The Town Bike

The day had dawned hot and sticky, with a muffling blanket of humidity that one could cut with a knife, and had only gotten worse as the sun started to creep over the horizon. For Alison Dawes, the heat was a perfect excuse to skimp as much as possible on clothing – her mother clucked at her, then shook her fist at her, but Alison had simply skipped out, hopped onto her bike, slung her bag over her shoulder, and shot off into the gathering sunlight. Her tank-top immediately stuck to her small breasts like a second layer of skin, while her spanks and her short-shorts grew taut against the cleft of her ass, while her pale white skin gleamed in the morning light – sweat beading between her knuckles as she peddled out from behind her house.

Alison liked her job. It wasn't exactly easy for a high school graduate to get a job without a college degree – but there were advantages to having a dad who ran the local newspaper. Yeah, it wasn't worth a great deal of money...but she preferred a job that let her stretch her legs and feel the wind through her hair. She grinned and started to kick up the gears on her bike – peddling harder as she shot past houses, tossing the newspapers from her bag and towards the front doors. She almost pegged Mr. Alexopoulos in the head – making the old veteran spring backwards and start shouting at her in thick, syrupy Greek.

A few more blocks and a few more newspapers tossed away, Alison came to the first house she stopped by – the two story, neat little home of her boyfriend, Jamie. She grinned as she squeezed on the brakes and swept the back of her bike around – skidding to a stop and panting softly. She slipped off the bike, sprang free, then started towards the side of the house. Humming softly, she grabbed onto the upper edge of the windowsill on the lower level, then swung her feet up onto the lower edge of the sill. She pushed herself up, then scrambled to the next level of the house, slowly peeking into her boyfriend's bedroom...

And there, Alison Dawes got a face-full of bouncing furry

ass

.

A curvacious girl with a thick, downy coat of pale pink fur was sitting on Jamie's bed, her thighs spread, her slick pussy filled by Jamie's rock hard cock. Perched above those round cheeks was a tiny poof-ball of a tail, while her back was arched, making her breasts thrust out – the hard tips of her nipples clear despite her fur. Her head had a tiny button nose, small whiskers, and a pair of long floppy ears – ears that bounced in counterpoint to the rest of her body jiggling.

"Oh Jamie!" she moaned, her voice sweet and eager.

"Oh...

Jamie

?" Alison said. Her voice was not a moan. Not even

slightly

. In fact, it sounded considerably closer to a gun being cocked in human form than a voice.

"Alison!?" Jamie sat up, making the rabbit girl fall backwards, her thighs spread – his dick still buried in her pussy.

"My name is Rebecca!" the rabbit said, then rolled her head back. She squeaked. "Who are you!?"

"That's my question," Alison said, dragging herself up so that she could glare into the room. "That's MY BOYFRIEND!"

"He's

what!?"

Rebecca asked, her eyes wide.

"I, uh-" Jamie started. "I can explain!"

The two women in Jamie's life – soon to be the two women rapidly leaving Jamie's life – glared at him. Jamie blinked a bit – his eyes flicking down to Rebecca's paws – and noticed that while rabbits were herbivores, they did have digging claws. And those claws were out at the moment. Jamie jerked back, grabbed his blanket and fled his room as fast as his legs could carry him.

"I BREAK UP WITH YOU, BY THE WAY!" Alison shouted after him. As the door closed, Rebecca and Alison looked at one another. Alison shook her head slowly – not even feeling anger at the moment. More a dull shock, as if her stomach had been hollowed out.

"...sorry..." Rebecca whispered, rolling onto her belly, her breasts pressed to the bed. "F-Fucking asshole didn't even get me off."

Alison snorted – then giggled – then laughed. It was a touch hysterical, but it was a laugh. And in the end, wasn't that what mattered?

###

Shortly afterward, the two girls were sitting by the curb. Rebecca had gotten herself dressed in a flowing white shift and a short skirt, with large sandals that went around her equally large feet. She rested her pink chin in her paws and sighed quietly, while Alison shook her head.

"And the hell of it was," Rebecca said. "He's not even as..." she coughed. "I mean, he wasn't...all that good or anything."

"He talked nice, he did," Alison muttered. "And has a lot of money. And you kinda think that means he has to be nice, huh?"

"We're both idiots," Rebecca moaned, sliding her head forward so her paws covered her eyes.

