Read Online Sixes Wild: Manifest Destiny by Tempe O'Kun - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Tempe O'Kun
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upside down would be a bad choice.” He sweeps a wing up at the rafters. The wing I didn’t shoot.
I look up, wondering for an instant what the devil he’s on about, then I see it. One of the beams is covered in scratches. I may be unschooled, but I ain’t slow: those are from him hanging by his hind claws, as bats do when they sleep. A smile runs across my muzzle as I wonder if he would ever take me up there with him.
My paws slide down the insides of his wings, tracing over the membranes to the tips of his wing bones. He shivers, then watches as I slide these paws a’ mine up the edge of his left wing, finding the thumb and leading me to the bed. Not sure what I really plan to do with him; a girl like me don’t get much play. Well, any. But it feels so nice to have his body against mine. I’ve got a touch of the nerves by now and I fear if I stop I’ll freeze up and not be able to start again.
I sit down and he follows suit beside me. He’s got his wings curled across his lap, his ears perked, and looks darling. I lean down and kiss him again, then rest my cheek against his, breathing soft. “Aww, see? Beds ain’t so bad.”
“No, I guess not.” His breath stirs the hair of my ear as he talks. I’m not one to get all namby-pamby over some blowhard beefer, but this pretty little fruit bat is just so sweet. Helps too that he’s half-wise competent with his iron. At present, though, his gun is digging under my ribs, so I slip my paw under his wings to undo the belt. I’ve got it off before I feel the reason he was covering his lap.
“Hey, now!” He sounds a trifle unsteady, wiggling back from me a bit. “You’re disarming a lawman!”
“Feels to me like ya got plenty of iron left down there, Sheriff.” I set his gunbelt on the nightstand, respectfully pointing the grip toward the bed.
Through the dark I see his ears drop, but he gives a little laugh. His wings come up and touch my face on either side. He moves up to kiss me, again all tender and slow. I lean down, kissing back. After a second, his tongue flicks against my lips.
At first I flinch, then I can’t help but chuckle at the feeling. Feeling the need to go a-wandering, my paws rub over his thighs. “Ah do declare, sir, just what kind of lady do you take me for?”
Before he can answer, I find his penis and give it a squeeze. He squeaks in a manner most satisfying. Through the fabric of his long johns, it feels hot and generally pleasing, though not stone hard like you’d hear in your less classy barroom tales. There’s a certain give to it, a vulnerable softness letting you know it’s just flesh, same as you. My fingers dance around the high point in the fabric as I build up my courage. By the way he’s breathing, doesn’t seem he minds.
He’s still busy gasping while I unbutton the long johns. I fish around inside for a moment, feeling the warm fuzz of his sac, then pull him out for a little look-see. It’s dark in his bedroom, so I’ve got to bend down to see much. The first thing I notice is his scent, all warm and musky. I have a bit of sympathy for the good sheriff, cuddling up to me like he did while I was in the middle of heat. I’m feeling about as flustered as he must have been, not to mention getting rather tingly and slick in my personal business.
I’ve seen the equipment under a pony and this isn’t too different. Blessedly smaller, however. Sleek little knob on the end, sort of like a saddle horn, though the neck of it is longer. It’s got a slight damp to it, especially at the tip. The shaft slides smooth under the fur of my fingers. Once I get about three-quarters of the way down the texture changes, gets a bit thicker too. This must be where it retracts to once the fella’s done with it.
Speaking of the man, while I’m figuring through all this, the sheriff is whimpering like a calf just out of teat range. Poor thing. I’ve got him in my paws now and got no clue what to do with him. Sure, I’ve lusted
I look up, wondering for an instant what the devil he’s on about, then I see it. One of the beams is covered in scratches. I may be unschooled, but I ain’t slow: those are from him hanging by his hind claws, as bats do when they sleep. A smile runs across my muzzle as I wonder if he would ever take me up there with him.
My paws slide down the insides of his wings, tracing over the membranes to the tips of his wing bones. He shivers, then watches as I slide these paws a’ mine up the edge of his left wing, finding the thumb and leading me to the bed. Not sure what I really plan to do with him; a girl like me don’t get much play. Well, any. But it feels so nice to have his body against mine. I’ve got a touch of the nerves by now and I fear if I stop I’ll freeze up and not be able to start again.
I sit down and he follows suit beside me. He’s got his wings curled across his lap, his ears perked, and looks darling. I lean down and kiss him again, then rest my cheek against his, breathing soft. “Aww, see? Beds ain’t so bad.”
“No, I guess not.” His breath stirs the hair of my ear as he talks. I’m not one to get all namby-pamby over some blowhard beefer, but this pretty little fruit bat is just so sweet. Helps too that he’s half-wise competent with his iron. At present, though, his gun is digging under my ribs, so I slip my paw under his wings to undo the belt. I’ve got it off before I feel the reason he was covering his lap.
“Hey, now!” He sounds a trifle unsteady, wiggling back from me a bit. “You’re disarming a lawman!”
“Feels to me like ya got plenty of iron left down there, Sheriff.” I set his gunbelt on the nightstand, respectfully pointing the grip toward the bed.
Through the dark I see his ears drop, but he gives a little laugh. His wings come up and touch my face on either side. He moves up to kiss me, again all tender and slow. I lean down, kissing back. After a second, his tongue flicks against my lips.
At first I flinch, then I can’t help but chuckle at the feeling. Feeling the need to go a-wandering, my paws rub over his thighs. “Ah do declare, sir, just what kind of lady do you take me for?”
Before he can answer, I find his penis and give it a squeeze. He squeaks in a manner most satisfying. Through the fabric of his long johns, it feels hot and generally pleasing, though not stone hard like you’d hear in your less classy barroom tales. There’s a certain give to it, a vulnerable softness letting you know it’s just flesh, same as you. My fingers dance around the high point in the fabric as I build up my courage. By the way he’s breathing, doesn’t seem he minds.
He’s still busy gasping while I unbutton the long johns. I fish around inside for a moment, feeling the warm fuzz of his sac, then pull him out for a little look-see. It’s dark in his bedroom, so I’ve got to bend down to see much. The first thing I notice is his scent, all warm and musky. I have a bit of sympathy for the good sheriff, cuddling up to me like he did while I was in the middle of heat. I’m feeling about as flustered as he must have been, not to mention getting rather tingly and slick in my personal business.
I’ve seen the equipment under a pony and this isn’t too different. Blessedly smaller, however. Sleek little knob on the end, sort of like a saddle horn, though the neck of it is longer. It’s got a slight damp to it, especially at the tip. The shaft slides smooth under the fur of my fingers. Once I get about three-quarters of the way down the texture changes, gets a bit thicker too. This must be where it retracts to once the fella’s done with it.
Speaking of the man, while I’m figuring through all this, the sheriff is whimpering like a calf just out of teat range. Poor thing. I’ve got him in my paws now and got no clue what to do with him. Sure, I’ve lusted
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