(Artwork used by permission from Freckles)

I rolled my lukewarm coffee around in my mouth and stared down at the lipstick stains on my cup. I could barely taste the gin. There wasn't nearly enough in it for a workday like today. But the little bottle in my desk drawer was empty now.

Buy more gin, I wrote in a quick email to myself. The phone dinged. Email received. Great – now I might remember to pick some up on the way home. More likely, I'd check my phone when I got home, see the email, and have to go back out again. Still, it was the most productive and useful thing I'd done all day, and it was nearly five.

Goddess, what was I thinking back when I'd accepted the position as Marketing Director, all those years ago? It was the most respected, most lucrative job title I'd ever held, and it was the worst yiffing decision I'd ever made. All I did was sign off on this project or that to sell useless crap to people who didn't need it. I paused, then sent another email to myself on the subject of gin. The phone dinged. If I had to sit through another goddess-damned board meeting with nothing but caffeine in my coffee, I'd end up strangling the first person who said the word 'quantitative'. Take that, glass ceiling!

Something caught my eye in my office window, something moving ... and then it was gone. I hadn't really registered it, just a little flash of gold, but even that was enough to brighten my mood a little, somehow.

I rose from my too-modern desk chair and came up closer to the window, pulling a string to tilt the blinds open. The window looked inside, toward the main marketing office, rather than outside. This depressing heap of a building had been built in the fifties or sixties or something, and apparently outside windows hadn't been in fashion. And even though everything on the inside was sleek and modern now, still the only window I had was there so I could watch over all the poor saps unlucky enough to work in my department.

Ah, there was what had caught my eye. I leaned against the edge of the window, coffee in one hand and idly twirling a lock of my mane with the other. It was Daniel Jones – or Danny, as he insisted everyone call him – the new Sales Director who'd replaced the previous guy when that dinosaur of a lion had retired. Danny was a golden retriever, and the youngest man to hold a directorship in the company's history, or so I was told.

Goddess damn it, just look at him go.

I took a bitter sip of my coffee and watched him flirt with one of the clerks outside – a pretty little parakeet probably even younger than him. Sally? Sue? Sarah? It was definitely something with an 'S'. Whatever her name was, she was definitely taken with Danny. The way her crest feathers fluffed up made it painfully obvious. Yiff, at least half the women in the department were making goo-goo eyes at him, even as he chatted up that twitty little good-for-nothing.

But who could blame them? Every time Danny stopped by – on an almost daily basis – he was always dressed in a sharp, tailor-fitted suit that made him look like a billion bucks in untraceable bills, and the way he was so quick and easy with that tail-wagging smile of his always put everyone at ease. Everything about him was just so infuriatingly, adorably perfect. If you talked to him for even a minute, you'd end up sure that he wasn't keeping a single secret from you. He'd give you that cute smile of his, a genuinely good handshake, and wish you the best ... and you'd actually believe that he wanted the best for you.

He made his way through the marketing office, chatting with employees like he was a long-lost friend. Every motion was perfect and warm, but with just a hint of pirate-like swagger ... like he knew the whole world was his to take, and he'd never felt the pain of someone ripping it all away from him.

Goddess, I envied him for that. I remembered how I'd felt like that once. Not enough gin in this yiffing coffee.

Still, I couldn't bring myself to hate that pup, as much as I wanted to. That's what was so infuriating about him. You couldn't help but wish him well, too. He was a real go-getter, that one. A real retriever. I smirked at my own joke and swigged down the last of my coffee, almost choking on it. But Danny just had a way of making everything seem better and brighter, and just a bit more colorful. He had that puppy-like innocence that made you know you'd feel like shit for the rest of the day if you said something that took away his stupid smile.

I'd been told – by damn near everyone – that since I was the Marketing Director and he was the Sales Director, we'd be working together all the time. Lucky me, right? That was one of the most moronic lies I'd heard in years. What it actually meant was that his people would be working with my people. The closest I usually got to him was having his signature next to mine on some approval form or other. Not that I'd mind working with him. Hell, maybe then I wouldn't need my coffee laced with so much—

My phone rang, and I tore myself away from the window to fish it out from the purse under my desk and answer it.

“Hi, Mom,” the voice on the other end said.

“Samuel!” I tried to put a note of cheer into my voice, but I wasn't sure if I'd really managed to pull it off. “It's good to hear from you. How's Stacy doing? Are you two still together?”

“Yeah, yeah. It's going great. She decided to be an art major, too.”

I rolled my eyes, being careful not to make a sigh that could be heard over the phone. “Oh dear.” Oh dear? Who says 'Oh dear'? Yiff! I'm going to end up acting like a grandma even if my son can never make it true! I try to shrug that off and recover. “I had... Well, I had hoped that at least one of you would be choosing a major that was more ... practical.”

