FSE

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It was a strange choice, perhaps.

But it was the best thing for him.

After three weeks in hospital and two months couped up in a recovery centre, most might have wanted to go home. Not Quan. To him, all that was left of the place were memories--something different would be standing in its place now, something heartless, unknown.

So he'd begged Camilla to take him somewhere else, anywhere else, and she'd picked Elderwood. The same place they'd both spent their weekdays for the past twenty-five years.

'I don't believe you', he'd told her when they were in the car, coasting along what he assumed was a highway.

'Don't believe me about what?'

'I think you're taking me somewhere else. Let me guess... the park. No--the beach. I bet you've planned something romantic at the beach.'

'We're nearly there. Roll down the window.'

'What?'

'Go on.'

He fumbled for the switch, pressed it. Felt his eyes squint shut against the sudden blast of wind. He had to shout over the roar. 'Alright, what now?'

'Smell.'

'What? Smell?' He drew in a deep breath, tried to pick out the scents. Rubber, fumes, fuel... behind that, the vague aroma of freshly cut grass. 'I don't get it.'

'What don't you smell?'

He thought. 'Salt water. Sunshine. Happiness. Okay fine, not the beach then.' He flicked the window back up and reduced the rushing wind to a rumble. They lapsed into a moment of silence.

'We can go to the beach if you want...' Camilla had piped up.

'No, it's fine. I wanna see what you had planned.'

She'd sounded embarrassed when she said; 'I think we should go to the beach.'

But they hadn't. Instead they'd parked, carefully negotiated their way to the doors, and padded inside the Elderwood Complex food court entrance.

'I mean, it's... familiar, at least. I guess.' Was it familiar? He supposed he could pick out the sounds of the arcade machines a few zones down, smell popcorn from the cinemaplex nearby. But if she hadn't told him it was Elderwood, he could have guessed any other mall.

Still, he tried to remain chipper. Didn't want her to worry. 'Did you have anything specific planned? I'm getting pretty hungry.'

Camilla had one paw on his shoulder, and she squeezed it lightly. 'I... um... I just thought we could sorta wonder around. Sorry, this isn't what you wanted at all is it? I didn't have time to think of anything else, I just assumed we'd go back... home...' She trailed off.

He reached around, patted her hip. 'This is nice. Let's eat and then you can take me around.'

Before, they'd have split up to explore their favourite eateries and met with full trays at a table later on. But things were different now. Camilla took him to his favourite place, ordered something for herself there too. He wanted to tell her not to, tell her to go get a plate at 'Hot Den' like she always did, but the thought of her leaving him alone stayed his words.

Carrying the trays was troublesome too. She was trying to guide Quan _and_carry her food while he held his own tray in front like a highschool newbie looking for a table in the canteen. When she tried getting him through the narrow aisles he bumped into one of the tables and nearly dropped everything. He hastily apologised to the general area but apparently the table's occupants weren't having it, telling him off until he felt Camilla make some kind of gesture and then the people in front of him were apologising themselves and their words dripped with pity. It made his jaw clench.

'Is there anywhere else we can go?' he begged when they'd extracted themselves.

'Um...' he felt Camilla briefly let go of his shoulder, before clamping her paw firmly back down a moment later 'Yes. Actually, there is.'

It was a bit of a walk, but they didn't bump into anyone else. He could hear the thrum of voices all around, so he wondered if Camilla was leading him expertly or if everyone else knew, were parting around him like some kind of biblical sea.

He had no idea where he was now. He'd been coming here for so long, yet he wasn't sure if they were passing the cinema or headed straight for the department stores. If it had been him leading Camilla, things would be different. She'd be pointing out scents and making jaunty and slightly insulting comments about other people, and her life would be the same, he thought. She was a terrier; sight was only part of her world.

In his first week at the clinic he'd learned newcomers were separated into three departments. It was supposed to help the staff make treatment plans, but to Quan it simply felt like dividing everyone up into how shitty their lives were going to be now. Those animals over there, they've got brillianthearing, they'll do just fine. Those, they've got perfect smell... they might be a little slower, but they'll get where they need to go with ease. And... well, see that bandicoot over there? He's screwed.

He hadn't been a particularly good patient the first month at the treatment centre. He'd said some dumb stuff; told one of the youth speakers that it was different for her, that she was blind at birth so she 'wasn't missing out.' He was better about it now, but he still couldn't help the overwhelming sense that there just wasn't... any point anymore. He'd been able to see in the dark better than others could in the day. Could pick out the tiniest of imperfections in clothes and see colour like no one else. He'd been a designer at the peak of his game, and now...

'We're here.'

'Where.'

She reached around, tapped his nose. 'Smell.'

