The autumn breeze rustled through the dry leaves, making the entire woods hum as Samuel tipped his felt hat and turned his snout skyward. The blue sky was fast fading to the oranges and reds of sunset. The young fox knew that night would fall quickly out here in the wilderness. 

“Terrific,” he muttered. “Guess another night of sleeping rough.”

He kicked up a whirl of dirt with his dusty paws and adjusted the strap of his old pack. Not a week gone since he had struck off from the family farm. He could still remember the look on Ma’s face as he kissed her goodbye. She dried her eyes with a blue and white kerchief, but bid her son farewell. He was a young man now, his Pa had said. Old enough to be striking off on his own. 

“And on my own, I am,” Samuel said to himself. “Alone with the trees and the leaves.”

The fading sunset was giving way to the first traces of night now. Long, black shadows were reaching across the path like jagged fingers. The wind shivered through the grey trees, making the young fox wary. His ears drooped as the path ahead became steadily more dark. 

“I should have brought a lantern with me.” He gripped the straps of his pack with both hands and marched on. Coming around a bend, he caught a flicker of light. “What’s that?” 

Not far up the path, a squat pile of old stones sat on the side of the road. The roof was thatch, and wood, with mossy patches growing up here and there. From a pair of square windows, Samuel could see light glaring out, making the building appear to be staring at him. 

“An inn?” he remarked. “Well, my luck is changing.”

The young fox shouldered his bag and ran down the path. Finding the door unlocked, he turned the iron knob and stepped inside. The main room was stone. A fresh, dry layer of new straw was spread out over the cool flags. From the far side of the room, a large, stone fireplace smoldered with the remains of a roaring fire. 

“Hello,” Samuel called. 

“Howdy, son,” came a gruff voice. 

Samuel turned to find an old badger leaning over a wooden counter. 

“H-Hello,” the fox stammered. “I was wondering if you have any rooms?”

“Rooms?” came the reply. “Son, I only got two. One’s full up, but I might let you into the other one.” The corner of his lip curled as he straightened his spectacles. 

Samuel felt a strange prickle at the back of his neck. “You might?”

“Aye,” the old badger replied. “A fit, handsome young fox like you.” He grinned, showing a set of yellowed teeth. “I think you’ll enjoy it.”

What did he mean by that? Samuel began to take a step back, when the innkeeper handed him a key. 

“Room’s down the hall, first on the left,” the badger said, indicating the passage with his thumb. “Sleep tight. And don’t worry none about the bill.” He gave a sly wink. “You can settle up in the morning.” 

Samuel, key in hand, turned from the innkeeper and crept towards the hall. 

Behind him, the sly old badger called out, “Or make that the afternoon if you wish.”

“I think I’ve gotten myself into something,” Samuel muttered, his ears drooping to his shoulders. 

Nonetheless, the hour was getting late and he’d rather spend the night in the inn than out in the woods. The hall was a short corridor flanked by two doors. A single lantern hung down from the beam, casting a pale, flickering light onto the cold stones beneath his paws. Coming up to the left door, Samuel thrust the key into the lock and turned. Placing a hand on the dry, warped boards, he said, “Here goes nothing.”

The rusted iron hinge squealed as Samuel pushed open the rickety collection of nailed together boards some might call a door. Illuminated by the light spilling in from the hall, the floor was loose stone, intermingled with patches of green moss. With a cautious air, he placed his foot down and entered the room. The fox stopped, letting his eyes adjust to the low light. The walls were rough block up to about his waist, after that they became wooden planks. Solid oak beams held up the sagging sagging. and here and there, long, ropey vines had wormed their way down between the moldy thatch. A threadbare rug was laid out on the stone floor to lend at least some measure of warmth and a few woven blankets were hung up on the walls for decoration. A simple wooden table and two chairs sat not far from the door and a small nightstand squatted between…

“Two beds,” Samuel remarked. “Why does the room need two beds?”

