11 Inches
DONNA
Ilean against the door as it shuts, releasing a long blast of air.
My two mugs should be full of rich, steaming coffee, but they're cold and cloudy.
"All good, Donna?"
Is 'good' eleven inches of orc cock having a morning stretch into my roommate? If yes, then... "All is good, Deon."
My eyes flutter to ten restless red toes fanning the air, up to crossed legs, ripples of broad abs, and pause on two hulking slabs of flesh punctured by sharp black nipples. It is not out of lust that I pass my tongue over my lips, but of discomfort. I'm questioning if what I'm seeing is real. It makes me want to drop my cups of black piss and cross my fingers behind my back, hoping he doesn't notice how much I like him this way. Those in my situation would either jump on him or squabble undecipherable words before melting in a pool of their own gushy, emotional self. I'm still looking for something honorable to say while avoiding, at all costs, the stammering or the meek 'Yes, and you?'
Locking his hands behind his head, Deon husks, "Come here, doll. Tell me what's wrong." The color of his talking smirk matching his scruffy, bristly... plentiful, thick, soft hair, yet somehow naturally preened and lustrous like fresh black polish, as if he's a sort of model posing naked for the camera... Yes, the total Monster's Health magazine cover story, titled "How I got to sleep next to an animal girl allergic to sex."
Stop panicking, Donna!
I try to say something that could make sense, but nothing comes to mind.
Even more, as my eye twitches to that oversized chilly-red cock between his legs, still pushing up to the sky. It's hard to divert my gaze because my favorite food is spicy!
"Tell me why you're frowning, girl?" he asks with a not-so-innocent tone.
"Can't you hear?" My back is still plastered against the door as if it could prevent those female roars from sliding through the cracks of this thin, thin door or Deon's mast from bludgeoning my eye.
"Aww."
"Hear what?"
"Are you deaf?" I cock my head dramatically to another row of Ahhs coming from Fay. "Moans!"
"Ah. I bet those neighbors are having a great time." He chuckles. "Maybe we could, too." His hand taps in short, obscene sequences against the side of his thigh, and my glare shoots to his face.
He winks, biting his lower lip, the visual of it sending a legion of goosebumps over my body. And I'm starting to panic as this is often a forerunner of my shifting.
"Deon." I walk to him, determined to break him of the notion with a good wank. "Do you do it deliberately?"
"Do what, babe?"
Babe?
This demon raises his head to me, two shiny black beads smiling as I tower above him, breathing like a bagpipe.
Deon slips a hand under my shorts, and I jump when he clamps it around my upper thigh, his snare knocking the air out of my lungs, shutting my flustered brain down, turning me into a molten hairball of nothing. "Girl, your thighs are the wardrobe to Narmia..."
Trembling grips my mugs. "Narmia? The movie?" My stomach heaves, my top stains with coffee as I quiver from his warmth, his claws sticking into my skin, making me cough awkwardly.
"Yeah. Let me open them and let my third leg walk in..."
"Idiot!" I pull his pointy ear. The charade may end if I rip it off!
Apparently immune to pain, Deon grabs me by the hips, my feet staggering dangerously as my knees hit the bed frame. "Pull harder," he says as I drop over him.
I don't know what to do. Now sprawled over Deon, he doesn't wait for my top to lift. "Am I your idiot?" he rasps, fighting with my grip as I struggle to keep my T-shirt on, coffee surfing over the sheets and us. As for the cups, I just let them go because I need my hands!
I grab his horn. "You little shit. Never miss an opportunity, do you?" I grate, shaking his head like a coconut.
"Can't help it." He may be whining, but his cock is vibrating against my belly, and I'm already shifting like a weakling because every time he touches me, desire can't help bubbling up.
My pajamas tighten until the elastic band of my shorts snaps and my top tears.
"Those moans don't ring your bell?" I growl as I release his head, which drops like a stone onto the pillow.
"No, but you can ring my bells." Deon removes a piece of my shredded purple T-shirt from his face and cups my wolf face. "See? Nothing wrong with this form. Look how gorgeous you are."
Fucking glad to be covered in grizzly hair because my cheeks are burning like two pans on fire!
Would he still think I'm beautiful if I chopped off his throat?
My fangs go into his neck, incensed.
"Fuck, Donna. Bite me."
What?!
I push back and cuff his thigh in one clamp because, yes! I shifted. I drag him off the bed, wings threshing as this demon cat lands on his fours. "Get up. Tyke is back."
"A hand, please."
I look down, Deon extending his arm for a lift.
There's a trap here.
Look at those round, forlorn eyes, his nakedness calling innocence, a tail curving around... my back paw.
I submit to his imploring gaze.
His hand wraps around mine, and as he does, his fingers close over my wrist, claws snapping out as he does.
He tugs me gently enough to let me decide if I want to go down with him. I'm stuck on his fingers and how his nails protracted into claws as he closed his grip over my wrist.
I sit on my knees while Deon stands on his. "Deon..." I grunt to lips brushing against my fur-coated neck.
"One kiss. Just one," he rasps.
"One," I say as I cup his cheeks.
I bring his head up and lick his lips till these turn to laps, and he squeezes me like a fluff toy.
"I need to be touched by you, Donna. You don't understand."
"Stop talking."
As we entwine our tails and I kiss him, I think about how much I wish every morning was like this...
Even the warring ones.