FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Miranda hadn't really had any of this in mind when she made a profile on that dating app. It was what a forty three year old woman did after she'd been divorced three years and had one last kid in high school. No more "but I need to focus on the children" or "the divorce really hasn't stopped weighing on me" excuses. Kate had handed her the phone with the app open and said "if you don't make a profile Mom, I'm making one for you."

Which had been embarrassing as hell, but fortunately not in public.

Setup had been easy, and she'd asked Kate for advice. Mothers weren't supposed to ask their youngest daughter how to take pictures for a dating site, but she wasn't inclined to look like a fool for the entire internet to see, so she'd had to get help somewhere. A few lessons in selfie etiquette later and she had a half dozen reasonably flattering pictures. She had okay material to work with anyway, though she'd have preferred a tighter middle. Third kid post-pregnancy pudge was hard to work off, even if you'd had a decade and a half to do so. Pasta was just too good.

Still, there was apparently a recent trend toward the 'soft fox mom' type on dating sites, and she definitely fit that profile. She'd had a steady stream of interested messages for several months now. None of them had gone very far, she'd had a few first dates, even a second date, but there hadn't been any spark, any chemistry. About half had misinterpreted her profile as being some sort of mommy-domme looking for a Little to play with. Definitely not the case.

But here she was on another date. Waiting for another date, anyway. The gentleman's profile had been sparse, but his messages had been clear, concise, calm. Not lazy but unhurried, lacking in pressure. Something curious. Not detached but relaxed about it, maybe?

That had persisted through the last few weeks. He'd been pleasant, calm, friendly. Between girlfriends, he'd said, a little rusty after a long relationship had ended when he'd popped the big question. That had been a year or so ago, he'd explained on their second chat. Coffee, then a performance in the park, quite a bit of back and forth chatter on the dating app.

Still, she'd half expected to be stood up, when he told her there was a reservation for them at Kana Karna. Not exclusive or anything, but reservations were not spur of the moment, there was a waiting list.

The maitre'd had seated her immediately, brought wine when she'd asked, and that had been fifteen minutes ago. She was starting to wonder if she'd been stood up when her phone chirped from her purse.

[I'm sorry, Miranda, I'm running behind. Delays at the airport. I'm still about twenty minutes out from joining you.]

[I'm just glad you're still coming! I feel silly all dressed up and alone at a booth for two drinking wine.]

[If you'd rather call it off instead of wait, I can settle your bill from here. My treat.]

[No, that's alright. I make no promises about sobriety by the time you get here, they've got a wonderful moscato.]

[Ha! That they do.]

There was silence for a good five minutes, then another sudden message.

[Take off your panties.]

What. The. Hell.

Who did he think he-

Why on earth would she-

Why was he requesting that? Her indignation skittered to a stop there. He wasn't here. He wouldn't be for fifteen minutes. So why? And why now? She did a quick check. No one watching her, and the booth was pretty private, no real angle to see what might be going on under the table.

Hell, unless the waiter happened to stop by at exactly the wrong time, no one would know at all, unless she told them.

Or showed them.

Was that the next move? Take them off, then when he sits down, he asks to see? That was... actually kind of hot, in the abstract. A very covert bit of naughtiness that could be shared with just one person, even if the whole restaurant was, in a very roundabout way, complicit in the act.

He hadn't sent another message since, while she'd been spinning from indignation to consideration, and if he'd been accurate about the timing, he was only four minutes out. Restroom? Just as she glanced that way, she saw the door swing shut. No, if she was going to do it, she'd have to do it right here, and quickly.

Do it? Or don't? She dithered another ninety seconds before deciding. Shift her weight a little, carefully shimmy them off one hip, shift again, careful slide. How to get them all the way off without being found out? She was still trying to sort that out when Keith sat down across from her. He was plain, bland, a tallish baseline human with black hair streaked gray, a neatly trimmed beard, and a big grin.

Was he going to ask?

"Hi Miranda! It's good to see you again! Sorry for the delay."

