Spin the Bottle 3 & 4 (Patreon)
Content
Happy Valentine's Day!
To celebrate, I'm giving you an extra-special double helping of how Ateri lost his virginity.
Enjoy!
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Part 3
Marce waited for Ateri to respond. At last, he said, “Well, my dad always says, ‘Never take a bet that you can’t afford to lose.’”
She perked an ear, waiting for an explanation.
“So, yeah. I’m in.”
Marce smiled, her green eyes shining from her golden face. Her coat had been brushed so thoroughly that even in the dim light, she seemed to glow. “Well then, since you’re so daring, Ateri,” she said, handing him the bottle, “you should definitely make the first spin.”
He chuckled. Without getting up, he lowered his chest to the mattress and carefully set the bottle in the middle of the game board. Then, he toyed with it a bit, turning it back and forth, getting a feel for it as he prepared to spin it.
“Would you just spin it already?” she groaned.
So, he did but way too hard, and the thing spun off the board and clattered into a corner before finally coming to rest. Marce doubled over with laughter, her cheek pressed to the dirty deck as she howled. He let his head hang over the mattress’s edge. “Think I’m more drunk than I realized.”
“It would seem!” Eventually, Marce got up. She grabbed the bottle and set it back down, so it pointed to his slice labelled “paw”. She grinned wide. “Penalty shot. Roll over.”
Ateri tilted his head, studying her for a moment. “I don’t recall any rules about a penalty shot in this game.”
“New rule. Roll over.”
So, he shrugged and flopped over on his back. She sat down on the deck with her hip against the mattress. He offered her his paw and she held his wrist. With her other paw, she used her thumb to straighten his fingers. Then she pressed her lips to his palm and started licking and nuzzling him.
Ateri endured several long seconds of this in silence before finally opening his eyes and turning to watch how she traced her tongue around the edge of his palm. He waited even longer before finally venturing, “That’s a kiss?”
She nodded, saying nothing and began working on his index finger next, sliding it into her soft mouth, caressing the underside of it with her tongue and dragging her teeth lightly across his skin.
Ateri winced slightly, his ears looking somewhat uncomfortable at how much attention he was receiving. He cleared his throat and mumbled, “It’s … not like … what I was expecting.”
Marce paused for a moment and sighed, looking at him from the corner of her eyes and not turning her head. “If the only kiss I gave you was a mwah!” she said, punctuating her words with a loud lip-smack against his palm. “How disappointed would you be if you actually won this game?”
He laid there a moment before dropping his head back down onto the mattress. “Excellent point,” he said. “Please take your time.”
So, she did, working on each of his fingers in turn before giving his palm one last sloppy lick. She grinned at him. “You like that?” she asked. Before releasing his paw, her eyes roamed his chest, his narrow waist, all the way down to his sheath. She thought perhaps he looked like he had stirred slightly, but his tip wasn’t yet peeking out.
He must have drunk much more than I realized, she thought. For most guys, that would have been more than enough attention to do the trick.
“Er… Um… Yeah,” he stammered, taking a moment to cough into his fist. “Uh, should I try again, if you’re done with my penalty shot, that is?”
“Yeah, okay,” she said, turning around to look at the board. “Be gentle this time.”
This time, Ateri spun almost too gently, and the thing barely made it one whole revolution before stopping on his ear.
“Much better,” she said. With paws on his shoulders, she rolled him back onto the bed. “Which ear?”
“Oh… Um… Either?” For all his earlier bravado and aloofness, under the intense intimacy of Marce’s touch, Ateri seemed increasingly awkward, almost unsure of himself.
She sat down beside him, and with a touch to his cheek, she eased him onto his right side, so his forehead was nuzzled against her breast. For a moment, he trembled against her. She leaned in close and guided his arm around her back. “Just relax,” she whispered as her fingertips traced a path down his spine.
Marce leaned closer still, her pink chevron nose touching the jet-black fur on the back of his ear. His aroma, so strong and sweaty, filled her. He nodded once and her fingers slid inside his ear, gently holding it still. Then her soft tongue slid deep inside it. She dragged it slowly across the nearly nude flesh, letting her warmth soak into the cooler skin.
Beneath her fingers, Ateri shook harder.
The geroo are a funny people. With their ears signaling their moods, geroo focus more of their attention on ears than on any other body part. Each of their ears are densely packed with nerve fibers making them extremely sensitive to the faintest touch. And though most geroo act like touching another’s ears means nothing, ears are an erogenous zone for most, and they would never dream of touching the insides of anyone’s ears—save for their mate’s and then only in the privacy of their own bedroom!
