FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Machine gun fire chattered in the distance, each rapidly succeeding sonic boom of a round fired from an RPK dying out in the rolling hills of Afghanistan's Korengal Valley; one of the deadliest locations in the country. This was the soundtrack to which the soldiers of Charlie Company's 2nd Platoon went about their daily lives. Sometimes close, sometimes far, the intensity of the day's engagement invariably depended on just how much fight the enemy had brought with them that day. Skirmishes were generally short, and could usually be ended rather quickly by a battery of high explosive, delivered via their 120mm mortar, nicknamed 'Chelsea'.

Trading the normalcy that was sheetrock, brick, and concrete for the sand and dirt filling the HESCO bastions that formed the walls of the firebase they called home wasn't easy for the first couple of months, especially considering that with each round fired from the mortar, bits of earth rained down from the ceiling onto unsuspecting heads. At the very least, time passed quickly when the rounds were flying, and they flew just about every day. Sometimes for five minutes, other times, for hours on end. For the soldiers of Charlie Company, it was always just another day at the office.

Downtime was common, but entertainment was scarce. Free time was often spent either further fortifying the firebase with sandbags, or conducting weapons maintenance. Considering the volume of fire put through their weapons, proper upkeep was of utmost importance, but it wasn't as though they were forced to remain silent while performing such a mundane task.

With little else than each other to rely on for entertainment (and comic relief in some cases), soldiers often took to reminiscing, drawing on life's humorous experiences in impromptu stand-up comedy. While just about everyone came from a different walk of life, with the exception of a few similarities here and there, each and every one of them had at least one or two good stories to tell, some of which had gained such popularity that their minstrels were often called upon to recite them time and time again.

One such minstrel was a combat medic by the name of Alex 'Killer' Killian, who brought with him a tale so outrageous, those who heard it for the first time were often skeptical through to the end. Just like his multiple combat tours in the Middle East, it was a memory he was certain he would take with him to the grave, though not one he was so sure he would want to tell his grandchildren...

***

"Willy Pete, Willy Pete!"

Over the gunfire echoing off the hills, one of the mortarmen called loudly for white phosphorous rounds, so that he might launch them at the enemy from their position. Calls of 'firing!' could be heard every few seconds, followed by a round, the report of which was deafening, even with the aid of ear protection.

Inside the firebase, Specialist Killian was busy with an Infantryman who had suffered a grazing wound to his left arm; deep enough to draw blood, but superficial enough to earn him a little time out of the fight, a bandage, and a pat on the back with a prescription for the Army's cure-all: drink water.

"Thanks Killer." Private Rodriguez said. Rendering a friendly slap on the back, Rodriguez donned his body armor vest and grabbed his rifle on the way out, but found himself having to press his body up against the door to make way for a screaming, shrieking wreck of a soldier who was being hauled inside, flanked by the two soldiers carrying him. He couldn't walk, and it was readily apparent why. A serious and immediately life-threatening wound to his thigh was gushing blood at an alarming rate; a stomach-turner for even experienced, hardened medics like Killian. It wasn't the gore. Far from it. It was the matter of life and death; knowing that if he didn't act quickly with the right decisions at the right times, the wounded soldier would die under his care.

"Get him on the cot!" Ordered Killian, to which the two soldiers carrying the wounded laid him down on the canvas litter. The skunk's hand shot through the cabinet containing the medical supplies, upsetting several items on its way to the necessary fix. Ripping the soldier's trousers open near the injury, he tore open the package containing the dressing, discarded it, and shoved it down into the gaping wound, the hemostatic bandage clotting the blood within seconds. Unfortunately, for the wounded and for Specialist Killian, his work was not over yet.

"Where's he hit?" Asked the skunk, as the wounded soldier did not appear to be able to speak. Having lost a substantial amount of blood, he was understandably lightheaded, confused, and drifting in and out of consciousness. Killian checked his pulse, noting an expected and substantial drop in blood pressure.

