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Autumn officially began on the first of September, but unfortunately, it was still hotter than the middle of July.

The baking heat had been cooking us alive in Second Chances, fluctuating between ninety and a hundred degrees Fahrenheit. I had been out in the fields alongside the triplets and other farmers, working to water the crops. Everyone was shirtless, decked out in shorts so low they were practically undies. The sweat was soaking our fur and making movement almost unbearable. Occasionally, I’d need to blink away heavy droplets of sweat pouring into my eyes, blinding me every several seconds. Sometimes, I’d literally need to pour some water over my head or drink from the pitcher itself to stay hydrated.

It was worse for the triplets; Ambrose and Blaine on my left and Cliff on my right. Their fur wasn’t short like mine, and the perspiration clung like old perfume. Admittedly, it didn’t stop their muscular backs and taut buttocks from being so…defined.

Once or twice, I nearly popped a boner, and I guessed they did too, being so close to me.

Sunlight weighed us down like blankets. We were too distracted by the task at hand to care about modesty. Between the heat wave, an incoming thunderstorm, and the upcoming winter harvest, Second Chances needed to nurture its crops. It had been tedious due to one of the watering hoses being damaged, which required us to go back and forth to refill the pitcher again and again. All to cover one section of field.

Thankfully, the four of us were so close…to…being…

“Done!” I gasped, panting as I stretched my back and raised my arms in the air, sweat- drenched thumb hooked around the pitcher. Something in my joints popped and crackled. “Oh, God...”

“Thank Him once we scavenge for a new hose!” Cliff trilled. Using a thumb to wipe away the sweat trickling into his eyes, the youngest cat sniffed a raised arm pit, still gripping his own pitcher in a paw. He wrinkled his whiskered nose in disgust, gagging. “Bleh, I’m so fuckin’ gross…”

“You’re always so stinky and musky, bro,” Blaine commented.

Cliff replied, “Nobody ever complained before.”

“If you think this is bad,” I informed the youngest cat triplet, “then imagine scavenging for food on the outskirts of Dallas. During the drought. In August, last year.”

Cliff stared at me like I’d mentioned being on the Moon. It was Blaine though, done with his row of planted crops, that spoke first.

“How the hell did you survive down there?!” he gasped. “I hear that temperatures are getting close to a hundred and ten, and Mexico is even worse!”

“Lots and lots of tiny sips from water bottles in my backpack,” I laughed. “Got lucky and found an abandoned dollar store. All the people who’d ransacked it over the years hadn’t thought to look inside the back rooms more.”

“Are you two done belly-aching?” Ambrose finally caught up with us, finishing his row as well. “Did you water each buried seed like Dad taught us?”

“We did, we did,” Cliff panted, waving his paw.

“Can we go take a shower now?” Blaine asked.

“You’re not acting spoiled, are you?” I pondered aloud.

Both Cliff and Blaine gasped dramatically, with Ambrose hiding a snicker behind his paw. “What did you call us?” Cliff demanded with a wry smirk. “We just finished thoroughly watering an acre’s worth of corn back and forth for the last few hours, have been doing this since the end of the world, and you’re saying that we’re getting soft?”

I shrugged and gave them each a grin. “I’m just saying, not all of us here had the luxury of spending the Collapse in an air-conditioned cabin,” I jested, and cackled as the two black felines threw their empty pitchers at me. I ducked out of the way. “Hey, I’m kidding! I’m kidding!”

“If you two are done,” Ambrose said after clearing his throat, “we should get back to Dad and see if the Hub has any other tasks for us to do.” Everyone collectively agreed, and we grabbed our pitchers before slugging towards the building’s direction.

It was amazing how ignorant the average pre-Collapse family took electricity for granted, and how much electricity was required to keep at least one industrial-sized air conditioner continuously running. In the case of the survivalist town of Second Chances, Zachary Sauveterre and the builders had been smart to add multiple different ways to generate power. The heat wave had killed the wind, making the small turbines almost useless. With the solar panels’ limited output, we were down to relying on the town's tiny hydroelectric dam to generate the majority of our power. Otherwise, the cabins would’ve turned into smokehouses.

