Bounty Of Bonds

Chapter 1

Mike rolled his way out of bed. Mostly. Just enough for his front half to hang off. The patterns of his bedside rug offered little to occupy the mind. He was bored. It was a great day outside, judging by the cool breeze through the window, but the fridge was stocked, chores were done, and a field trip somewhere wasn’t so appealing…none of the girls had asked for one, anyway.
He tousled his brown locks with a palm. Lazy days could really suck. All but two of his team were resting in their balls today, so they must’ve been lounging around somewhere in the house. Or nearby. Mike sighed. They already had an idea of where he’d be spending the day, given his lack of plans to share for today. Hopefully Ava didn’t fly too far.

“Roc?”

A pair of white, furry paws in front of him that weren’t on the mat before. If he lifted his head, he’d see the long zigzag border with red fur that all midnight lycanroc had running along their thighs. He hadn’t been prodded with her claws yet, so she hadn’t been standing there too long.

“Hey Mizule.” he murmured.

“Ly-can?”

“Eh, as well as ever,” he replied.

Mike genuinely meant it too, but there was a high chance she’d prod him further—and so she did. Mizule’s paws stepped closer, a flattened growl coming from above. Another uncomfortable reminder of how well his team could take after him. The new standing place of Mizule’s paws made her ankles very convenient to grab, though.

“Rrrrooooc?” She drawled above him, swinging forward at the hip. Her maw now rumbled just behind his head.

Maybe being a bit more callous during their journey would’ve saved him now…revulsion tossed the idea before Mike could blink. Toothy grins and claws of affection were worth it any day, and for that, Mike couldn’t help himself—as much as he’d avoid admitting it. The tradeoff was moments like these.
Get close, be calm, be firm—Mike didn't ever recall repeating that mantra out loud, but here Mizule was, trying it on him. On another day, or even a few hours later, he would’ve been proud of this wonderful companion, but getting ahead of a roc-massage strategy was *much more important.

“I’m fine, really. This is absolutely where I want to be,”—he grabbed her ankles with both hands—”but I haven’t figured the right way to spend it,” Mike assured. He'd caught Mizule slightly off-balance, according to his palms. She wasn’t alarmed, so he waited until her legs felt settled, then added his weight.

Mizule gave a grunt of surprise at his new antic. What was her human up to? A voice in the back of her mind spoke up—she’d be too lucky if that was the case. Abrupt mating would’ve done just fine today, and she could tell the pack after that their Mike was finally in play. He didn’t do abrupt, though, and no matter how much she wished, he’d never take a night without those pesky clothes so she could catch a real bone—

One of the pulls at her legs shifted into a slightly higher spot. Then the other followed, on the other leg. Was he… climbing her? Really?

Mike chuckled at her exasperated yowl. “What, so a bunch of you can climb me as pups, but now I can’t do the same?” he teased.

Spouting lines like that made him feel like his father, something he told himself was still many years off his age, but he couldn’t deny the effectiveness. Mizule huffed, but stayed put, enduring him.

Internally, Mike congratulated himself on her training. Sure, the Elite Four’s 2nd was their insurmountable wall, but each of his girls were their own masterful fighting machines as far as he cared. Even now, his touch revealed the raw strength lurking in Miz’s idle muscles. Her calves were well shaped, tendons healthy. He’d need to move the joints to judge them, but that required getting up from where he was. A half-assed gripe, admittedly, given this ploy would slowly prop himself off the sheets anyways.

Mike fell into the old routine before he knew it, back when their home was mostly a tent. Waking up at odd hours in the morning—he never could do it quite on time—taking his team out, individually or all together, and physically checking their forms. As a fresh trainer, his first attempts were clumsy, the first books he read not quite covering how to avoid pricking fingers on the stones in a rockruff’s unique neck fur. Or how much of said fur was normal to have. But he kept studying, scrounging money from victories and odd jobs for books and workshops in every city he stopped across. Or every pokecenter.

Maybe some of the Joys remembered him. All the effort meant he improved pretty quickly, which also led to saving a ton on potions in the long run from knowing when to heal. Everyone was still getting a spin on the pokecenter machine, though, free or not. Ava usually took the most time on those mornings anyways: a given with all the membrane and wing structure that dragon-bat had. Checking under noibat fluff just to make sure her nutrition was right. Gently spreading her wings, examining the bones and membrane, then all the trials of managing scale and fur on one body…though Mizule held her own in the latter.

She had long clocked the shift in his demeanor, the rhythms getting too careful to be mere play. He began whispering to himself, stoking Mizule’s nostalgia with sounds he never seemed to notice. She’d come to appreciate them, a sign of his dedication to their growth. To hers. Warmth filled her eyes at the man who so easily lost himself for her—all of them, really. Ever fair, ever concerned. When it was just the two of them, she’d taken a loss pretty hard as a rockruff—a loudmouth boy and his growlithe. She’d wanted to show off, prove her worth. She’d lost, and worse, ignored his call—not that they would’ve won anyways, as hindsight proved—and he’d hugged her, encouraged her, and kept up the routine all the same. In light of that, it was impossible to nurse stings of negativity for long, which let something else crawl into its place. Something that'd long been waiting to hold him dear.

“...Take you running…” her human murmured below, just getting past her knee. It was his worst habit, endlessly chasing the best for his team. Now that they were ‘retired’, though they still trained regardless, the displays simply got softer. Less checkups, but they each had their own bed in this home. The halls were bigger to let Ava walk everywhere, freely.

“How’d you like that snack I left for ya anyways? The mart didn’t have the usual, so I improvised a little.” His hazel orbs met hers, smirking. The lycanroc huffed, a bit gloomy that her trainer hadn’t made it far up her thighs…

“Roc.” His smirk widened to a grin. It was part of why she was here, but that was a matter for later. Mike didn’t usually break out of these trances so often. Her paws hooked, nonchalantly, under his shoulders.

“Miz,” he began, “I’m basically flat. There isn’t anywhere for you to pull tha—whoa!”

Mizule certainly had ideas about how to ask. It seemed like she’d showed up to steal some bedspace, with how he’d been upended to lay almost perfectly straight on the other side of the mattress. Mike didn’t mind, though—it was somewhat impressive, firstly, and still better than his previous lying around, secondly.

He looked away from her bouncing mohawk to inspect his ceiling. “Well, hurry up then! Not getting shy, are you?” he teased.

Surely she didn’t just come here to flip him, right? The feeling of distant, shifting foam brought his answer, so he waited it out while she situated herself. This frame was ordered good enough to hold a Noivern, anyways.

“Ly.” Mike looked over. She’d propped up her back on some pillows, and now tapped the space next to her with a paw. He raised an eyebrow.
“Canro, ly lycanroc.” Old favor? He didn’t remember everything they’d done together in the earlier days, but he had just pulled a similar card. She probably wouldn’t try anything more mischievous than he did either. He rolled onto his stomach and soldier-crawled his way over. Mizule smirked, bewildering him more, then patted her stomach.

Mike found himself with a makeshift Lycanroc pillow. It wasn’t half-bad. He turned his head to face her, taking proper note of the sheer fluff going up her chest and torso. The stomach his cheek was on seemed thinner—he could feel her lurking abs, but there was still enough inbetween for it to be much better than lying on a sheet of paper over a grindstone. Mike knew her core was at least that strong. Maybe she‘d relaxed it for him. A smile broke out on his face. If not for those torso-claws, he might’ve gotten a chance to lay on that bountiful tuft instead. Hard to believe a chest was under all that, despite knowing otherwise. Mizule looked amused.

“Isn’t it a bit too early?” he asked her, worming up a hand to performatively scratch his stubble. “I’m pretty sure we only cuddled like this in the old days after sundown.”

“Can?” she replied, cooly. Her paw nudged away his arm to slip lower across his chest. From there, she gently pulled more of him onto her. Mizule pointed to where they’d been with her free paw. ”Ly-y-caaaan,” she began, mimicking his delivery over there, then gestured to them now. “Roc-can.”
Mike snorted. “I wonder if Ava’d agree. You can’t be the only one with a ‘rightful lazy place’,” he quipped. She snorted in response, spraying him in a light mist.

“Agh!” Mike shrieked, wiggling. Her ‘cuddle’ had also served to trap his arms, for which she snickered above. “You and your roc-snot!” he cried, but she only looked to make herself more comfortable.

A masterful way to rub in her successful counter-ploy, he begrudgingly admitted—there was an idea. If he couldn’t leave his ‘pillow’ to clean up, he’d make do. Mike started furiously rubbing both sides of his head on the fur around him. Mizule snickered harder from this, her abs tensing enough for their outlines to feel as distinct to his cheek as his fingertips usually knew.

It was odd to feel nostalgic, tickling his lycanroc’s stomach with his own face, but the warmth of those memories couldn't be overstated. Today was great, too. When had he last checked her core, anyways? A jaw stood no chance of doing a good job, but sweeping over what he could like this was surprisingly calming. Maybe going a bit slower would be even better. Her diet was probably still as balanced as it needed to be, and the scents getting stirred up from her fur were pretty pleasant. Mostly her favored shampoo, but it only served to emphasize the muted hints within that he’d come to know as *hers.

It was good to be this close. In fact, coming home to still full team of 6 felt like a stroll on Cresselia’s rings, but the lycanroc patting his head took precedence. Mike looked over her body again, other matters blurring away. As far as battling was concerned, Mizule had a great body, which probably made her twice as great to her fellow variants. Sure, he was partly responsible for it, but she’d done the work. Countless evenings sparring against rocks, trees, and her own teammates. Running (or flying, in Ava’s case) around routes, trails, and towns.

