FSE

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Whenever anybody asked Victoria if she wanted to go to the carnival, she said yes without hesitation. There was so much to do, and so many opportunities for mischief and naughtiness. But she never planned to make a nuisance of herself, and in fact she never planned to do much of anything. Things just kind of happened, and bewildered people and scrapbook-worthy events followed in her wake.

The Lankett boy was being a pretty good date so far. She paid the admission for both them before he could get out his wallet and she held him close as they walked, the disparity of their sizes making him look like one of the cuddly toys clutched under the arms of younger, fitter girls and sugar-buzzed children.

Desmond Lankett pressed against her willingly, finding her large and plump body pleasant on a chilly fall night. He thought she was a great date. She had a sense of humor like a man and always shared her snacks with him, and she snacked a lot. Desmond thought he could subsist on the crumbs she left in the grass. He haltingly joked as much, testing the water, and she brayed with laughter, bits of funnel cake spewing from her lips. She ruffled his hair and almost knocked him over.

"Hey," she said, swallowing sharply before going on, "we should hit up the Ferris wheel. Like, make out on it like the other couples do. Or you can feel my tit if you want."

On the ride up in the creaking steel basket, his flank on Victoria's and the back of his neck in her swampy armpit, Desmond was insulated from the growing cold. He rubbed her massive thigh and sheepishly said, "Were you kidding about--? You know, kissing? I mean, I kinda... sorta thought you might be a dyke."

The fat, black beaver laughed, shaking the cart. She hawked and spat indiscriminately over the edge. Like waiting for the detonation at the end of the whistle, she waited, and waited, and then laughed again. "I think I got the operator, sweet." Squeezing Desmond suddenly, she said, "Oh, you mean like a lez-bo? I mean, I do that, sure, but I really like dick." Charming in her nonchalance, she lifted up her sweater and the great, red cups of her bra gleamed a little in the moonlight.

Desmond awkwardly fondled the beaver, his paw covering very little ground on her huge tit. "You're an interesting girl."

Like Desmond touching her breast but much more openly, Victoria grabbed his crotch and started on his zipper and button with chunky fingers. "Thanks. Hey, betcha a deep-fried Twinkie I can make you cum before the ride stops."

Victoria leaned heavily over Desmond, her thick sausage fingers gliding on his small cock. She breathed into his ears, the subtle but constant mouth-breathing of the truly obese, but her chubby digits and smooth pelt felt pleasant to Desmond just like she enjoyed his fluffy, skinny body.

Their cart reached the apogee of the wheel, halting briefly as all the others had. As it shuddered to a stop Desmond closed his fingers tightly around Victoria's breast, fondling her under the cup of her bra. He nuzzled her neck.

"Are you gonna cum?" she huffed in his ear. "You gonna squirt? Your dick feels pretty nice." Stroke, stroke, stroke, black fur blurry in the darkness, the brilliant lights of the carnival stretching beneath like fireflies on a hazy pond. "I bet you're gonna cum, you seem like it." She laughed. "Or do you wanna fuck me?"

"I--, what? H-here?" Desmond mumbled, red-cheeked.

"No-o-o, shit, not even I'm that crazy." Her paw didn't stop. As their cart started down the curve, moving counterclockwise as one faced the wheel, she sped up her jerks and hoped the couple in the cart behind and above theirs could see and hear she and Desmond. It wasn't that she liked exhibitionism - her opinion of it was middling at best - but she loved to gross people out, shock their delicate sensibilities. If her fat jugs and a tiny dick in her fingers could make people gasp, it was a pretty good night for Victoria.

Desmond humped her fist awkwardly. He slipped his paw off the blubbery mass of her tit and grabbed her leg, fingers squeezing in toward the crook of her thighs which she obligingly parted. "Ooh, touch my cunt. Yeah, touch that." Her overbite bumped his ear and she exhaled sharply, making it flick. "Your cock is really small, I'd let you fuck my butt if you want. Wanna?"

