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Beep. Beep. Beeee...

The collie sighed and closed his laptop, rubbing the bridge of his muzzle. "Well, that's the end of the batteries. Not gonna get any more work done until someone gets the blessed power back up." He was obviously frustrated, though his nature didn't lend itself to blind anger; it was mostly the timing--a deadline on his latest stories--that was making the sudden summer blackout a lot less tolerable.

"It's gonna happen, sugar," the skunk in the doorway said, slipping up behind her beau and draping her arms down his chest. 'Summer around here means everybody turns on their air conditioning, an' next thing ya know, boom, out go the lights." She giggled softly and nosed her partner's ear. "Besides, Colin, you've been on that contraption for weeks. I'm starting to think you like it more than me." She gave a little mock pout and shuffled her feet, dropping the whole façade when ten fingers found her ribs and attacked them with tickles.

"How could I like a computer more than you? You're a damned silly girl, thinking that some box of wires and stuff could replace could have your smile, your laugh, your cooking, or that saucy little wiggle you get when you're thinking hard..." He gave a stroke over those hips, drawing up a slight sigh from the femme perching herself on his lap.

"Why Colin Delaney, have you been eyeing my behind? Tsk tsk...my mama warned me about boys like you." She eased herself just a little closer, pressing her lips to her husband's.

Mama DuBoix had done just that, had she ever. Wasn't right for a civilized mephit like her daughter to go gallivanting about with any dogs, 'specially one that wasn't a Creole like every other member of the family. But Celeste was not going to be swayed from her affection for the strapping young writer from Baltimore, down on a research trip to see the sights of the Bayou. Besides, she knew damn well Mama's pissing and moaning was just because she'd never become Gramma DuBoix. Shame about genetics, but love was not gonna be denied.

Or various other urges, the kiss amplifying with everyone second that went by. They'd only been married a year now, just long enough to get a house and move their things together. It wasn't a lavish affair, but between Celeste's Nursing and Colin's books they were doing just fine. So to think that the pair were busily undressing the other, a set of brown hands underneath a thin cotton t-shirt while a lovely backside ground itself into her his thighs...well, it wasn't much of a reach.

They barely even blinked when Colin's desk chair, not really suited for such activities, turned to one side and promptly deposited both parties on their respective asses. Instead, Colin gave a bark and a playful growl, wrapping his fingers into Celeste's shorts and yanking, leaving the black and white beauty naked from the waist down. One pull of a hem later and she took care of the rest, bust bouncing slightly as she moved.

Colin's eyebrow quirked, running his hands along his lover's sides and her naked hips. "No panties or bra? You naughty thing," he said with a wide smirk, angling his muzzle up and kissing the crown of a breast.

"Ah...it's hot out today, even for a Southern girl like me. And with you strutting' about in those shorts and no shirt, mmm, it ain't getting no colder." Thin fingers undid the fly on the collie's sport shorts and reached inside, teasing his member out, tall, pink, and proud, with the crown a little shiny from his quickly building excitement. Celeste grinned and rubbed a fingertip over the head in appreciation. "Every time I see this, it's like the first time..."

The canine on the bottom laughed and shook his head. "And you've been getting your dialogue from porn movies again." He shifted his hips underneath the skunk, leaving his lush coat and maleness free for Celeste to use as she pleased, the scent of randy skunk mingling with that of canine musk. "So how does my Cajun queen want it, hmm? I live only to serve you," Colin said with an air of mock regality as he watched Celeste move away from and towards the bed, sprawling herself out on the comforter, knees spread out and tail high. It was one of Colin's buttons, seeing her black sex spread wide under the her wide plume of a tail, the white stripes almost serving as guiding arrows to where she wanted his dick.

"Take me, hard and fast," she said in the lustiest on she knew, seducing her husband just that one step further as her hips swayed gently. "Fill me your manhood and tell me that you love me, but not with words..." Her finger traced over her slit then drew back to be suckled at, tongue curling around the digit.

Colin didn't need more motivation than he'd already gotten, and that bolster to his ego made his cock twitch in anticipation as the collie slipped up behind his love, a hand grooming through her tail while the other aimed his smaller head at her steadily moistening passage. "Far be it for me to deny my lady her due..." He leaned forward pressing his teeth to the skunk's nape as he pressed his hips to hers, hilting nearly the entirety of his cock into with one strong stroke. While not endowed like some of the mutants one might find up on the Internet, Colin was no small dog and, Celeste was a smaller girl, leaving her hissing from the sudden blunt stimulation, shifting her weight as her hair fell into her eyes.

"Your...queen likes your...tribute," she managed to gasp out through a clenched jaw, punctuating the last word with a long, low moan, hips raising and head lowering. Colin pushed his tempo, growling into her ear as his hips smacked and his balls swung low beneath their coupling, thighs already growing matted with combined fluids. Neither would last long at this pace, but the point was not to hold this forever, but rather to ravish the other--this was not love making, it was fucking of the highest order.

