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Bridgette wasn't the biggest fan of Valentine's Day, but that wasn't because of a lack of trying on the parts of other people.

Despite her disarming attitude and cute face, the young mouse had always been a bit socially distant, and growing up in the age of technology was perfect for her: she was just as excited to receive a Valentine's Day card from a character in one of the many online games she was playing at the time as she would have been to get one from a real person, and even though she was interacting with a program, she didn't care about the predictable nature of the text in a digital display.

Something about the electronic world was always easier for her to engage with, and it was only in her early twenties that she was starting to get over her disconnect with other organic beings.

"I can't believe you've never had a proper risotto before...but I'm honored to be the first person to ever make one for you!"

Thanks to Irving, Bridgette was going to spend her first Valentine's with a real date, and as far as he was concerned, even if they'd shared a dozen such days together, he was going to pull out all of the stops, and keep pulling them out to keep the young mouse impressed.

He was one of the first people that she'd given such an opportunity to, and she was grateful that the social experiment was paying pleasurable dividends...but Irving still had a long way to go if he was going to keep up with the marathon session that had been her simulated Valentine from the year before.

"Are you still comfortable, dear? You haven't had much to say this evening."

Opening her mouth was a dangerous game: for being a slender, dainty thing, Bridgette had a host of curse words queued up at the edge of her lips, but they weren't going to be offered in a moment of frustration or anger.

They were being held at the edge of a climax, and it wasn't the first that she'd been subject to that night...she was already on the verge of the second, and before the meal was actually finished, she had a feeling she was going to go through at least a few more.

She didn't know much about risotto, but she knew it took a long time to properly cook down and tenderize; Irving picking that as his dish for their date was no mistake.

"Your lips are quivering, you know."

Looking back over his shoulder with a knowing grin, Irving allowed his body to swoop every time that he should have a smaller adjustment: his backside was in full view and his tail was lifted, granting Bridgette to a show that was just as much of a treat for her as the meal to come.

The apron on the front of his body was a necessary move for his own safety, but that was all the canine wore for the special day.

That was slightly more than Bridgette was allowed, given the lack of panties, or anything at all below the waist. Her brassier was still in place, but it surely would have been left behind, if not for the dual purpose that it was serving on her modest bosom.

The cups of warm, red silk were perhaps a stereotype on such a romantic day, and the frilly lace of white that trimmed each one only added to that obvious play, but beneath their tight embrace was the quiet buzzing of a pair of vibrators, each one taped to her nipples. After simply putting the brassier on and feeling the weight of those toys against her tits, Bridgette found herself squirming...but now that she was nearing twenty minutes of sitting place, subjected to their touch, she was thrashing against the chair like a petulant child.

That she was at the dinner table made that even more appropriate.

"I'm not sure if this is going to help, but the fact of the matter is that it's adorable when you try to hold back lack that," Irving commented. "I can tell that you're trying not to cry out...that you're still worried that I might judge you for making an authentic, pleasured sound."

Bridgette thinned her lips, but she kept them sealed.

"I'm not going to do that," he assured her. Absently swirling the wooden spoon around in the pan, he kept stirring the reducing the risotto, keeping the heat low and taking his time with a task that allowed him to both create a delicious meal for her, and enjoy his own private version of dinner and a show. "I'm just going to try to keep myself restrained while I watch...fact is that I'm the one who needs to be tied down, honestly."

That she was so desired was still a strange concept for Bridgette: in the way that so many people had been oblivious to advances of affection before, she walked in their footsteps and took that role to new heights, having missed out on plenty of interested boys, and even a few girls, in her formative years.

With spare wires and cords wrapped around her arms, keeping them at her sides, and another set keeping her legs tied to the legs of the chair, spread open around the head of a vibrating wand, she couldn't possibly miss the message of Irving's love for her...and if she'd tried to be ignorant of it, he made sure that she would feel it.

Her toes wiggled, her fingers clenched, and her body shook against the back of the chair, but she was tied down with masterfully complex knots, forcing the old wires back into service and leaving her trapped in perhaps the most sensual position she'd ever known...and even when it was becoming too much for her to handle, she refused to admit it.

The corners of her thinned lips were starting to crack back open, and as her jaw gaped, she felt the onset of her second orgasm; she'd fought against it so actively that when she was finally forced to relax, it came all at once, flashing into existence with all the speed and intensity of a spotlight.

"If you e-ever give me that chance, I...I'm not sure...I'll be able to contain m-myself..."

