When he was a puppy, Stan used to love trains. His favorite toys were his model steam engines which he could push along the little wooden tracks.

He didn’t love them so much anymore. Ten hours on public transport every weekend will do that to you. Now that he’d moved away from home for his first year in college, his weeks were punctuated by these swathes of monotony. Although he was savvy enough to know that his life wouldn’t turn into a romcom once he turned 18, he’d been hoping for a little more excitement on his Friday nights. Still, he’d found ways to pass the time.

The orange fox was set up in his usual seat. With only a few hours’ notice, he was going down to a meeting for the arts festival he volunteered for. The blizzard splattered against the window from all directions as the train pulled out of the station. He used to think trains shot out of the station with purpose and billowing steam. Really, they just glided off as if they’d gotten bored of hanging around.

With a new document open on his laptop, he placed a book on his lap to conceal himself and inconspicuously glanced over his shoulder to make sure nobody could see the screen. Writing smut on the train was always a bit of a thrill. There was nobody sitting at his table, but it wasn’t as if the carriage was empty.

A few stops later, Stan was distracted by a screech, kind of like the sound that Beaker used to make. Beaker was this kid he knew back in middle school, and since he was a parrot, he was obviously pretty good at impressions. He’d scream the word ass in a different voice so that another kid would get in trouble. It didn’t take long for him to get found out and be sent to the principal’s office, where you’re presumably allowed to scream ass all you want.

It wasn’t ass-screaming Beaker, though. It was a red fox in a wet white t-shirt. She had a nose stud, and her shorts had a brand printed on the butt, which was probably a form of ass-screaming. Adjusting her backpack, she toyed with her blonde highlights as she scanned the carriage for the best seat.

She crossed her arms over her chest, conscious of the soaked, semi-transparent fabric. Looking without looking, Stan could make out the matted fur of her breasts. He might put that in the story.

The girl turned on him. To him, that is to say.

“Oh my God,” she said. “This is the worst trip ever. Did you see the snow out there?”

She was talking to him. Stan was alarmed by this, and not in an entirely pleasant way. It was rare that any attractive girl talked to him on the train, let alone when he was in the middle of something. But she most definitely was talking to him. He could almost see her lining him up in her crosshairs.

“It’s pretty bad,” he attempted.

“I’m going down to Tango City?”

Stan chuckled a bit. “You said that like a question.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know. I don’t mind, obviously. Don’t worry. I hear it’s actually called Uptalk.”

“Really?” she said. “I never knew that.”

“Nothing much, what’s up with you?” said Stan. The joke hadn’t worked, but that wasn’t going to stop him, and she was laughing anyway. She put her bag under the table and sat down opposite Stan. It was a careful sit, with her knees angled together and her heels turned out. This was the perky sitting pose of someone used to being the most adorable in the room. Her bag was covered in polka-dots with smiley faces in marker.

Stan excused himself to go to the bathroom and generally pull himself together. He clicked over to the web browser and shut his laptop lid before ambling off.

Nicole had received enough furtive glances in her life to know when someone was checking her out. And while she hadn’t actually seen Stan’s boner, she knew full well why he had a book on his lap. Once he was out of the carriage, she quickly spun his laptop around and opened it up. Nothing in any of the tabs, but- no, there was something here.

Just then, with her legs pressed around his thigh, her heat pressed against his bare fur. Just the sensation of her naked body pressed to his was enough for his breath to hitch in the back of his throat. He could feel her wet on the legs where she’d been grinding, and her breasts were against his chest, squashing together to create a plump cleavage while her lips trailed up his neck with an airy whisper. “Do you want me? Do you want to feel me wrapped around you, catching you tightly inside of me? I need you.” She trailed off and exhaled thickly. “Can’t you tell I’m desperate for you?” Her hips shifted to ready her pussy lips around his tip, drawing it out. He felt a run of her sweet lubricant run down from her onto his cock head. The air was thick with the heavy, salty smell of sex.

Her radiating warmth and the slickness that was coating those folds coated his tip, but only his tip. The mental association left him longing for the electrifying movements enabled by such thick wetness of his shaft, but she gave him nothing more than that torturous grinding while purring against his neck. Teeth scraped along, nibbling down to his collarbone before soft lips replaced them, working back up the same length, bruising him to mark her territory. She gave a rough grind that nearly aligned him to her leaking opening, nearly let him inside. “It’s time for your payback. Take me.”

