The Favors of Lady Chrysanthemum

You wander listlessly down the narrow rows of the little community garden. In spring, there would be some good symbolism here, about how the world around you is blooming into greatness while you can only observe. Now it's November, and there aren't a lot of blooms left. You raise the hood of your sweatshirt. You're a snake, but not the kind with a built-in hood—a gentle-eyed male garter snake with brown scales tinged with green. Stuffing your paws in your pockets, you envy the warm-blooded people around you, the squirrel mothers and deer babysitters watching their children on the playground, in the colder half of the year.

You wander east, along Chambers Street, trying to get more distance from campus. How much longer can you delay deciding on some more concrete future for yourself—or at least, what degree you want? How much longer can you wait for inspiration to strike you from the blue? You indulge in sonder as you try to imagine the purpose that guides the rapid steps of other pedestrians. Your own slow purposeless steps, your tail dragging on the pavement, pause when something mundane inexplicably catches your eye.

Looking at the cracks in a building, you think you can make out the outline of a bird with folded wings. A heavily weathered sticker in the shape of a star lies between some of the cracks. Capriciously, you walk in the direction the sticker suggests to you. A few minutes later, you find yourself in an alley. You have the rare experience, in this busy city, of there not being anybody else in your field of view.

You look around. In the middle of the alley, there's a tiny storefront. The awning says "Lady Chrysanthemum's Fantastic Fortunes and Favors", followed by something in Chinese. It's decorated with an Eye of Horus, a cartoon drawing of a crystal ball, and lots of other less easily recognized symbols. In the dark and dusty window, you can make out a big, shiny piece of quartz sitting in a stand.

You were pretty sure there was a little museum of some sort here, last time you looked. Now it's practically vanished and this fortune-teller is here instead, looking for all the world as if it was a longtime neighborhood institution. Curious.

What do?

• Enter the shop
• Keep wandering

A jangle of chimes and bells play from the door as it swings closed. The storefront's ceiling lights are all off, leaving the place shadowy, illuminated mostly by sunlight coming in through the window, and to a lesser degree by thick red candles. The store is bigger than you expected. You can make out books on mythology and mysticism, and a good number of esoteric artifacts—a tree branch wrapped in yellow ribbon, a set of antlers, a smoky mirror, and a blanket covered with runes—sitting on shelves or hanging on walls.

Around the center of the room, a woman is sitting cross-legged on a thick paisley rug, her eyes shut in contemplation. She's a vampire bat, lavender-furred with a large flat nose, one perky, sizable ear inclined slightly as she hears you enter. "A snake!" she says softly, a bit reverently, as she opens her eyes. "I could feel the incoming energy of some being of the earth and soil. I am honored by your presence here today."

"Honored?" you say, with a slow blink.

The bat rises and bows to you. She's short, at least a head shorter than you, but generously proportioned. Very generously. Yoga pants outline her wide hips and thick thighs, and a tight white crop top reveals a pudgy purple belly with a small, cute navel. The bat fingers an ankh necklace lying in the deep valley of her great round breasts. "Welcome to my humble establishment, where I, Chrysanthemum, master of the arcane, will serve as your guide to the spirit world." She smiles, revealing short little fangs. "But you can call me 'Chryssie'."

"Nice to meet you, Chryssie." you say, flattered by her attention despite yourself. "I'm Tony." It's warm in here; you unzip your sweatshirt. "I've never talked to a psychic before. How does this work?"

"That's quite all right. It's a highly individual process." Chryssie approaches you and gently takes your paws in hers. The mammalian warmth beneath her fine smooth fur is comforting, and you feel as if you've released a breath you've been holding for a long time. "Just tell me what's been troubling you, or what you'd like to know. Whatever's on your mind." Her voice is pleasantly musical. Her intonation is exaggerated, even performative, but as derogatory as it may sound to call something "performative", you enjoy the feeling that she's putting on a little show for an audience of one: you. "I'll suggest a spiritual practice that may bring you illumination, and together we'll find your new path."

What do?

• Tell the nice bat about your problem
• Get outta here

"I'm feeling a bit lost." you say, glancing aside. "Directionless. I'm in community college, but I don't know what I'm doing there."

Chryssie nods seriously. "And how would you say you feel about this, Tony? Bored? Feeling you've lost your zest for life?"

You think about that. "Well, now that you mention it, yeah. I am bored. Nothing's seemed really engaging for a while."

