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… Week Twenty-Six…

“Are you almost ready, Lovely?” Tyson stood outside one of the guest bathrooms. He dutifully kept his eyes forward as he waited. It was odd. Aideen was never coy about getting ready around him. Now’s a pretty rich time to worry about keeping secrets. The thought crashed over the wavebreakers of Tyson’s consciousness. But the murky waters receded just as fast as they arrived. He huffed indignantly and blue fire licked the corners of his mouth. This night was for them, for her, and everything would go as planned.

He distracted himself in the hallway mirror. His black blazer was as if he’d swatched it from his stripes. His mane was perfectly coiffed so that it spilled over the two unfastened buttons of his pale pink shirt. The fabric clung tight to his well-honed chest so that any wandering eye peeking beneath the jacket would have nothing left to the imagination. Just the way she liked it. Just as it should be.

“You look absolutely dashing.” Aideen purred throatily. She embraced Tyson from behind, her silken tails coiled around his waist and neck with beckoning warmth. Tyson turned so that he could see her in the reflection on the wall. Her hair and makeup were immaculate, as always. The black lipstick framed her smile and elegantly contrasted her pale fur. She was already wearing her wine red overcoat. The hem of whatever dress she chose must’ve been shorter than coat because the only thing Tyson could see of her outfit was long black stockings and matching evening gloves.

“What’s with the coat, Lovely? Is there a draft in here or something,” said Tyson. He hummed softly and leaned gently into his wife’s embrace.

“Don’t mind me, Dearest. I just don’t want to spoil the surprise.”

“That’s my line,” huffed Tyson.

“Speaking of, you haven’t told me where we’re going,” said Aideen as she traced two fingers over the shoulder seam of Tyson’s jacket.

“You’ll see soon enough. I’ll drive.” Tyson jangled the keys to Aideen’s SUV. The cab of his pickup never had enough room for her tails.

Aideen rushed downstairs, high heels clacking enthusiastically. They raced to see who got buckled first. The garage door revealed a winter landscape illuminated by moonlight and Aideen's high-lumen headlights. Tyson delayed their departure long enough to kiss her across the center armrest. Aideen returned with enough fervor to send blue and yellow sparks dancing across their clothes.

“When was the last time we’ve gone out for one of these holidays,” said Aideen wistfully. “Remember that one New Year’s Eve?”

“Don’t remind me. What a waste of shore leave,” grumbled Tyson.

“So what made you change your mind?”

“I dunno, something to do with the number twenty-five, I think,” said Tyson.

Aideen cocked her head. “But that one is the year after next, dear.”

“Yeah, if you’re measuring by when we got married,” smiled Tyson. “But not if we’re counting when we started dating.”

“Do clandestine rendezvous over diner waffles count as a date?” giggled Aideen.

“With you, of course,” winked Tyson. “Besides, if I ended up counting the dates wrong I can just… take you out again on the right day.”

“Since when did you need an excuse to pamper me?”

“Needing and wanting are two different things, Lovely,” said Tyson. He pulled to a stop sign and turned left instead of right. He focused on the road, but he could see dawning comprehension come over his wife from the corner of his eye.

“Tyson, where are we goin…” But Aideen trailed off. “Here? How did you get us reservations for today?! Any time I’ve tried they filled up before I can even call!”

“One of the benefits of working an overnight,” said Tyson proudly. “Right after I got off shift I ‘mistakenly’ called their customer service line instead of the restaurant. Since their offices open first thing in the morning I maaaay have convinced the customer service rep to put my name down for a reso early. All it cost me was a five star exit survey. Everyone else calling would’ve had to wait ‘till eleven when their doors open.”

“One of these days you’re gonna sweet talk the wrong person,” teased Aideen. "That charm of yours is gonna get you into trouble."

“Who would I be sweet talking besides you?” Tyson smiled to conceal his guilty swallow. His eyes snapped back to the road and he became preoccupied with finding a spot to park. By the time he realized he should have said more it was too late to rectify the error. “We’re here.”

