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"I know it's a little forward on my part, but...I don't feel like putting on a show for anyone right now," Bridgette confessed. "So, if you think you're up to the task...would you be willing to skip the second and third dates, and come over to my place tonight for what comes after?"

Irving was quietly shocked, but impressed with Bridgette all the same. "Not that I have any problem with cutting to the chase, but I thought you might want to be romanced a little bit more than that."

"Trust me, you're not getting off the hook that easily," Bridgette replied. "In fact, I'm probably going to ask you to take me on a proper date after this, but...right now? I need something that a steak dinner in a fancy restaurant just can't provide."

"And if I'm not able to provide it?"

"There's no doubt in my mind that you can," Bridgette countered. "In fact, I think you're the perfect man for the job...that is, if you can make your way over here in the next hour."

"That's the only requirement?"

She paused, and with a thought, a grin spread across her tiny, narrow muzzle. "Do you have any old ethernet cables lying around at your place?"

"I might."

"Then there are two requirements. I think you can handle that."

**

There was no reason for Bridgette to light the candles in the dining room, save for the atmosphere it created when Irving made his way to her house.

The warmth coming from each flame danced upon her fur and illuminated the presence of something more within her when Irving walked through the door of her apartment, and just seeing the scope and scale of it, he was already impressed.

"No wonder you've been working so many overtime shifts lately," he greeted her. "You're really making payments on this place all on your own?"

Bridgette couldn't hide the prideful grin that snuck across her expression. "For better or for worse, yes. I managed to sneak my way into this place when it first went onto the market, but since then, the real estate market has exploded, and people are driving up their rental rates by the day. It's...kinda maddening to know that my overtime now is just barely covering the cost of my utilities."

Irving was more than happy to listen to Bridgette's problems for as long as she was willing to vent, but even a moment of airing out her complaints pushed such tension from her shoulders that the straps of her dress began to droop.

He didn't know that she was ready for him to seize that opportunity, but a few things she'd mentioned in their conversation over the phone emboldened him to resting a palm on one of those straps; she expected him to push it aside, but for the moment, he rested there and smiled down at her, seeing that she was comfortable with his touch.

"Once you're properly relaxed, we can sit back on the couch, share a pint of ice cream and talk about all the things at work that are bothering you," he offered, spelling out a perfect evening of aftercare for her. "But just yet, you're not very relaxed at all, are you?"

The mouse quivered under his palm, but she wasn't fearful of his presence: she'd invited him over because she was convinced that he was forceful enough to push her away from her own stresses, but a gentleman enough to respect her limits, if he was bold enough to reach them.

She didn't anticipate him starting off with a touch so immediately, but when her lips parted again, she didn't offer a complaint.

"Not as relaxed as I'd like to be, anyway...but that's why you're here, isn't it?"

"I'm not sure what kind of relaxing involves an old ethernet cable, but if you'd be willing to enlighten me, I'm glad to give this my best shot."

"I know it probably feels like this hits a little too close to my work life, but I can assure you, you're a smart enough man to figure out where the work ends and the fun begins."

She gave a tug at the bundle of wires that he carried in his other paw, thinking he'd get the point without anything further.

"I'd be a fool to miss the signs, yes," Irving agreed. "But are you sure this is what you're really after?"

"I know exactly what I'm after," she confirmed. "But if I'm really going to get into it, I need to get out of it...and to get out of it, I need to not know what's coming next."

"Shall we skip the rest of the apartment tour, then?"

"It can wait."

**

A puddle of silk and fabric sat just beyond the foot of the bed, composed of a dress that couldn't be removed fast enough and the soft, smooth dress shirt that Irving picked for what easily could have been a traditional date.

Against the plush comforter on her mattress, Bridgette would have gladly climbed in and fastened herself into place, but when the dress spilled from her flesh, she felt Irving pushing against her; gently, at first, as if to gauge how much force she wanted to feel that evening, before pinning her into the covers and pushing his weight down against hers.

He held a level of maturity that she admired, and his bodice was so much greater than her small, slender form that the cord wrapping around her wrists was more for show than anything: she couldn't hope to overwhelm him if she tried.

Every other problem in her life, she could overcome with hard work, patience and discipline.

Irving wasn't a problem, but he was force that she couldn't push through, work around or put off. He was a handsome, direct man, looming above her and putting the finishing touches on the knot that kept her wrists tied above her head.

She still didn't know for sure what she was looking for in a man, but Irving was pushing all the right buttons so far, and she didn't know which ones he'd go for next.

She loved that.

"I suppose it's a little late to be bringing up a safe word, but...since we're already here, is that something you're interested in?"

Long nights working around a plethora of people that didn't both to take the time to get to know her or show any concern for her left Bridgette feeling a strange, growing wealth of emotion at the sensual question.

