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“Yo, mouse-o!”

Emerson looked up in time to be bonked on the head by a flying, rolled-up newspaper. It landed on the kitchen table (where he was sitting), barely missing his breakfast. Two slices of whole wheat toast with black raspberry jam, along with a bowl of oatmeal.

The harvest mouse blinked.

“Oops! Heh. Here, lemme kiss it better,” Charlie said, padding toward him.

“I think I’ll live. The Arcadia Gazette usually doesn’t have enough news to concuss anyone,” Emerson insisted, taking the rubber band off the roll and checking out the main page. The paper was a thrice-weekly production: Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays.

Charlie nonetheless delivered on her promise, the younger (by nine years) fox squirrel planting a kiss between her golden-furred mate’s big, dishy ears. “Mwah! There. All good?”

“You’re better than medicine,” Emerson told her distractedly as he zeroed in on today’s main story.

Charlie beamed, clasping her paws together.

Emerson paused and looked back up. Wait. “Are you naked?”

“I just woke up!” she said, doing a little twirl. Her silvery-bronze, speckled fur was a handsome complement to his gold. (Together, they were award-worthy!)

“Yeah, but you went outside … you, uh, didn’t go to the mailbox like that, did you?”

Charlie waved a paw. “We live on a gravel road. Private property.”

“I know, but—"

“You don’t gotta be jealous, Emmy.”

“Jealous?”

“Nobody saw! But, you’re right, if they did, they were probably like, ‘I’d tap that’. Unless they were a girl, and then they’d … hmm, what would they say? Bump or smash?”

“Putting aside the public display, it’s January. It’s freezing outside.”

“Psh! I’m from Canada, eh?” She waved a paw. “I’ve got a proper winter coat.” She hugged herself and bobbed on her foot-paws. “I’m so soft and cozy!”

“You sure shed like it,” Emerson replied.

“Heh. Anyway. You’ve only got boxers on,” the squirrel pointed out, sashaying close enough to drape her tail over him.

“Boxer-briefs,” Emerson corrected, giving in and grabbing her tail, stroking it softly.

“Ooh, the snug ones? Mmf.” She scooted his chair back and straddled his lap. Their noses touched. “I like how they show off your balls.”

Emerson chuckled, arms going around her neck. “Are you gonna get dressed at all today?”

“I’ll put pants on when you do,” Charlie promised, booping his nose.

His blue eyes crossed.

A smirk, standing up and turning around, walking toward the stove. “Probably after breakfast,” she added, “when we fuck.”

A teapot whistled on the stove before Emerson could respond.

The buoyant squirrel spun to remove it from the burner. Then she bounded to the cabinet and proceeded to get the twins’ food ready.

EJ and Azalea.

They were already starting to fuss! She could hear them. At eight months, they’d recently been weaned and were on formula, now. She mixed and warmed it up while mashing some food.

Emerson went back to reading the paper.

In the biggest print possible, the front-page headline was: “Inauguration! Co-Mayors Sworn In!”

Back in the November election, Seldovia, a purple/albino skunk (who was currently in the couple’s bedroom!) and the incumbent Rikki, a colorful Indian giant squirrel, had both garnered 303 votes each. A longshot third candidate, a beaver, had gotten 36 votes.

Because the town charter (written by farmers two hundred years ago) hadn’t anticipated a tie, there was no tiebreaker in place. Rather than have a runoff, co-mayors had been declared.

This never would’ve happened in a bigger town or city, of course, but for a small backwater like Arcadia, well ...

Emerson’s blue eyes darted back and forth as he turned the page.

‘New Look Town Council!’

Charlie’s friend Akira, a short-clawed otter who owned the town’s only grocery, had been easily reelected to her spot. With the council president retiring and three of the five members now being first-timers, Akira had taken over the ‘head’ position, which meant she’d preside over monthly town hall meetings.

And the first meeting of the ‘co-mayor’ era was tonight.

Charlie, warming the twins mashed breakfast in the microwave as she poured their formula into bottles, told Emerson, “Save those articles! I wanna clip ‘em.”

“Cause they’re about Seldovia and Akira?”

“That, too! But look at the byline.”

Emerson furrowed his brow in confusion.

“It’s Geneva!”

The mouse had heard that name before. Hadn’t he?

“My favorite cousin!”

“Oh … right.”

“We grew up together in Ontario. She went to college in the States. Ended up staying here.”

“As a reporter, I take it?”

“Well, she wanted to be on TV news, but she’s, ha, ha, too punk to pull that off.”

“Punk?”

Not elaborating, Charlie just said, “When the ‘editor’ job at the Gazette came open, I let her know right away. And she got it! This is her first week. She’s staying with auntie and uncle until she finds her own place.” Charlie’s aunt and uncle owned the neighboring farm.

Emerson furrowed his brow. Had she told him about this already? Sometimes, he tuned the squirrel out.

In a singsong tone, Charlie added, “She wants to meet you!”

Before Emerson (wondering if he should be concerned) could reply, there was a sound in the doorway. Foot-paws shuffling on the hardwood floor.

“Mornin’, Queenie!” Charlie said brightly.

Seldovia, stifling a yawn, nodded back at her nickname (which was also the name of her diner on Main Street). Like the other two, she was pant-less, though she’d thrown on one of Emerson’s t-shirts (the one he’d taken off before getting into bed last night).

“Tea?” the skunk mumbled, knowing that the rodents didn’t drink coffee (they claimed it made them too twitchy).

“I got your hot water ready! You want ginger or lemon?”

“Ginger.”

Charlie dropped a teabag into a mug and poured steaming water into it. “Now, just sit down, mayor … or is it mayoress?” The squirrel cocked her head.

“Only in Britain,” Seldovia said, plonking into the seat next to Emerson.

“Mm, power and smarts! Hot!” Charlie declared, bringing the skunk her tea. “Now, what do you want to eat?”

“I’ll just have cereal.”

“You sure?” Charlie put her paws on the skunk’s shoulders, starting to massage them. “I can make you some eggs!”

“Thanks, sweetie, but you don’t need to mother me. I can hear the twins calling.”

The fox squirrel produced a bowl, spoon, a box of cereal, and a carton of oat milk for the skunk. Then she grabbed the twins’ meal. Juggling it all, she left the kitchen, calling back, “Don’t get up to any mischief while I’m gone! Wait ‘til I get back!”

“We’ll try to control ourselves,” Emerson said evenly, nibbling on his toast. Crumbs tumbled off his whiskers.

Blowing and sipping on her tea, Seldovia wondered, “Were we ever that energetic, Emmy? Ten years ago?”

“No, I think it’s just squirrels,” the mouse decided.

The skunk giggled.

She and Emerson had gone to high school together and had been friends their whole lives. More than that, they’d had some sexual ‘dalliances.’

And now that Charlie was here?

The mischievous squirrel, upon finding out, had pulled them back together (along with her) for regular ‘threesomes.’

Seldovia blew on her tea and lowered her head, rubbing it with a paw.

“You alright?” Emerson asked softly.

“Just wondering how tonight’s gonna go.” It was the first town council meeting of her tenure.

“Probably same as usual. It’ll start out orderly and practical and then suddenly veer off the rails.” Almost always due to quirky inquiries from the attending townsfolk, who could never stay on topic.

