Cuckolded by Her Mother: Chapter 10
#10 of Cuckolded by her Mother
Valentine's Day is for husbands and wives, right? Not so for this kinky threesome...!
A pleasure to write and wickedly devious! Thoroughly enjoyed pulling this one together, it practically writes itself! <3
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Story © Amethyst Mare / Arian Mabe
Characters © Fyrdrgon
Cuckolded by Her Mother
Chapter Ten
Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)
Commissioned by Fyrdgon
_ _
Fyr woke slowly, the cushion on the sofa digging uncomfortably into the back of her neck. Light slanted across her muzzle and she groaned, rolling away from it as if she could ward off the morning. But the day had to come, whether she wanted it to or not.
Sleep was not to be had for a busy dragoness, after all.
Eyes half-closed, she grumbled as she got up, stretching her arms above her head as the woven blanket fell from her body, revealing her nudity. But she barely took note of it as she traipsed upstairs to the bathroom, entering the family one and not the en-suite that used to be attached to her bedroom.
The dragoness winced. Well, it was what used to be her bathroom. She supposed it was for Ropes and her mother now. Her chest warmed. But they would make better use of it than her, she was sure. She'd have to put a waterfall shower head in there for them at some point, just to make it all the more pleasant. They could take something like that along with them when they moved to the ranch, since the ranch needed the house building first before they could even contemplate settling there permanently.
She didn't see either her husband or her mother as she went about her morning routine and didn't hear from them either until a text from Sasha popped up on her phone at midday. The beep startled her out of a daze at her desk, fumbling in her bag for her phone while the lioness over the cubicle wall in the open-plan office scowled and rolled her eyes. Fyr resisted the urge to shoot a snarky comment her way, tail twitching and curling like that of an annoyed feline. She'd picked up more than one habit from her husband during the time they'd been together, it had to be said.
Let her grumble. The dragoness rubbed her forearm and opened the text message.
Happy Valentine's Day, sugar.
_ _
Fyr's eyes snapped to the calendar. The date had snuck up on her again, although it had never been one of particular note to her; Ropes hated Valentine's Day, preferring to express his lust in rather a more carnal fashion than sappy sweet love and romance. Cute teddies and the like were not the sort of thing Fyr would have chosen to adorn the bedroom cabinets with either, even if she wouldn't have said no to a touch more romance if so given the opportunity to woo and be wooed.
"Ahem."
Fyr ignored her, sitting back in her computer chair, hind paws swinging lightly from side to side, freed from her heels. What did it mean that she'd received a Valentine's Day text from her mother and not her husband? Was that what she was supposed to expect now? The chair squeaked and she rested her chin on her paw, murmuring softly to herself as she tried to work it through in her head.
"I'm trying to work over here, you know."
The lioness glared at her. Susan, was it? Fyr raised an eyebrow.
"Yes?"
"Perhaps you should do the same. You seem to have so much free time over there." She looked pointedly at the phone in the dragon's paw, whiskers quivering triumphantly. "Some of us are actually _working_for our pay slips here."
The feline could not have put more frost into her words if she'd tried. In another time, Fyr would have snarled to herself about the exchange and ranted at Ropes, cursing her inability to make a stand against another colleague who thought they could dictate what the quiet, focused dragoness did with her work on a daily basis. She'd always been quiet, afraid to speak up when she was given work that wasn't hers to do, and the others in the office
She was sure she'd become a bit of a joke.
Fyr took a breath. Time for that to change.
"I have been working, although it is strange for you to insinuate otherwise. The report you needed from me, by the way, is in your inbox."
Susan's jaw dropped and she growled in the back of her throat as Fyr stood. The dragoness smiled prettily, though its warmth didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Susan, I am taking my break now. Would you mind listening out for my phone? I shan't be long."
The lioness' eyes widened further still, as if threatening to pop out of her head, and her tail thumped against the leg of her desk.
"We don't get breaks here!" She snapped. "Sit down or I'll tell Johanna!"
Fyr had to force down the urge to roll her eyes. That wasn't the impression she wanted to give. But did the lioness really think she could control her so easily? Was that really how she'd behaved for all her time in the office?
Well, that wasn't how it was going to be anymore.
As if watching a stronger, more confident version of herself through a glass screen, Fyr smiled and tapped the side of her muzzle.
