FSE

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“Of all the fucking luck,” Laika snarled as a relentless wall of radioactive sand surged toward her.

The storm was yet another misfortune to add to her truly soul-destroying list. She cranked her bike's throttle, sending vibrations surging through her thighs. There had to be somewhere she could wait this out, but there wasn't much time until the dark cloud swallowed her up.

In the distance, a queer light caught the coyote's eye through her helmet visor. It was neon, clearly, but not quite like the gas stations she sometimes ran into. As she approached, the heat haze dissipated. A bus stood on its own in the wasteland, surrounded by cheerful decorations. Guess that would have to do.

—

The fox looked up from his tattered MADNESS Magazine (that he had read front to back hundreds of times) as a female coyote wearing biker leathers shouldered her way into the bar, followed by a torrent of wind and sand.

“Help me close this fucking door!” she shouted as she wrestled with the rusty steel slab. Its hinges screamed.

Walterio vaulted over the counter and joined the stranger, socking his shoulder against the door. He could smell her sweat as they pressed it closed against the raging gale. Finally, it clacked against the frame. Laika slammed the deadbolt home and slumped.

“Sorry about the mess,” she panted.

“No problem!” Walterio chuckled, pointing at the mostly-buried welcome mat beneath their feet. “Just be sure to wipe your feet before coming in!” He gave the joke a moment to cook before tossing his head back and cackling. “Hilarious!”

Laika’s face remained stony. She pointed to the counter. “You got any drinks behind there?”

Walterio skipped over to the counter and vaulted back over, landing butt-first in his seat. “Tada!” he cried, hoping it would cheer the scowling lady up. No dice. “Anyhow…I got some basic booze. Tequila. Whiskey. Got some soda to cut it with, but it's flatter than a sailcat! Haha!”

“Whiskey. Straight,” Laika grumbled, sidling up to the counter and leaning on it.

The fox looked down at the gun hidden beneath the countertop, and then at the one in the female's holster. Folks like them typically didn't draw down unless birds showed up, but these were desperate times. And this bitch’s soul was as hard as stone. Who knew what she was capable of? A drink might mellow out the situation, even if his comedy stylings didn't. Walterio tossed the bottle of whiskey up into the air from behind his back, caught it in one hand, and wrenched the cork out with his teeth before spitting it onto the far side of the counter. He slid a pair of highball glasses onto it and poured out a couple of fingers for the two of them.

“Got a supplier that swears he steals this stuff from bars Where the Birds Live. Tastes like gasoline. Smells like it too. Maybe it is! Maybe we'll try it in your bike! Hilarious!” Walterio proclaimed, tapping his glass against hers and raising it in a half-hearted toast. “To new friends! Name's Walterio!”

The coyote pondered her response for a second, staring at her drink. “Laika,” she said simply, and downed the entire glass before pushing it toward him.

He poured her some more. “Bar hasn't been here long, and you're my first customer! Not my first paying one, though! Haha!”

“Got bird guts in my bike saddle if you want those,” Laika shrugged.

“Hell of a currency! I don't see it catching on, though!” Walterio chuckled uncertainly before sipping his drink.

The two sat in silence for a while as the sand crackled against the trailer's exterior. Laika scanned the room. There wasn't much to it. Not that the fox could be blamed. Everything was hard to come by these days. It was a miracle he had so much alcohol. And here she was drinking it for free. In one corner, a lonely card table covered in battered green velvet sat surrounded by chairs made of stacked crates.

“Blackjack?” Laika asked, pointing at the table. If she was going to drink his precious whiskey, the least she could do was entertain her host.

“Always!” Walterio barked, leaping back over the counter and bounding over to a seat. He patted the table. “Ante up! Managed to find a deck of 51! Just missing the two of hearts!”

The coyote made her way to the opposite chair and then sat, propping her chin up on one hand and swirling her glass with the other. “What're we playing for?”

“Got bottle caps to use as chips!” Walterio suggested. “But…that's a bit dull, huh? How about…truth or dare? Could be hilarious!”

“Fucking hell,” Laika groaned, rolling her eyes. “Like a pup's first sleepover. But fine. Your house, your booze, your rules.”

Cards slid from Walterio’s agile hands. 10 and 9 for Laika. The fox snickered as he revealed his Jack and Ace.

“House wins!” he crowed. “So, doggy…why are you so down? Truth!”

Laika looked at her glass for a moment before she tipped it back into her maw all at once. “I'm not a fucking dog, for one. And as for why I'm down…” the coyote trailed off. She couldn't burden him with the story of her dead children. Not for the sake of some fucking game. She sidestepped to a section of the truth that was interesting, but not soul-crushing. “I'm past 40 now. Mom's demanding that I have one more kid for reasons that are…complicated. But this world is so fucked, I don't know that…you know, I should.”