Celeste positively vibrated underneath Colin, her eyes unfocused and body tensed. He knew her best spots, twisting and shifting his body to stroke at her depths from an entire army of new places, and when his thumb stroked the numb of her clit the skunk chirped loudly before letting go of a scream that tried to shake the very rafters of heaven or at the least left Colin's sensitive ears ringing. He paid it little mind, lifting his torso as his pelvis drilled as deeply into the mephit as his length would allow.

His grunt punctuated the end of the "festivities" such as they were, an attempt to say something witty or silly that melted into to a guttural sound. It was followed by his own muscles sizing, filling the panting Celeste with a payload of his spunk, the skunk sighing as she felt her abused pussy fill with an warm, tangible indication of her husband's unending love for her. While they may never have children, he was always more than content to go through the initial processes, something they relished a bit more than the average couple.

The rush of an orgasms concluded, Colin rolled over and nuzzled gently at the skunk's ears, bathing in her scent and warmth, content for the moment. It was a moment which passed quickly, both coming down to earth and remembering the 120 degree heat which had permeated the house in the absence of power. The pair scrambled quickly towards the shower, coating themselves in cold water before the temperature drove them mad.

"Well," Colin muttered as he tried feebly to dry himself off with a towel, the thickness of his pelt holding water far too well. "We should figure out dinner. We can't cook anything here, not like this."

"And everything from here to Cyldestone is blacked out, so it'd be a two hour drive just for fast food." Both cringed at the very thought of fighting through traffic, weather damage, and downed stoplights to enjoy a crappy burger and cold fries in a greasy restaurant miles and miles away. They bounced ideas at each other, but nothing seemed to really catch either of their attention, when suddenly Celeste's face lit up and she bounced on her toes, still quite naked. "You've still got those patties, right?"

Colin tilted his head and nodded. "Yeah, but I can't really cook them. No stove, no broiler, no oven, remember?"

"We have the gas grill. The tank is still full from last summer, isn't it?"

"I'd have to cook in the dark. We don't have any lights either."

The skunked bounced one more time, tossing on a blouse and scampering past her confused husband. "You leave that part to me. Meet me in out front in twenty minutes with the meat."

True to her word, there Celeste was in twenty minutes almost exactly, a number of folks from around the neighborhood following close behind with an array of boxes, bags, and one even appeared to have a dolly of what looked like...beer?

Colin turned to his wife and whispered in her ear, still as confused as he had been before. "Cel, honey, what's going on? Who are these people?"

The mephit smiled proudly, looking around. "They're our neighbors! I knew we couldn't be the only ones suffering, so I figured we'd all come out an' have us a meal together."

Celeste dragged Colin around like a child, introducing him to people. Here was Patterson the butcher, a boar of a huge humor and equally large gut, carrying enough steaks and sausages to feed a militia. Delilah Bloom, a lovely mink and sadly widowed a few years before, had offered some of her husband's old equipment, work lights and a generator that would more than keep the lawn lit for hours. The Dixons appeared like a horde, a group of rabbits who toted around what Daddy Dixon touted as the freshest produce in the county, and Colin was hard-pressed to think otherwise. And lastly but in no ways least was Gustav Hoffstein, the owner of the only combination brewery, restaurant, and liquor store in the state. The immense Bulgarian bruin had wheeled over enough liquor to break down the inhibitions of the strongest wills and was happily passing around steins and mugs emblazoned with the logo of his establishment, The Bruinhaus.

Colin was awestruck--at the people, the food, and the way it had just suddenly pulled itself together. Celeste beamed and simply said "Southern hospitality!" before fading into the crowd to mingle. The collie gave a sigh and a laugh, moving himself behind the grill and getting the first burgers started.

The party reached into the night, the bodies in attendance changing but the population of Colin's yard never growing smaller. His stay behind the food preparation had been brief, the position taken over by Patterson and his team of self-proclaimed "meat masters". He was more than happy to be free of the intense heat and responsibility, swinging into the crowd and seeing who was interesting.

The answer was, it proved, most of them. A family foxes showed up around 8 o'clock with a sound system, and while the women (and more than a few men) demonstrated their talents, flexibility, and rather impressive bodies on the dance floor, Colin traded "shop talk" with one of the sons, a slender tod of some twenty years named Rochester. He was as flouncy as Colin had ever seen a man, positively flaming, but his knowledge of all things literary was positively astounding, the pair trading trivia and such as if they'd known each other forever.

