The Mender
The sound of a vehicle slowly rumbling its way down the street made her heart flutter. Suzanne tugged on the side of the curtain, peeking outside as she watched the blue sedan pass by the house and continue on; no one she knew, and no one that she had to be concerned with. Letting the curtain fall back down and leave her in relative darkness, she breathed out a nervous little sigh.
Am I really ready for this?
The slender ferret reached up and ran a shaky paw against her forehead, sitting back in her seat again and trying to contain the little shudder that had formed in her breathing, using her other paw to grip at the arm of the chair and give it a little squeeze. A year ago, she would never even have thought of doing something like this, not even in her wildest dreams. Even just a month ago it only existed as a kind of afterthought, something that crossed her mind when the mood struck her just wrong.
As she fought to banish the little knot forming inside of her stomach, her eyes wandered past the photo that was sitting there on the little table next to the window. Without even thinking about it, she reached down and plucked the frame up in her slender, white-furred fingers, pulling it up close so she could see it in the light.
It was her wedding photo. Having almost pure white fur over her entire body, she had actually picked a wedding dress that was a gorgeous, pastel blue in color, a big, expensive flowing affair with a long train that ran out past the edge of the photo. The color was just right to bring out the sapphire blues of her husband, the tawny-furred rabbit who looked so handsome in a tuxedo standing next to her. Yet as she pondered that photo and the joy that day had brought her, a dark thought crossed her mind, and she furrowed her eyebrows angrily. He was the one who had brought her to this.
Just as that thought darkened her mind, she heard another engine making its way down the street. The angry emotions were briefly interrupted by anxiety as she peeked out into the street and watched a delivery truck rounding the nearby corner and beginning to head off in the other direction. It still was not who she was expecting.
Closing her eyes and leaning back in her chair, she shuddered with the force of nervous anxiety again, making her stomach knot up all over again. The anxiety was quickly giving way to doubt once again, as she began to wonder aloud. "I don't know if I can go through with it ..."
It had only been a week since she had finally made the decision, and she hadn't discussed it with anyone. Certainly not with her husband, and certainly not with any of her family, but so extreme and unthinkable was her decision that she had not even bothered, not even so much as considered sharing it with her best friend. Not a single soul in the world knew what she was up to.
No one except for him, that was.
She had found him online, of course; it wasn't the sort of thing that people just went around in public doing, let alone someone who had cultivated a reputation for being well behaved and mild mannered. It had been exactly a week before that she had worked up the courage to go to that website, where she had found and read his profile over and over again. She had spent the better part of the whole afternoon looking at his photo before she had finally sucked it up and fired him off the initial little message.
Even when he'd returned her email, she still wasn't sure that she was committed. She had almost deleted it, simply sent its way along into the trash can, but her husband had come home late yet again that evening, beholden to his job and unwilling to stand up for himself - stand up for her. As soon as she had the chance, she returned the email to make the arrangements to meet.
He'd offered to meet her somewhere more public, somewhere away from her home if it made her feel more safe, but she knew that would only complicate manners; it would only give her an opportunity to change her mind. No, she had seen enough from his pictures, read enough from his profile to know what she was getting in to.
Yet even now, as she nervously waited for the hour of that meeting to arrive, she was beginning to question her motives. A part of her reasoned that she could simply pick up the phone, call him, and call it off. She wasn't in so deep that she couldn't back out - was she?
The sound of an engine once again reached her ears. Nervously she glanced at the clock - it read exactly 5:30. Biting her lower lip and leaning forward to look out the window again, she almost stopped breathing when she saw the white, windowless panel van coming to a slow stop on the opposite side of the street. Immediately she could feel those butterflies in her stomach, working their way up into her chest, leaving her feeling short of breath.
Her quivering brown eyes stared out the little sliver of window that she had uncovered, watching the van intently as the engine idled for a few moments and then was cut off. Her eyes widened as she watched the door swing open and he stepped out - he looked exactly like the photos. At least to that point, he was entirely honest about his profile.
