[center][b]Mutual Surprises[/b][/center] [center]By Kaydrien Iceclaw AKA IcyCoatl[/center] This was the best branch in this part of the woods. Renamon knew it. A perfect place to meditate, and shaped comfortably to take no special effort to balance on. It was also an excellent defensible point; Renamon wouldn’t be Renamon if that hadn’t factored into her evaluation. All potential avenues of attack were easily visible, and conversely those areas not easily surveilled were difficult to navigate. There was ample cover to retreat to if necessary. Renamon found that sort of thing relaxing. Less relaxing than usual: Right now she could hear something small struggling through quite possibly the worst, most brush-choked segment of foliage within three hundred meters. Small… and if she guessed correctly,[i] annoying.[/i] Renamon did guess correctly: Not far away the diminutive figure stifled a yelp as a particularly vicious bush scraped his knee, tripping him onto the ground. Groaning he pushed himself upright with red-gloved hands, narrowly avoiding cracking his skull on a branch. He knew Renamon ought to be nearby somewhere. The fox periodically disappeared in this direction, so she must be. For that reason alone he hadn’t turned back already. He wanted… no, he needed to talk to her. Somewhat hopelessly he pressed through another clawing thicket of murderous twigs, scanning as best he could. A stray air current carried his scent up and around to Renamon’s nose and confirmed her suspicion. That was Impmon was down there, for certain. Well, if he wanted to stumble around that was his business. She could just close her eyes and wait for him to wander away. Unfortunately a moment after this plan formed, it was holed under the waterline by Impmon opening his mouth. “Hey, Renamon! Where are you?” The fox digimon’s eyes wedged themselves shut harder. “Renamon! I want to ask you something. Where are you?” Bother. Among the small virus-type’s many flaws was an eternally misplaced persistence. If he was looking for her, he could be crashing about down there for ages. She wouldn’t get any calm that way. Probably faster to get rid of him. “I am here, Impmon.” There was a sharp rustle of skin against leaf against branch and a yelp, as the diminutive searcher started in place and found the sharp end of a broken twig. More rustling, getting closer, culminated in Impmon emerging near the roots of Renamon’s perch. His head turned this way and that aimlessly. After a comical length of time Renamon had mercy on him: She deliberately shifted her weight, the motion finally attracting his eyes upward. “Oh!” He punctuated his exclamation by pointing up at her accusingly. “There you are! Do you know how [i]long[/i] I-” Then, strangely, he paused. Impmon lowered his hand, expression visibly softening as he puffed out a breath and started over. “Know what, forget about it. You mind coming down here? I got… something kinda important I wanna talk about.” For a moment Renamon stared icily down at the virus type, noting the slight nervous shuffle of his feet. Then in one smooth movement she swung down from her lying-down position on the branch to stand lightly on the ground. She towered over the smaller Digimon, arms folded. “Then talk. I assume we are not under attack.” Her head tilted. “At least I hope you would know to lead with that information if we were.” Impmon stiffened, eyes wide, and waved his hands in front of him in a negating gesture. “N-no! No, no. We’re not under attack. It’s… well…” He trailed off, staring up at her. “What?” Renamon’s eyes narrowed. In thought, in suspicion, a hint of worry; He hadn’t countered the implied insult or even protested. He couldn’t be flustered, could he? Or up to something… “If this is some sort of joke, I am not amused.” Impmon’s head shook violently from side to side. “No joke, I swear, I have something I really want to tell you.” He didn’t meet her eyes, taking a deep breath before he continued. “I just, uh… dunno how you’re gonna react. But… Uh… Well…” The fox watched him stammer impassively. And mused that if only she could bottle whatever it was that rendered him speechless, there were times it would be extremely useful. “If you tried actually saying something, perhaps?” The imp paused again, body language going silent. His eyes lifted to hers and he spoke quickly as if not to let the words escape unsaid. “I [i]like[/i] you, alright?” “You… like me?” One skeptical eyebrow rose on her narrow yellow face. She recrossed her arms and looked up at the forest canopy as if for an explanation of this baffling statement, then back down at the other Digimon who nodded furiously up at her. “Yeah, I like you! Like… a lot, okay?” He gestured vaguely. “You’re one of the best Digimon I’ve ever seen, you’re strong and smart, and…” Impmon trailed off, a blush beginning to make itself known on the white skin of his face. “I’m flattered?” Renamon tried. Mostly, she was puzzled. Impmon didn’t make a habit of dispensing compliments to, well, anyone. Except occasionally to himself. And even then they always seemed tinged with sarcasm. Now that she thought of it, she traced a large portion of her surprise to its root in astonishment that he liked [i]anyone[/i]. “…And…” Either he didn’t hear her or he was locked into grim determination to finish his earlier statement. Regardless, he gulped, dragged his gaze right back to her blue eyes, and said, “I think you’re beautiful.” Impmon seemed to freeze in place while Renamon’s blue eyes rested on him, still and searching. Then they widened explosively as she placed his demeanor; nothing that had ever been directed at her, to her knowledge. Haltingly she felt her way through the unfamiliar idea. “You like me… romantically? You find me attractive?” His eyes dropped to the ground, blush intensifying, rubbing self-consciously at his arm as he nodded. “Yes. Like that.” Renamon cocked her head, considering. Each heartbeat seemed longer than the last as they stood like that, Impmon squirming and Renamon still as a statue. After a full minute and a haft of dead silence the smaller Digimon winced, turned and started away. “I knew it. Sorry for wasting your time. I’ll jus’ go-” A firm grip closed on his shoulder and halted his momentum before it really began. Renamon had dropped to her haunches and was now crouched just behind him, leaving her still half a head taller than the purple Digimon. “Wait.” Impmon did as instructed. Numb. Just taking in the moonlight on her angular face. Elegant shadows and hard illuminated surfaces like some exquisite carved vase. Renamon’s gaze was direct. Gently she turned Impmon to face her. “I don’t think anyone has ever been attracted to me before.” He blinked, thought re-engaging with a shock. “Wait, really?” She tilted her head (to the left this time, some part of Impmon noted) and she looked him up and down as if inspecting with new eyes. “Not that I am aware.” “No one?” He asked incredulously, eyes wide in disbelief. “You’re amazing! Why wouldn’t anyone else be-“ His breath juddered like a gear failing to catch on the first try. “-attracted to you?” Renamon’s eyes flicked away, almost too briefly to notice. Almost. And she shrugged. “I do not think I am considered very…” She searched for the right word. “Approachable. Which suits me just as well. But you [i]are[/i] attracted to me?” After a moment the corners of his mouth swept upward the tiniest bit. Not remotely the cocky smile Renamon was accustomed to see on his face. This one was genuine. Timid, but genuine. He nodded in response to her question and answered simply, “Yeah.”’ “How…” She inspected him again from top to toe. Then looked away. Then shifted her weight. With a jolt, Impmon realized Renamon was fidgeting. [i]Nervous[/i] fidgeting. Renamon. Fidgeting. Those words didn’t go together. And then he realized she was talking again. “…does this work? Is there something I’m supposed to do?” Impmon found himself unintentionally copying her motion. “I. Uh. Does…. Are you saying you like me back? Romantic like.” For a heartstopping moment Impmon feared he had said the wrong thing. She froze, muscles stiff, and her usual intent, penetrating, all-perceiving look came back. Then her muscles loosened once more and her eyes softened ever so slightly. “I don’t know. It isn’t something I’ve ever considered. That is why I asked.” At least that wasn’t a no. The implied suggestion that he take the lead, or more specifically that she would at least consider following his lead on this, steadied his spinning mind and drew a timid idea out into the forefront. “Well… There is something. But we don’t have to do it if ya don’t want to.” “What is it?” She blinked at him intently. “If you want to. We can try…” The pressure forced a nervous little chuckle out of him. It was easily half squeak. “…kissing.” “I’ve seen that. Like this?” Without warning Renamon pulled him close by the shoulders and pressed her snout to his, noses colliding in the awkward maneuver before she pulled back. Heart racing Impmon fought the reflex to rub his nose where she had bumped into it. “Uh. Nooo I think that was a nuzzle, kissing is more…” He lifted a trembling finger to point at his mouth, which was twisted into an uncertainly wobbly grin. Renamon tried again, craning her neck at an awkward angle to try to press her mouth against his, a brief peck. “Is that better?” She asked uncertainly. (Uncertainly! [i]Renamon![/i] …okay it still amounted to ‘professionally inquisitive’ by most standards, but it was downright tremulous for the digital fox.) “I haven’t paid very much attention to kissing before this.” “Better. Yeah.” Impmon licked his lips, contemplating his position before settling into the age-old attitude of ‘now or never’. With effort, he could even keep his voice from trembling. Much. “But if you want, I can show you how I seen it.” Her foxy eyes sharpened on him and for an instant he thought she would refuse. There had been pointed limits on the trust between them up to now, after all. But she must have decided that his expertise outweighed hers in this matter, because she nodded. “First you turn your head a bit like… this.” Impmon demonstrated by inclining his head to the right. “But you do it the other direction than me, okay?” Renamon followed suit, correctly intuiting his direction and angling her left ear downward. “So we are at ninety degrees to each other?” “I uh.” Impmon sifted through his limited mathematical knowledge. “Yeah. Then you stick your lips out just a little bit-“ “Were these humans doing this?” Renamon asked. “Yea.” He admitted. “They looked like they was enjoying themselves though.” He shrugged and scratched the back of his neck self-consciously. “If ya don’t want to...” “No. I simply lack the muscles needed to press my lips out.” The fox pointed at her mouth, where the thin seam trembled with an abortive attempt to follow Impmon’s directions before returning to their more usual resting vixen face. “Strictly speaking, I am not certain an anatomist would say I have lips. Certainly I do not have very [i]much[/i] lip.” To demonstrate she hooked a clawtip under and pulled a little, showing that there was a centimeter at most of thin flesh covering her teeth and gums. She let go. “We can try anyway, and I will observe your technique. Perhaps I can improvise.” “Okay that sounds-“ Amazing. She was actually going to let him…! He perked up, nodded, voice shaky. Reaching up to put his hands on her shoulders as best he could he stood on his toes to get that little extra distance. “Alright, here goes…” Ever so carefully he tilted his head, a motion she mirrored. Their lips (and lack thereof) [i]met[/i]. While Impmon worked to cope with the heady culmination of his wildest hopes, Renamon found the experience peculiar. Impmon’s lips pressed against the outside of her mouth, showing more dexterity than she would have thought. Not that she had paid too much attention to anyone’s mouth before now, barring occasions where someone was trying to bite her. A warm soft contact against her own mouth had never been a possibility she examined. She gave the matter some thought and decided, as the kiss reached the eight-second mark, that she ought to be actively participating somehow if only to keep Impmon interested. As she couldn’t respond exactly in kind, perhaps using a muscle group she did have would do. Her jaw opened a fraction to allow her tongue passage. Impmon jolted slightly out of his happy daze from the wet contact, surprised to find Renamon’s tongue prodding at his lips. She couldn’t want to French him, could she? Beautiful, strong, stern-as-heck Renamon getting into it. Well, no, not exactly; that would require her to know what a French kiss was. But Impmon wasn’t up to making that connection. And the intent to use her taster was clear enough. Not so much on purpose as in surprise he let his jaw the tiniest fraction, the unexpected opening letting her tongue slip in between his teeth to bump his. She jerked back an inch in surprise to look at the flushed virus-type owlishly. “I’m sorry, you surprised me. Was I not supposed to use my tongue?” Impmon didn’t look like he was expecting an apology. He looked awed. Then the fact of being asked a question penetrated, and he shook out of it to answer with a reflexive honestly. “Not for the first kiss, it’s kinda-“ He dumbly realized how he sounded and corrected course sharply mid-phrase. “N-not that I didn’t like it, I just wasn’t expectin’ that.” “I see.” Renamon thought about that, rearranged his words in her minds to look for meanings. “Does that mean there is more than one kind of kiss?” Unsure where this question was headed, Impmon nodded. “Then, since I do not have much in the way of lips, I think we should try one that relies more on tongues. Is that agreeable to you?” And she said it with a totally straight face, too. Given recent discussion maybe she couldn’t do anything else, but it still stirred a horde of butterflies up in the pit of Impmon’s stomach. “Yeah, I think we can do that.” “Then show me.” Renamon leaned forward, expectant, jaw opened slightly for however this was meant to work. By now she knelt directly on the forest floor, almost the right height. Impmon’s eyes widened and he laughed nervously. Pausing only briefly to nerve himself he leaned in again to plant his lips against hers. Renamon waited calmly for it, examining by feel as Impmon’s tongue cautiously wriggled between her dainty fangs. She opened a little wider out of concern she might accidentally harm him with those sharp points, and as his tongue made contact with hers the fox had the peculiar experience of a moving thing inside her