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You can't tell if you're dreaming when you wake.

You felt Rebecca throughout the night; her purring, her warmth, her arms. It's all more vivid when you realize it's real. The little things make the difference, like the gentle squeeze of her chest around yours. How deep your face is in her neck-fur, and how she's holding you so close you can hardly feel anything but her and her resonant purring. You tighten your arms around her shoulders with a deep sigh. Rebecca chuffs, hot breath washing down your back. She rubs the side of her chin against you and squeezes you in return.

Your blood runs cold at the prick of claws in your back. You stiffen, but her purring doesn't cease. Rebecca's paws move in slow, long strokes over your tender skin, her claws gently going in and out. It's a relief when you realize she's kneading. You disguise your groan of pain as one of pleasure and bury your face deeper in her neck. The tigress coos, rubbing her jaw against your head again before pulling back.

Her green eyes are half lidded, and something tells you it's not from exhaustion.

A paw glides behind your head as Rebecca kisses you deeply. Your eyes flutter shut, your entire head moved by the small, subtle nods of hers. Your groans of genuine pleasure are swallowed by her lips, and the ones she returns are much deeper.

The tigress' expression is one of overwhelming bliss when she pulls back. Just seeing it makes your heart soar. She leans into your hand when you reach up and stroke her face, her head heavy and huge. You're so lost in the softness that you almost miss her absence of fear.

"Good morning, Anon," she rumbles, one eye still closed as you rub her cheek.

"Morning, Rebecca," you say. "You doing okay?"

You think there's an 'mhm' somewhere in the chuffing. She kneads at your shoulders, letting out a huge sigh.

"Thank you. Again," she says. "I -- I didn't know if I could ever --"

You press a finger to her lips. Her look tells you all you need to know. She smiles and kisses your finger before letting you pull away; you find yourself shifting lower in her arms.

"S-so, what n --?" you manage, before your words are smothered in fur. They turn into a formless hum as Rebecca locks you in her cleavage Her breasts heave around you as she sighs.

"Let's stay like this a little longer," she says, her voice all around you. The tigress relaxes, her rumbling purr getting sleepy. It deepens when you wrap your arms around her. The two of you bask in each other's touch for a while, and you have to fight the urge to drift off. You feel bad when you sigh and push at her heavy tits.

"Sorry, sweetie," she says as she pulls away, "can you breathe?"

You gasp as you're freed from her boundless curves, blinking in the light. "Yeah -- yeah, I can, it's just -- I need to ask this before we fall back asleep."

The tigress laughs, but there's concern in her eyes. You take a few breaths. You've got to work up your courage.

"Rebecca, I -- Lyons gave me a CU form," you say; she freezes, eyes going wide. You try to keep your voice even as you go on. "We... You don't have to. I don't want to push you. But if you do, it -- it'd be the only Civil Union I think I'd ever be happy with."

The tigress is silent, her paws frozen on your shoulders. Then she wraps her arms tight around your head and yanks you back into her cleavage. You manage a muffled squeak when she throws a leg over you and squeezes, wrapping you in a world of soft fur. She shudders.

"Yes," she says, so quiet you wouldn't have heard it if you weren't in her chest. "I want it, Anon."

She doesn't make a sound, save for the occasional sniffle. Her hold doesn't loosen when you put your arms around her. You stroke her sides, humming into her chest to try and comfort her. The tigress makes a small sound back before easing up a little.

"I-I'm okay," she says, fingers threading in your hair, "I just... I need a minute."

You nod into her fur, letting her tighten up again. The CU form is long -- Lyons had to send a hosting link rather than attach it to the email. But you can let Rebecca hold you a bit longer.

You can let her hold you as long as she needs.

...

Printing the Civil Union form took ages. You had to reload Rebecca's printer a few times, and it's going to need more paper soon.

But that's not why you're here outside Talia's place.

"Are you sure this can't wait, Anon?" Rebecca asks, easing her van to a stop. "The form has to be done today."

"I know," you sigh. "It just... might be better if we show up separately tomorrow. Less chance of them saying something about 'witness tampering' that way. And to do that, we're gonna need two cars."

Filling out the CU form was as fun as you imagined, even if you got to do it in Rebecca's lap. It was just boring until you ran into a problem. You needed info from documents you didn't have -- taxes, medical history, family history -- little bullshit the State would nick you for if it didn't match. You told Reb to fill her side out while you went and got the paperwork from your apartment, only to remember your truck was still at the range, along with your guns.