The rhino was just plain big. His profile had said that he was barely six foot tall but nearly two hundred and fifty pounds of raw muscle, and what she saw gave her no reason to doubt the veracity of that claim. He was wearing a pair of dark colored cargo shorts that did little to disguise what was hidden beneath them, and a muscle shirt that clung to his torso like a second skin. He pushed the door shut behind him and began to make his way across the street, moving with a confident, masculine swagger that was befitting a guy of his stature.
Suzanne's heart skipped a beat at the sight, and she withdrew from the window, letting the curtain fall shut. That was the way that her husband used to walk, with that confident stride, with a smile on his face that said he was ready to conquer the world. He was undoubtedly handsome - and to this day, he retained those natural good looks that had drawn her to him to begin with - but somewhere along the way he had lost his confidence, had lost the swagger in his step. He had once stood up to her cantankerous father and demanded her hand in marriage, but now found himself unable to stand up to work. He could not find the courage to put her first in his life, to make sure that she came before all else.
No, it was his fault that the rhino was striding confidently up the driveway and toward their door. She hadn't made the decision lightly, but she had needs that he simply was not meeting any longer. She had desires that could no longer go unanswered. No, she was not quite positive she was doing the right thing; but she was doing what she wanted.
She was doing this for her.
When she heard the firm rapping on the door, her heart nearly leaped up into her throat. It was really happening. Standing up out of her chair, she took one last look at her wedding photo. With a frown, she slammed it back onto the table. Face down.
~~~~~
Anthony sighed heavily as he turned the wheel and guided his car away from the hubbub of the freeway and into the suburban utopia that he called home. The sun had already gone down, leaving the horizon painted in deep indigos and violets. Under normal circumstances, it was the sort of thing that would look pretty if not downright gorgeous, but these were not normal circumstances.
Not normal circumstances for normal people, at least.
Sighing heavily again, the rabbit reached forward to turn the radio down, tired of listening to the incessant chatter of the talk-radio station. He really wanted to be a normal kind of guy, really wanted to have a normal schedule. His shift technically ended at four in the afternoon, but this afternoon had gone just like the day before, the week before, and even the month before. Barely half an hour before he was supposed to shut his computer down and head out the door, he would feel the heavy grip of his boss on his shoulder, the old greymuzzle hoss letting him know that there was still a lot of work to be done, and how glad he was that he could count on Anthony to make sure it got done. Even though the company couldn't spare the money to pay him overtime.
So routine had it become that Anthony didn't even bother phoning home to tell his wife that he would be late. At first he would, and the results were always the same. She would push him to stand up for himself, to let his boss know that he could not stay without being paid, that he had to go and spend time with his young wife. He would always argue that he couldn't afford to jeopardize his job. They had settled in to a pleasant little surburban lifestyle, a two-story home on a quiet street, a pair of new cars, all the amenities. Was it really the sort of thing that she wanted to risk?
Eventually she stopped arguing, and simply muttered a rather defeated "Dinner will be on the table" before hanging up. He would go home to a cold dinner, put the dishes away in the dishwasher and head to the bedroom where he would find her, a gorgeous white ferret who had unfortunately begun to wear a tired frown every night. She would give him a dutiful kiss on the cheek before lying down, looking up to him hopefully, but he simply didn't have the energy. He'd sigh, turn off the light, and fall to sleep.
He didn't think it was a normal, healthy way to run a relationship. He wanted to have the kind of relationship that they had when they got married, the kind that he saw in television ads, the kind he had always dreamed of growing up.
Instead, he couldn't find a way to stand up to his boss.
Rubbing his eyes tiredly again, he glanced down at the clock on the dashboard. It was already a quarter past six. He should have been home an hour and a half ago.
Slowly turning the car onto his street, he could not help but to breathe another quiet little sigh. It was a pleasant neighborhood, filled with well-groomed hedges, rows of clean and shiny sedans and SUV's parked in driveway after driveway. Earlier in the day he might go past any number of young families out in the front, playing catch, enjoying the sunshine, but now they would all be seated around their tables, enjoying a hot dinner as a family.
"If only," he muttered.
