Well as you can see, I am not gifted with the most prolific production. I mostly just work on these things in little fits and starts. This one has been brewing for about a year or so.

As always, I am pleased at the favorites and comments. If you liked this story, please do a little of both!

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THE URGE

By P

THE MORNING

The youngish dragon sat sullenly in the breakfast nook of their new apartment, idly brushing bits of down off of his hide. The bed was new - hell the whole place was new, and the down comforter that had been left in the linen closet by the last family to live there had kept snagging on his scales last night as he turned over trying to find a comfortable way to sleep. He had finally drifted off around 2-ish, and had awoken as the sun cracked through the window. The bed had smelled like otters, he thought. Kind of like a mix between sandalwood and clams.

The chair wasn't a treat either. The whole apartment, aside from being run down and a little musty, had been built to accommodate anthros quite a bit smaller than dragons. It wasn't that he banged his head on the ceiling or anything; it was just that it seemed a lot closer than usual...and he wasn't even his full size. He'd caught his mom hunching her shoulders a little bit, maybe subconsciously, when she came through the doorway like she was now.

"G'morning" she mumbles as she pads across the tiny kitchen and effortlessly scoops a coffee cup off of the top shelf by the old refrigerator. She was dressed in a medium-cut blouse, accenting her robin's-egg blue scales. It was functional without being too revealing. Her eyes were at half-mast, but lingered for a moment on the half-eaten fruit pie and sugary soda on the table before her son. She sighs. He should be eating a nutritious breakfast but...well maybe she would just let it pass this time. Better to have a fragile peace here at the morning breakfast table than start up with a new argument that would in short order turn into the same old argument that had little or nothing to do with breakfast and everything to do with why they had moved away from a city populated with their kind to this cramped little apartment with the paper-thin walls. Oh lord, the walls....

She grabs the coffee pot and pours herself a cup, partially to take her mind away from her own sleepless night and partially to just get herself moving again. She leans against the counter, pursing her lips and regarding the younger dragon. He was still wearing the same pair of jeans from yesterday, but at least he had changed his t-shirt. She winces inwardly. Him being there with her wasn't her fault. As a younger dragoness she would have relished the chance to pull up stakes and move somewhere totally new, but she knew her son didn't feel the same. He undoubtedly missed his friends, school, and familiar neighborhood. "So!" she says, maybe a little too cheerily, "do you have plans to go out today? There's supposed to be someone here between noon and 2 to turn on the cable, and I'd like it if you were here to let them in."

He takes a sip off of his soda, washing down the last of the fruit pie. "No, I don't think so, I think that I'm just going to hang around here, maybe unpack some of the stuff in the boxes, that sort of thing. I'll explore the rest of the complex after lunch." And maybe find out who or what the neighbors were, he added to himself.

She finishes her coffee. "Great. As usual, I'll be ho...hhhome.." she swallows, her talons making a momentary scrabbling noise as she grips the edge of the counter for support. She turns away from her son for a moment, a blush rising to her cheeks, mirroring the warm, tickling sensation between her scaled legs. Her son looks at her, eyes narrowing in confusion. She shivers all over, while at the same time raising a claw in front of her muzzle and faking a cough. "...at...at about six tonight." She's back in control and up to full speed. "We'll unpack all the kitchen stuff and go grocery shopping. I'll make us a good meal and then hopefully we'll see what passes for cable TV in this berg." She turns around to face him; eyes bright and lively, meaning to say something else, and her eyes rove over her son. She looks hungry. For a moment male dragon flirts across her subconscious-ness, and then the feeling is gone as quickly as it had arrived.

