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… Week Eighteen…

“Can you zip me up, Babygirl?” Calill craned over Elan's lighted mirror as she gave her makeup a final touch. A perfectly filed claw kept the eyeliner straight and sharp.

“Gotchu, Girlie,” said Elan. A familiar black and yellow top closed around Calill’s lithe frame. Elan kissed his Houndoom on the cheek, careful not to disturb the light dusting of blush. “You’re getting good at this, hon. You’re probably better than me now.”

“You’re just saying that,” blushed Cal, looking exceptionally pleased with herself.

“Naw, hon, you’re a natural. I think Dad’s here. I’ll meet you downstairs, okay?” Elan stole another kiss and departed. He lingered at the threshold just long enough to ensure Calill saw him looking. Yellow really was her color…

“Don’t keep Ty waiting,” winked Cal. “I’ll be right there once I get my shoes on.”

"Mwah! See you soon." Elan blew Calill a kiss. Tyson was kicking off boots still wet with slush when Elan met him at the door. The 'Arc didn’t get a chance to take his coat off before his son had his hands all over him.

“Good to see you too,” huffed Tyson. Blue embers crackled at the corners of his mouth. The heat melted the accumulated snow on his mane. Elan stood on tiptoes to kiss him, snuffing out their glow. The daddy ‘Arc held Elan at arms length when they broke apart to better take in his outfit: a pastel sundress with bold blue and pink color blocking. The dress artfully hugged his curves, but his growing bump raised the bottom hem so that a stray breeze revealed the bulge beneath. The thong and stockings were the usual black, paired with his favorite black lipstick. “New dress, Kiddo?”

“Made it myself,” beamed Elan. He pressed himself to Tyson again so that his voice was muffled by the voluminous fluff of his mane. "Do you like it, Dearest?"

“Looks a treat on you, Lovely. Brings out your eyes.” growled Tyson. He rolled his hips. The gentle gyration pressed Elan’s curves against his abs. “Every time I blink you're getting better with that old sewing machine. I’m proud of you, Kiddo.”

“Daddy, you’re making me blush,” cooed Elan, grinding right back so that Tyson inhaled with obvious relish. “What’s your deadline tonight?”

“Told her I’d be out all night. Given how many parties I walked by on the way here I’m surprised I got my time off approved at all,” said Tyson, his voice low. Flynt University's campus was swathed in the final, liminal days of first semester: half of campus was partying free while the other half was still cramming for their last final before break.

“Good! It’s been too long since we’ve had time to play without needing to watch the clock,” said Elan, nuzzling possessively under Tyson's neck.

“You three are gonna keep me up all night, aren't you?" sighed Tyson. "What has Owyn got planned for us? Or is it a surprise?”

“You’ll see. There is one thing, though,” said Elan conspiratorially. He squeezed Tyson on the wrist in the way he'd seen Aideen do when she confided in her husband. “Cal is trying something new. We’re using ‘she’ and ‘her’ tonight. And don’t call her Calig, call her Calill, got it?”

“Arceus, there’s two of you now? You’re not rubbing off on her, are you?” Tyson groaned melodramatically.

“No, but I did rub off on her last night,” giggled Elan.

Tyson’s eyebrows raised. “What, just a hand job? You’re gettin’ lazy, Kiddo. Keep that up and another man might steal your girl right out from under you!” The two melted into snickers, heedless of the thunk of high platform combat boots stomping down the stairs.

“Are you two done fooling around? We don’t wanna keep our resident stud waiting.” Cal leaned casually on the landing. Her gold and black outfit popped against the dusky orange and grey-black of her fur. The lace hose, spiked bracelets, myriad belts, and the pentagram top cinched in such a way to give her silhouette a proper bust… despite everything, she was still Cal.

Tyson actually gasped. “Whoa… Elan what the hell did you do to land such a knockout?”

“Such a flatterer,” smirked Cal. She strode to Tyson with the diligent grace of one recently accustomed to heels. She inserted herself brazenly between Tyson and Elan and stole a kiss. The extra height of her shoes let her reach the daddy 'Arc without having to stand on tiptoes like Elan. Tyson was left dumbstruck when she squeezed his bulge. He exhaled blue sparks that illuminated the glitter in Calill's makeup.

