FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Like every morning since the apocalypse began, I woke up to an unfamiliar ceiling in a house or building I didn't own. This morning's home happened to be a single-story suburban dwelling not too far from the main highway.

Not long before I made the abandoned place my shelter for the night, another freak rainstorm occurred. It came without warning after I decided to search through a few neighboring houses that didn't appear ransacked long ago. Luckily, the last one I found myself stuck inside had no decaying corpses or black mold in every corner. The previous mammal to loot it though did brutalize the wiring and plumbing though. As well as tearing apart the furniture. Or maybe they were wild animals?

Either way, I fell asleep with my back to the wall. Like every morning, I woke up before dawn. My canine cock also strained with morning wood. Both of which were traits I thanked my Doberman heritage for. I could barely tell anymore.

I woke up with morning wood though. At first, I considered dealing with my erection the traditional way. My fingers already brushed against the growing tent in my dirty jeans, and I palmed my neglected cock through the fabric. Then, I started picturing handsome, naked, and rugged men of every species in my head before stopping myself.

"Not now," I muttered.

I still had a long way to go before reaching the outskirts of Milwaukee. Trekking through Chicago had been a nightmare. The last thing I wanted was to stall a while longer.

Ignoring the erection wasn't too difficult, but it did get harder with each day. My left paw could only do so much, after all. Thankfully, I wasn't a hormonal teenager anymore.

Sitting up and yawning, I whined at feeling my muscles still ache from the previous day's long ride. My uncropped Doberman tail wagged though at seeing sunlight trickle through a broken window and I stretched my limbs before warily grabbing my backpack. Waking up alive the next morning didn't necessarily mean someone didn't take my belongings. Thankfully, nothing was out of place; a few reusable bottles full of rainwater, granola bars and sealed food cans, a few state maps, some nuggets of gold, a compass, a few broken electronics, extra clothing, and semi-intact magazines collected over the years.

Mentally, I also counted the switchblade knife in my jeans' back pocket.

I didn't know who used to own the abandoned house. Some framed pictures still hung from the cracked, peeling walls though. Photos of a smiling tiger family—a mother, father, and four cubs of varying ages—posing in front of beautiful scenery. Like the Hollywood sign or in front of a decked Christmas tree no longer present. Seeing the parents threatened to bring up dark memories I immediately pushed aside, and with folded ears, I went into the house's connected garage.

The previous owners left in a hurry, not even bothering to close the doors to protect it from looters, let alone the elements. My bicycle was still left leaning against an old van too rusted and damaged to ever drive again. Examining the bike's tire pressure for a second, I decided to try going for another few dozen miles.

I readjusted the straps of my backpack. With perked ears and alert eyes, I swung my legs over the seat and gripped the handlebars. The worn shoe on my left foot pressed on the familiar pedal as my right foot kicked the brakes up. Then, I took off down the littered driveway and onto the desolate road, bobbing and weaving between overgrown plants.

A cold morning breeze tickled my nose as I pedaled between the husks of empty cars. All around me, overgrown lawns could be seen for miles. A normal sight to behold after roughly three to four years of wandering what used to be the United States.

The apocalypse has arrived with plenty of warning. Everyone knew it would come but not like a feral beast, bouncing from the undergrowth and sticking its sharp fangs in our necks. I had been a high schooler when things slowly began to fall apart. Having grown up in the foster system, then eventually spending almost a year in a prison farm for juvenile offenders, I didn't really focus on politics or world news—at least, not until the extreme weather started.

First, a few more hurricanes here and there along the Gulf Coast. Then, a massive ice storm along the American Southwest turned states like California, Arizona and even Texas into frozen hells for several weeks. Severe lightning storms, brutal heatwaves, a season of tornadoes and another pandemic. The straw that broke the camel's back came in the form of a nationwide blackout. First, the East Coast lost power, then the West Coast, and then the Rockies, and finally, the Midwest. And the power didn't turn back on again. Everyone called the intervening weeks afterward 'the Collapse'.

As mentioned earlier, I'd been a juvenile offender serving my time in a prison farm, for assaulting my foster mother and attempting to murder my foster father. The judge and jury didn't care that it had been in self-defense, only that I had a criminal record (mostly petty stealing, panhandling, running away from home, etc.) at sixteen. In their eyes, I was a delinquent punk who needed a reality check.

Admittedly, in some ways I deserved it.

What I didn't deserve though was nearly getting beaten to a pulp by my then-foster parents. It was they who attacked me after discovering porn under my bed. They couldn't stand that not only was I a deviant, but a homosexual deviant too. They wanted to punish me for it, and so did the other prisoners at the farm when word spread that I liked boys. A few even tried making me their personal fleshlights, or a bitch to pass around like a blunt. I managed to hold my ground though, and by some stroke of luck, didn't get raped during my time at the farm.

After a year of hard labor and shitty food, we woke up one morning to learn society was collapsing. The U.S. government was overwhelmed, so were supply chains, and even the Internet. At first, barely anything changed. The days turned into a couple weeks, and the guards watching over us stopped coming to work at some point. Then, a psychotic lynx named Jeff Wrightstown gutted the warden, leading to a riot that culminated in everyone escaping.

We tried sticking together, but each of us had our own interests. I left after they expected me to be their outlet for sex. Ever since, I'd wandered from settlement to settlement, and survival group to survival group, wherever I could find food. Most of the time, they didn't welcome outsiders for long. In my previous group's case, they didn't take my past very well.

I avoided the enclaved cities at all costs, though few remained. Everyone I ever met heard of the horror stories. Going there was no different than returning to the prison farm, only the wardens in these walled-off fortresses didn't bother pretending the U.S. Constitution still mattered.

No, I was heading into Canada. Rumor had it that a stable settlement had been built somewhere along the Hudson Bay. I hoped the rising waters didn't affect it. Otherwise, I could always go back further inland. If not to stay away from the harsh cold up north and the unbearable humidity down south.

Speaking of which, the air itself felt like July, despite it being mid-April. Yet I didn't quit pedaling. Suburbia became shopping centers and strip malls. Rotting clothes and overgrown, half-destroyed stores went on for what seemed like miles. An exit onto a highway stood clogged with forgotten cars. Seeing the road ahead was flooded, and I didn't want to know what kinds of infestation swam in the waters, I decided to take the ramp, going the longer route. Within the cars, some of their windows still intact, I could spot suitcases.

I didn't consider smashing the glass or looting them. Traveling lightly worked wonders for me. The last thing I needed were useless things to weigh me down.

However, I reconsidered it after exiting the highway and turning down an empty boulevard. Nestled beside the concrete pillars of the highway, half-overridden with green plants, I made out the words 'Den Adult Store' in bold lettering. The tattered remains of a gay pride flag hung beneath entangling vines.

My sheath stirred again upon reading it. At several points between journeys, I'd come across sex shops or adult stores, often with their stock left intact.

It can't hurt to take a quick look, I mused.

Shaking my head, I tried convincing myself not to be stupid.

The legs controlling the bicycle had a mind of their own. Twice, I wanted to cycle past the structure and twice, I failed to not let my dick think for me. My dick yearned to read and ogle at new content, new pictures as well as muscular mammals fucking each other. Whatever helped made the lonely nights more bearable, or helped my left paw bring me to climax. In the end, I kicked up the brakes, climbed off, and stepped around the building to find a back entrance.

Well, I found it. As well as three surprises.

The first surprise came in the form of an outfitted truck, parked in the middle of the small lot. It wasn't abandoned, instead armored and well-used. My immediate attention though went to the sounds of moaning and slurping noises nearby.

The second surprise came in the form of two men next to the vehicle—a pair of lean and tall black cats, one standing and the other kneeling. The latter was bobbing his head up and down on the former's crotch while he stood with his back to me. The standing feline's blue jeans rested around his knees, his ass thrusting towards the other male cat's jaws and flexing between labored breaths. Behind the thrashing tail were two perfectly round, hemispherical globes, obsidian-furred and hardly containing an ounce of fat. From the way my head peeked around the corner, I couldn't get a better view, but I dared not to move. I was too transfixed by an act I only saw in my dreams and in long-ago photos.

The third surprise came when I accidentally stepped on a twig, and without hesitation, the two males immediately whirled around to face me. The cat kneeling held a knife and the other a pistol, and I stepped out with both paws raised up. The one who'd been kneeling asked me something, wiping his chin using the back of his free paw, and I saw their faces.

Very, very similar faces. Almost like doppelgängers.

"Y-You're...You're twins?" I gaped, trapped between shock and sudden lust.

Suddenly, the erection in my jeans went harder than I ever felt. Indeed, the two men I'd accidentally stumbled upon giving/receiving a blowjob were identical. Not just in their amber eyes, handsome jawlines, black fur and marble-white spots around their muzzles and whiskers. I swore that at some point, the two decided to dress the same. Both wore plaid red shirts beneath dark-blue fleece jackets, sporting even similar shoes.

They weren't just two men having sex. They were twin brothers.

I was too shocked by the revelation to notice the other twin pull his pants up. I did get pulled back to reality when the cocksucking brother hissed, "What are you doing there?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I was passing through and just found this place," I stammered out, trying to calm myself as I kept my paws raised. "I'm not looking for any trouble..."

"So, you say," the twin with the pistol smirked. "There's an awful lotta trouble around here."

"I was just getting to the best part, and you had to give us a fuckin' heart attack, didn't you?" The twin wielding the knife stepped closer to me, chuckling and licking his lips. "Hey, Blaine, check out his pants. He's not complaining about what he saw."

Without thinking, I lowered my left paw to cover my hard-on, blushing as the two felines laughed. Before I could even say anything though or ask about what I'd just witnessed, all three of us jumped at the sounds of nearby gunfire. Shouting too, from around a few blocks away.

The raging boner in my pants went limp.

"Raiders."

"Plenty of 'em too," the cat referred to earlier as 'Blaine' mentioned. "We better go."

The cocksucking twin rushed over to the opened entrance of the adult store.

"Bro, we gotta go!" He hissed into the darkness, pocketing his knife. Turning to me with my paws still raised, the cat motioned to the outfitted truck as he asked, "Well, are ya coming or not? These raiders aren't exactly gonna talk before shooting at you."

"With you?" I blindly asked, dumbfounded. "Why would I get in the truck with you?"

Further gunfire a few blocks away made our ears perk up high, and Blaine was already turning on the engine.

"It's up to you, stranger!" he hollered.

"Ambrose, c'mon!" The nameless twin growled again with a raised fist, banging on the doorframe.

Standing still, I was left further speechless at who else emerged from the adult store. Yet another carbon copy of the two black cats; except he had a steely-eyed glare directed at me while carrying a box in his arms. The only difference in his clothes were the jeans he wore being black.

"Triplets?" I muttered to myself.

"Who's he?" The third twin asked.

"Don't worry, Bro," Blaine mentioned. "He ain't armed."

"Caught me and Blaine in the parking lot," the nameless twin snorted with a shrug. The one named Ambrose rolled his eyes. "C'mon, dude! We gotta go before they catch us!"

Raiders were unpredictable when in groups. If one were lucky, then they'd kill you first. If not, then it depended on each group whether they'd turn you into their sex slave or a next meal if food was scarce. Not wanting to figure out which category the approaching raiders fell under, I tried to grab my bicycle.

"What're you doing?!" the nameless triplet hissed.

