A Rose for a Knight: Part I
The tavern had fallen into disuse and disrepair, the little vixen the only employee left after her father passed on. She worked hard to keep it presentable, but tables needed fixing, walls needed mending, and there was only so much one little fox could do all by herself. Now, two years after the old fox had passed, his daughter Rosaline Bridewell worked hard, a wet rag moving over the heavy oak countertop of the bar that was her inheritance and her burden, polishing it to a dull sheen.
She stared into her reflection idly, taking stock of her features as she walked her fingertips over the counter before heaving a sigh and staring around the empty room. The tavern had gone into decline since the war began. The people of Isoca were loath to spend gold loosely since Osudin launched an attack on the port city of Beltran. Her customers had been fewer and fewer since then, until it was only her, behind the bar, with her damp rag for company.
The sound of a door opening made the vixen's pointed ears perk. A tall form, broad and solid, draped in a deep brown cloak. The hood was pushed back, large paws knocking dust from the fabric, before it was swept away and tossed over a thick forearm. Once the cloak was gone, his armor, dented, dull, war-worn, but still useful was clearly visible, as was the broadsword at his hip. A knight, to be sure. He was handsome, and fairly young, his jaw square, cheeks defined, his dark hair pulled back into a tail at the base of his neck. Amber eyes spotted her from her perch, snaked up and down the visible portion of her body, and the wolf at the door smiled at her.
"Greetings, m'lady." The voice that came from her lupine visitor was deep, smooth, smoky, matching the charcoal grey of his fur. She moved around the bar, moving smoothly toward him and taking the cloak he offered to her and hanging it on a peg. She looked up at him, dropping into a small curtsy and rising gracefully.
"Good evening, good sir. How can I be of service?" She moved back, motioning for him to follow, leading him toward the bar. He followed after her, taking the time to admire the fox as she moved behind the heavy oak counter. She was quite a beauty, her hair a deep shade of auburn, curling down her back and around breasts that looked quite large on her slender frame. Her deep orange fur was complimented by the simple white dress she wore, the cut long and flattering to her shape. The hem fluttered around her bare footpaws as she moved, swishing and swaying like a bell.
"A pint of ale, and a room with a hot bath, if you've got it, would be most helpful, m'lady." He reached into a small pouch at his hip, dropping a few coins onto the counter with a metallic clink that the fox hadn't heard in quite some time, proving to her that he could pay. She nodded her head eagerly, returning his jovial smile as he settled on the stool before her.
"Right away, sir." His formal address brought a pale pink to her cheeks, the fox blushing prettily. She hadn't been called a lady in quite some time. Usually, patrons referred to her as 'wench,' or, if they entered already drunk, 'bitch' or 'cunt' were more apt to be her label. She enjoyed the kindness. She rose up on tiptoe to reach a large mug on the shelf behind her, moving then towards the large ale barrel. She opened the tap, letting the amber liquid slosh and foam into the cup. She took off some of the head, and then refilled, bringing it to the wolf and setting it down. She collected the coins, all pure gold, more than enough to pay for the drink and a room for the night. She watched him raise the glass to his lips as she dropped the coin into the metal lockbox beneath the counter, enjoying the sound they made. She watched him drink, stepping from around the bar. "Can I get you anything else before I prepare your room?"
The wolf wiped his mouth with a forearm before responding, the ale dripping down his throat and into his belly. "No, thank you. It's been a long journey, and a hot bath and a soft bed would be wonderful, for now." He grinned at her, and then finished the ale in one long draught, setting the mug on the bar and unstrapping his sword, setting it aside.
"My name is Robin Clarendon, knight-errant, my lady, at your service." The wolf took a deep bow, his mane of hair dipping and trailing over the curves of his shoulder. The formal greetings made sense, now.