Fueled by longing and frustration, he lunged for her hips and pulled her tight to him. His fingers clenched into her sides, and she moaned softly into his neck. He shifted, spreading her pussy wide around the head of his cock before

Just then, the train jolted and slowed, throwing everyone forward. The wheels screeched as they scraped down the rails for a few seconds, and then they stopped, hard. Luggage thundered down from racks all up and down the train. Nicole slammed her chin off the table. Stan’s laptop was launched into his vacated seat and plummeted to the ground. There was a collective wail of alarm as the overhead lights went out.

Nicole pulled her head up from the table. There was a flicker, and the lights came back up one by one. She felt her jaw. It was fine. Lucky. A fall like that could have really hurt her.

The intercom popped. The voice wasn’t in the news-presenter tone they used to announce stops.

“Ladies and gentlemen, a conductor will be checking the carriages to see if anyone’s been injured. Thank you.”

Nicole pressed her face against the cold window to see what the heck was going on. The glow of streetlights could be seen through the dense white blanket, and the road leading in was visible.

Stan stumbled in from the vestibule. He was nursing a bruised cheek, but considering he’d been in the bathroom at the time of the crash, everything had worked out better than expected.

He pushed his way through to Nicole. “Are you okay?”

As Stan sat down beside her, Nicole saw he was trembling lightly.

“Yeah, I’m grand,” she said. “Bit of a bump, but nothing bad.”

The conductor, a purple hedgehog, threw open the door to our car and surveyed everyone. She was missing her hat.

“What’s going on?” Stan asked when she reached them.

“Sorry, but we’re not going anywhere,” she said in a low voice. “We’re just outside of Castleshannon. The snow’s buried the tracks.”

The lights went dim, the heater audibly cranked down, and the intercom came back on.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re going to be saving on power. If you have blankets or jackets, put them on. If you have extra, share them. We’ll provide what we can.”

Stan looked at the lights outside again, then back to Nicole. “Okay, so we could stay here on a cold, dark, stranded train,” he said, “or we could actually do something.”

“Whatcha mean?”

“I was supposed to be working today. A few hours ago, I found out I needed to get on a train for the other side of the country. I don’t know about you, but I’m gonna take charge of this day that’s run away on me too many times. C’mon, the next town is right there, you can see it. They probably have heat and lots of food. It’s worth a shot.”

“What if the train leaves?” said Nicole.

“It’s not,” said Stan. “You heard the conductor. We’re stuck here all night. Over there, they probably have heat and food and a place for people to move around.” We picked up our backpacks. “And don’t worry, we’ll have to come back, right? Where else are we going to go?”

They slipped into the vestibule together and pressed the little green button. The door hissed and slid open. Through the swirling snow and gale, those yellow streetlights could still be dimly glimpsed.

Nicole turned to this stranger. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Stan. Yours?”

“Nicole.”

“Nice to meet you, Nicole. Now jump.”

Nicole took his hand in hers and followed him into the dark.

Stan had never crossed a six-lane road before. There weren’t many of them in this country, and even if it had ever been a relevant option, it would have seemed like a bad idea. But there were no cars at all because of the snow. It took a while for them to cross. The wind blew hard and flakes landed in their eyes. They clung to one another’s hands, even though there was no realistic threat of them getting separated. Stan was cautious at first, but the message was clear. He felt the jelly-like warmth of liking someone and being liked back.

They rushed into the first café they found and felt the warmth rush over them. The windows had steamed from the heat. The predominant smells were floor cleaner and stale instant coffee, but there was a hint of promise. Sandwiches had been toasted here not long ago.

People-wise, the circumstances weren’t so hopeful. There had been someone at the till, but they had immediately disappeared when the foxes entered. From deep in the kitchen, there were two male voices, interspersed with slapping sounds and laughter, then muffled ecstatic screams. There was a pelican lingering in a cloud of her own misery in the farthest corner, an empty plate dotted with cigarette butts in front of her.

The guy from the till dashed back out. He was a raccoon, probably about 20, and his face was shining with the kind of radiance usually associated with religious epiphany. Just looking at him made Stan tired. Two awed rhinos followed in his wake.

“What do you need, honeybunny?” the raccoon called to Nicole.

Stan’s hand was still in hers, but that wasn’t dissuading them. She rolled her eyes. “Can I have a coffee?” she asked. She’d gotten this before.

“Ma’am,” said the raccoon, “you can have whatever you want.” The rhinos nearly broke their own ankles trying to get to the coffee machine.

There was a newspaper and several whiskey bottles in front of one of the counter seats. Stan and Nicole went over to take seats a few spaces down. As they sat, Fabian made a sudden lurch in their direction.

