FSE

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Don't get me wrong, I know I'm here for business. But whoever said that business and pleasure shouldn't mix lived a terrible life. No sir, mixing business and pleasure is what I- Vincent Rubio, raptor, private investigator extraordinaire, a true James Bond reincarnate, do best. Well, Sean Connery is an allosaurus, one of several reasons why he's a better Bond than Daniel Craig, but I digress.

I step off the plane and sniff the air, immediately receiving a plastic lei around my neck. Plastic flowers on a synthetic shirt covering vinyl human skin with a dino stud beneath. Welcome to America. Or Hawaii, to be precise.

On the outside I appear the same as any mammal, evidenced by the lack of screaming, shooting, and laboratory testing occurring on my person at the moment. Instead we dinos learned long ago to disguise ourselves. Yeah, the extinction event wiped most of us out. But not all. We got a dozen species or so still kickin' it while the apes breed like, well, apes. So there you have it. Outside, I'm disguised as a middle class P.I. with short brown hair and a decent build, tan complexion add-on special ordered. Inside the real me bundles up under a suit made of buckles and straps and fake teeth, hiding mahogany stripes on an evergreen scaled hide, cyan feathered crest, and razor-sharp teeth. What can I say, it's what all dinos deal with in order to keep on living and not become a graduate laboratory dissection at the University of California - Irvine.

The air smells exotic- frangipani flowers in bloom mixed with copious Coppertan sunblock for the real human tourists, and beneath it all the pervasive, lovely aroma of coconut oil mixed with basil. Not that I'd care of course; I fully planned on staying clean this trip when it came to herbs. Business and pleasure and getting high don't mix.

"Hey, kid, you gonna stand there with your nose in the air all day?" My partner in crime- solving crimes, that is- asks me.

"You smell that, Ernie?" I sniff again as we roll our luggage to the shuttle. One of the wheels on my bag drags, broken since my last trip.

"I smell tourists."

I shift the bag, wondering if dragging it on a broken wheel or trying some unicycle trick was better. I look around for a bell boy. "Nah, beneath that. The basil." Ernie gives me a look. "Hey!" I stop and hold one hand up, talons crossed against my chest, "I'm off the stuff, I told you. Just meant that you can smell that shit everywhere. What is this, basil emporium imports and exports?"

Ernie shrugs, one of many human expressions we dinos have picked up over the years. "I don't smell it."

"Well, it's there."

"So? Stay out of it. We're here for the cult, The Progressives. Circe. Murder. Remember?"

"Yeah yeah," I mumble, as if I could get Circe out of my mind for more than two minutes. I'd never forget my first meeting with Circe, female raptor in the flesh, the real flesh might I add. She also happens to be the leader of The Progressives, the cult we're supposed to be investigating for murder. The Progressives are holding some sort of shindig on a small private island near Hawaii. I never said they were a _poor_cult.

My first meeting with Circe I- well, I can't really explain what happened. A wave, no, brick of pheromones to the snout had sent me back to the jurassic, a hallucination of myself and her, in our true forms, running, sprinting through the jungle. Tails out for balance, hunched forward and claws out, ferns flashing by while our legs pounded the earth like pistons. Let me tell ya I've never ran like that in my life. Well, except maybe when I was being chased by five compys angry about a certain missing suit enhancement- don't ask, don't ask- but it was a hallucination. What else could it be? Weeks later the reality of it, whatever it was, stuck with me, the vision embedded into my skull.

Well, that and her shapely snout adorned by fiery-orange feathers, and the view under Circe's emerald green tail. What? Like I'd let a random hallucination while I'm surrounded by cult members get in the way of a good view of some tail? Psh.

Graciously the walk between the plane and the shuttle ends before my other wheel can break. Calling it a shuttle turns out to be overly generous, as it's nothing more than an extended golf cart. I hand the broken bag to our driver, a native human who smiles entirely too much, and climb in. Ernie sits next to me with a grunt. The accommodations aren't exactly on par with my Lincoln Continental back in Los Angeles, but the island is small and the ride is short to our hotel.

