FSE

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It was a late-November night, Thanksgiving Eve, the air calm and cold, the would-be crescent moon obscured by a thick, overcast sky. No snow or freezing rain, but you could see your breath.

Winter palpably lurked.

It was just around the corner.

And so was Kody and Ketchy's house.

Flipping high beams to low, Field slowed the car, stopping at their mailbox. It was on the passenger side, so Adelaide lowered her window and reached out to open it.

"Yyyoink!" the bat went, clasping the envelopes with her elongated thumb and pulling them into the car. "Ha! Another successful mail heist."

"Is it a heist if they're asking us to do it?" Field posed evenly.

The gold-and-cream harvest mouse, warm and wholesome as the ripened summer wheat, gripped the steering wheel, looking down the road. No one was coming. No hurry.

He had a toboggan hat on his head, secured between his rounded, dishy ears, and a thermal sock covered the length of his tail.

(As Fib the Morning Mouse had declared on the news this morning, 'Hashtag tailsockweather!')

"Ah, but none of their neighbors knows they're gone," Adelaide said. "They just see strangers taking their mail."

"How do you know?"

"Stands to reason. If they knew Kody and Ketchy would be out of town, they'd be getting their mail, not us."

"Maybe they're out of town, too."

"Hmm. Touche," Adelaide acknowledged. "But if the neighbors are home and look out their window and see us? They'll think 'oh ho, what's going on here. A heist'?"

"Hmm ... "

"I'd think it was a heist."

"You also read an endless stream of whodunnits," Field reminded with an eyeroll.

"They're not 'whodunnits'," the bat corrected, sitting up straight. "They're 'cozy mysteries'."

Adelaide devoured her 'cozies,' which were crime novels set in small, quirky communities. The protagonist was normally an amateur sleuth whose day job was a baker or something equally whimsical, leading to obligatorily punny titles like 'Licence to Dill,' 'Vanilla Beaned,' and 'Sugar Plum Poisoned.'

"What's the one you're reading right now?" Field asked.

"Oh, it's a good one! 'Strawberried Alive'."

The mouse giggled.

"The Cupcake Crew is shot at, and--"

"Cupcake Crew?" Field interrupted, stifling more giggles.

"Yeah. Someone shoots at them in the dark, but they miss. Luckily! It appears someone has had enough of their constant sleuthing. They begin to suspect it's one of the town's restaurant owners, jealous of the publicity their bakery gets from their exploits. It's a race against time to prevent anyone from being 'berried'."

"So, you might say it's a 'who-donut," Field quipped.

Adelaide laughed. "See, you're getting it now. You should read them with me!"

"When do I have time to read?" Between farmwork, gardening, all the sports he followed, the TV shows he watched. "Why don't they make movies of these things? I'd watch if they were movies."

"They'd lose something in the translation," Adelaide insisted seriously.

Field finally pulled the car into the driveway.

"You have their house key, right?" Adelaide asked.

"Yes, I double checked."

"You forgot it last night."

The mouse scrunched his face, unable to come up with an excuse.

Their best friends, Kody and Ketchy, a hunky, Himalayan rabbit and a manic fox squirrel (Adelaide's co-worker at the library), were down in Southern Indiana for Thanksgiving week. Staying with Kody's side of the family.

Field and Adelaide, meanwhile, were having Thanksgiving at Field's parents' farm, which was nearby.

Being gone for the week, their friends had conscripted Field and Adelaide to get their mail and move their packages off the front porch, et cetera, until they got back.

Their one-story abode was just outside the small town of Sheridan. Population: 3,000. 'City limits' were just down the street. Field and Adelaide lived five miles away, out in the countryside.

Field parked the car and turned it off.

"We'll need code names," Adelaide continued.

"For what?" Field asked, removing his seatbelt.

"Heist-ing."

"Oh. Well." He thought for a moment. "Yours is easy. 'Wingz'." He paused to add, "With a Z to give you an edge."

Adelaide snerked. "Wingz? What's that make you? Squeakz?"

"Nah, something like ... um. Mm. Well, I don't know." His whiskers twitched as he got out of the car. "But mice are stealthy, so maybe ... 'The Silencer."

"Stealthy, huh?"

"Everybody knows! Quiet, soft of step. No one hears us coming."

Adelaide smirked but said nothing. Too easy. She got out of the car and followed her mate. Her unique fur stood out even in the dark.

