Caption Pic: Felicia's Primal Urges (Patreon)

Somebody on a thread had a request for a caveman-like Felicia falling for and randomly mounting a guy. Just quick and easy. Man, am I unwittingly falling into a lot of monstergirl writing, and I only realize it when I label the tags on these posts.

I had been visiting Felicia ever since I found her out in the wilderness. She not what I’d traditionally call intelligent, but she’s not quite an animal. And that’s saying nothing of her ridiculous muscles and curves. However, the amazon of a catgirl has been nothing but sweet towards me. She’s started leaving bits of meat at my door, either a sign of affection or her indicating that I’m too weak to hunt for myself. I return the favor by visiting her often, and today we’re taking a walk out in the fields. She seems quite happy and content out here with you. I know how cats prefer to have places to hide or retreat to, but she’s far less skittish knowing that she’s seven feet tall with paws that could crush a bear’s skull.

She randomly pauses to stare curiously at a flower, squatting as she sticks out her muscular butt and lightly prods at it. I ask her what’s wrong, and she gives me this bright-eyed stare as she looks me all over. “Felicia looky flower!” she said in her primitive and brutish language. “Felicia think is pretty!” She carefully plucks it between two of her massive claws and holds it up to you with a delicate gesture, clearly careful knowing both my and the flower’s inherent fragility after my first few bruises. “Felicia think you is pretty too.”

I laugh and take the flower. “Thank you, Felicia,” I say, genuine and careful with her as well. She seems happy but a bit shy around me sometimes. At first I thought she might be scared, but the way she prances when I praise or flatter her, she seems to just be obsessed with what I must think of her. She’s already grinning hugely, her muscular thighs pumping as she bobs up and down to make her fur-laced breasts bounce. Her hair is long and wild, but I’d helped her clean up from the dirt-covered wild woman I had first encountered.

“Well, Felicia, you are very pretty too,” I assure her, and she flashes this huge, fanged smile of raw delight. I tuck the flower into the collar of my shirt, but apparently that qualified for consent as far as Felicia is concerned. Like some primitive wedding proposal, and by accepting that we were both “pretty,” she stands up (as much as her hunched and powerful body tends to) and shoves me to the ground. I land flat on my back, the grass higher than my body as she makes laughably easy work of my clothes with her powerful hands and claws.

“So pretty boy!” she purrs, eyes wide and almost feral-looking without losing their bright blue beauty. I’m naked in seconds as she grabs my legs, folding them up and mounting me before I’m even properly hard. She doesn’t seem to care, because she’s ridiculously wet between her legs. Her tufts of fur normally over up her privates, but her nipples are so hard and her pussy so far open that it falls short of its usual purpose. Her twat runs over my rod like a drooling mouth while her hungry lips lock onto mine in the same fashion. Her powerful arms hold my legs steady, so I couldn’t hump back even if I wanted to. She has absolute control, absorbing my penis inside of her as she takes what she thinks is hers.

“Pretty boy!” she rants in her low voice. She’s humping faster, unbelievably fast thanks to her animalistic libido and muscular thighs. “Felicia love pretty boy. Felicia love making kittens with pretty boy most of all! Make pretty boy mine! All mine!” She drools over my face and chest, too absorbed in fucking me to care about my opinions on the matter. Not that it’s awful! God, it is amazing to feel that strong, soaking pussy and those tree-climbing thighs at work! But my pleasure seems to be a happy side effect of our mating as she grunts and huffs on top of me. Her pussy juices are so thick and abundant that they run down my stomach, her neanderthal noises going in time with her thrusts as if fueled by her most basic instincts. “Uhn! Uhn uhn!” she huffs as if some savage declaration. As her passion and arousal grow, her rapid sounds turn into thrilled and wordless screams. I can faintly hear birds and other wildlife flee from her booming voice. Her deep, drooling shouts come as if they are the most important thing in the world... short of her getting off on my hard and leaking cock.