A thick blanket covers my stretched legs. Upon this blanket is an open book, which I have been slowly going through in the mornings and evenings.
This bed is quite large, enough for two people. The space beside me, however, is empty; in it, only a lingering sweet smell can be felt. My girlfriend woke up before me, and she probably went downstairs to do something else. I’d like to think she’s preparing me breakfast, but I’m not that naïve; there’s no way that girl would service me in such a way.
Don’t get me wrong, I love Cynthia from the bottom of my heart, but that is just the nature of a catgirl: much like a real cat, she is lazy and clingy. But I can’t complain, since I’m totally infatuated with this good-for-nothing.
I also called her my “girlfriend”, but that’s only by human standards, since we haven’t yet had a formal wedding. By monster standards, we’re already bound for life in the way only a human man and a monstergirl can be.
We work at the same place, so we met well over a year ago. Some weeks ago, a rosy-cheeked catgirl walked up to me during lunch break and, while averting her eyes, blurted out that we would start dating. I fell for her from that confession alone, so I humoured her demand, and we had dinner together in my house that night.
Right after dinner, she said she wanted to see my room and, the moment we entered, she pushed me to the floor and forced herself onto me. Well, perhaps “forced” is the wrong word: she later told me it had taken a lot of courage to do that. Once the initial shock passed, I really got into it, so much so that we’ve done it every day since.
As I remember our first night together, I run my fingers through the open book’s page and gaze at the white world outside.
A sigh of slight annoyance escapes my lips.
Even though we’ve done it every day, I still feel like there’s something missing.... When we do it, she has me shoving it in with little foreplay. Naturally, it does feel good, but I wouldn’t mind taking it slow some times.
I guess that’s just how Cynthia is.
As I think that, I hear the doorknob twisting, and follow the sound with my eyes.
“Oh....” I let out.
Standing by the open door is Cynthia, wearing that lacy lingerie she bought weeks ago. Her chestnut hair is ruffled — she rarely combs it in the morning — and her feline ears are flat on her head. Her matching brown tail is hanging limply, and she is hugging herself, a hard blush on her face.
I am in awe at her image. That lingerie had been sitting in her drawer since the day she bought it, and I thought it never would see the light of day. Her shapely body, burning cheeks, and flustered expression all work together to make something of mine start growing down there.
This is the first time Cynthia has dressed up for me... or rather, the first time she has dressed down, considering her current state. She may be lazy and clingy, but she is nevertheless quite shy and meek. Much like the day she pushed me down, this must have taken her a lot of courage.
“Hey, Cynthia....” I say.
“H-Hey....” She says inwardly.
She walks up to the bed and sits on its edge, her back to me. In this position, I have full view of her smooth back, sans her neck which is hidden by her semi-long hair. The back strap of her bra is fastened on her slender ribcage, and her black lacy panties snugly hug her large behind. There is an ever-so-slight fold in her panties where they meet the base of her long brown tail, which is oddly arousing.
I place my book on the nightstand and lift the blanket. “Don’t you want to come under it? Our heating system may be good, but we’re in high winter: it’s still a bit chilly to be walking around half-naked.”
Still looking away from me, she stares at her lap and bites her lip. “B-But then you won’t get to see....”
“Nonsense.” I say. “I don’t want you to catch a cold. I prefer having a healthy catgirl over looking at a piece of cloth. And... t-the thought is what counts.”
I feel myself blushing as well. Her supple body is so close to mine, and this lingerie really accentuates her figure....
“All right....” She says with a small smile, then promptly slips into the blanket, touching shoulders with me.
“Why are you doing this?” I say. “Don’t get me wrong, but you usually wouldn’t bother with this kind of stuff.”
“Well...” she fidgets a little, “I feel like I’ve been imposing on you recently. I... I was so happy I finally got a boyfriend that... that I wanted to be spoiled by you. But I’ve realized I’m being a bother, and decided to do something for you.”
“Well, I do like spoiling you.” I say. “Though, if there’s one thing I’m feeling a bit peevish about, it’s our... lovemaking. It seems you just rush into it every time.”
“I’m sorry about that, too.” She flattens her ears again. “That’s for two reasons. As I said, I was so happy that I couldn’t wait and just wanted to... do it without foreplay. The second is....”
She grasps the blanket against her chest, hesitating for some reason.
