FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

This story commission was written for DreamGod. It contains sexual acts between multiple consenting adults, some pretty intense emotional/romance related stuff, and themes such as adultery and incest.

I Missed You

The hug at the airport gate was stilted and a little tense. Smiles were shared back and forth between the two dalmatians, but they were awkward and more than a little forced. In near silence they walked their way to baggage collection and made their way through the airport to its large parking lot, Arthur making only a minor effort to utter a few pleasantries, asking his sister how her flight had been and whether she felt particularly jet-lagged by the substantial time difference or not. When she responded quietly and briefly though, he soon ceased even those minimal efforts. The car ride home was just as silent. Arthur didn't even dare to try putting on the radio for fear that... well, honestly he had no idea why he was afraid of doing that, or why with every passing moment he expected a sudden burst of rage to erupt from the woman sitting beside him with her hands nervously folded in her lap. To blame him, to accuse him of things long past, which had gone unspoken for the four years that she had spent teaching abroad.

Of course, Bianca felt the same fear. The same anxiety as she sat there silently feeling her knuckles tighten with every turn they made towards Arthur's apartment. Towards silence, and a closed door which would seal them away together in a way they had never really experienced before. Was he really going to let her stay while she looked for a place of her own? Or, was she going to find the police waiting for them at the front door. Was he going to laugh and toss her out on the streets, or let her in only to use the silence and the private space to tell her how betrayed he felt, how violated by what she had forced him to do before up and leaving, abandoning him so that she could make more of a life for herself than she could at home.

They kept those fears to themselves, and held them close, held them deep until finally they were pulling up in front of Arthur's apartment building. Quietly they carried Bianca's bags up the stairs past the broken elevator. Silently they waited as Arthur fumbled for his keys. Terrified, they slipped inside the apartment one after the other, heard the door click shut, and then... then they were alone.

Alone for the fist time since over a week before Bianca's flight, their family having kept them so busy that they hadn't even known that their last moments alone together were going to be their last moments, until suddenly there were no moments left at all, and they were standing at the airport gate hugging, weeping, and wishing that they could whisper to one another how they felt, but knowing that they couldn't with their parents and younger siblings standing so close by.

They had been eighteen then. So young. So naive. So reckless.

They had grown up a lot since then. Learned things. Experienced life as they had never imagined it before... apart.

And now, silence. Now, awkwardness.

Now, nervous glances as they looked at their sibling, and wondered if they would ever be able to recover from the distance of the last four years, and the truth of what had come before.

"I..."

Arthur spoke, his voice soft and nervous, but still enough of a change from the tense silence as they stood there in the still darkened hallway of his small, single bedroom apartment that it made Bianca jump.

"Bee, I... I missed you."

Bianca's eyes widened. Her breath caught in her throat, and suddenly all that fear, all that sorrow and imagined hurt and hate was replaced by another emotion. One so all consuming and complete that she could only respond in one way.

"I... I missed you too, Artie. Every day. Every second, I... I wanted to call you. T-to email. To text. But, I... w-we always said, we couldn't say things. Couldn't leave a trail, o-or... or risk being overheard when it was anything b-but the two of..."

Her voice cracked as all of a sudden one of Arthur's hands was clutching at hers. Squeezing it so, so tightly, but not causing her the slightest pain. He could never hurt her, after all. Never.

"I... I was afraid, when you stayed away, that it was because of me. That what we shared... once you left, you thought that maybe I'd... forced you. I told myself I didn't, but... I c-could never be sure. I could never ask, because... because I remembered our promise too. That we'd never speak of it, never risk anyone else overhearing."

Every word was a whisper. Painful. Honest. Beautiful as the two dalmatians clasped both hands together, and stood ever closer, face to face, eye to eye, nose to nose.

"Oh god, Artie. Y-you... no. No, you didn't force me. I wanted it. I loved it. I loved you. I... I love you, Arthur. And I missed you so, so fucking much."

They embraced.

They sobbed.

They clung to one another so, so tight. And it was then that Bianca heard her twin brother whisper to her, in that voice she remembered from years ago, as clear and perfect as though the last time she'd heard it was just days before.

"I'm here now, Bee. And... we're alone."

Bianca laughed. She sobbed. She did the two at once, and pressed her lips to her brother's own as she did so, deeply, passionately and utterly without shame. Only when they parted, breathless and beaming through their tears, did she whisper back.

It had been four years, but still, the words came as easily as they always had. So natural.

So simple. So right.

"Fuck me, Arthur."

She moaned to her twin. "Fuck me... brother."

---

The front door opened, revealing the grinning Samoyed standing under the brickwork arch, a bag strapped over his shoulder.

"Hey there, old man! Hide your cane in the closet?"

