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Stories From The Resort:

The Grrlfriend Experience

By

Dissident Love

Copyright

April-June 2018

---

Part 7

Saturday, 9:54pm

"Come out, Bertie! Honestly, you act as if the last few hours never happened!"

From within the little black velour hut (goodness, Bertie thought, this island has a serious addiction to velour and velvet!) there was a rustle of motion. "This is a little different than the beach! Or the patio at La Castoro!"

"Exactly!" Natasha grinned, stretching hir arms overhead. One paw clutched a magnum of champagne, the other held two specially-constructed champagne flutes. A series of tiny black beads seemed to be built into the base of each stem, but otherwise looked to be perfectly serviceable crystal. "It's better!"

"It's better for YOU!" he whined in resignation. "You're... hot."

_ _

"You keep using that word," shi snickered. "I do not think it means what you think it means. Come on, Bee! I'm going to have to start drawing attention if this goes on much longer."

"I know, I know, I'm just... preparing..."

"This could be bad for my reputation, too. Did you ever think of that? 'Oh, that Natasha,' they'll say, 'can't even get a horny beaver into a pool of water. What's wrong with HIR?' And I'll have to just stay in my suite and eat ice cream and get fat and buy some kittens and-"

The side of the tiny black velour cabana swished back and Bertie somehow managed to storm meekly out of it. "OK, OK," he stage-whispered, "I get it, you don't need to make me feel like a heel."

The Emerald Lagoon was one of The Resort's finest private recreation terraces. Four crescent-shaped swimming pools nested against one another, waterfalls tumbling from the highest to the lowest. The upper pools were heated, and got progressively cooler as one descended. Palm trees and bamboo torches acted to provide warm, diffuse lighting, and seclude the pools from one another while still giving a sense of openness. A dozen smaller hot tubs dotted the landscape, although each one was easily spacious enough to hold a dozen people.

A dozen normal people, Bertie amended, seeing that some of the hot tubs were virtually full just with four, or three, or even TWO of the Resort's denizens in them. Just off to his right there was a heroically-proportioned beartaur that couldn't even get his entire barrel underwater, much to the delight of the pair of dainty hyenaladies leaning against his bulk. The ursine's stubby tail wiggled happily, putting Bernie in mind of a pennant flying above a castle, if the castle happened to be composed of four dark brown seedtanks the side of beanbag chairs.

And, of course, the Emerald Lagoon had strict rules against the wearing of clothing.

"See? You're fine," Natasha chirped, blissfully nude. Shi seemed to be perpetually engaged in some sort of muted dance, and had been since leaving La Castoro a half hour before. Hir hips swayed, hir knees flexed, and hir shoulders circumscribed endless figure eights in the air. The result of all this giddy soft-shoeing was that at no point did any of hir immense swells actually cease jiggling, and Bertie was wondering if it was possible to die of line hypnosis.

Bertie, who'd nearly had a hemorrhage by managing to be nude in front of one just person for the very first time that morning, was now naked around fifty or sixty (fifty four, he quickly counted), the least endowed of which was still someone he'd consider out of his own league. One paw stroked at the soft curve of his belly, which he was trying to suck in, even though Natasha was quite plainly comfortable with hir much more ample reserves of fat. "Fine," he said under his breath, eyes shifting and somehow trying to face away from everyone simultaneously.

"Bertie... no one cares. I mean... it's not even the important part, but can you IMAGINE how many naked bodies everyone here has seen? Like, in aggregate? You'd need one of YOUR supercomputers to count them all." Shi stepped closer, but hir ever-inflating endowments pillowed up against his legs even as shi reached out to grip his shoulder. Hir sheath bulged obscene at the middle now, as though it continued to fill with flesh beyond what it was ever designed to hold; the cuff thumped against his own arousal, and he stifled a squeak. "But even if they hadn't... it doesn't matter what they think. All right? This is you! This is your body. This is MY body. Those're all THEIR bodies. And they're just bodies! Right?"

There was a haphazard chorus of cheers and agreements, and an impossibly buxom skunkgirl who was floating by in the nearest crescent pool slapped a paw against the water, managing to spray Bertie's feet.

The beaver's shoulders slumped, and he laughed helplessly. "You're right," he nodded. "I mean, of course, you're right, but... habits of a lifetime? I believe we covered this earlier-"

"Habits, shmabbits. Jerome? On the count of three, I order you to throw him in if he doesn't get in on his own, all right? One... two..."

Bertie looked around, eyes wide, and spotted a towering, burly longhorn leaning against one of the many mahogany and bamboo structures that held towels, robes, drinks and refreshments. He was as naked as anyone else, except for the lanyard around his neck that clearly indicated he was an employee of The Resort. The shaggy steer grinned at Bertie knowingly, and flexed one arm with a ripple of fluff.

"You're not used to hearing the word 'no', are you?" Bertie groaned, sauntering to the edge of the pool with an exaggerated air of defeat.

"Oh, we hear it all the time, but it's usually more like, 'No, please, no more, too big, I can't take it, unf, unf, UNFF!!'"

Bertie's jaw dropped at Natasha's utterly shameless, and surprisingly pitch-perfect, recitation. Shi winked at him and wobbled towards the edge of the pool. Hir sac had filled out until there really was barely an inch between their undersides and the red brick patio, hir sheath so bloated that hir breasts rest heavily against its upper slopes. Shi was far larger than shi'd been that morning on the tarmac, but shi never seemed to move with any difficulty. If anything, since topping off their second bottle of wine at La Castore and then departing for the Resort, shi moved with a ballerina's lightness and grace.

Except when shi had to slip into the pool, which was just about as awkward an activity as Bertie had ever seen.

"Do you, uhm... need a hand-"

"I'M FINE!" Natasha snapped, trying a few different angles of attack, but each one would result in hir either tumbling forwards in a somersault, or tipping over onto hir backside. "I just... ok, I haven't been in the big pools in a while."

"The stairs are over there-"

"I can do it, I can do it! I... oof... ok, maybe I let myself get a little carried away tonight. It's all you, Busy Beaver, you and your wandering paws." Shi inched forwards until hir sac was looming rather dangerously over the water, and hir toes were curled up against the lip of the pool.

"Sure, blame me," he laughed, pleased to be submerged in the water and thoroughly enjoying the view. Staring up at hir from the low angle only magnified how magnificently shi'd swollen. "I just wanted to stay in where no-one could see me, but you were all 'Hey, who likes naked massages?' 'Who likes cuddling while we eat ice cream?' 'Who likes naked yoga?'"

"Fine, we just won't DO any of those things anymore!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Let's not go crazy here..."

Bertie floated backwards, watching awestruck as the vast raccoongrrl somehow sank to hir haunches. Hir sac dipped slowly into the water, displacing a tremendous volume of it and creating waves that lapped against the beaver's chest. Shi shifted hir weight to one foot, slipped hir other leg in, and managed a tiny hop that allowed hir to perch hir rump on the edge of the pool.

"HAH! VICTORY!" shi cried, raising hir arms once again. The champagne bottle and twin crystal flutes sparkled in the indirect recessed lighting. With one final heave, shi thrust hirself into the water, hir toes just barely able to touch bottom. When hir extremely buoyant bodyparts finally found their new equilibrium, hir muzzle was quite decidedly buried in hir own cleavage.

Bertie watched, thoroughly enamored, as shi rotated slowly like a tugboat until shi could spy him out of the corner of hir eye. "I get the feeling all that was for my benefit," he chuckled, swimming easily over to hir.

"Did you enjoy it?" shi asked, eyes wild and more than a little out of breath.

"Oh my heavens, yes."

"Then it was... worth it!" shi proclaimed, craning hir neck and planting a smooch on him. With hir maleness valiantly attempting to float to the surface, pushing hir breasts ever higher, shi seemed as though shi were attached to some wildly inefficient form of life preserver. "But I'm gonna need a big favor from you."

"Anything."

"Can you, uhm, like, hook one my arms and pull me? I really misjudged how all this was going to work."

Bertie's eyes widened, taking in the blush on the bountiful Natasha's cheeks. His own muzzle twitched, watching the way every breath caused hir bosom to rise, actually bumping hir cheek.