Bridgette had a wild side about her, and one that went in many directions: she was just as comfortable holding the whip as she was feeling the sting of it against her flesh, but right then, she was just glad for the wires that kept her restrained.

One was settled just below her breasts, capturing her arms and keeping them at her sides...but she could squirm just fine, allowing her body to shake that wire up and down as she bucked at the chair for what little room of movement she had. A small puddle of juices was already settled between her legs, but it was starting to grow as her inner muscles clenched, manipulating her delicate folds against the head of the vibrating wand.

She was almost ready to squirt again, but without the ability to move, she just couldn't find that magical blend of purchase and relaxation to get there: only a tiny trickle of her liquid desire spilled over and rolled down the curve of her backside as she tried to throw her body into the toy.

Being restrained in such a way was, as she saw it, like being able to step up to the gates of heaven...but taking a few tries to squeeze between the bars to sneak in.

She was still in the middle of a squeeze when her clit rubbed just the right way against the rounded head of the toy, and at that, she could practically feel herself drowning from the inside: she was going to make a terrible mess of the floor, but not before her inner thighs were coated in the same.

"I'm not sure you'd be able to keep me down long enough to have much fun," Irving theorized. Given their difference in size, anything she'd do to overpower him would have to come at his behest, but the canine wasn't opposed to giving her a chance to try that someday...in the meantime, however, he was having far too much fun overwhelming her slender figure with wave after wave of blissful release, and as he turned fully away from the stove, the tent of his cock pushed up with a dampened spot against the back of his apron.

Seeing his stiffened member was just another treat for the already overloaded mouse, but her parted lips revealed a thin glisten of drool as she watched his cock with earnest. She could see every twitch of it as it continued to move with the rhythm of his pulse, and for a moment, she was able to pretend that the tapered, canine tip was the thing between her legs, instead of a meaningless toy.

For the first time that she could properly remember, she was more interested in the organic parts of another being than she was in one of her old favorites; she wasn't going to try and accept that reality in the moment, but as she stared, she felt even greater pleasure coming to the surface, and finally, Irving was allowed to see what she'd been keeping from him.

A lengthy gush sprayed from the depths of her womanhood, soaking the edge of the table in front of her and coating the seat of the chair with just a single spray...but that was only the start of the action.

Even a single touch from the canine would have extended her pleasure, but Irving gave himself the dinner to prepare as something of a backup, just in case he couldn't trust himself to keep his paws off of her.

He knew he would have lost his resolve if he didn't run the risk of burning the food, but it was all building to something even greater than the squirting release that had already begun.

If he reached out to her before she was properly ready, he might bring her to another climax, but she'd be missing out on the bigger picture; that was planned for dessert, but as Bridgette squirmed against her chair and bucked on it with such force that it scraped the floor, she couldn't properly imagine anything more intense than what she currently knew.

"I'd...t-try..."

She was going so long between responses that Irving nearly forgot what he'd offered to her, but that was all a silent form of credit to the kind of pleasure that he'd trapped her in.

In those gaps, though there were no words, there were plenty of sounds to fill the time...and Irving didn't have much of an ear for the risotto, as it came to a delectable, creamy state.

He was more concerned with the quiet pap of Bridgette's ass, bouncing against the surface of the chair and letting trickles of moisture spill beneath the supple flesh of her cheeks. So great was her orgasm that he could actually hear the gushing fluids as they splashed down on the floor, and even then, there was another cacophony to be had, when she finally allowed her temper to fly.

"I'd d-do everything to you, Irving," she claimed, starting bold and only going up from there. "I'd fuck you raw...f-fuck you as h-hard as I could..._nnnyes..._all because of w-what you're doing to me right now...it's f-fucking driving me crazy!"

Though he could hear the sensual frustration coming from the back of her throat, Irving could tell with a single glance that the mouse wasn't complaining about her predicament; she wasn't angry about it.

She just didn't know how to process such intense sensations, and she was a dedicated student: she'd sit there and allow the vibrations to wear her down to a quivering, thoughtless mess, if that was what it took for her to get used to it.

There were only a few more minutes until dinner would be ready, and in that time, she'd find the gumption to pull herself back from the toy just enough that she could manage a conversation...she felt compelled to tell Irving what she thought of his unique Valentine's gift.

"I'm sorry that it's causing you so much...shall we say, distress?" he asked, doing nothing to hide the tease in his voice. "But you sure don't seem to mind it in the least. If anything, I'd say that this is the happiest I've ever seen you..."

