prtty_grl

'prtty_grl'
(MalO 1.0.0 [Male] x Anon [Male], NSFW)
-----


It's interesting, really, how quickly some things could become 'normal'.

Twelve months ago, 'normal' meant a daily routine of waking up, struggling through a shower while half-asleep, scarfing down either a bowl of cereal or what was left of last night's pizza, then heading off to nine of the most brain-killing hours of personalized customer service hell in a tiny cubicle just slightly bigger than an actual coffin would be. After that, of course, would be a few hours of vegging out on the couch to either catch up on the latest episodes, or keeping the world safe from the digital forces of doom and evil for another evening, before crashing back in bed to do it all again the next day.

Eleven months ago, 'normal' took a flying leap while something big, furry and with a skull for a face decided to play Peek-A-Boo on every reflective surface in sight.

Ten months ago, after figuring out that 'Mal0' wasn't a drug-induced hallucination, or about to eat your face, you decided to try and teach him how to talk - or rather, how to 'talk', using sign language to communicate, like you learned to do with your cousin.

You were a little surprised how much you remembered about signing, and more surprised about how quickly he picked it up.

Eight months ago, 'normal' was doing your best not to attract attention to yourself while signing and occasionally rambling at your own reflection, completely ignoring the fact that your conversational partner was a giant black skull-wolf-thing who no one else could see, and who had a particularly sharp and nasty sense of humor of his own.

Four months ago, 'normal' was thrown back out into traffic when an icon on your phone, innocently labeled 'Mal0 Update v1.1' prompted you to finish installing. Thank god you were at home - the shattered glass was hard enough to clean up in a single, contained area, let alone all the lights needing replacing.

Seeing Mal discover bread for the first time was pretty much worth it, though. That, and the whole curling up on the bed.

Going through housebreaking was...less pleasant.

Two months ago, Mal started learning to cook. About the same time, 'normal' also expanded to include more fire extinguishers around the apartment.

Today, you find yourself waking up to a Saturday morning smell that's also become a new 'normal' - bacon frying in a pan. Mal's become pretty good at cooking things, and not surprisingly, has a real preference for meat.

You rub your hands over your head a bit to get a little closer towards the 'awake' side of the scale, and carefully stumble your way out of your bedroom, using the wall only a little for support.

The delicious, heavenly aroma of sizzling porkfat hits you before you quite make it to the kitchen, putting a nice wide smile on your face as you lean against the doorframe. "Mmmm, morning, Mal."

You reluctantly open your eyes, giving up the singular focus on that wonderful smell to actually look at the one working at making it - and stare, blinking.

Mal doesn't seem to pick up on your confusion at first, letting off that weird, distorted sound you've come to figure out is a laugh as he signs, [GOOD•MORNING•SLEEPY•HEAD]. He then turns back to the stove and the bacon and eggs cooking away on top of it, his tail happily wagging behind him where it sticks out under his apron.

And the hem of the skirt. A pleated white skirt, with a thick blue band at the hem, barely reaching halfway down his thighs, and doing nothing to cover up the-

Are those panties?

Those are definitely panties. Pink and white striped panties, pulled up just under his tail, which you can see perfectly well since his tail is flipping the back of that skirt completely up as it wags back and forth and-

What the fuck?

Mal turns to look at you, startled. You realize then that you said the last thought out loud. Shit.

His boney face is surprisingly expressive, for being a solid skull. You can see that he's worried as he signs, [WHAT'S•WRONG]

You scramble to make your sleep-addled brain form a clear thought, guesturing vaguely at him as you do so. "I, what, this," you babble a bit, then manage, "skirt?"

Mal's eyes light up, then dim a bit, as he drops his head a little, his tail curling around his leg. He starts to sign something, hesitates, then reconsiders. [YES,] he finally settles on. He lifts his head a little, tilting it to one side as he adds, [DO•YOU•LIKE•IT]

"Do I-" You put a hand to your head, shaking it a bit while steadying yourself on the doorframe. This is...this is a bit much to take in, first thing in the morning. Opening your eyes again, you look back over at Mal, who looks back at you, clawed hands tucked close to his chest.

"...Why?" you finally manage, doing your best to act a lot more calm and less thrown for a loop than you actually are.

Mal looks to the side, his glowing eyes not meeting yours as he almost seems to shrink a bit. His hands barely lift from his chest as he answers, [WANTED•TO•FEEL•PRETTY]

You weren't quite expecting that. Then again, you're not sure what you were expecting.

You try to think of a response to that, when you see Mal's hands moving again. [DO•YOU•LIKE•IT], the big fuzzy skull-wolf asks again, looking - well, looking just like you feel; like he's trying very hard not to let in that he's really out of his depth right now, with an extra helping of nervousness thrown on top, as he does his best to pretend he's not anxiously worried about what you might say next.

Honestly, for having no real face, he really has a gift for expressions.

Softly, you push off from the wall, finding yourself cupping his bony jaw in one hand. "Hey," you say softly, lifting his head a bit, bringing his eyes more in line with yours. "Hey, Mal. Yeah, yeah, it's pretty. I like it."

His eyes light up immediately, his tail uncurling and wagging with a soft swish-swish-swish as it pulls the pleated skirt along with it.

