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“Hey, Addie. What ya doin' next Sunday? You and Field?"

“I don't know," the pink-furred bat replied.

It was a drizzly, grey morning in February, the day after the Super Bowl. And they were currently the only two people in the town library. (That they had to be because they worked there was beside the point.)

“Good! Cause Kody wants to do a thing for Daytona," Ketchy declared, texting back-and-forth with her mate (an electrician/handyman).

The fox squirrel was sitting on the checkout desk next to a stack of returned books. Her cinnamon-sugar tail fluffed about, foot-paws not quite reaching the carpeted floor.

“Why?" Adelaide went, still not looking up from her computer.

“A race party! Well … actually, how many people do you need to qualify?"

“For the race? Field would know." He was the diehard motorsports fan of the group.

“Noooo, to make it a party." Not waiting for an answer, the squirrel looked it up on her phone. “Seven? 'Anything fewer than seven is considered a gathering.' Who decided that?" A frown. “Alright, fine … so, it won't be a party." Her expression lit up. “It'll be an exclusive, super fun invitation-only best friends gathering! Yay! You're coming, right? Did you already say yes? I don't remember."

“I didn't know Kody was a car guy," was Adelaide's non-committal response.

“His favorite video game is a car game!"

“Oh, right. Cruise Control?"

“Cruze'n Drift: XTRA."

“The one with UFO's and googly-eyed tornadoes and nitro-boost jump ramps? Yeah, we were there when he got it."

“Heh, almost forgot about that," the squirrel said.

For one of Kody's birthdays, he and Ketchy had played Cruze'n Drift while Field and Adelaide had watched, and things had gotten … well, to put it politely, gaming together was a form of foreplay for them.

“But, yeah, Kody used to be a plain old 'stick and ball' guy. Heh, not that—" A giggle. “Girl to girl, he can still swing and dunk, though! Stick and ball … if you know what I mean?" A pause. “Do you know what I—"

“Yes," the bat said. “A bit of a reach. Not one of your better puns."

“Psh! Maybe you just didn't understand it!"

Adelaide didn't respond.

The squirrel crossed her arms and continued, “Ever since Field brought him to the Indy 500 last year, Kody's been 'broadening his horizons'. I told him that following another sport doesn't exactly count. So he accused me of being 'elitist'." Kody was somewhat of a himbo. Maybe more than somewhat. Hunky and handy but not the brightest. “Can you believe that? I'm, like, the least-elitist squirrel there ever was. You can't spell elitist without 'least'!" A pause as she checked. “Well, most of it."

“Uh-huh."

“So, okay, okay!" Uncrossing her arms, the squirrel counted on her paws. “We'll supply the pizza and breadsticks. And don't worry, I'll get two orders of breadsticks this time. With extra cheese cups. And chips? Addie, why would anyone eat a regular, soft potato chip when kettle chips exist? They should just stop making the other ones. Should we have nachos, too? Hmm. Yes," the fox squirrel decided, texting Kody back. After a moment, she added, “Aaaand … he wants Field to make desserts. Cookies. Especially 'the peanut butter deals with the chocolate things in the middle.' You know the ones?"

“Peanut butter blossoms, yeah," Adelaide said distractedly, elongated bat thumbs tap-tapping at her keyboard.

“Addie, you've been ignoring me all morning!" Ketchy put her phone down, huffing with annoyance.

“Believe me, I've been subjected to every word you've said," Adelaide promised.

“Then what are you looking up on there? It's not porn, is it?"

“No!" The pink-furred 'ghost bat/red bat' sat up straight. “Why would you think that?"

Ketchy rolled her green eyes. “Cause it's pretty obvious you're in heat."

“How? I put on scent-blockers."

“A girl knows!" The squirrel tapped the side of her muzzle. “We've been friends too long. I know your cycle better than Field."

Adelaide wasn't sure about that.

“Besides, you're all frazzled and shaky like you're goin' through withdrawals." Ketchy grinned and added, “You need some Vitamin D. And by Vitamin D, I mean—"

“I know what you mean."

