“Wow.” Mike inspected the outer cover, but there were no words on the book. As he flipped through the pages, it became evident that the artist had had a one-track mind—werewolves fucking humans, werewolves fucking each other, and even a werewolf fucking a unicorn. This last one made Mike laugh. The unicorn had buried its horn into a tree and was backing its ass onto the cock of the howling wolf behind it.
“Werewolf porn. This shit is funny.” Lowering the book, he saw that Tink’s eyes had gone from innocent to predatory. Her tail twitched back and forth, and one of her hands was under her skirt, her fingers doing lazy circles beneath the thin fabric of her dress. He dropped the book, the pages flipping open to an image of a peasant with her arms tied behind her back getting spit-roasted by a pair of werewolves.
“Husband hasn’t made enough time for Tink,” she growled, her free hand squeezing her breast through her dress. All four of her nipples stood out now, and her breath came in fast, rasping bursts. Mike was suddenly aware of the crackling of the fire, the air rich with the smell of old books and leather. The entire universe consisted of only this room, this quiet place where he and Tink were the only living beings in all of existence.
“Don’t you want to get your goggles back?” Mike asked, his eyes on Tink’s shapely thighs. Her skirt had ridden up just enough that he could almost see where her legs met, blocked only by her wrist. His cock was suddenly rigid, pressed tightly against the fabric of his pants.
“Get goggles later. Fuck husband now.” Tink licked her lips, pulling up her skirt for Mike to see what she was doing. She’d pulled back her labia, her wet opening bared to him. Mike could just make out the hard lump on the upper wall of her vagina when she spread herself open, the first of two clitorises. She pulled her skirt back down, her palm grinding into her pelvis. Tink let out a sound that was half moan, half growl.
Mike unzipped his pants, his cock springing to attention. The heat of the fire felt good along his shaft, and he spit into his hand, rubbing his dick gently.
“Husband get nice and hard for Tink,” the goblin commanded. Both hands moved now beneath her skirt, occasionally sliding down her thighs and leaving long, wet streaks. “Husband keep doing that. Tink likes to watch.”
“You like seeing this?” Mike asked her, stroking himself casually. His swollen cock was large, nearly eight inches in length. Though he was endowed with such a huge member, it had gone unused for most of his life, an artifact of a terrible childhood. Now, with nymph magic surging through his blood, getting hard was easy. Mike got on his knees in front of Tink, tugging back on the skin of his dick, his glans revealing itself. “Are you thinking about what it’ll feel like inside of you?”
Tink nodded, her tail twitching sporadically. Mike snatched it up, inspiration striking him. Tink’s tail was long and thin, with a paintbrush patch of hair on the end. Using the tip of her tail, he stroked himself with his left hand and dragged the soft brown fur across the head of his penis.
“Ah,” he sighed, a shiver traveling along his shaft when his cock flexed itself, rising up to meet the new sensation. Tink reacted as well, gasping when the tiny hairs of her tail were stimulated.
“Husband do more to tail,” Tink commanded, lifting her skirt. She shifted her legs, revealing her tight green labia. One finger teased the opening.
“I can do that.” He soon discovered that the end of Tink’s tail was quite sensitive. He painted imaginary shapes along the head of his cock, the sensation reminiscent of an old girlfriend who had attempted to fix his issues with some light feather play. Kneeling in front of the goblin, he dragged the end of her tail down his shaft, tickling the skin of his balls.
“Tink like seeing that,” she told him, shoving two fingers inside herself. The way she was hooking them, he could tell she was playing with the hard lumps inside. Tink was letting out quick bursts of air, her fingers pausing in between, the pleasure clearly too much for her to bear.
“I’m going to fill you up, Tink.” Mike squeezed his cock, trapping her tail between his hand and his shaft. “You’re going to be so full. Have you ever been so full before?” His hand was moving up and down, the tip of Tink’s tail brushing against his frenulum. He shivered, eyes rolling upward at the delicious sensation of her soft hair. His hands guided themselves, a cool energy inside his body controlling them. He immediately pictured Naia, that piece of her soul that was stitched to his. Was that where his confidence came from?
“Tink use hammer once to get full.” Tink shifted, adding a third digit, squeezing out some more of her fluids. “Sit on floor and rock on metal part. Come six times.”
“Fuuuuuck,” Mike groaned, the image of Tink masturbating with a hammer suddenly burned into his head. He could picture her, horny little monster that she was, desperate to penetrate herself with anything from her workshop.
“Took Tink long time,” she cooed at him, watching his face. “Tink work it in slow, push back against wall.”
“It must have been tight.” A large amount of precum was oozing from Mike’s dick, soaking the thin hairs of Tink’s tail.
Tink nodded, letting out a loud sigh. “Not as tight as husband.”
Mike let go of Tink’s tail, grabbing her by the thighs and sliding her toward him. He held her hand in place, his own fingers teasing her labia while hers stirred the pot. He pulled Tink’s dress over her head, revealing her small breasts. Large dark-green areolae circled her double nipples. She now sat between his legs, her thighs