It's in front of you now, parked in Talia's long gravel driveway. She told you she'd brought it to her place when you texted her. She'd played round robin with the range staff to get everyone's cars where they had to go. You're wondering if that's who the silver car behind yours belongs to; it's not a truck or a beater, so it's not any of the staff you know. Frankly, the only way you could see anyone from the range buying the silver Tesla UltraLux would be if they won the lottery.

Talia's truck stares at you from the end of the driveway, as do the empty windows. You push forward and glance up at Rebecca. You don't know how much of the conversation between you and the wolf she'd overheard, but if the tigress knew there was more to your 'relationship' than it appeared, she wasn't letting it show. She just keeps her eyes forward and her features resolute. She slows when you near the porch, letting you go first. The sun is shining as you stare at the old front door. Green stalks sway in the neighboring fields, and the trees sigh in the slight breeze. The porch creaks when Rebecca steps up behind you.

There's no putting it off anymore.

The old wood echos in the late morning air as you knock. The clacking of nails on wood announce the she-wolf's presence before she answers the door. Talia looks better than you thought she would, her fur and mane no more unkempt than usual. Her clothes are actually a bit neater. Still, her eyes betray a bit of sadness -- even before she spots the towering tigress stooped over on her porch.

"Anon. Rebecca," she says, nodding to each of you in turn. "C'mon in. Got your stuff in the living room."

She turns away before you can respond. The house is oddly tidy, the tables and dressers cleared of clutter, the faint scent of earth and gunpowder replaced with a hint of lemon. You realize why when you turn into the living room.

"Mr. Anonerson!" Mr. Lyons says, straightening up in his chair. "I didn't realize you were coming by."

"He's just here to pick up some stuff," Talia says, "won't be long. Then we can get back to business."

"Business?" you ask. "What sort of --"

"This is unrelated to the trial," Lyons says, ears perking up when he sees Rebecca round the corner. "I'm afraid I can't discuss it with either of you. I apologize, Ms. Maldovich -- but what brings you here?"

"She was his ride," Talia says for the tigress, giving the lawyer a cocked look. "Why can't we tell them about it?"

"Client confidentiality means I can't," he says after a moment. "You can, but I'd recommend waiting until --"

"I'm going to contest my State Eval," Talia says to you. Lyons sighs while you try to process it.

"I thought you do yours every November?" you ask.

"I do. But if the trial goes how I think it will, I'll be looking at a reevaluation as soon as the State can get its sights on me."

"What makes you say that?" Rebecca asks, worry in her voice. She looks to Lyons with wide eyes. "Was my testimony bad? I told you everything that happened!"

"Your testimony was fine, Ms. Maldovich," Lyons says. "I believe the evidence and testimony we have will do well."

"Then what's the problem, Talia?" you ask. The she-wolf freezes. Her fists clench. She makes to speak but stops, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

"You and her are getting a Civil Union," she says slowly, nodding to Rebecca. "That's the problem, Anon. Courtship charges won't matter, sure -- but that's because I won't have one. Without that, they'll make me get a reevaluation. Without that, I'll be put up for Assignment."

"Talia..."

"Well?" she asks, amber eyes flashing open. "Am I wrong?"

You hesitate, then shake your head. Lyons is the one to break the long silence that follows.

"Congratulations are in order, then," he says slowly. "The courtship charges will be null and void. And I'm confident Ms. Grilliz's firearms specialists will take care of your firearms charges."

"Can we delay it?"

The three anthros' ears spring up at your question.

"Can we delay the CU until after the trial?" you clarify. "Would that give Talia a chance?"

"Anon!" Rebecca says, but you brave her soft eyes.

"We'll do it, Rebecca, but later. We can't -- *I* can't let Talia get in trouble."

"Might I remind you there's a lawyer in the room?" Lyons says, standing now. "'Waiting' with your CU would give the State all the evidence it needs to convict you of the courtship charges and more. You are my client, but there are limits to what I can do."

Very quietly, Rebecca growls.

"Client confidentiality applies," he says, eyeing the tigress, "but lying under oath has significantly more dire consequences for me than it does you."

"But would it help her?" you repeat. "If it's even a couple days, I --"

"Anon!" Talia shouts. She glares at you, hands flexing again before she sighs. "Would you to step out with me for a sec?"

