A Lay in the Park
        	Nicholas stood on the top most tier of the playscape pretending to captain his ship as several of his friends ran about him miming the hoisting of sails.  The park about him was a sea, and the peoples drifting through on their phones, jogging, and sitting at tables were but a busy noontime port in all its glory.  The young was about to give the order to his first mate to unmoor his ship when a hysterical shout drew his attention from the wheel.
        	Six feet below, and twenty ahead, an older, stout hyena woman stood, looking up at the roof of the pavillian, a bustling waterfront tavern to his eyes.  Not far from her, the light glinted from a feverish looking fox with a camera.  Nicholas's first mate asked for the order, and he offhandedly granted said permission to leave port.  But his immersion was disrupted, and as he was left to his own devices at the top, the furs became regular furs, and the flurry of movement as many of them gathered around to his side of the structure, all looking up.
        	To which he saw, two furs, genders he couldn't tell at first but resolved as male, and not male.  He had heard tell of the differences from friends, but these two, clothed, touching each other in strange ways, he could see for himself how the other gender was different. 
        	His eyes were drawn to the two; they looked like they were fighting, but Nicholas couldn't wrap his poor head around why they were naked, or why the boy was pressing his thingy between the girls legs.  Where was hers?  And where was he putting his?  Most strange, it was! 
        	And it made him curious.  And tingly.  And eyes unfocused, ears grew clouded, the hubbub muted as if with distance.  Nicholas detached, hand and mind wandering, and unbeknownst to him consciously, his hand slipped under the hem of his pants and idled there.  His thing was hard.  It registered in his mind as the couple separated and scrambled hastily from the roof, and were chased by a mob that he could not see, could not hear. 
        	His first mate came to him, adrift on a sea of strange tides, and reported success, but with a mob chasing the last of the crew to come aboard.  Nicholas's head snapped around, and his hand came from his pants, thoughts already forgotten.
        	“Full sail ahead, Matey!”

It was art.
On a sunny and clear day, when ideas were running dry and Lewis had all but milked the park for artistic potential, fate came knocking to present him with the opportunity of a lifetime. 
The fox didn’t care about who they were, or why they’d decided it was such a smart idea to fuck on the roof of the pavilion. Hell, he had half a mind of going up to them and shaking their hands!
But not now. Not until he… “Perfect!” exclaimed Lewis as he leveled his camera and steadied his breath. From where he sat, he had the perfect profile angle of the two deviants who so thoughtlessly grinded up against one another. 
He saw it all through the narrow view of his lens. His whole world was them two. He couldn’t even register the cries of those around him – distractions from his one opportunity at capturing what could very well be his photographic magnum opus. Everyone in his college would know his name; at least everyone within the interested circles. 
Tick. Tick. The ticking of his camera’s lens as he adjusted its zoom barely peeked over the moaning he was starting to make out. They were really going at it – all the better for him. Tick… Tick… Perfect. He had the angle, he had the focus. This could be the perfect shot.
No. This was the perfect shot. 
The click of his shutter was loud to his ears, but not as loud as his own exclamation of joy as he went in for a second shot. 
“Don’t you dare stop now.” 
The fox scrambled to his feet, his tail wildly swinging as he went for the second, and the third. Then he spared a quick second to scramble atop the bench, where he precariously teetered at the very edge just to get one last shot.
CLACK.
“YES!” With a massive grin and a shake of his fist in the air, he cheered them on. His photographic subjects – no, his heroes. “RIGHT ON! AHAHA!”
As Lewis allowed the camera to dandle freely from the strap around his neck, the world around him suddenly shifted back into focus. The outraged and confused cries of families around him, and then a shrill yell that called his attention. 
A hyena sprinted at him, what he took as fury in her eyes. “Fuck… Fuck!” He jumped off the bench, heart hammering against his chest, though still wickedly grinned as he dashed off in the opposite direction.

Natasha often liked to come to this park because of how serene it typically was. Rarely even a runner to cause much ruckus. Besides, grading papers was always better outside. Well, marginally. Still, at least it was a beautiful day. Quiet… calm. The squirrel had already made it through the first essay, a fairly insightful analysis of the effects of burgeoning Christianity on sexuality. A sip of tea from her thermos and a contented sigh, and she was ready to begin the second.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

Well, so much for the serenity. Natasha’s sigh was much less contented as she set the paper’s aside and looked about the park for the source of the commotion.

A young hyena girl--well, young in comparison to the squirrel--certainly, was in hysterics looking up at the roof of a pavilion a ways away. At first, Natasha wasn’t exactly sure what the issue was, but after squinting and adjusting her glasses, she found herself surprised by what she saw, a rarity these days.

“Huh… well,  it’s not exactly as bad as it was in the 70s,” She said to herself, watching the couple copulating on the roof, apparently still somehow oblivious to the noise that the hyena--a relative of the woman on top, perhaps, since she was a hyena too--was making. “But certainly not something you see much of these days.”

She found herself conflicted. On the one hand, she wasn’t exactly offended by seeing sex. Over three decades of teach the history and practice of sex and sexuality will definitely do that. But having sex in public was not only against the law in most places, but it also said just as much about the couple having sex as it did about the people decrying them.

The two on the roof seemed to be having the time of her lives, moaning in earnest now with mouths open and tongues out. Natasha couldn’t help the small vicarious thrill she felt for them. Oh, to be young and in love… or at least horny as all hell. It was hard to tell if they still hadn’t noticed the crowd they were attracting or if they were just trying to get off before they were forced to get off of the roof and face the music.

And what music it promised to be. A passing glance at the crowd showed her the vast majority were disgusted with the display, a few joining the hyena and calling for them to come down. To be sure, there were a few who seemed to be cheering the two on. The squirrel’s eye rested on a young fox who seemed to be desperately trying to capture the passion on the pavilion with his camera. If he were a bit closer, she might have mentioned something about how snapping those pictures wasn’t exactly fair to the privacy of the two individuals on the roof. But, then again, they were on the roof of a pavilion in a public park… it could be debated just how much they cared about privacy.

Then there were the parents around the park. Whether they had cubs with them or not, she could tell by the looks on their faces, and the way some of them moved to cover the young, “innocent” eyes to shield them from this abhorrent display. Natasha huffed, wondering how many of those parents would take the time to actually talk to and educate their cubs about this sort of thing when they returned home. Hell, maybe some actual sex education in the home or this country in general would have helped the hyena and her lover (was he an otter? It was hard to see from here.) recognize that sex on top of pavilion was more troublesome than it was hot. Or maybe not.

The squirrel’s eyes caught a wolf cub staring intently at the couple from the top of the nearby playscape. Oh yeah, there was a cub who definitely needed to have “The Talk,” sooner rather than later. Unfortunately, Natasha didn’t have the patience to provide it to him. Nor was she getting paid to do so. Speaking of…

The squirrel sighed as the hyena’s sister seemed to finally take notice of the fox who was taking pictures of her kin and turned her wrath--and that of the mob that had formed--on him. Ah well, hopefully he wouldn’t be roughed up too much. And hopefully that couple wouldn’t get arrested,  but had at least learned their lesson. And maybe that cub would get a lesson or two if he asked questions of his parents later today. As for Natasha… well, she just hoped that she’d have better luck grading her papers in another part of the park. Preferably where no one would be fucking on top of the roof of a pavilion. Kids these days...