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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.
Cuckolded by Her Mother
“You could help, you know.”
Fyr scowled at her husband, who wasn’t doing a very good job of being her husband, as he lounged on a bale of straw, hind paws kicked up and tail curling and uncurling gently. The very picture of feline relaxation, the cougar yawned and stretched, each one of his tentacles flexing as if they too had become stiff as he took a typical cat nap.
Early afternoon, Fyr had been hard at work in the barn for a few hours, sweat and grime marring her scales, and the crimson dragon wiped the back of her paw across her forehead, grimacing at the smear of dirt she added to her face. How very fetching indeed.
Ropes yawned again, straining his jaws extra wide as if for good measure, and eyed her up and down, paws back behind his head. She threw him a dirty look, the row of stalls to her back finally done up and finished as good as they could ever be. They’d do for the horses, but the cattle shed round the back of the barn was next on her list. And the hay loft needed looking at, cleaning out even if there was not much work to do in the name of “fixing up” there. The foundations of the house were going down, done by a professional company, but the interior, once the walls were up was all hers to get done and a daunting job indeed.
Fyr gulped and tucked her tail down to her backside, wings shuffling anxiously against her back. It was a big job. Each of the jobs were big jobs. But she had to come through with them. If not for her, for her family.
And the baby. Of course, for the soon to be hatchling, still warm and safe in her mother’s belly.
“Well, I’m bored.”
The cougar was hardly to be believed at times, but no other jibe could have chased away her worries with any more swiftness. Fyr put her paws on her hips, setting aside the broom.
“You’ve left all the heavy work to me! No wonder you’re bored!”
Ropes smirked and raised an eyebrow, one tentacle raised alongside his head as if to punctuate his point like the targeted jab of a fingertip.
“But you look so good with your muscles working,” he purred, eyes half-lidded. “I wouldn’t want to disturb such a fine, strong dragoness now, would I?”
She wanted to be angry. There were so very many things that she should have been angry with his about. Sleeping with her mother by no means the least of them. The amount of work he’d left her to do on the ranch and even preparing their own house, inhabitable for the moment, for the youngster’s arrival was another. Leaving her with the chores was one more.
And yet she still liked it. It gave her a little thrum of deeply rooted satisfaction each and every time she did something for the leaders in the relationship, caring for Ropes and Sasha not because they needed her to but because they could have her and it was her place to care for them. Both were stronger than her, that much was certain, and both had a hold over her that she couldn’t explain if asked to depict their relationship in a clear, simple, straightforward manner. For there was nothing straightforward about it, but there was everything wonderful about it.
Maybe that was all she needed to know.
Fyr hunched her shoulders and pretended affront, bustling off to what would become the feed storage room. She rattled and clanged the large, metal bins about to make her point and indignation clear, though there was a smile on her smile and a hum behind every soft exhalation from her lips. The feed bins were a mess and she pursed her lips, imagining just how all of them would fit into the room. The cattle would require an automatic feeder, of course, for the sheer number they would surely end up housing. Everything in the designated feed room would have to be for the horses and all livestock other than the cattle, though she still didn’t know the extent of that. Dry dog food could live in there too, as there was no sense in having that stinking up the house or even just the kitchen. Hay could be thrown down from the loft: that was an easy question to answer as she planned out her future life.
“Saying the word doesn’t make you huffy, dear.”
Leaning against the frame of the door, Ropes smirked and her heart flipped over. How did he still manage to do that to her after all their time together? And he still moved like a ghost, stalking her through the barn as if she was his prey.
The dragoness shivered. Oh, that wasn’t a bad thought at all. She didn’t mind being stalked by her sexy husband in the slightest. Only he had a more challenging chase of a pregnant dragoness to occupy him at that time, which she didn’t mind either. It was exciting to watch too and, well, the force and brutality of their crudely Niğde Escort lustful lovemaking didn’t seem like it would leave her body in one piece either if he had taken more of an interest in her.
Fyr shook herself. Had he said something else? Ropes eyed her expectantly, dark lips curving up in a smile.
