Flirting Cat Novels & Stories

There isn't a single day I don't want to be around Kitty Kat, and I place kisses over her body until she tries to swat me away. "No, stop that! Bad merman!" Her sweet laughter makes me feel like a sparkling firework. I'm tingling, my intentions are naughty, and I playfully lick her face. "Seriously?" Kat snorts. "You're gross—I'm all wet and drenched in your saliva, and the sun hasn't risen yet!" I laugh. "You're cute when you get angry, this tiny, little terrorist with the face of an angel." "STOP CALLING ME TINY. YOU'RE ONLY MAKING ME MAD!"

The air was warm, filled with soft murmurs and faint squeaking sounds. Gold lay curled protectively around her newborn kittens, her large black body shielding them carefully. Her golden eyes lifted the moment she saw me, watching me calmly as if daring me to complain. Beside her— That shameless stray male cat lounged comfortably nearby, chewing lazily on food like he owned the place. My eye twitched. “Oh, absolutely not,” I muttered under my breath. Nyxara burst into laughter. “Oh, look at him,” she said, pointing at the male cat. “He looks proud.”

"Too much for you, Little Kitten?" Little Kitten. Give Fury a little whiskey and she turns into a little kitten. I make myself meet his gaze. "I've seen bigger and better," I lie with a straight face. “I doubt that." He chuckles and walks into the closet to return a moment later, zipping up a pair of slacks. “And I've just figured out how to tell when you're lying." "Oh yeah?" "Your voice gets higher." "Fuck you." "Well, that was the plan, but you passed out."

Flora lounged on the couch, her eyes following Whiskerton's playful antics. The little ginger kitten was leaping at dust motes, swatting them with his tiny paws, his tail flicking with intense concentration. The kitten's boundless energy and childlike wonder were infectious. An urge to spoil this little ball of fluff welled up within her. Flora chuckled softly, entertained by his simple joy. It was a welcome distraction from the monotony of her recovery period.

And this little kitten seems more than willing to take whatever I give her. As I stalk toward her, she gives me a playful smile and begins walking backward, setting her glass down as she goes. A primal growl, a growl of the hunt rumbles in my chest. “Here kitty kitty.” My voice so deep is sounds like a snarl. She turns to run and gets one step before I’ve got her, pinning her against the wall. She’s panting as she looks at me. I reach up and tear her dress down the center, letting it fall open. “I hope you didn’t like that dress.” I say to her.

Caty didn’t hesitate. She lowered her head and pressed her soft lips against the burning tip of his manhood. A slow, guttural groan escaped his throat. And it seemed like Caty liked the sound of it, because she grew bolder. She parted her sweet, little mouth, let her tongue slip out, and began licking the tip; tasting him, teasing him. Licking as though he were some kind of ice cream. The next few moments were almost too much for him to endure.

It has a thin lace connecting to my shoulder, from front to the back, the gown also shines and is close to my body, especially at the waist. "Should I do what Lacy suggested, Tiger?" I called the attention of my cat who was eyeing me briefly. It didn't say a word and just stared at me so I sniffed and came to sit on the bed. "Don't you get me?" I asked my cat. "All right, I'll talk to you in your language as long as you answer? Say meow when it's okay, I'll do it, huh?" The cat just stared at me without reaction so I sneezed and spoke.

She bites her lower lip— white teeth sinking into red flesh— then turns, smiling at the bartender. "Whisky please. Rocks." Her gaze returns to me, and she raises her eyebrows. "Make that two," I say, not leaving her gaze. A minute later he places the drinks in front of us, her hand immediately reaching out to bring it to her lips. "Katherine," she says after taking a slow sip, "but my friends call me Kat." "Adam, but everyone calls me Emilio." "I think I'll stick with Adam," she replies haughtily, daring me to tell her otherwise. I lean in closer to her, trailing her body with my eyes again. I can't stop looking at her legs. She notices, and again raises an eyebrow.

After Winston leaves for work, Ron also departs, leaving only Emily and the feline friends behind. Flower, the head cat butler, brings some cats to perform various tricks for Emily's entertainment, from lying on their backs and exposing their bellies to a whole group of cats snuggling up to her; from lining up and singing meow meow o meow meow oh to massaging her shoulders. Emily is moved by their gestures and hugs Flower, patting its head: "Thank you so much, you've worked so hard. Please go rest now. I'm... I'm okay."

I blinked, stunned by her willingness to just give herself to this. “Yes, yes of course. And… you have to tell me the same, Kelsie.” She nodded solemnly, then lifted her hand to my chest and laid it there, on my collarbone, looking down at me and smiling. “So… this wolf thing… is that why you’re so cut?” I raised my eyebrows, but I couldn’t help smiling at the look on her face when she lifted her eyes back to mine. My kitten was flirting. “Maybe I’m just blessed with good genetics,” I said with a shrug.