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Just a little short piece to try and get my creative juices flowing. If that doesn't work, maybe it'll do a little something for you, instead! Do enjoy, if so inclined!

• Faora Meridian

Madness

Madness. That's what it was. Had to be. He'd gone absolutely, positively mad, and by the stars it was good.

It had taken weeks aboard ship. Weeks he'd resisted the sideways glances and the cute little smiles and the flirty compliments and all the other signs that the rabbit behind him had put out. Weeks he'd looked aside and kept his expression stoic and offered contrite thanks whenever the rabbit had tried. Every move had been rebuffed. Every effort had been shot down. He'd tried. He really had.

And thank goodness the rabbit had been so persistent.

Gentle paws -- far gentler than he'd expected with the intensity with which they'd dragged him to his quarters -- gripped at his hips. They held him in place as his lapine lover drove forward again and again, hips angled to spear into him just right. His muzzle parted in a cry of pleasure as a particularly sharp thrust rocked his body, and fingers curled tight against the sheets as he thanked any of the old gods that might linger that he'd given in.

He clenched as he bore back into his unlikely partner, and elation tinged his pleasure as he felt the paws on his hips tighten their grip in turn. What he'd done he wasn't sure; he'd been a difficult conquest, and the pudge of an inactive, shipbound lifestyle hung around his belly in the same way gray streaked through the fur of his muzzle. Those gray hairs even tickled his sheath, brushed back as one of the rabbit's paws dipped down to stroke across it.

They didn't stop there; there was a far more interesting toy to play with nearby. His shaft was hard as the bulkhead and infinitely slicker; he drooled with what had to be years -- decades? -- of need across the rabbit's fingers. That slickness was only helped along by the rapid-fire thrusts that pierced beneath his tail, spreading him wide in a way he'd almost forgotten. Why had he ever let himself forget this?

It ached, of course; he couldn't have not ached with how long it had been. It bore no pain but simply existed as a pleasant sensation alongside the pleasure each time he felt that rabbit's tip grind along his prostate. Back and forth it went, with his body jerked forward and back. The thrusts were firm and fast but not too hard; his partner knew exactly what he was doing.

And so, madness be absolutely, completely damned, he let go of any of his lingering concerns and rolled his hips back. Forget it. Forget what anyone might think or hear or see. Forget status and position and anything outside his quarters; his awareness narrowed to a fine point that consisted entirely of the rabbit, his backside and a delicious red haze of resurgent lust.

Surprise struck him as he felt his partner draw back out again, but no sooner than he noticed than a white-furred paw rolled him abruptly to the side. He sprawled out on his back with a gasp, the ache in his rump the only thing left inside it as his muscles twitched sympathetically. His muzzle opened with the intent to ask any number of variations on the question, "Why?"

It didn't matter, and he should have known that by that point. His rabbit was between his legs as he sprawled back on his bed, and the answer returned as those legs were lifted up to give his partner renewed access. Tail splayed to the side as he panted softly. He didn't have to say a word as the rabbit smiled down at him. That was good; he had been more than prepared to beg in a most unbecoming manner. Ears tipped back to hide the way they reddened. Pity. He'd rather almost wanted to beg.

But then the rabbit's malehood pressed against something else that was sure to be reddened by his presence, and they groaned in concert as his partner sheathed himself within him once again. It felt right; a perfect fit thoroughly earned since the moment he'd first been stuffed. Muscles had been molded to the rabbit's shape; his whole body felt like it was wrapped around that shaft in a tight, eager fit. It drew him up off the sheets, back arched as he bore himself back as best he could against that inward thrust. Fingers curled once more around those sheets, great fistfuls of the stuff gathered up and squeezed and shredded in errant claws in ways that he just couldn't possibly care about. They didn't matter; he was full again.

Head thudded back against the mattress and some not-quite-yet-torn sheets as he felt the rabbit's paws delicately slip around his hips again. They did the work for him as they guided him into just the right position and held him there. It wasn't that he was just being used -- though if he had to admit it to himself he'd gladly suggest that it rather wouldn't be the worst thing at that moment -- but the gentle eagerness of the lapine above him. Through lidded eyes he could see the lust and hunger that glinted in his partner's eyes. Smouldering. That was the world. Smouldering.

They sent a shiver through his body from eartips to tailtip, and that only sent him squeezing down on a sharp inward thrust that drew a moan out of the rabbit's muzzle. A moment's pride washed through him before pleasure wiped it away with a sharper thrust from his partner, and his legs lifted and wrapped around the rabbit's waist to help draw him closer. His lover had no more length to give, but he wanted more; needed more. His muzzle parted in a wordless moan.

