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Megan turned the ticket over and over in her hands while sitting in her reading nook in the corner of her bedroom. The ticket was a rectangle of laminated grey cardstock with the date and time of the spring dance printed in black on one side. "Admit one" it proclaimed in an ornate script-like font along with "Tickets $10 or $15 at the door", on a background motif of gears and pistons. The other side was blank. She flipped it over and over. Dance, no dance. Dance, no dance.

"Megan! Dinner!" her father's voice called from someplace downstairs.

She stared at the front side of the ticket for a few more moments. One week away. Far too late to put together any sort of theme costume, as she and Red had initially talked about. But she had told him that she wanted to go with him. And she had meant it, too. But the plan of how to explain this to her parents was not coming together. She could hear, in her head, every response her mother would make to every strategy she could think of. Red was a squirrel, she was a skunk. It would never work in her mother's reality, and if there was no future in it, why even start? It's not like I'm asking to marry him, she thought. And her mother's expected response: well then what are you asking to do with him? No direct suggestion, of course. But the implication would be enough. Her father wouldn't say anything.

"Megan?" called her father again. She realized she had been staring at the ticket and hastily got herself to her feet. She put it on her desk as she passed, but stopped in her doorway, looked back. Then she grabbed it again, and headed out.

"Coming, dad!" she called from the hall before thumping down the carpeted steps.

Dinner had already begun when she got there-- her mother was serving herself salad from a big bowl in the center and her father was cutting up a chicken breast on his plate. Her own chicken breast lay waiting for her on her plate on a bed of rice pilaf. She pulled out her chair and sat, placing the ticket face down next to her fork.

"You all right, hon?" asked her dad.

"Yeah, dad, sorry. I was in the middle of some reading."

"Homework?"

"Yeah."

She moved to pick up her fork and her father pointed at the ticket. "What's that? Looks like a bookmark."

She hesitated, going through all the angles and options in her mind again. Nothing seemed to click, though, so she decided to just plow forward. She flipped it over and held it up briefly. "There's a, um, school dance next Saturday night. I was going to ask if someone could give me a ride there. And back, too, I guess. The times are on here." She passed it to her dad.

Her mother furrowed her brow. "A dance? May I see that?"

Her father passed the ticket along, giving Megan a single raised eyebrow while her mother studied the ticket.

"What is this Steampunk?"

"It's the theme," explained Megan.

"What does it mean? Some kind of violent music and crazy fur shaving?"

"No, mom. It's a kind of style. Like uhm, past meets future. Frilly old-fashioned clothes and gears and clockwork and..." she could tell her mother wasn't getting it. "I have some books--"

Her mother waved it off. "Never mind. If the school approved it, I'm sure it's fine. But it's a dance."

"Yes?" said Megan, who had not touched her dinner yet. She expected her mother to continue.

"You've said you don't like dances, don't want to go to them. Why the change of heart?" reminded her mother.

"My friends are all going," claimed Megan, which was at least mostly true.

"Those ones in the library?"

Megan nodded.

"I don't like them. Playing boardgames and reading comic books is fine when you're little but you're nearly a grown woman now, Megan. This is the time when you'll be making connections that will last your whole life. Wellstone attracts some of the very best students from some very important families," said her mother before eating more of her salad.

Megan picked up her utensils and began slicing up her chicken. She had heard this lecture before. Her mother never came out and said it plainly, of course, but the implication was always there. We have sacrificed to give you this opportunity. Why aren't you making friends with the rich kids? She decided not to take the bait "So, will you drive me, dad?" she asked, turning to look at her silent father.

He in turn looked to his mate, who scowled back at him. He turned back to Megan and asked, "Do you have a date?"

Wrong question, dad, Megan sighed inwardly. He probably just wanted to get out of the corner he found himself in.

Her mother pounced, of course. "Did someone ask you to go with them and buy you this ticket? It says it cost 10 dollars."

"I bought it," Megan lied.

Her mother clucked her tongue. "When we were your age it wasn't done like that."

"Everyone does it now," shrugged Megan, as if she were the expert. "I could ask a boy I liked, too."

Her mother shook her head. "One of those library boys?"

"Maybe," said Megan, raising her muzzle and meeting her mother's gaze.

"You're not going without a proper escort."

"What does that even mean? Why can't I go with one of my friends?"

Her mother ignored the question and turned to her father. "Are we still invited to that party at the Kohn's tomorrow night?"

Her father said, "We never actually RSVP'd, so..."

"I think we should go."

"Mom..." protested Megan while rubbing her forehead as if she head a headache.

"All right. I'll call Johnathan after dinner and let him know," said her father, not looking at Megan.

Megan narrowed her eyes. "I know what you're planning, mom."

"Your green dress, with the floral accents, I think, Megan. The party isn't formal, but we should still look good."

Megan made an exasperated growling noise and flared her tail. "I already..." she started, but stopped herself. "I don't need your help getting a date, mother!"

Her mother showed no signs of agitation, which made Megan even more angry. She simply said, "You'll thank me, someday," and returned serenely to her dinner.

Megan attacked hers, eating quickly so that she could be excused.

*****

Megan slammed the door to her room shut behind her and fell into her desk chair with a whump, causing it to squeak. She woke her computer up and opened her chat messenger. Several of her online friends appeared to be active, including Red.

Megaskunk995: Red?

Megan waited, and after a minute, the chat pane showed that Red was typing. She glanced at her webcam, but didn't turn it on. Probably for the best, as she found it easier to consider her words carefully when typing rather than talking. Besides, the last time she had turned on that camera things had got out of hand.

Dragonsqrl: Hey Megan! What's up?

Megaskunk995: So I told them about the dance.

Dragonsqrl: And???

Megaskunk995: And mom won't let me go without a PROPER escort.

Megaskunk995: In her words.

Dragonsqrl: I guess I'm not a PROPER escort huh

Megaskunk995: Not to her. Kind of what I figured.

Dragonsqrl: Should I come kidnap you next Saturday? My dad would totally be on board for that I think.

Megaskunk995: She'd probably call the police

Dragonsqrl: Oh

Megaskunk995: It gets worse

Dragonsqrl: ??

Megaskunk995: She's trying to set me up with this guy.

Dragonsqrl: Which guy?

Megaskunk995: I'm not even sure which one. My dad has a bunch of friends from like college. Skunk fraternity. They have these parties sometimes still at one guy's huge house. All of a sudden my mom wants to go after I told her about the dance.

Dragonsqrl: So she's setting you up with one of your dad's old friends?

Megaskunk995: EWW. No. A bunch of them have kids my age. We used to all play together

Dragonsqrl: This is that skunk society thing you were talking about?

Megaskunk995: Yup

Dragonsqrl: You don't play with them anymore?

Megaskunk995: A lot of them are nasty and I was always left out so I just stayed out and read in the library when we would go

Dragonsqrl: Library? Like Colonel Mustard did it in the Library with the Lead Pipe?

Megaskunk995: Oh yeah. They're totally rich.

Dragonsqrl: Do any go to Wellstone?

Megaskunk995: A couple. Do you know Joey Prescott? He's your year.

Dragonsqrl: I think so. He's in my math class? I dunno.

Dragonsqrl: So

Dragonsqrl: Sounds like you have to take Joey to the dance instead of me

Megaskunk995: Maybe. Or I could just not go

Dragonsqrl: You should go

Megaskunk995: Why?

Dragonsqrl: Because we'll still both be there at the same time. Your mom can't stop me from dancing with you

Dragonsqrl: NO ONE CAN STOP ME MUAHAHAHAA

Megaskunk995: LOL

Megaskunk995: I thought you wanted to go walk around and look at stars instead of dance.

Dragonsqrl: We can do that too.

Dragonsqrl: Also

Dragonsqrl: Instead.

Megaskunk995: And what about my date?

Dragonsqrl: They all ditched you right? You can ditch him

Megaskunk995: Not exactly

Dragonsqrl: I dunno maybe you can tell him what's up? He might be cool with it

Megaskunk995: Would you?

Dragonsqrl: Would I what?

Megaskunk995: Be cool with it.

Dragonsqrl: I guess not

Megaskunk995: He probably won't want to go with me anyway.

