Page 51 of The Minotaur's Valentine

“What do you want to do?” Milo asks, one eyebrow arched, head cocked.

I lick my lips. “I have an idea.”

Chapter Forty-Three: Milo

My girlfriend’s idea is romantic. Libby spreads the blankets and pillows on the floor of the living room, pushing her couch against the wall. (I do that part.) Then, she lights candles and puts them safely in the corners of the room, creating a warm, golden haven where there’s just this beautiful, breathtaking goddess in black silk and blonde hair, Apocalyptica playing on the portable speaker, and me, a minotaur lying on the floor, watching it all unfold.

Libby walks to me slowly, eyes never leaving my face. I expect her to lie down next to me, but instead, she sits down at my hooves.

She explores in silence, still looking at me as her hands caress my legs. She finds my tail and plays with it, which I didn’t know could make my balls tighten instantly.

“Is that good?” she murmurs, her voice low so that the spell isn’t broken.

“Uh. Yes. Yes, that’s...Oh. Oh, whoa.” One of her hands cups my heavy sack. Only half of it fits in her soft, slender palm. The other hand is wrapped completely around my tail, up high near my rear. She strokes it like she’d stroke an average-sized cock.

“Mm.”

I don’t even know what the hell is happening, except that I have to choke down a marriage proposal. My girlfriend has her head between my thighs and is rubbing her face all over my “family jewels”.

“These are awesome. Is this why men like boobs?” Libby asks, abandoning my tail to fondle my balls.

“Uh. Maybe? I don’t know. Did you just compare my testicles to breasts?” I’m not sure how I feel about that, but I love what she’s doing.

“Yes! They’re fun. Soft but firm. You obviously like what I’m doing to them.” Libby pops her head up to smile at me and then starts kneading them. Push up, pull down, fingers lifting and separating, cupping, and squeezing. My cock tip starts dribbling. I didn’t know these sensations even existed.

Libby keeps doing this sinful thing to me, milking my sack while she starts bobbing her head up and down, mouth open, tongue flat against my cock. It won’t fit in her mouth, but her mouth covers a good patch of territory, slurping and sucking as she strokes me.

“Libby. Libby, I’m gonna come,” I grunt, faster than I think is possible.

“Wait.” Libby stops everything.

Thank God. Respite. “I didn’t want to—”

Her silk nightie flies over her head. “Okay. I didn’t want to get that soaked.”

“You... you want me to come on you?”

“I want to make you come. Where it goes is up to you, in me or on me seem like two likely places.”

“But girls don’t like that. I mean, I thought. I mean, it’s hard to think.” She’s doing it again, but now she’s got my tail trapped between her thighs. I curl it up and I can feel the warm wetness of her pussy. The pre-cum I’m releasing is a fountain at this point.

“You make me come. Lots. I just want... I want to be like you. Unselfish. I want to see you come, lose control like you make me lose control.”

I force my eyes open to see if she’s joking.

Nope. She’s rubbing her tits all over my cock, and now she’s see-sawing her pussy against my tail, too.

It's an overload of the best kind. I can imagine drenching her in my seed, but the part I want to see is her massaging it into her skin, rubbing it into her pussy with her own fingers, not wasting a drop.

“Tell me, baby. Where do you want to come?” she asks between licks, this sex goddess, this vixen, this angel.

“I w-wanna come all over you, but I w-want you to put it in your pussy.” I confess in a voice that’s shaking with the effort of not coming that second.

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Libby—” Torturer. Vixen, angel, demon. My tail smacks hard between her thighs and she moans and squeezes my aching balls.

“Tell me why you want to see that.”

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