The canopy swallowed her whole.
Ai Ino rose through layers of green on wings that still felt new, each beat pulling her higher through branches that parted around her body like curtains drawn aside by invisible hands. Humid air slid across bare iridescent skin, warm and thick. Below her the clearing shrank to a bright wound in the jungle floor, then vanished entirely behind overlapping leaves.
She could still feel him.
Not physically. The ache between her legs where his clothed bulge had pressed against her, that faded quickly enough. What remained was something deeper. A hollow carved behind her sternum that pulsed with every wingbeat, raw and wanting, shaped exactly like the outline of Haibu Mori.
His hands. His rough, scarred hands on my skin. Gripping my hips. Pulling me onto his cock until I split open around him.
The thought hit her mid-flight and she nearly lost altitude, her wings stuttering as slick heat bloomed fresh between her thighs. Nectar dripped from her swollen folds and fell in glistening threads through the canopy below, catching the light before vanishing into green shadow.
She steadied herself. Kept climbing.
Ahead, three butterfly women flew in loose formation, their massive wings casting rippling shadows across the canopy surface. Two of them carried cargo. Satoshi hung limp in one creature's arms, his spent cock still half-hard against his thigh, cum drying in streaks across his stomach. Hiroshi dangled from the other, blonde hair swaying with each wingbeat, jaw slack and eyes showing nothing but rolled-back white.
Males. Breeding stock. Seed.
The words surfaced in Ai's mind with crystalline certainty, carrying weight and importance that felt encoded into her bones. She watched the unconscious boys sway beneath their captors and felt her pussy clench with sympathetic hunger. Those cocks had pumped so much cum already. Thick and hot and white, spilling from stretched holes in quantities that glazed iridescent thighs and pooled in the grass.
But they weren't the ones she wanted.
Haibu.
His name tasted like honey on her tongue. She mouthed it silently as she flew, lips shaping the syllables whilst her wings carried her deeper into the island's interior. The jungle below transformed as they traveled, shifting from the relatively sparse crash-zone vegetation into something denser, trees with trunks wider than houses and roots that formed cathedral arches above ground level. Flowers she had no names for bloomed in clusters of electric blue and deep violet, their petals gaping open like mouths.
I want him inside me. Want to feel his cock stretch me open for the first time. Want him to pin me down and breed me until his cum leaks from every hole.
Ai shivered. Her nipples ached, stiff and dark against the swell of her breasts, the humid air teasing them with each shift of wind generated by her own wings. She reached up and cupped one heavy breast, rolling the nipple between iridescent fingers, moaning softly as pleasure arced through her transformed body.
She tried to remember the first time she saw him.
The memory should have been vivid. Foundational. The kind of moment that anchors a crush into permanence, the specific angle of light, the exact words spoken, the way her stomach had flipped or her breath caught or her cheeks burned. Every girl remembered the moment. It was supposed to be indelible.
Ai found nothing.
She searched harder. Rifled through mental filing cabinets that felt oddly sparse, like someone had removed folders and left only the labels behind. Haibu Mori. Class 2-B. Quiet. Outdoorsy. Beautiful.
But when? When had she first noticed him? Had he spoken to her in the hallway? Sat near her during assembly? Crossed her path on a hiking trail?
Nothing.
The absence felt wrong. Like pressing her tongue into the socket of a missing tooth. She knew the information should exist but the space where it belonged sat empty, smooth and featureless as polished stone.
It doesn't matter when. I love him. I've always loved him.
The conviction rose unbidden, absolute and unshakeable, filling the gap where memory should have lived. She loved Haibu Mori the way she knew gravity pulled downward, the way she knew these wings would carry her, the way she knew the sky above the canopy was blue even though she couldn't see it through the leaves.
I want his seed so badly. Want him to cum inside me until it overflows. Want to feel it dripping down my thighs while he's still hard, still fucking me, still using my body like I was made for him.
Her hand slid from her breast down the flat plane of her stomach, fingers tracing the line of her hip before dipping between legs that spread wider in mid-flight. She found herself soaking. Not just wet but dripping, her folds puffy and engorged, clit throbbing under her fingertip with each pulse of her heartbeat. She stroked through the mess slowly, biting her black-lacquered lip as her wings wobbled.
