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“I. Don’t. Need. A. Massage. ” Pulchra made that last word a hiss, one that would out bristle the sharpest cactus in the Outer Ring. The needles, venom, and threat in her words smoldered, melted, and steamed away in the face of that smile. That fucking smile.
“C’mon, kitty. Mama Burnice is certified, you know!” Burnice said, hands groping at the air in the shape of Pulchra’s tail. At least Pulchra hoped it was her tail. Her smile seemed seared onto her face, embedded in those flawless ruby eyes of hers. And that smile…
Perfectly pouty. Movie star pretty. The kind that you would find in a makeup commercial, come-hither lips that gleamed perfect white teeth like an oyster’s pearl. Her lips had the faintest hint of lip gloss, just enough to catch the evening light filtering through the meeting area. A cloyingly sweet scent wafted from them. Strawberry or cherry flavored balm, and of course the stain of the nitro fuel the batty-no, batshit insane girl swilled every day of her life.
Pulchra hated smiles. That’s why she wore a mask. What was there in a mercenary’s gritty life to smile about? The scars, the coins, the dingy nights in motel after motel?
“Her massages are pretty good, Rookie! Whenever my back is achin’, it’s Burnice I always come to! And my back aches a lot!” Caesar, The Boss of this motley crew, her new boss at that… Agreed with Burnice of all people. A few weeks in, and Pulchra knew that Caesar was, without a doubt, strong, valiant, charismatic, gracious.
And rock stupid. In equal amounts to the rest of her charms. The first thing that came out of her mouth would always be the final answer, no matter how many circuitous arguments she and Lucy got into.
“Must be because of your big personality…” Lucy scoffed. Lucy never said anything without a scoff, or a huff, or perhaps a haughty laugh. Pulchra’s kind of girl, and definitely not Burnice. The haughty half-pint was Pulchra’s last line of appeal among these lunatics. She and Pulchra rarely saw eye to eye. The only person Lucy could see eye to eye with was her precious proxy, and maybe a Bangboo standing on its tiptoes.
Piper was asleep. Quite audibly so. She would be of no use to anyone but her precious Steeltusk.
And Lighter. That guy was sitting in a corner. Pulchra had him marked by now. Lighter was the kind of guy who evolved from being brothers with a band of women. He knew how to throw his ear a thousand miles away when the need came, and he knew how to call it back when needed. Pulchra had half a mind to ask him how to do that. The Sons of Calydon would drive her insane otherwise.
That also meant he was useless. Completely useless
“This isn’t something that needs a vote!” Pulchra whirled, hair bristling. She shifted her tail into her hands, hugging it to her chest. The bushy fur was admittedly matted, Pulchra’s favorite boutique was in the city, and she was still light on transportation until these quacks fixed her good bike. She did need somebody skilled to reach the places she couldn’t reach as well. Not Burnice.
“This… there’s no way this isn’t sexual harassment!” Pulchra cried.
She didn’t trust Burnice at her six. The minute her eyes were off, she’d try to pet her.
“I didn’t know you guys swung that way.” Lighter said cooly. Pulchra whirled to stare daggers into the man, but he quickly retreated behind those stupid shades of his.
She turned, jumping to see Burnice right at her side, smiling with a child’s scrunched eyes and exuberant smile. Sparkles practically sparkled all around her. “Don’t you trust me, kitty? I would never do anything that compromised our bond.” Said the woman who burned her tail.
It was true, Burnice had done a lot for her. But all of that was repayment in Pulchra’s eyes. She had found her out in that motel, vouched for her in front of skeptical friends, taught her all about the Sons of Calydon and everything, and even made meals for her. Pulchra was used to eating the equivalent of kibble on most days as a merc. She hated to say it, but the Outer Ring had the best eating she’d ever had, all cooked by Burnice. She even… sigh.
She even shared a room with Burnice, all until actual living arrangements could be hers. She could sleep, with one eye open, mind you, with Burnice in the room and trust her safety. But she was not touching her tail.
“I’m only insisting because you sprained yourself in the hollow.” How… how the hell had she noticed that? Pulchra could catwalk a limp and have people none the wiser. She was a lick-her-wounds type of girl and had been since her whispers were only this long.
Ugh… her perv senses were right. Burnice had been checking her out . The little pets were gropes, her calling Pulchra kitty was no doubt some type of kinky, bedroom raceplay and Pulchra hated it.