Chryssie smiles warmly. "I thought so! Your spirit is roving, Tony. You've grown too detached. A child of Gaia like yourself needs to breathe deeply of the soil, plants, life! Your ancestors spent their whole lives with their hearts on the earth. You need a little touch of contact now and then, a little kiss, to keep you grounded. And I know just the thing for it."

Chryssie dashes over to what looks like an antique medicine chest, and rummages in a narrow drawer. With her back to you, you can see a cotton-ball tail, and, heavens above, an absolute dump truck of a behind, each curve clearly defined by her tight yoga pants. Is it some trick of the shadows, or does it all jiggle visibly when she walks? You bite your lip involuntarily.

She comes back with a tiny bottle of a pale yellow fluid. "What I think you need is some touch treatment. I prefer a holistic, syncretic approach that incorporates elements of reiki, ayurveda, and acupuncture. No needles, though. Just friendly touches!" She spreads her paws wide.

"So, a massage?" Whatever the ostensible spiritual basis, you wouldn't mind a massage. Especially from such a friendly and attractive personage as this one. You feel for your wallet. "How much?"

Chryssie looks surprised, as if she hadn't considered that. "Oh. Well, business has been slow, and I want to help you… how's twenty dollars sound?"

What do?

• Get touched

"All right." you say, and hand over a bill.

"Great!" says Chryssie. "Come along, then."

She takes you by the paw, giving it a gentle squeeze, and leads you through a door behind the counter. She must be renting more of the building than you imagined: in this hallway, you can spy a huge trove of mystical knickknacks behind a door that's cracked open. Chryssie takes you into a bedroom. A huge four-poster bed with a thick, royal-purple coverlet appears to be your destination. Glancing at an ornate vanity with a large mirror, you get a flattering profile view of Chryssie, making it plain just how far her ample bosom and round tush project.

"May I take off your clothes?" says Chryssie, tilting her head slightly as she looks up at you. When she's this close, it's hard to maintain eye contact while her cleavage beckons to your gaze inches away.

"Uh…" You thought you were expected to undress yourself in this sort of situation, but instead you say "All my clothes?"

Chryssie nods. "Only if you'd like me to, of course. It helps create a powerful sense of intimacy that can be very restorative in cases like yours. But the important thing is that you feel comfortable, safe, and honored."

Your mouth feels a little dry. This seems like a lot, but it's awfully appealing. The door is closed; the two of you have total privacy. What the heck. "Sure. Go ahead."

Wordlessly, Chryssie takes off your sweatshirt and the shirt beneath it, hanging them neatly on a chair. She strokes gently down your arms, across your back, and down the smooth scales of your chest and belly. She glances at your face, to be sure you're okay, with a warm, affectionate expression that tells you everything is going to be all right. You're filled with a deep sense of security and quiet joy. Perhaps you needed this more than you thought.

Next Chryssie removes your footwear, following up each unshod paw with a gentle stroke to your soles. Finally, she helps you out of your pants and underwear. As your matching pair of hemipenes, one stacked above the other, is revealed, she makes a little interested noise, like a "huh". You feel relieved. You have painful memories of girls who'd never seen a herp naked before, and who didn't even try to conceal a visceral sense of disgust. Chryssie seems at worst pleasantly surprised, and doesn't object to the evident fact that you already have two half-chubs. Her touch travels along your buttocks and hips to your inner thighs, managing to avoid contact with your balls by less than an inch.

"You're beautiful." she says.

You have a warm and fuzzy feeling. "You've very kind. Sorry if I seem a little over-excited."

"Oh, no, that's no problem." She strokes your shoulders and arms. "We're trying to renew your connection with earthy and primal things. Try to be open to whatever feelings you feel—even sexual ones."

"…Right." you say, nodding, and you can already feel a bit more blood flow to your nethers as you lower your guard. "I'll do that."

"Now, lie down, and we can start the treatment proper."

What do?

• Get touched some more

You sink into the soft bed, your bare scaly tush pointing skyward.

"Your comfort is critical to the healing process," you hear Chryssie's musical voice reassure you, "so you'll tell me if anything isn't to your taste, okay?" You feel the mattress sink further as her sizable body lands beside you.

"Sure thing." you say.

Her warm paws spread oil from the little bottle over your smooth scales. She strokes you with varying pressure, skillfully—and, if it's not your imagination, affectionately. She hums very quietly, lulling you further into relaxation, as aches you didn't realize you had start to fade away.

