FSE

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This is a story of first loves found in abnormal arms, found family, and shameless comfort. Read the tags, as it may not be for everyone. The first chapter contains no outright smut, but a lot of sweet emotions and backstory, and some suggestive content. This is the first proper story I've published, but I'm drawing on my long history (at least a dozen years) of being an ERP gremlin in the community, even if that stuff tended to be a bit darker. Any feedback is appreciated; just don't light me up too badly.

Shutting the door behind her with a kick, Nezza shivers in the cold air and the wisps of blizzard sneaking their frigid claws in behind her. Her lithe frame shakes, having underdressed herself in but a sweater and some thick leggings. Not even her thick and plush midnight fur underneath her clothes could ward off the negative twenty, before the windchill, tempest she had just sealed away.

Maybe I shouldn't have gone out into that near whiteout, but someone has to get the wood from the shed and actually bring it inside...

Letting out a dramatic sigh at the unfairness of the world, the infinite cruelty of trees, and the boundless ruthlessness of evil frozen sky water!— She makes her way over to the fireplace wood rack, depositing her armload of timber. She catches the telltale scrabbling of claws in the kitchen as she stands back up, her canine ears flicking her long black hair away instinctively.

Bounding into the room comes her faithful pup, a goofy Shiloh and Bernese mix. His cute ears perk up at the sight of her, and the hint of a doggy smile pairs well with a wagging tail. He quickly gets to her and jumps up. She catches him in her arms as she hugs his body to her, a well-practiced greeting ritual made fierce by her intense need for warmth.

It's so hard to believe it has almost been a full year since I rescued him and he me. It feels like we've always been together, and yet every day too short.

Roughly 8 months ago, Timber was rescued off the streets of Washington, half-starved, matted fur, and a look of despair in his eyes that mirrored her own during her worst episodes of depression. She knew what she had to do at first sight, but never expected how he'd save her in return.

The next few months were spent nursing him back to health, his frame filling out an extra 70 pounds to a muscular 130 as she worked to find food his damaged and desiccated stomach could tolerate. She hand-groomed him every night, slowly working out every knot in his fur, every blood-soaked scab that got caught in undercoat rather than flaking off. Every night they shared her bed, she cuddled close to his form and whispered comfort into his ear as he shuddered, whined, and cried out with unknowable nightmares until gradually he could slumber without fearing the specters of the past, instead wrapping himself against her.

She didn't even notice the changes in herself until he was stabilized; she no longer spent long nights crying herself into quiet black oblivion, scarred arms were left to heal, fantasies of the void claiming her departed from her ashen psyche—she was happy for once, truly happy.

It did, however, result in the oddest pregnancy scare when she missed her estrus cycle, despite her v-card remaining unpunched. She didn't even notice it for a good month, before panic set in. Thankfully, a trip to the hospital, a few large needles, and vacuum tubes later, they discovered her hormones were that of a postpartum mother. After a few too many embarrassing conversations with a nurse, followed by a lot of cooing from the nurses over her "care" and "unbridled good heart", the source was determined to be her new "son."

For as much as my bill was, I wish the hospital had a better answer than, "Congrats! You are just a better mother to your adorable pup than yours was to you!"

Though at least they recognized the perfect resplendent cuteness that is Timber... Anything else I'd doubt their sanity!

That was five months ago though, and her body apparently had adjusted to the constant warm glow of motherly love. Her heat was coming, and this one was intense ; even a week before she could feel her labia itch, her clit throb, and her body flush.

She had a plan, however. She knew long before she met Timber she needed to get away from her city to find peace. The less she had to look over her shoulder for people she'd rather see—and would rather gladly make—dead, the less she had to see that street where she was beaten, or that building where she was berated, the better.

I do think the timing could have worked out differently, namely not several feet of snow in my doorstep.

She had up and moved, left behind the old pains, and gone north. To a land of hope, pine, snow, and solace. Chuckling to herself, she thought...

I guess one could say I was having Nunavut.

