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Around The Fur

by Dissident Love

All Rights Reserved 2013 For No Particular Reason

All Song Titles Used With Absolutely No Permission

Chapter 15 - Earth Rocker

Well, there you have it, I guess. It took me a hell of a long time to get here, the part all you sickos have been waiting for. I wanted to cover all the bases, to explain how we got from a tree fort in the woods to a Bush Fur mosh pit, from my dad's living room to my squeaky metal futon. This is more than just the story of how we met up again after all these years... it's a story of how our love survived everything the world could throw at us.

And it just so happens that this part of the story is how I survived everything his love could throw at me.

I hope that innuendo wasn't too subtle.

"Are you sure this time?" I breathed, burying my face in the fuzzy hollow of his neck. In deference to his coyote heritage most of his fur was fairly short, but his ruffly chest and neck was just so full and silky and inviting that for a moment I forgot about anything else. Myles nodded vigorously, nipping at my ear and sending electric tingles down my legs.

I won't lie. I was a little terrified.

Let me set the scene here, just in case you forgot. Myles, always the more physically gifted of the two of us (and I mean athletically, hand-eye co-ordination, not... you know), had managed to get the both of us naked in about, uh, three seconds. He needed my help with his pants, since I've got the stronger fingers and he'd done quite a number on them, but other than a single sock we were nothing but skin and fur. With me nuzzling at his throat, tugging his body up higher, his little footpaws were hardly even at my knees.

I traced down his slender body with my hands, his deep chest tapering to a waist I could actually get both hands around if I squeezed. I could feel his muzzle pull back in a grin, so I squeezed again. "Skinny bastard," I said affectionately, twitching when he poked me in my own slightly softer-than-necessary midsection. "Hey, we're not talking about me, we're talking about you!"

Because of how we were snuggled up together, I only had to move my hands an inch further south to come across his distressingly warm sheath pressed between us. It was... more or less how I remembered it from our last encounter, and I have to say I was a little relieved to discover I could get both my hands around it, but it was close. Very close.

I moaned something into his neck, and I'm not sure what it was but he responded instantly. His body stiffened, blunt claws sinking into my back, maw clamping down on my neck in that special way he had that turned me on more than I could believe. His tail hummed, his footpaws drummed on my knees, and my jinx apparently came back to haunt me: his sheath bloated up so much with one great surge of blood pressure that, sure enough, it forced my fingertips apart.

His breath left him in a great, silent, shuddering giggle and he slumped limply against me, my fingers once again meeting. I was frozen in shock, though, and it took me a second to catch up. Fucking hell, that was bigger around than his waist!!

My hands moved slowly, in a daze, caressing his mostly-retracted sheath now, velvety fuzz tugged back taut against his hips before moving on to the far more exciting flesh of his soft, dropped shaft. More than twice as long as his already-huge sheath had been, I couldn't believe all that wonderful bulk had been stuffed inside that tight little prison.

"Does that happen every time?" I asked hoarsely into his ear, petting at the hot, slightly damp mound snuggled up to my belly. He nodded again, breathing so hard he was whistling through his nose. "Doesn't that hurt?"

He shrugged and sketched something on my chest. It was difficult for me to focus on two things at once, feeling all of the many textures and features and veins of his soft foxy cock and also interpreting his doodle. I smiled in the darkness when I managed to decipher the two simple words: worth it.

"If you're sure," I said, pulling back slightly, kissing the tip of his adorable muzzle.

My right hand drifted further down, feeling out his other absolutely, deliciously oversized bulges. He had definitely been bigger the night before, but I also knew that he'd grown significantly while we made out, so I knew that this was only the beginning for him. Even so, they were each bigger than his head, and would soon each be bigger than mine.

"Have you ever considered Viagra?" I said with a straight face. "You know, it might help your little problem. I know you've always been self-conscious about being so small..."

His dreds were flopped to the side enough for me to see his eyes fly open, his jaw dropping in mock offense. He held his fingertips to his chest as if to say, 'Who, me?!'

I glanced down, but in the darkness of Casa del Bender, all I could see was the pale, ghostly shape of my own northern European heritage and the whitish fluff of his belly. The rest of his body was too dark to make out, but I could feel his shaft inching it's way up my body, slowly filling out, coming to life. "Wish I could see you better," I muttered, intending for it to not actually be heard.

Myles, though, had terrific hearing, and his head popped right up. For all I knew he could see just fine in this low light (curse you, human DNA!), and just never noticed until I pointed it out. I snuggled my hands around to his rump in an effort to restrain him, but he moved with phenomenal speed and grace for someone whose center of gravity was somewhere in front of his hips. All I remember was a flash of shadowy red fur, the immense floof of his tail smacking me in the face, and then he was gone.

I tried to sit up, but the unholy amounts of rye whisky still in my system spun my brain around in my skull and I ended up face-first back in the pillow. "Mrrf," I mumbled, managing to at least prop myself up on my elbows. "Where are you.... Myles? Where you going?"

There was a papery rustling, and then light bloomed in my dumpy little apartment. When I blinked away the tracers, there was my half-fox love, holding a match to a candle that I swear I'd never seen before. "Where did that... candle... come... fwahhm..."

My lack of verbal skill can, hopefully, be explained by the following words: Myles was naked by candlelight. I lack the ability with English to properly describe his beauty, and I doubt anyone alive could really capture it, but here goes.

...

HE WAS NAKED BY CANDLELIGHT.

Ok, I'll try harder.

He moved around the room like a ballerina, swinging his legs and pointing his little toes. The first candle moved with him, and he used it to light the others that, at some point, he had planted on various shelves and flat surfaces. "When did you set that up?" I asked thickly, still trying to come to grips with his rather exposed condition.

He tapped his wrist, which I guess meant earlier. I wasn't paying much attention in the rush to get to my Dad's place on time. I wasn't paying attention to much of anything except how terrified I was, and how wonderful Myles was to go with me and endure that torture. Soon two candles were lit, then three, then four... it was becoming awfully romantic in here.

Myles was soft, at least where I was looking. Most of his actual body was very firm, hardly an ounce of fat anywhere to pinch, but those heavy, swaying, faintly shiny shapes were the plush toys of my dreams. It was well past his knees now, and his ballerina gait was obviously devised after considerable practice with his endowments. Bit by bit, though, it was being forced further away from his body as his sac swelled. As he twirled around the room, half a dozen candles now flickering merrily away, his shaft was also beginning the long, slow process of hardening, angle widening ever further from his legs.