Walking between the rows of cabins, I couldn’t see many familiar faces inside. Those who didn’t have daily chores or tasks to perform were spending their time either in the air-conditioned Mess Hall to watch an all-day movie marathon, or the equally air-conditioned Hub to see what could be done. The rest of the mammals stayed indoors to avoid the unbearable heat.

Speaking of the Hub, the massive three-story luxury cabin had an industrial-sized AC, and some mammals were taking full advantage of the building also being Second Chance’s town hall. I recognized a dozen or so mammals and their cubs simply lounging around while occasionally refilling provided cups of water. The cubs either drew pictures on recycled paper or repeatedly asked their parents when the sun would go away.

The triplets and I put our shirts back on and went straight upstairs to the mayor’s office, where we found their father Zachary talking with Andrew Lincoln, a middle-aged badger who served as a farmer and town councilman.

“—definitely gonna start building a swimming pool next year,” we heard Zachary telling the badger. “Won’t be easy though. Forget keeping it filled with fresh water, Andy, it’s going to take time to search for materials to make it!”

“We still got plenty of leftover concrete, steel, and grout, Zee,” we heard Andrew argue to the mustached feline. “I mean, we can already get started before winter comes, can’t we?”

“Do you have any idea how much more stuff we’ll need?” Zachary asked exasperatedly, rubbing his forehead.

“I get it. Who knows how many towns we’ll have to scavenge and search through to get all of that?”

“Look. I built pools before the apocalypse.” The older cat gave a deep sigh. “Second Chances is gonna need a working pump and filtration system, tiling, chlorine, none of which will be easy to find. Don’t forget that we’ll need to siphon off even more from the river too, or at least build a water tower solely for the pool. God, just thinking about it is giving me a migraine…”

“We could try finding inflatable pools at the superstores, Dad?” Cliff entered through the half-closed door. “Last time we stopped by Ironwood, the store still had some inflatable pool stuff left behind. We could try grabbing one next time.”

“That could work until we get the other materials we need,” Andrew agreed with a nod, wrinkling his nose and politely glancing away. Either because of the triplets’ heavy musk or because they looked so sexy in short shorts. As far as I knew, Andrew Lincoln had a wife and preteen, but every once in a while, I would catch him looking at me or Zachary’s sons with an…analytical gaze. “What do you think, Zee? Should we plan a pre-winter expedition?”

“Works for me,” he sighed, then reformed a smile to give me and his sons. “Donovan, ABCs, did you finish the watering?”

Ambrose, Blaine, and Cliff rolled their eyes at their father. I knew they hated the collective nickname he'd given them, but I'd always found it incredibly cute. “We did, Dad,” Ambrose spoke up. “We’re wondering if we could have permission to use the showers yet?”

Zachary wrinkled his whiskered nose as well, his mustache curving with his frown. “No, not yet,” he said, standing up from his desk and revealing the sweat stains under his shirt. “We need all the water we can for irrigation. We just need to wait a couple of days until the next rain storm.”

Cliff whimpered, “Dad, please—”

“I think I have a solution though,” Zachary continued. “I need to check the dam, open up the auxiliary spillway, and maybe we can kill two birds with one spill by having you come with me? Oh! And let’s stop by the house to get you boys some fresh shorts to bring with!”

The triplets’ eyes lit up in elation. They chirped in unexpected excitement, which Zachary took as an affirmation and turned to tell Andrew to keep hydrated. Meanwhile, I remained confused about what was going on but followed the cats and their father out of the Hub and towards the small mountain nestled against the town.

***

“Is that a…?”

“Yep.”

“And we can…swim in it?”

“Just as soon as we’re done opening the auxiliary spillway.” Zachary motioned for me and his sons to follow him in a nearby concrete shack. “C’mon, I’ll show you.”

During the (relatively) short hike around the base of the mountain, in which we followed a curved trail between dense wilderness, Zachary told us how the dam itself had been built decades prior to his father’s friends purchasing the property. An unincorporated town that had long since been abandoned once used it for fresh water, until the final residents moved out, and the property went to the doomsday preppers. Ever since, they had been keeping it well-maintained and polished.