Think. What did he do that made you fall for him?
She pulled at the threads. Tried to recall a specific conversation. A shared joke. A moment where their eyes met across the classroom and something electric passed between them. The hiking club had meetings every Thursday. He would have been there, right? She would have noticed him there, appreciated the way he moved through terrain with that quiet animal confidence. He had to be a member how else would she have fallen for him.
But she couldn't place him at a single meeting.
Couldn't hear his voice saying her name.
Couldn't picture his face from any angle except the one burned into her mind from thirty minutes ago: brown eyes wide, jaw tight, sweat beading on sun-tanned skin whilst she pressed her naked body against his and begged him to fuck her.
We didn't interact much at school.
The thought arrived without fanfare. Flat. Factual. She turned it over in her mind like a stone found on a riverbank. Smooth and unremarkable on the surface, but something about its weight felt significant.
They hadn't talked. Hadn't shared classes beyond the general ones. Hadn't crossed paths at club activities. Haibu Mori existed in her pre-transformation memories as a peripheral figure, background noise in the daily rhythm of school life. She knew his name. Knew his face. Knew he was one of the quieter rich kid who disappeared overseas during holidays with his father.
That was it.
That was everything she had.
But I love him.
The words blazed through her mind like scripture, drowning out the confusion with their sheer intensity. Her pussy clenched hard around nothing, desperate and empty, craving something thick and hot and pulsing to fill the void.
I love him. I love his cock. I love the way he smelled when I pressed against him, sweat and jungle earth, with something underneath that made my whole body scream. I love the way his bulge felt against my pussy through his trousers, so hard, so big, so ready even though his face said no.
She moaned aloud. The sound carried through the canopy in that resonant frequency her new vocal cords produced, vibrating leaves and startling a flock of birds from a nearby tree. The butterfly women ahead of her glanced back with their solid iridescent eyes but didn't slow. Their course held steady, angled toward something deeper in the island's heart that called to them through instinct Ai didn't fully understand yet.
His cock inside me. His hands bruising my hips. His breath hot against the back of my neck while he takes me from behind. His cum painting my insides white while I scream his name into the dirt.
She was close. Just from her own fingers and the thought of him. Her wings beat erratically as pleasure built in tight spiraling waves centered on the swollen bud beneath her fingertip. Nectar ran freely down her inner thighs and dripped from between her spread legs, falling through the canopy in a rain of arousal that caught sunlight and glittered like liquid crystal.
I know I love him like I know the sky is blue.
The orgasm crested without warning. Ai's wings locked open as her entire body seized, back arching in midair whilst her pussy clenched in violent rhythmic pulses around nothing, around emptiness, around the phantom shape of a cock that should have been there but wasn't. Her scream tore through the jungle in a resonant wave that scattered wildlife and shook water from broad leaves. Her fingers kept working, rubbing her clit through the peak whilst her free hand clawed at her own breast hard enough to leave marks on iridescent skin.
It wasn't enough.
The orgasm passed through her and left the hollow bigger. Hungrier. The empty space behind her sternum hadn't shrunk. It had expanded, fed by climax rather than satisfied by it. Her body wanted more. Needed more. Needed him.
Haibu. Haibu. Haibu.
His name pounded through her skull in rhythm with her heartbeat as she recovered altitude and fell back into formation with the other butterfly women. Her thighs glistened. Her wings still trembled with aftershocks. Below her the jungle stretched in every direction, an endless sea of green hiding the boy she loved for reasons she couldn't name, couldn't remember, couldn't trace back to any single moment or word or glance.
She loved him anyway.
Ai was brought out of her thoughts as she noticed the shift before she understood it. The butterfly women's flight patterns changed, their wide disciplined spacing compressing inward as the three unencumbered ones drifted closer to the two carrying cargo. Their wings beat in languid, unhurried strokes. Their solid iridescent eyes fixed on the limp male bodies dangling beneath their sisters with an intensity that had nothing to do with navigation.
The first one broke formation entirely.