"I vote that, instead, we both consider him a massive tool and move on with our lives," Alison said. She thought she should cry – but she didn't feel like crying. Instead, she felt like finding Jamie and beating the crap out of him. It was like her tear-ducts were blocked by intense boulders of pure anger and grumpiness, transmuted into solid lead by...something else. And that something else was what had lead her to scrambling up the side of a building instead of just ringing the doorbell. That something else buzzed between her legs, despite Jamie cheating on her.

She was

horny

as

fuck

.

Alison had gone a solid five days without getting nailed by Jamie.

Five.

Days.

In a relationship which had started when Jamie had walked into the wrong locker room after getting tackled really hard on the football field and found her jilling off in the shower stall. In a relationship where they'd tried every permutation of getting dicked at school before graduation had forced them to both take their perversions to the local park – and where she still had fond memories of needing to be gagged with her own panties so her groans didn't attract the notice of Officer Stavros, a burly bull who had come so close to the bushes they had been screwing in that she could see his nose-ring.

Five days without sex had lead her to burning out three vibrators.

Five days...Alison realized, suddenly, that Rebecca was speaking, and the words had gone one in hole and out the other. Honestly, Alison wouldn't have minded that if they were the right holes. And she wasn't even sure what that

meant

. She shook her head, slowly. "S-Sorry, Becca, I was woolgathering, what did you say?"

"Oh, nothing," Rebecca said, smiling. "But...are you a newspaper girl?"

"SHITFIRE!" Alison sprang to her feet. "I need to get back to work!"

Alison peddled away from the smoldering wreckage of her relationship and started to toss papers before she came to the railroad tracks that bisected the center of the city – and across it, she could see where demographics shifted dramatically (as her father would have put it.) The houses and buildings didn't become shabbier, but the people walking the street got a hell of a lot fluffier. She shook her head a bit.

"I never got why there's furs on one side, humans on the other..." she muttered, tossing a newspaper into the front lawn of a rather large, nice looking house. The front door opened and before she peddled off, she heard a rich, deep male voice call after her.

"Now, don't ride off 'fore I thank you, miss!"

She hit the brakes, grinning – then blinked.

The man walking towards her was a horse – but...she hadn't even gotten this close to a horse before. The furry community here was mostly cats, a few dogs, a load of herbivores. Though, to be fair, this fellow was a herbivore too – but he was

built

. Broad, muscular shoulders, with biceps almost as big as her clenched fist stacked on another clenched fist. He wore a loose set of robes, which spread wide over a belly that jiggled slightly with fat – it was wide enough and bulged outwards enough that he had a bit of sag over the hemline of his shorts...but under and around the fat were muscles – enough to show that he loved to work out as much as he loved to eat.

His fur was midnight black save for a single white star-burst pattern around his left eye – which was the eye he winked with as he came to the white picket fence surrounding his lawn.

"I'm new in town," he said, casually, holding out his hand. "I didn't know that the paper got delivered by such a

cutie

."

Alison flushed, grinning at him. "I prefer to think of myself as sensual, powerful, captivating..." She scrunched up her nose. "Not a

cutie

per say."

The horse laughed. "My name is Tom Heinkel, though you can just call me Tom right off the bat.." He chuckled – then cocked one ear as Alison's belly growled loudly enough to be heard around the world. "You're biking around, tossing papers left and right, and you haven't even had breakfast?"

"I don't like breakfast..." Alison lied. She had been planning to eat cock for her breakfast. N-No, she had been planning to have some grits and eggs with Jamie

after

eating his cock. But...fuck she was horny. She flushed a bit more – glad that the heat gave her an excuse.

"Oh, that's cause you haven't had

my

grits. Make em myself," Tom said, slapping his belly with the sound like a drum. Alison felt a thrill run along her back at the invitation – but she stamped it down.

He's just being polite,

she thought.

"Well, if you can get that cushy with this bod, you gotta love what you eat," Alison said, sliding off her bike and hurrying towards the fence. She hopped over it, grinning. "I'm in."

Tom lead her to his house and opened the door and Alison found that whatever he did for a living, he made enough to afford an air conditioner and...well, unlike her father, he didn't skinflint on buying one. The cool air smacked her in the face and she felt her sweaty tank top become clammy against her skin. Her nipples, already slightly perked up by her feelings, became diamond hard and tight as hell as they thrust out against her tank. She bit her lip slightly, hoping Tom didn't notice as he walked past her to the kitchen. As he started to cook, Alison sat down on the stool that he had helpfully planted near the island that made up the center of his kitchen.

"So, there a Mr. Heinkel?" She asked.

