FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

In front of a painterly backdrop of alfalfa fields and telephone lines, the harvest mouse glanced over his golden-furred shoulder. Off to the west, where all harbingers came from, the pristine evening was coming to an end: a wall cloud, dark and menacing, about twenty miles off. Looking away, he took a deep breath. One more shot, and then I'll go inside.

He gave a challenging nod, a head-bob to his invisible, imaginary opponent. You think you're ready for this? Dribbling the faded orange basketball slowly, then quickly between his legs, he juked left before leaning back to the right and scurrying straight for the basket in a squeaky burst. Bare foot-paws kicking up dust as he jumped off the dirt court, twisting through the air. Reverse lay-up! Ball off the foggy, glass backboard, bouncing, spinning on the rim, round and round and ...

" ... yes!" The mouse's arms thrust victoriously into the air, paws clenched into fists and head tossing back as the ball sank through the net. Sweat was dripping off his whisker-tips, profusely. It felt good. He felt alive. I win!

"Field?"

He blinked, looking over to the back porch of the white-sided house.

"You done being a superstar?" Adelaide teased. She was a pink-furred bat, his mate of five years.

"I suppose," he admitted sheepishly, before flexing his arms for her, showing off his bare chest. "I'm just staying fit and attractive!"

"Is that all?" She chittered with mirth. "Well, you're fit enough. You can afford to take it easy, now and then." She played with him, sometimes. But he got so intense, she couldn't keep up. A few weeks ago, he'd tripped going for a rebound. Hitting his head on the ground, seeing stars for a minute or two. She was pretty sure he'd gotten a light concussion. Would've been worse had his shoulder not absorbed the harshest part of the fall. No dizziness, nausea, or headaches, only a few days of insomnia. Being rather poor, they didn't have the money to pay for a doctor. Not unless there was clearly something wrong. "I'm serious, Field."

But he was stubborn, sometimes, in his own quiet way. "I'm a mouse. I just have to scurry, no matter what."

"Come inside," she repeated, angling her ears at him. "It's gonna storm soon."

"Yeah, I've been watching the clouds," he replied, lightly, padding off the court and through the grass, holding the basketball against his hips. Wearing tattered jean shorts. "Is our lawnmower still broken?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Well, the yard's gonna have to be cut, eventually. We can't keep borrowing my parents' ... "

"Let's not worry about it, hmm?"

"I'm a mouse. I can't ... "

" ... help it. I know." A fanged smile. "That's your excuse for everything. Lucky for you, I have a very strong affinity for mouses."

Making it to the back porch, up the concrete steps, he stopped at the screen door and put his nose to hers. "I'm sorry," he whispered, "for being so obsessive about things."

She answered by tilting her muzzle, kissing his lips. They tasted salty.

His eyes closed, and he opened his maw. Her tongue. Dexterous, wily bat thing, meant for catching insects. She was worming it into his mouth. His nose began to flare. A throaty squeak!

She withdrew it, twisting off his lips with a smack. "Like I said," she murmured, affectionately, dragging a clawed thumb down his side. "Let's not worry about it."

He nodded, obediently, before wriggling past her and into the incandescently lit kitchen. He set the basketball on one of the chairs around the table, temporarily. He'd put it in the front porch later. "I'm gonna shower before the storm hits."

"Sure you don't wanna wait?" she asked, closing the door. Speaking casually. "I mean, we're gonna have sex before we sleep."

"Adelaide ... " A blush.

" ... aren't we?"

A shy, little nod.

"So, you're gonna get messy again. You wanna take two in one night?"

"Maybe I'll just shower again in the morning."

"You don't like showering in the morning," she said. The bat knew him too well.

"I don't even care," he insisted. "I'm totally sweaty. My fur's all matted ... "

"I'm just teasing," she assured. "My tidy, fastidious thing." There were those fangs, again. That toothy smile. So alluring. "Don't take too long ... "

Half an hour later.

"There's no warnings. Or watches. I checked on the radio," Adelaide insisted. "Didn't hear anything."

"I wanna be sure," Field replied. The golden harvest mouse picked up the television remote. Turning it to each of the local stations. 6, 8, 13. Nothing, nothing. And nothing. It's not that he didn't trust his mate's word. He was just obsessive, like he'd said earlier. "Those clouds looked so nasty ... " He went to the window, squinting, pressing his pink, sniffy nose against it. Too dark to see. The moon was hidden. His dishy ears arched atop his honey-wheat head, and he pulled back with a sudden, paranoid twitch. "I think I heard thunder!"

"You think?"

"I did!"

"Field, it's just a normal storm."

"After those tornadoes in Southern Indiana," he began, twitching more fiercely, "I have nightmares about funnel clouds getting us. Hunting us down like predators."

"Well, there'd be warnings if it were serious," she repeated, slightly distracted by their laptop computer. She typed in something with her thumbs. Bats, with wing-arms instead of regular arms, didn't really have 'normal' paws and digits. What would've been fingers on another mammal were instead elongated into support columns for the wing membranes. Like spines on a kite. Leaving only big, hooking thumbs as true digits.

Having somewhat calmed down, Field blew out a breath and flipped through more channels. "It's only eight-o'clock," he realized. "Huh." It seemed like it should be later. They normally didn't go to bed 'til eleven. "Do you wanna watch anything? Or do anything?"

"Mm?"

"Well, a movie, a game ... " He paused, giving a shy, innocent smile. A romantic idea. "We could make cookies?"

"Hmm. Cookies." A raised brow. She turned his direction, insisting, "Only if they're buggy."

He made a sudden face. Insects were a natural part of bats' diets. Which was fine, of course. For bats. But, "I don't wanna eat bugs in cookies. Or in anything."

"We'll just split the dough, silly. Half for you, half for me. Oatmeal and bug cookies? Just like raisins."

"No, they are not like raisins. You tricked me into eating one last time, and it did not taste like raisins." That mousey stubbornness began to rear its head, cutely. He crossed his arms.

"It hardly tastes like anything, Field. It's all in your head. It's a mental block. Besides, you need the protein," she insisted, with a wink. She was trying not to laugh. It was hard.

"Not in my cookies, I don't."

"Well, I want bugs in mine. And toffee. And oatmeal. And chocolate chips," she listed.

"Is that your list of demands?" he teased, airily. His voice, like the rest of him, was slightly effeminate.

"It's just me knowing what I want," she countered, smoothly.

Dimples popped onto his cheeks, and he shook his head. "Alright. You win. This time ... "

" ... uh-huh." A wink. "I think I win all the time."

"No." A head-shake. "I remember a time you didn't."

"When was that?"

"That, uh ... you know, that one time," he said, generically, quickly getting back on topic. For someone so winningly competitive at sports, he didn't mind being out-flirted by her. And she knew it, too. "Bring the laptop into the kitchen if you wanna use it. Then we can talk while we make 'em. And no eating raw dough, this time. You're not supposed to do that."

"Hasn't killed me yet."

"Well, I'm not letting you do it. I'm controlling the dough bowl," he insisted.

