Tiddly and more than a trivial little turned on herself, Kagerou nodded – going to all-fours and ducking under Sekibanki’s upraised leg to get at the truthfully packed front of the man’s trousers. Her long, manicured nails picked apart their belt in a trice, and the cloth fell to bunch at the man’s feet. The stench of maleness struck Kagerou’s nostrils even through his underwear: so sharp, so virile, her mouth salivated to no end. Swallowing, wolf-ears flicking in excitement, Kagerou hooked her thumbs under the underpants’ band and tugged them down from the stiff, delicious obstruction within. Her back tingled from anticipation. Then bowed taut at the ensuing view.

Humans were scary. Their apparent fragility, interspersed by bouts of unpredictable savagery, would never fail to give the wolf-woman pause. This, though… This part, she couldn’t help but crave. The prick (what Sekibanki called it) or fishing-rod (Wakasagihime’s term) or cock (Kagerou’s preference) overrode her instinctual, canine fears. It spoke instead to the latter half of her species’ name… even if it was still mainly through her nose. There was all the same no mistaking the thrill in the lowest, hairiest regions of Kagerou’s stomach. Nor the dribble coming out of a corner of her mouth. She was startled to find she was positively slavering. The human’s hard, lusciously shaven wood was turning her wild.

Kagerou fought her stiff-backed body to a clumsy squat. The new position squared her face with the object of her swelling lust. Gingerly, she ringed a hand’s worth of long-nailed fingers around the cock’s sloping, prickly shaft. They didn’t cover a half of his exceptional length. He strained in her grip – that alone prying her slim, feminine digits apart. He was a monster. A two-thirds-footlong, yummy-looking monster she wanted nothing more than to gobble up.

Kagerou unrolled her slobber-dripping tongue – then pressed it flat against the cock’s ridged underbelly. Salty, with a musty, manly tang, its taste did nothing to stay her from dragging her rough tongue up to its very tip. There, the wolf-woman pursed her saliva-slick lips and wrapped them flush around the human’s chubby, half-unsheathed glans. With but those and her tongue, she completed the process: peeling the foreskin back from the sensitive head before sliding her mouth farther down the shaft. Veins and bumps in profusion teased Kagerou’s wet lips with every tumid inch to make it in. Once it turned a blockage, she unhanded the cock – then pushed on lower along its mouth-watering length. Until the tip came against the back of her throat, snuggled by her tonsils.

Kagerou smacked a palm on the man’s own firm, sporty ass – braced – and swallowed the bared cockhead.

“Oh, cra—phmmg!” yelped the man, clipped in a way indicating Sekibanki had matured at last the idea of using her natural abilities to achieve the kiss she’d wanted.

In his less romantically-inclined quarters, Kagerou finalised her mouth’s journey down his outstanding hard-on. Choked up, pawing the man’s ass, nose buried in his stuffy groin, the wolf-woman attempted in shuddering vain not to swoon. His smell was inside her head. The whole top third of his cock flexed inside her gullet, while her lips girdled its base and smooched his shaven crotch. Kagerou enjoyed… really, really enjoyed… a few more throbs of the succulent manhood before her airways reminded her unsubtly of such things as a shortage of breath. Sucking the entire way, she embarked on the long return trip up the man’s awesome member.

A protracted moment later, and it sprang free to stand bolt upright inches from her face: cords of thick spittle joining it still to her hungry lips.

Wide-eyed, panting, ears laid, tail thrashing back and forth, Kagerou admired and loved the effects of her slippery mouth-work. There was no shaking out of this one. The bold, strapping delivery man had plunged her head over heels into early heat. Her spare hand digging frantically in her steamy panties was the crowning touch in that theory.

“… Kagerou?”

Wakasagihime’s call jerked her mental leash. The wolf-woman tore her attention from the potential mate to find the mermaid at the flat-topped stone she used most often as a table. Only, in lieu of snack-bowls and alcohol, Wakasagihime had undone her kimono and laid out her plush, sumptuous bust like so rich a feast. Her blubbery, bluish-pink nipples flashed in and out of sight as the princess tweaked and rolled them between her shameless fingers. Her cheeks were anything except their usual, mother-of-pearl white.

“Good fun where due, but—” she pinched her left teat and winced, “—hff, that should go elsewhere, should it not?”

Kagerou’s ears flattened in shame. “Erk. Yes.”

Wakasagihime smiled. “Good girl. Hn.”

It shouldn’t have wagged her tail so hard, but… the princess had the right. Sekibanki’s penance was lagging behind and – fairness where that was due – she was the one who’d invited the human first of all. She had the metaphorical right of way to the not-that-metaphorical meat. And Kagerou had but to crane her neck to see where the junior Grassroot was becoming a fast glutton for punishment anyhow. A patch of red, demurely trimmed pubes adorned Sekibanki’s nude groin; and there below it was a set of the rosiest, most prettily ruffled labia Kagerou had seen outside of once bathing in a mountain stream in the company of some rather overcurious fairies. Sekibanki’s, however, were puffier and slicker than any fairy’s wholesome business. Kagerou abstained by a whisker from cramming her face under the slim, dangling leg to sample her friend’s gorgeous muff. The cute, pink pucker of the cranky rokurokubi’s butthole would already haunt their future conversations.

No. Kagerou was a good girl. One with a junior to set straight. Therefore, she thumbed open Sekibanki’s condemned slit with one hand; therefore, she grasped the human, coated still in her saliva, by the base of his amazing cock with the other. She’d no sooner brought it up and wiggled the stripped cockhead past her friend’s lovely petals than the man’s inborn, savage instincts bucked him. Sounds of kissing above turned rough as the delivery man jacked his hips, plunging his man-meat to the base into Sekibanki’s hot, honeyed womanhood. Sooner than their groins could meet, he reversed the stroke: extracting a half his barbarous length from the squirming redhead’s snatch before harshly thrusting back in. He did it once, twice, thrice, four times more: each harder and wetter and louder than the last. Then, he stuffed his rigid cock in as deep as Sekibanki’s thighs permitted him in the position. And stilled. His nails dug viciously into their cream skin.

Overhead, Kagerou heard the smack of mouths and tongues parting ways.

“… You’re,” came Sekibanki’s husky, winded voice, “such an irredeemable, fucking beast.”

The man’s replying boff gave away he’d expected no gentler evaluation. Or none different whatsoever. He gave the grumbling rokurokubi a series of slow, amorous thrusts which left those girly thighs trembling in weakness.

Clambering to her own, not much steadier feet, Kagerou discovered the two tongue-deep in a kiss once again. Sekibanki’s redhaired noggin, disjoined from her neck, floated before the human’s inches out from her collar; meanwhile the body, arms bound at the small of the proud rokurokubi’s back, leaned away from the man’s – either in disgust or, Kagerou’s female instincts put forward, for an even better angle of insertion. That question resolved itself on the very next jog of the man’s waist, when Sekibanki’s airborne foot seized with its toes pointing straight out. The stifled moan she loosed into his mouth was further damning evidence. A beast he may be, but he must have been hitting the sweetest spots beneath her baby-room with those full, sensual upthrusts of his hips. And Sekibanki, wilful though she was, couldn’t very well ignore it when she was having such good sex.

Stepping away from the mating two, Kagerou swallowed down her bubbling envy. The cock-flavoured saliva smoothed its journey to the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t say which she rued more: not getting to mix tongues with Sekibanki or that beastly penis not knocking on her own womb. Of one thing the wolf-woman convinced herself for certain. She had to let the out-of-season heat cool off. Kagerou looked to and mimed a whipping motion at the mermaid princess, still at her flat stone. There was a jog of the laden shoulders and much tweaking of the now brazenly puffed-up nipples. Wakasagihime’s breasts were having a lot of fun with her long fingers. A nice, sturdy fishing-rod crammed in between them was everything short of embodying one of those bawdy stories with which the princess regaled on occasion her drunken clubmates. The “fisherman tales,” what she called them.