"Think about the earth, Tony." she says. "Think of Gaia, your mother, the source of all life. Think of the rich loam, the rustle of leaves, the chirp of birds, the rush of blood through your veins. You are heir to this wonder! Is it not marvelous?"

"I guess it is, sort of." you murmur.

Chryssie massages your arms, shoulders, back, and legs. She lifts your heavy tail to properly caress it all around, with light squeezes. She even tenderly rubs your butt. After some time, she says "How do you feel?"

"Good. Really peaceful."

"Good, good." says Chryssie. "Now turn over, please."

You do, and are dimly surprised to see just how erect you've gotten. The mild pleasure of your cocks pressing against the mattress had just kind of blended in with the general euphoria. They throb desperately for Chryssie. You smile a bit sheepishly.

Chryssie starts to stroke your chest. "Now, Tony, I want to bring you out of that relaxation a bit, okay? I want you to feel the mystical energy of life start to activate and revitalize you." She gives your nipples a gentle pinch, making you let out a quiet gasp. Her paws slowly, titillatingly, work their way downwards. She's onto your inner thighs now, and… "May I touch the parts of your body that create new life?"

What do?

• Get intimate
• Opt for some cuddling of a less acutely sexual nature instead

"Yes," you say, grinning despite yourself at her peculiar phrasing, "please do."

With maddening lightness, Chryssie glides a furry digit down your upper shaft. A bead of precum oozes out. Her other paw lovingly cups your balls, working your testicles between her pads. Soon she's giving you more of what you want, solidly squeezing your cocks and pumping up and down with pleasurably intense pressure. You stifle a groan, but Chryssie says "Make whatever sounds come naturally. Don't bottle it up!" You oblige, and let out a shameless moan, your forked tongue flickering rapidly just beyond your mouth.

After a good deal of two-fisted vigorous, wonderful stroking, Chryssie gives your glans a little pat and says "All right, ready for your turn?"

"My turn?" you say, blinking in surprise.

"To touch me, of course." says Chryssie. "By engaging in a mutual process of intimate touch, you will become alive to the interconnectedness of life."

Whoa. Even when she was straight-up masturbating you, you didn't think you'd get to do this. "Er…" You sit up. "I mean… I'd love to, but wouldn't that basically be prostitution?" You grimace and reach for your wallet at your side, which isn't there, because you're naked; a glance at least confirms there's a familiar bump in your discarded pants. "You're not a cop, right?" You know that the thing about cops being legally required to say they're cops is an urban legend, but you couldn't help asking.

"I understand your concern." says Chryssie, playing with the soles of your feet. "But no, Tony. I won't charge you a fee. I'm partly a sexual healer, but I never promise sexual services for money. Only when I believe it's truly helpful for the client, and my own body responds with a concordant affection for his—or hers—do I offer this kind of intimacy. To do something like masturbate you for mercenary reasons, without a genuine desire on my own part, would be, to my mind, a kind of deception and betrayal."

What do?

• Undress Chryssie

First you'll have to get all those inconvenient clothes out of the way. Chryssie nods encouragingly as you lift her shirt over her head. Her wonderfully pendulous breasts pop free, dropping deliciously. They must be uncomfortably cramped in practically any top, the poor things, even without a bra. Their soft flesh is covered with a very fine layer of fur, which is the paler lilac color of her abdomen and chest. The nipples are small but quite red.

You tear your gaze away from her tits to help her out of those tight pants. Massive furry purple thighs are revealed. Her underwear consists of a naughty electric-blue G-string with the symbol of Scorpio. Chryssie grins at you as she snaps the waistband, and you step around so you can peep those cheeks. Lord, what a booty. She must sit like a queen on the plush comfort of those large, jiggly cushions.

Then you relieve her of her panties and toss them aside. Her dark pussy lips are no more modest than the rest of her, proudly displaying her innermost parts for your inspection. Her large, white, and slightly protruding clit glistens with her fluids. What you can see of her pucker hidden in that massive tush looks tiny.

You admire every inch of Chryssie's buck-naked body as she lies before you on her side, stroking a paw slowly along her hip. She's scorching-hot and she knows it. "Act as the spirit moves you to act." she encourages you.

What do?

• Touch Chryssie's breasts
• Touch Chryssie's butt
• Make out with Chryssie
• Enough foreplay: show Chryssie who's boss and get your cock(s) inside her right now

Eagerly, you grab her breasts. They're as soft as they are big; your digits sink into them. You stroke them, squeeze them gently, and bounce them while Chryssie, clearly turned on by how much you're enjoying her body, beams at you. You tweak a nipple, and she shudders with a small sigh. Your long, thin forked tongue steals out of your mouth and plays about, now licking a nip, now curling around the end of her boob—the most you can encircle even with a serpent's tongue. Soon you're kissing, sucking, and biting on her right tit while your paw stays on her left, massaging, squeezing and kneading it. Chryssie proves to have sensitive nipples and whispers an oath as you delightfully torment them.

