Don't Hold Back
Story by HayleytheWolf on SoFurry
There are different kinds of Saturdays; relaxing Saturdays, adventurous Saturdays, and then there’s this: fucking my boyfriend
So here I am, in bed, with my favorite antelope. We’re fully immersed in feeling the moment, sensitive nerve endings sparked and alert, sending pulsing waves of pleasure all throughout my neon-lit orange fur. Surging pulses of red-hot pain and pleasure course all inside me, managing to hit all the right spots in the right way, my tender pussy throbbing with pure exhilaration. My sharp tang of carnivore musk mingles lazily in the air with Mike’s soft herbal prey aroma. My huge perky tits are warm, the pink nipples tense and hard.
After a while, Mike pulls out. “So how’d I do?” he asks, tangy sweat dripping down to his enormous cock. “You fucking did it,” I say, still reliving the tender satisfaction of the previous moment. God, that boy can cum. Good and hard, almost like a predator dick. Just how I like my fucks.
“Ready for another round?” Mike teases, face creased into a lopsided grin. “Eh, not just yet,” I smirk, stroking my still-hard clit. I reach for the discarded bikini I left earlier on the nightstand. Pulling it on, I say, “I really gotta piss, like right now.” Mike nods.
I launch myself off the bed, sprinting to the miniscule bathroom our dorm holds. On the way I see Brooklyn and Jessy, curled up studying. Brooklyn catches sight of me and waves. Waving back, I quickly duck inside the tiny room and squirt. All over the linoleum tiles, because it feels way better. Some droplets of cum come out with it even.
After I’m finished making a mess, I fantasize the next round of sex I’m gonna have with Mike. Rushing back to my bedroom, I quickly tear off the bikini, then hop back into bed beside Mike. I suggest we try the cowgirl position, because I’m craving something new, something rapturous.
I clamber on top, awkwardly colliding with the wall, then position my full, curvy thighs around Mike and thrust my hips upward, thin droplets of cum already beginning to form on the tip of his hard dick, like morning dewdrops on an ivy leaf. I smirk, ”Ready?” Mike replies, grinning, “Always.”
I grab his dick and shove it inside me, actions rough like the burning desire within me. Adrenaline sends out shockwaves, but they’re drowned out by the sheer sexual satisfaction fizzing like tiny fireworks all around my sensitive nerve endings, popping behind my closed eyelids. I can feel all of it, Mike’s hard cock thrusting good and hard, fucking me hard as hell. I moan, an animal sound of pleasure and pain, primitive instincts surfacing, red-hot surges of a powerful hunger for more consuming my mind. All I can think about is this perfect moment, the delightful sensation of Mike’s throbbing, cumming dick shoved inside me, thrusting like it’s all he’s meant to do.
My throbbing pussy screams in pain, but my mind is soaring in primal thoughts of sex. Cum glistens on my pussy lips, and on the bedsheets. Wait. There’s cum everywhere. “Mike,” I scold affectionately.
“Sorry,” he apologizes, looking remorseful.
“Nah, it’s okay, but we better clean up later,” I grin, beckoning him to keep on thrusting, because damn, that’s probably the best thing I’ve ever experienced in my entire fucking life.
Mike pushes his dick further up my pussy, warm brown eyes locked onto my cool teal ones. I thrust my hips more vigorously than before, adjusting to ensure we both hit the right spots. “Fuuuuck yeahhhhh,” I moan, pussy already throbbing like hell now. Searing agony stabs my pussy, but I don’t stop. Instead, I merely keep thrusting, keep pushing, like a feral beast of rage who knows nothing but to fuck and be fucked. Searing pain roars in my body, raw, scraping, unbearable. But still, I stubbornly keep going.
My pussy clenched around him, a slick, hot, desperate embrace that demanded everything he had. Mike’s answering groan was a low, gravelly sound that vibrated through my core as I rode him, my hips a frantic, rolling piston. Every nerve in my body was a live wire, sparking and sizzling under my fur. This. This was the only thing that mattered. The grind of his pelvis against my clit, the brutal, perfect stretch of him filling me, the way my own sharp, musky scent mixed with his sweeter one in the humid air between our bodies.