"No," Tom said, chuckling. "Had a mare once, but she decided she was more into the other pasture, if you get my drift."

Alison looked confused.

"...lesbian," Tom said – no rancor in his voice, but a wry smile twisting his muzzle. "She was a lesbian."

Alison blinked. "W...Well I find that downright p-perplexing! How do you even get off without..." She coughed, stopping herself.

Tom chuckled. "There's ways, little one."

"I'm nineteen, not so

little

," Alison said, grinning.

Tom closed his eyes. "Thank

god

," he muttered.

Alison blinked, but before she could ask him why, he came around the island, behind her. Strong, black hands cupped her breasts through her tank top and fingers found and pinched her nipples as his voice murmured in her ear. "I could smell you wanted cock since you stepped up to the fence..." he whispered, his voice rough and eager. His fingers tugged on the tips of her breasts, sending spikes of pleasure spiced with tiny amounts of pain through her body. Alison moaned and arched her back, panting.

"I..." she squirmed. "T-Tom we ju-just met..."

"And the nose knows. You're not telling me to stop," he murmured. "You do, I do..." he kissed the back of her neck with his lips, his broad, flat tongue licking up sweat. Alison panted heavily – she had had a boyfriend this morning. But right now? Right now, she was free...and she needed her breakfast. She lifted her arms mutely overhead and Tom took the message, tugging her tank top up and over her head. Her red hair tousled and mussed itself up, and then her skin prickled with goosebumps as it was revealed to the chill air. Tom spun the stool around, then kissed her on the mouth.

Kissing a horse was downright odd – she had to tilt her head to the side and open her mouth and spent more time sucking tongue than locking lips. But his hands were so good – finding her pussy and rubbing it through her shorts, teasing her breasts, her sides – that she didn't mind much. Then he broke the kiss, sliding his robes off. His thickset body looked so delightfully exotic – tail swishing from side to side...and his cock...

Her eyes widened.

"G-God..." she whispered. "T...That'll break me in half..." She put her palm to the bulge in his shorts, rubbing gently. Then she felt it grow even harder, straining at the pants and realized that he wasn't even fully hard yet.

"Never been with a fur before, huh?" Tom murmured, his voice...cocky...Alison stifled a giggle.

"Mmm, never," she hooked her fingers on his shorts, tugging them slooowly down, revealing inch after inch of hard, black dick. Then the flat, flared tip was revealed and sprang up, flicking pre in her face and making Alison jerk back. Her nose flared and she breathed in his musk. Apparently, she had smelled like she 'needed cock.' Well...right now, to her puny human nose, Tom smelled like he

needed

a slutty mouth to fasten around his horsecock and deepthroat him.

"Obliged..." she purred, her voice a touch hazy, as she leaned forward and slurped the tip of his dick into her mouth, her tongue swirling against the flat tip as she tasted pre and his salty maleness. His pre dripped down the back of her throat as she slid her mouth forward, taking more and more of his cock into her mouth. Her jaw ached – but it was a

good

ache, like the ache she got when she ran hard or fucked harder. She pushed forward a bit more, tongue pressing to the bottom of him as she made a soft, gurgling noise at the back of her throat. She felt him closing off all hope of breathing and she liked it.

Then...

Then she drew back. She gasped, her mouth closed around his tip as she reached up to squeeze the base of his horsecock. She squeezed him gently, then a bit more eagerly as he groaned, his black palm cupping the back of her head.

Alison could get

used

to this. She reached down, pushing her shorts and her panties off in a single eager wriggle, letting herself

drip

on the floor.

"Mmm, that feels like you've done this before," Tom murmured. "Is little miss newsgirl a bit of a slut?"

Alison quivered. Her thighs spread as she slipped her knees against the hardwood floor. Jamie had tried dirty talk, but he had never said the word 'slut' with the warm, pleasing heat of Tom. It felt just proper, with her sliding one hand to squeeze his balls and her tongue swirling around his cocktip: She

was

a slut. And she loved it. She bobbed her head now, sliding his cock to the limit of her throat again and again, quivering as she bucked her hips with the motion – as if she was riding a cock while she did so. Her cunt ached with desire, throbbing pleasantly as she let herself go wild.

"F-Fuck, fuck..." Tom gasped. "Oh fuck humans give the best fucking head..." He grabbed the edge of the island to support himself as he bucked his hips slightly – bumping his cock deeper against her throat. Alison almost gagged and drew back, gasping. She let his cock pop from her mouth, coughed, and glared up at him.