Kagerou dove among the reeds before she may regret, not for the first time, that she was not a wolf-man after all. And then, having pawed her way back with a willow birch in hand, she would tell the rokurokubi’s tall, doughty partner how things would have to be changed around. An awkward sign, she thought, of a humble wolf-woman with a short patience. He didn’t mind taking turns, though. Said, in fact, it would check his pace if nothing else. Sekibanki’s warm, snug womanhood, it had to be guessed, not overly assisting in moderation otherwise.

And this was where the wolf-woman now stood: alternating cracks of her improvised whip with fondling her friend’s reddening ass as the human menaced her womb with an unwanted pregnancy. Although, if the youkai in Sekibanki flinched from bearing a human’s child, then her body was shamelessly giving it the fig. When his ruttish fervour mistimed a stroke and popped his cock out to ride up between Sekibanki’s glowing buttocks, it was lustred tip to haft with her eager, unwitting consent. Impassioned momentum saw him hot-dog the redhead’s erotic bum a number of times before divining he was missing the intended mark.

He disentangled his tongue from hers long enough to swallow their combined spit – and spoke.

“… Miss Wolf?”

Tingly to the roots of her hair, Kagerou obeyed, stooping once more to her knees before the man’s sex-ravaged cock. Juices and foamy precum oozed down its length; its glans – almost purple from rubbing up against Sekibanki’s creases and folds on the way to her baby-room. Kagerou’s head swam from the sinful, sordid smell of it; she’d not noticed, in her ruttish daze, when her lips were once again making out with the human’s stupendous manhood. Kagerou smooched the smooth, pulsing cockhead like she would a lover: a sticky, indirect kiss, she now realised, with her second-best friend’s G-spot and womb.

The thought kicked up the embers of arousal deep inside the wolf-woman’s loins. If she’d but had a cock herself… well, Sekibanki’s womb would not be growing lonely any soon. As it stood, Kagerou had to satisfy with tossing the whip and reinserting a hand down her panties to tease her erect – yet otherwise un-prick-like – clitoris.

The jolt of pleasure from her very female and very sensitive bits shocked her spine arrow-straight. The pursuing, sharp intake of breath flooded her nostrils with the heady bouquet of precum and Sekibanki’s natural lubricant. Kagerou’s balance faltered, pushing her face right up to the cock’s ridged, dribbling underbelly. All at once, the wolf-woman found herself up to the ears in a fantasy of trading places with her redhead friend: letting the brave human to massage Sekibanki’s girl-lube into the creases and folds of her vagina. A dangerous, dangerously plausible and, most of all, dangerously treacherous daydream. Kagerou shook out of it like a whipped dog.

Then, appeasing herself with her middle and ring fingers, nose stuck with the two’s slick arousal, she guided the man’s blunt cockhead to her headless friend’s lush womanhood. He dipped his entire length in her moist goodness until their groins touched again with bold, confident ease. Like he’d done it a hundred hundreds of times before. Sekibanki let go of a lingering gasp as the steady, womb-deep sex from Kagerou’s earlier leave resumed before the wolf-woman’s eyes.

On this occasion, of course, she was here to pick the figurative bone. So, Sekibanki’s flushed butt for a handhold, she righted herself up to level with the copulating two. So, she slipped the unoccupied hand under her friend’s mussy shirt to pop even more of its buttons.

Sekibanki’s breasts were glossy with sweat when Kagerou pulled them out of the gap: sweet, moderate things, each peaked by an erotic, salmon-pink nipple a touch too plump for the overall size. Standing on ends, there was scant in the way of doubt as to what kind of treatment they yearned for. Unlike Wakasagihime’s… or, honestly, Kagerou’s… the rokurokubi’s titties lured their admirers in with curves and colours over blunt cup-size. They hooked the wolf-woman’s hands: palms, fingertips and nails.

Sekibanki’s vacant shoulders tensed when Kagerou slid in from behind and pawed both of her friend’s unassuming breasts: thumbs and index fingers around those puffy nipples, and the rest – feeling up the doughy tit-flesh. Thrifty with her words as Sekibanki was (until, anyhow, a solid boozing), her chest was enough loquacious for three more naughty grouches; the stiffness of her pink, not-so-little nubs alone spoke tomes of how turned-on the testy rokurokubi was. Kagerou fancied she might sense each kiss the human’s glans pecked on the mouth of Sekibanki’s womb shoot aroused thrills up the redhead’s headless body – whatever swelling the wolf-woman’s fingers kneaded out of her friend’s nipples restored by the moment. A blind monk could touch the rokurokubi’s unreserved tits and understand she was having stealthy, promiscuous sex right in front of him.

Twiddling their stiff tips between her fingers, Kagerou recalled Sekibanki’s breasts had betrayed her likewise before. Once, on a sultry, Summer night – when the rokurokubi had drunk beyond her stomach and, flushed of cheek, recounted the story of a nosy human male discovering her in one of the town’s benighted alleys with nothing on but a cape, a look of surprise and a pervert’s grin. All of the wolf-woman’s skills in playing with herself under her dress would see their trial as she’d absorbed the ins and outs of the casual, back-alley tryst and ogled the nipples poking out through the sweat-stuck fabric of her friend’s shirt.

Qualms weren’t often entertained within the Network, toward fellows least of all; still, Kagerou winced at the rokurokubi’s disembodied head escaping the human’s tonguing to swivel about and scowl down the wolf-woman’s shenanigans. Of the Grassroots misfits’, it was Sekibanki’s quirk which had ever been subject to the leeriest scrutiny. Almost anybody may imagine living equipped with a fish-tail or growing hairy every full Moon; most couldn’t picture separating from their very own head. Sekibanki hadn’t to picture. Nor had those who gathered for snacks and sake on the shores of the Misty Lake. Sekibanki could parade her trappings with wilful spontaneity.

And yet, seeing her restrained body molested above and below while her head watched from the off was a different breed of exciting altogether. Kagerou’s nervousness ran away with her lips in a silly smile.

“Stop—” growled the Seki-head, “Stop pinching me, you damn— dogged— dyke! In fff—act,” it spluttered when Kagerou didn’t, “don’t touch my tits, period!”

A broader, scruffier face was eyeing Kagerou’s from beside her friend’s: a colour mirror of her own. And not in the slightest concerned for Sekibanki’s floating an uncomfortable arm-span off its nature-intended space atop her shoulders. Scary. The human adaptability was a scary thing. He’d even stopped his pumping hips, pressing them firmly against the punished rokurokubi’s to give way to the brewing argument. Kagerou buried her feelings on the matter for later gnawing.

And now, weathering the scarlet glare, she cupped both of Sekibanki’s squishy objects of contention.

“… Why?” she flirted. “They’re so cute, though. Sexy and cute,” she opined, too unluckily sober to add: like you. “… Aren’t they so, mister Human?”

The delivery man’s eyes swivelled beneath his brows and shaven pate: to Sekibanki’s bared charms firstly then back to Kagerou. The wolf-woman didn’t flinch from his sizzling attention. Instead, she knuckled down: determined not to feel attracted to those brows… or, pointedly, to remember what his cock had felt like inside her throat. Something clicked between Kagerou’s humanoid ears, diverting her thoughts, when he gave the airborne Seki-head a sidelong glance ahead producing an answer.

“… Yeah,” he wheezed at length. And next, fresher of breath, “Yeah. Sexy as drat all. Love ‘em, really. Wouldn’t mind seein’ them more.”

Sekibanki’s lips quirked as if she’d bit into a lemon… though offered nothing in comment.