The brick facade and glowing sign for Walnut & Redd's was reflected in Aideen’s passenger window. Even from the climate controlled cabin of her oversized car they could smell the savory smoke coming off the steakhouse’s roof vent. Aideen was already unbuckled. It was her favorite after all. “Are you coming, Dearest?”

“Right behind you, Lovely.” No hesitation this time.

The antechamber was packed with potential diners. Someone at the door offered to take Aideen's coat but she politely refused. Tyson raised a bemused eyebrow, but Aideen just shook her head. The people stood about aimlessly, oblivious to how they blocked the walkway as they anticipated their name being called. Tyson was forced to push between the throng to reach the Ampharos at the hostess stand. “The reservation is for Ardor. For the Cherrywood Lounge.”

“Right this way. We have your table ready.” A waiting diner shot the electric-type a restful glare and her smile faltered. Tyson shifted under the pretext of making room for Aideen. He hoped that his shoulders would block the miscreant's misplaced ire.

The pair instinctively flattened their ears to ward against the clamor. Basic navigation proved difficult. People were packed so tight that even the wait staff were one stray chair or tugged apron from spilling their trays. Their hostess ignored a clean and empty table and ushered them through a door tucked in a back corner. Aideen's face lit up with recognition and Tyson allowed himself a self-satisfied twitch of the muzzle. All according to plan.

There was a sudden absence of noise as they crossed the threshold, as if the Cherrywood Lounge was nestled in the Distortion World and not just the eastern wing. True to its name, the decor was rosy hardwood and maroon velvet. A central fire pit contributed to the woody, smokey aroma that permeated the venue and kept the winter gloom at bay. Tyson and Aideen were sat at a booth artfully set with candles, a single rose in a thin vase, and a bottle of wine already on the table. Unlike the main dining room, the seating was spaced so sound did not carry between tables.

“Tyson, how did you...” Aideen whispered in disbelief. She examined the brass placard engraved with “A&T Ardor” in leaf-like font. Their hostess laid down their menus and then took the bottle of red wine and held it label-out while she opened it. Aideen instantly recognized the Fireglass label but her jaw dropped when she saw the year. A sample of the wine was poured and proffered to the Ninetales but she didn’t take the glass. She was looking right at Tyson, half awestruck, half interrogative.

“I know what you’re going to ask, Lovely. Try the wine instead,” said Tyson soothingly. This wasn't the night to talk about money. He licked his fingers playfully and pinched the candle flames. When he withdrew his hand the flame burned blue as his eyes. The flames were small but their intensity of shone off the dark wood finish. The glow drew the eyes of other diners despite themselves.

Aideen started and mumbled a brief apology to the hostess before taking the wine. She swirled the mouthful or so of the crimson Cabernet in her glass, held it to her nose, and only then tilted it to her lips. “It’s lovely, thank you.”

“I’ll take it from here,” said Tyson kindly, dismissing their hostess and filling both their glasses. They toasted each other wordlessly. It was a fine vintage: dry but with fathomless depth. The flavor was so earthy it verged of petrichor: heavy with smoke, tannins, and stone fruit. Tyson knew Aideen would get ten times the sensation if his philistine pallet was picking up these flavors. They sat for a moment, drinking in the ambiance as much as the wine.

“I thought this room was only for private events,” Aideen said conversationally.

“Normally. But last year their newsletter talked about doing VIP services. I made a note to check for when reservations would first open up. Thought you might enjoy coming here when you're not on the clock,” said Tyson. The conversation was halted by their waiter, but the Herdier’s walk through of the menu was politely cut short. Tyson and Aideen both knew what they were ordering before by the time they walked through the door.

“I do love it here,” sighed Aideen. “But whenever I meet a client here it’s never my idea. I try to politely steer them somewhere else but it never works.”

“What, don’t like to mix work and play?” Tyson asked.

Aideen shrugged. “Sort of. I can’t order what I like if I’m with clients. Do you know how agonizing it is to see the ribeye on the menu and order a damn salad?”

Tyson was dumbfounded. “Aideen, who in the world is stopping you?”

