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This story contains M/F sex between consenting adults. :3

[center][b][u]The End of Hoodie Season[/u][/b][/center]

When Charlie slipped in through the front door after work, he could hear the hum of the fan in the downstairs bathroom. Not wanting to disturb his wife, he refrained from calling out that he was home and instead simply removed his jacket, hung it up, and padded through to the kitchen with backpack in hand to unpack and wash out his water bottle. Less than a minute later he heard the toilet flush, the sound of water running in the sink, and then another short while later, the sound of the love of his life walking out of the bathroom, along the hall and into the kitchen behind him.

"Hey squeaks."

Ariel murmured as she wrapped her arms around the mouse from behind, nuzzling at the back of one of his pink ears while the fingers of her right hand slipped between two buttons of his shirt to caress his soft, caramel hued fur. Charlie smiled, but even as his wife cuddled him, he couldn't help but think that her voice sounded just the tiniest bit less enthusiastic than normal. His head tilted, and though he continued to wash out the interior of his bottle in the soapy water before him, he murmured curiously back to the vixen of his dreams.

"Hey you. Everything okay?"

The fox chuckled and nipped at the very edge of Charlie's ear, making him squeak and giggle, and prompting him to raise a hand out of the water and flick it back over his shoulder, sprinkling his wife's face with glistening suds. She yipped with surprise and playfully aghast outrage, but after a few moments of the two of them laughing as Charlie rinsed off the water bottle, set it on the drying rack and finally turned to face his wife, she shrugged without trying to conceal the slight frustration on her face.

"It's silly. It's nothing super important, I promise. But... I realised today, while I was working... or, okay, if I'm being honest while I was masturbating during work..."

Charlie snorted with laughter, not surprised in the slightest.

"I swear to god, goober. You're gonna make me say something dumb as hell like '[i]I miss the pandemic[/i]' if you keep bringing up the things I miss out on by not working from home any more."

Ariel giggled, but her tail was swaying happily behind her as she shrugged shamelessly, the large, well worn black hoodie she was wearing rising up slightly on her shoulders and revealing more and more bare, fluffy thigh in the process. Her smile faded a little once again though when she resumed her recounting of the day.

"...but, yeah, while I was doing that I realised it was getting kinda hot. I could have turned the air con on, I know, but to start using it this early in the year feels dumb, so..."

Her voice trailed off again, and she pouted as she pulled up the hoodie's hood to cover her head, then slipped her hands into the two sided front pocket over the garment's belly. Charlie's eyes widened, and he murmured in sudden understanding.

"Ohh, hun. Not ready for hoodie season to be over?"

Ariel shook her head.

"It's dumb, I know."

Charlie frowned, but before he could say anything his wife removed one hand from the hoodie's pocket and raised it to cut him off.

"Okay. Okay, I know, I shouldn't dismiss my own feelings. Bad choice of words. It's not the biggest problem in the world, I mean, relatively speaking. I just..."

The mouse nodded in understanding.

"You love wearing it. You love how you feel wearing it. How you look."

His wife nodded back.

"And I know you love me no matter what I'm wearing. I know I'm beautiful to you no matter what, and it's not like I hate how I look when I'm wearing other stuff. It's just... this hoodie. You know what it does to me."

Charlie grinned, taking a step forward towards the woman he loved.

"It makes you so horny you can't make it to your lunch break without masturbating at your desk."

The vixen's cheeks flushed visibly even with her face being cast slightly in shadow by the hoodie's hood. Charlie snorted with laughter.

"Twice?"

She giggled and squirmed on the spot. Charlie shook his head in wonderment as he wrapped his arms around the slightly taller woman, and began to run his furless hands down her back until he reached where the back of the hoodie was covering the base of Ariel's wagging tail and the soft, fluffy buttocks flanking either side of that gorgeous, expressive tail.

"Jeez, goober. Three times today?"

He craned his head up. Ariel looked down at him, and as their noses bumped fondly together, she flicked her tongue out to lick his lips before whispering devilishly.

"Three before lunch. Twice more after. Tell me how naughty I am, squeaks."

Charlie's ears glowed hotter as he slid his hands down until they reached the lower hem of the hoodie, then met with the furred flesh of his wife's thighs, and began to rise back up again, slipping under the hoodie until sure enough they met with the bare, even fluffier, even more soft and pillowy cheeks of Ariel's bare backside.