The Westin Maui Hotel and Suites meets every day-dreaming expectation I made up to myself on the flight over. I ditch Ernie early, making up an excuse to check out the scene and scope for leads. Naturally, I start at our resort. Lush leafy trees, temperature in the mid 70s, thick humidity, a man-made pool a few dozen feet from a sparkling blue ocean, and subservient creatures catering to my needs. I sip my blended virgin daiquiri with extra coconut shavings and lean back in my chair, sighing in comfort. The life of a P.I.

I've brought a book, a nice, thick mystery novel by an author Ernie went to school with, but I'm barely past the first chapter when I catch a whiff of pine. I glance over the top of the book and my jaw goes slack.

It's a raptor. It's a female. In broad daylight. Her long tail enchants me, leg muscles rippling with every step. My eyes follow that sinuous limb along her iridescent side and all the way up to her snout. She flashes me a knowing grin, snapping her jaw into the air as I lose myself in her ruby eyes. She's perfect and she knows it.

And she's naked. My latex suit and board shorts aren't enough to cover the bulge forming between my legs.

I glance around the pool area expecting to see mammals shrieking and fleeing in all directions, but surprisingly no one has noticed her yet. I sit up in my chair and rack my brain for options, but nothing helpful pops up, except to notice that my daiquiri came with a sprig of mint leaf. Thanks, brain. I pop it into my muzzle and chew. Ernie be damned, the mint slows my thoughts and keeps my heart from hammering from out of my chest. And suddenly the hallucination is gone, that or a new one has started- because the raptor now has clothes, the tail shimmers and vanishes, her shapely snout shrinks and disappears behind a human face.

What was once a stunningly nude female raptor is now nothing more than a native human Hawaiian, with only her scent to flag her as a dino of indiscriminate origin. Mocha skin and thick lips come to a stop in front of me, one hand on her hips while the other runs through her jet-black hair.

"Mr. Rubio, I presume?" she asks, twirling a strand of hair while she waits for a response.

I set the daiquiri down but keep chewing the mint leaf. She's definitely a dino. Her pine scent lingers at the edge of detectability, present but not forceful. It's tantalizing.

I stand and nod. "Just Vincent." She doesn't offer her hand and I don't offer mine. Instead I turn my head slightly to the side, where the scent glands are on all dinos.

"Like an expensive cigar. Leather." She smiles. "My name is Kala. Won't you come with me, Mr. Vincent? There is a call for you in the lobby."

"Oh- I- of course," I set the book down hastily and stand, for once in my life thanking my latex suit in assisting with concealing the hard shaft pressed against it. Had I really been hallucinating, again?

"I'll show you the way. Follow me, Mr. Vincent."

Before I can reply she turns and struts off. If her tail were visible it'd be bobbing with each sway of her hips, flicking against my muzzle. I hurry to catch up and sling my arm in hers. She doesn't resist.

"Not many pine forests on this island," I start off with. Smooth, Vincent, smooth. "I like it."

She flashes me a smile. "I like your scent too, Mr. Vincent."

"Just Vincent."

"Vincent." Now she's grinning and I'm grinning too. Screaming children burst around us like water through a dam; our arms raise to let one pass. A fat pink-skinned mother comes huffing after them soon after. "I remembered you from check-in," remarks Kala, giggling at the children.

"That where you work, for check-in? And fetching guests for phone calls?"

She disdains the remark with a toss of her hair. "Sales. I'm off for the night, but I volunteered to fetch you. I remembered what you looked like."

"And after the phone call, what then?" We disengage our arms so I can hold the lobby door open, gesturing her forward.

She shrugs and steps inside, almond eyes sizing me up. "Undecided."

Her words say undecided but her eyes suggest she's very much made up her mind, but I'll play her game. She wants to see me strut, then I'll strut. She leans against the wall, waiting for me. But first, the call.

The front desk hands me a phone. It's The Progressives. Samuel, the one who set us up on this trip. He gives me the odds and ends, letting me know when the hydrofoil is leaving, blah blah blah. One odd note though- he makes a note of telling me not to bring anything. Clothes, toiletries, the works.

"Full service then? Nice."

"Something like that," replies the gruff stegosaur. "Look, Vincent, you're getting back to nature here. In touch with your Ancestors. Set aside distractions and I'll see you tomorrow."

