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lomidepuzlo – Watersports

Radia leaned against the wall, one leg lifted against the other corner, eyes half-shut, mouth hanging open. She had some difficulty breathing here what with the thick steam of the shower swirling around her, but the exertion, the enjoyment, forced her to do so nonetheless: she slid that leg back down to the ground, bent forward, and now tried pressing her upper chest against the wall instead, muzzle held sideways while she reached back with one arm, working vigorously away at herself.

It felt like nothing else she had had before, and she only wished that it didn’t make her arm ache so quickly. Her back arched as she pressed the toy in again nearly all the way to the base, and then clenched sweetly around the smooth, semisoft silicone; the pressure lifted up inside of her, lodged nice and deep within slick twists of inner walls, and as she paused to catch her breath she realized that she could feel the gentle contours, the sculpted surface, the slight rises and bumps and swells.

No longer noticing the hiss of the water as it poured down over her shoulders, she swallowed again, nudged the toy a little deeper, then released it… and let the natural musculature of her lower body let it slide back out, her tail lifting at the base to allow it. It nudged back into her palm, so she pushed it right back in and did the same, then again, and again, each time a little faster, a little harder.

Then she started pushing as well, able to feel her abdomen tense up and squeeze in around the toy, tailhole first clenching in around it and then reversing its motion, inner walls bunching together and pressing against the material, wrinkling together, coaxing it back out. Radia gritted her teeth and drew in another deep, steamy breath as she did so, focus and tension both increasing: she bore down even more, bent forward further until she had doubled over with her legs spread, and now pressed the toy back up inside of herself even as she pushed it right back out, again and again.

No longer did she need to press past the tense, tight rim of her tailhole, as the constant pushing meant that the ring of muscle blossomed out around the base, allowing the slick, succulent inner flesh to welcome the girth of the toy. Her panting grew into unsteady moaning, and her lower body began to shudder, to tremble – and then she jerked, arched her back, and squeezed tightly around the toy, and squeezed again-

-and then felt the first spray squirt out of her and down one leg, soon followed by a second. Her entire body shook with the force of her initial finish, but the longer it went on, the more that pleasure mixed with sweet, warm relief as well: Radia straightened up a bit, lifted one leg again, and then gave in to the sensation of release, toy still clutched underneath her tail with one paw.

She tilted her head back and sighed as the feeling over took her, the warmth from inside her body warring against that of the shower itself. Once she had settled into the sensation she looked down again, watched the stream of steady pale yellow trickling out of her, and then reached down with her other paw; first she rubbed her fingers across herself, causing her mark to spray and splash, and then cupped her palm directly between her legs to catch the heat and let it pool together. Already the scent had begun to twist and swirl within the steam of the shower, high and dry and musty and musky, and oddly, faintly pleasurable where it stuck out from beneath the more floral touch of soap and shampoo.

Squeezing like this, she figured she could keep the toy in place under her tail, as its presence provided some of the extra urgency behind her bladder. Slowly she drew that paw away, lower body still trembling with the effort of the clench, and then positioned herself back in the corner of the shower, away from the ongoing stream of fresh water. I’m already here, she thought to herself, now reaching down to spread herself with her free paw, so why not…?

As soon as she made that touch, the force of her stream sharpened, now arcing out against the glass door of the shower. Radia leaned back against the wall and aimed herself back and forth, watching the way the fresh yellow cut through the gathered condensation and poured down; then, though, she angled her body a bit, pushed her hips forward, tried to aim upwards… cupped her paw around herself again, and this time dragged the handful of fresh, warm mark up across her belly, and down over her thighs, and then around her chest as well.

Back here, out of the stream of the water, Radia could actually feel her piss in her fur and across her skin. It matted down the latter along her thighs, her fingers, and her arms, and then smeared across the former with something almost like a gentle tingle beneath the rich heat. Then that slight stickiness as well, the way that she coated herself in her own mark, squeezing once more turning to pushing…

She knelt down close to the ground just as the toy plopped out of her, tailhole straining, lower bowels blossoming. Radia gasped, moaned, clenched around herself again, then sprawled out across the floor of the shower; breath puffing, she managed to roll over onto her back and drew herself up with her legs against the wall, then began again – and closed her eyes right as the first spray began to trickle across the folds of her belly, along her chest, between her breasts, and then stream down around her neck. Then she tightened down a little further, jumped as she splattered her own muzzle… and opened her mouth.

