Windfall: An Otter-Body Experience

by Tempe O'Kun

  Slinking into the room, she made sure to close the door. With her luck, this’d be the morning Mom made good on her promise to surprise everyone with breakfast and see into the room from the kitchen. With a steadying breath, Kylie eased a knee onto the mattress and lifted the sheet.

  Max wore loose charcoal-blue boxer shorts. She’d seen them a few times, though usually just long enough to get her paws on them and throw them across the room. They brought out the colors of his pelt pretty well. Just like Maxie to dress well only when nobody would see. Her fingers traced the fly of his boxers. With care, she unbuttoned and spread the fabric, then squeaked with joy. She always adored looking at his package and having him asleep brought the advantage of him not getting shy. The soft white fur of his stomach changed to a patch of black at his pubic region, leading down to his very full white sheath and the silk-furred orbs beneath. His sheath already looked plump; she wondered if he’d been dreaming of her.

  She traced a hand over his hips, then down between his muscular thighs. One throb at a time, her boyfriend’s pink canine cocktip emerged from its hiding place.

  Max sniffed and rolled his head to one side, nose twitching.

  Kylie smirked. She ran a paw up and down his growing length, eliciting a moan from her sleeping husky. It pulsed under her palm, its naked heat growing as it stiffened. She took hold of his sheath and worked it up and down over the smooth flesh. Her other paw meandered to those delicate, white-furred orbs and rolled them around. Deft fingers lifted his balls through the opening in the shorts.

  The canine’s head lay against the pillow, eyes closed. As the seconds passed, his breathing deepened, though his girth still throbbed in her paw.

  She stroked the hot surface of his shaft. Otters loved grabbing things, holding them, exploring them, yet nothing had ever felt as right in her paw as his smooth, hot dick. Her fingertips caressed his opening, spreading a drop of clear, sticky fluid. With nervous care, she rubbed it along his full length, then marveled at how that slight lubrication changed the feel of his cock under her paw pads and webbing.

  The canine whimpered in pleasure, panting. His legs stirred against the tousled sheets.

  She’d always loved how sensitive Max was, given he was built like such a tough guy. The otter bit her lower lip and watched with her hand around him, wondering if he’d wake up.

  A tremor of tension ran through his hips, but the husky’s tongue lolled out of his muzzle in dreamy wonder. He’d never look that undignified awake—at least, not before orgasm.

  Rubbing her thighs together at the thought of Max’s climax, the otter decided she’d teased him enough. She stared down the length of his erection with a grin, then licked her lips. Her paw closed around the base to hold it steady. She rubbed her silky nose against its contours, then gave the side a gentle, tasting lick. Starting with a light kiss to the tip, her mouth spread wide around the thick canine cock, muzzle wrapped around it, feeling its weight and heat on her tongue. A soft hum of pleasure rumbled deep inside her chest as she tasted her boyfriend’s precum-slicked member. She took inch after slick inch of red husky dick into her muzzle, pausing every inch or so to suckle, coaxing out a little more of his juices.

  Max groaned in his sleep and twitched a paw at his hip, but gave no other signs of waking.

  The lutrine bobbed her head, sucking as hard as she dared. Really, him waking up wouldn’t be terrible, but it would ruin her plan. Her tongue swirled around the head of his cock, then down to push his sheath, just like she knew he liked. This exposed the swelling bulge of his knot, which she squeezed with her pinkie finger as she returned to sucking his tip. He dribbled hot, plentiful precum into her muzzle, but she’d never minded a little extra moisture. With a swallow, she dove back down and let him fill her whole muzzle with his thick canine shaft.

  Whimpering with desire, the husky’s hand drifted onto his lap, then curled under his knot. His other hand slipped around the back of her head, fingers interleaved with her hair as he sleepily tugged her muzzle down his length.

  Giggling around his dick, the otter’s paw replaced his at rubbing behind that ample bulge. She eased just a little further down his dick, until her lips kissed at the knot. One more strong suckle and—

  Max gasped, one powerful arm lifting his back off the mattress while the other held her close with frantic need. His hips gave a short, sharp buck into her warm, slick muzzle.

