Slow Animals

Noelle groaned as an errant light beam on her eyelid dragged her back to the world of the waking. As cobwebs began to clear, Hometown’s favorite daughter made out the familiar sleigh bells of her alarm clock, jingling out into the void in vain. The chimes that had awakened the star student for nearly a decade had failed their task this morning.

She wouldn’t blame them, though, muffled as they were by the floor. Or, the ceiling. She wondered how long she’d overslept.

Feelings flitted back to her in waves. Early morning grog dulled her vision and beat her head like a drum. An ache squeezed itself back to life in her chest, joined quickly by a friend in her abdomen. The fur between her thighs felt damp and slick. Her chest felt even worse, with its normally well-kempt coat matted and nearly drenched. In the cold of the winter morning, the exposed wet patches chilled uncomfortably, prompting the young doe to squirm in place.

That squirming brought to her attention the most pressing feeling of all: weight. The weight of another body entwined in her own pinned her onto the family couch. The hand not trapped under her couchmate reached up to rub the sleep away from her eyes.

For his part, the human making her his pillow slept like a satisfied baby. Which he was, on some level. The light never seemed to bother him in the mornings. She guessed it had something to do with that curtain of hair he wore over his eyes.

He was snoozing so soundly she almost didn’t have the heart to wake him. But she needed to get up and find her phone. And he’d need to get himself home before his mother left for the chapel.

She searched for motivation. The time Dess explained why Kris always asked her about a long face even when she wasn’t sad sprung into her mind. Her reluctance melted away.

“Kris,” she called, tapping on the head buried in her shoulder. “Kris, it’s time to get up. It’s morning.”

After a few moments of prodding, the weary human grunted. Quickly, for someone half asleep, he caught her free hand in his, loosely entwining their fingers. With the threat vanquished, her dozing paramour buried his face deeper into her neck and offered her a contented groan.

She wondered if he knew what he was doing. Making himself look as comfortable and serene as possible so she’d feel guilty about waking him. Kris was slow on the uptake sometimes, but enough exposure seemed to have clued him into her weaknesses.

She wasn’t about to let the layabout snuggle his way out of church with his mother, though. Come rain or shine or thunder or hail, as sure as the sun rose on Sunday, Toriel Dreemurr shepherded her household to the Hometown Chapel. It had been that way since the days when the Holidays managed to find time to make the trip. Noelle wasn’t about to let Kris break the tradition.

She searched again for motivation. The time he’d pointed to her overbite as evidence she was adopted from a family of jackalopes came back to her. That was enough.

Noelle bucked her shoulder, shaking the drowsy boy as she slipped out from under him.

“Seriously, Kris, you’ve got to get up. You might already be late.”

The boy mumbled something incoherent, and curled up in the space she had just occupied. He could be so hopeless, sometimes.

She’d have to deal with him in a moment. Right now the first order of business was finding her phone.

Noelle peeled herself from their illicit nest, and stretched her arms up skyward like it was any other morning. One final yawn escaped her lips, as she surveyed the scene before her.

Her most sensible skirt sat in a grey puddle halfway to the fireplace. A familiar green shirt and pair of black dress pants lay together near in the dull light of the soon-to-be in season Christmas tree in the corner. Her sweater and undershirt lay off to her left, wadded up under the watchful gaze of the family portrait. She caught sight of her phone shining in between them.

Noelle stepped forward and lurched as something tugged her ankle. She looked down, and furrowed her brow at the red and green striped traitors that had almost brought her to the ground. So that was where they had gone.

She stepped her other leg through her panties and slipped them back on. That’d have to be punishment enough. The flustered doe retrieved her phone and winced when she saw its scant battery capacity.

She flicked away an unanswered text from Kris announcing his arrival, and frowned when she saw that was her only message. She’d reached out to her father yesterday afternoon and hadn’t heard back, even overnight.

Best not to think about it.

The sweet bells of her alarm bled into a blare. For most of her life, she’d never heard more than the first tones of the device’s rousing song. Of late, though, she’d grown familiar with its entire routine. Its entire miserable routine.

It’d shut up eventually, when it realized no one was coming.

Noelle cast one last glance down at her phone. 7:39 in the morning. Much earlier than she had feared.

She relaxed, a little. Father Alvin’s service began at 10. She had well over an hour to find a way to send the lunk on her couch back to his waiting mother.

An old adage about honey and vinegar wandered into her mind.

Noelle yelped as something tugged on her tail. She froze up for only the briefest moment, before the rational part of her mind reminded her what had been tugging on her tail since she was a fawn.

“So now you want to get up, huh?” she asked the boy behind her, with mirth creeping into her voice. “Gee, I wonder what changed.”

Kris let her keep wondering, content to twiddle with the fluffy white appendage hovering over her bottom.

He’d always been fond of her tail, she knew. Even after more than a decade of seeing it, the little poof could still mesmerize him. It was sort of charming, in a childish kind of way.

Noelle withdrew Kris’ favorite toy as she spun around to face him. He was leaning against the armrest of the couch, disheveled and now slightly disappointed, but fully awake. It looked like he had even managed to find his underwear, although he’d opted to drape them up onto the back of the couch instead of wearing them.

For safekeeping? Or because he really was figuring out her patterns. One of the two.

Noelle tossed her dying phone onto the far side of the couch. She could plug it in later.

“Looks like you were saved by the bell,” she told him. “It’s going to be a while before church starts after all.”

Kris simply nodded at her, as if he had been keeping track of time in his sleep. Maybe he really had, for all she knew. In many ways, the boy had proved to be an enigma.

He was very predictable in others, though.

Kris’ little fellow greeted her from between his legs, already at attention. Because of her, she realized, with a perverted sort of pride. The sight of her standing there, doing absolutely nothing had gotten him all riled up. She tried not to let it make her smile.

She liked to imagine his eyes followed her intently, as she sauntered over and sat down next to him. “Looks like we may have time to kill, after all,” she murmured.

He didn’t need to be told twice. Noelle’s bottom had barely touched chenille when a hand snaked around it and clasped her hip. She scooched closer to him, and reached her own arm around his back. With the distance between them closed, Noelle, ever mindful of her antlers, rested her cheek on his shoulder.

He liked the slow lead-ins. She wouldn’t give him everything he wanted, but she could let him have those. If only because she kind of liked them too.

She drank in his warmth, for a minute. Even through her fur, she could feel the heat billowing off the boy. She had no idea how he did it, always managing to feel stiflingly warm to the touch despite being so… bald. Humans were strange that way, she guessed.

The hand on her hip began tracing lazy circles. Or hearts, maybe. She couldn’t tell.

Of course, she reasoned, he hadn’t been the one sleeping in built-in wet spots. Sodden fur all over half his body might cool him down a bit.

Her own hand slipped off of his shoulder, finding a new home around the boy’s abs. He wasn’t quite fit, but he was a lot sturdier than she would have guess months ago. Shiny green nails gently grazed his yellowy skin.

His hand found enough courage to start slipping down.

Noelle nuzzled her face into his shoulder, still careful not to prod him. With her nose crushed against him as it was, it was impossible to ignore his scent. Not that she minded. He smelled good.

No, good wasn’t the word for it. Her red little nose detected the smell of sweat, spent adrenaline, and a sharp, musky, boyish kind of smell she didn’t have a word for. Good surely wasn’t the one. Desirable seemed like a better fit.

Kris’ hand slipped between her and the couch, finally venturing deep enough to grab at her butt. She was surprised he hadn’t gone for her tail by now.

Noelle wasn’t exactly in a position to throw stones about smell, anyway. Their nights never left her smelling like a spring daisy, and if anything that only ever made Kris more excited.

Noelle mewled into Kris’ shoulder, as the probing hand finally gave her a firm squeeze. Her heart rate was starting to pick up, now, and each breath was getting ever so slightly deeper than the last.

She felt something shift above her. Before she had a chance to wonder a pair of lips pressed to the crown of her head, leaving behind a faint smeck as they went.

Brave boy, she mused, behind the haze settling onto her mind. He’d risked his eyes just to do that. She couldn’t let that go unrewarded. She could afford to give him a taste of what he really wanted.

Gingerly, with all the care in the world, Noelle lifted her head off of Kris’ shoulder.

She leaned even further into him, wrapping her arm around his waist for support. Their faces were a scant handful of centimeters apart. Everything was still, except for his warm breath blowing down on her face. Behind the nigh-impenetrable mop of brown hair, Noelle could swear she saw shining little slivers of crimson.

They were gentle at first, like always. Soft, feathery, chaste kisses that didn’t so much as make a sound when he pressed them to her lips.

His hand freed itself from her posterior, making a familiar trip up her hip, then her tummy, her ribs, and her shoulder, leaving little tickles in its wake. Finally, it rested on her cheek, holding her head in place for him. Idly, his finger tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. What a gentleman.

As his other hand snuck up to cradle her face, he grew bolder. Every kiss felt ever so slightly heavier than the last. Rougher, and more demanding.

But he was good. He didn’t try to go deeper than he was allowed. Her own lips perked up to meet him, falling into a familiar rhythm of smacks and wet little pops.

Her eyes fluttered shut when his fingers started to lace in her hair. He was getting more excited, but so was she. The heat in her belly grew.

Noelle rewarded her suitor with dainty, ladylike coos. He liked them. His kisses became ever longer, more insistent.

Noelle gasped when she felt teeth catch her lower lip, grazing lightly and earning the boy an unbidden, decidedly unladylike moan.

