He would see her every time he closed his eyes. Just standing there, casual as you please. A wraith who refused to release him from her icy claws. Julia, her black and white face totally devoid of all emotion. How often had he fallen for that placid expression? “I’m sorry, Ged,” she would say to him. Her voice was flat, monotone, as if she had practiced the line a thousand times. Perhaps she really had. The rabbit’s long, floppy ears swiveled as she turned her impassive gaze to him. “I think it’s best if we moved on.” Like a knife in the gut. “Truthfully, I never thought it would work out between us.” The cold blade gave a sharp twist. Every time, she would then turn, her slim frame retreating from his vision. Ged stared down at his reflection in the wobbling glass. A tawny rabbit stared back with a drooping muzzle. The memory was always the same, yet it hurt no less, no matter how many times that scene played out in his mind. Ged sat hunched over the polished oak counter, his stool creaking beneath him as he rapped his knuckles on the shining wood. The air around him buzzed as the band, a shining brass quartet, struck up a jazzy number. Beneath the glow of the polished chandelier, the Artemis Club would come alive, tromping the wooden mosaic tiles of the dance floor. The rabbit puffed his cheeks and fingered the glass set before him. Not for him, not tonight. Tonight was not a night for dancing, he mused. “You want to talk, Ged?” The rabbit turned up his snout to face the tabby perched behind the bar. He was clad in a white button down shirt and a dark blue vest that matched his trousers. “I really don’t have much to say tonight, Horus,” the rabbit replied. He downed his glass, allowing the smoky burn of the whiskey to spread down his throat to pool in his stomach. “Just pour me another.” “If you say so,” said the cat. His paw slipped beneath the bar to produce a dull, brown bottle. “But, seriously Ged. Tell me what’s on your mind.” The dark whiskey bubbled in the glass while the cat kept his gaze riveted to the forlorn rabbit. “It’s Julia,” Ged said at last. He picked up the glass, watching the way the alcohol swirled in the low light. “Julia again,” mewed Horus. “So, still hung up on that dame, I see.” The cat’s tail flicked in irritation, but the rabbit ignored him. Taking another swig, Ged set the empty glass down and wiped his lips with the back of his hand before saying, “I can’t get her out of my head, Horus. You know that. I try to look away, but every time, there she is.” The cat’s whiskers bristled. “Look, Ged,” He swiped a worn white rag from the counter and began to wipe down a glass. The dance floor gyrated behind him, caught in the polished surface of the mirror which sprawled across the back wall of the bar. Horus placed the glass aside and flung the rag over his shoulder. Leaning over, his meaty paws spread across the counter, he said, “Between you and me, I’ll just level with you. Julia was no good for you. Everyone said so.” Ged turned up his lip at the cat’s remark. “Is that so? Glad you guys had such confidence in me.” The cat nodded and picked up the bottle. “Now, don’t be getting all melodramatic on me. It’s just, that dame, she had something screwy. Like the elevator didn’t go all the way to the top floor. Trust me, Ged, you are better off without her.” “You don’t say?” Ged offered up a meek grin, his ears drooping to his shoulders. “Hear me out,” the cat said. He waved a paw towards the dance floor. “Look around you. There’s plenty to choose from, just take your pick.” Instead, Ged watched as Horus filled his glass for a third time. “I don’t know,” he said, holding the rim to his lips. “It just seems like it’s too soon, you know.” Setting the bottle aside, Horus braced himself on the counter. His hand up so that the black pad was turned towards Ged, he said, “Listen Ged. I’ll bet you the next person to walk over here is just going to be the absolute chance of a lifetime. Wait and see.” A faint movement beside him roused the rabbit. Ged lowered his glass and turned to find a grey furred beauty had strode up to the bar. Her fur glimmered with a silver sheen in the dim light, squeezed beneath a dress of black satin that the rabbit swore she had to have been poured into. Her auburn hair hung in thick ringlets that draped across her slim shoulders, left bare by her strapless dress. Her face was milk white, bright as the moon. A pair of full, red lips smacked wetly as she smiled beneath eyes as green as the sea. Ged’s eyes wandered from the slim, white throat to the flat, slender chest hidden behind that slinky black dress of shimmering satin. Her hips were wide and round, making