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They were only a little over a mile into the race, but Bridgette was already proud of Irving for sticking with the training program.

It wasn't an easy decision for her to make, but little by little, she was trying to embrace the outside world a little bit more; that world was what brought someone like Irving into her life in the first place, and it wasn't fair of her to discount the rest of it because of a few bad experiences.

"You've really been taking this seriously, haven't you? You're half my height and you're dusting me."

With Irving by her side almost every time she trained, Bridgette thought she knew what to expect of his pace, but she'd done a little extra practice on her own: she was over prepared, but she didn't mind slowing down a little bit for her boyfriend to match her pace.

"You're holding up just fine, Irving," she assured him. "Not like we're trying to win this thing, right? We just wanted to finish, and that's exactly what we're gonna do."

The jogging trails through the local park were wide enough for large swaths of runners to stay side by side, but as people figured out their pace for the day, most ended up behind Bridgette and Irving; the few runners that were taking the race as seriously as they could were already way out in front.

It was all at once a perfect and terrible time for Bridgette to get a tiny whiff of the natural scent of the larger canine...but that subtle tickle of amber mingled with the honeysuckle bushes that lined the sides of the trail, and a mouse that was having no trouble keeping herself clean was becoming all too aware of a different source of sweat on her body.

"If you really think I've got it in me, I'll do my best to keep up," Irving offered, refusing to quit on her, even if he was only walking by the time they reached the finish line. "I really am proud of you for going out on a limb and dedicating yourself to this so completely, though."

"I used to love cross country running when I was in high school," Bridgette admitted. "Was a great chance to spend some time in nature and clear my thoughts...but once I moved further into the city, I didn't enjoy running on the sidewalks as much, and treadmills just don't do it for me. Some things can't replace the genuine article, y'know?"

There was an entire network of side trails throughout the large, spacious park: every few seconds, the pair were running past another branch, but the race itself was being run on the main arteries, with the intention to make the route as simple as possible.

Most of the runners had an appreciation for that; it was easier to stay focused on pacing and breathing when you didn't have to worry about navigating the winding pathways throughout, but Bridgette and Irving had tried almost all of them in their time leading up to the big event.

When she started drifting off, toward a path that was mostly overgrown with higher grass and taller ferns, Irving tried to lean against her to guide her back toward the middle.

"You...y-you okay, sweetheart? You hurt your leg?"

"No, my leg's fine," she insisted, continuing to lean against him. She couldn't overpower him by that sense alone, but it was obvious that she was trying to take the path less traveled...and one they'd never tried, at that.

"Are you sure? Cause...you're basically running _against_me right now."

"Sweet of you to be so concerned, really."

She still didn't directly answer the question, but she was giving him such a grin that he couldn't help his curiosity: she hadn't mentioned any plans to cheat along the way, but as they dipped into the taller grass and through the thicker trees, they were moving far away from the main trails.

"You're not planning on cheating on this race, are you?" He asked. The disapproval in his voice was met with a roll of her eyes, but he didn't quite have the lungs to keep questioning her, while keeping up with her faster pace. "W...wait...w-what's the deal?"

The trail was overgrown to the point that it was obvious that they'd taken it: grass was matted down by their presence, and along the way, Irving couldn't help wondering if there was a good reason that the trail had been blocked off, but it wasn't just the speed with which Bridgette moved that convinced him she was up to something.

It was the comfort and familiarity that she took with her strides that made him believe she'd been down that path before, though he couldn't imagine when she would have done so.

"Bridgette, where...w-where the hell a-are we going?"

It was nearly a quarter mile down that pathway before Irving saw any sort of opening, and by the time he caught up to the mouse, he was given a display that would have answered almost all of his curiosities.

The very first answer was provided about her intentions: he entered a small, overgrown clearing with some old, rugged picnic benches around what used to be a campsite, and on the edge of one of those tables, Bridgette was already half naked, her shorts dropped to her ankles and her backside wiggling against the aged boards.

"...G...gimme a second to catch my breath, b-but...I think you know what...I'm gonna say..."

"That you're sorry for even daring to think that I'd cheat?" she asked.

She was giggling; he knew she wasn't serious about it, but he was glad to have that extra bit of assurance about it, as he walked away from the edge of the clearing and approached the table.

They were far out enough that he couldn't hear the thundering steps and labored breathing of the other runners. His only focus would have been Bridgette regardless, but to know that they had some sense of privacy in the wilderness was a relief: he didn't want to have to make a hasty exit and find a new place for them to go jogging in the weeks that followed.

"You don't seem like the type, but when you picked a trail that isn't even on the map-

"Anymore," she cut in. "It used to be, some odd years ago...and it was my favorite trail. Can you see why?"

