Tale Of Two Kitties

A Tale of Two Kitties

by Aliessa

This is a sexually explicit story. If you're under the age of 18 please get the hell off this page. In addition, I didn't pull a lot of punches in this story. This is sex the way that Taelee and her kitty lover do it. Don't blame me if they squick you.

Thanks --Aliessa--


Most of this is fictitious in order of interactions, but the actual activities done are ones the bodies involved have done and most verbal interactions are things that were probably said at one point or another by the participants in their few interactions. There's sufficient poetic license to make this interesting. One fact left out is the condoms. ;) I've never found using condoms to be sexy. Need to take one of those "making safer sex erotic" classes ;)

Enjoy!

--Aliessa (running off to the back of her mind to be pummeled as soon as this is sent out)


"Taelee," the name rolled off someone's tongue in a mild Irish accent, the familiarity of knowing her behind it was more what caught her attention than the stating of the name itself.

Aliessa *eeped* inwardly, and was shoved aside as the presence filled the shared mind completely. She smiled sweetly, a knowing glint in her eye, and retreated in the mental space to a comfortable watching distance, with a mental well-wishing, couched in teasing overtones.

Taelee ignored Aliessa entirely, fully present and in control of the body now, she shifted the posture to one more comfortable, more *her*. From the upright straight posture of Aliessa, she tilted her head slightly, took on a more languid posture, muscles almost fully relaxed, but her mind completely in control and alert. Her eyes slitted slightly, appraising and watchful, her lips curled into something just short of a sneer.

She turned to analyze her prey from the corner of her eye.

"Taelee?" he asked. She just nodded once, not much for words when less would do. She stretched her arms overhead and flexed her back to the left and right, her eye never once leaving him, at the ready.

He pounced.

She flexed back and downwards and snapped her arms down, he missed her shoulders and found his wrists encircled by her hands.

She grinned, knowingly and toothily. "Hello, Kitty," she drawled, nearly nose-to-nose with him. Her eyes glinted sharply.

He made a play to bite for her neck, but she just twitched again and his mouth met air. She took this opportunity to butt the side of his head with hers, a caress without hands. His look was one of pleasure, he liked this game. He made another play for her momentarily exposed neck, but she dodged to the side, then nipped his cheek.

She squeezed his wrists, digging her nails into them. "Play nice," she commanded, in a throaty voice, almost a growl. The pain in his wrists brought him to his own grin of pleasure, his eyes hard and unyielding for a moment.

She shifted, and overbalanced him, pushing his arms up and back, and putting all her weight into his chest. He was half pushed over, half succumbing and she knelt over him. She grinned, pretending she had won by right of arms, though he weighed almost twice what she did. She shook hair out of her face and grinned ever wider, and dove in to give his neck a brief bite.

He tried to reciprocate but she was gone again, the moment of vulnerability washed across his face before he regained composure, and she felt a wash of pleasure through her blood. She took a moment to savor it coursing through her. She felt his reaction brush between her legs where she straddled him and almost laughed. Instead, she ground her pelvis briefly into it, causing another wash of vulnerability to cross his face, and another course of sweet simple torment to pleasure her.

"Are yew wantin' somethin'?" he asked, which elicited an undignified growl from the elf-panthress on his lap, who made a hasty play to bite him again, and he laughed and swapped the scene:

He yanked his hands upwards, which combined with her dive forward resulted in her being fully pressed against his body, and then he rolled onto his side, a leg coming up to pin hers. She growled ineffectually as he rolled totally on top of her, her arms pinned under one of his hands. He ground his crotch into hers momentarily, then she squirmed, raised a knee into his belly which gave her leverage to push him up so her other leg could gain purchase.

Meanwhile, his hand was up her shirt, twisting her nipple painfully, and she continued to squirm and jockey for a position where she could oust him. The pain didn't help, her urge to submit and bare neck being fought with every ounce of her being. She lifted him on her legs and tumbled him to the side, and she sat up, pushing his hands away.