Eventually it came to pass that Colin mentioned his own work, and Rochester suddenly went wide-eyed. "You're the Colin Delaney? Oh, you're just simply amazing! Your reinterpretations of Tolkien-esque fantasy within the spheres of Shakespearean drama and modern class warfare was just mind-boggling! Epsilon desperately needs more writers of your caliber!" The tod clapped his hands together and continued gushing gleefully over nearly every word of Colin's portfolio while the collie blushed a bit and tried to play it off. He'd never dealt with a fan of any sort, and this fox was one to behold.

He turned at the touch of a hand on his shoulder, facing eye to eye with Celeste, smiling softly at the reflection of stars in her grey eyes. She returned the smile, a good deal wider and just the slightest bit drunkenly, the skunk waving a bottle of something as she spoke. "Who's your friend, Colin? Introduce me!"

"Rochester Barnes. He's apparently a fan of my work. I didn't know I had any!" he added with a laugh before turning back to the fox. "Rochester, this is my wife, Celeste." The tod's mood suddenly fell, his face crestfallen and down-key, giving little more than a cursory nod and a barely audible "enchanted" to the skunk.

Celeste, however, was completely oblivions to the displeased look and kissed Colin on the cheek. "He's my biggest fan," she said with a giggle before turning and retreating into the crowd again.

Colin watched her for a moment then turned back to Rochester. "Is everything alright? You look like someone just killed your cat."

The fox flinched slightly before sighing dramatically. "Yes, I'm fine, but...it's going to sound dumb, but...I thought...you were, um, you know..." Rochester fished for words, flipping his wrist around a bit in the stereotypical gesture. "...like...that way."

Colin choked on his sandwich. "You thought I was gay?" he gasped, louder than he had wanted to, and Rochester's ears flattened against his skull.

"Yes. Yes I did. You...just..." The words still weren't coming, and Rochester looked as though he were about to burst into tears. "I saw photos of you, on the Internet, and I-I thought you were like me! You're such a beautiful man I just hoped..."

Colin paused and put his hand to his chest. "You think I'm beautiful?"

"How could I not? Your hair, your amazing fur, your poise and your way with words,

I...I..." The sentence died again in midstream.

"You've fantasized about me?" Colin wasn't quite sure where those words had come from, but they were there, and what he said seemed to get the fox's interest.

Rochester gave a small nod, calming down. "Of...of course. I always wondered what I'd do if I met you, but it wasn't going to happen. I always told myself that. But now I have, and I want to thank you for being such an amazing writer." The words were rushed and clumsy, until the last few became calm, metered, and sultry, the fox still looking sheepish and slightly ashamed, watching Colin's face.

Colin set his sandwich down and looked around, his mind whirring but his mouth paying it no mind, speaking almost without as if it had a mind of its own. "And how did you plan to show your appreciation, Rochester? I mean you're my first fan, so I'm not sure about the protocol. You'll have to lend me a hand."

The fey fox lit up like a child and before Colin could say a single word his arm was being used as an impromptu lead while the surprisingly strong male led him through the crowd towards an area of the patio that was devoid of partiers. The collie's face must have been a mixture of abject fear, shock, and maybe a little something else, all reinforced by the shaking heads and sly grins from those they went past. Hell, Colin would almost have sworn that Hoffstein applauded as the pair whipped past him, Colin pleading ineffectually for the race to slow down just a bit.

Suddenly it stopped, Colin nearly losing his balance as the tod pushed him against a wall, one soft palm against the collie's steadily swelling member, the bulge in his board shorts growing ever larger. "Someone's not nearly as straight as they pretend, hmm? And please, call me Ro. Rochester is so formal and hard to say while you're moaning..." Ro's voice had gone from frightened and wobbly to sing-song like a wind chime, more flamboyant and dripping with confidence.

Colin took a deep breath and put on his best calm smile, his tail flagging out behind him, wagging despite his very best efforts to not look like a happy puppy with a treat. "Ro it is then. And I just said I was married. You're the one who assumed I that meant anything else."

Ro laughed and unzipped Colin's fly, still using a delicate palm and immaculately manicured fingers to tease at a still-hidden prick, the fox giving an appreciative "ah" as the head made its appearance. "Well played, Mr. Delaney, but now it's time to come to the meat of the discussion." Ro slid the shorts down just to mid-knee, putting his tongue to work quickly at slathering the male's balls in saliva. "As much as I'd love this under my tail, I don't think this is the time or place. So we'll have to settle for the oral dissertation." The tod's muzzle slid delicately down, the slim feature fitting Colin in with relative ease.

"I...don't s-see a problem," Colin all but moaned out, trying but entirely failing to keep his voice controlled. His eyes closed softly and he rested his weight against the warm brick behind him, feeling agile fingers run over his ass and thighs. It had been more than a while since his last time playing about with another man, but he could safely say that tods still gave the absolutely best head, his cock warm and throbbing in Ro's muzzle.