“Um, you might not want to–”

He cut himself off and retreated a step as a short bear emerged from the direction of the bathroom. He was maybe fifty with worn grey-brown fur stained yellow around the mouth and large turtle-shell glasses. Oh, and he was wearing a nightie. Light blue with floral patterns. As you do.

Nightie Bear took the seat with the newspaper and the whiskey and gave Stan and Nicole a nod of greeting before they could move.

“How do?” he asked.

The foxes backed up a bit in sync. He came off like a slasher from a horror movie. Who even says ‘how do’?

“Uh, no,” said Stan. “We’re grand.”

Fabian shook his head and gave them a back-away-while-you-can–it’s-too-late-to-save-me look.

Stan smiled and developed a sudden and all-consuming interest in the menu. It only seemed right to order something. He scanned it over and over, as if he just couldn’t decide between the cheese bagel or the pancakes.

“Have some coffee,” Fabian said, coming over and handing them two cups. The coffee smelled rank, but this wasn’t the time to be picky. He seemed to just be trying to win back Nicole’s company, anyway.

“How are you?” Nicole asked Howdo.

Stan stared at her. Clearly, she was prioritizing politeness far too highly. This was not the sort of individual you engaged with.

“I have just enjoyed a most invigorating cup of coffee,” said Howdo. He punctuated this statement by withdrawing a whiskey bottle from inside his robe and slamming it on the table.

“I do love a good cup. May I talk to you about cups?”

Nicole felt the need to address the obvious. “Why are you wearing a dressing gown?”

“What dressing gown?”

On that, Stan abandoned both politeness and Fabian and led Nicole to a window seat. They looked at the workers clamoring excitedly back in the kitchen, then back to Howdo.

“Is there anywhere else we can go?” Stan asked.

“I’d say everything else is closed in this storm,” said Nicole. “We could go have a look around…”

She paused, concerned for Stan. His frustration had been given away by the way he slammed his forehead into the counter. Back in secondary school, he did that so often that his peers didn’t know whether it was from despair or exhaustion, so they didn’t ask anymore.

“I’m gonna just go to the bathroom real quick,” said Nicole, and she did. Into a single stall bathroom. Stan peeled his face off the counter. The workers were still in the kitchen.

Nervous energy crackled his brain. This was his chance. He slipped off in the direction of the restroom. The door was unlocked.

Inside, Nicole stared at him, and he stared back.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

Stan reeled back in horror. “Wait, you’re not actually peeing, are you?”

“Oh, no, I’m not! I actually just needed a few minutes headspace away from all those other creeps. But why are you here?”

“You gave me the signal.”

“What signal?”

“You said you were going to the bathroom.”

Nicole rolled her eyes, and Stan shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Shame he didn’t bring his book, or anything to stop her from seeing that he’d gotten excited. But she was just so cute. Her eyes were as delicate and powerful as the snowstorm outside.

“Okay, there wasn’t a signal,” he conceded. “But you’re kind of amazing, so can I kiss you anyway?”

Jackie smiled warmly, closed the distance between them, and pressed her lips to his. Their eyes closed gently as they enjoyed the intimate moment.

Stan whimpered softly and gingerly held her hips. He couldn’t believe the amazingly hot girl who sat next to him on the train was kissing him. His hands moved around her tight shorts to feel her round, plump ass cheeks.

Nicole’s heart skipped a beat as she felt his hands on her ass. A soft, muffled moan escaped as her tongue teased into his mouth and slowly swirled. It had been a long time since she had been touched quite so hungrily. But then, he was desperate. She knew that.

Jackie pulled away from the kiss. “I know what you were writing on the train,” she smirked.

Stan, who had been freaking out the whole time, almost shrank back into the wall. She leaned in to kiss him again, more gently than before.

She lowered her muzzle a little and shyly asked, “I don’t suppose you’d write a story for me, would you? A story about us.”

She leaned in to trap him against the wall, her hands on his shoulders, her chest pressed against his to make a crease of cleavage. Below, he was fully erect, and he knew it was obvious. But she was so confident and alluring. He bit his lip for a few nervous moments, then nodded, smiling.

Nicole let go of a quiet moan. Her whole body tingled as he slipped his hand up under her t-shirt and felt her chest. There were still people outside. They could get caught. But that just made it hotter.

Stan lowered his hands and ran them along her sides, sending shivers all up her spine. He knew the sensitive spots, and he knew how to use them. His hands caressed the backs of her thighs, then returned upwards to peel off her shirt. He reached around to unhook her purple bra and toss it aside. Her breasts dropped with a bounce and ripple.

