The fox holds you up to her mouth. You're sideways, held like a hot dog. Her eyes closed again as you touched her tongue, she winced... Not from pain, far from it. You were just... too nice.
A little string of spit connected your face to her tongue, with some drool dripping down onto her dress. Steamy breaths made your skin glisten with moisture, her trembling hands holding you a dozen feet from the ground.
Even here, about to be nothing more than food, your heart can't help but skip a beat or two when you think of her. Your face suddenly feels extremely wet, a heavy muscle runs across your skin. She likes you, she really does.
With the fox's penultimate kiss, she pushes you into her maw, past her pearly white fangs, and into the depths...

(2/3)

Please login to post a comment.