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Tunnel of Love By Dissident Love 10,700 Words This story started due to the confluence of a furry picture I saw on Bluesky, and a suggestion for a character by a friend of mine that matched up almost perfectly. As with all good coincidences, this one instantly came together as a story seed, And I had the whole thing planned out by the end of the night! Of course, that meant I still had to write it� Smith Walker saw her cocking an air rifle at a clown, and knew he was in love. The Freeport Midway was bustling on a Friday night. Spring had hit like a hot wet blanket this year, and no-one could handle being stuck inside after the long, wearying winter. The sun hung low in the sky, still months away from the late summer evenings that would keep the crowds throbbing past midnight, but the Midway was as busy as ever. Rides festooned with rainbow lights spun and twirled and blared music into the night, a dozen medically-unsound foodstuffs filled the air with enticing aromas, and a hundred cheap games with a thousand cheap prizes screamed for attention. Smith wasn�t too into the most popular rides, being as afraid of heights as he was. He also wasn�t very interested in the games, since he didn�t need any more small stuffed ducks, small wooden ducks, or small inflatable ducks. He WAS interested in the ladies, though, and you couldn�t beat the Midway for throngs of college babes clustered together, giggling and gabbing and hopefully making big moon eyes at buff, burly boys in their deep purple varsity jackets. This one raccoon gal by the Clown Invasion USA game seemed to be solo, though, which was all the more intriguing. No retinue of fellow females, no entourage of admiring males. Just a perky procyon firing lead pellets at plastic clown targets as though they�d personally wronged her family in some ancient feud. He couldn�t even pretend his eye wasn�t initially drawn by her figure, though. Sturdy legs rose up to a pair of hot pink booty shorts, her ample ass shifting back and forth as she adjusted her aim. An immensely bushy striped tail twitched back and forth aggressively, nearly taking other Midway patrons out at the kneecaps. Above all that, a simple orange hoodie that had to be custom-sized was still stretched to translucency by a pair of improbably-spherical breasts that had to account for more than half of her total mass. She hadn�t a chance in hell of touching her fingers together in front of her chest, but that did give her quite the expansive balcony to rest the rifle on, and she used that ability to maximum effectiveness. Three more shots, and she was presented with a huge stuffed duck playing bongo drums. She was in the middle of refusing the prize and trying to trade a wad of bills for more ammunition when Smith made his move. �You can�t expect the lovely lady to carry something like that by herself!� he said grandly, stepping up to her side and making to take the stuffed duck. He smiled down at the spectacularly curvy raccoon with what he hoped was a dashing, roguish smile. �And it would be rude of me not to offer my services.� Up close, she was even prettier than he expected. A messy bob of black hair cut through with golden zigzags framed a slender, mischievous muzzle, her dark eyes sparkling behind yellow-tinted glasses. She looked up at him, her lips twisting in amusement. �I do believe that�s the most polite way I�ve ever been robbed,� she said, her voice surprisingly deep and husky. �Robbed! Perish the thought,� Smith said, hoping this was still in the realm of flirting. �Think of me as your humble manservant, here to help with all the dull heavy lifting. You could probably win two or three more of these ducks with me around! Look, that one has a guitar. You could have a mariachi band by the end of the night.� The petite raccoon eyed Smith up and down, having to turn slightly in order to see the �down� beyond her bust. He was tall for a donkey, his stormy grey fur coiffed and fluffed to the point he could be mistaken for a highland steer. Thick, broad shoulders stretched out his football jacket, loose belted blue jeans muting but also somehow accentuating his mildly hyper endowments. Smith�s self esteem took a slight hit when she only lingered on his bulge long enough to smirk. She masked it smoothly and quickly with a pleasant, aloof smile, her whiskers twitching. �I�m honored,� she said dryly, letting the air gun dangle by her side. She turned to face him fully, her tufted ears barely up to his collarbones, her spectacular beachballs completely contained within her hoodie but still filling his mind with warm, fuzzy thoughts. �Sure you don�t have anywhere else you�d like to be? Hot dog eating contest? Hitting a plank with a hammer and trying to ring a bell? Tractor pull?� �Tractor pull�s next week,� Smith sighed sadly, shaking his own shaggy locks. �Not that it matters to me. It�s too easy these days.� He pondered flexing, but something told him this lady wasn�t the sort to be impressed by anything as pedestrian as an equine with muscles. �Pity. I was looking forward to seeing you harnessed up.� �They have rickshaw rides on the south side. I could steal one and give you a tour of the cannery district.� �Light industrial sprawl. Be still my heart.� �When the sunset hits the methane stacks, it�s magical.� �Not sure I trust a strange donk after sunset, even if he is willing to steal me a hoof taxi.� �How do you know I�m strange?� �We�ve been talking for a full minute and you haven�t flexed at me once.� �Well, not above the waist�� The raccoon girl�s lips twitched. Both of them glanced down, making it abundantly clear that she couldn�t see anything below her chest, or below his. Her ears wiggled. One eye seemed to be trying to blink, but failing. Her fingers tightened on the barrel of the air rifle� �but she cracked first and burst out laughing, long and loud and sonorous. Smith joined a moment later, wiping away tears and leaning against the wooden post at the corner of Clown Invasion USA. �OK, you win,� she managed at last, her sweater audibly creaking as she tried to catch her breath. �Yay, I win!� Smith said, pumping his fist in the air. �Wait. What exactly do I win? I think I lost track.� �You get to carry Mister Quackers.� Smith looked over to the carney, a gangly giraffe grrl who was still holding the duck out. Shi grinned unabashedly, clearly taking great enjoyment from the back and forth flirting. �Look, I just need ONE of y�all to take this damn duck before my arm falls off.� Smith took the already-named Mister Quackers, the raccoon girl handed the air gun back, and they walked off together, leaving the carney shaking hir head in amusement. �So, Mister Flexing, what can I call you?� she asked, resting one hand on his thick arm where it wrapped around the huge stuffed duck. �Smith.� �First name?� �Yup.� �No, I mean� your first name is Smith?� �It�s a normal name! My parents said it sounded honest.� �Since you sound like you�re making up a bad lie on the spot, you might want to talk to them about their choices.� �So what�s your name?� he asked with a grin. �Surely an unimpeachable nom de normalcy.� �Cricket,� she said simply. They walked in silence for several long seconds, between cotton candy vendors, popcorn machines and loud buzzing speakers demanding ceaseless attention. Many eyes were drawn to Cricket�s spectacular figure, made all the more dramatic by her petite stature. She glanced up at him eventually. �You�re trying to find some way to make fun of my name, aren�t you?� �... no,� Smith said, cementing his reputation as a bad liar. �I was just admiring it, is all.