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Cuckolded by Her Mother

Chapter Twenty

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by Fyrdrgon

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"Scott..."

Fyr gulped and took a step back, holding up her paws even as the stoat advanced. Something was different about him, however, his expression darker with a little bit of a smirk tugging at his lips that she had never before seen on his muzzle. Truly, she would have said that it would have been more appropriate on the lips of her husband rather than the stoat who was dominating more and more of her waking thoughts, slipping into the forefront of her mind as she sucked her husband's cock, the smoothly uncut shaft driving up crudely into the back of her maw. But he couldn't be as rough with her as he was with Sasha and the dragoness that he loved was swiftly forgotten in lieu of far more tantalising fruit.

And that was where Scott came into her fantasies, Fyr whimpering with her paws between her legs, bringing herself to climax after climax while the demons had their way with one another. They didn't care anymore what she did while they were fucking - not unless they had some particular manner of humiliation planned for her, that was. If she got off, what did it matter to them? So the dragoness knelt, fingers thrusting crudely into her cunt as her fluids soaked and dripped down her inner thighs more than they ever had before without the addition of a thick load of heavy cum.

Thus, the stoat advanced, eyes glittering as he pushed his shoulder blades back, chest rising as if he was trying to draw her eyes down to the thick lines of muscle there. She reeled. He was bare-chested? Why was he bare-chested? But she couldn't drag her eyes away regardless as he proudly displayed himself for her, his thick tail swinging back and forth, the stoat confidently advancing up the steps to her fully built ranch house.

Fyr shuddered, tucking her thick tail in close to her backside as she took a step back - or, at least, she felt like she did. She didn't actually move at all, the stoat's jeans cast low over his hips as if his body was trying to shed itself of its clothes even as he moved. Fyr's brow furrowed. Why wasn't he even wearing any shoes? How funny!

But she couldn't think about that as the stoat's arms encircled her and she was frozen in the constraints of her body as he kissed her neck, her muzzle, her lips and laid her sweetly back on the bench swing she'd built herself for the front porch for the little one when they, finally, hatched. It shouldn't have been so easy for him to disrobe her but the dragoness found herself naked from head to toe in the blink of an eye, nipples perking lustfully in the cool air of the morning, the sun still low in the sky. It was a flattering kind of light though that cast over her and the dragoness caught her breath as his lips moved down between her breasts, teasing across her sensitive scales with a feather-light touch that would linger in her memory for far, far longer than would have been proper for a married dragon. And yet nothing she was doing at that point in time was proper for a married dragoness who should have known when to stop things before they escalated too far.

Way too far.

"I can't do this..."

"Then why are you, ma'am?"

How cute that he still called her that after everything that had happened! Surely they should have been more familiar with him having seen Sasha as a fully-fledged demon and all but he still had that patient charm about him, despite everything. And maybe that was just what made him so special to her, the stoat that made her heart pound in such a different way to the husband that cuckolded her on a daily basis - multiple times - as he was all sweetness and light and...

...pushing into her. The dragoness moaned and arched her back, clinging to him as the bench swung, threatening to tip the two of them off entirely. His cock drove into her, as smooth and as thick as she'd imagined in her wildest fantasies, filling her as she had so very desperately needed a cock to fill her. And the penetration was not without an edge of pain too, the dragoness tensing and crying out softly as she rolled her hips up into the first thrust of many. She couldn't help tightening up again - as much as other femfurs said that it simply wasn't possible to tighten up like she felt she had - when she was not honoured enough to have the penetration her husband should have been delivering to her, but it made the experience of being stretched all the sweeter for welcoming Scott in.

Perhaps she should have done that a long time ago.

"You're beautiful," he breathed, kissing her nose as he rolled his hips gently, making love to her rather than simply fucking the dragoness, although she would not have said that she would have minded that either. "You deserve better. So much better."