mouth. Experimentally, she pressed back, sliding over his organ of taste and past his lips. Impmon shivered in excitement at the brush. Now that he was expecting it, the intimacy hit him hard. He lightly licked over her rough taste buds a few times, and though she may have been mildly perplexed by the motion she returned the gesture, going back and forth between themselves until their tongues were practically wrestling. Renamon’s ran over the viruse-type’s teeth, bemused by the relative lack of points, before retreating back. More so that Impmon could catch his breath than so that she could. His breath smelled like peanuts. She decided not to ask, under the circumstances, if he had obtained those legitimately. She had no way of knowing he was noticing the taste of apple on her lips- taken from one of the shrines to Inari near the edge of the forest. Being meant for a fox in the first place made the offering fair game of course, and not even slightly the same as shoplifting a bag of peanuts. “That is strange.” Impmon blinked, found himself looking back into her eyes from close quarters once more. “Strange?” “I didn’t think saliva had a taste.” Renamon shrugged, seeming less rattled by the deep kiss than Impmon was. Not that that meant anything, considering her poker face. “But I suppose it’s different if it belongs to someone else.” “Wellllll…..” A bashful grin played over Impmon’s mouth. “Yours was nice.” Renamon had to stop and think about that. “Thank you. I found the experience… more pleasant than I expected, as well.” “I’m glad you liked it, Rena-“ Impmon stopped short, startled by a message from his peripheral vision. He glanced down, then stared to confirm what his eyes were telling him. “Renamon… What’s that?” She traced his gaze downward between her legs. [i]Oh. My junk code is showing.[/i] As calmly as she could manage (which was pretty damn calmly, aside from a hint of a blush under yellow fur) she leaned back, covering the sliver of red in the late evening light with a hand folded over her groin. “I apologize. Pay it no mind, it will go back on its own.” Impmon’s brain had once more short circuited from the unexpected revelation. He stared at the fox he was crushing on, trying to wrap his head around the new information. “You’re a boy?” A slight twitch raced down the digital fox’s spine, radiated out through her whole body- presumably including the plush sack and unmistakable pointed tip Impmon had glimpsed peeking out from the equally plush sheath! The motion didn’t reach Renamon’s face, which had frozen into a confused neutrality. Her response did not sound particularly certain. “…No?” “I saw that plain as day though! You definitely got a-“ Under other circumstances Renamon would find that choking noise hilarious. In fact, a part of her mind filed it away for later hilarity. For now Renamon’s ears flattened back and her (her?) head tilted to nearly forty degrees of uncomprehending puzzlement. “Yes, I apologize again. That code doesn’t usually load like this, without meaning to.” “It’s, uh.” Impmon blinked blankly, wracking his brain. This development was totally unexpected. But in some ways it changed absolutely nothing. He found one corner of his mouth quirking upward in a smirk of amusement despite his continued befuddlement. “Soooo does that happen often?” “When I need to relieve myself of course. On its own… not very often, thankfully.” Renamon’s ears folded themselves even lower in embarrassment, then relaxed slightly as she noticed something else. “I’m relieved to see I’m not the only one to have that glitch.” Impmon’s eyebrow raised querulously. “Not the only one? What do you mean about-“ He abruptly cut himself off, eyes widening as he realized what she must have meant. The virus-type’s eyes darted downward, confirmed in a flash that his own ‘little friend’ had decided to show. And was completely hard. With a yelp his hands shot down to cover himself. “That’s not a glitch though!” The protest came out squeaky as his face reddened. “I’m a guy! I’m supposed to have this!” “Am I not supposed to?” Actually, by ‘glitch’ Renamon had been referring to the inconvenient and embarrassing way her genitals occasionally loaded themselves without warning, but Impmon appeared to be focused on something else and it seemed wise to try to follow his chain of thought. Impmon’s blank expression and moment of dead silence seemed to suggest her question was either a very difficult or a very stupid one. “Uh, w-well…. Everyone thinks you’re a girl, and girl’s don’t… uh….” His voice trailed off, eyes lowering once more to Renamon’s crotch. “They don’t…?” Renamon pulled back her hand from between her legs to look at her junk code thoughtfully. The pointed shaft had, if anything, extended a little further from its velvety nest so a double fingerwidth of red skin was exposed to the air. “Oh. Are you trying to say that girls don’t have this?” Impmon’s expression was trying to do something odd on his face as he choked on his thought, waving one hand in a wild pointing gesture. “No girls don’t have those!” Renamon vaguely remembered back, way back into the past when as a viximon she had briefly investigated the difference between boys and girls. She seemed to recall hypothesizing something along the lines Impmon was suggesting, but discarding the idea based on herself and a chance meeting. She had lost interest in the subject shortly after, as it seemed to make little difference. “Oh. I met a Digimon girl with one once though. That is, she said she was a girl.” “Well, like.” Impmon drew himself up with arms crossed and flushed face turned in an embarrassed huff, unaware that he had revealed his own equipment again while he was juggling a memory he only half-remembered and hadn’t thought about since. “[i]Usually[/i] only boys have that? I guess I heard some folks don’t match, or something.” Renamon opened her mouth to question this eloquent, detailed, well-researched explanation of transsexuality and gender identity… but changed her mind. It wasn’t really the important point to her. “I’m sorry then. I didn’t mean to kiss you under a false pretense. If you wish, we can pretend it never happened.” Impmon jolted upright, waving his hands in front of him in a refusing gesture. “No, what? No, no!” He denied with a panicky swiftness. “It’s all right. I really liked kissing you, even... with the surprise. And all the stuff I said about you being beautiful and cool is still true so-“ The burst of certainty she had startled out of him abruptly tapered off, leaving him to blush and slowly feel his way through the rest of his statement, tapping his index fingers together awhwardly. “-so… Can… we keep going? If you want.” “If you don’t mind, then I have no objection.” It made Renamon feel oddly safe, like she had accidentally left her blind side vulnerable in battle and Impmon had covered her. It felt like a point in his favor, now his position as a potential romantic lead was on her radar. Something else had occurred to her as well. “Should I tell Rika? Or the others? I mean to say, is it rude to let them keep thinking of me as female?” “Well…” Impmon paused, unsure what to say to the fox sitting with crossed arms resting on her knees and looking at him with more trust than he was accustomed (or, candidly, than he generally deserved). Unsure what