� �Smart boy,� she said, slipping her little paw tighter between his forearm and the duck, resulting in quite a lot of sideboob also rubbing against his arm. Smith breathed a tiny sigh of relief; it seemed he�d passed another test. This girl was quite a bit more than he bargained for, and he couldn�t be more delighted. Sure, he�d hit on her because she had a rack that seemed to defy physics, but now he just wanted to figure out what would make her laugh. �Picked it myself.� He nodded. �In that case, it definitely suits you.� �Small and annoying?� �Exotic and inscrutable. I tried learning the rules to cricket once, and I woke up in the hospital.� Cricket�s laugh this time was neither flirty nor throaty. She barked so loud and sharp that Smith nearly jumped out of his hooves, before she swatted his arm with her paw and swatted his backside with her tail. �OK, that gets bonus points!� she said, her grin wide and genuine. �There�s points now?!� �We�re always keeping score, Mister Smith. But don�t worry. I�m not a sore winner.� The banter slowly became less competitive, and Smith learned more about the stacked and spunky Cricket. While he went to Freeport Technical University on a now-defunct football scholarship, she spent her days writing indie game code from home and her evenings taking every free art course in the city. He genuinely had no idea that there were small, independent art galleries in town, or that there were so many of them! He even managed not to make a joke about her posing nude for still life studies, so she made the joke for him and insisted that they never asked her back, because how hard is it to draw two circles and a smiley face? �You know, I have a question,� Smith said, after they�d purchased and consumed cotton candy. �Hmm?� �Something I�ve been wondering since I first saw you, back at the shooting gallery.� �Mmm.� �I�m sure you get asked this all the time,� he said, with only a hint of evasiveness. �I�m sure I do,� she nodded, arms crossed over her breasts and nearly blocking her muzzle. �Well� how�d you get so good at shooting?� Cricket blinked. �Once again, you�ve zigged when I expect a zag.� �Well, I�m 1/16th zebra.� Cricket inhaled thoughtfully, her shirt drawing so tight it was nearly shiny. Smith had been doing his very best not to stare, ogle, gawk or goggle, but he was pretty sure her bust had grown over the last hour. He had plenty of questions about THAT, but genuinely didn�t know when he could ask something like that. He didn�t want to ruin� whatever it was they had thus far. �I did a lot of sports as a kid back in Umbria. Winter sports, obviously. Downhill skiing, speed skating� biathlon.� �That�s cross-country and shooting, right?� �Bingo,� she said, making cheesy finger-guns at him and winking. �Suffice to say, there came a time when I wasn�t as� mobile anymore. Particularly when it came to throwing myself face-down in a snowbank and trying to aim a rifle.� Smith took a half step back, taking in Cricket�s lithe, clearly athletic body, and the vast spheres that obscured so much of that body. �I can see that,� he mused. �I�m sorry.� �Meh,� she shrugged. �I liked it, didn�t think I was gonna bring home the gold or anything. I still do it for myself, just in a warmer form. Endurance training with the girls here is just me walking any further than the corner store, and they do make an excellent targeting platform if I shoot while standing. The Midway will know me and fear me.� �You should buy a wagon to carry around Mister Quackers and the friends I�m sure he�ll make,� Smith chuckled, bopping the huge stuffed bird playfully against her bosom. �Meh,� the pert raccoon repeated. �Half the time I don�t even take the prize. I just like knowing I can still do it.� �Valid. I�m kinda the same way.� Her ears perked up. �Oh?� she asked, too innocently. Smith�s cheeks reddened. �It�s strange, I still get weird when I talk about this, even though I brought it up,� he said, uncharacteristically softly. �You probably see the jacket?� �Nah, my boobs are in the way. What is it? Biker gang?� They chuckled. She could clearly see the jacket, but he appreciated her attempt to shift some of the embarrassment away from his own situation. �Varsity, football. I was� well, maybe I wasn�t gonna end up in the FFL, but I was good enough to get into college for free because of it. And, at the risk of sounding full of myself, I was always pretty big. But it was barely halfway through my first season when it became obvious I was a late bloomer.� It was Cricket�s turn to take a half step back, and she still had to bend at the waist slightly to really get a good look at Smith�s jeans. They were away from the main hustle and bustle of the Midway, leaning against the wooden boardwalk railings in the rumbling lee of the Insane-O-Tron. Smith�s eyes widened at the sight of the spectacularly top-heavy raccoon bending like that, her breasts now blocking her arms and legs from his sight, but he rallied bravely and continued. �Coach and the team doctors had worked with this before, you know. Plenty of big guys in the sport have a propensity for a little size, a little hyperness, and they weren�t about to let me go without a fight. But by the end of the year, with the creams and lotions and compression shorts, I had still outgrown the regulation groin protection.� Cricket was staring openly, and Smith had to resist the urge to turn away from her, but her attention didn�t seem the least bit objectifying. Intense, yes, and unless he missed his guess her smile was slightly more appreciative than professional, but he didn�t get the feeling he was being sized up like a few slabs of meat. His jeans were custom fit, stretched around a bulge the size of a basketball, and the sheer amount of tenting did draw the eye away from a much longer bulge that nearly reached his right knee. Hyper, no doubt about it, but with his height and general stockiness, it still seemed almost proportional. �Aren�t there hyper leagues?� she asked. �Yeah, just like there are for you,� he nodded. �But� I dunno, at that point the shine had gone off the game, I think. Especially when plenty of the folks in that league would be quite a bit bigger and stronger than me, to say nothing of more� uhm� substantial.� Slowly Cricket leaned back, staring up into his eyes now. She stepped closer, and soon her vast prow was pressed against everything between his zipper and his sternum. �Something wrong with substantial?� she asked with a meaningfully raised eyebrow. Smith grinned. �Not in a million years, lil� bug.� �Bug, hmm? Is that a term of endearment?� �I hope it can become that.� �In Freeport Midway, bug squish you!� she proclaimed, taking a surprisingly powerful step forwards and pinning Smith to the guardrail with her breasts. �Ack! Whoa, careful, I don�t wanna end up in the water!� Smith said, his arms flailing as his butt thumped up against the wooden rail. �Better grab onto something.