"A flash of dominance," she observed, standing sultrily and brushing a cotton candy wing-arm against his ropy tail as she followed him out of the room. "I like it when you turn the tables on me ... "

The wall cloud drifted by, slowly, and nothing happened. At first. Then the wind began to pick up. The temperature dropped a little bit. Light thunder, with sprinkles of rain. But no real 'storm' to speak of. It was coming, though, surely. It had to be. There was a weird, thick electricity in the air. The kind that made your whiskers stiffen. You could sense it.

Maybe it was due to recent sunspot activity? A solar flare had flung itself toward Earth only yesterday, causing auroras in places that never got them. Maybe it was that. Or the unseasonal warmth? Whatever the case, it soon lost importance, taking a backseat to the myriad erotic feelings the mouse and bat were slowly unleashing upon each other ...

It was almost eleven-o'clock, and the two furs were comfortably sprawled on their old, creaky bed in the upstairs of their cozy farmhouse. Neither knew where there clothes were. On the stairs, maybe? Who cared. They'd been getting in the way.

The cookies had been good. They'd made a whole batch. Two pans, one with bugs, one without. He liked his cookies crispy. She liked them chewy, though, so he'd baked her pan for a few minutes less. They'd eaten them while sharing a single glass of milk, chatting, laughing, and then freezing the leftovers in a plastic bag. They'd both agreed that spontaneous weekday cookies tasted better than planned weekend cookies. Why, exactly, was a debate for another time ...

The mouse had already moved on to another dessert. Namely, her pussy, which was somehow both sweet and salty, as well as incredibly hot to the touch, not to mention nice and moist. And low-calorie, too! He licked, kissed, sucked, and nibbled. When he finished eating her out, he sighed, hazily, nuzzling his cheek against her soft, feminine belly, and looking her over with dilated blue-grey eyes.

She had an attractive, healthy build. Her wingspan, in particular, was breathtaking. Made her look like an erotic angel. She was a few inches shorter than him, with average-sized breasts and fertile, curvy hips. Her tail was less than two feet long, semi-short with a violet bow tied around the base for decoration. It was the only thing either of them was still wearing. Field reached beneath her and gripped her tail-base, stroking upward to the tip, fingers running along the trails of purple ribbon.

Adelaide chittered, softly, maneuvering onto her side for just a moment.

This left the mouse's head on her hip. Which he immediately kissed, licking his lips, slowly, very slowly. Her nectar was still on his face and whiskers. He put his paws on her sides and rolled her onto her back, again. It was comfier that way. "That was good ... "

"Mm, you're tellin' me," the bat breathed, lazily. Looking at the ceiling. Recovering from an orgasm. Her knees were still bent, with those soft, pink-furred thighs invitingly open.

"You wanna taste how good?" he whispered, innocently.

" ... mm-hmm."

Even before she'd answered, he was already wriggling up her body in the most sensual of ways. Padded paws sliding up her sides. Then leaving them for the velvety membranes of her wings. His chest squishing down her breasts, pink and gold fur brushing, mixing, shedding. Such attractively warm colors, vibrant in their uniqueness. Like an abstract painting.

The mouse eagerly initiated a kiss. Deep and passionate. The sound of suckling, fumbling lips. So heated, they almost glowed. It must've lasted ten seconds, at least. When it was over, he mouthed on her cheek, in a voice as vulnerable as eggshells, "I love you so much ... "

"I love you, too, mousey," she whispered, wrapping her wing-arms around his body. Blanketing him with herself. He liked that. It made him feel safe and protected. "I hope you saved enough room for the main course."

"You mean that was only an appetizer?" he said, stifling happy laughter, nibbling on her shoulder with his buckteeth before gnawing his way to her neck. He could feel her pulse. And, somehow, that turned him on even more.

"Mm, you know it ... "

"I have room," he assured her, peppering her cheek with kisses, now. "I always have ... " Kiss, kiss. " ... plenty of room for you." He began panting on her chin with uncontrollable desire. "Adelaide ... "

"Yes?"

"Can I be on my back?" he asked, bumping his muzzle to hers. Nose to nose. His twitchy whiskers flicked against her cheeks.

"Wanna be ridden, do you? By a cowgirl?" she cooed, sultrily. He was so sweet. And it was entirely genuine. So rare to find, these days. "I think that can be arranged. I'll just have to get my lasso ... "

"Think I'm gonna buck you off?"

"You never know ... "

"Well, my tail's kinda ropy. Maybe I'll end up lassoing you," he admitted.

"Go ahead an' try it, boy," she slurred, throwing her weight to the left. All at once, without warning. Getting the harvest mouse on his back. The sheets, by now, were strewn all over. The knitted afghans were on the floor. And the pink bat raised up, knees on the bed and hips straddling his. Her pouting, furry pussy rubbing parallel against his erect shaft.

Panting excitedly, the mouse dipped his groin to better fit against hers. Reaching out to grip her hips, for purchase, he began bumping and wriggling. It wasn't long before their parallel paths became perpendicular. They met in the middle. Spearing upward in a single, buttery thrust, five inches, a fraction more, into sheer, blazing wetness. His tufted, tightened sac slapped snugly to her labia. "Oh-h ... "

Adelaide's wing-arms stilted against his chest, anchored by those thumbs. They dug into his fur as she hunched over and immediately gyrated her hips counter-clockwise. With him trapped snugly inside. She steered his essence.

The mouse squeaked in helpless pleasure, giving a weak buck or two before going still. Well, mostly. His paws kept moving. They left her hips. One went directly to her clitoris, teasing it, skirting it. Occasionally giving it a direct brush-over with a furred fingertip. The other paw moved around behind her to grip those plush rump-cheeks. Groping, grabbing, fingers eventually fumbling for the end of her violet bow. He tugged at the ribbon. Once, twice. The bow loosened. With the third tug, it came undone, and the mouse tossed it aside. It floated to the floor, unseen, gulped up the dark. And he gripped that rudder-tail as she began to rise up and crash back down, her wet pussy making a distinct squelching sound in the process.

While this was going on, the brunt of the long-delayed storm finally passed over the house. Thunder began cracking louder, echoing like a bowling ball knocking over big, hollow pins. The rains came, too, pattering steadily on the shingled roof. The tiny, just-budded leaves on the spring-dressed trees all danced on bending, bobbing limbs. A lightning bolt struck a nearby field, and the resulting illumination cast an eerie glow through the bedroom window, silhouetting Adelaide atop her mouse, who was squeaking up a storm of his own, anxiety beginning to flare as he realized what was going on outside. But pleasure! Oh, pleasure overrode even the fiercest of prey instincts. He soon became oblivious, again. She, the stronger force of nature, made him forget.

The bat spread her wing-arms, flapping them in the bedroom air and creating a warm, muggy breeze. Was it hotter in here? Why is the fur on my nape standing on end? She was sweating, panting, her clitoris buzzing with insane sensitivity, electrically so. Oh, god, that's so good ... oh, like that, just like that. "Field ... " Her eyes rolled back, hips crashing down on her mate's familiar essence. Her shores upon his shoals, she let forth a piercing echo-burst! The high-pitched sound bounced off every available surface in the room, including the mouse's body, but never made it back to her sonar ears. It was swallowed up by a canyon-sized boom, instead, which was attached to a nuclear super-flash.

They both twitched, violently, as if being zapped, and lost consciousness in mid-orgasm.

