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ZOOM!

Zzzooooom!

It was muggy Thursday night in Miami, and open-wheeled race cars flew through the streets like fighter jets, wings glistening, the sounds of their fine-tuned, million-dollar engines echoing far and wide.

Speed to take your breath away!

Zoom-zoom-zoom!

Unfazed and undistracted, Astrid, a lop-eared bunny, calmly held a microphone in her milky-white paw, following her roving cameraman along the makeshift pit lane (this being a ‘temporary’ rather than ‘permanent’ circuit).

They dodged crewmembers and other credentialed media members as they went.

Astrid worked as a reporter/host for the Norwegian ‘Formula 1’ television feed.

It was her second year on the beat, which involved nine months of travel to twenty different countries.

This was the first of three races in the United States (the others being Austin and Las Vegas) and the championship, while already having a heavy favorite, was ‘theoretically’ still up for grabs.

After the long season, she would go home to rest and recuperate and do some media odd-jobs. Mostly championships in various winter sports (including Winter Olympics).

Astrid brushed her limp, fuzzy ears behind her shoulders (they always found their way back in front) and put on headphones, exchanging a look with her cameraman.

The big, hulking badger nodded as they stopped and set up behind her assigned ‘box.’

Once ready, the badger held up a paw.

Three fingers.

Two.

One.

The camera’s red ‘on air!’ light activated.

“Welcome to the first practice session for Round Six of the Formula One season. Session is green,” Astrid announced, speaking in Norwegian. “And cars have just taken to the circuit.

“Now, Leif, who is completing his warmup lap, has not qualified Top 10 yet this season,” she told the viewers, of their fellow countryman, a stoic, intimidating Arctic fox, “but he has been showing pace.

“Started P12 in Shanghai two weeks ago. And he looks to continue the momentum here in America. With a new wave of technical upgrades arriving soon, hopes are high for the rest of the campaign.”

Someone from the booth asked the lop a question in her headphones.

She paused for the high-pitched cacophony as a group of four or five cars zipped by.

ZOOM-zoom-ZOOM!

Zoom!

An intent nod.

“He did have mechanical issues in Australia and Bahrain. A crash in Shanghai. Yes. The team insists these were not his fault, but he is clearly the ‘Number Two’ on the team to Warwick.

“The wallaby is looking strong already, and the team thinks he can finish the season Top Five in points. He’s currently seventh. It will be an arduous task, likely requiring multiple podiums to achieve. Leif, at times, could be asked to give up positions to help the Aussie gain spots.”

Astrid quirked a brow as the booth spoke again.

“I spoke to Leif about this earlier, and he has no reservations about being a good teammate. He knows there is a pecking order in this sport, and a time and place to challenge it. The team has him under a multi-year contract, and prize money and various privileges are allotted based on combined team points, so he is aware the team comes first.”

Zzzooom!

ZOOM!

In an American series, it would be every driver for themselves. Win at all costs! No team orders. That did, undoubtedly, make for true parity and a more purely entertaining product to watch.

But the money flowing through this global series was so substantial that guardrails were self-adopted to minimize risks to teams’ investments. It had always been that way and likely would remain so.

Zip-zip!

ZIP!

More cars flashed by the start/finish line, including Warwick’s.

A few seconds later, Leif tore past, too, chassis sparking in the night like a rocket, the television feed following it through the twists and turns as the booth gave commentary.

The camera view switched to ‘cockpit mode,’ showing Leif wrestling with the steering wheel, his shining helmet buffeting about as his body endured the intense G-Forces from the fast, sudden braking, acceleration, and turns, with movements so reflexive they could only be instinct.

On-screen graphics showed real-time telemetry.

Leif’s car was ordered to ‘box’ the next time around, and his car pulled onto the pit lane, reducing speed as it approached Astrid’s position.

She (and the camera) watched as it banked into the box and came to a precision stop. The team swarmed the car, changing all four tires within two or three seconds and sending it back on its way.

“It seems they have switched Leif over to the ‘medium’ tire compound,” Astrid told the viewers. “Less grip than the ‘softs’ but higher durability. With these being rough city streets, perhaps that will produce faster lap times over the duration.”

The booth began bantering about the weather forecast for the weekend ahead. There was a threat of rain for the race on Sunday.

Astrid glanced at a timing and scoring monitor and carefully analyzed the updated lap times.

Leif was, indeed, closing the gap to Warwick. But it wasn’t ‘crunch time’ yet. And the wallaby had a way of ‘leveling up’ when the pressure increased.

That’s what separated top-tier athletes from the rest of the pack.

In a busy sports bar a mile away from the track, one such athlete, Kyler the river otter, perked as he caught a glimpse of Astrid.

The lop was on one of the countless televisions perched throughout the room.

The camera, from the US feed, was showing a car making a pit stop for tires. As it did, he could see her waiting in the background, microphone in paw.

That irregular, patchy parfait of caramel-and-cream fur? Low-hanging ears?

It was her, alright!

Cute as a button.

The otter sighed, taking a sip of his drink as the camera cut away to focus on something else.

How long had it been?

Since he and Astrid were last together?