“Are you three done warming up over there? I’ve been waiting all goddamn night!” Owyn barked from beyond the second bedroom. The three shared a look. Cal took the lead with Elan and Tyson dazzled in her wake. They found Owyn sprawled supine on his bed in a way that made him look just too big to be allowed. He wore nothing but heavily tented boxers.

“You just come back from the gym, Big Boy? You reek,” grunted Tyson.

Owyn rust-red sparks glinted in Owyn's fangy smile. “Don’t complain at me, Old Timer, especially not when I can see your tail wagging.”

Elan stifled his laugh as Tyson struggled to still his tail. Obviously the appetite for boystink ran in the family. “Maybe my Dearest is just excited to see me,” purred Elan, eager to stir the pot.

“And as lovely as you are, Kitsy, I hope you haven’t forgotten who’s calling the shots tonight,” Owyn said smugly.

Tyson smirked. “Oh, I’ve been briefed. I’m just wondering why you’re a sweaty mess on the bed when the lovely lady on your arm took the effort to get all dolled up.” His eyes darted uncertainly from Calill to Elan and back. Calill beamed and Elan pressed a thumbs up into the small of his daddy’s back.

“Maybe my girl likes her meat well-seasoned,” retorted Owyn. He ran a hand underneath Calill’s black miniskirt to give her ass a squeeze. Her wagging whiptail bounced against a pillow. “And so does yours, Ty. She’s practically drooling all over her dress."

"If we're doin' a wife swap you better show my Lovely proper respect," Tyson said pridefully. "It's important to recognize all the effort she goes into looking pretty."

"And you’re throwing some pretty big stones from a glass house, Old Timer," jabbed Owyn. "I see you in your discount jeans and rent-a-cop badge.”

Elan made a face at Owyn. His tails shimmied Tyson out of his clothes and they crumpled in a heap between his ankles. The brass campus security badge thumped against the rug. Tyson's plumped sheath belied his scowl. Elan relished how Tyson's cock throbbed against his hands when the 'Arc brushed against his baby bump.

“So are you just gonna bare your fangs all night, puppy?" pouted Elan. "I’m not hearing a lot of orders from the man who’s calling all the shots.”

“All in good time,” said Owyn. He was content to let Calill play with his enormous sheath just as Elan played with Tyson's. Even at half-mast, Owyn was the kind of massive that commanded attention. Owyn preened his mane, self-satisfied. “Last time I got the full tour of your cock, Old Timer. And I gotta say, I can see why Kitsy was so down to let you put a litter in him. But since you're givin' me attitude why don't we put that mouth of yours to work tonight? Hope you’ve been practicing on that pretty little’ thing hanging off your arm.”

“I, uh, I'm supposed to fit that whole thing in my mouth?” Tyson shot Elan a look.

“Daddy, I have given you plenty of live demonstrations. It is extremely doable,” giggled Elan.

“Yeah, Kiddo, I know," murmured Tyson. "But you’re the one who’s good at this sort of thing, not—”

They were interrupted by Calill's very unladylike snort. “Tyson, if you were bad at sex literally none of us would be here right now.”

“You’re thinking too small, old man,” smirked Owyn. He stretched out on the bed so that his bulk drowned the aged mattress. He rolled his hips and tugged at his ass cheeks. “C’mon, Tyson you know the rules.”

“Start with the blowjob, Ty, you’ve gotten enough of those to know your way around them,” encouraged Calill.

“That’s a good idea, Girlie. But maybe…” Elan trailed off as he dragged a finger through Tyson’s fur. He moaned when Tyson slid a hand up the small of his back. When they broke away Elan’s voice was a sultry whisper that nevertheless carried to their audience. “...maybe a little demonstration for you first?”

“Yeah. We gotta do this right. Wouldn’t wanna disappoint the big guy on his special night,” huffed Tyson, sinking into both the scene and his son's embrace. He sent Elan to Owyn's bed with a parting kiss.

Elan and Calill flanked Owyn on their hands and knees, rumps pointed high so the 'Arc could see under their skirts. Owyn's monstrous dick obstructed their view of each other. Elan peeked around it, whispering ensure so only Calill could hear. “You look amazing, Girlie. Having fun?” Calill giggled and kissed him, plunging her tongue deep into the foxboi's muzzle as if she could still taste Tyson lingering on his lips.

"On your knees, Daddy," barked Owyn. The order awakened some instinct in Tyson, perhaps an echo of the discipline instilled in him by his time in the Navy. The older 'Arc snapped to attention and flushed.