Adelaide's father was a white-and-pink 'ghost bat' from Australia, and her mother was a 'red bat' from Indiana. Born in Australia with dual citizenship, her fur was a vivid two-tone pink. Hot, darker pink, and paler pink on her frontside (and her wing membranes).

Walking up to the front porch, Field saw a bunch of boxes. "Dang ... what are all these?! Are they getting Christmas presents already?"

"Maybe. Rabbits tend to have large extended families," Adelaide remarked. "And isn't Kody's loaded?"

"His parents are lawyers, yeah," Field confirmed, squinting at the boxes to see where they were from. "He's the odd one out." A bit of a 'himbo' (okay, more than a bit) the hunky, good-natured Kody was an electrician and general handyman. Very skilled with his paws ...

Adelaide, still clutching the envelopes from the mailbox, flipped through them. Bills, mostly. She looked up. "You have a prehensile tail."

"And?"

"That's gotta play into your code name!" she explained.

"Oh."

"'The Snaky Tail'."

"Am I a saloon?" Field asked.

"How 'bout 'The Tail Bandit'? Or, by your logic, 'T Banditz'."

"I'm not a possum," he mumbled, tail-socked tail swerving about as he went for the front door. His tail sock today was navy blue.

In the dark, he fumbled with the door key. Finally getting it in, he turned it, then grabbed the knob and pushed it open.

Field picked up the packages and started stacking them inside the house.

Adelaide, not having proper paws to pick up anything too heavy, followed him in, shutting the door once he'd gotten everything moved. She then turned on some lights.

"Do we have to sort all this?" Field asked, blowing on his paws for warmth. "I want to get home in time for the game."

"What game?" Adelaide asked.

"Uh, the game? My team? Butler? Basketball? Why do you think I wore my navy-blue tail-sock?"

"Cause it draws attention to your ass."

The mouse blushed, looking over his shoulder. Did it? "No! It's school colors." His whiskers twitched, looking back to her. "They're in one of the holiday tourneys. It's 'Feast Week' games."

"Always some kind of special week. I can't keep track! Are they favored to win?"

" ... anything can happen," was his non-committal reply. The team hadn't made the post-season in four years. But maybe this was the year it turned around, and it could start tonight! "Kody would understand ... "

"Well, your boyfriend isn't here to talk sportsball. Why don't you text him?"

"He's not my boyfriend, obviously," Field defended. "And he's probably busy." He had a crush on the rabbit. Physically, anyway. Something he was perpetually self-conscious about. "I also like racing," he pointed out smartly. "There's no balls in racing."

"Takes balls to do it, though," Adelaide immediately countered.

Field opened his mouth, then shut it.

"Anyway, let's get to it! Wingz and T Banditz can't just leave mail lying around in loose piles. We have reputations to protect!" Adelaide said. "It'll only take a few minutes. Besides, we don't even have the TV station it's on, right? At home? Your game? You always listen on the radio."

"Yeah ... "

"Stream the audio call on your phone."

"It's almost the end of the month. I don't want to use up our data," Field said, moving everything into the kitchen for proper sorting.

"You know," Adelaide said, voice taking on a slight singsong tone, "Ketchy told me they got a brand new 4K TV. You could actually watch the game here."

"What channels do they get?" A pause. "Wait, that TV in the living room?" Field asked, looking around the corner. "They've had that for years. It's regular HD."

"Nah, in the bedroom."

"Huh?"

"That's what she told me."

"Who puts a 4K TV in their bedroom?" Field asked, furrowing his golden brow. "There's no good reason to--" The mouse stopped short and gasped, blue eyes widening. His voice became a whisper as he asked, "Do ... do they make porn in 4K?"

"What do _you_think?" Adelaide asked slyly.

"I don't know! That's why I'm asking you."

"I mean, duh. They totally make porn in 4K." The bat skipped a beat. "Porn people, that is. Not Kody and Ketchy!" Adelaide tilted her head. "Though now that you mention it ... nahh ... no, I don't think they have a camera for it." A pause. "Unlessss," she drawled. " ... phones can film in 4K, now? Right?"

"Oh, my gosh." Field put his paws on his cheeks, rubbing at them in a mousey fashion. "I meant do they watch it in there, not 'do they make it'."

"Still. We should search online to be sure they aren't making amateur porn," the bat decided sagely.