“It’s not a who, Ty, it’s just… tearing into a rare steak isn’t exactly ladylike,” sighed Aideen. She fished in a still-steaming bread basket for her beloved pumpernickel roll. She bit into it without stopping for butter.

“They'd need to be blind to look at you and claim that you're unladylike,” Tyson cupped her cheek across the table. She sighed and leaned against his palm. Tyson let her end the contact and dropped his hand to her wrist. It was still adorned by the sleeve of her overcoat. “And speaking of, why don’t you relax and stay a while?”

The Ninetales flashed a mischievous smile that Tyson had seen so many times elsewhere. “Well I’m not exactly up to dress code here.” Aideen undid the top buttons of her coat and parted the thick wool.

A very particular shade of green hit Tyson with the force of a flash bang. Not that he needed to see. He knew intimately how the camisole hugged her bust, how the bottom hem would dance over a midriff she’d diligently kept toned, how the skirt rode playfully high thanks to all her tails spilling out from beneath. A pair of proper tits really brings out the best in the dress. Elan wears it well, but it rides low in the— He derailed that train of thought before it could run any further away from him. A cold knot twisted in his stomach and he distracted himself by forcing down a sip of wine.

“Do I still have it, Dearest?" Aideen's sensual lilt tempted Tyson back to the now.

“Don’t even have to ask.” Tyson tried to growl back but it was more of a gasp. “Wasn’t expecting to see that so early tonight.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Never.” Tyson gazed into Aideen’s eyes, trying to center himself in their fey glimmer.

“No need to be respectful. The show is all for you.” Aideen basked in Tyson’s attentions.

“I'll need to consider every inch of such a masterpiece,” said Tyson. He made a show of his roving eyes. Aideen tugged at the coat, allowing her neck fluff to spill over her cleavage. Tyson let out a soft, involuntary \ **rrrRuff!* * Their appetizer arrived on cue. Of course…

Tyson sheepishly thanked their server without making eye contact. Aideen, however, boldly finished her wine and ordered her ribeye with a wink. Tyson meekly requested the salmon. He liked it mostly for the pilaf and he'd never figured out how to remake it at home. Maybe I should ask O— no, FOCUS!

“Don’t tell me you’re getting performance anxiety,” giggled Aideen. She held one of their bacon-wrapped dates temptingly beneath Tyson’s nose. He snapped it up, using his tongue to separate it from the toothpick before he swallowed. It was, like everything here, reliably delicious. The salt of the bacon paired wonderfully with the sweet of dates and the goat cheese.

“Never knew you were so keen for an audience in the first place.” The pick stuck from between his fangs when he smiled back at her.

“You’re getting old if you can’t keep up with me,” teased Aideen.

“Don’t you worry, I’m right behind you. You zig, I zag.”

Aideen giggled and poured herself another glass of wine. The silence was close and comfortable in the candles that still glowed blue from Tyson’s fire. A tail coiled playfully around Tyson’s leg to rub at the fluff on his ankles. “I could get used to this, you know.”

“That can be arranged,” growled Tyson.

“Can be arranged?" Aideen’s eyes glinted shrewdly over her wine glass. "So all this is just serendipity, then?"

Tyson blinked, nonplussed. “That’s a good thing, right?” His ears flattened against his head. What a stupid thing to say to her.

“A few years ago you never would’ve taken a night shift just to snag a reservation,” said Aideen. “You would’ve a steak on the grill and maybe a grocery store bottle of wine. Second from the top shelf for the occasion. And then we'd kiss and say we had a good time and pass out before we properly got our clothes off. And don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a cozy night in with you, but this? Did you think I wouldn’t notice when this stuff never used to happen?”

Tyson felt Aideen's eyes boring into him. He tried to lose himself in her brilliant gaze, but he couldn't ignore the curiosity that smouldered beneath the surface. Just how long had she been waiting to ask this question? You know exactly how long, Mutt. One year, four months, and twenty four days. Give or take a couple hours. The silence between them pulled Tyson back to their booth. “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to dote on you and keep it a secret at the same time, Lovely. Why would I need to be covert, anyway?”

“You’re dodging the question, Dearest.”

