Mocker-Mock
The mockingbird, black, white, and grey (with the loopy-loop lumbering of a WW1 fighter plane), landed on a crooked limb (of, this, an oak tree). He was a virtuoso. Looking for new sounds to mimic ... mimic ... mocker-mock!
And, here, he found ...
... two furs!
On the ground, the furs. In the green grass. In the cool, fanning shade. On an April day (in a heat which passion made). Bare, they were, in this farmland ... in their rural way. Not a cell phone. Not a car. No distractions. Nothing to make them stray.
There was a mouse (a male mouse). Honey tan.
And there was a bat (a femme bat). Colored pink.
And, oh, what things they were working at!
Behind the house, this spot beneath this tree. In front of the pastures (fenced by low-lying electric fences). Across from the dusty gravel road (and the sloping alfalfa fields). Under a blue, cloud-spotted sky. The clouds the fluffy, puffy kind. Making them look like islands up there. Perhaps, the mocker thought, when I am done collecting new sounds ... I shall visit those sky-islands. Perhaps that is where heaven is found! Mocker-mock, he thought.
But, for now, the mockingbird, on his natural perch ... was not entranced by the beauty of the day. Or the prime (and the pulsing) of spring. But, rather, this sweaty, furry fling ...
... with the tangled limbs and grasping paws and pants and huffs. And all those good stuffs!
Neither could seem to get enough!
Mocker-mock, thought the mockingbird. (He often loved to think this.) And he listened to the sounds.
Sounds of ...
" ... mm ... mm ... "
Those must be pleasure moans, the mocker realized. The panting, eyes-closed kind ... the 'my tail's going limp' kind ... the curling toes kind.
"Uh ... uhn ... " A huff. "Huh!"
Pleasure groans, those ... mm ... the back-arching, open-muzzle kind. The 'clutch at fur desperately' kind. The 'I need a drink of water' kind ...
Groans and moans. And who was doing what? The mocker, to get a better look, peered down, unblinking ... too curious to be rationally thinking!
... rather, watching the mouse's furry, pert rump. And the motion of ...
... hump, hump ... hump!
So sturdy, the motion, of the mouse ... who was between the femme's legs. Lying on top of his obvious love. And her legs, they latched, and her arms ... were around his back. With such ease! They had obviously done this before ... though the mouse seemed shy, and ... she kept whispering into his ears. As if encouraging him.
And, oh, the mouse seemed to love her!
Perhaps, the mocker mused, pink furs are ... love? But the mouse isn't pink. His is earthy-hued. This, to the mocker, made no sense. In the bird world, the MALES were colorful. The females had the drab plumage. With these two furs, it was the opposite ...
... and the femme didn't seem to mind her mate's lack of bold coloring.
"Mm ... "
"Huh ... uh ... "
The mocker raptly memorized these sounds! He would soon be the envy of all birds! For these sounds .. Were of such pleasure. Such love. A good thing for sounds to be made of. Oh, he would sit on many a fence-post and tree-limb ... and sing, sing, sing.
And new sounds ...
... squeaks! Ooh, squeaks!
"Squeaky-squeak ... squeak ... "
Coming from the mouse. How cute! How light and airy, and ... how delicate. He squeaked more. His mouse-hood was inside the bat ... in a hot, wet space. And the mouse was moving himself in and out. Rocking his hips to hers (his mouse-hood, as it moved, making a squelching sound in her femininity ... a soft, sucking sound). The mouse was doing all this ... as if he couldn't help it. Squeaking ... as if he couldn't help it.
What is the bat doing to him, the mocker thought with a mental frown, that has got this rodent so helpless? But the bird only need watch ... to realize that the mouse was, yes, helpless. But WILLINGLY so. Oh ... the rodent's blue-grey eyes were half-open. Were glazed.
Huff-huff ...
The mocker was fascinated! He had never seen mammals ... making love. Never seen furs doing this. An educational lesson, to be sure. They looked quite pleased ...
"Squeak ... squeak ... "
The femme smiled. And countered with a chitter. Licking her dripping, readying fangs (with a slurp-slurp).
... squelch ...
Slurp!
"Chitter-chitter!"
"Squeak!"
"Chitter!"
" ... mm ... mmm ... "
" ... oh!"
In the background, the air conditioner in their bedroom window ... went hum-hum-hum ... hum-hum-hum ...
And the breeze breathed in the leaves in the trees.