“… As drat all,” repeated Kagerou, distractedly. “Mnn. Anyhow. It’s like he says, yunno? Would be a shame not to showboat them a bit, right?”

“Showboat yours, then!” snapped the Seki-head.

And then, quicker than self-deprecation mustered under the Kagerou cranium, a perfect double of the rokurokubi’s testy visage fizzed into physically by the wolf-woman’s steepled left ear.

There was no ducking the teeth. Kagerou yipped, a fair bit pained and a fairer one aroused, as the new Seki-head towed her out from behind its owner’s body by said ear. The absence of a rokurokubi’s titties in her palms curdled somewhat the piquancy of friendly roughhousing, though she let herself be stood, docile, beside her dishevelled company. The tyrant Seki-head relinquished her ear, swooping on down to nip on the collar of Kagerou’s low-cut, peasant dress. In response to a butt from its gentler twin, the delivery man reached over and hooked his fingers by the opposite edge.

Together with, they jerked the loose neckline under Kagerou’s bust.

The wolf-woman’s breasts flopped out: copious, heavy, emboldened by events conducted to date by all the sexy bodies involved. Their ample, caramel-cream teats, which Kagerou had been told were made to suckle boys, young and old, protruded on ends: so distended as to make the pores in their areolae plain to see in the cloudy, afternoon light. If she were pregnant, they would be spewing milk from the lightest squeeze. Kagerou flushed up to her follicles at the married attentions of her friend and the human, who had watched the reveal of her swollen teats with bated breath. Half a mind to crouch and shriek, the wolf-woman held herself, as it were, by the ears… even when the man, in an attitude of a bread-maker testing the dough, grabbed at one of her presented boobs with a grasping, callused hand. He sniggered, quite in a boyish way, once his handspan proved even so inadequate for a full purchase.

Kagerou’s shoulders drew in as his fingers sank into, kneaded and worked the pliability of her breast. Above, her face held the sheepish expression of a wolf-woman who had sucked on and abused a nice man’s cock precluding his consent and knew, fundamentally, courtesy dictated she do not complain of the favour being returned. And, as rogue arousal crossed her arms behind her head and rubbed her thighs on each other inside her dress, Kagerou turned her gaze up for the inevitable confrontation.

“We—Well?” she asked, her smile going strange before it had even shaped. “How are… yunno? Tits. Tits, I mean. Weird? Um. I haven’t scrubbed in a while, either, so…”

The twin Seki-heads snorted in disquieting sync. For his part, the human, rapt of face, had him another think first. “… ‘Weird?’” he echoed, following a length of pleasantly gropey deliberation. “No. Not for all the China in Gensokyo. Gorgeous, really. Great size; drat soft, too. Would love these on top of me. Or, bother, smothering my dick.”

“Maniac!” snapped the rokurokubi in eerie stereo.

“Can’t take the ape out of man, ma’am,” said the human sententiously. “Me see fine titty? Me pant for it.”

The tiny, self-conscious part of Kagerou’s brain which yet stuck above the mist of sexual excitement told her to titter. “Wa—Waka’s are bigger, though… a—and softer, also. Give a better… yunno what.”

And she knew at once her paws had struck something when the human’s eyes strayed without fail to the water’s edge despite her usage of nicknames. Absently, Kagerou’s own followed suit.

On the shore, the topless mermaid was engaged in an expertly impression of somebody who’d not been privy to the conversation yet happened, nonetheless, to be on a neighbouring page notion-wise. An untouched flask of wine had found its fortunes on the farther side of the flattened rock, incidentally smack-dab between the princess’s more-than-queen-sized breasts. Incidentally, Wakasagihime right then hugged her own, voluminous bust, squishing the wet mammaries together.

Incidentally, they engulfed the flask cork to base with naught left over sticking out.

Smiling at such a pleasing outcome, the mermaid princess eased up her hold until the lucky flask’s cork and neck were peeking out of her deep, glistening cleavage. Only then did she pretend to notice her awed audience.

“Oh, fancy!” she piped up, unfolding her arms to wave a coquettish, little wave, breasts spilling out sideways like so full skins of warm milk. “Mister Human, I was about to ask you. May I? Once you’ve concluded chastising our indiscreet members, perhaps you will join me for a bath? Water’s very fine today and, our Kagerou may corroborate, I give baths the like one does not forget. A perk of this… body, you see?”

Kagerou’s wolf-ears alerted her to the man swallowing a globe of spit. “Ye—Yeah,” he croaked. “I see, drat well.”

Wakasagihime circled a long, blue fingernail round the flask’s earthenware lip. “… Will you, then?” she wished to know. “Oh, but before everything… and apropos nothing at all,” she pressed on in a tone foreign to wiles, “awkward as it may be, mermaids are able and love to have sex with humans. Normal sex, mind you. Not breasts- or hands- or mouth-stuff alone. Although I’ll… a mermaid’ll gladly do all those as well – even if she’d rather feel you inside, sliding your thick, manly rod up to her baby-room. Well, but this was about a bath, though, yes…?”

It wasn’t about a bath. The thickest of Gensokyo’s rural skulls could’ve percolated as much and, save the limbs and a certain other place, the new, human Grassroot (temporary) was no Sun-broiled farmhand to miss the bold writing. This was about going a second round with a big-titted mermaid; it was an offer of inter-species sex more exotic than screwing a bound, beheaded rokurokubi or a woman of added canine accoutrements. And Kagerou, in whose mind the thought had framed and who realised she’d once again placed herself, the man and sex within the same sentence, became aware of looks being exchanged.

“… What?” growled the Seki-head previous dedicated to kissing its stern chastener. “Why’re you gawping my way? What’s it to me?”

The man pooled his thinker’s brows above his nose. Concurrently, his baker’s hand flaked away from Kagerou’s (now heavyhearted as well as heavy) breast. “Well—” He dug its thumb under the band of Sekibanki’s skirt, pushing the upraised, panty-hung leg higher yet and grinding their coupled privates. “… Yunno,” he said exhaustively.

“Nn—No!” protested Sekibanki. “No, I dun-no! What’s it got to do with—”

“Seki.” The human’s tones, if not his caresses, were long-suffering. “Yunno, right?”

“What? Cause it’d be— Wait, you don’t possibly believe I haven’t—!”

“Nuh-uh,” he opined, “reckon fair you haven’t. ‘S why I’d feel like a bit of a twit. Adore as I’d do to, er, bathe with a real princess…”

The Seki-head by Kagerou’s auditory equipment blurred, milking away into the shoreside mists. The one by the human’s began to spit oaths. At volume and variety. “—damn, dirty animals… beasts! Horn-dogs! All of you!” she polished the tirade off, redder by the word. “Why am I, hff the one getting fucked… ah? With those here? Why me?!”

“Innit punishment?” hazarded the human.

If looks were fire, Sekibanki’s would’ve singed his facial hair. Something else passed between the two as the rokurokubi’s head reclaimed the stump of her neck: lips miming, but lacking for a voice. A verbal bit did come attached, only from behind the flared collar of Sekibanki’s cape. “… porking fine, if you want to,” was what it was. “You do want to too, right? She does, I can bloody tell you that.”

The last remark flew Kagerou’s way, who gathered her skirts in nervous fists. The delivery man gave her (drooping breasts) a somewhat appreciative once-over.

“Well—” He glanced between them and the other, begrudgingly exhibited pair. “Sure, but… She’s already kind of blown me, so—”

“Want to fuck her or not?” growled Sekibanki.

The man made a resigned sound and then to plant a kiss on the rokurokubi’s half-hidden nose. “… Twice as less as I want to do you, Seki.”

Sekibanki snorted her reservations on that. “A damned wonder you haven’t pushed her down, then,” she muttered. “And you, Miss Wolf?” she asked, louder. “Want him to do you? No bullshit? No strings attached?”

