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On a cold and dreary night, there is nothing quite like the warmth that can be had in one’s own home, and that’s precisely the sort of warmth that our two lovely dik-diks are having. The two rapscallions enjoy a pleasantly snowy evening in the city of Anteronia, bunkered up in their loft and laboratory.

Lovemore, dressed in a warm sweater, approaches his beloved Lerato, who is draped in a cozy coat, and hands her a steaming mug. “And for you, my deer, a hot cup of cocoa.”

The lady dik-dik takes the offered cup in her mechanical glove-covered hand and sips the drink. Sighing, she pulls it from her lips and leans over to pat her beloved on the head. “The perfect temperature, as always, Love. You know just how to make them.”

“A pinch of magic does the trick,” the magus says, looking over his lover’s shoulder. “And what are we working on today?”

“I’m planning something,” Lerato says. “But there are a lot of moving parts to it.”

“Part of our grand expeditions, I suppose?” Lovemore says, sipping his own mug of cocoa.

“Yes, indeed, but I’m vexed—simply vexed.”

“Perhaps it would do you good to relax a bit and be less vexed, my deer.” He says this, placing his cup down and clasping her arm between his hooves. “It’s a cold winter night, much like the night we first met.”

She chuckles, taking a gulp of her drink and setting it beside his. “Difference is that we were clinging to each other for warmth, Love. There’s none of that going on now.”

“We could still do some of that,” he says, placing his hands upon her sides. He leans in, pressing his snout right up against hers, nuzzling her gently, “If that’s what you want.”

Lerato slides her hands up his cheeks and over his horns, rubbing those gloves over those pointed things. “Oh, I think I know what you want, Love, but you’re going to have to tell me.”

“Let me show you,” he responds, and with that, he presses his lips to hers, sealing the two together. Their tails flicking back and forth as the fire crackles, bathing them in shadowy light as the white flecks of snow line the edges of their windows and cover the streets of the city around them.

Their kiss starts slow and tender. It is a peppering of little bits here and there with sweet nothings interspersed throughout. Then, through half-lidded eyes of the two, they make it deeper, their mouths parting, their tongues dancing. Both know exactly where to put the other, so they rolick and roll within one another. It isn’t a competition between the two. It is an exploration through parts that have been explored many times. Kissing each other is as cozy today as it has been over these years together. It is both novel and nostalgic. It is a dance they never grow tired of.

When their lips part from one another, their tongues linger out from their mouths, their saliva bridging for a moment, sparkling in the firelight before dissipating and drooping down to their clothes.

Lovemore taps his glasses between two hooves, folds them carefully, and tosses them expertly next to the cups he has placed.

“Oh, my, you’re getting really serious now,” Lerato says. A hand travels down his side, over his tummy, and down between his legs, where she grips the package within his leggings. “And very fun.”

“You know it,” he says, smirking.

“You only make yourself blind when you’re really ready to slut it up, Love.”

“And I only impair my vision because I know you are as lovely as ever, no matter what vision I have.”

Lerato rolls her eyes, her thumb playing between his legs at his modest bulge. “Please, you think it’s time for the romantic poetry, Love?”

“Always is, my Deer.” He says this, stepping forward, closer to her, draping his arms over her shoulders.

She places a hand on his side and leans in, pressing her mouth to his neck. The male of the two sighs and tilts his neck, shuddering as she sucks and kisses upon his tender, furred flesh.

Pulling back, the lady licks her lips, her snout twitching, a sparkling gleam in her eyes as she pinches the edge of Lovemore’s sweater and stares him into his hazy eyes. “How long have you been horny today, Love?”

Lovemore whimpers at the suggestion, feeling her mechanical fingers over his exposed fur at his side.

“You haven’t answered the question,” she coos, that glove placed right between his legs, cupping him at his crotch.

“Aah…!”

“That’s the cute squeals of my Love,” Lerato says, a soft titter rising from her lips. She presses her snout right up against his and nuzzles him gently before pulling those fingers back. “Shall we make it so that the only warmth we have is our covers… and our fur?”

The poor male nods his head quickly, so enraptured is he by the teasing of his wife, and Lerato titters softly as she covers the two of them in the blanket, keeping them underneath as they shuffle around and remove their clothing.

After all, they’ve done this so many times before. It’s not that hard to strip down so quickly in front of your beloved. Circumstance and showmanship are not necessary, and soon, garments fly out from the blanket pile, tossed about with abandon. When the two finally poke out from underneath their cover, Lovemore lies back on the couch, and Lerato lies upon him, pressing her warm chest upon his, her body straddling him, her gloves stroking underneath his ears.

“Now then, Love,” she purrs. “I’m going to ride. You ready?”

“Muh… most certainly, my deer!” he chirps.

Those words are all that Lerato needs to continue on her path. The dominant woman slides on top of him, letting the blanket drape from her shoulders and expose her body entirely to the firelight, its flickering orange highlighting her wild hair and casting shadows over her form, cloaking her almost as if it were teasing garments.

Whether he could see her fully or not, though, Lovemore loved his wife, and his hooves reach out and brush against her hips. But she teases him, pulling away and lifting herself. This lets his cock spring up, ready for her.

And Lerato lowers herself, letting her lips kiss his cock, swallowing him as she lowers herself onto her hubby’s hunk of meat. It is a familiar feeling, of course. She’s ridden him many times in the past, but does one get tired of their favorite thing?

She tilts her head back, and she arches her back, letting out a huff of hot breath into the chilly room as she feels that solid, warm thing fill her up. Her hips roll on top of him, slowly making motions to stimulate and to tease, but also to make her feel good as well, as that thing fills her up and the head rolls back and forth against her most intimate of areas. She lets out little huffing breaths, her body shuddering.

Underneath Lerato, Lovemore pants, and he then pushes himself up by the shoulders, moving his arms up and down as he strokes the delicate fur of his lady love.

