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*Honk-Honk*

“Get out of my driveway you floppy eared miscreants! That’s my private property, not your personal bike rack. Now scram before I have to call your parents!”

My blood boils from the group of deviant teenagers sitting in my driveway, their bikes strewn about the pavement and fur dyed all sorts of unnatural, garish colors. A zebra with stripes of neon green where there should be white, a lion with a mane dyed flaming red and yellow, a human with black hair tipped in blue. But the one that really puts a grimace on my snout is Brooke, a wolfess covered in jet black fur. Black face, black ears, black tail, yet unless my eyes deceived me at the last PTA meeting both her parents are arctic wolves bearing coats of vibrant white. Typical teenage rebelliousness. I already get enough of it at work, why the hell can’t I be free of it once the school day ends?

“Chill out Boarson, we’re just taking a little break, no need to get the tusks out.” Complains Brooke, standing up with the rest of her lot.

“A little break? Ha! I know you all skipped school today. Besides, how else would you beat me to the neighborhood when I came here in a car?”

“Maybe we got here first since we didn’t have such a fat ass dragging us down.” The zebra whispers to the human with an amused laugh.

They don’t think I heard them, but I did.

My eyes shoot over to the zebra.

“I heard that Mr. Poole, and maybe you would have a passing grade in chemistry if you didn’t have so many big, fat, stinking Fs dragging your grade down. You’ll have to retake it next year at this rate. Gonna really be awkward, being the only senior in a class full of juniors.”

“Ya, uhh…sorry.” He awkwardly murmurs, looking down in defeat.

I cock my head and give him a smug smile before returning my attention to the ebony wolfess.

“So, you going to take your little pack away with you or will I have to throw a bone first? Or would you prefer a tennis ball?”

She rolls her eyes at me with an indignant huff. The teenagers slowly get back onto their bikes, dissatisfied murmurs and curses coming across my sensitive ears. They begin pedaling down the sidewalk and the wolfess turns to me, giving me the bird with her tongue between her lips.

“Why you little goth-!” I barely manage to stop myself just before ‘whore’ escaped my lips.

Calm down Emma, calm down, they’re just children. No need for someone to overhear you and send a nasty letter to the principal about how you called their beautiful little angel a whore. I take a deep breath and let off the brake, rolling into my driveway. Yet just before I stop I hear an odd crunching sound come from one of my tires. I get out to discover that one of those teenage asses left a half-eaten bag of chips in my driveway. I lean down and pull it free from the tire, subtly sniffing the top of the bag as I walk to my front door.

Potato chips. BBQ flavored potato chips to be exact. My favorite.

I look to the left, then right. No need to potentially reinforce harmful stereotypes about boars, this can wait until I’m inside the house. After unlocking the door and stepping into the cool air-conditioned air I throw my purse onto the kitchen table and sit down on the couch, turning the TV on to a Spanish soap opera. I give the bag of chips another inquisitive sniff and take a handful out, throwing them into my snout as I savor their smoky flavor. I know these chips are going to go straight to my thighs, they always do, but who am I to turn away free food?

The bag runs empty just as the well-dressed lioness storms out of her husband’s mansion in tears. This is what, the fifth time he’s cheated on her this season? I can only hope she shoots him at some point in revenge, but then again, knowing how these things work I'm sure in the following season he’ll make a dramatic comeback and they get together again. Growing tired of the flat lighting and teary-eyed speeches, I turn the channel to some kind of nature show.

There’s a human man in short shorts and a tan button up shirt, he’s giving an overview of wild boars. It takes all of three seconds to determine the man was Australian, the accent and wide-open grasslands behind him being dead giveaways. As the man walks and talks my eyes can’t help but be drawn to his well-muscled legs and burly chest. I always did like humans, something about all that bare skin always got me hot under the fur. That, and also their oddly defenseless bodies. I’ve got tusks for goring, claws for slicing, and hooves for stomping, but the man on the screen only had dull teeth and stubby fingernails. I bet I could take him a fight, man to sow. Our bodies intertwined, limbs fighting for dominance, teeth bared and muscles bulging, just the thought of it gets my mind racing. And when I inevitably stand victorious, a cloven hoof proudly placed on his chest, I just might have to lean down and tear off his stupid little short shorts and-

There’s a sudden cut and the man is standing behind a bush.