"Greetings, sir knight," she said, dropping into a low curtsy for him, her shift splaying nicely on the stone floor. "My name is Rosaline Bridewell, and I am the owner of this tavern." True, it wasn't completely honest, but it was close enough. She nodded her head, taking his empty glass from him and setting it aside to be washed, turning the glass upside down to let the amber liquid run onto the counters. "If you'll just follow me this way, sir, I'll get a room set up and a bath run for you in no time." She moved from behind the counter, her footsteps soft and light, and motioned him to follow up a staircase to the rooms kept for private uses. The wolf followed her closely, a slight limp in his gait, careful of the walls and door frames due to his bulkier size and his fully-armed and armored form. His eyes roved over her frame, taking in the curves that her dress both amplified and hindered, depending on the shift of the material.
"Lead the way, Lady Rosaline. I'll follow as best I can." He walked behind, enjoying the gentle shift and sway of her hips and rear, the gentle counter-sway of her tail from side to side. It had been quite some time since he'd been in the company of an attractive female, but he was tired, and his bones ached with weariness. Perhaps he'd find energy for that, too.
The fox lead him down the small hallway, choosing the room farthest away from the street for the lupine; there was more privacy that way. She noticed the 's limp, pausing and offering him her arm. "Would you -" she started, but paused again, knowing that the wolf, being a soldier, was probably a proud sort. She smiled her best womanly smile, still offering the male her arm. "I'm afraid it's a bit chill, good sir knight. Would you mind staying close, for warmth?" she asked, blushing lightly. She was being quite forward, and it might seem untoward on her part, but it was the only way she could think of to get him to accept her offer. He couldn't resist a damsel in distress, after all. At least, that's what she hoped. It would allow her to help the wolf along, as well as keeping her warm.
Thankfully, the wolf nodded his head, his smile warm and broad. His pride was intact, but the cold was indeed hard, even beneath the layers of muscle and fur, on the 's war-wound, and he couldn't help but welcome the soft warmth of the vixen pressed against him. He placed a brawny arm around hers, leaning just slightly on her and watching in admiration as she managed to keep her pace while shouldering his weight. It was enough to steady him, and help him keep that pace as they arrived at her door.
"Thank you, Lady Rosaline. It is very kind of you. This ol' soldier has seen the business end of far too many weapons for his own good." He chuckled under his breath, stopping at the door she lead him to. She returned the laugh, her voice soft, husky, but still delightfully feminine. She seemed to be alright with it, if not comfortable, at least. She reached for the leather thong at her waist, pulling the room key off with the soft snap of leather, unlocking the solid wooden door and stepping in, holding the door open for him and motioning him inward.
"Please, come in. I change the sheets nightly, so if you'd like to lay down, please don't mind me." The room was small, and simple, but comfortable. A large bed dominated the room entirely, piled high with blankets and lush furs to keep warm in the cold. A small table and a chest for keeping goods occupied one corner, and in the other, behind a folding screen to section off the room, was a large tub made for the largest of furries. She set the key down on the small table and moved quickly towards the tub, folding the screen back and pumping the tap, sending warm water to fill it up. She felt the temperature as it spilled, and she knew she'd have to run to the basement to add more heat to the fire that kept the water hot. She worked hard, slim muscles in her back and arms pumping as she did.
The wolf watched it all with interest, admiring her dedication to her job, taking in the shape of her before he took to undressing himself. He removed his armor and weapon with long-practiced swiftness, the motions as familiar to him as breathing, and then slipped the white cotton under-tunic over his head until he was wearing only a pair of black leather breeches. The wolf was muscled, for his size, each breath seeming to increase the width and solidity of his chest, each exhale bringing the hardness of his muscle into amazing relief. He was certainly well built, but that was hardly his most noticeable feature. A series of long scars tore through the dusty ebony of his fur, a gash from his shoulder to the bottom of his chest, one across his belly, and one that dipped below the waistline of his pants, a roadmap of past pain and endless battle. He moved forward, dusting his paws off on his pants and leaning over the fox, wrapping his paws around the handle of the pump to help her.
The vixen turned as she felt the warmth of the male at her back, feeling those heavy arms slide over her shoulders. She smiled, heat rising in her cheeks as she turned and gave the male a friendly bump with her shoulder. The scars and gashes stopped her, but only for a moment, again rubbing her shoulder against that solidly muscled chest.