A wordless, heavy groan came from the other end of the line.

“Look,” I told him. “I know. I've heard it all before, but you have to think seriously about—”

“Mom, I told you, I'm not changing majors! I have to try this first, okay. Because if you don't try...”

“Then you've already failed,” I completed the saying for him. “Like I said, I've heard it all before. I'm just a little disappointed that at least one of you didn't go into something a bit more financially secure. I mean, if you're ever thinking of...” I stopped myself before saying 'starting a family'. Samuel was a mule, thanks to his donkey father, and all mules are infertile. The impossibility of grandchildren was a sore spot I did not need to be prodding right now.

“If we're thinking of what, Mom?”

The 'we' in that sentence didn't escape my notice. Apparently the Stacy thing was getting pretty serious. “Nothing,” I told him. “I just don't want to see my son and my possible daughter-in-law both being starving artists. One of you has to be able to support the other, right? Just as a safety net?”

“How's Dad doing?”

The question caught me off-guard. I'd expected another tirade about how the only people who achieve their dreams are the ones who chase them ... but this? How much did Samuel already know? “He's, um...”

“You don't have to hide it. I know he moved out. I just want to know, do you have like a good phone number for him or anything?”

Oh. Was it a month already, since I'd stopped paying that deadbeat's phone bill? “I don't know, sweetie. But he's staying with your Gammy, helping to take care of her.” 'Gammy' was Samuel's childhood name for my mother-in-law, which had stuck for some reason. And I knew full-well that she was taking care of my estranged husband, not the other way around. I should know. I'd acted like I was that man's mother for years. It was a shame that he was taking advantage of such a lovely old lady like that, but it beat having him sticking around the house. He'd tried to kick me out of my own house – the house I'd paid the mortgage for fifteen years – but that hadn't gone well...

I still remembered that night more vividly than I remembered my breakfast this morning. I'd come home to catch my husband, Franklin, in the act of googling 'how to buy a prostitute'. What had followed was a lot of yelling and biting insults. He said I didn't have time for him anymore, that I didn't take care of his needs anymore. I said that if he hadn't been in the papers for groping secretaries, he wouldn't be a drunken, unemployable slob and maybe then I'd want to 'take care of his needs'.

He'd wiped the gooey, beer-ridden spit from his lips and stumbled toward me, his shirt stained and his fly open, and he threw his mostly-empty bottle. There were tears in his eyes, along with all the hate and pain. “Fine! Go then, you bitch! As if anybody would want a tired old nag like you!” Only, I wasn't the one who left. Oh no. Surprising myself with the ice in my voice, I'd informed him that if he wasn't out of the house by morning, I wouldn't be making the mortgage payments anymore, and he'd be on the street. He stormed off, jumped in his car, and sped away. He hadn't been home since.

I'd called the cops on him, in a fit of pique, and reported him as a drunk driver ... but they must not have caught him, because the next I heard, he was calling from his mother's number and begging me to take him back. I'd hung up the phone in the middle of his sobbing confession and—

“Mom? Mom! Are you still there?”

“Yes, yes of course, sweetie.” I blinked and shook my head a little, almost surprised to find myself still in my office. Had I really zoned out that much? Maybe the coffee actually had too much gin. “What were you saying? I, um... I think the signal broke up for a minute there.”

“I said, can you text me Gammy's number? I don't think I have it anymore, ever since I got my new phone.”

“Oh, right. Of course I will.” I leaned my hips against the desk. “Now could you promise me that you'll at least talk to Stacy about—”

“Ugh! Mom! I told you, that's not going to happen!”

I held my tongue. I should count myself lucky that I was one of the few moms of college-age kids whose child actually called from time to time, even if his stubbornness did constantly remind me of his father. “I know, I know,” I said. “And I respect your decision. I'm just worried about you and—”

The door to my office opened, and Danny strode in like he owned the place, already beaming his cocky grin. But the moment he saw me, he stopped, crouching down a little and holding his hands up as if that would make him invisible. “Oh, I'm sorry,” he whispered. “I didn't mean to interrupt. I'll just...” He began sliding his way out through the door.

Maybe it was just the gin in me, but I made a split-second decision then. “Sweetie, I'll have to call you back,” I said. “Work stuff. You know.” I hit the button on the phone without waiting for Samuel's reply.

Danny paused in the doorway, as if frozen in time on his way slinking through it.

I slipped the phone next to my keyboard and sat down on the edge of the desk, facing him. “Come on in, Danny. It was nothing important.”

