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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.
Our Little Secret
The old barn creaked in the early afternoon sunshine, warm wood expanding and groaning like a creature rising from winter slumber. The red paint was cracked and peeling, though two buckets – woefully inadequate yet a promising gesture – with streaks of crimson rested solemnly beside the double doors, telling a tale of spring cleaning as was apt for the time of year. A short walk away from the dilapidated barn was the farmhouse, which was as picturesque as a country cottage could be, complete with a neat, white fence and well tended garden. Of the four inhabitants of the house at least one had the green finger touch, and she made sure that not a soul disturbed her blooming flowers or vegetables in the back allotment. The barn, however, was beyond the rein of that particular commanding officer. If she had known a fraction of the happenings of that barn, on the other paw, her intrigue may have been perked to dangerous heights. A breeze rustled dead leaves across the stony path and, within the barn, a dragoness giggled.
Housing only two permanent occupants, the barn was vastly spacious, the two mares stabled beside one another by the double doors for companionship and proximity to the open air. Snorting and stamping, they were more than aware of proceedings as a low chorus of pants and moans steadily rose in pitch and timbre. One mare, a palomino, craned her head inquisitively over the half-door, neck arched beautifully as she stretched into the aisle. A pair of slim, dark-blue jeans lay crumpled on a square of straw, which was neatly wrapped in orange twine, tossed aside in the throes of passion.
The dragoness in question sprawled on top of a tan horse rug, cushioned by a deep bed of straw. Her legs spread obscenely wide, wrapped around the head of a cougar who had his tongue buried in her dripping pussy. The rough appendage stroked and rubbed as he purred, sending tremors of pleasure into her nether regions, and the red dragoness twisted lustfully, eyes lidded. When she arched and shrieked through ecstasy, wings extending on either side of her body, the cougar leapt to his hind paws, licking her juices from his muzzle with a long, pink tongue. He grinned widely, showing a flash of sharp, feral teeth, and dove on top of the dragoness, paws caressing her black stripes with the finesse of a long-time lover, four tentacles undulating upon his back. Without any sense of hesitation, he lined up his throbbing cock with her scaled pussy and buried himself inside with a feline yowl.
The female beneath him bucked wildly through the throes of orgasm, each subsequent thrust forcing the breath from her lungs as the cougar pounded her like a male too long denied. Grunting, he crushed his lips passionately to hers and shared his partner’s moans, driving both to greater heights. His uncut cock drove deep into her cunny while his flexible tentacles curled around to stroke and tease the dragoness’ four, full breasts, drawing her nipples into taut peaks. Telling a tale of much teasing and foreplay, the cougar’s thrusts quickened, the slap of hips striking scales shockingly audible in the quiet barn with only the feral creatures to bear witness. His back hunched as he fought to hold back the pleasure for a few seconds longer, but he could not deny the lusts of his earthly form. He flew over the edge with a shudder that ran through his whole body, growling into his partner’s mouth as he ground deeper, wanting more even as it was willingly given. Breaking the kiss, the cougar’s tongue lolled from his muzzle and he moaned loudly, paws squeezing the dragoness closer as each thrust shot a fresh spurt of virile seed into her snatch. The dragoness rocked her muzzle back, eyes blissfully closed: he had already fucked her through her second climax of that session.
Collapsing over his partner, the demon cougar gasped for breath and snaked one tentacle around to caress the dragon’s cheek, lips breathily parted in the afterglow. Watching unobserved, a crow in the rafters tilted his head and cawed once, taking flight in a clatter of ungainly wings as he left a loose feather to drift down on to the panting, squirming couple. The dragoness half opened a single eye, watched the crow’s progress and slumped back into the straw, raising a pair of shaky paws to stroke down the cougar’s strong back. He purred under her ministrations, propping himself up on one arm so that he could bathe her narrow snout with his tongue.
Breathing as one, the couple was reluctant to break the silence, meeting each other’s eyes and then sliding their gaze away in the next instant like a pair of shy schoolchildren. Eventually, the cougar took a deep breath, bostancı escort bayan inhaling the scent of sex, straw and the dragoness’ tantalising perfume, and stroked her shoulder with just the tips of his fingers. His lips brushed over her neck and she groaned lightly, tilting her muzzle away.