to say to him. That seemed equally right, but it didn’t matter. And just like that, that was his answer. “If you don’t wanna, then I don’t think it’s any a their business. But I don’t figure they’s the types to give you a hard time. Up to you.” Impmon might have left it at that, but something more seemed called for. He capped it off with with a wobbly thumbs up, and the solidest smile he could manage. “I’ll, uh, I’ll support ya either way.” “Thank you, I will think on it.” Renamon’s stance loosened slightly, and she glanced down between Impmon’s legs. “Does that happen to you very often? Your junk code loading on its own? I have never asked anyone so I don’t know if it’s normal.” Impmon jerked again as if to cover the flagging pole and tackle, before seeming to remember that they were equally exposed. Not the time to be unfair. “Well…” He rubbed the back of his neck for something to do with his hands besides cover up. “Often enough. Just usually I’m alone for it.” “That is lucky.” Renamon agreed with the sentiment as she understood it, completely unaware of his other meaning- or the fact that Impmon was often thinking of her those times alone. “May I take a closer look?” Impmon blinked back at her blankly, then glanced down at himself. He judiciously discarded a sarcastic comment about at least buying a guy dinner first. “I don’t see why not.” “Thank you.” The fox leaned in close enough that Impmon could [i]feel[/i] her breath on his dangly bits. But she was careful not to touch- quite. She ducked back smoothly out of the way when the purple tube with it’s mushroom-like heat twitched upward slightly. “I haven’t had the opportunity to see anyone else’s, up close.” “You’re welcome.” Impmon had to work to find something to do with his hands to keep them out of the way. “I guess you wouldn’t have, huh?” “Yes, I imagine I would have… learned some things about myself earlier.” Renamon leaned to the side to inspect the plumping shaft and the purple balls hanging under it thoughtfully. “Yours look different from mine.” Impmon, who had settled on clasping his hands behind his back, could answer a little more confidently on this point. “They come in different shapes’n’sizes, not all that surprisin. Not bad, eh?” Renamon, who had no idea one way or the other, ignored the compliment bait. She did not even identify it as such. That one could find one’s junk code size a source of pride hadn’t ever crossed her mind. Luckily Impmon’s mixture of exhilaration and nerves cushioned his ego from denting too badly by the omission when she simply said; “I see.” Her eyes followed the tip of Impmon’s developing half chub upward. When she spoke next, her tone’s neutrality might have had a smidge of effort behind it. Masked curiosity? “And yours is getting larger. Does that mean something?” He tugged at his neckerchief, uncertain how to feel about the sheer innocence of this ruthlessly competent fox. (His penis knew how to feel; harder, that’s how.) “It means I’m getting, uh… excited.” “I don’t know whether this counts as exciting.” Unexpectedly, Renamon found she wasn’t certain that was the truth; She always made a point of being very self-aware, and it hadn’t escaped her that her breathing and heart rate were trying to pick up the pace. There was something else as well. A… tension. “Is that from me looking, then?” “Yeah.” Impmon nodded. A gambling impulse made him add, “If you want you can touch it.” The odd- he hoped not suspicious- look she gave him send a jolt of tension up his spine. (It absolutely was suspicious). But she didn’t comment. Instead, at the behest of her own unfamiliar impulses backed by curiosity, she took him up on it by gingerly extending her index claw to poke at his swelling maleness. It wobbled. Her hand hovered downward to cup his balls. Smooth without any fur to cover them, they hung lower and looser than hers. Touched by the Digimon of his infatuation in a way he could only have dreamed of before, a tiny moan escaped Impmon before he could bite his lip. Renamon’s hand jerked back in response, breaking contact. “I’m sorry, was that painful?” She found Impmon’s face reddening again rapidly. “N-no, just- It’s nothing. Actually it was pretty nice.” “Ah. Then I will continue.” She smoothly reached out again, risking a gentle squeeze that caused his balls to slide against one another in his sack before brushing her furry finger up the front of his erection. Impmon quivered from the intimate touch. Panting through his nose in arousal now, he couldn’t help but glance between the legs of the Digimon touching him. Stare at the red tip whose existence had moved them onto their current exploration. A couple inches of soft, slippery skin nested in a white velvet sheath. Nowhere near hard, he had to assume, but it seemed oh so inviting. And suddenly Impmon was seized by a desire to know what the organ he had never been aware of until today looked like in its entirety. “Renamon?” “Yes?” The fox squeezed his shaft slightly between thumb and fingers, intrigued by the texture of soft on soft-hard and fascinated by her own interest. “Do you-“ Impmon gulped, trying to clear his thoughts. That grip on his hardon was damned distracting. “Eh. Think I can touch yours?” The idea dragged her out of her absorption. She froze for a couple seconds, then nodded deliberately. Still sitting on her haunches and balanced on her feet she straightened. Renamon made it look easy to shift her center of balance that way, hands gliding away from Impmon’s crotch and around to casually prop her weight on the ground behind her, presenting with legs spreading to give her companion easy access. “That would seem only fair.” Despite himself he hesitated. Disbelief at his luck. “Go ahead.” Renamon added. Impmon stepped forward nodding and got to his knees between her legs. Cautiously he reached forward, one more moment of hesitation before softly closing his fingers around shaft and sheath. Renamon twitched only slightly at the feel of him sliding her plump plush sheath around her penis. Strange, to have someone else touching that area for the first time. More sensitive than she had been aware from her own perfunctory handling. He took his time, unwilling to ruin the moment by going too far or- heaven forbid- hurting his crush. He ran a thumb down the exposed anterior, a light massage with his other fingers holding it steady forward. “So, what do ya think?” “I thought you might just look. This is pleasant, though.” Renamon admitted. Not like anything she had imagined. She had never masturbated before, too focused on other things to notice the possibility. And more, her penis seemed to be creeping out of her sheath in response. Four smooth inches on display and exposed to the air, throbbing a little further moment by moment. “I aim to please.” Impmon’s grin was cheeky. With more length to work with, about as much as his own erect dick, he stroked it to enjoy the slight reactions he could tease from the rigidly controlled fox. A tiny twitch of tail or the muscle under Renamon’s thigh fur. Usually he had to get really mouthy to get any rise out of her at all. An obscure curiosity overtook the lovestruck imp. Without warning he leaned in close, inhaled a huge whiff. He found the smell more intense than expected. Rank, animal, and yeasty. It might even be described as