"It's just become my favorite too...and I'm sure you know why," he answered, chuckling. "You seem familiar with this place, though. Am I wrong to assume that?"

"Not at all. This was my favorite trail to run when I was fresh out of high school, and even back then, it was pretty well abandoned. Made for a great place to hide when I was going through tough times..."

"Having your shorts around your ankles is a tough time?"

"I know you can't fully appreciate what it's like when a heat cycle hits, but when it hits...sometimes it hits hard , big guy. Can only spend so much time in the shower before your parents start to get suspicious."

The idea of the chance meeting they could have had when Bridgette was younger crossed his mind: Irving wasn't sure that he would have had the courage to say or do something, had he come across her in the middle of her assumed privacy.

As her boyfriend in the here and now, with the veil of trees around them to provide reasonable accommodations, there was no way he could pass up on the opportunity to help her in a way that he wished he could have long before.

"I'll have to catch you like that, one of these times...but since I've caught you here..."

He paused, but to his surprise, she kicked the shorts from her legs and spread her thighs further apart, revealing just how much natural arousal had gathered at her petals in such a short time.

"Don't be mistaken, love. I'm the one that's caught you here, and if you really think I'm gonna let you finish that race without giving me at least a pair of orgasms, you're completely out of your mind."

She knew he wouldn't turn down that chance, but she didn't expect him to wear such a confident smirk as he approached the edge of the table.

"And if you really think I'd bother with finishing a race when my baby's in such a terrible heat...I'm a little insulted."

"Insulted?"

"You know your needs come first, Bridgette."

She believed those words even before he said them, but that didn't stop her from taking things a step further: two eager fingers came to rest along the sides of her womanhood, easing the petals apart and revealing the tender, slick warmth that she knew he wouldn't be able to resist.

"Very sweet of you to say such a thing, but I'm afraid I can't get up right now to show my appreciation...you'll just have to come s-show me...that you're a man of your word."

They knew how to push each other's buttons so skillfully by then that Irving could have expected her to say such a thing, but the expectations didn't take away from the experience at all.

If anything, it was akin to finding someone who knew just how you liked your favorite meal to be prepared: it was something to look forward to from the start, and when you finally had that first morsel in your maw, coating the roof of your mouth and blessing your tongue with the familiar delicacy...

...It was something that never dulled, as far as Irving was concerned.

"Well, my tongue was getting a little dry from breathing so heavy," Irving confessed. "It was awfully thoughtful of you to get me something to drink, like this."

She wasn't anticipating the extra warm up: she hardly needed it, aroused as she already was, but that didn't stop her toes from curling _before_his tongue was taking that first, glorious taste of her heated sex.

"I still think you just like being my messy boy...but if you get a little bit on your chin, I'm...n-not gonna complain..."

Her fingertips couldn't sit on the sidelines any longer: they immediately came to rest on the hood of her clit, getting ahead of Irving's attention and swirling the wide, eager circles that he would have used, if his thumb was there, instead.

She couldn't simulate the weight and warmth of his tongue, however...and her toes wished they had something more to curl into when the muscle finally pressed against her folds and eased them apart.

"You know I love it when you call me that."

" Prove it."

Bridgette had been coming out of her shell for the better part of the year that they'd been dating, but she was never as bold as she was when her heat cycle started. The fact that they were about to do something in such a public, risky place wasn't lost on her, but she didn't have the self-control left to turn back, and she wasn't going to let Irving be the voice of reason.

One taste of her womanhood was enough to drown out that voice, and the grip of her toes around the back of his neck made sure he wasn't going anywhere until he was ready to replace his tongue with something much firmer.

"N-not a bad start, baby...but if you really think one little lick is...g-gonna get the job done..."

He wasn't glaring up from between her legs, but the canine couldn't help the intensity in his stare as he gazed up: the carnivorous beast simply couldn't help looking as though he was making a meal of her, and she didn't mind that in the least.

She didn't realize that she was on the verge of letting a tiny squirt gush across his tongue, but a series of eager, proper licks from the wide, heavy muscle were already proving more than she could take.

Her heat was coming on quick...and though it was just a tiny streak, there was a shift in Irving's expression when he noticed the excess moisture spilling toward the back of his maw.

"Mmm..._mmhm..._w-what was that you were saying about one lick, cutie?"

She was too busy gripping the edges of the picnic bench to work her own clit, but she was silently grateful for the same: she would have been a little too sensitive for what was coming next, if she'd been too greedy with her digits.