“We can’t stay in here for much longer, Hel,” Ropes murmured to the dragoness, breath tickling her ear.
Though she was long an adult, Helena did her best impression of a hatchling that had been told she could not have her favourite treat, widening her eyes appealingly.
“You know why.” He nudged her side. “Fyr will be home soon and she’ll expect to see you cleaned up, perhaps getting some housework done.”
“That’s just a ploy to get me to clean the kitchen and you know it.”
Ropes laughed throatily.
“Maybe so,” he conceded, ever the good-natured fur. “But Fyr did ask you to do it. And the kitchen is an absolute tip.”
“That’s not fair.” Helena sat up, pushing Ropes back somewhat, though he still rested over her, pale eyes unblinking. “What are you going to do?”
“Continue fixing up the barn of course.” He answered so smoothly that it was as if he had rehearsed the answer. “That’s what I was doing in here before my daughter so deviously interrupted me. It was most rude.”
“Hardly heard you complaining,” Helena smirked.
“Come on.” Ropes slipped on to his hind paws and offered the dragoness a paw that she gladly took, allowing him to pull her upright. “There’ll be more where that came from next time Fyrdrgon goes away.”
He looked the dragoness over hungrily, wishing as much as she that his wife was expected back later from shopping that day. It would have made for the perfect evening to spend it ravishing his daughter, muscles sore from the day of work and lusts repeatedly sated. Helena grumbled under her breath as she gathered up her clothes and the cougar could not help but follow the hypnotising sway of her tail, curling to the side as if she was deliberately showing off her curvaceous rump. The cougar shook his head: she was such a distraction. Yet an exceptionally good distraction.
As if sensing his momentary weakness, Helena turned slowly, arms overflowing with every article of clothing that Ropes had torn off what seemed too short a time ago. The dragoness posed seductively, the curve of her body too sensual to be an accident as she raked her eyes over his form with the hunger of a true predator. She had the appetite of her father, that much could be said.
“You know…there is still some time.” She traced the tip of her tongue across her lower lip, tail arched wickedly.
It was tempting, almost too tempting. It would be too easy to just…no. Too late, too risky. Ropes shook himself. Shivering, the cougar forced a fixed grin on to his muzzle and darted forward, dropping a single kiss on the tip of the dragoness’ surprised nose.
“Get going!” Ropes laughed, a tentacle cheekily swatting the red dragons rump with a resounding smack. “Fyr will be back soon. No amount of charm is going to work this time, so get to it, darling.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she muttered, casting a wistful look back to the squares of straw. “Not for a while though…”
“A short while,” Ropes said firmly. “Get cleaned up, honey.”
His tone left no question in the matter and, despite an inward groan, Helena put a smile on her muzzle and blew her father a kiss. As much as she didn’t like it, there would be other instances to spend ‘special’ time together. The striped dragoness hummed a tune to herself and bounced into the afternoon sunlight, cum dripping down the insides of her thighs.
“Aren’t you meeting today Leah, mom?” Helena asked for the umpteenth time.
A few days after the barn incident, the dragoness could not sit still. The itch in her loins could not be quelled by any manner of toy or even her tail shoved into her slit; she ached for the demon cougar’s touch, his tentacles and his rough tongue upon her scales. She danced from hind paw to paw in the kitchen while her mother pottered about, a beige handbag slung over the back of one of the kitchen chairs at the side of the square table. She was supposed to have been out hours ago! The younger dragoness paced, taking three steps and whipping about to repeat the action as her mother, almost the spitting image beside their respective breasts, shook her head slowly.
“Anyone would think you’re trying to get rid of me,” Fyr said, more concerned with the plants on the kitchen windowsill than her daughter’s queries. “As it is, I won’t be going out today after all.”
“What? Why?” The dragoness stifled a yelp.
Fyr studied her, turning her back to the sink; a couple of loose, pink petals lay cupped in her paw.
“If you must know,” she said, tone stiff, “Leah’s not feeling very well today.”
“Oh…oh, I’m sorry,” Helena tried to backtrack, offering her ümraniye escort mother what she hoped was an appeasing smile. “I hope she feels better soon.”
