Faylira's fingers couldn't stop exploring her wet, aching folds. The sounds of her fingers sinking in, slick and needy—schlrrrp... schlick... schlick...—echoed through the air, filling the silence with their forbidden rhythm. Her body trembled with every inch she sank deeper, and with each stroke, the heat inside her grew unbearable, a burning desire that screamed to be released. Her green eyes began to shift, slowly deepening to a shade of pink, a reflection of the fire raging in her core. Her tails and ears twitched involuntarily with each motion.
Nngh… damn it… why does it sound so wet? she muttered, her thighs twitching as she felt the mess she'd created, the sound alone driving her wild with pleasure. It's not fair… Frustration mixed with her own burning need, as she wondered, Why does it always sound so lewd when I think about him? Her mind raced, the question repeating itself, Would he like that sound?
