FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

It was very early morning, a Saturday. Last weekend of July. The peak of summer.

The rising sun, a perfect blood orange just above the horizon, became paler and whiter as it ascended into the clear, blue sky. This caused the long, lingering shadows to slowly shrink.

Emerson noticed those sort of things. The little details that populated the background. The things taken for granted.

Like the symphony of insect noises coming from the pastures and fields.

Cicadas, crickets, katydids.

Bushy tail fluffing about, Charlie looked over her shoulder and asked, "Do they bite?"

The harvest mouse blinked. "Mm?"

"Those noises." The fox squirrel slowed to let him catch up. They were at her family's farm, in the backyard.

"Not really. Though cicadas will buzz your face and scream in your ears if you get too close," the harvest mouse said.

Charlie giggled. "Bugs are so kinky!"

"I guess ... "

As the couple passed under a towering oak and between a pair of walnut trees, their bare foot-paws left prints in the dewy grass. Emerson was about to change the subject when Charlie ran with it.

"Really, though! Like, the ones that eat each other after sex? Mantises. What's up with that?"

"Well ... "

"Don't spiders do that, too?"

"Spiders aren't bugs," Emerson pointed out.

"You know what I meant," the squirrel replied, waving a paw. A grin crept onto her silvery, cinnamon-speckled muzzle. "Though, personally, I'd rather be eaten out than eaten up." She tried to elbow him in the side. "You know what I--"

"Yes." He wriggled away from the jabs. "And we just had breakfast," the mouse reminded.

"So you're not hungry at all, hmm?"

"Not when we've got work to do," he said. "On a deadline, no less."

"So responsible," Charlie said.

"Someone has to be."

"It's a good thing you've got me around to liven things up."

"You're a regular chaos agent," Emerson concurred, stopping as they reached their destination.

The sunflower garden. More than a garden. A small field. Sunflowers of all sizes, shapes, and colors, some in full bloom and some yet to be.

Charlie gestured widely. "Ta-dah!"

"I've seen it before, you know." Ever since he and Charlie had gotten together, he'd been over here quite often. "I spent the night," the golden-furred male stressed.

"Oh. Heh. Right."

Emerson rolled his blue eyes. But smiled, nonetheless.

Charlie's aunt and uncle, Emerson's neighbors, were taking a weekend trip before the rush of harvest season began. So, Charlie had sole run of their farm for a few days, including manning her aunt's booth at the Circleville farmer's market. That was the town over, Arcadia's rival in high school sports. It was also twice as big. That meant three thousand people, but ... hey, that was big in these parts!

Anyway, Charlie had asked for Emerson to come with her.

Actually, she'd 'persuaded' him.

With 'favors.'

On the couch ...

"Was it good for you?" she murmured afterward, rubbing his naked, creamy-white chest. Still on top of him, straddling his hips.

The mouse smiled. "What do you think?"

"You almost burst my eardrums with how high-pitched your squeaks were."

"I did not." He fondled one of her breasts. "Anyway ... you were barking."

"I wasn't barking! Chittering, maybe."

"They were barks."

"So," she said, changing the subject, leaning down to nuzzle noses. "You helping me at the market tomorrow?"

Emerson's whiskers twitched. He sighed, giving his default answer to everything: "I guess ... " Besides, how could he say no after what they just did?

"Great!" Charlie sat up and dismounted, looking around for her undergarments.

The mouse blinked.

"We gotta be there and have our booth set up by eight. Wake me up at six-thirty."

Emerson sat up, running a paw through his head-fur. "You make that sound easy. I put an ice cube on your face the other day and you didn't even stir."

"What? No, you didn't. Think I would've remembered that."

"Should I film it next time?" he asked. Squirrels were heavier sleepers than mice. Maybe a hibernation remnant in their genome?

"What are you gonna make me for breakfast?" Charlie asked brightly, pulling her panties up and tossing the mouse his boxer-briefs.

"Cereal," the mouse replied dryly, catching his clothes.

The squirrel giggled.

Emerson inspected the cushions thoroughly, making sure they didn't leave a mess, paranoid her aunt and uncle would find out.

"They know we're doin' it," Charlie had assured casually, arching back into her shirt.

"Well, knowing and knowing are two different things."

"Next time, we'll just do it outside, then!" Charlie said.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you."

"Yup."

Emerson bit his lip and looked to her.