Over a year?

I’m gonna give her an ‘American welcome’ she won’t soon forget.

They’d met at the Winter Olympics in China a few years ago, where Kyler had won an ‘upset’ gold medal in the skeleton sled event.

The victorious river otter had wooed the shy, insecure rabbit into his bed, where they’d developed an immediate connection.

They’d met up again a year later in her home country of Norway for the World Sledding Championships (where the reigning Olympic champ ended up earning ‘bronze’), rekindling their passion and leading to declarations of love.

However, with different nationalities? And successful, well-paying jobs that required constant travel? Unless one of them gave up everything to shadow the other …

Commitment was impossible.

Rather than lose each other entirely, they’d agreed to try an ‘open relationship.’

So, while they’d text, talk, and occasionally ‘perform’ for each other on camera …

In person?

They took other lovers.

Kyler wasn’t terribly picky about who he had fun with, content with ‘flings.’ Astrid was more cautious and deliberate, looking for something more regular.

She’d mentioned a few months ago that she was being pursued by someone in the F1 paddock.

One of the drivers …

“Gonna make me guess?” Kyler had asked.

“You couldn’t name two drivers on the grid, much less one.”

“True.” The otter chuckled, leaning back in his chair. He was speaking to her on his computer screen.

It was March, and she was currently thousands of miles away. In Asia. Or the Middle East? Hmm. He could see daylight through the windows in her room. For him, it was nighttime.

Kyler asked, “What’s his species?”

“Wallaby.”

“Oh?” The otter quirked a brow and grinned. “You have a thing for thick-tailed athletes, huh? I see how it is.”

The lop smiled, saying in her Nordic accent, “It is merely a coincidence.”

“Sure.”

She giggled.

They stared at each other for a moment, across oceans and time zones.

“I wanna be with you,” he murmured.

“Me, too.”

He took a deep breath before asking, “You have races in America, right?”

“Three this year, yes. Miami, Texas and, um, Vegas?” She nodded and brushed her limp ears back.

“Miami? When’s that?”

“First week of May.”

“Oh, great! I’ll be free then. We can visit the beach. When you’re not working, of course.” He waggled a brow and murmured, “You’ve never seen me swim.”

“Is that a ‘next level’ step for being with an otter? Will it make you even more virile in my eyes?”

“Of course!”

Astrid giggled again.

Back in the present, thirty minutes later, Kyler was at the track.

The otter had arrived in time to catch the last of the practice session and had been mesmerized by the sights and sounds. He hadn’t expected such a sensory explosion! An adrenaline rush! The appeal of the sport was starting to make sense.

When track action ended, he flashed his VIP credentials (hanging around his neck in a lanyard) and gained access to the paddock.

Kyler found the structure housing the team Astrid covered. Their logos and colors were all over it.

He squinted, wondering where—

It’s her!

And him?

Chatting with Astrid was, not her compatriot Leif, but his Australian teammate. Warwick. A short-ish, ‘yellow-footed rock wallaby.’

He was a handsome, striking fellow.

The wallaby’s fur was silver on his face and back, off-white on his chest. He had sandy-red limbs and muddy brown paws. White stripes stretched down his neck (and presumably his sides), and that big, balancing tail? It was long and thick, patterned in alternating dark and light rings.

He was barely taller than Astrid (maybe an inch, if that) and half-a-foot shorter than Kyler. Like a ‘mini kangaroo’ in some ways, he had the same pointy muzzle, scoop-like ears, and big, kicking foot-paws.

Astrid, catching sight of the otter, smiled and waved him over, introducing her ‘beaus’ to each other.

“Kyler, this is Wick. Wick, Kyler.”

“Heard stories, mate,” the Australian said, giving Kyler an over-obvious wink. Letting it be known that he was aware they both shared Astrid’s affections and he wasn’t threatened by it. “Seen you on TV, too.”

“The hallmark of a successful Olympian!” Kyler breezily insisted. “Parlaying one’s medals into a media career.”

In addition to doing color commentary for ‘action sports,’ Kyler made regular appearances on reality and gameshows.

“But I’m not lazing it up just yet! I plan on defending my gold in two years. Already training for it.” The otter flexed for show.

“Where’s that gonna be?” Wick asked, of the next Winter Olympics.

“Italy. Milan.”

“Ooh.”

“Yup!”

“Is that a romantic destination? It sounds like one.” Wick looked to Astrid as he said this.

The rabbit said coyly, “Any place can be made romantic if one’s heart is beating fast enough.”

Wick laughed, exchanging another wink with Kyler. “Must be a Norwegian proverb.”

The otter laughed, too. “She has a lot of those, doesn’t she? And what about you?” he asked the wallaby. “You’re pretty famous, from what I hear.” Kyler had name recognition in the States, but internationally? Wick had him beat.

“Hah, famous or infamous. Depends on whose fans you ask.” Wick chuckled. “I’m still behind you on medals! Only got one podium last season. None so far this year. And no wins. They’re coming, though. I can feel it!”

“Gotta believe, or it won’t happen!” Kyler echoed supportively.

“You know it, mate!”