Huffing snappishly through her nostrils, Fyr turned back to her plants, the tip of her tail twitching in midair. Only somewhat pacified, the older dragon filled a small plastic jug to the halfway point with water, carefully topping up her charges until the soil stank richly. Helena, however, could not allow the matter to drop. Plonking herself into a chair at the table, she sighed loudly enough for Fyr to half-turn her head in an instant reaction. Neither spoke for several minutes, though Helena fidgeted, fingers pressed together with her thumbs chasing one after the other: Fyr hated when she twiddled her thumbs.
She could not remain silent.
“But I thought you were going to Ann Winters?” Helena interrupted the peace.
Freezing, Fyr glanced first one way and then the other, even her anxious tail stilling. If Helena had not been so pent up, her mother’s reaction would have been more comical. As it was, the dragoness was forced to swallow the bubble of a giggle
“Helena.” Fyrdgon finally settled for rolling her eyes and pressing a paw to her forehead in a no more dramatic fashion than her adult daughter. “That is not the sort of discussion that I would like to have with my daughter.”
Helena’s tail curled around the leg of the chair, holding in her mirth through sheer will. She was annoyed, true, but a little payback would hurt no one.
“So formal,” Helena teased as a smile pulled at her lips. “Why, you already had ‘the talk’ with me! What am I to say if you want to dress up and look pretty like that!”
The younger dragoness bit back a grin, nipping the inside of her cheek as Fyr turned a deeper shade of red. Sometimes it was just too easy to irk her mother to heights at which her scales flushed, yellow taking on a decidedly orange tinge. Did her father ever make her blush like that, she wondered? It was no matter. Helena shook herself: her mind wandering even as Fyrdrgon continued to splutter like a kettle boiling over. Shooting her mother a cheesy, winning smile, the dragoness bounced on the balls of her feet.
“Aw, mom, don’t be like that, you know I’m just being…y’know.” The dragoness waved her paw vaguely, already tired of the interaction and squirming from renewed arousal. Why were treacherous thoughts so easy to come by? That did matter. She licked her lips.
“Besides,” Helena added, pretending an afterthought as she rested a finger contemplatively against her chin. “Ann Winters is the only place that does bras that fit me!”
That broke Fyr and her crimson poker face cracked into an indecisive smile, her whole muzzle lighting up from the mere act. A dragoness with four breasts did indeed find it difficult to purchase undergarments, that much was irrefutable! Helena found herself smiling in reply, matching her mother’s reluctant mirth with her own, and was struck with the sudden urge to pull her into her arms. Fyr did not smile as much as she used to. It was a simple pleasure indeed to see her smiling, so much so that it even served to briefly distract Hel from more carnal delights. But only briefly. The younger dragoness cursed herself under her breath and rubbed her forearm, claws tracing over the scale patterns found there. Was it right, what she was doing? What would Fyr have said if she had known?
“Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to pop out,” Fyr mused, startling Hel from her leap of conflict. “Now that you so kindly mention it, I could do with some new…things.”
And doubt was forgotten. Excitement stirred in the pit of Helena’s belly and her tail twitched like that of her feline father, the predator in her sensing the moment to pounce and not look back. She took a deep breath, paws trembling lightly.
“Well…why not?” The dragoness half-shrugged, a lazy smile quirking across her lips. “Jokes aside, it can’t do any harm, can it? You deserve something nice, mom. You spend money on us but never you. Go on.”
Fyr leaned forward on her forearms, resting her weight on one of the bare kitchen units that had previously been covered with dishes (a ‘cooking’ experiment of Hiss’ gone wrong, to put it kindly). From the garden, birdsong drifted through the window panes, obscenely beautiful to the dragoness holding her breath. A thrush? A robin? She had no ear for feathered music and understood why she was concerned over the type of bird that was singing even less. Her scales itched and she shifted her weight constantly, fighting not to look at her mother who followed the younger’s every motion, eyes alight with a mother’s amusement. Something in Helena’s chest tightened and she stood up tall, tugging down her shirt where it had risen to show a sliver of toned stomach. As if she was no longer interested, Hel pushed one of the dining chairs in further, scraping the linoleum, and made as if to kartal escort leave the room.
“Tomorrow,” Fyr bobbed her muzzle decisively. “Tomorrow, I will go. It’s got on too much for me.”
Helena near smacked her palm into her face, catching herself just as her paw twitched upward. Would she ever get time alone with Ropes? The situation was becoming…ridiculous. Breathing slowly and deeply, the younger dragoness glanced down at her bare hind paws before daring to meet her mother’s eyes with the calmest gaze she could muster.