In a flash he jumps forward and catches the hind legs of a feral boar, wrestling it to the ground with a surprising amount of finesse. He keeps it still with one arm and turns it over with the over, motioning for the camera to come around beside him.

“Ah, looks like we finally got one! Looks like a young female, ain’t she a beaut? Just look at those sharp tusks on her snout there, one bad encounter with those and I’d be on the way to the bloody hospital!”

The bare skin, the fight between man and beast, the mentioning of tusks, I just can’t help myself anymore. I snake a hand down my thigh and hike my skirt up. Spreading my legs on the couch, the same hand finds its way into my panties already moistened with arousal.

“Now if we look here at her belly, we can see the six teats she uses to feed her young ones. They’re typically born in litters of four to six, meaning poor old mum is going to have a doozy of a time keeping her piglets under control when spring rolls around.”

Teats, ya, I’ve got those too. With one hand already between my legs, the other snakes its way under my shirt and onto my first row of breasts, teasing a stiff nipple as waves of pleasure shoot up my spine. I continue to watch the man prattle on about boar grazing habits as I focus on my own self pleasure, my mind turning to mush as more base urges take over. With one hand working my cunt and the other pinching a swollen nipple it’s only a matter of time until I climax with a high-pitched squeal.

My mind goes blank for a brief moment and I open my eyes. The man on the TV is gone, now replaced by the ad break. I slide my hands out from under my clothes and take a look around. The bag of chips I found on the ground lays next to me, not a crumb left within. My left hand is slippery with my own carnal juices. My right nipples still stings from when I pinched it a little too hard. My skirt is hiked up around my waist and panties have been pulled down a few inches from where they normally sit.

“God Emma, so unladylike.” I chide myself, looking over my deviancy with a halfhearted laugh.

Geez, what’s gotten into me today? It feels almost like I’m in heat, yet my rutting days should be long behind me. I stand up and stretch my arms, back popping in the process. Oh what a joy it is, to live alone and not have to worry about someone barging in your shameful jilling session on the couch. With a pleased sigh I pull my panties back up and smooth my skirt. At the same time I hear a rumble coming from the front of my house. A garbage truck? They aren’t supposed to pick up today. I move to the door and put my snout against the thin window bordering it, eyes scanning the street in search of the noise.

The culprit soon comes into view, a large yellow moving truck squeals to a stop in front of the house next door. Ah, so that’s it, someone finally bought the house next to mine. About damn time too, the old geezer who used to live there died nearly a year ago. A minivan moves in front of the truck and I look through its windows to peek at who my new neighbors are going to be. God, I hope it’s not a family of hyenas, my poor ears can only take so much of their stupid laughter and loud music.

In the front seat of the minivan I spy a human male and in the passenger seat is a tigress. Both appear middle aged and well groomed, looking good so far. The minivan’s side door slides open and who I can only assume is their teenage human son hops out. Uhg, and things were looking so good! Now I’ll have to deal with some snot nosed youth getting into trouble right next to my house. What will he do, I wonder. Trample my flowers? Have parties with his friends well into the night? Look through my windows in the hopes of gaining sight of an old boar’s scandalous naked body? I may have to cover my windows up before relieving my carnal urges on the couch now, what a bother! I huff through my snout and turn away from the window.

As annoying as it is, I do have a sacred duty as their neighbor to welcome them to the neighborhood. I march to the bathroom and get ready for a shower. The two humans wouldn’t be able to tell I just spent the last 30 minutes knuckle deep in my own pork pie courtesy of their weak noses, but the tigress absolutely would, and I do want to make a good first impression.