"Please, good sir knight. This is my job. Go rest your weary bones." She said, shooing him away gently. He nodded his head to her and stepped aside, watching her work with admiration. Few males worked as hard as the vulpine did, let alone females. She was certainly one to watch.
"Very well, madam. I will avail myself of your hospitality, and rest these weary bones." The fox worked until she had the tub half way full. She stopped, rubbing her paws against her thighs, and nodded to her guest.
"I'll return in a moment to finish filling the tub, and I will bring some soap and a towel, if it pleases you, sir." The wolf nodded in response, fixing his amber gaze on her with a broad, clearly appreciative smile.
"Thank you, my dear," was all he said, returning the simple nod that she gave him as she stepped out the door. He chuckled, shaking his head as he unlaced his breeches, slipping them off his thighs. She was a beauty, that fox, but she wasn't flirting. She was simply being a good hostess. He stepped into the tub, sinking into the warm water with a loud sigh. The water was wonderful, if not a bit lukewarm, and the wolf began to cup water in his paws, bringing it up onto his torso and shoulders, moving it down his arms, dirt, dust and blood coming up and staining the water a murky color.
The fox, meanwhile, padded down to the basement, adding more wood to the fire that kept their water stores piping hot, adding more water for their morning baths. It was an ingenious system, really. Water was pumped up from a well into storage containers, heated by a fire, and then routed through pumps into a few select bedrooms, hers included. Her father was quick, if he'd been anything. She headed back up the stairs, grabbing a bar of soap and a large, clean towel from a small closet door, carrying both in her arms as she pushed the door open.
"Here you are, Sir Clarendon, your -" The vixen stopped as she realized that the wolf had hopped into the lukewarm water, shielding her eyes with a paw. "Oh! I'm - I can't! - Dreadfully sorry!" She turned her back, setting the towel and soap on the small table and clapping her paws to her cheeks, burning a furious red. "I'm frightfully sorry, sir. If - if you want more water, it'll be n-nice and hot...." She trailed off, taking her lower lip delicately between her teeth and chewing lightly on it. "If you need anything, please don't be ashamed to ask for it." She offered as she moved towards the door. Oh, but she felt like such a fool!
The male's soft, gentle laughter only served to further the delightful blush, extending it up to the tips of her ears and holding her from leaving. "Oh, I am sorry, m'lady, but I simply could not wait." He continued to soak himself, his slicked fur looking like midnight itself as he splashed about. "Even warm water is a luxury on the battlefield and on the road." He grinned a grin that could only be described as wolfish, motioning towards the pump. "My apologies for startling you, my dear, but I assure you. I have nothing to hide, if you wish to add more water of a hotter temperature." He rested his paws on the rim of the tub, slouching just a bit more to ensure that all his 'bits and pieces' were hidden beneath the dark surface. "I will not complain. Rather, I thank you for the soap, towel, and your concern." That grin again, and another motion towards the pump.
Rosaline could only blush more, nodding her head as she picked up the soap, offering it to the wolf before returning to the pump. Robin smiled widely as he watched her work, admiring her tenacity. Her arms worked, shoulders and back moving in a gracefully fluid motion.
The water poured out, steaming hot as the wolf lathered up. She worked in silence, but eventually, it began to get the best of her. She brought her smile up into the lupine's eyes. "Where do you hail from, Sir Robin?" she asked, arms still working, the water coming up to about the wolf's upper waist. He hesitated, only shortly, and then stood to bring his lower body out of the water, shrugging slightly and continuing to soap himself. The scar did indeed continue down his belly, past his groin, down his right hip and outer thigh. The flesh looked as if it had been torn apart, and then healed as best it could be. It undoubtedly accounted for his limp on that side. It looked old, but still very unpleasant.