The she-wolf pushes past you and Rebecca, not waiting for a response. Lyons slowly sits back down and goes back to working on paperwork. He pointedly avoids your gaze. Rebecca gives you a look of concern, but you ignore it and go after Talia, pushing down the growing hollow feeling in your chest. The she-wolf stands out on the back porch, arms crossed. The wood creaks when Rebecca steps out with you.

"Rebecca --" you start, but Talia waves you off.

"I got something to say to her too," the she-wolf says. She steps up to you and puts her hands on your shoulders. "But first you need to listen, dumbass."

The tigress makes a small sound beside you; Talia doesn't spare her a glance.

"This ain't your fault. Not the gun, not the trial, not -- not you and her wanting each other," she says. There's a slight tremor as she finishes. "So don't go beating yourself up and throwing yourself at the State for me."

"That's not what I'm doing, Talia," you say. "I don't want you getting screwed. I'm the reason you're --"

Talia crouches down low and clamps a hand over your mouth, hissing "Shut up!"

Rebecca's exclamation is louder this time; she tries to step in, but Talia fends her off with a single hand.

"This isn't your fault," Talia says, gripping you tight. "We got in this together, and now you're getting out. It worked out for you, and that's good. I -- I'm glad. Glad you're happy."

"Talia..." you say, watching her eyes glimmer. "Talia, I don't want you to hurt."

"Let someone else bare it for once," she says. She turns away, scrunching her eyes tight. She stiffens when you hug her, but sighs and returns your embrace. You breathe in her flannel; the scent is familiar, comforting.

But it doesn't have the same meaning as before.

"Alright, that's enough," the she-wolf says, pushing you away. "Wouldn't wanna piss off your new wife."

Rebecca is quiet, and you look over to find her holding back tears -- much less successfully than Talia. The she-wolf stops her when she goes to speak.

"Don't you get blubbery too," Talia says, forcing a grin.

"Talia, y-you said you were rethinking it," Rebecca manages.

"I did," the she-wolf replies. "I know the two of you will be happy together. So go. I'll... I'll manage."

Despite her words, the air is still tense. Rebecca's tail still swishes, her ears still lay flat. Talia's eyes still water. And your gut still doesn't feel right. But you suck in a breath and give the she-wolf a nod. She returns it, like you were just seeing what bays were open on the range. Rebecca stays staring down at the she-wolf until you take her hand and squeeze it. She relents with a shuddering sigh, and lets you lead her inside. Talia pulls ahead, grabbing your range bag.

"Here," she says, handing it to you. "You gonna get something made in the last 50 years, now that you got a wife?"

You manage a laugh. "We'll see."

"You know where to find me if you do," she says. "You can skirt out on the grass to get around Lyons' car. Oh, and Rebecca?"

The tigress' ears perk up despite her still-fallen face.

"Take good care of this dumbass for me, will you?"

Rebecca laughs and promises she will. You manage to smile as well. Talia follows you out to the porch, waving you off as you get in your truck. She's still smiling, somehow. The she-wolf has always been a master of hiding her feelings; whether or not her grin is true, you're not sure. You hope it is, for her sake.

That's all you can hope for.

...

It feels strange returning to Rebecca's place. Home, now. The tigress has been humming the whole way back, thankfully. What happened at Talia's put a damper on her spirits, and more hours of soul-crushing paperwork didn't likely help. But turning the tome that was the CU form in and signing the last line together seems to have helped. You look out the window as you roll through suburbia, watching the streetlights flicker on. For once, the State's obsession with Assignment and marriage worked in your favor. You wouldn't have been able to renew your plates at the DMV this late, much less on a Saturday, but the CMMS office doesn't close for another 2 hours.

"That felt better than last time," Rebecca muses as she pulls into the driveway. The garage door slowly squeaks open ahead of you, and she stops humming. "How do you feel, Anon?"

"Good, I think. It's not something I was expecting to do, and -- and it's a lot," you say. Her face-stripes are striking in the backglow of the headlights, almost concealing her apprehension.

"But it's still good," you add. "It'd be a lot even if it wasn't you, Rebecca -- and I'm glad it is you."

She smiles and gives you a little hum. But her tone is still serious when she parks.

"Anon, can you promise me something?"

"Sure, Reb."

"Promise me we'll get married," she says. Her gaze is intense as she leans in close. "All we did earlier was sign a bunch of paper together. We didn't get married, not for real."