***********************

*Knock-Knock-Knock*

I wait patiently for someone to answer, a platter of chocolate chip cookies held in my hands. The door opens and I'm greeted by the tigress.

“Hello! I’m Ms. Boarson, I live right next door to you, welcome to the neighborhood!” I greet her with a wide smile.

“And hello to you! Thanks for coming by. I’m Cindy, and this is my husband, Paul.”

The man I saw earlier steps beside her and sticks a hand out. I juggle my platter of cookies and return his handshake.

“Pleasure to meet you Ms. Boarson. It’s so nice to already know one of our neighbors.”

“We were going to have to get to know each other eventually. Nobody likes to live around strangers.”

He glances at the box of cookies.

“I feel the same way. Would you like to come inside and talk for a moment? We don’t have everything set up yet, but there’s a couch in the living room.”

“Sure, sure.”

“Great, you can set the cookies on the kitchen table over there.”

They part allowing me through and I take a look around. The walls are a plain cream color and boxes litter the interior, I’m sure it will be a while until they’re fully moved in. After setting the platter of cookies down I walk to the couch and sit, Paul and Cindy soon joining me.

“So,” I start. “what do you all do?”

“I’m a groomer, I work at a salon in town.” Cindy answers.

I certainly believe it, her fur is expertly cut and styled, the orange and black stripes almost hypnotic in their contrast. A tinge of jealousy comes across my mind as I subconsciously compare myself to her. With my yellowed tusks, lazily groomed coat, and paunchy belly I always knew I was never much a looker these days, yet compared to Cindy I looked like twice the hag I currently am despite a rough parity in age. Hiding my growing envy under a polite smile, I turn to her husband.

“And you, Paul?”

“I’m an engineer. I work at a design firm not far from here, we mostly design consumer appliances.”

Button up shirt, khakis, glasses, lack of musculature, his choice of occupation wasn’t a surprise to me either.

“I’m sure that’s a rewarding line of work. As for me, I teach up at the local high school.”

Cindy claps her hands together.

“Oh that’s wonderful! What do you teach?”

“English, communications, foreign literature, and a few other odds and ends depending on what the administration wants done.”

“What grades?”

“At least one class in each.”

Cindy turns to Paul.

“Who knows, she might be the one teaching Michael when he starts school. Wouldn’t that be wonderful, he could have a tutor right next door!”

“Michael?” I ask, already sure of what their response would be.

“He’s our son, he’ll be finishing up his freshman year after he gets enrolled.” Cindy explains. “You might as well meet him while you’re here. Michael!”

Soon after calling him he emerges from a hallway. Short hair, wrinkled graphic tee, worn jeans, he looks just like the legions of youths I have to deal with at work. I can only hope he doesn’t join the gang of malcontents already harassing this neighborhood.

“Ya?” He asks.

“Michael, this is Ms. Boarson, she’s one of our new neighbors. Why don’t you say hi?” Cindy says.

He gives an awkward wave.

“Oh, uh, hi Ms. Boarson. I’m Michael.”

“Pleasure to meet you Michael, I heard that you’ll be starting school soon?”

“Ya, can’t wait to finish up my freshman year.”

“Great, I anticipate that we might see each other in the halls, maybe you’ll even be put in one of the classes I teach.”

“Oh…uhh…cool.”

Not a very smooth talker, this one.

There’s a commotion by the door and a couple moving men struggle to wrangle a large wardrobe past the doorway.

“Hey, where do you guys want this? It’s…really heavy.” One of them grunts, adjusting his grip on the dense oak.

“Your mother’s wardrobe…” Paul says, getting up off the couch to assist them.

Cindy follows behind, eager to make sure nothing happens to her prized possession.

“We’ll help the movers out sweetie, why don’t you and Ms. Boarson get acquainted? Who knows, she might be your future tutor if classes prove difficult.” She humors, winking at me.

They guide the wardrobe through the house and soon it’s just me and Michael in the living room. I pat the space on the couch next to me.