"I come from lands far from here, m'lady. The country of Freidenor, far to the east. 'Tis a beautiful place, my dear, quite green. But your lands needed our help, and our king came to the aid of your own. So," he said, gesturing to his naked form, sweeping his paws from his chest downward and outward, presenting himself, "here I am." The fox blushed a very pretty pink as her gaze was lead from the wide vee of his chest down to the tapered slope of his hips, his strong thighs, and the hefty maleness resting between them. She averted those pretty blue eyes of hers quickly, turning away to give him some privacy.
"I see," she said, looking back, wincing just slightly at the scar tearing down the lupine's flank, trying her best not to stare at it. "That is a terrible scar, " she murmured quietly, lowering her head almost reverentially. The wolf, for his part, continued scrubbing himself as if he bathed before females all the time; in truth, he was simply not very modest, and far too in need of a bath to worry much over it. At the mention of his scar, however, his face darkened, and he glanced down at it, his deep voice a bit distant as he replied.
"Yes. It was a very...." He paused, his eyes joining his voice in a place far away, a place filled with violence and despair, with the clanging of metal against metal, and the agonizing squelch of metal against flesh. The wolf shuddered, clearing his thoughts and bringing himself back to the lovely vixen before him who was gazing on him with concern clearly written on her pretty features. "It was a difficult battle, my lady." He hesitated for a moment before continuing. "I nearly died that night, and at the time, I wish I had." He sighed, heavily, settling back in the water, the soap draining from his form and adding to the level of the basin. "It was nearly a year before my body recovered, and my will took much longer than that." His eyes gleamed like gold coins in the low light of the room's candles, flickering and swirling with the flames' dance.
The fox moved forward, gently easing the bar of soap from the lupine's paw, moving around him and working the bar and her fingers through the fur of the male's back, where he couldn't reach. She worked over battle-hardened, battle-scarred muscle, kneading soreness out where her limited talents could, inciting groans of pleasure from the male. He shuddered slightly as her paws traced over the myriad cuts and slashes down and near his spine, unable to remember the last time someone had touched him with such concern. "You poor dear...." She murmured, softly, working the soap into his dark fur, moving her paws in small, soothing circles. His deep baritone jolted her out of her reverie.
"No, my dear, I have accepted my lot, and each scar tells a story, and invokes memories of things I should not forget, even if I might like to." The poor wolf sounded so sad, and so tired, but also resolute. He carried a great will, the lupine did, and great courage, and something clenched in the vixen's heart as she listened, nodding her head in sympathy. "I know there are many who bear far greater burdens, and this is only the past." He reached down, trailing fingers down the long, twisted scar on his leg. The fox nodded her head with a smile, having worked down until the wolf's body disappeared into the dark water. She pressed the soap into the male's paw, shaking her head.
"You are so very brave, sir knight." It was all she said, nodding her head as she reached beneath the tub, withdrawing a small basin and filling it with water from the pump. "If you settle back, I would gladly wash your hair for you." She couldn't help but grin. It may have seemed like special treatment, but it had become common practice for her; she was used to caring for someone in every way. The wolf looked up at her, as if he'd been far away in his mind, and glanced around at the vixen as if she had just entered the room. His sad visage shifted into a grateful smile, and he settled back against the tub, spreading his brawny arms once more over the rim, giving the fox a dazzling display of anatomy. His hair'd become quite long in his battles and travels, and trailed far down over the edge. It was rather tangled, due to its length, which was why he kept it back in a tail when he had the time.
"Thank you, m'lady. You are most kind." He closed his eyes as her fingers went to work, the soap washing away dirt and tangles under her skilled paws, soon followed by gentle massages to the scalp beneath. "Far too kind." The vixen, for her part, laughed gently, graciously.
"Not at all, good sir. It is nice to have someone to care for, again." She hummed a quiet, soothing tune in a gentle alto voice. She was not a professional singer, but her voice wasn't harsh on the ears, either. She scrubbed gently, enjoying the gentle murrs and rumbles of pleasure the wolf gave in response to her attentions. "You have beautiful hair, sir knight. Long, and lustrous." She smiled, getting a particularly stubborn tangle free, and combing it down. "If you'd like, I have a brush." She let the offer hang in the air, leaving it for him to decide. The lupine, for his part, nearly missed her question, lost in a haze of relaxation, nearly falling asleep.
