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[section=Story]
The night was full of velvet seductions and Olivia Otterton's heart quickened. She has crossed into Zootopia's Heat District where all manners of the erotic were permitted. Entryways glowed with ice blue and heaven yellow while windows burned with danger red. The sultry lines of the body were made out in soft shadow, veiled in the thinnest fabric and reflective leather. Temptations were written out in burning neon. Smoke, scents, and music conjoined into a balmy haze that tickled all of Mrs. Otterton's senses. Men and women of all species leered from doorways and balconies up above, tracing her path. The impulse to turn back was real but she braved their stares and strange odors. The teasing calls close-by. She focused on her mission this night: to catch and confront the beast that has been stalking her.
It's been there for the past few days, just on the edge of her awareness. Those errant footsteps nearby. The shadowy movements flitting in the corner of her vision. That funny feeling in the pit of her stomach which made her fur want to stand on end. And the smell...that was the most memorable thing about it. A cinnamon aroma chased by cherry. At the end of the day, however, no one else around seemed to notice. There were no other clues that something was off. She could point to nothing exact except her suspicions, the way her scenes seemed to perceive someone watching her. She was sure of it but wrote it up as nerves.

The effects of what happened a year ago still persisted. The anxiety of her husband Emmitt's disappearance (and what was soon revealed to be a kidnapping.) The short-lived relief of his subsequent rescue which then turned into horror when they brought him back in what appeared to be a permanent “Savage” state which was then followed by joy when Emmitt was finally cured. And that's not mentioning all the political upheaval before, during, and after all that had happened. All within the span of a few days. But most thankfully things were now quiet. Zootopia churned with its usual bustle. But Olivia still remembered those days of terrible waiting, suffocating confusion. All encompassing anxiety.

For tonight her story for Emmitt had been that she was having a girl's night out. He hadn't questioned it. He'd actually welcomed it, taking it as a sign that they were both finally getting back to the fun parts of their respective lives. With both the kids staying over at their cousins', Emmitt could watch some TV, read a book. Perhaps he'd get back to his model planes like he did before. He wouldn't worry, he'd said and kissed her before she left. But she knew he'd worry regardless. Even now, she worried for herself on this night.

Despite this – even though this phantom presence, so strange and uninvited, perplexed her so – its scent came with a quiet comfort. That smell, reminiscent of cherries and something burning, not only did it calm her in a striking way but it also aroused her. To an annoying degree. Besides her own swirling fears and suspicions, that first encounter had brought on a certain anticipation. It'd happened on her way home from work. She'd seen nothing, but the Scent had been there. On the train it'd gotten her so worked up, it had her panting and wet. Bursting through the front door of their house, so very thankfully Emmitt was home early and the kids were out playing. So when she mounted her husband in the living room, it was a surprise to both of them. This hadn't been routine sex, borne out of boredom or an occasion. It was random, wild, rude lovemaking. Only then did Olivia know it was real. This thing, this presence that had attached itself to her. One night later on, the scent wafted on the night air through their bedroom window. Emmitt hadn't complained when she'd roused him from his sleep to fuck. Something of the Nighthowler still lingered within him, and sometimes it could be brought out in those special moments. Olivia liked that. From that night on, just from that scent alone, she was clued in on the prowler's intent.

Rowdy noises floated through rustling curtains above. Bright shops displayed all sorts of paraphernalia, prophylactics, and the most exotic aphrodisiacs. However curious she was, Olivia didn't need any of those colorful bottles with dubious liquids. The Scent, more potent than anything she could purchase, was now weaving through her head like dark magic. When she placed her hand on her lower belly, though her dress and fur her hide was hot to the touch. She had her shadow and her heart was racing. Her loins were aflame. This time she played the predator, leading her prey into a trap.

Further down this thoroughfare was a three-storied love hotel called the Velvet Den, a place that catered to small-to-large-sized citizens. She'd checked it out a few days before on her phone and found this block wasn't too deserted or too close to the more popular venues. If there was trouble, she should be able to get help. But if all went well, there wouldn't be much of an audience.