The 24-year-old late college student was met with a proud guffaw from his sire and a caramel-furred middle finger. "In fact, I bought it just for you, for the ass whooping I'm gonna give ya!" The rude gesture in jest opened up to include the rest of his appendages. "Come on in, before I forward you my electric bill!"

Standing at 5'10, the aging Shiba Inu closed the front door, then tugged his 6-foot son into a tight hug, both their curled tails leading a hypnotic wag. After pulling back from their embrace, Morrie was asked by his dad, "How was the drive over? I'm hoping you didn't fall asleep on the road?"

"Nope, after a long early bedtime, a shot of triple black, and a playlist of my favorite jams, I'm good for the whole day!" Morexis, or Morrie as he liked to be called, had his own unique but surefire way to avoid the interstate traffic: waking up at the witching hour and leaving his home at midnight sharp. Neither of his parents approved of this unorthodox method of travel but Morexis always endeavored to assuage their worries. Beyond that, he was headstrong in his decisions, and wasn't going to let anyone change his mind. "Ready to go?", he asked.

"Ah, not yet," the father replied. "I got caught up watching some Nestflix and didn't take my shower. I'll go ahead and do that now; you can put your stuff over there."

Morrie dropped his duffel on one side of the couch. Since his dormitory was only about a half hour away from his mother's house, he decided to spend his next break with his paternal family.

"So, how's Jiselle?" Dad called out.

"Same as always--running herself ragged with all her church groups, whining about the prices of everything, forgetting everything but her Judge Clawson show... retiree stuff." Morexis continued the conversation while following his father to the bedroom. While the romance between Jiselle and Stephen flickered out, they did still care for each other as adults. The retired Samoyed teacher only spoke occasionally to her ex-husband, largely in thanks to their son as a mediator.

"Guess who I ran into at the ShopMart the other day?"

"Mmm?"

"Sabrina, from your elementary school."

"You're kidding!" Morrie laughed as he sat down on his dad's bed.

"Nope. In fact, I told her that you were visiting, and she wanted to come over and see ya! You remember that little crush you had on her back then?"

Back then?, he mused. No, he still desired the attractiveness of the wood mouse. They knew each other since childhood, and many onlookers appropriately called their close friendship puppy love. None of them were aware of the few weeks that they spent in the secrecy of their respective houses, playing "Husband and Wife" in their sleepovers. What they "saw on TV" soon blossomed into natural curiosities that made for fun exploratory nights. And while they were thankfully too young to go too far, the memories that were built from those moments remained cherished forever. At least, it did for Morrie...

After the canine and rodent grew up, and eventually grew apart, Morexis lamented the lack of courage he had to return to her in their more knowledgeable years and ask her on a date. Although Morrie eventually found his share of girlfriends during high school and adulthood, he always hoped to "play" with her for real...

"Of course, Dad! When's she coming?"

"Tuesday, so the day after tomorrow."

As the father and son continued their dialogue, Stephen fully disrobed, exposing his thin, greying sheath and his healthy, but lopsided balls. Stephen was always frank and transparent about body image. That is to say, he didn't care who saw. Having spent his summers here for most of his life, it quickly became a non-issue once he sat the pup down and patiently answered any questions the curious youth had. Sparing a short glance at his father's nudity, Morexis continued nonchalantly.

"It'll be so great to see her again." He paused as an idea formed. "In fact, I'd think she'd be highly impressed seeing me drive up in a Land Dober..."

Stephen spoke calmly over the hiss of the shower starting from the connecting bathroom: "I will put you into the ground like a tent pole."

Morrie immediately jumped up in his defense, briskly walking into the master bath, "Aw

come on, dad! This is the first time I've seen her since senior year, I wanna make a good impression!"

Stephen turned to face his spoiled son through the glass without missing a beat: "And you're going to start that impression with a lie right off the bat?"

The two canines locked eyes, until the fur soap forced the wise begetter to wince them shut.

"...damn", he muttered conceitedly.

"Uh-huh. So, either you take your modest yet honest hand-me-down, or you get some exercise walkin'. Or she can meet you here!"

The Shiba turned off the shower, and shook himself dry behind the fogged glass door. Sliding it open, he stepped his still dripping body out onto the mat in front of his son, who was suddenly grinning wildly as he once again looked his naked father up and down.

"Hey, get me a towe--

no. Don't even think about it, I'm _ still wet--! _"

"Flooof!!"

The Samoyed, still young in spirit, launched up and wrapped his bare dad in a squeezing hug, bringing their bodies as close together as possible. Morrie essentially motorboated every part of his grumbling dad's body that was with reach, soaking up whatever moisture remained onto his face and clothing.