He was surprised to see a plain, white panel van parked in front of the neighbor's home, but did not pay much attention to the unfamiliar vehicle, instead piloting his own car into his driveway, parking next to his wife's crossover. He wondered what she might have cooked for dinner, what cold meal he would sit down to and pretend to enjoy all by himself. Anthony breathed another deep, heavy sigh as he cut the engine and stepped out of the car, making his way to the front door.
It was dark inside, but not so dark that he couldn't see. His keys were deposited on a little table that sat next to the door in the foyer, reaching up to loosen the tie that was strung around his neck. "I'm home," he called out, not expecting any kind of answer; he did not get one, and that fact did not bother him. Not anymore, at least.
His shoes were kicked off and nudged to the side, and he crossed the foyer in the direction of the kitchen with his stocking feet padding quietly against the natural hardwood floors. In the beginning, those floors were just one of the little minor details that he was so proud of, the kind of house that he had always dreamed of owning, but nowadays those details were simply lost. His house was simply the place he came to at night, the place he slept for a few hours before dragging himself off to work the next day.
Rounding the corner into the kitchen, he was surprised to find that there was no food out on the table at all. The entire kitchen was clean and spotless, no sign at all that any food had been cooked. Anthony's eyes widened a little at the unexpected sight, padding over to the refrigerator to pull it open and see if there were any leftovers wrapped up for him to throw in the microwave.
It was then that he heard a sound, distant and muffled, but enough to disturb the quiet, regular silence that filled the house. The rabbit's ears perked as he tried to make it out again, and it was repeated, an indistinct groan of sorts that was coming from upstairs and toward the back of the house. He was about to chalk it up to whatever television program that his wife might be watching in the bedroom when he heard it for a third time, a little more distinct. The sound was a voice, too resonant and natural to have come from a television speaker. More than that, though, the voice clearly belonged to a male.
More curious than anything else, Anthony shut the door of the refrigerator and made his way around the corner to the foot of the stairs before bounding up them quickly and evenly. For the moment the only sound he heard was the muffled thump of his own feet against the stairs, but as soon as he had arrived at the top and stopped to listen, he could hear it again.
The voice was clear to his ears now. It was a man's voice, low and strained, coming in at somewhat regular intervals; grunting and groaning, somewhat strained. At less regular intervals he could hear another voice, a quiet, feminine moan, almost imperceptible above the regular intonations of the male voice. Underlying it all was a quiet, rhythmic sound that he could not identify, at least not for a moment, and then it hit him all at once. It was the soft creaking sound of a bedframe straining.
All at once, it hit him like a pile of bricks. His eyes went up and looked in the direction of the master bedroom, his bedroom. The door was mostly closed, but a sliver of light still illuminated the door frame from where it was cracked open, enough to let out the regular, strained groaning of a man's voice, the plaintive little whines and whimpers of his wife mixed among the steady thump-thump-thump of a mattress bouncing up and down.
A part of him expected it. It had been weeks - probably months - that they had really made love, had any sex beyond a perfunctory coupling that was more out of a sense of marital duty than anything like love or passion. For months he had been coming home late, leaving her feeling ignored and forgotten. A part of him had long feared that she would simply lose patience and leave him for another man, would seek comfort in another's arms.
He had never, ever imagined it would happen in his own bed.
A mixture of fear, dread and anger welled up in his chest. Anthony balled his fists together and bounded down the hallway as quick as his legs would take him, stopping at the door and pausing. From here there could be no doubt what was going on beyond the door, the sounds were too obvious. It didn't merely sound like a pair in the midst of a rut; it was the deep, guttural sound of an impassioned fuck. Gritting his teeth, the rabbit pushed the door open.
What he saw in front of him made his jaw drop.
His wife was lying on the bed on her back, her head propped up on a pillow placed at the foot of the bed, facing the direction of the headboard, away from him. Her hips had been pulled up in the air, and her legs were wrapped around what could only be described as a bodybuilder of a rhinoceros. The big male, who looked to weigh twice as much as him in nothing short of pure muscle, was kneeling between his wife's legs, his powerful hands wrapped around her calves and holding them up in the air at a lewd angle. Anthony could easily see the rhino's thick endowment buried balls deep in his wife's cunt, stretching her a lot more than he could ever have hoped.
