You're mind starts to drift much like your body floating in the warm waters of your bathroom sink, basking in the bliss of this calmness and gentle heat over your furry being. You take some notice to your lower half bobbing a bit in the pool as your tail occasionally curls and whips underneath, the water splashing between your legs wetting your dirty petals. The sensation of heat against wet heat reminds you of your earlier issues wanting to be clean of your erotic filth any clinging dirt dragged up from scurrying and rolling along your carpet.
An idle paw leave the sink's rim snaking down your belly reaching for your throbbing treasure. At first; you allow this tease as a means to properly start cleaning yourself off brushing and rubbing at the stained hairs your juices has soaked into. But the longer you tend around that area, the sooner you give into temptation and drop formalities tending instead to the arousal growing once more.
Beady eyes close as you start to moan and squeak struggling to keep yourself hung with one arm, claws grasping at the marble as you start to gradually drift away. You resort to switching between floating on your back to clinging your entire side of your body to the edge of the sink, searching for the best position to continue indulging your newfound sexually lust in the pool. You feel your tail breaking and splashing at the disturbed surface of the waters curling in excitement as you draw closer to the edge in kind.
Thoughts become fevered with fantasies of mating, pairing with partners of either anthropomorphic or feral persuasions. It didn't matter too much which, as long as your mate can make you squeal in lustful elation. It does matter, though, if you should allow yourself to climax again feeling your body grow hotter than the warm waters, muscles twitching and bones aching feeling ready to transform further into your feral state.
Part of you begins to panic worrying about losing yourself again like you fear. The other wants to ignore your fear feeling this is simply instinct to desire to mate, to want your proper frame and fulfill your urges to find a suitable stud and nest. Part of you admits following your instincts feels better, feeling a simple life as a mouse is all you need.
Your forearms and legs throb eager to swell and reform back into animal limbs. Your voice builds ready to squeal. Your mind blanks for but a moment uncertain how to react.