[Web Res] Furry Wife of the Week: Pulchra Fellini (Covered)

I like Pulchra even from the moment she was unveiled and still a non-playable character. So imagine my happiness when her name came up in the council. I went for a simple yet good pose for this piece. I hope you all like how it came out!

Short Story

Secret Desires

Pan Yinhu charged through the Hollow, his booming voice cutting through the chaos as he barked orders and swung his weapon with unrelenting force. To the team, he was a force of nature—stubborn, practical, and larger than life. But beneath the bravado, a quiet doubt lingered. Do they even see me? His bulky frame didn’t match the sleek, chiseled look that turned heads, and that insecurity gnawed at him—especially when it came to Pulchra Fellini.

Pulchra was a vision—sharp-witted, confident, and stunning in a way that stole his breath. Even amidst the mission’s chaos, he couldn’t look away. Her slim figure moved with lethal grace, her thick, shapely thighs flexing as she dodged an enemy’s blow. Her tank top clung to her sweat-drenched skin, molding to her big breasts, and the sight hit him like a punch. She radiated a magnetic pull, her opportunistic edge and sly charm drawing him in, even as he convinced himself he didn’t stand a chance.

The mission stretched on, hours of grueling combat under a blazing sun. By the end, Pan’s shirt stuck to his broad chest, soaked through. But it was Pulchra who held his gaze. She slumped against a broken wall, catching her breath, her clothes nearly transparent with sweat. Beneath her tank top and denim short shorts, he glimpsed a micro bikini—thin straps straining against her curves, a thong bottom hugging her hips. His heart thudded, and he tore his eyes away, cheeks burning.

Get it together, he muttered inwardly, fists tightening. She’d never see you like that. Still, the image seared into his mind, a spark he couldn’t extinguish.

The team trudged back to the ryokan, exhaustion weighing them down. Pan needed an escape. “I’m hitting the bath first,” he said, his voice gruff but casual. “Gotta wash this crap off.”

No one argued, and he slipped away, craving the quiet.

***

The bathhouse welcomed him with warm wood and thick steam. Pan stripped off his gear and sank his bulky frame into the hot water, a low groan escaping as the heat melted into his sore muscles. It soothed his body, but not his mind. Pulchra lingered there, inescapable. He leaned back, eyes closing, and let his thoughts drift where they shouldn’t.

Her sweat-slicked form swam into focus—those thighs, that micro bikini, the way her shorts had teased him. His breath hitched, and heat pooled low as he hardened, the fantasy taking hold. What if she joined him here, her skin glistening, her hands grazing his? He pictured her voice, soft and teasing, confessing she’d noticed him too.

His hand slid beneath the water, gripping himself—slow strokes building to urgent ones as he imagined her closer, her breasts brushing his chest, her lips tracing his neck. It was a reckless dream, but it felt so real. He bit his lip, lost in the rhythm, the bath’s warmth amplifying every sensation.

“Pan?” Her voice sliced through his haze.

His eyes flew open. Pulchra stood at the bath’s edge, still in her mission gear. Her tank top hugged her sweat-soaked curves, outlining her big breasts, the faint shape of her micro bikini peeking through. Her denim short shorts clung to her hips, damp and revealing. Her dark eyes flicked to the water’s subtle ripple where his hand had been. Panic surged, and he yanked his hand back, splashing as he fumbled to cover himself. “Pulchra! Shit—I didn’t hear you!”

Her lips curved into a sly, almost shy smile. “I can see that. You were… busy.”

His face burned, shame warring with desire. “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean—please, just forget this.”

She didn’t move, her gaze unwavering. “Why would I forget?” She grasped her tank top’s hem and tugged it upward, peeling it off to reveal her micro bikini. The top strained against her breasts, the edges riding up to expose the soft pink of her areola—a tantalizing glimpse. She shed her denim shorts next, sliding them down her shapely thighs with ease, leaving her in that barely-there bikini, the thong bottom accentuating her hips.

Pan’s breath stalled. She was stunning—slim waist, thick thighs, and that bikini leaving little to the imagination. His pulse hammered as he fixated on the way the top struggled, that peek of areola driving him wild. Steam curled around her as she stepped closer, her confidence stark against his flustered mess.

“I’ve seen how you watch me, Pan,” she said, slipping into the water with a ripple. “Out there, on the mission. You think I don’t notice?”

He swallowed hard, his voice barely a croak. “You… noticed?”

“Mhm.” She drifted nearer, water lapping at her skin. “And I’ve been curious about you. You’re loud, sure, but there’s more. Something… interesting.”

His heart slammed against his ribs. “Me? I’m just—I’m not like you. I’m not the type people go for.”

She tilted her head, eyes searching his. “You’re wrong. I like a man with some weight to him—someone real. And I think you’ve got more to offer than you realize.”

She was close now, her warmth seeping through the water. Her gaze mixed boldness and curiosity, and she leaned in, her breath grazing his cheek. “Well… I heard you’re good at this. Would you mind showing me how?”

His mind blanked, her words sinking in. “Good at… what?”

Her smile turned playful, daring. “At making someone feel wanted. At turning a moment into something unforgettable.”

A spark flared in him, chasing away the doubt. He reached for her, tentative at first, then bolder, his hands finding her waist. “Yeah,” he murmured, voice rough with need. “I can show you.”

She surged forward, her lips crashing into his with a hunger that matched his own. Pan pulled her close, her curves pressing into his bulk, and for once, he didn’t question it. She wanted him—him—and that was enough.

***