Tyson leered at Elan and Calill, the glint of their fangy smiles reflected in his blue eyes. "Why'd you delinquents have to tell him about that?"

"Don't look at us," said Calill, hands clasped before her pentagram top in profane innocence.

"Yeah, you always give the orders when I'm with you, Daddy," said Elan. "I guess Mom's been teaching you new tricks now that I've left the nest."

"Maybe," harrumphed Tyson.

"Don't give me that look, Old Timer," said Owyn, thoroughly enjoying himself. His massive mitts slid under Elan and Calill's skirts as he bantered. "How're you supposed to learn a thing if you're not in the front row seats? So be a good boy and get. On. Your. Knees."

“Yes, uh— I mean, uh— Yes, sir,” fumbled Tyson. He knelt at the end of the bed, his face was framed between Owyn's knees. His alert ears and wagging tail sent Elan and Cal into birdsong titters.

"Socialize on your own time, ladies. Show the old man how two pros suck dick good," preened Owyn.

Elan and Calill peered around Owyn's erection and shared a look. Their lips lowered, one at the base, one at the tip, for their first taste. Their tongues basked in the sweat-salt and cozy cinnamon. Calill circled her pink-painted fingers around the shaft to steady it: a single errant twitch could send it wobbling out of her reach like a branch in a windstorm. She lavished the tip in black kiss marks, distinguishable in the half-light only by the flecks of gold. Rivulets of precum ran over her hands that left Owyn slick despite the copious surface area.

Elan eschewed his hands. He nuzzled against the sheath where the fur was stretched by the burgeoning knot. He coaxed the shaft fully out of its housings with playful nips and kisses. He probed deeper into the loose fur that hugged the base of Owyn's crotch. The flesh wasn't as girthy there, but the firedog's abundant scent coursed through Elan's body with a galvanic thrill. Owyn rewarded Elan's efforts with an encouraging squeeze. A thong snapped against flesh that wasn't his own: Calill was being rewarded in turn.

The pair traded places, wordless yet unprompted. They kissed along either side of Owyn's shaft, muzzles flooded with the heady musk of abundant precum. Elan and Calill lingered when they met in the middle. They struggled to kiss each other while still servicing Owyn. They were forced to circle around to one side or the other for a sloppy sideways smooch that let them taste the 'Arc on each other's lips. They kept their hands busy too: scritching the firedog's soft tum, squeezing a thigh, or hefting one of his virile nuts. Heavy panting swirled in the darkness. Elan could tell Tyson's breathing had fallen into time with Owyn's.

Elan was now poised at Owyn's highest peak. He relished the taste at the source, lapping lazily at the flow so that his thirst was slaked as the excess trickled between his fingers. From his vantage he could see the others lose themselves to the spectacle. Calill probed into Owyn's depths with a vigor that smeared her blush. Tyson sat at attention, erection unattended and twitching in time with his greedy breaths. Owyn was basked in the attention, eyes closed and one leg kicking feebly in the air as Cal rubbed his tummy. The only parts of Owyn that weren't at rest were his hands. He groped vigorously to reward Elan and Cal's expert ministrations. A thick thumb pushed into Elan's eager hole with a _ schlick _. The 'Arc wiggled inside Elan, forcing the foxboi to clutch Owyn's enormous cock to his chest for support when he brushed against his prostate.

"Yeah, that's how it's done," groaned Owyn.

"You know me, Softie, I aim to please," Calill said as she emerged from his sheath.

"Damn right you do," huffed Owyn. He gave Calill's ass an appreciative pat. He hadn't fingered her like he did Elan. "I'm gonna be spoiled by these good girls if I'm not careful."

"Wait, if we're both good girls, who's the best girl," mewled Elan. He pleaded to both Owyn and Tyson with wide, blue eyes. He played the part well, but his supplications weren't for him but for Calill.

"Hard to say. I'm biased, after all," said Tyson. He cupped Elan's cheek and kissed him. He winked so only his son could see when they came apart.

"Yeah, me too," Owyn said, a little dazedly. He couldn't reach Calill's muzzle for a kiss. Instead, he gently tugged her dick behind her thighs. He brushed his lips in a line down her shaft, making Cal's whiptail slash through the musky air.

