FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

Veronica put on a brave face in the seedy, dim lit room, pushing her luck. This was nothing like the mall, where she could always make the security guards frown at her disapprovingly, knowing their eyes were aimed low as they watched her leave. She'd heard about the place from her relatively new boyfriend, but Will hadn't had the guts to actually come. Her heart raced as she stayed near the edges of the bar, wondering what her Dad would do to her if he ever found out where she'd come. She perked her ears up, feigning confidence. After all, the underage fox-wolf hybrid had a fake I.D.

Curious as to what one appearing so young might be doing hanging around in a place such as this, an otter takes note of the folf's presence and taps his phone screen a few times, intent on distracting himself. It didn't seem to him that sticking his nose into her business would win him any friends. But still his eyes followed her.

Her trepidation was showing, and it was becoming more and more obvious to him that the young girl had stumbled into some kind of trouble. This dive was a known hook-up for some of the worst people the town had to offer, and a pretty little girl like her was going to draw the wrong sort of attention. None of the other patrons seemed to take note of her just yet, but such a vulnerable girl wouldn't stay unnoticed. Grumbling a little as he stubbed his cigarette out, Ryder put his phone away and went to the bartender to place an order. The bartender nodded and returned after a moment or two with a glass and a can of lemon-lime soda. Pouring the contents into the glass, Ryder turned and started towards the white-furred folf, closing in on her quickly. He managed to cut off a seedier looking fella that had been working his way toward her. He set the bubbling soda into her paws and leaned over towards her ear. "Drink this and take a deep breath before you hyperventilate. You're obviously not supposed to be in here."

Surprised, the young lady accepted the drink without really thinking about it, then turned to face the otter. "W-hat do you mean?" To her credit, at least she didn't drink the soda without first glancing down at it. She sniffed it, and not sensing any alcohol, smiled and said, "Thanks," tossing her hair slightly with a smile like she'd seen in the movies.

Scoffing, the otter leaned his back against the wall and stood next to her, eyes fixed down on the hem of her top. She'd been nervously tugging it since she'd come in. "There's nothing in that glass but Sprite," he promised, whiskers twitching slightly. Then, he offered her a wry little smile. "But good on you for checking anyway. Hard to trust anybody, especially one as cute as yourself in a dump such as this."

She looked up at him, running her hand through her bangs to pull them out of her blue eyes. "Fine, you caught me. I'm only eighteen," she lied brazenly. "But I've had alcohol before," she lied again, taking a sip of the soda gratefully. Perhaps not the wisest to accept a drink from a stranger who wasn't the bartender, alcohol or no alcohol. Ryder was more sure than ever that if he didn't intervene, the folf would end up sprawled over somebody's bed, whether she wanted it or not. Taking a deep breath, the nervous folf said, "You're pretty cute, yourself."

Pushing the rims of his glasses back into place with a fingertip, the otter flashed another smile, showing off his pearly grin. "I have my days," he quipped, glancing her over once again, a little more brazen about it. The short, white vixen was wearing a tight blouse that showed off how much she wasn't wearing a bra, though she definitely could have used the extra support. And her curves only got more appealing as they arced outward to her wide ass, covered rather ineffectively by a short skirt. Her long, bushy tail was tipped in black, more fox than wolf. An early developer. She was young, of that there was no doubt. Eighteen? Sixteen would've been his guess, and he'd put money on it if given the chance. "Takes a lot of guts to come into a dive at the tender age of 'eighteen'. Some grimy locals come here. Who told you about this place?"

She leaned against the wall, trying and failing to look cool doing it. "My - friend," she said, pausing weirdly. "He was bragging that he even knew about the place, but he's never even been here. But I'm not afraid," she added, swishing her white fox tail. Her pleated skirt was longer than she liked, but she'd hiked it up at the waist a few inches to show off more leg, if not what lay between them.

Biting back a chuckle, the otter watched with deepening interest as the young folf swished her adorable tail behind her, lifting her already scandalously short skirt. Despite her age, she was well put together. Another year or two and she'd have heads on a swivel wherever she went, if the charmed young lass didn't already. He knew he shouldn't, but he'd always had a thing for arctic foxes. Sliding right over to lean against the wall beside her, he said, "Oh? You don't need to worry, as long as I'm here. I won't let anyone hurt you."

Veronica smiled back. This was going better than she'd imagined. Years of pudge had finally fallen away to these sultry curves. Boys at school never looked at her until now, and she thrilled when even adults watched her as she passed by. "From what my - friend - said, some people who come here _want_to get hurt," she laughed. She took another sip of soda, side-eyeing the otter. He was definitely older and stronger than her mongoose of a boyfriend, but he had all the sexy svelteness, too. Too bad he was so old - still, it couldn't hurt to tease him a little. She put a paw on his arm, white fur on brown.

"We have those types too," he said with a nod, the paw on his arm drawing his attention, his blue eyes shifting up her arm to her face. His nose twitched and he smirked, then slipped one of his own paws down around her waist, just to see what the young folf would do about it. Closing his fingers down around her hip, he brushed his thumb along the hem of her pleated skirt, teasing the fur of her midriff with a cone-like claw. She smelled like lavender and sandalwood, the light perfume that clung to her fur drawing him in further still.

She stiffened at first. None of the boys at school who have been nearly so forward. But she was playing eighteen, and she knew from reality television how girls were supposed to behave. She let him keep his hand there, forcing herself to wag her tail, and she leaned against him, nursing her glass. "So - why are you here?" she asked, meeting his gaze again, only a half-foot away from his broad face.

