This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.
All work is fiction intended for fantasy only, regardless of content, and consent must always be acquired when engaging in any sex act with another adult.
Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.
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Long folds of white cloth draped down their bodies, the young man and his lover stepping from the rowboat with smiles on their lips. Jenniefer accepted his assistance gracefully, though there was an air of expectation in how she held his hand, delicately as if she was not comfortable putting her full weight on him. Her lover, similarly clad in easily flowing cloth, tied at the waist and bunched up at the shoulders, stepped easily from the boat, but was not the sort of man that would have been seen labouring in the fields or on a boat most usually, light and lithe.
All they were was the cloth that was called a "cloak" and their undergarments, needing no more than that in such a warm, comfortable climate. Matt sighed, glad to be back on stable ground again, though the island was not all that remote from the main body of land where they lived and worked. Their chain of islands, off the mainland of Greece, was a heartland and a peaceful abode in which to keep away from the bustle of city life, although it was fair to say that most there understood the pleasures of living. Even civilians like them, however, had to work hard.
It was not often that young lovers got to go away and experience the joys of something a little more delightful for themselves.
Matt held her hand, leading her up the sand away from the beach, waves lightly lapping at the shore. Her heart fluttered but, oh, she would not be wooed and won over so easily, not if she had her way about it.
"Oh, Matt, where have you brought me?"
He smiled, lips quirking, though the furrow in his brow was more telling of the knots of worry in his stomach.
"Somewhere special... They say that the rarest fruit in all the country grows here and I could think of no one more perfect to savour it than you, my sweet."
Jenniefer giggled faintly and blushed, ever so slightly mollified, though it generally took a lot more than that placate her. Still, if there was something so rare there, surely that was the reason behind all the rumours?
"I've heard stories of this place, Matt..." She murmured, holding his hand a little tighter. "Are you not afraid of encountering the beast here?"
He laughed out loud, shaking his head, but Matt turned his head, betraying his unease.
"No, no... No, of course not. There's nothing here. We don't live in the stories of the gods, Jenniefer, you should know that."
He was cocky, too cocky, puffing his chest up and strutting a little, trying to show off even without thinking about it. It was in every man's nature to peacock to some extent, whether they were royalty or a mere fisher boy, but Matt was a man who wanted to impress. The boat was secured on the shore, waves caressing its hull in a splash of seafoam, and he led her on and up into the ruins of time gone by.
The olive trees grew into the old, light-coloured stone, buildings that should have stood the test of the ages crumbled and broken. Statues dotted the way, seemingly present with no rhyme or reason to them, some frozen in expressions of horror, others missing limbs. Some even appeared as if they were running, one notable instance of a couple with their arms around one another, eyes shielded, catching Matt's eye.
Strange... Very strange. Who had lived there in times gone by? Pressing her fingers to the rough stone, Jenniefer took a small inhalation of breath, eyes wide.
"There must have been a great battle here... How would we know?"
But Matt wasn't thinking about the times gone by, all that may or may not have come to pass on an island that he had already forgotten the name of. It was remote, remote enough that no one would bother them there, no one else even fishing near enough to see their boat moored on the beach. He took her hands in his, holding them to his chest, and Jenniefer shivered, the pounding of his heart telling her more than his words did.
"You didn't bring me here just to show me some fruit, did you, Matt?"
Of course, she saw straight through him, a smirk on her lips and heart surging as her arms went around his neck, kissing him deeply and passionately, their tongues batting playfully back and forth between their mouths. Her lips moulded to his as if their bodies were made for each other, tumbling down in the middle of the grove, olive branches stretching overhead. The aroma of fresh earth mingled with salt from the sea, the leaves rustling gently against one another in an unseen breeze, though they were not as loosely hanging as ones on orange trees and the like, but tougher, like the life-sustaining olives that they bore.
The young couple thought of none of that, however, clothes removed, barely breaking from the warmth of each other's bodies to come together again, desperation in the lines of them. Yet it was Jenniefer who took control, laughing softly, pushing him onto his back and sitting astride his hips, her hair hanging darkly down to her shoulders. There could have been no greater beauty in the world than her, in any time, as Matt moaned, his shaft rising hard and wanton for her, pressed up against her thigh, just shy of the folds of her pussy.
"Oh, Jenniefer..."