“Didn’t catch a word of that, did you?”
It was so like their old dynamic that Fyr had to blink and take a second look at him, tongue-tied and as hopelessly in love as she’d ever been. A sunbeam slanted through the rafters from the skylight, dust motes swirling in the golden shaft. She smiled like a love-struck teenager.
“I don’t have to when I’m looking at you.”
Yes, it was sappy and, yes, it was completely and utterly over the top sweet, but it was her and she wasn’t going to need to be anyone else but who she was once the office job was good and done with and she had her perfect life on the ranch come to fruition. Ropes purred, tail flicking as he rocked back on his heels. She had to focus and focus hard too to stop her eyes from dropping to the soft but noticeable bulge in the front of his jeans. The dragoness could not have failed to notice, as in tune with the needs of her partners as she was those days, that the demon cougar had taken to wearing tighter and tighter trousers and jeans. Although she was also sure that it wasn’t her he was showing off to, for there could be no doubt as to the success of his actions with the frequency that Sasha took or had him take her, depending on her mood. Her mother, after all, had found an appetite for experimentation and a rather vivacious lust for thrusts that could slam her whole body into the wall.
Fyr shook her head, the fingers of one paw pressed to her temples. It was too easy to become distracted thinking of the two of them, the heat in her lower abdomen an ever-present ache.
“You still left me with all the work,” she mumbled, although her voice lacked conviction, the words automatic because she knew that they were the ones that she “should” say. “You should have helped me.”
Ropes’ eyes softened at the corners, a crease that she had not noticed before smoothing from his forehead.
“I will help you. Both of us will help you.”
Her shoulders sagged, Fyr herself shocked by how much relief seeped through her at those few words alone. Had she really needed to hear that? Ropes was moving closer though and she had to pull herself together, resting a paw on one of the shakier feed bins – probably not the best choice for something to steady herself – for he was almost upon her, comforting warmth emanating from his fur and waving tentacles.
“Come here. It’s not so bad. Look at how much you’ve done already. We’re very proud of you, Fyr, for everything you’ve done and everything you will do.”
And then he was up, an arm sliding around her waist as he pulled her to him. Without thinking, she leaned her head on the cougar’s familiar shoulder, his warmth and weight comforting. Everything could have been just as it was if she closed her eyes and thought back. Plans for the ranch were going ahead, their plot of land taking shape as something that could soon be a business and a home.
Except, it was not the same. Her eyes snapped open and Fyr sighed. And it never would be again.
But that was what she wanted, wasn’t it?
Oh, she shouldn’t have been questioning that. But where was the line between a blissful fantasy and a reality that went too far? Did she even have the standing to draw the line anymore? And, terrifyingly, did she even want the standing to draw the line? Did she want that taken from her?
Question after question pounded the inside of her skull and she pressed her muzzle into the crook of the cougar’s neck, hiding away from them. She was safe with him. That’s all she had to know. That’s all she had to do – stay with her lover, her leader and her demon. They would see her right, she was sure of it. She just had to trust in them and everything would be alright, continue to be all as it should have been.
Ropes nuzzled the top of her head, running a tentacle down the middle of her back.
“Let’s go home. We’ve been away a while now and you must be as hungry for the dinner you’re going to cook as I am!”
He chuckled and she flushed pink, cheeks warm beneath her scales. There was nothing like a quick quip to remind her just where her place was. And she had that dinner planned out already too.
“Yes, we should really be hurrying back now. I’m sure you’re missing Sasha,” she said quickly, licking her lips worriedly. “I’m sorry I kept you away so long.”
Ropes smiled and dropped a kiss on her forehead.
“It’s no bother. You’re my wife too, you know.”
Her heart warmed and Fyr followed him from the barn like a puppy, tools left out for the next day she would have free to continue work on what she could do while professionals took care of the rest.
He’d said she was his wife. She was his wife too. Both Niğde Escort Bayan of them. Fyr hid her smile behind her paw, eyes wandering her husband’s strong shoulders and firm backside as he paced ahead of her, heading for the rusty old pick-up that was still serving them well, refusing to choke and die. She’d be sad when that old thing conked out, truly. But there’d be new life and something new to come, in more ways than one.