It took some adjustment, but before long she had found just the right angle, both paws reaching to spread herself, eyes closed, mouth open, piss pattering as it filled her open maw, then streamed down from the corners of her mouth. Scent and taste both simmered hot and high, and she moaned through her nose, clenched again, pushed further until she had no more to give.

Panting softly, she closed her mouth, felt more of her piss dribble out, closed her eyes, dropped her legs… tasted the sharp salt, the rich, heady muskiness, the overwhelming presence of herself. Radia almost swallowed on reflex, but then stopped herself.

The longer it sits, the stronger it tastes, so… should I? I mean, I’m already in the shower, so I could let it out.

But then, it’s also already in my mouth.

Peegus – Watersports

It was just something about the sensation. The leopard pressed his shoulders back against the lockers, one footpaw lifted and braced against the bench down the aisle; he bumped his head back to the metal, gritted his teeth, then ran the backs of his paws between his legs again, across fur still wet with the chemical softness of chlorinated water first, and then – the taut, tented material of his slim speedo next. And the way the elastic fabric tugged down at him, how he could feel the barbs studded along his full arousal pricking through, tugging back, and then poking back out again… he swallowed, gritted his teeth, let out another tense breath, and pulled the fabric tight around himself. There was the stretch, the pull, and the clear, sharp shape, and he closed his eyes, bit his lip, focused.

This time it took a little bit of a push, but as soon as he felt it begin, Kopa’s eyes flashed open and he looked down towards the tapered point stretched out beneath the blue material. Wet warmth welled up from the very end of that point, trickling out through the holes in the fabric, bunching together at his tip and then finally pouring down the sides, soaking back into his swimsuit as it went, coating his hard shaft just barely hidden inside. The leopard let out another tense sigh of effort and now drew his paw up across himself, then back again: the heat of his mark spread so sweet across him with each stroke, again the sensation so much more after his time spent in the pool.

The thought had first hit him right before he had climbed out, and of course he had considered hovering there in the shallows and just releasing then and there, to simmer and float in a warm cloud of himself. And as hot as that idea was, the longer he held it, the more he could feel it, the further his mind wandered – and then he was getting out of the pool, and he was stepping across to the locker rooms, and he was going inside and seeing that he was all on his own, and he thought about dropping his swimsuit and draining his bladder into one of the shower drains…

...and then he figured, why lose the swimsuit at all? It’s already wet, and-

And a few more pumps forced him to gasp and moan and buck upwards into his paw, following the movement of his self-enjoyment, squeezing the wet material in around his sleek, slick length. Kopa could still feel the tender little barbs along his shaft, though pricking through the material like this they tugged and pulled and made his tail twitch and forced his claws to poke out and curl and tug right back in.

Normally he had to push to piss while hard, but in his current situation, one paw rubbing at his sack held against his body beneath the elastic, the other sweeping across sleek, wet material sleeving in around his length… something about the sensation made it that much easier. Again the leopard’s back arched away from the lockers, and his raised footpaws pushed in at the edge of the bench, and he grunted – and this time instead of welling slowly out like condensation gathering under the lid of a pot on the stove, his mark jetted up and out, spurting in a loose spray through the minuscule pores of the material.

Kopa couldn’t help but moan out with that feeling, the rich spray of heat flowing through the fabric, coating his already slick length, then dribbling down the front. He drew his paw up towards his tip, rubbed the warmth in there, then squeezed down again, and coaxed out another spray, this one pushing out towards the bench; then he bucked his hips, drew back, and gave himself a few more strokes, other paw climbing from his sack to rub across the short, soft fur of his belly, airy from the treatment of the chlorine. Every now and again he glanced back towards the entry to the locker rooms, knowing that while he was alone for now, there had been two or three others in the pool while he was there, and… and then that warm, insistent pressure began to grow inside of him again, a balloon filling up and swelling out.

This time the leopard leaned back against the locker, caught his breath, and bore down, pushing from deep inside of him. Briefly he paused in his stroking: pale yellow welled up and out again, then grew into a steady trickle, and from there into a full stream – which then broke and sputtered and sprayed across his chest and belly once he continued stroking. The speedo sucked sweetly in around him, wet material grabbing onto revealed flesh, pulling at his barbs, holding there, and then dragging free after a pause, and still the relief of his release tingled out through him, now trickling across his fingers, soaking into his fur, dribbling off the sides of his hips to patter into a puddle across the tile floor of the locker room.