Seldovia nodded, allowing for that. “I meant with Rikki.”

“Oh. You think he’s gonna challenge your authority?” Emerson asked.

“I don’t know.” She carefully sipped her tea. “But we’ve never gotten along swimmingly. And the thing we’re unveiling tonight was my idea.”

“The, uh … the ‘sister city’ thing?” She’d mentioned it last night.

“Mmhmm.”

Seldovia had come up with the notion of finding an international town to be Acardia’s official ‘sister city.’

Emerson nibbled is toast and asked, “What’s the benefit of that, again?”

“I’ll explain it at the meeting! You’ll be there, won’t you?”

The mouse nodded. “Charlie’s treating it like a sporting event. I half expect she’ll bring a flag with your name on it. If you hear cheering after you speak, you’ll know where it came from.”

“Heh. Well … I’m only a co-mayor. I’ll have to delegate time to Rikki.” She paused and admitted, “But it’s not in my nature to defer.”

Seldovia and Rikki owned rival businesses in town. Her the diner and him the pizza place. They both had dominant personalities, using their charms to win over rooms (and voters).

“Might have to spray him with your pheromones,” Emerson said.

Seldovia poked at her breakfast with her spoon. “Unfortunately, those only have a temporary effect.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” the mouse answered, giving her a look.

Seldovia, eating her cereal, looked back with her pretty, plum-colored eyes and grinned, her purple-and-white tail arching. She swallowed, licked her lips, and purred, “Need a reminder, hmm?”

“Well … ”

A panting Charlie bounded back into the kitchen. Still naked, breasts bouncing. “I’m back! Ah, hah.” She steadied her breath, eyes darting back and forth between the other two. “What did I miss?!”

“Don’t worry, Charlie,” the skunk said sultrily. “You’re just in time.”

After breakfast and a (very good) threesome, Emerson stepped out of the shower and dried off.

Charlie had showered with Seldovia before him (the shower wasn’t big enough for three!) and was playing with the twins in the living room. The TV was on, sound down. Some colorful kiddie program.

A towel cinched around his trim, golden hips, Emerson peeked into the room. “Did she leave already?”

“Yup.”

“Oh. I was, uh, gonna say goodbye … ”

“Don’t worry! I did it for you. And I threw in a lot of tongue!”

“You’re the best,” Emerson said evenly.

“I know!”

The skunk had to start getting lunch ready at the diner. Weekday hours were 11:30 AM to 6 PM. (The town hall was scheduled for 7:30.)

Emerson fully entered the room, sniffing the air. The skunk lingered. He grabbed a spray can of air freshener. ‘Cranberry crumble.’ He spritzed it about. “Her pheromones are so strong.”

“Better than being high!” Charlie agreed.

“I guess?” He fiddled with his towel. “I wouldn’t know about that … ”

“You’re such a goody-good, Emmy. Ha, ha.” She flashed him a bucktoothed look. “Makes it hotter when I can get you to be bad.”

“Mommy doesn’t know what she’s talking about, kids,” Emerson told Azalea and EJ. He was blushing, though. He scurried to the bedroom to get dressed.

When he returned, he blinked.

Who was—

What the—

“Oh, there he is!” Charlie exclaimed, gesturing to a spotted, pixie-eared feline. “Emmy! Say hello to Geneva!”

Emerson needed a moment.

He squinted.

First, because while Charlie had mentioned inviting Geneva over, he’d figured she’d meant some other day. Not right now!

And, two …

“She’s … not a squirrel?” the mouse said before he could stop himself.

“Nah. She’s from an inter-species family, like ours! Her mom is my aunt. Not the one next door but another one. I have a big family!”

“I know,” Emerson replied. It was one of the reasons Charlie wanted a large family with him. It’s what she’d grown up with.

“Mother’s a fox squirrel. My father’s a lynx,” Geneva explained, her voice a bit on the husky side.

“A Canadian lynx,” Charlie added proudly.

“Wow, um … that’s unexpected,” Emerson said.

“But it makes for good conversation,” Geneva purred, staring him down.

Emerson swallowed.

Surely, Charlie knew that cats and mice had an instinctual … well. History? Tension? Between them. Had she warned—er, told him—Geneva was a feline? He was pretty sure he would’ve remembered something like that!

Charlie probably didn’t think it was a big deal. She was perpetually unbothered.

Not that Emerson was bothered!

He was open-minded.

He didn’t have anything against predators.

Just …

The lynx’s stared him down like unblinking yellow-gold lasers. Er, eyes. Her triangular, tufted ears cocked this way and that. The ‘tufts’ at the end accentuating her aggressiveness, somehow.

Her winter pelt was even thicker than Charlie’s.

A mix of green and sea foam-y colors, with dark chocolate spots as an overlay. (Reminding Emerson of mint chocolate chip ice cream.) Her paws were glove-like, and there were extended fluffs of fur (mutton chops) jutting from both her cheeks.

Her tail was a nubby, little thing that occasionally wagged or hiked.

Charlie giggled. “Heh, he’s tongue-tied, Jen. That means he likes you!”

“Those pics you sent me didn’t do him justice, Charlie.”

“It’s my phone’s camera. It’s pretty lame! I can’t trade it in ‘til summer, though. What kind do you have?”

While the girls talked about their phones, Emerson pulled baby Azalea off Geneva’s leg, then intercepted EJ before he could do the same. The babes were fascinated with the feline.

“I’m gonna put the twins in their cribs,” Emerson decided.

“I’ll do it!” Charlie said, grabbing them from the mouse.

“Oh. If you’re sure.”

“You should get to know Jen! She’s really great.”

“I’m sure … ”

“I’ll try not to eat him while you’re gone,” Geneva said.

“Ha, ha! Isn’t she hilarious?” Charlie asked, carrying the wriggling kits out of the room.

“Yeah. A regular laugh riot,” Emerson mumbled, taking a few deep breaths.

Silence.

He started to wriggle.

The wildcat, clued to this, sauntered a little closer. “Charlie’s told me about you.”

“Oh?” He swallowed. “What did she say, exactly?”

“That you’re good in bed.”

The mouse blinked.

“And that you’re open to threesomes.”

His whiskers twitched. Oh, boy. He wasn’t naïve! He now saw where this was going. Taking a step back, ropy tail wavering, he observed, “You’re awfully blunt.”

A shrug. “Us lynxes are … roguish? Mavericks,” Geneva decided.

“I thought that was jaguars.”

“They wish.” She began to walk in a slow circle around the mouse. Her impossibly fluffy foot-paws made little to no sound. “Lynxes tell it like it is. That’s what makes me a good reporter. I don’t couch the truth.”

“Why would you want to run a small-town newspaper?”

“I don’t like crowds. Or people constantly questioning my authority. Too much of both in the city.” Geneva paused and sniffed the air. “I smell … cranberry? And skunk.”

“Well, we … we had a friend over.”

“For breakfast?” Geneva stopped and crossed her arms. She grinned, showing her fangs. “Kind of early.”

“She, um … ” Emerson looked around as if to deflect the reality of the situation. He rubbed at his neck, muttering, “Kind of spent the night.”

Geneva let him squirm.

“Seldovia—the skunk—is my, um … well, you see, before Charlie arrived, she was the last one I’d been intimate with.”