He felt her stiffen under his touch and nearly withdrew his paw, the realization dawning on him that, despite being so brash, the young girl might simply be acting mature for his benefit, as well as to prove that she could hang with a tougher crowd. He was prone to bouts of carnal weakness, especially where vulpine females were concerned, but he wasn't a sleaze. At least he_thought_ he wasn't. "Me?" he repeated, ears swiveling. "Just wasting a little time I suppose. Don't get out very often. Just... a little tired of looking at the same four walls, and this place is close despite being a bit of a sewer."

She laughed, glancing around the place. "Not just looking for a quick hook-up?" she asked, her heart thumping. She wasn't really planning to do anything, of course. Not really. Right? She smiled up at him questioningly, trying to make her chest protrude as much as possible without breaking her back.

"I've gotten lucky here once or twice," he admitted, his cheeks warming a little. Her back arched off the wall, showing off her womanly assets. He glanced down for a second, his azure blue eyes darting back up the moment he thought she might catch him looking. "But it's a rare occurrence. Still... one does have to hold onto hope, no?"

"Is that why you're holding onto me?" she giggled, wiggling her butt.

"You grabbed me first," he interjected, giving her side a little pinch. "Or did you forget?"

Veronica yipped at that, giggling and thwacking the otter in the arm. "My name's not 'Hope'," she smiled. Holding out a paw she said, "Veronica." Her nickname, 'Ver' sounded too childlike to her, so whenever she was flirting, she used her full name.

Tensing up, her blow landed on his bicep and he took great pains to tease her, not even so much as a flinch breaking his composure. His cheeks dimpled as he grinned, the outstretched paw she offered quickly taken up. He held onto it for several seconds, pressing his thumb against her palm and giving her fingers a tight little squeeze. Veronica, he repeated silently to himself. He liked it. He liked it quite a bit. "Nice to meet you, Veronica. You can call me Ryder."

She wagged her tail, enjoying the attention from such an eligible bachelor. The boys at school (with the exception of her boyfriend) still remembered her chubby childhood, and the old men on the street who wolf-whistled her were just wishing they were younger. Seeing Ryder look at her the way he did made her face flush and her blue eyes shine. She placed the empty glass on a nearby table, pulling toward the otter with her hands up. "Ryder. I like it." She was breathing heavily, her bosom gently heaving.

Despite approaching his mid-thirties, the otter could've passed for being in his mid-twenties; there was a youthful charm about him, reflected in his grin. Physically, he was well put together, with broad shoulders and a narrow, trim waist. Swimming, of course, came naturally to him, and his time spent in the pool darting from end to end kept him fit and sleek. He didn't often meet women shorter than he was. When the folf put her paws up and stepped into him, he responded by taking her wrists in his paws and guiding her arms around his neck. He brazenly leaned in, both hands now down below her line of sight again, gripping her tenderly by her wide hips to keep her body close, the warm of their dense fur radiating between them. Her muzzle was close enough now that he could smell the citrus from her soft drink. Churring, the otter brushed his whiskery muzzle along her cheek, then pecked the corner of her maw. "Mm. Good. I'll keep it then."

Veronica held her breath and half-closed her eyes at the embrace, wondering just what she was getting herself into. She clasped her hands behind his neck, having to stand on her tiptoes and hiking her rump, tail curling up behind her. As his face touched hers, she shivered, and after the gentle kiss, she pulled back, if only to look at Ryder eye-to-eye, her mouth half-open in wonder. She looked somewhat frozen in time, lost in his eyes, her slender muzzle framed by her white-furred cleavage.

Pinching his lower lip between his teeth, the otter bumped her chin with his wide nose to try and close her open jaws. Her expression was cute, if a little incredulous; he put it somewhere between shock and wonderment. Noticing the young woman perched on her toes, he slid one of his paws off her waist and on down to cup her rump through the thin skirt, giving her a little lift. What was he thinking? At least the age of consent here was sixteen, so he was safe, but she was half his age! Still, he took a deep breath and found himself asking "Mm. Do you want to...come with me? My place is just up the block. The vibe here is... a little stifling."

The young girl gasped softly at his helpful hand, another line crossed. And another, with that question. The enchanted folf curled her white tail gently around the otter's hand, and joked, "I dunno - can you match this place's Sprite?"

"Will Sierra Mist do?" he chirped playfully. There was a full case in his fridge. It went good with Seagram's. As if anticipating her answer, he gave her side a little squeeze and began to nudge her towards the exit.

Perhaps she might have turned him down. She knew she should. He thought she was eighteen, after all! But when he squeezed her hips and pushed her knowingly toward the door, the thought of stopping the friendly, sexy otter faded from her mind. It was just a change of venue, really. It's not like she was committing herself to anything more than that. With a smile, she let herself be directed, saying, "I like it even better," with a husky tone.

The otter wasn't lying. Typically, the girls he took back to his unimpressive, but cheap apartment were a bit more wasted than Veronica was, and the trip took a bit longer for a few stumbles. The seedy bar was behind them, as were the watchful eyes. Ryder knew which regulars were disapproving and which (in greater number) approved of his choice to pursue this mature little vixen. Opening the door, he set his keys on the island with a jangle and opened the fridge, grateful to hear Veronica walk in behind him after a short hesitation. He leaned forward, holding his thick tail almost horizontal while he fished out a can of Sierra Mist, letting her get a discreet eyeful of his muscular rump. He popped open the tab with his thumb and poured the sparkling contents into a glass, adding two small cubes of ice. "Just as promised," he said with a giggle, offering her the beverage as he leaned in to nuzzle her on the cheek. Again, lavender and sandalwood filled his nostrils. One of his paws slipped to her backside.

