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A Driving Urge Two streaks of rust and white darted through the forest. The vixen leapt over the fallen trunk of a tree, and hot on her trail the dog fox darted beneath a broken section of its length, wiggling his belly low to the leaf-strewn ground before launching off again, nose right at the tip of his mate's tail. He nipped and snapped at the twitching tuft before his snout, only to yelp as the female fox called his bluff, rounding on him sharply. He crashed into her, and they tumbled over one another. Lithe, powerful legs grappled at each other's body, and happy yips and playful growls escaped them as they began to play-fight and wrestle. Over and over they rolled, grinding their smooth bellies together and tossing their heads back, exposing their necks vulnerably, showing each other just how far their trust went. Their games only stopped when they found themselves tumbling almost out of control, scooting and sliding down an unfamiliar bank, and landing in a cosy, entwined heap upon lush, thick grass.

Dragging themselves to their feet, the two foxes sniffed the air, tails twitching and ears perked up. The scent of the area in which they now found themselves was oddly unfamiliar, despite this woodland having been their home for years. There was a verdant glow to the area, with the tree canopy high above shining and shimmering from the sun beyond. The air seemed almost impossibly still, but at the same time the foxes could see pollen, feathery seed-pods and what looked like nothing more than glimmering particles of water or dust almost hanging perpetually in that calm. It was the dog fox who first began to move, to pad forward and seek to investigate this oddly peaceful clearing; this meadow in the midst of the woodland. He heard a soft whine, and turned his head to feel the vixen licking at his muzzle with nervous concern. He nuzzled against her, but proceeded on, feeling her fall into step beside and just behind him. She may have been frightened by this place, but wouldn't allow her mate to face its unknowns alone.

The grass was so soft beneath their paw-pads, and the earth beneath the greenery springy and yet not damp or muddy in the slightest. It smelled fragrant and sweet, untouched by the scent of other animals. The dog fox growled happily, and cocked one hind leg, marking this place with his own scent. Claiming it not just for himself, but for his mate too. She whined, stooping and spraying a scent mark of her own close by that of her mate, before rushing hurriedly to catch up to him as they trotted to the far side of the clearing. The closer they came to that far treeline, the sound of gentle running water reached their ears. They pushed through the undergrowth side by side, vixen no longer afraid, and emerged out to find themselves on the bank of a delicately flowing stream.

For a moment or two, the dog fox tensed, and darted left to place himself between his mate and the figure with whom they were sharing this space. The creature was unfamiliar to him. It didn't look like anything he knew from the forest, neither predator nor prey. Almost without fur, beyond long flowing strands that poured from the top of its head in a rusty red every bit as bright as the foxes' own coats. Pale fleshed, voluptuous in shape as it stood upon two legs, with a lush, healthy bosom and a face both youthfully rounded and anciently wise. The foxes slunk forward, low to the ground and yet every bit as intrigued as they were nervous to observe this strange creature as it stood in the stream. It was looking right at them, and reached out two pale arms, unthreatening and calm.

The foxes had no way of understanding the creature's motions, but as it drew its arms back towards itself, then stooped and scooped a cupped handful of water up within its palms and lifted it to its mouth, they too were stricken by a dire and consuming thirst. Whimpering softly, they trotted to the water's edge, lowering their heads as the sides of their bodies brushed together, and beginning to lap at the cool, crystal clear water bubbling past them.

Smiling, the Naiad watched the two creatures drinking from her stream. She gave a soft giggle as she dropped to her knees, and with a delicate splash sank back to be fully immersed by the water. By the time the vixen and dog fox lifted their muzzles to draw breath, water dripping from their chops, she was nowhere to be seen.

