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--1

Violet wasn't a common patron at the male strip club, but neither was she a complete stranger. Every now and again, when her boyfriend Jack was away or otherwise occupied, she would head there for a few thrills; a couple of drinks and a fistful of dollar bills were enough to get all the gyrating male attention she needed to be satisfied - more so when her ex-boyfriend but perpetually-current fuckbuddy Varg happened to be there.

As she entered the strip club, a small crowd of friends at her tail, she immediately saw Varg in the act of dominating the center stage.

Bills came down on Varg in short, excited bursts like confetti, and the stage was thick with money both crumpled and crisp. Violet eased her way past other horny ladies and men to get near the stage, and once there, she regarded the handsome wolf with a smile. He shot back with a grin, however difficult it was to see for the chaff of the epileptic, multicolored lighting that was compulsory in a strip club.

Violet fished a five dollar bill from her pocket, but she didn't throw it; she held it up between two fingers.

Varg smoothly knelt in the bridge of his routine, and he dropped to his all-fours, stalking to the edge of the stage in a predatory crawl. The flag of his tail swished over his heart-stoppingly fine ass, one clad only in the pointlessly thin material of a g-string. He moved in time to the music, but as commanding as his moves were, it almost felt like it was the other way around. He rumbled with a growl as he snuffled Violet's paw; he kissed her digits and nosed the bill before biting down upon it, his fangs puncturing the crisp ragpaper, but it mattered not. He gently took it from her paw, spat it on the stage, offered Violet a gleaming smirk, and returned to his routine.

--2

Though Violet was the unofficial leader of the group, none of her friends stayed very close; the moment she split off from the pack, in fact, the others went their separate ways, in search of thrills and shaking pelvises.

One of her friends, Elise, knew exactly what she wanted, and Varg wasn't it. With a spring in her step and a friend at her heels, she went straight for a smaller stage, one near the far wall, a ways away from Varg; there, she found a very handsome, and - if the unreal thong bulge of his thick, curled shaft was any indication - well-endowed stallion, his muscular body rippling beneath a coarse, yet vibrant coat of tan fur. She bullied her way to the stage just so she could rest her elbows on it and dreamily drool at the equestrian stud, one who would have been just as comfortable lifting anvils given his phenomenal musculature.

Tucker, Elise's ever-present companion, was only interested in the equine stallion in the most stringent use of the word. Horses were fine and well, but she wasn't utterly stricken by them like Elise; being the aggressive girl she was, she preferred men she could dominate and utterly control, and since the strip club boasted a little something for everyone, she assumed she'd find something more her speed. It was with that in mind that she walked off, leaving Elise's side, but the lizard girl was oblivious, a common state for her at an idle, but a guarantee with a studly horse in her crosshairs.

--3

With her paws in the flank pockets of her nearly shredded denim vest - worn entirely unbuttoned - and an unmistakable gleam in her eye that begged for trouble and danger, Tucker didn't look like the kind of girl that anybody wanted to pick a fight with, a look only compounded by her species as a Doberman and the generous pocking of scars all over her body.

These scars manifested as patches of flesh where fur simply didn't grow, like barren land. An expression of genuine disinterest on her face was another warning to anyone who might dare to pester her; it was only thanks to Elise's interference that she had gone at all, wrecking what could have been a productive night of training or causing trouble. Despite her insistence that she would hate it, Elise was adamant, and in the end, Tucker gave in; she always gave in, and as much as she hated to admit it, when Elise told her she would enjoy herself, she usually did.

Despite - or was it thanks to? - all of those scars and all of that attitude, Tucker was a sexy creature in her own way, and she thrived on dominion and unpredictability. Despite looking the part of a poser punk, she walked the walk and talked the talk that proved her to be authentic. Her strut turned heads and drew in curious eyes; any number of people looked her way.

Tucker spotted one such individual seated at a table that was situated close to no particular stage, but it was near the bar, affording its' sole occupant a decent view of most of the meat on display and drinks. He was a rabbit, in his mid-twenties, she guessed, and very handsome in that young man way, but this innocence was casually subverted by his long, chocolate-hued hair and a few earrings.

They shared a long gaze at one another as Tucker sauntered by; it was hard to tell if the rabbit was merely baffled by her appearance or if he enamored with it, but Tucker was decidedly interested, and she telegraphed this with a tiny smirk and a lick of her lips. Rabbits were always worth her attention, for they were one of her hang-ups. She didn't want to swoop in, though; she wasn't interested in getting laid yet. First, she wanted to do like everyone else in the club; whoop, cat-call, and toss money at some writhing meat. She just needed to find the right cut first.

--4

At the tail of Violet's group was a jogauni - Artica. She was an attractive and vaguely vulpine creature with a soft coat in the hues of cyan and white. As a girl - misnomer that the word was - she wore a halter top that matched the white shade of the brunt of her fur. Her pants were not so coordinated, but the saturated hue of the denim matched her blue back and accents off-handedly.

This timid girl kept close to the others, her demeanor endearingly nervous, but not cripplingly so. She probably wouldn't have come to a strip club on her own, but she gladly did so at Violet's suggestion, who promised that it would be a fun night.

Artica was of the opinion that Violet simply felt guilty about attending alone for the sole sake of seeing Varg, and having friends close by helped to alleviate some of that guilt. Case in point, the tiger was already off on her own, ogling that wolf whom she always seemed obsessed with getting laid by, but the jogauni wasn't one to judge her or anybody.

The quiet jogauni contemplated a drink, but the allure of the stages called to her, offering writhing male bodies in various stages of undress, flashing lights that aroused the senses in the most infantile ways, and the smells of sweat, musk, and crisp American money. They were all stimuli not easily resisted, especially for someone who gave in to her senses as readily as Artica, so she calmly toured the stages, and she sought out the kind of creature who tickled her interest.

Almost immediately, she determined that Varg wasn't what she wanted at all. Her interests drifted more toward something slender and sensual, and when she came up to Tucker's side and saw what the Doberman had found and was whooping and shouting at, she knew she'd stumbled upon the perfect specimen.

Tucker flashed a grin at Artica, and then they both turned their eyes to the stage.

--5

Just as Tucker and Artica found their mark, and as the stud who had earned Elise's attention was giving his partner a turn, Varg's routine ended. He escorted Violet to an unoccupied table for his break, and was forced to brush past throngs of adoring ladies and gentlemen to do so. There, he pulled out her chair, and he sat across from her, where he first organized, and then counted the mighty stack of one-dollar bills he'd acquired.

