The flirtatious fox hadn’t exactly been subtle about his intentions. I mean, really - a picnic? Now, sat on a blanket with him over a patch of park grass, even that seemed like a poor cover for what he really wanted to do. Not that subtlety had been Gideon’s aim; coming in his briefest shorts, constantly making little tailflicks and looks in your direction. All of it with one aim; get some alone time with you, and make sure you’re as flustered as possible.

It worked. By the time you’re halfway through your sandwich he’s already got your heart rate up, that floaty little feeling in your chest as you look him over. The conversation’s casual, but the sexual tension is enough to suspend a bridge. You chub up in your pants, keeping some self control but quietly ideating all his curves, the shape of his snout, thoughts of pulling his tail and grabbing firm fistfuls of his fur.

What finally breaks that tension is when a red-purple tip squeezes through the rim of his shorts. He hasn’t noticed, but your eyes catch it - and he follows your gaze down, instantly flushing red through his cream cheek fuzz. He’s not prone to being shy, but he still reaches up to grasp his forehead with a bashful ‘ah, look at that…’ expression. You staring only makes it worse, and he cannot stop his dick from squeezing further out of his sheath and into the open.

You’re out in public, but there’s fortunately nobody too close… A couple are slowly walking from afar, though. Gideon gives a cheeky smirk and points toward a set of bushes around a larger tree - you both know what to do without saying anything. Quickly standing, you both hurry over to get cover, ducking behind them.

The instant you’re hidden, all that pent-up-ness comes pouring out. You grab the upper half of Gideon’s rocket, squeezing and pumping, making his dick firm and grow as you tease him up to full mast. He gasps, but he’s not distracted from his target - rummaging with your zipper until your fly’s open, dragging your underwear down to flop your half-hard meat into the air. He doesn’t even take a pause to look at it, immediately burying his face in against it, nuzzling that black nose under your cock’s belly to flop your dick up his muzzle, even as you stiffen and push out a little longer to press against his forehead.

The fox pushes his hands against your hips, resting your back against the base of the tree, relieving your hands of his junk so he can focus on you. He moves his muzz to your crown and starts tentatively lapping his tongue against it, around its top, digging softly behind the head into all your sensitive parts. His muzzle already hangs open, and as he laps down the shaft you found yourself naturally drawn into that soft space, jaws leaning further down your dick until - HOMPH. Closing his mouth around you he suckles down firmly, lips making a nice seal, his teeth felt grazing your shaft but never causing discomfort. Warm air puffs from his nostrils as he works down further, your head sliding against the subtly ridged roof of his mouth, before bumping him in the gullet.

He opens his eyes - he’d had them closed, just soaking in the feel of you - and peers up, a smirk still on the corners of his muzzle. Reaching his arms around you he grabs the tree bark, steadies his lower body, and simply thrusts his head forward, pulling himself down your cock until his face meets your crotch and his snout gently concertinas against it. The feeling makes your knees a little wobbly, not least when you look down to realise he’s completely throated you; his neck bulges where a few inches have slid right down it! Gideon bobs and gulps, suckling down you from his lips to his gullet, absolutely feasting on you.

It’s only when he has to come up for air that you feel him pause, sliiiding back to fill his lungs, panting and huffing. While he’s off you, the fox takes the chance to maneuver the both of you - turning his back to the tree, giving you that same big grin, then pulling you hips-first to plow straight back into his face. He pats your butt a couple times in a very obvious ‘okay, bring it’, pulling your cock back down his gullet in an open invitation to throatfuck him. Bringing your hands to his cheeks, you slide them behind his head and give him exactly what you’re after, pushing to plow your dick into that cute little muzz, working up your energy until you’re fucking him like you’d fuck someone from behind. The durable vulpine’s throat takes it all, slick wet sounds barely escaping his lips, the almost desperate suckling encouraging you on.

Pump, pump, pump, your hands end up sliding behind his head for better grip, and you can just about hear the ‘fp-fp’ below as Gideon jerks himself off, roaming his hands from his tip to his knot base, having unzipped himself at some point. His ears splay, his tongue lolls out to lap against your nuts each time you hammer back in, and his eyes gaze up toward you in a delighted haze, clearly enjoying your taking-of-control far too much. He even manages to sneak a playful whimper out.

Any notion of keeping a lookout for other park-goers has left your heads. All that’s left is the view of this gorgeous little creature between your legs - your fox, for the moment - and the feeling of his throat gratefully gulping and undulating down the upper half of your cock. As you feel his tongue drag against the underside of your sack again, pushing the heavy balls upward, you’re reminded you hadn’t gotten off today, or yesterday… Both this handsome vulpine AND your body have both been conspiring against you.

Finally you grab the tree in a hug, step your legs forward, and CRAM as much into Gideon’s face as will go. He clings onto you similarly, your balls bouncing off his chin, and you can’t help leaning your head toward the sky as your body does the rest; flex, flex, flex, you burst your orgasm into Gideon’s maw in heavy spurts, instantly gulped away. The moment he senses you’re done he rapidly pushes on your waist to clear his airway, grinning stupidly even as he refills his lungs again, then immediately setting about lashing his tongue from the head of your dick to the base, helping clean you up.

You sigh in an afterglow-y trance, the fox looking quite pleased with himself - looking over, you see the conspicuously abandoned picnic blanket, one or two people having peered at it curiously. Time to get your pants back on.

“You could have just asked, y’know…!”