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Morning—noon—evening. A day passes, then morning—noon—evening all over again. Molly's work routine had experienced a shift change ever since she'd agreed to Violet's latest plan. Keeping herself fit and free of injury, the hybrid rehearsed with Emily from ten 'til three, with breaks and lunch in-between (thankfully!). Then, partly to fill the downtime and claw back some measure of worthwhile work before their hours were up, the pair were sent on errands throughout the club. Mainly backstage: deliveries, messages, and the like. Everyone got a turn doing grunt work. So said Rylan when he paid them a visit during training, for Molly's benefit more so than Emily's.

Her working day now gave her more time to spend in the evenings with Cade. For the speed at which they became romantically entangled, they did not have the time they would have preferred to grow the relationship. This change in her hours, albeit temporary, gave it a chance to blossom.

Blossom...burst...

Molly's mind was preoccupied with a burgeoning anticipation. It welled up inside her. She felt like she was about to explode. With determination she practised her hunt routine with Emily, trying to prove something to herself.

Or to another — Cade.

She promised her boyfriend a spectacle. With precious little time spent together, despite intentions, it was more important than ever to show off. She longed for more than tender kisses and petting. He did too. She knew this show would do more than any ordinary seduction could. It wasn't just a job now.

Her next appearance was going to be Violetta's headline act. The pressure...was on.

* * *

“Wait up."

Molly jogged over to Emily, the antelope's costume a work-in-progress. Shreds of tan fabric, cut and torn into the likeness of wild scraps of cloth, supported her bosom and masked her privates. Frayed, bristly string held the clothes (if you could call them that!) secure. They were still making changes to get the look just right — that cavewoman aesthetic, rough yet sexy. As she jogged, the clothing heaved with her bouncing flesh. The patches of makeshift bra held itself together against all odds while the bikini-loincloth mishmash waved in the wind. Her furry ass was broad enough to eclipse its coverage — her tail wobbling atop a thin strip of beige-brown. Wide hips rocked almost bare on the front and back. Only the thinnest portion of her was hidden — the most intimate.

The lioness glanced at her, and looked quizzical. “What's up?"

“I..." Molly stopped her jog, pausing for a second to catch her breath after a long session.

Emily was naked, her athletic form available to study. The lioness stood half a foot shorter than Molly, more when you considered Molly's horns. What she lost in stature she made up for in raw strength. Her body rippled with muscle, tucked neatly into the sensual flow of her curves. As her long, flexible tail whisked around, flicking without conscious control — an instinctual habit — she turned around fully. Her sandy fur helped hide her nakedness from a distance, but up close there was no mistaking this golden blur for anything other than a goddess.

She pulled the zip closed on her bag, and slung it over her shoulder, not bothering to dress.

Molly ignored the alluring squeeze the straps produced on Emily's breasts, and spoke: “I was wondering: should I have some kind of pelt, in addition to these?" She gestured to her current costume. “We are going for a primitive tribal look after all."

“Maybe it could work," the lioness replied, “but I think what's more likely is that it clashes with our own fur. I think what we have is enough."

“I don't like wearing it. The string's very itchy."

“Yeah, it cuts into you, doesn't it? There's probably a better material to use — but hey, they won't be worn for long!"

“True," Molly smiled, and together the pair exited. Emily sauntered away from her, casting a wink in her direction and exaggerating the sway of her hips and taut buttocks. She headed for the changing rooms, whilst Molly shoved her own street clothes ingloriously into a satchel of her own, still sporting 'cavegirl sheik'.

* * *

After a few minutes in the mirror reflecting on her costume, it was almost time to leave. Molly had one last job, dropping by Violet's office and picking up the latest rosters to give to tonight's performers. They knew ahead of time when to come in, but what duties and on what stage you danced were often adjusted until the very last minute. Even the general roster stuck to the cork-board in the corridor between Stage Three and the changing rooms got updates on the regular.

The time was five o'clock, and a bunch of her fellow dancers had begun to filter in, filling the changing rooms. She followed soon after, doing the rounds like a hospital orderly.

Knock-knock.

“Here you go."

Rinse.

Repeat.

Names and names and names...they just kept coming! Molly had joked that she would start using species to remember faces. Dog, cow, cat...a reluctant chuckle escaped her as the notion appeared more reasonable the longer she worked here.