Inside the Velvet Den, the teller, a lithe bat with powder blue eye shadow took her cash and handed her the keycard to her room. 203. Despite the loud color scheme inside, it was a subdued place. The corridors were empty and no one was lingering outside their rooms. The carpet was clean and the amorous noises coming through the walls were just quiet enough. Just right for her.

Her room had pink walls and was lined with pink carpet while the curtains and bedding were a gentle purple. A large mirror hung on one wall to her right and a single chair sat in a corner on the opposite wall. A overhead light cast a dim gold light. A large TV was mounted on the wall before the bed, currently playing trailers for various porn movies. After turning it off and giving the room a quick look-through – she can't stop shaking, can't believe she's here – she opened the door and left it cracked. Placing her purse and bag on the nightstand, she climbed up onto the bed. Sitting with her feet crossing and hanging, she watched the door.

The Scent soon grew more intense. She'd almost forgotten it was there. Now it couldn't be ignored, making her head feel like a ball of staticy wool. Her chest was a living drum, its needy vibrations rippling down her belly and into her crotch. Her tail twitched.

The door opened soundlessly on its hinges, revealing her prowler. It filled the door frame, tall and especially wide. It had to turn its shoulders to get inside. Bloodshot eyes leered at her with unblinking intensity. As her prowler closed the door behind it, Olivia oddly began to question how it got past the teller. She had a hunch that this thing, this beast, has no need to sneak through windows. The Scent, she theorized, was multipurpose. While in public, when its musk prevailed upon the air, those around her were affected in ways besides arousal. They grew visibly drowsy, unfocused. In a cafe the elk cashier seemed distracted, and Olivia had to politely speak up to a glazed-eyed bear who was just standing there holding the cream. This beast could possibly come and go whenever and wherever it pleased. Perhaps even if seen, it could make people just not care.

Her shadow now revealed, Olivia's first reaction was awe. When it opened its mouth, its panting breath turned in a hiss that made her flinch. In the dim light of the room, its bloodshot eyes were almost crimson. Its muscles were distinct beneath white fur and the fur was painted with crescents and arcs like fearsome scars. The ones on its chest formed eyes with a staring, pinprick pupils. Each fingertip was crowned with a red claw. Red quills studded its shoulders and neck. And she could see it was male. Between thighs as thick as logs, a pair of huge, fluffy balls hung beneath an equally large phallus, which jutted erect into the air. Clear precum gushed from its tip. Some flew to the carpet while the rest dripped down the monster's length.

Locking eyes with it, Olivia couldn't help but compare it to how Emmitt was before. Teeth bared, muzzle crinkled, pupils like black wells that eclipsed the iris. The profane expression. It just stood there, letting her drink it in. Olivia's response was awe. It was not at all what she expected. She didn't know exactly what she'd imagined. A perfumed stranger in a suit? A mysterious figure in a coat? But this...it left her frozen with surprise. And then it rushed at her.

In that brief second, Olivia's awe turned to blind fear and she gasped. Yet the fear soon left her. Her head was infused with the Scent and written on it was a singular purpose, one which Olivia was just now starting to understand. Now on her back in the beast's soft shadow she stared up into its face and saw all the close-up details: the pores of its purple nose, the green of its eyes. And it's at that point she realizes who this was. The fox that had assisted Officer Hopps. One of the two that had both rescued and helped cure her Emmitt from the Nighthowler drug. Wilde. Nick. Nick Wilde. But this couldn't actually be him, she thought. Nick had red fur with a creamy underbelly. He'd been taller than her, taller than Officer Hopps. But this one...he was massive, dangerous. As big as lion! Yet the face...the shape of the ears and head...it was a fox, just quadruple in size, at least. She couldn't understand this transformation of him, but now that she'd noticed it, the conclusion felt undeniable. The Scent, therein laid the most damning evidence. Deep in it was a similarity that felt vague yet concrete enough for her to believe it: This beast was Nick Wilde, and tonight he'd come for her. Hungered for her so badly his body quaked and shook the bed. Cutting off his growl, he closed his mouth and drew close as if to invite her.