“That’s great,” she smiled wanly. “Give me a shout if you need a paw with anything…okay?”
She needed more than a paw with her own activities, but that could remain unsaid in her mother’s presence. Flicking the tip of her tail in a draconian farewell, Helena slipped into the hallway without allowing her mother the chance to reply. Slumping against the wall, Hel exhaled the breath she had been holding, wings drooping on either side of her body as if her very form was visibly deflating. Why couldn’t Fyr just leave? The dragon had admitted that she wanted to go out! Her mother was too much of a homebody…and Helena was so horny. Groaning quietly, she thrust a paw into her jeans and panties, just to find the flimsy material soaked through and her sex tingling under the lightest of touches. Viscous juices clung to her fingers when she withdrew them and Hel guiltily shoved the digits into her muzzle, licking and sucking her nectar until nothing remained. Caught in the moment, she lapped and slurped lewdly, curling her flexible tongue around each finger even after all remaining traces of her juices had been lapped up. Reduced to a gentle pant, the dragoness whimpered and nuzzled at her fingertips, seeking more even as she forgot the source in sheer, horny need. If only her fingers could become her father’s shaft as she suckled, the moment would have been perfect.
Knowing her mother was around the corner, busying herself with pots and pans as she so often did, Helena wormed her fingers back between her legs. Her folds dripped as her legs eased apart and she pushed her hips out from the wall, lips parting in a silent moan. Flinging her free arm wide, she clung on to the wall as if for life itself and drove her fingers deep into her pussy, forcing her juices out around the digits with a grunt of effort. Again and again her fingers sank into her hungry sex, demanding relief that could never be quite achieved alone. Though able to restrain her groans of erotic ecstasy, the dragoness dug her claws into the wall, leaving in her wake deep scratches that would be rediscovered at another time.
“Something on your mind there, darling?”
Helena leapt away from the wall, scales tingling. Adrenaline coursed through her nerves and it took her a few desperate seconds of her heart pounding against her ribcage for her to realise that a cougar smirked a pace from her and not a dragon. The scent of her sex hung heavy in the air and Helena snaked her tongue out, moistening her upper lip as if to taste it. Her eyes dropped instinctively to the obvious bulge in her father’s jeans, the cougar clearly enjoying the sight of her masturbating so fervently. He raised an eyebrow and the dragoness snapped back into action.
“Dad?” Helena’s breath caught and she launched herself bodily into the cougar’s arms, hissing as quietly as she was able. “Fuck me! I know you want it as much as I do! Who cares that Fyr’s here? She’ll never know. Oh, please, please, just take me, I can’t -“
The cougar clapped his paw over her lips, eyes darting to the open doorway. Fyr hummed in the kitchen and Helena growled under his paw, eyes flashing. The cougar shook his head slowly as if he was trying to rid himself of some annoyance buzzing around his ears. His ears slanted to either side as his tail lashed repeatedly, pulling Helena further down the hall out of range of Fyr’s, so far, oblivious hearing. Sensing his unrest, the dragoness squirmed and dug her claws into her father’s arm, claws biting through fur to cut flesh. Ropes shuddered and swallowed the flare of pain, a tentacle winding around to remove Helena’s paw firmly from his forearm. Wriggling like a demon, she hardly seemed to notice his rebuff and bared her teeth savagely.
“Hel, shush,” Ropes fought to soothe her, tightening his arms about her waist. “We can’t now, shush, Fyr will hear you.”
It felt like he was stating the obvious but it pulled Helena from her lust-crazed trance. The dragoness rocked on her heels, pulling away from his body even as the cougar’s arms cautiously restrained her, the demon’s eyes ever-wary. She blinked and exhaled slowly.
“Just fuck me already.” She repeated once more, slumping all the same defeated in his arms, hair hanging over her face. “I can’t fucking hold it back anymore. I need it, dad, I just do!”
Her voice rose with that final word, forcing Ropes to step back, shaking his head. Standing as tall as she was able, Helena folded her arms and curled her tail about her leg, meeting her father’s gaze with a defiant glare. The cougar’s tentacles drooped and he dipped his muzzle, pale eyes holding his daughter’s gaze without blinking, as unswayable as his decision.
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