nasty- foxes, even digital ones, have a [i]distinct[/i] smell to them- except that it went right to his crotch and make him throb. Renamon’s brows rose in surprise to see Impmon inhaling her junk’s aroma, eyes crossing but not pulling back. Impmon had never impressed her as having a particularly keen sense of smell, no snout to speak of, and using what he did have like this… The imp seemed to snap out of his stupor from the weight of her bemusement. “Uh. Sorry. You smell pretty good.” “I can safely say I have never been told that before.” She said without a hint of self-consciousness. Renamon, let it be said, only accomplished this through years of ‘stony expression’ practice. Inside she was clamping down on the awareness that she had been planning her next bath in less than an hour. For that matter, she was suddenly suppressing embarrassment from the recollection that she maybe wasn’t quite as diligent about cleaning her junk data as she should be. It was safely put away most of the time, after all, so what did it matter? If Impmon had reacted to her hygiene with the disgust she would have expected, in his trademark insulting sarcasm, she probably would have had to deck him. This enthusiasm just made her… Uncomfortable? Something like uncomfort, but with a sweet bashful tang to it. Her penis didn’t have any such mixed feelings. It grew yet another inch. Impmon looked to have his own complicated emotions on the subject, by his face. And with them a thought. He snuffled at Renamon’s fragrant cock a little bit more while he worked his way up to voicing it. “This might sound kinda weird.” The virus-type’s blush was again on the waxing half of the cycle it seemed to be following today. “But would ya rub this on my face?” Renamon’s ears stood on end, quivering. Her eyes didn’t pop, because they never did something as emphatic as that, but they widened. “Why?” “I dunno, call me curious.” His grin forced itself into imitation confidence. “About how that would feel like.” Renamon opened her mouth to say no… and then didn’t. She glanced down at the erection that was further out of her sheath than she had known it could go, bobbing enthusiastically between them. The fox thought she might be a little curious too. “Hold still.” With care not to lose her balance, Renamon pushed off her hands and came smoothly to her feet. She had to widen her stance and bend her knees somewhat to put her groin at the right level and reached down with a hand to press the red protrusion against Impmon’s forehead. He shivered at the contact. Hot skin against his forehead, then slowly dragging down over his face. “You’re going to smell like me.” Renamon noted. She was having to focus to keep her balance in the awkward position, but had enough attention left over to notice how her equipment seemed to be extending even further from the pleasant friction. Just how large was the organ she had spent most of her life ignoring, anyway? There were five, nearly six inches of damp, vaguely rocket-shaped red flesh slathering over Impmon’s face already. “You make that sound like a bad thing.” The lovestruck imp breathed. He reached out to take hold of her free hand on an impulse, pulled it around to the back of his head. “What if I wanna smell like you, foxface?” The suggestion made Renamon’s heart jump, about the hundredth surprise of the day. “I think I can do that.” She accepted the unspoken invitation to take control with a grip on the back of his head, and traded rubbing herself on his face for rubbing his face into her. The rub was a good feeling; moreover, grinding the smelly dampness of her junk onto his skin was definitely ‘exciting’. Even more so as Impmon leaned into the treatment, mashing face against steadily growing cock with a newfound sort of hunger while he breathed in her smell. After a few moments of this delightful new experience they both felt something change. The friction pulled Renamon’s sheath against the virus-type’s sniffing nose, a little harder, and then there was a tactile slip as it lost purchase on a previously unsuspected knob of cockmeat. Startlement made them both pull back, which let her now fully hard endowment flop forward, tip splatting against impmon’s cheek, source of the pop they had felt revealed at the base of the fox’s shaft where it hat tugged free. Renamon had a knot. About two and a third inches wide. Taken together with the thick shaft, she was carrying almost eight inches of fox-cock between her legs. The balls under it, not at all small, now looked it in comparison. Impmon let out a low whistle of approval, eyes locked firmly on Renamon’s full erection. He couldn’t have stopped himself from reaching up to feel it, hefting it by one hand under the shaft and another to cup the meaty knot. They paused, taking it in. It was strangely satisfying to have her penis bounce off Impmon’s face like this, leaving a little snail trail between his eyes. (She was going to assume it was supposed to be leaking unless he said otherwise.) Funny how she could have this… slab of code, and not realize there was so much of it. At least her balls showed no sign of doing anything surprising. “You…” Renamon broke off, incongruously thinking that she would very much like to cop a feel of her own- but Impmon very much looked as if that would start a tug of war for the privilege. Later then, alone. She settled for putting a hand out to a branch to steady herself while the other hovered awkwardly. “…Said they come in different shapes, I believe?” “Yeah…” Impmon’s expression was slack with awe, mouth hanging a fraction open. “Say… I think I got another weird idea.” “This seems to be an evening for strange ideas; their track record so far is promising.” Impmon took that as an invitation. Looking back and forth between the fox’s face and her shaft, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath to nerve himself before leaning in and planting his tongue firmly against the bulbous base. Renamon held back a shiver as the soft tongue bumped her knot, revealing it to be especially sensitive. “…That can’t be sanitary.” “Ith not, I think.” Impmon mumbled, dragging his taste buds up that rank cockskin with deliberate slowness. A drool of pre fell on his eyebrow in testament to his effort, making him close that eye protectively while he paused to wipe it off. “Still. Feel nice?” “Yes.” Renamon answered honestly after a moment’s thought. “Does it taste all right?” Impmon rolled the flavor around in his mouth, vague-edged meatiness with a slight twang. “Tastes weird. But I think I could get used to it…” With a cheeky smirk he brought his tongue back into play against her side so he could keep an eye on her face as he licked up it. “I-“ [i]could get used to this too.