"But--Why?" you can't quite catch yourself from asking, hearing the words just kind of tumble out of your mouth. "I thought you were, y'know, a boy and all..."

Mal's eyes seem to lower into a glare, even without the solid bone ridges shifting. He snorts at you as he straightens back up, lightly pushing you back just a little as he signs forcefully, [I•AM•A•BOY]. He snaps his jaws lightly as he adds, [BOYS•CAN•BE•PRETTY•TOO], before crossing his arms over his aproned chest and turning his head up and to the side, huffing out a breath.

"Okay, okay!" you agree, putting your hands up in mock surrender. "Boys can be pretty too, and you, you look pretty, I guess..."

You're about to say something else, you're not sure what, when something tickles your nose. "Hey," you say, "do you smell..?"

Mal suddenly lets out an unholy shriek, spinning back to the stovetop and the small clouds of black smoke rising off the pans on top of it. You cover your ears at the brain-rattling sounds coming out of those boney jaws as you quickly back out of the kitchen, leaving him to his mad scrambling.

Okay, so...no bacon this morning. Well, at least that's kind of normal, too.

***

You wait in your room for a few minutes, at least until the screeching dies down. Giving it a little bit longer just to be on the safe side, you carefully ease the door open, looking out.

Mal's in the living room, sitting on the couch, picking silently at the hem of his skirt. He's taken off the apron, letting you see the plain white blouse he's wearing to try and match the skirt.

You have to admit, now that you've gotten a chance to actually adjust to the whole thing, well...for a hairy skull-demon-thing, he doesn't look all that bad in that outfit.

You must have made more noise than you thought - then again, Mal's hearing always has been impressive to you - as you see him suddenly sit up sharply, start to turn in your direction, then look away, his large, pointed ears laying back against his head.

You slide onto the couch next to him, trying not to react too much when he half-flinches away from you. "Hey, Mal," you say, doing your best to be friendly. "You okay, huh?"

He doesn't respond at first, keeping his head turned away; you look down at his hands, and notice with some concern the way he's bundling up the hem of his skirt in his fists.

Taking a bit of a risk, you carefully put your hand on top of one of his; he's shaking a little. "Hey, hey," you say, trying to sound soothing as you can. "It's okay, Mal, it's all right - talk to me, man, I'm here."

He still doesn't look at you, but he slowly raises his hands, trusting you to be able to make out what he's saying. [BURNED•BACON] he signs, then adds, [AND•EGGS]

You laugh a little; you can't help it. You lean against him slightly, and feel his chest shift as he makes that weird laugh-sound as well.

"I-it's all right, Mal," you choke out through your laughter once you've gotten yourself under enough control. "Not the first time, right? Remember when I first--"

You can't even finish before he snorts, shaking his head and signing, [MELTED•BOTTOM•OUT•OF•PAN]. His laugh, already weirdly distorted like a bad soundboard, takes on a strange warbling effect as he adds, [HAD•TO•REPLACE•ENTIRE•SET•AFTER]

"Yeah, yeah, very funny," you say, trying and failing to hide your grin at the memory.

You sit there for a little bit longer, feeling and hearing Mal's own laughter subside. At least he's feeling a little better now.

You almost miss it when his hands start moving again. He starts to say something, then changes his mind, or maybe just loses his nerve; you're not really sure.

You're not about to push him, though; you wait, knowing that he'll either say what he wants to say on his own, or he won't.

Finally, he half-turns his skull of a face towards you, not quite looking out the side of one socket at you as his hands move, signing just enough for you to make out what he's trying to say.

[YOU•THINK•I'M•PRETTY]

You blink, then sit up straighter, turning to look at Mal more fully as he does almost the same. "What?" you manage to ask, your mouth helpfully providing words where your brain is lacking at the moment.

Mal still won't meet your eyes, as his hands continue to dance in front of him. [IN•THE•KITCHEN], he helpfully explains, [YOU•SAID•I•WAS•PRETTY]. He hesitates, his hands fluttering just a little like they do when he's nervous about something, before he adds, [DO•YOU•MEAN•IT]

You look up from his hands, up to his face, to the glowing white lights of his eyes. You hesitate, and immediately know it to be the wrong choice, as those soft, gentle lights dim, fade, pull back in their milky-white sockets; the rest of him tries to follow suit, as Mal tucks his chin into his chest, his hands curling up to follow.

You quickly slide across the couch, your hands slipping under Mal's lower jaw and carefully, firmly lifting it up as you lean in. "Hey - Mal, hey, no," you say worriedly, trying to make those tiny points of light meet your eyes as you stumble over your words, 'I mean - yeah, of course I mean it, Mal - you're pretty, you look --"

You lean in a little closer, pressing your forehead against the cool, flat ridge between his eye sockets. "I just," you stammer out, letting your hands slide down to rub his neck a little. "I'm just trying to process this, you know? It's all, it's a pretty big surprise, this whole..."

Out of the edge of your vision, you just notice his hands moving, almost on their own. Shifting a bit to get a slightly better view down his long, pale face, you watch his fingers flitter back and forth, blinking while you try and puzzle out what he's trying to say.

When it hits, it's almost like a truck.