He lit one more by the fridge, placed the final candle on the microwave and with an impressive slow-motion pirouette, spun to face me. It was hard to read his expression, backlit as he was, but he slid his fist up his body until it came to rest aside his head, and he pointed at me.

"What do I want?" I said hoarsely, reading our age-old sign language pidgin. I looked down at my body, not especially notable in any regard, except so hard I was in danger of bursting a blood vessel, and then at Myles, my golden-glowing angel. "I... I want..."

It was obvious what I wanted. It was, in some form or another, what I've wanted practically since we met. I couldn't get my jaw to work, though; I couldn't quite find the words to tell him how I felt, to really make him understand.

But maybe I didn't need to.

"I want you to sing for me," I said.

His head moved back, his surprise palpable, but I could make out the grin as he moved closer. His fuzzy, foxy hips swayed back and forth, and more and more of him was swinging in the process as, against most natural law, he continued to swell with need. I could tell he was hardly even semi-hard yet, and there was an easy two feet of black flesh there. More.

He tapped his ear, and I shrugged. "I don't know. Uhm... it's weird, I've thought of this... a lot, actually," I laughed, running my hand through my hair. "And I've thought of a lot of songs I'd love you to sing, but... now, I can't think of any of them."

Myles was close to the bed now, the tapered tip of his shaft just brushing the sheets of the futon despite him being a good stride away. He started to hum; I listened long enough to pick up the tune, and I laughed again.

"'Rise Today'? Subtle."

He hummed something else, and I rolled my eyes. "'I Fink U Freeky'? Wow... I'm not sure how to feel about that. But it does seem... apropos..."

Myles pondered, one hand sort of idly petting the base of his cock that was now definitely thicker than his thigh. Sweet merciful hell what does he plan to do with that, and... and how can I let him... I shook my head, focusing on the new humming. "Uhm... wait... I know that song..." My eyes widened in a mixture of hilarity and horror. "'Tight Like That'?"

He was doubled over, laughing silently, tail waving back and forth behind him. I managed to wrestle one of my arms out from under me and boffed him with a pillow. "That's not quite the level of romance I was hoping for, Myles," I smiled, my insides roiling. "But I like how you think."

When he straightened up, his grin remained but there was a look of piercing confidence in what I could see of his eyes. He took a deep breath, but instead of humming something for me to guess, he started to sing.

Obviously, I wasn't the only one who'd thought about this moment.

"Don't the hours go shorter as the days go by," he crooned softly, voice thick with longing. He leaned back slightly, hips rolling, shaft rising above the mattress. He moved closer, crawling onto the bed on paws and knees, his semi-hard arousal sliding across the sheets. "We never get to stop and open our eyes..."

I smiled, stroking the side of his face when he got near. I knew the song well, a bit of a guilty pleasure of mine. I might be generally a metalhead, but I could appreciate the classics. It had become a bit of an underground theme for skin-fur relations, and I wasn't at all surprised to discover Myles knew it. He leaned in to kiss me and I met him halfway, eagerly returning the sentiment.

"One minute you're waiting for the sky to fall," he continued, swinging one leg across mine, resting the crushing weight of his sac against my thigh. His shaft pressed heavily against my body, from my waist all the way up to my collarbone. It throbbed regularly, each rhythmic throb forcing it larger and larger, rubbing against my skin as it swelled. "The next, you're dazzled by the beauty of it all..."

Myles put his paws to my chest and pushed himself upwards, now kneeling between my legs. I stared up at him, torn between lust and admiration, shivering when he slid his little claws down my thighs. His sac, stretched black and snug around twin orbs now each definitely larger than my head, completely covered my own member, and I was acutely aware of the growing pressure as his balls filled. My hands encircled his cock, and I had to squeeze hard in order to get my fingertips to touch, but each time I squeezed it responded by briefly hardening like steel and just forcing my fingers apart again.

"Lovers in a dangerous time," he sang, eyes closed, swaying to the music only he could hear.

It's only dangerous if he keeps growing! I thought, but the goofy smile on my face would not be budged. I trusted him absolutely, but it was still nerve-wracking. He didn't seem to be inclined to stop me this time, so I screwed up my courage (seriously, why is that a figure of speech?) tilted my head ever so slightly forwards, and kissed the lovely, tapered tip of his shaft.

"LoVERS... in a dangerous time," Myles yipped, twitching as though he'd been shocked as soon as my lips touched him. The other response was immediate and mind-boggling, his foxy member pushing forwards several more inches, veins and tendons straining against the thinning skin. I no longer had to tilt my head; from his perch between my legs, knees drawn up against my butt, his cock now reached right to my nose.

Another beat of his heart, and it expanded a tiny bit more...

"These fragile bodies of touch and taste," he purred sweetly, hunching forwards and smooching at my belly, having to lean his head to the side to actually get around his girth. My hands played ardently along his incredible column, my tongue exploring as much of him as I could reach. His taste on my lips was intoxicating, overpowering, and I moaned in faint disappointment when he began to crawl backwards. His hands moved down my legs, muzzle kissing his way down to my hips, the base of my own modest endowment, and with agonizing slowness dragging his tongue along my length. "This fragrant skin, this hair like lace..."

His little clawed paws were down to my knees now, discretely but firmly pushing them out wider. I was up on my elbows now, watching him shimmy towards the far end of the futon, his legs actually dangling off of the edge now. His long, slender muzzle nipped at my inner thighs, and it was my turn to spasm in delighted shock when it slid forwards and down beneath me, planting a tender and very startling kiss against my hole.

"Spirits open to a thrust of grace," he continued, footpaws once again on solid ground, hands gripping my calves. His sac rest on the very edge of the mattress, considerably wider than his hips now and visibly inflating with seed, tensing up and surging outwards in time with his slow, steady breathing. Standing past my curling toes he drew his hips back, the tip of his shaft caressing my lower belly, grazing my own dick and, only just barely, slipping down between my splayed legs where he had kissed moments before. "Never a breath you can afford to waste..."