THE SUBWAY

The subway was too small, also, and the female dragon had to turn sideways a little bit just to get through the sliding doors. She had looked up and down the car at all the other anthros, and for a moment was frightened at the possibility that there would be no room in the car for her. Finally she spotted two unused seats near the middle, and had squirmed her way down the already moving car and sat down gracefully in the hard plastic seat with her scaled legs crossed and her purse held firmly in her lap. She sighed, looking out of the window into the rushing blackness of the subway tunnel. She knew that because of her species, she stuck out like a sore paw here in this midwestern city. A lot of the cities in the mountains had their fair share of dragons, and as a genus they generally stuck together. She felt lonely for her kind, and fished inside her purse until she found the picture she'd always kept there in one of the inner pockets. Her: looking sleeker and freshly molted smiling for the picture-taker. Her husband: standing tall and rigid balanced on his thick red tail, plasma assault rifle cradled in his forearms and military insignia on his chest- and shoulder-scales. That had been so many years ago, before even her son was born. She traces a claw along the creased photo. He had been gone for years and years, and while the military had given her his pension after he died, the money hadn't done anything to fill the hole in her life that his absence had left.

She felt she was being watched. She looked up and there was a tiny little skunk cub perched on the seat in front of her, looking at her over the back. Their eyes met, and she did her best to give the little one a smile. His eyes got big, and too late she realized that what she might think was a friendly smile might look like a gaping mouth full of fangs to another species. The cub disappeared with a little squeak, and she heard him asking his mommy if there was a monster on the subway with them. "Shhh." said the mother skunk. "Don't be rude."

The dragoness folded the picture and put it carefully away. Inside her purse were also an empty prescription bottle and a note from her doctor back in the mountain city they had so recently left. Until recently the bottle had been full of a chemical estrus blocker, more commonly known as 'heat pills.' The dragoness had been taking them for years and years now, having no time or desire to mate again with her own kind, much less bear another dragon cub. She glances at her watch; the pharmacy should be closing for lunch in another thirty minutes or so, and she'd hoped to make it there before lunchtime, then off to visit her new job and set up her work area.

THE APARTMENT

The young dragon had spent most of the morning going through the stacks and stacks of cardboard boxes in his room, finding his videogame system and figuring out how to plug it into the ancient TV in the living room. With a grunt of satisfaction he pushed disk into the system, and soon sparkling graphics filled the screen. He takes one of the controllers in his claw, and looks sadly at the other, unused one sitting next to the machine. He misses playing games with his other friends in that city far away, and after a moment snaps the game console off. He coils the controller cord carefully; placing it next to the system, then does the same with the other one. With no video input, the TV screen is blank, and he catches sight of himself in its reflection. He turns a little bit, running a claw down his chest. Not bad, he thinks. He had gone from a small, orange-ish cub to a deeper red in the space of a year, his hind legs becoming more muscled as his tail got thicker and longer. His chest- and shoulder-scales have filled out a bit, too. He bares his fangs, grinning at his faint reflection. Pretty fearsome now and mostly fully-grown, he thinks. He sucks up his chest, flexing his new muscles. Maybe this year in school he'd...but oh wait, he'd be the only dragon in school. He deflates a little bit. How would the other, furred anthros take to him?

He flops down on the couch, grimacing a little at its small size. There's a magazine with pictures of the new city sitting on the coffee table and he picks it up idly, leafing through the pages. He is aware of a distant thump in the apartment next door; a gentle susurration of voices. Again? He thinks, looking furiously at a picture of two foxes holding hands and generally looking happy. There is some more murmuring, and even some muted laughter floating through the ventilation grate connected to the central air. Slowly it dies away, and for a moment it's very quiet in the apartment. He blinks his eyes; suddenly he is aware that he is no longer really reading the magazine. He's just holding it while his imagination fills in-

There it is, the first squeak. He grins a little foolishly. He's quite grown, and a while a lot of what goes on between a male and a female is a mystery to him, he is pretty sure that he can recognize sex when he hears it. A muffled voice moans, and the squeaking from next door gets a little more rhythmical. He thinks that it is the two rabbits he saw in the hallway yesterday as they were moving in, both watching him carry a box down the hall with their dark eyes and quivering whiskers. For a moment his mind toys with this image, of the female rabbit watching him...the same one that is even now having sex next door, but he quickly (and almost subconsciously) dismisses the idea. While he knew that in some cases anthros would mate outside of their species, the idea held little excitement for him. Still, he wriggles a little bit on the couch, his eyes becoming far away as he listens voyeuristically. He traces a claw down his stomach, where the slit between his legs is already becoming red and puffy. He hooks his claws around his jeans, rising up on the couch to slide them down his legs. He catches a glimpse of himself in the TV again, and is for a moment ashamed and yet very excited.