“Then don't!” Walterio replied, shrugging. “What's it to your mom? She ain't the one who has to push it out!”

“It's complicated. Your turn is over. Deal,” Laika growled.

After favoring her with a bemused glance, the fox dealt again. 9 and 4 for Laika. 10 and 9 for Walterio. She tapped the table and received one more card. A King.

“Hilarious!” Walterio shouts, sweeping the cards back into the deck. “Okay, so, got a man? Can't have a baby without one of those!”

Her mind drifted back to Jacob, the hotheaded jackass who had given her Iris, Ava, and Mila–along with countless nights of relative comfort in this diseased land. But after all three of them died, he'd had enough of her. Jacob took reckless, dangerous missions as if he didn't have a son who needed him. Fucking hothead.

“Did. Not anymore,” Laika replied. “Is this you hitting on me?”

“Haha! Win a hand, and you can ask me!” Walterio replied, dealing.

Ace and Queen for Laika. Fucking finally. An idea began to form in her mind. A crazy, stupid idea…but not one without merit. Males who lived in her village came with baggage. She had to see them every day. See the pain and grief in their eyes. This stranger didn't need to be a part of her life, regardless of what happened.

“Alright, fox,” the coyote sighed, tapping her winning hand. “Dare. I want to see you naked.”

Shock erased the male's smile, but only for a second. It returned quickly, with a vengeance. “Alright! Rules are rules! Kinda expected you to ask why I'm so happy all the time! Most people do! Hilarious!”

Laika shrugged and leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. “Fucked if I care.”

“Well, the thing is, everything in this world is shit and getting worse,” Walterio said, pulling off his wifebeater and revealing his slender chest and belly. “The only thing a guy has in a place like this is dignity!” he continued, kicking off his tasseled boots. “So I decided to laugh in the world's face, all the way up to the end!” he concluded, dropping his pants and kicking them to the side. He shook his hips back and forth, making his dick swing from side to side. “Everything you dreamed? Want me to do a sexy dance? Haha!”

“Adequate. Sit down,” Laika replied, tapping the table in front of her.

“Suit yourself!” Walterio grunted, plopping his naked butt down and reaching for the cards once more.

3 and 6 for Laika. 11 and 8 for Walterio. She tapped. A 4. She tapped again. A Joker. Fuck.

“Hilarious!” the fox chortled. “Alright. I feel kinda dumb being the only naked one here. So…”

Laika grimaced and stood up, tossing off her thick coat and bandana. She wore an olive wifebeater of her own underneath, which soon fluttered down next to his. How long has it been since she'd shown her breasts to someone? It always kind of amused her how a male's eyes would lock on with laser focus as all the blood left their brain.

“Don't ask about the scars,” Laika muttered, looking down at the thickened, furless flesh that occasionally sliced across her body. “Fucked if I'm going to tell you about them.”

“S-Sure,” Walterio choked.

She dragged her boot heels against the floor until they pulled free of her feet, snapped open her belt, and shoved her pants and tattered panties down–aware of the weight of her breasts as they hung free. After kicking them away, she took her seat again without giving the male a chance to get a good look. At first, she crossed her arms over her tits. Then she thought “fuck it” and dropped her hands to the table, tapping a finger twice against it.

Walterio dealt without saying anything. An Ace and Queen for her. A 10 and a 2 for him. The two of hearts.

“Hah! Thought I'd lost that card…hilarious…”

Laika stared at him for a moment that seemed to stretch on for eons. Once again, the only sound was sand pelting glass and metal. Then she was up, crawling across the table and sending cards flapping to the floor. Her muzzle met his and opened. Her tongue assaulted his with passionate strokes that tasted of cheap whiskey. It wasn't long before his hand was stroking behind Laika's ears, moans emerging from his throat. At last, she pulled back and looked down at him. The fox’s face looked like an angel had just descended from the heavens to…well…show him her tits and make out. His cock wasn't swinging anymore. It was throbbing up toward the ceiling, its length gently curved. Great. No need for further foreplay.

The coyote scooted her butt forward toward the edge of the table, allowing her legs to hang over. Walterio watched, enraptured, as she spread them.

“Assume you know what this is for,” Laika asked, pointing at her crotch.

“Uh…yeah, well…haha,” Walterio mumbled, as if he were talking in his sleep. “Do you want me to…lick it or anything?”

Laika rolled her eyes. “I've been riding for most of a fucking day. I haven't bathed in twice that long. You don't want that. Just spit on it and stick it in.”

