FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

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… Week Twenty-Eight…

Elan leaned against the railing that led to an aged condo complex. The glass doors were polished clean but Elan avoided looking at them for fear his reflection. He didn't want to see how easily he'd become winded. Oh to be laid low by half a dozen little ridges of concrete.

“I gotchu Babygirl.” Calill laid her camera bag gingerly on the concrete wet with melting snow. She let Elan steady against her. Cal was tall enough that she could rest her muzzle between Elan’s ears if she stood on tiptoes, but when Elan leaned back against her she flinched. “Sorry, your shoulder blade hit my tits.”

“The pain means they’re growing,” said Elan, encouragingly. He craned his neck so that Calill could kiss him. The front door opened mid-smooch.

“Damn, I’m getting a toothache just lookin’ at you.” A Sawsbuck was framed by the door, hands on her wide-set hips. She had a wry, slightly world-weary drawl, but her well-worn laugh lines framed her smile. A crest of white winter fluff spilled over the bust of her dress, but the grass-type's antlers were adorned with pink flower buds that marked the coming spring. She indicated the oversized bag on the steps. “What, did you bring the whole studio with you?”

“Almost. I warned you she’d do this, Robyn,” giggled Elan. He tottered to one side, reaching to pick it up off the ground, but the Sawsbuck smacked his hand away.

“Don’t be a gentleman, foxboy! Didn’t your doctor tell you ‘no heavy lifting?’” Robyn wagged a finger at Elan and hoisted the heavy bag with a grunt. Elan’s ears wilted in the same way they did when Aideen snapped at him. Robyn had already called the elevator and beckoned them inside. The interior halls were clean but with decor that hadn’t been updated since at least the 80s. “You’re gettin big, huh? Is liberation day soon?”

“I’m at twenty eight weeks,” said Elan, struggling to navigate his bump into the cramped space while still leaving room for Calill.

“Triplets,” said Calill by way of explanation. She tried not to look too proud of herself.

“Wipe that smirk off your face unless you plan on pushing 'em out yourself,” scowled Robyn. She relented when Calill tucked her tail. “What, giving me puppydog eyes already? I thought foxboy was the bottom between you.”

“It’s because you’re taller than her,” giggled Elan. “You’ve activated her fawn or freeze instincts.”

“How am I the only one here who's not a prey animal?” cackled Robyn. The elevator dinged and the three shuffled awkwardly out, trying to avoid jostling the precious cargo. She held her front door open for Elan. Crossing the threshold felt like stepping into the fey.

The soft glow of fairy lights fell on walls painted spring green. Seemingly every flat surface had a potted plant on it. The sliding glass door that led to the balcony was a yawning abyss of stars interspersed by the steady red blinks of a distant wind farm. Elan imagined the room in daytime, awash with natural light. It was so... maximalist, but no less cozy for it.

“Studio space is in the big bedroom,” said Robyn. “I’ll help you set up once I change. It’s a little hard to let you in and be dressed for a shoot at the same time.”

“We got this,” said Calill with a wink. Her normal bravado was making a valiant rally. It was hard to keep her down for long when she was getting ready to get behind the camera.

The “studio” was a converted master bedroom. In was meticulously clean and adorned with no furniture other than a bed and loveseat. Robyn already had studio lighting installed and all rigged to a single panel of dimmers. The cable management was immaculate and discrete. It felt like it didn't belong to the same home as the living room they'd just left.

“Man, Robyn’s really a - pant - a pro at this,” said Elan. He went to reach for the camera bag that Robyn left on the couch but Calill waved him away.

“Get off your feet, hon. Honestly the way Robyn has things I barely gotta do anything,” soothed Calill. She unpacked her tripod, her laptop, her power bank, and hard drives and made a little workstation out of a portable TV tray. She also had her portable green screen and moved to set it up, but she didn’t deploy the canvas and kept it tucked in a corner out of frame.

"You think this'll be a good shoot?" Elan asked apprehensively.

"Nervous about doing it with a pro?" murmured Calill, just in case Robyn was nearby.