Lerato leans forward, her arms coming closer, pressing her breasts together. She tilts her head, smiling coyly at her beloved as her hips keep up that slow, steady movement over him. “So, Love,” she says, with a lilting, coquetish tone. “How long do you think you can hold out?”

“H… hold out?” Lovemore asks.

“Yeah,” Lerato says, moving a hand to brush over his hair. “How long can I tease you before you finally bust?”

Lovemore attempts a nuzzle against her glove, but Lerato pulls away with a teasing tutting. “You’ll get all the loving, but not all at once, Love.”

Lovemore whimpers underneath his wife, closing his eyes and shuddering. He feels her fill herself up with his length, rolling around and teasing him with contractions from within. It is a teasing, yet tender, experience that leaves him letting out little squeaking sighs with each rocking motion that she pulls upon him.

“You’re such a cutie pie, my Love,” she coos, leaning in and pressing her nose against his. With slight nuzzling and rubbing, she plays with him, hands gripping at his shoulders as she continues to roll and rub against his length.

“Aah… ha… my… my deer…” Lovemore exclaims through breathy whispers, unable to string together more than a few words.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re going to cum already?” Lerato says, a flash of mischief upon those words. She lifts her hips, her tail fluttering behind her cute rump as she holds herself up high, only the tip of her lover’s cock stuck inside her now. “Because I’ve only just begun to play with you.”

With that, Lerato slams down, bouncing onto Lovemore’s dick with a pounding precision like the machines that she makes. Her pounding plapping onto his penis makes him roll his eyes back and groan in broken breaths, her gloves gripping on his shoulders and holding him down as she bangs down hard on him, making his dick disappear into her depths.

Despite the stimulation from her steamy session, Lovemore holds back, his arms spread out on the surface, his hips rocking forward in the reciprocation of her actions, delving into her with no control over himself. He’s a cock for her delight, and those sounds she makes, squeaking louder and louder as he rides him, make him want to go more and more. Hooves scratch at the ground around him, and the little naked dik-dik desperately wails as he tries to keep himself from releasing into his wife.

“Come on, Love,” the female half of the pair says, rolling her hips with each slam into him, “It’s okay if you release. It just means, aha… we’ll need to… mmm… punish you later, ahaah… for it!”

He’s sure whatever punishment is coming for him isn’t going to be that much of a detriment to his well-being. It is, of course, part of the games that he plays with his beloved Lerato, but if there was one thing that was the most punishing to him, it is the disappointment in her eyes and her voice when she is unfulfilled. So, the dick-dik desperately dreams of diversions to keep himself from cumming until the very moment that she wants him to.

Faster and faster Lerato goes on top of him, hopping away at Lovemore’s shaft, panting louder and louder, and with a higher and higher pitch. She grits her teeth as she feels the stimulation hitting her more and more, the cock throbbing within her, getting closer and closer to its release. But the longer he holds out, the more her anticipation builds, and the more her anticipation builds, the harder her own rocked world will be.

The two lose it together. It’s unclear who comes first, but it arrives all the same, all too soon for either of the dik-diks. It is a screaming, squirming mess of ejaculation and contraction. It is a bowl of warmth and a collapse of energy. It is a moment that lasts an eternity and yet ends all too soon, but they both arrive at their climax, collapsing onto the floor and onto their bodies.

Lerato lies upon her lover’s chest, nuzzling against him as she rubs his shoulder with her mechanical hand. “Mmm, Love…” she groans.

He rests a hoof behind her, stroking over her hair. “I know,” he says, panting. “That was wonderful.”

“You came inside, you know,” Lerato says, leaning in and placing a kiss on Lovemore’s cheek.

“You know you love rolling the dice,” Lovemore responds.

Lerato snickers, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him in close. “Yeah. I’ll take any chance if it means more love with you.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself, my deer,” Lovemore says, kissing her forehead, letting the cold winter night pass them by in the embrace of one another.

Lovemore sits at his desk, scrawling away at notes for his research. The dutiful dik-dik keeps tabs on all the magical artifacts he and his lover can acquire, tracking the movements of those in the possession of temporary treasuries and locating the lore to point out ones that are not yet discovered. The life of a treasure hunter can be pretty hectic, even in the drawing room.

“Lo~oove…” the voice trails through the chambers, making the male dik-dik shiver. He picks up his head and adjusts his glasses, his snout shaking slightly.

Coming out through the halls of their shared abode is the squeaking sound of his lover calling him. He puts down his pen and sighs, pushing himself up. “What is it, my deer?” he replies in a half-lovey-dovey, half-annoyed way.

“I got a new toy to test out, and you’ll be perfect for it.”

Lovemore’s ears flick about. He knows perfectly well what sort of toy she has, but not the exact parameters. He clears his throat and lifts his head high, turning from his spot right away. Artifacts can wait. His lady love cannot.

The husband follows the sound of the wife’s voice to her workshop. It isn’t the most romantic of locations, filled with oil and grit and sweat, but when he enters the room and sees the bare back of his lady love tinkering away at something, her muscles shifting and turning as she tightens something at the desk, he can’t help but bite his lip at the sight, and the smell, of his beloved. They are the sensations of her passion, and seeing her hard at work at what she loves makes his heart flutter deep in his chest.

She turns around, her upper body on full display and her worker’s outfit peeled down to her waist. Leaning back, Lerato smirks as she looks at the approaching Lovemore, tapping the table with her gloves. “Hey there, you,” she coos, moving a hand up to stroke her well-defined tummy. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“Nothing I can’t do later,” Lovemore says, smiling warmly at the veritable work of art standing before him. “Helping you is always at the top of my priorities.”

“Of course it is,” she says, rolling her eyes.

The two of them break out into laughter, a giggling fit that comes from sharing a sense of humor for so many years.

“Why are you laughing?” Lerato asks, wiping a tear from her eye once the giggles get out of her.