“So, she’s your ex?”

“I don’t think we were ever ‘going out’ … ”

“Mmm.” The lynx flashed her glistening fangs. “Threesomes with your ex, huh? Charlie’s a gem. How often does it happen?”

“Couple times a month.”

“Nice. Always knew male mice were kinky. It’s those big balls, isn’t it?”

“Is it?” He cleared his throat. “No. No, maybe more that, um, Charlie is kinky? And drags me into things.” A certain nod. Yes. That was it.

“You’re being too modest.” A pause. “Wanna know a secret?”

“I’m not sure … ”

“I’m kinkier than Charlie.” A silky purr. “Would you believe that?”’

Emerson made a ‘hmm’ face.

Charlie liked to have group sex. She frequently called Emerson ‘daddy’ and when she was lactating had goaded him into drinking from her tits.

For a start.

How could Geneva be kinkier than that?

“Maybe you should rephrase the question,” the mouse decided.

“Or maaaybe you need to be shown instead of told,” the lynx said, shuffling closer. “She told me you were stubborn.”

“Huh?”

“Charlie said it’d be okay,” the cat said simply.

“What would?”

“I’m looking for some prey of my own. Someone to dominate,” Geneva said casually, unsheathing and inspecting her sharp, white claws. “Someone local, obviously. One of your cousins? She says you have a lot of them.”

Emerson nodded.

“But I don’t want to scare them off. Especially in a place this small, rumors spread, reputations … can be hard to reverse.” A scowl, as if there were more to that. “I’d like to get a bull’s-eye on my first shot.”

“Don’t you mean ‘hole in one’?”

Geneva grinned. “She didn’t tell me you were witty, too.”

“Only spontaneously.”

“We don’t have harvest mice in Canada. Just, uh … regular mice. Or whatever.” The feline gave the butterscotch mouse a hungry look over. “I like your fur color. Very rich. Very pretty.”

“Thanks. Um … you, too?”

“I’ve been told I’m a treat,” the wildcat said, feigning a curtsy. “But! She said I could take you for a test run. If it goes well, she’ll introduce me to one of your cousins at the town hall tonight. I’ll be there covering it for the paper.”

“Charlie’s a regular Cupid … ”

The squirrel had successfully set up Persis (the painted bat) with a burly beaver named Braxton and, ever since, had declared herself a ‘bringer of love.’

‘No, wait, wait … a bringer of boinking!’ she’d corrected, holding up a finger as if it were a ‘Eureka!’ moment.

To which Emerson had shaken his head.

“You’re tensing up,” Geneva observed.

“Am I?”

“She really didn’t tell you about any of this?”

“She, uh, forgets the small details when she gets excited,” he explained. Which was all the time.

“But you’ll do it?”

The mouse sighed. “I mean, if she … if, uh … ” Why bother denying it? He ended up doing everything she wanted. She had a way of bowling him over with her enthusiasm, making it seem like every idea was a good one. “Doesn’t mean I can’t be nervous.”

“You haven’t spent much time around cats, have you?”

“Not as a rule, no.”

“Well, you don’t have to be nervous. Just give in. Accept your place. Let it happen. Have fun.” Continuing to circle him, the lynx murmured, “You’re like a neon sign right now. I can hear every twitch, every grinding of your buckteeth. From a mile away. Your heartbeat, even. It presses all my buttons.” A huff. “I’m getting wet just standing here.”

Emerson looked around for Charlie. Why was she taking so long?! Was she hanging back on purpose, letting them stew out here? That’s definitely what she was doing.

“We won’t start without her, mousey,” Geneva promised, noticing his unease. “She’ll be joining us.”

“Together? But you’re cousins … ”

“Told you I was kinky. Besides you won’t see what we’re doing. One of us will be riding your face.”

Later that evening, hours after sunset with the twins being watched by Charlie’s aunt and uncle, the mouse and squirrel drove into town in their pickup truck.

Charlie, who had recently gotten her American driver’s license, was behind the wheel.

“You seem tired, Emmy.”

He rubbed his eyes in acknowledgement. “I mean … I had unplanned sex with three girls in the span of an hour this morning, and I’m pushing forty,” the mouse said. “It’s been a long day.”

“You had sex with me twice, remember!” Charlie said, having been a part of both threesomes. “I should count as double.”

“Believe me, you’re triple a normal person.”

“Aww! That’s so sweet.”

Emerson closed his eyes. He yawned widely, buckteeth jutting.

“Hah!” The fox squirrel started giggling as she slowed the truck to match the ‘town limits’ speed limit. “And you say you’re not a kinkster.”

“I’m not,” he insisted, eyes reopening. He never would’ve done any of this without Charlie’s influence.

“Well, your dick is!”

The harvest mouse made a face but offered no verbal counter. Just went, “Mm.”

“You were good, though!”

He looked over at her. “Yeah?”

“Yup! Like, I was seeing stars.”

“Really?” He smiled.

“Shooting ones! And Jen? You got her hooked on mice so bad. Ha, she told me you were ‘pounce worthy’.”

“Pounce worthy? Me?” Emerson blushed, sitting up straighter. Feeling not so old after all.

“I’m totally setting her up with one of your cousins tonight! One of the really shy ones. She wants someone subbier than you,” Charlie said.

“You were riding my muzzle and she was riding my hips. How much subbier does she need?”

“You’re too versatile, Emmy! You got a streak in you. A twinkle in your eye.”

“Twinkle?”

“Yeah, like you could become my ‘daddy’ at any time! Or like you could fuck me on your tractor. Or like—”

“Alright, alright … ” His dishy ears blushed.

The squirrel turned off the truck’s high beams, switching to low as they reached the half-mile long Main Street. “They’ll be there, won’t they? Your relatives?”

“Some of them. I don’t know which ones.” He shrugged. He hadn’t exactly coordinated this with them. “But it won’t be easy. I rolled with Jen’s punches because you were there to back me up. She corners one of my cousins with no warning? A strange, aggressive feline? Who knows how they’ll react.”

“She’s a reporter, though! She can introduce herself that way. Get their innocent impressions on the town’s new direction. And then slip in, ‘Oh, by the way, I want to sink my fangs into your neck’!”

“I’d advise she doesn’t say that … ”

“Well, you know what I mean,” Charlie said, pulling into the alley between the town hall and the hardware store. Behind the building was a parking lot, and she found a space and eased the truck into it.

A few spots over, Persis and Braxton (owner of the farm supply store; Turf ‘’n Tractor, with the dynamite deals!) were getting out of Braxton’s truck.

“Hey, Persis!” Charlie called to her friend, bounding out of the driver’s side door and waving her paws and tail.

“Hey, Charlie,” the introverted ‘painted’ bat replied, her vibrant, orange-and-black wing-arms hidden under a flowy, robe-like coat. She also had a scarf around her tangerine-furred neck.

“Gosh, you look super stylin’. Like out of a fashion magazine!”

“Just typical cold weather bat garb,” the bat said modestly. “It’s a pain trying to keep wings warm in this weather.”

Emerson, a bright blue tail sock covering his ropy, prehensile appendage, nodded and added, “Almost had to break out the ear-mittens. It’s supposed to get even colder.”