“He’s improved the standing of the team,” Astrid insisted proudly, of the wallaby. “He’ll probably get hired away if he keeps this up.”

“Let’s not hop ahead of ourselves,” Wick said lightly, giving the bunny a fond glance.

Kyler, tilting his head, asked, “I have to know something … ”

Wick quirked a brow.

“How do you fit your tail in the cockpit?”

The wallaby chuckled. “Uncomfortably! And it’s gotta be lined with a fireproof sock. My teammate has it easy,” he said of Leif. The Arctic fox could be seen brooding in the distance by his car, surrounded by engineers. “His tail’s mostly fluff. Mine’s got some bulk!”

“That’s why I’m a skeleton sledder,” Kyler insisted. “When you’re on your belly, your tail isn’t in the way. In fact, it can steer for you! But if I were doing luge, having to lay on it?” Kyler shook his head, looking to Astrid and adding, a bit more huskily than intended, “I’d rather dive in head-first.”

The rabbit blushed.

Before Wick, who felt the charge of electricity between the two, could reply, someone shouted his name.

“Damn.” The wallaby’s ears swiveled. “Welp! Time for another debrief,” he said. “No stone unturned!” He saluted Kyler. “Nice meeting you, Ky.”

“Same!”

Wick then nodded to Astrid. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he told her, knowing the otter would have her tonight. That had been part of the deal (brokered by Astrid).

The series would be here for five days.

Kyler would be with the rabbit on Thursday, Saturday, and Monday.

Wick would get Friday and Sunday.

When Wick was gone, Kyler told Astrid, “He seems like fun.”

She smiled and said, “He is! I’m really happy you like him. In the back of mind, I … I’ve been worried about it?”

“Why? You can be with whoever you want. You don’t need my permission,” the otter reminded. He’d been with other females, himself, since they’d last met. All of whom Astrid knew about.

“I know, but we’re open about everything. We share everything.” She put a paw over his heart. "And I —” Astrid took a deep breath. “I spend so much time around athletes, yes? It’s my job to cover them.”

“You might need to change your defensive coverage, then, cause you’re scored on an awful lot,” he quipped.

“Ha, Kyler!” she responded with a stifled laugh. “I am trying to be serious.”

The playful otter chirped.

Astrid shook her head. After collecting herself, she said, “What I am getting at: no chest-beating? Between you and Wick. I don’t want things to become competitive.”

Kyler responded by picking up one of her lop ears, stroking it ever-so-gently. “Who would win? Mm?”

“You,” she answered, leaving no doubt about that.

Kyler exhaled, having been holding his breath. That was the response he’d longed to hear.

Flustered, she looked away and then back to him. “But I do love him, too, yes? It’s … you came first, so you are imprinted on my heart in a way he isn’t. But I don’t want—"

“Bunny,” Kyler said, continuing to pet her, running a webbed paw through her head-fur. “It’s okay. You don’t have to justify this to me. We knew what we were getting into. It was either this or give each other up forever.”

She shook her head desperately. “I can’t … I can’t do that … ”

“I know. I know, honey. Shh. Come ‘ere.”

She swallowed and closed her eyes as the otter hugged her against his chest.

Kyler nosed the top of her head.

Regaining her composure, Astrid looked up and said, “What we’re doing. It just … it’s more complicated in practice than in theory.”

He nodded. “Most things are. But you’ve been doing great. We can handle it, okay?” He released her and added, “I want you to be happy, and he makes you happy. And you make me happy. That’s all I need to know.”

The lop nodded, relieved to hear that. She stepped back and smiled.

“I didn’t come here to upset the apple cart,” Kyler promised. “I came here because I ache for you.”

Astrid brushed at her ears. “I know what you mean.” She took a breath and said, “It’s been so long since we were actually together, I fear I am forgetting details. Can I trust my memories? What was real and what wasn’t?”

His brown eyes met her blues, reaching out to cup her cheek. “I’m real, baby.”

She put a soft, lucky rabbit paw on his forearm. “Show me.”

They’d been standing so close for so long that they were starting to draw curious, brow-raising looks from passers-by.

“We, uh, better go,” Astrid said self-consciously.

Kyler took one of her paws, and they walked away from the team tent. “I said I’d take you to the beach.” He nodded ahead. “Still up for it?”

“To the beach? Or on?” she echoed lightly. “We don’t have our swimsuits.”

“Heh, don’t tempt me.”

“I would prefer not to be arrested and deported.”

“How ‘bout I walk you back to your hotel? We’ll take in the scenery, have a chat. Catch up. Then we’ll go to your room and get … ‘reacquainted’.”

The otter didn’t hold back.

It’s been fourteen months. Screw patience.

After eating her out (making good on his ‘head-first’ mantra), he rutted the rabbit.

Strong, firm thrusts, hot and heavy humps. The kind you could probably hear from the hallway.

Smack, smack, slap!

Kyler’s whiskered face twisted into shifting expressions of primal, animal bliss as his bare, throbbing cock slid in and out of Astrid’s hot, wet pussy.

She felt just as good as he remembered.

Like a velvet glove, a piece of heaven.

