Gentle
"I don't know how you can put those things in your body," Bach muttered, head resting in one of his paws. He watched with slight revulsion as Misha the bear plucked up a micro from the bowl. You had to grab a micro careful: a forefinger and thumb around their midsection with enough pressure to hold them but not hurt them, and then you dunked them into the heavy gravy that filled the bowl. Misha was an expert at this. He held the micros down, drowning them, just long enough that they mostly stopped struggling, and then plucked them out. Misha actually leaned forward, so the micros still trapped in the bowl could look up and see the underside of his jaw line and the start of his throat. Generally, at that point, the micro who Misha was holding would catch his breath and begin to fight and squirm, sending splashes of the heavy gravy onto Misha's chin and lips. And then the tiny would plop down onto the bear's outstretched tongue. Misha closed his mouth, savored the flavor of the gravy and the tiny, before tilting his head back and gulping noisily.
It was disgusting.
Bach looked down at his plate. There were dots of the brown gravy staining it. Bach had not eaten any of the tinies, himself, but their kicks had sent the drops towards him. "Are you going to have any?" Misha the bear asked.
Bach looked back to him. He was holding up a rodent by the tail, its little arms covering its chest as it shivered something fierce. Misha leaned forward, and dropped the rat onto Bach's plate. It plopped wetly, and then curled into a tight ball.
"Eat it, just give it a try, and then I won't ever both you about it again."
Bach lifted his free hand, and plucked the rat up by the tail. There was no dangling, no savoring, no sloshing and swilling the poor creature about on his tongue. Bach simply tossed it into his open jaws, and crunched down upon it. The body popped between his strong, sharp teeth, washing his tongue in the blood and the gravy, which mixed in an odd, delicious way. He gulped hard, swallowing the contents of his mouth down, and then took a drink of water to wash away the taste. "You know what they pump those micros full of, right? Antibiotics, hormones, ground up bones and nails and tails."
Misha rolled his eyes, and squeezed the last of the micros around the middle. He dunked her beneath the gravy several times, getting her and his fingers nice and soaked, before lifting her up, and stuffing her into his awaiting maw. As with all the others, he swallowed her whole and alive, and then pushed away from the table, patting his belly happily. "I don't get what you have against micros. You just ate a steak. Meat is meat."
"The steak doesn't look like a shrunken me. The butcher is very clever like that. You know, I don't think you're a bear at all," Bach muttered, standing up and taking out his wallet. "I think you are a pig who was accidentally born with fur."
Misha chuckled. "Same time next week?"
Bach nodded, placing his share of the bill down on the table and walking away.
He felt a little odd walking home. His stomach was rumbling and churning in a strange sort of way. He had never eaten a micro before, and it didn't seem to be agreeing with his system. Or maybe it was that sickly sweet gravy the micro was bathed in. Bach didn't like sweet things.
When he got home, he mixed himself an herbal drink that would help soothe his stomach. It went to work immediately, soothing and easing the bubbling inside him. He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off, before draping it over a chair. Bach was in excellent shape. He was very careful about what he put into his body, and worked out almost every day, and damn did it show. He would never admit it, but as he walked to the living room, he happened to pass a mirror on the wall. And, maybe he did stop for a moment, just to examine himself. He was muscular, and strong. Even beneath his fur, the curves of his abdomen, the bulge of his biceps, and the tightness of his buttocks was quite apparent.
When he sat down in his recliner and flicked on the TV, he found his stomach rumbling slightly. There was a bag of protein chips on the side table from the prior night. He casually picked the bag up and plopped it between his legs, before getting comfortable and reaching his hand inside. It was bad to eat when bored, he knew, but he hadn't had much dinner today. Just to be a jerk, Misha had ordered the "Micro Platter" for his meal, and then the micro desert. Disgusting.
He groped about in the bag, pawing blindly for some of the chips, but only crumbs brushed past his fingers. He grumbled, and took the bag by the base, before lifting it to his lips and tilting his head back. His tongue rolled out, and his mouth opened wide, revealing the pinkish tongue and saliva drenched, predatory fangs. A stale breath blew into the bag as waited, listened as crumbs scraped against the mirrored interior of the bag, but suddenly a loud, piercing scream broke the vague silence The wailing scream was so piercing he immediately put the bag down and closed his mouth, his sensitive doggy ears actually ringing. A lone, amber eye peered inside the bag, and he caught sight of white fur against the dark interior.