For almost another minute the two foxes drank in short bursts, neither one knowing why they were so thirsty, or even if they were thirsty at all, but compelled to keep drinking this supremely refreshing and invigorating water. It was the vixen who had taken her fill first, and lifted her head not just panting, but wide eyed and playful. She took a step back from the stream's edge, hopping from foot to foot like a cub trying to decide how best to play tackle its parent, and with a giddy yelp leapt at her mate. With forelimbs extended she flung herself over the side of his body, tackling him down onto his own side on the bank of the stream. He gurgled and yipped in shock, snorting and spraying his last muzzleful of water into the air in a fine mist, only to utter a happy, glorious bark as he watched the vixen leap up off him and dash away once again. With the instinct and urges of a thousand generations boiling suddenly inside of him, he licked his lips and gave chase once more.

Before they knew it, through the trees and across the grassy clearing, the foxes were back in forest that they recognised. Amongst trees and bushes and smells that were oh so familiar to them; noisy and imperfect, and home. They ran faster than ever, orange blurs rocketing through the undergrowth. Their dark paws drummed against the ground, whilst simultaneously barely seeming to touch it at all as they flew after one another. Around tree trunks and shrubs they twisted and darted. Separating around clusters of greenery only to almost collide on the other side, yelping and rearing up on their hind legs, pawing at their mate with frantic excitement before dropping back to all fours and starting to chase once again.

Quite when their energetic excitement boiled over into something else entirely, neither fox could tell. There came a moment however when the vixen tripped herself on a tree root and went sprawling to the ground, only to find herself flat on her back, yowling and screeching with feral savagery as the dog fox leapt upon her and began to nip at her all over, gnawing playfully on her legs as they kicked and thrashed, nuzzling at her belly and the rows of rigid nipples protruding through the white fur. And finally nipping at her neck, deep growls escaping him as the vixen continued to vocalise, but fell limp in submission to her mate.

The two fell silent, and indeed a similar quiet to that which had surrounded them by the Naiad's stream seemed to surround them and them alone, like they slipped into a whole other world as they lay there together on the forest floor. The dog fox lifted his head from his mate's neck, and his snout roamed down the length of her body once more. Sniffing. Seeking. Homing in on the source of a single scent that suddenly consumed him, and gave focus to the driving urge that he knew so well. He set eyes upon her vulva. Swollen. Flushed, and glistening already. The scent drove him wild. His eyes rolled as he sniffed it, and a yelp of hunger escaped the vixen herself. The dog fox growled, feeling his hips bucking uncontrollably against the air, and plunged his face into his mate's hindquarters, beginning to run his rough tongue sharply over the source of that heavily scented and intoxicating dampness.

Whining and writhing on the ground, the vixen's hips thrashed from side to side as she was licked by her mate. His tongue was so focused. So driven in its pursuit against that particular point of her body, where all the tension and heat and instinct of her entire being seemed to be focused right now. Her four legs flailed and paddled upside down through the air, hind limbs drumming lightly against the forehead and ears of the dog fox, but doing nothing to dissuade him. It was only when a sharp, keening whine tore through the air, and a small flood of juices from the vixen caused the dog fox to draw back in shock, nostrils flaring at the rich scent now coating the lips of his muzzle as he licked at them with gusto, that the vixen realised she needed more.

Scrambling to her feet, the female fox pushed her head and forelimbs close to the earth as she turned to face her mate. Whining and whimpering, she submitted to him, rolling over then back onto her legs, keeping her lower body raised and hips waving all the time. Her tail remained low not to diguise what she was seeking to advertise, but to show the dog fox that she was totally submissive to him. That all he needed to do in order to have her, was take her. Of course, they'd played this game hundreds of times. They had been mated many seasons prior to this, and had raised cubs together more than once. But instinct commanded her to act as much as affection for this particular fox. Just as she knew that the same instincts would drive him to respond to her display, as much as to her.

Screeching howls rang out around the forest as the male claimed dominance over his mate, nuzzling at her panting face where it rested against the leaf litter, before encircling her body and nipping at her flanks with his teeth. He soon found himself behind her, nosing beneath her tail and inhaling that intoxicating aroma once more. Between his legs, he could feel he was ready. Engorged. Rigid. Desperate to find that warm crevice that his tongue had teased and tasted, and press himself inside of it. To breed the vixen. To mate her. But... in a way that was unlike anything the fox had known before, to do so much more than that simple physical act seemed to require. He knew how to perform in this particular act. But his prior memories were short, if pleasant. No matter how many times he bred this female, each occasion would only last seconds at least, short minutes at most. This time though, that would be different. Everything would be different. The fox didn't know why. He didn't know how. But both he, and his mate too, could sense that something about this occasion was vitally different.

