We were in the car, driving down the interstate, heading for Tommy’s home. Tommy and I were college mates. We made fast friends of each other and ended up sharing a few classes in our second and third years. At the time, it was our third year, and Tommy had invited me to his place for the break. Unlike me, who’s home was more than a seven hour drive away, Tommy’s place was less than half that. The two of us got along like brothers, so it was nice to finally see where the guy lived.
 
One thing I didn’t mention yet is that Tommy is one of those anthro people. Specifically, he’s a raccoon. Pretty tall bastard, too. Damn near the size of a tree. He stood out in the dorm whenever he walked around. Anyway, Tommy’s a raccoon. Gray fur, coal black eyes, the mask and ringed tail, the works. One of the jokes he usually makes about me is that, since I tend to have a messed up sleep schedule that gives me heavy bags under my eyes, he likes to call me his brother. I always just say he must come from an ugly chick if he’s my brother, and he responds in kind about my own mom.
 
Hoo boy, if only I knew then what I did now.
 
So, we were passing sign after sign before finally, Tommy leaps out of the seat and yells “That’s the one, turn right, turn right, turn right!” He was pointing and waving at me, as if I couldn’t see or hear him being so damn loud.
 
“Alright, man, calm the hell down. I’m turning.” As I ease into the right lane, we pass just underneath the sign declaring the exit for New Orleans. I’d never been there before. Always heard lots of stories about it, though, mostly from Tommy himself.
 
He would always regale me with tales of the food and culture. The smells and sights one would encounter down in the French Quarter. The local theater productions. The street artists and musicians playing their hearts out, as well as the hustlers trying to make a quick buck. Honestly, this trip was the perfect excuse I needed to finally see what all the fuss was about. Plus, I even got a free room out of it.
 
It wouldn’t be for another half hour before we could make our way close to his house. The narrow roads in the city, combined with all the foot traffic and potholes, made it slow going. I was able to keep my eye peeled for all the sights, though. The colors of the buildings, the streetcars, the random food vendors and street performers. It was a different sight than my quiet home in Mississippi. I could see why Tommy liked to talk about this place so often.
 
Turns out, the lying raccoon didn’t live in the heart of New Orleans as he always claimed, but rather in a small little area just a mile or two away. It wasn’t a bad place, though. Nice looking houses on every street, trees lining the median, well kept roads unlike the main part of the city itself. If I didn’t have Tommy with me, I’d have assumed I got lost in a different town altogether.
 
After crisscrossing down side roads and back, we finally made it to my friend’s home. It was a simple two story brick building. The outside was pretty well taken care of, there was even a little garden in the front lawn. A tiny little rosebush was at one end of the garden, while at the other end sat a small magnolia tree. The middle of the garden was a row of a handful of flowers, all different colors and sizes. As we got of my car, I walked next to the little garden, and was greeted by a wonderful bouquet of scents.  
 
I noticed the carport was already occupied by a small beige car. I figured this was Tommy’s mom. He’d mentioned she’d probably be home by the time we got there.
 
“Oh damn, I’m so glad to be home again, you don’t even know,” mumbled the tall raccoon next to me. He grabbed his bags and headed for the door, with me trailing after with my own luggage.
He barely had time to fish his keys out of his pocket when the door swung open, introducing my eyes to a beautiful angel of a woman.
 
Silky smooth gray fur. Deep midnight eyes. A black mask tinged with the slightest hint of white. This was no doubt Tommy’s mom. I noticed straight away she was a bit shorter than me. I guessed my friend’s height must have come from his dad, then. In my distraction, I failed to properly introduce myself, forcing Tommy to do it for me.
 
“Hey mom, so this is my friend Sam I told you about.” He nudged my shoulder before heading inside the house. He was so tall, the damn raccoon had to hunch down so as to not hit the top of the doorframe. From inside the house, I could hear him yell out, “Thanks for agreeing to let him stay.”
 
The matured raccoon gave me a soft smile. “Nice to meet ya, Sam. Tommy’s told me a lot about ya. It’s nice to finally meet.” Turning, she followed after her son. “Come on in, make yourself at home, sweetheart.”
 
As she was walking away, I took notice of her generous curvy frame, especially her butt. I’m a man, of course I notice that stuff. And her body was pleasantly plump. The kind of weight a woman puts on when she’s had a kid or two and lived a good life. Finally snapping myself out of my little stupor, I picked up my bags and headed inside.
 
It was a really nice place. Simple, but nice. Hardwood floors complimented by off-white walls, which had white trimmings. The entrance actually opened into the living room, and from what I could see, they had a consistent theme of the furniture being brown leather. A rather large wall mounted television was playing some stand-up comic’s routine. They weren’t particularly funny. Housed beneath the tv, inside a wooden box with a glass front, was the entertainment center. The cable box, blu-ray player, an old fashioned vhs player, and even a handful of gaming consoles.
 
Situated right next to the entertainment center was a door leading to, what I would later find out, was a small closet holding all the movies, tv shows, and games the family owned. At a few points along the walls of the living room were the speakers for a surround sound system. Those made the supposed comic’s ‘jokes’ sound like they were all around me. Joy of joys.
 
