[Tags: human(M) x anthro(F, Otter), oral (Fellatio, Cunnilingus), potentially excessive wetness, psuedo-first time, squirting, vaginal, cream pie, handholding]

>”Alright Tin, that covers it for calculus today.” You say with a tired smile, pulling yourself up from the slouch that had you leaning over the table.
>You feel your back crack as you sit up straight, and you twist a couple times while stifling a yawn. “I’m pretty sure you don’t need my help anymore, you know. You took your last tests two weeks ago.”
>The young otter across from you squirms in her chair, fiddling with the pen in her hand ,“Yeah, but what about college and stuff?”
>She’s trying her best to not look directly at you, staring lasers of faux intensity into the several worksheets covered in now solved equations that lay between the both of you.
>Bushy hair droops over her face, and she is forced to brush it away in an attempt to keep up the illusion that she’s actually interested in math homework for the first time in her life.
>You laugh at both the question and her expression, but mostly the latter. “Two things Tin. One, this is the third time you’ve done this exact worksheet. Two, I’m only good for teaching high school stuff, and you’re all set to graduate in a couple days.”
>All the reasoning in the world had no value in front of a girl like her. With a growl of exasperation, she slaps the pen down onto the table, “Okay, fine. Maybe I just want to hang out with my husband before the trip!” Dark blue eyes stare into yours as she crosses her arms, brow furrowing in frustration.

--

>You are Anon, and you are most certainly not this young otter’s husband.
>What you are is her tutor. 
>Your official title is live-in tutor, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.
>Rather than being her family’s personal teaching assistant, you and several others in your position are in charge of “educational assistance to the youths of all families living within the City Habitat living space of Elca River County.”
>A rather new and experimental development, City Habitats are massive, multi-acre communal living grounds. Practically a village tucked away within a city, you would describe it.
>And City Habitat just so happens to employ many people to entice people to live within this thought experiment taken perhaps too far, including the likes of tutors and cleaning services.
>Kids like Tinneal here went to regular schools, but when they came home they had access to people like you and your coworkers in case they needed help.
>Tinneal herself has been one of your students since she was a highschool freshman. Though in your experience she never actually needed the help. You lost count of how many times she would show up for her scheduled session, homework almost finished when she got there.
>She would simply just drag out how long it would take her to finish the remaining assignments just so she could chat with you. At first you thought it was just cute. A curious otter girl who wanted an adult friend.
>Then she turned sixteen halfway into her sophomore year.
>Humans get kind of finicky when defining the beginning of adulthood. Depending on what country’s laws you were looking at, it was anywhere from sixteen to twenty one.
>Anthros? That had to decided on a species to species case. Unfortunately for you, otters worldwide decided sixteen was when their swimming obsessed lot could call themselves adults.
>You learned this when Tinneal showed up for her regularly scheduled history lesson, only for her to throw her backpack onto the floor the moment you opened the door and tackle you to the ground right after it.
>She had managed to get in a few sloppy kisses before you finally pried her off of your face and demand an explanation.
>Without a care in the world, she had sat up on your chest, hands propped on her waist and proudly proclaimed, “Anon Ymous, from now on I am going to be your wife!”
>It took a in-depth explanation of things such as statutory rape and what conflict of interest laws were before she finally backed down and climbed off you.
>After all, it would do no good if the man of her dreams was carted off to jail for fulfilling his duties as a husband to his beautiful wife.
>You had to cancel that session, and immediately called her parents over to your apartment to explain what happened.
>They were more…neutral than you expected. Or hoped. Her mother only shrugged, saying she was glad her daughter had decent taste in men. You seemed like a nice enough fellow to her, after all.
>Her father was even less invested in this, and thought that so long as Tinneal had the hots for you, she wasn’t going to run off with some, quote, “Stinking horse bastard.”
>Without her parents to calm her down and the law, or rather the potential risk of you being arrested, acting as your only safety net Tinneal was free to flirt as she pleased.
>You had to come up with several rules just for the sake of your own sanity.
>No physical contact was a no brainer, but she reasoned it away as saving herself for your honeymoon.
>Right after that was that she had to stop calling you her husband.
>She followed that one for a bit. After a few days though, you noticed her mood was starting to sour.
>Then her grades started dropping, and her behavior worsened to the point where her parents had knocked on your door at nine at night to ask what the hell you had done to their daughter.
>The poor thing was obviously more serious than you had thought, so you caved and added a caveat to the rule:
>She could call you her husband, and claim to be your wife, but only in private, away from listening ears.
>It seemed to work, and she went back to the energetic, peppy otter that you knew before.
>During the summer between her sophomore and junior high school years she became a bit troublesome. It started with hugs that lasted a little too long as she buried her head into your chest before saying goodbye.
>Then near the end of summer break the wily girl would steal a kiss on your cheek or even your lips whenever you weren’t expecting it.
>Thankfully she seemed to finally cool off when she hit seventeen, and for the past two years she had been relatively well behaved.
>You reasoned that, in a stroke of paradoxical luck, the hormones of her growing body somehow calmed her down. The flirting eventually stopped, even if the pet name never did.
>Not that she didn’t surprise you every now and then with small displays of affection, such as leaning into rub noses when you were distracted with something else.
>Whatever calmed her down didn’t free you from her. It only took a few questions to learn that she was skipping out on the dating scene entirely, much to the chagrin of many boys her age.
>You weren’t completely without fault though, not with how you played along with it sometimes. Things like as when you claimed to be lucky to have such an incredible wife whenever she succeeded at something. 
>It would send her over the moon, and she would smile for a week straight.
>Really, she could be cute, and you reasoned that one day she’ll make some guy happy. But not you.

--

>You’re only her high school tutor, even if you are her crush. This relationship was destined to end eventually.
>By this time next week, she’ll have walked across that stage, and be moving into a college dorm upstate to focus on getting a higher education.
>Your gentle reminders of this fact only made her unhappier each time. At the start of this month, whenever graduation was brought up she would only groan and play dramatic.
>Now with it only being a few days away it was earning you outbursts like this one.
>It didn’t fit very well with who she was. In fact, it reminded you of that miserable stretch of poor behavior two years ago.
>If she left home in this condition, college was going to be a worse shock to the senses than it was already shaping up to be.
>”Tin, look…” You start, trying to calm her down.
>”No, don’t give me that ‘Tin, look’ business!” An accusatory finger was shot in your direction, “Why are you so casual about this? I’m about to go away for who knows how long, and you’re still trying to play the teacher instead of my husband!”
>Her lips quiver as she holds the finger up, as if the very act took every she had. It must have, because almost immediately she starts to tear up as she pulls her hand back and wraps her arms tight once more.
>”I-I know you think I’m still young, but I really care about this, and...and…” Tinneal paused, half muttering as she tried to find her next words aloud. She finds them before you can interrupt, “AND YOU JUST DON’T!”
>The otter has hit the end of her patience and she jumps out of her seat, hastily grabbing the messenger bag that was both her purse and her backpack.
>She’s already halfway to the door when you stand up, furiously stomping her way out of your home when you turn in her direction.
>”Tin!” You call out, a hand outstretched in a pointless attempt to catch her.
>Hearing her name, she whips around, muscled tail nearly smashing your television off its stand as she faces you.
>For a species of anthro all about being in the water, that fur didn’t take tears very well. Damp patches were already gathering underneath those wide eyes.
>Once again you’re forced to reconcile with something you recognized sometime back in January.
