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The Silver Lining

By

Charles E. Terrell Jr

AKA Nightmask

http://www.furaffinity.net/user/nightmask/

"Damnit! Not Now!" Roger cursed as steam started to roll out from under the hood of his car, the horrible death rattle of the engine assaulting his ears as he pulled off to the side of lonely country road he was driving along. Slamming it into PARK he reached down to pull the hood release, continuing to curse softly as he grabbed up his jacket and hopped out and ran to the front. Using his jacket for protection he worked the second latch and the pushed the hood back, steam wrapping around him as the last of the water in the radiator boiled away.

It didn't take him long once the view cleared to see that the belt for the water pump had broken, quickly leading to the engine overheating till death claimed it. Damned if he wasn't having the worst luck, there should have at least been a warning light to warn him before things got that far. Now he was stranded along a road he hadn't met any traffic on in hours and the closest house that he knew of hours of walking behind him. What else could go wrong?

Well I can't stay here, he thought, his 'shortcut' didn't look like it saw traffic for days at a time. He might have been living out of his car but he couldn't go that long waiting on someone to show up, if they did before things got worse for him. Dropping the hood back in place he snatched up a flashlight in case it got too dark, locked up the car, and set his mind to heading back up to the house he'd seen and see if he could get some kind of help.

At least he was healthy enough for the walk, with a good mix of muscle on his otherwise slender six-foot frame. While at twenty he hadn't had the most active life he'd spent what time he could at gyms and working out on his own to keep himself in shape, rather than fall into the sedentary life style that so many computer techs had. His work clothes perhaps not the best choice for walking along a dusty road but he had little choice when he was down to just his work clothes after months of trying to find employment.

Probably halfway to the farmhouse he'd seen he felt a gust of cold wind from behind him, and could almost feel the sky darkening behind him. Looking back he saw the dark gray clouds that had been off in the distance were racing his way far faster than he'd realized and they weren't just gray but an angry gray at that laced with flashes of light within.

There wasn't any real cover that he could see, and he'd never make it back to his car before the storm caught up with him. Shifting into a run he shot up the road his jacket flopping up and down with his stride. He could tell he wasn't going to make it though as the ground grew dark and he felt the rumble of thunder rolling over him.

Wait! There! He could see a shed of some sort a ways off the road, just barely in sight of the house but not close enough for him to make it that far. Clicking on his flashlight as the rain started to pound onto him he stumbled as the dirt turned to mud at his feet and fumbled in the mud to retrieve it. The bright beam flashed ahead of him with the occasional lightning flare to give him some idea where the shed was while the rain soaked him to the bone.

Luckily the shed wasn't locked and he stumbled into the darkness, dripping water onto the hard wood floor. Gasping and shivering he collapsed onto the floor legs aching from the cold and the race. The water sucked the heat from his body as it splashed and soaked into the wood, all while outside it beat against the tin roof and sturdy sides of the shack and rattled the single shuttered window.

Once he'd recovered enough to move again fanned his light around the interior, taking note of an assortment of farm tools and equipment neatly arranged around the interior. To his great delight he saw that there were a few old but relatively clean tarps and a wood stove with a box of kindling nearby, and a kerosene lamp dangling from a hook on the wall.

Peeling off his wet shirt and wiping the worst of the wetness off of his chest and arms he set it aside and scanned the areas around the lantern and stove for something to light them up. His diligence was rewarded once he found several packages of wooden matches kept next to the kindling used to start the fire for the heavier pieces to burn properly. It was chilly, miserable work trying to set things up, with only the moving about to generate any heat at all to offset what the cold rain had taken from him. Disappointment ate at him when the first few matches failed to catch but the fourth managed to get a small fire working through the kindling, one he nursed carefully until he could insert a few larger pieces.

Oh that feels good! He thought once the fire was hot enough to start radiating into the rest of the shed its life-giving warmth. He lit the lantern too for good measure as he wasn't sure how long his flashlight could last, using it to peruse the shed in greater detail and make it easier to find things as he shucked the rest of his wet clothes safe for his underwear to hang on the tool hooks to dry. Embarrassing as it was to be nearly naked in someone's shed freezing to death would be worse. At least he had the tarps to use as crude blankets, and once morning came he could dress and finish up to the house to get help. Doing his best to get comfortable he set his watch to wake him sometime around dawn and after adding a few more sticks to the fire curled up to sleep.

