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 I've always had a love of animals, ever since I was a kid; it's probably why I
got into the field of biology in the first place.  I took a special
fancy to cats; I could marvel at their power and stealth, chuckle at their
mischievious playfulness, and hope to have their sense of plucky curiosity.
Though I know now they're not just all fun and games, I still can't think that
they're just a wonderful creature all around.

        While in college, studying for my degree in biology, with my specialty
in animal behavior, I decided to write my thesis paper on the social behavior
of tigers. In doing so, I was invited with my professor to go to the institute
in New Delhi to study tigers first-hand.  I was amazed at the offer; I was
finally going to see those wonderful creatures up so close I could reach out
and touch them.  The plane ride was full of the usual custom checks and
passports and luggage x-rays, but aside from that, getting to India was a
smooth ride.  Once in New Delhi, we were introduced to our two mahaouts (the
Indian equivalent of a native guide),  prepared our supplies, and made our way
into the jungle the next day.

        After several days of travel into the more heavily forested brushlands
of India, the mahaouts told us that were getting close to tiger territory, and
that it would be best to set camp here.  In our studies, it was important that
we did not alert the tigers of our presence; to do this, we made use of a
"masking scent" so that we could come in close without the tigers suddenly
catching us downwind.  Also, trash was kept strictly inside the camp; anything
we produced had to either be scattered in a large radius around the campsite
or kept well within the borders.  This also meant that simple things like
going to the bathroom had to be done well away from camp.

        Having settled in, I decided it about time to start researching. I was
not too far away when I noticed my first up-front tiger.  It was a tigress,
which I named Amber (for her eyes).  She was a large female, sleek but muscled,
with a lean look only constant exercise and good meals can provide.  Her coat
was of a dull orange, with jet-black stripes running from her back all the way
around her stomach, ending in a splash of white down her belly.  As it was,
she didn't have the traditional pouch associated with having given several
births; she must have still been fairly young as tigers go, maybe three or
four years old.
        Just watching her movements were like fluid sweeps of power, smooth but
well-defined; just her walk was the kind of ballet only cats can create.  For
the next couple of days, I would just sit, watching her move with the beauty
of an athlete and the grace of a ballet dancer.  She had an air of confidence,
telling all around that she was here and was not to be taken lightly, for in
the back of my mind I had to remind myself that for all that beauty there
still is a beast.

        Finally, after about two weeks, I got a break; Amber was prowling about
as she usually did when another tiger, a young male, came up to her.  He began
nuzzling and rubbing up against her, as if to get more friendly, and I
realized that he was trying to instigate the beginnings of the mating rituals.
Amber, however, was not impressed, turning herself face-to-face with the male
and eyeing him warningly.  He was persistent, and stepped up his provocations.
This only set to annoy Amber, who turned and cuffed him over the face,
growling as she did so.  Needless to say, the male left with little more than
a parting swat from Amber.

        As time went on, it became obvious to me that Amber was in fact the
leader of a group of tigers in the area, for two other males tried to initiate
mating with her, only to be welcomed with swats and cuffs on the face from
Amber.  It was no wonder she walked so confidently; she was a queen when it
came to this group of tigers, and no one dared to challenge her.  I couldn't
believe the luck I had stumbled into; I had a prime example of the social
structure of an entire group of tigers, and I could study the leader; I was
very thankful of the masking scents we developed to allow us to move without a
noticable scent throughout the forest, though I could swear at times that they
knew we were there and merely ignored us.

        As luck had it, mine petered out a short time later.  I was writing out
one of my journal entries and found I had to go to the bathroom.  As per rules
I had to find a decently distant spot and let it go there.  So, after some
hiking through the woods, I found a convenient clearing and began to urinate.
Unfortunately for me, the clearing didn't get any clearer; as I was urinating
on the nearby tree, I sensed something behind me.  I looked behind me...and
Amber looked straight back. Okay, stay calm, I tried to think to myself, and
found it was much easier to relieve myself at this point.  Hoping that if I
ignore her, she will not attack, I promptly finished, and left with a slow but
deliberate gait; I hoped that if I showed no fear, she wouldn't think I was
fleeing, and consequently would not attack.  Having fled the clearing, I
circled around to see what she was doing at this point.  What I saw came as a
surprise--she was sniffing the tree, as if to catch the scent of what I was
doing there.  It wasn't until I got back to camp that I realized the
significance of this; most animals, in order to mark territories, will spray
the trees with their urine, using their own unique scent to mark their
boundaries.  She must of thought I was marking my boundaries, and invariably
sniffed the area to see where the boundaries were.
        I decided to try and play this out further. I returned to the clearing,
making sure to scent other trees in the nearby area.  And without fail, Amber
would come around and sniff the trees once again, sensing where I had set my
boundaries.  For all intents and purposes, I had just become another tiger in
the group, and this allowed for some incredible viewing.  It was getting to
the point that I was just a few feet from Amber; if I reached out my hand I
could almost touch her.  It was the most exciting time in my life.