Walterio held his palm up to his mouth and produced truly pathetic sputtering noises as he tried to wet it. At last, he gave up and smiled meekly. “I…uh…seem to be all out.”

The coyote said nothing. She grimaced, spat thick saliva into her palm, leaned forward, and smeared it over the warm flesh of the fox’s sex. Admittedly, the feeling of a dick in her hand sent a tingling sensation through her belly. No matter how much the world had beaten her down, there was still something resembling lust buried beneath all the trauma and scar tissue. Nurturing that little ember wasn't her purpose here, though.

“Holy shit…haha,” Walterio moaned as she pulled him by the cock toward her.

Laika leaned back and relaxed her body. “It's all yours.”

“Alright, here goes.”

Warmth pressed between her vulva. Too high at first, before sliding down to where it needed to be. Apparently, the whimsical fox hadn't much experience. Not that this was surprising. There was barely anyone left to fuck on this ravaged planet. He eased in, filling a void in her that made Laika feel so wonderfully complete.

“Like warm apple pie, haha!” Walterio choked out. “That's uh…from an old movie. I don't know if you…”

“Shut up. Fuck,” Laika growled, clenching down on him. It was both an expression of exasperation and an order.

Walterio followed it.

Leaning back, the coyote relaxed and listened to the sound of his length pressing into her. She could smell herself as he stirred her insides, but she highly doubted that the fox cared. Most males didn't, in her experience. Being as jaded as she was had a way of numbing insecurity. Still, she wasn't numb to the pleasure of having someone inside her for the first time in too long. She could feel blood surging into her nipples and warming her crotch. Blood had brought so much misery into her life. This pleasure was the least it could do to repay her.

Walterio leaned forward as he thrust, his long arm reaching. The fox's hand slid across her belly before cupping over the slightly sagging mound of her breast.

“Is that okay?” he asked, gently scissoring a nipple between his fingers.

“Yeah, sure. Squeeze a little harder, maybe,” Laika breathed, surprising herself a little. The whine that emerged when he complied surprised them both.

“Oh fuck, ‘yote…You're amazing,” Walterio wheezed, his thrusts quickening. “Not gonna last, haha.”

He would have said that to any female offering him pussy, probably. Still, it made her feel…fuck…normal? Young? Laika couldn't say for sure, but she was feeling something good again. Something that wasn't crushing grief or furious anger.

“Don't gotta impress me,” Laika said, pressing her strong thighs into the fox’s waist. “Just cum in me.”

“Wait, inside?!” he wheezed.

“You fucking heard me,” she snarled, before realizing the poor male was starting to get skittish. She'd have to lay it on thick with the guy to defeat his better judgment. “Look…I told you. I'm probably too old to get pregnant anyway,” she lied, pressing his hand into her tit. “But the idea that I could…it's fucking hot, fox. I want you to fill me the fuck up. Empty those young balls in me, now!”

“Oh shit, lady. Oh fuck…haha,” Walterio grunted, his hips shuddering and undulating against her grasping legs. “Oh my God, you're the best.”

Walterio's jowls lifted, showing his clenched vulpine teeth as every muscle in his body worked in tandem to force semen out. He sheathed himself fully, pouring out all that he had into her as she clenched around him. Soon her body’s warm twitching became too much for his oversensitive tip, and he yanked himself free. The fox staggered to a nearby wall and leaned against it, his penis steadily dripping onto the dusty floor.

“Holy shit,” Walterio panted, grinning over at her. “Your cooch looks like a canoli. Hilarious!”

“Fuck off,” Laika groaned, slapping a hand between her legs and sliding off the edge of the table to her feet. She definitely felt one hell of a mess down there.

“Hey, uh…you told me to,” Walterio reminded her, wiping his dick on his discarded shirt.

“Fucked if I'm complaining about it,” she replied, pulling on her pants and undershirt. She sat down on the crate again. “Deal another hand.”

“Haha. Don't know if there's any dare that's gonna beat that,” Walterio chuckled, putting on his own trousers (but ignoring his soiled shirt). “But sure, I'm game!”

The rest of the evening passed in relative silence. Only the occasional vulpine chuckle and the slapping of cards on velvet interrupted the constant drone of the sandstorm outside. At last, Walterio dropped his losing hand to the table and asked a question.

“Did we just make a mistake, lady? I mean…really. This ain't no world for kids.”

Laika frowned. A strange warmth filled her belly. It was a warmth she'd felt before, as her previous puppies had begun their tragic journeys within her magic-cursed body. There was no mistaking it. A puppy. Puppy.

“No,” Laika replied. “Now I dare you to get me a fucking drink.”