Dragonsqrl: Why not? I want to go with you

Megaskunk995: I know. But these guys can probably have whatever they want and

Megan stopped typing, mid-response. She found she couldn't continue her thought. Or rather, she had already continued her thought to its logical conclusion and found she had no desire to type it, or say it, or have the ensuing discussion with Red or anyone else. She backspaced it out, but couldn't do the same for her thoughts.

Megaskunk995: I know. I gtg. I'll tell you how it went on Monday ok?

Dragonsqrl: Ok *hug*

Megan sent a virtual hug in return and signed out of the messenger application, but remained staring at her screen until it went back to sleep.

*****

Megan disliked the parties at Mr. Kohn's house. There were too many people, too much noise, too many names to remember. When she did have to go, she often hid in their library, just as she had told Red. There was a necessary amount of greetings and questions and generally being on display beforehand that she had to endure, but she could be all smiles and grace for a little while, if she knew she would have the library to herself afterward.

Driving past the gate on Sunday evening, she felt the now familiar dread in the pit of her stomach. The windows glowed in the dusk in a way that should have been inviting, but Megan found herself wishing she was six instead of fifteen. Wishing she could go play on the amazing playground set that used to be in the side yard. She was almost a woman, her mother had said. Packaged in her green dress with matching polished malachite earrings, ready to be shown off like a gift for a rich almost a man.

Megan had barely spoken to her parents since dinner the night before, and now she found herself wiping tears from the corners of her dark eyes as her father parked along the long driveway. She managed to shake off the teary feeling by the time they had walked to the front door, and she practiced her party smile.

The door opened, spilling light and noise onto the marble steps. "Hey! Rhia! Chris! Megan! I'm so glad you all could make it," said the tall lady skunk who answered the door, champagne flute in one hand.

Her father answered, "Sorry about the late RSVP, V."

Vivian Kohn waved it off with her non-flute-holding hand. "No worries. Half of these people don't bother. RSVP is dead. Besides, you three are always welcome." She stood back away from the threshold to allow them entry.

Megan's father led the way inside and Vivian shut the door behind them.

"Hope you all are hungry! Johnathan went a little nuts this time. Enjoy!" she said.

"Vivian, can I borrow you for a minute?" asked Megan's mother.

"Of course! Come on, we'll get out of this echoing foyer," said Vivian, leading Megan's mother away to the left. Megan wasn't pulled along too, and she wasn't about to volunteer to be part of the conspiracy she assumed was being plotted. She headed towards the dinner buffet, intrigued by what "a little nuts" might mean. Her father followed her.

He caught up and she said to him quietly. "She's selling me off right now, right?"

Her father sighed. "It's not like that, Meg."

"Feels like it to me, dad."

"She just wants you to have all this," he waved around with one hand.

Megan frowned, then said, "I'll settle for some of that turkey," pointing at the buffet.

Her father grinned and nodded, glad for the change of subject. "I'm glad I skipped lunch!" he said, grabbing a plate from a stack at one end. Before he could start browsing, though, another of his old frat brothers showed up and they performed a complex handshake before embracing. Megan left them to it and fixed herself a plate.

Megan made her way through the dining room, facing the social gauntlet from the other adults, answering their questions, accepting their compliments with modesty, asking after their own kits and lives. It had become like a play to her. The same lines, the same performance. How much did they remember of what she said?

She made it to the other end of the room and slipped out the door that led to the patio. There were still people out here, but the noise and press of so many mephitine bodies and bushy tails was gone. She sat at one of the wrought iron tables and examined her as-yet untouched plate of dinner.

As she started to eat, the seat across from her was claimed by a slim but mature skunk in a red dress. The lady set her wine glass down and said, "Hi, Megan, right? Chris and Rhia's girl?"

Megan nodded, "Yes, ma'am," and tried to call up a name from her memory for this woman. It refused to surface.

She didn't seem to mind that Megan didn't remember her. She said, "Oh, call me Donna, not ma'am. You're old enough! You're at Wellstone now, right?"

"Yes, ma'am," repeated Megan.

"Did you know my Joey just transferred there? He's in tenth grade. Have you seen him around?"

"Maybe at lunch a couple times-- I'm in ninth grade, so we don't, you know, have any classes in common or whatever."

"Oh, yes, of course not. Do you like it there? He tells me he hardly ever sees another skunkish face!"

"Oh! Yes, very much. I love it there."

"That is so great to hear, Megan. Joey is really into computers and he loves the program at Wellstone. Much better than Holbrook, where he was last year."

Megan had no idea what was this woman going on about. "I'm um, glad to hear it. I'm in a chemistry track," she offered, wondering what had happened with Mrs. Kohn. Was she being set up with someone else's son now? Was Joey the backup plan?

"Chemistry? That's excellent. What do you plan to study in college?"

"Oh, well, I'd like to go to med school."

"That's what I like to hear, Megan. Go for the gold! Rhia must be so proud."

Megan forced a smile. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Joey tells me there's a dance this Saturday!"

Here it comes, Megan thought. She looked around, expecting Joey to be lurking someplace nearby.

"Uh, yes. That's right," Megan said.

"Are you going?"

"Yep!" nodded Megan with as much bubbly enthusiasm as she could simulate.

"So is Joey!" said Donna brightly. She lowered her voice and said, "Don't tell him I told you this, but he's really really shy around girls. I think he might have wanted to ask you to go with him, but, well, maybe next dance, hmm?"

Megan just nodded, trying to keep her face blank.

The woman picked up her glass, and took a drink before standing up. "It was lovely to chat with you, dear. If you see Joey there, say hello! I'm sure you kids all know each other already, though."

Megan nodded and Donna left Megan to her dinner. Megan felt as if she had just been interviewed. She knew Joey. Shy? He was the one always trying to look up her dress on the playground when they were little. She wondered if he was still obsessed with girls' underwear. He was almost certainly here, someplace. The teens usually congregated in the sitting room, or maybe it was the drawing room. She couldn't remember the hoity-toity name for it. It was the opulent equivalent of her own house's den. It had the enormous flatscreen television and the video games and the stereo and the wet bar that was full of soda and not alcohol. She usually avoided it.

Finishing her meal, she carried the plate to the kitchen, where there were some uniformed caterers (all ferrets) busy prepping food. One took her plate, shooing her out of the kitchen in a rush. Oops, she thought. Forgot you're not supposed to bother the help.

She retreated from the sounds of the party to the back corner of the house. To the library. She had discovered that the Kohns had an impressive collection of scientific texts- many filled with gloriously detailed plates. Botanical almanacs, biology and anatomy reference, all from the previous century. She wasn't sure if they owned them out of interest in the subject or just because they were something you were expected to own if you had a library like this in your mansion. She loved paging through them in the quiet, with the library scent all around her- paper, bookbinding glue, leather, varnish. One day, she thought, she'd have a library like this. To hell with the rest of the house.

She crossed the central hand-woven carpet to the shelves and began looking at the titles on the spines. She wanted something in astronomy tonight, she thought. Before she could find the right shelf, though, she heard someone shift on a leather couch behind her.

"Hey, Megan," he said. She had walked right past him somehow. Or perhaps he had been lying down? Lying in wait for her, no doubt. She turned.

"Foster?" she asked, though she knew who it was.

He nodded, smiling.

He sat in the middle of the couch, with his arms stretched out along the back in both directions. It made the couch look like some kind of super-wide throne. He was dressed in charcoal slacks and a matching charcoal vest over a white oxford. The vest and shirt gave the impression of a negative image of the usual white-on-black skunk stripe pattern that his tail displayed as it rested over the back of the couch behind him.

Megan couldn't help but stare at him. Most skunks, herself definitely included, tended to be bottom-heavy. Some females (like Donna) were able to starve themselves into proportions usually reserved for canine species, but it was ultimately a losing battle. Foster Kohn defied convention, however, and at 17 was somehow broader in the chest and shoulders than in his waist. He was still bulky, no question, but it gave a powerful impression rather than a soft one. Appealing, she had to admit. Megan forced herself to blink and scan the library briefly for others.

She returned her gaze to the male. "Waiting for me?" she asked without the lilt of false modesty. Of course he was.

He nodded again. "Mom said you'd be hiding in here, like always."

Megan shrugged and turned away, scanning the book spines again. "Am I not supposed to be in here?"