He sighed, took in a deep breath. It was hard picking things out in this smörgåsbord of weekend activity. 'New shoes. Sweat. Pizza? When did we get a pizza place?'

'Keep going.'

'Uh... tiles. Cleaning products. Damp fur... no, not fur... it's kinda like moss or something?'

Camilla squeezed his shoulder. 'Exactly. And..?'

'Wood. Water. How didn't I smell that before? It's everywhere.'

'You can hear it too.'

He could, now that he thought about it. Behind the voices, the clink and clack of shoes and hooves and the irritating drone of a spruiker somewhere behind them, there was a small water feature... several small water features. 'We're at the fountain.'

'We are.'

He smiled. 'We had our first lunch date here.'

'We did.'

He leant back into her. She was a lot taller than him, and he liked that. She was this big, tall, stern-looking canine, but that also made her warm and firm and perfect to curl up next to.

'We haven't been here for ages.'

'Australis is on the other side of the complex, and you're lazy.'

He sighed. 'I wish we'd come here more often. Is the water still kinda green?'

'Dunno. Doesn't matter. It smells better than it used to. Come on, let's sit over there.'

'Over where, Camilla.'

'Shit, uh... sorry.' She steered him westward as he chuckled.

It hadn't always been called Australis. It used to be 'Simmons', Camilla's last name. It'd been a cute little boutique that sold handmade clothes to rich aunties. He didn't much like the stock, had only applied because he was desperate to work somewhere that wasn't fast fashion. It turned out Simmons was very slow fashion--it had a workshop out back and the tailor had left several months ago.

She'd scared him at first. He'd almost wheeled around in the shop, resumé still clutched in his paw. But her eyes had kept him there, bright and gold and confidently amused. She'd pulled the paper from his paws, glanced it over, asked him what he was wearing. He'd said he'd made it himself, and she asked him when he wanted to start.

Camilla later told him it was his smell that caught her attention. Not his own scent--though apparently that had been nice too; foreign, exotic, tinged with dusk and sand and iron--but the strange aura of his outfit. It was a fetching shirt and trouser combo, and to her it smelt... like something between an orange and a freshly-juiced plum, mixed with crumpled paper and dried sunflower leaves and... bees?

It was Quan's thing: he liked to make clothes out of unusual fibres. One of his friends back home made paarluc cloth--honeysuckle cloth--and he'd had a go stitching it into a scarf. It wasn't strong enough at first, so he'd had them add other local things, djiridj and eucalyptus, and that was it.

After he and Camilla had become partners, in business and in life, he'd suggested the name Boodja Madji. It roughly translated to 'fibres from home', but Camilla didn't like it, wanted something less confusing to the everyday customer, something 'sellable.'

So 'Simmons' had become 'Australis', one shop had become sixteen, and the rest of their life had been written. Or so he thought.

'You've zoned out again.'

They'd finished their meal and were sitting together now. Close enough that their fur was touching; his long and bristly, hers short and soft. He looked up at her, wondered if their eyes were meeting. 'How could you tell?'

'I just know. What were you thinking about?'

'Us.'

She squeezed his paw. 'Me too.'

'Dress me up.'

A pause. 'What?'

'Dress me up. Pick out some clothes for me. Whatever you want, I'll wear. There's not much point me doing it.'

'Quondan...'

'I'm not being angsty again, I promise. Just... I'm not going to get much enjoyment out of it anymore, so... I want you to. Seriously, I'll wear anything.'

Another pause. '...Anything?'

He wondered if he was going to regret this. 'Anything.'

Camilla stood up. For a brief moment they weren't touching. It was just him, on a bench, in the middle of a crowded complex bigger than an airport. He put his paw out, touched her thigh.

'What're you doing there?'

He trailed his paw up to a slightly more appropriate area. 'Nothing.'

'I was just stretching. Here...' she took his paw, held it tightly. He knew he'd have to practice with that stupid stick more, he couldn't rely on Camilla to lead him around forever, but... not yet.

'Where're we going?'

'Australis.'

He scrunched his face up. 'Really? We can go anywhere and that's where you choose?'

'Janie told me they've got the nighthide line in finally.'

'Nighthide? That stuff's for newlyweds and randy couples, why do you... want...' He trailed off. The question lay tantalisingly between them. Camilla didn't answer it, just squeezed his paw again. He pressed his lips together, nose twitching. 'Well, alright then.'

They hadn't had sex in three months. Obviously not, he'd been in the recovery centre for most of it and that place wasn't exactly private. But even if he hadn't, he wasn't sure he'd be up to it. Still wasn't sure, really.