“Admit it, that was a great pun."

“I'll call the punny pages."

“Ha!" Ketchy got off the table and circled around. “Come on, no secrets, what're you 'knocking on heaven's door' to? Now, that wasn't a pun. It was a euphemism."

Adelaide rolled her purple eyes. “Ketchy … "

The squirrel looked over her friend's shoulder. “'How long to get over a cold'? 'How to treat a cold'? Huh?" She blinked. “I don't get it."

“Field's sick," Adelaide grumbled, slumping back in her chair.

“Oh, no. How sick?"

“It's hard to tell with mice." Adelaide leaned back in her chair, swiveling the seat left to right. “They're so fragile. They can be extra cute when they're sniffle-squeaking pitifully, though."

“Aw! Heh. He'll be better by Sunday, though, if this is any indication." Ketchy's green eyes darted over the website Adelaide had pulled up. “Seven days, it says?"

“Well, I don't need him to be better in seven days. I need him to be better now," Adelaide complained.

Ketchy went back to the front of the desk, looking around conspiratorially before whispering, “He can't smell you at all?"

“Even if he could, his libido is shot."

“Damn, that's rough. You should've mated a rabbit," Ketchy bragged, ditching the whisper. “Kody can be sick and horny at the same time!" A pause, scrunching her brow. “I think that's probably how I got COVID last year … "

“I'm happy for you," Adelaide said dryly.

“Aw, don't be like that, Addie. I'm just trying to lighten the mood. Anyway, think of how good it'll feel when he finally screws you!"

“If I can survive that long," the bat said.

“Surely, you have 'toys'."

“Yeah. I got some." A huff. “But you know it’s not the same," the bat complained, squirming in her chair.

“Better than nothing."

“I thought one of the benefits of being forty was that my heats would get less intense. But it's been the opposite. It's like my body is going all-in to get the last-minute goal." She and Field were childless, and they intended to stay that way. She had quite a stock of 'after' pills to use for such occasions … but hadn't needed them so far.

“Goal? See how it all comes back to sports! Really makes you think," the younger squirrel said with a sage nod.

“About what?"

Ketchy considered and then waved a paw. “Look, if you need to take an extended 'bathroom break,' I'll cover for you. Not like we're swamped or anything."

“You sure it's okay?"

“Why not? You've covered for me before! If anyone asks for you, I'll just say 'boss is taking the catamaran for a sail'."

“What?" Adelaide frowned. What kind of wordplay was that? “Look. Just don't say anything, okay? I'm indisposed."

“Rubbing that raspberry from tart to sweet!" Ketchy predicted.

The bat gave a scoffing laugh as she scooted her chair back and stood up, pivoting, walking to the staff lobby (with its private restroom).

“That was four stars! On a four-star scale," Ketchy called after her.

Adelaide, not possessing a middle finger to flip her friend off, just flapped her wings once.

Ketchy giggled, flopping into the chair and surfing the web on Adelaide's computer.

By evening, the bat's condition hadn't abated.

If anything, it was stronger.

She felt like she could fly around the room (she could not). So much energy! Horny energy.

I just wanna be tired.

I wanna get some sleep!

Of course, she liked sex. Of course, she was comfortable with her body. But there was only so much she could take.

Like sleep would even help. Ha. Funny.

Her heat would only follow her into her dreams, turning them vividly erotic, and she'd wake panting, dizzy …

And sadly unfulfilled.

And males thought this was fun?!

Screw them.

Mm, literally, who can I screw?

“God dammit," Adelaide muttered.

At the kitchen table, flush with feverish fatigue, she couldn't stop pleasuring herself while watching videos on her laptop. A rabbit riding a chipmunk.

“Ah … ahh, yeah … "

Oh, come on, come on …

She was getting close (again!).

So close!

Yes.

YES.

She was gonna—

Field came into the kitchen

“Mousey!" Adelaide quickly shut her laptop. She huffed, purple eyes fully dilated, body quivering on the edge of climax.

Where'd he come from?!