"Uh-huh, you too buddy." I hang up and give Kala a roll of my eyes. She flashes me a crooked smile and rolls her eyes right back.

"Was that a business partner?"

"It was business, but not from my partner. Trip details for tomorrow. Boring stuff. Nothing like what I have planned for tonight."

"You have plans then, Mr. Rubio?"

"Depends. Join me for a drink?" I gesture towards the lobby bar. The thought of my daiquiri sitting empty outside taunts me.

She purses her lips. "Alcohol doesn't do much for me. For us." She's right, of course; alcohol doesn't affect us nearly as much as it does the mammals. "How about something a bit more... wild?" She shrugs off her shoulder back and opens it up. I take a peek inside.

Whoa. Maui Wowie indeed. No second class herbs in that bag. She's rolling with the good stuff, the lemon verbena and locally grown date leaves mixed in with some sugarcane bark. My promise to Ernie seems quite distant, especially when a broad like this is offering.

Still, though, some damned part of my conscience kicks on. "I shouldn't- " I say as I'm leaning in to get a better look.

Kala keeps the bag open. "On the wagon?"

"Not my idea," I grumble.

"Just a taste."

That's it. Three words and I'm done. My nostrils flare, my salivary glands shift into overdrive and I'm nodding and metaphorically stomping my conscience back to the jail cell I normally keep it locked up in.

She's smiling again and I take her hand. We find an unoccupied couch in the hallway between check-in and the hotel bar. Her hands feed me a leaf of the lemon verbena and in minutes we're both giggling like schoolchildren, but we're anything but. My hands keep finding reasons to be on her, hugging her shoulders, a grab of the inner thigh. I'm feeding her leaves and she's sucking on my fingers.

There's not much room for chatting. Kala seems to be the more physical type and I'm not putting on the brakes to this train until the sun rises.

One leaf for me turns into two or three. Minutes- or hours?- later and we're testing the limits of public decency. I'm chewing on the sugarcane bark in between attempted kisses, more often than not bumping noses and giggling, hands reaching between legs, searching for the real thing. I lean in to nibble on her neck, my latex guise getting more uncomfortable by the minute. Kala's breathing heavily, her phony mammalian milk jugs getting in the way of what I really want- a smooth flat chest that leads down, down into a moist reptilian slit. I whisper as much to her and she arches her back, pressing my hand firmly into her crotch.

A security guard gives me a poke in the back soon after. "Take it outside or upstairs, folks."

Her breath tickles against my neck as I hug her to me, nuzzling down into her fake raven black hair. "Upstairs?" I ask.

"Room 1922," she replies. A glance, an unspoken agreement, and we're sprinting towards the elevator, the security guard left behind as he whines to no one in particular about no running.

We're alone in the elevator. The floor starts rising and spinning along with it. I've got her up against the wall and it's a goddamn miracle that my guise is still on. I hate kissing her through these fake teeth, through this stupid mask. Floor 19 takes an eternity, and if she was on floor 20 I'm pretty sure we never would have made it; instead security would've had to deal with two gargantuan lizards going at it with the ferocity of the jurassic.

We make it and I'm out of patience, my hands fumbling towards the hidden belts and latches of her guise while we're still in the hallway, desperately seeking the true sexy shape that lies beneath. She slaps my hands away playfully while searching for her door key. "Not yet," she whispers, "not yet."

Well yet is taking it's goddamn time getting here. We burst into her room, tripping and falling while kissing until by some miracle I land face-up on the bed. The bed's spinning. Cool. The bolt-lock slides in with a click and finally, finally we're alone. I'm undoing my guise as fast as I can, getting naked in record speed. I'm halfway done- ah, to be free of that mask!- before she starts. Some dinos get off on being the dino while their partner stays in human guise, and not that I'm one to judge as my own catalogue of fetishes rivals War and Peace, but that one ain't my thing. Give me the real thing, dino on dino, baby.

She starts with her mask first, lifting it off as a wave of drugged arousal hits me. Herbs, man, they'll make you rock hard but they'll also knock you out if you've had one too many. I'm well past the point of having one too many, but thankfully my poor raptor body is used to it, allowing me to stay (mostly) conscious.