The squirrel grinned, quirking a brow, swishing her tail.

Fifteen minutes later, they were naked once more, behind the house in the grass beneath the oak, panting and staring at the stars.

"What's your favorite constellation?" Charlie asked.

"Mm." The harvest mouse, folding his arms behind his head, thought for a moment. "The Big Dipper? Looks like it's pouring the sky over the whole earth."

"I'm an Orion gal."

Emerson looked for that one.

"You could see the Milky Way back ... ah, back home," Charlie continued, yawning widely, stretching her entire body It was getting late. "Up north." She paused. "Don't see it here."

"Too much light pollution," he said. They may have been thirty miles from the nearest major city, but it was enough to make the darkness incomplete. Not to mention all the small towns nearby.

"That's America, for you," the Canadian squirrel quipped. "Too much of the wrong things."

"Do you miss it?" Emerson asked.

"The Milky Way?"

"Home."

The squirrel reached for his paw, meshing her fingers with his. "I'm not leaving you, Emmy."

"That wasn't a no."

She just smiled at him, always one to skirt overly emotional topics. Which meant the answer was more complicated than she wanted to admit.

Emerson didn't press.

"Maybe it's your fault."

"What is?"

"The light pollution."

"How?"

"For makin' me glow," she said.

Emerson melted a bit. "Aw ... "

She moved in for a kiss.

He gladly took it, then whispered against her cheek. "I love you."

"Love ya, too, mouse-o."

Emerson pushed the fresh memories aside, clearing his throat and pulling out a pair of clippers. "So, uh, where do we--"

"Start wherever you want! She's got all kinds," Charlie said, of her aunt's sunflowers. "At least a dozen. I forget what they're called. She gave me a cheat sheet." Taking a piece of paper out of her jeans pocket, the squirrel read off some of the names. "White Night, Buttercream, Ring of Fire, Chocolate, Firecracker ... "

"That's all well and good, but how do we know which one is what?"

"Uh ... hmm." Charlie scrunched her brow, putting her paws on her hips.

"Never mind. I'll look it up on my phone," Emerson said, doing just that. After identifying the visual differences in the varieties, he asked, "How many do we need?"

"She said she normally sells about fifty. I'd bring sixty to be safe. Five dollars a pop."

"Five?"

"They're pretty huge, Emmy. Look. This bloom's bigger than my head!"

Emerson chuckled.

"They're getting double bang for their buck, too. They get the flower to decorate with, and when it's wilted, they can save the seeds to eat or plant their own the next year."

"That's true," the mouse said, cutting his first flower.

Charlie snipped a flower. And then another. "Alright, let's get about ten of each color. Like, there are some red ones over there. Yellow, red, white, multi-colored ... and then the really dark ones."

Emerson nodded, continuing to cut. "Sunflowers are surprisingly heavy," he noted.

"Why do think the stems are so thick?" the squirrel noted. She cut another. Suddenly, she frowned and scrunched her muzzle. "Probably would've been smart to back the truck up to the field and then cut the flowers. Would've saved a loading step."

"I'll go get it. Keys are in your bedroom. We're using my truck, right?"

"Yeah."

Emerson put his clippers down and prepared to walk back to the house.

Charlie chose that moment to casually say, "I wonder if Queenie will show up."

"Seldovia?" Emerson said, of the albino skunk. The mouse stopped in his tracks.

Seldovia was one of the mouse's old high school classmates. Now in her mid-30's like him, she owned a popular café on Main Street in town and had ambitions to be mayor. She usually got what she wanted, too. On account of her being really smart ... and drop dead gorgeous. The mouse had been in her bed more than once. But that was years before he'd met Charlie ...

"That a problem?" Charlie teased.

"Why would she be there?"

"Selling pies, silly! She makes the best ones in the county. So everyone says. So you say." The squirrel put on a pouty face. "You wouldn't let me have your slice last time we were there!" Not good at being coy, Charlie finally confessed, "Heh, okay, I called the café and said she could join our booth."

Emerson twitched. "Are you serious ... "

"Relax, mouse-o. She didn't commit to it." Charlie shrugged. "She might show up, she might not."

His whiskers twitched, and he gnawed on his lower lip. Not knowing almost made it worse.

Charlie tried to reassure him. "So, you humped her a few times, and now you're humping me, and you probably still have a crush on her but you love me ... and we'll both be flanking you in public. So what?"

