Pairs of Pumpkins Episode 5:

The Uncleanable Palette

"You want to get out of here?"

Jesco's eyes were wide. Unbelieving. He took a moment to make sure he processed the words correctly over the bustle of the crowded bar. They'd only been talking as long as the time for her to start and finish her last two drinks but the words had not been quiet or unclear and he nodded slowly in some disbelief. The giant-breasted, tired-looking , ivory-furred vixen smiled and placed her hand on his shoulder, then slipped off the bar stool, brushing fur and leather against him to stand. His own leather pants audibly creaked as they strained with the formative erection creeping down his thigh towards his knee.

The young stallion man's gaze was locked on her massive, perfect chest, cupped in her molded leather armor. Those tremendous breasts took up so much space on her torso and between her arms yet she carried them with strength and grace, although the four tankards of mead he'd seen her drink over the last hour made that grace a little less steady. She was leaning on his shoulder now, steadying herself as she tossed a pair of silver coins on the bar top, paying for the both of them.

It was too good to believe for the nineteen-year old City Watchman trainee: Portia Pridemoon, the famed adventuress with the famously huge breasts was touching his shoulder. He'd still been a child when he heard from his cousin in Stonebrook about the impossibly beautiful vixen and some other guy who purged the town of a malignant haunting. She was also said to have fought in several famous mercenary wars years ago, which she had confirmed during her third drink. There were also stories that she pulled off heists against various corrupt nobles and merchants all over the land and was likely quite wealthy as a result but she had a practiced cageyness about any questions where breaking the law may have been involved. Otherwise, the vixen had been charming and pleasant, with little hesitation to talk about herself or her many well-known deeds. He could listen to her exciting tales of adventure for hours but what was most important now is that this hero of renown wanted to leave this inn. With him. Right now.

"D... do you have a room here?" He stood quickly and stood against her, oblivious to the jealous eyes of other men that surrounded them.

"I do but my kids are up there. Let's just go in the alley," Portia whispered into his ear, her wet nose bumping the tender, thin flesh and cartilage. She wrapped her hand in his and started toward the door.

"You have a kid?!"

"I do," she said flatly. "Tons of 'em. The oldest probably aren't much younger than you."

"Aren't?"

The busty vixen stopped, halfway to the door and turned to him, mashing her chest against his, muzzle to muzzle, her eyes hard and serious. "I said I have tons of them. If that isn't a deal-breaker for you, why don't we put a cork in this topic if you want to pop your cork in me. I don't want to talk about my kids on my way to fuck a stranger in the alley. Got it?"

* * *

Jesco had gotten it.

Now Portia Pridemoon, vixen of great renown was bent over a barrel in the alley beside the bar, where the smell was a different kind of sour and he knew in the darkness, lurked chittering rats. He'd suggested finding somewhere cleaned a moment before while she'd been sucking and stroking his cock but she had stood, scaring him for a moment that she might leave but she defiantly grabbed the nearest, spare keg and draped herself over it, presenting herself. Portia's elbows were together, mashed into her cleavage and fingers intertwined in fists, hanging over the top of the barrel while she looked back expectantly.

"What do you want me to do to you?" the young stallion stepped up, his glistening horse cock swinging straight in front of him under its own weight, aimed right at her. He was fully dressed otherwise, as was she, though they'd both tossed their heavier weapons aside beforehand.

The vixen gave a frustrated sigh, shifting her boots on the cobbletone. "You've done this before right? Just put it in me and move it back and forth til semen comes out."

Jesco nodded quickly and stepped up behind her, planting his hands on shape of her thick rump, draped in leather strips that form her skirt. He pushed it up, exposing more thigh first, then her gluteal cleft and the plump peach of her eager sex. The white fur that surrounding it was clumped and spikey with wetness, her pink prize that might normally be hidden in fur splitting a line in the whiteness, demanding attention. Finally, her big, bare, glorious rump was revealed. Powerful, ivory-furred flesh with a white triangle reaching down from the base of her tail, sculpted from decades of walking, running, jumping and kicking ass and now his cock was hovering right behind it.

His palms flipped the skirt up to double the flaps over her lower back before he moved his hands to her cheeks, spreading them and exposing her tight, puckered prize to night air. He deliberated for a moment, staring at the clenched muscle, hypnotized by it for a moment. The inexperienced stallion was entranced for the moment by the forbidden prize and a small shift of his hips angled his cock slightly further up, wobbling eagerly. She'd probably be fine with it if she was about to fuck him in a filthy alley but he didn't want to push his luck.