Kala looks familiar but I can't place it, and the copious amount of herbs coursing through my veins could well be at fault for tampering with my memory. In any case she's a raptor like me, bright emerald scales and large crimson eyes, complete with pearly teeth that could cut through flesh. Kala catches me watching and flicks her tongue out, wriggling out of her body-suit. The mocha colored latex falls away and soon her tail unfurls itself- and what a tail! My red, ridged cock stiffens appreciably, already standing at attention from my own scaled slit.

Oh, right, raptor. I fumble for my wallet that's somewhere on the floor and find a condom, carefully tearing it open with my carnivore teeth. I roll back onto the bed to find Kala, the real Kala, standing at the foot of the bed, watching me. Her head cocks curiously to one side, tongue flicking out.

For a moment I forget what I'm doing and take her in. She's a half foot shorter than me with a sky-blue feather crest on her muzzle, jade scales abound in contrast to my own more green-brown earthy hue. Razor-sharp white claws and teeth, perfectly balanced tail swaying slowly from side to side. "Well?" she purrs, leaning forward to sniff at my musk.

"Some mammal things can prove useful," I mumble, sliding the latex condom over my rigid cock. Made for humans, I struggle with getting the stupid thing over my last ridge. She laughs and climbs up onto the bed, crawling over me.

I lay back and sink into the pillows, my front claws tracing along her chest as we kiss, truly kiss, for the first time. Muzzle tilted, her tongue pushes into me, forceful and commanding. I push back and let out a guttural growl.

The heat from her vent radiates over me. I use my tail as leverage to thrust upwards, prodding the underside of her tail. She hisses and pins my tail down with her own, using her weight to keep me on the bed.

Kala breaks off the kiss. My mouth opens in protest but her muzzle snaps down around my own, teeth digging into my snout to clamp it shut. Remember those fetishes I told you about? She's hitting about three at the same time. My cock strains against the latex as she slowly, sloowwwwly, lowers her shapely hips. Her tail lashes back and forth, dragging my intertwined tail along with it.

Her vent rubs down along my shaft, purposefully not taking me in. I push upwards, spreading her slit with the girthy underside of my cock, feeling her moist opening part around my latex-covered ridges. She snarls and pushes down, slickening my shaft with her arousal until she reaches my base. The underside of our tails rub against one another, pulsing and swirling and vying for dominance, the sensitive scales eliciting gasps from both of us as our bodies touch in all the best places.

She lets go of my muzzle and I lean up to nuzzle her, tracing a claw along her spine until it reaches the base of her tail. See, 'bout three years back a hooker named Coelo let me in on a little trade secret. That area just above where a dino's tail meets her body is the dino equivalent of a g-spot. It generally goes untouched. The boys lavish so much attention between the legs that they forget about the other side. It's that spot I'm pressing and dragging my claw against now, that secret erogenous zone.

Coelo wouldn't lie to good 'ol me. Kala growls, a guttural pre-historic sound emanating from her chest. Her back arches, thighs tensing. I shift my weight down, her arched back aligning her vent with my tip.

My legs dig into the bed as I press up and into her. This time our bodies meet as nature intended; silky under-scales glistening from our foreplay dimple inwards, my tapered tip nudging inside of her. Kala lets her weight fall on me, a natural act of letting gravity take its course. My right paw presses down against her lower back, guiding her down onto me, and me up inside of her. The room spins as I let out a low hisss of pleasure.

She's as hot as the sun and I'm as hard as granite. My animalistic prick strains against the artificial confines of the condom. If raptor cocks had barbs I'm sure it'd be broken, but as is it's doing its stupid job of dulling pleasure and preventing an egg, I think. But if the pleasure is dulled I can't tell. Kala's vent envelops me, stretching over each of my ridges and pulling me in as our bodies become one.

She takes all of me, slowly coming down, down onto my loins until our slits are rubbing and pressing together. I gyrate my hips beneath her, lurching and grinding as her wetness drips down onto my scales. It's fucking hot. I snarl and hiss and she does the same right back, pushing herself down until our slits meet with a wet smack, my cock hilted fully inside of her.

