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Aahh Spring time, a time for new life to emerge, and a time for a weasel to make love to his doe, in this case its Pipkin. Winter is a long time to go without any release, these two needed a nice fucking!
Drawing is done by Me
Story was written by a Friend of Mine
Enjoy ^^
Rising Heat
The sun shone down brightly, almost blindingly so. Not a week previously the entire landscape had been one of ice and snow, harsh, cold light reflecting off of the soft forms of frozen powder. Now however it was a fresh green; newly emerged grass blades enjoying their first light in months, sheeplike clouds, soft and fluffy scudding across the sky on a fresh breeze. But the air was still cold; there was a chill on the wind, and in the shadows were pockets of ice and slush. The ground itself was wet underfoot, having not had time to dry thoroughly after the big melt. There was a battle in the world, twixt the warmth of the sun and the remaining winter chill, rising up from the depths of the Earth where it had settled in during the long, cold season.
Through all of this bounded a young rabbit whose name was Pipkin. It was his first bound in a long time, a good part of his rather short life in fact. The oppressive winter snowdrifts that could easily reach the top of his ears in places had made getting about all but impossible for the kit. While he was, in his own opinion at least, far from being some helpless newborn, there was no denying the fact that he was, compared to the other bucks in Watership Down, rather diminutive. Even his lapine name, Hlaoroo, reflected that. 'A small depression that water might collect in.' Honestly; whose idea had it been to name him after a puddle?
But he had grown, he knew he had. His once uniform mud-brown coat had developed lighter patches, especially around one eye, giving him, in his opinion of course, a rather roguish look. He was sure he was taller and stronger too. Of course the running joke was that he was only a hair bigger than Hazel's kits, but that was just typical of everyone, not paying him any attention. He'd show them! This year was the year! By autumn he'd be leading the owsla... the junior owlsla at least.
The warren in winter had been a torment; it was like being back at Efrafa again. There had been nothing to do, day after miserable day, but play bobstones or listen to stories for the hundredth time. He'd been stuck in crowded, damp, stuffy tunnels with a bunch of equally bored bucks (And far too few does.) who seemed to spend half their time thinking of things to tell him, especially things not to do. There hadn't been a moment to himself for weeks at a time, unless he felt like braving the piercing cold outside. (And of course 'going outside without someone else to help him find the way back' was another thing he wasn't allowed to do.)
Everyone else of course had done whatever they'd pleased. Hazel and Primrose went at it like, well like rabbits. Blackberry got a lot of attention and Hawkbit and Dandelion were hardly ever without each other's company. He'd caught them all a dozen times over in the cramped confines of the warren and each time there had been embarrassment and shushing followed by commands to forget whatever it was he'd just seen. It wasn't as if he had no idea what was going on after all, he'd learned a lot in his short life. But everyone treated him like a little kit. And Frith help him if he wanted a bit -just a bit!- of time alone, if he ever got even a moment of peace he could hardly do anything before someone would hop by and tell him to stop. Apparently relieving a little... pressure by yourself was yet another item on the endless list of Things Pipkin Was Forbidden To Do.
After months of dark, musty burrows it was a relief to be out in the fresh air with endless fields to run across. It felt like his fur was soaked with the scents of confined and eager bucks, the sharp, fresh spring air was a relief. It was as if a pressure had been building within him day after gloomy, cold day and now something had been released. He felt so alive, so full of energy that morning. He wanted to run to the horizon and leap into the clouds, to feel the wind of speed whistling past him, to jump and dig and kick and yell and all the things he'd been forbidden to do while the winter storms had raged. He wanted to do things he didn't have names for and couldn't imagine, things he didn't even know he wanted to do yet.
Above all he was ravenous. Winter had not just restricted his movement but his diet as well. No more carrots, the stores (even Hawkbit's special 'secret' one.) had been exhausted in a month. No lettuce or cabbage or sweet, sweet clover. Even the grass had been damp and rotted, scraped out from under inches of snow. He'd been reduced to nibbling on sticks,sticks! He was certainly a far leaner bun than the ball of tubby brown fluff that had seen autumn.
