Owl Feathers and Seagull Wings
by John FCCF Poseyabout 2 hours ago
•long read•hot intensityDole-kun stood nearly a head taller than Marin when they finally found themselves alone in the quiet hotel suite after the inter-league mascot event. The big Blakiston’s fish owl still wore the red-and-black striped jersey of Hokkaido Consadole Sapporo, the fabric stretched across his broad, gray-feathered chest. His golden-yellow eye borders caught the low light as he looked down at the slender seagull girl in front of him. Marin’s cream-white plumage looked soft under the soft lamp glow, the bright red bow on the side of her head slightly tilted, her blue Marinos jersey and short white pleated skirt still on from the day’s appearances. Both of them were eighteen, and the polite public smiles they wore for the cameras had long since faded into something hungrier.
Marin stepped closer first. Her slender yellow beak brushed the edge of his larger brown one in a careful, curious kiss. Dole-kun’s oversized wing-hands settled on her narrow waist, the three-pointed feathered mittens careful not to snag her jersey. The kiss deepened. She tasted faintly of the salt air she always carried, and he smelled of northern forests and clean snow. Their tongues met—hers smaller and quicker, his broader and slower—while their bodies pressed together. The hard line of his cock was already pushing against the front of his black shorts, thick and heavy, the heat of it unmistakable even through the fabric.
Marin’s blue eyes flicked down. She reached between them and cupped him through the shorts, feeling the full length and thickness of his penis swell under her soft plush hand. “You’re already this hard,” she murmured, voice light and teasing. She sank to her knees on the carpet, the white skirt riding up the backs of her thighs. Her fingers worked the waistband of his shorts down, freeing his cock. It sprang out thick and dark against the pale gray of his feathered lower belly, the head already glistening. She wrapped both hands around the shaft, stroking once from base to tip, then leaned in and took the head into her mouth.
Her beak opened wide enough to accept him. Warm, wet heat closed around the sensitive crown of his cock. She sucked slowly, tongue swirling under the ridge while one hand stroked the remaining length she couldn’t yet fit. Dole-kun’s feathered fingers slid into the soft cream feathers at the back of her head, careful of the red bow. He groaned low in his throat as she took him deeper, cheeks hollowing, the soft wet sounds of her oral sex filling the quiet room. Saliva slicked his shaft. She bobbed her head, taking more of him each time, the head of his cock bumping the back of her throat until she pulled back with a soft gasp, strings of spit connecting her lips to the flushed tip.
She looked up at him, eyes half-lidded, and licked a slow stripe up the underside of his penis before sucking the head again, harder this time. Dole-kun’s hips twitched. He pulled her up before he finished too soon, lifting her easily. Marin’s jersey came off first, then the skirt, leaving her in only the red ankle socks and the soft white feathers that covered her slender body. Her small breasts were soft mounds of cream plumage, the pink tips of her nipples already tight. Between her thighs her pussy was already wet, the soft folds glistening when he slid a careful finger along them.
He laid her back on the wide bed. His own jersey and shorts joined hers on the floor. The big owl settled between her open legs, wings braced on either side of her. He rubbed the thick head of his cock up and down her slick pussy lips, coating himself in her wetness, then pushed forward. The blunt head stretched her open. Marin’s breath caught as he sank into her, inch by thick inch, until his hips met hers and his cock was buried to the root inside her tight heat. She clenched around him, soft inner walls fluttering.
Dole-kun began to thrust—slow, deep strokes that dragged his thick shaft along every sensitive place inside her. Marin’s legs wrapped around his waist, ankles locking at the small of his back. The wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of her pussy grew louder with every thrust. He changed the angle, lifting her hips slightly so he could drive deeper. Each time he bottomed out she moaned, the soft cream feathers of her chest brushing against his gray plumage. He fucked her in long, steady strokes, the head of his penis kissing her cervix on the deepest ones, until her pussy tightened hard around him and she came with a sharp cry, pulsing and milking his cock.
He didn’t stop. He rolled them so she straddled him, his back against the pillows. Marin sank down onto his still-hard cock, taking every inch again, and began to ride. Her hands braced on his broad chest. Her hips rolled and bounced, the wet slap of her pussy meeting his pelvis filling the room. Dole-kun’s wing-hands gripped her waist, helping her rise and fall, watching his thick shaft disappear into her again and again. When she tired he thrust up hard to meet her, the new angle making her cry out. She leaned forward, red bow brushing his feathered brow, and kissed him messily while she ground down in tight circles.
He flipped them once more, this time onto her hands and knees. The doggy position let him see everything—the soft curve of her back, the way her pussy stretched around his cock as he pushed back inside, the cream feathers of her ass jiggling with every hard thrust. He gripped her hips and fucked her deeper, the thick length of his penis slamming home. Marin pushed back to meet him, moaning into the sheets. One of his feathered hands reached under her to rub slow circles over her clit while he kept pounding into her. She came again, harder, her pussy clamping down in rhythmic waves that almost pulled him over the edge.
Dole-kun held on. He pulled out just long enough to flip her onto her back again, then drove back into her pussy in one long stroke. Her legs hooked over his shoulders. He leaned down, forehead to forehead, and fucked her with short, powerful thrusts that made the bed creak. The wet, filthy sound of their bodies meeting filled the suite. Marin’s hands clutched at the gray feathers of his back. “Inside,” she whispered, voice broken with pleasure. “Come inside me.”
He groaned and buried himself to the hilt. His cock pulsed hard, thick ropes of cum flooding her pussy in heavy spurts. He kept thrusting through it, pushing his seed deeper with every grind of his hips until it began to leak out around his shaft in creamy white trails. When he finally stilled, still buried inside her, their mixed fluids slicked her thighs. Marin’s inner walls fluttered around him in small aftershocks, holding his softening cock as the creampie slowly seeped out.