>Two years ago you thought otters considering themselves to be adults at sixteen was ridiculous.
>Now Tinneal was standing in front of you, eighteen years old and ready to storm out if you didn’t do the exact right thing to defuse the situation.
>And goddamn if she hadn’t already hit that confusing point in development where you couldn’t tell an anthro’s age. If you hadn’t known any better, you would call any otter with her shape in their mid-twenties. They bloomed fast.
>Your hand falls to your side and you sigh, “I, uh, ordered you a graduation present.”
>The mere mention of the word ‘graduation’ causes her to stare daggers, lips peeling back in a growl.
>Acting quickly, you hold your hand up and continue, “Now, it won’t get here until that day because I wanted it to arrive at the right time, but when it does I want you to open it. Even if you’re, you know, three days into hating me forever.”
>Tinneal goes tight lipped, taking in a deep breath.
>All you can do is give a weak shrug in your appeal, “Please promise me Tin, you’ll open the present after the ceremony. You’ve been patient for two and a half years, so, please, just give me three more days.”
>Your begging causes the waterworks to worsen as she stands there.
>She doesn’t bother wiping at her crying eyes as you stare at each other, her fur dampening in a trail until it reaches the end of her muzzle and her tears fall off her face.
>For the punishing few moments this shared look lasts, she ends it when she finally speaks, uncharacteristically shaky for an otherwise cocksure otter teenager. “You get three days, Anon. And only because I’ve loved you for this long.”
>She has to clench her teeth to keep her lips from quivering, and she turns about face before leaving, not bothering to close the door behind her.
>The next two days are quiet. Tinneal had been your last pupil still bothering to come in for lessons since the school year was coming in to a close, and it really wasn’t even for educational purposes.
>All you could do for now was paperwork, looking over City Habitat’s roster of students moving from junior high to high school. You and your coworkers would have to divvy up that new work load before the next school year began as well as put together any requested summer lesson plans, but you had a hard time focusing on work.
>Instead you worried about whether or not Amazon delivery crews could do their job on time. Because if not, you were pretty hosed in this situation.
>Day three arrives. The day after schools close their doors for the year. Graduation day.
>Your morning is spent well enough, but your afternoon was booked ahead of time.
>After breakfast and some paperwork, you left to attend Brook Tree High School’s graduation.
>Tinneal wasn’t the only reason you were there. You did have more than one senior pupil this year, after all. Across you and your peers there were twenty five seniors from City Habitat.
>That didn’t mean all your attention wasn’t focused on watching out for a certain otter.
>When she finally crossed the stage, she seemed composed enough. Taking the measured steps that the school had spent the last few days drilling the excited soon-to-be graduates into mastering.
>Not that you could really gauge her mental state from over a hundred yards away in the stands.
>No, what really decided things would be after the ceremony. After a quick shower, you found yourself feeling listless. The only thing you had energy for was lounging on the couch while you waited for her mother’s text.
>When your phone buzzed to life, the only thing the screen displayed with a thumbs up, and you made your way across the communal property in the air of the now cooling evening.
>Arriving at the otter household, the front door is cracked open, and Tinneal’s father opens it further at the sound of your car coming to a stop.
>He’s shorter than you, but he is managing an intimidating glower as he lets you into his home.
>His mood is made more obvious when he speaks in a hushed tone, “I don’t know what’s in that box, Romeo, but if you don’t fix my daughter before she goes off to college, we. Will. Talk.”
>The last few words are hissed out, and you nod in understanding, managing a nervous grin.
>Before he can sling any more venom, his wife interrupts him, shooing him out of the door before she smiles ear to ear up at you.
>”Goodness Anon, I was worried she wasn’t going to take things very well after making her wait until we got home again to open that box.” The motherly woman chuckles, a hand on her chest while she tries to keep quiet.
>”Wouldn’t you know it though? She nearly fainted once she figured out what you sent her.” Tinneal’s mother is barely containing herself as she fans herself. “Not a bad choice, if I can be honest.”
>She reaches up to pat your shoulder a few times. “Grumpy pants and I are off to visit a friend, who is very conveniently going to make sure that lush of of a man is too steeped to drive home tonight. She’s all yours, Mister Husband. Just make sure to wash the sheets afterwards, hm?”
>You don’t know whether it was your face going flush or the expression on it that causes her to laugh, but she lets off a few good ones before toning it back down again and following her husband outside to their car.
>Shaking your head and sighing, you close the front door behind you. All that’s left is to find Tinneal.
>You’ve been over often enough for dinner to know your way around the place. Up the stairs, and second door on the left.
>Finding yourself doing your best to be quiet, you deflate with a deep exhale before knocking on the door with a hazard sign stolen from a construction site.
>There is a yelp on the other side and then the sound of stumbling, followed by panicked footsteps up to the door.
>The knob twists halfway, but it stops before you hear a familiar voice call out from the other side.
>“Who’s there?”
>This is it.
>Doing your best to center yourself, you answer.
>”I’m, uh, here to see my wife.”
>You hear a gasp and the doorknob turns completely, the door opening just the tiniest amount to reveal a pair of deep blue eyes looking up at you.
>Tinneal stares at you through the crack, not sure what to make of you showing up out of nowhere.
>It feels like both of you are holding your breath, and you’re not even the teenager in this situation.
>You decide that it would be for the best to keep things moving before anything stalls out. “I just walked over here, so I might be a bit sweaty. Sorry”
>There’s a bit of a nervous laugh from the other side of the door, “I think a bit of sweating does you good, Anon.”
>The door swings wide, and Tinneal is scratching her feet together as she looks at the ground.
>Otters are covered in head to toe in brown fur, and their lithe bodies generally don’t benefit much from scanty clothing since there isn’t much to show off.
>Still, white is very much her color judging by how well that that lace bra is covering her handful sized chest.
>Or the stockings wrapped around her toned legs, the sheer material of which stopping just a few inches past her knees.
>The only thing that wasn’t partially see-through were the panties she had on, leaving only the barest of details to the imagination. And even then, she wasn’t doing herself any favors with the stain forming along the seam of the underwear.
>”Do I…do I look good?” Tinneal asked, pulling nervously at her wrist as you look her over.
>”You look fantastic.” You assure her
>Picking out her lingerie felt all kinds of inappropriate a couple weeks ago, but you think you did a good job at it. It had looked ridiculous in the preview, but the ribbon trim dancing along the edges of it all was fantastic on an otherwise toned body.
>”You really think-” Her excitement was cut off when you pressed in low for a kiss.
>She manages a yelp before groaning, but you didn’t come all this way just to makeout. 
>While she’s still reeling from the kiss, grinning wide, you scoop her off her feet in a proper bridal carry. Tinneal gasps before squealing with glee.
>Granted, there isn’t far to go as you cross her room in a few paces, but she doesn’t let a single opportunity slip as she reaches up for your face.
>You’re forced to stop as she pulls you down for another excited kiss, her muzzle turning sideways in an eager attempt to deepen the embrace.
>Meeting her halfway with a turn of your own, you earn a melting moan as your tongues cross.
>She must have been serious about only having eyes for you, since her inexperience shows with how she lets you take the lead in what must be her first french kiss.
>The two of you stand right there, with you holding her up in front of her bed as she begins to more confidently explore your tongue with her own.
>Eventually she pulls away and gasps for air, but her eyes stay locked to yours, star struck by the fact that this is actually happening.
>”Again?” She whimpers between rushed breaths, her hands keeping her pressed against you with determined strength as they dig into your back and your hair.