She rubbed her thighs together and purposely tried to bristle her fur.
“Lies,” Pulchra said, making sure to stand on her bad foot. She swallowed that wince of pain like a big girl, putting a hand on her hip to sell the confidence. Burnice mimicked the pose, which annoyed her.
“Well… if you are at risk of an injury…” Lucy’s brow furrowed. Well, furrowed even more than usual as she rested her chin atop the hands on her bat. “I say get the massage. We’re not exactly well-insured here in the outer ring, so any recuperation is good. Burnice is quite good at massages, I admit.
Great… Pulchra was dead. She hated that she was halfway curious. Lucy was a bitch, but a rich bitch with good tastes. If she vouched for Burnice’s technique, then maybe it wouldn’t be agonizing, just brutal and horrible.
“I vote for the massage,” Lighter said. “Anything to ease the tension between you two.” Pulchra saw that smirk. He was probably one of those guys who jacked it to women touching each other. Why else join the Sons of Calydon? Pulchra knew that type, and she was never one to project.
Piper’s log-sawing snores stopped for a moment to voice her opinion. “Aye… or nay… whatever one is winning…” and then went back to snoring.
And finally, Burnice. “Only if the kitty wants to.” She said, oh so innocently. It was just a ploy, a child’s trick for candy that she never outgrew. So why did Pulchra suddenly feel sympathy? Gah… She was going to need to get well and drunk for this…
“Fine! Fine. Looks like you’re all fine with Pulchra getting groped to heal a little boo-boo. You’ll regret these words. All of you.”
“Burnice looked like a woman who won the lottery. No, Pulchra had seen Burnice win quite a few lotteries somehow. She looked even more excited.
“Meet me in our room in an hour. I have a lot to prepare!” Burnice dashed off, at roughly 25 mph if Pulchra was any guess, leaving an engulfing dust cloud in her wake. Great. Yet more dust for Burnice to clean out of her tail….
Pulchra returned to Burnice’s room an hour and fifteen minutes later, lightly buzzed from the bar. Piper was serving drinks in Burnice’s accents, and Pulchra wagered she could get smoother drinks from a cactus than the sleepy trucker. Whatever, it got her tipsy enough. Normally, Burnice’s room was the kind of ordered chaos that Burnice had. How she lived like this Pulchra didn’t know. Stratas of clothing lay everywhere, from hoodies to tube tops, to underwear running the gamut from frilly panties to bold thongs.
“For variety! Just like flavored Nitro Fuels!”
Burnice had told her Burnice had many things rattling in her head. Shame was not one of them. Neither was sense for that matter.
Burnice at the very least kept on top of laundry, but she folded clothing about as well as she stayed still. Pulchra had started to fix this if only to save her own sanity. She slept on the couch, a comfier bed than she was used to to be honest, and it was the only bastion of order in the room, except for the mini fridge. The path from bed to mini fridge was like a parted sea, it was so pristine.
Her bed was overlarge, in the middle of the room like some sort of lunatic who made an enemy of the very concept of feng-shui, and laden with stuffies and blankets. I suppose it made sense for the pyromaniac to sleep warmly.
Amazingly, the mess was all gone now. The lumpy, kicked-up piles of clothing across the room were replaced with a makeshift massage table, it was hardly an inviting thing, but the patchwork belied the strength and reliability of the thing.
“Welcome, Pulchy! Are you ready for a massage de Burnice!” Burnice said. She wore a fluffy white robe, haphazardly sashed around her waist. Pulchra tried her best not to look at the thin straight that went from breast to navel. From what she saw Burnice was only wearing the robe. Someone should probably tell her the masseuse kept their clothes on…
“That’s not my name. Also, a terrible pet name.” Pulchra said, sashaying with some defiance in her hip and tail.
“Oh?” Burnice tilted her head, her pigtails bouncing with the light movement. “Pupu then?”
“That’s even worse! I… ugh. Let’s get this over with. First of all, you’re not supposed to be in the room when they disrobe.”
“But we’ve showered together. Plus, you’re really pretty.”
“I… you… Pulchra sputtered the thoughts, too flustered to even speak the sputtering.” It’s for the immersion. Have you ever watched a massage video?” Burnice nodded her head like a bobblehead.
“Ok, then you know how important atmosphere is?”
Burnice nodded again.
