Lips locked together in a sensual embrace, her chest against his while the world all but slips away. She could feel the warmth between her own legs rising higher than the heat of his fur. He could feel the itch on his horns, a desire to arch his head back in sudden violence and bash them into the walls, to scratch and scrape against the nearest wood. Hooves made no sound against the carpeted floor, though the ragged breath of these two lovers could be heard from a room away.

The woman pulls back.

“Oh honey.” Her arms tight around his shoulders, her short bumpy horns angled to make sure his face was in no danger. “I can’t believe you just did that!”

The man takes a step back, his muscular tan form taking her with him. His black lined tail lifts up suddenly to reveal the fuzzy bright white between his thighs, but anyone looking would be more likely to focus on the opposite side. His wife certainly was.

“Anything for you, my deer” was the grinning response.

In between wincing at the delivery and the jolt of adrenaline from such a powerful voice she decided she couldn’t take it anymore, not another pun, not another delightful whisper into her brown tuffed ears. She leans her face onto his and plants their two lips with a lusty precision. It worked, if in part, for the only sounds he could produce now were throaty moans. The slurping sucks as they tasted each other’s lips, her tongue sliding out to brush against his while his breath washes over her muzzle.

Of course she was likewise limited to gasps of delight between baited breath, her cheeks smooth against his chin and her eyes half closed at taking in his scent.

Everything tingled like a jolt of lightning, hot and fast, spread from her loins and into her arms. Her legs felt numb, it was as if the floor stopped existing. The room melted away, her thoughts clouded within deep moans and masculine power. Wonderful was nowhere near the descriptive term she would have used, for a kiss from the man she loved the doe had no words to explain such majesty.

It ended only when the each decided that air was of mild importance, her arms snaking down to grasp at the flesh beneath his tail, and his strong hands sliding from her hips up to her shoulders, a firm grasp under her arms while the fingers found a way to tickle against the flowing hair drooping down.

“Anything?” she doesn’t breathe, her voice a whisper into his ear. Grinning teeth delivered a line he’s heard far too many times before. “what if all I wanted was … Just. One. Buck.”

His arms tighten, the muscles bulged and rippled beneath speckled gray fur. He buries his nose into her neck and pushes forward with all the care and grace of a deity come down to worship this one woman, his might devoted to sweeping the deer off her feet and guiding her to the bed.

She feels her tush, bare and white with the tail sticking strait, press against the soft mattress. It startled her into wakefulness, the intrusive nature of reality crashing her down from the high of his touch. Dimly she became more aware of things other than the brushing of fur against fur, of the lopsided pillows she forgot to set last morning, of the jumbled perfume and hygiene products scattered across her cabinet. The door to a nearby hallway in a house they had all to themselves.

It was so much nicer to simply be lost in his eyes, blinded by his caress. As if he were the entire world and nothing else was worth the wasted thought.

“You know why, of course?” the well toned deer asked, his antlers shining proud, with a voice that reminded her there was more to him than simply the smoothness of his fur or the delight in his scent.

“Humor me.” She teases with batting eyelashes, leaning back onto the bed and planting her thighs against the ruffled covers. Her legs spreading off the floor while her arms pull him in with a possessive ferocity, determined to never let him go, never let the hardness of his chest leave contact with the softness of hers.

For his part the young buck wasn’t at all taken off-guard, leaning in at her pulls. Always resisting enough so that she could feel the power in his shoulders and down his abs, never enough that she would have to strain to make her will known. It was a simple matter to lean over her across the bed, his crotch pressing against hers, white fur sinking into white fur. She made her burning desires so very painfully obvious, all but demanding that his pointed spear snake forth to press within her folds.

But even as she felt pink flesh teasing against her nethers, the buck leaned down to whisper against her cheeks. His breath wet and hot like the room had suddenly been filled with steam. As if simply continuing this could fog the windows.

“Because you’re worth it.” A statement so simple, so direct, and in many ways expected.

Trying to hold back a snicker at turning this moment into a commercial slogan, she rolls her eyes and roughly shoves him to one side. Not quite away from her, but toward the bed, toward the pillows, so his legs dangled over the side the same as hers. Any looking in on the two at this moment might have reason to complain about their using a bed the wrong way, but given each had spread legs and very obvious lust on full display it was quite likely other aspects would be noticed first.

But even if that did sour the mood for her, those words rang through her head. Rattling from ear to ear like the gong in a bell, repeating. Because you’re worth it. What was she worth, to him or to anyone else?