"No, no, it's fine. Though I don't know why you don't come hang out with everyone."

She whiffled her tail and said, "I like it in here. If I lived here I'd spend all my time in this room."

"Heh. I heard you spend a lot of time in the library at Wellstone too."

She turned and looked at him. "Why is everyone so interested in my academic... whatever all of a sudden? First Joey's mom wants to hear about my college plans and now you?"

He flipped his hands up off the leather and rolled his eyes and moved to get up from the couch. "Look, I'm sorry. Your mom talked to my mom, and my mom talked to me, and there's something about a dance at Wellstone that you need a date for."

"And you said, sure, fine, love to? I've totally had my eye on that little hottie for years!"

Foster held up his hands. "Whoa. Issues. Can we start over?"

"From what? You haven't really talked to me since we were like 10, Foster."

"Well, whose fault is that? You're always hiding." He took a step closer. He was taller than her, and he was wearing some kind of cologne, something that complemented his natural skunk odor. Or maybe it was just him. She resented the fact that she liked it.

"Your other friends didn't like me. Don't like me. Like I don't belong here. I got tired of it. You never cared before."

"I'm sorry," he said, and offered her a hand. She hesitated, then put her hand in his. He clasped it between both of his and said, "I liked you."

Megan sputtered a laugh. "Not as much as you liked Lily! And Dahlia, and..."

Foster let her hand go and frowned. "It's not a contest."

"It felt like it. Anyway, you don't have to do this. I'm kinda mad at mom for trying to set us up."

"Yeah I'm getting that."

"I have a date, you know. But he's not a skunk, so mom would lose it if I told her."

"Huh."

"Surprised?"

"A little, yeah. Anyway, so let me get this straight. You want me to take you to this dance so you can hook up with him there without your mom knowing?"

Megan folded her arms and explained, "No. All I asked for was a ride from my dad, alone. She said I needed a 'proper escort'."

"And here I am."

She nodded. "Here you are. Sorry."

"Ok, I'll do it."

Megan stared. "What?"

"I said I'll do it. I'll be your 'proper escort'. Pick you up in the Maserati, take you to the dance, and take you back home again. Do I need a tux or something for this?"

"What... why?"

"I said I liked you," said Foster with an overdramatic doe-eyed look.

Megan shook her head. "Yeah, no. I don't buy it."

"Cynical. Maybe I want a BJ in the back of the Maserati?" he offered.

"More believable," said Megan. And you'd get it, she thought, despite immediately feeling guilty. "But no."

"But it's still on the table?"

She laughed, despite feeling that she should want to slap him.

"All right, try this then: you might not be the only one who's into someone your parents wouldn't like."

Megan raised an eyebrow. "Some girl at Wellstone?"

Foster tapped the side of his nose.

"Anyone I might know?"

Foster shrugged.

"Don't want to say?"

He just smiled and whiffled his tail.

"Ok. Ok, yeah. Fine. Good! Deal."

Foster offered his hand again, and Megan took it, this time sealing the arrangement with a handshake. He said, "You should come back to the media room with me."

"Why?"

"If we're going to a dance together we should look as if we like each other."

"Won't your secret girlfriend find out?"

"Don't worry about that."

"Hmmph. All right."

"You know, you might enjoy hanging out with us for a change," he suggested as he led her from the library by the hand.

*****

Red sat with his knees up on the floor in a corner of Room 210. It was the warmest corner in the room since his left shoulder was up against the window in the full late afternoon sun, and his right shoulder was up against Megan's. The room was full and buzzing with normal after school business, but their corner was like a little bubble of relative privacy.

"I know what you mean," Red was saying.

"You do, really?" Megan sounded doubtful.

"Sure, I mean, I've been here since fourth grade. Do you know Mark Schwarzpfoten?"

"No," said Megan, sounding confused.

"He's my year, so I guess you wouldn't see him much. Anyway, back in fourth grade, he invited everyone to his house for his birthday. I was like 10, right? I brought a present, ate pizza and cake, had a good time. I remember thinking he had some really neat toys. Like this set of wooden blocks with holes and ramps for marbles to go in. I think I played with those for like an hour while I was there. Nagged my mom for a set when I got home and never got it. Heh."

"Ok?" Megan asked, trying to follow Red's story.

"Sorry. So it wasn't until a few years later that it dawned on me. Mark's house was huge. Like this place you went yesterday. Built like a maze, I thought. I remember wandering upstairs and finding some kind of like catwalk that went over the big living room. And then there was the outside! They had their own orchard. Apples. And this pool that was like... made out of actual stone. Like it wasn't that bright blue color most pools are."

"Have you been back to Mark's house since then?"

"Oh, no. We're not really friends anymore."

"Yeah," said Megan, lacing her paws together atop her bent knees.

"So what's he like?" Red asked.

Megan shrugged. "Foster? He was kind of bossy when we were little. Always had to be his game we played, you know? But I think he's better now. He seemed really grown up last night."

"So you've known him a long time, huh?"

"We would visit the Kohn's three or four times a year as far back as I can remember, so yeah."

"Sounds like fun!"

"It used to be," said Megan, looking up at the ceiling tiles.

Red turned his head and nosed her shoulder. "Not anymore, though?"

Megan shook her head. "I don't know when it changed. When we were all just kits, that's like... that's all we were. Bunch of little skunks playing together. I used to love the playground set thing they had in the side yard. And yeah Foster usually got what he wanted, but that made sense-- it was his house. And then, I don't know. At some point people started picking sides, I guess. Like in PE? Except it wasn't teams. It was In and Out. Foster was In, of course. But I was most definitely Out."

Red slipped an arm around Megan's shoulder and squeezed. "Well that sucks."

Megan nodded. "I tried to ignore it, but every time I went, they were nasty to me, making fun of whatever I wore, keeping me out of whatever they were doing. Whispering. Laughing."

"Foster too?"

"No, but he didn't try to stop it, either. He could have, if he wanted. So I just decided to stay Out. Everyone was happier that way."

"Except you."

Megan shrugged again. "I had other friends in my own neighborhood. We didn't go there that often."

"I guess I'm glad you don't like him very much," Red laughed.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, uh, I mean, he's a skunk, a year older than me, has his license, your mom likes him..."

Megan groaned.

"... AND he's picking you up in a Maserati for crying out loud. I can't compete with that. Are you sure he's meeting someone else at the dance? What if he really does have the hots for you?"

Megan snorted a derisive laugh.

"Aw, c'mon, I have the hots for you. You saying I have bad taste?"

"No, I... I guess I'm saying if he wanted me he wouldn't need our moms to set us up. He could've just asked."

"Well, I'm glad he's helping us out. You'll have to introduce me so I can thank him!"

Megan grumbled, "If he doesn't immediately disappear for his mystery hook-up."

"So he didn't give you any clue about who it might be?"

"Not one. He doesn't want it getting back to his mom and dad, whoever it is."

"Man. I almost want to follow him now, and find out."

"Oh that sounds like a great way to spend the evening, Red."

Red chittered a laugh. "I said almost," he assured her before nosing her shoulder again. "Aren't you curious?"

"Yes," Megan admitted. "But he's my ride home, so I'm not going to try to make him mad."

Red slapped his forehead. "Oh nuts, I got it!"

"What?"

"He's gay! His parents would flip out, right?"

Megan shook her head. "No, I don't think so."

"It fits, though."

"I've um, seen him. With females. Not gay, sorry."

"What, like kissing?"

"More than tha-at," said Megan in a sing-song voice.

"Wow! Thought you said you always hung out in the library?"

"Yeah, well, last year I walked in on Foster and Lily together in one of the big overstuffed chairs in the library. As in, actually going at it. They just kept right on... anyway. I could tell from Lily's little smirk that it was her idea. To invade my hiding place, I guess. And it worked. I never sat in that chair again."

"She sounds pleasant."

"She reminds me of Beth."

"Poor Foster," said Red.

Megan snorted again.

*****

Red stood on the granite steps outside the main door to the gymnasium building with his paws stuffed in the pockets of one of his dad's old black sport jackets. It smelled like his dad's cologne. He was glad to have it, not just because it looked good on him, but also because the spring evening was turning chilly. He scanned the driveway as it came down the hill from the road, but all he saw was headlights in the rapidly fading twilight. Behind him the music from the gym itself washed out of the propped-open doors like a warm breeze. It was impossible to talk to anyone inside, except in the brief pauses between tracks.

