Valerie could not wait for today to be over. There was little worse than having to wake up early on a Saturday, but to have to entertain her dad's boring, loser work friends was just the shit cherry on top of the three tier shit cake this weekend was already geared up to be. With a groan, and a stretch that caused each of her vertebrae to click in succession, eliciting an almost rapturous groan from her body as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and made her way blearily to the shower.
She stripped off her loose fitting Grateful Dead t-shirt and pulled off her once white, now merely comfortable panties and stepped onto the cold false ceramic of the shower. The vixen twisted the knob and hopped back out of the way of the unyielding frigid spray to give it time to warm up. Tentatively she reached out with her hand paw to check the temperature, the hot water flowing over her rich, burnt orange red fur. Her paws were cuffed in little black socks, and her tail flexed and straightened in delight, the white dipped bulb on the end bristling.
Taking a deep breath, she plunged head first into the stream, her black nosed muzzle serving to divert the water down her face and onto her soft, warm body. Her pure white belly fur matted against her body as her slender fingers ran effortlessly across her body. Her young, lithe form glistened in the water's flow as she made sure she had soaked every inch of herself before reaching for the shampoo. She worked up a lather and smeared the sweet smelling foam all over herself, up her slender, supple legs, across her tight, yet soft belly. She took extra care to clean her round, pleasant ass and her perky breasts. She really did like her boobs, they were soft and bouncy, not too small, not cartoonishly ballooned. Just perfectly proportional to her petite frame. Standing at only about 5'4'', it would have been ludicrous had they been any bigger.
Rinsing the last of the suds out of her curly auburn hair, she turned off the shower and stepped out. She shook herself dry, before aggressively assaulting herself with a towel. Finally, she resorted to the hair dryer whose hot breath made her blush as she dried out the space between her legs. She stepped over to her mirror, combed out her hair as best she could, then took the time to make sure her tail was pristine and beautiful. She took great pride in her tail. She delicately applied some black eye liner, making her amethyst eyes glitter out more provocatively, and with a deft hand applied blush to her delicate sloping muzzle, just to accentuate the steadily darkening red fur.
She slipped on a purple bra and matching panties, with a tank top and black booty shorts. She looked herself up and down in the mirror, pleased with what she saw. She tied her hair up in a high ponytail, pulled on a pair of white socks that went up to just below her knees, and a pair of black trainers. Feigning happiness, she bounced downstairs to the kitchen.
In the kitchen, her parents were having breakfast. Her father was a fox, like herself, his ruddy brown coat of fur flecked with silver strands. His utilitarian glasses nestled loosely on his muzzle. He wore a loud, brightly coloured hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts, the shirt hanging open to reveal his not unfit, but certainly no longer lean torso. Daniel Wynn had seen too many years of beer and steak, and it had invariably taken its toll on the man.
Her mother, on the other hand, was the polar opposite. The feline woman was something of a health freak, there was barely a scrap of body fat anywhere on her body. She was only an inch or two taller than her daughter, and incredibly athletic. Where the younger vulpine girl was more voluptuous and demure, her mother was toned, hard and sharp, a figure cut from fine glass. For years her routine had been pilates every Monday, yoga on Tuesday, Boxercise Wednesday, spin class on Thursday, Tai Chi on Friday, and a two hour jog every other Saturday. The woman treated her body like a temple, and while her preening and almost obsessive focus often irritated Valerie. Jennifer Wynn showed the results of her obsession clearly and proudly, finding the most form fitting garments she could encase her body in, occasionally even stealing clothes from her daughter. Today, she had chosen to wear a short sundress that allowed her to show off her toned, slender legs. Her mottled white and orange fir was clipped short and the longer brown hair on top of her head was never allowed to fall past her shoulders.
Both of them sipped cups of tea, but Valerie was relieved to see a pot of coffee, still steaming on the counter. Tea was fine, but in the morning nothing jump started the blood flow like strong, black coffee. She contemplated pouring some whiskey into the steaming black life giver, but decided against it. There was just no way she could get away with it this early in the morning. She'd probably need it later on, depending on how long this snoozefest was supposed to last. Instead she just dropped an english muffin in the toaster, ran a thin scrape of butter over the cratered surface and spooned a sizable dollop of jam onto it.. Her mother scowled slightly at the combination of carbs, saturated fats and sugar, before turning her attention back down to the screen of her phone.
Valerie could hazard a guess what her mother was doing. Her feline tail swished happily behind her while her face remained stoic, almost entirely expressionless. Valerie had known her mother was seeing other guys for a few months now, ever since she saw the pictures she had been sending when she accidentally left herself logged in to facebook on the family PC. It didn't bother her though, her dad either didn't know or didn't care. Besides, it wasn't any of her business anyway. The arrangement seemed to suit her parents. Her dad got the out of his league trophy, and her mother got to live as a kept woman with a husband who wouldn't dare cross her.
In all honesty, she was pretty impressed with their setup. When she got a bit older, she could easily see herself taking a leaf out of her mother's book. She would marry for money and then take her passion somewhere else. So long as no one got hurt, what did it matter?
"Morning honey" her father said ultimately. "Looking forward to today?"
"Not particularly" she intoned, not even bothering to look up at him. From the corner of her eye, she could make out the almost sheepish look of disappointment that crossed his face. Valerie didn't dislike her dad, not really, but her was often just kind of pathetic sometimes. He let her and her mother walk all over him and while she could undoubtedly benefit from this, she sometimes wished her dad would grow a spine one of these days.
"Now now dear," her mother said, not looking up from her phone. "This is important for your father, so let's be on our best behaviour. Your dad has a lot riding on this all going smoothly, so let's all do our best, OK?"
The fact that her mother clearly had little emotion behind her words let slip just how token a gesture of solidarity with her husband truly was. But then again, this was a business party. If this went well, there would be significantly more money for her father to earn, and by default more for her mother to spend. With a groan and a roll of her eyes, Valerie finished her cup of coffee and slipped her plate into the dishwasher.
The good news was that there was spectacularly little to do to prepare for their guests today. Valerie's mother was notoriously houseproud, never anything out of place for very long. By half past ten, the whole place was pristine. The first people were supposed to arrive around noon, but her dad did say that a few might turn up early. WIth all the force and conviction of a marine, he donned his apron, took up his spatula and fork, and set off to heat the grill. A little bit before twelve, the doorbell rang.