"You mean like in a church?"

"In a church, in the backyard, it doesn't matter," she says. She smiles when you nod, but her voice is still tense. "I want... I want to have a family, Anon. One beyond just you and me."

"Well I -- I'm an only child, unfortunately. And dad is... out of the picture," you say. "But I'll do what I can."

"Good," she hums, leaning into your grasping hands. Her whiskers tickle your arm as you stroke her cheeks, and she closes her eyes while you gently scratch her jaw. The two of you sit in the dark for a while, humming. She rubs her cheek along your arm; it presses against yours before you know it. The faint *click* of your seatbelt is drowned out by all her purring.

"Didn't think they'd tell you about traditional marriages, growing up in a State home," you muse as she pulls you over the console. The tigress locks you in a firm hug and chuckles.

"They didn't," she hums.

"Then how'd you find out about it?"

"Old media," she says, burying you in neck fluff.

"Mmm... no wonder they're trying to get rid of it..." you hum. Rebecca stiffens for a moment, then sighs.

"We'll talk about that later," she says. "Let's get inside."

"Do I have to propose to you?" you ask as she opens the car door. She just chuckles in response. You grunt when she doesn't let you out of her arms and carries you inside. It feels a bit emasculating, but you can't deny being carried feels good.

"It would be nice of you to propose, yes," she says. "But we can just say we're engaged, for now."

Your quiet laughter slowly dies as the tigress strides straight through the living room, still holding you halfway over her shoulder. Her warm rumble deepens as the bedroom draws closer. Her grip grows tighter, and you swear she's moving faster. It all goes quiet when she freezes in the doorway.

"We don't have to, Rebecca," you say after a moment. "It's not our actual wedding night, after all."

The tigress chuffs. She tosses you onto the bed with ease and shuts the door, turning the lights down low.

"Oh, I want to, Anon. We're having lots of kids," she says, undoing her daisy dukes. "No harm in practicing."

It doesn't feel wrong to drink her in now. Her tightly-bound breasts bounce as the red sweater comes off. Her curves are glorious from top to bottom. The stripes only make her thighs and hips look bigger, and her tasteful muffin-top is just begging to be squeezed. Even her tail is thick, hovering above an even thicker butt. A butt you'd happily --

"Anon?"

You look up, finding the tigress staring down at you with a small smile.

"Oh! Right," you say, hastily fumbling at your own clothes. "Sorry, you're just..."

You freeze when Rebecca leans up against the bed, looming over you.

"Just what?" she purrs, pressing her plush form against yours. Your response is lost in the tight fabric of her bust. She chuckles, rubbing against you a little before pulling back. She coos when she finds you blushing hard and gives your head a few strokes with her giant paw. It trails down, helping you with your shorts as you stumble for words.

"S-so, uh, what are we doing?" you finally manage. Rebecca pauses before lifting you under the arms, setting you on the center of the bed.

"There's only one way to make babies, Anon," she says, sliding her panties off.

"A-are you sure you're ready for that? We've barely gone past first base..."

She pauses at the side of the bed. "We're going to find out."

The bed creaks as she climbs on and crosses the sheets with a few steps. Seeing her on all fours awakens something within you, primal feelings of lust mixing with feelings of fear and apprehension. The tigress notices and smiles.

"Are *you* ready, Anon?" she asks, looming over you.

"Y-yeah, totally," you manage. She rolls her eyes and leans in close, brushing her cheek against yours.

"You're a terrible liar," she hums, chuffing in your face. A claw hooks into your boxers and yanks; Rebecca pulls away to look at her handiwork. The freed undergarment hangs from a single finger,slightly torn. She gives you her first look of pure lust before tossing them away.

"I'll fix it later," she says, grabbing your shirt next. "I want -- we *need* to do this first."

Your response gets caught in your throat when her paws wrap around to your back, the flesh still hot and tender. Rebecca rumbles above you. Her eyes are glazed with lust as she squeezes and kneads at you like a cat toy. You grab her wrists and groan, trying to pass it off as one of pleasure.

"Rebecca, I got it," you say, but the tigress doesn't listen.

"Oh no, Anon," she purrs, sliding your shirt up. "I'm having fun unwrapping my wedding present."

The fun stops when her thumbs brush the gouges in your chest. Your wince comes out in a hiss; Rebecca's rumbling stops.