>Instead of answering her, you start to lower her onto the bed before sliding on top of her.
>The moment you’re on her she wraps herself around you with what feels like practiced precision, the balls of her feet digging behind her knees as she pulls you onto her body.
>This time she doesn’t wait, and the moment you’re both on the bed you find an otter muzzle aggressively pressed against your lips and demanding entrance.
>Everything melts into heated moans and desperate gasps for air as she does her damnedest to make up for years of time as quickly as possibly. Eventually you find your arms wrapped underneath her elbows as you press in as close as possible.
>Sensing that she had been pinned, she immediately retaliates by grinding her crotch against yours, thick tail slapping back and forth against your legs every few moments.
>It’s only natural you do the same in kind, and eventually you both find a rhythm that works. Or, you thought it worked, until a clawed paw is pressing against your chest and pushing you off.
>You’re both short of breath, and it seems like Tinneal is worse off, but still she manages a few words. “Anon, wah-wait…clothes.”
>Oh right. You kind of got caught up there. When you began to sit up though, a pair of paws lashes out and catches the center hem of your shirt.
>With a growl of exertion and strength of a woman who wouldn’t be denied, buttons begin to pop as the otter beneath you rips your shirt open. She couldn’t get them all in one pull, but after a few desperate tries the last one flies off and she collapses back onto the bed with a look of satisfaction on her face.
>”I always wanted to do that.” She snickers. You laugh with her, discarding the now destroyed top to the floor before you starts wrestling with your pants.
>Immediately her face straightens up, and her eyes focus in on your hands are doing. Realizing that you’re about to make real yet another fantasy of hers, you slip out of her grip and stand at the foot of the bed.
>Any complaint she would make is silenced by the sound of your zipper dropping. Instead her eyes are staring dead at your crotch, and the paw that was on your back a moment ago as already found its way between her legs.
>Her fingers disappear underneath her panties as your pants fall to the floor, and you can tell she’s holding her breath.
>You aren’t too practiced at strip teases, but you wait until you see her fingers moving in her panties to start dropping your boxers.
>Your cock springs up now that it’s free, and you can -feel- your confidence smash through the roof when you hear a whispered “oh god” escape her mouth.
>As you slid back into bed, you’re stopped by a sticky paws on your stomach before you can get back into position.
>Her eyes catch yours when she whispers again, “Do you have condoms?” You can’t tell what answer she wants to hear, but you only have one for her.
>With as loving as smile as you can manage while this hard, you let her know. “I came here to make you my wife, didn’t I?”
>As the words hit her ears, you can feel her shiver underneath you, and she sucks in a breath before muttering a distracted “Yes…” Though you can’t tell if that was directed towards your question of an answer, or whether or not you just checked off another one of her countless fantasies.
>Well, you’ll ask about those after tonight. Or after this round, one of the two.
>Right now you instead focus on getting back to her muzzle, pressing in for another passionate kiss. Though the otter underneath you seems to be caught on the back foot, only able to moan and squirm rather than offer herself back into things.
>Instead of dry humping each other, she’s got both paws in between the both you, desperately trying to get to know your cock as you keep her mouth busy.
>Exploring fingers grip and stroke what they can get a grasp on, but before long she gets too frustrated. She manages to huff out a breathy “Wait” in a break for air, and you do your best to stop yourself
>Rather than wait herself to see if you comply,, she uses your distraction to fully shove you off of her.
>Grunting as you roll onto your back, she’s already moving on top of you.
>You can’t tell what she’s doing with that swimmer’s ass and tail in your face, as your vision becomes a sea of brown fur, a heavy tail, white stockings, and a pair of soaked panties just a touch too far for you to lean forward and get a taste of.
>That doesn’t mean you can’t feel what’s going on as a paw confidently wraps around the base of your dick. “I’ve been practicing on a toy,” you hear her coo, “But it was a smaller than this.” There is a lilt of excitement in those last few words.
>Before you can give an all clear, she angles your dick towards her muzzle and the tongue you’ve been playing with for the past few minutes traces from the middle of your shaft to the head.
>As you adjust to her testing licks, you can hear her talking to herself in between increasingly fervent licks. Things such as “so warm” and “way better than rubber” hit your ears, Tinneal more than delighted to explore your cock as she indulges her curiosity.
>While you were worried that she was going to treat your dick like one of her toys, she’s surprisingly careful with it, more in awe of actually holding the real deal than anything.
>All the while she is alternating between squeezing with her paw and giving you small strokes, making sure that even the parts of it she isn’t making out with are receiving some attention.
>If you had any curiosity as to what she was doing with her other paw, it slips into your vision from between her legs. As she’s playing with your dick, you’re treated to a show as she touches herself.
>The silhouette of her fingers dance underneath the material of her panties, just less than a foot away from your face.
>When you planned this night, this wasn’t what you thought would happen, but you can’t complain.
>Especially not when you reach up to tug on the tail tie of the lingerie, and it falls off helplessly onto your chest, giving you the perfect seat to watch the otter gets lost in the moment.
>No longer to content to simply taste your length, you fight back a shudder when the lips of her muzzle purse themselves against the head of your cock. With a moan from both Tinneal and yourself, you feel both tongue and teeth glide against your skin.
>At first she only bobs lightly, but she’s hungrier than she let on, and now that she has you where she’s been wanting you for years, she doesn’t bother waiting any longer than she has to.
>Each pass goes a little deeper, taking you further into her muzzle each time her head drops. It’s not long until she’s kissing up against the knuckles of her right paw.
>She’s so into what she’s doing she hardly notices that she’s long been exposed, and you’ve been watching the circles her fingertips have been drawing on her folds getting smaller and smaller.
>There is something to brace for here with how she’s winding herself up, and you do so by helping yourself to two handfuls of otter ass, which draws a pleased squeal from her followed by a hard suckle that milks most of your cock.
>As if you had finally given her permission to take it further by holding on, she releases the base of your dick and that paw digs right into your thighs.
>Before you can complain, she pushes down. And down, and further down. At the same time, you lean up at just the right moment to see a pair of slick fingers disappear into her cunt.
>Tinneal moans loudly, and you’re pretty sure she’s in her own world at the moment. Not that you’re better off, since whatever ‘practice’ she had been doing has you on cloud nine.
>For someone who didn’t know what to do when she was kissed, she knows damn well how to give a blow job. She’s keeping rhythm pretty well, her fingers pumping in and out of her slit in time with the motion of her muzzle
>You manage to groan out her name while squeezing your grip on her ass once more. Her tongue seems to have figured out your every weak spot, rolling against every sensitive spot that gets a twitch out of you on each pass.
>Hearing her name must like that must have let her know she had you exactly where she wanted, as she pulls her paw from between her legs to rest it on your thigh. It leaves you with a soaked hole to stare at, but you don’t get much time to enjoy the sights before she’s hungrily attacking your manhood.
>Padded fingers begin playing with your sack while her other paw is used to keep balance while she dives up and down your shaft.
>You began squirming underneath her, swearing at this point when she finally pulls herself off of you with an audible pop. Any frustration is misplaced however, when she starts giving you the most furious handjob you’ve ever received.
>You’re moments away from release with that lithe tongue of hers begins circling the head of your dick, followed by a heavy lipped kiss right on the tip that gives off a wet smack when she pulls away.
>That’s what does it, and you thrust upwards into spit slick hands as you let off a volley of cum.