“I didn’t want to hurt you....” She finally says.
“...Hurt?” I tilt my head.
“W-Well,” Cynthia says, “if you foreplayed with me, you would expect me to do it with you, right?”
“...I’d enjoy that, yes.” I say.
“Right....” She says. “B-But I’m afraid I’d be unable to control myself and end up hurting you.”
I feel she is hiding a key point of information from me, as this conversation is not making much sense.
“...My tongue.” Cynthia says, almost inaudibly.
“Your... tongue?” I say.
She nods. “My tongue is rough like a cat’s, so I’m afraid I’d hurt you while foreplaying... especially if you wanted me to lick your... y-you know....”
Oh. Yes, that does make sense. I have — fortunately — never had a cat lick my glans, but I imagine that would at best be painful, and at worst make it bleed. Yes, I can understand her reluctance now....
“Is this also the reason you’ve never gone for a deep kiss?” I ask.
Cynthia nods again. “I was afraid of hurting your tongue as well....”
My chest tightens a little at her words. Though she has wanted very badly to be spoiled up until now, she still thought about my safety and comfort.
“B-But!” She raises her voice. “I’ve trained!”
“Trained?” I say.
“Yes.” Cynthia says. “I looked it up on the Internet, and there were other girls with that problem, so I’ve read some advice and spent the last few days practicing with my tongue.”
Then, that’s why she has been spending so much time in the shower. I was starting to doubt my value as a man, so I’m thankful she was just practising.
“So...” I say, “d-do you want to do it now?”
“T-That’s what I came here for....” She says. “A-Anyway, let’s start with a d-deep kiss.”
Still in my sitting position, I lie back against my large pillow. Keeping the blanket over us, Cynthia moves to straddle me. She wraps her arms around my neck and brings her head close to mine, both of our faces flushed.
“I’m not too confident about this,” she says, “so keep your head and your tongue still... a-and close your eyes, please. This is a little embarrassing.”
I do as she says. With my eyes closed, I can better feel her soft skin touching my body.
She brings her small hand to my chin and delicately pulls my jaw down, making my mouth ajar. Soon after, her lips are touching mine, and I feel something worming its way into my mouth.
Carefully, meticulously, she runs her tongue through my mouth’s insides: first is the inner part of my cheek, then it goes through my teeth, and finally our tongues touch.
With measured movements, she coils her tongue around mine. Hers is definitely rough, and I bet it would feel like sandpaper if she were to move it fast, but right now it feels good. Her tongue is tenderly caressing mine, and that coarseness only adds to the feeling. We are essentially handholding with our tongues.
There is a wet noise every once in a while, when our mouths disconnect for a brief moment and Cynthia catches a heavier breath. Other than that, only our pants and moans fill the room, as we communicate in a way completely new to us.
I don’t know how much time passes, but being so close to the girl I love — being serviced so thoroughly by her — fills me with warmth. Indeed, my lower parts in particular are very warm.
Possibly sensing my arousal, Cynthia pulls her head back. I open my eyes and see a line of saliva connecting our mouths for an instant. Despite being a catgirl, Cynthia now has her tongue hanging off her mouth like a dog.
She has a hazy look in her eyes, probably unaware of her open mouth. A trail of saliva starts running down her tongue, falling into her modest bra-clad bosom, and running down through her cleavage.
There’s something animalistic about a girl drooling this way. Seeing this makes my member twitch, pressing against Cynthia’s round butt from below.
My poking apparently brings her back to her senses, as she hurriedly closes her mouth and puts a hand over it. But, after looking at me for a moment, she seems to understand I was aroused at her drooling tongue.
Going even redder than before, she moves her hand away from her mouth, hesitantly opens it, and lets her tongue roll out. It’s not particularly long — I’m sure an akaname would laugh at its size — but it’s long enough to reach down to her chin, likely a feature of her species.
Now that she is doing it deliberately, even more saliva runs through her tongue and into her chest. Once again, my towering friend twitches within the loose confines of my pajama pants, and she grinds her backside against it.
There is embarrassment in Cynthia’s eyes, of course, but she seems somewhat smug now; a first for her.
“I didn’t know you had a saliva fetish, darling.” She says.
“Neither did I,” I say, “but I guess I do.”
“In any case...” Cynthia says, “let’s get to the main course.”
