The panther's head is still laid against you, her silky soft fur against your chest, as you voice your question. Her luminous green eyes draw up to meet you, and she says, in a purring voice, “In my husband’s cave, of course.”
You stiffen, drawing away. You have no wish to steel someone’s mate, let alone a possibly enraged panther. She senses your qualms. “Don’t worry,” she assures you, “I would not betray my beloved. He knows of our tryst, and blesses it.” she pauses for some moments, then looks back to you with a coquettish look in her eyes. “Of course,” she says, “if you are willing, I could always call my love to join us...”
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