He had passed three feet long already, surely, and I tried to wrap my mind around his current dimensions. He was only a little more than five feet tall, and right now there was easily four feet of twitching, glossy, midnight black flesh weighing him down. That's a lot of numbers, I thought woozily, the haze of rye unable to dull my senses. One Myles, two balls, three feet, four feet, five feet... oh gods he's squeezing...

"Lovers in a dangerous time," he sang, eyes locked on mine. His tail stood ramrod straight behind him, his long, lean body hunched over, almost using my ankles for support. He licked his lips and nodded once, eyebrows raising.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. I was as relaxed as I was likely ever to be, and thanks to my lovely coyfox constantly on beverage refill duty, I was unlikely to feel any pain until sometime the next morning. I would do anything for Myles... he didn't even have to ask. I nodded in return, and he smiled.

"When you're lovers in a dangerous time," Myles moaned, his voice rising, whipstrong muscles standing out like cords on his neck and arms as he squeezed, "sometimes you're made to feel as if your love's a crime..."

I did a passable job at describing the last few minutes, I think, but from here on out, it's just not possible. How can I accurately explain the position we ended up in, the sheer glorious vision of my sweet little coyfox and his raging hardon, or the way his staggering girth was prying my legs still further apart? Did he seriously think this was going to work? He admitted he was still technically a virgin, and I most certainly was, at least as far as we were concerned.

I squeezed my eyes shut, clenched my teeth, willing myself to relax. I could feel his arms shaking with the effort, and I wished I could help more, but for now he was definitely in the driver's seat. He was immensely strong for his size, the pressure against my rear skyrocketing. My hips creaked with the strain, and tapered glans or no I'd decided that it simply wasn't going to happen.

"Myles, I..." I started, writhing on the mattress, half desire and half aching distress. "I don't... don't think..."

"Nothing worth having comes without some kind of fight," he serenaded, approaching the song's crescendo. I could feel his heartbeat very intimately, I was aware of the distant screaming protest from where his slicked flesh met mine, and I realized that Myles, the love of my life whom I would trust to my dying day, was not giving up. He would never have continued if he didn't genuinely think it would have worked, and that was enough for me. My hands had been clutching madly at the sheets, so I reached up, gripped the metal rail behind my head, and pushed.

I can't imagine what it felt like for him, but that was one of the only times I've ever heard his singing voice falter. "Gotta kick... kick... kick at the... the darkness..." he wheezed, pitch rising and falling, squeaking and grunting. I laughed and winced at the concept that the consummation of our love was a fight that involved kicking at the darkness...

Whatever he sang next was drowned out by my own cries of lust. I've had dreams where Myles, or a representation of him, found me and swept me off my feet and, well, the dreams usually got pretty X-rated after that. I have very vivid dreams, and as much as I can see in colors and read words and hear music, I could never really feel much, so when things inevitably got amorous they were exciting but less than realistic.

Realism seemed to get tossed out the window, though, when my feisty little coyfox's indomitable will overcame my body's meager defenses.

I was beyond words, more animal growls than human speech now. I felt like I was being split in two, but as much as there was a very real twinge of soreness in areas that I didn't even knew I had and as much as his claws were seriously digging into my ankles, all I could think about was how strangely and astonishingly pleasurable it was. The first single thrust was already far beyond what I ever thought I'd have been able to take, but my love drew a shuddering breath, pulled back (dragging me several inches in the process!) and ploughed forward with renewed vigor.

Blood pounded in my ears; I couldn't hear anything anymore. My eyes were squeezed shut, my elbows locked, gripping the rail so hard my knuckles popped. Absolutely all of my attention was focused on the preposterous amount of canid cock forcing it's way into me, and the tiny but iron-hard paws climbing up my legs.

It's too much, I'm going to tear something, I think my hip just popped, I... I... oh my god...

I spasmed, pushed over the edge just from the very first thrusts. I felt myself tighten around him, and just like before his shaft responded to every squeeze by swelling and hardening with overwhelming potency. I felt a little bad for finishing so early, but if there was ever a time in my life where I was prepared to go again and again and again, it was tonight.

I was not prepared for Myles, having crawled back onto the bed, paws digging into my hips, to suddenly drop his maw onto my dick, teeth pinpricking the base, just as I came.

He told me later that I screamed like a girl, but I don't believe him.

I was not in control of my body for the next minute, bucking wildly and erupting over and over. His strong, raspy tongue wrapped completely around my entire length, squeezing and flexing in ways I can't even describe, and every time I thought my climax was fading he drew still more out of me. With every spurt I clenched internally, and he swelled in response.

One by one, I pried my fingers off of the metal rail, hearing the joints snap and crackle. I was hyperventilating, throat raw and raspy, unable to properly catch my breath. I opened my eyes and saw nothing but a swimming ocean of golden candlelight. Tiny, adorable paws stroked fondly at my midsection, and I could feel Myles' head resting on my leg, kissing and nuzzling at my flagging arousal. I reached down and tousled his dreds with one hand, squeezing a paw with the other.

"Wow," I managed eventually. "You... you... just... wow."

From his gentle touches and my own inability to take a deep breath, comprehension finally dawned. I stared at the ceiling until I regained enough of my senses to make out details, and then slowly lifted my head. Myles was staring back up at me, smiling happily and licking his lips, but his eyes were huge with concern. It wasn't hard to figure out why.

My hand moved to the immense mound where my belly button had once been. I touched it, and it twitched beneath my palm; for a brief moment I could make out the outline of his glans, my skin stretched taut around it. Beyond it, Myles was sprawled out on the rest of his shaft, tail wagging back and forth happily, and I fancied I could actually see his balls beyond the inviting curve of his rump. Sweet baby Jesus, how big are those now?!

Winking, he hugged my waist and tugged, and I cried out again as another couple inches drove home.

"It's not unusual to find out that I'm in love with you," he sang, doing a fairly accurate, if cheezy, Tom Jones impression.

I was still moaning, twisting on the bed, thoroughly impaled and not able to do much other than, well, twist and moan. I couldn't help myself, and reached down to where I was already as hard as marble and ready to go again. A little bit beyond that, formerly familiar areas were being shoved irresistibly aside by his wondrous anatomy.

I tried to sit up again, and could still only raise my head. "Hey! You just sang one line!"

