FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Bertha had excused herself from the Casa de Cody, her mind running at overdrive through the next couple of days. Though she goes on autopilot in her housewifely duties, she can't help but turn her attention over and over again to the strapping young man.

She wasn't sure how long it had been, nor was she sure where everyone was exactly, but one sweltering summer day, when she was outside tending to her garden, she wiped the sweat from her brow and paused when the sound of a delivery truck passing through broke her free from her reverie.

Peering over her fence, she sees all the cars, but hers were gone. And yes, Cody's motorcycle was in his driveway. With her heart fluttering and that tingle spreading deep within her core and all the way to her hoof tips, she heads to the porch and picks up the package.

Footsteps, quick and hard, catch her attention. She clutches the package close to her chest, her breath catching in her throat.

Cody.

The coyote again wears no shirt, though he has airy jogging shorts tight around his waist instead of worker's clothing. He slows down, fingers to his wrist, glancing up at her. Smiling, he waves.

"Checking me out, Bertha?" he calls.

Bertha stumbles, dropping her package.

In a flash, he's there, catching the box and holding it up to her.

So close, she can smell his maleness, his exertion.

Her tail swishes, practically dusting off her front step.

"It's customary to thank someone when they help you," Cody says, a slight growl in his voice. It isn't threatening, but it is, not in the way Bertha thought. In the way she feared.

She gulps, taking the package in her hands. Cody slides his fingers over hers, standing tall, looking into her eyes. You were excited to receive this. What is it?"

"O-oh, t-this? It's nothing, it's...."

She looks over his shoulder and back and forth down the street. "Follow me."

He whistles as she turns around, walking toward the backyard. She places the package down and fumbles around overalls. "I got something for this. Let me see..."

Punct! FWWWP!

A claw tears through the tape as Cody grunts that last bit of exertion, opening up the package. "Well, why would you show your neighbor these things, neighbor?" He asks, lifting up a piece of string by his finger. From it dangles a Holstein-spotted bikini. "I wonder whose size this is?"

She covers her face, which burns up even more than the rest of her body.

"And this thing," he says, taking the smaller box from within the larger box. "The Canine Cervix Crusher?" He tuts. "What will they think of next for these fake dicks."

Bertha spreads her fingers, revealing her eyes. She first sees the coyote's smile, his tongue running over his teeth.

"You know, Bertha, a woman of your physical perfection wouldn't have such need for these things, I think." He places the premium toy on the table and folds his arms over his chest. "Maybe you lured me in here for something nefarious." He tuts, wagging a finger.

"Me?

"Oh yes. Though it is okay," he says. "I understand. You have quite a beautiful life here with a handsome husband and family. Meanwhile, I'm all on my own," he says, opening his arms wide. "So easy to manipulate. You could tell your husband that I came to you."

"What? No!"

"No, so that is not your arousal I smell?" He says, stepping closer, sniffing multiple times, and getting right up toward her neck.

Bertha gasps, clutching her neck, shaking her head. "I-I'm sorry, you're right. This is wrong. I can't do this."

"Oh, but you can, and you planned to seduce me right here and now."

"You're seducing me!"

"Am I?" he gasps, placing a hand on his chest and fluttering his eyes. "I am shocked you think that way but flattered nonetheless." He pulls up a chair and sits on it, stroking his finger up and down along the package, glancing up toward her. "After all, you are my type. I have been hoping, waiting, dreaming for a perfect day to pour my attention all over you and see, no, experience, the bountiful goddess trapped within."

Seeing that sorrowful look upon him, Bertha sighs, and she reaches down for her overalls, unbuttoning one clasp and then the other, letting the pants fall to her ankles.

The coyote licks his lips, his free hand trailing to tap at his thigh, ready to pull the trigger.