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Growing up, my family had this mulberry willow tree that grew out in our front yard around a scrubby garden. Mom called it Cousin Itt--you know, like the Addams Family? It had its trunk, and its branches went up and came down like a fountain so thick you could hide inside and not be seen from the street. Made a good spot to play as a kid.

During the spring, right as the new buds of leaves started to come in, my mom would go into its branches and prune the inner limbs. See, as the tree grows new branches on top of the old ones, which get less and less sunlight. They basically become dead weight, which makes the willow have trouble growing. So mom would prune it with a set of heavy handled sheers, and I got the job of collecting all the branches. I'd throw them in our trashcan, then toss a piece of cardboard on top before hopping in and stomping down with my little cloven hooves. Liked to imagine I was one of those people that stood in the tub and mashed grapes, though my work was just to make sure we had enough room to dump our trash later in the week.

Even with the pruning, mulberry willows don't grow very fast. We planted ours when it was about six feet tall, and by the time I moved out of my parent's place, I couldn't stand in Cousin It without my antler's getting caught on that ceiling of branches.

***

"Alright, relax," I whispered, rubbing the elbow of my partner. The shorter possum huddled against my side, wearing a light jacket in the mild Carolinian fall.

"I'm already regretting this," Jamie said.

"It won't be that bad." We waited in line for a haunted plantation tour. One of those strange revelries done in sites of the Old South that felt a little out of place. But, folks owned these old plantation homes, and I suppose they might as well do something more than historical tours.

We were at the gates of the property, promised hauntings that would be folks in masks coming out around trees to spook us. I had mixed feelings because places like this probably were haunted as fuck given all the brutal slavery that went on centuries before, but... Jamie and I talked ourselves into it. We couldn't really take the moral high ground when we milled about with others in line on the side of the crunched gravel road leading up to the place.

"So what is it about haunted houses?" I asked to get Jamie's mind off the wait.

I'd come down to visit for Halloween, which was Jamie's favorite time of the year. They were, by all accounts, a big horror buff. Movies, books, games, anything that might count as horror they found fascinating and fun. Most of the horror movies I had watched had been with them, either in person or streaming over discord. That was the one problem with our relationship: Jamie lived here, rooted and raised, and I lived in PA because that's where I got hired.

"I just, dunno, don't like the grabbing aspect?" Jamie said, glancing up to me with those big eyes and thinly furred triangular muzzle.

I leaned in and kissed their snout, then snuck a grope of their butt. They squeaked. "Hehehe, you never seem to mind when I grab you."

"Yeah, but you're not, like, a 6'6" bovine with a chainsaw in your other hand."

"What did chainsaws ever do to you?"

With a pouting look, Jamie said, "Listen, remember that one time I played dead?"

"Don't remind me," I said. It had been a year into our relationship. We'd been in downtown Pittsburgh a few weeks out from July Fourth when some kid lit one of those big mortar fireworks downtown. It got a start from me, hearing that big boom bang between buildings, but Jamie straight up passed out. That scared the shit out of me. I had 911 on the phone when they came to, and a crowd of people had gathered around.

"I just... I can't help it when it's real people involved," Jamie said. "That instinct comes up inside me, and it's happened before. It's so embarrassing, Carn."

And I imagined it stopped everyone else's fun dead in its tracks, too.

"Well, just hold onto me, and I'll keep you safe. And if it becomes too much we'll sneak off, alright?"

Jamie nodded and leaned their weight into me. "Thanks Carn."

I wrapped them in the red leather jacket I wore. "I got you, hun."

***

In film, they have this term called the golden hour. It's the early morning hours as the sun's coming up where the lighting is perfect for filming someone. Later in the day the sun can be too harsh. Not really sure why no one just does it at sunset, but I'm not a cinematographer.

Neither was my mother. But the golden hour happened to fall just at the time when I would be leaving for school. She would go into work late just to get a picture of me on the first day of school. Right in front of Cousin Itt, in that gentle morning light.