He gritted his teeth, squeezed his eyes shut, doubled over a little further. It wasn’t the best in terms of lube, but now his own scent had begun to curl up towards his nose, dominating over the sharp chemical bite of the chlorine. Kopa shivered, rubbed his own mark into his bellyfur, turned his body slightly to one side, squeezed, pumped, pumped – and then gasped, grunted, jerked as his stream suddenly sputtered to a stop, then gave way instead to spurts of his peak struggling to squirt through the piss-soaked material of his swimsuit. His entire body lurched forward with the sharp intensity of the sensation – there it was again – and sleek, slick, sticky heat sleeved all around him, his breath catching in his throat, his fangs grinding together. A few of those dribbles hooked around his thumb, other paw now pressing down at the waistband of his swimsuit to pull it tight around himself, hard shaft twitching, throbbing to stretch the material.

Then another second, a brief respite… and Kopa sighed as he resumed once more, this time fully giving himself over to the relief, his piss freely flowing and washing through the captured wisps of seed. His paws fell away from his body, he leaned back against the lockers, and he closed his eyes while the warmth of his mark dribbled down around his sides, flowing out from within the material towards the growing puddle underneath him, slowly trickling its way toward the drain beneath the bench.

Do I even need a shower at this point? he thought, looking down at himself. Panting softly, the leopard reached down, peeled the material away from his body… grimaced at the mess he saw inside, and let it snap back into place.

Well. That answers that.

RussetPotato – Watersports

When he cums, which one does it come out of? Shen thought, breath in their throat, heart pounding in their chest… teeth gritted, eyes wrenched half-shut, one leg lifted to brace against the smooth tile wall. Their lower body rocked steadily forward and back, the steady, fervent smack of repetitive thrusts echoing throughout the shower; they couldn’t help but lean forward, brace their paws on the wall, and push back against the rattlesnake, succulent heat of one reptilian shaft pumping up inside of them while the other slid across their thigh, leaving the fur there slick and somewhat sticky even beneath the flowing water.

Is it – both, maybe? Or – he can pick which one he – he… ah, God, he’s…

Again the cat closed their eyes and tilted their head back, long tail moving to wrap around the sleekly scaled body. Such a strange sensation and scent wafting around them, and still clinging to their lips and nose – since as soon as they had felt that leathery-velvet hand on their shoulder and the other on their waist, they had turned around, given their visitor a once-over, and immediately dropped to their knees to service his slit, where both of his shafts soon slid out across their muzzle – and each thrust forward sent a sweet electric jolt through them, emptying out from between parted lips as another quick, voiced sigh.

The rattlesnake’s sleek snout came in along Shen’s muzzle. The cat glanced to the side; the serpent flicked his forked tongue out, briefly showing deadly sharp fangs, the narrow venom ducts, the lines of smaller curved fangs folding back. “Yeah?” he breathed, hands shifting down to delicate feline hips again, and tugging them forcefully back into his lap; Shen gasped, clenched, and moaned out, their own fully hard shaft bouncing up against their belly. “Is – that – what you’re lookin’ for?”

“Yeah, that’s…” They swallowed again, licked their lips, returned the thrust and pushed back. “That’s good, I’m…”

“You wanna cum for me? I can feel it.”

“Yeah,” and they nodded, claws stretching out, scraping into the spaces between wall tiles. Again and again they rocked back into his lap, squeezing, clenching, then pushing; the pleasure pulsed and mounted inside of them, and their tail flicked, and their heart thumped, and that sizzling, tingling heat continued to grow. “Yeah, I… I’m…”

Shen closed their eyes, tilted their head back, and dropped their mouth open, once again giving in to the rattlesnake’s fierce, rhythmic motion. It felt like nearly nothing else, the warm delight pressing up inside of them, the pressure swelling within, the urgency, the desire melding into need. They swallowed, pushed back, moaned, moaned again…

...shivered, half-turned their head, swallowed. “I… don’t think I can…”

The rattlesnake slowed in his rhythm. “No?”

“No. I think I – need to pee too much…”

For a moment, nothing; and then the serpent nodded, rumbled, and slid back as though to pull out – but then slammed back in, one arm wrapping around Shen’s slim chest and the other dancing down their front. Long, leathery fingers slid through their wet fur, matting it this way and that, and then – pressed in at their belly, making them gasp, shudder, and squirm around the rattlesnake’s shaft, the other nestled against their leg giving an appreciative twitch.

“Ooh,” he purred, and continued to rub there. Shen gritted their teeth and pressed against the wall, unable to keep from still riding along that luxurious length. “You do feel full. Would you like some help with that, then?”

