AJoeOfSubjectiveQuality

He could feel her reaction, her hand ceasing running through his hair. He moved forward, extending his tongue fully and pressing it flat against her lips, the tip pressing slightly into her slit. Then, with exaggerated slowness her drew it upwards towards where he hoped her sweet pearl would be.

Miu's reactions were not at all what Jason was expecting. Unlike a virginal human woman who still might know what to expect, it was like she was discovering the concept of physical pleasure for the first time. The experience was such a turn-on that his loins churned, and he had to exert physical, painful effort to quash an orgasm. She was touching him more freely now, exploring his body as well. She seemed to be trying for control as much as he was, only managing her claws against his flesh. He smiled to himself as he slowly began to drift downwards, using his tongue again to trace sinuous trails along the beads of water clinging to her flesh. He enjoyed a little pain along with his pleasure, and he was looking forward to the time when she would be confident enough to use her claws and especially her teeth to full advantage. An image flashed through his mind of the young wolf-woman bending over him, smiling as she took the head of his cock into her mouth, lightly dragging her teeth across the sensitive head. Mistake; he had to pause for a minute, pressing her body to him whilst he regained control of himself. But he could no longer deny either of them what came next. Pausing only to place a few gentle kisses on her bare mound, he moved a bit lower and, carefully not touching flesh he deeply exhaled warm breath into the small gap between her thighs.

"Mmmmmm," he moaned softly in approval as Miu touched him for the first time. Her reactions were ... confusing. Clearly she is a seasoned fighter, but her body language is giving him vibes that she was unfamiliar with intimate touch. Perhaps her people didn't put much effort into pleasure over basic reproduction? Curious, but delightful to be introducing her as it is to passion and pleasure. "You are so lovely, Miu," he murmured as he brushed his lips along her neck and down to her shoulder, pausing every now and then for small kisses to her flesh. He once had heard that the French had a saying, 'the perfect breast fits into a champagne glass.' If so, hers were nearly perfect. Ayers took a holistic approach to physical beauty, and her small breasts complimented her athletic frame, suggesting a lifestyle of running and hunting in the trees and under the sky. He'd never met one of the legendary Amazons, but he imagined that they might be close to Miu's defined yet feminine form. His kisses were moving lower now, across to her breastbone and then to the top of her delightful boobs. He let the tip of his tongue graze her flesh as he went. Looking up into her wonderful crimson eyes, he kissed one of her pretty nipples. And again. And then he began to tease her in earnest, tracing his tongue along the tiny bumps of her areola and the sides of her nipple, lightly sucking her flesh into his mouth as his right hand moved to her other side. He brushed her other nipple with his thumb, circling it and rubbing across as his fingers wrapped around her ribcage. "So lovely."

Miu's teeth made kisses extra thrilling. He allowed his hands to drift down her back, feeling the firm muscles under her smooth flesh. After a minute or two of letting her get used to kisses, he leaned into her embrace and thrilled when their nipples brushed. Going slowly was agony, but he suspected that she couldn't be rushed. Yet.

Did her people kiss? Should he stick to nuzzling? Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Slowly he leaned in for a kiss, giving her room to withdraw if she needed to.

Her ears were a delight. He lightly traced his fingers along the back where they met her scalp before running them down to her cheeks and brushing his thumb across her lower lip. The feel of her body against his was intoxicating. He slowly bent his knees to come down to her eye level, looking into her big ruby eyes.

Even through the shower, Miu smelled of the fields in the Summer sunshine, wildflowers and berries. Her skin glistened under the water like an otter. He looked into her eyes, and moved to run his fingers through her hair.

Relief. Jason held out his hand to lead her to the shower. It was still set just as he'd left it. Letting go, he stepped under the water. He wasn't sure she was familiar with showers, but the similarity to a Summer rain was unmistakable. He let the water wet his hair for a moment, and then smiled at her and invited her to join him.

Edepol! He had to breathe deeply just to prevent himself from going before he'd even finished undressing. She was trim and sleek like an otter, with nipples just begging for kisses. With her ears and tail, her finger claws and teeth, she was exotic and unique from the women of his earth. His ardor quickly cooled as he dropped his trousers, feeling self-conscious. He would never have starred in a porn movie at home; his erection was a reasonable five inches long or so, pretty average. But what made him feel like a mutant freak was its girth. A tape measure would have shown six and a half inches, much larger in circumference than length. Some women were fascinated by it. Some actually screamed and fled half-dressed from it. Normally he was amused or indifferent, but now he was apprehensive. She was so petite. But surprisingly and refreshingly casual about undressing with him. Ayers held his breath.

He smiled as she began to undress as well. Frankly, the camaraderie of the baths was one thing he missed greatly from his old life although mixed bathing was taboo both there and in the onsen. He preferred the company of pretty young women to cranky old men who only seemed to complain. He wondered if the hotel had a communal hot tub or banya in addition to the one in his room. As he pulled his undershirt over his head, he wondered how she would react to his body hair. He'd always been on the hirsute side, and he was no arena fighter to shave and oil himself so that his muscles glistened in the sun. Vanity. No thank you. He'd also noticed her scars for the first time. Some people would be offput by them, but on Miu they seemed wholly natural and just served to accent her beauty. He wondered what she would think of his own set. The one just beneath his left nipple still made him wince when he thought about it, from a poniard thrust seeking his heart. Never trust a left-handed duelist; he'd wear that lesson forever.