These pictures always came out fantastic.

Originally, they just stayed on her computer. When she got onto Facebook, she began posting them there--this long after I left the nest, but she did it for my younger sibling. A sister turned demi-brother; I'd find him a year older and another picture: the young doe's arm crossed beneath his ribs and holding his elbow awkwardly. Typically he dressed in an oversized hoodie to hide his budding feminine body, no matter how warm it might be.

I always felt bad not being there for him in those moments. Being a young queerdo from the south, I had an inkling what he must be going through.

Behind him, Cousin Itt looked the same as ever, trimmed branches just grown to the point they brushed the ground again.

***

"Doing good, hun?" I said as we came out the backdoor of the plantation. The entire trip through the building--in dark, faux-cobwebbed hallways, kitchens in red light and blood splatters, flashing lights, and furs moaning, groaning, and jumping out yelling--Jamie had been hugged to my back. We got outside with a group of shrieking teenage girls ahead of us. They were a chorus of banshees, and every time they howled in the adjacent room poor Jamie froze up against me. Behind us came a group of loud, drunk frat boys who laughed, made jokes, and had their own fun. I appreciated them breaking the immersion, for Jamie's sake. I'm pretty sure it was the only reason my partner didn't play dead.

The next part of the tour involved a haunted hayride, which promised to take us around the property while more masked actors tried their best to terrorize us. The plantation house had this woody smell mixed with an oxidized scent of too many smoke machines running at once. Now, outside, the fresh air of half-dry mud and fallen leaves lightened my spirits.

I got Jamie to let go of me so I could face them and said, "See? Already through the worst of it."

"I don't know," Jamie mumbled, huddled against my front now. "I should have taken a klonopin before we came out, fuck."

"You're doing great, hun. After this we'll get some coffee at a waho and just relax."

"Mmm," Jamie grunted. The comforting coffee smell and warmth of a waffle house had long since become a mutual retreat in our relationship. "I'm sorry for being like this."

I chuckled. "What? No, hun, it's perfectly fine. I'm sorry for talking us into this. If I knew you'd end up with the shakes I'd have picked us up some beers and we'd be watching Chopping Mall right now."

"We still could, later I mean?"

"Hehehe, plenty of bad horror movies we could watch, really."

My slender, long ear flicked on reflex when I head the distant grumble of the tractor.

Jamie heard it, too. They had been shivering, but now they went still.

"Come on, hun, almost through."

"Is it too late to turn back?" they asked. I glanced at the lit path that led around the house and off the property. It really was not. We could leave at any point.

"Do you want to leave?"

Jamie, who had buried their head in my jacket, freed themselves and let me go. They glanced at the way out, then shook their head. "No. I can do this."

"Are you sure?" I asked. "There is no shame--"

"I got this, Carn. Just don't let me go," Jamie said and hugged themselves to me again. I scratched behind their round, pale ears. They said into my jacket, "I'm not going to let this place get one over on me."

"Going to stick it to them?"

"Yeah," Jamie said, voice muffled by clothes and jacket. "Fuck them."

"That's the spirit."

"You're going to owe me, though. Big time."

"Coffee's on me."

"More than coffee."

"Hehehe, I figured that was always on the menu."

"Yeah, but..." Jamie hesitated, then they got on their tiptoes and whispered in my ear, "When I get scared like this I also get... well..." and I only noticed my possum had been standing with their hips away from me. Which they corrected, and when their whole body pushed up against me, I felt them hard in their jeans.

"Oh..."

"It's honestly embarrassing."

"I..." but now that I thought about it, Jamie and I did fuck soon as we got home that time they passed out. I'd not noticed any arousal then because I had been so afraid then relieved. And feeling their erection rubbing up against my upper thigh gave me an idea. It had been too long since...