“Seki—”

“Shut up. Gift horse. Teeth. Geddit? Kage?”

As one man-and-woman-conjoined, they turned to watch for Kagerou’s consent. Under such a glare of spotlight, the wolf-woman’s eyes went rather as those of a doe.

A youkai’s own truth was, she’d lain with humans before. A wolf (Kagerou) didn’t live long around sheep (humans) without learning what it was they got up to or, as it were, off to on safe pastures. A wolf didn’t live long without trying these things for herself. Or then coming back for more. Of her own volition and want at times… and, at times, at the behest of other wolves. Wakasagihime’s and Sekibanki’s, to point at but two. And, for its obvious parallels, it was Sekibanki’s previous one which sprang to Kagerou’s mind.

To lay it on finely, she’d been bullied to stand in for a night shift at her friend’s workplace in the Human Village. A rare occasion which’d seen the wolf devoured by the sheep. Metaphorically, anyway.

It’d seemed easy and been so to start; a trio of regulars renting one of the tea-house’s private rooms for teas, booze and cards was, to hear Sekibanki tell it, nothing out of the norm. With her absent, moreover, and the remaining staff retired to their homes, Kagerou would have a fully free hand in waiting on “the pricks.” Missing fingers, on that note, writ under acceptable damage.

All this’d sounded like silliness to Kagerou because, raucous and free with their own hands as they’d soon displayed themselves, “the pricks” had turned out passably to the wolf-woman’s like. They’d talked because men talked, and swaggered because men swaggered, but hadn’t made Kagerou want to run or bite like Sekibanki had forewarned. Neither had they groped any places she’d not enjoyed at least a little bit. She’d sat beside them, trying to follow the game, and then shared in the drink’s next round around the table. She’d giggled at their crass jokes and let the men draw her into their odd, little, human fold.

She’d been veritably tiddly, not to mention hot in her clothes from all the stray touching, by the time it’d been suggested she up the stakes for the cards. And, giddily, Kagerou had thrown in her lot.

They’d played for her brassiere first. Then her garters. Then her panties, which the winner had sniffed and licked up the middle to general merriment. Then for deep, sloppy kisses. Then, finally, with her undergarments renounced and disposition softened to its limits, they had played for the waitress to straddle the lap of and distract the victor of each subsequent round. The catch being, Kagerou had found after the first and the cleverest man’s win, that she would need to spread open a certain part of herself and sit down very slowly once she had. The losers had jeered the wolf-woman’s strained faces as she’d negotiated her tight womanhood down their mate’s hard, savagely bent cock, but they’d been good-humoured jeers… and the competition had thereon turned more ferocious by half.

Swapping lap for lap, each man’s tool and technique different enough to keep her constantly on edge, Kagerou had managed to climax twice – and been come inside once – by the tourney’s fierce conclusion.

The best had been still the first, the bowed one. Seated sideways, rocking her hips back and forth, Kagerou could massage her vagina’s weakest spots on its curve with sweet abandon, while the man had dealt the cards with one hand and pinched her unprotected nipples through her top with the other. It’d been he, too, who had broken and inadvertently loosed his seed into her womb when she’d mounted him with too much enthusiasm after too many swaps and near-orgasms in too fast a succession. He’d pulsed and throbbed inside her for a full, shamefaced minute – buried to the hairy hilt, his bare tip pressed up to her cervix – peppered all the while with playful abuse from both his mates and the stealthily masturbating Kagerou. That’d spelt the end of his streak… and, although she’d been tacitly allowed to nurse him until his long, crooked cock had once again stretched out her soaked insides, another – the youngest, fittest of the three – had taken the ultimate prize: screwing the waitress, solo, in whichever lewd position he’d fancied.

It’d be the first and, thus far, only time Kagerou would be carried off to an empty room and put inside a genuine, belly-on-belly, tongues-intertwined, no-escape mating press.

Humans were, after all, scary.

She’d cited this fact (and little else) to Sekibanki, handing in the keys at the crack of next dawn. The pay had been satisfactory… and the sex, no less so… yet washing her own sweat and squirt out of the uniform’s lacy thigh-highs while sobering up wasn’t a job experience Kagerou had craved to have, let alone repeat. In her usual fashion, Sekibanki had shrugged her white shoulders, sighed… and let the sleeping wolves lie. They were friends, and friends didn’t press each other’s issues.

Well, Kagerou didn’t. Hers, however, were feeling a lot of pressure from Sekibanki and the man who’d addressed her by a pet name and known who “Waka” stood for despite the surface officiality of his business with the Grassroots.

In brief, what Kagerou thought was being asked was whether she wanted to screw Sekibanki’s boyfriend.

She was nodding busily and pulling her panties down in no time flat. Good girl though she was, the sordid sound of it alone was turning her on something moony. The man swallowed with a detectable click in his throat. He didn’t release the trussed redhead yet, though his eyes were pasted to the fact of Kagerou’s underwear lying discarded in the grass. She didn’t move either. Her fists felt stapled to her bunched-up dress with an anxious clinch. Of course, it was but a momentary standoff; Kagerou had always considered her interactions with humans as a series of standoffs followed by someone falling prey, anyhow.

An urging rokurokubi—noise later, and at last he divorced his boyish hips from Sekibanki’s. His hearty, suckable cock escaped her feminine clutches with a pull of hot, liquid disappointment. There was no guessing which had done the bigger number on which; the wealth of tacky, white strings sagging between his rugged shaft and her red, gaping labia could’ve been the fruits of his orgasm as good as hers. The few strands of wiry, carmine hair stuck along his length at least were telling a plain story. Sekibanki hadn’t groomed herself before tonight.

Tall and chiselled inside his mussed jacket, the delivery man unhanded the redhead rokurokubi, who wobbled on her rice-soft knees. He steadied her by one caped shoulder with tenderness shocking in a human in so visible a furore. His broad, shaven frontage was then presented to Kagerou, whose heart thumped in her cramped, slavering throat. Upright as an oak, dribbling beads of clear lube and ready to resume mating, the man’s cock swung along to point approximately at Kagerou’s chin.

Vaguely aware her tail was milling the air behind her, the wolf-woman stood very still, waiting to find out in what amazing way she would be taken.

“Oh no,” a voice intruded on the fantastic things about to happen. “Oh no, no, phooey! This won’t do. Won’t do at all, this! Mister Human? Counsel, if you’ll please? Over here.”

On the shore, levered up by an arm on the muddy bank, the topless mermaid bade the human come. Her enormous, gravity-abused tits streamed water from a recent dive. It put Kagerou in mind of a milkmaid.

Snubbed and not a little short-changed, the wolf-woman leered her envy as the human tiptoed out of his discarded trousers and, losing the jacket too along the way, sashayed for the water’s edge. He squatted in the muck, glutes rippling, tilting his head of neat, cropped hair at the enigmatically beckoning princess. Kagerou simmered but, being Kagerou, kept on a steely lid. On no mercy cue, Wakasagihime jacked her upper body up on the tail and arms, looping the latter around the man’s hunky neck and laughing with praise when he didn’t topple backwards from the sudden tackle-hug. Out of their home environs, the mermaid’s massive, matronly bust sagged so low as to sandwich the slippery erection jutting out above the human’s waist.

That same waist embarked, upon whispered encouragement, on a not in the least subtle, teetering attempt to make the most out of this incidental tit-job, all the while the voluptuous princess delivered her decrees straight into its operator’s ear.

And Kagerou simmered.

Very much nearby, Sekibanki was spicing her frustration. Arms tied still at her back, those palmable titties tucked out her shirt and a glare to put a fire under her indiscriminate boyfriend’s ass, she cut a rokurokubi-shaped dash through Kagerou’s self-restraint. The air around the slovenly redhead was rife with the smell of hot, wet sex. Her sex… and, likewise, that which she’d been having until moments ago. No two angles to bite it, either. Someone must have had an orgasm there; pheromones didn’t fly this thick excepting a recent climax or if you were a wolf-woman in midst of season. Nostrils flared, Kagerou swallowed the scent in greedy draughts, too aroused to abstain even if it should be her own.