Portia huffed audibly and swung her attention over her shoulder. "What's taking so long back there?"

Jesco nodded and took a grip on the end of his erection, steadying it as he guided himself against her wetness and with a glance up to her for approval, started to push inside of her, spreading her sex open around the blunted plunger of his equine cockhead, entering her with a soft squelch.

A heavy breath pushes out from her lungs in joy and relief, followed by a trembling inhale. "Mmmm, that's lovely. You're a big boy." A tension released from her and she shifted her feet wider apart then relaxed her hands enough to take a grip on the edge of the barrel.

"Your pussy is so hot and tight, Portia!" Jesco marveled with boyish excitement. The vixen gave a small sigh at the mediocre pillow talk but he was pushing inside her deeper still and an unconscious groan escaped to distract her. He wasn't bad, she told herself. Just inexperienced. Of course, Joseph had been a virgin and had conducted himself with more grace and tact.

Stop thinking about Joseph!

"Mmmm, yeah. Give me that horse dick," she looked back and reached for him but he was still too far away, so much equine meat spanning between their bodies still. The vixen rested her hand atop his contently and he pushed in deeper, encouraged until over half of him was stuffed inside the panting vixen. "More!" she barked and he carefully obliged, sure he was going to find her limit before their hips would join. She was a fox and not meant for his shape or size but the gap between them was disappearing quickly without her protesting. Deeper and deeper, he sank into her body to her straining breaths until it was finally gone.

"Holy shit, Miss Portia! I can't believe you took the whole thing!" He mashed his hips against her for emphasis, feeling his girth enveloped by her entirely.

Of course she could. The vixen had an unabashed appetite for over-endowed men and a body that wasn't satisfied with anything less. She didn't know how she could take them so deep but she'd learned long ago that it was unusual for her species. Of course, so were the sizes of the cocks in her family, which she now knew she could also take.

The cramped, tension of her organs around her pelvis and whatever else was being displaced beyond as his length impaled her to a depth enough to straighten her lower spine. She was built for this and she'd known for over two decades: small partners simply didn't do it for her and equines could generally be trusted to be reliably endowed. There was discomfort in the pleasure but that only made the sensations more visceral to her. Sex and the forbidden strain of being too full of a lover was exhilarating for the ambitious vixen. Only recently had she felt anything a different level of that, a true connection of body and soul that she hadn't imagined possible but that had been an accident she needed to forget about and she'd been trying at every opportunity.

Stop thinking about Joseph!

"Go on! Fuck me. Fuck me with the whole thing! Fuck me...." Her words trailed off. She was sure he'd told her at some point but she couldn't remember his name. The handsome colt been another young guy eager to hear her tell stories while he stared at her chest. She'd been doing this for years, though not as often as she had been lately and certainly not usually this young.

He nodded and drew back before slamming himself into her with his young man enthusiasm, tipping the barred at once and pushing a wide-eyed, sucking gasp out of the vixen. "Unnnghhh, fuck! Yes! Fuck me hard!" She'd tried doing it slow and sweet in the past few weeks but the men she tried with were all too clumsy. Now she just wanted to feel something as intense as the connection she'd had with Joseph. Before she had discovered their other connection, of course.

Jesco obliged, his reservations fading at her writhing eagerness and he drew back to slam again then again, slow but hard and harder with every thrust, his thick, black flesh piston glistening between their bodies in the sliver of moonlight that cut the alleyway. He was testing her limits at first but found none and now he was fucking like none of his past lovers had probably ever let him. He grabbed her tail for purchase and tugged her back into his next thrust, the tipping barrel rocking forward then falling back to the cobblestone with a heavy thud.

Fox claws dug into the barrel's edge now as Portia hung on dearly, content to let the eager, young man do the work and finding some relief from the tension in the violent and deep thrusting. She was tough and experienced in both battle and the bedroom and there was nothing he could do to her that was too much. He was maybe being a little careful still, thinking he might find her limits. He was fit and eager, a lover with potential but he was younger and inexperienced, something she'd mostly avoided for the past few years but there had been something magical about the youthful enthusiasm of Jo... stop it!

It was unlike her for her mind to be so active during sex but she caught herself looking back down the alley to the street. There were a pile of crates and barrels that looked to be in decent condition, compared to the state of the rest of the alley. Were they back here because they were garbage or for some neglected storage?

She was stuffed, straining full of horse cock and she felt her stomach tightening while it displaced her insides but it wasn't scratching her itch. It didn't used to be this hard to find pleasure from a lover. She shifted her angle slightly, bringing her pelvis against the edge of the barrel to mash her clitoris into the lip of it through the thick leather of the front of her skirt, hoping to help herself get off.

