John had thought he’d missed Kelly, while the cougar was out west on site, as much as she’d missed him. When he’d picked her up at the airport, he’d seen a twin to his own longing in her wide, intent eyes; in the way her hands had slid over him when they embraced, so like his own roving touch, he’d felt it. Neither of them had really wanted to go to a picnic on a cloudy, windy day like this, and it wasn’t because of the weather – the otter hardly felt it through his fur – or because Kelly’s coworkers were unpleasant people. No, they’d just had other things they’d both wished could be higher priority.

Maybe she’d missed him a little more after all, or maybe she was just more adventurous. But when he first caught a whiff of masculine arousal, he pushed down his own desire, saving it for later, when he could give her a proper welcome home.

She, on the other hand, cuddled in closer, her fingers sliding over his shorts, fingering his cock under the concealing blanket.

Well, if someone else was being naughty, why couldn’t they? There was nobody downwind of them, unlike whoever it was setting the example for them. So he didn’t protest, just let her name flutter from his tongue and over her ears, and slid a hand under her rear as she fondled him, her touch quickly growing firmer as it met the resistance of his hardening cock.

He’d had to stifle himself in the past, out of consideration for others nearby, but that had been to avoid waking them. This was another beast – pretending to be just lying on the grass and cuddling up for warmth as they digested their lunch, even as she fished his cock out of his shorts and started stroking. It was more demanding. He couldn’t quite keep his breaths entirely steady – and if someone had come up to talk to them, well, he was an otter; his musk would’ve given him away even if his breaths hadn’t – but he managed not to thrash around, not to pant out loud.

It got even harder to keep from gasping, from bucking up, when her fingers started wandering farther afield, stroking over his balls and pressing on the root of his cock, but he managed. He even managed, he thought, to appear nonchalant about reaching for a few tissues and “absently” slipping them under the blanket, tucking them under his waistband. If he made a mess of himself, there was no way that could be discreet… But a flick of the cougar’s ear, a slight quirk at the edge of her muzzle, told him she knew what he’d done.

He sat them up a bit, keeping the blanket tight up to their chests to give her some more room to work, and she took full advantage of it. He wasn’t setting any records for stamina this time – she drove him to one of his quickest orgasms ever, just barely cupping the tissues in her palm and over the head of his cock before his spunk gushed out of him.

But “barely” was good enough.

“You’re evil,” he whispered over her ears once he’d caught his breath properly.

Not that he’d have had it any other way.