Charlie clasped her paws together. “Ear mittens! Isn’t he cute?”

Persis nodded politely. Though, personally, she tended to go for more masculine, rugged types (like Rikki and Braxton).

Braxton, taller than any of them, made a chucking noise and slapped his thick paddle tail on the ground, corralling them toward the building. “We can chat inside, folks! Lessgo!”

The girls shuffled forward.

Persis chittered.

Emerson squeaked.

“Ohmygosh. You’ve gotta sit by me. I need to introduce you to my cousin!” Charlie told Persis.

The town hall auditorium, which could seat about a hundred, was half full.

Rikki and Seldovia were both introduced as ‘co-mayors’ (Seldovia giving a two-minute speech and Rikki running nearly ten) and, before ceding the floor to mundane town council business, proceeded to introduce their exciting new ‘Sister City’ initiative.

“The benefits,” Seldovia assured, “could be quite substantial. And at zero cost!”

Rikki, unable to cede the spotlight, took over and said, “Economic benefits! Like trade opportunities. Tourism.”

Someone in the crowd groused, “Who’d wanna visit here?”

“Plenty of people!” the tall, rainbow-colored squirrel defended. “I wasn’t born here. Many of us weren’t.”

The squirrel locked gazes with Persis, his ex-campaign manager and lover. She ran the lobby at the post office. They hadn’t officially ‘ended’ their … association.

Was she exclusive with that beaver?

Rikki’s eyes kept moving.

Not that he’d been left wanting!

“Our fire chief, Aria!” he said, gesturing with a paw, introducing his current/most recent lover. Or maybe ‘breeding buddy’ was more apt? An aloof, buxom snow bunny, Aria had a towering libido. “Came all the way from Alaska to be a part of our vibrant, little town. Didn’t you, dear?”

Aria, always a little aloof, looked around and said, “This is accurate.”

Rikki was hoping she’d offer more of an endorsement. He nodded at the rabbit, raising his brows in encouragement.

She took a breath and added, “It is a nice change of pace from four hours of sunlight a day. Or, in summer, twenty hours.”

“Ha! Wow, see! Arcadia has so much to offer. And, of course, just a general increase in exposure … it’ll put us on the map! Not that we’re not already on it. But we’ll be in bolder print, now!”

Seldovia gave Rikki a grateful nod when he (eventually) sat back down. She might butt heads with the squirrel sometimes, but he was undeniably good at selling things. She was happy he was being a team player tonight.

Akira, taking the podium, opened up the meeting to questions from the floor on the issue.

A female beaver raised a dark paw.

“Yes, Brigida,” the red velvet otter said.

Brigida stood and asked, “You never said what our Sister City would be. I have a recommendation. Milwaukee.”

“Um … well.” Akira glanced back at Seldovia.

The skunk rose from her chair and said, “Typically, Sister Cities are from foreign countries.”

“Why?”

“That’s the tradition.”

“Why?”

“It just is?”

“Oh.” The beaver’s buckteeth jutted prominently. “What about Duluth?”

“That still wouldn’t count,” Seldovia said with a patient smile.

“Right!” Akira echoed, rudder tail steering behind her. “So, uh. Well, thank you, Brigida. Now, do we have any other questions?”

Charlie waved enthusiastically at the otter.

“Yes, Charlie?”

“Hi!”

“Hi. Did you have a question?”

“No, I just wanted to say hello! How you doing?”

“Well. Same as when you called me this afternoon.”

“We gotta get together soon!”

“Um, okay, yeah, uh … yes, you.” The otter looked to a scruffy rat. “Tobin, is it?” She recognized him as a regular customer at the grocery store.

“Yessir, ma’am,” the rat in a lazy, rural drawl.

There was a long pause.

Akira prodded, “Your question?”

“I got three sisters already! They’re always pickin’ on me. What if we don’t want no Sister City?”

“Well, that’s why we’re having a town hall about—”

“What if we want a Brother City, instead?” the rat asked. He looked around the room and made a ‘raise the roof’ gesture with his paws. “Yeah! Brothers unite! Bros, bros, bros!”

Akira gritted her fangs and looked to Seldovia to handle this.

Seldovia, in turn, deferred to Rikki. “This feels like a male question.”

The giant squirrel rolled his eyes but got back up anyway, putting on that trademarked big, winning smile and saying, “I hear what you’re saying, but … ” Not really having a good response, he said, “All the Brother Cities are taken, I’m afraid! Darn it.”

“Even the ones in China?” Tobin asked.

“They’re just so popular!”

The rat grumbled and sat down.

“Now, to answer the original question,” Rikki said, once again maintaining the spotlight for himself, “We’ve narrowed it down to India and Japan. Seldovia and I have sent out feelers.” Rikki had been e-mailing a very fetching red panda about establishing ‘relations.’ He was trying to get her to come over for a ‘diplomatic tour.’ Seldovia, upon hearing this, had warned the squirrel it better not be on Arcadia’s dime. “We’re just waiting to finalize.”

“What about Canada!” Charlie shouted. “We got some good ones. There’s Bala, the Cranberry Capital of Ontario. And, ooh, what about Niagara Falls!”

Someone a few rows behind insisted belligerently, “Niagara Falls is American! They have that other one. The horsehead one.”

“Horseshoe,” Geneva corrected, recording this whole meeting on her phone. “It’s the much better falls. The jewel of the Niagara.”

Aria piped in with, “There are technically two ‘Niagara Falls.’ One on either side of the border. They are twin cities.”

“Twins?”

“Twin sisters or bothers?” Tobin the rat wanted to know.

A voice decreed, “If Sister Cities can be twins, why not triplets? Or quintuplets!”

“Octuplets!”

“What about Decatur?” Brigida asked.

“There’s two Decaturs, too! Indiana and Illinois.”

“Illinois? More like Illi-noise,” someone mocked.

“Will there be a ‘Sister City’ sign? How big will it be? Will it be green?”

The crowd began to speak all at once.

Seldovia and Rikki exchanged looks with each other.

Akira banged a gavel to restore order.

When the meeting was over, the crowd lingered and chatted in the foyer at the front of the hall, enjoying refreshments (the real reason most of them had come). A lot of leftover pies. (‘Courtesy of ‘Queenie’s’! Arcadia’s ‘Down Home’ Diner!)

Geneva had gotten plenty of soundbites for the paper, which she’d sift through tomorrow for printing tomorrow night. Right now? The lynx had other priorities.

“What’s his deal?” Geneva asked Charlie.

“Who?”

“That gold one. He’s Emerson’s, right?”

“Oh! Colfax? Yup, cousin on his … father’s side? I think. Emmy’s parents aren’t around anymore. He’s nice, though! He’s a farmer, too.”

“Guess some folks have to be,” Geneva allowed.

“Don’t knock it! We’re not all hayseeds.”

“I didn’t say you were. I just … how do you have a conversation with a farmer? What’s he got to talk about?”

“Same as anyone. Life is more than work.”

“Hmm.” The lynx narrowed her golden eyes. “Fine. Tell me more.”

“Well, um … like I said, he’s nice. And sweet and cute and—"

“Those are all the same thing.”

“Not true!” Charlie said, holding up a finger. “Sweet is personality. Cute is about looks. And nice is … well, nice!”