  She coughed at the unexpected movement, but redoubled her efforts. Her lips closed around his shaft, tongue dancing along his length to flick at his knot. Proud of her efforts, she watched his sleepy expression shift from distraction to ecstasy.

  The dog groaned and tension fluttered through his fluffy bulk. His cock twitched in her paw and over her tongue. The next instant, a volley of creamy heat spurted against the roof of her mouth. She pulled off and stroked the dribbles of white over his crimson shaft. It rolled in beads over the slick fur of her hand and pattered over the cotton boxers. With a nice coating of his own cream, the texture of his shaft slid under her fingers.

  Hips jerking as he came, the husky’s whimpers of pleasure faded to a panted afterglow. Still his heartbeat throbbed in her grasp, along with the occasional twitch. The husky sat up a little, blinked at her once, and flashed a dreamy smile.

  She froze. She’d have to come up with an excuse. Not that he’d need much of one considering—

  He slumped back to the pillow and passed out, leg twitching.

  “Seriously?” Stifling her whisper, Kylie rolled her eyes at her canine boyfriend. A final string of heat dribbled down her palm, drawing her attention to his slick and shrinking shaft. The otter smiled with pride and reached to wipe her boyfriend’s juices from her whiskers, then stopped herself. Instead, she reached for her phone.

  Max awoke nose-deep in soft otter fur. Stirring, he found his best friend had curled up in his arms. Her supple body conformed to his so well, he hadn’t even noticed.

  She twirled in his embrace to face him. Those soft hazel eyes greeted him with the delicate joy of fresh wakefulness “Hey.”

  “Morning, rudderbutt.” His paws traced her from nape to tail, smoothing her well-worn t-shirt. “Get lonely last night?”

  “Mmmhmm…” She nuzzled into his neck fur. “I’ll have to sneak in more often.”

  Mixed feelings stirred within Max at that: Laura thought the two of them dating was cute, but the husky suspected discretion was the better part of not offending your girlfriend’s mom. He’d been the one to insist they at least keep up the pretense of sleeping in separate rooms.

  She poked him in the ribs. “You don’t even remember me climbing into bed, do you?”

  He shook his head and tried to put into words how natural she felt against him: a best friend’s touch layered with a lover’s caress. His tail swept under the covers, and he held her closer.

  A chitter of amusement emanated from her with a shrug. “Of course not.”

  He woofed a quiet laugh. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing, Maxie.” She patted his paw and wiggled for the edge of the bed. “I think you need some breakfast.”

  He lifted an arm to let her out. “What about you?”

  With an amused titter, she shrugged. “I’ve already had a snack.”

  The husky’s ears tilted as glanced around the room for tuna melt crumbs. “Okay? What, leftovers?”

  “Freshly made.” Sleek hips swayed her out of his room, dragging his gaze all the way to the door.

  As the fabric of his boxers shifted, sticky fur tugged his balls and sheath. Heat flushed his ears. She couldn’t have. He must have gotten riled up by her scent and come in his sleep. Against her. The covers and Kylie had hidden its scent, but, with her gone, he smelled like sex.

  Sneaking up and shutting the door, he stripped out of his boxers and tossed them in the hamper. Never had he been so glad the guest room had its own shower. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a wet dream; not since his mid teens, at l
east. As the hot water raced over his body, he lathered a little extra shampoo into his pelt. If Kylie smelled spunk on him, he’d have to fess up about coming against her and that road lead to no end of teasing. Of course, she may well have woken up to his nocturnal humping, in which case his fate was sealed hours ago.

  After a thorough shower, he shook the water from his fur and stepped out to towel off. He could hear banging about in the kitchen; a rarity since neither of the Bevys were early birds. He hurried into some clothes and trotted out into the entryway.

  Kylie sat at the table behind a phone and cup of coffee. She looked up, then crossed her legs. “Hey, handsome.”

  With a shy wag, he padded across the tile and planted a kiss on her cheek. He nodded at the phone. “What’re you up to?”

  “The usual. Checking the networks, responding to fans.” Her eyes flicked between him and the phone. “I promise social media’s not as scary as you think.”