Everything went to utter black.

Field woke up on the carpet, on his side, with a slight headache. Almost like he had a hangover. Morning sunlight was slanting through the window, dust motes caught in the rays. He grimaced, pupils constricting. Why am I on the floor? The last thing he remembered ... lightning? Or a flash. A loud sound. Yeah, the air had sizzled, and his muscles had tensed, and ... didn't that describe an orgasm? Metaphorically, at least? We were making love. Me and Adelaide. Mm-h. That's right ...

He moved his fingers to rub at his eyes, but ... wait, he couldn't feel his fingers. He blinked. Why can't I can't feel my fingers? His heart stopped, and he stretched his neck, looking down at himself. It's because there were no fingers. Well, not exactly. I have wings? My fur is pink ...

It took him a while to figure it out. Mostly because it was so hard to believe. But it was all there. The breasts, the fur like the inside of a watermelon. Swallowing, he propped himself up on his elbows, and slowly opened his legs ... her legs. My penis! It's gone! A panicked chitter-sound, followed by an echo-burst. It bounced off everything and back to her ears. My ears. They weren't dishy anymore. They were sorta angled and swept. But who cared about that. There were more important things. Like, you know, my penis being gone!

I'm female.

No, not just female ...

I'm my mate! I'm Adelaide!

The mouse-turned-bat, or ... well, mouse in bat's body? He ... no, I'm a she, now. She sat up, incredulous. Then looked to their bed. He was laying there, still sleeping, in the fur. My body. My old body. If I'm her, is she me? She must be. This was making the headache worse. "Adelaide," he said, weakly. In her voice. It sounded so odd to him. And it was tinged in fear. "Adelaide, wake up." The bat got to her knees, reaching out with her wing-arms to nudge and prod the mouse.

Field's body stretched and twitched. "Mm-h ... "

"Adelaide, are you in there?"

The mouse blinked a few times in confusion. "Field?"

"It's you, isn't it?" the bat breathed. This relieved him for some reason. Just her presence ...

"Wait, what do you mean?" The mouse rubbed his head. His? I'm a him? Adelaide looked down. "Oh, wow ... Field," she breathed, incredulously. "I'm you! I'm in your body!"

"I noticed," was the shy response.

"Is this a dream?"

"Not unless we're both having it," the bat replied.

"Why are you on the floor?" the mouse asked, tilting his head.

"Cause you were riding me when that thing happened, that flash, that ... you know, whatever happened. We blacked out. You must've fallen off. And, since I'm you, now, I woke up down here."

"Oh." That made sense, at least. Even if nothing else did. "Well, get back in bed," was the excited order. He patted the sheets.

The bat rose to her bare foot-paws. She took a deep breath, spreading her wing-arms to full span. It felt so different.

"You look beautiful," the mouse said, admiringly, with a cheeky, bucktoothed grin, whirling his fingers in a circular motion. "Turn around, Field. I wanna see ... "

The bat did so, sauntering about, around, wings up, then down. Flashing her rudder-tailed rump, slanting her hips. After a few seconds, she began to enjoy it. "I really like the way your body moves," the bat breathed. "And the wings. I just feel so graceful. Or, uh ... capable? Confident, too. Like I own the space I'm in. Does that make sense?"

"Mm-hmm... " The mouse ogled the bat. "We're the only winged mammals, after all. Makes us kinda bold, different. Used to be persecuted as vampires, so we have that edgy mystique going for us."

"You're more angel than vampire," she insisted, demurely.

"Aw." A giggle-squeak, still eying him liberally. "Thanks, mousey ... er, batty ... "

"You look like you wanna pounce me." A pause. "Is that the look I always give you?"

"Maybe," he replied, distractedly. "All this testosterone in my blood ... mm, it's invigorating." The mouse flexed his arms, showing off his biceps. Tightening up his chest. "Mm-h. I feel so strong ... "

"I'm not exactly a macho mouse," the bat reminded.

"You're male enough, though," was the immediate, satisfied reply. "More than male enough ... " The mouse felt his chest. Then reached behind himself and grabbed at his pert, ropy-tailed ass. "Nice ... "

"I don't have fingers," the bat said, testing her body out, too.

"So? You have thumbs. It's not a problem once you get used to it." The mouse paused. "But I have fingers, now ... " She curled them. Then giggled. "It's so weird, not having wings. I feel so flightless!"

"It's been millennia since bats could actually fly. The wings are only decoration," the bat reminded, logically, raising them up. It felt glorious, though! She flapped them several times.

"Just get in bed, will you?" The mouse was giving him a bucktoothed grin, clearly enjoying this now that the shock had worn off.

She flopped down next to him. "I should be nervous. I should be freaking out," the bat said.

"My body's not as anxious as yours," the mouse told her.

"So, do you feel anxious, then? Like, you're feeling what I would normally feel?"

"I do feel a little nervous. I'm trying to shove it back down." His whiskers twitched. "My heart's already beating faster ... " His eyes went wide. The anxiety fled as he noticed something. "Ha, I have a penis!"

"You just now realized that?" Adelaide's feminine voice asked.

"Well, I saw it. But I didn't fully ... you know, realize it was mine until now!"

"But it's not yours," the bat reminded. "It's mine!"

"We're married, Field. Our bodies belong to each other. One flesh, one fur? All that spiritual stuff ... "

"That's true ... "

He couldn't resist touching his sex. Giving the limp organ a tug, watching, fascinated, as it flopped aside. And to think that funny, springy thing hardened and sculpted itself into something so desirable! Hmm. It was desirable even limp, come to think of it. "Field, you have the cutest cock ... " He began to giggle-squeak, cupping his sac. "And your balls are so furry ... "

"Adelaide ... "

"What? I'm surprised you haven't started thumbing yourself. You have a pussy, now."

"I'll look at it later," she said, shyly.

"You wanna do it, now. You're curious." There was that grin, again. An Adelaide grin in Field's body.

"Of course I am!" she admitted. "But ... but, you know, this shouldn't be happening. This isn't normal. I think we should figure out what's going on before we get too comfortable with it ... "

"What's there to know? It was that storm," the mouse said, laying down beside her, casually folding his arms behind his head. "Are my whiskers twitching?"

She turned her head to check. "Yes."

"You rodents. Such high-energy things ... " Blowing out air. Slow breaths. "Okay. So, let's just think about this."

"Alright ... "

"There was that article in the Indy Star, remember, the other day? About the sun being at peak solar flare activity? It made the aurora show this week, and it never shows this far south."

"Right ... " The bat nodded.

"Also, it was almost eighty degrees yesterday. In late-March. That's way above normal. Then it stormed." He counted all these things out on his fingers, one by one. "Lighting hit the house, and ... " He scanned the ceiling, carefully. " ... it hit our room. There's a lightning rod above our room." He swallowed, paws moving down to grip the sheets. "I remember my fur standing on end. My clitoris was, like ... on fire," he mouthed, hotly. "Everything was hot, electric. Then, bam! I blacked out ... "

"That's how I remember it, too," the bat whispered. "Well, mostly." Some of the details had been different. Part of him had definitely been tingling, but it hadn't been a clitoris.

