FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

This story was written for JEM as part of their top tier Patreon reward for April 2019. It contains F/Solo masturbation and M/F sex between consenting adults, and magical gem enhanced sexiness. :3

Carmelita Gets Outfoxed

Carmelita's eyes sprang open, and a sharp gasp escaped the vixen's lips as she dragged herself free from the clutches of the dream. Only, it wasn't just a dream. No dream could make the Interpol inspector's face burn like she could feel it burning now, and no dream could make her chest heave up and down amidst the furious, ragged panting which the female fox now found herself uncontrollably performing. The reason it had affected her so intensely was quite simply that what had consumed Carmelita for however long she had been asleep, and the veritable eternity it felt as though she had endured it within the unconscious experience itself, was a memory. A memory of an experience which had taken place months ago now, but which had remained with her constantly ever since, locked away at the back of her mind yet rattling its chains so loudly that it was never truly able to be forgotten or even temporarily cast aside.

Even now, awake and conscious of the fact that it was a memory from months ago rather than something which in her dream she had been re-living right there and then, the fox couldn't stop thinking about it. She couldn't keep from picturing herself creeping through Dimitri's mansion, undercover and in search of a stolen statue of immense rarity and thus value. Even now her breath continued to escape her in ragged pants and soft, barely audible whimpers as she found herself caught up in that memory yet again, creeping closer and closer to the door of the ballroom despite knowing what would happen if she opened the doors. Knowing what she would do, what she would be impossibly, uncontrollably and sincerely compelled from the bottom of her heart to do if she stepped into that room, but unable to keep herself from walking forward towards that same, inescapable fate.

"N-no... please..."

Trembling as she lay under the covers of her bed, body shifting, eyes shut once again despite her consciousness while her face glowed hotter and hotter beneath her fur, Carmelita whimpered softly as in her mind's eye the doors to that grand ballroom swung open, and she looked through them to see a vast crowd gathered, a dinner party for all Dimitri's finest and most villainous companions. And on the stage, serving as the night's entertainment for one and all to enjoy... she saw herself, dressed up in lacy underwear, in a boa of lush, soft feathers, and in high heels which she soon kicked aside, the rest of her clothes following suit as she began to dance and strip for the crowd. Of course, as soon as she looked into her own eyes from the doorway, Carmelita was standing in it no longer. She was the version of herself on the stage. The version of herself taking off more and more of her clothes as she danced and straddled a smooth, cool metal pole, grinding against it, tossing back her head and letting her hair flow free as she moaned beneath the music and before the eyes of hundreds upon hundreds of grinning, lustfully staring criminals and their dates.

And of course, as she stared out over the crowd, she saw him. Him. Sly Cooper, that damn thief whom she had been trying to capture for so long. Him standing at the back of the ballroom in a slick suit of the same blue tone as his normal heist outfit, watching her and idly fondling the crotch of his suit trousers with one hand like he didn't care how public and exposed he was, while in the other he held... the statue. The idol which Carmelita had been here to retrieve in the first place. He winked at her as she danced on and on, helpless to do anything else. He smiled at her as she stared out across the crowd, his eyes upon her naked body more intense and potently affecting than however many dozens upon dozens of people were also watching her. Then Sly slipped out of the very same door through which Carmelita had first entered the room, and with one final look back at the fox's bouncing, bared breasts and writhing, erotically dancing body, he squeezed his crotch once again and slipped out of sight.

Carmelita groaned under her breath as she thought about how humiliating that night had been. How embarrassing it had been to have to write up that report explaining what lengths she had gone to in order to maintain her cover and her access to the mansion, and how after all of that it had been for nothing. The idol was gone, and she had seen neither hide nor hair of it or indeed the Cooper gang since. And on top of all that, her brain simply wouldn't allow her to forget about it. It wasn't bad enough that it had happened, her mind had to remind her almost daily about every last little detail of it, forcing her to re-live the entire experience over and over and over again. Recalling the intensity of the embarrassment as she bared her breasts before countless criminals and strangers, laughing and cheering for who they had of course thought was a mere look-alike of the Interpol inspector who had been on so many of their cases, putting on a show for their amusement. Remembering how hot and humiliatingly her face had burned as she bared her ass to them and wiggled it from side to side. How they'd whooped and cheered when she turned around and showed them her pussy, spinning with ease upon the dancing pole and stretching out her legs as she danced, exposing herself obscenely to all those eyes... and in particular, to Sly's hungry gaze.