Careful of the sharp-eared furs near us, I whispered in Jamie's ear, "What if we didn't go on the hayride?"

"What? But I just--"

"You wanted to stick it to them, yeah?"

"I..."

"Follow my lead, Jamie," I said. The tractor by then had pulled up. I said to the fennec fox dressed as a farmhand and said, "Yo, we're going to bail early. This the way out?" I knew it was cause the people getting off the hayride were heading down that trail.

The fennec, not breaking character, said, "You sure, sir?" I cringed at being misgendered but didn't bother correcting him. "Pumpkin patch is beautiful this time of year! Got some real special sites to show you and your friend there."

I offered a forced, polite smile. "We're good."

"Suit yourself. For folks coming along, step right up. We going to cross the fields, see the old servant houses and..." I tuned him out soon as he started pretending those shacks didn't house the slaves that once worked here.

"Come on," I told Jamie, arm wrapped around their shoulder. We walked out onto the trail, and I set my pace intentionally slow.

"What are we doing, Carn?" Jamie asked. The group ahead of us got farther away, and then I heard the tractor start its next tour.

I took my possum's hand and pulled them to a copse of trees. "I'm gonna pay you back right now."

***

My parents eventually sold that house. My grandfather died, and they moved into the house he built so they could take care of the place and my aging grandmother. I saw the house I grew up in one last time: gutted of all signs of life. Most of it smelled like dry wall and uprooted carpets. My brother's room, for better or worse, carried the smell of someone who masturbated compulsively all the time in it. A deer's scent could be very strong, and it lingered in that room despite my parents' best efforts.

This year I googled the house, just to check on it. Street view lets me linger on the past places of my life whether they're in Oklahoma, Arizona, New York, Michigan, or wherever else I might end up living. Problem is it can take years to update the street view on google maps. The picture of my old home is years old. Clearly winter as Cousin Itt is a tangle of leafless branches, and the grass is brown and dead except a neighbor's fertilized lawn which looks like it's painted green. I recognize the cars out in the driveway. It makes it feel like nothing has changed at all.

When I switch to satellite view, even at the poor, zoomed in resolution I can tell things have changed. A black sedan is in the driveway, and the lawn is mostly dead except for a few blossoms of green, drought resilient weeds. And Cousin Itt is still there, a pixilated green blob. I wonder if he's still pruned regularly. What his new caretakers think of that task, or if he is just left growing and growing: a person becoming hunched by the weight of a new ribcage swelling over their old ones every year.

***

Jamie's back hit the soft bark with a satisfying thud, then it arched as I burrowed my muzzle into their neck. I kissed the flesh hard, then pinched it between my teeth. Jamie's fingers dug into my nape.

"Carn is--I don't--"

I silenced them with a kiss. Jamie melted into it, moaning weakly when my tongue filled their maw. They did not take any more convincing. I dropped to my knees, the damp ground seeping into my jeans while I unbuttoned theirs. The smell of wet, mud, and leaves became replaced with excited possum musk. My partner shuddered, a little whimper from them as their long, bare tail wrapped around my chest to hug me. I nuzzled into their briefs, nosing the hard, throbbing length underneath the soft fabric. A little patch of moisture had gathered along the tip, then I was pulling the briefs down.

Jamie, through a great force of effort, I'm sure, planted a hand on my muzzle. "Wait, is this a good idea?"

We had retreated under the branches of a weeping willow, well out of sight of anyone on the property. I told them, "So long as you're quiet we should be fine."

They bit their lip, ears folding back. Eventually Jamie said, "Oka--aahahaahh," my lips around their shaft silenced them. Jamie had this strong earthy scent that drove me crazy. I quickly swallowed their entire cock with practiced ease, the pale, foreskinned shaft firm but soft in my maw. My nose buried into a thatch of black pubic fur. I took a loud breath so they knew I savored their scent before I started working my tongue on their shaft. Jamie's hands rested on my antlers. Their little warbling breath was so enticing and cute. They twitched and precum spilled across my tongue.