And suddenly I'm not hilted, she's my rider and I'm her stallion. She's bucking and we're fucking and goddamn if it doesn't sound like an orgy in here. Kala finally lets go of my snout so I can pant, my tongue lolling to one side while I'm spinning through the cosmos. Her vent suckles and squeezes in all the right ways, sending waves of shivery stars tingling down my spine from my head to my tail tip. My eyes are half lidded as a blurry Kala bucks up and down, wet squelches and _smacks_emanating throughout the hotel room. I hope to God it's a dino floor but I couldn't give a fuck right now, as I have none to spare; Kala takes them all and more.

The condom does a fine job of dulling the sensations coursing through my loins just enough so I'm not spilling my seed in her within a minute. Still I can't help but imagine what her heavenly slit would feel like without it, those folds squeezing and rippling around me, me on top, dominating her, squeezing every last inch of my cock beneath her tail, thinking of the eggs we'll have and the pack we'll start in our territory. I can see it, I can feel it- pounding her into the dirt, our snarls and barks echoing through the forest, the scent of pine and ancient ferns permeating the senses, oozing into every fiber of my being.

I snarl and lash out at her, shoving her off of me and onto the floor. Before she can react I'm on her back and biting her neck, shoving her snout down into the leafy confines of our nest- nest?- and I'm taking her as nature intended, mounting my female from behind, my vigorous thrusts hitting its mark on the first try.

My balance shifts onto one hind leg as my world spins. The jungle canopy above me chirps and shrieks with wildlife and other dinos. Ferns as large as palm trees dominate the landscape, nestled between pines as tall as skyscrapers. My mind spins and my fores grab Kala's hips for balance. Where am I?

I pause for a moment, halfway inside her dripping wet vent. I can feel her heartbeat, slow and steady against my own erratic pounding. My cock twitches, oozing pre-cum into her. Into her... the condom is gone.

I blink, struggling to get my bearings. Kala's head turns. Her blood-red eyes bore into me, that fiery-orange crest taking my breath away. Her crest was sky-blue! I'd swear by my own tail it was sky-blue, but it's orange now, and she's speaking with words that don't make sense.

"Vincent. Can you hear me?" She tilts her head and her herb laced pheromones caress me like a long lost lover. Her tail tip flits against my own, stroking it soothingly.

"You... you... Circe..." I fumble for words, her real name coming from my lips before my mind registers that it's her, Circe, and not Kala. Or Kala is Circe. Or whatever. Hey, try talking while your cock is halfway into the hottest dino you've ever seen in your life. Oh, and your head is spinning and you're somehow intent on repopulating a hundred million year old Earth with new raptor hatchlings.

"Let go, Vincent. Embrace your past. Everything is fine." The last syllable is punctuated with a squeeze around my cock. I didn't even know a female raptor could do that. "Sire my clutch and embrace your ancestry."

I'm still struggling to follow along. Kala's, er, Circe's, words don't make a lot of sense to me. Nothing is making a lot of sense at the moment to be honest. My nostrils flare and I grind my hips into her, squelching a few more inches of my reptilian cock into my female. One phrase did stand out. Sire my clutch.

In the life of a P.I. there are certain times when you just have to go with it. You go with your hunch, you go with your heart, but wherever the lead takes you you just go with it and see where to it through the end. I hear her say those words, those three sweet words, and something in me awakens and I decide to go with it. Vincent is gone, replaced by a male raptor six inches deep between the legs of a female raptor.

My fores tighten around her hips, clamping her to me like a vice grip. I lean down and nuzzle at her cheek, soothing my chosen female with soft croons and licks. Her half-lidded eyes glance in my direction before she nuzzles back. My snout dips over her nose and across her blood-orange feathered crest, the soft feathers tickling my nostrils. I snort and push down against them, hugging her to me, feeling the smaller female shiver and submit.

Her tail sticks out diagonally over my shoulder. I snarl and bite down, hard, on her neck, pushing her snout into our nest. She shivers and snarls back, twisting her snout back and forth to try and throw me off. I push down harder and start grinding my slit against hers, taking my time, letting her feel the full length of my cock hilted inside her, spreading her around my girth.

I pause and rub my own scaly male-slit against hers for a moment, grinding and pushing and shoving my ridged cock as far as I can into her. Her heat soaked slit ripples and squeezes around me, drawing me in, seducing me with waves of tingling pleasure. I want more, need more.