He was pouting now, a look of mild worry on his face, of slight confusion, but also that mischievous grin. He knew exactly what he said and would have said it again no matter the consequences. He knew exactly what it meant, and the full extent of those words.

Did she? The doe wondered now, her side against his and her arms draping over his chest. What was he worth? To her, to himself, to anyone else? What would she give up that could replace this man? Where would she draw the line?

A twist of her hips, rolling onto her side so as to face him better. Her legs now crossed while his spread to reveal a pointed shaft now released from its restrictive sheath. She had difficulty imagining living in a world without this man, the way he talks to her when she’s sad or the way he listens when she finds something that amuses her. And on that slight tangent she realized she could show it. Do something in return that could prove just as intimidating, if entirely more intimate.

He attempts to sit up. Her palm holds firm into the center of his chest, the elbow sliding up so her fingers could grace the side of that sculpted face.

“Not tonight honey, I have something entirely different in mind.”

And through his confusion, she rolled the rest of the way onto his hips. Her thighs blissfully heated across those muscles. She could feel his shaft stabbing further, a soft poke into the base of her legs. The dainty little tail swishes downward and brushes back and forth over the fleshy tip, tickling his member with soft fur and the promise of tush.

But she doesn’t just stop with straddling him, her form inches backward to the edge of the bed. Slowly planting her feet onto the floor while leaning down to make sure her hands keep him in place.

The buck was confused and aroused, at once aware he didn’t suddenly possess the ability to read minds while simultaneously reacting to the nude body right before him in all of the expected ways. She takes her time. As she leans back her thighs slide over the exposed flesh, tilting his cock down by the weight and fur of her inner thighs. He closes his eyes and inhales through gritted teeth, sucking air when her slit glides across his loins like the wind billows around a tree.

He’s trying not to squirm, actively resisting the urge to grab himself and start taking care of these urges on his own accord. Why be rude to the young woman who seemed so very keen on such affection herself? It wouldn’t be right to push her away and block access with his arms. The buck only opened his eyes when the sensation stopped, the doe was standing tall with him laying on his back, her crotch about level with his own and her form tucked neatly between two thighs.

The buck watches as two dainty hands reach down and grip at the base of his crotch and the tip of his shaft, a thumb making smooth and circular motions just above those white-furred balls while the other hand seems to tease at the thin slit of his cock.

“Whatever you’re doing honey, it feels … wonderful.” And so he spreads his arms and enjoys, watching her smile grow wider and her knees bend into a crouch.

He can feel the doe’s breath across his nethers, just as moist and warm as his own. The smooth sensation of a tongue sliding forth, starting at the fur lining and then oozing it’s way upward into a final flick. He watched that smile, her mouth poised to perform one of the few wind based jobs that does not involve standing in front of weather charts, and her face leaning down to press ever so gently against his most sensitive of places.

She keeps her lips sealed tight, as if puckering for a kiss. She angles her long muzzle directly over the center, using both paws to aim and orient the cock in accord with her own whims. And then she eases forward, the sensation of stretching into nylons or stuffing yourself inside wet clothes. Hot, musky, the scents of male and deer and cum overwhelming her nostrils. For the buck it was a surprising and quite notably alarming feeling of stretching, of orgasmic bliss, and the idea that he’s started to pee and hasn’t stopped.

He looked to see the tip of his cock stretched wide over his wife’s face, her dainty black eyes sparkling with mischief before another shove sends her in up to the ears.

“O-o-OOohhhh!” was all he could say aloud, his mind scrambling to even comprehend just how much delight this sensation of fullness could bring. Within moments her snout was already at the base, a tongue sliding out to lick against the inside of his prostate. Wetness within musk, the mostly dry fur of her cheeks and forehead and softly kissing lips acting as innumerous strands of hair to tickle every fancy he ever thought he had. Sliding your palm against fur felt pleasant. Rubbing one’s face against a fur coated chest felt delightful. Placing one’s cock between a doe’s legs was orgasmic in the most literal sense of the word.

This? That same sensation coming from within, magnified tenfold and mixed with the internal weight and pressure of having something moving through his shaft? This was a bliss that denied formal description.

She was talking, or perhaps just making the attempt, and he could feel the sack at his crotch bulging up and down with her lips. He tried to make out the words, only to realize he was humping into her neck a few moments after. Her head leans down and forward, with a wet popping noise her dulled horns pass the rim and her shoulders block off the urethra like a feminine cork.