"That was a lot more than one lick," she argued, but there was no complaint in her voice. If anything, she was delighted to see the little, messy strand of her juices still dangling from his tongue when Irving finally stood up; to his further delight, the picnic bench lifted her smaller body to the point that he could stand right at her level and pound into her without adjusting his posture. "Not that I've got a problem with you...l-losing count like that..."

"You sure don't seem to mind," Irving agreed. "And hopefully you won't mind me being a little selfish?"

His shorts were already coming down as he stood, and the impressive length of his full, canine cock hung over Bridgette's stomach, as if to show her the path that was soon to be carved out within her...but she'd known his member plenty of times before, and how much of it she was able to comfortably take.

She didn't care much about comfort, right then.

"If you're really calling yourself selfish for finally putting that fucking cock in me, you need to actually try being selfish, for once," she teased. "I'm starting to wonder if you ever have been."

"Plenty of times," Irving suggested. "At least, that's how it feels."

For being so heated, she couldn't quite embrace the romance that she felt, in that moment: he was such a pleaser that even when he was servicing her, he thought he was being selfish...and she could tell.

"One of these days, I'm gonna have to sit you down and properly spoil you, then," she offered to him, wearing such a wide grin that he wondered if she had even greater plans for after the race. "But...one thing at a time, right?"

"Good idea," he concurred. "And what's next?"

"Well, you can keep dripping precum on my tummy if you really want, but...if you don't shove that cock in me right the hell now , I'm gonna jump off this table and take it."

There was no wrong answer: so often, that was the case when Irving found himself bedding with Bridgette, but he couldn't help proving her assumptions to be true.

He was a pleaser, and proud of the same...and that same pride extended to his work, as he pushed down slightly on the shaft of his length, allowing the tip of his cock to glide between her soaking, sensitive petals.

"You're not the one who needs to work on their endurance, if that race was any indication," Irving mentioned. "I know this is a little less than a traditional training method, but I get the feeling you'd approve of my giving it a try."

"You have no idea."

His length jabbed forward, penetrating her womanhood and forcing her to bite her lip: they had some privacy, but if she cried out as loud as she could right from the start, they'd be attracting attention sooner or later.

"Oh...I think I have...s-some idea..." he stammered, finding it nigh impossible to speak when he was even halfway into her tight, gripping passage. "I'd love to have a little...m-more of one..."

"Gimme a little more of that cock, and you can have whatever you want."

Her voice wasn't broken up by the pace of his thrusts or the depth of her moans: she was absolutely confident in her words, and though her heat was bringing out new depravity, he could tell that her offer was sincere.

When he had a moment to collect his thoughts, he'd need to think of something truly unique for her to do, but just as they'd said before, they'd go one thing at a time.

Right then, the only thing was the greater depth of his thrusts as he allowed her body to properly adjust to his greater size: a mouse simply couldn't take such a massive canine without a moment to adjust, no matter how power the onset of her heat was.

Once she could feel her vaginal passage _properly_welcoming him in, though...

"I know I said a little more, but you...y-you're gonna start fucking me like you mean it now, right?"

She'd never challenged him in such a way before, and she knew she'd be sore for a plethora of different reasons if she pushed him too far, but that was just what she was after: if she had to finish the race with his cum spilling down her legs and her stride in a deep, wide bow, she would be_delighted_ to do so, just as long as it meant she'd get to feel it in the first place.

"You gonna draw a crowd if I do that?" he asked, seeing that adorable pinch of her teeth against the billowy flesh of her lower lip. "Cause I don't think you can keep it down too much longer..."

"Then make it quick and fuck me harder ," she said, though her voice was closer to an order than it was a suggestion. "I'm already about to cum...but I'm not gonna leave you hanging, baby..."

"You never have before," he agreed, feeling a softening to his smile as she made such an offer. "I've got no reason to doubt you, Bridgette."

"Good...f-finish rearranging my guts already, then..."

It was the first pump he gave where his full weight was behind the push, and on cue, Bridgette seized up around his shaft and released her first full orgasm: the tiny squirt before was simply a precursor, but this one was of a proper volume, and the streak of her feminine ejaculate stained his tank top; Irving never thought to take it off before they got started, but he was proud to wear the mark of her scent all the way to the finish line, if they ever made it there.

Actually finishing the footrace was far from Bridgette's concerns anymore, but just as Irving feared, she wasn't able to keep her voice down when the tip of his tapered, canine member pushed against her deepest reaches and forced another messy streak of cum from her body.

"Fuck...f-fucking making me squirt...y-you just love being a messy boy, don't you? Mrnnnf!"

There was no hushed whisper to her voice: it was an overt, powerful cry that echoed through the woods, but Irving couldn't find the restraint to slow his pace when her inner muscles were fluttering with such a rapid pace.