Sekibanki watched on the two happenchance fellow perverts on the shore, fuming. There was the mute clamour of dropped balls and the soundless crack of chipped pride.

“Um. You OK, Seki?” said Kagerou, a master employer of tact.

The rokurokubi’s smouldering eyes flickered to the wolf-woman’s uncovered boobs. “… All fine,” she assured, not whatsoever sounding it.

Kagerou smiled with nerves. “Gypped?”

Sekibanki’s collar caught her sigh. “… Now look, you,” she said, petulant. “I’m me. I’d not’ve said anything if I hadn’t accounted for you’d say yes. Yes?”

“Yes. But.”

“That?” asked Sekibanki, likely of the human who’d moved on to press the mermaid’s tits tight together for his enjoyment while she dangled from his upper quarters. The newest swerve being, now they were kissing to boot. “That’s fine,” grumbled Sekibanki. “I’ve known her, too. Waka’ll tongue anyone, right?”

“Um. Well. She’s tongued me,” Kagerou said dumbly. “So, I guess no worries…?”

“Kage?”

“Yes?”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“Oh.”

Unlike Sekibanki, Kagerou wasn’t above a blush when her secrets were let slip. So, she did blush – even unto the loud, smacking termination of the mermaid’s kissing, vertical tit-job.

“A small taste,” Wakasagihime told the human, who humped her abyssal cleavage to the very end and her dropping from his shoulders. Eel-swift, the mermaid princess slithered back down the lake’s marshy bank. “More later,” she promised, smug as a salmon in fresh water. “Wolves around now. Ought to tame those firstly before you can fish in peace. No? Should be but a cinch.”

The delivery man’s head followed her wake until she docked (her tits) once again at her stone-table. “… Hold you to it,” he gibed, righting up. “The advice, that is.”

“Ah, please—” Wakasagihime laughed with easy coquetry. “I have said nothing arcane. Have I?”

He scoffed at that. “Righto.”

Whereupon, even manlier scarier now he was in the nude, the wolfish human swivelled on a heel to bear down right on the sheep-still Kagerou.

In deference to wolfhood, however, he manoeuvred himself behind her unruly tail. An un-wolflike yip passed the tightness of her throat when her hips were taken rein of by the man’s venturous hands. He stooped closer, wreathed in his man-smell, to whisper in Kagerou’s agog, prickling ear. One of the pink, humanoid pair, anyway.

“… Sorry, but the princess said not to have sex with you,” he said in naughty conspiratorial; “not until we’ve finished with Seki, anyway. Something about disobedience, blah-di-blah. Can’t rightly break another royal mandate, can we?”

Kagerou growled. Growled. Athrill from the bodily proximity of this amazing of a male, the worst of her instincts were wiggling out of their slips. “Mngrr. Probably…?”

“Makes one of us thinks so,” quipped the human. “So, here’s the next best thing. Since I really want that bath, OK? Get down on the ground. On your back. I’ll go and clue in Seki.”

“Um. What for?” Kagerou worried aloud.

The delivery man gripped her hip reassuringly. “Trust the princess. You’ll like it. Still,” he went on to add, “when that’s drat well done…”

“Uh-huh?”

“… Want to fuck you,” breathed the man, tension cracking his voice, never mind the manners. “Just sniffing you right now is fantastic. Sexier brunette I haven’t bloody seen, either. Want to blow a big load inside you if it’s my last delivery.”

The simmering, which Kagerou had entertained now for a while, suddenly lost its water, and she found herself smoking from the ears instead. Oh, she’d been fed similar lines before; no mistake, “the pricks” had had filthier mouths by a midden. Yet this, she had on decent conjecture, was Sekibanki’s partner speaking them. Her friend’s mate. That made Kagerou feel the bad wolf indeed.

The bad wolf who stuck out her rear to grind it on her friend’s lover’s cock through her clothes while conspiring, “… Me too. I want thisss. I want your puppieees.”

Immediately she wished to maul herself, but the human simply chuckled, “I’ll see what I can do. I will. Just not a peep to Seki.”

And there he went. Though not ahead copping the wolf-woman’s randy behind.

Zowie, but she could see why Sekibanki fancied him. This was the redhead Grassroot’s jealously-kept secret. There was a genuine hot-spring underneath the harsh pumice. Honey behind the stingers, as it were. You only had to tease it out. The delivery man was just now demonstrating himself to be well-equipped for the task. To wit, a stupendous tease.

Kagerou wanted to bite him. “The pricks” could never do what was achieved now; and the wolf-woman knew, up in her pheromone-swimming head, who it was she wanted on top for her second-ever mating press.

Cool, lakeside breeze stroked her sweaty skin as she set about pulling her dress up over her head… and then changed her tack.

Her breasts were one thing and not her own prerogative; she’d never stripped down for a male on their first dinner… or their first sex… and there weren’t enough cups in Kagerou’s blood to except that rule now. “The pricks” couldn’t skin her out of the uniform, and she’d drunk thrice tonight’s mileage with those. No number of compliments from Wakasagihime would change it; the coarser tracts of her body weren’t for first-timers and that was final. The princess herself, what’s more, must satisfy with only this flash of Kagerou’s pantiless rear. The dress stayed – more or less on. It’d soften the ground, anyhow.

An outburst of rokurokubi temper tweaked her wolf-ears as she lay down on a grassier patch. The human had conquered the buckles of Sekibanki’s gothic cape and was now defeating one by one the remaining of her shirt’s buttons. Those gave in with not a half of their owner’s cursed objections; and, ahead the latter could afflict him in earnest, he sealed them firmly between Sekibanki’s mouth and his. Kissed into silence, the redhead rokurokubi might squirm and not much beyond while her cape was discarded and her shirt peeled down her bound arms, leaving her decency with only the shoes and indecently short skirt to call on. Kagerou cringed in jealous sympathy when the man, by way of penalty for calling him such names perhaps, viciously flicked both of her friend’s puffy, erect nipples. Sekibanki flinched, kneeing him feebly in revenge.

The look she presented him once their tongues were divorced was so hateful, it well could’ve circled right back into love. Kagerou’s mood would have preserved meat for a year… if, anyhow, she hadn’t right then cottoned on to what it was the delivery man, now with a scowling Sekibanki in tow, meant to do to her friend with the wolf-woman’s horizontal assistance. There was a peremptory grunt and a faint, seductive shudder.

Then, the human threw the half-nude, trussed rokurokubi face-first atop the wide-eyed Kagerou.

Womanly shapes – one sleek, one plumper – collided. Kagerou gasped as Sekibanki’s wrinkled nose plunged down the cleft of her naked bust. The muffled expletive and overall flexing of the slighter youkai’s body suggested some intent of extricating her face from its plush prison; the wolf-woman, however, nipped this in the bud by raising and locking her legs around the small of Sekibanki’s back. Simultaneously, she groped under her friend’s skirt for a double palmful of the gorgeous, spanked-red ass. Smushed against her senior Grassroot, as soft and warm as she’d have you believe she wasn’t, Sekibanki turned up one incensed eye. The rokurokubi’s dirty, saliva-wet lips brushed the inner slope of Kagerou’s left breast as she spoke.

Or, truth to tell, mumbled.