The foxcoon grunted noncommittally. He clutched Victoria's cunt, groping her tightly through her slack and comfy sweat pants. "I'm gonna cum," he said into her neck, giving it a lick. "I like your webs."

Victoria giggled wildly, squeezing down hard with her armpit. "Yeah, inbreeding has its perks, huh?" She wiggled her tongue down into his ear as if giving him a Wet Willy without the middleman. Desmond shrieked and the beaver laughed, thrusting down her fist down so hard that Desmond's foreskin stretched far back, fully baring the pink meat of his glans.

The yank on his tender foreskin left Desmond pushing awkwardly into Victoria, wincing as much as he was huffing. Their cart inched forward, coming to a halt again, letting the couple at the peak of the wheel enjoy the view. Victoria guessed they had another minute before their cart was low enough for the masses to see what they were up to. She smooched the top of his head and pumped him hard. Her sweaty wet palm made armpit fart noises which she found intensely amusing.

Desmond dug his fingers into Victoria's groin, not so much rubbing her cunt as just squeezing and raking it with his blunt claws. He felt wetness, but she was a sweaty, fat girl and he didn't put much faith into his own abilities just then. Whether or not she was getting off was secondary to the fact that he was, anyway.

"Ooh, you're gonna cum. I can feel it," she huffed, squeezing down tight with her left arm, smearing her armpit sweat into his hair. She pinned one of his ears into his crown with her nose, breathing sordidly into it. "Mmh, c'mon, we got a couple seconds..."

The fox's legs pressed awkwardly together, toes sliding out into the nothingness past the basket floor. In a burst of inspiration, he thrust his paw under Victoria's sweat pants and squeezed her naked, sweating box like wringing juice from a piece of fruit. Although he was rough, she was receptive, bucking up from the seat and rocking the basket on its whining hinges. The turbulence made Desmond wince further into her fat body. Their cart was nearly to the bottom.

An instinctive fear of falling and a deep sense of modesty weren't enough to put the pin back in Desmond's grenade. He nuzzled down into her breasts, drooling against the curve of one as he shot. Her paw was so large and her grip so total that none of his cum escaped, instead filling in the creases between her fingers and the cups of her webs. She slowed when she felt the mess growing, still nosing into his hair.

The beaver let off of Desmond's cock, straightening out in her side of the bench seat. Clumsily, she pulled down her sweater with her clean paw, looking at the other one and the meager spiderwebs Desmond's semen formed between her fingers. She snickered and smeared it off on the safety bar.

Zipping up and red-faced, Desmond asked, "Um, did I get you off too?"

"Na-a-ah. Got me kinda wet though. Your fingers are pretty soft, like a girl's." She grabbed him again, pulling him tight like a teddy bear. Abruptly and with just a quarter-spin of the wheel to go, she tilted him back and thrust her lips against his. She slipped her tongue around her overbite and into his mouth, slopping it in deep, snaking it against his teeth and tongue and palate in clumsy strokes. She left him no room to kiss back, and that didn't bother her very much. She was such an aggressive kisser that she'd forgotten what it felt like to be kissed.

She saw Desmond's eyelids roll down like vinyl curtains and allowed herself the same gesture of pleasure. The beaver's licking was passionate and sloppy, but her handling of the fox was nearly utilitarian. She didn't pet him, just held him close to her huge body, making the smooth peaks of her breasts deform under the sweater. Her cunt throbbed, more wet than she had let on; Desmond's small, clothed cock rubbed on the tumult of fat under her sweater. He was hard again, courtesy of Victoria's plump tongue.

As the wheel lowered and the safety bar dropped, the operator - who looked quite miffed with a streak of wetness on the breast of his sports pullover - all but shooed Desmond and Victoria away, throwing up his arms like a loveless old man scaring kids from his porch. Victoria scampered, yanking Desmond off his feet effortlessly and laughing as she went.

"I guess I really did hit him with my slobber, awesome. Usually I just miss."

Feeling a bit like a ragdoll, Desmond pawed ineffectually at the beaver's arm. She put him down, but not before taking the opportunity to smooch him on his wet lips. "Hey, I smell pizza. You want to get some of that?"