"Uh? N-no problem, the wine's good and like I said I don't have any more pressing business to attend to. If I'm home before ten my daughter said she'd disown me." Had he actually sent the message? He hadn't so much as glanced down since he'd joined her, but she couldn't really look at her phone without being rude.

"Oh? Good kid, helping her mom out, then. Needed a push, did you?"

"More than one. All of those profile pics had her help."

"I hope not the one you messaged me privately?"

"Absolutely not." She'd been feeling adventurous and sent him a picture from knee to hip, bare-assed but angled and with her tail curled enough to obscure all of the really good bits. He'd still given her rave reviews, so to speak. And a pretty nice response. She now knew he preferred boxer-briefs, at least, and had a hell of a six pack. Despite looking like some sort of forgettable bank teller or middle manager, he was definitely something else.

"I had a few hunches while I was in the cab over here." Was his request- no, order, it was not asked but instructed- was his order a hunch? "I'm guessing you'd like the sashimi plate, which I happen to know is currently still swimming in the tank under us. It doesn't get fresher without catching it yourself. If we get far enough or weekend trips or vacations, we can try for fresher fish, though I'm not particularly good at that.

He still hadn't even looked down, and she was sitting there with her panties at her knees not at all sure there was a reason for that. Fixated, almost, on that. "That does sound pretty good."

"They recommend the moscato to go with it, so I figured it would suit your palate pretty well. Do you mind if we share a large plate? I'll have sake with mine, something to be said for the original pairings."

Not an order, a request. She nodded. "Sharing a plate makes sense. I'm not worried about cooties or anything." Was it time to be bold? She wasn't particularly good at bold, it always felt awkward and forced. But maybe that was what he had hoped to spur by his four word push. "Here, why don't you sit next to me so we can share a little easier?"

She scooted a tiny bit down the bench, and patted the empty spot beside her. He wouldn't see anything i he did, her skirt was long enough to hide the evidence, but maybe the invitation would prompt him to ask whether she'd obeyed him.

Obeyed. Odd word, it seemed to include the idea that he had the right to give instruction like that, and that she was obligated to, well, to obey him. There certainly wasn't any of that in their relationship.

Or was there? Her current half-commando state argued that there was. It didn't feel wrong, exactly, just anxious and uncertain. She wished he'd mention it. Look, something, acknowledge that she had been obedient.

Why did that matter? Why did she want that acknowledgement? And more importantly, was he aware of that want? He ought to be, he had instigated this! Or had he? Had she daydreamed that last message? Was she sitting here feeling the breeze for no reason?

The waiter came by, took their orders, and refreshed her wine glass. Keith came around the table and sat down next to her. Casual contact, his hip against hers. Just as casual, and without conscious direction, her tail swayed, wagged, and curled around behind him. She was left following along. Okay, some part of her liked him, clearly, even if the conscious bits were unsure.

He kept up the conversation, mostly. Directed it, left her openings to respond and take the lead. She faltered on those opportunities, though. Distracted and off balance. She kept trying to find an opening to pull her underwear back up without making it obvious that she was doing that, but the food had come before she figured out a way to handle that particular problem.

"Ah, this looks good!" He was enthusiastic, grinning, then nudged her gently with his elbow. "You look tense. Am I making you uncomfortable? Should I move back across the table?"

He was picking up on something, but didn't know what? So he hadn't sent the message. But who had, then? There wasn't really a way to check that wasn't going to be considered rude, and aside from her issues in the underwear department she was having a pretty great time.

"No, no, just, uh..." Fuck it. Fuck all of it, all the way. She leaned a little closer and dropped her voice. "I had an idea that in hindsight might have been terrible, but I got stuck halfway and have been stressing it all night."

He furrowed his brow, tilted his head, and paused "I'm not sure I follow, but if I'm not the source of the problem, that's a little reassuring."

"Well, I wouldn't say you're not contributing." Fuck it. "Can I take your hand and show you the problem?"

Another moment of confusion. "Sure, I guess. I doubt you have a bear trap in your purse. Go ahead."