[WANT•TO•BE•PRETTY•FOR•YOU]

You push away from him, holding onto his shoulders as you stare, wide-eyed, at a face that refuses to look directly back at you. "Wh-wha-- for me?" you stammer out. "You want to be pretty -- for ME??"

He hesitates, then nods, still not looking up. "I, wh...why?" you ask, stunned yet again.

He seems to struggle a bit with the question, standing up and pacing a little. His hands pick at and bunch up the hem of his skirt again as he nervously tries to find the words he's looking for. [YOU•LIKE•PRETTY•THINGS,] he finally answers.

[PRETTY•SKIRTS,] he adds, his hands fluttering a little.
[PRETTY•BLOUSES,] he signs.
[PRETTY•DRESSES]
[PRETTY•BOWS]
[PRETTY•HAIR]
[PRETTY•PRETTY•PRETTY•PRETTY•PRETTY]

You stand up quickly, catching his shaking, trembling hands in yours. "Mal - Mal! Hey, hey, it's all - I'm here, Mal. I'm right here," you say, trying to catch his eyes as he shakes his head back and forth, letting out a faint, high-pitched, distorted whine.

You hold his hands against your chest with one of your own, carefully putting the other against the side of his boney jaw to try and calm him down a little, or at least stop the shaking. "Mal, hey - it's okay, man. You're okay," you say. "You're okay, Mal. You're pretty. You're beautiful."

He stops at that, caught as off-guard by hearing your sudden words as you are saying them. Truth be told, you're not one hundred percent sure where that came from just now, but hell with it, it seems to be what he needs to hear, right?

The milky-white skull slowly turns, lifts, shifts to look at you. As always, you're struck by just how expressive an expressionless, unmoving face can be, even if - like now - it's hard to tell just what emotion that's supposed to be.

A heartbeat later, you feel Mal's powerful, heavy hands wrapped around the back of your head, and for a heart-stopping moment, you can see only wide, white jaws coming at your face--

--before you feel something cold, thick and wet slap and slather up from your chin to your forehead, then do it again.

The part of your mind not completely frozen in primal, about-to-be-devoured prey-instinct panic, makes an assumption, followed by a choice of action.

You raise your hands to Mal's face, shoving it back and away from your own as you cry out, "Aww, yech! What the fuck, Mal?!"

You wipe a heavy amount of saliva off your face, then frown at the rather embarrassed-looking demon-wolf.

[WAS•TRYING•TO•GIVE•YOU•A•KISS,] he signs sheepishly.

"A ki- Okay, first off," you say, deciding to take things one step at a time, "That wasn't a kiss, that was a tongue-bath. Second, fuckin' warn me next time you want to try something like that, I thought you were gonna try and EAT me or something. And third," you start, then pause as the rest of the implications hit. "...You wanted to kiss me?"

Still hunched over nervously, Mal nods a little, seeming to have trouble keeping eye contact with you.

You aren't exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer sometimes, even you'll admit. Still, even you can put things together when all the pieces are laid out in front of you. "...Mal," you say softly, careful not to startle him, "...Are you, uh...are you, attracted to me?"

It's not possible for a skull to blush; all the same, you wouldn't be surprised if he pulled it off right then.

"But, you never - I mean, you never said anything about being..." Your words drift off, your whole train of thought failing to make it to the station. "Why the outfit, anyway?" you ask, then as his head starts to tilt up in confusion, you add, "I mean - don't get me wrong, Mal, you look, uh, really pretty..." You pause a moment, smiling when you notice his tail start to wag.

[I•LIVED•IN•YOUR•PHONE•FOR•MONTHS,] he says. He then tilts his head, almost seeming to smirk as he adds, [I•KNOW•YOUR•SEARCH•HISTORY]

A solid bone face might not be capable of blushing, but you're fairly certain that doesn't hold true for yours."H-hey, that--!" you start, quickly finding yourself with no words to say as Mal lets out wide-jawed burst of distorted static, then a series of oddly musical synthesized tones.

Great, now you're getting mocked by a wolf in a skirt with a skull for a face, who sounds like a modem on crack.

Eventually, he manages to calm back down, and if nothing else, the teasing seems to have done him some good, judging by the hesitant sort of half-wag his tail is doing.

You wait for him to say something, or do something, but after a few awkward moments, it's clear he's waiting for the same thing from you.

"So," you finally manage, looking at those shining points of light he uses for eyes. "You dressed up, all for me?"

Mal tucks his head a little again, then raises it back up, his tail wagging boldly behind him as he forces a nod.

You nod back, smiling. "It, um. It looks good on you." You pause, taking a slow breath, wondering if you should be thinking this over more seriously.

Fuck it, you decide, doing your best to adopt a sexy swagger as you walk over to Mal, putting your hands on his hips and staring up into his eyes. "I think it'll look even better on my floor," you say, pulling him close.

You feel his chest tighten as he gasps, tensing in barely controlled excitement. One hand raises just to the side, in the corner of your vision, as he spells out a response.

[C•H•E•E•S•E]

You find yourself laughing along with him, as he leans into your shoulder, his hands wrapping around you in a firm, tight embrace.

This isn't the first time you've hugged Mal close; even without his little moments, he's always been a bit on the physical side - after he got over the initial surprise and shock of actually having a body, at least.