Field didn't say anything. Had he even heard her? Sniffling and shivering, buckteeth chattering, the harvest mouse was wrapped in a woolen blanket. He looked like a trainwreck. And that was putting it charitably.

I mean …

Have you looked in a mirror, today?

She had. Multiple times.

You're not much better, yourself.

The bat swallowed and ran a trembling wingtip through her disheveled, pink head-fur, playing it cool (if Field hadn't been so out of it, he would've seen through her in an instant), remaining seated to hide the fact that her pants were around her ankles. And, also, that a dildo was stuffing her pussy.

Not all of Ketchy's suggestions are bad.

She wasn't embarrassed to be caught 'pawing off,' if it came to that.

She had exhibitionist tendencies.

But she knew Field felt miserable. Because of his cold, one, but also because he couldn't satisfy her in her time of need. She didn't want to rub it in. He'd just start apologizing. Or maybe even cry. And then the bat would feel bad (well … worse).

Field, nose still stuffy and unable to sense what Adelaide was up to, went to the sink, leaning against it, eyes half-open like he might collapse. Or maybe throw up.

“What are you doing? Are you okay?" Adelaide asked. “Field?"

“I'm … I'm … h-hungry," the harvest mouse said, nose tickling. He tilted his golden head back. “Ah, ah … ah … " His whiskers twitched, his slender body contorting. “Ah-choo!" He spit some mucous into the sink.

Adelaide made face. “Get back to bed."

Field groaned.

“Did you hear me?"

He nodded slowly.

“I'll bring you some soup."

“O-okay," he whimpered, gradually turning around and shuffling away. His ropy tail, normally raised, was dragging on the floor, reflecting his low-energy state.

The bat huffed, eying his rump as he left.

Was Field extra cute right now? Mmm. He seemed even more subby than usual when he was sick.

Stop it.

That's just the heat talking.

“Mmf."

Yeah, it's talking.

It's telling me I need to cum.

Before she could make it happen, her big, scoop-like ears swiveled. Shuffling foot-paws?

Field was coming back … ?

Aaarggh.

“I thought I told you to lay down?" Adelaide insisted, as gently as she could. A little annoyance slipping through, though.

“W-what kind of soup?" Field asked, standing in the entryway to the kitchen.

Adelaide sighed. “I don't know. What kind do you want?"

Sniffling, Field went to check the cupboards.

Adelaide squirmed. She really shouldn't have left that dildo inside her. It was pressing on certain 'sensitive' spots.

Field listed the soups they had.

“Split—" Sniff. “Potato pea." Cough-cough. Cough! “R-r … roasted carrot ginger … and, ahhnd, ah!" Holding his breath, he barely staved off another sneeze. “V-vegetable." He hugged himself and turned to face his mate. “W-which one is the best for a cold?"

“We'll go with the carrot ginger. Ginger packs a hot kick. It'll stop your shivers in no time."

“T-thanks." A weak smile. “You're so g-good to me … "

“I know. I'm the best." She returned his smile. “Now, go on! Before you collapse or something." She made 'shooing' motions with her wings. “I'll be there in a bit."

The mouse shuffled away again, buckteeth still chattering.

Adelaide waited to make sure he was really gone. When she was sure, the bat reached down to pull the dildo out … only to shove it back in. She just couldn't help herself. In, out, in and out! Furiously rubbing her clit, too.

So good!

“Ohh, god … yes, yes … "

She was close, but she needed something 'extra' to push her over the edge.

A quick internet search. _ _

There wasn't much bat/mouse porn to be had.

Society has no taste.

The predator/prey fetish was very popular. A lot of 'forbidden' mouse/cat stuff.

Hmm.

Nah.

There was a tag for 'wings,' where bats just spread their wings and nakedly writhed around while naked partners licked and rubbed on them?

Seen it, been it.

She settled on a video of an athletic male otter rutting a female fancy rat.

Look that those muscles.

That tail.

Blowing out a breath, the bat murmured, “Ahh, yeah … you can dive into me any day."

Now, that's a quality pun! Or euphemism? Whatever.

It's true what they say, though.

Otters are hotter.

