FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Well here it is, the first story I'm publishing here! Admittedly I'm a bit rusty, especially when it comes to writing spicier content, but hopefully some out there might enjoy this. I've been kicking around this idea for a little while and finally got around to it.

Hope you all enjoy, and please leave any constructive feedback you might have!

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Even at the best of the times, the north Atlantic ocean was unforgiving. Storms could form in mere hours, peaceful waters and clear skies giving way to gut-turning swells and torrential downpours that blotted out the skies overhead. Spring and summer offered only brief reprieves, a few months of gloriously warm and pleasant weather before the seas turned violent yet again.

Sam could only dream of those warmer times standing aboard the deck of the USS Van Reynolds, shivering and gritting his teeth as another gust of biting, frigid November wind drove the rain into his face like a thousand ice-cold needles. The thermal lining of his flight deck uniform had long since lost its warmth, and the entire length of his tail had long-since gone numb. He took that as a mercy; at least he couldn't feel just how cold it was anymore. He reached out to grab a nearby railing as the ship rolled beneath him, struck by a massive wave to the port side. Being an otter, he'd earned his sea legs a bit faster than most, but the lakes and rivers where he'd grown up were no comparison to the fury of the Atlantic. He still found himself caught off-guard from time to time, slamming into a bulkhead or being knocked off his feet by an unexpected wave. The Van Reynolds was far too large to capsize in even the worst of storms, but that didn't mean her crew was exempt from the laws of motion.

A sharp whistle caught his attention. Rook, their deck chief, held up two fingers while tapping his helmet with the other hand. Flight inbound, two minutes. Trying to speak over the howling wind or screaming engines of aircraft was useless, and so they relied primarily on hand signals to communicate. It was one of the many things Rook had taught him over the past two years. The raccoon had been in the service longer than some of the crew members had been alive, yet he'd turned down three opportunities to become an officer and get off the flight deck. Sam had to admire his determination, if not his sanity.

Making sure his radio and headset were connected, Sam unhooked the two long LED light-bars from where they hung on his belt. He clicked the buttons experimentally, both flashing to life.

"Time to go to work." He muttered under his breath, teeth chattering as he stepped out onto the deck along with four other crew, taking his place near the landing pad.

While the Van Reynolds was equipped to handle conventional jet aircraft, the overwhelming majority of the aircraft aboard the carrier consisted of ion-powered craft capable of vertical take-off and landing. He could only imagine what it had been like in the "old days", when pilots had to catch a series of steel cables strung across the flight deck to bring their aircraft to a abrupt stop. Of course, landing on a moving ship as it bobbed up and down in the rolling seas was still an inherently dangerous process. And that was where he and the other deck crew came in. Ensuring the aircraft came to a safe landing, giving instructions to pilots so their craft didn't end up in the ocean.

He keyed the mic affixed to the front of his vest, shouting above the wind and pelting rain. "Riptide flight, deck control. Confirm your dope."

Dope was slang for all the information pilots would relay to the deck crews on take-off or landing. Approach direction, speed, the number of planes, flight condition, and anything else they would need to know. And as soon as the response came, Sam knew exactly who was on the other end. Tikka's voice was unmistakable, always calm and collected no matter how dire things had gotten up in the air.

"Control, Riptide. Reading you signal one, flight of five out of...two-two-eight degrees, four green ship, Riptide one yellow."

His heart thumped a bit harder. "Copy Riptide one, status?"

"Minor shrapnel damage to the starboard wing, all control surfaces and power systems in the green."

Sam pursed his lips for a moment before replying. "Copy Riptide one, need the deck clear for an emergency landing?"

He knew the answer already, but it was procedure to ask. "That's a negative control, she's still flying just fine. Just gonna need some new paint. We'll be overhead in thirty seconds."

Almost certain that he could hear the smirk through the radio, Sam took his place on the landing pad and began to search the foreboding skies ahead. On a clear day he could see the aircraft coming in from miles away, but with the low-hanging storm clouds they would be nearly on top of him before he could see anything.

He heard them first, the humming whine of ion engines cutting through the rumble of machinery and wind. As the first ship appeared out of the haze he lifted the light-bars, signaling to the plane nearest him as the others split off to their respective landing pads. A thin trail of smoke drifted from the right wing as it descended, drifting lower and lower with its twin engines pointed down towards the deck. Moving the light-bars in a series of intricate patterns, Sam guided the aircraft down until it finally landed with a soft thump. Two more crew members quickly rushed in and began to secure the craft, Sam approaching once it had been latched into place with powerful electromagnetic clamps.

The VK-82, colloquially known as the Valkyrie, wasn't large by any means, though its small size and relatively high power made it a serious threat in the air. The twin ion engines slid back into the main fuselage and wings began to fold back as Sam reached up, pulling down a ladder folded into a panel just beneath the cockpit. The pilot inside was already taking off their helmet as he ascended, tugging on the canopy release lever. It hissed open, locking back into place.

"Captain." He saluted, Tikka returning the gesture as she unbuckled her harness. The tiger ran a gloved hand through the fur between her ears and let out a sigh, climbing out once he had made way for her.

"Well that definitely got a little sporty, nobody knew they were going to have flak cannons on target." She muttered, unbuckling the front of her survival vest. Her long feline tail lashed back and forth, eyes darting up to the aircraft wing that was pock-marked with dozens of small holes. "Okay, maybe she'll need a bit more than paint."

Following her gaze, Sam winced. The bottom of the wing had been nearly shredded by whatever had hit her. Coolant and oil dripped onto the deck below as she patted the side of the fuselage affectionately. "But still, she got me home in one piece. Can't ask for more than that!"