"I hope you don't hold it against me, Lovely, but I think we both know who the best girl here is." Tyson took Elan's hand in his, so that the foxboi's thumb brushed against the warm gold of his father's wedding ring. Together they fell upon Calill. They took turns: one would lock lips with her while the other ravished her cheeks, her neck, her collar, the valley between her sculpted top where breasts might be. Their attentions left Calill beaming bright as the apple-red flames dancing on her muzzle.

"Well, looks like the Old Timer got over his cold feet," smirked Owyn. "How about you stop tryna' steal my girl and show me what she taught you?"

"I'm not stealing anything," said Tyson indignantly. "Even a married man can appreciate a fine woman when he sees one."

"Nothing wrong with getting a few samples with my Dearest," purred Elan. "I could even go for seconds."

"I'll bet you could, Kitsy," growled Owyn.

Elan shot Owyn a wink and returned to his cock. Tyson and Calill joined him, kissing blindly at each other or the needy cock between them. All four pairs of hands roamed, eager for the warmth of another without showing preference. He relished how they lingered over his bump or the curve of thighs that had grown voluptuous with prenatal weight. Elan's field of view was largely obstructed by Owyn, but he could identify the hands upon him by touch alone.

Owyn's grasp was bombastic but sensitive: he demanded attention yet knew to never ask for more than another could give. Tyson's paws were rapacious, inquisitive even. Strong, tender fingers ravished the 'Nines, quivering in anticipation of the next touch. And Calill… Her nail left a furrow in Elan's fur, drawing ley lines for the others to follow so they might find the erogenous zones that she and only she had found within him. Only her touch resonated with sweet memory of their very first, pouring out of her fingers and into the tips of his tails and toes.

"I don't know why you were nervous, Dearest. You're a natural," Elan struggled to maintain his sultry lilt between ragged breaths.

"Everything's easier when you show me the way, Lovely," winked Tyson.

"Well lucky for you lesson time's not over," panted Owyn. His hyper erection twitched expectantly.

"It's easier than it looks, Ty," purred Calill.

"Easier, huh? I'd fuckin' hope so," Tyson eyed Owyn warily. "You know, this whole jig is up if I have to explain to Aideen why I was sent to the hospital with lockjaw."

"You're overthinking it, Dearest. The most important thing is to relax," encouraged Elan. He planted a smooch on Owyn's tip and made a show of relaxing his jaw. The 'Nines jaws yawned open till he had to squint. He sank lower... lower... lower... Blue eyes glistened beneath his curtain of alabaster bangs. He felt all eyes fixated on him, his stretching cheeks, his bulging throat. He reveled in their awe, their anticipation, their hunger. He languidly withdrew back up to the tip, tongue lapping at fragrant precum. His cheeks twitched upward in his best approximation of a smile while his mouth was so full. Elan was luminous when he came up for air. "Your turn, Daddy."

Tyson held Owyn's shaft gingerly in both hands, as if he were handling a live bomb. He peered around it as to determine the optimal angle to approach such a monumental task. To his credit, he didn't take long to accept that there was really only one way to take the other 'Arc. His muzzle dipped, tongue just barely protruding to protect Owyn's flesh from an errant fang. Tyson and Owyn inhaled sharply through their nose at the contact. The daddy 'Arc made a show of bobbing his head as Elan had done with him. Each motion dipped his nose just a little lower, eyes wide with his own daring. Elan encouraged him by caressing his neck with a warming tail. To his astonishment the 'Nines could feel Owyn's heft even through his father's flesh.

"H-How was that, Big Guy?" Tyson said with swelling bravado.

"You been leading me on, Old Timer?" Owyn barked. "If I hadn't heard you spend half the night whinging I'd have thought you'd done this before."

"S'pose I picked up a thing or two after all," Tyson said. He caressed Elan and Calill with each hand. "All thanks to these lovely ladies."

"Go on you scoundrel," tittered Elan.

"We'll make a cockslut out of you yet," cackled Owyn.

Calill surprised everyone by pulling Tyson in for a deep kiss. Elan saw his Daddy's eyes go wide as Calill plunged her tongue into him again and again. A trail of saliva connected their lips when they broke apart. "Y'know, Ty, you taste even better with another man's dick on your lips."

"I was right, Elan. You are rubbing off on her," groaned Tyson.

"How about rubbing off on me? Or are you three not done fooling around?" pouted Owyn.