Now it was starting to become too much. A small fire was roaring inside her, but a much larger one seemed to have flashed to life in her companion. Even as she relished being delightfully caught in his grasp, she knew she had to do something.

He was going to break one of her only rules if she let him keep this up. She’d allowed him all manner of exploration and access to her, but she’d drawn a line in the sand at tongue kisses. She wasn’t going to let him get the wrong idea.

He seemed determined to, though. Noelle’s body was starting to feel light, and she couldn’t find a comfortable position to sit in, but she willed herself to think of something. As Kris’ kisses grew ever more forceful, more intrusive, she finally snuck a hand onto his knee.

Lost as she was in a storm of butterflies and sloppy wet warmth, her fingers were still able to follow a straight line. Right as she was sure he was moving in for the kill, her fingertips grazed something hard, and burning hot.

Kris was the one who gasped, this time, stopping dead in his tracks at the unexpected contact. Noelle pounced on the opportunity, catching him firmly in her grasp, and slipping her head around his so they were ear-to-ear.

For the first time in what felt like hours, Noelle breathed in deep through her mouth, shaking off some of the hormonal fog. That had come far too close to the line. If he had actually managed to sneak a dastardly tongue in there, she wasn’t confident that she’d have had the presence of mind to stop him. She must have fallen asleep half-finished, last night. She had gotten far too into that.

If Kris was disappointed by her breaking away, he wasn’t showing it. The hands that seconds ago were controlling her head slipped loosely around her shoulders, hugging her to him.

If she really wanted to be a stickler she shouldn’t allow that, either, but it wasn’t worth totally killing the mood over. For a moment, the formerly frenzied teens just sat and caught their breath.

“That got a little intense,” she ventured when her breathing steadied. She felt him nod in response.

Gently, now.

“Maybe, uh… a little too…” she tried, in what was supposed to be a firm voice.

He rescued her from her stumbling with a simple one-word apology, equal parts sincere and sullen.

Noelle winced.

He’d even spoken. It was serious.

She could sympathize with him, in some regards. The memory of that afternoon was still fresh in her mind, for as old as it was becoming. To Noelle’s credit, she had always meted out infinitely gentler rejections to Kris than the one she received.

She couldn’t dwell on it too long. The pair of them had been having a nice morning, and they were going to again.

She gave his thing a squeeze, earning a little grunt from the instantly-less-miserable boy. He was still as hot, and stiff, and slightly slick as he had been a minute ago. She silently thanked her cute little friend for not being as prone to sulking as the other, bigger friend wrapped around her.

“Do you want me to take care of this?” she offered, in her best seductive voice.

Kris shuddered a little but didn’t bother responding. Both of them knew the question was as good as rhetorical.

“Just lay back,” she told him. Kris complied, letting go of her back. He made himself comfortable up against the frame of the couch, his back to its usual stony expression. Not exactly ecstatic, but about as happy as she ever saw the boy.

Noelle smiled to herself as she slid off the couch. What a difference ten seconds and the promise of mouth stuff could make.

From their perch on the wall, the painted eyes of all four members of the Holiday family watched as Noelle found a comfortable spot on her knees in front of the human in their living room.

Noelle distantly registered the wail of her alarm, stifled but still discernable on an otherwise quiet morning. She hoped it’d shut up soon. Eventually, it’d have to realize no one was coming for it.

(Chapter 2)

She wiggled her rump just once, and confirmed that her folded legs made for a sturdy base. She didn’t need any mishaps this morning.

She rested a hand on his knee, pushing ever so gently to part his legs and free what she was after. What had quickly become her favorite part of the boy greeted her from between the valley of his thighs, lively and springy as ever.

And leaking, it seemed. She couldn’t fight back a little grin at the sight of it. Half-finished already, from just a few kisses.

Well, a lot of kisses. Nice ones, even, she could admit in the privacy of her own mind. But just kisses. There was something intoxicating about the feeling that brought her.

Kris’ mouth rarely spoke, but she had found over the course of their string of trysts that his body was quite talkative. And it always had something flattering to say about her.

A manicured nail brushed up against his tip, which bobbed at the contact like she knew it would. Even such a simple, innocuous motion could set the little fellow on edge. It was adorable.

On some level she wanted to share her appreciation with Kris directly. He always seemed so happy when she praised him. But she knew better. She was no expert on boys but she quite strongly suspected that Kris wouldn’t appreciate hearing that his thing was little and cute and spirited and funny.

She’d have to borrow a page from his playbook and say it without words, then.

She cradled Kris in her hand and leaned forward, with just the tip of her tongue poking through her lips. Until she noticed a problem.

She was not a giraffe.

“Scooch,” she told the genius who hadn’t had the foresight to park himself on the edge of the couch. He scooched, earning a creak from the sofa beneath him.

Honestly, he could be so hopeless sometimes. Couldn’t even get himself set up to have his thing sucked on.

He was lucky she was around.

She started with just a flick of her tongue. One little microsecond of contact to get a taste of the shiny translucent fluid running down his little fellow. His thingy. Their shared friend.

His cock, she finally allowed herself, as the salty taste registered. Even after all that she’d done, even just in her mind, the word still felt so wonderfully dirty.

She leaned forward gave his cock another lick. Just a fraction longer than this time, lapping up just a bit more of his salty, sticky offering. She let it settle on her tongue before swallowing. She licked her lips.

Those trashy teen magazines she was too embarrassed to actually buy called the stuff an acquired taste. If they were right, then it hadn’t taken her long to acquire it.

The class president reached a tender hand around the back of Kris’ cock, to keep it from getting too jumpy. With her prey secured, she leant in for the kill.

She took her time lapping at him, savoring the intoxicating flavor and the musky smell that came with it. That wonderful hard-to-name scent radiated off of him down there just as sure as his body heat did.

As with everything else in life, Noelle was conscientious about taking care of Kris’ cock. She traced a neat wet trail along the path of the glimmering rivulet flowing from his tip, cleaning him as she went.

When she reached the peak of her ascent, she offered him one last luxurious lick, wicking off the last of his precum. That earned her a grunt from up above.

A stifled, quiet little grunt. As if he were trying to act tough. Playing hard to get. She’d have to see how long that’d last.

His cock was more honest than he was. For something with no face, hands or voice, the flushed pink dick practically screamed for her attention, unmistakable in a way its owner rarely was.

She gave the head a little peck, to thank it for the appetizer. And another to thank it for being cute. And then another for good measure. And a fourth just because she felt like it. When she was sure the perky appendage felt appreciated, she put a hand on Kris’ knee for support and drew closer.

She was careful of her teeth, as she took him into her mouth, giving him a wide berth to slide under her overbite. It was a bit awkward on her jaw, but experience reminded her that nothing was more awkward than biting dicks.

His warmth only magnified in the wetness of her mouth. Even with just the tip inside, that radiant heat spread right to her head, rekindling the fire that had been crackling minutes ago. Every inch she managed to take felt like it raised her whole body’s temperature a few degrees. By the time she had to grapple with her old friend the gag reflex, she was burning.

Kris’ coy act was over by the time her nose pressed into his stomach. A choked gasped slipped out of his lips when she hilted herself on him. While she rested for a moment to get acclimated, he gently placed a hand on top of her head.

That was good, she thought. It was always nice when he took some initiative.

When she was feeling good and confident, she pulled back, with the aid of a gentle push from his hand. The second time down was far easier, now that she was ready and he was already slick. By the time she took him the third time she was practically on autopilot.

It hadn’t always been so smooth. On the night it all started, she’d been such a wreck with so little idea what she was doing that she’d nearly skinned him. It wasn’t a pleasant memory, but she did feel… something when she compared the poor innocent little girl from that night to what she was now.

Pride, if she was being generous.

The proud girl had long since lost count of how many strokes she was on. Twenty something was the last she could remember. Kris’ hand was proving very useful. The extra pushing and pulling from up above took the pressure off of her neck muscles as the two of them settled into their rhythm.

Noelle enjoyed the sounds they made together. The sick wet slurp she made on her descent and the quiet little grunt she got in return made a perverse little song. Every couplet grew just a fraction of an octave louder, and a speck sloppier.

It was almost starting to drown out the sound of her alarm.

Kris was tracing shapes that were probably hearts into her hair. He seemed to be as taken with their music and their warmth and the soft wet friction between them as she was.

Possibly more so, she realized. Being on the receiving end was supposed to be the good part, after all. But she thought she could give him a run for his money.

In the beginning they had shared in the exciting stuff. The newness of it all was something they enjoyed together, all of the ups and downs and mishaps and discoveries.

When the novelty wore off, they had shared the thrill of brazenly fooling around in the Holidays’ living room. The looming chance of being caught had made every encounter exhilarating. Those kicks died quickly when it became apparent that they ran absolutely zero risk of being discovered, though.

The only special spark left was the wrongness, and that was one she couldn’t share. Blowing the jackass neighbor boy as he lounged in Dess’ favorite spot on the couch, in a room full of countless family memories was something that just couldn’t translate. He’d have to make do with animal magnetism and good old fashioned pleasure.

Noelle looked up at him, trying to find his eyes behind all that hair. His face was flushed, and his tongue was peeking out of his mouth. She could even hear the ragged intake of all that breath he was groaning out. But she couldn’t spot even one little red fleck behind the mask. They must’ve been closed.