The buck reaches his arms down and pats … his own shaft? No, he was reaching to pat her head. To feel his touch against her cheek, to massage his thumb beneath her eyes. And this time the pleasure was twofold, that of directly touching himself and the sensation of his love on the other side of that bulging skin.

A hump, almost involuntary now, and the doe felt an entirely welcoming suction. The maleness wanted her just as much as she wanted this, and so she stood up. She braced her hooved legs into the floor, and she pushed at the hardest part of this job.

“G-go- oooohhgod!” The buck screamed, his spine arching and his hands pulling back to grasp at the bedsheets. His head lolls back and his mouth hangs open in a breathless pant, everything was pleasure, a paralyzing pleasure that started at his hips and spread to his shoulders, his thighs, his head. He couldn’t feel his legs anymore! Or maybe, no … he could still feel them there, and how his wife would brush her sides against the kneecaps or mash her swaying breasts into his bottom, but any sensation from those limbs was nothing compared to that singular shaft.

For the deer this was another matter entirely, she’d been blind if not quite yet deaf ever since her face was tucked within the wrinkled skin. Breathless for an entirely different reason, the fresh seed invaded into her nose and wet her lips. She could feel the tightly wrapped head bearing down from all sides save forward and back, skintight flesh that pressed down and stretched out to accommodate this intrusion. Her ears pinned to the back of her head and the suffocating moisture clung to every part of her face.

She wanted more.

Fingers danger around until she can find the entrance, sliding her arms in past her head and stretching out the shaft from three framing points. Her shoulders and petite chest struggling to fit inside the narrow opening, while her nose and fingers slide deep, deeper within the bowels of her love’s loins. She heard grunts and rabbit gasps from her lovely buck when pointed shoulders were smoothing against the internal skin, and then all sounds from him stop completely as her breasts squeeze inside.

Was this the reverse of a boob job? Could she shake right now and call it motor-boating in reverse? Trying to speak again from this angle just meant lips parting flesh and a taste of his seed, but she made the attempt regardless. The weighty buck thrust into her again, and with only her legs and rump sticking out she scraped against the floor, shoving, diving headfirst to make this as smooth as possible. The sucking slight by comparison, but there, and just as eager as her.

By the time her head was well past his sheath, now the length of that cock was stretched and bulged into the shapely form of a woman’s chest, twitching with every shudder and expanding with each forced breath. She didn’t stop, her stomach and naval disappearing inside him even as her face deforms the man’s sack. Her legs start to lose purchase and thus she’s left pushing against the edge of her mattress.

The buck, in one part desperate to make the pleasure ease and allow his body to move, in another part wishing to avoid having his beloved from working overmuch, bolted upright and crouched into his shaft. Two muscular palms grasping into the shapely bulges, his face inches from her exposed rear end and the raised tail flicking behind her. He could watch as her thighs stretch and bend, flex and kick, all in a deliberate clambor to push herself deeper inside. The buck rubbed, deft fingers moving sensually over the engorged flesh of a cock. Massaging the woman inside, and rubbing her more thoroughly against the internal urethra.

She could feel his touch, gentle and smooth, now filtered by his heavenly aroma and the wet skin that surrounded her being. Her arms pinned to her chest, her face curled down as it curved within his loins. The doe lets out a gasp, feeling two hands move from groping her through the cock to grabbing at her tush, but this was just to slide her tail inside.

A sudden twitch.

Her tail flicks back and forth just at the tip of his cock, and suddenly this woman’s entire world was a howling laughter, the sensation of fingers desperately reaching inside his own shaft to grab at her behind and hold the feather duster still. But she twitches it faster now, a devilish grin on her face when those probing fingers jab against her nethers without actually stopping the source of that tickling. So instead he bucks his hips into nothing while holding her legs steady. The shove, the squelch, she disappears up to her knees while the man’s expands in proportion.

She wiggles her hips, a tongue easing out to lick against the inner walls, only to be shut down by another squeeze. Another push. He grabs both of her feet and forces her in past the knees.

Panting heavily, stopping to wipe beads of sweat away from his eyes, and now so very close to completion, all that’s left are those feet. Dainty, kicking teeth that tickle across the tip and move so delightfully all the way down. None of her dry, none of her fur matted down and slicked for ease of devourment, every new inch of that body making its way inside him was poofy fuzz and soft womanly flesh. With a strange sense of finality the cocktip closes around her hooves, and he can’t help but cup his hands around the shaft and plant his thumb over the tip, capping off a seal lest she try something exceedingly devilish. Such as humping in and out in rapid succession, sex in reverse by thrusting herself inside him.