Hir eyes narrowed. "You watch it, Mister," shi said in a low growl. "Don't you dare-"

Bertie snorted. Bertie chortled. He passed 'guffawing' and was well on his way to outright belly-laughter when another splash of water cascaded across the pool and dashed against his face. He sputtered, still laughing, even with the poolwater in his nose. "I'm trying... not to..." he managed, watching the skunkgirl drift by again in the hazy distance, a petite slip of black fur doing the backstroke and dragging two mostly-submerged spheres the size of the Resort's smaller golf carts.

"Try harder," Natasha glowered, but there was mirth in hir eyes.

Eventually, when Bertie had himself down to a fairly regular, motor-like giggle, he hooked under the raccoongrrl's arms and slowly tugged hir to a secluded curve of the uppermost pool. Although he could still see many couples and triples all across the watered terrace, there was still a sense of seclusion. The crescent pools were long and narrow, the hot tubs were relatively far apart, and the entirety of the Emerald Lagoon set into a gentle slope: uphill and behind them was one of the smaller wings of the Resort, and far beyond the downhill retaining wall lay an inky expanse of jungle, and then the endless ocean. Warm mists hung just above the surface of the water, and with only his head protruding from the pool Bertie could convince himself that they were the only two furres in the whole world.

Except, of course, for the laughs and heavy breathing and the occasional moans that seemed somehow magnified.

"Better?" Bertie murmured into Natasha's ear, his broad back bumping up against the edge of the pool, and Natasha's softer, broader backside bumping up against him.

Shi swished hir head, flinging hir damp locks to one side, and grinned at him. Without hir glasses, which had fogged up the instant they reached the lagoon, Bertie was struck by how small and brilliant hir eyes were in the moonlight. "Much better," shi purred, doing something hidden with hir lower back and grinding hir rump against his groin. He twitched, feeling a momentary twinge of soreness down there as he sprang to almost painful arousal, and wondered if it was possible to actually sprain one's dick from over-stimulation. "Here, grab one."

Bertie's paw slipped forwards underneath hir arm, hir fur slick beneath the water, until his fingertips brushed against hir nipple. It swelled almost instantly, and the beaver wondered if perhaps he was coming around to the concept of larger ones; he'd always preferred to the smaller, cuter ones, if he had to be honest, but the sort of breasts he preferred typically came adorned with the considerably more proportional variety. "Mmmm?" he rumbled, nuzzling hir neck.

"That's... nice," Natasha breathed, breathing slowly and carefully. "But I meant... one of the champagne glasses..."

The amorous boi froze, and glanced up slightly to where his grrlfriend was still holding the crystal above the surface of the pool. "I... uh... knew that..." he managed, quickly taking one of the offered flutes, as well as the bottle of champagne. With Natasha's lilting laughter ringing in his ears, he fussed with the silly wire cage that kept the bottle corked, and with some doing managed to blast it off into the distance at a high angle. There was a smattering of applause and half-heard congratulations from the other patrons of the lagoon, which reminded Bertie that there was almost nowhere on Resort premises where one could be truly alone.

But, then again, he thought_... so what?_

"For you, my lady," he said grandly, pouring some into hir glass and only getting a little bit into the pool itself. "You know, you're going to give me some bad habits."

"Mmmm?" Natasha queried, watching as he poured his own.

"Well... I drink, uhm... and I'm very careful about this, no more than two drinks per night, and that's only if I'm at some sort of an event where I'm expected to. Thish... this one time I was at the release party for the ePod X, and oh my goodness, the drinks were just flowing, people just kept GIVING them to me, mostly champagne, and I had to keep handing them off to Honey, and he just kept handing them off to waiters, and I swear in some weird Brownian conflux they'd just end up back in my hands. But anyways, I stopped at two, which is probably where most people were at before they even GOT there, it was CRAZY, and Honey kept trying to tell me a third one wouldn't kill me, and wouldn't I like to dance with that nice lady from Foreign Marketing, and... and... uhm..."

Natasha just stared at him, lips moving silently. Eventually, shi said, "You know, I think that's the most you've said since you landed."

"Well, the point was, I don't drink, and here I've had three of those colorful things at La Castoro, and you kept ordering wine and some of it was REALLY good, and, uhm, it's cool if those show up on my bill, I don't know how billing works while I'm here, and then you got that gelato with the vodka in it while were DRIVING back up to the Resort, and now we have champagne, and I just want to be clear that I NEVER do thish. This."

Natasha manage to keep hir face straight, but hir bosom was jiggling like some of their desserts earlier in the night, sending ripples across the surface of the pool. Shi held up hir crystal, and Bertie dutifully reached forwards to clink his own against it. "Let's not call it a bad habit," shi mused, taking a hearty gulp of the bubbly. "Let's just call it... Island Bertie."

Bertie took a sip, and then a gulp, and then somehow his flute was empty. His throat tingled from the bubbles, but his tongue seemed strangely numb. "Island Bertie?" he asked, reaching for the bottle.

"Exactly. It's the standard model of the psychic apparatus, at least according to some schools. Sometimes there's three components, oh, thank you for the refill, there's three components, sometimes there's four, or five, but they all basically mean the SAME thing: there's the you the world sees, there's the you that decides what the world sees, and there's the you way in the back that wishes it could be in charge. We're going to call that busy little beaver way in the back there Island Bertie, and we are going to give him permission to come out and play." Shi took a tiny sip of hir drink and leaned back against Bertie's body, parting hir legs to allow more of hir ponderous sac to squeeze through and press up against him. "How does that sound?"

Bertie was halfway through draining his second glass when hir words filtered through the boozy haze, and he began to nod slowly. "I... guess," he said, suddenly nervous. "Uhm... how do you know there's an-"

"You're here, silly," shi grinned, rolling hir head back to rest against his shoulder, tiny teeth nipping at his ear. "You, some tiny part in the back of your brain, booked a vacation here, to_this Resort_, and specifically for the Grrlfriend Experience. Those are the actions of someone who has been sitting on a lot of.. uhm... let's just say 'urges'." Shi punctuated this statement by slipping a paw between them and squeezing him in an extremely intimate manner.

He stiffened, in several ways. "Y-yes," he agreed.

"Then we're going to call those urges Island Bertie, and we are going to give him permission to come out. How does that sound?"

Bertie's free arm crept around hir until he was cradling hir other breast, tugging hir closer against him. Shi continued to flex and squeeze hir rump against him in the most incredible ways, but the higher parts of his brain, the parts that normally tried to tune out Island Bertie, were busy. "That sounds good," he nodded, shivering as shi brought him to the cusp of climax, and then backed off again. He had lost count of how many times shi'd done that to him in the single day they'd known eachother. "But I... just have one question."

"I knew you would," shi chuckled, nosing his cheek. "Big Boss Bertie can't ever give up without a fight. Shoot."

"What do you do when you're not working for the Resort?"

Natasha jerked as though shi'd been shocked. The beaver's paddle-like tail sprang into motion, stabilizing the pair of them before the raccoon could drift away from the sudden impetus. "I did not expect to hear that out of you! At least not tonight. You're more alcohol-resistant than I'd thought..."

"Sorry, you don't need to answer, I just thought-"

"No no no, it's fine, we already talked about you asking questions-"

"Are you trying to get me drunk so I shut up-"

"Absolutely NOT, I'm trying to get you drunk so you talk MORE-"

"Wrong question, though, I get it, no worries, really, I just-"

"I'm a psychotherapist," Natasha interrupted, before they could talk themselves into another loop.

Bertie froze, pinned once more between a raccoon and a hard place. "O-oh," he said. He stared at his champagne as though it were a trap, desperately wanting to take the final sip but suddenly and acutely worried that shi might read something into it. "That's, uhm... that's cool."

Natasha sighed and rolled hir eyes. "Darnit."

"What?"

"You're just one of those types that's too smart to not be stupid about this." Significantly far less concerned about the opinions of others at the moment, Natasha tilted back hir champagne and downed it in one go, tossing the crystal over hir shoulder into a patch of wildflowers. Jerome emerged out of the darkness and retrieved it. "No offense."

"None... taken?"

Shi wriggled in his arms, reminding him that shi was a VASTLY more woman than he was used to, until shi was floating side-saddle against him. Hir sac pinned one of his legs from hip to toes, and one breast nearly engulfed his arm. "That's what I went to university for, and that's what I wanted to do with my life," shi said, not sounding as though shi'd touched a drop of alcohol the entire night. "I wanted to help people, but there were so many ways to do that. Going to university here, I realized that the world is full of people who, frankly... won't allow themselves to be happy. They put up their own walls, their own barriers, their own limitations, and they reinforce all of that with the rules that they think keep the world together, that keep the world making sense. And it's all... so... fucking... STUPID."