She banked left and descended beneath the butterfly woman carrying Satoshi, rolling onto her back in midair so her massive wings caught updrafts from below. Her dark hair streamed behind her like ink poured into water. From this inverted position she floated upward, face-first, until her black-lacquered lips hovered centimeters from Satoshi's soft cock where it lay against his thigh.
Her tongue emerged.
That impossible appendage, glossy and dark, unfurled from between her lips in a slow wet spiral that had to be thirty centimeters long. The tapered tip traced a line from the base of Satoshi's shaft to the head, painting a glistening trail of saliva across pale skin. She repeated the motion. Again. Again. Each stroke deliberate and worshipful, coating him in warm spit until his cock gleamed in the filtered jungle light.
He was unconscious. His head lolled against the shoulder of the butterfly woman holding him, eyes closed, mouth slack, face still carrying the glazed aftermath of whatever the pheromone dust had done to his nervous system. But his body responded. Blood filled the tissue in slow increments as that long tongue wrapped around his shaft in a coiling grip and squeezed gently, massaging him from root to tip.
Satoshi's cock rose to full hardness in the grip of that tongue. Thick and flushed, veins standing out beneath skin stretched taut by arousal his conscious mind had no part in.
The butterfly woman beneath him made a sound. Low and resonant, vibrating through her chest and into the tongue coiled around his length. She pressed her lips to the swollen head and kissed it, slow and open-mouthed, her tongue unwinding just enough to let the tip of his cock push past her lips before she sucked it deeper. Her cheeks hollowed. Her throat worked. She took him to the root with the ease of a creature designed for exactly this purpose, her nose pressing against his pelvis while her tongue continued its impossible coiling motion around the shaft buried in her throat.
The butterfly woman carrying Satoshi adjusted her grip. She pulled his limp body tighter against her chest, his back pressing into breasts that deformed around him, dark nipples dragging across his shoulder blades. Her own tongue emerged and began its slow exploration of his body. She licked a wet stripe up the side of his neck. Traced the shell of his ear. Dragged the flat of that impossibly long muscle across his collarbone and down his chest, circling one nipple before sliding lower across his stomach, leaving trails of glistening saliva that caught the green-filtered light.
Two tongues on one body. One buried in his cock, one mapping his skin. Satoshi groaned in his sleep, a low animal sound that carried no awareness behind it.
The remaining two unencumbered butterfly women had already descended on Hiroshi.
They flanked him from either side, their wings brushing against each other as they pressed close. One cupped his soft cock in both iridescent hands and lifted it to her mouth, kissing the head with parted black lips while her companion licked a slow wet line from his hip bone down to his inner thigh. They worked in tandem. The first one sucked the head of his cock into her mouth and nursed at it with rhythmic pulls while the second dragged her tongue across his balls, lifting each one gently with the tip before letting it fall.
Hiroshi's cock stiffened faster than Satoshi's had. It surged to full size within seconds, the blonde boy's hips twitching involuntarily as the butterfly woman swallowed him whole. His pompadour had collapsed during the ordeal in the clearing, blonde hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, and now the butterfly woman holding him combed her fingers through it almost tenderly while her tongue painted wet circles across his chest.
She licked his jaw. Kissed the corner of his unconscious mouth. Her tongue pushed between his slack lips and explored the interior with the same thorough attention her sisters gave his cock below.
Both boys were fully hard now. Their cocks glistened with spit and stood rigid even in unconsciousness, twitching each time a tongue found a sensitive spot. The butterfly women servicing them moaned around their mouthfuls, the vibrations pulling fresh groans from bodies that couldn't resist what was happening to them.
Ai watched all of it.
She flew behind the formation with her hands clenched at her sides, fingers still sticky with her own nectar, and ached. Her dark amber eyes tracked every stroke of tongue across skin, every bob of a head swallowing cock, every glistening thread of saliva that connected black lips to flushed shafts when the butterfly women pulled back to breathe. She watched Satoshi's thick cock disappear down a throat that rippled around it. Watched Hiroshi's hips buck weakly as two tongues worked him from both sides.
Her own tongue pressed against the back of her teeth.
That should be Haibu.
