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Hal sniffed, smacked his lips, swallowed down some of the stickiness of sleep, and stifled a yawn with one hand while stirring the spoon in his mug with the other. The heat of the brew simmered out through the cup and along his normally cold fingers, little tendrils of steam curling up into the still midmorning air of the apartment; after a moment longer he lifted it up, held it nestled in his other hand as well, and took a slow, careful sip of the morning chocolate, gladly letting the bittersweet touch of the mixture tickle at his leafnose.

That perked the bat right up. Thick, silken sweetness coursed back and down, and one tall ear perked before the other. He straightened his back, stretched an arm over his head, voiced a wide yawn, held the mug out to the side while his body shook in indulgent delight, then sighed that breath right back out and looked down through eyes still bleary.

And there across the speckled surface of polished granite, striking a stark contrast to the tan and black, rested a good several inches of Hal's taut, heavy morning wood, also twitching gently, rocking with his natural pulse, occasionally shifting with the natural reflexes of his body. He hadn't _meant_to flop it there, but his half-asleep mind had provided little other option when he had sidled up to prepare his morning drink. Besides, the counter was at _just_the right height, and it kept him from thumping and bonking against the drawers and the oven as he pottered around getting things ready, and also the cool stone felt quite nice against hot, eager mindless meat.

The ghost bat glanced down into his mug again, little specks of the not quite dissolved tablet clinging to the inner walls. He blinked foggily, swallowed again, turned the cup towards his maw, parted his lips, and curled the long tendril of his tongue in, careful not to dive into the searing fluid itself. Satisfied for now he took another sip and turned to head back to the bedroom, though grimaced at the grip and tug of cold stone on warm flesh; when he turned to look he saw a stream of humid condensation left there in the distinct shape of himself, the granite underneath having gathered tiny beads of sweat and scent. He smirked at that, reached down with his other hand to give himself a touch, a squeeze, a stroke, got briefly distracted there with his mug of hot chocolate lifted to his lips and his arm moving... and then he shivered, blinked, and continued on out of the kitchen.

It was important that he not get too into it, of course, but that was hardly a risk given the circumstances. Just enough so that he felt the weight of hungry morning arousal with each step, sleepy yet indulgent, and had to be careful each time he took a corner so as not to bang against the threshold. Halfway down the hall he took another sip of the hot chocolate, delighting in the cozy familiarity of this slow, easy morning.

Upon returning to the bedroom he nudged the door gently open along a great, thick-furred shoulder, ducking his head down so that his ears wouldn't clip the top of the frame, and stepped slowly inside. The quite whirr of the ceiling fan, the occasional whisper of wind through the trees outside down below the apartment window... and if he stood still and tilted his head, there was the quiet, rhythmic pace of breathing other than his own, following the slow rise and fall of the shape beneath the sheets on the bed. Hal smirked again, slid his mug to his other hand, and stepped around to the other side, fingers and claws tracing over the soft sheets as he went.

And then it took effort not to scoff out loud once he made it to the other side, as there from underneath the sheets, the shapes and lumps following the figure of a large, sleek Great Dane pushed out towards the edge of the mattress and hung heavily off - with the plump, moist flesh of her full canine spade hanging out even further. Sleek yet textured, glistening with natural wetness even this early in the morning, Hal took a moment to just take in the sight of that leathery black flesh, wrinkled lips curled together in such a familiar shape... and then again, another smirk stifled behind the rim of his mug as he noticed Camellia was certainly trying her best to keep from wagging her tail, the base of it still stirring where the sheets so conveniently draped over the curve of her haunches.

Each time that tail leapt so too did the mass of heavy meat hanging down underneath it, her tailhole twitching and tugging with the movement and then that hefty sex jiggling as well, lips pulling gently apart to show a flash of bright, wet pink inside before they pressed together again, the movement so slight so as not to make any noise for once. Hal swallowed down that sip, once more changed hands, and reached forward to run his fingers around over the dog's protruding offering. The skin and flesh shifted easily to his touch, soft and sleek; he nestled it in the space between his forefinger and thumb, lifting up into the heavy, humid heat that pressed down around him, then wrapped gently around, gave a squeeze and a tug until that same fresh pink showed from inside, thick strands of natural wetness spreading between parted lips.