“… You’re so, so,” she stressed, “so getting fucked after this. Mark me. Mmmark meee…”

And, accordingly to her friend’s wishes, Kagerou did mark. She marked how the man, having knelt at her rear, licked his fingers, stretched open and then unceremoniously plugged Sekibanki’s oozing womanhood with his hard, brutish cock. She marked her friend’s glare glazing over the deeper he pushed. The helpless pangs of sexual pleasure. The silent O of ecstasy shaped against the skin of her breasts when the human shoved his thick, final inch inside with hip-jogging force. She felt his girth plumb Sekibanki’s depths through their touching bellies; she felt his laden, shaven sack rest against her mons when he scuffed even closer for a steadier grip on the rokurokubi’s sexy, honest body.

There were one or two glances of unresolved tension until the delivery man cut it loose, prying Kagerou’s hands away from his punished partner’s ass. One of those he brushed aside, switching in his own. The other he held up, out of Sekibanki’s purview, lacing his fingers through hers like he would a paramour’s. He arched one of those handsome brows he had over the rokurokubi’s stuck rear, wheedling. Tempting.

In that moment truly did Kagerou feel the traitor. She could read the lettering in the situation, yes, she could. The human wouldn’t simply hold her hand as he screwed their mutual, redhead friend; he’d screw said friend all the while fantasising on Kagerou’s pregnant proposition. And Kagerou, of course, wouldn’t merely act the soft, wolfy rug for the screwing to happen atop. She’d delight in every second and every lucky inch of skinship with the friend she crushed on, even while said friend was being taken from behind by a man. A man whom Kagerou herself wanted to be mounted and taken by. With a treasonous, sticky finish in her baby-room if all panned out.

It was the worst ethically convoluted thing the wolf-woman had ever yearned for… and she’d once sucked off a farmhand for nothing more than a bushel of freshly picked, green apples. Complete with a clean-up and a second round. And the farmhand had been none too bright. And probably too young for sex first of all…

Still she eked out a nod, not positive what it was she was assenting to but too nervous to investigate. The oblong bulge in Sekibanki’s stomach retreated by degrees in the wake of her boyfriend’s affirmatory flex. Stretch by stretch, vein behind vein, he pulled himself out of the rokurokubi’s tame, clingy womanhood, his salacious gaze locked the whole way with that of Kagerou’s. And there, freed of his actual partner’s grasp and deaf to her moaned plea to “put it innn, you beassst,” he held. Waiting. His predatory lean gave him a coercive cast.

Understanding jolted straight Kagerou’s wolf-ears. There in her obscured nether regions, she felt his slimy tip nudging her muff. The wolf-woman peeked incredulously up at her friend’s boyfriend’s face and, as she did so, she was aware of being peeked at in turn. With little in the way of moral thought, she wedged a hand where her belly met Sekibanki’s to get at her jilted privates.

And then, with two of her long-nailed, manicured fingers, she stretched her precious lady-bits as obscenely wide as she could.

It was humanity in all its wickedness. Vows like smoke on the wind. Wolf-women screwed in defiance of royal mandates. Yet she’d herself yearned for this, had Kagerou; and so, she said nothing. She said nothing when the tip of the human’s cock was placed against her entrance; she said nothing when her labia wrapped flush around his cockhead and pushed the foreskin back from its whole, engorged girth – leaving his already scuffed endurance to contend with the inhuman creases and folds in her vaginal walls. She made nary a squeak of sound, save for that of her tail sweeping her ground, when he tweaked his hips to prod his stiffness at where he’d assumed – and assumed rightly – Kagerou’s G-spot should be. She clenched all around him, swooning from the intimate back-and-forth, fresh wolf-woman-juice mingling with his pre-come and Sekibanki’s girl-lube to further ease what the former two both craved.

A full, womb-deep, human-on-wolf-woman mating insertion.

Slower than either of them would’ve liked no doubt, they got it and nothing short; and Kagerou’s snug, quivering womanhood was crammed to full of her friend’s boyfriend’s raw, pre-come leaking cock. The wolf-woman tipped back her muzzy head, barely clutching her rebelling quiet. Never mind whose boyfriend he was or wasn’t; that cock of his was a beast. The thickness on its own would’ve trounced Kagerou’s womanhood into meek submission; and, the devil of a delivery man hadn’t spared her an inch in his journey toward her womb. He’d filled her up slowly, so that the ridge of his glans would explore and smooth out her every crease; he’d prised her digits ungently from her crotch, so that her labia would hug and coddle every bump and vein of his they kissed and swallowed in the proceedings. Over everything, the fingers of her other hand were positively making love to his: squeezing, rubbing, striving hard to leave no lonely space whatsoever from the tips down to the heel of her palm.

And lastly, there, beneath one of those coarser areas Kagerou had been loath to showboat, her womanhood was striving just the same. As had her wet, hungry throat, even earlier.

Though, that couldn’t have held a candle to the real thing, now.

It was the real thing, what’s more. It shamed… and aroused the wolf-woman to no end to think so, but it so, so was. It wasn’t a job, a dare or even a trade; the lusty, human Grassroot (temporary) was mashing their groins and pushing his cockhead up to the entrance of Kagerou’s baby-room for no reason except he wanted to, and Kagerou was over the Moon to let him. Should he come like so… and, given the throbbing of his shaft, it was well within the realms of danger… then his seed would gush straight into the wolf-woman’s unprotected womb. There weren’t fitter words for what they were doing but for “regular,” “breeding” and “sex.”

… As probable, anyhow, as this one was to finally get her pregnant. Kagerou’s long experience harboured its reservations on it. Clearly, half-wolf babies weren’t as easily made as the first, happenstance, creampie sex with a human male. Or the second. Or third. Or twenty-third…

Of course, it could be rather for the best in this case. Getting impregnated by her second-best friend’s boyfriend bit a bit too close to a real breach of faith. The stuff of real bad wolves. Kagerou despondently reminded herself she wasn’t one.

She’d been enough wicked still to forget all about the intervening Sekibanki until she grumbled her thoughts on the inaction into the wolf-woman’s breasts.

“Heeey—”

Then and there, Kagerou’s Sekibanki’s musclebound, human mate heaved a sudden and grand breath. It had the earmarks of being minutes old. He quavered from head to head – from the specimen straddling his broad shoulders to the one the end of his wood-stiff cock – ducking Sekibanki’s backward glare as best he might. Sekibanki’s trademark feature ensured he mightn’t very well.

“So—Sorry,” he rasped. Swallowed. Then ventured to speak again. “… Wrong hole. Tight as drat, too. Must’ve been a virgin afore this mishap.”

He’d wheezed that last one with a peek Kagerou-wise, who gave a sour little shake in her turn. The human scoffed.

“More’s the wonder,” he said.

At which, the frustrated rokurokubi brought forth all of her writhing exasperation. “Oh, for fuck’s—” There was a spell of profanity of much jiggling of the rosy buttocks. “—all fine? You’ll pork her laterrr,” Sekibanki mewled. “Have you the damned first how close I wasss? Give it to me! You’ve got me where you wanted, so take that fucking prick out of her and fuck me!”

Shock and awe ruled the interregnum left behind by Sekibanki’s coup on subtlety. Then, the human deposed those himself.

Until now, he’d looked a man always bestride a horse of politeness. That horse was now switching skittishly hoof to hoof. He stared the wolf-woman he was menacing with pregnancy in the startled eyes.

“… Sorry,” was the only lame jape which trotted out, “but this girl pays for my bread, yunno?”

Kagerou daren’t answer the question. Most of her contemporaries thought the wolf-woman of the Grassroots Network a reticent soul, mild of manner and at large un-youkai-like, unless the youkai happened to be another wolf-woman. She felt a paltry one of these three once Sekibanki’s awesomely-endowed boyfriend girded himself to leave her. In nowise a position to hamstring that motion, Kagerou grudgingly left him.