"Yeah, that's ... you wouldn't find that a little awkward?" the mouse asked his mate.

"I trust you, Emmy! I've nothing to be threatened by. Besides, we're all independent, responsible adults."

"Well ... some of us."

"Hey, I'm twenty-five ... next month." She paused. "How old are you again?"

The mouse hesitated. "Thirty-four."

"Should I call you daddy when we--"

"No," the mouse emphasized quickly.

Charlie laughed.

Emerson blew out a breath, getting flustered. "You told me you wanted to have a threesome with her." The squirrel's kinks didn't stop at outdoor sex. She was also into 'group activities.'

"Us," the bisexual squirrel emphasized. "I'm not having sex with her without you, Emmy," Charlie said, as if the mere idea were preposterous. "We're a package deal. All or nothing!"

"How do you know she's not seeing someone? Or that she'd even be interested? Or maybe offended?"

"Female intuition. I may be a tomboy, but I still got it."

"We, uh ... alright ... look." He blew out a breath, feeling quite flustered. "I'm gonna get the truck and start loading it up. Gotta get folding table, too."

"It's in the pole barn."

"Right. Uh ... you finish cutting these flowers. We're going to be late if we get distracted talking about this ... "

"She won't be offended, Emmy," Charlie reassured. "She'll be flattered. She's nicknamed 'Queenie.' Why's that? Because she likes attention. What bigger amount of attention is there than being told two people want her?" She tilted her head. "You want to do it, don't you?"

"I'm ... I'm only thinking about sunflowers," Emerson stammered.

It was Charlie's turn to point out, "That wasn't a no."

Ears blushing a deep shade of rose, the mouse scurried off to get the truck.

Charlie grinned and turned back to a sunflower when a cicada flew into her tail-fluff, screeching like mad. The squirrel twirled around, chittering and barking, tripping over a sunflower stalk and landing on the ground with an 'oomph.' The cicada flew off.

"That's right! You better run!"

"There's that word again," Charlie said, pointing at a sign as they arrived in town. 'Welcome to 'historic' Circleville? Every town in this county claims to be 'historic'!"

"Well ... there is a Dairy Queen here."

The squirrel perked. "I got a better slogan. Listen ..."

"Oh, boy."

"Circleville. If you're not here, you're square." The squirrel paused. "Get it?"

Emerson looked ahead, slowing for a stoplight, smiling widely but trying not to laugh. "I got it."

"That's hilarious, and you know it."

"Historically hilarious," the mouse added.

Charlie barked with mirth.

Once at the market, they set up their table, arranging a small selection of sunflowers atop it. The rest remained in the back of the truck. They'd restock as necessary. An hour in, they were tracking ahead of projections.

Charlie pushed out her chest. "Yup. I'm a natural at this."

"Uh-huh."

"What?"

"Didn't you notice how many guys were buying flowers?"

"For their mates. It's romantic." She elbowed the mouse. "You should've bought one for me!"

"We're the ones selling," he emphasized, dodging her jab. The squirrel did like to throw an elbow. "I know some of them from about town. They don't have mates. They just wanted to get a closer look at your ... assets."

"I do have a good ass," Charlie agreed, fluffing her cinnamon tail.

"No, your ... your ... " The mouse gestured with his pink, furless paws. "Boobs."

"Yeah? Hmm." Charlie looked down at herself.

Emerson huffed. "You're not wearing a bra!"

"Oh, that ... "

"And you have the top button of your shirt undone." His whiskers twitched. "I'm surprised we haven't been fined for public indecency."

"You try wearin' one of those in this weather! Hazy, hot, and humid? That's a triple threat."

"We all have fur, so by that logic maybe we should just go around naked, then, hmm? Maybe I should just take my jeans off?"

A sly smirk. "You don't have it in you."

He shook his head, putting on a 'helpful' face as a customer stepped forward, eyes glued to the squirrel's breasts.

A little while later, Seldovia showed up.

"Sorry I'm late! I didn't know how many to make," the albino skunk said, of her pies. They were still warm, in boxes, and she set them on the table. She had at least ten with her. "I'll mark them up a few dollars more than they are in the café. Should make a nice profit. Think they'll sell?"

"Uh-huh!" Charlie went, wiggling a bit. The excitement of being so close to the albino skunk was too much. She was gorgeous. What perfume was she wearing? She smelled like flowers! Peonies, maybe? Or was it lilac? It certainly wasn't sunflowers. They didn't smell like anything.