"A little," Elan played idly with the RGB color picker. The room plunged into moody bisexual lighting.

“Babygirl, I know you like your mood lighting but I’m double checking my lighting,” said Calil. “If we keep it like this we'll wash all the yellows out of my clothes. I wish Robyn told me what she was changing into…”

“You worry too much, hon,” said Elan. “You’ve got the skills to make a Feebas look good.”

“You can say that again.” Robyn rounded the corner, preceded by the clack of hooves. She had changed into a harness with white straps that rested between the valleys of her ample curves. It matched the pale spots on her back and the ample fluff on her chest and fetlocks. “If I didn’t know better I’d never have known you’ve only been doing this for a few months. Windows closed, no landmarks in your location shots, amazing compositing I’d never guess was green screen.”

“Yeah, geoguessers have gotten a little too good lately. Best to take precautions. There’s nothing in school policy saying that we can’t make porn in campus housing, but I’d rather not give them an excuse to find out,” said Elan. He glanced to Calill, expecting her to chime in at any oppertunity to talk shop, but she was transfixed by Robyn.

The Sawsbuck moved with a casual strut that effortlessly accentuated her wide-set hips. She carried a noticeable post-partum paunch, but it sat naturally on her frame. The white ruff on her chest accentuated a bust that was already imposing. Calill didn't even try to hide her stare. Robyn scoffed. “Next you’re gonna say ‘oh wow it’s even bigger in person’ and I say ‘You should’ve seen me before the estrogen.’”

“We’ve seen your size before,” Calill said eyes bobbing in time with Robyn’s lowhangers. She was rubbing a tube of something smelling faintly of alcohol into the folds of her sheath. The casual motion made them sway back and forth.

“Oh that ‘Arc stud you brought on for a special was forreal? I thought he was just wearing a strap,” said Robyn, impressed. “If your girlfriend wasn’t so smug I’d ask if he was the one who fucked the pups into you, foxboy.”

Elan giggled. “He’s certainly been trying. What’s the ointment for, by the way?”

Robyn glanced down and then proffered the ointment to Calill. “It’s T-gel. You want some, Calill? It helps me stay hard during a shoot.”

“I, uh, sure,” said Calill brightly. “Will it matter that I’m not on an anti-androgen?”

“Didn’t want to lose performance, huh? But no, it shouldn’t be a problem for you.” Robyn cocked her head with a smile. “How’s the E treating you, though?”

“I, uh, really like it,” said Calill, tail thumping against the bed. “I wish someone told me what emotions are supposed to feel like. I would have started this years ago.”

“We re-watched Ernest & Celestine recently and she was bawling like a puppy,” said Elan.

“Good! Someone had to teach me how important a good cry was when I first started. It’s like the sneeze that clears your sinuses after you’ve had allergies all week,” said Robyn, sagely. She strode across the room and with a smirk pushed two fingers smeared with the T-gel into Calill’s sheath. She rubbed the sticky solution into the warm flesh hidden inside. Calill let out a soft moan and groped blindly in return.

Elan giggled from the couch. It wasn't every day he got to see Cal turn to putty in another dominant's hands. He'd never seen her fool around with other women, either. Maybe if he had he would’ve picked up signs earlier. Or maybe not. It was probably for the best she told me on her terms. Either way, he couldn't argue with her smile.

Calill and Robyn were doing quite a job of riling each other up. The firedog growls were muffled as she kissed between full breasts. Her fingers sunk deep into doe thighs, tugging so that Elan could see her pink tailhole winking beneath her stubby tailfluff. The Sawsbuck copped a feel for herself, but the grope was gentle so as to not aggravate the sensitive buds of Calill’s breasts.

“Fuck, the E was real good to you,” huffed Calill, her voice muffled from between Robyn’s cleavage.

“Give it time, pup,” said Robyn, maternally.

“Honestly, I’d give up my tits to have hips like yours,” said Calill, struggling to sound complimentary rather than envious.