  He shrugged. “I’m still liking Howl.”

  “Howl was founded by cats who didn’t want to hear about tennis balls every ten seconds.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m talkin’ about non-anonymous social media used by non-canines. Being a minor TV star’s pretty cool; you have enough fans that they’re excited to talk with you, but the crazies don’t think you’re worth locking in their basements.”

  He pondered the notion. “I guess I have time, now that I’m unemployed.”

  “Good.” She squirmed, pleased. “I’ll get you the passwords.”

  His ears popped up. “What?”

  She opened new pages on her phone and handed it to him.

  He flicked through the sites, one for each of his various social network profiles. “Why’d you make these?”

  “So no one else could.” Pride wiggled down her frame. “You’re famous, remember?”

  He swiped through the accounts. “These are all verified.”

  “I talked to your agent.” She leaned back in her chair.

  “My agent is your mom!” He jabbed a finger at her second-story office.

  The otter crossed her arms and nodded. “That made it very easy to get a meeting.”

  “No wonder she gave up on getting me to sign up.” He scrolled down through the entries. “You’ve been posting as me?”

  She shrugged and took a sip of coffee. “Everyone we talked to agreed I was the most qualified.”

  “That explains all those high-angle shots you take of me.” He blinked at the parade of Maxes on the screen. “My gallery is full of hero-poses of myself.”

  The smirking lutrine dipped the mug in his direction. “I play the angle that you’ve still got some acting ambitions.”

  “Apparently only for shirtless roles.” He thumbed through a few shots cropped to leave the existence of his pants to the imagination. “No wonder that Ukrainian kibble company thought I’d do a commercial in my underwear.”

  In the comments section, he found a backlog of notes people from in his hometown.

  “Don’t worry—I’ve been replying.” She patted his knee as he sat. “You’re super polite and super stoic, so it’s easy to make them feel like you care in a dozen syllables or so. Or maybe a serious emoji.” Her face donned a too-serious expression.

  He chuckled at her, then snorted at the phone. “None of these people knew I existed in high school.”

  “Yeah, but then you got famous.” Her supple body oozed back into the chair.

  “This explains a lot of awkward conversations I had when I was home.” He glanced to her. “When do you even have time to post all this?”

  “Once in a while I wake up and can’t get back to sleep right away.” Her tail swayed to nudge his calf. “You wouldn’t know what that’s like.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You sleep like the dead and aren’t a zombie in the morning.” She set down her coffee cup.

  “That’s an exaggeration.”

  “I thought you might say that.” Kylie snatched back her phone with a grin, tapped through a few menus, then handed it back.

  The rectangular screen held a well-composed self-shot photo. The image showed an otter’s smile, smeared with semen. Over a sea of monochrome fur, a webbed paw gripped the knot of a very familiar-looking dick. His.

  Max’s ears shot up in shock as he fumbled to hide the screen and scoured the kitchen for evidence her mother had teleported in to see. “Kylie!”

  “Now do you believe me that you’re a heavy sleeper?”

  “If this gets on the internet, it’ll outlast cockroaches!”

  “I made sure it didn’t identify us and I’m not posting it. Besides…” Her round muzzle brushed against his chest as her blue eyes beamed up at him. “…that could be any otter sucking off any husky. Internet’s full of the stuff—believe me, I’ve checked.”

  Max’s paw cupped her face. “I’m sure you have.” His thumb stroked her cheek ruff as he leaned forward for a tender kiss on her smiling lips. His tail stirred the air behind his chair. He ran a hand down her flank. “Speaking of which, it seems I owe you an orgasm.”

  Forget-Me-Nots and Told-You-Sos

  Kylie had been in the makeup chair for an hour as glow-in-the-dark paint was carefully applied to look like veins and runes on her finger webbing. The script said they showed she’d be filled with mystical energy, but the practical effect was that she couldn’t touch anything while they dried.

  As luck would have it, she had a husky to send for lunch. They’d been out of chopsticks, so he just kept popping sashimi into her mouth by hand. He smirked as she munched each bite happily.