"S-should we?" Field stammered.

"We've all seen each other naked. Mostly," Adelaide reminded. The four friends had indulged in group sex before.

"Yeah, but ... "

"Relax, Field. They probably aren't making homemade porn. For one, Ketchy would've told me. She can't keep a secret to save her life."

Flushed, the mouse took his phone out of his pocket.

"You gonna check?" Adelaide asked, eyes gleaming mischievously.

"I'm checking the score," he clarified.

The game had started, and he opened a sports app to see the box score. He sighed. Already down 12 to 5, four minutes in. Guh! He closed the app and put the phone away.

"Wouldn't you_love_ to see the game on that thing?"

"Depends on who's winning," the mouse insisted.

"It's early, they can come back! And think of how exciting it would be to watch it. It'd almost be like being there! I bet they have a sound bar, too."

"They do?"

"I mean, they_could_."

"I can't lay down when I'm watching a big game," Field said, continuing to make excuses. "How can I pace with nervousness when I'm on my back?"

"There are plenty of ways to relieve anxiety while on your back." Done sorting the mail and packages, she sauntered toward (and then past) him, giving him a purposeful hip-check.

Squeak!

Adelaide looked over her shoulder, snaking her long, wily tongue past her sharp, pearly fangs, giving him a playful raspberry.

The mouse swallowed and timidly followed her. "Where are you ... are you actually going into their bedroom?" he asked.

"I said we should!"

"Yeah, but--"

"Why? Do you think they booby-trapped it? Maybe it's haunted!" Adelaide teased, opening the bedroom door. "Oooooooh," she went, mimicking a ghost. Like a shadow, she disappeared inside.

"Adelaide! Come back!" Field swallowed, heart hammering in his cream-colored chest beneath his hoodie.

No response.

She was going to make him follow her.

Wasn't she?

Well ...

What if he didn't?

What if he stayed right here in the hallway and didn't play along?

He crossed his arms defiantly.

Whiskers twitched.

Yeah, right.

Adelaide was, well ... an exhibitionist.

It was maybe her top kink. She loved having sex away from home. Outdoors, at work. Here at Ketchy's house. They'd done it in this very kitchen over the summer!

Just as much, though, she loved seducing meek, mild-mannered Field into wildly participating. Getting him to lose control over her? That doubled her thrill.

They hadn't been caught.

Yet.

That they _knew_of.

"Mmm," Field whimpered, arms uncrossing.

Captive to the lure of bat pussy, he peeked into Kody and Ketchy's bedroom. Adelaide, having turned on the bedside lamp, was already sprawled out atop the purple sheets, on her back, wing-arms open. Like a neon pink angel in glorious repose.

"Y-you ... you shouldn't lay on there," he said, trying not to huff. She looked so hot when she was 'spread eagle.'

"Why?" she countered, arching her body, pushing her covered breasts into the air. "It's comfy! Memory foam. Come on." She folded her wing-arms around her middle, a pink batty burrito, and scooted over to make room for him. "Remote's on your side."

Field came in, took a seat on the edge of the mattress, and grabbed the remote.

Adelaide reached for his tail-base with her big, opposable thumb, removing his tail-sock in a slow, suggestive way, like taking off a condom.

Letting her do it, he turned the TV on, noticing there was a gaming console on the floor beneath it.

Last time Field and Adelaide had 'gamed' with the rabbit and squirrel, those two had started making out. Which led to ... well. He wondered what game was in the console, now? Had to be something that got the blood pumping.

"Field?"

"I'm looking. I'm looking." He scrolled through the channels. After a moment, he shook his head and told her he said, "They have the same channels we do. Just the 'broadcast' stations."

He sighed. Probably for the best. He was almost afraid to see what the score was now. They were playing a Top 10 team, but still ... could they at least be competitive?

"Aw," Adelaide said, tossing his tail-sock to the carpet and shifting onto her side before pulling the mouse onto his back. "That's too bad."

Field stared at the ceiling and then looked to her. He smiled lightly. "Yeah, you sound _real_disappointed, there."

"Heartbroken."

Their eyes locked. Sky blue to plum purple.

"Hey, mousey," she said softly.

"Mm?"

"I think Wingz and Tail Banditz should undertake their most daring heist yet."

"What kind of heist?"

"A _bedroom_heist," she replied softly, rubbing her wingtip up and down his body.