Seldovia looked at Charlie and blinked, noticing her cleavage.

"Don't mind her," Emerson told the skunk. "She had chocolate covered nutty flakes for breakfast."

"Don't exaggerate, Emmy," the squirrel scolded, telling Seldovia with a schoolgirl mumble, "They were puffs, not flakes ... "

The skunk smiled, catching on to what was happening. She was a worldly soul, after all. "Right." She nodded at the squirrel, giving a longer glance at her 'assets.' "Well. Whatever they were, you look in 'supple' health."

"Gotta be to work on the farm!"

"A strapping lass like you? Bet you could handle anything."

"Oh, heh, well ... yeah, as a matter of fact!"

Emerson watched them, gnawing on his lower lip. They were flirting, weren't they? Right in front of him!

Charlie, not wanting to leave her mate out, drug him into it. She pulled at his arm and brought him into the frame. "You should see Emmy naked. He's got some muscles on him.'

Emerson's ears turned beet red.

The skunk winked. "I'm well aware."

"I almost forgot! Gosh. You two doing it ... mmf, that's so--"

"Charlie, let's ... let's focus on the customers, mm?" the mouse pleaded.

"He's so self-conscious," the squirrel stage whispered to Seldovia, releasing the mouse.

Emerson blew out a breath, going back to the table.

"I better set out my pies," the skunk decided, not wanting to cause her old mouse friend too much discomfort. Even if it was apparent she still found him to be an all-out cutie. "People can't buy them if they can't see them! I don't want to take up too much space, so I'll stay at the end over here."

"What, uh ... what kind did you make?" Emerson asked.

"Oh, couple of apples. A peach. Blueberry." She skipped a beat. "The rest are cherry."

"Oh ... that ... that sounds good." Cherry pie was his favorite. He always got a slice when he ate at Queenie's.

"If there's any leftover, I'll give you a slice."

"T-thanks."

Charlie bobbed up and down on her toes as she watched them talk. It was all going according to plan!

Seldovia sold all her pies with an hour left until noon, which is when the market ended. "I would've baked more, but ... I'm only one skunk, and I have a café to run. Thanks for letting me join," she told the other two.

"No prob," Charlie said. "We should hang out more often! You know, as a threesome?"

Seldovia looked to Emerson.

Emerson's eyes darted to the ground.

Seldovia turned back to Charlie and smiled. "You know where I live and work. Stop by for a treat! Been thinking about adding sugar cream pie to the menu." She paused to add, "It's the state pie, you know."

"It is?" Charlie asked, brows raising.

The albino skunk, purple-dyed head-fur glowing in the sunlight, 'mmhmm-ed' at the squirrel and walked back to her car. She passed Emerson on the way, tail drifting inches from his face.

The mouse got a whiff, clearing his throat.

"Emmy," Charlie said, when Seldovia was gone. "You never told me that."

"Told you ... huh? What?"

"That cream pie was this place's official pie!"

"I don't think it ever came to a vote," he mumbled distractedly. "It was just ... decided upon."

"Cream pie?" the squirrel repeated incredulously.

"Why are you saying that like it's an innuendo ... "

"Maybe it is! Maybe," she stressed, "it's an invitation. Queenie wants us to try her cream pie."

"You need to stop reading into things," Emerson said.

"You need to start! Queenie likes to be chased. She's leaving hints for us to follow."

"I guess ... "

"You might guess, but I know. The ball's in our court. We gotta plan our next move."

"Let's ... let's just get through the market first, mm?"

Emerson and Charlie ended up selling all the sunflowers. Well, almost. One or two looked crushed and wilted, so the mouse pulled them from the table and tossed them back into the truck.

"Your aunt will be pleased," Emerson told Charlie.

"Mm. A little too pleased." The squirrel's tail flattened. "We did so well! She'll want me to pick a lot more next week ... "

"Sunflowers have a month window, don't they? It'll all be over soon."

"You saw the field. She staggered the plantings, so we'll be getting these until mid-September ... "

"Oh. Well. Look, I can't do the market every Saturday. You have three people living on your farm. I just have me on mine. I really got stuff to do."

"But it's just for a few hours!"

"Charlie ... "

The squirrel relented but pouted. "She'll make me wear a bra, you know."

"The struggle is real," the mouse quipped.

"Yeah, but then our sales will go down! You told me earlier: people were only buying cause I'm so hot."

