Cosmic Cabaret

by SFR Shooting Stars

  "Let you go? No," he told her. "But we can fuck in a different position this time."

  Holding onto her, he rolled to his back, taking her with him. With a gasp of shock and pleasure, Roxie found herself astride him. She pushed herself up, her hands on his chest, and moved to lift off of his cock. But his hands closed on her bare ass, squeezing the firm globes, and his blunt claws dug into her skin. The slight sting made her pussy contract again, and he growled his pleasure, his cock growing bigger and harder again.

  "Yes-ss," he said. "Ride the little Tyger. I need more."

  If ever there was a command more guaranteed to make a Tygress want to tease and torment, this was it. Roxie tossed her hair back and gave him a sultry look, stroking the silky, furred plain of his chest and squeezing his shaft again with her inner walls. "Say please."

  He snarled, and this time her body contracted with sheer excitement, her breath freezing in her throat as he knifed slowly to a sitting position under her. His glittering gaze held hers until she was still, then traveled down over her face, her throat, to her bare breasts.

  Tipping his head to one side, he put out his tongue—longer, rougher in shift—and licked her erect nipple. Then he closed his teeth around the tip and carefully bit her. Every nerve in Roxie's body zinged, and she let out a choked cry as the sting shot straight down through her to where she was impaled on his cock.

  He licked her again, and squeezed her ass, his claws digging in again. "Ride," he commanded, and licked her other nipple.

  In the implacable grasp of a Tyger male in shift, Roxie obeyed. And somehow the nip of pain enhanced the pleasure, sending her flying even higher this time.

  He thrust up hard inside her and let out another roar of completion, then fell back on the carpet, breathing hard, eyes closed to slits, nostrils flared, a steady purr rumbling from his chest.

  Her body and mind a haze of repletion, Roxie wanted to collapse on top of him and nuzzle him in thanks, wallowing in his scent and heat like tyger-nip. But then she remembered where they were, and the fact that she didn't really know who he was. She lifted off of him instead, his cock sliding out of her along with a hot flood of his seed.

  "Where're you going?" he complained.

  She looked down at him, a sprawled length of beautiful, sated male. Even relaxed, his cock was big, lying canted over his groin at an angle, glistening with their combined wetness. Her pussy gave a little squeeze of longing for him.

  "To wash," she said, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

  He chuckled lazily. "Tyger kittens, so fastidious."

  "Tyger males, so full of themselves," she shot back, and rose with as much grace as she could, her thighs twinging from their pummeling.

  He smirked, his gaze taking her in from head to bare toes, and wet thighs. "Seems you're the one full of me."

  With a huff of annoyance, she turned and stalked away, with as much dignity as a naked female could who's just been royally fucked—twice. She could feel his hot gaze on her bare body with every step.

  Four

  "Wait," the Tyger called after her. "What's your name?"

  She froze in mid-step. Her name? She couldn't give him her real name. Bryght was a small planet, and he might well remember the cub reporter who ran afoul of their planet's premier celebrity. On the other hand, her last name was a common one on Bryght. The Fellura clan was huge, and growing.

  "Rouge," she said, tossing her hair again, and giving him a look over her shoulder. "You can call me Rouge... Charlie." Which she doubted was his real name, either. No one was named Charlie anymore. It was a first century name if she'd ever heard one.

  He stared at her, his face unreadable. "Why do you call me that?"

  She shrugged. "Your assistants told me. First names are fine, I don't need to know more."

  And neither did he. She'd been with other males a few times since she joined the ranks of Quantum employees, but never a Tyger like him. And she likely never would again, so she meant to enjoy this interlude for what it was worth.

  Then both of them would walk away, sexually sated, likely never to see each other again. Until and unless she found a way to go home to Bryght again, her notoriety faded, if not forgotten.

  He relaxed visibly, then grinned as he held up her panties, the filmy red lace hooked on one claw.

  "All right, Rouge. I've nothing against a female calling herself after her panty color." He lifted the panties to his face and inhaled, then gave her a wicked look from under his lashes, purring loudly. "As long as you continue to give me access to what was in them. Don't go far, I'll want you again soon."