“Come, sit down Michael. Let’s talk.” He shuffles over and sits down. Only now that he’s sitting next to me do I notice just how much I tower over him. Granted, I’ve always been on the taller side for a sow, but even then he’s definitely on the smaller side for a human his age. “So Michael, do you like your new place?”

“Ya, it’s definitely bigger than our old house. And the fact that I get to live closer to some of my friends is good too.”

“Good, just be sure you aren’t hanging around with the wrong crowd though. I don’t mean to gossip, but there’s a nearby pack of youths led by a black furred wolfess I would suggest you stay away from. I would just hate to see you get involved with them and end up in jail, or worse.”

He looks away and chuckles nervously.

“Heh, ya, wouldn’t want to make my parents worry or anything, I’ll be sure to stay away from them Ms. Boarson.”

“That’s music to my ears, Michael.” His immediate compliance brings a smile to my snout, if only the kids at school were so well behaved! A new smell comes across my nose and I quietly sniff the air. It takes only a couple seconds to determine it’s human sweat, likely coming from the one sitting next to me. “Been moving a lot of boxes today?”

“Oh, uhh, ya. Been busy getting everything into my room. The clothes were no big deal but the books were a real pain.”

“Better get used to hauling books around, you’ll be back in the halls finishing your freshmen year in no time.”

“Tell me about it, not even a fourth of the way through high school and I already can’t wait for it to be over.”

“Oh come on, it’s not so bad. Do you know anyone already going there?”

“Ya, I have a few friends there.”

“Good, you got a cute girlfriend too?”

He looks to the ground sheepishly.

“Uhh…no.”

“Awww, and why would a cute little humie like you not have a girly friend?” My eyes go wide. I cannot believe the words that just came out of my very mouth. Cute. Little. Humie? I guess he is kind of cute, he is little compared to me, and he is a human, but calling a student names like that is way out of line for someone in my position. There’s already been enough student/teacher drama at work, no need for me to add another body to the promptly fired pile. I cough into my fist and turn back to him. “No need to answer that though, if you don’t want to.”

He shrugs and looks to the ground.

“I don’t know, I guess I just never really got along with girls my age.”

“Why not?”

“They’re always so, I don’t know, so petty. And their moods can flip on a switch, it’s like one day they hate me and the next they act like nothing ever happened.”

I nod in understanding.

“Yep, girls your age can certainly be that way, it’s the hormones. It sounds to me like you want someone a little more stable.”

“Ya, a little more stable, and more…mature…too.”

Mature. Why did he focus on that word so much? Or am I just reading the situation wrong. God, first I call him cute and now he’s confessing his love for mature women to me. Or by mature does he just mean a year or two? Did it get a couple degrees hotter in here? I take a deep breath to clear my mind and respond.

“You know, puberty tends to have a stronger affect on the anthro population compared to humans. Girls your own species would probably be more stable than whoever else it is you’ve tried dating.”

He throws his arms up in exasperation.

“That’s just the thing! I’ve tried dating human girls and nothing ever works out! Mom says I should broaden my horizons, expand my dating pool. I think she just wants to me hook up with a tiger like her, but to be honest I’d be open to dating any kind of anthro girl.”

So the hopeless romantic in front of me wants an anthro girl. A mature anthro girl. He couldn’t possibly be implying what I think he is. This conversation has grown far too awkward for me to bear. Time to change the subject.

“Okay, well, good luck with that. There’s plenty of fish in the sea, and some of them you can even date. Anyway, what’s your favorite food? Mine is chocolate cake.”

“Bacon!” He cheerfully responds.

It takes all my willpower not to laugh_, of course it’s bacon._ Mercifully, Michael’s parents reenter the room giving me an exit. I stand up and smooth my skirt.

“It was nice visiting you all, but I don’t want to waste any more of your time. I know you have a lot of work ahead unpacking things and setting up the house. My cookies are still on the table if you want any.”

