Khajiit Charms

You look up at the sky. The sun is starting to get low. There's still a few hours left of daylight, so it's probably about time to start heading back to civilization. Nothing really interesting in the last day of wandering exploration, but it is what it is. Your legs are starting to get tired as you climb a hill to get your rough bearings back.

When you crest the hill, an interesting site meets your eyes. The lonely building sits in the middle of nowhere. Isolated farms dot the countryside, true, but this farm looks a fair bit different to you. It's nice, for one thing. The average isolated farm was a pitiful shack, held together with hopes and tape (not unlike your personal shack on the waterfront); this was a tidy stone building, well built and with a small, tidy garden to one side. More of a very small manor than a farm. It's something for you to investigate, sure as sure.

Your hand strays to your equipment, your longsword hangs at your waist, while the bow and arrows are in their normal place at your shoulder. No reason to expect trouble, but no reason at all not to be prepared. A careful pace downhill sets the links in your armor (just a set of chain, no greaves or plate today) clinking. Your booted feet trample wild grass down only for it to bounce back again. As you approach, a figure in a green dress steps out of the door and watches you.

She's a Khajiit, cat-person, standing, elegantly contrasting with the rough surroundings much as her home. Her dress is a shimmering green, on top of fur that's a warm, yellowish brown. You get the impression of strength and vigor, ferocity underneath refinement, not unlike the world itself. A comfortable distance away, you stop and notice her eyes, the same color as her dress. She speaks, “The huntress is approached by the stranger. What does the stranger want?”

You introduce yourself as an adventurer, and she responds with the rich accents of her people, “This one is Tsarminia and insists that you join her to share in the spoils of the hunt.”

Thankfully, Khajiit mannerisms are well enough known to you that you're fairly sure that this is an invitation to eat. Honestly, food sounds pretty good. Other than chugging the occasional lucky potion, you can't actually remember when you last ate. In any case, it'd be rude for you to decline.

Tsarminia ushers you inside the comfortable building, it wasn't huge by any means, but at least it had actual divided rooms. The doors were all open, so you could see just about everything. The center of the house was a furnace, with everything bordering the heat source. The entryway contained a table with two chairs, a wall of garden tools, and windows providing views in every direction. To the left, you glimpse into the pantry, with a suitably large collections of foodstuffs, especially as an isolated homesteader like Tsarminia probably didn't restock it often. Finally, you could see into her bedroom, with a large bed, a desk, and a bookshelf visible. All in all, it was a quaint, nice place.

Your host gets out the food: smoked venison, potato and carrot stew, as well as a few loaves of bread. She also retrieves a bottle of wine from the pantry. It's a very nice vintage, and the two of you make your way through it as you enjoy the meal. Tsarminia talks about herself a fair bit. She makes a good enough living doing specialist adventuring, being a skilled tracker, as well as an expert in the fighting of undead. When between jobs, she stays in the house, away from the world.

After the meal, you're invited to look at her equipment, which she designed herself. You follow her into the bedroom, where an armor stand was earlier hidden from your view. It's impressive work, you note a couple of features that a Khajiit would certainly appreciate, from extra space for her ears and tail to gauntlets that allowed her claws the freedom to rend. You admire the set, and tell Tsarminia such. When she thanks you for the praise, her voice is considerably closer that you expected.

Somewhat surprised, you turn around to find your host mere inches away. She closes that distance, putting her furry head right besides yours. Tsarminia purrs into your ear and you put your arms around her, in a somewhat awkward (considering your armor) embrace. The cat reaches up to your arms and pulls them down, until your hands are firmly around the base of her tail.

She chuckles, and you suddenly feel her slowly lick the side of your neck. Tsarminia's tongue is raspy, warm, and wet, sending shivers up and down your spine. In response, your hands squeeze her buttocks, getting renewed purrs. She leans forward, putting pressure against you. Your legs feel wobbly, but you push back. The Khajiit starts to undo the strap holding you quiver on as you begin to knead her firm, toned ass.

Detaching you from your bow, Tsarminia causally sets it by the wall with one hand, before throwing both arms around your shoulders and grinding against your body, in time to the pressure you're putting on her derriere. Nothing changes for a too-short eternity; then, with regret, you let your hands slip down and take a step back. Low, disheartened groans come from each of your throats. After being on that ass, it's awfully difficult to get your sword belt off, but you manage to get it removed and propped up with your quiver. Your welcoming host helps you pull the armor off from around your head, leaving both of you in plain clothes, you with leather pants and a flaxen shirt, her in the green gown.