But now everything was sprouting and new and fresh and above all tasty. He just had to bend down to get a mouthful of tender new grass blades or the first clover of spring. (Which of course he had been told he couldn't have, lest he get gas.) The trees and bushes were budding forth, soft and delicate new growth, promising fallen flower petals in the weeks to follow, like flavored snow, soft and sweet on his tongue and scented with strange perfumes. Frequently his unbridled energy was tempered by sudden stops to taste some interesting bit of flayrah or other. By the time the sun had cleared the hills rimming the horizon he was moving much more slowly and heavily than the lithe and frisky rabbit who had burst forth from his burrow at sunrise.
Now Pipkin knew the reason behind something elil did that had long puzzled him. He knew how a fox could enter a henhouse and just madly attack everything in a flurry of feathers, how a terrier could clear a warren, how a stoat could just attack and tear and destroy. He felt that feeling himself now, he wanted to devour the world because it was made of flavor. No matter how his stomach protested there was always just one more bite to be had. It was a heady, intoxicating feeling that made his head spin. He idly wondered if that was how the big things, foxes, dogs, man, felt all the time.
It gradually dawned on him that his half-mad dash had taken him far from home. Not off the downs, no, but a considerable distance; the kind of trip he used to take without thinking in that long ago time of last summer, exploring the new territory, making interesting friends and having novel experiences. He would have to check up on everyone; it had been Frith's eve when he'd last seen most of his many non-rabbit friends. He would have so much news to catch up on. And so many new things to learn. For all he'd picked up (but never, never been taught!) by observing his bunny compatriots he'd learned tenfold from the various denizens of the downs. The birds spoke to him of nests and flying, the hedgehogs of burrow and hunting snails, the water rats of vicious battles for creek supremacy... and even a weasel who-
Of course, that was where he was now; this had been where the weasel, whose name he'd never been told, had lived. The burrow, or what it had become, was scant feet away, its entrance half collapsed and sprouting weeds. He investigated it with interest; the winter months had filed it with dampness and mud, though it had been in poor condition anyway. His friend (whom he'd nicknamed Vair out of sheer force of mischief.) had managed to escape the notice of Bigwig and his owsla for a surprising length of time, being 'chased off' twice before his burrow had been found. The captain had collapsed it, attacking the walls and ceiling with his powerful hind legs. Vair himself hadn't dug it, it had originally belonged to rabbits as far as anyone could tell, and so he couldn't repair it or make even the tiniest tunnel. So, with his home destroyed, he'd moved on in late fall.
Which had been a pity. The weasel was solitary, sneaky, cunning and vicious; all traits that the once innocent bun had learned from and planned to put to good use. While the warren's owsla had been busy telling him he couldn't train lest he injure a paw, his 'friend' had shown him how to beat the fluff off of things twice his size. (He'd had to explain that day's injuries as being from falling through a blackberry patch.) But as annoyingly self-contained as the elil had been Pip had absolutely no idea where he'd scurried off to or even whether he'd survived the winter.
As if on cue there was a sudden and quiet hiss behind him, like the gentlest breeze blowing through grass, almost inaudible but instantly recognizable to the young buck. Well that certainly answered that question. The young rabbit whirled around with practiced speed, turning so fast his ears flopped and his paws left curved scratches in the soft soil. Sure enough, almost hidden by a tall strand of dead grass, two dark brown eyes watched with a cool, predatory gaze.
Even the slightest glance was enough to reassure Pipkin that this wasn't any ordinary mustelid. His weasel was huge; the smallest would be outclassed by a decent-sized rat, the largest, so he'd been told, should have been no match for a rabbit in terms of size, easily pinned and disposed off once you go close enough. But Vair... he was closer to cat than rat; even captain Bigwig didn't quite measure up to him and he could have probably given Woundwort a decent run in terms of both sheer mass and aggression. He was an unusually light brown, not much darker than Pip's own coat and had a grin on him like a briar patch. It was no wonder at all why even Bigwig, the most grounded and professional of the owsla boasted of his victory over the predator. It took at least a handful of rabbits to even stand a chance against him. That, or Pipkin, of course.