"It was a full moon, too, wasn't it?" the mouse added. "Behind the clouds?"

"Does that matter?"

"Well, we can't ignore it. Full moon. Solar flares. Aurora. Storm. I mean ... maybe it was the perfect convergence of events! Like the aligning of planets or something. We were touching each other when the lightning hit, and our minds were fairly active and, somehow, our consciousnesses became un-tethered from our bodies. And we got switched." He yawned, covering his mouth with a golden paw. Then looked down his body, moving his foot-paws left and right. "Field, you look like a butterscotch candy disc. Did I ever tell you that?"

"More than once," the bat reminded.

"Mm." A twitch. "Yeah, so, anyway. What do you think of my theory? I can't see any other explanation."

"I think it sounds pretty far-fetched. That's what happens in sitcoms when they run out of ideas. They do body-switching episodes."

"Yeah, but this is real life, and here we are ... " He breathed in deep. Just to feel how much air he could take into his new lungs. A deep exhale. " ... in each other's bodies. So, unless you have a better explanation ... "

"I don't," the bat admitted, opening her thighs, bending her knees. Luxuriating in her new figure.

"Then maybe the craziest answer is the right one." The harvest mouse touched his penis, again. He just couldn't resist, slowly rubbing his furred thumb over the back of the head. "Ooh ... oh. Field." A silly smile. "How can you think when you've got this thing between your legs all day long?"

"I manage ... "

"Yeah, but it's so distracting! I knew it felt good for you, but this is, like ... thrilling! To actually feel it, myself. Rather than just seeing your reactions ... " She rubbed the glans more. It was clearly the most sensitive spot. "Oh-h ... that's good. Oh, look! Field!"

"It's an erection," the bat said, simply.

"Isn't it amazing?" the mouse said, bright-eyed. He enjoyed watching it grow almost as much as how it felt.

"I never thought of it as amazing. It's just, uh ... what happens ..." The bat trailed off, watching his cock tick up, up. Gorging slowly with blood. Was it weird to be turned on by this? Cause, honestly, it was starting to arouse her like crazy. She felt ... felt ... " ... I'm wet," she realized, reaching down with a hooked thumb. Fishing between her delicate petal-lips. A shiver and a blink. It came back damp.

"That means you're ready for me. You want me," the mouse murred, devilishly, giving her a wink. He turned, getting on all fours above her, nose sniffing, whiskers twitching. "I never knew I smelled so good. Does that sound conceited? What I mean is: you can't really smell your own scent, you know ... " He buried his nose in the bat's pink pelt, breathing in deep. "Mm-h!"

"Adelaide, um ... we shouldn't do this." Her heart was racing, and her throat was dry. She smelled him, too. And she liked it. "Not right now." She knew where this was headed.

"Give me a good reason not to ... "

"We both have work in an hour?"

A blink. "Oh. Right." He laughed. "Damn. Responsibilities ... " He fondled the bats breasts, all the same. "This is so surreal ... "

She began to pant beneath him, her breasts jiggling, nipples getting hard. Were they supposed to get this hard?

The mouse managed to pull himself back with a sigh. "You're right, though. We have work. We have, uh ... things to do. We can exploit this for pleasure later ... " A sheepish pause. "Besides, I really have to go to the bathroom, anyway. Now that I think about it. Can't do that when erect, can I ... " He wriggled uncomfortably, trying to will his cock limp. "This thing is a lot more complicated than I thought."

"Complicated?"

"Well, when you've never had one before ... " His voice rising into a high, squeaky pitch.

"Just calm down," she advised.

"Sorry. It's that nervous energy, again." He swallowed. "How do you deal with it?"

"By being with you," she replied, honestly.

It was such a sweet sentiment. It made the mouse's ears rosy-pink. "Aw, Field. That's ... I'm not used to blushing ... " He gave her a shy look, dimples showing. "Also, guess what? I just had a notion."

"Yeah?"

"It's supposed to storm again today. Later on. That's what they said on the weather, I think. Scattered thunderstorms, forty percent chance. Next three days." A deep, squeaky breath. "So, if I'm right, and if all these things, the flares, the aurora, the lightning, the sex ... if that cocktail caused this? Maybe it can reverse it, too. All we have to do is be having sex tonight when it storms."

"Like, recreate the exact conditions of the accident?" she asked.

"Yeah. As close as we can, anyway ... "

"We don't have any evidence that'll work."

"We don't have any evidence it won't, either," he countered.

"Well, no, but ... okay, how are we gonna get lightning to strike the house twice? That's like, uh ... lightning in a bottle. With houses."

"What do you suggest we do? Honestly? Who's going to believe us if we tell anyone?" the mouse asked.

"No one," the bat admitted, quietly. "They'll think we're crazy."

"Exactly. We can't trust anyone with this. We have to deal with it ourselves ... " She tweaked his nipples.

She chittered, delightedly.

"Come on, Field. We're gonna screw each other tonight, anyway." A boyish grin, reaching down and spreading his fingers in her pink thigh-fur, inching toward her pouting sex. Rubbing around it, beside it, but not quite touching it. It was fun to tease Field from the other side of the coin. "Aren't we?"

The bat licked her showy fangs. "Mm-h. Yeah ... " She took a deep, erotic breath. "Fine, fine ... I just hope your plan works. This is fun, honestly. I'm not against, uh, exploring it. But I wouldn't want it to be permanent. I don't want us to lose ourselves in each other ... "

"But isn't that what love's about? Isn't that what you're always telling me?" the mouse posed. "That you want to lose yourself in me?"

"Well, yeah ... but I never meant literally!" Her plum-colored eyes widened.

"Why not?" was the serious, challenging glance.

"I dunno," the bat admitted, lamely. "I've been a mouse for twenty-seven years. And male. Those things define me. I wanna be me loving you as me, not me loving you as you. Uh ... or something?" A frustrated sigh. "I'm so confused! I need an aspirin."

"Me, too," the mouse whispered, giggle-squeaking. Yes, this was fun. But it did raise a lot of issues. He couldn't deny that. "I'm not sure if I'm me or you, either. I mean, I'm Adelaide. I have those memories. That personality. But I have your body, and your body is affecting how my mind's working. I guess it all depends on if you think that mind trumps matter."

The bat wasn't able to answer that. The idealistic answer was, yes, mind over matter every time! Spirit conquers all! But that wasn't realistic. The body got hungry. The body got tired, needed exercise, wanted sex. The body eventually ... well, it even passed away. The body always won. Didn't it? I don't wanna think about this. It's too existential. "I need to eat something."

" ... oh, right. Breakfast," the mouse said. "Hmm ... I'm hungry, too. What should I eat?"

"That granola cereal I like. Two bowls. And a glass of orange juice."

"I never eat two bowls," he said.

"Well, you're male, now, and you require more calories. You have my figure to maintain."

"And you've got mine," the mouse said, copping another feel.

"Remember, we both have work," the bat reminded. "Let's not be late. We can't afford to get fired."

"I know, I know ... " A groan of annoyance! " ... why can't we just call in sick? All I wanna do is fuck, okay?" he admitted, plainly. Field, in his own body, often felt that way. Passionate. Physical. But he was always polite about it. Adelaide was far more blunt.