“Because you’re laughing!” Lovemore responds, leaning against the wall. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because you’re such a romantic dweeb!” She says, grabbing a handkerchief and wiping her forehead.

“Only because you’re giving me so much candy, my sweet.”

She tosses the handkerchief to her husband, who holds it in trembling hands.

“Well?” she asks, smirking, folding her hands over her chest. “You want y

our reward for coming over here? Go ahead. Have a preview.”

Lovemore’s snout flexes, and his ears twitch. He smiles gently and brings

the handkerchief to his nose. His tail twitches, and he squeaks in response to the fragrance of his beloved.

“On your knees, Love,” Lerato says, reaching under her bench and tossing a towel over to him.

The perfectly trained hubby grabs the towel between his hooves, folds it, places it on the floor, and falls to his knees. He looks upward at her as she approaches him, pulling something off the table and hiding it behind her back. When she arrives in front of him, she strokes over his cheek and pets over his hair, moving her hand downward over his face before finding its way to his mouth. Her thumb presses inside his mouth, gently playing at his cheek.

While she teases and plays with him, Lovemore’s eyes flutter back, and he sighs, enjoying the little ministrations his wife has placed upon him. She runs her hand along his cheek and jaw, up to the upper cheeks, pinching his glasses, pulling them aside, folding them carefully, and placing them on the table.

“You’re such a good boy, Love,” Lerato says, sighing happily as she looks down at her needy boy.

Lovemore whimpers in response to her husky voice and lovely words.

“I’ve got a treat for you that I’m sure you’ll just love,” Lerato says, and she reveals her other hand and the trinket in her palm.

It is a phallus of matte material, long and girthy, but simple in shape. At the end, it has a hole much like a urethra, and in the middle, straps ready to be worn.

“A strapon? Lovemore asks, tilting his head. “But honey, that’s not very special, is it?”

She chuckles, standing over him, her broad body shadowing over his as she lifts the thing up, holding it close to him, close to his mouth. “Oh, but Love, this is a very special one indeed. I’ve been tinkering with the device's inner mechanisms. It should prove to be quite… revolutionary.” With that, she presses upon it on a certain spot, and the tip rolls around, a slight buzzing filling the dik-diks’ ears.

Lovemore’s eyes widen as he looks at the contraption. “Oh my,” he says, voice breathy.

“And that’s not all, Love,” Lerato says, her fingers stroking along the underside of the device. “As you can see, it also has an opening, perfect for letting loose something thick and hot and messy."

“R-really?” Lovemore gasps.

Lerato chuckles. “You wanna find out?”

Lovemore looks to his loving wife, his mouth agape, bottom lip caught on the edge of Lerato’s new toy. The male dik-dik ponders for a moment his lover’s question. Pulling his mouth free, he keeps his hooves upon his knees and smiles warmly up at her. “But of course I do, my deer. You so eagerly want to test out your newest invention, do you?”

Lerato stands tall and domineering over her husband, one gloved hand holding the technological and magical marvel of a dildo and the other resting on her hip. “The question is,” she says, sneering smugly, “is if I want to test it more than you want it inside you.” She punctuates her response with a playful little slap on Lovemore’s cheek, letting a little slapping sound rise up to their ears.

Lovemore whimpers gently, looking away a moment before sheepishly going back to that strong glare. Those eyes bore into his very soul, making him shudder all the way down his spine until his tail flips and his butt wiggles. Finally, he lets out a meek reply. “Maybe I want it more than you do…?”

She reaches down and strokes the male’s cheek, giving him a gentle tap. “Good boy,” she sighs, and moves her hands to work on the strap.

First, she pulls it close to her. The straps rest in the middle of the monstrous thing, which allows her to spread her legs and slide the thing inside her own wanting sex.

Lovemore watches as she slides the thing inside of herself, wiggling and stepping wider to get a better hold inside of her. The lady dik-dik grunts as she takes more of the thing in, enough for it to sink to its base, and once she is through, she wraps the harness around herself, stepping into it with a little difficulty.

Lovemore pushes up and aids his beloved, slipping his hooves over her thighs, guiding her legs, and supporting her weight. When she is finally done, he returns to his towel, sitting like the good, obedient male that he is.

Lerato pants, running a hand through her hair before she steps up to her husband, holding the fake phallus up to his lips once more. “Now then, shall we get it ready?”

“But of course, my deer,” Lovemore says, licking his lips. He closes his eyes and concentrates his mana into his form, focusing on the mouth. When he opens his mouth, a glowing film of magical energy connects the ring that he makes with his lips, which signals to his beloved that it is time to start.

As she pushes her hips forward, the cockhead presses against the film and pushes through, each inch that passes through it coated in a magical sheen of lubrication, slick and tasty on the tongue, but not too much, because Lovemore needs to do most of the work.

With the cock started off, the husband leans in, keeping his hooves away, and he bobs his head along the shaft, letting out a soft moan as Lerato fills his face with the hard and warm thing between her legs.

Lerato sighs as the object pushes and pulls, rocking about within her as she rocks it into her husband’s mouth. She watches him with dominant yet loving eyes, running her hands down his head, petting the cute thing as she thrusts forward in a basic rhythm.

Lovemore’s moans rise up from his throat as he bobs along the shaft, making sure to shake his head and push the thing with his tongue as well to please his wife with the thing inside her. This continues for a time, the two there in the middle of the workshop, wife rutting as husband sucks on the shaft she provided. No words need pass between them. Just the sounds of their exhales and their gasps into the ether are enough to keep each of them going for a time.

Lerato stares down at Lovemore with half-hooded eyes, licking her lips as she pushes into him. “This thing, ah, has some, mmnh, features,” she finally says.

Lovemore peers curiously up to her without taking his mouth off the shaft, letting out a curious little squeak.

“For example… it can feel when I… I cum and-and blast off itself.”

“Mmmm!”