---

"What do you think you're doing?!"

Roger jolted awake at the outraged demand that rang out in the small shed. Blinking in confusion he had to sort through his memories to even remember where he is before he could look over towards the doorway.

"I had to get out of the rain! This is the only place I could get to!" he stammered while looking up at the mature doe that stood glaring down at him.

She was a mature doe, easily into her forties or fifties from the look of her, with chocolate brown fur showing where it was exposed. Not that one could see much of her fur beyond that on her neck and head, for the heavy gray cotton dress she wore and matching sweater covered her from wrists to ankles with a simple matching pair of shoes to protect her feet from the mud. A more than ample bosom sagged beneath her sweater as he chest heaved from the shocked discovery of someone seemingly naked sleeping in her shed.

"Who are you? You aren't from around here," she inquired, her voice still on the high and demanding end, projecting control even though one could see that she seemed ready to bolt if he proved dangerous. Barely topping out at his chest she lacked the strength even with her work around the farm to handle the taller human if it came to that.

"Roger, Roger Leeds Ma'am. My car broke down up the road and I was coming back here for help when the storm blew in. I didn't think I could make it that far and came in here and well my clothes soaked so I had to get out of them and get warmed up," he explained, voice running on as he tried to diffuse her anger while his thoughts got sorted out. "I was going to dress and come up to the house once it was morning but my watch alarm didn't go off."

The doe seemed to take a moment to consider his story, her dark eyes doing their best to read his body language and expressions. Eyes running across the clothes hanging on the wall she could see that he hadn't come dressed as she'd expect some transient or low-life to be, and went along with his story as she hadn't seen any vehicles nearby.

"Well get your clothes on then," she told him, her expression and tone softening towards the young man. He did look awful covered in dust from her tarps and triggered her maternal instincts that had gone unsatisfied in far too long. "I'll be waiting outside for you, and you may call me Mrs. Henderson."

"Thank you Mrs. Henderson," he replied, waiting for her to close the door before discarding the tarps and going after his clothes. Dry though they were they were wrinkled, muddy in spots, and felt itchy and scratchy against his skin from the dirt. At least he felt presentable when he stepped outside where the old doe was waiting.

"Hmph, you look like you've been rolling in mud," she sniffed as she looked him over, noting the fitness in his limbs and how even matted from the rain his bright red hair seemed to set well upon his head while he looked back at her through crystal blue eyes.

"I couldn't help it, I slipped in the dark," he said, but still upset at appearing so unkempt and raggedy before her.

"Well come along you look like you could use some breakfast," she told him, waving towards a path made of concrete blocks leading up towards the house.

"Oh no I couldn't impose, I just need help for my car," he hedged, not wanting to bother the lapine more than he already had but at the mention of food his stomach growled loud enough even if she hadn't been a rabbit she'd have heard it clearly.

"I think you've been overruled," she chuckled throatily, a nice earthy chuckle that calmed and disarmed.

Blushing he nodded in reply to her, following her along the blocks that had been worn smooth by many years of feet padding along them.

"You can wash up in there," she said once they were inside, pointing towards a doorway across from them as they entered through the kitchen. An expansive kitchen that could have easily fed twelve yet filled with the homey touches one often expected from country farmhouses.

"Yes Ma'am," he respectfully replied, doing as he was told although could do little beyond cleaning up his hands and face. Still he felt much better for the chance by the time he rejoined her in the kitchen.

The sounds of cooking already under way greeted him as he walked in, along with the smell of sausages and bacon frying on the four burnered gas stove. Chocolate brown tail flicking against her broad behind the doe was whistling a cheery tune while she finished greasing up another pan and reached for some eggs.

"How do you prefer you eggs young man?" she asked over her shoulder, crackling two in quick succession with an amazing display of dexterity, as she needed only one hand and her experienced fingers to crack and feed each one into the heating skillet.