Sure enough, two single beds sat on either side of the table. Each was made up in the same manner. A white, goose down pillow was placed at the wooden headboard and a rough woolen blanket of green was cast over the old mattress. The young fox unshouldered his pack and placed it on the left bed. Taking a seat beside his bag, he heaved a weary sigh. It was not ideal, but then, it was dry and that was more than enough. Sitting back on his palms, his ears suddenly pricked up as he spied the second bed. 

“What’s this?” he muttered. 

Laying across the other bed was a mandolin. Carved from rosewood, it was a fine piece of craftsmanship with silver strings and polished to a high sheen. As he leaned across the gap between the beds, Samuel took notice of the small gouges and nicks in the fine wood. His slender, black hands scooped up the instrument and raised the delicate base to his snout. Though well cared for, it was evident that the mandolin had seen some use. So why was it lying here? Lowering the instrument back down, he reached a clawed finger out to pluck a shimmering string, when a musical voice called out, “Oh, what’s this then?”

The fox gave a start and dropped the mandolin on the mattress. His heart fluttering, he whirled about to face his attacker. Framed in the open doorway a vixen stood. Her fur was a deep reddish-orange, almost copper. She was clad in a long, green robe, the folds forming a slit that ran up to her ample hip. A light blue shawl, almost grey with age, was slumped about her arms, leaving her perfectly sculpted shoulders bare. In her right hand, she held a beeswax candle, the yellowish wax pooling into the tarnished brass drip pan. Her left hand, meanwhile, carried a stoneware pitcher that sloshed as she stepped into the room. The flickering glow of the candle threw wobbling shadows about the room as the vixen staggered towards the table. Though he was uncertain as to why, Samuel could tell that she was having difficulty walking. With a pained grunt, she sat the pitcher down atop the table. Steaming water sloshed over the mouth of the pitcher to puddle about the tabletop. 

“Oh mercy me,” the female fox muttered. “I nearly spilled it.” Then, as if remembering Samuel was still present, her ears pricked up and she spun around. “Oh, that’s right, it would appear I have a roommate.”

Samuel sat transfixed by the creature. Raven black hair, darker than midnight, was piled up atop her head and held in place by a long, silver pin. But, it was her eyes that held him. Luminous, yellow orbs that danced in the candlelight with a liquid grace that made the young fox’s heart skip. Her lips, at once both full and black, glistened wetly, turning up in the corners of her mouth with hidden mischief as she shambled over to the bed. Setting the candle down on the nightstand, she then folded her hands over her belly and stared at Samuel. 

“So, young traveler,” she began and crossed a long, shapely leg. The folds of her robe fell away to expose the soft, fullness of her orange thigh, the firm curve of her black calf and slender foot. “What brings you to this place?”

Samuel jerked up as if stung. “Me? I, uh, that is…” He pulled off his felt bycocket and worried the hat between his nervous fingers. That yellow gaze seemed to pierce him to the very soul. His cheeks were rapidly growing hot as he dared a glimpse at the enchanting creature. “I’m going on a trip, is all.”

The vixen sat up, her eyes flashing like lightning as her ebon lips parted to reveal white fangs. “Oh, a trip? What kind of trip?”

Samuel placed his hat on the bed beside his pack and dangled his hands between his knees. “Nothing special, I suppose. Don’t really know where I’m headed.”

“Then a journey of discovery,” cried the vixen. “Oh, how delightful. Why, I could write a song about it.” She scooped up the mandolin and strummed a few silvery chords. 

Over the soft twang, her voice began to hum. Samuel’s ears twitched as he listened to her sad, musical voice. Through the high, lilting tune, there came an odd gravelly tone. So unusual for a woman, he thought. 

“My name’s Samuel,” he said at last. “So, I guess I should ask you the same question?”

The vixen stopped strumming and turned a heavy lidded gaze up at the young fox. Placing the mandolin down, she stuck a finger to her cheek and turned her narrow chin to the ceiling. Rolling her eyes, she then smiled and said, “You can call me, Maple. Yes, Maple. Like the pretty trees outside the inn.”

