Page 12 of Heavy Petting

I cling to him and hide my face when it heats.

He mumbles little hushing sound and lays me face down on a soft, puffy cloud that makes my full belly feel warm and happy, but I’m still nervous about what’s coming. I twist to look back at him, but he easily pins me with one hand while he reaches into a drawer with the other. He pulls out a white capsule about the size of my thumb, and holds it under a nearby canister, to collect a glob of clear gel.

The white thing has a strange chemical smell, and I don’t remember him using it last time I was in here. I only recall waking up with his finger giving me pleasure in a place I had no idea could feel good.

“What is it?” I squirm to get away when he brings it toward me.

He increases the pressure he’s using to pin me in place. “Surrmahd, Spraah,”he says, spreading my buttocks with the slippery thing and pushing it inside my bottom with his big finger.

My back passage is stretched and full, and I like how it feels when he pushes his finger in and out of me while he rubs at my inner walls, but I don’t understand why he’s doing it. Until the stinging pain from the skin on my back begins to fade.

It wasn’t hurting earlier, either. Is he giving me medicine?

“Mo brah Spraah,” he croons, massaging me inside in a way that makes me lift my ass to give him better access. “Mmm… Je mo en du, Spraah. Je mo en du.” He slides his finger back and forth a little faster, and I lower my head to the heating pad with a moan. Why do I like this?

And then the full, warm, slippery sensation is gone. He’s removed his finger from my bottom, and the pressure he was pinning me with is gone.

I miss both. I like the way he touches me.

I shiver and cling to the soft heating pad below me. It makes the needy feeling less intense. He’s only washing his hands across the room, but he seems far away. Nobody has made me feel as wonderful as he has, and I’ve become very attached to my monster very quickly. I want him close all the time.

Relief washes through me when he pats my bottom. “Obdee-oop, Spraah,” he says, helping me to roll over.

My back doesn’t hurt at all, and I smile up at him in gratitude. He touches a fingertip to my nose and smiles back. “Boop.”

I giggle at the silly sound, and he holds his hand to his chest as he gazes down on me with what feels like great fondness. My cheeks warm, and he brushes one lightly with his finger. “Za bre-shay,” he murmurs, before pressing the backs of his fingers to my forehead. His expression settles into one of great concentration, and then he reaches for a thick glass tube with lines on it.

It looks sort of familiar, but I’m not sure what it is. One end of it is big and rounded light a lightbulb, the other end is shaped more like the big end of a trumpet, and it has some sort of writing on it that glows. He holds it under the gel-dispensing canister, and collects a few dollops of the slippery stuff onto the bulbous end.

Memories flood back in. I’m sure the one he used last time was smaller. Is he going to stickthisone inside me? It’shuge.

I panic and start to scooch off the heating pad, but my monster captures me and pins me back down with ease. “Scurrah,” he says firmly, and I get the distinct impression he meansstay.

He releases me but leaves his hand hovering, as if ready to pin me again if I try to get away. “Nah bre spavenzana, Spraah.Bre-en du.” He holds a finger up, as if asking me to wait, and then reaches under the big metal platform my heated pad is on. He sets a big jar of the crimson fruits next to me and taps the lid. “Scurrah, ana tahg mun dalla.”

Is he offering me a treat if I behave? I glance at the glass bulb-tube thing again and shake my head. It’s too big. No amount of tasty treats are worth taking that inside me.

Mahz-uhrr narrows his eyes. He spreads my legs, places his hand to my belly to keep me in position, and then lowers his mouth to my sex. He laps at the wetness I made when he put the medicine in my bottom, and I arch my back, as pleasure grips my core. His tickling, teasing tongue brings forth the needy ache inside that has only existed since I met him. I writhe and rock my pelvis without any sense of control. The draw of the pleasure is too much to resist, and I seek more, thrusting at him.

My monster hums, and I moan as the vibration travels through me. He suckles at the little bud he’s turned into an incredible source of pleasure, and when I feel him press the cold, slippery tool to my tightest hole, I’m ashamed of myself forwantingit.

I tilt my tail and pant as his nudging gives way to a firm, pushing stretch that spreads my back hole wide open.

It doesn’t hurt, and the cool, smooth glass feels oddly exciting when it penetrates my heat. He pushes it deep, until the trumpet end bumps against my buttocks and thighs. It’s wide enough to keep me from closing my legs, and still he flicks his tongue at me.

He’s making me even wetter, and when I gush a trickle of fluid, he slurps it up, and then pushes his tongue inside me to get more. He probes at me with the tip of his tongue but he never pushes deep, the way my body craves.

I buck at his face, encouraging.Begging.

He grips the end of the thing in my ass and slides it back and forth. The big bulb rubs against my inner walls, massaging them like he did with his finger, only differently.More. I thrust at him, wanting more tongue, more tool, moresomething.

“Maah-zuuhrr,” I beg on a moan, when he presses more firmly on my belly to hold me down.

He shoves the bulb deep, bumps his knuckles at my sex, latches on to my little bud, andgrowls.

The pleasure takes my body by storm. A rush of fluid sprays from me to soak his neck and chest, and I throw my head back and cry out. My frantic limbs kick and lash out, in an attempt to cope with the intensity of every sensation, but my monster holds me trapped in it, forcing me to feel every powerful, gripping jolt of bliss until I’m overwhelmed and can only surrender to its strength.

He gives a deep, satisfied hum, and I feel iteverywhere.

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