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The small tanks suspension shakes Jeans wolf bones, he can barely think even at the slow pace that the machine is crawling through this seemingly endless French forest. Totally unbuttoned the AMR 33 drives carefully past oaks and pines. The commander standing up out of his hatch as his driver, Marcel, half leans out of his open hatch. Yelling up at him over the sound of the motor, "You think these woods ever end, boss?"

Rolling his yellow eyes at the lack of professionalism from his friend he considers kicking him in the square of the back to speed up, but decides against it. "You know, Marcel, you're a lucky son of a bitch. Some other officer would have eaten you for lunch talking to them like that." The coyotes laughter pierces up through the rumble of the 8-cylinder engine, 84 horsepower not being nearly enough to mute the amused sentiment of the driver.

With a horrendously sudden movement the vehicle lurches forward, down into a small ditch, Jean barely catches himself from being gut-punched by his open armored door. Before either of them have time to really recover the small tracks eat dirt and the vehicle scurries up the other side and onto a hard packed road. Marcel stopping the vehicle dead and idling the engine.

The driver grunts, rubbing at his skullcap "I'm so glad for this helmet, you know? This thing just tried to take my head off. This suspension is the most god forsaken thing, I've rode in smoother wagons." This time its Jeans turn to laugh at his friend, "You know if you were sitting back and letting me guide us you might not end up needing a visit to the company dentist."

"Yeah yeah, I might do that one day," the coyote lies, "Left or right?"

Holding position for a few moments before Jean shrugs and quips, "Right, I guess. It's better than the wrong way." Marcel obliges, the little tank turning almost fluidly as he steers it to the right and puts the pedal to the metal. Poor Jean nearly falling out of the turret as he does, all 34 kph that the little machine can muster at the best of times being shown off as it streaks down the road with a rooster tail of dust being thrown up behind it.

The two canine cowboys continue their sprint down the road for almost an hour, the sun going slowly behind the horizon. As they pull up to the first farmhouse they've seen the small headlight is the only reason they can even really still see the road before them. The skunk farmer and his daughter are standing out front, clearly trying to figure out what the loud noise coming down the road was.

Tracks clacking as they roll up to the farm folk Jean hollers a greeting, "Excuse me, good sir, do you have a telephone? We're quite lost and need to find our way back to the depot." The old farmer laughs, "Goodness son, that thing is so fast! Yes, yes, we just recently got one a few years ago. You two do come in. My name is Henri, and this is my daughter Annette."

Quickly pulling the tankette out of the road Jean and Marcel kill the engine and dismount, trying to straighten up their uniforms some. Almost immediately Jean takes note of the farmers daughter. The shapely woman absolutely fills out her dress, almost spilling over the top of her bodice. She immediately notices his looks and speaks up, "Do you boys need some water? Here." She smirks directly at Jean, eyes taking him in just as forwardly as he had her before she goes to a well pump and fills the bucket.

Offering them the water to clean up some as her father goes inside to hook up the phone while Annette stands near Jean, wetting a small towel she seemed to have pulled from her dress and reaching up to wash his face. "Hey," Marcel pipes up, "Me next." Looking over at him as she carefully cleans the dust off the officers face and scowls, "There are more towels inside, why don't you go get one? Maybe my father will help you clean up." The cavalry officer lets her continue to wipe down his wolfish muzzle, the two never exchanging a word as she cleans his face. Totally ignoring the third wheel as he pulls out his own towel and wipes himself down. Annette asks quietly, "Are you stationed near here, sir?" Jean just nods, flushing at he looks at her. "That is good, yes? You won't have far to go then."

Returning from inside his home the old farmer calls his daughter, urging her to come back inside with the lost vagabonds so that they can make use of his telephone. It doesn't take very long for Jean to call up the depot, being transferred through to his commander, a normally stern man. Accepting the verbal cut downs over the phone for a time before he explains that his tank is fine, they need some gasoline but are near a village.

Curses loud enough for the whole room to hear come from the depot commander, the other 3 tanks in Jeans squadron all had breakdowns, the fact his was still mobile was a shock. Ordering Jean to stay put for the night and then to head on to the village in the morning to meet a transport that would ferry them and the wretched tank back. Before Jean can even get a word in the line goes dead. Hung up on.

Sighing as he hangs up the phone and turns to the farmer, "Sir, may we spend the night here? We can sleep with the vehicle and will stay out of your way." The farmer smiles and shakes his head, "No, no. I refuse to let you sleep out in the open. I don't have a spare bed but you are both more than welcome to the hay loft in the barn. I can give you some petrol in the morning when you head out."

After a short meal everyone retires Marcel and Jean walk out into the dark to get to the barn, a large flashlight shining the path. "Boss, she's into you." Marcel jibes, elbowing his commanding officer in the ribs as he the coyote takes a final drag of a cigarette. Oomphing from the hit and laughing Jean jokes back, "Yeah, shame for you she doesn't have a sister. Or four, knowing you."

Entering the barn and letting Marcel climb up the ladder into the loft first Jean speaks up, "Hey, I'm going to double check our suspension. I really don't want to have to walk to that little village tomorrow."