The fizz almost made Veronica sneeze as she took the glass in her right hand, unable and unwilling to stop the inquisitive touch of the otter along the small of the back of her green blouse. She took in a deep breath of otter, pressing her nose into his neck fur, enjoying his scent. "You know how to treat a lady," she grinned.

Ryder had a crisp coffee smell about him, with just a hint of cherrywood tobacco. When her small, black nose pressed into his neck, the otter exhaled, then took in a very deep breath, his chest swelling into her bosom. How he wanted to embrace her, squeeze her, have her. The innocent young girl was like a precious gift, and he cursed himself for what he wanted. Still, the paw at her backside slid down and tightened up a little, giving the swell of her right cheek a gentle squeeze through the fabric of that pesky skirt. Brushing aside a lock of her hair with a nuzzle, he set his mouth near to her ear and licked his lips. Would she let him, this pretty young folf with the flirtatious grin? "Mm. I know a few things about keeping ladies happy."

Veronica thought back to the few times she'd made out, fully clothed, with her boyfriend on the couch - a sweaty, musty affair that the mongoose seemed to really enjoy. But Ryder was so different. She knew she was seconds away from kissing him, and kissing him a lot, and she whimpered softly as she wondered where it might go after that. She had, after all, once let Will reach under her shirt, a reward for his good behavior. But she knew that would be old hat for the alluring otter. He'd never be satisfied with just a bit of groping. She bit her lip, clumsily dropping the full glass of Sierra Mist on the counter, all but forgotten. Taking a deep breath, the vixen panted, "Show me."

Ryder didn't mind the spilled soda, even as it dripped off the counter and onto a stack of mail. "Gladly," he rasped, his voice suddenly throaty and rough. This time with force, he dropped both paws down under the curve of her butt, easily lifting the young vixen off her feet, his muzzle pressing in against her neck. She was delightfully easy to carry, and he whisked her away to the hallway, pausing at the last door near the end. Turning the knob, he put his shoulder into it and barged on into his bedroom, the vixen still in his arms. His was a modestly furnished little room with a large, comfortable bed dominating the furnishings. It was there where he set her, pushing the blossoming female down to her back, resting his weight on her, his lips on her chin and neck. His paws moved swiftly to bunch up her blouse at the hem.

She felt like putty in his arms, carried so casually down the hallway before being bounced backward onto the bed. Her heart was racing, this going way faster than she was expecting, way sooner. She'd only come to the bar to practice her flirting and enjoy the lewd gazes of the old drunks. She tried to ignore her fears, instead focusing on the thrill of his whiskers against her neck and chin. She had been right about her blouse - what had been her boyfriend's prize was just the price of admission for the eager otter. He didn't ask, or even pause before his hands were on the green cloth, the tantalizing white fur along her belly just beyond his glimpse. She had her paws to either side of her head, palms up, and she bit her lip again, letting Ryder realize his vision without protest.

Ryder was guided by experience and more than a little practice; when he'd told her that he'd gotten lucky at the tavern a time or two, he might have been down playing just how lucky he actually was. He'd spent time developing a bit of a reputation with the ladies at the dive bar, honing a skill that won him more than a few admirers. Once he could tell that she wasn't interested in shoving him away, the otter began to ease back, his knees hitting the floor as he pulled the young vixen along until her butt hovered off just off the edge of the bed. His paws in her blouse retreated, opting instead to tug at her skirt. Swiftly, he undid the clasp and slipped it off her legs, then dove back in, cool, moist nose pressing to her pantyclad mound. There was still time to stop him, still time to resist, but it was ticking away. Curling his fingers into the hem of her underwear, he threatened to roll it back, huffing warm breath against her inner thigh.

What she had expected so quickly changed that she squeaked a little in surprise. She'd been prepared to go topless, but it only took a few, hapless seconds for her to realize what the otter was actually doing. She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, he'd already undone her skirt, revealing her wide, white hips, the light pink panties leaving barely anything to the imagination, the creases clearly outlining her foxy spade. It was when his whiskers pressed up against that bouncing mound that she whined, "W-wai...t are you doing?" She managed at the last second to change her protest to a question, his touch sending electricity through her body.

Ryder paused briefly at the cusp of revealing her developing spade, the scent of her blossoming arousal filtering on up through his sensitive nostrils, causing them to flare. Licking his lips, the otter nuzzled her lower abdomen and gave her thighs a reassuring little squeeze. It was just beginning to occur to him that, despite seeming unlikely, she might not know about this form of play. "You'll enjoy this. Trust me." Dragging his lips down, he caught the lace hem of her rose petal pink panties and took them on down the rest of the way, his thumbs converging to slide them off her ankles.

Sliding her hands to her sides along the bed, she gripped the bed sheets, gasping after Ryder spoke and so quickly pulled her panties off. Her little rump offered little resistance to his hands as the cloth slid all the way off, revealing herself to the first male ever (that wasn't her father, years ago). He wasted no time moving back in, paws curling around the tops of her furred thighs, brushing swirling circles in her pelt with his claws. She shivered, but his reassuring return grip on her thighs helped her relax. Her fur was pure white down there, her perky little spade not quite as pink as the cloth that had hidden it from view. She inhaled quickly as he exhaled, holding her breath and squeezing the sheets in her paws. "Ohhhhh..." she whimpered, as if she were just now realizing what he meant to do. In truth, she was dealing with a fresh suite of emotions and feelings she'd never had before.