the rabbit’s mouth water as he quested the firm expanse of the grey thighs. White creamy fur traveled up the inner thighs to disappear beneath a hem that was dangerously short, exposing more than enough of the sweet curve of her fat, round buttocks, straining like a pair of ripe fruits waiting to burst. Her pink feet were encased in a pair of shining black heels that tapped on the wooden tile of the floor as the opossum turned, her long, hairless tail trailing behind her like a train. But, what astounded the rabbit the most was the massive swell of the creature’s belly. Like an immense black orb, crowned majestically by the smaller hump of her distended navel, the opossum’s gravid middle thrust out from her narrow waist as if it begged for Ged to caress its maternal girth. The rabbit quickly found his palms tingling, the urge to reach out and take that ripe globe overpowering. His cock began to twitch, rubbing against his trousers as he fought to swallow back the growing desire that bubbled up within him. The opossum clasped a long stemmed wine flute with the slender fingers of her right hand, each tipped by a sharp, red nail. In her left, she held a small handbag of black leather. Her gaze traveled down Ged’s broad frame, as if she were sizing him up, before turning back to the bar. “Hello,” her voice was a low, musical purr that shook the rabbit to his core. Ged’s heart hammered in his chest as the opossum asked the bartender for a tomato juice. “Of course,” said Horus, filling the wine glass with a thick, red liquid. “And can’t forget the garnish.” He thrust a long toothpick, a pearl onion impaled on the thin sliver, into the glass. “Thank you, so much,” the opossum replied. She shot the awestruck rabbit a sideways glance. “See something you like?” “I, uh...” the rabbit stammered. The opossum turned and swayed from the bar, but her eyes never left Ged as she retreated to the crushed velvet cushions of a nearby divan. “What did I say?” chuckled Horus. Ged spun around, sweat prickling the back of his neck. The cat arched a brow, his eyes darting to the opossum and then back. “Well, she is um, something,” said Ged. “Seems like a little more than something, Ged.” He pushed himself back from the bar. “I’m telling you, Ged. Forget about Julia. You’ve got a shot with a real knockout tonight. A dish like that doesn’t just walk in every night, you know.” The rabbit tipped back his glass, downing the contents in one sputtering gulp and slammed the empty glass back down on the bar. “Maybe you’re right, Horus.” Looked back over his shoulder. The opossum reclined on the divan, one shapely leg draped across the other, while she swirled the contents of her glass with the toothpick. “Maybe it’s time I started to look for something else.” “That’s the spirit,” mewed the bartender. “Just give me all the sordid details later, alright?” With a crooked grin plastered across his face, Ged was on his feet and making his way across the club floor. Nestled beneath eyelids dusted with a pale violet, her green eyes glimmered expectantly seeing him approach. Her ruby lips, glistening with a wet sheen, parted slightly. “This seat taken?” she heard Ged ask. Plucking at a stray lock which had fallen across her moon face, she picked up her shiny black handbag to make room for the rabbit. “It is, if you sit there.” Taking it as an invitation, Ged quickly lowered himself into the thick cushions. The divan was of rich mahogany, carved in exquisite detail. The velvet cushions creaked softly as he shifted his bulk nervously, suddenly finding himself at a loss for words. The rabbit laced his fingers, unsure of what to say, instead turning his gaze to the space between his shoes. “So, um, I saw you at the bar,” Ged managed to mumble out. “I saw you too,” came the reply. “You seemed rather interested.” The opossum placed the glass to her lips. Ged watched a pink tongue dart from between those full, ripe lips. “I, uh, I’m Ged,” the rabbit said. “Claire,” replied the opossum. “So, Mr. Cottontail. You never did answer my question. Did you see something you liked?” He saw plenty that he liked. Ged swallowed back the lump in his throat, nodding like an idiot to the opossum. Claire plucked the toothpick from her glass. The tiny pearl onion dribbled fat, scarlet drops as she placed it to her lips. Her nimble, pink tongue slid across the white surface. With a click of white, sharp fangs, the garnish disappeared. “I saw you,” Ged said with a dry chuckle. “That was something I liked.” That was a terrible line, he realized, but Claire gave a thin laugh. “I see,” she said. Her long, hairless tail curled around her hip. “And I’ll just bet that you’re