Ro was not unaware of his skill either, popping off the collie's member with an audible sound, running his tongue over his lips theatrically. "My my. The tastiest sausage on the menu tonight has to be the Collie Dog. It gets my most...wholehearted recommendation." Soft lips and a warm tongue bathed Colin's cock, the comparatively cooler night air making him shiver as a fox he'd just met devoured his member again, evening chill replaced by a gentle scrape of teeth and the ring of Ro's throat, Colin's hands clenching into fists.

He managed, if just barely, to provide a weak response, looking down at Ro with a slack jawed expression. "Keep that up, and this will...oh damn...this will be a rather short story," Colin's voice a throaty pant that stuttered as Ro squeezed at his ball sac, train of thought struggling to find the track again and nearly plowing through an errant station.

The presentation ended on an unexpected note, however, Colin pushed to finalize their meeting and mating was the slim finger that snaked its way under his tail and grazed a particular point of sensitive flesh hidden there. Celeste had used this tactic on more than one occasion to make her hubby blow spectacularly, and this time was no different despite the new players involved the collie hunching forward with abs tensed under a sea of fluffy white fur. A hand grabbed the back of Ro's head and held him in place while a pulsing member fed the fox a stream of come; the fox, to his credit, handled this without a break in his rhythm or pace, sucking down every single drop with a professional flex of his throat, giving just that little extra bit of stimulation that made Colin faint in the knees.

The afterglow passed, and finally Ro stood up, licking at the back of his hands and fingers like a cat. "Delectable," he mused, turning away from Colin and striding with an immense swish of his tail, hips swaying in a figure-eight. How he had managed it the poor addled dog could not begin to puzzle out, but it was clear that Ro had removed his pants during their session, the puddle of semen on the concrete marking where he had spent the last few minutes pleasuring Colin. Ro turned his head over his shoulder and smiled wide, teeth gleaming and the tip of his tongue sticking out as he bent over to fetch his underwear, the plush curves of his ass and spent member on blatant display, the invitation making Colin's heart skip a beat. "Keep the subscriber bonuses in mind, Mr. Delaney, if you decide to join our little literary society." Ro pulled his slacks up and tucked himself away, stopping to lick Colin's cheek. "And don't you dare stop writing, my favorite author." Then he was gone, mingling with the crowd as though the last minutes hadn't just happened.

A small gasp from his side brought Colin back to earth, the canine realizing that he was still standing about the property with his member dangling half-limp between his thighs. A quick zip later he dashed towards the inside of house, not bothering to see who had seen him in all his natural glory.

Colin did his best to get back into the gala affair, startled as he came out of the house that it was still going strong after a few hours. The food was still coming out just as fast as ever, and the rather impressive array of deceptively strong booze kept everyone in high spirits, no pun intended. Colin had taken to a conversation about wives and women, finding that the general consensus about the neighborhood was that he'd married a girl who was, without a doubt, the finest catch in the entire state.

"Y'never get better than a Creole queen," a buck in a faded sports jersey said, nodding his impressive rack of antlers as he spoke. "God's best women in all ways and forms."

"Dunno. Everyone wants one, but they have those wandering eyes and unbreakable spirits. Mercurial critters, my ma used to say," Father Dixon of the rabbits said, face stern.

Colin laughed a bit, shaking his head and finishing off another bottle of beer, grinning wide and proud at the compliments laid on his wife. "She's my pride and joy, and lemme tell you, I wouldn't have it any other damn way." He looked around, admiring the scenery with a crane of his head. "Speaking of Celeste, has anyone seen her?"

The sound of the screen door caught his ears, and Colin turned just in time to catch his wife strutting out onto the lawn, sucking at the straw in her beer. "I was a little overheated, so I changed into something more summer-friendly. Hope it meets your approval, sweetie." Gone was the blouse and capris she'd spent most of the party in, instead replaced by a pair of shorts cut so high on her hips that a positively heart-stopping amount of rump bounced free from under the rear hem, creating the most deliciously hypnotic effect as she walked about with an exaggerated sway of her hips. Her chest, in turn, was covered with a bikini top that Colin wasn't aware she even owned, looking a good size too small for the skunk as it struggled to hold her modest bust in place with nipples just a bit perky under the fabric. With her hair tied up in pigtails and feet clad in a pair of bright yellow flip-flops, his normally at least slightly modest housewife and nurse looked like some frat boy's Spring Break wet dream.

He grabbed at Celeste's arm, pulling her over with a snug grip, whispering in her rounded ear. "Are you drunk? Are you crazy? What are you doing, dressed like this? You look like a tramp--"

She placed the tip of her finger against his lips, stopping his short tirade, and gave him a mock pout, shuffling her feet while the big spade of her tail swished through the night air. "I just wanted to have a little fun," she said, giving a little baby-talk lisp with giggle and a shrug. "I'm a big girl, and I'm only a little bit drunk. I just wanted to see this party out with the loudest bang I can!" She winked and slinked off into the crowd to mingle with the remaining guests.

