Redhawk Caldera [m] Pray, Montana

The chorus of night critters provided the music for their timeless dance. Peregrine found himself getting lost in all the sensations. He lowered his head, arching his black muzzle toward his own chest and pressing his face into the space between his lovely wife's shoulder blades. He breathed against her red fur, rapidly at first and then slower as they struck their rhythm. Then his breaths came faster again when he began to guide them toward the culmination of their mutually pleasurable caper.

A long groan announced the grand finale. Peregrine then fell silent and slack as he clung to Fox, blissfully exhausted. He planted a kiss on each shoulder blade, another at the nape of her neck and then one further along her spine before he twisted to dismount. Their bodies remained tethered, so he didn't go anywhere, though he curled in such a way as to continue affectionately preening his mate.

"I just put so many babies in you," he joked, his muzzle brushing against a velvety red earlobe. It was meant to be playful, though the sensuality of it caused the simmering fire in his belly to begin roaring again. The best part about this whole process was getting to do it over and over and over again.