The Taste of Morning

The first thing Cassia ed was the warmth. Not the familiar weight of her blanket, but something slicker, wetter, spilling across her lips, the bridge of her nose, pooling in the hollow of her closed eyes.

Then came the scent. Sharp. Musky. Oddly Familiar? Her brain supplied before her conscious mind could catch up. Cassia’s eyes flew open to a blur of white and pink directly above her.

Mira’s futa cock was still twitching, spent, the last pearly beads of her release dripping onto Cassia’s parted lips.

“Morning, Princess,” Mira purred, her voice a breathless giggle. “Thought I’d give you a wake-up call.”

Cassia choked, sputtering against the warm seed coating her tongue. She shoved Mira’s hips aside and sat up, wiping her palm across her eyes, her cheeks, her mouth.

“You-” Cassia’s voice cracked, raw with drowsiness and outrage. “You came on my face!”

Mira was already halfway out the door, pulling a loose tunic over her head. She glanced back over one shoulder, green eyes sparkling with mirth.

“You looked so peaceful,” she said, mock-earnest. “And you were about to be late for class.” She pressed a theatrical hand to her chest. “What was a futa to do?”

Cassia grabbed the nearest thing, a book from her nightstand, and hurled it. Mira ducked, laughing as it struck the doorframe with a satisfying thump.

“Enjoy your day, Princess!” Mira blew a kiss, exiting. “Think of my cock every time you lick your lips today. That taste really lingers, doesn’t it? A little reminder of who you truly are.”

She was gone before Cassia could throw something else, the door swinging shut on the sound of her delighted, receding giggles.

Cassia sat there, trembling, half from fury, half from something else. Something slow and molten pooling low in her belly. She wiped her face again with the corner of her sheet, scrubbing until her skin felt raw. But the smell remained. Faint, yes, but unmistakable. That salty musk that clung to the back of her throat, that seemed to curl into her nostrils with every breath.

Her pussy clenched, empty and wet. Her Unus cock stirred from its slumber against her thigh.

No. Cassia thought, hard. My will. My body. My choice.

But her hips rolled anyway, a small, involuntary grind. She could feel the latent beta urges in her whispering that submission tasted sweeter than pride.

Cassia slammed her pillow into her face and screamed. “Fuck!”

Cassia **** her legs to carry her to the small washbasin in the corner. She splashed cold water on her face, rinsing her mouth out before wiping her lips against a rough cloth until they tingled. She stood there with her palms gripping the edge of the basin, breathing through her teeth until she calmed.

The arousal didn’t fade. It instead settled into a low, agreeable thrum. Manageable. Ignorable. But there.

“Ugh, not the ideal start to the day.” Cassia sighed.

She dressed methodically, her tunic, her sandals, her bag. She tied her long blonde hair back with a leather cord before checking her reflection with a small, polished brass mirror.

Good enough… she shrugged, feeling slightly more put together.