“Or I can… I can trigger it manually.”

“Mmmrgh.”

“Don’t worry, you,” she chuckles, pinching his cheek. “I’ll keep going until we’re both satisfied, don’t you worry. But for now, have your treat.”

She pulls back from Lovemore and holds the cock firmly in her grasp. With a snap of her free hand’s fingers, the cock twitches and bulges before shooting out warm and ropey stuff over Lovemore’s face.

Lovemore gasps, a soft groan rising up out of his throat as the stuff slides down his cheeks and over one closed eye, leaving him staring up at his wife with one open eye. “Did I do well?” he asked in a higher-pitched voice than usual.

With sweat now from the exertion on top of her work, Lerato leans in, squatting down. Through slightly strained speech, she says, “You’re doing great.” She says this, patting his head and then finally leaning in, stealing a kiss over his fake cum-covered mouth.

The two lock lips and joust with tongues together for a bit there. It is an eager dance, with the two entwining and twirling around one another with the same burning passion as their first time together, but with the grace and dexterity of so many years of practice.

Finally, Lerato decides to pull back, their tongues bridged with spit that drizzles down from them before she slides her hands down along his body. “Now then, for the main course. Better prepare that spell again.”

Lovemore giggles and squirms, only for Lerato to grab him by the thighs and pull them out from under him, making him fall on his butt. He lies on the floor, supported by his elbows for but a moment before his beloved lifts his legs and spreads them.

“Now, we’re going to put this thing through all of its paces,” Lerato says, snickering slightly.

Lovemore can only squeak in response, biting his lip, waiting with much, so much, anticipation.

Lovemore lies on the floor of Lerato’s workshop. The male dik-dik has his legs spread and lifted, held up by his lover’s mechanical gloves. His heart thumps quickly, and he stares with great attention at the naked body before him, strapped up with the perfect dildo between her legs.

His own cock lies on his stomach, twitching and ready to respond to the stimulation, but he knows it’s not going to get directly touched. No, she’s going in a different way, a way that puckers and quivers with anticipation for her, a cute little winking star between his perfectly plump cheeks.

“Cast the spell,” Lerato says, a command that comes from her in a loving tone.

“Right away, my deer!” the submissive says, placing his hooves together and chanting the magical words. He motions his arms downwards, directing the flow of energy to the hole where it is most needed.

When the booty hole glows with the magical light, then Lerato knows it’s ready for its pounding.

So, Lerato presses forward, the tip of her fake cock pressing against that hole, meeting the resistance of the entrance. But with all the lubrication she has from Lovemore’s mouth and the lubricating spell, she is able to push in with little resistance.

She slides in, the false phallus filling the boy hole as the part inside her pulses and shifts from the movements. Both dik-diks gasp at the sensation of contact. Lovemore’s toehooves wiggle, and Lerato rubs his thighs. She smiles down at her husband and pulls back a little bit, letting the head rub right where it needs to, stimulating that P-spot of his.

He sighs, rolling his eyes back, leaning his head against the floor, and then she thrusts in again, giving him another reason to let out a high squeaky moan.

“Good Lovemore,” she growls, her voice rumbling in her chest. “You’re always such a wonderful little moaner, aren’t you?”

Lovemore nods in response, the rhythm that she begins making him pant in higher and higher gasps. But there they go, their bodies grinding against one another, and the dildo reaching inside both of them, mechanically and magically stimulating both of them. Like their other joint creations, this thing is a marriage of both of their skills, and Lovemore is just starting to realize it.

“H… how?” he asks through his panting moans.

Lerato squeezes him harder, leaning in further, spreading his legs out on either side of her body. She presses her breasts against his flat chest, her snout connecting to his. “That little project I had you working on, enchanting this and that. Some of the items were for this special little toy, and you didn’t even know!”

“H… how ingenious… thu-thank you, muh-my deer!”

Lerato titters slightly at the compliment and leans in, pressing her lips against her husband’s. Though she is the one pegging him today, they join in a perfect matrimonial union, kissing each other in delight as the lady dik-dik rocks her trick dick while Lovemore’s dick rubs against the two bodies, pressed against toned muscle and his more scholarly body.

Lerato groans into the kiss, pulling back from it, letting their spit fall onto Lovemore’s chest. She sits up as she rocks against him, keeping herself from touching that cock any more than that little bit of teasing would allow.

No, the rest of the pleasure for today would come from the pounding away at his pleasant boy pussy. She grabs his ankles, holding them apart, and she continues that pegging, rutting, huffing, and grunting as she pounds away, the sounds of their exhalations mixed in with the soft plapping of thighs against cheeks.

And Lerato can keep up such a pounding long and hard and sustained. Over and over and over again, she rocks into Lovemore, and with each thrust, he feels another flood of delight as his insides are churned with the powerful pole.

There may be nothing like a good cock going at it inside his works, but there’s definitely nothing at all in this world like his very own wife doing the pounding with her strong, gloved hands, her well-toned body, and her dedicated and determined gaze, and the whiff of her muskiness. It all serves to drive him over the edge, and over the edge he goes!

An anal orgasm is much more powerful than the easy-to-achieve one someone can get from rubbing their dick. The overwhelming feeling of delight and satisfaction almost serves to rewire the entire brain through the overstimulation of pressing one body part over and over again. It must be a trick of the gods that such a glorious thing should be hidden deep in the bowels of the penis havers of this world, and as he shoots off onto himself in oozing warm goop, he pities those who do not have prostates for not being able to know such joys.

But he isn’t the only one to go off. No, Lerato’s inner walls constrict around the cock inside her, synapses firing all throughout her body as her own orgasm claims her. Such practice to get the two of them to go off at the same time is a testament to their love, and the fact that she could get off to being so domineering, despite her other proclivities, makes it all the more special.

The fake phallus within both of them senses the climax, and from both ends it fires off its own facsimile of fluid into each of them. Spurt after spurt comes out until the two of them collapse.