The pace of the fucking was intense. The rabbit could only watch, slack-jawed, while the big male pounded his wife again and again and again, forcing her dainty form back into the bed, making her gasp with the force of each impact. The big male had his eyes closed, his facial features screwed up into a look of intense concentration, beads of sweat already dripping off the side of his muzzle. The scent of musk in the room was powerful.
"Suzanne!" It was the only thing that the stunned rabbit could think to say.
If she heard him, she did not immediately respond. She appeared to be in the throes of abject ecstasy, one paw planted firmly on her mons as she flicked and pressed a fingertip against her clit, stimulating it in a hungry, needy fashion. His eyes bulged once again as he stared, as even from this distance the sight of that massive member spearing his wife was like something straight out of a porno - thick, veiny cockflesh sliding in and out, shiny with its coat of vaginal juices from the hyperstimulated femme.
Anthony gasped as he instinctively took a step back. The male was simply huge in every fashion, he looked like he could crush the ferret at any moment - looked like he was crushing her at that very moment.
Then he realized that the rhino had heard him, and was looking straight at him. Eyes the color of steel simply stared, bored holes in his skull, unmoving even as the big male continued with his rut, the bulging muscles of his body continuing almost in autopilot as he had his way with his wife. Just as Anthony was about to say something, the male sneered at him. It was almost like he was just daring the rabbit to confront him, as if he were saying "She's mine now, fucker. What are you going to do about it?"
The rabbit took another step back, stumbling. His knees felt weak as he looked to his wife. "Sue ... Suzanne ..."
Finally she spoke up, but she clearly wasn't addressing him. "Oh, fuck, Nik ... you're so big ... oh, fuck me harder ..." When she finished speaking, she leaned her head all the way back over the pillow and opened her eyes, focusing her gaze directly upon him. As they were forced up and down by the force of the male atop her, they held absolutely no remorse.
He couldn't handle it anymore. His knees continued to wobble, threatening to buckle, as he stepped backward and out of the room. The big rhino kept his eyes on him the entire time, even as the male leaned in and started lewdly brushing his tongue against his wife's tits. "You got it, babe ..."
Anthony finally turned and stumbled out of the room. Slamming the door shut behind him, he suddenly began to feel dizzy, and wound up spinning around with his back to the door. The sounds from the room behind him did not let up in the least, the incessant grinding of the mattress into the bedframe, the plaintive whimpering of his wife as she was speared, the lewd and eager grunting of the big rhino who had literally frightened him out of his own bedroom.
Still, it was the sight of her own eyes looking lazily back at him, uncaring, unmoving, that had bored the real hole in his heart. Leaning back against the door, he hugged his arms tightly around his own chest and closed his eyes, beginning to whimper. He hadn't been the best husband, that much he could not argue with, but had he deserved this?
The guttural sounds behind him only seemed to increase in pitch and fervor after he left the room, yet somehow he could not bring himself to run away. Where would he go? What would he do? His wife had betrayed him, and worse; she had done so deliberately. It was one thing to disavow an unfaithful spouse, but one who had gone so far overboard in doing so? He wasn't sure he could recover.
"Oh, shit babe ... now I know why you're so fucking eager ... ahh ... no way that little prick of a husband could satisfy a bitch like you ..."
Anthony felt his ears wither as he began to cry. It wasn't that he didn't know how to satisfy his wife, nor that he was physically incapable of doing so. He was incapable of satisfying her, incapable of being there for her because he was incapable of standing up for himself. He had put his job, his career, ahead of his wife, and now he was feeling the consequences. In revenge, she had found someone else to satisfy her desires. In a sickening way, the rabbit was beginning to come to the conclusion that it really was his fault, that he really did deserve this. He really couldn't blame her for what she was doing.
He swore that he could hear the slurping of that massive cock sliding in and out of his wife's cunt, stretched around that girth. There was no doubt in his head that the fucking was beginning to increase in pace and intensity, as the quiet thump-thump of the bed grew quicker and more strained. At the same time, he could hear his wife's voice growing more tense, more shrill in her little gasps, less coherent with her words. In his mind's eye he could imagine the scene unfolding behind him, could see her finger eagerly stimulating herself, bringing her closer and closer to a blissful climax.