Maybe she did. Maybe Scott was right. She deserved so much more than what she had, as tantalisingly wicked as her life was. It was not that she did not love being cuckolded in the realm of her own household, the secret little thrill it gave her to go deeper and deeper into that manner of submission, intoxicating in its own right... But to be fucked and lusted after was another thing entirely and, well, Scott was more than willing to deliver that to her in thick, heady doses that made her head spin in that so very special way.

The stoat's eyes burned and he crushed his lips to hers, passionately kissing her as their tongues entwined, Fyr's legs wrapped up around his hips. Never once had she said no, rocking her body up into each and every one of his thrusts as he filled her as she had so desperately needed to be filled. Each stroke of that lovely cock, so different to her husband's and certainly miles apart from the faux cocks she had crammed into her on multiple occasions, made her blood sing, smoke curling wickedly from her nostrils as she broke the kiss with a gasp, eyes wide and wild with unbridled passion.

"Fyr!"

But that cry did not come from Scott and, suddenly, the stoat was pulling back and away, his face sucking into a swirling darkness that ripped the world about her from its seams. And then she was awake, sitting up with a gasp and tipping off the camp bed that had been set up in the spare bedroom of the ranch (as yet unfinished) to land in a heap of limbs and blanket on the floor. She scrabbled to come back to herself, chest heaving and fighting with the blankets, her world dark and grey until she finally untangled it from her horns and burst into the bright sunshine of what she hoped would remain her room.

The grey walls, as yet unpainted, welcomed her, along with a smirking, blue muzzle that was quite striking in a far different way to how Scott's looked. The memory of the stoat and the warmth that he'd brought to her chest fizzled away like droplets of dew in the morning sun, although the lust dampening her panties remained in acute testament.

Grinning, Sasha leaned over her daughter, clad in a heavy metal band shirt, yet again, that had multiple, deliberate tears through the charcoal-coloured fabric. Whether the rips were caused by a blade in the designer's workshop or placed there with less calculation by Ropes' claws was a question, however, that would have to remain unanswered.

"Are you having a good dream there, sugar?"

Fyr gaped at her, opening and closing her mouth several times before coming back to her senses, although the words she wanted so desperately simply wouldn't leap to her lips as she desperately needed them to.

"Um, well..."

Yeah. That was eloquent. Really nailed it there.

Fyr rolled her eyes at herself and stood up, groaning as she got to her hind paws and put her paws in the small of her back, working out the kinks from a night spent sleeping on a less than comfortable bed. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to reassign herself to the sofa once again, even it was a far side less private...

"What are you doing up so early?" Fyr asked instead, giving her mother a wary look. "I thought you were still supposed to be resting?"

Waving her paw dismissively, Sasha folded her wings in close to her back, right away on the defensive.

"That doctor doesn't know how tough demons are. And it's your fault anyway that I caught you cold!"

Sighing and rolling her eyes, Fyr deigned to dignify that one with an answer. The dragoness had heard that comment over and over again since Sasha had come down with something a little unexplainable, although the dragoness had seemed to get over it. It was true that the doctors at their local practice didn't understand how to tend to demons as the normal vaccinations that they would give for various maladies simply had no effect. Conversely, demons had proven themselves immune to many things even while their systems reacted strangely to undulating nuances rising through the fabric of being from the underworld - the place where the majority of demons in existence called their own.

But that was about all that she'd gotten out of Ropes before he'd sent her away to please Sasha, even if it was a damn side more than she had known and understood previously. It kept her mind occupied at other times too and was a welcome distraction as she followed Sasha down the uncarpeted stairs, the dragoness babbling on about something or the other. Truthfully, Fyr couldn't bring herself to care, even though it should have been a welcome distraction from the lingering warmth in the pit of her belly.

Scott was far too tempting a thought to work his way to the forefront once again, that wicked smirk of the dream-stoat replaced by a dazzling, heart-wrenching smile. She shivered. The feel of his paws on her in the dream had been so vivid, so very vivid... She didn't know if she wanted it to be real or not but the dream had been whatever it had been and there was nothing she could do to change that one bit.