Myles blinked and nodded slowly. He reached his arm as far as he could get it and started to sketch something on my chest. "What's that... ok, it... doesn't... always... work. Oh, it's something new you're trying?" He nodded again, whiskers tickling my lap. "That's awesome, dude! There's a LOT of lines you could do with that! "

He just shrugged, lifting his head off my leg and getting back on paws and knees. "Well, doesn't always work... practice?"

He grinned and nodded, nuzzling once more at what of my body he could reach. I shivered, running my hands along his cheeks, his ears, his scruffy neck. "I wish I could kiss you," I breathed, or at least tried to breathe. "But... I can't... really move like this... also, I think you're pushing on my lungs."

Myles put his hands on his shaft and pushed himself up, admiring his handiwork. He whistled in appreciation, wriggling his hips and shaking my body back and forth. "Whoa, easy there, big fella," I gasped. "There's... only so much of me to go around."

"There ain't enough of me to go around," Myles sang, affecting a pretty good Southern accent.

"I'm not so sure about tha-a-a-a-at!" Keeping true to his history of not talking as well as not listening, the little coyfox once again squeezed my hips and dug his footpaws into my heels, thrusting harder than before. I groaned, gripping the rail with one hand and clutching at his shoulder with the other, just hoping I could survive. "G... gentle...?"

He nipped playfully at the ever-growing bulge in my belly, cute teeth grazing lusciously against my skin, his flesh underneath swelling in response. He pursed his lips and hummed, gazing at my body, rocking his hips back and forth. I panted with each little shove, not really in any position to do otherwise.

The feeling... the feeling was incredible. So much of him rubbed against so much of me in far more intimate places than I had been prepared to admit I enjoyed. I was shocked to find myself on the verge of coming again, but this time there was a lot more of an uphill battle; every thrust caused me to shudder from head to toe, and as much as I wanted to focus on his pleasure, there wasn't much I could do.

Well... maybe there was something.

I slid my feet together as much as I could, and both of us gasped when my toes began to knead his sac. Bigger than before wasn't the word for it! As much as he was forcing my own legs apart, these were forcing his apart even more. I looked down and saw the twin mounds rising just beyond his twitching tail, taut and black and exceedingly full.

"All that... for me?" I moaned. Myles glanced behind himself and whistled again. "Oh, like you didn't know!"

He had found his rhythm, pitching back and forth, his breath gradually growing louder. "Hard to believe... this is your first time!" I chuckled, feeling drunk with something other than alcohol for once. "Mmmf... this... won't be your last... trust me..."

We locked eyes, and the glee in his expression was unmistakable. He started to sketch something on my chest, and for once his control seemed to be cracking; it was like drawing with a speech impediment. "Say... that... tomato?" The coyfox bared his fangs and smacked me, drawing over again. "Say... that... tomorrow! Oh! Mmm... pretty sure I will... unf... if I can talk..."

I rubbed the outline of his cock through my tummy, amazed I could make out the little details. "You're incredible," I moaned, writhing on the bed, sliding my feet across his balls, feeling those veins getting harder and harder. They were getting firmer by the second, filling up with gods knew how much seed. He was inching his way higher, burying more of himself within me, but it seemed as though he wasn't done growing.

"Are... are you still..." I started to ask, but my loving coyfox, always concerned for my well-being, silenced my protests in the most considerate way imaginable: by dropping his nippy little muzzle onto my cock again. I cried out, arching my back and nearly lifting him off of the futon.

I felt stretched out and wrung out, but he's never been one to take 'oh please gods stop' for an answer, and I wasn't about to argue. Mostly because I couldn't.

His maw tightened on me, harder than before, and the nature of his thrusting changed, becoming more abrupt. His shaft seemed to expand in all directions, so rigid I could feel my back straightening. Heat bloomed within me, liquid fire like I'd never felt before. I groped for his hands, but he'd snuggled his paws beneath me, clutching my rump and holding on for dear life, so I ended up twining my fingers in his hair, guiding him up and down as he approached his own climax.

Slowly the condom-tight outline of his canid cock began to fade, but only because he was slowly filling me with pre at a rate I'd normally reserve for garden hoses. I managed to focus my eyes long enough to stare down at myself, watching my belly slowly bulge outwards, in all directions now. I saw Myles's eyes fill with concern once more... but one enormous thrust later, and he was gone. I could see the tips of his ears going up and down, but that was it.

I felt a scratching at my hip. "Ruok? Oh... R U OK?" I swallowed nervously, my insides feeling like they were run over by a car, but the overwhelming waves of pleasure completely erasing any discomfort I might have felt. "Fuck... yes... Myles..."

He drew a little heart, and I drew one right back on his cheek with my finger.

There were no more words or doodles after that. There didn't need to be. Probably half of his unbelievable shaft had forced it's way into me, and that was more than I think either of us had dared dream. I was starting to look a little bit like a Scandinavian beachball, but under the circumstances, it was really, really sexy (or so he tells me. Often.)

I felt his balls tighten further, as hard as wood now. I couldn't hazard a guess as to how big they were, but feeling over them with my toes I got the feeling I wouldn't have believed my eyes even if I could see them. His muzzle lifted up to the very tip of me and then plunged right back down again, sending shivers through my entire body. Fuck, he's insatiable!

One last time, his demeanor changed. My graceful angel was gone, replaced by what seemed more like a bucking bronco. He's never felt whatever he's feeling right now, I realized. This is as new for him as it is for me! More than anything, I was honored that Myles, adored and luster after by thousands of screaming fans, had not only chosen me, but apparently saved himself for me. If that wasn't love, I'm not sure what was!

My belly, now distressingly pregnant-looking, bulged wildly as he thrust, the outline of his tapered glans appearing repeatedly. I don't know how many gallons I had been pumped full of, but if his bloating sac was any indication, it was hardly even a taste. I could feel his breath on my lap, his claws leaving marks in my rear.

I'm a little ashamed to admit that, for a second there, I was afraid that I wouldn't be enough for him, and he wouldn't be able to finish. I mean, it wasn't as though I were actually CONTRIBUTING much right now. I could reach his ears, barely, I couldn't sit up, I couldn't even really push back against him.