"Fucking pests," Bach muttered, hoisting himself out of the recliner and heading to the kitchen. He held the bag by the top, fist clenched around the rim to keep the micro from climbing out, as he rummaged through the cupboard. Eventually, he settled on a large popcorn bowl, and poured the contents of the bag into it. Little crumbs and bits of chips came out; in fact it was only with several shakes and wiggles that the little white pest finally lost her grip, tumbling head over tail, into the bowl's middle. Immediately, the white pest came to life, running to one side of the bowl and attempting to climb out, but the grease that covered its paws meant finding a grip was difficult. And even if it did manage to get to the rim of the bowl, a finger flicked it back down. Bach was oddly impressed with its determination, but after nine flicks, it simply curled into a little ball and rested in the bowl's middle.
Bach poked it with an extended claw, making it shiver. It was a little arctic vixen, albino white from head to toe. Skinny and scrawny, as micros tended to be, if not for the subtle wideness of her hips and the cute breasts, like little mosquito bites on her miniscule form, she could have been androgynous. "What were you doing in my chips?" Bach asked. "Those things aren't cheap, you know."
The vixen looked up at Bach a moment, blue eyes wide and filled with horror, before she hid her head with her arms and resumed her shivering. "Pest!" he said, slamming his fist against the table. "Look at me."
Her eyes shot towards him, staring at him, eyes wide. He braced himself, paws flanking the bowl, as he lowered his head slowly. His muzzle loomed, and he sniffed her, before asking, "What is your name?"
The vixen's mouth moved, and Bach's sharp ears noticed a subtle whimper, but he couldn't make out her words.
"Say that again?"
"A-anna," she said, this time a little louder.
"What were you doing with my chips, Anna?" he growled.
"I was... I... I was hungry..." she said, ears down and nose pointed to the ground. She fumbled with her tail, giving it a nervous squeezing. "I... I was... I hadn't eaten and I... I'm sorry... I just... hungry and so..."
"You figured you would just wander inside and steal my stuff. Pfft, typical parasite."
"I'm not a-!" She lowered her head. "I just..."
Bach turned and walked to the sink, leaving Anna alone. Once more, she attempted to climb out of the bowl, and even made it to the rim, before she felt a tight pressure on her tail. She was hoisted into the air suddenly; but held back a scream, as she was dropped into Bach's other hand. She landed on the center pad, his thumb coming to drape across her belly and chest as he took her to the sink. The water was on a low trickle. "I am going to put you under," Bach explained. "Hold your breath."
Anna nodded, closing her eyes and pinching her nose, as the warm water washed over her. When she was pulled away, she scrubbed and rubbed her fur, working the grease out of her hands and feet, the most important parts of her. "Can't have you smelling like a bag of chips, or I'm going to eat you," the black wolf muttered. "I'm still hungry, you know."
When she seemed to be clean enough, Bach picked up a dish towel, and draped it across his opposite hand. He dropped Anna onto it, before setting her down on a table, and walking to the refrigerator. "I'm going to make some eggs. You can have some if you would like."
Anna carefully dried her fur with the towel, slowly, as if when she was done she might end up in the wolf's belly. She would not be surprised if this was all some sort of trap. She wondered if the towel might be scented, so vague that only a wolf's acute nose would catch a whiff. What if, now, her fur was basked in a scent that made him hungry? She would not put it past one of the giants.
His back was still towards her. He was at the stove now, and by the smell in the air, eggs were indeed cooking. Was she his side dish? Or was she the main course, the eggs just to add some bulk to his meal. She lifted her arms to her snout and sniffed furiously, sure she would catch a whiff of bacon. She even licked herself with a worried tongue, but she did not taste like anything. Then, what game was the wolf playing? She watched as he cooked his food, his back to her, his tail hanging limp out behind him. She wanted to escape, but how? Climbing down the table's leg would take too long, and what fury would befall her if the wolf found her? She watched him. He didn't even seem concerned with her. Once or twice, he looked back at the table and noticed the white speck, and looked surprised, as if noticing her for the first time.
The smell of eggs sizzling on the griddle was absolutely mouthwatering. Inside the bag were barely a few crumbs, far from enough to satisfy her. She was still so hungry. She was always so hungry, and the smell of eggs, by the heavens, she couldn't stop drooling.
Bach moved the eggs to a plate, and set them down on the kitchen table. He poured himself a glass of mango juice, and put it on the table as well. And then, hands free, he approached the vixen, who was suddenly aware she hadn't even attempted to escape.