The concrete walls of the dam nestled into the small river couldn't have been more than twenty feet long, and ten feet high, at most. It resembled less the Hoover Dam had more like a Brutalist building. Yet age on it showed in the mold and decay on what used to be smooth concrete. The control room next to the dam's edge was barely more than a shack and compared to the scarred exterior of the dam it seemed practically untouched. There were plenty of dust bunnies huddled in the corners, but otherwise, it seemed in near-perfect condition. The control panel worked like a well-oiled and maintained tractor, and as Zachary toyed with the controls, I witnessed it operating smoothly, water beginning to descend from the small reservoir into the stream at the foot of the dam.

“There! That should give us some more power,” Zachary said, beaming as he wiped sweat from his brow. “Now, let’s go swimming, boys!”

“Yeehaw!” The triplets cried out in unison, and I followed them and their father further down the reservoir. From there, we stood tired drenched in sweat before a beautiful sight: a tiny lagoon with a quaint beach, the crystal-clear forest water still and sparkling under shade-filtered sunlight.

Without a beat, or even waiting for permission, the triplets stripped off their clothes and kicked them aside, diving into the pool-deep lagoon one by one. Zachary laughted and put a bag of replacement clothes on the rocky ground, peeling off his shorts and shirt as well. I couldn’t stop blushing, but after weeks and months spent having sex with Zachary and his sons, I didn’t need much convincing to pull down my shorts either. Or follow the muscular black cat in after him.

My incredible erection instantly died the moment it went under the surface. The cold water baptized me. The tired, grimy, exhausted Doberman I’d become from working in the fields and hiking washed away. I felt refreshed like never before as my paw pads kicked at the rocky, grassy earth on the bottom of the lagoon, and I surged upward to gasp in sweet air. My legs kicked and my tail started floating and wagging beneath the small waves my cannonball dive had created.

Around me, four different black cats splashed and swam freely, occasionally tackling each other in fits of laughter. Me? I listlessly floated on my back, enjoying the cool water soaking my spine and swishing tail. I could even begin to feel my shriveled erection resurrect itself against my brown-furred stomach with each side-eyed glance at Zachary’s toned back or Blaine joyously wrestling with either one of his brothers. I watched carefully, trying to work out for myself if it was Cliff or Ambrose. Before I could figure it out my question was answered, as I felt teeth playfully bite at my ass underwater

“Yeow!” I gasped, kicking and swimming upright while rubbing the bike mark. A certain troublemaker emerged beside me, dripping and cackling like a madman while pointing. It could only be one of them, and I knew it immediately. “Cliff, you ass!”

“Hehe! Can ya blame me for tasting yours?”

My frown curved upward, and as Cliff laughed with an open mouth, I retaliated with a precise splash. He sputtered and coughed, and I leapt at the vulnerable feline. We tumbled into the water, emerging seconds later, only to be encircled by his brothers and father as they too sent volley after volley of fresh water in our direction.

I would wonder aloud why more residents didn’t venture to the dam. One of the triplets would explain to me that most of them didn’t find the hike, especially during a heat wave, worth the trouble. The distance also made things complicated if someone was seriously injured. An even more reason to construct a swimming pool closer within the town.

But my mind wasn’t focused on that just yet. I didn’t even try remembering the last time I had ever been in a (natural, but still) pool, let alone enjoyed myself so much in one. The previous few years always focused on survival and finding shelter hadn’t left me any time or energy to properly appreciate the simple act of swimming. I hadn’t pondered just how freeing it felt to splash around in a river. With three hot felines and their older father, no less, all four of whom easily accepted me into their community and family as a friend and lover.

Speaking of their father, Zachary had decided to opt out of the rough play after a good hour or so, floating on his back further near the edge before eventually sitting on the beach. Despite being healthy and fit for his age, fatigue had come easily to the black cat, and he told us to keep enjoying ourselves. Meanwhile, that was exactly what me and the ABCs did. We splashed big and loud. We tackled each other under and above the water, climbing and sometimes overpowering one another as we wrestled, giggled, and hooted in triumphant victory each time the water struck our opponent. At the moment, we weren’t surviving the end of the world as everyone knew it; we were young adults acting like hyperactive cubs at the community pool.

