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The morning sunlight and a gentle sea breeze bathed my smiling face. Without the latter, the former would almost be unbearable for any mammal to endure for too long. My shirtless body enjoyed the sensation. It tickled my whiskers and caused my rudder tail to begin smacking happily against the wooden deck of our sailboat, a pleasure vessel originally named 'Sea Breeze', and which we identified ourselves as to passing Mississippi Nation ships and settlements we approached. Though me and Sal continuously debated on changing it.

“I'm still saying that there's nothing bad about keeping the name 'Sea Breeze'," Sal brought up at some point. We were on a personal voyage going from New Orleans—or rather, the populated settlement making up what remained of New Orleans—and along the Gulf coast towards our destination. “Sea Breeze is a simple name. It's quick to remember."

“Everyone who's ever owned a boat named theirs 'Sea Breeze'!" I countered, gripping the steering wheel as I watched my exasperated husband hang his head back while leaning against the nearest mast. “I'm serious. Our home should not be named something generic. Or something that could easily be confused with another ship."

“I doubt there's another pair of gay otters living in a ketch sailboat with a rainbow spinnaker," he mentioned deadpan, our eyes glancing up at the Pride-colored spinnaker helping to catch most of the wind. He laughed lightheartedly. “Corey, I keep telling you, there's nothing wrong with a generic name."

“You literally named your first car 'Roadkill', dude," I pointed out.

“So, I never knew the book and movie existed," he laughed, shaking his head. “Sue me."

That was the point where I would normally say 'you're a little too late', but then a sudden harsh gust of Gulf wind struck our sailboat, and I refocused on steering. In turn, Sal began untying some ropes to begin lowering the rear jib sails of the boat. Just in case more harsh winds arrived. Hot temperatures and a cloudless sky overhead didn't mean shit in the short-term, after all. The two of us had already been privy to dark storm clouds gathering further southeast. Even if the storm didn't travel towards us, the very last thing either of us wanted was to give the wind too much control, even if our vessel was a comfortable half a nautical mile from the shoreline.

From the distance we managed to maintain, Sal and I could make out structures, most of them in ruins. Flooded beaches littered or overgrown, abandoned coastal cities, towns destroyed by the frequent hurricanes, dozens of large ships ran aground, and rotting areas of housing development that resembled Atlantis. To think that so many people lived along these shores…now, Mother Nature was reclaiming everything in sight.

Five years had passed since the end of the world. When civilization as we knew it collapsed into utter chaos, many mammals across North America (and presumably the rest of the world) reacted differently. Some barely survived the first harsh summer and winter without electricity. Others, mainly the rich elite, walled themselves off in several fortress-like cities to maintain a modern, air-conditioned lifestyle. Some mammals travelled further inland and north. Others though, they embraced the rising seas, and the Mississippi itself. We were a confederation of settlements and nomadic fleet of boats under one banner, the Mississippi Nation.

Prior to the Collapse, Sal and I worked soul-crushing retail jobs at a sporting store. We grew up dirt poor together in a trailer park on the outskirts of Mobile, Alabama, befriending each other as neighbors and eventually secret boyfriends as soon as we got into high school. The two of us were actually among the first gay couples to register for marriage as soon as it became legal. It cost us our jobs and nearly our apartment as soon as we purchased it, but the love we shared felt worth it.

Unfortunately, it wasn't bigotry that nearly destroyed our marriage prior to the apocalypse. It was financial stress, plus the feeling of complacency. Our jobs barely allowed us to do more than spend hours working, then return home too tired and worn out to do anything else. We both gained weight, barely left our apartment, and it became less affectionate towards each other. One sharp memory that came to mind was when I tried booking a honeymoon for us at a coastal hotel resort facing out towards the Gulf. I was just about to turn in my vacation days when suddenly, we learned that they had been cut down severely due to budget cuts. Eventually, we had to settle on a crappy motel room for our belated honeymoon, and even then, our relationship remained frosty.

No more. No more long hours. No more debts or payments. No more restrictions.

“Do you remember that one movie set in an apocalyptic desert?" Sal asked as soon as the wind died down.

“Y-Yeah?" I replied, relaxing again. “Yeah, that real-life drama."