"He took a round to the chest! Bastards are using steel penetrator rounds; they punch right through unless they hit the plate. Same thing happened with those two guys Golf Company lost last week!" Sergeant Farrell shouted over the sound of outgoing fire. Killian pulled the rip cord out of Specialist Yeager's CIRAS, jettisoning the armor system and throwing the individual pieces to the floor in order to access the wound underneath.

"Jesus, it's a sucking chest wound...Sergeant Farrell, call in a MEDEVAC, we need to get him out of here! We're looking at a collapsed lung and he needs blood!"

"Negative! The area's too hot; we're not going to be able to get a bird in here!"

Killian swore, digging the dog's ID tags out from under his shirt and glancing at them.

"O-Negative. Shit luck, we need another O-Neg, find me someone with O-Negative blood and get them in here, we're going to have to do a transfusion!" Ordered the medic of Sergeant Farrell, who dashed outside while the former went to work treating the tension pneumothorax.

"Hang in there Yeager, I'm not gonna let you die. Not here..." Killian said while cutting the tan T-shirt open, and even though Specialist Yeager couldn't speak, he could still hear, and that little bit of hope could go a long way. Grabbing an MRE and some duct tape, the skunk took the scissors and cut the brown packaging into two squares, taping one on three sides over the entrance wound (allowing air to escape, but not enter) and on all four sides over the exit. Turning the wounded onto the injured side to allow for better breathing, Killian waited. It was all that he could do until a viable donor was produced, or a MEDEVAC could be secured. Across the room, Private Rodriguez was calling it in, in spite of the danger of doing so.

"Alex..." The wounded dog whispered weakly, getting the medic's attention.

"Not now, buddy, you need to take it easy. I'm going to get you out of here, okay?"

"Tell me the story."

"What? No, come on man, we don't have time for that!"

"Come on...while we're waiting. I want to hear it one last time."

"Don't say that! Don't..." Killian snapped, but stopped short when he choked up in realization of the true gravity of the situation. The skunk had done everything he could do, and had done it well, but he wasn't a miracle worker. While he could perform a field blood transfusion, he couldn't conjure up a blood donor out of nowhere, nor could he a MEDEVAC. The fact was that Yeager's chances for survival were slim. Alex nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Okay...okay. But this isn't going to be the last time you hear this story, all right?"

Specialist Yeager smiled weakly and gave his friend a thumbs-up.

"Rodriguez, you hear this one yet?"

"Negative!"

"All right. Strap yourself in, you're gonna get a kick out of this." Killian said, wheeling a folding chair about and sitting in it backwards, folding his arms and leaning on the backrest. "This story takes place in my hometown of Erie, Pennsylvania, when I was young, dumb, and full of cum."

Everyone in the room chuckled, all but Rodriguez knowing the recitation from there on. For the soldiers of Charlie Company, it never got old.

***

1999

The soothing sounds of blink 182 were interrupted abruptly by the door being buffeted against the jamb repeatedly until the music was turned down low enough that the fourteen year-old Alex could counter-protest against his Mother's wishes for silence in the house.

Lanky and lean, greasy-haired and lazy, Alex was the stereotypical teen, the kind who would put an empty milk carton back into the refrigerator because the trashcan was full. He was hardly the motivated type and his grades reflected it. Needless to say, his parents were in for quite the shock when he enlisted in the Army.

"Alex, your Father and I are leaving for Mr. Florence's retirement party; we'll be home late tonight. Chelsea will be here in a few moments to keep an eye on the house." Mrs. Killian said through the locked door, which seconds later, was flung open to reveal a shocked and appalled Alex.

"What? Mom! I'm fourteen years old now, I don't need a babysitter!"

"Well, last time we left you alone in the house, you showed us you couldn't be trusted. Oh, Alex, don't think of her as a babysitter, think of her more as a...parole officer."

Alex's face sank with dejection. Jeez, get caught sampling the liquor cabinet one time and you're branded a criminal forever.

"Sorry, I guess that was a bad analogy."

"Mom, we go to the same school! She's a senior, and I'm a freshman. Do you realize how much she could destroy the next four years of my life if she wanted to?" Alex protested. Mrs. Killian scoffed at the notion.

"Now why on earth would she do that? Chelsea's a nice girl!"