dying to know all about this.” She placed a hand on her swollen belly. “Yes, it’s quite real.” Ged gulped. “It is?” Of course it was, how could he have asked that? “Yes,” said Claire. She fingered the glass in her paw. “I should say that I have a certain problem. I just can’t say no.” The opossum leaned in close. Ged could smell the sweet odor of jasmine and vanilla, mingled with the pungent tang of Claire’s natural musk. “How about it? You want to be my next bad decision?” Ged’s heart was pounding in his temples. Claire’s soft, round body pressed into his arm, thrilling him with its closeness. The divan felt as if it had shrunk in size. The rabbit shifted, trying to make distance between himself and the pregnant marsupial. Claire’s eyes glimmered through long curved lashes, fathomless pools of verdant desire that threatened to swallow him up if he did not look away.. “U-Um,” Ged stammered. It was all moving so fast. What was he to do? His body hungered for the warmth of that gravid flesh, to taste the salty tang of Claire’s sweat and inhale the rich, musky aroma of her fur. Suddenly, the band kicked into a slow, soulful number. A tinny lilt swept across the floor, carrying that sorrowful melody to the rabbit’s ears. “You want to dance, maybe?” he said. The opossum arched a trim brow. “Dance?” The question slapped Ged like a bullwhip. But, Claire gently placed the glass down on a low table and clapped her hands together. “I haven’t danced in so long. I’d love to.” Claire’s paw was dry and warm in his fist as he lifted the gravid opossum to her feet. With the slender grey arm tucked into the crook of his elbow, Ged led his companion to the tiled dance floor. Claire’s fur was luminous beneath the soft white light cast from the chandelier above them. A silver radiance that poured across the dance floor, drawing the eye of every onlooker in the club. Ged could not suppress the mad grin which had overtaken his face. She was perfect, so utterly perfect. The crowd melted into a shifting, black mass, formless shapes that waved and swirled around them. Claire’s belly, swollen and heavy, pressed against his stomach, the soft roundness sending ripples of delight to tingle up his spine. His hand resting on her wide, round hip, Claire then laced her fingers into his other and. Her arm around his neck, the pair stepped lightly, letting the soft sway of the band take them. “You dance so well,” Claire said. “I have a good partner,” replied the rabbit. His fingertips played along her hip. The way her muscles moved beneath the maternal padding made the rabbit thrill. Her graceful swaying enchanted him, her swollen belly leading like a black orb as it nuzzled playfully against his stomach. The soft fluttering of new life kicked out, protesting the closeness that pair now shared. The music rose, bubbling into a crescendo that found Ged hopelessly lost in that moon face. The sweet albin cheeks bloomed a faint pink to match the tip of her nose. Eyes, green as glass, held him, drawing him in. Ged fell into those bottomless pools, spinning, shuffling to the unheard beat of the music that flowed around them. His gaze turned from her eyes, tracing the delicate chin to rest upon red, glistening lips. Her mouth was parted ever so slightly, revealing white, straight teeth. Like a string of pearls nestled within a cushion of red silk. Ged’s heart leapt into his throat. His own lips hungered to place themselves upon that honeyed mouth and sip from that sweet chalice. Closer those lips came, as if reaching out for him. Ged was falling, tumbling, careening madly for that ripe mouth. An electric thrill raced down his spine as the world swam around him. It was not until the music died, that the rabbit realized he was kissing the opossum. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” He reared back, leaving Claire’s swollen mouth gaping. Her cheeks bloomed scarlet above the blossoming rose. “N-No, it was my fault.” She smiled weakly. “I should not have just kissed you like that.” “You kissed me?” Ged’s heart hammered. “It was awfully forward of me,” she said. “Forgive me.” Ged gnawed his lower lip, his nostrils flaring. What had Horus said to him that evening? Right, no more missed chances. Ged’s fingers dipped below her chin, tilting her face towards him. This time, he would mean it. With both hands, he clasped her blushing cheeks. “Ged, what are you… Mmm…” Like a proud conqueror, he claimed her mouth. His lips crashing into hers in a bruising kiss which would steal the breath from her lungs. Claire’s fingers flew to his back as the band kicked into another number, but for the two lovers, the world had all but faded into