"I don't think I phrased it exactly like that?"

Not paying attention, Charlie's eyes lit up. "Hey! Maybe Queenie will come back. She can make up for the lack of boobs. She's smokin' even fully dressed."

Emerson's whiskers twitched. The thought of Charlie _alone_with Seldovia? He could only imagine what they would talk about. "When my ears are burning, I'll know why."

"Relax, mouse-o. Auntie will be here, so I'll keep it tame." She considered, stroking her chin. "I'll have to use code words and metaphors."

Emerson gave her a look.

"What?"

"Are you coming into heat?" Between all the flowers and pies and Seldovia's perfume, there had been too many scents swirling about for him to tell. He hadn't noticed anything different about her scent last night? But that didn't mean her condition wasn't in flux.

"I dunno."

"You don't know?" he echoed.

A shrug. "Maybe a little, then."

"You either are or you aren't."

"Maybe I'm just young and irascibly horny."

"You can be multiple things at once." He paused, admitting, "We should, uh, probably use protection when you're in heat ... you know, just in case." The squirrel wasn't on birth control.

"You worry too much. We're not the same species. Barely compatible."

"I know, but--"

"The odds are, what, less than three percent? Maybe two times out of a hundred, you'll knock me up. And I'm only in heat for a couple days a month, and we'll do it maybe three or four times in that window ... it's like playing the lottery."

"Still ... " Next time he went on a grocery run, he might have to pick something up.

"I'm not stoppin' ya, Emmy. Just, when we do it, it's pretty spontaneous. Usually outdoors." She hugged him from behind. "Things get natural pretty quick. You gonna carry somethin' with ya twenty-four/seven?"

She had a point.

The mouse rubbed at his eyes. All these flowers were making them itch. He knew one thing, though. "It's not happening outdoors in the winter, I'm telling you that."

She released him and clasped her paws together. "Oh! Bet you look precious in a tail-sock."

"Alright, let's ... let's focus on this," Emerson said, gesturing at their sales area. "We gotta pack up our stuff."

As Emerson was folding their display table and lifting it into the back of the truck, he twitched and winced. His whiskers went stiff. Tail, too. Sucking air, he managed to push the table into the truck and close the tailgate, but he moved in slow-motion to the passenger side of the truck. He knocked on the window, a grimace on his muzzle.

Charlie rolled it down. "What?"

"Can you drive?"

"I don't have a proper license yet!" she said. She wasn't an American citizen. Driving tractors in the field was one thing. But the open road?

"You have that temporary permit, right?"

"Yeah, at home."

"Well. You've driven into Arcadia before without it. You told me."

"Me and my big mouth ... "

"No one's going to stop us. I, uh ... I tweaked my back," Emerson managed.

"Oh, gosh!" the squirrel declared, concern washing over her face. "Are you okay? We should take you to a doctor!"

"No, I ... I can't afford that."

"How fucked up is that?" she said with a frown. "You know, back home--"

"I've done this before. Several times. It's a recurring thing. Just lifted wrong ... I'll be fine once I get some pain pills. I'll take it easy the rest of the day ... "

"Did you lift with your knees?"

"Yes. I must've twisted ... turned too sharply ... when I loaded the table, I pivoted? I don't know." He sighed.

Charlie got out of the passenger side and let the mouse into it. Then she scampered around the truck and got behind the wheel. "Okay, how do I work this ... "

Emerson squinted.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" She grinned at him. "You're too easy, you know."

Emerson didn't say anything. He just looked out the window, whiskers drooping.

"Hey," Charlie assured as she started the truck. "This doesn't mean you're falling apart. Farming is rough on the body. I should know!"

"Yeah, but you're younger than me."

"So?"

"So, now you'll realize I'm all ... old."

"Psh! You aren't even middle aged. You're not 'old'. As us squirrels like to say, if shoulda's were candies and nuts, we'd ... mm ... wait, that's not what we say." She shook her head. "Anyway. Look, I'll take care of you. It's going to be okay." After a moment, the squirrel lit up. "I can be your sexy nurse!"

"Charlie ... "

"Mm?"

"You're getting carried away again ... "

"Am I?" she said with a smile.

"Yes," he said, smiling back.

"Good."

"Are we supposed to be using this?"

"You don't buy hot tubs not to use them, Emmy," Charlie said, dipping a toe into the bubbling water.