"So impatient." Calill rolled her eyes as she took Owyn in her muzzle. She lowered herself down and back in a single fluid motion. She lingered at the limits of her reach, leaving a gold-flecked ring behind. "Think you two can manage that?"

They made a game of it. Calill would leave a new mark for Elan and Tyson to meet. Elan was better at taking Owyn than Calill, and Tyson gave it his best effort. By the fourth go-around his nose was less than an inch from the first glittery mark Calill had left behind. Owyn's breath oscillated between deep, contented rumbles and fervent gasps. A shock of pleasure coursed through the chubby 'Arc just as Elan was poised to go down again. Owyn's hips bucked unexpectedly, a loud _ thwap r _ang in Elan's ears, and he saw stars.

“Careful with that thing, you big lug,” complained Elan.

“Maybe we should hang a ‘baby on board’ from your tail so he’ll remember who’s carrying the precious cargo around,” teased Calill.

“It was your time to get off the ride anyway,” smirked Owyn. He leaned back and presented his spread ass cheeks. “C’mon old man, You knew this was coming."

“You kids act like this is all so easy. Do you really just… you know…” He jerked his head in the direction of Owyn’s tailhole. "Did you just fucking wink at me with that thing?"

“Wait, you’re tellin’ me you’ve been married to that pretty little wife of yours for twenty years and never ONCE eaten out?” Owyn cackled.

Tyson blinked, nonplussed. “I, uh— what?!”

“Damn, you really gotta be shown everything around here. Watch and learn, old man!” Owyn rolled his eyes. He scooped Calill into the air with a single, massive paw. Calill scrabbled to stabilize herself but needn't have bothered: Owyn balanced her effortlessly, like a waiter with an oversized tray. The 'Arc flipped up Cal's skirt with a jerk of his snout and hooked her panties with one fang. He tugged the fabric away and ostentatiously licked his chops.

The first stroke of Owyn's tongue made Calill go limp. She clung blindly to his bulk, smearing foundation over the dark fur of his tummy. The second elicited a squeak from the dark-type Elan had never heard her make before. The third left her quivering and weak, but the fourth sparked some latent motivation in Calill so that she humped erratically against Owyn's arm. Her cock leaked freely, leaving Owyn's wrist fluff musky and matted with damp spots.

Elan and Tyson were left transfixed by the display. The Ninetales gently nudged his Daddy. “You can’t beat around the bush forever, dad. And for all your performance anxiety, your tail is certainly eager to play.”

"Quiet, you," grumbled Tyson. He kept his voice low but Calill and Owyn didn't seem to be listening too hard.

“You liked it when we tried it all alone. Remember your Father’s Day gift last year?” encouraged Elan. He "helpfully" spread Owyn's legs a little wider for his Daddy.

Tyson shot Elan a look and positioned himself under Owyn's balls. He licked once and Owyn's booming bark cut through Calill's moans. Encouraged, Tyson pushed deeper between Owyn's legs. The chubby firedog's hips bucked and Elan frantically snatched at Owyn's shaft to save Calill from being stuck in the face as he'd been. He considered the thing in his hands but was content to forgo further mouth work. Instead he stroked it idly and peered over Owyn's thighs to watch his father work. Owyn and Calill keened behind him in discordant bliss.

But Tyson stopped just as he began eating out Owyn in earnest. Slowly, he emerged from behind the slope Owyn’s chub, his eyes icy and shrewd as a winter sunrise. He looked at Elan with such ferocity that even the glob of his saliva dripping from a fang didn’t diminish his scowl. Everyone in the bedroom was suddenly so still that their breath caught in their throat.

“You lied to me, Elan,” said Tyson, gruff and heavy with the harrowed disappointment only a father could muster against a child caught with his hand in a cookie jar. “He doesn’t taste like Takis at all.”

The silence between the four held for but a moment. They exploded into a storm of laughter all at once. Elan’s shoulders heaved and he had to clutch Owyn’s erection like a sailor clinging to the mainmast. Calill’s yaps were cut off by a yelp and a thump as she was sent tumbling off the side of the bed. Owyn’s booming barks lit the gloom with umber flame.

“What pretty little words are you whispering in the old man’s ear, Kitsy?” cackled Owyn.

“I’m not the kind of girl to kiss and tell,” giggled Elan.

Tyson surprised everyone by interrupting the banter. “Open your legs, big boy, I’m not done with you.”