Divine!

The bed bounced.

His rudder-tail slapped at the sheets.

Astrid moaned and gasped beneath him, whimpering with increasing desperation, locking his brown-furred body into a multi-tiered hug. Arms, legs, sex.

He kept going.

Her cries suddenly peaked!

She was there.

Was this her second or third?

Kyler grunted, her pleasure fueling his. He bared his fangs and growled like an animal as he felt a tingling in his core.

Rapidly, the feeling spread.

He flushed and smashed his trim, athletic hips to her loins, burying balls deep into Astrid’s sweet, smooth passage.

The otter barked as he gave himself to her, filled her with his seed. How many spurts? Six, seven. Eight? Each one a firework in his brain.

The doe’s paws were all over his back, feeling him tense and flex, and ultimately slump motionless atop her.

They huffed hotly, exchanging wet, sloppy kisses.

She ran a paw along his rudder-tail. “I … ah. Ah! Kyler,” she panted.

“Astrid,” he breathed back, webbed paws all over her body. She was so warm, so soft. So wonderful. He gripped her bobtailed ass. “Fuck. I missed you so much.”

Another kiss, this one deep and twisting. Whiskers brushing, tangling. Saliva briefly strung between them when their muzzles parted.

“I love you,” she breathed, voice wavering with emotion.

“Love you, too,” Kyler replied, hugging her possessively. Oh, God. He didn’t want to ever let go.

She burrowed into his arms.

He churred.

They clung to each other as they recovered from their mutual high.

Finally, he pulled out of her, his erection shrinking, leaving a gooey, white stream to leak out of her and to the sheets.

“You have to be up early, don’t you?” Kyler guessed, nuzzling up beside her.

“Yes.” She turned to face him, nose to nose. “But please don’t go … stay the night?”

When Kyler woke the next morning (Friday), Astrid was gone.

The otter yawned and stretched, rubbing his eyes and staring at the ceiling for a minute before rolling to his belly and burying his nose in her pillow, breathing in deeply of her scent.

“Mmm.”

Pushing himself up before he fell back asleep, Kyler groggily swung his legs out of bed.

He reached for his phone, checking his messages.

Afterward, he took a long, rejuvenating shower before enjoying a hearty breakfast down in the lobby.

Venturing outside (he could already tell it was going to be a hot day), he walked the few blocks to the racing paddock, his credentials getting him into the garage where Wick’s team was.

Astrid, no doubt, was doing her roundtable show in Leif’s garage next door.

Kyler looked for the friendly wallaby, and soon found him.

Wick was getting into his driving suit. In a t-shirt and form-fitting boxer-briefs, he was slipping his big, slender foot-paws into the leg openings. He shimmied and hopped in place and as he pulled the suit up.

This made the bulge between his legs jiggle about.

Kyler’s eyes widened.

For the wallaby’s stature, it seemed … sizable! He was straight, but how could the otter not notice?

Ears arching, Wick turned his head. “Oh! Hey, mate!”

“Hey!” Kyler played it cool, jabbing his thumb toward the door. “Sorry to bother you. I can leave?”

“No worries.”

Kyler nodded.

Zipping up his uniform, Wick brought his tail around and began to put a fireproof tail-sock over it. “You have fun last night?”

“Heh … yeah.” The otter grinned, shrugging helplessly. “You could say that.”

“Ace!” Tail-sock on, Wick grabbed his gloves.

“You qualifying today?”

“Just practice. Two sessions. Quals tomorrow! Race on Sunday.”

“I’m a newbie to all this, I admit.”

“S’okay, mate. New fans are always welcome!” He got his gloves on and put a baclava on his head. Fireproof like the rest of his attire. “Team’s expecting rain for the main event, so it’ll be important to start up front. Ever drive three hundred kph in a downpour? Bit dangerous!”

“Well, I’ll be cheering you on! Don’t care if it rains, cause my pelt is waterproof. It’ll all slide off.”

“Wish I was like that! I’ll be soaked through.” Someone from the team called for the wallaby. He picked up his helmet and put it on, the visor flipped up. “There’s my alarm. See ya later!” Wick said, hopping out of the room and into the open garage, toward his car.

Kyler watched him go.

He could see why Astrid liked him.

After a day of practice (he’d topped out at P5), Wick humped Astrid in the same room, on the same bed she and Kyler had made love on last night.

Housekeeping had changed the sheets, of course, but just thinking about it supercharged the wallaby’s already-healthy libido.

A damn shame the otter was straight!

Mm.

How straight, though?

Would he be okay with a threesome? It wasn’t gay in a three-way!

Before he got carried away fantasizing about Kyler, Wick reigned himself in, giving full attention to Astrid.

Kyler had gone ‘missionary’ on Astrid the night before, but Wick opted for ‘doggystyle,’ mounting her from behind. He gripped her plush, curvy hips and slammed into her with pole-winning speed.

The bunny, head on a pillow and rump in the air, flicked her bobtail and curled her fingers, bunching up the sheets. Her breasts wobbled every which way.

She moaned.

The wallaby bellowed.