“Good girl~” Pulchra meant the phrase as a mocking remark, one that would shame the girl into some obedience. It did quite the opposite. The girl mewled, more than Pulchra herself ever mewled.
“I’ll be your good girl if you like me that way, Pulchra.”
Pulchra felt her cheeks flush like tomatoes, and a migraine forming in her temples. She didn’t know which was worse.
“Outside. Now.
“Okie~”
Pulchra, now laid bare except for a towel, closed her eyes. Breathing through her nose. She should have left her mask on. Pulchra felt rather insecure about her face, or rather her snout. Did… Burnice really think she was pretty? Pulchra had always been, well… too Thireny for some. That was a stereotype but she was far from your Hoshimis on the typical Thiren beauty scale. Ignore it. She thought. She had to admit that Burnice had done a great job of ambiance. Candles, scented like cactus flowers, wafted through the room. A pleasing, fresh scent with a simple kick to it. It was such a nuanced, pleasing scent that it was hard to think Burnice had set up the ambiance.
“Good evening, Pulchra Fellini.” The voice was still Burnice but toned down from the usual crazy. Still singsong, but more harmonious than obnoxious melody. “I’m your masseuse today, Burnaughty Black.”
Was… was Burnice even more stupid than usual?
“N… Nice to meet you. I must say Bur…naughty. I have high expectations of you. As you should, Ms. Fellini. A good kitty like you deserves the very best touches.” There she goes again using that… weapon of a voice on Pulchra.
“V-very well.” Pulchra was glad her eyes were closed. She heard the wash of a basin of water, and the spritz of a moisturizer. And then she felt Burnice’s hands.
“Mmm…” Pulchra couldn’t help but purr as Burnice began, rolling palms down her neckline. She had just the perfect amount of pressure, made better by the moisture in her palms. The grove of her hands stroked the grain of her fur as satin fingertips massaged the skin underneath. She was… pretty good at this.
“That’s right,” Pulchra said. Her tail was even starting to swish.
Your fur is so perfect… it makes me jealous. Bur… She was just going to call her Burnice. Anyways, her fingers danced and rolled just below Pulchra’s collar, removing the stress from her chest. Pulchra could feel her breath hitch a bit from the pressure and only the pressure. She was a vexingly intentional person. Every overlong hug, every surprise glomping Pulchra had received from her must have been homework to Burnice. She knew all the places that Pulchra liked to be touched, as well as the places to avoid.
The pleasure continued to grow as Pulchra rolled.
“Oh my god you’re back is so beautiful…” Pulchra bristled, though not in discontent. She was used to bullets whizzing past her, not compliments.
“Thank you,” She decided to answer. “It’s….ahh… from hard work…” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck Fuck. Pulchra moaned. Why the fuck did she do that.
Burnice’s elbows worked the cricks out of her back, expertly weaving through the pleased swish of Pulchra’s tail. And further down she went, along with Pulchra’s sinking exhibitions. She regretted downing alcohol before this. It was just a cup, but it was making her body too honest. Burnice’s fingers worked extra along and around her thigh. That was where Pulchra’s sprain was.
Every time Burnice danced into her soft inner thigh Pulchra had to bite her tongue to stop from moaning. Especially when she rolled the stress out of her thighs up to her glutes. Every single time Pulchra half expected, half wanted Burnice to cup a feel. It’s not like the girl was ever subtle about her attractions before
“Sorry, was I too hard?”
“...Let’s roll with that.”
Pulchra sighed, squishing into the massage table a bit more, she hoped that the feeling would distract her. No, not with those hands stroking her perfectly, to and fro. They were a sinner’s hands, a crazed lunatics at that. So why did they trace every contour of her muscles, eliciting a flow of womanly honey, one that made Pulchra purr?
“Ahhhn.. I mean- H-ey! Just.. fhuu…” Petra said, gasping against the damnable sensuality of Burnice’s fingers. Her fingers massaged her pussy in rhythmic circles, with gentle pressure that only threatened to slip inside her.
“Giving my kitty a happy ending. Free of charge~”
Pulchra’s body was too hot to deny it. She… her body wanted this, craved the touches after so long, it was just… hard to feel good and trust people at the same time.
“Please, Kitty? You’re stressed, and you’re so gorgeous. Just let me be your good girl for the night and make you feel good.” Burice pleaded. Yes, pleading… for Pulchra to ask whatever she wanted of her. In any business but the Sons of Calydons, Pulchra would have cut herself on the attached strings. But only Burnice could be so aggressively genuine about tending to her every need.