"Sunny side up is fine," he replied, not sure if he should sit when she was standing and not wanting to be impolite. "Can I help you with anything"

"You mean may you help me, and yes you may. You can start by setting the table, the dishes are up in that cabinet there and the silverware in that draw there," she informed him with a quick pointing of her spatula before turning the sausages with it. "Then you can get some glasses from that cupboard and pour me a glass of orange juice and you can have whatever you like in the fridge."

"Okay," was his quick reply. He was much more comfortable having something to do rather than feel like he was imposing on the doe, he'd never been brought up to impose on strangers.

"I imagine you're a hungry boy after spending the night in my shed so eat your fill but I expect you to clean your plate," she murred while he set up the table, one at the head of the long table and one politely to the right for himself. He found some napkins and set them out too and wondered at the other ten seats that looked like they hadn't been moved save to clean in some time.

"Should I set any other places?" he asked, making sure he didn't leave anyone out.

"No, there's just the two of us here," she replied, a hint of sadness in her tone. He started to ask why but thought better of it only to have her explain anyway.

"My husband passed eight years ago and the kids, well they've been gone far longer," she sighed softly. Roger felt sad for her, living alone for all that time, and sorry even more for intruding on her and bringing up the memories.

"Here's your egg and some sausage to start," she murred, sliding them onto his plate with a deft hand. "Sit, sit, a growing boy like yourself needs all he can get," she chided him until he sat. "I'll have the biscuits and gravy ready shortly, do you prefer bacon or sausage gravy?" she asked, the opportunity to cook for someone besides herself lifting her somewhat out of the routine she'd fallen into with her husband's passing.

"Either's fine," he mumbled around a bite of sausage, earning him a frown from the lapine.

"Don't mumble around food, you can wait five seconds to finish your bite before you reply," she chastised him, brown-furred ears dropping down the back of her head.

"Sorry Mrs. Henderson," he apologized, the bunny quickly returning to bustling about as she prepared a hearty meal that Roger tried hard not to gobble down it was so good. In feeding him she seemed to find no time to stop and sit herself, eating as she went as she kept his plate from ever going empty.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Henderson I'm stuffed," he blushingly confessed when she tried to put even more food on his plate. Hearty as his appetite was as an active young man it wasn't up to the motherly rabbit's instinct to keep feeding him now that she had someone to cook for even if just this day.

"Well if you're sure," she finally huffed, knowing she couldn't keep feeding him but wishing she could.

"I wish I could Mrs. Henderson it's wonderful but I can't hold anymore," he admitted, honest in his appraisal of her cooking, enough so she rewarded him with a glowing smile.

"Well okay then," she murred, turning off the burners and setting the uneaten food aside to pack away for later eating. "Now then, I think I've some clothes that will fit you well enough that you can shower while I wash what you're wearing."

"Ma'am?!" he asked, blinking in confusion at the comment.

"You heard me. No one's going to leave my house looking like that. I mean really what would the people in town think of me dropping you off while you look like that," she explained. "Now come along sooner you're out of those the sooner I can wash them."

"Yes Ma'am!"

Mrs. Henderson practically dragged Roger upstairs and threw him into the larger bathroom attached to the master bedroom, leaving the rest of the house a blur as she pointed out all the basics he'd need for cleaning himself up.

"When you're done you'll find some things laid out on the bed to try on, I'll be waiting down in the kitchen when you're done," she told him when she finished. "Just toss all your clothes out here through the door and I'll get them washing in the meantime."

Nodding his assent since she wasn't going to have it any other way Roger slipped into the bathroom and did as he was told, considerably more embarrassed than he had been in the shack surrounded by the luxury of the lapine's bathroom. The large mirror that reflected his stripping back to him and the mysterious (and no so mysterious) array of feminine products that never let him forget he was in a lady's private space. When he was done he stood behind the door and tossed his clothes out to doe, acutely embarrassed by it even though he hadn't been wearing much more when she saw him in the shed.

Clothes in hand the rabbit waited until she could hear her unexpected gust had begun to shower, padded carpet keeping her tread silent as she headed downstairs and to the separate building out back that housed the entirety of her clothes washing ensemble. Set up to deal with the laundry needs of a large and active farm family it saw little use with just the doe to service, and the clothes from the human even less use than normal being just one set of clothes instead of the dozens the doe would wash at one time.