After they’d taken the ‘checkered flag,’ the racer hung his head and rubbed the reporter’s back. “That was sweet as.”

“Mmhmm,” was Astrid’s approving response. She’d been around him long enough to know that must’ve been Aussie slang for ‘really good.’

Astrid closed her eyes, overcome by an afterglow-laden high.

“So.” Wick leaned forward to kiss and nip at the lop’s nape, casually murmuring, “Was I better than Ky?”

“Wick!” Her blue eyes opened.

“Whaaaat?” he went, lifting back up and groping her rump. “We all know we’re rooting each other.”

“That’s different than having specific details.”

“Is it?” the wallaby asked. “Don’t you think knowing what my competition is doing would help me please you better?”

“We’re all on the same team.”

“Then we should share the playbook! Like … how many times did he make you cum yesterday? And how do we ‘size up’?”

“I’m definitely not telling you that. That seems like something guys would be sensitive about?”

“I’m not.”

“Then you’re an exception.”

A grin. “Exception or exceptional?”

“Not everyone can get an erection while driving a race car at three hundred kilometers an hour.”

“Three hundred twenty-eight,” he corrected. “And it was one time.”

She gave him an over-the-shoulder look.

“Okay, two!” Wick gave a mischievous laugh.

“You were lucky you didn’t pass out.” At such speeds, a driver’s heart was already racing, blood pressure at sustained, elevated levels. It required a great degree of fitness to endure.

“Couldn’t help it. You burst into my thoughts! You’re dynamite.”

She blushed.

Of him and Kyler, Wick continued, “Athletes can be competitive on track and friendly off it, y’know. You needn’t worry. You’ve seen us getting’ along, yeah?”

“Things are different in bed. And we are talking about the bedroom, yes?”

“You’re just as much an animal as we are,” Wick reminded with a private murr, fingers combing through her pelt. He kissed her shoulder. “Maybe more.”

She blushed and arched her body, not strong enough to get free until he withdrew. “How about you get off me and we’ll go out to eat? Before every place is booked.”

“If we can’t find somewhere, we’ll just eat at the team chalet? It’s catered,” he said as he pulled out of her.

Astrid rolled onto her back, stretching her legs. “I’d rather a proper restaurant.” Team catering was good, but it wasn’t the same experience as getting something fresh and local. Besides, “I don’t want to run into Leif without my new cameraman around.”

“That badger? Scary dude! He doubling as your personal bodyguard now?”

“He’s very protective,” was all Astrid said, brushing her ears away from her face.

A wink. “Maybe he wants what me and Ky are getting?”

“You don’t have to worry about that. He’s a sweetheart.”

“Heh, you mean he’s gay?”

Astrid nodded.

Wick got out of bed and crossed his arms. “He’s so … burly. Mm.” A pause. “He’s a top’s top, isn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“Damn.” The wallaby huffed. Could he imagine himself with badger dick in his maw?

Yes.

Yes, he could.

The thought was interrupted by another. He tilted his head, giving a sudden frown. “Hold up! Leif’s not harassing you, is he? I swear to—”

“No! Nothing like that. Nothing to report. It’s just that foxes and rabbits have a long … history,” she said diplomatically. “I feel the tension, yeah? I do not think he approves of my relationship with you.”

“He’s jealous you’re rooting me instead of him?” Wick translated as he hopped to the bathroom, turning on the shower.

“I think so, to be honest,” the rabbit replied, remaining in bed, raising her voice so Wick could still hear her. She sat up, leaning her back against the headboard.

Astrid was sweet but not naïve.

She rubbed her face and sighed.

Being a cute, pretty doe far from home in a testosterone-filled environment? Didn’t come without problems and pressures. Surrounding herself with males she could trust (like Wick and the badger) was necessary for her own safety.

“I’m a fellow Norwegian. I’m around him a lot, covering him for the audience back home. He probably thinks I ‘owe’ my job to him or something … ”

“Leif is a sore loser,” Wick replied, head poking out from the bathroom door. “He’s the same way in team meetings after races. When I finish ahead o’ him, which is most weeks … he pouts. Won’t look me in the eye until we’re in the next city, where he’s suddenly all ‘I’m gonna kick your tail’.” He snorted. “Bring it on, mate!”

Astrid giggled, finally getting out of bed and wandering into the bathroom, the shower warm enough to produce steam.

The bunny told her beau, “It’s normally not this tense between me and Leif, but he’s seen Kyler lurking around. He’s realized I’m entertaining more than one gentleman friend. And this makes him feel even more slighted. I’m with multiple, including his teammate, and still not him? When I interviewed him today, he seemed standoffish.”

“Hah. How can you tell?”

Astrid’s nose twitched. “I just can.”

“Well, it’s the difference between healthy and unhealthy ego. Ky and me, we got egos. But we’re in touch with ‘em, right? We can handle being checked. Leif can’t, cause he’s lost control of his.”

Wick got into the shower and extended a paw.

Astrid took it, following the wallaby.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t spill this on you,” she said softly, as the water soaked into her pelt. “Not during a race weekend.” Racing wasn’t Wick’s hobby. It was his job. He didn’t need to be saddled with her problems.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, girly. You’re never a burden to me.” He swore, seriously, “I’ll protect you.”