"Because she's an upperclassman, pretty, and popular! All she would have to do is tell everyone that Alex Killian's mommy doesn't let him stay at home by himself and that will follow me for my entire High School career!"

"Oh, Alex. Trust me, when you get out of High School and you have a good paying job, you can go to your High School reunion with a big smile on your face because you'll know that popularity doesn't amount to anything once you're out in the real world."

Pfft. Moms. They never get it. Somewhere downstairs, Mr. Killian was looking at his watch and calling upstairs for his wife to make haste, lest they be late for the party. Alex's shoulders sank - that could only mean that Chelsea had already arrived, and he couldn't even begin to fathom how awkward it probably was for her, too. He couldn't imagine being a senior in High School and being asked to come look after someone only four years his junior for a night. It didn't make sense. Kids his age were supposed to be preparing for the independence of the real world, right? He sighed. Things probably weren't as bad as they seemed. After all, if he played his cards right, he wouldn't even have to interact with her. She'd likely wind up getting paid to sit on the couch and watch TV, or call her boyfriend or whatever girls did.

Girls. Most young boys' biggest weakness. Some had more game than others did, but Alex was unfortunate to have none. Many times a day he snuck looks out from under his mop of black hair at girl's chests, but he never had the balls to even talk to them, much less try to score like every other boy his age was. Every day, he filled his mind with mental snapshots from the school day, and masturbated to them once he got home.

Alex half-heartedly listened to the chatting downstairs between his parents and Chelsea, scowling at his Mother's insistence that he avoid the liquor cabinet and perusing adult websites on the computer. Turning the music back up, the skunk turned once more to his homework, figuring that if he focused on that, he could make the time pass quicker, and Chelsea wouldn't hear a peep from him, and vice versa.

An hour passed, and as the sun began its final descent below the treetops, Alex yawned and laid his pencil down, sheets of algebra homework bearing his chicken scratch. Nature called. Pushing his chair out from the desk, the skunk padded across the hall to the bathroom. Downstairs in the living room, the TV could be heard. Alex entered the bathroom, did his business, and as he flushed the toilet, he groaned to see that the bowl began to fill, rather than empty. Shutting off the valve, he began to search the bathroom for the plunger, which was nowhere to be found.

"Just my luck..." He murmured, realizing that he would have to go downstairs to get the one from the hall bathroom. So much for staying upstairs.

At the top of the staircase, Alex took a deep breath, and having been vain enough to change clothes and fix himself up a little bit, the boost of confidence gave him just enough to walk downstairs and grab the plunger from the guest bathroom. Step by step, he began his trek down the staircase, eventually reaching the bottom and taking a breath - he hadn't since he'd been at the top. He squared his shoulders and kept his head up and strode into the living room, only to find that Chelsea was nowhere in sight. Not wishing to stick around for her to find him, the skunk made a beeline for the bathroom, locating the plunger and turning to exit, only to see something he immediately wished he hadn't.

Behind the glass, French doors leading into his Father's study, Chelsea stood eyeing the multiple bottles of various liquors that stocked the small wet bar inside the office. Silently, he watched as she grabbed a small shot glass and selected a particular brand of whiskey, pulling the stopper out of the top and pouring a shot of the amber liquid into the glass. Alex cringed as she tossed it back, wondering if that was the first one she'd had.

"Hey."

Chelsea nearly dropped the eighty-dollar bottle of whiskey in her hand when Alex snuck up behind her, the plunger still in his hand. In haste, she replaced it in the lineup of bottles, trying in vain to pretend as if nothing had happened.

"Oh! Hey."

"What're you doing?"

"Look, don't tell them, ok?" She said with trepidation in her voice, looking confusedly at the toilet plunger in the skunk's hand.

"You know, my Dad's going to notice that there's alcohol missing in those bottles, and he's going to think that I drank it." Alex explained, pointing to the bar with the plunger.

"You can just refill it up to where it was with water, that's what I do at home." The vixen explained, pretending like it was no big deal.