“Fine. But the minute I say no, you stop.
“Uh-huh! Thank you so much! I love you! I won’t disappoint!” Burnice smiled, as pure as a golden retriever. It was almost cute, given the circumstances. Pulchra sighed, spicing it with the hint of a moan. She could allow herself that now. Alright, kid let’s see what those pretty fingers of yours can-”
Pulchra had expected Burnice to go back to touching her with silky fingers, maybe even a bit of heavy petting and kissing. No
Burnice dove in headfirst, her fingers settling in on the tender meat of Pulchra’s thighs. “Hey1! What are you doing!”
Burnice did not answer. How could she? For once, she was as quiet as a fieldmouse, before opening her mouth and kissing up the sweetest part of Pulchra’s inner thigh. Her toes curled, claws contracting and retracting, tail swishing as those hot, pillowy lips suckled the soft skin inches away from her dripping pussy.
Burnice’s hands still continued their legacy mission. Giving her the best massage that money could buy. It felt a lot more like fondling her ass than tenderizing her glutes though. Her hands caressed half moons through her achy muscles, groping the area in between with silky, hands. Pulchra’s eyes rolled as she purred aloud, buckling under the pressure of Burnice’s love. Fuck… how was she so good with her tongue!?
Pulchra moaned aloud when Burnice’s tongue begin to play. She was tender, exploring, and affectionate. Every now and then Pulchra would feel a kiss against her lips, one that always ended with a teasing swipe of her tongue. Pulchra had it so bad that she almost moaned Burnice’s name. Burnice’s !
She balled her fists and slammed them against the table as Burnice had her fill of her. She needed to think of something, anything, other than how good this felt.
No, Pulchra, you’re not gonna give her the satisfaction of release. You could say no at any… ngh… m-moment.
But Pulchra didn’t want to say no, it was a vile word, a slur. It filled her with a bile to even think of saying it. She needed this, though she would never admit it past this little thought. She needed to cum, and whine, and destress. And she needed Burnice White to do it for her.
With that fucking slippery silver tongue of hers, the way it was swirling around her clit right now. Or the way her hands half pet, half fondled her lower body, starting from the round curve of her hips to stroke up her tail, as far as her hands could reach. Fuck…
Pulchra wrapped her arms around the underside of the table, to better brace herself and save burnice some pain. She may be faint of hearing and sight at the moment, but Pulchra still had strong thighs; she didn’t put poor Burnice in the hospital when she came.
She could feel Burnice licking some letters into her sweet pussy. She hardly knew what it was, and Burnice didn’t strike Pulchra as a great speller, but every lick elicited the memory of her name, sounded in Burnice’s speech..
“Pulchra~
“Miss Kitty”
“Cum for me.”
Pulchra thought she would howl, at the very least hiss when she came. No, far more embarrassing. Pulchra mewled, a high-pitched, squeaky girly aria of meewls that set her back ten years. Her thighs seized up around Burnice as she made a mess, squirting over the pretty girl’s face. Strong thighs held her there, as impassioned as the tongue still massaging her, as it desperately tried to lap up every last drop.
Bliss, relief, and the fleeting will to bask in the moment filled Pulchras slurry little head. Burnice White had joined the solitary pantheon of people that had been able to make Pulchra cum her kitty brains out, and Pulchra couldn’t help but bite the pillow and sigh at the thought.
“Good kitty,” Burnice cooed. Taking the moment to stroke her hands through Pulchra’s fur. Pulchra hated to admit it, but Burnice’s voice sounded impossibly sweet, making her ears twitch with a reddened pulse. Her hands glided with the grain of Pulchra’s fur, then gently against it, changing the color with each movement. One moment, a lush burnt orange, A swish of the hand, and it was a pale gold.
“You’re so pretty, Pulchra.” Burnice’s voice was part envy, part arousal. “I just want to be there for you when you need it. Please let me…” And as quick as that, it turned into a needy whine, like a puppy that had imprinted too early.
She liked it. Fuck it all… she fucking liked Burnice and her company.
“Quiet…” Pulchra said, panting, before adding, “More. You’re still not done with my- nngh massage…” Her body twitched with both attraction and revulsion on asking for something, especially pleasure and company.