He'd found Camilla so very, very attractive. He'd adored looking at her, at her eyes and her face and her body and, yes, her magnificent bust. Of course there was so much else to love about her too, but... the thought of never being able to drink in the sight of her made it hard for him to get excited. And he knew it was stupid, but he couldn't help it.

Nighthide hadn't been his idea, nor Camilla's. That little slice of seduction had come from Janie, the hip and trendy manager of their main shop. He still wasn't sure it was a good idea; their clientele wasn't exactly the kind to slip into silky lace and form-fitting, bulge-enhancing boxer shorts, but Janie had been confident that Australis' now-renowned sensory extras would capture the market 'like never before'. So they'd promised to give it a shot.

'Day five of Nighthide', Camilla said to the girl as they sidled behind the counter. 'How's it going?'

It was busy, Quon could tell, and he picked out the voices of several other employees around the store. Janie was on the register, it seemed. He could hear the heavy crinkle of paper bags and the gentle whisper of clothes sliding into them. 'Not good', was her reply. She sounded smug, which was odd, but then she always sounded smug.

Camilla knew more than Quon, apparently, because she too sounded amused. 'Oh?'

'We keep selling it all in the first hour. There's a crate just been delivered out back but I can't get it on the floor 'till tomorrow 'cause of the promos.'

Another loud crinkle, and then, 'you have a lovely day now, and we'll see you again soon!' Janie's voice became slightly louder, and he figured she'd turned to face them. 'Quondan, it's... good to see you in here again.'

'I'd like to say the same, but...'

'Oh, I... I'm sorry, I didn't mean--'

'He's just making a joke, hun. Or trying to anyway', Camilla assured her.

'Gotta get something out of it', he grumbled.

'Hopefully the sales keep up, then. You've done a great job, Janie. Actually, I was rather hoping I could take a look at some of the finished products myself. Did you say there's some out back...? Good. Listen, I'm going to grab a few items and take Quon into the dressing rooms. I know you're busy but we'll need a while...'

'That's fine, I'll let the guys know to leave you alone.'

He didn't use to like small spaces. They used to make him feel trapped.

But now, when he could reach out his arms and feel the walls, it comforted him.

He could feel Camilla's breath on his muzzle. It was warm, scented of their meal, and just slightly wet, moisture pricking the skin beneath his fur.

'Are you ready?' she whispered.

'Ready.'

He jumped a little when her paws touched his hips. Her claws tapped him lightly as she took the hem of his shirt and began pulling it up. He normally wore dress shirts, smart trousers and polished shoes, but since the accident he'd only worn what was comfortable and easy to take on and off. He appreciated that even more now as he lifted his arms and let her pull it up and over his head. His hackles rose in the slightly cool air as he stood there, shirtless. Camilla placed her paw high on his chest, gently thumbed his long fur, then leant in and licked him on the side of his muzzle. Just a little show of affection, right on the corner of his lips, and it made him shiver. Tingles ran up his back as her paw slid down his chest.

She took his pants down too, and he gingerly stepped out of them. His underwear was still on, but he knew it wasn't hiding much. He waited, but she didn't come back up.

'Where are you?' he whispered. He waved a paw through the space in front of him--nothing. He felt the back of his head prick in needless panic.

A paw at his hip again, warm, comforting. The voice came from below him. 'It's alright. Smell.'

He took in a deep breath, concentrating, and was immediately assaulted by the potency of the shop's materials. Brushed cloth, soft cloth, velvet cloth; the spice of old fibres, and the dust of straw and musk; salt, earth, sand, smells of home; the luxury of spun silk mixed with geraniums and wattle. He'd spent so much time with each garment, pouring over its look and design, its colour and fit... but it was Camilla who'd been so entranced by the scent. She'd long experienced a part of it he'd never bothered with.

He could smell her too, of course, the scent of Camilla that made him feel so safe. But it was everywhere in this small room, he couldn't pinpoint it. He took another breath in through his nose, opening his mouth to introduce his tongue to the room, and he finally caught it; coconut and hibiscus. The other scent of Camilla. She kept her hair short, but the scent trails of the conditioner twirled up and around in his mind to a head-shaped blur, hovering right in front of his waist. He let out a little sigh, reached down. He was slightly off, hit her ear instead, but adjusted and ran his long fingers through her hair.

She briefly intwined her other paw with his before returning to the task at hand--his underwear. They were off before he could say anything, and he felt his penis bounce up and out. There was a scent to that too, just a light one, and he didn't half mind it. He tried to visualise how close she was to him, but she answered that question with a light kiss on his cockhead. He grunted, tried to push forward but she was already up and backing away.

'Not yet... we've got clothes to try on.' He heard her ruffling around with fabric before stepping back up to him. 'And remember, you said _anything_I want.'