"Mm? Oh, yes, of course, my lovely angel. That would be fine." He smiled as she continued, rolling his shoulders as his eyes closed once more. "It seems I may be in your debt. It has been...far too long." The wolf lay back against the tub, simply basking in the warmth of the bath, and of the vixen's attentions. Impulsively, his paw went out, taking one of hers into it and bringing it to his lips, kissing the center of her palm, letting his lips linger against the soft, damp fur for a moment. The vixen blushed a pretty red as he did, feeling the warmth of his lips nuzzling into her paw. She shook her head gently, though she made no move to pull away.
"Sir Robin, you have served our good lands for so long." She let the fingers of her free paw trail through the dark, soapy mane, a simple, affectionate touch. "Why shouldn't someone take care of you?" Indeed, it came as second nature to her; she'd cared so long for her father before he passed that it was nothing out of the ordinary. She gently took her paw back from the lupine, urging him to sit forward, and then dumping the basin over his head, washing the sudsy mane out and leaving it clean and dark. Setting the basin aside, she gave him a slight curtsy. "I'll leave you to finish up and rest, sir knight...." She murmured, quietly, though it was obvious she was loath to leave him.
The motion at last roused Robin from his relaxed stupor as the vixen made to leave. He stood without regard for his wet nudity, water cascading down his scarred, muscular form to splatter into the tub loudly. He reached out with the combat reflexes of a born warrior and grasped her upper arm, but with gentle pressure, tugging the little fox towards him. He stepped from the tub, and soon she was pressed against the hard wall of his front, water dripping down from his muzzle to hers as one finger rested under her chin, guiding her gaze up to meet his. His head bent low, lips almost touching hers, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath upon her cheeks.
"No, m'lady. I need to thank you...." He closed the distance between them, his lips meeting hers, parted just slightly, pressing a soft kiss to her mouth, which was met with gentle pressure as the vixen rose up on tiptoe to meet him, her pretty blue eyes closed as she kissed the male back with a slow, gentle passion that burned in her heart and, she hated to admit, in her loins. He pulled away, very slowly, easing his lips from hers, only to continue, "...Properly."
"You want....properly?" she asked, her voice hazy, to match the dreamy expression on her muzzle, the room seeming to spin just slightly as she was pressed close to the male. The clean scent of him, soap and musk, quickly went to her head, and she leaned against the wolf for support. He provided it, nodding slowly as his lips moved on a treacherous path down her cheek, over her slender throat, and down the pretty slope of her bared shoulder.
"Oh yes, my pretty little rose. Your kindness will be repaid as best I can." He whispered into her fur, the deep black a gorgeous contrast to the clean brown of her body. Her body responded to him, the vixen rising up, skin blushing, paws coming up to grip the firm curve of his strong arms, tilting her head to one side to grant him better access to her sensitive neck. Her hair cascaded down over her shoulder as she did, brushing the solidity of his chest, the deep auburn looking almost blood-red against his solid onyx form.
He reached around her with heavy arms to unlace her bodice, placing feathery kisses on her shoulder, collarbone and, as the garment fell, he moved towards the tops of her breasts, his other strong paw gently holding her hip, keeping her steady as he murred lowly, affectionately, nuzzling up against the upper curves of her bust. The fox's skin flushed as he pushed her shift down further, making quick work of her clothing. Her body was bare now, her fur glossy and well cared for. It was immaculate, her skin untouched, save for a bruise at her hip, healing now, but looking suspiciously like a large paw. He stood, brushing his lips along her body as his tail flagged back and forth behind him, excitedly.
