I reached for my specially modified jeans, the ones with the awkward cutout in the back. Despite how ridiculous it looked to have my thorax cut through denim, I couldn't help but smile. Kassie was worth the effort.
She'd been so forward, while I'd barely strung two words together. Something about her presence scrambles my thoughts, leaving me fighting to control my body's reactions. When she's near, I have to focus on keeping my wings still, suppressing the instinctive displays that would reveal exactly how she affects me.
My dick was sore.
I dragged my hand down my face at the sound of knocking, only for Lucien to barge in without waiting for an answer. His wings fluttered with obvious amusement as he took in the scene. "What on Earth are you doing?"
I turned my back to him and fixed my jeans on the ironing board. “I'm ironing my clothes, so I don’t look like a slob in front of Kassie.”
The goddess. She was so beautiful and playful. Nothing could frighten her, it seemed. She talked to me as if it were the easiest thing in the world. Many feared me because of my height, even my own kind, but not her.
Lucien's antennae twitched skeptically as he leaned in to examine my clothes, his head cocked to one side in that characteristic Mothman gesture that substituted for the raised eyebrow we couldn't physically manage.
“Atlas, you really don’t have to do that.”
I sighed and continued. “It’s keeping me calm. Did you bring what I asked for?”
Lucien smirked and reached into the bag his second set of arms was holding. “Yes, in fact, you will be happy with this. It’s a patch, and I have several. As long as you wear one, it should hold off your rut and keep you limp.” Lucien stared at my slit, which had bulged.
Crap, thinking too much about Kassie.
Those warm-looking breasts. I wanted to bury my face in them. She smelled so good, I wanted to mark her with mine and create our own smell. Even if it was just for fun.
I’m a pervert.
Lucien pulled the adhesive patch off the paper and slapped it onto my side. I screeched in surprise and narrowed my eyes at him. “That hurt!”
“For a big guy, you have sensitive skin.” Lucien turned and headed toward the couch, confidently sitting on it and letting his wings relax. “Did you get any sleep last night after squeezing the ball and letting its juices cover Kassie’s desk?”
I groaned and hid my face in my hands. “She kept showing me her avatars that looked like her. She looked so good!” I whined. “I wanted to just grab her ass and hold her close to me, tuck her into my body and never let her go. She feels so good when she touches me. And no one speaks to me like she does.”
Lucien gave me a look of understanding. “You’re big, Atlas, one of the bigger monsters here. I know you wouldn’t hurt a fly, but you are so secluded, preferring to stay away from people; they don’t know you. Kassie is a female who takes the moment.She realizes you are different and doesn’t want to spook you. I applaud her for reading you so well.”
A sound escaped me—something between a chirp and a whine. "Is that what she thinks?" I pressed my mandibles together, mortified. In my haste to face Lucien, my wing caught the ironing board, sending it clattering to the floor. Three strides took me to the mirror by the door, where I confronted my reflection. All I could see were the parts of me she might never accept.
My face was like any other Mothman. Giant eyes, slightly fuzzy face, and a mouth that was not easily moved.
Here I was, worried she wouldn’t accept a… bug. If she ever accepted me as a bug, she would quickly realize I am not a true… monster. A male worthy of a female.
“What should I do then?” I turned to Lucien. “What will make her think I am more… male? I need to hold a conversation with her.”
Lucien bobbed his head. “I really think the patch will help you. You were trying your hardest not to blow your load around her. This will help you concentrate on talking to her. Ask her where she came from, what she likes to do outside, because you know you are outside a lot.”
I nodded and tapped my finger on the side of my face. That was a good idea.
My mind raced with conversation starters as I dressed. The jeans slid over my lower limbs, followed by the flannel that was open in the back for my wings. Standing before the mirror, I fussed with the downy tufts crowning my head, meticulously groomed my antennae with my claws, and inspected my mandibles for remnants of my earlier meal.
Then I stopped and just stared.
I fluttered my wings and threw up my hands. “That’s it. I’m not going.”
I stomped over to my favorite rocking chair and fell with a thump.
Lucien didn’t move; he continued to clean himself with his hands, up and down his body.
If Lucien would say nothing, that was more of an incentive not to go.
Something slithered under my front door, darkness seeping through the cracks like black ink in water. The darkness stretched upward until it solidified into the tall, imposing figure of Mayor Hollow. I pressed my fingertips against my temples and let out an exasperated sigh.