She had a shirt for him first. He could immediately tell which one after she held it up to his nose. It was infused with a strong-smelling bottlebrush--they called it kwowdjard back home--which made a stiff yet soft fabric ideal for button-ups. At least, that was the cited reason for its inclusion, but the other truth was that Camilla had said it smelled 'extra sexy' during testing, then wrapped a length around his neck like a scarf and mounted him right there in the tailor's room.

'Really? The business in bed line?'

'Hey, you promised. I think they're cute.'

The shirts were explicitly designed not to be buttoned up. Sure, they could, but they sat best open and nicely showed off the chest of the wearer.

Camilla 'rrfff'ed happily when he got it on. She spent a while pinching various points, settling it onto his thin body, then stepped back. 'Gah, you're adorable.'

'What colour is it?'

'Smell.'

He rolled his eyes--still a habit--then bent his neck and sniffed. Bottlebrush, coastal cotton, a hint of laurel... that was it. 'I don't know,' he sighed.

'You're doing good, just gotta practice more. Do it again with me.' He heard her take a breath, then lick her chops. 'Cherry, just a little, and... um, is it 'Djuba'?'

He smiled. 'Those tubers I brought it last year? It's "Djubak.". A pink shirt, then?' He rotated on the spot, posing for her. 'Nice choice. I looked good in pink.'

'You still do.' She let out a quiet chuckle. 'When you twist like that your dick wobbles side to side.'

'Hey, not so loud', he grumbled. 'And wobble isn't a very sexy word.'

'Yes it is!' She grabbed his paws and pulled him forward. He felt flesh, soft flesh, beneath her thick jumper, and he squeezed experimentally. He snorted when she shimmied her chest a little, making her breasts wobble.

'Okay fine, maybe it is. You know, I'm standing here all naked--'

'--Apart from a very sexy shirt.'

'--Naked apart from a sexy shirt, but you're still all dressed up.'

She hummed. 'I didn't bring any clothes for me to try on.'

'Oh yes you did.' He slid the shirt off each shoulder and handed it over to her. 'Go on.'

She protested, but only for a moment. He listened to her undress, enjoying the quiet sounds of her movements. Fabric shuffled and then _thumped_to the floor. 'Done.'

He tapped his bare foot on the carpeted floor. 'Done?'

'Yeah. Do you... wanna make sure?'

He grinned and moved forward. His step was slightly too big and he landed on her foot, pushed her back against the wall, and there was a brief pause before the both giggled. He put his paw up to her cheeks, guided by the smell of her hair, and stood on tiptoe to kiss her. Her tongue flickered over his teeth as he moved his paw downward and over her naked body.

She'd always clipped her fur short, kept it soft with careful grooming. It was a good reflection of her personality; short, blunt, confident, yet gentle and loving too. He loved her fur.

He found her neck, trailed his fingers to her collarbones. There was a chain just above them, small and fine. He leant in close, breathed in. Overwhelmingly Camilla, her fur and her sweat and her shampoo, but the metallic scent of her necklace too. It was the silver one with the beads, he decided.

He went around, felt down the outsides of her arms. He used his short, blunt nails for that, and he felt her shiver pleasurably at the touch. He felt her paws, strong, quite big, bigger than his. He brought one up, smelled it, but the collection of scents from the day was too much for him to even begin to unpack.

Back up her arms he went. She held them out for him, as far as she could in the confines of the dressing room, and he tried to use his nails again but that made her squirm so he switched to his fingers, made sure he wasn't too light to tickle her. He ended at her armpits, felt the fur slightly matted underneath, her musk stronger. He didn't think it weird, simply brought out a finger and ran it experimentally under his nose.

He found himself wishing he could infuse her scent into a garment, just like he had for numerous other plants back home. But then he decided that was something a serial killer would imagine, so he moved on.

Her breasts. He knew them well, very well. He'd spent so much time on them throughout their life together that he felt rather bad for neglecting the rest of her body. Why were they any more exciting than her elbow, or her knee?

But then he had to admit... the feel of them in his paws really was quite lovely. And she clearly enjoyed it too, because he felt her breath on the top of his head catch, heard her heart quicken. He run his thumb over her nipple, prominent past her clipped fur. He kissed around them, teasing her, enjoying the taste of her fur, before finally moving onto them.

He'd never realised they tasted different. Like rubber, or silicone, but also not. The taste of not really having a taste, yet he liked it. He sucked more, bit down ever so gentle with his flat teeth, making her softly moan. But he couldn't stay there forever.