"It's in the contract - an unpaid break of fifteen minutes, to be taken before noon, Monday to Friday. I'm happy to show you, when I get back, and I'm sure our supervisor will be pleased to know that state working regulations regarding breaks are being maintained in the office too."
"But I'll tell Johanna!"
The lioness called after her, but Fyr was already retreating, a tune on her lips and a spring in her step. The dragoness' tail swung lightly with every step, a band that she had not acknowledged loosening from around her chest.
"That's nice. Also, we're not hatchlings or cubs here, Susan."
What repercussion could come from simply stating the facts? She knew others took their breaks and it was only her that felt as if she had to be in her desk at all times. She supposed furs did like to band together and bully, where they could. It was, unfortunately, the way of it.
No, nothing bad would come from doing what she should have done a long, long time ago. The dragoness smiled. The supervisor - the new vixen, at least - wasn't one she had anything to worry about with. No, the ball was well and truly in Fyr's court. And it was time to play the game she'd been missing out on for far too long.
Perching on the edge of a chair in the break room, she unwrapped a blueberry muffin, licking her lips all the while. Yes, it was definitely time for a treat. She didn't get many treats those days. Only then did she open the text again, fingers tapping a reply that suited her mood.
Happy Valentine's to you too, mom! Would you two like to go out to dinner tonight? It'll be my treat.
_ _
xxx
_ _
She smiled and sat back, thoughtfully chewing on her treat. There, that was the right thing to do. She had to treat her family right, didn't she? And Valentine's Day was for everyone, regardless of how their relationships worked, whether they were conventional or something a little more...alluring. Fyr shivered.
The phone beeped and she grabbed for it, wings trying to flare out.
Darling, we'll be taking you_out and it'll be_ our treat. Nothing less for my daughter!
_ _
Well! The tables had turned indeed! Fyr grinned and wagged her tail. What could any polite dragoness do but accept such a kind offer? She had been working very, very hard lately, after all. Tossing a piece of muffin, laden with plump blueberries, up in the air, she caught it in her mouth with a pleased celebratory snap of her jaws.
Perhaps things were looking up after all!
*
"Sugar, you look lovely tonight."
Nervously, Fyr smiled, a twitchy, awkward kind of smile, and smoothed down her dress. Black with red roses delicately patterned over the fabric, the dress clung to her without showing off unduly, ideal for an evening meal even if Fyr had toyed with the idea of wearing the blue one that showed off rather more cleavage. In the back of her mind, she hadn't wanted to upstage her mother and had instead gone for the dress that hugged her figure better, putting her in the shadow, but a very good, tasteful shadow nonetheless.
"You think so? I haven't worn anything like this in..."
She trailed off with a half-shrug, laughing quietly at herself. Dresses weren't usual attire when she had so much to do, although it wasn't as if she objected to wearing them. On the contrary, she shook her hips just a little more to make the light skirt waft around her legs, feeling more intrinsically feminine than she had in a very long time.
Sasha cast her a distracted look, her own smile fleeting.
"Yes, I know."
Fyr took a step back, wrapping her arms around her torso. Oh, how silly she was, pestering her mother to let her know how she looked in her dress like a hatchling out to dinner with family! Or worse, a teenager primping and preening before the mirror for a drake that was never going to notice her anyway. Blushing, the dragoness looked down at her shoes. They were very nice shoes too, complete with diamante straps and with heels that had her practically walking on her toes. She hoped she wouldn't be walking very far in them that night.
Fixing her earrings in the mirror, Sasha clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, eyelashes curled and thick with tastefully applied mascara. Fyr shivered. Her mother could have been a seductress in her own right, but the slinky, turquoise number she'd donned both hid her belly bump and set off the deep hue of her scales, shimmering like the depths of the ocean.
"It's a good thing we booked early, isn't it, dear? It's going to be packed tonight, but the Italian place that Dina recommended to me is apparently divine, it's not worth missing."
Fyr had opened her mouth to reply when Ropes cut across her; she hadn't even known the cougar was there.
"Undoubtedly," he said smoothly, brushing past Fyr to wind a familiar arm around Sasha's waist. "And it'll be all the better for your company."
Nuzzling into the dragoness' neck, Ropes purred, his lover giggling. Politely, Fyr folded her paws in front of her stomach, waiting on them. She was happy enough that they were including her in their evening without pushing for more attention and the kiss they shared was so full of love that she could not help but smile as her husband took her mother's paw.
