Le Pew Magnifique
A famously seductive skunk takes an evening off chasing kitties to put on a show, for you, and for himself. ^^
This story was written for Silvergatomon as part of my patreon request days for November. It contains M/Solo sexual acts involving an adult male. :3
Le Pew Magnifique
"Good evening, mon ami..."
I sidle into frame, knowing full well that the camera is watching and yet acting as though the presence of an audience is both a surprise and yet simply a delightful coincidence, a matter of no consequence whatsoever. Already naked, I can imagine their eyes roaming all over me. Plumbing the depths of my black fur coat, wishing they could run their hands, their tongues over the white fluff that paints me. I stand side on, letting them take in my full majesty. My lush tail as it flicks from side to side, my manhood as it rises, throbbing, to full stature, pink and flushed with desire. Only one thing remains hidden from them. Only one part of this whole process remains a secret for me alone to enjoy. The mirror. The sheet of reflective glass positioned directly behind the camera, wide and tall, framing the entire space in which I like to play, ensuring that at any given moment I can look over and see myself, no matter what position I may find myself in.
They don't need to know about the mirror, though. They don't need to know that when I look to the camera, I'm not looking at them. When I talk, I'm not talking to them. When I touch myself, I'm not thinking of them.
Though, why would they think I would be thinking of them? I confess, I find it hard to conceive why anyone wouldn't assume I was thinking of myself. Admiring, delighting in my own flesh. They have seen me, after all. How could they think I would possibly desire anything, anyone else?
An armchair sits in the centre of the camera's frame, and I settle down into its embrace, flinging my legs up over the arms and allowing my tail to drape down before me like the train of a luxurious gown. I glance up, beyond the camera, and in the mirror's reflection see my body reflected back at me. My cock protruding hungrily upward, twitching and already glistening as my pre begins to run down its length, and my asshole on display, puckered, pink and spotlessly clean. My toes flex and wriggle, so cute, so delectable. I moan longingly, murmuring to myself as I glance momentarily at the camera, teasing my audience into believing that I might be asking them for what I long to grant myself alone.
"Would you not give your life for a chance to suckle upon me? My toes. My cock. You would be blessed to touch your lips to any part of me."
I shiver as my paws flex and my toes wiggle teasingly before my gaze. With a louder, hungrier groan of shameless desire I reach out beyond the limits of the chair to the small table that sits at its side. My reflected self reaches down too, and gropes around amidst the many toys that lie loose upon that table. Dildos. Plugs. Vibrators. Sleeves. So many ways to satisfy myself. So many ways to grant this beautiful body of mine the pleasure that it deserves. To think, I used to waste so much time chasing after that temptress of a cat. Looking back now, I can only laugh. Of course I saw her as a skunk, for deep down I already knew that there was only one creature I craved. Only one form that could possibly appeal to my deepest desires. The very form I inhabit.
Pulling a bottle of lube up into my embrace, cradling it tenderly for a moment or two as I fumble with the cap, I soon render two fingers slick and glistening. Shamelessly I press them between my legs, against my exposed and eagerly waiting backside. My back arches. My tail fluffs up to its most bountiful and glorious extent, and a ragged, joyous grunt escapes my lips as those digits push inside and begin to stretch, to stimulate, but most importantly to lubricate me in preparation for what I know I need.
"Do you know how lucky you are, to be here to watch this? To experience every second of this?"
I ask the question, and just as I am sure a hundred viewers or more answer it in their own minds, so too do I answer myself in the mirror. God, yes. I know exactly how lucky I am, and I call out, cry out in desperate longing as my fingers pop out of me once more with a wet slurping. My asshole glistens now, ever more appealing, ever more alluring, making my cock throb, my fuzzy balls ache with the need to be drained. Soon, I promise myself. Very, very soon. But first, I grab the bottle of lube once again. I pluck a toy, a wired egg vibrator from the table alongside it, and I douse it in the slick substance along with my fingers once again. Hurriedly, giddily I press it to my rear. I use my two already practised fingers to work it in. To press it deeper, and deeper, and... my free hand seeks out the controls, and before I can even get it to where I want it to rest throughout all that will follow, I can't resist turning it on.
Before I hear the dull, distant buzzing of the vibrator's motor kicking into gear within me, I feel it. An intense, soul-shaking buzzing so very, very close to my prostate. I can already feel the stimulation crashing into that sweet spot through my inner walls, and as I whimper and arch my back within the chair, thrusting my twitching cock skyward, I press my fingers just the slightest bit deeper and feel them rolling that now humming, potently active vibrator into position as close as it can get to directly stimulating that most sensitive of areas. Soon the fingers withdraw, tempted as I am to just leave them in, but the toy remains. Locked inside me, held in place by my own clutching back passage as the stimulation goes on and on. I turn up the power, and wail in ecstasy. I turn it up more, and my vision blurs. I stare at the mirror, shameless now, not caring if the camera and the people watching through it know that I'm not thinking of them; not caring if they realise I'm barely even aware of their presence any more. I see myself blurred by my own lust, eyes heavy, muzzle hanging open, tongue out, the most deliciously drunken grin upon my face. God, I'm hot.
"Make yourself cum..."
I beg to my reflection, though it will no doubt serve my audience just as well.
"M-make yourself cum for me... now."