>Much to Tinneal’s surprise it seems, as you hear her gasp before she doubles down on her hand job to see how long she can make this last.
>You imagine that there is a look of awe and rapt interest on her face at the moment as she watches each rope she squeezed out inches away from her face.
>Most of your jizz lands uselessly onto the sheets underneath you, since the otter manhandling your manhandle is pointing it away from herself. She seems to be enjoying the spectacle more than anything.
>Eventually you give off your last weak shot that is left oozing down your shaft. You give an involuntary shudder as you feel her tongue grace the sensitive skin once more, along with the sound of a thoughtful hum from the otter on top of you.
>”It’s sweeter than I thought it would be.” She says, thinking out loud.
>”Pineapple. So much pineapple.” You sigh in post-climax defeat, fighting the usual tiredness because this is far from over.
>”Oh. Oooooh.” Tinneal realizes as she sits up on top of you. “That explains that time I saw all those cans in your fridge, doesn’t it.”
>Your stomach shifts out of traumatized fear when she mentions the stockpile of canned diced pineapple that lived in your fridge for weeks. You had excused yourself from her probing at that time by saying it was a fad diet, but it did have a purpose. Even if you got very bored of having pineapples for dessert every few days.
>You give a weak nod, trying to catch your breath as she continues to piece things together. “Wait, just how long where you planning this?” She looks over her shoulder down at the exhausted man underneath her.
>”Long enough that I started to get used to the taste of pineapple on pizza.” This isn’t the sexiest pillow talk you’ve ever brought to the table, but you’ve got another few minutes before your brain’s back up generators turn on.
>Your hands wander over her rump softly, giving her a squeeze that earns you a squeak of surprise as you force yourself past the waterproof fur coat and give her a proper pinching, “Better question: when the hell did you learn to do that?”
>Tinneal gives a hesitant chuckle, and you can see her bite her lip before answering, “I told you, I practiced on my toys. I mean, toy.” The otter fidgets a bit, tapping her fingers together before realizing just how wet one of her paws were. “A normal dildo kinda isn’t the same as a human one, you know.”
>You nod along, remaining a touch skeptic that merely playing around with a rubber dick would turn a what is to your knowledge virgin into an expert in the field of giving head.
>Your face must show your doubt, and you know well Tin well enough to know when she’s blushing underneath that fur of hers
>”And, uh, I watched videos on it. SOME WERE ALL EDUCATIONAL AND STUFF, THEY WERE ON YOUTUBE!” She answers anxiously, as if trying to prove her innocence.
>Unfortunately she just gave you an easy way to lay on the pressure.
>”Okay, that’s some. And the rest?” You do you best to put on a reassuring smile to let her know she’s not in any actual trouble. You’re just really curious as to how she managed to give you some of the best head you’ve had in a long time.
>Even with your reassurance, she barely manages to whisper out an answer, only saying a few words. All you manage to catch is the word ‘my birthday’ before she starts to squirm once more.
>”What?” You ask.
>There is a huff of despair and she speaks up. “On my seventeenth birthday, mom bought me a subscription to that TAMED website. And I think that blowjobs are just really hot, so I watch them a lot.”
>Things finally made sense as to why she calmed down around that time. It wasn’t some sort of miracle of hormones balancing out, but being able to live vicariously through anthro pornstars banging or being banged by humans in front of a camera that did the trick.
>Once again you find yourself nodding, but being questioned like this seems to have deflated her.
>”I just wanted to make sure I knew how to do it, cuz I wanted you to like it as much as I do.” She mumbles.
>You bring her back to life with another pinch, getting yet another squeal, “Hey! Stop that. It hurts.” The otter complains, but she only finds you smiling, even fighting back a laugh.
>”Tin, if I knew you could do things like that I probably would have broken down a long time ago.” You say.
>Hearing your words causes her face to light up, “Really?! I knew I should have gone with that plan to try and seduce you. There was this one video where this fox lady is a human guy’s student, and she won’t pass the class normally, so she has to blow her teacher under his desk during a lesson, and…”
>As she begins to rattle off a play by play description of a TAMED video that from her enthusiasm must be one of her favorites, you interrupt her during the part where she begins to wonder how they managed to fit two cameras and a top heavy vixen underneath a desk by returning the favor from before, and roll her off of you.
>She lets out a “Hey!’ followed by an “Owww,” likely from landing on her tail, but she sits up almost immediately when she remembers that you were here for more than a surprisingly skillful blowjob.
>She brushes her hair to the side while biting her lip, her other paw balling into a fist, “Are we…gonna do it now?”
>You shake your head, trying not to come off as too exhausted, “Oh no. I am just a regular guy, Tin. I don’t have porn magic on my side, so we’re gonna have to wait a bit for my round two.”
>Tinneal looks obviously disappointed by the reality of the situation, and her face drops. You’re there to make things better when you lean in to nibble at her chin, “But we have all night, and I think I owe my darling wife to return the favor.”
>It takes her a moment to realize what you’re getting at, but you can see the exact moment it all clicks when she gasps, her tail slapping against the bed while the fur on her neck and shoulders begins to stand up.
>”Wait, you’re going to--?! Oh my god!” Tin sounds like she has lost it as she scrambles up to the head board and shoves a few pillows underneath her head before spreading her legs cunt, fingers already spreading her folds as she presents herself.
>”Okay, okay. I’m ready. Come and get me, lover dear~” She sings those last few words, and you are a little stunned by the display.
>Even then, it’s not even the sheer lewdness of the act that’s really getting you at the moment. It’s the little things, like how she’s gnawing on her knuckles as she waits for you to no doubt dive in between her legs like some starved beast.
>Or how her toes are already curling, catching the bed sheets underneath while her chest is heaving with bated breath.
>Just how many times has she imagined this scene before? You are starting to wonder if you can keep step with the version of you in her dreams, with the way she’s working herself up from across the bed.
>”First of all,” the sound of your voice causes her to jolt, pulling her out of that wild imagination of hers, “You need.” You start crawling your way over while you talk, each sentence lowering in volume as you approach, “To calm.” By now you’re hovering over her, leaning in as you close in for the kill, “Down.”
>Your whispers are right against her lips, and you can’t ignore the fact that at some point she started holding her breath again. All that energy she had a few moments ago was blown out, and now she’s wide eyed, staring up at you and unsure of what’s about to happen.
>Of course you kiss her. What kind of husband would you be to miss on a such an intimate moment?
>The moment your lips lock, Tin lets a needy moan roll through the kiss as her back arches up off the bed.
>Eyes are closed as the pair of you once more become wrapped up against each other. It starts slow, but you don’t need to lead her along nearly as much as before. She latches onto your back, but you let your hands wander, creeping underneath her lingerie and helping yourself to handfuls of soft flesh with sensitive peaks to be pinched between your fingers.
>All the while she was desperately grinding up against you, demanding your second wind as soon as possible. Eventually the wet friction just becomes part of the blurred mass of sensory information, and occasionally you manage to push back against her at the right moment that makes her dig her claws into your skin.
>The first time you did this was just setting the mood, but right now, if your second wind creeps in before she lets go, you probably end up skipping any more foreplay and dive right into consummating this ‘marriage’ proper like.
>You don’t think Tinneal would complain, as she becomes increasingly vocal with every breath she manages to get in this embrace. It all sounds desperate, whether she’s lovingly repeating your name or a plaintive “Please” or “No” whenever you break a kiss too early for her tastes.
>The both of you become aware of your returning erection at the same time, when it gets a long draw against her slit that makes the both of you groan.
