft intimation of humanity, flawless and smooth in its lack of muscle and bone beneath skin, their arms amorphous forms that shifted between tentacle and true limb with each second that passed. Their head was a sci-fi character designer’s wet dream, sleek, undefined, beautiful in its alienness. What you had originally thought was just violet was deep, multi-layered, fading from lilac to eggplant and every shade in between. You couldn’t help but think that they might well be the most beautiful being you’d ever seen.

“Hi.”

You were sent reeling as the word echoed through your skull without it ever having been spoken out loud. You managed to get your feet back under you after a few seconds and filed that little fact about telepathy away to deal with later.

“Hey. I, um…you can sit down and get some food if you want.”

Zan was still for several long moments before slowly nodding and moving to sit in the chair across from you. A pretty pinkish colour flashed through them when the curry’s fragrant steam hit them and they placed the end of one of their arms onto the plate, absorbing half a boiled egg covered in rich, spicy curry into their body. You watched in fascination as it began to dissolve, preening internally at the pleased hum that vibrated between your ears. Taking the first bite from your own plate, you couldn’t help but agree.

“Have I done something wrong?” Their voice said after a few minutes of silent eating.

You cocked your head in confusion. “No? Why would you think you had?”

“You’ve never wanted to talk to me before, and then all of a sudden you call a...house dinner?”

“Oh, shit. You haven’t done anything wrong. Sorry, I probably should have said that before.” You mentally slapped yourself in the face at the thought of how that must have felt for them. “I just thought that it might be nice to, I don’t know, talk? We’ve been living together for a few months now and I don’t think we’ve ever actually spoken and I want to get to know you, if you want. It’s okay if you don’t.”

Somewhere in the middle of your rambling Zan had taken their arm off their plate and they were staring-- well, as close as they could get to “staring” with no face-- directly at you.

Something about it seemed like they still didn’t believe you. “You’re the best roommate I’ve ever had,” you blurted out, trying to make them feel better.

A dark reddish-purple started in the centre of their chest and unfurled through their whole body. “Really?”

“Yeah. By like, a lot. Why are you so surprised by that?”

“I freak a lot of people out, I guess?” They said quietly, the words wavering in your mind. “Are...are you sure?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I’d like to be friends with you. We don’t have to spend a ton of time together, but dinner sometimes, maybe a movie night every so often? Does that sound good?”

“Yes it does,” they hummed, putting their arm back on their plate to absorb more curry. “This is really good, by the way.”

It was impossible for you to hold back your grin as you thanked them, and dug back in.

◃◈▹

A couple of months later, you could confidently say that sending that text was one of the best decisions you had ever made in your life. You and Zan got along like a house on fire, even though you still didn’t spend a ton of time together. Dinners eaten together at the tiny dining table were a regular occurrence, and you enjoyed them, but you definitely enjoyed the much rarer movie nights a lot more. They had started off in the small living room, sitting comfortably separate on the rock-hard couch cushions, but had quickly moved to your bedrooms, because the beds were more comfortable. In the beginning you sat an arm’s length apart, backs against the wall as the movie played on your laptop set up on a chair opposite the two of you. As the days passed, you moved closer together, soaking up each other’s warmth in the light of the screen. You brushed elbows and knees with silky-slick tentacles more often than not, and had definitely ended up falling asleep leaning against each other more than once.

The whole thing was very bad for your heart. It was stoking the low burn of affection behind your ribs hotter and hotter until it was dangerously close to turning into a full-blown blaze. You felt like Icarus flying too close to the sun, but it felt too good to relish in your growing friendship to stop the affection, no matter how wise it would have been to slow down a bit.

So halfway through the movie you sat curled up next to Zan, your legs slung over their tentacles as little tendrils split off from their body to idly curl over and against your bare legs. The slime was warm and slightly damp to the touch, almost like freshly-showered skin, and you had to suppress a shiver every time they dragged over you. Even with your best efforts, you still jumped when a particularly adventurous one trailed over the sensitive skin behind your knee.

All of their movements stilled. “Are you okay?” Their voice rippled in your head, a feeling that you thought might never lose its novelty no matter how many times you felt it.

“Yeah,” you said, squirming a little. “Just ticklish.”

“Okay.”

The two of you lapsed back into an almost-comfortable silence, but there was something buzzing, electric, running beneath the surface. You focused single-mindedly on the screen in front of you, determined not to let Zan see how their casual touch had been driving you wild.

The voice in your head made something like a bracing little huff. “Can...can I keep touching you?”

“Yes?” The word was more of a question than permission. “Why couldn’t you?”

“You jumped when I touched your knee earlier, and you’ve been all stiff since, so I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to.”

The way they said it was matter-of-fact, but there was an unmistakable waver to their voice that you couldn’t quite place, but made your heart squeeze anyways.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, I just wasn’t expecting it,” you reassured them, reaching out your hand to rest on their arm.

“Good,” they hummed.

The slime of their arm rippled beneath your fingers, the smooth surface distorting so that it could wrap ever-so-slightly around your fingertips, tickling the skin around your nails affectionately. You giggled a little at the sensation and dug your hand deeper into their body in retaliation. Their laugh ricocheted around your head, breathy and bubbling, and they quickly returned to stroking your legs with their tentacles. Tendrils curled around the bones of your ankles, the curves of your calves, the dips of your knees. Each drag sent little thrills shivering up your spine, and you had to reposition yourself to try to hide the fact that all of the physical contact was sending blood rushing to your cock, mentally cursing yourself for wearing shorts that were too short and thin to do anything to disguise an erection if they looked too hard.

The feeling of a warm, damp tentacle brushing along the very bottom of your inner thigh sent you startling again. When you turned to look at Zan, their head was turned to you, and even though they had no eyes you felt something like a gaze boring deep into your skin.

Their hum was quiet and shy as it filled your head. “Is this okay? Can I go higher?”

The strange undertone of their voice made you shiver as you slowly nodded your assent. Some part of you desperately wanted it to be desire, for Zan to want you the way you wanted them (a discovery that was somewhat new and not at all startling), but you didn’t want to let yourself get too lost in the idea. The tentative slide of their tentacle up your leg made you shiver and squirm, hoping beyond hope that the room was dark enough that they couldn’t see your now half-hard cock in your shorts. You breathed deeply with the effort of not reacting, eyelids fluttered closed in the face of such lovely torture, before they shot open when the very tip of the tendril traced the skin just under the hem of your shorts.

“Woah, hey!” You pulled back from the touch.

Every bit of slime against your skin recoiled sharply the second the words left your mouth.

“I’m sorry! What did I do? Are you okay?” The barrage of their words clashed with your own racing thoughts, scrambling your mind and making your head pound slightly.

“No, I’m fine,” you said, the words tumbling out as you tried to make sense of what you were feeling. You could feel blood rush to your face, heat flooding your cheeks and ears and the back of your neck. “It’s just that…”

This had all gotten to be too much, this thing that had been building since that first dinner, that had been charging uphill for the last hour and a half. You couldn’t take it anymore. Whipping around to face Zan, you pinned them with your gaze. The tone of their slime changed, but it was too dark for you to tell how. “I don’t think you get just how much you affect me! You’re so sweet, and- and gentle, and don’t get me wrong, I like all the touching, but I can’t just keep pretending that this is all normal and meaningless! I’m- I’m sorry.”

It was impossible for you to keep your voice steady, or to stop the tears from pooling in your eyes. You went to stand up and leave the room when Zan’s confused voice filled the space between your ears.