"Your parents must not be connoisseurs like my Dad. You think I didn't think of that the first time I tried it? That's the only reason why they wanted you here. It's not like I can't take care of myself, y'know." The slight tangent Alex went off on in defense of his own independence threw her for a loop, and her eyes darted to the side in brief thought before she asked a question.

"You're not going to tell them, are you?"

"I mean...I guess not. I don't see why I would, I -"

Alex's eyes went wide as saucers and the plunger clattered to the floor of the office as Chelsea closed the distance between the two of them and pressed the end of her muzzle right up against his, her hands cupping his rapidly reddening cheeks. After a few seconds, she pulled away, blushing quite evidently herself.

"There. Deal?" She said; hope lingering in her voice. What issued from the skunk's muzzle next was beyond anything even Alex himself would have imagined he'd ever have the courage to say.

"One more." He whispered; his eyes lidded. Chelsea drew in a breath and sighed, though not with annoyance. Nodding, she leaned in and sealed her muzzle once more against his, this time, for a little longer, and with a slight parting of the lips to boot. To Alex, it was pure heaven. Though the taste of peat lingered in her mouth, it was magic - like nothing he'd ever experienced before in his life. After a few more seconds, he leaned into the kiss and took a step closer to her, his hands wandering up to her chest and squeezing her breasts through her shirt.

"Mmf-hey!" She said, backing up quickly and breaking the kiss. "I agreed to kiss you; I didn't say you could feel me up!" Protested Chelsea, clearly angered by the skunk's sudden show of brazenness. This was nothing like the timid, shy boy she passed in the halls at school. Nothing like the Alex Killian she'd heard about. Nothing like the quiet skunk that the jocks made fun of every at chance they got. "It's not like I'm going to let you do whatever you want to me just so you won't tell your parents I took a shot from their liquor cabinet. I'll just as soon take that fall versus getting fucked by a twit like you."

"Sorry about that. So uh...real or fake?" He asked, managing a cheesy, albeit cute grin, his gleaming white teeth bearing stark contrast against the black and slightly pink white fur on his face. Chelsea recoiled slightly, staring at him with a look not of scorn or disgust, but rather with befuddlement.

"You mean you couldn't tell?" She asked boorishly, her lip curling a little.

Now it was Alex's turn to be taken aback. That was certainly not the answer he'd expected; in fact, he'd expected to be slapped right across the face. Then again, that's what he had expected the moment he groped her. It would have been worth it, he figured. Cross that one off the bucket list.

"I dunno, I mean, I haven't really ever...felt..." Alex's eyes danced, but he kept himself from fidgeting, or glancing down at the floor in nervousness. Maybe it was the nervousness he was sure she was feeling as well that gave him solace.

"You've never felt a breast before?" She asked skeptically. He shook his head in response.

"No, I'm a virgin." He admitted, blushing harder. "I've never even had a girlfriend."

Chelsea smirked.

"You're probably not even trying. I mean, yeah, I'm a little out of your league, but it's not like you're ugly or anything."

Oh, thanks, Alex thought. That must be a nice way of telling someone they're just average. In the awkward silence that followed the vixen's statement, the skunk made the mistake of looking down once he realized that the feeling of Chelsea's breasts in his grip had given him a full-on stiffy. Following suit, she looked down wide-eyed at the crotch of his pants to see the imprint of what was obviously an erection, and a big one at that.

"Oh my God...is that your dick?" She asked in disbelief, as if it could be anything else. No, moron, I shoved a dildo down in there to make it look like I'm bigger than I actually am, he thought to himself, not daring to say such a thing, but even if he could, he'd have probably opted for the brazen inquiry that issued from his muzzle anyway.

"Yeah. You want to see it?"

Once again, the tables had turned, and their chance meeting in Mr. Killian's office had turned into a game of wits, the quiet and shy matched against the pretty and popular. Surprisingly enough, the former was holding his own. Before Chelsea could even respond, the skunk bravely began to unbutton his pants, and gripping them at the waist, he pulled them down along with his boxer shorts, the thick, pink boner bouncing out and standing at attention in front of the shocked vixen. He blushed harder than he'd ever blushed in his entire life as his crush stood there, wide-eyed and mouth agape, staring at what he did not know was the biggest cock she'd ever seen in her life. Alex's erect penis was pushing eight inches in length, and was almost as thick as her wrist.