� Smith calmed when he noticed she wasn�t pushing hard anymore. He lowered his arms, his heavy mitts coming to rest on the outer slopes of Cricket�s sweater. Her breasts were gigantic, warmth radiating off of them, much firmer than he�d expected. Moving carefully, he bent at the waist, leaning over her vast prow, his muzzle gliding up to hers. �May I-� Her paws shot out like harpoons, one gripping his neck, one twining into the shaggy hair on the back of his head, hauling him into a kiss that nearly yanked his tongue out of his mouth. He wasn�t a straight A student, but Smith was still bright enough to pick up on subtle body language changes like this. The arms that had briefly made him feared on the gridiron strained to reach fully around her bust, and failed. As though to mock his attempt, they actually swelled noticeably in his arms with a faint rumbling sound that he almost mistook for a distant rollercoaster. She swam into view when the kiss finally broke and he could uncross his eyes. Cricket was chewing cutely on her pinkie claw, her other paw plucking at the straining material of her hoodie. �Sorry, I interrupted you,� she said. �Rude,� Smith agreed, not minding the awkward bent position in the least. He could feel himself growing more aroused with each passing second, and while the smothering presence of her breasts wasn�t making it any easier to ignore, it WAS hiding it from view. They stayed like that for some time. Occasionally they�d make meaningful eye contact and chuckle. Smith would move one of his hands and Cricket would inhale at his touch. She would shift her weight, smushing her tremendous bulk against him, and he would feel his hardening endowment shove its way another inch or two down his pantleg. �We should probably-� �Do you want some more cotton candy-� �I mean, we can�t stay here all night-� �The railing is kinda hurting my butt-� �My sweater is stretchy, but it has limits-� �Ditto for my jeans, not that I�m bragging or anything-� Slowly, reluctantly, Cricket backed off. Smith screwed up his muzzle and hastily adjusted himself, repositioning everything so that the material didn�t bunch and bind. Donkeys might not be the most magnificent examples of equine nature, but there were still a lot of moving parts and interesting topology to contend with. �Cotton candy sounds good,� Cricket said, watching him work with naked appreciation. �Blink when you get an eyefull.� �Never, cutie,� she grinned, slipping her arm through his when he was squared away. Walking close to his side like this, the frankly unbelievable width of her bust actually shielded his own considerable bulges from view. �Come on, I have an idea.� �Hey, that�s a neat trick,� Smith said, squeezing her arm and trying to ignore the fact that he was rubbing his partial erection against her sideboob (rearboob?) while walking through a busy Friday night Midway. More people than ever were turning to stare, but now they only had eyes for Cricket. �You�re quite the grower.� �Hold that thought,� Cricket murmured. Ten minutes later, the pair of them munching happily away on enormous sticks of cotton candy, Cricket finished leading the amiably confused Smith to the furthest stretch of the boardwalk. It was somewhat away from the hustle and bustle, the lights and the noise of the main attractions. They could hear the waves lapping at the nearby beach, individual conversations of the other couples� and they were indeed mostly couples. Smith looked up at the sign, swirling old-school neon tubes that miraculously hadn�t been replaced by LEDs. �The Tunnel Of Love?� Cricket bounced slightly, her sweater creaking and sloshing. Away from the heart of the Midway, Smith was now also acutely aware of the wonderful noises the raccoon�s body made. �You don�t sound convinced.� �I mean� it�s a big step in our relationship,� he said evasively. �Sure, we bonded over guns, and you tried to push me into the water, but this is-� She playfully swatted his rump, and Smith�s muzzle snapped shut with a grin. �I�ll even pay for your ticket,� she said, dragging him up to the bored corvid kid slouched at the booth. �Three dollars? Big spender.� �You�re worth every penny.� The front facade to the Tunnel Of Love looked like a stereotypical big top tent, alternating red and black and white stripes. It even had tinny calliope music playing over some hidden speakers. The ticket booth sulked inside the loop of rail track that connected the exit to the entrance. Smith leaned to the side as they walked and noticed that this tent was erected against the side of what looked like a defunct self storage facility. �Romantic,� he said, earning another swat. �It actually used to be the yacht club, back in the day,� Cricket explained. �When there weren�t any more yachts, it got turned into this.� �Marked improvement.� �I thought so. Now hush, I�m trying to be seductive. Two, please!� The black-feathered teen took Cricket�s pawful of change, his gaze locked onto her stretched-out sweater with laser-like precision. She didn�t seem to mind or notice, and Smith assumed she was used to just about all manner of attention. Rather than getting tickets, though, the crow just shrugged expressively towards the trio of empty two-seater carts waiting by the entrance. �Hold on,� Smith drawled, tucking Mister Quackers behind the ticket booth. �Lemme just beat our way through the crowds here�� Cricket rolled her eyes. �Some people have no respect for the classics.� Smith was surprised to find that the carts were actually quite spacious, like a three-seater couch mounted to a wide metal platform, giving plenty of room for the big burly donk and the petite but exceptionally wide raccoon to stretch out. He deliberately sat against the far sidewall, extending a hand to help her into the cart, and was delighted when she sat as close as she could manage. She couldn�t quite get hip to hip with him, but her vast acreage of sideboob completely filled his lap with a dense, faintly-vibrating pressure. �Well, hello there,� he said hoarsely, stretching an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. �Hello yourself,� she smirked, a tiny paw working its way between her bust and his lap. By the time the bored crow pulled the lever to send the cart trundling into the Tunnel of Love, Cricket had already nestled her fingers around Smith�s denim-clad bulge, very slowly working them towards his knee. Smith didn�t know what to expect from the interior of the Tunnel of Love. The general vibe reminded him of the cheap haunted house rides of his youth, so he wouldn�t have been surprised by skeletons and ghouls dressed up for dates to a screechy magnetic-tape recording of laughter and romantic string music. As the matte black doors closed behind them, the myriad sounds of the Midway were cut off instantly. The cart creaked and bounced as it accelerated, reaching speeds of three, but then smoothed out and became nearly silent. Cricket and Smith rode in pitch darkness for ten seconds before he decided to make a move. He leaned over, acutely aware of Cricket�s immense bust nearly pinning him in place, and nuzzled her ear, inviting her to turn his way and maybe return the gentle overture. Instead, he felt a single finger pressing against his lips. �One second,� she said. �Aw-� The Tunnel of Love chose that moment to explode. Overhead projectors turned the high arching ceiling into a vast panorama of swirling nebulae and a shifting rainbow of fireworks. Swirling neon tubes outlined mountains and jungles to either side of them, offset from more projections on the walls to give the impression of depth and distance. Music swelled, an orchestral piece that strummed and soared above lo-fi chill beats. Smith�s jaw dropped. �Whoa,� he breathed, his eyes swimming with color, trying to pick out the actual dimensions of the tunnel while simultaneously trying to drink in the incredible illusion. After the initial overture, the projections settled down and the pair found themselves drifting through an impressive recreation of ye olden canals. Even the wooden planks shimmered with projected water, brilliant azure rippling with the movements of tiny fish. �I had no idea this place was so� fancy,� Smith said, groping for words and forgetting he�d been groping something else a moment ago. Cricket giggled, shifting her weight against him. �I�m glad you like it. One of my art collectives took on the revitalization project last year.