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Breeder Training (Lay the Very Best - Chapter 428)
🕑 Added 2025-10-03 22:33:54 +0000 UTCTheir little Larvesta needed them, so Fenny and Scoria had gotten on the first train to Spikemuth. Scoria had refused to fly her there, just in case Fenny was pregnant.
Fenny didn't think she was. Fenny had studied bonds long enough to know that she'd feel the moment she was bred. Not that she was worried, it was taking a bit; it'd happen eventually. They both really wanted it, and until then, they were enjoying a very whirlwind romance.
The train trip was a nice chance to relax, and maybe that's the real reason Scoria didn't want to fly. They'd fucked on pretty much every surface back home, several times, and getting out to stretch their muscles and get some sun was actually a welcome change. Scoria had insisted they order a little tea service when the trolley rolled by, and now the small table between their seats was crowded with a silver pot, three cups, and a plate piled with scones. The train's steady hum made the cups clink together, the clatter of the rails underscoring their mischief. Fenny tried to keep things tidy, spooning jam with precision, but Scoria leaned across the table with a grin, dabbing cream onto Fenny's lip with a finger and kissing it away before she could scold. They fed each other bites that grew more playful than polite, deliberately smearing jam over each other's lips so they had to be licked off.
Sweet sticky intimacy, they'd had plenty of it lately, and Fenny wasn't sick of it yet.
"Hold still," Scoria murmured, tilting her head as her tongue slipped out. Fenny knew it well, but it still made her heart race with how long it was, just one more perk of having a wonderful, cuddly moth wife. Scoria made sure to let the wet muscle linger as she lapped up the cream, and when she leaned in to kiss after the heat flowing along that outrageous tongue drew a blush to Fenny's face.
"I said hold still." Scoria admonished as she pulled back. "You're squirming."
"I was trying," Fenny replied primly, "You always make it difficult."
"I like to think I make some things very easy," Scoria said, her fingers threaded through Fenny's hair, leaving little trails of warmth along her scalp. Her lips brushed close, her words buzzing on Fenny's skin. "You're beautiful when you squirm for me. I can't wait to put another child in your pretty belly."
"We're going to see the child we have," Fenny whispered. "You can wait."
"Yes," Scoria said, her lips brushing the curve of her jaw. "I could wait."
The kiss sent a ribbon of heat flowing through Fenny's skin and curling down her throat. She swallowed hard. "Scoria, the train-"
"-is moving," Scoria growled. "We won't have to get off for a while."
Her palm slipped down, settling over Fenny's stomach. She circled it slowly, popping shirt buttons so she could slide her hand in to brush over skin. "You should be pregnant by now," she murmured. "It's so unfair. We're clearly doing something wrong."
Fenny choked on a laugh. "We've tried everything. You've been ludicrously diligent."
Scoria's grin was wicked. "We should publish our results."
Fenny squeezed Scoria's arm. "You know I can't do any work when you're around."
Scoria swung herself round the table and into Fenny's lap, wings fluttering to cool the small four-person train cabin with a light breeze. The seat below Fenny groaned from the weight.
"Scoria!" Fenny gasped. "Think of the people who have to watch!"
"Like that'll stop me," Scoria replied, rocking her hips against Fenny. "I like it when people watch. We put on a great show. They'll love it."
The kiss that followed devoured every protest. Heat poured from Scoria's lips into Fenny's mouth, down her throat, and into her chest. Her Flame Body loved the fire, and the train's rattling rhythm over steel rails synced with her pulse, making her feel like she was speeding along with it. Her hands found Scoria's back, pressing into the base of her wings.
"We've got time for another attempt," Scoria said with a pleased, low grumble as she leaned in harder.
"I don't think I'm going to conceive on a train," Fenny said with a smile.
"Are you sure, or is there a chance?"
"An impossibly low chance," Fenny said, undoing her shirt buttons because she knew Scoria too well.
"I like those odds," Scoria said and kissed her again.
It became a blur of warmth. Scoria buried her under a flurry of kisses, each smooch a little brand of affection on her skin. Fenny's nerves sang under her touch, the heat building in their train cabin until her skin prickled with sweat. The seat creaked in protest below her, and the window fogged with their hot breath.
