Page 119 of Right Next Door
This wasn’t lovemaking. This wasn’t even sex. This was fucking. Primal, brutal, and harsh. They weren’t here to have a good time. They weren’t even having an intimate moment. This was a beast trying to breed his bitch, as quickly as possible.
He came first with a roaring growl. But he didn’t stop or slow. His movements, if anything, became more frantic. Her thigh began to burn at the angle he was holding it up, but when she tried to turn, to relieve the ache on her inner thigh, his blunted claws dug into her hip.
He turned her the rest of the way, so she was on her knees, her upper body on her forearms, as he continued rutting into her without a single missed thrust. She tried to push herself up, but he didn’t allow that either, putting a hand to the center of her back, keeping her head down, ass up, open to him as he came for a second time.
Her dress was still on. Her shoes were still on. Aside from her shredded panties, she was still fully dressed and, if she lowered her skirt, no one would even be able to tell those were gone. In contrast, her furry lover was totally nude, completely out of his mind, and fucking her with an edge of desperation that a rational mind couldn’t recreate.
The harsh contrast between them in this moment made her whimper as her orgasm rushed over her like the slow, powerful encroaching of the tide. Sweeping over her body as she shivered under his harsh grasp, helpless to do anything but take what he gave her.
When he came for the third time, she cried out as she did the same.
But it wasn’t over. He grabbed her by the elbows and jerked her arms back, using them as a handle to continue pushing her body. Their combined fluids leaking out of her each time he pulled out. The wet, slapping of their bodies a lewd rhythmic drum beat to his rut.
And that was just the beginning of it.
Misty very quickly lost track of time, of his orgasms, of hers. She was aware of his grip tugging and ripping at her clothing so, at some point, the loose and broken dress eventually came off her body, but he didn’t stop.
He didn’t seem capable of stopping.
Even when she was too exhausted to move, he continued on. When she passed out, she awakened to find him between her legs, lapping at her lazily. Which only continued until he caught her gaze over her battered pussy. Then, seeing that she was awake, he climbed back over her and pushed inside despite her weak whimpers.
Tsok was completely gone mentally. The beast that had taken his place cared about one thing and one thing only.
And Misty kind of loved it.
Though she got weaker and more tired the longer it went on, whenever she had the strength, she was reaching for him in turn. She wasn’t aware of Tsok sleeping or eating at all. Though the chiming of the door did herald the arrival of a very simple meal with water every so often, she lost track of when or how often those arrived.
In what was possibly the only mark of his sanity left in him, Tsok would bring her the food. He’d feed her from his hands and make sure she drank all the water. Though he didn’t partake himself, he would give her the time and space she needed to recharge and, more importantly, rehydrate.
But the moment she was done, he was pushing her over whatever piece of furniture was nearby – most often the bed, but the couch, an end table, the ottoman, and The General’s cat tree also got caught up in it as well.
Her cat was spending their rut in his own room. Which was a good thing, because neither of them were in any state of mind to look out for him. Tsok was locked in on one thing, and it was all Misty could do to try to hold on and keep up.
Something that got progressively harder as Tsok got increasingly bigger.
Misty woke up at one point, her back against her headboard, Tsok groaning between her legs, lapping eagerly at her overstimulated clit, when she first noticed it. The fact that her legs had to spread wider to fit around his broader shoulders. That his hands were closed entirely over the width of her hips. That his tongue was longer, reaching deeper. When he noticed she was awake and he came up over her, resting her butt on his thighs, to start fucking her again, she had to look up higher.
His growth spurt hit hard and the large, saber toothed beast that pounded her sore body was almost too big to handle. If her pussy wasn’t constantly wet by both his and her orgasms, she didn’t think she’d be able to take his larger cock.
Because, of course, that got bigger too. She certainly wasn’t upset about it, butfuck, she was getting too sore to take him.
Yet, somehow, she wanted to. She still held onto him, not asking for even a moment of reprieve, as he mated her into a stupor.
She couldn’t guess how long they were sequestered like that. Alternating between fucking, eating, fucking, sleeping, and fucking again. She passed out at random intervals, woke just as randomly, and lost her mind to the painful pleasure of his rut between those dark moments. It was glorious and messy and exhausting.
At some point, however, she woke to find Tsok between her thighs – not unusual at all. He wasn’t licking at her anymore, however.
Instead, he was sleeping.
His head was resting against her inner thigh, his heated breaths blown out against her sore, gaping pussy that was still steadily leaking him. He didn’t care about that however, and he didn’t even move when she shakily reached down to touch his head.
After so many times, it was strange not to see him pop up immediately. Kind of a disappointment, even as her body protested the very idea of taking anymore. Her back was sore, her butt was sore, her pussy wasso fuckingsore. She had no regrets though. She enjoyed every second of it.
But he was sleeping now. Like the dead, not even responding when she brushed her fingers over his ears. The past few days caught up with him all at once.
Misty laid her head back down, breathing hard just from the effort of picking it up in the first place.
She didn’t remember falling asleep again, but she was aware when she woke up that Tsok was moving between her thighs. Something warm and wet was brushing her gently down there, and she thought for a moment that maybe she had imagined things. Maybe she’d only dreamed he was asleep. Or maybe he did take naps during his rut, and she just hadn’t seen the other ones.
