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I buried my muzzle into the pillow below me, muffling my moans and squeaks as he hilted himself into me. Over and over again, I felt his rock-hard cock slide deep into me, hitting every spot I never could when I used a toy on my own. I rocked my hips back into his, grinding my own hardness against the sheets below me, no doubt leaving a sticky trail that'd be a beautiful little reminder of this evening. His hips slammed into mine, again and again. I had told him not to take it easy on me, and I guess he finally listened.

Hearing him pant above me, his deep intakes of breath, spiced with the occasional "fuck" or gasp, that was what drove me wild, perhaps even more than his cock jabbing at my prostate with every thrust. I've always been a sub, deep down. Not one of those guys that only gets off when he's tied up, no, and not just a fancy term for a bottom. I truly enjoy the act of pleasuring someone else. Feeling my body tease them and touch them in ways that drive them wild. Knowing that I'm what's making this beautiful fox above me pant is more than enough. My tail curled up against my back, raising itself even a bit higher for him at the thought. It was a pointless little gesture, something I'm sure he'd never notice, but it was my body's way of submitting even harder to him, if there was such a thing.

Oh... fuck. Nothing like a hard deep thrust to knock you out of thinking too hard. That's it foxy... give it to me. Deep... just like that.

"Yes, yes, don't stop foxie..."

And there's his knot... guess he likes me talking to him like that. There he is, just relax. Breathe, let it... there it goes. Fuck. Ow. Oh... God, I don't think I'm ever going to get used to how big his knot is. There we go, squeeze him a little... Yes, speed up foxie.

"Cum for me baby. Cum for me."

That little whine he does just drives me wild. I might get off from just grinding up on these sheets. That beautiful friction almost makes up for the normal indignity of these cheap sheets. I can feel him filling me up now. That warmth spreads throughout me, his whole body collapsing on top of mine. And that... that is what gets me there. Yes... Foxie...

...

His weight on my back doesn't really bother me much. Guess that's a sign, huh? And his paws always find their ways to these sensitive little patches on my sides. He just lays here and holds me, and for the moment, this is perfect. It always has been. Ever since that first time we... I don't think I could call it making love; we didn't really love each other then, anyways... he's always just somehow known exactly how to make me feel like this. I wish I had a word for this feeling. It's a whole lot of things at once, really. Safety. Comfort. Love. Beauty. It's as if all of the dirt and grime of the big bad world out there disappears for these scant few hours, and it's just him and me. His cute little wolfy, my big strong fox.

My best friend and I always argue about whether afterglow truly is better than sex. I think it is. Lying there, having just been so incredibly intimate with someone, and just reveling in the feeling, that's perfection. I really can't do quickies. I mean, sure, I blow him before work, which is always fun (and even more fun when I get to watch him try to get dressed, still all weak-kneed), but I end up missing him, and most of all missing this feeling. My heart still pounding in my chest, his paws gently kneading at my sides, his warm breath and occasional licks matting down my neckfur... She's missing out if she doesn't have it this good. Maybe I'll have to drag her in here one day to watch. She writes gay porn, I figure the least she can do is give it a watch. Her stories would get so much more realistic if she did. I think she'd get a laugh of seeing me like this. The wolf that's always towered a good head above her tall (for a female snow leopard) frame, gently sighing into a pillow, having been thoroughly bred by his stud of a fox.

It's funny; most guys peg me for a top. Being my build, and doing my job, has a habit of giving off that impression. Hell, the first time I brought him around my friends they all gave me a look. I guess they all figured I had finally turned it around and become a top. Everyone always assumes foxes are bottoms. If only they knew how truly gifted my fox was at topping. It was like an art, pleasuring this fox, too. It didn't require much work, that's for sure, but there was always something about it that made me feel like every bit I did was crucial for his pleasure. I never felt like I was "just a bottom" with him. I was always every bit as important of a partner as he was. And he always made sure I came. Most of my exes never had the courtesy. They figured a big wolfy that wouldn't object to being used like a sex toy was the best of both worlds - all the hotness of an actual partner, none of the hard work. He never made it like that though. He cared about my pleasure as much as I did about his, even though we came at it from different sides.

Mmm... and just like always, he whispers in my ear.

"I love you. Are you comfy like this?"

"I'm fine, but would you like to roll over so we can get some sleep?"

"Mmm..." He nuzzles into my neckfur, letting his pleased noise ripple through my body. "I suppose that'd be good. You've got work in the morning, don't you?"

"Yeah, have to be in at 6."

"AM?"

"Yeah."

"I'll get you up."

His paws tightened onto me, his legs wrapping onto my hips. I gently rolled the two of us over. Sometimes there are plusses to being the a little bit of a bigger build than your top. His knot shifted around in me, sending little shivers of pleasure through my tail as he found a comfortable place behind me. His arms wrapped around me, one under me and one over, like they always did, and his paws found their comfortable places on my chest, my paws eventually gliding over to intertwine in his.

"Thank you." I squeezed his paws a bit as I said it, hoping he'd understand.

"I feel like I should be thanking you." He was already falling asleep, slurring his words a little.

"Not just for tonight. For... everything."

"I love you. You don't need to thank me. You do that enough every day."

He was as much of a romantic as I was. Not more, like my one ex, who proposed to me after a month. Not less, like the previous one, who didn't understand that a relationship meant you couldn't go out and have unprotected anonymous sex. No, this fox was... he was pretty great. Knew just how to make me weak at the knees.

Sleep always comes easy with him tied to me. I can let go of everything I'm saddled with during the day, and just be his. There's a beauty in letting it all go, and yet, I always rise the next morning with a bit more bounce in my step, and though I always end up singing along to some deliciously gay music on my drive into work, by the time I get to work, I'm all business, with a renewed fervor, a new lease on life. It's like he has this way of making me let go of everything I tie up inside me. God knows I'm a much better worker now. Things seem to come fluidly, and people have noticed.

If only they knew my little secret weapon. Not that I'd ever share.

I lean back against him, closing my eyes, and breathe in his scent.

"Goodnight love."

"Mfffmm..." He was so cute when he fell asleep.