The two of us snickered at the inside joke. Until recently when our DVD player broke, we would often spend quiet nights in our bedroom, watching intact media that we managed to find during our bi-monthly scavenging trips along the coast. We could find plenty of them in superstores or weather-ravaged homes that had not been completely looted to the bone, and sometimes sell them along with whatever else we found back at the markets in New Orleans. Often, Sal talked about visiting Baton Rouge or St. Louis again during the coming spring.

“Whoever made those films didn't factor in how boring the end of the world would be," he said. “Granted, there's no falling comet, evil zombies, alien invaders…"

“That's because movies aren't supposed to be boring, and get edited," I replied dryly. “Without the editing, we'd see all the boring and disgusting stuff, like characters taking a dump or contemplating their life between action scenes…"

My otter waltzed across the closed door leading below deck. “If we find a new DVD player at the resort, can we keep it?"

I shrugged, “As long as we don't waste electricity on—"

“Of course, I'm not gonna drain the batteries on watching movies, hun!" he interrupted. “Besides, the solar panel still works. I just miss watching stuff on the TV."

“You just wanna have an excuse to reenact our first date again," I teased, and watched his whiskers twitch in front of that cheeky, lustful smile. “We can do that without watching a movie, Sal."

“You say that like it wouldn't be fun," he retorted with a wink. Something caught his eye on the horizon, and those baby blue orbs widened. “Is that…it looks like it!"

I peered over the steering wheel and could feel my webbed toes and rudder tail tremble with excitement. We found it! After traveling across the Mississippi Sound, we had returned to Alabama.

More importantly though, there was something we had to do. Before we would begin looting some of the Beach houses and yacht clubs we could find, Sal and I planned to make one stop; a certain beachside hotel along the shoreline.

***

As tempting as it was to swim across the Sound for the resort, to take advantage of our otter physiology, Sal and I weren't stupid. We also decided to drop our swimming trucks in favor of t-shirts and cargo, if not for practicality, then for the pockets we could put scavenger materials inside.

After securing everything on the sailboat, lowering the sails, taking down the spinnaker, and dropping the boat's anchor, we parked our home at the end of the resort's wooden dock. At least, a portion of it that wasn't falling apart or damaged.

The Southern Belle. Once, it used to be a popular resort for both tourists and honeymooners, but years of neglect and unpredictable weather patterns left most of the property a shell of its former self. Debris, fallen trees, littered garbage and overgrown nature filled the pathways and sidewalks. Disgusting algae and water filled the swimming pools. Electronics we did manage to find sustained water damage due to broken windows. However, the components and metal within them would be more than sufficient for trading.

Knives in paw, we explored the resort, quipping about what we would've done if my initial plans for a honeymoon hadn't fallen over that first time. We groaned together when we discovered that plenty of the rooms had their wiring cut from the walls already. We reminisced together at how bad that crappy hotel stay had been and hoped that at least one of the hurricanes destroyed it in the years since society collapsed. We then laughed together at the thought of fucking like wild animals in one of the hot tub is under the moonlight sky.

We were already exploring the second and third floors when the thought started to turn into reality. Though not in the way I initially imagined, at first.

“You know," Sal mentioned with a coy smirk, “I noticed a suite on the first floor that didn't have mold or too much crap. The bed looks untouched too…"

“Hmm, you don't say?" Our eyes connected. “Wanna take a break then?"

Sal grinned, grasping my paw. “Thought you'd never ask, hun!"

Imagination made me picture us as newlyweds instead of scavengers. We passed by housekeeping and resort staff that rolled their eyes at our giggling, who didn't blink as we scurried down a hallway from the stairs and into one of a number of the hotel's suites. We locked the door. Our lips collided. Our whiskers tickled. Our tails swayed back and forth as I was pushed against the bed. One of my webbed paws roamed from underneath his aging, oversized t-shirt, and snuck inside the hem of his cargo shorts. They jiggled with metals, coins, and wiring as I peeled it down to the floor. Mine did too. Erect cocks rubbed together, harder than ever. Our moaning and panting breaths tickled the other's whiskers. When I began lifting my shirt up, Sal quickly took advantage of my vulnerability and bit my left nipple.

“Nnahhh!" I gasped, half in pain and the other I'm surprised arousal. And then, his teeth and tongue began suckling on it for milk that would never come. “F-Fuck! Oh that feels so good…!"