It's as if they were meant to be together.
_ _
And, if so, she was happy that they were happy - truly. As long as they allowed her to stay around to share in that happiness too.
Clicking over the stone path outside, a tiny garden for a terraced house that she could not wait to abandon, she followed them out to Ropes' car - something he'd gotten through work that may not have been his usual choice of wheels, but could not have suited his new lifestyle more appropriately. A Jaguar - Fyr didn't know the model, being more of a truck-dragon herself - with sleek lines beckoned them in and Ropes dropped lightly into the driver's seat, letting his tentacles hang over the headrest.
For a moment, Fyr wished she was the one sitting in the passenger side, but obediently slipped in the back and took her mother's handbag too, setting both in her lap for the ride.
And the restaurant was every bit as beautiful as her mother's friend had promised, decorated with real vines that lent an earthy, natural air to the room without being gaudy. The tables were a rich wood that had to have been imported and Fyr blushed as she was seated by her husband, the cougar drawing the chair back for her in a most gentlemanly fashion. Of course, he seated Sasha first, the dragoness trailing her paw across the front of his smart black trousers as she settled herself in.
"This is a really nice place," Fyr murmured, eyes downcast. "I'm really thankful the two of you brought me here."
Her words sounded false and wooden, although she did really mean it. The restaurant_was_ a very nice place, just the kind of place that she would have wanted to go out to, if she'd been alone with Ropes. Being a third wheel as Sasha rested her elbows on the table and batted her eyelashes at Ropes, however, was not what she'd originally had in mind.
It was a different kind of pleasure altogether.
When the waiter came to take their drinks order, Ropes ordered for her, tucking the beverage menu back into its stand with a pleasant smile. He'd donned contact lenses to go out and tucked his tentacles down inside his shirt, so, to any casual onlooker, he could have passed for a typical American fur out for dinner with his wife and her mother.
Fyr shivered. That was if others knew Sasha was her mother. She cast her eyes about suspiciously, sipping from the Peroni bottle clasped in her paw as if someone or something was about to catch her unawares. What would it look like, from the outside? But it was a question that she already knew the answer to, loins tightening as she sat back and tried to paste a blank yet politely friendly expression on her muzzle.
"Ropes, darling..." Sasha purred, taking his paw. "You really do choose the best places to take me."
Ropes raised an eyebrow.
"My dear, was it not yourself that suggested this place? I was merely the one who made the booking."
"As I said," she murmured, eyes dancing, "you have excellent taste. In both food and dragonesses."
Fyr shivered. It was as if she wasn't even there. And, as far as personal tastes went, it seemed that he no longer had any taste for her.
But why did that have to go and make her feel so damned good? A bad kind of a good or a good kind of bad, but still - good. It was good. Fyr cursed herself. The word was starting to get on her nerves just a little bit.
They conversed without her. She didn't need to be there and yet she was thankful that she still was, a part of their lives, but not quite in the thick of it, where the crux of their beings lay. Ropes and Sasha sipped at their wine as they went over the menu, deliberating between choices while Fyr mused over her own, trying to keep her focus from wavering.
Sasha's tail moved beneath the table, brushing Fyr's leg. The dragoness started, about to ask what she was doing, and the answer immediately became obvious as the cougar began purring, whiskers twitching as something very intimate took place in the middle of a pleasantly full restaurant.
Although she couldn't see what was happening beneath the table - well, not unless she wanted to draw attention to them by poking her head under the long, flowing tablecloth - the little smirk on Sasha's face and how Ropes' whiskers twitched. She could imagine her mother's tail pressing into his crotch, trailing down his leg just to tease before tickling its tantalising way back up again.
It was Fyr who had to suppress a moan as Sasha threw her a knowing look, the suggestion of a smile pulling at her lips.
"Looks like someone would have preferred dinner at home tonight..." She growled softly, claws digging into the table as if readying herself - for what, however, Fyr could not know. "A little more privacy goes a long way, doesn't it, dear?"
Caught by her charms, Ropes nodded helplessly, though happily, tentacles twitching and squirming beneath his shirt; he leaned back in his seat hastily to keep them in check. It didn't matter too much if they were on show, but it tended to make others uncomfortable if they did not know what they were beforehand, so he did his best to hide them, except when another kind of mood took him.