"Holy shit! You're fucking huge!"

"I...wouldn't know." Alex said, his face burning. It wasn't like he'd seen a lot of other guy's dicks. Jeez, what a shallow twat. If he was going to score with her, it was only because he was bigger than most of the toys she had back at home, and certainly bigger than the douchebag jock that she was going out with. Not that it mattered to him; he wasn't complaining. Figuring she'd seen enough, Alex tugged his shorts and jeans back up around his hips, securing the studded belt and flipping his chin-length black hair back, unintentionally looking quite attractive as he did so. No sooner than he had done that, the biggest surprise of the night - and up to that point, his life - hit him like a ton of bricks.

Throwing her arms around his shoulders, Chelsea pulled the skunk in and drove her muzzle straight into his, her tongue diving in between his lips and into his mouth, kissing him for the third time, deep, strong, and for a good, solid thirty seconds. It took about that long for Alex to relax, the tension in his entire body fading as he leaned into the most passionate kiss of his entire life, and for close to two minutes, they simply stood there in the office, snogging like it was the last night of their lives.

Chelsea broke the kiss, hot breath intermingling in between their parted lips, their noses touching, their faces burning. Their game of wits was turning out to be a draw. Back-and-forth witticisms had faded into minutes past, and they were only beginning to get physical.

"How about we fix that little virgin status you're hanging on to?" She asked, her eyes half-lidded, flesh burning bright red beneath her fur. Alex smacked his lips and breathed a short sigh, his heart racing even faster.

"Don't you have a boyfriend?" He exhaled the question.

"If you could even call him that..." Chelsea began, the soft palm of her hand caressing his throbbing length through the denim of his blue jeans. "...he's a pompous jerk half the time, and he's got a small dick. Well, compared to you at least."

"I guess the only thing that makes me appealing is the size of my dick, huh?" Alex asked, his tone indicative of a slight withdrawal from the heat conjuring between them. She shrugged her arms and smiled a little, still wrapped around his shoulders.

"I'd be lying if I said that had nothing to do with it. Then again, enigmatic, quiet guys like you have always been kind of a guilty pleasure of mine. Don't think I've never noticed you checking me out in the halls, either..." That little bit she added at the end caused Alex to clench his teeth a little and avert his eyes, realizing he hadn't perpetrated his glances in secret. Also, enigmatic? Hell of a word. Maybe she wasn't as much of a blonde bimbo as he thought. He scolded himself silently. "...but for now, let's just enjoy the moment."

Alex's heart began to race faster as the vixen smiled saucily and slowly sank to her knees in front of him, her hands finding their way to his recently fastened belt, running the leather through the buckle and leaving it dangling there as she went for the button.

"Just relax."

Easier said than done, he thought. By now, his heart was thumping so hard and so fast in his chest, he was almost afraid to have sex with her; he might wind up in the emergency room. Focusing his attention on the fact that his shorts were clearing his ass for the second time that night, he felt the cool air on his cock as it bounced out. Alex thrust his head upward, staring up at the decorative crossbeams on the ceiling. Even he knew that if he watched, he wasn't going to last. He could feel her hot breath on his flesh. Her soft hand encircling it, stroking it slowly and gently. Her lips brushing against the tip a few times before enveloping it in the warm, wet cavern that was her muzzle.

"Mmm..." She hummed out, sending light vibrations through his shaft, and Alex looked down in shock to see his stiff length disappearing into Chelsea's muzzle. Bit by bit, she slid his member into her mouth, using her rough, canine tongue to tease and tamper with it, getting it nice and slick. Mouth wide, she held it tightly to her tongue as she pulled it out of her mouth, stroking the underside with the prehensile flesh. Before the skunk could even vocalize in words how good it felt, she was back to work, sliding him into her muzzle and thrusting her head fore and aft, sucking fervently on his girth.

