“So this is how soft you are! I just knew it!” Tali squealed. Her legs folded up alongside the rest of her upon the couch, toes curling eagerly, their keratin claws coated with a hardened layer of pink courtesy of none other than her sweet little Bergamasca.
“Y-you knew what?--Bahh! Don't squeeze so tight!” Lucibelle bleated softly. Oh, would that she had known just how not-freaked out Tali would be upon discovering her secret. Twin spotted serpents coiled neatly around her chest, intertwined and held firm against any escape from snuggles most aggressive. Tali's arms brushed against the straps of her gown as they locked wrist to wrist, the slow rising and falling of her stomach pushing the poor prone Lucibelle with serene ups and downs.
A purr of schadenfreude added jaggedness to Tali's tone—then, a giggling mewl in reply to her protests. “I can't help it. You make it so easy!” However, her arms loosened in acquiescence, a goal of bahhs and bleats well-fed. “Y'now, I've never had my claws painted before. Whaddya think of this pink?” Her toes stretched and flexed as the leopardess slid down to unfurl her legs, pressing their padded surfaces firm against the edge of the coffee table. Tendons thrumming to life, the magenta sheen bore by her claws reflected what little light there was cast by the nearby lamp. “What a fine job you've done with them, don't you think?”
Lucibelle swallowed. This wasn't fair. “Y-you're just saying that because of the one time!”
“The one time what?” Tali purred. “I didn't say anything!”
“The one time we slept over for the first time, and I got really nervous a-and—hey! Y-you're making me think about it, stop that!” A faint shiver stroked the tips of her vertebrae, like fingers of ice lovingly caressing a book's spine in order to pry its darkest pages. She felt the faintest of difference as her chest slid—careless of the brief bumps—against Tali's snug. “T-Tali?”
The feline seemed heedless. Tali's arms has slipped into her pockets beneath Lucibelle's notice, and now ticked and tacked away on plastic mesas. “Psst. Your phone shrinks with you, right?”
“”Bahh, what kind of question is that? Of course it--!” She wriggled her wooly hips, getting as comfortable as her small body would allow on Tali's broadening lap comprised of supple, spotted thighs each approaching Lucibelle-levels of width. Blushing furiously, the sheep shut herself short and fished out her phone. Her broad, oval ears flicked at the sound of fur against cloth as Tali's hand deposited the device once again, apparently finished.
On Lucibelle's own screen, however, a brief flash provided more luminance than the lamplight. She dared open the message, a window to what Tali had not the conscience not say aloud—or perhaps could not say any better with words.