Chapter 4-Warmth
#4 of Lady Of My Life Renewed
Well, if you've gotten this far intothe story you should know that the next chapter will have the yiffing you've been waiting for. I hope you've like dit so far! Please comment if you do!
~Mianame
Chapter 4-Warmth
Montor had settled into a state of memory as the sun fell upon the clouds, tinting the white, clean masses to an soft orange before changing to a bloody red.
He remembered being the prince of his land, though it was an unofficial title. Many looked to his father, a man even larger than himself who had, by some odd miracle, been born completely white with pink eyes. Various townsfolk saw it as a sign of luck and the man had brought that to the people of his village.
With his help in money management and security, the village soon turned into a small town, before becoming a large town that some dubbed a city. There were very few cities in that time, so that, too, was an unofficial name.
Montor was doing his best to follow in his foot steps, but he was given no special treatment for being the son of the Great Bahmi. Instead he was treated as any other male attempting to help their home; he started as a lowly grunt on the guard. Through the years he progressed, holding back many invaders and soon becoming head of the guard.
It was then that the attack came. Bandits, knowing of the prospering 'city' and its wealth, gathered in a great force to vandalize it. Montor did his best, but in the heat of battle a javelin pierced him in the heart. His death was quick; a searing pain and then darkness.
He didn't remember anything except for awaking in the tube. Then he saw the Chinchilla; the only woman he had ever been attracted to. Sure, he had had his moments with whores of the town, all of them wanting to sleep with the 'prince' and see if he compared, but he had never felt so enticed by a woman, sexually and emotionally.
When he awoke from his reverie, he noticed the sun had set fully and the night sky was in full bloom. Stars speckled the sky, a great number less than Montor remembered, but the moon was bright as ever. The large, white orb drifted dreamily above, though he could only see half due to the obstruction of the pipe.
His eyes shifted to his chinchilla companion. She was in the same position that he had last seen her, arms wrapped around her body with small shoulders shuddering in the harsh winds. Only then did he notice just how cold it was! Being so high in the air with liquid from the tube covering his fur made it quite an uncomfortable sensation. He couldn't imagine being in her wet clothes; it had to be worse.
Montor instinctively began to do as any feline would in his situation; his tongue lashed out immediately, rolling across the long strands of his soaked mane. He had slowly worked the rough tongue down to one of his shoulders before her quiet voice drifted to him, "What are you doing?"
"Cleaning myself, of course," he answered matter-of-factly before returning to his grooming, tackling the other side of his mane and his opposite shoulder. He worked his way down one paw and over his arm before looking to Vanya once more. She still shivered, her arms providing no warmth due to the wet fabric.
"Take your clothes off," he ordered.
"What?!"
A grumbled sigh of annoyance accompanied his words, "You can't stay warm in those wet clothes. You must take them off or risk catching a cold, possibly your death." Her eyes studied his, obviously looking for foul intentions. "Please don't judge me so. I'm only thinking of your continued health."
"...All right. Turn around."
'Oh, how fickle a woman can be!' he thought, but he obeyed her wishes, swiveling about to turn his back in her direction. One ear stayed turned to listen to the sound of clothing slipping from wet fur as his tongue continued down his next arm and paw. When it stopped he question, "May I be permitted to turn now?"
"No."
He paid her no heed. He slipped around again, causing a small squeak from the femme as she swiftly did the same. Her back quickly turned to face him, tail wrapped around her rump to attempt to cover the tight ass he had already fervently felt up. Her arms were obviously wrapped around her legs, for none of her appendages could be seen.
In the moonlight her light gray fur looked brighter than the finest silver he had ever seen. It was hard to keep from staring at her hourglass figure, but the one eye she had trained on him forced him to politely turn his head away.
Montor had completely cleaned himself before he looked up again and saw that the chinchilla wasn't in much better condition. She still shivered madly, head tucked down with ears pinned back to listen to his activities. She would certainly catch her death in that position.
He slowly crawled to all fours, moving closer to her while stretching a paw out to the femme, "Come here."
Her head turned, one eye wide in fright to see that, for the first time in hours, he had moved closer to her. Her body curled into a tighter ball, "What do you want?"
"I want to clean you. We also need the warmth of each other's bodies to stay alive."
"Are you insane? Clean me? Your tongue isn't getting anywhere near my fur," she said with disgust, using her feet to scoot herself to the very edge of the tube.
An irritated growl left the lion's throat as he slowly crawled toward her. She blinked in surprise, beginning to unravel herself to leave their little cave before stopping short. He suspected that she either didn't want to be completely exposed to the wind or the thought of walking around naked atop a roof made her insanely uncomfortable. The second choice seemed more probable.
He soon reached her, a paw slipping around to grasp at her stomach. She let out a squeak of fear an irritation, squirming insanely until his other paw moved underneath her legs. He heaved her up, causing her to tense as she was pressed against his chest.
Montor took the moment to savor her beauty. Her arms were still wrapped around her chest, but this only caused them to bulge even more, adding to their volume. Long, slender legs slid over his arm; one of the most attractive features about her.
That and those bright eyes that stared up at him, wide and apprehensive. How he wished that she would one day trust him, pretending for a moment that they would have more than tonight together.
He hunched in the tunnel and turned, scooting on his knees further in to try and block against the wind. He let his back take the pain of the harsh cold since he had already bathed and dried the fur.
About half way in he stopped, turning her slowly so that she sat again with her back facing him.
"This is for your own good. Now hold still."