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This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.

*****

Darkness had fallen across the countryside and the absence of bright, city lights allowed the bubble of a world to observe the graceful stars, twinkling cheerily in the galaxy above. The clock in the village, not a great distance away, struck eleven, the chimes ringing out eerily and lingering for longer than was entirely necessary, drawing the indignant hoot of a Barn Owl from his nest. It was only the startling crescent of the solemn moon that bore witness to a slinking, solitary figure that darted in a straight line towards the refurbished farmhouse that the couple, Fyrdrgon and Ropes, called home.

Hiss sighed heavily; there were still lights on in the house, so that meant that one or the other of his parents – or sister, though he worried less about her – was awake and waiting for his return. The young cougar scuffed a foot along the dusty road, dawdling as long as possible, pondering how much easier life would be for him if they still lived in the city, or even somewhere with a larger town within paw’s reach. If that had been the case, he could have said that he was out at a bar or pub for the evening; the village pub was nothing to boast of and the patrons didn’t have anything to speak of that interested Hiss, so any lie involved The White Hart would not be believed.

Unable to delay further, he gathered the scraps of his courage and stalked up to the front door, setting his shoulders and opening it with all the confidence that he could muster. It made an ominous creak as it opened and Hiss winced involuntarily, his two tentacles, which sprouted from his back and were inherited from his demon father, shrinking back instinctively. Like a disgraced cub, he slunk into the living room, finding his mother, Fyr, plaiting his sister’s hair while his twin sat in a straight-backed chair, content at the attention. Mumbling a ‘hello’ and a whispered apology, he made to retreat but was stopped in his tracks, as expected.

“Where’ve you been, Hiss?” Fyrdrgon muttered, flicking her red scaled tail anxiously even as she concentrated on weaving a long plait into Helena’s yellow mane. Hiss’ mind fogged over and he scarcely heard what his mother had to say, too busy was he with taking in her appearance with a sweeping glance, her casual, loose house clothes doing little to hide her crimson figure with a yellow underbelly and sharp stripes. “You missed dinner again. Just where have you been going?”

Hiss coughed lightly into his paw, tentacle tendrils writhing in guilt and anxiety. How could he tell her? He didn’t suppose that there was anything technically wrong in what he was doing, but his mother would never approve. His father, perhaps. He would have to ask his father about it… He surely would have some advice and would not take it badly. Yes, he would tell his father. Fyr stilled suddenly, coming to her own conclusion while Hiss was lost in thought and internal debate.

“Is it a girl?” Fyr chuckled, glancing up, her eyes bright with the thought. She would love if her son had a sweetheart on his arm again.

“Um… Yes, it is a girl,” Hiss confirmed with some relief, though it was only half the truth – Fyr was not to know that.

“So are you going to bring her home for us to meet?” Fyr smirked playfully, throwing a hair tie at his muzzle, which the cougar dodged. “My, my, my little boy all grown up!”

“Mother,” he rolled his eyes dramatically, ignoring Helena’s giggle. “I’ve had girlfriends before.”

Fyr nodded in agreement; she was only teasing her cub, after all. With Helena’s plait complete, she patted her daughter on the head and the dragoness, who was the spitting image of her mother, bar the younger dragoness’ two pairs of breasts (which made clothes shopping an atrocious challenge), leaped up to hug her mother in thanks. Making good his escape, Hiss fled from the room, leaving Fyr with a shower of questions that she wished to pepper him with. His bedroom was a safe haven with a sturdy, little lock, but his beating heart hoped that Fyr would be satisfied with his half-arsed explanation for a little while longer. He sank on to his bed with a groan, the soft, laundered sheets comforting beneath his paws. Turning his muzzle to the side, he nuzzled sleepily into the pillows and almost immediately felt himself beginning to drift off, clothes on and all. But as he was fading into blissful unconsciousness, a stray thought flitted across the forefront of his mind:

Fyr couldn’t know that he was fucking the neighbour just yet.

*

It was with trepidation adequate to his son’s the previous night that Ropes left his home the next morning. Dressed to ward off the morning chill, he cast his eyes warily over the misty esat escort hills, a touch of rain bearing ill on the air. He could not hang around forever though and he padded along the damp road, thankful for the walking boots that protected his hind paws from the elements; he hated to get his feet cold. The cougar sighed heavily, breath rasping in his lungs and pulling his navy coat closer around his broad chest. A small, brown leather handbag swung gaily from his tightly clenched paw.