Though her brassier and matching thigh-highs gave her the look of a pin-up model, Bridgette's long, blonde locks were shaking into her eyes, the tresses worked into a mess. Her eyes could scarcely stay open without wincing, and sweat was beading down her cheeks as she strained, over and over again, but found there was no escape from the unstoppable pleasure of the wand.

She looked a bit of a mess, all told, but to Irving, she'd never looked more attractive.

"I dunno if happy q-quite captures the way that I feel right now," she muttered, struggling to find the right word. She was delighted, in some way, but she'd never known the joy of sex, thanks to the lack of genuine emotion that she'd ever put behind the act.

It was mechanical, in a way: she needed to get off from time to time so she could function without the weight of her lust bringing her down, and while she certainly enjoyed herself with her toys- the vibrating wand was an old warrior- there was an element missing that came from a living, breathing thing that wanted her to feel that delight, instead of a computer program or a character in an erotic game.

She was rapidly learning the value of having such a person in her life...and it didn't hurt that he knew how to cook, either.

Though it wasn't the center of her attention, Bridgette found even her nostrils were being tickled by the aroma coming from the pan, as the mushrooms within were coated by the smooth, buttery sauce of the risotto. If she was going to have to gasp and pant with such reckless abandon, it was a nice touch that she would be subjected to a pleasant scent, and the distraction was reaching so far that the pits of her stomach were starting to rumble.

That wasn't enough to keep her from butting right up to the edge of yet another climax, but it did buy her a few more seconds to roll and grind her mound against the toy, finding new life from Irving's encouragement and giving him a preview of what she could do when she was finally released.

For just a moment, Irving lost focus on the pan and pushed a little too hard with his spoon, knocking some of the rice onto the surface of the oven. His jaw dropped almost as much as Bridgette's had before when she was fighting off the onslaught of her squirting release, and seeing the way her inner muscles clenched with their desperate need, he almost broke down and left the oven...but this was a test in patience for both of them.

Bridgette was just finding ways to torture him back, even when she couldn't budge from her seat.

"For being such a wonderful host, you're really quite distracting at the dinner table," he claimed, doing his best to rope himself back in. "If I'm not careful, I'll end up drying out the pasta, and then we'll have to wait even longer to eat...unless you just wanted to get takeout."

It still impressed her that he was able to speak so casually of their meal when she was actively cumming yet again, but that adjustment worked well for her: she was still getting used to the emotional context of their connection as much as she was the overwhelming bliss...and handling all of that at once would have been too much.

As if he knew it, Irving wasn't talking about how much he loved her, or even how much he liked her. He simply let the toys speak for his appreciation of her bodice, and in cooking her a rich, wholesome meal, he was able to show his affection without running the risk of smothering her.

From where he stood, he could hear the rumble in her stomach, driven by a deep hunger and a continuous clench of her inner muscles: she was getting one hell of a workout from her unique seating arrangement, and after nearly an hour of sitting in a state of constant, vibrated bliss, she was on the verge of being too sensitive to enjoy herself anymore.

Everything had timed up perfectly , just as Irving planned it.

"This...t-this is too much...t-too fucking much!" Bridgette cried out in protest, even as her folds pouted once more, letting a brief trickle of attempted juices to spill down the length of her mound. "Feel like I c-can't even breathe...Irving...I t-think I'm gonna cum again! Fuck!"

Small, slender and helpless, Bridgette still found a way to command a certain level of respect and appreciation from the much larger canine.

He could have left her there to sit in a puddle of her own juices, forcing her to eat her meal that way...but he wasn't trying to degrade her, and he knew that sitting with a soaked bottom was no way to be comfortable in a chair.

"Irving, p-please..."

She was smiling, but there was genuine desperation in her face as she trembled against the chair, too exhausted to so much as quiver any longer. As her shoulders dropped and her toes uncurled, she looked genuinely happy with the situation...but there was still a sense of longing in her eyes that couldn't be placated with vibrators and toys.

Irving gazed back at her and turned off the oven, finding the food was cooked just in time for him to cradle the cups of her bra, switching off those vibrators and giving her the first of many reliefs to be had.

"I'd say you're adequately warmed up now," he murmured. Unable to resist at least showing her a little romance on the day of, he leaned in and smoothed the bangs away from her forehead, leaving a kiss on the spot; he was delighted when she blinked, wide-eyed to know the feeling of his romantic affections. "In fact, we probably took things a little too far...might wanna refuel a bit before we go any further."

