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The village fete covered the village green, tents selling local goods and handmade crafts. A marquee and tea tent serving scones and fresh baked cakes filled the green outside the church and in pride of place opposite it was the fenced in area for the various countryside activities from sheep dog trials and such.

Orel and Shiro had set up in the designated area for performers they'd bagged. A six foot square marked off with rope barriers and a tall narrow tent at the back. Undoing the ties on the tent Orel pulled the flap shut and turned to look at his raccoon partner.

"This looks like a good fete," the brown rat said, starting to unbutton his shirt. "Looks like there is a nice morning crowd too so we should get out there."

"See, I told you this was a good place to perform," Shiro pulled off his T-shirt and grinned. The raccoon had a black furred eye mask and the black continued across the top of his muzzle. Otherwise his fur was a dark grey with a rich cream coloured chest, neck and jaw.

Orel grinned and watched as his partner stripped then turned to focus on his own clothes. Orel was brown, a single light colour all over except for the thick Mohawk of darker brown hair that stood up between his ears before trailing down his spine.

"It looks good," Orel said as he started to pull on the tight purple lycra singlet he wore when performing, "But if it's such a good village why are we staying at that BnB?"

"It was cheap and had vacancies," Shiro said, the raccoon pulling on his own singlet, his was orange and like Peel's hand shorts that came down to mid thigh, "It was a good deal."

"Yeah, but it's a six mile walk and there is no taxi or bus service," Orel grumbled, picking up the hard shell plastic mask he wore whilst performing, "Someplace in the village would have been better."

"A walk will do us both good!" Shiro protested, tying on his own mask, "It'll be a good cool down after performing all day."

"Ok, ok. Let's do this," Orel rolled his shoulders then fluffed up his mohawk and strode out into their performance area.

Their performance drew eyes as always, the colourful singlets, exotic masks covering their muzzles and acrobatic antics always drew eyes. Orel juggled everything from knives to flaming batons and Shiro flipped and contorted and twisted his way through the usually deadly looking loops and spirals the rat created. The duo performed twice before noon then broke for lunch, then their brief from the fete committee was to wander the crowd until after the various competitions were over.

After that it was two more performances and adhoc crowd wandering until the fete was closed by the bell ringers peeling away on the church bells. Pulling off his mask and watching the last visitors head back to their cars, Orel stretched and rolled his shoulders. He then stooped to pick up their tips hat and poured the coins into the pocket in his backpack, he had just finished when the reverend hailed him.

"Orel my boy," the badger called, "Splendid show you boys put on for us!" He clapped Orel's shoulders, "You're back tomorrow, I believe?"

"Yes, sir. It's very good of the fete committee to have us."

"Our pleasure," the Reverend smiled. "See you boys tomorrow," he waved and headed off. Orel turned to face Shiro as the raccoon strolled back over, carrying two plastic pint glasses full of cider.

"Here, on the house from the pub landlord," Orel accepted and took a swig listening as Shiro gestured, "He'll pay us a hundred and fifty to do a performance in the pub garden, and he also offered to throw in a free dinner too."

Downing his drink Orel brushed droplets off his whiskers and reached for his mask, "Well, come on then. A job's a job and extra cash is always welcome."

Which is how Orel wound up spending another three hours on the impromptu stage behind the pub, juggling fire and showing off for appreciative locals. By the time they had finished, the sun was lowering toward the horizon and the heat of the day was being blown away by a cool breeze out of the east. The sky was a glorious orange colour, and thin streamers of clouds were racing across the sky. Shaking hands with the portly squirrel who ran the pub, Shiro was making with the social goodbyes whilst Orel watched, backpack over one shoulder, his mask tied around the other strap.

"You sure you boys don't want to change?" the landlord was asking, "You're welcome to use the upstairs."

"Thanks for the offer Rob," Shiro enthused, "But we're OK, we're all sweat and tousled fur, we'd just get our change of clothes gross too. We'll clean up at the BnB."

"Well, have a good walk, lads," the squirrel waved with his thick grey tail, "See you tomorrow evening, you boys are talented. Good eye candy for the lads and lasses in those acrobat togs, too."

Shiro shared a cheerful laugh and a farewell, then he and Orel were strolling out of the village. The narrow country lane was bordered by a low stone wall, and after two miles of open fields they entered a wood. Imagine their surprise, then, when it started to rain. Fat raindrops splashed over the pair, starting lightly before swiftly growing into a deluge. Hurrying into the paltry cover offered by a tree, Shiro shook out his sodden tail and glowered at the sky.