"Nursing is comforting, isn't it?" says Chryssie, stroking the flat top of your snaky head.

You nod eagerly, your mouth still full of titty, and tighten your grip on the other one.

"May my breasts bring you all the primal maternal comforts of Mother Earth. Sit, and they'll bring succor to the most intimate parts of your body."

She doesn't need to tell you twice. Your cocks aching, you sit on the side of the bed while Chryssie, tossing her necklace aside and kneeling reverently before you, gives each cock a friendly stroke and then slips them into her ample cleavage. She squeezes her breasts together, suffocating your penes in warm, soft, fuzzy titflesh, and vigorously rubs up and down. She looks up at you happily as you clutch the bed with intense arousal. Her head dips, she gives your top hemipenis a kiss, and then she sucks, one fang titillatingly grazing the side of your shaft. She alternates vigorous mammary rubbing and wet, noisy slurps of one of your dicks, helping to lubricate their passage through her cleavage with her copious batdrool.

You can't take this for long. You groan and Chryssie's warm cleavage explodes with a geyser of hut cum. A long line of jism is ejected onto her throat and chin, while more of it oozes down her fluffy, round belly. Chryssie winks and starts to clean off your cocks with the fur of her breasts.

While Chryssie lies prone, you sit on her legs and start to pet her big tush. Her buttcheeks are jiggly yet springy, resisting your squeezes and pushes insolently. You help yourself to big handfuls and slide them around under your paws. Your paws wander a bit, too, groping her thighs of justice and rubbing along the small of her back.

"Spank me." she mutters suddenly.

You blink. "Sorry?"

Chryssie raises her upper body enough to turn most of the way around and looks you in the eye. "Spank me, Tony." she commands.

You can't help but smile. "Yes, ma'am." You give one cheek a swift, light smack, then the other.

"Harder than that!" she snaps in annoyance, letting her head fall back on the pillow.

All right, then. You deliver a few more serious strikes.

"Ah! Ah!" she cries out.

"Doing okay?" you say.

"Don't stop, stupid!" she growls.

This isn't the sweet-tempered Chryssie you remember from ten minutes ago. She's riled up, and getting you somewhat riled up, too. You scowl and decide she's earned it. Savagely you pound on her plump cheeks.

Chryssie shudders, moans, and yanks on the pillow. "Harder, Tony!" she yells. "Harder!"

You oblige, putting your back into it, giving the naughty fortune-teller a beating to remember. Are there other people in the building who can hear this? Both of you are far too horny to care at this point. You gleefully let out on your frustrations on that wonderfully smackable booty and Chryssie just about melts for it.

Your arm gets tired eventually. You give Chryssie a few extra hard smacks when she doesn't expect it, but eventually you both need a minute or so to recover. Her purple tush glows red with your ministrations. You notice that a stain has formed on the bedspread, around the middle of Chryssie's body.

"Well?" says Chryssie at length.

"Well what?"

"Don't you want to do anything else back there?" She wiggles her derriere enticingly and gives it a loud smack.

"Er… uh… do you mean, uh…"

"Anal, you dense snake. Now. Mama's horny." Her eyes narrow, and her fangs are especially conspicuous.

What do?

• Do as you're told

"Yes, ma'am." you reply.

Chryssie tosses you the little bottle. You lube up your shafts, hissing quietly as they glisten and pulse beneath your paw, then pour some on the entryway. You get in position on top of her, resting your paws on her shoulders. You squeeze your cocks together and gently probe her anus with them.

"I intend to walk away from this with an intact colon." Chryssie snaps. "So just one, please."

Chastened, you let your upper hemipenis bounce free and start to penetrate her with only the lower one. You grunt with delight as her tightness squeezes your glans. Chryssie keeps you entering her at exactly the rate she specifies, now saying "Deeper." and now "Stop!" according to her whims. Every fiber of your being begs to just go wild, but the occasional scathing look from Chryssie makes it clear what she expects.

