Im very happy to finally get this one done, this is the next part of the Buttercup and Fox series Me and a Friend are doing.
After just recently having kits, Buttercup finds herself quite busy lately with responsibilities, but after a while Her sexual urge starts to build. Feeling very needy she seeks out Her Fox mate and is determined to get some release, even if it means disturbing his nap, although by the looks of it, that Fox is absolutely fine with Her disturbing his nap.
Drawing is done by Me, and the Story is written by \r\n\t\t\t\t\t
| \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t | \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tzfqfmb\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t | \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
Enjoy ^^
Face to Face
It was above all quiet in the den, several hours after the sun had gone down. Buttercup, newly a mother carefully looked over the nest she had created, precisely following the instructions that had been handed down to her by her old warren's midwife. It was slightly unusual; crafted from a thing of Man, a broad, flat square of woven fur. She had no idea what it was used for, but it had been found and found comfortable and dragged back to the den where it now lay bundled up in a tight ball, wrapped around the small forms at its center, holding their heat and keeping them swaddled.
There were only three, a number on the small side for a rabbit litter, but each was a good size for a kit, even after only a few days. Certainly whelping them had been an effort and preparing the den for their imminent arrival had been an adventure in itself. For the moment they mostly slept, feeding every few hours. They looked remarkably rounded, even when not curled up as they currently were. Their ears were small, their noses snubs, even their cotton tails appeared a little wan. Still, as tiny and fragile as they seemed to her, they were safe, secure and sleeping. And the rabbit doe had other matters to attend to that night. Carefully pulling a flap of material over the makeshift nest, leaving her kits entirely enclosed, she set off for an adjoining chamber, confident that her children were in the safest spot they could be in all the world.
The nest chamber had originally been sleeping quarters and was the soul and center of the den's paltry collection of tunnels. But as spartan as they were, there were other chambers and holes. Not more than a few long lopes away lay the second sleeping chamber; unlike the kits' one it was undercoated with nothing in it to make it warm or comfortable or secure. It was just bare rock and dirt, as were most rabbit burrows. Unlike most rabbit burrows this one had a rather large occupant taking up most of the floorspace. He was more than twice Buttercup's size and rusty brown except for a pale white underside that lay exposed as he slept soundly on his back, chest rising and falling slowly in the depths of slumber.
As the doe entered a familiar scent struck her; that of fox. It was, of course, present in the entirety of the den, a constant background, mingled with her own, a clue as to the identity of the pair that inhabited the tunnels. But in this chamber with a large, living, breathing vulpine male in it the scent was unmistakably potent, seeming to radiate off of the canine form with his body heat. He had been sleeping there alone for more than a week as her pregnancy had entered its final stages and as the kits had been settled in. That had been long enough by far to taint it with the various undertones of his mood and status; especially one in particular which stood out to the lapine like a beam of moonlight through a cloudy sky. It was... an extra warmth and humidity to the air a sharp scent that burned in her mind. She hopped quietly closer and saw exactly what she knew would be there.
The fox was lying completely spread-eagled, fore and hind legs akimbo, splayed wide towards the tunnel walls. His head was tilted back far enough for the top of his nose to press against the floor and his tail lay flat out straight behind him. But the focus of the doe's rising attention was the rigid length angling upward between the hunter's legs. It tilted gently as the pale white chest rose and fell, undulating gently with each inhalation as the fox slept and, perhaps, dreamed. It seemed, to the bunny, to radiate its own, exceptional heat. As she approached more closely she imagined she could feel its warmth on her fur. There was a subtle insistence in the air, undercurrents of pheromones and instincts and old, familiar habits that had been too long neglected. There was a definite sensation of need in the cramped quarters and it was no wonder her mate was in such a state. Her recent motherhood and all it had involved had left her largely unavailable for a third of a season, only growing worse as things moved to their conclusion. As much as they had managed to make do, it hadn't been the same by far as it had been in seasons prior.
Strangely though, now that she was on the other side of things she herself felt similar. Carrying kits had sapped her energy and desires, but they seemed to have flooded back in the scant few days since their birth. Perhaps it was the raging hormones or the impressive changes she'd undergone; since she was now feeding her kits on a regular schedule her teats had grown ever more prominent, nipples large, pink and easily visible through her coat, making her gasp occasionally as one or another brushed lightly against the floor beneath as she moved. Or perhaps it was simply a buried need that had finally made itself known, she couldn't be sure. But her body tingled with desire, energy squirrelcaging around her limbs and making her breaths, short, sharp and shallow even as she stood there.
She wasted no time, knowing exactly what she intended to do and how. It was a simple matter of mounting her mate; carefully climbing up the soft, yielding side of his stomach, digging her paws into the long, lush fur and gripping tightly, giving her purchase as she slowly scrambled atop him and lay still a moment on his slightly heaving chest. There was a quiet grunt and a kick, a paw swiping at nothing as the larger male responded, in his dreams. What he imagined was happening was anyone's guess, but the doe knew in which direction she wished to steer things.
