[Shoka's wings splay out beneath her as Nanami tips her onto her back, as desperate and vulnerable as a caught bird under their touch. She gasps and bites her lip, eyes shut tight, but the reins are already slipping away even at this slow pace, and her hips jerk. She feels small then, completely at Nanami's mercy, but in a way that makes the heat of her want crest into a full-blown fever. She's never had any trouble handing control over to them for temporary safe-keeping, after all.
I want to be in you, Nanami says in that same husky, uncaged animal voice that makes her burn. Shoka would counter that with a, So why aren't you? but the words tumble out of her head the second she feels Nanami's claws close at her hips, tugging at her waistband. She can't squirm out of her pants fast enough (all the impatient lashing her new tail is doing definitely doesn't help, either).
Once she has, a split second of self-consciousness makes her pause. Glancing down, she sees scales creeping up along the flat of her belly, and past them the juncture of her thighs, where that tough armor gives way to soft turquoise folds. Her body—just a little different. Then she sees Nanami, already hard again, looking at her like she's the best, most beautiful thing in any world, and the swell of pride and need makes her forget how to be nervous.
Nanami lines them up, the tip of his cock right there, and she moans low and primal in her throat. Her legs wrap themselves around his waist, and a rolling motion of her hips brings him against her, dragging over her slickness. The brush of direct contact makes her voice a whine.]
Come on—please, please, Chiaki...
[They slide into her easily, like they belong there—but slow, savoring and careful, filling her inch by inch. With a shudder and a choked whimper, she tilts her head back and grips at the bedsheets, writhing under Nanami as she savors, too, adjusting to the feeling of every bit of their length opening her up that much more.]
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I want to be in you, Nanami says in that same husky, uncaged animal voice that makes her burn. Shoka would counter that with a, So why aren't you? but the words tumble out of her head the second she feels Nanami's claws close at her hips, tugging at her waistband. She can't squirm out of her pants fast enough (all the impatient lashing her new tail is doing definitely doesn't help, either).
Once she has, a split second of self-consciousness makes her pause. Glancing down, she sees scales creeping up along the flat of her belly, and past them the juncture of her thighs, where that tough armor gives way to soft turquoise folds. Her body—just a little different. Then she sees Nanami, already hard again, looking at her like she's the best, most beautiful thing in any world, and the swell of pride and need makes her forget how to be nervous.
Nanami lines them up, the tip of his cock right there, and she moans low and primal in her throat. Her legs wrap themselves around his waist, and a rolling motion of her hips brings him against her, dragging over her slickness. The brush of direct contact makes her voice a whine.]
Come on—please, please, Chiaki...
[They slide into her easily, like they belong there—but slow, savoring and careful, filling her inch by inch. With a shudder and a choked whimper, she tilts her head back and grips at the bedsheets, writhing under Nanami as she savors, too, adjusting to the feeling of every bit of their length opening her up that much more.]