In a few moments he is in his hand, his young penis emerging fully from it's slit, glistening. He looks down his body at it, feeling the somewhat conical shape in his claws. This feels wrong, he thinks, but also very right. His ears perk up as another moan escapes from the couple next door. He circles the base of his young maleness with his claw, and begins to gently tug upwards. In the space of a few seconds he is already lost in the pleasurable sensation, and his other claw rises unconsciously to stroke his chest scales. The squeaking is getting louder now, and the young dragon is getting hornier and hornier. "Yeah." He breathes. His fist pumps a little and the feeling is delightful. "Yeah...ung..."

KNOCK KNOCK

"Dammit!" he explodes, his legs cramming together as he recoils in shame. Later there would be a dull ache in his groin but for now he is scrambling to get his jeans back on. He catches a last glimpse of his reflection in the TV, looking hot and embarrassed, before he goes to answer the door. "Who is it?" he calls querulously, claw on the doorknob. He is mostly buying time while he stares down at the knot between his thighs, making a noticeable bulge in his jeans. He desperately wills it to go down, and for a moment he blushes. What if it doesn't?

But it does and it's the cable installer, just like his mom said would be here at noon to hook up the TV. He lets the other anthro, a stocky and thick-necked badger with a battered baseball cap and overalls, into the apartment and directs him to the TV, all the while feeling a little guilty about what he had been doing the moment before he knocked on the door. If the badger senses something, though, he doesn't say anything about it. He does the best he can to make conversation with the installer, showing him where the cable comes from the wall and the inputs on the TV. He talks, maybe a little too loudly; for fear that when he trails off the badger might hear the neighbors next door also. He wonders for a moment why he'd be embarrassed, but then there's a lull in the conversation and the installer is behind the TV, fiddling with the wires.

Blissful silence. Well at least they finished up, he thinks, relieved.

THE PHARMACY

The dragoness takes a deep breath, her chest heaving. She reaches out and grabs the elderly otter's lab coat lapels between her claws, gritting her teeth. She was trying to be calm, but it was hard. She pulls the otter towards her, and his bare hind paws leave the floor behind the counter and he dangles helplessly in front of her. Slowly, deliberately, she draws the pharmacist close to her, her narrowing yellow eyes never leaving the wide black ones of the frightened otter.

"Tell me again." She says.

"Well, miss," the otter stammers, doing his best to meet her piercing gaze. "It's like I said. The prescription that you're asking for isn't in stock." His paws tug ineffectually at the front of his coat, and a button pops off, skittering away across the linoleum floor. In a sudden burst of bravery he blurts out "A-and violence isn't going to make it magically appear either, madam." He winces, looking away.

Her eyes, which up until now have begun to glow a menacing shade of red, suddenly fade. Of course the otter is right, she thinks, putting him down. "I'm sorry," she says, suddenly a little embarrassed. "I should have called ahead. I guess that I was upset that I've wasted my morning coming over here."

The otter reads the prescription, and then looks at the older female in front of him. Heat pills, hmm? No wonder this woman was so upset. He looks he over somewhat clinically, noting that for a dragon she has kept herself in pretty good shape for her age. Strong legs, wide hips, a pleasant shade of blue...she must want it bad, the way she's acting. "Tell you what," he says at last. "I can call the chain in the next city, have your prescription shipped here in two, three days. How that-"

"TWO DAYS?" she roars, a momentary flash of red clouding her eyes again. The otter gives out a little squeak in spite of himself. She fights to get herself under control again. There is a smell coming off of her, and even though he is way too old, and not of her species, the pharmacist feels a faint stirring in the back of his mind. Her metabolism must be working overtime, he thinks, as her pheromones wash over him. The scent is intoxicating, and his body, quite against his will, begins to respond. Thoughts of what it would be like to have sex with the dragoness dance across his brain. His eyes flick up towards hers, whiskers twitching. For a moment their eyes lock, and oh god she's thinking the same thing I am!