Fyr hid a grin of her own. When that mood was out to play, all bets were off.
But Sasha didn't let up on the cougar, making him lean harder and harder back into his chair in a futile effort to keep his tentacles in check. Fyr shuddered, half-closing her eyes as if her mother's tail was caressing her thigh and pressing up oh so wonderfully between her legs. Oh, how she craved that attention. She could almost feel Ropes' hot breath washing over her scales, the little rapid pant making his eyelids flutter over the contacts that his demonic eyes would dissolve in a matter of hours. Fyr took a deep breath, steadying herself - but for what, she did not know herself.
"Are you ready to place your orders now, or would you like a few moments more with the menu?"
Fyr jumped, guilty even though she hadn't been doing anything. The waiter, a tall, slender snake with a flickering tongue, tipped his head curiously to the side, eyes still glazed with a reptilian hue despite his anthropomorphism. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Sasha leaning back in her chair, eyes kindly innocent to anyone not in the know. Her daughter exhaled slowly.
"Yes, I daresay we are."
She had to commend her husband; the cougar was as smooth as silk. Tapping a finger on the menu as if he'd known what he wanted all along, he smiled up at the serpent waiter, all cool, suave and sophisticated.
It was no wonder she'd fallen in love with him.
"Yes, I'll have the seafood risotto, a side of garlic bread fingers to share for the table too, please."
Fyr smiled. Seafood. So typical of a feline. But the waiter's attention was already slithering on, ever efficient as he jotted down their order.
"An excellent choice - that is one of my _personal_favourites. And what for your lovely wife?"
The words could have been innocuous, if he had been addressing Fyr. As it was, his gaze slid as if in slow motion to the blue dragoness sitting across the table from the cougar, his smile full of genuine warmth.
Fyr choked on her own saliva, twisting and flaring out her wings as Sasha went to answer the serpent as if being Ropes' wife was the most normal, everyday thing she could have possibly thought of. Perhaps, for her, it was. The dragoness shot her a look out of the corner of her eye and Fyr yanked her wings back in to her back from where they had flared out in shock.
Other tables were staring, their eyes wide and curious to see just what her choking and coughing fit was all about. But Fyr didn't see them, didn't hear their tittering giggles, intent only in the dull roar in her ears, the waiter reaching out to her, asking if she was alright.
They'd correct him. Of course, they would, it went without saying. Fyr pounded her own chest, eyes wide and bulging as her tail swung back and curled around the leg of the chair.
"The Filetto di Manzo alla Rossini for me, please. And my husband and I would like a starter plate, the special platter," Sasha said, her voice ringing clearly through the cacophony in Fyr's head, drums banging and cymbals clanging. "Nothing to start for our daughter though. She had a big lunch."
As Fyr blushed heavily - she had not eaten that much, just who did her mother think she was to monitor what she was eating? - Ropes nodded and laughed politely, easing over the situation with shocking finesse.
"Yes, but she has to order too, dear."
"Pizza," Fyr said quickly, rushing the words from her lips as if she feared that she wasn't going to allowed to order at all. "I'll have the pizza. With Parma ham, if you have it too, and olives. Cheese and tomato."
She didn't get all the words she needed out, or in any sort of the right order, but the waiter nodded, clearly getting the gist of it.
"I shall be back with your bread for the table and your starter, if you would please wait but a moment."
As he rushed off in the characteristic speed-walk of wait staff, Fyr's frazzled mind clung to the one bit of information that she could get out, avoiding the main topic of contention.
"I didn't have a big lunch," she said in a voice that seemed terribly small to be passing her own lips. "I did have a muffin earlier though."
Sasha smirked and tapped the side of her muzzle, toes curling and uncurling within her tasteful, strappy evening shoes.
"Oh, you can have some bread and olives, if you like, sweetheart," she said smoothly. "I only thought you may have wanted to leave some room for dessert."
She cast Ropes a smouldering look, looking up at him from heavily mascara-laded lashes. The dragoness blew a smoke ring just barely in the shape of a heart. Ropes rumbled his appreciation, fingers squeezing briefly around her paw as the dragoness lavished her attention on him.
"But we can share on, can't we, sugar?" Sasha breathed. "Just you and me. If my daughter doesn't want our...dessert."
Fyr gulped.
"I'll skip the starter plate..."