Bertie nodded. "PhD?"

"Two, actually," shi blushed. "But that's for another time. So... I stayed here, to work. And I threw myself into it. I was in paradise, I told myself, there was no way I wasn't living my best possible life. My apartment overlooked the beach, I had a whole closet that was JUST for sexy underwear, I was living the dream that young me used to fantasize about while drifting off to sleep in a crappy two-bedroom double-wide out by Queensway."

"Hey, I know where that is-"

"And five years on, do you know what I realized?"

Bertie frowned, and pondered. Big Boss Bertie was feeling sluggish, while Island Bertie had steered a small, brown paw to wiggle against Natasha's sheath. "Uhm... you realized... oh, no, you didn't!"

"I had become... so... fucking... STUPID!" shi cackled, throwing back hir head and laughing into the night sky. "I wasn't dating, not really. Some of the gals in the offices on my floor, they'd set me up with friends of theirs. Sometimes a tourist would buy me a drink, or sometimes I'd just be in the right place at the right time to bat my eyelashes at a stranger, and we'd go blow off a little steam. But... I was busy. Seventy, eighty, hundred hour weeks. I had a career. I was helping people!"

"And you were... lonely."

Natasha nodded. "Lonely, and still living my life the New Cal way. Dress professional. Don't be flashy. Keep a well-stocked pantry, save fifteen percent. Sensible car, only two coffees. I brought all my old hang-ups to the place that I'd chosen specifically because I had hang-ups that I wanted to leave behind."

_ _

Bertie chuckled and nodded, slipping both of his paws beneath hir breasts to cling to hir soft belly. "I feel like you're trying to use your mind-science on me, Doctor Kawa."

"Oh, hells naw! I'm on vacation!" shi leered, grinding hir rump back against him. "Island Natasha is a sporty, fun-loving, scantily-clad smooshy-smoosh beach babe. Shi comes out every two or three months for about a week, grabs a suite and a temporary contract at The Resort. Business Natasha isn't home right now."

"Mmmm. Island Bertie likes Island Natasha."

"Island Natasha likes you," shi replied, giving him another quick kiss before facing away from him and relaxing hir heavy body against his torso once more. "And we're still only on day one. You haven't even_begun_ to experience me when I properly loosen up."

At this, Island Bertie was reduced once more to Jaw Moving Silently While His Eyes Bug Out Bertie. Island Natasha murred and smiled to hirself, reaching back and giving his butt a squeeze. Shi was going to enjoy this vacation.

For many long minutes the new couple remained in this position, Bertie somehow managing to be the big spoon, Natasha gently angling away from him as shi found hir natural buoyant equilibrium. Hir breasts rose higher and higher against hir muzzle, preventing hir from watching hir sheath and the barest hint of hir sac emerging from the water like fuzzy whales. The water was pleasantly warm, the mists wreathing their heads scented with a million fragrances that Bertie couldn't place and Natasha had stoppede even trying to. The skunk drifted by two more times, absolutely dwarfed by a bustline that must have left her all but incapacitated on dry land.

Bertie shifted his paws, tugging hir closer, enjoying the way hir plump tummy jiggled against him. Normally, when his security-scouring software busily erased any and all evidence of his online activities, he tended to enjoy the petite, dainty, even elfin hyper-herms. The size discrepancy was in its own way just as alluring as the sheer, unbridled dimensions of their... of their...

He blushed. Even thinking in terms like that made him uncomfortable.

But in his day-to-day life, going as far back as those first muddled, pink-tinged memories of elementary school, he found that the real flesh-and-blood folk he found most appearing were those labelled plump, or chubby, or rotund, or even fat. It would be a few more years before he discovered the term 'BBW'.

Natasha inhaled, stifling a yawn, and Bertie's arms seemed to fill with more and more of hir. He rumbled appreciatively, and in a move that surprised not just himself, but one of Ilsa Calamata's most talented and well-known psychotherapists, he rolled his own hips against hirs, reminding hir that he was still exceedingly aroused. "I'm not putting you to sleep, am I?" he whispered against hir ear.

"No, no, the... the champagne's doing that," shi giggled, hiccuping. Hir tail swished against his legs, hir gifted and talented backside resuming its rhythmic massage of his nethers. "And it's not sleepy, exactly, it's... oh, gods, some of these neck muscles haven't loosened up in WEEKS. Why do you think I've been so intent on hot showers and massages and reclining couches and yoga all day?"

"Uhm... I just thought that was what island people did all day."

"What, without our phones?" shi asked archly.

"Yeah, I mean... your lives are so EMPTY without Candy Kingdom and Facespace and Instasnap and... and... and that all seems really dull when I can do this," he said, giving hir another squeeze. Shi repaid his affection in kind, and his whole body jerked. "I didn't even know that was a thing you could DO with... that."

Natasha wiggled hir rump against him. "Oh, sweetie, you've got a lot to learn about what these can do."

"I... is... uhm..." His brow furrowed, and he could feel his blush in his teeth. "Is that a promise?"

Shi laughed, arching hir back. "Most definitely. In fact, I think your first lesson will be-"

The rest of hir sentence was cut off by a sudden cry in the darkness. It was a long, warbling, wailing cry, and carried on for so long that Bertie began to grow worried. Eventually it grew hoarse and ragged, trailing off into a hitching that almost sounded... amused.

"Uhm... what the hell?" Bertie asked softly, craning his neck to see through the mists.

Natasha just grinned knowingly. "That is something that's against the rules in the Emerald Lagoon," shi snorted, kicking hir legs feebly and trying to right hirself enough to also see. "But, I just hope we're on the right side. Do you know where it came from?"

"I think it came from one of the hot tubs, uhm, down there-" The sound returned, this time more of an ecstatic scream. Far from carrying on too long, this was just the first of many, slowly descending into a steady beat of throaty, lustful moans. Bertie's eyes bulged out. "Is... is that... are they..."

_ _

"Doing something highly unsanitary in the hot tub? Yes." Shi didn't sound nonplussed, however. If anything, shi was even more interested in orienting hirself to get a good view. "And that is a sound that I... uhm... am familiar with."

"You know her?"

"Hmm? Oh, no, not at all. But that's the sound of someone experiencing something... new."

There were ripples of laughter and cheering from the far reached of the Emerald Lagoon, and even some applause. The intimate sounds of sex were accompanied by the sloshing of a hot tub that had not been designed for this sort of vigorous exercise, and unless Natasha missed hir guess, also hadn't been designed for a hyper's post-arousal anatomy. "N-new?" Bertie stammered, trying to put some visuals to what his ears were picking up. He'd seen hundreds of hours of high-definition premium-tier hyper-herm content online, but there was a different tonal quality to actually being there.

_ _

"Mmm hmm. A person's first time with one of our... uhm... residents, can be a very intense experience. Spiritual, you might say."

"OOOHHH FUUUUCK!" cried the mystery woman.

"Yes, that's intensely spiritual," Bertie deadpanned, his eyes somehow growing wider.

"Shh, shh, shh, don't worry. Don't try this at home. We're experts," Natasha chortled, managing to shift sideways against the stocky beaver once more, gripping the base of his tail to steady hirself.

It sounded as though the Resort guest was still trying to swear, or make other recognizeable words, but all she managed were gasps and grunts and groans, tinged with disbelief. Bertie wanted to ask if those were the sorts of sounds he might be making in the future, but he found he rather enjoyed the uncertainty. Plus, he worried it might kill the mood.

"You might be making some of those sounds tonight," the raccoongrrl growled into his ear, slipping hir paw down further.

Oh, thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you...

_ _

The woman's cries became deeper still, the silences between them more pronounced. This was accompanied by even more cheering from the other pool patrons, and a dramatic eyeroll from Natasha. "Oh, this is just going to encourage them," shi sighed. "We have rules for a reason!"

"Is that Business Natasha talking, or Island Natasha?"

"Island Natasha still happens to think that SOME things should be done without an audience," shi said under hir breath. "But... hey, when in Ilsa Calamata, right?"

"Uhh.... ahhh... aahhh! Aaahh!! AAAHHH!!! AAAAHHHH!!!"