“Pleasure meeting you Ms. Boarson. Feel free to drop by anytime if you need anything.” Cindy says.

“Goodbye Ms. Boarson.” Paul says, waving goodbye.

I wave back and walk to the front door, closing it behind me. Well, that was a little awkward. The parents seemed nice enough but I suspect Michael might be a deviant, lusting after beastly women twice his age. Hardly the first time I’ve seen it happen though, it wasn’t a secret that more than a few of the illicit relationships at work were between middle aged women and their far younger male pupils. Not that I would ever stoop so low as to do something like that. Michael may be cute, and small, and defenseless, and have a lot of bare skin, and smell good, and would be more than willing to stuff his pig in my blanket while under the blankets, but I could never stoop so low as to defile a cute little humie such as him. Ya, totally. Maybe. Possibly…

*********************

I’m in the grasslands now, hiding behind a bush in my tan shirt and short skirt. I hear movement, then the distinct smell of human sweat comes across the air. My prey is close. I wait for the perfect moment, then leap forward!

I tackle my prey and we roll to a stop on the ground. He wiggles, and thrashes, and attempts to escape my grip. But when I bite his shoulder, my sharp tusks digging into his supple skin, he finally gets the message and stops his pointless struggle. Prey secured, I lean up and get a good look at him. Human male, young, clothed in nothing more than a simple loincloth. I look to the cameraman.

“Ah, looks like we finally got one! Looks like a young male, ain’t he a beaut? Just look at that stiff cock under his loincloth there, one bad encounter with that and I’d be on the way to the bloody-“

“Ah!”

I lean up in my bed, the nightmare apparently over. Wait, nightmare? Or wet dream? I move a hand between my legs and-

Sopping. Wet.

My head hits the pillow with a sigh. I’m hopeless.

*****************

Michael’s parents left their house ten minutes ago, I saw their car drive right by my window. Now he’s sitting in that big old house, all alone, entirely unaware of the sexed-up sow that’s been thinking about him all morning. I made a plan. I’ll walk on over and ask him for something that’s white, sticky, and has a habit of getting everywhere. I'm talking about sugar, of course. Then I’ll simply seduce him with my boarish wiles, take him to his childhood bed, and then I’ll turn that wimpish boy into a man. Oh yeah, he’ll be calling me mommy in no time. And speaking of mommies, this’ll also be a way to blunt my growing jealousy for his mother who looks way too good for her age. How could I possibly feel jealous over someone else’s looks when I know their son’s been pigging out at my very own all you can eat pork buffet?

I move to the bathroom and pick out what to wear. It’ll all be coming off in a short while, so I might as well go minimal. A pair of lacy panties is pulled up over my unwashed crotch fluff. For my sagging breasts I decide to go braless, since it’ll ensure my stiff nipples really poke out of the thin sundress I put on. For a final touch I ruffle up the fur on top of my head and give my yellowed tusks a quick polishing. If Michael wants an older anthro as his bedmate then he’s getting exactly the sultry beast he desires, emphasis on the beast. Ha! And who ever said boars don’t have predatory instincts?

After retrieving an empty bowl from my cupboard I strut out the door and walk over to Michael’s house, bare hooves clopping against the pavement the entire way. When I get to the front door I raise my hand to press the doorbell only to notice something strange.

The door, it’s already slightly ajar.

He’s letting me in? Don’t mind if I do. Maybe he heard my hooves on the way here and wanted to quicken his progression from boy to man. I open the door the rest of the way and let myself inside. With my nose to the air I try and suss out where in the house he was, eventually following his scent to the kitchen table where the cookies I brought over yesterday remain. Strangely, another scent comes across my nose as I stand by the cookies. It’s faint, but I smell…fur dye…and…canine?

My heart quickens, there was someone else in the house? Is that why the door was open? Someone broke in? Ah! Blood pumping, I move through the house following Michael’s scent, eventually making my way over to his bedroom. But as I get closer I hear something else, the rhythmic squeaking of bedsprings. I quietly move to his door and crack it open.