Harry stood next to him on the steps, dressed in an unapologetic red smoking jacket and white dress shirt, with charcoal dress slacks that matched the oversized lapels of the jacket. He said to Red, "It's getting too dark to see, squirrel. And I'm missing prime scope-out time. I got to be seen, you know?"

Red looked to his side at the black buck. "You look like a demon prince or something in that thing."

Harry nodded. "That's the idea."

Red said, "Not really steampunk, though."

"You see anyone paying attention to the stupid theme? I mean, at least we're dressed up, right?"

Red nodded, returning to scanning the line of arriving cars. "They're late."

"You worried?"

Red shrugged. "Maybe."

Harry patted him on the back. "Let's go inside to wait. Less nerve-wracking for you. Maybe you can find someone to dance with, like a warm-up."

"I thought you wanted to see the car?"

"Not this much. Besides, it's a Maserati. If you squint it looks like a freaking Audi, not a spaceship. I'm going in."

Red nodded. "That's fine. I'll just wait a little longer."

Harry hooked his arm around Red's elbow and began dragging him inside. "Come on, you look desperate. You'll see them when they walk in."

Red chittered, but allowed himself to be pulled inside.

*****

Megan had told Foster that she thought the heated leather seats were "nice", but in reality she was debating whether or not she ever wanted to get out of his car. It was so soft and so warm and enveloping. And so smooth- her violet satin dress kept sliding against the buttery surface such that she had little choice but to sink down into an undignified but satisfying slouch.

If Foster minded or even noticed her posture it was unclear. He was piloting the Maserati with one hand on the wheel and the other resting casually on the center console. The ride was so smooth it almost seemed to drive itself but he kept his eyes on the road, for the most part. It wasn't exactly his, he had explained as they had pulled away from her house; his dad had bought it, but he trusted Foster to drive it on certain occasions and this counted as an occasion.

Getting out of Megan's house had been somewhat difficult-- Megan almost thought her mother was going to the dance with Foster instead of her, the way she had fawned over him, made sure he had a drink and a chat. She asked after his parents (who they had just seen six days ago), school, his college plans. Foster had been perfectly polite with her, but when they had finally got into the car and backed out of the driveway he had said, "Whoo boy, thought I was going to end up chained up in your basement for a minute!" with a wry smile. She had laughed, easily disarmed.

He talked easily, asking her questions about Wellstone, comparing her experiences with his at Devon-Suffolk Prep. Made a little good-natured fun of Wellstone's football performance, not that Megan had any actual interest in football. As soon as they got onto the freeway, however, he had looked over at her and asked, "You want me to open her up a little?"

She had nodded yes, of course. He changed lanes to the far left rapidly, and then punched the throttle, sending her sliding back into the seat in an exhilarating rush. She wasn't sure what speed they were going before he had to brake to keep from mowing down other drivers in the left lane. After that they had lapsed into silence, listening to Foster's music collection.

Megan glanced at the glowing blue radio console, noting that the dance had started 45 minutes prior. They were off the freeway, though, heading towards the school. She roused herself out of the heated-seat-induced torpor and said, "Mmn. We're late."

Foster nodded. "A little. Can't make a proper entrance without everyone else already there to see it, right?"

"I guess. Hope Red's not worried. And I hope they're still selling door tickets when we get there."

"I'm sure it'll be fine, babe," said Foster. Not once had he asked Megan about Red, and didn't seem keen to start now.

Megan looked him over for at least the twentieth time already that evening. He was wearing a perfectly tailored grey suit jacket and light blue dress shirt with no tie and the collar popped open. Continuing the informal theme, his lower half was wrapped in a pair of tight dark blue jeans, cinched at his waist by an antique-looking brown leather belt. He looked like something out of a magazine, but at the same time gave off a vibe that said he just threw on whatever was handy and it had just worked. Megan envied him-- the choice of her own dress had been an agonizing ordeal involving five stores and she still didn't really feel comfortable in it. The black satin sash that tied in a big bow behind her back was the only part she really liked. The bust didn't quite fit her right-- she had to keep adjusting it when she thought Foster wasn't watching.

Besides the envy, however, there was another more troubling issue. She wasn't honestly sure what she would do if he tried anything with her. She didn't think he would, but there was definitely a voice inside her head that kept asking her what she would do if he did, and the voice sounded like it really wanted him to try. Trapped inside the car with him she tried to focus on the smell of the leather seats or the car itself, anything but his smell. It was doing funny things to her stomach. They were both skunks, and used to their own particular nearly sulfurous undertone, but he carried something more subtly musky and powerful-- she had scented it back in the library on Sunday.

She smoothed her palms over her dress and tried to banish carnal images from her head.

They turned onto the main road through campus and Foster said, "Looks like a damned traffic jam. Guess we're not that late, huh?"

Megan looked-- there was indeed a line of cars heading down the hill to the gym. People were getting dropped off at the doors. She said, "Go past, and turn at the next entrance. We can park near the primary school and just walk."

"Good call," said Foster, weaving quickly around the line of cars in the wrong lane as soon as it was clear and gunning the engine until he was past.

He parked in the dark lot and got out quickly, coming around to Megan's side before she could get out. She wasn't expecting the gesture, and already had her door open and one foot on the ground, but he appeared and offered his hand. She took it, and she bit back a squeak as he gave her a strong, warm pull to help her out of the low-to-the-ground seat. She smoothed down her skirt again and checked her bow while he closed the door and clicked his remote, making the car flash and chirp once. Then he offered his hand again, and she readily took it.

As they walked over the grass in the chilly dark he said, "We should dance a little when we get there."

"Hmm? Why? I thought you were going to meet someone."

"You don't want to dance with me?"

"I didn't say that."

"Good. I'd like to have a dance with you. You know, before you ditch me," Foster said, grinning.

Megan tittered. "You're being silly."

"Not at all, babe. I mean, we came together and it would be weird if we weren't seen dancing at least a little by the right people."

"Oh," said Megan. "Yeah. That makes sense."

"But also, I do want one dance with you. Something slow, maybe? For me?" he asked, squeezing her paw.

Megan blushed, the tingling feeling under the dark fur of her face thankfully invisible. She said, "Ok," and squeezed back.

*****

Aside from the the decorations scattered around the gym (mostly steampunk-ish art projects courtesy of Mrs. Kearney's sophomore art class), not much attention was paid to the theme. The notable exception appeared to be James, who had strode through the doors in full costume.

The apparently dateless sable strutted across the gym floor, weaving through the dancers while letting his long leather trenchcoat billow to maximum effect. He used a long straight walking stick topped with an old-fashioned mechanical alarm clock and liberally bedazzled along its length with little brass gears and other random small machine parts. On his head he had an old scuffed brown bowler with a set of goggles wrapped around the band, and a pair of silver-grey feathers sticking up. He headed towards Red and Harry, who were standing in the far corner on a low riser.

Harry broke into a buck-toothed grin as James approached. Red just gawked. It was far too loud for them to say anything to James until the current song stopped, so Harry just gave him two thumbs up and James gave a satisfied nod, turning once to make his coat flare out a little. Under it he was wearing fairly normal-looking dress slacks and shirt, though a couple of chains suggested at least two pocket watches stowed someplace. Red finally stopped gawking and gave him a slow clap.

James touched the brim of his bowler and gave them a shallow bow before sweeping off to parade himself around some more.

Harry leaned over close to Red's tufted ear and said loudly, "He looks like a pimp!"

Red turned and shouted back, "A steampimp!"

Harry laughed at offered his paw for a high-five, which Red completed.

The song began to finish up and Harry poked Red's shoulder. Red looked back to Harry.

Harry once again leaned close and said loudly enough to be heard, "Target acquired. Good luck, soldier," before smacking him in the arm and stepping off the riser and into the crowd.