Sure, it was weird at first, but then again, everything about this has been weird at one time or another. Having him greet you in the mornings with a hug, or again when you come home from work, or slouch against you when the two of you are watching movies - all of that just became normal.

This time, however, there's a definite newness, all over again, to holding him; a different feeling, with the new emotions and connections behind this embrace. This isn't just a hug between friends, or a friendly, enthusiastic greeting; this is something more, and you can feel that.

You can also feel the way his heart pounds in his chest - or is that yours? It's hard to tell, honestly, and for all your smooth (and cheesy) lines, you're honestly pretty nervous about this now that you think about it, holy shit, what are you doing, what are you thinking, this is crazy--

You catch a whiff of something, thankfully derailing your thoughts. It's his fur, the fur of his neck, right next to your face as he leans against you, leans into your arms, holds you close. He's shaking, just a little, or maybe trembling, you can't quite tell. His tail's going back and forth about a mile a minute, shooshing his skirt all over the place behind him as it moves.

Lavender. He smells like lavender. And oatmeal - it's the shampoo you bought for him, a few months ago, from the pet section of the store; it was supposed to help with tangles and coat maintenance, and thank god he doesn't seem to actually shed, that would be an absolute nightmare --

You're getting sidetracked. You're also swaying a bit, but Mal doesn't seem to mind. If anything, now that he's made his feelings known, he seems to be waiting for you to take the lead, as it were.

Well in that case, you think to yourself, smirking gently as your hand slides just a little bit lower, then a bit more.

He lets out a sound you swear you heard from an Atari game once, his back straightening in surprise as your hand latches onto his butt. His head pulls off your shoulder and turns to look at you, the smooth bone of his face somehow managing to pull off the impression of an embarrassed blush.

His hands grip at the back of your shirt, tugging at it lightly, before he releases his grip. Leaning back as much as he can while still keeping himself in your arms, he brings his hands around to press against your chest, his fingers curling a little and dragging the tips of his claws carefully down the fabric of your shirt.

You slide your other hand under his skirt, making a happy murmur of your own. He leans his butt into your grip, lifting his hips a little in time with your slow, firm squeezes. His tail slows for a beat or two, then somehow starts wagging even faster as he starts to pant, letting out a soft, whispered chord-like noise that almost sounds like a distorted harmonica with each exhale.

You feel him start to tug at your shirt, trying somewhat unsuccessfully to pull it up your chest; he pauses after a few false starts, looking up at you with his lower jaw hanging half-open and the white lights of his eyes strangely blurred around the edges.

Holding himself against your chest with one hand, he raises the other, his fingers shakey as he spells out his desires. [TAKE•OFF], he asks, adding a quick [PLEASE] for emphasis as he gives your shirt a tug; [WANT•TO•TOUCH•YOU]

You feel a smile spread over your face, and on a whim lean in to kiss the end of his upper jaw, just below the spade-shaped hole where his nose would be. His eyes refocus sharply, his jaw snapping shut and his ears perking straight up in surprise at the kiss; he recovers surprisingly quick, though, shaking his head quickly in short shifts back and forth, his hands cupping over the top of his nose as his face ducks down towards his chest again.

You try not to laugh at him, covering yourself rather badly with a heavy cough or three as you shake your own head. You make up for it with another firm squeeze of his surprisingly firm butt - seriously, you had no idea he was so toned under that coat - before pulling your hands off to start taking off your shirt.

You hear him inhale sharply while your shirt is over your head, and feel his clawed hands gently press against your bare chest. The pads of his fingers are soft and smooth, as are his palms, as he splays them and runs them through the admittedly average amount of chest hair you have.

You finish pulling your shirt off your head, to see Mal staring in what almost looks like wide-eyed fascination at your chest, the fingers of both hands making small furrows and tracks through your coarse curls. He looks up at you, cupping a hand to his mouth and shrugging his shoulders in what doesn't need a face for you to see as a silent giggle.

Still playing with your chest hair, he rather excitedly spells out for you to see, [YOU•HAVE•FUR•TOO]

You realize, with some amusement, that this might just be the first time Mal has actually seen you shirtless. Or at least, been able to take this close of a look at you when you were.

"It's not fur, it's h-ha-haaa..."

Whatever you were saying suddenly stops being all that important, as Mal chooses that moment to open his jaw and let his long, black, thick, pointed tongue slide up your chest, following the line of your hair from just below your sternum, all the way up to the pit of your throat.

You barely hold back a groan at the feeling of that warm, slick tongue lapping over your skin, sending shivers up from your ankles all the way to the crown of your head.

Mal makes that video-game squeak again, and you realize your hands are clenched around his firm asscheeks again; not that either you nor he seem to mind, given the way his tail wags back and forth. You do relax your grip a bit, giving him more of a playful, kneading squeeze, which he definitely seems to enjoy.

Something about the way he's looking up at you - head turned just so, ears pointed up at you, his eyes focused in on yours, the end of his ink-colored tongue poking out between his canines, his tail wagging gently under the frilly fringe of his skirt - makes you wish you had a camera; at the same time, you get the sense he's hesitating, or waiting for your permission. Wordlessly, you nod at him, smiling as that tail of his starts wagging faster again.

