Kieran's Lover
Chapter 1:Me and Kieran

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Ma, Consensual, NonConsensual, Reluctant, Mind Control, Gay, Fiction, Furry, Were animal, Rough, Light Bond, First, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Bestiality,

Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1:Me and Kieran - A set of short scenes concerning the great cat and his enthusiastic human lover.

And what exactly do you tell the guy who has just asked you that annoying burning question: Are you sure? What am I supposed to say to that? I want him, that's obvious enough, but there must be fear in my eyes or he wouldn't have asked at all. He'd have just done it. Kieran's outline is familiar above me, his long hair plaited back, long loose strands still falling around us, like spider silk on my hot skin. His touch is cool, he is dark against my skin, his soft black fur velvet. His breathing is slow and heavy, mine is quick and gasping and rough. My heart is hammering in my chest and I'm nervous. He's knows it's my first time.

Blue eyes are intense with lust as he leans in, his short rounded muzzle nuzzling against my neck and his tongue paints the hollow above my collarbone. He kisses a path up my neck and whispers in my ear, his voice as soft as the falls of his padded feet when he walks.

"Are you sure?" Everything he doesn't say is obvious, the inference that if I want to stop he won't mind. After all, it's not like we haven't been like this before, both hot and horny, all gasping, my pupils blown and with a raging hard on. But every time I stop him from fully undressing me, every time. I don't know why exactly but I know he finds it hard, frustrating, damaging on the ego. I know he thinks about me when he's jacking off.

This time it's different, the sound of his voice almost makes me lose control. I said that I wanted to, I said those words. I want you to fuck me. Crude phrase sounding strange in my usually soft voice as his growl grates in want. His tail switches from side to side, flicking like a whip. His hold on me is strange, strong fingers, corded muscle all over him, tension like steel in his arms as he holds me, one hand on my hip, the other on the front of my trousers. He's shaking, forcing himself to hold back, even though I can see his erection, alarmingly big, lurking in the dark shadows of his groin. He kisses me, hot and hard and hungry, his flexible tongue overpowering mine, delving into my mouth. I offer myself up to him, all my secrets his. The knowledge that I love him is no stranger to either of us.

"Are you sure?" He's asking me for the third time, and I know that twist in his voice, a kind of resigned impatience, his thinks I'm going to push him away, again. I'm scared, but not of the creature above me, my Kieran, half man half cat and none of either. Purely himself. His ears are flat back against his skull, the blue sheen of his hair and fur highlighting his muscles, the shape of his abs, the tension in him.

"Yes!" I can barely get the word out, my throat is closed, my oxygen starved body shaking, "Yes! I want it. I want you. Kieran..." He kisses me again, and his hands move on the front of my jeans, undoing the buckle and the fly, drawing them off my hips. He's still shaking, trying not to scare me, trying to be gentle, although I know that it's not his nature to be.

He pulls me completely from my clothes and looks at me, this pale skinned boy spread out on his bed. I'm hard as I can ever remember being. The sensations are new and strange as he lowers himself over me. His fur on my thighs, the sweep of his tail, the end winding around my left knee, almost ticklish. His erection rests against my hip, right next to my own, a point of shared passion and heat. His kisses me and I kiss him back, ignoring the threat of his sharp fangs, wanting to devour him and have him devour me at the same time. He kisses my chest and strokes my hair with one hand.

On his knees he lifts my shaking legs up over his shoulders, sliding a pillow beneath my hips. I can see the strain in every movement, the shuddering of his chest. His fingers are wet and cold when they come into contact with my skin. I swear I'm on fire, but I wasn't paying enough attention and the shock of the cold makes me flinch. He smoothes his hand against my entrance and then I hear his hands slicking his own cock. His breathing is ragged. My breathing has almost stopped. I feel him nudge me and freeze. He leans in his face close to mine, one hand on my leg, the other caressing the side of my jaw.

"Remember," his breath is hot on my face, "Remember to breathe. Just breathe."

Urged on by him, knowing that if I do what I'm told this will be easier I take a deep breath, and another, and then I force a third as I feel him begin to push. The pain, oh how it hurts! There is pleasure mixed up in it true, but the force seems overpowering, stretching my nerves until it seems like I'm about to snap. Anymore and I'll die. But he keeps going, slow and steady until finally, with an exhalation like a prayer of thanks, he stops, sheathed in me all the way.

"Breathe love," he murmurs, dipping his head down to kiss my neck, "Breathe, come on, good boy." With every breath I take I become more comfortable, until I am aware of not only my own sensations, but his as well, the stress of his muscles as he waits for me to adjust, the torturous pleasure being inside me is causing him.

Finally he starts moving, pulling out, pushing back, forcing himself to be slow, be gentle. He's holding my hips, stopping me from moving, even though now, as the pain fades, I want nothing more than to thrust up again him, to feel him in me more fully.

I want you, I think, I want you more. More please, harder.

And to my surprise I hear him chuckle. His strokes become faster, harder. He slams into me, against me and I cry out with the pleasure of it all as his fluid fast movements find something in me that I didn't know was there, causing pleasure like fire to flow through me. In a way, I'm not surprised that he can hear my thoughts, being so strange as he is, but it nearly trips me over the edge when I hear his words in my head, even as he pants and groans above me on the bed.

You're delicious, oh my love. So hot and fantastic. Thank you, thank you for letting me have you. My beautiful, my darling.

I cry out, keening pleasure to the ceiling, but I can't break out of his lovely opalescent gaze. His eyes hold me even as I rise against him, out hips meeting every stroke, our bodies moving in tandem, soaked in sweat.

I love you! The thought strikes out even as I explode, unable to take anymore pleasure and live. Kieran thrusts into me, a growling purr winding from his throat, the sound rising as I feel him inside me. His eyes glaze over as he stills, suddenly stiff, and I feel him, more strange and brilliant than anything, flow into me in a heated rush. Suddenly the tension in him breaks and his shoulders sag visibly. Slowly he pulls himself from me, and his absence is as strange now as his invasion was before. My legs fall to the bed and, seemingly without caring for the mess I have made between us, settles down onto me. His kiss is sweet, soft, and he is still panting with exertion. His tail unwraps from my leg and flops between his thighs.

"Sorry," he presses his muzzle to my forehead and I look down both out bodies at the blossoming spiral bruise that has been left around my calf by his tail, "I'll be more careful next time. I promise."

I lick his neck, loving the salt taste of his fur.

"That was amazing." I love you.

"Thank you." I know. I love you also.

Slowly we roll over, until Kieran is lying on his back and I am curled into his side. I stroke the fur under my hand and let myself go. His thoughts follow me into my dreams, soft words I know the meaning of but can't understand. I doesn't matter, we know each other too well for something like words to matter too much.

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