Natural Foxes
_Toonces, the Driving Cat, the Cat Who Could Drive a Car
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I wrote this real quick, just about 90 minutes while chilling in the university library. Hope you guys like it!_
I kissed him, and I think he was surprised. It's funny, you're alone in a room with a roommate next door and your date's just waiting for you to make a move, but get miles away from civilization and suddenly he doesn't expect something intimate. It was an innocent kiss, the first time. I let him know I liked him. He let me know he liked me back. That was all.
We were both exhausted, a long hike through deep woods to get to the best spot. It's deep, and the trees are so thick they're like a wall a hundreds of feet high sheltering you from everybody else in the world. We sat there alone together on an overturned log, in a small clearing next to a small, cozy brook that bubbled like it was saying all those sweet, soft things I too often fail at. That's why I brought the fox out here with me. I figured the scene would say an awful lot more about myself than I'd ever manage. I think I was right, too. He looked around in a silent astonishment, as if he didn't believe such peacefulness existed in the world.
"How did you find this place? Some kind of fox's natural sense? Do I have it, too?"
"Maybe," I laughed coyly.
He turned his head slowly still to survey the scene. He dug his toes into the soft floor of leaves and grass beneath him, and didn't flinch when I put my paw on his. He blushed, and I followed suit. The woods were doing a lot of the talking for us.
I kissed him again, this time turning his head to catch him on the lips. We only kissed for a moment, and when we broke I meant to ask him if it was okay, but I froze. I was only breathing shallow, silent little gasping breaths, my heart fluttering and my head light, my jaw hanging open as I looked for something to say. The brook babbled, and he kissed me, pressing into my nose and pushing me backwards, messy, uncoordinated, irresistible. He was just as shy as I was, you could see it in the crimson blush that rose through his orange-red fur. I savored his taste, I pulled him closer, I listened to the sound of seclusion, which sounds a whole lot like a light breeze through thick trees, and wondered in the fact of how completely, utterly, entirely alone we were. Only two pairs of lips for miles and miles, and yet they found each other.
We were in each other's arms quickly, almost like we were keeping chasing chills in the cool shade, me running my paw through his fur like I was trying to rub warmth into him, though in reality we were both warm, almost burning, hot in the head at the very least. I inhaled his scent. He'd already taken on that piny scent of the forest, already had that heady, earthy musk to him, like wet sticks and clean water and ripe berries. It was intoxicating, and while he'd absorbed it on our walk, I could detect in it something uniquely his, his own flavorful scent that kept me breaking our kiss to pull him tight and bury my nose in the crook of his neck, until I was shuddering, actually shuddering at it.
He seemed weak or overcome at times, too, the way his bushy tail would suddenly spasm then fall limp. I took it in my grasp, grabbed my own, and put them together between us, pressing tight against the fluff until we couldn't tell whose fur was whose. He had such a wonderful little tail, so expressive, so full. I nuzzled it, buried my face right in the white tip and nibbled playfully, and it shook and twitched and played with me almost as if it was its own entity, its own lively little soul as full to the brim with passion as the two of us were. I turned him and wrapped my arms around him from behind, pecking at his cheek and running my fingers through the fur on his chest and stomach, all so I could let the tail rub against me as he moaned peacefully.
I took a deep breath and dipped my paw down, with a little yip of surprise and a heavy blush from the fox. He blushed so strongly I had to wonder if he'd ever had a paw on his sheath before, slowly stroking and rubbing him to bring him to his fuller potential. If so, he never said, he simply bit his lip and let out the occasional satisfied "Oh!" either a curt one, or a long one. Sometimes one then the other as I tickled my fingers lightly over it, from his knot to his tip. I didn't finally take a firm hold of it until he and I were both pretty firm, my own unsheathed member pressing into the base of his tail, enjoying the luxurious sensation of soft fut rubbing against it as his tail wagged peacefully back and forth. I couldn't help myself either, even though it felt a little ridiculous at the time... I humped his tail, slow and easy ones, as if I knew his tail was being humped for the first time and I wanted to make it special. It certainly got him going, he turned his head and shoved his tongue into my muzzle, and I was only too happy to return the attention as I thrust against his tail.
It certainly didn't feel like I was pushing him, but something at least pushed us, and soon I was bent over him, him on all fours in the soft leaves in front of our trunk, his tail bent over his back and myself still nuzzling it, my foxhood rubbing between his two luscious cheeks. He had such a wonderful ass, too. Two gracious curves, full and meaty, cheeks I could and did sink my paws into as we waited together for myself to make the next move. It was almost like I thought someone was going to do it for me, I was so nervous! But I savored the apprehension because it gave me all the more time to enjoy the rest of him. I took a tour of a type, burying my nose into his fur to huff in that woodsy scent again, humping his tail in an almost adorably hopeless way... for miles and miles the only sounds were trees and the two of us sharing soft, unmuted moans. In the town, we might have been quiet because we only wanted ourselves to hear. In the woods, we were quiet because we wanted to hear how alone we were.