"Unnnnh! Fuck! Fuck!" His pace was quickening and his vigor unrelenting. He was slamming against her and hilting inside of her again and again. She was panting hard with the strain, her heavy breasts trying to escape her breastplate but the custom piece had been engineered to hold them with the resilience of a mountain. As a frequent combatant reliant on her agility over strength, she needed all that weight and soft flesh to be perfectly predictable. The rigid, molded top helped in these occasions too, to keep them from hitting herself in the face when a lover was as enthusiastic as this one.

"I didn't think you'd be such a slut!"

The word was barely finished before the vixen's index finger was in his face, pressing the on tip of his nose. She had twisted herself around so quickly it was alarming and she growled with menace under narrowed eyes. "You don't talk to lovers like that unless they ask you to. It's disrespectful. Especially to someone nice enough to fuck you."

He was frozen, terrified, half-buried inside her and she could feel him soften slightly before he nodded quickly and shamefully. "Sorry, Miss Portia. I won't do it again."

"To anyone. Ever."

Jesco nodded quickly, head low and her expression softened with a small concession. He started to draw back but with a quickness equal to the slap, she dug her fingers into the collar of his breastplate and ripped him back against and inside her. "Now finish the job," she barked. Wide-eyed, he nodded and started to thrust again, soft and apologetically. "Pull my hair and fuck me hard," she commanded and he obliged, gripping her pony tail and ramming himself into her. She squealed out and nodded quickly before he continued, channeling his shame into a productive spite, knocking her forward and the barrel out from under her! She fell forward but caught herself against the brick wall with her palms and her cheek and it left a gap between them for only a moment.

The eager stallion was on her again, hips bucking relentlessly as he hunched over her, hands dropping to her waist and tugging her hard, back into his angry, needful thrusts. He was over the chastising and perhaps even wanted to humble her now but it was finally intense enough to hold her focus for more than a few moments.

The dull thuds of furry hips on furry ass sounded through the alley, drowning out the wetter sounds from up close. The vixen was growing more vocal in her cries of strain and pleasure while the grunting equine kept most of his noises to ecstatic grumbles and curses. His bigger, stronger body slammed against hers with desperate need but she held fast, a rocky shore against the crashing tide.

"I'm gonna... fuck!" Jesco bucked his hips and hilted himself in her triumphantly. Wide-eyed, Portia felt the eruption of semen blast deep inside her, a first wave of a volume enough to make her wince and cramp before the second came. That one filled her enough to push some of it past his plunger tip, down along between his length and her canal to gush out from her and smack between her feet in a puddle on the cobblestone. A third wave pushes another surge out of her and she winced with the momentary strain before it displaced. Several more gushes followed but only two more escaped before the young horse slumped over his older, vixen lover, planting his trembling arms against the wall above her. "That... holy shit. That was amazing."

In his shadow, the vixen nodded quickly. "Yeah. You're kind of crushing me though."

The colt nodded and backed away slowly, carefully drawing his softening length out of her until it fell free, uncorking the biggest gush of semen yet. Like a pint glass that had been tipped over, cum splashed the insides of her boots and thighs. She gave a heavy sigh as she heard the messy splatter rain on her fur and clothes and she hoped to remember to clean it up. The vixen was sweating from the strain and exertion and was relieved to have had the sensations of sex but she hadn't cum. Maybe if he'd lasted longer, she could have but only with the vigor in which he fucked her at the end. It shouldn't have been this difficult. It used to not be this difficult.

"What now?" he said, shaking off his wet, limp but still thick shaft, slinging wetness and semen from it to the the alley floor before he tucked himself back into his pants. "Did you... finish?"

Portia nodded quickly, pulling herself up the wall to stand again, her knees clearly stiff as she turns to face him. "I did. Thanks. That was very hot but I should be getting up to bed. It was nice to meet you..."

He tilted his head slightly, waiting before giving a small chuckle. "Jesco. It was wonderful to meet you Portia. You did not disappoint the legend." He stepped up toward her expectantly and she dove in for a quick peck on the end of his muzzle.

"Nice to meet you, Jesco. Have a good night." They both stood there for a long moment after, her firm and him unsure. The colt nodded after a long moment and stepped back once, then again. He gave a nervous nod before he turned to leave, clopping off into the night. Portia gave a sigh and sat down on an upturned crate in the alley, looking up the row of second floor windows on the Inn, all of them dark at this hour. Her son and daughter were hopefully still sleeping in one of them but they didn't need her yet.