Red followed the rabbit's tall black ears as he weaved around couples and singles and knots of people, finally coming to a stop at a group of three girls, one of whom looked like one of his sisters. The other two weren't rabbits, Red noted. He turned his attention back to the main doors, watching people arrive and occasionally slip out. He was looking for skunk tails. He had seen a handful already-- Megan wasn't the only mephit at the school, after all. Each time he had seen a female walk in he had felt a brief thrill of excitement, but thus far none had been the right one.

He scanned around the gym once again, thinking he might have missed their entrance. He spotted Sarah, which reminded him of just how quickly he had become infatuated with Megan. It had only been a few weeks since he was mooning over the grey mouse instead. She was dancing with a mouse Red didn't know, the both of them bouncing into each other and laughing. Well, good, Red thought. Good for her. He felt immensely pleased with himself for getting over her. He was still watching Sarah when Megan and Foster finally arrived.

They had stopped in front of the doors, hand in hand, just as the song ended. They got a few stares, and Red finally glanced back at the door and saw them. So that was Foster, Red thought with a frown. Smug-looking bastard. And what was he doing holding onto Megan's hand like that? He was just supposed to drive her here. He hopped off the riser and headed across the floor in their direction.

Suddenly the lights changed, as the DJ adjusted the color mix to a reddish-pink, indicating that the next song was a slow dance. Red found himself in the middle of the rush to find a new partner. He had been here before, at other dances, trying to catch the eye of someone who wasn't already paired up. Those times that he did find a partner it had almost always been awkward. As if he was simply the only male available at the time and both he and the girl always seemed relatively relieved when it was over.

This time he had no interest in finding someone, because his someone was already here. He skirted the edge of the dance floor and in his haste jostled into someone, apologized, and then backed into someone else. She turned and he got a faceful of glitter-sprinkled tail. Red sneezed and he heard a giggle. He turned from his mission and caught the eye of the tail's owner. A grey squirrel dressed in a pale green gown with glittered gauzy petticoats was offering her paw to him. Lisa, Red remembered. She thought he wanted to dance! Of all the times... Red thought. He glanced back towards the main doors but Foster and Megan were no longer there. Where had they gone? He tried to look through the gaps in the crowd and spotted them again. Foster was leading Megan towards the center and Megan was still holding his hand. Red set his jaw and flickered his tail. Fine. One dance, Foster.

He took Lisa's paw and she pulled him away from the edge to a relatively clear spot of gym floor. He looked at her and gave her a smile, even though he didn't feel it. On any other night, he'd have been thrilled. She smiled back and he moved in close as the music started. He recognized the song-- an oldie, something his dad liked. He put his paws on Lisa's waist and she put hers on his shoulders. She kept her eyes on his, and he felt bad every time he tried to steal a look in Megan's direction. He flickered his red tail and she did the same with her grey one, causing the air behind her to sparkle briefly in freed glitter. She fidgeted with her paws, then slipped them further, around his neck, leaning closer. Red had little choice but to do the same, his hands coming together at the small of her back. Her really warm back. And front. They swayed from side to side, slowly turning in the manner of the slow dance. She set her muzzle on his left shoulder and he felt awkward in a completely new way-- he couldn't tell if she was actually into him or if she just liked to slow dance and he was available. And a squirrel, even though not a grey like her.

Her scent and proximity was certainly pressing his buttons and he felt the familiar stir in his loins. Oh, great, he thought. There was a reason he generally stayed a respectable distance when he did this. He tried to ignore it, and hoped Lisa would as well. He took the opportunity while he didn't have to look at her face to lead the turn so that he could spy on Megan and Foster. They, too, had brought their dance in close. Megan's violet dress had a black satin bow tied behind her back and Foster's hands were held below it- right on the curve of her bottom, his fingertips disappearing under the fringes of her tail. Was he... wiggling them? Red couldn't tell for sure, but he thought he was. He scowled again, tail flickering. Lisa pressed up against him, and flickered her own, briefly interfering with Red's surveillance. When his view cleared, he caught Megan nuzzling at Foster's neck. His heart sank. Apparently Megan had been wrong about Foster. Maybe he should make the best of it? He slipped his fingers over Lisa's tight little rump and pulled her even closer.

Lisa didn't pull away, even after Red was sure she could feel the tent in his slacks even through her petticoats. She seemed content, though, and followed his lead as he turned them slowly away. He stopped looking at other couples and focused on Lisa, trying to enjoy himself. He closed his eyes.

Before he knew it, the song ended. Most couples began to pull themselves apart. Lisa did the same, and Red was reluctant to let go. He did, though, and she stepped back, grinning wide. He looked at her with a more amorous smile (or so he thought), but she turned and waved to a group of three other girls on the edge of the floor who had not been dancing. Lisa pointed at Red's crotch with one hand and held up the other, showing two fingers. Her friends began clapping and laughing. Lisa stepped closer again, kissed Red on the cheek briefly, and skipped away back to her friends.

Red was dumbfounded, his amorous smile turning to a gaping confused half-snarl. What had just happened? Before he could process the thought further, however, someone grabbed his arm firmly, and started to hustle him towards the door.

*****

Megan allowed herself to be led into the crowded gym. Foster wasn't hurrying, but they had walked in just in time for a slow dance. It seemed like perfect timing, like the dance had just been waiting for them to arrive, an hour late. Despite the chilly night outside, the gym itself was warm, and filled with the mixed scents of many species. They had paused in the entryway-- she thought perhaps Foster was looking for his rendez-vous, but he mostly just stood with her and scanned the dance floor aimlessly. Then he had gripped her paw firmly as the music had started and said, "Come on, this is ours."

They reached a spot near the centerline painted on the sealed wood floor and he pulled her in close, framing her waist with his hands. He was taller than her by enough that she had to look up to meet his eyes, and he met her look with an insouciant smile. She reached up and wrapped her paws around his neck. They began to sway. The few previous times she had done this sort of thing, the swaying had seemed aimless, almost as if it was a concession to the fact that standing in one spot holding each other would just be awkward and strange. Foster, on the other hand, managed to lead her with a slow rhythm that matched the music. She knew the song, but had never really paid attention to the lyrics before.

We skipped the light fandango

Turned cartwheels 'cross the floor

I was feeling kinda seasick

The crowd called out for more

The room was humming harder

As the ceiling flew away

When we called out for another drink

The waiter brought a tray

Megan thought she could feel the room humming harder. Or was that her heartbeat? They weren't moving quickly at all, but she felt a little lightheaded. She looked up at Foster again, and he was still smiling at her, his nose twitching just slightly. He pulled her closer, and she could feel his fingers pressing into her bottom, just back and under her tail. She let herself admit that it felt very nice. She let herself press up against his chest and stomach. She nosed up under his chin and inhaled. He smelled exquisite. She closed her eyes and the rest of the dance disappeared. They were alone, listening to the haunting old song in their own little space.

She could imagine waking up to this, she realized. It wouldn't be so bad. Not bad at all. Foster gave her rear a little squeeze and she shivered against him. He nuzzled her ear, breathing warmly over it and she poked her nose into the hollow of his neck. He raised his head and she opened her eyes just enough to remind herself that she wasn't all alone with him. That there were other couples dancing near them. She felt a pang of self-consciousness and exposure. She hadn't expected Foster to be quite so... intimate. It was supposed to be one dance, and then she would find Red. But that fantasy morning, waking up beside this intoxicating male after a night of nearly feral lovemaking, refused to fade from her mind. Her arousal awoke her nipples, made her feel uncomfortably warm wrapped in her satin dress. She worried that if he asked her to go somewhere, anywhere, and do... anything with him, she might do it. Even though she knew, on some level, that this was her mother's doing. Her mother's plan for her life.

If Foster sensed the conflict within her, he didn't give any sign. He combed his fingers through the wispy fur of her tail and kept up his steady swaying rhythm. The song was into its final chorus when Megan let go of his neck and pushed back, looking up at him with her mouth slightly open. She appeared to be panting slightly. He cocked his head and stopped palming her ass, stopped dancing, instead resting his hands more neutrally on her waist. She looked down his body, then back up. He was still studying her. Then she let go completely. Foster followed suit a moment after.

They looked at each other, then she looked away as the song began to fade out. Couples were disengaging all around them, the spell dissolving. She searched frantically, ignoring Foster, who still stood, watching her. She spotted Red, finally. He was with some squirrel, a grey one. She didn't care. She headed quickly towards him, away from Foster. She hit Red at a slight run, grabbing his arm, and dragging him sideways. He stumbled, managed to recover his balance and went with her.

