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[longwillows]

reach out?

the smell of fresh water in dry desert air. the feeling of cautious curiosity. a place as dangerous as it is resplendent.

c

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[longwillows]

[It's a struggle to hold still as he kisses and marks her inner thighs, every nerve more sensitive for the neglect they've undergone since her tethers were snapped. She eases her legs apart just slightly as he works to give him more room, head tilting back with a pleased moan when she feels the drag of his tongue. As usual, her hand quickly finds the top of his head so that she can run her fingers through his hair, now that he's no longer holding the digits captive in his wicked mouth.

Her toes curl, pressing the pads of them into the floor when he reaches her clit and sucks, the action also prompting some shorter, sharper sound of appreciation. Mild and breathless confusion follows when he pulls back to speak, though it quickly becomes an interested arch of the brow and a curious smirk, her big ears already piqued by Arthur's vocalizations.] Yes, sir.

[And turn around she does, settling her hands flat atop the desk to support her shoulders as she leans over the well-tested piece of furniture. When she feels the wet heat of his tongue further back between her legs, it draws a surprised gasp, a startled flinch seizing her hips momentarily as she reflexively tenses up—which lifts her tails too, fur fluffing near her spine and their tapered tips curling upwards.

Then the sudden intake of breath escapes again as delighted laughter. No need to make it any more difficult on him; she steps out of the fallen panties and edges her heels outwards along the floor to widen the open angle of her legs in invitation. She makes an effort to keep the drape of her tails off of him too, but they already tremble with even that level of restraint—or perhaps it's the excitement.]