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.
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Alistair licked his lips, though the deep purple fox had other things on his mind than eating. The bunker was underground -- well, half of it -- and best suited to withstand the inclement weather and landscape of a post-apocalyptic world, everything that they had known, once, collapsed into dust. Cities were ruined, rang hollow, though the fox, who was technically of the Vulpiri species, didn't remember much of that time. It had happened so long ago, he'd barely been a kit, yet he knew there was more out there for him in a world that had been decimated than there would have been.
Namely, he thought, the glow of his tongue sweeping across his muzzle, his mother. She was shorter than him, now that he was an adult, along with his sister, Amber, but the changing times had made it so that he could not look up to her. The world had shifted so suddenly that everyone, not only the Vulpiri, were forced to adapt, to change, meeting something that was supposed to only happen in cheesy films and flicks that didn't do well in the box office halfway.
His mother... Alistair growled, sprawled back on a half-collapsed sofa, though his clothing was clean, dark in shades with a mesh top cut across his chest as if he was following a gothic aesthetic that no longer had much of a place after the disaster had struck. His mother, Olivia, a fox rich in burgundy shades, curvy and alluring, claimed his attention. Not that he did not see other females there, of course not, but the swing of her hips, even then, could not stop him from pursuing her through the bunker, hungering for something that he perhaps did not quite yet understand.
But that was alright. He'd gotten with others, though his mother was plumper, curvier, the sort of fox that got his cock hard at night, though there was still little privacy at all to be had in the bunker. It was the way of it, unfortunately, though something like that could not be helped, watching her as she walked past him, her clothes fitted, though that was merely because she'd used to be a seamstress. Things like that didn't matter after the apocalypse.
There was still a cooker in their bunker and Alistair smirked to himself, swaying his flared hips, which were a little broader than his chest, as he squeezed up to her.
"You're looking so cute there, mommy..."
It could have been a tease if delivered to any other fox, but Olivia squirmed away from him, laughing.
"Oh, you! You're just trying to flatter me!"
But he wasn't. His lust had grown for her, cock hard in his black trousers, which were loose enough to slide down, allowing the tip of his blue rocket to tease against her thigh.
His mother's brow furrowed, but she did not register or recognise the feeling, shifting her weight.
"Are you ready for dinner, sweetie?"
Clueless, clueless. Alistair tucked his cock away, energy thrumming beneath the surface, lust hungering for her in his gaze. It was too much for him to hold back, sneaking a grope of her arse while she yelped and rounded on him with a spoon, though she professed that his father had been just the same as him, back when he had been Alistair's age, of course.
"Boys will be boys," Olivia muttered to herself, unaware that Alistair was not yet out of hearing range. "Oh my, what a fox he's turned into..."
But he was not yet done with her, perching at a rickety table for dinner with his sister to the side, though Amber scoffed her food without barely letting it touch the sides of her gob. She was larger than even her mother, thick around the waist with large, sagging breasts to match, a vixen who most certainly liked her food. She was a sharp, brick red, though they didn't see all that many bricks like that in the world anymore, something of their London accent lingering between them all, though it was Alistair who had retained much of the cockney twang. They all got on well enough with others, of course, but Amber hunkered down in the bunker most of the time, not seeing any need to go out.
"Hey!"
Olivia growled and smacked her son's paw away from her thigh as he slid his fingers up her leg towards her pussy, though she didn't realise that he was hard too, bulging out the front of his trousers, knot still tucked within his sheath despite his arousal.