“Mmhm. Oh. Don’t go into the bedroom.”
“Why?”
The sheets are covered in fluff. I have to—”
I dash past Lennox, pushing my way up the stairs. I know what he has to do. He has to shake out the sheets, launder them, vacuum more... But I don’t want him to do any of that. I want to flop on the bed and roll around on them like an excitable puppy—or the sensory slut that I am.
God, if Lennox was in bed with me, letting me have every inch of his new, smooth, silky body while I was cushioned in a nest of his soft down...
“Is it gross to make love on your sheddings?” I ask, already stripping out of my black leggings and the new black tee with the Claire’s Cakes logo on it.
“What? No! I mean... Not tome, I used to line my nest with my... Oh. Um. Hi.”
“Good. Not to me, either.” I toss the last piece of clothing in the hamper and shake out my hair, loving the way Lennox’s mouth hangs open, even after months together.
I press my naked body to Lennox’s for a minute before I buzz over to the bathroom. “I’m taking the world’s quickest shower. Stay silky and think naughty thoughts.”
Think naughty thoughts, she says. My Cindy. Naked in my nest.
It’s a cozy, naughty thought that takes away all the weird achey, tingly, prickly feelings I’ve had all day.
My seam aches as my hardness begins to uncurl and protrude, slick, thick, and gray, unspooling and looking to fill her.
Warm, wet Cindy, shivering in the October chill, in need of my wings and “fur” to warm her. Snuggled up to me. Pressed to me. Bodies becoming one.
In moments, I have the thick quilt of molted feathers made into a little dish for her to recline in.
“These are going to get stuck to you,” I call over my shoulder.
“They’ll brush off! And I’m drying off really good before I lie down!” she shouts back.
A little later, I hear the shower stop and the hairdryer blowing. I wince, the sound reminding me of the vacuum I damaged. “Cin, about the vacuum. How do you fix the canister?
My wife-to-be emerges, hair floating free, curves barely concealed by a straining pink towel. “It just occurred to me that you probably never used a vacuum before, huh?”
“When you live outside in the woods, you don’t really need one. And the little cottage that came with the gardener’s job—well, you’ve seen it. A broom was good enough.”
“Well, you’ve done great learning the stove, microwave, and the washer and dryer.” Cindy slowly drops her towel, inch by inch. “The hair dryer. The blender. We’ll work on things like vacuum cleaners and dishwashers later.”
“I can use them, just not fix them,” I murmur, arms wrapping around her.
“How about if you use me? Fix me?” Cindy purrs, rubbing against me, soft middle pointedly brushing my protruding cock before her hands wrap around it, tugging me with her to the bed as if it’s a leash.
Well, I’d follow her anywhere, so that tracks...
“I was sorry I had to get up so early. I tried to wake you, but you were knocked out.”
“Because I’m finally in a place I feel safe,” I say, scooping her up by those luscious cheeks that far overflow my palms. “This nest, this home, this town, with you...” I wrap my wings over her, and our mouths meet, my long tongue curling possessively around hers.
I purr and she sighs, her fingers gently finding my antennae and caressing them, sending shivers running through me. My cock pulses, eager to be safe at home like the rest of me.
Soft, fluffy down under me, a mattress made of a thousand fine, soft feathers, all brushing my skin. As I lay there, bare and soaking for him, Lennox takes one of the longest discarded feathers that he’s shed and runs it up my inner thigh, then traces it over my outer labia. I breathe out hard at the whispering tickle that turns to a desperate urge as he beginsbrushing it over my clit and daring to run it between my plump lips, the tip finding where I’m juiciest.
His hands join the action, rubbing up and down my legs, coming to tease my pussy. His soft hands, coated in blacksetae,make it feel like he’s wearing the silkiest gloves in existence. One finger, thick as a human’s cock, pushes inside of me, and I keen at once, full and unable to decide which sensation I like the best—the feel of his new, slick coat or the thrusts that build inside of me.
My shy mothman plays my body like an expert musician now. One finger dances and curls inside while his tongue unspools and flicks my clit one second, then my nipples the next. I reach for his cock, far too long to fit inside of me as it lies, tapered and ridged, with a thick hump near the base.
“I wanna watch,” I whisper in my most sultry voice. I cup handfuls of feathers and let them fall on my body like black snow.