She managed to shake her head without showing too much of it, but her eyes were glassy, revealing how touched she was by his concern. "Sweet of you to offer, though," she briefly replied.

Irving wanted to remain a gentleman through and through, but the lap of his slacks did little to hide the growing bulge of excitement he sported for the mouse beneath him. Her body was soft and smooth, and among a coat of neatly trimmed fur of gray and tawny, lingerie made a bold, dark statement in covering up her most sensual areas.

That would all be stripped away before the evening was through, but knowing that she was interested in the unexpected meant that Irving couldn't just tear her brassier away and suckle at her breasts, hungry as he was to taste them.

He had to be tactful.

"If you're absolutely sure, I'll do my best to respect whatever limits come up," he offered. "Though I apologize in advance if I lose myself in the moment. Around a beauty like yourself, I can't promise to have to total control."

"And among a handsome beast like you, I wouldn't have had any control if you hadn't tied me up," Bridgette confessed. "I don't know that I need to be taught a lesson or to learn discipline; nothing stereotypical and cheesy like that...but perhaps I could use a reminder to appreciate the good things I've already got in my life."

"Like a nice, posh apartment, for starters?" Irving asked. "A warm, comfortable bed, and a kind, caring gentleman in it that's going to tend to your needs for the evening?"

Bridgette snickered. "So you're already calling yourself a part of my life? Can't say I mind a man with confidence, but that's truly bold of you."

"And you're stalling."

"Am I?"

The brief pause between them was filled with the sound of raindrops rapping at the windowpane behind her bed, and in the large, mostly empty master bedroom, their weight echoed across the room and pressured either one of them to do anything.

Irving understood why Bridgette wanted so badly to be taken out of control of the situation, and letting his eyes roam her captured bodice once more, he felt the pressure of approaching such a gorgeous body...and tackled it head-on.

"A little bit," he repeated his theory. "Because you've never experienced such a treatment before, have you?"

The mouse blinked, but she didn't have a proper answer in her mind just yet. Instead, she was forced to think back on the brief, checkered history that made up her sexual tapestries, and in doing so, she left herself open, more than she already was.

Before, she was bound and mostly naked, but she was on guard and prepared.

Right then, she was completely vulnerable to the cool, chilling press of a canine muzzle against the side of her neck, and nothing she did would keep her skin from crawling in either direction.

One chill moved into her spine and down along her back, forcing her to tense up and roll her shoulders against the covers. Under the presence of the man above her, she was drawn to the warmth of his body when her breasts lifted to meet his torso, but the rest of the shock settled itself in the large, round flesh of her ears, forcing them to twitch with an unusual sense of delight.

"You're so hesitant to let your walls down...so terrified of allowing yourself to experience something unpredictable that you literally have to be tied up and forced to relax so that you can stop seeing the world through a work-colored lens..."

He was reading her like a book, and finally, she was letting someone go past the beautiful artwork that lured people in: he was more interested in the content behind the cover, and she was excited to finally know what details were waiting beyond the first chapter.

"Now that I'm sure you'll enjoy this, I'm not afraid to push you a little further out of your comfort zone," Irving assured her. "And if no man has ever granted you such a treatment before, I'm honored to be the first."

Bridgette wasn't a virgin, but she was never the kind to get emotionally involved with the people she slept with. She found a greater connection with machines than she ever did with people, and even though they were literally programmed to respond to her a certain way, they always seemed to care more about her satisfaction than the people she trusted enough to take to bed with her.

She could literally program a lover that could outperform them and satisfy her literal, physical needs...but Irving was quickly presenting himself as someone who could do just that, while thrilling her with the prospect of something new and different.

"Let's try a kiss here next, shall we?"

His lips sealed against her neck and pressed a warm, affectionate kiss to the spot, and as Bridgette squirmed beneath him, his tongue pushed forth and rolled along the spot, teasing her flesh to an even greater response.

She didn't even realize her hips were arching up to meet him until she felt one of his paw spreading over her tiny frame and pushing it back toward the bed.

"Just relax...if you tense up too much, I'll have to bind your legs, as well."

Bridgette felt him grinning against her cheek as he shifted the placement of his passionate touches, but she didn't know for sure if he'd really bind her legs, or if that was a hollow threat.

He'd gone far enough already that she refused to outright doubt him, but just hearing the idea made her wish that he'd pulled her panties down; the crotch of her favorite pair was starting to dampen, and they'd be soaked if they weren't moved away from her soon.

"And I'd much rather not," Irving continued. "If it were at all possible," he paused again, letting the cool brush of his nose tickle the bottom of her ear lobe, "I'd love to keep your legs spread, just like they are...and leave them that way until you can't help squeezing them around me."

Aaaaand they're soaked, Bridgette thought. Thought I'd be mad at him for taking so long, but he's...really getting me fired up. Is this what foreplay is supposed to be?

