The fox leads you along what is probably an animal trail for a while. You follow, following it easily even in the dimness of moonlight filtered through over-hanging trees, by the bright white tip of its brush-like tail. Once it twice it pauses when it gets too far ahead, turning to look at you, and you see light reflecing from its eyes. You are intrigued -- entranced almost. Where is this cunning little beast taking you?
You follow that waving white patch faithfully, as if it were a beacon of salvation. As you do you find yourself admiring the animal. Its lithe, delicate grace as it pads silently ahead; its coat, beautiful and stirking even with the colours muted by darkness. Suddenly however the fox slips to the side, and giving you one last, piercing look, disappears into the undergrowth at the side of the trail with a rustle.
"Fox?" you call softly, only to be answered by further rustling. You think maybe you see a flash of white fur amongst the denser shadows. But your hesitation is brief; you are too engrossed in the creature to stop now. You follow it off the trail, forging through the fallen leaves and small plants around the roots of the trees.
Finally you break through a wall of tangled brush and vines into a clearing, lit brightly by the moon And you stop, stunned. There is the fox, sitting on an old fallen log. But he is no longer just a fox.
Now he is a fox-man -- a tall, sleek hybrid of humanoid and vulpine; with sharp, intelligent muzzle, black pointed ears, and large fluffy tail, and also a handsome, manly body. Clad only in his white and red fur, he seems to glow in the moonlight -- almost as if he is the source of the light in the clearing. He is trim but muscular, his abs and pecs outlined by the moonlight in his white front.
And stark against those white-furred washboard ab rises his cock; long, fat, swelling and tapering like a rocket up from two large bulbs at the base; dark red, glistening, and powerful. Below it, a hand-filling white sack fills the space between his spread legs, two large orbs faintly outlined as they bulge against their soft covering.
The image is burned into your mind, and you still see that erect cock as your eyes meet his. Golden, luminous, fiery; gashed by the black ellipses of her pupils. You almost feel yourself sinking into them, like a molten ocean; your surprise and fear ebbing away, leaving only fascination with the enchanting gaze. And still the afterimage of his maleness lingers, a dark red obelisk looming behind the sea of gold.
"I've been waiting for you." His voice is soft, yet clear in the stillness of night; smooth yet burning, a hot liquor flowing through your ears into your brain. Your body thrills, and your own cock hardens in your pants even as the rational part of your brain becomes aware that something dangerous is happening.