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"Anon, I don't want to do this."

Birds chirp in the warm midday air, and it smells like fresh-cut grass.

"Come on, Rebecca. We have to."

The gigantic tigress looks down at you with a frown, hands on her hips.

"There's not enough room," she says.

"There's not always going to be," you reply, bouncing a little. "In fact, there's usually not."

She sighs, sports bra heaving. The sun makes her orange fur glow like fire.

"Anon, we're not sparring."

You almost goad her, but quickly decide otherwise. You're trying to keep her enthusiasm for martial arts, not kill it. The two of you have studied it together for a few months now; she's had no problems with the fundamentals, but it turns out your 10-foot tiger wife is reluctant to even play-fight with you.

You love her for it -- which is why you need to do this for her.

"Rebecca, we can't just keep punching air," you say, throwing a few to loosen up. "We've been doing basics for weeks now, we have to move on."

She rumbles, her ears flattening and tail flicking as she watches you.

"You wanted to do this, remember?"

"I never said I wanted to fight you," she replies, almost growling.

"That's part of learning how to fight, Rebby-Debbie."

Now she growls, though it's with a smile. She hates that pet name.

"You're not going to trick me into it," she says, crossing her arms over her chest. You sigh, lowering your guard. Rebecca keeps up the glare as you trudge across the grass, even when you throw your arms around her hips. It's the closest thing you can offer to a hug.

She softens a little when you nuzzle into her bare, furry belly.

"I want to help you," you say into it. "If you want to keep trying this, we have to."

The feeling of her paws on your back is divine, almost sapping your will.

"Thank you," Rebecca says, hugging you back. Her hips sway a little, her tail flicking at your hands. "I-I'm just worried I'll hurt you."

You groan into her belly, dragging your face away to speak clearly.

"We don't have to go full force, Reb. Just pull your punches, little tag hits."

She rumbles, stroking your head. You take a breath of her white fur and smell flowers. She jumps when you kiss it; you have to stifle a laugh.

"Like that," you say. The tigress laughs as you continue peppering her with pecks, prying your hands from her love handles.

"Okay, okay, fine," she says, batting your hands away and getting into a stance. "But if you get hurt, you're in big trouble!"

You ignore her and start circling, shuffling light on your feet. Going from the front is impossible with the tigress' enormous reach, you need to get to her side or her back to have any chance. She doesn't make it easy, barely having to turn to keep up with you.

"Well, Anon?" she asks. "I thought we were sparring?"

"Just -- we are!" you say. "I don't want to make it easy for you."

The tigress chuckles.

"I don't think you're doing very well."

"Then you throw the first punch!"

She laughs.

"No."

You sigh, then try a few jabs; none land. Rebecca just shuffles away or blocks with her legs. She nearly takes your head off with a low sweep of her arm, laughing when you scamper off. There's not much for it but to feint. Faking a switch to her inside should work, you'll keep most of your momentum. Then you can go for the knee, like all the modern anti-anthro arts focus on. Tag her there and work your way up her big, meaty thighs.

God, you wish the two of you were working on submission holds again.

You dart in, minding your steps and pulling an arm back. Rebecca pulls her striped thigh away, but isn't ready when you juke. She over-corrects, almost stepping on your foot as she tries to change direction.

"Ha!" you say, slipping to her flank, "Got --"

The last thing you see are the curved stripes of her hips. The world becomes a green-blue blur before going black. Her voice cuts through the ringing in your ears seconds later.

"Anon! ...Damn it, Anon!"

You see little white stars in the growing blur; you hear yourself groan. Your body returns to you, worn and achy.

"Anon, are you okay?"

Rebecca's face comes into focus as she leans over you. Her green eyes stand out in the interplay of orange, white, and black fur.

God, she's beautiful.

You reach up and tap a striped cheek.

"Got you," you say. She's not amused.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" she asks, sticking a paw in your face; you give her a high-five.

"Anon," she says in her teacher-voice, "how many fingers?"

"Three Ms. Anonerson."

Rebecca relaxes a little, looking away with a sigh. You move to get up when she pulls back -- only for her to sling you over her shoulder.

"Hey, no fair!" you say. "We were sparring! No holds!"

"I told you I didn't want to," she replies, ignoring your squirming and half-hearted back-blows.

"I'm fine," you say. "Put me down and we can keep going!"

Rebecca doesn't respond and carries you inside.

"Really, Rebecca, I'm okay, we --"

"Shush," she says, tossing you in bed. Your head spins as you bounce to a stop, the little stars returning. You barely notice her slip beside you, lying on her side.

"Rebecca --"

"No," she says, pulling your head to her stomach. "You're resting now."

Her grip softens, and you feel a paw slip down to your back. You are banged up, and it still feels a little like you're on a boat or a carnival ride. Maybe you should just rest.

"We're not doing any more."

You try to speak, pushing against her soft stomach and turning your head. The tigress just pulls your face tighter to her floral-scented fur.

"No, Anon, no arguing. We're not doing anymore. That's -- AH!"

Tickling her muffin-top always works.

You don't slip away, but your face is free of her fluff enough to speak.

"I'm sorry, Rebecca!"

She still pulls your face back into her belly, but her hold softens with a sigh. You arc your arms up, stroking her sides.

"We can go slower next time," you say into her fur. "Just please, don't give it up."

The tigress is quiet. She kneads at your shoulders; it helps the aches a little.