Slumping back, head tilting and maw agape, the video drove the bat to orgasm.

Pussy wracked with electric bliss, she trembled, slack-jawed and drooling as she withdrew the dildo for good. She stared at it, all neon-green and glistening lewdly with her own juices.

“Guhhh."

She plopped the silicone toy on the table, chittering with momentary relief.

Field's supper.

While you're in a window of sanity.

Getting up, the bat pulled her pants on, fastening them and shuffling to the stove. Opening a can of roasted carrot ginger soup, she poured it into a pot, heating it with an occasional stir.

She gave it a taste test, smacking her lips. Her brows raised. “Mm."

Not bad!

Maybe she'd have a can, herself?

By the time she brought a bowl to the bedroom (with a plate of crackers on the side), Field had fallen asleep. Curled in a ball in the middle of the bed, blankets piled upon him. So much so that his forehead was damp with sweat.

My poor guy.

Should I wake him up?

Yes.

He needs to eat.

“Mousey … " Adelaide, setting the soup on the bedside stand, nudged him. “Field … "

“Mm … wha? Adelaide?" His buckteeth chattered again. “Did I … fall asleep?"

“Yup."

“I f-feel so cold … "

“You know you're sweating, right?"

The mouse sniffled, feeling his damp forehead. “Oh … "

“Look, it's gonna be okay. I brought you some soup! You need to eat it. It'll make you feel better."

Field considered this but didn't move, just curled into a tighter, golden-furred ball.

“Come on, now. You wanted it, remember?" She poked at him with her wingtips. “Don't make me spoon feed you."

Wait, are you getting turned on by that?

Who said I was?

Mm.

Maybe a little …

But it's not my fault!

_There's no such thing as kinks when you're in heat. _

Field, oblivious to Adelaide's lascivious thoughts, finally uncurled, crawling to the head of the bed, sitting up against the headboard. He was dressed in only his underwear.

“Here you go. Careful," Adelaide said, giving him the soup. “There's crackers if you want them."

The mouse's trembling, pink paw spooned creamy orange soup to his mouth. It was still giving off steam.

Sluuurp!

He smacked his lips.

“How is it?" she asked.

“W-warm. Spicy. I think? I can only half taste it." He slurped another spoonful. “It's good. T-thank you … "

“No problem. When you're done, just put the bowl on the bedstand. I'm gonna sleep on the couch tonight."

“I can … I can take the couch."

“You're staying in bed."

“But"

“This isn't a debate," she said firmly.

Field nodded.

The bat blew him a kiss and turned to leave. Then she stopped to add, “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Kody and Ketchy want us to watch Daytona at their house. He wants you to make cookies."

“If I'm better by then … maybe I'll never get better," the mouse said weakly, whiskers drooping.

“Don't be like that. You're in the middle of it, now, mousey. By the end of the week, you'll be back to yourself!"

“But so will you," he added. He stirred idly at his soup. “I'm sorry I can't satisfy you. I know how hard it is for you … "

Adelaide huffed, eying her mate's loins.

Yeah, I wish.

“This, again?" she gently chided aloud. “What did I say about apologizing?"

“N-not to do it … "

“That's right. You've satisfied me more than anyone I've ever met. More times than I can remember, too. A few days of 'involuntary chastity' isn't too much to endure. We'll get through this."

Field, taking this to heart, sniffled and blew back her earlier kiss.

Adelaide smiled. “Now, eat the rest of your soup. And get some sleep."

Adelaide's prediction proved correct.

Field was feeling much better by the end of the week, and by Sunday? Almost completely healed. Except for one thing: his libido. It was still lagging behind the rest of him, a sluggish casualty. They were on ten days without sex (which, for them, was pushing some kind of record).

Adelaide was no longer in heat, but she still wanted it.

She confided as much to Ketchy in the kitchen (while Kody and Field were in the living room) at the squirrel and rabbit's house.

“You gotta rev his engine, Addie. Ha! Get it? Cause it's race—"

“Uh-huh."

“What gets Field going, anyway?" Ketchy asked with a head-tilt.