Carefully, quiveringly, Olivia leaned up and pressed her lips against his. His were so hot, almost feverish. Perhaps he's sick, she thought. Maybe this was an effect of the Nighthowler drug. The questions swirling in her head soon dissipated as their lips opened and their tongues touched. Hotter now. Wetter. They managed to negotiate the differences in the size and shape of their muzzles. Tongues played and twisted, testing one another's strength and texture. At one point, so excited was he, that he lapped against her nose, her cheeks. All over her face. Olivia drew little shapes on his tongue, suckled on and tasted the living muscle. Before when him and Judy had saved her Emmitt, she'd thanked them with a profuse and genuine heart. This time, however, she really wanted to thank Nick. Thoroughly.

When Olivia had gotten dressed for tonight – even now she couldn't explain the impulse – she had decided not to wear any underwear. Perhaps she knew she wouldn't need any. So when Nick got to nibbling at her neck, she looked down to see he had already hiked up her dress to her hips. Her legs were spread to display her glistening, puffed-out pussy. And though her thighs were slick with her own wetness, Nick's overexcited cock had added its own: Beads of precum had landed on her dress, thighs, and crotch. Possessed of their own distinct musk, she could feel these tiny points of warmth sink down through her fur to be absorbed into pores of her hide. She doesn't know how she could be so certain of this, like with the Scent, but any doubt was obliterated. The precum's effects, she found, were immediate.
Her libido was sent through the ceiling and into orbit. Where before it had been an intolerable stirring in her lower parts, it was now a roiling storm of utter need.

Briefly Nick parted from Olivia to give her a look-over. He wanted to make sure she was ready. Her breathing was a series of hot puffs to his face. Her hips churned in tight circles, back and forth. When she looked at him with her green eyes, her pupils were wide pools. Her nodding was apparent. While he pulled her dress fully off, her shoes to made muffled impacts on the floor. And all the while she was licking her lips.
Tonight, Nick was a little more in control of his urges. All his newfangled instincts were telling him to go at her with all his Savage strength, yet he resisted like all those instances before when he wanted nothing more than to mount her in an alleyway or a deserted park. Tonight I'll be under control, he told himself. Deliberate. Mrs. Otterton's body burned with an overwhelming heat he knew too well.

He lowered himself off the bed, knees to the carpet. With each hand holding a thigh, he pressed his nose above her pussy. There he inhaled her scent, this mature, flowery odor complimented by her added wetness. A growl rumbled from his throat and telegraphed into her genitals, making her moan. A hand pushed against his muzzle as if to push him away, but Nick knew it thrilled her. He then began his licks. Long, firm lashes of the tongue that covered her lips, drew over her clit. He licked her like he would a cherry ice pop. Salt and aroma and a secret sweetness. He drank down what she gave him. And what he gave her was a stunting pleasure that wanted to get at her core.

Olivia felt him go deep. His tongue pressed inward and she folded in around him. Her insides hugged this malleable appendage of his as it twisted and lapped hard against her drenched walls. Held by her thighs, she writhed against the mattress, hands clutching the sheets. She could feel it stretching inside her further. Looking down, she saw the threatening maw of sharp teeth and purple gums, and the purple tongue sliding between them to feed into her welcoming pussy. Suddenly something twitched and her tunnel hugged around his tongue. Her prehensile tail wrapped around his throat. Her climax was a full-body burst of ecstasy and in its shockwave her mind went blank and her nerves sizzled.

In her haze, she wondered how loudly she'd moaned. She'd said a word but cannot recall what it was. Her body before had been as tense as a rubberband pulled to its limit, and inevitably that rubberband had snapped. Now she was left tingling, overheated, and raw. Her afterglow was running laps through her body in time with her heartbeat. Little errant twitches came and went. She stared into a pink void, drooling, until it formed into a ceiling and she remembered where she was, what she was doing, and who she was with. For a small moment she'd drifted asleep. Only to awaken back into a dream with a very large fox kneeling before her, kneading her hips and laying little kisses onto her belly.

Below her, Nick got to his feet. His intimidating size begged the same question about what caused this drastic change in him, yet she was more than happy to let it go for now. For in the moment she could feel her hunger for him rebounding at a rate that surprised her. It almost scared her but her fear drifted off on the tide of her swelling desire. She opened herself up to him, ready to receive him again.

