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"Uh... Reb? I don't think there's room..."

The tigress sighs. Her house has been a mess since you moved in. You've kept your mini-museum compact through the years, but you're still trying to move almost an apartment's worth of stuff into an already-furnished house. Even if it's sized for someone twice as big as you, there's gonna be some overflow. Rebecca looks at the storage closet you've thoroughly Tetris'd up. It's not accessible by any means, and you doubt it's going to stay this way for long. But navigating around the boxes in the living room and the hallways has just become too much.

"Well, lets try to stack the piles we still have up," she says. "I'll make sure they stay steady."

"Rebecca..."

She looks down at you, her ears flattening.

"No, Anon."

She's learned to read you really quick.

"Rebecca, Aki and Talia helped move everything out of there," you say, following her to the living room. "*Talia* helped."

The tigress sits on the couch and draws her legs up to her chest. She doesn't like to talk about the bedroom. Not the one the two of you have been sharing for the last few weeks, but the one that she'd blocked off long before you arrived. She hid it well behind a stand filled with houseplants, and you didn't notice it until you brought up a lack of space. She pushed the greenery aside for you, but wouldn't go past the threshold. She didn't even want to look at the door. You had to call friends over to try and move the gargantuan furniture and boxes; you made sure the tigress was out of the house when the old crib was taken out.

You sigh, and head to the kitchen. You almost call for Rebecca out of habit, but climb onto the counter yourself with a groan. It's taken a little bit to get used to the size of the facilities, but you've managed. It's taken a while for the tigress to get used to you stubbornly climbing around when she's not there to lift you up. A pair of mugs catch your eye when you go into the cabinet, one with an M-14 on it and the other with a Mini-14. You roll your eyes, and grab the larger one with the battle rifle.

You'd used Aki's 'housewarming gifts' plenty of times. You'd told her you didn't need them, but the cheetah was over often enough that she insisted. Her laid-back nature seemed to soothe Reb, and you didn't mind having another weapons nerd to talk with -- even if she harassed you about getting something modern. A cynical part of you figured the college student was over for the free food and leftovers Rebecca constantly shoved her way. The cheetah certainly didn't complain when that was her payment for helping move the things from the old bedroom.

A grunt bubbles in your throat. You grab a teabag while waiting for the water to heat up. That particular moment was the first time you'd had Talia over. The two of you had seen her plenty of times at the range, but there were always distractions there. You had guns to shoot, and she had a Fed to fantasize about shooting. Patricia's presence still made the she-wolf's hackles rise, even if she was doing her job now. The gang of yeens seemed to be growing, whether from new members or prospective clients, you weren't sure. It was one of the topics that'd come up -- and one of the few that Talia would open up and vent about.

Steam wafts up from the pitcher. You pour it into the tigress' big cup and watch the liquid turn amber. Talia was slowly getting better, just like Rebecca. Just like you, maybe. The fact all three of you bumped shoulders at Lyons' office probably helped. He'd given you good advice for your countersuits. The case-building for Talia's seemed to be going well, from what he told you when he brought you and Rebecca in for an interview. Even though the idea of stepping foot in the Municipal building again makes your stomach turn, you're glad he did. It meant you met Laura.

Met her for the second time, really. You've spotted her at the range now and again -- the cougar was there the day you tested your Kolibri. You're not sure if it's that, Lyons' recommendation, or her clear taste in younger dudes that made her agree to help you with a countersuit. She might be lusty, but you've made the boundaries clear; Rebecca's been with you at every meeting.

It's made asking the cougar about a second countersuit for Rebecca difficult.

You mull over the idea for the hundredth time as you wait for the chamomile to steep, looking out at the tigress. She's still on the couch, head on her knees. You brought up the idea to her once. She froze up, hasty excuses that she didn't believe coming out. She's right that trying to take on the State, especially trying to take on the CMMS system, is risky. Maybe even futile. But looking at her now, frozen up on the couch, you feel like you have to do *something*. Get her some justice.

You settle for tea for now. Rebecca shifts wordlessly as you approach; you set the extra-large mug up on the side table before scrambling onto the couch. You've gotten used to the extra exercise -- getting down safely is usually more trouble than getting up. You barely get upright before the tigress has laid back with a soft groan, pinning you in place with her head in your lap. She closes her eyes as you stroke her fur, getting her mane and chin.

"Your tea is gonna get cold," you muse.

