Night had already fallen.
We’d been on the road for two days since we’d visited Maya’s parents. The air had cooled, the forest folded into shadow, and our small camp was a scatter of dim lanterns and the soft crackle of a dying fire. We’d pitched three tents for the night with one where Aegis and Ayane shared quiet conversation, another where ria slept so loud I half expected so beast to be drawn in by the noise, and the last where Maya and I were holed up.
Inside that last tent, Maya was giving a private performance.
She had my cock in her mouth, taking with a hungry, practiced rhythm. Her lips slid up and down, warm and slick with her saliva threaded along the length and made every slide feel hotter and more electric. When she kissed the tip, a low, eager noise escaped her throat. Then she dipped lower, taking one of my balls into her mouth and rolling it gently with her tongue before switching to the other. Her hand wrapped around my shaft in ti with her mouth, stroking while her tongue danced along soft places, switching back and forth like a trono set to pleasure.
Her skill had sharpened. The pressure of her mouth, the way she alternated tongue and hand, each movent drove a fresh pulse through until my toes involuntarily curled.
"Master, um...?" she breathed, voice trembling between need and shyness.
"What is it, Maya?" I answered, my voice thick.
"Can I put it inside now?" she asked, rubbing her thighs together as if she could hardly wait. Her hips shifted, betraying how wet and ready she was.
"Sure. Go ahead," I said.
She rose, cheeks flushed, and moved into position. Her fingers guided —calm and deliberate—then she sank down, taking inside. A sharp, delicious pressure wrapped around with her warm walls parting, then closing, trembling as they tried to take whole. That sensation—tight and alive—had a way of centering everything.
"Ahhh, Master...~ So good...~" she moaned, her voice breaking under the strain of pleasure.
She began to ride , a slow grind at first, then building into rhythm. I reached up and cupped her breasts—too full for my hands—feeling the weight and softness spill under my palms. She braced her hands by my head while her breasts swung with every thrust, heavy and demanding. I leaned forward and took a nipple between my lips, sucking and tasting her. The tremor that ran through her body when I did told she was close.
"Ahhh, n-no... Master, if you do that, I’ll...!" she gasped, half-moaning, half-sobbing into the night.
She shattered into release soon after, a violent arching of her back as her muscles clenched and pulsed. "Nnghhh... C-Cummingggg...~!" she cried, and the sound of her orgasm filled the small tent like thunder.
That was the push I needed. I lost control, my hips driving, my seed shooting deep into her as I filled her up. The heat of it, the way she tightened around , made everything raw and bright. "Nnn... aah, s-so hott...~ M-Master’s sen...~" she murmured, voice going thin as she collapsed on top of , breasts pressing against my face.
She went limp from the pleasure—exhausted and bliss-drunk—so I tried to gently pry her off. For a few seconds her weight muffled my breathing, those heavy breasts settled against with a softness that was almost suffocating, and I laughed, half-wheezing, half-grateful for the closeness. She must’ve been spent from the trip. She was tired and easy to overco with a single, perfect fuck.
***
When I finally freed myself, I stepped out into the cool night air. The tang of sex clung to my skin, and sweat slicked every inch of . I needed to wash—just a quick rinse to scrub the day and the heat off before sleep.
Nearby the camp, a clear lake rested like a dark mirror. The surface was glass-smooth, reflecting the moon and the trees in silver strokes. It felt almost sacred—so still that a tossed pebble would interrupt the silence with a satisfying plop and ripple the world into motion. I liked the idea of that simple, clean noise.
But I wasn’t the only one with the sa idea.
She was there, by the rock at the water’s edge—completely naked. Nine tails fanned behind her and swayed with a fluid, hypnotic grace, each one catching the moonlight and throwing it back in faint, shimring waves. Ayane sat on the stone, scooping water with a small wooden tub and letting it stream down her body in slow arcs, one careful pour after another.
In the silver light she looked fragile and unreal, like marble ward by moonbeams. Her skin glowed softly with the gentle fall of water tracing the shape of her shoulders, the line of her ribs, the soft swell of her hips. She moved with a foxlike, unhurried elegance with every small motion intentional, as if she were performing a private prayer to the night. The scene felt intimate and delicate. I didn’t want to break it.
So I turned to leave.
But of course, things never go that smoothly.
As cliché as it sounded, I stepped on a twig, the sharp snap echoing through the still air. With her fox ears, there was no way she wouldn’t notice.
She spun, and the reflex was perfect as she put her hands up to cover herself, tails snapping into a protective curve. Her eyes were wide, startled—then softened as she recognized .
"It’s ," I said, stepping into the moonlight so she could see clearly.
Relief washed over her face like a tide. There was even a delicate blush coloring her cheeks. "I-It’s fine, M-Master Leon," she stamred, voice small and breathy. "D-Did you co here to have a bath as well? If so, then it’s fine. I don’t mind sharing the water with you."
There was an awkward, shy politeness to her tone—equal parts formal and fumbling. It fit her, I guess. She was noble yet nervous, reserved yet flushed.
"Is that really fine?" I said, letting a smile tilt my words.
"O-Of course. Please do," she said in a rush, looking away and trying to compose herself while her tails trembled faintly behind her.
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