“Huh? What are – you-”

That hand remained in place, then, while the other came down as well. Shen first shivered with the sensation of the movement, their eyes fluttering shut; then they gasped, and groaned, and twitched and throbbed and moaned as deft fingers teased across the slick rim of their foreskin and rolled it back, then all the way forward again so that it bunched up over itself, then back again… and then they grunted, groaned again, jerked and twitched and pushed as the thumb folded around to nestle behind the bared rim of their head.

“Wait! Wait, that’s – you’re gonna – make me-”

Then that low, rumbling hiss again, as the rattlesnake’s fingers tightened along their underside – with one rubbing, nudging, circling along the taut, sensitive give of their frenulum, pulling at the supple ring of smooth skin – while the thumb continued up and across the sensitive expanse, then slid back again. “I know,” he purred, while Shen squirmed and shuddered and gasped, their trying to pull out of his grasp only forcing him to squeeze down even tighter.

And then the thrusting continued, rocking their hips forward, tugging the rim of their skin back, folding it forward… and bringing back into the spotlight their sensitive head all over again, the thumb holding there, sliding forward and then back, forward and back. Through the water, the cat’s dripping pre spread across and slickened that sensitivity even further, until they felt one leg lift back up, footpaw trembling, and shuddered, jerked back, gasped, groaned-

-and then spurted, or rather sprayed, with an initial quick burst of wet heat out across the tiled wall. Then a second as the rattlesnake drew his thumb forward again, and a third, and a fourth; then with an appreciate rumble in their ear and an increasing pressure of the other hand squeezing in at their belly, Shen lowered their leg, halfway squatted down, felt the serpent’s shaft nudge up inside of them, and gave in to the mixed pressure and relief, their piss finally streaming out and across the shower wall, warm pale yellow splashing amid the downpour of water.

And it felt so good. Shen rolled their head back, mouth again coming open; they swallowed, relaxed, gave in to the stirring warmth, and then moaned out as the rattlesnake continued his initial rhythm, forcing the cat’s ongoing stream to bounce and swing with each thrust. They grasped at the wall, hunched over, felt the steaming heat of their own mark, tasted the dry, musky scent on the steam.

“Keep – going, I’m – gonna-”

And then it happened all at once: streaming piss one moment, then a gasp, a moan, a tight, powerful clench interrupting the stream – and then their hard cock bounced and twitched and jerked, and instead of pale yellow it was thick, milky white that jetted out across the wall, spraying loosely at first and then thickening into the expected hefty ropes… and then afterwards, with a brief, shaky push, they managed to continue emptying out their bladder, spritzing and spraying, trickling down their shaft and sack.

“Good thing we’re… in the shower…” Shen panted, body still rocking with the rattlesnake’s thrusts.

“Yeah,” he rumbled in response, hands tightening on their waist. “Since I still need to go, too…”

Jesam – Goo/slime/drool/etc.

Jesam swallowed, grunted, and leaned against the moist stone wall of the cistern, the adventurer’s sword clattering to the ground by their footpaws. What had seemed like a quick, easy task for the day, a simple assignment to get some extra money and the bonus reward – the window for which had now long since passed – had instead turned into a session of humiliation the likes of which the fox had never before experienced. They groaned again, gritted their teeth, squeezed their eyes shut in the dim darkness of the subterrane, then ran their now free paw down the front of their body.

Slight, pert breasts rose from beneath thick fur, softer than the surrounding muscle, still small enough that in most cases they could still opt for the flat-chested armor – which they had, until some creatures further back in the cistern had stripped it off of them. The plate armor, the ringmail underneath, the leather padding beneath that, the cloth undergarments… leaving the fox now stumbling along in the tatters of what they once wore, fur patchy and missing in places, stuck together and matted in others, and feeling much, much heavier than they had before regardless of the missing equipment, since now all of the weight they carried instead hung inside of them.

Creature was not quite the right word. Jesam swallowed, recalled the rich, sharp iron-and-soil taste of the thing, closed their eyes… shuddered as they remembered the sensation of the sloshes and waves of what seemed like living slime, smearing through their fur to the skin underneath, at once clammy and chill yet still warm and humid. At first it had been just a little trickle, a tingle at one ankle, and then suddenly it lanced up their leg beneath their armor; then around their waist and belly, and chest, and arms, and neck, and the fox had squirmed and wriggled and worked against the stuff, to no avail – and then it begun going further, the thick, gelatinous semi-fluid finding any entrance into their body it could, and worming its way into there.