"After being perfectly healthy yesterday? We're not sick. We'll just have to impersonate each other."

The mouse giggle-squeaked. "How can we impersonate each other if we are each other?"

"But we're not! I mean ... well ... "

"Guess we'll just have to muddle through. And we both have to shower, too. So much to do! And only an hour to do it." He glanced at the bedside clock-radio. They hadn't showered after having sex last night. What with being knocked unconscious and all. "We better shower alone, though. Else we'll get 'curious,' if you know what I mean." The mouse started to laugh, crawling away from her. Getting out of bed. He stood up and stretched, prehensile tail whipping around. It seemed to have a mind of its own, sometimes. "How do you control this thing?"

"You'll get the hang of it," the bat assured.

"Hey, Field ... "

" ... what?" the bat asked, sitting and then standing up. A few inches shorter than him. It was weird, having to look up like that.

"I know you're accomplished at taking my bra off, but I don't think you've ever put it on. You gonna need help with that?"

"I'll figure it out," she answered, stubbornly. Hopefully ...

"You know, pink suits you," the mouse said, with a laugh, suddenly scurrying out of the room. He was limp enough to go. Finally. So, off he went!

The Sheridan Public Library was nestled at the end of a rather sleepy Main Street. Adelaide had worked there part-time for about six years. Furs still checked out books, but the place was mostly used for web access, research, and for club meetings and community functions. The town itself wasn't nearly as vibrant as it'd been half a century ago, but that was true of most small, agricultural bergs. Time had a way of passing them by. As did the economy. It was also a conservative-minded place where everybody knew everyone else's business and found it morally inferior to their own. Which made it even more important that no one found out what had happened to Field and Adelaide last night.

"You seem distracted," Ketchy, the brown-furred squirrel, observed. Her name was short for Ketchikan. She was Adelaide's best female friend, and was removing some books from inventory. Periodically, the library held an 'attic sale' to get rid of old or disheveled books that were taking up space. The proceeds used to go toward getting new ones. Now, they mostly went for new tech. A conservative town like this would always have a library. But they still had to stay relevant to encourage local use.

"Maybe a little," Adelaide (or, rather, Field as Adelaide) eventually admitted, glancing out the main windows. It was a nice day. "I can't believe it's almost ninety degrees. In March."

"Yeah, it's a record," Ketchy said. "All the fruit's gonna come on early. Gonna be a wild summer, I bet."

"I wasn't complaining. I prefer this to subzero and snow. You can't do anything in the winter ... "

"Yeah, but if it's this hot, now, what's it gonna be like in June?" Ketchy posed.

"I dunno. Just weird weather going on, I guess. Weird things happening all over," the bat mumbled, incoherently.

"Like what?"

"Hmm?"

"What weird things?"

"Oh, like, uh ... you know. Random things," was the bat's non-answer. She'd been hedging all morning, afraid of saying something un-Adelaide. She kept looking out the windows. Furs were mulling about the bordering park, leisurely. Mostly prey. "Why'd he stare at me like that?"

"Who?"

"That wolf. He checked out those books a few minutes ago. Or more like, he checked me out, but I had no barcode ... " A cheesy joke. A very Field-ish thing. When it got no laugh, she frowned and continued, "Anyway, he was undressing me with his eyes. You didn't notice?"

"Kinda. Didn't find it unusual."

"Why not?"

"Let's see," posed Ketchy, moving a stack of books into a box before bringing over a new stack, scanning them with a code gun, then deleting them from the computer system. "Some of these are pretty good books, by the way. We get first dibs."

"Field likes romance and science-fiction. Any of those?"

"A few ... "

"I'll look through 'em later. But you were, uh, saying, about the wolf?" the bat continued. "You went 'let's see' ... "

"Firstly, you're pretty ... "

" ... pretty?" An amused smile. She wasn't used to being called that.

"Yeah, pretty."

"Go on ... "

"You're pretty, bubble gum pink, and one of the only bats in a small, rural town. So, why wouldn't the wolf stare? Why is it even a question?"

"Cause I wasn't staring at him, and I wasn't asking for the attention." A pause. "I didn't think he was that hot ... "

"How would you know if you weren't staring back?" the squirrel asked, with a bucktoothed smile.

"I just know," was the stubborn response.

"I'd agree, though. He was okay, but not top-tier," Ketchy admitted. "I hate how males aggressively gang up on any female they see. Like we're some kind of rare commodity. You don't see females flocking to males like that ... well, not unless they're famous."

"That's because you ... I mean, we," the bat corrected, "like to string them along. We like being chased." An uncertain pause. Field hadn't dated many furs before he met Adelaide. So, he didn't really have much practical experience on wooing. "Don't we?"

"I like the attention, sure, but ... " The squirrel shook her head, whiskers twitching. "Sometimes, they don't know when to quit."

"You're mated, though." The squirrel's mate, Denali, was a river otter.

"So? I still get looks, sometimes. Not as much as you, but you're pink. And have wings. You stand out. But, still, everyone loves squirrel tails." She primped and posed her tail. "I think it's my best feature," she bragged. "Like Ingrid Bergman in Casablanca."

"I prefer Notorious."

"Well, it's a black-and-white movie star tail, for sure. You can't deny that ... "

The bat stared at Ketchy's tail. No, she couldn't. It was very attractive. But is that my male consciousness thinking that, Field wondered, or Adelaide's female body? Both he and Adelaide were technically bisexual, even though both leaned toward the opposite sex. That made this even more confusing.

"Though the heat is making it all frizzy. I'll have to use a better shampoo and conditioner. That's the only bad thing about my tail. It's so big and fluffy, it takes forever to groom."

She swallowed, still staring. Don't go being attracted to your mate's friend while in your mate's body. That's weird. Change the subject. You were talking about that wolf. "His eyes were very, uh ...I dunno. Intent? Fierce? I was just an object or something. He wanted to have me, carnally." She licked her fangs. Hmm. Talking like this was turning her on just a little. "It was lust. That's it ... " I'm used to being desired by Adelaide. As a male. But being lusted at by another male, as a female? Layers upon layers to this whole experience. I feel like an onion!

"He was a predator. They have no sense of decorum. Never have. They're all mouth and trousers." A squint. "Why are you being so weird about this? You'd normally feed off it. You love attention."

"What does that mean?"

"You've got a dominant personality. You're a total flirt."

"So?"

"Just an observation ... " The squirrel held up her paws, innocently, whiskers twitching.

"Well, everyone's different," the bat reasoned. "Infinite diversity in infinite combinations."

"Star Trek, right?"

A nod. "Field watches it ... "

"Did you watch Dancing With the Stars last night?"

"Um ... " Adelaide sometimes does. Should I say yes? "Yeah ... "

"What'd you think about that flamenco dance? And having a flamingo do it? Is that supposed to be a play-on-words? Cheesy. Hot is hot, and I'm not sure flamingos are hot to begin with. Maybe with Spanish or Portuguese accents. Like Brazilian flamingos. But American ones? Doesn't do it for me." A head-shake. "But that skunk, on the other paw ... "

"I agree," the bat said, immediately. When in doubt, just nod and smile. It worked ninety percent of the time. Being a quiet sort, Field had gotten through many conversations that way. In fact, in Adelaide's body, he was talking a lot more than he normally would in public. Eventually, talking about the male sex, the bat got a little too self-aware, asking, "Why can't more males be like Field?" Bragging about myself to someone else while I'm someone else? I never knew I had such an ego ...