“Not so scary now that you've got a taste,” smirked Calill, looking distinctly rumpled as she emerged from beneath the bed.

“I got the good riiiiiiight here,” said Owyn.

"Don't let it go to your head," grumbled Tyson as he buried himself in firedog rump again.

"Which one?" said Owyn, tongue lolling with obvious relish. "The big head or the bigger head?"

"The bigger head," said Calill, kissing Owyn right on his cocktip.

"I should hope not." said Tyson, voice muffled. "Any bigger and you'll split my son in half."

"You should- HUFF -be th-than- PANT -thanking me, Old Timer," panted Owyn. He patted Elan clumsily on his rounded womb. "J-just think of it as- RRRFF -as d-dilation practice for the big day. F-fuck I'm close."

"And you said you wouldn't be good at this," teased Elan. Owyn wasn't lying: every twitch or throb threatened to jerk the Arcanine's cock from his grasp.

"Finish it, then," grunted Owyn. "That is, if you think you can handle it."

"Oh, ye of little faith." Tyson licked his chops, blue flame flickering at the corners of his mouth. He took Owyn in his mouth again, plunging his muzzle to the first, then second ring of glitter encircling Owyn's girth. Calill and Elan flanked him, watching with baited breath as the daddy 'Arc swirled his tongue as best he could around all the meat in his muzzle. Owyn groaned, fists clenched and fat nuts tugging up against his taint.

Elan's astonishment reflected in Calill's face. They were poised to take over the moment Tyson reached his limit, but he was still in his stride. They counted every heavy _ glug _ as Tyson swallowed... swallowed... swallowed... The 'Arc emerged with a sputter after the sixth gulp. Elan and Calill darted in, alternating each load so one could swallow while the other's muzzle filled. Calill managed only four "mouthfuls" before tapping out, leaving Elan to Owyn's final throes. He pressed 'Arc cock to his thin chest and let Owyn's warmth fill out his belly. The foxboi's belly pressed heavy against Owyn's still-throbbing knot by the time they were spent.

Calill's smile was the first thing to greet Elan when he opened his eyes. She laid across the smokey-fluffed expanse of Owyn’s gut, spattered with Arcanine nut. She had a tummy in each hand so she could give them the good rubs at the same time. “I think you cut that dress a little short on the bottom hem, Babygirl. You won’t be able to wear it in a few weeks without flashing your sheath to everyone.”

Elan's erection tickled the bottom of the dress as if in agreement. He shrugged. “It’s not like I’m gonna need maternity clothes forever.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” teased Calill.

A low moan from below interrupted Elan from further banter. A hand shakily reached over the side of the bed and pulled its owner upright. Tyson leaned against the bedpost, legs quivering as he massaging a gut that sloshed as noisily as Elan’s. “I’m a bit too old to be doin’ keg stands.”

"Don't sell yourself short, Old Timer," panted Owyn. "You still got that dog in you, yet."

"I thing we a- HIC -all got that dog in us," hiccuped Calill. She squeezed Owyn's nuts and he squirmed gleefully beneath her touch.

Tyson caressed Elan's cum belly with paternal concern. "Is it good for you to swallow so much, Kiddo? I don't want you getting sick."

"Just the opposite," Elan said, glowing with pride. "Sucking dick settles me better than ginger ale now. Maybe the kits like the taste."

"How can I tell you're not joking?" Tyson said, beleaguered. "Hope you told those lovely parents what they're signing up for."

"Oh they know," smirked Calill. "Milo and Felicity invited us up for a photo shoot in the new year."

"The kits will be in good company. That is if being a freak runs in the family," said Owyn.

"And here I was praying to Arceus that Elan broke the mold," sighed Tyson. "So you kids really just... take all that?"

"Every time," hummed Elan.

"Every time?" said Tyson, skeptically. "Seems like a lot of work, given the mischief you delinquents get up to even when I'm not here."

“It's laziness, mostly,” shrugged Calill.

Tyson raised his eyebrows but Elan answered for him. “It's not that deep, Daddy. We like sucking dick more than mopping and laundry. Besides, doesn’t it feel good to be so full?” Elan tail tickled the slight swell in Tyson’s middle. He hadn’t swallowed as much as Elan so his abs were still visible over his newly acquired paunch. An unexpected moan pushed past Tyson's muzzle.