"You're a grown man, for god's sake, your fur does the same thing!", Stephen said while rolling his eyes and (halfheartedly) attempted to push the boy away.

"Yeah, but you can't hug yourself, so you'll have to do."

"Alright, alright, get off", dad smirked. "Come on, let's hit the steakhouse, I'm starved."

---

Their eyes met over the food court. Two conversations froze in mid-sentence, and two figures rose from two separate tables as their partners asked after them in confusion as they stepped aside, eyes still locked upon one another, and began to walk. Closer. Closer. Still not daring to hope, not daring to believe even though the other man appeared to be walking towards them with the same look in their eyes. The same wonder. The same disbelief. The same heartbroken anger, unable to believe that life had been so cruel as to do what it was about to do.

"Sam?" Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

It was him. It really was him. "Joseph..."

Shit. Shitfuckballscrap.

It was him. It really fucking was him. "H-holy shit, h-how... how are you?" "Good, I'm... I'm really good. Sam, I..."

Before anything more could be said though, a voice cut through the moment. A voice whose presence broke Joseph's heart, and sent a tear trickling down the fox's right cheek, which Sam had to fight with all his willpower not to immediately reach up and wipe away.

"Joe, you okay, hun?"

Joseph stared at Sam so fearfully. So sorrowfully, filled with shame and horror as he felt a hand on his shoulder. A warm, soothing, loving hand.

"Joe? Is... is this guy, um... bothering you?"

The fox shuddered, his eyes widened, and he shook his head, wiping his eyes off on his sleeve before turning back to face his husband.

"No. N-no, fuck. Sorry. This... uh... fuck, I... I told you about my first boyfriend. The one who..."

The squirrel's eyes widened, and he looked from his lover's tearful face to the wide eyed, equally weeping rat standing there staring at them.

"Holy shit. This is Sam? The one your family..."

His voice trailed off, but Sam cleared his throat and spoke up in response.

"The one his family and mine conspired to keep away from him. Who moved me two states away, a-and... and put me into conversion therapy to

fix, because I had the temerity to fall in love with my best friend. With Joseph."

Joseph whined and shook his head, stepping back towards Sam with trembling hands.

"I... Sam, I tried to find you. Tried to find some way to make my parents tell me where you'd gone. I spent months calling every place I'd ever heard you mention, every school, every church, I..."

Another figure approached from behind the rat, and Joseph's voice trailed off as he watched Sam jump at the touch to his own shoulder.

"Everything okay? Who are your... um, your friends?"

Sam stiffened, and turned towards the tall, broad stallion glancing calmly over Joseph and his own lover.

"Oh. Um... I... t-this is... Terrance, this is m-my... my friend, Joseph." The horse tilted his head.

"Joseph, I don't think we've been introd-..." He froze, and his eyes widened.

"Joseph. As in. Joseph, the one that your fucking parents..."

The rat squeaked, nodded, and looked pleadingly up at the horse.

"Terry. I... I need to take a moment. I need to talk with Joseph. T-that is, if he wants to talk."

Joseph looked wide eyed at the rat, then over his shoulder to his own husband. The squirrel nodded encouragingly, and looked up at the horse with a weak, nervous smile.

"Uh, hey. I... I'm Bradley. Do you wanna sit down? Uh... we can chat about how great our husbands are while they... catch up, right?"

Terrance nodded, and smiled reassuringly at his lover.

"You guys talk. And, please, for gods sake trade numbers or something. After what you both went through... after what Sam told me your parents did... fuck, just... we'll be here. Take as long as you need."

Before Sam and Joseph knew it, their partners were sitting down together and watching as the two long lost lovers faced one another, as they stared at the man twice the age he had been when they were torn apart as fourteen year olds, so in love, so happy, and so very scared when Joseph's father caught them lying in bed together, clothed, just kissing, nothing more... but, enough to make their families do horrible, horrible things to them, beginning with ensuring that after that night, they

never saw one another or spoke a word to one another ever again. Until today.

Until now.

They began to walk. To walk silently, side by side, neither one of them knowing what to say at first. They were well beyond the food court and well out of sight of their partners before either one of them spoke, but with they did so, they spoke in almost eerily perfect unison.

"

I hate them for what they did." They froze.

They turned.

Smiles crossed their lips, only to falter as tears filled two pairs of eyes once again. "They stole you from me."

Joseph whispered, and before he knew it, his hand was in Sam's own.

"They stole our time. Our lives. T-they... they tried to convince me you had tempted me. That you were some agent of fucking Satan. But, I n-never believed. For four years I fought them, a-and fought them, until the day I was eighteen. I walked out of the door of that house, and never fucking looked back."

Sam trembled, and yet his hand only tightened within the fox's grasp.