And so ends another session in the day of the life of Lerato and Lovemore, fully satisfied and collapsing next to each other, panting and sighing in delight, naked in her workshop and happy… oh so happy.

Lovemore dresses up in a nice casual getup featuring a jacket and slacks with a button-up top. He enjoys his time here at Baker’s, smug with himself as he sees the proprietor talking to some of the other customers, none the wiser that he and his wife had pulled off quite the hacking heist on the construct’s secret to preserving himself.

It was a daring heist, involving tricking the cute confectioner and rewriting his memories, but that isn’t anything too difficult to do for the daring dik-dik duo. But he’s not here just to stroke his own ego.

Lerato clicks her way over toward the seat, carrying drinks and sitting down across from her lover. She undoes her heavy coat to reveal the lovely little dress that she wears underneath.

“It’s good to get away from being all cooped up, isn’t it?” says Lovemore, taking his hot cocoa from her and blowing on the marshmallow-covered drink.

“Only to be cooped up in another building?” Lerato teases, sipping her black coffee.

“Now, now, my deer,” Lovemore says, taking a tentative sip, only to squeak and put his drink down. It’ll be cool enough later. “What have I said about teasing in public?”

She smirks and leans forward, her hoof lifting up, tip stroking up and down the side of his leg. “Only do it when I can get away with it.”

Lovemore blushes a little, spreading his hooves apart just a bit. He swirls his hoof tip over at the rim of his mug, staring at the lumps of sugary mush melting into the molten mocha masterpiece. “So, what do you have planned for today?” He asks.

Lerato leans back, draping one arm over the back of the chair. Blowing some hot air out, she scratches her cheek and muses. “Oh, I don’t know. I think today I feel like watching.”

“Wuh-watching?” Lovemore says.

“Yeah,” says Lerato, leaning in, elbow on the table. “And maybe I’ll join in once I’ve had a good enough show.”

Lovemore shakes his head. “Well, I was talking about creations or the like,” he admits. “But I suppose I could find it in myself to partake in some exhibitionism for my lady love.”

“Oh yeah? Well then, let’s see who we have, shall we?”

“Right here?” he squeaks.

“Sure,” says Lerato, stroking up and down, slowly and methodically. “And you have to be the one to approach them.”

“Mrrgh…”

Lerato leans back, scanning over the cafe. She hums to herself as her eyes glaze across the various patrons, enjoying a morning treat or talking to others about the current state of science or politics. There is quite a metropolitan mix of individuals here, as usual, from the staff to the customers; there is much to consider. Of course, she knows her hubby well, and Lerato lifts her gloved hand, unfurling her finger to a definitive point, leading straight toward one of the individuals.

He’s a scholarly sort. Obviously, one of the many people who hail from the University. Dressed in a sweater vest and slacks with small glasses pinched over his nose, the orcish man looks simply massive over the small pieces of paper he scribbles his notes upon, and his outfit is so tight on his form that if he were to flex his muscles, he would probably tear through something.

“Oh my,” Lovemore says, adjusting his collar.

“You two should have stuff in common,” Lerato says.

“I can only imagine if I ran into him after an unsuccessful attempt at flirting,” the husband of the pair admits.

Lerato rolls her eyes. “And when have my choices failed you, Love?”

Lovemore’s ears lower as he taps his hooves together. “None so far, my deer.”

“Of course,” Lerato says, crossing her leg that was stroking him over the other one and turning herself to face halfway towards the scholar. “So go ahead. Shoot your shot.”

Lovemore sighs and pushes himself up from his seat. “Yes, my deer,” he says, pulling his glasses off his face and pocketing them in his breast pocket. He stumbles his way through the crowded cafe, leaving Lerato to watch the scene as it unfolds.

There’s the curious little creature routine that he pulls off, putting his hooves behind his back and pushing himself up so that he looks over the work that the man is doing.

The scholar blinks and lifts his head, speaking to the male dik-dik. His relaxed posture suggests that her choice has been good so far.

Lovemore giggles in response to something, leaning against the table, stroking it slowly along the side. It’s a nice gesture, indeed, a smooth move.

Lerato bites her lip, squeezing her legs together. She strums the table with her gloved hand, anticipating what is to come next.

Lovemore titters himself, his hoof moving to the scholar’s thigh. Looks like the net is cast. Now to reel him in.

The scholar’s shoulders rumble as he looks about, leaning in and whispering something, obviously reciprocating what her hubby is putting down.

That’s when Lovemore gestures to her, his face full of excitement and love.

The scholar looks up, adjusting his glasses as he looks over toward Lerato. As she has done so many times in the past, she snickers slightly and waves at the newly corralled bull. Once she’s acknowledged, she makes her exit, leading the two exactly where she wants them to be: away from here and someplace where the three of them can have their fun.

Lovemore, meanwhile, finds himself beside his newly found companion. He’s quite an interesting man, indeed, and certainly one he would love to learn more from in less intimate circumstances, but the wife wants what she wants, and he’s always happy to give her exactly what that is.

He just wants to make sure she gives him his hot chocolate.

Lerato may be one to call the shots in the household, in the bedroom, or out on a quest, but there is a little lingering secret that she harbors deep inside her mind. This she shares with anyone who happens to be brought into the marriage, whether for an extended duration or a single-use session.

“It’s really simple,” says the dik-dik, having led her husband and the orcish scholar from Baker’s all the way to their shared bedroom. She lowers one dress strap from her shoulder and lets gravity do the work, baring her shoulder in an illusion. “My Love is quite good at what he does, and I like to watch him do it. I trust I don’t need to explain myself.”

The orc strokes his chin, rough stubble rubbing against the writer’s calluses. “No, miss.” He says this with his gruff voice.

“That’s good,” she says, finding her favorite little seat and hopping onto it, sitting with her knees brought together and her hands sitting upon her lap, leaning in, her ears twitching. ‘You may begin.”