It was something she could never fake, not convincingly. The sounds she was making, the sound he heard through the door were unmistakable and genuine. Her queit gasping became loud, became insistent, a regular "ooh ... oooh ... oooooh ..." that grew to a sharp crescendo, an almost painful "Oh god YESSS!" that pierced right through the doorway, into his wilted ears and on down into his heart. His wife, sweet Suzanne, was being swept up in the throes of orgasm, cumming hard around another man's cock.
Anthony wept openly at the sound as he slumped forward, gripping the baluster that separated himself from the darkened great room below. His wife's shrill and ecstatic voice called out again and again. When was the last time he made his wife orgasm like that?
He couldn't even remember.
"Ooh, fuck you're a horny little bitch ... had that pent up in you good," he could hear the rhino's voice, gruff and condescending. "Keep begging, I got plenty more ... ngh, plenty more of this cock to give you."
Her only response was an incoherent whimper, but Anthony couldn't take any more of it. Tears were beginning to blur his vision. Somehow he couldn't bring himself to be truly angry at his wife for what she had done, what she was doing; somehow he lacked the willpower to even stand up for that vow they had made. It was the rhino's words, that voice that he could not abide. He couldn't sit there and listen to someone talk to his wife that way. Dejected, he turned to head back toward the stairs and out the house. He had no clue where he would go.
"Hope that cunt of yours is thirsty ... cause I'm gonna fill it to the brim ..."
He heard it just before he had reached the stairs. Something about the statement made Anthony freeze; something inside of him snapped. By some strange quirk of his newly submissive behavior, his inability to stand up for himself and his family, he could abide the fact that his wife was in the process of having her brains screwed out by another man. Somehow, he could even stand there and listen to it happen without feeling that spark of anger come to life.
Yet that broke him. The thought of another man's seed filling her womb, the idea of another man cumming inside of his wife's treasure, claiming her like that was unbearable. She was still his wife. No man would leave his seed on her. Anthony's fists balled tightly as he turned on his heel and headed straight for the bedroom, kicking the door open and stomping inside, speaking low and resolute. "Get off my wife."
For a moment, the pair did not react to him. Suzanne was still lost in the afterglow of her climax, her eyes open but no seeing clearly, her paw still resting on her mons as she twitched and clutched around the thick, gray cock that was pounding the hell out of her. The rhino had leaned in closer, no longer holding her legs up but had his hands pressed in to the bed on either side of her, positioned for a quick, eager thrust, jarring her hips over and over again. Slowly, almost lazily, the male canted his head upward, steely gray eyes regarding him over the stubby horn on his muzzle. "What'd you say, little man?"
Anthony did not shy away from the glance. The anger that had sparked inside of him was only being fanned by the sight of his wife's virtue being stolen, by the raw vigor of the rut that he was being forced to behold. Unwavering, he spoke up again, louder and clearer. "Get the fuck off my wife."
The rhino's head leaned back and he bellowed out a harsh, cynical laugh. His hands cupped around Suzanne's shoulders, pulling her up a little, grinding into her flesh over and over. "You can have her back in a minute ... soon as I blow my load ..." The male flashed another wicked grin, staring him down. Challenging him. Daring him.
The lapine was not thinking clearly, nor was he seeing clearly. The rhino was twice his size, but his vision blurred and all he could see was an indistinct mass of gray that was defiling his woman. Hands balled tight, Anthony let out a surprisingly vigorous yell before he threw himself forward, bounding the few steps across the room, gaining as much speed as he could before leaping right into that mass of gray, crashing headlong into it.
His vision suddenly went crazy, flashing in a dazzling array of colors and sparks at the impact. The rhino felt like a brick wall, a solid mass of rock hard muscle and even harder bone, and crashing into him had taken its toll. Flailing, Anthony found himself falling back again, crashing into the floor with a loud thud, the breath nearly torn from his lungs. Gasping for air, coughing, he fought to sit upright, fought to blink away the dizziness and the unsteady vision, preparing to throw himself at the offender once again.
