Blow Dry (Violet Vapors)

Fresh green grass sprouted from the ground only recently buried in layers of frost and snow, rejuvenating the small park with spring flowers while the trees displayed their new galleries of leaves. Bidoofs and budews scampered through the returning fields composing the cozy little park. There was hardly a better day for the first picnic of the year, or at least that’s what the duo sitting on the red and white blanket thought. Harry had decided to take work off today, and sure enough his inseparable companion and only employee at his small store laid beside him.

Violet’s trainer looked around the mostly empty park, finding little more to see than the odd wild pokemon or the trail that brought them here. Less appealing were the stacks of completely emptied tupperware once holding their lunch. Laying down and nursing a noticeably swollen belly was the cinderace responsible for devouring most of the homegrown berries and store bought potato salad. He could hardly complain though, she was the only one who could clean out old inventory after the produce had sat out so long unsold. Yet the unusual lagomorph savored the aged fruit, enjoying the softer texture and sour/sweet fermentation that developed. Now she laid out and let the volatile combination of so much human food and arguably expired berries simmer inside her.

	Watching how relaxed she was pressed into his side, he caught the attention of those lavender eyes submerged in the reflection of the blue sky above them. Violet grinned exposing her buckteeth and tugged his sleeve. “Oh, what is it?” She answered him by pointing lazily directly above them, tracking the gradual movement of a great white cloud above them. The human took her suggestion and laid back down beside her, the unusually purple rabbit wasting no time to slide herself close enough to rub her white fur flush against him.

“What do you see up there in the clouds?” Despite the usual lethargy after a hearty meal like that, her smile and eager movements had a playful energy to them. Staring him down for a moment to make sure he was watching, the eggplant colored rabbit stuck her pointy ears back, making menacing eyes and sticking out her tongue.

	“Yeah, I think that one kind of looks like a haunter too!” Perhaps his innate understanding shouldn’t have surprised her with the connection they’d cultivated over the years, but she still happily wiggled wrinkles into the blanket knowing he got it so quickly. Again she pointed to a different cloud, but instead of pantomiming a suggestion she watched him with anticipation. “Huh, well that one is awfully round. Maybe it could be a voltorb.”

	Placing a paw on his chin to guide his gaze downward, she showed off her own suggestion with the noticeably rounded curve of her bloated stomach. Pushing his head down further into her cloud-like fur, he could hear just how aggressively her tumultuous tummy was working through all that food. By the time he had swiveled his head against her fuzzy midsection to look back at her, she was miming an explosion sound with arms spread out. Unable to stop his eyes from rolling, he rubbed her messy spike of mauve hair. “Yeah, I’m sure you’re more explosive than any self-destructing voltorb out there.”

	The upturned corners of her mouth fully showcased her front teeth as she beamed with pride just hearing him say that. Of course her tendency to produce enough fumes to put a ghastly to shame hadn’t always been something she took pride in, but it was nice to be acknowledged for her special talents. “Alright, let’s find another cloud before you go making one of your own.” With an impish smirk she quickly pecked a kiss on his cheek, prompting him to return the favor in a way that made her ears jolt upward for a moment. “Love you too.”

Returning to their entertainment this afternoon, he looked up only to see a much darker cloud on the horizon. “When did that get here? I guess it kind of looks like a muk?” Violet held onto her post-picnic pudge with a wince as a less intentional impression of a grimer growled out of her. “Maybe we should pack up before it starts raining…” While he started to rise to his feet, the unhurried bunny twitched slightly as she felt a wet droplet hit her purple nose. As if a legendary pokemon had swept the rain in with the flap of a wing, the sound of countless more raindrops crashed into the park and sent both of them to their feet. Sheets of spring rain fell over one another, drenching the duo as Harry rolled up the blanket and Violet chucked empty containers back into the basket.

	Perhaps a summer storm would be refreshing, but this wasn’t summer. At this point in spring the temperature drop was highly unappreciated. Jumping into action under the unexpected deluge, they both looked around only to see empty fields and distant shrimpy trees that might provide a bit of shelter. Pelted by the weather Violet could just barely make out something better in the distance. Further along the trail quickly filling with puddles was a small wooden gazebo with just enough dry space for two. Reaching out to hold his hand, he followed her lead as she unceremoniously tugged him in the right direction. Both made a rather jumbled dash toward the little shelter, but not before becoming completely soaked themselves.