His hands flew to my lap and he pushed himself up, muzzle leaving my shaft with a 'pop'. I could see his face again over my distended body, and the mixture of confusion, shock and ecstasy gave him the most adorable, innocent, puppyish appearance, which was a little at odds with what he was doing to me. His eyes bugged out, his jaw worked soundlessly, his entire body vibrating like a guitar string.

"Are-" I started to say, but I was cut off when he threw back his head and howled, every ounce of his coyote heritage shining through.

I thought I'd been crammed open as much as was physically possible, but for the tenth time that night Myles proved me wrong. I could actually feel his cock expand, the underside ballooning outwards as the garden hose was replaced by a water main bursting. Oh man, I thought, don't think about the word 'bursting!'

His baying continued, punctuated by a piercing yip with each eruption. The first surge was far in excess of what he had already pumped into me, as hot as lava and seeming to permeate my entire body. My grip on his wrists was broken, my midsection expanding madly off in all directions. He drove himself deeper, wetness splashing my thighs with each pump.

I think I came again around this time. I can't really remember. I could hardly feel any of my body anymore... I could only feel Myles.

My legs lifted off of the bed as my body continued to inflate. I clung for dear life onto... well, myself. I couldn't reach anything else! Myles was completely out of sight, even his tail well hidden by what I was becoming.

"How-" I tried to ask, futilely. I hiccuped, the pressure rising beyond all rational limits, and I actually felt my ears pop (augh, there's that word again!) I don't know how I was still managing to draw breath, but I whispered a silent prayer to whichever perverted, voyeuristic deities were watching over us.

I know exactly when I reached my limit, though. My skin hit whatever absolute upper bound governed its elasticity, but Myles was nowhere near finished. He gushed again, and again, but I got no bigger... I sure as hell got tighter, though. Oh please oh please oh please oh please OH

My thighs weren't just wet now. With nowhere else to go, my slightly overly-potent coyfox's orgasm was finished with me and was now hard at work flooding my apartment. I don't know what I looked like, but I could feel Myles's arms attempting to embrace me, and I couldn't even get close to his paws with my hands.

I hiccuped again, my nostrils and my mind filled with the overpowering scent of his seed. Wait a minute, I thought, that's... that's... uh oh... Another hiccup and my mouth was filled, hot and sticky and exotic. That was a good description for Myles, too!

His wail petered out before his cock did, and for another minute all he could do was cling desperately to me, gasping and grinding his hips. His breathy squeaks were pleading, almost desperate-sounding, and I couldn't really blame him. I don't think my brain would have survived whatever sexual catharsis he was experiencing.

I swam in and out of consciousness, staring dazedly at one of the nearby flickering candles. I wanted to tell him that I loved him, I wanted to ask if he was ok, I wanted to reassure him that in spite of the cruel and unusual punishment he had inflicted all over my insides I couldn't imagine being happier, and he was more than welcome to do it again. After I'd recovered.

I wanted to say a lot of things, but the spreading puddle of coyfox-spunk on my pillow was making it a little tricky.

My last waking memory was Myles, humming a few bars of what sounded like 'We Are The Champions' before collapsing sideways across my lap, snoring like a chainsaw.

Chapter 16 - Hero Of The Day

For reasons that I can't accurately explain, most of my dreams that night involved fighting.

That's not new for me. A lot of my dreams involve fighting, although there's generally one of two themes prevalent in each case. Either a) we're being chased by some sort of dangerous, violent force (sometimes in the form of zombies, or maniacs with chainsaws, or the Yakuza), or b) we've moved somewhere new and the locals forcefully try to run is out of town.

Who is 'we' and 'us' in these dreams? Well, that changes, too. Sometimes it's me and my dad, sometimes it's me and my girlfriend, sometimes it's just someone I saw on TV right before going to bed. On one memorable occasion, I was rescuing River Tam from velociraptors. Good times.

And yes, sometimes, it's me and Myles.

This was a Myles-centric dream, to my delight. I don't remember a lot of the first half. I know we were in the Bender Beamer (see Chapter 1), and we were driving through some ridiculous Southwestern desert landscapes. No matter which way we turned, we were driving off into the sunset together. We were holding hands by the gearshift, and his tail was hanging out the window. His eyes were closed, and he was speaking, but I couldn't hear any words, just the roar of the engine and the whistle of the wind.

It gets fuzzy after that, but I guess we stopped somewhere, and the next thing I know black-eyed golems of desert sandstone are dragging my love away, to be sacrificed on a bonfire in a cornfield. I don't even know where the cornfield came from, we were JUST in the desert, but whatever. Cornfield. Got it.

I was kicking and punching and going nuts, but I couldn't hurt them. I tried to drag him to safety, but the golems were too strong and I didn't want to tear my coyfox in half. He was crying for me to save him, so I did the only thing I could think of: I just grabbed one of the golems, and picked it up, and squeezed it until it exploded.

Hey, it's a dream. I can do that shit.

The other ones piled on me, though, and I ended up at the bottom of a mountain of rocks. Every time I found the strength to lift it and crawl out from underneath, another one jumped on and I was back where I started. They were crushing me, and I couldn't breathe, but Myles was grabbing my hand and yanking me to safety. A golem appeared behind him, and I tried to cry out a warning, but I had no breath. It grabbed Myles's shoulders and prepared to drag him off to the bonfire...

And Myles, sweet little harmless pacifist Myles, spun around and cracked it with a tiny fist so hard it split down the middle as though struck by lightning.

That was the first dream I've ever had involving Myles where he rescued me.

I awoke with a start, and all at once I realized what the bonfires had symbolized. I struggled to sit up, arms numb, legs missing in action, mumbling something about "Candles! Candles!"

I was nearly upright when I realized the candles were all out, the only light was from the clock on the microwave, and the reason it was so hard to sit up was Myles was hugging me around the waist, slender arms locked tight, snoring into my lower back.

I slumped back to the warm, slightly damp futon mattress, my dream slowly being replaced with memories of our reality.

"Sorry," I mumbled thickly, patting at my body and confirming that, yeah, more or less, I seemed to have sprung back into my original shape. Everything felt... weird. Off. You know how when you blow up a balloon and then let it deflate, it's all wonky looking? I was like that, but on the inside.