"Please..."

She whimpered once again, thinking more helplessly, more inescapably still about him. About the raccoon who had watched her, and touched himself while he did so without any shame or even the slightest sign of having a single care in the world. The raccoon who was so adept as a criminal that he had not only snuck right into the mansion of another criminal to steal from him, but had felt confident enough in his abilities to take the time to linger. To watch Carmelita dance. To see her naked, and to practically masturbate himself right in front of her and everyone else present, letting her know exactly how he felt about her dancing abilities, not to mention her body.

"...watch me, Sly."

The fox moaned as she finally kicked and dragged aside the bedding from her still squirming, still rather overheated body. In doing so of course, she revealed precisely why she was still quivering, panting and still so very hot under the collar, though she wore no collar nor indeed a stitch of anything else. Beneath the bed-covers, Carmelita was naked as she had been that day upon the stage. Naked, thighs spread apart and one hand uncontrollably working her middle and ring digits in and out of her wet, desperately needy pussy at breakneck speed. Yes, she might have been so incredibly ashamed and humiliated by what she had done that night at Dimitri's place, but for some unfathomable reason whenever she woke from one of those intense and vividly re-lived memories, there was a part of herself which couldn't help but love it. A part of her that was not just enthralled and aroused by the fact that she had been so exposed and so very naked in front of all those people, but in particular that she had been naked in front of Sly himself, and that her nudity had prompted obvious excitement and arousal within the raccoon.

Throughout their rivalry, from the very first time that she had been assigned to track him down and stop Cooper and his gang from conducting their criminal activities, Sly had always flirted with her. Teased her. Baited her into believing that she had him exactly where she wanted him, only to reveal that it was in fact precisely the other way around. And though of course Carmelita had never responded positively to his attempted charms, knowing full well that he was a criminal who would say and do anything that he could in order to gain an advantage over the woman who was trying to arrest him, that didn't mean he had entirely failed in his attempts to make her think about him as more than just a hardened professional thief.

After their most recent encounter though, something had changed within Carmelita. Whatever soft spot, whatever weakness and affection she had felt for Sly already had been amplified a thousand times over. Whenever she thought about him now, much as she still hated him for being a thief and flagrantly disobeying the laws of the land which if followed by all would keep all society a peaceful and far more wonderful place in which to exit, she was at the exact same time overwhelmed by desire for him. By his desire for her.

"Oh. Ohh, d-dammit, Sly. Watch me. Please. Watch me while I... oh god, I'm... I'm gonna..."

Her face burned hotter, brighter, as Carmelita spread her legs wider and imagined herself standing in that ballroom once again. Only this time the room wasn't filled with hundreds of criminals dining and laughing and wolf whistling at her as she danced and showed off her body to them. It was empty aside from one single figure sitting at one single table, chair pushed back, suit cast aside, lounging in his seat while openly masturbating his hard cock to the sight of Carmelita's dancing. Except, she wasn't dancing any more. Not in her fantasy. Not in the hijacked masturbatory imagining which was for the first time in countless days and weeks supplanting and successfully overwriting her mind's seemingly obsessive need to simply replay to her the actual events of what she had been through, and what she had let Sly see of her.

Just like in reality, she was masturbating. Still spinning around the pole, but with one hand clutching at it as the other delved and teased between her legs, pulling her fingers free every now and then to show off their glistening wetness in the spotlight that was focused upon her, allowing Sly to see every inch of her naked body in the finest possible detail. No longer was she fighting to deny or ignore this memory. No longer was she struggling to tell herself that her obsession with it did not mean what it so obviously seemed to suggest. She was surrendering. No. Not surrendering, because this wasn't a bad thing. She was admitting the truth. Expressing herself openly and honestly to her own heart and mind for the first time in months.

"I love you, Sly..."

Carmelita gurgled to the man whose skills, whose charms and whose handsome face had combined in their efforts to drive her to this place, to this moment. Her fingers splashed wetly at her pussy as she arched her back, lifting her hips up off the bed and dragging her thighs yet further apart, obscenely showing off to her empty bedroom as though hoping that through the curtains or from some hidden spot or secretly recording camera, Sly was watching her even now.

