The Heat's Getting to Me Anonymous 2014/09/20 (Sat) 07:06 No. 36022 ▼ File 141119678094.jpg - (483.76KB, 845x1550 , same time next year.jpg)
Satori Komeiji liked to think of herself as a reasonable person. Straight-laced, professional, composed.
But being the lone receiving mind of the unbridled, crippling lust of roughly fifty-three animal girls in heat was straining, to say the least. Satori once again resisted the urge to shift her thighs, tapping the porcelain of her teacup irritably as the clock ticked second by agonizing second away.
Mind reading, the problem was, didn't just work off of thoughts, fully formed and discrete--I want to go to the park, or the fires sure are hot today, or even I need to have sex right now. No, they also came in hot flashes of impulse and instinct. Base urges and hunger and dripping wet need. Satori wondered dryly whether she would be leaving puddles everywhere she sat, and not for the first time.
Not that she could help it, of course--no more than her pets could. They were living beings, and they had their desires and compulsions, just as much as the most lecherous oni. Could do with one of those here anDAMMIT.
Finally, the doorbell rang bringing with it a thrill of adrenaline and a hopeful expectation. Satori sprang up to receive her long-awaited guest, trying to drive out the constant bombardment of her animals' ever-present, omnidirectional sex compulsion.
In came the visitor, as expected, and--despite the feeling to the contrary--over half an hour early. Inwardly she sighed in relief. Outwardly, she resumed the affectation she had met him with each mating season for the past five years. Aloof. Professional. Distant. Helping this was a complete lack of thoughts from him--not that he didn't have them, but that they were drowned out by the endless bombardment of the season. She nodded at him wordlessly, before turning crisply on her heel to present her rear for hNO and marching back into the dining room she had been lurking miserably in for the last week and a half.
"Thank you for arriving so promptly," she said stiffly, motioning to the seat at the head of the table and briefly considering sitting on his lap as she returned to her own, across it. Each measured step echoed on the marble tile and further drove home the image she had carefully sculpted and maintained. Distance. Her fingers idly brushed the smooth wooden tabletop, the barest physical contact sending sparks up her nerve endings as her chemise suddenly felt a size too tight until she reached her chair and sat back, staring across the table's long, hardBAD length.
"Hey, no problem," he said. "So, ah, I assume your next line is 'let's dispense with the pleasantries?'"
"And get down to business," she agreed. Good. "My terms are as they have been, and I shall repeat them as they stand." Clearing her throat, she took a deep breath through her nose and her inhumanly sharp senses carried the scent of his cologne to her clear across the room and began.
"'I, Satori Komeiji, having penned this agreement while healthy of body and sound of mind, hereby provide explicit consent to Osamu Nobori for any sexual activity within the Palace (or on its surrounding property) for the duration of the youkai mating season of the Ancient City of Oni (and its surrounding environs in the Gensokyo Underground). I testify that this agreement, tendered in writing, was penned and agreed to by both parties and will be recited as written yearly at the commencement of the aforestated season. This document has been read and ratified by the presiding authority of the City and will be reviewed no less often than every other year for the duration of the agreement. Any changes to said agreement must be agreed to by both parties outside of the mating season and with a City magistrate presiding to ratify any and all changes made.'" Perfectly recited, as always, from memory, as she forced down the piano string tightness of the sinews over her collarbone, the thud of her heart against her ribcage. Looking up at her ... partner, she discretely steadied herself against the edge of the table where she had fought down the urge to grind her crotch hundreds of times and asked the final, most pressing oh please press me, press me-- question. "Do you agree to the terms as stated?"
Nobori nodded. "I do."
Relief and arousal spread through Satori, as she checked the urge to sigh loudly. "Then, if you're ready...?"
"I do want to ask you something, though," he said.
Satori froze up, her heart seizing as she struggled not to betray anything outwardly. "...And that is?" she managed, after a moment.
"Why don't you just cut loose?"
Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the table. "I beg your pardon?"
"Come on. We've done this for years. Five of them. And even the first time, I could tell. You're holding yourself back."
"I assure you," she lied, "there is absolutely nothing..."
"Come on," Nobori insisted. "You try to keep everyone distant, but we've both been..." he paused, fishing for a word while she watched his lips purse and longed for them on herCONTROL. "Close. Close enough that--I mean, come on, Satori, look at you!"
Satori did look at herself, her reflection panting back at her in the stained glass. She was almost bent over the table, clutching the edge for support, her modest chest rising and falling, her cheeks as rosey as the red pieces in the window. She needed this. She needed this. Who was she fooling? Not even herself, any more. Satori always valued self-awareness, and tried, even in the hormonal maelstrom, to center herself and find why she was so adamant about remaining so glacial.
Embarrassment. Embarrassment over who might see her. Perhaps not so much what they thought of her--she had walked enough streets full of drunken, lusty oni to be mentally undressed and ravished more than a few times--but still, there was a barrier, one she dimly remembered throwing up herself when she was a newcomer to the Underground, and a mind-reader met only suspicion and hostility.