"Yeah, but I have a feeling the mechanics are going to be coming for your head." Sam secured the cockpit and hopped down, starting to pace around the aircraft. One of the many duties of his job was to inspect the plane after each flight, noting any more damage or problems and reporting them to the mechanics. Mercifully it seemed that most of the damage from the anti-aircraft fire was focused on the wing, and the engines seemed to be in good shape.

To his surprise, Tikka was still standing near the nose of the plane as he finished the survey. She cocked her head, looking him up and down for a moment. "I don't think I've seen you before." She said, tucking her helmet under one arm and not seeming to notice the perpetual deluge of rain pouring down on them. "You new on the flight deck?"

"Not exactly," Sam clipped the light-bars back onto his belt. "I've been in for a couple years now, but up until last month I was an ordnance loader. I just started flight ops recently."

"Ahh, makes sense. Well keep it up, having a good referee makes everything a lot easier. I'm Tikka, by the way." She stuck out a hand, a smirk playing on the edges of her muzzle. "But you probably knew that already, huh?"

He was suddenly glad that it was too cold for him to blush. "Referee" was the nickname for aircraft handlers, and having a pilot such as Tikka complement him on a job well done was an unusual occurrence. "Well you've definitely made an impression, that's for sure. It's not every day we get a pilot who's got four confirmed shoot-downs in the past year. I'm Sam, Sam Warren."

"Bah, there's better pilots out there than me. But they weren't flying over a contested air space. Right place, right time, kid." She winked, and Sam could only hope she wasn't able to notice as his heart nearly skipped a beat at the gesture. For all the bluster and rivalry, there was no denying that pilots were held in a certain regard by anyone who was stuck on the ground instead of sitting in the cockpit. He imagined this was what it felt like to meet a famous movie star or musician, though he tried not to let that show.

"Take care of her for me, will you? She's a good bird." Tikka ran her hand over the nose of the plane, hefting her flight bag over one shoulder.

"I'll make sure of it." He nodded.

"Good. I'll be seeing you around, kid." Tikka offered him a casual salute, a subtle grin playing at her muzzle as she turned to leave. Sam watched, trying not to stare. Flight suits weren't known for being fashionable, but the tiger pulled it off somehow.

A sudden peal of thunder broke him from the reverie, motioning for the maintenance crews to take over as he walked back to the staging area. He caught himself looking over his shoulder at Tikka's plane. There was something about her passing remark that kept the gears turning in his head, how she'd said it. Not just a simple acknowledgment, but like she fully intended on running into him again. And he couldn't help but admit to himself that it sounded nice.

Another whistle split the air. Rook tapped his head and held up three fingers. Sighing, Sam adjusted his helmet and shivered as the wind returned in force.

Back to work.

Pain rippled through Sam's knee as the medical officer guided his leg back and forth, gritting his teeth and wincing. "Does that hurt?" The husky asked, not seeming to notice or care about his grunts and muffled cursing.

Sam just scowled. "Yeah, you could say that."

Nodding, the husky finally set his leg down on the paper-lined bed and stood, scribbling notes on a clipboard. "How'd you do it, again?"

"Slipped on some ice on deck," Sam sat up and winced, experimentally flexing his leg a few times. It was most definitely swollen, though not likely broken, so he tried to count his blessings. "Somebody left out a mounting bracket there and my knee managed to find it."

"Hmmm, I see." The medical officer wrote for a few more moments before tearing off the bottom part of the sheet and handing it to him. "There's your prescription. Three days of light duty, water, mild painkillers, and this." Reaching into a nearby cabinet, he produced a flexible knee brace and handed it to Sam.

He held it up with a grimace. "Do I really have to wear this thing?"

"If you want that knee to heal properly, then yes. I don't think you tore anything, but excess movement can make it worse. So wear that for a few days and see how it feels. If it's still a problem after that come and see me again."

Five minutes later, Sam walked out of the sick bay with a bottle of Tylenol and a distinct limp. The medical officer had already contacted his commander to pass along the orders for light duty, but he wasn't looking forward to three days of sitting behind a desk. He belonged up on the flight deck. Dangerous and demanding as it was, there was something incredibly rewarding about the job. And to get side-lined when there were active flights felt like he was missing out on the one thing he was good at.

Lost in his thoughts, Sam very nearly collided with Commander Buckley as he turned down the next hallway. He sputtered for a moment before saluting sharply, standing at rigid attention. "Apologies, sir."

Buckley, a badger who's once dark brown fur had faded to a stately gray, returned the salute. "No harm done, Warren. So, the doc tells me you're on light duty for the next few days?" He took a sip from the coffee thermos that seemed perpetually attached to his hand.

"Aye, sir. He thinks I just sprained something, it's really no big deal. I'd be more than happy to get back up on the deck and..."

Holding up the hand not occupied with his mug, Buckley stopped him. "If doc says to take it easy, then you're under orders to take it easy. I want my sailors healthy."

Sam's tail drooped. "Aye, sir. Where would you like me to report to?"

"Take the afternoon off. We're making our way back to port now anyway, so flights are cut back for the week. Tomorrow you're going to become my virtual assistant, at least until you're back on full duty. Just stick close to your computer and I'll send you a few things to get done. Mostly busy-work, I'm sad to say, but at least you're not going to be up there getting battered by the weather, eh?"

Trying not to let his disappointment show, Sam saluted again. "Aye, sir. I can do that."