[/i] Renamon changed her mind midsentence. She wasn’t quite certain she wanted to get used to it, or more accurately she wasn’t sure she wanted to let [i]Impmon[/i] know that. Not just yet. He was being very pleasant this evening, but she didn’t think for an instant he’d keep it up well in public. The virus-type had built an image, and she had a hunch he’d stick to it in public. “Would think you would find it degrading.” Reaching her tip, concave and pointed in a way that recalled a garden trowel, he lapped sideways around it’s edge. “Speak for yourself, toots. I’m havin’ a blast.” “You are a very strange digimon.” It was becoming rather hard to concentrate with the tongue running over her penis- Impmon had gotten right back to work after his declaration, as if to prove it- but Renamon wasn’t going to touch the ‘speak for yourself’ just yet. Letting Impmon lick all over her personal parts was one thing. She wasn’t about to raise ideas about reciprocating without giving it a lot more thought. Impmon didn’t comment on his strangeness or lack thereof. He emphasized it by opening his wicked smile and wrapping his lips around the end of her cock. This power move turned out to have a double edge. A heretofore undiscovered reflex made the yellow fox’s hips buck, spearing a couple thick inches right into the back of the virus-type’s throat. Impmon gagged. The startled Renamon snatched at his horns, pulling him off in fear that she had hurt the smaller Digimon, who coughed up at her but was already recovering as she did. “Hkk. Wanted more, huh?” “I don’t know what came over me.” She admitted sheepishly. The fox found him smiling like a shark. “You liked my mouth, that’s what. What, didn’t think I could take it?” Renamon frowned at him, annoyed to find him so unperturbed in the face of her concern. She grabbed her knot between thumb and forefinger and batted the impertinent imp’s face with her penis by way of punishment, producing a satisfying wet ‘thwap’. “I thought you were hurt, you little nuisance.” Impmon barely flinched. Instead he grabbed hold of the thickest part of the shaft in his hand and flicked his tongue tip over the fleshy point in challenge. Renamon’s brows slanted dangerously. “Well? [i]Can[/i] you take it?” “Dunno. Wanna find out?” Maybe it was the way he asked. It brought back all the times she had wanted to punch him, washed out the dregs of her concern and made her feel like doing something reckless. She channeled that mood into action and grabbed him by the horns. “You were making better use of that mouth a moment ago.” She only got to hear the first syllable of his snarky comeback before her cock shoved its way into his jaw, but felt the rest as he gamely followed through on at least the motions if not the words they were meant to produce. Not to be intimidated he rolled right from that into gamely licking the shaft in his mouth while he bounced his eyebrows tauntingly up at her. Renamon had only just begun to consider riding the wave of annoyance and shoving even deeper into his face when he pre-empted her by grabbing her furry hips and doing the job himself. Alarmed by his press forward and caught off-guard she didn’t think to stop him by her grip on his horns until he’d pressed his lips all the way to the top of her throbbing base. Unheeding of her surprise he was already straining his jaw to try to force that inside as well. Once again he was gagging, this time wetly around the rod in his throat. Renamon was fighting the mixed impulses to push him off out of renewed concern and pull him onward out of hot urgency, and ended up extracting only an inch of fox-cock… which then felt lonely. “Can you even breath?!” Impmon glared at her, then struggled to press forward against her hold for a handful of stubborn moments before he yielded to a deeper need than stuffing his face with cock- sarcasm- and allowed himself to be pulled off his treat again. “Couldn’t stand to have me prove ya wrong, could you?” “I’m [i]not[/i] explaining to the others that you choked to death on my junk code.” Renamon sniped back. Impmon shrugged it off. “Don’t be so dramatic, foxface. I’m doin’ peachy.” He closed one eye and rubbed his chin in a satirical parody of deep thought, corners of his lips curled. “You gonna try to tell me you weren’t enjoying yerself?” Renamon could’ve slugged him, but the question caught on her train of thought and derailed it into a recollection of his mouth on her junk code, how it felt. She hadn’t particularly taken in the details the first time around, and now the fresh sense-memory was effectively registering on her for the first time. His throat swallowing at her tip, tongue levering at her knot in the attempt to pull it in. Delicious wet rasping on her up to now least-regarded body part made sent a shiver into her core. She shifted one foot fractionally, unconscious adjustment of her center of balance to offset the weight of her considerable erection which sent it to swing a few degrees over before settling in to jut at the new angle. Renamon only noticed thanks to Impmon’s open eye following its tip with interest. “…No, I won’t tell you that.” “Glad ta hear it, ‘cause I wouldn’t believe ya.” Off in the distance a cricket chirped, and was answered. Sometime during the course of their mutual exploration afternoon had turned into evening. In the suspended moment of comfortable tension, the dying daylight dappled through the leaves over them. “So….” Impmon broke the silence with as smoothly conspiratorial a tone as ever he could. “Seein’ as how I was enjoying that too, how about we try that again but without the you interruptin’ me? Third time’s the charm.” Renamon’s eyes narrowed as she weighed curiosity and newly discovered desire against the experimental nature of the moment, and reached a conclusion. Her penis hopped once to second it. “If you promise to be a little more careful, then yes.” “You worry too much.” Seeing Renamon open her mouth he hastened to add. “Fine, fine, I promise I won’t choke on your junk. Happy?” Renamon watched with mild suspicion and not-so-mild anticipation as she let the virus-type lean forward, warm breath washing over her tip an instant before the long attentive lick greeted the wonderfully smelly member. Impmon’s smile curled the corners of his mouth upward as he sealed them over his prize to suck on her as one would an ice pop. The sight of him slurping on her flesh had a peculiar appeal to it. Ultimately, if she stepped back several minutes, she could remember that he was doing this out of affection for her. Which now she was thinking about it and not caught up in their usual squabbling, seemed a strange way to show affection, if obscurely gratifying. But there was something else behind it, a sense that he had another motive which she had not identified. With a shock the sensed unknown equated itself with the warm current she felt in herself, the one that brought her junk code out at unexpected and inconvenient moments. The one that had, as much as a desire to compare with someone else for the first time, made her feel up his own cock. Did he get his own gratification out of this, then? Or only out of hers? The realization that it could be both combined with a tingle of Impmon’s tongue over a particularly responsive nerve ending and became a hot quiver that ran up her spine. Gloved hands lifted and gripped at her hips as Impmon steadied himself. His eyes were rolled up in his head to track her expression. Stoic as always, but as an avid Renamon-watcher he could make out enough response to exhilarate him. His lips inched down her length, and he tossed a wink upward. That wink further solidified her idea that she wasn’t the only one enjoying this. She didn’t ask, and in any case he couldn’t answer with his mouth full. Right now she wanted his mouth to [i]stay[/i] full. Renamon could try to decode it later. Renamon followed some deep instinct and rested her hand on the top of