� Smith looked down at her in surprise. �You did this?!� �Well, me and about twenty other art nerds and tech dorks,� she said airily. �Composed the music, designed the backgrounds, sourced some really cheap mini-projectors. City paid for it, or at least most of it, when we described it as a test case to revitalize other parts of the Midway. Make it a constantly shifting, high-tech, top-of-the-line multimedia experience.� They rounded a corner with all the urgency of an old woman in a checkout line, and the canals became a green river flowing through an alien landscape. Distant rock formations defied all scientific rationale, and what Smith could only describe as airwhales floated overhead on gossamer wings. �Daaaamn.� They rode in silence for a couple minutes, until Smith was brought out of his reverie by a tiny but quite skilled paw massaging his flare through his jeans. He huffed and snorted, feeling everything down there flexing and swelling under Cricket�s touch, finally pushing past his knee. He looked down at her once more, to find her staring up at him, waggling her eyebrows. �Did you forget about me?� �Not in a million years,� Smith chuckled. �I was just� appreciating your� skill.� �Artistic or massage?� �Yes.� This time when Smith moved in for a kiss, Cricket was more than happy to reciprocate. Worlds and biomes and galaxies twirled around them, but Smith was only vaguely aware of their passing. For him, the whole world consisted of a feisty, impossibly full raccoon girl and her gifted little paws teasing him larger and larger. He shifted as his hyperness became more apparent, stretching out his left leg to give himself more room to grow. He ordered his jeans from hyper-affiliated suppliers, so he was pretty sure they�d survive the date, but the hybrid denim material was really starting to get snug around his balls. Perhaps even more impressive, his growth was pushing Cricket�s breast higher in his lap, rising warmly against his chest. Her muzzle shifted in a sly grin, her tongue retreating from his mouth. �Not bad,� she said, her fingers dancing along his length. Smith was panting softly, one arm wrapped around her lap-filling orb, the other still slung around her shoulders and massaging her far curves. She had definitely grown just since the ride started, her bust dwarfing her petite frame to a staggering degree. �You�re one to talk,� he said, wondering how far he had to reach to actually feel the nubs of her nipples through her sweater. �Never met a gal who grows like you!� �Ain�t that the truth,� Cricket said with what sounded like a sad sigh. �Smith-� �You�ve got a boyfriend,� he guessed, crestfallen. �What? No!� �Girlfriend?� �No.� �Polycule?� �Stop guessing, you dingus!� Cricket snapped, but she couldn�t hide her smile. �Gawd. Ok, yes, I have something to tell you, but now you�ve made it weird and built it up.� �You�re from an alien planet and you have to go now, your planet needs you.� She glared. �At least that one�s new. No, it�s� look, I usually have a way of doing this, and you threw off my groove.� The tunnel shifted again around them, and darkness seemed to fall. The cart rolled merrily down a video game jungle, mine cart tracks lit by red and yellow torches spaced evenly. The real show were the stars above, blazing so close and intensely that Smith could make out individual planets in rainbow colors and sunspots on the stars themselves. �Dangit,� Cricket sighed. �I WANTED to do it in the desert part, because the light� it�s better� then, the darkness after�� �Gotta be honest, gorgeous, you�re weirding me out, but I am just dying to know what it is you�re trying to tell me.� Cricket sighed again. �I�m not gonna be unfair and DEMAND you don�t laugh, or get angry or anything, because that�s not something you can promise.� Smith slipped his own paw beneath her breast, awed once more at its sheer weight, and squeezed her hand in his. �Darlin, unless you�re about to tell me your wife is waiting at the exit with a hunting rifle, I�m pretty sure I can handle it. I�m a big boy.� �I�ve noticed,� Cricket grinned, squeezing back and tweaking Smith�s medial ring through his jeans. �OK, well� here goes nothing. And remember, you promised.� �I didn�t actually promise, you told me that-� �Just shut up and pay attention, ok?� Smith made a sad sound as Cricket scooted away from him, moving all the way to the far side of the cart. Unable to help years of being slightly self-conscious, his hands moved to try and cover his own bulges, even though it was a completely losing battle at this point. The outline of his cock was painted in skintight blue stretch denim, fully equine and reaching nearly three feet to the bottom of his calf. His thighs were forced apart now, his sac having swollen like a watermelon, his zipper glinting in the galaxy light. Cricket chuckled and winked. �Hold THAT thought, too,� she purred, craning her neck to see Smith�s endowments. �OK, here goes.� She started to wriggle, and it took Smith a moment in the dim light to see that she was tugging at the hem of her tent-like sweater. Bit by bit, her arms working back and forth due to her inability to reach around her own bulk, the sweater started to ride up. �Do you need a hand?� Smith asked. �No! No, I got this. Just� oof� hadn�t planned on growing this much.� �The six words every hyper knows,� he nodded sagely. �I need to get it printed on my next bra,� Cricket laughed, her voice slightly manic. �Just� gotta� oof! OK, here we go�� Having ridden up the sweater on the sides of her spheres, Cricket reached way over the front of her chest, gripped the fabric, and started to haul upwards with more energy. Inch by inch, foot by foot, the fabric stretched further, exposing her thighs and lower belly- Not her lower belly, Smith noticed. As the sweater rose, it seemed to reveal Cricket wearing something akin to a one-piece bathing suit underneath. Her underboob seemed to slope smoothly to the junction of her thighs, but there was more material than he would have guessed. In fact, it seemed her own thighs were being forced apart by some mass he couldn�t quite make out. �Don�t get ahead of me, big boy,� Cricket grunted. �Just� a little� more� HAH!� With a sound like a tall ship�s sails filling with wind, the immense orange hoodie was flung triumphantly into the air. Cricket managed to snag it with one paw before it disappeared behind the cart, leaving her panting, lap filled by her titanic swells clad in some kind of shiny black support. Except something about the angle was wrong. They were lower now. Smith could see her chest rising and falling with her labored breathing, but there seemed to be too much tawny-white fluff on display, as though her breasts weren�t attached the way he was used to. Smith�s jaw dropped as Cricket leaned back, spread her legs, and with a pair of tooth-rattling thuds, her �breasts� rolled forwards and slammed into the spacious platform of the cart. �Uuuuhhhh�� Smith said. His eyes bounced around, trying to take in everything. Cricket�s torso was sleek and slender, a flat chest running down to a flat tummy. Just below that, a semi-erect mammalian cock bobbed with the motion of the cart, golden brown at the base and darkening to a rich mahogany at the tip. Smith guessed it to be nearly two feet long, shorter than his own, but noticeably quite a bit girthier. Her hot pink booty shorts were still visible at her hips, as narrow as a belt now, but being tugged down by the unrestrained bulk of her gigantic testes. The thought eventually crystallized properly in his brain: Cricket�s breasts were actually the biggest pair of balls Smith had ever seen. �Yeah,� Cricket said, nodding and wriggling her arms out of the support undergarment. �This is me.