  Her face burning, torn between the urge to giggle and snarl, Roxie turned and hurried away. Tygress, the man was as annoying as he was sexy. His words sent her body, and her mind, clenching with renewed anticipation.

  As long as she remembered it would last only until his moons waned, she'd come out of this with her body sated, and her heart whole.

  Just because he was a gorgeous, virile male who fucked like a legend come to life and had the teasing smile of a naughty angel, who behaved as if he couldn't get enough of her, it was just his mating shift. After it was over, whoever he was, he'd likely shrug and turn away from her.

  And she'd do the same, and quell the niggling familiarity in his rough velvet voice and those eyes, the shape of his head. He was clearly fabulously wealthy, so she'd probably seen him on the news or gossip holovids.

  Didn't mean she knew him, or that he truly wanted to know her, except physically.

  Roxie used the suite's incredibly luxurious lav to wash up. The fitments here were of creamy cerametal and platinum-toned metal, with holomirrors that sprang up at a murmur, and a shower dry big enough for four adults. It smelled of expensive soaps and lotions and the damp foliage in the arboretum, which could be reached directly by a second door.

  She washed up, giving her reflection an abashed, but gleeful smile as she finger-combed her tousled hair. She looked... fabulous. Flushed and relaxed, her skin gleaming with health. The red marks on her ass and the redness of her swollen nipples sent remembered pleasure wisping through her. No one had ever been as rough with her--and she hadn't known what she was missing. No wonder Tygresses smiled so dreamily when they talked about mating with a tyger in shift.

  A pair of lii silk robes hung near the showerdry, one cream, one black. Roxie donned the cream robe, enjoying the cool slip of the fabric over her warm skin. Fastening it at her waist, she padded barefoot through the back door, out into the arboretum.

  It was lovely. Quantum had a public arboretum the size of a small park at her center, but it was always full of beings.

  Here, the air was quiet, with a heavy, expectant hush among the lovely plants, swaying gently in an unseen breeze. Small birds twittered quietly in the background, and water splashed into a pool from a faux-stone fountain.

  It was quiet, that is, until a lithe, furred shape flashed by Roxie and leapt into the pool with mighty splash, sending water flying in sheets. Roxie shrieked as she was drenched from head to toe. Swiping her wet hair from her face, she glowered at Charlie, who now lounged in the center of the pool, looking smug as only a Tyger can.

  "You got me all wet," she hissed, flapping her hands at the robe, now clinging to her in transparent folds. "You alley-bred feline!"

  "Huh," he grunted. "Guess you'd better pay me back, tyger-pussy."

  "Oh, I'll pay you back," she promised, curling her lip at him as she stripped off the robe. Her heart leaping with mischief and excitement, she reached up and unfastened the clip that held her hair up, the heavy mass tumbling down her back. Then she dashed into the pool and leapt on him, bearing him under the water.

  It was warm, and smelled of flowers and Tyger. And he was hot, and wet, and already hard again. And all of this was hers...for now.

  He kicked off from the shallow bottom and bore her up with him, both of them sleek with water, both half-snarling, half-laughing. Then he pulled her tight against him and thrust into her,
and licked her with that rough, sandpaper and velvet tongue.

  Roxie wrapped her legs around him and rode him like an acrobat, their bodies smacking together with wet, frantic abandon until she screamed with pleasure and he let out an answering roar that echoed through the quiet garden, stiffening in her arms as he came.

  Then he sank back in the water, only his face emerged, his hair floating around his head. So handsome her heart swelled, and she had to claw her thoughts back from where they wanted to go...to a time when his mating frenzy was over, and he still wanted her with him. She might not know his name, but she felt as if she was beginning to know him. He was bossy, mischievous and gorgeous.

  "I guess that will teach you to get me wet," she told him, stroking him under the water.

  Without opening his eyes, he gave a growl of laughter. "Yes, you certainly taught me a lesson, Rouge. Except I like making certain parts of you wet. I like it very much."

  Blushing hotly, despite the intimacy of their position, Roxie pulled off of him. He made everything sound so filthy...and what was worse, she loved it.

