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.
Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.
-----
The world was silent around them. Yet the echo of the slammed front door resounded in their hearts.
Sasha and Car froze where they had been trying to placate Fyr...though what in the world could they have said? They knew what they'd been doing was wrong, so wrong. There was nothing in the world that could have made that right again.
Standing, Car slumped forward, his head in his paws, lacing his fingers at the back of his back. He hadn't even been able to close the distance between them, his shoulders aching where her claws had dug into him, where she had bashed him about. It was not as if he hadn't deserved it. He would have rather had that than the aching, turning, curdling pain in the pit of his stomach, his cock finally soft. Fat lot of good that was going to do him then, not after all that.
"God fucking damn it."
As if that could change things. As if that could make things right again. He'd followed his lusts, taken care of his "needs" -- and for what? To feel good? To end up hurting Fyr?
"I..."
Sasha dropped back, not realising that her paw had been lifted, extended in the direction of the open living room door, through which Fyr had escaped to the hallway.
The front door, she thought dimly. She had to close the front door. That meant that she had to put her clothes on.
That was the only way she was going to get through everything: one step at a time. One act at a time. One action at a time.
Panties back into place.
Her T-shirt pulled down.
Enough to close the front door.
Carenath fumbled for his clothes, blinking away moisture from his eyes that he refused to acknowledge, heaving, panting, no longer from a sexual means. All that was gone, out the window, the only thought in his head that he had to follow Fyr, that he had to catch up with her. Yet his clothes were scattered and he snarled and slammed his paws into the back of the sofa in an act of frustration that he was not due, fighting to remain in control.
Why hadn't he said anything? He could have done something, said something, stopped her from going. There wasn't any explanation that he could have given Fyr, not when he didn't even know what was going on with him anyway, but he could have at least fucking tried.
But what had he done? Fuck all, fucking nothing, nada, zip, thank you very much, sir, and goodbye!
"Car -- what are you doing?"
Sasha paused in the doorway, coming back from closing the door, locking it again, though...well...she knew then that she had been the one that had forgotten to lock it. That was how Fyr had gotten in when they'd thought that they were alone, that they were going to get away with it. In hindsight, it was all too easy to see how they had been fools.
"Going the fuck after her, of course!"
He was relentless, not even getting his socks on, only shoes, staggering out the door while Sasha tried to find something. She'd have to follow him in her own car, even if the carnage there would have to be cleaned up before Carenath's parents returned. Sasha didn't know why that thought popped into her head, the dim awareness that there was something else to be taken care of so that they didn't get found out.
But the shit had hit the fan already, so what did she fucking care about any of that?
She chased after Car, hoping that he was driving safely even when he wasn't, his car swerving back and forth in front of her, though never crossing the white line in the middle of the road. She was grateful for that, not wanting to see any harm come to anyone, but the state in which Fyr had been when she had left the house...
Was...Fyr safe?
"Shit."
She swallowed hard, striving to quell the racing of her heart, other traffic on the road a mere inconvenience to her as she overtook a lorry, keeping up with Car, breaking the speed limits -- but who cared about the rules? She'd already broken the cardinal one, the one that mattered more than anything else, and there she was not even able to keep her own daughter safe.
The white of the streetlights flashed across her muzzle, yet she would rather have remained shrouded in darkness. It wasn't for her. Not after what had happened.
She had to make sure her daughter was safe. Yes, that, she had to do that.
Her phone... Her phone...
She dragged it out of her pocket, balancing it on the dashboard, dialling Fyr's number. Of course, it only rang. And rang. And rang.
Of course, Fyr wasn't going to fucking answer. Sasha wouldn't have answered if it had been her mother who'd fucked her boyfriend...
Back to the apartment, the one that Fyr had only moved into recently with Car. Oh, how foolish an errand that seemed now that Car leapt out of the vehicle, cursing, stumbling, one of his shoelaces untied.
At least Fyr's car was there, Sasha hot on his heels as she screeched into the small car park behind him, slinging the car in against a hedge at an angle. As far as parking went, that would have to do.
