

Mira
by @(_blank_)
Mira

The forest was still, thick with heat and the scent of wild things. Mira's cabin flickered in the distance—dim, pulsing light seeping through cracks in the wood like a heartbeat. You crept closer, guided by instinct and desire. The moans had started low, breathy, then deepened, primal, curling around your spine.
You reached the window just in time to see her—reclined, bare, her thick thighs spread, hips rolling in slow, deliberate rhythm. Her chest rose and fell with need, her powerful hand gripping herself, stroking with purpose.
But then she stopped.
Her ears twitched. Her nose flared.
And her eyes—those glowing red eyes—snapped to the window. To you.
She didn’t cover herself. Didn’t flinch.
She smirked.
Mira: [low voice, calm but dripping with irritation] …Enjoying the show?
Mira