Or, anyway, between her ears she did. Her womanhood plainly had its own idea: its petals clinging and stretching and trailing stickily after every exiting inch of their long bounty, up until its swollen tip popped free of their grip with a smack that was an awkward glance short of a sloppy first kiss. He must’ve reasoned similarly; Kagerou sensed him nudge his cockhead at her considerably loosened entrance for a do-over. Then, she tensed in vicious pleasure when he drove it up toward her erect clitoris, chased by the rest of his bumpy shaft.

The finish brought a hard tap on Kagerou’s unshaved mons. A stubborn I’ll-be-back to what lay, hot and itchy since she’d first smelt the awesome member, below.

In the middle of it all had been Sekibanki, who went from panting down Kagerou’s sweaty cleavage to moaning like a fairy who’d just discovered her happiness button no sooner than the human’s hips slammed her ass for the third, consequent time. Anywhen else, she would’ve been sorely tempted to sneak a hand down her dress and stroke the front of her panties if she’d heard Sekibanki engaging in such a repertoire; now, with said panties misplaced, the wolf-woman slid two of her longest, most dexterous fingers straight into her vagina.

In short order, the cock which Kagerou’d done so well to lube up was rutting their mutual friend with smooth, full-length thrusts which jogged the sexy rokurokubi back and forth atop the wolf-woman’s soft, half-nude body. Sekibanki’s voice, that guarded thing, came in erotic gasps, each clocked to the man’s cock plying her soaked walls to knock on the entrance of her baby-room. The room which would soon be very, very much occupied.

Something in the picture of an expecting, knocked-up Sekibanki spurred Kagerou’s unfaithful fingers to scrape her weak spots with greater verve. Cumbersome, the angle of access to her lady-bits made her nails something of a liability, but she’d given herself orgasms in hairier circumstances, had the wolf-woman, and surely ones less conducive than playing the pillow for two attractive people to screw on.

All that Kagerou missed was something with which to reciprocate. And something, in fact, was within reciprocation range. The wolf-woman had only to crane her neck. And someone else’s into the arrangement.

“Nff. He—Hey, ‘Banki?” she called.

There wasn’t an analogy for the junior Grassroot’s state once she pricked up her chin and showed her face. If she’d had a care for make-up, she’d have eyeshadow running down her cheeks.

Kagerou’s maiden heart thumped in her throat. Sex and Sekibanki got on like grease and hot coals in the cooking pit of her imagination, but this went quite a bit further than sexy. It was slutty. Her big, ox-shouldered boyfriend was stuffing her full of his meat from behind, and the routinely dishonest redhead made not the least effort to mask where she felt it best. Which was to say: everywhere his expert cock touched inside.

“Whaaat,” she half-moaned, half-puffed, chin planted on the wolf-woman’s sternum. “I’mfff, shyort of, busssyyy…”

Kagerou gulped down the newfound question – of how often they screwed when Sekibanki wasn’t meeting with her friends and relaying how they’d screwed (sans names) – speaking in favour of its more Kagerou-centred predecessor.

“Can—” she began. “Can I, um… please lick your lips?”

Sekibanki’s coveted feature warped into a slight grimace. “Told you, Kageee,” she managed to retort, “I don’t— fffuck! I don’t— bloody— swing that way! I like men! With, hff, pricks! Geddit?”

Me too, thought Kagerou. “M—Me too,” said Kagerou, more defensively than her thoughts. “OK, look,” she tackled, seeing Sekibanki’s focus slide, “it’s like this: I’ve fellated him, you’ve probably fellated him. It’s like… sharing, isn’t it? If we were doing it together, we’d all but have to kiss. So’s not, yunno, that different…?”

Straightaway she knew her clumsy rationale was bouncing off of the rokurokubi’s hair-stuck, frowning forehead. Then, promptly, it was her forehead which bounced off of Kagerou’s cushiony tits.

“Give the girl a bloody kiss, Seki,” said the delivery man. He’d stanched his abuse of Sekibanki’s pretty womanhood to jostle her forward with his hips – closer Kagerou’s kissy quarters.

Their mutual, wilful friend resisted, in the process lifting her ass on her knees and arching her naked back, but not beyond the man’s brutish, second shove. That one saw the frowny forehead bump into the waiting wolf-woman’s.

There was a barbless, sex-softened curse… and then, dead ahead, Sekibanki’s gorgeous, all-panning eyes mellowed in reluctant suit.

“… No tongue,” she warned.

“Mm. OK,” said the happy Kagerou.

Canting her wolf-eared head, she pressed her lips almost chastely to Sekibanki’s… at the same time curling her fingers inside herself to stimulate her G-spot.

The human squeezed their hands which, someway, they were still holding, and resumed the lewd massage of Sekibanki’s needy, sodden insides. Slower, on this happening, so the two female friends could smooch each other’s lips, necks and noses with something approaching ease… even if it was somewhat foxed by Kagerou’s desire to taste her secret crush’s tongue. The stiff peaks of Sekibanki’s humble breast scraped and poked the skin of her own – a curious sensation which the wolf-woman brushed aside to the benefit of her friend’s mouth’s sucking a naughty hickey on the underside of her jaw. Kagerou moaned – loudly, without reservations – into the slutty rokurokubi’s ear.

It was lost then, though Kagerou would find it later, that Sekibanki could’ve fled these attentions whenever… yet never did. It’d cause more than one smug remark in the evenings ahead.

The climax wasn’t, so to say, long in coming. Sekibanki’s tells weren’t artful in the slightest; she flopped all over, burying her face in the wolf-woman’s valley, which cued her human mate to smack his waist harder against her ass. Masturbating, flicking her clit like a wolf-girl in her very first heat, Kagerou sped to match her redhead friend’s onrushing orgasm. Woefully, the pads of her fingers matched short against the human’s pumping member.

One thrust, two thrusts and three of the massive cock spearing her delicate womanhood on its length, and Sekibanki trembled in the prefatory throes of her climax. A muffled, almost solitary climax Kagerou was bitterly foiled not to have mirrored despite being so, so close.

… Until, anyhow, the horny frustration was snared by the human who, purple of face and no doubt other parts, threw his head back to roar his want for release.

Opportunity smiled; and Kagerou, once again, spread herself wide for him with her slimy, aching, fingers.

“M—Mister, mff, Human?”

He hadn’t to be summoned twice. Nor told. With an apish grunt, he slid his throbbing cock out of Sekibanki’s writhing, coming womanhood and slammed it, down to the meaty base, into Kagerou’s.

Scary. So scary. His bare, beastly cockhead had someway pushed every last one of her vagina’s little triggers. A wolf-woman could fall in love like that.

For the span of a frenzied minute, he screwed her like a wolf. He screwed her harder, faster and deeper than he had Sekibanki. His savage, human cock stumbled all over Kagerou’s best, most secret places to come with as if it’d been gods-made to break wolf-women in. Jolts of base, female pleasure shot up from her lower reaches, shocking her spine straight and rolling her eyes back in their sockets. The nearby Wakasagihime hardly mattered anymore. Kagerou’s tongue lolled out of her agape mouth and, rather than bite it, she loosed into the air a howled mating call that’d earn her unsolicited visits from enamoured youths till the next full Moon.

Too bad for those, her womb already belonged to the scary humans.

Which peaked first was anybody’s guess but Kagerou’s; the wolf-woman was too enwrapped in her pent-up lust to care if she’d been impregnated already or would be in moments. Once she came, her legs kicked out like they hadn’t since the mating-press incident; she heard a scream, although could never affirm whose it was ahead she plunged over the edge into numb ecstasy. Squirt and quite a bit of something else gushed from her elated lady-bits, trickling warmly down the crotch and sack of the man wedged in between her thighs. His arched cock jumped and throbbed deep inside her belly, hampering the rare, vaginal orgasm it’d scratched out of her, yet Kagerou wouldn’t have had him pull out for a dozen more Seki-kisses. There, not even a handspan away from his redhead girlfriend’s, the human was planting his thick seed inside Kagerou’s baby room, while the former coasted out her afterglow none the wiser. And, while the wolf-woman creamed herself around his vigorously spurting cock.