"You're not just naughty, Ariel. You're filthy. Shameless. A lewd, sexy goober who can't control herself when she knows that she's all naked underneath that big, soft, cosy hoodie of hers. Tits out. Pussy out. All barely hidden away under that one piece of clothing. The one you answer the door in to pick up our package deliveries. The one you wear to your virtual team meetings. Never wearing a single stitch more, because you [i]know[/i] how hot it is, you know how hot [b]you[/b] are when you look that way. Braless. Bottomless. Ready to reach down and grope yourself, rub your clit, or stuff a whole toy inside your pussy at any second."

As Charlie spoke, he could hear his own voice growing thicker and heavier with desire. He could feel his cock swelling within his work pants, and, most importantly, he could feel his wife trembling with excitement. He could feel her buttocks quivering and clenching with each new aspect of his description of her, each teasing, chiding truth, and he could see the desire, the hunger, the shameless pride upon her face. The mouse fell quite for just a moment or two, and his whiskers twitched in giddy anticipation as his wife's mouth opened, and she moaned to him pleadingly.

"I know it's gonna be too hot to wear regularly soon. But... please. Charlie. Before then... while the evenings are still cool enough..."

Her voice cracked, not so much with emotion as with raw, unhinged desire. Her husband swallowed thickly, squeaked softly, and nodded as he rose up ever so slightly on his tiptoes to peck his wife on the lips.

"Hoodie night?"

She bit her bottom lip and whined in giddy elation, before taking a step back, out of her husband's embrace, and lifting the front of her hoodie enough to expose not just her thighs, the inner fur matted and tangled, yet still glistening with more fresh moisture, not just her crotch itself, but lifting the hoodie far enough up to flash her soft, slightly plump belly to her husband too. She nodded, bit her lip again as she glanced down and saw the already visible bulge in Charlie's pants twitch, then giggled as she dropped the front of her hoodie once more in order to reach out with both hands and start dragging the mouse into the living room with her.

"Hoodie night."

She affirmed with a longing moan as they left the kitchen, and their night together began without any further delay.

[center]*******[/center]

"Hubert, Dewford and Llewellyn, right, goober?"

Charlie murmured as he glanced from the quiz show on the TV in front of them to his wife, while his right hand was resting hidden from view under the front of her hoodie. She trembled, opened her mouth to say something, but just grunted, shivered, and whimpered under her breath.

"Close. Hhhh... harder."

Her toes curled where her legs were outstretched, propped up on the coffee table. She raised her rump off the couch for a moment, almost humping at the smooth pink paw which had two fingers curled gently inside her pussy, fondling her g-spot while Charlie's thumb circled her clit. The mouse grinned, nodded, and though he really had been enjoying that round of the quiz on cartoons, he turned his attention as completely away from the TV as his wife's had clearly already drifted. Honestly he was surprised that she had lasted this long before completely checking out under the thrall of his casual fondling, though perhaps that was just because she'd already cum at least half a dozen times that day. As the delicate tapping of his fingertips at her g-spot became a delicate but consistent rubbing though, and the already gentle massaging of her clit became a more firm and constant pressure against the tiny but oh so tender bud, Charlie knew that however long his wife had lasted, she wasn't going to for much longer.

His cock strained within his pants as Ariel lifted her hands to her darkly hooded face, and moaned indulgently into the fabric covering her hands, the hoodie's arms too long for her when not bunched up. The fabric at the ends of the arms was even more worn and slightly lighter than the rest of the already faded, old, over-washed black material, and as Charlie watched his wife lightly nibbling at the fabric between gasps and moans of building pleasure, it was no surprise why. He rubbed harder, and watched with delight as Ariel's eyes bulged and she covered her muzzle to muffle a shriek. Her tail thumped at the edge of the couch. Her toes splayed out as her legs straightened, pushing the coffee table away and slightly askew, thankfully with nothing spillable or breakable on its wooden surface. The change in the stance of her legs meant that Charlie had to alter the angle of his wrist slightly, but his fingers were already exactly where they needed to be.

"Feeling cosy, goober?"

He whispered to his wife, who shuddered and nodded feverishly with a strained cry.

"Feeling sexy?"

He squeaked in lust as his cock throbbed and oozed pre-cum through his boxer-briefs, forming a glistening dark spot on the tent of his pants. Ariel grunted an affirmation into her bunched up, fabric wrapped fists, panting, whining, hips twitching and bucking as Charlie felt his wife's pussy start to clench and quiver, and get so, so much wetter around his still firmly rubbing fingers. He felt the soft, spongy patch of flesh beneath his fingertips seem to swell and engorge ever so slightly against his touch, the tiniest change but something he had become intimately familiar with in his years with Ariel, and then, a second before he could ask her if she was gonna cum for him in her sexy, cosy hoodie, the vixen threw her hooded head back against the rear of the couch, arched her back, and screamed a long, piercing, utterly mindless, joyous scream as hot juices doused her husband's fingers, and her whole body began to writhe within the warm, comfy, erotic embrace of her hoodie.