Just at a glance, Violet guessed there was as much as three-hundred dollars there, more if the bills weren't all singles. Maybe I can get Jack to try out here, she thought only briefly. The thought saw her lips curl up into a naughty grin, one Varg mistook as aimed at himself.

"What can I say? I'm a natural at this kind of thing," he chuckled, leaving the bills in two neat piles. "Not a bad haul for my first shift. Then again, with you here, I get the feeling I'm gonna be doing a lot of pro-boner lap dances" He slid his tongue over his fangs, a gesture Violet unconsciously mirrored, though it was a thousand times more appropriate for a saber-toothed tiger like her.

"That's a possibility," she said with deceptive sweetness, reaching across the table, around the piles of money, paying them no mind as she clutched Varg's own paws. The wolf squeezed right back, and his eyes, ever intense and predatory, narrowed to slits.

"Most people don't get to touch me," Varg grinned, his tail lashing through the open back of the chair.

"I guess it's a good thing I'm not like most people," Violet rumbled, letting go of the wolf's paws before scooting her chair back, leaving plenty of room between herself and the table for a writhing, nearly naked body.

Varg smirked and stood, leaving the money piles where they were; nobody would dare try to rip him off. With stunning grace for a creature of his size, the speedo-clad lupine straddled Violet's lap, and he treated the lovely tiger to only his best moves; she watched with a tiny, curt smile, almost a grin.

The sights of Varg's chiseled ass cheeks and plump, enticing sheath and ballsack were remarkably enticing, and Violet, especially horny, and especially around Varg, couldn't be trusted to keep her paws to herself for very long.

--6

"That's what I call a faggot pretty-boy, right there," Tucker said, her face just as hungrily twisted and malicious as her leering words. Next to Artica - who admired more in silence, with only a small, coy smile in comparison to Tucker's belligerence - the Doberman alternately coaxed and heckled the handsome young slice on the stage, his slender body wrapped around that greased pole in the most intimate manners possible while bills crunched under his delicate feet.

Tucker wasn't the only person watching, not by far, and she wasn't the only one calling out to him, but he was nothing if not aware of her. The frightening-looking bitch with the scars and the jacket that had probably never been buttoned was not the woman he wanted to turn his back on, but that lecherous danger aroused him and only added to his performance. As any fox was apt to be, he was slender, delicate, a fine example of nubile flesh and girlish good looks, and he was small - small enough that Tucker could have easily menaced and dominated him, something she imagined vividly and spoke loudly of.

"Fuckin' hot, sissy!" she barked, watching with domineering female lust as the flexible fox wrapped his naked legs around the pole and bent over backwards, and then he supported himself with a single paw planted on the money-littered stage. His silky blonde locks pooled upon its' surface, and with his free, naked paw, he stroked enticingly down the curve of his own chest and stomach, all the while letting the fluff of his exotic tail - which was dressed in the orange of the most common fox color, but banded in a manner reminiscent of a raccoon - flick in a flawed, but still rhythmic dance to the music.

It was such a breathtaking display that, in an inversion of dispositions, Tucker was stunned into growling, lip-licking silence, while Artica blurted out what a stud the coonfox was. She followed it up with a bashful laugh, one made complete when she covered her mouth and tried to hide her face. Tucker sneered at the jogauni approvingly and gave her a punch on the shoulder; Artica grinned her way, and then turned her eyes back to the fox, who had since returned to more typical gyrations.

--7

Bevan was having a hard time reconciling just how he felt since that scary, yet sexy Doberman bitch had looked at him. It wasn't just any kind of look, it was an all-too-obvious look.

He was an attractive creature, however, and he wasn't shy about admitting that; as far as rabbits went, he considered himself to be worth at least a second look, but there was something almost frightening about the gleam he had seen in the Doberman girl's eye. He could still see her in the crowd, one of better than a dozen men and women alike watching and calling out to an attractive dancer, and he could hear her, if only barely; he had to angle his ears just right, but he could pick up what was an unmistakably rough, domineering voice, barking out words as laced with derision as they were lewd and so obviously aroused.

Bevan had to admit - to himself, since he was drinking alone - that she actually had a sexy voice. Commanding, domineering, no-doubt belonging to the kind of woman that could, and would, put any man his place. It fit he appearance perfectly.

That simple notion soon started to turn into a fantasy, and with a naughty smile, Bevan relaxed in his chair. He could feel his erection throbbing against the underside of the table, and that pressure made him shudder and unconsciously hump into its' unyielding surface.

What that represented in his fantasy was either a very rough and cruel grope through his jeans, or maybe the business-end of a boot gradually pushing down; he wasn't sure since it was all a fantastic and filthy blur, but it made him want a drink. He lifted his glass to his lips, and he sipped the blood-colored mix; beyond the nose-crinkling flavor of cranberry juice, his throat was burned by that paint-thinner taste of potato liquor, and for reasons entirely lacking in sexuality, he shuddered again.

--8

The lizard girl, Elise, had a drunken smile plastered to her cute face, but she hadn't had a single drop of alcohol that night. What she was having instead was much stronger; a face full of horse musk, unadulterated and raw.

She had found a corner of the club pandering solely to horse lovers, where a number of handsome equine studs took turns and occasionally double-teamed the enviable pole. Their performances weren't explicitly homoerotic towards one another, but the fond looks and promising winks they were apt to give to their male admirers were either quite telling, or a sign of superb acting.

They were just as prone to treating the ladies to their little affections, and Elise, the most lovestruck and amorous amongst them, got a brunt of that attention. She called to them and cooed over the music, fawning over them with all her heart, and she was liberal with the dollar bills she'd stuffed in her pockets before coming to the strip club.

It was only natural, then, that when one of the muscular studs tagged out for his break, Elise was on him almost immediately; the other patrons up at the stage were content to keep watching the pole, but that lizard girl wanted a more personal touch. She followed him as he walked to the bar, where he drank not liquor, but a tall glass of water, and suddenly, she realized that the dewy sheen on his body wasn't baby oil, but sweat. Raw, natural, pheromone-laden sweat.

Standing behind the stud as he gulped down his water, Elise ran her hands down his bulging back; he rumbled affectionately and lashed his tail. After a slow turn, he looked down at his reptilian admirer with a lopsided smirk.

Elise smiled dreamily. "Do you guys do lap dances?"

The horse evened his smirk out into a grin, and he courteously led Elise to a chair.

--9

Violet watched the stiff bulge of Varg's sheath and the more pliable, jiggly outlines of his balls with narrow, intense eyes. Her breathing had shortened to quick, almost gasping snatches, and her exercise shorts - something worn for comfort and familiarity, with nothing beneath - were fast growing wet in the crotch.