"Good man! And remember, it's just a few days. Besides, you could use some easy time. I saw how hard you were pushing during training. You can only sprint for so long, Petty Officer. Take a breath now and again." He clapped Sam on the shoulder, leaving the perplexed otter. Break-neck pace was the norm aboard ship. Having his commanding officer practically order him to take a break was strange, to say the least. But on the other hand, Buckley was known for taking care of his men and women. He was well on his way to making Captain, and Sam was starting to understand why.

Nevertheless, he felt lost as he limped through the cramped passageways of gray steel. Having time to himself was a strange concept; save for a few rare exceptions, his days were often busy from the moment he woke to when he went to bed. Training, deck operations, brief meal periods, more training, more operations. The ship took on a strange atmosphere as he meandered, a hive of activity around his little bubble of freedom.

A rumbling in his stomach reminded Sam that he hadn't eaten yet. It had been a hectic morning before his little mishap, and there hadn't been time for breakfast. "Mess hall it is then, I guess." He mumbled, staggering down the hallway.

The cafeteria was oddly quiet between meal times, only a few sailors gathered around tables chatting and sipping coffee, the lifeblood of the ship. Normally the entire hall would be positively stuffed with men and women trying to cram in as many calories before going back to work. It felt like a ghost town as he plucked his mug off a rack, filling it with dark, bitter coffee. Every member of the crew had their own cups, and it was a serious transgression to take another sailor's mug. Finding an empty seat near one of the display screens, showing yet another outdated made-for-TV movie, he took a sip of the coffee and tried to come up with a constructive way to spend his afternoon.

That train of thought quickly hit a roadblock as something caught his eye. Someone pacing back and forth at the other end of the mess hall, tail lashing behind them. It took him only a moment to recognize the pattern of the fur and the distinctive tan flight suit. He raised his eyebrows. What was Tikka doing in the enlisted cafeteria? Officers had their own mess hall, and they rarely made the trek down to the lower decks for what was considered sub-par food. But there she was, ears perked up and coffee cup clutched in her hand, the other stuffed in the pocket of her uniform as she strode up and down the center aisle. He tried not to stare, but Tikka wasn't making it easy. She strode up and down the cafeteria, pausing only occasionally to take a short swig of coffee before continuing on. Something was on her mind, that much he could tell for certain.

His stomach tightened as she turned, the tiger's gaze locking onto his intently. Instinctively he looked away, pretending to be hyper-focused on the cheesy 90's action flick playing on the display screen. Maybe she didn't notice? He could only hope. The last thing he needed was an officer accusing him of ogling her. And something told him that Tikka could probably toss him halfway across the mess hall without much effort on her part.

Those dreams soon evaporated with the sound of approaching footsteps, boots thumping on the linoleum behind him. He tried to appear surprised as she pulled out the chair across from him and took a seat, leaning over the table. Before he could muster an apology for whatever it was he'd done wrong, she cut him off. "You're Sam, right? Flight ops?"

Blinking, wondering why she hadn't torn his head off, Sam nodded. "Umm...yes, ma'am, Sam Warren."

She chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Cut the formality, Sam. I was never one for the whole rank-and-file stuff. Just gets in the way."

"I mean..." Sam cleared his throat. "You are an officer, ma'am."

"If you call me ma'am one more time I'm going to throw you into an engine intake." Tikka's eyes narrowed just slightly, enough for him to finally get the hint. "Anyway, what are you doing down here? I thought you were up on the deck all day?"

"I wish I was." He sighed. "Screwed up my knee and both the doctor and Commander have me on light duty for the next few days."

"Ah, seems we're in a similar position then." Her ears flicked back, bringing the mug to her mouth again.

Sam cocked his head. "What, you got hurt too? Did that anti-air fire clip you?"

"Nah, nothing like that." Tikka scoffed. "I'm sidelined for now. Command cut back flights since we're heading home, and with my bird in the shop, they took me off rotation for the next week, if not more. So now I'm just trying to keep myself sane until I can get back in the air."

"Guess we're both stuck then, huh?" Sam chuckled softly, swirling the last of his coffee in the bottom of the mug before gulping it down.

"It's killing me." Tikka rubbed her temples, grimacing. "We've been on a break-neck pace ever since we got out here and now I'm just expected to sit around and do nothing? It's miserable."

"I know the feeling." Sam nodded. "Its feels wrong not being up on deck, like I'm shirking my duties or something."

"At least you've got an excuse." Her ears suddenly perked. "Hey, I was going to run to the hangar and see if they've got my bird fixed up yet, wanna come with?"

Blinking, Sam took a moment to gather himself. "Wait, really?"

She was already standing up, jerking her head to motion that he should follow. "Why not? It's not like we've got much else to do. If you can keep up, that is." She winked, nodding to the brace wrapped around his knee.

Hoping she couldn't see the slight tinge of pink that had crept into his ears, Sam got up and flexed his leg a few times. "Well I can certainly try, lead the way."

Making their way through the maze of passageways, Sam hobbled along behind the tiger. Thankfully the corridors weren't terribly cramped, being in the middle of evening shift for most of the crew. During shift change they became notoriously clogged, turning what would normally be a five minute walk into a twenty minute journey. The hangar itself was plenty busy, however, as they stepped into the massive alcove where aircraft were stored and maintained. Mechanic and repair crews buzzed to and fro, carrying tool bags and shouting to other crew members. More than once he was nearly flattened by a passing forklift, the drivers honking their horns and shouting some form of expletive in his direction.

Scents of oil and fuel filled the air as they passed row after row of parked aircraft in varying stages of disassembly and repair. Clearly Tikka had a better sense of where she was going, marching with a purpose towards the end of the hangar. Sam did his best to follow, but by the time they arrived at her plane he was panting and rubbing his knee.