Breakfast seemed a massive task, especially with Sasha rattling on. It was a surprise that Fyr had not yet had her muzzle forced between her mother's legs but she wasn't about to complain when she was otherwise left well enough alone with the peace of her own thoughts for company. Sasha didn't need a reply to enjoy the sound of her own voice, her daughter nodding every so often just to appease her, although there was only so far that Fyr could get with her toast - Sasha had turned down breakfast, just like Ropes, every day since she had become a full demon - before her mother demanded something a little more from her.

"Come on, Fyr," Sasha said, poking her in the small of her back. "There's no time to dally about, sugar. You need to get going! There's a lot to do here!"

Fyr started, looking her up and down. The house that she'd designed and done the interior work on (still a work in progress) rose around them, the groceries she'd bought sitting on the counter, and Sasha had the illicit audacity to say that she needed to be getting on with even more work? She pressed her lips tightly together into a thin, hard line, anger curdling in the pit of her stomach. Hadn't she earned anything of a break?

"Are you trying to hustle me on to get this place finished?" She growled, eyes flashing in a fit of daring. "I'm working as fast as I can!"

Sasha clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and, as if in a motherly swing, cuffed her daughter lightly on the side of her head with her wing, bending her ear-frill. She didn't take Fyr's anger one bit seriously and drew her in close, slinging an arm around her shoulders as if everything was as fine and dandy as it had been so very many years ago in her youth.

"Silly, Fyr," she cooed. "We're all working hard here! I'll need to be getting on with this too! I've got my old guitar shipping down and the studio will need setting up!"

Fyr snorted and rubbed the back of her paw across her eyes. Oh, the studio... She'd forgotten all about that. Although she had to say that it sounded like Sasha was planning to actually do the work for herself for once, which would have made a nice change if not for the problems she was facing with her immune system being all out of whack and all that. It was the very purpose of all the doctor's visits she was being ferried back and forth too and, truly, the reason that her workplace had barred her from remote work for the time being, a fact that Sasha was terribly upset about, even if it would have been part-time. Fyr still hadn't quite worked out why, as yet, she wanted to resume her old job but, if the dragoness was looking to contribute to the household, she wasn't about to lodge any complaints there.

Yet it did mean that the dragoness was well enough supposed to be resting and not hauling tail all around the ranch in the name of fixing bits up to her liking (Sasha was rather scatterbrained with what she turned her attention to, it had to be said).

"Yeah, but you can't work when you're supposed to be resting," Fyr groaned, finally speaking her thoughts aloud. "As much as I appreciate it, mom, it's really Ropes that I need to help."

Something shifted in Sasha at that moment, a shadow seeming to cross the dragoness' sharply emerald green eyes.

"Okay," she said, quietly and levelly. "I will speak to him."

Fyr blinked. Just what the hell had happened there? Everything moved so quickly in the house sometimes... Had she missed something? Gulping, Fyr shook her head, trying to keep her cool as she nodded shortly, just the once.

"That's great. Thank you."

"Just don't forget what I'm doing for you here, daughter."

To Sasha's retreating back, the door closing on her heels, Fyr levelled her gaze and gave a deep sigh. There was always a caveat. Hopefully, this one would not come with too many negatives as opposed to the delightful positives some - like kneeling at their feet while they fucked over her head - had.

Her trepidation, however, seemed to come to no fruition at all as the day progressed, a duly sleepy Fyr - well, she had been rather 'active' during the course of her dreams - got on with the work in preparing the ranch house. She still hadn't quit her job, wanting to get all set up and ready to go first of all, but that meant that there was an awful lot more work to get down on the weekends and during any free evenings. She was, in a way, lucky that Sasha and Ropes were more interested in one another than her as it, at least, gave her relative peace to get on with the work that needed to be done, even if it was rather lonesome.

