Raised by Wolves update (Patreon)

Yes, baby, yes, Kitty thought deliriously. Don’t you want this? Because this is what I want for you. I want you to be wild, want you to get everything you need, so long as it’s from me. No man can make you feel this way, can they? Not even Scott.

With her nose barely able to breathe through the thatch of purple hair fanning over Betsy’s pubis, Kitty tingled her tongue into the slippery opening as far as it would go. She felt Betsy’s clit against her lips, stiff and quaking with excitement. Her tongue curled around it—the little bud shook against her taste buds like it was made of jelly. Kitty could already taste a new saltiness inside Betsy’s folds, a growing warmth, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before she was drinking down Betsy’s release of creamy female pleasure.

Betsy Braddock knew she shouldn’t be enjoying this, not as much as she was. She’d promised herself that nothing like this would happen between her and Kitty. But how could anyone say no to this level of pleasure? How could anyone feel one jolt of Kitty’s fiery tongue, in a series that continually escalated from the already shocking delight at the beginning to more and more delicious thrills… and not want to keep going, keep going and going, until Kitty’s mouth finally drove her to her ultimate satisfaction?

Betsy’s head tossed from side to side, dimpling her pillow in countless ways, changing its landscape with every increase of the passionate tension within her. She felt more desire with each lap of Kitty’s tongue through her folds. It felt incredible, each and every time. Her eyes closed blissfully, her lips parted in a never-ending sigh, with a thin line of drool running down her chin as she continued and continued to absorb the good feeling of Kitty’s lovemaking.

Every now and then her sigh would deepen into a rippling moan, coming up from deep in her throat. While she was particularly tender, Kitty would surprise her with a fresh movement of her tongue, touching some new part of the depths inside Betsy. Then a sharp, excited gasp would be wrenched from Betsy’s plump lips.

That’s right, babe, Kitty thought, her tongue running deeper and firmer into Betsy’s sex with every lick. Give it to me. Let it out. Don’t you dare hold back. Just feel what my tongue’s doing and when you can’t take the feeling anymore, let me have what I want. There’s no rush. I can do this to you all night, if that’s how long you can hold back. But I am going to taste that sweet honey, that honey that’s only for those who make you come.

Betsy knew it wouldn’t be long before she reached her summit and covered Kitty’s tongue with her orgasmic release. She felt the tension mounting inside her, like a pocket watch being wound further and further until there was nothing more for it to do but shatter.

That point had to come sooner or later, but Betsy wanted to hold back for as long as she could. Maybe it was petty, trying to demonstrate that she wasn’t as entirely submissive to Kitty’s lovemaking as she really, completely was. But the longer she waited, the more pleasure would fill the time between now and that inevitable end.

And it really would be the end. This was the last she would ever feel of Kitty’s passion for her. So all she could do was try and enjoy every second of the build-up as much as she would her final relief.