He stood there in the doorway, still, rubbing the back of his neck in a delightfully transparent show of awkwardness, even as he tried to give me one of his trademark winning grins. “Oh no, I shouldn't interrupt. I was just checking in, you know, seeing how everyone is doing.”

“Come on.” I waved him toward one of the chairs in front of my desk – nice, comfy leather ones that I wished I could get away with using as my own office chairs. “What's on your mind?”

He shook, seeming to shed the awkwardness as easily as he'd shake off a bit of rain water. And then he was back to his fluid, confident self, plopping himself down in the chair like it was his own recliner back home and crossing his legs as he propped them up on the other chair. “Seriously, seriously, just checking in. How've you been, Missus Morrow?”

“Please, call me Janet.” I leaned closer, pressing a hand against the hem of my skirt-suit to make sure it didn't ride up too much. “And come on. I know you can't be smiling that much for no reason at all...”

His grin grew even wider, and he held his arms to his chest, trembling a little with the effort of holding it in.

I waited patiently, watching him closely.

And soon enough, he blew – he leapt up from the chair and bounced up and down in front of me, his tail wagging like crazy. “We did it, Janet! Sales are up thirty percent since the new ads came out! I'll have to hire more staff just to keep up with all the new accounts!”

I smiled, too, leaning back slightly and crossing my arms under my ample chest. It was right out of a book of 'power poses' I'd read a few months back, and I knew it would make it look like I was the mastermind of the successful new ad campaign ... when, of course, it was something put together by the people under me, and all I'd done was sign off on it and give them a budget to work with.

Still, it felt good. Danny's elation was contagious. I halfway expected him to come up and hug me as he danced for joy.

“I don't care what anybody else says about you! You're the best, Janet!” He'd calmed down a little now, but he was still staring at me with stars in his eyes.

What anybody else says about me? Just what were people saying about me, anyway? And who was saying it? Oh, I'd be getting to the bottom of this one... But not now. That wasn't the kind of thing to ask another director about. I'd drop a few carefully-worded inquiries among the more trustworthy people in my department, and then I'd find out what kind of grist the rumor mill had been grinding lately...

Finally, Danny flopped back into the comfortable chair, panting as if he'd tired himself out already, even though I was sure he had far more energy than that. He rolled his head to the side and looked at me, grinning wide. “We make a hell of a team, don't we?”

I held down the front of my skirt again. It wasn't that short, but Danny had a pretty low vantage point as he slumped in the chair. I didn't want him to see anything ... unprofessional. “It's always a team effort when things work,” I said, the second-nature corporatespeak leaving a bad taste in my mouth. But that's how I'd gotten myself into this illustrious zenith in my career – by having more pithy lines at the ready than a warehouse full of motivational posters. It sure beat fucking my way to the top, which is what a lot of my department probably thought I'd done.

“Alright.” Danny popped up out of the chair, making it look effortless as always ... and how was his suit still so crisp after all that dancing and slouching? “I know you're a busy mare, so I'll stay out of your mane and let you get things done. Just wanted to stop by and give you the good news before the next board meeting!” He started toward the door.

Maybe it was still the gin, maybe it was a little fire inside me kindled by the sight of his tight little ass squeezed into the perfectly-tailored slacks ... but something very unreasonable came over me. “Hey,” I said.

He stopped and looked back over his shoulder, his hand on the doorknob. His ears perked up and his head cocked slightly to the side.

Oh Goddess ... was I really about to do this? Yiff it. Why not? “Do you have time to stop by tomorrow? I'd really like to hear how the new customers are responding to those ads. Maybe we can tailor them even better.”

“Ooh!” He pointed a finger at me and grinned. “I like your style! Success is never enough!” Instead of answering me right away, though, he whipped his phone out of his pocket and hit a speed dial button on it. “Nancy, do I have time for a meeting or two with marketing tomorrow? ... Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Sure – he can handle that without me. He's older than I am, even in dog years. ... Great! Thanks – you're the best, girl! See you then!” He slipped the phone back into his pocket.

I quirked an eyebrow at him. He seemed awfully familiar with his personal assistant. Then again, I wouldn't expect anything less from him.

“Looks like I've got time!” he said. “Nancy's already calling your office to set something up.” He opened the door and was about to leave.

“Just one-on-one, please.”

He stopped and looked back at me when I said that, a hint of earnest confusion crossing his face.

I smiled. “I wouldn't want to waste anyone else's time. I'm sure the two of us can handle it together.”

He smiled back and nodded vigorously, then slipped out, the door shutting just a bit too forcefully behind him. The window rattled.

What was I getting myself into now? I sure didn't have any real plans to look at his sales reports. There was something else of his I wanted to get my hands on...