Marce left nipping kisses all along the velvet edge of his ear, occasionally letting her teeth press lightly into soft flesh so she could gauge his reaction. She breathed slowly out so her warm breath left a chill against wet skin, then she slid her tongue deep inside once more.
Under her paw, she felt his muscles tighten for a moment, then relax as she slowly licked her way towards its tip. His arm pulled her closer as she worked the soft skin, his fingers slid through her soft fur.
Marce took her time, luxuriating in the sensations, enjoying every intimate moment. She refused to be rushed, and even when she was done, she held him in place, breathing slowly in and out so her air would cool and then re-warm his skin.
Eventually, she lifted her head, and his arm fell away from her. His head rolled back until he rested on her knee. She smiled and kissed the pad of her index finger which she then booped against his nose. “My turn!” she said in a bright, sing-song voice. “And I’m feeling lucky.”
With a twist, Marce sent the bottle spinning. Around and around it went, slowing, before finally coming to a stop on her middle pie wedge. “My tongue!” she announced. “Scoot over.”
Ateri moved to the edge of the mattress and Marce laid down as if the lumpy, smelly piece of foam were a bed suitable for a queen. She interlaced her fingers over her belly and casually turned her eyes to the side. She was unsurprised to see bright pink contrasting sharply against his black fur. Her kisses had not only rendered him fully erect but throbbing slightly with each heartbeat.
She closed her eyes and stuck her long tongue all the way out, waiting for several breaths before reeling it back in and looking at him once more. “Well?”
“Um, of course,” he said as he crouched beside her. She closed her eyes again, stuck out her tongue, waited. She could feel his body heat as he moved closer, felt his breath on the underside of her tongue, and then his lips. And then … nothing.
She waited a moment longer.
“So, you’re forfeiting?” she asked.
“Um, no?” Ateri said, sounding much less confident than he had at the game’s start.
“Because it sure seems like you’re conceding to me.” When he didn’t reply, she said, “So, kindly turn the bottle to the last wedge and give me my prize.”
He regarded her coolly, before his ears warmed into the slightest smile. “I’m not conceding.”
“Then act like it,” she said. She closed her eyes once more and stuck out her tongue.
This time, she could feel him above her, lowering himself down to meet her, his lips open, around her tongue but not touching it. Her tongue slid gently against his soft palate and he brought his mouth closed, his tongue beneath hers, his lips pressed against her own.
Then he drew slowly away, dragging his lips across her. He lowered himself closer again, so their lips touched. Over and over, she slid her tongue into his mouth for him to toy with. At times he turned his head and kissed her tongue from the side, focusing on its top or its underside in turn.
As she pulled her tongue away, he chased after it with his own, exploring her mouth. She let him kiss her for so very long, caressing his face, his ears, even letting her fingers slide deep in the longer fur of his scruff.
She was getting very excited now and there was no ignoring the scent. She pushed him gently away and, he smiled, gloating perhaps. “How was that?”
“Sloppy,” Marce said, wiping her muzzle with the back of her wrist. He seemed a bit crestfallen, so she quickly added, “But a solid, respectable effort. Full points.”
With a wink, Ateri reached out and spun once more. His eyes opened wide.
“No!” she shouted on seeing his reaction.
“Are you … certain you want to do this?” he asked.
“You didn’t just win!”
And as she scrambled up to see, he announced, “Balls.”
“Balls indeed,” she cursed. She scooted the bottle to the side and patted the edge of the foam. “Hang ’em over the side and spread ’em wide.”
Ateri blushed so hard that he actually covered his ears with his paws. But she just waited, so eventually he did as instructed. “You um … be nice,” he whispered as he spread his legs.
“Oh, I’m gonna be so much more than nice!” Marce assured him.
And she was. She knelt before the mattress and cupped her paws beneath him, her fingers on his muscular thighs. At first, she just nuzzled him, caressing her lips on one side or the other. Then she gently nibbled on the tendon in his inner thigh while she waited for him to relax.
She slid her warm soft tongue behind his scrotum and dragged it slowly up, so his balls hung over either edge. He gasped a startled, happy noise, so she tilted her head taking time to work on one testicle and then the other.
Ateri dug his claws deep into the foam and his breath came in ragged gasps while she worked. Marce loved every moment of it, her control over him, playing him like a musical instrument, making him feel good, letting him relax for a few bars, only to repeat the chorus again.
She wrapped her lips around his scrotum, letting her mouth’s heat warm them for a while before pulling away, letting them balance on her tongue for a bit before they fell to hang free once more.
