Red Hot Summer (Patreon)

Biscuit knew she was staring, but she couldn’t help it.

It just wasn’t fair.  For fluff’s sake, she wasn’t that much older than Carmen- just a decade and some change!- and they’d both given birth to only one child apiece. And yet, sitting next to the maned wolf, Biscuit felt as though she might as well have been a hundred. A dumpy old whale beached next to a siren. An old maid sitting beside a literal goddess.

It wasn’t fair.

Biscuit swirled her mimosa idly, feeling her eyes begin to wander. Carmen had such a lovely coat color, all fire and heat-it would be incorrect to claim she lit up every room she entered. No, Carmen was light, plain and simple.

But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Carmen is the sun.

Men turned to fools around her, tripping over themselves to greet her, to swing doors open for her. And Biscuit could hardly blame them. She supposed she’d be smitten stupid too were she a man, drinking in Carmen’s impossibly long, curvaceous legs. Such height they gave her! Such grace! And then there was that sleek tail, and her svelte, slender figure, hugged oh-so-wonderfully by her swimsuit. Goodness. Her long, strong limbs, elegant and welcoming and never awkward, and…and then her chest, soft and supple, rising slowly with her breath, pale fur bathed in warm sunlight. Slim shoulders and a swan’s neck, and the face- her face- her face that was looking directly at Biscuit-

“Something on your mind, chica?”

“Oh lordy-!” Biscuit startled half out of her fur, hating that she could feel how red her face was. How long had she been staring??

“Er, no, dear, n-nothing in particular.”

”Just admiring the view then?” Carmen peered over her sunglasses, shooting Biscuit a cheeky wink that was just a bit too knowing.

”Oh! N-no, of course not!” Biscuit hated that she could feel how hot her cheeks were, and she found herself wishing that the sun would be merciful enough to vaporize her on the spot.

She wasn’t- well.

An interest in the fairer sex was all well and good for her daughter Judith, who was more man than she-wolf anyway, but Biscuit…Biscuit wasn’t one of those. She was old-school, as her children would say. Traditional. A good old girl.

Carmen giggled sweetly. ”Relax, mi amor.”

Then she leaned forward.

The movement was sudden, with Carmen leaning nearly out of her chair- bridging the gap between their lawn chairs, outstretching her arm and breaking into Biscuit’s personal space. She was suddenly close, far too close, close enough for Biscuit to see the playful, glinting green eyes behind the dark sheen of her sunglasses, close enough for Biscuit to nearly peer down her bikini top- close enough to feel Carmen’s breath against her face.

Oh sweet merciful heavens.

The older dog sucked in a breath that seemed to shatter in her lungs, every strand of fur standing on edge- as for one terrifying, dazzling second, she was sure Carmen was going to kiss her.

Abruptly, however, the spell broke, and Carmen sunk neatly back into her own chair.

”Silly perrita, I already know I could never steal you away from your darling Bud.” Carmen mused.

Oh right, Biscuit recalled, feebly remembering how to breathe. She was married.

”Buuuuut that doesn’t mean my thieving capacity should be underestimated.” The maned wolf lilted, cheerfully swirling the bright orange contents of her newfound prize. And she began to drink.

The mimosa. Biscuit blinked. Carmen had leaned over to steal her mimosa.

Cheeky wolf.

Still shell-shocked, Biscuit watched the woman sip at her drink, her lips against the very same dripping glass where Biscuit’s mouth had just been- an indirect kiss-

Oh.

She felt a heat bloom in her gut that had nothing to do with the summer sun.

….I think I need to speak with Judith.

~~~~~~

stealth edit: fixed Carmen’s color palette 

a warmup doodle that got a bit out of hand. biscuit has a crush and has no idea what to do with that information