Her fingers unclenched and found her own body again, pressing between slick folds as she flew, rubbing small desperate circles around her clit. The image crystallized behind her eyes with painful clarity. Haibu's brown eyes, his sun-tanned skin, his scarred knuckles fisted in her hair while she took him into her throat and showed him what her new tongue could do.
I want to taste him. Want to feel him throb against my tongue. Want to swallow every drop.
Go back then.
The thought crystallized between wingbeats, sharp and immediate as Ai's wings shifted, angling her body southward toward the distant clearing where she'd left him. The jungle canopy scrolled beneath her in an unbroken carpet of green, and somewhere under that carpet Haibu Mori stood breathing and alive and hard, she'd felt him through his trousers, felt the rigid outline of his cock pressing against the wet heat of her bare pussy when she'd ground herself into his lap. He'd wanted her. His body had screamed yes even while his mouth shaped words that meant nothing.
She could be quick about it.
Drop through the canopy. Find him before he moved. Wrap her arms around his chest and lift him into the sky before any of them could react. Mutsumi and her clever hands and that fucking body spray couldn't aim at something already fifty meters overhead and climbing. Ai's new body was fast. Strong. Built for seizing what it needed from the world below.
Take him. Pin him down on the highest branch you can find. Ride his cock until your legs give out. Make him fill you up.
Her wings completed the turn. She faced south now, the formation of butterfly women receding behind her, and for three full wingbeats she flew toward him with every cell in her transformed body singing yes.
Then she remembered the fire.
Not the sight of it. The feeling. Heat that bypassed her iridescent skin and reached something fundamental beneath it, something woven into the architecture of her wings that recognized flame the way a nerve recognized a blade. The body spray had produced a tongue of orange no longer than her forearm, but the terror it carved through her chest had been absolute. Primal. Encoded into whatever she'd become at a level deeper than thought.
Her sisters had scattered from it like leaves from a gust.
Every one of them. Five butterfly women with skin hard enough to shatter steel, reduced to panicked flight by a burst of aerosol and a lighter. They'd abandoned their prey. Dropped their catches. Fled with a speed that made their usual languid flight look like crawling.
She'll have more. She's smart. She'll make more fire.
Ai's wings faltered. She hung in the humid air for a long suspended moment, facing south, every fiber of her body straining toward the boy she couldn't reach. Her pussy throbbed with such desperate emptiness that she whimpered aloud, the sound carrying through the canopy in that new resonant frequency.
She turned back north.
Fell into formation behind her sisters with her jaw clenched and her thighs slick and her heart hammering against ribs that felt too small to contain it.
Another chance. There will be another chance.
Below and ahead of her, the butterfly women continued their aerial feast with unhurried devotion.
The one swallowing Satoshi's cock had found her rhythm. Her head bobbed in long fluid strokes, taking him from tip to root with each descent, her throat bulging visibly around his girth each time she buried her nose against his pelvis. Satoshi's hips jerked in his sleep. His cock pulsed and she pulled back just far enough for thick ropes of cum to flood her mouth, white spilling from the corners of her black lips and dripping down her chin in heavy threads. She swallowed what she could. The rest painted her breasts in pearlescent streaks as it fell.
She didn't stop. Kept sucking. Kept coiling that long tongue around his oversensitive shaft until he hardened again within minutes, his unconscious body producing what his conscious mind would have begged her to stop extracting.
Hiroshi fared no better. The two butterfly women servicing him had developed a rotation. One would take his cock deep into her throat whilst the other lapped at his balls with broad flat strokes, then they'd switch, passing his spit-slick shaft between their mouths like something shared and savored. He came twice during the flight, each orgasm announced by a full-body shudder and a groan that sounded pulled from somewhere primal. His cum painted iridescent faces in thick white stripes that the butterfly women licked from each other's skin with obvious relish.
Then Ai saw it.
The trees parted around a clearing that shouldn't have existed this deep in the wilderness. At its center stood a Shinto shrine, ancient and weathered, its vermillion torii gate strangled by vines thick as a man's torso. Stone lanterns lined a path choked with moss. The main hall's roof had partially collapsed under the weight of centuries, but the structure held, its dark interior gaping like an open mouth.