Tyson swallowed. Dammit, not “the closer” voice. “I guess I’m looking for the words. I started doing more things for you and it made you happy. So, I just, you know, kept doing things. More like we used to.”

“So, all this was a whim, then,” said Aideen. There were no barbs or accusations, but that only made Tyson more nervous.

“No, it’s just how it started. I’m trying to work backwards a little, love. Have you ever done something because it felt right but couldn’t articulate why until after the fact?” said Tyson, hesitantly. Aideen raised an eyebrow but gestured for Tyson to continue with a swirl of her wine. The conversation was treading murky waters but stalling would only make things worse. “You’re right, it was last year that I started putting more work in for you. There was something about Elan reaching senior year that made me think about the after, you know?”

“The after? What, are we dying now?” They shared a chuckle.

“You know what I mean. The clock was counting down and we’d be empty nesters. And I felt the need to… re-prioritize things, I guess? Maybe that’s not the right word, but I can’t think of a better one.” The last part tumbled out of Tyson’s muzzle and he fought to stop himself from wincing. I sound like I’m at confessional for the crime of loving my wife. He pressed on and hoped that would draw attention away from the sudden pause. “I’d spent the last eighteen years where being a dad was the most central part of my life, you know? And it was both our lives. Elan first, then our jobs and… I’m just rambling, aren’t I?”

“You don’t regret that, do you?” Aideen murmured. Was that doubt in her voice?

Tyson’s reply was interrupted by the arrival of their dinner. Aideen was distracted by the scent of salt, sear, and butter. She gave her steak an appraising eye and elected to let it rest a moment longer. She motioned for Tyson to begin eating while she waited for the perfect moment to cut in, but Tyson's forkful of fish and rice hovered pointlessly above his plate. He put it down and reached across to put his hand over Aideen’s wrist. All this time and he could never get over how silken her fur felt in his paws.

“No, love. I don’t regret it at all. But I thought that if Elan got to start a new chapter in his life, so should we. And maybe if he was going off to college and learning to be his own person he wouldn’t have to be the number one priority anymore? At least in our day to day lives.”

“Things didn't exactly work out as planned, did they?” said Aideen.

“I suppose not,” sighed Tyson. “But you can’t say we haven’t been there for him even if I’m trying to put you first now.”

“You right, and you have been,” said Aideen, finally cutting into her meal. She savored the first bite as if searching for some minutia that differentiated this meal from one that she'd experienced hundreds of times before. There was nothing she relished quite like perfection. “And I do appreciate everything you’re doing. You’ll laugh at me but this last year or so feels... nostalgic. Like when we first got together. I’m glad I’ve not forgotten how thrilling you can be.”

“You talk like it’s a big ordeal, but honestly, stuff like this is easy,” said Tyson, gently. “Loving you makes it all effortless.”

Aideen plucked a flower from the vase at the table and thrust it at Tyson. “Say that again, but with the rose between your teeth, you scoundrel.”

Tyson snorted and chose to instead dig into his salmon. It was rich and buttery, with a tang of spice and citrus to give it depth. “So, do I still have it, Lovely?”

“You don’t even have to ask,” purred Aideen. They were consumed by their meals for a brief time. Aideen ordered another bottle of wine. Tyson was finally beginning to feel the tightness in his chest unwind when Aideen flashed him a look over her glass. “Speaking of Elan…”

Tyson flinched as he bit into his fork. Arceus, let’s not. He swallowed and forced out a tentative “What about him?”

“What do you think he’s doing today?” Aideen had a sparkle in her eye that Tyson couldn’t identify.

“I’d assume he’s got some plans, between the three of them and all,” shrugged Tyson. He was conscious of his timbre as he spoke. If he steered them away too urgently she might suspect... This night is for her, not him. It _ has _ to be.

“Yeah, but, that’s the thing isn’t it,” said Aideen as she gestured with her fork. “How do they decide who goes out on the big day and who gets to stay home twiddling their thumbs?”

“Maybe they all go together,” shrugged Tyson. “They are all dating each other, after all.”

“You’re telling me you don’t know? I thought they told you everything,” teased Aideen.