Like a thousand fingers, tiny and insubstantial yet thick and rubbery, creeping up their sides, peeling the clothing and armor away from fur, disintegrating their equipment at the same time as it removed it… poking, prodding, seeking, sliding, sinking inside. Jesam clenched their jaw where they currently stood, remembering the sensations of being intruded upon like that: the thick, gelatinous slime forcing their jaw open and sliding down their throat, always more to come no matter how many times they swallowed; the tickle from when it had worked its way into their ears, the brief, panicked stifling of breath when it had found their nose and practically sealed their head back against the brick wall, the slime’s entire volume throbbing and pulsing like a living thing as it did so…

...and then the deeper, fuller embarrassment that came with the realization that it had done the same for their lower half as well. Leaning here against the wall closer to the exit, Jesam glanced back over their shoulder, saw the encroaching darkness of the further depths, shivered again… dropped their paw to their lower belly, the soft, cream-white fur bulging out around the sheer volume of slime that had worked its way inside of them. Not only through the mouth, pushing out at their throat from inside, slopping and plopping into their stomach until each half-stifled belch and hiccup tasted of the stuff, but further down as well.

At first it had been a shock, like liquid ice – not water, but liquid ice – wrapping around their sack, squishing in along their sheath… working its way inside the supple, slick folds of skin, to tease at the hypersensitive flesh nestled inside. But then that pulsing had continued, and the chill returned to damp heat, and the fox had turned, pressed their paws against the wall, squeezed their eyes shut and dropped their jaw open around the slime, and felt the way it worked all across and around them: it sucked so snug, so deliciously tight around them, always moving and shifting, easily drawing them out, coaxing them to full arousal. They could still remember having the thought, forget the reward, this on its own isn’t bad at all; a half-lifted leg and tail hiked at the base allowed the slime access to their tailhole as well, where it felt across the wrinkled pucker of tense skin, followed the folds and overlapping lines, then gently started to nudge its way inside, where they could feel it filling them without the uncomfortable stretch.

And then it had begun pulsing in and out of them, making them lift that leg further, while at the same time it worked their shaft, slid back towards their knot, and tugged and squeezed there as well. Jesam couldn’t recall how long they had stood there leaning against the wall, eyes shut, teeth gritted, hips working, but somewhere along the way the slime brought them to their pounding, gasping, moaning finish... or so they assumed: the familiar hot pressure had begun to stir, then welled up, swelled out, exploded within them – but then the pressure inside just continued to grow.

And they had looked down, and saw the faint discoloration of the slime working at their tapered tip, and then realized that the simmering heat they felt was not the sensation of their orgasm, but rather the solid-liquid of the stuff working its way inside of them. It pressed out at their shaft from inside, tingling and tickling across nerves never before touched, and the fox could do nothing but gasp and groan as it made its way deeper into their body: it poured through hidden valves and between membranes, and then they could do nothing but double over and groan as it forced its way into their bladder.

Such a strange sensation that had been, recalled now as the fox pressed their fingers against their swollen, distended abdomen, and physically felt the gooey sludge slosh and shift inside of them. Pressure and relief in reverse, with the familiar need just growing, growing, growing; each breath had become shorter and shorter as the remnants of the slime had pushed its way inside of them, so that now each and every step was torture, but try as they might to push it back out, all that happened was a thick, sticky dribble oozing out from their shaft. They had no clothing to hide it: the underside of their sheath and their pert sack now bore the sticky, matted trails of those attempts.

Instead of that extra reward advertised, all that Jesam had to show for their efforts was a strange new hell where each step reminded them of how much they had to piss, yet try as they might, nothing could relieve that sensation. The fox swallowed again, once more tasted the rich, metallic zing of the slime – then felt it slosh and swirl inside of them all on its own, and nearly buckled at the knees with the resulting rush of pleasure and discomfort.

Just have to make it back up to town, they thought, and took one careful step against the urgency. Then I can get this resolved. Just another hour or so. I can do that.

Right?

Jesam – Sounding/urethral penetration

Yet again the fox braced their weight against the wall, chest heaving in unsteady panting, entire lower body tingling with the ceaseless sensation of the internal tickle. Just another hour or so, they had told themselves, but that was before they realized they had lost their way through the twisting passages of the subterranean cistern; for what was certainly not the first time since making this resolution, Jesam lifted their head, looked around the crossing, and sighed again, wondering if they had tried out the passageway to their far left already. By now the rest of their equipment had dribbled off as well, the loose links of ringmail finally pattering free, the strands and tatters of leather and cloth underneath shredding after being weakened, and upon seeing how terribly the creature had pitted their sword, the fox had just left that where it lay upon leaving the room.