"Dude. Your wife should totally do porn. I'd hit that so hard--" Colin shot a glare at the overweight wolf who'd fired the comment, shutting him up and leaving the poor canine to slink back into the crowd. Colin couldn't deny though that the man was right, and despite his best efforts to be mad he wasn't at all, even watching his wife pressed tightly against someone she'd just met tonight. She was just having fun, and he couldn't ignore the fact that even in the middle of the night it was sweltering.

Rather than stew in the situation, Colin went back to the party, choosing to enjoy another amazing burger and a beer from the stash that just kept itself full no matter what. The mix of buzz and exhaustion started to work itself at the edges of Colin's awareness, and when Celeste came back into the crowd at nearly midnight and stood on a cooler, he thought nothing of anything she'd done, hooting and hollering along with the rest.

"So listen up, y'all! It's damn near midnight, and some of us have shit we got to do in the morning! So now's the time we end this gathering in the best way the DuBoix girls knows how--a fuck before you fuck off!"

Colin's brain shifted sideways, fighting through the beer haze as he tried to rationalize what Celeste was up to, the mephit parading through the crowd, almost as if shopping for a man. Her eyes lit up, and she clapped her hands, pulling a blushing hare out of the mass and over to a cooler where she sat down. "So, honey, this your first time?" The hare nodded nervously, looking around with a weak smile, blushing so hard he could light the sky like Rudolph. But what did she mean about a first time? Then Colin noticed the black hand, openly kneading the hare's groin, teasing him openly...

"So what's your name, honey? I like to know who's riding me. Just one of my things." So she was...she was going to have sex with this random teen, right here, right now, in front of God and country. Had she been planning this all night long?

"Dex," the hare mumbled, giving a little shudder and blushing even harder as Celeste's fingers that Colin was so familiar with pulled down on a pair of brightly colored swim trunks, leaving the boy standing twice over to the cheers of a most appreciative audience. Colin even had to give the buck some credit; the kid would have a future in adult videos and at the very least a rather happy girlfriend.

Celeste was no less appreciative of Dex, making a show of fawning over the cock in her hands, the nervous male already hard and just about to blow from the skunk's brief contact. "Now don't you go and pop your top just yet..." Her voice was pure honey, smaller form rising up from the cooler to push Dex down into a lawn chair, one hand guiding the hare while the other reached behind her and undid the knot holding her top shut, letting her breasts swing as she whirled the scrap of fabric over her head and hollered like this was some kind of rodeo. Colin just stood dumbfounded, unblinking. He'd never seen Celeste act like this before and while he full well understood the idea of free hospitality and that sort of thing was his wife really going to fuck a random guy? While people watched? Colin finally blinked, coming to a sudden realization: he wasn't concerned over the acts his wife was hinting at, grinding Dex's face into her breasts with her shorts lying forgotten on the ground and only a bikini bottom trying to keep her decent while she sat in this stranger's uncovered lap. It was the situation and its newness: he'd never expected to be part of some exhibitionist's pleasure trip or to have his wife to be the person in question, the prize for a lucky so-and-so. And once it was put that way, he didn't mind at all. It made Celeste happy and he knew in his heart that this wasn't going to cost him her love. He also had to admit that what the collie was watching had him hard as steel in his shorts, and he was hardly alone in that. This just proved what he already knew: everyone loved Celeste DuBoix, and that was magic to Colin Delaney.

Dismissing even the merest thought of a protest, Colin took another draw of his beer, only realizing that Hoffman had put it there when the bear gave him a slap on the shoulder "Back home, we are not having women like yours! You are very lucky man, Colin Delaney. And I am thinking very tired man!" Hoffman laughed as he walked away, a great booming sound that almost distracted attention from the hand tucked away in his pocket, rubbing a completely different sort of sausage, and away from the cacophony ringing out all around him.

Those noises recaptured Colin's eyes, the dog turning his attention back to Celeste and Dex, eyes going just that little bit wider as his wife and lover turned around and lifted up on her knees, teasing the poor hare's member through the split in her rear, hot dogging him like some sort of high paid lap dancer. She'd shucked the poor excuse for panties, hanging them from the hare's floppy ear, a damn silly sight in an otherwise unbelievable situation. Had his girl been a dancer before? He'd have to ask about it.

Celeste paused her bouncing, giving the audience a look like she wanted to fuck them all, hungry and wild under her tussled white hair. The scent in the air was summer trees, flowers, meat, beer, and pure sex, a miasma of a dozen or more arousals all intermingled and tickling at Colin's especially sensitive nose, nostrils flaring as he took it all in. Somewhere, hidden but not to his keen senses, someone had already taken to coupling, giving the collie a reason to grin to himself. People would talk about this party for days, he knew it.

