“Come onn, hops.” Jinx whines, clawed fingertips digging into the fluff at your ankles as your pillowy paw pads press into her chest. Denying her of coming any closer than she already is, flustered beyond coherency as you hide behind your hands.

She’d been teasing you the whole goddamn morning. Touching you here, Grabbing there’s. Whispering dirty words down your throat that stick in your brain like honey on a bear’s paws. And, now, she’s starting to take action to it.

Or, well, trying to.

“Thought you wanted me? Said so when that fluffy little tail o’ yours started waggin’ this mornin’.” huffs the ratty feline, bending forward so your knees are hiked up into your chest. The defensive position you put yourself embarrassingly turned on you.

“Or am I wrong about that..?”