“I wouldn’t recommend getting them the way Elan or I did,” said Robyn. Calill and Elan cocked their heads but Robyn gave the Ninetales a knowing wink. “I discovered my vestigial womb by accident. I'd only been on HRT a few months before my girlfriend at the time gave me a fawn. Have you been tested since you started estrogen, by the way? I have condoms if we need ‘em and I’m on birth control.”

“No, uh, I’ll be ok. I had Elan’s OB-GYN do the tests and, uh, it turns out I don’t have one,” said Calill, dropping her gaze.

“Then you’ll just have to get them the old fashioned way,” said Robyn.

“And what’s that?” asked Cal.

“Squats and bottoming.”

“Guess that is easier than baby weight,” said Calill. She bit her lip but seemed to rally herself for a second so that her smile returned. “Besides, I have Babygirl here if Elan and I ever decide we need more pups.”

“Love you, Mutt.” Elan blew a kiss from the loveseat. Calill caught it and mimed gnawing on it like a bone.

“Love you too.”

“You know, I might have something for you,” Robyn said thoughtfully. She moved Calill's portable green screen to access the door behind it. It opened into a walk-in closet, its assorted cubbies and hangers adorned not with clothes but toys, harnesses, and restraints. One shelf prominently displayed silicon domes of various size. They were almost like breastforms, but larger and adorned with stainless steel fastenings. "So, Calill, how far along are you?"

“I, uh, ooooh!” Calill’s eyes lit up in comprehension. She pointed towards a medium-sized mold. “Maybe… middle of the 2nd trimester? Just enough of a ‘bwump’ to compliment my outfit.”

Robyn held the chosen mold up, comparing its size to Cal's favorite pentagram top and miniskirt. She nodded in approval and snatched a black harness off an adjoining rack. “Hold up your arms for me, pup. This should blend right in with your outfit if we just shimmy the top and skirt over it. You brought your makeup with you like I told you, right foxboy?”

“Yeah,” said Elan, reaching for the satchel that he’d laid on the floor next to the couch. His makeup kit for himself and Calill was next to all the props he and Cal used to keep their faces concealed during shoots: the gold and green domino masks, the harem veils, the pup hoods. “So this is how you keep your preg account so active, huh?”

“Yup. I can’t be a surrogate all the time. Hope you don’t mind seeing how the sausage is made,” said Robyn. She had done a false womb of her own that hooked right onto the white harness she was wearing.

“Not at all,” said Calill, slightly short of breath as she moved experimentally with the false womb hanging around her middle. Her tail thwapped repeatedly against the closet door. “Damn, Babygirl this feels way heavier than it should. You’re a real trooper for putting up with this.”

“Give him more credit than that, Calill. He's carrying three times what you are,” smirked Robyn.

“Where'd you even get these? Or did you custom order these,” said Elan, curious.

“Oh, this is all medical supply surplus. Family planning organizations sometimes have them so dumbshit husbands can feel what their wives have to put up with on a daily basis,” said Robyn. She helped Elan sit up on the loveseat so that she and Calill could perch on the armrests on either side of him. “I’ve seen the magic you do, foxboy, get those brushes of yours to work.”

“You’re gonna owe me soooooooooo much foundation,” cackled Elan, brush poised to strike

“Don’t you worry, by the time we’re done you’ll be able to buy out a whole-ass makeup department,” said Robyn with infectious bravado.

“Honestly we owe you big time for boosting us when we were small,” said Calill. “I feel like we skipped the grind of building a following thanks to you.”

“Your work speaks for itself, but you’re welcome,” said Robyn, self satisfied. “It’s important that we all look out for each other. No one else looks out for sex workers.”

“Sometimes I see the numbers we do and feel like it’s stolen valor,” said Elan self-consciously. He began painting over the belly prosthetics as he talked. All that surface area made it a bit of a process, but blending the makeup to mimic Cal and Robyn's natural pelt color was surprisingly straightforward. “At first we were trying to make a little money to pay for doctor’s bills but now that I’ve got a surrogacy contract our TailTipz has just been, like, a horny hobby for me and Cal and Owyn.”