She was bashful about it, as well, but she still used that little break to press a panting, breathless kiss to his cheek, while it was in range.

"F...feed me, daddy..."

A wink followed those words; she was still learning how to talk dirty to another person, but she was making fantastic strides.

**

Keeping slim wasn't difficult for Bridgette.

She was blessed with a fairly high metabolism, and even at that, she did her due diligence to keep herself in shape, with part of her oversized apartment converted into a workout area. A small set of dumbells, kettle bells, a stationary bike and a treadmill made for a setup that was more than she ever actually needed, but that night, she was already thinking about the slog that would be her walk the next morning.

Her tummy was stuffed with some of the creamiest risotto she'd ever eaten, but even then, she was already thinking about what she was going to have for dessert. The apartment was filled with aromas that she was never able to produce on her own, and thanks to Irving's impressive skills in the kitchen, she could enjoy the sweeter scents of vanilla and berries, mingling in the air and tantalizing her with the promise of what was to come after their dinner date was all wrapped up.

That she was able to think about food at all when she was resting on her bloated stomach was a testament to just how much culinary skill Irving wielded, but there was another, more pleasant distraction to take her mind somewhere else; she didn't know what movie was on anymore, and in her current posture, she didn't much care.

She only hoped that her legs would continue to hold out for her and stand strong, so Irving could share one of his other skillsets with her...and so far, she was enjoying it even more than their delectable meal.

"You know, I...I never r-really thought about t-taking it this slow before...and no one has ever r-really tried it with me like this..."

Irving smiled. "Finding it to your liking, then?"

"Definitely starting to notice the appeal, yes."

Small and short as she was, she was able to be lifted up slightly and draped over the arm of the couch without much effort on the part of the canine, but her tiptoes were determined to stay against the floor so she could dictate some of the pace of their act...not that Irving was doing anything she couldn't keep up with.

If anything, he was moving so slow and smooth that she felt like she might outwork him if she wasn't careful, but she could tell he wouldn't complain about that, and for her part, she was just enjoying the ride.

For someone who hadn't been treated to the best lovers, or the proper connection that could be shared in an intimate moment, this was something entirely new and exciting to her, even if the pace of the act was lazy and comfortable. It turned sex from something that had to be wild and passionate into something that could be enjoyed at any pace, all while enjoying the close comfort and warm embrace of someone who cared enough about you to share that moment, whether it was a minute, or a long, blissful hour.

Eager as she was to get to the panna cotta, Bridgette was perfectly fine with digging her tiny, stubby claws into the side of her own couch and her teeth into her lower lip as she rolled back against the surprisingly gentle German Shepherd.

"I really can't believe someone hasn't spent an evening with you like this...I know I used to be on that list, but there's a lot of people missing out," Irving claimed. "It's...if I'm not saying too much, it's just... really nice spending this time with you, Bridgette."

"You know, the funny thing is...most people didn't seem to care about being around for me longer periods of time. If anything, I always felt like I was just existing to fulfill an obligation for others."

"How so?"

"In case it wasn't clear, I'm enjoying myself...q-quite a lot, really," she stammered, feeling the full depth of his canine member in her quivering passage. "But I'm not being forced to rush to the finish to keep up with someone else...and y-you're not rushing to the finish just so you can get away from me again..."

"I think you've been misinformed of how a one-night stand is supposed to feel, you know."

"Maybe...it just always seemed odd to me that people would spend what's supposed to be the prime of our ability to connect in the shortest window possible, and then, just...run off like that when you're still coming down from the highs of a climax. Even the erotic games I play have more considerate partners than that...just sucks that laptops aren't all that cozy to cuddle up with."

Irving chuckled. "I'm not quite as enduring as a laptop, I'm afraid...but I think you'll find me a lot more comfortable to snuggle up with."

"Does this count as snuggling?"

With his hips drawing back, Irving paused to consider the possibility...and as he rolled his body forth and came to rest against Bridgette's slender bodice once more, they shared a quiet, impassioned gasp, worrying less and less about that answer as they worked.

"...Let's say that it does," he answered. "It's close enough, anyway..."

"W...works for me..."

The mouse was still learning to embrace just how much more pleasure she could feel when she accepted the passions of another person as much as she did their flesh, and when the two blended together in the way that Irving had shown her, she actually struggled to handle the waves of bliss that rolled through her.

Starting at the peak of her pubic mound and spreading wide from there, she could feel the beginning of another climax, but knowing that she didn't have to do anything more to make Irving happy or to keep up with his pace kept her from putting any undue pressure on herself.