Nuzzling in close and exhaling warm breath against her shivering, exposed vulva, he began to lick, muzzle bobbing just below her line of sight. His smooth, flat tongue brushed lengthwise along her bud as his warm breath cascaded across it, the deliberately slow pace of his licking meant to ease the young vixen in. Paramount for him was how much she enjoyed the new experience; the otter took immense pleasure in how others reacted to this talent of his. The folf arched her back and moaned at the first gentle licks alone, but when he pressed his wide, whiskery muzzle close, the firm hairs rubbing against the fur on her thighs, she uttered a low "Oh, god!" Her soft petals met his wet tongue, locked in a lip-to-lip embrace unlike anything she'd ever experienced.

To ease the sting of his chilly nose, Ryder moved in and pressed his lips to her triangular vulva, forming a tight little seal as he began to suckle on her outer folds. His tongue eased back but he didn't draw it entirely in, instead choosing to flick the end against her pouting sex, rapid little strokes that saw his tongue undulate like a wave on the sea. His chest swelled as he took in another breath - air control was one of the keys to his technique.

Her canine mound quivered up and down against his tongue, the pointy nub a rocking boat on the aforementioned waves. If Ryder needed more permission, the inexperienced young girl spread her legs apart until her knees made a ninety-degree angle, her fluffy grey tail hanging limply out of the way. "Nnngh..." she added, insightfully. Her boyfriend had never offered anything like this, and she'd thought the heart-pounding adrenaline of kissing was as good as it got. Boy was she wrong!

Ryder was spurred on as she reacted with enjoyment, her legs falling open. This was all he needed to see; she was going to be eating out of his palm by the time he finished. Persistent suckling gave way to firm tonguing, the smooth, stiff muscle probing her sex, parsing her outer folds. She was intensely tight, forcing him to curl his tongue just to wiggle it in, the flavor of her sex finally gracing his tastebuds. It was light and slightly sweet, the consistency reminding him of the syrup they canned with peaches. Bobbing his head to work his wriggling tongue in just a little more, he cupped her taut little ass and squeezed her cheeks, the suckles growing a little firmer, a little more insistent. And then, the otter began to churr. It was a deep, throaty rumble, originating in his chest and passing on through his tongue out against her silken walls, light vibrations that swelled and ebbed, all coupled with his suckling lips and nodding head. This was the coup de grace, his gift to the inexperienced young vixen, her introduction to a game he loved playing.

Her voice picked up, murring and moaning, her muzzle too busy to form words. Soon, she was arching her back, pressing her crotch up against that probing, inquisitive tongue. Thankfully, the younger-than-she looks vixen wasn't in heat, but she was definitely starting to get as wet as if she were. Her limp tail curled up now, wagging like the half of her that was wolf wanted to do. Her tail brushed against Ryder's chest with painterly imprecision, finally letting go of the sheets to clasp both hands to her still-clothed breasts.

Ryder rocked her in his paws, forcing his tongue deeper, vibrating deeper and deeper into her sweet cunny. The fur around his lips and on his chin was dampened by her sex; he'd smell the adolescent girl in his nose for weeks after. Determined to see her through to the end, he continued to roll her firm buttocks in his strong palms as he ate her out, the persistent nudging of his muzzle against her pubic mound tickling her stiff little nub, the hood that concealed it brushed by his nose each time the otter dipped in. He wanted her toes to splay, to hear those trembling little moans, to feel the tremors as she climaxed. He ached for it.

Veronica felt something bubbling up inside her. Something her boyfriend had certainly never managed! Her tight tunnel throbbed and squeezed down around Ryder's tongue, her rump bucking up and down in his grip. Every deep, powerful lick, she whined, a rush of hot-white pleasure coursing through her body. She tried her level best to relax her tender mound for him, egging him on deeper. She kicked her legs up and curled them around his body, pulling him closer, unaware that her tail was now thumping back and forth against his pants. Squeezing her chest roughly, she imagined Ryder's hands, her high-pitched whimpers slowly lowering into a husky moan interspersed with heaving gasps for air that left her trembling on the edge of her first climax.

He sensed it in her, the way she gripped him with her whole body, how the young vixen moaned and heaved underneath him. She was close. Redoubling his efforts, the otter propped her up, digging his elbows down into the duvet cover below and lifting her taut white rear off the bed while her tail thumped eagerly. Pushing his tongue in just as deep as he dared, he began to undulate it again, serpentine flicks against her stiff, glossy walls, coating it's surface in her flavor while dribbles of her honey slid down his throat to be swallowed. Cum for me, he quietly willed, his small ears folding back as those broad shoulders hunched, keeping the slender young thing trapped in his tight grasp. He readied himself for whatever might happen, should she buck or should she squirt. His suckling continued unabated.

She wasn't even aware that she had been hiked up, her vulva mashed against his muzzle. Her legs were up in the air now, dangling in sharp little circles, the paws finally clenching and curling as every nerve ending in her body began to quiver. Her tail curled neatly to the side and held there, instincts getting the better of the young folf. She greeted him with both expectations - bucking weakly against his muzzle, soft, pliable mound squeezing tightly around him before her moans suddenly cut off. Veronica held her breath for a few, tantalizing milliseconds, before she yipped like a puppy and released in Ryder's face, her quivering tunnel erupting with sweet, salty flavor. Without thinking about it, her paws went back to the bedsheets, knuckles white as her body began to convulse and she returned to her plaintive, high-pitched whines.

