Desmond Gets Snooty

Story by Ceeb on SoFurry

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Hey look, I'm still a terrible person. Here's more Animal Crossing smut because I seriously have no idea why I enjoy doing these so much.

I originally wanted to do a sequel to Being Snooty which is still a possibility, but I ultimately found it impossible to resist putting Desmond in one of these. This is tenuously related to Being Snooty and it probably occurs in the same world at least.

What's weird here is that, as with Being Snooty, I was inspired by something Seth-Iova/Leosata is doing. His comic The Furs of Summer has this dfdsfdsfadfaskfladsfns hot hyena chick and he most recently hinted that she might have a wiener. So I gave Freya a wiener and made Desmond get all up in it. I am not sorry as fuck.

Thumbnail background is from Animal Crossing: City Folk, dumped by Mr. C for The Textures Resource.

Desmond and writing (C) me

Freya, Whitney, and Animal Crossing (C) Nintendo


Desmond had heard very good things about a little forest village a stone's throw from the sea. First was the long rainy season. He enjoyed rainy days sitting near the window with a book or his laptop. Next was the small and cozy nature of the place, the villagers being quite open and friendly. Economically the place was interesting, too, with only a severely local form of currency known as the bell but one which had apparently served the place well for decades. He moved in shortly after college.

The main reason Desmond had been so quick to settle in to such a rural place wasn't because of the rain, the small size, or the economy. No, he had heard interesting rumors about the loose sexuality of the place which promptly turned out to be a load of bunk. Tom Nook, the chubby entrepreneurial raccoon hadn't once hinted at trading sex for goods but he fortunately gave Desmond what he promised was an excellent trade of dollars to bells. Hardly a thousand dollars made for a down payment on a one-room house which Nook promised expansions for if Desmond found steady work.

Being a trim and sexually-active young man with a taste for both genders, Desmond was a little disappointed that his first interaction in the village had been a chaste and professional one but on further contemplation he was glad for that. College had gotten him laid several times a week with a handful of pregnancy scares to boot. Just maybe it was time to settle in.

While he unboxed his meager things and arranged them around the house, Desmond felt a sense of pride and he shared it with his new neighbors whom visited one by one. A Rottweiler with a pudgy belly and a grumpy attitude gave him a bent lamp as a housewarming gift. It blended in well with Desmond's college crap and he took it graciously. More of his neighbors brought token items, among them an umbrella and some precious bells. At first Desmond thought getting a thousand bells was a supremely generous gift. Later he'd realize what a pittance it was.

One neighbor to show up late in the evening caught Desmond's eye. Still in college mode, he surreptitiously flirted with her and learned that her name was Whitney. A very lovely white wolf whose small breasts made mere bumps in her shirt but whose long legs rocked capri pants, she appeared at Desmond's door with money and a passive swipe at his poverty.

Unable to get herself out of the foxcoon's abode quickly enough, Whitney asked in snobby cadence, "And your name is Desmond, correct?"

"It is, yeah."

"That's quite a fine name, dear. Not quite what somebody with your, hm, hair should be named, perhaps it's a bit too dignified for that."

Desmond canted his head and quirked a tight, offended smile. Whatever, I can put up with the attitude for those hips. "I'm sorry," he enigmatically answered.

"You can't help it, dear," Whitney said with a wave. "Hmm, I must be leaving now. Perhaps," she smiled slyly, "if this place were bigger and more coordinated, dignified ladies such as moi might grace your presence longer."

As Whitney grasped the doorknob and turned away, Desmond glanced at her ass for what felt like an ice age before he asked, "Wait, you seem well off." This made Whitney smile. "Any suggestions...?"

"Hmm. Hmm-hmm-hmm," Whitney hummed, tapping her chin in time. Her tail swished. "My suggestions for a blue-collar dear like yourself? Get a shovel. Maybe a fishing rod too. Oh, but do get a moisturizer for those nice paws of yours, they'll be so calloused in that line of work. In the meantime, perhaps you should visit the other wolf whom lives here."

"Other wolf," Desmond repeated. "Go on."

"You can't miss her if you walk out this door and west. Her home has a purple roof. And she herself is quite a tacky shade... Ah, but don't tell her I said as much," Whitney chuckled. "Really must be going now, dear, but I do so love that hair."

And so Whitney stepped out of Desmond's life and into the chill night. With his room set up but the place unfamiliar and a little creepy, Desmond started out the door too. He paused at the sound of thunder, popped back in for his umbrella and found himself having to use it on his walk across the village.

Nestled in the trees was a purple-roofed manor with an immaculately manicured lawn. Still thinking in terms of dormitories, Desmond knocked on the front door. After a fashionable wait the door swung smoothly in to reveal a stunningly pretty pink wolf several inches taller than Desmond. Her eyes lacked the iciness Whitney's had and were instead a golden hue which Desmond expected from a wolf. Also unlike Whitney was the fact that this wolf filled out a mauve window sweater with generous breasts.

