Chapter 16: Intoxicated

Zuki licked the grease from the fur around her mouth with her prehensile tongue, washing down the mouthful of chicken with another generous swig of beer. Fried chicken was messy at the best of times, but fortunately, Zuki was keeping it all clear of her pristine new suit. Jules had to keep reminding her not to eat the bones, her powerful jaws could certainly have handled them. She dropped another clean drumstick down onto the veritable mountain that littered her plate, the fries long since gone, lifting her can of suspicious Chinese ale and letting the last few drops of amber liquid fall onto her tongue. She reached for another can from the pack, but Jules shook his head at her.

“I think two is enough for a Borealan.”

“If you say so, my Alpha,” she replied with an overly dramatic bow of deference.

“So, what’s the verdict on chicken?”

“It tastes very much like the meat of one of our native animals,” she replied, pausing for a moment to hiccup. “There is no direct translation from Araxie to English, but roughly speaking, it is called a ‘high nester’. It’s a bird whose meat is highly prized, but they only nest high in the treetops, and they’re extremely alert creatures. Only the best and stealthiest hunters can climb the trees while making as little noise so as not to startle them and send them fluttering into the sky.”

“People say that everything tastes like chicken,” he replied, finishing off his own can. “These are the birds that I was telling you about, the ones that produce eggs like those lizards that you keep.”

“You, Jules ... you are good at preparing food,” she slurred as she pointed across the table at him, knocking over her empty can in the process. She lifted it gingerly and set it back down on the table, waiting for a moment and watching it as if she expected it to fall over again of its own accord, then she turned her attention back to Jules. “You are the best Alpha that I ever had,” she continued, “whassat human saying? My hands are down!”

She slammed her hands on the table palm-down, making her can topple over again.

“I think the phrase you’re looking for is ‘hands down’,” Jules replied. “And thank you, Zuki. I try my best.”

“You ... you cook for me,” she said as she began to list off her praises, counting on her fingers. “You teach me all about being a diplomat,” she added as she pointed to her next finger, “you tell me what I need to do. You help me bathe, and you give me massages, you rub my ears.” She looked at her hand, momentarily confused. It seemed that she had run out of fingers to count on. “You take better care of me than anyone besides the Patriarch, and that’s what a pack leader should do! It’s not just about telling people what to do, you’re supposed to ... care about your pack. My other Alphas, they were just doing their duty to the Patriarch. They didn’t really want me there, they didn’t care about me like you do...”

She stared into her plate of discarded chicken bones, her ears drooping a little as she reminisced.

“I like how humans make love,” she blurted, her ears standing up again as Jules’ cheeks began to warm. “It’s not like back home, where it’s all about ... pleasing those of higher standing. The Alpha is the center of attention, and then those at the bottom of the pack are just ... if they get any satisfaction at all, then it’s only an afterthought. But you ... the things that you do for me,” she mumbled as she trailed off and stared into space.

She seemed to hesitate for a moment, her black lips opening like she wanted to ask him a question, then closing again. Her brow furrowed with what looked like determination, and then she pushed her chair out with a creak, standing up straight. She looked so much more imposing in the suit, the bra fixing her posture, Jules getting the impression that it wasn’t the beer that was filling her with this newfound courage.

Zuki turned her back to him and walked over towards the couch, her hips rolling beneath the confining skirt. Once again, he couldn’t help but gawk at the way that it clung to her butt. She paused when she reached the living area, slipping her hands beneath the waistband, Jules feeling his heart leap in his chest as he watched her slide down the leather shorts that she had been wearing beneath it in lieu of underwear. The shorts discarded, she sauntered over to the couch and took a seat, crossing her long legs more to tease him than to preserve her modesty.

She beckoned to him with a clawed finger, Jules rising from his place at the table, his body deciding to act before his brain had even had time to weigh in. As he approached her in the gloom, she began to hike up her skirt, exposing more of her meaty thigh in invitation to him. She looked so good in that suit, like some kind of oversized, lustful CEO. He might have suggested a little office roleplay, but Zuki would have no idea what he was talking about.