“This isn’t meaningless, though?”

You went deathly still. “What do you mean, ‘not meaningless’?”

They tilted their head at you in confusion. “I mean it’s not meaningless? I like you, like, a lot. Not platonically. I thought you knew that.”

“You what? The fuck do you mean? Why would I have known?”

“I like you romantically? I wasn’t being subtle about it, I don’t think.”

Your brain ground to a stop. “You like me?”

“Yes?” They said, voice tilting up at the end of the word. “I thought you knew, that’s why I’ve been so affectionate with you all this time, I’m so sorry. I never would have done anything like that if I’d known you didn’t feel the same…”

You cut off their babbling apologies decisively. “You’re a fucking idiot if you think that I don’t feel the same. I’m a fucking idiot, I cannot believe that I never picked up on that.” With agonizing slowness, you moved closer to Zan so you could cup their head in your hands. “Can I kiss you?”

The only answer you got was them leaning into your touch and pressing their face to yours. The slime under your hands shifted to cradle them, the smooth surface of their face softening to cup the contours of your lips.

Kissing Zan was nothing like anything you had ever felt before. The silky-smooth texture of their slime was nothing new or unfamiliar, but up until now you’d only felt its gentle drag on your arms and shins, the back of your neck on a good day. But the way they yielded and pressed against your mouth, a fluid motion that was nothing like lips but very much like magic, was a feeling you thought you could very easily get addicted to.

Desperate to get closer to them, you slung your legs back up so that they lay across their lower body. The grip they had on your hands got firmer by the second, as your kisses got harder and messier, spit slipping from your mouth to slick the slime between you.

You pulled back enough to mumble a slurred “please touch me” into them, a task that Zan gleefully returned to. Slender tendrils circled your ankles and wrists, stroking the delicate skin at the inside of your joints as they pulled you closer to them. A thick tentacle found its way back to the inside of your thigh and this time you didn’t startle away from it. The violet slime was warm and heavy where it wound around your leg and slipped up under the edge of your shorts to trace teasing circles into the creases of your hips. You moaned into the slime of their face, and the part of your lips gave them the perfect opportunity to slide another one into your mouth.

The slick appendage twisted around your tongue, filling your willing mouth with a pleasant taste, mild and unspecific, that slipped down your throat with a substance that you thought was too thick to just be saliva. It also became very obvious that the glide against your groin was much smoother than it had been. Your cock twitched eagerly as you realized that the tentacles were wet, leaking a viscous and slippery fluid into your mouth and onto your thigh. Completely against your will, you let out a throaty groan that was muffled by the tentacle in your mouth. A sweet, warbling sound echoed through your head, and you realized with a jolt that Zan was vocalizing their pleasure in a beautiful, intoxicating, inhuman way.

The feeling of a slick tendril wrapping your cock in its wet heat made your mouth drop open in a silent cry. It had been too long since someone had touched you like this, and even then the feeling was so impossibly unlike anything you’d ever felt before that it felt like your brain was melting. Zan took advantage of your gaping mouth and open throat to corkscrew their tentacle even deeper into you, stretching your jaw almost painfully around them.

“Can you breathe okay?” They asked, voice coloured with concern. “Do you think you could handle me fucking your throat?”

You did your best to answer them without pulling away, the words turning into a wet burble as they got swallowed by spit and slime leaving your mouth, and sank down onto the tentacle as far as you could go without gagging. Swallowing, you could feel your throat ripple around Zan and you looked at them with teary eyes.

“Fuck,” they moaned.

The grip of slime around your dick spasmed and began rippling in turn, the feeling something halfway between a blowjob and getting jerked off that made your eyes roll back in your head in pleasure. Slowly, the tentacle that filled your mouth started thrusting back and forth into the hot vice of your throat. You squirmed, trying to get the leverage to buck your hips up into the tentacle enveloping your shaft, but their grip on your legs held you fast against them, sinking ever-so-slightly into the translucent slime of their body.

“Mmf!”

Zan’s thrusts abruptly picked up speed, viciously sliding in and out of your throat hard enough to make you choke slightly. Relaxing as much as you could, you lost yourself in the pleasure of them filling up your mouth and surrounding your cock. Little moans and cries were coming endlessly from you, turning into filthy gurgling sounds that were echoed by Zan’s voice in your head and forced the combination of saliva and slime past your lips until it was dripping down your chin. The tentacles holding your hands and restraining your legs began spasming aggressively as pleasure built tensely in your gut.

The tentacle that wrapped around your cock began working even harder too, sliding back and forth along your shaft as it pulsed and rippled to make you feel as good as possible. Your wet moans heightened to a near yell as a small tendril split off and moved downwards to cup your balls. It felt like being held and sucked at the same time, the pressure and suction on the sensitive organs unbelievably good. You felt your climax building and you mumbled out what was supposed to be a warning but inevitably got swallowed by the slime still filling your mouth. Zan clearly got the message though, as they started moving over you in complete unison, the tentacles on your groin sucking in perfect time with the one fucking brutally into your throat. The pace they set was punishing, and you were nearly delirious with pleasure when you orgasmed with a violent shudder, cum shooting out into their body. Aftershocks stuttered through your muscles as the tentacles filling you and holding your body slowly unwound, leaving you panting and covered in slime and spit.

You watched with half-lidded interest as the streaks of white cum suspended in their slime began to dissolve as they consumed it, a sight that you found undeniably hot, if a little odd. With great effort, you sat up to kiss Zan’s head, cringing slightly at the feeling of your soaked shorts between your thighs.

Zan chuckled affectionately at your discomfort and cradled you closer to them in order to start stripping off your dirty clothes. “Go get in the shower. I’ll throw these in the laundry.”

There were certainly worse ways to be woken up than by the smell of freshly cooked breakfast. It was by no means a rare occurrence in your house, but it was nevertheless always appreciated. On this particular morning, the sweet smell of blueberries wafting into your room dragged you from your sleep and to the kitchen. A plate of pancakes sat on the small dining table, along with a pot of coffee and a bowl of cut fruit. The door to the fridge was open, doing a poor job of hiding a furry rump that could only belong to your boyfriend. He was rummaging around, humming to himself and shaking his hips to the tune. It was very cute.

As quietly as you could, you snuck through the kitchen until you stood right behind him, pausing for a second before wrapping your arms around his waist. He jumped a little bit at the contact, hooves scrabbling on the floor as he rushed to turn around in your hold.

“Good morning, Alexis,” you mumbled, still groggy, cuddling him closer to you.

His furry ears twitched, and he gently smacked your chest in feigned frustration. “Don’t sneak up on me like that, you scared me half to fucking death! I didn’t even know you were awake yet.”

“Mmmm, sorry.” You tucked your face into the warm fuzz of the side of his neck. “It just smelled so good, and then you looked too cute not to touch…”

The skin that you were nosing against heated up even more, and it took all of your self-control not to smirk at the fact that he was getting flustered, even after all this time. It was true, though. Alexis ran warm, especially when working around the stove, and to remedy this he had a habit of cooking naked, save a very pretty vintage apron patterned with delicately rendered wildflowers that somehow stayed miraculously spotless no matter how many times it was worn. The emerald fabric of its tie was knotted into a bow at his back, digging ever-so-slightly into the soft flesh of his waist. The colour was gorgeous against the chocolate brown fur of his hindquarters.

“It’s not fair,” you groaned quietly, nuzzling further into the side of his neck.

