Silver Creek Chestnuts roasting on an open fire [m]

He had never mated before, had never mounted a female before whatsoever. He had no past to compare this to, though even if he did he likely wouldn't have been able to recall it. The moment was nearly mind-numbingly pleasurable and the only spare thought he managed to catch in his mind was that they would need to do this more. He was not in the right space to wax poetic about this moment, for his mind had slowed to only simple words of affirmation that this was indeed wonderful.

His mind did clear enough for him to rub his muzzle across Spring's neck in what he hoped came across as an intimate and entirely thankful gesture. As his pleasure built his speed increased until finally he stood at the edge of his release. It seized him so greatly he had to shut his eyes and a grunting moan escaped his mouth, muffled by the scruff he still held. He continued to thrust as his final throes faded, as his mind returned. He did not collapse on her back, finally having enough blood back in his brain to think to be polite. He released her scruff and gave one of her ears a gentle touch with the tip of his nose and slowly he dismounted.

He remembered being told of tying, and knew better than to pull and tug. For now, they were still one. For everafter, he hoped, they were a pair. He rumbled softly again in his chest rubbing his face against her side, for that was all he could reach. "We'll make this better than the past, Spring. For both of us." He whispered, voice still husky. "I promise you that."