Sasha sat up straight and blew her a kiss, shoulder blades pushing back as she retrieved her paw, gently, from Ropes' grasp. The cougar looked at his paw as if there was something missing there and, more slowly, withdrew his own paw to settle it in his paw. Fyr had no doubt as to what tightness he found there, smart trousers straining to contain what she wished to unleash.
But the dynamic had changed, irrevocably so, as they enjoyed their meal, Fyr resting and thinking in quiet companionship.
Out in public, Ropes was no longer her husband.
*
She could have predicted what was going to happen when they returned home: it was Valentine's Day. There was only one thing that was really ever going to happen. Ropes and Sasha barely got in the door before the dragoness tossed her handbag away, dragging him up the stairs by the tail with a feral growl. And, although the cougar yowled, he scrambled eagerly after her, tentacles writhing free of his smart shirt as he popped a few buttons loose.
Fyr followed, ever their shadow, though her footsteps seemed automatic in how they traipsed up the stairs, finding the familiarity of the motion a comfort to her conflicted soul. At least some things never changed. Some things stayed the same. Some things she could control.
Ropes tackled Sasha onto the bed, the frame and springs protesting the roughness. And, like the good little dragon she was, Fyr followed and dropped to her knees beside the bed, letting the lovers get on with what they did best, only grateful that they were allowing her to be a part of their love, if just in a small way.
If only she knew how her night was going to turn upside down.
_ _
"I'm so happy to be here," Fyr said, speaking her thoughts aloud, as cheesy as they were. "I'm so glad you involved me, this night just for the three of us."
Swinging her leg back over the cougar's hips, the dragoness swung her head around slowly, smoke curling from her nostrils. Fyr caught her breath. At that moment, she appeared as if a deity, a different entity entirely.
_ _
"Darling..." Sasha chuckled, her eyes half-lidded. "This night was never for you."
Fyr baulked. What was that supposed to mean? Weren't they having a date night, just the three of them? The dragoness' tail drooped. The three of them together were supposed to be enjoying their time.
Weren't they?
Sasha moaned as Fyr's husband kissed up her neck, playing sweet attention along the line of her jaw. The dragoness shivered, wings splaying flat on the bed as she practically melted beneath his touch. Fyr's heart twisted. Why couldn't she make them feel like that when she was pleasuring them? What did they have between each other that she simply couldn't match up to?
The cougar shrugged out of his shirt, licking his lips as he enjoyed the sight of the lingerie-clad dragoness laid out before him, a treat to be devoured slowly and patiently. With a purr, he flicked his tail lazily from one side to the other, whiskers quivering as he took in her beauty. Fyr was suddenly hit by the notion that she could never come close to her mother's pregnant divinity, scales edged with a lighter blue that seemed to set her whole body aglow.
She could never match that.
When Ropes' eyes locked on to hers, she flinched from the intensity.
"Get out, Fyr."
The dragoness blinked, jaw dropping.
"W-what?"
Oh, how she hated that little stutter in her voice, the one that made her seem even more pathetic and weak that she usually was. She rocked back on her heels, crouching low as if she could make herself seem smaller than she actually was. Maybe she would be allowed to stay if she looked small and insignificant? The dragoness whimpered and cast her eyes down, but no amount of submissive behaviour seemed about to redeem her in the eyes of her dominant leaders.
Ropes rolled his shoulders in a shrug.
"You heard me." He'd already turned his attention from her. "Get out. You're not needed here tonight."
"Or wanted."
Fyr recoiled as if she'd been slapped.
"Mom! You can't mean that."
Sasha chuckled and shook her head, fingers trailing pitifully along her jaw as she cupped her cheek in one paw.
"Oh, darling..." She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth with fake sympathy. "I'm not your mother here. And I want to have fun with my husband. My cougar. My Ropes."
The dragoness stared. Her head pounded. The room dipped and swayed, though her claws still curled into the plush carpet as she crouched, mind grinding to a halt as she struggled to comprehend what had just been said.
But they didn't give her a chance.
Ropes turned on her with the ferocity of a wildcat, eyes blazing a shocking white.
"Out!"
The command snapped her out of her daze and she scrambled to obey, scurrying from the room with her tail between her legs before she even realised what she was doing. The door closed on her heels, her paw on the handle, and only then did Fyr halt and blink and stare, lips parted as her lungs ached.
No...