"A new face in this humble little village," said the wolf with a smile and a tight Norwegian accent. "Come inside then, darling, and forgive me for not greeting you at your doorstep. Oh, put your umbrella in there. Wipe your feet, please, and don't touch the walls."

Desmond took in paintings of fruit bowls and depressed clowns all while thinking what a phony woman he was near but as with Whitney and her dynamite hips, Desmond could put up with the snootiness for that window sweater. "My name's Desmond," he said, perhaps too eagerly. "Whitney said I should come see you."

"Whitney said so?" the pink wolf asked while she creased her snout into a smirk. "Well of course she did. Why... Just look at a cute young man like you, of course she sent you. Are those holes in your jeans?" she asked, peering at his knees. "So humble."

"I haven't had a chance to buy new pants," Desmond blurted.

"Of course you haven't, darling. Come this way, now," she purred as she led him into the den. "And my name is Freya. Welcome to my home."

Freya sat across from Desmond with her legs neatly crossed. She too wore jeans but they fit her well, were not faded, and had no holes in their knees. "Do be open and honest with me darling, why did that bitch Whitney send you here?" she smiled.

Coarse language wasn't new to Desmond, but hearing it from a dignified mouth left him stunned. "Um."

"Now, now, I should mind my tongue," Freya slyly grinned. "But do tell me."

"I... Remarked that I had no money yet, and she suggested I come see you," Desmond squeaked, pressing his thighs tightly together and feeling very tiny indeed.

Freya's expression didn't change in the least, but after a moment she chuckled. "You have no money, do you? Uff da. So sad."

"Look, if I just got roped into some feud," Desmond started, only to be silenced by Freya with a wave.

"No feuds, I promise. Whitney is a terrible whore who does terrible things, but that is not to say I don't either. Why, this house I live in..." The words rolled off of her tongue with a rueful chuckle. "If only you knew the things that go on in this village, you sweet little boy. Ah, but perhaps you do, and perhaps that's why you're here."

A crocodile grin spread across Desmond's muzzle just as his ears splayed back. "That was part of it, maybe."

"Hah! It's written on your face. Ah, and let me guess, you expected the raccoon to want you right there in his shop rather than gouge you for every bell you were worth, correct?"

"I-I guess so," a suddenly embarrassed Desmond muttered. "Why did Whitney send me here, though? What are you supposed to pay me for?"

Freya shook her head slowly. "You're quite dense, I can tell. Would you care to deduce for yourself, or shall I just show you?" the wolf grinned.

"Maybe you should show me," Desmond sheepishly answered.

The pink wolf stood and strode to within inches of Desmond, her crotch near his face and the lip of the sweater hanging over. "Unbutton my jeans, darling, and earn your keep."

"Oh my god, yes," Desmond blurted as he grappled with Freya's fly. Down came the zipper; he popped the button; he pulled her pants down and her black panties with them. "You're so fine, so fucking fine," he was huffing, and that was when he saw the wolf's balls and her swelling pink penis, blunt-tipped and beautifully circumcised but modest in size. "Penis?" Desmond squeaked.

"Unladylike as it may be to say, Desmond, but you appear to be the kind of young man whom knows his way around a hard, throbbing cock. And furthermore, Whitney would not have sent you this way if she didn't think you were a cock-hungry little homosexual, too. Will you earn your bells pleasuring me, darling, or would you rather fish and shake money out of trees?"

Desmond stammered something confused and half-baked. Freya petted through his hair and dragged his head in close until his nose frotted her balls. "Moments before I was beautiful and fine. Am I still? Or am I unattractive to you now?" Still Desmond couldn't quite answer but neither did he take his muzzle back. "Suck now, little Desmond."

As if being outright commanded was all it took, Desmond wrapped his lips around Freya's modest penis. Its flavor was subtle and its size easily managed by a faggot as worldly as Desmond. As he suckled its full length his paws slid up her thighs and palmed her rear. Freya seemed not to mind, and in fact she pouted her rump back in his paws. It forced the twink to chase her cock inward and he did just that. The wolf grinned. "A natural," she cooed. "I know how much blue-collar young men like yourself enjoy dirty talk, so I'll tell you right now that when you're through sucking me off, boy, I have a very tight asshole which you're going to put that tongue to work on. You won't fuck me - not this time - but I'll be sure to find something to do with the erection you're undoubtedly suffering down there..."

To Desmond, blowing a rich stranger promising him fortune for sex smacked of bending over the dean's desk when his partying ways interrupted his studies too often. He smirked to himself around Freya's small dick to realize that college had prepared him for the real world.

