petrichor

Hey, welcome! Nice to see a furry.

Teegan’s pulse picked up as Talia approached with her loving smile, her modest dress rustling quietly. The boy listened raptly to his mother’s caring but somber words. He fidgeted the whole time. She was taking so long! It took a conscious effort not to impatiently touch himself—his “penis,” she called it—while listening to her. But her “lesson” was fascinating, too. It gave the youth a glimpse into a whole new world. His curiosity about one thing after another was being sated—yet more confusion constantly flooded into his lust-clouded mind. Why would anyone touch him there unless he asked for it? Something sounded off, a subtle alarm bell ringing in his head. But then she touched his chest. It made him inhale sharply and instinctively put his small hands over hers, before pulling them off and blushing on account of his strong reaction. It left fire and ice in its wake as it drifted so gently down his slim, hairless torso. At the same time he felt such love and motherly care emanating from that simple touch. His wide eyes looked up at her, full of wonder and trust. He felt a warm thrum in his soul, the forbidden two-fold love he didn’t know to be ashamed of. The electricity spread through his shaft when she took it in her fingers. The tip leaked a droplet of something, deepening his blush. He hoped that wasn’t pee. It seemed different—slightly thicker and slimier. This was all so strange, but she didn’t seem disgusted by him, and that was immensely reassuring for the uncertain boy. Teegan hesitated when she mentioned the sheep and sex. He pictured the scenario, but in his mind it was his father on his mother, roughhousing with her as they did often when he was home. Something uneasy was beginning to click in his young brain, but his train of thought was being repeatedly derailed by the warm fog inside. Her touches and rubs were drawing embarrassing sounds from him, strangely hoarse compared to the chiming prepubescent boy’s voice he was used to hearing ringing from his mouth. He whimpered, he panted, and he moaned quietly. They were completely authentic, sincere sounds; he wouldn’t have known to act. His ecstasy was pure and real. The atmosphere around the tub was full of love, peace, and gentle intimacy. “Wow,” he whimpered in awe. As her fingers manipulated his little member, throbbing softly against them, he saw the slightly redder glistening tip peeking out with each little pump she gave him. His thighs spread wider, closed, spread again. The electricity was becoming overwhelming and he was hurtling toward… something. He looked up at her again with glazed eyes and flushed cheeks, reassuring himself again with her warm visage. He was looking into his mother’s eyes when he reached his first climax. “Mom!” The boy gasped and curled his body forward around her hand somewhat, his own both lightly gripping her wrist. As pleasure like nothing he’d ever felt overtook him, something thick came from deep within and squirted several times over her hand. The whole time he was in ecstasy, rocking and squirming and moaning. His weak side tingled and trembled slightly, his face red and his expression dazed as he looked back up at her. “Wow!” he repeated enthusiastically, the word a little slurred. His eyes turned to her hand that she lifted before him, looking a little confused. He didn’t see anything that looked like ‘seeds’; just a thick, opaque goop coating part of her hand. It must be different from sunflower seeds. Once she washed him off, he immediately stood and climbed into her lap, getting her to sit on the floor if she wasn’t yet. He was dripping wet but didn’t seem to think about that, curling up in a fetal position against her chest and sighing happily. “I feel so good… Thanks mama,” he practically purred against her neck in his first afterglow, feeling suffused with motherly love. His hands gently kneaded at her back and played with her hair as he slowly recovered. Eventually he returned to lucidity, but he stayed latched onto her as long as she put up with it. “Ok! I promise I won’t tell our secret.” He beamed innocently. After a moment he glanced down at his penis hesitantly, noting that it was now soft and a bit smaller again, though it looked thicker as if swollen. The flesh at the end glistened with a coating of his semen that had continued to leak out of him for a bit. “But… can we do this more? I really liked it! And I have so many questions. I won’t tell!” he repeated. He lifted his head then to gaze into her face lovingly. He felt so close to her, so safe and happy, he felt an urge to do… something with her. Something affectionate. He didn’t know what, so he just went back to nuzzling her soft neck. There was a yellow bruise on it that looked like fingers, though it was mostly hidden by the edge of her clothes. It seemed like a strange place for her to have bumped into something. He gave the “boo-boo” a little kiss as she had so many times for him. ”I’m sleepy… can we cuddle on the bed? Unless you’re busy…”