He was simply sitting there, the small rabbit could see; pointed muzzle just sticking out from between the tall, dry blades of grass or maybe reeds that had survived the winter snow. He was watching the lapine with his usual, hungry expression, as if there was nothing at all preventing him from simply leaping forward and devouring the soft fluffy thing in front of him. Pipkin was entirely used to this and couldn't stop a broad smile from crossing his face as he bounded forward happily.
"Vair!"
"Longear."
"Pipkin, I'm sure we've discussed this."
"Took your time longear, I've been waiting..."
The weasel's voice was low and malevolent, its tone suggesting that the speaker was threatening life and limb. He also had a terribly cold and aloof demeanor; it was never 'Hello Pipkin!' or 'Nice to see you Pip!', there was barely ever a greeting at all. Instead the carnivore half-sauntered, half-slinked forward. In tune with his expression every movement the weasel made seemed sneaky or suspicious. He kept himself low to the ground, casting glances in all directions, almost flowing over the grass like a four-legged snake, and just as cold-blooded.
"Have you? How long?"
"Too long, too long..."
"I don't think you're living here though, do you have a burrow somewhere else? You'll have to show me if you want me to visit you know."
"Hnhnhnhnn! Yes, we should explore burrows sometime..."
The predator moved forward in short, sidelong darts; a strange pattern of movement that Pipkin had come to recognize. Bigwig called it a 'dance' and had warned his owlsa of it every time they went out to tackle stoats. It was hypnotic and distracting, something strange about the exact pattern that was hard to pin down. It was brisk, seemingly random and apparently insane and yet, incredibly effective. The only defense was not to look but Pip could never quite-
Without warning the weasel was upon him, the distance between them seemingly covered in the blink of an eye. Standing on his hind legs the predator towered over the smaller bun, putting a damper on his notions of having grown some over winter. A heavy pair of paws came down on his shoulders, pointed claws digging into his fur, sharp and prickling as Vair leaned against him; his not-insubstantial weight bearing down on him. Pipkin found himself pressed firmly against the hunter as the weasel's grip tightened, getting a face full of chestfur. A pointed snout nuzzled insistently at the top of his head, pressing between his ears and flattening the fur there, sniffing excitedly, inhaling his scent. The rabbit giggled, noise muffled by the coarse coat he was being held against. This was probably the closest he was going to get to a welcome hug.
Despite himself Pipkin was surprised, his friend was unusually insistent; he was used to somewhat... energetic performances from the mustelid, he'd been pounced and chased and nipped numerous times, often with great vigor. Rabbits did that too, not least for discipline (Though he had stumbled across Hawkbit being rather nippy not a week earlier, something he, and Dandelion, had tried to pass off as 'training'. Which couldn't possibly have been the case, else the two would have been owsla captains by now...) He simply stood still, raised his paws and hugged back. It was nice to get so much attention for once. They stood like that for some time, until the bun felt something rather warm pressing up against his stomach. He didn't have to look to know what it was. He pulled back a little, deliberately brushing a paw across it as he did so.
"I can feel that you know."
"Hnnnn yes you can! So bored longear! Snow and cold and dark! Nothing to chase, nothing to pin! No fun. No fun at allll..."
Pip grinned. He knew the feeling, oh how he knew the feeling. Apparently he wasn't the only one to have got a little stir-crazy being cooped up all winter. He was still being held tightly; he could feel his partner's eagerness, his constrained energy, almost shivering with excitement. And somehow that excited him too, memories of the previous year flashed through his head, of chases and fights and learning new things. He remembered running as fast as he could through tall grass only to be tackled, caught and pinned down... The very thoughts made him twitch. Once more his paw brushed past idly, making the weasel hiss sharply and tense up, the weight on the young buck's head increasing, slowly pushing him downward. He gripped the larger male tightly, both paws grasping tufts of fur as he once more buried his face in the sleek coat, breathing deep to take in his musk.