"I... oh god. Oh god, I can't stop it. I caahh... can't control it. Sly, I... I love you so fucking much. Please. Let me find you. Let me tell you. Let me show you how I... oh. Oh god. Oh. Ohh! Oohhhhhhgod, Sly! I'm... ahhh... I'm cumming!"

Her whimpers rose to cries. Her cries to screams.

"I'm cumming! Cumming!! _Ahhhhyessss, Sly! Cumming! _"

She thrashed. Writhed. The fox's toes curled, her thighs quivered, and she held her fingers within herself, twitching and rubbing all the while as white hot ecstasy crashed over her in an all consuming tide. Quite by accident her thumb grazed her clit as the digit shifted position amidst one bucking stroke of her hips, and Carmelita shrieked at the sudden, unexpected intensity of the sensation it provoked while in her mind Sly himself began to cum, painting his chest and face with thick ribbons of cum as he panted, grinned and watched her lose all control and decorum so shamelessly before his lingering, lustful gaze.

When she began to come down from the high of her climax, Carmelita expected to feel guilty. To feel freshly and powerfully ashamed and humiliated by the fantasy which had gotten so wildly out of hand within her head. But, much to the fox's surprise, the shame and humiliation she felt as her mind once again flicked back to that fateful night in the ballroom felt measurably less intense than before, albeit not entirely diminished. Even more shocking to her though, and worrying in some regard, was the fact that just as guilt did not rise within her once again, the other feelings that had risen into her conscious mind during that same dream and its subsequent fantasy follow-up were not fading. She still felt as though she cared for Sly in spite of all his criminality and all the times he had humiliated her by outsmarting her and getting away with heist after heist. Still it felt honest and right for Carmelita to recognise that she loved the raccoon not in spite of everything he was, but because of it. Much as that fact surprised her though, it didn't scare her. It didn't disgust or appal her. In fact as she lay there in the wake of her orgasm, slowly catching her breath and waiting for the feeling to return to her arms and legs so she could get up and get ready to start the day, Carmelita felt one emotion overriding all the others circulating and spiralling around her in that moment.

She felt relief.

Relief that at last, no matter how unexpected the outcome, she now understood why she had been unable to stop thinking about that experience. Why she had been unable to keep herself from obsessively replaying that night from months ago over and over in her head, and why it had made her so, so horny both at the time and when she thought back on it, no matter how humiliated she felt and how many times she had told herself that she didn't want to enjoy or desire any aspect of it. Now, she knew what had denied her that closure. Now she understood what lay at the root of all those interrupted nights of sleep and fevered waking masturbation sessions to thoughts which had until today only brought her embarrassment and confusion.

It was because of Sly.

It was if not solely, then at least vastly the result of Sly's presence there.

And now that she knew that, now that she understood how she felt, if not exactly why she felt that way about the raccoon... she could start to work to move on from it. To stop loving him, and put this little blip on her moral compass into the past where it belonged.

Slowly, not weary but actually rather satisfied and energised by her recent masturbation, Carmelita pulled herself out of bed. She took a quick shower in the en-suite bathroom, dressed herself in her usual attire; underwear, blouse, trousers, all the while considering going to grab a bagel or something similar from a local store for breakfast. Her mind felt oddly light as she did so, not bogged down as it had been for the last few months by near constant intrusive thoughts of that same repeated event. Thus as she headed for her bedroom door after dressing, fully intent on slipping on her boots and jacket and heading out right away, there was a warm smile upon the vixen's face.

A smile which only faded for a moment, before uncontrollably, helplessly returning again in wonder-struck awe, as she pulled the bedroom door open ready to step out into the living room beyond... and found the furniture and decorations of her living room gone. Or rather, replaced and changed in their entirety, with only three stand-out objects resting in that room now.

A solitary, firm oak wood dining chair.

A side table close by it to the right, upon which a small bluetooth speaker dock stood with a cell phone mounted within it.

And finally, most prominently, seated upon the aforementioned chair in his signature blue outfit with just one notable change... a complete lack of any clothing on the lower half of his body; Sly Cooper himself.