"My bike!" I barked back.

Another gunshot echoed close by, maybe around the other end of the building.

"Leave it, you dumbass! Leave it!"

While Blaine had scooted into the passenger seat and Ambrose went for the driver's seat, the nameless triplet practically dragged me into the backseat with him. Seeing the tailgate, my brain didn't register the secured boxes and bins tied down and tucked together. My nose recognized the scents of gasoline, oil, and traces of unspoiled grain. Metals too.

The outfitted truck lurched out of the tiny parking lot, swerving down the boulevard. My heart raced a thousand miles a minute as I instinctively clutched the black cat's arm, until the shooting we'd heard earlier turned silent.

"You can let go now," the feline informed me.

"Ah!" I let go, leaning against my window as overrun shops and abandoned stores passed us by. "Sorry about that. Never been in a car for years."

"No problem...I'm sorry about your bike."

I let out a tired, tired sigh. "No…No, you were right. Better to leave it than risk it."

A heavy silence filled the vehicle's interior for several seconds.

"What's your name, stranger?" The twin sitting beside me in the backseat pointed to himself, then to the one in the passenger seat (clutching the box taken from the store) and the one driving behind the wheel, respectively saying, "I'm Cliff, that's Blaine, and he's Ambrose."

“Nice to meet you," I replied automatically.

Cliff added, “We're triplets."

My response came down to, "I can see that."

"Now it's your turn," Cliff motioned to me. "Do you got a name, or am I gonna have to guess?"

"Donovan," I said. Neither of them seemed dangerous. For some odd reason though, instead of bringing up the obvious about catching Cliff and Blaine committing incest while Ambrose was searching through an adult store, I asked, "Uh...can I ask what you three are doing all the way out here? I thought all the roads were blocked."

"Not the ones leading towards Madison," Cliff mentioned.

"Why'd you have him come with us?" Ambrose sternly asked him mid-driving. "For all we know, he could've been with the raiders, trying to lure us out."

"I'm not, I'm not!" I waved my arms defensively, still gripping my backpack behind me.

"What's in your bag?" Ambrose asked.

I clutched mine, until Cliff reluctantly motioned to his holstered knife, and I reluctantly opened it to reveal the contents. My food, equipment, and the like. The triplet didn't notice the magazines carefully preserved in a plastic bag. However, he did notice something else when I leaned down to set the bag at my feet.

"Check it out," he swiftly reached over to pluck the switchblade from my back pocket. "Donovan here ain't unarmed after all. You use this to hunt?"

"If I find small game, sure," I replied honestly.

Cliff shrugged at my answer, opening and closing the switchblade, then handing the knife back to me for safekeeping, Still, he vigilantly watched me put it back in my jeans' rear pocket.

So did Blaine and Ambrose. The former waited for his twins to talk while the latter scrutinized me. "What are you doing all the way out here?"

"Traveling through, like anyone else," I replied hastily.

His amber eyes dissected me through the rearview mirror, whenever they didn't focus on watching the road ahead of us. "No offense, but you don't seem harmless to me."

I gulped in understanding. "None...None taken."

The driving triplet glanced at the passenger seat. "Blaine?"

"Hey," he answered, "Cliff's the one who suggested it."

"We couldn't just leave him! Food's getting less and less to find, and none of us wanna find out what those raiders wanted to do with us," Cliff pointed out. He smirked lecherously at me. "Besides, if he did wanna kill us, he would've done that instead of watching me suck off Blaine back there."

I tried speaking, "About that—"

"You were sucking Blaine off?" Ambrose groaned. Just as I expected something dramatic or a level of shocked silence, the triplet demanded, "How many times have I told you two not to fuck around when we're outside the walls?"

"We were still keeping guard duty!" Cliff argued, smirking again. "Besides, I'd argue you were just as much having fun in there as any of us would've."

"Speaking of which," Blaine cheerfully investigated the box, "let's see whatcha got!"

I continued sitting in utter silence, watching blankly as Blaine rifled through the box and produced a magazine. A dirty magazine, depicting a manly, bearded bovine in farmer's overalls beginning to strip for whoever held the camera. The crotch barely hid his emerging erection.

Immediately, mine pulsed back to life.

"Ohohohoho, boy! This is fuckin' great!" Blaine cackled, then turned to hand Cliff another magazine as well as a booklet. "Check this out, bro! We hit the jackpot over there!"

"Yeah, you wouldn't believe what else I found in there," Ambrose muttered with a knowing smirk. His eyes didn't leave the road. "Shame we had to leave so soon."

"There's always next time," Blaine mentioned, flipping through his magazine.

"If Dad'll let us go on another long run again," Ambrose replied.

Cliff and I stared in equal lust and shock at what he held in his paws.

A magazine from several months before shit hit the fan. On the front page, a kneeling red fox in his early twenties in a rainbow-striped jockstrap faced the camera, while a burly wolf in his mid-fifties wrapped a muscled arm around his shoulder as he wore a similar-colored jockstrap. Behind them was a white background. The wolf kissed the fox's cheek, and both sported visible erections partially hidden by text: "May-December Romances: How Love Ages Like Wine & How You Can Savor It!"

"Dad's gonna love this!" Cliff blushed, already feverishly flipping through the intact pages. "What else did you get, Ambrose?"

"A few other magazines, some DVDs, an unopened coyote dildo, and some lube."

Blaine showed us three tiny bottles before setting them back inside the box. "Thank God," Cliff groaned. "If I have to use corn syrup one more time, I was gonna drown myself in it!"

"You never complained before, hehe," Blaine said with a wink. One for him and one for me.

Finally, I decided to speak up after Ambrose's earlier comment clicked in. "So, wait...you three are like, all gay? For each other? You're...You're—"

"We're incestuous?" Blaine finished for me. "Fuck yeah, we are!"

"Damn right!" Cliff chimed in.

"Holy shit," I exhaled.

"Got a problem with that?" Ambrose asked as he brought us onto a desolate interstate road leading away from the suburb we were in, nimbly dodging vehicles and debris before slowing down next to another exit, "Because you can always walk back to those raiders if you're gonna give us a lecture."

"Lecture about what?" I said without thinking.

"How much it's 'disgusting' or 'wrong', like it even matters anymore," Blaine suggested rather bluntly. He chuckled lightly though. "Then again, you're not looking at the boner between his legs, Ambrose."

Blushing fiercely yet again, I covered my crotch with my bag. All three black cats laughed in their seats, with Ambrose parking the truck in the middle of the road. There, it idly waited until he calmed down.

"Aww, don't be so modest," Cliff jovially patted my shoulder. "It's cute. You think we're hot. All three of us. It ain't often we get an audience to watch me suck off Blaine."

My folded ears were on fire. The betraying boner tenting through my jeans refused to go down, not as recent images of Blaine's flexing ass and the gurgling noises Cliff made at the adult store stayed fresh in my retinas. I wanted to desperately jerk off. I desperately wanted to die. I doubted any of them would do it for me, but it didn't stop me from reaching for the side door.

Failing to open it the first time, I unlocked it on the second try, but Cliff leaned over to close it shut.

"Now, now, hang on there. We're just fuckin' with you," he reassured me, once again offering an approachable smile. "Where are you off to anyway? Heading north?"

The three felines waited for my answer.

"Yeah."

"Neat, so are we," Cliff said with a wag of his tail. "Where to? Manitowoc? Appleton?"

My half-heated ears twitched. "...Hudson Bay, I think."

"If you're going into Canada, it's best to avoid Northern Michigan then," Blaine explained, "There's not that many raiders or marauders up there, but there's too much dense wilderness and you can easily get lost. There is a settlement at Packer Stadium in Green Bay that's open to some trade, but not much. Avoid Minneapolis at all costs if you don't wanna get 'conscripted' to work for the enclaved city there…"

Cliff chimed in, “If you're desperate, you could try to go to Door County, maybe sneak past Sturgeon Bay and travel all the way up to Washington Island—”

“Though forget about it,” Blaine interrupted. “The residents of Door County are very protective of their borders, very territorial, and don’t even consider taking anyone in unless you got skills they really need. And everyone needs everything nowadays.”

Cliff chimed back in, “Hell, Sturgeon Bay often fights with Packer Stadium over resource-hunting, from what we hear on radio chatter.”

“And don’t even get us started on Madeline Island,” Ambrose mentioned. “Not only are they nuts and shoot anyone on sight, but they—”

“—they’re not all that fond of gay folks like us—me, my bros, and you,” Blaine finished for him. “Long story short: let’s just say they think society’s collapse is a sign from God, and they’ll sooner make a pentagram than let any of us on their island.”

“Right. They’re incredibly dangerous, and we avoid them at all costs. And so should you, if you travel that far north into Upper Michigan.” Ambrose turned to me as he held the keys to the outfitted truck. “We’re going to stop around Wausau for the night, Donovan—was it?” I nodded, less meekly now that the erection went down. “Okay, Donovan, you up for joining us, or going on your way? If you’re going up north, Wausau’s the perfect crossroads. You can go anywhere in the Midwest from there…”

On the one paw, I didn't really know much about Ambrose, Blaine, or Cliff other than they were a pair of triplets who sucked/fucked each other. Brothers who committed real-life incest. For all I knew, they could be psychopaths looking to trick me into a false sense of security, then strike. Then again, I'd be dead twenty different times over by then if that were the case. Plus, Ambrose was right. Wausau would take me anywhere I wanted to go, and traveling there in an outfitted truck was better than a damned bike. Or on foot.

Mulling it over, I didn't need much thought. "Yeah. Yeah, Wausau sounds good to me."

"It's settled then." Ambrose grinned as his brothers cheered, and he restarted the truck.

***

Four and a half hours of driving passed by in the blink of an eye. Before the apocalypse, I never truly appreciated cars, or the distances made with vehicles. I hadn't been in a truck since my transfer from prison to the detention farm. During that, I'd been half-asleep and wondering about the future. With the cat triplets though, I couldn't have been more awake and animated to talk to them. Sometimes, it felt like the Blackout and Collapse never even happened.

As unkempt wilderness and ghost towns dashed by the windows, we got to know each other further. Ambrose, Blaine, and Cliff (short for Clifford, really) Sauveterre were fascinating to talk to during the ride. All three black cats turned twenty-four in February, on Valentine's Day. They had been finishing their sophomore year of university together when the Blackout occurred. Ambrose planned to be an engineer, while both Blaine and Cliff desired to do double majors—Business Management and Architecture. Somehow, they all managed to find time to play for their college's volleyball team.

Neither would discuss in detail where they lived. Not yet at least, but I pieced together that they lived with their father and a large group of people in a settlement. They were a self-sustaining community somewhere up north. Ambrose happened to be the eldest triplet by two minutes with Blaine being the second youngest and Cliff being the third. They lost their adoring mother to a drunk driver during their preteen years.

Also, Mr. Sauveterre was well-aware of their...unique relationship. In fact, he not only encouraged it, but participated in it several months after their eighteenth birthdays.

"W-W-What?" I sputtered, glancing between each of the nonchalant felines.

"Oh yeah, he likes to fuck us from time to time." Cliff shrugged with a smirk. "And are you hiding another boner behind that backpack of yours, Don? Can I call you 'Don'?"