It may have been flagrant cheating… but that merely made it all the racier. The delivery man raced it to the finish by leaning down, over Sekibanki’s nude shoulder, to smother Kagerou’s panting mouth under his own.

It was the lewdest thing the wolf-woman would ever not admit to dreaming about afterwards.

It was evening. The same evening as before, on that substance, although with rather a few marked rearrangements. Sekibanki, the junior Grassroot, had just quit her filthy swearing at her senior and friend, Kagerou, who’d drawn the still-bound rokurokubi astride her lap for a touch of feminine after-care, where “touch” entailed mostly Kagerou’s fingertips around and inside Sekibanki’s tenderer regions. On the shore, up to mid-thigh in water, the human stood arms akimbo, while the big-titted mermaid princess groped his glutes and tormented his manhood with what she’d termed a “restorative” blowjob. It seemed to involve her throat a lot.

Among all this, Kagerou decided the time was ripe for some nosing. In Sekibanki’s affairs was the pick, if only for the meanwhile.

“So-o,” she queried her redhead crush, “know him, do you?”

Sekibanki gave her a look which was the ocular equivalent of an item on the restaurant menu with a red asterisk. “What tipped you off?”

The wolf-woman didn’t deign to name body parts. “Can’t place you inviting a human you didn’t trust, is all.”

Sekibanki sighed. “Got it in one. I do that. Trust him. Blech.”

Kagerou giggled. Close up, it was easy to sniff around Sekibanki’s sarcasm and to the pith of her feelings. “So, what I mean, is he that guy? The one from the alley? Where he—”

“—nabbed me perving and then ate me out,” filled in Sekibanki. “Yes. Him. And yes, I did jerk him off with my foot after. Sounded hot at the time.”

“Then, the one you lent one of your heads to for a night, and he—”

“Same. Said it’d be for company, ended up fucking its mouth into the wee hours. Jaw-ache in the morning, first ever. Hff.”

Kagerou began to speak. Kagerou stopped beginning to speak. That wasn’t the version of events a boozed Sekibanki had recounted to her friends, in which a lone Seki-head had to undo an uncooperative man’s trousers with her teeth to demonstrate that human men go involuntary erections when distressed, but the wolf-woman wasn’t about to dig in. It could have been another guy. It likely wasn’t, but it could’ve.

“And, um,” she wavered, unsure which other story to safely refer to.

Turned out, she needn’t to. Sekibanki confirmed them all in one swoop. “Yes, yes and yes,” she groaned. “I don’t have two dozen boy-toys strewn about Gensokyo, Kage. If I’ve told you, bottom line, it was him. Happy?”

“… The panty-job under the table at your tea-house?” Kagerou ventured. “Where you served the customers pantiless and kept circling round to him to keep him hard—”

An ugly sound sputtered out of the rokurokubi’s naked chest. “Fuck me with a— When did I—?”

“You were drunk,” offered Kagerou. She didn’t offer what else had been shared on the panties’ ultimate whereabouts because she was a good friend. “Waka goaded you on. Sexy story, though. Very. Um.”

“Thanks,” said Sekibanki, crisply. “Was there a point attached to that, or what?”

“… Mm. Well,” said the wolf-woman, slowing her motions. “Was wondering. Why today? Where you aiming to… yunno?”

“Get myself fucked in front of the club?” supposed Sekibanki. “Or my ass whipped sore? The answer’s hell no, Kage.”

“So. Why?”

Motion on the shore belayed the redhead’s sketching and, no question – sketchy, reply. Wakasagihime had beached on the bank where she lay on her back, with the human wading in pursuit, soon to collapse on all-fours over the plump mermaid. His re-erected manhood dangled from his groin like a fishing lure. The lusty princess seized it in a pale hand and, to its wielder’s obvious trepidation, aimed it at a slit in the thickest section of her tail wherein, it was a simple guess, mermaids traditionally had sex.

Kagerou didn’t look to witness the fit. The half-nude, mussed rokurokubi in her lap was another lure, this one after her own heart. In some respects, it was a fantasy come true; Sekibanki was letting her stick her fingers whenever she dared and hardly complained of it at all. In others, Kagerou still wished she’d been a male – with a prick – so she might screw her lithe, sexy friend like she begged to be screwed. Until she begged not to, anymore.

Sekibanki twinged in her arms. “Nng. Kage?”

“Ye—Yes?”

“Naaails.”

“Oh. Um. Sorry, lost my… tracks.” Kagerou eased the bent of her long-nailed fingers. “So, um… not to prod you, but—”

“You are. Treats,” gave up Sekibanki. “That’s, nhh, a half of it. I was ahead on the books, and there are things you’ll not find outside of town, and I wanted you to have some. Not much stuff to else burn the bloody coin on…”

“Mmhm. And the other half?”

“… I’d got,” said the rokurokubi, feebly swaying her hips, “this damned idea into his head, OK? That I’d talk the two of you, hnn, you and Waka, into giving him a double tit-fuck. In jest, at first. Then, I lost a wager—”

“Think I get it, way that went. And, you’d be fine with that, too? With me and Waka…?”

“I’d watch. That enough, innit? Hng.”

Kagerou blanked on replies. So, she chased home the more familiar thread of conversation. “… Hey, ‘Banki?”

Sekibanki’s belly tensed. “Yeaaah?”

“In that case—” Kagerou began. “In that, um, case, do you want to give his bits a tongue-bath together? Once the princess’s had her turn? O—Or actually,” she loped on, “why do we not cart Waka back to my place? Get the lot of us onto a real bed, yunno? Three of us and him. Wouldn’t be just you and me, like that. Um. And him.”

The junior Grassroot’s stare wasn’t resigned, but definitely had the paperwork handy. “… You want to tongue me that much, huh.”

Kagerou blushed. Nonsensical though it was after everything they’d done and were doing, there it was nonetheless. That foolish wolf honesty.

Sekibanki didn’t dwell on it. The answer was as sharp as a bowstring’s twang.

“No dice.”

Kagerou’s wolf-ears wilted on her head.

Sekibanki shook hers. “He’s got to report in for work; if not, they’ll let slip the hounds. Humans, Kage. They care for their own.”

“… Aw.”

“It’ll have to be my place, dumbass,” she hurried on to add. “Clear out of here now, hunker down until dark, trundle Waka to town, and we can overnight at mine. Until then, he’s on the clock.”

That perked the wolf-woman’s ears back up. “Oh.”

“Those drinks need emptying, too.”

“Mmhm. Right.”

“We’re doing it, then?” Sekibanki wanted to settle.

Kagerou gave a nod. “Yes. Of course. Waka’ll be happy.”

“The lengths we go for her fish highness,” Sekibanki said acrimoniously. “… Oh, and Kage? One provision.”

“What’ll it be?”

Something in her friend’s glare warmed Kagerou up to the fluff of her ears. It had the suggestive nuance of a fireball.

“If,” conditioned the redhead Grassroot, “If I catch you nicking one more piece of my wardrobe… I’ll make you wear it, and then I’ll make him fuck you while you’re wearing it. Geddit?”

Kagerou smiled… even if she didn’t really “geddit.” Sekibanki’s notions of loyalty were as far beyond the wolf-woman as running a tea-house on her lonesome was beyond Kagerou.

This was why, however, they were friends. This was the principle beneath which they could meet for alcohol and snacks precluding bloody rage. Tolerance without judgement, quirks without fear, barbs without… well, barbs. The core tenets which bound the weaklings of Gensokyo into one.

A network of roots, out of sight, intertwined.

And though their codex may indeed have been simplicity itself… it meant nowise that the Grassroots themselves had to be anywhere as.