He offered his hand. "Get on," Bach growled, but Anna did not move, prompting the wolf to catch her by the tail and lift her. The pressure and pain of being held like this was agonizing, but she did not dare scream. Soon enough she was lying on the warm, center pad of the black paw. She was carried to the table, and set down near the plate. She whimpered as the fork, twice her height, lifted, but Bach simply moved a small portion of the eggs to the side of the plate nearest her. "Eat, drink, and then I want you out of here, you got that? Go pester my neighbor; she's a cunt, anyway."
Anna reached for a handful of the egg, scooping it up. She lifted it to her mouth, and stuffed it inside, cheeks puffed from how much she had forced past her lips. "I..." she said, mouth full. She took a moment to chew, and then said, "You... You're throwing me out?"
"No, I'm letting you go." Bach took a large forkful of eggs and stuffed them into his mouth. His amber eyes focused upon the little creature, who quietly scooped another pawful of egg up to her lips. Her belly was already aching from the richness of the food. She managed to force one more mouthful down before she took several steps back and sat.
"You... you can't... let me go."
_ _ "Yes I can, see how much bigger I am than you?"
Anna began to toy with her tail, twisting it, rubbing it. "I... I can't... I... This is the only home I've ever known. I don't know how to survive out there! I'm not a feral! You can see that. You can see I'm not a feral! I... I try to help you, whenever I can. I clean up your crumbs and... you never even knew I was living here. You... you won't ever see me, I promise. I just... I was just hungry and I didn't think you would eat the chips. You never eat after you come back from dinner. I thought you would just throw the bag out so I hid in it. But then you did and... you can't just throw me out there!"
Bach swallowed the last forkful of eggs, and then drank down half the glass of juice. He looked at her, bored, and stood up from the table, walking his dish to the sink to wash it.
"Please," Anna called out, now facing the back of the muscular wolf. "You didn't devour me, you washed me, you fed me... You're not a monster, like most giants. You're not cruel, one of those horrid brutes who'll pull our arms off just to see us squirm on the floor before they stomp our head. I've watched you. I've seen you with the bear, how disgusted you are every time he brings a box of micros over and eats them while you watch the game. You're not one of them... please, don't... I'll die if I'm thrown out there."
Bach looked over his shoulder, glaring at the white vixen, who backed away, tail tucked. He sighed. "You don't steal food, you got that? I don't want your little paws walking over the food that I'm going to be eaten. If you want something, let me know. You wash yourself daily. I don't want to so much as smell you. And if Misha comes over, you hide in the wall. I don't care if you're hungry or have to piss; you cross your legs and keep your belly from rumbling. You got that?"
Anna nodded enthusiastically, and when the paw came down, she climbed onto it without hesitation. Bach took the glass of juice with his other hand, and gulped whatever remained down, before dropping the glass off in the sink. He walked to the living room and shut off the television, and then headed into bedroom. Setting Anna down on the bed, he cleared his side table (by tipping it onto its side and allowing everything that rested on it to tumble to the floor.) He then took a second pillow off the bed and set it on the table, before plopping Anna upon it. "You can sleep there?" he asked.
Anna stared up at him, blue eyes wide, and mouth agape.
"Yes or no?" he asked.
"That... I... I can... sleep in the wall. I've been living in... I've been living in the walls for... uhm... a long time and... I don't want to be a bur-" Words were cut short as she found herself plummeting through the air, and was suddenly resting on a soft, fluffy surface of the pillow. By the heavens, she sank into the squishy fluff and it fully embraced her, and she could have fallen into a deep, deep sleep right there. Yesterday, she had been living in a tiny hole, trying to make due with a stretch of newspaper as her blanket, and a wad of cotton as her pillow. Tears swelled in her eyes, and she struggled to gulp down a whimper that longed to slip out of her throat.
Bach unbuttoned his pants, and slipped them to his ankles. He stepped out of them, and walked to the bed, pulling the sheets back. He was just sitting down when he heard several sobs from the pillow. He looked to the vixen, who met his eyes. She burst out with more scream of swelling terror, now holding her head, shaking and shivering and squealing as if a nail had been driven through her foot.
"You're going to eat me!" she finally screamed.
Bach leaned closer, although this time kept a respectful distance from her.
"Just do it. Just do it quick, please. Don't just toy with me. Just do it and get it done and kill me, please! Stop this torture."