I didn't answer his question, instead squeezing my eyes shut as I gripped my backpack around my crotch area. The boner in my jeans threatened to burst the buttons off. Or perhaps leave a wet spot through the underwear and denim. The idea of these three hot brothers having sex with each other was already making my sheath swell, but the mental image of a rugged survivalist DILF getting to have foursomes with his own sons, the faceless black feline hugging his three sons as they made out and ground their sexy bodies on a bed...I whimpered.

As Blaine let out a hyena-like cackle in the passenger's seat, Cliff leaned forward to whisper, "We told ya, there's no shame here. What? You never pictured father-son stuff before?"

"Well, with twins, who hasn't?" I replied honestly. "But-But I didn't think stuff like that existed in real-life. Between adults, I mean."

"Consenting adults?" Ambrose asked.

During our conversation, the cloudy sky had grown darker, and droplets of water started to fall on the windows.

"Yeah, consenting adults," I echoed his words. "Only times I ever read about stuff like that happening were in horror stories on the news, and in porn videos. Otherwise, everyone acted like it shouldn't exist."

Blaine sighed. "We get it. We thought so too. Before the Blackout, we expected the worst from Dad when he discovered us in bed one morning while visiting home, but he didn't yell at us. He told us he didn't think it was wrong. He was only concerned if Ambrose was pressuring us, or we were pressuring him. You'd really like him; Dad's made sure our settlement's off the grid and doesn't take shit from nobody. He even stood up for us when...when..."

Blaine suddenly fell silent. Uncharacteristically, neither of his brothers were quick to finish his sentence like any of them did beforehand. "When what happened?" I asked them.

The rainfall began to pick up, to the point Ambrose couldn't see outside.

"When we got charged," he said, muttering a curse. Once he set the windshield wipers on, the 'eldest' brother glanced between Cliff, Blaine, me, and then glared towards the road. "When Blaine and Dad and I got charged, I mean."

My ears instantly perked up and my boner went limp again. "Charged with what?"

A sudden flash of light blinded us, followed by two seconds of silence, and the loudest single boom I'd ever heard of in my life. Me and Cliff screamed while Blaine let out a startled yelp, and Ambrose jerked the wheel to the side of the road, hitting the brakes. The skies above us turned daytime into night, with the clear windshield almost useless with how much hard rain pelted the glass.

Ambrose grabbed something I didn't notice until then, a handle for a CB radio. Without turning the truck off, he flicked a switch and the rectangular machine buzzed to life.

"You're calling Dad?" Blaine guffawed.

"We're not too far from Wausau anyway." Ambrose held the handle to his whiskers, clearing his throat and gripping the button down. "S.C. Hub, this is Eldest Son. S.C. Hub, this is Eldest Son, do you copy?" he spoke up. "The storm isn't letting up and it's getting dark soon. We're going straight for the Halfway Safehouse to stay there the night. S.C. Hub, do you copy?"

Several seconds later, a gruff voice answered back, "Loud and clear, Eldest Son. Better go silent. Be safe and get yourselves back here the first thing in the morning."

Ambrose smiled at us, replying, "Roger, S.C. Hub. Over and out."

"Was that your father?" I asked Ambrose, and too an extent, Blaine and Cliff.

"Sure was, and he didn't sound so happy," Cliff mentioned.

"He'll be even more unhappy if we don't get to the safehouse now," Ambrose turned the truck back onto the desolate road. "And Donovan? Unless you wanna bike through this rain or get electrocuted into Kentucky Fried Doberman, I recommend you stay with us."

My hackles rose up from another lightning strike somewhere. "Good idea."

"Aww, don't worry about the thunder," Cliff playfully purred. "We'll keep you safe."

"Shut up," I snarled in annoyance.

He and Blaine laughed, as did Ambrose, who drove onward.

***

After twenty minutes of careful maneuvering, we came to Wausau around dusk. The rain refused to let up anytime soon, while a light fog further obscured the road. Ambrose managed to drive the outfitted truck off the interstate and along a riverfront road. Somewhere in the receding fog, I could catch glimpses of a highway exit leading onto a large bridge. Ambrose went a block further down before finally, he steered the truck into a disused parking garage, parking it around the corner out of sight and pulling out the keys.

"Here we are!" he announced.

I scanned the concrete interior, seeing looted cars and accumulated dead leaves.

"This is the 'Halfway Safehouse'?"

"Nah, this is just where we hide the truck at night," Cliff told me as he opened the side door.

"The real Safehouse is next door," Blaine said, bringing the box of porn magazines, along with his own backpack. "Now c'mon, shitheads. I'm starving!"

"Bastard," Cliff teased.

"Motherfuckers," Ambrose chuckled.

"That's brotherfuckers, dipshit!" Blaine corrected, leading to him and Cliff snickering.

I snarked, "You three are weird..."

"You know it!" all three replied in unison, laughing. I started to laugh as well, dragging my own backpack with me as I followed them to a nearby entrance door.

Connected to the parking garage and standing several stories with boarded up windows that didn't keep out all the fog, the triplets had taken me to a hotel. A luxury hotel, at one point. The short corridor leading from the parking garage led to a spacious lobby full of upturned furniture and unclean floors. However, the hallways and stairwells leading up to the second floor proved to be tidier than expected. Especially when it came to the hotel room the triplets led me inside, a large suite with a living room and bedroom separated by a large bathroom, and a dozen boxes piled in a corner. Outside, the freak thunderstorm fiercely raged on.

It took me quite a while to realize there was electricity until one of the triplets flicked a light switch on.

"Welcome to Casa Del Safehouse, Donovan!" Cliff held his arms out as I absentmindedly set my backpack down. "Make yourself a home and enjoy your stay. Just don't go to the top two levels. That's where it's horribly moldy. And don't use the indoor pool either. It's got mold too."

I stared in shock at the lightbulbs burning from light fixtures in the ceiling.

"How is this possible? I...I thought there wasn't any power anywhere..."

"Hotel's connected to the dam further down the river," Ambrose explained. "We just need to be careful not to turn on all the lights. Don't wanna attract attention."

"That includes the showers too, if you wanna have one," Blaine said, helping Ambrose sift through one of the opened boxes to look at some cans. "We take showers all the time here."

Cliff leaned over to sniff me. "Ugh, and no offense, but you could use one yourself."

"None taken," I laughed, scratching the back of my neck in embarrassment. The thought of removing grime and musky sweat from my body sounded divine. "Do the...Do the other rooms' showers work as well?"

"Aww, you don't wanna join us?" Cliff teased, grinning at my flustered expression again. "Haha, all joke's aside, the stalls are tiny as shit. Not enough for four people, let alone two. So yeah, you can go into any of the rooms on this floor. They're unlocked!"

"Don't take too long!" Blaine called out as I turned to walk out their suite, into the opposite room.

Twenty-four hours prior, I'd been biking on my own from northern Kenosha to southern Milwaukee. Now, I peeled off my jeans, jacket, shirt, and underwear to step inside a working shower stall, practically screaming with delight at feeling hot water cascade down my back. It caused all my body fur to stand up and my toes to curl against the tiled grout, like I was experiencing ecstasy. I did in a sense. It had been too long since I'd held soap and shampoo.

Nothing felt greater than walking out of a shower, feeling like a blanket of muck and dirt had been washed down the drain. Looking in the cloudy mirror, I almost didn't recognize the face staring back at me. A Doberman just shy of twenty-one, almost old enough to drink alcohol if society still cared. Bags formed under my rusty-blue eyes, which examined my vulnerable body; the specks of gray fur already forming under my chin, the curls of washed headfur no longer matted in disgusting clumps, my brown and black fur literally shining from the glow of dusty light fixtures. What caught my attention the most though was how my ribcage visibly stood out underneath my taut layer of black stomach fur. Not to forget, the low-hanging scrotum attached to my bulbous sheath, the cock already peeking out.

Thinking back to the triplets started to make me hard again. I considered sitting down on the porcelain toilet nearby and jerking off to the taboo thoughts I'd imagined earlier. Yet I also didn't want to take another longer shower to clean myself up afterward. It wasn't like I could just ask for extra towels from staff downstairs.

I could always ask Ambrose, Blaine, or Cliff if they had any extras.

Groaning, I instead used the single towel on the counter and waltzed into the room...only to find my clothes nowhere in sight. Panic almost struck me like a runaway train until I spotted a pile of clothes on the corner desk, along with a handwritten note.

Hey Donovan!

Hope you don't mind, but we're gonna use the laundry room downstairs to wash our stuff, and thought you'd like that too. If these clothes don't fit, don't wait to ask you to get you another pair. We got plenty of them for emergencies!

Meet us downstairs in the lobby when you're ready.

-Cliff

What did those black cats see in me, anyway? If they knew the truth, they would drive off the minute I fell asleep. Like one of my old groups did when I told them why I went to jail.

Surprisingly, the clothes Cliff had given me fit my body type very well. A pair of black sweatpants, some blue boxers, and a brown plaid shirt that enveloped my upper half, but I made it work. Plus, some socks that didn't hug my toes too closely.

Once I slipped my shoes back on and tentatively walked downstairs into the empty lobby, I waited. Though not for long. Just as my hip started leaning against the musty reception desk adjacent to the hotel's blocked revolving door, one of the triplets shuffled over with half a dozen metal cans cradled in his arms.

"Heya!" He waved a paw without dropping them. "It's Blaine. Mind taking some?"

"Oh! Yeah, sure."

I stepped up and relieved three cans from the black cat, following him down a corridor leading away from the lobby. Upon closer inspection and a subtle sniff, I felt my stomach growl at the smell of corn, beans, mushrooms, and at least one helping of canned carrots.

Another growl rumbled from my belly, and I laughed in embarrassment. Blaine shared my laughter when his stomach complained too.

"We're cooking all of this?" I asked in astonishment.

"Yeah, but to be fair, it's been a while since we've had another mouth to feed."

Blaine led me into what I presumed to be the hotel kitchen, lit up and impeccably clean. In the cleaned portion of the room, Cliff and Ambrose were already igniting the stovetops and setting cooking pots.

“Care to help out?" he asked.

I beamed. "Absolutely!"

***

For the life of me, I couldn't recall the last time I'd cooked a proper meal or had fun while doing it. Let alone with other people. The triplets and I cooked, grilled, jested, and enjoyed each other's company as we made a helping for each of us. By the time we readied our plates together and sat down at a table Ambrose had dragged into the kitchen, our mouths watered at the smells.

Grilled mushrooms and black beans with steamed carrots, boiled corn, plus diced up chunks of cooked spam I volunteered from my backpack. All with a splattering of salt and pepper mixed in to make it a well-made dinner. One for the ages, in my opinion.

Sounds of clinking dinner utensils and sipping bottles of water filled the once-bustling hotel kitchen. So did our chewing. Distracted we were from having a great meal in a long time that we didn't really talk to each other. At least, not until something crossed my mind.

"So, what did Ambrose and Blaine get charged with, anyway?" I asked them, taking a wild guess. "Committing incest?"

"Committing incest." Ambrose nodded, along with Blaine and Cliff, whose ears were folded downward in shame as they ate. "It happened a couple months before the Blackout and Collapse. There was this classmate that Cliff was dating who found out about us, and he..."

"He tried blackmailing me with it to stay exclusive with him," Cliff explained further. A look of pained regret filled his eyes. Looking down at his plate, he finished off the final portion of carrots. "I called his bluff, but Ross followed through with his threat, and I woke up one morning to find police at our door. That's when they took my brothers and Dad away from me...all because I didn't take his threat seriously..."