Rosaline laughed, softly, as his tail swished, flicking water here and there. She ran fingers through his wet mane of hair, resting her cheek between his ears as his head dipped low. "Good sir knight," she cooed, her lips twitching upward into a teasing smile. "You are making a mess of my hotel room." Her paws cupped his cheeks, lifting his head up from her body, her face flushed and blushed. "What say we get you dry and move somewhere a bit more comfortable?" She offered. Her eyes drifted over toward the bed. She'd made it so nicely for him, after all. Robin chuckled deeply, despite the fact that his wolfhood was now stiffening and sliding from his sheath, but he took the nearby towel, running it quickly over his form. She clucked her tongue, shaking her head at him, and helped, patting the lupine down gently. Her paws ruffled up his mane of hair, moving downward, over his neck and broad shoulders, patting his chest dry, the towel folding and rippling over his stomach muscles. She took the towel and gave the swelling maleness between his legs a quick once-over, ignoring the masculine chuckle that floated down from above her, and then moved lower, running the fabric over corded thighs and strong footpaws. She circled around him and worked his back, gently, mindful of his war wounds, and finished off but rubbing the delightful mounds of his rear, firm and tight, before fluffing his long tail dry.
He surprised her as she finished, by sweeping her up into his brawny arms as if she weighed nothing. She blushed furiously as he swooped her up, giving a quiet giggle as she wound her arms around his neck. She peppered his throat and shoulder with soft kisses, her lips brushing against the scarred fur, feetpaws kicking lightly, playfully as he carried her across the room. He set her down gently atop the bed, as if she were a priceless treasure, and then joined her, laying atop her, stroking her deep-red hair and then kissing her long and lovingly on the mouth, letting his tongue lap at her lips this time, begging entrance to her mouth. She accepted his request, and those pretty lips parted, opening and taking his tongue inside, brushing her own up against his and inciting a moan of desire from the pair of them, bodies arching upward against one another in arousal.
Rosaline welcomed his weight atop her, her cheeks burning as she kissed him back, lips parting and letting his tongue inside; she didn't know where this was coming from, but dear God above, she was enjoying it. She let out a quiet moan of pleasure as the wolf kissed his way down her body to her lush breasts, and swirled his tongue around the tip of them. Her body responded to him, her flesh tightening, hardening into gentle points. She felt full, heavy, her body aching for his attentions, as much as they made her squirm. He closed his mouth first on one and then on the other, sucking and licking at it with careful attention, his warm, panting breath flowing across each one and helping them achieve that beautiful hardness. Robin groaned, his body achingly hard now, but he fully intended on enjoying and pleasuring the little vixen to the fullest extent, for her kindness. He looked up, moving between her legs, his broad shoulders parting them slowly as he eased between them, grinning up at her as he drew his tongue down her tight belly. "Now you relax, my angel, and let me help you" he cooed as he reached the hot, damp place between her legs, her body hot, swollen with arousal, showing all the signs of her need for him.
"Oh!" was all she could manage as his tongue danced over the entrance to her femininity before he placed his mouth on her feminine flower, parting it with his tongue. He growled low, flicking the tip of his tongue first slowly, then more quickly against the swollen nub at the apex of her lips before drawing his tongue up along the length of her slit. Her scent and taste filled his world with burning desire, and the soft, gasping cries she gave him in return were music to his ears. She writhed beneath his ministrations like an Eastern belly dancer, her stomach rippling as she moaned his name, long, low, husky, and her voice trembling with the edge of desire. His paws found the lush curves of her rear, and she lifted her hips to meet him, gasping softly as he lapped at her like a thirsty animal, gripping her tightly. He longed to bury himself in her, but paced himself, knowing that her pleasure came first, and then, they would come together.
Rosaline whimpered Robin's name, sweetly, over and over again, her body shaking as her womanhood dripped onto that voracious tongue, her eyelashes fluttering as that wicked, wicked muscle twisted and spiraled inside her, flicking relentlessly over her swollen clitoris. She gasped as her body conformed to his tongue, her body tight, her femininity dripping down onto his oral appendage. He thrust it in and out of the writhing, moaning vixen, pausing only to very gently nip at her with the barest brushes of his teeth, grinning around her sex as she yelped and tightened herself around his tongue. He lifted his head, his eyes sparkling wickedly as he rested her paws on her hips, holding her down to the bed.
