The Mephit's Tales

Luke crawled into bed alone, around two in the afternoon; Cal had gone home, looking much braver than the night before, and Luke himself had opted to stay another day yet, to try to make a few arrangements with Jessica. She, however, had gone off to her summer job; so, still feeling a bit drained from the busy night before, Luke had gone back into the guest room for a bit of a rest. He hadn’t intended to actually fall asleep, but as he lay there, relaxing turned into dozing, and dozing into napping.

He woke up to the feel of warm bodies sliding up against him from either side. And while one such he might have taken, so to speak, in stride, with a sleepy nuzzle or a curl of his tail, there being one in front and one behind brought him rather suddenly to full consciousness.

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The night was wearing on. How far, Luke wasn’t sure. It was definitely night-time, though, the full moon hanging in the starry sky. Over a natural waterway, it would have cast a dazzling array of silvery ripples.

Here, the lights in the pool largely obscured that. The pool was mostly empty, now, most of those who had occupied it grabbing their things and going on to get dry. A number of other otters were still chasing each other around in it, though their hosts were elsewhere. A pair who’d cozied up to him earlier, right after his romp with Jess, were now keeping each other busy, not exactly discreetly, on the pool deck some twenty feet away; the boy on his back, the girl straddling him, pushing against him in a way that even with the beach towel draped over her, there was no mistaking the rhythms of sex.

It was a boy off by himself, though, that caught Luke’s attention – one he recognized, though didn’t know very well. Recognizing was easy; Calvin was slim and sleek and limber, sturdy-tailed and bright-eyed, the quintessential otter boy, but his fur was unusually pale, the golden colour of pine wood. Here, he was sitting on the pool’s edge, looking for the most part at nothing in particular, occasionally down at his empty beer bottle. As far as Luke could recall, it had been empty for the past half hour or so.

Well, there was a way to remedy that. The cooler was mostly empty, but there were still a few bottles left; he grabbed two by the necks and made his way over there.

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The bustle that had come before was just a prelude; now, the party was in full swing. Oh, one or another of the hosts sometimes gave people a message to quiet down, to avoid becoming a public nuisance that’d draw attention even out in the countryside – but so long as the volume stayed manageable, the booze was contained, no fires broke out, and the trash didn’t get scattered all over, people enjoyed themselves pretty much as they wished.

Which, around the pool itself, made for some interesting times. People who really wanted privacy found a room indoors; for those who didn’t mind a few observers, though… well, Luke may have been part of the first couple to get off without hiding it, but he and Jess certainly weren’t the only ones. The smell of sex was pervasive, even over the slight chemical tang in the water.

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Exams were done, school was out, and it was a fine summer day. What more reason did anyone need for a party? And what was more natural for an otter from the city than a pool party?

Not that everybody who attended was an otter. But Ryan and Jessica, hosting it while their parents were gone, were otters; every otter around that age that Luke knew in town was there; and Luke himself, of course, was one as well. All in all, about thirty college-age people were around, fairly evenly split between male and female, and about a third of them were otters.

Including some damn fine otters, in his mind, their hosts hardly least of all.

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Everything was perfect.

Eric had been trekking all day to get to this place. He was tired, sore, hungry, parched, and panting from the heat that boiled off of him. But as he looked over his campsite, the otter knew it was all worth it.

He set his pack down, loosening the straps that held his tent against its side. Over there was a spot of flat ground – he swept it with a small broom, and found it to be smooth, clear of rocks, roots, twigs, or other lumps. Unrolling his tent, he also found it to be just the right size.

He convinced his weary body to keep going a little longer, setting up the tent, getting his clothes and other daily supplies into it, and hanging his pack and the food in it safely between two trees. Finally, he turned to the real prize of his labours.

His campsite lay just a short distance away from the foot of a cliff, and a stream spilled over that cliff. It was a short enough drop at this point that the sound of falling water wasn’t thunderous; and there, at the base of the falls, the swirling water had gouged out a pool, with his home for the next few days right beside it.

Overheated as the otter was, that pool was like a piece of heaven brought to earth.

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