She kissed his sack. “My spin!” And without waiting for him to sit up, she let chance decide their fate.
Marce sighed and rested her face against his inner thigh. “Balls again.”
“You don’t—” Ateri started to say, but she went back to work, and the words evaporated in his muzzle.
As she licked him this time, she used her fingers to play with his sheath. The black geroo wasn’t just hard, his sheath was pulled tight around his knot, the swelling at the base of his penis that stuck males and females together for a time after mating.
Ateri’s muscles clenched at her touch, and instead of resting placidly against his belly, his erection stood out as upright as it could, held back by the fuzzy skin of his sheath, like a rowdy drunk whose friends were trying to keep him out of a fight.
She toyed with his notch—where the end of his sheath connected to his belly. She rested a fingertip behind his knot, and he gritted his teeth. Inside his sheath, a huge mass of nerve endings were arranged behind the knot, waiting for a female’s muscular action to squeeze them tight and trigger a climax.
Her ears grinned wider. With two fingers, she toyed with his still-sheathed knot while she licked his balls, giving his knot the gentlest of tugs over and over while she had her fun, driving him to the very precipice of ejaculation without ever letting him cross over.
At last, she sat back, grinning smugly. “Your spin.”
Ateri groaned, refusing to sit up. “I don’t know if I can take a third one of those,” he said, draping an arm over his eyes, “but you mind spinning for me?”
Marce did as he asked, then jumped for joy. “Pouch!” she yarped. “You have to lick my pouch!”
She crossed her arms and stood expectantly beside the mattress.
“Well?” he asked. “Lay down.”
“No,” she huffed and pointed a finger down at the space before her. “Kneel.”
With no small amount of reticence, Ateri sat on his ankles, his knees at the edge of the foam. “Um, this is kinda weird,” he said.
“Don’t care,” she replied. She stuck her thumbs in her pouch and pulled it wide, so it hung open in front of his face. For a moment, she wondered if she’d had more to drink than she’d realized, but then regained her confidence. “Get in there. Do a good job, and I’ll put in a kind word with the judges.”
“Yes, ma’am.” His voice sounded sad, but ears were spread wide with glee. He replaced her fingers with his own, pulled the lip of her pouch wide and shoved his muzzle deep inside. Then he snorfled inside until the tickling gave her a laughing fit.
Marce recoiled, her paws hiding her assaulted pouch as she tried to regain control. “Cheater!” she laughed. “You deserve an automatic fail for such treachery! Minus one million points!”
Ateri hung his head, his ears lowered, but they lifted slightly as he begged forgiveness. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist. May I please have a do-over?”
She sighed. “Okay, one more chance. But pull that again and I’m declaring a win.”
“Okay,” he whispered as she drew closer. With his thumbs, he peeled back the lip of her pouch, then took his time, lining the rim with soft teasing kisses.
“Much nicer.” Marce put her paws behind his head and ran her fingers through the soft fur behind his ears. When he slipped his tongue deep inside her pouch, she closed her eyes and moaned, enjoying the tease. “Oh, Ateri,” she sighed as his tongue touched her depths.
The confined space had been ripe with his musk, but this round was changing all that. The fur beneath her tail was growing damper by the moment and her scent was starting to eclipse his own.
As he licked his way back up, he dragged his tongue over her left nipple, making her gasp.
“Like that?” came his muffled voice.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” she whispered.
He started to say something that sounded like, “Yes, ma’am,” but Marce pushed his muzzle back inside her pouch.
Ateri put his paws behind her, cupping her bottom on either side of her strong tail. And with his lips and tongue, he made her nipples his playthings—sucking on them, nipping them, even blowing on them until they turned hard.
When her legs turned to jelly, she nearly stumbled, but his strong grip on her backside held her up until she could get legs beneath her once more.
His ears grinned wide, and she gave him a grin. “Okay, that was nice.”
“Better than snorfling?”
“Much.” Marce stepped over to the bottle and gave it a whirl. When it stopped, she froze in place.
Part 4
“Well?” Ateri asked, his ears high atop his head.
“I win!” she squealed. “And you are a loser!”
Marce jumped up on the mattress and bounced in place, ducking low to keep from banging her head. “Loser! Loser! Loser!” she taunted.
Ateri crossed his arms, waiting for the victory dance to finish. “Done yet?” he groaned as she spun about, but Marce lifted her tail high and thrust her butt at him.
“Loser! Loser! Loser!” she laughed, swinging her hips wide with each tease.