“He's hard to read, sometimes. He's just so … passive?" Adelaide grabbed a cookie. “I mean, he'll do anything I want him to, but he never makes demands of me."

“But that's your jam, isn't it? You like to hold the reigns?"

“Mm … yeah." The bat nibbled on the cookie. “But—" More nibbling. “Sometimes, I wouldn't mind a little more input?"

“He's such a shy guy! I'd dom him, too." The squirrel swirled a breadstick in a cheese cup and stuffed the end into her maw. Chomping and chewing.

“You couldn't dom anyone," Adelaide insisted, rolling her eyes. “You let Kody walk all over you."

“No!" The squirrel swallowed and licked her lips, correcting, “I let him go 'wild hare' on me."

“What's the difference?"

“You'd have to feel it to know!" Ketchy said coyly, tilting her nose to the ceiling.

The bat smirked. “And he's not a hare. He's an oversized fluffy bunny."

“Well, he fucks like a hare!"

“When did you ever breed with a hare?"

“Uh, I work at the library, Addie. I've read things!"

“You mean like 'A Night in a Moorish Hare-em'?"

“It's 'historical fiction'!"

“Try 'supernatural erotica'," Adelaide countered.

“Same difference! I'm sure it's more accurate than those silly foodie comedy murder books … or whatever it is you read."

“They're called 'cozy mysteries', and they're wholesomely addicting." The bat read all the 'cozies.' But, “None of this helps solve my problem."

“You're really overthinking this, Addie. Both of you are."

“The brain is the biggest sex organ," Adelaide defended.

“That's what people who can't get laid say as an excuse."

“I can get laid," Adelaide insisted, showing her fangs. “We're just … having a dry spell." She finished her cookie. “Hasn't that ever happened to you and Kody?"

“Hmm. Not really? Maybe it will when we're in our forties," the thirty-four year old squirrel said.

Adelaide gave her friend a slight glare.

“Pounce him or something. Don't give him time to react. A quick jolt. That's what you two need. Like a pussy defibrillator to his junk."

“You sure have a way with words, Ketchy."

In the living room, the pre-race festivities were winding down.

“So, mouse man," Kody said, chomping into a slice of pizza. “Who are we rooting for, hmm?" He chewed and swallowed. “Who should I put five bucks on?" Whipping out his phone, the rabbit opened his go-to betting app.

The mouse, nibbling on his own slice, said, “Well, uh … I don't think they'll win. But I'm for the 2, 12, and 22."

“That's your team, huh?"

“Yeah."

“Why's that?" the white, black-tipped Himalayan rabbit asked, taking a swig of soda, scrolling through the odds.

“Well, my IndyCar team owns them, too." He'd been a fan of the same team for thirty years, since he'd been a young pup.

“Really. That's allowed?"

“Why wouldn't it be?"

“Cause it's the same sport. That's a monopoly or something."

“Pretty sure it's not."

“Never liked that game."

“Huh?"

“Monopoly. I always land on freaking Marvin Gardens. And why would I want to play as a top hat? You seen my ears?"

“Mmhmm." How could he miss them? They were tall and fuzzy, starting out white before becoming dipped in charcoal black.

“They don't do hats."

“Right … anyway … " Field took a breath. “So, yes, Daytona is part of the same sport as Indy, technically, but it's not in the same league or, uh, classification. There's, um … there's lots of leagues. Or championships. Globally." He counted on his fingers. “IndyCar, NASCAR, F1, IMSA, WEC, Formula E—"

“You're putting me to sleep, mouse man! That sounds like homework."

“Well, any game or sport's terminology might feel that way to a newbie. Not that … not that you're a total newbie," he quickly corrected. “But you're—"

“Right, cause I popped my Indy cherry," the rabbit said proudly. “It was fun! Fast and loud. That's how I like it."

He's talking about racing … right?

“We're going again?" Kody asked.

“Mm? Oh. Yeah. Should get my tickets next month."

“Best buds!" Kody said, extending his fluffy paw for a high-five.

Field hesitated and then slapped his paw to Kody's.