� �...whuh.� She stretched out her legs, almost completely hidden by her major-applianced-sized seedtanks and wiggled her toes. She stretched her arms overhead, rolling her neck with a series of faint creaks and pops. �You�ve really done a number on my upper back,� she chuckled. �I haven�t grown that much from an hour of flirting in� maybe ever.� �...hwah.� She traced a tiny paw up and down her shaft, the shockingly thick member plumping up even more. Veins like Smith�s thumbs throbbed at the base, and he noticed for the first time that a similar network of blood vessels wriggled like lightning across the velvety-white pelt of her scrotum. He only had to watch for a few seconds to confirm that she was still growing. Cricket raised an eyebrow. �Speak to me, hoss. You�re making me worried.� Smith cleared his throat. He pointed to Cricket�s mask-like coloring across her eyes and her trademark striped tail. �...tanuki?� he managed. �Tanuki,� Cricket agreed. Smith nodded. Next, he pointed at her trim, comparatively masculine chest, swirling his finger to indicate the general area as a whole. �Cricket� she, her?� Cricket smiled. �Cricket. She, her.� The burly donk nodded again. His mind whirled, old information being discarded, new information slotting into place, but most of his assumptions and conclusions remaining unchanged. His eyes roamed over the newly-revealed topology of his petite paramour, marvelling at how such delicate hips could support a package that had to outweigh the rest of her body easily two-to-one. He took a deep breath. �Can I kiss you agai-� As it turned out, Cricket could move VERY quickly in spite of her prodigious bulk. - With a �ding�, the Exit doors to the Tunnel of Love opened. The cart trundled merrily out, revealing the dainty procyon with the massively inflated bosom and the burly jack with the extremely un-subtle bulges. Their hair was mussed, their clothing askew, the pair of them giggling like maniacs and blinking as their eyes adjusted to the real world once more. The crow minding the ticket booth watched as all four of their paws worked to adjust the girl�s sweater, tugging an entire boutique�s worth of fabric back into place. He also wasn�t entirely surprised when they sprinted out of the now-rearmost cart, slammed some money on the booth, hopped into the front cart, and disappeared back through the Entrance doors. Before the explosion lights and the musical overture could greet them, they had Cricket�s sweater off again, rolled up and tucked neatly into the corner of the cart. Next, they worked together to get Smith�s jeans down, which wasn�t the easiest task while sitting or standing on a moving platform. �Getting these back on is going to be a real problem,� he grunted, finally managing to shove everything past his knees. �That�s a problem for FUTURE Smith,� Cricket giggled. She wrapped her fingers around him, just behind his flare, and tugged him down to the seat cushions. �Get over here, you.� They sat hip to hip, legs spread, arms around each other, kissing and chuckling as the lights bloomed and the show began. Smith�s swollen sac hung like a pair of basketballs, tugging at his loins as they sought to tip over the edge of the seat. Cricket�s orbs filled most of the platform, almost completely burying her legs. �So why the big production about showing me� uhm� your big production?� Smith asked between kisses, his hands roaming over Cricket�s boyish chest. �Not to paint with a broad brush, but not every jock is as open-minded as you are,� Cricket replied, gripping Smith�s shoulders and nuzzling into his neck. �I grew up with a lot of competitive athletes. Some of them weren�t even thrilled about using my new name or pronouns.� �Jerks,� Smith muttered. �Though, I admit I do have a lot of questions about how� well, how all of this went down. Going from here� to here�� He rest one hand against her colossal orbs, then slid it meaningfully up her tummy to her chest. Cricket chuckled. �Fair enough, I suppose. Call it a marriage of convenience with myself? I always knew what was going to happen, tanuki-wise. Our family line is not subtle with the traits. At the same time, I knew for years that wasn�t how I saw myself.� Smith�s exploring of Cricket�s anatomy slowed, became much more gentle. �I hope I�m not being too� uhm, I mean, I hope it�s not intrusive of me to� uhm�� Cricket�s eyebrow arched. With deliberate force, she grabbed Smith�s wrist, yanked his arm up, and slammed his hand against her cock. �Honey, I wouldn�t have gotten us both to third base if I didn�t like what either of us were working with,� she growled affectionately, moving his heavy mitt up and down her length. �J-just making sure�� For a time they simply sat there, stroking each other, breathing heavily. Cricket had to stretch her arm to reach the tip of Smith�s maleness, so she tilted it back until it lay against the donkey�s chest, rising up until it bobbed in front of his eyes. �Not to make everything about this, but I�ve never been with anyone bigger than me,� she whispered, licking her lips. Smith laughed. �Bigger? Me?� He shifted and gripped the middle of Cricket�s shaft with both hands, which very pointedly could not reach all the way around no matter how he positioned his fingers. �I might be a baseball bat, but babe, you�ve got a fucking fire hydrant here!� �Yeah, but, girth isn�t everything,� she demurred. �Honestly, it�s ended more dates than my balls have.� �Seriously?� �Yeah, seriously, you dumbass!� �That�s �jackass�, actually.� �Smartass.� �That�s better.� Smith tilted his head down to kiss Cricket, continuing to stroke both of his mitts up and down her cock. �But they�re the dumbasses. I didn�t know you had any of this until ten minutes ago, and you�ve only gotten more adorable since then.� Cricket blushed in the light of the illusory glaciers surrounding them. �I guess I�m the unfair one then,� she grinned. �I knew exactly what you had.� �Really? I should sue my pants supplier. They said it was guaranteed to smooth and minimize.� �Some of us just have a good eye for this kinda thing,� she said airily. Smith allowed his hands to roam more freely. Cricket�s head lolled back and she moaned loudly when his fingers trailed up her belly and swirled around the dainty nubs of her nipples. �Mmmm, aren�t you sensitive,� he rumbled, leaning down to nuzzle the golden ruff of fur below her neck. �Ffffff,� she groaned in agreement, gripping Smith�s cock hard with one hand and the base of her own with the other. �Someday I�ll h-h-have real ones.� �Oohhh, nice,� Smith said, shifting his weight to allow his equine muzzle to drift down to her belly. �Would you still, you know� wear the ball-bra?� �Probably,� she replied through clenched teeth, squirming slightly. �Doc figures I could get four or five thousand CC tits without affecting the look.� �Mmmmmmm,� Smith whinnied approvingly, pressing his lips to the base of her glossy-smooth spire. It was markedly thicker than her thigh, and at this distance he could see the veins pulsing violently and hear her sac churning and growing larger. �And� all this?� �Yeah, he figures I can add a couple thousand CCs down there, too.� Smith froze. �Wha�?� A playful slap upside the back of his head shook him out of his confusion. �You dumbass,� Cricket said playfully, rolling her hips. �No, I�m keeping all of it. I never hated my body, I just felt it was� uncooperative.