"Let yourself go for me, Rosaline. Come for me, my pretty little rose." He lowered his mouth and tongue to her once more, increasing the pace of his wet sucking, his muzzle working busily between the fox's thighs. The vixen was tight, wired, so close to orgasm, her expression glowing with sheer pressure, her breath coming in short, needy pants as she whispered his name, faster now, the words caught in her throat as pressure built between her legs. She whined his name, softly, over and over again, her body tightening around him in short bursts. Colors popped before her eyes, her body contracting and spasming as she cried his name, her body exploding into climax, fairly gushing onto his muzzle, back arched into an almost perfect 'c' of pleasure, her head tossed back into the bounteous pillows, her chest heaving as she panted, her body jerking as he pushed her to an earth-shattering orgasm. Robin lapped her up as if he were dying of thirst, drinking her down and digging his fingers into her firm rear, murring as she came for him. His member throbbed beneath his belly, aching to feel that intimate part of her surround it with her wet heat.
He climbed up her body as she she shivered beneath him, her body reeling in the afterglow of climax, shuddering with small aftershocks of pleasure. Her eyes were lidded as his lips touched down against hers, grinning as he kissed her gently. "Mmm...." His voice was a low, deep rumble as he touched his lips to hers once more, "That was wonderful, my dear Rosaline." He grinned at her, brushing his muzzle up against hers, lapping gently at the side of her cheek. "If you will allow me, there's much more." He kissed her once more, and she rose up to meet him, her eyes lidded as they touched, soft, wet, burning with heat. Her entire form felt like a flame, body slick with sweat as she looked up at him, glowing, and her response a simple nod as her paws moved slowly downward.
A sweet pinkness rose up beneath her fur as her fingers curled around the lupine's hard length, testing its hardness, its size, in delicate paws. "Oh, my...." She blushed even more as the wolf moved, letting his swollen tip rub up against the length of Rosaline's wet, quivering labia, his body shuddering at the feel of her warm, intimate flesh touching his most sensitive area. He groaned, softly, bringing his lips down to her throat once more, kissing her gently, a soft sigh of contentment coming from his lips as she nodded her consent, rubbing her cheek up between his pointed ears, nose tucking behind one and giving him a soft, sweet lick. She cooed as she fingered the hard girth of him, her thumb tracing the slit at his tip. "Please...?" She asked, finally.
Robin couldn't stop the swell of pleasure that rose up inside of him, and he kissed her again, slowly, tenderly, even as he eased the pounding tip of his maleness into her sex. He squeezed golden eyes shut, and his panting breath whistled through his gritted teeth as he slid into her. His body flexed with muscle as he reigned in the need to pound himself into her with all of his lusty might. He groaned, low, guttural, deep within his chest, gasping at the tightness of her. She gripped his wolfhood like a slick velvet vise, and he could feel every last inch of her around him. She herself could feel him as he slipped inward, pushing forward into her body, the hard steeliness of him drawing sweet gasps and moans of pleasure from her lips, mixed with only the slightest cries of discomfort as he spread her wide.
She moaned his name, long and low, her paws wrapping around his arms, feeling them stretch and swell in her grasp, amazed at the control the big male had in his gentleness with her. Her body was wet, hot with arousal, and tight with need for him. She let out a low gasp, her lips meeting his in a sweet, passionate kiss, her voice rising in a squeal as he pushed himself even deeper. He snorted warm breath out of his nose as he hilted himself within her, pushing heavily at the end of her femininity. He held himself there, letting the vixen get used to his size. She cried out against him ass he felt her hips press up against his, the vixen panting roughly as she gently began to grind herself up against him, rubbing the swollen hardness of her clitoris against the base of his hardness. Her paws squeezed his arms tightly as he held her there, letting her adjust; he was quite large, befitting his large stature, and the size of him made the slight fox want to scream with a beautiful mixture of discomfort and pleasure.