Eternally gyrating, his package nearly hitting the tiger in the face, Varg looked down his hard, glistening body at the feline and rumbled in a predatory way. "I know you like what you're seeing," he said in that rumble, his tail swishing behind his back, "I can smell that wet pussy of yours."

Violet grinned, but it was contrived and bashful. She slid a paw down inside the front of her shorts, her naughty gestures obscured by the seizing lights of the club, but Varg knew what she was up to. He couldn't even see it that well, but he knew she was playing with herself; it was simply what she did around him.

Smoothly, he turned. Rather than his groin, it was suddenly his muscular, taut ass that was in the tiger's face, bumping her nose and making her sweat and blush. The lupine flag of his tail brushed across her face and ruffled her hair, enticing her to nuzzle.

Though gingerly brushing her fingers over the lips of her cunt with one paw, Violet more crudely squeezed one of Varg's meaty thighs with the other, but this didn't interrupt his routine at all. He said something lewd and soft to her, but she didn't hear it - she didn't care about this fact, either. The feline eased two warm, padded fingers past the threshold of her cunt, and she moaned, the noise entirely lost to the thudding beat of the music.

--10

Tucker and Artica's chosen performer soon tagged out with another handsome young twink, one that Tucker guessed - aloud - couldn't have been old enough to drink.

Artica looked past this new creature, a cheetah, and watched the coonfox disappear behind the curtains. Tucker was shouting and calling to the cat onstage, heckling and teasing him just as she'd done to the foxcoon, but Artica watched the fox go with a little sigh and a dreamy smile.

She said something to Tucker, but the most the loud Doberman got was get a drink. She gave Artica a thumbs up, and she gave the jogauni's ass a benign, singular pat as she went.

The Doberman went right back to her belligerence and her outspoken lust while the jogauni just shook her head and casually walked to the bar. Unintentionally, her steps and her hips matched the rhythm of the music.

She passed by Bevan, an unknown face to her, and vice versa; he smiled charmingly, and she smiled back, but with the addition of a subtle and unnoticeable blush. The moment passed without incident or remark, and Artica seated herself on a stool at the bar. Sweetly, and with a smile at the bartender, she requested and received a White Russian, something she sipped contently. She shivered from the gentle burn of the vodka, and she let her eyes ease shut for just a moment of relaxation.

As she sipped her drink and allowed that sweetened, thickened alcohol to take hold of her, adding a soft haze to the world she saw, a stallion came and went at the end of the bar; she thought she heard Elise's voice, but in that noisy club, anything was possible. It didn't distract her, and she was apt not to let anything achieve that; not the music, not writhing bodies out of the corners of her eyes, not Tucker's rambunctious yowling which carried even over all of the noise of the club. Nothing took her away from the relaxation of her drink, until the foxcoon she'd been watching sat down beside her.

"You can actually serve me liquor tonight," he said to the bartender, smiling deviously, "I've got a ride home tonight. Screwdriver, and make it a double." He caught Artica glancing his way, and he turned to face her, swiveling the stool, not just turning his head. "Hey there," he cooed, "you look familiar."

The jogauni set her drink down on the bar and nodded her head slowly; she turned on the stool so her body was angled towards, but not quite facing, the fox. Though he was dressed now, Artica could still visualize the best elements his almost naked body, like the inoffensive outline of his sheath and the effeminate lines of his chest and stomach. She was in the middle of licking her lips - to remove some of her creamy drink from them, not for sexual reasons - when the coonfox casually offered her his paw.

"My name's Desmond. It's nice to meet you."

Artica took the fox's paw, first shaking it, but he leaned close and planted a gentlemanly kiss on the back of it; the jogauni blushed and grinned, but Desmond mirrored only the latter.

"I'm Artica," she said quietly, pulling her paw back with an endearing bashfulness. "I like the way you dance."

The fox smiled, resting an elbow on the counter, his head upon his palm. "I'm glad. Though it seems like your, uh," he spared a genuinely nervous glance at the stage, "friend liked it even more."

The jogauni covered her mouth for a laugh, a cute gesture, one Desmond grinned at and leaned closer for. "I might use the word friend loosely, but she's okay," Artica admitted, leaning closer to Desmond, mirroring his cute, eager actions. She reached out tentatively, and she lay a paw upon his chest, no longer bare, but covered with a silk shirt. A purr resonated in the coonfox's body, one she felt rather than heard; behind her, her tail wagged and curled cutely.

--11

Elise could hardly contain her elation as the handsome horse sat her down in a chair not far from the stage he and his other equine performers dominated. "Lotta dancers ain't exactly fond of bein' touched," the horse said, his drawling voice on a similar register as the bass line of the music, "but me - I'm pretty much all right with it." He flashed a grin at Elise, his spotlessly white, flat teeth glistening with a sheen of spittle in the multicolored lights.

Elise leaned back in the chair, her modest chest unconsciously pouted out, her long tail lazily swaying.

The stud - a Tennessee Walker; Elise could tell easily from his colors - was quick to fill the lizard's view, his bobbing and gyrating package close to her eyes. Like his fellow studs, he wore a thong, one with an oversized groin pouch. They were articles designed, so it seemed, specifically for horses and others with exceptional endowments. In it, it was easy to see the outline of his colossal, round ballsack, and curled around and beneath this bulge, to the point that it almost rubbed his own taint, was his enormous cock.

This hefty pouch of junk bounced without apology before Elise's hungry eyes and sniffing nose, the musk unbearably raw and powerful, doing things to her body that rendered her nipples stiff and her cunt wet. The former was clear as day, her pert nubs poking against the soft, thin material of her snug tee, but the latter was more secretive, dampening her panties and making her musk clash with the stallion's.

"Hey, baby," he said casually, "what's yer name, if you don't mind my askin'?"

Elise leaned closer, out of her lazily reclined position, and she partook of a sniff of the stud's bulging crotch. "It's Elise," the lizard said in a dreamy sigh, interrupted when the stallion's gyrating saw his groin bump into her face; he didn't seem to notice, and she didn't seem to mind.

"Elise, huh? That's a pretty cute name," the stallion murmured as he turned, offering the reptilian girl a chance to enjoy his ass - and what an ass it was. His entire body was toned with muscle; his remarkable buttocks, bisected only by the scrawny strand of a thong, were absolutely chiseled. It was the kind of rear that Elise knew only a horse, a stallion, more specifically, could have.

