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As much as Ira would have been happy to curl up under a blanket by his lonesome, he saw a greater source of warmth sitting on the couch when he arrived.

"That was a quick errand," Trish greeted him. "Got all the fabrics you needed from the store already?"

It was nothing unusual around the pack house for people to relax in different states of undress, but there was no denying how provocative it would have been to see Trish sprawled into the corner of the couch with only panties below the waist and a loose, comfortable t-shirt above.

"Wasn't much of an order, thankfully," Ira replied. "I was just about to complain that it was too cold outside, but...I'm guessing you disagree?"

Kicking the door closed behind him and setting his things on the entry table, Ira tried to pretend that he wasn't so drawn in by the comforting shade of pink that teased over Trish's hip and down to the inside of her thigh.

Pressed against her pubic mound with such a tight grip that Ira could see the outline of his own mother's sex through the sheer cotton, it was impossible to ignore, but then...Trish was making no effort to hide the enticing view from Ira's curious gaze.

"You get that from your father, I'm afraid," Trish reminded him. "But I'm plenty comfortable like this...you can always come in and stay a while if you need to warm up, you know."

Seeing the title of the book in his mother's grip, Ira realized why he'd gleaned the delicate scent of arousal in the air; subtle as it was, there was just the slightest shift in the color of the crotch of her panties, to boot.

"I mean, I was gonna go curl up under the covers, but...y-yeah...that'd be nice," Ira agreed, and no sooner than he said the words did Trish turn and kick her legs up on the couch. Her thighs stayed spread wide and the book stayed up at the soft comfort of her breasts, but she still tapped the cushion in front of her with her toes. "You sure you don't mind?"

"If I have to give you a more obvious invitation, I'm gonna have to pay postage and wait for it to arrive," Trish joked. "Come on over, kiddo. Make yourself comfortable."

Snuggling wasn't such a taboo thing in the pack house, either, but Ira couldn't pretend that he hadn't seen that little bit of moisture between his mother's legs; he wasn't so bold and confident that he ever assumed Trish would come onto him so obviously, but as he stepped around the couch and climbed between her legs, he felt her feet drape over the backs of his thighs, and a quick curl of the toes did away with any doubts he had left.

"Thanks, Mom," he murmured, growing more bashful by the moment as he moved into place. He could feel the warmth between her thighs even before he reached the apex, and as a covered bulge came to rest against the vixen's pubic mound, Trish had to fight back the urge to moan into her child's ear, feeling greater pleasure from that contact than she was ready to admit. "You, uh...y-you enjoying your book?"

"It's quite the inspirational collection, yes," Trish confirmed. "A little anthology called "Close to Home" that I think you'd be quite a fan of, if you decided to give it a read sometime."

Ira never found as much time for literature as he would have liked, and he wasn't going to be able to sneak a peek at any of the pages, right then: once his head was under the book and resting against his mother's chest, it was a forgone conclusion what would happen next, even if he never took those interactions for granted.

Within the pack, there were very few boundaries to be had, and those that existed were always respected, but Ira had inherited a more timid nature, akin to his father: it still surprised him that so many other members of the pack found him attractive, and that his mother was giving him such an alluring stare wasn't lost on him...nor could he resist the way it played into his growing excitement.

"Not sure I'd have the attention span to get very far with it, right now," Ira confessed. "All I can think about is getting warmed up..."

"Do you really mean that?" Trish asked, as she set the book aside and slipped her fingertips toward the hem of her comfortable, baggy t-shirt. "Or do you mean something else; something that you're still a little too shy to admit, perhaps?"

Ira wasn't leaning against Trish fully enough to keep the stretching fabric of her shirt in place. One tug at a time, that hem snuck out from under his leaning torso, and before he could protest, a grinning, silver vixen was flashing the warm, enticing gap of her cleavage to him, complete with the small, painted star at the top of her chest...a place that she only allowed those she truly cared about to venture.

That her own son was gazing upon that spot with such reverence was all the proof she needed that he was a little bashful to tell her the truth, but he was telling the truth with the weight in his stare...

...Though, if she'd somehow missed that, she never would have missed the covered throbbing of his cock against the covered moisture of her petals.

"I mean, if...if you meant that ," Ira paused, glancing away from his mother's enrapturing gaze, "That's one way to warm me up, I suppose."

Trish giggled as she lifted her arms, draping them over the back of her son's neck. She tugged just enough to give him the silent permission he hoped for, and a moment later, she shivered with the chill of his cool, wet nose against the fluff of her star.

"Feels like you've got a lot of w-warming up to do, then," she mentioned. As digits smoothed their way down his neck and over the middle of his back, Trish did her best to keep an eye on the younger crossfox, satisfied to see just how content he was to rest against her bosom once more. "And mommy is always happy to help you with that, Ira..."

They didn't share quite the same, impassioned connection that Katy and Gavin shared: instead, they were softer and sweeter with each other, preferring a level of company that was every bit as satisfying on an affectionate level as it was on a sexual one.