The firm, abrasive nature of the cord around her wrists was the perfect contrast to Irving's soft and delicate approach, giving Bridgette and even greater appreciation for the talent he had with his lips...but she couldn't imagine he'd move with such caution and grace the entire way through.

She was right to assume that, but she didn't expect to feel a hard, possessive nip at her earlobe; the squeak that passed her lips was too quick for her to bite back on.

"You know, I wanted to ask if you actually made that kind of sound when you were startled," Irving confessed. "But that approach was much more fun than just asking you..."

He didn't let her know that the nibble was just a distraction for something more until that touch presented itself: a single clawtip tapping against the inside of her thigh, just below the enticing fabric of her panties.

Her thighs, just from that, clenched down on his wrist...but she wasn't trying to stop him.

"Is this as far as we go tonight, Bridgette?" he asked, keeping a close watch on her face, even when his fingertips were drawing circles on the inside of her legs.

It was tough for her to do anything more than shake her head: this slow, teasing approach was new and powerful, leaving her mind blown and struggling to complete even the simplest of thoughts.

It was just what she wanted, and she couldn't let him stop now.

"Not that I t-think I'd beg you to, but even if I did...p-please don't stop," she whimpered to him, firing him up more than she could have realized with her cute, beleaguered breaths.

He was strong enough to pry her thighs apart forcefully, but he allowed her to tense up on him all she wanted as his digits worked past the edge of her panties, moving just around the damp, slick crotch.

For his confident and bold approach, Irving blinked to feel so much warm, natural arousal against his fur when he tugged that slim strip aside and felt it dripping between his digits. "Duly noted, little one."

Being entirely aware of the difference in size between them already, Bridgette was more than happy for another reminder of it, and the presence of a single fingertip against her soft, glistening folds was the perfect way for her to realize just how much larger Irving truly was.

Two of her own fingers were comfortable within her tight, rarely penetrated bodice, but just one of his forced her hips and back to arch once more, begging for more than she could properly handle.

"Just take it easy...tensing up won't do you any good," he reminded her. "Or do you need a little more help relaxing? I'm more than happy to provide that."

He was only easing the pressure of his fingertip against her entrance, allowing her slow, eager roll to guide the pace of any penetration, but he pushed her body to another gear when he finally moved down from the edge of her ear, tickling every inch of the side of her throat on his way toward her collarbone.

He could have stopped there, if he only wanted to see her tremble...and he couldn't help taking a brief suckle against the bone, seeing how close it rested to the surface of her skin.

The cup of his other palm on the underside of a breast, pushing it up and activating the nerve endings within it, however, pushed her past the point of quivers and trembles. Her entire body went taut against the bed, and finally, the quiet mouse allowed something more than a quiet whimper and a breathless squeak to escape her.

"Irving, that...t-that's...it's never been that sensitive before!" she cried out, yelling in a way that she only ever had when there was no one else in the room. "How did you...d-did you do that to me?"

"Should I stop?"

Her arms thrashed against her bondage: for a moment, she'd forgotten that she was tied up at all. "No... please don't stop..." she begged him politely, at first, but feeling his grip squeeze and roll around the base of her breast, she realized she was only starting to understand how blissful the attention to her chest could feel. "Oh, o-oh fuck...s-something's coming...s-suck my tits already, Irving!"

She was in no position to make a demand, or even to request a reprieve from the canine above her.

Were she with anyone else, they might have ignored her passionate cries and teased her further, thinking there was something more to be garnered from dragging out her near-orgasmic experience.

"Thought you'd never ask."

Her brassier was clinging tight to her breasts, but there was just enough slack and elastic for Irving to pull down on the cup and expose her small, cute nipple.

He refused to be ferocious with her just yet, but she didn't need anything overwhelming: even the warmth of his breath rolling over the tender bud was enough to bring it stiff, and the first seal of his lips around that spot stole her voice away, behind the efforts of a high-pitched squeal.

Rolling her hips into his palm, she forced the weight of his digit into her body and rocked herself on it, and no sooner than his palm pressed against her entrance, he felt her inner muscles clenching and seizing on his finger, as if she were milking an entirely different part of his body.

Gasping into her breasts and staying close throughout the moment, Irving felt her thighs crush his forearm and her ankles lock in place around his shoulder, forcing him to hold still, save for the slow, ticklish swirl of his tongue around her nipple, keeping it stiff and excited.

"Can't r-remember...t-the last time...I f-fucking came like this!" she panted, genuinely panicked with the way her mind continued to run away from her. She was lightheaded in the most blissful way, and for once, it wasn't from being overworked or denying herself a good night of sleep.

She was seizing up on the arm of a capable lover, fluttering an orgasm over his hand and watching him the best she could through wincing eyes...and she immediately knew she'd be working overtime that weekend, whether or not she went into the office.