"Cooper!"

Carmelita gasped, reaching for her shock pistol instinctively before realising two things. Firstly that she didn't have it because she was neither at work nor on assignment from work, and secondly that in that moment whether due to post-orgasmic relaxation or other intimate feelings less explicitly related to her recent release, she wasn't nearly as motivated to zap or even to attempt arresting him. After all, if she arrested him then she would have to take him into work, and ask him questions there where his answers would be recorded and listened to by other Interpol members. But, if she were to ask him questions here... she could ask him things much more personal. Things less related to recent crimes he was suspected to have committed, and much more related to what was standing erect and throbbing between his firmly, unabashedly spread legs.

Before the fox could ask Sly anything though; before she could even begin to conjure up even one of the myriad questions she had for him, a toothy grin crossed the lithe raccoon's face. His cock twitched and strained once again, Carmelita's legs briefly threatening to give out beneath her as she saw a trickle of pre-cum dribble its way down the underside of Sly's shaft. Then, as though it was the most natural and perfectly sensible thing he could possibly do, Sly leaned over to the table beside him, tapped at the screen of the phone mounted in the speaker dock, and rose to his feet as music began to play. Suggestive, seductive music which Carmelita recognised in an instant, because it was the very same music to which she had been dancing... to which she had been stripping that day at Dimitri's mansion. The day when Sly had seen her naked and watched her dance, and the day when on some deep, long subconscious level Carmelita had realised as she was doing it, that she was enjoying the way he watched her way, way too much.

"Oh god, Cooper... you... you can't be here. You can't be doing this."

The vixen whispered far too quietly for the raccoon to hear her across the room, not because she couldn't bring herself to speak up, but because it was the ashamed, embarrassed part of her brain that was speaking those words and the portion of Carmelita which was in love with Sly had zero interest in letting such sabotage of its own plans take place. As she stood and watched in relative silence though, Sly proved the embarrassed and incredulous part of her brain increasingly incorrect as he not only remained present and very much real in her suddenly redecorated living room, but did precisely what it seemed like he was about to do. He started to dance.

Bending over the front of the chair, palms down upon its seat, the raccoon lifted his tail and swayed his tight ass from side to side while Carmelita watched in transfixed wonder. He swung around again to face her as the music continued to play, and strutted around the chair in a wide circle first one way, then the other, enough of a lilt to every step he took to make his cock bounce and his balls jiggle and swing slightly, loose and heavy as they currently appeared. Soon he came to a halt behind the chair, and a strangled whimper that was most definitely audible to the raccoon escaped Carmelita's lips as he began to grind against it in a way that shouldn't have been nearly as sexy as it was, the vixen finding herself forced to place both hands over her muzzle to hold back a far more overt and lustful plea than she was quite ready to let slip at that point when Sly began to thrust his hips and slide his cock between the wooden slats upon the chair's back.

If Carmelita thought that dancing and showing off his nude, aroused lower body was all that Sly could do to tantalise her though, she was soon to be proven so very, very wrong. For another couple of minutes he danced and showed off for her, tossing aside his cap after twirling it upon his finger and gyrating his hips along with the motion of the hat, and turning around to wiggle his rump at her again, this time around going so far as to spank and playfully squeeze his own cheeks as though tempting the vixen to step forward and do the very same. After that though, when he turned to face Carmelita once again and grinned as he saw what the fox was doing, something which Carmelita herself only recognised in that moment, he began to step forward. To approach the vixen as she stood there and whimpered louder still in lust and a very different, hopeful kind of embarrassment when she like Sly himself realised that at some point one of her hands had fallen down the length of her body and was now sandwiched between her thighs, not moving actively but doing nothing to keep her own hips from rocking and thus effectively grinding her pussy down against that waiting, all too helpful paw.

"Please, I..."

She began to whisper as Sly stopped a few paces away from her. Close enough to reach out and touch her if he wanted to, or close enough for her to reach out and touch him. Not knowing how that sentence she'd started was meant to end though, Carmelita's voice soon trailed off into a breathless whimper when she saw Sly's right hand reaching into one of the pouches upon his belt. It remained within for just a moment, and as it touched whatever lay inside the little leather pouch Carmelita swore she saw the raccoon's eyes roll back for the briefest instant, his cock leaping and dribbling yet more pre-cum as though merely touching whatever it was that lay within had intensely excited him. Then he pulled it out, and outstretched the arm in which the object was now clasped within the closed digits and palm of his hand.