He let out a shuddering breath as the scent sent a tingle through his body. The familiar and enticing smellcoursing streaks of fire through him; making him feel hot and energized, aware of what was coming. The hunter growled and pressed back, pointed teeth gripping and nibbling the fur between the bun's ears. Letting out a contented groan, Pipkin savored each lick and nibble as his friend went to work. He could tell that no matter how much he wanted this, his partner wanted it twice as much; muzzle slowly working its was down. With a sudden nip, sharp teeth sunk into the back of the rabbit’s neck, grasping his scruff. He cried out, a sharp, surprised yelp, and reached a paw up to the back of his attacker's head as if to hold the nuzzling muzzle there. Vair growled almost playfully as he sunk his sharp teeth more firmly into him, tugging slightly. Unwilling to be dominated so easily Pip foguht back, his own claws extending and scraping lightly against the weasel's skin, only encouraging him further.
When the mustelid finally tasted the faint hint of copper on his tongue, he pulled back and licked the bite tenderly. Pipkin could feel his partner shivering slightly with excitement and arousal, something he was sure he too was doing as the intensity of the experience spurred him on, feeding his own eagerness. Easing up slightly, Vair moved himself back and took one of the bun's long, little ears between his teeth and growled softly; chuckling as he heard him give a small gasp, his own arousal pressing hotly against his partner's soft fur as it begged for release, even the slightest motion sending shocks of pleasure through it. His nibbling teeth made their way up to the very tip of the rabbit’s ear and found a sensitive spot that had been discovered long before when the pair had engaged in something similarly primal and instinctive and rewarded the small bun with another stimulating nip.
Trembling and panting Pipkin stepped back, breaking the embrace momentarily and giving the weasel a playful shove, swiping harmlessly at a brown flank. The mischievously grinning weasel darted forward again and the rabbit gasped as he was suddenly embraced in what was nearly a proper hug, the larger male leaning over him. What surprised him more, however, was the very blatant jabbing at the small of his back. The small rabbit smiled, speaking with a mixture of teasing and slight concern.
"You feel awfully stiff today, not getting enough exercise?"
Grinning the small rabbit reached down and grasped the twitching member, wrapping his paw around the erect shaft, easily curling around the sleek cock and giving it a firm squeeze. It was rock hard, he could feel the larger male's pulse, every heartbeat making it spasm in his grasp. His friend was only this hard when he was in desperate need, and Pip had seldom had the chance to come across him in such a state. Vair groaned loudly, a deep guttural sound ending in a long, wanting hiss at the bun's squeezing touch. The urge to simply pounce on the lapine and take him was almost unbearable. Leaning in a pointed muzzle brushed ticklingly across a cheek and over an ear, whispering assent as the mustelid moved over the rabbit's smaller form, forepaws grasping the soft fur on Pipkin's back, curling a larger, longer body over him.
Tucked now beneath the weasel the bunny smiled to himself as he felt the clawed paws above him, stroking through his fur, scratching ever so lightly across the curve of his back. His head was snug up against a heaving chest, ears pressed back, muffling the sounds of spring and replacing them with deep, passionate breathing, rising with his own as the heat and musk from the bigger male soaked through his coat. He almost squeaked, a quiet, happy noise that he'd not be caught letting anyone else hear him make, his own forepaws reaching out, sinking into the light tan fur of an exposed stomach, brushing softly through it in imitation of what his partner was doing, slowly moving downwards but carefully, so carefully inching towards a certain area. Finally, as the weasel pulled him closer, his paws tracing over the curl of his hindquarters and moving towards his tail, Pip reached a paw out and once more took a gentle grip on the long, sleek shaft in front of him. He felt it twitch at the slightest of touches and couldn't help but lick his lips; the young buck leaned in and tenderly nipped at the soft fur that encompassed him. In return his partner growled and gave a series of gentle bites across his hindquarters, purring quietly in pleasure and need.
"Hnnnn.... hungry longear?"
Giving a snort, Pipkin looked up and rolled his eyes at the subtle hint, resisting the urge to giggle again as his own arousal grew, his smaller cock already completely erect, bobbing between his legs as he slowly scooted forward, positioning himself better beneath the predator, so close to his throbbing member that his whiskers brushed it, making his partner gasp and tense, hips twitching with anticipation. Sitting snugly under his weasel, Pip took a deep breath, inhaling the warm, intoxicating scent, more than musk now, tinged with something else, the need to breed. He focused on the thick cock hanging in front of him; already a bead of pre was forming at its tip, sitting there enticingly, encouraging him to taste it. Leaning in just a little bit more the rabbit pressed his lips against the drooling tip of the mustelid shaft and slowly began to ease it inside. Above him Vair let out an intense groan.