**

Being freed of her bondage was a soothing experience for Bridgette: she'd shaken with such a violent release that her wrists were chafed, but Irving kissed each of them as he released her, and in return, she guided the tip of his finger to her lips, tasting the mess of her own juices and cleaning the plentiful warmth from his fur.

The embrace that followed was intense, but short lived, as a liberated Bridgette found her way onto all fours in the middle of the covers, and much to her delight, Irving was happy to take his place behind her and mount her properly, like the canine that he was.

"Sure it's not too much?"

Bridgette giggled. "I wasn't going to tell you if it was, but now that you're rubbing against me, Irving...it's going to be perfect."

For that, she wasn't putting any pressure on him. She was still coming down from the high of her last orgasm, and the warm, full presence of a canine member against her petals was just the thing she needed to keep the fires of her lust stoked and roaring.

"You already think that highly of me?" he asked, as his paws stroked down her lower back, tickling the tension out of her form before his grip settled on her small, slender hips.

"Perhaps I do," she answered, shivering with delight at the affectionate touch. "Perhaps you're just getting lucky over and over again, and I want you to let the bet ride."

"As far as I've come? I hope you don't blame me if I cash out a few of the chips," he played along. "And play it safe for my next bet."

"As long as you keep playing the table..."

Bridgette lowered her chest toward the bed, forcing her backside up toward Irving and sparing his back the strain of slumping down toward her.

She wanted everything to feel as natural as possible for him, as if this second round was a tribute and thanks to him, but as far as he was concerned, it was still his privilege to be spending this kind of quality time with a girl that he so admired: he made sure she felt that tenderness and care as his tip eased past the tight, but eagerly spreading folds of her womanhood.

"Trust me, Bridgette...I'm...n-not pulling out anytime soon," he assured her. "I don't think I can get away from the table...s-security feels pretty tight."

It was rare that the mouse allowed herself to come out of her shell and be silly; for her to do so in the bedroom was simply unheard of, but she was glad that the usually stoic Irving was indulging her, at least, that far.

She also didn't want him to wear out his voice, as happy as she was to hear him grunting with the effort of pushing into her tight, eager passage.

"Don't think I'll be letting you out anytime soon, no," she agreed. "And since you've got nowhere to be...maybe you give my hips a break and hold onto something else?"

There was no need for greater specifics. Pumping from the hip and rolling into her, Irving had just enough room and flexibility to reach a paw out to the clips of her bra, and with an impressive amount of dexterity, he removed the garment while pushing his length further into her depths.

Simple as that was to some people, Bridgette found it a talent worthy of respect and admiration...and in the moment, it spurred her to push back against the German Shepherd, meeting his slow, deep pace and comforting thrusts.

"Hold on t-tight," she whispered to him, knowing she'd lose herself to a chorus of moans if she spoke up. "I could use the extra warmth, baby..."

She was showing a side of herself to Irving that she never let out of the proverbial cage: sex was taking on a new, passionate sense of meaning for her, and the blissful weight of his cock within her became something more than the occasional throb and warm, heavy presence that it already carried.

It was all part of a greater experience, culminating thrust by slow, powerful thrust.

"With pleasure," he growled quietly at her as he stayed over her back. His arm wrapped around the side of her torso, cupping her bare, supple breast and comforting it with a full grope: he felt her flesh respond almost immediately, both in the pressure of a nipple at his palm, and the squeeze of her muscles around his length once more. "Are...a-are you close?"

An excess of warm, silky arousal was already dripping from her petals in an outward display of her climactic bliss, but the inner clench that came with it confirmed what she about to say, even before Irving felt himself crashing over the proverbial edge.

"_Yeeeeees..._y-yes, Irving," she whimpered, trembling under his weight and holding still for the sudden uptick in his pace. "I just hope you are, too...c-cause I can't..."

She trailed off and curled her long, thin tail around his lower back, keeping him close and holding still for his continued advances. He was displaying impressive endurance, and with his experience, he'd gathered the best angle of penetration to stroke Bridgette's most sensitive, tender flesh.

He also couldn't fend off her level of excitement any longer: his resistance crumbled against the continued, slick clench of her inner muscles on his tool, and finally, he added his own moisture to the mix, with enough volume that she actually felt it gushing into her womb.

"I...c-can't either," he stammered, struggling through the few words he was willing to offer. His paws tightened up on her breasts and his hips stayed firmly pressed to hers, but after that, he could only offer the rapid, desperate panting of his orgasm as a flood of his seed poured into her.

Her smaller frame simply couldn't handle a proper, canine volume: she was already gushing his seed back out and down the inside of her thighs as she continued to fill her, and around the berth of his knot, she felt the pressure of something she needed to experience...but that could wait until their next date.

That night, as she struggled to catch her breath, she looked back at Irving with a stare that conveyed her appreciation; it was time for him to get to know the real Bridgette, inside and outside of the bedroom.