“Hmm…” Burnice thought, for perhaps the first time since Pulchra met her. The silence was an agony to sit through, especially= after an orgasm, Pulchra’s pussy still throbbed, she wanted to be held and cuddled, and just as quickly wanted that nauseous neediness fucked out of her.
“Only if you kiss me.”
“Kiss you!?” Pulchra pushed herself up with her hands, turning with pleading eyes of her own. Burnice had that look in her eyes. That look… the same as the day she first met this nightmare of a girl.
She couldn’t kiss Burnice. No matter how sweet-looking they looked, glossy like freshly made candy. There was her reputation at stake. Pulchra was called many things out in the Outer Ring - a good kisser was not one of them.
But… nobody would know, would they? Pulchra was a check first, love much later, kind of girl, but here it was, closing her eyes and pouting her lips right in front of her. Beautiful, exasperatingly entertaining to be around, and…
Genuine. Burnice was insane, but any hurts she caused would never be aimed at her heart. Her tail was sure, but she could live with that.
Instead of alcohol, Pulchra swallowed her pride and pressed closer to Burnice. Their foreheads came together first, Pulchra breathed silently, wrapping around the warm winds of Burnice’s moan. Then their chins dipped closer, their noses making contact. Human noses felt weird. So pointy, Pulchra thought for a moment. She hoped her own nose wasn’t so weird feeling. Pulchra hated her nose, but now was not a time for Thiren self-hate.
Then, their lips… Mmm, they came together like twin bikers riding side by side, their neon red lights shining stars in the night. Their breaths thrummed faster, though. It was hot and wet, their lips pressing with the gentle pressure that came with a master masseuse. “Pulchra… Burnice moaned for a moment and said cat thiren had no time to register how utterly wet that sweet moan made her before they were sucking face again. Pulchra’s tongue was the first to dance; Burnice’s came out all too happily.
Pulchra was built buxom, and quite used to the eyes, the style, and the back pains that came with it. She was not used to the feeling of those breasts pushing against the other. The gentle squish of flesh against flesh, that sinfully good tactility between the tender fur of her chest and tummy against Burnice’s soft, perfect skin.
They pulled away, or rather Pulchra did, she was hot, overheating even. In those gaudy, poor-taste thiren pornos, some would say she was in heat. But god… was it really supposed to feel this good? Her pussy yearned for release, for Burnice to kiss there as good as she did a click north. She wasn’t going to ask. Pulchra never asked for things.
But she did receive things tonight, as Burnice’s hand slid down, groping her chest and rubbing her tummy. Further south it went before it slid fully against her pelvis and to her wet twat. “So warm…” Burnice warmed, slipping a singular digit inside. Again, Pulchra whined.
Burnice had a hair trigger with a flamethrower, but that no doubt made her fingers all the better at stirring her up. Even just the singular finger found little honeycombs of pleasure Pulchra never knew. Each one was revealed with an embarrassing squelch of her loins. Pulchra’s own hands were paralyzed, tethered by lust and nerves. She was worried, could she do the same for Burnice? What about her own performance? Was it really safe to lose control like this?
“Stop toying with me…” Pulchra tried to make that purr a hiss, the latter was better on brand!
“Oh! That reminds me!” Burnice nearly bowled over as she hopped off the massage table.
“What the, where are you going!?” Pulchra watched Burnice bounce and canter across the room, admiring just how… bouncy she was at hip and chest. How that top stayed on, Pulchra would never know.
Burnice bent over to rummage through the junkyard under her bed. Her hips wriggled enticingly, Pulchra had half a mind to surprise her in kind, slip a finger inside that juicy pussy that glistened.
Pulchra’s eyes went as wide as milk-filled saucers, but not as wide as the girth of the dildo Burnice whipped out. It had the mother of all mushroom tips, a vein so well detailed that Pulchra swore it pulsed. The heft of it was so heavy it drooped a bit. In her offhand, Burnice wielded a wand, one that thrummed with the click of a button. “Wh-wh-what are you going to do?” Pulchra thought Burnice was all kisses and annoying hugs not this…
“Fuck you, of course!” Burnice said the expletive was innocent in a way only she could make it. “Oooh look, one more thing!” Burnice ran a finger tenderly along the vein before squeezing just enough at the base and jerking that rubbery meatstick. A dollop of whatever cream that filled it came dribbling out the tip. “It squirts!”