Tyson's stomach clenched dreadfully. Was there more than simple curiosity behind Aideen's batting eyelashes? “They really don’t. I know pretty much everything you do ever since that first dinner where you met Owyn.” The knot tightened into a garrote. Now he was downright lying. And he could never lie to her.

“I’m only teasing you, Dearest, don’t take it so seriously,” said Aideen. “But how do you think that whole thing works if you’re not all seeing each other? Surely someone’s bound to get special treatment?”

“I feel like Elan would give you better answers on this stuff than me,” said Tyson, praying he came off as merely stupid instead of evasive.

“Yes but if I ask him I’ll look ignorant,” said Aideen, losing her playful tone. “What if I say something that’s super rude to a, um, a polyamorous person?”

“What, are you afraid he’ll tease you?” said Tyson, grasping at straws now for ways to make this conversation less enticing to pursue. “Never thought I’d see you afraid of the Kiddo before.”

“Oh, stop it, you,” smiled Aideen. They paused for a moment to dig into their meals, but the brief detente only made Tyson’s trepidation worse. “You were around them when they were preparing to tell me, Tyson. Did you see when it stopped being a hookup and started being a relationship?”

Tyson flattened his ears against his head. Arceus, she doesn’t know when to quit. He made a show of chewing the last of his salmon. The shift in topic made it taste like dust in his mouth. “I think he got along better with Cal first. I took Elan to one of his doctor’s appointments once. Elan spent the whole time in the waiting room texting Calill. She was sending him pictures of her date with Owyn. But I don’t think Elan started seeing Owyn as a boyfriend until close to Thanksgiving. When I guessed they were more than friends I did give him a bit of the ‘hardass dad’ routine. You know, to make sure he was on the level.”

“I can only imagine that went about as well as when I tried it,” snickered Aideen, eyebrows raised. “Frankly I just never saw Elan as the sharing type. Elan and Calill were two peas in a pod long before they started dating. I just sort of expected them to be a matched set, at least before, you know, everything.”

“I don’t think it bothers Elan. He once told me that he’d love Calill even—” Tyson cut himself off but it was too late. Aideen was on tenterhooks now. The Arcanine made a point of finishing the last of his asparagus, brain scrabbling for a way to cover his slip up. Nothing he could invent in the brief window of time felt believable. Besides, I’ve lied to her too much already. “He once told me he’d love Calill even if they didn’t have any sex. I think he’s just, you know, very relaxed about the whole topic.”

Aideen snorted into her mashed potato. “Pull the other one, Ty.”

“That’s what he said,” shrugged Tyson.

“Come on, this is the boy who hooks up with strangers at the gym and moves in with his girlfriend with one bed. If he didn’t do most of his thinking with his small head I wouldn't have gotten him maternity clothes for Christmas,” said Aideen. She finished her wine with a swig and poured herself another glass. “Seriously, Ty, how did you get him to tell you that?”

Tyson flushed, wishing Aideen was a little quieter. “It was when I asked him if it bothered him that Calill saw other people.”

“And you believed him?” said Aideen, incredulous.

“I think he’d have to be pretty relaxed about it. After all, the walls in their place are pretty thin,” Tyson said unthinkingly. He had to fight his instinct to flinch. I’m getting careless! But Aideen just giggled and sipped at her wine. Tyson swore he saw her wink over the rim of her glass.

“They really have no shame,” said Aideen. “Can you imagine if we got overheard back in the day?”

“I think they just lost track of time,” said Tyson hurriedly. “We could hear them when I brought Elan home from that doctor appointment, is all. It’s not like they were, uh, you know…”

“Just doing it on the couch when you got home,” smirked Aideen. A creme-colored paw slipped from her heels and rested on the booth seat across from her. Her toe claws threatened to snag on Tyson’s slacks.

“It’s, uh, certainly not beyond them,” said Tyson, struggling to steady his breathing when Aideen pressed against his sheath. He sipped his water stoically but his tail began thumping against the dark wood of the booth. He’d been saving himself for a week in anticipation of this dinner and cock had been on a hair trigger after day three. He hadn’t even done anything with Elan, save for some hand jobs that brought everyone to the edge. Aideen's paw nudged insistently. The next words escaped him while the blood rushed away from his brain. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if they -ruff- like an audience.”