"Anna," Bach said softly. "I'm not going eat you. I'm not going to kill you, alright?"
Anna gasped several times, and once more looked up at him. "Why?! That's what you giants do, isn't it? You crush us and munch us up and that's all you ever do! You call us parasites and vermin and exterminate us but we have real lives and we have real feelings but why would you care?! I don't want to be toyed with like this. Just kill me and get it over with. Please, if you ever do one nice thing for me, let it be that."
Her voice was starting to irritate him. He rubbed his eyes, and allowed her to wail and scream and sob until she was finally empty, in which time he scooped her up. She was curled into a tight albino ball, a stark contrast against his black pad and the black hand. "Anna," he said again. "Look, I'm not going to hurt you, alright? But I need you to stop screaming like that. Can you do that for me?"
Anna sniffled, and looked up. "Why aren't you going to eat me?"
"I don't eat micros, especially if they're alive. I find it a little odd when my dinner is begging for its life."
Anna swallowed a sob, and pulled her legs close to her chest. "Why are you... why didn't you throw me out? Or flush me down the toilet? Or just..."
"Are you complaining?"
"No, no... I just..." She thought for a moment. "Thank you... thank you so... You feed me and you give me a place to sleep and... I just... I don't understand, why?"
A black claw ascended and very gently, he used the back of his nail to stroke over Anna's face. She moved her head with it, making an almost feline purr. "Maybe, someday, when I'm a tiny living in a world of giants, one of the giants will smile down on me."
He rolled onto his side, and moved to place Anna back on the pillow, but she screamed out, "No!" Confused, he brought her back to his face. "I-" she swallowed. "Can... can I sleep... here? I mean... do you... uhm, do you move around when you sleep, at all?"
Bach rolled his eyes, but turned his hand to the side. The little white vixen clawed and scratched at the pad, holding tight, until the hand was tipped completely horizontal, and she began to fall. She fell through the air; finally landing with a muffled plop upon the warm belly fur that covered Bach's toned abdominals. "If you get squished, the blood isn't on my paws. Now go to sleep."
Anna braced herself as Bach shifted and got comfy. She dug her claws into her fur, at first frightened she might hurt her, but honestly, what was she thinking? At last, he settled down, and yawned. His belly filled and rose, and then deflated and came to rest mostly flat. It still lifted and fell as he breathed, though less so, especially as he drifted into a deeper sleep. Anna sat there, a speck of white against the vast darkness, listening to the gurgles and churns of the eggs as they dissolved into nothingness. She shifted slowly, rolling, and came to rest with her full body against his abs, feeling every strong muscle of his core. She rested her cheek down, listening, and then turned her muzzle to him and nuzzled into the fur. Bach smelled delightful. He was warm and manly, a scent she had caught many times, having "shared" his apartment for as long as she could remember, and she would be lying if she had not come to love it.
"Thank you," she finally said. She stood, and began to walk along his chest, arms out at her side to keep her from falling as his chest lifted and fell with his rhythmic breaths. His fur was so dark, and the room's only illumination came from the streetlights outside; their glow bleeding through the cracks of the blinds. Once or twice she slipped on a ridge in his abdomen or tripped on one of the erect nipples. Every time that happened, she froze, waiting, listening to his breaths and terrified she had roused him from his slumber. But his breathing never hastened. He seemed to be deep in a REM cycle, and so she continued until she was just under his chin, at his neck.
"Thank you," she said again, and walking forward, she wrapped her arms around his chin to hug him. "You've never seen me. You never even knew I existed until today, but I've been watching you... forever. Whenever you found a micro, you put him in a jar and brought him outside, instead just popping him like all the other giants do. And, when you found me... I was just so hungry. You don't know what it's like, to be hungry and cold and terrified, every moment of every day. What that does to you... But you... I don't know why you did this, why you took pity on me and have shown such kindness, but thank you." She pressed her lips forward, very gently kissing at his fur, licking and nuzzling before pulling back. She lowered to her knees, and then her rump, and then curled into a tight white ball, listening to the soft breathing of the wolf's nostrils, now so close. Her tail slipped between her legs, and then against her chest. She hugged it, resting her head on the fluffy tip, and closed her eyes to sleep.
