Strays
"Just ... it's been a while." Pause. "Since I've been with a ... "
"Femme?"
"A female ... yes. Yeah." A nod. A twitch. "Yeah," he whispered.
"When?"
Field shyly blinked, sitting on the other side of the mauve-colored couch. Holding his tail in his paws. "Well ... "
"Mm?"
"I've ... well, never. There is no 'when'." A blush.
She smiled a bit. "No matter ... it's okay."
"Well, I just ... I like you. I really ... "
"I know. You told me."
He looked to the rabbit. White-furred, like snow. Stockier than the mouse, but ... with the best kind of eyes. And those ears and those paws and that ...
"Wanna tell me about it?"
The mouse blinked.
"I'm assuming ... "
" ... that I had a male mate?"
She looked to him.
He nodded. "A lion. For ... three months. I was ... I don't know."
"In love?"
"Hmm?"
"You said, 'I was' ... in love?"
"Yes."
"So, why ... "
"I like you."
"I'm not a male."
He blushed. "I, uh ... I know."
She tilted her head and looked out the window. At the evening. And back to him. "What happened? With you and ... "
"I don't know. I couldn't ... I wanted it. I wanted it so badly, but I couldn't sustain that ... life. Not with my faith, my family, my home, and ... too many sacrifices. I had to make ... a choice. What I could and could not live without." He swallowed. "I don't know," he added absently. Only saying, "It hurt." His eyes, for a moment, seemed to hollow ... before blinking, restoring the color to them.
"Sounds like you do know," was her whisper.
"I'd rather not talk about it," he said quietly. In a frail voice. "Please?"
"Alright," she whispered.
A pause.
And she scooted closer to him on the couch.
"Does that," Field asked, "bother you. My ... past?"
She bit her lip. "No," she said. "But ... maybe a little. I'm ... it's uncomfortable ... to think that someone I love," she said, looking directly to him, "was once in love with someone else. Once gave himself to someone else. Be that it's another male ... well, I can't ... I don't know. Feelings are complicated."
"They're real."
"I know," she whispered. She bit her lip. Asking the question she didn't want to ask. "Do you still ... have them?"
He didn't answer. Only said, "I like you."
She nodded quietly. "I'm not jealous. I just ... I want you all for myself. I don't know. That's selfish. Love is supposed to be non-possessive, but ... "
"It's okay. No, I ... I understand."
"I'm being hypocritical."
"You're not," he assured quietly. "You're being real."
She gave a little smile. The smile faded. "We've both had love and lost it, right?"
Another quiet nod from the mouse.
"We're both ... strays. We're both ... we're lost. We need something. Someone," she iterated.
He was breathing slowly. Breathing out and in. He nodded ... so softly that she could barely tell he was nodding.
"Let's not," she whispered, "lose this."
Field flushed. "It's ... you can never know ... "
"No, but you can hope." A leaning forward. A little kiss ... to the mouse's lips. And the rabbit pulled away a bit. An inch. Whispered, "Go on." Urging, "It's okay ... "
Field leaned, tilted his head, whiskers brushing her cheeks. And returned her kiss in the quiet of the living room. In the quiet of twilight's coming.
A breath from her ... when they had parted (Field still holding his, heart leaping in his furry chest).
And her paws fumbled at his shirt. Unbuttoned his shirt.
He let her do it.
And they went ... until, bare, they were sinking horizontally into the couch cushions. Like the sun sinking into the horizon.
And the mouse's paws were on the rabbit's hips, trying to lift her ... to draw her forward. She resisted, trying to slink down the length of his slim, mousey form.
He rubbed at her belly-fur.
She sat, straddling his waist, seeing in his eyes ... that submissiveness. What he wanted to do to her. What he wanted to be for her. How he wanted to care for her. Follow her around. Nurture her. Love her.
The mouse made an airy squeaking sound, paws on her hips ... still trying to scoot her up ...
"Take your time," she whispered. "It's ... different than you're used to."
His ears flushing red, he bit his lip.
"I know you know that," she added. "I'm just ... I'll help you to learn."
The mouse nodded again, and he ... lifted her hips ... and she wriggled, bent her knees ... and then sighed. Sat up. Brushing the hair from her eyes. Own whiskers and nose ... twitching.
"Did I," the mouse squeaked, "do something wrong?"
"No, no," she whispered. "That's just ... not a good position. Here," she said. "Here," she whispered, and she laid on her back on the cushions, taking deep, slow breaths, and she spread her legs for him. She was blushing herself now. Ears pink. "Um ... be gentle?"
"Of course," he whispered.
She closed her eyes.