"I left when I was sixteen. The courts declared me a legal adult. I... w-what my parents did to me after they found out about us... I told the police. I took them to court. I hoped you'd see me in the news, but... kid sues abusive parents, wins freedom, apparently wasn't worthy of a national piece."

The rat fell silent, but cringed as he saw the rage, the fury in Joseph's gaze.

"W-what they... Sam, oh god, Sam. What did they do to you? W-what did they fucking do..."

That rage only lasted a few moments though, before Joseph broke down, and Sam had no choice but to throw himself into the fox's arms to keep Joseph from falling to his knees in sorrow and anger.

He looked over the other man's shoulder, and guided them away from the middle of the mall's upper floor towards a set of restrooms. He led Joseph into one of the closest private spaces, one of several accessible and non-gendered individual rooms before the more traditional gender divided bathrooms, and locked the door behind them before finally his emotions overcame him too, and his own tear stained cheeks and sniffling nose became a torrent of sobs every bit as volatile and sincere as those of his long lost boyfriend.

"It doesn't matter..."

He whispered finally, when he found himself with fortitude and coherence enough to do so.

"What they did back then, it doesn't matter. Because... they didn't win. They didn't break me. And, by the looks of things, your parents didn't break you either."

Joseph raised his head, whined, and shook his head in furious determination.

"Never. T-they could never. Because... for four years, I thought of you. Only you, a-and... it made me strong. You always made me feel so, so strong, Sam."

The rat trembled and blushed.

"You always made me feel so safe. So protected. I clung to that feeling. No matter what they did, they couldn't get through the shell I put up, b-because... because it was real. What we felt back then, even if we were just kids. What I felt for you, a-and... what you felt for me, it was..."

Their eyes met. Their eyes widened.

A ragged breath escaped both men at once, and then... then Joseph was on his knees, and belts were loosening, cheeks flushing, hands groping at jeans, tugging, dragging material down to reveal what lay beneath.

Sam slapped a hand over his muzzle to muffle a frantic squeak as Joseph took his still hardening cock into his muzzle, only for the fox to pull back, panting, almost laughing as fresh tears flowed joyously down his cheeks.

"Y-you squeaked like that the first time I kissed you. I was afraid I'd hurt you, a-and then you asked me..."

The rat gave a pleading gasp, cutting in amidst the fox's words. "...do it again, please."

A pink hand came to rest on the back of Joseph's head, and a moment later the fox was eagerly back to work, suckling, licking, staring eagerly up as Sam gazed down at him in absolute awe, and feeling a contentment, a completion he hadn't felt in fourteen long years as he got to do what he never had the chance to back then, and saw Sam's still beautiful, pink eared, pink nosed face contort in pleasure of his own making.

"...d-do it... aaah... again..."

Sam whimpered happily, mindlessly as he felt himself rising towards orgasm

fast; far faster than any lover had ever been able to achieve by any means.

"...oh, Joseph, I..."

He trembled. His legs buckled, but he forced himself to keep standing, to keep letting this happen to him. He squeaked. Louder. Louder. Over and over again, free hand pressed to his muzzle to muffle his euphoria as best he could.

"I... I'm...

yes! Oh, Joseph! Yes! Yes!"

For fifteen seconds, he touched heaven as never before.

For fifteen seconds he watched Joseph gulp, slurp, swallow, and quake as the rat felt his pink feet being streaked with wetness that could only possibly come from one source.

Then he fell to his knees. He looked down, and giggled as he saw the fox's exposed, knotted red cock still oozing in Joseph's grasp. Sam reached out, pushed the fox's paw aside, and ever so gently, ever so carefully touched the other man's cock, squeaking joyously and resting his forehead to Joseph's own as the fox did the very same to his exposed, still occasionally twitching shaft.

"I missed you..."

Joseph whispered, the rat blushing, nodding, nuzzling gently against him, nose to nose before they kissed softly once more.

"I missed you too." Sam murmured back. "But, I... I'm here now."

The rat continued, too happy, too content in that moment to think about his partner back in the food court, or Joseph's husband, or anything else in all the world but the handsome, wonderful man kneeling before him, cock still quivering in excitement within his grasp after almost a decade and a half of dreaming of such a moment with almost every idle thought.

"I'm here now, and... until we decide

together what comes next, I promise you, Joseph. This time, nothing in all the world will keep us apart."

---

The front door opened, letting in two full and satisfied dogs. Each had a content grin, a plump belly, and a separate container filled with their leftovers--two doggie bags. Morexis handed Stephen his food container for the refrigerator before collapsing into the couch with an exaggerated groan, "Goddamn, that hit the spot! I don't think I can get any more relaxed than this!"

The Shiba replied, "Why not top it off with an hour in the hot tub?"