I half plead, half command myself, knowing full well already that I intend to obey without question. And sure enough, I do so. My head bows forward. My body wriggles and squirms into a better position within the armchair, legs still lewdly spread over the arms, tail still hanging down, twitching and trembling in lust. My back arches. I loom over myself, maw wide open, panting, drooling in anticipation. The vibrator buzzing in my ass, hammering my prostate with intense sensation makes my cock twitch and drool all the more liberally, and in turn makes it all the more delectable a mouthful when, moaning and grunting in shamelessly greedy anticipation, I take myself into my muzzle and begin to lovingly, greedily suckle upon my own cock.
After that, I'm aware only of the pleasure. Of the act itself as it occurs. I don't think about the camera. I don't pay any heed to the mirror, for the reflection of myself, beautiful as he is, cannot compare to the sensations I am provoking in my own body. I hump against my own face. I lift my legs and wrap my arms around them, granting myself even more additional leverage for bobbing upon my own cock and fucking my panting, gurgling muzzle. I can feel the toy buzzing inside of me, adding its own impact to the already incredible sensation of my tongue lashing and twisting around my pulsing cock, but in a way even that intense pleasure is born of a distraction. Something other than my own body itself, which is all I want, all I crave in that moment.
Some people, some men in particular take pride in how long it takes them to cum. How long they can draw it out for, make the pleasure last as it builds up. But me? I want to cum as fast as possible. I want my body to know how desperately mad it drives me, and how irresistible I find myself when subjected to my own deeply erotic touches. After what can't be more than a minute I'm drooling pre-cum over my tongue in such liberal quantities that I can feel trickles escaping out of the corners of my mouth, intermingled of course with my own saliva. A little longer and I'm gurgling, huffing, shuddering as my toes curl and my whole body trembles, my maw no longer bobbing up and down upon my cock but pressed to the hilt around it, focused solely upon licking and suckling upon every last inch of the length, feeling my head twitch and throb as it barely grazes the back of my throat, the perfect fit within my hungry muzzle.
I feel my ass clenching and flexing around the little wire that leads from the toy to its base unit outside of myself. I feel my tail twitching more sharply and violently, thrashing around as my toes flex and splay out at the ends of legs that quiver and kick uncontrollably. Muscles strain all over my body as I whimper, whine and beg in inaudible murmurs around my throbbing cock. For a moment, just a moment my eyes flutter open, and I see myself peering at my mirror's reflection, admiring the near divine beauty as I watch myself becoming utterly lost in my own pleasure, my own ecstasy. I see my beautiful face, and in that moment I know... I absolutely know that I cannot let this moment pass without ensuring that such a beautiful visage is given the treatment it deserves.
I pull my head away from my cock with a howl of joy. I wrap a trembling hand around my glistening erection, and I pump it once, twice, three times in rapid succession before finally with my muzzle open, my eyes half-closed and a constant, desperate cry of joy bursting forth from deep in my chest I begin to cum, and to paint my face with copious strings of thick, warm, ever so potent seed. It feels incredible. Not just cumming, but feeling the cum hit my face. Knowing that I have done this to myself, driven myself to such ecstasy, and knowing that I am able at last to reward myself physically, viscerally for that gift. Every wave of pleasure redoubles my joy as it lashes my face with yet more of my cum, and in those same incredible moments every spurt and drop of my cum to hit my face increases the pleasure accompanying the next thick, potent shot over and over again.
It took less than two minutes for me to make myself cum from the moment I took my cock into my maw, and though a part of me wished the feelings could have lasted longer when they began to abate, the regret is only fleeting. After all, I know that in fifteen minutes, twenty at the most, I will be ready to go again. And I will. I will go long into the night, for as long as I can. For as long as it takes for my body to be drained of all energy, drained of every drop of cum. I deserve that pleasure. I deserve that satisfaction, that joy, that intense, devoted attention. How could a creature so beautiful as myself not deserve it?
For now though, until my body is ready once again, I lie there in my chair with the vibrator still humming against my ass, milking a final few drops of cum from me thanks to its continued attack on my prostate, leaving my cock dribbling even as it begins to soften. I wriggle, I whimper, I gasp, but I don't turn it off. I enjoy the intensity, the over-stimulation, reminding me of what I have experienced and what I will soon feel again. And my audience, still watching through the camera, no doubt enjoys it too.
I glance to the camera, though my gaze soon shifts to the mirror behind it, and I smile at myself. So pretty. So beautiful. So weary and yet still so eager. My already snowy white face is streaked with new flecks and dribbles of white; blushing, grinning, still panting as I recover from that incredible orgasm, and await my body's readiness for the next.
Some might say that's all, folks at times like this. Other stars might turn off their camera until they were ready to go again, or save the rest of their fun for private, off-camera time. But not me.
I don't want to move. I don't want to change this beautiful view of mine for anything in the world. And while I don't really mind whether I'm being watched or not... I feel it's generous, it's kind of me to let people see me do these things to myself. To fantasise, to believe that one day maybe they might be lucky enough to be with a creature with a fraction of the charisma, the beauty, the raw sexual appeal that I possess.
Let them watch me rest. Let them watch me cum. Let them watch, and let them believe that when I look at myself in the mirror with such hunger, such love and joy and rapture, that I might just be thinking of them.
Let them lust after me. Let them fall in love with me, as well they should.
After all, I am gorgeous.
I am spectacular.
I am Monsieur le Pew. C'est magnifique!
By Jeeves
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