Love Shape Shifter Style-Part 2

Tavia winced as she yawned and stretched. Warmth drew her back beneath the blanket and sheets surrounding her. Snuggling back into her pillow, Tavia closed her eyes and inhaled.

Sharp masculine odors tickled her nose. Intermittent whiffs of sex mixed with the heavy male tang racing across her palette each time she swallowed. A muffled groan and snores brought the prior night’s activities racing back. She tried to keep quiet each time Tongson moved and grunted. A small smile curled her lips as he flopped on his back.

Dark black hair graced his head. His shoulder length locks swirled on his pillow creating intricate waves of pattern against the flowered sheets. Who’d thought a powerful shaman---a magical entity---mixed being kept flowered sheets on his bed?

Tongson loved color. Splashes of differing hues adorned the long wall separating the hall from the main bath. His one sacred piece of artwork reminded him of his vision quest as a cub working to find himself amongst a world that sought to cull out freaks. No, neither she nor Tongson had easy childhoods. Yet they found their calling and acceptance even if it was only each other until the tribal school took them in.

Tavia’s gaze roved lower. Though his upper torso and chest were sans body hair, the thatch adorning his groin served as a backdrop for his seven and half inch cock. Even flaccid, its appeal nudged her hormones a few degrees higher. She fisted her hand to keep from reaching out and touching him.

Last night she hadn’t hesitated to touch, fondle, and taste. Tongson’s rough hands felt wonderful on her skin. Each caress stroked her tingling sensations into stronger and heavier pulses thrumming deep into her pussy. He left no part untouched or fondled.

Wetness chaffed one side of her tight nipple as his other dry callused fingertip circled the other side.

Tavia worked her hands beneath the sheet. More images and sensations from last night poured forth. Slowly she inched her hands across her belly and toward her growing wetness. She dragged the tips of her short nails along the top edge of her trimmed pubic nest. With each swipe, she moved lower, still teasing her wanton need without completely touching her ache. One last stroke and her own wetness coated her fingers.

Tongson turned toward her, his brown eyes taking in her every move. “Need some help?

I could use some.” He shoved the covers aside making his hard on slightly bounce.