Never before had her rest been so deep. Bach's fur was warm and soft and smelled absolutely delightful to her nose. His rhythmic breathing was a lullaby overhead that eased her of the fears and tensions that had plagued every moment of her life. She sobbed quite a bit, overwhelmed by all that had happened. She was confused and frightened that this was all a dream and she would wake up, tucked under the stretch of newspaper that did nothing to ward off the cold. Or that she was dead, and this was all some sort of preliminary Hell. What if some cruel devil was letting her live a life of warmth and love, and this would all be stolen away from her at any moment? She sobbed, deciding that must be the truth, but at least she was empty of her tears when Bach shifted and began to stir.
He must not have remembered about his new pet, because groggily, he sat up, causing the poor white vixen to tumble and roll down his chest, eventually landing between his legs. Horror swept through her, as on either side were his thighs, easily three times her height, and if he shifted to roll out of bed, she may well be crushed beneath him without notice. A howl suddenly escaped her, purely out of instinct, but Bach's ears twitched and he looked down. Upon noticing the white female, his face contorted into a look of apology, and he spread his legs apart. "Sorry, sorry," he said. He scooted back slowly, and then leaned down, staring at her. "Did you sleep well?"
"I... I..."
Bach rolled his eyes. "I can make you a little cage if this is going to become a permanent thing. I figure even if I let you go outside, you'll find a way back in. I'd rather know where you are than have you rummaging through my protein chips with your dirty paws."
"No," she said. "I actually... I slept very good...until I didn't." She looked down, soon toying with her tail nervously. "Thank you so much. I don't think I've ever slept that well, when I was sleeping."
Bach yawned again. This time, he straightened his back and lifted his hands over his head, sucking in a deep breath and tightening his impressive middle. Anna stared at the sight, watching as the fur and skin tensed, revealing the stunning definition of the ebony form before her. Her eyes slid slowly down his chest, over his stomach and every ridge of his abs, and finally she came to stare directly ahead of her at his crotch. How she hadn't noticed before now, she would never know, but thick and hard between his legs was Bach's impressive wolfhood. His white briefs were fitting rather tight, and a little soggy from dribbles of pre that must have escaped during the night. It was subtle, but now that Anna's nose was focused, she could smell the aroma of distinctly lupine musk. Anna's white cheeks blushed pink. On more than one night, hidden in the shadows, she had watched as Bach's great hand took hold of his girth. What a show it had been, watching the ebony shaft, twice her size, as it was rubbed. She listened to every growl and grunt that escaped his lips, every whimper and snarl as he brought himself up, slow and gentle...
Bach leaned back, and rested his head on the backboard. He yawned again, and scratched an itch on his ribs, using his nails to get under his thick fur. He felt a very gently pressure on his inner thigh, and then the weight moved to his scrotum, still housed in his briefs. He looked down, and much to his surprise, saw Anna standing before him: arms stretched out, little nails pressing into the thick fabric of the underwear. Bach was going to growl or snarl, but the thought of the little micro down there was actually rather amusing. He leaned back again, and closed his eyes, as if he had not noticed what she was up to. Indeed, when Anna caught herself and nervously looked to the looming giant, she assumed he had drifted back into sleep.
Anna spread her arms, and hugged up to the white fabric, letting it rest against her cheek. Bach's scrotum was far too large for her to hug properly, but she used all her weight to press into it, squeezing it, and then looked again to the wolf. All she saw was the underside of his jaw line, and heavier breathing was now escaping his nose.
She felt oddly insulted she could not make him feel anything. Every morning he woke up and relieved the sleep's arousal. Every morning he had the same routine, and some part of her wanted to help him this time, but he seemed to have forgotten she even existed.
Anna looked to her hand, and extended her strong, sharp claws. She placed her claws against the white fabric, and with all her strength, drew her hand down. The strength of her claws actually surprised her, as she managed to cut through the fabric with only a bit of effort. Gasping, she looked up to Bach, heart thumping, but still he hadn't noticed her. She cut the fabric slowly, and then gripped it with her paws, and started to pull it apart.
A wave of musk suddenly washed over her, almost knocking her to her tail. She gasped, but quickly covered her mouth, not wanting to make a sound. Still, the aroma that washed out of the tight briefs was overwhelming. Like a damn breaking, the scents were no longer obstructed, and now washed over her in a flood. She felt warm, and her blush only grew more red as she approached the hole, and continued tearing it, making it larger and larger. This was insane, she knew: a lifetime hiding in the shadows and now look at her! But he had shown her kindness and love, and if this was not a dream, she wanted to return the favor.