  His hand touched her leg and he stroked her as she floated beside him. "What's your last name, pretty Rouge?"

  "Fellura," she said cautiously.

  "Ah. I know a few Felluras." His tone was still casual, relaxed.

  "What's yours?" she asked, then bit her lip, almost wishing she hadn't asked. "Never mind, you don't--"

  "Crawfur," he said, giving her a look that revealed a touch of the same wariness she felt.

  She nodded, and her lips curved up in a smile of relief. She truly didn't know him, or even of him. "Nice to meet you, Charlie Crawfur. I don't think I know your people."

  "No?"

  "Nope." He might be a celebrity, but he wasn't that big of one. Here and now, he was just a Tyger.

  "This is only my second time," she told him. "Being a shift mate."

  He gave her a look of pure amusement. "Rouge... I could tell."

  "Wait, what? How did you know?" She flushed, eyeing him uncertainly. "Am I doing something wrong?"

  He hesitated, and then shrugged. "Well. There is one thing."

  She moved toward him, her hands resting on his shoulders. "What?" She'd do it, if it was within reason, that is. Instincts old as Tyger time led her to wish to please him, placate him.

  He slid his arms around her, pulling her tight against him, and began walking them both toward the lip of the pool. "You haven't let me lick your pussy yet. You should always offer to let me—I mean a shift mate—lick your pussy."

  "Really?" she mewled. Her pussy squeezed with renewed excitement, and she was suddenly breathless. That rough, knowing tongue of his on her clit? Oh, Tygress, yes-sss.

  "Really," he assured her, his voice a deep rasp of intent. "Every hour or so would be about right. Now, I'll show you how it's done by a Tyger in shift."

  He set her on the smooth lip of the pool, her hips and bottom just above water, and pushed her thighs open. He surveyed her, then pushed them farther apart. "Now, invite me. Say, 'Charlie, would you like to lick my sweet little puss until I cream in your mouth?"

  Since he looked into her eyes as he spoke, and licked his lips, Roxie was torn between suffocating excitement and the urge to giggle like a tyger teen. The laughter won. "I can't say that," she managed, then giggled some more as he dropped to his knees in the water and nuzzled her, tickling her.

  He inhaled her scent and growled theatrically, flaring his feline nostrils. "Are you sure, tyger pussy?"

  She moaned, and reached for him, cupping the side of his face. "You could... do it anyway, if you like."

  He sighed theatrically. "Sorry, no. Not without an invitation."

  "You are a varmint," she told him, her skin burning with heat as she blushed again.

  "I know," he said, giving her a dark, lustful look. "I'm a very bad Tyger. And I can do things with my tongue that you won't believe, my Rouge. Now ask, before I smack your pretty ass."

  "Charlie, would you lick my pussy?" she asked in a rush. "Please?"

  "Until you cream in my mouth."

  "Un-until I cream in your mouth. Oh! Oh, Charlie. Oh, Tygress." Then she couldn't talk at all, because she had a Tyger between her legs, using his long, rough, exceptionally talented tongue in ways that he was absolutely correct, she could not believe.

  After he'd tasted his fill, he flipped her over and had her there, bent over the lip of the pool like a willing sacrifice while he took her from behind, a long, slow plundering that made her arch up and back in his arms, her head back on his broad shoulder, his hand cupping her throat as he growled his pleasure into her ear, his other hand cupping her where they were joined. When he came, he sank his fangs gently into the side of her throat, growling.

  Roxie's legs would not hold her up any longer. Exhausted and trembling, she let her lover gather her up in his arms, and bear her out of the pool. He dried her off with a huge, soft towel, and then carried her to a chaise lounge cloistered in the shrubbery and laid her down, lying beside her, his heavy arm over her breasts.

  "Rest," he purred. "Then I'll have you again."

  She wasn't sure she'd survive the pleasure.

  Five

  When Chaz woke, he stretched luxuriously, and then reached down to give his cock a soothing stroke. The initial frenzy had abated, which likely meant his moons were passing their peak. But the female in his arms was lovely, lithe and curvy, her skin silky under his hands. And he wanted her again.

