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The sun is a beautiful, but sometimes uncomfortable thing for those of us who are not fortunate enough to have seasonal pelt changes. I felt a trickle of moisture run down the small of my back to be absorbed by my pack and made a mental note to schedule hiking for a different season next time.

As I glanced up from the sight of my feet on the path, I watched a larger pack bobbing in the air a few feet ahead. Unable to help myself, I let out a small, slow smile. This other pack you see, was attached to the back and shoulders of my other half. Broad and tawny were those shoulders, and half covered with an impressive volume of dark mane fur that happened to run from the tip of his head, all down his chest in the typical fashion of a Barbary lion.

Toeing a root while ogling, I stumbled and let out a muffled curse at my own clumsiness. By the time I managed to right myself, Morgan had turned back to check on me, his eyes so dark that I couldn't quite make out whether he was about to laugh at me or about to sneeze. I figured on the former when his muzzle started to split into a smile.

"We're almost there, I promise," was all he said at first. Those words had been like the proverbial carrot to me for the last half hour or so. Though I'm quite used to walking, and even light hiking, this is the first trip we'd made with full packs for an overnight stay.

"Want me to take your pack a while?" came his voice again.

"Absolutely not!" I called with a laugh, "But maybe I should walk in front so that I won't be so easily distracted!"

His laughter was almost as quick as his response, "Too much admiring the view and not enough watching the path, eh? What am I going to do with you?" He shook out his mane, attempting to dislodge some of the afternoon heat and I couldn't help but smile back at him, my whiskers flaring merrily.

"I'm sure you could come up with a few ideas at least," I shot back, halfway over the hip-high fallen log and struggling to swing my other leg over. "How on earth did you get over this?" I asked, "I was too busy watching the path to see it." I struggled a bit more, the pack weighing me down just enough that my aching muscles strained to do more than a straight march. I was thoroughly stuck now, astride a large, mossy and half rotten trunk. Crossing my arms, I huffed at the trunk muttering under my breath at it's habit for blocking pathways and stranding poor, height challenged females. "Perhaps it's a time honoured hunting tradition of logs everywhere. Perhaps they raise themselves at the sight of a skirt in hopes of trapping one."

It was a full minute or so before I realized that Morgan hadn't been answering me, and I liftrd my head to seek him out in earnest. Surprised, I found him standing right where he had been, simply watching me with those dark eyes.

"It that's the case, then I applaud the method," came his too soft reply. It was then that I noticed he no longer wore the heavy straps of his pack, having abandoned it a few feet ahead. Reaching out, he wrapped his paws around the bottom of my pack, lifting some of the weight free as I leaned forward to swing my second leg over to join the first. Or at least that was what I intended.

I didn't quite make it as far as I had hoped, Morgan stepping in far too close, too quickly, leaving my hindpaw scraping at the old bark and moss, my knee rubbing the top of the trunk. I lowered my ears as he dropped the weight of the pack, huffing under the sudden heaviness and leaning forward to compensate. Next came the warm breath on my ear, murmuring softly as if not willing to disturb the peace of the woods, "Thought of something." His paw nudged at my shoulder, pushing both the pack and myself to lean forward, "To help your concentration level," he added.

I felt it then as he stepped up against my back, the rub of his knee against the back of mine, one of his paws at the waist of my shorts, the other already slipping into my tied back hair. Panting against the nape of my neck, I felt my mate stirring, pushing at my clothing to bare himself and I. I Felt too the fumbling brush of the back of his paw and the metallic rasp of his belt and fly followed by the hushed sound of fabric falling.

I closed my eyes and breathed in the delicious scent of maleness that always seemed to accompany Morgan, murring softly at his sudden change in mood.

"Mmm, that's my girl," was the next quiet sound at my ear, right as I felt his paw rub up the inside of my thigh. I couldn't help myself; never could where Morgan was concerned. I shifted and leaned forward over the thick moss, struggling to remove the bulky pack and sighing in relief as it hit the soft ground. the big, work-roughened paw on my back kept me from rising again and drew a small, curious growl from me.

"No peeking love, just feel," his voice rumbled at me from behind. It was torture to keep my eyes from wandering, and I fought the idea at first. His answer to my rebellion didn't come in words, instead sliding a thick finger through my already damp folds in silent command. Each time I turned my head to try and glance his way, he would stop, only allowing me to feel his touch without the sight of him.

Already I could feel his arousal tapping erratically against the curve of my backside. A little spot of warmth that disappeared and reappeared in slightly different places as he leaned over my bent form. Growling down at me, he worked his fingertip past my entrance, soliciting a throaty gasp from me. I could even feel the slight puff of his breath against the back of my shoulder as he applied more pressure to my back with his stationary paw. Grunting, he shifted behind me, the front of his thighs moving in against the back of mine. I shuddered, hard, knowing what was coming next, my senses already heightened in anticipation.

"Gods," was all my ears heard as he lined himself up, spreading my folds with his tip before rushing to fill me with his length. I gasped and shivered under the onslaught, pinned lightly in place and speared. It was always like this with us, all instinct and no pretense. He didn't move at first, simply holding me down, full of his cock as if to make sure I was quite aware of what he'd just done. He withdrew, drawing a heartfelt moan of regret from me the likes I'd never heard, only to shove back in so sharply that the rings on his pierced sack clicked together. I drew in a breath, and then another as he began in earnest.

It was barely a minute or more before I felt his paw lift from my back, bracing instead on the tree trunk by my muzzle, his other palm sliding around my hip to find my core with his fingers. Panting under the deliciously sharp thrusts of his hips against my backside, I yowled in appreciation at that oh so delicious contact; his thumb-pad against my most sensitive flesh, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles. His pace changing, he snarled into the air at the back of my neck, licking up my nape over and over in the time honoured way of all male felines until he'd had enough coaxing and made it an all out command, his teeth closing on my scruff with a firm growl.

That did it. More than did it actually. Between his wild bucking, the thumb against me and the teeth on my neck, I couldn't help but let my eyes roll in bliss and shattered with pleasure. I soaked his fur with evidence of his success, screaming a feral feline roar as he drove into me over and over. So tense I was under him that I almost missed his own roar and the telltale press and pulse of him seeding me. It wasn't until I started to melt that I could truly appreciate the soft throbbing of his shaft, and the little nibbling licks against the side of my neck.

"Mmm mine," was the sound that filled my ears then, louder and even more welcome than the just past roars. I shivered again, for very different reasons this time and he wrapped me close in his arms, pulling slowly free, letting me feel every inch of his softening flesh against mine. Knowing how much I loved to hear him make that particular claim, he repeated it again, whispering against my dark ear in between breathy pants.

It was some minutes before either of us stirred at all, even as uncomfortable as it might have looked to an outsider. I lifted my chin from the mossy cushion and twisted to nuzzle at his cheek, giving him a very soft, and exceptionally tender lick.

"Love you," I whispered against his cheek, "But we have to go make camp. I like the log and all, but I don't want to spend the whole week making cubs on a log." After some grunting and shuffling, we both rose and dusted bits of bark and moss from each other, smiling like two happy fools.

"True enough, we have all week to get cubs in lots of different places. Shall we try somewhere different each time?" he jokingly asked, "Perhaps beside the log? and then at the end of the log?" He reached for me then, teasing as if to pull me down for another round right then.

"Oh I'm sure I can think of something more exciting. I've never mated in a tent before!" I called over my shoulder, already a few feet ahead and hoping to entice Morgan into following. I flicked my tail his way, "Mind your step though, the path is... distracting."