Ryder held her firm throughout her climax, his tongue bathed in her flavorful feminine juices. Greedily, he continued to suckle her thick spade, drawing her flavor into his maw and swallowing it down as she yipped and squirmed, his claws digging into her plush rear. His throat clenched visibly with each swallow, the otter's own tail smoothly swaying behind him as her gushing stained his muzzle a dark mahogany. Nuzzling in, he rocked against her crotch until she began to ebb back from her dizzying heights. Knowing the young folf would be sensitive in the wake of her climax, he carefully eased back, his tongue slipping free.

Her whines faded to cute little whimpers, then gasps, then panting huffs. "Oh...oh...god. I never..." She collapses back onto bed, her muscles finally letting her relax, her damp crotch glistening in the dim light.

Ryder crawled up to join the trembling little vixen and draw her in close to his chest. Reaching over and grabbing a corner of the comforter, he rolled them up in it and began to brush her stomach, trying to soothe away any residual aching. His muzzle brushed her cheek. "Glad you liked it."

Turning to face the otter who gave her such a gift, she panted, "That's...selling it short. W-where did you learn how to DO that?" Her momentary embarrassment, ages ago, about her nudity seemed lost to the ages as she panted there, spade quivering in the cool air.

Ryder licked her muzzle, which she turned into a kiss. Brushing some of her hair back behind one large vulpine ear, he curled in close and began to warm her, his dense fur quite adept at trapping heat. In the comforter they shared, it was nice and toasty. "Started in high school with a girlfriend of mine . We couldn't go all the way, so oral was the next best thing. I found out I really, really liked it."

"I'll bet she did, too!" the vixen announced, placing a hand on his arm. She kissed him again, enjoying the gentleness that she'd never gotten from Will. Without realizing, she said, "My boyfriend never does that." Then, her eyes widened, and she clapped her other hand to her muzzle.

Ryder winced a little upon hearing the word, his shoulders sinking as he bit the inside of his lips. To her credit, she'd managed not to let it slip until after they'd finished, but immediately the white hot pangs of guilt flashed through his stomach. He'd not taken her for a cheater. "I see," the otter said quietly. However, his paws remained around her body, keeping her close to his chest. Head tilting, he looked into her eyes for a moment, then nudged at her paw, still fixed over her mouth. "I once had to sneak out a second story window to avoid getting caught with another guy's girl," he said, looking a tad sheepish. "But we were at her place, not mine."

She pulled it away, looking sheepish. "I'm sorry. We've only been dating for one week," she tried, hoping that made it better, before adding, "Well, two. I wasn't going to tell you," she admits, softly.

"Might've been better that way," he said with a light sigh, reclining in the warmth of the comforter with the vixen clutched tightly in his arms. Idly, he began to brush his claws over her forearms, combing the cream colored fur there. The more Ryder thought about it, the less sense worrying seemed to make. He'd just spent the past fifteen or so minutes with his head firmly planted between her legs; anything else they did would simply be icing, given that they were already knee deep in their sin. What was the old saying again? In for a penny, in for a pound. "I suppose at this point, it doesn't really matter, does it? Not like we can rewind the afternoon."

She smiled, latching on to the slow acceptance showing over his face. "I wouldn't've followed you home if it was serious with Will. I don't even know if I'll be with him next week." She placed a white paw on his arm, running it up and down with a pleased sigh.

With a pat on the cheek, he guided her muzzle towards his for a kiss. "Guess I should be thankful then, hm?" There was a suggestion in his tone that the otter might be teasing her. Since he wore his wry little grin most all the time, it was hard to tell whether or not her deception perturbed him beyond the minor inconvenience of a boyfriend. The perfume of her sexual release still tainted his whiskers and the short brown fur around his lips. He smelled her each time he drew in a breath. He'd have probably eaten her out even if she had told him. "Mm. Keep me posted." Rolling her onto her side and brushing his claws down her back, Ryder nuzzled in. "So what should we do now that you've made friends with my tongue?"

Veronica shivered as the hard nails poked through the pristine white fur on her back. Turning her head, she gazed at the otter very up close, his breath against her face and neck. She realized that as good as he had made her feel, she hadn't exactly returned the favor, though she got the sense that Ryder had enjoyed it so much he would have done it regardless. Huffing slightly to hide her nervousness, the half-naked folf said, "I guess that's up to you..."

Ryder was, regrettably, still clothed. He'd not bothered to strip off even a single article of clothing, his zeal for cunnilingus overpowering any need to join her in nudity. It was a little awkward cuddling this way, her without her skirt and him still in jeans and a t-shirt. The stiff denim restricted his crotch, the otter's member having long since unsheathed itself into his underwear. It was slowly dawning on him now, the discomfort of confinement. He grunted each time he was forced to change position, the bulge in his Levi's throbbing. "Rrf. Just... lemme..." Working one arm down between them, he tugged his belt loose and opened his fly, the relief immediate. "Sorry," he muttered, wriggling back. "It was starting to hurt."

She grinned at him, enjoying that she was making him react in this way. After getting no (positive) attention from boys for years, puberty had served the vixen well. "My bad," she joked, wagging her tail against his crotch.

He poked his tongue out, large black nose crinkling up. He had a habit of wrinkling his nose in certain situations, most prominently when at the dentist; typically anxiety was its trigger. "You are bad," he teased, the mustelid pushing his jeans down now. His boxer shorts tented out, the protrusion brushing her belly. "I like it a lot." Rubbing his legs together like a cricket to get his jeans off his tail, he kicked them out from under the comforter and then started on his t-shirt, lifting it to reveal a trim, swimmer's midsection.

He couldn't help but notice her eyes widen at the otter's fitness. Apparently her short-term boyfriend wasn't quite so impressive. She couldn't hold back from touching, her rough paw pads cupping his right abs and left pectoral muscles, feeling how tight he was. Her eyes also wandered down to peek between the sheets curiously at his tented shorts. She'd never seen a boy's dick before, not that she wanted Ryder to know that.