� Smith kissed his way to the very tip of her cock, which was freely leaking a stream of clear precum. Cricket�s breath came faster and faster, her eyes wide, her ears flattening against her cute bob of hair. When he finally pulled away, her shaft slammed against her body, just as wide as her waist but barely reaching to her collarbones. �Damn,� Smith breathed, licking his lips. �You�re so small, but so� big.� �Story of my life,� Cricket grinned, unabashedly stroking herself, her paw looking especially small against her straining flesh. �So now I guess the big question is� what do we do now?� Smith�s ears perked up. �I mean,� he drawled, �I can think of a COUPLE things�� �I know, everyone does, but� look, I�m a tanuki. Whatever you think I can do, whatever you think THESE can do,� she said emphatically, patting her balls which were now starting to grow beyond the edge of the platform. �Trust me, you�re severely underestimating things.� �Promise?� Smith challenged. Cricket rolled her eyes. �You�re cute,� she sighed. �And stubborn.� �Story of my life,� he retorted, gently massaging the underside of her shaft, causing the whole thing to sway back and forth across Cricket�s chest. Her urethral bulge flexed and swelled beneath his palm, audibly creaking as it tightened beyond anything Smith had ever experienced from a living person. �Are you even going to fit in your sweater after this? Or your ball-bra?� The tanuki sighed, surveying herself. �Maybe? I didn�t really think I�d get this big.� Smith gripped the back of the cart and slowly rose to his hooves. The tunnel around them was now a golden valley winding its way between a chain of steaming, roiling volcanoes, pink and blue auroras dancing high overhead. �Then it seems the least I can do is help you blow off some steam,� he said nobly. Cricket smirked up at him. �Hey, can�t say I didn�t warn you,� she giggled, tweaking the flare of his erection. �What did you have in mind, little donk?� She squeaked in surprise, and no small amount of delight, when Smith turned around and swung a leg across her ever-expanding balls. He swayed a little unsteadily as the cart rolled along, his long athletic legs spread wide, straddling Cricket�s own spread legs. His powerful rump and haunches bounced in front of Cricket�s eyes, his modestly-shaggy tail lifting and flicking invitingly. �Mmmmf,� she huffed, dragging her blunted claws up the insides of his thighs, caressing the swaying bulk of his balls. Smith shuddered and whinnied again. �You�re gonna ruin me.� �Awww, I was about to say that,� Smith said over his shoulder. He bent at the waist to rest his palms against her sac, shocked at how full her balls had become. Heat radiated off of them, vibrating aggressively against his hands. �God damn, girl�� �They like you,� Cricket giggled, nipping at Smith�s rump with her teeth. Her fingers traced higher, slicking themselves on her leaking cock before gently massaging between his cheeks. �I like you, too.� He shuddered as one finger entered him, then two, then three, massaging her precum into his tailhole. His cock jerked, dripping onto her fuzzy orbs. His own melon-sized balls rest atop hers, making him feel small for the first time. He felt a moment of trepidation but shoved it aside. �I�d say �be gentle�, but I think that ship has sailed,� he managed, trying to sound casual. �Hey, I�m on the bottom here,� she pointed out. She gripped his hips, guiding him back with one paw while pushing her aching pillar forwards, angling herself. �You know, I don�t think anyone�s reverse cowgirled me since the Junior Nationals.� �Do I want to know how that ended?� Smith whickered, feeling the tip of her shaft coming to rest against his backside, as round and hard as a bowling ball. �Well, I was a lot smaller then,� Cricket giggled in an offhanded way. �But he was a lot smaller than you, so maybe I�m just splitting hares.� �Is that a bunny joke?� �I assure you, he took me very seriously.� �This is getting a little meta.� Cricket�s paw slipped around to grip the base of Smith�s ropey tail, giving him a playful yank. �You ready up there?� Smith responded by bending at the knees, lowering himself onto her. Almost immediately he felt the weight disappearing from his hooves, his body more balanced on her pre-slicked cock than not. He whinnied again, shaking his shaggy head, urging himself to relax. His legs flexed once, lifting himself an inch before dropping back down again. Cricket clearly had more experience with this sort of situation. Gripping the root of his tail as though changing gears in a hot rod, she bucked her hips straight up and yanked him straight down. They cried out as one voice, Smith�s hips straining in protest as the dainty tanuki rammed her glans into his hole. Smith flailed for a moment before hunching forwards, leaning his hands against Cricket�s balls, his hooves dancing and rattling against the metal platform. His lungs pumped like bellows, in and out, in and out, feeling a bloom of heat in his abdomen that already seemed to be pressing on his lungs. �F-f-f-fuck,� Cricket wheezed, running her paws over the donkey�s quivering thighs, his poor hips, the tense muscles of his back. �You still with me, big boy?� �Oh my gods, yes,� Smith said, barely a whisper. His tail lashed, and one shaking hand reached back to squeeze one of her wandering paws. �Th-that�s the hard p-part� I think�� �Mmmmm, it�s all the hard part,� she giggled, tracing her free fingers around his tailhole, marvelling at how well he was taking her. �Easy does it, hoss, easy does it.� �At least� you�re not using� bronco busting jokes�� �I was saving those for aftercare,� Cricket said, digging her fingers into his hips once more. She rocked her hips in a steady rhythm, giving Smith a tug on the downstroke. Each pump shoved another half inch inside him, made all the more difficult by her steadily increasing girth. �Almost halfway, sweetie�� Smith was wordless, gritting his teeth against the improbable strain even as the sensations threatened to overwhelm him with ecstasy. His equine shaft jerked and flexed with each stroke, feeling his orgasm being brute forced but also simultaneously defeated by Cricket�s size. �Closer� closer�� Her paws crept around his body, feeling his bulging belly and the outline of her cock against his abs. �OK, sweetie, this is going to happen all at once. Deep breath and� unnfff!!� Hugging her arms around his waist, she slammed him down just as he passed her widest point. He landed in her lap with a distinctly feline yowl, the final twelve inches of her cock ploughing straight against his sternum. His modestly-hyper sac was pinned against her colossally larger balls, filling his own lap and pointing his cock straight up. His arms flailed and his whole body twitched once, twice� and then he was climaxing, more violently than he could ever remember, as much as he was capable of remembering in the moment. Each eruption sent more than a gallon straight up, splashing against the inner curve of the tunnel hard enough to make the illusions shake. Crystal palaces limned with flame, curving and leaping beneath pink and azure skies, now seemed to be dripping rainbows behind them as the cart moved along. Cricket twitched each time as well, Smith�s internal muscles clamping down on her with crushing force. Ten, twenty, thirty� she lost count, more than a little impressed at the �little� hyper�s virility and stamina! Droplets rained down on them, sweet and musky, as the donkey�s orgasm was pushed beyond his normal limits by the sheer amount of tanuki flesh grinding against his insides. In true tanuki fashion, she continued to grow from the stimulation, thick enough now that his flanks were straining to contain it all. When he finally started to flag, resting his elbows on her ever-expanding balls, the scene had changed to another night time panorama where the cart seemed to be part of a parade. String lights were festooned from charming adobe buildings, vague but colorful onlookers clapping and cheering and throwing flowers. �Thank you,� Smith wheezed, weakly raising a hand. �Thank you�� Cricket laughed, wiping her brow and licking his seed from her whiskers. �Oh, I am definitely being on top next time.