He'd discarded the shirt somewhere behind him, tried to find it with his foot. He tried smelling for it but Camilla's scent was too powerful, so he just kicked around till he found it and brought it up. He felt for her arm, slid it through the sleeve. The gentle tttssshhh of the fabric rushing over her fur sent tingles down his spine. He did the same for her other arm, then held the collar and centred the garment on her. He slid his fingers down the open gap, bumping over the buttons, felt the rise of her chest and the larger bump of her still-hard nipples--accompanied by a soft 'oh' from her--and finally reached her belly. She wasn't plump--she'd always been lean and a little bony--but reaching middle-age she'd developed something of a tummy and he loved it. She didn't usually like him touching it, but now she let him explore her, testing its softness, feeling it curve down to her hips--and the deeper curve down to her pudenda. He itched to go further but stepped back, turned to lean against the wall so she could see herself in the mirror.

'What do you think?'

Camilla was quiet for a moment and she turned this way and that, the stiff fabric swishing a bit. 'It's nice.'

'I bet.'

'It's nicer on you though. Can we buy it?'

'Cami, I'm pretty sure we could just take it. But... sure.'

'Thanks.' Then she sniffed. 'I would've bought it even if you said no though. Now let's focus on you again, I've got two more things to try.'

Next up was underwear. Not just any underwear either; these were the athlete line, he could tell by the smell of wolgol--sandalwood. A woody, chaff-like scent that had long been used in perfumes and incense, but never clothes.

Sandalwood fibres had another benefit too--they were tough, and very good at fitting the form. The models they'd brought in for ads had received a _very_good response from the public... though only after trudging through a significantly less encouraging response from the advertising agencies who insisted the clear outlines of various species' dicks were too lewd for copy.

He'd never tried a pair on himself, and he had to admit he was quite excited too. A fact which was rather clear to both of them.

'Should we wait for it to go down? I dunno if it's going to fit in these', Camilla mused.

'You know there's a few ways we could--'

'Not yet. It's more fun this way.'

He could tell she was grinning.

She guided him to step into the boxer shorts and slid them up his legs. She'd put the shirt back on him too, but he almost felt less decent than when he'd been naked. She grabbed his dick and tilted it up and slightly sideways against his body, pulling the underwear up the rest of the way. He immediately felt the pressure. It wasn't painful, but it was definitely there, the material pressing his cock into his own fur. He felt a bead of precum drip up, wet his fur, but it didn't show on the boxers.

He heard a swish swish, and took a moment trying to figure out what it was before he realised it was Camilla's tail wagging against the dressing room wall.

'I really like those', she said. 'Like, really like them. Are they comfortable?'

'I mean, I wouldn't wear them to the office, but... yeah. They're very supportive.'

'Sexy and sporty. I'm going to get Janie working on some bras for it next.'

'How much does it show? Like in our adverts?'

He heard Camilla click her tongue. 'I have no idea how we managed to get them up on the highway billboards. I can see the veins on your cock.'

'Our models weren't hard, but...' he reached down, gently felt over the bulge in his underwear. Veins and all... he quietly moaned and stroked along himself again.

'Hey, what did I say?' She slapped his paw away. 'Not yet. Let me admire you some more. Actually...' she pulled out the waistband, reached in and flipped his dick up and to the right this time, letting it angle slightly down the leg. 'Yeah, that's even better. Though you're still not sitting quite right...'

She touched him again. Harder this time. Her strong fingers gripped his shaft through the material, squeezing gently. It was obvious she wasn't _really_trying to adjust anything. But he didn't stop her, just let her play around.

He'd never been too sure about her pawjobs. The pads of Camilla's paws were quite rough, excellent for gripping, warm and comforting on his fur, but sometimes abrasive on the sensitive skin of his naked cock. In the past they'd just slid a condom onto him, but now the underwear worked to replace it... in fact, it felt better. The sweat-reducing material couldn't keep up with his dick as it drooled precum, soaking the fabric at his tip and then across, but the slightly wet sensation made it feel even better. Slicker.

He heard Camilla sniff, let out a little grumble. It took him a bit longer to smell it too--the scent of his arousal. Cold, but also hot, excited, like the odour of the cedars around the suburb in springtime. He wondered if the people outside could smell it too... but he decided he didn't really care. They were hardly going to be thrown out, after all.

'Is this nice?' Camilla whispered to him after she leant forward and rested her chin on his shoulder. Her arm continued moving between them, her paw working his dick, squeezing and groping.

'Yeah', he said breathily. 'We're definitely buying these.'

She chuckled, a low, throaty sound that vibrated his shoulder and made him shiver again. Her scent was so strong now it washed out everything else, but he didn't care--in fact, it turned him on even more. He began moving his hips against her arm, his breath quickening. It'd been, what, over three months since he'd orgasmed? That hardly felt possible, but it was true, and he could hardly wait to finally release now, even if it was into the boxers. They were buying them anyway.