_ _
But it had been so. They didn't want her there. Nobody wanted her there. Like it had been in the restaurant, it was the two of them that mattered now and certainly not her. She leaned back into the door, the cool wood a soothing stability in fraught times, and slowly slid down to the floor as if every ounce of energy had been drained out of her at a moment's notice.
Sitting with her back to the closed bedroom door, Fyr pulled her knees up to her chest and whimpered, burying her muzzle between her legs. If she hid, maybe it wouldn't be happening, the moans and giggles behind the door something far more tender than anything she could have ever hoped to hear directed at her.
But they deserved it more. They would always deserve every drop of good in the world and every beautiful thing she could provide for them. Fyr rubbed the back of her paw across her eyes. It would be okay, if only they could enjoy each other. She would be there when they needed her, however they needed her.
To stay or go, however? The dragoness shook her head slowly from side to side, unhappily staring at the landing carpet that desperately needed replacing; it hadn't seemed worth it to really do up the house when they were all wanting to move to the ranch eventually, but, in the moment of her abandonment, it irked her. Growling in the back of her throat, she dug her claws into the coarser fibres and dragged her hind paw across, leaving a rending tear in it.
There, she thought, venom lacing her thoughts. See that!
_ _
Yet there was nothing to see besides a dragoness proud of one minute act in what was otherwise a life entirely beyond her control.
"You're so much stronger than she is..."
Fyr stiffened. Her husband's - no, could she say that anymore? - voice was so clear that it was as if he wanted her to hear him. And, as soon as she had that thought, Sasha's lilting giggle floated through the door.
"Oh, but I'm better than her." She purred and Fyr could almost imagine how the tip of her tail would flick back and forth, the dragoness languishing over Ropes as they bodies came together in carnal bliss. "I'll always be... I'm more experienced and I have none of her silly little inhibitions. Could she even carry your young?"
"We've not had joy in conceiving..."
Fyr pushed her shoulder blades back, every muscle in her body tensed.
"I didn't have that trouble."
It was the smirk in her mother's voice that did it and Fyr stifled a groan that spoke of far more desire than her trembling, shaking body, eyes half-lidded. Warmth spread through her loins and she knew in her heart that there was no way that she was possibly not supposed to overhear what was going on, which meant one thing and one thing alone.
She was included.
It didn't matter that she hadn't fallen pregnant yet. Her mother had.
Closing her eyes, she tipped her head back to the door and let her tail creep between her thighs, the tip brushing up against the crotch of her flared jeans as if purely by accident. But there was intent in her actions, even if she would have otherwise pleaded innocence.
No, nothing about her was innocent anymore. But she could still enjoy debauchery.
Sasha moaned and Fyr knew without seeing that Ropes was pushing into her, his cock questing and so easily finding her entrance. She wouldn't have been surprised if the cougar knew the dragoness' body better than he knew that which belonged to his wife, but it was the way it was supposed to be. She unbuttoned her jeans and slipped her paw inside, tail grinding up to her pussy lips, head tilted back and slender tongue hanging out the side of her muzzle.
No one would know what she did. And would it matter if they did too? Fyr blushed. No, they'd only mock her for being so turned on by their liaison, taunting her with glimpses of what she couldn't have yet still wanted more than anything else. Her fingertips found the bud of her clit and circled it, teasing herself as she wanted them to tease her. Yet being teased through a closed door with their moans and grunts, enjoying one another's bodies in a way she never could, was more than she ever could have wished for too.
Fyr touched her fingers to her lips, remembering her husband's kisses. They were some of her sweetest memories. She couldn't remember that last time he'd kissed her or whether it had been days or weeks or even longer than a few months. Time between them seemed to lack meaning as they moved on into their new life and joint lives, shared between one another.
And she knew she should have been happy, oh, she knew. But the jealous little part of her that remained still wanted him to be hers and only hers. She wanted him to be the demon cougar she had thought she could change, could fix and could turn into an upstanding member of society. But what was there to improve on when the cougar was already perfect in her eyes, nothing more than adored?
Groaning, Fyr closed her eyes, pressing her cheek to the closed door as she imagined his tentacles winding around Sasha, caressing every inch of her. She hadn't liked the tentacles at first, but, well, they'd really grown on her over time, the way they seemed to move independently of him as his body moved over hers. She moaned softly, remembering. Her paw dipped between her thighs, pressing up and finding the soft folds of her sex through her satin panties. They were nothing like what her mother had donned for the cougar she'd taken as her mate, but she'd thought that someone may have ripped them off her that night.