“Heck, yeah." Mouth full again (pizza, pizza!), the rabbit pointed at the grid. “So, why don't these cars look like the ones at Indy?"

“Cause they're not? I thought I just addressed that … "

“All I heard was acronyms."

Field was too surprised that Kody knew what acronyms were to really respond to that.

“Mmm. Okay." The rabbit's thumb danced around on his phone screen. “There! I put five bucks on each of your guys. I'll get sixty if any of them win. Awesome! Hey, I tell you I won seventy bucks on the Super Bowl last week?"

“No."

“Well, I did."

“What are you gonna do with it?"

“Get more video games, probably. There's a sequel to Cruze'n Drift coming out soon. Cruze'n Slide: The Reckoning. It might be the best game of all time."

“What is, uh … being reckoned in this game, exactly?" Field asked as he nibbled on a pizza crust.

“Everything! That's why it's so great."

“Hmm. Well, I hope my guys win you more today, though we probably jinxed them," Field said, only half-jokingly. “They'll get taken out in the Big One."

“Big what?"

“Big wreck. This is a drafting track. A superspeedway." He started to gesture with his paws. “The slipstream of air becomes so strong the cars get pulled together in a vacuum, and when one crashes, it often takes out a bunch of others. It's a bit like roulette. That's what makes racing so intense, sometimes. Your team can lose because of someone else's mistake. In other sports, you only lose because of your own mistakes."

“Huh. Guess that's true." A pause. “Oh, hey, you know that Ketchy tells me jinxes aren't real? I'm, like, girl, if you were a lifelong sports fan like me, you'd know about jinxes." Kody scarfed down a quick cookie and said, holding up a finger, “But! Anti-jinxes are a thing, too."

“Anti-jinxes?"

“For real. Yeah, where you weaponize the jinx. Like, root against your team to keep the universe off their scent. They won't ruin your fun if they think you don't want it."

“Wait, um … who's they, exactly?"

“The sports gods."

Field tilted his blonde head, blinked, and decided, “That seems a bit, um … complicated. I'd rather just go down with the ship and root for my guys regardless."

“Mouse man, hold up, I got it! You root for them and I'll root against them. Hah."

“What about your bets?"

“We'll cancel each other out, and we'll both win! Foolproof."

“But if our results neutralized … wouldn't that mean they would mean they would finish where they started?" Field asked logically.

“Are any of them starting in first?"

“No."

“Oh. Damn." The rabbit leaned back into the couch. “Sports gods got us in a tight spot, don't they?"

The mouse, getting flustered, said, “Look. I'm just … I'll just hope for the best. I'm already nervous enough. I don't need to be thinking this much about it."

“Right, right. I got ya." The handsome, hunky rabbit buck put an arm around Field's shoulder. “I'll protect you from the crashes. Heh, heh."

“T-thanks." Field looked at the paw on his arm and then looked to Kody.

Kody flashed him a bucktoothed smile. “Relax!"

The mouse blushed. He had a little (maybe not so little?) 'crush' on Kody that had been consummated before. (During a spontaneous foursome with them and their mates. In this very room. On this very couch. Field had given Kody muzzle … to completion.)

“Ketchy told me you missed Addie's heat."

“Yeah, I was, uh … sidelined by a bad cold," Field said.

“Man, that suuucks! And not in the good way." Kody withdrew his arm to eat more pizza. How many slices had he had? The dude was a vacuum. “Can't get down with the missus when you're down, too, right?"

“Something like that … "

“When Ketchy's in heat … hah, squirrels climb up walls and stuff. She's on me like a jungle gym."

“Sounds like good exercise."

“Now that you're better, been making up for lost time? Eh?"

“Well … not yet."

“Wha?!" Kody blinked. “Really? How come?"

Field shrugged and grabbed another cookie. On the television, the command to start engines was being given. “It's just not there … "

“What's not? The horny?"

“Well, whatever you call it. I can't get it going."

“Hmm. Weird." Kody ate some more and decided, “Your head's not in the game."

Field looked to the rabbit. “Does that happen to you?"

