Noctisardor Bypass life is about creating yourself.

Mature Content Warning

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: innuendo, mentions of heat

Anticipation alone could not have prepared her for his first touch, the electricity he sets loose with his muzzle that smooths a path down her cheek into her neck. Eager; roving; like she is some uncharted place for him to traverse. He knows where to touch and her body responds automatically, filling in her inexperience with instinct, meeting his need with twice her own. His nuzzles are torturous, drawing out anticipation with excruciating pleasure.

She turns her lips to him, stroking where she can reach, first his chin, his jaw, then tracing down into his defined chest, all the places she’d been admiring from afar and imagining covertly how they’d feel under her tongue. Against him she arcs herself as a swift pang runs through her, biting the inside of her cheek to slow down, hoping the pain alone might keep her sane.

It doesn’t, her blood sings for him, fervent with her own fierce, demanding need to reach the same heights he was seeking.

“Fig,” her voice is husky with desire, but her mind gives a last ditch effort to come clean before they’d lose themselves entirely. “I’m in heat.”