The construction crew, of course, had long since left and Scott had left along with them. Fyr could not have pretended that she was not sad to see Scott go but she had to say too that it was a relief to have the object of such lewd, seedy attention out of sight even if not quite out of mind. It had opened the door to further fantasies, allowing her to dream of what might have been if only she'd been another dragoness in another time and another life entirely. It didn't matter that nothing had happened between them (she chose not to dwell on that one kiss too much), only that she could enjoy the fantasies and get herself off to the thought of the naked stoat night after night after night. Who did it harm?

And he was a nice thought to have in her mind too as she pursed her lips and hung Sasha's favourite painting in the master bedroom. It was a strange painting to see going up in line with Sasha's re-emerging, younger tastes as it was an old watercolour that had seen better days. The frame was a little battered and Fyr made a mental note to pick up a replacement in the city next time she was in; at least there she wouldn't have to hang around for a custom frame to be made up for her and could just walk off with any size she pleased off the shelf. The watercolour depicted a landscape but not just any landscape: the holiday home that her grandparents had had in her younger days. Those grandparents and the holiday home in the mountains were but a distant memory but it must have held some kind of sentimental value for Sasha to want it put up in the master bedroom.

But she'd stood there looking at it for long enough and Fyr shook herself, moving on to touching up the paint around the light fittings and plug sockets, wanting everything in the master bedroom to be perfect. The bed had a reinforced steel frame that she had begged them not to break too soon, although she had no doubt whatsoever in her mind that it would be an easy task for a demon on a mission, the fire of lust flaring up hot and proud in their hearts. It would do the job, however, at least for a little while and she'd been rather proud with the bargain she'd managed to strike in getting it made, even though the springs were not as well reinforced, perhaps needing to be replaced sooner than she would have liked either way.

Yet the bedroom was just where all of them seemed to spend the majority of their time and, truly, it made sense to have everything just as she liked it right off the bat. It wasn't so much her tastes that were being accounted for but, honestly, Fyr wasn't so much of a picky soul as long as she had a nice photo of her family up somewhere, just to remind her of what was truly important in her life. For, regardless of everything that happened, her family would always be there and she had even closer ties to them than ever.

And so the picture went up in prime position on the bedside table, on the side where Fyr would have slept if not for the drastic change in her personal life and circumstances. It still made her smile though to see her mother with both her and Ropes with not an ounce of sexuality to colour the frame. It looked...right, somehow, and that was all it had to be without any sense of digging into it.

Groaning, she stretched her arms out above her head, dropping first one hip and then the other as she shifted her weight from side to side, working out the kinks of a day of bustling and working, although it was only early afternoon. Maybe, as she'd thought that morning, the camp bed was rather getting the better of her, but she strove to not let it prey on her mind as she tidied the bed and cleaned up the room, finished at last. There were much bigger jobs left to do - painting and decorating the spare room, her room, to say the least - but it was nice to have one finished all by her own doing, a lightness in her heart seeming to lift her up from where she may have otherwise slumped.

"What a nice picture..."

Fyr gasped but had not a single heartbeat in which to react as a tentacle snaked around her throat. Her heart leapt, pounding viciously, but there was nothing to hold her balance as Ropes skilfully flipped her onto the bed, eyes glowing all the while. He did not smile and did not even smirk, which was, in a way, even more disconcerting than his usual expression, the predatory gleam radiating from his eyes as if he was actively trying to project it. The cougar licked his lips as he advanced, tentacles stiff and raised on the attack, tail flicking lazily from one side to the other and back again, a calculated, repetitive motion. Fyr trembled. There would never be any mistaking a cougar on the prowl.

"Ropes..."

"Quiet."