To his surprise, he saw the rhino was sprawled out on the floor as well. Somehow his assault had knocked the big guy off balance, shoved him off the bed and on to his back, as well. The male looked a bit disoriented, naked, his raging erection bobbing in the air over him, his eyes briefly looking confused and unfocused.
Anthony saw his chance. Lunging, he became a ball of unleashed fury that crashed once again into the big rhino's chest. Almost unthinking, he latched on, hugged his legs around the male's torso to hold him in place, and threw a wild barrage of punches. They were undirected, visceral, instinctive. The impact of his fists against the solid figure of the rhinoceros reverberated through his arms. His knuckles cried out in pain, his arms begged to stop, but he would not be stopped until he had finished.
An unexpected scream pulled him out of his rage. Shocked, he fell back as the big male pushed himself in the opposite direction. The source of the scream was not readily apparent, but Anthony was bewildered when he realized that the rhino was all but cowering, his arms thrown up in front of his face, a frightened and panicky expression on his face. "Fuck, man, knock it off ... I'm off, I'm off!" Bewildered, the rabbit pulled himself up and stood, looming over the male. His knuckles burned and stung, his muscles ached from the brief but violent reaction, his body told him that he should easily have lost the contest. Yet the rhino was the one backing away, cowering in defeat. "Stop it!"
Swallowing down his confusion, Anthony glowered down at the male. "Get the fuck out of here."
"Dude, take it easy ... let me get my shit and ..."
With vicious intent, Anthony popped his knuckles and took a step forward. "I said, get the fuck out of here."
"All right, all right!" The rhino threw his arms up again to ward off the attack, pushing himself out of the way. When he was clear, he scooped up his belongings - nothing more than a shirt and shorts - and moved to scurry out of the bedroom. "Fucking psycho!"
Anthony stood and watched as the door slammed shut. He was breathing hard, his chest heaving, his mind reeling. A part of his mind was absolutely bewildered at what had just happened. In a matter of a few seconds he had succeeded not only in standing up for himself, but had beaten down a male twice his size and sent him packing. Not only that, but it was the same male who had, only minutes before, been fucking the living daylights out of his wife as if it were his God-given right.
His lips pulled into a strange, quirky smile.
Then a quiet, feminine voice spoke up behind him. "Anthony ... Anthony, oh my god ... I ... I'm ..."
Turning on his heels, he came face to face with his wife. The slender ferret had pushed herself back toward the headboard of the bed, sitting up with a shocked, almost frightened expression on her features. She had pulled up one of the bedsheets to partially cover herself. "Not another fucking word," he cut her off, before stepping heavily in her direction.
The ferret breathed out a startled gasp at the force behind his words, letting go of the bedsheet. It fluttered down and revealed her heaving breasts, her still swollen pussy glistening with her copious fluids. Even now she looked delicate and vulnerable, he thought, even now as he considered tearing in to her. She had betrayed him, had broken their most sacred and heartfelt promises. He had so many things he could have said, so many things that he wanted to say to her.
She looked so vulnerable.
He raised an arm, and she instinctively drew back in anticipation of the strike, hiding her head behind an arm. His paw was not headed in her direction, however; instead, he reached for the tie that hung loosely from his neck and began tearing it away. "Don't you dare fucking look away from me," he barked.
Her eyes looked back to him, startled and frightened. She had had the nerve to simply lie there and spread her legs for another, and do it while he watched. She had hurt him deeply, savagely, incredibly. For that she would have to pay; he would unleash his anger upon her, let her know how much it hurt him, make her apologize. Make her feel sorry.
Yet there she knelt, naked and shaking. So vulnerable. So needy.
"No, no, don't you look away. I'm not done with you ... I'm only just getting started." His hands tore at his shirt, but he had neither the patience nor the ability to unbutton it. A firm, harsh tug liberated the shirt of all of its buttons at once, tiny plastic discs scattering into the air around him as the shirt came off. His tawny-furred chest heaved with a breath as he looked over her naked form. She had been violated, yes, but left unsullied. Her cunt was yet unstained by another's seed.