"Haven't you ever seen a heist movie? We'll leave shed fur all over the place. Pink and gold? Can't pass that off as theirs."

"They're not gonna be back 'til Sunday evening. It's only Wednesday. We have plenty of time to change the shee-- ... I mean, 'hide the evidence' from the 'authorities.' Mmm." She moved her wingtip from his side to his chest, then slid it down toward his belly. "Or maybe we should let them catch us? Get 'interrogated,' only to turn the tables." She paused to clarify, "Sexy tables."

"You're getting carried away, again."

"Am I?"

"Yes."

She inched forward, muzzle practically in his earlobe as she whispered, "They really wouldn't know, mousey. If we did anything." She blew a hot, strategic breath right into his earhole, slow and gentle. "I promise."

"Ah. Ah!" Field panted. Mouse ears were erogenous, and she'd had a lot of experience with them.

"What was that?" she murmured.

Eventually, he managed to stammer a proper reply. More an echo, really. "A-anything ... ?"

"Mmhmm. Anything," she insisted, swirling her wily tongue all over his ear before pulling back to nibble on the rim. His lobes were giving off so much heat. She could almost feel them throbbing.

He squeaked, putty in her paws.

While she gave him ear-sex, her thumb was undoing his belt. Unbuttoning his pants. Pulling the zipper down. Not slowly, either, but in a clumsy, hurried away.

Field remembered all the logical objections he'd had a few minutes ago, but as she pulled his boxer-briefs down and hooked her thumb around his surging penis, her thumb dragging directly across the tip ... well ... his priorities suddenly changed.

Adelaide started pumping that thick shaft, making sure to rub the back of the glans with each stroke, using his own pre to lubricate the pumps.

Squeak!

His fleshy tail whipped, flailing to the side, his jeans bunched up at his shins. Hoodie and t-shirt remained on his body, and they were going to stay.

The bat told him as much as she slid her own pants down her hips, kicking, shimmying. She'd need to take hers completely off for what she had in mind. She succeeded, and they went flying. Panties, too. Somewhere. Didn't matter.

"Isn't it hot?" she cooed, pulling back from his ear. The thin, delicate flesh on his lobes was deep pink, capillaries showing all over. "On our best friends' bed? Spontaneous, half-dressed, in the dark of night? Feral passion ... untamed, impatient pleasure?"

Field responded with a huff as she swung a leg over his hips, pushing her wingtips against his chest and rising into a cowgirl-style riding position, a clear, visual reminder of who was in charge here.

"Oh ... oh, gosh," he moaned, every submissive button in his body being pushed. And there were a lot of them.

"That's it, mousey." The bat licked her fangs. "Thaaat's it ... mm, there's a good boy. Let it happen," she breathed, reaching beneath her rump to grip his cock again.

Field shivered at her words, horny and helpless.

Adelaide lifted, maneuvered about, and finally got his tip pointed in the right direction. Her stubby tail flicked, and she lowered down. "Want you. Need_you. _Now," she said, growling it.

Field didn't object, head rolling aside as her wet, hot pussy descended upon him, swallowing his shaft. She didn't stop until her petals were snug to his tight, fuzzy balls. Full hilt.

At first, she just gyrated around, left to right, around, around, letting him get a feel of her, letting him think about it.

And he _was_thinking about it.

Nothing else mattered.

He almost forgot whose bedroom they were in. Kody and Ketchy's scents still lingered, even though they'd been absent for days. But his and Adelaide's were gradually displacing them.

Add air freshener to the list.

Field's fingers bunched up the bedsheets, maw falling open.

Adelaide, done with her teasing, lost patience and started to bounce. Not gently, either. No, her rump was jiggling against his thighs each time she came down. Which was once a second already, maybe faster than that. A bubble gum blur.

Bounce-bounce-bounce!

"Uhh!" Field moaned, muzzle pointing upward again. Through half-open eyes, he watched her move, breasts bouncing beneath her shirt, wing-arms lifting, stretching out in ecstasy.

Bounce!

Flap-flap!

Bounce-bounce!

He grabbed at her, clutching to her hips, helping her out, guiding her, even trying to buck back up against her. Or trying to. He didn't have much leverage, though, especially on a memory foam mattress.

She helped him out by leaning forward, laying atop him, resting her loins atop of his.

This allowed him to help out, to motor into her from beneath. Short, jackhammer thrusts. From this angle, he got in deep.