You step forward, forcing her back a half-step, and against the side of her bed, before the embrace beings anew. Your hands roam up and down her back for a moment, feeling the fur underneath the fabric before you settle them once again on her rump. She looks into your face and you stare into her deep, green eyes. Your mouths close for a kiss. Kissing a Khajiit is different, to say the least. There is a fight for dominance between your tongues, which you quickly lose, and your mouth soon has that rasping tongue inside: exploring, electrifying, arousing. Eventually, your inferior tongue makes it to her maw; you run it over smooth, pointy teeth.

Tsarminia shifts herself slightly to the side, finding your leg slightly forward. She grinds against it rhythmically. Her crotch is right on your leg, and you can feel your erection pressing against the cat. By the divines, your head goes fuzzy, on a cloud, way above the gold tower and right on top of yours. It's unsure if it's your push or her pull, but the two of you end up folding to the bed. Unspoken consensus has you and her scoot onto it fully, where you bury your face in the nape of her neck, rubbing your face against her warm fur, breathing deeply of her warm scent. Four hands roam over a lover's body, both of you afire with passion.

Her hands find the way underneath your shirt, and you feel the prick of claws on your chest. You reach around to the back of her dress, pulling knots apart. She pulls your shirt over your head and wriggles out of the dress, with the pressure against her, every squirm drives you wild. Paws reach, grab the waistband of both your pants and undergarments, pull, and remove your remaining clothes. You quickly decide that, without a doubt, Tsarminia, in her panties and bra, is overdressed for the situation. A movement of the hands flips the bra up, allowing her tender, bare breasts freedom. She sighs as you rub them.

One scrap of clothing remains between the two of you. Squished between the coat of luxurious fur and the surface of the bed, you slowly trail your hand down, getting to her tail. Hooking first a finger, then your hand under her panties, you start to lower them, running your middle knuckle along and between her cheeks. She moans as you pull them around her legs and you both note how wet they had been.

There's a bit of distance as you get the damp undergarments off, she is laying on her back and grabs her legs to spread them amazingly wide, giving you a tempting view. Her voice is husky, hungry, “Do me. Please. Do me now.”

You lean over the Khajiit, pressing the tip of your dick against her warm, inviting slit. She practically pleads with impatience at the touch. “Fuck. Fuck me,” She screams as you thrust in, a high, feline scream.

It's a nice, snug fit around your shaft. Her walls are warm, slick, and tight. Bliss. You thrust slowly, at an easy pace. Tsarminia responds by turns with meows, screams, and sounds of passion. You speed up slowly. Very slowly, and her volume increases dramatically. When you think that she's gotten loud enough, you straighten up to kneeling. In one quick moment, your arms scoop up her legs and set them on your shoulders. You lean as far forwards as her legs can take it, which puts your nose on hers, thanks to incredible flexibility. After a second of staring into each others eyes and panting, you go up a bit, and begin pounding at her. The change of position lets you go deeper than before, and you go both deep and hard.

Every stroke is something special, and you start to lose control. Tsarminia's yells reach a fever pitch, becoming a cat's yowl as you bring her over the edge. Her cunt tightens around you, and you want nothing more than to fill that kitty up. You manage to resist the urge and complete a few more strokes as she goes through her climax.

You get a bit of distance again and take her legs from your shoulders. You bend them at the knees and flip the shuddering cat over. Her arms won't seem to hold her weight, so she slumps to her breasts, face, and knees. Mounting her again, you shove it into her sopping wet vagina once more. You thrust a few times, then lose any semblance of control and start to go wild.

Tsarminia finds herself coming down from one climax to nearing the apex of another, and her screams come loud and often. With one hand, you reach under her to fondle a breast, while the other grabs her shoulder for leverage. It's too much for you, and your penis sends out a single spurt of cum, which is more than enough for Tsarminia to cum even harder, her velvet walls clamp down as you thrust. You let it all go and shoot spurt after spurt into her, with her own vagina milking you for all your worth.

As soon as you pull out, your lover collapses in exhaustion. You crawl next to her, and curl up with her as you both sleep long and hard.