Frustrated, Jason dropped the pad and the pencil in his lap and just looked at the girl-wolf. He was frustrated; he wanted very much to be able to talk with her, or communicate somehow. She tilted her head. It was one of those small gestures that a woman can make that can amplify her attractiveness by a hundredfold without her even realizing it; a thousand-pound bomb of pure sexual desire exploding at once. His face grew warm, his fatigue fell away, and he was getting so damned hard that it was painful. Oh to hell with it, he thought. I want this. Her grooming behavior a few moments ago gave him an idea. "A moment please, my sweet?" he asked. She might not understand his words, but she seemed curious and he hoped that he could hold her interest. Opening the door to the bath, he turned on the shower, and set the temperature to slightly more than blood warm. He walked back into the room, took off his jacket and vest, and began to unknot his tie. He faced Miu, trying to not seem aggressive or overly assertive, but inviting. But he made no move to hide the bulging of his trousers; he suspected she'd know how he felt and the subterfuge would have felt wrong, anyway. She seemed like a primal being. Perhaps it was time to discard a bit of the veneer of civilization that had been thrust on him in the latter portion of his life.

Hi everyone! Sorry, I had some health and financial issues to distract me but I hope to be back posting regularly on Friday.

He returned and sat on the bed. Pointing to himself he said, "Jason." On the pad, he wrote the word JASON.

"I'm very tired, my lovely young wolf," Ayers said. "So, I hope that you'll excuse me." He sighed. "I wish that I knew your ..." A thought suddenly occurred to him, and he quickly climbed to his feet, went back into the sitting room, and fetched a sketch pad and pencil that was sitting on an end table near his chair.

Biting his lip, Ayers struggled to control his breathing. He focused on her eyes, biting his lip. His heart rate finally slowed, and he came back to her senses. "Thank you." [OOC: sorry, had a bit of a medical issue and I had to save charge on my phone until I got home.]

He couldn't breathe. His heart pounded in his temples. The voices of two women thundered in his mind. "Ata tachia ad shtashlam al hat'ehem 10,000 pa'amim!" You will live until you pay for their sins 10,000 times! "As for payment, I am afraid you have already paid." Not yet. Drowning, he reached for the small hand on his neck, his lifeline for this moment.

Touching her scar made him fight to restrain a blink; he'd forgotten about them. More accurately, his mind was ... erasing them from his view of her. He was seeing her not so much as she was but as he wished her to be. But the touch grounded him. Touch was the only true sense, the one that you cannot hide from or fool. As a result, he was a very tactile person. Not to mention that he had his own scar. Falling to the ground, the barbarian atop him ... straining to keep the knife back as he tried to force his own into the man's side ... faces inches apart, both snarling ... burning embers from a kicked fire in the melee spilled onto his neck and into his armor ... he was burning, on fire, but to lose focus was to die. Memory betrayed him in that moment and he flinched, wincing, gasping, left hand reaching up to slap out the terrible flames in his mind.

Jason slowly moved his hand forward, pausing to let his fingertips rest lightly on her cheek for a moment (God, she's so soft, and warm!) before letting them slide back into her hair. It felt thick and bushy, and natural in a way he couldn't explain. He looked into her big ruby eyes as he stroked her cheek with his thumb.

Her body language made him feel a kind of happiness that he'd not felt since he'd heard his last wife say that she'd marry him. Relief, maybe joy, something else? Without realizing it, he'd dropped to one knee to be more on her level, and he'd started to reach out for her. He didn't feel entirely in control of himself anymore. With an effort, he stopped his hand, and asked her, "May I?"

[A brief first impressions post of the room. There is a bath, sitting room, and a bedroom. The ]atter two are paneled in walnut with light brown carpets and offset walls. His armchair is a deep red leather with brass riveting and a matching footstool. In the bedroom is an ornately carved armoire, and a bookshelf holding many hardcover works of literature (from our current world), most bound in leather.] She's cautious, he thought, checking for ambushes or traps. Am I approaching her wrong? Maybe instead of being a girl with the features of a wolf, she's a wolf with the features of a girl? Or something in-between? Seeing her caution, he went ahead and opened all of the doors and even the armoire so that she could investigate them. The revolver on the wall suddenly caught his eye. I never found out, do they have guns on this world? Has she or her people been hunted? He would have to be very careful now that his past didn't threaten his present.

Ah, I really wish I could understand her body language, he thought. Ayers opened the door, and then stepped aside. "Would you like to come in?"

As he put his key into the lock, a movement to the side caught his eye. "Is that you, my little wolf?"

After they'd finished, Jason was at a loss about how to proceed. Small talk was out of the question, and he felt awkward just sitting in silence. A big yawn saved him. Getting up from his stool, he faced the young wolf-girl and said, "I'm sorry, but I must sleep now. Goodnight, my lovely." He bowed to her, and walked out.

"Thank you. Arigato gozaimasu," Ayers replied to her offer of the second plate. Whilst delighted at the gusto with which she attacked her meal, manners were no so easily overcome that he could mimic her. Discretely so as to not make her feel self-conscious, he placed the napkin on his lap and laid in with fork and knife. But the same pleasure was there; the food was delicious.

She's adorable, he thought, making him feel even more awkward. When the food arrived, he arranged the plates before her, gestured with his open hand for her to examine them as she wished, and sipped his scotch as he watched.