"It wasn't your fault, Clifford," Ambrose stressed with a stern voice.

"It never was, Cliff." Blaine hugged his brother with one arm, caressing the shoulder. "So, the cops had a warrant to search our phones too. They had enough evidence to put us and Dad in the county jail, interviewing Cliff like they thought he was a victim. Like we'd been raping him. When really, he was as much a part of this!"

Blaine and Cliff emitted low growls from the back of their throats. The frustration they felt vibrated through the air like electricity, and I felt it from across the table we sat against.

"Anyway, to make a long story short," Ambrose finished, "we stayed in separate cells for a couple days until one of Dad's best friends got us out on bail. Part of the conditions for our release was that we couldn't be in contact with one another. That's when society decided to punish us for being in love. We all got expelled from college, kicked out of our dorm, our classmates refused to speak with us, and Dad even got fired from his job after the news broke out. Cliff had to hop between couches until our court date. Then came the court date a day after the Blackout happened, and we still went to the courthouse despite power being out, only to find it shut down and people already looting. That was when we finally dropped everything and got off the grid. Left everything behind for good..."

"Never looked back," Blaine confirmed.

"Never ever," Cliff confirmed too, a bright smile under his whiskers.

All three of the triplets had scooted together, their tails intertwining together beneath the glass table, their tips sometimes brushing against my legs. They really did love each other.

"What about you?" Ambrose pondered. "You said you went to a farm?"

"A prison farm," I answered following a moment of deep thought. "For juveniles."

That managed to catch their attention. Expressions of uncertainty and fear crossed their muzzles, as expected. Likely, they'd ask me to leave the hotel soon enough. Staring down at the last morsel on my plate, I used my spoon to carve up the last bits of corn, then popped then into my maw. It tasted warm and well-cooked and amazing. Much better then directly from a can.

"What'd you do, kill a man?" Cliff asked out of the blue.

"Clifford!" Ambrose scolded his brother.

"You had to ask that aloud, Cliff?" Blaine groaned. "It's a little on the nose—"

"What? It's reasonable to ask!" the youngest sibling tried arguing.

"I kind of almost did." Once again, they went silent. Without staring up at either triplet, not wanting to see the fear or hatred in their beautiful amber eyes, I drawled out, "Long story short? Far as I know, my own sperm donors didn't want me. Neither did my foster folks. They looked for any...any reason to blame me for something. One day...they decided to go through my room while I went to school."

Clearing my throat, then peeking up at each of the whiskered faces listening, I sighed.

"Martin and Martha found a magazine under my bed, like the ones you found at the store. Martin dragged me into the kitchen the moment I walked inside, and Martha wouldn't stop slapping me until I slapped her back." Regret filled my muzzle's features. "There was a steak knife on the counter—I wanted 'em to stop hitting me—and I grabbed it when he tried strangling me. I slashed an arm, then his shoulder, and he started to...to bleed out. His wife called 911 after running outta the room, and I did too. By the time police caught me, Martin was already in an ambulance, but they...those bastards reworked it to sound like I attacked them."

The trio all stared in disbelief. Disgust, horror, anger, and regret filled their facial expressions. Not at me, but the bastards who I hoped to never encounter again. I sometimes pictured in my head, and ashamedly hoped, that neither Martin nor Martha survived the first harsh winter after the Blackout.

"They sent me to juvenile detention, then a prison farm in the Midwest," I finished my tale. "Once the Blackout started, the other inmates saw an opportunity, we escaped, and I've been bouncing from state to state ever since. Do you...still wanna let me hang with you?"

All three black-furred felines gave me matching grimaces. "What kind of question is that?" they synchronized in confused unison.

"What happened to you was horrible!" Blaine hissed, his right-hand claws scratching the table.

"Those fuckers better hope we never run into them," Cliff snarled incredulously.

"We're sorry that you went through all of that," Ambrose told me as he wore a sympathetic frown. "It's terrible you got singled out and had to pay the price for simply defending yourself...it's awful."

Stunned by their outbursts and kind words, I could only say, "Thank you," and, "I'm sorry you got screwed over by the justice system too. What happened to us...it sucked."

To my inner surprise, Cliff didn't take the chance to quip 'and not in the good way'.

Ambrose let out a sigh. "Before the end of the world, we were outcasts. That's what makes me and my bros feel so free once society fell apart. No more society meant no more rules, no more laws against harmless taboos, and nobody to stop us from loving each other. No judges to tell us we're perverts that need to be locked up, or classmates calling us freaks..."

"Dad's the same way," Blaine added in. "When he lost his job due to the court case, nobody would try to hire him. They were treating us like criminals for keeping to ourselves, but now that there's no civilization to enforce their rules, we're..."

"Finally free," Cliff completed his brothers' last train of thought. "It's like a second chance for all of us."

The three brothers shared a chuckle I didn't understand. However, I was preoccupied in my own head. During our shared meal together, a big decision had been building up in my mind. After thinking it over and listening to their speech, I made my choice. I wanted to ask them an important question. Probably one of the most important questions I could ask in recent days.

"You know what, can I be honest?" I couldn't help myself from smiling at the three cats and held out my paws to hold theirs. "You guys are amazing. Ever since I first met you three today, I've been...a tad jealous about your confidence. You're unapologetic about being yourselves, don't take shit from no one, not me or anybody I bet we'll meet," Cliff, Ambrose, and Blaine exchanged knowing smirks between themselves and I, "and if you're up for it...I think I'd like to join you three at this settlement."

Silence filled the kitchen. It enveloped our table like the rainy fog still happening outdoors.

"If...If you'll let me?" I quickly added.

At that point in our conversation, it shouldn't have been much of a pleasant surprise when they glanced at each other, the triplets mentally thinking it over for three or four seconds. Plenty of time to think it over. In the end, Ambrose left the room to ask Mr. Sauveterre on the radio.

***

"You're sleeping across from us then?" Blaine asked me sometime later.

"Uh, yeah," I confirmed. "Yeah, I guess."

We were in the second-story corridor, having just cleaned up after ourselves in the kitchen. Afterwards, the four of us did perimeter checks around the Halfway Safehouse to make sure nobody could sneak inside the hotel. Not through the garage entrance, the front entrance, the back entrance, emergency exits, etc. We also needed to turn off lights that might be visible from the street. By the time we were finished, the rainstorm had stopped, but the fog remained.

Before we went upstairs, Ambrose contacted his father through a private channel on the truck's radio. Something they only saved for important updates or emergencies. I talked to Mr. Sauveterre on the radio, giving him my name, what I did before everything went to hell, including why I lived where I lived, as well as what I did to survive or what skills I could provide. The triplets' father didn't sound disturbed by my retelling of how I ended up on a prison farm. Though he did give my condolences for having a rough, lonely upbringing, something he mentioned having gone through as well.

Throughout the interview, his husky yet low and gruff voice echoed from the radio like a drum. I imagined the elder cat narrowing his steely eyes at me with each reply I provided, but in the end, he said I was welcomed to enter his settlement.

The kicker? It was named 'Second Chances'. The survival town of Second Chances.

By the end of the interview, we all wished him a good night's sleep, and promised to return the next morning.

"Good night then," Ambrose went inside his room, as did Blaine, who smiled at me.

"Uh...have a good night then," Cliff said, awkwardly giving me a half-wave from underneath the doorframe. Behind him, I could spot his brothers kissing. "Sleep well."

Meekly, I half-waved back to the feline. "Same to you."

"Bye."

"Bye."

My body anxiously turned to enter the empty hotel room across from theirs, and I closed mine shut seconds after Cliff did. Together, we locked the doors with an audible click. Couldn't be too careful, not even in the Safehouse. Then, I crawled onto the unused blankets on the king-sized bed and closed my eyes. For once, I didn't feel a sense of dread or fear about having my backpack close by, or wondered if my bike would still be where I put it in the morning. Between me and the lawless outside world stood a wall alongside a two-story drop.

My tail stilled and ears twitched against the soft pillows.

I tried relaxing my body on an actual mattress for the first time in years.

Heavy emphasis on the word 'tried'.

My body refused to fall asleep. The least of which, a certain appendage between my legs, which pulsed to throbbing life the minute my ears caught sounds coming from across the hallway. Not the sounds of someone breaking in though. It came from the room opposite mine, where the triplets were supposed to be sleeping. They weren't snoring though. Far from it.

At first, I only picked up shuffling noises. They were either uncaring or deliberately loud enough to pierce the walls. Then, I could distinctly hear intense moaning, as well as three pairs of deep purring. They resonated through the wooden barriers and plaster, straight into my ears. Next, the moans and purrs grew louder, mixing until a loud thud could be heard. Laughter erupted, then returned into purring and lustful groans.

My erection would not go down. Not when I recalled the events of the previous twelve hours. The image of Blaine's bare ass that flexed with each thrust inside Cliff's willing maw. Or the way I spotted Ambrose and Blaine kissing like old lovers minutes earlier. Hearing what went on in the other room, I hastily undressed myself, kicked my jeans and underwear off the bed as I firmly grasped my cock. A repressed shudder escaped my throat, and I started stroking myself to the sounds of the triplets having sex...

...only to stop. Clarity on the situation struck me hard. "What am I doing here?"

Begrudgingly and yet excitedly leaping off the bed, I walked out into the corridor without my pants or underwear on. Only my shirt remained, my erection tenting obscenely against the hem. Without waiting, I knocked three times on the door.

The noise inside cut off into hushed whispers, then excited giggling before finally, the wooden barrier opened to reveal Ambrose in all his naked glory. An annoyed frown surveyed me, then grew into a wide smirk directed down at me. Particularly, my hardon tented at his own big, black, barbed cock.

"About damn time you decided to join us," the feline purred. "Cliff was wondering if he was too subtle earlier, and we didn't wanna pressure you."

"I was being polite," I bashfully replied, scratching behind my neck. "Then I realized you could've kept your racket down if you really wanted me not join you guys."

Blaine and Cliff coincidentally peeked around the corner of the master bedroom's wall, their faces lighting up at the sight of me. When I glanced back to Ambrose, the eldest triplet shortly chuckled, then motioned for me to come in. I gladly accepted the invitation.

Exiting the half-lit corridor, Ambrose shut the door behind us, and I was plunged into darkness. My eyes adjusted quickly to catch all three brothers circle me.

Three individual purring noises vibrated against my body, as one. Ambrose's tongue expertly slithered past my lips, causing a deep moan to reverberate against his. He pressed further and I pressed back, tasting the eldest triplet.

Sex wasn't something new to me. The new me, sure, but not the old me, from before the Blackout and before I was sent north to the farm. Being a delinquent and a teenager left me desperate to get my rocks off however I could. One such way involved a wolf around my age from another school, who met me by chance during one of my many nights disregarding curfew. We'd both tried sneaking into a nightclub, only to find ourselves fucking each other's daylights in an adjacent alleyway minutes later. The final time we met was a couple nights before the cops arrested me for attempted murder. I never even learned his name, let alone remembered his face.

I hoped he survived, like I did. Like Ambrose, Blaine, and Cliff did.