The butterfly women descended.
They spiraled down through the gap in the canopy in a lazy helix, wings catching the dim light that penetrated this deep. The ones carrying Satoshi and Hiroshi landed first, their feet touching the moss-covered stone at the base of the shrine steps with surprising delicacy. The others followed, still attached to their respective cocks, still sucking, still coiling those impossible tongues around shafts that had been milked raw during the flight.
They collapsed together at the foot of the shrine in a heap of wings and limbs and glistening skin. The butterfly women pulled the two boys down with them, arranging unconscious bodies amongst spread thighs and heavy breasts with the casual possessiveness of creatures settling into a nest.
Ai landed apart from them. Her bare feet pressed into cool moss as her wings folded upward behind her shoulders.
She stared south through the trees.
Haibu.
The butterfly women had barely settled before their tongues found flesh again.
One rolled Satoshi onto his back across the moss, straddling his face with iridescent thighs while her sister positioned herself between his legs and swallowed his cock in a single smooth descent. Hiroshi disappeared beneath two bodies that pressed against him from either side, their breasts squashing against his ribs as dual tongues competed for access to his shaft, coiling around each other in wet spirals as they fought over his swollen head.
"That is quite enough."
The voice drifted from the shrine's dark entrance like incense smoke. Soft. Composed. Carrying an authority that had nothing to do with volume and everything to do with certainty. Each syllable landed with the weight of a temple bell struck once and left to resonate.
The butterfly women froze.
Every tongue retracted. Every hand lifted. Five pairs of solid iridescent eyes turned toward the shrine steps with an expression Ai could only describe as reverence.
A figure emerged from the shadows of the collapsed main hall.
She was not like the others.
Where the butterfly women wore nothing but their own iridescent skin, this one was dressed, though the word felt generous for what the fabric actually concealed. She wore a Shinto priestess outfit that had been reimagined by something deeply profane. The white kosode hung open past her collarbones, the fabric so sheer it functioned less as clothing and more as suggestion, doing nothing to hide the enormous breasts it barely contained. Each one heavy and full, straining against the translucent material, dark nipples visible through the gossamer weave, pressing outward in stiff peaks that created small tents in the fabric with every breath. The red hakama rode criminally low on hips so wide they seemed to challenge the garment's structural integrity, the waistband sitting below her navel and exposing a strip of smooth pale skin between the hem of the kosode and the pleated fabric. The hakama's legs had been slit up both sides to the hip bone, revealing the full sweep of thick thighs with each step she took down the moss-covered stone stairs. Her feet were bare.
Massive white moth wings spread from her shoulder blades in a broad graceful span, layered and translucent, veined with patterns of pale gray that caught the filtered light. A collar of dense, plush fur encircled her neck and upper chest, soft and white, contrasting with the smooth skin it framed. Her long black hair fell past her waist in waves that transitioned to feathery textures at the tips. Her large brown eyes held a luminous, reflective quality, serene and faintly amused as she surveyed the scene at the foot of her shrine.
The butterfly women whined. Actual whines, high-pitched and keening, their wings fluttering in agitation as they pulled reluctantly away from the unconscious boys. One of them kept her hand wrapped around Satoshi's cock until the moth woman's gaze settled on her specifically, at which point she released him and folded her hands in her lap with the sulking obedience of a scolded child.
Those luminous brown eyes swept from the butterfly women to the two spent males, taking in the cum-glazed skin and the slick trails of saliva and nectar coating their bodies.
"Where did you find these two?"
The question carried genuine curiosity beneath its composure. Her gaze shifted and found Ai standing apart from the group, wings folded upward, amber eyes still fixed south through the trees.
"There was a plane." Ai's voice sounded strange in her own ears. Resonant. Harmonic. The words vibrated in her chest before leaving her mouth. "A big metal one. It crashed on the south side of the island. These two were in the group of survivors we found near the wreckage."
The moth woman's expression shifted. Something quick and unreadable passed across her delicate features as Ai described the crash, the way the aircraft had spiraled down through the sky with its fuselage torn open. When Ai mentioned something pulling a student through the hull mid-flight, the moth woman's serene composure cracked for a fraction of a second. Her luminous eyes widened. Her lips parted. The plush fur at her collar bristled.