One hand took his, guided it down between her legs. She lifted the hem of her dress with the other, then put his hand on her knee, let him feel the panties there instead of where they ought to be.

He took a moment to process it all, then grinned at her. "And here I thought you were a pure and innocent lady, not the naughty vixen sort. I'm shocked, shocked I tell you." His grin said a lot, and the gentle sarcasm in his voice as well. "So my charming dinner date decided to be a bit daring at the last minute, but got interrupted? I suppose the only gentlemanly thing to do would be to excuse myself for, oh, five minutes and let you either pull them up or take them off. But if you're willing to be a little bit more daring, perhaps you'd finish the job while I sit here and feed you dinner? I won't look or touch without your say-so, of course, but sharing a naughty secret is even better than keeping it to yourself, isn't it?"

Tempting. That was a problem. Temptation was all well and good, but a tempting charmer had given her three kids and a few decades of careful lies while he did the same with another woman. Still, this wasn't anywhere near as serious as a ring, so... why not?

"Okay, but hands above the table, buster, and I want the good ones." True to his word, and his laugh, his hands handled chopsticks while hers handled the awkward task of getting her panties off her ankles and into her hand. Now what? Into her purse was the logical next step, but what if she wanted to be daring and tempting herself?

There wasn't anything to lose, so instead, she felt around for his pocket, and stuffed them in there. That got raised brows and a look of surprise.

"Bolder and bolder, aren't you the charmer? I can't look without feeling creepy as heck, but I do believe you've just given me something to remember you by, haven't you?"

She leaned over and nosed his cheek, gave it a brief little touch of tongue as a kiss. "I'm feeling bolder than ever. Consider it more of a promise of things to come. Like I said, I'm not due home until very late, so how did you think I planned to spend those extra hours?"

She hadn't planned any of this, and was sure he'd be able to tell that, but it didn't really matter. Her plan for the date not leading anywhere had been a cup of coffee and a pint of cherry bomb ice cream. She hadn't expected it to lead much further than dinner and maybe dessert. It looked like things were going much better, indeed, though she was still plagued by the worry about who had sent the message, since he clearly hadn't.

"You keep calling me naughty, but I think you're a word short. What do you think should come after that, hm? Careful in choosing, what you pick might say a lot about you."

He fed her another bit of tuna and rice. "Naughty woman is terribly generic and bland. Naughty fox is about the same, and also a bit of a tautology, if the reputations are to be believed. Vixen is just putting those two together and narrowing the field a bit. Still not particularly, I don't know. Complete? Suitable? We'll go with suitable."

He took a bite and mulled the options over while he chewed. "Let's see how this works out. May I put my hand in a somewhat intimate place? Some reactions are best interpreted through touch." She balked a moment, then nodded, and he settled his hand low on her stomach. Nothing that would get him slapped, but low enough to be titillating. "So what if I want to call you a naughty slut?"

Whoa.

"Oh! I felt that," he continued. "That sure felt like you enjoyed it. Like it excited you."

"That's true. I wasn't sure where you were going to go but ooh, I liked it when you called me that."

"Well then, my beautiful naughty slut, why don't we finish up dinner and then we can go somewhere to discuss how those words ought to apply between us?"

"No argument here. Is it okay to check my phone and tell my daughter not to expect me home?"

"Sure, go ahead, I'll settle the bill."

She pulled the phone from her purse, opened the messenger to send a quick note, then slid to a halt.

[Take off your panties.]

[Oh shit, Mom that wasn't for you.]

[Fuck, why did I have to fat-finger Mom instead of Mona tonight.]

[Yeah, I sent that to my mom instead of you, super mortified.]

[I'm so sorry, holy shit, I'm embarrassed as hell.]

Miranda couldn't keep from giggling. Well, that explained things.

[It's alright, Mona's a nice girl, but try to keep your sexting between you two, okay?]

[Sure thing, Mom.]

[Also, don't stay up too late, you have school in the morning. I'll see you after school.]

