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She couldn't believe this was happening. Could not believe_that this was actually _happening. Excitement, nervousness, and anxiety all bounced back and forth through her system, causing her paws to tremble when she lifted them at all. One rested against the cross fox's thigh while the other reached down towards the base here, the humid heat already emanating off of it, seeming to swirl and shimmer in the cool nighttime air along with his scent, intoxicating, enticing.

Is this just him? she thought, eyes halfway closed. Rola drew in a slow, slightly unsteady breath through flared nostrils, loving the way that scent tickled at her nose and the back of her throat like the thick, rich broth from a freshly made soup. Or are they - males, I suppose - all like this? Firm yet still soft flesh twitched and pulsed beneath her fingerpads, leaving them slightly greasy with natural slickness where they touched. He glistened in the light of the fire, the thicker, softer fur wrapped around his sheath and stirring sack shifting gently with little, natural movements, balls spreading out with her breath and then tugging slowly back up towards his body when she wrapped her fingers around his sheath, then squeezed, and pulled up, and pushed back down... and Marcus shivered and sighed again, his hips lifting up into the movement.

"That's good," he breathed. Rola felt another stir and pulse from deep within corroborate his words. "Feels good to - have that move around. Can't rely on it, though."

The albino wolfess looked up at him, questioning and curiosity on her muzzle. She pinched that supple skin between her first two fingers and her thumb and then just squeezed, noting the way that it slid smoothly over the buried flesh beneath, how it made the fox twitch and gasp and thrust again. Every time he pulsed his entire shaft seemed to grow for a second, swelling out within this little pouch and then receding to its normal size.

"So then what do I-"

Marcus lowered his voice again. "Use your mouth," he said; a careful claw trailed along Rola's chin to guide her up and around, and then he used that same claw to circle around the tapered tip of his shaft, and down along the underside. "Here, and here. Tongue first. Careful with the teeth. Some like that; I don't. Use your lips, too. Go slowly, be careful, but most importantly..." Then that paw came up around the side of her muzzle and behind her ears, lifting her up to look at him again - while at the same time drawing her deeper into the swirling scent rising off of him. "Make sure _you_enjoy it. That comes first, always. Remember that."

To that Rola couldn't help but give a little smirk. There was no worry about that: already she had had to adjust how she lay there, for the growing sticky slickness permeating down between her own thighs. It was only through careful nervousness that she hadn't dove down along him already, but at this point he had effectively given her permission, so she swallowed, wet her lips, took in another heavy, rich breath, and then finally closed the distance. First she led with her tongue, letting it come out and along the slick, curved underside there.

The texture, the feeling, wasn't quite what she had expected. There was still that soft-firmness, slightly textured, slimy_but in a good way... and the scent crystallized into a warmer, deeper taste, nowhere near as strong as she had braced herself for. More like an essence, like a suggestion coating the surface of her tongue and the inside of her mouth, strengthening each time she swallowed. It was admittedly a bit of an odd fit, this... _rod of meat resting along her tongue and cupping it around itself from its weight and presence, but the longer she held it there, the more she thought she liked it.

Then she took his word and slowly started to slide down, trying to keep him properly slickened as she went to prevent the skin of her lips pulling against him. Marcus shifted and shivered again, a low sigh rippling out from his parted lips; he sank back a little further onto the log and spread his legs, the movement a little tense, a bit shaky. Rola adjusted where she lay over his lap as well, now dropping that paw back down to the base of his sheath to continue rubbing there. That's good, he had told her, so as long as she continued doing that he would-

-or not. In another moment the cross fox moved his paw down as well and then entwined his fingers with hers, holding there for a moment before pulling her away... and instead down towards where his sack hung beneath his sheath, pouched within the front of his pants. He spread her fingers around there, then slid his paw away from hers so that Rola could take over.

And she did so, slowly and carefully as before, wrapping around those balls yet not squeezing. Instead she just felt them, the surprising depth of humid heat and loose, almost silken feeling as they stirred and rolled back and forth. If she wrapped her thumb up near the base and gave a little tug Marcus gasped and twitched again, hard shaft pulsing between her lips; if she released her fingers and instead lifted his sack up closer to his body, so that she could hook her thumb around the base of his sheath as well, he rumbled deep in his throat and rocked forward to slide himself deeper into her mouth.

All the while she continued away at him, sucking gently at his tapered tip, rolling her tongue back and forth along his underside. Nearly everything she did made him twitch, or shiver, or shudder, or thrust, or throb between her lips, but there were indeed a few spots that instead caused him to hiss and draw back, or to tighten his other paw on the back of her head. At one point his other paw joined the first there, sliding smoothly through soft fur... and he started to pull her slowly downwards, further along his length.

"It'll take practice," he murmured. Rola squeezed her eyes shut against the growing pressure. "And I won't force you. But once you get further along..." He shifted, reached down again, then with a forefinger and thumb slid the soft skin of his sheath back - where it remained, beneath the slight bulge of his knot. "Right down there is the best spot. But you don't have to make it there from the top. You can come up-" he tapped at her chin, guiding her upwards - "then go down along here, and..."

Rola's nose pressed up against the base of his hard cock, warm and wet from saliva as well as natural scent and the slickness of arousal. She swallowed, then did so again, and then let her tongue slip out towards the rim of his sheath right there underneath his knot.

It'll take practice, huh? She swallowed again. Then it's good we're in for a long journey.