"Okay," she finally says. "But we're done for the day."

You huff, going slack in her arms; little stars dot the comforting dark. You drift off in her floral scent like you have many times before.

But the sight when you wake is new. You're laying on your stomach, a soft, warm body beneath yours. Striped curves stretch as far as the eye can see, your head resting in the valley of two huge cheeks. Very familiar, very large cheeks.

You try pushing yourself up from Rebecca's plush posterior, but your wrists are bound in her waistband. The thong is thin but strong. It has to be, given her curves.

"Awake, Anon?" the tigress asks, looking over her shoulder and flicking tail. She spreads her thighs beneath you, tilting your face out of her ass.

"Rebecca, what are you doing?"

"I thought I'd give you somewhere nice and soft to rest," she says. Your whole body shifts as she rocks her hips; you suppress a moan.

"You like it?"

"You know I do."

"Good," she says. "Start kissing it."

That sets you on edge.

"W-what?" you ask. Rebecca snorts, turning away.

"I told you you'd be in trouble if you got hurt," she says, swaying her hips gently. "I let you rest. Now it's time for your punishment."

You look up at her furry mane, turning the soft syllables over in your head. She's 'punished' you before, but you weren't expecting it now. Evidently she's not terribly upset over what happened -- that or she cuddled with you a bit. It's her favorite thing to do, after all.

"Hey."

Rebecca pops her hips, and you feel like you've been strapped to a bounce-house.

"Do I need to roll over?" she rumbles, voice huskier than usual.

"Yes."

She laughs at your eager tone, closing her thighs up beneath you. It's not a coincidence your dick ends up between her calves.

"No, I probably shouldn't," the tigress says, tail swaying. "You might like that. Now kiss."

The groan you let out drips with false reluctance. You relax into her, letting your face slip into the valley of white fur. You grip her hips and press your face deeper as you inhale; her scent is strong and familiar. The tigress twitches when you spread her cheeks with your elbows and nuzzle in. Kissing all the way down makes her shudder.

"You're doing the whole thing, you know," the tigress says, a slight tremor to her voice. "Not just down there."

Your reply of "dessert first" is muffled, but still elicits a groan. The chirp that comes after is a stark contrast. Rebecca pushes back against you before regaining control, letting you kiss her depths at your leisure. You still feel shudders of pleasure with each one you plant. Stifled huffs sync up with your breaths, the warm sensation tickling her. You make sure to breathe deep.

Rebecca has enough when you blow on her hole; the squeak she lets out is worth it.

"O-okay, enough!" she says, reaching back and trying to find your head. "I said kiss it, not tease me!"

You lick her, long, slow, and deep; her gasping cry is even better than the squeak.

"A-non!"

She grabs your arms and pulls you out, giving you a smoldering look over her shoulder. You smile, watching her as you peck a striped cheek. Her look doesn't falter when you give her a few more, alternating between curves. The tigress lets out a rumbling huff before turning away.

"I'm too nice to you..." she mutters.

"I love you," you say through the fat and fur. Rebecca lets out a pensive grunt, but you feel her pressing back against your lips. She shudders when you nuzzle into her fur. You restrain yourself, only roaming the vast expanse of her striped cheeks rather than her cleft. The big tigress lets out a variety of soft noises, humming, cooing, and purring. Her tail strokes your back, swishing across your bare skin as you slowly cover her curves in kisses. She gasps whenever you nip and suck at her flesh -- then gives a warning growl.

The sound Rebecca makes when you reach her stripes is more of a whine. She's always been sensitive along them, no matter where they are.

And for good reason.

You go slow and gentle. You always do when it comes to them. She's still tense beneath you, and her breathing picks up in pace. Carefully, you disentangle your hands from her waistband and start stroking her butt, gentle and firm.

"Shh," you whisper. "It's okay, Rebecca. It's okay."

She swallows, nodding. You wait for her breathing to slow before going on, kissing the rest of the dark stripes. Any other time, you'd be squeezing her thick cheeks without a care in the world. But this isn't about you. Neither was the sparring.

It's about Rebecca.

When your task is finished, you hug her ass as best you can manage. She sighs as you sink into her plush padding, humming when your lips tickle her lower back.

"That's everything," you whisper. "You want more?"

"You've done quite enough," she huffs. "Come here."

You crawl up beside her as she turns over. The tigress pulls you into a tight embrace, rubbing her whisker against your hair. You stroke her side, and she purrs quietly.

"You learn your lesson?" she asks, voice teasing and light.

"No?"

You yelp when she nips your ear.

"I already said I was sorry!"

"Just wanted to make sure," Rebecca says; she pecks the top of your head before settling in. Her warm breath on your scalp makes you shiver. So does her soft chuckle as she holds you closer. The two of you relax for a while -- then you poke her again.

"So we're going to spar again now, right?"

The tigress groans, ruffling your hair.

"You're exhausting, Anon."

"I hope not. We haven't even started yet."

Rebecca growls, rolling on top of you.

"What if I just sat on you?" she asks, ignoring your squirming. "How's that for a submission hold?"

She lets you flounder beneath her a few moments before lifting up, just enough for you to speak.

"I -- prefer -- bear-hugs --"

The tigress stiffens, then lets out a deep coo. She rolls back off you, but the hug she wraps you in is just as crushing.

"I love you, Anon," she sighs.

You start seeing stars again.

"Mm-mmm..." you reply, drifting off.