Fumbling, he reached down and tugged at the belt that held up his slacks, pawed at the clasp that held them up around his waist, tugging them down and discarding them. His boxers had tented up horribly; somewhere in the last few minutes he had developed a massive, raging erection. Suzanne's eyes widened at the sight.
Anthony lost the need for words. He was trying to do too many thing at once : pulling off his boxers, climbing up on the bed, grabbing hold of Suzanne's ankle and pulling her toward him all at the same time. He fumbled and shook with pent up rage, pent up need, all but unthinking as he stripped down naked and mounted his wife with all the grace and formality of a wild creature.
In spite of the rough fucking she had just received, in spite of the size of that cock, she was still tight around him. He could feel the slick heat wrapping around his shaft, urging him in so deeply, enough that he couldn't help but to utter a visceral, deep-throated groan. He could hear her, too, a quiet little gasp at the initial penetration, but it was more of an afterthought, expected and anticipated. He would have her doing more than quietly gasping by the time he was done.
There was no room left in Anthony's brain for anything other than the bestial sensation of being balls-deep inside of his woman. Raw instinct took over as his hips immediately settled into a rapid-fire rut, crashing into her again and again and again. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as he poured all of his energy into the coupling, every last shred of that rage that had swollen up in his core translating into pure, basic lust.
His eyes popped open and fell upon her chests, heaving before him already. A part of his mind remembered the sight of that rhino leering over them, his tongue lapping over their dainty and delicious features. No, no, no ... that couldn't be allowed. This was his wife, those were his for the taking. Roughly, perhaps moreso than he intended to even in his near-feral state, he clutched at her breast in his right paw, squeezing and molesting it, as if by the simple force of his grope he could somehow rid of it of that violation.
She squealed at the assault, whether in pain or in pleasure he did not know. His mind vaguely registered the sensation of her hips beginning to tilt in just the right way to admit him to her most intimate and deepest of recesses, her legs clutching him around the torso and pulling him in close. He was already too far gone to ascribe it to anything more than raw need, the instinct to fuck and be fucked.
Relieving himself of the need for thought, Anthony gave himself over fully to the feral rut. He knew in the back of his mind that there would be time for apologize, for emotional outbursts. There would be time for tender embraces and gentle lovemaking, if he so desired it, but now was not the time. Now he simply needed to claim what was rightfully his, take what was his for the taking all along. Days, weeks ... months of neglect melted away as he remembered, in the most instinctive and indelible fashion, the she belonged to him. A low moan rattled from his chest as he leaned in and leveraged himself in such a way that he could thrust harder, faster, deeper.
Suzanne's whining registered only vaguely in his ears. Nothing was as important as the sensation of his throbbing cock grinding and sliding its way deep into that slick, hot passage, each stroke slaking his thirst, each thrust taking with it a measure of the rage he had built up, each grind bringing him closer and closer to a peak. He could feel it there, growing, swelling within his balls, the urge to do what he had denied the other male; claim her.
Again he could hear her voice in his ears, calling his name, squealing to the gods above as she climaxed again, this time cumming against him. He could feel her cunt clamping down on him, making it equally blissful and strenuous to thrust in so deep. Her cry echoed in his ears, and his senses began to flood with his own impending climax. Anthony leaned his head back, feeling the rush rising up between his loins, swelling until it burst. His eyes popped open and his jaw went slack as he cried out a long, low, shuddering moan, the torrent of his seed splashing out and flooding his wife's passage, claiming her.
She was his.
~~~~~
Nik waited outside the doorway only long enough to hear the creaking of the bed echoing in the house. Nodding to himself, he stepped away from the door and descended the stairs carefully, much more quietly and gracefully than a guy of his bulk might normally appear capable of. Rhinos were, after all, terribly underestimated in their agility. It was a shame.
Pausing in the front room long enough to pull his tight muscle shirt over his chest and his shorts back on, he made his way toward the door, patting the little bulge in his left pocket to make sure it was still there. It didn't measure up to the bulge that was now grossly apparent in his crotch, but that was OK. It was plenty big enough for his needs.