Of course it had been a few months since they had been intimate like this, and the two of them had already been prone to an intense amount of teasing whenever they met. Both of them had taken a great amount of pleasure in 'playing' with the other, Pipkin rapidly become very very good at repaying the hunter for every trick and treat he'd used against the smaller buck, taking his time and savoring the passionate responses to the slightest provocations. However, an entire winter of no play and numbing cold had left them both pent up beyond anything either had realized was possible; now was no time for dallying. Working the shaft with his tongue, the bun easily took half the sleek dick into his mouth, slicking it with his tongue. The weasel’s shaft began leaking pre continually, the salty liquid mixing with Pip's own saliva, whetting his appetite for more as his friend began panting heavily just like he did when they'd been going hard for a while. Already the larger male's strong hips were jerking forward, muzzle-humping the rabbit, slipping more and more of the begging, throbbing length into a warm, welcoming throat.
It wasn't long before almost the entirety of the dick was buried in him as Pipkin struggled to keep up with the weasels quick, needy movements; almost the entire cock being withdrawn, only to be hammered back into his milking mouth at a breakneck pace. There had been no buildup, no warning; as soon as he'd started to suck on the tasty member his partner had gone all-out, gripping him tightly and bucking in hard. To Pipkin’s surprise mere seconds later his head was suddenly forced farther down the long shaft than he had been prepared for as thick gushes of cum poured into his mouth. The mustelid gripped his hindquarters firmly, claws digging into his flanks, curling the larger form entirely around the surprised bun; forcing his head to dive snugly into the weasel's crotch, burying it in soft fur. Pip's head was locked into position; a substantial pair of testicles gently pressing under his chin in a series of short, rapid thrusts. He could feel them lifting as spasm wracked his friend's body, each pumping yet more seed into him. The long, sleek cock was buried so deep in his throat that he could feel the warm bursts pumping straight into his stomach, a part of him being rather annoyed that he wasn't getting to taste any.
As quickly as it had started the climax ceased as rapid thrusts turned to shivering and panting. The weasel was nearly collapsed on top of him, his entire hot bodyweight pressing down on the smaller bun. Taking advantage of this Pipkin pulled back, slowly slipping off of the hot length, dragging his tongue along it and coaxing out a few last spurts of hot seed. Even the final spasms were remarkably voluminous, filling his mouth with the tasty fluid. His stomach growled as his earlier hunger returned, reminding him of something else he'd not tasted in a long while. Holding off from swallowing for the moment he pilled back, carefully wriggling out from beneath the hot, heavy male, who lay panting in the morning sun, flat on the ground as if exhausted. The rabbit held the flavorful, potent fluid, enjoying its exotic taste at length. Making sure he had his friend's attention as the hunter began to focus on him again, he sucked in air through his nose, holding the load of cum in his cheeks. Looking carefully to make sure his weasel was watching, the bun smiled before loudly and conspicuously swallowing all of the seed in one large gulp. Once he was done he opened his mouth and let his tongue hang out to show that it was all gone, slick with a thin layer of the weasel's spunk.
In response the predator growled and shivered, Pipkin could tell he'd come again, a last, held-back effort after the massive unloading he'd just endured. He smacked his lips a few times, tongue carefully cleaning the last drops of jizz from them as the weasel crawled forward, recovering quickly, nuzzling under his chin and giving a soft nibble to his neck, inadvertently smearing in an errant drop of cum into his fur. The smaller buck could see his friend was still hard and throbbing, libido amazingly not decreased in the slightest. This was new to the inexperienced rabbit; he'd been pretty sure up until then that once was all it took. Certainly the experience could be prolonged and intense, but after such a climax, surely anyone would have to wait, at least a little while? The weasel's readiness stirred something in his own loins and he remembered that he was still incredibly pent-up himself, rock-hard cock still twitching needily between his legs at the slightest touch of the cool spring breeze. Pipkin knew exactly what he wanted to do.
