Acceptance

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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No one knew Amelia Brattle, the red vixen, in Leadcreek -- a frontier town where a new railroad was being built. One day, perhaps, it would not be a frontier town anymore and it might not hold any interest to her, enjoying the bustle of a changing landscape. More importantly to Amelia, they didn't know her last name of Cobb too -- or that she had had a different first name, in a tale. It wasn't important to her then, not considering that she had started a new life under Amelia: the name that she had chosen for herself.

And she kept her head down there, making sure that she had all her preferred padding in place, day to day, enhancing the shape of her figure so that she wouldn't draw the wrong kind of attention. She didn't mind her natural shape, no -- only that she was transgender and she had moved for a fresh start, to truly live her life as she was supposed to. Giving herself a touch more of a feminine shape around the hips to match the chest that had swelled, moderately, with the hormonal treatment she'd acquired helped her image and her ability to fit in at Leadcreek.

She didn't know how others would react there... Which was why she just wanted a quiet life. Amelia didn't need anything special, oh no: just herself, as she was. A few friends, access to books, wilderness to explore. She did have to be careful of the snakes out there though; that was something that she was not quite familiar with.

And then came someone who shattered that quiet little existence that she had built for herself, all in a dazzling tremor of delight. Even when his presence was quiet, he slipped into her life as if he had always intended to enact some kind of change.

Jothan Zephaniah Bronze. Jot for short. He should never have caught her eye when he was brought into the town -- something to do with the engineering for the railroad tracks? It was impressive that he knew about that, though she found that her eyes went to him repeatedly, especially when Jothan came into the saloon where she worked. She sometimes tended the bar in there, which was her preferred work, though was more often than not a waitress, dashing between the kitchens and the tables to serve up hungry folk their dinner.

Amelia kept herself to herself for a reason, though the border collie with rough, fluffy fur always had an easy smile about him, the kind of anthro who seemed to be focused on his work. She caught him in different clothes, from time to time, sometimes in trousers for labouring and suspenders and sometimes with a black shirt open at the collar, the buttons brass and a circlet around his wrist in a like shade too. He often wore a hat, going between a flat hat and a tastefully adorned top hat when he was not covered with grit and dirt from his work.

Someone versatile then. She wouldn't have minded her job and role in the town having a little more variation to it, though Amelia was still working on her flexibility.

"You always have my drink order ready before I've even sat down."

He stopped her one day, when she slid his drink across the counter to him. It was not a usual order, designed with charcoal (which was more problematic to the female furs of the town than the males, as long as they weren't prescribed anything from the resident doctor) so that it looked black, like coal. It was served in a tall glass with a rounded edge at the bottom (a flat base to sit on, of course) and a soft rim that was designed to make the drink taste even better. All of their glassware came from the local glass blower, who worked quickly and smartly with a little help to make glassware that was resistant to knocks and drops. Despite his cost, it had saved them a lot of money.

She blinked at the collie, standing up a little straighter, the folds of her long skirt hanging down around her ankles. That day, she was wearing boots with small heels that made a nice sound when she walked. She'd always liked that, the rap of them on wooden floorboards.

"Ah, yes," she said, smiling. "I don't like to keep customers waiting!"

"It's always so busy here," he agreed. "I'm Jothan, but you can call me Jot, if you like."

Amelia paused. She knew it was expected and yet she wasn't used to giving her name, not like that.

"I'm..." It was hard to get the words out, though he waited, leaning back a little in his chair, his tail draped casually through the back of it. "I'm Amelia. Amelia Brattle."

"It sounds like you belong here, Amelia," he said. "It's good to finally say hello, you know, properly. But I was wondering if you might be willing to take me on one of the local trails here? Cassandra in the mail room... She said that you're always out somewhere, that you would know the safe areas."

That was not something that the fox had expected him to ask and, somehow, she found herself stumbling into agreeing to do so, even though she didn't know how to do...that. She didn't know, not yet, how to have more than a surface-level relationship with someone that she was around -- like chatting to customers at the bar or nodding to the mail worker when they were collecting the mail to ride out to the next town. Things were slow there and it was that slow pace that, so far, had allowed Amelia to get her bearings.

Of course, she had found her feet there. She didn't need any more time to be settled, to be herself. Only someone to give her the push in the right direction that she needed.

So it was that both Jothan and Amelia struck up a tentative friendship, though they easily bonded over their love of the outdoors. It was not only for working in, however, and Amelia was able to find more drinks that spoke to his particular tastes, a slightly sour edge to many of the concoctions that she invited him to try.

They met up every few days after he finished work, when she had time off in the evening, talking over food, laughing, bonding. Of course, there were the side-on looks from those that had seen her around and thought that she was a quieter sort, shyer, not one for socialising...but neither Jothan nor Amelia noticed.

They were too wrapped up in one another, as they grew closer and closer and their friendship blossomed, softly and sweetly, into something more. Holding paws over drinks, even Amelia tentatively and cautiously letting the soft brush of her tail flick up against his under the table. Little touches and small notes, things that opened the door between them for something more.

Amelia was even brave enough to throw caution to the wind. After much deliberation and agonising over it, though she decided, in the end, that the worries and the sleepless nights were not worth it anymore. An anthro was not made to worry and it took its toll on her, making her paws shake when she was brushing out her long hair, tossing and rolling about her bed when she was alone. And, when she was with Jothan, she was not able to sleep soundly.

