Ms. Paint/Andrew Hussie xeno Final

	Andrew rubbed his eyes. After a long day of looking at the fandom on the forums and Tumblr and making an update that would make them all angry as a nest of wasps in a cement mixer, he was both mentally and physically tired. He shifted his shoulders against the padded backing of his computer chair, stopping when a pair of hands squeezed the aching tendons tenderly.
	It was Ms. Paint, her chitinous digits sensuously massaging Andrew's shoulders. Andrew sighed, it was moments like these that made this all worth it. Ms. Paint's hands worked lower as she stood on the tips of her toes, and she began to scratch at his shoulder blades, then below his ribs. When her hands reached the hem of his shirt, they roamed back up, under Hussie's shirt.
	They reached his ribs when Ms. Paint leaned closer to Andrew, wrapping her arms around him as she allowed her hands to gently brush past his nipples, causing his breath to catch in his throat.
	Andrew leaned his head up to the holes that were near where her ears would be. "Can we?" he whispered.
	Ms. Paint nodded, removing her hands from below Andrew's shirt, his pasty white skin marred slightly by the scratches she left. She pulled the chair away from the desk, and clambered on top of Hussie's lap. Once she was settled, Andrew began to rub her plates, first around the joints that connected her head to her thorax, then gently scratching the set of plates that made up her face before diving down to the place where her abdomen met her thorax.
	He focused most of his efforts there, firmly pressing on the membrane where her abdomen ended and her legs began, occasionally flitting up to the places where her shell thinned on her midsection and squeezing firmly.
	Ms. Paint began to fidget and squirm, moving closer to Andrew and resting her head against him as she nibbled lightly at his neck. The membrane began to produce fluid; viscous, sweet smelling and darkening the thin fabric that usually covered it but Hussie had hastily moved to the side to get at the fold. She shuddered as the organs behind the membrane began to gurgle and shift, creating a passageway for genetic material to be forcefully injected into her.
	Andrew's reproductive organs had been quite busy as well. Removing one hand from the current groping equation, he unzipped his pants and unfurled his penis, which, now freed, followed the contour of Ms. Paint's rear end under her dress, resting its head on the membrane that joined her thorax to her abdomen. As Ms. Paint fussed about as she approached her species' equivalent process of climax, Hussie's head began to drool precum that dribbled into the slight pocket between membrane and butt, eventually overflowing and running down her shell.
	His free hand drifted up to her carapace and he rubbed the area slowly as Ms. Paint's shuddering became more noticeable. Her body wracked with ecstasy, Ms. Paint began to weep, a vestigial biological function indicating that she was cumming. The membrane that Andrew had been working on so furiously began to tighten up like a drum, and Ms. Paint arched her back, jaw plates clicking as her orgasm overtook her. Hussie's dick was trapped as the carapace and the post-dorsal plate closed in on each other. Each spasm caused the plates to squeeze Andrew's dick head tightly as she came. Hussie, in the throes of passion, removed his hands from their previous stations to furiously stroke his shaft, bringing him to orgasm. His dick pulsed, squirting out semen that covered Ms. Paint's back, running down the same and ruining her dress and his pants.
	As their orgasms subsided, Ms. Paint nibbled Andrew's earlobe, expressing her love for him as best as she could. "I love you too," Hussie said.