He began dragging himself forwards with his front paws, claws digging into the grass while his hindquarters dragged behind. This tilted him forward, his forelegs stretching out in front of him; his chin rubbing against the cool ground, while his rear was stuck up in the air, wiggling with each step, his tail raised to the sky, its white underside acting as a marker for a very exposed target. He flagged it high and flicked it alluringly, flashing it in the morning light as he feigned interest in the green flay in front of him.
"Goodness! What an interesting bit of grass, I think I'll take a nice long look at it up close, leaving myself all exposed to a rear attack. I sure do hope no vicious elil take advantage of my moment of vulnerability..."
As expected it didn't take long for his straining ears to pick up the sounds of soft pawsteps behind him, pattering closer. The sun was behind him and he could see the weasel's shadow looming, moving over him and blocking the light, making him shiver for reasons different to the cool air. A heavy paw came down on his flank, claws extended, raking slowly through his fur, leaving lines of electric sensitivity in its wake.
"Foolish longear, foolish. You cannot escape now, I will ride you until you squeal."
Pipkin smirked, unseen, shifting his posture slightly, bracing himself against the ground and raising his tail just a bit higher, making obvious exactly what he thought of that proposition. A second paw joined the first, grasping his other flank firmly, claws applying more pressure now as the weasel padded forward slowly; paws making their way down his back step by step, tugging at his fur, pulling him back against the encroaching predator. The larger, longer male once again curled his body over the arched back of the prone rabbit, tucking him beneath. Finally the gripping paws slipped over Pipkin's shoulders, hooking over them and holding tightly, pulling the weasel's crotch tight up against his exposed backside. The lapine could feel the long, throbbing shaft, still slicked with spit and seed from its release not long before. It pressed up under the cotton tail, rubbing against a tight pucker, lubing it with pre as it slipped past again and again, pressing inward each time, just grazing the sensitive opening.
This time it was the weasel's turn to tease and pace himself. The pointed tip of the sleek member jabbed repeatedly against the tensing ring, occasionally sinking in slightly only to be rapidly withdrawn, driving Pipkin wild with anticipation, his own hot need rising as he began to push backwards. Then, just as suddenly as before, the hunter penetrated him, half the length burying itself inside him savagely, slipping in without any resistance whatsoever. Now the elil began steady thrusting motions, bucking forward and quickly withdrawing, removing almost the entire length from the longing bun before slamming it back in a little further each time. The weasel grunted with the effort of holding back as he sunk in on every pass; Pip's body twitching, clenching and spasming with both surprise and lust, squeezing the slick member, inner walls caressing it tightly.
Admittedly he was surprised at how easy the seemingly endless length was sinking into him, inch after inch sliding smoothly into his tight passage despite his clenching and squeezing of it. It was being driven in now with short, sharp thrusts, a firm grip on his hips as his partner pulled him back onto the invading length as he shut his eyes, sighing in pleasure as his body adjusted to being penetrated so deeply. The pointed tip probed ever deeper inside him and, a few minutes later, Pip felt the familiar and longer-for sensation of a large pair of nuts slapping against him, gently bumping his own as he fit neatly between the weasel's legs. Breathing heavily the young rabbit gasped, melting into the bliss of being stuffed full, the hot length reaching places he'd forgotten he even had. He gave a content sigh, his ass steadily adjusting to the rapid pounding he was being given as the mustelid atop him griped him firmly again, pointy muzzle once more nibbling at his neck, hot eager panting echoing in his ears.
He could feel Vair sliding his cock back and forth in short thrusts, somehow resisting the urge to just have at the tight bun. It was exactly what they both needed. Trying to catch his breath the small buck tried to encourage the larger male to pick up the pace; to breed him harder and speed his much-awaited release, but he only managed a disjointed squeak, his words catching in his throat. Somehow figuring his intent the weasel growled happily, pausing for a moment as the large shaft was suddenly yanked back to the very tip, sitting just inside the yearning rabbit before being forcefully shoved back in, the entire length slamming forward with enough strength to scoot him forward on the ground. The violated rabbit squealed out in pain and pleasure, his body wrapping tighter around the invading shaft; his toes curling and leaving furrows in the ground as the voracious hunter took up a steady pace, pounding into the freshly deflowered rear.