So, she did it. She came clean, though it was just honesty. She sat with him over the small, round dining table in his accommodation, set aside for railroad employees, and held his paws tightly in hers. Truthfully, it was the collie holding onto her, though he made a big effort to not let his brow furrow, so that he wouldn't let her see how concerned he was about her. Not when Amelia was already as worried as she was.

"I'm...transgender," she said, hating how it sounded like a confession on her lips, though it was just a truth. "It's... I know, it's different and I understand if..."

All further words died on her lips as he kissed them away. He pressed his lips to hers in a chaste kiss -- not their first -- and Amelia let out a breathy little whimper into his muzzle as he deepened the kiss.

When they finally came up for air, breathless and dizzy, he caressed her face, letting the fox lean into it, brushing the striking, red fur back from her cheeks and gently trailing his fingers down her rich brown hair.

"I'd never care about that," he breathed. "Never. But I'm so glad that you trusted me enough to tell me."

They kissed again -- but there was a more urgent heat to the embrace that time, relief coming through Amelia and comfort rising in Jot. Yet that was not what they needed, not as they slid to the same side of the table, together, and stood, their lips barely leaving those of the other for a single moment. They didn't want to part, gripping one another tightly, his arms around her, drawing her into his arms as he backed away towards the bedroom. It was fortunate, in that instance, that his accommodation was single-storey, so he didn't have to worry about stairs or anything like that.

No... They were able to tumble, in a bundle and a tangle of limbs and giggling lips, straight onto the bed together. The bed creaked but neither cared one little bit as they rolled together, their paws finding the ties of clothes, the buttons on his trousers, breath hitching and catching, lust rising more and more.

And yet...it was more than that. It was love, a deeper feeling like a coal burning softly in the pits of their bellies -- yet it was there to stay. And they could allow it to burn, stronger and brighter between them, as Jothan tenderly helped her out of her undergarment, the petticoat of her skirt puffed up on the end of the bed.

Neither noticed nor cared, not as they kissed and caressed each other's bodies, his teeth nipping and teasing at her neck until the vixen let out a quiet yip.

"Oh, Jot..."

The moment stretched out between them, something entirely for them to claim, panted breaths snatched away by needy lips, not wanting there to be any space at all between them. All they wanted and needed was that closeness, their little spot of bliss in an otherwise tumultuous, changing world -- even if that change was a good thing too. They had to take what was theirs, especially as Jot dipped between her legs, his tongue softly caressing her pucker and dragging up to taste and tease her before dragging up the length of her cock. All he wanted, quite clearly, was to see what ecstasy he could coax from her body.

It was electric, Amelia aware that his cock was throbbing, that the canine wanted her so very badly -- and yet he was putting her pleasure first and foremost, slipping his tongue up against her length and flicking it around the girth until her toes curled in pleasure. She lifted and bucked her hips with his mouth engulfing her, crying out his name, not caring who heard them, though they were most likely private enough that nothing would come of it. Most likely.

Either way, they were there to enjoy one another and the rest of the world could fall away, letting them be exactly as they were. Jot panted heavily as he lapped up her musky sweetness, tenderly cleansing her sheath too, as he knew she hated any stickiness being left on her paws, let alone more sensitive areas of her anatomy. Then and only then did he press over her, encouraging her to pull her knees up and back towards her chest so that he could reach her entrance with his shaft.

And she welcomed him inside her as his shaft pressed up to her tightness, the tapered tip nudging quietly before slipping inside. Then it was all about the roll of their hips and bodies coming together, her tail trying to wag even when it was trapped between the vixen and the bed, trying to show her enjoyment even then.

They took their time, his breath mingling with hers as they kissed deeply. Even though Amelia's legs ached, she didn't want to stop. It was not a natural position for her, but she took him deep anyway, thrust after thrust, easing her open without any lube. They went slow enough that the lack of it was not an issue -- as it was, of course, with adequate preparation and patience.

"Mmph... Ohhh..."

She moaned as he pushed deeper, thrusting gently, yet filling her with every stroke. It was so good to be filled again after so long, though it was still a stretch, her body aching deeply. Her shaft tried to pull up again, though it was not often that she would grow erect when teasing herself anally. That was okay too as she relaxed into it more and more, a light stream of thin pre-cum dripping from her shaft while she took pleasure with Jot.

"Mmm... You feel so good," he breathed, lips barely apart from hers. "Just you... Just me... Us..."

He kissed her again, heat tangled between them. And there was no stopping them as he sank into her again and again, his knot slowly swelling. Jot pushed in hard enough, before it was fully engorged, so that it would swell inside her, locking the two of them together rather than growing too large outside her tail hole, the fox's breath hitching.

"Oh... Oh, Jot!"

She jerked up, eyes wide, hips thrusting. It was another orgasm -- and yet not one that she had expected! Her body twitched, a deep thrum coursing through her, her shaft spurting weakly, yet it was even more deeply satisfying, coming from penetration alone, as much as that was a surprise. He helped her ride it out with every thrust and roll of his hips, holding her close to him and kissing her neck, though Jot had to cum too, his knot holding them together as he groaned out his love for her, spilling his essence inside her.

"I love you, darling..."

She breathed the words back to him, tickling his neck with her breath. Yet they were there and they were together, the light sweep of the collie's tail brushing the comforter on the bed, a soft tease of fur on fabric.

There, they stretched out, relaxing in the afterglow, all the time in the world for one another. Later, Jot would move to town full-time, not only to work on the railroad, for he had another, perfect, reason to stay there.

And her name was Amelia.