"You'll be the death of me," Fenny whispered.
"Nonsense, I'm going to put life in you," Scoria answered, teeth grazing her jaw.
Scoria shifted suddenly, grinning, and slapped her heavy cock down on Fenny's chest. She pushed it between her breasts before Fenny could even say a thing, rutting into the soft flesh. Well, it was out now, and she wasn't going to let her wife go needy. Fenny guided Scoria's hands to cup her breasts and press them tight around her dick, helping her wife thrust through the soft, squeezing flesh. To steady herself, Fenny grabbed at the thick white fur around Scoria's shoulders, delighting in the warm softness beneath her palms as she rocked her wife back and forth. Scoria had a deep purring buzz in her throat, thrilled by the shameless, intimate play.
"I think I know why I'm not pregnant." Fenny groaned as Scoria ploughed her cleavage. "You're using the wrong bit of me."
"Feels right to me," Scoria said, sharp blue eyes glaming. "I'll try out all your other holes, if you insist."
That shameless comment got a squeak.
They both froze and turned to look at the Squeaker, who had been sitting there the whole time, frozen stiff with her hands folded tightly in her lap, enraptured by every heated moment between the two lovers.
She was a pretty thing, her body wrapped in fluffy white fleece, with long soft white hair tumoring over her shoulders and big golden eyes staring at them in shock. A sheen of sweat glistened on her from the heavy heat in the carriage, making her hair cling to her body in wet curls. Curvy, short, and a lovely mix of huggable and fuckable, in Fenny's opinion, and she usually had an excellent eye for the ladies.
"Sorry!" the Squeaker babbled, voice high and panicked. "I didn't want you to stop! I just... it was too much; it's so hot in here, I couldn't help it! You should keep going, you should try really hard, I mean, I'm so excited for you to have a kid and ... and ... oh stars, I'm saying too much!"
Her tail bristled, ears flat with mortification.
Scoria blinked once, then smiled extra broadly, her wings shimmering with a heat haze.
Fenny covered her face with both hands. "Oh no…"
The fluffy stranger squeaked again, looking like she might bolt, until Scoria leaned sideways, extended a wing, and folded it around the woman in the carriage with them. It drew her off her seat and towards them, practically launching her between them.
"Stay," Scoria said, padding fingers along the hyperventilating woman's throat. "We've had a busy week and we'd love a toy to play with."
The lady made a strangled sound, her cheeks blazing with a blush, but she nodded madly as they both stared down at her.
Fenny peeked between her fingers, "Scoria!"
"What?" Scoria grinned mischievously. "We have to try everything, Fenny. What if this soft, plush lady is the key to putting a baby in that belly of yours?"
The stranger blinked at them, wide-eyed. "I do have three kids? Does that help?"
Scoria's wings curved around both of them, the little carriage becoming a fire-lit cocoon as the light glowed off her wings. "See?" she purred. "She's practically an expert."
The fluffy girl squeaked again, then slowly smiled. "Well," she said, "I do have some ideas."
"If you can get Scoria to do them without teasing us both, you really are an expert," Fenny said, brushing her fingers through the new lady's fluffy coat. Wooloo fur? It was lovely and soft, she really did love a fluffy lady. "Go on then, let's hear these ideas."
The woman's golden eyes darted between them, her voice dropping to a hushed, trembling thrill. "Well… I make lots of furry things that people love buying."
"Furry things?" Scoria asked, eyes narrowing with hungry amusement.
"Um ... uh ... handcuffs, straps, you know, for comfort," she blurted, cheeks glowing hotter.
Scoria's grin spread wicked and slow. "Oh, you are a treat. I think Fenny needs all the comfort you can summon right now."
"Can you show me that tongue some too?" She said hopefully. "While I fit her."
"I'll make it impossible for you to concentrate," Scoria smirked. "I promise you."
Fenny brushed her red hair back from her flushed face and smiled. "She always keeps her promises," she murmured, already resigning herself to being trussed up. "Go on then, make me comfortable."
To the fluffy lady's credit, once she'd managed to stop shaking from orgasmic bliss long enough to fit them properly, they really were some comfortable straps.
Comments
Irish Not Sane
Poor Brandy but her mom’s really are so much fun
