Moonspear [m] the suspension of disbelief

He didn’t say anything, though the heated look in his eye spoke volumes. He shifted a foreleg and draped it over the slim jut of her shoulder blade. Treepie’s stomach swooped. She pressed back against every point where they touched, welcoming him to tug her into his grasp if he wished.

She wanted him to mount her, she realized, as their bodies naturally drifted toward alignment. But Tiuttuk wasn’t sure she was ready for what came after that. The idea of Kindle pulling her underneath himself and having his way with her sent another blast of heat through her slender body. But would their bodies actually fit together the way they both hoped?

The fear that they would not made her stomach sink and the fire inside her bank abruptly. Gently, she pulled away from Kindle’s grappling forelimbs and stepped away from his touch. The cold that swept in felt brutal. She swiveled swiftly, reaching out to brush her muzzle against his, peppering his mouth with little flicks of her tongue.

I don’t, she began between kisses, amending, I want to. I want you. But… She pushed their noses together, then drew back a little to speak properly. I’m not ready to try that yet. Can we just… cuddle, for now? I was really enjoying it, she insisted, shifting foreward and trying to press up against Kindle’s chest again by sliding her head beneath his.