"Okay, there might have been a bit more damage than I originally thought." Tikka winced as she stood beneath the exposed left wing, only the bone-like framework and internal components showing. The wing panels had been stripped off, revealing the maze of pipes and wires inside. Sam reached up, running his fingers across a section of conduit that had been shredded by whatever had struck the plane.

"Jesus. The power line for your radar control is a mess, and I'm surprised you were even able to deploy your landing gear. See this?" He gestured to a section of black tubing that had been nearly severed. "That's one of your main hydraulic lines. Looks like it even took out a chunk of your engine management core too."

Tikka was silent for a moment, looking over the damage before raising an eyebrow. "Looks like someone did their homework."

Shrugging, Sam hoped she couldn't see the slight blush rising in his cheeks. "I figured it would be better to know a bit about these birds if I'm going to be the one ordering them around all day."

Leaning against one of the landing struts, Tikka crossed her arms. "Ever thought about going for a pilot slot? Seems like you know the ships pretty well."

"I tried, once." Sam plucked a small flashlight off his belt, peaking into one of the exposed engine panels. "But I got disqualified, medical reasons. I had a minor seizure disorder growing up. It pretty much went away on its own once I got older, but that was enough for the review board to turn me down. But hey, can't win 'em all, right?" He smiled, patting the side of the aircraft affectionately. "Besides, I like working the deck. It's like playing a giant game of Tetris, just...more intense."

"Hmm...y'know, we might be able to help each other out." Tikka rubbed her chin.

"How's that?"

"Well, the flight operations commander gave me some homework while I'm grounded. He wants to come up with some more efficient landing patterns, so we get aircraft off the deck faster. Considering I'm just a stick-jockey, I figure you might be able to give me a hand." She reached into her pocket for a scrap of paper, jotting something down with one of the pens tucked into the sleeve of her flight suit. "Here's my room number, come by at about eight tonight and we can figure something out."

She was already walking away as he sputtered and blinked, looking down at the paper in confusion. He couldn't remember the last time a pilot even remembered his name, let alone inviting him over to work together. While they may have been part of the same crew, there was always an invisible divide between the sailors and pilots, an unspoken agreement that they were completely different cogs of the same machine, rarely meshing and only when necessary. Tikka was the first one he'd met who had spoken more than a few words to him. It was strange, and not something he was entirely sure of, but she hadn't left him much choice.

Sam had only been near the pilots' quarters once before, when he'd first joined the ship and been given the grand tour. As such he got turned around more than a few times trying to find it in the maze of passageways. After getting turned around for the third time he stopped a junior officer to ask for directions, who pointed the way with a curious glance. Aside from pilots, most of the crew in this region of the ship consisted of radar or power technicians, tucked away in their dark, windowless corners of the carrier. His flight operations patch stuck out like a sore thumb down below decks, and more than a few crew members seemed perplexed to see him there.

Limping through the halls, he finally found the room that Tikka had scribbled onto the note earlier. H-403. Triple-checking to make sure he wasn't going to disturb the wrong person, he finally worked up the courage to knock on the heavy steel door.

A pair of piercing green eyes met his as it swung open, Tikka's tail swishing back and forth behind her. "Ah, there you are! Come on in, I just put on some coffee."

He didn't even have time to say anything before she was tugging him inside, shutting the door with a thud. Indeed, her room was already starting to fill with the scent of freshly brewed coffee as the machine burbled away in the corner. Not that it would take long; the room wasn't much larger than a broom closet, just big enough for the twin-sized bed, wall dresser, and fold-out table in one corner. But it was still better than the shared berthing areas he shared with four other crew, crammed into bunk-beds from floor to ceiling with nothing but a curtain for privacy. Tikka's room felt like a presidential suite in comparison.

"Woah, you get private quarters?" He accepted the mug of coffee that Tikka offered, blowing on the surface as she sat on the edge of the bed. It was strange seeing her out of a flight suit, instead wearing just a T-shirt and standard uniform pants. And it certainly didn't help that her shirt appeared to be just a size too small, showing off the subtle curves of her upper body. Sam's cheeks grew a shade warmer as he forced himself to stare intently at the ceiling pipes instead.

"One of the perks of being a fly-boy. Or fly-girl, in my case." She chuckled, spreading her arms wide. Or as wide as they could go in the cramped confines of the room. "Apparently the Van Reynolds is the first ship to have solo bunking for pilots and some of the officers. Back when I was in flight training we'd have two or three people to a room, so this is definitely an upgrade."

"Consider me jealous." He nodded appreciatively. "All the enlisted crew are packed in like sardines. Six people to a pod, so it gets a bit crowded at times."

"Not much room to yourself down there, I imagine?"

"That would be an understatement." Sam leaned against the wall, taking a sip of coffee and trying not to wince as it nearly burned his tongue.

"Ugh, I couldn't handle that." Shaking her head, Tikka pulled her legs up onto the mattress. "I need some space to myself, even if it's something this small." She smirked, a mischievous glint flickering in her eyes. "So I gotta know if the stories are true. Do guys really jerk off in those bunks with everyone else around them?"

Sam's throat nearly closed as he choked on his next drink of coffee, hacking and coughing to clear his lungs. Pounding his chest with a fist as tears welled in the corners of his eyes, he sucked in a few breaths as the temperature in the room suddenly seemed to ratchet up another twenty degrees. "W-what?"

"Oh come on, I've heard people talking about it. Someone needs to take care of business, so they just rub one out while everyone else plays dumb." Laughing, she handed him a tissue to wipe his eyes and nose.