Sensing her desire to explore, Ryder obliged, thumbing his shorts down until his starkly pink member emerged, the otter's cock about half out of it's protective sheath. The brief chill made the fur of his flanks bristle. "Hrrr."

She sat up, clearly interested, instinctively cocking her head. "Is that for me?" she said, parroting a line from a romance novel she had read - for a class book report. It had been worth getting sent to the office to see Mrs. Flanagan's expression.

Ryder cracked up. He couldn't help it. He'd not expected her response, not in the slightest. Shoulders quaking as he laughed, the otter pushed himself up to sit as well, leaning in for a kiss and a nosing. "Because of you," he added . Cheek to cheek, he thought of the condoms in the beside stand drawer. Reaching past her, he groped for the handle and slid the drawer open.

The two hadn't shared many kisses yet, unless you counted different kinds of lips, and Veronica leaned into this one, cocking her head as she let Ryder into her mouth. Her left hand gripped his fur tight as she held her breath, realizing now that Ryder was naked, and SHE was the overdressed one. Pulling back, her hands went to her green blouse, lifting it over her head to reveal unrestrained breasts. Puberty had done very well for the half-vixen, and made her the envy of the other girls at school. Not that that had won her any friends. Only after the cloth passed her head did she notice the otter reaching past her for something. Her eyes followed his hand.

He palmed the silver wrapper with it's telltale ring and brought it back around to show her. "Just in case," he murmured, nosing the bridge of her muzzle. Six months prior, a pregnancy scare had sent him to the pharmacy. He'd gotten the biggest box of condoms they sold.

She knew enough about condoms thanks to sex ed that she didn't make a fool of herself, saying, "Do you want me to put it on?" Putting on condoms was the one and only thing anyone ever remembered from that class. She quelled a small tremor in her paw as she rushed forward toward the unknown, relying on what she thought she was supposed to do in this situation. He wanted sex, that much was clear, and she couldn't really turn him down after what he'd done for her. She bit her lip.

Ryder nodded, passing her the small, silvery wrapper. "If it's not too much to ask," he replied, nuzzling in. Something stopped him though, something that put him off; she seemed tense for the occasion. Not entirely unexpected, but the way the vixen presented herself reminded him of a time some years back, an experience he'd had with an older partner that had set him on edge. Could it be true of her, so full of poise and bravado? "You're... okay, right?" Touching his forehead to hers, the otter leveled his bright blue eyes with her own and pressed her. "This doesn't have to happen if you don't want it to."

She said, "Oh, uh..." furrowing her brow as she focused on anything but that question. She tried to unwrap the rubber unsuccessfully for at least 12 seconds. She knew what she was supposed to say, but something in the way that Ryder spoke made her realize suddenly that he wasn't playing a game. He wasn't acting a role. He really wanted to know what she was feeling...despite the firm and obvious desire he felt for her.

Ryder watched her fumble with the condom and picked it from her paws to set aside. She seemed flustered. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was definitely something hanging over her, perhaps another omission. Was it possible to have two boyfriends? Young adults these days were into weird shit. At least some still hooked up with strangers in bars. "C'mere," he murmured, his arms folding around her, pulling her back with him to lay at the center of the bed, her chest to his, those perky young breasts mashed to his tufted chest fluff. "You're gorgeous," he told her, petting the folf's shoulders and back.

Now it was Veronica's turn to feel guilty. He'd slowed it down and made her think and now the thoughts wouldn't stop. She couldn't tell him the truth. She knew quite well that guys could get in a lot of trouble with girls her age. She paused and said, "T-thanks," before telling part of the truth - "I've never done this before...'it', I mean."

The otter cocked his head. "You're a virgin?" He'd never considered that being a possibility. She was so flirtatious, so vexing. But young. Perhaps he'd misjudged the vixen. She might be saving it, saving herself for somebody other than him. Their rendezvous hadn't been planned. "I see," he began, still trying to soothe her by petting her fur. "Well... my first time was really rough. I wasn't ready, and I felt pressured to follow through. It was quick and awkward and I felt a little guilty afterwards. So I get it." Leaning in, he kissed her cheek. "First times can be important. I don't want to rob you of that."

Instantly she relaxed in his grip. The tension he'd sensed had been building up, and this way out caused her physical relief. "I'm sorry..." she whimpered slightly. "I...think it would be really great, but I'm not ready." The truth felt like such a relief she almost went even further. She licked the otter's nose by way of apology.

Ryder shared her sigh with one of his own. His instincts had proven correct. Poor thing. He felt a little guilty about how their interactions had progressed; he wasn't one to pressure women. A little disappointed but awash with relief that she'd come clean about how she felt, the otter leaned in and pecked her lips in the wake of her apologetic lick. Blue balls were annoying, but so was the persistent sense of wrongdoing he'd feel were they to engage in intercourse before she was ready. He'd paw himself off once she left. "It's fine," he repeated, petting. "It's just fine."

"That..." she said, slowly, looking the naked otter over, "doesn't mean I have to leave just yet." She curled into Ryder's arms, her white fur radiating warmth.

Ryder nodded in turn, brushing one of his paws down her slender back, following the curve of her spine to the slight rise of her rear, his fingers settling just above the root of her tail. Looking down at the girl against his chest with those curious blue eyes of his, the otter offered her a small smile and rolled them together to lay on their sides. He pulled the comforter up over their bodies as he bent in to kiss her muzzle. "I'll take you where you need to go when the time does come."