“Maple,” Samuel mumbled. He did not believe the woman was telling him her real name, but he was not about to say anything.

“Oh yes,” chirped the vixen. “I do love maple trees with their big, wide leaves. So pretty this time of year, all orange and red.” Then, returning her hands to her belly, she said, “You look like a strong young man, Samuel. Are you a farmer by chance?”

Samuel sat up rigid as a post. “Why yes, Pa and I just took in the harvest not more than a sevenight ago.” His ears suddenly parted. “Say, you still didn’t answer my question. Just what brings you around these parts?”

The corners of her eyes crinkled as she smiled. Maple ran her middle finger absently along her bare thigh and replied, “I’m an entertainer of sorts. I travel hither and yon, to and fro, singing my songs and dancing for the patrons.” 

She slid her finger down her orange thigh, the soft rasp of fur was almost deafening in Samuel’s ears as he watched that black digit inch closer and closer to the darkness where her leg vanished into her robe. With a smooth flick of her wrist, she pulled her robe over her leg. The spell broken, Samuel turned his gaze up and blanched as he caught those radiant, yellow orbs staring directly at him. Maple’s mouth curled into a sly grin, causing her eyes to narrow. 

“But mostly,” she continued with a little chuckle in her throat. “I’m the type of entertainer who ends up with this.” 

Her hands flew up above her head, sending her shawl fluttering to the stone floor behind her. Samuel’s breath caught in his throat as he beheld her round, swollen belly jutting out over her lap. So that was why she had kept her hands so protectively around her middle. 

When he opened his trembling mouth to speak, the most he could stammer was, “Maple, a-are you, preg--”

“Go on, don’t be shy,” Maple giggled. “I’m certainly not, as you can plainly see.” She placed her hands on her gravid middle. “Though I suppose it would have been better if I was.” She fell back, placing the back of her hand to her forehead. “Oh, lamentable day, that I should allow myself to be taken to the Duke’s bed.”

“The father was a duke?” Samuel squeaked. 

“Heaven’s no,” Maple barked and waved her hand. A small, silver charm in the shape of a fox dangled from the slender wrist. “He was just some drunken lout at the tavern. Dear me, I really must find better taste in men. Ah, but we did make that old bed shriek that night. Oh but do listen to me prattle on.”

Samuel’s face was a flushed scarlet. Never in his life and he heard a woman speak so candidly. His nervous fingers twiddled between his knees while his heart thundered against his ribs. When she spoke his name, it was a breathless whisper, “Samuel.” A fluttering on the autumn breeze that made him want to take her in his arms. “Samuel.” The voice called again, “Samuel.”

“Samuel? You still there?” 

The fox jumped in his seat and looked around the room. “I, um, yes.”

Maple, a hand placed over her snout, was stifling a laugh that made her elegant shoulders shake. “Oh my, you seemed so lost there, dear. So, as I was trying to ask you, where are you heading?”

Samuel’s ears drooped and looked down a small clump of moss growing up between a crack in the floor. “Oh, nowhere I suppose. Don’t really have a destination.”

“Hmm.” Maple rolled her eyes, tapping her chin with a clawed finger. “Nope, I don’t like the sound of that at all. No sir, Nowhere is not a place for a nice young fox like you. I tell you what, you should head to Sweetwater. Yes, it’s up the road a good ways and past the woods, but you’ll love it. That’s where I’m headed, you know.”

Samuel rubbed the back of his furry neck. “Oh, that’s mighty nice of you to offer.” Where she was going? Should he follow her? Pa would tell him to strike while the iron was hot and right now, that iron was red hot. “Maybe, I could perhaps head in that direction.”

“Wonderful,” Maple chirped. Then, clapping her hands sharply, her yellow eyes snapped wide. “Oh, but first how’s about a bath?”

“B-Bath?” Samuel’s heart flew up into his throat. That iron had grown from red hot to blistering white. 

“Yes,” Maple cried. “I was just returning with more hot water in fact.” The pregnant vixen was on her feet and tugging Samuel by the wrists. “Come on, come on. The tub is in the other room.”

