Okay, so this... was intended to be a one-shot at the time of writing, but if it's received well there are other places this fic can go, so I guess we'll see.

Would love some constructive criticism to guide me along. I haven't written many lemons before.

Here for the action? Ship down to the bold warning to find the beginning.

Chapter 1: Sweet Release

Deep within the Great Forest nestles Knothole, previously a stronghold against the Eggman Empire and home to the Freedom Fighters of Mobius. For almost two decades, the village stood strong in the face of tyranny, a last hope to those Mobians who remained free of Eggman's reign. Now it serves simply as a village, home to those who wished to remain once the threat had passed - a vista of calm and tranquillity while the rest of Mobius once again bustles with life and attempts to restore lost traditions.

For many, leaving Knothole was impossible. Indeed, for those who had grown up within the wooded oasis, the bustle of towns and cities that sprung up or revitalised in the wake of Eggman's defeat was stifling. Beyond that, the way of life was entirely different; money had to be made, provisions bought from markets, taxes and bills paid on properties.

To the heroes of old, it was suffocating. As such, they remained in Knothole.

As this story beings, we arrive in Knothole in the wee hours of the morning. The homes within are dark and silent, their owners sleeping through a heavy spring storm that deluges the settlement. A flash of lightning illuminates the houses in an eerie glow moments before a crash of thunder rolls through the air, the heavy rain pummelling thatched roofs and pouring down gutters, turning the surrounding grassland to muddy slush.

EXPLICIT CONTENT BEYOND THIS POINT

Despite the hour, there is one resident awake, but the storm is not to blame. On the contrary, she is grateful for the pounding of rain and crashes of thunder, for they disguise the whimpers and moans that escape her lips as she pleasures herself in the darkness.

Amy shivers as un-gloved fingers slick with her own vaginal juices swirl and tease her clitoris, while others curl and rub deep within her, warmth coursing through her veins as she masturbates. She groans and arches her back when skilled fingers dig into her sweet spot, unable to swallow the sound before it escapes her lips, her need for release growing as she stimulates herself closer to climax.

She does not need to imagine explicit scenarios to encourage her pleasure. It is mating season; her body was taunt with the desire to breed long before this moment. For days she had been barely able to prevent herself from cornering Knuckles in a quiet place and attempting to initiate a furious round of love-making, desperate for release from the hormones that ravaged her system, overwhelmed with the need to be filled by someone - anyone - regardless of if she cared for them or not.

"Aah!" the exclamation is louder than she intended, the tips of her ears flushing the same deep red as her cheeks as she rubs her clitoris more frantically, so much so it borders on pain. She's close, and she can sense it, her stomach tightening simply at the realisation she will soon be in the throes of bliss caused by her own hand.

She is oblivious to the storm outside, entirely focused on her own body, thrusting three fingers into her tight pussy with a ferocity she was previously she possessed. Her hips buck to meet her thrusts in an attempt to deepen their penetration, waves of pleasure causing the pink hedgehog to squirm and gasp as the tension within her builds.

By this point, she can smell her own excretions, and it's driving her crazy. Pheromone-laced sweat coats her naked body, dampening her fur, while the scent of the thick, white liquid leaking from her vaginal lips adds a musky scent to the room. She squeezes her eyes shut and begins to pant, throwing her head back onto her pillow, unable to prevent the gasps of bliss that escape from her mouth as she feels an orgasm coming, the fire within her about to peak.

A whimper, and her body shudders. Her walls contract rhythmically around her fingers as wave after wave of pure ecstasy cascade through her body, dulling every other sense and clouding her mind in hormonal fog. Hips jolt and tremble as she continues to thrust into herself, the action harder to maintain as she rides out her third orgasm of the night. Her clitoris is painfully sensitive while she continues to abuse it, though she savours the peculiar combination of pain and pleasure as she slowly begins to come down from the high, mouth still agape.

Finally, she is still, her body spent for the time being.

She breathes deeply with an arm across her eyes, the other hand positioned to cup herself between the legs, the warm sensation there a reminder of the pleasure she was previously consumed by. Slowly, she once more becomes aware of the rain beating down on the roof, silently thanking Mother Mobius for the gift that allowed her to finally dispel much of the pent up discomfort she had endured for the last few days.

"Oh, sweet Chaos," she whispers, bathing in her afterglow, the hand cupping herself gently stroking the flushed, sensitive lips below them. The action is unconscious, her body aware she has yet to be filled with the sperm of a male, encouraging her to fulfill the desire rather than give herself release.

With a gentle sigh, she rolls over and pulls her blankets up to her chin, nuzzling into her pillow as if it were the chest of a suitor. She ignores the ache that has begun once again in her groin, hoping she has done enough to allow herself some sleep tonight.

Respite from the heat coursing through her body would become harder to achieve with every day now. Nature was attempting to overpower her higher thought processes and force her to find a mate for the season. She had been resistant so far, but only three days into the torture and weeks left to maintain her sanity, Amy honestly couldn't see herself ending this year without an urchin of her own to care for.

That meant she had an important decision to make, one she thought she had already knew the answer to, at least until mating season had begun. She allowed a single question to circle in her mind as sleep finally took her, plunging her into a fitful, feverish sleep that would leave her equally exhausted as she felt now.

Who would make the best mate?