She’d really come into her own. Nonchalant, but power rolled off her on the field, and seeing what it could do never got old. A perfect specimen, who came by to plant him on her stomach. In the middle of his daydreaming, some drool had been building at the corner of his mouth. Mike only noticed by the time it fell.

Mizule jolted, making a quizzical noise at the droplet soaking through her fur. There was only one person that could come from.
The paw that’d swapped to lazily brushing his hair now settled firmly on his head. Mike found himself shimmied onto her thighs, the lycanroc using her freed hip and stomach to lean directly over him with an oddly focused expression.

Mike’s chest froze, trying to pin down the rest of his mind encouraged by this behavior before his next breath. It’d been a bad time to daydream. She didn’t seem to be annoyed or amused—in her eyes, there was simply…searching.

“I…” Mike found his throat suddenly dry. Why was Miz’ so silent? The paw that’d trapped his arms reappeared on his stomach, pressing and sliding on him over the fabric. Her snout dipped a little closer.

“I, ah…Miz’, a-are you…” Stuttering was bad. Her deep breaths were very audible. The pressure trapping his arms relented, then gingerly reappeared on his stomach—cyclical and shifting. As frozen as he was, something clicked—he knew that pattern she traced on his stomach. A breeze that reminded of the dew each morning, except he always kept focus on where his hands were. Mizule’s stare was solely on him. Her persistent glowing eyes calmed him long before the sunrise.

His logical side of him climbed to the front. Mike could overlook the minor discrepancy in technique—after all, he’d never taught them—but why wait until after they were alone, and this close? His team could battle each other to understand their physical strengths, but he couldn’t clash with any of them and leave unscathed.

Was Mizule doing this to gauge his strength herself? A brilliant idea, and even an interesting window into how pokemon instincts understood him, but it didn’t explain the proximity. Her stare grew heated, and he found his shirt being pulled above his stomach. Her paw returned to its position on his stomach, resuming more directly *on his skin.

His gears were jamming. The...The technique was needed to gauge physical strength and wellness…Is this how it felt? Mike imagined Mizule kneeling instead, the sensation at his stomach in the forest…in countless forests. He’d be lying if he didn’t say he wanted to float into that paw. Strength, and...wellness, which were very appropriate qualities to know for a caregiver. And for a trainer. Indeed.

Mizule’s muzzle lowered to a fist’s length above his, sharing air they never had before. And a mate, his mind added.

The entire time, it’d been nothing but her breathing, her paw’s fur bristling on his stomach, and the breeze rustling the trees outside. He’d taken no real part in this so far, but his mind’s last whisper couldn’t be denied. The weight of it all pooled into him, dripping from the girl above he’d held countless times, and lust caught aflame. She’d already decided, perhaps long ago, based on how they were arranged, and the paw on his stomach was a mere courtesy—

It was like a switch flipped in Mizule. Her expression fell from intense to simmering, a sly smile spanning her jaw. Mike didn’t bother speaking—if she hadn’t seen it, she would’ve smelled where his blood was going—instead raising a hand to scratch behind the ear of this increasingly horny pokemon. Grasping the skull behind it more firmly, he closed the distance.

Mizule pushed her tongue into his mouth with reckless abandon. Mike was ready. To breed. Mike wanted to breed. With her. Mike needed to breed, to breed to breed her and—the paw she’d blindly flung toward his stomach, searching for a waistband to rip, found only more skin. Her arms were certainly long enough to reach one of those. Mizule broke off the kiss to see his pants already discarded, his meat already partially exposed by lowered briefs—her nose twitched.

She inched out her legs from under him, completely locked onto the current prize, then dove for his legs, leaning over his crotch while she wormed enough paw under the elastic to yank the underwear down his legs. In thanks, Mike’s cock promptly slapped her muzzle. She growled in approval, grasping it in a paw while she set to rub every inch of it into her nose.

Meanwhile, her stunt left her lower half comfortably on its side next to Mike. From what little he could see over those hips, her tail was a blur, but more than that, the cunt well within arm’s, or even neck’s, reach was already looking drenched. He spread it with a thumb—or tried to, her lips barely budged!
Incredulous, he stopped to groan as a tongue-bath started on his head, Mizule gripping the base to point it toward her, and lock it against her broad tongue for every pass. His precum didn’t get a moment to live outside the tip. Her muscles rippled under Mike’s palm, returning his gaze to the cunt between her shifting thighs. What about her?

Mike felt, amid the pleasure spearing into him, that he should return in kind. She’d already jumped to mouth stuff, and his hands would be better off spreading her. “Hey!” Mike called, tapping her upper thigh. Mizule turned her head enough to spare him a glance, still lavishing his head, then held it aloft. He immediately turned to his side, to which the lycanroc simply enclosed his length in her mouth and continued.

Mike braced himself against her cunt, breathless, barely aware of the foreign taste smearing his lips. He hadn’t expected this level of readiness. Scrambling against a building climax, he hooked both thumbs just inside either side of her labia, and started a slow, desperate pull. The exertion kept his peak at bay, but then Mizule moaned around his cock, and the vibrations kicked up such an urge to thrust that it almost broke his focus. Even through his thumbs, the echoes of those steel bands doubling as muscles within her were clear. He wasn’t sure how his length would survive in there, but by Palkia’s pinks did he want to see more—and pink she was, pulsating flesh slowly but surely revealed to him. Dogged to stall himself a bit longer, Mike slipped his tongue in, slurping flesh with all his might.

Fresh air met his cock as Mizule popped off in a moment of surprise, the angrily throbbing cock forgotten as she devolved into moaning from the feast between her legs. Fighting her muscles directly was futile, he’d learned, but each squeeze had a delay between each direction he’d be pushed from. Mike learned to roll with it, which had the added effect of redoubling her walls’ efforts to milk his muscle. It sounded as good as it felt. Did it look good too? She pulled her head from between his thighs, placing shaky paws over them as she inched her upper body back to his head. There was only so far that a back could arch, however, and Mizule didn’t dare shift away from the tongue stirring her insides. A low whine started—her disappointment at the act just barely being out of reach, before another idea came. She hooked a paw around her raised leg, gasping, and pulled.

Mike had paid little mind to the panting coming up his torso, instead enjoying the freedom to focus more intently on pleasing her, and then the thigh comfortably above his head pulled away further. Surviving the assault on his dick made it easier to track two things at once, so the breath near his shoulder meant she’d come around to watch.

He tilted his chin up, pressing his tongue deeper while bringing more of her red eye into focus. She looked as frazzled as she sounded—tongue flopping whenever he hit a spot that made her twitch. He aimed for it more, as her squeezes allowed. His neck wouldn’t do too well like this for the long run, but for now, Mizule simply looked so hot. Her one visible eye caught his.

“Lyy-ke,” she breathed. Goosebumps raced up his skin, fingers clenching at her cunt a bit tighter. Not to mention how he’d caught the start of a howl in her tone. His lycanroc was close. Mizule abandoned any more interest in watching, hugging herself more to her thigh so the other paw could slip down to spread her lips further. It had the benefit of freeing one of Mike’s hands, which he then got fumbling for her clit.

“L-Lyyke,” she moaned. Arceus, Ava could’ve been on the other side of that door by now. Miz’ certainly wouldn’t cum quiet. Would she want him, too? His lycanroc was beginning to tremble.

“Ly…Ly! Rrroclyc—Roc lycan! Lycanroc! Lyyke, Ly lycanroc! LYYKE!”

He didn’t think Mizule could harbor such thoughts about him. They’d have a lot of fucking to do after this first time, to which his second head bobbed in approval. Meanwhile, he’d caught her nub, rolling his fingers over it before a few dangerous clamps made him think better. Instead, he swapped his tongue and digits, trusting the latter to brave the assault of her shallows while his tongue relaxed on the button outside.

It didn’t take long, the customary passes with his fingers on her clit more than enough to start her final ascent. Three passes with his tongue instead, with three wriggling fingers in her pinks—any less might’ve been dangerous—and a swirl around the clit to boot, and his Mizule howled.

Mike’s fingers were forced straight as she rode it out. He entertained the idea of licking her nub further, but then the paw on the leg above him slid twice, and survival instincts ultimately won. Instead, he spoke sweet nothings up at the lycanroc cumming her brains out. He wasn’t sure whether she’d catch any of it—how he couldn’t dream of anyone else by his side, how she truly made him feel—but Mike couldn’t help himself.

Mizule beamed when she recovered, pushing him onto his back to align their bodies face-to-face. Her big claw-mohawk flopped above his head, curtaining them in a small shadow. They gazed at each other, and Mike finally realized why he craved her eyes’ morning glow more than the sun. He confessed why, and watched them flare in equal parts of joy and lust. Arceus, he needed her again. They kissed, her paws cradling his head as she pressed as much of her body into him as possible. That chest tuft did feel amazing.

At some point during their cuddling, his tip caught in her folds, and without skipping a beat, they steadied their hips and thrusted, meeting in the middle. Mizule gave herself to the apparent way humans mated—a slow tangle of skin and fur, moaning into the other, and tight embraces—the rhythmic thudding in her core a constant reminder of his love, professed repeatedly to her. She whispered it to him, too, loving the way he throbbed in response.

Eventually, their slow pace built to a crescendo as passions peaked. Mizule rutted herself atop him until climax weakened her legs, and Mike caught her into an embrace as her grasping tunnel pulled him over the edge. Panting, Mizule enjoyed the afterglow atop him for a few moments, then rolled them over, her depths easily holding the still–spasming length inside while she positioned her human…her Mike, her mate, at long last, on top.
Exhausted, their mouths met again. She was really starting to get a taste for this human mouth thing. Tasting his seed would come later, after she made up for all the past time she’d needed it deep inside.