He leans his hard, warm skull against your collarbone for just a moment, as his tongue snakes out to lick over your chest hair again. You're caught off-guard by just how long that thing is - with one pass, he manages to bring his tongue all the way from the center of your ribcage, all the way up to your neck, all without lifting or moving his head.

He shifts in your embrace, somewhat reluctantly sliding his cute butt out of your hands as he moves to somewhat crouch in front of you, bringing his skull around to about level with your stomach. The lights of his eyes grow fuzzy again as he gives you a long, slow lick, starting at your navel and working his way up. His tongue slides back and forth like a serpent, winding through your patchy chest hair and over the bare skin of your stomach with equal delight.

You gasp and shiver as he brushes his tongue over one of your nipples, catching both of you by surprise; glancing down at him quickly, you see him pause, then somehow almost look playful. Oh, dear.

He seems to come to a decision, then continues to run his tongue up to your throat; you have a feeling, though, that he will remember that reaction from you, later.

As his tongue reaches the pit of your neck, just under your jaw, you feel the barest pinch of his teeth on your skin as he gently nips, then tugs, at your throat.

You can tell he's being very careful not to scratch or draw blood; all the same, the feeling is enough to send a shiver down your back, all the way to your knees - and down your throat, and your chest, all the way to a rather important point just below your belt.

You can't quite catch yourself from letting off a sort of muffled, shuddering groan as you let out a heavy breath you weren't aware you were holding. Mal seems to really enjoy the sound of it, at least, judging by the happy squeak he gives in return.

He makes another squeak, followed by a longer, lower sound, as he pulls back to notice the tent forming in the front of your pants.

Seeing him there - this fluffy, skull-faced wolf-creature who still surprises you with his hidden depths, kneeling in front of you in a skirt and blouse, nervously licking his bone-white jaws while staring at your growing erection through your pants...

You have to admit, in this moment, Mal is really hot.

You cup your hands around Mal's head, feeling him flinch slightly before settling into your touch. You rub his ears between your fingers and thumbs, earning a low, happy growl from him, then nod as he looks up at you.

Slowly, hesitantly at first, Mal brings his slightly shaking hands up to your waistband, fumbling with the button a bit before managing to get them undone. The zipper follows next, a little tricky for him at first, but he manages it.

As he folds down the flaps on the front of your jeans, your boxers prove to be not at all sufficient to hold your cock back; it springs out at full-mast right in Mal's face, who gives a startled *beep!* in return, flinching back just a little in surprise.

He quickly seems to become more than fine with the situation, judging by the happy-sounding, almost musical noises he starts making - not quite chimes, but something beyond simple computer tones; you swear, if you two worked at it enough, he could probably make bank as a dubstep mix-artist or something...

Random thoughts aside, you focus your attention where it belongs - on him, of course - as the adorable wolf in front of you shyly brings one of his hands around, hesitantly wrapping it around your shaft, and gives it a gentle squeeze.

Your heavy gasp echoes his, or maybe the other way around, as you feel your cock jump a little in his surprisingly smooth fingers. That seems to be all the encouragement he needs, as he starts stroking you off with long, slow beats, watching with wide-eyed fascination as the skin of your dick pulls and bunches up around his hand.

"Oh god, Mal," you moan softly, still rubbing his ears, and do your best to keep from losing your balance as he works you over.

He pauses for a blessedly brief moment to feed your dick back through the opening in your boxers, so he can pull them and your pants down to about your knees, then wraps his hand right back around your rod. This time, however, he adds his other hand into the mix, cupping your balls and carefully rolling them between his fingers in time with his slow, lengthy tugs.

Oh god, those hands of his - he's impressed you and surprised you plenty of times with how fast and nimble his fingers are, how quickly he can pick up new tricks like signing or writing or twirling things, but this sort of thing --

You have no idea if he's just making this up as he goes along, or if he looked up how to do this sort of thing (and that idea alone is both very weird, and strangely hot), holy fuck, Mal's hands are like some sort of wonderful, deliciously lewd magic trick on your dick.

You close your eyes, groaning softly and shivering at the feeling of his hands teasing and stroking you off - then gasp, your eyes flying open as you look down to see his tongue lap over the head of your cock a second time.

His eyes seem to smile up at you as he sees he has your full attention - not that he had much reason to doubt, but still - before he gives you another slow lick, running the tip of your dick down the whole length of his long, long black tongue, lapping up the steady bead of pre leaking out from it along his way.

The slow, measured swallow, followed by the playful, self-satisfied click-clack of his body jaws, is almost enough to make you pinch his ears, the cheeky boy.

You're about to make some sort of comment to him - you're not sure what, but you're thinking of something - when he cuts you off by wrapping his tongue around your cock, and giving it a tug.

O-oh, fuck, you thought his hands were amazing; the feeling of that hot, slick tongue wrapped around your dick like a peppermint stick, pumping and dragging along from the base to your head while his hands grope and squeeze along with -

You barely manage to grunt out, "M-Mal, I'm--" before you feel his hand let go of your balls, wrapping around behind your back and almost pushing you from behind to hold you close to him, as between his hand and his tongue, he starts stroking you off like a man possessed.

You're too close to the edge to spare any thought to the matter - grunting hard, you wrap your hands around Mal's ears, just barely holding back enough to hopefully not hurt him as you come, hard, into his open jaws.