Aligning himself with her, her pussy lips bloomed as he pressed his tip inside. It continued to gush precum, lubing his path into her tight entrance. He was huge, especially for Olivia Otterton. She wasn't made for a fox like him, but normally they could manage. Now, however, in this form it was better to go the slow, firmly. Olivia could feel her whole body gently rearrange itself to accommodate his mass. The expression on her face betrayed her shock at this development. And beyond being felt, it can be seen too with that bulge rising against her cream-colored belly fur. This was Nick's gift and it was definitely one that kept on giving.

There was no pain, no damage being done. Even if the potential of harm approached, he could reduce his size by instinct in an instance. Her pleasure was his pleasure and vice versa. Like reflections bouncing between two mirrors facing each other. But that wasn't to say there was a total absence of pain. What discomfort there was, however, was negotiable. And by all accounts it actually complimented the pleasure received.

So when Nick slowly fed himself into Mrs. Otterton – her eyes going wide, mouth agape – it felt so good to both of them. Pulling out, her belly deflated, only to expand again when Nick thrust himself into her. Down a little further, more and more until she's at his knot. So small was she that when he grasped her waist, he could interlace his fingertips around her back. Holding her like this, his pace quickened. Mrs. Otterton was tossed to and fro upon his huge member, her pussy lips kissing his knot each time she descended. Above the incessant wet pounding that filled their room, Olivia's moans were incredulous. “Oh, oh, oh!” she exclaimed, her eyes going up into the back of her head. That look, coupling with the insane tightness of her most special place, egged Nick on. And for a brief lapse, he lost his grip on the wildfire of his desires. He didn't just want to have sex with Mrs. Otterton. He wanted to fuck her.

In one fluid motion he pulled himself out, twisted Olivia around to lay on her front, and firmly reinserted himself into her still gaping pussy. Though the sudden change in position caused a startled squeak to escape her, Olivia was already adapting to it. She looked over her shoulder at him with wanting eyes. With one hand clasped over the small of her back, Nick held her in place upon his massive length. He returned to his thrusting. With added gusto.

Gripping the cherry blossom-colored sheets, the feeling of being repeatedly filled and disengaged was beyond anything Olivia had experienced before. As strange as it was at the beginning, she learned how perfect it felt and was amazed at how quickly her body became so acclimated to such a large object throttling her insides. There was pain on the border of her sensations, but a type she could glorify in, savor while occupying her vast core was a burning pleasure. Every time Nick sliped in and his tip bumped up against her womb, she felt complete. And each time he pulled out, the feeling of her body falling back to its original shape was pure euphoria. Every time his throbbing knot bumped her ass and his swinging balls landed against her crotch, it sent an one-two ripple through her entire body. Down her limbs, into her fingers and toes, through the mattress and into the floor. She wanted to see how far she could go.

Her tail was reaching again. Sightlessly it found the globe of Nick's knot, wrapped around the bottom of it, and squeezed tightly. She heard the beast gasp, felt his hips buck savagely once more, and let out a roar like an oak tree splintering as it's felled. Her own climax was as if every hair upon her hide stood straight up, from her genitals to her belly and chest, all the way to the tiny bristles on her ears, to ring in rapturous harmony. Her body expanded as Nick fully hilted himself into her and expanded further to make room for his hot load. Her hungry womb took what it could before it overflowed. The rest was expelled on the sheets and splattered onto the floor. Such a shame, she thought at first, we've made such a mess. But then again, I want to see how much of a mess we can make in this small room of ours.
Coming out of the reverie of her orgasm, Olivia got to her hands and knees. Just those subtle movements evoked a curious reaction inside her. Touching her belly, she found it had inflated several times larger. Leaning this or that way elicited a sloshing sensation. Her body, she realized, was still cradling a massive amount of Nick's seed. Flexing her lower muscles caused the reservoir of cum to leave her as an gushing cascade. It coated her ass, thighs, and legs, splattering all onto the bed behind her and the floor below. Such a rush of fluids triggered another orgasm that sent her quivering, amazed at how she could have one on top of another like this.

Panting and feeling her body pulse with absolute satisfaction, she turned around to view the aftermath. Sheet and carpet alike were coated in copious amounts of ejaculate, the fabrics darkening as they drank it in. And the smel