Speaking of the former, he tasted exactly as I expected: masculine, sweet, and somehow hygienic, with the hint of toothpaste in his addictive saliva. When our lips parted and I felt a bridge of spit connecting us, it collapsed when I gasped at feeling Ambrose give my member a squeeze, Ambrose reaching down to lift my shirt to toss it aside, then feel Blaine turn my head rightward. Soon enough I kissed him next, followed by a jealous Cliff when he turned my head left. We nipped at each other's heated ears whenever we could too.

Then, still purring vibrantly against my body, we exchanged kisses all over again in a cycle, the other two brothers kissing each other before switching. Tasting extremely similar, the triplets each kissed differently though. Ambrose was more dominant while Blaine and Cliff were more passionate, with the latter often biting my lower lip in a mischievous, submissive manner.

I couldn't get enough of them. Purring surrounded me as the triplets tugged me to the master bedroom, their tails wrapping around us as my fingers indecisively switched between fondling their chests, beautiful asses, and their throbbing cocks that pressed against my upper thighs and rear. Three pairs of arms and paws teased me or groped me all over until we made it to the bed, their scents bathing the soft sheets against my ass cheeks as I leaned against the foot of the frame.

All three black cats went to their knees in planned succession. Before a question could even escape my lips, they went on the attack. Not that I complained. Not when Blaine gave a long lick to the underside of my erection--balls to tip--while his brothers kissed, then suckled each side of my shaft. All three lapped greedily at every inch of my dick, flashing their feline eyes up at me to marvel at my lustful moans. When Blaine was the first to sink his mouth down on my erection, my cry turned into rapturous pleasure once I felt two of the triplets grasp my clenched cheeks, the final one (I presumed to be either Ambrose or Cliff, I couldn't tell) started probing my puckered asshole with two wet fingers. Letting my resistant anal ring surrender to them, I unknowingly thrust my cock back and forth into Blaine's welcoming, warm maw, his tongue licking my underside with each bobbing motion he made.

"Minh! Oh, fuck!" I whined in canid need. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, that's...ahhhhh!"

I hung my head back when Blaine started to tongue my sheath. His wet appendage expertly curved and curled within the musky flesh. It felt rough at first, but the sensitivity turned to pleasure as he began to orally pry between my knot and the tight confines between. I couldn't get enough of him, or his brothers. God, I never imagined such debauchery ever happening! Not only was I getting the most amazing blowjob of my life, but with the help of three identical triplets just as handsome as they were kind.

Previously arching my head back, I glanced down to see Blaine bobbing his head with a wink, as Cliff and Ambrose shared another prolonged kiss. Once again, I couldn't help myself from staring, fascinated at the romantic display.

Far beyond brotherly. Potent saliva and dancing tongues against entangled whiskers. Then, Ambrose murmured something to soft for me to hear, and pecked the youngest triplet one more time before standing beside me, erection pressed to my leg lane smearing pre along my thigh. With Blaine still slurping my cock and Cliff returning to give my balls a thorough lick, I froze at suddenly feeling Ambrose's fingers roam my back. It shivered at his dominant touch.

"Don't forget to share, B."

An eager mouth reluctantly parted from my lips, while another one replaced it easily. I trembled from the way coarse licks trailed along my inner thigh again. Meanwhile, Ambrose took the opportunity to wrap his arms around my chest. He pinched one pert nipple and the other, his fingernails extending into claws without being close to breaking the skin.

"Ahh, ahhh, nnngh!"

"Glad my bros didn't decide to shoot you back in Milwaukee," Ambrose said to me.

I released a chuckling moan. "Me-Me too...Mmmnh!"

A cup of pleasure and an ounce of pain. Both Blaine and Cliff switched their oral treatments as their eldest brother gave a sudden love bite to the crook between my neck and left shoulder. His fondling fingers trailed down my chest along with his tongue down my spine. I shivered uncontrollably, legs nearly buckling from pleasures I never thought I could fathom, let alone experience after the apocalypse.

Ambrose left a wet trail of kisses and saliva down my back, his fingers pausing to scratch behind the ears of his well-enthusiastic brothers before reaching behind to grab my flutes. He squeezed my ass one more time before spreading it apart and burying his dexterous tongue into my virgin pucker.

Tail wagging furiously at the cat's forehead, I didn't expect to be spread wide open. I let out a deep, deep growl. "Sweet Jesus!" My ass clenched around Ambrose's lathering tongue.

"Don't you know it's bad to take the Lord's name in vain, Donnie?" Cliff jested between prolonged nuzzling against by sheath. "Hehehe."

Jesus. Sweet Jesus. Sweet Fucking Jesus on a mile-long dildo! God, if I had known that getting a sloppy rim job would be this memorable, I would've asked for it earlier before the prison farm. Ambrose wouldn't let up on my ass, his tongue stretching the tight ring beneath my tail until I felt myself grow closer and closer.

"Says the brat who's sucking off another dude, with his three bros?" I commented back, voice panting and quavering. "If that's not damnation for us, I don't know what is, haha."

Blaine let go of sucking my cock for a split second to say, "True that," and returned to swallowing my length.

Ambrose slapped my ass with his right palm, making me yelp and laugh with the feline as he devoured my tailhole. Perfect timing too, as I felt my cock twitch and begin to throb along with my aching balls. "Mmnh, ahh, I'm...I'm getting—I'm cu—Auuggghhhh!"

Over four years since I last ejaculated into another boy's maw. Nearly half a decade since I enjoyed being in the presence of another naked male, enjoying the afterglow and the sensation of being completely spent. Well, almost completely spent. Whether it be the fact I had three sexual partners as opposed to one, or that it was something in Blaine and Cliff's talented lips, diligently lapping up every drop of seed they couldn't swallow from my crotch, I got hard again. Very hard again. What especially helped send a jolt of sexual electricity up my hardening cock again was when Ambrose pulled his tongue away from my tailhole to give a strong bite to my left butt cheek.

Growling in surprise, it stung like a bitch, yet it caused my erection to return as quickly as it left. "Ow! Easy there..."

"Awww, let me kiss it better," he murmured before placing his open tongue to the 'wound', soaking the fur around it. "Mmm, now then. You ready to take this to the bed, bros? How about you, Donovan?"

"Mmm, hell yeah!"

Blaine and Cliff giggled as they stood up, planting kisses on both my cheeks before beginning to make out with each other. My post-nutting dick couldn't be any harder, I thought. That opinion changed when I watched them walk around me and crawl onto the bed. Then, Ambrose stood behind me and pressed his hardness against my ass crack, coaxing me to follow them with him crawling close behind. I nudged myself closer to the younger two triplets, not only admiring Blaine's spread ass as he held Cliff in missionary style, but how sexy they looked together. Two identical felines locked in a kiss as the top positioned his cock with the bottom, and I started to do the same to Blaine's lubed rear end. Apparently, Cliff had been preparing his brother while keeping me occupied with amazing oral sex.

I shifted closer until my shaft kissed his wet and prepared hole, tail raised and swaying as I gripped Blaine's right flank and groped Cliff's left beneath the former. Ambrose looked behind me like a tall shadow. His bare abdomen pressed to my lower back along with his barbed cock, which left a trail of sticky pre that lined up with the area beneath my tail. I let out a whimper. A needy and slightly intimidated whimper, one which I didn't know I could ever produce again.

"You nervous?" Ambrose asked, and I nodded, then felt him lick along my neck in deep affection. "Mmm. Don't be. I'll be gentle if you're gentle too."

"With them?"

My eyes traveled to Blaine, already thrusting his cockhead inside of Cliff, muffling his cries with pressed lips. The eldest brother slowly began to slam his identical counterpart harder, tail thrashing high and bottom flexing with the sounds of their gasps and squelching movements, Cliff's legs wrapped around Blaine's lower back to give easier access.

Gulping hungrily again at the incestuous sight before me, I uttered, "Fuck..."

"Indeed."

Ambrose laughed behind me, and lined up his dick with my tailhole, just as I did the same to Blaine, his paws kneading on my hips and mine on Blaine's. Together, we inhaled and exhaled before slowly applying pressure. As Blaine paused his gyrations to push back on my marble-hard dick, bliss arrived seconds later with an audible pop. We slipped in all at once.

I moaned like a virgin with gritted teeth. "Fuuuuuuuck, woah!"

Ambrose's arms cradled my stomach, and his whiskers tickled the back of my neck, every hair on his body standing up along with mine as several inches soon buried themselves inside of me. Just as my several inches buried deep within Blaine, and he didn't wait long to clench his ass around my shaft, then resume his rhythmic thrusts inside of Cliff, thus compelling me to thrust forward as well, along with Ambrose behind us. Everyone tensed up in delighted delirium.

"Ahhhh!"

"Mmmnh, that's tight..."

"Holy shit, you're thick..."

"Heh, I'm so jealous of you guys. Next time, I wanna get dicked by Donnie."

Me, Ambrose and Blaine chuckled at Cliff's words. For several seconds, we gave each other time to adjust, murmuring sweet nothings between the four of us.

"You okay, Donovan?" Ambrose queried into my neck. "How about you Blaine? Clifford?"

"I'm..." I gulped down a grunt of discomfort. "It's so full, and there's a little pain...but in a good way. Yeah...Yeah, I'm good."

"Same," Blaine purred against my chest.

"Same," Cliff purred too.

Any thoughts about taboos melted away from my head as I bucked forward and backwards.

The initial pain didn't last very long. Thanks to Ambrose orally stretching my backside earlier and his gentle pushes filling me up, and me providing the same to Blaine, any sharp jolts turned into smooth waves of ecstatic bliss. The duel pleasure on my cock and in my stretched tailhole felt even better than I ever imagined.

We rocked back-and-forth for what felt like hours. Ambrose's purrs vibrated into my spine as he nuzzled behind my sweating neck, occasionally hissing like water on a stove while leaving bite marks that chorused my whines. Each solid movement of his hips inside of me made me see twinkling stars. The faster he went, the faster I went inside of Blaine, whose combined purring and addictive moans were music to my ears, to my bulbous knot, and the noises we produced created a drooling, lusting orchestra.

All of it climbed higher and higher and higher until my entire body could not take it anymore. The foursome I found myself in was too much too soon. Waves of pleasure crashed over me and into me. I groped onto one of Blaine's muscular globes and blindly reached down to do the same for one of Cliff's, my wrist brushing against the former's balls as they slapped against his brother's taint. It made me even more vigorous in my fucking.

Harder, harder, harder! My obsidian dick slammed in and out of Blaine, then furiously convulsed after one final movement.

Finally, my knot slipped inside of him. Growling, I leaned down to bite on the scruff of his sweaty, heated neck. Blaine broke his kiss with Cliff to let out a sudden yelp, while Ambrose gripped me to his chest as he utterly railed my prostate.

An endless jet of steaming cum gushed within the middle triplet's velvet passage. Yet it somehow continued to clench tightly around my shaft.

Once again, I saw twinkling stars. They burned brighter until I emptied the last of my seed, burying it deep in Blaine, and I let go of his neck to pant uncontrollably. Almost like a man trapped at sea, with no freshwater to drink. Or perhaps somebody living in what used to be the American Southwest, a desert stretching from radioactive Los Angeles to Oklahoma. Either way, the next thing I remembered hearing were Blaine and Cliff and Ambrose's cries, and the sensation of something warm flooding my insides. I felt very full.

Afterwards, came blissful sleep.