“And what about you, hmmm?” purred Aideen. “Should I pull this tablecloth out of the way?”

Tyson leaned forward till he loomed over the table. “This is your night, Lovely. It’s alllll up to you.” He was inches from Aideen, but he let her complete the kiss. He cupped her cheek, dwarfing her in his paws.

Aideen growled a bit too loud to be polite. Her nails dug into the white tufts on Tyson’s wrists.. “So… right on the table then?”

“I wouldn’t say no, but it sure would be a shame to get you banned from your favorite place,” hummed Tyson.

“If only people weren’t so uptight about things,” tittered Aideen. “Maybe we should ask management to take a leaf out of Elan’s bo—?”

Tyson’s snout practically enveloped Aideen’s and she reciprocated with a fervent disregard for propriety. His tail thumped staccato against the wood booth. The 'Arc felt a spot of pre expand with every flex of her paw. His sheath throbbed each time their tongues met inside Aideen's muzzle. When they broke off the kiss both their breath caught in their chest. “You are driving me wild, Lovely."

“But I’m just getting started,” cooed Aideen. She blew a kiss to Tyson that glinted gold. The flickering flame curled around itself into a heart shape and burst with a click of her fingers. The cinders mingled among the candles that still burned steadfastly blue. For a brilliant moment their booth was bathed in the same green as her dress. Tyson gaped, but Aideen just laughed and tugged him close to her by yanking a fistful of his mane. “You’re adorable when you’re dumbstruck.”

“You can knock me senseless any time,” Tyson managed to growl out before Aideen made further banter impossible. Aideen’s tails were as rapacious as her lips. They constricted around Tyson’s legs and waist tight enough leave creases in his pants. His tip pushed from his sheath only to be met by her grinding paw. The hand that was cupping Tyson’s cheek slipped underneath the table and the Arc's nostrils recognized the cloying sweetness. No doubt their booth neighbors were wondering what dish on the menu smelled of peaches and ginger...

Blue flame licked the corners of both their muzzles. They came apart with a gasp. Tyson raised her hand, dwarfed by both of his, to his lips as if to place a gentlemanly kiss upon it. A string of liquid quivered between fingers so slick they caught the light of the candles. Aideen smiled devilishly and pressed them against his nose, dragging down his muzzle and pushing into his mouth. She was a conflagration of warmth, sweet, and subtle spice. A drop of wine that splotched her wrist when she'd laughed mingled with her natural scent, accentuating its slightly earthy musk. Tyson closed his eyes to experience his wife all the stronger...

Something in Tyson’s peripheral vision caught his attention. The blaze of the moment sputtered into a feeble fizzle in the bottom of his gut: their Herdier waiter stood stock-still, dessert menu in hand. His face was pointedly blank, the height of professionalism. Or maybe he was just hiding his smirk behind those bushy whiskers. “We’ll pass on dessert, but you can take this,” said Tyson, sheepishly handing him his credit card.

Aideen beamed, unflappable. As their waiter left she stage-whispered to Tyson, “Did you notice? His tail was wagging.” She surreptitiously slipped the rest of their second bottle of wine inside her coat.

“Any idea how long he was standing there?” grumbled Tyson.

“Not long enough,” huffed Aideen as she kneaded her paw into Tyson’s bulge again. Tyson let out a puppy-like whimper, too enthralled to be mortified. He reciprocated by cupping one of Aideen’s breasts, squeezing her in time with pressure on his sheath. He lost himself for a moment in her softness and the rising heat of their desires. When he remembered where he was he noticed their bill placed neatly at the very end of their table.

He and Aideen practically catapulted themselves from their seats the moment he signed the check. They left the restaurant arm in arm. Aideen had a few tails curled possessively around Tyson’s waist. She could have arranged them in a way that would have artfully concealed the damp spots that darkened the bulge in his slacks. The hostess who’d sat them hours before gave them a suspicious glance but Aideen just winked back at her.