_ _

Bertie's tail stiffened, along with all the rest of his body parts that were capable of such a feat. His little ears flattened against his skull, and he actually slipped an inch deeper into the water. The screeches of ecstasy shattering the placid night air were an order of magnitude more carnal, more feral, than anything he'd downloaded from Mistress Phrase's Emporium. "Is... is she-"

"Yes," Natasha nodded, wetting hir lips. "Oh, so, SO yes."

The last howl was cut off mid-breath. Bertie's ears strained to pick up any sounds, any indication that the mysterious lovers were all right, but the lagoon had become eerily still.

That was, until it sounded like an entire bathtub had been upended on the red rock paving stones not twenty feet from where beaver and raccoon huddled close to the edge of their pool. More cheers and applause went up from the patrons, whom Bertie assumed to have a much better view than he did. "What-"

"Water displacement," Natasha whispered into his ear, practically vibrating. "The hot tubs only have so much room."

There was another tidal gush of water, and another, and another. The cheering had become a chant, though no-one could seem to agree on the mantra to be repeated. Some were going with "Yeah, yeah, yeah," some with "Go, go, go," and still others with "Bigger, bigger, bigger!"

Bertie figured out why, when a vast white shape rose out of the mists, closer than he would have guessed. It was white, and at first he'd assumed it to be smooth, but as it swelled he could make out that it had an indistinct, fuzzy border. The hot tub in question was located near a thin hedge of palm trees and bamboo torches, and within moments the top of the snowy sphere was more than halfway up the striated tree trunks.

With a rumble and a surge, it expanded violently. The chanting and the cheering grew louder to match.

"What... what is... how-"

"I think fox, from the coloring," Natasha purred. "See, you can just see a little bit of red around the fringes."

Bertie followed hir pointing finger, and sure enough the damp, fuzzy sphere did indeed seem to have some fox-like coloring near where it appeared to merge with the edge of the hot tub, which was now completely empty of water. "That... has to be uncomfortable," he stammered, trying not to stare, or drool, or faint.

"Tourists," Natasha sighed, clucking hir tongue. "You'll learn, Bertie dear."

As the impromptu peep show neared its conclusion, the ever-expanding fox-colored orb began to resemble a muffin that had vastly exceeded the size of its baking tin. The hot tubs were large, Bertie knew, very large, but it was struggling to hold just a fraction of the lower portion of that lucky guest. When the sounds of panting returned, exhausted and relieved, the overhanging leaves of the palm trees were tickling the colosally-overfilled belly on all sides.

Natasha sank back into the water, grinning foolishly. Shi wrapped hir arms around Bertie's midsection, tugging him away from the edge of the pool. "There there, loverboi," shi smiled. "Show's over."

"That... that... that just... she..."

"Mmm hmmm, and if she's in this lagoon with us, it means she's a probably a long-term guest, which means she's going to get to do that again tomorrow. And the next day. And, if she's especially springy, maybe twice the day after."

Bertie had been feeling more and more confident as the night wore on, the cocktails and wine and champagne providing a nice, bubbly layer of support. Watching the all-too public display of hyper affection (that was also surprisingly G-rated, cursing aside) had reminded him of the likely conclusion to their first date. Twenty years of quiet anxiety came rushing back in on him like a controlled demolition.

Natasha was trying to pull the catatonic beaver around to hir front, relishing the many, many ways that was physically impossible. Hir arms tugged him closer, the back curve of one overfilled teste rubbing vigorously against his legs, one breast pillowing against his chest and bumping against his chin. "Get an eyeful, hon?" shi murred, nuzzling his cheek.

He nodded, face tingling, extremities numb. "Uh huh."

Natasha's head popped up, hir nose against his, staring into his eyes. "That was too much for your first night, wasn't it?" shi said, sounding saddened and resigned. "Ah, I knew it. I'm sorry. I was rushing things, I'm REALLY bad for that. Island Natasha just tries to make up for lost time a little too fast."

In the thinning mists, nude patrons were appearing by ones and twos from the other private pools. They were laughing and joking, gathering around the fox's phenomenally over-inflated belly. Some were rubbing it curiously, others were taking selfies with the creamy white orb in the background. Around the far side of the wobbling, sloshing sphere, Bertie could hear congratulations being offered to both the lover and the lovee.

The hyper-raccoon leaned hir head forwards, thumping hir brow against the nape of Bertie's throat. "I'll tone it down a little bit," shi purred, slipping hir paws down to the small of his back. "Island Bertie can take his time. How does that sound?"

Bertie glanced back at the fox-filled hot tub, then down at the impossibly plush armful of hypergrrl clinging to him.

"I... think..." he said slowly, replaying Natasha's speeches over and over in his mind. "That... you never got around... to telling me what my first lesson was going to be."

Natasha's breath caught, and shi rose out of the water once more, nose to nose. "Pardon?"

"You were saying that I had a lot to learn, and that my first lesson was going to be... well, something, but then we got interrupted." His stubby muzzle split in a grin, his paws diving further beneath the water to enjoy a double-handful of hir rump. "You've been most educational, Doctor Kawa, but I feel I could stand to learn a little more."

Doctor Natasha Kawa, MD, PhD, bared hir tiny teeth in a smile that was worryingly predatory.

Part 8

Saturday, 11:01pm

The oversized door to Bertie's suite rattled in its frame, local mangrove blanks with burnished bronze casings flexing under the sudden impact from the corridor. There were grunts and gasps of effort, and a series of smaller thumps and bumps underscored by the ceaseless creaking as some monstrous force made its way from one side of the door to the other, inching close and closer to the handle.

There was a tiny cry of victory and the autolock mechanism blinked from red to green. The door clicked and was flung open with terrific velocity, sending a small, stocky beaver tumbling backwards into the luxurious suite, followed a moment later by a considerably larger shape...

... that promptly got stuck.

"Oh, bother," Natasha sighed, planting hir dainty little footpaws and shifting hir hips. With a sound rather like a king-sized mattress falling over, shi shoved one badly overfilled teste through the doorway, which was ever so slightly too small to fit both of them through side-by-side. Stepping through at an angle, shi waddled into the entryway, pausing only to swish hir tail behind hir and shove the door closed once again.

Bertie, sprawled out on one the suite's many thick rugs, just scooted backwards as shi approached, rather enjoying the view from this angle. "You got stuck," he said breathlessly. "You got stuck in the door."

"It happens!" shi snapped defensively. "Who says it doesn't?"

"It's a very big door."

"It's not that big. There's bigger ones downstairs."

"Where?"

Natasha frowned, tapping hir fingers together above hir capacious bosom. "The... parking garage?"

"Well, we'll have to try those ones out later," Bertie said diplomatically. "In the mean time, I'll just have to resign myself with being even more smitten with you than I was before. Which is really saying something. My levels of smittenness are very high."

"That's not a word," the raccoongrrl giggled, sashaying forwards until hir sac began to overwhelm and then engulf Bertie's feet.

"Are you kiddidding? I can call someone right now and get it added to dictionary-dot-com. Watch me. Wanna watch me?"

"No, I have... other ideas about how you can impress me," shi purred, now pinning him from the knees down. Hir sheath protruded some distance beyond hir meter-wide balls, itself so overstuffed it had firmed up harder than any of Bertie's muscles. This caused him some distress, and he made a mental note to hit the gym more often. If he survived the next few hours, that was.

"Do..." he squeaked, pausing to swallow nervously. "... you?"

"I do," shi huffed. Bertie was forced to assume that shi was leering, or otherwise making some sexy sort of expression; from his angle, he couldn't see much beyond the upper crests of hir sac, the lower curve of hir breasts, and a sheath that was giving him some serious anxious envy. "I hope I haven't... incapacitated you?"

He wriggled his toes, eliciting some high-pitched laughter from his grrlfriend. "S-s-sort of," he said, finding himself smiling easily, despite the unfamiliar territory of the situation.

With an audible inhalation and a grunt of effort, the weight was removed from his legs. Spinning slowly, and giving the impression of phenomenal weight held in balance by the faintest of margins, Natasha leaned back and aimed hirself towards the bedroom. "As much as I'd love to just give you the smooshing treatment," shi said in a lecture-hall tone, "I think we'd be better off if we got somewhere... softer."