Yes, she could very much be happy with being the second wife, the beta wife. Incredibly so, in fact.
She stopped dead in her tracks as the cougar went round to the driver’s side of the truck, the keys somehow in his paw. Fyr patted her pocket and gave a little murmur as she found them gone – well, of course, they were gone, they were in Ropes’ paw! But how had he gotten them there?
As if it was the most normal thing in the world for him to drive – after Fyr had been chauffeuring him and Sasha around for the last few months – he slid into the driver’s seat, the truck rumbling to life around him. Fyr stared, lower jaw ever so slightly dropped to a degree that could still, at a stretch, be considered ladylike.
“What are you doing?”
Ropes winked and blew her a kiss, gesturing with one of his tentacles for her to join him in the truck.
“A little treat… You sit back and relax and let me do the driving.”
On one hand, she thought he must have just been bored with sitting in the passenger seat without Sasha to entertain him. On the other, it would be nice to be chauffeured around herself, treated as she deserved to be treated.
She smiled. He loved her. He definitely still loved her.
Had she really ever had any doubt in that?
Fyr pushed that question from her mind. It shouldn’t have crossed her thoughts and the notion of having to reassure herself stirred unease in the pit of her stomach. But it did, most often in the dark of the night. As the truck moved off, she wrapped her arms around her torso, scales dull and expressionless as she warded herself against a cold that wasn’t truly there.
She didn’t have many friends. With how busy her life had become since moving into that little first home with Ropes, she hadn’t really made much of an effort. And times had only become more hectic, preparing for the baby, as the two of them demanded more and more of her time – which she gave freely and willingly, of course, before they’d even asked for it. It made her happy to do so; it was as simple as that. But she was under no illusion at all that others would not see it in quite the same light.
No, they would see it as abusive; there was no question about that. And the liaison with her mother… Fyr blushed and hoped Ropes wouldn’t notice. That one went without saying. There was something dark and twisted about it, yet even that excited her, called her in like a siren’s song. What else could she have expected from a demon? A friend back then, a curious-faced wren by the name of Silon, had warned her about getting with Ropes, but back then it had just been a fling, a one night stand and a hook-up that she never expected to blossom into more, so very much more.
The dragoness frowned minutely, fingers tapping and dancing across her thigh. It had become more. Did it matter that it wasn’t conventional? Had she ever wanted anything conventional? She imagined the judging eyes on her when she was in the restaurant with Ropes and her mother, people knowing without being told just what was going on, her dirty little secret.
She fought back the urge to hang her head; now that would get Ropes questioning her, despite his distraction (justified) of late. Nobody would understand just what she got out of that, that deeply rooted, heated pleasure she got from serving the two of them. If her mother had never gone after Ropes, perhaps she would never have uncovered it. And yet she had and it had become an addiction, something she could not imagine living without.
Yet… She nibbled the inside of her lip, keeping her eyes steadfastly fixed on the road ahead. Ropes was a good driver, a smooth driver, and even the rattling old truck purred under his direction. She was a wife too and she needed what a wife needed, that closeness with her life partner, the husband she had pledged herself to. That was something that had to be acknowledged alongside her lustful little – well, not so much little – addiction. The lack of control rendered her powerless, stealing what normal furs so readily took for granted. And she wanted to give it up, just not all the time.
So why couldn’t she take back some of that control for herself? Would it really be that difficult?
A plan, or at least the beginnings of one, drifted to the forefront of her mind. It was as if it had been there all along, her subconscious only waiting for her to reach the point where said plan would, finally, be rendered useful. Digging her fingers into the rough grain of the seat, Fyr tugged at the seat belt, testing just how far it would let her stretch. Not quite far Escort Niğde enough… That was easily fixed.
Sweetness dripped from her tone like the pet name she gave him and Ropes’ tail twitched as he flicked one ear in her direction.
“I miss you.”
“Miss me? Fyr, I’m right here. How could you possibly miss me?”