For deliriously long moments her knees were jabbing into the shaft, and her feet tickled down the middle, but between the cock’s natural suction and his aiding her along from outside he eventually managed to get her all the way down.

Mouth agape, eyes wide, and his entire body all but exhausted, he breathes down in her general direction.

“That … was … f-fun.”

“A-amhph” she attempts to answer, spluttering on some of the spunk and shifting to get a better vantage point. Hand prints and the outline of a face expand out from his shaft, eliciting muffled howls of ecstasy and hands instinctively reaching down to cup at her form and stall the pleasure before it overwhelms. “Not over, yet. You’ve got some painting to do!”

The glee in her tone almost surprised him, but he somehow felt this should have been expected. Why go through the trouble of getting her out safely, why try to fit her back out of that tiny opening all over again?

“Are you sure.” He grins down, closing his eyes and cupping both palms against his sack. His thighs clench, his member stabs into the air and bounces with anticipation. There wasn’t any point waiting for an answer, as already his seed, his warmth, the very grinding of his muscles, started to do their usual work.

“Yes, YES! Ohodyes!” she squeals, curling herself up into a tighter ball shape and kicking her feet like she was excited to be out of school. Head above the seed, twisting around so that her crotch was downward and her face near the opening, she closed her eyes and tried both to relax into the burning tingle and at the same time put up enough of a massage to let her husband know there was a person inside.

Her fur oozing together into a fused lump of grayish white. Her palms getting soft and squishy, bending as if boneless on the third try to shove against his balls. Her face, dripping and white and sinking into herself, rubbed oh so very gently around the swaying balls.

For the buck it was a matter of keeping conscious, of keeping himself upright. Of aiming his crotch away from the bed he’d intended to sleep in. The ever moving form inside took on rounder shapes, the balls and crotch going from lumps to a rounded droop as more solid became liquid. His two paws rubbed furiously at his exposed nethers, one stroking up and down the length to urge something forward. Another cupping into the balls and feeling, touching against his beloved as her form melts away.

Faster and faster, an erection far less intense than when she’d forced her way inside him but now with the distinct advantage of not having a fur coated mass block the only viable exit, he stroked himself.

Feeling her softer and softer touch caress gently from within, feeling his damp palms slide up and down, up and down, his thighs leaned against the side of his bed and his legs extended all the way, stiff from such anticipation. He was building. He was boiling over. After every tease and every pleasure, the increasing mass of what was once a woman builds more and more within until the inevitable climax.

“I love you.” The doe blubbed in one final, blissful message before the manhandling disrupted her form, and her entire body dripped apart as a splattering of cum.

That was all it took to push him over the edge.

His hips surging with an electrifying pulse, a tingle that makes his feet numb and his mind hazy. Holding it in both hands like a firehose everything gushed out in creamy white spray of seed and doe and womanly flavors, splashing against the wall with a resounding splat. The rough imprint of a woman on her knees framed inside the circle of creame, before everything oozes down the sides and pools at the carpet.

But this buck was nowhere near lucid enough to admire his handiwork, the shared responsibility for this particular mess was a thought far higher than his exhausted mind could tackle.

“I love you too.” He mutters, eyes rolling into the back of his head and falling backwards onto the empty bed. Sheets pulled up, the blankets twisted and bunched, one of the pillows knocked to the floor while the other was folded up into the headrest. And he wasn’t even sleeping on it lengthwise as one should expect, his legs dangled off one side while his hands drooped down the other.

Like this he slept, coming down from the insurmountable high that was sex on a completely different level. A dreamless sleep that rests his thoughts every bit as much as his body, recharging for the morning. Alone in the house, he slept quietly and sound …

…

He rolled about the covers.

…

His arms grasped at his side, closing around a soft warmth.

…

Come morning, his eyes blinked awake to the sight of his wife’s smiling face, her short stubby horns jabbing into a pillow and her arms wrapped around his shoulders. The bed looked even worse than it had last night, and a sheet was only halfway covering their midsections.

“Good morning honey, you feel like getting up?” She grins, leaning forward to kiss. Short and sweet, warm and wet.

“Anything for you, my deer.” He tries not to grin back, watching her eyes roll at the pun and the cliche.

“Wonderful! Because the first thing we need to do is clean up that paint job, otherwise it’s going to start to smell in here.”

He blinks. A twist to see the wall, turning towards the same splatter he’d left in the night, the same imprint and the same glossy white puddles.

“Right, right. Anything … I’ll get the towel.”