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It all started with getting back into shape for the summer months ahead, but as Carson had come to learn, the running addiction was a very real thing, and any excuse to get started was a good enough excuse to keep going.

Picking up with that new year's resolution and carrying his efforts all the way through the spring, Carson shifted his focus to a full body health routine, and much to his delight, he found that weight training and running blended to create a daily regimen that not only improved his appearance, but added to his overall quality of life.

He knew he'd feel better, he knew he'd be faster, but he never would have guessed r he'd be leading the pack for his local, trail-running 10k, with a small gap between him and the nearest competitor.

The ram looked back over his shoulder, eyes of crystal blue taking in the sight of his only competition: a ewe that he hadn't thought [TH1] he'd ever see again.

He'd passed her coming out of the starting block, and given her pace at the start, he was sure that he'd be long gone from the race by the time she finished, but with a late kick, she was gaining on him...and much to his surprise, she wasn't just closing that gap, but running right for his lane.

She's not really drafting on me, is she? He wondered. Not like she'd get that much of an advantage...

An impressive specimen those days, Carson had something left in the tank. He was saving it for the finish line, and he wasn't going to break his strategy just because someone was coming up on him, but such a ferocious gaze from the ewe made him wonder if he'd become her greatest motivation.

May as well let her pass me if she wants to gas out, now.

He eased to the side of the wide, open path, but she was still on the verge of tripping up his legs when she came in closer.

She'd been following his scent for the better part of half an hour, and all the while, she'd been desperately panting, running just about as fast as her legs would carry her, all in the name of tracking Carson down.

“Hey...y-you...you, uh...y-you think we can pull over?"

Carson didn't expect to hear anything, save for her rapid breathing, but sure enough, she had the lung capacity to at least try to carry a conversation, even while they rushed for the finish line.

“Can it wait until after the race?" Carson asked. The ram never broke his stride, but after a long stretch, the ewe was finally running side by side with him, much to his surprise. “We're less than a mile out and we're way ahead, you know."

“This can't...it can't wait any longer," she tried her best to explain, but simple words would always fall short of getting such an intimate message across.

Hers were a chaotic pair of eyes: a creamy base held the bulk of each iris, but veins of rich amber ran through like the marbling on a countertop, making hers one of the most unique pairs of eyes he'd ever met with.

More than their fascinating appearance, the narrowing of her brow and the curl of her grin, despite her rapid breathing, told what she might be getting after...but Carson refused to take any chances with such an assumption.

“Unless it's a medical emergency-

“Not medical," she assured him, trying her best to giggle through her arid breaths. “Just... personal."

There would be plenty of offshoots from the main trail before the pair made it to the finish line- most of them being unofficial- but then, Clairice didn't want anyone following them off the beaten path.

She was making a bold assumption, thinking that Carson would buy into her idea in the first place, but as bright as the fires of estrus burned within her, she was going to shoot her shot, no matter the risks.

“I'm not sure if I can really help with something like that right now," Carson still ducked the possibility, but before he could go much further, he felt a quick tug on his wrist.

If not for her expression, he wouldn't have been sure if it was flirty and playful or rude and childish, but when that touch wasn't afraid to break his stride, he didn't think the ewe would have cost herself the lead just to poke fun at him.

“You have no idea...w-what you're turning down," she pointed out.

“Mind telling me, then?"

She'd been locked on his scent for the better part of a mile: spicy, soothing and utterly masculine, that aroma somehow penetrated the otherwise softer scents that came from every flower in the peak of its bloom, from every pollen that wafted from the leaves of the trees all around them.

With Clarice at his side for more than a moment, it became impossible for Carson to ignore her own natural bouquet, mingling with the blessings of Mother Nature around her and enhancing them in a way that only the needs of a heated woman ever could.

“I was trying to be coy; I'm not usually that forward," Clarice confessed. A full, soft coat of white was trimmed shorter than the usual, fluffy overcoat that one would expect from a sheep, and though it was still full enough that it would have hidden a pink blush upon her cheeks, Clarice wouldn't have been quite as modest as usual, just then. “But if you're going to make me s-say it..."

She took a deeper breath, struggling to keep up with Carson's quickening pace. “I'm in heat, I need a good fuck, and if I have to wait until I make it back to the car for some action, I'm going to start dry humping the fucking trees. You in, or you out?"

A testament to Carson's training was the fact that he didn't have to adjust his pace even once from the start of the race, and yet, he'd cleared the rest of the runners by at least a minute or so. He still had another gear of speed to reach, nearer to the finish line...and despite all that, he found himself breathless at Clarice's admission.

“You sure you can't wait until we finish the race?"

“Oh, for fuck's sake..."

Carson wore such a smirk about himself that Clarice didn't feel any guilt for not just nudging him off the main drag, but pushing him toward an offshoot with such force that she nearly tumbled him down that path.

When he tried to slow his pace and avoid that crash, their legs ended up entwined, and with a yelp, the pair tumbled down that shallow drop off, into the thicker grasses that decorated either side of the main trail.