“The dad bod is a good look for you, Old Timer. Ever thought about bulking for the winter?” Owyn jeered.

“M-makes sense, I guess,” stuttered Tyson, pointedly ignoring Owyn. “Arceus look at this mess.”

“Occupational hazard of being hung as fuck,” grunted Owyn from behind them. He let his huge half-erect member flop about lewdly before falling heavily onto his white-stained stomach.

“Why don’t you help me clean up in the shower,” said Owyn. He swished his tail so that the fur brushed against Tyson’s unrelieved erection.

“How’re we supposed to both fit in there, big guy,” said Tyson, but he jerked his head towards the bathroom.

“You make it fit just fine in me, Daddy,” giggled Elan. He grabbed Owyn by the tail, lifting it to show off his tailhole. Tyson growled appreciatively.

“I have another idea,” said Owyn. He procured Elan's training plugs and a bottle of lube from the nightstand. “Something tells me you’re gonna need to practice before you take me to the knot. We gotta get you ready for Fuck Token number three.”

Tyson gulped nervously, but his tail whapped against the bedpost. “Well, if the Kiddo can do it…”

“That’s the spirit, ‘Ol Timer,” crowed Owyn. He rolled off the bed and swaggered towards the shower, Tyson following close behind. The hiss of water didn’t quite obscure the grunts and barks that could be heard beyond the door.

Elan and Calill were left in a tangle on Owyn’s bed. The warmth of afterglow and musk pressed heavier than a blanket against their heaving chests. The ‘Nines was left with a giddy smile plastered over his face and he closed his eyes to bask in the pure sensation. When the world swirled back into focus, Cal was looking into his eyes not with shared euphoria but trepidation. Elan's bliss was dispelled by sudden worry. “Cal, hon… are you feeling alright?”

“I— I dunno. I think I feel good. I think I feel great, actually, or… at least part of me does. I— am I just talking gibberish to you?” Cal’s lips were trembling. So were her hands. Elan held them without hesitation. “Babygirl, can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” whispered Elan.

“You… you had fun tonight, right?” Cal chewed her lip as she tried and failed to hold Elan's gaze. The effort of biting back further questions had left the tip of one fang stained black from her lipstick.

Elan sighed softly. A tail fished around in the rumpled sheets till it found something hard and rectangular. He was looking for his phone, but found Calill's instead. Elan unlocked it and turned on the front-facing camera. He held the black metal case high with a coiled tail so that the screen showed them both: clothes stained and limbs entwined. “What’s it look like? You tell me.” His tone was pointed, but permissive. C’mon, you dope. You’re the one who’s gotta say it.

“You don’t mind, then? That I—” Cal’s words caught in her throat, but right as Elan tried to reply that the rest spilled out all at once. “It’s just that back when we first started dating you told me you never really liked girls.”

“Cal, a lot has happened since high school,” said Elan. He tried to be gentle, but the ‘Nines had to conceal his own concern from his voice as he soothed Calill: he’d never ever seen her lose composure like this. “Do you want to start doing more girl stuff than wearing my clothes around the house? Should I take you shopping?”

“Does it even count if I’m just doing clothes? You wear cute stuff all the time and you never say you’re anything but a guy and—” Cal’s babbling was cut off when Elan put a single finger to her lips.

"Take a breath, hon," said Elan. He squeezed her wrist and that seemed to brace her. "And as for the clothes, do you want it to count?"

"I— no… yes? Maybe?" Calill flinched, as if her confession seared even her fireproof fur.

"Have you talked to Owyn about all this? I can tell this has been eating you for a bit," asked Elan.

"Owyn likes girls," shrugged Calill.

"Calill, are you..." Elan hesitated. He'd hoped she wouldn't make him ask this question. He was confident of his answer but saying it at all would make her guilt worse. "Are you afraid I’d stop loving you if you transitioned?"

"I'm afraid for a lot of reasons, Elan." Calill inhaled shakily. “I’ve been trying to figure out what exactly is going on with me, Elan. But I just don’t know. Part of me doesn’t want to take this skirt off again no matter how dirty it’s gotten. But also I don’t feel the way I think I’m supposed to. What if it’s just a kink thing I want to share with you? I dunno…”

Elan cocked his head. “Like you’re supposed to? Hon, I didn’t know there were rules to this. I mean, we’ve certainly been off-script for a while. Have you considered trying out non binary as a label?”