Desmond didn't find himself having to bob on a penis like Freya's. He satiated the wolf with harsh sucks and constant molestation of her taut ass cheeks. In time he hooked an arm around her thigh and cupped her balls. Freya sighed for him with a toothy smile. "It seems Whitney gauged you correctly, darling," she rumbled. "You clearly know what you're doing."

Despite her average size, Freya dribbled enough pre that Desmond would have her flavor and scent memorized by the time he went home. That potent wolf juice smeared against his broad tongue and coated it with flavor which left him shivering. He pulled back and defied Freya's gentle grasp on his head to kiss her blunt glans and sniff the tip. "This is nice," he cooed. "Does Whitney have a dick too?"

Freya laughed in an ugly way reserved only for the wealthy. "I've heard not, though I'm sure you'll find out for yourself in time." Desmond made to suckle her again but she wordlessly spun on her heel and pushed her taut ass back into his snout. His muzzle wedged her ass cheeks open and his nose bumped close enough to her pucker that he found it himself with a slurp immediately after.

The wolf liked that she didn't have to command or coax Desmond. He went straight to work, alternately snuffling and slobbering her tail hole. Several times she felt his tongue drag across her taint and sometimes he nibbled the thinly-furred stretch of flesh. Of course the brunt of his boywhore attention fell on her quivering asshole, and within minutes of beginning to dote on it, all of his attention fell there. His paws closed around her thighs and he slopped his tongue into her tight entrance. As a matter of course, he soon made out with her anal walls. Every lap, each twisting deformation of Desmond's tongue against her flesh made Freya groan and huff. She found herself at a loss for words.

Soon Freya began to masturbate with lascivious huffs to echo Desmond's. She rolled back her yellow eyes and shut them tightly as a dozy rumble of thunder made the walls of her manor resonate. "What a good boy," crooned Freya. "You're going to fit in so well here, I assure you."

It was impossible to tell if Desmond was even paying attention. He didn't seem to be aware of much beyond Freya's firm ass and her supple anal flesh. Her being a wolf endowed her with musk which, though feminine, was laden with pheromones and Desmond's nose was weak to such an alluring smell. He sucked down her scent as much as he slobbered up her walls. Tame by comparison was the gentle manner in which he stroked her thighs, his fingers bumping her balls and stopping at her knees sometimes in symmetry, sometimes alternately.

Freya growled and lashed her tail above Desmond's head. The sound of his lurid eating filled the still air of the manor and overrode the din of the rain but the wet slap of her masturbation made for a foil against the lapping. Not even a heated ass-licking could keep a condescending dickgirl like Freya content, however. She growled to Desmond, "We're moving on to something new, darling."

Desmond pulled his tongue out of Freya's asshole and his snout free of her fine cheeks only reluctantly, and still he panted against her ass crack and nuzzled the curves of the cheeks with desperate lust. Before he could ask what Freya wanted next, she fell onto the couch beside him and immediately started to grapple with the fly of his ratty jeans. He dumbly grinned and watched as she fumbled his zipper down. He intervened for the button because she was taking far too long. He tried to kiss her, but she nipped his nose and growled.

"Pants come off, darling," said Freya tightly, "and so do those briefs." When Desmond stood pantsless before her with a throbbing erection of his own, Freya splayed her legs and gripped her shaft at its bottom most inches. "And now you sit," she grinned.

The foxcoon considered for all of two seconds before he straddled Freya facing her. Reverse-cowboy was a fun ride but he wanted to look at those cold yellow eyes - and more importantly at those thick tits in the sweater. Despite a lack of his own lubrication, Freya's penis was small and well-slobbered enough that Desmond's trained ass accepted it easily, and he sank down to the base through a shudder.

Knees planted on either side of the wolf, Desmond began bouncing. The strokes were short due to necessity but that only led to a quick pace. Down against the wolf's sweater-clad belly rubbed his own uncut cock, its size somewhat more than hers. Well aware of his need, she wrapped a paw around it. Even in that tight space she stroked Desmond quickly and she bit his neck with all the predatory instinct a faggot fox could hope for from a snooty wolf.

It was less Freya's size and more the unlikely experience up to and including the lay which made Desmond shiver, although the sex was enough that his toes curled. He braced his paws on the sofa's back and not Freya's shoulders, and thus his neck was bared for her to bite and snarl into it as she saw fit.

Jerking and gnawing on Desmond seemed to be enough for the wolf whom otherwise sat passively and took the ride. Desmond was a fun little sissy, she thought, definitely the kind of young man to keep around. With how eagerly he had suckled, licked, and sat on what she offered, she knew continuing to entice him would be simple. Counting the ways he had already shown raw sluttiness if not loyalty, Freya grinned and crooned to him, "Here - a treat for you, darling."