The scholar coughs and looks down at the smaller male standing, staring up from waist height. “Well, I, uh, I’ve never done this before. It’s all so new.”

Lovemore places his hoof upon the scholar’s thigh, stroking up and down and looking to him with hooded eyes. “You sounded quite eager at the cafe, sir.”

The scholar grunts at this and fumbles about with his belt, undoing it and the button that keeps his pants up. This is enough for Lovemore to pinch his pants and lower them. “Go ahead,” he commands. “Sit. Yes, facing that way. Perfect angle, yes?” He addresses Lerato without speaking directly to her. Pretending to be alone is part of the illusion. It’s part of what makes this so wonderful.

Lerato sits there quietly, biting her lip as the larger male’s massive member flops out from his pants, his balls huge and squishing between his thighs.

“Wow,” Lovemore says, huffing gently as he looks to the length, pressing his chin to the bed, his eyes crossing to take in the height, his ears wiggling.

After the initial appraisal, Lovemore wiggles out of his top, tossing the thing aside. There they are, two scholarly gents, one without a top and one without bottoms, the smaller of the two crawling up on the bed to join his companion and to press his muzzle right up against those big, musky balls of his.

The orc grunts, shifting a bit as his cock flops over on top of the bridge of Lovemore’s snout. The larger male grips the sheets on the mattress, squirming slightly. The subtle movements of Lovemore’s head serve to stroke and slide over the cock, playing with it without having to touch it with his mouth. That part of his body is busy kissing those massive, meaty orbs, rolling out his tongue, and tasting those signs of masculinity.

The scholar lets slip a little grunt, and his hand tentatively raises, presses down, and then rises again, placing its larger self upon the back of Lovemore’s head. The owner tilts his head back and sighs as he brings the dik-dik up more, wanting, no needing, more attention now.

Lovemore knows this man’s needs and slides his tongue upward to the base of the cock, slipping further up along its large length and flicking at the tip of the head. The thing is big, but certainly not the biggest that Lovemore has taken in the name of his lady love, and he proves that by wrapping his mouth around the thing, placing his hooves on the larger man’s hips to give himself a good hold before he slowly lowers his face downward, taking the thing in a slow, cheek-pluffing suck.

“Ye gods,” the scholar grunts, one eye closed and the other staring downward towards the small mane beneath him, tail wagging playfully and butt doing the same. Seeing that thing tight in the trousers sends a signal through the larger man, stiffening up his already stiffened member, which Lovemore licks with all the passion he can muster.

Lerato’s dress slips down, exposing a breast. She’s already playing with it, swirling fingers over her nipple, licking her lips, and biting them in alternating movements. Her other hand hitches up her dress, plunging down between her legs. Her glove is big, but it is great for all sorts of fine motor skills, especially pleasing herself, and how could she not with such a pleasing sight to behold indeed?

Lovemore continues to slide up and down, up and down, upon that wonderful shaft, letting out little squeaking moans as he samples its manly taste and indulges in the warmth it provides. The dildo his wife had was wonderful indeed, but there’s absolutely nothing like a real cock, and he thanks all in the universe he found a woman who would let him indulge.

The orc’s pantings and sighing become more like haggard grunting, and he reaches forward, grabbing the dik-dik by the horn.

Lovemore squeaks, pulled up by the man, staring the guy in the face with wide-eyed confusion and concern.

“This ain’t doin’ it.” The orc says.

“Oh, but you’re so hot and heavy,” Lovemore says, fluttering his eyes.

“I know,” the orc responds, rubbing the back of his head. “It’s just… she’s all alone over there. Look at her.”

Lerato rolls her eyes and drops her dress. “If you don’t want me to be alone, then Lovemore can just fuck me.” She says this, lifting her dress up over her head, undoing the rest of her undergarments, and stomping over to the bed.”

“Well, that makes sense and all,” the scholar replies. “Guess I should see myself out.”

“Oh no, you don’t,” Lovemore says, stroking the cock between two hooves. “We’re still having fun together. Just because I’m going to please my wife doesn't mean that we have to stop.

Lerato crawls onto the bed, lying on her stomach, her chest pressed to the bed. She lifts up her hips and wiggles them. “Well then, love,” she says. “Come on over and claim me.”

Lovemore gulps as he sees his wife presenting herself. He slips out of his pants with no issue, kicking them off and crawling up over to her with the giddy excitement of the energized little gremlin that he has become. He mounts her, legs over her legs, rubbing his dik-dik dick over her dik-dik pussy, wrapping his dik-dik arms around her dik-dik chest, and pressing his dik-dik body against her dik-dik back.

Lerato sighs, rubbing against that cock, letting it pet her pussy as Lovemore grinds against her, but with her gloved hand moving back behind herself, she wraps her mechanical fingers around his shaft and pushes him forward, letting his head slip in between her lips, causing her to squeal and sigh in delight.

Lovemore holds his wife tightly, grunting into her shoulder as he fucks her, thrusting away with an animalistic need. Gone are the slow, dedicated motions of his cock sucking. Now, he is a stud, pumping away at his wife’s wet hole, making the wet plapping sounds fill the room, and more importantly, fill the ears of their orcish third.

The scholar adjusts his collar, his free cock still quite hard from the previous attentions that Lovemore had given it, but as he watches the two antelope rutting each other on the bed, making the thing squeak and rock on its wooden frame. He grunts and pushes himself up, throwing off his vest and furiously unbuttoning his top. He throws it off of his rough and broad chest, revealing his light matte of hair over himself. He climbs forward, grabbing the male dik-dik by the rump and spreading his cheeks.

Lovemore lifts his tail, looking over his shoulder, his eyes half-hooded. He groans, his voice high and needy even as he plows his wife. With the extent of his mind, he mutters the encantation to provide the lubrication spell.