Alexis finished getting the maple syrup out of the fridge and waddled to the table the best he could with you still clinging to him. “What isn’t?”

“Just you,” you grumbled into his skin, ”It’s too fucking early for you to look this good and be productive enough to cook.”

He laughed sweetly at your complaints and put the bottle of syrup onto the table before gently unwrapping your arms from around him. You sat down in your chair, just noticing the plate on the table opposite to you. It was dirty, covered in scraps of pancake and smears of jam (Because Alexis ate his pancakes with jam instead of syrup so that they didn’t “get wet”? You never quite understood his logic on that one).

“Did you already eat?”

“Yup.” He hopped up to sit on the edge of the table, furry hind legs kicking idly from beneath the green hem of his apron. “I wanted to wait so I could eat with you, but someone slept late today.”

You pulled the most cartoonishly shocked face you could. “‘Slept late’?! It’s only, like, nine in the morning, you little menace!”

“It’s more like a quarter to ten now, actually.” Pushing the uneaten plate and the bowl of fruit towards you, Alexis tugged gently on your ear, his dark eyes full of affection. “Now eat up before it gets cold.”

The small stack of pancakes was dotted with blueberries and there was a pat of butter slowly melting over the top. Chunks of peach and mango lay mixed with berries in the bowl, juice smearing the inside. Your mouth watered at the sight.

Small fingers darted across your vision to snag a strawberry and pop it into Alexis’ mouth, too quick for you to stop him. You made an indignant noise and batted fruitlessly at him. “I thought you already ate!”

He shot you a cheeky grin. “You know I can’t resist something tasty when it's in front of me.” And the tip of his pink tongue flicked over his finger before he stuck it into his mouth.

The sight of Alexis sucking the juice from his fingers coupled with his suggestive words had you hardening in your loose pyjama shorts. A quick survey of the table, the fruit and the pancakes and the syrup that sat before you, gave you an idea. You gently wrapped your hand around one of his ankles, stopping his leg’s rhythmic kicking in its tracks.

“I can’t either.” You stared up at him through your eyelashes, rubbing your thumb over the place where the coarse fur of his leg met the hard material of his hoof.

He giggled at you, eying the growing bulge in your pants. “I can see that.” Letting his legs fall open teasingly, you could see his own arousal beginning to tent the front of his apron. “Now, are you going to do something about it? You still haven’t touched your food.”

“Come here,” you said with a gentle tug on Alexis’ leg.

Moving like water, he slid off the table and directly into your lap, perched so that he put barely any weight on your thighs beneath him. A slight wiggle to get himself comfortable made his weight drag against your groin, pulling a quiet groan from your mouth. He cupped your face in his hands and leaned down to kiss your brow.

“You have a scheme going on in that beautiful head of yours, don’t you?”

You hummed and nodded, ghosting your hands up his back to linger at the nape of his neck. A simple bow kept the top of the apron up, and you let your hands catch teasingly on its loops. “This will have come off, it’s too pretty to get dirty.”

“Do it then.” Alexis leaned forward to kiss you again, his lips against your cheek in the exact right place for his nose to brush your ear. “But I certainly hope you plan on getting me dirty, no matter how pretty I am.”

A quick tug on the loose ends of the bow had it coming undone easily in your hands. The bib of his apron went slack but stayed up, the sides gapping just enough for you to see the soft curve of his chest underneath. Downy fluff, the same that made up the undercoat of his legs, trailed from the curls of his hair onto his spine, and you followed the now-uninterrupted line with loving fingertips until you reached the tie at his waist. Delicious tremors went through him with every inch that passed under your hands, making him lean into your chest, his arms slung around your neck. He was heavy against you, solid and sure despite his shuddering breaths as you slowly untied the bow at his back, and you decided-- not for the first time-- that heaven was a lapful of warm, gorgeous satyr. Your hands ventured lower, threading into the thick double-layered fur of his hindquarters until you could scratch at the base of the short tail that extended from the cleft of his ass. Alexis whined and his tail flicked frantically as he rocked his hips into yours.

“You’re so sensitive,” you crooned into his ear as you slowly pulled the fabric of the apron from between your bodies, letting it fall to the floor in a crumpled pile.

A moan, muffled by your shoulder, was all you got in response as his cock, now fully hard, sprung up to bob enticingly between your stomachs. It was huge, way bigger than any human penis you’d even seen, the flushed head reaching almost all the way to the top of your sternum. You couldn’t help but swipe your thumb over the pre-cum beading at the tip when you reached behind him to gather the food to the very edge of the table.

The syrup first, you decided. The bottle was still cold from the fridge, slippery from condensation on the outside, and it took a fair bit of concentration to get the top open. Your job was not made any easier by the circles his hips were grinding into yours, or the path of his hot, wet mouth over your throat, or the damp spot your leaking cock was leaving on the front of your shorts.

He flinched and moaned at the first freezing drip of syrup that fell over his shoulder. Goosebumps rose in its wake as it crawled ever-so-slowly over his chest. You waited until it reached a peaked brown nipple before lowering your head to lick it up, relishing just as much in the feeling of soft hair and warm skin under your tongue as you did the sweet taste of maple.

“This isn’t qu-quite what I meant when I told you to ‘eat up’.”

“No?” You pulled away from him to pop a piece of mango into your mouth. “Do you want me to stop?”

His legs clenched around you, hooves clicking dully against the legs of the chair. “Don’t even fucking think about it.”

Smirking up at him, you poured more syrup onto his chest, a thick stream right under Alexis’ collar that trickled sluggishly down his entire torso as you tore the pancakes into chunks behind him. You took one of the pieces and swiped it through the sticky mess on his chest, putting it into your mouth and chewing. As Alexis continued rutting against you, his length dragging against your body and sweet little gasps coming from his mouth, it became very clear that such mundane things as “eating breakfast” could wait until after you had both cum.

You took a moment to pour even more syrup over him, the thick amber liquid wetting down the hair on his chest, catching on his nipples, running into the dip of his breastbone and under his chest and his navel. His ears fluttered happily and he gasped at the feeling, grinding down harder onto your lap. You loved the look on his face: eyes fluttering shut, blunt teeth sunk deep into his lower lip, mouth slack and wet. Sparing yourself only a moment to enjoy it, you kissed the underside of his jaw once before diving back into his chest. Fingers firm and sticky on his hips, you lapped greedily at the syrup covering his torso.

“Oh fuuuck,” Alexis moaned when you let your lip drag over his nipple.

He ground his groin deliberately into yours, the pressure and friction of his body through your shorts making you groan into his skin. You redoubled your attention on his nipples, licking and sucking on one while bringing one hand up from his waist to pinch the other, rolling the nub between your fingertips before squeezing it hard enough for it to toe the line of “too painful”. Alexis moaned again, the sound throaty and lewd, and you knew that if you looked up you would see his head tilted as far back as it would go in pleasure. His hips were rocking constantly now, stoking the fire of your orgasm deep in your gut as his own cock was rock-hard, flushed and leaking onto your shirt. A particularly hard press down onto you sent your hips jumping to meet his.

“Please, for the love of God do that again.”

The plea, desperate and beautiful, sent fire licking through your veins. You dropped your hand to grip one of his plump, furry asscheeks, and began rocking your hips up into Alexis’ as intensely as he had been rutting into you, rubbing your cock against his through wet fabric. The syrup where your mouth was had long since been licked away, but you kept lavishing his chest with attention as you ground together, sucking and nipping at the sensitive little bud, leaving hickies and bite marks in his supple flesh. Small gasps and whimpers were leaving both of your mouths constantly now, Alexis’ hips stuttering with every grinding motion, his thighs quivering around yours as his climax grew nearer with each second.