"Oh, he lusts after you. He can be an animal. Especially from what you've told me in the past ... "

Hold on, what has she told her in the past ... ?

"That mouse stuff; the shy, nervous twitches, squeaks, and blushing ears? Cuteness masks everything. He acts like you're Nike, the winged goddess."

"And who says I'm not?" the bat asked, flashing her pearly-white fangs.

"Our bosses." Done scanning the second stack of books, Ketchy moved them, too. The box was full. "I need to get a new container. Are you gonna put the returned books back on the shelves? Or just stand here and chat? Probably should do it before lunch."

"Um ... right. I was going to, uh, do that." A pause. She swallowed. "Where do they go, again?" the bat asked.

"Where they usually go."

"Right ... " Smile and nod. "And, uh, where's that?"

A slight frown. "Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

"Yeah. Why?" was the evasive reply.

"I don't know. Something seems different ... "

"I just didn't sleep well. Kinda groggy. You know, the storms, and, uh ... all this solar flare stuff. Allergies," she added. "Pollen." She was blabbering, now.

"I read about that. The flares. Didn't know it affected bats." A sly chitter. "Think you're just trying to get me to do your work."

"And why would I do that? Are you calling me lazy?" Adelaide's not lazy. She's just easygoing, Field thought.

"Not calling you that. But you don't have normal paws. It's harder for you to put the books on the higher shelves."

"Well, I'll just go put these back where they go. And stuff," the bat said, uncertainly. Carefully maneuvering the 'returned books cart' from behind the checkout desk. She couldn't really stall any longer. Might as well attempt to work.

"I know what's different!" Ketchy said, accusingly.

"Y-you ... you do?" the bat replied, nervously. There was no way she could know ...

"Your bow! That purple bow you tie round your tail-base. You're not wearing it."

"Oh." She blinked. "Huh. You're right ... " A quick glance behind her own shoulder, her rudder tail jutting aside. "Well, Field normally ties it. And, uh, he wasn't able to this morning." It's a good thing Adelaide was pink all over, cause if he were in his own body, Field would've blushed throughout this entire conversation. He was such a horrible liar. His ears were dead giveaways.

"Well, it's part of your style. Wondered if you'd given it up."

"No."

"Good." The squirrel gave Adelaide a look-over, wondering, maybe, if there was something else. But she couldn't think of it. "When you're done with that, we'll start staggering our lunch breaks," she said.

The bat just nodded, distractedly. Sure. Lunch. She was incredibly worried about where these books went. She had no idea whatsoever. They all had numbers on the spines, but she didn't know what they meant. She was just gonna have to guess. If she was wrong, well, the real Adelaide could fix it if they returned to normal. Or, rather, when they returned to normal. When. Not if. Got it? Let's be optimistic, here ...

... now, these numbers. What do they mean? Dewey Decimal System? Oh, god, I have no idea what I'm doing! Just put these on the shelves and pretend to look confident.

So, that's what she did.

"Quite a storm last night," said Randy, a tall, lanky rabbit with a slight Southern accent. He was leaning back in an Amish-crafted rocking chair in the empty cider press room, which you had to pass through in order to get from the orchard to the store. And vice versa. The big garage-type door was half-lowered, though, to keep out the heat. You could see the trees out there, all dwarf varieties, boldly coming into flower and buzzing with bees. Twenty-eight kinds of apples. They would all be early this year, too. All the fruit would. It was going to really suck come October, when all the fruit had ripened already and there was absolutely nothing left for customers to pick during the peak of fall. Hopefully, the harvest was abundant enough to cold store.

"Yeah, it was a doozy," the mouse finally replied, opening his lunch bag. Work hadn't been so bad, today. So far. Mostly painting floors, moving shelves. Lifting things. Taking pruned limbs back to the brush-pile. Preparatory work. The one problem he'd had was clocking in. It'd taken him ten minutes to figure out how to do it. No time cards. Just a computer clerk number. He'd watched the others do it, mimicking them as best he could. Hope I didn't mess it up. He just thanked God that the store wasn't open yet. Cause Field, during store hours, ran the main cash register, and ... yeah, that would've been a disaster. Not having a clue how to work that thing or handle money.

"You looking forward to the Indy Car race this weekend? You're into that, right?"

"Mm?"

"Your shirt."

The mouse looked down. "Oh. Right." Field often wore sports t-shirts. His teams, drivers, etc.

"It's the season opener, isn't it?"

"Uh, yeah ... something like that. Football and basketball disappointed me this year." Adelaide could say this because of all the unhappy squeaking and screaming Field had done at the television and radio. "I'm ready to move on."

"I hear ya. Kinda a down year for Indiana teams. Guess we were getting' spoiled, recently." The rabbit chomped on a carrot. "Butler, right? That's your basketball team?"

"Mm-hmm." Don't ask me specifics. Move on, move on. It wasn't that Adelaide didn't enjoy Field's interests. She did. And would often watch with him. And went to the 500 with him, too, every year. But she didn't obsess about that stuff like he did. The mouse had a crazy, near-perfect memory about stats and stuff. It was a far more casual thing for her.

"Yeah, never been into basketball, myself. Even though I'm a rabbit. They all say, 'oh, you're so tall, you can hop, dunk the ball for me.' And I'm, like, 'I'd rather be a wide receiver. Or a quarterback.' They get all the glory, you know. And the pussy." His ears twiddled. "Sucks about Manning."

"Yeah, well, I wasn't surprised. Some fans are just in denial," Field replied. "Football is a business. Modern-day Roman gladiators. A vicarious release of public violence. Emotional attachments don't pay." Hey, maybe I know more about sports than I think!

"Huh." Randy rubbed his neck. "Uh ... still think they should've kept him, myself." He began eating a sandwich of some kind.

The mouse watched, making a face. I seriously hope there's no meat on that. He's supposed to be prey ...

"Who's your favorite driver again? Ryan Power?"

"Um ... no." She looked down at her shirt. Damn. It didn't say. Just a generic '500' shirt. "Briscoe." Yeah, that sounds right.

"What about that babe, that female driver ... "

God, this rabbit likes to make small-talk. "There are a few of 'em." He doesn't know anything about racing, does he? I'm sure that drives Field insane.

"Yeah, but that one pantheress? I'd hit that."

The mouse blinked. "Hit?"

"Yeah, you know? Tap? Do?" He did a brief hip-check.

"Right ... "

"Guess you wouldn't know what's hot or not. You're too in love with that bat. You got the blinders on." He made a 'glasses' gesture with his paws.

"What makes you say that?"

"I've seen the look. In the eyes o' the ones who get all tamed and pussy-whipped ... "

"Field is not ... I mean, I'm not pussy-whipped," the mouse defended.

"Think you are."

"Am not."

"Are."