The tigress grunts, pressing the side of her face into your chest. You take your cue and hug her head. Her grunts draw out in length as you rub her fur, and the chuff she lets out blows your hair back. Her eyes stay closed as a hand drifts down to her shoulders. Her muscles are taunt; she leans into your touch when you work over her neck.

"You want to get up now?" you ask when she sighs. The tigress lets out a soft grumble.

"Kiss me."

You lean down and peck her nose, watching it twitch as her eyes flutter open. They narrow as a cute, angry smile spreads across her face. She gives you a light growl.

"What, you want another?" you say. "That's gonna cost you..."

Rebecca shifts on top of you, her growl turning to a purr. She looms over you and presses your back into the arm of the couch, her stomach pinning your lower half. Your member pokes into it when her arms box you in, squeezing her sweater-bound bust above you. Her long mane cascades along the vast, red curve as she looks down at you with bedroom eyes. You brace yourself for the incoming pillow drop -- but the tigress only shifts against you to grab her tea from the sidetable. She slips an arm beneath you and lays against you in a half-hug, taking a drink while laying her head against your chest.

"You're so cruel..." you say, reaching down to hold her free hand. Rebecca rumbles against you, wrapping her huge paw around yours.

"I heard back from the principal," she says, sighing as you stroke her hair. "The position doesn't start until school does."

"No training?"

"Of course there is. It's just not paid."

You groan.

"How bad is it?"

"Wouldn't know. I'm not the school librarian," she says, shifting tighter against you. "But I know the general training takes at least a week."

The tigress coos when you groan louder.

"This wouldn't have happened if you took your perfect job," she says. You grunt.

"It wouldn't *be* my perfect job, Rebecca."

"Anon, you told me all about how the fox woman wanted you to inventory all the old pre-State items in the museum."

She glances up at you while sipping her tea.

"It sounded like it would've been perfect."

"Yeah, but that was before I met *you*," you say, tapping her nose. Her ears curl as she lets out a soft growl.

"You shouldn't have told that fox you were getting another library job... You would have loved it there!"

"Not as much as I'll love getting to see you just a little more each day," you say. "Plus, it's a State job. Extra benefits."

The tigress grumbles and finishes her tea. "Isn't the museum also State-run?"

"...Yeah, but still."

Rebecca sighs. She sets the mug down and grabs you by the shoulder, pulling you down on the couch. Her chest presses down on yours like an extra-large weighted blanket. She hugs you under the arms; you hug her neck as she goes still, her head half-way against yours. Her hair cascades over your face, blessing every breath with a hint of her scent. Your voice is slightly strained from her weight when you speak.

"School librarian is also more of a... innocent job. Draws less attention, less of a minefield than preserving the past."

Rebecca gives you a neutral grunt.

"Plus, who knows. Jennifer could be one of those conservators that wants to twist the narratives. Play up human suffering and conflict before the Commission."

Now the tigress groans. She pulls back from the hug to loom over you -- she has to brush the hair from your face to give you her glare.

"That's enough of that," she says. "I don't want to debate right now."

You reach up with a groan, dragging your hands over the long curves of her sweater before working the base of her neck.

"What *do* you want to do right now, Rebecca?"

Her expression softens into a smile. She traces a huge digit around your face, along your hairline and cheekbones.

"There are a few things..."

"Could I make a suggestion?"

The tigress hums, rubbing the underside of your chin.

"You may," she says when you give her a soft groan.

"Let me get the sheets out for the other bed."

Her claw pokes against your skin as she stiffens. You move down and stroke her arm before she completely recovers.

"Anon..."

"I'll get it ready, Rebecca. I'll get the sheets on, bring out the candles you like, pull out one of the record players from my stuff. You won't have to go in there until it's already set up."

"Anon, I -- I don't --"

"We can reclaim it, Rebecca. Make it new."

You reach up and stroke her cheek; her look of apprehension stays, but she presses into your hand.

"We would have so much more room. We could sleep together without worrying about falling off the bed."

A brief smile crosses her face.

"I-I thought you liked cuddling..." she says.

"I love cuddling," you whisper, squeezing her thick fluff. "But this way, I might not die if you roll over too far and squish me on the floor."

Her ears flatten as she lets out a soft groan. You pull her down gently, letting her press her forehead to yours.

"We don't have to," you say. "I -- I just thought since we got so close last time... It might make it even more meaningful for you."