[Alright! Go Mom Go! Have fun!]

Keith gave her a grin with a bit of head tilt, curious. "I'll probably explain later, but right now you have something of mine and I wonder how a particularly naughty slut might go about getting her dignity back from you?"

He put one hand over the offending pocket, then frowned. "Quick check. How buzzed are you?"

"Not too drunk to legally consent, if that's what you're asking."

"Less worried about the legal part than the not-regretting-this-in-the-morning part."

"Hell with that, let's make sure we're both too fucked to regret anything. On that note, your place or a one-nighter?"

"One-nighter, definitely. I didn't anticipate things going this far, my place is a bit of a mess right now. You set one up and I'll get us a ride there." Each of them focused on their phones for a moment or two. "Okay, car's waiting out front. Got somewhere for it to go?"

"Yes, though I had to go a bit wider than I thought. Must be some sort of event, there weren't a lot of open ones."

One-nighters were pretty common in most major cities. They were sort of like hotels, but built on the premise that, while everyone had at least a small apartment of their own, sometimes they would need extra space for a night. Sometimes that was for a hookup, but more often it was for things like a birthday party, club meeting, or private dinner for two. Most dorm towers had at least a few dozen, and the arcologies had hundreds. Lots of styles, lots of furnishings and accessories.

"Alright. Where are we going?" The waiting car was a luxury autonomous, with seating for six, three on each side, and a decent amount of legroom.

"Bifrost tower. Room, uh... god, arcology addresses always give me a headache. Here, sending you the string." She tapped a few buttons to send him the alphanumeric code that was supposed to tell them where in the tower they were headed, then slipped her phone into her purse again. The car slipped out into the flow of traffic, leaving them alone on the inside of scramble glass. They could see out, but the inside of the car was impossible to see from the outside. She never would have had the guts to go on her knees in front of him if the outside world could see.

"It looks like we're halfway up spire C, on a crossbar. Nice view from there- oh, hello there." He slid to a stop looking down at her, with a fox nose between his legs. "There's a nice view from here, too."

"You're not going to complain if I, uh... nose around a little, are you?" She didn't exactly wait for an answer. The tent being pitched said a lot of yes.

"Knock yourself out. We only have about twenty minutes though."

Not long enough to really give him a workout, but enough to get familiar. Slacks were thin and lightweight, easy to feel through, but she didn't want to drool on them or anything. Leaving a damp spot would definitely not send the right messages. So one hand on his chest to push him against the seat, one hand undoing his belt, pulling his zipper, tugging the briefs out of the way. "Oh, very nice. Mm, this looks like fun."

"Um. Thanks, I'm kind of attached to it, myself."

She gave his dick a long, slow lick. Fox tongues were well suited to the job, broad, long, nimble. The half-caught breath and extra throb were encouraging. Nothing fancy, just lots of slow, steady bobbing of her head. He got the picture after a few minutes, put one hand between her ears and just held it there. He didn't pull or push, she was definitely in charge, but it was a piece of balance and connection. He couldn't exactly reciprocate the attention she was giving at the moment, but he could connect and encourage.

She was pretty sure he was about to blow when the car dipped underground and began to slow. She grinned up at him and licked her chops again. "Looks like we took too long. Better hurry up to our room so I can finish the job." That was a look of frustration that melted into a grin as he got his pants closed over his erection. Enough to hide it, anyway.

"Fine, but I don't give you good odds of making it five feet past the door before we're back at it." He held the door for her, led to the elevator, and Miranda sighed when three others got on with them. Sex in the elevator hadn't really been probable, but she would have been happier making sure he stayed achingly hard the whole way up.

Bifrost tower was a triple helix just over a mile tall, with thick connection bars every few hundred feet on each pair. The elevator ride took ten minutes or so, then let them out high enough to see the curve of the ocean, if it hadn't been dark outside already. Their room was in one of the cross bars, on the bottom curve. Glass floor in the lounge area, glass on the exterior wall, and-

"I didn't realize you were so kinky. Not that I'm complaining, mind you. Just wasn't expecting to need safewords on our first real date."