The moment spins out...a teeter-totter that could dip one way or the other...

She blinks, and the moment is gone. The dragon very deliberately smoothes her blouse, visibly regaining her composure. His eyes dance over her full breasts involuntarily. For the first time in maybe months his cock is a hot spike in his lab overalls. Later that evening he would surprise his wife of 35 years with vigorous sex, all the while still thinking of the slinky dragoness, even as he came into her.

She is standing at the door to the pharmacy now. "I think that 2 days sounds fine." She says stiffly. Her breathing is a little heavy, and so is his. The electric tension fades a little bit. "You have my phone number?" she asks.

"Hmm?" Mutters the otter, a little off guard, wondering if she wants to meet later, maybe at a hotel room-

"My phone number. So you can call me when my prescription is in?"

"Oh! Oh yes."

"I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I said I'm sorry. For grabbing you like that. It's been a stressful morning." And with that she was gone, the bell over the door jingling as it closed.

The otter comes around the counter and looks out the front window of the pharmacy, watching as she crosses the street and disappears into the swirl of pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk. His eyes trail over her swinging hips and gently bobbing tail one last time before she's gone. He straightens his tie and lab coat, clearing his throat. Next to the counter was a phone, and he picks it up and punches in a number from memory with his webbed paw.

"Baby," he coos to his wife. "I think you're going to miss your book club tonight."

THE APARTMENT: NIGHT

She lay there in bed, a damp towel draped across her forehead. A milky glow leeches into the room from the streetlights below, casting a suffused aura across the low ceiling. Her outline in the semi-darkness: back-scales flared, nipples taught and erect, legs slightly If involuntarily spread across the tangled covers (she had tried closing her thighs together, but the simple friction of restlessly changing position had only seemed to exacerbate the burning feeling), breath shallow and quick, nostrils flaring. The anthros next door, rabbits from the sound of them, had started mating again. The sound dribbled through the wall and air vents, the sound of rhythmic squeaking a rusty saw blade on her nerves...

She had come home as late as she had dared, her first day at the office a nonsensical blur of forms to sign and HR videos to watch. She had chewed gum, aspirin, pencils, her own claws, just about anything that kept her focused, kept her mind from whirling away and being replaced with baser thoughts. Later, when she had opened the door to their apartment, her sharpened senses told her that a male dragon was here. The smell (faint as it was) made her immediately dizzy and unsure of herself. And there he was, her son, talking to her, asking her about her day while she thought about the way the otter had looked at her...and about how her own son looked to her now.

She had begged off immediately, almost retreating before him (but didn't it feel good to be submissive? some part of her mind whispered) and hurrying to her room while trailing an excuse over her shoulder about how the subway air had made her sick. She had closed the door behind her, leaning on the frame, steadying herself. She leaned her forehead against the door, one claw curled up against the chipping paint. Two days, she thought.

She had pushed some money under the crack in the door, telling him to order some pizza for them. He replied casually enough, but she could tell underneath that he was hurt and a little confused. She was his mother after all, and he was in a new, unfamiliar place. She gritted her fangs, promising herself that she would make it up to him in a couple of days.

From there she had busied herself the best she could for the next few hours, moving around her too-small room and unpacking her things out of the boxes that littered the floor. Her mind kept wandering, though, and she would be in the middle of arranging knick-knacks and pictures on the dresser to find that she had simply coasted to a gentle halt, eyes far away. Grimly she would focus he thoughts and return to the task at hand, only to find it happening again. At some point in her haze she must have taken off her clothes because she found herself standing naked in front of the mirror in her bathroom, head cocked to the side, trailing her claws down her blue-scaled sides and growling softly to herself. Her lower belly was a soft purplish color, mirroring the fire down below. Her breasts heaved with her breathing and her tail twitched constantly. She slowly cupped one of her breasts in a claw, and the ache within her intensified.

"Mom?" Her son's voice, on the other side of the door: "Pizza's here!"

She snapped her head violently back and forth. "No." She growled softly to herself, fighting back under control. She raised her voice, striving to sound normal and calm. Just leave it by the door, honey, ok? Your mom's not feeling well."