He rolled his eyes. “You act like it was such a big accomplishment, getting the bottle to stop on your slice. It was all luck.”
She lowered her voice to a whisper but continued to thrust her hips at him. “Ateri’s a sore loser. Ateri’s a sore loser,” she sang.
He groaned. “Do you want your prize or not?”
“Oh, yes! Yes, I do!” she giggled. She flopped down on her back, draping her long tail across the deck. Then she propped herself up on an elbow and spread her legs wide. With her free paw, she snapped her fingers and pointed just beyond the mattress’s edge. “Kneel before the winner and pay up.” Then, lowering her voice, she added, “Because you got me all sorts of worked up that last round, and I need some relief.”
He squatted down before her, sitting on one hip. He ran his fingers over her thighs, stroking her golden fur. “Do you need to watch me?” he asked as he leaned over her.
“Yup.”
With a sigh, Ateri planted his face down in the wet fur, licking furiously. Marce gasped and threw her head back so hard that a cloud of dust drifted up from the foam. When he paused, she managed to stammer, “Ch-cheater…”
He grinned and eased her knees back apart before beginning again, licking far slower and more gently this time.
In geroo, female genitalia have two distinct components that keep them from jumping into sex without any foreplay. The “lock” is a muscular orifice that evolved to accept the male’s penis, and the “key” is a nerve-rich tab of skin located just above the lock’s entrance. After sex, muscles in the lock contract, keeping the male from pulling out before he climaxes, but before sex—and between sexual encounters—the lock remains constricted tight. The only way for a guy to get his gal to “unlock” is by stimulating her key. Fortunately for the females, the males have an instinctual desire to handle this particular aspect of their foreplay orally.
Ateri put his lips around Marce’s key. Though tiny in comparison to a penis, the little pink nub had already grown hard turned dark red; it stuck up through her fur begging for his attention. He cupped his paws beneath her as if she were a fine chalice from medieval Gerootec. He took his time, exploring her with his lips—the tendons in her inner thighs, the downy fur that thinned down to nothing in the middle, the curves of the flesh beneath it, presenting herself to him, begging for his attention.
The muscles in her legs—still tensed after his little retaliation—slowly relaxed as he explored her. In his grip, she seemed to melt away. When she finally relaxed, he began to lick her—gently and tenderly, exploring the edges of her key before then dragging his soft tongue across it.
A shudder rippled through her and she moaned. She pressed her palms against her eyes. “Oh yeah, like that,” she whispered. “That’s how you earn a high score.” He said nothing, but his ears spread wide at her approval. He licked her again and again, unhurried, gentle, encouraging her muscular lock to relax its grip.
Marce arched her back with a sigh. Her leg brushed against his side, along his spine, pulling him closer until her ankle rested across his shoulder.
In his mouth, Ateri could feel the hard flesh begin to soften, to yield slightly to his touch. Ever so slowly, her lock relaxed, the tightly puckered skin below her key, opening like a flower. He tilted his head, drawing his tongue across her opening. Marce’s muscles tightened once more, pushing his tongue away before relaxing again.
“Turd,” she grumbled, and though she could feel him stifle a laugh, his tongue and lips remained on task, caressing her key.
Marce’s lock relaxed fully, but Ateri ignored it, focusing all his attention on her key. He licked it slowly, moving his lips to encompass the entire area. He slowly built up speed but kept a steady rhythm, driving her harder and faster as he went along.
Suddenly, she gasped and pulled away, panting, but Ateri remained where he was, resting his weight on his palms. “Done so soon?” he asked with a smile. “Could hurt your final score.”
“Not at all,” she said, turning her head slightly and lifting her nose. “Just taking a time-out to change positions.”
“As you wish,” he said, sitting back.
He watched as she got up on her knees. She really wished there were a pillow on this bed, something to squeeze to her chest, but the mattress was just a bare scrap of foam. She gathered it in her arms the best she could and rested her cheek, ignoring the thing’s aroma. When at last she was comfortable, Marce lifted her tail. “Time-in,” she declared.
She grinned, purring a quiet noise, then listened as he grumbled, sticking his head beneath her tail, craning his neck so he could continue with his assigned task. But he proved to be a good sport, and on finding a somewhat comfortable angle to work from, he went back to licking her key.
“Oh, right there,” she sighed, gently rocking her hips as he worked. “I like that.”
Though one arm supported his weight, he other touched her side, his fingers sliding through golden fur while he licked her key.
“Oh, Ateri,” she moaned, “now, I think I’d like for you to grab my scruff.”