[center]*******[/center]

"Thank you so much. Okay, bye! Thanks!"

Charlie sat naked on the couch, blushing, grinning, waiting as he heard his wife speak once more, then just a few moments later heard the front door finally click shut. Seconds later she was all but staggering into the living room with a truly wild glint in her eyes, and it seemed as though it was chance more than anything which kept Ariel from just dropping or throwing the pizza box onto the coffee table as she hurried over, set it down, and then flung herself onto her husband's lap.

She straddled him, she reached down and grabbed his cock by its base, and a moment later they were both crying out as his five inches slipped inside of her, the hoodie that she had worn to the door barely concealing a pussy and thighs that were soaking wet with not just the lingering remnants of her last gushing orgasmic release over twenty five minutes prior, but fresh arousal too.

"I was bottomless, squeaks... o-ohh fuck, I was bottomless, I wasn't wearing anything except the hoodie. If I'd bent over, if I'd had to reach up for something. If my hoodie had gotten caught on the door handle or... o-or if my tail had twitched in just the wrong way, he would have seen [i]everything[/i]. Fucking everything, Charlie. O-oh god. Ohhfuck... fuck me, squeaks. Fuck your sexy, soaking wet, bottomless wife."

She was already bouncing on him as she spoke. Already riding him feverishly. A shrill shriek escaped the vixen as Charlie's trembling hands reached down and slid up under her hoodie, not lifting it to expose her loins to his hungry gaze, but fondling her thighs and the sides of her soft belly while they remained covered.

"Maybe next time you can wear one of those remote vibrators while you answer it."

Charlie gasped between his wife's cries. They both knew that would never happen. She wasn't actually interested in getting caught, or putting a totally unaware person in the position of actually being put face to face with something so explicit and more overtly sexual that they hadn't consented to. But the fantasy of it... the [i]idea[/i] of it being potentially real in some imagined future? She had enjoyed having those sorts of fantasies fed into her mind for many, many years, longer even than her relationship with Charlie.

"I could finger you right to the edge of orgasm, and make you answer the door before you get to cum. I could wait until you were in the middle of accepting the order, and start playing one of our recordings of us together at full volume on the TV. I could go out there with you, stick a hand under your hoodie, and rub your clit right in front of the driver while I tell them how obsessed my gorgeous goober of a wife is with the idea of being naked under her favourite hoodie, and how it makes her... o-oh. Ohh, Ariel..."

Charlie's rapid-fire descriptions trailed off as his wife screamed, threw herself forward, and buried her hood-enwrapped face against the bare fur of her husband's shoulder as she stopped bouncing and began to grind down against his twitching, throbbing cock. Her pussy spasmed and convulsed. Hot gushes of liquid soaked Charlie's shaft, the fur of his crotch and his aching balls, and as Ariel began to cum, to squirt less than a minute after beginning to ride her husband's cock, he moaned and whispered to her, and caressed her soft belly, and squeaked in both glee and ecstasy of his own at the idea that if she was really this worked up, he might be able to make her cum once or even twice more before finishing inside of her for the first time that night.

[center]*******[/center]

"Cumming... cumming... [i]cumming![/i]"

Ariel whined, gasped, wailed as she braced herself against the side of the kitchen counter-top, sleeves rolled up and arms covered in soap-suds from washing up the plates and drinks glasses they'd used alongside their pizza. Her juices streamed down the insides of her legs and dripped onto the floor between her spread, well braced footpaws as underneath the front of her hoodie her husband's fingers strummed her tender clit like an acoustic guitar, but it was feeling the moisture of his cum against the fur on the base of her tail and between the cheeks of her rump where he had been rubbing, humping, grinding for the last ten minutes which sent her over the edge. Or, more specifically, knowing that he had teased up and exposed the naked fur and flesh of her ass from underneath her hoodie, and that he had been so turned on by what he found there, by what she was wearing and what she looked like as she wore it, that he couldn't even wait for her to finish the dishes before letting loose again.

[center]*******[/center]

"Are you masturbating, goober?"