The mouse, on his knees between her legs, scooted back a bit, and then bent down, wriggling ... putting his nose to her belly. As it rose and fell. And sliding it down, down, sniffing, twitching. Taking her fur. Her scent, and ... nose trailing along her furry folds.
The rabbit took a deep breath.
Field, uncertain, stuck his tongue out ... tentatively. And licked upward. And then licked again. And pausing. Sitting back up. Stuttering, "I'm ... I'm ... "
"You're doing fine," she whispered gently, eyes half-open. Meeting his. "Just ... calm down, okay?"
He swallowed and nodded.
"Okay?"
He nodded again.
The rabbit closed her eyes again.
And Field went down on her again, trying to work his tongue to the opening ... and up and down, along the pink flesh of it. The scent of her fur very evident ...
"Go ... go up," she whispered.
His muzzle slid an inch upward. Lips kissing gently. Sucking quietly. Whiskers brushing her.
"More ... up more," she said. "You know ... there's ... "
"Mm," he replied. He knew what she was coaxing him toward. And he went for it, lips ... against it. Gently. Gently blowing air ... gently kissing there. Tongue doing its work.
The rabbit's breasts heaved ... up and down. With her breathing. With her growing excitement. The anticipation.
And Field, after a few ambling minutes, stopped. And, panting, sat back up. A bit dizzy. All the blood having gone to his ears. He cleared his throat and looked to her.
She smiled weakly. "That felt nice," she said softly.
He blushed, biting his lip.
She giggled. He was ... so, so cute. The shyness only made him cuter. She looked to him, saying, "Come here."
He crawled over the top of her. Looking down, nose to her nose ... twitching. Whiskers twitching. And tilting his head ... and kissing her.
Her foot-paws rubbed against his. Toes touched his. His thin, ropy tail hung over the side of the couch to the carpet. Having gone limp.
They kissed, breathing ... more and more, needing release.
Field slid down again ... to her breasts. And mouthed at her. Breathed out. And then inhaled through the nose. Kissed. Little, mousey kisses, and little mousey nibbles. Nibbling with his lips, and then ... finding a nipple. And suckling gently ... one and then the other. A minute at a time.
The rabbit sighed.
Field kept going ... sucking, doing every oral thing he could think of. Kissing, nibbling, mouthing, sucking ... on various parts of her furry form.
Until, the rabbit, starting to pant, said, "Alright ... um ... okay, I ... you're more comfortable on bottom, right?"
The mouse, sitting again, on his knees again ... blushed and nodded shyly.
The rabbit, licking her own dry lips, nodded. Nodded again, and ... was scrabbling ... was pinning him to his back on the cushions, and was straddling him. His mouse-hood was already firm. Already stiff between his legs, and she was already positioning above it, and ...
... she was arching her back and raising her head, closing her eyes, sighing to the ceiling ...
... and Field squeaked. Squirmed a bit. Squeaked. And went still ...
... as she rose and fell. Slowly rose and fell on him. As their fur mingled. As they let down their guards, hearts unwrapped. Sensitive. Vulnerable. Intimacy ...
Field's paws went for her body. Rubbing up and down her sides as she rose and fell on him. As he was inside her. The warmth. The wetness. The feeling ...
She gave a little moan. Going faster.
The mouse's paws went to every sensitive spot he could find. That he could think of. He wasn't even thinking. He was just ... doing. Touching. Feeling. Was being swept up in this ...
... and her whimpering reached a crescendo. A panting, blushing high. And he didn't know how long this had been going on, only ... they had reached their physical peaks.
He squeaked and chittered helplessly, blissfully ... as his seed was released.
The mouse and rabbit panted. Heaving. Staying still, staying in position ... for minutes. For moments.
And then she, blushing, rose and ... he slipped out of her.
Field, sniffling, clutched at her fur, trying to pull her back down.
She giggled lightly at this. And allowed him to drag her down. Down to a lie-down. Down into a hug.
The two furs snuggling on the couch. Now in the dark. Lit only by the light from the kitchen.
After awhile, nose on her neck, nuzzled up to her, Field asked, "Are you ... okay?"
"More than," she whispered lightly.
He bit his lip. Smiled. Eyes closed, nose on her neck. And he kissed her neck in the dark. "Yeah ... I know ... I know what you mean," he whispered.
"I don't feel like a stray anymore," she confessed to him. Sighing. Bare, furry form so warm ... next to his.
The mouse so at peace. So lax ... as to not even be twitching. Not even his whiskers.
"Do you?" she wondered.
"No," he breathed. "No, I feel ... found. I feel ... "
"Safe?"
"Yes," he breathed.
"We're both okay, then?" she asked.
Field took a deep, deep breath. "I believe we are."