Ava pulled her tail from her sopping wet cunt. It didn’t take her ears to know what’d happened upstairs between the two—the scent that wafted downstairs was more than enough. Her ears did help the imagination though. Their male would finally breed his team, and by her scales could he! She rose on shaky legs, not caring for the mess she’d left. There’d be many more of those now. All around this home. She was next.

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Chapter 2

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Mike sat on the grass, watching his noivern soar. Ava was doing her usual routine, long swathes of gliding, split with random bursts of twists and loops. She’d kept a love of flight from her noibat days, and as much worry as she’d bring him from going too long out of sight, he couldn’t argue against the deftness it’d built in her. Ava made a real beauty of the ordeal, proving time and time again how easily she could handle going solo. In another world, he might’ve fancied asking her to carry him along on one of her journeys, but being so high in the air…

Mike’s fists clenched, snapping blades of grass, and the sound pulled him back to the present. He’d stopped watching her, opting to stare vacantly at the large backyard forest clearing instead. It was perfect for letting out the team, and tracking her above the treeline. He looked to the sky again: squandering this opportunity for the latter felt like a crime to his past self. Ava was in the middle of banking away from him, evening sun tingeing her scales. He found the hue calming. 

Thought came easy in these moments. So much so, Mike would spare a moment whenever he had a lot to mull over. Whether she flew for more than her own enjoyment was unknown to him, but he was grateful for the relative isolation to stew in. Ava probably did have her own matters to think about, as much as he’d sought to tease out her qualms. He hadn’t any other fliers, after all.

Noivern were a curious species, if his touch was anything to go by. As a noibat, she’d been all fluff, so prodding at the wiry frame underneath had been a simple, if a bit ticklish, affair for the girl. After evolving, some parts became scale, so navigating the ‘healthy’ states for 3 different types of ‘skin’ all at the same time was a whole ordeal—but he managed. 

Noivern still needed flexibility in their larger forms, so the scales draping her head, torso, and legs were fine. Passing over them felt like touching smooth glass, malleable depending on which part of the body you were. Hugging her felt amazing, in a different way to his lycanroc.

Mizule offered much less softness beyond her fur, especially when it came to her insides.It brought the memory of spreading her lips to mind…she moaned just as heatedly on the fourth round as when they’d started. She’d held him—held and really kissed him—and in the end it got so intimate that they’d made love for their first time together. 

His longest companion, loving since…Dialga knows when. And now they’d fucked, and, Arceus, he needed her more than he knew. His sheets were a mess now, with one satisfied Lycanroc lying—he chuckled—spread eagle on top. Impulse-buying moomoo milk this week wasn’t so bad a choice, after all: he’d needed the nutrition. 

‘ Making up’ , she’d said, ‘every last drop’. It felt like he’d pumped more into her than what he’d wasted on all his lonely evenings put together, but no pair could go all day, or even a quarter of that, naturally. 

Yet for how wild the later lovemaking got, Mizule’s cuddling is what lingered. Getting hair ruffles from a paw half his head size was…different, but not unpleasant. The grass underneath couldn’t compare to the comfort of a Lycanroc stomach. Or her chest fur. He felt a longing to be back there, now, with her. 

Mike faintly registered the growing form circling toward him.

How would they act together from this point onward? Would Mizule’s teammates mind? Could any of his checkups on her be the same, knowing exactly what those muscles wanted to do? Would she flatten his pelvis every night? Would he grab her legs, fold her on the mattress instead? Could he? What if she went to hang out with the team after a fuck, dripping his cum? What if she specifically put it on display? What if—

A gust to his left, quickly followed by talons crushing the grass. Mike startled—noivern weren’t silent fliers—now would be a terrible time to be compromised. Fortunately, he was downwind, and the pair he’d slapped on were baggy enough to hide his boner from her immediate view. It’d probably drop in a bit. He resisted the urge to check, looking up at his companion instead.

Ava squeaked in greeting, approaching with some bounce in her claws. Must’ve been a good flight. He asked as much, but her reply was noncommittal, coming beside him to prop her wings on the ground and sit. Mike casually traced the veins criss-crossing the membrane between them, which led his eyes further up her wings till they met her neck fur. Their eyes met.

Ava was clearly up to something.

“What’s up, girl?” Mike asked, grinning up at her.

The noivern hunched, making exaggerated glances both ways before leaning conspiratorially toward him. Amused, Mike mirrored her, leaning toward the wing he’d just observed until he thought himself close enough. Ava similarly paused after her head got close enough to fill his vision. Wind rustled the treetops.

“Noi.” Ava chirped.

“Bullshit,” Mike snorted, recoiling. “I come out to watch you all the time!” 

Ava cocked her head, staring critically.

“Yes, not every time, but you know what I mean.”

“Noiv?” She pulled her best ‘inquisitive’ face.

“Listen, we both know how well you can fly.” Mike lifted an accusatory finger. “Don’t think I didn’t see those extra tricks you slipped in there!” Her wing-arms jolted. “A corkscrew both ways? Was lunch extra good?”

“N-noi—NERN!” She shrieked, beating her wings. Mike shielded his eyes with an arm, smiling. Stuttering pokemon were so damn cute. 

There was a sudden chirp, followed by a swift break in the gust she was stirring. Concerned, Mike lowered his arm to see her frozen mid-flap, eyes wide and facing him. Mike turned away, heat in his cheeks. A slip like that should've been easy to play off , but he’d also just fucked a pokemon for the first time...it all felt out-of-sorts.Mike gripped his knees against the off anticipation underlining his turmoil—was a shower not enough to keep his dick at bay?

Ava, on the other claw, recomposed herself and swung toward the treeline. When her ears caught no more movement, she glanced back at him, gingerly lifting the wing dividing them before sidling closer. One step, another glance, then another hurried step, until her leg was close enough to radiate heat into him. No contact yet—her wing would have the most of it, but she held the appendage aloft for now, steeling herself.

“N…oin…” Ava started, straightening her back, and stretching her wing out above him. Her tail slipped around Mike for a low hug over the grass. The man in question missed her latest flub, too busy with his own reddening face. She was only returning the compliment. His recent experiences started coloring it otherwise, adding more meaning he couldn’t be sure of—but Ava was closer than before, much like Miz’. Two in one day…could that really…?

Ava settled into watching her silent trainer. There originally was a plan for all of this. Part of it did involve flying, which helped clear her mind and stretch her body , and then she’d planned to court him, but Mike went and said that, and now they were here . A day ago, he wouldn’t be aware of how that could be taken, how it’d make her feel—but Mizule’d just finished screaming his name raw. Mike could definitely think about fucking pokemon now. She just needed to show him that his Ava wanted her turn in this field before sundown.

He hadn’t shunned the tail. Cautiously, she lowered her wing, pulse quickening, preparing to wrap him in. A pattern of low-pitched clicks started from her jaws in hopes of soothing him, and she mused at the approaching sense of warmth in her wing until it finally cupped him. Mike didn’t flinch or startle. Good. Ava dared to pull further, and felt Mike’s head meet her side, though her wing now partially obscured him from view. Ava peeked at him. Final push.

She ducked her head under the wing, taking in the sight of a human being cradled against her scales. Her mate-to-be was so close to where she needed him, but held his face in his hands. She was starting to itch with need.

“Vern, noi.”

“Good? ...can’t even see that.” Mike mumbled. True, but his hands weren’t there earlier, and she’d seen plenty long before that. Ava leaned firmly into him.

“N…Noivern,” she amended. “Vern.”

Us. Realistically, he knew it was coming at this point, but hearing it said was still entirely different. On top of Mizule this morning, and now tucked under Ava’s wing in the late evening…she really wanted him , too. He couldn’t find any reason within himself to say no, but…

Mike dropped his hands to look her in the eyes—then thought better, lifting them to caress the scales of her jaw. “Ava,” he began. Was this real? Her nuzzling of his palms said it was. “I fucked Mizule earlier today. In more ways than I thought. With more love than I knew.” 

Her knowing look urged him further.

“I haven’t even finished processing all of it. I want to keep loving her. I know we’ll fuck more.” Mike rose to one knee, bringing his head to hers. “For you, I’d want to do the same…but I don’t know how.”

Ava’s eyes lidded. Her snort rustled his hair. “Noi,”—she motioned to the house—“vern.”—and nodded at them both. Mike sputtered.

“At the same time?” He wasn’t sure how pokemon customs differed, but—

“Noivern.”

“What do you mean, all?!” Mike’s eyes threatened to bug out of his head. “Wouldn’t that…wouldn’t that cause problems?” he strained. 

Ava’s head tilted. So Mizule hadn’t told him. Though, with how much fun they were having, she couldn’t blame the musclehead. Ava released him and rolled onto her back in the grass. It was about time she had some of that too.

“Ver?” she asked, emphasizing the incredulity of the idea. He’d trained them too well for that. There was simply one Mike, and his pack of six who needed breeding—from him. Her tail thumped his side in excitement. Given how much male arousal she’d huffed under her wing, he was already plenty ready for what came next.

Mike’s head swam. Ava happened to be lying just like he’d left Mizule. This massive noivern frame was gonna be in his bed, too. And that bit she said about the others…Mike shelved that away for later, crouching over her hindlegs. Ava started clicking again, collar fluffing.

He eyed her curves, tracing over where her thighs met stomach, and the tight line her natural colorations cut between them. It funneled his vision, squeezing past her legs like it wanted the onlooker tracing all the way to the cunt beneath—a long, discreet line nearing the base of her tail—but not yet. 