The lynx, accepting this, quirked a brow. “Is he single?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?” she asked suspiciously.

“He just is! Doesn’t mean anything’s wrong with him. You’re single. Is anything wrong with you?”

The feline gave the rodent a droll look, not answering that. Only, “How old is he?”

“A few years younger than Emmy but older than me,” the fox squirrel said. “I think, like … I don’t know. Thirty-four?”

“Mm.” The lynx had just turned twenty-nine, herself. A year ahead of Charlie. “He looks delicate.”

“Mice do be like that! Which reminds me. I have Emmy’s tailsock stuffed in my coat pocket. He’s always worried about getting frostbite.” Not only was it still single digit temperatures outside, but snow was in the forecast.

“I don’t want to break him,” Geneva continued, of Colfax. Captivated by his little twitches and sniffs. Felines were captivated by motion, and mice couldn’t keep still. “Could he handle a lynx?”

“You didn’t break Emmy.”

“He’s been well-trained,” the feline insisted.

“Hah. Trained? By me? We’re equals. He’s just very obliging.”

“Well, I’m not looking for an equal here,” the predator said.

“Oh, right! Your bloodlust.”

“I’m not out for blood.” Geneva took a deep breath and replied, in a husky tone, “I just have a thirst for mice … that’s beyond instinct. It’s an actual hunger. A shivering need. I’ve been ignoring it for too long. I’m going to satisfy it … or else.”

“Hot!”

“And I need you, too,” Geneva said, more softly.

“Double hot!”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” The lynx rolled her golden eyes. “You’re a social glue gun. Apply you to any situation, and you hold it together.” A pause. “It’s why I came to you when I needed a job. And why I came to you about this. I knew you’d help me.”

“Aw!” The squirrel gave the lynx a big, tail-whisking hug, closing her eyes and going, “Mmmm!”

Geneva pushed her away with a slight flush. “I’m on the job, Charlie,” she mumbled.

“You gonna put this in the article, then? Ha, ha. ‘Super Sexy Squirrel Helps Ace Reporter Get Laid Twice in One Day’!”

“That’s twelve words. Headlines should be six or less,” Geneva said.

“Hmm. ‘Squirrel Helps Stuff Pussy’s Pussy Twice’!”

The lynx gave Charlie a look, which morphed into a slow, toothy grin.

Charlie giggled.

Geneva, expression reverting to neutral, stared at Colfax again. “Why’s he hanging out in the town hall lobby by himself? Why’d he even come?” A frown. “He looks uncomfortable.”

“Probably came for the free grub?” Charlie answered, grabbing a plate from the nearby refreshment table and immediately shoveling her mouth full of gooey, caramelized chunks of pecan pie. “Emmy used to be like that.”

“A pie-monster?”

“Ha, ha! No. Super shy. We met at a cookout! Mmf. Yup! Like, all … mmf … he was all self-conscious and stuff?” She clinked her fork against her buckteeth. “But not anymore.”

“I suppose you rubbed off on him, huh?” the lynx asked dryly, noticing the squirrel’s empty plate. Good Lord. She’d already inhaled the whole piece!

“Yup! Heh! I mean … you gotta nudge him, still, but he’ll eventually go with the flow. Ha, like this morning! You know what I mean?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I forgot how deep your roars could get!” Charlie said.

“What can I say? I’m a grade-A wildcat.”

“Self-conscious, though,” Charlie continued, circling back, “is when you second-guess yourself. Like, you can’t get outside yourself no matter what? Emmy’s not like that anymore. He’d still a little shy, yeah, but he’s not shy-shy_._ If you know what I mean?”

“I hardly ever do.”

“He’s a daddy, now,” the squirrel said, licking her lips and eying her mate.

Emerson, who was squeaking with his friend Roanoke (Akira’s mate, a piebald mouse and the town banker), noticed Charlie and winked.

“Huff!” went the squirrel, elbowing Geneva. “Did you see that?! He winked at me. Ohmygosh! He must be feeling his oats.”

“Yeah, yeah, front-page news,” the reporter mumbled distractedly. Her angular, tufted ears flicked.

Charlie, debating on getting more pie, put her empty plate down and called out Geneva’s hesitation. “Just introduce yourself already! Seems like you’re the one who’s getting self-conscious.”

“That’s ridiculous. I’m an apex predator.”

An apex predator a month removed from losing both her big city job and her vulpine boyfriend.

But so what?

The job had been hectic and stressful. She’d rarely been able to leave the office and had no control over what stories to cover or how to feature them.

And the fox?

Handsome as hell, admittedly. And great in bed. (That knot!) But they’d both been equally forceful. At first, they’d managed to convert that into a playful sort of sparring.

But, eventually, the thirst for dominance spilled out of the bedroom and seeped into the rest of their personal lives.

It’d gotten to where they couldn’t even agree on a movie to watch or what food to eat.

Always an argument.

Always a headache.

It was all for the best.

The lynx had a fresh start in Arcadia. A new, low-pressure job, a built-in friend in her cousin Charlie, and plenty of submissive prey critters to satisfy her dominant side.

“You need me to go with you? To introduce you?”

“Hmm?” Geneva blinked. “No!”

“But you said I was your crazy glue!”

“Glue gun.”

“What’s the difference?” Charlie said, making ‘pistol paws’ and mouthing ‘pow-pow!’

“Hot glue is flexible. There’s wiggling room.” Geneva’s short, bob-like tail hiked up a bit. “And it’s super glue, not crazy glue. Even if you are crazy.”

“Well, what’s so super about it?”

“It’s permanent.”

“Just like us! We’re stuck at the hip. Or the lips, heh!” Charlie said, of their activities this morning. The squirrel had ridden Emerson’s muzzle while Geneva had ridden his hips. And they’d made out above him.

“Say that a little louder. I don’t think the far side of the room heard you.”

“I think you’re afraid of being rejected. Another reason you need me! I have no shame,” Charlie bragged.

“That’s a well-known sign of a psychopath.”

“Ha, ha! Come one,” Charlie said, putting her plate down and grabbing Geneva’s paw. She tugged the feline toward Colfax.

Geneva lurched but didn’t put up a fight.

The harvest mouse, seeing them coming, swallowed a bite of pie, blue eyes widening. “H-hi … hi, Charlie,” he stammered.

“Hey, Cole! Emmy says hello.”

“Oh, um, okay. Hello to him, too.”

“And this is my cousin Geneva! She’s the new editor of the town paper.”

Colfax blinked at the lynx. A cat related to a squirrel? How did … what? “Your cousin?” he asked, reacting much as Emerson initially had.

“It’s a long story!” Charlie said. “Well, actually, it’s not, but I need more pie! Have fun, you two!”

With that, the squirrel bounded off, leaving the cat and mouse alone.

Colfax bit his lower lip with his buckteeth, whiskers twitching. Tongue-tied.

He’d been aware of the feline’s presence all evening. He wouldn’t be much of a mouse if he hadn’t! But he hadn’t known she worked for the paper. Or that she was related to Charlie. And he certainly hadn’t expected to speak to her.

Geneva, remaining stoically silent, cut a fierce, fluffy figure.