Yanking Samuel with a strength belying her plump frame, Maple dragged him to where a large blanket was hung up on the side wall. 

“This inn is small and rather out of the way,” she said, grabbing the blanket. “So to make up for it, they include a bathtub in the room.” 

She pulled back the blanket to reveal a small, stone chamber. Sitting in the center of the room was a large wooden tub. Shaped like the bottom half of a barrel, the tub was constructed of wooden planks held together by a wide, black iron band. Clear water cast wafting billows of steam into the night air, making the room feel humid. 

“Come on, don’t be shy,” Maple laughed. “Afterall, you weren’t so shy about staring at my leg earlier.”

She had noticed! Dread sunk into Samuel’s gut like a lead weight. Meanwhile, Maple was shuffling around the steaming tub to a large, shuttered window. Throwing open the wood shutters, she paused to bask in the cool evening air. 

“Ah, I do love this time of year,” she sighed. “Such a pleasant crispness to the air and look, the moon is out. How lovely.” She turned towards Samuel, framed in the open window her orange fur was red as blood. Her yellow eyes glowed from the shadow of her face like two molten embers. “Can you smell the trees, Samuel. Oh look.” she knelt to scoop a broad, red leaf from the tub. “Why, it’s a maple leaf! How appropriate, don’t you think?”

“U-Um,” Samuel stammered. He turned his snout towards the floor, trying his best not to blush any harder. 

The soft padding of Maple’s feet came up beside him. When he looked up, those luminous spheres were right in his face. His nostrils were overwhelmed by the gentle aroma of warm milk and lilac. 

“Now Samuel, if you want to take a bath you must remove these dirty old garments.” Maple made a playful grab for his leather jerkin. “Come on now,” she said, unbuckling his belt. “Off with them.”

“Hey! S-Stop it!” Samuel pawed at the vixen’s nimble hands, batting her away as she made for his trousers. “I can take those off myself.”

“Well I don’t see you removing them,” she laughed. “Come on, let me help you.”

She dove for the hem of his pants, managing to loop her black fingers around the waist before Samuel squealed and staggered back. 

“Oh fine,” she huffed. “I’ll go fetch the rest of the water. You can get in the tub yourself.”

Letting the blanket tumble back into place, she shuffled out of the room. Alone, Samuel puffed his cheeks and blew through his pursed lips. Now what, he wondered? Doubtful the vixen would let him sneak out. Perhaps the window? Then, his ears parted and he shook his head. What was he thinking? Alone with a beautiful woman and here he was trying to escape. 

“Some man I turned out to be,” he grumbled. “Well, I’ll show her.”

Pulling his jerkin up over his head, he flung the garment to the floor. Next, he peeled his trousers down to his ankles. The cool air felt refreshing on his naked fur. His muscles were firm and solid from a life of hard work, but not yet so bulky. Broad shoulders tapered to a narrow, supple waist and hard thighs. Grasping the edge of the tub, Samuel flung a leg over the side and lowered himself into the hot water. 

“Oh, that’s nice,” he muttered, leaning back against the wooden wall of the tub. 

“I hope the water is to your liking,” Maple called from behind the blanket. “I added a pinch of rose oil to it. For a pleasant scent.”

“It’s perfect,” Samuel replied, and let his eyes close. 

“Good,” he heard her say. 

His eyes snapped open in a flash to find Maple leaning over him. The silver pin had been plucked from her hair, allowing the long, ebon locks to cascade down her back. Gone was her robe, now replaced by a worn, woolen towel clasped carelessly to her breast. In her free hand was the stone pitcher. She smiled and tipped the jug, pouring more water into the tub. 

“There now,” she said, placing the pitcher down. “That should be enough.” She stood, her swollen belly thrust out beneath the towel like a magnificent orb. Her wide, round hips flared out, beckoning Samuel to partake of them. 

The young fox gulped and made to get out, but upon realizing that he was naked, remained sitting. The wily vixen had him trapped. Maple smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she let her yellow gaze wander along his naked body. 