She spotted Angelica's name on the list. This gave her pause. She had not yet seen the exotic sparrowhawk perform, though she was endlessly fascinated by her. Avian hybrids were so rare — and so strange to think about. Those wing-like arms, covered in feathers — quills pruned to symmetric lengths on both sides. A body that needed hours of maintenance, she figured, comparing her own physical tribulations to an imagined lot. So it would remain in her imagination, until her first viewing collapses her thoughts back to reality...mundanity, with ever the glimpse of greatness teased. That maybe, just maybe, it would be as amazing as she pictured it to be.

Molly checked the page. Tuesday-to-Friday.

Shit! She's on all week and I won't be here to see it.

Molly sighed. A shame that she won't catch her soaring.

Oh well, back to work.

Greeting the aforementioned sparrowhawk, she exchanged a copy of tonight's roster for a word or two of commiseration for missing out on her dances. Angelica politely bade her farewell and returned to dressing up for her first show, leaving Molly alone in the corridor.

Continuing her task, she knocked on another door.

Empty.

She moved to the next.

Empty again.

Next.

Rapping her knuckles on this one, she was met with no answer.

Next...

Two doors down, she found Sammy. He was in a room alone, facing away from the door that crept open silently under Molly's care. His naked bottom half greeted her, a tiny tank-top wrapped around his upper chest and shoulders. He danced to music playing through wireless earphones — their tinny whisper audible to Molly at a distance of several metres. Loud enough to conceal the world from his senses.

He danced. Small, fluid motions. Bouncing his apple-bottomed cheeks to the funky beat. Rings of light circling the small orbs nestled in his comically-oversized ears pulsated. Glowed. Its rhythm matching the song.

Molly knocked on his door. “Ahem!"

Startled, Sammy spun 'round and mumbled a greeting, fidgeting as he removed the earpieces. Molly crossed the room and handed the now-shy bunny boy the laminated page.

Why paper and plastic — whether it be attached to clipboards, cork-boards, or binders — in this day and age? Deals better with spills than anything electronic. What spills, you ask? Any spills. The line of duty is seldom spotless.

He snatched the page — a hurried look on his face. Molly smiled. His shyness amused her, even though he struts and gyrates for a paying crowd as a living, and even though his furry crotch wobbled gently with his nervous energy, bare to her right now — she felt no strangeness. The atmosphere was normal. Just business. Sammy attempted a modicum of concealment by turning sideways, but this only gave Molly the perfect outline of his body. Especially the large behind that swelled from a comparatively-narrow waist.

“Sorry for intruding," she said whilst bowing.

Sammy crossed his arms and chuckled. “It's okay. Just surprised me is all." His gaze drew itself to the roster in his hands.

Molly moved on. Another vacant room. Not a busy night, she remarked, hooves making a muffled clacking as she walked.

Speaking of muffled — a faint noise intrigued her. It came from the next room over, teasing her with its secrets. Molly leaned against the wall, following the vague sounds until her senses confirmed it was behind that door. Plenty of areas in the club were soundproofed, especially those places where peace and quiet was needed most. The quality of the dampening was superb, Molly could attest to that whenever she was off-duty.

She knocked. No answer. This time, however, she knew there was someone inside. She checked the roster — who had she not seen yet? Still half to go.

Gripping the handle, she gently turned and opened the door a crack. The noise hit her like a gust of wind; blasting her senses. The grunting...the panting...the sounds of a rut.

And she saw who was taking part.

Jace had his fellow hybrid Derek kneeling on a bench-seat, propped against the wall. The tall stag relentlessly pounded the spotted dog's ass. His hips swung in wide arcs, letting Derek flow with them, before slamming his cock to the hilt. Their visceral fucking played out in front of Molly's own eyes, her surprise meted by a single internal remark: good call, Rebecca.

Derek's paws bounced, suspended in the air as he was rammed from behind, whining like a lovelorn stray. Plump, weathered pads with the thinnest rim of pink flesh marking the seam between his sole and his snow-white fur — mottled with dark spots running along his muscled legs. Enough packed cords of those muscles had slackened to give the appearance of softer edges. The quake of each thrust rippled across the entire length of his limbs, ending with a crescendo at his tight ass. Loud, heavy smacks — muffled by fur — pierced the air. Jace gripped Derek's waist, his fingers digging into his partner's sides. No doubt painfully, but they were blind to the world. Lost in ecstasy.