Delicately clambering to her feet she aligned herself with the vulpine, centering herself in the soft white expanse of chestfur before slowly stepping back. Paw after paw padded softly down as she carefully and deliberately moved, raising her hindquarters in preparation until she felt the first soft brush of a pointed tip against her waiting, expectant fur. Without so much as once looking back she shifted position, moving her rear slightly until the hot peak pressed just beneath her tail, meeting a pair of eager, wet lips that kissed softly against it, smearing a thin streak of lubrication across the tip of the gently throbbing cock. Easing back further she felt the pressure slowly increase before, with a gentle *pop* that was not so much heard as felt, the first hard inches slipped into her eager body.
Her recent exertions had had one interesting side effect; there was absolutely no resistance as she slipped back onto the thick rod, inch after throbbing inch easily sliding into her yearning passage. Though she was still a little stiff, she was also massively more sensitive now, taking her time as she adjusted herself; allowing more and more of the foxcock into her, taking it with remarkable ease, relishing the feeling of it filling her, spreading her, penetrating her. Bit by bit her greedy cunt swallowed the impressive length which tweaked and bulged inside her, seeming to grow even harder and longer as her inner warmth embraced it. As she approached the base of the rigid shaft she leisurely adopted a sitting pose, pushing her rear down onto it and using her own weight to help force the last few stubborn inches inside. Finally the moist lips of her vulva were kissing firmly atop the bulbous knot of her partner, leaking hot fluids onto it, moisture slicking across it to soak into pale crotchfur.
Even this could be handled with ease now, she knew. With a forceful and protracted push she pressed solidly against her mate, feeling herself spread wider and wider by the massive bulge, sensitive folds parting, spreading and enveloping the massive girth; odd uncomfortable twinges flashing through her mind as she reached the widest point, a rising sensation of pressure... Then a sudden slip and release as she sank quickly down the last inch, the entire cock, knot and all sliding effortlessly into her as her body swallowed the intrusion, wrapping around it and caressing it internally on all sides. Temporarily overcome with the scintillating friction she fell forward, her forelegs giving out beneath her and making her gasp as the firmly buried knot tugged back against her, preventing her slipping off even slightly. She lay there, panting with pleasure, release even, yet still burning with passionate, wholehearted desire.
As she lay, sprawled on the soft warm fur she became aware that her partner had changed position; his chest was no longer flat, but slightly curved. Sometime during her efforts, she couldn't be sure when, he had awoken and curled himself up slightly, to better observe her. In an unrushed movement she lifted her heavy head upwards, squinting in the low light and focusing on a pointed muzzle mere inches away, watching her in total silence, slightly open, rows of pointed teeth on display, tongue panting hotly, sending waves of warm breath across the lapin's fur, two eyes gleaming like gems in the dark. There was a low, deep growl, rumbling through both of their forms.
The rabbit had seen that look before, recently. Moreso as the long days had passed; it spoke of hunger and a desire to consume, but in more than in just the mere physical sense. There was a greedy longing there, an anxious impatience that was only just barely being held back and now, now was seeping through the cracks, the first hints of what would soon be a torrent of fervent, feral lust. It was a look of lost control, of unknowns and danger. Any sensible bun would have been terrified by it, and by the guttural sounds that filled the small tunnel. But Buttercup embraced it, her own throat emitting an eager sound, far longer, louder and deeper than any rabbit had a right to make. She felt herself grin as she gripped tufts of fox-fur in both paws and pulled herself up the male's body, yanking gently at them with her forepaws and using the leverage to jerk more insistently on the crushingly tight tie embedded in her rear. With each firm pull she felt her mate instinctively buck forward, his body slowly curling around and letting her nuzzle in under her partner's chin, nibbling teasingly at the fur there.
As she did she felt another shift in posture as the canine moved, wrapping both fore and hindpaws around her; crossing his legs across his own stomach to hold her close, two heavy paws coming down over her shoulders and across her back. In reply she arched her back and flexed her hips, testing her mate's grip; pushing up against him only to feel him pull her back down into his grasp. The movements repeated, over and over; they rapidly became frenzied, disorganized; two pairs of hips pressing against and apart from each other in irregular rhythm, the tunnel filling with harsh, gasped breaths, long growls and sharp yelps as instinct and pleasure fought the strange posture of the position. Mating face-to-face was unusual, almost unnatural and it gave her partner little purchase on her body; making it difficult for the two to maintain any decent pace.
