Free Bird
A story of a bird and a mouse fucking on a train.
From the windows of the station, trains come and go, riding across rails, screeching their way across the country. A large bird sits on a bench, nervously watching the trains whiz by. His black wings cross against his chest, his body thin yet with a bit of tone. He taps his foot against the marble tile of the floor. His hat, a fedora, a bit too big for his head, slides off his head slightly, and adjusts it occasionally. His posture is slack against the wooden bench. Waiting. Just waiting for the train.
And so the train came, and the bird, Francois, loaded himself up to the train, putting his bags up above his seat.
Soon, the train came to a stop at a station further ahead. A white-furred mouse steps on to the train, carrying two large suitcases in his paws. He smiles over at the bird, who gives him a grin back, his nerves suddenly disappearing. The bird stands up just as the mouse mozies himself over to the seat. The bird wraps his feathered wings around the slight mouse, squeezing him hard as he presses his beak to the mouse's lips. The mouse giggles a bit at the awkwardness of a beak kissing his lips, but returns it nonetheless.
"It's so nice to see you, Francois." The mouse was grinning heavily, as if the smile would float off his cheeks. Happiness was a rare thing in his life.
"I'm so happy to see you, too, mate." The bird himself was smiling just as widely. The two sat at the same bench, and simply stared at each other for a good minute.
"So, this is it? It's happening?" The mouse fiddled with the red tie underneath his black waistcoat. He adjusted the cuffs of his white shirt, and the simply rested his hand on the bird's wing.
Francois simply squeezed the mouse's paw in return. "Yeah, sure it is. We'll get a nice week to ourselves. It's gonna be real nice, for the two of us." He pressed his beak into the neck of the mouse.
"Francois, are you still trying to get your bakery up and running? How's life been? It's been so long. Too long." He noticed a wrinkle in the blue tie underneath the bird's waistcoat, which has a single button undone. He fixed the tie quickly, then buttoned the waistcoat. He had a knack for that. A knack for fashion. He noticed little things, and often fixed Francois' little mishaps.
"Ted, why you gotta do that? I can dress myself, y'know. Um, regardless, I'm still trying to get the funds up for the shop." He pulled out a carton of cigarettes and a lighter. Mavericks. Francois's favorite.
"You know you aren't supposed to smoke in here, Francois." Ted was an avid follower of rules. Breaking rules always made him nervous, suffer panic attacks.
"Calm down, mate, it's gonna be fine, eh?" He crawled across Ted's lap, the meek little guy sighing and turning his head a bit. His ears flushed a little. The bird popped the window open and light up, taking a breath in and blowing smoke out of his beak. A minute later and he was done, all puffed out.
He smelt like cheap cigarettes. But it didn't bother the mouse much. There was something underneath the smell of cheap cigarettes that always brought him back for more.
At the next stop, all passengers who were on the train had left already. The bird and mouse were the only two people left in the car.
And of course, Francois begins to tug on Ted's arm.
"C'mon mate, it's just a lil' foolin' around." He spoke softly to the boy as he began to unbutton Ted's waistcoast. "No, no, stop! This isn't right! We're in public!" Ted was quite panicked as his waistcoat was unwilling pulled off, his tie undone, suspenders removed, shirt unbuttoned.
And with the unbuttoning of the shirt came the gentle peckings of a beak against his nipples. The meek little mouse could only moan, gasp, sigh underneath the bird who would gently nibble against one nipple, while his wing tweaked the other. The mouse's ears burned. This wasn't standard protocol for him. But it was nice. It had been awhile for them both.
The bird began to unzip the mouse's trousers with his beak. The mouse was simply exasperated, looking up at the ceiling, down to the bird, out the window, over to the door... No one around to see.
And without consideration of the mouse, Francois begins to rub his beak down the shaft of the mouse's member, a firm grip using his beak, rolling his tongue against it. The mouse's foreskin begins to roll back and forth over the head, and he can't help but release moans, gasps, sighs.
The bird let go of the mouse's member, and begins to rub his tongue underneath the foreskin, circling around the head. He then dips his beak into the mouse's crotch, taking the entire length in his mouth, running his tongue down it, sucking, then returning the tongue to its nest, the foreskin. The mouse can't help himself, simply placing his paws on the head of the bird, pressing down, then pulling it up, creating a steady rhythm. Oh, he was soon to burst! The bird slurped all of the mouse's produce down, taking his beak off of the mouse with a small pop.
Stars in his eyes, Ted grabs Francois and pulls him close, kissing him fiercely, tasting himself on his beak, his tongue. Francois runs his wings down Ted's smooth fur, pulling his trousers off completely. He kisses down his body, listening to more of his gasps, sighs, and moans, as he reaches the boy's taint, the musky aroma filling his nostrils. A sack lays on top of his beak as he licks and bites at the taint, a hidden pleasure spot, earning squeaks and mutters from the boy, kissing and moving down to his buttocks. He presses his beak between the two cheeks, round and perky, and licks around the hole there, sucking on it, sticking his thick, slippery tongue into it, grabbing on to the boy's thighs and shoving himself deep down there, letting himself work the boy over with ease.
And more stars fill Ted's eyes, as Francois has finished applying the self-made lubricant. He stands up, kisses Ted once more, and presses his own member against the whole, sighing softly as he pushes into the boy, his rear end tight and resistant. But soon it gives in, and the mouse takes in the bird's whole package.
The bird thrusts over and over, each time shaking the mouse, who cannot help but utter cries out. Oh, how he loves this bird! Francois truly is great to him. The bird presses his beak to the mouse's lips once again, tying his tongue around the mouse's own appendage. He can't help it, after all.
And so the two reach utter bliss, as the mouse once again squirms, his hips moving back and forth against the black bird, his heart practically beating out of his chest. The bird gives one last thrust, delivering a load of love unto the mouse. And the mouse delivers his own all over the suit of the bird.
The train reaches the next station, and a few passengers step on board. They can't help but notice a strange smell mixed in with the scent of cheap cigarettes. Francois unpacks a handkerchief from his suit's pocket, and wipes himself off, hoping that the smell isn't too strong. Ted can't help but lean against Francois's shoulder, nodding off, tired, exhausted, sleepy. And so he drifts off, Francois placing a blanket over him.
And soon, Francois realizes he himself is fairly tired, and his eyes begin to burn and feel the heavy burden of sleep. They still have awhile to go, after all. Their destination was still awhile off.
Soon Francois woke up, detaching his head from Ted's. He looked out the window and noticed the train had passed through a dry desert area, where the sun scorched the hard earth. A station was coming up soon.
"Aww, shit, we went too far! Ted! Wake up, mate, we gotta get off soon."
And so they carried off their luggage, ready to born the next train south.