“Which Arcanine is Owyn? Is it the well-hung shiny or the DILF with washboard abs?” bantered Robyn. “You’re dating all of them?”

Elan smeared the patch of tummy he had been working on at the mention of his dad. He disguised the jolt as a kick by letting out a little squeak. He sighed dejectedly when he saw how much progress was undone by the sliip. The hardest part was keeping the lines between outer fur and underbelly clean. Robyn also had that golden stripe that separated outer dark brown from the wintry white, and the prosthetic she was wearing only covered it partially. “Oh, uh, Owyn’s the chubby one.”

“The other guy is just a fuckbuddy of his. We don’t really know him too well,” said Calill helpfully. “But Softie has good taste and it seemed like fun to invite him on for a couple pictures.”

“Well, tell Owyn to send his number my way, you looked like you were having a blast with him,” winked Robyn.

Elan poked Robyn’s prosthetic with one finger to distract her from the topic. “I thought you’d go for a bigger size than that for the shoot.”

“Can’t go stealing the spotlight from you,” teased Robyn. She massaged the apex of Elan’s womb, right where the fur was at its thinnest. The ‘Nines keening whimper spurred Robyn's fingers till he was a squirming tangle on the sofa.

“You found his weak spot,” said Calill. She pressed her hand on top of Robyn’s, their fingers interlaced as they sent shocks coursing through the firefox’s body. Their hands hands were punted away by a particularly vigorous kick.

“So energetic. Those are healthy kits right there. You and Cal are gonna be great Mommas,” purred Robyn. Cal and Elan beamed with her praise.

“I can’t wait to give them to Milo and Felicity. It’s sweet how excited they get when I send them updates,” said Elan, applying another layer of makeup with short quick strokes. He examined his work and applied a smidge more, layering the foundation to simulate the grain of Robyn’s fur pattern.

“Wait, you don’t mean… you’re talking about a Furret and Noivern, right,” said Robyn with dawning recognition. “Milo offered to do a shoot with me last month but I was out of town. I didn’t know they were looking for a surrogate.”

“I don’t think they started posting pics again until after they agreed to adopt from me,” said Elan. “I can’t imagine having a TailTipz account would help their case with adoption agencies.”

“Got a point there,” nodded Robyn. “Who knows, maybe triplets won’t be enough for them?”

“Arceus, can you imagine?” giggled Calill. “Sorry for jumping your claim, though.”

“I was in school when I had my first, too. It's for the best you found a home for your happy little accidents,” said Robyn sympathetically. “We both got a little lucky that way, you know? You deserve to be out of school for a few years and a proper chance to figure out what you’re gonna do with yourselves. Then you can start pushing out kits again.”

“Man, it’s gonna be hard to go years on end without putting another litter in you,” giggled Calill. She planted a kiss on the top of Elan’s head.

“Love you too, Cal,” said Elan. A sudden well of feeling bubbled up inside him, sending tails swishing over the cushions. Behind Calill's flirting was an iron-bound conviction: an affirmation that they'd still be together on the other side of this year and the next and the next... He forgot where he was, tempted to indulge the fantasy of him and Calill actually trying for a baby, as a couple! I'd probably need to get a period tracker when I go off birth control... Cal would take my by the wrists, lay me gently on my back and– Elan’s daydreams were interrupted by a sharp kick, a real one with time. Color rose in his cheeks. He must've spent the last minute just zoned out doing nothing.

“Still with us, foxboy?” said Robyn with a wry smile.

“Oh, uh… yeah.” Elan felt the color rise under his cream-colored fur at the knowing look in the cervine’s eye. He made a fuss of inspecting his “canvas,” but he was mostly done. Justa touch of blush to the crown of Calill’s belly to imply the fur was starting to thin. “We’re all set, actually! I think we’re ready to start actually shooting now.”