"Yeah, whatever sir. Have fun with her. I'm going to get some sleep." Marcel lets out another rude laugh before Jean can get back outside, his mind trying to decide if he had meant the tank or the daughter. Going over to the machine and leaning down he begins to check it over, looking mostly for damage that may get worse on their trip in the morning.

The sound of a soft feminine cough behind the wolf nearly scares the fur off of him and he smacks his head against the underside of the tracks as he bolts upright.

* * *

Dropping his flashlight as he turns about Jean stares transfixed. The glow casting shadows over Annette as she stands there giggling at him just a few feet away, her large fluffed tail swaying about happily as she teases him, "I was hoping I'd scare you, is your head okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be okay, is there something wrong Miss Annette?" The young officers brows furrow, trying desperately not to look down at her half exposed chest, "I wasn't being too loud, was I?"

She shakes her head and steps closer, being shorter than him by a fair amount, all it does is offer up an even deeper angle down her dress, "Tell me," she says too casually as she reaches out to rearrange his overalls and pat his chest, "Is there a Miss Cavalry Officer?" She's closed the distance far more rapidly than he ever expected, nearly pressing against him as she finishes her question. Big green eyes barely lit by the flashlight glimmering as they stare up at him.

Swallowing hard and blushing before he speaks softly, "No, Miss Annette. Are you putting in an application for the position?" She nods and lifts up onto her tip toes, closing her eyes as she presses her mouth to his. It only takes another moment before his arms wrap around her and the two stand embraced against the side of the little war machine. Tongues and hands darting, swapping saliva and nibbling on each others lips.

Taking a moment to catch her breath Annette breaks the lip-lock, huskily probing with a simple question, "When do you think you can come back?" Shaking his head in answer Jean answers truthfully, "I don't know, maybe next week? I'm not that far away."

Biting her own lower lip and peering away from him momentarily the skunkette steels herself before looking him dead in the eyes, "I'm going to give you a good reason to come back then." Stumbling over his words as she moves to pull the zipper of the overalls down. Clearly scandalized as he asks, "What are you doing?"

But it's rapidly clear, and before he can do much about it one of her soft hands has invaded the clothing, taking his manhood in her soft grip as she nuzzles into his neck, "Claiming you before some other girl does." Her cool paw on his member causing him to jump slightly as she gently pulls it free from his undergarments. With a gasp of understanding he mumbles rapidly in her ear, "Here? What if your dad sees?"

Without a care in the world she rubs her face against his neck, getting comfortable against him as her fingers get a better grip on the canine manhood rapidly reaching full size in her palm. With quiet excitement she softly responds, "He won't, he sleeps on the other side of the house."

Accepting the answer Jean leans back, half sitting on the metal covering the top of the track-way. The two locking lips again as her hand gently squeezes, pumps and teases his twitching cock. As this goes on his mouth trails down her neck and he buries his face into her warm bosom, both hands squeezing the stark white furred cleavage together as he leaves more affectionate kisses on supple mounds.

It only takes a few moments before his hands have freed one side from the tight bodice. He swiftly pops her erect nipple into his mouth, nibbling and rolling his tongue around the bud as he does so. Her own gasp at the sudden pleasure causing him to let out a single laugh of victory. All the while her soft fingers continue to stroke. Sometimes lightly, sometimes with a full grip at his base, and sometime just teasing at the tip.

The exposed skunk pulls back, her new lovers seat putting her eye to eye with him as she releases his sex. Bringing a finger to her mouth in a smooth motion, her tongue to lap a drop of pre-cum from the fingertip. "You taste good." she purrs before lowering herself to a kneel. "Give me my prize, Mister Officer."

Standing slightly he looms over her beside his ride, wolf dick directly in her face as she takes it into both hands and begins to pump harder. The work causing soft grunts to escape from her as she attempts to rapidly put him over the edge. Eyes closing as he reaches his climax the wolf leans his own head back and lets out a low groan.

Her hands tighten and she points him down at her chest, the first coating of spunk throwing a thick rope across her half bared breasts before she tilts him up to coat her face. As the final few spurts begin to signal his finish Annette leans in, wrapping lips around his tip and suckling to force every drop out. Her tongue rolls about, and his eyes roll into the back of his head.

Gasping for breath after her servicing of him Jean looks down at her and smiles, she already has a little wet towel out and is cleaning herself up. Before he knows it she's standing to plant a soft kiss onto his cheek, "Jean, you will come back soon. I will write you out our address in the morning, so you have a place to send mail to."

Standing there with his overalls undone he watches slack jawed as the thick young woman fixes her dress and then walks away. Large fluffy tail swaying with her hips as she goes back into the dark farmhouse.

"Marcel will never believe this," he grumbles as he pull his clothing back on, ever so careful not to get his still half chub caught in the infernal machinations of the zipper.

* * *

The next day the Driver and Commander wake with before the sun, readying their tank before the farmer and his daughter even make it out. They sit there shooting the shit with one another in the wee hours of the morning. Jean was right, Marcel doesn't believe him at all. There's just no way, he says, that an absolute goody two shoes like Jean could ever nail a woman as beautiful as this Annette.

The perfumed letter that the daughter passes to Jean just before they leave changes the coyotes tone entirely.