But... Camilla had other plans. She knew him well, knew what his breathing meant, knew how close he was. She retreated once again and he gasped, his own paw coming to finish the job but she pushed into him, grabbed his wrists, held him up against the opposite wall. The mirror was cold on his naked back, almost stung, but it somehow added to the eroticism.

Their bodies were pressed together, her paws gripping his arms, her chest mushed against his, her tummy against his middle and his crotch against hers. He knew she must be bent down to level herself with him like this--she probably looked ridiculous, but it was hot too.

He played along, went limp, even though he desperately wanted to hump himself into her unclothed pussy. It was agony.

'Naughty boy', she grumbled.

'You just turn me on so much', he whispered.

He heard her smile--the sound of wet lips parting, pulling back against sharp teeth, the breath of amusement. She chomped down on the air between them, a seductive, hollow clack. 'Ditto. Let's make this last.'

They stayed there for a bit. He wasn't sure what she was doing--looking at him, thinking about things, making faces? But he was simply enjoying her proximity, being able to have her so close in such an intimate position, for the first time since...

'Camilla?'

'Huh?' She sounded a little startled.

'There's more to try on, right?'

'Right, yes. Just one more thing. And remember you said anything.'

'Uh oh.' He felt her move back, and the moment they stopped touching he felt colder. He reached out sideways, touched the dressing room walls, reminded himself they were there while she shuffled around. Then he felt something pressed onto his nose.

'Woah woah woah, are you trying to chloroform me or something?'

'Smell.'

'This is starting to feel like sniffing school or something. Do I get an extra credit if I get it right?'

'Smell.'

He sighed, did as he was bid. This one smelt different to the others; there was no cotton behind it, no cloth. Something else, something synthetic... but there was trademark Australis styling too. He tried to pull them out; they were faint, but they trigged something within him, something deep. Something from home.

'I can smell... I don't know what. It's tart, I think, but... a little sweet too. It smells... smooth, somehow.'

'Go on.'

He took another breath, trying not to think about the fact that he was just standing here huffing an item of men's intimate apparel in the dressing rooms right now. 'There's... leaves too, but not one of the big eucalypts, there's no oil scent to it. No perfume either, so no flowers.'

'You're getting closer.' Her other paw came to his shoulder, massaged it slowly.

'Tart, sweet... and needles. It's a conifer, but its cones are...'

His house, one of the classic 'down-under' bungalows. Out in the forests where there was only one sealed road, and it was cracked and potholed. When he'd returned home after meeting Camila, the town had been fixed up, expanded, thanks to the mines that had opened nearby. But it was at the expense of everything else. The drilling had spread the barkrot too, killed every gumtree for a hundred several kilometres around. Only thing that survived were the shrubs... like the wild plums. Or as they were called where he grew up; Quandan.

The fruit was nutritious, but tasted blander than it smelled. It was plain, but it served a purpose, and he felt the name was apt for him.

'You figured it out.'

'You didn't tell me about this one. Who designed it?'

'I did. Wanted to make something I find sexy, figured it might convince you to try a pair on. Didn't show you because I knew the moment you saw it you'd... well...'

She paused. He took it from her, stretched it out. The material was a little elastic, and it consisted of several bands and only one actual area of cloth. He sighed. 'This is what I think it is, isn't it?'

'You said anything.'

'I know...' he passed the jockstrap back to her. He'd tried one on once, back in highschool when he was dating a fox. It had looked pretty dumb, but he'd felt so damn sexy... until she'd burst out laughing so hard his parents came rushing in to see what the matter was. He'd avoided them ever since.

While Camilla held the jockstrap he slid down his own underwear. It was still soaked with him cum, and in a flash of boyish immaturity he picked it up and stuck it in front of her nose... or at least, tried to.

'Ow! That was my eye!'

'Shit, sorry, I--'

'What the hell? You just poked me in the eye with your cummy boxershorts?'

'Not so loud!' he hissed, face hot, fur standing on end. Well that had backfired. He half expected Camilla to berate him--she'd told him off before, when he deserved it--but instead she just snorted. Grabbed his wrist, pulled his arm up to her face.

'Joke's on you, I like your cum.' He heard a wet sound, followed by a few smacks.

'Did... did you just lick them?'

'I'm being extra kinky today. Here, I'll smell them too.' A loud sniff, followed by a cough. 'I think some just went up my nose.'

He laughed. 'You're insane. I love you so much.'

'Enough to try on the jockstrap?'

He sighed. 'Yes, enough to try on the jockstrap.'

