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Save Point: Learning the Irraowdy Tango

He's definitely the bad guy, but he may not be bad company.

Kilseth was the single most destructive and vicious individual she had ever meet, thought Cleo. He also had a truly enormous cock.

Looking into his strangely charismatic green eyes, she found herself thinking that maybe he wasn't actually so bad. But then, she was still kind of feverish and hotly flushed from the infection, which had to be something unnatural, she thought. It shouldn't even be possible for her to get sick in this way, barring extraordinary circumstances - with a sudden shudder, she recalled the cutting off of her tail, its subsequent restoration, and what came before. Hastily, she repressed the memory firmly to the back of her mind.

But if anything could infect you, whispered a little unheard voice, that would have done it.

She realised that her mind was wandering again and that she was just staring at his cock. She licked her lips, which were feeling a little dry. Not much ballage to go with that huge sheath of his, she considered analytically, but under the circumstances he didn't really need it.

She started to lose her balance a little, just a tiny bit swayed, and Kilseth lowered her gently down so she was lying pressed up against his side. He smiled wordlessly and she caught a hint of truly brilliantly sharp teeth.

She was still wearing the - well, you had to hesitate to call it an outfit - the covering she'd improvised for herself from the wide green straps of the emergency impact landing gear. True the straps and buckles were nice and wide - four-point suspension with two impressive air-bags, she thought to herself - but they kept going sideways, didn't cover much and only the fact that the buckles kept catching on her nipples was holding them in place.

They were hard of course. She took a little gulp of air she didn't really need.

Oh fuck it, she sighed to herself, I have to get laid now. I'll sort out the consequences later.

No words required, he placed her hand up against his sheath. He was wearing a glossy metal ring around the base of it, a sort of body jewellery, and so she stroked it and worked the ring back and forth a little. She could've worn it as a loose-fitting bracelet, but it fit snugly on him.

It was fun but not enough, and so carefully, so as not to startle or scare him with her hunger, she lowered her muzzle and licked at the flared head of his cock which was just starting to emerge from the sheath, caressing the peculiar triangle-flared slit like a cat's bell with her tongue. That definitely got a response. Her mouth kept drying out and so she had to keep vigorously wetting her throat, presumably to considerable erotic effect. She felt really hot now, sweating intensely and her blood pounding loudly in her temples. She didn't care.

Slowly, forced past the ring, his cock slid out and the shaft of it was covered entirely with brutally robust spines, swept backwards for now but likely to have an impressive effect on every withdrawing thrust. The spines meant she couldn't take the full length in her mouth and work it, which she'd normally do, but his firmly engorged glans was plenty large enough and she sucked on him like a hot warm lollipop which tasted ever so slightly of cinnamon. There I go mixing up my pornography and my cookbooks again, she thought. Her ears were feeling hot for some reason, even though she tried flicking them to keep them cool.

After an enjoyable if indeterminate interlude, she realised that the cinnamon had become a little salty, but more importantly, she could feel a slight wetness running down the inside of her thigh where she was rubbing herself up against his leg and her pussy was wide open. She was surprised, in fact, just how much she found herself turned on in this weird situation where neither of them had even said a word. She could always get wet enough for a little fun, had always been able to, but here she was practically drooling at the cunt.

She disengaged her tongue with a gratuitously loving pop and moved herself carefully into position. Kilseth stroked her flushed muzzle and looked directly into her eyes again with that compelling gaze of his.

Breathing carefully, she lowered herself. The head stretched her wide open, and then some more, but she was slick-wet with her own lube and didn't meet the stubborn resistance that would have made it painful. Sure it hurt, but it was a good sort of hurt and she worked her way down onto him with little rhythmic ripples of her hips, trying to work herself as open as possible before she got down to the serious stuff.

Oh sure, she tried, but she couldn't get all the way down, not quite, which left her supported uncomfortably on the huge head of his cock, which was butting firmly up against her insides somewhere deep within her. She tried to place her full seated weight on him, to get it all the way up there, but every time she tried it she flinched and her muscles tightened around him, which didn't help. Reluctantly, she conceded that she'd have to do some fucking first before she could experience his full size.

Kilseth seemed used to this in his mates and tweaked her nipples firmly, distracting her from this little predicament. She rubbed her breasts up against his hands like a sleek little cat, looking for all the physical contact she could get. Then, bracing herself against his chest, she started to move.

The first stroke nearly made her scream. As she pulled out, the spines on his cock splayed radically outward, hooking against her insides and snagging on the inner lips of her pussy, stretching them far from her body before they finally released and started sliding past. It made him even wider, forcing her open, giving her no choice in the matter if she was to pull herself free. Forget being finally knotted, she thought as she sobbed out her arousal, this was climactic from the very start.

After the first few agonising strokes, she started to get the hang of it, and more importantly she was still horny and flushed and desperately hot as all hell. She rode him hard, sobbing and gasping, being nearly torn wide by those horrifying spines. There was no hope of finesse or any sort of style here, just deep and painful fucking until it was done.

Kilseth came first. There wasn't much, but it was deep inside her and warm and sticky and wet, and it greatly eased the hungry longing inside her. Once he wasn't quite so stiff and big, she could ride him better and so she just kept going and he just kept his cock in her. She made him put his hands on her hips, to help support her weight, and it felt good.

When she finally finished, it wasn't quite what she expected. She almost blanked out for a second, found herself swaying backward as her cunt clenched convulsively around only half-relaxed spines. There was a roaring in her head as she gasped and then rode it out, yowling and making little sounds until she slumped.

Kilseth caught her and laid her muzzle to rest against his chest. She quivered, achieving the physical climax she so desperately ached for, but she couldn't quite find that brief moment of respite she really wanted. Perhaps it was just the slight touch of fever she still had. Yes, surely that was it.

The couch was comfortable and Kilseth was unexpectedly kind, but she still felt sort of dazed. They did it several more times, whenever he was ready again. The most satisfying position was with her on her hands and knees, butt facing the couch and tail waving in the air, but she still couldn't escape the feeling that something wasn't quite right. His fucking was incredibly fulfilling but she kept somehow losing herself.

When she came on her hands and knees, he slapped her ass so hard she yelped. Then he pulled out and gently spunked a thick smear of cum along the length of her muzzle. The sheer difference between the two actions both surprised and confused her. When he looked at her, she couldn't help but look away for a second.

Eventually, some mutual degree of understanding or the lack of it established, he picked her up quite easily and carried her upstairs to the nearest bed, piled with pillows. She curled up against him like a child and licked her muzzle, hoping for some more of the taste of him. She was already starting to feel sleepy as they climbed the stairs, and being laid down amidst the comfortable cushions was just too much. She wound herself sinously amongst several of them, rested her head for just a second and was fast asleep in minutes.

Once she was breathing steadily, Kilseth sat himself down in a nearby chair, legs folded up at all angles, and watched her for quite a few minutes.

It was a failure to meet, as he saw it. They were just so very different to one another, in so many ways. He'd thought it would be a triumph, winning her over, fucking her to climax, but they weren't even enemies at a personal level, which might have been enough to connect them. And of course, he was different, even from a normal example of his own species. Words had been used against him in the past that referenced very specific things lacking, a lack of affect, a lack of empathy, but after due consideration he had been forced to conclude that none of them were quite accurate. He was missing something, but what it might be was not exactly what anyone else thought it was.

We are too strange from one another, he thought. After a while he kissed her gently and she murrred in her sleep.

Tomorrow, when she's feeling better, I will teach her the Irraowddy Tango, he decided.