He reached up and stroked my cheek, brushing gently at my eyes. I chuckled and took the hint, closing my eyes and trying to force myself to drift back off to dream land, hopefully with slightly happier endings. "Just... had a dream... s'all," I muttered, snuggling back against him. He radiated heat like a moist little furnace, and a quick pat reassured me that he had sprung back to normal, too.

"S'it gon' be like that ev'ry night?" I managed, already losing contact with my extremities, sleep washing over me.

His only answer was to grin against my back, slide his other hand lower to give me a very intimate little grope, and then another happy snore.

How's he fall asleep so fa-

---

"Candles!"

I sat up in bed, heart pounding, looking around wildly. My apartment was brightly lit now, the cheap venetian blinds turned open, pretty much every lamp on. Even the television was showing the morning news, though the sound was turned all the way down and subtitles marched across the bottom.

Most importantly, I smelled coffee.

"Myles?"

There was no answer.

He'd obviously been up for a bit, and I didn't work until... uhm... what day... uhm... four? Oh, freaking hell, my head.

Ok. I laid back down. The rye was coming back with a vengeance, bringing its good buddies disorientation and thoughts of suicide. I poked at my midsection, rolling my tongue around in my mouth. Less collateral damage than I'd have guessed. Oh, man, my place is going to be such a mess! I sniffed. Myles's scent permeated the room like a fog, and I smiled. It was definitely better than my place usually smelled.

The coffee machine burbled, and I decided to mount an expedition to the kitchenette to investigate the possibility of consuming it. The coffee, not the kitchenette.

I sat up again, slowly, deliberately, careful to make sure my brain didn't escape through my ear. Nope. Stayed put. Thanks, buddy. No problem. Next test, legs. I shifted awkwardly, feeling the most peculiar twinges in the most private places, and successfully located the floor with my toes.

"Hmm," I said curiously. "I thought it would be... wetter."

I glanced at the bed. Yeah, that was still kind of an apocalyptic lovemaking disaster. I don't even think they make a washing machine for this sort of load, but... oh well. "Worth it," I smiled.

Standing up was a little more of a production, my back and hips creaking in protest as they tried to drag themselves back into their regular locations. Pins and needles radiated down one leg, while the other lost any sensation whatsoever for a few seconds. A couple twists and toe-touches through gritted teeth later, I decided I was in good enough shape to walk.

That was when I realized why the floor was dry.

Myles had cleaned.

The day before, he'd piled his luggage (in the form of large black plastic garbage bags, like all true musicians) against one corner. They were gone. The few cheap throw rugs I'd had strewn around as an alternative to the cold painted concrete were also missing. The shelves were straightened, my DVDs were put away, and every flat surface seemed to have been emptied of my carefully-organized chaos.

Without the throw rugs, I also realized that like all good former storage rooms, I had a floor drain.

"I hope he didn't contaminate the groundwater," I chuckled, heading to my dresser. Normally the old-fashioned five-drawer only contained clean clothes for a couple days after my monthly laundry run, but now it was full to bursting (augh, that word) with, well... my stuff. I pulled on a pair of shorts and wandered over to the kitchenette.

There was a large coffee mug in front of the coffee machine, next to a bottle of Feeny's Old Fashioned Irish Cream and a Post-It note. "Dear Loverboy," I read aloud, pouring the inky black brew. "Cleaned up a bit. Didn't want to wake you. You looked a little worn out. Drink up. I probably went out for a bit. See you soon. Love, the naked guy from last night."

I smiled, topping off my fifty-fifty mix of coffee and booze. It was perfectly socially acceptable to have Irish Cream before breakfast, as long as it was in coffee. Everyone knows that, right?

Shut up, that's what.

According to the microwave, it was close to 11am. That's actually the most sleep I've gotten in a while! Normally I'm up too late, or up too early, or both, and let's face it, lately I've had something on my mind. Or someone on my lap. Or both.

"Wonder where he went?" I yawned, wandering around. Yeah, sure enough, there was the mop and bucket from the Fas Gas supply room. He'd actually MOPPED while I was asleep? I felt a little ashamed at that, passed out and useless while he cleaned my whole abode.

Then again, the mess WAS his fault. Not that I would ever fault or blame him for that. Heck, I was already planning for how we could do it again! Somewhere safe, somewhere comfortable, and somewhere that was easy to clean...

A couple cups of coffee later, with progressively less alcohol, and my headache was beaten into a full retreat. I decided to pitch in a little bit with the domestic duties, stripping the futon and bundling everything up for a trip to the laundromat. Thank gods for cheap, easily-cleaned foam, too!

After that, it was definitely shower time.

"I can't believe he cleaned in here, too!" I chuckled, staring at the spic-and-span facilities. "Wow, my toilet was white?" Who knew?

I got the shower on it's standard setting of 'hot enough to fry an egg' and climbed in, still nursing my coffee. Groans filled the bathroom as the stinging droplets loosened muscles that had spent far too much being tense.

Oh, get your mind out of the gutter, not THOSE muscles.

Well, ok, those muscles, too, but mostly I meant, like, my neck and shoulders. Jeez. It's been a stressful couple of days! Cut me some slack.

Steam rose around me in a soothing cloud. All things considered, I felt... OK. I thought there would have been a little bit more, ahem, damage after what my big little coyfox had done to me. I would have welcomed whatever the circumstances might have been, but to know that I could endure his love, that I could give him the joy he'd given me? I was walking on the clouds today.

The steam swirled, and the sounds of the shower changed subtly behind me.

"Welcome back," I said softly.

A tiny claw poked my side and I jumped, coffee droplets flying. "Hey, careful, man! There's a beverage here!"

Two little arms encircled my waist, and I shivered, breaking out in goosebumps despite the searing shower. I tossed back the rest of my drink, plunked the mug onto the little soap shelf thingie that no-one ever uses because it's always sloped TOWARDS the shower and the soap just slides right off, and held his little paws in my hands, tugging him closer. "I missed you," I murmured.

I felt him snuggling up against me, fur slicked down, his maw nipping at my shoulder blades. There was a whole lot of coyfox pressing against the backs of my legs, but he seemed to have returned to his normal size, whatever one could consider normal for him. I murred, and I felt his chest bounce with laughter. "What? Humans can make that noise, too, you know. We just don't often have a good reason to."