"Well, uh, I mean..." Giving himself a few more moments to recover and gather his thoughts, Sam rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. "I suppose some people do, if they really have to, or maybe use the bathroom or something..."

Tikka's eyes widened, and she couldn't hold back another giggle. "Oh my god, you totally have, haven't you!"

Sam knew there was no hiding the deep red flush that crept into his ears and cheeks. He grimaced, staring down at the floor. "I guess, once or twice maybe. We're usually too busy to y'know...do that all the time."

"Hey, nothing wrong with a bit of self-love now and again!" Her hand clapped him on the arm as she smirked. "Hell, that's probably what excited me most about the private rooms here. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get off when there's some guy snoring away in the bunk next to you?" She held up her hands, shaking her head. "Sorry, I forget that most people aren't as open about this sort of thing as I am. Apparently too many rough landings broke my brain-to-mouth filter."

Though his cheeks were still burning, tail wrapped around his leg, Sam felt his heartbeat settling into a more manageable tempo. "No, it's all good! You just kinda caught me off-guard, honestly."

"So you don't mind me being a bit blunt, then?" She asked, slithering off the bed and crossing her arms in front of her chest.

And there it was again, the jackhammer pounding in his chest. But Sam just shrugged, shaking his head. "Not at all."

"You got a girlfriend back home, kid?" The corners of her muzzle twitched up into a grin.

"Um, no. I didn't want to get involved with anyone right before shipping out, you know how it is."

Nodding, Tikka rubbed her chin. Sam could practically hear the gears spinning in her mind, and it only made his heart jump further into his throat. "Then I've got a proposition for you, kid. And I'm not one for subtlety, so I'll just lay it all out. We're both stuck on reserve for the time being, and the ship is heading back to port. And even when we get back we'll be doing shore duty for a while. So how about we make our lives a bit better in the meantime?"

Sam's throat dried up faster than a puddle in the Sahara desert. He swallowed a few times, desperately clutching onto what little remained of his composure. "So, what are you proposing?"

"To be frank, a friendly companion and a good fuck." She flicked her ears, the playful shimmer in her eyes growing more intense. "We don't have to commit to anything. If the chemistry isn't right or things don't work out, we can just cut our losses and go our separate ways with no hard feelings. But I have a feeling we could both use a way to relieve some stress."

Muzzle hanging partly open, Sam could only stare for a few moments before his brain came back online, albeit less functional than a few minutes prior. Perhaps it had something to do with a good chunk of his bloodflow being pulled somewhere other than his head, if the tightness in his pants was any indication. He couldn't deny that the temptation was nearly overwhelming. But that didn't completely shut down his reservations.

"You do realize that we could get court-martialed for something like this?" He whispered, glancing back at the door to make sure it was closed and latched.

"Then we won't get caught." She shrugged casually, like it was the simplest thing in the world. "Nobody will hear us through these walls. They're all soundproofed against the deck noise above. And it's not like we'll be sneaking off together every waking hour of the day. Plus, it'll be easier once we get back to shore."

For a few moments all Sam could do was open and close his mouth like a fish out of water, finally shaking his head to clear it and gain a few precious seconds of coherent thought. "Okay, but...why me? Why not...well..."

"One of the other pilots, or an officer?" Tikka scoffed, shaking her head. "Most of the other fly-boys are meatheads. Sure, they're good, but the level of bullshit alpha-male energy is off the charts, and that's never been my thing. And a good chunk of the officers have a stick perpetually buried up their asses. You're cute, and smart, and don't seem like the type to go squealing to command."

"I guess that makes sense, but...wait, you really think I'm cute?" Sam tilted his head to the side, ears pinning back abashedly. Tikka just laughed, stepping forward and resting her hands on his shoulders. He drew in a short breath, heart fluttering as their eyes met.

"Hell yes I do. I wouldn't be asking otherwise." Her fingertips kneaded his upper arms, and he bit his lip at the feeling of her claws just barely pressing against his fur through the fabric of his uniform. "So what do you say, Sam?"

The room felt even smaller than before as she gazed into his eyes, her subtle feline scent intertwining with a mix of shampoo and coffee. A shiver ran up his spine, and the tightness in his pants grew even more demanding. Slowly, ignoring the quiet scream from what remained of his common sense, Sam let his hands settle on Tikka's hips. Even through her shirt he could feel the tautness of her muscles, allowing himself a moment to just appreciate the toned, lithe tiger pressing up against him. "Well...I guess we could see where things go..."

"Good."

That was the only warning she gave before Sam found himself being pushed against the closet with a firm yet playful shove. And then her lips were pressed to his with a heated passion that he'd never felt before, a rush of warmth spreading through him from head to toe. He blinked, frozen in place as Tikka kissed him with an almost desperate, yearning passion. She wasn't holding back. She wanted him, and clearly had no intention of being coy about it. Huffing softly and trying to gather his senses, Sam started returning the favor, leaning into the kiss and slowly closing his eyes. Tikka's lips felt warm and soft against his own, her scent filling his nose and a tremor of excitement running down his spine.

That shiver only intensified as her tongue began to tease against his lips, and before he even realized what was happening it had slipped into his muzzle. Panting softly into the kiss he let his hands rest on her waist as the kiss deepened, tongues dancing together in a flurry of passion that grew with each passing second. Whatever shred of trepidation he had felt about the situation disappeared, fading away and leaving behind only the heat of passion that was quickly building between them. As the tiger pressed her hips against his, only accentuating the arousal starting to grow between his legs, Sam reached back to cup her rear in both hands.