Kris broke the rhythm first. In all his apparent zeal, he pulled her down harder than she expected, sending his cock down her throat at a rough angle. Noelle’s windpipe locked into a gag, and she sputtered onto him. That hand of his was quick to push her off.

She toppled off balance, landing on her butt, and choking on her own spit.

For the second time that day the boy graced her with his words, again to apologize. Concern was plain in his voice when he asked if she was alright.

Noelle could only cough and wave a hand in response. It was good that he was the type of person to make sure she was alright. Really. It was a lot better than the alternative. But she sort of wished he hadn’t. Old slow-on-the-uptake Kris still hadn’t quite pieced together what kind of fantasy he was supposed to be fulfilling here.

“I’m fine,” she told him after a moment. “Just wasn’t expecting that, is all.”

He didn’t seem convinced.

“Really, you shouldn’t worry about it, okay?”

His frown told her he wasn’t following, but he nodded all the same. She tried not to let it drag down her mood. But she hated having to be the one pleading after he had a slip-up.

A slip-up that didn’t matter in the long run. It might have been unpleasant, but it’d be worse if she let him bother himself over it. She’d rather gag every time she went down on him than put up with him being gun-shy.

She’d need to make this obvious. Kris wasn’t great with nuance.

“Kris,” she offered, placing a hand on his knee again. “You know I’d… I’d rather you lean towards being too rough than being too gentle, right?”

It was blisteringly obvious that he didn’t know that, so she went on.

“I’ll just tell you if I want you to stop. You’re not going to kill me or anything.”

Finally, what looked like realization dawned on the parts of his face she could see.

He nodded at her. It seemed like he meant it.

“Are you still good to go?” She knew the answer to this question but it was just polite to ask.

Once again he nodded. She guessed they were finished with words for a while.

She put the awkwardness behind her and resumed her place between his legs.

Kris seemed to have taken her words to heart. His hand found its way back onto her head, guiding her with gusto. She was able to account for the extra force, now that it was steady.

Noelle was happy with the little mishap, in retrospect. As their sloppy rhythm slurped itself back to life, she found it even easier to enjoy herself. She was doing less work and getting a bigger reward.

With each bob of her head, Kris took a bit more initiative. She was more than happy to turn it over to him. His ever growing control of the situation made his desire unmistakable.

Her own desire was making it difficult to sit still. Heat was overflowing from her abdomen, and she could feel herself getting damp.

Noelle wasn’t sure what the cutoff was between a blowjob and having your mouth fucked, but they had to be approaching it. She also wasn’t sure when she had started moaning.

She did her best to move in time with him, to take him in as deep as possible, but his tempo was getting erratic. It was all she could do to fight her gag reflex for him.

Her nails dug into his quads, urging him to the finish as best she could. She could tell he was getting there from the strange tempo and the unconcealed moans that snuck out of him every so often, but she wasn’t sure how near he was.

Without warning, the hand tangled in her hair disappeared. The cock stayed right where it was, but Noelle opened eyes that she hadn’t realized she’d closed all the same. Before she could even gargle out a question, she felt it.

Her antlers. The hand, and its sibling had grabbed her antlers, right under the fork. And then couch springs moaned. And he was standing.

Noelle barely had time to process what was happening before she was acquainted with his belly again. The new angle and his new grip let him dig down deeper into her than he ever had. She almost gagged at the unexpected angle change, but caught herself in the nick of time. She couldn’t let him stop now.

She’d let him touch her horns, before, but the way he was yanking them to control her head was something she hadn’t experienced in any context. She was tingling all the way down to her spine, and the crown of her head was buzzing with a pleasant tension she’d never felt before.

A whole host of pleasurable sensations vied for her attention as her face met his thrusts.

She was moaning, and loudly. She could register that much. Deep, low, rumbling moans drowned out the wet slaps and Kris’ groaning and her alarm and everything else.

The hand that wasn’t supporting her weight began to wander between her legs. Before it could find anything, though, Kris interrupted her reverie with one of the loudest sounds she’d ever heard him make.

He groaned and slammed into her one final time, before she felt the first searing jet in the back of her throat. She could feel him pulse and strain against her tongue as he came.

After just a pair of squeezes, she felt him pull back. At first she thought he was finished already, but she soon realized it was simply so he could spurt the rest out into her mouth.

Truly, a gentleman, she found the presence of mind to think.

At some point she felt him release her antlers, and at a point soon after she fell on her butt again. The creaking of springs that may as well have been miles away told her he had done the same.

The sopping fire between her legs hadn’t let up, but after a moment the haze on her mind lifted.

Noelle felt a whore’s pride welling up in her chest as her tired mouth lolled his parting gift around. Mouth stuff had never gone that well before.

She would have to try the “telling Kris exactly what she liked” trick again sometime. It seemed to pay dividends.

She finally swallowed when her spit watered down his stuff. That had been a sticking point for her, once. As a vegan she wasn’t sure if it should count as an animal product or not. Eventually she realized it was a moot point either way. Kris didn’t exactly have to suffer for her to procure it.

He was the first one up, supporting his knees with his hands to help wrench himself off the couch. From her place on the floor she saw him reach down and offer her a hand. It took her a couple of tries to grab it.

She stumbled up on shaky legs, and lurched into him for support. As her arm snaked around his back, she was silently glad she hadn’t been a stickler about hugs earlier.

“Thanks,” she offered him after a minute like that. “That was… really good, Kris.”

It wasn’t lost on her that she was the one thanking him after a blowjob, but it would have felt weird not to say anything after that.

Kris made an approving sound, somewhere in the vein of “mhmm” and let it hang in the air for a moment. Then, as if struck by a revelation, he returned her thanks with a thank you of his own.

“Oh, you’re welcome Kris,” she said, taking a step back.

Before she could pass him to go collapse on the couch, though, a rare sight caught her eye.

Kris was smiling that big idiot smile of his. The one she’d never caught a glimpse of when they were kids, even when one of his stupid pranks went off without a hitch. The one he used to make when she complimented him. The one she hadn’t seen since they’d had that talk.

It was there for just a second before it petered out into a shadow of a smirk. But she knew what she saw.

She couldn’t help but smile back. It was great that they’d been able to turn that awkwardness around and have a good time.

Thoughts of time and Ms. Dreemurr and church flitted into her mind. She had no idea how long they’d been at it, but there were good odds she’d have to shoo him out the door fairly soon.

She was woefully aroused and didn’t have the energy to fight with him if he decided to be obstinate, but she had to try. One of them had to be responsible.

The blare of her alarm strangled the easy silence that had settled. She was going to take the batteries out of that thing one of these days.

Noelle wobbled over to the far end of the couch and freed her device from its cushiony prison.

As she was about to turn it on, though, something tugged on her tail.

Before she could even yelp, he spoke up.

He wondered if it wasn’t only fair that he take care of her now. After she had gone out of her way for him.

He was chatty, today.

It was only fair, she knew. And she’d very much like to do something about all the tension coiled up inside her.

She hesitantly tapped her phone’s lock button. 8:12, it told her with its dying breath. Your father still hasn’t messaged you. Just do it.

Good enough for her.

In the end she didn’t bother answering him. At least not verbally. As she tossed her device into a loose pile of clothes, they both knew the question was as good as rhetorical.

(Chapter 3)

The doe accepted the invitation of the hand on her tail, gliding backwards into an embrace.

One arm caught her by the across the waist, while its mate reached around to loosely cup at her chest. She leaned into him, allowing him to bear just a bit of her weight.

She wasn’t sure how much initiative he wanted to take, and she wasn’t confident that he could carry her entire body. But now was supposed to be her time, and she didn’t feel like supporting herself on shaky legs if she could help it.

Kris bore her well. If the portion of her weight bothered him, he showed it even less than he showed most other concerns. The hand on her waist grasped her hip, and the one on her chest tightened its grip. He stepped forward, bracing against her and bringing them flush together.

Noelle murmured something appreciative at him, which she assumed he heard. Their tight embrace seemed to put him in his own little world, savoring the tranquility just as she was.

His heat seeped into her, from his skin and from the hot breath streaming through golden locks onto the nape of her neck. He was trying to be subtle about smelling her hair, but her keen ears would have to have gone deaf to miss the little sniffs at such close range.

Absolutely hopeless, sometimes. But she’d let him think he was slick.

Something was thrumming at the middle of her spine. The source of his energy, his unfortunate feelings, and his delirious warmth thumped a quick, steady beat against her back.

Its rhythm, in tandem with the surprising security of the embrace and the smothering heat pouring into her, may have put Noelle to sleep if she was less riled up.

But she was practically swimming, at this point.

Her head spun as a myriad of intoxicating sensations fought for her attention; His smell, the lingering taste of him, his delicious heat, his strength as he held her, the tingles still crackling at the base of her antlers, and most alluring of all, the feeling of just being enjoyed by another person.
All of them tumbled and roiled and churned in her belly, vying to drive her mad.

All of them succeeded.

Her panties were losing the battle to keep the slickness on her thighs from spreading. Served the soggy things right for trying to trip her, earlier.

She gasped as the thumb which had started searching for her nipple at some point finally found it.

She really must have fallen asleep before reaching a final peak, she realized. She was falling all over the both of them and the boy behind her was hardly even doing anything.

The story of his life, really.

After a moment of swaying in his grasp, Noelle detected an old friend who had decided to greet her. She glanced down and confirmed that, yes, Kris’ cute, pink little tip was poking out between her thighs. In the back of her hormone addled mind, she couldn’t help but wonder if this was what unfortunate boys saw when they looked down.

