I’m not exactly sure when the thought occurred to me. The desire I can pinpoint to an exact moment; July 4th at about 2:47pm, but the thought…..not so much. I still remember the moment with perfect clarity. I was at the house across the street, attending one of our neighborhoods many 4th of July barbeques. All around me people were talking, laughing, drinking and eating. I myself was having a wonderful conversation with Mrs. Gilly from three doors down about how things were going at work. I remember laughing and saying I needed to get another soda. I remember walking away from the conversation and going to where they had the sodas all chilling in a large cooler. I had just bend town, opening the lid to see if I could find another Lemon Blast when I felt someone come up behind me. 
A second later I yelped, the feeling of cold water dripping onto my back making me jolt and spin around. I can still recall the sheepish smile that covered Jason’s face. The slight glint of mischief in his eyes, the way his head was cocked to the side a little, the way he laughed nervously as he told me he’d been dared to do it by the younger kids. But that’s not what I remember most about him though. I remember how he looked. We’d known each other since his family had moved into the neighborhood. To be honest, the family had looked a little out of place. Most of the families in our neighborhood were predators, wolfs and cougars and even a family of bears that lived at the end of the block. Sure there was old Mrs. Smith; a sweet elderly mouse that had been here years before any of us had come along, but she was the exception. So to suddenly see the house down the way be sold to a family of deer had been slightly surprising. The first time I’d met Jason he’d been a kind, maybe eight or nine years old. I remember thinking he looked small and kinda scrawny; his antlers barely even bumps on the top of his head. 
But that wasn't the case now. No the Jason that stood before me now…..it makes my toes curl in want just thinking about him. Broad strong shoulders, stomach and abs as flat as any model in any magazine, short wet hair clinging to his face making him look like he’d stepped straight out of some kind of bored housewife fantasy. Even his once pathetic antlers had become more impressive, now with a single large main ‘branch’ with a few ground down but still noticeable branches splitting off. All of this capped off by the rather revealing swimsuit he was wearing, which was clinging to his body and showing off all the seductive curves and lines of his hips. But the biggest change by far was how big he’d become. When he’d been a kid Jason had always been short, but now…..now he was easily over six feet tall, making me feel a little small as he stood over me. 
It had been a long time since I’d been that aroused that quickly. My tail thrashed from side to side, my toes curled in want, I even inhaled sharply, find myself at a loss for words except a week “It’s ok.” To which he smiled widely at me before pulling me into a hug and thanking me for not being mad. In truth, I don’t remember what he said during that time; I was too busy feeling his strong muscular arms and chest against mine. The hug lasted barely even ten seconds but by the time he let me go and ran back to the pool where the kids were, my heart was pounding and even part of my body was telling me to grab him and ride him like a stallion.
I made up some half baked excuse and practically ran back to my house. I don’t think the door had even finished closing before I was pulling down my pants and underwear. How long had it been since I’d been with a man? My husband had left me after only five years of marriage. Sure id had flings and one night stands but….nothing more. But those thought ended abruptly as my fingers brushed against my sex. With a jolt that made my face turn deep red I found I was already starting to get wet, the feeling of slickness on my fingers a painfully obvious sign of arousal. 
My breathing quickened slightly, becoming short pants as my fingers worked, stroking, petting and rubbing all the exact places I knew they needed to. My stomach heaved, my back arching while my head rolled back as deep throaty moans escaped my open and panting mouth. All I could think about was Jason. His large muscular arms, his perfectly fit and firm chest. Before I knew it I had gone from stroking to fingering, my digits slipping deep inside my; by now soaking pussy, enticing a deep almost feral growling moan from my chest. I wanted him, I wanted him so badly. I wanted him to grab me and pin me down. To push me against a wall, rip off my clothes and take me right then and there. Hell I didn’t even care if others saw. He could fuck me in front of the whole neighborhood and I wouldn’t have cared. That though spurred my on, my fingers movements becoming faster, making me moan louder and jerk harder as I imagine the scene. 
Jason grabbing me by the arms, pushing me down to the ground. The feeling of his strong grip making me know I was completely at his mercy. I feeling or embarrassment mixing with arousal as he pulled down my pants and underwear, not even registering the resistance I was putting up. The faint huff of annoyance followed by the sudden swift and painful strike of his hand against my ass and pussy. “STOP STRUGGLING.” My fingers were completely inside me now, thrusting in and out of me as quickly as they could; as if they had a mind of their own. But none of that registered as the scene continued in my mind. I could almost taste the grass as he pushes my face into it. The feeling of helplessness and vulnerability only making me want him more. then a new feeling, the sensation of something thick and hard and very VERY big brushing against my exposed and by now wet pussy.
Sadly the scene ended there; exploding into a thousand fireworks as my fingers finally pushed me over the edge as they brushed against my clit. My head snapped backwards, a loud and echoing roaring moan erupting from my body as my climax slammed into me like a ton of bricks; making my knees wobble and shake with the effort to keep me upright. In all the pleasure I don’t even remember saying Jason’s name, but once I did I couldn't stop. Loud deep wanting feral moans of “Jason” filled the air as my fingers refused to stop; each stroke against my clit making me moan and gasp and twitch again. I wanted him, lion Christ I wanted him so badly it hurt. I wanted to feel him inside me. I wanted him to pin me down and take me. I wanted to ride him like a stallion and keep him cumming until either he or I died from the pleasure. 
I couldn't tell you how long I stayed like that. With my fingers all the way jammed up inside me, stroking and thrusting and making me cum over and over and over. I couldn't tell you how many times I said Jason’s name or how many times I came. It’s all a blur of want and need and the overwhelming urge to have his cum inside me. 
I do remember afterwards though. I remember panting and shaking as my knees finally gave out; making me slump against the front door and slide down until I was sitting on the cool plastic tiles in front of my door. I remember shuddering and panting, feeling like I’d just run a marathon. I remember pulling my fingers from me; earning me a loud groan at the sudden feeling of emptiness. For a moment my attention was pulled elsewhere, the feeling of just how much of my juiced had soaked my fingers making me blush with embarrassment. The black fur was drenched in my juices, the faintly sweet aroma wafting through the air. For a long time I sat there in a heap; the ghosts of pleasure wafting through my body, making me shudder and twitch uncontrollably. 
After a while my lust began to fade, taking with it the white hot need that had filled me before; leaving in its wake a feeling an intense feeling of embarrassment and a little hint of shame. Jason wasn't of age, he was 17 and still had another six months before he’d be 18 years old. What was she doing fantasizing about him. The young stag probably had dozens of girls, no doubt he could pick and choose whoever he wanted and have them at a moment’s notice. Why would he ever want her, the lonely neighbor cougar? That thought made her stomach churn slightly. She hated being called a cougar. Sure, she was an actual cougar and when used in that context she didn’t mind it. but too often when she went to a bar after work some young fur would saddle up to her and use some horribly stupid pick up line to test her and she if she really was one. 
Closing my eyes shifted slightly, allowing my head to rest against the cool surface of the front door. Was I really a cougar? Sure I’m a little older than other girls would might be interested in Jason, having just turned 28 about a month ago. But…..I don’t feel like a cougar and I certainly don’t think I look like one. I’m slim, my hips and waist still managing to have curves and be seductive. My breasts are still perks and still respond when touched and stimulated. 
After a few moment I open my eyes. No……no I’m not a cougar, not in that sense. I’m still young, still vibrant, still sexy. And I’ll prove it to myself by seducing Jason…….in six months when he turns 18.