Lynxes were ‘leggy,’ and the mouse couldn’t keep his eyes from darting down her body. Powerful limbs. ‘Snowshoe’ foot-paws. He almost couldn’t make out her toes, her pelt was so—

“It’s part of my ‘winter collection,’ she joked, of her winter coat. She shook a foot-paw at him, balancing expertly on one leg. “Like it?”

“It’s … it looks very warm.”

“Mmhmm.” Geneva, who stood a head taller, sniffed at him. Both legs on the ground, she pointed with an unsheathed claw. “So. What kind of pie are you having there?”

Colfax’s eyes widen. “Mm? Oh.” He held up his plate. “Cream pie.”

“Really, now?” the feline purred.

“Sugar cream! Sugar … um, yeah,” he corrected with an emphatic nod. That didn’t sound so … well. You know.

“Never had it. But,” she drawled, “cats aren’t averse to cream.”

“It’s our state pie. It’s, like, um … ” Colfax blew out a breath, trying to decide how to describe it. “It’s like spiced vanilla custard on a buttery, flaky crust?” He took another bite and sighed through his twitchy nose. Chew, chew, swallow. “Seldovia makes a good one. Though she’s, uh … she’s actually more famous for her cherry.”

“Yes, she had half the audience’s cherries pulling up, tonight,” Geneva noted slyly. The skunk was attractive, no doubt. But she also possessed uniquely powerful pheromones. Particularly effective on the males. “What about you?”

“Hmm?” the mouse went, whiskers twitching.

“Do you fancy our new ‘co-mayor’?”

“She’s … I mean, she’s pretty? Of course. And she’s nice to me.” He qualified this with, “I guess she’s nice to everyone.”

“Did you know she’s ‘nice’ to your cousin and Charlie?”

The mouse nodded, clearing his throat. “I’ve heard about their, um, special arrangement. Yeah.” Everyone in town had. It was almost common knowledge at this point. Charlie couldn’t keep a secret to save her life. But he was happy for them. Why be jealous? “I don’t really know her too well. Certainly not as well as that!”

“It’s okay.” The cat showed her paw-pads. “I wasn’t judging you either way. I was just … curious. A famous feline trait.”

Colfax blushed.

Curious?

About him?

Why?

There were more interesting people in the room, surely.

Starting to squirm, Colfax asked, “You’re really related to Charlie?”

“Yup. One of her mom’s sisters is my mom. She mated a lynx, and … well, here I am.” She spread her minty-green arms. “We grew up together. Back in Ontario.”

“She’s … she’s quite a character. Charlie. I never thought Emerson would … and then have two! … well, she’s friendly. They’re so good together.”

“Mmhmm.”

Blue eyes darting about, the harvest mouse said, “I read the paper, your paper, um … the Gazette? Every edition. I do the crossword puzzle. And I like the Farm Humor column. Heh. Last week’s … Joy’s and Pains of Winter DIY. Heh. I, uh … I related to that.”

“It’s a holdover from the last editor.” The feline swayed a bit. “I’ve been debating getting rid of it.”

“Oh.” A nod. “Well. I understand.”

“I don’t have to,” she quickly amended, seeing the look on his face. “I mean … suppose if the locals like it, it’s good for circulation?”

“I suppose … ”

“You’ve swayed me. I’ll keep it.”

Colfax blushed.

Geneva shifted her weight from one hip to the other.

The mouse squeaked.

Her gaze was so piercing!

“What?” he finally asked.

“Why are you here? I mean, I know why I’m here. It’s part of my job. Charlie and Emerson are here to support their bedfellow. But you didn’t say anything during the meeting. So, why come?”

“It’s been below freezing for three weeks straight, and … well, winter is the off-season for farmwork, you know? Can go a bit stir-crazy if you’re not careful.” He fiddled with his fork.” I try to keep busy in the house, but I had to get out. And—” A pause before admitting softly, “I get lonely.”

His whiskers twitched, as if embarrassed to admit that.

Geneva said softly, “Go on … ”

Colfax continued, “Being here in the crowd? Hearing about the town? Having my favorite pie? It makes me feel part of something. I don’t know. It’s nice?” His eyes darted to the floor and then back up to the lynx. “At least for a few hours.”

Geneva felt something stewing inside her. Not just the carnal desire. That was constant. But this mouse? He clearly needed protecting. And if there was anything a cat was good at? It was safeguarding their prey.

She wrestled with her urge to pounce him here and now.

“I should’ve offered you a bite of my pie,” Colfax said.

“Mm?”

“It was rude of me, going on about how great it was and, uh … not, uh … I have one bite left. Here.” He handed over his plate and fork. “Think of it as part of the job! Culinary, um … critiques.”

“Would be a short column. ‘It’s good!’ ‘I hated it.’ I lack the ability to be flowery. I either like something or I don’t,” she said, eying the final bite of sugar cream. Poking it with the fork.

Colfax watched her, whiskers twitching.

How innocent was this guy?

Did he know what was really going on here?

That she was sizing him up for sexual conquest?

He had to.

Right?

He seemed smart enough.

She wanted control, but she didn’t want a complete pushover. She required an active participant.

Mulling, Geneva ate the last bite of sugar cream pie.

Her eyes lit up in surprise.

“Wow, this is really good … mmh!”

It practically melted in her mouth. A mellow, creamy confection, with flavors of marshmallow, spices, burnt vanilla. Reminded her of crème brulee. She hadn’t had that since she’d visited Quebec as a teenager. The memories came rushing back.

The lynx licked her lips. “Seldovia made this? Really?”

“Yeah, she’s the best baker in town.”

“Huh. More than a pretty tail, after all. Maybe I’ll have to stop by her place for lunch, sometime.” A pause, adding, “Do you ever go there?”

The mouse bit his lower lip. Was she asking him on a date? “Um … sometimes, yes.”

Tongue licking all the tines on the fork, the lynx nodded. “Mmhmm. Well. Thanks for sharing.”

Colfax nodded, whiskers twitching, tail wavering.

Geneva’s nostrils flared.

Mmf.

She couldn’t stand it any longer.

You’re the predator, here.

_Be confident. _

Make your move!

“How ‘bout we get out of here?” the feline murmured lowly. “I’m beginning to feel … claustrophobic.”

The harvest mouse blinked. “You are?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Oh. W-where would, uh … ? Where would we even go?” He looked around, dishy ears swiveling. “I mean, it’s pretty late.”

“I gotta download my audio recordings off my phone to the computer in the Gazette office. You can see the printing press.”

“Gosh, really?” The mouse considered this. “I’ve never … never been there before. I’ve driven past it, but I’ve never been inside.”

“Great! I’ll give you a … mmm, private tour,” Geneva offered. The newspaper building was further down Main Street. Not even a quarter mile from here. “We’ll walk.”

“But—"

The lynx put a thick-furred paw on his arm, lowering her voice even more. To a husky whisper. “It’ll be okay, yeah? We can leave our cars here. We’ll come back for them when we’re done. It won’t take more than … twenty, thirty minutes.”

Yeah. That should be more than enough time.

She rubbed his arm, now, staring to purr.

He didn’t pull back.

That’s it.

Now, go for his ears.

_Careful! _

“Come on, Cole … can I call you Cole?” the feline breathed into his left lobe with a low, throaty growl. She knew mice had erogenous ears.