Bertie, just as naked as his companion for the week, could only stare as Natasha swayed unsteadily across the immense living room. Moonlight dripped through the high floor-to-ceiling windows and played across hir fur, rippling with every bounce and slosh of hir fantastically reactive body. Watching hir move away from him, he was awestruck by how small hir figure seemed from the back; hir torso, hir slender waist, even hir exceedingly plump bottom. Shi would have been thought to have an exceptionally full backside anywhere else in the world, but framed against the moon-dappled silhouette of hir sac and hir bust, shi seemed positively waifish.

Hir tail twitched, beckoning him with come-hither motions.

He didn't need to be told twice.

"Eek!" Natasha squealed when Bertie's paws landed gently on hir hips. "You move like one of those waiters!"

"Sneaky-sneaky," Bertie agreed, lacing his fingers together in front of Natasha's warm and heavenly-soft tummy, and burying his muzzle against the back of hir neck. Hir tail swished out of the way, and he pressed himself eagerly against hir body from behind, leaping once again to an almost painful level of arousal. The weight of hir breasts against his arms was tremendous, and he was struck by an idea. "What... is the 'smooshing treatment'?"

Natasha laughed, angling the pair of them to fit through the bedroom doors. "Oh, it's quite popular with some of our guests. Not everyone here is into such, uhm... dramatic forms of intimacy. A great many of them just enjoy long walks, and hand-holding, and cuddles, and, well... being pinned by a generous and giving hyper."

"Mmm. Sounds a bit like those massages on the beach..."

"Hah! No, not quite so targeted. But perhaps a good deal more immobilizing, depending on who's doing the smooshing. The more popular ones are obviously the ones who can really grow."

"Like... you?" Bertie hazarded, dipping his fingertips a little lower to tickle the base of hir sheath. His breath caught; bloody heck, he thought, it feels like someone wrapped a truck tire in velvet!

"Me?" shi asked, slightly shocked. "Oh, goodness no! It took me all day to get this big. No, they often prefer the gals, or bois, or whatever, who can do this in an hour. Or less..."

The rest of the thought hung unspoken in the air, leaving Bertie awestruck once again. He knew there were hypers that possessed an exceedingly rapid hormonal response, sometimes dangerously so. There had been one on his flight to Ilsa Calamata, and although shi hadn't seemed very 'impressive', if he could use the term bluntly, in hir well-filled khaki shorts and flowered blouse, shi had apparently been sedated for the trip, just in case. The in-flight safety speech had included a few lines about hir, but most everyone just nodded sympathetically and paid it no more heed.

"You're thinking about someone else," Natasha rumbled, tapping his paws with hir own.

"No! I... well, ok, yes," he admitted, not wanting to be the sort of guy who lied while literally on the way to bed with a wonderful woman in his arms, "but it was purely in a theoretical sense."

"Theoretical."

"Just... going over the potentialities of someone who had that sort of, er, hair trigger, you might say. It's certainly interesting! But, I mean... there's interesting theories, and then there's the limitless wonders of the realities that lie within our reach..." He punctuated his almost-poetic thought by giving hir midsection another squeeze.

Natasha chuckled again, shaking hir head. "You _are_drunk."

"Oh my goodness, yes," he agreed, stifling a hiccup. "Do you know where we're going? I didn't even turn the lights on..."

As if on cue, Natasha swung hir tremendous figure around, dragging Bertie along as though he weighed nothing at all. He threw out a leg to balance himself, but he struck something soft and resilient about knee-height that completely wrecked whatever equilibrium he'd managed to recover. He tumbled once again, landing on his back on the great memory-foam expanse that was his suite's circular bed.

"Nope," Natasha snickered. "Not a clue."

"You could have warned me-eeeep!"

Again surprising him with hir lightness of feet, and then immediately afterwards with hir density of flesh, Natasha twirled like a ballerina and landed on him like a ton of feathers. "Wheeeeee!" shi laughed, bouncing and sloshing. "It's like a waterbed!"

"Mmmff!"

"Hmmm, sweetie?"

"Mmmff!"

Swinging one leg out and somehow managing to overbalance atop hir swollen spheres, Natasha rolled to the side and ended up on hir back next to Bertie. Shi reached out and managed to squeeze his paw, using hir other arm to brace against hir breasts and keep them from smothering hir face. "Sorry, sweetie, I got a little carried away. You were saying?"

Bertie's jaw worked silently, his legs spasming. Even as a tech billionaire in his own heyday, he wasn't unfamiliar with the experience of a long download finally hitting 99%, and then crashing... and that was what his endocrine system was currently experiencing. Little bolts of electricity grounded themselves deep in his pelvis, his dick bucking like a little bronco, before settling down. He hesitated on the edge and then melted into the satin sheets, squeezing hir paw back. "S-sorry," he said shakily. "I... just... almost finished early, there."

"Sorry?" Natasha grinned challengingly, licking hir lips. "I can try again if you want!"

"Nnn! Nnn! Nnn...not yet," he eventually choked out around his own laughter. "I just... I just think I figured out why the smooshing is so popular."

"Oooo, then we're going to add that to the week's schedule!" shi chirped brightly. "What do you think... Wednesday? We can get me all jacked up on shellfish and see if you can find my sweet spot, get me growing like those other grrls."

Bertie nodded and squeaked. This was miles more 'dirty talk' than he was used to, which would have amused the raccoongrrl to no end; this was quite tame as far as Island Natasha was concerned. "W-wednesday it is."

"Or maybe I'll surprise you," shi continued, inching hir way closer on hir back. Hir sheath swooped back and forth above hir like a ridiculously stout flagpole in a high wind. "Sneak up on you. Maybe wake you up that way. Don't want to make this week TOO predictable! Scheduled... regimented... It's not good for you, you know."

"The worst," he mumbled, watching hir anatomy loom dangerously above them.

Natasha followed his eyes in the dim light filtering through the bedroom's windows. "How's your night going, hun?" shi whispered, having scooched close enough that they were nearly nose-to-nose.

"Amazing?"

"Amazing, question mark?" Natasha smiled. "You're not sure?"

"No no! Definitely sure! I just meant it like... how else do you think I'd be responding?"

Shi shrugged, sending more ripples through the fuzzy wall of breastflesh threatening to overwhelm hir muzzle. "I dunno. Maybe you're overstimulated and need another nap."

"I'm woozy, not dead," the burly little beaver chuckled. In a heroic moment of initiative-taking, he rolled onto his side and wriggled himself the rest of the way towards his grrlfriend. He slipped one arm beneath hir head, cradling hir shoulders in what he hoped was a chivalrous gesture, even as his other arm reached up to rest in the warm, throbbing valley between hir bosom and hir ceaselessly-twitching maleness. "Besides, I'm used to late nights, you know? Pulling all-nighters..."

"What a coincidence," Natasha deadpanned. "So am I."

"... eep?"

"Eep, indeed."

There was a soft, straining creak from the hyper-grrl's loins. Bertie's eyes snapped up instantly, while Natasha struggled to keep hir own gaze locked on hir lover's face. Shi didn't need to see what was about to happen, but shi dearly wanted to enjoy his reactions.

Bertie's imagination had served him well through the last decade, allowing him to keep his focus on his schooling, his business, his career. A few minutes alone every couple of days, a few surreptitious glances at some exciting still photographs or short films, and he was good to go, as far as he was concerned. His base emotions, those niggling little lusts that caught him yearning in the wee hours of the morning, didn't ask for much... but now, in his late twenties, he'd taken the plunge and crossed the border between guilty fantasies and real life.

And, as always seemed to be the case, real life was more unbelievable than any of his imaginings.

Natasha's sheath, which had seemed to reach its maximum size back in the Emerald Terrace pools, was swelling anew. It grew thicker and fuller before his eyes, inch by inch in rhythm with hir heart, pinning his arm forcefully against the raccoon's underbust. He was no expert in these situations, but he guessed that it had to be wider than Natasha's admittedly slender waist, and if it kept up the same pace it would soon be wider than his own!

Yay, the little voice in the back of his mind, that had so recently been dubbed Island Bertie, cheered.

_ _

He was almost disappointed when it stopped short of that dimension, quivering and tense and oh so inviting. He slid his palm up the immense velvety pouch, admiring how the swollen veins just below the surface branched out over and over, like lightning. When the tightness in his chest didn't seem to be going away, he realized he'd forgotten to take a breath for nearly a minute. He exhaled explosively, to Natasha's delight.

_ _

"Go on," shi urged gently, ruffling his hair. "Get up close and personal."

_ _

Bertie looked at hir, shocked and a little terrified. "I... uhm... I don't... I mean, I haven't..."