She leaned back and closed her eyes, slipping her left hand through the flaps of her skirt and finding her wet and tender vixensex. A parade of former lovers filled her mind, recalling back to a time not so long ago when sex was careless, free. For years, she would love them and leave them. Teachers and colleagues in her youth then fellow adventurers for the longest of time. She'd developed a taste for the more ordinary townsfolk as she'd spent more time adventuring on her own, finding them somehow more appreciative than her own, vagabond kind. So many lovers over so many years yet she could not recall such a long and unsatisfying streak than the assorted lovers she'd been taking at every opportunity over the last few weeks.

Touching herself for some time, she finally found the focus to drift off into fantasy and nostalgia for lovers past and not long after, melted, finally into orgasm.

* * *

"Where's Mom?"

Anya Pridemoon, the thick, tall, teenage fox with curiously brown and black coloring and the fourth eldest daughter of Portia Pridemoon, peeked out the second floor window and down into the alley again. The crack made in the curtains allowed some small amount of moonlight to drape over the curves she had inherited from her mother, made taller and thicker from her ursine-infused heritage. She lounged in one of the two beds in the room: this one Portia's while her brother Joseph was in the other one that Mother had forced them to share. "She's down in the bar," she said, her Alto voice silky and singsong.

"Again?!" the sitting, white-furred teenage boy flopped back down on the bed with a huff. "She snuck out when we were sailing out of The Pale Lands and she sneaks out at every inn we stay at. Does she do this every night we're around other people?!"

"You've been with her longer than I have, Joseph but it seems like yes."

"I don't care that Mother likes to drink but why can't she just bring us with her?"

"I don't think she knows how to do this. You know, being a Mother," Anya shrugged. "I think she needs time to herself. Or away from us, anyway." Joseph slumped barely visible on the dark room but his sister noticed and turned towards him with a smile. "Hey, I wouldn't take it personally. Think of how hard it must be for her: you're this free-spirited, vagabond, badass adventuress then you suddenly find out you're the mother to hundreds of children? This wasn't her choice or her fault but she came for us anyway."

"She came for you," Joseph corrected. "She found me by accident."

"She would have come for you. Just like we're coming for our sisters, Evita and Marina in Aldlake or our brother, Edgar in Redwall or the rest of our other brothers and sisters in the ledger. She's doing the right thing, even if it's going to take years. That can't be easy."

Joseph sighed aloud and was quiet for a long moment. "I think she drinks too much. She's tired all the time."

"She does drink a lot. Let's just try to make it easy for her. We should go to bed sooner, so she can have a little more time to actually sleep when she comes back." Anya looked back to the curtained window with a loud sigh.

Her younger brother was quiet for but a moment. "What's she going to do with all of us when she rescues our next two sisters. Or our brother after that? What about when there's ten of us? Twenty? One hundred?"

"I don't think she's thought that far ahead. Barely a month ago she didn't know she had any of us so I think her first priority is making sure that none of her children are slaves or anything. And I think that's what she should be doing."

"I guess." Joseph rolled over on his back to stare at the ceiling.

Anya peeked out the window again, looking for a long moment before releasing the curtain and standing up, hurrying back across the room in the darkness, to the bed with her brother. "Mom's coming! Pretend you're asleep." The teenage vixen scooted into the narrow bed against her brother's huffs of protest.

"You kicked me in the face! Why can't you sleep in Mom's bed?" he grumbles.

"They're small beds, Joseph. We won't both fit. You're skinny. Why don't you sleep in Mother's bed?"

Joseph was quiet for a moment before he pouted: "She won't let me." They both settled in and closed their eyes before the door opened slowly, letting in the noise and light from the hallway. Portia's distinct silhouette slipped through before softly closing it behind her, navigating with some grace despite the alcohol. She moved to the bedside of her son and daughter, looking over them for a long moment before leaning down to kiss Anya's cheek then, at the far end of the bed, Joseph's. Both of their eyes were firmly closed.

The vixen turned away then and undressed to nudity before fetching the nightgown she'd bought in the Pale Lands after rescuing Joseph. It wasn't like her to wear one prior to her new life but she had children now and being prudent around them was important. With a huff, she pulled it over herself, a simple, soft, silk gown to her mid thighs that would have gone much lower on a person with less of a chest. It was tight but it would do until they could find a city with a decent tailor.

Clothed again, Portia sat down on the bed and pulled herself under the covers. Within minutes, she was snoring. Anya turned over to a protesting kick from her brother, before pulling her pillow over her head and eventually, the ragtag and unconventional family all drifted off to sleep.

The End