Pulchra tried to hiss and push away, but that heat in her body made it sound like a needy mewl, which it was. Burnice hopped onto the massage table like a lynx after her prey. The witch used her wand first, turning it on with a zappy flick of her thumb. ‘I love this, kitty. I hope you will too~ Lift your tail for me, kitty, and spread those thick thighs!” Pulchra did as Burnice ordered, she didn’t know what the hell Burnice had planned for her, and god damn it, that’s what she liked about this .
Burnice surprised her, lifting the little metal knob, it had a smaller knob at the end, a gaudy fake ruby on. It looked something like an oversized, gaudy earring.
Wait! Pulchra’s brain finally gained sentience again. That was no earring. That was a but-
Burnice pressed in the metal plug with a push of her thumb. It went in that easy, and Pulchra moaned even easier from it. The feel of the cool metal in her ass was as foreign as it was immediately addicting. It felt like a new part of her, her tight little hole welcoming in the little tow all too well.
“Mmm… Kitty, likes that, didn’t she?” Pulchra only noticed after blinking lusty tears away that her tail was swaying. She tried to stop it, but to no avail. Fuck, this feels… words. Words Pulchra was too embarrassed and too aroused to think clearly.
Pulchra may as well have been trussed to the table. Burnice’s dulcet tones had paralyzed her and she couldn’t lift a finger if she wanted to, chiefly because she didn’t want to. She watched as the vibrator slowly descended closer to her dripping pussy, The simple syrup of her voice was only contrasted by the jolts of pleasure that hit Pulchra as it began to vibrate against her clit.
“Burnice…” Pulchra mewled, her eyes rolled, her head swayed, and her breasts heaved as she let go of stress, of insecurities, of everything but desire. Her body was now a circuit board of lust, jolts of electricity humming from her clit to the rest of her body, threatening to overheat her. She could feel the heat surge through her perfectly manicured hands down to her pawed feet. Burnice, being Burnice, used her moment of weakness to massage Pulchra sweetly, running her fingers through sweaty, matted fur.
“Good kitty…” You’re doing so well. Pulchra moaned when Burnice called her good, her tail began to swish from under her and her hips surged with frenetic movement, trying to grind against the nonexistent pressure in the air.
“A-gain…” Pulchra begged. She was well past shame now, it was only the two of them between these walls, she could indulge herself. People rarely thanked Pulchra aside from a curt nod, let alone called her a good kitty.
“Mmm… Of course, kitty~ I love my sweet little kitty, her little mewls, her big breasts, her sexy shorts, the way her tail swishes when she’s happy. She deserves to cum her brains out again and again.
“God…” Pulchra’s moan shot out of her, cocked back in her throat before letting it loose to the world. It felt like the hand of god was pushing against her abdominals, but it was only Burnice, rubbing the soft skin there.
Pulchra didn’t realize how hard she came until she saw the mess she’d made of the towel, the wet mark was a whole shade darker, more magenta than the pink it had been. She was still bleary, more drunk than she was before she came here.
And Burnice was not done with her, she grabbed that dildo double-handed, Pulchra barely even felt it slide in, only the hot, sweet bliss of being filled up. She had never done anything like this, but it felt so good, so sweet… Pulchra moaned, absolutely contented with the feeling of that cocky toy filling her.
“Mmm, I knew you’d love that.” Burnice held the two by the balls, pulling out of Pulchra slowly so that every single selfish fold clung to the veiny rod. In contrast to that, Burnice pushed it back into Pulchra’s pussy with a ferocious speed, enough to jostle her body and bounce her breasts.
Pulchra moaned, her eyes rolling enough to make the world dizzy. Whatever could be said of Burnice White, she was no liar. Burnice fucked Pulchra, petting her tail, whispering sweet nothing, and shoving however many inches of silicon cock inside her.
Pulchra loved it. The feeling was freeing, and blissful, she was pampered in a way she had never been in her life. Her mask was off, her nose was as wet as her cunt, and she was moaning Burnice’s name, begging to be called a good kitty. Her please were only just audible of the churning of her hot, sticky pussy, combining with the cream inside the dildo, every full thrust squelched out more and more cream, whether it was from the toy or Pulchra herself she didn’t know, nor did she care.
When Pulchra came, she came so hard, she stopped thinking, stopped, nearly everything. It was like going to heaven but with a thousand hands petting her, worshipping her, and making her feel loved. It was nearly out of body, she watched from afar as a lonely Thiren girl got all she wanted, her thighs opening and closing around a slender hand as her fur bristled with every quaking orgasm.