With that made, the orc pushes forward, his cock so big compared to the small body of the dik-dik. He grunts and throws his head back, huffing and puffing as the thing spreads Lovemore out, pushing in deeper, spreading the dik-dik more and more out.

Lovemore buries his face into his lover’s shoulder, and Lerato groans when she feels the outline of the orcish hammer poke through her husband’s stomach to rub at her back.

Now all together, the three of them continue the continuous fucking. It’s a very disorganized affair, the three of them out of sync with each other. This often leads to some dead air for Lerato and squishing for the Lucky Pierre that is Lovemore.

The pile falls over at one point, leaving the three on their sides, thrusting and groping and rolling around together, panting and huffing, groaning and moaning. It’s something that keeps going until the orcish scholar grits his teeth, hissing through it, crying out. “I’m about to.. To… aaughhh!”

And he couldn’t hold it back. He shoots his massive load into the tiny hole that is Lovemore, filling and inflating the little dik-dik until the cock pops out, leaving Lovemore lying there, his boypussy leaking with creamy ooze.

The nutting hits him just right, sending him over the edge, releasing into his lover, filling her up to the brim before he can pull out, leaving her cream-pied, though not as much as he and his gaping hole.

Lerato sighs happily, her eyes fluttering as she lies on the bed, her hooves shuffling against the sheets, her gloved hand going through her hair. “Oh… ho… fuck…” she sighs.

The orc rolls onto his back, his cock flopping onto his stomach and side, dripping with cum. Lovemore pushes himself up and curls up against one side, nuzzling against him and keeping his face close to the man’s chest.

Lerato scoots up and hugs her hubby, enjoying the warmth of the little man next to her, their fur rubbing and brushing against one another.

“That was… that was pretty good.” The orcish scholar says, running a hand over his head. “Hah… yeah. I’m glad I followed you.”

“I told you it’d be a good time,” Lovemore says, scooting up and placing a little kiss on the larger male’s cheek.

“Your lady love alright?”

“Don’t you worry about me,” Lerato says. “Seeing Lovemore so filled up is enough for me. You did a good job on him.”

The scholar sighs and pushes himself up, scratching his chest. “You two sure are strange.”

“Why’s that?” Lerato says, pushing herself up.

“I dunno, just,” he shrugs. “Never met a married couple quite like you, I suppose. Usually, when people ask me out like this, it’s the man wanting to do the watchin’.”

“Oh, so you bull often?” she says, fluttering her eyes.

“Well, uh, no, actually,” he says, sighing. “Doesn’t stop people from asking me.”

She scoots over, placing a hand on his chest. Lovemore places a hand on his well-toned tummy. Both of them stroke the larger guy tenderly.

He chuckles slightly, placing his hands on both of their heads. “You two might be keepers.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” the smaller male says, nuzzling up against his side. “I always want more scholarly friends.”

“He needs more friends in general. Always has his head in books.” Lerato says.

“Hah, don’t I know that.” The orc responds with a barking laugh.

“So, just out of curiosity,” Lovemore says, blinking and pressing his chest up against the orc’s body. “What exactly was it you were writing about in the cafe?”

“Oh, that?” says the orc. “You probably wouldn’t be interested.

“No, tell us. Tell us!” They both say, excitedly rocking him.

“Okay, okay! You win. I’ll tell ya.” And so, with a deep breath, he began to divulge all of his secrets.

And the dik-diks exchange knowing, mischievous glances at one another in the process.

A secret study, a hidden artifact, and two thieving dik-diks always looking for their next big score—there’s nothing so perfect as happenstance giving the pair exactly what they wanted. The heist would take place at one of the satellite campuses just outside the city walls, where research can be conducted without the regulations and ordinances that keep mad magic at bay. That serves the dik-diks well enough, as it means they can traverse there without pesky laws getting in their way either.

The guards hired to watch the place were the run-of-the-mill adventurer types—figures who don’t want to do the more dangerous jobs and are just seeking a steady pay day instead of the wildly differing rewards for more exotic quests. This means they are simple and unchallenged—the perfect target for a straightforward strike.

In the middle of the night, when the graveyard shift guardians sigh and blink their sleepy eyes, a figure emerges from the forest. Could it be a fairy trickster? A monster of ill intent? The guards have to be ready for anything, but they aren’t quite ready for the arcane propulsion that sends the mechanical menace forward, a large hand grabbing the first guard by his polearm and lifting him high into the air. Through glowing red eyes, the creature stares at its prey, flinging him behind, sending him flying until he eats dirt.

A second guard raises her weapon against the marching machine, only for the attack to glance off its sturdy armor. With a simple slap, it sends the protector careening and tumbling next to her partner, allowing the building's door to be opened without any problem. All it takes is a quick hold of the door and a yank to pull it off its hinges.

And within this convoluted construction, there sit two dik-diks, Lerato above Lovemore, each of them operating different aspects of their creation, a veritable child of their minds powered by their own wills.

“What did I tell you, Love?” Lerato says as she flips a few switches. “Easy as pie.”

“It’s all because of your unflappable design skills, my deer,” Lovemore says, placing a hand upon his chest and chortling with pride for his lady love.

“Oh, please. If you hadn’t charmed that researcher, we would have never found this wonderful treasure.”

“And what a treasure it is,” Lerato says, leaning in and staring through the viewing glass that allows her to see through the construct’s eyes. There, sitting in a case, is a large chunk of some dark stone, a jewel of unknown origin, and the subject of the scholar’s study.

A ticket tape prints out in front of Lovemore, and he holds the thing in his hooves, staring over the analysis, his eyes widening. “My deer, the magical properties of this stone are like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

“It’ll be a marvel to work with, for sure,” Lerato says, reaching forward with both massive machine hands to grab the goods.

But as they are about to lift it up, that’s when the door on the other side slams open, and the orcish scholar stands on the other end, a staff in one hand and magic flowing from the other.