He was so lost in the kiss that he didn't notice her shifting position slightly until he suddenly found her gripping his wrists, pinning them up against the wall with a surprising strength. Worried at first that he might have gone a bit too far, he pulled back from the kiss with a soft gasp to apologize, only to find her grinning. The whites of her teeth flashed, a subtle purr rising in her throat. "Ah ah, not yet." She huffed, rolling her hips and forcing a gasp from Sam's muzzle at the sudden friction. "I'm the one in charge, here."

Sam's knees nearly buckled. He just nodded, managing a lopsided grin. "Y-yes ma'am, heh."

"Good boy. Now, get out of that uniform."

She stepped back to give him room, and Sam didn't waste any time. Fumbling with the buttons and zippers, he set to stripping out of his clothes as though they were on fire. Tossing his boots into a corner, Sam's mouth dropped open as he looked back up to see Tikka stepping out of her flight suit, kicking it off to the side. For a moment his brain nearly shut down, incapable of anything but admiring the tiger in front of him. Tikka appeared much like the aircraft she piloted. Sleek, toned, beautiful, perhaps even a bit intimidating. Focused more on function than form, she didn't fit the usual archetype of typical 'female beauty'. But that didn't make her any less attractive in Sam's eyes. If anything it only made his heart flutter with a growing intensity as he took in the sight of her standing before him, wearing just her black panties and sports bra. She smirked, resting a hand on her hip.

"What's the matter, never had a girl strip for you before?"

Shaking his head to get back some shred of coherent thought, he chuckled. "Not exactly, but it's the first time it looked like they could break me in half."

Licking her lips, Tikka stepped forward and ran the tips of her claws through the short fur on his chest, all the way down his abdomen until they rested just above the waistband of his underwear. "Don't worry kid, I wouldn't do that to you. Not unless you're into that sort of thing." Her wink was enough to cause his breath to hitch yet again. Yet again any answer he may have had was cut off as she pulled him in for another kiss, even deeper than the first. Tongues wrestled playfully and hands began to wander, Sam focusing his attention on Tikka's hips and waist, allowing himself a little huff of satisfaction as she trembled under his fingers as they ran over a particularly sensitive spot on her lower back. Tikka wasn't so subtle, teasing the fur on his lower stomach before slipping her hand lower to cup the outline of his arousal through his underwear. Sam gasped into the kiss, bucking his hips as she ran a thumb over the tip of his manhood, massaging it gently through the fabric.

His head was spinning as she pulled back with a playful growl, pushing him down onto the mattress with a shove. Though they were fairly similar in size, Tikka clearly had an advantage in the strength department. Before he could even sit up she was pouncing on him, straddling Sam's waist and pinning both of his arms to the bed. He was left at her mercy as Tikka began to roll her hips, forcing a gasp from his muzzle as she pressed against his achingly hard shaft. "Oooh, someone's excited." She purred, reaching back to start undoing her bra. The garment was tossed away to join the rest of their clothes on the floor, and Sam could only gawk as she leaned back with a grin. "Like what you see?"

"You have no idea." He nodded, heart pounding. Two little nubs of pink protruded from beneath the stripes of orange and white fur criss-crossing her chest, nipples already pert in the comparatively cool air of the room.

"Glad to hear it. Now then, how about we get these off?" Hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, Tikka shimmied out of the underwear with a motion like liquid silk, leaving her completely bare. She grinned as Sam's shaft throbbed in response, grinding against it slowly. "Mmmh, definitely excited. Don't worry hun, I'll take care of that soon enough. But first, you're going to take care of me."

A predatory, hungry glint flashed in her eyes as Tikka crawled forward, tail lashing back and forth behind her rhythmically. Even in his flustered state Sam could tell what she had in mind, and he leaned back, meeting her gaze.

Her legs pinned his arms against the mattress as she settled into position, crouched right above his muzzle and resting a hand between his ears. The sight of her slit drew his attention, the touch of pink between her thighs already slick with arousal. Her natural scent made his head swim wonderfully and he licked his lips, but she stayed just outside of his reach, unable to reach up and touch her. Tikka just grinned, stroking one of his ears between her fingers. "You want it, don't you?" She whispered, cupping one of her modest breasts in the other hand.

"Yes." He huffed, nodding eagerly and looking up at her, almost pleading.

Chuckling, she ruffled his headfur playfully. "Good boy."

The warmth between her thighs grew even more apparent as Tikka lowered herself down a few more inches, until the soft flesh of her petals rested against Sam's muzzle. He let out a soft moan, taking a moment just to savor the experience. But he didn't wait long. His tongue dragged against her folds slowly, wanting to savor the taste of her arousal and the wonderful shiver that ran through Tikka's body in response. She bit her lip and rolled her hips, gripping his head a little more tightly. "Enough teasing, lover boy. Get to work."

With his muzzle being a touch preoccupied he couldn't say anything, but Sam wasn't one to leave a lady waiting. Licking and swirling his tongue eagerly, he began exploring all the little spots that made Tikka gasp and buck her hips, wanting to give her an experience to remember. He was rewarded with a hitched moan as his tongue caressed the hood of her clit, giving the pink nub a teasing flick before starting to work his tongue back and forth, swirling it in circles, occasionally slipping it between her folds slightly to caress more of her depths. Already the fur around his muzzle was growing wet and slick with her excitement, but Sam couldn't have cared less. If anything it just urged him on, a sign of a job done well.

