#suckling

Yautja Pups doodles to feed your soul. To think these scaly potatoes will grow up to be giant killing machines one day X3

(1, 2, 3) Sam'Wa always loved giving headbutts. And Wy'ld was often the victim of those 'love taps'.

(4) That hound plushie is Sav'kat's favorite toy ever.

(5) Puppy Pile! That's when you know they're having a very good nap.

(6) Baby Sav'Kat is just spending time with her new moma, Wuut'ka. She's showing him a nifty bird skull she caught just for him.

I have strawberry gumdrops.

Would you like to suck on one?

Ooh, that’s nice.

Faye Reagan and Georgia, from “Set #3055” at Matt’s Models (site currently closed)

He woke before I did. He always does after a night like that.

I stayed still, eyes closed, letting him believe I was still asleep. I like the way he hovers on the edge—unsure whether to move, unsure whether he’s allowed to touch. That moment of restraint is better than any alarm clock.

Eventually, I shifted—just slightly—and that was all he needed. He leaned in and nuzzled the curve of my hip, then lower, then back up again, slow and steady. I kept my eyes closed. I don’t need to look at him to feel everything.

He knows the routine. His hands stayed behind his back. No wandering. Just lips and breath and quiet devotion.

When he reached the swell of my breast, he paused—waiting. I didn’t say a word, but I tilted toward him, just enough.

Permission.

He latched on like he’d been starved for it. No urgency, no begging. Just warm, rhythmic suckling, the kind that makes time slip away. I let him stay like that, nestled against me, feeding off the skin I let him have. It’s not always about denial. Sometimes it’s about letting him fill himself with something he can’t get anywhere else.

His breathing slowed. His whole body softened.

Mine didn’t.

That’s the difference between us. He melts. I stay steel.

But I stroked his hair, just once, and whispered, “Good boy.”

That’ll carry him through the rest of the week.