“I don’t know who you are,” he growls, “But you’re not taking that.”

Lerato flips a few switches, and a horn pops out in front of her face. As she speaks, the tubes and the sigils enscribed upon them mask her voice, giving the machine a dark, deep timbre.

“Oh, so you think you can do any better than your guards?” she asks, boasting. She curls the creation’s fingers toward the core and nods its head. “Come on, then. Show us what you got!”

The orc sighs and pulls his glasses off. With a gasp of magical power, his robes tear off him, leaving him naked to the waist, and his body explodes into a wall of muscles, larger and broader and stronger than ever before.

“Oh, my!” Lovemore blushes, quickly fiddling with some controls.

The orc rushes, swinging the staff with great acrobatic and athletic control, striking at the construct by its legs, but the quick thinking of Lovemore makes it leap up, flinging a leg forward in a kick that hits the scholar by the jaw.

“Oooh, hoo, so you transmute your own body with your magic. Way to work the stereotype,” taunts Lerato, clicking a few buttons and tapping a few switches. The construct grabs the staff, yanking it away from the scholar.

He snorts and thrusts his palms forward, muttering arcane words of power. This disrupts the visuals on the creation, leaving the dik-diks in the dark.

That’s when their opponent spins around, performing a powerful kick that sends the creation toppling backward toward the door where it came from, and as he holds onto his stance, he charges up a powerful magical burst of energy.

“Pick us up, pick us up!” Lovemore shouts, frantically working on the defenses.

“I can’t. Something’s jammed!” Lerato says, frantically pulling on a lever

“This gem cannot fall into the wrong hands,” the scholar says. “It would be disastrous. And with that, he thrusts his arms forward, and the ensuing energy grabs the construct, lifting it high into the air. It groans and cracks, twisted in an uncomfortable position before suddenly pressurizing into a crumpled mess, screaming with its final steams.

The thing falls to the floor, clanging dully as the orc sighs and sits down, wiping his brow with the back of his head.

Meanwhile, miles away in the confines of their home, Lovemore and Lerato sit, the console of their remote-controlled machine dead as the thing they were piloting. Lerato kicks the console and snarls, leaning back and drooping her arms over the back of the seat. “Dammit! That system cost a fortune to perfect!”

Lovemore hops up from his seat and wraps his arms around his wife, peppering her with kisses. “But just imagine what would have happened if we had been actually piloting that thing!” Between his kisses, he sobs and sighs, leaving Lerato to pat the back of his head and shake hers. “Yeah, well, I guess it was worth it as a field test. Still… what is that stone?”

“Whatever it is,” Lovemore says, smirking slightly. “We’ll get it one day, one way or another.”

Lerato has been tinkering with her tools for a while, and Lovemore watches her from the entry to her workshop. The male dik-dik frowns as he watches her, folding his arms over his chest. This isn’t like any other time for her. She’s been at this for a while now. He clicks his hooves together, tapping a hoof on the floor, and then he finally takes a breath to head on in.

Lerato lifts her large wrench and points it at him. Lifting her head, she stares at her husband through her goggles. “The last creation failed. I have to do better.”

“But, my deer,” Lovemore whines, taking more steps to his lover, “you work so hard on your projects. Let this one go for now.”

“It was a test run of a new system,” Lerato says to herself, dropping her wrench and grabbing the edge of her table, hunching her shoulders, which tremble, “But that could have been us, Love. Just like we could have died out in the cold when we messed with that damned kobold.”

“You’ve been thinking about it too, have you?” Lovemore says, frowning.

“I think we need a little bit of a break,” Lerato admits, turning to face her lover.

He puffs out his chest and steps up to her, placing his hooves on her arms. Leaning in, Lovemore presses his snout against hers and rubs. The tenderness makes her soften up immediately, and when he opens up his mouth, she eagerly pushes herself forward, locking lips with him.

They hold each other for a moment, for a long moment, perhaps, but eventually, they pull back from the long kiss to look into each other’s eyes.

“We need a little break,” Lovemore says. “But not a long one.”

Lerato smirks back at Lovemore. “And you have an idea how we can spend that break, do you, Love?”

He clasps her hand between his hooves and pulls her away from the table, nuzzling against her before leading her away from the dirty old work station.

The shower rushes hot water down through the cold bathroom, and the two undressed dik-diks step in together, Lerato letting the water rush over her fur and patting her hair down over her head.

Lovemore tenderly kisses her shoulder, clipping a loofah in his hoof and pressing the soaped-up thing up against his lover’s back. “Perhaps a vacation is in order,” he says, scrubbing away, getting the dirt and grim and sweat off of her.

Lerato’s ears flicker as she closes her eyes, leaning back and sighing. “Yeah, that could work… a little vacation—just the two of us.”

“Away from places that could incriminate us,” Lovemore continues, kissing her shoulder.

“Away from bothersome kobolds,” she adds, turning around to face him. She lets her hooves rub against his cheeks as she lifts his head, facing her. “But we can’t get distracted.”

Lovemore looks up from Lerato’s chest, blinking through his cloudy vision. He ushers out a little hum of confusion and intrigue before returning her gaze.

"We have to keep our eyes on what truly matters.”

“Each other?”

She giggles, patting him on the head. “Well, that, of course, but I meant more of getting that treasure.”

He rolls his eyes and wraps his arms around his beloved. “We’ll get it eventually… or something like it.”

“You have an idea on that front?” Lerato asks.

“Most elements and magical materials can be fabricated or at least tracked, certainly. We just need to learn more about it, and we can probably create something to lead us to more—more that isn’t heavily guarded.”

“Lots of good plans,” Lerato says, patting him on the shoulder and pulling him close, “But you’re right—there’s plenty of time to figure things out. In the meantime, let’s go have some fun.

Lerato presses her nose right up against Lovemore’s snout, and the two of them indulge in a little nuzzling together in the heart of her workshop.