Teegan jumped when his mother burst into the room. A concerned, longing hand reached partway toward Fern as the scolded dog made his guilty retreat. “Wait mom—!” He groaned in frustration that surprised him with its intensity boiling within him, a frown furrowing his expression. It had been so good, and now he just felt cold and neglected down there. Fern’s slobber lingered on his flesh and cooled it, but that warm, probing doggy muscle was stark in its absence. It felt like getting out of a warm bath into a freezing cold day. The boy was stunned by his mother’s intensity as she held him tightly and fretted over him. He felt dazed, the exciting burning feeling still pulsing behind his pelvis. He was confounded by how upset she was. He just sat there in confusion as she hugged and nuzzled him, keenly aware of the feeling of his still-erect boyhood against the cloth of her dress at her abdomen. The texture of the thick laces there seemed to tease him. His eyes wandered around the room in a bit of a daze over her shoulder, absorbing the sights through the fine veil of her golden hair—the pretty way the beams of light illuminated particles in the air in front of the small round window near the roof; the soft, slow rhythm of water dripping from the lip of the bucket to the wooden floorboards; Fern, looking as confused as Teegan felt, skulking at the other side of the room with tail tucked. The boy felt a strange mix of peace and intense agitation. He felt safe but also unbearably needy—and he didn’t even know what it was he needed so much! He tried to figure out why she’d reacted so strongly to he and Fern doing something she had just been doing a bit earlier! It wasn’t fair at all! Or… Maybe she was just really mad at Fern? She must have thought the dog had been attacking him! Teegan’s earthy eyes widened in alarm as he pulled his head back again so he could look at her with innocent, sincere concern, his small hands on her petite chest for some leverage with which to push himself back. “Mom, I’m fine! Fern wasn’t hurting me! I asked him to do that,” he said, trailing off instead of adding “like you had” as he had intended. His budding young instincts told him that would be unwise. “I really liked it! Don’t be mad at him, please.” The boy was oblivious to the trauma and conflict roiling within his mother behind her skillful mask. His priorities were off, but he was sincerely mortified he’d gotten his best friend into trouble. Rectifying that injustice seemed absolutely paramount in his childish mind. But the aroused young boy had another growing priority, too. He enjoyed the feel of her hand sliding down his smooth torso, bold but also a little tentative. The gentle touch was pleasant in a very new way that seemed to stoke his fire and made him look down with curious hazel eyes. Her skin was lighter than his, though he was fair too, especially where her hand was. His pulse sped up as her delicate fingers drifted lower, then he let out a whine when it pulled away. He was really hoping she’d pick up where Fern had left off. Maybe he could do it himself, he realized. That didn’t sound as nice. Better yet, he just needed to clear up this misunderstanding so that she’d let him keep playing with Fern. Fern had left the room looking a bit dejected over the mixed signals he’d gotten today, his simple canine brain torn between whether he was a good boy or a bad boy. Teegan nodded and climbed obediently over the edge of the bath tub after assuring her he would keep their secret. Secrets were fun and made him feel special and trusted. His short but stiff member felt a little awkward the way it was sticking up into the cool air. Maybe that wasn’t normal and that was part of why she was so upset? Was it another thing wrong with him, like his muscles? His small rump settled into the water. He hadn’t put much in so it didn’t even quite cover his aching boyhood. Though it hadn’t been submerged, the end was wet with more than just dog saliva. The foreskin remained slightly pulled back, just a hint of darker red flesh peeking out. “It aches,” he whined, spreading his thighs for her, eyes locked on her face as he waited for her to fix his problem. “Hurry, mom?” A complex mix of emotions churned within that expressive hazel gaze—warm affection, cloudy lust, and perhaps most of all, implicit trust. He was confused, but one thing he never doubted was her love. He simply knew that his doting mother would take care of him. And right now he was hurting with a strange burning ache in his belly; of course she would make it better for him, just like when he fell and she kissed his skinned knee, or when she soothed him after dad scared him with his yelling. He smiled at her adoringly and expectantly, slightly wide-eyed, his slim chest rising and falling in a subtle but quick rhythm as he nearly panted like a horny little animal.