>Her paws are too busy digging into your back and shoulder to push you away, but eventually she interrupts you with a soft headbutt, rubbing your forehead to hers.
>”Anon…can you…?” She murmurs, stopping as she searches to find the right words to describe what she wants from you. It must be difficult to think straight when grinding her body against the man of her dreams.
>It takes her a some time to gather herself, trying to calm down and sort her thoughts. All the while the only sound in the room, if not the whole home, is the both of you trying to catch your breath.
>You’re willing to wait. You made her wait for at least two years, assuming this wasn’t love at first sight when she moved her six years ago.
>When she recovers, her paws start pressing down your shoulders. She doesn’t say anything, and you don’t need her to.
>You start making your way down her body, leaving a trail of kisses as you make your way south over her toned body.
>There is an odd satisfaction to be had with how she shivers at just a touch, and by the time you’re past her stomach you can feel her trembling under you.
>Both of her paws begin pushing down on your head, as if she was afraid you would stop so close to your mutual goal.
>She doesn’t know what to do with her lower half, either. If you weren’t just about laying on it her tail would be going wild, and her stocking clad legs are alternating between spreading as far out as she could comfortably manage and draping themselves over your back.
>What you didn’t expect was what hit your nose. Otter fur must be something special, because before this Tinneal simply smelled like her normal self. You knew she was wet from how soaked your crotch was at this point, but you weren’t expecting it to be this…thorough?
>The moment you crossed the threshold and your head was between her legs you honestly had to reel back for a moment just out of how hard the scent of arousal hit you.
>Between her thighs, on the base of her tail, and down on the sheets underneath was nothing but a puddle of desperate arousal. Less patient women would have made a point to have their needs addressed before they permanently ruin a set of sheets.
>You don’t know if it’s either inexperience or Tinneal being too caught up in things, but you’re not surprise she held out this long. She had the patience of a monk to have put up with your rules for this long only for you to reward her dedication at the eleventh hour.
>A scared otter whimpers from above, “Is something wrong, Anon?”
>”Yeah,” You answer, causing her to stir.
>”W-what is it?” Her voice is a cross of panic and worry.
>”I’m a terrible husband.” You say plainly, reaffirming a steady grip on her before pressing inwards.
>”Wha- oh shit!” Tinneal’s lower body jolts in reaction to your tongue introducing itself to her folds, tracing from top to bottom.
>For the moment you dedicate to getting to know your lover’s sex. The poor thing is so wet that you can’t help but glide across her mound, despite your best efforts to get some firmer friction in.
>She’s not making it easy for you either. If you weren’t pinning her tail underneath you and keeping both hands firmly dug into her fur she would have pushed herself away with how hard she jumps at the sensation of your tongue hitting home.
>It takes some time for her to adjust, and instead of simply letting her body do what it pleased she begins forcing her crotch against your mouth, urging you to go further.
>You comply, and by sheer perseverance you manage to wick away the layer of otter arousal. Your first proper lap against her entrance makes her shake, and earns you a shrill ‘oh god’ from somewhere in the pile of pillows near the head board.
>She instinctively locks her legs around your head when you pull yourself closer, the soft silk of her stockings on your back standing in distinct contrast to the dense, slick fur flanking the sides of your face.
>That won’t work with what you want to do. You take hold of one of her thighs, lifting it just enough to give you some room to play with. Tinneal offers a breathless apology, but you don’t mind as you bring your other hand in, and treat yourself to the familiar sight of her folds being spread wide.
>Time to put that education training to work. First you start with ‘A,’ up, down, then across. Then ‘B,’ straight down before looping twice back upwards. ‘C’, a long arc to the left that ends just below where it began.
>Though this is mostly just for your own reference. Tin is too busy alternating between heated moans, your name, and obscenities you normally would scold her for to realize that you’re drawing letters in her pussy with your tongue.
>You work through the alphabet through process of elimination, occasionally doubling back to previous letters to see if you would get the same reaction twice, so see what got the best results.
>Eventually you settle on the proud ‘H,’ teasing along the sides of her spread sex before deliberately dragging your tongue across her entrance. Each time would earn you an a lurid sound of approval followed by her free leg doing its best to pull you in closer.
>Her toes curled and clawed into your back in time with your tonguework, and the paw that was holding onto your hair was now clutching a fistful of blankets as Tinneal whined and hissed through clenched teeth.
>She wasn’t even speaking words at this point, every sound passing through her lips guttural as she focused solely on trying to make this last while also letting herself enjoy it.
>You did your best to help with both of those things. After all, this was your wedding night. It would be unbecoming of you to just rush to the end.
>Whenever she got too excited and began to throw herself into your face, you decide that maybe you should explore your options here.
>There is a whine of complaint when she becomes aware that you have stopped eating her out, but your exploring fingers qualify as an acceptable substitute.
>By doing your best to mimic what she was doing to herself earlier as you begin to roll over you keep the otter squirming as your fingertips follow her example.
>It’s even easier with how wet she is, circling around until she starts tensing up and bracing herself from the sheer muscle memory as you approach the crux of your plagiarized act.
>At first she takes a breath, but as your fingers start to sink in she lets all that air right back out in a crooning moan that lifts her back off of the bed before she melts back onto it.
>She had braced for it, but now she was savoring every joint of your fingers with a squeeze before letting it pass further on. With one deliberate, if staggered, push you’re up to your knuckles in Tinneal and she doesn’t waste a single second before she starts humping up against your hand.
>For someone who is leaving a small puddle in these sheets, her need has got her burning up to the point that you’re struck by the illogical worry that she’ll dry your hand out before you get her off.
>What pulls you from the moment of glib is a pair of paws latching onto you. She grabs you by the wrist as if she was afraid you would stop as soon as you start, but the other is petting the back of your head.
>”Hubby,” she forces her words out in the same breath as groan, doing her best to enjoy this while also trying to communicate.
>You look up at Tin as she calls for you, and when you make eye contact the otter immediately grins and giggles.
>”Your face is all wet.” She titters.
>Well, she isn’t wrong. If you had to guess, it probably looks like you just splashed water over your mouth and chin.
>Doesn’t smell much like water, though. A touch stickier, too. And while you’re sure you’re due for a round of mouthwash, you aren’t in a hurry to wipe yourself clean barring making sure you don’t leave a trail when you talk.
>You award her observation by curling your fingers upwards and then dragging them back, which causes her to shudder before she’s arching up again as she rides the length of the motion.
>It also gets you a head’s worth of otter claws digging into your hair as she cries out, followed a the grunt of an interrupted breath as you push back inwards.
>”Nng h-hey! I’m trying to talk he-eeernnn~” She can’t stay coherent as you begin to properly finger bang her, trailing off from actual words when they turn into moans.
>It takes some effort to pull free from her gripping walls, but the satisfying schlick of the return stroke makes it worth it.
>You pull yourself up the bed some length, certain that you can finish the job with what you left between her legs.
>Tinneal doesn’t offer any protest as you wrap your free arm underneath her, holding her steady as you lay your head on her chest.
>Your gaze stays southward, watching her entire lower half jump and writhe as you toy with her.
>As your explore and test out where to poke and prod for the best results, she shifts about as well.
>The paw that was gripping your wrist is now holding her leg up by the thigh, and she’s got her nails dug into one of your shoulders for support as she lays partially on her side.