She reached out with reverent hands, and she clutched those cheeks; though made of raw muscle and resembling carefully carved marble with their perfect form and symmetry, they felt like iron beneath her greedy fingers. She made no effort to part them; she wasn't nearly as interested with what lay between them. It was the shape and the masculinity that drove her wild. She squeezed and rubbed with a lecherous flair, her lower lip bitten, the corners of her mouth up in a dirty grin.

"Heh, mmh, I get the feeling yuh really like horses," the stallion said, grinding his ass back into her grabby palms. Elise didn't answer, at least not verbally; her hands and her cunt, saturated with moisture and exuding its' pheromones, were doing the talking.

--12

Violet hooked her thumb into the waistband of Varg's g-string and slid the material down, and the wolf's gyrations all but ceased when she did so.

Under ordinary circumstances, he made an effort to keep flaccid when he worked; the outline of a sheath and a set of balls was, however ironically, a more pleasing sight than a g-string stretched out into a tent. With Violet, he was free to let his guard down, and though he wasn't sure if there was a policy against full nudity or sex with the patrons, he didn't much care at that point. His sheath bulged, and the fur-obscured orifice at the top soon gave way to a pink, tapered tip, followed by a few inches of shaft, which continued to steadily emerge.

Leaving the g-string taut around the wolf's thighs, Violet let her free paw clutch the emerging length of Varg's shaft, squeezing down upon it, grinding her soft palm pad into the tapering tip, her claws dully grazing over the veiny, pink surface of the shaft's flesh.

Varg grumbled a noise of pleasure and lay a paw on the back of the tiger's head, where he stroked through her blonde, but purple-accented hair.

Violet purred, pressing into Varg's affection, pleasing him in greater ways, squeezing his pink flesh in her paw, coaxing his erection out even faster. She licked her lips at the sight of the wolf's full, knotted meat; it throbbed and glistened with the moisture of the sheath it formerly resided in while the tip drooled with fresh, bitter pre. She squeezed it tight and rubbed beneath the pointed tip with her thumb, and then she dragged her rough tongue across said tip, sending a shudder up Varg's spine.

Around them, a small crowd had begun to gather; neither one of them seemed to notice or care. On the periphery of the energetic lighting, the crowd was nothing but a cast of blurry, faceless shadows.

--13

It didn't take long for Tucker to grow bored with the new sissy. He lacked the moves and the long hair that made the last one fun to watch and heckle. She turned away from the stage, and she muscled past a small throng of patrons who weren't so hung-up on the last twink.

She started to ask herself just what she might do next, but then she laid her eyes on Bevan once more, and that question was answered before she could even finish asking it. The scary bitch grinned as she closed in on the rabbit, her teeth bared, her eyes as frightening as they were intriguing. She took the seat adjacent to Bevan, across a small table made to comfortably accommodate two, but barely seat no more than three. With all the femininity of a truck driver, she leaned on the table, propped herself up on a forearm, and she menaced the rabbit out of the tops of her eyes.

Bevan had been interrupted mid-sip by Tucker's sudden claim of the other seat; he slowly lowered his glass to the table, the sound of the clinking ice cubes far too subtle to be heard over the thumping roar of the dance music. He smiled incredulously and sweetly, his lips pursed, showing no teeth but his species' trademark incisors. Had Tucker looked closer, she would have seen that the rabbit was blushing, yet this coloration was subtle. "Hi?" he simultaneously queried and stated, one ear twitching independently of the other.

Tucker dragged her tongue over her teeth, and then she reached across the table, snatching the rabbit by the neck of his shirt.

Bevan's smile faltered, his expression turning more dull and shocked, a sentiment his eyes reflected; he was still afraid of Tucker from their exchange of glances before, but he was also still interested. Nevertheless, he had a single thought as she yanked the slack out of his shirt collar: if she's gonna punch me for some reason, it's gonna happen in about two seconds. The rabbit flinched, wrinkled his nose, and then Tucker kissed him.

Bevan tried to wilt back from Tucker for all of five seconds, but her insistence in the kiss persuaded him to obey. She slathered the palate of his maw with great laps of her broad, canine tongue, and she rubbed the back of his head and around his ears with her grabby paws.

Bevan was yet astounded by the Doberman's aggression, something that had carried over well into her lust, but sense began to return to him, and the sex appeal he'd harbored for the frightening bitch guided his paws. He lay one upon the crook of her neck and her shoulder, but the other strayed to more intimate territory, clutching one of the modest, but brassiere-unhindered breasts that made intentionally subtle bulges in the baggy cloth of her tee.

When he squeezed, Bevan awaited retaliation for a microsecond, but he got a gruff rumbling of pleasure and a few more insistent laps instead. Emboldened, he groped again and again, while his other paw massaged the Doberman's neck with similar squeezes.

Tucker broke the kiss off, and across the short span of the circular table, one of her lusting paws - the one formerly molesting the rabbit's ear - shot south to grab the bulge of Bevan's erection. The hare simultaneously gasped and shuddered, and he started to hump into the bitch's paw. Tucker didn't deny him, palming, pushing, and squeezing with her great strength, but only for a few seconds; after that, she tugged down the zipper.

Bevan had no qualms about having his cock manhandled, and he had even less issue with Tucker suddenly unzipping his jeans. For a moment, she fumbled with the pesky button, but Bevan took care of that himself. Tucker, still exerting herself over the table, reached in between the flaps of the hare's jeans and squeezed the aching bulge that manifested in his briefs; unhindered by the denim, she molested the rabbit's cock for all it was worth.

--14

Desmond and Artica had moved well beyond first-names and gentle touches; the foxcoon and the jogauni comfortably kissed at the bar, Artica off of her stool and in Desmond's lap, her legs wrapped behind his back.

Like sensual lovers, they stroked over one another's slender, sexual bodies; Artica's paws rubbed on Desmond's back, across the protrusions of his shoulderblades, and she savored his form through his silk shirt.

Desmond's paws were more apt to do what they pleased, running down the vaguely vulpine creature's naked back until they came to her hips; an even shorter slide down brought them to her rear, curved and taut, a beautiful behind in any regard, but accentuated by tight denim.

A fond noise in the vein of a purr rumbled up from the jogauni's chest, but rather than push back into the paws that held her behind, she pressed her hips into the foxcoon's own.

Desmond was already erect, throbbing behind his pants; dancing had left him on the edge of arousal, as it always did, but kissing Artica and freely touching her supple body had left him entirely hard and ready. Similarly, Artica was wet, and she was steadily dampening her panties, but that was hardly all; she had an erection all of her own, and this was ground into Desmond's bulge.

Her actions were not authoritative, instead rather submissive, for she only sought pleasure, not dominance. Desmond was aware of Artica's bulge, if only vaguely, but he wasn't repulsed by it.