She didn't have to worry about him running off and leaving her with a job to finish, or worry about him finishing too fast and falling asleep on her with the same problem.

At that moment, on the most stereotypically romantic day of the year, Bridgette was finding herself truly loved, beyond the pleasures that her body was able to offer to someone else.

If she were more emotionally in tune with herself, she might have allowed the momentary tears in the corners of her eyes to flow...but she couldn't imagine any need for greater moisture than what was already dripping down from her legs and soaking the inside of her thighs.

_Because who the hell cries in the middle of sex, right?_She wondered, keeping the thought to herself and pretending that her brief sniffle was just another bliss-filled gasp; in the heat of the moment, it easily could have been either one, but Irving was only concerned with holding her close and keeping her happy.

That made it even harder to hold back the emotional outburst, but something greater still was starting to dictate her actions.

Her body needed one more release before it would allow anything else to take center stage.

"Speaking of...b-being close enough..."

"Trust me, baby," Bridgette let the word slip, rarely calling any other living being such an affectionate term, "I can feel it...y-you don't have to slow down for me."

It wasn't just the level of skill with which he moved his hips, but the concern and courtesy that Irving approached Bridgette that made her feel so special. He could have easily plowed forth and buried his knot inside of her without any warning, and surely, the fantasy had crossed his mind before, but he knew that they weren't quite there yet...

...If that time ever came, he'd be delighted to drive it into her with all the force he could muster, but until then...he was happy to simply grind his hips against her backside and slap his body onto the back of her thighs, pushing her further and further into the deflating cushions until there was nowhere for either of them to go, except for to crash into each other.

Even at such a delicate pace, the size of the canine's knot was a difficult thing for the slender mouse to take, but she had a variety of toys that would simulate such a thing.

After that experience, the simulation would finally pale in comparison to reality, completely flipping her existing paradigm.

"If it's too much-

"N-no, no! Please...k-keep going...push it the r-rest of the way in!" she replied, her voice wavering and fading into a bed as she clung to the cushions. "Oh...goodness, Irving!"

Knowing everything he'd learned about her over the shorter months of a cozy winter, Irving had taken his time and respected her boundaries; he'd come to learn what a rare thing it was for her to call a lover by name in the middle of the act.

Hearing his own name in her high, orgasmic voice was such a delight that he couldn't keep his pace from ramping up. It was only for a moment, but his weight lowered against her and his hips pounded forth, sinking the full weight of his knot past the deliciously tight resistance of her soaking folds.

With a quiet schlip filling the air and the squeaking gasp that followed, Bridgette realized just how much the fake sounds she'd heard in all of her games failed to capture the incredible reality of being properly filled with a canine's knot...or how much the toy failed to properly represent the species.

Nothing could replicate the deep, internal pulse: feeling Irving's heartbeat through the tip of his cock and the warm, slick weight of his cum splashing around in her womb was beyond what her wildest dreams could have captured, and perhaps the greatest gift of all was the way that he worked at her pace, allowing her to ramp herself up to that moment and experience it at her behest.

Her tiptoes lifted from the floor and curled as the driving canine rested his weight against her lower back, sealing his knot within her and trapping the already impressive load. With each quiet pant of his breath against the back of her ear, and every deep, internal throb of his member, forcing out another second of her climax, she could feel the strange, technophilic trance that she lived in being whisked away, little by little.

As her own juices trickled down to a puddle on the floor and her long, thin tail curled around the canine's back, she still wasn't sure what to make of what she was feeling; it was new and exciting, but she couldn't tell just yet if it was love or not...her understanding of that sensation was, like so many other people, put on too high of a pedestal to comprehend it at face value.

Whatever she was feeling, beyond the continuous flood of warmth and quivering delight, she wanted to feel more of it...and she wanted to feel it with him.

"You're...s-still trembling inside..." Irving commented, the steam of his voice rolling over her rounded ear and forcing it to twitch anew.

She nodded slowly, feeling a tremor run through her entire body. "And you're still cumming, b-big guy..."

"Side effects of being a canine, I'm afraid. We're gonna be like this for a while..."

"Is the dessert gonna melt?"

"It shouldn't."

"Good, c-cause...it feels like I just might..." she admitted. "Thanks for carrying the weight for a little while, Irving."

Suspended on his spurting length and awash with delight, Bridgette never fathomed she'd end a Valentine's Day with such a feeling of satisfaction.

"Thanks for giving me a chance to, Bridgette..."