He pushed off from the ground with his forelimbs, and they landed on the lower back of the vixen with a deep growl from him, and a yelp from her. She shuffled forward a step or two, not to escape but to solidify her stance, and he shuffled with her. The dog fox kept on shuffling, scooting his way closer to his mate, feeling his forelimbs slide down around her sides and draw back to grip her around the hips. He felt her tail dragging between them, grazing the bare, exposed flesh of his rigid member as it pulled out of the way, flagging off high and to the side to grant the male the access he needed. Two tongues lolled out. Two throats let sharp, fevered whines escape them. Two bodies trembled, and two sets of nether regions burned with pleasure of a clarity and intensity that these wild animals had never been able to truly comprehend, or appreciate like they could right now.

They didn't just need to breed. They wanted to. And so, with a few urgent, searching thrusts of the dog fox's hips, they did.

Finding his mark, the male struck it hard. With his hind legs scrabbling against the ground, his upper body lying over the vixen's back and their similar size almost making it impossible for him to find purchase with his paws, the dog fox held his member inside of the vixen's vagina. He felt her all around him. Hot. Wet. Tight. She squeezed him. Rubbed and massaged him. He yelped, and she whined back, craning her neck around and trying to lick at his face as she panted in primal excitement. Each time the male's length strained, it ground itself against the intimate flesh within the vixen. Touched her in a way no other act could. Made her feel. Made her want with ever greater urgency.

The vixen barked and snapped her teeth as the male began to thrust. His hips humped at her hindquarters, barely drawing any of his length out of her before jabbing it sharply back in again. His clawed forelimbs scratched at her hips, but she didn't care. If anything she relished it. All of it. Any sensation the male was to provide her with right now, alongside the intense wonder of his shaft pumping and throbbing in and out within her. Amidst a flurry of hormones and instincts, it was easy to consider how any act of breeding could feel like the greatest thing in the world as it took place. Particularly one on an occasion when both foxes seemed so worked up. But truly, this time there was something very different about the sensations they were sharing. Not just how strongly they surged over and through the foxes, but how the two animals recognised and responded to those feelings. They knew it felt pleasant when the dog fox licked at his own sheath, balls and the red shaft that protruded from within if enough stimulation was provided. They knew it felt good for the vixen or indeed the dog fox to lick at her own nether regions. But before today, had they ever truly understood what it meant to feel that kind of good? To experience that kind of visceral, physical, sexual pleasure?

Likely not. Today though, they felt it. And they understood it for what it was. Feeling a deep, visceral craving for it to persist, and to grow, and to be shared violently between them.

Yelping and whimpering, the two foxes' haste and intensity grew beyond any limitations they had felt existed between them. The vixen hunkered down low to the ground with her upper body, and actively pushed herself back against the hammering strokes of the dog fox's rapidly jerking hips. They rocked against one another, and even in the furious midst of their mating, somehow found time between howls and snarls to stretch their necks out and nuzzle, and lick, and whine happily for the other fox to hear. They didn't just want to feel good themselves, they wanted their mate to know that they were making them feel good, and to make sure they were making their mate feel good too.

With every thrust, both foxes could feel the male's member beginning to swell around its base. The dog fox's knot was engorging within the vixen as he bred her, the physical sensations building to greater and greater heights and bringing him ever closer to becoming locked inside her. They both knew that moment was coming, and welcomed it with louder whines and piercing howls that echoed through the forest, yet seemed to go unheard, not un-roosting a single bird nor sending so much as a mouse scampering away from the passionately entwined pair.