� �Y-yay�� She wanted to let him rest, but she knew roughly how much longer the Tunnel of Love ride had. She was already dreading the conversation she was going to have with the art collective in the morning, but on the plus side, Freeport was fully insured for hyper incidents such as this. They were just rounding the furthest turn and starting to trundle back towards the exit, and she didn�t want what happened next to damage any more of the Midway than it had to. Moving with the strength that only hypers really possessed, the petite tanuki rocked her hips up and down once more. She was shifting Smith�s entire weight as well as her own balls, which were close to five feet across each. Slumped forwards as he was with his arms spread wide, Smith was resting his muzzle in the taut valley between her orbs, giving them affectionate kisses as they continued to fill with desire. �This is going to be a lot, isn�t it?� he asked, nosing at a vein that swelled from thumb thick to wrist thick under his ministrations. �Mmmmmf� yes,� Cricket said, feeling the pressure leaking from her sac and into the complicated vascular system at the base of her cock. One by one, valves were overwhelmed, slamming open like vault doors. �Boys have survived this in the past, yes?� �Oh, d-don�t be so d-dramatic�� �That�s not a yes!� �It�s not a no, either,� Cricket purred, gripping his jacket-clad shoulders and kneading. �Wh-whatever happens, I want you to know� I really like you, and I�d like to see you again sometime�� Smith stiffened suddenly, another intense wave of growth passing through Cricket�s endowment. This one felt different, though. Before, she would expand and recede gently, expand and recede. This time, there was only more of her, her cock somehow managing to swell even thicker from the base straight up to the tip. With a searing splash of heat he felt her trickle of pre suddenly become a steady, powerful flow. His belly began to round out, pushing against his semi-erect cock and soon against her balls. �Uhm� already running out of room here�� �S�fine,� Cricket grunted, bucking more insistently now. �I know what I�m d-doing, kind of. Lean b-back�� Smith did as he was instructed. �You sure? I don�t wanna squish you,� he managed, his tongue lolling out. He leaned back to squeeze Cricket�s hip, his other hand cradling the expanding curves of his belly. Her shaft was like a steel bollard inside him, and the further back he leaned, the more dramatic its bulging outline became. He felt her lips on the back of his neck just as the shift in angle crushed his prostate against her thrusting girth, and he cried out as another orgasm washed away conscious thought. �Ohhhhh, th-that�s not h-h-helping-g-g-g,� Cricket whined as Smith�s inner muscles rhythmically clenched around her. His balls clenched as he erupted again, more gallons of seed splashing against the sides of the tunnel. Even through the haze, Smith could feel his legs being forced further apart by Cricket�s expanding sac. He�d gotten used to their slow, inexorable growth, but this was much more dramatic, great rumbling throbs adding multiple inches to their diameter. Given their current size, he knew that was dozens of gallons in volume, and if she produced as much compared to her size as HE did� �M-maybe we should-� He never got to finish his sentence. Cricket�s nubbed claws dug into his upper arms, clutching him tightly to her chest as her hips rose one final time, trying to bury the last fraction of her length in his ass. He could actually feel the barely-restrained bulge of her first surge of seed moving through her, through them both, reaching her tip with an exquisite shiver. They both paused there, balanced on the cusp, holding back for one more breath. Cricket clamped her muzzle on the back of Smith�s neck, her teensy teeth holding on for dear life as she lost all control. Smith was no stranger to romance with other hypers. They did tend to pair up, being able to clearly spot one another quite easily and being fairly confident they would be more understanding and knowledgeable about the whole �size� situation. His last grrlfriend had actually been just as well endowed than he, a slender but towering laquine on the varsity basketball team. On their third date, shi had pinned him in bed and pumped him up so full he couldn�t even fit through the doors in his apartment. Cricket�s first release filled him up larger than that. His shirt ripped almost instantly as his belly expanded from pregnant to completely filling his arms, bumping against her sac and rising up to his chin. He gasped, expecting to be stretched tight and shocked to find his hands sinking several inches into his swollen grey-furred abdomen. He became acutely aware of his ring straining around her shaft, keeping himself sealed, and a tremendous pressure that seemed to be working its way up his spine. Well, that wasn�t so- He never got to finish his thought. With her second gush, his belly rose up against his muzzle, forcing his arms out wide. Her third was larger than the first two combined, his belly now pushing his face to the side; clearly she was still building up to her full production. Out of the corner of his eye, showing white around the rim, he could see Cricket pinned beneath him. Her eyes were squeezed shut, a dopey grin plastered on her dainty snout, one paw worked through her bob of hair and yanking with each new eruption. Darkness enveloped them as Smith continued to loudly and roundly fill, expanding well beyond the edges of the Tunnel Of Love cart. With a cronch of protesting steel, his next weighty expansion ground the rolling platform to a stop. Smith inhaled, with some difficulty considering the pressure against his diaphragm, to ask Cricket about what she planned to do if they got stuck. Another explosion of seed inside him and he felt his flanks bump up against the sides of the tunnel. The sudden compression smushed his belly against his face again, and his eyes bugged out in alarm. He managed a loud, querulous moan, reaching back to grip Cricket�s hip and try to get through her orgasmic haze. �S�fine,� Cricket gasped in between fully-body convulsions. �The tunnel�s made of ooooohhhhh fffffffffffffuck made of fiber board...� She bucked again, somehow managing to shift Smith and his several tonnes of cream filling several inches, sending his entire spherical form wobbling. He was positive that her cock was still somehow growing, straining wider with her ever-increasing flow, stretching his poor hole tighter and tighter. His arms, still clad in his varsity jacket, scrambled against his inflating body as though he were losing his balance. Like most boys, he�d imagined being in this situation, but the reality was a great deal more disorienting, which wasn�t made any less confusing by the shifting panoply of projected illusions that were now being portrayed onto his pelt. Another tanuki emission so powerful he felt it blast against the furthest curve of his pumped-up insides, and his belly button bumped up against the ceiling of the tunnel. Darkness fell around them as more and more projectors were either blocked or disconnected. He could feel bulk-ordered fiber board and wooden scaffolding squeezing him from all directions now, but another amorous thrust from Cricket banished any thoughts that it might stop his expansion. �Hnnnggg???