Months of pent up lust, urges that both had to fight back with tooth and claw and gritted teeth came spilling out in one passionate crescendo. The predator snarled as he gripped the soft hips in front of him roughly, claws digging in and making the bun yelp as he panted, slamming his crotch against his partner. Each motion shoved the duo forward, inch by inch, unheeding as the two lost themselves in each other. Pipkin in turn moaned and panted as the sensations his body had been starved of flooded his mind. It was contact, togetherness, and pure lust-fueled bliss as instincts took over. He could feel his ass embrace the pistoning shaft, milking the rigid member as best he could, increasingly lubricated with spurts of hot pre, prepping both males for he release that was quickly approaching.
Suddenly, Pipkin felt the very base of the invading shaft being pressed with immense force against his ring, as if somehow trying to get even further inside him and somehow managing it. He bit down on a tuft of grass as the breeding male pulled back and did it again. The force and pressure made him feel like he was going to split in half with each pounding buck. His friend clambered further up onto him and slammed his hips down, forcing the undersized rabbit to bear all of his weight; using gravity to drive him deeper, their bodies colliding now with loud, wet slaps. He groaned as with a final shove, Vair sank deeply into to him all the way to the base; screeching loudly, a sharp, feral noise as he reached climax once more.
Pip cried out as the first hot ropes of seed burst inside him, coating his insides, almost falling forward as his quivering body welcomed the long-awaited release. His hoarse gasps filled the air as he felt the the length buried inside him flex and twitch; each movement an intense stimulation and dumping yet more cum deep in his eager passage. His lungs gasped for breath, burning as his chest heaved, his shouts becoming incoherent as he realized that he'd started to cum himself without realizing it; carried away in the intensity of the experience. The sheer burning bliss of the hot fluid pumping into him merged with that of his own spurts as he painted the ground beneath himself with streaks of white. As their mutual orgasm continued the two males found the perfect rhythm, their bodies tensing and pumping in unison, bucking and thrusting together allowing each other to cum that much harder each time, dragging out the incredible feeling.
Eventually the all-consuming sensation overwhelmed them both. Pipkin fell first, losing his balance as his legs gave out beneath him in trembling exhaustion. He lay flat against the ground, feeling his own hot fluid pooling beneath him, soaking into his fur. Vair fell heavily atop him soon after, his body shuddering and jerking, still pumping burst after burst of cum into the hapless bunny, even as he panted raggedly, unable to catch his breath. It was as if their bodies were so consumed and focused on release that they were doing so by themselves, leaving the two males as mere observers of the extended climax.
Slowly, excruciatingly so, the tremors and spasms decreased. Even then the pair could barely move. Even the slightest motion sent waves of overstimulation flowing over them both, causing their cocks to once more tremble and twitch though they had no more to give. They settled for lying as still as possible, trying to catch their breath as their bodies tingled and twinged with the warm glow of a much needed climax. Their coats were slick with sweat and musk and the smell of their hard fucking. Even in the cool air they felt burning hot, the heat of their warm embrace clinging to them like a blanket.
Eventually, after the sun had risen higher in the sky the weasel pulled himself off of the smaller male, stumbling awkwardly forward, trying to regain his composure. Pipkin himself hopped awkwardly forward, his insides ached and burned with every step as he slowly maneuvered himself to a small patch of unmelted snow, nesting in the shadow of a nearby tree, flopping down on it and enjoying the cool wet kiss of it against his chest. After it had melted into the grass he flopped over onto his side. He felt a strange pressure and fullness within him; maybe it had been from everything he'd snacked on that morning or maybe it was because, as he could see, hardly a drop of the weasel's spunk had leaked from him even in his limp and exhausted state. He was strangely proud of the fact.
A quiet noise alerted him to the presence of his friend nearby, recovering a little faster, as he tended to do. The mustelid, and he himself he noticed, was still partly erect, pink tip poking from his sheath. He too felt strangely horny despite being incredibly satisfied. It was as if his libido was promising more than his body could deliver, at least at the moment. But maybe in a few hours...
He turned to the slinking form next to him and smiled.
"S-so then, that was fun. I think you said something about a new burrow? I'd like to see it, if you'll show me. We could make a day of it."