  Paula, a raccoon makeup artist, knelt beside her, alternately using an impossibly-tiny brush to apply paint and a beaver-grade blowdryer to blast it dry. Her dark eyes focused with singular intensity on her work. She’d already airbrushed the same paint into the fur of Kylie’s arms. This was the more detailed work, though.

  The teenage otter, however, wiggled with contentment. She felt queenly, being waited on as she sat in a battered, vinyl throne. Maybe she could have Max bring a palm frond to fan her. The prop department probably had a plastic one stashed somewhere.

  Lance, the lead lighting guy, prowled in to test that the paint would glow properly under UV light. He was an ocelot, about as tall as Max’s chest: the perfect size for scrambling up and down rigging.

  Max smiled and headed back to the set.

  The golden feline glanced over and watched Max leave. His tan eyes turned to shine on Kylie, brow stripes shifting with amusement. “I know what you tell the fans and reporters, but come on: are you guys dating?”

  The lutrine sat up. “What? No!”

  His sleek paw waved idly. “Just saying: you guys are pretty fond of each other.” That supple tail swished through the air as he pranced around the makeup chair. “Always hanging off each other, always touching each other.”

  “Ugh!” Kylie rolled her eyes. “We’re friends.”

  “A friend who moved in with you.” He tossed the black light between his hands.

  She gripped the chair and earned a dirty look from the makeup artist. “And my mom.”

  “And who just fed you two rolls of sushi by hand.” His chest puffed up under a slinky black shirt.

  Through the hole in the back of the chair, she lashed her rudder at him. “Shut up, Lance.”

  Paula didn’t look up, still painting. “Hey, give the girl a break.”

  “I’m just looking out for her.” The ocelot lifted his palms, shaking his hips side to side. His gilded muzzle flashed the captive actor a shameless look. “Or maybe for Max.”

  Expression unchanged, Paula turned the blow-dryer on his face, blasting his whiskers.

  Lance yowled and scampered back. “Fine, fine.” With a snicker, he padded out of the room. “I was just curious.”

  As if she’d never been disturbed, the raccoon got back to painting. “Ignore him. You don’t have to tell him anything.”

  A huff of breath steadied Kylie. At l
east she had one ally. “Thanks, Paula.”

  The makeup artist nodded. Her dark eyes flicked up to Kylie for an instant. “You can totally tell me, though.”

  Kylie shuffled out of the makeup department. Paula had commanded her to hold her hands out like a surgeon going into an operating room, which only made her feel more self-conscious. Not that anyone paid particular attention to a painted otter on the set of Strangeville, but every adult who passed by seemed likely to ask her about Max next.

  At least she knew exactly where to find the dog. She waddled through a half-assembled demonic gateway to the catering table.

  Max stood, unobtrusive, in a corner. He looked up, muzzle-deep in a steak sandwich. That fluffy tail wagged as he spotted her.

  “All done.” She lifted her hands, fingers starting to feel sore from being spread so long. “Full of arcane power.”

  Swallowing, he nodded with approval. Already taller than everybody except the giraffe boom mic operator, his teenage body seemed intent on converting all red meat into muscle mass.

  She resisted the urge to plant her hands on her hips, fearing another hour in the makeup chair. Instead, she settled for flapping her hands at him. “You were allowed to come back, you know.”

  “I was planning to after another couple sandwiches.” Blue eyes shy, he brushed a lock of dark hair behind his ear. “I don’t like to get in Paula’s way.”

  The otter groaned. “Wish you would’ve…”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  Her eyes rolled. “She and Lance think we’re dating.”

  He chuckled. “Them and most of the fandom.” Then he assembled a few more sandwiches and stacked them on a paper plate. Stocked up, he followed her back toward the set.

  Traipsing over power cords and dodging around crew, Kylie led him onward. “What’s up with that?”

  He shrugged, wolfing down another sandwich.

  They stood at the edge of the set, watching crew try to install fake fireplaces upside-down in a mirrored corridor. Once they were done, she could get up there and shoot this stupid magic scene. And then she could stop spreading her increasingly-strained fingers. This was turning into a long day.