Instead, Mike placed his palms on her thighs, sweeping over them to cover as much ground on the meaty things as he could. The scales here had a fair amount of give, and so, he had a time probing her malleable glass in a new light. Touch that was once clerical became craven, rolling and pressing bands of muscle to make her keen. Only now did he register how large Ava’s haunches were—a single arm of his couldn’t wrap around a thigh! That also meant the hips attached absolutely engulfed his, or put another way, he’d slot perfectly between them. This girl, who could easily hide him with her torso, still wanted his dick?

He whistled, suddenly grateful she’d laid herself out. In front of him, Ava squeaked quizzically, then mimicked it, and Mike had to resist the urge to dive onto her. Too damn cute. He leaned back, dragging his hands up to her knees to fully take in the size of his adorable partner. She started glancing away, flustered at the man beaming her way.

Arceus, if all of this was dropping on him, repeatedly, the grass wouldn’t be soft enough to save him, but the idea only got hotter the longer it stayed. Ava’s hot, lean, massive, noivern body. He leaned forward again, impulsively squeezing over her thighs and lower stomach. Ava, crooning, closed her legs to catch his shirt in her dewclaws, tipping him forward onto her. He dragged his hands up her sides to join his head on her stomach. The purple scales underneath were just the right warmth in the cooling breeze, and there was so much of her left between her head and here. He needed more. Mike’s hands clutched her sides, lightly bunching the scale underneath for his best attempt at a bear hug.

She couldn’t be close enough. The need to ram those lecherously sized hips grew greater by the minute, but there was still something he wanted before that. Mike dragged himself up her torso, inching his arms on either side for purchase, and planting kisses as he went. The going was slow, but he used it to visit a bit of the passion coursing through him on her form. By the time he reached her midriff, Ava started arching into him, loaded with attention. It forced him to grip her tighter in those moments, which also happened to make her aware of how he shivered every time.

If Ava was starved for contact, she wouldn’t even need to hug like Mizule—her weight could easily do the rest after flipping them over. He…wasn’t sure how much he wanted that. Ava was starting to vocalize, and it was getting him riled. 

He stopped at her neck fluff—Ava’s head was inches away, now. Her claw settled on his back, wrapping them both under a wing. He pulled their chests apart, pushing the wing behind him to lean over the fur and kiss the tip of her muzzle. Ava chirped, eyes crossing to where his lips had been, before her tongue flicked out to lick the area. 

“Noi?” she asked, snapping back to him.

“Sure,” he replied, leaning back to her muzzle, eyes closed. Ava rubbed her face against his, pausing to shove her tongue down his collar, then dragged it up his neck. He met it with his own on impulse, and while they tried to map each other’s mouth, her second set of claws atop the other wing found his back. 

When Ava’s wings lifted, Mike’s clothes fell with them, bearing obvious tear marks. He should’ve been more annoyed by that, but found himself back between her legs, straddling her tail out of need before he knew it. His boxers were hanging from her jaw, swinging from periodic snorts. When had she gotten that? The heat emanating from her slit made his length twitch, and the man decided it didn't matter.

He placed fingers on either side of her entrance, gingerly pulling. At least she spread easier than Mizule, though her inner flesh shared the same pink color. Ava’s tail pressed at his back, insistent. Relenting, Mike tipped his cock to her spread opening, the heat greeting into his head forcing out a groan before he’d even thrusted. Ava screeched in anticipation, legs twitching.

Mike braced himself on her stomach, staying put until he’d acclimated, then entered at a slow pace, looking up to watch Ava’s reactions. She’d chomped his boxers, sucking her own saliva from them. When he got halfway in, her cunt squeezed for the first time, hard, and Ava suddenly thrust so hard that she lifted him off the ground with her hips—but they didn’t lower, leaving him perfectly hilted, but airborne.

Briefly disoriented, his arms flailed for purpose until her legs crossed behind him—Mike was now securely in place, and getting idly assaulted by her walls, but he had no leverage for his own hips to respond in kind. 

“Hey, uh, Ava?” he called. “I can’t do much up here myself.” She raised her head, looking through him for a few moments before seeming to focus—but he didn’t feel his height dropping. She rocked her hips back and forth, forcing him to switch to wrapping one arm over each of her thighs to steady himself. In the middle of all that, he’d felt himself glide inside her. There was a certain look in her eye.

“What’re—” her hips dipped, vertically. Mike slid up her thighs, and then gravity slammed his cock back inside with his entire bodyweight behind it. Her leg-lock kept him in place, but it also offered a Mike-sized slot to & from her cunt, he realized.

She was already bracing herself on the grass, panting excitedly.

“Ava,” Mike pleaded, “I want to make this special too, but…” 

Her hips returned to their original height.

“Couldn’t we try something—” 

They pulsed, bouncing him, but not enough to pull his cock free.

“—more—” 

She thrusted a little stronger. The airtime pulled out an inch or two, before he hilted with a light plap.

“—GROUNDED?!”

More than half his length slid free this time, and his hips returned with an even louder slap. Ava churred, swinging her hips, enjoying the feel of his cock grinding on her walls. On the ground, Mike thought her smoothness a novelty, but balanced on top of her haunch like this, his hold on her legs felt treacherous, and there was no chance of controlling his drops. More of her juices spilled onto his crotch. She bounced him onto her hips again.

“fffFUCK!”

Mike was convinced she’d found the force she wanted. If he was lucky, he’d be sore by the end of this. She set into a steady rhythm of launching him, staring straight at where his cock plunged into her folds.

“Av—!”

They were already in an open part of the field, but fucking him like this really put them on full display. Lucky break that he'd already filled the other one who could see. Ava was drooling now, his soaked boxers tossed aside as she huffed, but he couldn't find any room of his own, stuck with gasps every time their hips met. The constant lurching was distracting, which meant he was never on guard for crashing into drenched , sweltering pussy.

“ff—FFF—UCK!” 

The big drops started shifting into fast, short jackhammering. Mike’s knuckles were already whitened on her thighs, hopeless to stop the orgasm she was working out of him.

“Av-a-a-aah”—he hissed through clenched teeth—”c-mmin-N-GNH!”

She continued unperturbed, only squeaking in a higher pitch when his cum started to be, quite literally, shaken out of him. Mike clenched his jaw, the conflicting sensations threatening to overwhelm.

Ava kept pounding until no more spurts came to cool her walls, then tightened her legs behind him. Slowly, she lowered her hips to the ground, then encased them both in her wings. 

The noivern looked out at the darkening sky. The sun would be out a while more. She delighted at the feeling of Mike’s naked weight on her—there was still plenty of new ‘air time’ to have, after all.

tfw still tempted to add Arceus commentary
ty based gamefreak

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Chapter 3

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Tmp. Tmp Tmp Thunk.

Her lithe form flowed between stances, raining blows on the trunk ahead. This tree was the latest target of her usual routine, which begged the question of just how many she might’ve felled in the time since they’d settled here. If he’d sat in on more of these, maybe that number would be clear…but that train of thought would lead to ignoring his pokemon. That wouldn’t do.

His younger self had seen her final evolution a long time ago, staring back at him from the frontpage of some newspaper: long fur-ribbons growing from the wrists, and an equally ribbon-thick pair of whiskers sticking out from their cheeks. The lithe body was par for fighting types, but he’d thought those hanging strips of fur would make them clumsy.

She’d proved that they were anything but. 

In hindsight, that should have occurred to him somewhere along their journeying before she evolved: they wouldn't see it any differently to a tail or leg, after all. Even now, her weaving moves made it hard to judge where her paws would land next on the bark. Every so often, it was a ribbon instead, striking just as loud.

Kai. Of the bunch he'd suggested, she’d liked that name in particular. It described her fighting well.

Her eyes, perpetually lidded, hadn't shifted their focus from her target. The majorly white fur coating her body made sure that he knew what to follow in this shade, but Mike found himself longing for a more open space. The canopy here only let sunlight through in sparse, speckled patterns, none of which shone onto her form, and thus, he'd never get to see the wondrous, ethereal glow that'd coat her. If all mienshao could look like that…he might've been something other than a trainer.

Mike fidgeted a little, trying to calm himself before Kai picked up on anything being off. Ever since two of his longest companions embraced him, these types of thoughts came more often, and more unbidden.

He welcomed it, albeit with a healthy dose of hesitation: strong feelings burnt ties as well as they formed them. Any of the girls leaving, with him the cause, was unbearable. That’d come too close to happening in his young trainer days. Now was the worst time to think about it. Maybe it was just Ava and Mizule who wanted that kind of intimacy. As much as he’d tried to know about his pokemon, cross-species pack dynamics wasn’t something he’d looked at. Getting caught looking into it now would just be awkward.

Kai paused for a moment, and the silence stretched long enough to snap him back to the present. Her body returned to a neutral stance, then turned side on to the tree she’d just assailed, assuming a new posture. It aimed her lean, featureless torso at Mike.

He saw no trace of the liquid armor she forged every day with this training. Behind her, he saw the vestiges of a mienfoo on aged wood, trying with more gumption than that frame should’ve been able to hold. An old memory.

His eye twitched. Couldn't beat that reminiscing habit after all.

He had tried teaching her himself early on, of course. A kid’s felt-through martial arts, pulled from images and text picked up while they were going around the routes, preparing for the second gym. They both spent more time being confused than anything else. A professional would probably do better.

There was a dojo nestled in one of the beginner route villages that he decided to take her to. The difference after the first week was like night and day.

It hurt his pride, especially since he'd personally watched her in that time, but her own efforts were why that even happened. Their evenings outside that village sounded were filled with the echoing sounds of beaten wood, going well after the sun dipped below the horizon.

He tried finding her at first, hoping to at least make sure the mienfoo wasn't hurting herself in the process. The rhythm would stop when he got close, and after a period of time, resume somewhere else. After the fourth try, he decided to leave her to it. Kai came if called, and always showed up for dinner and bedtime, so he could always do an evaluation then. Her returning pitter-patter was the last thing he waited for before sleep.

