Hideaway Strath Oh, I just want to take him home

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He draws in a few deep breaths, though he is already fully intoxicated by the saccharine scent that Hemlock’s body puts off, stronger as she shudders under his ministrations. Arturo has always prided himself on being a patient, thoughtful lover but it is harder to keep that up in the frenzied demand that a female’s estrus cycle entices. Arturo feels the teasing twitch of her tail as he presses his chest flush with her, intertwining their scents in a delicious way that lets a small rumble linger in his throat. He feels Hemlock shift her weight in preparation to accommodate his — though if there was any time that Arturo was glad for his coywolf genetics it is that he is not overbearingly large or heavy and he does not feel worry about accidentally crushing her beneath his weight. Still, as he hooks a front leg over the supple curve of her hip he will remain mindful and support most of his own weight upon his back legs. He draws up along her, aligning himself and grasping her scruff betwixt his teeth. His legs tighten, pulling her back or him forward — Arturo is hardly focused upon specifics — and with a roll of his hips as he shifts his weight upon his back paws they are joined. Though every muscles within him screams to see it done he gives her a moment to adjust.