They rotated positions, the wallaby standing in the shower stream now.

She leaned her head on his shoulder.

His jovial nature returning, he said, “We should set Leif up, y’know? Get him laid by someone else. Preferably a predator who can keep him in check. I’m thinking jaguar. They’re tough as nails.”

“That sounds like the plot to a romantic comedy.”

“Heh! It’ll be a box office smash.”

They soaped each other up and washed off, and she leaned against his wet, steamy body even after Wick had turned the shower off.

The wallaby closed his eyes and hugged her, kissed her forehead. “I’ll behave with Ky. I promise. I know he means a lot to you. I like him, too. He’s a good ott.”

She looked up at him with gentle affection. “Thanks.”

They kissed again, this time on the lips.

Wick helped her out of the shower. They toweled dry, got dressed, and went out to eat.

It was Saturday.

Pole Day.

Kyler watched the qualifying session from the team chalet while eating a better-than-average fried fish sandwich (he was ninety percent sure it was tilapia).

There were closed-circuit televisions spaced about. One of them was tuned to Astrid’s broadcast, but the otter couldn’t understand a word she was saying (though she looked hot saying it!).

So, he took his food and wandered toward a TV showing an English-language feed.

(He made a mental note to start learning Norwegian and surprise the bunny for Christmas.)

Leif and Wick both made the cut from Q1 (the first session) to Q2. Which meant they wouldn’t start in the very back. Mid-pack at worst. This second session would determine who would have a chance at the Top 10 starting spots.

As Q2 drew to a close, Wick was up in P7, a safe advancing spot, but Leif was stuck in P11. His current lap was tracking to advance when he slid wide on a tight corner, barely missing the apex, losing fractions of a second.

In a precision sport, that’s all it took.

By the time the checkered had flown on the session, Wick held to P7 and Leif had actually fallen to P12, meaning the wallaby would fight for pole position and Leif’s starting spot was set in stone.

Once boxed, the Arctic fox got out of his car, clearly upset, yanking the fire-sock off his fluffy, white tail, balling it up, and heaving it. A crewman, a rat, scampered to retrieve it.

Leif then removed his helmet and was prepared to toss it, too, when the pit crew finally stopped him, mobbing him and taking the helmet away.

The broadcasters played snippets from Leif’s in-car radio, in which he blamed a slower car for weaving in the racing lane ahead of him, creating a wake of ‘dirty air’ that destabilized his front wings and forced him wide (and subsequently out of the transfer positions).

Video evidence backed this up.

Regardless, this matched the fox’s best starting spot this season, and he could very well score points tomorrow.

A few minutes later, Wick was back on track, posting blistering times.

Even though he was watching this on the TV in the garages, Kyler could see the pit lane and front stretch out the chalet windows. He could hear the speed, feel the air stir as the cars went by.

The wallaby improved his provisional spot by one, earning P6 on the grid. High enough to be in reach of the podium if the team played their cards right.

The difference in demeanor between Wick and Leif was night and day.

When the wallaby arrived in his box, he took off his helmet and grinned, undoing his belts and hopping out, giving each crewmember a high five and a hug.

While Astrid interviewed a monotone Leif and prepared for a post-qual roundtable, Kyler ventured to the team tent. Wick had interviews of his own, as well as some sponsor photos to take. He’d probably be a while.

Kyler fiddled with his phone while he waited.

The wallaby finally emerged, out of his suit and wearing a sponsor-branded shirt and slacks. “Hey, hey!”

The otter got up and gave the wallaby a high-five.

They clasped paws.

“Good job out there,” Kyler said with a smile.

“Thanks, mate! More on the team than me.”

“You’re being modest.”

“Trying. Is it working?” Wick asked.

Kyler laughed.

“You waiting for the missus?”

“Yeah, she’s doing her thing,” Kyler confirmed.

“She’s a special bunny.”

“Definitely,” the otter agreed with a sigh.

Wick crossed his arms and tilted his head. “I’ve been thinking … been meaning to run it past you.”

“What?”

“She’s got it bad for you, ott. Real bad.”

“Feeling’s mutual,” Kyler replied. A pause, admitting, “But she told me she loved you, too.”

“She did?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I have that effect on women. And men,” Wick added with a sly, spreading smile.

“You bi?”

“Something like that. Rumor has it you aren’t?”

“Guys have tried to turn me, but it hasn’t worked yet.”

“Maybe they haven’t tried hard enough,” the wallaby insisted.

The otter blinked.

Wick, eyes sparking, continued, “Really, though. Aren’t straight folks a myth?”

“Heh. Guess I’m a unicorn.”

“Well! Unicorns have horns, which means they’re horny, which means you’ll like what I’m gonna suggest.”

Kyler knew where this was going.

The wallaby’s huge paw-feet slapped on the floor as he hopped closer, keeping his voice private. “I wanna give Astrid something special. Something from the both of us.” He paused and smiled. “Catch my drift?”

“A threesome.”

“Yup. You for it?”