--15

While the two nearly-vulpine creatures kissed, the Doberman bitch ruthlessly kneaded Bevan's underwear-clad manhood. Whether she intended to expose it in time was a question that would never get an answer, however; in her overzealous attempts to lean across the table, she bumped Bevan's glass, still more-or-less full, and the top-heavy drink fell towards the rabbit.

The table would be no worse for the spill, its' laminated to clean up with only a quick wipe, but chilled vodka and cranberry juice splashed over the hare's stomach and crotch in a quick splash. Tucker paused and blinked, and beyond instinctively grabbing and catching the glass, Bevan was similarly stunned.

The sudden clinking of ice cubes and the splatter of liquid turned a few heads, and among them were Desmond and Artica. The latter broke off the kiss to look, and Desmond joined her in curiosity, not out of courtesy, though the jogauni reinstated the kiss as quickly as it had ended. Similarly, nobody else seemed to care all that much, aside from the few who realized that Bevan's fly was open, and Tucker's strong paw was on that which was formerly hidden inside.

Tucker gave the rabbit's cock a squeeze through the briefs, and fruit-flavored liquor wrung out of the stained fabric; an idea as absurd as it was lewd struck her at once, and she pulled back, only to step around the table and kneel near the rabbit. He shifted in his seat, perhaps to stand, perhaps just so he could start blotting his clothes with some napkins, but it was the angle Tucker needed, and she attacked; the Doberman bitch buried her face in the rabbit's crotch, and she engulfed the bulge of Bevan's throbbing penis. She sucked and gnawed through the liquor-stained briefs, her tongue treated to flavors that were fruity, alcoholic, and masculine; Bevan just rested his paws on the back of her head and groaned.

--16

Just as Tucker's mouth was occupied, so would Elise's soon be. The handsome equine stud had turned again, and the great, bouncing bulge in his g-string no longer simply jiggled; it throbbed. As that enormous cock began to grow and the negligible material of the g-string was pulled taut, she could - and did - track exactly where the flared tip was, and not just for the shape; thick and musky pre-cum was smeared in a long streak into the gaudily-colored material, and it made her mouth water.

Her hands had been eager to palm that ass, but they trembled at the opportunity to touch his crotch. She cupped those heavy, sweating balls in a hand that was comparatively tiny, but she freed the erecting length of that equine member with the other, leaving the scrotum yet covered.

The stripper's member drooled incessantly with pre that stained the knees of the lizard's pants, yet this defilement didn't matter to Elise. She grabbed for the stud's cock with both hands, clutching it with one just behind the flare, the other upon the medial ring, and she lifted it to her lips. She stuck her tongue out and lapped across the drooling flare, reminiscent of a girl and a lollipop, but what she got was neither sweet nor innocent. The taste of male pre sent shivers up her spine, and her body told her one word: MORE.

The lizard girl parted her lips, and she started to take the stallion in; her cheeks bulged and she gagged when his oversized tip pushed into her throat, but she took it, and she loved it. Elise rolled her eyes back, and she lazily - and noisily - sucked and bobbed on the stallion.

--17

Artica and Desmond eased out of their fond, lackadaisical kiss, and the jogauni lay her chin upon the tod's shoulder. Up and down his slender back, she stroked with both paws, and she rumbled in fond affection as the sissy vulpine returned the favor, yet not so innocently.

Desmond did indeed rub her back, left bare by the halter, but he also let his feminine paws roam around to the front, up beneath the thought-provoking top. Underneath it, no undergarments stood between Desmond's soft, padded paws and Artica's full, round breasts. He palmed gently, the soft palm pads of his paws rubbing into the cyan flesh of her stiffened nipples, his squeezes and gropes on both in frequent symmetry and infrequent opposition.

Artica could only smile and fondly groom on the tod's neck fur, where her teeth occasionally bore down to the flesh for a more tantalizing nibble, but Desmond took all of the affections in stride. The two of them might have been content to cuddle for a while longer; Artica had even begun to consider inviting Desmond to come home with her for the night.

Expectations were being exceeded that night, however; Tucker hadn't expected to find Bevan, and Violet (probably) hadn't expected to have Varg in public like so. Elise had not expected the horse she was going down on, either; Artica saw the act from over Desmond's shoulder, and it made her both grin and blush. And then she turned her head elsewhere, and she saw Tucker's head bobbing in that rabbit's lap.

Artica was so infrequently one to lose her inhibitions in public, but something about the moment struck her as appropriate for such naughty behavior. She eased back, smooched Desmond's lips, and then she lifted the neck of her halter up and off and let the garment fall, exposing her plump breasts and the paws that held them. She smiled cutely; Desmond grinned impishly.

"How about the pants next?" he asked.

--18

Varg eased Violet off of his throbbing, oozing meat; as far as he was concerned, the freeloaders close by had had enough of a show. He took the reluctant-to-quit feline by the paw, and he walked with her, leading her across the floor. The crowd parted to admit them. Some followed, but others simply set their sights elsewhere; of these, some turned to the stages to peruse the other strippers, but others headed for the bar.

Varg led Violet to the doors adjacent to the stage, the ones that were forbidden to all but the employees, and just inside of which were a pair of burly guards; people were less inclined to enjoy themselves with mafia-looking doormen close by, and so they stayed hidden until needed.

Along the way, they skirted close to the stunning sight of Elise in the middle of making a horse's cock disappear with only her mouth, and in letting their eyes wander here, they also caught sight of Tucker, who was just then exposing Bevan's already well-sucked cock. Not a far sight from those two, Violet noticed Artica, and Varg noticed his fellow stripper Desmond, the both of them exchanging saliva most freely. The tiger and the wolf exchanged looks, then grins, and then shrugs.

When in Rome, Violet thought.

I'm gonna get so laid, Varg thought, and he took Violet to a table in the middle of all of this debauchery. It had a few glasses on it, left over by whoever used the table last, and yet uncollected by the staff. He swept these off and onto the floor; the high-impact glasses clattered noisily to the hard floor beneath, spilling ice water and stale booze, but none of them broke.

This caught the attention of Desmond and Artica, who looked over with a start, just as they had over Tucker and Bevan's incident; those latter two also looked. Bevan turned his ears, then his head, and the Doberman peered over the table. Elise was still ignorant to the world around her, but the huffing and panting stud she was blowing looked.

Those five might not have watched for very long, but Varg lifted Violet up onto the table, and he yanked her shorts away with all due haste. Similarly, he peeled off his g-string and flung it away carelessly; it hooked on somebody's nose, and they would later leave with the item as a souvenir. "Let's fuck like animals, baby," Varg growled, throwing one leg up on the table, the foot of the other still planted on the floor. He prodded the pointed, slicked tip of his cock to the tiger's snatch, wet with arousal and anticipation.