As the second week rolled for their stay, Kai only sharpened further. Mike got the sense that she'd be unstoppable, if he waited long enough. There wasn't much for the others to work on while they were stuck in one place. They'd stagnate. Was that fair for her sake?

That question gnawed at the young trainer for two more, to the point where his feet couldn't take themselves past the door. In the fifth week, he'd picked up an ecstatic mienfoo, proudly presenting a focus sash and beginner's belt. She'd won some kind of honor or award. He congratulated her, already feeling a weight slip off his shoulders.

Wouldn't this be a great note to end on?

Her small, beady eyes—equal parts enraged and pleading—stared him down across the campfire instead. The mienfoo was the only one out of her pokeball, a conscious choice, as this only really concerned the two of them. It seemed he'd said the unthinkable, but it was a trainer's responsibilities to properly judge the best path forward for their team. The boy figured that they'd already spent enough time here.

Kai didn’t take it well.

Mike couldn’t imagine such a naturally fierce expression moping before this moment. Now, it'd stamped itself on his psyche, but he was confident that she'd bounce back before they left. Next week would be spent restocking, and then they'd leave at the end. For the good of the team, her included. 

Nothing he tried changed her mood, the mienfoo going as far as to stay in her ball, outside of meals. Her posture sagged, eyes perpetually cast at her feet. Mizule and Ava, respectively a rockruff and noibat then, asked him about Kai's change in demeanor, and he dutifully assured them it was something temporary, for which Kai would need space. Nothing to worry about. All the while, worry gnawed his insides.

His prior confidence was degrading. The weight of that choice to leave felt a little more crushing. Ava continued finding fun in short flight trips through the trees, Mizule by chasing and sniffing at everything underneath. Their free time was spent much the same, since only Kai needed to visit the dojo. With a stop placed to those affairs, by him, their plethora of free time was also hers. If he brought her out, her teammates would rightfully give her space as he'd asked, but then the mienfoo would just sit. 

Two days until they left. He had to do something.

After a fitful sleep, the rookie trainer dropped off his team at the pokecenter, and headed in the one direction he thought could offer help. There had to be a way to fix this. They weren’t staying, but she still needed their knowledge. If he could just take something like that when they returned to their journey...it's work out. Right?

It was more desperation than courage that let him cross that doorway. He opened the door a little too hard.

A few heads turned to look at him: a pasty pre-teen, who'd stormed in like he was ready to fight. Recognition appeared on some of their faces, but he couldn't look anyone there in the eye, afraid to lose the momentum that'd brought him thus far, and forced the words out.

More turned at hearing he wanted their ‘martial books’. For a few moments, he continued to be the center of attention, which raised his hopes. Then, the faces watching him grew bored—instructors first, then students—and business resumed as usual. A lucario on the training floor spared him a glance, sniffed, then walked out of sight.

Maybe they’d simply found him impolite. Maybe he’d committed something worse by taking her away, stunting her growth at what might have been a crucial point. The boy didn’t know, and no one there would tell him. He was simply left alone with his thoughts, which were warping in ways he didn't want to listen to. On the day stretched, breaking away at the defiance he'd shown in his refusal to leave. People in gi walked past, not even sparing a glance. The lucario was nowhere to be seen.

He was alone with his thoughts, which kept leading toward the thing he didn't want to see. Robes snapped as students threw punches, kicks. It sounded more like crackling. The evening sun was warm, peeking in with orange light that bathed the room in a color all too familiar. Mike looked down at the floorboards, arms shaking. This was not a campfire. He wasn't there. Yet, under his feet didn't look like lacquered planks when a shadow loomed over them.

The boy stared through the floor. None of this felt real. The shadow hadn't moved.

Someone was in front of him. Mike kept his chin squarely on his chest, a sick realization bleeding through. He hadn’t actually come here. The pokemon waiting ahead was her, and once he saw, he’d wake up, sweating, in that camp. Nowhere closer to making Kai happy..

Everything else seemed to bleed away, like the dream absolutely hinged on this part of the script happening. Mike hated nightmares.

A blue paw much larger than a mienfoo's gingerly gripped his shoulder. Mike thought their grip was shaking, but a look proved the shivers were running down his whole arm.

Blue? 

He snapped up to face the lucario, noticing something it held casually by its side—a scroll of parchment. The outside bore an intricate design, looking completely unblemished. Not a ‘book’ by any standards. He hadn’t even known what he was looking for. Water started creeping into his vision, which made whatever motion they just did impossible to see. 

The paw on his shoulder insistently tugged him closer, and the young trainer found himself pulled into their warm, furry frame. He pulled away after his tears cleared, looking at the damp spot left behind on the fur of their shoulder. They seemed completely unbothered by it, unrolling a length from the scroll to reveal columns of drawings etched within. 

Mike leaned closer. Each shape resembled a human body, but the hands and feet were in different places on every row. One of them looked a lot like one of the poses Kai had been trying to learn first. Stunned, he looked up at the pokemon, finding a warm smile and a warmer ruby gaze aimed back at him.

Exactly what he needed. He pinched himself just to be sure.

It turned out that chest spikes weren't much of an obstacle to hugs for those determined.

Nighttime finally came around. Mike put his other teammates to sleep, then waited a little longer to be sure. Kai’s ball was cradled in his hand, feeling far smaller than it had any right to be. He tapped the button, watching her back materialize an arm’s length away from him. The mienfoo didn’t bother to turn herself around.

“Kai.” No response. Mike made himself smaller, making a cautions approach around the fireplace. “I know you really liked being there,” he continued, reaching into his bag, “and I’m sorry for stopping you like that.” The boy pulled the scroll out, kneeling to hold it out beside her. “But they can still help after we go.”

Silence settled between them, save for the crackling fire, until he heard a barely audible sniffle from her. As he’d hoped, the mienfoo turned, catching sight of the item in his palm.

“S..Sha…o?” she croaked, swiping fur under her eyes with a paw, but the area still glistened. Sudden doubts arose about his idea...but this was a trainer's responsibility. His hand stayed out.

“Open it. You’ll see.”

Kai squinted at him, then huffed, walking up to the scroll and stretching her paws toward either end to take it from him. Neither reached.

“Oh. Uh,” he stuttered. Mike fumbled with the scroll, revealing the same amount that’d been shown to him. 

Kai’s small form froze, transfixed at the paper at first, then swapped to glancing to his shy smile, and back. The fire provided more than enough lighting to see. Those drawings on it were—that meant—

She mewled in joy, dashing around the scroll to clamber up the boy and nuzzle his cheek as hard as she could. They both retired happily that night, Kai too attached to him to go back to her pokeball.

The scroll turned out to be a great help. Kai knew enough to be able to teach herself from it, so there wasn’t much for him to do, save unfolding more, or holding up a part she wanted to focus on: all things he was all too happy to do. She still never let him see her proper training sessions, though. The days where he could’ve witnessed her work through amateurishness were long since gone. She'd taken quite nicely to their slower manner of life in current times.

Mike unceremoniously returned to the present.

Kai’s arms suddenly disappeared, followed quickly by an enormous crack of wood that caught him off guard. Mike blinked—she now leaned a paw on the trunk, head tilted toward him in expectation. He had none prepared.

“Wow. What was…”

The question died on his lips as she gave an insistent push forward with her paw. The tree had been severed, sliding off a newly created stump to fall harmlessly away from them. The final crash still made him jump, despite waiting for it.

With the tree removed, Kai turned her focus fully onto Mike. “Shao. Mien?”

“Never better.” An errant thought came. “You haven’t been felling too many of these, right?”

Kai lifted a ribbon-arm, giggling into it like she’d guessed it was the first thing he was going to say, and shook her head. A part of him buzzed in warmth.

“Thanks. That was pretty cool, Kai.”

The pokemon raised an eyebrow. “Mi-en?” She asked in a teasing tone.

Mike internally groaned: of course she’d poke at his word choice. “I’d like to try seeing you speak after a showcase like that.”

Kai tilted her head curiously, then motioned a paw at him. “Enshao,” she replied, matter-of-fact.

Mike glanced at himself, confused. These clothes were slightly above pajama-wear, at best. Her words made no sense. Kai must’ve read that on his face, because she was decidedly closing the distance between them.

“Enshao,” she repeated, “shao. Mienshao.”

“You’re gonna have to say what in my arsenal is better than cutting through solid, growing wood.”

The weasel forewent a reply, coming to a stop right in front of him. The top of her head was just below his clavicle, forcing him to crane his neck to look at her. They studied each other for a while. Mike decided it was rather nice. A little nostalgic, perhaps.

On the edge of reminiscing again, he didn’t catch Kai’s paws rising to poke him in the abdomen. He crumpled, taking a step back, but Kai moved with him, finding more vulnerable spots in a mischievous assault that brought him down.

The trainer now found himself lying on the forest floor: twitchy, defensive, and ultimately helpless to any further assault. He caught a whisker passing overhead before the weight of four-foot-eight mienshao settled squarely on top of him. Looking at it objectively, the warmth stretching across himself was a boon, and he didn't need to be anywhere in particular soon.

Kai’s paws had taken up residence on his chest. Mike chanced a look down and found her staring back, another infectious smile playing across her features. For revenge, he snuck a hand under her chin to scratch at the fur there, watching her eyes gradually drift shut from his ministrations. When she looked entranced, he snuck his other hand up to her snout, extending a finger to give a firm press at the tip.

Kai’s eyes fluttered open, crossing at his finger, then flicking up to him. She giggled again, then nosed his hands aside, crawling up a little further to reach his face. Mike wasn’t left to wonder about what came next, as she returned the gesture in her own way—nuzzling away with a firm press of her snout into his cheek.