"Where is she?"
Sasha all but shrieked as she leapt from the car, no more and no less than a mother in the dark of the night, fearful for her daughter's life. The quiet of the night seemed to turn all heads, even if there was no one there, towards them, her voice and sobs slicing through the air.
Car shook his head.
"Car's here. Looks fine."
He had to see Fyr, had to explain to her, had to tell her how sorry he was, how much he loved her. that was all he needed to do, everything he had to do, bringing to a close something between them that should never have come to pass. He didn't want to be forgiven, no, but he wanted the chance to make it up to her, to show her, in some way, every day for the rest of his life, that it was her, it was always her, that he loved her more than life itself.
The thing was, the drake knew too that it was never going to be his choice. Not even as he let himself into the apartment, fumbling to get his key into the lock, his paw shaking, breath catching, hitching in his chest.
No. No crying. That wasn't for him. No. Not after all that he had done to Fyr.
"Fyr? Fyr are you here? Please say something!"
She was there, of course, but that didn't mean that she wanted to talk to him. Her phone buzzed away, shoved into her pocket, the dragoness clenching her jaw as she locked her teeth together.
She packed. Only what she needed, the large holdall type bag on the bed. She was tempted to take the sheets too, but she didn't want to waste the time ripping them off the bed, not when they had followed her. She'd hoped they wouldn't, they were just going to make it more difficult for her. And didn't they see that they had already made things more than difficult enough for her? Had tearing her life and her love down to the ground not been fucking enough for them?
No. She blinked tears from her eyes, claws biting into the palms of her paws as she snatched and grabbed, intent on filling her bag. Clothes. Electronics. Everything that was hers. Fuck everything else. She had to get out, away from there, away from him. Nothing else was as important as that.
Fuck the bastard. Just because he was there, that he had come after her... That didn't mean shit. Nothing to her, nothing at all. He didn't have to be anything to her, not after all that he had done, everything that he had broken in her heart. She would spend years picking up the fragments of it, her trust broken, her life... Well, to say that everything she had hoped for was in shreds was an understatement.
Stupid, so fucking stupid. Hadn't she thought, earlier, that there were some things going on, something that she wasn't quite paying attention to? She'd thought that he was spending too much time around her mother -- and wasn't it simply laughable that she had concluded, in the end, that he was trying to do no more than to be a good boyfriend to her and her mother? Well, the second was true in a way, but that kind of closeness was not what Fyr had anticipated in her mind, let alone her heart!
She wished she'd seen the signs earlier, everything coming together in the lesser glory of hindsight. There was no pleasure in telling herself "I told you so" when her suspicions, the dark seeds of jealousy that she had thrust down as deeply as she had been able to, had been proven right, all in the end.
She didn't want to be right. She wanted to be wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
She growled deep in the back of her throat as she snatched up one of her favourite ornaments, the little porcelain horse that she kept on her bedside table beside the lamp and nothing else. She made sure that she had her electronic chargers, the handheld gaming device where she played with Kao, even though she had moved out. He still liked to game with her in the evening and, ridiculously, she had been spending more time with him lately since Car had been so busy.
Guess there was no wondering what he had been busy with after all that bullshit then...
The door slammed open, a body bundling into the bedroom, a flurry of bronze scales and apologies that meant nothing to her. Her gaze hardened. Fuck him.
Damn. He'd found her. There wasn't language strong enough for him, but if she had voiced the words running around her head aloud, they would have begun with a "C" and ended with a "T". She had others to spill if she was ready to.
He grabbed her by the shoulders in the bedroom, though did not shake her. Fyr refused to look at him.
"Fyr, please talk to me, please say something."
Maybe she would have fallen for it, his pleading, the shine in his eyes, if he had not cheated on her with her mother. Maybe she would have wondered if she had done something wrong, if it had been because of her, if maybe she had not put out enough or been adventurous enough. Yet how the fuck could any of that be true when it was her own mother that he had cheated on her with? There wasn't much coming back from that.