The performer on the seat let herself down, one hand under her so that anyone close enough to watch could see Dex slowly spear her, the mephit biting her lip as she was spread open, black petals swollen in a way Colin had seen before up close more than a few times. Once Dex was in her, the girl wasted no time on subtlety, riding her bucking partner fast, turning up her moans until the whole block could plainly hear her cries of passion. The crowd had gone silent, enthralled by the show, a few squeezing thighs or trying to hide tents behind trays or plates though most were content to show off their appreciation without shame.

Ultimately, Dex was the "loser "in the great race to orgasm. The poor hare had been teased to nearly popping off already and Colin had to hand it to him for lasting ten minutes in a pussy that had ended him several times before. Celeste looked ever so slightly disappointed, collecting some spunk from the joining of their groins and licking it from her fingers. "Let's all give a hand to Dex!" Celeste cried out, pulling herself free slowly, come dripping down her thigh. "What a way to lose your cherry, huh? You're welcome." She laughed and gave the hare two kisses, one on each head, waving as he walked away with a wobble towards a small throng of cheering friends.

"I got next." The voice that cut through the hollering was loud, coarse and full of strength, enough to give Colin a taste of fear about its owner. The wolf who strode forth deserved a voice like that, a thickly muscled beast that looked like he won bar brawls between sets of dead lifts. He looked over to Colin and shifted his package with one hand, the collie noticing whoever this was damn near needed both hands was almost hanging out of his spandex shorts, a pair of baseball-sized testicles pushing the fabric out obscenely. "You cool with that?" he asked, as if "no" was going to be an acceptable answer. Colin just nodded dumbly when he was felt a hand graze up his thigh, ears perking up--it was that same scent he'd picked up moments ago, a delightful floral perfume with a cinnamon edge trying hard to mask the smell of a mink in heat and the strong stink of fresh horse come.

Colin craned his neck to face Delilah Bloom, who gave him a small, secretive smile, fingers delicately grazing the line of his manhood. "I think it's only fair, my dears, for both parties responsible for this lovely affair to be allowed to indulge themselves, Mr. Richardson." He voice was the southern belle epitomized, the confident drawl of a traditional debutante who was intended to get whatever it was she wanted. From the way her hand had clutched Colin's member through his shorts that something was going to be him. "Don't you agree?"

Richardson gave a shrug, looking around. "Don't make no difference to me," he grunted, walking over to Celeste with an undeniably dominant stride as Delilah guided Colin to the center of the "arena" that had formed. A sharp prick of teeth sent his ear flicking as the widow whispered to him. "I saw you and that deviant of a fox earlier this evening, and I must say I am quite enamored of you. Since my husband passed away, I've kept myself quite the pure grieving widow. But the very sight of you after that scheming little reynard was done with you brought a wetness to me that I've not felt since I was a little girl." She guided his hand her skirt, the fabric riding up as Colin felt the warm heat of her sex, the mink growling at him over the merest contact. "I'm sure you understand that a lady has needs," Delilah said out loud, pulling her dress over her head in one smooth tug, the red of her tail fanning out behind her, revealing a pelt the same crimson color all over, save a small white patch nestled between her thighs and that atop her head.

If ever he had seen a bombshell beauty on a poster or in a magazine, this was it projected into real flesh and standing before him. The recently passed Mr. Bloom must have gone with a smile on his face, as his former wife was the very definition of voluptuous, curved like an hour glass that had run into a mountain road, with heavy breasts that swayed with her every breath and sagged just slightly. She was trim in all the right places and wide in others, a well-cushioned set of hips begging Colin forward, her rump the kind that men would hold onto as they rode her and then fall asleep against after. All placed with delicate features like a porcelain doll arranged perfectly on her face, the dog could not find a single thing wrong with this lady in red fur. If this was her in her middle years, he could scarcely imagine how the men had fawned over her in younger years.

"So I present to you, Misters Delaney and Richardson, that we have a small... competition. The lovely Celeste and I shall allow you to indulge yourselves within our bodies however you see fit here and now, and the winner shall be the one who brings her male to his inevitable conclusion first."

"What's the prize?" Richardson asked.

"There is no prize for you, you hulking oaf," Delilah chided." It is we women who are competing with each other. Our reward is simply the ability to compete again and again and again..." Delilah's focus slipped, her fingers teasing slightly at the white bush of hair above her sex, until Colin's cough brought her back. "Ah...and...let's begin."

Both femmes involved took the same initial tactic, shucking their men of pants without delay, Delilah stripping Colin so fast she nearly ruined the fabric as mink claws left small rends in the front panel in her haste. Colin gave a look at his "competition" and blanched--Richardson had to be a good half again his size down there, significantly thciker with a feral "knot" that only a few races of wolf still carried about. That feral nature certainly answered how he'd gotten so huge.