“Nah. Rabbits … like, we're bedroom gurus. Call me 'Doctor Kody'."

Field didn't do that.

“You know what you need to do?"

“What?"

Kody leaned in and lowered his voice, as if discussing a trade secret. “Don't think. Just fuck."

The mouse insisted, “It's not always that easy … "

“That's cause you're making it hard on yourself by trying too hard to get hard," Kody explained. “Three hards cancel each other out, yeah? It's like two wrongs don't make a right. You need to take it easy, then you'll get hard."

Field's whiskers twitched, head tilting as he tried to decipher this.

“Mouse noggins gotta be the busiest ones around. You got one of those exercise wheels in there or something! It's why your whiskers are always twitching."

Field slumped back onto the couch. Kody wasn't wrong about that. His mind was always running away with him.

“It'll work out, mouse man." Kody patted Field's knee. “I believe in you and your dick!"

Field blushed.

“Oh, hey, they're moving!" Kody noticed, of the cars. The field was leaving the pits. “The pacer is leading them onto the track."

The mouse nodded. “Pace car. They'll do three warm up laps."

“Right, right. Babe!" Kody called to Ketchy. “Better get in here! They're about to catch the green light! And bring the rest of the breadsticks!"

“How 'bout now, mousey? Do you feel anything now?" Adelaide asked, sauntering toward the bed. Later that night, at home after the race.

Field swallowed, words getting stuck. His drivers hadn't been too lucky today, but he had a distinct feeling he was about to.

The bat was naked.

His bat.

My bat.

Her vivid pink fur (courtesy of her 'ghost bat' father and 'red bat' mother) was short and soft. Her cotton candy wing-arms were spread for show. Full span, membranes glittering and glowing before she hugged herself and did a slow, swaying rotation, letting Field see her short tail and her rump.

“Gosh!" Laying on his back, head on a pillow, Field told her, “You're so pretty. Like … like an angel."

“Even after all these years, hmm?" Next year was their twentieth anniversary. “Not getting tired of me yet?"

“No. Never."

“You didn't quite answer my question?" the pink bat said, getting onto the bed and crawling to him.

“You must've distracted me from whatever it was."

“I'm mischievous like that. Bats are associated with hell, you know."

“Would I make love with a demon?" he asked a smile.

“If she were dominant enough. If she called you a … mmm, a good boy," Adelaide teased, licking one of his dishy, sensitive ears.

Field shivered hotly. “Maybe … maybe you're a hell's angel?"

“Hmm. Well, I do want to take you to heaven and back."

He giggled.

“There we go," Adelaide cooed, straddling his naked hips. Loving his easy, happy reactions, she rubbed her wings all over his trim, white chest. “Just relax. You don't have to make up for lost time. I'm not expecting Krakatoa. A good ol' Saint Helens will do."

“Volcanoes?" the mouse guessed.

“Mm-hmm."

“Pretty and smart. My bubble gum book bat," Field said, looking up at her with blue-eyed devotion.

“What else am I? Mm?"

“You're, um … "

“Yesss?" she cooed, leaning down to graze her fangs on his shoulder. Pressing her triangular snout to his neck.

“Y-you're my mate."

“And what do people do to their mates?"

“I … they … I mean, I—"

“You can say it. It's just us. You wanna fuck me, don't you?"

“Yes … "

“Say it," she whispered into his ear.

“I wanna fuck you."

“What part of me?"

“Your pussy."

“Mmm. Yeah, you do." Getting the polite mouse to speak lewdly always got her going. “Ten days without a release. You must be so pent up. So much to give." She licked his lips with her long, wily bat tongue. “And you're going to give it all to me."

Field huffed, pawing and gripping her rump. He opened his maw for her.

Her tongue snaked in immediately, easily overpowering his own.

Field's eyes rolled back.

They kissed, their maws and jaws slowly moving, suckling sweetly as their heads twisted to and fro.

While they passionately made out, the mouse started to wriggle. He rubbed his growing, plumping erection against the bat's pouting, fleshy pussy, leaving strings of pre on it.