“I’ve thought about it… I’ve thought it would be, I dunno, fun, I guess, to land more on the girl side of the gender spectrum sometimes? I haven’t really figured out, like, exactly where?” Cal made wavering motions as if to measure the fluctuating differentials of gender feelings on a line. “But, you know, I still like having a dick. I’d be especially sad to lose it after we’ve been living together.”

Elan was caught between exasperation and being genuinely touched. “Trans gals are allowed to top and like their junk, Cal. That was always allowed.”

“Yeah but… would you still want me if I was more girl-flavored? What if you stop finding me sexy? Or worse, what if I go through with it and find out I was faking the whole time?!”

“And what if doing this makes you happier?” Elan challenged. He fiddled with one of the straps that made the pentagram over Calill’s chest. She was really not making this easy. “And as for if you’re faking? I just wear the cute clothes because I’m a slut who likes attention from hot guys. It's never gotten any deeper for me than ‘gender subversion is hot.’ But you? You lit up like a Christmas tree when I first put you in a dress and makeup. You had a whole new name ready to go and you're currently petrified that I won't be attracted to you if you're a woman."

“Well when you say it like that,” mumbled Cal, sheepishly.

“Your labels are yours to define, Girlie,” encouraged Elan. “I’m a simple femboy so I’ve never had to struggle with what you’re feeling. Don’t quote me like I’m an expert on this stuff, but I wouldn’t say you’re experiencing very cisgender thoughts.”

Cal held onto Elan’s hand so tight it stung. “Elan, I need you to say it. I’m afraid to do this without you.” There was a quaver in her voice Elan had never heard before.

“You won’t have to, Calill. I love you and I don’t ever want to stop loving you,” Elan pulled Calill in for a kiss. Their embrace persisted long after. “Calill, I’ve done so much stuff that would’ve been deal breakers for anyone else but you’ve been here with me this whole time. How could I break up with you over something as harmless as being a girl?”

“What do you mean? You’ve never done anything bad to me?” said Calill.

“What do I mean? Cal, how many other people would be down if I texted them ‘hey, gotta cancel date night I’m gonna try and fuck my dad?’ Or what about ‘I’m boy-pregnant and the pups might be my father’s?!’ And that’s just your loyalty. You’re sweet and attentive and fun and I could keep us up all night listing out all the things about you I like.”

“Why would I complain about all that stuff Elan? I like caring for people I love. Plus, seducing your dad in that dress was hot! And as for the pups…” Calill growled and ran a hand over Elan’s belly. “You’re acting like things I find sexy are these big relationship-ending calamities. It’s not—”

“Calill, now you’re just being dense,” interrupted Elan. He cupped Calill’s face in both his hands so that she couldn’t look away. “How many people have told us to our faces that being open would be a deal-breaker for them? Now throw in an unplanned pregnancy and fucking my goddamn father. You are not a dime a dozen. And maybe I like you in a dress and makeup too, huh? You’re hot as fuck right now!”

Calill squirmed beneath Elan’s hands. “I was afraid, like, ‘what if he just liked me being a femboy?’ Like the dress and the pronouns and stuff would just be another thing we did in bed. That it was all just… pretend…”

“You really need me to spell it out for you, huh?" Elan sighed. "You’re right: I’ve been pretty boy crazy as long as I’ve been old enough to know what that means. And you’re also right that I haven’t given much thought about how attracted to women I am. But the way I see things, I don’t need to be attracted to women. I need to be attracted to a woman. I’m attracted to you because I love you, and if you change and it makes you happy then I will still be attracted to you. Hell, maybe along the way I’ll find out more about myself, too! But no matter what: I. Will. Always. Love. You.”

Calill’s lips quivered. “I’m sorry Elan… I’m sorry I was so afraid I doubted you.”

“You don’t need to apologize for anything, Calill. It’s okay for you to be scared right now. And it’s okay to ask for help, too. We’ll do everything at your pace. Me and Owyn and Dad will all be there for you.”

Calill let out a held breath. “I, uh, I really needed to hear that. Love you, Babygirl.”

“I love you too, Girlie.” Elan nuzzled against Calill’s neck. “Hey, do you want me to tell Dr. Larson to up my hormone doses? Just a little trial run until we can get you a proper prescription?”

“Yeah. I think I’d like that.”