        Then, a fateful day came into my life.  I had decided to do some night
watching, for tigers were active in the night as well as the day, and this
would lend more insight as to how they interacted.  The moon was full and it
was warm--optimum conditions for watching.  I snuck over to the observing place
I had made in my "territory", a bush I had hollowed out some, so that I could
see behind the cover of the bushes. but not be seen by anyone inside the
clearing.  After about two hours of waiting, Amber came around in her usual
pattern, sniffing the trees and establishing where this territory covered.  If
I had been smart enough to get a camera with a night lens, I would have come
back with some of the most brilliant photos I'd ever seen; she was looking
incredible in the moonlight, the light shining off her coat with a dull gleam
as she swished and padded her way, lingering from tree to tree, sniffing them
over.

        My legs were beginning to cramp from two hours of controlled movement,
and as I stepped back to shift position, I made the first cardinal sin of
observation; never step without looking first.  My foot hit the log I was
using to help better hide my back from the other side of the forest, and
slipped forwards, sending me flying right through the bush with a loud rustling
noise.  Amber immediately flicked her ears in the direction of the noise and
swung around to see what it was.  Lying on the ground, I stayed stone-still,
hoping to rely on the fact that tigers rely on smell much more than they do on
sight.  She came over and stopped directly next to the bush, and, bending her
head down, proceeded to sniff at me.  I was praying to God that if I was going
to die, I wanted it over quick.

        Having completed her scenting, she looked up, looked back down at me...
and rubbed her muzzle across my face, purring quietly as she did so.  I was
taken back at this, and was even more surprised when she did it again.  This
wasn't what I expected from Amber; I was expecting a slash across my face that
would easily shred it to ribbons.  Amber suddenly turned away, walked a couple
of steps, and stopped holding her tail out high and straight.  What my mind in
a whirl I realized what was now happening; she was giving me the appropriate
response to the beginning of mating!  Now I was positive that she thought that
I was just another tiger, but the fact that she wanted me to mate with her was
mind-blowing.  Thoughts were racing, causing my mind to swim.

        It didn't swim for very long, for Amber turned back and gave me a swat
on the face; she wasn't clawing me, but the force of the blow was enough to
shake my mind loose and snap it into focus.  She became more insistent, rubbing
more roughly against my face and purring even louder.  I realized I had to do
something, for she wasn't going to let me just walk away without giving her
what she wants.  Again she turned away, holding her tail up in enticement.

        It was then that I decided--if I was going to get out of this, I would
have to go through with it all the way.  I began to pull off my shorts and
briefs, hoping that this wouldn't startle Amber into doing something violent.
But with my clothes off, I suddenly realized it was probably going to be nearly
impossible to get an erection while you're scared to death.  Amber turned back
again, sensing something, and began nuzzling my entire body, working her way
from my legs up to my face.  With my clothes off, I was amazed at the softness
of Amber's fur; for a perfect piece of camouflage, it has the feel of a fine
fur coat, soft and sleek and sensual.  The feeling was intense, and with it my
fear started to ebb slightly.  My mind started to relax to this new concept;
Amber was trying to be affectionate, and what's wrong with liking it?  Sure
you're not a tiger, but that doesn't mean the experience would be unpleasant,
would it? How can you tell unless you know for sure?

        With that I felt my erection start rising, and I tried to be reciprocal
with the nuzzling, rubbing my face against her muzzle.  Her purring continued
to increase, as well as my erection, and it was a short time before I was ready
to do what was necessary.  Sensing this, Amber turned and presented herself
once more, tail standing straight and high.  I squatted behind her, trying to
find the easiest way to enter her.  It's now or never, I thought, as I placed
the head of my penis against her vulva and, gripping her back, pressed
forward.

        Amber growled slightly at the penetration but didn't budge forward; in
fact, she braced her back feet, pushing herself back and completely engulfing
my penis.  The sensation of being inside Amber was a shock, as a feeling of
intense emotion rushed through my body.  Gripping onto her flanks, I began
rocking slightly, pumping in and out of her as gently as I could.  Amber's
purring was loud and throaty, and her ears flicked back in a sign of complete
emotion.  I began pumping a little harder, with the feeling inside me
beginning to grow; I was beginning to WANT to mate Amber, to make her feel
good, as she had deemed only I could.  Amber's purrs turned to growls as her
body tightened up on my penis, and as I felt the beginnings of her orgasm
coming on, she reared back her head and cut loose a proud, savage roar.  I
continued to mate her, the emotion starting to overcome any fears I had about
Amber, and I came with a savage frenzy of thrusts into her, pumping into her
with all my strength.

        Having finished, Amber lay down where she was, flopped over on her side
and promptly started to lightly doze, purring all the while.  I got dressed and
snuck away quietly, my mind reeling at the events of the night.  I continued
to watch Amber, and on another moonlit night not long after, I mated with
Amber again, and it surprised how much that savage creature was so tender to
another being.  Her caresses and nuzzlings were that of a love that I have yet
to find again.
        There is a common joke that goes with the teller asking "What loves
like a tiger and winks?", with which the request prods the teller of the joke
to wink.  I think I'm entitled to tell that joke now....