Morrie's eyes popped open, and he sat up so quickly his blue-tipped button ears flapped. "Wait,

really? You still have that thing, hooked up and all?"

Smirking, his father replied, "Ain't nothin' like it to soften your body and release your spirit after an intense squash game!"

"So, what--you crumple yourself in there and the jets push your brittle ass upward until you float like a used condom?" the young adult replied flippantly. He then gave a yip of surprise when a projectile dinner roll beaned him in the head.

"I wasn't kidding about that cane,

you little shit," Stephen said with a hint of danger in his voice. "But yeah, even though you never stayed longer than--pick that up, too--longer than the summer I figured, 'why get rid of it?' So, I had it moved to the laundry room, and I keep it drained unless I have company. I filled it up yesterday since I knew you were coming. Take a load off!"

Morrie ignored the

shudder that passed through his body and smiled warmly. "Sounds good."

***

Clothes discarded in the guest bedroom, Morexis walked to the double sized laundry housing. He was only wearing a towel, and it was draped over a shoulder instead of wrapped around his waist. He was greeted by the low hum of the indoor jacuzzi, covered by a large thick padded shield to protect from spillage and outside debris. Designed for use by up to four furs, he of course opted for the one closest to the waterproof control panel. Morexis folded his towel on a dry half of the tub cover and took the single step stool, straddling the side. He paused at the sight of his elevated leg--both of his lower extremities were covered in splotches of blue fur; 'socks' rising to just short of his knees. As a boy he was not a fan of the uneven birthmarks, reviling the fact that apart from the folded top half of his ears, he had no other color on his pure white Samoyed frame. When he matured however, he grew fond of his genetic uniqueness, and accepted them as part of who he is. With a grin, he set one foot down in the centralized hot water, then the other, sighing pleasurably while the simmering heat swallowed up his feet, legs and thick medium sheath and plumply full, slightly lopsided balls.

Sinking down to about his neck, and slotting into one of the acrylic shells sculpted for an adult fur, Morrie made himself comfortable in ensuring that his body covered all of the 16 jets--four under the thighs and calves, one under each paw, and the rest of course focused on the neck and back. Ready, he turned towards the control panel and tapped easily into his long-ingrained muscle memory:

TIMER>15/30/45/60 MINS>TEMP. 104 F>ALL JETS/FULL BODY CYCLE/HEAD&SHOULDERS/UPPERBACK/LOWERBACK&HANDS/THIGHS&FEET>JET STRENGTH>HI/MED/LOW>OSCILLATION>ON/OFF>START

And just like that, the tiny pool came to life.

The hot tub growled with it's rumbling hum of the motors powering the therapeutic furniture. The air babbled with its hot water simulating a boiling pot as bubbles continuously rose and popped. The clean surface was laden with a constant hiss of the resultant popping of millions of little bubbles, like a soda or a seltzer. Yet in his mind, and his alone, Morexis could also hear rhythmic splats of wasted chlorine liquid splashing on one specific side of the tub, and collective years of youthful moans of excitement and whimpers of need stored up within these laundry room walls. Not quite ready to get started, he covered the jets with his body and waxed nostalgic. It had only been 10 years ago when this massive tub was just that to him: a regular hot tub. One night while Stephen was in the kitchen cooking dinner, Morrie was simply enjoying the relaxing massage, interestingly set on a short timer as he hadn't planned on staying in long. There was only about three minutes left on the panel, and the young teenager was ready to get out. As he rolled to his side to reach for his towel, a spark was ignited and his whole life was changed--for the pounding jet located in the left-hand position grazed right across the top of his blossoming sensitive sheath.

Funny how events happen in peoples' lives--if he was floating just a few inches higher, the Samoyed would've suffered a

very painful and embarrassing accident that would likely deter him from ever being that careless again. Instead, his burgeoning sexuality was kickstarted instantly, as loosed a shuddering gasp upon his inadvertent discovery.

Needless to say, Morexis stayed in the tub for much,

_ much _ longer that night.

Now in the height of his sexual maturity, he couldn't help but feel the pulses of his now much larger fur covering as the first few strawberry red inches of his cock started to ripple in the water. Thankfully, Morrie did lose his virginity and went on dates with a few girls, learning some of the lessons almost certain in relationships and sexual encounters, but he still bore an excited open mouthed smile as he leaned up and mounted the acrylic left armrest with a practiced motion. If nothing else, it would be like old times. When Morrie floated into position, he stretched a wet furry arm out to tap on the waterproof buttons:

OPTIONS>OPTIONS>OPTIONS>OPTIONS>ALL JETS/FULL BODY CYCLE/HEAD&SHOULDERS/UPPERBACK/LOWERBACK&HANDS/THIGHS&FEET

The remaining twelve jets turned off, spinning coming to a stop, while the four active jets increased in strength. Morexis learned sometime later in his rapidly increasing frequency usage that the power of the jets was evenly distributed throughout the tub--the more jets that were on, the weaker they would be, to compensate for other parts of the body, or other guests, when the tub had any. Scrolling through the options just to make sure, his other settings were still active:

JET STRENGTH>HI/MED/LOW>OSCILLATION>ON/OFF>

Placing one hand on the edge of the tub, he whispered under the roar of the jets, "Holy hell, it's been so long...hasn't it, beautiful?" Morexis had to blush at the silliness of sweet-talking a half-ton of plastic, but with the boiling heat and his quickly rising arousal, the blush under all that white fur was warranted. The young adult held his sheath steady with his left hand, and slowly pushed his hips forward.

As soon as the unceasing water current from the hand jet blasted across the top of his bony penis, he shuddered hard in rapturous euphoria, and thought back to his first time when his moans were so high pitched, he sounded like a

girl. The young man rested his forehead on the shoulder mold and bit his lip. With that, he raised it back up and got to work. Morrie started slow, gently gyrating his hips over the pounding jet. The point-blank continuous stimulation and heightened sensitivity of a canine's nerves quickly aroused him the rest of the way, firmly bunching his sheath the rest of the way down, past his emerging knot. He gradually increased his pace, already panting from a combination of the joyous feelings under his abs and the increased heat of the hot tub and his current activities. He closed his eyes, nestling himself into the constant pulsing sensation along his cock. He could feel his shoulders squeezing slightly and his submerged rear cheeks clenching rhythmically as he hunched over toward that euphoric water jet. Morrie bit his lip and moaned, sighing heatedly and keeping a slow and gentle pace--he knew from experience that simply thrusting away would bring him a lot more pain than pleasure, either quickly losing alignment with the jet, or even worse--a particularly reckless thrust jostling his tender balls in the way of the merciless high pressure spout instead. Plus, all that rocking would splash water all over the floor. The first time he neglected to notice, his father gave him a furious earful--and an ear pull--thinking that the then teenager had jumped into the jacuzzi like a swimming pool. Morexis had to smirk, even midway through his masturbation--If only Dad knew the real reason there was water all over the floor...

Morrie grunted with pleasure, humping more firmly to pick up the pace and keeping a solid grip on the base of his cock using his thumb and index finger. The jet designed to soothe the muscles of a paw beat

mercilessly upon the tip and shaft of his cock, spreading a searing heat through his nerve endings, felt separately even through the boiling water. Adjusting his hold on the nearest side of the tub, and locking his leg against the other side, he closed his eyes and flexed his rear faster, any vocalizations gradually reduced to reduced to shaking pants while he was getting closer to his peak. A fantasy swirled into being behind his closed eyelids--Of his wood mouse Sabrina. His first crush. His puppy love girlfriend, playhouse "wife", and the girl he wished his first time was with. She'd slowly raise her half lidded eyes to her Morrie's panting smile, her own shuddering breaths punctuated with soft, demure moans, and she'd wrap her legs around his hips, digging her feet into his cheeks as her whimpers increased in pitch. Quickly approaching his limit, Morrie lunged forward, capturing her breath in a fierce kiss--but she wasn't here, and the poor Samoyed was stuck making out with the shoulder mold of the tub. An embarrassing flush grew across Morexis' body with how _ stupid _ he looked right now, but this close to such a powerful orgasm, nothing short of his father bursting in with a streaming phone would cause him to care. The surge of his erotic pinnacle bubbled up toward his tip as he pulled his lips and tongue from the side of the plastic closed his eyes and whispered to the tub:

"Ohhh...I missed you."

And with that, his hips stilled as his orgasm began. Holding his cock at the base, squeezing

right below the knot, Morexis held still, keeping his no doubt twitching knothood in direct contact with the jet as he cinched his eyes tight and let out a slow howl, as low as he possibly could, resulting in a keening whine. That satisfied noise was punctuated with a hard grunt--and his hips suddenly pistoned as he unleashed lashing ropes of ejaculate from his swollen cocktip. The lances of cum were immediately swept away by the raging swirls of the recycled bubbles, instantly eliminating the need for any cleanup. That was irrelevant, however--what mattered was the blossoming explosion of warmth he felt radiating within him--even surrounded by boiling water--and the rushing endorphin dose of his orgasm sweeping through his nerves. After the last dregs of semen spurted out of his throbbing red tip and were whisked away to scatter around the tub, Morexis slumped against the mold, ensuring his sensitive member was pounding against his abdomen and out of the way of the jet, and sighed contentedly. He caught his breath silently under the constant rumbling of the motors powering the luxury furniture, and chuckled euphorically, his eyes still closed. While the Samoyed rode the settling of his afterglow, he let go of his resting knot and moved his hand lower, cradling his balls appreciatively. They hung exceptionally low, his spermatic cords greatly relaxed due to a combination of their accomplished task, and the encompassing heat of the tub. Morrie rolled over, slotting his body into the mold--properly, this time--and leaned his head comfortably into the headrest, now using the jets for the manufacturer's intended purpose: to relax. He had an important event approaching, after all...