She recovered some dignity, sitting there, and glared. He laughed.

His name is A., usually hidden behind the eyes of V., the way she and Aliessa were usually hidden behind the eyes of Christina. To her, A. was a gem of delight, though you could never get her to admit to it. She ignored his bodily form and dealt mainly with his energies and trueform, which was a vampiric panther who occasionally shifted into a humanoid form. She also was a shapeshifter, but only suffered the bloodlust that a normal panther might, or the bloodlust of a feral elf perhaps, which was her birthform. Her trueform might actually be able to take him on, she was always an athletic elf, even if thin and wiry. As a panthress, she was just a bundle of pure muscle and willpower.

Looking at him sitting there with his grin, guarded eyes, fangs and teeth, and the energies she had already nurtured with him, made her want him. She wanted to consume him, tear tasty chunks of bloody flesh from him with her teeth and drink the very life out of him. Except he wasn't alive, was he? No matter, there's energy there, something resembling life, which was close enough for her.

Her fangs manifested stronger, she tongued them thoughtfully while watching him. Her sitting there licking her fangs caused another brief wash of vulnerability to cross his face, and she didn't check the urge to pounce, landed squarely on his side, bowling him over again, and gripped a jawful of muscled shoulder in her maw, bit down hard, wanting to feel the grinding of cells bursting under the pressure, wanting to pierce the flesh and feel the sweet flow of blood coat her insides and the sweetsalt on her tongue.

He arched his back, meeting the pain with his own wash of pleasure and gasping, groaned in painfilled pleasure, and growled as the pain reached too far.

Taelee's elfsense took over, and checked her, the panther instincts growled and retreated somewhat, released him, a divoted ring of angry flesh which began to swell and turn red. She snarled aloud, very frustrated to break the contact, but they had not consented to go for blood yet. Channeled the lust to more acceptable outlets and cleared her mind, checked the safeties to make sure they were still engaged.

He was still flooded with his pleasure, so she took advantage of it, nipping and nibbling, nuzzling and butting her head against his neck and face. He would recover in a moment and make a play for her. Should she let him?

Sure, but not without a fight. She grinned to herself.

In but a moment, his hands seized her shoulders roughly, interrupting her thoughts, but prying a growl from her. Her hands came up and cupped his face as he held her a few inches from his face. He kissed her deeply, nibbling her lips, perhaps too hard, sucking hard, he opened his throat and breathed in, she opened hers and let him, this pleasure he enjoyed, perhaps some portion of his vampiric nature, to steal her breath. Someone in the back of her head tells her that there are tales of such things from supernatural creatures, but she ignores it. She stops him well short of taking it all...and he reciprocates...she breathes in from him.

It's a different energy, tough for her to digest, she wads it together in a corner of the mental landscape to leak in slowly, and gets back to playing, he tries for another kiss, she dodges, he grunts appreciatively.

She reaches down to his waist, and undoes his belt, this garners another look of vulnerability from him. She extracts his dick from its unfortunate prison, and grins up at him, licking her fangs. It swells in appreciation, and she grins wider, sliding down his body, his hands limp on her shoulders.

She takes his dick in her mouth, slowly savors the smoothness of it with her tongue, then she bites him firmly, and his back arches with a moan. She laughs to herself, showing only a grin as she goes further down and licks his balls. He gasps in anticipation as she rolls one then the other ball with her tongue, then sucks in wrinkled flesh which cringes. She bites there, and he gasps and moans and puts his hands on her head. "More," he gasps. She bites him harder, and his breath comes in short bursts. She holds the panther instincts back, bites him harder yet. This gets a vocal growl from him, and she goes back to biting his penis.

Sliding fangs firmly up and down his shaft, digging in occasionally. Aliessa pokes her about not making it her next meal, she wants some left later. Taelee laughs inwardly at her headmate's request. Bites harder yet in farewell, which leaves him with a whimpering moan.