***

Like every morning since the apocalypse began, I woke up to an unfamiliar ceiling, in a house or building I didn't own. One such morning, I woke up on the second story suite of an abandoned hotel, my face buried in a black cat's strong chest that rose and fell, two other identical cats lying next to us with their arms blissfully wrapped around our midriffs. The smell of dried cum, dried sweat, and musky scents mixed, flooding our noses.

Despite being the first to wake up, I dared not move a muscle. Not only due to the combined weight of two out of three muscular cats encompassing me, but because I felt so damn comfortable. Their soft breathing and relaxed purrs lulled me to sleep once, twice, thrice, and eventually a fourth time until I could see sunlight peeking through the closed window blinds.

By then, Cliff was the first to stir from his slumber, followed by Ambrose and finally Blaine. All of us struggled to sit up due to the soreness in our bones. Luckily, the prospect of having a hot shower (and possibly more, hehe) motivated us.

For the rest of the early morning, we prepared to leave. The realities of being in a hostile environment settled right back in for me, seemingly affecting the triplets as well. Granted, they were each quick to plant a kiss on my cheeks whenever they could, making me blush and causing them to giggle at my reactions, but it didn't take much for us all to remember that the world outside the abandoned hotel wasn't as safe. It wasn't easy to ignore the resounding silence outside or the water damage in the corner of the room. It felt strange, falling asleep the previous night and forgetting that we lived in a post-apocalyptic landscape filled with severe weather.

After waking up with dried sweat and crusty cum all over us, Ambrose replaced the bedsheets and had all four of us take shared showers. No frisky sex allowed though, according to him. A strong suggestion, more likely. However, that didn't stop me and Cliff from groping each other a few times as we shared a shower stall in the opposite suite bathroom.

There I was, half-awkwardly yet eagerly letting Cliff wash my back for me when the youngest cat triplet decided to press his chest to my back and mouthed my neck. Even tweaked a nipple and cupped my balls to surprise me.

Pressing one paw to the tiled wall and using the other to reach down for his, I felt myself grow instantly hard. "Ahh!" I let out a Doberman's lustful growl, huffing. "Wha-What're you—"

"Mmm, want me to stop?" he asked between firm strokes of my shaft.

"Nmfh, n-never," I replied the moment after he asked that question. "D-Don't stop. Oh, fuck, just like that, Cliff!"

His fingers were rapid compared to the previous night. They didn't tease or prolong my pleasure, instead jogging me straight there. They wanted my dogcock to feel how experienced in sex they truly were and succeeded.

Hot blood surged into my cheeks and folded ears. My tail tapped incessantly against his stomach. His cock brushed itself along the cleft of my ass, barbed tip kissing my taint and loud purrs vibrating into my trembling shoulders as water cascaded around us. Turning around to lick his jugular and then kiss it repeatedly when he arched his head back, fingers still stroking the entirety of my length, Cliff purred even louder.

He went on and on until it echoed louder than the Halfway Safehouse's hissing water pressure. Then, we started sharing deep, intense kisses that only broke when I felt him ejaculate into a shuddering mess, leaning against me while staining my inner thighs. Seconds later, and I leaned against Cliff too, almost blacking out midway through cumming all over the wall.

"Haha...wow...I hope it doesn't ruin the grout."

I let out a panting laugh. "Don't think we're the first or last."

"More people...go...through here?" I asked, trying to catch my breath.

"Sure do," he let out a satisfied purr. "Not only...me and Blaine...and Ambrose. Others from our settlement...pass by here...Allies too..."

My tongue lolled out at my last word. Giggling at the sight, Cliff lifted his paw covered in some of my semen, avoiding the showerhead's torrent of warm water as he licked it up. I blinked, only to chuckle as well. He looked like a feral cat enjoying some cream.

"Alright, as much as I enjoyed that too," he said, "we better get cleaned up."

I snarked, "Again."

***

We left Wausau a little over an hour later. We also spent twice as long navigating the roads and rough terrain up North. Before leaving the Halfway Safehouse, we'd replaced the bed sheets, gathered a gallon of gasoline to fill into the outfitted truck, then drove to our next destination.

Even before the Blackout, there existed ghost towns aplenty. In some regions, the younger generation would leave a hamlet or small town in the middle of nowhere to find greener pastures, often leaving the elderly as the only residents willing to stay. In some cases, it would only consist of a town hall that also served as either the fire department or the K-12 school in the county. By the time the aged residents all died out, nobody would want to stay behind to maintain the infrastructure. It left nature to reclaim everything.

Driving in the backseat with Cliff, Ambrose in the passenger seat and Blaine volunteering to drive the rest of the way, I witnessed many of these towns. I wondered how many were filled with citizens unwilling to leave, content and happy. I could imagine the Amish barely noticing.

"We don't try to search for them, but they're there," Blaine told me at one point. "We already told you about the settlements we've encountered, but there's a lot of people up here who were already making do before the end. I think there's one old lady and her husband near our settlement, in a farmhouse they almost never leave."

Ambrose nodded. "Last time I saw Mr. and Mrs. Wadewitz was in Spring when Dad asked me to trade with them. Nice couple. Makes you wonder how they lived before the apocalypse."

"And nobody bothers them?" I wondered aloud.

"Nah, they keep low, and besides, there's not that many people up there."

"Ah," I exhaled, nodding.

Neglected highways transitioned into neglected roads, leading to fallen trees or branches to be moved or avoided. The asphalt became gravel at some point, until it felt like the forest itself was swallowing the truck's path. It wound back and forth through a maze until finally, we stopped in front of a giant metal gate, somewhere between ten and fifteen feet high, with barbed wiring and aged signs warning trespassers about the consequences.

Without a beat, Ambrose muttered into the radio, "S.C. Hub, this is Eldest Son. Do you copy? Shuttle had landed. I repeat, the Space Shuttle has landed."

Several seconds passed until a loud beep came from the gate, and it slid left to allow our truck entry. The gruff, deep voice I recognized from the previous day replied, "Welcome back, Eldest Son. Drop off the goods, then send our...new friend upstairs. I'd like a word."

I gulped, and Ambrose ignored his brothers' chuckling to say, "Roger that. Over and out." The truck lurched forward past the closing gate and over a small hill. "Don't worry. He'll just ask you further questions. Just be honest and you'll have nothing to worry about."

Almost making a dry remark, my words fell silent when we rolled over the mound, and I gasped at the sight outside the window. Past a crescent-shaped clearing, I saw it. Ahead of us, nestled against a wide mountain and behind several wooden watch towers were dozens of closely built woodland cabins. Some were small, others as big as suburban homes, but almost all of them appeared to be built by paw. What captivated me the most though, as we drove past the watch towers (did Blaine wave to somebody?) was the fact I saw people. I saw mammals such as canines, felines, a few ursine, and otters. All of them appeared healthy, dressed in clean clothing, plenty of them handstitched, and they walked freely without caution in their stances. I could swear I even spotted what appeared to be a group of fox cubs peering out from a cabin window. All of them waved at the driver, who casually parked it outside a row of garages with other outfitted trucks.

"Donovan," Blaine spoke up. "Welcome—"

"Welcome to our home," Cliff interrupted, giving a cheeky grin to his annoyed brother.

Ambrose chuckled, saying, "Welcome to the town of Second Chances."

Humid air struck like a tsunami wave as we stepped outside the truck. It made my clothes cling to my body, and I started panting. A quick glance at the triplets told me they'd felt it too. Without clouds, it felt like the Sun itself was weighing everyone down.

"Please tell me this place has air conditioning?" I dared ask.

"The Hub does!" Cliff mentioned.

I let out a thankful whine.

"Damn!" Ambrose stared up at the clear-blue sky. "Storm must be on its way."

I blocked the sunlight blinding my vision. "Tonight, or tomorrow?"

"Dunno," Blaine nodded. "Anyway, we better get you right to the Hub."

"Can't forget the cargo, bro!" Cliff chirped out.

The youngest triplet referred to the secured bins in the truck's tailgate. The triplets held a few games of rock-paper-scissors, and it was decided Blaine would bring me to the 'Hub' to visit their father while Cliff and Ambrose dropped off the gathered supplies at the town's marketplace.

Besides an outsider (aka me), Blaine also brought the cardboard box of sex toys and dirty magazines they'd pilfered from the adult store. As we walked down what appeared to be a long boulevard of cabins facing each other, I quickly noticed some eyes directed at us. No, at me. A few mammals passing by nodded to Blaine, even waving, but they immediately stared at me with suspicion.

"Don't worry about it," he told me. "Give them a day, and they'll all warm up to you."

"I guess." A stray thought suddenly turned into a curious question. "So do they all like...know about you and your brothers? And you and your dad?"

"Pretty much." Blaine gave a shrug, using it to get a better grip on the box he carried. "So long as we don't do PDA or make anyone uncomfortable with the details, nobody cares. Hell, I can name a few other residents that toe the line with taboo too, hehe."

I raised an astonished eyebrow at him. "Really?"

Giving a wry grin, he murmured, "Without naming names, Second Chances has a pair of cat triplets who occasionally diddle their dad, also a brother bear and sister bear who are on and off whenever they're not fighting like regular siblings, a pair of kissing deer cousins, and a coyote who likes to sleep with his uncle. All consenting adults like us. They all keep to themselves about it though. One thing we all openly agreed on was not to inbreed."

Minutes later, we arrived at a larger three-story cabin that stretched to the size of half a football field. Inside an adjoined kitchen/living room area on the ground floor were occupied workstations in one corner, a massive map of Midwestern America with tacks on the wall, and a large desk with electronics in the other corner. Including an unoccupied chair with a large radio that played static at the moment.

"Welcome to the Hub. Think of it like Second Chances' town hall."

Blaine led me past a gathering of tables filled with busy mammals. A few stared at me or didn't care, while one or two jovially greeted Blaine, who continued guiding me to the back and up a wooden staircase to an upper loft.

Approaching a closed door, I knocked on the window pane.

"Dad?" he called out. "You in there?"

That same voice I heard on the radio spoke up. "Come on in, Cliff!"

How can he tell it's Cliff and not the other two? I thought amusedly.

I followed the smiling triplet inside to find myself teleported into a relatively large office with a window looking out towards the surrounding buildings, watch towers, and the clearing beyond. Photos, maps, and shelves with hundreds of books lined the wall, while a simple desk rested in the center of the room.

A tall figure stood up from behind the desk, an older black cat wearing faded blue jeans and a black flannel shirt one size too big for him. At one point, he used to have a beer belly. The mustached, muscular feline stared at us with tired yet experienced and fatherly eyes. The gold in those handsome orbs surveying me, plus the graying black fur and white-haired jawline, clearly made him Blaine and his brothers' father.

"Welcome back, Blaine! How did the trip go for you three?" he asked jovially. Those golden eyes settled on the box in his middle son's paws. "Whatcha got there?"

"Ambrose found some neat stuff at an adult store before we left Milwaukee," Blaine set the box on the desk.

His father let out a whistle at the contents.

"And this guy?" he referred to me with a curious smirk. "Was he in the store too? Did they start selling cute Doberman twinks before the apocalypse?"

The younger cat snorted, "Pff, I wish."

A scarlet blush raged across my cheeks. "No, sir," I replied meekly. "I was uh, looking around, and...well, stumbled actually, uh...I stumbled on the store, and found Blaine and Cliff—"

"He found me getting blown by Cliff while we kept watch," Blaine finished unabashedly. "That's when raiders suddenly started coming our way, and we decided to bring him with us out of the city. That's about it."