Foster watched, his smile turning into an amused smirk. "Heh. Good luck, my man," he said quietly at the retreating couple. Then he straightened his jacket and made for the side door to the gym, pushing the door open and slipping out into the chill.

*****

Megan didn't stop until she cleared the outer doors of the gym building, and stood at the top of the granite steps. He breath came in quick panting puffs, visible in the cold evening air. She let go of Red's arm, and he finally was able to talk to her.

"Megan! What's wrong? Why are we run..." Red was unable to finish because she pulled him somewhat roughly into a strong embrace, then a sudden hungry kiss. The squirrel was shocked, his tail flipping up and his eyes opening wide, but the defensive reflex melted into a dawning realization of what was really happening. He wrapped his arms around Megan's waist and returned the kiss as best he could. She was nearly devouring his muzzle, trying to wrap herself defensively in the squirrel's embrace to drive out the memory of Foster's. He put his hands on her rounded rear end and held her against himself as a defense against the sudden cold of the outside air. She didn't mind.

After what seemed to be longer than he expected a kiss should go on for, especially in front of several other amused students on the steps, he started to try to get her attention, speaking out of the side of his mouth. "Meg... Megm. Jus, mmm. Wrt"

She finally relented, but kept her arms loosely wrapped around his neck and looked at him with half-lidded eyes, still panting.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

She nodded.

"What happened in there?"

She darted her glance back at the door briefly, as if she thought Foster might follow her out, but quickly looked back at Red. She said, "I just want to be with you right now, Red."

"Should uh, we go someplace less public?" he asked in a much lower tone. They were attracting an audience.

A fluttery tingling blossomed somewhere south of her belly and she nodded again, then turned away from both the open doors and Red. She started walking off into the darkness. Red followed.

"Where are we going?"

"Library?" she suggested, not slowing her pace. She couldn't think of anyplace else.

"Is it open this late on the weekends for the boarders?" asked Red, catching up and taking her paw in his. "I'm not even sure what time it is."

She squeezed his hand and said, "I think so. Come on, it's cold out here!"

They hurried across the grass, up the slope to the street and across it. The library's lights still glowed, warm and inviting through the glass-dominated front onto the dark quad. As they reached the corner of the building, Red tugged Megan's hand. "Chtchch! Not the front! We're kinda dressed up."

Megan stopped. The squirrel had a point. If they were going to do what she really wanted to do, it would be better if no one saw them come in the brightly lit front doors. She followed Red's lead, towards the side door. Red tried the handle and found it unlocked, thankfully, and they passed into the side stairwell. The warm breeze of the air system inside met them with a hollow echoing sound that died as soon as the door closed behind them. They ascended the stairs, tiptoeing and rustling as quietly as they could. At the second floor landing they opened the door, hearing the air system equalize again high above them at the top of the stairwell. Red peeked through the half-open door and saw the line of closed doors stretching all the way to the stairwell on the other side. No one in sight. He opened it further and stepped through and she followed, carefully holding the door until it closed silently.

Rather than going all the way to the middle where 210 was, Red tried the first door on his left, room 200. It proved to be open, and dark inside. Red motioned Megan to get inside, and then he followed, with one last glance behind him.

She watched him close the door as silently as she had the last one, then slide the deadbolt home. The room was lit only by the window at the far end, and that was precious little. Only whatever managed to bounce back off the quad and the far buildings from the library lights downstairs. Megan assumed the room was laid out like the others, but before they could get their bearings further, she enveloped him in warm arms again.

He slipped his hands over her rear end again, this time squeezing without reservation through the satin, into the soft warmth of her cheeks. She was still panting a little, and when he squeezed her butt there was an answering squeeze between her legs.

Once again she peppered him with moist kisses and he had to interrupt after a while, whispering her name through his lips.

"Yes, Red?" she asked, almost invisible in the darkened room. Only her white headstripe and a pinpoint reflection off one of her moist dark eyes showed.

Red nuzzled her cheek and said, "Megan I... I want you. Are we... Do you... Are you ok?"

"I'm ok. Why do you keep asking?" she asked, exasperation beginning to show in her voice.

Red swallowed and didn't answer right away. She pulled back, just a little. Her feverish hold on him loosened. He said, "I've never seen you like this. Did... did he do something to you? Give you something to drink, or..."

She unclasped her arms and stepped into the room, away from Red. "No, he didn't drug me, if that's what you're asking."

"Oh, good. I was worried that--"

She interrupted him, "I _am_capable of wanting things on my own, Red." Why couldn't he just take her? Foster would have.

"I... I know. I was really hoping it was me, that you wanted. I needed to be sure. I'm sorry. Sorry if I broke the mood." He sighed.

She sighed as well and groped in the darkness for his hand, which she took and squeezed with both of hers. "It's ok. But I'm telling you I'm fine, and I yes I really really want to be here, with you." She couldn't tell him that Foster HAD done something to her, though. Something she desperately felt she needed Red to undo. Or to fulfill, perhaps. She led him by the hand away from the door and to one side of the table that every one of the study rooms contained. She stopped about halfway along, then flipped her tail up and lowered herself to the carpeted floor.

Red was easily led, and joined Megan on the floor, sitting facing her. She was little more than a dark silhouette against the weak light of the window a few feet behind her. He chittered nervously.

Megan crawled closer, invading his space, nudging at his chest with her forehead. She said, "Lie back."

He took off his jacket, tossing it over the closest chair back, then did as she asked, lying on his back with his tail between his legs. He propped his shoulders up on his elbows and tried to watch her dark shape as it moved over him. She sniffed at him, from his chest down to his groin. He lacked that singular odor that Foster had, but he still smelled deliciously male, especially down between his legs. She slid her paws over his belly, then over his groin, feeling the desperate twitching response under the taut material of his slacks. He gasped. She knew what was in there- she had seen it on her computer screen. But this was so much more real. Her hands shook a little as she undid the little hook and zipper to expose him. He popped free into her hands, so warm and alive. His scent poured out, and she bent low to nose right under his shaft, tickling his enormous nuts with her whiskers.

He moved to try to push his slacks off further, but she didn't give him the chance. From the hungry inhalation of his rodent musk she immediately opened her muzzle and licked up the underside of his shaft. She found him slick and salty-bitter near the tip. She decided she liked the taste of his warm skin better, but she was committed. He reached for her head, her ears, but couldn't seem to decide what he wanted to touch besides needing to reciprocate somehow and stopped after a while. She opened wide and engulfed him. A first for her-- one of many tonight, she thought.

He felt alive in her muzzle-- twitching with his rapid heart beat and also thrumming with another rhythm which originated deep in his groin as muscles contracted and released. She made a low purring sound around his shaft and slowly suckled her way to the tip.

"Megan, I..." Red said, and started to scramble back, hampered by his half-on pants. She realized that he might be close to the edge already and raised her head, watching him in the very pale light from the window. He was panting and straining, but after a little while seemed to relax. She watched the clear fluid dribble down his cock.

"Did you almost?"

Red nodded, then said, "Yeah. Sorry."

She slipped her paws under his dress shirt and rubbed his soft white belly. "It's ok. But I think I have a better place for you."

Red moaned, "Oh, Megan..."

She rose up on her knees, and gathered her skirt up in her arms. She balanced on one knee and swung the other over Red's legs. Then she shuffled forward on her spread knees, blocking most of the light from the window from Red's view. When she was over his hips, she let go of her skirt, letting it drape out all around her, covering Red from knees to chest. She felt his hands steal up the outside of her thighs underneath, coming together over the round curve of her belly, then down to her panties. They were satin too, and his fingers danced over the sheer but very moist material. It was her turn to gasp.

Red seemed eager to continue and she moved forward to give him more to touch. All his fingers were between her thighs now, pressing against her swollen vulva through her panties. Her legs quivered and shook with the electric thrills he was sending throughout her body, traveling up and down her spine. Unasked, he slipped two fingers under the lace edging of her panties and pulled them away from her soaked pubic fur. She felt the fingers, then the change in temperature as she was exposed. Then the fingers of his other paw were exploring her, slipping between her lips and touching her bare slick flesh for the first time. She bucked her hips, unable to still them while he explored. He sought out and found her opening, one of his fingers worrying its way past her virginal resistance, finding no barrier, only tight, hot clenching muscle.