I snarl, a guttural sound emanating deep within my chest that I didn't even know I could make as I start fucking her, slowly. I draw my hips back before pushing back in with a wet smack, a gentle, dominant motion. My ridges drag against her silken walls as I pull back, eliciting gasps from her muzzle and a squeeze from her pussy, trying to keep me buried within her. I draw back until only my tip is wedged within her, keeping her entrance spread. My cock twitches, sending a spurt of pre-cum into her vent where it combines with her own natural lubrication. I can feel the mixture pool at her entrance, slickening my cock before running down, making a glistening mess beneath her slit.

And suddenly I'm shoving back in, each ridge spreading that tight opening just a little bit more. On my last, thickest ridge, her tail curls in on itself as I grind and push and grind again until she stretches just enough, and I pop in with an audible slurp! Circe grunts and squeezes down, but I allow her no respite; instead I draw that last ridge out again before shoving it right back, playing and teasing and fucking, enjoying the way her whole body tenses and quivers when I push back in, the way her slit ripples and squeezes while her hind claws curl up in pleasure.

I toy with her, every rock of my hips eliciting grunts and snarls, until I'm picking up my pace, drawing another ridge out before pushing back in, faster and faster, until soon my hips are a blur and the forest is filled with the sounds of our copulating: wet smacks, slurps, snarls and grunts fill my ears until I can't tell which sounds are coming from whom. I'm pounding her into our nest now, her hind legs wobbling and struggling to hold my weight as I literally climb atop her, hissing and biting as I shove my cock under her tail again and again, waves of pleasure building up until my whole body is tingling- tail curling, muscle tensing bliss.

My whole body starts to tense and I know what's coming and she does too. Circe spreads her legs a little further, raises her hips a little higher, squeezes a little tighter, all the instinctual motions of wanting an egg-heavy belly, and I won't deny her. My thrusts are shorter now, quicker, sloppy even as I get lost inside of her silken walls. I push and thrust until I let go of her neck, gasping and grunting at the same time as my cock twitches and flares within her, sending my first ropey spurt of raptor cum deep into her vent.

Throb, throb. My hammering heart coincides with the flexing of my cock. Each flex _splurts_another rope of virile seed into her unprotected womb. My thick tail twitches and flags and soon I can feel my cum oozing out from her over-full vent, dripping down her belly and inner thigh.

Suddenly Circe tenses and snarls, her slit rippling around me as her own orgasm hits me near the end of my own. The greedy raptor milks me for even more seed as I grunt in pleasure, unable to resist her tightening walls squeezing a few more spurts out of me. Her silken walls ripple and squeeze for a while longer, the female raptor's orgasm lasting quite a bit longer than a males, working to massage any last strands of dribbling cum from my cock into her belly.

My soft tongue works over her hide, licking and nuzzling with low chirrs while I stay within her. I imagine my sperm dutifully seeking out those waiting eggs. I dream of watching Circe's belly grow larger day by day, the teasing, the physical attraction as I take pride in her pregnancy and her pregnant raptor form. I can see it clearly- admiring the cuteness of her curved belly, nuzzling and licking around her pregnant vent, teasing her with my tongue until she is ready to lay. Comforting her when the day does come, the excitement of hatching eggs, of teaching little raptors to hunt- hunt, kill, breed, and live.

Consciousness escapes me, an unimportant aspect of my current reality quickly replaced by the overpowering scent of herbs laced with pine.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

The next time I open my eyes I'm back in a hotel room, staring at the back of Circe's head as she spoons against me, tail draped lovingly over my leg. Her feathers are back to being blue. I really need to stop doing so many herbs. The whispering ferns and prehistoric animal shrieking is gone, and, blessedly, the bed isn't spinning. I guess at some point we made it back from the floor to the bed. I hold her close, squeezing her against my chest and pressing my loins against hers, a deep, primal part of me taking pride in the feel of her vent oozing my pearly cum onto me and the bed. So that part wasn't an illusion, great.

I try and peer around the bed, praying to find a discarded condom- just how many hallucinations can one guy take?- when Circe notices my stirring. She moves onto her belly, tail wagging, each flick of her tail slowly pushing the 1200 count egyptian cotton sheets onto the floor. Ah, floor, there's the condom. I didn't hallucinate that badly, at least.