After agonizing teasing by literal inches, Chryssie finally permits you to thrust. You just manage to avoid crying out from relief and gratification. "Yes, that's a good boy." Chryssie purrs as your cock thrills in her warmth. You feel weak, lightheaded, capable of little more than desperately sliding in and out of her huge plump cheeks. You empty your mind and pump. A pleasing smacking sound is punctuated by boyish little moans that you can't help but make for the magnificent Chrysanthemum.

"Enjoying yourself?" says Chryssie teasingly.

"Yuh—yes, very much." you gasp. "God, yes. Thank you, thank you!"

"I rather like this, too." she says. "Can you just do one other thing for me, Tony?"

"Anything!" you say quickly.

She looks back at you again, with her sultriest gaze. "Come for me, Tony. Let yourself go and fill me with your seed."

"Really?" you stammer, feeling increasingly hazy. "You don't mind?"

"In fact, I require it. Now be a good little snake and come."

You could scarcely refuse such a command. You hiss weakly as your balls churn. Half your load sprays inside her while the other half, gushing from your relatively neglected upper cock, falls across her back and the valley between her cheeks. Finally, you collapse on the bed in pleasant exhaustion, panting.

Chryssie rolls beside you, gazing upon you with beneficent pride. She strokes your head and plants a kiss on your cheek. "You did wonderfully."

A lady this pretty deserves all the kisses. Embracing her, you plant a smooch on her big, flat, leaf-shaped nose. She giggles, and you follow up with a serious kiss on her thin black lips. Her hot breath smells faintly of musk and cinnamon. She kisses back, closing her heavy eyelids and lightly scratching your back. Your serpentine tongue shoots into her mouth and she quivers when she realizes just how far it can reach. Her own tongue, short and much broader, easily enfolds and slurps on yours.

As you and Chryssie kiss, the rest of her body is drawn to yours. You're nestled in her thick, furry thighs, your cocks pulsing as they're pressed against her. For her part, you can feel a moisture oozing from her groin. You reach down, stroking her great round belly, and get into better contact with her needy clitoris. She moans from even a little direct stimulation. You gradually increase your efforts, and Chryssie returns the favor by regaining hold of your cocks. She might be roly-poly, but she's got plenty of grip strength, and she's stroking both shafts good and hard in one fist. Whether by luck or skill, she's using one of your favorite masturbation grips, which lets you frot yourself, each penis stimulating the other.

Soon the two of you are a sweaty, twitching pile of gasping, rubbing, and tonguing. Chryssie makes a delighted, high-pitched squeak at orgasm, her jellylike body practically vibrating. Her ears droop and she gazes at you with pure love. Viciously she jacks you off, murmuring softly "C'mon, you can do it; c'mon, almost there." Before you know it, you're overcome, and your pulsating twin boners are saturating the fur of Chryssie's inner thigh with spunk.

Satisfied, you and Chryssie lie beside each other and take a little well-deserved rest, admiring each other's sex-stained nakedness. This wasn't how you foresaw your visit to Lady Chrysanthemum's Fantastic Fortunes and Favors going, but you can't say you're disappointed.

"All right." you say levelly. You shove her down onto her back and squat over her. A drop of pre-ejaculate falls onto her belly as you survey her delicious nakedness.

Chryssie blushes, and her ears lower. "Feeling bolder now, are we?" she says. She appears surprised but definitely not displeased to see a man being this forward.

"You got me very excited, Chryssie." you say, stroking her cheek. "How about you give me a nice suck?" You land your scaly rear end heavily on her cleavage and scoot forward, bringing your glans closer to her lips.

"Yes, sir." she says, going even redder.

"Good girl." You give her ear a stroke as you ease your hemipenes into her open mouth. "You can take both, right?"

After a moment's hesitation, she says "Mm-hmm." through a double mouthful of cock.

"Perfect." You start off with some nice, gentle thrusting, sliding along her broad tongue and the roof of her mouth.

Chryssie dutifully plays her tongue among and between your shafts, even reaching out to give one of your dangling nuts a lick with a tonguetip. She's got a faraway look in her eyes you haven't seen before, as if pleasantly overwhelmed with the sensation of servicing you. She's perhaps the cutest you've seen her yet, noisily slurping away on your cocks as her ears slightly wiggle. You give her big ol' nose a friendly boop and chuckle to yourself.

You're getting into it now, so you push harder and deeper as you entangle your digits in the fur on the back of Chryssie's head. Chryssie takes it like a champ, and you groan heedless of who might hear. Your tail slaps her belly with a meaty echo. Every ridge and fold of your cocks is rubbed with warm wetness, then touched by the side of a little fang for an extra thrill. You're spraying precum from two holes like nobody's business, half from the delightful sensations on your horny hemipenes and half from the rush of having Chryssie just how you want her.