And the bees buzzed and hovered among the pink and yellow tulips.
And the small propeller plains sporadically went through the sky, going, "Motor-motor!"
And varied songbirds.
And, somewhere, out there ... flowing creek water, and ...
... oh, the furs!
Louder, they got.
"Uh ... uh! Oh ... "
Slurp! The bat took to licking at his neck. Matting at his fur. Slurp-slurp. Lick ... lick ...
Sigh ...
Lick ...
Squelch!
B-b-bite!
"Uhn! Mm ... " The mouse quaked, eyes watering shut. With a heavy blink. Water-water.
"Mm ... mmm ... " The bat's fangs burying.
The mocker's eyes widened five-fold. She is BITING that male! He was ready to fly down there and stop her ... but ... the mouse didn't seem to be in pain. Rather, he seemed to be in MORE pleasure than before ... and she seemed to be sharing it. They seemed to share a certain air, now ... as if ... they were one fur. Feeling, reacting to the very same things ... in the very same ways. This was FAR beyond the mocker's comprehension. Furs are so strange, he thought ...
... but ... even so, he couldn't stop watching. They were so varied. So interesting.
Couldn't stop ...
... listening.
Listening.
Cries an' whimpers. Whimper ...
Pants an' huffs. Pant-pant ... tongues wetting fur. Saliva strings trailing. Her teeth still in his neck, and ...
... fur on fur. Fur on grass.
Paw groping rump (groping harder upon each hump).
Thin tail side-winding in the air, like a loose electrical wire.
Whiskers twitching.
Pink eyes opening, closing ...
Hump ... hump ... tight, furry sac lightly slapping between her spread legs. Where she was pinkest. Where her fur was shortest (and softest, like velvet). Flesh and muscle ...
The mouse writhing, almost wheezing ... but, in reality, engaged in high-pitched squeaking. Unable to stop. Higher pitches! Was this a sign of something ... it seemed to be ...
Echo-bursts! From her. Vibrating in the air. Bouncing off the mocker, and ... he froze. Froze. She knows I'm here!
And she did, now, indeed ... now he was there ... her involuntary echo-bursts (sent out as knee-jerk reactions to her pleasure) ... they'd detected a mockingbird in the tree in whose shade they now made love. How curious, she thought. Mockingbirds have ... pretty ... songs ... ah, ah ...
"Ah ... ah ... "
The mocker relaxed. She wasn't going to shoo him away. Was going to let him stay ...
"Oh ... "
Grunts an' groans an' gasps. And grasps!
Stretches!
Sweating silently ... with each sigh. Sweaty sighs ... fur matted. Fur caressed. Fur glinting in the light.
Claws digging into dirt ... for purchase.
"Adelaide ... ah ... uh ... " Twitches.
Sighs! "Oh, Field ... "
Squeaks an' chitters ... an' ...
... ORGASM! Eye-squeezing, breath-stealing ... fireworks of pure, physical pleasure ... pleasure. Satisfaction. Emotional, loving reaction!
Spasms. Twitches. Gurgles. Wriggles. Moans. Clutches.
Two furry bodies, male and female, entwined, sweating, rising, falling ... in shared intimacy. In this.
Oh, the mocker wished to clap his wings and ... sing his appreciation! What a performance! Oh, what a symphony they'd made!
Oh, what a flurry of furry fury (the GOOD kind of fury ... the out-of-control, passionate, lively type).
Breathe!
Breathe ...
... breathe ...
The mouse and bat seemed to settle. Seemed to quiet. Cuddling softly, weakly. Whispering, "I love you" to each other. Over and over. Swallowing. Gulping. Panting. Whispering more, "I love you's" ... and the nuzzling. Sniffing. Noses sniffing. Flaring. Breathing deep. They seemed to be wanting to fall asleep ... in each other's arms. In the growing daylight in the middle of this countryside. Good thing they were in the shade! The mocker wouldn't wish their pink noses and ears to get sunburned ... oh, but they were in their own, dreamy world. A world everyone dreamed of (daily) ...
They were in love. Purely. Happy.
Out of reach of society.
Beneath the blanket of creation. And the Almighty.
The mocker lingered, but then ... alight! He launched, and swooped away, ringing out mimics of frogs and crickets and cardinals and orioles and ... mouses and bats (and ALL their happy sounds). Before today, he'd never realized ...
... furs can be virtuosos, too!