---

Katrina practically dragged Jamie out of the airport, the wolf still a little breathless from the kiss his wife had given him when they first reunited, now struggling to keep pace with her as she looked back at him expectantly, wordlessly seeking the location of their car. He gestured in its direction, and a moment later they were in hurried motion again. He was glad that the woman he loved was back, that she was safe and sound after her double tour of duty, and he understood that it might take her a little time to adjust back to civilian life now that her active service was over. But, the way she was acting right now... the urgency with which she was fleeing towards their car, it was like there was something driving her, something pushing her onward that he didn't understand, and which he had yet to find the time or the space to enquire about.

Soon enough though, Jamie learned the truth. All it took was them reaching the car, him slipping around the back and placing her large case in the trunk, before returning to the front of their four door saloon and slipping into the driver's seat. After that, he didn't have a chance to don his seatbelt, or even to slip the keys into the ignition before he glanced to his right and saw the otter slipping out of her jeans, kicking them down into the foot-well of the car and staring over at him with an expression of hunger, of pleading desperation unlike anything he had ever seen before etched in anguish across her face.

"G-get your cock out. Get it hard. Fuck me, Jamie. Here. Now.

Please."

Jamie's eyes bulged. He and his wife had always enjoyed a perfectly healthy sex life, and he was glad that he'd always pretty much been able to please her to a level that she seemed more than satisfied by. But, this was decidedly new. Yet in that moment, as he watched his wife lift her tight

ass up off the car seat and send her panties down to follow her jeans, he couldn't do anything but nod and begin fumbling with his belt. By the time his own trousers were around his knees, he was half-hard. Before he could pull his boxers down or let time and his pounding heart get him the rest of the way erect though, Katrina was sweeping up over the centre console of the car and straddling him. She was grabbing at his crotch, tugging his boxers down with force almost enough to rip them, the material of their waistline digging into Jamie's flesh and fur until she tucked their front away beneath his balls and released the fabric once again. Then, even as he continued to rise to his not yet fully fledged hard-on, she was around him. Hot. Wet. Already moving, riding, bucking as she grunted, gasped and pressed herself forward against him, lips seeking out his in a fevered kiss for the second time since their reunion.

"Oohhgod... I... I love you..."

There was an edge of... something... in her voice, something that would have made Jamie worried, nervous for the woman he loved so dearly in return if in that moment his mind hadn't been going wild with pleasure from feeling the heat of her pussy around his cock for the first time in more than a year.

"Fuck me. Yes. Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck me l-like you don't care who sees... like...

aahhyesss, like nothing can stop you. Like y-you'll never be... ahh, able to let me go ever, ever again!"

The car's suspension creaked as Katrina stuffed a hand down her front and began to violently rub her clit even while she continued to bounce urgently up and down on Jamie's cock, now fully hard and straining desperately as all he could do was sit back, place his hands upon his wife's hips and let her take the lead while he tried to keep the last of his mind's coherent thoughts from worrying about how easily someone would be able to see in through the windows of the car if they were to walk past anywhere remotely close by. The otter's gasps and whimpered words grew ever more frantic as she worked herself upon the wolf, and before long she had surrendered any attempts at kissing Jamie, simply bumping her face against his and occasionally running her tongue across his muzzle in a savage, shamelessly wild lick.

"Yes. Yesssss, oohhh fuck, Jamie. Make me cum. M-mmnhahhh... make me... m-my mind go blank. Don't let me think. Don't let me... a-ahhhgod, h-have a single clear thought. Keep me cumming, a- and cumming, and... oh god. Ohhh f-fucking god, please.

Please , y-yes, I... I'm... ohhhhhgodfuck, cumming!"

She was so rough, so worked up, that no matter how unprepared and swiftly Jamie was rising towards his own peak, Katrina beat him there by a considerable margin after barely a minute riding him. She shuddered, she thrashed, she plunged herself down around the wolf's still not entirely engorged knot and held herself there like they were locked together all of a sudden, regardless of reality. Her pussy gushed, she grunted, whimpered, cried out as she kept on rolling her hips, rocking and humping against the throbbing erection deep within her like the climax had done almost nothing to take the edge off her desire.