"Where did this come from? It's still light out, and the sky is still blue!"

Peering at the canopy of leafy bows covering the road, Orel wriggled his nose, raindrops flying from his whiskers. "It's coming from the east. Come on, there's a bridge up ahead we can hide under."

Orel made a dash for the hump backed bridge that crossed a mostly empty stream bed, and scurried down the bank. Shiro followed but the raccoon soon paused, clinging to the rocks as Orel stepped down into the river bed. The rat's bare pink paws sunk into the damp, clay-like mud up to his ankles.

"What?" Orel called over one shoulder, turning to look at the raccoon, "Come on, there's a ledge we can sit on."

Orel slogged forward, feet squelching in the thick clay with every step he took. The thick, claggy clay clung to his feet and the brown fur around his ankles. He dropped his backpack on the stone ledge running along the underside of the bridge, and turned around to watch Shiro. He leered shamelessly as his raccoon friend slipped his grey paws into the mud and sunk almost to his knees as he tried to follow in Orel's footsteps.

Smirking, the rat tugged on the tight, clinging fabric of his singlet and let his eyes rove over Shiro's body. The rain made the clingy fabric stick to his body, showing off the curves of his limbs and the pleasing bulge of his groin. Tugging at the shoulder straps of his singlet, Orel licked his lips and watched, waiting for Shiro to reach the ledge before reaching out to take his friends backpack.

"This is a cosy spot to wait out the rain," Orel squeaked softly with a grin, "Mud isn't all the bad either."

Shiro paused in the act of climbing, and wriggled his toes in the small furrow his legs were making in the mud. "It's warm, yeah... you want to? Here?"

Leaning forward, Orel gripped the raccoon by the ears, thumbs teasing over the piercings in his ears as he pulled their muzzles together into a kiss. Shiro murmured and pressed into the kiss so Orel slid himself off the ledge, feet sinking into the thick, smooth clay. Shiro pressed his damp, singlet coated chest against the rat's, and Orel murmured in delight as the raccoon's hands slid across the smooth fabric of his singlet before playing with the base of his tail.

By the time they came up for air, both of them were up to their waists in the thickly clinging muck. Grinding gently against the raccoon Orel licked his whiskers and smiled, wriggling his toes, encouraging the mud to squish between them the rat squeaked as he let his thickening bulge stretch the fabric of his singlet.

"So... wrestling?" he asked coyly, letting his ears wilt as Shiro shook his head.

"First I need to piss, then you owe me a show... then... well we'll see."

Smirking excitedly Orel knelt, groaning as the thick mud oozed up around his knees, then squelched over the thick bulge in his singlet. The clay gave, slurping around the back of his thighs and ankles, the weight of his body submerging his feet beneath the muck.

Settling down to his waist Orel leant backwards, exposing his chest and stomach, squeaking up at Shiro. His raccoon friend meanwhile was peeling off his singlet, exposing his smooth, rain damp grey fur. He then clambered up onto the ledge under the bridge and gripped his sheath. Licking his lips Orel watched Shiro's cock, admiring the silver rings pierced through the end.

Shiro sighed, a blissful smile spreading over his muzzle as he let go. An arching stream of golden piss sprayed through the air and splashed across Orel's chest, soaking through his singlet and sinking into his fur. Closing his eyes the rat lowered his head and shuddered in delight as that warm stream splashed through his mohawk, flattening his crest, soaking it and sticking it to his skull before Shiro shifted his stream and let it flow down Orel's back.

Leaning back Orel spread his legs, wriggling his body, letting it settle deeper into the thick mud as Shiro finished off by soaking Orel's stomach and groin.

Opening his eyes the rat grinned up at the raccoon as he sighed in relief. "Enjoy that did you?" Orel chuckled.

"Sure did, sewer rat," Shiro grinned, "I've been holding that since lunch. Now then, rat. You know what I want to see."

"Sure," the rst squeaked and leant backwards, sprawling into the mud, pushing down with his feet to lie flat. Sweeping his arms out to either side, Orel swept two large oozing sweeps of thick, clinging mud across his chest. It oozed beneath his singlet, making the saturated lycra stretch and fill with mud.

Sliding his hands up his chest Orel rubbed mud into his neck fur then spread it up and over his muzzle. Spreading the clay into his fur, Orel closed his eyes and rubbed it into his face, then slicked down his mohawk, and rubbed his paws down the trail that lead down his neck. Wriggling back and forth Orel burrowed out a furrow in the mud, squirming in delight as he felt clay oozing in to coat and cover him. Rolling his shoulders Orel started to squirm out of his singlet, squeaking and gasping in delight as he freed the rest of his body and ran his hands back and forth across his body to soak mud into the clean patches that had been protected by his clothes.

