Yes.

You're out of your bedroll in a moment, your arousal leaving you more awake than any coffee ever could. Under normal circumstances you weren't exactly a ninja, Amber often shushed you when traveling and your loud mouth had gotten you into trouble before. But right now? You were shadow incarnate, despite the season and last nights wind, not a leaf stirred as you crept around the sleeping beauty.

You can't help but appreciate the lovely portrait that unfolds before you and it inspires you to one day take up art so that you might preserve it beyond your mortal coil. The innocent foxgirl, **** chest rising and falling, surrounded by the golden leaves of autumn. The color and contrast is so perfect even you can see its perfection.

This entire train of thought was of course derailed by the pillowy fox boobs nearly sliding free of their containment. Maybe if you just reach over, carefully, and-

Amber's eyes open. Your hand is directly over her head, frozen on its intercept course with her wayward clothing. Her eyes travel up your arm to meet your gaze, then flick down to her chest. For a moment nothing but the breeze and rustling of leaves disturbed the scene. Then all hell breaks loose.