“Damn, Foxboy, you’re good. It takes me twice as long by myself,” said Robyn as she inspected her own belly with a critical eye. The painted prosthetic looked seamless, giving her a subtle but unmistakable heaviness to her middle. “Half the time I get lazy and just ask my editor to shop over the prosthetic. Should I just put you on my payroll?”

“Just try not to smudge it,” said Elan, luminous with praise.

“Why don’t we start with some scenes with you and Robyn,” fidgeted Calill. Her eyes kept straying to the tripod, her girldick half out of its sheath. “I’ll jump in after I know everything is running smoothly.”

Robyn offered her shoulder and helped Elan make the trip to the bed. The last year of photoshoots had taught Elan they were much less fun than his horny fantasies: lots of jockeying for proper angles and ensuring his tails didn't get in the way of the goods. Even laying side by side with Robyn was an ordeal: they had to avoid smearing the makeup while Cal got shots of them making out or stroking each other's cocks. They groped and humped haltingly, waiting for Calill to call for a new angle or scene change. The bedspread was soon spotted with copious leakage, but they used cum lube for creampie and money shots to avoid waiting for on refractory periods. Robyn got the good stuff, at least. It had the viscosity of the real deal and even a bit of its scent, but it was flavored sweet and fruity. It reminded him of lavender lemonade.

Any lingering anxieties melted away by the third scene. Robyn was a good kisser, almost as good as Calill. She had so many soft parts to her, too. He wrapped them together in a cocoon of soft tails, keeping them apart just enough for Cal to get the shot. It worked as good on the Sawsbuck as it did on Owyn. Elan noticed that Robyn's body reacted to his natural warmth in a way his other partners didn't. She wasn't a fire-type after all. Her nuts sagged lower and lower in a tails embrace. Elan knew by feel alone they were as big as Owyn's.

And her cock! Arceus, her cock! Robyn was thick. Elan couldn't get his fingertips to meet around its circumference with just one hand. It throbbed as if it had a heartbeat, each twitch was so vigorous that it threatened to break out of the ‘Nines’ grip. Calill ordered him to nuzzle beneath the shaft to worship the Sawsbuck’s nuts. It lay heavy between his ears, mussing up his hair in a way that Cal assured was very bedraggled and sexy.

Elan’s favorite scene had him slung over the edge of the bed, back arched and womb pushed high into the air. His snout was deep in Calill's crotch while Robyn's antlers tickled the underside of his belly. The Nines actually wished she was less skilled at sucking dick: the quivers of pleasure made it hard to hold position for the camera. He coiled his tails around her handlebars in an effort to stabilize himself. Elan occasionally took his turn on the camera when Cal wasn't using the timer to join the fun. It was adorable to watch Calill and Robyn frot and grope at each other or listen to their horny banter about how big their litters would be between gasps and kisses. _No wonder Cal likes to watch so much… _

The hours flew by so that it barely felt like work. Calill was thorough as ever when it came to coverage: they’d done scenes on the couch, on the bed, in front of the green screen, in the shower. every angle, and in every type of lighting. Then of course came scenes with toys or costumes, solo and all together. Elan thought idly back to earlier in the day when she told Cal that a second hard drive would be excessive. He was gonna get a well-earned “told you so” for that later.

“And you really don’t mind doing the compositing on all the green screen?” asked Robyn as she finally began to pack away some of their props. “I don’t want you failing a class just so you can keep to the upload schedule.”

“Don’t worry about her, she’s a pro,” said Elan.

“Besides, we owe you one for all the followers you sent our way,” added Calill. She turned to break down her tripod but Robyn made a motion to stop her.

“Why don’t we leave the camera rolling! C’mon, let’s work on building up those child-bearing hips you want so much,” said Robyn, hefting her full erection with one hand. She had discarded her pregnancy prosthetic. Elan was captivated by the flared head opening and closing like a flower as a puddle of precum gathered on the floor. Calill’s hands rushed to her muzzle. Robyn smirked. “What is it, pup? Now you got stage fright?”

“I think Calill’s gonna need to practice before she’s ready for you, Robyn,” giggled Elan. “I’m the one who bottoms for Owyn, not her.”