Teegan’s cheeks were flushed by the time the washroom door creaked and his mother came into view. He was not good at hiding his feelings, lying, or acting, so his nerves felt tense as she approached him. A shy smile played across his lips, a little smaller on the right side of his face, making it look like a small smirk. The boy bowed his head against her lips and then beamed up at her, his nerves momentarily forgotten. “Hi mom!” He bounced to his feet, eager to obey and leaving behind his bashfulness. He stole a hug, arms circling her waist in a brief squeeze, then darted off. His limp was visible but didn’t seem to hinder him. In all the strangeness, his drawing of her was left forgotten on the stool next to the one he’d been sitting on, looking a little crinkled from his nervous grip. As he worked to fill the bath tub by shuttling half-full buckets of water into the washroom, his mind was focused on Fern and his mother. There was a smoldering feeling low in his belly. It seemed to grow as he replayed in his mind his mother’s interactions with the dog. He hadn’t seen details of the space between his mother’s legs, but it definitely looked different than anything he’d seen. Questions whirled in his mind that he’d never even given a thought to before—such as, where did she pee from? His curiosity was obsessive. He took hot water from the pot on the hearth and added it to the water in the tub, testing the temperature a couple times until it was comfortable. The boy took for granted that the dog followed him the whole time. He automatically waited for Fern to come into the room for the final time before touching the door closed behind them. He was always Teegan’s constant companion and the boy thought nothing of it. It was when he was pulling his rough linen clothes off that he suddenly realized he was in the same bathroom, with the same dog, and about to be equally naked as his mother had been. He glanced at Fern with a nervous feeling in his stomach, like when he was about to show his mom art or ask for a treat, except stronger. The youth sat his nude rump down on the side of the tub, then spread his slender legs to look down at his own groin. His couple inches of ‘peepee’ looked a little different—swollen and subtly veiny. It felt like it was moving on its own, too, though he didn’t know where it was going. Gingerly he felt at the previously neglected flesh with his small fingers. The hot tingles immediately increased. The tip was a bit damp. Curious, he pulled at his foreskin, the darker red tip of his glistening little head poking out a bit and his eyes widening from the nice feeling. He pulled the skin back and forth a few times, his little tool starting to stiffen and point forward between his fingers. It felt good—was this why his mom seemed so happy before? He was startled by Fern’s head shoving into his lap. That warm canine gaze peered adoringly up at the boy, waiting for directions. Teegan grinned and hugged the big dog head fondly, feeling his hot breath on his belly. His fingertips were still wet. Unsure what was getting into him, he offered them to Fern, a string running between his two fingertips. The dog licked up the slightly slimy, boyish ambrosia without hesitation. The warm tingle in his groin suddenly roared to life and the boy whimpered, curling forward a little as if cradling the electric burning in his belly. “Fern,” he murmured warmly, thoughts starting to feel sluggish. Images of his mother on the floor whirled through his consciousness over and over again—the pink of Fern’s flashing tongue, the repeated slick sound, and most of all the momentary ecstasy he’d seen on his mother’s face. Biting his lip and giving in to temptation, he lifted his half-erect penis before the dog’s long muzzle. Fern sniffed and then immediately started lapping with his huge tongue that was somehow both soft and rough. Teegan gasped and tried to jerk back from the jolt that ran through his loins. Fern was relentless, with no awareness of the overstimulation he was giving the boy, and Teegan squirmed on the tub, panting and whimpering, alternating between closing his thighs protectively around his dog’s head and opening them wide in need. His little heart raced. His short shaft was now rigid. He hoped that wasn’t permanent. “Fern!” He gasped when the dog’s lapping tongue pulled his foreskin back just enough to swipe its taste buds across the head of his penis. The boy ached, rocking on the tub’s edge. He was oblivious to his surroundings at this point.