Wrapping his arms around your shoulders, he pressed his body even closer to yours. With both of your hard, weeping cocks trapped between you, you could feel every miniscule movement of his warm body against yours. It got to be too much very quickly, and you pulled him flush to you as you came with a muffled cry. He continued rolling his hips with hiccuping sounds, sounds that rose to a loud groan when you let your teeth graze over his nipple. You let it happen again, the barest tease of a bite, a promise that you made good on seconds later when you sank your teeth into the delicate skin. The sharp burst of painful pleasure sent his spine bowing backwards as his own climax shuddered through him. Cum shot out of his cock, more of it than could have come out of a human, pearly ribbons hitting your chin and soaking into your shirt as he went boneless in your arms.

It was a cool spring night when you set out from your village, weighed down with charms and spells, well-wishes and prayers for your safety trailing behind you as you entered the dark forest at the village’s back. You were escorted to the tree line, but no further. No one else dared venture into the woods, not at night, and certainly never when the harvest exchange had yet to happen. The harvest exchange, that, coincidentally, happened to be exactly why you were walking into the dense treeline, wearing nothing except a thin linen robe and the hopes of everyone who lived in the village behind you. Even so, you were completely unafraid of what waited for you. It was not the first time you had made the trek, nor would it be the last, and you knew that no beast would interrupt you before you arrived.

The walk was short, maybe thirty minutes until you broke through the trees into a familiar moon-soaked clearing. This clearing didn’t exist at any other time. You had looked tirelessly the day after you had first visited. It was dotted with new spring wildflowers, petals and the grass around them sparkling with dew. A pond lay perfectly in the centre, the surface reflecting the clear night sky like a mirror, completely undisturbed by wind, or fish, or bug. You walked towards it, shivering as dew clung to your feet and legs. You knew that somewhere on its shore, there would be a skin of sweet, enchanted wine for you. Drinking it would put you to sleep, and waking up would mark the beginning of the exchange.

◃◈▹

You were told that being chosen for the exchange was an honor and a curse rolled into one. After all, the exchange happening was what kept crops from rotting in the ground, kept traps full of game and nets full of fish. Kept the village from starving come winter. You would go into the forest for a week in the spring, and be subjected to unknowably painful trials that would push you to the absolute limit, both physically and mentally. Terrified, and unaware of the wine, you sat in the freezing grass until you had passed out from exhaustion. Your dreams were hyperrealistic, full of visions of forest gods and animalistic rituals. In the dreams, you were in other people’s bodies, and they felt more like...memories. You woke up oddly rejuvenated, despite the fact that it was still night, and surrounded by a trio of satyrs who were looking at you with undisguised interest. You screamed.

“Woah, hey, calm down,” the shortest one said, his nose wrinkling unhappily. “There’s nothing to fucking yell about.”

The taller satyr beside him- Fos, they said- cuffed him around the head. “They’re confused, Ky. Don’t be an ass.”

Fos spoke to you quietly and kindly, at odds with the short one’s- Kyrias’- blunt matter-of-factness. The middle one, introduced as Ilias, said nothing, but his warm brown eyes stayed locked on you. You would stay with them a week, they said, if you chose to accept your role in the exchange. If you did, all three of them would use you how they pleased, and your village would be guaranteed a fruitful year and enough food to last the winter. If you didn’t, they would send you back and someone else would take your place until someone accepted their conditions. The whole thing was mostly formality, Fos had explained. They said that they didn’t have- nor did they desire to have- the power to keep your food from growing, just the power to make sure that it did. Kyrias had scoffed that Fos was too soft-hearted not to use it, even if the harvest exchange never happened.

“So I can just leave?” You asked tearily. Fos looked like they wanted to reach out and comfort you. Ilias’ gaze never left you. “You won’t...do anything to me?”

“Every fucking time,” Kyrias growled. He squared himself directly in your line of sight, forcing you to look at him. “Despite what you’ve probably heard about us, wild spirits aren’t generally inclined to screw every single body they can get their hands on, willing or not. We have standards and morals, shockingly enough. If you want to leave, you can, and we won’t do anything about it.” He grinned mischievously at you. “Besides, it’s fun when someone really, really, honestly wants it.”

Your face heated up, and you hoped that none of them could notice. “And what happens if I stay?”

“You’re ours for the next week. And for a week every spring as long as you want to keep coming back.”

You looked at the three of them, at gentle eyes and twitching ears, at soft-looking fur and cloven hooves. It would be a lie to say that you weren’t nervous about the prospect of staying. Being promised a week of unimaginable torture frightened you, no matter how kind these satyrs seemed, but they genuinely looked like they wouldn’t hurt you. And you were at least a little bit interested in the proposition. “What do I need to do?”

Ilias spoke up for the first time. “Drink this.” His voice was soft and sweet compared to Fos’ deep warmth and Kyrias’ harsher rumble. “It’ll put you to sleep so your body can get ready. Make it easier to have sex, make sure you can cum more than once. You’ll need it, you won’t be getting much rest once we start.”

He held a leather wineskin out to you with furry hands. You hesitated for a second before taking the skin, holding the neck to your mouth, and draining every drop.

◃◈▹

You smiled at the memory. Coming to the clearing in the spring had become a happy part of your life, though one you would be loath to tell anyone else about. It had always seemed suspicious that everyone still thought the exchange was some week of torture, though as far as you could tell, this arrangement wasn’t new to you. You didn’t find the idea of sharing your satyrs particularly appealing- just as they had shyly asked you to keep yourself for them the second spring you spent together- and it was your best guess that everyone before you wanted to keep them too. Or maybe they truly had seen the arrangement as a hardship, and you were just odd.

Stripping yourself of your already scant clothing was a slow, methodical venture. The charms that had been tied to you were first, knots undone and placed in careful piles. Even if you didn’t need them, you weren’t about to disrespect your community by treating those tokens like garbage. Your robe was handled with similar care, slipped from your body and folded into a tidy package. The night air felt good where it caressed your naked skin, and you allowed yourself a single luxuriant stretch before you settled onto the ground, picking up the familiar wineskin in your hands. The leather was worn buttery-soft, etched with floral designs. You unscrewed the top and lifted it to your mouth, enjoying the cool wine as it flowed down over your tongue and down your throat. The rich taste of pomegranate filled your mouth, and you slowly sank into the warm embrace of sleep.

◃◈▹

You were woken up by a searing tongue lapping over your cock. Calloused hands pressed lightly down onto your hips, just barely keeping you pinned into the dewy grass at your back. Hot, slick fluid leaked out of your hole; a handy side-effect of the enchanted wine. The mouth that had been working you over slid down over your balls and perineum, licking up the natural lubricant with indulgent strokes. It took all of your still-half-asleep restraint to not squirm, but you were enjoying this too much to let it be over just yet.

“Damn, they’re still not awake?”

You would recognize Kyrias’ voice, strident even at its quietest, anywhere. Fos’ own whisper broke in.

“Maybe they were just tired.”

“Or maybe Ili,” So it was Ilias who was currently pleasuring you with his skilled, sweet mouth, ”isn’t as good at this as he’d like to think.”

The sound that Ilias made against the cleft of your ass was noncommittal. Knowing him, he was enjoying himself too much to care about any snide jabs at his sexual ability. He continued, alternating between licking your puckered rim, teasing your sensitive head, sucking and nibbling at your balls, for what felt like a very painful eternity before Kyrias cleared his throat pointedly.