Molly remained dumbstruck until enough repeated thrusts had shook her from her daze with their ear-splitting frequency. The moaning and grunting of her entwined colleagues escorted her out of the room. Neither noticed her. She stepped back into the corridor, and let the noise return to a muffled mystery as the door gently swept closed.

Try as she might, the image was burned into her mind's eye. It wouldn't fade for a while.

She pondered knocking again, and opening the door this time to interrupt. Deciding against this, the antelope hybrid slung the roster by the small notched opening in the plastic laminate around the thin end of the handle. Her cervine brother could have his fun, she thought.

Her next steps were wobbly. Weak at the knees. She exhaled, and made a sound when breathing that mixed a chuckle and a sigh. Putting what she saw from her mind, Molly moved on.

Several more rooms were checked. Most were empty. Juni was in one, with Esper sitting on a bench opposite the cowgirl. Only Juni greeted Molly with a happy 'moo' and swiped the roster from her hands surprising quick for someone of her size. Esper stared at her phone — only nodding once Molly coughed to announce her presence.

Closing their door, Molly counted her visits. Only one room left. Still a bit shaken by the intensity of Jace and Derek's litte...uh...meeting, she opened the last door and came face-to-face with Rebecca.

Huh, she thought in the split second she glimpsed a sliver of her canine colleague's fur, she's not on duty tonight, is she?

No, she answered herself, glancing at the page in her hand. No, she's not.

She's just hanging arou—

As the door swung wide, she found Rebecca splayed on the central bench. One leg held in the air, the other bent with her paw pressed against the seat. An arm travelled around her head and across the back of her neck, stroking the fur between padded fingers. The other arm held at a distance her phone, clicking as photos were taken with each stab of her clawed thumb. Her face held a sultry expression, switching between different poses designed to inflame the lusts of anyone watching.

Being the only voyeur present, Molly made herself known. Rebecca's naked form twisted, her eyes meeting Molly's. A smirk formed in the corner of her mouth, her lips undecided between baring teeth or pouting for a kiss.

“The boys doing it?" she asked, gloating.

Molly nodded.

Rebecca harrumphed. “Told you." She returned to her selfies, licking her free hand and matting down a sprout of unruly fur. Then, she tweaked her nipples and slid her hand downwards, fingers flanking her canine labia, puffy with desire.

“I'm not dancing tonight..."

“Yes I know."

“..."

Molly spoke again: “so why are you here?"

“Needed the space. Not a lot of room in my apartment."

“To take pictures?"

“Yeah," Rebecca said, letting the flash subside and closing her legs, “I told you — I do online work."

“I remember."

Molly turned to leave, but was stopped by her colleague. “You could try it..."

“Me?" she replied, bemused.

“Got the body for it. Don't deny it, you sexy thing! If there's an upside to all this fur it's how good you look in pics. Nice clean body with lotsa colour."

Molly paused, and held her tongue. The temptation was there. And why not? It wasn't like she was being a prude; she had already 'sunk' lower. Before letting her silence drag on too long, she laughed and waved meekly at Rebecca.

“Eh, ahem...I think I'm doing enough already. Don't you?"

Rebecca smiled at her. They said goodbye to one another and parted, Molly closing the door.

Outside, she thought about what Rebecca had said.

Me?

Camming?

Cade's already a little nervous about what I've told him.

She tidied herself and dressed for the outside world, leaving behind the skimpy loincloth and bra. Walking to her car, Molly felt relieved that she could at last take a break from the rigours of the day's rehearsals.

* * *

The warm smell of coffee filled the kitchen as her Home Assist AI set into motion a bevvy of welcome automated chores the moment she unlocked the door. A fresh pot sat in the coffee machine's tray, enticing her with its bitter scent after a long, strenuous day. Her oven began its pre-heat cycle in anticipation of the cold leftovers from yesterday she'd shoved in the fridge.

Molly grabbed a tablet screen that extended from the wall in the kitchen and tapped several times; then, after tossing her bag to the side, she ran upstairs to change. Cade was coming over. She wanted to look decent.

After twenty minutes of relaxation, with her dinner cooking, Cade called to the door.