He groaned. “Is this a new rule also?”
Marce ignored his taunt. “I didn’t say stop.”
With the paw on her side, he reached farther around until he’d found the thicker fur on the back of her neck. He gathered up her loose scruff and pulled it tight in a fist. Her arms and legs went rigid. She moaned.
Like many, Marce felt that scruffing was one of the best perks to being a female geroo. An evolutionary quirk had tied the sensation to a submission response, and while a lover held it tight, she would gladly wait, calm and still while he—or she—lavished their affections on her. While scruffed, she would be off in her own head, disassociated from time, as if her mind had transcended to a plane of carnal pleasures.
Ateri’s fingers released her scruff and her consciousness slammed back into her mortal body. She opened her eyes, glaring slightly. “Why’d you stop?”
“I can’t reach,” he groaned as he started shuffling around her. “If you want me to lick you and scruff you at the same time, I’m going to need to change positions.”
“Oh, Ateri,” she sighed as if he were simple. “I know you’re a clever guy. Certainly, you can think of some way to make me feel good while holding my scruff.”
He hesitated before his ears went wide. “I’ve … heard of a way.”
She closed her eyes once more. “Don’t keep me waiting.”
So, Ateri got up on his knees behind her. Scooting up beneath her tail, he reached between them and grasped hold of his shaft, then spent a little time stroking it across her wet lock until his pink skin was slippery. Then he lined himself up and slid into her depths.
He felt so damn good inside her! With her father being the admiral, it was hard to find anyone brave enough to bed her. Travelling around from ship to ship hadn’t helped either, so she’d spent most of her evenings with fingers in her own lock, fantasizing about moments just like this.
With his dick fully hilted, Ateri reached over her, gathering up her scruff in his paws. He pulled the loose skin tight, and her body went rigid once more. Her mind went where it would.
Though she could satisfy her needs on the nights she spent alone, she’d never found a way to scruff herself, so this was a special treat indeed!
Up under her tail and a million miles away, Ateri slid himself out and then back in once more. But inside her head, Marce felt pleasure without bounds. She had no desires, no urges, she just drifted free in an ocean of ecstasy, only dimly aware of the specifics.
Ateri grunted, thrusting his hips against hers, her scruff in his paws like the reigns of some extinct beast. Ears low and jaw tensed, the slender teen humped away until he began to pant. Then, he pulled up on her scruff, and she rose to meet him, hardly even realizing that she’d climbed up from her elbows to her palms.
He put her scruff in his jaws, holding it firmly but gently so he could wrap his arms around her, so she could take his weight. He put one arm around her chest, pulling her close. The other arm he slipped around her belly, sliding the tips of his fingers into the pleasant warmth of her pouch.
He humped her harder now, lifting his weight up off his knees, digging his toes into the mattress, his balls waving to and fro with each motion. Marce made only soft moans, but inside her head, she was screaming out his name with unbridled passion.
Ateri panted hard around the scruff in his mouth, trying to catch his breath. At last, he reared up, shoving hard with his legs, and pushing her hips back with one paw, he drove his knot inside her lock. Her muscles tightened around him, gripping him.
Trapped, the tall male was gripped by an instinctual panic. He let loose of her scruff and scrambled to escape, but her body gripped him far too well. The tugging sensation set off climaxes in them both, and they tumbled from their knees as the spasms took them.
Finally returned to full awareness, Marce cried out, “You’re on my tail! You’re on my tail!”
Ateri apologized all over himself as he lifted his hip off of her. He was still buried deep, but he did his best slide to a more comfortable position.
“Oh. Oh. Oh, wow,” he huffed as he worked to catch his breath.
“Wow, indeed,” she groaned. Marce reached down between her legs, but her muscles were cramped up tighter than she could ever remember them feeling. Her fingers came back slick with bodily fluids, both hers and his combined and whipped into a frothy mess by his efforts. She flopped her head back down and wiped her fingers on the mattress.
“Thanks for making good on your loss, Ateri,” she groaned, “and for giving me the most … graceless lay I’ve ever had.”
Ateri yarped hard and covered his ears with his paws. “I’m sorry, Marce. I panicked. I tried to control it, but I wasn’t expecting it to be so…” He shrugged at a loss.
“That’s okay,” she whispered, reaching around, and taking his paw. “But you’ll understand when I knock off points for such a disastrous dismount.”
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Reviewer's link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1gLepLJ4vaT1-pk-kFekbHoaZp9hExIbkrpYiKuhxvBo/edit?usp=sharing
Thoughts?