Veronica shivered, despite the warmth. She kissed the otter back, her hands running along his arms. Then, her up hand slid between his arm and his body, further down, further down, until she was resting her paw on the side of his rump. "Such a gentleman," she cooed.

The brown-furred mustelid snorted and gave her a playful little nip on the cheek, his long whiskers tickling her nose as they brushed past it. "It's the right thing to do," he replied, the muscles she teased with her descending paw tensing in turn as her fingers continued downward, across the chocolate colored expanse of his thick fur. His curling tail swept under her bare feet, resting against the soles of her paw pads. "Would you prefer I call you a cab?"

"No, definitely not," she grinned, concentrating much more on what her hand was doing than the conversation at hand. Biting her lip, the young girl guided her hand down and in front of the otter, pausing just millimeters from making contact with Ryder's still-firm rod. "Mm...can I?" she asked gently.

Ryder flexed his toes, his eyes unable to follow the path her paw took given their close proximity to one another. But he could feel it, oh could he feel it! She followed the 'v' of his stomach down from the curve of his rump, his abdominals tensing as her pointy claws combed their way towards his crotch, his erection unashamedly pressed between them. "Please do..." he replied, in a low, husky voice, nose twitching.

"It's only fair, after what you did for me," she murred, licking his expressive nose. Then, heart racing, she went the last inch, cupping the bottom of the otter's erection in her soft, white-furred palm, the scratchy pads gently gripping the sides. Veronica marvelled at the feel of the first dick she'd touched that wasn't blocked by boxer shorts, and smiled up at Ryder.

As she palmed him for the first time, the otter's breath caught in his throat, his warm, stiff organ seeming to leap a touch against her fingers as the muscles in his back and groin went briefly rigid. His shaft was smooth, the bare skin unblemished and slightly slick to the touch. Her textured pads made for a rough connection that he deeply relished, his smile returning as he nosed his way in against her neck to nip and nibble. "Hhrr..."

Veronica nuzzled back, her other hand squeezing onto Ryder's shoulder while her right carefully began to explore the firm evidence of the otter's attraction that had drawn the underage girl to the experienced otter in the first place. Afraid to hurt him, she slowly pressed her palm down, letting the white fur slide down the sensitive shaft. She kept going until she hit his base, squeezing gently once there. Her paw wasn't her tight spade, despite her tender pussy trembling just inches away, but it would have to do. "H-how's that?" she groaned.

Ryder brushed his muzzle across her cheek, lifting his lips to nose her hair aside, kissing her temple near the base of one upturned ears. In his mind, the otter was fucking her, his eyes tightly shut as the vision played over and over again in his head, their bodies interwoven in coital ecstasy. He could still taste her on his lips, the smell of her quivering sex clinging to the short hairs around his nose and lips. When she brought her fist down to his base and pushed the skin of his sheath back a hair, he gasped, his legs drawing in a little as his toes balled up. "Gah. Mm. G-good. Really good."

She was encouraged by his response, sliding her hand more quickly up his length, before rubbing it down, harder this time. She wasn't experienced, but at least she had gotten Ryder horny as all fuck first. She kept it up a few more times, squeezing tight to his upper body, so that her developed breasts pressed against him.

Grunting, the otter squeezed his abdominal muscles together as the young folf experimented below, changing the pace and pressure of her fist against his lightly twitching dick too frequently to bring him over quickly. Snuffling a little, the otter licked his lips and eased backwards to bring one of his paws around, down between them to close over the top of hers, ceasing its movement for a second. Enveloping her white furred glove in his, he began to drag her hand up and down with a smoother, more deliberate motion, his fingers squeezing on her hand, showing her just how much pressure to apply. This went on for about half a minute, after which he withdrew his paw and brought it over her hip to clutch one of her small cheeks. "Hh... mm... yes... just like that..."

Veronica was an eager student, trying to learn exactly the right pace and pressure to please her new friend. Even the act of rubbing him worked to arouse the vixen again, and soon she coupled each press of her hand with a weak little dry hump, her hips colliding with his, the extra pressure transferring to her paw. "Oh...Ryder," she moaned, going beyond pleasing only him, her ears flat.

Ryder didn't respond to the sound of his own name, at least not verbally. The otter let his pleasure be known to her through heavy breathing and short, throaty grunting noises. Teasing the fuzz of her shoulder and neck with his strong jaws, the otter met those weak little humps with slight thrusts of his own, his turgid dick moving through the folf's fist, the head swollen and dripping onto her wrist. The paw on her ass gripped that firm little globe and squeezed it hard, his fingers edging down around the back of her thigh to ever so faintly brush across her dewy lips. "Hhhh... n'fuck...!" Pressing his chest in, imposing his weight on her, the otter shivered from head to toe, his tail curling tight against her feet.

Now she whimpered at that brush against her vulva, starting to rethink the limits she'd placed on their interactions. She arched her back and licked the side of his face, slathering his thick whiskers. Taking a small amount of inspiration, the arctic folf slid her hand further -up- the otter's cock, blanketing his dripping tip in her palm fur and squeezing around him, all while humping weakly sideways against him. "Come on, babe," she whispered in his ear, her voice low and husky.