She leaned forward to cup his face in her furry hands once he was in range, bringing him close for a deep, probing kiss. She was drunk and clumsy, she tasted of beer, but the lashes of her tongue were so wanton and vigorous that Jules quickly began to feel weak at the knees. She swirled her tongue around inside his mouth without sparing a thought for modesty or restraint, painting his palate with her saliva and bulging his cheeks, the pointed tip skirting the back of his throat as she pushed deeper. Their mismatched lips pressed together, Zuki piling her organ into his head like the coils of a snake until he was full almost to capacity with her squirming flesh. It was more than a simple embrace, it was too passionate for that, Zuki taking desperate breaths and letting strands of her saliva leak down his chin as they made out noisily. Why did this feel so much more intimate, more sexual than their prior encounters?

She broke off after what must have been a solid minute of kissing, her tongue sliding out of his mouth slowly, inching its way along almost as if Zuki wanted him to feel every centimeter pass his lips. It was linked to him by a thick, clear rope of her drool, which broke as she moved to whisper in his ear.

“Use your tongue on me,” she breathed, as much a plea as a command. “And when you’re done ... you can do whatever you want to me...”

She uncrossed her legs, then placed a hand on his head, guiding him down between them with a gentle pressure. He rubbed his cheek against her silky thigh affectionately as his head vanished beneath the hem of her skirt, her scent making his already rigid erection pulse against the fabric of his shorts, Zuki shivering as he slid his fingers into her silky fur. As ever, she was slightly damp, her firm muscles tensing and her supple fat spilling between his digits as he filled his hands with her shapely ass.

He pulled her skirt up a little further until she was completely exposed, remembering how her juices flowed and wanting to spare the fabric from any errant drips. He planted kisses on her belly and thighs as he neared her loins, delighting in the way that she shivered as he made her wait for it, the pink flesh that peeked out from between her puffy lips catching the light and glistening enticingly. His mouth already watering, he glanced up at Zuki, whose hand was still nestled in his hair. She had no turtleneck to hide inside this time, but she no longer seemed shy, he saw only eagerness and carnality behind those emerald irises.

He breathed warm air on her swollen loins, Zuki arching her back. He had scarcely touched her yet, and already her fur was becoming matted with her excitement. Jules stuck out his tongue and dragged it between her lips, slowly raking her vulva, her slimy emissions making it glide against her feverish flesh. He felt the firm nub of her clitoris as he reached the top, drawing back with a clear strand linking him to her. Zuki’s taste, her scent, he couldn’t get enough of it as he buried his face in her sodden fur.

Jules mouthed and kissed, sucking and licking as he splayed her labia with his fingers to expose more of her damp flesh, like the petals of a flower soaked in droplets of dew. Zuki lay back as he lapped at her sex, closing her eyes and leaning her head against the padded backrest of the couch, rolling her hips against his face with a subtle thrusting motion as she quietly enjoyed his attentions. Every glance of his tongue conveyed his lust for her, and he held nothing back, delving deep into her loins and stimulating her swollen clitoris with his nose as he pushed his tongue inside her.

Her walls gripped him as he teased them, reaching as deep inside her as he could manage. His human tongue might only have been a few inches long, but he could still use it to lick and stroke the sensitive area just beyond her spasming opening, her satin flesh rich in nerve endings. He felt her muscles bulge beneath his fingers as he dug them into the meat of her butt, Zuki sighing happily, her claws pricking his scalp in encouragement.

As he drew out of her, her insides sealed around him with surprising pressure, as though her body was trying to prevent him from pulling away. It was only thanks to how slimy her excitement made her that he was able to break free. He returned his tongue to her vulva, doting on her, listening to her quiet moans and the creaking of the couch springs as she shifted her weight.

“That’s good,” she muttered, stroking his hair as she held him down between her legs. He skirted her clitoris with his tongue, and her thighs tightened around his face, the wet strands of her fur sticking to his cheeks. “There, like that...”

He pressed his lips around it and circled it slowly, drawing on it, looking up at Zuki as she squirmed on the couch. She lurched as she felt him press a couple of fingers up against her entrance, wetting them with her emissions to make them slippery, and then gently pushing them into her narrow hole. She sucked in a sharp breath through gritted teeth as he drove them inside her, burying them up to the knuckle. She seized around him, crushing his digits together with the force of her contractions.