Tikka's thighs tightened around his head every time he lingered around a particularly sensitive spot, her breathing growing deeper with each passing moment. The tiger screwed her eyes shut and let out a muffled gasp, tweaking a nipple between her fingers and trembling. "Oooh f-fuck, right there, that's it..." She gritted her teeth and hissed with pleasure.

With his arms pinned against the mattress, Tikka's weight keeping him in place, he focused all of his attention on pleasing the tigress. Not that he needed much encouragement; her moans and gasps of ecstasy only egged him on, working his tongue back and forth across her dripping wet sex. Occasionally he wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked gently, eliciting a soft cry of pleasure from Tikka as she pressed down against his face eagerly. Even through the haze of arousal he could tell she was getting close, her hand gripping his head tightly and pushing him deeper between his thighs, legs starting to shake.

"F-fuck, fuck!" She cried out, not bothering to quiet herself this time. Bracing her free hand against the bulkhead she rocked her hips feverishly back and forth. Body taut as a bowstring. With a final choked cry Tikka tossed her head back, grinding Sam's muzzle against her slit as her fluids gushed over his face. With his tongue half-buried inside Tikka's core, Sam could feel her walls clenching and squeezing down rhythmically as she rode out her climax. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through the tiger, her legs twitching around his head. Sam let out a moan of his own, trying to draw out the moment for as long as possible. He never wanted it to end, watching her bucking and writhing above him.

It wasn't until she gently pushed his head back did Sam stop, blinking himself back to the present and licking his lips. She slid back, straddling his chest and panting while fanning herself with a hand. "H-holy shit, where did you learn to do that?"

He sat up as much as possible, allowing himself a satisfactory grin. "I take it I did alright?"

"More than alright. Jesus, I haven't cum like that in months." She laughed, looking at the soaked fur around his mouth. "Heh, sorry. Should've warned you that I'm a bit of a squirter."

"You're not going to hear me complaining." Sam licked his lips to drive the point home, winking. "Honestly, it's really hot."

Apparently not opposed to tasting herself, Tikka grabbed him by the back of the neck to pull him into a kiss, their tongues meeting in a frenzied dance. Only when they were out of breath did she pull back, flashing her teeth in a mischievous grin. "About time I returned the favor, then."

His underwear was yanked off before Sam could react, leaving his shaft lying against his stomach and throbbing. Shimmying down the bed until she was kneeling between his legs, Tikka wrapped her hand around the base of it and tilted it up, nuzzling the precum-soaked tip with a wink. Sam drew in a sharp breath, clutching at the sheets when her tongue dragged along the underside slowly. He'd been so focused on pleasing Tikka that he hadn't noticed his own arousal before, but she was now making him painfully aware of how pent up he'd been.

"Mmm, you're bigger than I would've expected." She hummed, planting a series of kisses across the head of his shaft while cupping his sac gently in one hand.

"I'm n-nothing special, really." His ears and cheeks flushed, squirming as she teased him mercilessly.

"Maybe, but you're definitely not small. I don't even know if I can fit the whole thing in my muzzle." She winked, squeezing the base of his cock. "Only one way to find out, huh?"

The world melted away as her lips wrapped around the first inch of his length, surrounding it in a slick warmth that left him gasping and arching his back. Any rational thought was quickly whisked away as Tikka began to bob her head up and down slowly, taking a little more of his length each time, her tongue caressing him passionately. He resisted the urge to buck his hips and simply let her work, though that didn't stop Sam from twitching and writhing in ecstasy each time she circled the head of his manhood with her slightly rough yet deliciously soft feline tongue.

He watched through eyes half-lidded in pleasure as she slid up and down, almost all the way to the base. Lips forming a perfect seal around his shaft, ears folded back slightly as she focused on her work, hand cupping and massaging his balls. Their eyes met for a moment and she winked, making a point to drag her tongue along his shaft from base to tip. Already he could feel the pleasure starting to well up inside him, a desperate yearning for release, shaft pumping small streams of precum onto her tongue.

"T-Tikka, I'm...I'm gonna..." It took a herculean effort to summon the words between gasps, gritting his teeth and trying to fight off the inevitable.

His shaft slid out of her mouth and slapped wetly against his stomach as she pulled off, licking her lips with a smirk. "Not yet, sweetheart. I've got other plans for you. Don't go anywhere." He took the brief reprieve to catch his breath, though his shaft still pulsed and throbbed as she climbed off the bed, aching for more. Still, he was rewarded with a lovely view of her backside as Tikka opened a drawer, fishing around inside it.

She held up a little plastic packet between two fingers, climbing up next to him and starting to open it. "Hope you don't mind, I made a solemn promise to my bank account to never have kids."

Unable to resist a chuckle, he reached out to take the condom. "Not a problem at all, I totally get that."

But instead of offering it, Tikka instead took her previous position and slipped the tip of the condom between her lips. Sam could only watch in surprise as she lowered her muzzle onto his shaft again, slowly rolling the latex ring down his length inch by inch, sending another jolt of pleasure through his core. Only when it was fully sheathed did she pull off, sitting back to admire her work. "There we go!"

"Well, that's definitely a neat trick." He grinned, pulse starting to quicken as Tikka straddled his waist.

"I figured you might like that." Grasping the base of his cock, Tikka lifted it up until the tip was nestled between her folds, grinding back and forth and grinning as Sam squirmed, trying to push up into her to no avail. Only when he began to moan did she finally relent, pressing a hand against his chest while sinking down in one smooth, effortless motion.