He pushed the door open and peered out into the evening air with a grin. The sun had long gone down and the horizon was beginning to fade into a deep violet color, but it was still light enough outside that he could see well enough. Pulling the door to the house shut behind him, he breathed in deeply of the fresh air before making his way across the street and over to the van. Some of his swagger had been lost; a guy could only stride with so much ease and confidence when his shorts were restricting a massive boner.
He hadn't bothered locking the door to his van. He'd been to enough neighborhoods just like this one, quaint suburban streets where the faux-innocents wouldn't stop to think of breaking into a featureless, windowless panel van parked on the side of the street. Most of them would simply steer clear of it, for whatever reason. The rhino briefly thought it ironic how many of his visits were to the squeaky-clean streets of suburbia like this, where all was supposed to be wholesome and good.
With a heave he hauled himself up into the van, pulling the door shut behind him and leaning his seat back just a bit. Reaching down he liberated himself from his shorts, popping the button open and letting his thick rod out of its hiding. He breathed a loud sigh of relief as he briefly tended to his other bulge, pulling the little white envelope out of his pocket. Lifting it open, he pulled the contents out and ran his thumb against the edge of the bills, counting them with a brief little flipping motion. Twenty of them, hundred dollar bills, neat and crisp. He smiled to himself.
Using his left paw, Nik began to idly stroke at his cock as he tended to his other business, tossing the little envelope full of money onto a manila folder on the passenger's seat, grinning again as he muttered "Mission accomplished" to himself. His keys were fished out of his pocket, careful not to interrupt the slow and methodical stroking of his dick, and he slid them into the ignition. The engine roared to life with a brief rattle and a light vibration. Engine mounts were probably going out - he'd have to look in to that.
The rhino glanced around briefly to make sure no one was looking. It wasn't so much out of a fear of being caught, as much as the fact that they just might ask to help him out with it. He was just that sexy, after all, and he reminded himself of that. "Ah, Nik. You're such a fucking stud," he muttered, leaning back in his seat, masturbating himself as the engine idled.
Almost as if it were an afterthought, he reached over to the passenger's seat and snagged a second manila folder, pulling it out from underneath the first and dropping it on top, pulling it open to review the contents. Several glossy printouts of a female horse, most of them naked and in various positions, spilled out of the file and scattered over the seat. Picking a particularly racy one up and pulling it in close to get a good look, he licked his lips. He felt a little twitch of his cock in his grip as he tugged on it. She was fucking hot.
"Ooh, yeah," he whispered again, a little hoarsely, as he tucked the photo under the clip of his visor, where he could look at it without holding it, letting go of his cock only long enough to give his nuts a brief fondle. Reaching over to the folder, he picked up the paper that was stuffed in along with the photos, a printout of a web form, his eyes scanning the text field for a description of his next job.
I know my husband has been cheating on me for quite some time. He hasn't even been very secretive or discreet about it, and often he has the nerve to come home smelling like his latest conquest. I've tried to put up with it, since he does provide well for me, and does take care of me, but I'm beginning to feel left out. I don't think he knows what he is missing, and I would do anything to make him realize it again. I think if he were to walk in on us, well, you know ... doing it ... that he might get jealous enough to want me again, or maybe realize how much it hurts and stop. Even if he doesn't, I figure, it'd be a damn fine note to end the marriage on. You're one hot looking guy :)
Nik couldn't help but to smirk at that. His eyes scanned the bottom part of the form, a list of check-boxes of various things that she wanted to see, insisted would happen, and things that were forbidden. His eyes lit up as they came across his favorite, and unfortunately one of the least commonly checked, options. He was allowed to cum. In her, on her, once, twice or multiple times, it didn't matter.
"Well that beats a hand job any day of the week," he said to himself, putting the paper down and beginning to pull his shorts back on, grunting as he stuffed his erection back inside and zipped it up tight. Shuddering, he patted the bulge in his shorts. "Down boy! Looks like we got a date with a real hottie, and this one is gonna let us get off."
Chuckling to himself, Nik put the file back into its folder before he pulled his seat belt on and put the van into gear. "And to think," he grunted to himself as he glanced in the mirror before pulling out into the street. "They always told me being a marriage counselor was going to be a dud." Shaking his head, he stepped on the gas and headed toward his next appointment. It was a good night to be on the job.