Finally, she nodded her head, and the lupine began a gentle withdrawal, pulling himself out of her tight hotness, moving with an exacting slowness, greatly enjoying his exit from the wet warmth. She clutched at him as he began to withdraw, her forehead coming to rest against his muscular shoulder, feeling the scarred fur flex and ripple with the power contained under the softness. He held for a moment, almost clear of her, only the tip of him inside her, and then he plunged back into her with a growl of lust, a bit faster this time. He kissed her on the mouth, thrusting his tongue inside, even as he penetrated her sweet femininity once more. She threw her head back as he pushed into her, lips parting only to meet his, filled suddenly in almost every way, accepting his tongue, her own pressing against it as she was filled by his wolfhood. She moaned his name, but the sound came out only as a screaming growl of pleasure as the lupine sped up his thrusts.
Robin broke the kiss suddenly as he tossed his head back, dark mane of hair flying, growling her name out as he panted and snarled, his strong chest heaving as he pistoned in and out of her with a fervent ardor, a slight sheen of sweat gleaming on his onyx hide. He growled and groaned, burning with desire as he thrust into this sweet creature who moved upward to meet him, making a lovely soft pat-patting as they collided, his lovely black mixing with her deep mahogany brown. He lowered his head again, lapping and nipping at her breasts as they bounced with each of his strong thrusts, her legs rising, wrapping around his waist instinctually, her footpaws locking beneath his tail, feeling the powerful thrust and flex of his buttocks as he pushed in and out of her. Her paws went up further to wrap in his flying locks of hair, twisting tight as he pushed her father and farther along the edge. "Oh, oh God, R-Rob...Robin!" She yiffed loudly, the high, keening sounds pushing her further along the precarious path to the orgasm that was building between her legs and in her mind.
Her sweet sounds of pleasure only pushed the wolf further, his paws repositioning themselves to grip the sweet flesh of her hips, adding leverage to his powerful thrusts. She closed her eyes, her body tightening, stomach rippling as she clenched and contracted as she flexed and moved around his thick length. She couldn't help it anymore; he pushed her too far, and the vixen was sent spiraling over the edge of a tremendous climax. She dripped onto him, her body gushing as she tightened and squeezed all around his length, the vixen curling herself around the wolf's torso as she sobbed his name, her body tense, and then unbearably loose.
The wolf rode her climax out with her, and felt himself pushed over the edge of ecstasy along with it. He drive himself deeply into her welcoming, wet warmth, his back arching as he pushed himself inward, his head falling back once again to cry out her name at the top of his lungs, growling ferally as he pushed his swollen knot forward, pressing into her deeply. He felt as if his shaft expanded even more, exploding into a veritable geyser of his seed, spraying deep into her most intimate flesh. He lost himself as the waves of pleasure washed over him, and he came, and came.
Rosaline shuddered, clutching her lupine lover as she buried her face into his powerful chest, gasping, her body clutching his magnificent maleness as it gushed into her, seemingly endless amounts of his seed rushing into her, the excess dripping out around her thighs and onto the sheets beneath them. The wolf's fists balled into those sheets, his brawny body shuddering from the aftershocks of his intense orgasm. They relaxed against one another as their climaxes rode out, eyes shut as she panted into his chest, his muzzle planted between her ears, panting into her beautiful hair. He stayed buried in her, gently hunching into her with a low, hoarse gasp. He kissed her slowly, passionately, his lips against hers as she returned the kiss, their tongues touching sweetly, slicking against one another and dueling playfully for dominance. He wrapped his arms around her waist, gently, shifting onto one side and staring down into her eyes.
"Oh, Rosaline," he murmured, covering her cheek and lips and forehead with sweet butterfly kisses as his breath panted and his heart raced in his chest, pounding against hers. "That was wonderful, my sweet little vixen." She nodded her assent, sighing contentedly against him as she curled herself up against his torso, closing her eyes, her breathing evening out, chest rising and falling gently as sleep overtook her. The wolf couldn't help but laugh, closing his eyes as he shifted gently, moving his shaft within her and making her murr in pleasure, his chuckle turning into a deep, rumbling murr that followed them both into sleep. There was a mess, to be sure, but it would be cleaned the following day. For now, they'd sleep. And sleep they did, locked tightly in the others' arms.