"Ohhhyesss... yes, p-please... please d-don't... don't stop. Oh god. Ohhhh god, more. More. N- nnhh... no. Oh god, don't let it stop. Harder. Please, p-please no. Keep me cumming. Keep me d- dumb and... brainless and... please, Jamie. Don't stop. Don't stop. D-don't... n-no... what are you... Jamie! Dammit, fuck!

Fuck! Keep going!"

For a short while she sounded so happy. So blissful. But, as soon as the note of desperation returned to her voice as her orgasm began to wane, and as soon as she started to grab at Jamie's shirt, tugging and shaking him as she begged more and more savagely, more and more shrilly for him to continue,

he stopped responding. He simply held her. Embraced her, and watched in dismay as the arousal and rapture drained from her face, only to be replaced with sorrow.

"N-no, please... d-don't look at me like that. Don't feel sorry for me. I... I just want to be happy. I just want to... Jamie, I... p-please..."

Tears filled her eyes, and though she was still wrapped around his rock hard cock, though the residual convulsions of her nether regions were still squeezing and stimulating him, Jamie felt his own eyes beginning to water as he saw the absolute terror in his wife's gaze.

"...p-please, tell me you still love me, a-after... after everything I've seen. Everything I've done. Tell me t-that... that you love me, you missed me so much, you'll never let me go away."

Katrina sobbed. She wrapped her arms around her husband, buried her face in his neck, and whispered mournfully as she shuddered and wept against him.

"Tell me I d-don't ever have to go back. That I don't have to t-think about it. Remember it. T-that... that I can forget, a-and that you can forgive me."

Jamie could do nothing but cling to his wife in aghast horror of his own. Horror at the fact that he'd never known. That he had always just taken his wife at her word that everything she did in the military, she was okay with, or if not okay then at least trained to handle professionally and with a level of detachment.

Two tours.

She had done two tours, and it was at his encouragement, based on what he had believed at the time to be her genuine eagerness, that she had volunteered for the second.

He clutched at her.

He kissed her neck. Her cheek. Her forehead. "I missed you..."

He whispered, giving her the only thing he could think of at the moment, though he already knew there was so much more that needed to be said and done, not just between them, but with others. Others who he hoped, he prayed could help the woman he loved.

But for now, it was just the two of them, and for now, he could only give her what she had asked for.

"I missed you so much, Katie. Please. Promise me you'll never leave me again. Promise me you'll stay home, w-where we can be together, always."

His cock was softening, but he didn't care. He didn't try to move, or to move Katrina either. He just held her there, in his lap, in their car, in the airport car park, and told his wife over and over again how much he missed her, and how much he needed her to never return to army life, ever again.

And now, as he felt her shudder with yet more sobs, and wondered what the hell she had been through out there without his knowledge, he sincerely meant every word of it.

"I missed you from the bottom of my heart, Katrina. S-so... please, for me. Don't ever,

ever go back."

---

"Okay--wallet, cell phone, keys, headphones, and..." Morexis patted down each pants pocket as he ran through the list of essentials, then paused. Normally, he would take his headphones wherever he went to jam out on, but tonight he reconsidered--he

certainly wouldn't need them right now. He stood in front of the mirror at his bathroom, combing through the fur on his head, not bothering with the rest or he'd be there all night. He wore a short-sleeved, Beaulo style shirt and some light brown cargo pants.

"Good lord, stop fidgeting with your hair, already! I have no idea where you got that from..." Stephen leaned against the doorjamb, watching his son nervously check every facet of his appearance. The young man had brushed his teeth six times, taken two showers, and even clipped his toenails-- "Just in case, that would be the

_ one _ thing I wouldn't have touched and she'd notice!"--in preparation for his reunion date with his longtime friend.

Reaching for his deodorant spray, Morexis mumbled, "Okay, just a little more--"

"Ah-ah!!" The calmer canine lunged across the counter, snatching the can from his son's hands. "You're plenty fine, pal. Just take a deep breath and relax, man!" Morexis did so, closing his eyes and settling them resolutely on his father's gaze. "You're right." He turned the light off and they retreated to the living room.

After sitting on the couch and watching the TV--and for Morexis, the clock--the doorbell finally rang, and the man practically flipped off the cushions.

Stephen called out from the loveseat, "Good luck, bud. Better be home in time for curfew!"

Morrie playfully saluted him with a middle finger and a smirk, stepped to the foyer, and took another deep breath.

The front door opened, the porch light illuminating a semi-casually dressed, stunning visage of a thin yet shapely wood mouse, about a foot shorter than the canine. Upon looking up to see his excited face and wildly wagging tail, she beamed with recognition. Locking eyes, he matched her enthusiasm. "Sabrina! It's been so long! I....

I missed you."

By Jeeves

Featuring DreamGod