"Hey!" she said. "Be careful with this monster."

Tom grinned. "Sorry, slut."

Alison turned bright red. "D-Darn tooting."

"Do you accept my apology, cockwhore?" Tom asked – his voice playful as he cupped his cock with one hand, rubbing the tip against her cheek. Alison flushed even brighter, turning her head to kiss his cocktip. Pre spurted along her lips and against her tongue and she made a quiet moaning noise – deep in her throat.

"M-Maybe..." Alison breathed, leaning forward so that his cock slipped the curve of her nose, nestling against her forehead, teasing her bangs. She breathed in his musk and her eyes almost rolled back into her head as she darted her tongue out to lick the joining of his dick and his balls. "Mmm..."

"Maybe you should show how you accept my apology, you human whore," he purred.

"Okay!" Alison said, squeaking as she drew back. "BEFORE we go on, this is just dirty talk, riiight?"

"Yes," Tom said, voice serious.

"And we're just havin fun with the whole slut thing?" Alison paused. "Riiiight?"

"Yes!" Tom said, his brow furrowing as he looked down his long snout at her.

"Okay, good." Alison cupped his balls with one hand and leaned forward to lick the top of his cock now. "Y-You can resume calling me horrible names."

"Well, now the fun's all gone-" Tom started, trying for a jokey tone. But Alison cut him off by taking his cock as deep into her throat as she could go. That seemed to be the trigger he needed, the tiny push to send him over the edge. His balls clenched and his cock spurted – a blast of cum so thick it was like drinking from a water bottle filled her throat. Alison's eyes closed and she quivered and, just for a moment, she indulged in the delicious, visceral thrill of

being

a cocksucking slut. She drank and drank and supressed very poorly timed giggle as cum overflowed and dripped from her mouth to her breasts, glinting as it fell on her small tits.

She gasped as she drew back, cum gleaming on her lips, her eyes hazy. "That's some good horse-dick..." she purred.

"Are you a connisure?" Tom murmured.

"Should start working on that or maybe I'll be a monkey's uncle..." Alison whispered, her head actually a bit dizzy as she licked at her lips – slowly, her tongue moving in darting circles as she took her time. Enjoying it.

"Now..." Tom purred, slooowly reaching down to caress her head – petting her like she was a housecat. Alison liked that. She leaned in to nuzzle his muscular thigh and nibbled on his fur, giggling quietly now that she could. "I think that it's time that I show you how I reward such-"

Alison's phone started to chime and ring. Alison started, yanking it out and yelped as she sprang to her feet. It was her fifteen minute alarm – set to when her phone didn't detect movement. She had set the phone to do that when she had first started this whole newspaper shingdig, to prevent wollgathering and lollylagging and all that stuff. She tapped the alarm off, looking at Tom. "I'm so sorry, Tom, I need to go!" She said. "My job! I..." She flushed, brightly. "I'll see you, um, later!"

She turned and ran out of the house, pausing at the front door to drag her shorts and her tank top back into place. Then she was out the door.

Tom blinked, looking down at his deflating cock.

"That poor girl," he whispered. "She's got to have the bluest clit in the state."

Then, blinking again, he knelt down. When he stood, he was holding a bright pink pair of panties in one finger, dangling there before his snout.

"Ahh shucks," he said.

###

Alison hit the first bump in the road – and then realized the issue. A shock of sensation went through her pussy, up to her nipples, then into her brain. She opened her mouth in shock and then...and then her bike went over a rough patch of gravel. It was a bike made for offroading, and so the shocks weren't unpleasent or hard. But they were semi-regular and intense enough to be felt. Alison squirmed on the bike, her eyes half closing as she panted. "F-Fuck fuck fuck fuck!" She whispered.

Her back arched and she hit the brakes, the bike skidding under her. She panted, her nipples hard against her tank top as she hung her head forward. "Ohhh fucking

Christ

..."

Then, slowly, she looked up – to see that she had come to the front lawn of another house on her route. The yard was strewn with exercise equipment – barbells, kettlebells, bellbells, and other accoutriments, including a table where one could lay back and pump iron. Sitting at the table – barbell in one hand – was a lean, powerfully built German Shepard. His brown and black fur was matted with sweat and he was wearing nothing save for a very tight set of speedoes – the bump of his balls and his sheath were quite visible as he sat there, spread thighed. Standing near him, leaning against the back of the lifting bench thingy (Alison was sure it had a name, but couldn't think of it) was another almost naked dog – this one a fluffy, silver-white Husky.