Teaser: Bad Timing (CV) (Patreon)

You make it three steps before Phirae catches you. The cat’s instincts kick in, he dives, and you end up trapped in his hands and against the floor. Darkness overwhelms you, but so does something else assaulting your senses. It’s a sudden heat, and a strange scent you can’t quite place.

A crack in your prison lets the light back in. Above, Phirae peers between his palms, kneeling low.

“Good timing, I almost didn’t see you there…” The feline’s voice vibrates almost like a purr, or maybe it’s just the size difference reverberating in your ears. It makes it hard to focus, but you almost feel like there’s…neediness dripping from his voice. From your vantage, low to the ground. You can see along Phirae’s underside, to see something else dripping too - Phi’s dick, bouncing freely. Things start to make sense.

The scent of lust swirls against the heat of the cat’s body. He thought he was alone. Those paws, the ones around you? They must have been wrapped around his cock not that long ago. Now they’re hotboxing you in the leftover musk. There’s even a little glisten of pre running along one of Phi’s palms.

“Wouldn’t want you scurrying around while I’m busy, right? I might not have noticed you in the heat of the moment.” The cat’s breath steams up against you. “But now…”

He trails off into a trilling purr, as you slam against the palm of his hand. He scoops you up, pinned against his paw like one of those spinning carnival rides. Swirling the world around you, until it settles into a field of dark fur and a twitching pink tower. Phirae doesn’t give you time to admire it, pressing you against the hot, musky flesh. His voice gets muffled, but his purrs feel like they come from all around you, almost like his dick vibrates too.

“Prrrrhhhh…sorry, you caught me at a bad time. I’d help, but…only if you help me first...” It’s obvious what the cat means, his grip tightening around his shaft. He’s already dragging you against the underside, right into the dribble of pre that’s been trailing down the length.

He stays like that, kneeling on the floor and masturbating, acting as if you aren’t there. Through glimpses between Phi’s fingers, you can see him staring at his phone, completely ignoring your squirms. What kind of porn is he looking at? You can’t tell from the short glances. It must be good, if he’s already leaking. The musk smears everywhere whenever you end up at the tip of his cock, mouthfuls of the salty stuff firing over you in his excitement. Towards his sheath, the scent of musk is somehow even stronger, mixing with traces of sweat to keep the air humid. Low enough, and your legs even slip in slightly, stretching the fleshy pocket for space against the cat’s throbbing spire.

Back and forth, up and down, the motions are repetitive. Phi’s dick throbs, pressing you against his palm until his grip shifts. Faster strokes, building to a crescendo, an easier angle so he can thrust into his paw. It seems like he’s getting close.

But before it’s too much he slows down again, and drags you up to the tip, a spurt of precum fires into your face, the thick dribble soaking your head like it’s been dunked in a warm, slimy bath. His shaft pulses, right on the precipice of his climax, edging with each slight buck of his hips. The cat’s gasps are staggered, just barely holding on, but he slowly brings himself back.

“Just…a little more…” He purrs, finally addressing you again. Those aren’t reassuring words. Nor is it a reassuring shove, with one finger to the back of your head, plunging it into his slit. The wet opening accepts you easily, squelching with leftover pre as it stretches around your shoulders, but it’s still cramped, with barely enough room to wriggle.

The musk somehow gets even stronger, inside his dick. Like pheromones, the feline’s lust hangs like an invisible fog, hot, needy, and driven. It can’t even escape past you, every wave of pre crashing against your body, trickling down into the depths before another wave of pulses sends it up like a geyser again. It makes for a nice, steady push as Phirae feeds you into his cock. It’s not long before you feel the pressure on your feet slip away, replaced by the fleshy squeeze of his slit shutting behind them.

The walls flex like swallows, trying to push you out, but gravity and too much lube sinks you deeper against the weak undulations. You know you make a bulge on the underside, sinking down inch by inch, but you can’t tell when you disappear from the base of his shaft. The pressure all around you keeps building to an unfinished crescendo, and his purrs vibrate like you’ve been shoved in a horny engine. Your struggles nearly send him over the edge again.

The curve of the tunnel soon bottoms out, somewhere deep within the cat’s hips. Maybe if he fondled his taint Phirae would be able to feel you from the outside. He can certainly feel you inside, with every movement stretching the constricting flesh. But it won’t give. There’s no way to wriggle back up, nor can you tell how far you’ve already slipped. You’re trapped, right against Phi’s prostate. You can hear it gushing with fluid, washing down over you in faster waves.

In one of those movements, while the cat’s rutting in his hand, your wriggles hit just right. To slip against the clenching walls around your lower half, pushing up, deeper. Into the squeeze, through the pleasurable, electric jolt as you’re shunted through his prostate. Down, and against the tightest sphincter. Right when it opens wide, with a torrent of thick, creamy ecstasy.

Everything is a blur of white and pink.

Cum barrels against you, crashing in waves into you, then over you. It isn’t enough to push you back. You slip against the opening, forcing it wider as the tunnel floods with more thick cream. It’s a tighter fit, not designed to fit something like you. But Phi’s prostate squeezes in, and his entire hips shudder in his climax, pushing you deeper anyway. You’re stuck. Too big, and too heavy to ride the wave. But too small, and too light to get a grip on the slick walls. Each pump floods the cramped space. Rhythmic, powerful contractions empty it out again in any slight gap it can find.

Eventually, the cat’s orgasm tapers off. The twitches relax, sphincters start to close, but can’t decide where you fit. Phirae’s prostate pushes you around, until with a final gulping squeeze, you slip forward along the freshly lubed tunnel, and into Phirae’s balls.