I blinked in shock. Wait... Was I actually planning on ... that? With Danny? If he'd even have me... I slowly rounded my desk and fell back into my uncomfortable future-mesh office chair. It squeaked, making my ear twitch. Yiff it. Why not? Why shouldn't I? It wasn't like my husband still had any claim on me, and I was a big girl – I knew what I was doing.

The only question was, did Danny know what I was doing?

Well, we would find out tomorrow. For now, it was almost time to head home ... and maybe I didn't need that gin after all. Better play it safe, though.

* * *

After my morning shower, I stood in front of the full-length mirror in the master bathroom, completely nude except for the towels wrapped around my mane and tail. My still-damp palomino fur clung tightly to my skin, showing every last detail.

Even though I tried to stand up straight and suck in my bit of a tummy, the sight in the mirror made me sigh a little. Franklin had stolen my best years from me, that was for sure. And getting pregnant hadn't helped, not that I blamed Samuel for it – he hadn't been the one who did it to me.

I reminded myself to stay positive. I wasn't ugly, not by any means.

My breasts might be as perky as they used to be – gravity is a bitch – but they were still yiffing enormous, and they had a way of drawing in guys' attention by the sheer brute force of their size, each one nearly as big as my head. I held one in my hand, pushing it upward as my palm pressed into the softness. They still looked pretty good like that. All I needed was the right bra – by the time the bra came off, it would be too late to back out just because the boobs sagged a bit.

My belly was another matter... It seemed like no amount of crunches or time on the elliptical could do anything about the slight paunch I had there. I slid my hand from my tit down my belly, just stopping myself before going all the way down. No time for that now, not if I was going to get ready. But even when I really tried sucking it in, my belly felt soft and a little squishy ... nothing like the firm, smooth sleekness I'd been so proud of before Samuel happened. And there was nothing I could realistically do about it, either. I'd just have to hope that Danny didn't mind ... or hope that he'd be too distracted with a pair of ginormous boobs to pay any attention to what was below them.

I turned a little to the side and smiled at the mirror. That's how I'd get him. After all these years, I still had the bodacious equine ass and legs of the teenage knockout I'd once been. At least the elliptical was good enough for that. A certain skirt in my closet came to mind. I'd hardly ever worn the thing – it had ended up being a good deal too short, and I'd never returned it because the store was too far away, and who cared anyhow? But today... Today, it would be perfect. If I wore that and some nice panties underneath, all I'd have to do would be to bend over in front of him, and he probably wouldn't be able to stop himself from pouncing...

I blinked at the mirror. Was I really going to do this?

Fantasizing about it last night had been fun. Really fun, once I'd gotten my old friend, Mister Vibrator involved. It was even kind of enjoyable to check myself out in the mirror as if I was him, judging the mare I saw and deciding if she was fuckable or not...

But now... Making plans was one thing, but putting them into action was another thing entirely. And I was still technically a married mare. I'd never once been unfaithful in the past.

Yiff it. I slid my fingers down the rest of the way, past the little bit of fluffy fur between my legs and straight down to my pussy lips. Yep, I was wet. Yiffing soaked down there. And it felt so good to be touched. I could just imagine Danny's big floppy tongue going to town down there, with all the enthusiasm of a puppy who'd been given a new toy... Maybe he'd let me sit on his face and ride him like a—

I snapped out of it, yanking my fingers out of my pussy.

No – no time for that, especially since I'd probably end up needing another shower. I turned back toward the mirror, and as I wiped myself clean again with the towel from around my tail, I saw my tits wagging back and forth with every motion of my arm. And now that I wasn't sucking it in anymore, that little belly of mine was plain to see.

'As if anybody would want a tired old nag like you, anyway!'

I gasped and jumped back slightly. It had sounded so real, as if Franklin was back in the room again. I halfway expected to see his reflection in the mirror. But of course I was alone in here. And I'd had the locks changed since he left. He wouldn't be back. He was gone for good.

But his words were here to stay. I covered my breasts with the towel and held the other hand in front of my crotch. Then, when I saw myself in the mirror, I wondered who I was hiding myself from.

Yiff that loser. He didn't know what he was talking about. He didn't know what he was missing out on. Was I going to let some loser hiding in his mother's guest bedroom tell me whether I was desirable or not? That wasn't the kind of mare I'd ever been, and I wasn't going to start now.

I let the towel drop, then stared at myself again, my hand cocked on my wide hip and a sexy fire in my eye.

As if anybody would want a tired old nag like me... I'd show him. I'd show him exactly who wanted a mare like me – absolutely anybody.

This is just a 4100 word sample of a 14900 word story. You can find the full story on Excitica for $2.99 or on my Patreon, starting at just $1 per month. Thank you for reading!