The human didn't seem to be a bad sort, she thought to herself. He was polite and respectful and a welcome break from the monotony of her days. Checking the clock on the wall to mark the time she sorted the pieces to wash without damaging them, tossing in a few of her own clothes as well that had been waiting on the next wash day. It was good to have someone around, even for just a few hours, she'd been staying at her home far too much with her husband's passing.

By the time she'd returned to the house Roger had finished with his shower, hair damp against his skull as he dried it as best he could. Standing naked in the doe's bedroom had done nothing to reduce his embarrassment, with family photos on the furniture and lingerie and other intimate items on unintended display. It was good motivation to dress though and he looked over the clothes she'd left laid out on the bed for him.

There was an assortment of shirts, pants, and a few shorts for him to select from, along with some plain male underwear that had the customary tailhole that he still slipped into gratefully even though he could feel some breezes in the back from it. They were looser than he'd have thought till he thought about the doe's hips and blushed as he thought that perhaps rabbits in general had wider hips even though they were generally smaller than humans.

The loosest of the shirts was still pretty tight, tight enough it'd tear if he strained too hard, and came in a plain gray appearance. He probably should have gone with the shorts but the denim material and the outlet for the tail left the hole from the underwear very much on display, while the pants seemed to close up well enough just came up close to his knees for the length of the legs. Given she'd even taken his socks he was left barefooted as he walked about on the soft brown carpet trying to get used to the tight feeling of the clothes.

"Aren't you done yet?" the doe called through the door, startling Roger as he tried to get up the nerve to step out into the hallway. Well he couldn't stay in their forever he reminded himself and steeled himself to step out where the matronly female could see.

"Hmmmm. I was afraid of that; the closest I could find was some things left from my sons and husband. Well those can do until your clothes are ready," she noted when she finished her appraisal. He cleaned up nicely a small part of herself noted, while another reminded her her kids were likely all older than he was.

"I'm sorry to impose on you like this Ma'am," he apologized only to get a stern rebuke for it.

"You've nothing to apologize for, you can't help your car breaking down or it raining," she chastised, then softened the blow with a reassuring smile. "Now come along we can sit and chat in the living room while your clothes wash, wouldn't want you splitting out of those after all," she added with a wink.

"So what provoked you to be driving down this road?" she asked him once they were seated on the couch, her eyes firmly on his.

"I thought it would make a good shortcut to Tipton," he confessed. "I heard they might have some jobs I could apply for there."

"Tipton? Boy you've got a funny idea of what a shortcut is to take this road to get to there. You're lucky you even found my house," she pointed out.

"I know, it looked like a good idea on the map but I didn't know it was a back road like this until it was really too late to turn around," he replied, hanging his head in shame.

"Well it'll be a good drive to the nearest town to get you some help," she noted, mentally working out the general drive time to the nearest town, while not having any idea where his car might be. "Do you know what's wrong with it?"

"The fan belt broke, engine overheated and locked up. I'm going to need a new engine or a new car," he replied morosely.

"That's not cheap, can you afford it?" she asked, concern writ in her body posture as she leaned towards him, tail twitching against the couch cushions.

"I don't have a choice, got to have a car if I hope to get work again. I'm living out of my car I don't want to be so far down I'm living in the streets."

Poor Boy! Mrs. Henderson thought, a rush of sympathy for him washing over her as his story tugged at her heartstrings. Patting him on the knee she said, "How about you stay here a while and help me around the house and farm? There's not much left to tend to but I could use the help."

"I'm not really good with my hands," he confessed, taken aback by the unexpected offer. "Plus you don't even know me why do you want to help me out?" he asked, his string of bad luck having left him more pessimistic than a young man his age ever should be.

"Everyone needs help sometime," she murred sagely, then sighed a little as she sat back on the couch. "Besides I'm here all alone and would be nice to have someone to cook and wash and do things for again even if just a few weeks."

"Don't your kids ever come by?" he asked.

"They don't have time for their mother, and most have families of their own," she explained, ears drooping in sadness. Now Roger's own heartstrings were tugged as he couldn't conceive of someone not keeping in touch with and seeing their mother as often as possible.