"Well...ok," he huffed, more upset than before. She stood there in front of the mirror, afraid to say anything else. After a little while she heard him pad away, and then the sound of the TV from the living room crept under the door. She exited the bathroom still nude and sat down on the bed, her scaled forehead in her hands, her mind whirling. I am not going to do this, she thought. I am not going to mate with my own son.

The alluring scent of her was slowly permeating the apartment, filling up the corners and wafting under the doorframe of her son's room. Her son was affected, although if you were to ask him he would just say he felt ...strange. Like everything was sharper and more focused. It went to work on him subconsciously while he lay in bed. He rolled over restlessly in the semi-darkness, trying to find a comfortable position. He worried that she was mad at him for something, or that maybe she had lost her job on the first day, or that maybe it was just her anger at him for the constant arguing about moving back to the city in the mountains.

He sighs and rolls over again. Why had they even come here to one of the plains cities? Didn't she understand how hard it was to make new friends? He grips his paws together, squeezing his eyes shut. Subconsciously his nostrils flare, and he takes in more of her scent. It wasn't fair. This apartment was too small. And the anthros, the anthros in the apartment next door, he grins, always having sex. Now that part wasn't too bad, actually.

He finds that his claws are tracing down his torso, gently trailing down between his scaled legs, all on their own. He snatches them away, surprised, as he unknowingly breathes more of his mother's scent. He lies on his back, looking up at the ceiling, feeling tense and not knowing why. His ears twitch a little bit, and there is a soft murr of laughter from next door. Again? He thinks, smiling to himself just a little bit. His eyes, staring at the ceiling, become soft and unfocused as he listens in the perfect silence to the occupants in the next apartment. The first gentle squeak comes now, softly from the air conditioning vent. Then another.

His cock slides unbidden from it's slit, eager and wanting. He looks down him chest, watching it emerge in the shadows. Ah, what the hell. He thinks, and wraps a claw around its base, immediately feeling the electric tingle run along the ridges of his spine. He shifts a little bit, squeezing the base, ears filling with the sounds from next door, and begins gently to masturbate.

Except this time his thoughts are a little different, he finds. Intoxicated by the smell of the other dragon instead of the thoughts of the two bunnies next door. His mother dances across his thoughts. He groans softly, unaccustomed to the vision now rising up in his mind: of his own mother, naked and offering himself to him. He knows he should feel ashamed but his claws do not slow. If anything, his pace increases as he thinks for the first time of her swaying breasts, her supple throat-scales, her wide hips and thick tail.

He pumps and pumps; the urgent sounds from next-door dovetailing into his own heated fantasy. Her mouth closing oh his own in a passionate kiss, her tongue licking across his chest, her soft claws closing around his dragon-hood as she smiles wantonly up at him...

"Oh god..." he breathes, arcing his back a little bit. A jet of pre-cum dribbles down his pumping fist. So close... SO CLOSE...

In the other room she stands, letting her hands fall to her sides. It's just too much. She fumbles with the button on her nightdress, and in a moment it slides across her body and pools at her feet. She's done fighting now. All done.

As she passes her dresser, her last clear memory is of a picture of her husband half-shadowed in the dim gloom from the streetlights. Forgive me, she thinks.

So close.... so close....

Suddenly his nostrils fill with the scent, no the musk of Female Dragon and at the same time he feels the too-small bed giving out a surprised -squoink!- and she is there with him, her claws tracing down his arms and he feels her scaled thigh rising up his leg and they are rolling, rolling, and he is on top and the whole world is the white-hot iron bar between his legs and she is pushing his claws away and guiding him oh and she is warm, so warm and slippery around him and she is breathing yes now its ok and his eyes flutter open and through a haze he sees it is his mother beneath him and her scent is everywhere and she closes around him and he arcs against her, crying out fiercely. He is burying himself deep within her and he feels himself pulse again, his gasp turning into a growl and his tail stands out straight behind him, thrashing against the sheets and she is wrapping her tail softly, lovingly around his, a growl building in her throat as well...