Desmond laughed, the sound awkward and unsure. "I mean--? Uh, yeah? I just thought you wanted to do, you know," he slid his paw down her hip, under her heavy rudder and over the curve of her behind, "something else first."

"It can come after. Like dessert or something," the beaver coolly said. "I fuck best on a full stomach anyway, I think. Maybe I'm just always eating."

The fox searched for some angst in her tone, but he came up empty-handed. Victoria didn't seem to be mindful of her weight. "I guess I could go for some pizza-pie. I can smell it. It's over this way."

Crowds parted for the massive form of the beaver. Desmond was a little bit drunk on power as he led her, his paw eclipsed by her sweaty, webbed mitt in a veritable death squeeze. People got out of the way of a girl like Victoria, looking at the fox with equal parts pity as wonder, and he had the feeling that she could settle any fights he might have gotten in had his personality been more on the antagonistic side.

Before them and rich in scents of melting cheese and anise-spiced sausage was the pizza stall. The dull-faced marten behind the counter gained peculiar energy in his gaze. Victoria was the kind of customer he was used to seeing and yet her proportions still took him aback. Long fingers on the register and a false smile on his face, he asked what they'd like.

"Is it by the slice or whole?" Victoria asked with frightful business acumen. Desmond thought: and are those power windows or do I have to crank them? This had better be a V8, nothing less!

"Oh, it's--, it's by the slice, but you could get an entire pizza if you wanted to, I guess," the marten said uncertainly. He looked at Desmond, as if for help. "Can I assume this is for both of you?"

And just like the marten looked at Desmond, Desmond looked up at Victoria with a faltering smile.

The beaver hooked her fingers around Desmond's head and pulled him in close, letting the side of his head crash harmlessly into her belly. "We'll just get two slices," she mildly said. "With everything." Down at Desmond, lifting his head in her grasp, she sweetly asked: "Want anything else, honey? I'm buying."

Desmond didn't, but he found that he was grinning idiotically as the object of Victoria's favor. Part of the sweetness he felt was his waning afterglow.

With greasy slices of pizza, Desmond and Victoria walked not arm in arm but still close together. Her pizza survived only a few seconds and she eyed Desmond's lustfully as he took his time gnawing on it. Off at the margins of a crowd, Desmond tentatively wagged the remaining half of his slice her way. "Naw, it's yours," she chuckled, nudging back his wrist. "Hey, sweet. That strength-contest-thing. You want to win me a teddy bear?"

Sardonically around a mouthful of dry crust, Desmond said, "I thought you already had me."

"Well, I mean, you can try sleeping with me in my bed if you want to. You have to sign a waiver first, though." She rubbed his back, splayed fingers nesting between his shoulder blades. She was smiling easily, about to really push him into trying the game when she caught sight of the funhouse. "Oh, shit. I haven't been in one of these since I was a little girl. C'mon."

Desmond followed closely - he didn't have a lot of choice with her holding him by the wrist - and wondered how old she was when she was actually his size. The number he guessed was ten. He wasn't far off.

The beaver had trouble with the crazy angles and shifting plates of the funhouse. More often than not she groped along the walls, knowing better than to rely on her scrawny date for support. In spite of how goofy she felt, she was laughing, having a fun time, and she found she envied Desmond being such a sure-footed little thing. By the time they got to the mirrors she was thoroughly disoriented, and seeing her huge body take on shapes like light bulbs and pool noodles was relaxing by comparison.

Laughing and joking with Victoria had almost seen Desmond forget that their date was anything but an innocent good time. She pulled him back into that reality when she pushed him up against one of the weird mirrors, making chromed plastic rattle in its frame. Half bending, half lifting him, Victoria pushed her lips into Desmond's for a quick but potent kiss. She breathed heavily on his face, the smell of junk food on her breath. "So-o-o. Did you wanna fuck me?"

"What--? Here? Right now?"

