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“Excuse me!” she snapped, trying to pull her skirt back down.
“Magnolia said skin-to-skin,” I helpfully reminded her, wondering if perhaps she had not heard. “Not skin-to-skirt.”
“This is a nightgown! A very nice, warm nightgown!”
“Well, she didn’t say skin-to-nightgown, either. In fact…”
I grasped Darcy’s wrists with my hands, holding them up in the air as my tail pulled her nightgown up and over her head. I tossed it aside, plastered my bare front to her back, and placed my chin atop her damp head. Instantly, she drew her knees up to her chest, hunching into herself. I drew my knees up also, keeping my inner thighs pressed tight against the outsides of hers.
Ah. She was so lovely. Adorable with her pinchy little frown and her shyness.
What had she called that human pet creature? The one she had called “cute” and “skittish?”
A cat. My wife was like a cat.
I wonder how you make a cat love you…
Speaking softly and gently petting often seemed to work with wary animals here. I’d try that. I put my hands on her shoulders, tenderly stroking down her arms in soothing lines. When I reached her hands, I stroked back up to her shoulders.
Giving animals treats also worked. With a sudden flash of thought, I remembered the tea Magnolia had brought. Still petting my skittish wife’s arms, I snatched up the handle of the mug with my tail. The warm side of the cup made the burned tip of my tail sting and feel tender as I carefully brought the drink around to her front.
“Here,” I said in a quiet, calling sort of voice. The kind of intonation I’d use to coax a sick bracku to eat. “Drink this.”
“Why are you talking like that?” Darcy asked suspiciously, taking the mug and balancing it on the blanket that covered her bent knees.
“I am speaking to you the way I’d speak to a spooked shuldu or sick bracku. Or a cat, but I’ve never seen one of those, so I can only really guess.”
“A… a cat? Like, a Terratribe II cat?”
“Yes,” I said, slightly increasing the pressure of the petting on her arms. “You said they are cute and skittish. Just like you.”
“You think I’m cute?” she asked softly. And then, more loudly, “Hold on, skittish?”
“Why else would you be so wary of doing the skin-to-skin with me? Especially when it is for your own good?”
“I’m not skittish,” she protested. “I’m just… I’m just… reserved!”
“Yes. My reserved little cat.”
“Fallon!”
“Drink your tea, little cat.”
“Oh my God.”
As if to avoid continuing this portion of the conversation, Darcy put the mug to her lips and took a large swallow of the fragrant mixture.
“Oh, wow. Lavender, I think. And maybe chamomile. Magnolia must have brought this from home.” She took another, slower sip, appearing to savour the beverage. Then, she attempted to put it back on the table, but the table was out of her reach with the bed’s new position. I looped my tail around the handle and took it from her, putting it down.
“What happened to your tail?”
“What?” I asked, momentarily distracted by the rain-plant-human-female scent radiating from her naked body. “Oh. I burned it.”
“You what?” she asked sharply. “When?”
“When I was putting the rocks in the fire,” I murmured, nuzzling down against her hair. Empire, it was so soft, even when wet. It smelled so nice, and was such a pretty colour, and-
And it was ripped away from my face as Darcy got onto her knees and spun around to face me. The blankets fell away, and just like that I was confronted with the beauty, glory, and mind-numbingly erotic perfection that was my wife’s bare body.