“And you’re telling me you’ve been with your girl all this time and never knotted her pussy?” said Robyn, playfully skeptical.

Elan tapped two fingertips together. “Eh heh… even when I’m not pregnant my top game is, uh-”

“–Embarrassing,” finished Calill, but she cupped Elan’s face in her hands and kissed him sweetly. “It’s not his fault. Babygirl is just born to be a pillow princess.”

“How about lessons from a pro, then,” said Robyn. Elan shared a look with Calill. Their unrelieved erections throbbing between their legs made any further discussion moot. They nodded simultaneously. She smirked. “Be a good girl and lie on your back, pup! Do you need help getting out of the harness?”

Calill practically flung herself onto the bedspread. She pulled up knees and spread her legs without needing to be asked. She peered over the slope of her “womb” with heartmelting puppydog eyes. “Can I keep it?”

“Of course you can,” said Robyn. “Now, you ready for me, foxboy?”

Elan nodded He leaned against the bedpost and pushed his back out behind him. He felt gravity tug his heavy belly down toward the floor, but he spread his legs a little wider to brace against the weight. A shiver ran up the Ninetales’ body when Robyn's flare made first contact. It flexed and pulsed against his flesh. He babbled incoherently, his frontal lobe overridden by carnal desire and the past hours of edging. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck give me your cooooooooooock! I need your fat fucking girldick to fill me up with faaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwns!”

Robyn's hot breath made Elan’s neck fur stood on end. “Don’t lose your head already, foxboy. We’ve got a good girl to breed first.”

Elan barely had time to himself in before his breath was stolen away. Owyn was bigger than Robyn, but not by much. The flare breached his tailhole with the same force as the hyper ‘Arc’s knot. Unlike Owyn, Robyn’s flare didn’t have a shaft to ease him into the tie, and the abruptness of taking all that girth at once was all the more intense for it. The shaft itself was easier to take thanks to the flare's initial girth, its weight pressing hard as it slid against foxboi prostate. Elan put a hand to his belly to feel the mass of cock gathering inside him, pressure gathering below the weight of his womb.

Then the medial ring hit, his hole stretched as if he had taken the flare a second time. He yipped, out of breath, and fought against the instinct to jolt and squirm for fear of losing balance. But Robyn was gentle and took him in an embrace. She never pushed first, giving Elan all the time he needed to adjust or relax. He heard whispered affirmations in his ear, but his brain couldn’t parse actual words now. He could barely register his own lips mewling out “more, more, more, more, more, MORE!”

Elan's cheeks ground against Sawsbuck hips a blissful eternity later. He was hilted! Arceus he was so full of cock. Her flare blossomed against his inner walls, the warmth of her precum pooling against a damn of girldick. Her soft hips were wider than his, and their difference in height left Elan's face smushed between soft, fluffy breasts. Elan closed his eyes and sighed, but Robyn snapped her fingers, demanding attention.

“Don’t forget why we’re here. Now work with me, slut,” ordered Robyn. Elan, eager to please, let himself be guided by the doe in an absurd sort of half-waddle. It took a fair deal of maneuvering, but with the grass-type’s help Elan was guided into the awaiting embrace between Calill’s thighs. There was a mess of fumbling as Elan and Calill ground against each other, trying to guide him to her tailhole while also navigating the bulk of their bellies. By the time Elan’s tip pushed against Calill his tummy was smeared black and orange by the makeup he’d painted on at the beginning of the night.

“Tell us when you’re ready, good girl. We’ll take it one bit at a time,” Robyn's maternal purr sent a sympathetic shudder down Elan and Calill.

“Yes ma’am,” replied Elan and Calill in unison before breaking into giggles.

Calill breathed slow and deep, eyes closed. She held out her hands for Elan. An electric current of anticipation ran through their entwined fingers and She nodded her assent to Robyn.

