I'll pop in and out for a quick visit!
Remembering the first time you slept with someone--it doesn't always happen quickly!
I had only known Bruce for a few days before I started spending the nights perched in the tree that grew over his sett's main entrance. He thought of it as his tree, and at the beginning so did I, which is why I asked him for permission. "If some of those owls aren't using it," I remember saying, "I wouldn't mind. I mean, if they wouldn't mind, I certainly wouldn't mind. Would you mind?" I was a bit nervous; he liked birds, but badgers are close enough cousins to weasels that I found him very intimidating. And the tree is still there, which is good, but its long-term prospects are not so good. It's held up better than I expected it would, what with something like me living amongst its roots now, slowly poisoning it.
Anyway, we met in the summer thanks to his friend, Xander. Autumn came around, and it started getting colder, so Bruce let me go underground to spend nights there in the sett. I think he's the one who brought it up, as opposed to me asking if it'd be alright. I was surprised at how much space there was, down underground. I guess I'd just imagined a pit with stairs until I'd gone into it. I had my own side room for a while, with its own entrance that he dug out for me.
Then winter came along, and it got colder still. Most of my lower half is all snake, which makes it rough to be up and moving around when it's cold. Despite his fur, Bruce feels the cold as well. My upper half is feathered, which makes for good pillows, and I thought that'd be a selling point for letting me den up with him. But I didn't have to work hard to win him over because as I discovered, as Xander knew well, Bruce likes his birds.
It was the third night after we'd started sharing a small room, trying to conserve warmth. The first night, I remember it being very hard to drift off to sleep; we'd start out facing away from each other, and I'd make an effort to curl up my tail to keep it mostly away from him, but at some point he'd roll over, put his arm across my shoulder, and start grabbing the feathers on my shoulders and neck and mumbling to himself.
The second night, he started breathing across the back of my neck, and would nestle his face against my comb as well as grab at the dangly parts under my beak. I started thinking more about what it'd be like to get "active" with him, if you know what I mean.
So, the third night, when he started grabbing and nuzzling, and upped the ante by trapping my tail between his legs as he snuggled up against me from behind, I thought "Well let's go." I slithered a bit lower, so my tail was pinned between his knees instead of up tight against his crotch to make it easier to bend and curl it back up so the tip when between his butt cheeks. The tip of my tail isn't the most sensitive spot I've got, and curling it around like that sort of screws up any fine control I'd have of it, but I was wriggling it around, squirming it deeper into the crack and under his stubby furry tail, when he stopped playing with my wattles and reached back, grabbed the end, and guided the tip right to his hole.
"Oh, you're...awake," I said.
"Hard to sleep with feathers tickling my ass," he said, and nipped my comb lightly. There's a little patch of feathers that grow off the end of my tail, but I've lost quite a few of them as I aged. Otherwise, I would have encouraged him to keep on pushing it in deeper!
He squeezed my tail between his legs. "I was starting to worry you weren't really into guys at all, like Xander thought. You were so hesitant and fearful," he said. "Or I thought it was the whole 'weasel-types' thing, like we talked about. Even though I'm not a weasel!"
"Well, that doesn't bother me as much anymore. Not with you." To this day, I still flinch a bit when I meet any mustelids; something about not being able to stare them down like anyone else gets to me. "And I wasn't sure if you were doing all that kind of reaching and groping and stuff in your sleep. I didn't want to assume."
"Your tail gets in the way; do you know that? I would have tried fitting up against you from behind and started right on up inside under your...well, where your tailfeathers would be if you were built more like a normal bird. If we can find a different position, I'll pop in and out for a quick visit! How's about that?"
The euphemism made me laugh. He's liked double entendre almost as much as birds.
I tried to play along. "It's a relief having it out in the open," I said as I groped around behind myself, finding his penis right away. I gave it a squeeze. "Sure."
The next few moments concerned a few statements, negotiations, and promises. I think I can summarize it as follows: His sett, his rules; he likes being on top more, and I'll get my turn soon enough. (And I certainly did!)
He was certainly everything I was hoping for that night. First, we were both on all fours, and he was behind me with my tail across his shoulder and back while he spread something across my butthole, occasionally poking his fingers around inside. "Maybe I ought to buy another bottle of this stuff," he said as he paused to fondle me. "It's my favorite lube, and we might be using it up before too much longer. Better stock up on condoms, too!" As it turned out, the condoms ran out before the lube did...but that's another story.
We tried having him stand up behind me, hugging my thick tail against his chest while he started pushing his cock inside, but the height difference between me on all fours and him either on his knees or crouching made it tricky for him to get a good angle without it starting to make his legs cramp up. He wasn't kidding when he said it gets in the way. But that position still is my favorite way to have him take me, though, and it works well now that we've invested in some conveniently sized furniture.
The arrangement that we made work turns out to be his favorite when we do things the other way around, but it was just what we needed that first time. I was on my back, legs spread, and he straddled my tail and sometimes sat on it, sometimes hovered over it with his hands across my chest or on either side of me. He'd push himself in, thrust a few times, and stop because I started making all kinds of loud squawks and hissing sounds.
"Are you all right? Does that hurt?"
"It's great, IT'S GREAT!" I finally put my hands around his shoulders and pinned him against my chest. "If I let go of you, that means you should stop. Get started again!"
So he did. There's nothing like a dick up your ass, and there's especially nothing like a dick up your ass when the man attached to it is someone where "falling in love" doesn't sound as corny as it usually does.
In love? Me? I'm a very rare, very dangerous monster and the ones that aren't in danger from being around me are usually weasels, and I usually have trouble standing being around them for too long. Him? Quite familiar with many, many fine feathered friends. But a relationship really started that night, I don't think I could manage without him.
It helped a lot that he really knows what he's doing when he gets down to business. He'd still pause, drawing things out and preventing himself from climaxing; he apparently either got used to all the noises I was making, or believed me when I told him I'd hang on until there was a problem.
When he let himself build up to his release, it was just in time. My ass was starting to get raw, and my legs were a little tired, but it felt so good to have him deep inside when he started throbbing. He grunted, squeezed my tail hard between his legs and bit my shoulder as he pounded and shot his load right up inside. I croaked and held him against me as his orgasm subsided, and continued holding him against myself as I slowly rolled over to the side, trying to keep his erection inside me during the transition.
"I'll dig you some space in here to keep some clothes," he said with a yawn, and fell asleep.