"At least you got out of there alive," he sighed. Turning again to me, the older black cat held out a friendly paw. "Zachary Sauveterre. Nice to meet ya, sonny."

I fought back another blush as I stepped forward to strongly shake back.

"Donovan Miller, sir. Nice to meet you too."

"Blaine, can you do me a big favor and take these home into the bedroom, with our collection?" Mr. Sauveterre handed him the cardboard box. "Except for the coyote dildo in its packaging. Might be a good idea to put it on the adult market."

"Aww, but what if me or Cliff—"

"You already have me and your brothers," the elder feline commented as he rolled his eyes. Mine bulged out at his blasé tone. "Tell you what? If it's not bartered in two weeks, it's all yours."

"Fine, Dad," Blaine conceded.

Stepping around the desk, I watched Mr. Sauveterre give a fatherly chuckle before pecking his son on the lips, then held the door open for him. Not before patting his ass out too. Seeing the display caused an instant boner to pop in my jeans.

"See you at dinner, Blaine! Love you."

"Love ya too, Dad!"

Mr. Sauveterre closed the door shut in front of him, turning to me. His smile turned neutral.

"Now then, tell me all about yourself, Donovan Miller."

His demeanor remained cordial, but the fire behind his eyes told me the older feline didn't want me to dance around his questions. He strode back to his desk, then silently offered me to sit in the metal chair across from it. I did so, and he sat down too, those golden eyes hardening as they narrowed on me, studying me.

For what felt like hours, he asked questions. Similar questions from the night before. I was fully aware lying at that point would result in nothing gained and went about detailing even more of my life before and during the Collapse. So, I told him everything he wanted to know; how I grew up in the foster care system, being a juvenile delinquent since middle school, my final foster parents before it all went to Hell, and the events afterward. Including the attempted murder charges, my trial, the prison farm, then going out on my own when it became clear life wouldn't be returning to normal. I especially spoke about the stories I'd heard about the enclaved cities and how they treated their citizens compared to other settlements I managed to visit. As well as what I saw at the adult store.

The entire time, my eyes drifted between my paws on my knees, my boner he likely noticed, and the keen interest behind the town leader's whiskers. His chiseled jawline would move whenever he asked an occasional question, then rest atop his fingers as he listened. I was drawn into his stares several times but didn't falter too badly. Or at the least, he didn't mention it. If anything, Mr. Sauveterre relaxed his body the further I went on.

By the time I finished recounting our arrival in Wausau, it wasn't long before Mr. Sauveterre decided to ask, "Did you sleep with my boys?"

My erection tenting in my pants said it all to him. I didn't expect to hear him laugh.

"How did you like it?"

Letting out a relieved exhale, I felt my lips curve.

"Fantastic," I squeaked out, letting my embarrassment flow out like stream water from a dam. "They were all...fantastic, sir. Ambrose, Blaine, Cliff...they were great. It was...my first foursome, and the best sex of my life!"

Mr. Sauveterre boomed with laughter, then exhaled in amusement. "Yeah, my boys are talented, alright. Blaine and his brothers certainly like you. So far, I do too, and I think you'd make an excellent addition to our community."

My ears perked high to the ceiling. The moisture momentarily went dry in my throat.

"W-What?" I gasped. "But-But are you sure you're not p-put off by my—"

"Criminal past? Besides me, there's quite a few others in this town who've been to the slammer. Retail theft, D.U.I., drug possession, counterfeiting," he pointed his thumb to his chest, "and incest with three consenting adult relatives. You think you're the only person here that's got a criminal record? Or had one?"

I tried to shrug it off. "Y-Yeah, I guess, but what I did—"

"—was out of self-defense," he reminded me.

After a moment of silence, I softly asked, "Why are you doing this? Being so kind?"

"There's a reason I decided to call this place 'the town of Second Chances', kiddo," he said, standing up and offering me a sympathetic smile. "We've all got our pasts from before the Collapse, and we've all felt oppressed or constrained by the old society. They thought people like me, my boys, and even you deserved to be punished, but no longer. Me? I think you're a good kid. You know how to scavenge and be resourceful. It's clear that you hated what you did to your foster folks. Which means you've got a good heart in you. Ambrose also vouched for you, and I won't repeat myself again: I would like for you to join our community, Donovan."

He held out his paw again.

"Welcome to Second Chances."

Without overthinking it, I shook his paw. Squeezing around his feline fingers, feeling them calloused and yet firm as his thumb gently rubbed the back of my digits, my heart skipped a couple of beats and my tail wagged fiercely. My sheathed dick threatened to pitch another tent.

"Thank you, Mr. Sauveterre," I said.

"Please, let's not be formal. Call me Zachary. Everyone does."

I nodded excitedly. "Sure thing!"

***

With that, I was led back downstairs, and he started providing a tour of the town.

The architects of Second Chances certainly knew how to be self-sustaining. Between working solar panels (and water collectors) on the cabins, wind turbines in the crop fields, and a small hydroelectric dam built in a river on the opposite side of the mountain, the settlement possessed three different ways to create unlimited electrical power—enough to not only turn lights on but charge some electronics too. People could entertain themselves with movies again at the Mess Hall on Saturday evenings. The Hub could actively communicate with residents who went out scavenging for needed or requested supplies. Meanwhile, livestock and fields on the eastern property provided food, plus surplus for the harsher winters ahead.

People greeted Mr. Sauveterre—no, Zachary—with warm friendliness while giving me a skeptical eye. However, watching me start keeping up with their leader (he wasn't mayor, but he did always get elected as head of the town's democratic council) softened their glares. Hell, a few mammals introduced themselves and welcomed me to Second Chances before leaving to do their daily tasks. One older badger went so far as to hug me.

"What do you think?" Zachary asked at one point, motioning for me to follow him.

"This is all incredible, sir," I replied with full honesty. "How...How did you make all of this possible? You've got hundreds of mammals living like this for years?"

"Funny story, actually," the older black cat explained nostalgically. His thick mustache twitched beneath his whiskers. "My father, Sauveterre Sr., spent his entire childhood thinking the Soviets would nuke us any minute, and helped my grandfather keep the family's old bunker stocked with fresh cans every year. My mother met Dad through the same survivalist and prepper circles and eventually had me after getting married. So did their friends too. They all settled down with cubs but didn't stop believing the End Times would happen. One day, my parents' prepper friends pooled some of their savings together and bought the land we're standing on."

Eyes widening, I gazed at the ground, to the buildings and the mountain looming past the rooftops. As well as the trees past the circular clearing between us and the chain link fence.

"Our folks raised us to be preppers like them," Zachary continued. "Me and my friends would spend Spring Break, Summer Break, and sometimes Winter Break practicing life off the grid, but as our parents got older and some of us grew up, the trips almost stopped entirely. Dad inherited the land, which then passed down to me. A few of my friends didn't wanna follow in their parents' footsteps, but those who did joined me during summers. Me? I never did stop prepping, even after my wife died, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to keep this place ready when the apocalypse did finally arrive. Hell, I almost considered selling the land to pay for legal costs before it all didn't matter anymore."

"Legal costs?" I echoed his words. "You mean when they charged you with incest?"

Zachary's ears twitched and his hackles raised, but he relaxed.

"Yeah, so they told you?" he asked, then chuckled. "Well, thank God for timing, huh?"

"You can say that again," I laughed too. "So how many people live here?"

He mused. "Four-hundred and twenty-two. Sixty families or so, if I remember correctly. Not everyone was part of the original group that joined me and my boys. We had to go dark during the first year after the Blackout, but over time, it got safer to let more and more mammals make Second Chances their home too."

"Including me?" I cautiously asked.

His fingers brushed against mine for a moment. Our eyes met and something clicked. I gulped down a nervous laugh, and suddenly felt like that mustached smile contained...lust?

"Including you," Zachary confirmed, then patted his stomach. "Anyway, I dunno about you, but I'm starved. Wanna join me and my boys for dinner at the Mess Hall? It ain't too far."

My stomach growled in agreement. "I'd be honored."

The Mess Hall was an immense barn built in the center-back of the town, nearly built against the mountain itself. A flurry of conversations, scents, smell, and noise overwhelmed my senses at first, until Zachary guided me to a large table where the triplets sat. For that evening, they served hot bowls of rich vegetable soup, slices of warm bread, and even small helpings of freshly made vanilla ice cream from one of the settlement's cows.

A tear filled my eye. Never did I think I'd taste ice cream again.

Little by little, the other residents no longer looked at me with skepticism. In fact, a few residents came up to introduce themselves, ask about where I came from, and welcomed me to Second Chances. I had a few giving cursory glances at how closely I sat next to the triplets, but nobody brought it up. Then again, everyone was distracted by the wonderful food. Between devouring our bowls and having seconds when it was clear there would be leftovers, me and the triplets had fun talking about my future in town, and what I could do.

By the end of the meal, day turned into night and people slowly trickled back to their cabins. As everyone saw rain clouds gather overhead, Cliff volunteered to take me to my new home; a 'studio cabin' built not too far from the Hub, and a half an acre away from the Sauveterre family's home. Setting my backpack on the corner bed, Cliff made an...intriguing proposal.

"If it isn't too bad of weather, why don't you come on over to our place?" he trilled with a knowing grin. "Dad really liked talking to you. He thinks you'd be interested in a sleep over, if you know what I mean, Donnie?"

I gulped, nodding as I felt electric excitement tingle up my spine. "I believe I do."

He smiled behind those twitching whiskers. "Our place, at nine."

Cliff retreated outside with a sway of his hips, and I glanced at a wall clock placed above the studio cabin's kitchenette sink. It was going to be a long hour and fifty-nine minutes.

***

The sunset turned into twilight, which then became nighttime. I decided to pass the time by reading some of the articles within my dirty magazines, using every ounce of willpower not to jerk off. I also willed myself not to fall asleep as I lay along the comfortable bed in the corner back wall of my new home.

The studio cabin had everything I could ever need, complete with a couple modernities as well as hand-carved furnishing; a twin-sized mattress on a metallic bed frame, with soft cotton pillows and a quilted wool blanket, a working electric lamp sitting atop a handmade dresser, a writing desk and chair that faced an adjacent window, as well as a tiny bathroom in the opposite corner, complete with a sink, bathtub, and working toilet. And lastly, a wood stove in the center of the room, with its thin, black chimney jutting through the arched ceiling like a support beam. I felt overwhelmed about unpacking the items from my backpack, feeling unsure of where to put them (in the end, I compromised by deciding to hide the magazines in the dresser's top drawer whenever I didn't need them).

It became quiet outside. One by one, families returned indoors, and individual residents gathered to begin night patrols. By the time I left the cabin for my small trek, the only sounds that could be heard were distant cicadas, an occasional murmur of conversation, and rustling leaves mixed with a warm breeze. It wasn't until I began knocking on the Sauveterre family's front door that it began to rain though.

"Oh, there you are!" The front door cracked open to reveal Zachary's silhouetted frame, and he motioned me inside. "Come in, come in, sonny! You'll get soaked!"

"Thanks!" I said as he closed the door shut behind me, and my eyes began readjusting to the pitch-black darkness.