It was a little difficult to put on, even with Camilla's help. He put his foot between the two back straps the first time, nearly tripped over when she tried to pull it up, and the second time she managed to somehow twist it around backward.

But eventually they succeeded, and she got it up and snapped the band around his hips. He grunted in a confused mix of worry and excitement as she tucked his still half-hard dick into the front pouch--these things weren't exactly designed to get erect in, but at least Camilla had had the foresight to make it a bit more elastic. After all, these seemed more for intimacy and show than any sort of physical support.

He felt the band with a finger, running it along the slightly fuzzy surface. There were areas of smoothness, and he quickly figured out it was writing, though he couldn't tell what it said. So he asked her.

She traced the lettering along with him. 'A-U-S-T-R-A-L-I-S.'

'The company name? That's kinda boring.'

'What do you want it to say? "Sexy boi alert"? I could probably get one made custom...'

'Australis is fine.' He traced the pattern at the end. 'And then the logo, right?'

'Right.' She pulled down on the back straps, getting them below his butt. He wondered if he actually did look as ridiculous as the fox from high school seemed to have thought. He moved his hips gently, also wondering if his dick was wobbling around like in the other boxers. But no, it felt more secure in these... and even more contoured, too.

He realised the dressing room had gone quiet. 'Cami?'

'Huh?' She sounded distracted again.

'Are they... what're you doing?'

'Nothing', she said a little too quickly and stepped back up to him, adjusting the jockstrap some more.

'You better not have been taking photos.'

'No, I promise', she said, sliding a paw inside the waistband to check the tightness.

'Then what?'

'Nothing', she insisted, sounding embarrassed. He scrunched his face up, sniffed, then took her wrist and brought it to his nose. Undoubtedly, that _Camilla_smell again, but stronger, purer, hotter. He hadn't smelt it like this since he last ate her out.

'You were masturbating?'

'Hey, you're extra hot in that, I can't help it.'

'Hypocrite!' he declared, waving her paw in front of her. 'Here you are denying me pleasure and you've been rubbing yourself this whole time?'

A moment of silence passed. Then she chuckled, that low, rumbling sound he loved so much. He joined in, quieter, and they embraced. He was still holding her paw though, so he brought it to his maw and sucked on two of her fingers. She sighed, brought him in tighter, slipped a third finger into his mouth. The flavour disappeared quickly but he pushed her paw back down, helped her gather more to taste again.

The dynamic had shifted now; he was in control. He stepped forward, she retreated, and then it was her back against the wall again. He didn't often take charge--that was Camilla's thing--but he knew she liked it when he did, so he pushed her harder against the wall and slid his own paw downward. He found her pussy with ease, its heat and scent practically drawing him, and searched for her clit. A quiet gasp, a little jump and a quickened heartbeat let him know he'd found it and he began working it, drawing little circles at first, clockwise five times and then counter-clockwise. She quickly fell into his rhythm, moving her hips against him, tilted her pelvis up to give him better access in the standing position. She had to keep her legs wide too, and he propped a knee between them, resting against her rump, to take some of the weight off.

She'd clamped her jaws shut, he could tell, because her moans came out as little melodic hums and the breath from her nose tickled his scalp. He bent his head forward, found her neck and began licking her, dragging his tongue through her soft fur, occasionally nipping whenever he switched up how he played with her clit.

'You can... go inside...' she whispered, though it was more of a command than an offer. He paused, kissed her neck before drawing up his juice-soaked fingers and waving them in front of her.

'You sure? Maybe we should wait 'till we get home...'

He normally kept his nails short, not just for Camilla but to aid his own work too, but he hadn't bothered clip them in the recovery centre.

'Just be careful', she urged, pushing his paw back down.

He wished there was a chair in here they could use. Instead he turned her around by her hips, bent her forward so she could hang onto the coatracks with her paws. It wasn't exactly a dignified position, but hopefully it would be easier for the both of them.

He knelt down behind her, running his paws down her soft rump. Her tail wagged excitedly, brushing over his head, but he didn't mind. He traced his fingers over her drooling cunt, once, twice, three times. He felt her twitch, pushing back into him, pining for more.

He relented, pointed two fingers forward and carefully slid into her. He knew the shape of her well, knew when to bend his fingers to avoid poking her with his nails. Still, he took it slow, gently, lovingly. With his other paw he reached around her leg, slid over her tummy and returned to her clit, rubbing slowly.

They fell back into an easy rhythm. It wasn't like the hard, desperate sex they'd enjoyed in their youths, or the couple times they'd been away from each other for too long and had been yearning for each other's touch. This should have been one those times, really, but it felt comforting to just take it slow, enjoy each other's bodies. It was as if they'd never been apart.