His knees went weak. His hands trembled. His breathing became labored, and despite his better judgment, he looked down. There in front of him, on her knees, was one of the hottest girls in the entirety of the student body, and there was his penis, hard as a rock and disappearing over and over into her muzzle, those bright, blue eyes gazing right back up at him the whole time. Even if he didn't already know, he'd easily be able to guess that Chelsea had done this before. Her technique was perfect. Alternating the length of her draws. Speed. Pressure. And as if that wasn't enough, her hands found their way up his thighs to caress and fondle his balls, as well as whatever amount of his length she wasn't trying to swallow.

Don't cum. Don't cum. Don't cum. DON'T. CUM.

Alex's fervent desire to avoid climax became his silent mantra as he tried to keep his hips from rocking his pecker into the vixen's wanton muzzle. Thoughts began to run their course through his mind about what she was expecting. Was she planning on having sex, too? Was he supposed to hold out, or did she want him to ejaculate in her mouth?

Too late. Alex let fly with a loud groan as his climax hit him, and he watched in horror as he came, Chelsea's nose pressed right up against his pubic area. Feeling her muzzle grow thick with his load, the hot spunk surrounding his throbbing shaft - his head began to swim from the intense orgasm he was experiencing, or he was hyperventilating from how hard he was breathing. One of the two.

Cleaning off his slick, wet cock with one smooth draw, Chelsea closed her mouth and swallowed the load, rubbing her chin off on the back of her hand, grinning up at him. Before the skunk could apologize for his premature ejaculation, Chelsea was peeling her shirt off, tossing it across the room and onto the floor.

The night was getting better and better.

Chelsea laid down on the overstuffed leather sofa in Alex's Dad's office, unbuttoning her jeans and sliding them off, leaving her in a matching yellow bra and panty set. Beckoning him over, Alex got the idea, and quickly doffed his own shirt before kicking his pants off from around his ankles.

He looked good naked. Even he knew that. While he lacked the definition that the muscle-bound jocks had, that wasn't what he was after. Lithe, but with a fair amount of muscle, the leanness of his body only accentuated the size of his dick, still half-erect, still wet, and swinging to and fro as he approached the couch, climbing on.

Alex was nervous. There was no doubt about that, but he was doing his damndest not to show it. At that point, he was being as brash as he wanted to be; it seemed as though that's what she was into, anyway. With that in mind, he reached down and grabbed her panties, smiling a little as she lifted her butt up to aid in sliding them off. With one good pull, he removed them and tossed them over his shoulder, landing them on the bookcase while Chelsea reached back and unbuckled her bra, grinning as he removed that with eagerness.

To say that her naked form in front of him was a dream come true would be the understatement of the century, albeit quite literally so. Many a night had been spent dreaming of the angel in front of him, and while blurry, quickly forgotten nocturnal images were poor material for masturbation, what was surely about to happen was going to make up for all the times his subconscious had cheated him.

Not selfish by any means, Alex figured he's try something he'd seen in plenty of porn flicks. Chelsea readily spread her legs open, revealing to him the pink slit in between her legs, already wet enough that he'd have no trouble fitting his massive schlong inside of her. Surprisingly enough, he was still hard.

"Look, I know it's your first time, I don't expect you to last for a long time or know how to do everything, I-ah!"

Chelsea cried out, her toes curling and her head going slack on the stuffed arm of the couch as Alex's tongue found her clitoris, lapping furiously at it. She hadn't been expecting that, and he knew it. If his mouth hadn't been preoccupied with her pussy, he might have smiled in lieu of that little victory. All that porn watching was about to pay off. Though not nearly as skilled with his tongue as Chelsea was with her entire mouth, Alex seemed to have no problem getting the vixen to grip at the sofa, the leather creaking under her grip, her teeth clenched in the anticipation of having him inside of her.

"Get up here..." She gave a little tug to his shoulders, and he clambered on top of her, supporting himself with his arms extended in a push-up position. Reaching down, Chelsea grabbed his cock by its base, and chuckling a little at the fact that he was still rock hard, she guided him to her entrance, placing the dripping, bulging tip right up against her slit.