Kris wasn’t unfortunate, though, least of all in that sense. She lacked a true frame of reference for such things, but she was sure he had a nice penis. It was thick, but not hard to wrap lips around, and a fair bit longer than her fingers. She couldn’t ask for much more than that.

If it weren’t for their height difference, his nice penis would be agonizing the both of them by nestling up against her entrance. Instead, they had to make do with it bobbing happily in between her upper thighs. She cursed her long legs.

The hand on her breast pawed harder, squeezing and tugging at the little brown treasure it had found. She rewarded its efforts with another gasp.

She was running out of patience for tame things, though. They both knew she was practically melting down there, and he hadn’t so much as tugged at her underwear.

She’d have to be the one to take the reins.

Noelle planted a hand between her thighs, tracing up against the trickle of warmth making its way to her knees. His cock almost jumped when she caught it, springing away like the surprise contact was an electric shock. Despite all the love she’d already given it this morning, she felt compelled to give its belly a gentle stroke. It jumped again. In appreciation, she imagined.

Kris’ grasping hand slowed down as he took in the new sensation. Before he had too long to think, though, Noelle slid him upwards. The wetness seeping out of her fulfilled its purpose, helping his cock easily glide along the gap of her thighs, all the way up to her entrance.

Kris’ hips bucked into her almost as soon as contact was made. The angle was too awkward for him to go in, and her panties blocked the way besides, but the boy thrusted as if on instinct. It was a terrifying power Noelle wielded.

Fleeting bolts of electricity surged through her abdomen as he rutted up against her once, then twice, and then… only twice. She forced an eye open in disbelief. Had he just finished himself?

No, she confirmed. There was no shiny, pearly goo decorating her underwear or the couch in front of them. He had just stopped.

She frowned as the boy disentangled himself from her, and wrapped his other hand around her hip.

Before she could even wonder, she was airborne.

She wasn’t off her feet for long. Her surprised yelp lingered longer in the air than she had. But the hip toss served its purpose. Noelle flopped ungracefully onto the plush piece of furniture, eminently grateful that her antlers weren’t sharp enough to hurt it.

She didn’t have long to think, though.

Something strange came over her as she bounced to a stop.

Phantoms of some far-off morning flitted into her sight, unbidden.

Tiny hooves hopped on the very cushion she’d come to rest on. Springs creaked and jolly hair ornaments jingled, and an excited, squeaky little falsetto cried “Mommy, mommy, look, I’m a flying reindeer!”

And a deeper, wearier voice simply answered, “Yes, yes, I see you. Now, that’s enough, dear. You’ll tear up the couch.”

Something stung.

Back in the present day, Kris’ hand slid under the band of her panties.

Right, this was what she was doing.

She had just been thrown onto the couch by an amorous delinquent. A delinquent who was being a good boy and taking the initiative.

And she’d have to give at least one of them some credit. Either he was stronger than she thought or she was lighter than she led herself to believe. She hadn’t been tossed like that since she was a little fawn.

She was no longer a little fawn, she reminded herself. She was a teenager having sex on the family couch like a whore and she was going to enjoy herself.

She registered the sensation of nails grazing against her slick lips. As the boy’s fingers found purchase against her gooey fur, she made sure to moan for him.

The pair of smooth, firm digits teasing her weren’t quite as dazzling as she’d imagined just a minute ago. The ones tweaking at her nipples weren’t mesmerizing her, either. Even her sweet little friend grinding its head against her lower back didn’t quite excite her.

She could feel the friction, and the heat, and even some distant trace of desire still smoldering down there, but for some reason the cocktail just wasn’t gripping her.

She tried to focus on the pleasure she knew was supposed to be there, to clear her head of the funk settling over it. But it was as if an errant lash had wedged itself in her mind’s eye.

She measured out a steady rhythm of moans and groans as she sought a way to focus on enjoying herself. Hopefully the slow-on-the-uptake boy pawing at her wouldn’t notice how half-hearted she sounded. Kris was doing the best impression of a sexually aggressive delinquent he ever had, this morning. She didn’t want to discourage him just because she had accidentally thought of her mother during sex.

She tuned out the incessant cry of her alarm, still belting its displeasure into the still of the morning. She was going to take that thing out of commission one of these mornings.

Eyes that just wouldn’t close locked onto the Christmas tree in front of the couch. Their mood lighting, last night.

In the dark, the aging fir’s mostly-working LED strands gave the teens just the right amount of illumination. Bathed in that red and green light, they could see where they were, and guide things where they needed to go. But the fine details were left up to the imagination.

In the light of the morning, the tree gave off just enough glow to highlight how brown it was getting. The bottom third of the once proud tree had taken on the color of cola, and the remaining green was minty and weak. But still, it endured.

The whole family had put the thing up last November, and she didn’t have the strength in any capacity to dispose of it all by herself. And she wouldn’t need to. It didn’t exactly look spritely, but it had enough fortitude to see two Christmases, if need be. She was sure of it.

He’d told her to throw it out. Get someone to help if she needed to. She’d told him he’d be the one helping her. That or the tree would just have to stay up.

For as knowledgeable as he was about everything related to their family’s favorite holiday, her father had drastically underestimated the tree’s fortitude.

She had to stop thinking about this now.

The girl peeled her eyes from the festive Rasputin and searched for anything else.

Kris’ fingers were knuckle deep inside her, she realized. And at an impasse. She opened her thighs for him, as a courtesy if nothing else. She made sure to gasp when he pressed further into her.

Convincingly, she hoped.

The struggling actress couldn’t quite rest her gaze on their scattered clothes. The shaggy vermillion carpet, slowly accruing debris and fuzz, was similarly boring. She dare not turn her eyes to the portrait.

The fireplace, she settled on, as the boy behind her twiddled away. Her tired eyes bored a hole into the washed out green soapstone of the family hearth. The old thing sat in clean, shiny repose as it had for months.

It had only just fallen cold enough to justify even thinking of lighting a fire. Even with a chill in the air, the effort and the cleaning involved precluded Noelle even considering using the old fixture.

Kris had been the last one to actually want a fire, she recalled. Months ago, during the truly early stages of their affair, he suggested that they burn a couple of logs. It’d be romantic to do it in front of a roaring fire, he’d pitched.

She had agreed with him on just one thing. The gesture would have been romantic.

That had led to a “fun” conversation. Not exactly the crown jewel in the year of “fun” conversations Noelle had had, but unforgettable nonetheless.

She tried to focus on pleasure, to rekindle what had been burning just minutes ago. But it had slipped away. In her mind, at least, she was as dry and cold as the old fireplace.

Kris was doing his best, for his part. His technique never quite matched hers, but the novelty of fingers she didn’t control attending to her down there usually carried him.

Not today, though.

Today all he could manage to do was keep her warm and damp and to stir up that smell.

That musky, powerful smell that she was supposed to call “feminine” but just couldn’t. The smell that was exciting in its own perverse way but was just kind of gross when her mind was clear.

Her neighbor prodded and sloshed and traced shapes she didn’t care to discern, but all he could accomplish was to bring that shameful smell to her nose.

She buried her face in the cushions to avoid it, but that just made it worse. To some degree the entire couch smelled of her indiscretions. Certain patches were fresher or stronger than others, but on the whole the thing reeked of aroused reindeer, like some exotic arctic cathouse. If any member of the Holiday clan ever set foot in the living room, she was sure her game would be up immediately.

The tired doe reminded herself to buy a spray bottle of that pleasant smelling bleach that was supposed to clean furniture.

She would have to freshen the couch up if her-

Her bottom lip nearly tore as a pair of buck teeth clenched down on it.

She would have to freshen the couch up when her father came home.

And when Dess came home for Christmas.

And when her mother stopped acting like the family home was a funeral parlor.

When all of that happened she would clean up after herself and none of them would ever know how she spent her weekends, or who with. They’d never know that asinine “he picks on you because he likes you” hypothesis they all subscribed to was right.

Glinting, polished nails dug against her knees, and every part of her face stung. As if her body wasn’t sodden enough, her eyes were trying to douse her too. She was grateful she had buried herself a moment ago.

She was not doing this, she told herself.

She had company over. The best company she was going to get.

He was trying his best. He was warm, and there, and not forcing anything, but being as rough as she liked.

She was having a good time. She was feeling good.

She was not going to have a breakdown in front of him just because her imagination was acting up.

She would have plenty of time to do this later today when the warmth faded and the smell remained and her alarm wailed and he was gone and she was alone again.

An inquisitive finger on her jaw brought the completely fine deer back to reality.

His hands had ceased their ministrations some unknown time ago. One had decided to wrap around her, and pull her closer to him. The other stroked what it could find of her face gently, asking in its own quiet way for her attention.

She hadn’t moaned in far too long, she realized. She hadn’t sobbed, either, and that felt like a victory. But even a boy as dense as Kris had to be able to see what state she was in.

He was waiting for an answer. And they didn’t have all day.

Noelle collected herself as best she could. She forced her breath to steady, and wiped her eyes into her own sin, for all the good that did to dry them.

With everything she had, every social grace and scrap of steely determination, she managed to hold on to a level voice as she told the both of them “I’m alright.”

He gave her time to ready the next volley of syllables.

“I’m fine, really,” she managed. She felt a distant sense of pride at how even she sounded. “You should keep going.”

She was on a roll with acting, this morning. At the rate she was going, she could comfortably fake an orgasm and send the boy on his way as if nothing had happened.