"'Till we're blind," Violet grinned, and her lupine ex mirrored this expression.

Varg pushed in all the way to the knot, and Violet arched and gasped.

--19

Desmond tried to reinstate the kiss, but Artica absently pulled her face away; she was too busy watching Violet and Varg, but the foxcoon acknowledged her lack of attention only with a small chuckle. "Friends of yours, or something?" he asked, choosing to occupy himself otherwise by nibbling down her neck and chaining kisses across the round, soft-furred flesh of her breasts.

Shivering from the attentions, but not entirely distracted by them, Artica uttered a tiny, positive noise, mhm, and she lay a paw on the back of the tod's head.

The jogauni had been waiting for a reason to really come out of her shell - to enjoy herself, preferably in public. Violet had already broken the ice; all she had to do was jump in. "Hey - Desmond?" she muttered, climbing out of the tod's lap, away from his grabby paws; he leaned towards her, but stopped before he fell.

"Mhm?"

"Do you want to...?" Artica asked, her smile small and coy. Already, she was unzipping and unbuttoning her fly.

Desmond grinned. "I do."

--20

Tucker dipped her head into Bevan's lap again, but only for a quick and dirty lap up the underside of his cock. The rabbit's member had long since been cleaned of any vodka, as had the crotch pouch of his briefs, and all that remained on either was a thick coating of Doberman saliva. She stood up, and for just a moment, she towered over Bevan and made him feel small, but then she pulled the rabbit up to his feet, and their heights were more evenly matched.

The hare smiled wanly, as he had been apt to do when he wasn't sure what to expect. In this case, she shed her jacket, and then her shirt. They made a messy pile on the floor, and her breasts made for a modest, but pleasing sight in the rainbow-lit club. Bevan thought that the Doberman winked; whether she did or not didn't matter. He assumed she wanted him to make the move, and in that, he was correct.

Tucker welcomed his sudden and deep tongue-kiss with a submissive shudder, and when he took hold of her ass, she pushed it back into his grip. With her own paws, which could have put Bevan in the hospital if she wanted them to, she stroked down the rabbit's pleasing body, under his shirt and over his hips, across the toned ass that any hare was expected to have, and across the cotton-ball fluff that was his endearing little tail. His body pleased her infinitely, and his touch aroused her and spurred her to complete submission.

Tucker was so pliable to Bevan's molestations that he got away with reaching between their bodies and cupping a breast, which he thoroughly groped and fondled to his heart's content. Meanwhile, he licked deep in her maw, across her sharp teeth and her gums, over the wide and slobbery tongue she bore.

--21

At Artica's encouragement, Desmond took off the entirety of his clothes; the fact that she sported an erection roughly the size of his own - and knotted as his was - didn't seem to deter the fox, but when she took in just how girly he was, she doubted if he was any stranger or opponent to cock. Then, she glanced at Violet's writhing form on the table, and for all of five seconds, she wondered what she should do, and then the answer came to her. She didn't think Violet would mind what she had in mind.

The jogauni stood near the edge of the table closest to the writhing, yowling feline's head, which hung off the edge slightly. Violet's sexual theatrics were momentarily interrupted - Varg also looked, but nothing sans an orgasm could stop his mighty pelvic thrusts - when she looked at the upside-down form of Artica. Artica thought the big cat was about to say something, but in a moment of boldness that would become legendary in future rounds of girl talk, the vulpine creature pushed her knotted meat into the tiger's maw with a low growl that went unheard by all.

Violet made a startled noise that sounded like mmph!, but she started to suck and slurp on Artica's meat in short order. Having a knotted cock in either end of her was not at all an inconvenience to her, and she reached up to touch the jogauni. One paw found purchase on a heavy, round breast, but Artica took the other paw in her own and gently squeezed it.

With her face in the jogauni's crotch, Violet could see very little aside from Artica's scrotum, but she was certain she saw another creature behind her vaguely vulpine friend.

It was Desmond, who after laying his paws on the jogauni's hips, pressed the pointed, pink tip of his cock to Artica's snug and inviting pussy. Slowly, the foxcoon entered her, and Artica moaned, but it was a combination of the two pleasures. She pushed back into her new friend, whose knot soon kissed up to her snatch, and she was delighted to feel his slender arms wrap around her stomach.

--22

The stallion Elise had been sucking on had never lost interest in the orgy that was fast emerging, but he wasn't dumb enough to interrupt such a good blowjob. He let her keep sucking and bobbing, and he took it all with some very real moans and snorts, but the time came that she pulled back on her own, and she smacked her lips.

Elise looked up at the happy, glazed expression of the stallion with one of her own, and she made to stand; the equine meat stepped back to let her do so, and he even took her hand to lift her. "Thanks," she cooed, wrapping her arms around his big, blunt body for a hug; she stood on her tip-toes to straddle his shaft, which rested warmly in the fork of her legs.

Whether she was thanking him for the cock or the hand was unclear, but the horse smiled fondly either way. He also hoped that the girl wasn't content to just suck him off part-way; the last thing he was interested in was a case of blue balls when he had to work the pole. "Hey, our goal is to make our patrons happy," he chuckled in surprisingly good nature, sounding not at all creepy.

"Well, I think I'm almost happy!" Elise grinned, squeezing her thighs together on the stallion's cock. The horse grunted, then grinned back to her.

"Almost, huh?"

"Yeah. Almost" She turned, and she was about to remark on finding some place more private, but when she saw all her friends converging in an orgy, she realized what an unnecessary extra step that was. The lizard girl turned her head, and her upper body, and she looked at the stud; his best input was a simple shrug, and so she grabbed one of his big, meaty hands, and she dragged him over to the action.

--23

Even in the domineering kiss Bevan was exacting upon her, Tucker glanced to the side, and she grinned when she saw Elise coming with a well-hung, erect stallion. She didn't wonder if they were going to join in or not; it didn't seem to be a question of if with any of them.

She broke free of the kiss, but she nuzzled into Bevan's handsome face and ground her body into his, rumbling and growling the message of her submission in ways that the hare could easily understand. Harder and more possessively, he palmed and groped her ass, and she was ever appreciative, the bobbed stump of her tail wagging over the behind that Bevan so lewdly squeezed.