And the moment recedes, just a little, and he looks down at her with half-lidded eyes, tears at the corner of each, trembling with the wave of emotion that passes through him. She lies beneath him like a coiled spring, her belly against his, her scaled breasts taut and upturned and her face turned away and tilted up. He takes a ragged breath, trying to come to terms with what has just happened here. One of her claws strokes the back of his neck, and he can feel the scales rise at her touch with goose bumps. "M...mom?" he breathes, "d-did I just--"

"Shhh." she hisses, her eyes still half lidded, her countenance turned away, "I just...need you to be...a good...strong dragon for me tonight." She turns her head to face him and he can feel her heartbeat against his chest, feel it in the way she cradles his still-hard cock in her wanton nethers, she smiles, baring her fangs. Her forked tongue licks her lips. "You can do that for your mother, can't you? Can you be good to me?"

"If...if you want me to," he whispers in the darkness. She is beginning to squirm, to writhe beneath him, and she is pulling his muzzle down to first one breast, then the next. He laps at them, for a moment like the dragon-cub that he once was as he fed on her milk, and she is murring softly to him, her ankles and scaled feet hooking behind his powerful lower legs, pulling and grinding against him as he braces his fore claws on the bed on either side of her heaving torso trying to keep his balance. She is growling now, rocking against him and he can feel himself, still powerful and surging, begin friction anew inside of her. He feels rigid, turgid, like he could go on forever locked and buried deep inside of her, and she is now tilting his muzzle up to meet hers and he can see her eyes squeezed shut and she kisses, oh she kisses her son deeply in her longing passion, her own tears brimming as her tongue darts into his mouth, intertwines with his.

If there are sounds from the next apartment, they are lost in the sound the two, mother and son, are making. The bed squeaks rhythmically, occasionally scraping against the wall. Let them get a taste of their own medicine he thinks, and she breaks the kiss, panting heavily as she lays her head along side her son's, cheek to cheek. She strains against him, seeking to quench the burning fire inside of her around his maleness, and he breaths in the scent of her longing, her need, meeting it with the plunging thrust of his hips up against hers as he seeks to fulfill his own half-formed desires. No longer mother and son, they are reduced to Male and Female of the same species, rocking to the rhythm of their mutual instinct in the cold light of the streetlight from the road below.

Her breathing is sweet in his ear, mirroring his own, and she grips one of the curved horns on his head for leverage. He is losing himself in the pleasure, in her warmth, and she is beginning to growl, to whine softly against him. Suddenly she is frantic, and her claws scrape down his backside as she shivers. She is gripping him tightly, her claws almost piercing his scales. She thrashes backwards into the pillows, arcing her chest up against his rocking form as she bites her lower lip, giving a strange guttural hiss like a long F sound: fffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff. _ Her legs are fully locked around him now, ankles crossed at the base of his bobbing tail as she urges him on faster and faster. Some primitive part of his mind knows that she is coming, and he feels her vagina contract around his plunging member, and he feels all wet down there, and she is shivering and speeding up in her rocking and he is helpless but to follow suit with her. But even as she finds release, he has none. Slowly, her rocking ceases, and the pressure of her claws against his back lessens. Her feet drop away and lay spread on either side of his thighs. "That.....that was delicious..." she breaths at last, and a shiver runs through her again, and he feels her vagina twitch around his cock in an aftershock. She wipes away a tear from under her eye, and reaches up and runs her thumb across her son's cheek, wiping his away as well. "You _are a strong, strong dragon." she whispers up to him, and for a moment in the diffuse light he looks so much like her long lost husband her heart squeezes in her chest with sadness and longing. What is she doing? Trying to bring back the past? If only for one wonderful night, some part of her whispers, to feel whole and full again. He is still breathing heavily above her, and still just as hard within her. Her memories tangle with the Now, and cast back to the night she and her husband were mated. She knows now what will make her feel complete, to fill her up again, even if just for this one night.