They stayed locked together for a long moment, breathing hard, soft feathers pressed close. Outside the window the city lights of the tournament host city glowed, but neither of them moved to look. Dole-kun’s large wing-hand stroked slowly down her side. Marin’s beak brushed the edge of his in a slow, satisfied kiss. The night was still young, and neither the owl nor the seagull was finished yet.
Marin stepped closer first. Her slender yellow beak brushed the edge of his larger brown one in a careful, curious kiss. Dole-kun’s oversized wing-hands settled on her narrow waist, the three-pointed feathered mittens careful not to snag her jersey. The kiss deepened. She tasted faintly of the salt air she always carried, and he smelled of northern forests and clean snow. Their tongues met—hers smaller and quicker, his broader and slower—while their bodies pressed together. The hard line of his cock was already pushing against the front of his black shorts, thick and heavy, the heat of it unmistakable even through the fabric.
Marin’s blue eyes flicked down. She reached between them and cupped him through the shorts, feeling the full length and thickness of his penis swell under her soft plush hand. “You’re already this hard,” she murmured, voice light and teasing. She sank to her knees on the carpet, the white skirt riding up the backs of her thighs. Her fingers worked the waistband of his shorts down, freeing his cock. It sprang out thick and dark against the pale gray of his feathered lower belly, the head already glistening. She wrapped both hands around the shaft, stroking once from base to tip, then leaned in and took the head into her mouth.
Her beak opened wide enough to accept him. Warm, wet heat closed around the sensitive crown of his cock. She sucked slowly, tongue swirling under the ridge while one hand stroked the remaining length she couldn’t yet fit. Dole-kun’s feathered fingers slid into the soft cream feathers at the back of her head, careful of the red bow. He groaned low in his throat as she took him deeper, cheeks hollowing, the soft wet sounds of her oral sex filling the quiet room. Saliva slicked his shaft. She bobbed her head, taking more of him each time, the head of his cock bumping the back of her throat until she pulled back with a soft gasp, strings of spit connecting her lips to the flushed tip.
She looked up at him, eyes half-lidded, and licked a slow stripe up the underside of his penis before sucking the head again, harder this time. Dole-kun’s hips twitched. He pulled her up before he finished too soon, lifting her easily. Marin’s jersey came off first, then the skirt, leaving her in only the red ankle socks and the soft white feathers that covered her slender body. Her small breasts were soft mounds of cream plumage, the pink tips of her nipples already tight. Between her thighs her pussy was already wet, the soft folds glistening when he slid a careful finger along them.
He laid her back on the wide bed. His own jersey and shorts joined hers on the floor. The big owl settled between her open legs, wings braced on either side of her. He rubbed the thick head of his cock up and down her slick pussy lips, coating himself in her wetness, then pushed forward. The blunt head stretched her open. Marin’s breath caught as he sank into her, inch by thick inch, until his hips met hers and his cock was buried to the root inside her tight heat. She clenched around him, soft inner walls fluttering.
Dole-kun began to thrust—slow, deep strokes that dragged his thick shaft along every sensitive place inside her. Marin’s legs wrapped around his waist, ankles locking at the small of his back. The wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of her pussy grew louder with every thrust. He changed the angle, lifting her hips slightly so he could drive deeper. Each time he bottomed out she moaned, the soft cream feathers of her chest brushing against his gray plumage. He fucked her in long, steady strokes, the head of his penis kissing her cervix on the deepest ones, until her pussy tightened hard around him and she came with a sharp cry, pulsing and milking his cock.
He didn’t stop. He rolled them so she straddled him, his back against the pillows. Marin sank down onto his still-hard cock, taking every inch again, and began to ride. Her hands braced on his broad chest. Her hips rolled and bounced, the wet slap of her pussy meeting his pelvis filling the room. Dole-kun’s wing-hands gripped her waist, helping her rise and fall, watching his thick shaft disappear into her again and again. When she tired he thrust up hard to meet her, the new angle making her cry out. She leaned forward, red bow brushing his feathered brow, and kissed him messily while she ground down in tight circles.
He flipped them once more, this time onto her hands and knees. The doggy position let him see everything—the soft curve of her back, the way her pussy stretched around his cock as he pushed back inside, the cream feathers of her ass jiggling with every hard thrust. He gripped her hips and fucked her deeper, the thick length of his penis slamming home. Marin pushed back to meet him, moaning into the sheets. One of his feathered hands reached under her to rub slow circles over her clit while he kept pounding into her. She came again, harder, her pussy clamping down in rhythmic waves that almost pulled him over the edge.
Dole-kun held on. He pulled out just long enough to flip her onto her back again, then drove back into her pussy in one long stroke. Her legs hooked over his shoulders. He leaned down, forehead to forehead, and fucked her with short, powerful thrusts that made the bed creak. The wet, filthy sound of their bodies meeting filled the suite. Marin’s hands clutched at the gray feathers of his back. “Inside,” she whispered, voice broken with pleasure. “Come inside me.”
He groaned and buried himself to the hilt. His cock pulsed hard, thick ropes of cum flooding her pussy in heavy spurts. He kept thrusting through it, pushing his seed deeper with every grind of his hips until it began to leak out around his shaft in creamy white trails. When he finally stilled, still buried inside her, their mixed fluids slicked her thighs. Marin’s inner walls fluttered around him in small aftershocks, holding his softening cock as the creampie slowly seeped out.
They stayed locked together for a long moment, breathing hard, soft feathers pressed close. Outside the window the city lights of the tournament host city glowed, but neither of them moved to look. Dole-kun’s large wing-hand stroked slowly down her side. Marin’s beak brushed the edge of his in a slow, satisfied kiss. The night was still young, and neither the owl nor the seagull was finished yet.