	Kicking a spray of water that darkened the aged wood underneath them, each gasped as they caught their breaths in the relatively dry space under the rounded roof. Their equally wet basket now haphazardly stuffed with their picnic supplies fell to the side, dripping it’s own silhouette along their moist footprints. “I guess we’re stuck here until this settles down…” Although it felt good to stop after running, the dawning reality of being cold and wet was already sinking in like the icy water through his clothes. With open sides all around, the cold breeze brought in trace amounts of rain over the cobwebbed benches and tiny tables to erase any hope of him drying out by just waiting.

	Looking back at the spunky cinderace, she had a look of concentration on her face before FWOOM! Like lighting a match in a furnace, Violet’s body temperature had surged in the way only a fire type’s could. Although the more wet matted fur on her head was less affected, the soaked fur around the core of her body was instantly transformed into light fluffy fur like cotton taken out of the dryer. Shaking hard to give herself an even messier head of purple than normal, she flung the cold water over the rest of the dry space before jumping in the air miraculously recovered from the rainstorm still banging against the roof above them.

	Only once she came down from her victory against the elements did she notice Harry was now even wetter than before, causing an abrupt end to her little dance with a sheepish smile. “It’s fine, d-don’t worry about it.” As much as he tried to resist the urge, he stuttered as a shiver went through his body. Folding his arms in a bid to keep warm, he forced a smile. “No really, it’s f-f-fine. I’m not going to catch a cold, that’s an old w-wive’s tale.” In response the living space heater walked much closer to him, now drying out the shape of her pawprints with a puff of steam after each step. Tugging gently on a wet sleeve, his face reddened thinking about what she wanted.

	Back when she was a raboot and preferred to hide her skuntank heritage, she had on several occasions offered to dry his wet clothes after an abrupt rainstorm on the walk back home or if the dryer was on the fritz. Of course this required him to derobe, allowing her to “blow dry” the clothes in private the same way she liked to plant little gifts for him deep in the fabric of his pillow. Although she deeply enjoyed the notion of scent marking anything he owned it wasn’t just for pleasure, her literally sweltering exhaust could dry sopping wet towels (which she would sometimes offer an unaware Harry much to his chagrin). Continuing to salaciously watch for his reaction, he stammered out. “Uh, w-well, I’m sorry but even without anyone out here I don’t really want to take off all my c-c-clothes in the open like this…”

	Violet shook her head, and decided to give a demonstration of what she had in mind. Twirling around, she made a show of drawing his attention to her plump plum posterior and unusually tall fluffy rabbit tail. Maybe it was her habit of being a couch potato in front of the TV, her diet, or the skuntank genes, but she had an awfully noticeable bubble butt on top of those thick runner’s thighs. Backing up slowly with a smug look over her shoulders, she pressed her furry backside against his leg. Not even pressing that hard against him, or even started to “blow dry” him, there was an impressive amount of toasty warmth that made his frozen knees weak. Smushing those cheeks harder against his leg to envelop more of his soaked pants in her welcoming heat, he started to get her idea.

	“You don’t even need me to take the wet clothes off, do you?” Her answer came with a demure paw over her mouth, as if to say either option is fine but it wasn’t going to stop her from comforting her miserably drenched partner. As the rain continued to pitter patter outside with a splash against the sodden grass, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. With minimal strain she effortlessly uncorked a delightfully dry whistle muffled by it’s pointblank proximity to his leg. Her belly contained a blast furnace of blisteringly hot gas, but she eased out a drawn out toot that served as little more than a literal warm-up. Continuing for a couple seconds, she raised a leg to finish on a more forceful blurt of toasty air that rumbled through his thigh. Letting out a pleased exhale, she noticed his shaking had calmed down.

	With a lot more ground to cover and pepper in her guttural windstorm, she began to grind up and down his legs. Gliding those pleasantly round and heated glutes every which way, his mind was lost in the sensation of soft fur and cushioned cheeks gracing his freezing body like a healing touch. Even through layers of clothing she planted short bubbling farts like sloppy kisses that pushed steam straight against his skin alongside almost clockwork coos of relief. However as she began to move further in longer strokes across his wet skin, the smell began to escape her purple crevice in wafts of steam.