That wasn't to say that they ignored the pleasure of the act, of course. To the contrary, Ira was all too happy to feel his mother giving a suggestive tug at the waistline of his slacks, quietly demanding that he move them away before they took matters any further.

Unless you want me to pee on your jeans, she thought.You know I'm not opposed, Ira...

Much as Trish would have been fine adding another layer of kink to their afternoon delight, she was that much happier to feel her son tugging the button apart as she pushed, making it easy for his pants to slide down; the extra help from her thumb made sure that his boxers would join in that same motion, and a moment later, she felt the tip of his length against her covered folds, tickling through the fabric upon them.

"Are you...a-are you sure this is okay?" Ira asked, his muzzle still pressed into the subtle fluff around the painted star. "I know it's kinda silly to ask now, but..."

His voice trailed off behind the eager swirl of his tongue, passing through her cleavage and drawing him closer and closer to a tender, perked nipple.

"I'm still glad that you do ask," Trish assured him. "But anytime my handsome, young man needs a little attention, a little warmth, a little something more...I hope he knows he can come to me for that."

Ever the loving mother, Trish was delighted to feel her son's lips sealing around the delicate nub of her nipple, and just like she'd hoped, he was suckling from the spot as eagerly as he ever had. The natural heat of her limbs draping over his form was all the warming up he needed , but now that a mere tug of her panties would be enough to bring them closer together, there was another heat that he desperately wanted.

He would still be too shy to admit it out loud, but Trish was more than happy to let him keep his bashful nature silenced behind her breast; she gladly took the lead and draped a paw away from his hips, tugging the soaked, pink crotch of those panties aside to let his naked, vulpine cock kiss against her tender petals.

"You still feel just a little chilly to me," Trish whispered, crooking her lips into the side of Ira's ear. "Good thing I've got one more trick up my sleeve...I know this'll warm you up."

To feel that slick, intimate heat upon the tip of his cock as she guided it inside would have been enough to melt Ira in an instant, but somehow, there was even greater warmth waiting behind that, flowing out in a slow, lazy trickle around the base of his cock.

Every inch of her own son was buried within her on a slow, comfortable thrust, and the blessing of her golden juices spilled upon his lap as she held him there for a moment, content to feel the delightful weight and pressure of his member within her.

Inner muscles seized up as she pushed back a little harder at him, forcing a fresh, jettisoned streak of her urine upon the hanging orbs of his sack; a muffled groan tickled her breast just moments later, and Ira was struggling to keep that delicate morsel in his lips as greater sounds of pleasure begged to be freed from his tongue.

"Was that enough for you, Ira?" Trish asked, her voice calm and collected despite the slow, messy pump of her son's hips against her body. A full splish followed as the last of her pee spilled over the base of shaft and puddled on the couch cushion, but her son was content to kneel in that mess and lean into her just a little further, until her legs could easily curl around the small of his back. "Sure feels like y-you're starting to warm up a bit..."

Feeling her inner walls quiver and squeeze around his length with such incredible skill, Ira knew he was working on borrowed time: just pumping through the stream of her fluid blessing was difficult enough to take without reaching his climax, but he wasn't racing the clock.

He was moving slow, falling away from a suckled tit so he could nuzzle lovingly into the other, rolling his hips into his mother more than he was properly thrusting.

No one makes love to me quite like you do, Ira, Trish thought. Such a gentle, caring lover...I'm truly blessed to have you.

There was no concern about the taboo of the act, no worry about the weight of a knot pressing against her petals, and no hesitance to take away the slowly building ecstasy of her orgasm.

"I think you warmed me up a little t-too fast," Ira admitted, but he knew Trish would have already feel the stronger, telltale pulses in the length of his shaft, warning her of the volume that was about to flood her womb; he'd inherited his father's voluminous nature. "I hope that's oka-

"It's better than okay," Trish cut him off, pausing his concerns just long enough to rest her palm under his chin. She didn't want to let him escape his gaze: she wanted him to know how much his comfort mattered to her. "It's been far too long since you shared all of yourself with me, Ira...p-please...please let me feel your love again, baby..."

She wasn't expecting her son to lean further in and capture her lips in a kiss, nor to see the color of his orbs a moment later, but their eyes finally did settle and close as the pair shared an intimate, quivering taste of each other's lips.

A muffled groan escaped from both sides, and as a slick, silky coating of feminine arousal spilled over Ira's sack, the heat of his seed gushed across his mother's insides, soaking her inner walls with such a plentiful load of cum that she immediately recognized the warmth of the same, her lips curling to feel that intimate connection renewed.

She wouldn't let her son's lips escape when her tongue finally brushed in for a taste, but she'd let him moan into her flesh as much as he wanted...and she'd keep him moaning as long as she could, as inner muscles seized up around his knot with orgasmic bliss.

And now that you're nice and warm, she thought, We can really get down to business...