The room still smelled like sweat, musk, and the faint sweetness of her fur. Your chest heaved as you lay there on the tangled sheets, heart hammering with that stupid, overwhelming love that had bloomed so fast it hurt. Sasha’s thick, plush thighs had just been straddling you moments ago, her fat, soft ass—god, that perfect, cushiony squirrel tail bouncing above it—grinding down as she rode you with practiced ease. She’d been so gentle at first, whispering instructions, guiding your clumsy hands and inexperienced hips until you were buried deep inside her warmth, whimpering her name like a prayer.