a black swirling mist. Her mouth parted, a pink tongue slithering between her lps, eager to leap into his waiting maw. Ged’s tongue swirled, lashing out, rubbing under the opossum’s tongue, as he explored the red, smooth gums, savoring the taste of her saliva as he plunged down her throat. His hand slid from her tender cheek down the curve of her back, pressing her closer, crushing her gravid belly into him so that her unborn kicked out in a fury that made Claire swoon with dizzying elation. Claire’s body came alive in his hands, her hips bucking, circling, craving him. She grasped at his forearms, his tendons swelling like steel cables, thrilling the opossum. So strong, she thought. His hands were broad and rough, a working man’s hands. He was so unlike the others. Perhaps this time it would be different, it just had to. Hope swelled in her breast as she seized his wrists, guiding his hands over her body. Now, she would lead and Ged would gladly follow. She guided him to her hips, swaying, gliding hips, entrancing him with the smooth muscles which moved beneath her soft fur. Ged groaned through puffing nostrils, tearing his mouth from hers long enough to take a shuddering breath before Claire attacked. Her nimble tongue squirmed in the open air, tangling with the rabbit’s. Shimmering saliva rolled down their chins, sparkling in the light as they continued their primal dance. Claire’s hands rose, bringing the rabbit’s palms to cup her flat chest. Twin dumplings filled his hands, pricking his palms with their hard, little peaks. Through the thin satin, Claire’s nipples stood erect, begging for him to pluck them, twist them. Ged’s belly hungered with the need to tease those blessed stems, to lick and swirl, savoring the succulent flesh. But, Claire soon dropped her hands, bringing his fingers to rest upon her middle. Her ripe, swollen belly, having grown massive with new life enticed him, calling for him to circle his hard fingers around her navel. His fingertips glided across the cool, smooth satin, making Claire tremble in his grasp. “Ngh, Ged,” he heard her whisper. “Yes, Ged.” The rabbit wrapped his arms around her, dragging her to him. Claire’s delicate eyelids closed, her head tilting back to offer her white throat. Ged tipped forward, lowering her to the floor as his lips grazed the tender flesh, his breath was hot and wet, making Claire’s lip quiver in a stifled moan of blissful agony. Her auburn hair cascaded to the floor in a curtain of reddish-brown as Ged traced a path to her collarbone, where he would fill that oasis with his kisses. “Ged,” she panted. “Ged, promise me.” “Anything,” his voice was a syrupy purr. “Promise me that when I open my eyes, you’ll still be there.” The music rose, fell, rising again as the band blared. Ged stood up, clutching the opossum to his chest as if afraid that they would both be swept away on a stormy sea of such giddy ecstasy. Her tiny body shivered in his arms, passions boiling as she at last opened her eyes to gaze into the soft brown eyes of the rabbit. “I’m still here,” he said. Shimmering tears stung the corners of her eyes. “Yes,” she sniffed. “You are.” The band was winding down, the crowd receding back into the gloom beyond the dance floor, but the two remained, lost to the world but for themselves. Ged knew that she was everything. In his mind, the frigid expression of Julia was fast becoming nothing more than a faded memory, replaced by the vibrant, passionate life that quivered in his arms. His hands slid down her back, pressing her pregnant belly to his stomach as he took her mouth in a kiss. His palms cupped fat, wobbling flesh, digging into the swollen pumpkins of Claire’s round ass. The opossum’s tail flicked with a sudden jolt. Desperate fingers clawed at his back, nails raking his furry flesh through his shirt as the rabbit squeezed harder. Agony and sweet, intoxicating ecstasy churned in their brains, desire hot within them. Daring fingers now quested down the curve of Claire’s rump, seizing the hem of her short dress. Ged slithered up under the flimsy garment, his heart leaping into his throat as he took hold of furry flesh. Claire paid him no mind, her legs spreading, white inner thighs soft and warm, compelling him to travel their snowy expanse as fingertips probed the black lace of the opossum’s panties. Bare skin, raw, hot and wet, greeted him. His cock strained against his trousers, eager to spring free as he slid around her hips. Suddenly, he drew back if Claire were something venomous. His face became the color of raw clay, his heart turning to water. “Oh my, “ Claire laughed, tugging at her dress. The hem of her skirt had ridden