Tucker pushed against Bevan, who grunted, but started to backpedal at the Doberman bitch's suggestion. His rear bumped into the table that Violet was getting spit-roasted on. Made curious of the bolted-down table's jerking, Bevan turned left and saw Varg, who regarded him with a smirk; blushing, he looked the other way, and saw Artica - blushing, her eyes closed - and Desmond, who winked cutely his way. "Orgy?" he asked Tucker dumbly, who just shrugged and did away with her pants and panties - then she tugged off what Bevan was wearing on his legs, but she let the hare keep his shirt.

--24

Already, Desmond started to knot Artica, and he didn't fear Tucker this time around, yet that was to be his downfall.

The Doberman bitch was submissive to Bevan, but not to Desmond, and her interest from watching him dance hadn't waned in the least. If anything, it had grown more intense, spurred on by the sex she'd already gotten and the jealousy of watching Desmond fuck Artica. After she undressed Bevan and herself, she snatched the foxcoon, who dislodged from the jogauni in a yelp.

Artica's eyes snapped open, but when she saw that Desmond was in Tucker's capable paws, she just smiled impishly and turned her full attention to Violet's maw.

"C'mere," Tucker said to Bevan as she dragged Desmond to the floor, where she pinned the sissy fox with a boot on his chest. She didn't harm the tod, but she assured him that she was going to be obeyed, and that was that.

Bevan, humbled toward Tucker again, yet intrigued and hungry for more of her, walked over as the Doberman requested. His boldness had gone away, but Tucker knew it would come back with just a little effort. She kissed the handsome rabbit, and then she stepped off of Desmond; before the fox could get any bright ideas about escaping, she squatted and straddled the foxcoon's face, the wet folds of her cunt grinding against his cool nose. He shuddered, but he obeyed this unspoken command, and he began to lap. Tucker grabbed Bevan by the hips, a low and resonant growl in her chest, the sound of pleasure and lust, and she engulfed his cock in her maw.

The rabbit threw his head back for a moan, and he absently set his paws on the back of the Doberman's skull; rather than try to resist his grip, she rewarded his touch with hard, noisy sucks and fervent bobs of her head. And then, to reward the other boy tending to her, she pressed her hot and dripping snatch down into his face harder still.

Beneath the frightening bitch, Desmond lapped and slurped, his tongue-borne affections not limited just to the dog's cunt; some of his slobbery, unruly licks smeared saliva across her asshole, others over her inner thighs, but the end result was a well-licked Doberman, and Tucker was content with the large tongue the foxcoon bitch-boy had.

--25

Naturally, Elise gravitated to Tucker, her closest friend, a partner in mischief. She looked at the foxcoon that had been commandeered, and she thought his feminine body was cute, even though it was a far cry from the ultra-masculine stud she'd brought along, who was still throbbing and waiting for more action. He's no horse, Elise thought as she glanced at the fox, stripping out of her clothes in short order, but he'll work...

Desmond's cock throbbed and oozed with slippery, musky pre, and he was still sore about being yanked out of the loving warmth of Artica's cunt, but Elise was as good a girl as any to take up the mantle. The tod didn't get the lizard's cunt, however; that was for the equine stud. Facing away from Tucker's back, Elise straddled the coonfox, her sneaker-clad feet on either side of his hips, and she let his meat part her cold, shapely ass cheeks. It didn't take her long to start impaling herself on his canine manhood, nor was it all that difficult after all of the stallion cocks she'd tempered all of her orifices with, but to have anything at all inside of her was pleasing.

The fox was enjoying himself, too; he let out a long and content moan at the feeling of Elise's tight asshole around his hot, throbbing cock, the snug entrance stretched and pressed into his knot, but she hadn't yet made any attempt to take that inside. Spurred on by the loving, tight grip of Elise's anal passage, Desmond lapped harder into Tucker's cunt. No longer lapping the surface, he forced his tongue inside of the Doberman's hot pussy, and she clenched down and moaned hotly to the fox. In a vicious cycle, she bobbed and slobbered harder on Bevan's swollen, drooling dick, and the rabbit was starting to realize he had absolute power over the dog.

--26

Situated on Desmond's hips, her snug behind clenched upon that pink, tapering cock, Elise let out a happy sigh, and then she beckoned her southern stallion meat, who had been waiting with a lewd grin on his big muzzle.

He didn't need any instructions; he was fairly sure he knew what the lizard girl wanted. He was of the opinion that she wanted cock, any cock she could get; a slut, but he rather liked sluts. And Elise was a slut indeed, but only for horses. Desmond was the rare exception, an excuse to be involved in the orgy, but not one who minded his tenuous link in any way.

The stallion, still hard, still grinning, and still wearing most of his g-string, knelt and straddled the small foxcoon's legs. He would have recognized the fox had Tucker and Elise not been obscuring his body, but this wouldn't have changed his behavior in the least. Clutching his cock around the middle, he pressed his flared tip to Elise's waiting cunt, and he started to sink his drippy manhood.

He did so in relative silence, emitting only a low, pleasurable rumble, but Elise gasped and cooed in contentment, and she wrapped her arms around the stallion's neck while both of her tight passages clutched the two members tightly.

Desmond shuddered and groaned at this new tightness, and he paid it forward to Tucker; with his sissy paws worshiping her body, stroking her hips, flanks, and breasts, he lapped deeper and harder into her cunt. The first inch of his snout disappeared into her snatch, and his tongue lapped to untold depths, over flesh that Tucker wasn't aware even existed.

Tucker shuddered and shook, and she ground her dripping folds down into the twink's face, taking in a little bit more of his snout, partially smothering him in only the best way. She tried to bob on Bevan's meat, but she found that that was denied; the rabbit had other plans, and he chose then to start fucking the Doberman's trash-talking mouth.

Bevan's technique needed practice, but Tucker appreciated the dominion of it. He clutched her with one paw on an ear, the other beneath her chin, and he simply pounded into her mouth. His balls, not yet drawn up for an orgasm, were allowed to smack into the bitch's chin now and again.

By then, the dog was in heaven. Her orgasm wasn't far off, when she'd splatter her honey all over that faggy foxcoon's face, and she had a handsome rabbit facefucking her; there wasn't much else she could ask for.

--27

Artica glanced back at the lewd chaos that was taking place just a foot away. That cute fox that had been fucking her was reduced to a seat on both ends, Elise was double-stuffed, an Tucker had turned into a whimpering bitch; it was an absurd night. A night to remember. And a night to experiment some more, she suggested to herself.

The jogauni pulled out of Violet's sucking maw, her shaft oozing with pre. She spared a glance across the table at Varg, still hammering away at Violet with his most basic stroke, but the tiger's squishing and squelching cunt didn't seem to mind. By the way she was whimpering and gasping, Artica guessed - correctly - that the feline had gotten off at least a few times, but the vulpine creature didn't feel jealous, though she did intend to get her cut of that action.