'That's good... that's really good', she panted. 'Do you... do you think I'd be safe with a third?'

'I'll give it a shot. Try not to move too much.' He pulled out, unbent a third finger and then pushed them slowly in. His fingers were too wide to completely avoid it, but he made sure the point of his nail never poked into her sensitive walls, just the backs of them. And it seemed like the hardness made her enjoy it more, because her tail sped its wagging and her breathing deepened.

'Fuck... yes...' She adjusted her footing, bent down further, pressing her back end closer to him. He got the message, sped up just a little, pumped her deeper.

Shlk. Shlk. Shlk.

There was something else he'd never thought about. Her smell, sure, it got stronger the more he played with her, but it never really changed. But the sounds... they certainly did. The slicker she got, the more apparent his ministrations became; he could hear a different wet crackle for every shape his fingers made. Curling them up, keeping them deep and firm, that made a lower shluck, together with an occasional pop. When he kept his fingers straight out, the sounds were lighter, quicker, and varied depending on how loosely he kept his fingers together. Shck, shlk.

Camila's reactions would change too; not just the sound of more pleasure, but the movement of her body too. She wore a necklace with a pendant and two beads, and when he went slow he could hear them swinging back and forth with each thrust. When he went fast, she'd lean upward more, and he'd hear them clink and lightly tap against her fur. Her breathing would shift with the movement too, and as she got closer to orgasm, she began panting, and then her tongue was lolling out and making its own sounds.

He hadn't brought her to the edge this quickly before. Normally it was more of an effort, something they'd plan for and work toward. In the past it was easier, but as they matured it became more special to set aside an evening to focus on her, put on a show they both liked so he could listen to it while he brought her off, and she wouldn't get bored until she drew close to orgasm.

It was invigorating, hearing her curse incomprehensibly under her breath. Her body was shaking more, and the coat hanger began rattling so he stood up and turned her around again, forcing her back flat against the wall. She got the message, spread her legs and he knelt again, maw open. Being a bandicoot had its benefits; his tongue was long and dextrous, like most marsupials, and he sure knew how to use it. Being as close as she was, he went all-in, sliding his tongue between her lips and fluttering it against her walls. His nose was mushed up against her clit in an oddly erotic way, while his paws roamed her hips and vaguely massaged and stroked her fur. He was making more noise than her now, saliva leaking wetly from his maw, moaning quietly into her, drawing in deep breaths between sucking and letting the warm air blow back over her pleasured cunt.

She didn't last long. He heard her bite down on something, and a crack of sandalwood and peppercress filled the air. She was moaning into his precum-soaked boxer. He couldn't help but laugh, which sent vibrations through her pelvis and only pleasured her more. She shook, rattling the wall now, and he pulled her back and embraced her, sliding his paw back down to her pussy to keep her riding her orgasmic wave.

'Hahh... mmrrpph... hhoohh... shit, Quon, that... ohh...'

He felt proud of himself. He went to slide his fingers back into her but she bat his paw away. He bit his lip. 'You've only had one...'

'I feel like I've... hahhh... had five...' she panted, then gently pat her pussy. 'Gonna need to give her a rest for a while.' She leant her weight on him and he grunted, having to shift his own weight. She was heavier than him, but he managed to keep them both standing. 'You know I'm gonna expect something like that every time now, right?' she added, and he chuckled.

They were quiet for a moment, just enjoying each other's company. Then Camilla's paw drifted downward. 'Want me to return the favour...?'

He laid his own paw on hers. 'I was hoping you'd offer, but...'

'...But?'

He squeezed her paw. 'Maybe we can do it at home? I think I'm ready to go back.'

He heard her smile again. She sat up, rustling the garments. 'I think I'm going to buy two of each. ...Maybe three of the jockstraps.'

They got dressed, Camilla made sure nothing was unseemly, and then escorted him out. Janie seemed slightly perturbed when they spoke to her--obviously they hadn't been as discrete as they'd hoped--and then they were out.

The walk back was nice. He tried to pick out different sounds and smells as he went, building a clearer mind map of the place. Camilla helped him by pointing out different things to listen out for, landmarks like the fountain or cinema plex that would provide a clearer scent.

At the car he heard the rustle of her carefully placing the Australis bag in the boot, and then they were both inside and buckled up. Before she started the car, she put her paw on his cheek.

'I'm proud of you, Quon.'

He smiled. 'I'm proud of me too. Gave my nose a real workout back there.'

'And you'll get another workout soon. Come on, give me a kiss.' He heard her chair shift as she leant forward.

'Where's your face.'

That lovely little sound of her smile again. 'Smell.'