She slides down my body, getting her head in line with my crotch. I pull the blanket back a little, so that her head is completely out of it, but her half-naked body remains covered.
She pulls my pants back, making the main attraction spring forward. Without hesitating, she opens her mouth and lets her saliva trickle down, lubricating me.
Cynthia grabs onto my hips, one hand on each side, and envelops my manhood with her mouth.
“Ng....” I let out a short moan and hunch over as her rough tongue wraps around my shaft.
Instinctively, I move my hands to her head, gripping onto her brown mane, with each of her ears between an index and a thumb. Since I know she enjoys having her ears rubbed, I do so, eliciting a deep moan from her, which reverberates against my rod.
She caresses my most precious spot as she did my tongue, gauging my reactions to see what she could and couldn’t do, always trying to please me without hurting me.
At some point, she seems to get confident enough to go up to my glans. She did not warn me, so I tense up the moment her rough tongue touches it. Sensing my reaction, she gently strokes my thighs with both hands, prompting me to calm down.
As I settle, she begins moving ever so slowly, starting from the underside of my glans, then going up, and back down again. Her movements are careful and methodic.
Even with all care in the world, her tongue is still far too stimulating, and I near my orgasm in no time.
“C-Cynthia...!” I shout between moans and press her head down, hilting myself into her mouth.
I pushed myself so deeply that I can feel her throat constricting around my glans. She lets out a deep, throaty moan, and the vibrations of her throat against my manhood snap me into an orgasm.
I hold her head tightly against me as I shoot thick ropes straight into her esophagus. I feel her throat making some swallowing movements and, after squeezing the little semen left in me, Cynthia pulls her head back. Many trails of saliva connect her open mouth and my softening member.
“Haaah... haaah....” She is panting and running her hands over my stomach.
Sitting up, Cynthia hooks a finger on her bra’s clasp and pulls it down seductively, a small grin making its way onto her face.
“Shall we get to the next part?” She says.
With a ragged breath, I nod.
- - -
As I open my eyes, the first thing I see is the snowfall outside, now heavier than before. It still doesn’t compare to last night’s storm, but it might by the time evening comes. A perfect weather to lazily waste a day at home.
While still focused on the snowy sky outside, I feel something moving within my embrace. Turning my head down, I see none other than Cynthia, lightly squirming in her sleep. The heavy blanket hides both of us up to our necks, and we are directly sharing our body heat. Under the covers, I am completely naked, while Cynthia is still wearing her skimpy lingerie.
Once my sight lands on her cute twitching ears, I cannot help myself. I bring my head down, place the very tip of one ear between my lips, gently nibble on it.
A husky moan escapes the catgirl’s mouth. “Ngm... honey?”
I take her ear out of my mouth and pat her head. “Rise and shine, kitty.”
Her eyes are heavy, but she is definitely awake and staring at me. In a sharp move, she presses her head onto my bare chest, snuggling her cheek against it.
“So... we fell asleep somewhere along the way?” She says.
“Seems so.” I say.
“...Were you okay?” She says. “Did I hurt you at any point?”
“Not really.” I say. “I could feel you were doing your best to avoid hurting me, and it felt really good. I hope we can do this more often.”
A blush creeps into her features, and the cat-eared girl giggles. She playfully pecks my chest, then gives it a few short licks. Very cat-like.
“I want to stay like this.” Cynthia says, breathing deeply over my rib cage. “Can we just stay in bed all day?”
I smile at her. “I’m afraid we still need to eat.”
She upturns her head, resting her chin on me. Her lazy eyes are combined with a smug grin. “I’ve already taken in so much of your thick seed that I think I don’t need to eat today.”
I feel my cheeks heating up slightly. She usually is not this forward, but having done it so many times today must have flipped some weird switch in her.
“Well,” I say, “at least one of us can’t subsist on sex alone, so I’ll need to get out of bed later to eat.”
“Then,” Cynthia says, wrapping her arms around my neck, “let’s pre-emptively make up for that by taking in as much of each other as possible.”
She rubs her bare skin against mine, then nuzzles her chin on my shoulder and rubs her cheek against mine. I reciprocate by rubbing the base of her fluffy ears, which elicits a deep purr from her.
“Yeah, let’s.” I say, smiling at the prospect of a lazy winter afternoon.