"Push." The all-too-eager skunk didn't have to be told twice. The vixen tossed her head back once again, crying out in ecstasy as he filled her with his girth, the smooth interior of her vagina squeezing him tightly. Alex closed his eyes and gasped as he hilted himself inside of her, noting that a good inch or so of his length would not be able to fit inside of her. He would chalk that up as another small victory, on top of the huge victory that was fucking the girlfriend of one of the school bullies. Just the thought of that alone was nearly erection-inducing.

Immediately, and with vigor and motivation, the skunk began to buck his hips and thrust his massive cock in and out of her, drawing it almost all the way out before driving it home with enough force that he thought he might hurt her. With that in mind, he slowed his pace a little after the first few thrusts, but she didn't seem to mind how he did it, as long as that big meat was working in and out of her like a piston in an engine. And he was definitely a big-block.

The sight itself was mesmerizing; like live-action porn. Every moan, every grunt, every moist sound that emanated from the joining of their bodies, the smells, the sights - it was sensory overload. It was literally intoxicating. Just the sight of her perky breasts bouncing with each revolution was near hypnotizing. His elbows ached from lockout, his muscles were on fire, but he barely noticed.

"Shouldn't I be wearing a condom?"

"I'm on the pill, don't worry, you can cum inside me." She panted out, meeting his thrusts as best as she could with her own. Pulling back sharply, she popped his stiffy out from inside her, pushing the skunk onto his back on the couch before climbing on top of him, mixing it up a little.

"I figured I'd let you give those arms a break." Chelsea said. Grabbing his dripping member by the base, she held it upright in between her legs, lining up the tip with her sopping wet entrance. One inch and she couldn't hold back a moan. Just the head of Alex's dick parting her vulva was nearly enough to induce climax for both of them. Thankfully, the skunk managed to fight it off, watching as his length disappeared into Chelsea's tight, wet pussy. Now the show was really about to start. With Chelsea doing most of the work, Alex was free to simply watch her ride his dick, bouncing up and down, drawing and sheathing his cock from her like breaking in a leather gun holster. With each bounce of her body came an entrancing bounce of her perfectly sized breasts - not too big, not too small - the pert, erect nipples capping them off perfectly. While his manhood slid in and out of her, his hands slid up her thighs, caressing her hips and wandering up to her breasts, which he squeezed gently, her own hands covering his and palpating along with them.

"Want me to take the reins again?" Alex asked after a few minutes of this, wanting to try one of his favorite positions - to watch in porn, anyway. In agreement, Chelsea climbed off and got down on her knees on the floor, leaning forward on the couch while the skunk knelt down behind her. Rubbing his tip teasingly at the entrance and slapping it against her clit, it seemed like the inexperienced skunk knew just how to make her scream.

"I have a hard time believing you're a virgin..." Panted the vixen, looking behind her.

"Lots of watching porn, I guess. And hey - I'm not a virgin anymore, am I?"

Chelsea could only shake her head a little before Alex penetrated her from behind, rocking his hips quickly; rhythmically pumping in and out of her as he reached around to rub her clitoris with a finger. This, combined with the impact of his balls against it was driving the vixen close to the edge. It was his first time, and he was a better fuck than her boyfriend. He probably would have finished five minutes ago, if he could have even stayed hard after a blowjob. As a matter of fact, it was almost beginning to hurt.

"Alex..." She groaned out, moaning his name. Alex looked down at her, flabbergasted. It was the first time she'd ever addressed him by his name. In fact, it was probably the first time she'd ever addressed him by anything. He couldn't tell if she was trying to get his attention for something, or if she was simply calling his name out in ecstasy. He went with the former.

"Yeah..."

"Let's get back on the couch. I want you on top of me again."

"Okay."

Together, they climbed up onto the couch and resumed their first position, but Chelsea was having none of the locked arms business. Wrapping her arms around him, she pulled him down towards her until their bodies were pressed together, sharing their warmth between them.

So this is what it feels like, Alex thought as he continued to push, but slower as he began to tire. He couldn't think of anywhere else he'd rather have been at that moment, pressed up against her perfect body, her breasts smashed against his own chest, their bodies intermingling in a way he'd only dreamed they one day would.