God, it was good. Pulchra loved it, and that crazy lady of fire with it.
Sunday Brunch was always a garish affair in the Outer Ring. A typical greasy spoon buffet, elevated by the talents of the insufferably amazing head chef of Cheestetopia.
Who was currently hugging her tail….
“Hey, don’t get Syrup and nitro fuel on my tail!” Pulchra hissed as best she could, ignoring how good Burnice’s pets had gotten.
“Don’t be so mean to me, kitty! Mama Burnice can always clean it up again!”
The implication, if Burnice was even one to understand the implication, made Pulchra blush through her fluffy cheeks. She huffed, snatching up her tail. That only gave Burnice the opportunity to slide closer in their remote booth and rest her head against her. Her garish golden hairclips clinked against Pulchra’s shoulder but her hair was sinfully soft, courtesy of the extra-long shower they took after their “Massage”.
It felt… nice, Pulchra admitted. But there were too many eyes around for such public displays of affection.
Caesar traipsed by, effortlessly carrying a veritable mountain of buffet fare Eggs, mantled by layers of waffles, sluiced with syrup, and a jug of whole milk that made Pulchra wretch a little.
“Hey! You look stress-free today! What did I tell you about that massage? Caesar smiled as hard as a heatwave, all but throwing a thumbs up at them.
She sat down… directly adjacent to them. Great. Pulchra pulled Burnice’s hand away from her inner thigh. There would be time for heavy petting later when her no-nonsense personality was not at stake.
The rest of the ‘Sons’ came in soon after Caesar. Lucy, with a plate of egg whites, fruit, and avocado toast, Lighter with jam on toast, washed down with Ice water. And Piper, who had Biscuits and gravy and a thermos of black coffee half as big as her. Pulchra could smell the caffeine from here, yet Piper still yawned after she glugged down a mouthful of it.
Great… couldn’t a girl get some privacy?
Pulchra’s ears twitched, her mask thankfully filtering out the moan that thrummed through. “Burnice!” She hissed, snatching the hand away from the unbuckled hem of her jean shorts. “Bad girl!”
Her head swiveled to the table with their other friends, thankfully, they were busy inhaling food, reading, trying to look cool, and sleeping respectively. Thank god.
“But I want to play with my little kitty more,” Burnice said, pressing even closer than her. She could feel her arm nestle between Burnice's chest, a warm embrace that shot a bolt of lightning through her, to kindle the heat in her core.
Easy Pulchra. Nobody has more self-control than you. Even with such soft…
Eggs, yes eggs. Jiggly ones pressing close to her.
Pulcha did her best to endure the feminine wiles, as subtle as a grease fire, coming off of Burnice. Unfortunately, self-control was nothing but fuel for a horny wildfire.
Pulchra endured glomping hugs, warm whispers in her ear, and the occasional grope as best she could, leveraging her bigger size to hide the amorous infractions from their friends. Luckily, they were still busy with their food, of which there was too much.
"C'mon Pulchra. We can go back and cuddle right now. Nobody has to know what a sweet kitty you really are." Burnice whispered. Pulchra's ear's twitched from base to tip.
"You know you want it. I have plenty more toys to try~" Pulchra held her tail to stop it from swishing. In response Burnice came very close to her furry lil' ears.
"You know Burnice super loves you~"
It all became too much then, Pulchra yanked Burnice by the arm, dragging her from the booth.
“Alright, Burnice. You want to play dirty. We can play dirty in the training yard.” She said, not at all thinking of a training yard. “We’ll see how cutesy you are when it comes to target practice…”
Burnice beamed at the idle threat, happily being dragged away.
Now out of sight, but now out of mind, the rest of the Sons of Calydon enjoyed their food in peace.
But not before three of them begrudgingly reached in their pockets, pulling out hefty purses of Dennies to render unto Lucy what was now Lucy’s.
“The young people sure move fast these days…”
“Not even dinner and a movie… I’ll have to ask Burnice for some lines.”
“It’s never that fast in the comics...”
Lucy took the winnings, beaming more smug in being right than being all the richer.
“Hmm Hmm~ Never doubt Lucy in matters of the heart.” She smiled, not with an ostentatious flip of her hair. Sure, Lucy had no partner of her own, but who needed affection, heavy petting, and trysts in the training yard when the sweet sensation of being right was still on her lips?