The bat lifted his mug once more to down the last of the chocolate, though kept his eyes down towards the true focus of his attention here. One finger soon joined by a second nestled up between those folds, plunging smoothly, gently into warm wet walls; he squeezed, pressed, pulled her open, then turned his hand to lift his thumb up along the other side, pushing back against the hanging weight of plump lips. The stirring of Camellia's tail redoubled; Hal shifted his hand while keeping her spread, then angled his hips around to line himself up, tilted forward, rested the underside of his length down against that revealed meat, and started to press himself slowly forward.

That slick warmth stretched, squeezed... parted around him, slipping gently around the end of his shaft and then squeezing into place around the contours, sucking tight and cushioning him in dense humidity. A reflexive shudder echoed up the bat's back and left his mouth in a rumbling sigh as he pressed deeper, sinking easily into the Dane's depths while she shivered and clenched around him, rings of internal muscle gripping. Now Camellia made no effort to hide her wagging, the movements making her wiggle and jiggle around him; Hal ran his tongue around his protruding fangs, pulled in another breath through his unique nose, and then leaned forward to rest his mug atop the nightstand, at the same time driving himself deeper into the dog atop the bed.

Her tailhole kissed against his hip, his balls brushed against the edge of the mattress... he reached forward, flipped the sheets back, and couldn't help but let the sweet smile spread across his snout as Camellia lifted her head, half-limp ears bouncing and jowls swinging gently as well. When their eyes met her tail redoubled its pace, straining against his side and now threatening to bruise his elbow.

"Good morning, sweetheart," the bat cooed, and leaned in to touch his nose to her muzzle. Though the expected scent of canine prevailed on her, above it lingered a cool floral touch as though she had just run through a field of flowers in bloom. Many nights Hal had spend with his face pressed into her neck, her shoulder, her back, or any other part of her, breathing that same scent often strung through with the same bright richness of arousal that wafted up from below... he turned his head, moving along in a slow nuzzle, and began to draw his hips slowly back out. "Did you sleep well?"

"I slept in," she rumbled in response, tilting her head back. The bat's hand slid around her shoulder towards her neck, then up along her chin - and he met her in a soft kiss. "You did, too."

"Hard not to..." Hal shivered, teeth gritted, and gave her one more peck before straightening back up again. When he looked down now he saw her spade stretching to accommodate his girth, pulling out just as he did: thick wet black-fleshed lips sucked along his length, smearing him in glossy moisture. "And, see, I ended up coming right back to bed, didn't I?"

The one hand still at her neck, he slid the other back along smooth charcoal fur to lift up at her rump, spreading her spade where it mushed around him. Yet again that black meat curled back to show wet pink inside, squeezing lusciously around him as he continued to pull out, the rest of her sex sleeving around him; he let her lips close around him again and then in a full hand squished her around himself, holding her protruding sex in place while he began to thrust back in again. Warmth and wetness, resistance and slickness slid and tugged and sucked and pulled, and Hal was grateful for the mattress right here against his legs or else he would have crumpled forward around her.

Still holding her in place there he once more leaned forward, this time meeting the Dane in a kiss that soon expanded into a string of several, breaths wrapping and curling around one another, tongues to lips back and forth, while he felt her body lurch and bounce underneath him. When he released her spade and returned his now sex-slickened hand to her haunch, when he pressed forward and buried himself inside of her, he felt that warm flesh squish around him, pillowing yet again; there it pressed, squeezing out against his loins, then tugged right back around as he once more pulled back.

The longer he went on the more he could feel the energy beneath her breath and in her kisses, until Camellia's eyes fluttered open and she drifted away a little bit, letting the tension go out of her body and resting her head along his arm. Her broad, flat tongue flicked out again, then hung there in gentle panting; each time her body swung forward it rocked behind the motion a little bit, a thin strand of drool hanging down, wobbling in the air, catching along her lovely fur, much like the slickness of shared arousal that clung to the bat's shaft now buried to the base inside of her, now sliding out so that just the end remained inside of her. He felt those thick ropes swing against him, catching along his base and then rolling down his sack as well, oozing into thick fur and matting it down; it stained the sheets and soaked into the mattress, certainly not for the first time.

Hal leaned forward, bracing both hands against the bed near Camellia's head, and smiled down at her through eyes halfway lidded, all the movement churning down in his hips alone while he worked himself against and inside of her. She swallowed, shivered, and sighed again, then rolled her head to the other side to get a look at him from a different angle.

All in all this was just like any other morning, and neither would have it any other way.