She panted and had to bend over, supporting her weight on her hands as well as her knees now. Red's finger probed deep, then withdrew. His thumb had found her clit and he wasn't skilled enough to deal with both. He worried over her button, hidden away in its slippery hood but still there as a firm but elusive presence. Her tail flared up, over her back and she made a guttural grunting exhalation. The room began to fill with her heated female scent. She wasn't sure he'd be able to set her off-- she'd been the only one to do that thus far in her life.

The squirrel tried different tactics, rubbing one way then another, squeezing her clit between two fingers, probably anything he had seen in all the porn he watched. Some of them were very, very right and others weren't. A quick "Uh-uh" from her usually set him on another tack quickly. But nothing ever seemed to work for long enough. She felt like she was burning up, right on the edge of what she needed. She decided it was time.

She made a strangled little noise and pushed herself back with her paws. Red lost his reach and hold and her panties slipped back over her sex. She reached under her skirt herself and pulled them aside again, then lowered herself carefully until she felt the tip of his cock against her folds. He was trembling, and so was she. So this is how it happens, she thought, and sat.

He moaned and then seethed through his teeth as she failed to open up enough. Only an inch or so of him was in her, and the rest of him was being painfully bent. She quickly pulled back up and said, "Sorry... sorry. Are you ok?"

He nodded and said, "Yeah. S'ok."

She lowered herself again, catching him at her opening again. She pushed her knees apart, and took it slow this time. She had experimented with inserting things into her vagina since she was young, but had never tried to stretch herself wide with them. Red's penis was the largest (and warmest and softest but at the same time hardest) thing she had ever tried. Her flesh burned with the stretch. She squeezed on the inch she had, then relaxed, and moved down another bit. Then another, and another, until finally she sat on his hips, his throbbing squirrelmeat fully inside her. The feeling of invasion reminded her distantly of those private experiments, but this was so much better in every way. She brought her paws to his chest and leaned down, feeling tethered to him at their joining.

Red had been holding his breath. He finally let it out and said, "You are so, so good, Megan. So hot..."

She squeezed around him again and he gasped. She smiled in the darkness. "Touch me some more?"

Red reached under her skirt and returned his fingers to her clit and mons, able to feel her lips stretched around his thickness. He didn't have quite as much room to move this time, but he used a pair of knuckles to frame her clit between them, rubbing back and forth with the occasionaly squeeze. Megan felt the tight burning fade as the pleasure rose back up again. She said, "Yes, just like that, please..."

He was doing his best, she could tell. And she knew she was going to cum with a certainty that had eluded her just a minute before. She trilled in her throat and felt like she had to move. Needed to feel him moving within her. She pulled up, her labia clinging to his shaft as it left her, then came back down before he was even halfway out. He chittered and moaned now, and she felt the pinpricks of the wave about to crash over her.

Red said, "Oh shit Megan I can't stop it it's coming I'm gonna shoot!" in a rapid fire rasping whisper.

She wasn't about to stop now, or pull off. She nodded and chuffed, "Do it. Cum in me, Red."

Red hadn't been early in his warning, as even before she finished speaking she could feel him twitching in her, his whole shaft going taut, then releasing, rapidly. With each contraction he flooded her with squirrel seed, his paws holding her thighs under her skirt tightly. She couldn't actually feel his semen, but she imagined she did. She remembered the video chat, and how much he had cum on that towel. That was all going into her now. Her wave crashed at the thought. She bit her own forearm and screamed into it as her sex began to flutter and clench around his spasming shaft. When she had let that out, she rose up and settled on his hips, feeling the warmth spread through her pelvis and outward. She shuddered and squeaked, losing herself in the moment, mouth agape and eyes vacant.

Red rode out his own peak similarly incapacitated, even though this was not his first time. But Megan was so different than Pam it still felt gloriously new. Whatever else he was worried about with Megan and Foster could wait until this enveloping bliss ended.

They stayed this way, bound together in silent oblivion, for a long time.

*****

Foster let the door click shut behind him, cutting off the noise and heat of the gym. No one else was out on the landing. Not yet, anyway. He expected others would come out this way soon though. A couple of girls in there had been sizing him up after Megan had taken off. He hurried down the metal steps that clung to the side of the building, breath coming in visible puffs in the cool, wet air illuminated by the light above the landing.

At the bottom he turned and headed towards the rear of the great brick edifice, not slowing down until he had turned the corner to the relatively dark back side of the gymnasium. This side faced the track and football field, and had a set of doors that led straight into the lower locker room level. He paused and took his phone from the inside pocket of his jacket, quickly texting a message before clicking it back off and stowing it. The music had started again, a distant thumping bass. He passed the doors and the rest of the sprawling athletic complex and headed towards the dormitory row.

Behind the dorms there were small shaded parking lots. He picked his way across a grass border and made for the closest one. It was only about half-full, and only half-lit by the lights attached to the back of the dorm. He could hear the soft purr of an idling engine, and he tried to zero in on it. It wasn't hard, as only one tailpipe was emitting clouds of white vapor.

He walked up behind the SUV, then slipped between it and the car parked immediately to its right. Without knocking he opened the front passenger door and got inside, quickly shutting the door on the chilly night as soon as he had pulled his tail into the warm interior.

The driver said, "Certainly took your time."

Foster shifted in the passenger seat to face the driver. "Took longer than I thought to get going. Then I had to show Megan a good time--"

"What did you do?" demanded the driver suddenly.

Foster laughed. "Worried I got nothing left for you?"

"Don't touch that girl."

"Why not? She wanted me pretty bad, I think. And man, that ass. Fuck, I'm hard just thinking about it. Bet I could plow that all NIGHT."

"Just don't, Foster."

He snorted. "Fine, whatever. I was a perfect gentleman, anyway. We danced and then she tackled her boyfriend and I think dragged him out in her teeth. Probably mauling him right now someplace."

"You know him?"

"Nope. Not Joey, that's for damn sure."

"No, I suppose it wouldn't have been," sighed the driver.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Prescott, I'm sure Joey will blossom soon!" chided Foster.

"Don't do that."

"What?"

"Don't call me "Mrs. Prescott" when we're alone. It's Donna," she said, leaning over and nuzzling his shoulder.

He made a quiet purring growl and said, "All right, Donna," before reaching over and stroking his fingers through her headfur. The only lights inside the cabin were scattered over the dashboard and console, so Foster could barely see the woman he shared the car with. He had to use his paws to find out what she was wearing. It turned out to be a two piece matching jogging suit. He said, "Well, I feel overdressed."

"I agree," breathed Donna.

Foster turned to face the dashboard again and began undoing his jeans and unbuttoning his shirt. Donna slipped her paws over his belly as soon as his soft black fur was exposed, but then pulled back before he finished. Foster looked over and was surprised to find the skunk lady's tail in his face. "Wha...?" he started, before catching fur in his mouth for his trouble and sputtering briefly.

Donna wriggled over and between the driver and passenger seats and flopped into the back of the SUV with a little "Oof."

Foster looked back and realized that the seats had been turned down and a blanket thrown over the rear part of the cabin. "Oh, yeah, that's what I'm talkin' about," he said, abandoning his attempt at undressing halfway through. He pried off his shoes and followed Donna, letting the seat strip his jeans off as he climbed over. Donna had scrambled towards the back and he tore off his coat and finished unbuttoning his shirt as he went. For her part, she had undone the sweatpants portion of her jogging suit and pushed them down to her calves, stripped them off entirely as Foster reached her.

"No panties? I bet Joey could smell your pussy all the way here!"

"Could we not talk about Joey right now?"

"Sorry. But you smell awesome."

"So do you, Foster," cooed Donna.

The young male reached out and growl-churred again as he sank his fingers into the woman's pelt, feeling her soft warmth, wanting to touch every curve of her body at once. He unzipped her hoodie, manhandling her full breasts with both hands as soon as he could get it open. She didn't try to slow him down, eagerly exploring him as well. One of her paws slipped down between his legs, gently cupping his swinging soft-furred sac. She swirled her fingertips over the backside of his balls, then ran them up and along his thick skunk shaft, already hard and twitching, filling the cabin with his masculine mephit scent.

