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Reena had always been faithful. Always conformed to the standard, always loved her husband, took care of the children, cleaned the house, everything. She never once complained. She kept her husband, a burly tiger, well satisfied with her motherly lapine body. Her wide hips often dragged him to bed, her ample bust kept him there, and her willing lips kept him happy during his stay. So why, oh why, was the bunny face down on her kitchen floor, upper body wedged under her stove, shorts around her knees and someone else's cum leaking out of her? Well, there's a complicated answer to that..

Reena's husband, Jared, had been called away to yet another business trip. Not abnormal, she took care of the kids while he was gone. About three days into his trip, however, one of his old friends showed up. He was a bit of a wild one, a light grey furred wolf with brown splotches along his back, odd birth marks. He was fairly well built, broad shoulders. Reena hadn't seen him in ages, as he was usually hunting around for her husband.

Surprised but courteous as always, the bunny happy to play hostess, invited him inside. He accepted rather eagerly.

Over a sandwich and some coffee, the two discussed where he had been. A recent sailing adventure, looking for a specific type of fish that raised a high price. Apparently he was fairly successful, and decided to come over and treat the family to a good meal. Sadly, with Jared gone for another full week it would have to wait.

So instead, despite Reena's near complete lack of knowledge about the wolf, they talked, "caught up" and generally got to know each other. Before she knew it, the time had passed to near dinner time. Her children were staying at a friend's house, so she decided to cook for the two of them.

However, mid-way into pouring some sauce into a pan, a large splotch of it sputtered out and landed on her skirt. The lapine yelped from the heat and hopped back, managing to spill the can. The rest of it landed on her shirt AND her skirt, drenching her in sauce. She sighed, cursing under her breath and excused herself to go change while she turned off the stove.

And there was the problem that started it all. Reena was a bit of a minimalist, and she didn't like to have a ton of clothes. Just a few basic outfits. However, being the holidays, most of her clothes were in the laundry, and she refused to wear something dirty.

Thus, when she returned, the chocolate furred bunny was clad in a simple pair of short shorts and a tank top, much to her pain. The shorts hugged her round rear quite nicely, which was why she usually just wore it when it was boiling hot or she was trying to entice her husband to a good lay. The tanktop she wore wasn't too comfortable wearing because it exposed quite the ample amount of cleavage and left her more or less exposed to any prying eyes.

So, with a bashful smile and an attempt to hide her exposed bits, she pulled on an apron to avoid staining her last clothes besides a fancy dress. With that she got back to work, though her companion had grown much quieter.

After a while, however, the water stopped boiling. With a curious huff, the mouse went down onto all fours and opened up the bottom of the stove to check the pilot light. With another, more irritated huff, she crawled into the small space halfway to try and get a better look at it. It was often that it went out for no reason, being a rather old and rickety stove, but sometimes it would just degrade to a tiny flame and come back after a while, saving her a lot of trouble.

She didn't get far, however. With her small frame under the stove, she couldn't do anything but yelp when she felt a pair of hands smack onto her round ass. She hit her head against something metal and groaned, laying her cheek on the ground.

Those powerful hands only grasped her ass, squeezing and kneading her as she whimpered from beneath the stove. Her husband was a little handsy from time to time, but nothing like this! Sex wasn't too often in the first place, and now she was being pinned under her stove and felt up by her husband's friend.

Speaking of those hands, they were moving more and more downwards. Her eyes widened as she realized their destination. With a loud ZZIIIIIP, her shorts were yanked down to her knees. Beneath them, there was nothing. Her panties had been stained by the sauce, and she didn't have any spares. Her bare pussy was exposed, and between those thick round cheeks her puckered tail star.

Reena whined from beneath the stove as she writhed, trying to push herself out. Those powerful hands, however, didn't let her move an inch, and only began to molest her rounded cheeks. Her doughy rear was thoroughly massaged by the wolf, her small tail flickering around behind her, while she could do nothing but press against the floor and writhe in an attempt to get free. And with all the dust and soot from the stove around, she didn't dare try to breathe deeply enough to speak.