His chest rumbled, and his hands dipped down lower. "Whoa, there, big fella! I'm still on the mend here! After last night, I don't know if everything even still works!"

A few damp little squeezes, though, and we both had our answer. "Ok, well... maybe that still works... surely you need some more recovery time?"

He rolled his hips once, and a truly terrifying amount of flesh pressed wetly against my backside. I murred again, louder this time, and spun around in his arms. "Making up for lost time?" I said, finally able to give Myles a good morning kiss. "There'll be lots of other times, you know."

He frowned and stepped back, holding his hands chastely by his side, and I burst into laughter. With his tail wet down and his dreds even heavier than normal, he looked like something the cat had dragged in after a particularly bad spring storm. Even his adorable ruff was drooping, a white stripe that ran all the way down to where his sheath was twitching, plumping up the way I'd grown so delightfully accustomed to.

"Oh, come here, you big doofus," I said affectionately, pulling him close, clinging to him, never wanting to let go again. He wrapped his arms around my neck, hopping up and hooking his legs around my waist. "Whoa! Are you going to do that every time?"

He closed his jaw on my neck and I moaned, my grip tightening, his sac and sheath pressed between our bodies growing firmer. "I hope that means yes," I wheezed, legs wobbling. "I'm gonna have to start working out again, aren't I?"

Many nods, his tail slapping against my legs. "I don't suppose I could convince you to lose some weight?" I grinned, sliding my hands down to his rump, perhaps the only place on his entire body that wasn't lean muscle. He inhaled deep and exhaled hard, his muzzle still against my neck and making a passable growling noise. "No, huh?"

He wriggled his hips, and I gasped. There was a lot of him swelling against me, but for once I was thinking about something else. "I guess... I owe you one," I said nervously, hiking him a little bit higher, feeling his lap rubbing against my shaft. "Do you... I mean, can I..."

Myles nodded so hard he almost wore through the skin on my neck. He unclamped his muzzle, stretched out and planted a kiss on my lips, reaching up and gripping the back of my head with one paw. He slowly loosened his other arm, and unable to properly hold my slippery love, he lowered, with agonizing slowness.

Well, I guess I'm not afraid anymore oh my gods oh my gods oh my gods

"Oh my gods, oh my gods, oh my gods," I moaned, realizing that I was talking out loud.

He reached beneath us and guided me, rolling his hips with impressive power. After last night, the thought of a size difference making anything difficult was laughable, but even if I only felt a fraction of what he'd gone through, it was still an act of will not to finish then and there. My arms squeezed harder still, my entire body shuddering as I entered him. My eyes shut instinctively, but I forced them open, staring down into his eyes.

At least, I would have, but his eyes were clenched shut, his head hanging slack to the side, tongue lolling out. I felt a little bit of pride at that, watching him quiver as he lowered still further. My little coyfox was so snug around me I was worried about hurting him, but he bucked once, slamming himself down with surprising force. I cried out, almost taking a knee, but managing to stay upright, the shower soaking us both.

He thrashed again, and it was an effort to hold onto him, but I realized why a moment later. Claws digging into my shoulder he leaned his body as far back as he could, driving his rump against me harder still, and giving himself enough room to show just how much he was enjoying himself. His sheath spasmed, slapping against his chest and drawing back, unable to contain him any more, so much flesh spilling forth in one great surge that he was already semi-hard, the tip rubbing against his cheek.

"W-... wow..." I gasped, staring down at him, watching him grow from closer than ever before. I leaned over, kissing at his neck while he writhed, nuzzling his chest and moving tenderly to his cock, already stretching beyond the tips of his floppy ears. "You... could never... be subtle... could you?"

Myles pulled himself closer, our bodies separated by his thigh-thick endowment, his sac squeezing around it and filling out like basketballs. It was a bit of an acrobatic event for him, and after one quick kiss he had to slump backwards again to give his anatomy room. He bared his teeth in chagrin, but I shushed him. "It's ok," I breathed, finding a stance that worked and beginning to thrust with more confidence now. "There'll be time for that... later..."

He nodded, hooking his legs tighter and grinding in rhythmic response. He was achingly hard within seconds, veins popping out all over his canid length, shiny and black, water droplets sliding everywhere. I kissed the underside, sliding my tongue as close to the tip as I could manage, Myles doing likewise on top.

Not quite as vastly overpowered as I had been the previous night, he squeezed internally around me and I groaned loudly, unable to help myself. His tail slipped between my legs, caressing me intimately, coaxing me closer.

Think about something else! Think about... math... Tanya... work schedule... something...

"Are you... are you going to..." I breathed, wishing I could free my hands to stroke his beautiful gifts. He apparently took the hint and released my shoulders, his hands flying up and down with familiar skill. With his legs taking more of the burden, though, he clenched around me like a vise and I cried out.

So happy... building... is concrete... soundproof... even my thoughts... are difficult!

Myles' sac overfilled to such a degree that they were pressing against my forearms, making it difficult to keep my grip on his rump. He continued to roll his hips against me, occasionally sashaying side to side, seeming to push and pull on me simultaneously. I was seeing stars, the edges of my vision going dark. "You're too fucking hot," I panted in exasperation, continuing to shower his shaft with affection. "Trying... not to finish!"

A padded finger pressed against my lips, and he peered around his gorgeously oversized endowments. My lovely coyfox just waggled his eyebrows at me, dragging his tongue up a vein the size of my thumb. Go on, he urged. There will be other times.

His cock rising between us, higher even than my head now, throbbed and twitched with each thrust from me. It bumped the showerhead, spraying us both (although more Myles than me; I was practically shielded by it!) I couldn't believe how much his weight was increasing, and my knees were certainly getting their workout today. Normally he was light enough I could hoist him up with one arm, but now it was a trial with both!

The hardest part, though, was trying to outlast him. I wasn't going to let him get off that easy... er, that is, I was TRYING to let him get off that easy, but... oh, you know what I mean.

The alphabet backwards worked for a minute, but when I got down to 'b', all I could think about was how big his balls were getting. No doubt they weren't even approaching their size of the previous night, but it was like a pair of medicine balls trying to force our hips apart. Myles had to lean back farther and farther to give himself more room, but even that wasn't enough when his knot suddenly bulged, an explosion of flesh against my lower belly.