Slap-slap-slap!

Wet genitals squelched as they fused and re-fused.

"Yes ... yyess, yes! Oh, oh, don't stop!" she cried.

Field obeyed, not letting up, not for a second. He didn't want to stop. Ever! But nature was about to deprive him of the choice. More and more excited, so stiff, so sensitive and slick. His cock began to tingle. Like his ears had, but ... oh, better. Better, better. Best!

High-pitched noises, squeaks and chitters!

Incoherent moans.

Sloppy, hurried humps, frantic, desperate.

And then--

"Ah, ha ... ahh ... AHH!" He lost his breath for a second. "Addie!" he gasped, using her nickname. Some people (like Ketchy) called her 'Addie' all the time, but Field rarely did.

Except in moments like this, when it just slipped out.

That's how Adelaide knew it was good for him.

His shaft jerked and jolted, shooting his seed into her sex. Spurt after spurt, flooding her completely. Such bliss! Electric, transcendent. That anything could feel like this! He gurgled and whimpered, seeing stars, hugging her warm, winged body to his, paws all over her back, rubbing that soft, pink fur.

"Give it to me ... alllll of it. Yes, yessss ... "

Just knowing she'd gotten him off, knowing how wild he was for her, and being in their best friends' bed? That would've been enough to topple the confident, dominant bat. But ...

Throw in those hefty, white balls, that throbbing cock filling her like a slick, gleaming piston, and her wingtip furiously rubbing at her clit?

Oh, yeah.

She was a goner.

Adelaide's sex spasmed.

Lightly, at first, and then with a vice-like intensity. If orgasms were on the Richter scale, hers would've been off the charts. Fierce, furious. Whole-body. Head to toe, wing to wing. She moaned. Screamed, even.

"OH! Mouseyyyyy!"

The bat let loose a series of involuntary echo-bursts, super high-pitched soundwaves which 'pinged' against every surface of the room before returning to her ears, giving her an almost supernatural orgasmic experience as her brain translated those sounds into images.

She 'saw' her and Field from above, behind, from all corners of the room.

Writhing in their passionate union.

A perfect pair.

"Fuuck," she blurted, tongue out, drooling onto his shoulder.

Dizzy and dazed, the mouse hugged her dearly from beneath, closing his eyes to hide the fact they were watering.

Adelaide huffed for air for a while, stroking him, soothing him. "It's okay ... I got you."

"I love you," he finally whispered, heart recovering from the exertion, but unable to recover from the emotion. Their 18th-year anniversary was in January, and he couldn't imagine anyone else bringing him to these heights. He couldn't imagine life without her.

"I love you, too," she cooed. "Though you weren't as silent and stealthy as you claimed." She touched her nose to his. "The Silencer? More like The Squeaker."

"Who's fault was that?"

The bat giggled.

As the fog of lust fully faded for the lighter haze of afterglow, they became more aware of the aftermath of their actions.

"We, uh ... gosh, we shed everywhere," the mouse realized.

"And leaked," Adelaide added.

"Might need a vacuum. And a mop," he added jokingly.

But they had time to clean up.

"Sunday, right?" Field asked.

"Yup."

Adelaide dismounted and flopped lazily at his side, little white streams trickling down her thighs, courtesy of the mouse. She ogled Field's pert, ropy-tailed ass as he crawled to the foot of the bed to fetch his phone from his pants, which he'd kicked off at some point.

Adelaide briefly reaching out with a wingtip to 'goose' him.

Eek!

On all fours, he looked over his shoulder and flashed a shy smile. "Heyyy ... "

"What?" she asked, feigning innocence.

Returning to lay beside her, his wet, shrinking erection giving the occasional twitch, he tap-ta-tapped at his phone. Checking the score. "Wow, it's tied at half! Mm. Maybe they can win this after all."

"Good!"

Field put his phone down. "So, we pulled off the heist?" he asked, hooking an arm around her middle.

"Teamwork makes the dream work," she insisted with a bright, satisfied smile. "You might just make the Cupcake Crew yet!"

"Oh, boy," the mouse replied.

Adelaide giggled again and kissed him.

He melted into it.

A deep, passionate kiss. Wet and twisting, with her tongue swirling into his maw. And a big, satisfying smack when they pulled apart.

The icing on the cake.

And what was Thanksgiving without a little (or a lot) of dessert?