A huff. Field never argued. But Adelaide was more than happy to. "I'm just submissive. There's no laws against being that. I'm not threatened by strong, confident females, and I'm comfortable with my sexuality. This isn't 1950. Males don't need to be 'macho' to prove their worth. And why does 'pussy-whipped' have such a negative connotation? How come no one talks about anyone being 'dick-whipped,' huh?"

"Is that even a thing?" The rabbit's nose moved up and down.

"Well, that's my point. If males are submissive, oh, they're whipped ... "

" ... or gay," the rabbit added.

A glare. " ... but if females are submissive, it's normal and sexy. Talk about a double-standard."

The rabbit just shrugged, but was clearly taken aback by the retort. "Cool your jets, mouse. I was just sayin'. You and that Adele ... "

"Adelaide," the mouse corrected, defensively.

"Whatever. She's hot, sure. I get that. She's just a little too controlling. Kinda bitchy, sometimes."

"Better not let her hear you say that ... "

"Why, she gonna beat me up for you?"

"Just might," the mouse said, pointedly. And with Field's healthy musculature, goodness, it was tempting.

"Loosen up a little. Have some fun!"

"I have plenty of fun," the mouse defended.

"Not the right type." Finished with the sandwich, carrots, and whatever else he'd been eating, Randy flicked open a soda can. "You know, you're normally not this talkative. Or this fired up." He squinted. "You're, like, usually all quiet and mellow and stuff." He quirked a brow. "Are you high?"

"No, I am not high."

"Are you on acid?"

"What? No!"

"Just feelin' your oats, today?"

"Sure ... "

"Bound to happen eventually, I guess. You're like a shaken soda pop. Always knew you'd explode, eventually."

"Mm," the mouse went, deciding he was done debating this. You couldn't win with some furs. He resumed eating his meal, stubbornly, whiskers twitching.

"What are those? Are those ... crickets?"

Field stopped, mid-crunch. "Um. Yeah." Chew, chew, and swallow. "Adelaide likes 'em. I guess she, uh ... got me to like 'em, too."

"She even tells you what to eat, huh?"

"No," he squeaked.

"Uh-huh." The rabbit gave him a kooky look. "You're just not like most males, mouse."

"Good."

"Eatin' bugs, though? Just a little strange ... "

He didn't answer. Done talking. I'm done talking.

But it's interesting that I would have my own food cravings in Field's body, right? They say there's no accounting for taste. Is that because it's related to personality and consciousness? Do you realize how philosophically explosive this situation is? Has this ever happened to anyone before? Are we the first? Or does it happen all the time without getting reported?

Adelaide, finishing her ... er, his lunch, couldn't wait to get home and turn this situation into some fun. Cause trying to impersonate Field was stressful. He walked such a fine line between innocence and artistry. It was hard to mimic, and Adelaide, not for the first time, wondered how he was doing in her place? Better? Worse? They'd lived together for five years. We know each other inside and out. It should be easier than this ...

Nighttime, nearly twenty-four hours after the original incident.

Sure enough, another storm was rolling through. It was almost on top of them. The thunder rumbling, getting close enough to rattle the windowpanes. But they, mouse and bat, couldn't resist a little conversation, first. Sitting in bed, leaning against each other. Words were such excellent foreplay ...

"Being you makes me appreciate how unique you are. That's what drew me to you in the first place. You were always different, somehow. You've got a beautiful mind."

"You buttering me up?" she teased.

"Sorta. But it's truthful butter."

She chittered with mirth, nosing his neck. "Thanks."

"I wanna return the many 'favors' you've given me over the years," the mouse continued, honestly, hugging her with a single arm. The other paw went to her wing tip, his fingers wrapping around her thumb. "You've always put my pleasure above yours, Field. I don't know if I've told you how much that means to me." He took a shaky breath. His eyes were watering. She normally didn't cry. But, in Field's body, the sensitivity, the emotions. It was a little overwhelming ...

Bowing her head, humbly, Field replied, soothingly, "Well, I think you were right, earlier. This morning, when you told me how I always go on, poetically, about being one with you? If there's anything I learned from this, it's that I truly can't be me without you. I don't know where you begin and I end, anymore. We're just extensions of each other, aren't we? A duality. You and me. I just ... I don't exist without you, Adelaide. I wouldn't want to," she whispered, getting emotional, herself. "That's how deep my love runs. It doesn't make sense, but ... " ... none of the best things in life do. But she wasn't able to finish the sentence aloud.

Because he leaned in, turning, touching her cheek and tilting her head. In a smooth, seductive way, he shut her up as their lips met in a smoldering kiss, the bat's wing-arms instinctively wrapping round his neck. The kiss broke. They both audibly panted. And it started up again, more hungrily. She soon wound up on her back, and he was sprawled on top of her, that strong chest rising and falling with each breath, weighing upon her exposed breasts. Both of them were hot, burning up. Like stars, like suns. Fur matted from the warmth of the day. From their own desires. And, oh, from the nearness of each other. This whole experience was so brazenly intimate. There was only one way to communicate the complexity of that ...

The mouse brought a paw-pad upward, between them, and rubbed it smoothly against her right tit. It was already hard.

"Ah-h ... " She tensed up from the sensitivity.

"Relax, Field. Just relax. Enjoy what my body has to offer. I'm certainly going to enjoy yours." That was a promise. He fondled the bat's candy-pink ass. "You're so pretty ... "

"You're so handsome," he countered, panting. Corny, yeah. But it was the first response that came to mind.

He scratched under her chin. "Are you ready for this ... "

" ... yes." The bat shivered, leaning against the mouse, nosing his neck. Fangs grazing through his golden pelt. "I've been horny all day ... "

"Me, too, baby." He kissed her, again, and whispered, "More tongue."

It immediately snaked out of her maw, through his lips. Their noses flared. It was a completely new experience for the both of them, even though they'd done it hundreds of times. Her wily, wet tongue licking the roof of his mouth, painting the insides of his cheeks with her saliva.

The mouse, feeling his penis stiffen, lifted his hips and reached down to touch it, fingers dancing on the head, spreading a bead of pre around.

"Grip it," the bat suddenly advised, looking down between them, "with your left paw ... "

He nodded, dumbly.

"Thumb and fore-finger extended. Curl the other three." She whispered into one of his dishy ears, "That's how I used to masturbate before I met you."

"Mm, before you had my pussy?" the mouse squeaked, erotically.

"Before ... yeah, your pussy ... "

"Oh, god ... " He squeaked out the words, panting hard. "W-what, now ... "

"Lead with the middle finger. Let the tip run back and forth over the back ridge of the head. The shaft isn't as important as the head." She watched, breath shaking. "Now, stroke ... that's it. Keep stroking ... "

He did so, licking his dry lips. The paw began to speed up. "Ah-h ... "

"Slowly, Adelaide," she chided. "You don't wanna orgasm too soon. It's a lot harder to have multiples as a male." Those fangs, again. Lightly biting against his neck, very nearly piercing skin. Her muffled voice continuing, "If you feel a tingling sensation creeping up the base, that means you're about to cum. Ease off when that happens."

A fervent, distracted nod, and after another minute or so, he began to feel that tingling. Oh, it felt so good. He wanted it to tingle more! His paw flew. He hadn't the willpower to stop such a wonderful feeling.