“Hehehe, you fell for my…mmwah!" He kissed that one hardened nub, then went for the other, causing me to cry out in deepened pleasure. “Hehe, my trap!"

“R-Ravage me, scavenger!" I wailed exaggeratedly. “I am but a weak, helpless wanderer at your mercy!"

Sal laughed between through laps of his tongue and chuckled amusedly whenever he pulled at my left nipple with either his teeth or fingers.

I fumbled backwards onto the king-sized bed as he continued his teething assault. The bedframe creaked and the blanket seemed to swallow my body as I relaxed into the mattress. Neither of us had been smart enough to save some of our personal lubrication the previous night, the same ones that we had purchased in bulk form a month prior. So instead of going in unprepared, one flustered, shared look between us said it all.

“Are you sure?" he asked, his tongue partly touching the the hard, wet nub of my right nipple. “We can do more than frot, if you want? I promise to be gentle…"

“Last time you said that," I remarked, blushing, “I ended up nearly alerting all of Louisiana that my impatient husband," Sal rolled his eyes at my emphasized words, “was fucking me dry."

“We didn't see anybody coming in," he tried arguing. To further tempt me, Sal began to hump his big length curving against my bare rump, and I could already feel him leaking. “As far as things go, this is a quiet region…"

“And I don't wanna risk inviting raiders by making a lot of noise," I retorted. “Besides, I actually like it when we frot. It…reminds me of our second date."

He smiled like I did, then leaned forward to kiss me.

“That was a fun prom night," he whispered against my whiskers.

“A very fun prom night," I echoed, and leaned up to pull him in another kiss. This time, it went on for in eternity of seconds. “I love you, Sal…"

He beamed. “I love you too, Corey. I love you so much…"

Our lips connected and our tongues leisurely danced once more, the luxurious bed squeaking as we rocked against each other, moaning with delight in the other's maw. His hard cock shifted to grind against mine, our paws roaming around blindly. We groped each other's shoulders, our thighs, flaps of furry skin we'd gained from losing weight after the apocalypse, our flexing asses, and the tails that slapped repeatedly against the mattress underneath us. We were in Heaven.

The two of us had been through many things the previous five years; the collapse of civilization, the rise of new ones in the form of Appalachia end of the Mississippi Nation, death, destruction, extreme weather, ungodly summers and incredible depravity we have been fortunate enough to avoid. Others were not so lucky. Those who didn't die during the chaotic, destructive months immediately after the continental-wide blackout died from dozens of different ways; starvation, disease, the superstorms, the accumulating pollution, not to mention the first couple winters up north.

Sal and I were very fortunate, being in the South. As I thrusted harder against my otter and kept fierily kissing him like no tomorrow, I could feel my heart beat faster and my cock pulse greater. We lost so much, but gained much greater things, and we did it together. In a twisted sense of irony, the end of the world is saved my marriage. It brought us closer together.

I clutched onto his biceps, and he grasped my impressive pecs, both born from years of roping and working on a sailboat. And as our rocking reached a frantic fever pitch, our lips bruised together as our dicks painted each other's chests and torsos, and Sal collapsed his sweaty head into my convulsing shoulder. It wasn't long until we spurted out the rest of our cum and could feel it begin to dry.

“Do you…" he panted, “think that…there's still…some water?"

“To shower?" I asked between deep breaths. “Mmm…maybe? We can check later…"

For the moment, I just wanted to hold my husband in my arms. He did too, and we lay there silent and sweaty as the sounds of the ocean carried over through the hotel window.

***

We managed to make a good haul on our first coastal stop in Alabama. We felt certain that mobile and the surrounding suburbs were either flooded or looted beyond comprehension already, but it couldn't hurt to check. For the moment though, we needed to return westward before the incoming hurricane struck.

Gripping the boat's wheel, I turned to smile at the otter as he leaned against my shoulder, our tails resting together as he leaned against me. His whiskers tickled my neck as we stared back out to the horizon westward, back to New Orleans.

“Hey Sal?"

“Yes, Corey?"

“I think I found a name," I said. “How does 'The Second Honeymoon' sound to you?"

All I could hear was the sea breeze gently caressing the sails. Chuckling, Sal hugged me from behind and kissed my cheek.

“It's perfect."