I loved the feeling of cock in my maw. From a canine's boiling heat and sharp taste to a possum's milder flavor and softer flesh. I began to bob my head, sucking hard on Jamie's poor, tortured length. I knew I would get them to cum in no time, but I wanted them to spill. My possum did, too. They started humping my face, a pleasured grimace twisting their features. Jamie always almost looked like they were in pain when they got close. Their nuts soon tensed up.

"Oh god, Carn..." We'd not done anything since waking up that morning. Their tail squeezed me tighter, hips jerking back and forth. "Oh fuck, ffffuck," I fondled their balls as they drew tight and sank to their base. Thick, warm seed filled the back of my muzzle while I suckled on my partner. They grabbed my antlers to keep from collapsing. I kept my suction fixed on their base, stimulating their cock without torturing the sensitive tip. More cum spilled inside maw. My cheeks nearly bulged with it when they finished. Finally, I released them with a gentle gasp. I let their seed, salty and viscous, settle across my taste buds, then swallowed with a gentle little moan.

"Holy shit," Jamie whispered. "I can't remember the last time I came that fast."

I giggled. Their cock remained hard, so I gave it a gentle flick and said, "You don't seem finished, though."

"You want to keep going?"

"I want to fuck you up against this tree," I said as I rose to my hooves. I'd gotten hard in all the excitement as well, and my bulge strained in my jeans. Jamie managed to make it out in the dark, eyes glued to it.

"Wh-what--"

"Turn around and let me see that thick little ass of yours."

With a subby squeak, Jamie acquiesced. They dropped their jeans and turned around and, hands planted on the tree, looked back and asked, "Wh-what about lube?"

"I got us covered." I fished my wallet from my jacket and pulled a small plastic pack of lube. If this were Jamie's first rodeo it wouldn't have been enough. But we were far from firsts at this point.

Jamie noticed the packet and asked as I put up my wallet, "Did you plan this?"

"No, I always keep lube on me when I go out."

"Really Carn?"

"Come on, you know me," I said with a little smirk as I undid my jeans. My bigger cock soon bobbed in the cool autumn air. I settled it in my possum's warm, plush crack, sliding through that fur and nudging their tail with my tip.

"I, uh, guess I do."

"Hehehe, you can thank me later for being a slut," I told them. I tore open the lube packet and spilled it on my hand before giving my cock a few quick pumps. Then, fingers still slick, I prodded Jamie's entrance. That soft pink entrance clenched a little at first touch, but then the flesh yielded. I dipped my fingers in and out, just a teasing touch to leave them slick. Jamie shuddered when the touch became the familiar heft of my cock against their pucker. "Remember," I whispered, grabbing hold of their hips, "keep quiet."

Perhaps Jamie knew I didn't want them to be quiet. In the distance, I heard the shrieks of that group of girls, and my possum answered with a long moan. Compared to the air outside, Jamie was a furnace. Their soft interior made me bite my lip till I got halfway inside that familiar heat. They were panting while I released a leisurely sigh. Like coming home, I once told them after a frantic I've-finally-seen-you-for-the-first-time-in-months fuck. Jamie, perhaps impatient, rocked their hips back, and the remainder of my shaft sank between their cheeks.

"Fuck that's good."

"U-uh-huh," Jamie whined.

"Doing okay?"

"Yeah..." they breathed, "Yeah, I can take it."

I patted their back and said, "That's my good girl."

They clenched up at that word. We'd only started using it in the past year, but...

"Oh my fuck... daddy," Jamie pleaded, "Please fuck me, daddy."

Despite being a trans woman, I didn't mind being called daddy. Not by Jamie, at least. My fingers dug in tight to their hips, and I obliged them. They held onto the tree for dear life, their tail twisting and whipping around, backside quaking with each thrust. My cock churned up their insides, and I angled my thrust downward to hit their prostate. Jamie moaned without a care in the world. I laughed while reaming their rear.