>Your efforts are getting somewhere, or at least you can be more accurate. Pressed up against each other, you can feel the difference between her simply gyrating in a bid to somehow get you in further and when you’ve chanced upon a particularly sensitive nerve that makes her gasp and tense up from the sensation.
>Tin gets with the program quickly enough, trying her best guide you to every single sweet spot of hers she knows of with lust addled clues. It doesn’t help much, but every distracted ‘yes,’ ‘almost,’ and involuntary shudder helps to steer you in the right direction.
>You brush against an area that’s been giving you some level of success in making this otter shake, and suddenly her legs shoot out straight as she shrieks while squeezing you close.
>Found it, you think to yourself with smug satisfaction.
>Your hand is immediately coated with a layer of otter femcum, but when the contractions don’t last for more than a few seconds you know had only given her a small orgasm.
>Tinneal doesn’t share this same immediate happiness, taking by surprise by both your discovery and her partial climax. “Oh god, Anon - Wait wait wa-nnnn that’s meeeeaaan!” It’s the best insult she can manage as you start rocking your fingers back and forth..
>It takes a few moments of retracing your ‘steps’, but after some cursory exploration and a hissed ‘fuck’ from Tin you both understand that you’ve found her g-spot again.
>Instead of complaining further, she adapts and braces for it. Both arms wrap around you, burying you into her furry chest as she tries to catch her breath. With nothing to prop it up, she instead wraps her leg up around yours.
>It gives you free access to her slit, and if you were a foot or so higher up on this bed you would be lined up to fuck her right then and there.
>It’s a bit hard to think about logistics when their was a horny teenage otter fucking herself with your hand though. You didn’t even have to move at all; if you kept steady enough she would probably hump herself into an orgasm in this position.
>That wouldn’t do though. Not for you and not for her. After indulging herself for a moment, she starts to slow down. You’re given an awkward hug that turns into a wrestling clinch as she braces herself against you.
>”Okay,” she whimpers, “Now Anon.”
>Anything more would have been a waste of words. Your fingertips pushed in towards their mark, her claws a reference to how quickly you were closing in.
>At first she gasped as you slid against her g-spot, somewhat acclimated since she was expecting it this time. It rose in volume and became a throaty groan as you pressed back against her warm walls to check.
>And then you went in for the kill.
>Up, then down.
>Digging in, and then easing off.
>It was like flicking a switch on and off, but instead of messing with any light bulbs you were causing your young lover to convulse with a surge of pleasure.
>That groaning became became unhindered moans as your abuse of her inner walls continued.
>You felt the familiar surge of warm liquid against the back of your hand as she began to shriek and scream your name with desperate pleas for you to keep going.
>So you pressed your fingertips in, and rolled them in a circle right on top of that bundle of nerves.
>The reaction you first recognized was the choked grunt from above your head, having caught her mid-exhale when you zeroed in. Then the gasp. 
>From the sound of it, it was both for air and realization that she just crossed over her limit.
>After that was the shudder, that started at her chest before travelling downwards. You could only follow along its path due to how close you were, but you still didn’t expect what happened when it finally reached her hips.
>She clamped down on your hand, and you learned right there that her premature orgasm from earlier was just a hint of what really happened.
>There was a whimper, and immediately afterward you could feel your hand, crotch, and thighs become coated with a femcum as she clamped down on the pair of intruders within her.
>You soldiered on despite this, abandoning her g-spot to simply jam your fingers back and forth without direction. This was the first orgasm you had given her personally, her fantasies about you be damned. You were going to make this one last.
>Tin is silent at this point, excluding a few strained grunts and groans when you look up to see the damage you caused while her contracting walls trying their damnedest to cut your fingers off at the knuckle and keep them as a prize.
>What you see is Tinneal biting on her lower lip, huffing out of her nose while her deep blue gaze is partially rolled up behind half open eyelids. You watch her eyes close fully as she moans and pulls you close, legs stretching out and pulling back in as things slow down.
>Eventually she quiets down while her body relaxes. The only sign of life in the room now is your breathing, and the satisfied coos of a pleased otter humming out above your head.
>You might have to wait for her to return from her mental vacation, because even after pulling your hand free from that soaking wet vice grip she reacts with an upset groan and squeezing you in her arms.
>Which gives you some time to wonder where the hell the nearest towel is. This is the first time you think the phrase ‘came buckets’ applies literally, because Tin just ruined these sheets for good.
>Your leg has some warm traces, but your hand took the blunt of the splatter since it was right there in the action.
>Wriggling your fingers a bit confirms the fact that your hand has a pretty generous coating.
>It must not be a subtle inspection, because as you hold your hand up to get a better look you hear a quiet whisper, “Sorry, Anon. I’m a bit messy.”
>From a glance upwards you see that Tinneal has came back to Earth, and she’s wearing a worried frown.
>You click your tongue, and pull yourself up along her body.
>You stop are her neck, nuzzling into it and causing to her to let out a trill of delight. It also has the benefits of giving you something to wipe your face on. “Tin, I don’t care at all.” You say, muffled by fur.
>”A-are you sure it’s not weird? Not even by the fact that I’m not a real virgin, either?” You pull yourself from the crook of her collarbone and find yourself looking face to face with an otter who is moments away from having a breakdown.
>”What.” This isn’t something you expected to talk about tonight.
>She looks away, embarrassed and ashamed, “This is supposed to be a special night, and I wasted it on some dildo.” Her voice is quiet.
>You just take a deep breath and shake your head. You really aren’t surprised that a teenage girl with a subscription to a cross species porn site couldn’t wait two years. Still, when you started planning for tonight popping her cherry wasn’t something you were actually looking forward to.
>”Tin, this is the most non-problem problem we could have tonight.” You assure her. “Traditional first times suck. Like, a lot. It’s scary, it hurts, it’s slow. Not exactly good material for a wedding night, you know.”
>Tin gives a sigh of relief as you move up to her face, and start up one of those nose rubs that she so delights in. At first she resists, but then goes along with it with a snicker. “All that tells me is that I need to better than whatever rubber thing you’ve got stashed away in here. I think I can do that.” You say with confidence, looking her right in the eyes as you pull away from her wet nose.
>She’s wearing a bashful smile when you do so, and when you smile back she pushes in for a kiss.
>It’s passionate but subdued and short, the otter doing her best to be sensual when she drags away nibbling on your lower lip.
>”So hubby,” she whispers, keeping you close, “Before you put that toy to shame, I want to know…”
>You tilt your head as she continues. The otter has a mischievous grin on her face, and the kind of glint in her eyes that she would have before stealing a kiss. “How long are you going to make me wait before you put a few pups in me?”
>The question makes you blink, and you can’t help but laugh. More at your own surprise than the question. This is the same Tinneal who considered the both of you married for two years now. Of course she was already thinking about starting a family.
>Cross species pregnancies were a shot in the dark for any pairing. There was always a chance, but the severe mismatch of genetic information would have your swimmers ignoring any non-human egg even during the crux of a seasonal breeding heat.
>Thankfully for hopefuls such as Tinneal, there were some options to make her womb more receptive to your seed. All your kids would be otters, but they would still undeniably be yours.
>Your kids might end up being the cutest thing on the planet too, but your role in this relationship was to be the responsible one.
>There were no breeding pills involved with tonight’s ‘gift.’ You also wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself if you sent your young love off to college with a bun in the oven.
>Not that you hadn’t at least perused the subject while lingerie shopping.
>”Don’t get mad at me,” you start, immediately causing her face to curl into a frustrated pout when she realizes where this is going, “but we can’t do that right now.”