“Fine, I’ll wake them up,” Ilias murmured, sounding more than a little put out that he couldn’t keep up this lovely torture.

There was no warning in the split-second between when he pulled away from you and when he simultaneously sank two fingers knuckle-deep into your hole and swallowed your cock all the way down his throat. It was impossible to control the high-pitched whine that spilled from your mouth or the way your hips jumped up at the contact. Your eyes shot open and you saw two of your satyrs settled into the grass beside you. Kyrias was drenched, his furry brown legs splayed open wide and his fingers toying with his slick folds as he watched Ilias pull you from your sleep. Fos’ hands twitched at their sides in a show of extreme restraint, their own cock hard, pre-cum beading at the tip and smearing into their inky fur.

They smiled at you. “Good morning,” they said, voice warm and affectionate. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Mmmmm,” you moaned. “Morning.”

The mouth around your hard length- which had been just insistent enough to be distracting- disappeared from around you. You whimpered, chasing the wet heat upwards, only to be stilled by the fingers still inside of you, the hand still warm and heavy on your hip.

Ilias’ handsome face was already filthy, lips shiny and swollen, his chin covered with spit and your clear lubricant. “You stayed still for a long time, even after you woke up,” he said quietly, crooking his fingers to perfectly send pleasure firing through your body. “It was impressive.”

“What are you talking about?” Kyrias’ voice was both confused and irritated beside you.

“They’ve been awake for a while, haven’t you?” Ilias bumped his flat, fuzzy nose on your thigh. “Before I started eating you out, I think.”

You tried to answer, but he curled his fingers deeper into your ass and your back arched up painfully. He stroked the tiny bundle of nerves quickly, firmly, distractingly, slowing down just enough to let you nod.

A sharp movement caught in your periphery. A very annoyed Kyrias popped into view. “Are you kidding me? We could have been going all this time, and you decided to fuck with us?”

“Y-yes?”

“You are such a fucking tease. And you.” He rounded on Ilias, who was still lying between your legs, pumping his fingers deliberately into you. “You are an asshole. What exactly did you gain from not telling us?”

“Their first orgasm, obviously. You always get most of their attention once we start.”

You wanted to argue that you had yet to actually cum, but when another firm press sent you writhing and moaning helplessly beneath him, you knew that it was only a matter of time. Kyrias made an indignant noise in the back of his throat before reaching forward and tweaking one of Ilias’ snow-white ears. Ilias batted his hand away, his rhythmic massaging into you stilling to sporadic thrusts.

Warm hands landed on your shoulders, jolting you away from the bickering satyrs in front of you and making you jump a little. Fos smiled at you, their hands lovingly cradling your face. They leaned down to kiss your forehead before staring very pointedly at the scene in front of them.

“This seems like the kind of thing that you could handle later, hmm?”

Their voice was quiet and measured, but there was a thin undercurrent of frustration running beneath it. Kyrias and Ilias stopped in their tracks. The fingers inside of you stilled even further, and you made a truly pathetic noise and wriggled after him, trying to coax him to keep going. Fos’ hands tightening around your shoulders forced you still. You glared up at them, infuriated by the mild smile they responded with.

“Ili, finish what you were doing so we can start properly,” they instructed. He nodded, finally starting to move his hand again after placing an apologetic kiss to the inside of your thigh.

Kyrias whirled around to them. “What? Why can’t we just start now?”

“Because we don’t lose anything from letting them cum once. And because I said so.”

Their voice was still quiet, but there was an undeniable power to it that sent even more blood rushing to your groin. It was obvious that it had the same effect on Kyrias, who went deathly still before settling back onto the grass. He let his legs fall open, the slick folds even wetter than before, and brought one hand in between them, stroking his engorged cock. You moaned at the sight, the sound pitching higher when Ilias curled his fingers teasingly into you. He kept fucking his fingers into you, kissing and biting your thighs as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. You were properly writhing now, made useless by the strong hold that Fos had on you. Each movement made their rock-hard length dig into your back. Between the solid heat beneath you, the wet noises of Kyrias excitedly masturbating beside you, and Ilias working you over with skillful fingers, it took almost no time for you to climax. You arched up painfully, shooting sticky white cum over your stomach and hips. A few streaks landed on Ilias’ face where it was pillowed on your leg. He indulgently licked his lips and hands clean, never once breaking eye contact as he sat up.

Even though you just came, the sight had you hardening again. The virtually non-existent recovery period was your favourite part of the wine’s enchantment by a huge margin. Kyrias hopped up as soon as he saw you cum, and pulled you away from Fos in order to kiss you, sloppy and unbelievable. The hand he had on your throat was damp with his slick, and the thought made you groan into his mouth. Fos let the brown-furred satyr pull you away from their hold until you toppled gracelessly on top of him.

He guided one of your hands to his hot, wet folds, moaning softly into your ear when your fingers traced his flushed cock.

“You’re going to fuck me, hmm?” He purred. “You’re going to fucking fill me with your seed, and Fos and Ili are going to take turns stuffing you with their cocks.” Taking your earlobe in his lovely blunt teeth, he tugged on the sensitive flesh. “Maybe this time it will take.”

The day after the first time you slept with them, Fos had explained, as he so often seemed to do, that traditionally deals of this nature with gods and wild spirits were for the purpose of creating magical children, demi-gods and witches and blessed warriors. It wasn’t usually the case any more- and couldn’t be, in your case- but the thought of it, of being used by these spirits like that, had aroused you so viciously that your dick hardened in spite of the days of endless orgasms that had come before. Ever since, all three satyrs had been incapable of not mentioning it whenever you met. Your skin grew hot at the thought of the last spring, when Kyrias had surprised you with a truly gorgeous polished wooden phallus and leather harness that he wore tight around his own hips, and the way he had fucked you so hard that you swore you forgot your own name. All the while he had crooned filth directly into your ear, about breeding you full of kids, fat tottering little things that would have your eyes and be brimming with his woodland magic. You knew it could never happen, but the thought of it appealed to you in some primal, impossible way.

Kyrias slung his muscular legs around your hips, breaking you from your reminiscence. Seeing him laid out beneath you like this was an upsettingly rare sight, no matter how much you enjoyed seeing him riding you, or with your dick in his mouth, or getting mercilessly fucked by one of the others. You were dimly aware of Ilias and Fos sitting near you, hands leisurely stroking over their cocks, but a slow grind of Kyrias’ hips into yours effectively stole all of your attention. He was stunning in the silver moonlight, and oh-so-graciously allowed you several moments to revel in him before demanding anything more.

You drew a reverent fingertip over the bony ridges of his nubby horns. They were bigger and more curved than when you had first met, sturdy structures that rose from his forehead and curved along his skull until the sharp tips were in line with his ears. You knew he hoped that one day they would have the same corkscrew coil that Fos and Ilias’ did. The skin around their bases were unbelievably sensitive, and you ghosted the edge of your nail over it just to hear his shuddering intake of breath. The bridge of his nose was flat and fuzzy with dark brown fur, almost velvet in its feel, the same fur that blended into his hairline and covered his soft ears. Ears that flicked happily when you gently rubbed the delicate skin between your fingers.