“Oh, I’m up for it,” Kyler insisted with a nod, feeling a sudden, intense surge of arousal. It’d been a long time since he’d done anything like that. “Will she be?”

“She wants us to get along, and what better way to show it? I’m more worried about you. Don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

“If you’re going too far with me, I’ll let you know.”

“Right-o! Deal.” Wick smiled, hopping in place with anticipation. “Should we give her some kind of warning? Or make it a complete surprise?”

“Surprise,” Kyler said. “She can’t multi-task while horny like we can.”

“Heh, true enough. It’s a skill!” Wick clasped the otter’s webbed paw again. “So, I gotta attend more sponsor meetups. Then a dinner with the team! We’ll catch up tomorrow after the race.”

“Bring your trophy with you,” Kyler said.

The wallaby, on his way out, pointed at the otter and winked. “Will do.”

Sunday.

Race day.

The meteorologists had been right.

Rain!

The radar showed it stretching off to the west, slowly moving east. There wasn’t any possibility of it clearing by the end of the event. It was going to be a slick, soggy affair.

The crowd showed up, however, donning ponchos, raincoats, and colored umbrellas.

The starting grid was on their warm-up lap, weaving, bobbing, getting their tires (the treaded ‘wet’ compound) up to temperature. They needed to be hot enough to activate the rubber to maximize grip.

Even at slow speeds, spray flew from the back of each machine, creating visibility problems for those in the back. Red ‘warning’ lights on the tail-wings of the cars were strobing to help with this.

As the warm-up lap finished, the cars slotted, one by one, into their starting spots.

The clock ticked down.

Watching from the chalet rather than the open-aired stands, a dry Kyler stood up and leaned forward in anticipation. There was a buzz in the air.

He knew it well as a competitor.

The countless times he was atop the sledding hill, waiting for that buzzer to sound, ready to launch. Your mind, in that moment, turned off. You could hear your own breath. Your heartbeat.

Fight or flight.

Do or die.

Win or lose.

There was nothing else.

The starting lights, hanging above start/finish, went red, red, red …

GREEN!

The cars fish-tailed and shot forward, as if out of powerful canons, mist and spray filling the roaring, rain-streaked air.

As they field careened toward the first turn (a right-hander), a bottleneck quickly developed, and one car slid into another. Wobbles, locked wheels, and spins!

The crowd gasped.

The announcers became animated.

Most of the field made it safely through, but two cars were stalled. One spun its tires and got itself righted. It was back on its way. The second car had wing damage.

A ‘safety car’ was deployed’ while the beached vehicle was removed from the racing surface, its day already done.

Kyler squinted at the TV screen to check the running order. Wick had moved up a spot to P5. Leif had fallen back two positions to P14 but had avoided being involved in that first lap melee.

The safety car left the course and the race resumed.

Plumes of water soared high into the air each time the leader came past. Soon, he had separated himself from the pack, his teammate holding P2.

Wick moved up to P4 after the first pit cycle.

Leif had clawed his way back to P11, one spot better than where he started (and one position out of the points).

There was another accident mid-race, a car sliding off track and careening into a safety barrier. Carbon fiber separated from the car in a dramatic fashion, absorbing the impact away from the driver.

Wick used the caution to pit for the final time. The drivers ahead of him stayed out. But the wallaby’s strategy proved to be better. In the rain, they couldn’t go fast enough to create the gap they needed, and he gained more spots.

Up to P2!

The crowd roared when the wallaby drove past, knowing he had never finished this high.

Leif trailed far behind but had made it to P10.

The laps waned.

Five to go.

Four, three, two.

Wick wasn’t going to catch the leader, who had a massive advantage, but his runner-up performance felt like a win. He weaved back and forth and extended a fist from the cockpit as he crossed the finish line, flags waving in the rain from fans in attendance.

The cars left the racing surface and filed into pit lane, the top three driving to victory lane for their photo ops and podium trophy presentations.

Wick had a wild-eyed grin on his face as he removed his helmet and baclava, his crew taking off his tail-sock for him as he hopped into their waiting arms. A rain-splashed group hug ensued.

Even Leif came and sought out Wick, and the Arctic fox and wallaby exchanged a fist bump. It was, after all, a great result for the mid-tier team. Both cars in the points, one on the podium?

Kyler clapped for his new friend as the wallaby climbed to the podium to accept his trophy.

The celebration continued well into evening.

In Astrid’s hotel room, seven stories in the air, Kyler grunted, sitting up in her bed, brown legs spread. His rudder tail jutted off to the side.

Wick’s second place trophy was on the bedside stand, lit up by lamplight.

“Just close your eyes,” Astrid whispered tenderly, hugging Kyler from behind. On her knees. Her arms around his neck, lips on his whiskery cheek. “Imagine it’s me … ”

Kyler did so.

It made it easier for the straight otter to accept that a male muzzle was between his legs.

And that it felt … good?

Really good.

Wick had clearly done this before.

The wallaby expertly sucked on Kyler’s thick, pink cock, twisting about and pulling off to lick, lap, and kiss the dribbling tip, pausing now and then to grip and squeeze the base of the shaft, to fondle and roll his tightening, furry balls.