He returned the pressure, settling his arms over her back. These antics drew more chuckles out of him than he cared to track. Those petered out over time, leaving them in a comfortable quiet.

“Shaa-ao,” she murmured.

His skin grew cold. Coincidentally, he'd just gone over that series of events. “Ah, don’t mention it,” he reassured, “it was…the least I owed.”

“Miensha?” Kai whispered in his ear.

His heartrate rose a little. “I asked. There was a nice lucario there…y’know.” A huff blew past his ear. Mike tried to drum up a better-sounding summary. He didn’t get the chance.

“Sha, mien.”

Mike froze. She'd caught the attempt to omit, but she couldn’t have actually known.

“You...didn’t go anywhere that day,” he intoned.

Kai hummed in agreement. The night had little to do with the following morning, after all, but she’d split a tree preparing to go even earlier than that with him. The mienshao nosed his ear, starting up a string of her own pokespeech about the old dojo detour. 

…

Kai felt she’d been faring as well as her teammates, but there was always a lingering feeling of discomfort. Her instincts pulled in a different direction to what wings and walking on all fours allowed, and both the noibat and rockruff seemed to be handling those just fine. Wins and losses came and went, but she never felt quite right. Step more firmly here? Settle her weight higher, or lower? Mike could show her forms, but that alone couldn’t hope to help with those details. 

It wasn’t his fault. Her trainer was clearly doing his best. She'd simply have to be good enough to cover for him and figure it out herself. She'd do so, and stand on equal footing with them. Over time, the discomfort eventually started morphing into something else. Frustration? Anger? She couldn't afford to think she was the one making them, so she looked to the only other source.

Mornings were increasingly spent awake in her pokeball, awareness stretched toward the sleeping boy that was just outside, waiting for any hint of anger when her name crossed his lips. She found none. Scrutinizing his face while his hands prodded her, expecting disgust or disappointment at her ignorance. Nothing.

So what was this roiling clump in her chest about? Maybe it didn’t matter. It could just be one aspect of their journey together, one she could manage out for as long as it took. As many mornings as necessary.

“Kai?”

Her heart rate increased. “Foo?” she replied, with her best air of innocence. She didn't remember what route he'd said they were on. Maybe a better partner would have.

Mike tilted his head, squinting like he’d seen something smudge her fur. “Ah, I’m not sure but…for a moment there, you seemed…off?” His voice wavered, like he wasn’t sure where the thought came from. Kai made every effort to keep her eyes off his hands, which had just finished her turn of that ritual 'check-up'. He'd absolutely do another pass if she looked now. Her teammates were peering in on the side, curious about what he'd noticed. The pulse hammering in her ears would betray her if either of them got too close.

To her chagrin, Mike was leaning in. Her feline eyes dilated, focusing on the nearest part of his approaching head—the nose. The flesh on it was colored like the back of his palms: a soft, thin cover over hard ridges of bone. Where was the bone here?

The mienfoo’s paws raised, and the encroaching nose got squished. He grunted, the pressure a surprise, but more importantly, his advance stopped. Mizule and Ava made noises of approval, getting closer to observe her new discovery.

Mike huffed in place of a snort, a smile working across his features. “Sho datsh it, hach?”

Kai kneaded his nose in response, stepping with him to keep up the contact until he lifted it out of her reach. As her teammates descended with questions about the squishy organ, she couldn’t help the grin splitting her snout.

The nose trick would come in handy many times after to throw him off her trail.

Talk of visiting the 'dojo' unnerved her. It was proof that she'd left her problem unsolved for too long, and couldn't pull her own weight on the team. This boy she knew as trainer would never say that, if he could even think it, but the reality of their detour was quite clear. She'd settled on making the most of it by the time they arrived, which became much easier to swallow when everyone inside walked on two legs. She nursed confidence going in: experience was experience, even if stained with her own dissatisfaction, so surely there wouldn't be too many things she had to correct.

Soon, Kai stood across from a meditite, her chosen opponent for a friendly spar, with a lucario overseeing them both. The aura pokemon seemed comparable in status to the human instructors she'd seen this far. Trainer involvement was forbidden. The end of it left her with a brutally clear idea of just how misplaced that confidence had been. Her opponent hadn't even budged. All this time she could’ve been better, could've been more to him than she was. 

Her chest started to ache, right about where those emotions were buried. Practicing the day's learning kept them at bay, random forest bark making a good substitute for the mienfoo they felt should be mangled. Projecting an identity onto the wood would certainly be unhealthy, but she could retrace the day's learning far more intensely this way. The ache wouldn't outlast her supply of dummies, and eventually, the pokemon emerging on the other side would finally be his Kai. She just wasn't here today.

With each day, the mienfoo strived to get a little closer. She'd pull together enough of that Kai for Mike to really see. The way he looked at her started to change, proving how right this method was. Her smiles started to feel more natural again, because she was becoming Kai. The tension was unraveling bit by bit. Just a little more. 

Mike was in the dojo less and less. She'd have more to surprise him with.

One step closer.

They’d started waving each other goodbye at the door. This was fine, it was all for him.

...

"We're leaving."

His words fell like a boulder, cracking her facade faster than she could react. In her mind, they all stood side-by-side, ready to face the world...and she couldn't see where they were looking. Kai, who was standing there, could. There was a cord tied around Kai's waist, one her current self had been steadily shortening: they were close, but out her reach.

In the real world, she tried to argue, desperate to keep the truth in mind from leaking past her lips. There was still a chance. She could still be that Kai. He didn't budge.

The line went limp in her paws. The imaginary trio winked out of existence, leaving one mienfoo alone in darkness that was too thick to just be the night. It crushed her into silence. There'd be no dummies left to take the hits instead: just herself. Mike was far too nice to do it himself. All she felt was small.

The warmth of a campfire appeared at her back. She'd been taken out again. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. She’d missed her chance. He was offering something, but she wasn't big enough to hold it. Someone like her probably couldn't use it, anyways.

Again, her confidence was proven wrong. Mike, this trainer, her trainer, somehow hadn't decided her time was up yet. His hand placed the lifeline back in her paws. It was the best sleep she’d ever had, leaving his cheek thoroughly drenched in tears of joy.

One of his sleeping murmurs woke her up the next morning. The mienfoo lingered there, marveling at the new lightness in her body, brought by the absence in her chest. Kai, the true Kai, was still a ways off, but there was still a Mike beside her now. Maybe the Kai today was also okay. She still wanted to be better.

Kai extricated herself from the sleeping boy with great care, slipping out of the tent to enter the forest with new purpose. Mike’s warmth lingered with her all the way to a trunk of her choosing. Nothing came to the imagination as she looked at the wood. It felt refreshing. That only increased when her routine began, her mind clear as day. It was like she’d become an entirely different pokemon. Kai smiled, then chuckled, then laughed. 

Everything felt so right.

“You’re learning well,” a nearby voice spoke approvingly. Kai whirled towards it, adrenaline pumping. She hadn't heard them approach, and Mike wouldn’t be up anytime soon. Her eyes met a pair of red orbs, the lucario owning them casually leaning on a nearby tree. She overcame her shock, giving a short bow in their direction.

“Instructor, hello.” Kai nearly fumbled over the words. Why was she here? And of all times, now? “What brought you here?” she asked.

“My newest student.” the instructor replied. “You suddenly go missing, and think I wouldn't question it? I know how trainers are, but we can at least say goodbye.”

Kai blinked. The words were slightly scolding, but hearing them with a clearer mind removed the sting she might've taken from them before. She touched her paws together and bowed. “Thanks for everything. You…and the dojo.”

The lucario’s gaze turned appraising. “The right choice indeed…” she mused aloud. At Kai’s confused expression, she looked up to the canopy as if in deep thought. “That boy of yours. Be sure to treasure him.”

Kai returned her paws to her sides, unsure of how to respond. “Yes,” she finally managed.

She was the last person who needed to be told that, but of course, only she could've been aware of that fact. It would've been impossible to cross paths with the lucario while she was moping in her pokeball. Still, her superior went out of the way to find her, specifically, and also knew that they were leaving. The gears started turning in her head.

“The scroll?” she murmured.

If her instructor had come, it must’ve been more than a simple handover, and Mike wasn’t a fighter. An unusually strong sense of worry flooded through her. “What happened?”

“Ah, the boy wasn’t hurt,” the instructor dismissed, waving a paw, “at least...not physically.”

Kai could hear the turn of mirth in those words. It struck new places in her mind she'd never been free to explore before. If it was humor, it was in poor taste, and poorer time.

“What?” she bit back, edge in her tone surprising herself.

The lucario leaned off the trunk, looking indifferent. Practically speaking, Kai knew she didn’t stand a chance against her instructor, who bore the advantage in experience and evolution. It was a silly provocation, a goad to her student that something happened to Mike on her watch. A single paw stomped toward her superior, Kai's teeth already baring in irritation. “Answer me!”

Her instructor stood casually, once more reminding her of the sheer difference in power between them. But...practically speaking...the gap was objectively less than yesterday’s, and last week’s. Her paws raised in challenge. Mike's honor would be reclaimed.

The lucario chuckled at the display. “Didn't I tell you to use all your senses? Seems I'll have to teach you again.”

Though Kai didn't want to listen, there was a familiar scent wafting from the dog...older than the one from her own fur, but undoubtedly his all the same. She'd only gained this level after literally sleeping on him. She still could imagine his warmth seeping into her skin. He'd simply showed up with the scroll. She had no idea how long he'd been gone. Her gaze at the instructor hardened.