"Satori? I'm not trying to pressure you. If you don't want to, we can just go to the..." She silenced him with a raised hand, gathering her thoughts and preparing a response. She let her severity slip and fall away as her scowl lightened, and she gave him the warmest smile she could muster that didn't cross into a lecherous grin. His thoughts--earnest, sincere, concerned--and dirty, so dirty--drove into her brain like nails, spikes of direct thought punching through the foggy directionless haze of lust that had blanketed her home like a red mist.
"I appreciate that," Satori replied, "but I could never put a collar on me and fill me with your babies!"
All other sound died away in the wake of the blurt. Satori clapped a hand over her mouth, mortified, the flush in her cheeks rising into cherry red embers as Nobori's eyes widened, possibly even more shocked than she.
Did she..."Did she really just..."
Oh, fuck it.
"...You heard me," Satori panted, feeling the last barrier between the world and her psyche crumble, a strange calm washing over her. "Fuck me. Fuck me."
Still taken aback, a blush matching her own in his cheeks, Nobori tried to muster a response. "I, uh--the bedroom is--"
Satori wasn't in the bedroom. Satori was right here, right now, in the moment. And right now, in the moment, Satori was in the dining room. Satori was crawling onto the table. Satori was topless, her shirt sailing over her mate's head. Satori was free.
He caught on quick. Satori kicked her shoes off frantically as his wonderful, strong hands lifted her slender rear off the table and slipped her skirt off. She tore at her panties, the fabric straining and finally yielding with a loud rip, going the way of Satori's reservations as she struggled and writhed and fought to be completely naked.
Her bra clasp came undone roughly the same time she managed to flail her last sock free, and he climbed atop her, letting her tilt her head back and shiver in giddy, needful excitement. She looked down over herself, already shining with sweat, the soft patch of pink hair between her legs already matted with arousal. She met his eyes again as his trousers came down, and this time, there was nothing between them, no obstacles. She smiled grandly, feeling like an empress and a dirty, lascivious, glorious whore as she felt his tip, blazing hot, rub against her slit. She bit her lower lip and closed her eyes in eager anticipation, waiting... and waiting... and waiting what the HELL--
In her, on her, in her, on her, she needed both and he was giving her neither. Her fault, she realized--even lining up to penetrate her, she had spent the last five years insisting they go about it as clinically as was (in)humanly possible. He fumbled awkwardly, trying to minimize physical contact, despite their single point of contact being the dirtiest thing possible. So, being the reasonable sort she was, Satori promptly grabbed him by the lapels and hauled him down on top of herself.
"Come on," she insisted, feeling her skin tingle with the heat of his breath. "Do what you've wanted to do to me all these years."
He paused again. "...Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure," she huffed, exasperated with how ... civil he was being. "Whatever you do, don't hold b--"
With his lips to hers, his tongue ransacking her mouth, holding back was officially off the table and they were on it. Satori gave a throaty moan and pushed back, eyes rolling back at the sudden, rough move. Much better. She groped somewhere southwards for his dick, found it, and once again pushed it to where it needed to go.
The instant it parted her, Nobori bucked his hips, driving into Satori's soaking insides to the hilt. She spasmed, toes scrunching hard as she wrapped her legs around him.
Finally.
A thought, and it wasn't hers. She opened her eyes at the tickle of his breath on her chest, an instant before he gently nipped her breast, drawing a pleasant little shock.
Gods, she's so cute.
Another feeling started to push its way through the pheromone haze--dimly, Satori realized that she'd had a small climax on penetration. Not enough--not nearly enough--but the endless drone of fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck was reduced to a slightly duller sort of roar. Enough that a more intimate thought could squeeze its way from his mind into hers. It came with the warm bubbly glow of genuine fondness, the kind a mind-reader only got from coming home to a room full of loving animal friends. When they weren't hungry, anyway.
Lucidity slowly crept into the room, as lust grudgingly turned to let it pass. The need was gone. The last four years, this had been roughly where Satori had sent her poor partner home. She could feel other thoughts, common sense, and even that miserable embarrassment coming back to her. Yes, the need was gone.
The desire, though...
She pushed herself back against Nobori, her hand finding itself on his face. She tilted his chin, gently lifting his eyes to meet hers.
Oh gods her eyes are intense. Somewhere in there she felt his impulse to stiffen his pelvic muscles, trying not to cum just from her gaze. She felt a cat-like smirk growing at that.
"Think at me a little more," she hummed, stroking his cheek.
Oh, right. She suppressed a giggle at the momentary panic in his brainwaves.
"Don't force it," she offered. "Just..." She gestured down at herself. "Let it flow. In the meantime..." she gave a sultry grin and shifted her hips, grinding on him. He grunted, pulling back from her nape to steady himself.
Does your previous offer still stand? he asked/thought, carefully, precisely--directly.
"Of course," Satori replied. She only had a brief flash of intent as warning before he abruptly flipped her over, earning a half-surprised shriek, thought and action only a fraction of a second apart.