Circe gazes up at me, playing coy with modesty. "Vincent, I'm surprised. Are dyed crest-feathers all it takes? I thought you were a P.I."

I snort and lick my paw, reaching up to rub it on one of her feathers. Sure enough, orange quickly shines beneath the blue. I feel like a dolt. Herbs can do that. Still, not the worst I've ever felt coming down off a high, especially after that night I was found at the edge of a farmer's field chewing on his barley crop- don't ask, don't ask. At least this night I got laid.

"You tempted me with herbs in the lobby on purpose," I accuse.

She pouts, and then grins, razor teeth grinning up at me. "I did. And I doubt you'll remember the morning."

"Date rape doesn't seem your style. We could've just pinky promised."

Her nose wrinkles in distaste. "Never."

"Then I'll remember."

"Maybe one day," she says softly.

I climb over her and push gently on her shoulder until she's laying on her back. "I will." My snout nuzzles beneath hers so I can nibble on her neck, tongue flicking out against her smooth chest as I make my way down her supple hide. "I'll remember... everything."

"Vincent..."

Whatever words were on Circe's lips are transformed into a gasp followed by a tail-curling hiss. I don't respond; instead I continue burying my muzzle between her legs, licking her cum-filled vent without reluctance. She's warm and sweet and my essence that's leaking from her is musky and salty, nothing I haven't had before. Hey, if you haven't been surprised snow-balled by a one night stand in Hollywood you haven't lived, man. Circe's tight, velvety walls pull me in deeper. I happily oblige and flick my forked tongue against her cervix, pushing my cum along with it, consequences be damned.

Her legs bend as her ankles dangle in the air next to my muzzle, claws curling as she lets out a low hissss. My tongue licks strands of seed off my snout as I come up for air, nuzzling into one of her thighs. I breathe in deep, enjoying her omnipresent pine-laced scent. Her tail tickles along my belly and lower, rubbing dexterously between my hind legs.

She's a pro. That tail pushes and presses in all the right places, touching everywhere and nowhere at the same time until I'm grinding and humping against it against my will. I'm not even hard- yet, give me a break here- but her soft undertail feels like heaven against my male-slit. Soon I'm bulging, and then I'm peaking, and she's unrelenting. Her tail works me up to full mast in record time while I'm exploring her nether region in detail, alternating between kissing, nuzzling, and pressing my tongue as far as it can go into her well-bred slit.

I drag my tongue up from the underside of her tail, giving her a long, wet lick from under-tail to vent before I rest my head on her belly, looking up at her. She continues playing with my cock with her tail, tilting her head to the side. Again? My eyes ask. _Again,_her eyes respond, muzzle parting in a toothy grin.

I don't have the strength for a feral jungle fucking. So I go for something different. I take my time climbing up her reptilian body, nuzzling and kissing along her flat chest, pausing to nibble at her sides until she giggles and bats me with her tail in impatience. I work my way up her collarbone, pressing my hard snout-tip against her neck, letting her feel my hot-breath against her. Circe's muzzle tilts away from me, our chests rising and falling slowly with each breath as we lay together, chest-to-chest. I tilt her muzzle back and go in for a kiss, soft and slow, muzzling tilted so our tongues can flit against each other.

While I'm busy inventing the reverse snowball, my cock stands fully erect, pushing firmly against her inner thigh. My hips hump against her slowly, pushing and nudging between her legs until I'm resting against her cleft.

Our tongues finish exploring each other's muzzles as I break off the kiss. She leans in, licking and nibbling along my jawline while I nuzzle down on her crest feathers. And then I'm licking her too, cooing to her like a virgin on prom night. But she's no virgin and neither am I. I nudge forward and her slit dimples in before parting around me. She's silky smooth and furnace hot, gripping and rippling around my shaft as I slip inside her. I'm hilted in no time. Our scaled vents rub against each other as I press down on her, making her gasp and squirm.

Circe's claws slide up my chest to my shoulders, wrapping around my neck as she holds herself to me. My hips buck slowly, soft _squelch_noises filling the room as we fuck. Her hind legs wrap around my waist and now she's clinging her whole body to mine. Each thrust rocks our bodies together into the bed, again and again. I can feel the remnants of our previous coupling dribbling down the underside of my cock, lubricating and creating a sticky, gooey mess between our slits.