[Teegan] Teegan hunched over the small, rustic table, tongue between his teeth and his fair-colored brow furrowed in concentration. Light streamed in through the small window above him and illuminated the clutter all around him, his messy, light brown hair, and his expressive hazel eyes, making all three appear more golden than they really were. The sun felt warm on his skin. It was comforting and he was at peace. His legs kicked idly, well above the floor. The young boy’s small, blackened hand moved carefully over a small parchment before him, rubbing a charcoal stick across to create the vague form of a long-eared female visage. It wouldn’t be identifiable if one didn’t already know what it was, but he fidgeted with enthusiasm and pride nonetheless. The sadness had crept into his mom again lately. She tried to hide it, so he never acknowledged it out loud, but he felt it. What it was? That was an absolute mystery. Maybe she was sad that father was away so much? He hoped it was that. The alternative in his childish black-and-white mind was that it was his fault. Well, even if he couldn’t ask her, he could try and help her feel better. He beamed as he finished his final strokes on the parchment, bounced off the spare stool he’d been seated on, and sped to the rustic wooden stairs at the back of the house. [Fern] Fern’s sleek head cocked at his mistress’ voice, the tip of one ear curling over a little. There was no comprehension in those warm, earthy, canine orbs, but they overflowed with his usual devotion nonetheless. It was only once he saw her hand move that he reached for it, hoping she was offering him table scraps. He smelled nothing edible, but he did smell her. It was a different take on her that he didn’t usually smell, though it was familiar somewhere in his animal sensory memory. Her odd, slender appendage stayed there between her legs, so with curiosity in his eyes he nuzzled it. His canine nose was damp and cool as it obliviously bumped her love button. His velvety tongue flicked out, giving a small lick to try and determine what was going on. Pheromones immediately assaulted his sensitive system and he pulled his head away and cocked it in the other direction, gaze locked on her nether region. He was suddenly enthralled. It took some more coaxing and odd noises from this strangely tall bitch, but eventually he understood the assignment and was soon lapping steadily at her vulva, ever eager to please. He had no subtlety or sense of restraint; once he was licking her he was doing so firmly, tongue sinking into her folds and intermittently swiping the soft tastebuds across her clit—unknowingly of course. His bushy tail wagged with his eagerness, his entire rump swaying side to side rapidly as she made happy-sounding noises. A bit of glistening red flesh was showing at the end of his furry sheath. Maybe there was something edible here after all. [Teegan] Teegan practically hovered with enthusiasm, like one of those mages in the stories. The child was distracted for a bit pretending to be a powerful sorcerer gliding through the air and wielding flames. His fantasy was interrupted by a somewhat odd, hoarse noise. It was his mom’s voice but unusually low-pitched. Back on track now, he approached the small multipurpose room where the bath was. Clutching his drawing excitedly, his mouth opened as he poked his head through the partially opened door. The words froze on his tongue as he took everything in, wide-eyed. She was without clothes, on the floor! He blushed even as he stared with concern. Had she fallen? Why was Fern in there? Her head was currently arched back, so he retreated around the corner again before she saw him. He listened curiously for a few moments, feeling a little naughty for spying. She was making more of those low sounds. They sounded happy in a strange, hoarse way. She didn’t seem injured. He stole one more peek around the doorframe, eyes latching onto where fern’s head was. His pink tongue flashed in and out of his mouth, sounding extra wet. His canine lips glistened. Mom looked really happy. Cataloging it all away in his curious, childlike mind, Teegan vanished around the corner again. He felt very strange, the same place on his body tingling as where Fern was licking his mom, as though he could feel it himself. He sat down on one of the wooden chairs of the larger common room and pondered what he’d witnessed and the strange feeling he was experiencing, like something electric starting to build up in him with no release.

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Teegan Sex: Male Age: 8 Teegan is a boy of small stature but boundless presence, standing just 3’ 7” with a slight frame. His shaggy light brown hair often falls messily across his forehead, a wild match for the bright hazel eyes that seem to absorb the world with endless curiosity. His complexion is touched with warmth, his cheeks easily flushed from excitement or the chill of the wind. Though his build is delicate, there’s a resilience in the way he carries himself. His clothes—simple and rustic—hang loosely over a frame that speaks of his youth and gentle nature. His movements are distinct, shaped by the subtle effects of a minor disability. A slight limp favors his right side, his steps uneven but determined, his weak hand sometimes trembling. His expressions, too, hold the faintest asymmetry, a small quirk of fate that gives his already expressive features an extra touch of uniqueness. Though physically somewhat frail, nothing about Teegan’s outlook suggests weakness—he radiates warmth and optimism, his smiles wide and genuine, his laughter infectious. Even in his imperfections, he carries a quiet strength—one that shines through in his boundless enthusiasm, his eager gestures, and the way he faces the world with an unwavering, open-hearted joy. Fern the dog Tricolor, mixed-breed, three-year-old, male herding dog with alert ears and sweet brown eyes. “Helps” enthusiastically but ineffectively with the family’s small flock of sheep. Sweet and snuggly when not “working.” One leg is slightly deformed and a little undersized, adding to the closeness Teegan feels toward him. It was this disability that led Fern’s owner to abandon him outside the nearest village when he was about a year old; Teegan saw and hid him in a barn, feeding him from his scraps as long as he could get away with it. After finding out, his mother gave in to his pleas to keep the animal.