As much as his flesh tingled in anticipation of being brushed over by her warm malleable mounds, the aggressively sour variant of skuntank stench made him cough on the aroma of old fruit turned abysmally rotten in the deceptively cute rabbit’s digestive system. Perhaps he’d grown to find an intoxicating beauty in that smell she’d pumped out in his presence for ages, but the caustic qualities of this latest batch of raunchy rippers had him conflicted as his nose burned but his pants were slowly ironed out by her fluffy friction.

	Lost in what she saw as a life saving lap dance being administered to Harry, most of her focus was on the teasingly slow release of her pent-up gas. Every puff against him was like a hiss of invisible spraypaint, unable to be seen but noticed by anyone with a working nose. Every extra outburst deeply marked him in her unique long lasting scent that wove into his fabric a sign he had already had a loving mate. Rocking back and forth on his crotch before releasing a short wet fart that morphed into an airy horn as the hot air wicked away any moisture, she was knocked out of her trance by a serious gas cramp. Despite the repetition a pop or sputters against his body every minute, she was still holding back.

	Locking eyes with him for a moment, she pulled away with a shimmy of her hips and a strut towards one of the creaking benches. Hopping on top of it, the young man was almost magnetically drawn to her as the lack of her fireplace-like embrace left him feeling cold and wet once again. Unspeakably happy to see him willfully walk through her trail of smog still airing out of her crack, she bent low on the bench to bounce her backside into him with a soft thud. Violet was ready to really release a beast from the depths of her bowels, and to prepare for the occasion she braced herself against one of the supporting wooden beams like an unconventional pole dancer. Nearly doubled over and burying her ass as deeply as she could into his chest, she let out a grunt of effort and twitched her tail.

	A deep foghorn like bass reverberated through his core as the torrent of ragingly hot flatulence poured over his shirt and thumped into his chest in a choppy reverberating blast of fire type furnace gas. Gripping the beam and clenching her stomach harder, her tongue slipped out of her mouth in bliss as she exploded like a volcano stuffed with potato salad scented sulfur and sour grapes. The recipient of her biggest back blast that day or possibly even all week was happy to let her exhaust wash over him, hell he even found himself sniffing the vile air deeply because the feeling of warm air in his lungs overpowered his involuntarily watering eyes.

	The muffled tone of her outburst only deepened as he leaned forward to wrap his arms around her waist. Too preoccupied dropping this fat bubbling bomb of odorized steam, her ears went limp in pleasure as she registered his hands grip her stomach while her monumental release sputtered to an end. Sighing in relief, she sank a bit lower to be supported by his arms and lean against the dusty table instead. Bending forward he whispered into a sagging rabbit ear. “Maybe I should help you out… I don’t want to catch a cold, do I?” Immediately accepting his terms with a relaxed nod, she felt the knots inside her loosen as he began kneading her bloated frame. With another ecstatic sigh, she blindly wiggled around her rump to reach more of him as he helped her unload.

	Tickling his face with her tail before (shockingly) unknowingly dropping her relaxed rear exit on his head, she bit her lip with those buckteeth and let out a silent stream of more heinously fermented warmth. Without any tension in her body the fart continued to ooze out of her, only varying in tone when her leg began to thump against the bench happily. Pneumonia was the least of his worries as his lungs filled with the burning hot gas leak, vision replaced entirely by the ecstatically deflating cinderace finally getting rid of all that rancid wind built up inside her oven.

	Humming to herself happily, she knew it was a good thing she didn’t share this morning’s weather report with her trainer. Spewing out another steamy serving of her acrid aroma as she leisurely emptied her gas tank, her half lidded eyes failed to notice the rain lessen outside the gazebo. Similarly the young man becoming lightheaded on all the rank rabbit fumes being blown his way had all of his senses overpowered by the lovingly toxic bunny booty he voluntarily pulled himself closer to like a combined heated blanket and dutch oven.

	And so they would continue in that fashion until a dumbfounded but dry Harry pulled back to see the only “rain” left was the droplets dripping from the roof above them. The only thing he was doused in now was the gallons of foul toasty air he’d absorbed with virtually every part of his body.

“Wait, when did it stop raining?”