Stan looked up into her snowy eyes, and then back down, before hugging her close and kissing again. Whatever reservations they had quickly melted, and they locked their lips together, the passion building. Stan withdrew an arm to carefully grope at one of her breasts. His palm rested on the soft, firm curve and his index finger made slow circles around the nipple. Nicole gasped loudly as he toyed with it. The nub had been firm all day. Stan pulled his mouth away slowly from hers.

“Nicole’s nipples were hard from the cold, as Stan had seen through her tight, wet t-shirt,” he began his story. She averted his gaze, embarrassed, but clearly loving the attention. “Stan had been hard for her since he first laid eyes on the perfectly sculpted form of the beautiful siren now pressed against him.”

Jackie squealed quietly and ducked her head into the crook of Stan’s shoulder, hugging him close. She already found him attractive, but now she was deeply smitten.

Her tummy was a little chubby, which Stan really liked, but he couldn’t know if she was self-conscious or not. He kept the narration on the same track.

“He leaned in, brushing his nose against her neck, and then his mouth found those amazing tits.” Nicole smiled widely and looked away again. “His lips gently brushed against her nipple, teasing her, knowing he’d ensnared her. It was a wonder he’d found himself with such a beautiful creature. And then, he parted his lips…”

Nicole exhaled in pleasure as his tongue dragged against her nipple. No one had done this to her before. She felt gentle pressure from his teeth. “That actually feels really good…” she said breathily, trailing off into wordless joy.

“The canine boy, Stan, trailed a hand down to her sex, where he… where he found that a woman could be a lot wetter than he’d known before. Her passion was dripping between his fingers and matting her fur together. I mean, he didn’t know what he was expecting, but this was amazing. May I?”

His thumbs were hooked around the waist of her shorts. She pressed her hands to his and helped him pull them off, revealing the robust curvature of her thighs against her black panties. Her hands moved across to his own pants and undid his belt buckle. A shiver of anticipation ran through Stan’s whole body. It was hardly his first time but he still found it exciting to trust someone with this kind of physical intimacy.

Her panties were stretched open when Stan pushed a hand through and made slow circles around her clit. She buried her muzzle into his shoulder again, moaning thickly. She was exposed, but she was letting herself be exposed, and they both knew it. A grin flashed across Stan’s features as he rubbed his fingers against her.

Nicole’s head was spinning as those fuzzy fingers rubbed back and forth. Her chest heaved as she gasped for breath and tightened and built to the brink. She clung to him tightly and almost screamed in orgasm. The fingers pressed onto her clit, drawing out her release. Eventually, her body slumped into his and she relaxed her embrace, breathing heavily.

Once she was recovered, he ran his digits gently along her slick surface. Still whimpering, she moved to grasp his cock. It was rock-hard, but dry and neglected. Stan inhaled sharply, longing for more. She leaned forward and whispered into his ear, “What comes next, Stan? What happens next in the story?”

It was Nicole’s turn to trace her fingers over her partner, and it was every bit as torturous. She dabbed a droplet of pre-come on the tip of her finger and swirled it around the tip of his cock.

“The girl pulled him down onto his back on the floor and straddled his waist, pressing her wet, desperate sex intently against his shaft. Slowly, she moved back and forth, her juices lubricating him all along his length, before lining it up and sinking it into her tight, velvety pussy.”

And as she did so, they gasped together. “So tight,” he moaned. “So big,” she sighed. Together, the young pair rolled their hips, slowly working into an enthusiastic rhythm. Nicole clamped down on his cock and tightened around him, making him tip his head back in sensory joy. She clenched around him as little squirts of pre-come already started to coat her. She savored the feel of him inside of her and the pleasure-pain of being penetrated so deeply.

Time blurred. They rode for too long. It must have been suspicious, but they obviously weren’t going to stop. Stan panted and growled, bucking his hips with increasing aggression and watching her tits bounce and jiggle in front of his face. “Getting close,” he moaned gutturally.

Jackie hopped off quickly and swiftly got down on her knees before him. Her ass sticking up in the air, she took his cock in a fuzzy hand and pumped it furiously. She took the tip in her mouth and swirled her tongue around. At the same time, another hand toyed briefly with his balls.

He felt himself release but was too breathless and ecstatic to watch. All he knew next was that Nicole was kissing him again, his come in both their mouths.

As they pulled away, Stan mumbled lazily through jizz-smeared lips, “D’you like your story?”

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