"Anon, what's wrong? Are you --"

Her pawpads stiffen when they run across the staples. Your shirt is over your face before you can speak, but you feel her hands go light on your chest. Her eyes are wide and her ears flat when you can see her again.

"Rebecca, it's alright."

"No... no no no..." she breathes. Her fur rises as her hand slides around your chest. She ignores you when you call her name, her hand only stopping when she hits the ragged slashes on your back. She gently turns you over; you haven't seen the staples back there, but you doubt it's a pretty sight. The pinpricks from this morning's kneading session probably don't help.

Rebecca's voice is tiny, as shaky as her hands.

"No... Oh God..."

"Rebecca, it's okay," you say, turning around. She shifts away from you and freezes. She's looking right through you, even as you say "they're tender, but it's okay."

"They were right. They were all right."

"Rebecca."

"I can't do it," she whispers. Her tail wraps around a leg as she lays frozen on her side, ears plastered to her skull. "I *can't* be a mother, I can't be a wife, I can't be one. I'm too big, I'm too dangerous."

Her eyes dart between the red marks on your chest as you crawl.

"I was yours for one day and look what I did. I was his for a year and look what happened. I tried being a mother and -- and I-I couldn't --"

You're afraid when you kiss her. You're terrified. But you wrap your arms around her neck and press into her lips, squeezing your eyes tight and praying your face doesn't get ripped off. Neither of you breathe. Hours pass.

Then she wraps her arms around you and whimpers. Neither of you stop as she falls to the mattress with you. You shush against her lips, never straying far. She shudders when you stroke her mane-hair. Your hands move to her cheeks as she curls up around you, holding you tight -- but gentle around your back.

"It's okay. It's okay," you whisper. The tigress sniffs, eyes still scrunched tight as she nuzzles past your face and presses you deep into her neck.

"It wasn't your fault," you say through the fluff. "Not my back, not anything else. That's on him."

She makes a small, strained sound. You keep stroking.

"You're the sweetest woman I've ever met. I know you didn't mean for it to happen. Any of it. You're kind, you're patient, you're -- you're loving."

You swallow, trying to keep your voice from cracking as you finish.

"You're perfect."

You fail. But it doesn't matter. She takes a seizing breath, everything tightening around you. Then she purrs. There's a whine to it, but you feel it in your chest. You stroke her fur for a few moments before speaking.

"That a happy sound?"

The tigress' "M-hm" is lost in her soft rumble; you feel her nod against you.

"Good," you sigh. You take a breath of her fur. "Reb, can you look at me?"

The tigress is reluctant to let you pull away. You stay close when she does, and run your hands through the fur on her jaw. Her eyes glitter at you in the half-light, her muzzle scrunched up in a frown. Rubbing her cheeks eases it little. Her voice is a tiny, frail thing.

"I -- I'm not --"

"Hey, hey, shh," you whisper, kissing her again. "It's okay. It's okay, Rebecca. You got me, I'm not going anywhere."

She whimpers again and presses her forehead to yours. You kiss the top of her snout, moving your hands up to her ears. They're so soft. She shuts her eyes tight, but you don't mind.

"You're going to be a wonderful wife, and an even better mother," you whisper. "Want to know how I know?"

She tightens her full-body hold and nods against you.

"Because after everything you went through, you still care. You're still kind, you're still patient, you're still loving. I don't know anyone else who could do that. It might have hurt you a lot, but it didn't change your heart, Rebecca. And that's what matters."

You stroke her hair again. She opens her eyes, finding yours waiting.

"That's why it's okay. That's why you're okay," you say. She blinks, slowly, then she buries you back in her neck. She hugs you so tight you can hardly breathe.

But it's okay.

"Thank you," she breathes. "Thank you, thank you, thank you..."

You don't know how long you stay in her arms, holding her back. Her words are slowly replaced with a light, shuddering purr that hitches whenever she sniffles. You barely feel it when she rolls on top of you. Her weight only sinks in when she disentangles her arms from you and shifts up your body. The mattress pushes you up into her as she settles on your lap. Her knees slide up under your arms, and her calves press tight against your sides. The warmth of her legs envelops your whole torso; you can't help but groan. She winces, her tail swishing behind her.

"Is this too much?" she asks, her hands clasped by her stomach, "Are you --?"

"N-no, I'm okay. Just not used to it."

"Am I too heavy? I --"

"You're fine, Rebecca," you say. You slide your hands up her thighs and grab her hands, squeezing them as you look up into her eyes. "But are you sure you're ready?"