You feel Mal flinch and almost try to draw back as your jizz hits his tongue, surprising him with it's taste; in his favor, he manages to restrain himself enough for your second shot to make it in his mouth as well, before his head pulls back and his tongue slides off your dick.

He lets out a surprised *beep!* when a string of cum spatters over the bridge of his nose, making him go rather adorably cross-eyed while he tries to look at it for a moment.

He lifts his head to look up at you for the rest, raising himself up a bit and pressing his firm, flat chest into your groin, the fingers of his hand gently squeezing and rubbing along your dick while you come, lovingly milking out every drop as he stares up at you with the fuzzy, unfocused blue-white lights of his eyes.

Your dick starts to grow soft in his hand, and you and Mal both look down to watch the last load of your jizz dribble out over the back of his thumb. He looks down at the sticky pool of not-really-white on his hand, then pulls back a bit to turn and look up at you.

The lights of his eyes are sharp again, focused, and pointed directly into your own eyes, making sure he has your complete attention as he draws his hand up.

His mouth opens, his long black tongue sliding out again and, his eyes never once leaving yours, he licks up the entire glob of cum, pulling it into his mouth, and deliberately takes a long, slow swallow.

He then leans back, sitting on his ankles as he signs up at you.

[TASTES•WEIRD]

You blink, looking down at him, then burst out laughing when you see him starting to shake from holding back his own.

"Mal, you goofy son of a - 'tastes weird', really? That's what you have to say?"

He starts making that weird synthesizer-sound, shaking with every giggle, as he signs up, [WELL•IT•DOES]

You let out an overly dramatic sigh, reaching down to rub his ears again. "This, this is the sort of romantic language I have to look forward to from my pretty little boy toy - 'your cum tastes weird', 'you're cheezy'..."

He giggles a bit more, his eyes flickering down to his chest before turning back to you. [YOU•MADE•MY•PRETTY•BLOUSE•ALL•STICKY,] he playfully adds, running a finger lightly through the collected pool for emphasis.

"And now the bitching starts, too," you fire back, grinning so he knows you're playing as well. "Honestly, are you sure you're a boy under there? Might as well start calling you 'my pretty girl', you keep that up."

You keep chuckling, and rubbing his ears, and don't immediately notice that he stopped laughing. When you do, you look down at him. At his face, with it's strange, almost stunned expression. "Uh...Mal?" you say, questioningly.

His eyes flit around, then turn to look up at you. He lifts his hands, hesitates, then signs. [SAY•IT•AGAIN]

You look at him in confusion, not quite sure what he's saying, or what he's asking for. "Mal? What do you--"

He taps your hand to stop your talking, then signs, [WHAT•YOU•CALLED•ME•JUST•NOW.] His eyes are focused, if hard to read, as he looks up at you. [SAY•IT•AGAIN]

With how seriously he's asking for this, you take a moment to try and remember what you said, before looking down into his face again. "...'Pretty girl'?" you say questioningly, and are a little surprised at how hard his tail starts to wag.

You brush the back of your hand along the side of his face, making him lean into it in return; you then turn your hand around, rolling your fingers under his chin for a gentle scratch while your other hand pets and strokes his ear. "...Pretty girl," you say again, a little more confidently, and you watch his eyes light up as he curls his hands against his chest.

You press your fingertips against the underside of his jaw, raising his chin to point his face up at you as you half-bend, half-crouch down to bring your own down to meet his. You can feel his pulse racing under your fingers, the faint nervous, excited trembling he's trying to hide, the way his tail wagging a mile a minute makes his whole body shift to and fro.

"You're my pretty, pretty girl," you purr, and struggle to keep a straight face as he wraps his hands around his bony mouth, making a series of stuttering tonal chirps and chords that you're pretty certain are his version of barely suppressed giggles.

Well, can't have that, now can we.

Trying, and utterly failing, to hold back a teasing smile, you lean a bit more down to press your lips against the tip of his skull again. He reacts exactly as you expected, raising his hands higher to cover his eyes and shaking his head as he squeaks and chirps even more.

Distracted as he is, Mal is completely unable to prepare for your sudden and inevitable betrayal, and barely manages a surprised *beep!* before tumbling onto his back as you playfully shove him over, your hands pinning him - gently - to the floor by his shoulders.

He squirms for a second or two, then lays back quietly - or at least, mostly quietly, as his short, quick breaths keep being inturrupted by chiming, musical hiccups as he tries, and fails, to hold back his nervous giggles.

"Pretty, pretty girl," you say again, smiling as he tries to duck his head down to his chest, his hands not quite able to make their way past your arms to cover his face.

"And a good girl too," you add, taking your hands off his shoulders and sliding them down his sides, petting over the soft, smooth fabric of his blouse while he squirms just a little at your touch.

"Such a good girl, in fact," you continue, meeting his eyes with a playful smile as you slowly slink down a bit along his body; your hands slide under his blouse, lifting it up to expose the soft black fur of his twitching, tense belly, as he cups his hands over the end of his mouth again.

You bring your hands down to rest on the hips of his pleated skirt, your voice getting softer and lower as you move your head down towards his body.