Sly smiled at Carmelita, and as his eyes lingered playfully, flirtatiously as ever upon the fox's own, he spoke to her for the first time since arriving here today with a tender murmur.

"This gem was stolen. I want you to take it from me, so it can be back in the right hands. Exactly where it needs to be."

Carmelita blushed and blinked sharply.

Work?

He wanted to discuss work, to talk to her about Interpol business and report or perhaps even confess to a crime, now??

Before she could get too confused or angry about that though, the vixen's mind was rendered almost entirely blank as Sly's other hand slipped forward and wrapped his fingers around hers, lifting her right arm with his left and ever so gently squeezing her fingers... fingers which less than a couple of hours ago had been buried deep inside her pussy, making her scream and cum to thoughts of that very raccoon, and that very cock still rock hard and twitching just feet away from where Carmelita was standing.

"Inspector, I... Carmelita. Please. I need you to trust me on this. I know you have absolutely no reason to do so. I know you have a million reasons not to. But, please. Please, I... I don't want to flirt from across rooftops and spend my life running from you any more. And, unless everything this gem has shown me is a lie, I don't think you want to keep chasing me, but never catching me either."

What Sly meant by that, by what the gem had told him, Carmelita didn't know. But, the other things he was saying, not only seeming to know how she had been feeling but admitting to having feelings of his own... feelings for her , were more than enough to make her pay much closer attention as the raccoon continued to address her.

"I need you to open your hand, and take this gem from me. I need you to want to take it, and to know that this isn't a trick. It isn't a joke. It's a gift. Not just from me, but... from someone who has seen us, who has been watching us both for a long time, a-and... and who knows the truth of our lives, our relationship to one another far, far better than we ever have. We can learn though. I already have, a-and... if you touch the gemstone, you will too. And once we both know. Once we both see the potential we have, I... god, Carmelita. Please. From the bottom of my heart, I'm begging you. Trust me. Just this once. Just this one time forget that I'm a liar, and a cheat, and a criminal. And, I'll forget it too. Just please... please. Trust me."

For a few moments, no-one spoke. No-one moved. No-one even dared to breathe.

Then, drawing a soft whimper of pure relief and gratitude from Sly's lips, a sound that would have without a doubt been the most sincere and beautiful utterance Carmelita had ever heard from him were it not for the comments he had just made to her, the fox squeezed Sly's hand back as she nodded to him.

"I... I will."

She whispered, not knowing how she could be so certain of that fact, but still knowing it regardless.

"I do."

Her other rose to rest beneath his own outstretched hand. His fingers opened, and without a moment's hesitation Sly surrendered the grape-sized orange gemstone within to Carmelita. No sooner had it made contact with the pads of her paw though, the vixen's eyes widened as the gemstone began to glow. She looked up from it, staring at Sly's face not in suspicion, not in anger at the belief she had been betrayed, but in absolute wonder as she felt something happening to... no, not to her. Nothing about her was changing or being changed by the raccoon, by the gemstone, by anything. If anything at all was happening to her, it was simply a reversal of priorities. The sudden feeling of weightlessness that came from a substantial burden being lifted from one's conscience, and instead a feeling of warmth and lightness that came from self-acceptance of something that she had already believed on some level to be true. Beyond that though, it was the rest of the world that was changing in ways that Carmelita could not see, but knew as certainly as she knew herself. And as it did so, the gem within her hand glowed brighter and brighter and brighter still until Carmelita could barely see Sly's face.

For a moment everything was pure white. The world was a vast, shining ball of brightness with Carmelita and the gemstone in her hand at it's centre, though all the while she could feel Sly right there with her, his hand still clutched tight in hers. Then, the light faded, and as it did so Carmelita felt one last thing changing, much closer to home than anything else, and yet at the same time much more surface level, purely for aesthetics.

