Flat as a pancake, Naera thought to herself, flat as a pancake. Indeed, she was low to the ground, flattening her ears against the bottom of the chaise lounger which obscured her from view. Just a little slip up, last time, different format, different location, the old man has the home field advantage, nothing to worry about. But now she'd wised up, utilizing every feature of the unique setting to, once again, give herself the edge. And she couldn't say it didn't work, as a few moments prior, she'd seen Draysil's stomping around in the distance, completely clueless. It was no wonder he was known for 'tutoring' newbie runners, anyone more experienced and the washed-up buck would never have a chance. Unfortunately for him, he was out here with a prodigy. Still, it had been a little while since she'd seen him pass. Naera shimmied herself out from under the chair, looking to set up shop in an even better spot. She'd just gotten herself to one knee when she let out a startled chitter, feeling her body whipped backwards, and rolled onto the top of the chair. Or rather, on top of the mass of muscle and fur which separated her from the surface of the chair. The panicking doe thrashed about, as two arms wrapped themselves around key areas of her form, locking her in place. One reached further down, tearing away her cloth, exposing her most vulnerable point to the powerful and erect masculine flesh jutting up between her legs. Here eyes widened at the sight of it. She shouldn't have been surprised, given her close encounter with the pronounced volume of his ceremonial cloth earlier, but it was another thing entirely to actually see it.
"What's this, Naera? What's going on?" scolded Draysil from over her shoulder, audibly disappointed with her performance so far. "You promised you were going to work harder and yet there you are, crammed halfway underneath this chair as if you've only had a squirrel's tail for a week. I mean seriously, the fact that you somehow didn't get caught in your first two chases is a serious indictment on the bucks of today. If they have any honor at all, then the only other explanation is that they seriously saw no sport in it."
The guy really knows how to rub in it, Naera thought. Figuratively and oh, so literally.
"I even pretended to walk away for a while, see if you at least had the wherewithal to tuck the darn thing in but after a while I just couldn't justify not grabbing you, as easy as you were making it.
So, maybe it wasn't such a great spot.
"I mean, seriously Naera, I want you to tell me, why should we even continue this? Why should I just, you know...push it in right now?"
The urgency of Naera's writhing increased at his words, not that it seemed to be helping.
"I'm not even coming close to subduing you as well as I could. So...why go on?"
"It's just...it's different!" stammered the struggling doe, looking to craft a self-preserving excuse on the fly. "I'm not...used to the resort! I'm used to, you know...the woods!"
"I've had girls with less experience than you do far better in this setting, I'm not sure I buy that excuse."
"Just...gimme one more chance, I'll get it, I'm getting it, I swear!"
Draysil sighed, checking his watch. "Well, every bone in my body is telling me it's pointless but, I guess I'll give you one more shot. Go on, get going."
The old buck took his hands off of the doe, lounging back in the chair as Naera righted herself in his lap, sitting up straighter, seemingly unsure of what to do. Draysil gestured impatiently toward her.
"Well?"
With his imposing penis still rising up between her legs, Naera took the utmost care in planting her paws into the fur on his thighs, and cautiously lifting herself up and away from the danger. She bit her lip at the sensation of his warm and rigid buckhood lightly rubbing against her feminine furs as she rose, careful to avoid any additional contact. As soon as both feet her planted on the ground, she turned and met Draysil's eyes once more, who shrugged his hands at her continued presence. Finally, Naera turned and darted off, as Draysil laid back in the lounger, listening to the sound of her sprinting. At this point, he was in no hurry.