"So," the red panda murmurs, huge golden eyes locked onto you.
The panda is sexy, full stop. Lithe, toned, teasingly androgynous, stretched out on and slightly overflowing the couch. Their fur is immaculately groomed, and as far as you can tell, groomed all over, because they're not wearing much beyond hip-hugging black shorts, silver bangles, and a wide smile. Compared to you, they're also very, very big. You're perched on one of the couch's armrests, the one the panda's head is by rather than the one their pretty paws idly knead, far in the distance.
You take a deep breath. "So."
"I want," the panda whispers, lowering their head toward you, "to eat you." Their tone makes it both a conspiratorial confession and a naughty promise.
Your eyes widen, but you manage a weak smile. "How... how literally do you mean that?"
They close their eyes and slowly tilt their head back. "Mmm." They slowly bring two fingers to ther lower lip, curling the claws in. "Mmm-hmm." That noise is half-giggle, half exclamation as they lift their fingers away and toss their muzzle back just a little, as if pulling something deeper into their mouth. "Mmm. Mmm." It's breathier, blissful, blush-inducing. Their head tilts back, exposing the thick ruff of their neck fur to you. And louder, more urgent: "Mmm—!"
They swallow audibly. The plush neck fur ripples. A shiver of pleasure runs down their body, passing through their train-sized tail like a wave. A final "mmmmm..." trails off into a contented sigh.
When they open their eyes again, their gaze doesn't sweep over you as much as pin you, and the red panda's slow smile says everything. I see your blush. Your faster breathing. Your nervousness. Your anticipation.
"That literally," they whisper.
© 2020 Arilin Thorferra