"...you deserve a treat," you finish, as you press your face against his fluffy tummy. You make an effort to try and kiss him a little, but give that up when you start getting hair in your mouth, and opt instead to just nuzzle against his surprisingly soft belly as Mal shudders and gasps out a digitized chord of a moan.

Pulling back again (just a little reluctantly - he really is an amazingly comfortable fluffball), you slide your hands down his skirt, humming appreciatively at it - and at the fairly notable lump you can feel through it, hidden underneath.

You let your hand play over the lovely lump for a little bit, giving Mal a few gentle, teasing squeezes through the fabric of his skirt, and enjoying the way he shivers and wriggles back at you, as his breath starts coming out in hard, heavy pants.

Deciding you've probably teased him enough at this point, you smile up at his shy skull-face peering down at you, blowing him a kiss - and chuckling as he chirps and covers his eyes in response - before you take the bottom hem of the skirt in your fingers, slowly pulling it up.

Oh god, those panties are even cuter up close. There are little bows sewn along the waistband, and a tiny white kitten face right in the middle, and god dammit how does a furry skull-faced wolf-thing that's almost as tall as you are manage to be both incredibly sexy and adorably cute like this at the same time, it's totally not fair.

What's under those adorable panties - or more accurately, what's just starting to peek over the top of them - is also a rather enjoyable thing to see, for admittedly much different reasons. You've not had all that much reason or opportunity to take a close look between Mal's legs before now, understandably, but he's not exactly been the kind of guy to worry much - before now, at least - about clothes, what with having a full fur coat on and all.

The first thing that stands out to you is the color; like his tongue, the tip of his dick is a dark, almost ink-black, standing out boldly against the slate-gray of his fur. He's a good size, too - thick enough to wrap your hand around, at least, and strangely smooth as far as you can see; while the end of his lovely length comes to more of a tapered point than yours, he doesn't seem to have a head on it.

Of course, this requires a closer, more detailed inspection, and at the moment, there's something in the way of that. Looking up at his face, you chuckle a bit at the sight of him still covering his eyes. "Silly girl," you tease, slipping your hands under his hips, giving his lovely firm ass a squeeze and listening to him squeak again. You knead and grope at him for a little while, chuckling softly as he shifts and squirms against your hands, as if unsure whether to move away or push harder against them.

Deciding you've worked him up enough, you hook your fingers under the waistband of his panties, letting your nails drag tiny furrows through the soft fur of his ass cheeks as you slowly, slowly pull them down. Mal inhales sharply as he realizes what you're doing, then catches and holds his breath, his whole body trembling in what you're willing to assume is a mixture of nervous excitement.

Inch by inch, you draw the thin, silky fabric down and off his hips, under the curve of his ass, and finally down to rest, halfway down his shivering thighs.

He's fully on display for you now, his long, dark, slightly curving shaft bobbing a little in time with his beating heart. You let your eyes trace down the length of him, admiring the sight, all the way down to the ring of fur around the base of his dick, where you suppose - somehow - he manages to hide this delicious monster normally.

You run your fingers through the thick fur of his thighs as you slide your hands up his legs, quietly enjoying the way he squeaks and shivers at your touch all over again. This time, however, his voice changes to a much deeper, almost electrical sounding whine - a sound you swear you heard from some Star Wars film - when you bring your hands together between his legs, wrapping your fingers around his balls and giving him a slow, firm squeeze.

He doesn't exactly have eyes to close, but the way the blue-white lights flutter and wink out in his sockets suggests something along those lines, as his chest starts to rise and fall quickly with his heavy, panting breaths. You give his nice, thick sack another lovely squeeze, rolling his balls between your fingers and watching him slowly arch his back and drop his hands to his sides, gripping the carpet for dear life.

His back arches even more, actually bringing his hips off the floor a few inches and making his breath catch in his throat for a moment, when you slip one of your hands up a little higher and squeeze around the base of his dick. He feels as smooth as he looks, oddly free of any veins or marks as far as you can tell, and slick to the touch all the way to the pointed tip. He whines like a synthesizer as you stroke your fingers up and down his twitching shaft, familiarizing yourself with the feel of him.

Scientific curiosity aside, you can feel your heart pounding in your chest, almost in time with the tense throbbing you feel through your hand. You can't quite help yourself from staring, both seeing and feeling the faint tremble in his thighs while you continue to tease his cock; you raise your eyes higher, looking into the lights of his own, and watch them brighten and sharpen as you lick your lips.

You move without warning, dropping your head into his lap and wrapping your mouth around his cock with a hungry moan. The taste surprises you, or more exactly the lack of taste - even as you bob your head up and down on his shaft, the closest thing to a flavor you can detect is a faint tingling, which for some reason makes you think of wintergreen mints crossed with licking a nine-volt.

Mal, at least, has a much stronger reaction to your actions than he does a taste, bucking his hips and catching the carpet in a death-grip as he loudly gasps and groans. His long black tongue lolls out the side of his slack jaws, and while you can't see all that well from your current angle, you suspect the small glowing lights in his sockets are making a decent attempt at rolling back into his head.