Desmond's bouncing slowed but his anal walls never stopped their loving writhe. He watched in one part amusement, two parts lust as Freya stretched the window in her sweater, popping a few seams without care as she pulled her very full tits through the gap. For all his pussy hunting in college, Desmond thought himself a connoisseur of breasts and as far as he could tell, Freya's was natural. Just the same, the cock he had suckled and was currently bouncing upon was too perfect to be anything but real.

"Fuck me," Desmond bleated with no irony. He cupped Freya's tits and his bouncing segued into a lewd gyration. Fondling and squeezing, tweaking pink nipples under thumbpads, the foxcoon chuckled when he said, "I didn't know how badly I wanted a chick with a dick until I met you."

"Really is the best of both worlds, yes?" Freya sneered. "I do bless my parents for leaving me the way I am... An awkward adolescence is more than atoned for when I surprise boys like you," said the wolf with a wink. In that wink was something special, a glint in her eye Desmond just barely caught. The look struck him as predatory and it made him wince away even from her fine tits.

That Desmond flinched back was just as well for Freya whom snarled hungrily and took him to the floor. They landed on the carpet, Desmond crashing shoulders-first harmlessly but winded. Freya's penis pulled free of him in the rush but as she lifted his legs and folded him over until his hind paws nearly touched his ears, she revealed her target once more. Upended and blushing furiously was Desmond, his rear aimed straight up and quickly straddled by Freya. She buried her meat back in him and made him gasp, and he cutely grabbed his feet and held them tightly.

The position was clearly new to Freya, it being a spur of the moment but she took to it quickly and feigned familiarity. She took hold of Desmond's legs nowhere in particular and found herself bending his limber body for leverage and support. This proved to be an advantage because it put his cock near his own lips. Neither of them wasted any time; Freya started to rut Desmond like a breeding bitch, and Desmond suckled hungrily at the first inches of his penis.

A massive grin split Freya's muzzle when she saw and heard his self-service. She made a lusting and triumphant sound to match as her hips smacked Desmond's upended butt again and again, her balls swinging into the cheeks while his own balls dangled low and offered her an intimate look at his supple perineum. Beneath her Desmond yowled and whined when he wasn't busy gulping on his cock and the noises only spurred Freya whose prey drive seemed to go hand in hand with her arousal. Her thick tits were held loosely in the ruined sweater. They bounced and jiggled just out of reach of the well-folded Desmond.

At last Freya began to snarl and grind inwards with gyrations opposed to thrusts. Every inch of her cockflesh tingled and her scrotum drew up taut. Tail lashing over her spit-shined ass, Freya came even as she continued to grind and her nuts dumped a mighty load into Desmond which coated his anal flesh and left him shuddering.

Emitting an impatient snarl, Freya grasped Desmond's penis. She worked it hard and fast with the same motion a farmer would use to milk a cow. Desmond shuddered in pleasure and huffed against his meat, not caring even when Freya's overzealous masturbation smacked him in the face. He just quivered and crooned as the pleasure built higher and higher, every bit of it well-earned from the sodomy and the taboo pleasure of being fucked by a girl. Finally the pleasure hit a peak and Desmond came into and against his maw with an abiding cry.

Afterglow seemed to go on forever. As Desmond and Freya calmed their breathing, the sound of the rain grew louder to them, the thunder becoming more obvious. The wolfess continued to hold her ground and thus her by-then flaccid penis in Desmond's ass.

"And everybody else," Desmond huffed, pausing to lick his sticky lips, "just got me money or crappy furniture"

Freya chuckled devilishly. She eased off of Desmond and smoothly knelt behind him, never allowing him to right himself. Surprising but definitely not dissuading the twink, she pressed her lips to his exposed tail hole and lapped teasingly around its rim. "Don't read much into this, darling," she purred. "Cum is simply very difficult to get out of an expensive rug." Whether or not it was her intent, Freya mirrored Desmond's ass-eating when she buried her tongue in his well-loved walls, slopping out discarded spunk and leaving equally-viscous slobber in its wake. Even when Freya was through she held Desmond upright, and she seemed then to savor his twinkish body as she nibbled his taint and palmed his thighs. "Tonight was a warm-up, darling. Tomorrow we'll see about paying off some of that mortgage."

Desmond had only been rumbling in contentment at Freya's idle worship of his hindquarters. Being a boytoy seemed like a decent career path. "All right," he said easily. "When should I come back?"

The wolf chuckled. "Come back? You aren't leaving tonight." Freya dragged her tongue up from his slick pucker, along his taint and to the back of his balls. The shudder he made put a grin on her face. Her only concern now was how to repay Whitney.