That's right, she went that north. Turns out there's a lot of work in fuck-off polar Canada that the average person who goes through any kind of training won't typically come back after getting. She had found a cabin, rent-to-own, for particularly cheap. It was perfect: a propane system for the main heat, a comfortable older-style wood-burning furnace stove combo for those colder nights, a log cabin exterior with those tall vaulted ceilings she adored, and her personal favorite, a large hot tub style bath. She was over the moon for it at first sight, and had only grown more enamored the more she knew.

She had gone the day before she estimated her estrus would hit her in full, and had just arrived that night. The trip was hard on her slowly swelling lips, and she caught the occasional guy staring at her more than once, but she was home now— safe.

And best of all I have my sweetest boi Timber by my side for it! I'm so glad he's taken the move so well; perhaps he also needed to leave behind some memories locked in that ugly, concrete, dead city...

Timber had taken to the new house like a fish to water, energetically sprinting around as she set up his raised feeder in the kitchen and his spare dog bed in the living room. New life was breathed into her most precious boi as she looked on, and cried for the first time in months, not from sadness, but from pure love and empathetic bliss—and probably some early-onset hormones in her system or just a bit of weariness from a long journey and move-in.

Having got the wood inside her home—_I can't believe still it's mine!—_she sets to lighting the stove with clumsy but deliberate movements, having seen more Mootube tutorials than actual practice. Deciding on dinner, she quickly sets to her first time using her kitchen, setting a kettle and a pot to boil on the stove. As she's prepping her ingredients Timber takes up his customary place of honor, directly in the center of the kitchen facing the door to keep his mother protected.

Chuckling contentedly at his protective but also just so him actions, Nezza slips him a few veggies from her cutting board, only melting further into her pleasant warm glow of emotions as he chomps down a carrot while presenting his soft belly for rubs and affection.

I-... I don't think I've ever been as happy and relaxed as I am right now... Is this what it's like to live your life? And to think, I have Timber to thank for all of this; without him, I never would have gotten over the fear, that dark pit, that chasm of misery...

As if sensing his mother's melancholy, Timber hops to his feet, and with a tired yawn comes up, rubbing himself on her hip, letting out a chuff of reassurance. A smile once again blossoms on her face as she feels sincere adoration for her sweetest of bois.

Continuing with her cooking, Nezza pours some cheap pasta into her now bubbling pot of water and a quick spurt of olive oil, humming in her once again calmed mind. She grabs a pot and starts combining the veggies, some chopped chicken thigh, spices of course, and some other ingredients into a sauce for the pasta. Finishing out the sour cream in particular she lets out a soft breath of thought, staring at all the cream left in the little nooks and crannies of the yellow plastic container.

His stomach has been on the up these last few months, so it should be ok to give him; he always loves to work at it too... Yea, I think he def deserves it!

So thinking, she walks over to Timber, presenting him with the container as she softly coos, "Hey sweet boi, ya want a treat? Hm? Can you shake sweetie?" Following their routine, Timber shakes with his right paw, then left, then both before plonking down and rolling over. Setting the container on the floor, Timber watches with excitement, and hungry eyes, as he presents his fluffy belly to the world before finally getting permission, "Get it silly boi!"

So hearing his mom's permission, he springs up, excitedly scrambling for the packaging he knows to contain his prize. Taking the container between his two front paws, he plops across the floor and goes to work getting every bit of his cool, creamy treat. Nezza watches on, a soft smile gracing her own muzzle as she watches the most important being in her life able to experience the simple bliss of a treat without all of the baggage he once had. There were no half flinches from a past unknown to her; no downcast gaze from trauma unseen. Instead, she watches on as he carefully but intently works his long and broad tongue into every millimeter of his treat, holding it firmly to his maw. She feels almost hypnotized watching his ministrations, not noticing the delicate blush filling her cheeks at his skillful tongue work.

Damn, I always forget how… — With a visible gulp, she continues to ponder, —Yea… He certainly knows how to use that thing.

Broken from her trance a few moments later by her sauce letting out a pop, she nearly jumps from her pelt. Suddenly remembering she was, in fact, in the middle of cooking, Nezza quickly rushes over to stir her sauce. Thankfully she finds it unburnt, despite her lapse in attention. The rest of her meal's preparation goes off without incident, only a brief pause as Timber moves back to his protective sleeping spot and Nezza scoops the now spotless sour cream container into the kitchen trash.