The car door barely closed before Aideen had her hands on Tyson again. They saw each other in profile, lit only in profile by the red glow of the restaurant sign. She wrenched his collar, exposing the full length of the ‘Arc’s mane. A finger lingered over the tapered fluff that marked the transition from mane to treasure trail. Tyson groped so aggressively in turn that at the hem of her camisole so that that garment hung limply under her exposed breasts. “Coul- HUFF -couldn’t wait- PANT -wait for dessert, huh?” Each word escaped their kisses as a hiss of steam.

“Stop flirting and get to work, Mutt,” Aideen snarled.

“Yes, Ma’am!” Tyson leaned over the center console and plunged his hands beneath her skirt. He fumbled blindly for her spade, claws catching on the black lace of her panties. The surrounding fur was already damp and her scent overwhelmed them in the confines of the car. His fingers slipped between the ridges of her spade to rub the clit within. Aideen shuddered and a ripple pushed against his palm.

“G-good boy,” Aideen's praise caught in her throat. She practically tore the zipper off Tyson’s pants. Her fingers pressed around the plush fur of his sheath. Every squeeze made Tyson curl over the steering column, balls tucking up against his taint. His cock throbbed so hard it left a splotch on his shirt. He was close but he willed himself to last. Just a bit longer... just a bit longer...

“What are we, teens on our first date? Or are you gonna let me take you home so I can do things properly,” growled Tyson, two knuckles deep inside her now.

“Shut up and drive,” retorted Aideen.

Tyson regretfully took his hand out of his wife’s panties, but he made a show of dragging his tongue over his slicked fingers. “As sweet as honey, Lovely.”

He tore out of the parking lot with reckless disregard for the icy roads. Aideen’s hands stroked relentlessly. She'd slung herself across the armrest to reach even though she easily could've used her tails. Her nails dug into the fluff of Tyson's crotch for stability when Tyson weaved between the sporadic cars still out so late in the evening. Strong arms trembled in an effort to keep the wheel straight, shoulders lurching in time with his panting. She dragged a claw ever so delicately up the length of the shaft; the way she knew always left him in tatters.

Tyson prayed for red lights, missed turn arrows, or lonely stop signs: any excuse to return to Aideen's depths. The black leather wrap on the steering wheel was left smeared by something Tyson prayed would not stain. Tyson suddenly swerved right instead of left at the fourth stoplight. He pulled into an open line of street parking, heedless of the lines, and turned in his seat to face his wife. “Backseat. This can’t wait.”

Aideen's eyes glinted feral under an orange streetlight. Tyson gave her ass a playful grope as she crawled over the armrest. He didn’t fancy trying to squeeze his way between the seats himself, so he unbuckled and re-entered through the passenger door. The cold air magnified the throbs coursing down the erection bouncing between his legs. His modesty was preserved by a flash of white steam, though he conjured no fire.

Tyson found himself on all fours, wedged between the captain seats of the middle row. His bushy tail overflowed onto the driver’s armrest. Aideen splayed before him on the back row. Her dress and coat were distinctly rumpled and she'd tugged her camisole low to let her breasts hang free. She'd forgone a bra tonight. Tyson yanked her underwear away and burrowed his nose beneath that bright green skirt.

Tyson's thirst was unquenchable. The planning, the anticipation, the patience that lead to this evening culminated in a craving that drove his tongue back into Aideen over and over. His world was nothing but darkness and green fabric occasionally lit sky blue when he gasped for air. Fingers curled into Tyson's mane with force that threatened to tear it out by the root. Aideen yowled, wracked by spasms mashed her cookie into Tyson's nose. Tyson grabbed her ass and forced his face deeper into her muff with a feral snarl.

Tyson’s tonguework reduced Aideen to a tangle sprawled over the bench seat. Her limbs could only quiver but her tails never stopped. They constricted his knees and elbows, locking him in place between her thighs. The orange fur of a tailtip danced a trail of gold along Tyson's erection. The flame tingled on his flesh, same as his lips after a kiss. A throb coursed through his length strong enough to interrupt his ministrations. His cock twitched against his abs and he curled forward, fingers digging into the meat of her rump. She was so close he could taste it.