� he asked, squeezing her hip again. �Yeeeeeeah,� she whimpered, one paw stroking his stretched hide and the other massaging the base of her cock. �My bad�� Their breathing became synchronized to her endless climax. With a grunt and a sigh, Smith�s belly burst the confines of the tunnel as though shrugging off a light shawl. The flimsy construction collapsed politely around them, revealing the interior of the former yacht club. Open timber trusses were festooned with string lights, the great hall barren of everything but the materials that had been used to make the tunnel ride. Another shared breath and Smith reached the timber trusses, his bloating body finally starting to creak in mild protest against the forces of tension. The creaking of the roof structure was considerably louder, though still a second place for Smith�s concern. He knew how big the yacht club was, and how it had stood on this location in some form or another since before he was born. Was he really going to- A gasp and a moan, a crunching and a snapping, and Smith was being pressed down against Cricket with considerably more force. The couch part of the platform splintered and almost flattened beneath them, but Cricket didn�t seem discomforted in the slightest, still wriggling and writhing beneath him in the throes of ecstasy. �Hmmmpph!� Smith hiccuped, feeling her roiling seed desperately searching for another exit, any way to ease the skyrocketing pressure inside his body. Cricket�s little paw slipped up his body, encircled his muzzle, and squeezed gently. He felt her lips press against his cheek, her tiny teeth chewing tenderly on one floppy ear. �Go with it,� she said, barely a whisper. �Trust� the tanuki�� He trusted her, but it was his own mortal body that was causing his anxiety. His belly expanded to fill more of the yacht club great hall, until he could distinctly feel three sets of rafters pressing into his flesh. Then four. Then five. More and more of the aged parquet floor was covered by his belly. He could also distinctly feel Cricket�s balls pressing into him, still immensely full and fertile and forcing his legs wide apart, but increasingly small compared to his blimping body. With a reverberating, grinding series of cracks and pops, Smith�s flattening figure became spherical once more, splitting the timber trusses like playing cards and shoving the roof assembly aside as though it weighed nothing. Cool sea air wafted against the furthest acres of his tummy tufts, his fur thinning to the point his overflowing hide was more pink than grey. Trust the tanuki! He thought madly, feeling Cricket�s paws kneading at his hardening belly. How much does she trust my structural integrity?! �At least we were aaaAAAaaaa-aimed back at the entrance,� Cricket said, trying to calmly explain the situation while still expelling thousands of gallons of cum into the helpless donkey. �They won�t see us on this si-iiiIIIIIIiiiii-de of your tummy�� �They�ll see ME!� �Shh shh shh shh, it�s fi-i-i-i-ine�� As Smith grew, filling the entirety of the pier point and completing the long-overdue demolition of the yacht club, he both drew the attention of the other Midway patrons and scared the young crow ticket taker nearly out of his feathers. He squawked indignantly, seeing his extremely part-time job disintegrating, and flapped off at a brisk jog to explain how absolutely none of this was his fault. The ancient creosote-soaked timber piles supporting the pier were groaning in protest. The sides of Smith�s body extended well beyond the railings now, looking increasingly like a greyish-pink balloon balanced on smaller and smaller popsicle-stick bridges. Folks were rushing up, cameras raised and various streaming apps engaged; this was Freeport, after all, and the occasional catastrophic fwoomping was considered a sign of a vibrant social scene. Smith was beset by hiccups, his poor lungs fighting for breath as his skin passed drum-tight and became more steel-drum tight. Even so, sprawled out on his back, a deliriously dippy Cricket still pinned beneath him, he was aware that a drone was orbiting his inflating sphere. �Shoulda done thiiissssSSSSSSssssss on dry land,� Cricket huffed, burrowing her little muzzle into Smith�s neck. �That�s my ffffffffff-fault�� �Only that?!� �Oh, you hush,� the tanuki giggled, her explosive releases finally slowing down to mere thunderous flows. �You backed that thing up on m-m-m-me�� Smith did have to admit she had a point. He found out she was not just a tanuki, but a particularly virile tanuki, and his first instinct was to speed-run home base. Whelp. He made his bed, now he had to lie under it. His shoulders creaking in protest in harmony with the timber piles, he slid his arm back along his too-tight belly until he reached her paw, squeezing it tightly. �N-next time� p-pinball�� he wheezed. �Oooo, you sure?� she giggled. �I get competitive.� �Bloody� hell�� Eventually, Cricket�s hyperness petered out, leaving Smith the largest offshore structure in Freeport for the next twelve hours. More drones joined the first. By midnight, movies were being projected into his pelt, while locals brought folding chairs and popcorn vendors wheeled their mobile carts over to take advantage. No-one could get past Smith�s belly to the remains of the yacht club, except by boat, and while a few aquatic types did attempt some drive-bys, they couldn�t see up onto the boardwalk itself for clues as to the mystery couple. Smith�s anxiety faded, replaced by a suffusion of extreme contentment. Cricket�s breathing slowed until he worried she had simply fallen asleep beneath him, but her fingers crept around and squeezed his rump tenderly. �I should have warned you better,� she apologized, nuzzling his ear. �Yeah,� Smith agreed with a breathy chuckle. �But� I kinda asked for it.� �Yeah.� �Yeah� so.� �So?� �We�re� stuck here for a while, hmm?� Cricket wriggled, doing exciting things to Smith�s tailhole and almost rousing the both of them for another round. �Probably. I can�t really� you know, have sex in� conventional locations.� �Like the back of a Volkswagen?" �To name just one,� she giggled. �It just came over me tonight, you know? I had room�� �I barely did!� �Oh, you stretched like a pro,� she cooed, patting his marble-hard mass. �Hypers are adaptable.� �I�m barely a hyper!� �And I was barely trying,� Cricket said simply. �If we� try again, I might take you out to the family ranch in the hills. We�ve been, uhm� using it for generations.� �That�s heartwarmingly terrifying,� Smith said, feeling his body wobbling slightly and shifting as it somehow stayed balanced on the pier. When Cricket spoke next, the sly good humor was gone. �Do� do you want to see me again? I�ll understand if it�s a no, and no matter what, I want you to know that I really like you, and I didn�t mean to ruin the evening-� It took all of his remaining mobility, but Smith craned his neck around and silenced Cricket with his lips. He couldn�t reach back to caress her, but he flexed his internal muscles, those that were still obeying his brain, squeezing her intimately. �Coffee date first,� he said, his eyes still closed. �Then� maybe a camping trip to the hills, hmm?� �I love coffee.� �I love coffee, too.