  He woke her by depositing her carefully on her back in the bed, and then using his tongue on her nipples, sweet little catnip morsels, in the way she'd shown she liked.

  "Charlie," she murmured, arching into his caress. "Mm-mm, I love your tongue."

  He loved her nipples, and her pussy, her skin—even the shape of her soft, full lips when she made that little moue of want and need. He especially loved her honest reactions to everything he did. She could no more hide her shy pleasure or her wriggles of delight than she could fly.

  When she was squirming under him, whimpering, her hands tight in his hair, he moved between her thighs and forged into her hot, slick, secret center. Sensation crackled down his spine and arrowed straight through his groin into his cock, his scrotum tightening up as his need grew.

  He snarled, hooking one of her legs over his arm so he could take her deeper.

  He gazed into her pretty eyes, now sheer gold with need, and snarled, his hands tightening on her ass. How could he feel at once cradled in bliss and frantic to have more?

  "Oh, yes, there," she moaned, clutching at him. "Charlie...oh, that."

  He did that again and then again, harder and faster, until she came, squeezing him like a fist. Ecstasy exploded through him, pulsing out into her in flashes of heaven.

  Then he collapsed on her and snuggled into her curves like the very best pillow.

  He patted her hip. "You can stop growling, I'll move if you want me to."

  "That's... my stomach growling," she said, and snickered, quivering under him in a way he liked. But it made him realize he was hungry too.

  Chaz lifted himself off her. "Right. We need to feed. There's food here somewhere."

  He prowled into the main room and found the food hover-cart that had been brought it. Guiding it back to the bedroom, he opened up the hatches and foraged, sniffing various savory scents. "There's veg, a roast fowl, a pasta dish—"

  "Oooh, pasta." She crawled over to kneel beside him, reaching for the covered dish. "I love pasta."

  He handed it over. So did he, normally. Just now, in his shift, it sounded bland and unappetizing. He wanted meat.

  They dined there in bed, on the finest of viands, and drank Pangaean wine so light and delicate it tickled across his tongue.

  "I need another robe," she told him, licking butter from her fork. Her full, kiss-stung lips glistened with it. "I can't just wear my undies."

  "You could just wear nothing," he drawled, tearing off another hunk of roast fowl and offering it
to her.

  She took a small piece and popped it into her mouth, blushing again, to his delight. "Not all the time. Only when we're...you know."

  "No, I don't know," he said, raising his brows. "Whatever do you mean, Rouge?"

  She rolled her eyes at him, and he stole a fondle of her nearest breast, deliciously bare and full. "I'll buy you more spider lace," he offered generously. It was the perfect tease, nearly transparent, the lace emphasizing the skin beneath it.

  "Mine are special," she said, and took another drink of wine.

  "Really, why? Did a lover give them to you?" Because if so, he would find the male and eviscerate him.

  Her eyes widened, and he realized that he had snapped the sturdy fowl bone in his teeth. He was also growling. Right, he needed to keep a lid on his shift instincts.

  "No," she said, shaking her head so hard a lock of her long hair fell over her shoulder, curving around her nipple. "My granny Fellura."

  Chaz forced himself to relax. He took a large bite of succulent meat. "Tell me."

  She stirred her pasta, rolling the plump, buttery strands around her fork. "She told me they would give me the courage to be brave and go after what I truly want," she said, smiling to herself.

  "Your gran must be something," he said. Giving her granddaughter naughty underwear, guaranteed to seduce.

  "Mowra Fellura is definitely something," she agreed, smiling back at him as she stroked his furred skin.

  "Wait, you're one of Mowra's grand-kittens?" he asked. "I've met her."

  "You have?"

  "Yes, and now I see the resemblance. She was a beauty in her day, according to the holovids—and my grandfather."

  "You think I look like her?" she asked, charmed.

  "I do. So, did the panties give you courage?"

  Roxie hunched her shoulders uncomfortably. "The first time? No. I... went after the guy, but—well, let's just say it didn't work out—at all."

  "Want me to find him and claw his face for you?"

  She laughed, her lovely eyes bright as they met his. "No. It was just a stupid, teen kitten dream. Since then I've grown older and wiser. And braver. I'm here with you, aren't I?"