The aura pokemon’s gaze grew excited, which only enraged her further. Kia watched her blue jaw part: the final time she'd allow another instigating remark aimed her way. The lucario seemed to know.

“Come. We'll go see your 'Mike' together,” she teased.

Kai closed the gap in flowing steps, speeding up until her form blurred towards her superior. The mirth across the approaching blue snout turned her vision in more and more red.

In the hours before Mike awoke, the forest echoed with rapid cascades of furry blows.

…

Mike blinked, then swallowed, taking a moment to digest the mienshao's perspective on those events. He wrapped an arm over Kai’s back, giving idle strokes over the side of her torso. The mienshao squeaked in appreciation but spoke no more, signaling it was his turn to speak.

“So she told you, huh?” His heart rate rose as he considered his next words. “I sucked at their puzzles…” He was given no such thing. It was a simple lie to cover the less palatable truth.

Kai sighed, then rose away from his cheek to fix him with a pained look. “Sha.”

The lie was caught. He blanched.

“Mishao?” Her voice was barely a whisper, yet the weight of it made his chest seize. Mike cursed internally at another poor attempt to hide shame from his pokemon. More like an open book than a man. He had to tell her.

“I threw a tantrum.” Each word felt like lead on his tongue. “For a whole day, Kai. And you were so…” Mike scrunched his eyes. “I couldn’t embarrass myself and you too.”

Shrinking away wasn't possible with her on top of him. It didn’t help that this had to be pried free. Yet, there was something taking importance over his own turmoil: the paws on his chest were trembling. Oh no. He opened his eyes, bile at his throat, and found Kai’s eyes watery, her form heaving with quiet sobs. Strangely, maybe poetically...

It 

was 

just like

Kai watched a flash of the past appear on Mike's face: a recognition all too wrong. While she'd found peace, he'd been nursing an old burden like she'd planned to in her earlier days. It wasn't fair for him to be caught there, unable to move on. His chest swelled underneath her, no doubt a prelude to assuaging her sorrow, neglecting his own in kind. Today's Mike would be moving on too. she decided.

She watched his lips tighten, the final tell before he'd start to say his piece. It wouldn't be heard. Kai brought her face closer, focus zeroing in on those two lips of his. The fleshy folds she had to silence. 

The skin there looked softer than his nose.

“Kai, please—”

No more.

Kai's lips settled against his, greedily swallowing the rest of his words. Her eyes drifted shut, enjoying the hum of dying sounds entering her body, then shifted focus to the skin against her thin fur. Warm, pliable—she mouthed at his lower lip, noting how easily it squished under pressure, and the tautness of the surrounding skin from gentle tugs on the pillowy flesh. 

So tender.

Kai’s paws snaked up to his head, holding it steady under her deepening focus. There’d only been a taste of what lay beyond his lips at the beginning, the mouth open from speech. These lips of his were dry on the outside, but the brief air she'd stolen from inside had a familiar twinge of moisture. More importantly, it was his. She wanted more.

She also forgot to breathe. With great reluctance she pulled away, sparing a moment to give a single flick of her tongue over the exterior, and then—shifting her paws to the ground on either side of his head—hovered close enough for their noses to touch. That brawl countless moons ago left Kai with no more room for shame concerning him. She’d remove every bit of his.

The mienshao said as much, just in case, but it’d clearly already had the intended effect: the muscles she was lying on had relaxed. None of her limbs were in an advantageous position to casually feel for new tension somewhere else…

“Arceus, where’d…where’d you learn that, girl?” Mike finally uttered. She took special note of his labored breathing. Quite the effect, which only made her want to do it more. She dove again, pressing her tongue to his lips for entry. Mike granted it, a slow session of twining and wrestling going between their mouths until air was needed again.

Separated, they gazed at each other, panting.

“I wanted to be like you,” Mike blurted.

“Shao?”

Mike looked away. “Still a bit now, yes. Helps me keep doing what I can.”

Kai nuzzled the cheek presented to her. How flattering.

Mike marveled at the surprising sense of comfort radiating through him from her affections. It felt like he was in bed, which made the idea of cuddling her even more attractive now. They’d kissed already, too—

She mewled in happiness.

He’d lie here for as long as she wanted. Unfortunately, the sentiment became short-lived, as the fur rubbing his cheek soon lifted away. Mike started turning his head to face her again, but was met with her snout squishing one of his nostrils.

“Haoo, shh miuunn?”

Ah, trying the ol' blocked-nose speak for once. Enough survived for him to parse out. “I've got only the highest thoughts for you, my noble, valorous Kai.”

Another laugh washed over his ears before the mienshao straightened up. An inkling of something flashed in her eyes.

“Mien?” A simple question from her. A game. 

“Be my guest.”

Nodding, Kai somersaulted off, landing to beckon her trainer in the direction of home. He took a step, and she sprinted off, disappearing into the trees in a matter of moments. He had no hope to catch her at that speed, and perhaps running in her ‘race’ was the ploy. Mike walked, finding occasional tree stumps to guide him.

It's in following this trail that he met a forest clearing, large enough to show an unbroken section of sky above the forest trees. A gleam in the center catches his eye, kicking up an oddly familiar feeling in the back of his mind. Going closer brings more detail: the gloss is from a laminated finish, and the object before him is a series magazine. His eyes glance over fancier text at the top of the page: GYM weekly.

The cover has a still shot of a cycling trainer, her fletchinder flying alongside. The woman was fit, clad in a croptop and shorts, and suspiciously absent of sweat for how fast they looked to be going. Her abdominal muscles were lean, and on full display. More importantly, the issue didn't have any wear & tear. It was brought here. Mike took a furtive glance around, suspicion evident on his features.

This series had been...one of many useful tools, in the past. Travelling alone could get rough sometimes. Puberty stacked a lot more onto that, and urges didn't quite care about his distance from civilization when they hit. As it turned out, that same distance could be freeing in some ways.

PokeMart owners, the bastards, seemed well aware of this reality, and kept their reading shelves well stocked with more than just news. For a few more pokedollars, anyone inclined could leave with material that carried twice the imagery for text, which made it a lot easier for imagination to fill the gaps.

Mike was no stranger to it. He remembered creeping well outside the camp, leaving his sleeping pokemon behind in their balls, before working himself out. Forests were somewhat convenient for it. Rain would handle the cleanup, if nothing else did. He still had no answer for why it was here. 

Mike picked up the magazine and flicked through the pages. Nothing explicit or even borderline, truthfully, but that was what hormonal minds were for. It gave an odd sense of nostalgia: echoes of his own arousal, coupled with the thrill from being alone with his own five senses—alone as far as a teen could know, at least. Leaning on and around tree trunks, trying to be quieter than the natural sounds of the forest.

He could rub one out now, for old times' sake. Kai was clearly up to something, likely aware of where this clearing was and maybe who brought the magazine. A fanciful idea came, toying with a possible invitation to go at himself.

but he had a lot better material now than some magazine.

Mike glanced around the clearing again, an old sense of anticipation winning out against his suspicion. He certainly had a lot better material now than some magazine. More so, there probably wouldn’t be a time where he’d get a chance to act on this again. The girls could freeroam the property and the surrounding area as they wished, and if three were already down to jump his bones...Mizule’s thighs flashed in his mind. No room at all.

Gnarled bark pressed into his back as the trainer fished at the fly in his pants, focused on seeing his decision through. Kai was nowhere in sight, but the magazine under his arm was proof enough: her arrival was a matter of when, not if.

He clamped down a groan as his cock was finally pulled free, already at full mast for the job at hand. The forest made no fanfare to the saliva-slicked hand wrapping his length, nor to the quick motions that he began to make over it. Mizule, soft and firm and brawny, in his bed, on the couch, claws tracing his back. A wad of precum surged from his tip, accompanied by a noise from him that mirrored one of her growls. The bassy note was easily drowned out by the environment, though he was already too busy to notice with his mind too far focused on his Lycanroc’s specter. 

His hips were starting to get into it, the simple sensations from hand movement alone coming up short. Ava had tossed him around like one of his pillows, enabled by the fact that they were in the open air. No matter how he thrusted into his palm, it couldn’t recreate that experience of falling into her cunt, but there was more to savor. Her taut wing flesh over his bare skin. Her melodic cries, especially the ones made because of him.

Mike’s hips froze, hand blurring up his length with the surplus he’d steadily built from himself. The finish line was in sight. His eyes squeezed shut, the world around him dimming away as he climbed for climax. Free of inhibition, his mind searched for more to feed the growing fire in his loins, to tip over the edge at last. Kai. On the forest floor, her lips acted like they meant to devour him. Greedily taking all he had to give.

The pleasure sharpened to a peak. He rammed his fist to the base one last time, mouth open in a silent scream as the throes of orgasm took him. Each pulse he imagined painting its own string across white fur and purple bands, all while a narrow face looked on with an expression that begged him to do it again.

The wind over Mike’s skin slowly came back into focus. He took a few seconds to recover, sorting through the stimuli. He was probably still alone. All that was left was finishing the trip home, or at least getting out of here before he was spotted. 

Eyes opening, he found those hopes turned out to be short-lived. Kai laid on all fours in front of him, off-white lines staining through her back fur. As her head moved, he glanced to find her gaze flicking across the ground, tongue scooping dollops of seed from the grass. When her questing could find no more, she swallowed with a loud purr, and stood upright to meet his gaze.

“Shao, miehshao, mm?” 

“Hey…” Mike was stunned. Was that nostalgia he heard? There were zero times he remembered a pokemon bursting out of the forest during, or after his sessions. All that effort meant his team, specifically, should’ve been none the wiser. “what are you talking about?”