“Mmm, not bad.” Her voice was almost a purr. “Care for me to join you?”

“I-I,” Samuel started. His heart thundered in his chest. “I c-couldn’t just let a strange woman join me in the bath, just like that, you see. I-It wouldn’t be proper.”

Maple’s grin broadened until her white fangs were positively glowing in the moonlight. “Well now, is that so?” Her voice dropped an octave, becoming harsher, more gravelly. “Good thing for you then, I’m not a woman.” She let the towel drop to the floor, exposing her gravid body.

Samuel leapt up, heedless of his own nudity, sending a torrent of steaming water splashing onto the stones. “Y-You, you’re a-- you’re a--”

“A male?” Maple answered. 

Her form revealed in the silver light of the moon, the vixen raised her slender arms above her head, allowing Samuel to take in her entire body. From her supple neck, there swelled two small, ripe breasts, the nipples black and glistening softly in the light. The fur of her belly was a brighter orange than the rest of her, almost yellow. Her gravid middle ballooned out from wide, motherly hips like a ripened fruit. Her soft thighs were plump and luscious, making the fox’s mouth water, that is until he dared to gaze upon the two dangling orbs hanging beneath a furry sheath. Above a fat pair of balls, the black head of Maple’s cock peaked out from the folds her--no, his--sheath. 

Feeling his legs buckling out from under him, Samuel sank back down in the tub as Maple placed a delicate foot into the bath. Now with both feet in the water, he sat on the edge of the tub, his legs together in a most feminine manner. 

“Are you so speechless?” he asked. “You seemed to rather enjoy me when you thought I was female.”

“I… Well,” Samuel blushed and turned away. Maple was right, he had to admit. 

Slipping into the tub, the pregnant male faced Samuel. “I might be a male, but you’ll soon find that I’m more woman than you can handle.”

Maple leaned forward, wrapping his slender arms around Samuel’s neck, the silver charm hanging from his wrist was cool against Samuel’s burning skin. The young fox let out a sharp gasp as Maple’s pregnant belly pressed into his stomach. Soft and warm, he felt the tiny flutters of the fox’s kit moving about within the strange male. He had to admit, it was not altogether unpleasant. 

His face mere inches from Samuel’s, Maple remarked, “A bath is so much nicer with company, don’t you agree?” 

The young fox could only gulp in reply. 

“I must say, lately since I’ve been in this condition, it’s been so hard to wash myself. Can’t seem to reach, you know.” He held up a dripping washcloth. “Would you do me?” When Samuel blanched, he quickly added, “My back, I mean. And especially around my tail.” He raised his bushy tail, now limp and heavy with water. “I would be ever so grateful.”

Samuel lifted a trembling hand and took the warm cloth from the grinning Maple. He leaned heavily upon Samuel, resting his head on the young male’s broad, hard chest. 

“Oh, so firm,” he said. “Surely you must work so hard.” 

Samuel’s hands came down on his back, the wet cloth sliding down the orange fur with a soft, wet rasp. 

“Mmm,” Maple cooed. He lifted his muzzle up, his black lips only slightly opened. “Oh, that is heavenly.”

Samuel’s poor heart thumped as his gaze fell on those plump, ripe lips. Glistening with a silvery sheen, Maple’s ebon mouth parted as he let out another moan of pleasure. Samuel brought the cloth down once more, rubbing the soothing warmth into the pregnant fox’s damp fur. His hands slid down to the base of Maple’s tail and stopped. 

“Mmm, don’t stop there, sweetie,” Maple whispered. “I need my rump cleaned too.” His fat, round ass emerged from the steaming waters like a leviathan. “Come now, don’t be afraid.”

Samuel slid further down, his hands down cupping soft, round flesh. 

“Oh,” Maple sighed. “Oh, that’s perfect.”

His heart pounding in his ears, Samuel swirled the cloth around one cheek and then the other. The crisp tinkle of water droplets echoed in the still air, while outside, the night breeze set the leaves to rustle in chorus. 