She broke the kiss to murmur, “Question answered. Pointedly."

“H-heh … "

He reached for himself, pointing his tip at the bat's vagina.

Adelaide pushed back onto his shaft while he held it steady. As he began to penetrate her (or, rather, she swallowed him up), he started to squeak. She was snug, slick, and steamy hot. As ever. He was beside himself, and he wasn't even halfway in!

With a soft, little grunt, Field impulsively slammed his hips to his mate's ass, burying himself to a hilt.

“Mmf!" Adelaide went, taking it eagerly.

“Ah … hah," he panted, cock twitching with pleasure, his pre mixing with her wetness to make for a perfect natural lube.

The bat pushed herself fully upright to give her more leverage. This allowed her to start bouncing. Hard and firm. In control. Rocking, riding him with lip-smacking vigor. His balls making a faint slapping sound each time they 'kissed' her sex.

Field squeaked airily, the sound filling the room.

Adelaide chittered and rode him harder, flapping her wing-arms.

He reached up to grab her breasts, groping, squeezing. Touching her hard, sensitive nipples.

She looked down at him with feral lust, purple eyes like amethysts, glinting as they bore into his baby blues. They were both trapped in 'animal mode' for a moment.

And, then, she suddenly slowed her pace, eased her 'roll,' and sank back to a hilt. Giving him a few seconds to adjust, she began to grind. Gyrate. Steer his cock around without lifting her hips.

“Ah!" he cried.

Adelaide finally lifted until just the glans of his penis was inside her. She hovered there for what felt like minutes (but was really just a second or two). And then, after a slight shimmy, swiftly crashed back down.

“Ahh!"

Field gasped, fingers curling on her hips. He was hanging by a thread.

The bat repeated the motion, aiming to finish him so he could finish her. Sex was nothing if not a series of reliable chain reactions. Maybe that explained their lasting chemistry?

Sure enough, Field buckled, ejaculating two weeks worth of seed into his mate, face scrunched in a helpless, orgasmic expression. He could barely breathe. He was grateful he was on his back, cause he would've fallen over if he wasn't.

He lost track of the spurts. He filled her with his essence, his passion, his love.

“A-adelaide," he whimpered.

“I'm … I'm a-almost. I'm cumming!" The delighted bat desperately rubbed her clit with her wingtip. Huff! Chitter! She threw her head back and released a series of 'echo-bursts.'

The supremely high-pitched sounds bounced off walls and back to their ears. But only her brain could translate the sounds to pictures. She saw the two of them in bed, in needy, desperate union. Each for the other's pleasure.

Every lurid detail.

It was so much better than the videos she'd been watching while he'd been out of commission.

There was no faking the real thing.

Adelaide came, too. Hard.

Field shuddered and moaned as her pussy clenched on him, nursing, milking him for everything he had. (As if he wouldn't have willingly given it.) And leaving a wet mess in its wake.

Adelaide's tongue hung out, eyes rolling back. Head swaying. She made more noises.

Field blew out a breath. And slowly replaced it.

She did the same (a few times), blinking herself back to reality.

They had cleared the peak, finding themselves on the other side, settling softly in the afterglow.

“Oh, mousey," she breathed, laying down on him again. A big, toothy smile and she wrapped him in her wings. “Hug me."

He did so, stroking her back, sweetly squeezing her rump.

The bat nosed at him. “Mmm, I needed that … "

“That makes two of us," he said, nuzzling her neck.

“Let's try not to go that long again … if we can help it?"

“I don't wanna go a day without you. I love you so much." It was such an earnest, cheesy thing to say. But right now? Swimming in good feelings, basking in bliss? It was poetry.

“I love you, too," the bat said, kissing him on the lips.

Deep, twisting.

Passionate.

When it ended, they sighed and cuddled before wandering to the shower.

As they swayed beneath the warm, steamy water, getting clean together, Field wondered, “How come you never caught my cold?"

Adelaide draped her wet wing-arms around him and made a playful, teasy face, showing her fangs. “Hot versus cold? It's no contest. Heat always wins."