She lifted a foot, and slipped it inside the torn briefs. Taking one last breath of (relatively) fresh air, she suddenly pressed her full weight against his scrotum, heart racing, mind doing somersaults at the thought of what might come next. Her first breath, inside his underwear, was like sucking down a flame. Her nose tingled, and her lungs burned, and between her legs she felt an intense burning. She could no longer look up to check Bach's expressions, but she didn't care. She just... she hoped perhaps he would enjoy this, perhaps he might find pleasure in her miniscule tongue lapping at his sack, or her claws poking into his fur. She hoped, at least, he would know she was trying.
Bach had noticed when she slipped into his underwear. Now that she was hidden, he figured he could look down, holding back a chuckle at the cute lump in the white, showing her movements as she scooted about. She did feel nice. She was working hard; licking and nuzzling, kissing and biting at the thick fur, or using her paws and claws on him to rub in dainty circles. He felt her scramble, and attempt to climb, and watched as the lump moved towards the top of his briefs. His erection was already tenting his underwear, from how tight they fit and how thick he had grown. He started to growl and wiggle as the soft fur of her body rubbed against his shaft, and looking closely, he soon spotted her head popping out of the elastic waistband of his pants. He watched, intently now, as she wrapped her arms around his glans, hugging them tightly, which sent tingling bliss through him. He gripped the bed sheets, holding them tight, as Anna tilted her head down and gave his head a very soft lick.
Bach tensed suddenly, a low growl escaping his throat. Anna scooted closer to the penis, and with what slack she had inside the tight briefs, she wrapped her legs around his girth too. His pulse could be felt in her thighs, but most important, the warmth between her legs that was now resting against the tight skin. It felt amazing, the rough skin against his slit, and she attempted to wiggle and grind.
Bach lifted off the bed a moment, and tugged his underwear down past his thighs. No longer restricted, his erection rose up like an obelisk of living stone. Anna continued to hold tight to it, until she felt Bach's hand come behind her. The weight was intense on her back, pressing her into the flesh until she was forced to scream out, and just like that, the pressure was removed. Panting, gasping large breathes of the heavy musk that engulfed her, she looked to Bach.
"I won't hurt you," he said. "I promise. And if I do, let me know. But will you please help me?"
Anna nodded without hesitation, and turned her muzzle back to the glans. To a distant observer, one might pass Bach's erection off as simply black, but this close to the large shaft; it was actually a very fine shade of purple. The veins that so efficiently pumped precious blood into the quickly engorging shaft were even darker, but not black, and this close, Anna could so easily trace every pathway. Not a single detail was lost to her eyes or tongue. She wanted to understand every inch of the impressive pride. The smell was something she could not put into words. If Bach had bathed, and the scent of his musk had been even slightly dampened, how horrid that would be. She could not imagine the rich odor as satisfying if it was any less than smothering.
At first, Bach only intervened by putting pressure upon her back. The warmth of her fur against his aching erection sated whatever lust was coursing through his veins, and was pleasant for her in a way she could not describe. With what slack she had, Anna wiggled her hips, grinding her aching lips against the girth, hoping to find a rough patch of skin that might sate her own desires. Her desperation was eased somewhat when Bach started to move her up and down slowly, applying pressure on and off. Sometimes the pressure grew too great, but she did not say anything, gritting her teeth and enduring, and eventually it eased and the blissful rub resumed. Dribbles of wetness oozed out of the lips between her legs, and rolling drops emerged from the very tip of the glans and down the long, deep purple shaft. One actually dropped onto her head, drenching her in musky odor.
She felt oddly guilty, however. By the growls and heavy snarls from Bach above her, she knew that the great wolf was enjoying himself, but was he enjoying it much more than if he simply used his hand? For the kindness he had shown her, for the food in her belly and the warmth in her bones, she wanted to give him something, and slowly reached her paws up to his glans. When his hand rubbed her up the length, she hooked her nails into his flesh, digging deep. When his hand pulled her down, her claws dragged through the heavy skin, earning a long snarl from the great wolf. When she was brought back up, again she lifted her claws, and dug them right into his slit. Bach howled so loud, her ears almost popped. She only dug her claws in deeper, poking little needle sized holes in the sensitive flesh, lighting all the nerves inside on fire. A splash of heavy white gushed out and wetted her hands, but she kept her hold, digging deeper, assuring she would not lose her hold. She wanted to do this. She wanted to give him something, anything, even if it killed her.