Delilah's finger at his chin quickly brought Colin back to her and the reality of her body near his. "Focus on me. He may have size, but I have experience, and you'll enjoy sharing it." Her fingers clutched at Colin's member, teasing it to hardness, touching nerves he didn't know were there and smothering the shaft in precome. "Very responsive," she moaned softly into his ear, thin tongue lapping around the rim in a way that made the dog's toes curl in the soft soil. The spicy scent of her body, the way her tongue moved along his neck and her fingers worked his maleness, it was almost intolerable but in the best way he knew. In the corner of his senses, Colin could hear the sounds of Richardson and Celeste doing something oral, wet and slobbery; while there was no way she'd get that entire girth into her muzzle the little Cajun queen had more than a few secrets stowed away and tricks up her sleeve, their use evidenced by a sharp grunt from the muscled wolf.

Colin felt more than saw Delilah ease herself away from him, collie blinking as the sensations disappeared, giving a cute little whine of confusion. Looking down helped him in the details, the lovely Widow Bloom lying in the grass with her legs held wide in a V, showing off both her innate flexibility and her holes, the flushing petals of her pink and the winking pucker of her tailhole. "It isn't polite to keep a lady waiting," he said to anyone in earshot as he lowered himself, sliding the crown of his cock into the mink with unexpected ease.

The feeling, his mind explained to the more animalistic parts of his body, was a drastic change from that of Celeste's pussy for a reason. Delilah was an older and more experienced woman, he reasoned, without the snappy tightness of the skunk. But despite the lack of friction and grip, the woman he was making love made up for it exactly as she had told him--with experience. Her control was amazing, as if she had every tiny bit of her torso under complete and total control, Colin's cock being squeezed or rubbed from an infinite number of angles and directions in waves, a ripple there or a tightening there leaving him breathless. It was all the man could do to not simply let himself go right away and release himself into the mink, taking out some of his strain on her luscious breasts, teeth tongue and fingers working over the nipples as each thrust and squeeze drew up sharper and louder moans from the woman.

For the audience, the next long, hot minutes of the 'contest' more than slightly stimulating. Colin used his youthful vigor and natural strength to survive against Delilah's masterful manipulations of his manhood, the sight of his brown-and-white ass and high-held tail acting like a pornographic metronome to the slurping and slapping of his cock plowing the mink again, again, and again, her cries building with every second. Celeste, on her side of the field, was dealing with a load of her own as Richardson tried to grind more and more of his immense member into her already tortured slit. His frantic, bestial mating from behind the wee skunk had left behind a noticeable puddle of fluids on the ground, and the skunk's face was a mix of pain at the intrusion in her depths. Endorphins did their level best to ease the situation, turning pain into pleasure and leaving her face dreamlike, eyes lidded and jaw hanging down, blocking the thoughts of how much she had to be stressed from behind. The music from the Barnes' sound system continued to play but no one could hear a single note, the tunes drowned away by moans, grunts, and splatters.

Colin, though he tried with all the strength he could muster, was the first to fail the "challenge" that Delilah had thrown down. The mink's dexterity in all realms carnal had left him drained, and combined with the haze of Hoffman's alcohol and his own approaching need for sleep his resolve finally caved. To prove he was not beaten without a fight, the collie pulled himself free of the widow's velvet glove pussy and stroked at his shaft as he came, leaving streaks of white seed against the red of her pelt, body marked with his victory as he panted above her in an odd sort of victory pose.

Sense slowly returned to him as Delilah licked his cock clean, murmuring her delight at his performance and offering suggestions as to things he could do for her and too her, from penetrating her succulent backside to coming to live with her until kingdom come. The collie realized that he and Celeste were now far from the only participants in the randy competition, as everywhere around him, cocks were stroked, pussies were fingered and holes were filled with anything that proved to be convenient at the time. The rabbits, their children having headed off to sleep hours before, had melded into one great white-and-tan sea of buggery, jets of come arcing across the night sky like the fireworks from a rather perverse festival. Dex was buried to his balls in a very impassioned mare, so enthusiastic to get to the action that she'd dispensed with outright nudity, pulling her skirt up just far enough to reveal a soft, sopping pussy that spread itself around the cock. One of the "meat masters'" daughters rode at the buck's muzzle, writhing and snorting through her snout at every move of his tongue. Even Hoffman had gotten into the spirit of the salacious gathering, his pants around his ankles, a cock easily the thickness of Colin's arm speared into Rochester's ass, the flaming fox grinding his teeth with tears in his eyes as the bruin held his tail brusquely in the air and slammed inch after inch into the tod's hinder, a beer held high as a salute to Colin.