"Well, you didn't buy it. Your aunt and uncle did."

"I use it all the time."

"Naked? With your mate?"

"I'm sure they've done it in here, too."

"That's not selling me on this," Emerson said, in his underwear behind the squirrels' farmhouse, lit by an incandescent porch light.

"It'll relax your back. Come on! Don't make me pull you in."

It was nighttime, stars beginning to twinkle above the pastoral landscape.

Emerson hesitated, then pushed his boxer-briefs down his thighs. Gravity took them to his feet, and he kicked them away, stepping into the tub. It took a second to get used to. He took another step, then lowered himself into the water. His eyes widened.

"See? Relaxing!" the squirrel said.

"I guess ... " He floated to a seat that faced the fields and pastures, the sun nearly set. The solar-activated porch light winked on.

"Mm ... your back feel better?"

"Yeah, it's ... it's getting there." He closed his eyes and sighed.

"Good." The squirrel smiled and went to his side of the tub, sitting beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder.

Emerson wrapped an arm around her and eyed her tail. When squirrel tails got wet, they lost all their fluff. It looked a bit ... wiry. She swished it around, sending a spray of water at him.

The mouse swatted it away.

"What's wrong with it?"

"With what?"

"My tail! You know I get self-conscious when it's soggy."

"Nothing's wrong," he insisted. "You keep flicking it in my face."

"I'm just happy to be with you," she insisted.

Emerson blushed. He still wasn't used to hearing that, even though they'd been together a couple of months now.

"Say it back," she murmured, sucking on his cheek.

"Say ... what ... "

"That you're happy to be with me." She slid a paw down his belly, between his legs. "That you want me ... that I make you all ... hot and bothered." She'd found his sheath, his cock, had it firmly in her grasp, and was stroking it up and down. "That you wanna fuck me."

"Maybe I ... ah! Should show you, instead."

"Mm, Emmy," the squirrel moaned, pivoting, raising her wet tail, flashing her rump at him. "You're such a sweet talker. But one of these days I'm gonna make you say 'fuck'." She stood up, the warm, steamy water swirling just above her hips. "Ah, I'm already out of breath."

"Well, you're in a hot tub on a hot day while you're coming in heat, so ... maybe we should get you out of the water?"

"Yeah, maybe," she panted, climbing the steps and standing, dripping, in the fur, on the porch. They were at the back of the house, away from the road. No one would see. Not that she would've cared, but Emerson would've been worried about it.

Emerson followed her out, turning the jets on the tub off.

A breeze blew on them both, immediately cooling them off.

"So, um ... what now?" Emerson eventually asked.

"You're still hard," the squirrel noticed.

"You're still wet."

"So are you, silly."

"Not as wet as you," he said, nibbling on her neck.

"Oh! Got me there, mouse-o. I'm ... all wet for y-you ... "

"Where should we go? Inside? To bed?"

"No. Under the stars. Beneath our tree."

"We've only laid beneath it once. How can it be 'our tree'?"

"Traditions have to start somewhere. Mm! But let's go inside first. I'm thirsty. Gonna grab something cold from the fridge."

Emerson nodded and followed her back inside.

Charlie flipped on a light switch.

The floors of the farmhouse were wooden, like his. But the squirrels' house was bigger. Two stories. His was only one. There were some rugs in key places, but nothing that couldn't get wet. They were both still dripping.

Charlie stopped in the kitchen, pulling open the fridge. She canned the contents. "Mm, soda, O.J., purple stuff ... oh, one of those sports drinks. The blue kind! My favorite." It was in the bottom drawer, and she bent over to open it. "You want any?" she asked, still hunched over.

Emerson stared.

"Emmy?"

Maybe it was being teased all day by the horny squirrel? Or flirted with by Seldovia? Or Charlie being in heat?

Whatever the case, the pent-up mouse lost control, grabbing her hips.

The squirrel barked in surprise! Her tail inadvertently swept across his face.

Emerson ears throbbed, rosy-pink with blood.

Her scent!

Now that she was drying off, Charlie's heat was noticeable. Very. Strong, almost spicy. He'd barely been aware of it this afternoon! But, now? It was driving him wild. He couldn't think. Nose tingled. Whiskers stiffened. He pulled the squirrel's rump flush to his loins, grinding, gyrating, wanting to feel her, wanting to be close to her.

"Close the door," he ordered, wedging his mouse-hood between her puffy pussy-lips.