Victoria looked around, squinting briefly at her distorted reflection. Other couples and - more uncommonly - singles were around, enjoying the same cheap thrills she and Desmond had just bumbled through. A rare, wry grin creased her lips and she pulled Desmond closer before outright carrying him. "Nnno. Not right here. Hold on. I volunteered at one of these places when I was sixteen."

Desmond hugging her gingerly, the beaver groped around one of the side walls and found a panel which she worked open. It wasn't a secret door behind a bookcase but a maintenance passage for the crew, and her bulk proved difficult to fit through it.

"This isn't gonna work," she conceded after trying to slip through sideways. Even when her shoulders weren't keeping her out, her height was. She was about to close it up when the foxcoon slipped around her, putting his feet on the unfinished and dusty wood.

"Here. This'll work ju-u-ust fine," Desmond said deviously, urging Victoria to turn away.

The beaver chuckled. She held her rudder up high and peeled her sweat pants down in the back. Her belly helped to pinch them in front. "Oh, clever. As long as no carnies rape you from behind."

Wonderment kept Desmond's movements reverent but eager. He cupped the beaver's wide ass cheeks through her great red panties, thinking absently he could have worn them like a poncho. Slowly he pulled her underwear down, baring the crack of her ass, something he had previously seen only in vague relief. "I'm gonna--, I mean, I think, if you're cool with it, I'd like to--..."

"Do whatever," Victoria murmured, trying to give the impression of talking to herself. Fortunately nobody seemed to notice the massive woman with her back against a wall.

Desmond pried apart the beaver's ass cheeks. He packed in his snout, drawing a sharp breath through his nostrils. A rich scent of musk and sweat not yet soured by inactivity filled his lungs, sticking in his sinuses like a flavor on the tongue. He slurped the pucker of her anus decadently, making his overlarge date huff and crack a smile.

With the coast clear, Victoria said over her shoulder, "Nice, guys don't usually do that. Sorry about the sweat, I guess."

He pulled back his long snout, fur shiny. "I prefer it that way," he dreamily cooed. "Just so you know."

Victoria's rudder swayed. "Oh yeah?" Deviant ideas brewed in her head. She smiled. "I think I'm okay with that."

Desmond smooched her asshole and pushed his nose into its pucker. He let his tongue dangle a moment then slopped it up, tonguing sticky cuntlips and smooth taint. The beaver rubbed the back of his head, making a mess of his hair. "Mmm. That feels pretty good. You should hurry up, though. I'll sit on you later on."

A dumb and dreamy grin tugged at the fox's face. He rocked back on his knees, took in the plump size of Victoria's bottom, patted the cheeks approvingly. As he stood he heard footsteps, but in front of the beaver's bulk. He rested against her broad back, thinking the fear might kill his erection but the opposite proved true; it throbbed in his jeans, recalcitrant in the face of danger.

Two seconds, three, five, ten. Victoria said over her shoulder, "They're gone now. Go for it."

Desmond chewed his full black jowl and opened up his fly. First he tried to keep his jeans up, pinching them like holding on a towel, but he realized sheepishly that even if his bottom weren't bare, the sight of him humping and grinding into Victoria's dense ass couldn't be mistaken for anything else. He let the cool air wash through his thighs and pressed up flush to Victoria, slipping proudly between her plush cheeks.

She reached back, rubbing his flank clumsily. She coaxed him in a gentle tone of voice but pulled no punches: "C'mon, fuck my butt."

"Lot of cheek to deal with back here," Desmond teased, although he wasn't altogether lying. He looked down at his work, watching in the dim light as his pink cockhead kissed up to the button of her slobbered, sweaty anus. Desmond took a chance, pushing in urgently like he did with the silicone toys stashed under his bed. His girly arms groped around and he hugged her tubby belly underneath her sweater.

Victoria giggled. "That's--, it's in, huh? You coulda had the pussy."

The foxcoon fumbled for clever words. They eluded him. He nosed around her lifted rudder, touching his nostrils to the back of her neck. He breathed in the smell of her hair; cheap shampoo and conditioner. Finally Desmond settled for hissing, "This feels great."