>Tinneal rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I bet you’re going to make me wait anot-” You shush her by putting a (dry) finger to her lips.
>”Yeah, you have to wait. I have another school year on my contract with City Habitat.” You explain. She doesn’t say anything, and judging from her face is starting to become a touch grumpy.
>Fortunately, you’ve been sitting on a line that’ll turn her right back around. Leaning into her ear, you put on the sexiest growl you can manage, “But when that contract ends, I’m going to show up to your dorm with a cradle, an armful of towels, and a bottle of breeding pills.”
>>Tinneal immediately shudders at your words, and you can hear her swallow before taking unsteady breaths. Not that you’re done just yet.
>As you start listing those things up, your arm shifts up under the leg she has hooked around you to lift it up further. With the new room you shift forward, and for the first time since you undressed you’re back to grinding against each other.
>Your little promise got you a ready to go as well, and there is a hiccup from the otter as your cock grinds up against her soaked quim. In an instant she wraps her arms around you as if she was about to fall, and you let her writhe as you begin to use her own arousal as lube for what’s next.
>After a few strokes of you running your dick back and forth Tinneal is already fighting moans as she grinds right back up against you. “Gotta -hn- get it covered,” she instructs either you or herself, before mumbling heatedly, “Whyisitsohooot…
>Taking hold of her lace covered leg just below the knee, you adjust your angle and come in for a particularly forceful thrust that makes the otter yelp, then grind her teeth as she tries to keep it from happening again when you do it again for a second and third time.
>”Waaait,” she pants, “I’m still - guh-!” Another forceful thrust interrupts her, and she consigns herself to the way you’re manhandling her by resting her head on your shoulder while doing her best to rock her hips in time with yours.
>You weren’t aiming for this originally, but if the choked gasps on your shoulder are any sign to go by then you would be doing her a disservice by stopping.
>Four becomes five becomes ten. You are most definitely counting these, each buck of your hips plucks another sound from the helpless Tinneal.
>You hit your dozenth thrust, and get exactly what you were aiming for as the person wrapped around you grinds her teeth together, muffling a hoarse moan to keep from screaming in your ear. Her tail kicks up as her entirely body shakes, and your dick earns a coating of otter femcum for its service.
>That’ll do just fine for lube, you think to yourself. 
>The otter heaving hot air and out-of-breath swear words into your ears could probably use a break after having another orgasm so close to the last, so you roll her onto her back before sitting up.
>Tinneal has other ideas and rolls onto her stomach, haphazardly stuffing a few pillows underneath her stomach as she props herself up.
>With a grunt of effort she manages to make her tail stand up slightly, and for the second time tonight she’s put herself on display for you.
>Earlier it had the appearance of a pristine young lady trying her best to be sexy.
>Now, with the fur of her thighs and crotch practically glistening, you find yourself staring as she exposes everything under her tail while propping herself up on her knees.
>”No more waiting, Anon,” she says, breath ragged as she tries to catch it, “Make me your wife already.”
>You don’t know what to say to that. Tinneal only smiles back at you, lazily waving her tail back and forth to beckon you closer.
>When you do so you fall in close, sidling up behind her to the point where your cock is sliding up between her ass cheeks and bumping against the base of her thick tail.
>There is a satisfied hum from the other end of the otter, and you see her squeeze the pillow she’s resting her head on when she looks back at you.
>She has a grin on her face that she usually wears when she is trying to get a rise out of you, and she sticks her tongue out. “Let’s see if I can make you a daddy as well as a husband.”
>”That’s for next year.” You playfully remind her as you lean back, using your already slick hand to guide the head of your cock towards that dripping slit.
>”Not if I get lucky,” Tinneal coos, before huffing and grabbing a handful of pillow when she feels your searching for your target. “Now gimme.” She demands, leaving no room to argue as she rolls her hips back into yours in a hungry attempt to beat you to the punch.
>No dice, and you grab her by the waist as you start to close in. You hear her giggle in anticipation, but it turns into a yelp once you start to find purchase against her cunt.
>You both brace yourselves and then groan in unison as the first few inches of your shaft make their way in. Tinneal isn’t able to hold her tail up anymore, and it limply lands on your shoulder cradled in between your chest and the arm holding her waist.
>If you thought she felt warm on your fingers, it feels like an oven around your cock. A very slick oven hellbent on milking you dry, as each excited heartbeat the otter has squeezes down on your length before letting you in further.
>”Nnngff Anon gimme~” She repeats herself, but this time it sounds more like a whimper, and it’s muffled by the pillow she’s biting down on. Not that it means you won’t oblige her.
>Your hold shifts as you bring your second hand onto her waist, and she shudders as you flex your grip on her lithe body. Everything is smooth sailing and wet mustelids until you are suddenly forced to slow down when Tinneal clamps down and whimpers, “S-slow down!”
>It seems you’ve reached unexplored territory, and you take things slow as you close in on hilting against her hips. Dragging yourself backwards, and earning yourself a grateful moan in the process, you go for a second take.
>The whole time you watch Tinneal’s reaction from behind, from the way she groans then bites her lip at first to the when she furrows her brow as her fingers splay out when you start getting deeper. Every pleading “More~” she speaks goes straight to your dick.
>By the fourth attempt you finally are grinding up against her ass, and you can’t tell if she’s relieved or disappointed that you’ve run out of dick. Well, on closer inspection it seems like she’s trying to process something being that deep in her, mouth slightly open as she rests her head on the pillow.
>You run a hand along the small of her back before petting the tail resting on your chest. “Better than some toy, right?” You tease, and you can see her smile down there.
>”Nothing is better than making love to my husband.” Tinneal says quietly, closing her eyes when she starts to rock back against you. She doesn’t do much though, having to move slowly to avoid overwhelming herself in her attempt to savor everything you have to offer. “Nothing.” She repeats, groaning with passionate sincerity.
>Suddenly you find yourself coughing, and you try to swallow down the lump in throat that just came out of nowhere.
>You slide your hand down to the base of her tail, and use it as a handle to pull her back. She rolls with it, and holds still as you start to rear your hips back. You focus on slow circles, rolling in and out by only a few inches.
>She can’t get enough, and finds your rhythm after a while only to move a touch faster. You find yourself speeding up to match her, only for her to once again to up the tempo just slightly.
>It’s unclear whether or not she’s doing this on purpose, especially because neither of you are talking. You’re both trying to savor this, but within a few minutes what had started as a calm, rocking pace has you sawing in and out of her cunt as she urges you to keep going with her both with body language and half muffled gasps of pleasure.
>Tinneal breaks the silence first as she shoves her body back against you, saying a single word in request.
>”Deeper.”
>While you don’t have any extra inches of dick hidden somewhere, you’ve do have a trick or two. This whole time you haven’t left her empty since you started, but when you start to pull back and don’t immediately slid right back in it causes the otter to whine in concern.
>When you get past the halfway point, you pull one of her legs back a bit while the other presses down on the middle of her back. She grunts as she readjusts, angling herself higher against you while she looks over her shoulder.
>The perfect opportunity to seize. Using her tail to stay steady, you practically fall back into her. With the new angle, your cock grinds all the way down her walls while you watch as she collapses right back into her pillow, and you swear you saw her eyes roll back just then.
>Her moan of pleasure goes unmasked with how she was facing, and they stay that way for awhile as you start to drill her properly. Long pull outs followed with a heavy thrust that reclaims every inch in one stroke.
