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Maeve fumbled with her key card, trying to fit it into the lock of her apartment. Damn thing wasn't going in, and the massive, furry hand groping her ass wasn't helping. "Stop that!" she hissed back- it was late, couldn't be too loud, or else her neighbors would be angry and she hated dealing with that old Ithorian female warbling at her with her twin mouths. "At least till we're inside..."
A low groan came from behind her. Shyriiwook. Still didn't understand, still didn't need to- the tone was pretty obvious. "Just a skraggin' minute..."
There
. The card slotted in, a triple tone chiming out and a light winking green. Then her four-digit entry code- why the hell did she have to have this much security in Kaas City, the kriffin' seat of the Empire?- and she was in. The door slid open and she practically fell inside, stumbling on her too-high heels.
Furball- she couldn't understand his name even if she'd known it- caught her, gigantic arm looping around her chest, coarse fur rubbing on the wide expanse of cleavage exposed by the rather immodest top she wore. It almost tickled; Maeve would have giggled had the breath not caught in her throat at how damn good it felt.
Kriffing Wookiees.
Wobbling to her feet, the Sith extricated himself from the enormous being's grasp and walked further into the apartment, barely remembering to grab her key card as she went. The place was spartanly furnished, furniture generally cheap and a bit beaten- apprentices didn't get much of an allowance, after all. Relatively small, just one bedroom, but she had a nice living area and a kitchen- as if she ever used it.
She managed to make her way through the kitchen without falling over- practically a miracle, in her state. She'd shared the furball's bottle of Cortyg brandy earlier, and that stuff was
not
meant for thin human women, not at all. Didn't help that she'd been chasing a dose of glitterdust with it, either. Probably a miracle she was even this coherent.
She turned, to tell the Wook to follow her, but the furball was already there, towering over her. "Okay, so-"
Before she could direct him to the bedroom, however, he had picked her up bodily with one hand, slamming her back against the wall. She moaned out loud, arms coming around his neck; his rough tongue ran up the side of her neck, over the little interlocking-square tattoo there. He had fangs,
sharp
fangs, for killing prey, and they nipped at her soft flesh- the sheer feeling had her soaking wet already, and the thought that she was just prey to him, that got her
dripping
.
That rough tongue scraped her neck again, up to her sharp jawline, all the way up to the hollow beneath her ear, and she shuddered in the massive being's grasp. Kriff, maybe it was just the spice and the booze, which she
highly
doubted, but she was pretty much just putty in those chestnut-furred arms. Whatever the reason, Maeve was already about to cum, and the Wookiee had barely touched her.
The "about to cum" changed to "she was cumming" barely half a second later; his other hand, fingers longer than most human cocks, had come up between her legs, and the leathery pad of one of his digits had stroked her clit, ever-so-slightly. She screamed out loud, arms tightening around his neck- she was always louder drunk or high, and especially when she was both- and then her whole body slackened in the Wookiee's grip.
He growled something appreciatively; Maeve would have normally said something appropriately sarcastic back, but right now she was entirely out of breath, and was totally unable to think straight enough to say anything. That was fine. There didn't need to be any talking.
He let her down, the human's head barely reaching up to his chest; legs shaky, she fell against him.
There was something hard against her stomach. And her chest. And all the way up between her tits.
"
Kriff
..." the Sith breathed, almost in awe. She'd heard about Wookiees, mostly in jokes, but she'd dismissed most of it as bantha poodoo. But this cock here... this was no joke.
It was almost scary.
Almost
. But Maeve wasn't one to back down from a challenge- she was a Sith, damn it, she'd killed Jedi in battle, and she was flying on glitterdust and Cortyg. She could handle this furball's monster.
Well, she'd try. Maeve normally liked big cocks, and she'd had more than her fair share in her time, but nothing quite like this Wookiee's. But she could do it.
All this thinking positive wasn't helping, though, not as much as she wished it would. Only one thing for it- just going for it.
The Sith bent her head down, tentatively giving the head of the massive thing a lick. It throbbed at that, clear precum exuding from its wide slit; lapping that up, she found it strangely sweet, instead of the salty taste of human she was so used to.
The Wookiee's cock was bright red-pink, thick veins pulsing along its shaft. She put a hand around it, near the base- well, as close as she could to around it, which was not very much. He was
thick
, so thick she couldn't really imagine taking him. Could fantasize, though- and she was all about living her fantasies, after all. Her hand trailed down to his balls- and found another surprise. They were pretty enormous themselves, but there were
four
. She felt around, caressing each one and hearing him grown in response. Yup, four balls. Interesting...
She opened her mouth as wide as she could, forcing her lips over the gigantic pink head as far as possible, which, again, was not much. Still, the Wook growled appreciatively, clawed fingers caressing her neck, running through her hair- he had
claws
? The Sith groaned whorishly over the massive cockhead in her mouth, a hand sneaking down under her scandalously short skirt to rub at her engorged clit. Claws and fangs and a tool that'd make a rancor self-conscious... Maeve decided she liked Wookiees.
Evidently he liked slutty Sith just as much, because he pushed her off of him and then absolutely
shredded
her top with those claws. The same followed for her short skirt, and although those had been expensive, she really didn't give a damn at that point. All she wanted was for the furball to kriffin'
destroy
her.
Force, she was dripping, juices running down both legs. Good thing she'd not worn underwear, then.