Kai was too busy staring at his softening cockhead, sitting uncleaned thanks to the interruption. Snapping his fingers didn’t get a response. He waved his rod around instead, and her eyes followed. They were at an impasse. She lolled her tongue, waggling it in the air.

He sighed. “Will you explain yourself after?"

Kai squeaked an affirmative and winked, pointing at her mouth with a claw. Half-listening, at least. What was the worst that could happen?

“Fine.”

Her slithering tongue was already inching down his shaft by the time he realized that her original spot was empty. His ensuing startle reflex kicked off just as her snout mushed into his pelvis. 

Kai immediately whirled a paw behind her, whipping the ribbon-fur between her legs to grab the end in front of her with the other. Both paws pulled the ribbon taut, smushing the band into her cunt, then slid it back and forth, flossing her cunt in steady motions. She groaned around him, twisting her head, then started bobbing at a moderate pace.

She needed him firm again. Her snout sank a little faster. His full girth, flattening her tongue. Her jaw met his pelvis a little harder. Stretching her throat. Her head kept swiveling, absorbed by how each angle changed the feeling of his mushroom breaching her throat.

Mike flattened his torso against the trunk, flailing incoherently at a sensory bomb that made him forget where he was, and was clambering for ‘who’ next. There’d been Kai, and now something was stuck, another was fraying his senses, and oh Arceus was that his dick in there?

Kai was jackhammering his length. Her paws had long since abandoned their sawing to keep the ribbon still, as all this rocking let her body crawl it instead. A croak from above got her attention, finding froth at her trainer’s lips. Her gaze turned lecherous. So deliciously raw.

It sent a tremor down her legs, strong enough that she had to pause mid-downstroke to keep standing. Impatient with her own recovery, she nursed hotly at the half she had buried, hips jerking over her ribbon, shooting more pleasure up her core. Her stamina wouldn’t survive thinking about how hot this display from her trainer was, or how it was all her to enjoy—Mike’s cock throbbed dangerously. 

She’d missed when it got erect, but something better was on the way. After years of second-hand helpings, a load piped straight to her stomach was all she’d wanted for so long—her eyes began to roll—but a quiet discontent made itself known. Her chest felt bare. Light. That had to be fixed.

Kai popped his length free, releasing her ribbon to clasp his shaft with both paws, and then angle it towards her own chest. She didn’t have to carry him just in her stomach anymore. This fur was better than any patch of grass, by far.

His erection bobbed, sending the first volley off-course to her face and whiskers. She hissed in approval, moving a paw over the top of his shaft to keep it downward while the other raced between her legs. With her guidance, the rest of her stomach was nicely splattered, some strings even breaching her thighs, which drove her steady fingering to a feverish pace. Their commingled scents smelled absolutely divine.

Kai grit her teeth as she came, a series of keens and grunts vocalized as she rode out her greatest fantasy. When the haze cleared, her vision refocused on his head once more, finding another dollop of sperm left behind. She approached on wobbly legs, swiping it off with the barest of contact between her tongue and his shaft, noting the spasm it sent through his body. 

The thought occurred that she may have overdone it. She paused, looking up at his chest, which rose and fell. Still breathing at least. He’d need a boost to continue. The mienshao turned to look at the opposite end of the clearing, suddenly feeling ten times as far away. She would too, it seemed, as walking that distance felt like it’d outlast her strength. 

Kai’s eyes fell on her chest, to the patterns adorning her fur. A paw raised to squish over a line, the texture causing a shiver as its sliminess finally registered on her skin. Fur could really have downsides. She let her paws roam until all the cum he’d spilled was similarly massaged to the root of her fur, then surged power to her legs, reaching the other side in a single leap. More efficient.

The sticky feeling remained, she noted with a purr—the fur had kept it trapped. Her attention shifted to the tree in front, where its trunk met the ground, and her body sagged. Not yet. A paw found the trunk for support before she tipped too far, and she used the hold as a pivot point, making her fall a swing into the trunk to reach for the other side.

Hope fluttered as her paw grasped plastic. A pair of elixir bottles, left just in case. The mienshao wasted no time in biting through the container, squeezing the liquid past her teeth until her limbs felt trustworthy again. Tossing the empty bottle, she grasped the other and returned to Mike.

He was still as she’d left him, slack-jawed against the tree. It was either luck or physique that’d kept him from falling over. Kai pierced a claw through the top of her bottle, and scaled the trunk on three limbs. Up close, it was definitely the physique. How many positions could she goad this body into?

Mike’s second wind came first, in any case. The hole she’d punched let her administer it with a single paw, much like how she did for herself. It was a slower process: squeezing just enough not to spill from his lips, then moving the same paw under his jaw, gently lifting till he swallowed. It was rare that any of them got to play nurse with Mike, too—this just kept getting better! 

It seemed that he was slowly gaining responsiveness. When the bottle was nearly empty, his eyes refocused, tracing the forearm back to her. Kai smiled, seizing the urge to jump him again. He looked back at the bottle.

“An elixir?” Kai nodded. “What just happened?”

His tone was shocked, his face confused, but nothing in there spelt fear. They had to mate now. She shoved her claws deeper into the bark, the exertion helping to clear some of the urge that’d almost taken her. They’d made an agreement, after all.

She’d always thought being his grass was a lot better than cleaning it.

Agreement fulfilled, at least as far as she cared, Kai didn’t wait for his response, clambering sideways to step herself over the man and straddle him against the trunk. She was certain by now that he could smell himself through the musk permeating her fur. The elixir worked, so she didn’t need to look to know that his dick was at the ready. Retracting her claws, she slid down the tree until his rod nestled against her rump.. Reaching a paw down, she straightened her legs a moment, separating their bodies to flick the shaft up over her stomach, then slid their hips together again.

Mike suddenly captured the paw that’d just repositioned his shaft in his own hand, expression like he was thinking of what to speak. She giggled, pulling his hand up to her snout to leave a gentle kiss on the back of his hand, then—thinking better—held it there to lazily taste the skin there.

“Arceus, Kai,” Mike managed, “n-not every time, right?”

That was correct, in an absolute sense. Cities gave a lot more ways to waste spunk that she couldn’t get to, but she’d specifically mentioned grass, which only ever happened out on the routes. Those she never missed. It was certainly his worst suspicion, and yet, the cock between them pressed into her stomach with an especially strong surge.

They’d both waited long enough. Kai gingerly bit one of Mike’s fingers, pulling it gently off her paw. The angle wasn’t quite right: his shaft leaned on her lower abdomen, she needed it threading her mound, but this was easily solved. She detached her other paw from the trunk and leaned back, reaching her arms to the ground below. Her body now made an inverted arch, waist perfectly straddled over his, and more importantly, the underside of his shaft nestled right along her cleft.

She stood still, savoring the heat of his organ, and his breaths further above. This setup offered her little control on her pleasure beyond small frictions from undulating the spine, but that was fine. Kai wanted him in charge here.

His hands crept over her thighs, drawing out a sigh of approval. The weight against her shifted, and his shaft ground a path through her valley, firing a volley of sparks down her body. He pushed forward again, hips swaying to push more of her flesh against his underside. The length of her canal clenched in anticipation, oozing more of her fluids out to greet him. It made the next stroke faster, and faster, till he was ramming himself along the ridge of her cunt.

Mike found himself enthralled. Kai’s hips sat right above where his erection normally pointed, creating a compression between them that locked his cock right into the most natural dip on her body. The fact that this worked didn’t make sense to his brain—with just the underside, at this speed—but the novelty only made it hotter.

She was moaning beneath him, head out of sight, tremors rising in intensity. Could he make her finish from just this? Mike didn’t need to ponder much longer when her feet crunched bark on either side of him, the mienshao stiffening as lewd squelching bubbled up nectar against him in droves. A mischievous idea spawned in his head, prompting him to draw himself back until his bulbous head leaned on her pulsing entrance. If she thought that was good…

He waited for the pause before the next contraction, thumb above his mushroom to keep it aimed, and shoved. Kai made a garbled noise as his head, plus a good inch, popped in. Oh fuck.

In his ardor, Mike realized he’d forgotten to give himself time to recover from what they’d just been doing. Kai’s cunt didn’t just press or pull, it twisted, which could’ve either been natural, or learned. He groaned urgently, feeling his pleasure spike to dangerous levels. 

The next time her walls stopped, he’d have to pull out—

Kai’s legs kicked themselves free of the tree and locked onto his thighs, forcing him to join in her momentum. All of his focus shifted to balance, which took a few strides forward to fix. Two fur-ribbons twipped around his waist, stinging as they tangled each other in a loop. Kai was heaving herself on the ribbons with a crazed look. Her body started driving itself onto him. He gripped at her ribbons, too taut to budge, feeling his cock spearing through tightness he’d thought unbreakable. The crawling pace highlighted her cunt’s mangling attempts on his length to dizzying detail.

Mike’s own back started to arch. Her antics had prolonged this bout of vaginal seizing against him, and his best reprieve would only come when they were balls deep. Fucking Kai through her orgasm might be a suicidal act. 

Mercifully, her core tired. Her pull didn’t, ramming the rest of his length inside her in one fell swoop. His tip kissed at the hint of a barrier deep inside, and Kai turned her head skyward, seizing and panting with an open mouth. 

Her vagina wrung his cock with new intensity, enough to make his toes curl in his shoes. His meat swelled inside her—the head blooming against her cervix in a proper kiss—and unloaded. Mike fell to his knees, flattened by the tidal wave crashing through him, and filling her. Kai gasped, feeling each surge of warm, thick seed splattering harshly into her womb, far more than the grass that her shoulders now found themselves lowered against. Mike arched forward to find her stomach, his desire for contact fulfilled as he rode his climax to completion.

So the pair laid, twitching until they were spent.