“Oh,” Maple sighed. “Yes, Samuel.” His eyes fell closed and his lips pressed out, becoming so full as to appear ready to burst. 

Yet it was Samuel who felt as if he would explode. His lungs burned as he struggled to breathe. His numbed fingers worked mechanically through Maple’s soft, silky fur. The strange male’s body was so delicate, yet so heavy. He felt a longing to possess him, to grasp him up in his arms and never let go. He tried to move, but stopped when he felt a stirring in his cock. Samuel’s ears pricked up when he realized that he was growing hard. He only prayed that Maple did not notice his swelling manhood. 

Maple opened his eyes slowly and smiled. “Perhaps when this is over,” he said softly. He spread his slender, black fingers over Samuel’s chest. “I could dance for you.”

“D-Dance,” the young fox squeaked. He slid the washcloth up the curve of Maple’s spine. 

“Yes,” the reply was a hot, breathless whisper. Maple leaned closer, his lips almost brushing Samuel’s trembling mouth. The young fox smelled the sweet scent of honeysuckle. “It’s called the ‘Flower of Temptation’ and it’s one of my favorites. I hope it’s one of yours, Samuel.” He licked his black lips. “Would you like that? To feel…” Samuel watched the word form on those perfect lips. “Temptation.”

The washcloth hit the water with a loud plop, followed by the sharp crack of hands slapping bare buttocks. Samuel’s clawed fingers dug deep into soft flesh as he clasped Maple’s ass hard. The pregnant male let his mouth fall open with a gasp, allowing Samuel to plunge into the fox’s pink maw. 

“Mmph!” Maple snorted as Samuel’s mouth met his in a bruising kiss. 

His slavering jaws parted, Samuel’s pink tongue darted into Maple’s open mouth. Rough, hot flesh slithered over the pregnant fox’s tongue, rubbing along the smooth gums to savor their softness. Samuel, his nostrils flaring with each puffing breath, crushed the other fox to him. His blood coursed in his ears, pulsing so loud as to drown out the high-pitched squeals of his partner. His strong, hard fingers kneaded the pliable, doughy flesh of Maple’s ass, making the fox arch his back. His lithe muscles tensed, making his gravid body grow rigid in Samuel’s arms. The young fox slid his hands up to the small of Maple’s back, gently caressing the orange fur as he rubbed his tongue along the roof of Maple's mouth. 

“Mmm,” Maple groaned.

Samuel could feel the surrender in the other fox, his body growing softer, heavier, in his arms. He tore his mouth from Maple’s and attacked his supple throat. Maple sighed as warm lips met the curve of his neck. Samuel’s blood surged, his cock swelling painfully into a black throbbing rod as he rained kisses onto that sweet throat. His fingers dug into the soft fur, gripping the other fox hard. He could stand it no longer. He plunged into the ripe cleavage inhaling deeply of the warm milky scent, tasting the tangy sweetness of the black nipples, their bumpy flesh glistening like ripe fruit in the moonlight. Maple wrapped his arms around Samuel’s neck and gasped. 

“A-Ah, Samuel,” he cried. “Oh my.”

But, the young fox was not to be stopped. Summoning his raw strength, he lifted the pregnant male up to send them both crashing into the side of the tub. Water splashed over the sides in a great wave, slopping onto the stone floor. 

“S-Samuel,” Maple shouted. “Control yourself.”

Samuel grasped his fat, round body, turning the pregnant fox over. His wide, orange ass rose up from steaming waves, the bushy tail curling over his back as Maple turned back with wide, yellow eyes. In his mind, he could hear his Pa telling him to be a man. 

“Yeah, Pa,” he muttered, seizing those delicious hips. “I’ll show you how much of a man I’ve become.” 
His swollen, throbbing knot speared those ripe cheeks, plunging hard and deep. 

“Samual, nyah,” Maple cried. He gripped the edge of the tub, wincing from the sudden thrust. “A-Ah, Samuel… Samuel…”