Kris said nothing in response, not that she’d expected him to. A predictable silence settled over the two of them, for a moment.

Silent except for the screech of a distant alarm.

After a few moments Kris shifted behind her, propping himself up on an elbow. He leaned over her, and for a moment she feared he was going to try and look at her miserable face.

He didn’t, though. He just sat there, looking at her. Or, she imagined he was. All she could see was darkness, from her place buried in the sofa.

She could picture him sitting there, with those little red flecks sparkling behind dreary brown curtains, staring at her. She couldn’t quite place what his face must look like. A mask of muted nothing was the safe bet. But it could just as easily be pity, or disgust, or maybe even lust. It must be one of those, surely.

The noise came first. A half strangled gasp slipped out of her throat. Not only had she not had to force it, she didn’t know where it came from.

The sensation struck her, next. Then the fear.

Something sharp was at her neck. Multiple sharp things were at her neck, pressing down into her.

(Chapter 4)

That miserable fight-or-flight response that had troubled her as long as she could remember petrified her now. It had chosen flight again, as always, and then left her unable to flee.

She was stiff as a board, tensed in an embrace with something warm, and four sharp little points were latched onto her throat.

Sharp, nubby little points. Accompanied by something hot. Teeth, she realized.

Those funny little triangle teeth that carnivores had that made them all look like vampires.

After a moment she registered that they weren’t pressed hard, either. They poked at her, but not nearly enough to break the skin or even hurt.

They clamped hard enough to scare her, though.

What the hell was he thinking?

She carefully, gingerly peeled her face from the cushion, and turned as much as the grip on her neck would allow.

Sure enough, a familiar brown mop greeted her.

The fearsome predator that had her at his mercy sat in usual silence, as if afraid to do anything while her neck was moving.

She truly did not understand him, sometimes.

Before she could ask what was going on, the mouth on her throat tightened its grip.

It still wasn’t even in the ballpark of danger, but her nervous system hadn’t gotten the memo.

Adrenaline surged and she tensed up again. She hated being like this. Kris was just messing with her like he had a thousand times, and yet her gullible body reacted as if she was in mortal peril.

She could chase the fear away, but the reflexive stiffness and the sensitivity to everything stayed.

She could feel every tuft of fur on her body. She was aware of every single breath she took, and of every red hot exhale blown against her jugular. She could even make out the beating of his heart, again.

And not much else, she realized. She mentally tried to grasp at something she wanted to say, but the sensation of danger stifled the thought. The hyper awareness of her body, and the one pinning her down, overwhelmed complex thought.

Waves of sweet, merciful nothing washed over her addled mind, dragging thoughts of her family and church and time and alarms out to sea. Her world was rapidly becoming just pointy little teeth and two bodies and something soft to lay on.

Four warm, soft finger pads found their way into her world, resting on her collarbone. She liked them. They seemed friendly as they traced a path downwards. They ghosted their way over her breast, but gently dug in their nails to feel at her ribs.

The warm, round nubs had quite a tingly head of steam by the time they reached the shaggy fur of her lower abdomen.

They prodded at the edge of her underwear, bringing to Noelle’s attention just how much of a burden the soggy things were becoming. Someone would have to do something about them.

A new friend joined the two of them on their little island: an arm, this time. It wormed its way between her and their nest, and hooked across her sternum. He pulled her tight against him.

She felt oddly secure for a prey animal caught in some meat eater’s jaws.

Warm, too. Embers that she thought were extinguished showed promising signs of life down there as the boy toyed with the band of her panties.

She gasped in earnest when the inquisitive limb jumped, abandoning her tummy to grasp at her thighs.

His firm hand parted her legs just a hair, before it reached over and tugged on her underwear. It was slow going at first, but when Noelle finally picked up where this was going she lifted her hips to help him out. The warm, wet garments practically flew off.

Finally, after an entire morning spent in the way, the cursed things returned to dangling around one of her ankles.

Kris wasn’t finished with her, though. The boy capitalized on the space he had made, slipping one of his own legs through the gap in hers. With his hook in, the boy brought his knee upright, taking her top leg with it.

The cool morning air did surprisingly little to kill the heat growing inside her, even as spread open and soaked as she was. Instinct bade her to close her legs, regardless, and she tried for about half a second.

Then she submitted to him.

He’d locked his knee in there firmly. Firmly enough that she probably couldn’t fight it even if she actually wanted to. Looked like she didn’t get a say in whether her legs were closed right now. The thought only made her grow hotter.

With one final parting nibble, Kris’ teeth released their hold on her neck. She’d grown fond of the sensation as she’d gotten used to it, but she wouldn’t begrudge Kris for giving it a rest. It had probably been a killer on his neck, ironically.

She didn’t have long to mourn. With his prize secured and his posture comfortable, the glaring predator behind her finally pounced.

Noelle failed to choke down a yelp as she felt the first contact.

A quick flick of warm fingers against her lips. And then another. Each brush lingered just a hair longer than the last, and pressed harder.

Something was smoldering inside her in earnest, now.

Each fleeting flash of contact earned the boy one in a series of ever more excited moans. He played her like some perverse harp, tugging and drawing and swiping and savoring the music she made.

Her head was swimming, again. Awash in warmth and pleasure and free of worry. Her greatest concern at the moment was when he’d tire of teasing and give her what she needed.

She shuddered as she felt a familiar sharpness on her ear.

He nibbled even more tenderly than he had on her neck, but the feeling of teeth on her ear maddened her.

She willed herself to loosen her neck, turning her head to give his mouth better access. He took full advantage, inching his teeth closer to her skull and earning himself a desperate mewl.

He nibbled his way down to the base of her floppy, twitching ear.

She heard him inhale. That was the last comprehensible sound she heard, for a while.

Steam surged over her mind, billowing in as though the sensitive cup on the side of her head were a vent to her brain.

Her mind processed nothing but the soothing rasp of the boy’s exhale, the wetness on his breath, and the numbing, stupefying warmth of it all.

She could only feel a low moan rumbling out her throat. The one it was intended for heard it just fine, though. She barely registered a sharp inhale before he drew her in and blew more of that sweet delirium into her.

Noelle floated on a sea of electric warmth. The breath in her head was making everything tingle, from the base of her antlers down to her hooves.

Instinctively, she tried to wiggle, to seek out more friction and pleasure from her environment. But she could only try. She was delightfully trapped in his grasp once again.

Her thighs were pried open, exposing her glistening sex for the whole world to see. Up north a strong arm pinned her torso tightly to his, not allowing her the leverage to even shift her weight. Even her head was trapped, she realized. She couldn’t just jerk her head when he was intermittently nipping at the base of her ear.

The best Noelle could manage was draping her free arm behind her, and resting a hand on Kris’ hip. After a moment, her sloshing mind even told her to give him a little pat.

She was singing her approval on all sorts of sloppy, ragged notes, but she wanted it to be clear that she appreciated what he was doing.

The pitch of her song lurched upwards when his fingers slid in.

She tried in vain to buck her hips, managing only to shudder against him, bidding him in deeper. He accepted the unwitting invitation.

In a flash, the teen nested his index and middle fingers inside her up to their second knuckle. The thick lather pouring from her lips did its job, easing him in with almost no resistance.

Her mind latched on to the feeling of fullness, and the satisfaction of finally being tended to.

“Yes,” she found the presence of mind to blurt out.

Yes, please. Yes, more. Yes, I want this. She hadn’t actually planned the end to that sentence. He’d probably get the message, though.

Get the message he did, it seemed. After a moment of adjustment, the boy’s fingers started moving.

They dug into her with purpose. They prodded around her entrance, making something like a beckoning motion. Reaching for something they knew was there.

It didn’t take the little seekers too long to find their prize. That strange, spongy spot halfway inside of her that always turned her into a gibbering wreck.

Noelle became a gibbering wreck as his fingers scrubbed against it. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth and her elated squeals echoed around the room.

She couldn’t take much of this. Even in normal circumstances she couldn’t endure him grinding against that spot, let alone when her body had been seeking a release after hours of teasing.

The tension in her belly wound itself impossibly tight, and her vocalizations rolled together into an excited slurry.

All too soon, the coils snapped. She arched her back as best she could, not even managing to put an inch between her and her suitor. Her inner walls clamped down on his fingers, clutching and tugging in an attempt to draw them in.

Her body stiffened again, not unlike how it did when she panicked. The wonderful lightning coursing through her right now was a far cry from the painful jolts of fear, though. And she was only hyper aware of her cooch and its occupants, not every fiber of her being.

Kris bit down onto her ear and rode the storm out with her. She felt him tracing something down there. Shapes. Tiny ones. Hearts, most likely.

All too quickly, she started to recover her thoughts. The head of fog on her mind had blown away, along with most of her energy. Something remained, though.

Kris’ now-clammy fingers eventually freed themselves, but she caught his wrist. She had no idea where the hell he thought he was going.

The heat inside her had barely dissipated at all. He wasn’t getting away that easily. She had needed this all morning and one was far from enough.

She guided his hand back onto her, and searched for the words to communicate what she wanted. She didn’t want to leave any ambiguity.

“More,” she eventually managed to rasp.

He understood.

Surprisingly spritely fingers brushed against her once again. In the afterglow of her climax, Noelle was incredibly sensitive.

Noise filled the air anew. Her enraptured squeaks were joined by lewd pops and smacks. In her sodden state the sloppy sounds were unavoidable. If anything they egged the both of them on.

