“Getting horny?” Aingeal asked me, her voice sounding melodic.“You were playing with my nipples,” I lied.Aingeal giggled. “Plus we look hot lying there. We could lick ourselves.” Her soul shivered in our shared vessel. “Well, you could lick us. I’m just along for the ride.”I smiled and moved closer. I leaned my wicker muzzle down and lapped my leafy tongue across her pussy, gathering her honey musk. It was so naughty. Another difference between the feyhound vessel and others is that I had my sense of taste. I could feel and see and hear in my vessels, but never taste.And she tasted good.Ooh, that’s wicked, she moaned. I felt that. Distantly. Ooh, lick me again.My tongue fluttered out, drawing up her pussy to her taint. Her honey tasted so good. I inhaled, also able to smell in this form, and shivered. Another aroma, a fresh delight, filled my nose mixing with her honey. My own horny flesh.I nuzzled at my own pussy, licking through my own curls. I shivered, distantly feeling the leafy. "You two are usually together when you're up to no good." Steve?" I sheepishly replied. "He went to the store and—" And you thought you were here all by yourself," she said, finishing my sentence and adding, "obviously."I slowly lowered the magazine across my thighs, my arms shaking enough to rattle the pages. The foldout dangled toward the floor. She approached me and put her hands on the armrest of the chair. Her weight pushed the chair level and placed me closer to her beautiful softball-sized breasts squeezed between her arms.I was mesmerized as I gazed into the inviting cleavage, perfectly framed by her terrycloth halter. My focus floated to a few stray strands of her long brown hair caught under one of the white spaghetti straps over her shoulder. They pulled tight as she moved her head. Two strands of hair pulling on her head, can she feel that? My mind drifted to nothing in particular.She looked down at the magazine in my lap. "So watcha got there?"She picked it up and.
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