Foster got up on his toes, leaning back against the wheel well so she could get a good feel, and maybe even a shadowy look in the light that filtered in the tinted back window from the dorm lights, if she wanted. He was no porn star, but he knew he had plenty for a skunk, and hard as a rock. Harder than her husband, if her complaints were true.

She leaned in and he felt the warmth of her breath on his glans, quickly followed by the wet heat of her muzzle. He groaned as she slid her muzzle smoothly all the way down until her nose was buried in his groin fur. No girl his own age could do that. Then she worked her throat, swallowing, and he gasped at how the back of her tongue worked the underside of his prick. He reached out and got his fingers into her headfur again, grasping and rubbing her ears. She drew back slowly, swallowing a few more times before sinking back down. Foster twitched and dribbled his salty pre on her waiting tongue.

When she finally pulled all the way off him, leaving him bouncing and wet in the increasingly humid air of the still-idling car, he would have protested if he hadn't known what was coming next. She pulled her hoodie off entirely, leaving her black fur bare. It was still too dark to see her fully, but Foster could see enough. She was his mom's age, sure, but she had somehow stayed if not exactly slim, definitely athletic. Her bottom was deliciously round, though, out of those sweats, and he longed to feel it bouncing off his groin. She was already rolling up on her hands and knees, nose towards the front of the car. She flipped her tail up and over her white-striped back, giving it an enticing whiffle.

Foster rocked off his toes onto his knees as well and crawled up behind her, pawing at her ass and then sliding his fingers up along her sides until he was covering her, pressing her tail against her back. He felt his dick prodding her pussy and she spread her knees. Her vagina contracted and made an undignified wet meaty sound.

Foster laughed and said, "I think your cunt is hungry, Donna."

She breathed deep and rocked back against him, forcing his penis down between her thighs instead of where he probably intended. "Don't tease me, Foster."

He reached down and rubbed her slit with two fingers, up and down, before slipping them into her. "Damn! You're fucking soaked!"

"Uh huh. You want to know why?"

"I know why. You've been waiting for me."

Donna laughed, "So modest. But no, mostly it's because you're getting seconds."

"What?" Foster asked, quickly pulling his fingers out of her cunt and bringing them to his nose. She wasn't lying- he clearly smelled like skunk pussy and semen. "Ugh. What the hell?"

"Dan was feeling frisky for a change before I left. But don't worry, he didn't give me nearly what I wanted."

Foster wiped his fingers on Donna's thigh and said, "Oh yeah? Tell me what you want, Mrs. Prescott."

She growled and pushed her butt back into him. "I want you to stop fucking around, Foster."

He reached down to pull his cock up into position. Then he gripped her rear and said, "You want me to fuck all your mate's sperm out of you?" while sliding into her slick heat. He gritted his teeth but still her inner fire surprised him. He came to rest right up against her ass and stayed there, twitching.

Donna sighed as the male speared her, spreading her wide with his unyielding hot presence. She squeezed, flexing rhythmically. He felt glorious. Perfect. She leaned her upper body down onto her elbows, canting her butt up, spreading fully for him. She was his and he was hers, if only for a little while. She said, "And then I want all of yours."

He gripped handfuls of her soft rear end and pulled back, almost to the glans, making more lewd sucking sounds as he did so. When he shoved himself back into her, if forced air out again, the sound making him grin. He stifled the laugh, at least. He changed his angle, getting up higher on his knees, and it mostly stopped. Donna gripped the camp blanket in both her paws and groaned in satisfaction.

He sank back down, sitting on his feet, and pulled her with him, keeping her back end tight against himself. He felt himself probing deep inside her while she somehow rippled her inner muscles over him. He shivered and panted in the moist, musk-filled air. He rolled his hips in a slow circle, dragging his dick around inside her, stirring her up while he kneaded her ass, moving the rounded globes of fat and muscle around in opposite circles. He spread her cheeks, then squeezed them together.

"Having fun?" she asked, looking back.

"Yeah," he said.

"Remember, hnnnn... we don't have all night this time."

"I know," he said, thumbing over her asshole.

She clenched up tight suddenly and said, "Careful!"

He moved his thumb up to her tail root and said, "You worried you might spray on accident?"

"You better be worried. Try explaining THAT to your mother."

He held her tail and started to mate her, rolling his hips into her rear smoothly to keep the car from rocking too obviously. "She'd probably think I tried to fuck Megan."

"Are you thinking about her while fucking me?"

"Nnngh, I wasn't before, but..."

"Brat. I don't care if you do. As long as I'm the one that ends up pregnant."

He growled and hunched into her hard, stopping briefly. He throbbed, fingers gripping her bottom tighter for a moment, then relaxing. "You really want it."

"If I didn't, you'd be wearing a condom."

"You fertile?" he asked, resuming his rhythm.

"Probably. So it's either Dan's sperm or yours. I'd prefer yours."

Foster huffed and spread his knees even wider, rocking his whole lower half against Donna as he plowed her deep in rolling strokes. He could feel his sac tightening up already, his shaft hardening and relaxing inside her grasping cunt.

She could tell. She pushed back against him, flickering her striped tail and groaning in a low, almost frightening cracked voice, like some kind of wild animal. She panted and licked her lips, then said, "I want all that hot young sperm in me, Foster. Have you ever cum in a girl bareback?"

"Yeah," said Foster, rapidly losing the capacity for witty speech.

She rubbed her face on the blanket and wiggled her butt while squeezing on his shaft, trying to bring him off. It was becoming unbearably hot inside the car.

He groaned, "Oh, FUCK" and suddenly started pounding her soft ass from behind and below, one hand gripping the root of her tail while the other hand held onto her rear.

She said, "Uh huh! Uh huh! Do it do it do it DO IT!" while slipping a hand under her belly to frig herself as he went into his last throes.

He chuffed, "Here it comes!" just as he pulled her down onto himself. His cock jumped inside her, then began spurting his sticky-slick skunk cum over her unprotected cervix with each contraction.

She could feel the belly of his cock throb and pulse and she rubbed herself frantically to join him in climax, reaching her peak just as his was fading. She made that throaty almost otherworldly noise again- a sound beyond care or shame. Her tail flared, but she thankfully didn't lose control of her sprayers. Nevertheless, the car was thick with skunk musk, both male and female as the occupants panted and slumped, basking in the moment of full release.

Foster kept making his cock twitch for a while after the automatic contractions had stopped, as if to commit every single drop he had. After a good while he said, "Gonna have to open all the doors."

"Obviously," said Donna without lifting her head from the blanket. From the front seat came the sound of windchimes. "Fuck. Already?"

Foster assumed it was her phone, and therefore Joey was ready to leave the dance. "Guess he didn't get lucky."

"Obviously," repeated Donna.

He began to withdraw and asked, "Ready?"

She whined, but said, "Ok."

He pulled out fast, like tearing off a bandage, and still gasped from the brief overstimulation. For her part, she immediately rolled to her back and brought her knees up to her chest, hugging them with both arms to keep his seed from leaking out, though some did anyway, staining the blanket.

Foster wished there was more light, so he could see her creamed muff, but he could smell it clear enough. It hit him, then, all at once. What he had just done. He hadn't expected to care, but he found himself wondering what it would be like to have actually fathered a kit. It might be happening right this moment.

"What are you going to name it?" he asked.

"Do you have a suggestion?"

"No," he admitted. He grabbed her sweatpants and handed them to her.

"Thanks," she said, and began to put them back on, still rolled on her back.

Foster crawled past her and opened the rear passenger side door, letting in the night air, which was a refreshing shock. He sat for a moment letting it cool him down, then turned to collect his scattered clothes from the back. He stepped onto the cold pavement barefoot, and opened the front passenger door to retrieve his jeans and shoes. He paused when he was almost finished and said, "So, is this it, if you catch?"

"Not necessarily, Foster. You're good for more than just what's in your balls."

He snorted, "Thanks."

"If you can stay discreet, we can do this again. Maybe someplace more comfortable next time."

"I'll text you," he said, standing up and shutting the front passenger door.

"Leave the other door open," she said, and he did.

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