"Fuuhh, ahhhnghh, ahh...~! Ahh, ahhh...! It's so big...~ W-What is this...? Hnghh, ahngh, ah, ahh, ah, ahhh!"
Tilde's moans tore out of her throat, raw and ragged, echoing across the open yard. The sounds were wet and hungry, the kind of moaning that said she'd stopped worrying about getting caught a long time ago. It was slipping toward winter, and already some beastkin were feeling heat under their fur despite the chill, sneaking to fuck behind closed doors. But we were out here, naked and open, making a scene. Not that I cared.
I kept driving into her, feeling that hot, tight grip—her hole clamping and releasing with every inch of my dick. The tiny beads of flesh along her inner walls rubbed and rolled against me, each ridge stroking in rhythm so that every thrust sent a spike of pleasure up my spine. It got to the point where everything else blurred and all I could focus on was the slick pressure around my cock.