Ah, if only he knew. But that was just why she was there to show him.
Leaning over, she ran her paw down his chest as the cougar rumbled a purr, tail swiping across the handbrake as she took advantage of his position and toyed with his belt, a determined gleam in her eye.
“A wife needs to be taken care of too, husband of mine.”
And, before the cougar could even begin to formulate a reply, she had her paw in his lap, snagging his belt loose with such a deft flick of her paw that it could not have possibly been practised. No, it was remembered skill and remembered sweet times in his old car beneath the stars. Not that Ropes had not been able to afford a better car, he just had a particular liking for the old rust buckets, even if she had seen him eyeing up some sleeker faster models of late. Some things would change and one of those things was their relationship, but she still had a paw and a say in the matter and, well, her needs had come to slightly different ends of late too.
The cougar hissed, lips pulling back lightly, sensually, from his teeth, as she freed his cock, the shaft already hardening as if his body knew and understood what was happening and coming before his mind had even caught up to her. His paws tightened their grip unconsciously on the steering wheel, tail lashing fervently against his legs in the foot well. Fyr only giggled like a teenager all over again and curled her fingers familiarly around it, breath catching at just how swiftly he throbbed and swelled into her hold, the uncut length clearly yearning for her as much as she’d been yearning for it.
“Oh my…” She murmured, fluttering her eyelashes coyly. “Have you been saving all this up for me, big boy?”
Ropes blinked and chuffed a laugh, though the slight raise to his hackles betrayed his true need, lust rising to the surface as irrevocably as the sun would continue to rise over the far-off hills each and every day.
“Fyr…” His voice came out hoarse and raspy, that shade of desire that made her heart jump and leap about like a caged beast, clamouring to be let out even as the bars kept it safe. “I haven’t heard you say something that cheesy in years…”
“Well, get used to it, darling, because this time is just for you and me.”
And it was, even if she’d never set out to do what had happened so naturally on the drive to or from the barn. She could have had Ropes at any time while they were off on their own, but it just hadn’t felt right. She would have been taking him from Sasha – how could she do that? But the driving time was time that would have otherwise been dead if not for the conversation ebbing and flowing sweetly between them and, well; it was as good an excuse as any. Fyr shivered. Sasha may punish her later for taking her husband, but any cock under her tail or wicked device – the older dragoness had certainly discovered a lust for experimentation, it had to be said – would be worth the precious moments spent.
And she intended to leave him spent. Time seemed to stretch out as she dipped her muzzle to his cock, parting her lips to take him in deep right up to the back of her throat. Ropes moaned and she giggled around his cock, tail flicking as she bobbed her head slowly and sensually, letting her tongue curl around and drag up his shaft each and every time she drew her head back. He was little more than putty in her paws as she did everything to him that she’d dreamed off since their time together, at least of the personally intimate kind, had been cut terribly short. Of course, she couldn’t climb into his lap to really feel him inside her, but having his thickness forcing her to purse her lips into a lewd ‘O’ of desire was a close second in the game of desire her heart played.
Oh, it was every bit as good and delectable as she’d dreamed it would be, watching lustfully as Sasha had what she craved again and again. Her saliva provided the perfect natural lubrication for her to give him the best blowjob of his life – at least, that was just what she was aiming for. Fyr moaned like a cheap whore, playing up her part, as she bobbed her head, increasing the pace in time with the shift and grind of her husband’s hips. He must have been aching to thrust up into her muzzle, but, unfortunately, the road kept his attention, at least to a certain point.
Hind paws flexing on the pedals, even through the sensible durability and tough outer of his work boots, Ropes growled and shook his head, a shudder rippling through his whole body as his cock drooled pre-cum onto his wife’s tongue. It was a treat that she eagerly gulped down, groaning around him as her back tried to arch, lifting her tail for the cock that was in her mouth and for an entirely different purpose in that moment. As much as she wanted to feel him inside her again, she would have to settle for the blowjob and take all she could, as lovingly as she could, while the time was theirs and theirs alone.
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