Kinkmeme the Second! (Courtesy the Bee Embuzzy)

[preuxchevalier]

We have collected fantazztic lore from the Hand'zz and the Monk'zz pozzzzezzzzionzz! It dezzcribezz the mozzt wondrouzz actzz of contortion and romance. We wish to experience more of thizz for our cultural zztudiezz that we may better azzzzizzt the Lamb!

The Bee Embuzzy implorezz you for your help. Pleazze help uzz to learn of the many wayzz of pleazzure and pazzzzion that we may better zzerve!

We welcome all other lore of zzimple romance, too. Thezze are mozzt foreign conceptzz to beezz! Perhapzz if you leave a note (zzigned or not) of a particular act, otherzz may be able to explain more.

Thank you for your help!

[You know kinkmemes! Have at 'em with prompts and fills below. Written or drawn are all loved.]

Comments

[(Anonymous)]

Perhaps against the counter in the nuritionblock isn't the most appropriate place to be doing this. Callused fingertips run up her hips and lift her and in the moment she can't find it in her to express that opinion. The logistics of having sex in different places had already been spoken upon after that time pressed against the door and it had been mutually agreed upon that the act was well worth the cleanup. Besides, on top of the counter is not the same as against it, she could admit.

In the times since their first, she's reconciled that he'll never completely fit in her. Meulin just isn't made for him in the right way. They've learned to manage. His short thrusts were more than enough stimulation for her and twining her bulge around him certainly stimulated what he can't fit. Nemo's learned the spots around her horns to stroke and she learned the right way to angle herself to push that tiny bit more of him in. Each time is better and different, unique.

He commented once that lubrication was never a problem with her and she could only chalk it up to species difference, because of course it would never be. His very touch had genetic material dripping down her legs, and he touches her slippery bulge, strokes it with fingertips and lets them slide wet and green down to her nook. Her head hits the cabinet behind her with his fingers inside, just two for now, but he slowly stretches her and maybe--maybe she can fit him some day if she can make her body work with her. Lips on her neck now and she will apologize later--maybe--for the way her claws dig across his back. Green slicked fingers slide up to her waist and pull her a little closer.

She stops him with a soft kiss, her hands reaching to touch him this time. Everything about him is unique and she's always touching, gripping him as he's hard and soft all at once. Her claws are gentle this time, just grazing over his balls. He's so strange and she laughs as a thought comes to mind.

"What?" He looks a little put out to be laughed at with her touching him, but she strokes him as an apology, enjoying the small amount of genetic material he leaks. Another difference she enjoys.

"It's just a good thing I'm not really a purrbeast, that's all." She kisses his neck, shoulder, cheek. His facial hair tickles in a strange way but she enjoys it.

"...I'm going to deliberately pretend I didn't hear that." His hips shift forward and he slides in, just a little, just enough to make her go still and make her laughter die. He slowly slides just a little more in and she slowly moves to meet him. It's hard to tell if he gets any deeper, if she takes anymore of him in--the sensation of being so full is too much to take in details. Her bulge winds around him without much thought and the tip swirls down over his balls, lifting and coating them.

"D-Don't worry, I'm always careful with you." And god she is, she always is. He might not know how she restrains herself in these moments, how she could curl around and bite his bones in half--but she doesn't want to think about his fragility right now. His hands are strong at her waist. He's hard and so big inside her. He's perfect.

They're both moving now--god she'd never moved with Signless, it had all been between them and what movement had been done had been with claws and teeth and muffling their cries. Slowly, but eagerly now, she strokes him and he whispers in her ear everything she thought she might never hear again. Beautiful, amazing, how she feels and she could cry in that moment. She could cry but what a waste it would be to bring tears into these moments. She can only whisper these things back and as minutes pass, the whispers turn to frantic moans and gasps.

She's quieter than he might like, a lifetime of hiding her passion behind closed doors and in the depth of caves--where being heard meant being killed. He's a little louder as if to make up for it, their noises mixing between them and the warmth of the air between them makes up for the cold outside that seeps in through the edges of windows.

In the end, it's sudden and quiet. Her arms fling back to keep herself on the countertop when her body trembles and quakes and his face presses against her chest in heavy pants and god, every time she wishes she could make this moment last forever. The contentment, the quiet sounds of breathing and the warmth of their bodies pressed together, twined together, connected.

Her legs swing around his back, holding him there for just a little longer. Preserving that connection.

[oldhippie]

CANON! (If Terra is cool with that.)