Why can’t she give the damn bag to her herself? He grumbled, hoping that his claws were scoring holes into the fine leather, sullying it before it would reach her paws. I’ve done a fine good job of avoiding that dragoness since the party – why does all that work have to go to hell now? Damn my wife… And damn that bitch too.

Aeonn, who was to receive the little bag, lived but a short way down the narrow, country road, though Ropes was loathe to see her again. They had engaged in a short but electric liaison together, without Fyr’s knowledge, and had parted on less than friendly terms. Ropes had a nasty feeling that the silver dragoness was planning something because she had been strangely quiet for the past month, avoiding him at every step, which he by far preferred, if he was honest. The incident where Aeonn had asked his wife to pick up a custom leather bag for her upon a trip to the city seemed too much like an excuse than a friendly request. What was so special about a bag? She knew that Fyr was busy working and she also knew that Ropes was free for the majority of the weekdays. It was too perfect. She wanted Ropes for something. But what?

He jumped the fence into Aeonn’s tumble-down garden and rapped his knuckle smartly upon the door, noticing that she was yet to touch up the paint or make any of the improvements that she had had in mind. He smirked at the thought that he had a better, more comfortable home than her and was able to motivate himself to undertake unpleasant tasks. Yes, he thought: he was better than her. When the door opened, he began speaking without the preliminaries, his eyes wandering the hallway somewhere above the dragoness’ blue-haired head.

“Hi, Aeonn,” he said politely, holding the bag up. “Fyr asked me to give this bag to you, something you spoke about. I’m afraid I can’t stay, I really must be quick today. Hope it’s what you wanted.”

The dragoness observed him silently, crossing her arms over her ample chest. For once, she was conservatively dressed in smart, blue jeans and a flowing, white top that draped over her curves, accentuating but not crudely flaunting them. Her breath smelled faintly of mint and Ropes twitched his tail anxiously, wishing that he knew the reason behind her silence.

“I think you should come in for a moment,” she said coolly, drawing a claw-tip delicately along her jaw line.

Ah, there it was.

“And why’s that?” Ropes started, meeting her eyes for the first time that day. “Why should I?”

“Because there’s something you should know.”

He didn’t know whether it was because he really wanted to know whatever it was or whether he was caught up by the dragoness’ allure once more, but Ropes followed her inside, closing the door quietly at his heels. She corralled him into the living room, the fireplace and cream rug just the same as they had been on that first night, drawing on both pleasant and unpleasant memories for the cougar. Aeonn pointed towards the sofa, narrowing her sharp eyes.

“Sit.”

He sat, glancing around the room as if casually searching for an escape route. Why had she picked this room out of all the others in the house? The site of their first illicit liaison? Aeonn was nothing if not deliberate.

“I have something to tell you,” she said evasively, still standing as if to maintain a position above him. Ropes, unconcerned, swished his tail against the sofa, mimed stifling a yawn.

“I suppose you better get on and tell it then,” Ropes sniffed, feeling a glimmer of accomplishment when Aeonn stiffened.

“Have you noticed how your son is coming home late every night now?” She said dangerously, her tone low and serious.

“He’s a young adult, they do that,” Ropes answered casually, shrugging his shoulders. He really didn’t mind Hiss’ late night activities; he was capable of making his own decisions and who was Ropes to interfere in his son’s personal life?

“Oh, I thought you would be more concerned…” Aeonn trailed off, angling her body away with a mock downcast expression, forehead furrowing. “I’ve been seeing a lot of your son lately. Quite a lot. In my home,” she added when it was evident that Ropes did not understand.

His expression became stormy and the cougar half-rose from the sofa, tail lashing like a snake as a furious hiss erupted from his maw. Eyes flashing, Ropes curled his upper lip back and half-crouched, unsure of whether to leap at the dragoness or defend himself as she stared calmly on, a smirk infuriating etimesgut escort him to greater heights.

“What did you just say?” Ropes snarled, flattening his ears to his skull, teeth bared. “You’ve been going out with Hiss? My son? What the hell are you playing at?”

“Oh, I’ve been doing a lot more with Hiss than going out with him, my dear Ropes,” Aeonn giggled, tapping her forefinger against her snout cheekily.