She recovered quickly. Drew a breath that lifted those enormous breasts against the sheer kosode and released it in a measured exhale.
"I understand." She descended the final step and crossed the moss toward Ai with footsteps that made no sound. "You are welcome among us, little sister." A warm hand cupped Ai's cheek. "Take these males inside. Place them with the others."
Two butterfly women rose without protest and lifted Satoshi and Hiroshi from the moss, carrying them up the stone steps and into the shrine's dark interior with the care of priestesses bearing offerings.
"There are more," Ai blurted. The words tumbled out of her before she could shape them. "More survivors. More males. And there's one..." Her voice dropped, thickening with need. "This really cute one. Brown eyes. Sun-tanned skin. Scarred hands. I need to get him. I need to bring him back here. I need his cock so badly I can't think straight."
The moth woman smiled. The expression transformed her serene face into something patient, knowing.
"All in good time."
Ai's wings drooped. A moan escaped her throat, long and wounded, the sound of a body denied what it craved most. Her thighs pressed together and fresh nectar dripped from between them onto the moss.
The moth woman watched this display with eyes that lost some of their composure. Her gaze dropped to the nectar trailing down Ai's inner thighs, tracked the glistening thread as it caught the light. Her tongue pressed against the back of her teeth.
She stepped closer.
"Poor thing," she murmured, her voice dropping to a register that vibrated against Ai's skin. "You're aching."
Her hand slid down from Ai's cheek. Traced the curve of her neck. Dragged fingertips across her collarbone and down between her breasts, following the center line of her body with deliberate slowness. Ai's breath hitched. Her wings trembled, spreading open involuntarily as those fingers crossed the flat of her stomach and continued their descent.
The moth woman's hand cupped her mound. Warm palm pressing against swollen, soaking flesh. Ai's hips bucked forward into the contact, a desperate sound ripping from her chest.
Fingers parted slick folds with practiced ease. Two slender digits sank into the wet heat of Ai's pussy, curling upward against the spongy spot inside, and Ai's knees nearly buckled. The moth woman caught her with her free arm, pulling Ai against her body so that those massive breasts crushed together through sheer fabric and bare iridescent skin.
"Let me take the edge off," she whispered into Ai's ear, her thumb finding the swollen bud of her clit and pressing down in a slow firm circle.
The moth woman's fingers moved inside her with the patience of ritual. Slow, curling strokes that found the sensitive ridge along Ai's front wall and pressed into it with deliberate precision, each push timed to the rhythmic circle of her thumb against Ai's clit. Ai's wings shuddered open to their full span, teal veins catching the dim green light as her body arched into the touch.
"This boy," the moth woman murmured against the shell of Ai's ear, breath warm and carrying the faint sweetness of nectar. "Tell me about him. The one who has you dripping all over my shrine grounds."
Ai's amber eyes flared bright. The iridescent depth in them caught fire, prismatic rings expanding outward from her pupils as her mouth opened and words poured out like water breaking through a dam.
"He's beautiful." Her hips rolled forward, grinding her soaking pussy against those skilled fingers. "His skin has this color, like he's been standing in sunlight his whole life. Golden-brown. Not like a tan you get from lying on a beach, it's deeper than that, it's lived in."
The moth woman added a third finger. Ai gasped, her walls stretching to accommodate the intrusion, clenching down around the digits as they pushed deeper.
"His hair falls over his forehead and he never pushes it back. Dark. Messy. Like he doesn't own a mirror and doesn't care." Ai's hands found the moth woman's shoulders and gripped hard enough to dimple the soft skin beneath the sheer kosode. "And his eyes. God, his eyes. They're this deep brown that looks black until the light catches them, and then you see everything in there, all this quiet steadiness, like nothing in the world could knock him off balance."
"Mmm." The moth woman twisted her wrist. Her fingers corkscrewed inside Ai's clenching heat, the wet sounds of penetration filling the clearing alongside Ai's fractured breathing. "What else?"