The moment finally came, and the rapid, wet slapping of intimate flesh against intimate flesh grew deeper and more vibrantly rich in tone as the dog fox found himself unable to decouple from this mating. He didn't try of course, but his thrusts actually became faster and more free and fierce as he realised that he was knotted within his mate. There was no slipping loose now. No accidentally withdrawing and risking spilling a single drop of his virile seed elsewhere. And right now, that was vitally important to the male, for he was on the verge of unleashing that fertile torrent, and hopefully putting another litter of cubs inside his mate's womb.

Before the dog fox could reach the apex of his pleasure though, the knotted girth of his erection dragging itself against his mate's intimate flesh and stretching her nether regions to their limits proved too much for the vixen to handle. Her clawed toes dug into the earth beneath her, and the female's whole body tensed up, her back arching beneath the weight of her mate and her head rising up to the canopy. Her muzzle sprung open, tongue hanging out and strings of hot drool running out towards the ground, and she let loose a strangled, frantic yelp of ecstasy as her inner muscles began to convulse, and surges of hot fluids began to gush out around her mate's swollen knot as she erupted with the most intense and feverishly, noticeably pleasurable orgasm of her entire life.

The vixen's eyes rolled and her howling muzzle grew short of breath as she scrabbled at the ground helplessly with flexing toe-claws. She wiggled her rump and bucked back against the dog fox breeding her, forcing his knot locked inside of her to move and stimulate the inner workings of her vagina even more violently as she climaxed. This feeling. This ecstasy, she could neither bear it, nor consider ever living without it. It was too much, and yet everything she wanted and needed. It was agony, and yet it was heaven. She knew that her mind should not have been able to process this kind of pleasure. Or at least, not appreciate it in the way she was. But the fact that she could appreciate it, and was doing so, made it all the more glorious and impossibly incredible.

And then, just when the vixen thought that she could not experience greater satisfaction, happiness, or physical euphoria, she felt her mate's teeth sinking into the scruff of her neck, and a muffled but savage wail of passion escaping him as his member drove deep, deep into the vixen's clutching passage, and held itself there, trembling and straining, as he began to unload hot ribbons of seed into her. When the dog fox tore his muzzle free from the mouthful of baggy skin and fur he had instinctively snatched at in his frantic bliss, his next howl sang out with such force that it almost totally eclipsed the vixen's own continued yips and whimpers. He held himself still, grinding hard up against the backside of his mate, for maybe ten or fifteen seconds as he filled her. Grunting. Whining. Yelping with each potent ejaculation; each opportunity to breed his companion. He too knew that this was a very special climax. A feeling he relished for its physical intensity as much as, if not far more than, its instinctive purpose.

It took a little time though, longer than it should have considering the usual length of the foxes' sexual peaks, for the pair to realise that there was something else very different happening here. It occurred to the male about twenty seconds after he had begun to fill the vixen with his seed, as his hips started to thrust again, and with each renewed, rough hump at the female in which he was locked, he felt himself continuing to shoot his thick, potent essence. The vixen too soon realised that to her amazement, the powerful waves of her orgasmic high were not fading. Not lessening or waning to nothing, but persisting, perhaps even continuing to build as they crashed over her with relentless force, one after the next after the next.

She wailed, screeching and yowling to her mate in amazement, and he growled happily back at her. They could already feel their shared fluids beginning to drip out from between them, the knot belonging to the dog fox not enough to entirely seal away his seed, and a rich, heavily scented combination of their ejaculate beginning to drip down and trickle over their trembling thighs and hind legs. With every passing second, more and more of those juices were added to that potent and intimate cocktail. Every pulse and convulsion. Every ejaculation. Every howl and shudder of ecstasy the two wild animals shared in brought new floods of their intimacy together within the hot, squeezing depths of the vixen.

After a couple of minutes of non-stop orgasm, not knowing how or why this was happening, but too consumed by their own shared lust to care, the vixen's hind legs gave out beneath her. She wailed as she sank forward to the ground, muzzle open and panting with a rather dazed, pleasure-stricken expression as her hind legs splayed out behind her, and she felt the dog fox's own body collapsing over hers, struggling to find a position to continue driving his hips against hers. He was tireless, and so was she. Her legs may have fatigued from carrying the male's weight, but her body as a whole was as vital and eager to receive his seed and his pleasure as ever.