You almost believe her when she nods.

"I-I've got to try."

She spreads her legs slowly, every shift of her weight bringing another wave of sensation. You keep your groans to a minimum for her sake. Your cock looks small in the valley of her thighs, and you realize you're going to need to get *deep*. Her folds are hidden by cream fur, but you can see the outline of her slit in it. She squeezes your hands tight, and her chest heaves. She's looking down at your dick, and it's not a look of excitement.

"Rebecca?"

"J-just give me a second!" she says, still staring down at it.

"Rebecca, it's okay if you're not ready."

"I am! I want it, I just --"

She goes quiet when you sit up and wrap your arms around her. Her fur is on end when returns your embrace, pulling you tight into her stomach. She's not careful with your back, but you just squeeze her harder. She needs to hold you more.

"I -- I really want it!" she whispers. You stroke her sides and gently kiss the plush depths of her fur.

"We'll get there, Reb, I promise," you say. "But it'll take time. You're still getting used to touching, right?"

"Y-yes, but I -- I need to work through it. That's how we got to this, to me holding you."

"We did," you say, giving her stomach a peck. "But fuc -- but sex is different from touching."

Rebecca doesn't respond, staying tightly curled around you. You sigh into her warm fur, letting your hands rest on her hips as you ask "You want me to try using my hands?"

She stiffens, but rumbles in the affirmative. The tigress holds you tight as you slowly trace along the crease of her thighs. Her hold doesn't loosen as you near her core; in fact, her thighs squeeze tight when you try to slide between them. She lets out a groaning sigh when you pull away, wrapping your arms back around her.

"You tried, Reb, you --"

"We're going to do *something*, Anon!" she says, gripping you tight.

"What do you want to try, then? You want me to try eating it?"

"I -- no. I don't -- I can't have you near it. In it. I --"

You shush her and run your hands up her sides, waiting for her discontented rumble to die down. "Something else, then. Above the waist, maybe?"

"What do you mean?"

"These," you say, sliding your hands beneath her sports bra. It doesn't go as smooth as you like, since the poor garment is so damn tight, but Rebecca still gasps when your hands meet her breasts. Her hold on you tightens; the groan she lets out tells you it's from pleasure.

"Like that?" you ask as you squeeze the lower reaches of her curves. Rebecca hums and rubs against your hands. "Good, because my hands are stuck there now."

She chuckles for the first time in a while. She's smiling when she pulls back and looks down, squeezing her bust out of the way.

"Really, they're stuck!" you say. "Your bra's way too tight!"

"Well, they're hard to manage otherwise," she hums, still rubbing against your hands.

"I can help with that."

The tigress laughs, and lets her chest press on the top of your head again. "Do you remember how that went last night? You could barely move them!"

"Well, I've got to try, right?"

She groans and reaches for the hem of her bra, and mutters "you're going to pay for that."

She lifts, and her breasts envelop your head like a pair of soft wrecking balls, spilling down over your back. Rebecca relaxes against you with a full body sigh. You're not sure if it's because her massive pillows are finally free, or if it's the way you're kneading at them once more. She chuffs as she squeezes them up around you. She grabs your hands after a few moments of bliss.

"Come on, hold them for me!" she chuckles, putting your arms up around her breasts. You last all of two seconds before your arms drop and her heavy boulders spill over you anew. She hums as you groan and nuzzle into her cleavage. Your continued attempts at lifting it make her smile. Rebecca squeezes her chest around your head once more, locking you in a world of warm, earthy fur.

Locking you away in heaven.

Every second she keeps you there is one of bliss and comfort. Even when she jiggles her chest around you or smooshes her breasts together to hear you gasp. Those moments are *especially* good. You give back as best you can, squeezing her by the handful. Her breasts, her thighs, her sides, no part of her is safe. She presses against your hands no matter where they roam. Every coo, every titter, every gasp of pleasure echoes through your head.

"Still alive down there?" she asks when she finally relents, parting her cleavage to look down at you.

"You've got some -- big tiggies --" is all you gasp in response. She chuckles, stroking your hair.

"Well, if you can't handle them..." she purrs. You're submerged beneath them before you can complain; Rebecca wraps her arms around you and pushes you down. You stiffen for a moment as she settles on top of you. Your body is completely beneath hers, squished into a soft mattress by an even softer, warmer mattress. Then she leans back and presses her hips down on yours, and you gasp.