“Evening," he said, quite brusquely.

“You okay?"

He noted the concern in her eyes. “Nothing. Busy day. Might need to work tonight."

“Well that's not the worst thing in the world."

He chuckled. “Yeah, but I don't get the same overtime that you do!"

They hugged and kissed, slowly escorting themselves from the front door to the kitchen. Their hands wandered, and in the time it took them to cross the great gulf of the NuPlex-model housing unit they found plenty of time to feel, tease, and squeeze.

“Something smells good."

“There's enough for you if you'd like."

“What is it? I smell cumin and—"

His words were interrupted by a low rumble from his midsection.

“It's just food; you'll eat it no matter what it tastes like, judging by your stomach's protest."

Cade leaned against her, holding her firmly. “Hmm...guess so. Now, what do we do with the time in-between now and dinner...time we have all to ourselves?"

What followed were small moments of intimacy, spurred on by their initial kissing and fondling. They walked in tandem, shifting to each other's footsteps. Keeping their hold on the other. Molly's taller frame meant Cade was at a disadvantage. It was she and she alone who dictated when their lips met. When they did — in sparse, rationed moments of bliss — it was a moment they treasured. Slowly, and with sure handling, they began to disrobe.

Molly held back a sigh. Their relationship had been relatively modest so far, which was surprising given her line of work. The temptation was there. Always had been. But never the right time. They came close to a proper fuck their first night as a couple — a heated, slightly drunken haze the result of celebration, passion gradually trudging towards full sex — but opposing schedules robbed them of their time. Again and again they were separated. Bilked out of a night of complete closeness by fate. Not any more...

She pounced!

Molly exposed herself as she hurtled towards her lover, bare breasts surrounding Cade's field of view. Falling, he caught the seat of the couch squarely on-centre. With the weight of his anthro girlfriend off of his puny human legs he lunged forward and renewed his lustful attack on her chest. Molly's grip grew ever tighter. She let her arms move to strip the last clinging piece of clothing that had adorned her top half descend. The rest — a loose, lengthy skirt — draped over Cade's legs and waist. She pulled him away from her bosom and locked lips.

Cade battled her tongue, inciting them both to step on the gas in this metaphorical motorcade of love and grab as much ass as possible. Molly felt his hands caress her butt, fingers ploughing through the soft fur. A droplet of sweat fell from Cade's temple, staining his shirt collar with dark blotches. Molly undid his shirt buttons. Fumbling for the tiny discs, her enlarged fingertips missed the mark many times. Impatient, she tore open the shirt. Cade didn't care, he was lost in her body. What was one measly shirt compared to a night of pleasure?

Molly's tail twitched — its short tuft flicking her skirt as Cade's hands dug greedily into her curves. She licked and sucked his neck; the bare skin tasted salty. Her tongue dragged itself around his jaw and ear, her mate's eyes shut, reeling at the sensation.

A sudden jolt shot through her. Cade's touch had graced her lower lips. The briefest of contacts, yet she was hooked. She manoeuvred her hips and found a better resting straddle atop her lover. Eager and willing, she took his hand and slid it closer to her womanhood, begging for his touch. Cade answered. His digits pressing the furred flesh around her entrance, then...her pussy itself.

Like electricity surging through a conductor — Molly came alive. The stress, the exhaustion, the pains of the day evaporated. Zapped by the lighting-bolts coursing through her from her sensitive pussy. Her spine tingled. Her body shook. She felt Cade's hardness through his trousers, and scrabbled to tear off the rest of his clothing to make their union complete.

Cade's phone pierced the cloud of lust. Its ringing loud, annoying, and extremely unwelcome.

No...

Molly pleaded with any higher power who'd listen.

No again, not tonight...please...so close...

No answer came from the divine. Molly, her expression heavy with loss, moved away from Cade, putting some separation in her straddling; Cade's own eyes betrayed his disappointment. They stared at one another, letting the phone ring. Its vibration rattled the solid table it lay upon — the noise uncomfortably guttural. Its shrill shrieks, demanding attention, split the remnants of the sensual atmosphere straight down the middle. Severing the passion between them.

Molly held her eyes closed as Cade gently nuzzled her breast. A long, slow exhale followed.

Cade finally broke away, no longer even attempting to stir feelings of intimacy.