A pleased little sound broke from Kyrias’ mouth as you traced the lines of his body down his chest, pausing to trace his pretty brown nipples and the clean, shiny scars that lay underneath them. Dark fur began thickening at the base of his sternum, and you took your time making your way to the apex of his thighs, enjoying the way the strands slipped silkily through your fingers. Thick muscles flexed under warm skin and fur as he tightened his legs around you, pulling your hips flush with his. Both of you groaned when the leaking head of your erection met the hot slick in between his legs.

You could sense the desire rolling off of all three satyrs in oppressive waves, and knew that you had to stop teasing them before their rapidly dwindling patience ran out. Leaning down to kiss Kyrias once more, you lined yourself up with his hole and pushed in. The slip was easy, aided by slick and pre-cum, but still deliciously tight. You bottomed out into him, head falling limply forward at the hot clench of his walls around you.

Kyrias moaned, a low, drawn-out noise of pleasure. “Oh fuck.”

It was tempting to tease him even more, to unravel him until he was a thrashing, begging mess under you. You had only seen him like that once before, but the sight had been so captivating that you desperately wanted to get him like that again. Unfortunately, you could tell that now was not the time. You pulled back almost all the way, before slamming viciously back into him. The force sent his back bowing dramatically, the points of his horns digging into the soft earth behind his head. You continued thrusting deep into him rhythmically. Each driving push made his back curve even more, drawing wanton moans from both of you that mingled with the sound of your hips slapping against his.

A solid, warm body appeared behind yours. “I’m going to breed you so full,” Ilias purred into your ear, his cock huge and leaking against the cleft of your ass.

You shuddered between the two satyrs. “Please,” you whined, pausing your harsh thrusts to roll your ass back against him.

His thumb caught on your entrance, still loose from where he had fingered you open and leaking with magical slick, before he positioned his thick cockhead against your rim. He didn’t give you the courtesy of easing himself in, knowing from seemingly endless experience that it wasn’t necessary, that you didn’t even need it. The pace he set was immediately unforgiving, his shaft longer and thicker than any human’s, splitting you open. Each time Ilias pushed into you he sent your hips forward, sinking even deeper into the delicious heat of Kyrias’ body.

“MMmmm-ahhnnnn!” You moaned, mouth falling open. Drool fell from your gaping jaw, splashing onto Kyrias’ already sweat-slick chest.

He yanked one of your hands down from where you were bracing your body beside his head and brought it down to his beautifully engorged cock. You could feel blood pulsing through the sweet nub around the base of the head where it emerged from his soaked folds. It was obvious what he wanted from you, and you gently massaged the sensitive organ. His legs tightened even further around your body, cloven hooves digging into your ass just above where Ilias was aggressively fucking into you. You knew he was getting close, and kept working him over with whatever scraps of focus you still had to spare as your hips were pushed ever deeper into him. A broken moan tore from his throat and his walls spasmed around you as he tipped over the edge of his first orgasm of the night. Kyrias’ eyes rolled back into his head and he went limp below you, body bouncing as Ilias kept fucking your cock into him.

Ilias wrapped his arms around you, chest plastered against your own sweaty back. He stroked rough fingertips over your nipples, teasing the pebbled buds into hard peaks. His hips continued driving into you, and he squeezed the meat of your chest hard. You cried out, arching down into Kyrias’ body where it still lay beneath you.

“Look at you,” Fos said from somewhere beside you. A wet sound and their breathy voice made it obvious that they were slowly jerking themself off to the scene in front of them. “So sensitive already. What’s gonna happen when we breed you full of kids?”

“Mmmmm,” Kyrias moaned, his hands joining Ilias’ where they were fondling your chest. “I’d love to see you like that. Can you imagine it, tits all swollen and leaking? I bet you’d be even more sensitive then, right Ili?”

Ilias brushed his nose along the slope of your shoulder. “Yeah. You’d probably cum at the slightest touch.” He drove into you particularly hard, making you lose your balance until the only thing keeping you up was his grip on your torso. “God, what I wouldn’t give to see your belly full up with a litter of little satyrs. I wonder,” he growled, uncharacteristically aggressive, “which of our seeds would take, if we were all to fuck you full?”

Your climax snuck up on you unexpectedly, and you came deep inside of Kyrias with a stuttering moan. Ilias didn’t give you any rest, his hips still driving into the wet heat of your ass. It only took a few more thrusts before he, too, climaxed, his mouth buried in the nape of your neck. Hot cum filled your body, more than you would have thought possible, shooting deep into you until all that was coming out was weak little pulses. Kyrias carefully extricated himself from underneath you right as Ilias pulled his softening cock from your ass. You could feel your puffy rim flutter at the emptiness, and moaned at the obscene feeling of hot globs of cum slipping from your hole.

One of Fos’ large hands wrapped around your hip, the other one scooping Ilias’ cum back into your hole before they levelled their own massive cock with your entrance and pushed in. You moaned loudly, back arching painfully from the stimulation.

“Hey, how about you put that mouth to good use?”

Kyrias squatted down in front of you, his wet folds glistening invitingly. You didn’t need any more prompting to bury your face between his legs. It was a filthy, sloppy process, less properly eating him out than doing your best to make him cum with the vibrations from the desperate noises that Fos was pulling from you. They were already close from stroking their cock before, if the erratic jump of their hips was anything to go by, and you were rapidly approaching a third climax yourself. You lapped hungrily at Kyrias’ folds, licking up your own cum from where it leaked out of them, suckling softly at his swollen cock, moaning desperately the entire time. The vibrations from your mouth were clearly working for him, because he started bucking forward against your face, chasing the friction until he was cumming again, slick dripping from his twitching hole. You could feel yourself clench in response, and Fos made a strangled noise at the feeling of your hole tighten even more around their girth.

“I’m going to cum!” They groaned.

The feeling of their hand wrapping around your leaking cock made you jump, and they pulled another wailed orgasm from you with tight strokes. Sticky spend spilled weakly from your cock, your energy flagging even with the support of the wine. Your rim twitched around the thick cock seated inside you, and Fos moaned quietly as the feeling milked them dry. Even more cum spilled deep into you, mixing with Ilias’ spend as it filled your belly. The sticky fluid pressed against the walls of your stomach, and you bet that if you looked down, your stomach would be distended from the seed that filled you. You went completely limp in Fos’ arms. They pulled out, rubbing the worn-out muscles of your back as you collapsed to the grass.

Your face was sticky with a mix of slick and cum, your cock and stomach covered in the same filth. The black fur covering Fos’ hindquarters and the white fur of Ilias’ was soaked in the same, and Kyrias’ furred folds were still wet with your spit. A shiver went through you as a gob of cum leaked out of your fucked out hole.

Fos swiped it up with one of their fingers, licking the digit clean in an obscene display of affection. “Let’s rest for a bit before we go again.”

Going on blind dates is a little like rolling dice. They always started in the same place, everyone had their little superstitions and rituals to try to make them come out right, but more often than not they ended with uncomfy kisses, awkward goodbyes, and an unspoken hope that you never had to see each other again (okay, the metaphor isn’t perfect, but the foundation holds true). Sometimes, however, blind dates turned out great, a perfect six (or whatever it is you needed to roll), and you ended up really liking the person.

Sometimes blind dates ended with you making out with a massive cutie on your couch after dinner.

The two of you had been introduced by a mutual friend, and had hit it off the minute you met. Characteristically uncomfortable small talk over mid-afternoon coffee smoothly turned into raucous laughter and flirtatious touching between bites of cheap greasy pizza on the hood of his car. You had no idea how the very attractive mountain of a man- Arthur, he’d said in a voice that seemed far too sweet for his intimidating figure- would react when you’d purred a suggestive (but not explicit) invitation to him, but his ears flushed and he stammered out a “yes” before taking your hand and following you inside. You wasted no time leading Arthur to your couch and sitting down next to him.