I was slick. Very slick. Even got his tail sticky with a little of my juice. I knew I was rushing it. I knew there was an awful lot you were supposed to do first. But that was just how we ended up! It was almost like we'd fallen from the sky and landed with him on all fours and myself on his back, the tip of his tail tickling my nose. I didn't have the heart to leave the position. So I was gentle. I went slow, and even then he gasped when he felt me push against his hole to open it up tenderly. I was slow, I was methodical, I was loving. I gave him each inch like it was another course in a candlelight dinner, and he didn't bite his lip or groan, he only breathed shallowly, breathlessly, with long and lustful moans squeezed in between.
I was in up to my knot soon enough, saying "There there, there there, that's all of it, are you okay, are you alright?" and stroking his arm, which shook slightly as if under some great weight. It couldn't have been anything but his first time. You can't fake such sublime senselessness, that weakness that spreads through your body when you realize the gravity of what's happening. I held tight inside him, running my paws over his foxy body, so gracefully curved yet so slender, so full of lively energy even when still. And his scent, as always! It drove me crazy!
"This feels..." he started, his jaw hanging open for the last word, but all either of us heard was the still burbling brook, filling in for all the things neither of us had the eloquence to say. "This feels..." he started again, "... amazing." It's hard to put so much emotion into such a simple word.
I started to hump him, finally, when I knew he was good and comfortable, going slow of course, as if I wanted him to be able to feel every inch as I slid in and out of him, as if I wanted him to be able to memorize the shape of it. He moaned, and would grunt when he felt my knot press against him, imagining either positively or negatively the bulbous meat burying into him and locking us together. And I was tempted. I was most certainly tempted. Every time I humped, every time I caught his scent again, every time I thought of how distant we were from anyone who could worry us, I felt the urge to pull him onto my knot. It would only ensure we spent a little more time together in this heavenly spot. Every time I humped I'd think of the irresistible way he'd said "amazing," and I'd stop just short. I pushed a little harder and listened to the soft sounds pouring over his lips that almost mixed into the natural surroundings, and I'd stop just short. I thrust a little faster and ran my paws over his delightfully slight body, marveling at at the almost divinely perfect form of it from his flat stomach to his thin limbs, and I'd stop just short. Soon, I was humping him hard and fast, my knot batting against his hole with every increasingly lustful thrust, making him start to grunt out and moan in passion.
"I have-" I said, stopping myself, biting my tongue, humping harder now at the fact that I even had the nerve to try to say it. "I have to knot you!" I spit out finally, the word alone almost enough release for me. I held him close and kissed his cheek, waiting for him to answer.
"Oh God," he said, his breath getting deeper and his face turning hot under my lips. "Oh God."
I was aching to simply push my hips forward and pull him onto me, I was burning to bury my foxhood all the way, I was dying to feel his glorious ass resting against my lap. "I need to," I pleaded, "It'll be fine," I assured him, "Trust me it'll be fine."
He grunted. I was really giving it to him, a little lost in myself, but feeding off his reactions, only giving him as much as his wordless moans begged for. My hips were rolling back and forth, pounding incessantly into his tight warm hole, my knot still being teased at each thrust with the prospect of being buried tightly inside.
"Just say you want it, please please just say you want it and I'll knot you, it'll be okay, I swear, I swear."
The swaying of the trees, the chatter of the brook, the calls of birds and the crunching of leaves beneath us seemed to reach a crescendo.
"Yes," he said, finally, "please, please." He sounded distressed, uneasy. "I trust you, please." He still sounded nervous.
I wasted no time. I held him tight, pushed him down, and shoved my bulb against his hole, gasping as I eased it in, spreading him open to eager cries, stressful cries, but not a tone of any of them implying anything but complete trust. He broke open, I almost fell inside, and I was buried. Knot and all, my cock immediately began to spasm, the passion of it all too much to handle, and with the fox wrapped tight around me, I exploded inside him. I don't know if I came a lot. But I know my body shook, I know my vision blurred, and I know I still compulsively humped and jabbed with what little movement I had as I shot inside him. He writhed in the leaves as I finished, my chest heaving and my brow sweaty.
"Are..." I caught my breath and tried again, "are you okay?"
He nodded meekly. "I'm... wonderful." How does he make such simple words mean so much? They seemed to glow as much as he did when they left his smiling mouth.
I rocked my hips, as if I was trying to get comfortable inside him. I'd be awhile, after all. I got him back on his knees and wrapped him paw around his foxhood, squeezing his knot firm in my paw until he ohhhed. Such a wonderful thing for foxes to have, top and bottom.
He turned his head and we kissed like you can only kiss when you're making yourself uncomfortable just to do it. I was sucking on his lips, my tongue buried in his muzzle, when he started to cry out, short little cries that built in urgency slowly. "C'mon," I urged him, kissing him between his groans. "C'mon foxie," I said, stroking him quicker, squeezing the knot every few slips of the paw. I wriggled myself inside him, pressed my body against his, and urged him on still as he continued with his staccato grunts. "You're close, you're close," I told him... and then he came, his body going tense around me, his hole squeezing my sensitive knot and making me moan with him as he messed my paw with large, powerful jets that fell to the earth below him.
Both drained, we sat together, listening to the sounds of our bodies... the beats of our hearts, the air in our lungs, the click of our teeth. We blissed in each other's presence as these sounds became part of the nature around us, every part of the woods as the brook and the trees, the sounds of our passion as natural as the birdsongs.