The friction against her lips, as light as it was, teetered on the edge of pain. It was a rare day that she wanted to be touched after an orgasm.

Today was rare, though. Kris had run with taking the lead, and being rough with her. She almost couldn’t believe how well he’d been faring. It was as if he’d all of a sudden figured out what role he was supposed to be playing.

She swayed with him as much as he’d allow, begging him for more contact. He indulged her, dipping his fingers in, just a bit, parting her as he went.

She’d ended up half finished a few times, too, she recalled. All the stopping and starting without reaching a finish might explain why she felt so insatiable.

Something tapped on her chin. She peeked open an eye and saw that she was being offered a pair of fingers. His other hand must have gotten jealous that its sibling was getting all the attention today. Poor thing.

She took Kris up on his offer, drawing the digits into her mouth and suckling. Briefly, they sparred with her tongue, but they soon found themselves outmatched, at her mercy.

Her sucking brought neither of them any great pleasure, but it was a nice distraction. Lavishing Kris’ fingers with wet, loving attention gave her something to focus on, so it almost surprised her when his other hand found a new nook or angle to attack.

And it was nice to have something to do with her mouth. She would go hoarse if all she did was moan all morning.

Beyond that, though, it was exciting to be hooked on both ends. She was feeling less like a reindeer and more like the human’s plaything by the minute.

She stopped herself from biting down as something grazed her most sensitive spot.

Apparently the set of probing fingers had found another treasure.

In her agonizingly sensitive state, the stimulation was killer.

The boy tapped her again.

Noelle groaned against his fingers. The shock of the touch criss-crossed the line between pleasure and pain. Lightning surged through her with even the lightest contact, but it left soreness in its wake.

She contemplated stopping him, but Kris seemed to pick up on her dilemma. Had she sounded so obviously pained? He settled for circling the area around her precious nub.

That, she could accept. Submit to, even.

Perhaps the boy was a little quicker on the uptake than she gave him credit for. Or perhaps she had sounded pained enough that even he couldn’t miss it.

In any case, she was thrilled at the change of pace. The tantalizing phantom contact with her most sensitive spot was a thousand times more pleasurable than a real touch, in the shape she was in. She felt like she was melting as he found his confidence.

She sucked like a baby on the invaders in her mouth while their friends buzzed away between her legs.

The second peak approached much faster than the first had.

Noelle did an excellent job of not chomping off his fingers when it hit her. And he did an excellent job of coaxing her through it, with an ever faster, ever harder pressure circling her clit.

No, not circling. Noelle could swear she could feel every ridge on the boy’s fingerprint, so she knew without a shadow of a doubt what shape the boy was drawing down there.

Him and his hearts. Absolutely hopeless.

She wouldn’t complain. Hopeless or not, he was sure keeping her entertained.

He was missing his opportunity, though.

If he tried to kiss her now there wasn’t a chance in the world she’d stop him.

Kris was still fiddling with her, when the last dregs of orgasm number two slipped away. And it still felt nice, too. But something told her it wasn’t enough. Despite his best efforts, though, his fingers weren’t doing the trick.

The fiery, achey need inside of her was all but unfazed, even two climaxes in. They’d have to try a different approach.

When basic motor control was back in her grasp, the weary doe slid her hand off of his hip, landing lazily on what she was hoping to find.

Nailed it, she thought, as she grasped his cock.

Kris’ fingers ceased their heart drawing. Looked like she had his attention.

Now how should she communicate this?

She tapped their friend up against her bottom. That should do it.

She was far from a diplomat right now, and he was never quite a rocket scientist, but that gesture should have been unmistakable.
A quiet moment passed between them.

It might not have been unmistakable.

She’d have to be even more direct, then.

She unhooked herself from the fingers in her cheek, and caught a breath for good measure.

“Put it in,” she commanded, in her best authoritative tone.

“Please,” she remembered to add. An authoritative “please.”

As it so often did, his voice surprised her.

The thing, he raised. She should do the thing for him.

Please, the little negotiator added.

His pleading was less authoritative.

She had to ponder a moment about what “thing” he was referring to. The term was hardly specific. Context clues lined up in front of her after a moment, though.

Of course. He was asking for that thing. His favorite thing of all. The horribly degrading one.

He was lucky she kind of liked it too.

Noelle sighed. He had said please. And been on more than his best behavior this morning. And they were probably fine on time.

“Hang on,” she told him. “Let me catch my breath first.”

Kris happily obliged, sitting himself up and waiting patiently.

(Chapter 5)

She’d bet her bottom dollar that Kris' dopey grin was back.

She took in a few lungs worth of crisp morning air. Her scent was still thick, she realized, but it didn’t bother her at the moment. She could hardly get mad at the smell whose purpose was to shout “screw me” at anything with a nose when it was actually doing its job.

She tested a rarely used muscle, just to be sure. It seemed like it was working. She wondered if he saw.

No, she decided. If he had seen, he’d have grabbed it.

She realized it was a moot point, though. He was about to see it for sure, regardless.

With no ceremony, the sluggish track star rolled over and pushed herself up to her knees. Kris got in position towards the other end of the couch as she crawled over to the armrest.

She cast a quick glance over her shoulder just to confirm something, and smiled a little. If she were a betting doe, she’d have had two bottom dollars, right then.

She stretched for a moment, cracking her back and her surprisingly creaky shoulders. Not exactly sexy, just a practicality.

Kris didn’t seem to mind. He sat in his usual silence, no doubt beaming in anticipation of the show.

You are the most spoiled boy on the planet, she wanted to tell him. But she didn’t. She wasn’t sure if it would come out playful or like the truest thing she’d ever said.

When she couldn’t possibly get any more ready, Noelle began.

She braced an elbow on the cushion, right at the edge of the armrest. Springs groaned and she found herself sinking in an acceptable amount. Experience told her it was about enough to account for their height difference.

She found a stable place for both of her knees, spreading them a bit more than shoulder width apart. Her free hand snuck between her thighs and made a little cat’s paw over her cooch. It did little to make her feel more modest, but that wasn’t the point of the gesture.

With all the other steps completed, Noelle put the finishing touches on her lewd display, burying her head against the armrest and wiggling her exposed bottom high in the air.

Presenting for him. Presenting the white patch of downy fur that wrapped around her butt, and culminated in her sex. A heart shape, he had told her once. A fluffy white heart with a gooey pink center.

It must have made for quite a sight.

She wondered if it was strange that this still embarrassed her. She’d let him plunder her for months, now. They’d become acquainted with every inch of each other, and it didn’t feel strange to be naked around him. But something about doing this felt degrading.

She focused all her attention onto that distant muscle, wiggling that little tuft of a tail he loved so much, and inviting him over. He had better appreciate this, for how much work it took.

The audible hitching of breath behind her told her that he did. The couch groaned as the boy shifted his weight. No doubt he was seeking a better angle to inspect his prize.

It must be the primacy of it, Noelle concluded. The display felt debasing because she was following in the hoofprints of her distant, less sapient cousins. The future valedictorian was embarrassed because she was just imitating the mating ritual of a common deer.

When those dumb-

No, “dumb” was too harsh a word for something as sweet as a reindeer.

When those slow animals were lonely, they had to put on displays exactly like hers to try and earn some company. Lacking modern conveniences like cell phones and neighbor boys, they relied on their cute little butt-hearts and their frisky tails and their… smell to snag them a mate.

Thankfully the animalistic display wasn’t the only tool in her arsenal. She was blessed to be able to scare up a pair of arms to wrap around her without waggling her behind like a horny animal.

But she could stand to do it every once in a while. It was delightfully primitive. And if the spellbound, stuttering breath behind her was any indication, it worked on more than just simple stags.

She glanced back again and marveled at how red his cheeks were. She wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t the one being made to beg, here.

“Please,” she purred at him, savoring the way he seemed to inch closer to spontaneous combustion.

The boy reached a shaky hand out and fiddled with her tail, bobbing it in time with her own twitches. The sensation stirred something in her, but not nearly enough. She was ready to get this show on the road. He could play with that little puffball later.

She thrust her hips back a fraction of an inch, and unfurled the fingers guarding her sex.

The boy seemed mesmerized, now. He completely missed the tempo he’d built twiddling with his favorite toy, and the hue of his face seemed determined to match his eyes.

With just a shred of devilish mirth, she realized she could help get him there.

Verdant, perfect nails tugged on the air, beckoning the boy closer. There was no chance that his eyes were on hers at that moment, but she stared him down anyway.

“Please,” she cooed again, in a voice overladen with want. “Please, fuck me, already.”

No amount of depravity or debauchery could stop that word from sounding wrong as it escaped her lips.

Kris seemed to agree. It was all the coaxing he needed.

Weight suddenly shifted behind her, and in a flash a set of hands found her hips.

Even if she were just a common reindeer, Noelle imagined, with no shortage of sick pride, that she’d be a popular one.

Her fingers caught him as he approached, and guided him to her entrance. Finding the right angle from behind usually gave them trouble, and she didn’t feel like wasting time.

And neither did he.

The grip on her waist tightened, pulling her backwards to meet his hips.

He slid in remarkably easily. She was absolutely soaked for him, and he’d no doubt been penning up tension since they’d first laid on the couch who knows how long ago.

Both of them grunted when he’d settled himself up to the hilt. Hers was a bit louder.

She planted her other hand to steady herself when the boy pulled back the first time.