You do your best to keep him right on the edge, rolling and tugging on his balls while you struggle to see how much of his dick you can fit in your mouth each time. Sooner than you expected, you hear him gasp out a bark, his hands flying up to weave through your hair as he struggles not to simply force your head down and bury his shaft in your throat. His cock throbs in your mouth, and suddenly the strangely minty, electrical taste fills your mouth ten times as strong, followed immediately by the sensation of your tongue going numb, followed by your jaw, your cheeks and your lips.

Mal hardly seems to notice your slightly panicked surprise, his hips bucking and his dick pulsing in your hand as he floods your numb mouth with his seed. As you pull back and off of his shaft, coughing lightly from the load dribbling out your mouth, you startle a little at the tingling snap as one last spurt of jizz shoots from his tip and lands on your cheek.

Your breathing seems thankfully unimpaired as you draw in a few short, quick breaths, awkwardly trying to figure out what to do about the lack of feeling in half of your face. Mal still seems oblivious as he collapses bonelessly against the floor, his own breaths coming fast and heavy.

Thankfully, you quickly start to get feeling back in your lips, right about the time Mal manages to lift his head, again managing to somehow give off the impression of a blissed-out, goofy grin on his faceless skull as he attempts to focus his eyes on yours. One hand starts to raise, drops back down, and lifts back up, only a little shaky as he finger-spells, [YUM].

You find it hard to argue with that, even as you feel your tongue just barely start to tingle from feeling coming back to it.

You rock back to sit on your heels, resting your hands on Mal's knees while you wait to see how much of your face comes back after that weird experience. Not that you particularly mind that much, or at least, you consider it worth it to be able to look down at the adorable little guy, flopped all bonelessly on your carpet, his legs shaking a little in your hands while he just lays there and takes in slow, deep breaths. His cute blouse is an unfortunate mess of wrinkles at this point, and his skirt is definitely a lost cause, the entire front spattered in a surprisingly big load of his seed.

His smooth black shaft twitches while you look at it, still more than a little hard after all the attention you gave it.

You lick your lips, mildly surprised to note that you can actually feel yourself doing so, and again taste the odd electric-mint flavor covering your face while you just so a little while admiring your lovely friend and, you guess, your new lover. You roll that thought around in your head for a while, as Mal's breathing slows to a more calm and reasonable level.

He lets out a surprisingly musical squeak as you scoop your arms under him, lifting him by his legs and shoulders and curling him into your chest as you carefully stand up. He's clearly quite surprised, but not about to fight against you as you princess-carry him, his tail tapping your leg as it wags furiously underneath him. The glowing lights in his sockets widen when he sees your destination, his breath hitching as you carefully nudge your bedroom door open, still holding him close.

You're honestly tempted to just fling him onto the bed, just to watch him bounce on it, but decide instead to savor the moment a bit longer, lowering him onto your rumpled sheets with a gentle kiss to the end of his bony nose. His hands curl up again to just under his chin, and you swear if he had a face he'd be red enough to glow.

His panties are still around his knees, so you go ahead and slide them the rest of the way off, making sure to get your hands all over his beautifully toned legs and tight little tush. He's making the oddest, cutest little hiccupping squeaks, his glowing eyespots unable to decide where to focus as they shift to your face, then away, then to your chest, then away again, then longer on your steadily hardening shaft for a while before quickly darting off. You stifle a chuckle, honestly a little amused that he's still so nervous and shy about this after the two of you already went down on each other.

Still, this *is* an even bigger step for the both of you, even if you're quite sure you both want this. All the same, you lean forward to kiss Mal's nose again as you reach into your side-table, looking into his eyes. "You okay with this, pretty girl?" you ask, smiling as his hands cup his mouth at the pet name. He nods quickly, his eyes shining, and you smile wider. "All right. Just - we can stop at any time, if you want to, okay? If it's too much or, whatever, just let me know." He nods again, a slower, more sure answer this time, and you kiss his hands gently before leaning back up.

You set the tube of lube you grabbed from the side-table right next to you, resting both your hands on top of Mal's curled, lifted knees. He hesitates only a little, then lets you ease his legs apart, exposing himself again to your gaze. The tip of his tapered shaft just peeks out of the end of his sheath, both it and his fuzzy sack twitching a little every other breath he takes. With his knees drawn up like this, you can get a much better view of his firm, round asscheeks, and the tight little black star of skin between them.

You spend a moment or two just admiring your beautifully exposed lover, then look up into his nervous face. "God damn, Mal," you say, trying you best to sound sexy and shave, "You are absolutely beautiful."

Whether it's your words, or your tone, or just the fact that you're the one saying it, Mal chokes back a gasp, his whole body trembling as his eyes wink out for a few seconds. His breath comes back in heavy, ragged pants as his eyelights ignite again, staring at you with a heavy, hungry intensity. His hips shift, rocking towards you hard, his message needing no words.

Thankfully, you're just as ready for this as he is - well, except for one vital step. Taking the tube of lube in your hand, you raise yourself up enough so he can see you pour the thick gel out onto your other fingers, then smear and rub and stroke it all over your shaft. You're tempted to make a show of it, but you've already worked the poor boy up so much as it is, judging by the way he wriggles and squirms.

He squirms and jumps even more as your fingers press against his tight little hole, smearing the gel nice and thick all over his fleshy pucker. He barks out a musical chord as your fingers slide inside, feeling the way he clenches around your digits while you make certain he's nice and properly lubed up.