"Chelsea, I can feel it...I'm going to cum..." Groaned the skunk, his cheek pressed against hers, his face in the leather couch.

"Me too..." She whispered, and even though her eyes were closed and therefore did not see it coming, her lips readily welcomed his as he kissed her long and deep just as she had done earlier. The feeling in Alex's loins began to creep up on him, and in a matter of seconds, he was preparing to spill yet another load inside of her, feeling her get much wetter than she already was, and listening to her moan hard into their kiss. He could only guess that she was climaxing as well. In his lack of experience, he didn't know any better, but she seemed to be enjoying it nonetheless. A few final pumps sent the skunk over the edge, and he deepened the kiss even more, pushing his cock as far up inside of her as he could, shooting a load rivaling that of the last one inside of her, relishing for several seconds in the afterglow of their coitus.

He didn't even bother pulling out. For the next few minutes until his erection subsided and slipped out on its own, the two of them lay there on the sofa, kissing incessantly. Finally, their lips parted, and if there was going to be any awkwardness, it didn't have time to set in; for just as their lips parted, so did the double doors of the lavish home in which the skunk lived with his parents, who seemed to have forgotten something at home. Both of them froze where they were. Adjacent to the entryway and with glass doors, it wasn't as though their choice of venue for having sex gave them time or cover for getting dressed again.

"We're home Alex, we forgot Mr. Florence's gift, I - aiiieeeee!" Mrs. Killian screamed as she turned and saw the two of them on the couch in the office, to which Mr. Killian swung around and gazed upon the sight with mouth agape. Unable to find anything to say, the male skunk finally turned to his wife, the two of them exchanging a shocked look before turning back to the pair on the couch.

"Hey guys..." Alex said sheepishly, waving. Mr. Killian turned to his wife.

"See? I told you he's not gay!"

***

The makeshift infirmary erupted with laughter as Specialist 'Killer' Killian finished his story, laughing quite loudly himself at the shocked look on Rodriguez's face. Sergeant Farrell had returned with a viable donor, and Specialist Killian had finished the story while performing a transfusion on the now-resting Yeager.

"So...what happened after that?" Rodriguez asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

"Ahh, that'll be a story for another time, my friend. One I'm sure you'll hear over and over as well." Killian explained while making sure that everything was squared away with Specialist Yeager. Outside, the fire had died down, and 'Chelsea' had effectively neutralized most of the day's opposition, allowing the MEDEVAC helicopter to be flown in.

Rotors whipped around dust and debris outside, and Sergeant Farrell, with the help of another soldier prepared to carry the wounded out to the helicopter while Alex produced the white envelope containing the letter the Specialist had written to his family in the event of his expiration. Resealing the pocket from which he'd pulled it, the medic leaned down and kissed his friend on the head, between the ears.

"Godspeed and good luck, my friend. I'll seeya."

Outside, watching the helicopter fly off into the mountains, Alex pulled out a cigarette and lit it, listening to the faraway pops and bangs of gunfire.

Sixty-two more days, he mused, recollecting how much time was left in their rotation at the firebase. He could only imagine how many more times his story would be recited in the company of his friends, but he didn't mind. Telling the story only served to let him relive some of his fondest memories - something he did at every turn he could. Tonight would be one of those turns, he decided.

***

"It never gets any easier." Alex whispered into the cell phone, lying on his cot and staring up at the ruddy, plywood ceiling above him.

"I know how hard that must be. Just think, a few more months and you'll be home."

"Yeah. Can't wait." Alex said with a sleepy smile, spinning his gold wedding band on his finger and watching the dim light from another room reflect off of it.

"So, how many times have you told them that story about our first time that night?" Asked the giggly voice on the other end of the line. Killian chuckled at the question.

"Ohhh, maybe fifteen or twenty."

Chelsea laughed.

"Well, here's to a re-enactment as soon as you get home." The blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty of a vixen cooed, making a kissing sound into the phone, chasing it with a teasing giggle.

"You always know how to get me going."

"I do. I know it's late there babe, I'll let you get some sleep. Stay safe, okay? I love you."

"I love you too."

Goodnight.