After only a few experimental thrusts, the boy found them a nice rhythm. Obscene wet slurps became the backbeat for their duet.

He groaned, and their bodies slapped, and she moaned, and the cycle repeated, each time a little faster. A little louder.

The song was eminently familiar to her, but this was as nice as it had sounded in ages.

She inched her knees further apart and found the right timing to push back against him. The fullness and the gooey friction were reaching deep already, lapping at the heat inside her, but he could always go deeper.

Her partner seemed to appreciate her efforts, digging his nails into her hips and letting his arms do some of her work for her.

She fit the boy like a glove. Even as he pressed in deeper, she felt like every fold of her insides laid as they did to better cling to Kris’ stiff cock. Whether it was coincidence, or aroused delusion, or genuine physical adaptation after months of rutting was lost on the doe. It didn’t really matter, in the end.

Her smell hung heavy in the air, mingled with his. She had to admit, her own musk matched well with Kris’ boyish fragrance. Despite her usual trepidation she found herself enjoying the mixture.

Cracks began to form on the dam in her belly.

As Kris rutted away, she felt her arm going wobbly. She dropped down onto her other elbow, raising her rump up even higher. Kris was starting to hit at an odd angle, but neither of them minded.

Her part of their lurid song became muffled as she bit down on the armrest. Half a mouth to the right of last night’s teethmarks, she noticed through her haze. One of these days she land it perfectly.

Their lewd sloshing grew ever louder, and even through the furniture in her teeth, her moans grew more urgent.

Kris followed the tempo shift perfectly, leveraging some seemingly endless source of stamina to keep time with it all.

Noelle prayed she didn’t bite through the upholstery when her climax finally struck. She was the one to break the rhythm this time, rumbling out a low moan as the flood of satisfaction washed through her.

Her insides clamped and churned and crashed around the member inside her, beckoning it to hurry up and reach its end, too.

It didn’t answer, though, pounding along as normal while she roiled.

Her knees went weak, but the firm grip on her waist kept her steady, kept her in position for him as he rutted her all the while.

Her orgasm lingered far longer than normal, either due to Kris’ continued attention or how miserably needy she’d been. Once again, it didn’t really matter to Noelle.

Kris was still plying himself as she entered the afterglow, though. Not that she minded. The post-climax sensitivity frayed her nerves a bit, but she faintly enjoyed it.

Kris seemed to be moving rather desperately now, though. Not with the kind of desperation that signaled he was getting close, though. The opposite kind of desperation.

Poor boy.

She usually won the test of endurance between the two of them; He would erupt inside a minute or two before she was due, and one of them had to coax her along with a hand.

That wasn’t the only way it played out. Semi-frequently she’d be the one to finish first, but on those nights the ripples of her climax usually sped the boy along.

Once in a blue moon they’d even finish at the exact same time, like in a lurid novel.

But it was a rare case that she finished far in advance of her partner.

It was, indeed, a rare morning though.

She sympathized with him, watching him try to hurry himself along.

There was something she could offer besides sympathy, she realized. One last trick that she could do without even spending much energy.

The deer peeled her face from its perch on the arm of the couch. She caught a nice, deep breath, and when she knew her voice was ready, she made his favorite sound.

His name.

She moaned it out lazily, drawing out the “i” and letting it fill the air for a moment.

For a moment he stopped, and looked over at her as if she was asking a question.

She had to bump up against him again before he got the hint. After a half second of realization, the boy resumed his thrusting.

Hopeless.

The cute kind of hopeless, sometimes.

They continued like that for a few moments. He gave her a thrust or two, and she cooed out encouragement in the form of his name. The extra attention seemed to work wonders on him.

Eventually, his pace picked up, and his breath grew ragged. Noelle spread herself for him one final time, rocking back into him and beckoning him as deep as he’d go. With one final thrust, he buried himself.

He cried out a sweet, not-so-manly squeal as it hit him. Searing magma poured into her in generous spurts. Gravity itself worked in favor of the pair, forcing the jets of seed into the deepest parts of her belly, deeper than either of them could ever reach normally.

She lost count of his pumps, but she knew they had been more numerous than normal. She wasn’t the only who’d built herself up to something large, it seemed.

He didn’t stay in for long, and she was grateful for it. Both of them were on jelly legs.

He collapsed backwards into a heap, slipping out of her and leaving them connected by a thin pearly strand. One that snapped as he fell, dangling from her like some loose thread.

She clapped her legs together to hold it all in, and flopped down onto her hip, spent.

What a morning that had been, she mused. A few false starts, and maybe not a storybook ending, Noelle couldn’t think of a better one they’d shared.

That insatiable, roaring fire inside had finally smoldered down to a pool of embers. A pool of sticky, gooey embers nestled up where she couldn’t reach.

Kris won another test of endurance that morning, mustering enough energy to sit up before she could even think about it.

He slid onto his belly, and crawled towards her. She let him pass through the gap between her legs and the back of the couch, and slid her arm out of his way in turn. Unceremoniously, the boy flopped onto her, letting his head rest on her shoulder.

Cheekbones and shoulder bones made a bad mix for relaxation. As he tried to make himself comfortable, Noelle summoned up enough of a dreg of strength to turn onto her back. The hand not caught under him reached over and guided his head over to the built in pillows on her chest.

He nuzzled in gratefully, as if he couldn’t have done that without her help.

Maybe he really couldn’t. She thought he had a pretty impressive gas tank, but he’d been going all out for most of the morning.

On her command, she realized, not quite feeling guilty. He’d really gone above and beyond what she’d expected when she told him he should err towards being too rough. That boy had some kind of supernatural knack for following directions.

Neither of them had the strength to go all out now, though. Every storm had an eye, and they were in it now. Nothing to do but recover.

For a few quiet, worriless moments, the prodigal daughter and the other son simply lay there, enjoying their afterglow.

(Epilogue)

Noelle’s world was small again. Growing, gradually, but still small.

Her sensitive ears - particularly so after all the nibbling, detected the quiet, content rumbles of male satisfaction on her chest.

Her little red button of a nose didn’t have to do much work to tell her the smell of sex lingered on still air. She made a note to crack a window later.

Later today. She turned the thought over in her mind. Weary eyes snapped open as she remembered her responsibilities. They probably hadn’t used up all their time, she knew. But they wouldn’t have time for anything else.

She could make out the strangled sound of her alarm, again. It might have been nice if that sound hadn’t come back to her so soon. Of course, she realized, for once it was sort of doing its job.

She certainly wasn’t going to fall asleep, now.

Her body truly wanted her to, though. She felt wonderfully toasty and warm this morning. Even as newly minted wet spots made themselves known on her neck, ear and cheeks, she couldn’t shake the heat. It was like she was snuggled up under covers.

Or laying in front of a crackling fire, perhaps.

Kris was the most obvious source of warmth. The boy’s seeping heat poured into her right side as he snuggled against her. The echoes of satisfaction still pinging in her nerves gave their own warmth, too. And the stuff in her belly certainly wasn’t hurting, either.

She was practically teeming with Kris’ genes, at that moment.

Teeming with genes from a species that wasn’t her own.

In the modern day, that sort of thing wasn’t so scandalous, of course. But it still felt a little extra dirty. It still kicked in a little extra heat.

Her pill, she suddenly thought. She would have to be one hundred percent certain to take her pill this morning. Not that she ever shirked the routine, but thoughts of cells and genes always reminded her.

That was another modern convenience she had over her distant relatives, she realized. When they wanted physical comfort, they had to end up having fawns at the end. What a raw deal.

No fawns, or humans, or satyrs - or whatever other strange fruit her and Kris’ interspecies coupling could produce, would be taking shape inside her any time soon.

Noelle was a responsible young woman, who always took her pills.

As well she ought to, for as miserable as they were to acquire.

She could still remember it, almost having to sneak into the very same hospital that-

No. No, she found the presence of mind to tell herself.

She derailed that maudlin train of thought before it could even leave the station.

She would not be doing that to herself twice in one morning.

The bottom line was, she was a good, responsible young woman. And she was allowed to enjoy herself however she wanted. Without thinking about what everyone she’d ever met would think of her.

And that was the end of it.

Noelle felt fully awake, now. Fully aware of the weight on her chest. And the morning chill. And the squawking of her alarm.

And the portly goat woman down the street, no doubt standing around in her Sunday best, tapping her foot as she waited on her delinquent son.

Noelle sighed. This situation wasn’t going to resolve itself, she realized. Once again, she would have to be responsible.

“Kris?” she asked, tapping the mop on her chest.

He grumbled an affirmative little grumble at her. That was good. He was already awake.

Now, she had to be diplomatic, here. She didn’t feel like being forceful after how nice the morning had been.

“That was good, Kris,” she told him. And it was the truth. “You’ve been really great this morning.”

He offered his thanks. Verbally, even.

Noelle was surprised. He sounded totally lucid down there, like he hadn’t even been dozing.

“No,” she countered. “Thank you. You tried a lot of different stuff. It was neat. I uh…” she trailed off for just a moment. “I really liked the biting.”

It wasn’t a lie, but it was a little embarrassing to say out loud. He had really done a number with his teeth, though. She wondered if biting her neck to clear her head was a stroke of luck on his part, or one of brilliance. Probably luck, if she had to bet. But still, it had been the right call.

Kris informed her that she was welcome. And, almost inaudibly, he added that he was glad she had a good time.

Yet another nearly rhetorical hit the air when she asked “Did you have a good time, too?”