"I definitely did not plan this." Her surprise ought to have been clear. "I don't even know what most of this stuff even is!"

[Greetings, honored guests! The disembodied voice you're hearing now is intended to help guide guests who may be unfamiliar with the purpose and proper use of the equipment in this room, so that all participants may have a wonderful time, whatever that means to them. Would you like verbal assistance?]

Miranda and Keith exchanged a look, then shrugged, and the fox took another look at unfamiliar decor. "Can we just, uh... exchange for a room that isn't quite so thematic?"

[You are certainly able to request a change. There are no available bookings in Bifrost at the moment, but I can attempt to interface with other nearby booking agents, but at this time no rooms are available within the immediate area due to multiple overlapping event bookings.]

Another exchanged glance, before Keith shrugged. "Worst case, we ignore the fancy stuff and do what we were going to do anyway, right?"

"I guess so. Uh... assistant, we'll keep the room as is."

[Noted. If you require any assistance, additional materials, or instruction, you only need to ask. And my handle is Gina.]

A full synthetic intelligence, then, not actual AI but nearly indistinguishable within its area of competence. Miranda leaned against the door frame and took another look around.

There were effectively three rooms, though the divisions were more implied than physical. A bedroom, a bathroom, and a playroom, all with scramble glass views out over the city. The other arcologies rose like unique pillars of light over a sea of smaller buildings and open spaces. The bed was large and looked comfortable, but the frame had obvious accessories for securing a person to it. The bathroom had some similar augmentations. And as for the third room...

Whoever had designed it had been thorough, at least as much as Miranda understood the tools of the trade. Poorly. Oh, she knew what rope was, and could easily identify a paddle hanging with a multitude of other items, but mostly it was just... stuff. Some intimidating, some confusing, but without context and understanding, it was just clutter.

Keith moved past her to the wall of items and touched a few, then laughed. "Wonder if this is your size, naughty fox." A bunch of thin straps and metal bits she didn't understand at first, but eventually came through as some sort of harness and headgear.

"I'm not a sled dog! And I don't feel comfortable having someone else make me do things!"

"I don't think it needs to be about making you do things you don't want to at all. More... making you do the things you were already going to, but with a little extra encouragement."

That was a different spin on things, perhaps. Hell, daring had been the order of the evening, why stop now? "So if I put this thing on, you're going to... what? Use it to "make" me suck you off? Because that's exactly what I was going to be doing if I hadn't booked this instead of a normal one-nighter."

"Something like that. I'm pretty sure that Gina can walk me through getting you all dressed up to be played with. If you're okay with that?"

Was she? Nervousness said no, excitement said yes, and after listening to the wine, Miranda said "fuck it, I might like it. But first you're going to have to help me out of my dress."

Keith perked up instantly. If he'd had a tail, it would be wagging.

It wasn't like her dress or her bra needed help. But it gave him a chance to be handsy, and he hadn't actually done much of that. He was good with his hands, too. Slow. He actually got in and undid her bra before her dress, almost certainly as an excuse to touch her boobs more. She might begrudge what a third kid had done to her waistline, but the lingering effects on her bust had been much less unkind, if just as dramatic. She had a lot to handle, and he was handling well. Good squeezes, kneading, holding while her dress slipped to the floor.

"Oh, did I ever get lucky when you replied. Sweet lady, good taste in books, and the body of a goddess. I must have been very good in a past life or something."

Miranda laughed and shook her head. "Flatterer! Fine, I've gone bare before you, master. You want to put that harness on me now?"

"Master? That's a fun choice. So now what do I call you? Slave isn't right, you're way to saucy for that. Pet? My slutty pet fox?"

The fox laughed, grabbed a crop off the wall rack and lightly tapped him on the shoulder. "What if I want a pet instead? I could see you on your knees, or maybe just giving me back rubs in a nice little pouch thong?"