The Arcanine’s tongue plunged into his wife in a final push. He was rewarded with a violent jolt of Aideen’s hips. Her thighs clamped down on his face, but even the plush of her thighs couldn’t muffle the wild moans that echoed throughout the confines of the car. Tyson was perfectly positioned to savor every drop of her climax. He lapped with all the eagerness of a pet spoiled by licking plates clean and he kept going until long after his wife stopped quivering. He pulled regretfully away, strands of her nectar clinging to damp whiskers.

“Good boy,” groaned Aideen. She scritched playfully behind Tyson’s ears. She reached behind her with a tail and pulled out the half-finished bottle of wine she’d pilfered from their dinner table. “You want some?”

Tyson pulled out from beneath the skirt and rested his head on her lap. He gazed lovingly up at his lovely vixen, blue eyes glistening. “I’m good, I just had a drink,” he said, licking his chops.

Aideen took a hearty swig before re-corking the bottle. “Help me with these seats, will you? I don’t think I’m done with you.”

“All these years and we finally found a good reason for you to be driving an eight-seater around,” said Tyson.

“You’re talking a lot of sass for a man who should be knot deep in my pussy by now,” snapped Aideen.

“Yes ma’am.” They fumbled with the various levers and mechanisms that flattened the bench seat into the trunk. There was a brief interruption where they had to fling the canvas grocery bags into one of the middle seats. With a little effort they managed to lie side by side in only moderate discomfort. Tyson pressed Aideen’s back against his abs, keenly aware of his cock twitching between her thighs. “I’m glad we got the tinted windows.”

Aideen ground her rump against Tyson just to make him groan. “I’m not, think of the show we could put on!”

“You’re becoming a menace in your old age, you know that?” Tyson nipped playfully at his wife’s neck.

“Don’t act like you don’t love it. Now be a good dog and breed me!” Aideen’s tail wrapped tightly around Tyson until they were irrevocably entwined.

Tyson let out a soft rrrrruff and ground his hips. His knot was already at full size and his balls ached after a week with no release. With much jostling and bumping against the car’s interior, he pressed his shaft against the flat of Aideen’s spade. It was still wet from his maw and delightfully warm. They inhaled together when his tip breached her vulva. Tyson ravenously embraced Aideen, desperate to be further entwined with his wife.

There were no delusions of slow and gentle, not while they were cramped in the backseat and bumping their knees against the backs of the captain seats. The confined space was overwhelmed by the stink of sweat and needy pussy. The musk was fuel for Tyson as he put his meticulously-honed musculature to work. Their backs bowed and flexed against each other, their breathing in sync. Their gasps, moans, and staccato plap plap plaps pushed against their ears loud enough that Tyson knew anyone walking by would hear.

“DO IT! BREED ME! FILL ME!” Aideen tried to use the voice but was reduced to belting out her desire. With a final grunt the 'Arc pushed his knot fully into her silken depths. He bit down on Aideen’s shoulder as she jolted against him. Every throb tightened the embrace of her walls. When he pressed a hand to her abdomen he could feel the heat and weight of his load filling her in time with their waves of ecstasy.

“THAT’S RIGHT, TAKE MY PUPS,” growled Tyson, his words thick and muffled from his bite. The sparks flew past their lips that were a conflagration in the gloom. They were left moaning and quivering, blinking spots out of their eyes while they struggled to catch their breath.

“It’s not going down, is it,” said Aideen after who knows how many minutes of hazy afterglow.

“Not if you - GASP - keep clenching like that, Lovely,” shuddered Tyson. But he swore he saw a glimmer of fang from Aideen. He tucked a finger under her muzzle and tilted it towards his for a long kiss. He still tasted her on his own tongue, and that sweetness mingled with the tannins heavy on Aideen’s breath. “You know, now I could use that drink.”

One of Aideen’s tails fished around in the car, eventually finding the wine bottle that had rolled under the seat. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Dearest.”

Tyson toasted his wife before drinking right from the bottle. “Happy Valentine’s, Lovely.”