Charlie knew the answer, and his wife knew the question was coming as he peeked his head into her office where Ariel had slipped away to just ten minutes prior to answer an email from her boss which apparently couldn't wait until morning. She also knew that he would have his phone in hand, recording as he slipped into the room and found her there at her desk, knees drawn up to her chest and legs almost entirely covered by the fabric of her hoodie that had been pulled over them, only the reflection of her flushed, panting, hooded face in the computer screen giving her away. That and the slight creak of her chair as her body subtly rocked with the motion of her hand, one arm sleeve of her hoodie empty, as well as the muted but explicit lesbian scene playing on the screen in front of her. One of the two women was a vixen, probably not even out of college yet, dressed in a cute tiger striped onesie with its buttoned front open to expose her tits and pussy. The other was an older woman, probably about the same age that Ariel was now. A tiger; taller, chubbier, bigger in every respect than the vixen, naked from the waist down and wearing a dark hoodie that seemed a touch too small for her, stretched across her broad, plump frame.

The tiger wasn't touching the other woman, but talking to the younger vixen who lay on the bed, eyes bulging, back arched as she desperately finger-fucked herself with three digits and a thumb furiously working her clit at the same time. The vixen was nodding frantically between silent screams, and clearly even though she was cumming, she wasn't stopping. It seemed like she might never stop.

Charlie shifted the view of his phone's camera from the screen to his wife's face as he moved to stand beside her, just in time to watch her eyes bulge and her face contort. She didn't scream. She didn't howl. She never did when she watched videos of her and her first love. But Charlie could hear the wetness of her juices gushing over her hand as she kept masturbating while she climaxed to one of those old, comparably grainy recordings from the mid 2000s, and he could see on her face that even if the memories still hurt a little, she was glad to be reminded of exactly what had set her on this path, and one of the countless reasons why that sexy, cosy hoodie meant so, so much to her.

[center]*******[/center]

Muffled squeaks rang out from inside the stretched out interior of the hoodie, and Ariel's eyes crossed as she wrapped her arms tight around the shifting, shuddering front of her favourite piece of clothing. Her husband was inside it. He was inside her, too, fucking her in an absolute frenzy, his hips a blur. But what was driving him so wild that he couldn't stop squeaking, and what was driving her so wild that she knew she was about to cum again, the fourth since they'd lain down in bed together for the night and somewhere beyond a dozen in terms of her total count for the day, was that he was inside the hoodie with her. Inside her special little world. A place where she had only allowed him to venture more than five years after they had been together, three after they'd been married.

He knew how much that hoodie meant to her. He had accepted it, and its significance to her, right from the start, and truthfully that more than anything else had been what had made Ariel certain that he was going to be the person she'd spend as much of the rest of her life with as the universe would allow. But it had still been a long time before she had trusted him enough to not just make love to her as she wore it, but to join her inside it. To enter a world that until then had only been comprised of two souls, the only two people to have ever [i]worn[/i] the hoodie in any sense. Herself, and Lily.

Now though, it was the three of them. Her late partner, herself, and her husband. Three sets of memories. Three sets of experiences. Three times the number of reasons why feeling sexy when she wore it was only scraping the surface of the true reasons why Ariel was so devoted to, so obsessed with wearing that hoodie for as much of the year as she possibly could.

As her husband squeaked and wailed with muffled lust from where his face was buried between her breasts though, while his whole body writhed and bucked, hidden from head to tail-base by the hoodie's worn and stretched out fabric, Ariel's eyes widened in more than just rapidly building, near-orgasmic lust as she realised something. Something that made her eyes water, and drew a truly joyous, rapturous scream from her muzzle even though she hadn't quite started to cum yet.

She wasn't too hot. Unlike earlier in the day when the sun had been shining through her office window, the evening air was actually quite cool, and without the heating turned on in their home, her exposed, bare legs were actually rather cool as she lay writhing atop the already damp, tangled bedsheets.

She had been wrong about the weather.

She had been wrong, and that meant only one thing.

There were still some days left, maybe even weeks, in hoodie season.

And until it finally did grow so warm that they could justify cranking up the AC and giving Ariel the opportunity to slip into it for at least an hour or so at a time each week until mid-fall, the vixen was going to keep on wearing it every single day, and making the very most of every soft, cosy, sexy second she could in the process.

"Oh, squeaks..."

She whined happily as she felt her husband's hips jerk, freeze, and suddenly his cock began to twitch and spurt what little it still had left to give after several climaxes of its own that evening into her waiting pussy. She felt his hot breath between her breasts. She felt his hands shifting, writhing, pawing blindly at her fur within the hoodie until he managed to grapple and grope her tits.

Ariel's eyes crossed. Her toes splayed out, and as she yelped in ecstasy and began to cum alongside her squeaking husband within the hoodie's embrace, she swore she could almost hear the roaring, yowling wails of a cosy, sexy, hoodie wrapped tiger cumming hard along with them both, too.

By Jeeves