But as soon as they stepped over towards that hallway, that so-familiar feeling burst out inside of them again, and Jesam gasped, shivered, and doubled over once more. Pressure flared outwards again, squeezing at all of those hidden nerves, sending an urgency like they had never before felt trickling all throughout their abdomen; under any other circumstances Jesam would have worried for the dryness of their pants what with the sharp heat welling up from inside and tingling within the root of their sheath, but down here in the cistern, they had been through this several times before just in that past hour.

Teeth gritted, sweat beading out from beneath thick, plush fur matted and sticky with the remnants of the initial source, the fox straightened up again, swallowed, turned themselves toward the pit of the cistern, and reached down. They angled their slick sheath forward beneath a thumb and hooked their fingers along the underside, giving a small, slight tug to pull the rim back so that the tapered tip of their shaft poked out into the already humid, dank air; Jesam sighed out, took another breath, and tried to focus, trying to ride along that wave of urgent pressure as it came. Their ears flicked back, their tail swished, and that pressure grew, swelling out like a balloon inside of them. They grunted, took in another breath, and then bore down, legs starting to bend with the effort of pushing out that volume…

...and, finally, it started to come. Jesam’s jaw fell open with the simmering relief of finally being able to release their bladder after the creature had made its mark on them, swishing and sloshing around deep inside of their body, lodging itself firm, and – the fox suddenly grunted again and gasped as that sensation then reversed itself, the hard-won relief melding right back into the peaking pressure of a bladder just about to release. So they tried a second time, and succeeded a second time in beginning to let themselves go: this time they could feel the heavy warmth of their mark start to ooze down through themselves and trickled out the end of their length, though in the shadows of the cistern it looked thicker, slimier… stickier. And as they watched, it hung down from the end of their shaft, dribbled down across the fur of their sheath, then hung there, jiggled, and started to crawl its way right back up and in.

Jesam’s back arched with that sensation all over again, the very same as they had first gone through back when they had initially faced the slime creature. For a moment every muscle in their body tensed, and they shivered and trembled as it forced its way up inside their sheathed cock and pressed out at the inner track into their bladder, nudging against hidden nerves and smooth walls of flesh, until it finally slid into place behind whatever valve deep inside of them kept their mark contained.

Frustrated, panting with the exertion, Jesam craned their head back and groaned out into the echoing walls of the cistern. They spread their legs, reached out for support against the wall, and then tried again, bearing down, squeezing first and then going to pushing instead, with one paw pressed against their slightly swollen, visibly distended lower belly to aid in the process. Each and every step so far had been hell, with that sharp, distinct sensation of urgency thrumming through them, vibrations bouncing up through an overfull bladder with nothing for them to do about it.

So they focused, and pushed, and pushed… and finally again felt that familiar sensation of relief, starting small, then swelling into a slow but constant stream. For a moment the fox could do nothing but let it happen, their eyes fluttering shut beneath the feeling of sweet release: the thickness of the stuff inside of them, pouring out in a slow, sticky rope like molten glue, just dragged out the wonderful sensation so that they could feel its process as it pulled out of them, pushing out from inside, making the twists and turns within their body, then finally coming up and out their tapered tip. It slid down along the underside of their shaft and sheath, then dripped down from there, hanging in the air… and finally dribbled into a small pool across the stone beneath their footpaws, yet still remained connected by that thick, sticky strand.

Jesam pressed in at their belly as they continued to empty their bladder, thankful that they could feel that swell finally start to diminish. After a moment they managed to tilt their head back down to watch as well, piss darkened by the presence of the creature dripping thickly out of them, more like a slow leak than an active stream – but then they gasped, and shuddered, and reflexively clenched down around the process.

The puddle shivered between their footpaws, still linked to them by that hanging, rubbery dribble. This little movement echoed all the way up through the strand, and into their shaft, and right back up to their bladder as well, so that they could feel the resultant muscle tension squeeze out beneath their spread paw.

And then the pressure began to grow all over again, the feeling of release once again reversing, the rope of hanging slime slurping right back up into their tip, and rolling through their insides, and pushing bit by bit to fill them up. Jesam gritted their teeth again, groaned out, and nearly fell to their knees, tail lashing with urgent sensation – and when they opened their eyes again, the puddle had disappeared and their urgency had returned, as though nothing had happened in the first place.

So the fox swallowed, sighed, took a moment to try to catch their breath, and then continued on, knowing that this would happen all over again before too long.