Colfax shivered and squeaked, “O-okay.”

“Good boy,” Geneva said, body pulsing with a feral thrill. She resisted the urge to bat at his ropy tail, instead sinking her claws into his denim-clad ass. “Now, let’s get your coat and tail-sock, mm?” She didn’t need any additional garb, herself. Her winter fur was so thick. “We’ll go out the back way.”

“Did Geneva leave with one my cousins? Colfax?” Emerson asked afterward, in the truck on the way home.

It had started to snow. Big, fluffy flakes, drifting lazily through the dark. In the headlights, they looked like warp speed stars.

“Yup! They made a ‘discreet’ exit,” Charlie replied, behind the wheel again. They had to pick up the twins from her aunt and uncle’s farm before they could head back to theirs. “Ha, cats think they’re so subtle. Like, masters of smooth, you know? Psh. I can read her like a book. Getting her claws in that ass.”

“Never seen you reading a book.”

“Comics count!”

“Mighty Mouse over Squirrel Girl any day,” he declared.

“Ha, ha, you’re so funny, Emmy,” Charlie said. “It would never happen, first of all cause Secret Squirrel is spying on Mighty Mouse for Squirrel Girl.”

“Since when?”

“Since always! But it’s a secret, so no one knows.”

“Then how do you know?”

“Cause I’m a squirrel!”

Emerson rubbed his head at the logic involved in this.

“Anyway! She knows his moves ahead of time! Game over.”

Emerson looked out the window, deciding to let his mate take the W. “How’d you think Seldovia did?”

“This morning or tonight?”

Emerson shot Charlie an exasperated look, emphasizing, “Tonight.”

“She was awesome! And so was Akira. They’re the kickass leaders of the town, and I’m their best friend!”

“Mm.” Looking straight out the windshield, the mouse said, “I feel like you’re everybody’s best friend.” Seldovia, Akira, Persis, and now Geneva.

“Am I?”

“Seems like it.”

“You sound jealous,” the squirrel said.

“I’m not jealous.” His pause indicated that maybe he was. A little. “It’s just … so easy for you.” They’d talked about this before, hadn’t they? Yes. He remembered they had. So, why was it still bothering him?

“Aw. You’re too hard on yourself! Everyone likes you.”

Emerson blushed.

Charlie continued proudly, “You’ve come a long way since we met.”

“You think?”

“Deffo! I was talking to Jen about it.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hmm!”

There was a pause.

“And?” the mouse prodded.

“Mm?”

“You said you two were talking about me. What did you say, exactly?”

“I don’t kiss and tell!” the squirrel proclaimed.

Emerson scoffed. “Yeah, you do. All the time.” He squinted. “And you were literally kissing her! I could hear it while you were riding my face.”

“She’s my favorite cousin!”

“I can see why … ”

“Heh. What’s that mean? Did she feel good? Should I tell her that?”

“No!” He paused to clarify, “No, don’t tell her. Yes, she felt good.”

“Ooh. Emmy and Jen, sitting in a—”

Emerson laughed. “Stop it!”

Charlie giggled.

Emerson swiped at his whiskers and said, more seriously, “But Colfax doesn’t need to hear about any of this, okay? That Geneva used me as practice to pounce him?”

“You think he’d be upset?”

“I have more than him already. A bigger farm. A mate. A family.” He paused. Saying that out loud, it made his insecurities seem a bit silly. “I don’t want him to get the idea that I’m his competition.”

“Aw. So considerate! He won’t find out from me,” Charlie promised, crossing her heart.

“Thanks.”

They approached the road they lived on, a gravel road. Charle slowed, flipped on the turn signal, and made the turn.

“Hey, Emmy,” she said after a moment.

“Hey, what.”

“You still tired. Or you got a second wind in you?”

“Why?”

“Oh, no reason!” She swished her tail over to him. “Only, you winked at me earlier.”

“I guess so.”

“You guess? It was a big-ass horny wink!”

“It was … I don’t know. Playful? I almost didn’t know I was doing it. It was ‘right back at ya’ kind of thing.”

“Well, back in Ontario, when guys wink at you like that, it’s tail-rising time,” Charlie warned.

“What?” He blinked.

“You seemed to be feeling it, is what I’m saying.”

“I know what you’re saying.”

“Well?”

Emerson idly fiddled with his tail-socked tail and said, “After a day full of skunks and cats, I suppose I should erotically re-acclimatize myself to rodent-kind.”

“Huh?” the squirrel responded, scrunching her face in confusion.

Emerson rephrased that more simply: “I’d like to get close to my squirrel.”

“Me?”

“Who else?”

“I don’t know,” she said in a singsong tone. “You’ve been getting around quite a lot lately!”

“Only cause you want me to! I think that’s one of your kinks. Sharing me with your friends. Then you can gossip about it.”

“Queenie was your friend before mine!”

“Well … okay, true. But you what I mean! I like her, but I love you.”

“Aw! I love you, too, mouse-o!”

“Good.”

“But I gotta say, it seemed like you were loving Jen a lot, too. You were all like ‘oh, yes, yes, don’t stop!’ Seems like you’re the real lewdster here!”

“I’m not a lewdster.” He rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I thought you said I was a kinkster?”

“When did I say that?”

“On the way to the town hall. Two hours ago.”

“Oh. Then you must be both!”

“What’s the difference?” he challenged. “And how would you know what I was saying with Jen? My words were muffled by your pussy.”

“I was just giving you a complete breakfast!”

Emerson looked out the passenger window again. They were almost at her aunt and uncle’s.

Charlie was right about one thing.

Two years ago, he’d been much like his cousin Colfax. Shy, isolated. Now, he was better adjusted, mated to the world’s most extroverted squirrel, had twin pups, and, oh, was pulled into regular threesomes with whoever Charlie got the hots for.

I’m the same person … but I’m really not?

Change isn’t that bad.

The harvest mouse swallowed and decided, “Okay, but squirrelly? When we got home, this time I’m riding you.”

“Mmm. Whatever you say … daddy,” she teased in a playful, airy tone, pulling into her relatives’ driveway and parking the truck.

Emerson blushed, ears going rosy. He had to rub his cheeks to collect himself.

Okay, yeah, so he’d come a long way.

But he was still a shy country boy at heart!

In the dark of her small office at the Gazette, on the hard wood of the editor’s desk (papers and pens having been scattered to the floor), the cat and mouse made news (and love) together.

Their clothes left a trail of evidence as to how this had started.

Coats and shirts by the door, jeans on the thin carpet leading up to the desk. Underwear on backrest of her cushioned roller-chair.

They were both naked.

Except for the mouse’s tail. He’d forgotten to take his tail-sock off.

Geneva didn’t care.

She was in her element, raw and powerful, flexing as she pushed off Colfax’s bare, white-furred chest, using the leverage to raise her hips.

Up, up.

Up!

Her nubby tail wagged as she reversed course and crashed her loins back down, grinding, gyrating, flush to the mouse, pinning him with sharp force and wet, silky heat, her pussy swallowing his shaft, making it disappear.

“Uhh!” the mouse grunted, balls-deep in wildcat.

He could hardly believe this was happening.

But the pleasure!

It was too good to not be real.

His whiskers were wilting.