_ _

"And how do you expect to learn?" shi asked pointedly, leaning in to give him a warm, wet kiss. "Go on! You're not gonna hurt me, hun, trust me, but... I can't stay like this forever, and there's oh so much more of me to get to know."

_ _

The beaver looked back and forth between hir angelic face and hir exceedingly disproportionate cannon, his desire to please at odds with the ever-present performance anxiety. He'd been doing SO WELL up to this point, he thought, why did he have to go and ruin it now by hesitating? He was IN BED with the woman of his dreams, and shi, for some reason, wanted HIM. Dirty little fantasies were one thing, but this was... this was...

_ _

This was what? Island Bertie asserted.Different? Of course it's different, you moron. It's REAL. It's what the rest of the world has been doing while you were busy making their smartphones do little beepy things. Shi's so, SO far out of your league, Bertie... shi's gorgeous, shi's motivated, shi's probably smarter than you, and shi lives in the sort of island paradise that most folks only aspire to visit. You don't deserve someone like hir... but shi picked you, didn't shi? So what are you going to do?

_ _

Bertie had to admit to himself: he had a point.

"Wish me luck," he wheezed, returning the kiss. Natasha blinked in surprise, not entirely sure how to interpret that phrase (and to be perfectly honest, Bertie wasn't sure what it meant, either... it just seemed like the thing to say).

He slipped his arm from beneath hir shoulders and rose to his knees. The view was unearthly; his right paw caressed a breast the size of a yoga ball, thumb brushing against hir little black nipple, while his left stroked the side of a single teste that had to outmass his entire body. There was virtually none of the splendid grrl's body visible at this angle below those four spheres, but he could feel hir own paw stroking his hip reassuringly, occasionally giving his own member a squeeze or sneaking around to give his rump a helpful groping. And rising above it all, forcing its way past hir sac and bosom, hir sheath still managed to extend past the top of his head.

"..."

"I swear," Natasha interrupted from somewhere below hir bosom, "if you 'eep' one more time, I am turning his body right around, and there's no Splash Mountain for anybody!"

Bertie managed to catch most of that utterance before it escaped his lips, derailed as he was by the possible ways to interpret the name of that world-famous theme part. "I was merely... uttering a short prayer," he eventually mumbled, blushing all the way to the base of his broad, leathery tail. "That I... am able to satisfy you. And... you know... survive."

"You religious?"

"Tonight, I am."

"Smart beaver," shi snickered, and he would have given anything to see the expression on hir face. Almost anything. "Well, as the college boys say, it ain't gonna suck itself."

They still say that? Bertie thought, remembering his frat days all too well. Maybe they were just using it wrong, because... damn howdy, that line's working on me right now!

_ _

Business Bertie was appraising the situation before him, flexing his jaw curiously and wondering just how exactly he was supposed to proceed. He would have about as much luck trying to fit one of the island's golf carts in his mouth, but even giving it his best shot left him hugely confused as to how he would even begin. Obviously he'd seen many videos that started in similar situations, but there were several different tactics that the non-hypers would take in this situation, and he wasn't sure what Natasha would prefer, let alone what HE would prefer!

Island Bertie ignored this existential quandary entirely, and flung his arms around the middle of the raccoongrrl's colossal sheath. He pressed his muzzle eagerly against it, smothering it in passionate kisses, and putting as much force as he could muster into them. He'd been reassured that he wasn't going to hurt hir, and sure enough he was pretty sure he was having about as much impact on hir tender flesh as a butterfly would against his own. He dug his fingertips into the thin, tight skin, dragging them back and forth, and using the friction to try and haul himself a little higher, bringing his lips closer to the straining cuff. Over and above and underneath the flowery scents of the hot springs they'd so recently been floating around in, he could easily make out the heady, musky scents wafting up from hir nethers, and that only spurred him on.

For a moment, even Island Bertie worried that he wasn't doing a very good job. There seemed to be no reaction from the luscious hyper. He couldn't even feel hir paw anywhere, when so recently it had been exploring him in some pretty exciting ways. He didn't let up, though; his paws continued exploring as thoroughly as they could, but he rest his cheek against hir sheath so he could speak.

"Is this-"

That was all he managed to get out before Natasha bucked, hir paw lashing out and gripping his thigh with crushing force. Hir breath sounded like a high wind slashing through the trees of New Caledonia, and he could just imagine hir lips pulled back, hir teeth clenched together. Business Bertie was arranging these visualizations in a neat, sensible order, while Island Bertie busied himself not being crushed by the raccoon's frenzied motions. Hir sheath seemed to writhe in his arms, and he worried he HAD squeezed too hard, touched something too sensitive when he shouldn't have...

... except a moment later he was treated to a very different sensation against his arms and chest, and the faintly-perfumed traces of hir musk became an overpowering maelstrom. He was no longer leaning against the too-full, too-tight spire of hir sheath, but was now supporting as best he could manage hir flaccid maleness. He watched, eyes bulging, as hir velvety cuff retracted until it was down and out of sight, hidden by the mounds of hir sac and bosom.

In the vertical slices of moonlight passing through the bedroom's high windows, hir soft pink flesh glowed a brilliant white, contrasting with the silver and black of hir fur. In great, slow thrums, it flexed and swelled within his arms, a fraction thicker but notably longer... er, higher, with each beat. It curved in a quarter circle, vertical in his embrace before flopping over to point towards Natasha's head, and he watched in giddy awe as it straightened. The shadow it cast on the bed excited him, even more exaggerated than hir already mind-blowing proportions.

"So," Natasha asked, hir limbs stretching out luxuriantly in all directions. "How's your first vacation going, hun?"

Bertie rest his cheek against hir once more, his little wet nose against hir broad, twitching shaft. He squeezed, giggling madly as the entire immense column flexed and bounced. His entire body felt like an ice cream headache, tingling and delicious and yet still prey to some invisible, crushing force. Business Bertie was having a panic attack behind the couch, but Island Bertie vowed to carry him through, kicking and screaming. His paw slipped down the underside of hir shaft, enjoying the way it seemed to disappear into the fuzzy spheres of hir sac, which was growing anew to keep pace with hir cock.

"Looking up," he replied, starting to kiss his way down hir body. He'd promised to take some _accurate_measurements, and he was nothing if not reliable.

---

Part 9

Saturday, 11:30pm

Natasha had never quite had a 'first date night' go like this.

In hir time at Ilsa Calamata, in the capacity of psychologist, consulting therapist, and family counselling specialist, shi'd had six such 'vacations' on contract with The Resort. Shi generally wasn't choosy, hir only real requirements being that hir relationships for the week be with fellow working professionals. Shi felt on sturdier ground when shi was dealing with over-stressed workaholics; it was like mixing business with pleasure, in one of the few acceptable situations!

The first two had been quite a bit older, which had been a very nice experience for hir. They were slow, they were careful, and when it came to their more private interactions they were very concerned with hir own pleasure, which shi appreciated ENORMOUSLY... and of course shi could reciprocate in some very interesting ways.

The third had been a world famous actress on a well-deserved break. Without her makeup and without her standard wardrobe, Natasha had been shocked to find out that the sweet, baby-faced mink was almost unrecognizable as someone with seven billion dollars in global box office. During their week together, only three people had actually identified her properly on sight. The pair still exchanged e-mails and the occasional racy picture, but the mink was booked solid for the next two years, and if the culture magazines were to be believed she'd finally fallen in love with a real honest-to-goodness princess from a small, tropical nation.

Natasha still had to RSVP for the wedding on that one...

Numbers four and five had been some of the 'new breed' of go-go millennials, working eighty hour weeks and getting all of their nutrients in the form of tasteless protein shakes which arrived in artisinal cardboard tetra packs every five days. They talked about the price of success being the eschewing of friends, family, hobbies, interests... there would be time for that later. Natasha had hir work cut out for hir with those boys, but shi liked to think that shi was doing the world a favor by sending them back with an extremely memorable taste of what the slow life could offer.

And now number six, Bertie McCulloch, one of the most influential young billionaires of the modern era. Software magnate, encryption guru, cultural touchstone when it came to peer-to-peer messaging, open network security, and the ubiquity of always-on smart technology. The small, stocky, unassuming little beaver with the black t-shirts and the white socks who could affect global stock prices merely by choosing which invitations by foreign dignitaries and tech firms to accept.