She tugged the bottom of her sweater, obscuring Desmond's hugging arms. A couple wandered by, an otter girl under her stoat boyfriend's arm. Lanky bodies huddled together, they gave Victoria nothing more than a polite look even when they came into scrutinizing distance.

"People here are kinda dumb," the beaver murmured, grinning.

Desmond's mind was adrift, his body moving smoothly and automatically, its impetus mounting pleasure. His tail swished and swayed, brushing its fluff against grubby walls and cutting through cobwebs. He was unaware of everything as he nuzzled Victoria's neck, huffing into her sweaty hair and muttering absent but happy sounds.

The beaver licked her lips and overbite. She started to slouch, dared to slip fat fingers under the lip of her sweat pants. Just when she passed the lips of her cunt, she had to put on her display again for passing guests. They didn't even look her way; she thought as she dug her fingers back into herself how she could have kept going and they wouldn't have noticed at all.

"Are you gonna cum again?"

Victoria felt soft lips on the back of her neck. She didn't love affection, but she didn't hate it either, and his jowls tickled and made her giggle. "I am, yeah," he purred into her ginger hair. "I wanna cum inside you."

"That's cool with me." She reached back and patted his side. Her wet fingers pumped and beckoned, digging into her cunt as only she knew how. "I might even cum."

Desmond's ears perked. He smiled slyly and humped more firmly into Victoria, slim hips smacking her wide ass. "Feels that good?"

Sometimes Victoria bent the truth to make her partners happier. "Yeah," she lied, "you're awesome."

To Desmond, it was a wonderful thing to hear. He felt strong, like he'd moved a mountain. He hunkered against the beaver, squeezing underneath her sweater and adding to the dimples of her love handles. Heavy and hot, his breath washed across her neck, adding to the humidity of her hair and causing her ears to flit adorably. For all he was worth, Desmond fucked her fat ass.

"Ooh, ye-e-es," Victoria hissed, eyelids squinting down. She kept them open just enough that she could see the guests coming and going. Just like the pretty boy behind her, she panted and puffed, giving it everything she had. Her fingers were slippery, panties soaked, and she found she was clenching involuntarily on the small contribution buried in her ass. "Fuck me," she breathed, a hint of a laugh in her voice. "Oh, gawd, yes."

The foxcoon growled. His grin was big and naughty. "You can get this anytime you want, hot stuff. Any fucking time."

It had everything to do with Desmond's cuteness when Victoria cooed, "I really hope so."

Victoria hissed through her pursed lips; her exhalation whistled tunelessly in her overbite. "God," she shuddered, and the mountainous beaver squirted around her fat fingers. Her knees bumped together, toes curling in her sneakers. She squeezed down hard.

The beaver making a mess of her panties wasn't nearly as important to Desmond as how snug and determined to milk him her soft, wide ass suddenly became. She was unbearably tight, and soft as velvet both inside and out. He outright collapsed against her as though exhaustion had claimed him and his spunk shot into her, his second load smaller and thinner, but still unmistakable to the beaver. She allowed herself a giggle and leaned heavily on the hidden door frame.

"Hey, that was pretty good," Victoria puffed. "Now let me get my pants up before we both end up on the sex offender registry."

Desmond obliged her reluctantly. He zipped up and she pulled up, but then she made him wait; another throng of guests went by, laughing and dizzy. When the coast was clear and they closed the panel behind them, Victoria surprised Desmond when she threw her arms around him. She kissed his cheek, the hard enamel of her overbite pressing into his fur.

"I've had a nice night so far," she remarked.

The fox smiled. He was blushing. "Me too. You wanna go ride the Ferris wheel again?"

Victoria looked at him skeptically. She caught sight of the cobwebs on his tail and plucked them off. "Right after this?"

Desmond grinned. "Can't we just snuggle?"

Victoria grinned with him. She laughed, the heavy noise carrying through the spacious chamber like thunder. "I guess we can. Although," she hooked her arm around his shoulders, pulling him tight as she walked with him, "I wouldn't stop you if you touched my boobs again..."