"Looking good, sewer rat," Shiro purred, the raccoon stepping back into the mud with a squelch. Opening his eyes Orel was in time to see Shiro raise his foot and bring it down firmly on his cock and groin. Squeaking out a groan, Orel's body sank into the mud as Shiro pressed down and flexed his toes to tease his cock.

Squirming under his thick layering of muck, Orel grinned up at Shiro, his hard cock, shoulders, head and tips of his feet the only parts of his body still visible above the mud.

"You going to sit on it?" the rat asked eagerly.

"Not until I see you coat yourself, sewer rat," Shiro teased, pulling his foot back, "You've not earned my rump just yet."

Coated in mud, reduced from a rat to an unidentifiable rodent coated in a thick layer of mud, Orel knew he was blushing. But he did it, eyes closed he forced his body to relax and focussed on his bladder, pushing down firmly. Pissing whilst throbbing and needy as Orel was proved to be damnably hard, but after about a minute he managed it. Being rock hard also meant his rich, amber piss shot out under pressure and splashed across his face.

Opening his mouth Orel continued to bare down, the stream of his piss splashing over his tongue. The taste was bitter, warm and most of it ran down his mud soaked chin. It had the desired effect of making Shiro groan in need and move to straddle Orel. He watched holding back the last of his piss until Shiro had crouched down so the last of Orel's piss washed across his rock hard cock.

Sighing in relief at letting out the last of his bladder, Orel reached up with two pawfuls of muck and slathered Shiro's tail, disguising his grey and black ringed fur beneath a slick layer of clay. He then rubbed muck into the raccoon's rump as the last few droplets of piss splashed across his navel.

Churring in delight, Shiro turned and wasted no time in kneeling down and rolling Orel over. Straddling the rat's legs, knees sinking into the thick, churned up, creamy mud, Shiro slid forward, his cock sliding between the rat's smooth, mud coated cheeks. Reaching up to grip Orel's hips, Shiro started to thrust his hips and drove his shaft deeper into the rat.

The pair of them gasped, mud sloshing and slopping around their bodies as they rutted like beasts. Outside of the shelter created by the bridge, the rain continued to fall. Under the bridge, rendered unrecognizable by the thick, smooth coating of clay covering them, the coon and rat fucked. Rolling his hips Shiro started to speed up, cock thrusting in and out of Orel's rump as the raccoon slid his mud coated paws up to grip the rat's mohawk and shove his head down into the churned up muck.

Groaning in need Orel squished his paws down through the mud, his arms sunk and he was helplessly unable to reach his covk as Shiro rode his ass. Squirming Orel groaned, clenching with his rump, moaning as his shaft slipped back and forth in the thick mud as Shiro started to speed up. Then with a deep, groaning moan the rat felt his body tightening, Shiro's thrusts where becoming faster, more erratic and the dual sensation of mud sliding around his cock and coon pounding him was bliss. Then with a whimpering squeak Shiro started to cum. His shaft twitched with each shot of seed and with a moan Orel clenched milking the raccoon through his orgasm.

The rat lost it, his cock fired his seed into the churned up muck he was buried in and Shiro's squeaking and squirming as his rump worked the raccoons cock was music to his ears. Then with a final thrust of his hips Shiro relaxed into the mud with a happy squeak and rest atop his mud smeared friend's back.

"You're a mess, how are we going to get into the BnB like this?"

"You're not enough of a mess," Orel growled and heaved himself up, using the leverage of still having a full rump to topple Shiro into the muck and smother the patches of clean fur in thick brown mud.

Laughing Shiro squirmed free and splashed mud at Orel, helplessly fighting off the rat as he splattered him with muck, "Ok, Ok, you win," Shiro gasped, flopping onto his side in the mud and wriggling, "But seriously how are we going to get clean?"

"We don't," Orel sprawled on his back, arms tucked up behind his head and smiled, "We enjoy the mud until it's dark then sneak back. No one will be able to see us like this then."

"Ah, you're probably right," Shiro sighed, stretching, "It feels good to let go like this sometimes."

"Yeah," Orel smirked, "You can have my rump tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Shiro asked, then grinned widely and nodded. "Sure, tomorrow... it'll be awesome."

"Mud is always awesome," Orel growled sprawling on his side to admire the raccoon, "Mud is awesome."