The right side of the living room opened up to the dining room and kitchen. Hardwood floors stopped, replaced by cool black and white tile. It was in there where Tommy had plopped down, his bags dropped to the floor. His mother was busying herself at the stove. The wave of scents that wafted over proved she was frying up some fish.
 
“Ever had fried catfish before?” she called over her shoulder. Those sable eyes met mine and I stumbled over my words.
 
“Um...no m-ma’am,” I mumbled out. “I don’t eat a l-lot of fish.”
 
A smile split her face then. “Oh, good. You’re gonna love this, I just know it.” As she was finishing up, she went to grab some plates from a nearby cabinet. Even with my friend right there next to me, I couldn’t help but ogle at his mom’s backside and she was stretching up to get the plates. Thankfully, Tommy was too busy on his phone to notice me. At least, I hoped so.
 
As I sat down, the gray furred mother was delivering two platefuls of fried catfish right to Tommy and me. She took the nearest seat, which just happened to be right next to me, and smiled as she watched us eat. I must admit, the fish was delicious. A bit saltier than I’d like, but great. When I finished, I mentioned this and the raccoon woman’s smile widened even more, almost threatening to fly off her face.
 
“See? I toldja you’d like it.” She slapped my back gently and got up. “Now, how about I show you to where you’ll be staying while you’re here?” Without even waiting for me to follow, she was off to the staircase on the edge of the living room. Quickly gathering my things, I hurried after her, partly to use this time to watch her butt as she climbed the stairs. The way it jiggled and moved was intoxicating. I could feel my lower brain reacting to this sight, and I fought with it to stay calm.
 
Once at the top of the stairs, she lead me down the hall and to a door on the right. Turning to face me, she explained, “Here’s our guest room. You’ll feel right at home.”
 
“Thanks, ma’am. It’s really-”
 
A frown disturbed her beautiful smile. “Now, you stop it with that ‘ma’am’ nonsense. Just call me Liza.”
 
“Uh...alright, Ms. Liza.” The words came out a bit slow.
 
A black furred hand came in view. She waggled one of her clawed fingers at me. “Ah-ah. Just Liza.”
 
I was feeling a bit hesitant, to be honest. I’d be taught to always call older people mister or miss and things like that. To have a woman old enough to be my own mom telling me to abandon that ingrained teaching, it made me a kinda cautious. I knew it was just a name, so it shouldn’t be that big an issue, but I was so used to growing up giving older people respect. It felt a bit weird to be so casual with an older person, even more so a mother.
 
After what felt like an hour, but was probably just a second or two, I finally managed, “If you say so, Liza.”
 
After hearing her name properly, I noticed her ears flicker a little bit. With that, Liza’s smile returned and she patted my back. “Now see? That ain’t so hard.” Descending the stairs, she left me to settle in my temporary room.
 
It was sorta like a hotel room. A simple bed, tv, dresser, and a small desk. Nothing really fancy. After I put my stuff away in the dresser, I sat down on the bed. An old box spring mattress. Not the comfiest thing in the world, but beggars can’t be choosers. While the trip wasn’t a long one, I did feel a bit tired. I shucked off my clothes and lay down. The sheets were freshly cleaned, and had that wonderful warmth of being recently picked from the dryer.
 
A few hours later, I was woken up by the sound of the door opening and closing. It wasn’t particularly loud, but it managed to rouse me. As I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, I felt a hand slide up my cloth covered leg. The hand in question had tiny claws on the tips of the fingers. Up it traveled, until it came to rest on my cheek, where I then felt a second hand land on my chest.
 
Liza’s soft voice whispered out, “Just relax, sweetie. Don’t say a word, and let me handle everything.”
 
I was feeling a bit nervous then. What if Tommy was still around? “But what about-”
 
Placing a softly fuzzed finger to my lips, she silenced me. She seemed to know my thoughts. “He went out for a while to go see his little girlfriend.”
 
With a smirk, she yanked off the sheets, leaving me exposed. Despite the situation, my lower brain had yet to fully respond. Liza didn’t seem to mind, though. She crawled into bed next to me, and reached down to slowly stroke me to life. The soft padded hand did wonders for me, almost immediately making me stand to attention.
 
The mature raccoon let out a contented sigh, then shifted herself around in bed. It was then I realized she wasn’t wearing pants. Thick thighs covered in gray fur ended near the feet, where the fur turned black. The small area of fur in the middle of her legs proved to be matted down with moisture. Without a word, I grabbed hold of her curvy hips and pulled her bottom half on top of me. Fuzz covered legs rested on either side of my head, and I was more than happy to bring my lips to her honeypot.
 
A short gasp reached my ears as I tasted her. Enjoying my actions, my older partner lay there moaning before finally taking hold of my length and engulfing it, pushing nearly all of it inside her throat. Instinctively, I thrust my hips up, only to hear her gag and push me back down.
 
“Sweetheart, you can’t be that rough with me,” she mumbled, still letting out small moans as I dug my tongue deeper inside her. “It’s been a while since I’ve taken one of these bad boys.”
 
The next several minutes consisted of the two of us pleasuring one another, devouring each other’s sex, and finally releasing ourselves. We were a bit of a sticky mess, but Liza just let a little laugh out, got on top of me, and straddled my hips. She rubbed her mound against my hardness and leaned in to meet eye to eye.
 
She said three simple words that drove me crazy.
 
“Don’t be gentle.”