"Let's try just one," the tigress purrs, grabbing a dangling breast and dropping it on your face. You scramble to get your hands on it and search for her nipple. Rebecca spasms above you when you find it, the sensation of her hips on yours like fire. You're not in her, but the sheer warmth and mass shifting above you does wonders. She purrs when you take her in your mouth. Her pink nipple pokes at your tongue when she presses down, bobbing her shoulder, encouraging you to suck.

The sound she lets out when you do is animal, and her hips roll against yours with purpose. It's no longer incidental.

"Yes..." she rumbles. "Knead it. Up and down, just like that."

You only give up when you feel light headed. She's reluctant to stop when you grunt and tap, lifting up just enough for you to push her tit off your face.

"You okay?" she asks.

"Yeah," you manage, breathing hard. You only get a few moments before she plops back down.

"Good," she says, shifting her nipple back to your mouth. "Now do it more."

She sighs as you eagerly obey. You use a little more teeth this time, getting her to hiss. But she only tenses up temporarily, lounging on you like a contented queen.

"This feels so good," she says, "they're always so sore... now that I've got you here, maybe I'll stop using the binding bra. Assuming you enjoy this -- you do, don't you?"

You nod beneath her, as much as you can.

"I thought so," she chuckles. She lingers on the downstroke of her hips, grinding them into yours. "I can feel you down there, you know. J-just give me a few more minutes, and I'll -- take care of that..."

You're not sure how she means, but you redouble your efforts. Rebecca's purring soon turns to chuffing. You suckle on her eagerly, somehow moving her mountainous breast as you knead and squeeze. It all feels glorious and right. Being beneath her, sucking and kneading her. Hearing -- no, *feeling* her sounds of pleasure. You can feel something wet on your hips as the rumbles grow deeper. The tigress' thrusts grow more intense, and her whole body shifts with each one. She presses down harder on your head, pushing you deep into her plush depths. She ignores you when you tap again, even when you smack her breast hard enough for the sound to echo throughout the room.

Her yowl keeps you from passing out, but just barely. You gasp as Rebecca rolls to the side; the bedroom air is cool on your skin. You're still coughing when you feel her shift next to you, an arm sliding gingerly under your back.

"I'm sorry, Anon -- was that too much?" she asks, sliding a thick thigh beneath you.

"Maybe -- a little --" you manage. She coos, and pulls you up to kiss your hair.

"I'll let you manage this one on your own, then," she says, a huge breast spilling on your face. You're able to push it away enough to breathe this time. But you still freeze when a huge palm cups your nethers. She purrs when you press up into her firm grip, feeling your member rub against her pads. You groan when she rubs you back.

"You've been waiting for that, haven't you?" she asks. She coos when you nod into her tit, shivering in her grip. "Show me how much you like it."

The tigress squeezes your member when you latch on to her teat once more. She hisses, the claws of her other hand poking your lower back. You knead her in return. The soft, heavy weight of her breast mystifies you as it jiggles against your face. You think it might be perfect. Rebecca's ministrations of your member prevent you from pondering it completely as she moves in time with you, rocking and stroking in tune with your hips. She chuffs when you can no longer suck on her breast. You need to breathe, ride the edge of this pleasure. Last as long as you can for her.

"That's it," she coos, wrapping her fingers around you. "Let it out... come for momma..."

The haze of your orgasm washes away your thoughts. She purrs and drops her shoulder, muffling your moan deep in her breast. It turns to a small, soft sound as she tugs the last bits of seed from you. Your hips twitch on their own while you huff her scent.

"Good boy," Rebecca rumbles, shifting to cradle you with both arms. A 'mrp!' escapes her when you latch back onto her, followed by a deep rumble. "Very good boy..."

You don't stop when she shifts to get comfortable. You feel her pull the sheets over the two of you and settle in for the night. She strokes your head for a while, letting out breathy sighs and chuffs. Then she pulls you away and hums when you resist.

"Don't want to smother you in my sleep," Rebecca whispers, pulling you up from her cleavage. Her eyes are half-lidded and warm, and the stripes on her cheeks only enhance her smile. She pushes into your hand when you go to stroke them, her eyes closing in bliss.

"You good, Rebecca?" you ask; she hums and nods into your hands.

"Yes," she says, pulling you into her neck-fluff, "I'm good, Anon."

"I'm okay."

(Art By AKG)