Shuddering, Fyr did as she was bid, chest rising and falling rapidly within the confines of her pale pink T-shirt. It wasn't one she usually wore and, after her work of the day, it had become splattered in off-white splotches from touching up the paintwork and doing what she needed to do. She wasn't all that confident either that she smelled all that fresh, wishing belatedly that she'd been a bit quicker to jump in the shower, although that room too was a terrible sight, even if it was functional. Fyr frowned. If she could just get to it, she was sure...

But Ropes wasn't about to let her get to anything that wasn't right there in the room with him. The cougar grinned and she was hardly surprised to see that he was naked, her eyes hungrily raking his form as he stirred up that need in her as he always did. Sure, her husband was no fantasy but he brought fantasy into the realm of reality each and every day of her life - and wasn't that what she'd wanted all along?

Giving a tiny moan, Fyr dug her claws lightly into the bedspread, conscious not to rip it just yet, as his cock hardened, the uncut length holding firm in a thick spire of meat that she ached to suckle between her lips. And all it took was a crook of the cougar's finger before she was dropping to her knees, completely and utterly spellbound, and taking him into her muzzle as if it had not been a day since last time. If she'd been completely honest with herself, however, she could not actually remember how long it had been since she'd last had the dubious yet exultant pleasure of sucking him off, let alone having him fuck her until she couldn't even think of walking, so shaky would her legs me.

As if she was back in the dream - admittedly with the stoat rather than her cougar husband - Fyr moaned as Ropes tore off her clothes, systematically shredded them with just the very tips of his claws. It was so methodical how he went through her attire that it was almost as if he was deliberately trying to be careful with her, although Fyr wasn't all that convinced that it was not something more. Her heartbeat fluttered, a juddering, inconsistent beat that had her squirming beneath him, tail thumping over the edge of the bed, but he easily pinned her down with her arms trapped above her head at even the mere thought that she may wriggle away from him.

Fyr's head spun. No, she wasn't going anywhere. And, as she drowned adoringly in his arms, the cougar kissing her as passionately as he had back when they'd been newlyweds, she could have imagined that she was back in the early days of their marriage. She could have imagined that they were making love for the very first time all over again - although that had been rather rougher than most consensual first times, all in keeping with the nature of their relationship - and she could have imagined that everything was right and rosy with the world.

Yet...she did not. It was not that she could not think back that far but that her present was so much better than her past as she blissfully allowed her husband to dominate her, the cougar barely giving her a cursory lick between the thighs before moving over her submissively prone body to mount her as a husband took his wife. The cougar knew when his wife was ready for him and, really, her dripping pussy gave it away completely, although he could not have known just why she was so aroused. Truth was that he didn't care all that much either but that worked out well for both of them as Ropes, finally, slammed into his wife with the raw abandon that perhaps both of them had craved for so very long.

No one could have said who cried out first as Fyr's head fell back, a long, heady moan mingling with Ropes' yowl, the cougar working up swiftly to a frantic pace as her pussy twitched and gripped around him. She needed little to no preparation to take him and clung to him tightly as he slammed into her, each grinding thrust of his hips thrusting her to another wave and height of pleasure. She could not have said just how quickly she climaxed but her world was abruptly spinning as she moaned and clutched at her husband as if he was the last solid thing in her universe, claws biting and cutting as she lost all sense of herself. Even Ropes juddered back a little, surprised, before leaning in all the harder, hips working like a piston as his tentacles roamed her body, groping and squeezing her breasts as if they owned them, lewdly caressing wherever they touched. Through the throes of climax, Fyr hissed and twisted, overly sensitive and, still, longing for more.

The cougar's tentacles played with her nipples, her husband fucking her harder than he ever had before, each driving slam of his hips rocking the bed furiously back against the wall. He humped and pounded, driving in as he snarled, lips curling back from his teeth like the feral beast he truly was. And Fyr saw him then as he truly was, fur matted and ruffled, eyes a blazing white: a true demon of lust. The snarl that was on his lips was true to his self and the cougar shook as if with raw fury and desire, grinding and thrusting as if everything depended on one, last fuck.