“Uhh!” Kyler groaned, body arching.

“Wick, you need to let up,” Astrid warned. “He’s getting close.”

The wallaby’s head continued to bob.

“Wick … ”

The wallaby heeded the rabbit and pulled off, panting with lust. Looking up at Kyler’s fit, sleek body, at that slack-jawed face, it took every ounce of self-control for Wick not to crawl up there and kiss him.

Knowing that would be too much for Kyler, Wick sat back on his heels and reeled in his rudder-tail instead, petting and stroking it base to tip.

“You can open your eyes, now,” Astrid whispered to the otter, her voice a bit husky. She’d been rubbing her clit while Wick went down on Kyler. She was wet with desire. And it tantalized the males’ noses.

Kyler, aware of Astrid’s desire, opened his brown eyes, looking down at his wet, throbbing cock. Exchanging a dazed look with Wick.

The wallaby gave one of his winks.

Astrid reached around and gripped Kyler’s cock.

Kyler moaned.

“Shall we put this to further use?” she asked.

A minute later, the bunny was being spit-roasted by her boys.

Kyler eagerly, steadily humped her from behind while Wick slid his slightly bigger dick in and out of her muzzle, which she had wide open and tilted to the side to keep her buckteeth from nicking him.

“Oh … oh!” Kyler cried.

“Mmmf!” went the bunny, her bobtail flagging. Body rocked, her ears swung back and forth.

Wick, admiring the view, mumbled, “Yeah, oh, yeah, yeahhhh … ”

They climaxed in a chain reaction.

Kyler first, gasping, chirping, and slamming into Astrid’s sex.

She cried out, nose flaring, twitching deliriously as her walls massaged and milked Kyler.

Wick, knowing he was next, pulled his throbbing dick out of the bunny’s maw and stroked it furiously, face scrunching as he shot his seed in big, wide arcs, marking and scenting his partners.

Splat!

Across Astrid’s cheek and neck.

Splat!

Along Astrid’s back.

Splat!

Against Kyler’s belly and chest.

His ejaculations peaked and began to drastically shorten.

Astrid, lids shut to avoid getting her eyes stung, lifted a paw and fumbled for Wick’s pulsing cock. She quickly brought it to her lips, letting the rest of his release spill onto her tongue. She swallowed all of it.

“Ahhh, girly,” the wallaby muttered, shivering with delight. He rubbed her shoulders, tail thumping against the pillows.

Astrid, breasts heaving, a glob of his seed stuck to her left-side whiskers, released the wallaby and lowered her paw to the bed. She hung her head, still tasting him. And still feeling Kyler behind her. The otter hadn’t pulled out yet.

“Fuck,” was all Kyler could think of to say.

“Heh.” Wick laughed. “Hell, yeah.”

“Guys,” Astrid breathed, emotion in her voice. “Will you cuddle me?”

Kyler pulled out of her, leaving a mess in his wake. He flopped onto one side of the bed.

Wick laid himself out on the other.

Astrid then dropped to her belly and shimmied around onto her back in the middle, between them.

Their paws ended up on the rabbit’s soft, warm belly, inches from each other, their noses nuzzling her shoulders, her neck. Her cheeks.

Astrid tilted her head one way to kiss Kyler on the lips. Then tilted the other to lock muzzles with Wick.

No words were uttered for a while.

None were needed.

At one point, Wick’s clawed, furred fingers, still on the bunny’s belly, made purposeful contact with he webs of Kyler’s paw.

After a hesitation, Kyler returned the touch.

Wick finally broke the silence, proclaiming, “I’m famished! Let’s go out.”

“We’d have to clean ourselves up,” Kyler said, lazily fondling one of Astrid’s breasts. “We could always have room service?”

“Thought we just did,” Wick said with a roguish grin.

“Ha, Wick!” Astrid giggled.

“Heh.”

“Kyler?”

“Mm?”

“You shower first. Me and Wick will go in when you’re done. We’ll leave in twenty?”

“I can bring my trophy!” Wick suggested. “We’ll probably get in for free.”

“Or it could get stolen,” Astrid warned.

“Nah, no one will mess with me. You seen my feet? I have a black belt in kick boxing.”

“I suppose that’s what passes for fun in the Outback?”

“I’m from Toowoomba.”

“That sounds very Outback-ish.”

“Mm. M’kay, you two,” the otter said with a smile, breaking up their banter and breathing, “Will you come to the beach with me in the morning, bunny? I want to swim together. Even if it’s just a few minutes.” Her plane left for Europe in the late afternoon. “I’ll find a sand dollar for you.”

“Of course,” she whispered, placing a paw on the otter’s heart.

They shared another passionate kiss (the otter getting a residual taste of wallaby) before he rolled out of bed.

He could hear Astrid and Wick murmuring as he went to the bathroom, turned on the water, and got in the shower.

As the hot water shrouded him in steam and washed him clean, Kyler thought about how long it would be before he was with Astrid again.

Another year?

More?

Hopefully less.

He smiled.

However long, he knew it would be worth the wait.