She felt the trousers wrapped around her legs shifting, flowing. She felt the blouse around her upper body shrinking and tightening, and gasped, then giggled as she looked down amidst the fading light to see that no longer were a pair of smart, utilitarian work pants wrapped around her legs, but in their place a glimmering blue sequinned miniskirt. A halter top now rested where her blouse had been, her simple cotton bra no longer present at all. She was so much more exposed now, but it didn't feel the slightest bit unnatural. In fact, it felt like it was just the beginning of a freedom that Carmelita had always craved deep down. A freedom she had revelled in when she was racing across the world in search of Sly, but one which she had never been able to truly experience for herself when she finally reached the raccoon only to find herself defaulting back to law and order, and demanding he restrain himself rather than setting herself loose alongside him.

But, no longer.

She moaned. She giggled. She let go of Sly's hand, grabbed him instead by the wrist, and boldly pushed the raccoon back with the palm of her free hand against his chest until he stumbled, chuckled, and allowed himself to be shoved several steps backwards until he tumbled with a yelp of mirth back into his seat from earlier.

"You're a bad boy, Cooper."

She murmured to the raccoon, licking her lips as he leaned back in the chair, raised an eyebrow, and growled playfully as though daring her or anyone else to claim he was anything but that.

"So, so bad."

Carmelita whispered, turning on the spot as the music which Sly had left playing all this while continued to echo out around the empty space of her transformed, suddenly exceptionally minimalist living room. Her ass swayed in her skirt, the bottom of her plump buttocks practically visible beneath the lower limits of the short, seductive garment. Her tail whipped back and forth with its brush-like tip wiggling in front of Sly's nose, and then she backed up. She spread her legs, shuffled down onto the raccoon's lap, and began to grind her skirt-clad rump against his still rigid, exposed cock.

"And... all I want is to be with you."

The vixen moaned as she rocked and danced and gave Sly the first and only lap dance she had given to any lover in her life.

"To be with you, and... to be bad with you."

She listened to his moans for a short while, but soon it was Carmelita herself who cried out as Sly's arms wrapped around her from behind, making no effort to conceal their intent as he cuddled her around the chest, hands soon falling open palmed upon the front of her halter top. A few moments after that his lips met the back of her neck, and Carmelita shuddered in joy as she heard Sly whisper back to her.

"You could never be bad. Anything you do... it's perfect. That's why I know when you go on a job with me, when we slip into a museum or some fat-cat's pad to take something, I never have second thoughts. Never doubt myself. Because when you do something, it's good. And if you choose to believe in me and what I'm doing, what we're doing together; taking stolen artefacts and returning them to the people, the countries they were stolen from by invaders to begin with. If you believe in that, I know it must be good."

Carmelita giggled, and moaned as through the fabric of her halter top Sly's fingers began to tease her nipples while she rocked and ground and danced ever more lustfully over his straining, twitching cock, able to feel its tip rubbing against her thighs as her motion allowed the length of his manhood to begin slipping under the hem of her skirt.

"Interpol would disagree. I should know, I used to work for them until I met you."

Sly chuckled and tugged at a portion of the fabric of Carmelita's top, the vixen squealing with surprise and laughter as the sudden movement did precisely what the raccoon was clearly hoping for, her right breast popping loose into the open air of the living room, Sly's hand immediately fondling and squeezing it.

"Of course they would. They're cops. And like most cops, if they're faced with a choice between what they know is right and what the law says is technically correct, they'll ignore their conscience and support the status quo ninety nine percent of the time. Only the bravest challenge that. And, like you, they don't often stay cops for long once they start to think for themselves."

As he spoke, Sly teased Carmelita's other breast free, and only then coaxed the vixen into lifting her arms and allowing him to pull the halter back up and over her breasts before removing it entirely. After that his hands remained on Carmelita's breasts for several minutes without pause, exploring, teasing, fondling, making the fox gasp and whine and urging her wordlessly to grind and dance against him harder. His own breathing grew heavier. More eager, frantic, laden with heavy passions. But only when in a moment of more vigorous grinding Carmelita felt the raccoon's bare, exposed cock slide entirely between her legs and grind against the silky lace fabric of her very tight, very meagre panties where they rested protectively, albeit in that moment unwanted against her pussy, did they cry out in such pleading unison that it forced them both to new heights of action.