But it wasn't as if he was ever going to be short of partners to fuck - oh no. The cougar kissed her fiercely, biting her lip - whether that was an accident or deliberate, Fyr would never know - until he drew a spot of blood, the metallic taste flooding her mouth. A tentacle brushed back over her face, almost tenderly, but there was nothing tender or gentle about the drive of his cock, his thick length filling her completely with each and every stroke.

"You seem to be having fun here..."

Sasha leaned against the doorframe, a smirk on her lips and smoke curling languidly from her nostrils as she watched the scene unfold before her, her lover fucking his wife as if he had forgotten about her. Yet it was not as if the cougar was some pet kitty-cat, willing to come and purr to call, and he barely acknowledged his demoness, though a flick of his tail did tell her that he had noted her presence at the very least.

Fyr whimpered as her husband pounding her, feeling everything and yet seeming to drift within herself above the scene. She saw her mother moving in as if in slow motion but she could not move, could not stop her, as she leaned in so very close, her lips parted and the scent of sweet smoke washing over her.

Sasha winked.

"Kiss me, sugar."

It may have had an endearment at the tail end of it but it was no request: Sasha only spoke to her daughter in the law of commands now. Obediently, the red dragoness parted her lips and kissed her mother as she wanted to be kissed - submissively. Sasha led the way, only looking for that note of submission within her daughter as she took charge of the kiss, thrusting her tongue crudely into Fyr's mouth even as she howled through another orgasm, her whole body twitching as pleasure wracked her, completely and utterly. Fyr could only whine and whimper into her mother's muzzle, that tongue exploring every last bit of her mouth as it so rudely pushed her own tongue out of the way, as Ropes snarled like a true demon, lust rising - and then spilling over.

He climaxed as if in slow-motion, the cougar slamming in repeatedly as her pussy clenched and rippled around him in one long, ongoing orgasm that seemingly had no end. There was no way that she could possibly keep every last bit of his cum inside her and, frankly, it was not up to her in her pinned state to consider anything at all like that, the dragoness but a warm hole into which he could dump his seed while waiting for a far more active, willing partner to join him. After all, he could only fuck his wife so hard and the fact that Sasha was right there ready and waiting for him was all the motivation he needed to get off and get off hard too.

But, when he pulled out, still hard and smirking as he gestured to his dripping cock, Sasha turned away and scoffed at him, taking Fyr by the back of the neck and shoving her to the floor. The dragoness didn't even have the breath left in her to yelp as she hit the floor hard, impact ringing through her body a moment after the incident had actually happened.

"I hardly want your sloppy seconds," Sasha growled, eyes half-lidded with lust. "Suck him off! Clean his cock before I sully myself with it."

Fyr didn't need to be told twice and she moaned wantonly as she took her husband's cock into her maw, tongue hanging out over the front of her mouth as she lapped and suckled like she was a whore - truly a whore. For, of course, she was a submissive, but couldn't she be more than that? Spiralling deeper into submission turned her world into something darker and more sultry, something that she could not quite put her finger on and yet wanted to stay in forevermore.

The dragoness above her moaned and Fyr glanced up, nearly making herself go cross-eyed with the action, Sasha leaning back as all four of Ropes' tentacles slipped into the slits in her belly, the puckers of scales and flesh seeming to heave with every breath.

"Oh, yes, honey," she breathed, trembling under his touch. "That's right. You make me feel good now."

Maybe she did not yet know that she could not truly command her lover but Ropes was amenable enough, growling as he rocked his hips and thrust his tentacles in time, making love to both of them at once. Well, no one could be quite sure what he was doing to Sasha but every thrust brought a raw thrum of pleasure to her, a shudder rippling through her scales, so one could only assume that it was something special for demons. At least the slits had not caused her any physical problems and, truly, they closed up of their own accord when not in use, leaving only a red line behind to denote their exact location.