There wasn't anything I could do after that. It was just too much of a good thing. Myles's paws were wrapped around the base of his shaft (or at least as much of it as he could), slowly being forced upwards by his growing knot. Holy fuck, that's what it looks like? Probably for the best he couldn't get THAT into me!

But I had crossed the point of no return. I thrust once, twice, gasping for air. One of Myles' paws reached up and stroked my cheek affectionately, a tender gesture somehow at odds with the animalistic shower fucking.

The night before, my own orgasms had been sparklers in the supernova of sensations Myles had been assaulting me with, enjoyable but almost unnoticed. Hot and tight and grinding against me, though, this was something else altogether. I tried to hold back, I really did, and might have even bought myself another couple seconds...

Myles told me afterwards that I howled a little bit like a wolf, but that's just nonsense. I'm sure I was a perfect gentleman. Suave, even. I exploded within him, more violently, more incandescently than any in my admittedly short life, even putting his muzzle jobs to shame. White heat surrounded me, his tailhole constricting, prolonging my climax.

I was just starting to come down from my heavenly glow, blinking away the shower droplets, huffing and puffing like an old-timey steam train, when Myles decided he had to one-up me.

I managed to pry my eyes open in time to get the ultimate first-person front-row view of his release. His knot was probably bigger around than my body, while his cock was definitely bigger around than his. The pressure around my dick increased enormously, and I could see why: base to tip, I watched his shaft bulge outwards, veins visibly straining and writhing beneath the creaking, overtaxed skin.

Thank gods we're in the shower! I thought, slack-jawed and dazed by the spectacle. His little body arched backwards, head thumping against the shower wall. With his legs splayed around his sac, holding onto the base for dear life, he looked as though he were riding a mechanical bull.

His balls drew hard and tight against me, and he came. He splattered against the ceiling, and within moments there was more of his spunk on us than there actually was water. He was making this high-pitched, keening whine, the sort that ferals make when they're inside and they want to go outside, and that's the only way they can express their existential, soul-wrenching longing.

Mine had lasted, maybe, about twenty seconds, and I counted myself among the luckiest humans that have ever lived because of it. Myles was well into his second minute before his death-grip around my waist began to finally relax, before his foxhood began to droop, before his knot showed the first signs of going down.

I stared down at him lovingly, sliding one hand up to his back to cradle him when his body went limp. With a slight moan of regret (and one final gasp of joy), I pulled him higher, my own flagging erection popping free. His head flopped onto my shoulder, and moving like a marionette with half its string's cut, he tossed his arms around my shoulders and sighed.

"And how was that for you?" I whispered into his ear, licking my lips, tasting his saltiness.

He inhaled raggedly and sighed again, both hands drawing little hearts all over my back. I laughed, rotating slowly in the shower, starting what would no doubt be a very long and involved process of, you know, actually getting clean. "I'm sorry," I grinned, trying to keep my voice level. "That looked like it hurt. I'll never do it again."

Those blunt little claws had never seemed to sharp, to say nothing of the teeth closing firmly on my ear. I twitched and laughed again. "Ok, maybe once. If you're good."

---

We stayed in there until the hot water finally gave out, which was thankfully about another twenty minutes. We'd only just finished getting ourselves actually properly soaped off, and had actually ended up coming full circle and were halfway towards getting frisky again, when the temperature started to plummet. I was a little bit grateful when I shut the water off, because, and I'm being honest here: I don't think I had the strength left. Myles is the engine of a Bugatti Veyron stuck in the body of a city bus, and I'd been riding that bus for a night and a day.

It's early. My metaphors are exhausted.

Even towelling eachother off, we'd ended up making out. I gallantly volunteered to get all of his hard-to-reach areas fluffy and dry, and that had turned into a very hands-on exploration of his nethers, and maybe getting a little too touchy-feely with his tail. His counter-proposal started with him standing on the counter, tousling my hair and thumping me in the chest with his sheath, and ended up with him attempting to dry off my feet but certain parts of me once again found themselves trapped in his muzzle. It was the weirdest moment of my life, stroking the back of his head and telling him to, please, have mercy and let me get some breakfast first.

This was going to be a very weird sleeping arrangement.

A minute later I was very thankful for my rote habits. I'd wrapped a towel around my waist and opened the door, heading out to go search for still more clean clothing. The kitchen still smelled of coffee, the floor was still clean, and sure enough, my dresser was still full. I had to find some way to make it up to him. Maybe some more of those pink panties he seemed to enjoy...

"Hey, dude," Ricky said.

"'Sup?" James rumbled.

I froze.

I turned.

I waved.

"Hi."

Ricky, Lacuna Coyle's squirrel drummer, and James the guitarist (whom I had since learned was actually a northern puma), were standing by the bookshelves, going through my recently-cleaned selection of DVDs. They each held a couple cases, but they were staring at me with open amusement.

"How... long have you been here?" I asked, really wishing the towel was bigger.

"We came back with Myles," Ricky said quickly. "Met him at the truck stop for coffee, brought us back here, hope that's ok."

"Y-yes," I said weakly. "Uhm... he didn't tell me."

"No shit, he can't talk."

I glanced back at the bathroom. The door was closed, and I could hear some minor commotion beyond. Oh, fuck, if he's laughing I'm gonna kick his ass.

"Yeah. That's true. No problem. Uhm... coffee?"

"Had some," James growled, his default manner of speech. "Made more."

I was pulling clothes out of the dresser quickly, trying not to bend over and lose my towel, when icy fingers gripped my heart. "Did you-" I started to ask, but there was no way to finish that question. How do you ask two musicians that you've really only met twice before, hey, did you hear the incredibly loud and vigorous bout of sex just now? Because... sorry. Yeah, lacks force.

Ricky's grin was enough of an answer for me. I could count his molars. James just winked.

"I'll be... uhm... back in... uhm... one second."

Arm full of clothes, I marched back into the bathroom and, sure enough, there was Myles, stark naked on a bath mat, hands clutched to his midsection, nearly herniating himself with hilarity. I kicked crossly at his tail, and he just looked up at me, looked at my towel, looked out the door behind me, and tumbled head over heels back into mirth.

"I hate you," I said lovingly, rolling my eyes and closing the door.