Instead, she was left out in the hallway with her own arousal soaking through them while the lovers enjoyed themselves, just as they had every right to. Sliding her fingers into her sex, Fyr inhaled sharply, though the sound was not loud enough to drown out her mother's moan. Her thumb grazed her clit and she imagined Ropes' tentacles caressing her throat and breasts as she submitted to him, barely held down as she allowed her body to be used to fulfil his need and his alone.
Well, now it could be used to fulfil his need and her mother's need.
"Oh, Ropes..."
Sasha purred, the throaty rumble carrying through the door. Fyr tensed, but did not, could not, stop fingering herself, fingers driving into her pussy with a lewd, wet slapping. Pressing her thumb down on her clit, she nipped at her lower lip and suppressed a moan, throat vibrating lightly with repressed desire. Although the dragoness had no reason to hold back, something in her didn't want to interrupt perfection either.
"Fuck me, stud-kitty."
Fyr giggled, imagining just how her husband's muzzle contorted at that. Dominant personalities did clash. Maybe that was why they'd worked so well together, at least for a time. Fyr was anything but dominant when it came to the bedroom, even if being submissive allowed her to regain her assertiveness in other ways. It was all about the balance of it and, oh, how she loved the balance and rightness of being on her knees.
"Mmm, such a stud..."
Something cracked - the headboard slamming into the wall? - and Ropes snarled viciously. Even Fyr shrank back and she wasn't even in the same room as him. Cloth tore and the dragoness whipped around, eyes wide and a paw halfway to the door handle. Sasha shrieked, Fyr's heart in her mouth, arousal temporarily forgotten.
"You beast!"
But it seemed that her mother was matching Ropes lust for lust as a growl that could only have come from the dragon's lips tore free, a thud sounding as a thick, heavy tail slammed into the wall. The floor trembled beneath Fyr and she gasped as she shifted onto all fours, shoulder digging into the wall as she fingered herself furiously, driving three digits into her stretched, needy cunt as if her husband was right there fucking her as roughly as he was taking Sasha, her own mother.
It could have been two wild animals mating in the bedroom that had once been so familiar to Fyr, but so strange with the snarls and yowls emanating forth. Ropes usually only let out such a raw, feral yowl when he was at the point of orgasm, but something about Sasha seemed to draw the sounds from him as Fyr had never quite been able to do. The bed creaked and Fyr whimpered, imagining it was her body he was pinning down, tentacles wrapping around her wrists. She didn't expect Sasha to succumb to such treatment easily, the bed protesting as two lustful bodies fought for control, but it was just what she wanted and, well, she was more than allowed to imagine.
"You fucking hot dragoness..."
Ropes' voice rolled out in a sultry hiss and Fyr shuddered, juices dripping to the floor. Had she climaxed? She didn't know, every inch of her body overcome with pleasure as wave after wave pulsed through her like her life force. The dragoness moaned, though the sound was too easily drowned out by her mother's roar, the older dragon more dominant, more powerful and, ultimately, more commanding.
"Fuck me!"
Sasha snarled and grunted like a wild animal in heat, knocks and thuds increasing in frequency. From somewhere within the bedroom came the sound of splintering wood, but Fyr knew that they would be safe; she'd seen them in the barn being so brutal with one another that she was sure they'd break bones and they'd been fine then, hadn't they?
She wasn't so sure, however, that the bedroom would survive in one piece. Fyr cringed as another crack snapped out and the dragoness laughed wickedly, drunk on lust as hips slapped noisily against her scales. Fyr moaned and arched her back as another climax took her, limbs jerking and twitching as if they were abruptly beyond her control. Yes, she must have already climaxed, one after the other rolling through her so that there was little to no distinction between them, her body a temple of lust set on spilling over.
Sasha cried out and she heard Ropes half get out a growl, although the sound was set off abruptly. Senses limited in her voyeurism, she could only dream of how her mother looked in orgasm, whether she was on her back, on her side, riding her husband - oh, there were too many ways! Fyr panted, withdrawing her soaked fingers from her pussy only to shove the dress up higher around her hips and cram herself full of her tail instead, eyes rolling back into her skull. There was nothing in her little, lustful world but pleasure, the dragoness needing what they had to give and yet beautifully, wonderfully denied her.