Then I'm going to pound your prim little ass silly, he roared in her head. She gave an undignified, delighted squeal as he slammed back into her from behind. Somewhere in the shuffle she'd slid halfway off the table and now was rather thoroughly enjoying being bent over it, up on tiptoe as each slap of his body against her backside sent thuds through the floor and shudders through her body. She tried to pull herself up, slipped, and fell flat across the surface. Nobori's weight pressed down against her, pinning her against the wood as his movements grew shorter and faster. The porcelain teacups clacked their disapproval in their saucers from either end of the room, loudly counting each thrust.
Another flash of intent and a lurch as he upended her again, twisting her over on the table, one leg in his hand and the other dangling over the side. Satori looked up at him as he entered again with an impish grin, hair matted with sweat. "What, can't decide where you want me?"
Nobori replied by lifting her by the leg and giving her a light, sharp swat across the rear. She jumped with another pleased squeak, feeling her walls clench around him from the sudden sting.
"Oh, no," he replied, "I know exactly where I want you." Taking her other leg, he raised them both over her head, giving Satori a flash of her own pale thighs (drenched in sweat and sex, of course). Taking a moment to catch his breath, he gently kissed her ankle. She wiggled her toes, sighing in pleasure at the sudden tenderness of the gesture. Their eyes met again and he gave her a handsome, tired grin.
You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this to you.
"The spanking, or the ankle, or..." Satori's glib remark stifled in her throat as she caught another wave of fondness and warmth radiating off Nobori. "...Oh."
He started moving again, slowly leaning back over until they were chest to chest. Those, too. Satori purred, wrapping a hand around the back of his head and pulling him closer.
"I have a question for you, now," she said. "Why are you holding back?"
"Holding back? I, er..." Really don't want to have to stop oh damn it I thought it.
She burst out laughing at that. "I've been terrible, haven't I? Tossing you out as soon as I could."
Terrible? He thought. No, not terrible, just... okay, maybe a little terrible, yes.
Satori's hand moved down his back, admiring the strong, tense muscle as she traced his form. "This time, we can keep going," she murmured.
Really? Okay! The results were instantaneous, as he abruptly pushed one knee up on the table beside her and thrust down into her, fast and hard. Satori's wry quip turned into a strangled cry in her throat as he made good on his promise to pound her silly, the wet slap of flesh on flesh bounding off the walls as he drove her further and further over.
She came first again, the release passing over her in an intense ripple. It started deep inside her and surged out from her middle, her stomach tightening, legs stretching, toes curling. Her back arched as he worked a hand under her ass and pulled her up against himself as tightly as he could, even as electric shocks ran through her sensitive chest. Her head and eyes tilted back, as she gave her loudest gasp yet. His followed soon after, her pussy clamping down hard on his shaft. Satori enjoyed a cascade of primal sensation through his mind as she felt each contraction of her climax push him to his own. Satori's gasp became a formless cry as she was racked by an orgasm in stereo. She felt the hot pulses of his feeling match the ones inside her, as his length twitched and jumped with each spurt of cum. Nobori's body, taut with exertion and strain, finally relaxed as he collapsed atop her, the last aftershocks of their orgasms running their course.
They lay there together for who knows how long, catching their breath and enjoying one another's heartbeats until the room and the puddle of sex they were mingling on grew cold. Nobori tried to move and Satori realized he'd managed to get himself tangled up in the vessels of her third eye during the festivities. She met his gaze again and both began to break out into happy, tired giggles. She ran her fingers through his hair, letting herself float along on the hot-air current of the afterglow. The warmth and fondness radiating from Nobori were like a sunbeam to tumble through, and she felt almost drunk on it.
Nobori, surrendering to the impossibility of extricating himself from the snarl of tubes, idly (and gently) twirled one of them between his fingers, even as he let his other hand rest on her backside. He gave it a gentle squeeze, massaging away the faint redness where he had smacked it. Satori gave a pleased coo and let her own free hand wander down to play with his still half-hard penis.
"So what did you mean, you were waiting for this?" she asked, enjoying the feeling of rolling his member in her slender fingertips.
He frowned. "Well, it's... kind of hard to explain."
"Think on it," she suggested, touching her forehead to his.
Sure enough, there were those fleeting feelings, thoughts, and images. A bored, lonely life, idling away on the surface. Moving job to job, sleeping behind the docks. No house, no real money, just time and labor. Orin's coquettish smirk, and a message from a Ms. Komeiji about some unusual work. Orin trying not to laugh each time he stumbled on the rocks down into Gensokyo's underground. A fantastic city. An opulent mansion.
Satori.
Beautiful.
She smiled at him, feeling his skin heat up as he blushed at the intimate thought being bared. "It's okay," she assured, already resolving to ask him to stay a few days, maybe a month. "Osamu--Nabori." Shifting around to sit on top of him, she rested his hardening shaft between her thighs, sitting back on her knees as she straddled him.
"Let's get to know each other better."