Rebecca is quiet, barely breathing against you. She pulls up after a few moments and looks down at you wordlessly; the kiss she gives you is gentle and long.

"I -- I'll try."

...

Rebecca almost crushes your hand at the doorway.

You took your time setting up the room for her while she made dinner. Fighting the parachute-like sheets alone took a half-hour. You actually pushed a few of the boxes back in there to better perch the mood candles, filling the air with ambiance and the smell of peaches. But even the old Johnny Bristol record spinning on the player can't wash away the old memories. Not completely. You look up at her, the warm light coloring her cream curves something closer to orange; the two of you had played a bit on the couch when dinner was done. The tigress usually grew more bold as the teasing and touching went on. Being nude in the living room added spice to it, too. That's how she'd become comfortable with you around her snatch. More than before, anyway. You could rub and taste her there mostly without issue, but mounting still filled her with dread.

Hopefully, tonight it'll change.

"Rebecca?" you ask, stroking her squeezing paw. "Are you okay?"

The tigress' green eyes don't leave the bed. They're tiny, glinting in the light.

"We don't have to, Reb."

The tigress stays a statue.

You sigh, stroking her hand as you pull back.

"It's okay, honey. We got to the doorway. One step at a --"

"N-no."

The tigress presses your hand into her pillowy thigh. Her chest heaves; she's still staring at the bed.

"W-we're d-d-doing it t-tonight."

"Rebecca..."

Her footpaws, normally silent, scrape over the carpet. You grunt when she starts to lose her balance, throwing your weight into keeping her steady. The tigress is still wobbly when she's back on two feet -- and not just her curves.

"Okay. Okay, slow down," you say when her gaze darts down to try again. "We'll do it, Rebecca. I know you want to, but let's slow down."

Her chest heaves from another seizing breath, this time followed by a gulp. She nods slowly and shakily. You reach up and stroke her arm, careful to run across her stripes rather than along.

"I-I -- I want --"

A low whine escapes her; her ears flatten and her whole body goes tense.

"I'm here, Reb. I'm right here."

"I want it to stop!"

Tears glitter. The words sink into your chest as deep as her rumbling sob. You fight through their weight to catch her as she sinks down to a knee, slipping from her hand and going to her front. Sweet nothings pour from your lips as you try to soothe the trembling tiger. Her forehead presses to yours, and you stroke her hair, her fur, her ears. It takes a few moments for her arms to gently wrap around you and pull you close.

"Please..." she croaks. Her words break into thin whines and deep, shuddering inhales.

"Reb, look at me," you say, stroking along her jawline. "I'm right here, Rebecca."

You catch a glint of emerald in the tightly scrunched blinking.

"Good. That's it."

Her snout is wrinkled beneath your lips.

"Can you hear me?" you whisper; the tigress sniffles a little less severely, and nods.

"Good."

You take your own shaky breath.

"It's not going to go away, Rebecca. It's always going to be there. But you are -- *so* strong."

She shivers when you run your hands over her arms.

"It's always going to be there, it's always going to leave a mark. But it doesn't change who you are. Your heart hasn't changed, I can tell."

You swallow; her eyes are open now, looking at you through tears. You're trembling just as much, praying that you're not saying the wrong things.

"I know how badly you want to do it, Rebecca. I don't think it'll happen tonight. But I know it'll happen some day because you're still you."

You shut your eyes and hug her neck tight.

"Tell me when you're ready, and we'll go to the other bedroom," you whisper, stroking her mane. "Or the couch. Wherever you want."

The tigress' breaths start to slow. Her weight sinks against you as she relaxes, and you massage the back of her neck. Soon all you feel is her fur and her heartbeat.

Its speed should've tipped you off.

You're not ready when the tigress tightens her grip and starts to rumble. She crushes you against her as the sound grows louder and your feet leave the ground. You feel her muscles beneath her curves as she moves; you scream with her when you feel her leap towards the bed. The mattress is even softer than the one you two have been using. Rebecca crashing on top of you still forces the air from your lungs, but you don't think anything cracked or ruptured.

Her rumbling scream has turned to stiff huffs and puffs as she pulls herself up on all fours. All threes -- one massive forearm keeps you braced against her as she moves to the center of the bed. You're panting into her neck-fluff, trying to slow your heart. Claws scrape sheets when she finally lets you go; the mattress lurches as she lowers again to straddle you. You're too busy fighting her curves and catching your breath to object. All you can give are groans as her weight settles on your lap, her stomach covers your chest, and her breasts roll over your face.