“You are going to have to try harder than that, Donnie!” Cliff cackled after I tried spitting water at him from a short distance, only for one of his brothers to pull him underwater by his hips, resurfacing seconds later. “No fair, Blaine!”

“He takes the youngest bro, puuuuulls him up!” Next, Ambrose tried mimicking an old wrestling match announcer, lifting Cliff up over his shoulders, only to be interrupted by Blaine tackling him mid-description. “He lifts him high; the crowd goes wild—Oof!”

I couldn’t stop laughing, watching all three black cats tumble and submerge in a big splash of river water. When they reappeared again, it wasn’t a surprise to find two or all of them being handsy, shoving or grappling their limbs whenever they weren’t patting an ass or groping it.

Throughout our time at the swimming hole, being so physical and playful caused us to get more flirtatious. Being out in the open without another soul for at least a mile, we got bolder. A kiss on the cheek or on the lips, a quick squeeze of the crotch or ass, a blind grab for the balls, kneading caresses on the back or purring nuzzles against the shoulders. I’d either growl into one of the triplets’ necks or the affectionate felines would give my exposed nipples a seductive tongue-lick whenever they got close enough to surprise me.

Skinny dipping without a care in the post-apocalyptic world certainly had an effect on us all. My twitching semi-hard on didn’t bother them, and neither did theirs bother me. Not after all of the incestuous orgies we partook in almost nightly at their cabin. Modesty and courtesy be damned. Soon enough though, I got distracted by something else.

Nearby, Zachary lounged on the small sandy beach, idly stroking his older cock, and watching us. Those obsidian-furred pecs of his glistened in the sunlight. His biceps rippled with sweat and drying fur from each firm jerk of his feline dick, and he winked in my direction, licking his upper lip seductively. He enjoyed the sight of his athletic sons and a Doberman fooling around like truant school boys. Gulping and blushing at my fully hardened boner peeking above the surface, I noticed the way his strong legs spread open to reveal his magnificent glutes. I also easily noticed white-furred scrotum that hung low to the lapping ripples of water hitting the sand. Truth be told, it distracted me enough for Cliff to attack. The world turned into crystalline liquid, and I suddenly couldn’t breathe, pushing my assailant away as I reemerged on the surface.

“Haaaaugh!” Gasping, I jumped back out from under the water, sputtering and marveling at his still rigid shaft. “Oh, God! Okay, time out! Haha! Time out, Cliff!”

“You okay there, Donnie?” The feline paused his roughhousing to look at me with concern. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Blaine and Ambrose paused their own playful teasing, only to resume when I said, “No, no. I’m okay. I’m good! Just need a bit of a breather.”

“Suuuuuuuure,” Cliff replied with a casual, if relieved smirk. His eyes followed mine directed at his lounging father by the small, sandy beach. “You go have that ‘breather’, hehehe.”

“Will do!” I proclaimed a little too loudly, and trudged through the waters, kicking my way to shore. By the time I got close enough to talk to Zachary in the shallower end of the pool, I already started to hear even more laughter and some lewd noises behind me. My tail wiggled with lustful excitement. Particularly as the older black cat locked eyes with me. “Hey, Zach. H-How are you doing?”

He rubbed his beautifully thick shaft as he spoke. “I’m doing great, Donovan…You?”

Oh my God. I started blushing again. No matter how many times he and I had shared a bed or had sex with him, that fatherly smile beaming up at me still made my legs want to give out. Or maybe that was from the previous hour or two spent playing around in the swimming hole?

“Look at you,” he observed with a flash of his fangs. “You’re really filling out.”

As I approached, water trickled and dripped down my naked body. Zachary was correct. Before meeting his sons back in the abandoned suburbs of what used to be Milwaukee, I’d been…somewhat on the verge of being skeletal. Weeks of consistent meals from the Mess Hall and completing daily tasks as a resident had not only given more meat to my bones but bulked me up as well. I wasn’t scrawny anymore. I could carry heavier logs of chopped wood. Not to mention having longer stamina too that allowed me to keep up with his sons.