"Sit back," she murmurs, and he looks confused. She presses gently against his shoulders, pushing him away from her. "Just for a moment." He does so reluctantly, and she feels him sliding out of her with a little - pop! - as he sits back on his haunches, penis bobbing in the night air. She slides her legs beneath her, feeling the delicious lubrication of her sex as her thighs come together. She rolls and turns, and now she is on her knees facing away from him, the same way she had done at the firm, urgent command of her husband so long ago. Instinctively she is hunching down with her knees spreading apart and back arching much like the older mating position of her species. Her front claws grip the chipped and dusty headboard of her son's bed as she presents herself to him, her tail instinctively raising and moving to one side. She looks back over her shoulder and her son's eyes are narrowing already, his confusion forgotten. Something, something ancient, is awakening in the depths of his primal instincts. His organ twitches, and a low growl rises in the back of his throat. The time for love is over, says the look in his eyes. There are no more sweet words and tender feelings now. It is time to mate. "Yesssss...." he hisses.

In an instant the other dragon is upon her. Claws grip her wide hips and she hears him hiss as he bites into her tail. The pain is exquisite and he is bearing down on her with all his weight, instinctively trying to hold her captive like prey and she wants that, she wants the feeling of being caught and taken. He thrusts as her blindly, and he is still inexperienced because she can feel him missing against her and she gives a frustrated bark/growl at this. She arcs her back a little and THERE he is in her and like a jackhammer he is forcing himself into her, ramming his cock over and over again into her wanton, needful pussy. She is giving her son everything, and he is taking it all, his right as a male. His hips are slamming against her upturned ass-cheeks and the headboard is banging against the wall and it's too late now and there's no way she could stop either of those things if she wanted to. She hisses up at him and he hisses right back down at her with his fangs still on her tail and it's so much like the time on her mating night with her husband that she can't tell the difference anymore and she is full of him, so full. He releases her tail from his vice-like grip and wraps a scaled forearm around the base of it, pressing down on the small of her back. She wraps her tail obligingly, lovingly around his torso. He is pushing himself deeper with each stroke, and each stroke heightens her pleasure anew.

"Yesss..." She closes her eyes, lost in the feeling. His breath is ragged, uneven.

"Yesssss...." her claws, strength-less, slip off of the headboard and she is cradling her head in her arms now, completely doubled over. Still he ruts against her, almost frantic now.

"Oh god...yessssssss..." he is merciless, and his pace never slows. She feels wetness on her back, drool dripping from the tip of his forked tongue.

"Oh don't hold back...do me do me oh FUCK ME NOW GIVE IT RRRrrrr-" the rest is a roar and her whole world is his thrusting cock and the burning, urgent need in her sex all tumbled together with his panting breathing above her and the shaking bed and scraping headboard and she is so close so close so close so close.

He stiffens, crying out, and comes into her. His claws tighten painfully around her wide hips as he holds her still, filling his mother up with his seed. His whole being is focused on the feel of her around him, of her hips against his thighs, her smell in his flaring nostrils. The way she writhes, she moves, she cries out with her own orgasm, even as the greedy slit between her legs tightens on him anew, milking him. Her tail wrapped around his torso, the very tip jittering and twitching against the small of his back as she moans and growls beneath him.

He jets again within her, another explosion of pleasure washing through his brain. She pushes back against him and gasps; her eyes squeezed shut, cheeks wet with tears. Good boy she breathes fill momma up. And he does, his seed dripping now from her ravaged sex down her inner thighs. Who would have thought he had so much in him? Soon the urgency ebbs and he lies across her back, growling contentedly. Occasionally he would tremble as his cock twitched within her, but the twitches were coming farther and farther apart as the fire between them both is eventually quenched. Soon he rolls off of her and lays oh his back again, looking up at the ceiling. The enormity of what just happened is catching up to him, and he looks at his lover, his mother.

She curls against him, at a loss for words, still shaking a little. He starts to speak, and she places a claw against his muzzle. "Shhh," she says. "Not a word. Can you just hold me for a while?"

And he does.

Finally, they both collapse into a warm and deep sleep, with him curled around her from behind, tails intertwined. She would wake him briefly as the sun rose, the urgency building within her again...except this time they would make sweet, unhurried love in the tiny cramped bed, he holding her and telling her of his love afterwards, she drowsing and secure in the strong arms of her beloved son, fulfilled and feeling whole of body and spirit for the first time in oh so may years.

THE END