Impmon’s head. He made no motion to dissuade her. Focus was instead on rubbing his tongue side to side on the underside of her cock while he crept forward. Impmon was finding that the smell that enamored him shifted subtly with the application of his saliva. Still the same musty, masculine, sweaty smell but its tone… altered. He was no perfumer who might have the vocabulary to explicate it. But the funk was good, so good, and so was the meaty presence in his mouth. He wanted more of it in, and more movement than he could conveniently manage. He wanted that cock to fuck his mouth. The imp would eat sand rather than confess to something like a submissive impulse… but he did pull at the fox’s hips a few times to signal the idea. Renamon understood. “That seems unwise.” She noted sardonically. But. The tall vulpine digimon straightened her hips forward. This time she half expected the instinctive hump that overtook her and braced against it, but still wedged an inch more into the chatty imp’s oral cavity than expected, once again sliding all the way to the entrance of his throat. And it was glorious. She needed no further prompting to pull back and repeat the thrust, still carefully, but swiftly warming to the idea if it was going to feel like this. With the greasy red rocket averaging more depth than previous it was starting to scratch that itch in the back of Impmon’s psyche while it brushed his tonsils. The act of sucking her off excited him, and getting a facefuck had his own private code standing to attention to demand more. And more he was going to get. He breathed in more musty scent through his nose, glutting his lungs in preparation. Then, with careful timing, he bobbed forward violently on Renamon’s next hump. The motion sent Renamon’s tip slipping into his throat, deflecting down off his uvula. The angle rubbed the front of her red rocket hard over his bumpy back tastebuds to add a new layer of friction feel and draw just a little more twitch at the end of her hip movement, buying just that little more depth. She pivoted back rapidly. But a fraction’s worth of consideration found no gagging sound reaching her ears this time, and under the circumstances there was barely any hesitation before she allowed herself to spear forward again into the inviting maw. Impmon moaned as fox-cock shot down his throat again, thrilled that Renamon was finally taking the initiative to fuck his face. And now that those foxy hips were working on their own, he could spare a hand to grasp at his own achingly hard erection to give it a distracted squeeze. The taller Digimon didn’t particularly notice this development. She was finding her junk code a richer well of sensation than she had previously imagined, and Impmon’s mouth warm and wet and inviting in a way that wouldn’t have occurred to her in a million years. As the virus type continued to give no sign of distress she began to loosen up and focus more on the feeling than on her previous concerns of suffocating him. Wet sucking sounds diffused into the woods around them as the fox unknowingly humped into his face a little harder and deeper each time. A tiny fraction of spade tip slipping past his uvula steadily became an inch and counting of cockhead pressing into his throat proper. For a little while he was able to continue on breathing, sucking in a bit of air through his nose in the slim period of each backstroke when Renamon’s tip retreated all the way into his mouth, which had the happy side effect of topping his lungs off with her masculine vixen muxk each time. But before long she was thrusting deeper and retreating shallower and he began to rely on what fox-infused air he already had, something he was all too happy to do. In his fervor he absent-mindedly humped his gloved hand, dripping pre onto it to match what he could taste being backswabbed into his mouth. Contrary to her usual vigilance, Renamon was just as much in her own little world of warm tongue and slippery spit. Her tongue hung out of her slack jaw and swung in time with her fucking. Her panting caught in her unoccupied throat on the way out and joined the squelching from Impmon’s as soft pleasure-edged yelps. Unnoticed by her, the knob at the base of her most un-feminine equipment was swelling and now bumped against white lips rhythmically, while her furry balls swung their shadow across his chest again and again, shaft well and truly cutting off his air more often than not. Something was rising inside her, growing tightness in her core. In the intensity of the moment, though he felt himself on the verge of orgasm Impmon let go of his own dripping erection to focus more fully on the intensity of the one battering his maw. The sticky palm settled onto her other hip for a desperately needed second handhold, smearing pre into her fur, and with a great lust-driven effort he lunched forward against her next thrust and took. That. Knot. The event pierced Renamon’s through haze of arousal and into her awareness instantly, only to redouble the horniness into a sharp euphoric spike. What would have been another pull outward before the next blissful thrust was stymied when the back of her knot caught against the back of Impmon's teeth and triggered an instinct the socially distant digimon didn't know she had. She slammed back in to the root, pulling his head into her crotch with both hands sharply and starting a short jerky humping that ground her oh-so-sensitive vulpine knob over his delicious tongue. It swelled there pulsing and sensitive, expanding while the shaft swabbed his throat. A soft breathy yip drew itself out of her for a whole extended exhalation; something shifted in between her hips and pumped, her balls tensed, and Renamon climaxed for the first time. Impmon came at the same time in sympathy, caught up by her peak. His cock hopped in the air, spraying over Renamon’s feed and calves while thicker seed pumped down his throat. Perhaps unfortunately, post-nut clarity came early, even before he was finished shooting off his balls, to shove some unfortunate facts into his mind. One was that he was a bit low on air. Not alarmingly so, except for the other point that her knot was filling his jaw to capacity, hinging it open painfully/arousingly far, and was stuck. Renamon remained blissfully unaware of Impmon’s uncomfortable realizations. She had the ample excuse of being caught in her first orgasm ever, throbbing dick wrapped in the tightest wettest thing currently imaginable, and (given their size difference) shooting her nuts almost directly into Impmon’s stomach. The fox was at her least alert in years, just catching up on the pleasure roaring through her system. Let it be said that Impmon didn’t panic. Nor did he really want to ruin the moment for his crush. So he held on another moment longer, as long as he could, frankly still enjoying the primal lustiness of the impressive rod lodging in his esophagus. Still, it wasn’t long his lungs were really beginning to lobby hard for action, He pulled back, straining his neck… and only managed to pull hard against the back of Renamon’s knot with his teeth, milking another copious spray into his belly while her hands gripped the fucktoy that was his head fast. Jaw aching he tried to open wide enough to get free and had no luck. With his stomach full of fox cum and the usable air