She slides up his body, and his hands fall to her hips, roughly kneading the flesh there, nails digging in, bringing her fire to her lower regions. He pushes her and she fights, but he grapples her to the ground, his eyes hard and gleaming, no more vulnerability in them. This time it's her turn, and she's on her belly on the ground.

He straddles her back...leans down to whisper in her ear, "Is THIS how you like it?" bares her shoulder and sinks his teeth into it. Her willpower trembles and threatens to submit, she arches her neck further into the bite, her hips rise to meet the thrust of his dick wanting no clothes between them. He grunts and bites harder yet, and she still struggles not to submit, an internal battle of her willpower and her desire to feel him sliding in and out of her.

A. sits up somewhat, and pushes her shirt up, over her shoulders. She rises enough to allow him to take it off her. In a moment, he comes back down for another bite, his naked chest on her back sends a rush of warmth to her cunt. The bite comes, hard, painful, automatically channeled to pleasure on her panther aspect's account, the elf has to start giving way or admit to being in too much pain, and both aspects are too stubborn for that.

His nails rake her sides as he lays on her biting her, and she gasps and growls, rhythmically pushing her hips up into his dick which still thrusts against her. Every pain brings her closer to being fully panthress, which brings her closer to tearing her own clothes off and submitting to him.

As if on cue: "Wouldn't ya rather take these off?" He tugs at her pants. She grunts, barely able to have a coherent thought, Aliessa steals control of the head to nod for her. Someone inside laughs at the mental interplay, Aliessa getting off on this at least as much as Taelee. But what do you expect from a dryad? These activities would easily break the nymph, but getting them through Taelee's reality filter made this a garden of delight for the internal voyeur.

He lifts his weight from her, and she rolls over, face up for a few, while he removes her jeans and underwear. She studies the look in his eyes, he's about as ready as ever, too. Then he pushes her naked body over, and she easily resumes the belly-down position...he just laughs at her, removes his remaining clothes, and paints long strands of angry pink down her back with his claws. She arches her back and snarls, shaking her head back and forth to deal with the pain, instinctually baring neck at him.

He bites her on the ass, hard. She growls, and moves up against his face. She can sense his amusement and feels undignified but helpless to overcome the instincts which say this is *right*. He bites her hip, the muscles in the small of her back, her midsection, her upperback, her shoulder, the back of her neck, and her remaining will breaks when his dick, hard and ready, falls into the valley of her legs and nestles at the entrance to her begging pussy.

She thrusts upwards and wiggles, settling it at the moist opening, coating the head of his penis with her juices. He has something else to say in his vaguely Irish accent, but she doesn't comprehend it. He thrusts forward a tiny bit, biting her shoulder again, which results in a thrust upwards from her, and his dick is on it's way into her.

Having one's instinctual urges met is a singularly intoxicating experience, and she is blinded in her animal urges and lusts, thrusting back against him and him plunging forward into her. She is growling and grunting and trying to bite at his arms which are all of him which she can reach, he is latched onto her shoulder, biting her very hard, perhaps attempting to feed from her.

She jostles him from her shoulder with a shove of her head, snarls at him, while still backing up against his relentless thrusts, riding the waves of pain from his bite, and fulfillment and pleasure from his dick. She bites his arm, which gets him to gasp and moan and growl in her ear, which is nearly enough to send her right over the edge.

He bites her again, growling, right on the back of the neck, very hard. This goes straight to her head, and she plummets into the euphoria of orgasm, her body arching and rhythmically spasming against him with growling gasps as she rides the waves of pleasure. When the orgasm subsides, she collapses panting, no longer thrusting against him, and he thrusts a few more times, she regains her elvish mind, such as it ever was.

"Oh--my---god," she gasps. "Get off!" she pushes upwards.

He laughingly rolls to the side, unspent, his erection bobs in his lap, glistening in her juices. Grinning at her..."So, tell me, was it good fer yew?"

She snarls, and pounces him, lunging for his throat...

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