"Well okay then I'd like to repay you for helping me out by staying and helping you around here," he offered with a smile, glad for the chance to help out and do something right for a change.

"Let me show you to the guest room then; you said you've been living in your car so you can move your stuff into there and can have the car towed to the garage and see if you can fix it in the meantime rather than have to buy a new ones."

"Thanks Ma'am, I really appreciate this," he told her with total honesty.

"Please call me Lydia.

---

Roger found it surprisingly easy to get settled in. Once he had his own clothes to wear Lydia started showing him around the farm and pointing out what things needed tending to that had fallen to disrepair with only her to work things.

The fields had been left to run wild since before her husband had died, the two unable by themselves to farm it effectively or safely and left to survive on the generous military pension her husband had received. But fences still needed mending, gutters cleaned, fresh paint applied, and all the regular things a home requires to remain livable.

It was also the first time he'd worked for someone who actually seemed to appreciate him, as Lydia was always telling him what a good job he was doing and working alongside him as she could. If he messed up she simply explained how and showed him how to do it right such as when he messed up painting a section of the house without removing the old paint first. If he did well she rewarded him with desserts and little gifts.

He wasn't sure when it happened but he felt something changing within him as the days passed. When they were working side by side on something he'd begun paying more attention to the sway of her heavy breasts when she moved, and the jiggle of her motherly hips when she was walking away from him. There was even a scent about her that seemed to linger on the air where she'd been, one that left him manfully having to hide the results. She was old enough to easily be his mother if not more but with the time that they'd spent together he'd stopped seeing that and only a woman instead, one he was sure would never respond to someone as young as he.

"Just think, tomorrow it'll be a month since I hid in your shed to get out of the rain Lydia," Roger commented as they sat sharing supper after another long day together around the farm. He still felt odd calling her by her first name but at least it sounded younger than calling her Mrs. Henderson all the time and wouldn't remind her of her age so much.

"Has it really been that long?" she asked thoughtfully, the shadow of something crossing her face so quickly he thought he'd imagined it.

"I know, time really flies doesn't it?" he replied with a smile. "At least if you're having fun."

"I suppose you're right about that," she murred, giving herself a little shake before having some of her juice.

"Just about got everything caught up too, things are really looking nice," he went on blithely. "I'm glad I've been able to help you out, you were just what I needed when I was at my worst. You're a great person Lydia."

"Thank you Roger, you've been a great help too," she said before busying herself with her meal. Seeing her focus on eating he went quiet so he wouldn't bother her with questions she'd have to answer.

When the meal drew to an end Roger offered to clean up as always, and went to work washing and rinsing and putting things away once the lapine gave him permission to do so. Once he was finished he went looking for her to see what they were going to do to fill the remaining hours before bed, maybe Checkers or Chess, they hadn't played either in more than a week. Unable to find her in the living room as he expected to he padded upstairs to see if she'd gone up to get something, only to pause half-way up trying to puzzle out what he was hearing. It couldn't be sounds of crying could it?

Drawing closer to her bedroom he was indeed crying her heard, deep heart-felt sobs that cut one to the quick. Sobs that carried a decades' pain and pain just hours old and sent him dashing inside.

"Lydia, what's wrong?" he asked, finding her collapsed on her bed tears soaking her muzzle and bed. Coming quickly to her side he sat down and tried to hold her while asking again what was wrong.

"Y-You'll be leaving soon and I'll be a-a-alone again!" she sobbed, chest heaving as she worked to draw breath to replace that which her sobbing deprived her of. Struggling weakly in his arms she tried to pull away before suddenly reversing herself and clinging to him instead, claws digging into his back causing him to wince in pain while her tears soaked into his shirt.

Roger had no idea how to deal with a crying woman of any age, let alone one he'd thought so strong. He patted her back awkwardly, acutely aware that he held a woman in his arms, one that until she'd said that left him realizing he'd settled in so completely that he'd not even thought about leaving.

"Did I ever say that?" he asked her gently, stroking her headfur gently with his left hand while the right brushed up and down her back comfortingly.

