Mumei's forgotten everything.
You're not sure how, but she's forgotten everything.
Everything but your scent and her most base urges.
You creak the door open to find her huddled into a dark corner of your unlit room, clutching a pair of your boxers to her face, huffing furiously and fingering herself, her hips moving slightly, soft mewls and moans escaping her.
So entrenched in the reliving of her one and only memory is she that she doesn't even notice your presence until you open the door wider to enter, the sliver of light it permits into the room expanding until it meets her face.
Her head snaps towards your direction, her gaze that of a bewildered animal, the only cause for her lowering the pair of boxers away from her face being the surprise of a possible threat as she operates on basic instinct.
She looks at you, but she does not see you. She does not recognize the figure standing in the doorway. You could be anyone or anything else and her surprise would be all the same. You're not even sure if she registers you as a person.
But she does register your scent.
She pounces on you like some manner of beast, pinning you to the floor, rendering you unable to escape as she stared down at her prey item, heaving breath meeting your face.
Mumei was never a strong one, no. She was not pinning you down with strength, but with desire.
Every desire in her body, every thought in her head, every fiber of her being was responding to your scent and telling her that she needed to mate with this thing she has pinned underneath her. Immediately.
She lowers herself onto you, dropping the entirety of her weight against your body as she clings to you like her life depends on it.
To say she was making out with you would be an understatement. To say she was kissing you would be an injustice. Nay, she was tasting you. Putting her mouth to your face in some primal show of affection, trying to feel as much of you as she possibly could with every part of her body.
Including inside her.
Diverting as little focus as possible, her hands move to extirpate whatever obstacles stand between her flesh and yours.
You can feel your cock against her lower body as she clumsily tries to stick herself onto it, her hips gyrating as though she already were.
She finally gets it, yelping in some sort of innocent surprise at the sensation, as though she were merely following her body's orders without knowing what to expect of their results.
She wraps herself around you like a blanket as she begins milking your cock with her hips.
Her insides feel like you stuck your dick into the most pleasurable iron forge there could be, the rhythmic motions of her walls whittling away at your resistance.
She was doing this for one reason and one reason only. To reproduce. And she was not going to let up until you relinquished the baby-making material her body sought.
She was inches away from your face, by now so lost in primal pleasure that you doubt she was even mentally registering anything her eyes were seeing. She was staring not even at you, but through you. This thing on top of you, panting and heaving, this animal that probably wouldn't even recognize you as the same species as her were it not for her body screaming the fact at her.
This was Mumei.
...
You awake hours later at some indeterminate time of night. You're in your bed, tucked under the sheets as normal.
You look to your side. Mumei is there beside you, sounding sleeping and softly breathing.
She stirs into you, gently breaking herself out of her slumber.
Sleep-eyed and heavy-lidded she looks up at you. She wraps an arm around you to pull herself close into your chest. She speaks in a gentle whisper, on the brink of sleep.
"I love you, Anon..."