>Every time you land home, Tinneal’s entire body recoils as if she is having trouble keeping her balance despite her face and chest being firmly planted against the bed.
>She can’t force you to change what you’re doing this time, being at your complete mercy as she claws into the sheets. What she can do, however, is scream.
>”Faster!”
>At this point you’re sweating, but you’ve made her wait so long for this that denying her is not on the table.
>You stop pulling out so far, and start time hammering her toned rear with your hips. Both hands grab onto her waist, and her bedroom fills with the wet, slapping sound of a husband attending to his wife’s needs.
>She doesn’t simply sit there either; without you holding her in place with her tail she braces herself with her paws and is throwing herself at you. It’s reckless at first, blinded by the heat of the moment
>Eventually, as you both try to meet halfway in your movements, a pace that works with your diminishing stamina and her lust is ironed out. Not that it doesn’t look or sound like you’re not piledriving this otter into the bed like a man possessed.
>Tinneal gives out first, and you feel her clench and squeeze down on your length, followed by the now expected gush that paints your thighs. It’s only after this does she managed a anguished squeal in between the thrusts that keep knocking the wind out of her.
>You give her a few more good ones that has her writhing underneath you, near breathless as she can do nothing but ride both you and her orgasm out. You’re determined not to lose that contest, so it’s for the best that Tinneal is off on another planet with her back to you.
>With how you’re gritting you’re teeth and hissing for air you are not the most attractive individual at the moment. Not that it matters; you’re in full stud mode and the only thing important is the pretty thing you’re buried in.
>Something that she unknowingly plays to when she calls for you. “A-no-oo-n~” Tinneal groans. You only grunt in response, but that’s enough. “Make me yours!” She screams now that she knows you’re listening.
>Your hips drive forward one last time and don’t come back. With what sounds like both a sigh and a growl you let loose, and you can practically feel each individual volley fire off within her.
>Tinneal jerks up immediately when the first rope lands in her, and shudders for each one that follows as she pushes herself back against you. “So hot.” It’s the only thing she has or can even manage to say as you fill her.
>Unlike her lengthy (and messy) climaxes, yours are much more compact. Without much fanfare, you find yourself panting for breath as you come back to your senses.
>You need a break, and without much left in the tank at the moment you find yourself sliding forward. Tinneal accommodates to the best of her abilities, relaxing her stance as her tail falls to your side.
>There is a tired grunt from the both of you as you unceremoniously pull out in the process. You suppose in a bit you might have to take a peek at your handiwork, but you are beat at the moment.
>Once you’re laying on her back you wrap your arms around her. As you do, you nuzzle into the back of her neck with a sigh. You hadn’t laid it down like that in God knows how long.
>She giggles during your approach, and you feel her wiggle her feet besides yours. Neither of you speak for a length of time, simply resting against each other and enjoying a well deserved afterglow.
>There is a slight shuffle underneath you as Tinneal tries to find your hands, and the moment she does her fingers intertwine with yours. You answer the squeeze she gives you with one of your own, and she lets off a happy sigh.
>As the both of you catch your breath together, you spend your time idly running your thumb over hers. Eventually you have to say something, and you find yourself rubbing against her cheek to cheek. ”Tin, hun.”
>”Hm?” She hums, her voice placid and pleased as her breathing starts to calm down.
>”You know that this isn’t how becoming mates works for humans, right?” You ask, half curious and half teasing. “There is more to it than just having someone you prefer to have sex with.”
>There is a groan of irritation from the otter, and she rolls onto her side to nibble at your chin. “I know, but that’s all the boring parts. I know you’ll help me with the paperwork. That’s what you’ve done for years now.” She says, before her normal smile returns, “What I am interested in is a ring. Do we have to wait to do that weird ceremony before I get one of those?”
>You find yourself rubbing your forehead at the idea. On the one hand, you were already saving money since as far as Tinneal and most anthros were concerned you had made things official tonight. That meant you could skip on the ceremony, and just head over to the county office tomorrow to get things sorted out.
>Doesn’t mean that buying a ring is going to be cheap. Though right you have more immediate concerns right now like the otter licking at your neck, her moment of glib about getting a ring already passing as the licks turn into chaste kisses on your skin.
>You intercept one, and Tinneal gives off a squeal of delight as you press her into the mattress when the kiss deepens. When it breaks, you can feel her heart beating fast against you. “Again?” You ask.
>”Again?!” She squeaks, either excited or terrified. Most likely a combination of both, really. While she doesn’t let go of one of your hands, in an instant she has a knuckle in between her teeth as she considers her answer.
>”It’s our wedding night, Tin. We can stop at one if you want though.” Technically the score is at her three to your two, but that doesn’t make for as convincing of a tease. You grin as her eyes go wide at your suggestion to call it a night early.
>”What?! No!” She wraps her arms around your neck and pulls you in, giving you a toothed grin, “Gimme gimme, hubby. We’re not done yet.”
>You laugh, and as you dive into her lips for another kiss you wonder if her mother stocked the fridge downstairs with sports drinks like you asked.


----

>It’s been two months since your wedding night, and almost just as long since you stood in front of a county worker who declared you and the bouncing otter hanging onto your arm at the time officially married.
>You find yourself playing with the gold band on your ring finger more than you’d like. It’s something Tinneal, now Tinneal Ymous, insisted on after you left the courthouse. Nothing fancy, just a pair of bands for the both of you, but it delighted her to put yours on, and she could hardly sit still long enough for you to slip it onto her finger. 
>You haven’t taken it off since then, and even over the past few weeks you haven’t gotten used to its weight on your hand.
>Occasionally your new mother-in-law drops by with dinner to make sure you’re eating properly, since you have a tendency to skip meals when you get too focused on work.
>As such, you’ve started to develop a proper, discerning palate to all things seafood related. You’re finding yourself partial to a good salmon, but you’ll drop anything you had planned whenever you’re invited over for a steam pot night.
>Even thinking about the mountain of shellfish and sausage is getting you hungry, and you leave your place to head over to the property cafeteria.
>You’re intercepted by your mother-in-law walking up to your door as you open it. who smiles when she spots you before pointing behind her.
>Sure enough, there is Tinneal stepping out of the car and the moment she notices you standing there she forgets whatever she was pulling out of the backseat and comes running.
>Holding your hands out, you wrap your arms around her as she jumps into your embrace. “Hubby!”
>”Hey cute thing. Shouldn’t you be on the other side of the state right now?” You ask out of curiosity, but you can’t complain about the barrage of kisses covering your face.
>”They had to do construction work on my dorm, and the semester hasn’t started yet, so I’m spending the rest of summer back home.” Tinneal quickly explains so she can get back to smothering you. “And mom said I should be staying with you anyways, so we’ll get my stuff later tonight.”
>She’s bouncing as she explains the second part. Clearly, she’s excited to be moving in. You suppose you better get used to having some hot and wet summer nights until school starts again.
>”And something else important came up, which is why I brought her right over when we got back.” Her mother chimes in, a wizened smile on her face. It looked eerily similar to the smile you put on her face when you asked her and her husband if you could have a ‘wedding night’ with their daughter.
>Tinneal looks back to her mother, and then back to you, before checking with her mom one more time.
>The older otter nods. “Go ahead, tell him.”
>Tinneal titters for a bit, wiggling as she leans into your ear to whisper something that makes your heart skip a beat.
>You are Anon, the husband to an otter who’s energy is only matched by her patience.
>And due to your actions two months ago you are now also Anon, the new expecting father.