“Why don’t you sit down?” he suggested, using his free paw to pat the spot to his right. “You boys worked really hard today, played hard.”

“What if I’m still hard?” I tried, and failed, to be flirtatious back.

Zachary laughed at my poor joke, humming as I rested my posterior in the wet sand, and purring when our upper thighs brushed together. I could feel him vibrate against me. It definitely didn’t help my erection go down, not that either of us wanted it to.

“If you’re still hard, I can help you.” His feline tail coiled around my shoulder like an arm, and I felt it pull me closer to him, if only by an inch or two. “If you’ll help me?”

His left paw reached over to guide my own to his crotch. In return, his right paw went to my own aching shaft. We both stifled moans when we touched each other and exhaled in deep pants when we started to stroke in tandem. Not even dry, and we were beginning to get sweaty again. Not that either of us cared.

I let out a huff. His thick member never ceased to amaze me. All ten inches of it had penetrated my holes, but holding it and caressing the pulsing, leaking tip with my trembling thumb…it hypnotized me. I couldn’t stop pumping the beautiful maleness. My fingers admired each nub of his feline barbs, and he firmly toyed with my emerging knot. It left us panting and gasping for air. Our muzzles and noses barely touched. Then, they connected in a way that muted everything into white noise—the triplets, the forest, the hydroelectric dam, the sounds of running water, splashing water, chirping birds and a weak breeze under oppressive heat. All of it disappeared with the sound of my delighted gasps reverberating into his jaws.

Compared to his rambunctious sons, Zachary Sauveterre always kissed with experience. Age had clearly given him the time to know how to thoroughly show affection to another man. He didn’t rush it. He leisurely spread my lips with his rough tongue and lathered my inner maw with his taste. It consisted of tobacco and old coffee and masculine vigor, with a hint of his sons from an earlier session in the morning. Either Blaine or Cliff, I was pretty sure. The knowledge of it sent shivers along my drying back, and I curled my toes into the sand as Zachary tasted my tongue more vigorously. His whiskers and mustache tickled my nose the further our making out went and the faster we jerked each other off, the feline brushing his fangs against my canines without being too rough. Or impatient.

Ambrose joined us moments later, leaving Blaine and Cliff on their own in the swimming hole. He emerged from the water like a Greek God, droplets trailing down his perfect abs identical to his brothers. One of whom had already sat on the edge of the natural pool with his legs spread, and the other bobbing his handsome head in a moment of déjà vu that sent me back to how I first encountered Blaine and Cliff. Instead of being in the parking lot of a derelict adult store, Cliff was pleasuring his brother here, in the middle of the woods beside a hydroelectric dam nearby.

Ambrose treaded over towards our spot. His cock looked unbelievably hard and pointed at us, the younger feline’s eyes lustful and hyper-focused on me and his father. Without waiting any longer, Ambrose sat to Zachary’s left, licking at his shoulder while pinching one of his meaty nipples.

Our lips abruptly parted. Drool dribbled sideway down my cheek. Zachary gasped at the attention from his son, jerking my shaft faster as a whimper erupted from the back of my throat. I gulped back a sweaty growl and mirrored Zachary’s actions, stroking him faster and watching the older feline crane his neck towards his son.

“Fuck me, Daddy,” he moaned.

“Not without lube, I won’t.” Zachary interlocked his whiskered muzzle with Ambrose. The eldest triplet shivered and cried out from parted, incestuous lips when I spotted his dad begin stroking his younger cock in unison with mine. “Grrr, I’m getting close…How ‘bout you two?”

“Same!” we exhaled together.

“Oh, Daddy! Daddy…”

“Oh, Zach…Zaaaaaach!”

“Ngh, grrr, b-boys, I’m…I’m gonna—ahhhhhh!”

Our three cocks spasmed together. We all cried out together as jets of sizzling canine and feline cum painted our bare, sweating stomachs. My own hot spurts managed to reach my breathless, bobbing Adam’s apple. It felt so warm, stained against my neck. I didn’t even notice the amount of Zachary’s seed all over my left paw until I felt it starting to dry.