It must have conveyed what he wanted it to. The rabbit smiled above him and leaned forward, his body haloed by the light on the ceiling as his hips spurred to life in earnest. Eyes widened and crossed at the sudden intensity from his partner as new sparks of pleasure alighted through his body in a firetide that rose from his rump and exploded along his spine. Fingers clawed the sheets anew as one of the rabbit's paws slid up along his body in a long, slow stroke through that graying fur. A moment's concern touched his mind through the fog of pleasure that crested inside him as the stroke ran up and over his belly before it returned to his side. Image. Status. Propriety. Concern spilled into shame. Shame formed itself into a word in his throat. Muzzle parted to speak it as he looked away.

Gaze averted, he didn't see the rabbit lean down further. He only caught the hint of a shadow as his lover's muzzle met his own and turned him back to face him more fully. Shame boiled away in an instant in the kiss; the word died along with it. Doubt evaporated in a skipped heartbeat, and a decidedly unmasculine whimper slipped from his muzzle and into the rabbit's. He felt the twitch of his partner's smile against him. He felt the twitch of his partner's shaft inside him.

He leaned up, no longer encumbered by that shame and pressed deeper into the kiss. One of his arms untangled itself from the sheets and lifted to wrap around the rabbit's shoulders, paw left to grip at the back of his partner's neck and hold him close. Every buck of the rabbit's hips bumped him up into the kiss, and it was all he could do to squeeze down harder around that invasive shaft to urge him on. For every clench his rabbit would buck in harder, and for each spike in intensity he would squeeze down sharply in turn. Nostrils flared with desperate breath, each hungry inhalation filled with musk and heat and rut and need.

The twitches came faster and faster as he arched his back further, desperate to give his partner the best possible angle. The more the rabbit moved toward jackhammering desperation the greater the need he felt for it. Anything he could do to help it along; anything he could do to feel himself all but pounded down into the mattress below was a worthy endeavour. Anything that kept it going for just a moment longer. For just a little bit more. He wanted it to keep going, even if he could feel the end brewing.

He tried to stall it out. Legs relaxed around the rabbit's waist to give him a chance to slow, or ease back. Delight and squashed hope merged as his partner took that not as enticement to slow but to go harder. His thrusts lengthened even as they maintained speed. He saw stars as he found his backside hammered over and over, the kiss forced to break as breath caught in his throat. The world, formerly reduced to nothing more than their coupling, reduced even further to a spark of white that overtook his vision. Eyes squeezed shut against the glare as he felt himself twitch and throb in ways only half-remembered.

Those memories flooded back along with his seed as his whole body was wracked with overwhelming pleasure. Instinct guided him to bite his tongue as a cry of pleasure was stifled to a whimpering moan of physical delight. Clench to throb to spurt. Clench to throb to spurt. Back arched hard; body bore back. Insides squeezing; wringing the shaft buried inside him as it stuttered. Pulsed. Hilted. Throbbed. Whimpered moans exploded into a cry of pleasure. There it was.

And there it went, deep inside him. Even as he squeezed tight in the throes of his own belly-soaking pleasure, each sympathetic tightening of his insides helped drag the rabbit's length deep down into him. Legs clamped closed again around his partner's waist to pin him in place. The rabbit wasn't allowed to escape him. Each pulse of heat that splattered his inner walls was trapped there, equally unable to leave. He trembled hard against his rabbit, and the rest of the world and the ship and the responsibilities of both vanished further and further from his mind.

All he could do was slump back as his climax faded from his mind, the intensity of his peak left to fade into the fuzzy warmth left in its wake. He felt as though he'd melted into a liquid himself, the sensation only aided by the feel of the last few pulses of the rabbit's shaft inside him. He relaxed back below his lover as his eyes flitted closed for a moment; only his insides remained tightly clenched, the better to keep the rabbit buried to the hilt in him. There'd been plenty of movement over the last however many minutes. This then was the time for stillness.

Silence too of a sort, as both he and the rabbit panted quietly for breath. The air's previously enticing mix of sex and musk remained thick, but where it had fed need and desire before it began instead to mark that sense of supreme satisfaction that filled him as surely as the rabbit's seed had. He allowed his head to roll back, his eyes closed. It only felt better as the rabbit leaned over him to nuzzle in against his cheek, a stray lick left to linger on his lips.

A long sigh issued from his own muzzle. Soon there would be duty. Soon there would need to be action again. Soon he'd need to wash, and dress, and go on about his business and do his job and any number of things that once had been important but right then simply felt insufferably dull and absolutely pointless. He'd have to worry about them. He _would_worry about them, but not right then. Not as he lay there, full and satisfied in a way he'd not felt in far, far too long, and all thanks to a colossal lapse of judgement and flagrant disregard for rules. Madness. Absolutely, positively.

And madness had never felt so good.