“Aww shit...!" he exclaimed, a weak chuckle parting his salivating lips.

“Don't answer it," she purred, nibbling his cheek.

The phone did not stop.

“If it's work, it's important."

“Just quit and let me have you all to myself!"

He noticed the frustration in her voice. The hunger that needed sating. There was nothing he could do though, if he wanted to keep his job. Molly knew that. All they had was a sense of honour in defeat.

“You'd like that, wouldn't you. Your boyfriend, living off of stripper money." Cade paused. “You probably earn more than me..."

“That's more than can be said for most sex work. I'm very lucky to be in a particular niche."

“And I'm very lucky to have met you."

“D'aww, lay on the charm some more, Cade. Tease me just as you have to leave!"

“I didn't mean it like that..."

Another kiss stole the air from his lungs. This one was different. More frantic. Like Molly was trying to clamp him against the couch. Her body enclosing around him, locking him in-place. A cute fantasy. One he'd love to indulge. Try as he might, however, he couldn't clear the incessant ringing from his mind.

“It won't keep ringing forever," Cade said, disappointed he would have to leave this loving embrace.

“So?"

“Oh so you want me to get shouted at by my boss?"

“Fuck...I'll shout at you if you can't stay...not after all this time...all this build-up!"

She grabbed his hips as her hands slid under his waistline, beneath the material of his trousers. “Don't you dare stop me," she growled, a snarl forming on her elongated snout. Her breathing became ragged. She stopped responding to Cade's gentle push and kept exploring his body.

“Molly," he said.

She didn't answer.

“Molly!"

After hearing his voice raised above normal, she snapped out of her trance. Cade sighed and kissed her, running his hands along her sides, down once then up again to the cusp of her breasts. The soft fur tickled his palms.

“I'm sorry. I know we thought we had time tonight."

“I understand."

The phone rang out, leaving an eerie silence.

“I need to call the college back."

Molly's head fell. “Fuck..."

“I..."

Her hand circled 'round to Cade's crotch, palm pressing over his erection, holding him dearly. Then, she gave up, and withdrew. She lifted one leg and removed herself from Cade, landing beside him on the couch. He looked down, not meeting her gaze. Molly looked away too, surveying the room. Anything to calm her down.

They needed another date — time blocked out for them and them alone. Fuck who else wanted to drag Cade away from her. Fuck them! Preferably with something rusty.

Cade moved to stand, but she stopped him. “Not yet," she said, “just sit for a moment."

He complied. They let the cool air of the room settle their nerves.

A small amount of time passed, no more than five minutes. To them, however, it felt like forever.

“Almost finished rehearsing," Molly said, now looking over at her boyfriend.

Cade smiled. “The club really gave you all that time, not out dancing...earning them money? Just you and...uh...Emily, was it? You and her."

“Yeah. It's weird. It's stressful. But I can't stop saying yes to this shit."

“You'll hear no complaints from me," he replied.

They went quiet again. Just a longing stare between them to pass the time.

Molly spoke, but her voice sounded nervous: “you're still okay with what I told you is gonna happen?"

“You say that like we both aren't filthy-minded perverts," Cade joked, reminding her that minutes ago she was ready to fuck like a wild animal.

“There's a difference between a relationship and kinky stuff on it's own."

Cade made an exaggerated frown. “I was hoping for the kinky stuff," he sniggered.

“Heh," Molly sighed happily, “and it's too late to change your mind — I have your booking. A nice, private place to view me and Emily from. I could even bring you backstage — meet the others."

“Whoa there honey! I'm not some piece of eye candy to parade around the office!"

Molly snorted, barely holding back a laugh.

“Very well, dear. We'll take it slow when it comes to you visiting strip clubs. Your poor, delicate heart might explode."

They teased each other for a while longer. A few rounds of verbal sparring later, Cade had risen and recovered his phone, bundling the remains of his shirt underneath his coat. One hand stroked Molly's cheek, the other held a tight a fistful of plastic buttons.

“Go on," Molly cooed. “Go back to your place and work the night away — I'll be here thinking of you."

They shared one last kiss before night's end.

Cade glowed. His eyes blazed, direct and dangerously enthralling. Gently removing himself from the kiss, the shimmer of saliva glistening on their lips, he whispered into her ear, his voice soft as silk:

“Goodnight."