"Oh, gosh!" Charlie huffed, shivering at his sudden spurt of dominance. She closed it, planting her paws against the fridge while the mouse wasted no time and entered her from behind.

After the first thrust, he wanted to stop and savor it.

Savor her.

His mate.

Her brown and silvery fur, her strong, farmgirl figure. Her sex. Hot, smooth, sopping wet. Wrapped around him, subtly clenching, already massaging on his raging hard shaft. Forget sun and sunflowers and everything summer! This was the kind of heat he needed.

"C'mon, Emmy ... ah, give it to me!" she begged.

The harvest mouse didn't need to be told twice.

Savoring could wait.

He needed her! Now!

The golden-furred mouse started thrusting.

Deep, firm thrusts.

Ball-slapping humps.

"Huh, uh ... uhh!" the squirrel chuffed.

Emerson squeaked!

The fridge began to inch backward, magnets and pictures falling off the metal door and to the floor.

She was so wet, her nectar was puddling on the floor. She squelched each time he drove into her. But that only turned him on even more. He picked up the pace, squeaking, tail whipping through the air behind him as he pinned her to the appliance and threw himself into the act.

"I'm ... I'm! Gonna!"

Charlie buckled first, her sex in spams.

If she was wet before, she was an ocean now. Between her and the water they'd been dripping from the tub, a mop would be required to clean this all up. Her eyes rolled back, and she pressed her face to the fridge, groaning her way through her climax.

Emerson wasn't far behind.

Watching her, seeing her, feeling her in such pleasure? That alone would've been enough to set him off, even with all the other factors at play.

He buried himself as deeply as he could in her tunnel, gasping, head tossing back. His cock tingled. So sensitive! His buckteeth jutted as he gaped, as his body succumbed to hers.

"Ah ... ahh ... ah!"

Each twitching spurt of seed was followed by one of those blissed-out cries. Until they, and his noises, tapered off.

They panted in unison.

"Holy fucking moly," Charlie muttered.

"Y-yeah," Emerson agreed, dizzy, winded. And somewhat embarrassed he'd gotten so out of control. He felt okay now! But once the afterglow wore off, her scent would entice him once more.

He didn't want to pull out of her but had to. "You're a mess ... "

"Thanks to who?"

"Well ... it takes two to tango. Let's leave it at that." His whiskers twitched. He looked about the room. "But we should really find a mop! Or at least some towels."

"We can clean it up later!" Charlie opened the fridge, opening a blue sports drink. She tossed one to the mouse. Opening hers, she downed half of it in one go. Panting, she said, "We gotta lay beneath our tree. New tradition, remember?"

The mouse hydrated himself and set the bottle aside. "If we lay down now, I'll literally fall asleep."

"We could bring some pillows?" she said, looking into his eyes.

"Maybe." He stared back at her. "Or maybe ... "

They inched closer.

Emerson leaned in for a sweet, succulent kiss. One of those lip-smacking ones. "Mm. You taste better than ... " His addled mind searched for a comparison.

"Than what?" she prodded.

"Sugar cream pie."

"Seriously? High praise! Buuuut ... since I've never had one, I'll have to take your word for it. Can I trust you?"

"Oh, I'm as trustworthy as the day is long."

"And as thick," Charlie murmured.

Emerson blushed.

"Queenie said she'd make us one ... "

"Mm?"

"Pie."

"Maybe she was just being polite."

"You know that's not true," Charlie said.

Emerson nodded slowly. "Think we should take her up on it?"

"I know what I think. I wanna know what you think."

"I think your heat is affecting my judgement," the mouse replied. "Shouldn't be making decisions about ... threesome partners right now."

"Or maybe it's bringing out your true, unfiltered desires?" Charlie's arms went around his neck, sighing on his cheek. "Mm?"

"I guess ... "

"How's your back feeling?" Charlie wondered.

"Doesn't really hurt now," Emerson said. "I kinda neutrally 'feel' it? But ... I'll be okay."

"Promise?"

"Mm-hmm."

They kissed again.

The squirrel chittered, nuzzling her mate. "Know what sounds good right now?"

"Is this still about pie?"

"A shower!" she decreed. "Get all ... 'squeaky clean'."

"Heh." He smiled, paws rubbing her body, combing her fur. "A hot one?"

The squirrel eagerly pulled him to the bathroom. "You know it!"