Harder and harder, Ropes licked his lips with a raspy tongue as he ground into his lover, his gaze on her even as Fyr lapped his cock clean of any drop of semen she found there. Of course, there was the problem that his cock kept drooling pre-cum as if from a tap and so she sealed her lips around the head, blissfully drinking straight from the tip, cum shining along her lips as if gloss.

But Sasha wasn't going to stand for Ropes paying Fyr so much attention when he was getting her so good and worked up, tentacles slamming in with so much force that Sasha gripped the metal footboard of the bed to keep herself in place, teeth clenched and wings flared. But it was a good kind of clenched and pleasure that rolled through her as she hastily threw Fyr aside, not caring for her daughter's comfort as the dragoness became little more than a rag doll, tossed away when they were bored of her in lieu of a far sweeter treat.

Ropes wasn't about to pin Sasha to the bed when he already had her on her knees and Sasha readily took his tentacles pounding her holes in lieu of his cock, slurping and suckling on his length as he drove her to greater heights of fervour. The dragoness was but a machine - a sex machine - of lust as she swallowed his cock whole into the back of his throat, muzzle working like that of a skilled seductress as she wrapped her tongue around his uncut cock and moaned. Letting the vibrations travel down the length of his cock, she would have smirked if she'd been able, at just how the cougar juddered, so close to losing control again, and drove his tentacles wantonly, slippery with some kind of lubrication that only they could produce, into her all the harder.

Fyr could only watch, on her knees and spellbound, as Ropes' orgasm built and built, although she had little sense of any actual passage of time. All she knew was Sasha's muzzle moving in a blue blur, anchoring herself in place as Ropes filled her mouth, cream spurting and the rampant thrusting of his cock-like tentacles hurling her over the edge in a fresh and new way. The dragoness howled around his cock but could not pull back for fear of losing the sharp grind of pleasure coursing through her, sending tremors to her ragged wings and her mind spiralling while her daughter was left behind.

And then Fyr heard the car outside. Not just any car either - oh no, that would have been far too nondescript. It was a particular one that backfired and sputtered and sounded like it was well and truly on its last legs that she'd rolled her eyes at each and every time it had turned up at the ranch with the construction crew. The rest of them had hitched a ride with him because it was the roomiest, but she wasn't so sure sitting in the back-back of a pick-up truck was really something to be counted as roomy for carrying passengers.

Her heart pounded. What was he doing there? Of course, the others noticed her distraction or, at least, the only one that cared about her distraction in the sense that it took a little more attention from her.

"You're not into this anymore, sugar?"

Sasha purred and sucked Ropes' cum off her fingers, shivering as she leaned into the caress of his tentacles. Gulping, Fyr shook her head, knowing that was the wrong thing to do and yet unable to help herself as her mind wrestled with one concept over the other.

"Oh, no..." She muttered, eyes downcast. "No... No, that's wrong, it's not that... I don't feel..."

But worry flooded her, turning her words to mush as she tried to push them from her lips, certain that the worst was coming. To her surprise, however, Sasha only laughed and shook her head in turn, flicking her tail in that little dismissive fashion she seemed to have picked up lately. Annoyance stirred in the pit of Fyr's belly and the dragoness clenched her jaw, eyes flicking to the window.

"What are you so worried about, daughter?" Sasha purred, lapping up cream from the head of Ropes' cock, his semen clinging to the edges of her mouth. "You are more distracted than normal... Isn't she distracted, darling?"

Ropes nodded, though the demon was, of course, less concerned with just what was wrong with his wife than he was with keeping Sasha - or any femfur, for that matter - interested in his hard cock. A demon, after all, had his lusts to fill and feed and there was not much one could do to prevent that if he wanted to continue with due vitality and health. At least, that was what Fyr put it down to. She didn't always want to think that her husband was ruled by carnal desire for the sake of pleasure alone and, so, tended to make up her own kind of explanation for why he had to fuck and feed so frequently. She trembled. It was easy to get swept up in everything her husband was but she didn't want to delve into that right then. All she wanted was his cock in her, driving home as she cried out and climaxed on that lusty rod.