An hour later, the vixen lay on her back. Her muzzle was nuzzling at that of her mate as he lay over her, their bodies pressed together and his hot breath washing over her face as he continued to pump wave after wave of cum into her. All four of her legs were wrapped tightly around him, and she yelped with mindless glee as she too continued to cum; to indulge in her mate's unceasing stimulation of her intimate regions and the convulsions of her innermost depths around his rigid length and engorged, sensitive knot. They licked each other. They whined and yipped happily in amazement and joy at one another. They looked into the other fox's eyes, and saw mirrored back at them the wondrous, limitless passion that was driving them onward with no sign of stopping. Not an hour ago. Not now. Not in the hours to come, or conceivably far, far beyond.

***************

On a grassy hillside, rain pelting down all around at the forest's edge, the two foxes wrestled and humped happily, yelping and nipping at each other as their soaking wet fur was stained by the muddy earth beneath them and they continued to writhe and whimper in unceasing bliss. A gust of wind sent the rain cascading almost horizontally against them, and they yelped together as they rolled over and over, clutching with their paws and locked together by the male's thick knot. A flurry of red, gold and fiery orange autumn leaves swept past, caught up in the wind, and the two foxes settled once more as the wind died down, vixen astride her mate, bucking and humping down against his rigid erection with howls of glee.

In a warm den beneath the roots of a large oak, hidden away from the snow outside, the pair panted in the heated exertion of their intense mating. The dog fox bred his mate hard from behind, one of her hind legs cocked to spread herself open and let him buck and grind at her all the more forcefully. Each time he pressed his knotted shaft as deep into the vixen as it could reach, their hips desperately pushing against one another to seek the tiniest bit of extra stimulation, a spray of shared fluids gushed out from beneath his swollen, glistening balls as they slapped against the base of her nether regions. Their snarling and desperately happy barks filled their den as they had for more than a month already, and would continue to until next they felt like venturing out into the cold, and relishing the cool snow against their bodies as they mated.

Amidst spring sunshine, with birds chirping and rabbits hopping around them like they weren't even there, the two foxes lay almost totally still. Soft, tender growls came from their muzzles, and their eyes fluttered, almost unable to remain shut as they indulged solely in the comfort of one another's presence. Lying flat, the dog fox spread out like a blanket over his mate, they let their bodies twitch, and throb, and cum, without any effort or motion on their part. They just relished in the closeness of their mate. Of the fox who, as far as they knew, was wholly responsible for these last seasons of supreme, unending ecstasy. The male's cum poured out into the vixen, and her juices gushed over his member once again, and with only the slightest involuntary twitch of his hips, they whined joyously to one another, heads rising just enough to bump their noses together with an affectionate little lick before sinking down to rest once more.

The longer the Naiad's gift to the foxes was shared, and indulged in, the more strongly they felt not only the pleasure and its physiological effects, but its influence on their minds and hearts too. They were still wild beasts at heart. Animals in the purest sense of the word. But they appreciated pleasure. They longed, they craved, they had desires even within their eternally orgasmic world. The vixen loved to be on her back, and the dog fox to wrestle and play as they mated. And the more they shared in their endless union, and indulged one another with those particular acts whenever possible and whenever the mood struck them, the more the strength of their feeling for one another grew too. Beyond a biological imperative to protect and claim. Beyond the carnal desire for companionship and a virile breeding partner. Beyond even the loyalty of repeated mateship and the raising of litters as parents.

Destined to embody the fertility and passion of all wild creatures for as long as the Naiad protected this forest, the force that compelled these foxes to mate on and on and endlessly on would cease to be simply a matter of biology, or even one of physical lust. The driving urge that possessed them now, was nothing more, and nothing less, than visceral, natural, and wholly true love.

By Jeeves