“So,” you said, “what kind of movie do you want to watch?”

“I like horror.” His voice was a rumbly baritone that distinctly reminded you of brown sugar. “And anything science-y.”

You wracked your brain for any good scary science movies that you had already watched and wouldn’t get distracted while watching again.

“How does Alien sound?”

It was a safe option, as far as you were concerned. It was a good film, a classic in both scary and science-y departments, and you’d seen it enough times that staying focused on the task of “seduce the hot guy on your couch” wouldn’t be too hard.

“I’ve seen it before…” Shit, maybe he wanted to watch something new. “But I always like rewatching it.”

You cheered internally, but kept a calm exterior as you went through the motions of setting up your TV. As soon as you did, you stood up to turn off the lights. “Anything I can get for you?” You asked, running a very flirtatious hand over his shoulders as you passed behind him.

A tiny shiver went through him at your touch, and you relished in it. “N-no, I’m good for now. Thank you, though.”

Your heart squeezed a little at his very pink ears and the blush staining the back of his neck.

God, he’s so cute.

It was impossible to deny yourself a longer-than-entirely-appropriate moment to take in the very pretty flush before flicking the lights off. With the room now dark, you made your way back to the couch. You sit down as close to Arthur as you dared. Warmth soaked through the inches between your bodies, and you had to physically resist the urge to move closer to him. Trying not to jump him right then and there was taking up so much of your brain-power that you didn’t notice his hand creeping towards you until a warm pinky brushed up against your thigh. You stifled a jump and turned to see his handsome, bearded face staring at you, bathed in the light from the TV.

“Is this okay?” He asked, just barely moving his fingers against your clothed leg.

You excitedly shifted in your seat so that you were facing him, kneecaps touching. “Are you kidding me? I’ve been actively holding back from kissing you for hours!”

“Oh.” His eyes went wide. “You can, if you want. I, um. I’d like you to.”

That was all the invitation you needed to dart forward and press your lips to his. It was quick and chaste, and you pulled back almost immediately. Arthur was frozen, awestruck, for several seconds before he shook himself slightly. He moved towards you cautiously, eyes darting nervously around your face, before cupping your jaw in his free hand and kissing you. His lips started moving against yours almost as soon as they touched, the motion a sweet push and pull between you, his beard just scratching against your face. The warm pinky against your leg became a large hand that rested on top of it, squeezing in time with the kiss. You hummed, pleased, and teased the seam of his lips with the tip of your tongue. Arthur’s hand tightened on your thigh and he opened his mouth to you. The kiss turned sloppy, tongues slipping together with slick, filthy sounds.

Arthur’s hand traced a firm path from your thigh to your hip, where it held tighter and stayed for several heated seconds. You pulled away from the kiss, your lips separating with a wet smack. He chased after you with a little whine, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder and lowering his other hand from your jaw to your hip. With another little noise deep the back of his throat, he began nosing against your neck and along your collar. You had to stifle a giggle at the feeling of his facial hair tickling your skin.

Stilling him with a hand to the back of his head, you carefully threaded your fingers through his hair and pulled him back. His eyes stuttered shut and he let out a barely-audible groan, hands twitching on your hips. You grinned and tightened your grip experimentally, very pleased with the strangled moan that he let out.

“You’re so hot,” you cooed to him

“You are too,” he panted, eyelashes fluttering with each pull of your fingers, which hadn’t let up yet.

The sight was too much for you. With a murmured “come here” you pulled him back to you, kissing him fiercely. It was rough, messy, all clacking teeth and noses bumping into each other. The sounds of your mouths moving together was obscene, and you could feel saliva slipping out where your lips met. You kept your hold on his hair, pulling his head this way and back to control the kiss, little spark of arousal went through you with each breathless moan that fell from Arthur’s mouth to yours. His hands kept gripping into your hips, growing tighter with each second that passed.

“Do you want me in your lap?” You asked, backing off just long enough to get the question out.

Arthur didn’t even bother doing that, nodding without breaking the kiss. Before you could even start to move, his hands slipped under your ass and he bodily moved you until you were straddling him. He was so warm beneath you, and you couldn’t help but grind down against him. The feeling of his cock, hot and impossibly hard beneath you, was intoxicating, and you rocked against him, groaning into his mouth with each motion. You could feel his bulge swell even more where it lay against the inside of your thigh. Somewhere in the back of your mind you distantly thought that getting him any harder should have been impossible, but you were too caught up in the feeling of wet, messy kisses being pressed to your jaw and neck to care. His body was moving under you, slight little shifts that you could feel echoing everywhere that he was pressed flush against you. The collar of your shirt was pulled down and away from your shoulder, the tip of his nail dragging against your skin, and he bit down on the newly-exposed skin, biting and sucking until you were whimpering in his lap, grinding down over and over again until you could feel your climax approach all too fast. Both of his hands had returned to their places on your waist, and they bit in as he pulled you to him, his own hips bucking up to meet yours every time. He had stopped his assault on your neck, no doubt leaving a dark, tender bruise behind, and his mouth lay slack and open against you, desperate moans and hot saliva spilling out. All of a sudden, ten pin pricks of sharp, impossible pain bloomed where his hands lay, and you came with a wail, hips stuttering to a stop against his.

Your eyes were closed tightly, chest heaving as you slumped over onto Arthur’s chest. He continued to grind his hard cock upwards, but it was much gentler now, slow rolls of his hips as one of his hands stroked your back. As you came down from your orgasm, you distantly noticed that the TV had stopped (stupid old piece of shit, never worked properly). You also realized just how uncomfortable the wetness of your pants was becoming, and you went to pull back. The hand that was caressing your back locked around your body. You shifted around, testing the give of his arms. Fully immobilized, but not necessarily complaining, you kissed his neck indulgently and wriggled your hips a little.

“As much as I’m enjoying this,” you purred into Arthur’s ear, “I really fucking want to suck you off.”

“Shit.”

You startled back as far as you could at the sound of his voice. The sweet brown-sugar baritone was shredded, gruff and way raspier than it had been.

Way raspier than it should have been, you thought.

You tried to pull back again. His arms didn’t budge. “Arthur, what’s up?” You asked gently.

A deep, quiet whine was his only response. “Did I do something wrong?” He tightened his grip on you, and your ribs groaned in protest. Your heartbeat began to climb as you squirmed again. “Arthur, let me go, you’re hurting me.”

The vice-like arms around you flew away from your body, a deep sigh of relief escaping your lungs. You went to pull back again, to look in his face and ask what was wrong, but his strangled voice stopped you in your tracks. “I’m sorry! I just… I didn’t want you to look at me.”

“Why? I’ve already seen you.”

“Not really. You wouldn’t be here if you had.” He sounded like he was about to cry.

Your heart squeezed painfully at the sound. Without a second thought, you leaned your face into the heated skin of his neck. You could feel hair there, thick and soft, that hadn’t been there before. “Whatever it is, I’ll do my best to not freak out. Or I can close my eyes and you can go, or calm down, or whatever you need to do. Just tell me what you want.”

“I want...I want to tell you,” he said, in that shy near-whisper of a shared secret. “You can look at me.”