If she couldn't control herself any longer, he wasn't going to bother...but he knew they were racing the sound of their own voices, as he pummeled her into the table and leaned his weight into the ground.

I know everything happens for a reason, but...goodness...if you'd only ever found me like this when I was younger, Bridgette thought, quietly pretending that this was their first time together, fulfilling a fantasy that she had every time she masturbated in that clearing. I never would have been able to say no...I would have opened my legs that much wider, just like I did today...

Wide as her thighs were spread, she wanted to lock them around his lower back, but she wasn't able to make the seal before he pulled back, catching her off guard.

"...Still working on that endurance, babe?"

She blinked, seeing that her heat was having just as much of an effect on him; she'd gotten away with one orgasm, aiding with her self-control just slightly...but she was ramping up for a second one, even before she knew what he had in mind.

"Endurance and technique," he suggested, still panting between his impassioned words.

He loved watching her breasts heave with the weight of his thrusts, but her tiny body allowed for a few unique poses, and this was the first time he could recall her torso being so perfectly supported before him: he flipped her smaller frame with ease, putting the swell of her rump in front of him...but it was the fronts of her thighs that took his grip, as he lifted her toward his crotch.

"That's...t-that's a new one, for sure," she agreed, feeling her breasts press against the boards of the aging picnic bench. Her paws tried to push up, but she was still quivering under the weight of her first climax, and feeling his length against her womanhood once more, the second, impending release kept her pinned, just as much as his posture. "Fucking hell...Irving...y-you've never taken me from there before...oooohfuckthat'sgood..."

The angle of the thrusts and the upward strikes of his cock were enough to put Bridgette right back into the peak of her heat: her first orgasm, despite the mess, was completely ignored in favor of the second one, and a greedy little mouse raked her claws against her old, wooden friend as her favorite canine lifted her legs around his sides and held her steady.

"Sounds like I'm g-gonna have to try this one more often...f-feels like it, too...fuuuuuck!"

His claws raked over her thighs, just high enough that her shorts would cover up the marks; she'd be glad to admire them in the privacy of her apartment later, but there was a certain reality to what they were doing...and in the best possible way, Irving was appealing to all of her lewdest sensibilities.

She was grinning at the idea of the other racers seeing them and knowing what they'd done, no matter what consequences that would bring.

"We're coming out here once a week, heat or not...and you are bending me over this table and f-fucking my brains out...o-over and over again..." she demanded, unafraid to let the depths of her need shine through, even when she could barely speak between the powerful slaps of his hips against her inner thighs. "And maybe, when we're done here...y-you can finish the race, if you want."

He couldn't fathom crossing the finish line right then, for any number of reasons, but they'd been training for such a long time that he'd gladly walk with her to the finish; that would be all the steam they had left, once he was finally done humping her.

Mounting her as properly as he could, he let her legs drop, watching them dangle over the edge of the picnic bench: paws settled on hips and his length stretched her womanhood as thoroughly as it could, until the depth of his thrusts was enough for his sack to slap against the sensitive space of her most sacred flesh.

She hadn't intended to put him in chastity for the sake of their training, but those full, heavy orbs were striking her with enough weight that she knew she'd been neglecting his needs: she couldn't wait to make up for that lost time when they made it back home.

"Or you can just...f-finish in me," she offered, knowing the risks of her heat cycle. "You wouldn't leave a little mouse in need like that, would you? Especially when she's...b-begging to be bred?"

All along, Bridgette was fighting against her own arousal for a sense of control, but no matter how far off script she went, she knew exactly what she was doing: she'd manipulated him in a way that she knew he'd love, and just sliding that little phrase in at the end was the final, excessive nail in an already littered coffin.

It was a shocking thing all the same to feel the pulse in his sack and the corresponding throb of his shaft within her, but to actually know the pressure of his cum as it flooded her womb was a _heavenly_thing, well worth the subtle scrapes and burns that she felt on her paws from contending with the aged picnic table.

"Keep begging," he growled low, leaning his full weight onto her back and biting the scruff of her neck. "It's...s-so much fucking hotter when you do..."

She cried out into the table, her squeals reaching such a high pitch that they were sure to alert the other runners...but there was no containing that noise any longer.

"Fuck...f-fuck, I can feel it, Irving! Flood me! F-fucking breed me!"

Her claws raked fresh trails in the top of the picnic table as a waterfall of his seed poured down from her stretched, taken slit, the mess dripping right into grass and connecting them with nature in a way that they'd both desired for longer than they knew.

Now that they'd dipped their toes in the water, however, it was a matter of finding a bigger pond and a smaller crowd...