Her breathing is ragged now, punctuated by whimpers and grunts. You finally get to see her when she sits up; her curves bounce as she pauses to look back down at you. Her eyes are still wet and her ears are still flat. She's still panting, shuddering, tensing up. But in that second or two, her fire shines through.

Then it's obscured as she leans down again. Her hips roll against yours and her breasts sway inches above your head, just waiting to knock you out cold. Rebecca's rumbling gets growly as she straightens her legs to press herself down even harder on you. Her wet heat burns against your groin with frantic twitching, and a reflexive snarl escapes her when you reach down into the inferno. It stops when you reach up and squeeze a pillowy breast; the tigress scoops up your head and locks you there with a huge paw. She sighs as you find her nipple and suck.

She tenses again when your knuckles brush her entrance. Her groan reverberates through you as she presses down on your hand, her claws poking out just slightly in your hair. You have to slap her tit and let out muffled yells to get her to back off. Her hips buck before you're even in. The tigress lets out something resembling a chuff as you push your member up for her, feeling it slide against her folds. She leans forward only a little, but her breast still flattens your nose. Your legs twitch when your tip is finally centered, finally slipping past her wet fur and brushing against her lips. You slide your hand away and give her one tiny thrust; hers consumes you. All of her weight presses down on you, all of her fur completely covers you. Your whole world rocks in time, moving in deep waves. You're vaguely aware the sounds, muffled by the abundant fur and flesh. You're barely aware of yourself.

All you feel is her.

Her heat, her pressure.

Her tightness, her softness.

Her joy, and her sorrow.

Rebecca huffs with each thunderous, crushing drop. It's desperate and primal. You can't move as she pushes you deeper and deeper, her claws pricking into your scalp. There's no way you could thrust up into her. But you don't need to. *She* doesn't need you to. The tigress lets out a deep, rumbling groan, dragging herself across you for the chance at even a slightly better angle.

She needs control. And you're more than happy to let her have it.

You slip your arms out from under her curves and hug her midriff. The tigress shudders as your hands sink in, not quite half-way around her.

You just have to hold on.

Rebecca's ragged huffs reach you even with your head deep in her breasts. They grow louder as her strokes speed up and the tingling sensation spreads. The strain in your back worries you; you squeeze the tigress tighter.

It helps a little when you come.

Rebecca arches her back and crushes your hips with hers. The weight is so much that you can't move as she lets out a roar. You realize you could hear it in its full glory -- you can just barely breathe through her musky tit-fur, the heavy tiggies' smothering weight just barely on your face now. They bounce against you with every heaving pant. You gasp into them when her hips bounce, riding the aftershocks and trying to draw out every last bit of you. Even though they're tiny, each hits with the force of a truck. You have to push up on her enormous pillows to have a chance at catching your breath.

You're glad you did when Rebecca starts to lower with a rumbling sigh. Your sound of contentment is lost beneath her. You barely notice as she shifts above you, too lost in the warmth, the weight, the afterglow. Your body twitches as her hips rock against yours. They're not lusty or teasing movements, too small and care-free. The tigress's panting turns into purring when your hands poke out from beneath her once more. You stroke her sides, her stomach, her breasts -- wherever your meager reach allows, reveling in the way she always chuffs at the end of a stroke.

She does so more deeply when you slap at her. You almost pass out before she realizes they're not love-taps. The light-headedness makes you dizzy as she rolls the two of you to the side, the sudden flow of blood not helping. She keeps you locked against her, your hips welded to hers and your head deep in her cleavage. Careful squeezing gives you a scent-laden airway to gasp through. Her bust squeezes around you as she her breaths slow in turn. Minutes pass as you lay together, falling into a rhythm. You'd be falling asleep if it weren't for the sensations still running through you. Rebecca growls softly when you try to move, tightening her arms and legs around you.

"No."

Her voice is tired, fragile. At odds with the noises she was making in the height of the moment -- save the desperation.

"I -- You're not going anywhere."

After a moment, you laugh. It's breathless, ragged, and it barely pierces her bust. But it feels so good.

"No, Rebecca..." you slur.

You burrow deeper into her embrace.

"I'm not going anywhere..."