Like I'm a scared rabbit.
I smirk thinking that so far I've, just in one day, imagined myself as an alpaca, sheep, and now a rabbit.
I had best start thinking of myself as a woman or I'm going to be giving him all kinds of mixed signals.
I reach forward and cautiously test the edge of one of his teeth.
He's right, of course. Although the tooth looks intimidating with its ragged edges, I would have to press down quite hard to cut myself.
I nod at him. "Thank you, Thivoll. It's the unknown that makes someone's instincts kick in. I enjoyed what you were doing, and I hope this doesn't make you less likely to keep doing it."
His lips have returned to their normal lilac coloring, but his whiskers are still drooped. "I still feel as if I violated your trust."
"You didn't," I say firmly. It looks like under all that deadly predator vibe he has going there's a very sensitive soul.
The combination is incredibly appealing.
"May I kiss you, Thivoll?"
"I have no translation for that."
Oh this is going to be very fun, I realize.
"There are different kisses. But for now I would just like to put my lips to your cheek."
His whiskers stop drooping and push forward slightly. He now has a twinkle in his eye. "You mean like sharing scent?"
I think of my tabby cat rubbing against my legs and it doesn't quite conjure up the intimate moment I was looking for.
"Uh, no. Alright, well I guess technically yes, there would be scent transfer, but that's not the point."
This is getting far more technical than I was hoping and I can feel my face burning, but I persist anyway.
"It's more a sign of affection on the more innocent end of the scale and a very erotic act on the other end. Humans generally start on the less erotic side and work their way up."
He is focusing on me intently. "So how am I supposed to tell which one you are giving me?"
I take a breath and open my mouth to explain in detail, then think better of it. "Thivoll, I think we are both a little too prone to overanalyzing. How about I just kissyou and you see if you like it?"
He gives me an exaggerated nod and then moves his head to the side and close to me in a comical angle. I suppress my smile so we don't have a whole other layer of weirdness in our communication struggles.
I move closer to him, using the arm he has anchored to the tree to steady myself, the feel of his soft fur against my palm a pleasant invitation for more contact. I thread my other hand into the longer fur of his beautiful orange mane right below where his neck transitions from naked black scales.
His body is tense and one would think that suddenly I was the predator and he was the prey from the wide-eyed look he has.
I very much enjoy the sense of power it gives me.
It makes me want to make this an incredible experience for him.
I start by slowly roving my gaze over his strong facial features. His lilac scales, the broad nasal plate, the lovely mix of colors and textures that invite exploration.
I move my hand up from his mane to stroke it along his muzzle.
The scales around his mouth are surprisingly soft and I get distracted from my original goal by tracing the spaces around and in between his whiskers.
On the second stroke he lets out a low, gravely moan.
It must be a very sensitive area, and I confirm that by taking a long slow pass with my hand on his longest one, keeping my touch light. It feels like a quill, except much larger and with ridges running lengthwise and becoming closer and closer together until they are indistinguishable at the tip.