“Nice and easy now,” huffed the Sawsbuck. She held Elan by the hips, shuffling and grinding the fox into Calill. Elan's belly tilted him forward, but Calill was so wiry and strong that the weight didn't phase her. His womb pressed against the soft silicone prosthetic, her cock throbbing between them. Precum smeared the mess of foundation and left streaks in Elan's cream-colored fur. He was deeper inside her now, tighter and warmer than any toy. She clenched around him with a familiar neediness: it was the same as when he'd take her, desire that left every inch of his body aching for his Houndoom.

“We’re hilted, girlie,” Elan's panted, trying to imitate his partner's timbre when the roles were reversed. Any semblance of suave was shattered by a barrage of kicks that sent ripples over the surface of Calill's prosthetic. She squeaked, running her hands over the messy surface as if to catch the palpatations.

“Good giiiiiirl,” purred Robyn. She patted Calill on the thigh, but the Houndoom was intent on resting a hand on Elan’s gravid middle. Calill's flames lit the room apple red as she warmed Elan's belly. They gave each other a moment to settle the kits and catch their breath. Elan, so enveloped by Robyn, noticed that the Sawsbuck's budding blossoms had a sweet scent of their own, mingling with her earthy, chlorophyll musk.

“Ready for your next lesson, foxboy?”

“Yeah,” said Elan, eager to please.

“You’re gonna match my pace, okay? Just focus on riding my cock like the good little slut you are and your body will do the rest.” Robyn's coaching was heavy, enticing, and sensual.

“It’ll be just like you’ve been bottoming this whole time,” assured Calill.

“C’mon, foxboy, let’s fuck some pups into your girl all slow and tender like,” growled the doe. Her hips pressed into Elan’s, threatening to tie him to Calill. Her hands guided his rump back, half a beat out of sync with hers so that slid over her shaft on the back stroke before she thrust them both forward again. Elan mewled, legs quivering, but he fought against the instinct to go limp and be used. He steadied himself in Calill’s eyes of smoldering coal, yearning not for his own pleasure, but hers.

Robyn's next thrust carried them forward in a bodily heave. Her hips guided Elan with little apparent effort. fox was just more baby weight to the doe. Elan struggled to orchestrate his body with Robyn's, to return to the state of grace and poise that he normally carried to the bedroom, but Calill’s little whimpers and yips kept him going. He'd never seen her face so scrunched up yet radiant with euphoria and nothing in all the world mattered more to him. He did a sort of wriggle against Robyn’s cock inside him, hoping that she understood the signal to speed up. The grip of her nails against the supple thigh proved she was quick on the uptake.

Robyn was hunched over Elan’s shoulder, breathing ragged and every muscle flexing as she aided Elan from being overencumbered by his pregnancy. The doe's guidance coaxed Elan to increase tempo, steady and tender and thick with a bliss that made time stop feeling real. The paunch of her stomach pressed softly into the small of his back every time she hilted him. Each collission pushed him back into Calill’s embrace. Elan went weak at the knees, but he leaned against the doe with one cheek on her breast to catch his breath. He moaned freely, his ululation of interjected by the Sawsbuck’s ragged breathing or his own yips when wracked by quickening

All the pleasure blazing through Elan couldn't hold a candle to Calill. Her mewls and barks caught in her chest, curling inward on herself till she mouthed silently. Her face was twisted in ecstasy, eyes screwed shut, tongue lolling, makeup smeared. Her cock struck the underside of Elan’s tummy like a kick drum, precum matting Elan's fur. Her needy knot throbbed hard against the base of his womb. Her wiry shins bumped clumsily against Elan and Robyn as she struggled to entwine them closer together.

“Tie me tie me tie me, Babygirl,” Calill begged as she made Elan beg so many times before.