“And they yell at guys for thinking with their dicks too much," Carson groaned, rubbing the back of his skull and looking up from the flat of his back. “Good thing I was planning on running another one of these, next week"

Settled atop him, having used his body to absorb most of the shock, Clarice couldn't have been more chipper with her current position. “Same here, but by then, I might actually be able to focus on the race. I probably would have dusted you if I wasn't so f-fucking horny..."

“...You wanna run that one by me again? Especially when I was going to get first in this race easily , before you decided to turn it into a football game?"

She was a gorgeous creature, settled atop Carson with such a presence that she would have been the greatest prize he could have won, if he still had a chance to win the race.

What existed between them then was an arrogant, but entirely playful back and forth- Carson had since given up on even trying to finish- but with Clarice, he was just getting started...and courtesy of her heat and his passion, they didn't need a warmup.

A black sports bra was already visible under the shaken fabric of her loose, flowing tank top, and down below, tight, short jammers were gripping her body with such a clutch that Carson could actually feel the petals of her womanhood against his cock, even through the extra layer of his jogging shorts.

Heat was certainly the proper term to describe her naturally enhanced sense of need, and against her body, Carson felt like he might be consumed by that intensity...gleefully, at that.

“I know you're not aware of just how much a heat cycle messes with your training," Clarice argued. “You don't have to deal with that, but I do , and...just catching up to you was a chore. Next time, it'll be easy to run right by you."

“Challenge accepted," Carson replied. “Name's Carson, by the way, unless you didn't want that."

“Clarice," she replied. “And it's helpful to know your name so I can personalize my taunts next week[TH2] , when I blow by you and steal your spot on the podium."

Being in heat, Clarice was far more brazen a woman than she'd normally be, and far more receptive to Carson's sudden advances; the slap of two open, eager palms on her backside was met with a quiet, happy gasp, instead of the offense she might have normally given.

“In your dreams," Carson argued. “That's about as likely as a woman in heat tackling me right before the finish line of a race..."

“You still had almost a mile to go," Clarice countered. From Carson's lap, she hoisted away her own top, leaving the sports bra in place purely as a matter of convenience...but she left it up to Carson to strip her shorts away; the way he was grabbing at her backside, she had a feeling she'd enjoy his approach. “But if you stop complaining about your precious race, I promise that I can make you feel better than some stupid medal around your neck."

“Even though you'll be trying for the same one next week?" Carson asked.

His thumbs dipped into her shorts and gave a tug, and much to his surprise, there were no panties underneath her jammers. “No wonder I'm able to feel everything," he whispered under his breath.

“That's different. I won't be in heat anymore, by then," Clarice argued. “At least, not if you do your job right."

The implications rang heavy in the sound of her voice, but Clarice wasn't at all concerned about scaring Carson away, feeling how quickly the trapped shaft of his cock was flooding with vitality.

Still sitting against it, Clarice had plenty of energy left to burn, and a slow grind against that covered flesh was more of a tease for her than it was for him, but she wanted him to be absolutely ready to go, when she finally had a chance to sit on that stiffened member.

“Asking an awful lot out of me, aren't you?" Carson wondered aloud, but he didn't let that keep him from rolling down the tight, sweat-riddled fabric of such tight shorts, peeling them away from Clarice and forcing her to finally lift herself from his lap, even in the slightest.

In that gap, Clarice dropped her digits right to Carson's waistline, tugging at his shorts and capturing the hem of his boxers in the same grip. His hips rolled up, forcing his taut, powerful backside from the ground and giving Clarice a preview of just what he could do with a single thrust...and she grinned wide to imagine just how deep he'd reach, when she finally had a chance to stay in his lap, free of those pesky clothes.

“You say that like I'm not doing my fair share of the work," Clarice argued. With one more tug, she gave Carson's length just enough freedom to snap out of that fabric prison, springing up at her flesh with a tiny bead of precum already running down the underside of his shaft. “And before you even think about complaining, I'll know damn well that you're lying..."

Carson knew better than to try and lie when his flesh was doing the talking, but the temptation was still there to tease Clarice.

Before he could come up with the words, she came up with the next part of their fun, having lifted her leg just enough to ease her shorts down and off of one ankle, but that was all...and that was enough clothing removed for her to sit back down in Carson's lap, this time without anything between the dripping tip of that cock, and the soaking petals of her womanhood.

The first kiss between them wasn't of their lips, but of his tip and her folds, easing into each other with a surprisingly delicate touch.

Carson didn't want to take her without asking if she wanted him to grab a condom- naturally he had none to begin with- but he wanted to ask that question, before Clarice had a chance to move down onto him.

She didn't give him the chance, as a wicked grin parted just wide enough for a heavenly moan to sneak through. “That...t-that's what I've needed," she groaned, her voice low enough at first that she seemed to recall that other runners might be nearby...but that sense of control was fading fast, as she worked her way down the girthy shaft of her latest capture. “That's w-what I've been dying for...Carson...y-you magnificent fucking beast , you!"