Luckily, the bat anticipated this. And used a wing arm to shoo his paw away. Rolling him over onto his side. Their heads sinking into the pillows.

"I'm ... s-sorry, Field." The mouse's ears were burning.

"It's okay." She smiled, sweetly.

"Matter over mind, after all?" he managed, recovering from the sensation. Which left him hornier than ever. "But I want you so badly, and you're me, so ... does that mean I want myself?"

"Like I said: our love made us one long before this happened," she reasoned. "We should enjoy this while we can."

"My passionate thing ... oh, Field ... "

"Mm-h ... ?"

"Sixty-nine?" he blurted.

The bat's heart skipped a beat. "Yes."

"Good. Cause I wasn't gonna take no for an answer." Using the mouse's muscles, Adelaide effortlessly returned Field to her back. He licked her cheek, possessively before sitting up and turning around, slowly. His tail soon dangling in front of her face. "I wanna feel your wings wrapped up around my body."

"Adelaide, am I supposed to make you ... "

" ... no. No, not yet." A pause. "We weren't giving muzzle when the incident occurred. We were having intercourse. I just want to feel this, though. Your maw around my ... my cock ... " It felt so odd to say that and yet so right, somehow, at the same time.

"How will we know when to get into final position?"

"When we start feeling electricity in the air. I felt it a few minutes before the bolt hit." A hurried huff. "No more talking," he decided, laying himself down and lifting his hips. That thick, modest penis dangling above the bat's gaping maw, hard as a rock.

Her tongue whipped out, experimentally, curling around the middle of the shaft before she'd even thought about it. It was just instinct. Squeezing it a few times, she then had it slither up the underside, finally toying with the head.

"Oh, Field ... you're getting' a hang o' that," the mouse slurred, lustily, as his nose found itself between her legs. "That's amazing. Oh. Y-yeah ... uh-h ... " Using his paws to pry those pink thighs apart, he began to dine, himself. A bit roughly, at first. His whiskers twitched against her vulva.

The bat chittered, bucking up. " ... w-whoa," she scolded. Too much stimulation, too fast!

"Sorry. Mm-h, got carried away ... "

"Cunnilingus is an art," Field told him, proudly. "It requires finesse."

"Well, you've had plenty of ... mm, mmf. Practice." Lick, suck. "This is my ... " Nibble. " ... f-first time." Oh, but he ate her out, and it was wild. To see his ... er, her pussy, her body? Up close? She'd tasted this on Field's tongue before. Last night, even. But this was so much more than a taste! "I can ... uh-h, see why you like this," the mouse moaned, back arching, tail hanging like a melting question mark above their naked bodies. Or maybe, in fact ... like a lightning rod? The sudden thought made him weave his tail downward, to safety. Just in case ...

It was pouring down rain, now. The roof was being assaulted. But they hardly noticed. How could they?

The bat's muzzle was full. She'd taken him in, letting him marinate. It was so firm, yet the flesh so smooth. And, goodness, was it hot! She began to bob and twist, drawing pre from it. Slightly salty. And a mix of other flavors she wasn't coherent enough to describe. Having it in her maw gave her a surge of power. She felt so confident, so in control. She had his most prized possession between her fangs.

"Ah-h, ah," the mouse whined, lapping at the bat's clitoris. Forcing a finger into her vagina, rubbing the most sensitive part of her walls.

She was unprepared for the double assault, and ... oh, oh! Tightened her wing-arms around him, shaking, slurping her way off his cock, drooling, white fangs shimmering in the dark. She had to breathe. Air! The climax crashed into her like a wave, washing her away for a few seconds. What ... the ... ? She hardly knew what'd happened until she heard him ask her if she was okay.

"You just had an orgasm, Field." He rubbed her hips, reassuringly.

" ... it was like ... my whole body ... " The words faded in and out. She sucked air, nuzzling his erect cock against her cheek. Pre and saliva matting the pink fur there. Now that she knew what it was like and what to expect? Now that she was prepared for it? "Oh, I wanna feel that again!"

"You will, baby. I promise," the mouse said, hotly, already in the process of repositioning himself yet again. He laid atop her, but in the same direction this time. Dipped his hips, frantically, so desperate for penetration, he wasn't even going to ask for it. It came immediately. As his thick, five-inch penis slipped into her sopping-wet vagina, time seemed to stop. He held his breath. It was like a jolt went up through his shaft, into the core of him. W-wow ... he began to whimper, grinding into her. Sloppy, erratic humps, feeling his balls swelling and tightening. Oh, so much ... stimulation ...

"S-slow ... slower. Smoother," the bat breathed, between flashes of ecstasy, eyes rolling back. But it was no use. She gave up, succumbing, her tunnel so full! Walls collapsing upon him like a ready-made glove. A sheath. A scabbard to his sword. He plunged in, and quickly withdrew, only to plow forward again. Back and forth. That was it! Easy, rhythmic! How could something so simple spawn such complex feelings? Beneath him, the bat broke down and begged for more. "A-adelaide ... "

The mouse reached under her, gripping her ass. Parting her rump cheeks, massaging her tail-base. "You forgot to put your bow on his morning. It makes you ... mm, look so pretty."

"I k-know ... " Her toes curled, helplessly, her heels digging into the backs of his thighs. "Uh ... "

"Who's my girl?" he panted, paws sliding up and under her back. Hugging her against his body, pounding her pussy, freely. Slap, squelch ... hump ...

"I ... I am ... "

"Mm-h. Mm ... you want my cock ... "

No denial!

"You wanna cum for me ... "

Only moans!

"It feels so powerful. L-like ... like a canon. It's going to go off ... "

The bat was delirious, now. Enjoying this. Submitting to it. Adelaide, dizzy with testosterone, was being even more aggressive than normal. Everything was amped up. They humped each other silly. The bed creaked, the mattress bouncing. Headboards tapping against the wall. Bam, bam ... bam ... the air, meanwhile, seemed to sizzle with lust. They were nothing but animals, now, copulating, mating. Doing nature's sly, programmed bidding. The love was there, yes. The passion. Always. But they were merely steps in a billion year-old dance.

" ... oh, fuck, yes ... y-yes!" The mouse squeaked, golden ass blurring. He motored into his mate, tail swerving straight up. Then zipping down and coiling around the bat's ankle. So close. Oh, so ... so ... close. "Yes! F-field ... " Adelaide gasped, sucking air, sloppily hilting, and ejaculating for the very first time. Filling his mate's womb with millions of mouse sperm.

She couldn't respond. Just couldn't. Too dumbfounded by her own experience. The first orgasm, by muzzle, had been nice, like a cresting wave. This, though? This was a tsunami! It obliterated her senses. Her body went into involuntary spasms, vagina fluttering, awash in heat. Milking him dry. She squeaked and chittered. And, then, finally, let forth that echo-burst. Which, like the night before, never made it back to those well-honed ears.

It was swallowed up by the sonic boom.

The one following the electric flash.

Everything back to black.

Saturday morning.

No work and no alarm.

They woke up in each other's wings and arms.

The storm had passed.

Neither said a word, and neither needed to. They had their own bodies back. Male and female, as born. Mouse was mouse, bat was bat. They simply smiled, looking to each other with love and affection, and began to laugh ...