Zuki took hold of his hair and tugged at it gently as he began to play his tongue across her clitoris, moving his fingers inside her, sluggishly at first to keep her on edge. His pace gradually increased until the wet sounds of his digits pushing in and out of her were audible over the creaking of the couch’s frame, his tongue lashing across the little button of firm flesh.

She was so sensitive, like her senses had been kicked into overdrive, throwing her head back as her thighs trembled around his head. Her juices spilled around his fingers, viscous and hot, he could feel his fingertips wrinkling as he caressed her insides. She fought him the whole way, her luxuriously soft, yielding walls massaging him with all the strength that he had come to expect of her. When her tunnel sealed around him in a quivering contraction, he could scarcely move, and only when she released her tension could he resume his stroking.

Zuki growled as he sucked her clitoris into his mouth, battering it with his tongue, mouthing and kissing the sensitive flesh around it. She pulled his hair, stinging his scalp as she gyrated against his face, but it was an unexpectedly enjoyable sensation. Her flexible tail coiled around his waist as she fumbled with the buttons on her jacket with a shaking hand, popping it open, then doing the same with the dress shirt beneath it. She pawed at one of her breasts, delving into the fat that was contained within her sports bra, but the elastic material seemed to frustrate her. Careful not to cut it with her claws even in the throes of her ecstasy, she slipped her hand beneath it, Jules watching it begin to move beneath the fabric as she massaged her breast.

Now that her shirt was open, he could see her abs flexing in time with the grinding of her hips, her sweat refracting the light. He felt a throb of desire for her, his member flexing against the fabric of his underwear, and he redoubled his efforts despite the fact that his jaw was starting to ache. He wanted so badly to please her in that moment, his heart hammering in his chest, the heat of her loins practically making her fluids boil on his tongue.

He could gauge how close she was by the frequency that her iron muscles clenched around his fingers, and he angled them upwards, probing the roof of her tunnel. Did Borealans have G-spots? He was about to find out.

Zuki froze up as he brushed something sensitive, her body going rigid, not so much as a breath passing her lips. He began to massage her there, pushing his fingertips into her sweet spot, Zuki sagging back down into the embrace of the couch as though all of the energy had been drained from her body. She shivered with every touch, Jules rubbing her in a slow, deliberate circle. He kept up his licking as her labored breathing grew faster, his fingers driving into the sensitive bundle of nerves as his tongue flicking across her swollen, needy clitoris. This was certainly something that a Borealan could never do. Not with their fingers, in any case, unless they wanted to disembowel their partner.

He felt the pleasant sting of her pulling his hair, Zuki doubling over, her tail squeezing around his midsection like a boa constrictor. Her furry thighs engulfed his head like a warm blanket, he could feel her steely muscles flexing just beyond the layer of plush fat. He was buried in darkness, the sounds of her pained grunts muffled by her flesh, Jules undeterred as he wrapped his free arm around her thigh and kept up his frenzied pace. She forced him deeper, tugging his hair like she was trying to fuck his face, trapping him between her velvety thighs as if he had any intention of escaping.

She smelled so good, her womanly scent invading his nose with every breath that he took, her copious juices clinging to her velvety coat in a glistening web. He was surrounded on all sides by her soaking fur, her honey dripping from his chin as she ground her vulva against his lips, so hot that she might well have been trying to start a fire with the friction. He pushed her higher and higher, her back arching more and more as she pushed off the couch beneath her. Just when he thought that she might snap herself in two, she loosed a drawn-out, carnal mewl that was somewhere between the desperate cry of a kitten and the lustful moan of a woman in the throes of her climax.

A sudden orgasm rocked her body, Zuki shivering as though she had just been pulled from a freezing river, the rock-hard muscles in her powerful thighs vibrating against his cheeks as a rush of her fluids escaped around his fingers to fill his mouth. He might have pulled away in surprise, but she kept him locked to her, bucking in a desperate bid to take his fingers deeper. Jules sputtered, letting the sour fluid leak down his chin where it hung in fat ropes, too consumed by his appetite for her to pay it any mind.