Natasha had tried to clear hir mind of preconceptions and prejudices regarding this week, but even shi had to admit that shi would never in a million years have imagined hirself propped up by a small feat of pillow-based civil engineering, one paw helping to balance a bowl of ice cream that wobbled atop hir breast, watching in amusement as one of the most powerful men on the planet jogged back and forth, taking measurements with the measuring tape that had been sent up by the front desk.

Shi scooped another tiny spoonful of hazelnut liqueur ice cream into hir muzzle, shivering and savouring as it melted. By all rights shi should have been blacked-out drunk twice over, but the wonders of the hyper physiology had some interesting benefits. A normal-sized raccoon-grrl might have been nearly catatonic, between cocktails and wine, champagne and shots, but Natasha's current, ah, mass had distributed hir blood alcohol level until shi was merely sustaining a nice buzz. Shi surveyed that mass now, shifting hir legs and watching a delightful excess of twitching, semi-aroused maleness flex in response.

Bertie yipped in surprise, the tape measure slipping through his fingers as hir girth suddenly increased. "Hey!" he called excitedly. "You're making it difficult to get baselines! Heck, I've run backchecks three times now, and they're all out."

Natasha covered hir muzzle and giggled. "Hon, you gotta be kidding me. Are you imagining for a moment that I can just, like... not grow?"

"Pause growing, though? I thought the ice cream would help!"

Shi arched an eyebrow. "In what way?"

Bertie shrugged, readjusting the tape measure, which was currently wrapped around the approximate middle of hir shaft. "I dunno. It's cold? Desserts always make me chill out. It... it made sense in my head..."

"I bet you say that a lot," Natasha giggled.

"I know YOU'VE already said that TWICE," he countered.

"What? I never! When?"

"Once in the elevator on the way up to the suite the first time, and once after the massage," Bertie grinned. "I'm onto your wily brain-doctoring tricks, Doctor Kawa."

Shi sighed, rolling hir eyes dramatically. "Oh, you're too smart for me," shi snickered. "I'm just hoping you feel like you're getting your money's worth."

The suite's palatial master bedroom was lit by close to three dozen candles, also sent up from the Resort's extremely well-stocked stores. The concierges were world-famous for their ability to successfully and discretely supply odd, unusual, or theoretically impossible requests. Bertie intended to test that rumor later on during the week, but for now he'd only sent down for the candles, the dessert tray, the assortment of measuring tapes, and a single medical-grade sexual accessory.

Bertie kept eyeing up the large, flat package, which had come wrapped in pink cellophane and tied up with a bow, both extremely excited and toe-curlingly terrified to open it up.

"Hon?"

The stocky beaver shook his head and focused his attention on the tape measure. "Y-yes, absolutely," he managed, fingers trembling.

"I have to confess to being a little curious," shi purred, eyeing hirself up. "What's it say?"

"Two... uh... two hundred and eighty five centimeters," Bertie said hoarsely, double-checking the digits before pulling the measuring tape free from beneath hir warm, silky pink cock. "Around."

"Is that good?" shi asked innocently.

His lips worked silently, running through the last batch of numbers. "Forty five... uhm... pi are squared... uhm... that... uhm..."

Bertie knelt on the bed, his eyes roaming from the base of Natasha's maleness all the way to the tip, and then back again. "By my calculations, your c-... your c-... uhm..."

"Cannon, sweetie?"

"C-... yeah, cannon," he nodded gratefully, "weighs about two and a half tons. Uhm. So far."

Natasha's eyes widened, and almost immediately there was an acute physical response to his words. Hir body was mostly hidden, hir torso by hir far-more-than-an-armful breasts, hir legs by hir considerably larger sac, but those four swells expanded yet more before their very eyes. At least, Bertie had to assume they were before hir eyes as well as his own... after all, he couldn't see hir face anymore.

It was even more dramatic all along hir length, which stretched from hir support system of pillows all the way to the edge of the bed. Eleven feet long, to use the archaic but still more visually concise imperial method, and close to three feet thick, Natasha was now not only more than just 'hung like a horse', there were entire actual horses that weren't as big as just hir maleness. As Bertie tried to wrap his mind around hir dimensions, another wave of arousal pushed those numbers further. With a faint, sighing 'thud', the tip of hir wondrous pink shaft slipped off the edge of the bed and thumped against the plush white carpeting.

"Do you need to recalculate?" Natasha asked coquettishly, hir voice carrying around hir bust.

Bertie's eyes cast wildly around the bedroom, but he felt quite reassured that the miracle-workers that owned and operated The Resort would have taken things like 'available space' into account. The bed was immense, but the cavernous suite was still large enough for a fairly respectable game of Ultimate Frisbee.

"No, I... I think I'm good," he squeaked, crawling back onto the bed and moving towards the hidden voice. "At a certain point, uhm... the numbers lose their appeal."

"Goodness gracious me," Natasha laughed, finishing off hir ice cream and tossing the bowl carelessly off the edge of the bed behind hir. Three hundred and fifty days a year, shi was a spotlessly, even scrupulously clean raccoon, and even the service that shi hired to tidy and maintain hir office complained that there wasn't anything for them to do. For those magical two weeks that shi could cut loose, however, shi absolutely took advantage of the Resort's extremely well-staffed, and well-paid, room cleaning services. Considering the sorts of messes they were often tasked with cleaning up, shi doubted a few splashed of ice cream were going to cause any complaints to appear on hir file. "Have we finally gotten to the part of Island Bertie that can step away from the calculator?"

"Not possible," the beaver grinned, rapping a knuckle against the side of his head. "Born built in. Just... I think I fulfilled a few childhood dreams in the last hour, and for that I don't think I can ever properly repay you."

Natasha muttered something fond and ever so slightly obscene under hir breath, but Bertie decided that he'd rather leave the mystery well enough alone. Working slowly and carefully, he pet and stroked and smooched his way along the base of hir maleness, each little touch forcing it thicker and firmer. When he could progress no further, blocked by the imposing but alluring wall of hir breasts, he crept around and snuggled up against the raccoon's plump backside, shifting some of hir support pillows out of the way. He wrapped his arms around hir midsection, enjoying the tremendous weight bearing down on hir body, and they shared a long, lingering kiss.

"So," Natasha rumbled, wriggling against him. Shi was thoroughly enjoying the comfort shi felt in his arms, his sturdy frame providing a dense warmth. At the same time, he was quite unlike hir other dates, in that he was so... unhurried. Shi'd teased him to within an inch of his life, using every trick in hir book, and sure enough he'd practically had steam coming out of his ears at several points during the day. And yet...

And yet...

"So," shi repeated, twisting slightly in his embrace to lock eyes with him. "This is your dream getaway, loverboy."

"Mmmm hmmmm," Bertie nodded dreamily. One paw snuck beneath hir waist, petting hir soft belly, while the other meandered here and there, from hir expansive sideboob down to the back quarter of one worryingly-overfilled teste, and everywhere in between. "Sure is."

Natasha writhed, and this time it wasn't to entice hir boyfriend; hir arousal had nearly peaked, and shi'd grown so ponderously erect that shi was having some difficulty maintaining hir position on the bed. Hir thighs were being forced apart by the bunched tendons and blood vessels anchoring hir shaft to hir loins, a single creamy white bulge of fluff flexing and relaxing in time with hir pulse. Shi was about ten feet from the edge of the bed, hir cock extending easily that much beyond.

"Is there anything I can do to make it a little better?" Shi threw in a butterfly-like bat of hir eyelashes, wondering if perhaps he just needed a little bit more coaxing to throw himself into the situation, so to speak.

Bertie's paw drifted a little further south, caressing the terribly sensitive mound where hir firehose-like urethral bulge throbbed with pent-up urgency, just below hir rump. "Is this normal?" he mumbled, nuzzling hir neck.

The raccoon twitched and shivered. It had been quite a long time since anyone had touched hir there in such a manner, and just that soft caress added two more feet to hir already impressive length. "F-f-f-f-f-for me, yes," shi hissed, hir vision going pink around the edges.

"Should I stop?"

"Stop and I'll kill you," shi grinned, swishing hir tail against his chest. "Just..."

His head popped up, instantly concerned. "Just what? Am I doing something wrong?"

"What? No! Goodness, no, sweetie. I just thought... you might like to do something... special."

He squeezed hir intimately, and hir eyes crossed. "I thought we were doing something special."