He grabbed a crop as well, and the next minute or two were all giggles, fencing, and light taps to the hip or shoulder until he missed a shoulder and caught a nipple instead. That stung pretty good, but it also sent a shock of excitement through her. Visible, apparently, because he stopped and tilted his head again, curious.

"Should... I do that again?"

"It hurt!"

"That... wasn't a no. Put your hands behind your neck and I'll try again?"

Miranda paused, fidgeting. It had hurt but... the lingering tingle and sting were pretty nice, really, and it hadn't hurt that much. Hesitantly she put her hands up, laced fingers behind her neck, and took a breath. Then yelped when the crop hit again, the other nipple. It stung! It hurt! But the rush of pleasure after was intense. She half-stepped away, turned, moved her arms to cover her bosom, then looked back at him.

"That stings. And it feels good? I think? I want to try more but I also don't want to? Conflicted desires."

Keith nodded, then put the crop aside. "Gina, are you able to make suggestions based on small data?"

[My accuracy will be limited by the amount and depth of data, but yes.]

"Miranda?"

"He smacked my nipples with the crop thingy. It hurt a lot, but the leftover sensations are pretty pleasant. I don't really want the stingy bit so much, but I like the... tingles, I guess?"

[That sounds like some pretty normal masochism, based on that description. I would suggest over the knee spanking on the butt with an open hand, to further test how that makes you feel.]

Another glance between the two, another shrug from Keith. "We take this as far as you're comfortable. I'm interested, I'm... actually really excited about this whole thing, and I didn't think I would be." He sat on a chair that looked out over the window, and patted his lap. "Wanna try it the computer's way?"

Miranda hesitated. Spanking still, to her, meant pain not fun. She'd assumed so, anyway, it wasn't commonly seen outside of kinky contexts and old media, but old media made it out to be really unpleasant, and kink still contextualized it as punishment. But the residual tingle from her nipples argued she might be wrong.

Hesitant steps, in little rushes and pauses, but she draped herself over his lap anyway. It wasn't exactly uncomfortable, and the hands that started petting and stroking were very welcome, too. The first swat was little more than enthusiastic patting, which prompted a giggle.

[Best results are achieved if you hold your palm open and follow an arc. Don't be afraid to put force into it, it is very difficult to harm anyone in this position with a bare hand. I will project a path for your hand.]

Miranda couldn't see the path, of course, but she certainly felt the effect. Keith's hand came up against her cheek, considerably more force, a little sting, and a lot of heat that followed. Heat that felt like it rushed up her spine, colored her ears, then ran right back down and twisted a faint coil of that same heat much lower.

"Oh," she exclaimed! "Do... do that again?"

"As you wish, my lovely daring slut." And he did, another upward ending smack, another sting, another rush of heat. Another tiny twist of arousal. That was it, she knew that feeling.

"Try harder, please?"

And again, he did. The sting was harder this time, the heat more intense, and the knot of lust twisted harder in her. A few more swats left a linger of sting on her butt, and a powerful rush of desire. "Fuck. Keith, fuck me. Like right now, I'm so wet I'd slide off a chair. Feel it?" He put his hand between her thighs and she heard the chuckle.

"Wow, you really are enjoying this, aren't you?" She moaned as fingers slid inside of her, stroking and pushing and caressing. His thumb stroked and circled her clit. "Gina's projecting a text message for me advising me to tell you to beg for what you want from your master. What do you think about that?" She froze for a moment, tensed, felt his fingers stop inside her. "Oh. Oh, I can feel what you think of that. Why don't you just do that, beg me for what you want."

Miranda squirmed and felt the heat in her ears. She would normally just say "hey, I want you to fuck me" or something like that, but now that the idea of asking for what she wanted had been drawn attention to she was balking. Hell, she'd already asked, but apparently how she'd asked hadn't counted? And even though he hadn't said no, it was implied, and she was dismayed to find that only made things hotter.

"Please? Please fuck me Ke- uh, I mean Master. Please fuck me, Master!" Saying it like that felt really weird, but also powerfully right.