"That's my good girl," I growled. "Let everyone know how you like to be treated."

They tried their best to milk my cock. Those yielding, warm walls sucked me in and encouraged me to finish quicker and quicker. And I was going to finish quickly. The prior blowjob and public nature of this had my exhibitionist streak running wild. The thought that anyone might walk up and see me claiming this slut's rear made me nearly feral. Eventually I had hunched over Jamie's back, rutting them a little slower so I could grab their dick. Jamie squirmed and whined. They begged me to let them go, but I just kept stirring up their insides and jerking them off.

Till the possum pleaded, "Please, daddy, I don't wanna cum yet."

"Why not?" came my husky response in their ear. I was really close. My balls felt tight, and I kept up a slow, torturous pace. If I let myself rest hilted inside them, it would take one squeeze to set me off.

"Because d-daddy's not--"

"Oh but good girl's cum when daddy tells them to, don't they?" I shot back. I grunted and clenched my teeth. "D-don't you want to be a good girl?"

"Yes..." Jamie whimpered. "Yes, oh fuck..."

"Then cum for daddy," and their body answered. Another girlish moan into the dark, echoed by more shrieks, closer to us this time. I heard Jamie's cum shoot across the ground, the smell of sex strong in the air before I bit down on their shoulder through the jacket. I let myself stay sheathed in their tight sex and came. Their walls rippled against my length as seed spilled inside their bowels. My possum, such a good girl, shivered and struggled to hold me up while I remained still. Eight thick ropes of cum filled them, enough that they would be leaking later if they were not careful.

The trees tossing in the wind shook me from my moment. Jamie, panting against me, let out a rattling exhale. "Holy shit Carn."

I released their shoulder, wiping some drool off their jacket. Gingerly, I pulled out and took a step back. Both of us still shook a little as we made ourselves decent again.

When we had, I said, "So, uh, want to go to waffle house still?"

"You're buying this time."

Laughing, I hooked my arm around my possum, and we quickly found our way back onto the trail.

***

"So it reminded you of this tree?" Jamie asked.

We both sat in facing booths of a waffle house. On the table, two mugs of coffee: mine black and theirs with cream and sugar stirred exactly three times.

"Yeah, I was thinking about it on the way back. And about how you have to take care of it," I said before resting my elbows on the table to cradled my mug and warm my hands. "I was thinking about what are the things I'm pruning from my life, you know? So I can keep growing."

Jamie took a nervous sip. "Are you about to break up with me?"

A nervous laugh broke the tension between us. "What? No! I love you, Jamie, come on. You're like my trunk, or a piece of my trunk. Felix is another part, I guess."

"Then?"

"Felix doesn't have any family or anything attaching him to Pitt, and we've been talking about what's keeping us there lately. We don't mind it, but I think we're not ready to settle down there."

Now Jamie gave me this glassy stare that reminded me of the haunted house. "You-you're moving?"

"Not yet! And maybe not necessarily here. Depends on where I get a job, you know?"

Jamie relaxed a little, and I rested my hand on the table, palm up. They took it and we squeezed hands. "But I am sick of all this distance, you know? Maybe we'll end up here, maybe elsewhere."

"Yeah?"

I squeezed their hand. "Yeah. But when it does come, I am going to have to start pruning again. Figure out what needs to go so I can grow. Maybe we both will need to."

Jamie nodded to show they understood where I was going, but said, "I don't know if I can leave here, Carn."

I more felt the sad smile cross my face than make it myself. I said, "Just think about it? Whatever happens, I know we've still got plenty of growing to do together."

"Mmm, no more haunted houses, though."

"You sure? You're pretty cute when you're scared."

"Ugh, you can be the worst sometimes."

I lifted their hand and kissed it. "Mmm, love you, too, Jamie."

"Sure thing, Cousin Itt."