"Mmmmmf, you... we are," shi corrected hirself, swinging a foot back and hooking his leg, pulling them closer together. "I just thought, if there was something else you wanted to do..."

Bertie seemed to ponder. "We've got a whole week together," he said slowly. "I mean, if you want to do something-"

"No, not at all! If you wanted to do anything, though, I mean, that's kinda why-"

"I, uhm, I mean, jeez, I really really do, but this is only our first night together, it seemed awfully fast-"

"Yeah, there's plenty of time for us to, you know, let things happen-"

"Yeah, exactly! Let things happen naturally!"

"Yeah!"

"Yeah!"

They stared at one another for several moments, and Natasha was confused to discover that hir heart was pounding from something other than the desperate biological need to hilt hirself in someone hot and tight and willing. Shi was on pretty firm footing when it came to the types of folk who booked week-long escape experiences at The Resort: stuffed with desire, an excess of personality, and the confidence to try and sweep someone like the well-spoken hyper-herm raccoon off of hir feet. Shi would flirt hir little heart out, show a little too much fur, allow hirself to swell up when they weren't looking (or sometimes when they were), and then there'd be the inevitable skinny dipping and a few too many drinks and then someone finding out what it felt like to be crammed and fwoomped like a weather balloon.

But every step of the way with Bertie, he didn't react in quite the way shi'd expected.

"Yeah," shi said, blushing furiously and turning away from him once more, settling hirself back against his thick chest. "Just let things happen."

"Are you, uhm... good? Are you going to wake up like this in the morning?" Bertie gestured to hir wondrously overblown figure, four soft, sloshing orbs looming over them. "Because if you need me to do something, then I absolutely-"

"No no, not at all! I'll... _mostly..._go back to normal in my sleep," shi grinned knowingly.

"That's... good," Bertie said, sounding the tiniest bit disappointed.

"But..."

"But?"

"But..." Natasha leered, reaching back and digging hir blunt little claws into his rump, hauling him even closer. "Tomorrow, you're going to be dealing with a hyper on the edge. I'm not used to being... let's say 'denied'. So, tomorrow..."

_ _

"Tomorrow?" he echoed weakly.

"Tomorrow," shi continued, "there's going to come a moment where I'm going to NEEEED your help."

As if on cue, a low rumbling emanated from hir sac, and the silken bulge forcing hir thighs apart swelled against his own much more modestly-sized arousal. That mound was a great deal tighter now, reminding him of the time in high school where he'd gone mud-bogging with some friends, and at the end of the day he'd discovered that the front tire on his trike nearly had a blowout. A protuberance the size of a basketball, glossy and hard and black, dominated the tire's profile. His friends had congratulated him on managing to avoid disaster; if it had popped while he'd been moving at speed, the results could have been truly dangerous.

Moving on instinct, Bertie rolled his hips against hir, grinding carefully against that mound, tempting a much more interesting fate. "I'll never say no to you," he purred, giving hir neck a fond nuzzle.

Natasha squealed and squirmed, feeling white heat blooming in hir nethers. Eventually, the pair of them settled down. Over the next hour, the safety candles guttered and extinguished themselves, one by one, until the only light entering the room was the moon's brilliant glow filtering through the gauzy curtains drawn against the night. At one point Bertie heaved himself up, peering between the fuzzy valley formed by hir bust and hir sac, just to confirm that shi was still the size of a bus (shi was), but returned to embrace hir immediately after.

"You're a strange little boi," shi mused sleepily. The pair had been chatting, on and off, as the room darkened, drifting in and out of a light, hazy, tingling slumber. Bertie's eyes would close, and he would begin to snore softly, but a deft flexing of the raccoon's backside woke him up and hardened him to attention with ease. Later, though, Natasha would yawn and hir head would slump against the inviting pillows of hir cleavage, and Bertie's wandering paws would rouse hir with a contented murr. "I can count on one paw the number of times someone's just wanted to cuddle with me."

"I find that hard to believe," Bertie replied, blinking out of sync and trying to stay awake for the fifth time. "You're very cuddly."

"Oh, we are, we are, but... you know... normally there's... other things on their minds."

"Those things are always on my mind," Bertie chuckled, squeezing his arms around hir tummy and tickling the base of hir shaft. "I just... you know... I can think about other things, too."

Natasha smiled in the darkness as the final candle sputtered and died. "I'm glad," shi whispered. "I think this might be a week of firsts for the both of us."

"I'll take that as a..." he paused to fight another giant yawn, and mostly failed. After several seconds he managed to start breathing again, and finished the thought. "Compliment."

"You should. I thought I was done having those."

"That's horrible," Bertie mumbled, his lips barely moving. "What's the point in being alive... if you stop... having... new... ex... per..."

Natasha waited, but the only conclusion shi received was the cute and strangely soothing sound of his snoring in hir ears. Shi stretched again, as much as shi could while sandwiched between the burly little beaver and hir own over-stimulated anatomy, and settled down to properly sleep.

"You know something," shi said, closing hir eyes. "I think you might be right."

---

Bertie, wearing only a pair of sensible blue shorts, thanked the Resort concierge as quietly as possible and started to push the breakfast cart towards the suite's huge wraparound patio. The concierge just nodded and bowed, well used to dealing with early-morning calls, although he was more used to dealing with the Resort's escorts; normally, it was the guests who would be spending a considerable portion of the day recovering, deflating, and regaining their senses. The tall, whip-lean jackal, wearing a small white vest and a pair of white slacks stretched around several hundred pounds of doghood, closed the door behind him on the way out.

Huh, the jackal thought. Natasha must really be off hir game if that guy's able to walk!

_ _

Bertie inhaled the scents of coffee and various toasted pastries, his stomach rumbling. His normal daily routine involved waking up before the rest of his time zone, a quick job, a quick breakfast, and then sixteen hours of coffee and nutritious protein smoothies (helpfully and unavoidably supplied by Honey). He was surprised that, even after the interminable flights, the jet lag, and the frenzied, lust-filled tourism of the previous day, he was still on his own internal clock. He'd awoken with a start, still wrapped around Natasha. After regaining his bearings, he'd collected a pair of shorts, crept out of the huge bedroom, and quickly located the room service menu.

He pushed the cart out onto the patio, one hand manipulating his phone, looking up whether or not this was actually a 'veranda'. After determining that it wasn't, he started moving the trays and platters from the cart onto the glass-topped table, trying to make for an artistic, appealing display.

After a few minutes, he realized this was why he'd hired the best and brightest layout designers for his various programs and websites: he knew what a good artistic, appealing display looked like, but he also knew that he would never figure out how to actually build it himself. A few iterations later, he gave up completely and just tried to make all of the breakfast options symmetrical.

He'd finished one entire pot of coffee himself and was considering dipping into the second when the huge double doors separating the patio from the bedroom opened, and Natasha bounced sleepily into the early morning light. Shi was mid-yawn, hir jaw stretched hugely, and hir copper-streaked hair was a wild, tangled and altogether adorable mess.

Shi was also completely nude, and Bertie's palms started to sweat instantly.

"G'mornin," Natasha mumbled, stretching hir arms high overhead and rising up onto hir tiptoes. Hir ponderous assets swayed from side to side, but shi somehow stayed upright. "Sleep well?"

"Yip," Bertie managed, trying to blink but unable to.

Natasha was considerably smaller now than shi'd been when they'd fallen asleep, but shi was still quite a bit fuller and curvier than shi'd been when they'd first met. Shi'd absolutely shrunk down overnight, but not all the way.

And if this is where shi starts, Bertie thought wonderingly, what's going to happen when shi starts growing again?

_ _

As if reading his mind, Natasha glanced down and surveyed hir body. Hir paws framed the keg-sized bulge of hir sheath, giving it a little shake. "Oh, this? Don't worry. I've woken up bigger than this."

"Oh," Bertie managed. "Good."

Shi swayed up to him, pressing hirself intimately against his body, hir breasts piling up against his chest and overflowing, almost engulfing his arms. "I might need your help getting dressed in a bit," shi purred, leaning in to boop hir nose against his. "But first, something important. Something very, very important..."

"A-a-a-a-anything!"

Natasha winked, and cast hir eyes down at the table. "Can you pour me a coffee? I don't think I'd be able to reach without knocking everything over. Two sugar, six cream, please."

"Would you like to help me back to my room, Mr. McCulloch? I suddenly feel the need to... lie down."