Tight, silky warmth surrounded Sam's manhood as she slid him into her bit by bit. His whole body stiffened at the sensation, and he bit his lip to stifle a trembling moan that threatened to burst out. Even through the condom he could feel just how snugly she gripped him, the texture of her inner walls rippling around his length as Tikka slid down onto him. She wiggled her hips back and forth, letting out a happy sigh of her own. It felt like an eternity had passed before their hips finally met, every inch of Sam's shaft buried inside Tikka.

Reaching up, Sam rested his trembling hands on her hips to give them a firm squeeze. "F-fuck!"

"Mmh, you like that?" She whispered, leaning down and cooing in his ear before giving it a playful nip. "I bet you do. But just remember..." Reaching down, Tikka grabbed Sam's wrists and pushed them down against the mattress. "I'm calling the shots here, sailor."

His response melted away to nothing more than an incoherent moan as she raised her hips, the tiger's core squeezing down around every inch until only the tip still remained inside her. Sam couldn't resist the urge to try and thrust, though that accomplished little. Thankfully Tikka seemed to take mercy, sinking back down onto him with a soft moan. She began to set a firm but steady rhythm, pumping her hips up and down atop him. While they were fairly similar in stature Sam might as well have had the strength of a newborn kitten as Tikka took the lead, rolling her hips expertly. Occasionally she paused with him fully inside her, grinding her clit against his pelvis before starting to pump up and down again.

Sam had no doubt that without the condom he would have easily climaxed by that point, though Tikka certainly wasn't making it easy to hold back. The sight of the tigress riding him, stomach and chest flexing with every movement, along with the silky warmth around his cock, was quickly starting to chip away at his self-control. It took all of his concentration not to cum right then and there.

And Tikka certainly wasn't helping in that regard. She picked up the pace, their hips clapping together steadily as she slid up and down along his length. "Mmmph, fuck yes!" She grunted, clutching his wrists tighter. "N-nice and big!"

"God, you're so...t-tight!" Sam panted, bucking his hips in time to meet her thrusts. Not relenting on the fervent tempo, she leaned down and kissed him hard. A frenzied, passionate embrace that left him panting and gasping for air.

"You want to cum?" She growled into his ear, squeezing down around his cock tightly. "You want to fill me up, don't you?"

"Y-yes!" He cried out, the fact that he was wearing protection not seeming to make any difference in how her words sent a jolt of desire through his body.

"Only when I tell you, darling. You're going to cum for me, okay? In five, four, three, two...one."

Sam tried to hold off as long as possible, fighting against the relentless urge to thrust up into the beautiful tiger atop him. But his resolve shattered as Tikka finished counting, clenching down her muscles around his length tightly, squeezing around every inch and grinding down against him. His entire world shrunk down to a burst of lights behind his eyes, spasms of pure bliss coursing through him as he finally tipped over the edge with a loud moan, not bothering to muffle the sound. Spurt after spurt of his seed filled the tip of the condom, her inner walls rippling around him to coax out every drop he had to give.

Losing himself entirely to the warm bliss flooding through him, Sam shuddered and thrust his hips up weakly as Tikka chuckled, reaching back to cup his balls gently. "Oooh, just like that. Give me all of it, sweetheart." And Sam was more than happy to oblige, panting for breath and tossing his head back as he surrendered to the moment. All that mattered was the throbbing of his shaft, the slick warmth squeezing down around it, the sensation of Tikka straddling his waist and cooing in his ear.

An eternity seemed to pass, yet nearly long enough before the waves of climax began to give way to the soft warmth of afterglow. He panted for breath and blinked slowly. Tikka still had her hips pressed firmly against his, grinning down at the otter with a satisfied smirk. "Seems like you enjoyed yourself." She leaned down, releasing his wrists.

Her hands cupped his face as she leaned down to kiss him, and Sam wrapped his arms around her waist as his heart settled into a more sustainable rhythm. For a few moments he just sunk into her embrace. When she pulled back he was grinning almost from ear to ear, running his hands up and down her back.

"You have no idea." He panted, nuzzling between her breasts.

"Oh, I think I might have. I don't think I've ever felt a guy cum that hard before." She nibbled at his ear playfully and helped him into a sitting position, hooking her legs around his waist. For a time they simply sat together, enjoying the shared warmth and tingles of pleasure. Only when Sam had gone partly flaccid did she sit up, his cock sliding out of her wetly. He blushed as she unrolled the condom and held it up. "Oooh, definitely pent up. When I'm back on birth control I'm going to give you a night to remember."

Even in its half-erect state, Sam's arousal still throbbed at the idea. "So I'm assuming that implies there's going to be a next time?"

Tying off the latex sheath and tossing it into the garbage, Tikka slid back up onto the mattress and pulled him into a close embrace, wrapping her arms around him and nestling his muzzle into her shoulder. "Oh, most definitely. A guy who doesn't mind taking orders and is eager to please? You're not getting away with just one round, hot stuff." He couldn't hold back a yip of surprise as her hands made their way down to his rear, giving it a firm squeeze.

"Mmm, then I'm looking forward to it." He returned the favor, rewarded with a little tremor running through the tiger holding him. Already he could feel his eyelids growing heavier, the urge to sleep growing stronger each second. He stifled a yawn, only for Tikka to pull up the blankets and nuzzle the top of his head.

"I can go back to my own room, if you want." Sam murmured, though made no effort to move.

Tikka just squeezed him tighter in response, her tail resting over his waist. "Not a chance, sailor. I couldn't smuggle my body pillow on board before we deployed, so you'll be taking on that responsibility from here out."

Smiling, he just snuggled in closer and breathed in Tikka's feline scent, feeling himself drifting off in her embrace as the ship rocked gently back and forth below them. "Aye aye, ma'am."