“God, look at you,” Mike gasped, his hands flying to my hips, fingers digging into the softness there, guiding my rhythm. His touch was electric, sending fresh jolts of need straight to my core. I threw my head back, a strangled cry escaping my lips as I increased the pace, slamming down onto him with a wet, slapping sound that was obscene and glorious. Each impact sent a shockwave of sensation through me—a flash of sharp, bright pain that melted instantly into a deep, throbbing pleasure, a pleasure so intense it bordered on agony.
I could feel him hitting that spot, that perfect, hidden place inside me that made my vision blur and my claws—claws?—dig into the meat of his shoulders. The world narrowed to the points where we connected: my aching nipples brushing against his chest, the sweat-slick slide of our bellies, and the deep, primal joining below. My mind was a haze of color and sensation, every thought burned away by the fire he was stoking in my belly.
“Faster,” I panted, the word a ragged breath against his neck. “Harder.”
He obeyed, his own control fraying. His thrusts became more urgent, less coordinated, a raw, animalistic drive to get deeper, to claim more. The bedframe protested with a rhythmic thump against the wall, a bassline to our symphony of gasps and moans. I could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter inside me, a spring wound to its absolute limit. The pain was a distant echo now, a ghost of sensation drowned out by the roaring tide of impending release. My entire body was taut, a bowstring about to snap.
“I’m close,” I whimpered, my voice barely recognizable. “Mike, I’m so close…”
His hands left my hips, one snaking between our bodies to find my clit, swollen and throbbing. The moment his thumb circled it, oh god, the world exploded. A white-hot bolt of pure ecstasy tore through me, unraveling every knot of tension in a cataclysmic wave. My back arched violently, every muscle locking as the orgasm ripped a raw, screaming cry from my throat. Pleasure, sharp and sweet and endless, flooded my veins, turning my limbs to liquid fire. I convulsed around him, my inner muscles milking his length in frantic, involuntary pulses.
The sensation of my climax triggered his own. With a guttural roar, he slammed up into me one last, perfect time, and I felt the hot, sudden rush of his release deep inside. It was a second, internal explosion, a flood of heat that seemed to amplify my own fading tremors, prolonging the exquisite aftershocks that juddered through my exhausted body.
For a long moment, there was only the sound of our ragged breathing and the pounding of my heart in my ears. I collapsed forward onto his chest, a boneless, sated heap. The neon light from the window painted our sweat-slicked skin in lurid colors. His cock, still half-hard, slipped wetly from me, and a fresh trickle of our mixed fluids seeped out onto the already-stained sheets.
I nuzzled into the crook of his neck, inhaling his spent, herbal scent. “Fuck,” I breathed, the word a satisfied sigh.
“Yeah,” he agreed, his voice rough.
We lay there for a few minutes, the high slowly ebbing, the real world seeping back in. The mess, for one. I propped myself up on an elbow, looking at the glistening evidence of our passion smeared across the pale sheets. A real crime scene.
“Okay, predator,” I said, poking his chest. “You made the mess. You get to help clean it up. C’mon.” I slid off the bed, my legs pleasantly wobbly. I grabbed his hand and pulled.
He followed, a lazy smile on his face, allowing me to lead him out of our bedroom and down the short hall toward the suite’s shared bathroom. The common area was empty now; Brooklyn and Jessy must have finished studying and left. Good. I pushed the bathroom door open, the cool, tiled space a stark contrast to our overheated bedroom.
I turned on the shower, adjusting the knobs until steam began to fog the mirror. The hot water hissed against the porcelain, promising cleansing… and maybe something else. I turned to face him, my teal eyes meeting his warm brown ones in the misty air. My hand trailed down his stomach, fingers tracing the line of his hip, then wrapping around him again. He was already stirring back to life under my touch.
“Threatened to clean up, did I?” I murmured, stepping backward into the spray, pulling him with me. The hot water sluiced over my orange fur, plastering it to my skin. “I think we got a little… sidetracked.”