up her hips, showing off more than a bit of her underwear. “We’d best not give the whole club a show.” Her mouth curved down into a frown as she saw Ged retreat. “Ged? What’s wrong?” “Wrong?” the rabbit stammered. “I’ll tell you. You’re a man!” In his lustful quest, the rabbit had sought for the wet, tight cleft which lay between Claire’s jiggling thighs. To his horror, he instead grazed a pair of firm, full plums, hanging below a surprisingly hard, throbbing branch. Claire blinked, unsure of how to respond. At last, the opossum replied, “I never said that I wasn’t. But, does it matter?” Did it matter? Ged’s mind was a blaze. Horus, that stupid feline, did the cat know about this? No, Ged thought, how would he. But still, he had kissed another man. Granted, Claire was a beautiful man, quite possibly the most enchanting creature had ever known, but still-- “I-I don’t know,” he said. “It’s just, um, you’re another man.” Claire’s fur began to prickle as a cold sweat washed down his back. His body trembled as a seething rage overtook him. How dare he, the opossum fumed. He was just like the others, always so quick to leave when it was convenient. Claire opened his mouth to protest, but his anger instead came out in a single, long sigh. What difference did it make? Another bad decision in the end. Just like the last one. He had believed that he had found the one, then. A fox with the most charming laugh. Their time together was a never ending whirlwind of passion, until Claire’s belly began to grow. It was so unfair. “I suppose this is it,” Claire sniffled. Tears leaked down his white cheeks to tumble in glittering droplets on the floor. “You found me out. I guess you’ll be wanting to go now.” He turned up his face, his eyes red-rimmed and puffy, gazed back at the rabbit. “I just wanted to say, before you leave, that I did have a wonderful time this evening. I’ll just go and get my bag and then be on my way.” Claire turned from the rabbit, making his way back to the divan where his handbag awaited him. The opossum had scarcely taken a single step when a pair of burly arms were entwined around him. Claire let out a squeal as he found himself crushed to Ged’s chest. The rabbit’s heavy body was shaking, his eyes glimmering wetly. “No, Claire,” he said. “I’ve made enough mistakes already. I’m not making another.” He tightened his arms around him, hugging the pregnant opossum tight. Claire nuzzled his snout into Ged’s chest, his heart fluttering. “I-I think I may have had too much excitement for one evening.” He looked up into the soft brown eyes of the rabbit. “Perhaps, you could walk a fella home?” The neon glare of the Artemis Club sign bathed the well worn concrete of the sidewalk in blazing pink and blue as the pair stepped out into the evening air. The faint hum of the distant traffic mingled with the hiss of a nearby car as Ged turned his attention on Claire. The opossum had a thin shawl draped around his slim, grey shoulders. The early evening chill had set in, bringing with it a cool breeze that wound its way through the maze of concrete and steel. Claire drew the shawl around his gravid body, clutching his bag to his chest and shivering slightly as he gave Ged a thin smile. The rabbit slipped his coat off and slung it around the opossum. Claire let out a short gasp, his face blushing scarlet. “Oh, Ged,” he said. “You didn’t have to do that.” The rabbit hugged his burly arms around himself, momentarily regretting his act of chivalry. “Well, I can take it back if you want.” Claire shrank away from the rabbit, clutching the lapels of his coat as if fearing that Ged would suddenly snatch the garment from his shoulders. “It’s just, I would not have taken you for such an old fashioned gentleman,” he said, not able to hold back the smile that curled his ruby lips. Ged slid his arm around the pregnant opossum’s waist. “I guess I’m just that way,” he laughed. Claire nuzzled his snout deep into the folds of Ged’s coat, drinking in the sharp scent of aftershave and the tang of the rabbit’s sweat. Heat bloomed in his cheeks, serving to drive away the evening cold. “My place is just up ahead,” said Claire. He indicated a tall apartment building with a green awning draped above the front entrance. A pale yellow light spilled from the windows of the glass doors, their brass handles gleaming. Claire alighted a set of short steps and placed a hand on the door with a pause. Turning back to Ged, he said, “Would you like to come in? Have a drink, perhaps? Maybe something to nibble? Me?” Ged’s ears pricked up. “You want me to nibble you?” A crooked grin spread across the moon face of the opossum. “Well, if you insist.”