Still out of breath and purring, Ambrose had cuddled up against his father, who let go of my flaccid member and patted my thigh. “C’mon,” he encouraged, purring too. “Let’s get washed up.”

The three of us weakly got up to our feet and waddled back into the welcoming waters. Across the other end of the swimming hole, we watched (and heard) Blaine along the lagoon’s edge. He shuddered as Cliff sucked him off like a dutiful sub, barely moving his head. We could easily see the satisfaction wash over the middle triplet’s expression while he humped a heavy load into his brother’s soft muzzle. With how loudly he orgasmed, it wouldn’t be much trouble for town residents to know what happened on the other side of the mountain. In all fairness though, the same could be said for me, Ambrose, and Zachary.

Eventually, the other two managed to gather enough strength to join us. Together, we washed out the grime and sweat and drying cum a second time. However, we didn’t horse around or play splash games again. We were all too tired. Though that didn’t stop us from exchanging romantic pecks or hugging as we all swam together. Yes, we even copped a feel of everyone’s buttocks when we had the chance.

***

Despite it feeling like the middle of summer, daylight had still been getting shorter, and nighttime arrived several hours later. By then, the temperature had cooled down enough for everyone to be outdoors again. Those not already nestled in bed before evening curfew sat casually outside on their hand-crafted porches. The triplets and I were no exception.

Swimming at the watering hole and the walk back, plus some additional projects to help out with, left us all feeling absolutely beat. We barely had enough energy to make it to the Mess Hall in time to enjoy some ice cream curdled up by one of the cooks, a delightful wolf named Rosie. Apparently, the cows provided too much milk to refrigerate, and Rosie didn’t want to let the extra bottles go to waste. As a surprise, she convinced the other cooks to help her pasteurize and curdle the milk into sweet vanilla custard, as well as ice cream. In her own words, it was a thank-you to everyone fighting to make sure she could keep feeding everyone.

On the front porch of the Sauveterre’s cabin, the triplets and I—fully clothed again in light eveningwear—lounged on the hanging rocking chair, a sturdy but comfortable wooden furniture. Ambrose claimed it to be an old family heirloom from his mother’s side of the family. He and Blaine were squeezed to my right, with Cliff nestled to my left, and I relaxed with their warm, purring forms into the soft, rocking bench as we looked out towards a pathway between cabins where fireflies danced. The way our tails swished and brushed over our toes made the mosquitoes flee, but not all, and yet nothing could have ruined that beautiful moment.

“God, I can’t remember the last time I tasted custard,” I commented at one point.

“Or ice cream,” Cliff murmured, his whiskers tickling my neck. “Mmmm, it was delicious.”

“Agreed,” Blaine whispered.

“Absolutely,” Ambrose also said, nodding. “Though the last time she made some was months ago. Donovan? When did you last have ice cream?”

One of my lazy ears perked up, and I pondered through my memories. “I think…a month before I got arrested—before the Incident. A classmate at school gave out slices of ice cream cake to everyone in his grade. Far as I remember, it tasted good.”

“You should mention your birthday to Rosie,” Cliff mentioned. “If we’re not rationing too badly, she sometimes like to bake a cake for everyone to celebrate. That’s what she did for us earlier in February.”

“Huh.” I hummed, then chuckled a moment later. “Air conditioning, a private swimming hole, ice cream, and cake? Are you sure Second Chances isn’t spoiling everyone, including you guys—Yeow!” My right pec stung from a small smack.

“My bad,” Blaine gave a cheeky mock apology. “Just saw a large mosquito.”

I stuck my tongue out at the lying feline. “Yeah, right.”

All four of us laughed, reminiscing of the day, and looking forward to the rain clouds predicted to come our way. Soon, the leaves would turn to gold, it would get colder again, and winter would stay until the first thaw. A year ago, I would’ve dreaded it. Having three handsome black cats cuddled beside me though, plus their father inside, made my worries of the future turn into light anxiety. And as the Sun settled under the horizon and the distant trees, the triplets and I eventually returned indoors.