What I see almost makes me have a heart attack.

Michael is lying on his back on the bed, and on top of him is none other than Brooke! That black furred bitch! Their naked bodies are connected at the waist, the wolfess rolling her hips as she milks Michael of his seed. Seed that belongs on my barren fields, not her fertile flower!

Slowly, Brooke’s eyes rise to meet mine. I scowl in response and she shoots me a smug smile. Her movements quicken and Michael groans lustily below her. She grips his shoulders and with a few final thrusts he explodes inside her, the young lovers orgasming at the same time. She lets off a loud ‘Awooo!’ and falls on top of him, subtly giving me the middle finger as they cuddle on the bed.

Filled with anger, yet unable to do anything as I'm not even supposed to here, I huff and storm off to the front door. But as I pass the kitchen table I'm reminded of the cookies I brought over. Cookies, cookies that Michael wouldn’t munching on since he’d be enjoying a cookie of a different sort for the rest of today. In a fit of petty rage I grab the platter of cookies off the table and stuff a few into my mouth, storming off to my own house.

As I start to cool down it all begins to make sense. Those ‘friends’ Michael mentioned earlier were no doubt Brooke and her pack. He’s a freshman and she’s a senior, so when he wanted a mature anthro he likely just meant an anthro a few years older than him. And his strange nervousness during the whole exchange, he was probably just worried that I’d figure out his lie, or maybe he was just intimidated by the size difference between us.

I slam my door shut and stomp into the living room. I know exactly what I’ll be doing the rest of today. Boxed wine here I come.

*******************

“Ahhh, you dumb bitch!”

I yell, throwing the remote at the TV. This is the seventh time the lioness’s husband has cheated on her and still she somehow forgives him! I shake my head in frustration and take another big sip of wine, my mind returning to the events of earlier today.

I just can’t believe it, do the youths of today no longer lust for that forbidden, wrinkled fruit? Do they no longer have a burning want for soft, motherly bodies and comforting hands? To be pinned down on their beds and relieved of their carnal innocence by an older, experienced woman? To be taught the art of lovemaking by someone who knows what they’re doing? Why would Michael choose that fur dye reeking skank instead of a nice maternal sow like me? Are my tusks too yellowed? My eyes too beady? My belly too soft? My breasts not full enough? Are…are old hags not ‘in’ with the youths anymore?

I can’t help but wipe my eyes and bawl at the ceiling with that last thought, eventually silencing myself with a monstrous sip of wine.

*Ding-Dong*

Ah, there’s the doorbell. I ordered a pizza earlier, no way I can muster the motivation to make my own food with the mood I’ve been in. Wiping the cookie crumbs off my sun dress, I shuffle to the door, world spinning as I take each step, damnit, that was too much wine.

“Hello Ma’am, I got a large meat lover’s pizza here for you. Your total is ten fifty, plus tip.” The pizza delivery boy greets me.

I get out my wallet to pay him only to find it…empty. I whimper and halfheartedly stamp my hoof on the ground.

“Damnit, I’ve got nothing to pay you with.”

The pizza boy shrugs and cocks his head, staring at me with a strange look.

“Umm, well, you know I do accept alternative forms of payment. If you know what I mean.” He says, wiggling his eyebrows.

In my wine drunk state it takes a while to understand what he’s getting at.

“Ohhh…you mean…right…checks, you accept checks.”

I retrieve a checkbook and sloppily fill one out, handing it to him.

“Thanks. Here you go ma’am.” He flatly replies, voice tinged with disappointment for some reason.

I take the pizza and go back to the couch, tearing the box open and practically inhaling the first slice of greasy goodness. Delicious, my sexual conquest may have failed today, but this pizza is more than enough to bring my spirits out of the dumps. While savoring a sausage filled bite I glance back at the TV and almost spit it out.

“I get up for five minutes and he’s already cheated on you again? You empty headed overgrown house cat! Just shoot him already!"