Colin turned a wide-eyed glance to Celeste, watching as his wife tried in vain to console an angry Richardson. "Look, honey-child, much as we both want it you just can't fit a husky into a thimble..." It was obvious from the way she sat gingerly on the cooler and how the wolf's throbbing phallus bounced in the air that the somewhat...odd couple had not managed to get anywhere, Richardson cleaving little furrows in the ground with his toes. "Why don't you go find a heifer? I know they like 'em big..." The buff canine gave a dismissive grunt and stomped off, not bothering to dress, flicking fluid around as his shaft bobbed in front of him. "Some guys..." She slipped alongside Colin and squeezed him lovingly, something completely out of the character of the orgy carrying on around them, completely ignoring how they were both sticky, how they reeked of semen and sweat, and most importantly how Delilah suckled at Colin's cock, turning to smile at Celeste without a word.

"So was this your plan all along, mon petit moufette amour?" Colin asked with a laugh. He knew his French was awful, but it was funny to try at the very least.

Celeste shrugged and smiled a sleepy smile, leaning on Colin's chest and kissing his cheek. "Not really, but you can't say it didn't work out too bad." Both lovers laughed uproariously as a "moo!" loud enough to rattle windows split the night.

However, the laughter was short lived, the sound of a siren replacing the sound of a somewhat pained bovine, two officers striding out from their squad car with flashlights waving about. A few lovers panicked and tried to cover up, but most simply continued onwards, too involved in love-making or outright buggery to really show concern. "Alright, folks, we need to get this here shindig broken up. Who's responsible for these shenanigans? We got us rules 'bout public decency 'round here." The officer speaking was a lion, grey flecks in his mane showing his age but his body not the slightest bit what Colin would have considered 'old', nowhere near Richardson's massive build but nothing to be sneezed at. His partner, on the other hand, was a thick Doberman bitch with a build the likes of which female body builders would sell their souls and organs for, her arms rippling with strength and face square and stern as she shook her head in disapproval.

Colin and Celeste gave each other a look then gazed over the crowd before standing up and walking towards the police officers, each as naked as a person could possibly be and neither concerned in the least at the situation, even as the lion--one officer Barbary, according to his shirt--raised an eyebrow and cleared his throat. "It's just a block party, officer. A few folks having harmless fun. What seems to be the trouble?"

Barbary shook his head and sighed. "Son, you can't be having yourself some kind of deviant little festival in the front of your house! It just ain't right! Whaddya got to say for yourself?"

One single beat passed, and Colin responded. "Can I suck your dick? She'll eat your partner out." Celeste raised both eyebrows and tilted her head, the collie responding with just a shrug. "I have a craving. It's that fox's fault."

Both cops stood, stone faced, staring at Colin like he'd grown a third head that sang show tunes in Latin. "You...wanna run that by me again, boy?" the Dobie responded, incredulous.

Colin pointed at himself. "I." He ran his hand down the lion's chest, feeling muscles responding under the thin shirt, Barbary coughing uncomfortably. "Will suck his dick, and she"--he pointed at Celeste, who smiled with a nod, bouncing on her toes--"will lick your pussy"--another finger directed at his fellow canine--"until you make a mess all over the street. Deal? I think so."

Before the sounds of protest could rise up, the couple fell to their respective knees in the harsh light of the car's headlights, both smoothly undoing belts and flies even as the officers tried to convince them otherwise. Not a word sank in to either pointed collie ears or soft, curved skunk ears, Colin nuzzling against the impressive bulge that pressed against Barbary's briefs, inhaling the scent of musk. He reached in, wrapping his hand around a hefty pair of nuts, listening to the lion squeak like a bedspring...

"...squeak?"

Colin blinked several times, working suddenly dry eyes until they focused, catching the sight of his wife Celeste, her nightgown quite obviously misplaced. It was something she did often in the heat of the night, but this morning it was for a different purpose, the mephit bouncing on her husband's member with loud gasps of breath, completely oblivious to his waking up. She did finally notice him as he grinned at her and gave a push of his hips back up, growling to encourage the continuation of this rather lewd wake-up call. A few strokes later found Colin groaning softly and giving his lover, friend, and confidante a spurt of come, feeling her grow even warmer around him.

Celeste fell atop him, a little groggy as she stared into his sleepy eyes, wiggling her hips to get comfortable again without pulling the cock free of her sex. "You had the hardest morning wood I've ever seen," she said sheepishly, adjusting her hair to try and get it out of her eyes, cheeks flecked with pink. "You just wouldn't go down. So I, ah, well I figured I might as well help you out." Colin laughed and squeezed her to his chest, watching the sun rise up through the windows.

"Hey, Cel."

The skunk lifted her head a little, eyes still half-shut. "Yeah?"

His grin was wicked, unmistakably so. "How about we throw a block party and meet the neighbors?"

*END*