Slowly, slow enough for him to tell you to stop, you shifted back to look at Arthur in the face. Whatever it was that you had been expecting, it wasn’t this. Thick, dark hair- no, now that you saw it up close it was very clearly fur- covered his face and neck, darkened his temples, sprung from his arms and hands. His jaw had broadened and lengthened, forming a sort of muzzle, and his canines had grown, pushing insistently at black-edged lips. Large claws tipped his furry hands. His gaze was dropped to his lap in what was clearly some combination of fear and shame, but…

You were undeniably intrigued by what you saw. Intrigued, confused, and more than a little aroused.

“You’re…”

“I’m a werebear.” Despite the new gruffness, his voice sounded fragile. “I’m a monster.”

You shook your head emphatically and leaned forward to put your arms around his shoulders. “I was going to say that you’re gorgeous, but sure, let’s go with that.”

Arthur blinked at you in confusion. “You’re not scared. Or disgusted.”

“Why should I be?” You asked. “You backed off when I told you to, you clearly don’t want to hurt me…”

“But I’m a monster!” He cut you off, heedless of how his hands moved to rest on your thighs. “I’m not normal, I’m not human.”

You silenced him with a finger to his lips. “And I don’t care. I like you quite a bit, if you couldn’t tell. This is just something fun and extra. I’m not going to run screaming for the hills, although I would like to know more about it, at some point..”

“Really?”

“Yes,” you said, all playfulness abandoning your face and voice, letting every ounce of sincerity you had in you spill over. “Really.”

Those large, furry arms wrapped around you, cradling your body against his in a warm embrace. You leaned into it, your hand rubbing the back of his neck. Hiccupping breaths stuttered through his chest and into you.

“Thank you,” his voice rumbled where it was tucked against your neck.

You shifted your weight in the hug, trying to ease the pressure on your knees, and felt his cock against the inside of your thigh. “Still hard?” You teased.

Arthur’s eyes shot open and he pulled away, face stained red under the fur. “Oh damn, I didn’t… shit, I’m sorry.!”

“Don’t apologize,” you cooed, careful not to brush his heated length. “Do you want me to help you with it? I did tell you how much I want to blow you.”

Seconds passed and you questioned whether you had crossed a line, staying stock-still until he nodded his head. “Yes, please.”

He sounded shy when he asked, and you couldn’t help but kiss the tip of his nose before slipping backwards off his lap to the floor. Now that you were level with his crotch, you could really take in just how big he was. The bulge in his pants had seemed large when he was under you, but in front of you it was massive. His thighs were thicker than they had been before, robust muscle and fat dwarfing your hands as you slid them up to his straining zipper. His body heat seared your palms through the fabric. You couldn’t help but wonder how you hadn’t noticed him shift beneath you. Without arousal clouding your brain, you could properly marvel at just how significant- how beautiful- his newly monstrous form was. Your hands paused over his fly and you looked up at him, staring through your lashes, silently waiting for permission to continue.

“Please touch me,” Arthur begged, his hips bucking up slightly.

You smiled at him, scooting forward and turning your head to kiss the inside of his knee, before slowly undoing his fly. Letting your fingers graze over him with maddening softness every time you could, you slid your hands up through the soft fur on his abdomen to push the bottom of his shirt out of the way. A groan escaped his mouth as you scratched over his stomach, into the warm, musky fur on his pelvis, and pulled the waistband of his boxers down just far enough for his dick to spring free, almost hitting you in the face.

The way he had pressed against the zipper of his pants had not done him justice. His shaft was easily the length of your forearm, the head flushed red and glistening with pre-cum. It bobbed and twitched with each minute movement of his body, a lewd display that you thought you could watch for hours. The base was surrounded by a nest of curly fur that you desperately wanted to bury your fingers- or your nose, dear Lord- into. A moment later, the euphoric realization came over you that you could.

You wasted no more time before ducking your head in and pressing an open, messy kiss to the underside of his length. Trailing your mouth along the thin skin, you happily made your way to that gorgeous dark fur. The feeling of nuzzling into it was unbelievable, the strands silky and thick on your skin, that lovely musk filling your senses and making your head go a little fuzzy. With a little moan, you pressed in closer, licking and kissing constantly, letting saliva slip out of your mouth to wet the base of Arthur’s shaft. You carefully tucked your fingers under the waist of his underwear to pull his balls free. They were covered in a dusting of that same fur, heavy and hot where you cupped them in your hands. You made your way back up his shaft, pausing indulgently to suck on the skin of his balls, relishing in the way that Arthur’s thighs quivered where they bracketed your shoulders. Clear, slick fluid dribbled from the head of his dick when you ran the tip of your tongue around its base. A drop fell to your face and you wiped it clean with the back of your hand.

“Oh shit.” His voice came out rumbly and strangled when you delicately lapped pre-cum from the prettily flushed head.

A quick glance upwards showed his bottom lip caught between wickedly sharp teeth, face reddened and eyes shut tight. You mentally promised yourself that one day, if Arthur gave you the chance, you would edge him until he cried with just your mouth.

This was not that day.

In a single swift motion, you stretched your mouth as far around his cock as it would go. You could barely take a quarter of the length and your jaw began aching in seconds, but all you could think was how damn good his heated flesh felt against the inside of your mouth. A moan broke free of your throat, sending vibrations down his massive cock. More pre-cum squirted directly into the back of your mouth and he bucked his hips up, only slightly, but still enough to make you choke around him and draw tears to your eyes.

His balls tightened where they were still cupped in your hands, and you could tell he was close. As disappointed as you were that you couldn’t keep going longer, you knew that he had already been close to his climax when you were dry-humping each other like a pair of horny teenagers. Besides, your jaw was really starting to hurt from where it was gaped around his huge girth. Pulling back far enough that his cockhead just barely rested against your lips, you paused for several seconds, never letting the slick tip leave your skin, smearing a combination of spit and pre-cum onto your mouth and cheeks. You panted, catching your breath for a few moments before you took him back in. Suckling delicately at his tip, you relished in the bursts of pre-cum that shot into you before steeling yourself, relaxing your throat, and swallowing his shaft as far as it would go.

Arthur cried out, the sound deliciously caught between a growl and a wail. His breaths turned ragged, control fraying from arousal and the effort it took him not to fuck upwards into your mouth. You desperately wanted him to feel good, and began working him over aggressively. You bobbed your head up and down, copious amounts of spit sliding down his shaft, gagging as you took him down as far as physically possible. Swallowing around him when his cock hit the back of your throat, your mouth rippled around him and you rolled his balls in your hands.

“I’m...fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

With a great deal of effort, you pulled your tongue back and probed it into the slit at the end of his head. Clearly the intrusion, coupled with the slick pressure of your mouth and loving caress of your hands, was too much, and it pushed him over the edge of his climax.

Salty, bitter cum shot down your throat in thick ropes, making you choke again. You swallowed as much as you could, but it was just too much, and you pulled off, coughing. His orgasm kept going, longer than any you had ever seen before, covering your face and torso with sticky cum. It dripped from your body onto the tile beneath you, spilled from the corners of your mouth, hung in creamy drops from your eyelashes.

A huge, clawed hand carefully wiped the spend from your eyes, moving to cup the back of your head. “Are you okay?” Arthur’s voice was gentle and concerned under the animalistic rasp.

You nodded tiredly, leaning into one of his thick thighs. Exhausted from the excitement, your eyes began to slip closed, your breath evening out into the shallow rhythm of sleep. The last thing you felt was a sweet kiss on your forehead and Arthur’s deep rumbly baritone.