“Stay away from my son,” Ropes growled, the sound deep and threatening while his eyes glowed dangerously.

“And just what you are going to do about it?” Aeonn challenged, standing up tall in response, refusing to show that she was intimidated at all; she had the cougar-demon by the balls and he should know it.

“I’m going to…” He trailed off, realising the situation suddenly.

So this was what she had planned all that time ago. It was obvious – how could he have not seen it before? She would tell Fyrdrgon if he didn’t go along with it and allow her to do as she wished, of course she would. What would the point be in making a big deal of the situation otherwise? Still growling lowly, Ropes straightened up to his full height, a full head and shoulders over the dragoness who was sensible enough to take a cautious step back.

“So what do you want then?” He growled. “Rubbing my muzzle in it – is that part of your fun? If you hurt Hiss, I’ll tear you to shreds.”

“Now, now, kitty,” she laughed wickedly, wagging her finger in his direction when he emitted an involuntary growl. “I merely have a…let us say a ‘proposition’ for you.”

Biting back a sigh – he had no choice in the matter anyway if that was how she was going to play the game – Ropes rubbed his bicep, a wave of tiredness crashing over him and threatening to drag him down into the dragoness’ claws. She waited for a response, unwilling to go on while Ropes was pretending to ignore her, although he strived to regain a calm, unbothered composure.

“Yes?” He snapped at last, unable to wait her out any longer. “What is it?” Aeonn smiled.

“Well, playing with Hiss is fun,” she mused, waving a paw in the air as if she had something else to contemplate. “But I thought to myself – why content myself with one cougar when I could have two?”

“You want me to…what? With Hiss? And you?” He said in shock, blood draining from his muzzle as his skin turned as cold as stone. “Why…what do you want with the both of us? This is insane. You’re insane.”

“I’d think more kindly of the femfur capable of splitting your marriage,” Aeonn widened her eyes suggestively. “Besides…you can’t deny that you’re not even a little interested in carrying this out. I’ve always wanted to see a pair of males go at it. And there’ll be plenty of that.”

Ropes shook his head, though he was unable to vocalise the absolute truth that was in her words. He dropped to the sofa and placed his head in his paws, massaging his temples to soothe the terrible ache there. One thing was sure, whether he liked it or not: he would be taking the manipulative, beautiful dragoness to bed again and, most likely, his son too.

*

The plan was in place: Aeonn had covered every base and perfected every detail, or so she claimed. Ropes was not about to question her, though the thought of the coming day – specifically chosen for a time that Fyr would be meeting friends in the city and would be away for the whole day – drew equal amounts of dread and guilty anticipation from him. Pacing his living room after Fyrdrgon had left, Ropes ruffled the fur on top of his head, arguing with himself why what he was about to do was right and wrong. It was no use to argue against it, he knew that. Better to convince himself that he was doing the right thing and nothing bad would come of it.

A knock on the front door alerted him to Aeonn’s presence and he felt strange that it was her on the outside this time and not him waiting at the step for his temporary partner to approach the peep hole. Setting his shoulders and checking that his clothes were at least somewhat adequate if simple and comfortable, Ropes stalked proudly to the door and pulled it sharply open, nodding his head in acknowledgement.

“Where’s Hiss?” He said indifferently, skipping all sense of politeness.

“He’s fine,” Aeonn murmured, her eyes bright with excitement. “In my kitchen, having breakfast. That boy can eat!”

The sexual overtones in that last utterance were not missed by Ropes and he fought down a snarl, locking it away in a dark corner of his mind for later perusal.

“Well, let’s get on with it then,” he sniped, tossing his keys in one paw and ushering her away from the step. “No sense in delaying.”

“Aw, come on, kitty,” she almost crooned, batting her dark eyelashes like a schoolgirl; she even had a light, accentuating cover of make-up on. Was she trying to impress him? Or Hiss? “Don’t be like that.”

“I’m not like anything,” Ropes snapped, kicking at etlik escort her heels all the way down the garden path and out through the little farm gate that Fyr had begged him to keep.