"Ah, my eager, beautiful foxy slut. I think I will, but first, Gina's suggesting tying you up so you can struggle and fight and feel helpless. And the way you just squeezed on my fingers says yes more readily than waiting for words. Stand up, lovely and put your hands back behind your neck. Don't want you touching yourself yet."

He was right. She might not have been able to actually say yes, but her body was prepared to speak for her, and he was fortunately smart enough to listen. He helped her up to her feet, gently steered her hands up behind her neck, then leaned in to kiss the tip of her nose while his fingers went back between her legs and spent some time. Gentle, not rushing, not exactly trying to get her off, but helping keep her on. Saying without words that there was a lot more of this coming, if she behaved.

Of course, she only had a very vague idea of what "behaving" meant for him, but doing as she was told seemed prudent, and that meant keeping her hands up. She finally saw what he'd been talking about. Gina had highlighted a section of the supply racks, leading Keith to a few coils of rope. Anyone who'd played even the simplest RPG could follow those instructions. Highlighted holograms appeared on her body, showing the man where to take the next rope, how to tie this knot, how to check if it was too tight before moving on.

It was fascinating, really, but she was growing more and more distracted. The very first ropes had been a chest harness of sorts, that put some squeeze on her breasts, and gave Keith an anchor point in the middle of her back for her wrists on a short tether, to keep them out of the way. Then more to the harness, almost like garters around her thighs. Those didn't seem to really do much to restrict her movement, nor did the extra bit that wrapped around the base of her tail.

All of that became clear pretty quickly, when another highlight led them to the bed, showed Miranda where to put her knees, where to lean against the headboard as her thighs got spread wide apart by that harness, another loop around her tail pulled it high, and left her completely, helplessly exposed.

"God, that's a beautiful sight. I could sit here and admire it for hours."

"Oh fuck, please don't? Please? Please fuck me please?" The rope was pretty secure, there wasn't much of anything she could do to help herself out, and that helplessness was, in itself, even more edge on the arousal she'd been feeling winding and twisting up all night.

"I don't know, that's some awfully good begging, but I'm not sure you really mean it." He was coming closer up behind her, on the bed now, and there was a tease in his voice. But before she could protest, he had his hand under her chin, stopping words with curling, scritching fingers. The other hand came around, cupped and squeezed her left breast, lingered there, drifted down. She was too keyed up to feel self conscious about the stubborn pudge that hand had to travel down, the destination was far more important, and when he started to rub and caress her mound, she just moaned.

His arms were bare, he must have taken his clothes off while she was begging, and the stiff length that was pressed to her butt was definitely the same thing she'd been licking on the ride over here. What she'd been hoping he would use on her for the last however long. She really wasn't sure how long spanking her, binding her, teasing her had taken. Just that it had been far longer than she wanted, and she was really feeling the need. Fortunately he didn't keep her waiting much longer.

The hand on her mound slid further down, she felt him shift, guide himself in, and set to satisfying her thirst. "You're much, much naughtier than I expected," he mumbled into her ear, then nipped the edge of it and laughed when she squeaked. "I wasn't expecting more than dinner and maybe kisses and here I am having my way with the most gorgeous vixen I've ever seen in my life."

"Flatterer! Ah! Do that again. Slower, slower, oh right... right like tha-AH!" Good enough, and the fireworks were sharp, powerful, and she was grateful for the extra bracing and support. She couldn't fall over, and he could just keep going if he pleased.

He did, and pushed her through another climax before his own came crashing through. Good to know that wasn't any different, morph or base human. He might not have a knot or anything, but he still had the same cream filling she desired, and the breathless panting while he held her hips and stayed buried inside was a thing she hadn't realized she was missing in her life.

"Ooooh that feels... really good. So do I get to tie you up and spank you now, Master? I'm not sure if that's a side of the game I want to play, but I want to find out. Maybe see if tying you up means I can suck on you until you beg."

"How about I untie you and we get a nap first? You said your daughter would disown you if you came home early, so let's just take our time here."

"Oh, you sound nervous about that. I can't wait."