The lynx growled, bouncing harder, faster. “Gr … grab my breasts,” she ordered. “Rub my tits!”

The mouse did so, no questions asked.

“Ah. Ah! Yes. Good boy.”

Bounce, bounce, bounce!

Slick-slick-slap!

After a minute, she leaned over, laying atop him. Smushing her breasts to his body. “Now, kiss me. And hump me while you do.”

Colfax drew his legs back, bending them, spreading them. This gave him purchase to move his hips, which he did. Bucking them up, up. Such a short distance. His wet, hard cock slurping and slopping as it drilled the cat’s vagina, big, rodent balls jostling with each impact.

“Mmm, mmm!” the cat moaned, maw pressed to his.

Lips smacked.

The mouse gasped, needing air.

Geneva licked the golden fur on his cheek, straying to his shoulder, jaw widening around his neck. Fangs slowly pricking at him. She didn’t bite him. Not really. Not hard. Just … feigned it. Left him with the impression that she could if she wanted to. Growling, rumbling, making dangerous, dominant noises.

The mouse shuddered with a mix of adrenaline and arousal. An extremely heady cocktail.

Geneva wrapped Colfax in a hug.

If another predator had been in earshot they would have understood: this prey is mine.

The mouse began to whimper, his penis tingling. His humps growing erratic. Sloppy. His whole body was tensing up! “G-g … geneva … ah, ah! I can’t! I … ah … ”

“Cum for me, mousey,” she demanded. “I’m close, too … oh, I’m here. Give yourself to me … ”

Her words were enough to tip him over the edge.

Colfax squeaked in high, rapid pitches, buckteeth jutting. Head rolling aside. Ears like solar heat dishes. Eyes squeezing shut.

“Uh! UH!” A huff. “Uhh … ”

If he’d been cute before, his orgasm face?

Geneva watched him give in and proceeded to lick his lips, working her tongue into his mouth, swirling hers with his. Scratchy and smooth.

A deeper kiss than before.

Much deeper.

The mouse trembled as he filled the feline with his seed, clutching her thick, fluffy backside while she filled his maw with her tongue.

Then Geneva pulled back to curse.

“Fuck! Yes, oh … yes, yes … I’m … ahhhh!”

She dug her claws into his pelt and hissed, sex clenching. Wet, rippling spasms around his still-twitching cock. Her whole world was rocked. Hit by a tsunami of sensitivity, quaking with bliss. She may have squirted on him. She didn’t know. Didn’t care. Only that it was good.

The mouse, panting beneath the heaving, powerful lynx, hugged her weakly. Paws curling in her fur. Burying his nose against her neck. He twitched, as if in shock.

She hugged him back. Strong and firm, nosing his cheek. Purring, “Open your eyes.”

The mouse did so.

“Good boy.” She stared into him, casually announcing, “You’re mine, now. Understood?” There was no argument to be had.

He shivered and nodded.

I picked a good one.

Geneva purred, asking, “Did you like that? What we just did? You’re not shaking because you regret it … ”

“No, I … I liked it. I just … I’m surprised.” He steadied his breath. “That was amazing! I mean, you … you were amazing. I can’t remember the last time I … I felt like this.”

“First time with a wildcat?”

He nodded.

“Heh. I could tell. But you did so good.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm. In fact, we’re going to be doing this a lot, Cole,” she promised, touching her nose to his.

“H-here? In your office?”

“Ha. No. Well, maybe on special occasions.” She didn’t have any soft furniture in here yet. And as exciting as this was, fucking on a hardwood surface wasn’t ideal. “We’ll find more comfortable places. Like a nice, soft bed.” Speaking of which, “Do you live alone?”

He nodded.

“I’ve been staying with my aunt and uncle. I’d prefer to crash at your place tonight,” she told him. “Alright?”

“Okay,” he whispered.

“Mousey … ” She purred and nuzzled him.

“Mm?”

She kissed his cheek. His chin. Addressing the elephant in the room.

“There aren’t many predator/prey couples in this town.” If any. “People will talk. They might not understand how I … how predators operate. We’re different from you. We just are. And that’s okay. But they might not understand the power dynamics involved when one of my kind … is with their prey. You, yourself, might not understand it yet.”

The mouse listened attentively, quietly.

She pushed herself back up to a straddle, drawing invisible patterns on his chest with her claws. She’d wanted this. So bad. But now that she had it? She had a sudden fear of screwing it up.

There was a reason these types of relationships were rare. Why they often ended in heartbreak.

That’s not going to happen, here.

“I’ll protect you, Cole. You’re mine,” she repeated, pausing and asking, “Are you up for this?”

He nodded meekly. “Yes.”

“You sure?”

“I might look like a pushover, but I … I wouldn’t have come with you if I didn’t … ” He trailed off before adding, “Yes, Geneva.” It wasn’t like he had a lot to lose. Why not try? If it was as good as tonight …

“Good boy.” She smiled with relief, saying more lightly, “And, as a bonus, I’ll keep your name out of the papers.” More purring. “Unless it’s something positive. Like, say, ‘Mouse Gives Kitty Mind-Blowing Orgasms’!”

He giggled. “You wouldn’t … you wouldn’t print that!”

“Mm, I just might! I’ve been told I can be a rabble-rouser.”

She dismounted his cock, and a stream of gooey, white seed pooled all over her desktop. Getting to her foot-paws, she looked around the room. All the stuff on the floor. It looked like a tornado had hit. “We’re gonna have to clean this up before we go.”

“Mice are good at tidying!” Colfax said, also upright again. He stepped into his underwear and wriggled back into his pants and shirt. “You transfer those audio files to your computer, and I’ll, um, take care of the rest.”

An hour later, out in the countryside.

Emerson rolled onto his back, panting, staring at the ceiling in a daze. In their cozy bedroom. Lit by the soft, incandescent glow of a bedside lamp.

“Mmm, mouse-o,” Charlie sighed happily, shifting onto her side and kissing his heaving, matted chest. “That was gooood,” she drawled. Her bushy tail gave an occasional flutter. “You’re better than all the skunks and lynxes in the world.”

“You’re … flattering me a b-bit,” he stammered, speaking through a yawn.

“Am I better, too?”

“Uh-huh,” he said, yawning again. “I love you … ”

Charlie gave him a gentle, little kiss. Right on the lips. Their whiskers brushed intimately.

The tired mouse, eyes drooping, put his paws in the squirrel’s head-fur, lazily scratching behind her ears.

“Go to sleep, Emmy,” she whispered. “I love you, too.”

Not having the energy to do anything else, the mouse drifted off.

Twisting about in her agile squirrel way, Charlie pulled the covers over his body. And hers. Together, snug and warm while the snow still fell outside.

So romantic!

After tucking in her mate, the squirrel heard her phone ding.

She twisted about and grabbed it off her bedside stand.

Opened the text.

Geneva : pounce worthy *mouse emoji, cat emoji, eggplant emoji, peach emoji*

“Heh,” Charlie went, grinning.

Charlie : congrats!!! welcome to the club!!! gimme all the deets tomorrow!!! *firework emoji, thumbs up emoji, lewd squirrel face emoji*

Placing her phone aside and turning off the lights, Charlie cuddled up to Emerson.

It had been a long day.

But, sometimes, those fueled the best dreams.