Soon enough she is grabbing a bowl of pasta, pouring a thick creamy sauce on top. Leaving it to cool, she briskly packs the leftovers into her fridge.

I wonder if I could just place it outside instead, though I suppose I no longer have to scrape and save every penny anymore... That summer I went without plugging in my fridge was definitely a... thing.

Swaying into her living room, pasta in paw, she pulls the top of her coffee table up to better work as a table. Leaving her load on the table, her faithful mutt keeping an eye on her dinner, she looks over her options for a drink.

Hmmm, what am I feeling tonight, cranberry juice would balance out the creamy pasta... But I'm feeling something stronger— Aha!

Spotting a bottle she threw in the fridge rather carelessly, she snakes her paw in to grab it. Pulling it back she reveals the label: cranberry-flavored vodka! A perfect mixer to cranberry juice, or lemonade if she was in the mood. She juggles the bottle, one of juice, and a glass as she makes her way back to her food and her boi, who faithfully guarded his mother's food with rapt attention.

Mixing up a quick glass she turns her attention to the TV, browsing briefly before settling on some generic yuri anime. The screen flashes with scenes of women kissing, blushing, and generally being sweet as she eats. Cooing at a particular scene as two girls make out while sharing a sip of vodka she finishes her food, setting the bowl down, and pulling her boi and a blanket into a cuddle pile on the large couch. Timber quickly assumes his favorite position, lying in front of her torso as her legs wrap up around him, his head nuzzled up between her modest handful breasts, facing her in a spooning position. They share their warmth with each other under the blanket, melting into a peaceful quiet with not but the TV interrupting their moment of calm.

Her mind winds down, slowly but surely, the occasional sip of alcohol working her muscles from their constant tense readiness into a melted puddle, feeding that relaxation into Timber through their entwined forms.

Gradually her eyes grow heavy, her body falling in and out of a short unconsciousness as the anime flashes intimate scenes between girls. She hardly notices the plot before it finally gets to the end credits.

Guess I should finally get to bed, sooner rather than later... As much as I want to lie here all night, my back would hate me for it.

Letting out the most dramatic groan Nezza nudges Timber; having joined her napping with gentle sounds of his own. Waking with a look of annoyance only a pup could demonstrate he lets slip a groan to rival his mother's own before squirming off her, plopping to the ground, and setting off for the bedroom. With a stretch of her own, she crawls herself to her feet. The warm blanket falls to the couch, hitting her with a wave of alcohol vertigo, leaving her shivering in the chill and swaying with a flushed face.

Scooping up her dishes and a far closer to empty than expected bottle of alcohol with clumsy movements, she makes her way to the fridge to stow the remnants. Then, the sink where she makes short work of her dishes.

Beb time now, tonight was... good. I hope most nights will be as well, for Timber's sake if not mine.

Following Timber's path, she makes her way into the bedroom, coming into a comfortably appointed wood-filled room; an unlit fireplace facing the foot of a large canopy bed, black curtains tied to its posts, and a few lamps providing dim illumination to the space. Noticing Timber, she chortles drunkenly at his antics. He, of course, simply lets out a soft boof and further spreads himself across the pillows at the top of her bed.

Stripping off her leggings to show off her long legs with slim but powerful thighs, she approaches the bed, "Timber, baby boy, you know what happens when you take my pillows!" She sways forward and pulls her sweater gracelessly from her head, letting soft orbs without a bra spill from its confines as nipples harden in the chill air. With an exaggerated leap, she springs into bed, hugging herself into Timber and squirming her chill body under fluffy covers. "Youuuuuu become the pillow!", She coos with a drawn-out slur to her words as she rests her head on his chest; hearing the deep, strong, slow beat of his heart in her ears as she snuggles into him.

He's a pillow, he's a pet, he's a pillow pet!

Nezza, impressed with her own joke, snickers drunkenly into Timber as he gives her a look that can only be described as a mix of love—and putting up with her. In short order, however, both of them find slumber, drifting off in the soothing warmth of their closeness with each other.