Her passage was wringing him with an almost painful ferocity. He could feel every shockwave as it tore through her, wracking her glistening body, making her cry out as her muscles strangled his fingers. The intensity of her climax gradually began to subside, Zuki settling into a more gentle, more pacified rhythm of slow writhing as Jules lapped devotedly at her sensitive bud. Her thighs relaxed, releasing him from their hold, and she withdrew her fingers from his hair as she sank a second hand beneath her bra.

Jules let his digits slide out of her, the creamy fluid that coated them dripping down onto the carpet below, pulling back and giving her some respite as she collapsed into her seat. He wasn’t sure if it was her drunken state, the severity of her orgasm, or a combination of the two, but she seemed dazed and unfocused. Her head swayed back and forth, her eyelids drooping as she stared at the ceiling, occasionally biting her lip as a residual tremor teased her. She emitted a contented moan as he gave her one last lick, then he set about stroking and kissing her inner thighs and her toned belly beneath her raised skirt, his member aching with an urgent need for her as he watched her rosy lips leak their invitation to him.

“I think I’m in love with you,” she mumbled, as much to herself as to Jules. “That’s the word that humans use, isn’t it? Not being able to do without someone, pining for them when they’re not around. You’ll stay with me after the meeting, right?” she asked as she looked down at him with concern in her reflective eyes. “You won’t send me back home on my own?”

Jules rose from his kneeling position, brushing her tender loins with his fingers on the way up and provoking another aftershock that made her eyelashes flutter seductively.

“What kind of pack leader would I be if I abandoned you?”

He reached up and placed a hand beneath her chin, guiding her down into range of his lips. She kissed him earnestly, passionately. If she cared in the least that her own come was all over his face, then she didn’t show it. Their tongues entwined, coiling around one another, slick and wet as he trapped her in a slow and loving embrace. He felt like his skin was electrified, his senses dialed up to eleven, every stroke of her long tongue making his head spin.

Zuki broke away with a pop, then placed a hand against his chest, pushing him away from her. Jules stood there, confused, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as she turned her back to him. She kneeled before the couch, resting her upper body on the cushions and hiking up her skirt, offering her round rump to him as she peered back over her shoulder with a sordid smirk. She reached down and parted her pert cheeks with one hand, Jules’ eyes inexorably drawn to the sliver of shining pink that stood out against her black fur, the remnants of her orgasm still leaking down her silky thighs.

“As I promised,” she cooed, “do as you like...”

Jules didn’t need a second invitation, struggling with his zipper and freeing his erection, his member jumping with every beat of his heart. He stepped out of his pants and kicked them away, reaching out and delving his fingers into her perfect rear. Her cheeks were at once as soft as melting butter, and as firm and as springy as rubber. Her muscles lay just beneath the surface, giving her ass that wonderful peach shape that he had so admired through the form-fitting skirt. Kneeling on the carpet, she was at the perfect height, her dripping loins level with his cock as he took it in his hand and guided it towards her.

His hunger for her was too strong for him to waste any time taking things slow, and so he gripped her haunches for leverage, thrusting his hips forwards and clapping them against her cheeks. A ripple spread through her rump as he pressed as close to her as he could manage, his member vanishing up to the hilt. He had a front-row view from this position, throbbing inside her as he watched his shaft slide into her wet hole. She was still so sensitive, he could feel her passage trembling around him, the folds and ribs of her loins embracing him as they slid across his skin. Her heat permeated him to the core, the fluids from her prior orgasm helping him on his way, making her muscular tunnel so slippery that there was almost no resistance as he began to move in and out.

She fit him like a latex glove, clinging to him as he pulled back, the shine of her excitement reflecting off his length as it reappeared between her cheeks. He looked up to see that she was resting her head on the cushions, passive, simply enjoying the sensation and letting him take the lead.

Jules couldn’t keep his hands off her ass, kneading it like dough, feeling her hard muscles shift just below the surface as he dug his fingers into them. He gave her a light tap, watching another ripple spread through the fat layer, like tapping a spoon against a mound of jello. He slid his hand up her spine, tracing the dimple his with fingers, slipping beneath her jacket and dress shirt.