Bach's hand fell away and she was left to dangle. Anna wrapped her legs around the girth, and attempted to shimmy up. It was far from easy. Her claws inside his slit seemed to be doing quite a good job, as now there was a steady stream of glistening white oozing out, wetting it and making her ascent so hard. But she refused to give up. She refused to deny him this. She locked her legs around the girth and pulled herself, until at last she was level with the slit, only to fall again.
Bach regained his composure enough to place a finger beneath her tail, and lift her until she could wrap her arms around the glans and hug them. So much cream was dribbling out, her body was quickly soaked. Hugging the glans, she took a deep breath, and then stuffed her face into the slit, her muzzle actually sinking well past the fleshy lips.
Once again, Bach jerked himself off, squeezing his erection suddenly. A massive glob of cream gushed out of it, splashing across Anna's face. She lifted her nose quickly, coughing, but soon had plunged her snout into the slit and began to lick feverishly, working her tongue as far as she could go, which was not especially deep all things considered. But Bach was still jerking and howling, gripping the bed sheet tight with his free hand as the tiny vixen pleasured him. He eased his hand off his girth. If he released his tight hold all at once, all the pressure that had built within his scrotum would explode out, and probably knock Anna's head off her shoulders. Instead, he assured only a steady stream of white was released, which Anna drank down as if it was a fine wine.
Bach had never felt such bliss surging through him. It was not the size of her tongue, or even the actions that she performed, but that Anna was so genuine in the affection she offered. Somehow, Bach could feel it. She was giving him her absolute all, working as hard as her little micro heart would allow. He stared at her, as she dunked her muzzle down, only coming up to breathe at the last moment possible.
He was frightened when he felt his aching balls contract. His seed was building within his scrotum and threatened to explode out of his tip. Anna's head was buried deep within his slit, licking and nuzzling and drinking down the warmth that bubbled up. Bach wrapped his fingers tight around the shaft, cutting off the flow of blood and seed. There was still white housed within the upper half of his penis, and Anna was happily lapping every last drop. When she was done, she looked to him, her blue eyes twinkling. She knew he was ready, and wrapped her arms around the penis, hugging it tight. He was afraid for her, but his scrotum felt like it would explode in another moment, and he was forced to release while humping into the air. A glob of white exploded out of the slit, arcing high, and then came crashing down upon Bach's belly. He fell to the bed, only to hump once more, and another splash shot out of him, this time arcing high and splashing down upon his lips. Spurt after spurt shot out of him, gushed out of him in mad blasts. He tore at the bed sheets, whining and groaning as splashes erupted like a volcanoes' rupture, and at last he plopped to the bed, head down, and tongue out.
It felt like an eternity until his muscles unlocked. The first thing he did was look to his flaccid cock, terrified that he would notice a spot crimson mixed with the gooey, white coating. But he saw nothing red, and looked at each blob that soaked his body, until at last the one on his belly, the first blob he had released, started to shift and stir. Bach held his breath, as the blob bubbled up, and it was only when a pair of blue eyes emerged from the whiteness that he gave a sigh of relief. He plucked Anna up carefully and deposited in his other (slightly less damp) hand. He walked into the bathroom and turned the water on a low pressure, a lukewarm setting, allowed her to wash under the stream. The sticky seed that clung so tightly to her fur washed away, disappearing down the drain. She lifted her head and exposed her chest, allowing the water to run down her body.
She was set down on a towel and permitted to dry, as Bach used another towel to clean his fur of his climax. Standing before the sink, he washed damp hands, and when they were clean of the arousing odor, he offered his paw to Anna. She was oddly hesitant to climb on, considering all they had just done, but eventually she did. She sat upon the center pad, Indian style, tail over her lap and she stroked and toyed with it playfully. She was brought to Bach's lips, and given a very gentle kiss over her whole body. She giggled as he held it, applying a small amount of pressure before pulling back, and looking to her with his sharp, amber eyes.
"...You're not going to eat me now, right?" she asked.
"No, Anna, I'm not going to eat you. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise." He kissed her again. This time, she lifted to her knees, and hugged him under the lips, returning the kiss of affection with her miniscule lips upon his massive ones. He felt a little silly about all this, making love to a tiny like this, but that part was small, and already fading. She was sweet and kind, and he hoped she felt the same about him. And since he was already in the bathroom, he figured he would draw himself a bath for them both, so they could both clean up proper.