Releasing one breast, he prolonged the torture by working the other one. I was grateful as the pressure building in my aching breasts eased, but a sense of urgency took over.
My hands buried in the fur at his nape and his fat, fluff covered head, holding him to me. Squirming on the thigh wedged between my legs, I was all set to wriggle my way and dry hump the heavily muscled tree trunk of a hunk when he let my breast go with one last noisy suckle.
“Baumbel Hunman,” he rumbled out like a contented cat. But when he went to lower himself over me as if to finish this wild mess we’d started, he hesitated when I tensed up.
Of course I tensed up. One part of me was saying Hell, yes, snowbeastman, show me what weirdness you’re packing, while the other half of me wanted to cringe away from him instinctively.
Easing himself off of me slowly, eyeing me like he was wary I might break, he hefted himself up and sat on his haunches. Pressing a hand to his chest as he slid his legs out from beneath him, he scooted back and flopped to his ass. Churring mixing with a rumbling purr, he propped himself up along the end of his sleeping platform, legs spreading to accommodate the fat purple head of a curved shaft thick in the middle and thickening as it slowly slid free from a slitted pouch of skin that housed his sex.
Crotch pocket, I thought. He has a crotch pocket. The unbidden words slid through my subconscious, whispering at me tauntingly not to laugh at the odd word choice as it struck me.
He grunted as his thick buddy jutting out fully emerged, bobbing there with a little bounce as it literally sprang forward.
Bounce if you’re hung.
A small giggle escaped me, loon that I am, as it jerked at my wandering gaze. Another giggle left me and my hand slapped to my mouth.
As if he enjoyed my reaction and avid admiration of his person, a deep, bone jarring rumble tumbled from his lips.
I was already crawling towards him, shaking with want and more. He was inviting it. Why couldn’t we…? If only just this once? Or twice… thrice. Swallowing hard, throat feeling drier than my lips, I was just between his legs when his purr jerked to a tinnitus inducing, engine idling, cacophony of thunderous vibrations right there at my face. My hand fell to his thigh, slipping through the thick mat of fur to glide upward. A fullness at the underside of his shaft began to show, until his cock was curving upward sharply and the feelers behind his ears were angled towards me, wriggling like they were eager to make contact.
Color showed, bright blue packed bulges around the fleshy pocket that housed his genitalia. Whereas Shnikel’s Elkfen bratwurst was nothing to laugh at, Baumbel boy over here was sporting a thick kielbasa. I was sure it didn’t help that as it swelled a swirling strip of white, like a vein that bulged when it was at the height of readiness, popped up to stand out against the violently light purple overall color of his uniquely shaped snow alien beast man peen.
I didn’t care. I was confident I could take him. I was so hard up to find my own release I was willing to mount that beast to ride us both home.
“Hunman Baumbel,” he rumbled out gutturally.
“Lumi,” I murmured as I climbed up his thick thighs, situating myself over him, until my hands were at his shoulders, body lined, primed and more than ready to slide down that swirl patterned cock of a barber pole. “And you, I’m going to assume by your vehemence, seem to just go by B-b-b-baumb!” My words spluttered off on a stutter as I began to slide down his pole and his leg jerked, kicking mine out and knocking me off balance to send me slamming down atop him. My pussy swallowed him up in one big assed gulp, complete with slurping noises, followed by a long moan. Seated atop him, a testicular like bulge pressing into my backside slapping at my perineum, I felt impaled. I was almost afraid to move.
The slithering bulge pressing into my clit, nestled into his crotch pocket, for lack of a better term, had no qualms about wriggling around in there, pressing and teasing until a fat, glowing blue bulge with a pointed tip burst free to slap wetly about the place. I nearly jumped when the hot appendage tapped my clit. My sex clenched and I shifted, then began to move in earnest.
We both groaned as the action sent his cock jerking and my inner walls clenching around him. Slowly, I began to work my hips, rocking on and gradually picking up the pace as I learned what he liked, what I liked with his unique anatomy, until I was gripping his shoulders, nails digging in, riding him with abandon.
Grunting, grumbling guttural gibberish, grabbing onto my thighs just above my knees to knead the spot, squeezing it rhythmically to the pace I set, he made no move to take over. This was my show and he was allowing me to run it. I held no illusions I was really in charge. Baumbel was allowing me to have a turn in the driver’s seat. And I was loving every minute of it.
That pleasurable hum building in my body grew until I burst. I came with a sucked in breath, trembling with the force of my climax.
With a sharp growl, I felt my Baumbel friend come then, grabbing at my hips to grind himself up into me and hold. His spend was hot, releasing in short bursts. His body jolted along with his cock at every harsh jerk as my channel convulsed.
When the heat of the moment had cooled, I flopped heavily against him. A long sigh left me that his heartfelt rumble matched. “We should do that again some time,” I mumbled, lifting a hand to pet at a thick, rounded shoulder. The male was just humongous, big all over.
A thick hand came up, both of the thumbs on either side of his big ol’ mitt curling into my hair to sift through it. “Loo-me Baumb,” he purred with that churring whir.
“You are kinda the bomb,” I murmured breathlessly, then chuckled. “It’s rather fitting.”
“Loo-me Baumb,” he muttered, then shifted so he could keep us joined and lean in to nuzzle my hair. A small chuckle left me as his whiskers tickled.
Allowing myself this moment, I melted against him. “We should totally do that again,” I blurted, sliding my hand up his shoulder to bury my fingers in the fur at his nape.
A sharp gasp, followed by a startled laugh, escaped me as he cupped my rear in one hand, the back of my head in the other, and tipped me backwards. A squeak left me as my back met cold cave floor, and then a big, furry purring demon was covering me with his body, enveloping me in a mass of muscles, fur, and heat.
With a groan, Baumb tightened his grip on the hunk of butt cheek in his hand and began to move.
Soon I was moaning, the pace he’d decided on awfully close to lovemaking and not fucking. His murmurs were soft and sweet, his movements cautious of our size difference. He was generous and gentle.
I was being wooed by an alien snow beast man and it was working.
“Loo-me Baumb,” he grunted out as he worked me up to something really good and began to fuck me hard and fast right over the edge. His intense gaze never left mine as he pulled back enough to watch me tip over, and he watched through his own orgasm as it took him.
“You’ve killed me,” I muttered weakly, flushed, sated, a floppy armed, noodle-legged, sexed mess. “Death by alien Orc-Yeti guy with fun junk.” My eyes closed and I laid there, a happily numb mess.
“Baumb,” he said suddenly, causing me to crack an eyelid open and peer into a frowning furry face. The monster man was oddly endearing with that befuddled anger smearing his puss.
“Totally the Baumb,” I promised. “The Lumi Baumb,” I added for good measure.