Thinking more about that, you get a little more aroused imagining all the other things you could do to her, too.

What do?

• Take both of Chryssie's other holes at the same time

You abruptly withdraw your penes entirely from Chryssie's mouth.

Chryssie blinks as some of her saliva drips from your dicks onto her neck. "What are you doing?" she says, with a note of disappointment.

"I had another fun idea." you say. You lie down on top her, bringing your faces close; your long snout bumps her flat nose. Her broad, squishy body makes for an excellent pillow. You reach down and carefully place one glans at the entrance to the pink and the other at the stink.

"Wow." Chryssie breathes, with a goofy grin, as she realizes what you're about to do.

"That's right, sweetie." you say. You give her a soft kiss, and then you begin.

You've never actually done this before, and it takes a little care to thrust properly so that both cocks travel in and out more-or-less smoothly without you painfully banging against Chryssie's pubic bone or something. But the results are worth it. Her tight little butthole snuggles and chokes your lower dick while your upper dick enjoys the drenched folds of her vagina. You can't decide which is better; fortunately, you don't have to choose.

"Oh, Tony!" Chryssie cries out, her eyes watering. "It's so… much." She's digging her paws into your back as if holding on for dear life.

"Happy to provide." you mutter, and pound away. You grip her belly for leverage and let yourself loose, enjoying and taking full advantage of every inch of her.

"It seems…" she says, struggling for breath, "you've certainly recaptured your zest for life."

"It's easy when… ugh… there's such a wonderful woman worth being zesty for."

"Oh, you flatterer!" says Chryssie, red showing beneath under purple cheeks.

You just close your eyes and exult in the many pleasant feelings. Her musical moans join your lustful grunts while you desperately jam your cocks back and forth through her body. You can't take this much joy for long, but you can't bear to hold back at this point, either. Soon, with a sigh, you release two gifts of warm seed deep inside her. You lie there, on to top of her, in afterglow, feeling more spent and more quietly elated than you have in a long time.

"Well." says Chryssie at length. "That wasn't exactly the treatment I had in mind for you, but I think it was just what I needed."

"You're very welcome, toots." you say, snuggling under her chin.

Who knows whether this fortune-teller, or whatever she is, has anything useful to say? If she doesn't take your money to tell you empty platitudes, then she might foretell some dire future that makes you anxious, or give you bad advice that leads you astray. Besides, it's awfully suspicious that this shop seemingly came out of nowhere. You scoff and walk away. You'll go find some more trustworthy source of career advice.

You have a bad feeling about this. Chryssie is attractive and also touchy-feely, judging from how she already has your paws in hers. She's coming on pretty strong. What if she's some grifter who uses all this sappy spirituality (with a sexy edge) as way to fleece suggestible young men like yourself?

"Maybe another time." you say, pulling back. "I'm not sure I'm up for this, now that I'm thinking about it."

Chryssie is clearly surprised. Her ears droop, and she almost pouts. "Is something wrong?"

Is she going to turn on the waterworks now? You're certainly no less suspicious. "Just changed my mind. Sorry. Have a good day." You make a quick but dignified exit with your wallet intact.

Your mouth feels a little dry. "I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that."

"That's perfectly all right." says Chryssie, and gently releases you. "Otherwise, has this been helpful to you?"

"It's been wonderful." you say, stretching a bit. You can't remember the last time you felt this at ease. "One other thing, though. Can we just cuddle a bit?"

"Oh, of course!" she says, lighting up with cheerful anticipation.

Lying on your side, you face a smiling Chryssie, in just the right position to admire the curves of her side. You draw the soft, fluffy bat into your arms, her head resting on your shoulder. You hold her tightly like a stuffed animal while you feel her stroke your back once more, her warm breasts squished against you. The only sound to be heard is the steady, relaxed breathing of each of you. Your paws roam lazily over her back. You pet her little tuft of a tail, and you reach your own tail around to rest on the plump cushions of her tush.

"How is this?" she whispers at one point.

"It's real nice." you reply.

Are you crying? Yes, you are crying, a little bit. Your eyes are moist. You didn't realize how much you needed this, just lying in another person's arms, a person who, though you've only recently met, has a deep well of affection for those who wander. You pet one of Chryssie's long ears and consider how, in a profound way, you feel grounded. Maybe there's something to her funny mystical methods after all.