The first of an intended series of short, smutty, standalone stories about people having sex with cute pet catgirls and catboys. Why are there pet catfolk in this world? Do they have human rights? They must, because all characters in this story are eighteen and older! Enjoy the story.
The credits began to roll as the episode ended, and Mark finally turned off the TV, plunging the living room into near-darkness. The only light came through the window from the streetlamps outside. Mark checked his phone and sighed. He had stayed up far later than he had meant to, and had to work in the morning.
A soft, intermittent humming sound caught Mark's attention. Cleo had fallen asleep on the couch beside him, curled up with her head by her master's thigh, her long, slender tail wrapped around her for warmth. Mark smiled, reached down, and gently stroked the young catgirl's dark, silky hair. One of Cleo's fuzzy ears twitched at the contact, but she did not stir otherwise. She was fast asleep, safe and content, innocently unaware of how much her mere presence warmed her master's heart.
Mark stroked her head a little longer, then slowly worked his way down, softly rubbing Cleo's back and shoulder through the worn, almost threadbare, oversized brown sweater that she habitually wore. It was the one thing she had brought with her from the shelter when Mark had adopted her almost a year ago, and she still wore it all the time whenever it was just them in the house. Keeping it washed was a challenge unto itself, but Mark was willing to put up with the occasional laundry day cat scratches for her sake. Having a pet was all about responsibility, after all.
Looking over her now, Mark took a moment to admire Cleo's bare, pale legs tucked between her body and her tail, which protruded from beneath the hem of her sweater. If Mark were to pull on the sweater ever so gently, he could easily expose the base of her tail, just above her sweet little bubble butt. That butt was easily Cleo's sexiest feature. She was a tiny thing, just a hair shy of 5' tall, and thin all over except for her shapely little ass and thighs. Mark was tempted to slide his hand down and cop a feel of it right now. Like most catgirls, Cleo almost never wore any underwear, but Mark resisted the urge. Cleo didn't like to be touched there, not unless she was in the mood.
Indeed, Cleo seldom liked to be touched at all unless she was in the right mood. That was what had set her apart from the other cats at the shelter. Whereas most of the catgirls and catboys Mark had met there were friendly and gregarious, and eager to be petted and hugged and picked up and cuddled, Cleo was shy and timid and shrank back when approached. It wasn't that she was cold or aloof, far from it. Mark could see it in her eyes. Those big, beautiful green eyes. Cleo was a lonely soul who needed a whole lot of love and affection just like any catgirl, but it had to be at her own pace. Mark could never quite explain why, but right there and then he felt the need to give this adorable catgirl the home she deserved. She had been shy and reclusive at first, but had warmed up to her new master before too long. Mark remembered fondly the first time she had wordlessly sat beside him on the couch, then slid onto his lap and snuggled into his chest as she purred.
Mark shook his head. It was too late at night for such reminiscing. Leaving Cleo to her slumber, Mark quickly brushed his teeth, stripped out of his clothes, plugged in his phone, and got into bed. He slept naked almost every night now, and tonight would be no exception. He lay beneath the covers, warm and cozy, and let himself drift away... until the tinkle of a tiny bell reached his ears, accompanied by the faint sound of dainty footsteps just outside his room. The door swung silently inward, and at the foot of his bed stood the petite silhouette of his beloved Cleo.
"Master?" she mewed quietly.
"Hey Kittygirl," Mark whispered as he sat up in bed. "Coming to bed with me?"
Cleo nodded. In the dim light, Mark could just make out her features, though her eyes shone brightest of all. He could tell she was smiling. This was the way with Cleo. Be patient and let her come to you. As Mark watched, Cleo quickly pulled her sweater up over her head, revealing her pale, naked body like a ghost in the night before she dropped to her knees and crawled beneath the untucked covers. Mark sighed happily as he felt her crawl up over his body, her smooth skin sliding against his until her head popped out the top and their faces were only inches apart.