We were in a short foyer leading to a large kitchen connected to a well-furnished living room, a big window looking out into the blackness as rain tapped against the glass. It was very peaceful. From what I managed to see in the darkness, the Sauveterre family enjoyed rustic, vintage decor. Even though a few years of collapsed civilization had taken their toll on everyone on Earth, it didn't prevent Zachary from keeping his home neat and tidy.

"You doing okay?" he asked in a hushed, concerned voice that sent a warm shiver up my back. "You didn't have trouble finding this place, did ya?"

"Nah, not really. Cliff's directions helped!" I suddenly shivered after hanging my coat up on a nearby rack, per Zachary's guidance. "Brrr! A...A little cold. Very windy outside."

It seemed to pick up right outside the cabin's walls and could be heard along with the pelting rain. The noise served as a howling reminder of Mother Nature's presence.

"Here," he offered, pulling me to his chest, "let me warm you up a little..."

It didn't occur to me until that very moment the older black cat was wearing nothing but a bathrobe. A loose-fitting bathrobe, no less. It smelled of his masculine scent and the fabric softly caressed my form as Zachary pulled me into a hug. I could feel his muscles ripple beneath. I wasn't even that wet from the rain.

"Are you doing this just to grope me?" I jokingly asked, trying to suppress a moan and my fierce erection threatening to pop my jeans open.

"Hmm..." he mused while lifting his paws away and beginning to pull apart, "are you against it? Me being this close to you?"

I trembled delightedly at feeling his hot breath tickle my nostrils. A shiver in my voice and an immediate reaction from my cock—pulsing and pressing against his legs through the denim against his thighs—told him what he wanted to know, but he still waited. He wanted me to give clear consent, and I gladly did.

"No. No, it doesn't."

"And what I have with Ambrose, Blaine, and Cliff," he trailed off, "it doesn't bother you, does it? It won't bother ya either if you wanna...experience it together?"

My next words required very little thought. "Not at fuckin' all, sir."

He let out a deep, purring chuckle. His left paw lowered itself to grasp my ass, his fingers caressing my wagging tail as he pulled us chest-to-chest, and his right paw held my chin.

"Duly noted, kiddo. And I told you...call me Zachary."

I let out a needy but acknowledging whine. "Yes, Zachary...Yes..."

Gently, he guided my wet lips to his, and I blissfully moaned like a relapsed addict, cock leaking and toes curling tightly inside my heavy boots. I was plucked straight into Heaven.

Zachary Sauveterre tasted like coffee and a whiff of fresh tobacco. His powerfully potent saliva and wise lips drove me wild, especially when his mustache and whiskers tickled my upper muzzle. It felt like tasting alcohol for the first time. I could almost even taste the familiar aroma of one of the triplets. Knowing that he kissed his own sons and likely did more made my head spin. More likely than not from the lack of oxygen. Not that I complained. Neither did he.

The feline prepper released me, lips exhaling, and I let out a flustered breath.

"You doing good, Donovan?"

"Y-Yeah...I'm great."

"Good, good."

One second became two and three before the fourth led to me diving back into Zachary's wet lips again. Reeling, I grabbed his solid arms for support as my limbs melted into aroused jelly. His thumb teased the base of my thrashing tail and held me up though, that feline tongue making a leisurely tour around my inner maw, tasting my saliva and molars and the roof of my maw. Limp at first, I let out a canine whine and then matched his enthusiasm.

I stepped out of my boots and started to unbuckle my belt. Zachary stopped me, then surprised me by lifting me bridal style with little effort. Our lips remained locked together as he carried me around the corner and toured a set of stairs leading to the second floor. The boards creaked under our combined weight yet held firm somehow. Probably by design. During the entire trek up, I could feel something hard and warm and solid pressed against my backside, brushing at my tail and his groping paw.

Once again, I parted for oxygen, and leaned into his delicious neck to lick it. Zachary moaned at the attention yet didn't repent in carrying me upstairs, setting me down only when we came to an ajar door. Seeing that made me pause. Inside, I could hear loud purring and moaning.

All three Sauveterre brothers sat kneeling on a massive master bed. Three athletic, rugged, sweaty, blushing, college-aged black cats exchanged handjobs and murmured their love. Three pairs of golden eyes locked with mine, and likely their father's, as they gave lecherous smirks and stood up. Their father's calloused paws began caressing my sides, and it wasn't long before all four felines immediately went to strip me down.

In a sense of déjà vu, I was transported back to the previous night at the Halfway Safehouse, where the triplets happily invited me into their forbidden love. Only now, another member joined in, their own father, who cupped my thighs and roughly licked at my neck, inhaling my scent and tickling my shoulders with his mustached whiskers.

"Mmm, what do we have here?" Cliff asked teasingly, kissing my shoulder and pecking his father on the lips. His fingers brushed my trembling cock. "A delicious Doberman."

"A delectable Doberman," Ambrose agreed, kneeling to kiss my stomach and nuzzle my navel.

"Mmmm." Blaine flanked my left side to fondle both my balls and his dad's backside, his tongue sticking out. "Where did you find this cute Dobie, Daddy?"

"Out front, in the rain." I felt Zachary's erection press against my tail, the older feline having already shed his bathrobe. "Do you think we should warm him up, boys?"

"Yes, Daddy," they chimed together.

We tumbled to the bed. Zachary relaxed with his back against the headboard as me and his three sons writhed in a vertical pile, our limbs wildly moving around to fondle anything and everything we could touch in the candlelit master bedroom; my left fingers stroked Blaine's barbed dick as my right paw massaged Cliff's lubricated backside, his tail tickling my fingers there as he and I alternated between lapping each other and his father's meaty nipples, who in turn traded deep kisses with his other two boys. Blaine and Ambrose carefully hovered above us while grinding against us, their fingers squeezing a hip, a tail, a pair of balls or a cock unattended to. Sometimes a nipple as well. All of which certainly made me sing.

Like a starving man, I kissed, licked, moaned, muttered sweet everythings and nothings. At Cliff, his brothers behind us, his father, his fuzzy abs, his thick barbs on that monstrous cock, and his nipples as large as quarters.

And the purring? Whether they were making out with me, their velvety sandpaper tongues exploring my inner jaws or suckling on mine, or doing other sinful acts, nobody stopped purring. Not Ambrose, Blaine, Cliff, or Mr. Sauveterre himself.

Three sets of beautiful male purring noises were already ungodly sexy, but four? My pent-up cock nearly shot off like a goddamn geyser before we got down to things!

We continued trading affection as they prepared me. With my sweaty back pressed to Zachary's bare chest, his barbed member rubbing against my outer thigh and my legs spread, the triplets helped get me ready. I wanted it, as much as they warned me. I wanted to feel their father inside me, and so did he. So, they got another bottle of lube from a nearby dresser and started spreading me open with their digits, sometimes sucking me off or leaving love bites everywhere but my knot. All four of the Sauveterre men liked pressing their whiskered muzzles to me, if not to silence my loud moans as they toyed around my sphincter, then to keep the neighbors from hearing.

"Just 'cause they don't judge doesn't mean they wanna hear us, Donovan," Cliff whispered, nuzzling my balls and then murmuring up and down my rigid shaft, "It's not like ya make it easy…You're so hot, dude…Oh, I love your cock."

"He's ready, Daddy." Ambrose carefully pulled his three fingers from my anus, and I gasped into Blaine's mouth due to the emptiness. "Fuck him good, Dad. He feels great…"

"Mmm, I can feel it," Zachary growled into my ear. "Since you've already been introduced to the ABCs, lemme teach you a different alphabet…"

"Daaaaaad!" all three brothers groaned together.

Later into my first week of living in Second Chances, I would discover that the triplets had a nickname given to them by their father. A for Ambrose, B for Blaine, and C for Cliff, and all three young adult black cats (allegedly) hated it due to teasing they'd received during middle school. Even so, none ever confronted the man about it.

Or complained too much in private, hehe.

"Ready to get fucked by a real daddy, kiddo?" Feverishly nodding without letting go of Blaine's locking lips, exhaling through my nostrils, I watched as the older cat chuckled, "Here I go. Remember the safe word."

Consent. The sexily chosen safe word for the evening was 'consent'. With mine clearly given, Zachary nibbled his fangs down on my right shoulder and thrust upward, impaling me in a single go. The sharp pain caused me to loudly growl into the middle triplet's lips, which parted for air and waited for me to say the word.

"Keep going, keep going," I begged between tear-flooded eyes. My back pressed further against Zachary's muscled stomach, to his abs and in his god-like arms. "God, I love...I love it—oooohmfh!"

Blaine reconnected our lips. Having reapplied some lube to Cliff earlier, who went from teasing my cock's tip to deepthroating down to the hilt, Ambrose positioned himself behind his youngest twin brother and didn't waste time in pounding the identical ass. Which in turn caused Cliff to orally squeeze around my member. Their father's mighty fingers reached out to either skim my sides each time he humped another inch inside me—my trapped tail practically moved like a duster between his stomach and my lower back—or to give attention to his three sons. He pet one of Cliff's heated ears as his head bobbed up and down my dog cock. He caressed behind one of Blaine's ears or outright kneaded an exposed butt cheek. He possibly fingered his tailhole too. I couldn't see, not with the older black cat tenderly fucking me as his three triplets sucked me, kissed me, or helped me spitroast the one swallowing my knot.

In the back of my mind, I wondered what the outside world would think. Would they immediately judge us? Would they judge Zachary and his sons? Shun and imprison them like they nearly did before the Collapse? Certainly. They'd consider it wrong. Societally, naturally, genetically, sexually, and as much in a familial sense. If it weren't for the apocalypse, police would lock them up. Police would also lock me up for daring to live a life outside a label they placed me under—a juvenile delinquent, untrustworthy and a waste of time. None of them could see the real people beneath or bother to learn. None of them could see.

But the police were no longer around. Neither were legislators, politicians, or countrywide authority figures. In the town of Second Chances, we were free.

The rest of the night blurred together into a series of images and plenty of different positions. A lot of fucking and sucking and kissing that overwhelmed my senses. I gulped down pre and semen from all three brothers and their father. I got to be intimate with them too.

Sometimes, I'd continue to feel the memory of Zachary pounding not one but two loads inside me. I then remembered being offered a water bottle by Blaine minutes later, and casually sipping it before lying beside the bed to let him have sloppy seconds and watch him later join the others in quality father-sons time. By the time I emptied the water bottle down, you could bet that I rejoined the heavenly orgy, even emptying a load inside Cliff as he watched Zachary fuck Blaine and eventually Ambrose.

My final climax even ended with me knotting Zachary, where I tested how chiseled and solid his muscled globes were as my hips rammed his ass. God, what a man. What men! As I drifted off to sleep, lying on Zachary's stomach and surrounded by the equally yawning, purring triplets cuddling against the older black cat, he whispered something to me.

"Donovan?"

"Mmm?" I hummed.

"Welcome home," he whispered.

Ambrose, Blaine, and Cliff let out agreeing purrs, louder than before.

"Thank you," I replied, nestling back into his chest, and hugging his sons closer. "Thank you all..." Simple words could not describe the wonderful euphoria I shared with the felines.

Unfortunately, that same euphoria would be replaced with pain by the time we woke up the very next morning. I felt regret and agony at not stretching before or after we shared enough cum to impregnate each other. It was worth it though, every second and drop.

Nestled between them and relishing their warmth and presence as we slept in the rest of the morning, I would sleep more peacefully than I ever did in my life. And continue to do so every night since.