Play with your cock and your tits until MalO sends her next picture.

"MalO..."

But she's gone. Only the knowledge that your meeting draws ever closer helps you deal with the emotions welling up inside you - and you realize you can't wait for it to finally happen. You need to find something to pass the time until MalO sends you her next picture. With the first step away from the window and the bounce and jiggle and bob that comes with it, it becomes clear to you: You had your amazingly curvy, furry body for not even a full day. Time to explore it some more.

Jumping into the bed, you revel in the way your body stays in motion for a lot longer than you are used to, and your massive schlong ends up settled on your stomach and lodged between your boobs. Grinning, you let your hands trail over your body, raising one leg to caress your voluminous thigh while the other squeezes your cock, feeling it throb and swell, inching through your cleavage and towards your clavicle.

Biting your lower lip, you keep feeling yourself up, feeling your soft fur rustle under your hands, the sensitive flesh beneath yielding to your caress, and soon, your nipples are once again erect and throbbing while your turgid rod reaches full hardness. But you are in no hurry, instead languidly going about your business of heightening the pleasure running through you. And the body MalO provided you with is uniquely suited for this, your every touch sending tingles through you, leaving you moaning and sighing as your legs kick the sheets.

Your hips begin to thrust, slowly and almost lazily, driving your swollen rod through your soft cleavage, the spongy tip of your cock reaching high enough to brush against your neck at the apex of every thrust, smearing you with pre. The fluids begin to mat your fur, every movement now squelching lewdly, and you bite your lower lip as you bring your hands to your prodigious bust and squeeze them, pushing them tightly around your thick length, moving them in a slow rhythm with your thrusts.

More and more pre squirts from your tip, hot and viscous, running down your body and soaking into the bedsheets, but you don't care. You are simply too absorbed in the sensations, in your tingling bust, your throbbing cock, eyes rolling up in your head with a moan as you flick your thumbs over your erect nipples. And you find you can't stop. You don't want to stop. You want to keep touching yourself forever, delight in this pleasure, this unthinking bliss, your cock spurting pre over the swell of your breasts and your neck every time your lust crests that peak.

You just keep going. Slowly, languidly, unhurriedly - you know there is no rush. You have all day and more than enough stamina to just never, ever stop, and thus orgasm follows orgasm, shuddering gasps herald climax after climax, your head spinning with delirious pleasure, your sense of time evaporated in the fires of lust, and thus you jump in surprise when...

*DING* *bzz-bzz*

It takes a bit for your higher functions to reboot, eyes half-lidded as you pant lustfully, but finally, you manage to pick up your phone and open MalO's app - and the sight of what's in the picture makes your heart jump into your throat, cock straining so hard it almost jumps out between your breasts. The image is taken from an angle above your bed at about head-height, showing you going to town on your body, but you are not alone: MalO is straddling you at the waist, your cock pressing into her netherlips as she rides you like a Sybian, MalO's hands hefting her own tits, her black tongue hanging out of her white skull, which somehow has a faint blush on the cheeks, eyes halflidded as she stares down on you with smoldering lust.

< Ī̦̯̥͚ͨͬ n̯͉ͫ̈́ẹēḑ͚̦̜͎̉ ṯh̗̭́́̂͝i̻ͨ_̈́_s̖͔̣̠̽̀,̵̜ͯ̈́̏͘, John, Ì̶͔̦ͥ͞ n̗e̹͊͆̕e̴̬ͥ͐͐ḍ̪ it̴̝̒ sȯ̗̈̏̋ b̞̿ͣa̖͎̋ͧd.̯̮̜̘͚̂́ I̷̝̟̔̐͒͠ c͎̣a̲̓ͭn͓̭͇̄͞'̘̙̖́̓̐ť̡͇̲͊ w̚ait̯͒ͣ̀.̧͙̥̎ͫ I̳͕̅̉ C̸̠̤͌A̗̻ͧͤN͍͖͎͐͐ͨ͟'̹͛̚Ţ̯̻̭̗ͤ͒̇̓̚͠ WAI͆Ṯ͙͇̭͑ͥ͝͠!̙̥̟́ͬ͠"̴̢̩͖̝̈́̾͛ͤ̓̕ >

And neither can you. Mere pictures are not enough. You need MalO in the flesh. You need her impaled on your cock, riding you just as tirelessly as you pound her, locked in a never-ending cycle of bliss. The desire you feel for the erotic apparition is almost painful - but the well-known, searing sensation is actually painful as it rises in your neck and ears, but only for a moment.

Then, you feel a repeat of yesterday evening, a pleasant tingling all around your neck ears, but the latter do not just become soft and furred. No, they begin to elongate, a distinct tip developing as they move up the sides of your head, twitching and flicking as strands of your hair keep sticking to the developing fur on your ears.

But that's not quite as important as the fact that your moans grow softer, higher, more and more feminine, and with one hand holding your phone so you can stare at the picture of MalO riding you, you let your free hand roam over your body once more. Breasts, cock, hips, stomach, even your swollen balls, it's all so much, too much for one hand, but you need to keep the picture in front of you. You cannot look away.

And you don't want to. You just want to cum and cum and cum, chip away at the hours until MalO's next picture with your climaxes. Which is exactly what you do. But in the end, MalO doesn't send you a picture. Just one line of text.

< I̸ͨt's t̨͖ͫim͖e͢,̙̤ͭ John. Í̻̳̅̌͢t'̼̞̪̅͆ś͝ f̫̫ͩ͛ͭ̇́͟i͙̹n̳̞̙̰͖̉̾aͨl̬̇͞ļ̩̩̩́̂̿ͮͩy̝̎ͦ̕ t̰̱̆́ͦi̢̲̎̾ͩ͐̚m̠̉ͣͯ̑ẹ̸̛̛̫̣̑͆ͭ̚͡!̳̀̔̒̎>