He simply nodded.

Of course he had.

“I’m glad,” she told him. And she was glad. Glad, and running out of small talk.

“But Kris,” she began. “Don’t you think it’s getting kind of late in the morning? Maybe it’s time to-“

Did she actually want him to leave, he asked in a shockingly polished tone.

Noelle had to blink, and run his words back in her mind for a moment. There were several ways she could interpret that question. Almost all of them lead to the same answer, though.

“No,” she admitted. “No, I don’t, really. But, Kris, you have to.”

Why, he wondered aloud. Why was she always so insistent on sending him off alone in the mornings?

Something about his voice was off. Had he rehearsed this? She hoped not. This was sounding like the tip of some miserable iceberg that she did not want to crash into this morning.

But as he sat there, seemingly waiting for an answer, she realized she would have to.

Wonderful.

Noelle sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose. She’d have to actually get her response straight if she wanted to do it without things getting ugly. And even then they still might.

She tried to decide what part of his question annoyed her more.

The fact that he couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t let him squander the attention of his loving mother was certainly frustrating.

She wondered if he ever thought of what would happen if they tried their escapades in his living room instead of hers. If his head ever spun, as hers did, imagining how quickly his doting mother would catch them and probably send at least one of them off to meet The Angel in person.

No, he’d probably never even considered it, she knew. He had never compared their mothers in any capacity, never tried to touch on her perspective on why she insisted on sending him home to Toriel each morning.

It must just have been because she didn’t like him.

That probably wasn’t the worst half of the question, though. The worst was that sly little implication that he was the lonely one out of the two of them. That was almost worth a laugh.

The boy with the jolly fat father always trying to hang out with him was lonely. The kid who had never pretended to lock himself out of the house to catch a few words of his mother’s voice was lonely. The single student with seemingly exclusive social access to the person Noelle wished was on the couch with her was lonely.

The notion was absurd. It made her want to gag.

She had to stop, now. She couldn’t get like this.

Being bitter wasn’t going to change anything.

She knew it wasn’t Kris’ fault he was lucky. It was just the way the cards fell.

Maybe it was his fault he was ignorant of how lucky he was, but seething at him about it wouldn’t change anything.

It was just hard not to get annoyed when he tried to measure pathos against her.

She realized how silent she had been when his voice broke her reverie.

She should come with them, he offered. Join him, instead of sending him off by himself. So that he wouldn't be lonely.

He didn’t sound quite as confident as he had a moment ago. And he had put an odd emphasis on himself, at the end.

Noelle blinked the last of her miserable thoughts away. And then blinked again, thinking about his words. Had she heard him right?

“You want me to…” she paused one more time to try and straighten this out. “You want me to go to church with you and your mom?”

Yes, he told her, his voice growing a bit bolder. She should come to church. Toriel would be happy to have her along. And the rest of the congregation would be happy to see her, too.

Noelle didn’t doubt for a minute that Ms. Dreemurr would be ecstatic if she joined them for mass. She had always loved Noelle. It spoke volumes of her opinion of the young doe that she didn’t bat an eye when her remaining son spent the night for “tutoring” every weekend.

It also spoke of a quaint misunderstanding of just how much parental supervision the mayor provided, but that was a different issue entirely.

It wouldn’t be romantic or boyfriend-y at all, he recited. Since it was church, and his mother would be there.

She sat in silence.

It wouldn’t even really be fun, probably, he admitted. But it would be something. If she, you know, had nothing better to do.

Noelle added “salesman” onto the list of things Kris wasn’t. He did touch on something important at the end of his pitch, though. Noelle really didn’t have anything else to do that day.

Or, he went on, she could get all excited about being slutty by leaking his cum all over the pews. If that’s what she was into.

The floor greeted Noelle warmly, cradling the doe as the sheer cheek of the little jerk’s words blew her off of her own couch.

Jeez, she’d been found out, huh? Maybe he really wasn’t so slow on the uptake.

Noelle clenched her legs together as she lay, to make sure she didn’t leak cum all over the carpet. That’d just make her feel like a slob, not a whore.

Something else was leaking, though. And fast. Swelling up in her stomach and lungs and pealing its way out of her mouth.

Her hooves kicked wildly as she literally rolled on the floor, howling with laughter.

Bitterness and misery she wasn’t even aware she’d collected poured out along with the cackles, carried away on an avalanche of mirth.

When she’d gotten it all out, and her chest started to hurt, and she was half certain she’d woken the dead, she let her voice die down.

A few stray chuckles still escaped as she steadied herself, propping a hand on the edge of a cushion and rising to her knees.

Kris was smiling a poorly restrained little smile. Acting like he didn’t feel like a million bucks for her reducing her to that state with a stray joke. She was so convinced.

She settled down and caught her breath and thought for a minute, looking up at him.

What exactly did she have on the agenda today, she wondered, semi-seriously. Maybe vacuuming some of the crud off the carpet. Perhaps pouring some more fertilizer in the tree’s bowl. Maybe cracking a window to let their sex smell out.

She could clean her room and have the same debate again about throwing away her old antlers, or that heart shaped box of chalk gathering dust. She could probably go over an already-finished school project with Berdly, if she was feeling masochistic.

No, she decided. All of that was worse than being a big old whore in church. Or just going to church normally with Kris and Toriel.

But she felt compelled to check something, first.

She almost surprised herself when she reached up and grabbed his bangs. The boy instinctively tried to flip them back but she held them tight, pulling them away from his eyes.

At first all she saw was panic in those shiny crimson saucers. The panic of a hermit crab whose shell was taken away. The panic of a baby who’d lost its safety blanket.

She almost thought, for a minute, that he’d screw them shut, but he dodged the impulse. After the surprise wore off, other things flitted back into his gaze.

Still fear. Still surprise, she saw. But no entitlement. No miserable tortured sadness concocted to make her feel guilty. She recognized after a minute that he was searching, too. Hoping.

“What time do you think it is?” she wondered aloud. If he had magical time keeping powers, they’d come in handy now.

He told her to hang on, and pulled his phone out of the couch. He seemed a little grateful to have an excuse to break their gaze, as he looked over and reported it was 9:09.

That little rat. How long had he had that there? She wondered how many missed calls from a certain nanny goat he had racked up.

But it was no concern right now. 9:09 was a bit of a close shave but she’d make it.

Why the heck not?

She noticed the boy was looking at her again, with his shiny, red little hopeful eyes.

It was then that something unspeakably devilish flashed into her mind. Something so vile, so cruel, so evil, that immediately going to that boring old chapel would be the only chance she’d have to save her soul.

She needed motivation for this.

She searched, quickly, but came up blank.

She’d just have to go in raw, then.

Kris flinched slightly when her hand caught his cheek, holding his head in place.

She gave neither of them time to think before she leaned in, opening his jaw just a hair with her thumb. Their lips made a loose seal, but it was enough for her tongue to dart into his mouth, and trace on quick little heart against his.

She pulled back in a flash, before he could even process what had happened.

He was broken, she saw. His lips stayed there, half puckered, and his eyes looked like they’d doubled in size.

She wondered how his own medicine tasted.

Probably not so bad, she realized. When he petrified her it was usually out of fear for her little life. He was probably just trying to confirm whether that was real or not.

“Get dressed,” she told the statue of a boy, as if she’d done nothing at all. “I’m going to go get as presentable as I can. We’ll leave when I come back down.”

The malfunctioning teen managed to nod at her, barely. Noelle gathered her scattered garments, knowing full well that a set of eyes watched her every move. When she had all of her clothes, and her phone, she made her way back towards the couch, and the door to the kitchen.

She stopped, before she passed him one last time. He still looked like one of her distant relatives in headlights, but life was coming back to him.

“Kris,” she called, and she almost smiled when he looked over. “You should let your mom know I’m coming, too. Just to be polite.”

He nodded, and she stepped past him.

She allowed herself a little smile when she made it to the kitchen.

That big dopey grin of his was a lot cuter when she could see it in his eyes, too.

A list of things she’d need started to form in her mind as she made her way across the cool tiled floor.

A towel, to dry off her thihgs and her chest and her neck. A hairbrush, because she knew she was a frizzy mess. A fur comb, to smooth out the easily visible disturbances on her neck.

Tissues, to clean Kris out of her. As lewd as the idea of leaking in the middle of church was, Noelle did not feel like spending an hour next to the nicest woman in town and dribbling her son out all the while. That was an idea that was fun when she was horny and horrible when she wasn’t.

A pill, she remembered to add. She could not forget the pill that kept away possibly nightmarish crossbreed babies. Couldn’t forget that. Noelle made sure to grab one from the cabinet before she did anything else, actually, swallowing it with a gulp of sink water.

With that worry out of her mind, though, Noelle allowed optimism to settle in. Funny to think she was so excited to head to church of all places.

No, that wasn’t right. The church itself didn’t have much to do with how she was feeling. She would go, but not because she was feeling pious.

She heard Kris mumbling away in the other room, explaining things to his mother. Something clicked in her mind, then. The dull noise made a certain absence very conspicuous.

She strained an acute ear, listening for it, but found nothing. For the life of her, she couldn’t pick up the sound of her alarm.

She shrugged, and made her way to the stairs.

Maybe the miserable thing had given up the ghost, and drained its batteries with all that noise.

Maybe she just hadn’t noticed its cycle finishing for the day when her head was still in the clouds.

Or maybe someone had come for it, after all.