Pushed his fingers down and curled them around her thigh, he probed her vulva in the last few moments of clarity he had left to spare. While he didn't enter her again, the otter did manage to stroke the length of her sex from front to back, collecting a wealth of unshed dew to smear and slather against her plush mons. Trading out licks for kisses and little nips, he pressed himself in close against her humping hips, aiming his cock slightly upwards against the squeeze of her closed paw, his chest rising and falling rapidly in their close quarters. Nose to nose, he gulped one more time and pulled a pained expression, one paw gripping at the sheets as the other dug into her fleshy asscheek. A spasm ran down his back and he gasped out, his cock in her paw throbbing hard, a spurt of warm, thick fluid drenching her fist and her belly. Another followed almost immediately, partially hidden by her tight little fist, though a good portion of it splashed her wrist and dripped down her furred tummy. The musky smell of male release filled the air between them.

The young vixen dropped her jaw, feeling the warm, sticky reward for her good behavior pumping into her paw. Her pussy quivered, drenched, still humping weakly as though her teenage body wished beyond anything that Ryder's gift were being deposited where it truly belonged - inside her. But Veronica herself was content to watch the otter groan and shudder in front of her. She didn't know much about refractory periods, however, and kept squeezing...a bit too long. At first, the intense pressure was more than welcome, but soon...

Ryder could scarcely focus his eyes in the wake of his orgasm, his essence coating a good portion of her paw, a dribble staining the sheets. Groaning, he allowed her to continue squeezing and humping at him until, with cock still twitching, he gritted his teeth in pain and tried to pull away. "Hhhah... ow..." Slipping free of her palm, the otter sat up, semi-soft and sticky between his open knees. "Careful. After that happens, men get really... really sensitive.."

"Oh, sorry," she apologized, pulling off the covers (inadvertently revealing her curvy, naked body) to look at her paw and her belly, the white, creamy substance pretty hard to see amidst all that pure white fur. "Glad I could return the favor," she grinned, able to tell that Ryder wasn't especially damaged by her mistake.

Scooting off the bed, he gathered a clean towel from the dresser and came back, cleaning himself with it. Ryder took a breathless moment to admire the young vixen's curves before climbing up to join her. Laying by her side, he brought the towel over and wiped her paw and stomach off, nosing at her cheek as his chest pushed against her shoulder. Satisfied that she was mostly clean, he balled to towel up and threw it off the bed, the blankets coming back over their bodies. "Mm. Same. It was...intense."

She embraced him firmly, pressing her body against him, even her lower body, letting her slightly damp spade gently touch the male's spent cock. She tilted and opened her mouth for a kiss, tail wagging.

Ryder wrapped himself around her protectively and met her lips, kissing the vixen fully, their tongues dancing as she pressed in. Drawing one of his paws down her side and closing it over her hip, he rolled her to her back and pinned her with his weight, sharing his taste, tongue flicking over the ridges of her soft palate.

Veronica Jorgensen kissed back with renewed vigor, enjoying being under the larger otter. She wrapped her arms around him and spread her legs, clinging tightly enough that her claws dug slightly into his shoulders, her tongue wrestling wetly and eagerly with his.

Playfully sucking her bottom lip, the eager mustelid released it with a gentle pop before kissing her again, his weight pressing her down into the plush comforter that smelled so deeply now of sex. His paws continued to knead and rub her sides, the claws digging against his shoulders sending a fresh series of tiny shocks down his back. A part of him still wished she'd let him go all the way. Something akin to a splinter in his mind, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling of a session left unfinished, despite them both getting off. He didn't linger too long on the thought though, and cradled her in comfort to rest and enjoy until the light grew soft outside. Once or twice, he almost asked her to stay the night with him, though he knew that to be an impossible request.

Noticing the time, much later, the folf sat up with a start. "I was supposed to be home hours ago! My dad's going to kill me!"

Ryder blinked and rose to check his watch. No surprise that she still lived with her father. If she were really eighteen, he'd eat his hat. Nodding, he slipped out of bed and dressed quickly, throwing on shirt and some pants. "C'mon. I'll take you now," he said with gentle urgency and a smile.

"Thanks," she mumbled, embarrassed. She quickly got her clothes back on.

The older otter kissed her cheek and ushered her down to the street where his car was. Helping her into the passenger side, he slipped behind the wheel and started the engine. Shifting into drive, he pulled out and turned into traffic, moving along at a brisk pace.

Veronica related her address to the otter, not worrying that he would know where she lived. "Park a little bit before it, okay?" she asked, her large, bushy tail curling up as if to go between her legs.

Nodding, Ryder turned onto the street she'd instructed him to take . Slowing down a few blocks away, he pulled into the first open spot and parked the car. Turning to the vixen, he offered an apologetic smile. "Be safe out there. Sorry for any trouble you might be in."

"Don't worry - I can handle him. Sorry again for..." she paused, unable to put her thought to words.

"Nothing to be sorry for."

He leaned forward to kiss her, knowing he shouldn't. He knew this was a one-time thing. But he couldn't help but feel more empty than all of his previous one-night stands combined. Those ladies got what they wanted, and he got what he wanted. But with Veronica, the thirty-year-old otter wanted more.

She kissed him back, then opened the car door. "Thanks - for everything," she said, swishing her fluffy white tail behind her. She didn't lie and suggest that she was planning to see him again. She just let it ride, her heart aching a little. Ryder had treated her so much better than her boyfriend, or her father, or her teachers...it felt nice to be with him - a wholly unfamiliar feeling. But she was pretty sure it wasn't meant to be. If he knew her real age...

"Bye," she said, leaving it at that.

Ryder gave the vixen a little wave and watched her walk until she was out of sight. For about half an hour, the otter sat there in silence, thinking. He knew her address, but something in him was convinced that seeking her out would be calamitous for both of them. The idea that their paths wouldn't cross again was painful though. Finally, after a long, pensive silence, he started the car and pulled out, the otter flicking on the radio and turning the volume up as high as it would go.