Silas' Feral Adventure
A small story I wrote from a prompt during a writing game with a friend. Silas' feral adventure!
He sniffed, long and deep. Ahh, he thought; finally. A mate.
It had been a long winter, and Silas had been itching to find a vixen suitable to his tastes. He scratched at the loincloth covering his pelvis, his arousal growing steadily more prevalent as he neared the source of his target smell. Being anthropomorphic came with it's benefits, he had to agree, but finding companionship was not one of them. Between the ire he and his kin had been exposed to from their feral cousins - and his own diminished masculinity - this winter had been hard for Silas.
In fact, life had been hard for him. From birth, he had been a runt. His diminutive stature meant he had to use his mind to survive; his brothers had relied on their hunter's instinct and powerful bodies, leaving him to pick up the scraps and foster his ingenuity. He had managed to scrape out his own living in the shadow of his peers, and up until now it had served him well.
Then, he came of breeding age. Bidding farewell to their mother, he and his siblings left the den, for good. Each set out on their own path to find a mate and build a family of their own. Silas used the knowledge he had gained through conversing with other animals to head in the direction of the closest family of anthropomorphic foxes. Hopefully, he thought, they'd have a daughter. One benefit of the rarity of this genetic trait the two families shared was that it made them desperate; Silas hoped this would be enough to convince a young vixen to lay with him. And - should all go well - bear his children.
Silas' nose prickled. He could smell the family now, definitely anthromorphs... One, two.. Three in total, and one of them... Yes. His loincloth tightened, a bulk straining against the thin fabric. A vixen; and in heat. He picked up his pace. The scent was strong; incredibly so. He thought to himself, his footfalls making thudding noises that echoed off the surrounding trees. This vixen smelled intoxicating. Either she had been in heat for a while and was getting increasingly desperate as the mating season rolled on, or she was a particularly enticing specimen. Silas' tongue lolled slightly from his mouth, but he was lost in his dream world. The vixen, her beautiful face looking at him, accepting him. Strutting over to him, his arms embracing her as her muzzle pressed against his...
A rabid growl stopped Silas dead in his tracks, struggling not to trip over himself. From a pair of close bushes came a fox; a feral. Silas bit his lip, his mind racing. He held up his hands, a sign of submission. The feral looked terrifying; ratty, desperate. Silas saw his lust evident between the feral's legs, obviously tracking the same female he was. Yet, Silas saw no malice in the feral's eyes. No hate, no distaste that was usually achingly present in the eyes of his less-developed kin. This fox had something else in it's eyes, something more passionate...
Silas kept his hands raised, looking at the feral's legs as to avoid the challenge a direct line of sight issued. He backed off, stepping through bushes until the feral's burning eyes could no longer see him. He turned tail, running briskly off into the undergrowth and cursing his luck under his breath. Of course another male would be after the vixen... The smell was amazing. Too good, he thought, anger piercing his thoughts. Too good for him. Finding a hollow suitable for his needs, Silas shuffled inside to rest until morning. Hopefully, he thought, he'd find a mate eventually. He yawned, weariness relaxing his muscles and lulling him into a deep sleep...
The vixen licked her lips, delicate hands running over Silas' body as they rolled in the hollow. He reached out for her, but she took hold of his waist, flipping him over and pressing his arms into the ground. She ran her soft muzzle over the lithe musculature of his back, tongue flicking to expertly tease and excite his body. She rested her hind legs on top of his, pressing him down while rubbing her own body on top of his. Silas couldn't help himself, and he moaned deeply against the ground as her ministrations brought his member to full attention. It rubbed against the ground, every small thrust of his partner's hips pressing it against the ground, bringing him threateningly close to the edge... Thrusting... His partner's thrusting... Hot breath on his ear, rough growls filling his mind... Growls...
Silas' eyes lazily opened, staring directly at the ground. Funny, he thought. He didn't remember going to bed like this. Suddenly, his body was hit with wave after wave of intense feeling, radiating from his behind. He gave an autonomous moan, his face flushing and muscles tensing. He tried to move, but he was pinned. He blinked his eyes furiously, body awaking and coming to full attention. The body pressing him down growled, breathing heavily into his ear and licking his shoulder between thrusts. Silas looked behind him as best he could, seeing a plantigrade body on top of him, crotch meeting his ass. He saw the animal's red fur, it's powerful hips thrusting again and again... He moaned, louder this time, feeling the feral's member stretching out his ass, Silas helplessly moaning beneath. He felt his own rod tighten against the ground, the sensations too much for him. After more tantalizing thrusts and breathy moans, Silas felt his whole body buck as waves of pleasure overcame him, his member spraying seed against the ground and his hole clenching like a vixen in heat. He fully submitted to the feral, feeling the previously ever-present itch in his crotch ebb away. His nose was assaulted with the smell of his own cum and the feral sex, filling him with pleasure.
He sniffed, long and deep.