Tuesday, July 09, 2013

TEA! AND COOKIES! AND MORE TEA!

He was big and manly and intelligent and kind. And covered with sharp spikes. She really really liked the big manly intelligent kind qualities, but the spikes were a problem.
They were very sharp.

One cannot hug a hedgehog.

She wanted to touch him, running her fingers through his soft soft belly hair. But she knew that being sexually forward might cause him to instinctively curl up into a ball. Then there were those spikes.

She took another sip of her delicious hot beverage and contemplatively munched her cookie. He always provided such nice cookies! Strange that a hedgehog knew exactly what a squirrel liked. Walnut - almond - chocolate chip. And pecan brickle crunch. Peanut gobblers. Chestnut macaroons. Hazelnut puree rolls. Coconut macadamia dark chocolate.
He always surprised her.

She really wanted to jump his bones and make him squeal. But again, those spikes. It remained a quandary.
Munch. Sip. Munch.

The possibility that she might never rub up against his hot handsome body and squeak in pleasure, till they both fell asleep exhausted after fireworks, depressed and saddened her. What a horrible conception!
Dammit he was hot! There had to be a chance! There just had to!

Meanwhile there was tea, and there were cookies.

If she continued having nothing but tea and cookies, she feared that she would bloat up. Then, when finally something lascivious happened, she'd prick herself on one of his sharp spikes and explode!
She resolved to control herself. Tea and cookies in moderation.
And a careful approach to the naughty business.
Nothing too outrageous.
Yet.

When she moved in with him, they would probably need separate beds. If he tossed and turned in his sleep, or simply rolled over, he would draw blood. How on earth did hedgehogs EVER have sex? It seemed an impossible situation, and she was baffled that they weren't endangered. There had to be a trick to it.

An additional problem with hedgehogs shifting while asleep is that they inevitably they would end up 'hogging' all the covers. She'd seen what happened when little hedgehogs played in the forest. They rolled down the slope gathering leaves, till at last they seemed more vegetable than animal. Their mothers had to spend hours removing the crap.
Very patient women, those female hedgehogs.

As a squirrel, she knew she wasn't supposed to be seeing anything but other squirrels. But her mister hedgehog was such an enchanting personality, and so charmingly hospitable. She just could not resist coming over for tea and cookies. And his company was a joy, he told witty stories, and had experienced so much in his life already. Yes, he was indeed quite a bit older than her - and that also was something that would shock her peers -- but it was first and foremost the miscegenistic aspects that would cause the most negative commentary.
Hedgehogs and squirrels should not date.
But of course they do.

Tea and cookies. Lots of tea and cookies. Sometimes very careful handholding, but almost no other physical contact of any kind.
So, an awful lot of tea and cookies.

It was frustrating, and she always ended up wired to the eyebrows, with her bushy tail completely rigid. She seriously wanted to wrap it around him during hot passionate love-making, but the Velcro-effect of fur versus spikes would be a disaster.
It might even rip out whole handfuls, and leave reddish patches.
Tail-baldness was something all squirrels feared.
And she was especially pleased with hers.
It was fluffy! And so very soft!
Her lovely tail was sexy!
Looking good, girl!
Danged fine.


Perhaps they could spoon. There were no spikes on his front, just that lovely pale stomach fur. Which, she could see, was soft and silky. Spooning could easily lead to much more, and his little sensitive black forepaws could stroke her all over. It would take a bit of co-ordination, as well as pre-planning the time and place. But it could work!
Just fantasizing about it made her blush.
Had he noticed?

The only problem with the relationship, from her point of view, was not what her family would say, nor the disapproving glances of other forest creatures, nor even the possibility of bearing young. She knew they wouldn't have sharp spikes for at least several months after birth. And she'd cross that bridge when she -- when they -- came to it. Heck, if they resembled their father, they would have the cutest little noses, all pointy and whiskered, and his twinkling eyes.
Again, none of these was an issue.

Hedgehogs are extremely attractive to dust-bunnies.

She bitterly resented their attention.


Tea. And another cookie.

More tea.




==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================

12 comments:

Anonymous said...

Apparently porcupines urinate on each other to soften the quills before getting down.

Its San Francisco. You could try. Its perfectly acceptable what two consenting mammals do in the privacy of their underground burrow or hollow tree....

The back of the hill said...

I think squirrels object to that kind of behavior. It probably dampens their enthusiasm considerably.
It is, as it were, a raining on the parade.
Plus it casts a pall (or something) over the tea and cookies. Mmmm, delicious, yummy, nutty cookies!

Maybe these two should just stick with the tea and cookies.

Cookies!

Softly, softly said...

I have it on good authority that love in San Francisco frequently involves spikes. Big butch males covered in spikes.

Yowza.

Anonymous said...

Spikes. Black leather. Feathered headresses.
Yes. I have distinct memories of all this from the Folsom street fair. They haunt my subconscience, and as hard as I try I can't surpress them.
Cookies.
Think of cookies.

The back of the hill said...

Indeed, I am thinking of cookies right now.

I often think of cookies.


Mmmm, cookies!

Sigmund Freud said...

Sometimes a cookie is just a cookie.

Anonymous said...

Blimey you're a frikking pervert!

The back of the hill said...

Yes, yes I am. Wanna know what I'm wearing right now?
Hmmm?


































Pants!

Anonymous said...

You're still a frikking pervert.

The back of the hill said...

Yes.

and I wear fur.

So there.

Anonymous said...

A fabulous furry pervert?

The back of the hill said...

Yes.

Search This Blog

THE PRICE OF EGGS

Despite the pervasive gloom in Democratic circles, and the giddy intoxicated optimism in the Republican, neo-Nazi, Fascist, and Authoritaria...