This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.
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Cuckolded by her Mother
Chapter 3
Fyr sighed and closed the truck door with a slam, her bad temper brewing all the more fiercely. The wind picked up, whipping her scales, and she was thankful that she did not have the long hair of some furs for the bad weather to make a mess of. Her red scales, slashed through with yellow stripes, held their colour and form perfectly even if she didn't have the fur to keep her warm either. The only thing that the weather seemed to mess with was the frills on either side of her head where her ears should have been, directing sound to the indents that were her ears. In the wind, they flapped back and forth as if with a mind of their own. She scowled and pinned them down with her paws, handbag slung over her arm.
"Honestly," she muttered. "Can't I get any help anymore? Would it really have been so hard for one of them to get it together and get out and help me? Really?"
With as much grace as she could manage, she held her head high and stormed across the car park, avoiding a loose carrier bag that scudded across the tarmac. A mother feline with two kittens running in circles around her trudged ahead with her head lowered against the wind. The chain supermarket loomed ahead, storm clouds gathering in the not so far off distance. There were few other cars left in the car park besides those evidently belonging to employees, with most other furs having taken cover for the day - and not without due reason.
Fyr was hardly one to be put off by the threat of a few high winds, however. They rarely got the ilk of hurricanes in her neck of the woods, but other furs did tend to be overly cautious. Her mother was one of them. Her frown deepened and she rubbed her temples as she stepped into the large supermarket, following the feline as she strapped the smallest of her kittens into a seat in a shopping trolley.
"I'm surprised to see anyone else out in this weather," the cat commented as Fyr snatched up a shopping trolley from the row beside her. "I hope my little ones won't cause you too much trouble in here. They do tend to run around."
"Bad weather won't keep me inside," Fyr said, chancing a small smile. "And I'm sure they won't be too much trouble. Are they a little unruly for you?"
The cat grimaced and smoothed the black fur atop her head flat as the tom-kitten in the trolley shrieked and slammed his paws into the handle.
"You could say that. I always get such funny looks when I take them shopping normally. But the worst of the winds aren't due to hit for hours yet, so I thought I'd best get some milk in for them while I had time."
"Same as I'm doing." Fyr dragged a crumpled sheet of paper from the pocket of her jeans and held it up as if to make a point of what she was trying to say. "Want to get food in for my mother and husband before the rain really comes down. The wind doesn't bother me. It's not going to reach the speeds they said earlier anyway - the weather reports have changed since."
"Oh, that's so kind of you!" The cat clasped her paws to her chest, whiskers quivering in a smile. "My husband is away, so I couldn't ask him to go instead, but it was so kind of you."
She put her paws on the trolley, halfway on her way to get her shopping done even as she shot the breeze with Fyr.
"Is it your mother's husband that's in town? Do you have a step-father?"
Fyr hesitated, biting the inside of her cheek lightly. The cat smiled politely as her female kitten tugged at her skirt, asking for her mom over and over again, a nagging monotone in the background of their interlude in the storm.
"No, no - he's my husband," she forced out, her smile forced as her heart leapt into her throat. "My mother is only staying with us for a while. She's on vacation."
The words did not flow and she knew it, busying herself with her trolley as she made a pretence of being in a rush all of a sudden. Bidding farewell to the feline, who she'd only known for but a few minutes, she hurried on her way, hoping that the cat hadn't noticed the heat in her cheeks while she'd been preoccupied with her bouncing, boundless kittens. For her question had raised more questions than Fyr liked to address, for more than one reason.
Of course, the demon cougar, Ropes, was her husband. They were married. It was on paper. It could not be denied and it certainly could not be changed; they had absolutely no reason to ever want to change it, despite still being in the admittedly early years of their marriage. Yet his relationship with her mother was untraditional to say the least.
Fyr sighed, though it was difficult for her to feel sad amongst all the confliction in her heart, desire colluding with what her heart told her.
He'd been acting more like Sasha's husband than hers lately.
No. She shook herself. That wasn't true. They knew the deal. They had a deal. Ropes and Sasha could do what they wanted. And that was all okay, wasn't it?
She frowned. That wasn't much of a deal. Maybe she hadn't quite thought it through as much as she should have done, but it was far too late to worry about that while she was out of the house and leaving the two of them alone. It wasn't too far-fetched to imagine that they were wrapped up in one another's arms at that very moment, enjoying Fyr's bedroom while she was out trying to provide for the two of them.
Though the thought of providing food and comfort for them brought a guilty little thrum of pleasure, if she was honest with herself in the wanderings of her mind. It was the same warm glow that she got when she cared for them after a session in the bedroom, Ropes' semen drooling from her mother's pussy as if it was the only one he'd ever filled or ever wanted to fill. Of course, he'd fuck her too, but half the fun for the dragoness had become the watching, the waiting and the always wondering what, just what, was going to happen next.
Moseying around the supermarket, Fyr made quick work of her list, letting her mind drift as her paws and feet worked busily. It wasn't hard work, not by any means, but it kept her occupied. But she could not keep herself busy when she reached an item on her list in a scrawl that was not her own.
She frowned, tilting her head from side to side as she tried to decipher what had to be Ropes' scrawl. Just what had the cougar tried to write down? What did he want her to pick up? Only God knew, as there was no telling what he'd wanted in the first place as far as his handwriting went.
Fyr hesitated. She'd said she wouldn't bother them and had left in more than a little bit of a huff. She was pretty much a pro at that. She pulled the phone from her pocket and stared at it as if it was going to leap from her paw and sink its teeth into her. What would she stumble into if she called home at such a time? Something or nothing at all?
Which one would she rather find?
Licking her lips, as her mouth as suddenly too dry to be comfortable, Fyr toyed with the phone, passing it from paw to paw. Did she want to call home only to hear moans of passion, or would she have preferred to just have her usual loving husband on the line? She shook her head, a low growl building in the back of her throat. But how was she to find out what Ropes wanted her to fetch for him if she didn't give them a quick ring.
One little phone call couldn't hurt.
Holding the phone up to the side of her head, Fyr bit her lip, shifting her weight from foot to foot as it rang. It was the landline so surely one of them should pick up? On and on it rang, the dragoness growing ever more antsy as she waited and waited and waited.
"Mm, hello?"
Fyr stiffened.
"Ropes? Is that you?"
The cougar breathed down the line. She swore she caught the rasp of his claws through the fur on the back of his neck. She relaxed. That couldn't be bad. Or did she want it to be bad?
"Who else would it be?"