"N-no but you're a young man, you don't want to stay with some old doe keeping her farm up," or more but she couldn't find means of voicing the feelings she'd developed for him.

"Well that should be my choice now shouldn't it?" he asked gently, tilting her muzzle up to gaze into her dark brown eyes and planted a kiss on her nose. "You're not an old doe to me," he added as she looked wonderingly up at him, realizing for the first time he held feelings for her beyond those of a young male towards a trusted mother figure.

Feeling her grip relax Roger kissed her again, this time on the lips and felt Lydia lifting herself up into it. Her lips parted and her tongue brushed his as eight years of loneliness with only her right hand for company gave way, a yearning need to be a woman once again sealing her lips to his as she gave herself to him. A kiss he felt throughout his being as he stroked his hand over her shoulder, brushing down along her side to come to rest upon her hip.

A shiver ran along Lydia's spine when his hand slid inside her sweater, stroking the soft fur of her hip and side, a touch so welcome her tail slapped so hard against the bed to fill the room with the muffled thumps. She couldn't stop clinging to him afraid he'd be gone if she let go, but he only held her and caressed her side and kissed her for long intimate minutes.

"I want you to be my first and only," he whispered into her ear when the kiss finally ended, his exploring hand stroking the underside of her heavy breasts through the sturdy bra she wore.

"You're a virgin?" she asked, unable to imagine such a young and virile man having gone untouched, surely he should have had dozens of willing females by now.

"Only for a short while longer," he answered with a smile, licking at her cheek as he tasted her tears and licked them away. "Come I want to see you in your all," he told her before gripping her sweater with his other hand and began to tug it up. Lydia felt the flush of her skin at the thought of someone seeing her naked after so long but couldn't resist as Roger pulled her sweater up until she released him letting him tug it up over her head. When her arms came down though they crossed shyly over her bosom trying to hide them away. "You don't need to do this Lydia," he told her, moving her hands gently out of the way. Then before she could find reason to resist he popped the catch in the front exposing her breasts to his gaze.

A young doe's bosom it was not, but a heavy pair of breasts that had the natural sag of age for one who'd born ten children and fed them all herself. A pair easily DD in size if not more for those who must measure everything and compare one to another, with thick nipples and broad aureole that showed the stretch marks of age and maturity. Breasts earned as only a mother may earn them, through sweat, tears, and love.

"Beautiful," Roger breathed, hands cupping and lifting them marveling at their weight and how they felt in his grasp. "To think you've been hiding these all this time," he continued, lifting the right up enough to plant a reverent kiss upon the black nub of her nipple.

Lydia gasped in shock and wonder, certain once he saw her as the old and sagging woman that she was he'd abandon her to go find a younger female, instead he'd left her melting from the compliment and the heat of his kiss, one he duplicated on the left to show his admiration for both. Guiding her back onto the bed he took turns kissing, nibbling, and suckling on her nipples while she lay there panting softly. Her hands reached to stroke at his head and caress at his own shoulders and chest, touches both gentle and loving that she lavished upon him.

Roger's delight in finally getting to express how he felt was something easily visible to Lydia if only she'd had the option to look at the front of his pants. The sight of her bosom and feel of her body in his grasp leaving him heated as only a young male in the prime of his life could be. Even the bit of pudge around her middle she'd never fully lost from her birthing her children was a tantalizing delight to explore. Here was a woman who knew how to love and been loved and he wanted that with her as well.

Kissing his way down her tummy he could smell the heated musk wafting up from her nether regions as she leaked into her panties. Not even worrying about asking this time he unzipped the plain pants she'd been wearing and reached inside, cupping her pantied mound and giving it a squeeze that had her rolling her hips from the contact.

"I want to see it all," he told her, lifting up to look her in the eyes and seeing her nod he head slightly moved his other hand beneath her to unfasten the tail button on her pants, then grasped the edges of her panties and pants with his hands pulled them down over her hips. His eyes raptly locked onto her nether regions as he exposed them in the bright incandescent brilliance of her bedroom's lights.

"So beautiful," he breathed, drinking in the view as she lay before him, pants and panties quickly discarded leaving her fully bared to his gaze. No deception, no exaggeration, no words spoken merely to make another feel good but a declaration of honest admiration for the bounty before him.