But what would they do if they found Scott outside? Fyr gulped and tried to push away the thought of her mother waving her tits at Scott more than her admittedly fragile mind could bear at that moment. She'd embarrass her! They knew something was up and, well, Sasha only needed an inkling of an idea to put something truly humiliating into action.

"If you are so distracted, daughter," Sasha said with a dismissive wave. "Perhaps you should leave. In fact, leave us to it. Dinner in an hour."

It was just the release she'd needed - after the sticky mess of the first still lingering wetly between her thighs, of course. Fyr nodded blindly and leapt to her feet, darting from the bedroom as if the hounds of hell were on her heels. And, knowing her husband and her mother, they very well could have been. Fyr shuddered. She didn't even want to know if hellhounds were actually a thing or not but wouldn't have put it past anyone to have them be so just to add fuel to her very worst of nightmares!

She grabbed a shirt off the bannisters as she hurled herself out onto the landing, cursing at the bare floorboards as a knock came on the door, shockingly loud. Clothes - more clothes! She couldn't let him see her naked with cum dripping out of her! Luckily, it was laundry day (or the laundry had not yet made it upstairs into the wardrobe) and she wriggled into a pair of panties that may have been Sasha's, topping it off with an old pair of jeans that were blessedly to hand. That would have to do. Fyr cursed at herself, lunging for the door. She had to get him away! Or else they would...

But all thoughts died as soon as she saw the stoat on the front porch that she'd built, his paw raised as if to knock for the second time. His fur appeared oiled and glistening as if he'd treated it before coming out but the gentle glint was gone from his eye, only to be replaced by a steely one that seemed entirely out of place in the landscape of his muzzle.

And, for a moment, all she could do was stare at him, her lower jaw ever so slightly slack. He was gorgeous - could he not see that in himself? The late afternoon sunshine with a hint of looming sunset glance off his fur and he locked eyes with her, the downward tilt of his muzzle impossible to miss. She should have greeted him, the words thick in her mouth and dying on her lips as she worked her jaw several times, trying and failing to say what she should have said.

There were too many 'shoulds' to be considered.

"What are you doing here?" She said instead of greeting him properly, heart beating so hard that each beat blurred into the next, a fervent stream of failed attempts to keep her body functioning normally. "Scott... You said you'd gone."

Twisting his paws together, the stoat stood up as tall as he could. Not being the largest of furs, it didn't make much difference at all.

"I had to see you, ma'am."

"You know you don't have to call me that anymore."

Scott chuckled softly and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Ah, well, it is my way, ma'am. I wouldn't want to be showing you no disrespect here... Though my coming here may be seen as a mite disrespectful to some."

The words seemed to give him strength and, before Fyr could react, he stepped forward, eyes intense. Taking her paws in his own, he held them up to her chest, her breath catching as if there was simply a blockage in her throat. Yet there was nothing, even though, as much as her chest shuddered, she could not take a full breath with the stoat staring at her so intently.

Like it had in the bedroom, her adrenaline rose, time seeming to move more slowly around them as the cries of the lustfully fucking demons filtered down from. Yet that no longer mattered as Scott gently took her into his arms and kissed her forehead in such a way that it was a wonder that she didn't melt right then and there.

Even with her husband's cum dripping from her pussy. Fyr flushed but did not pull away, leaning into the stoat. It felt right there...somehow. And yet that was still very, very wrong.

Could something so wrong...be right? Yet she didn't have the chance to answer the question for herself as he tipped her muzzle up to his, breath kissing her lips without his own actually touching hers.

It was almost better than a kiss.

"Fyr..."

Scott's eyes burned into hers and Fyr's heart turned over. Could it be? Had he come back...for her? But what... Oh, she dared not assume what she should not want!

Say it.

_ _

"I want you."

He said it.