Twisting upon the spot, swinging one leg away from Sly only to shift back into position astride him, only this time facing him head on, Carmelita placed her hands on the raccoon's shoulders and began to dance and grind against him even more vigorously. They were practically dry humping by that stage, and thus it wasn't much surprise that before long their lips were entwined in a deep kiss which felt oddly familiar to Carmelita though she knew within at least a portion of her mind that in the world she had come from before today, before the gemstone, she had never kissed Sly before. Thus, it felt familiar and wonderfully well versed, like slipping into a comfortable pair of shoes you could always rely upon, yet with all the passion and urgency of a true first kiss. Even as that first incredible kiss came to an end, Carmelita was ready for more. And she would have claimed a second one immediately, had she not been even more eager to do one other thing to Sly first. She reached down, grasped the base of his blue fitted tunic, and dragged it up and over his head and arms with a whimper of longing. With his crotch already exposed that single action rendered him naked before and beneath her, and if the fox had thought that the raccoon was attractive before, her head span with the fevered frenzy of her longing for him after that point.

"Tell me you'd chase me to the end of the world..."

Sly growled softly, tenderly as he cradled Carmelita in one arm, allowing her to tilt her torso back and expose her breasts for him to admire, to bury his face between and run his tongue across with a deep, longing moan which echoed between them both.

"Never."

Carmelita whimpered as she pulled herself upright once more, and instead found her lover's hands reaching down to her skirt and the zip running down one side of its revealing form.

"Never. I'd be running alongside you, hand in hand. Not a step behind, or ahead."

Her skirt fell aside. She sat upon Sly in nothing but her sleek black panties, no longer grinding or rocking against his erect cock, simply resting on his lap with his erection sandwiched between her thighs and against the front of her panties, doing her best to rub the shaft of his cock against herself in a way that stimulated her clit through the fabric of her underwear. Before she could say anything more to the raccoon however, and before she could do anything more to him, or indeed to pleasure herself through him, she felt Sly's hands slip down her back. She felt him tease his fingers around the base of her tail, and whimpered happily, lustily as his digits slid down the inside of her panties and he cupped her beautiful buttocks without restraint or any impediment between his fingers and her furred flesh. His lips met hers again, and again, and again, three kisses stealing her breath away in rapid succession. Then with a pleading moan as he parted their muzzles, Sly's lithe but strong body pushed off and away from the chair, and with Carmelita's legs wrapping around his waist and her arms already round his shoulders, he held her aloft against him, supporting her weight by her gorgeous, ever so squeezable backside.

"Let's run, then."

He growled to her tenderly, taking a shaky step forward as he grew accustomed to bearing her weight, then another.

"Run with me, a-and... never let go. Never stop. So hard and so fast, no-one will ever catch us. No-one will ever find us."

Carmelita whined giddily and nodded as she took the initiative and kissed Sly all over his flushed, panting face as he carried her away. Not out of her apartment, not out of her home and out into the world where they could run and run and run and run forever, but rather, back from whence Carmelita had first emerged to find him earlier that morning. Back into her bedroom, carrying her over to a larger, more lushly covered and all around more luxurious bed than she recalled being there before, and tumbling forward with her onto its cosy sheets.

"So hard..."

He echoed as he rubbed his rock hard cock against the crotch of her panties once more, before drawing back just far enough to loop his thumbs under the waistline of her lace underwear and to begin teasing it down the trembling vixen's legs.

"So fast..."

He moaned as he bared Carmelita entirely, and not for the first time regarded her with a warm, playful, teasing smile that once the vixen might have taken to be mockery, but which she now knew to be the raccoon's deepest and most heartfelt adoration. She giggled, and whispered back to him.

"To the ends of the earth."

The raccoon trembled, nodded, and stepped closer once more. He scrambled up onto the bed. He crawled over her. He leaned down, pressing himself against Carmelita's beautiful, naked body as she murmured joyously to him what their hearts and eyes were both singing in a wordless chorus inside and between them.

"Anywhere. Everywhere. We'll run together. A-and... so long as we do, the most precious treasure of all will always be right there within our grasp."

By Jeeves

Like my stories? Want access to a whole host of writing weeks or even months before it appears on other sites as well as exclusive request days to get stuff written for yourself? Consider supporting me on patreon with rewards from as low as $5 per month! https://www.patreon.com/jeevesroo :D