Heat burned beneath Lydia's fur at such fervently spoken words, the way his eyes looked at her aflame with the kind of passion she'd once seen in her husband's eyes. A trickle of moisture slid down between her rumpcheeks wetting her tailhole along the way. She felt so shameless laying there naked before him, while the young male looked at her with a desire that made her feel fifteen again.

Grasping his own shirt he yanked it off with one smooth motion and tossed it to the floor to join Lydia's discarded clothes, then stretched out between her legs to bring his face just inches from her mound. He sniffed at the pungent musk of her arousal as if admiring a fine wine letting it roll about his olfactory senses before getting a fresh dose. His eyes recorded every wrinkle and hair on her folds, stretched and puffy from age and birthing her young but still enough to leave him admiring the beauty of that singular creation.

A gasp escaped her when Lydia felt his tongue actually brush across her petals, something her husband had never done. She could feel it swirling about and inside chasing the juices she was leaking and clutched and fondled her own breasts as she bucked her hips up against his questing tongue. Soon he had to grasp her hips just to keep from bruising his nose as she tried to grind up against his face, tongue forced inside of her each time she managed to overcome his grip with her lust-strengthened thrusts.

"Looks like my doe's too hot to wait, well that's okay so am I," he almost growled in his desire, the temptation of an available female that he so desired overcoming his gentlemanly desire to draw things out with her satisfaction first before his. Pushing his pants and shorts down to expose his hard throbbing shaft he crawled forward until he was looking down into Lydia's eyes.

"There is only you," he told her before thrusting inside, pushing his way into that snug-fitting passage that even ten children had failed to ruin. Both groaned as he slid into her, he for his first time coupling with a female and her for the first time in so long to have a male buried within. A male who could fill her so completely when her children had left her too stretched to please a buck as well as she once had.

Wrapping him in her arms and legs Lydia held tight to her lover, her mate. Her clinging walls could feel every vein along his length and the pulse of his blood through them, her juices coating and marking it as hers. Breasts rolling to the sides she felt his chest pressing into them, luxuriated in the heat and being beneath such a handsome male.

Even clasping him to as if she never wished to let her go Roger managed to begin thrusting into her, short thrusts at first guided more by instinct and movies he'd viewed than any practical experience with a woman. Thrusts that ground his pelvis into hers and while his hands clutched at her bedsheets left them both feeling hot sparks of pleasure racing along their spines.

As his thrusts were able to increase in length so too did his lust, the long drawn out slide of her silken walls giving him longer periods of stimulation going in and coming out. Her fur's caress adding to his desire, a pleasure that involved his skin as well as his shaft in the process of heating him up. Even her tail curled up enough to brush the cheeks of his backside with its fluffy brown goodness.

Roger's increasing pace jolted Lydia back and forth along her bed, causing her breasts to jiggle and roll about even as she clung to him in her desire. Her heart raced as she buried her face in his shoulder, eyes tightly closed as she orgasmed with a silent cry and clawed him once again. Body tensing dragged him back into her holding his shaft deep inside her as her inner walls rippled along it with decades of experience milking a male shaft.

In the face of her climax Roger soon came as well, the rippling walls and first ever time with a female bringing him to his peak sooner than it would for a more experienced male. His hot seed gushing into her to sooth the fires within her while she drained the heat from him, leaving him to collapse panting on top of her while she held him solidly to her. Even with her pent-up needs momentarily satiated the mature lapine continued to grip him out of a general need to just hold onto her male.

"Thank you," Lydia whispered to him when she felt him relax and his breath calm, stroking his back softly, furry legs rubbing sensually along the backs of his.

"For what love?" he asked just as softly, rubbing his face into her neckfur to enjoy the scent of her while he softened within her velvety passage.

"For caring, for not laughing at me and for loving and old worn-out doe like me," she murred to him, kissing at his shoulder.

"You'll never be some old worn-out doe to me," he staunchly declared, giving her a tender kiss on the lips once he could. "You'll always be beautiful to me."

And Lydia knew that it was true and fell asleep in his arms, contented and loved.