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“D-Doc,” Libby says through wobbling lips. She looks so adorable like this, all dewy and sweet, with wet lashes.
I need to get out and roll in the snow. Everything about her turns me on. Thoughts that mingle lust and love together are constant.
“Doc said I can call him Dad if I want. And I want!”
“But... that’s good?” Not seeing the need for tears.
Libby nods and wipes her wrist across her eyes. “I’m happy. Happy, but also mixed up. I had big walls around my heart and big plans for not getting hurt. Suddenly, in one weekend, I get a great guy and an honorary father...” Libby trails off and pushes her pale blonde hair back into a nervous ponytail.
“Right. Suddenly you get these great guys, but if you let them get close, then you could get hurt. I get that.” I gently pat her knee. “But you could also get a lot of wonderful things you didn't have before. Friends. Family. A lover.” A hunky, hairy hubby, I think silently. “If you’re worried about me, I know that I came on strong, but I'm not going anywhere. You don’t have to think of it as someone busting down your walls over the course of the weekend. I’m fine with taking things nice and slow if that’s what you need. If I go too fast, just tell me. I don't want to scare you off. Oh, one more thing.” I clear my throat before I tell her what I'm about to say because I know it doesn't cast me in the best light. It's either going to make me seem like a creepy stalker or a coward.
“What’s that?” Libby looks more cheerful now, smiling at me as she puts my smoothie in the cupholder of the truck.
“If I come on strong, you have to remember that I've been watching you for weeks, trying to get up the courage to show myself and ask you out, or even just say hi to you. Getting your number and leaving a message was a dream come true. I could talk without having to show you my true form and getting rejected. Now that you're here and you accept me...” I clear my throat again because the vision of her accepting me— accepting all of me, her delicious pink little walls grasping my massive member— inserts itself into my mental imagery. “Sorry. I'm probably going much faster than I should. But I have a head start.” I give her my best reassuring smile. “Don't worry. I can slow down, and maybe you'll catch up.”
Libby’s fingers slip through mine and squeeze. “That was beautiful. It was the perfect thing to say.”
I take my smoothie and sip it with quiet satisfaction. Way to go, Milo! You didn't mess up something for a change!
“Speaking of speeding up?” Libby takes a big swallow of her coffee and whipped cream (somehow miraculously unmelted) clings to her upper lip. Her sweet soft pink tongue curls and dabs it away.
I suck hurriedly on my straw, praying for clean thoughts.
No such luck. “Do you think you could hit the gas and we could get to your place? Faster, rather than slower?”
There is no mistaking the heat in her voice.
The engine rumbles as we zip out of town proper.
I WANT TO SCOOP LIBBY up in my arms and carry her across the threshold like a bride.
Even though I just promised I would go as slow as she likes, I confess I am picturing remodeling the house and adding on an addition. I want this place to be hers, ours. I have plenty of space that's just cluttered with my odds and ends. I could consolidate and make room for her. I want her to realize that I'm willing to do it without rushing. She could have an office here. Bedrooms for guests. A nursery for the babies. A room for fostering rescues.
Slowly. Later.
I have to live up to the promises I made, after all.
Libby and the kittens are the ones who rush right now. The kittens realize they are back in their more familiar territory and they go streaking out of the cooler, romping and gamboling across the floor. Libby clasps her hands to her mouth and gasps as she looks around the garage-slash-workshop. “Oh my gosh! There's the forge! You have an anvil and smith stuff! Are those swords? Is that a crossbow? This is so cool.”
She's gone and I run after her talking a mile a minute and giving her a tour, my chest puffed out in pride. That isn’t the only thing that's puffing up. I love the way she walks around my workshop. I'm sure that a psychologist would have a field day, but there is just something I find irresistible about watching Libby handle long hard tools and big dangerous objects. She's so petite but so fierce. And when she realizes that I'm watching, she starts putting on a show. First, she runs her hands lingeringly up and down the long iron handles of my tongs, resting her cheek against them. One of my long-handled hammers is propped against the wall and she uses that like a pole, gyrating her hips as she leans on it.
“You are going to make me harder than the metal I work with,” I warn in a low rumble.
“Kind of what I was going for,” Libby giggles. “I was hoping you were going to invite me on a tour of the rest of the house?”
I know she means the bedroom, but I deliberately take her through the kitchen so I can show her the massive amount of food it takes to satiate my Minotaur appetite (and convince her that I should chip in on groceries when I spend time at her apartment). I also mix up the last of the kitten milk replacer and a can of kitten chow. I whistle and the boys come running, their short, floofy tails held high.
“Good boys. Freddy, share. Felix, don’t put your paws in the water bowl. Oh, man. You’re silly.”
Libby sighs. “Watching you take care of them is such a turn-on. You know. ‘Cause I’m a vet tech.” Libby tugs the collar of her hoodie and fans her face, pretending she needs to cool down. “Responsible pet ownership gets me hot.”
“Well, you put on one heck of a show, and I wanted to return the favor.” I sassily swish my tail. I can't help but remember how it felt smacking against her thighs and how her hand felt wrapped around the base of it, way up high, close to my—
I swallow hard, thinking about tight, taboo places on both of us, the parts that we haven't explored and maybe never will.
But some previously unexplored dark corner of my mind realizes that if Libby ever wants me to, I can give her the kind of experience most women could only get with two men or some accessories. Not only that...a new thought comes barreling in— with my cock in her pussy and my thick fingers in her ass, my tail will reach her mouth.
What is wrong with me?