Her company seemed to take her squirming and pushing back to get away as invitation. As before she knew it, she was gasping sharply and writhing all the more as a firm, moist pressure ran up the lips of her mound. Back arched and her rear tensed, she could do nothing but sit there, on hands and knees, stuck, while the wolf's wet tongue began to lap at her vulnerable pussy.

And that it did. The wolf went to town, lapping at her, spreading her cheeks and digging his nose into her, making her squeal and squirm even more, pushing out the dust and soot around her lips and nose. Her husband had never really gone down on her. He was a very simple man, and more often than not, she was rubbing herself slowly into the night after sex. Even then, orgasms were rare.

Her new friend seemed to be fixing that. As time went by, the lapin was squirming less and less, and moaning more and more. By then, the area around her nose and lips were more than clean enough to breath from her gasping, but she didn't cry out. She didn't tell him to stop. She didn't whimper. Her wriggling hips were beginning to press more directly back into his lips, and especially that tongue.

She may not have realized it, but she was drooling, profusely, from both ends. One end was quite well taken care of, soft slurps and wet snorts heard as the canine went about his work. He wasn't able to keep at her forever, however.

Soon, her eyes blinked open once more as she heard a second unzipping. But her pants were off already, weren't they? Her soaked mound was testament to that. The single hand on her ass was her first warning, but her pleasure soaked mind wasn't able to process it in time. Her lungs and instincts began to scream as she remembered the familiar prodding at her mound was, in fact, important. Her panting increased. Her heart soared. Her pussy kept up its ample amount of lube. And as that lupine dick rammed so suddenly into her folds, her wide hips yanked up and she screamed.

The canine never lost his tempo. Hard, rapid thrusts followed, ramming into her again and again, a wet slap following each rough thrust. Her fingers clutched the floor as the wolf fucked her like some rabid bitch in the woods, and for all his work, she may as well be. Her mound swallowed up his length dutifully, never stopping, clutching to his length like a virgin while her juices made sure he could fuck her good and proper.

She felt the heavy orbs slapping into her mound again and again, his hips smacking against her round ass, the hands clasping her hips, the sound of labored breathing above her. And as her eyes rolled back, lids fluttering but never closing, drool pooling on the floor below her, she knew that she was being bred, properly. Not the passionless sex that she and her husband had. She was being well and truly FUCKED.

And as the wolf grabbed her tightly and fucked her hard and fast, there was no way to stop it. She only clutched at the floor and held on for her dear life as she was taken and filled, that length pounding away at her deepest recesses. She couldn't tell him that he should stop, that she was married, or that she was in the middle of a ripe heat and she shouldn't be letting anyone but her husband anywhere near her bare pussy. All she could do was lay there, pinned beneath a stove on her hands and knees with her ass in the air, and take her breeding like a proper bitch.

And as she felt his base growing rapidly from the rough filling, she knew that she was his bitch, well and truly. There was no way out of it. She could only squeal and yelp in encouragement as he rammed into her bare, ripe pussy, and claimed it. And as she felt his knot popping into her, getting harder and harder to yank free, she knew it was coming. Yet she could, or rather would, not do a thing.

Finally, that bulb of flesh lodged in her mound. Her hips shook, her pussy clenched, and she screamed. Her tongue hung out of her mouth as she felt his balls twitch against her clit, and she could have sworn she could feel the hot cum racing straight down his cum vein. There was no chance for her. As it splattered free, nearly directly into her womb and painted her cervix, she could do nothing but let her own sounds be drowned out by the wolf's howling while she was pumped full of seed.

She trembled and twitched underneath him, every drop emptying as deep as it could manage straight inside of her. His powerful hips gave bucks and twitches against her, grinding his powerful breeding tool around against her inner walls.

As his balls emptied the last of their contents into her, he finally relaxed, and she lay there, panting, tongue lying on the floor while she tried to catch her breath.

It took nearly a half hour, but his dick slid free of her snatch, and her gave her ass a firm smack, making her yelp and twitch. He muttered something about coming around for more sometime, stood up, and wrote something down on a note pad. She heard him zip up, and he left.