"He has this scar." Ai's hips bucked harder now, fucking herself onto those fingers with increasing urgency. "On his knuckle. Just one thin white line across the skin. I wanted to put my mouth on it. I wanted to lick it. I wanted to feel it drag across my skin while he grabbed my face and made me look at him."
Her voice pitched higher. Nectar ran freely down the moth woman's wrist and forearm, pooling in the crease of her elbow before dripping onto the moss below.
"He's lean but strong. You can see it in how he moves. Like a hunter. Like something that watches from the treeline and decides when to strike." Ai's wings beat once, twice, lifting her feet briefly from the ground before the moth woman's free arm pulled her back down. "He's quiet. He doesn't talk unless it matters. He just watches with those brown eyes and you can feel him paying attention to everything."
"A quiet one." The moth woman's thumb pressed harder against Ai's clit, grinding the swollen nub in tight circles that made Ai's thighs tremble. "What does he like? What makes him laugh?"
Ai's mouth opened. Closed. Her brow furrowed as her hips continued their desperate rhythm against those pumping fingers.
"He... he goes places. With his father. Outdoors stuff. Hiking, I think. Fishing." The words came slower now, each one pulled from shallower water. "He's rich but he doesn't act like it. He wears practical clothes. Worn boots."
"And what else?"
"He's... he..."
The moth woman's lips curved against Ai's ear. "You don't know much about him, do you, little sister?"
"I know enough." Ai's voice cracked on the word. Her pussy clenched desperately around the three fingers buried inside her, walls fluttering in pre-orgasmic spasms. "I know his hands are rough. I know his jaw gets tight when he's trying not to react. I know the way his cock felt against me through his clothes, so hard, so thick, so ready for me."
Her hips slammed forward. The moth woman matched her pace, fingers pumping faster now, the obscene wet slapping of palm against soaked flesh echoing off the ancient stone of the shrine.
"Haibu." Ai's eyes glazed over, the iridescent rings expanding until they nearly swallowed the amber. "Haibu. Haibu."
His name became the only word left. She chanted it with each thrust, each circle of that thumb, each pulse of pleasure building toward the peak. Her fingers dug into the moth woman's shoulders. Her wings locked fully open, trembling, the membranes vibrating at a frequency that hummed through the clearing.
"Haibu, Haibu, Hai..."
The moth woman sealed her mouth over Ai's.
Soft black-lacquered lips captured the final syllable and swallowed it whole. Her tongue slid into Ai's mouth, not the impossibly long appendage the butterfly women deployed, but something warmer, more human, curling against Ai's tongue in a deep slow kiss that stole what remained of her coherent thought.
Ai came apart.
Her scream died inside the moth woman's mouth as her pussy clamped down on those three fingers in violent rhythmic contractions. Clear fluid gushed from around the digits in forceful spurts that soaked the moss beneath them, spraying against the moth woman's wrist and forearm and splattering across the hem of her red hakama in dark wet patches. Ai's body convulsed, hips jerking, wings snapping open and shut in spasmodic beats that sent gusts of wind through the clearing and scattered dead leaves from the shrine steps. A second gush followed the first, then a third, each one weaker but no less desperate, nectar running in rivers down both their thighs.
The moth woman held her through it. Kissed her until the convulsions slowed to tremors, then pulled back just enough for Ai's head to fall forward onto the massive swell of her breasts. Ai's cheek pressed into soft flesh barely contained by sheer white fabric, the moth woman's heartbeat thumping steadily against her ear.
Fingers combed through Ai's ponytail. Slow, rhythmic strokes that smoothed the light brown hair from root to tip.
"Don't worry you're safe here," the moth woman whispered. "Everything will be fine. We take care of our own."
Ai nuzzled deeper into the warmth of those breasts, her wings folding down against her back in slow exhausted increments. Her breathing steadied. The trembling in her thighs faded to occasional twitches.
"Thank you, Toki."
The name left her lips with the softness of prayer. Her amber eyes drifted closed.
Those luminous brown eyes looked down at the girl nestled against her chest. The serene expression held steady, but beneath it something calculated turned behind the warmth like gears hidden inside a temple bell.
"Now then." Her fingers continued their soothing rhythm through Ai's hair. "Tell me everything about this Haibu."