But it had one advantage that could be had no other way; one advantage that had demanded the rabbit take after so long without a proper fucking. And that was how you could see your partner's expressions and reactions; and they yours. The two breeders locked gazes, watching each other pant with exertion, coats slick with sweat. The rest of their bodies dissolved away into a susurration of pleasure, welcome but not necessary as they made each other the focus of their own private world. A long, pointed muzzle brushed against the rabbit, caressing across her face, burying itself in her fur, sniffing deeply; inhaling her scent with vigor, as if devouring it. Her fur was bristled and mussed as it roved across her, teeth bared, occasionally nipping at tufts of her coat or the nape of her neck, eager, lustful growls buzzing electrically over her skin. She responded in kind, rubbing and pressing close, scenting the powerful masculine musk rubbing into her, soaking her coat and marking her as she pulled close.
A long, wet, rough tongue slipped free of the hungry maw, and curled underneath her chin, wetting the fur there and slipping past an a sinuous, sleek movement. Again and again it stroked across her coat, lapping over her neck or across the top of her head. Powerful jaws opened wide, closing gently, but firmly on her neck, holding then releasing. Another snap grasped the base of her left ear before pulling back, letting it slip past pointed teeth, only for the very tip to be nipped with a tweak that made her cry out. Pressing in further it sought out her underside, brushing and stroking and nuzzling the ever-so-sensitive spots there, licking and lapping against every sensitive, lactating point. Her fox lavished attention on her as if trying to consume her, engulf her and make her a part of him. And she responded in kind, nuzzling and nipping, panting with him, their tongues occasionally meeting as they tasted and explored each other anew, forgotten memories and sensations rising to the surface. Their movements became more hurried and uncontrolled as their passion grew, until both were moaning and crying out loudly, jaws slack, mouths agape, breaths haggard and panting as a rising, melting heat seemed to fuse them. They were both bucking wildly by that point, bodies uncoordinated and flailing about, claws extended and scratching against the walls and floor on occasion as they wrapped around each other, lost in the sheer blinding bliss of rediscovering themselves after such a long absence.
In the midst of the overwhelming sensations there was a crest, a peak. Buttercup pushed back, holding herself up off of the fluffy chest, if only for a moment, looking down at the panting male below her, his tongue lolling out lazily from panting jaws, draped crazily across his muzzle, his eyes half focused, glazed. In that moment there was clarity, the two of them aware of the absolute bliss they could see on their partner as they moved together one final time. Two muzzles met, nose-to-nose, tip-to-tip and nuzzled; the pair emitting soft sounds, almost whimpering together as climax hit, wave after wave of ecstasy flooding over them, washing away all thought.
The sensation was incredible; Buttercup's body went completely rigid, clenching around the thick maleness inside her; toes curling as she gasped, not a single sound escaping her lips as even her voice fled the oncoming storm of unbridled and unleashed passion. There was a deep sense of fulfillment and rising pressure, then a burning, cascading heat burst forth inside her as the first blast of hot fox seed was forced deep inside her welcoming tunnel, filling her up rapidly in a single, powerful surge. This was followed by another, and another, the gushing charges merging together into a single white hot torrent, pouring into her, sunk in deeply by the solid, ramming member that plunged as deep into her as was possible; seeking out her center, her welcoming heat. The sheer volume of the countless ropes of fox jizz emptying into her quickly overcame her ability to hold; knotted though she was and despite her tight tunnel grasping and clenching and hugging the throbbing cock buried in it, sticky spurts of cum burst from her overstretched and well used pussy, splattering across slick fur and puddling between the two unheeding mates as their furious, impassioned fucking reached its highest point, the panting, shivering bun being thoroughly bred; every point in her body a burning spark of desire as, with one final full-body shudder of overwhelming bliss, she collapsed into the velvety depths of unconsciousness, completely subsumed in the heat and power of the moment.
* * *
It was some time later that Buttercup awoke.
For a moment she allowed herself to lie in the darkness behind her eyelids, slowly rising up from the depths of sleep like an iceberg peeking out of the ocean. She felt herself slowly rising and falling, a gentle, rocking cycle every few seconds. Each time there was a quiet 'huff' not too far away. Her mate was fast asleep on his back; breathing slow, low and deep, his chest moving at a glacial pace with each exhalation, carrying her with it.
She lay on her stomach, on his stomach, nestled in the soft, fluffy fur there; eyes barely open, peeking at the light white coat, like warm snow as she nuzzled against it. She could feel a slight dampness and humidity, not yet dry for what had soaked their coats through and through mere hours before. There was also a suspiciously large patch of sticky wetness between them, that would probably need cleaning up in the morning.. She smiled, stretching slightly, feeling her tired body complain slightly, a stiffness in her limbs and back. So that had been it, the first time proper after so long. It had certainly been an experience, no doubt, especially being on top. Stretch over she felt a slight tug and pressure from behind, where they were still tightly linked, quite possibly until next morning, or later if she tossed and turned in her sleep.
Slowly she let herself fall into the welcoming embrace of exhaustion once more, listening to her partner's breathing mixing with her own, their paces slowly aligning as she shut her eyes and relaxed, feeling herself being gently rocked back into dreaming.