Forgetting about her inhibitions, Artica climbed up onto the table, and she knelt near its' edge, facing Varg; this left her shapely ass and the folds of her cunt in Violet's face, but she was compliant and content. As long as Varg was fucking her, she would've tolerated anything.

Varg regarded Artica with a subtle nod, a gesture that said sup?, but he never once ceased his thrusts; Artica found his pace admirable, and his hard body irresistible Letting her shaft dip into Violet's cleavage, exposed by the neck of her tight beater, Artica reached out and grabbed Varg's shoulders, then she forced a kiss upon him.

Varg blinked, but he started to return the kiss a second later. Just like the kiss she'd shared with Desmond, she slobbered and lapped over the domineering lupine's tongue. Meanwhile, she ground her cunt back into Violet's face, who started to lap across those folds and the snug pucker close by with the sandpapery surface of her tongue. Artica had already enjoyed that tongue on her cock; feeling it on her sensitive entrances made her tremble and ooze her pre into the feline's cleavage. Not long after that, the jogauni put her paws upon those breasts, groping them tightly through the thin fabric, and she squeezed them together around her knotted cock.

--28

Bevan and the stallion both had something in common; they were well on their way to their climaxes already, and unlike Varg, they didn't have inexhaustible endurance. As the rabbit humped into Tucker's subservient maw and the horse plowed into Elise's accommodating and cold cunt, they both panted and groaned, nearing their climaxes quickly.

Tucker and Elise weren't all that far from their orgasms, either. For the dog, the dominance of a handsome rabbit and the overachieving tongue of a sissy fox were incredibly gratifying. For Elise, having a stallion's massive cock in her snatch and his hard body rubbing against her own was enough; Desmond's knotted, throbbing penis was only icing on her cake.

Elise moaned and gasped the praises of the stallion's cock; Desmond's canine dick, not so much, yet she appreciated it. She kissed and nuzzled the stallion as he pumped her harder and faster, his hot and heavy balls smacking up into the foxcoon's and dragging on the tile floor. Very soon, the lizard girl started to tremble, and a few moments later, Tucker began to do the same; it was the very same feeling that Bevan and the stallion felt, and a few feet away, Violet felt the same way for a fourth time. Even Varg had begun to feel it.

--29

Huffing through his nostrils, noisily sucking and slurping in Artica's muzzle, Varg plowed Violet's cunt as though he were the sole owner of it; the way Violet gave it up to him, it was natural for him to make this assumption.

The pretty jogauni thrust her cock in and out of the saber-tooth tiger's cleavage, and she savored the rough laps over her cunt and her tail hole, which Violet saw fit to give her - not to mention the tiger's paws on her hips.

In a moment that seemed like it had taken centuries to come that evening, Varg pounded his knot against the tiger, his motions growing stiff and labored, his breathing in the kiss reduced to sharp snatches for breath. With a sudden and wet noise, a sloppy slurp of shifting moisture and a spreading cunt, Varg wedged his knot between the hot folds between Violet's legs, and he tied her with a resounding snarl that shook Artica to the core and made her shiver.

Violet yowled out from beneath Artica and came for a fourth and a final time that night, her juices squirting out around the wolf's knot under incredible pressure; simultaneously, shuddering and shaking, Varg shot a jet of hot, fertile, and futile jizz into the writhing, well-loved tiger, satiating his desire and her own. He eased out of the kiss, and he looked Artica in the eyes; the jogauni could only smile, and still, she rubbed her shaft into the feline's breasts - but she didn't think that was what would get her off that night.

--30

Everybody watching turned their gazes to the other writing bodies. Desmond, pinned haplessly and happily with a lizard on one end, a dangerous dog bitch on the other, and those two ladies respectively plugged by a horse and a rabbit.

Bevan grunted and panted hard as he gave his best to Tucker's bitchy, but now subservient maw; he squeezed hard on that chin and pinched her ear tightly, and he bore his teeth in a grimace as he hammered with everything he had. His spurts of pre were heavy, and they wet the Doberman's throat well, but that was only a taste of what was just around the corner; his balls had started to draw up to the warmth of his loins, and he closed his eyes tight.

Similarly, but less aggressively, the stallion fucked Elise in a manner most satisfactory to her. He snorted and grunted as he bore down on her and pressed his hard body against her own, and he savored the feeling of her cold hide on his hot, furred flesh, her modest breasts deforming against his iron muscles, but her chilled cunt was the best thing of all. Snug, writhing, begging for his seed in ways beyond words, he knew he wouldn't be denying that pussy any longer. Like Bevan, he grimaced and he closed his eyes tight. His balls had already pulled up into the crook of his legs.

While Bevan gasped and fed Tucker a mighty load of his rabbit jizz, the horse snorted, snuffled, and pumped Elise's cunt full of thick, equine cream, so much that it oozed out and splattered around her thighs, then down onto Desmond's crotch, bathing his balls in sticky warmth.

The lizard sighed dreamily, and her slender body shook with the slow burn of an orgasm, one that she'd been waiting on for a very long time. It made her clench hard on Desmond's shaft, yet she still neglected his knot; it simply wasn't what she wanted. She's already gotten what she was after, and she stayed pressed close to the horse.

Bevan's release was less satisfying to Tucker as the horse's was to Elise, but she still enjoyed it greatly, and after the fact, she kissed and licked over the rabbit's cock in contentment, treating it like a lollipop. Beneath, Desmond still lapped over the deepest reaches of her cunt, and that was finally about to pay off; with some obscenity uttered under her breath, she nuzzled into the rabbit's spent crotch, and she grimaced tight. The orgasm that struck her was nowhere near as placid as Elise's, forcing her to cry out, but this tapered into a lusty snarl. She splattered her female juices all over the tod's snout and into his maw, and shortly after that, she flopped off of the fox and lay upon the tile floor, panting.

Desmond winced when Tucker came, but gasped when she pulled off of his muzzle, formerly wedged a respectable depth into her cunt. His face was smeared with Doberman juices, and his cock, though comfortable in the lizard's ass, was a ways from gratification.

Artica stepped down from the table, her own shaft still swollen, her cunt still wet, her eyes still gleaming with a clear desire. With a gently worded request to Elise and her equine friend, the lizard was lifted from Desmond's knotted cock slowly and carefully; with that member exposed, the jogauni smiled, and she straddled the cute foxcoon.

The others all turned their eyes to the foxcoon and the jogauni, and they watched with the rest of the club as the two vulpine creatures finished up.