She chose not to press him further; she was walking on thin ice as it was. The dragoness stepped lightly ahead of Ropes as they walked down the road, her brisk, cheerful pace forcing him to walk more quickly in order to keep up. She was half-forcing him to do a great deal lately. Silence clouded the air between the pair and Ropes walked with his head down and paws thrust deep into his pockets, licking his lips nervously. It was all going horribly wrong and terribly right…

Aeonn grinned widely, showing her bleached white teeth, as they approached the door to her home – how had they reached it so quickly? Swallowing, Ropes shot Aeonn a demonic glare and followed her into the unlocked house, his four tentacles flicking and twitching anxiously, though he tried to keep them calm and moving smoothly. The dragoness grabbed one of his tendrils in her small paw and dragged him down the hall to where he remembered the kitchen was – small and cramped – the cougar wincing from the overly intimate touch. In that kitchen, they found a most startled young cougar.

Hiss dropped the slice of toast that he was holding at the square table – his fourth slice in addition to eggs and bacon, or so Ropes gathered from the remains on the plate. He always ate until his belly was swollen, Ropes thought absently, though his eyes lingered on his son’s topless body for longer than needed.

“Dad?” Hiss blurted, his eyes wide. “What are you doing here? What’s going on? You know? I’m sorry!”

“Calm down, Hiss,” Ropes murmured, wrapping an arm around his son’s shoulders. The young cougar relaxed into the embrace, unable to shake the feeling that he really should be getting his tail beaten. “It’s all okay, I know. I’m the one who should be sorry.”

“Sorry? You?” Hiss blinked. “Why? What for?”

Ropes stepped away awkwardly and looked to Aeonn, begging her with his eyes to explain for him. Ropes genuinely didn’t know the details of what was to happen that day, so he could not answer his sons question truthfully. It was all so confusing. The dragoness, sensing his discomfort, chuckled musically and passed a glass of wine, carefully poured from a half-full bottle, to Hiss who glanced at it doubtfully; he didn’t share the same taste in liquor as Aeonn.

“Isn’t it a bit early for this?” He said curiously, putting it to one side.

“Never too early for a celebration, darling,” she murred softly, dropping a kiss on his forehead. She took her own glass and sipped from it, purring as the warm glow spread through her body, her enthusiasm rising with the taste.

“I’ll pass,” he blushed regardless, as headstrong as ever. “So why are you here, Dad?”

“He’s here to spend some time with us,” Aeonn said gently, watching his reaction.

“What? But we’re home together all the time,” Hiss muttered, working it through in his head. “What do you mean he’s here to…spend time with us? It doesn’t make…”

He trailed off and made an odd sort of choking noise before springing into action.

“Wait!” He yelped, leaping out of his chair and knocking it over backwards. “Is this about what I said that one time? I didn’t mean it! I didn’t think you would tell him! What the hell are you playing at, Aeonn?”

He was unaware that he had mimicked something that his father had said to her only the previous day, but Aeonn flinched as if she had been struck across the muzzle, quick to compose herself.

“It’s absolutely about that, darling,” she said soothingly, wrapping him in her arms and resting her muzzle on his shoulder, nuzzling into his brown-furred neck. “Don’t worry, I’m here. Come on, sugar, let’s have some fun.”

“W-what? Now?” He stuttered, his eyes darting back and for in panic. “Here? With him? What?”

“Of course, now calm down,” Aeonn said firmly, giving Hiss’ rear a firm grope, which he flicked his tail in pleasure at. “Come with me. That means you too,” she added to Ropes who was trying his best to look anywhere but at the ‘happy couple’.

She walked from the kitchen without a second glance. Ropes and Hiss looked at each other guiltily for a moment before trotting in her footsteps, Ropes kicking off his shoes as he went as he supposed that they would only get in the way. Hiss jogged ahead and fixed his eyes on Aeonn’s swaying rump, her tail flicking promiscuously above, deliberate and sensual.

“I’m sorry, Hiss,” Ropes murmured behind Aeonn.

“But what for?” He shot back, panting lightly in unusual eagerness. “I… Well… You heard her. I want this. Kind of. I do!”

Aeonn pulled unbuttoned her blue blouse without delay, tossing it to one side and showing off to the pair of males her lack of a bra. Cupping and hefting her breasts with both paws, she ducked her muzzle down and extended her tongue towards them, scoring a couple of light licks across the upper swells. Hiss watched her intently, transfixed as a bulge began to show in his pants, deliciously easy to excite.

“Come here, Hiss,” Aeonn purred, hooking her fingers beneath the waistband of her shorts. “Won’t you help me with these?”

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