“I want - PANT! - I need - GASP!! - give you kits,” panted Elan, practically spitting the words from his, thin, heaving chest

“_PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I NEED YOU BABY I NEEEEEEED YOOOU!!” _

Calill's pleading urged Elan to break Robyn's pace. He ground his knot into Calill, but between the shaft deep inside him and the weight of his womb he could not generate enough force to push his knot past her ring. Robyn huffed, flecks of spittle tickling Elan's neck, and surged forward. Her pelvis collided with his rump, and a moment later a lewd POP cut through the haze of grunts and moans. For the first time, Elan felt every inch of Cal around him. He collapssed in a heap over his doom, balls tugging up. He was filling her... being filled… filling her… being filled… He blinked without seeing. His nose was full of the stink of good sex, of wet grass, of Calill’s scent of earthy plum and pepper and estrogen. His belly laid heavier on his hips than before, gurgling rebelliously. He prodded it experimentally with a tail, surprised that he was surprised by Robyn filling him so full. What if her and Owyn at the same time... Oh, Arceus... A weak, tender moan demanded Elan’s attention. Slowly, he squinted his blue eyes into focus. Calill was pressed flat into the messy sheets, punch-drunk and short of breath.

“You good down there, Girlie?” panted Elan. He reached out to cup her cheek but struggled with just how much tummy was in the way. A thought snagged at Elan, a chill of worry pushing at the edge of his afterglow. “I’m not squashing you, am I?”

“Just a little,” cooed Calill. “But it’s kinda sexy.”

Any words Elan had for his girlfriend were cut short by a ragged moan. Robyn pulled out of him. The motion was an assault on Elan's prostate even when she was semi-soft. He collapsed onto his side, forcing Calill to roll with him while they were joined hip-to-hip. They lay there, smelly and messy and awkward. A fastener on Calill’s harness had come loose and the prosthetic womb lay awry, wedged between Cal’s abs and Elan’s tummy.

“I’m gonna clean up,” said Robyn warmly. “Should I make us something to eat or should I wait till you’ve had a chance to shower, too?”

“Give us a minute,” said Elan, dazedly.

“Can you get a shot of his hole before you go,” said Calill, playful but still a little punch drunk. “I bet you wrecked his cute little rear.”

They heard the click of the shutter before Robyn’s footsteps faded deeper into her condo. The two were left entwined, forced to stay together by Elan’s knot pulsing insistently inside Calill.

“Hooooooooly shit, what a niiiight,” moaned Calill. She weakly reached to caress Elan’s cheek.

“I never thought I’d have so much fun topping,” said Elan, still winded.

“You did good, even with a handicap,” teased Calill. She leaned forward to kiss at Elan’s belly, heedless of the makeup and cum smeared across its ample surface.

“We gotta fuck more girls together. You’re cute when you get to be a shameless lesbian,” said Elan.

“But babe, I get to be a shameless lesbian anytime I fuck you,” grinned Calill. They both devolved into woozy titters. “Can I ask you something weird?”

“Shoot,” said Elan, smiling back at her.

“Is it bad that I’m glad you got pregnant?” said Calill hesitantly. “Like, this is just our life now and we got here because you got knocked up and, well…” She trailed off and waved a hand vaguely in the air.

“Well, when you put it that way I’m kinda glad you got me pregnant, too,” said Elan. He and Cal shared a look and they squeezed each other’s hands. Even though they’d gotten used to the lie that Calill or Owyn had a chance at being the sire, the truth was heavy between them, albeit less so than it was months before. “I think we can keep doing stuff like this once it’s all over. If we want. Just with more condoms and birth control.”

“Yeah,” said Calill listlessly. She reached out and patted Elan’s tummy affectionately and giggled when the impact sent a ripple across its taught surface. She smiled at how Elan quivered under the touch. “You’re in the home stretch now, Babygirl. Just gotta get through these last few months and it’ll be like it never happened.”

“I can’t believe it,” said Elan dazedly. “It feels like a miracle that we managed to get this far without everything blowing up in our faces.”

“You should have more faith in yourself, hon,” murmured Calill. Her eyes were starting to flutter.

“Only because you were there with me this whole time,” said Elan. “I'd never have gotten anywhere without my sweet, perfect stud behind me.”

“Oh I’m definitely behind you,” growled Calill.

“I love you so much, Calill.”

“I love you too, Babygirl.”