She wouldn't have wanted it any other way.
The bed protested their activities as the cougar let out a shrieking yowl befitting a feral creature and Sasha hissed, egging him on until Fyr was sure that every last drop of cum he had to give - from that orgasm, at least - had been pumped deep into her cunny. Fyr moaned through her ongoing orgasm - whether one single one or many, she could not have said in all honesty - and hung her head, knees splayed as she rubbed her tail up and over her clit with every thrust into her pussy. It had been a long time since she'd used such a crude method to stimulate herself, but the raw nature of it excited her all the more, sweat soaking lines down her dress.
"Darling..." Sasha purred, words slurred and drowsy in the afterglow. "That was divine. I knew I could take your cock better than that little whore."
Grunting, Fyr ducked her head between her trembling arms, barely baring the weight of her body as her tail drove into her cunt, a hard, sloppy thrust. Oh yes... She was their little whore. Just anything and everything they wanted and needed her to be.
"She couldn't even take all my cock."
Fyr shuddered, but there was more.
"Oh, well I'm never going to have that problem now, am I, sugar? I'm your equal!"
There was no more talk then, only lustful kissing as their lips clearly met once more, dragon and cougar growling and grunting into each other's muzzles as their bodies moved together in perfect intimacy. Fyr slumped onto her side, barely able to support the weight of her own body as she rolled onto her back, hips rocking into each and every thrust of her tail. A pool of her own juices spread beneath her buttocks, dress soaked with evidence of her arousal, but the dragon couldn't have found it in herself to care even if she'd been somewhat lucid.
No, all she cared about was lust and getting to see - or hear - just how much fun her husband and her mother were having on Valentine's night without her.
They didn't need her for that.
She didn't know at what point she slipped out of her dress, only that she eventually realised it was balled up on the carpet beside her, a crumpled mess that couldn't possibly be rescued. The dragoness rolled her head from shoulder to shoulder, slumping forward as she pushed herself shakily up against the wall, her tail slick with her own juices. Her cunt throbbed, sore and yet only used by herself, and the dragoness moaned softly, barely able to summon up the energy to raise her voice at all.
How much time had passed? The landing window was still dark, so she had not fucked herself through the night until morning. The moans and slaps and cracks on the other side of the bedroom door had been reminiscent of something out of a cheesy BDSM book, but Fyr had been sure that anything given was taken in turn. The kind of sex they now certainly seemed to very much enjoy, however, was something that Fyr knew, with a sinking feeling in her gut, that she'd never be able to satisfy them with.
But at least they had each other.
Footsteps on the other side of the door sent her scrambling back, heart pounding. Dripping with sweat and stinking of feminine arousal, she couldn't have possibly been caught in a more compromising position.
The humiliation was intoxicating.
Sasha put her head around the door, eyes half-lidded and smoke curling sensually from her nostrils. Fyr gulped. Even after getting off so many times, she wanted her mother between her legs. Or Ropes. Or both.
Yes, both would be wonderful.
"Did you enjoy that, sweetheart?"
Blankly, Fyr nodded. Sasha smirked.
"Then get downstairs, back to the sofa. You don't get to sleep with us either tonight."
Sasha fluttered her eyelashes seductively, pulling the door closed as her final words snapped through the air between them.
"Maybe you won't get to sleep in our bed again."
And, like the good little submissive wife she was, Fyr did so blindly, paws carrying her just where she needed to go. She curled up in what had become her corner of the sofa, at least while they allowed it, and pulled the blanket over her, a heavy, woven one that her grandmother had laboured over many years ago. Pulling it up to her muzzle, she inhaled deeply, eyes closed. If she thought back hard enough, she could remember having sex with Ropes on top of that blanket. She wondered if she ever would again, truly, or if she would just be used and passed between the two of them, as they pleased.
She wouldn't have minded either way. However they pleased, pleased her too.
Sighing softly, a smile tugging sweetly at her lips, the dragoness slipped into dreamland, her chest rising and falling gently. She didn't even bother getting out of her clothes, jeans tightening uncomfortably across her hips. But discomfort was a part of her life, her chore and her satisfaction even as the crick in her neck throbbed, her sex wet and slick still.
The sofa was good enough for a cuckold wife.