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Luna Loupe
The Catgirl and the Tentacle Monster
The Catgirl and the Tentacle Monster
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Kelssi is a catkin woman - a woman with the eyes, ears and tail of a cat. She's a respectable adventurer... but when she's in heat, she's overwhelmed by her animal lust. Luckily for Kelssi, she's about to encounter a tentacle monster that can match her needs!
3400 words of erotic fantasy sex, including tentacle monster sex with a catgirl, and oviposition! 18+ only!
Read an excerpt:
Glylls doesn’t speak, but its tentacle moves over to me, hovering within my reach now. I reach out to touch it gently, claws carefully sheathed as I touch strange skin. It’s cool and wet, tapering to a blunt point, and I think the strange bumps are the vestigial remnants of suckers.
I lean forward and with feline delicacy I lap my tongue against the smooth wet skin, just once. It tastes wet and clean and in my head I hear – feel – something like a gasp. Well, that’s my mind made up. I shrug off my bag, belt and knife sheaths – all of them, even the little hidden ones – and set them carefully in the corner before stepping to the edge of the pool.
“Yes,” I say. The water bubbles and then more tentacles, some like the first, some with a rounded bulge at their tips, burst out. Some of them extend over to me, lifting me into the air, peeling away my clothes as easily as I might peel an orange. After only a moment they’ve left me naked, a tentacle each supporting my wrists, ankles and waist, suspending me over the pool. My tail is up, coiling in the air – it always does betray my mood.
3400 words of erotic fantasy sex, including tentacle monster sex with a catgirl, and oviposition! 18+ only!
Read an excerpt:
Glylls doesn’t speak, but its tentacle moves over to me, hovering within my reach now. I reach out to touch it gently, claws carefully sheathed as I touch strange skin. It’s cool and wet, tapering to a blunt point, and I think the strange bumps are the vestigial remnants of suckers.
I lean forward and with feline delicacy I lap my tongue against the smooth wet skin, just once. It tastes wet and clean and in my head I hear – feel – something like a gasp. Well, that’s my mind made up. I shrug off my bag, belt and knife sheaths – all of them, even the little hidden ones – and set them carefully in the corner before stepping to the edge of the pool.
“Yes,” I say. The water bubbles and then more tentacles, some like the first, some with a rounded bulge at their tips, burst out. Some of them extend over to me, lifting me into the air, peeling away my clothes as easily as I might peel an orange. After only a moment they’ve left me naked, a tentacle each supporting my wrists, ankles and waist, suspending me over the pool. My tail is up, coiling in the air – it always does betray my mood.
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