Everytime I hilt her with my largest ridge she gasps and curls her toe-claws, squeezing me for all I'm worth. So, being the gentleman I am, I make her gasp and hiss as much as I dinosaur can- I pull back just enough to let that last ridge tug out of her, popping free with a wet _gloop_before thrusting back in slowly, grinding against her, wagging my tail as I puuuuush back in, feeling that still-tight slit stretch around me at my widest point before taking all of me in, our slits smacking back together. And that's when she gasps, snarls, or hisses.

Faster and faster I repeat this process until I'm losing myself inside her again, my mind slowly turning into a fog of lustful pleasure. She's squeezing and snarling and I'm snarling back, thrusting and pushing her back until the bed frame starts knockin'. And then the snarling turns into growls and guttural grunts. Circe bites my shoulder- ow! -and squeezes around me, pulsing and rippling as her orgasm hits her and coaxes me over the edge. I hug her to me as tight as I can as my cock twitches, spurting rope after rope of fertile raptor seed into her belly. I growl low, tail flagging with each twitch as I breed her. Her over-full vent dribbles more seed onto her tail, making quite the mess.

I grind and press against her as our orgasms taper off more quickly the second time around. Still, I've managed to impress myself, judging by the amount of warm cum I feel oozing out around my hilted cock. The vice grip on my shoulder slowly vanishes, and I'm impressed once again- this time because I'm not fucking bleeding. Raptors, man.

Circe offers no apology. Her eyes blink slowly at me as our gazes meet. I lean down for another nuzzle and she reciprocates. And everything feels right. It feels right to have just bred my female, raptor-on-raptor. Right to nuzzle and stay inside her, making sure my seed takes hold. And because it feels so right I know I'm not in my right mind, but I don't care.

Eventually I soften and slip free. Even heaven doesn't last forever, it seems. I'm laying next to her on my back now, her snout on my chest, fast asleep. Sleep sounds pretty good. Very good, actually. And with that thought I'm gone, gone away into dreams of giant ferns and raptors running beneath them, with smaller raptors following close behind.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

I'm no stranger to a hangover. The cotton muzzle taste that doesn't seem to go away no matter how many diet cokes and aspirin you take. The lingering lethargy and headache that only receives a mild improvement after a Westin buffet.

But it's the memory loss that fucking blows.

"You don't even know if you slept with her?" Ernie chides. I squint at him through my sunglasses and grimace as we trudge along the dock.

"I... think I did?" I offer. Not a very good offer. Last night's events are a haze. I remember meeting someone at the pool and getting way off my wagon. Which, judging by the glares he keeps throwing my way, I think Ernie knows and doesn't approve of. But after that my body tells me I had a night of prolific sexual activity. If only I could remember some details besides wagging tails, a tight vent around my cock, and the scent of pine in my nostrils. "Hell of a dino, though. Really something."

"Yeah? Raptor, carno, what?"

I don't remember." My head hangs low. That particular detail escapes me for the moment. A lot of particular details escape me for the moment.

"Tell me you didn't tell her why we're here." Ernie's tone gets serious as we stroll up to the line for the hydrofoil. A cloud passes by, offering me a brief respite. I keep my voice low.

"Aw, come on man, you can trust me. Not a word." Lies. Dirty lies. I could've given her my full name, social security number, and the truth behind Area 51 for all I know. The only thing I know is I woke up this morning with a pounding headache, in a room that wasn't my room, with a note on the stand which said:

Vincent,

Thank you for such a delectably natural evening. The room is taken care of. Stay as long as you'd like. It was a pleasure.

XoXoXo

And the shredded condom on the floor. That was a first. Hopefully I used another one. Hopefully.

"Yeah. Definitely nothing about The Progressives," I whisper. We're boarding now, handing in our tickets. A poster of Circe in her dino form greets us with the words BACK TO NATURE. Back to nature my tail, what I really need is back to bed. I snort and look around for a drink. I wonder if they'll make me a blended virgin daiquiri. With extra coconut shavings, of course.