Reaching the base of his cock on her own merits, Clarice was delighted to find that the ram wasn't just a handsome face, gorgeous eyes, curled, golden horns and a playful attitude.

For being a man that she'd accosted on a racetrack, he seemed to be the complete package...a little too good to be true, but right then, Clarice was too horny to argue with serendipity.

“That kind of praise, and all I've done is lie here and enjoy the show," Carson teased, hoping those words might cover up the undertone of pleasure in his voice. “Feels like I should have to w-work for that, at least."

“Do it if you're gonna. If not...lie there and let me milk that fucking cock," Clarice demanded, her expression hardening in such a way that Carson, no matter how confident, couldn't imagine ever getting the better of the desperate ewe. “And don't you dare hold out on me, Carson..."

Any other time in his past, Carson would have put emphasis on lasting long enough for his partner, but feeling the way Clarice was already working his flesh from within, he didn't think that her climax was the goal.

She was already in the throes of her first orgasm- one of the greater benefits of her heat cycle- but it was all a double-edged sword, forcing her to pant as quickly as she had at any point in the race.

Her body would completely exhaust itself in the name of milking Carson dry, if it meant that she would know even one fleeting moment of relief.

“How in the f-fuck am I supposed to do that when you're...I...I don't even fucking know what you're doing," Carson admitted, watching Clarice plant her palms against the rigid flesh of his stomach, giving herself another form of purchase to take the burden off of her bucking hips. “I've never felt anything like...like that...nnnfuck!"

Palms that were happy to cup her rump the first time moved right back to place and gripped that flesh even tighter the second time around. “That's it," Clarice praised him, arching her backside into that touch. “Give your paws something to do, Carson...show my body how much you f-fucking love it!"

The SMACK of a thick, forceful paw against eager flesh rang out loud enough that one of the runners passing by, finally having caught up to their pace, hesitated on the main drag...but down in the taller grasses, Carson and Clarice were hidden just well enough to avoid being seen.

Her panting voice blended in with every other runner that was scooting by, and so many of them had earbuds and headphones in that they wouldn't have noticed anything, unless it dropped right in front of their forward progress.

Thanks to that...

“Holy...f-fuck...where have you been all my life, Carson?" Clarice had no shame in singing the ram's praises, bucking down against his flesh with such force that the pap of her hips in his lap would have been audible in any other situation. “Where have you and this gorgeous f-fucking cock been hiding this whole time?"

Enjoying the ride all the while, Carson was happy to sit back and let Clarice milk him dry, just as she mentioned...but feeling his own climax closing in, he held on tight and kicked his hooves at the ground, giving him just enough leverage to thrust up and meet with the ewe's needy flesh.

“Wasn't hiding anywhere," he joked. “You just had to catch up to me."

“Thank goodness I did...but you'd better stay right where you are," she warned him. “No running off again, big guy...you stay right...f-fucking...there..._nnnyes...ooooohfuckyes, yes yes yes _!"

She wasn't facing the trail to know that a host of other runners were scooting by, keeping Clarice from any hint of concern about crying at the top of her lungs.

That voice carried through some of the trees, but most of all, it rung in the ears of Carson, boosting his confidence and guiding his pleasure through the final moments of his own efforts.

“Trust me, Clarice...I'm not pulling out," he promised, sure that he'd picked up on what she really meant. “You're gonna get every f-fucking drop, girl...mnn...mmnnfuck!"

Swinging orbs that were barely contained by his shorts before were bouncing against Clarice on his every, upward thrust, pounding the heated ewe with the sort of pressure that would hint at relief, but for every messy slide of his shaft into her soaking depths, it wasn't until she felt the constant, even pressure of his pulse in his cock and the greater warmth of his cum that she broke from the shackles of her estrus.

“Ooooh, damn! That...t-that's a lot , Carson...that's so fucking much...and I need it ," she declared, still burdened enough by her lust that she sat in place, sacrificing the bounce of her body for the throb of his cock and the constant, pouring elixir of his seed. “All of it, Carson...I...f-fucking...said... all of it!"

Inner muscles had been working his flesh the entire time, but an even greater pressure held onto his cock just then, clenching near the base and forcing the ram to work, if he wanted to properly empty his orbs.

For that reason alone, Carson would have worked himself to the point of exhaustion, but this was an impassioned pursuit: one that had him thrusting into Clarice well after his climax subsided.

“When you say all, you mean until there's n-nothing left to give, right?" he asked anyway, but Clarice, post-orgasm, didn't look tired in the least.

“Obviously," she replied, her voice raspy with the efforts of her first round.

“ Hmmph. Good thing I've been training for a half-marathon..."

Without breaking stride, Carson kept his pace, knowing he'd given everything he had to that first orgasm- his juices were still swirling and gushing around his cock as he jostled Clarice- but he'd make more, before the second round was over.

What Clarice would make would take a bit longer than that, but that would be a surprise for her new jogging buddy, later on...