in his lungs officially running out, his face wedged against Renamon’s stomach, sheath, and balls, he opted for what to Impmon always had been and always would be his absolute last resort: Signaling for help. “Hhhhhhhhwm!” The yellow fox blinked at the raspy sound, one she felt- a sliver of air barely making the squeeze past and alongside her throbbing erection. It was joined a second later by an ineffectual tapping of gloved hands on her hips, calling her to attention. In the wake of her first cum, she pieced together her position from scratch: bushy tail swishing behind her, muscles a tiny bit shaky ([i]still those; remain in control[/i]), hunched over slightly in terrible posture, feeling absolutely lovely in a diffuse sort of way. Junk code still pulsing, so warm, knot felt good. Impmon was making noises and slapping at her legs and- Oh. There he was, wide eyed and struggling. She released his head and pulled back sharply. Her knot caught on his jaw, swelled to the maximum as it was. Renamon barely choked down a groan (of physical delight with a dash of discomfort) into more of a grunt- the base and underside of that bulbous swelling was really sensitive and liked being gripped- and grabbed impmon by the horns to help him pull. Impmon's teeth hooked against the back of her knot, which had swollen to the point that he couldn't conveniently open that far. Add to that the shaft blocking off his windpipe to break his focus, and Renamon's having to cope with just how many digital nerve endings she had only recently discovered her junk code housed. It was quite possibly the most awkward maneuver she had ever attempted, and that included trying to throw off belligerent digimon who had been actively trying their best to hold on. It was a tense minute but they eventually marshalled enough force to wrench Impmon's mouth off of the fox's swollen business end. His dentition scraped over the knot as it cleared them, shock of stimulation made her spurt a little harder at that moment, not that she'd entirely stopped, shooting a generous spray of musky-smelling fox cum over his chest as she tumbled back to rest against the tree. Impmon fell on his butt, gulping in precious air. With a renewed oxygen supply to draw on, the burning in his lungs receded, as did the impending headache he was only just now aware of. He rubbed at his temple with a palm to hurry it on its way out. And now he had time to take stock: Stomach delightfully full. Another sizeable glob of the hot fox spunk trailed down his body toward his dick, where his softening cock was twitching in sated excitement. Renamon, looking absolutely stunning in the rising moonlight, hands on her knees and still drizzling from that monster nozzle he had discovered between her legs. Looking at him critically. As if she knew any other way to look at anything. Good old Renamon. He smiled up at her, panting from the recent exertion. One hand raised shakily, startling Renamon as she realized he was giving her a thumbs up. “Ten outta ten, would suck again.” “You.” Renamon stared down at the imp, holding back her panting momentarily just so she could focus on projecting the pure incredulity the moment demanded. “[i]Enjoyed[/i] choking on my junk code?!” “Pret-ty sure you had fun too, foxy.” He leaned back on one arm, waved a finger in a smug little circle at Renamon’s groin. The shift brought an unexpected slosh of the contents of his belly, which he rubbed at thoughtfully. “I got a whole stomach fulla how much fun you had. Seriously, I haven’t had dinner yet and now I don’t think I need it no more.” “I didn’t know that would happen!” Renamon retorted automatically. Only a second later did it occur to her that maybe Impmon HAD known it would happen. He was the more knowledgeable of them about this ‘romance’ business. Well, she wasn’t about to ask, not with him grinning again. Especially now that she realized she was still pleasantly dribbling in the dirt. Actually, now she wasn’t otherwise occupied she felt something wet on her shins and glanced down, lifting the leg from which the feeling originated for a better look. From the angle she didn’t think that glob of… whatever, figure that out later, preferably from some source other than Impmon… was hers. She glanced at the stiffy still bobbing partly hard between Impmon’s own legs and put two and two together. “I suppose you did enjoy that. But I distinctly remember you promising to be careful.” “I was bein careful.” He declared triumphantly, hand on one knee as he hoisted himself up. Tut-tutting at Renamon and especially at her knot, even as his eyes lingered on it greedily. “I was just mindin my own business, all for your benefit, and you went and shoved me down on that thing.” Vulpine brows scrunched in irritation. Renamon was perfectly still for a stretched second. (Except for her reddened throbbing cock, which disgorged another glob of semen onto the ground, which pissed her off even more.) Then in a flash she snatched the imp who’d fellated her up by the arm and threw him over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. A sack of potatoes whose penis pressed against her shoulder fur, leaving a sticky spot. Annoyance chased the satisfaction of manhandling Impmon off to the sidelines, but not far away. He yelped indignantly, wriggling in her grasp as she turned and strode away from her favorite tree. “Hey, what’s the big idea?” “The river is that way.” She said simply. Her brow twitched in irritation once more; How had she not noticed the much larger wet spot from impmon’s chest before the tiny bit between his legs? His halfhearted struggling was grinding the cum there into her shoulder, her own emission soaking through the fur of her back where it was going to get incredibly matted in by the feel of it. Yes, water and scrubbing, as soon as possible. “And you got my legs dirty too. Be more careful for real, next time.” Impmon opened his mouth to say something particularly scathing. But his jaw worked on empty air, his eyes idly tracked the foliage retreating behind them. When his words came they were hushed and excited. “Next time?” Renamon didn’t reply, but Impmon felt her ear twitch against his side as she continued, stepping around a rock. He tried another tack. “So, you and me…?” Grumpy silence. But a movement drew Impmon’s eye. Renamon’s tail. Swishing side to side, not quite in time with her walk, more than accounted for by her walk. “We’re a thing now?” She was going to regret saying it. She knew she was. Impmon was Impmon, after all. He would [i]make[/i] her regret saying it. Probably on a regular basis. But. Buuuuuuut… It didn’t necessarily follow that she was going to regret [i]doing[/i] it. “Since you ask… Yes. We can try being a ‘thing’.” Impmon threw up his hands and let out a joyful whoop, practically right into the larger digimon’s ear. “I’m the happiest Digimon alive! Woo!” “Be quiet.” Renamon commanded her date sharply. She adjusted her hold on the happily squirming virus-type roughly enough to interrupt his merriment with a yelp of discomfort, but the giddy giggling filled in almost immediately. The fox chuffed a surly chuff. “…I liked your loud mouth better when it was full of my junk.” “Any time, fine and foxy!” Impmon’s jaws would have ached from the smile even had they no other reason. [center]The End[/center]