8/1/2017
11:48pm PST
I want to lick Sin-wolf's sweet wolfdog pussy. Lewd, right? So wet and velvety, succulent and raw, just for her little shep-coon - just for me. I'll take great pride in stroking my hybrid dick furiously while standing over her spread-legged body. After nibbling at her neck and breasts, after pinching and flicking at her firm rigid little clitoris and rubbing her paw-padded hands and feet passionately and genuinely just fucking her blue-haired brains out, I'll cum hard all over her moistened cunt-folds, gasp and grunt and moan and pant while stroking at my veiny canine shaft, squeezing my throbbing dog-knot for good orgasmic measure. Holy Christ, I got hard writing that. Fuck. I'll look directly into her eyes while conducing this particularly sultry act of vaginal-fucking carnality; I'll stare transfixed deep into those yellow wolfdog eyes, piercing irises with pupils that hypnotize and astonish my soul, sharp pearly-white canine teeth revealed in a sultry wolf-girl's blissful snarl, tongue pressed between her front teeth, teasing with a wink and a cute little giggle, apt to up and find herself suddenly impregnated by a shep-coon assassin and grunge bassist. Damn, it feels good to be a gangster! Fuck, I'm horny. What's a shep-coon to do about that??

2:36am PST
Fuck, man. I've been missing her so much. I should kill a few asswipes, make some extra cash and take a quick trip down south and pay her a visit. I think I'd very much enjoy the pleasure of her company - and her super-tight wolf-twat… but that'll come after the 'lingus. And the routine tea-time social exchange. She's pretty good about that. I love her for it as well. Her tongue on my dick… man, it just feels so goddam sensational! Her fellatio abilities are pretty much brilliantly executed. I don't know where or when the fuck she learned how to give such insanely good head… or from who. Yeah, I'll give her a foot paw massage if she gives me a blowjob. That's fair trade, right? Hmm… perhaps I'll also give her a neck and shoulder rub-down too… not to mention a fuck-ton of fluffy fuzzy dog-piled cuddles. She'll like that, I think.
5:12am PST
God damn it. Five ten or twelve or something, not sure:
Way too many nightmares again, just like usual… just like always. Fucking typical. I mean, every so often a good wet dream or morning-wood sensation slips in to play the tango but… lately I've been getting mind-raped with the night terrors. Weird shit, nonsensical shit. For instance: I saw a two-headed furless donkey running through a field on fire while being ridden upon by a large cast-armored skeletal wolf-anthro wielding a big-ass phosphorescent glowing blue-colored spiked mace in one bony hand-paw and the other full of small azure beads. I stared at those beads, seeing what looked like… life forms… swirling around inside the soft-glowing turquoise-blue substance within. They weren't quite amphibian, nor reptilian. They almost seemed mammalian. They almost looked fucking canine. The wolf-anthro knight began to eat them. One by one, while riding upon the back of a furless flame-drenched ass. A Siamese-deformed ass, nevertheless. The wolf-knight from my fucked-up dream ate them like blueberries, one at a time; just gobbled them down like popcorn. Not a sound emanated from the handful of blue beads, of course. And why would there be any noise? Not for hundreds of years would these beads come to term and explode, like a placenta sac, giving rudimentary "birth" to a hideously abominated specimen that not even science itself could conceive… a demi-anthro. These ugly-ass deformed fucks are the bane of OUR existence. If I ever get a chance to see Aveline in person again I swear to GOD, she will not be denied one word of my insane nightmare. What if there's some sick twisted reason in store throughout this whole damn ordeal? What if the knight represents somebody close to me… or to her? What if those capsules are a beckoning call, like a foreshadowing of events that'll threaten to decimate our very livelihood? Jesus, what if. Fuck sleep. Now I'm horrified over the outcome of my own life - and hers. I need to see her right away. I need to hold her in my arms, breathe in the scent of her hair and fur, hug her close and bask in her warmth and comfort. I need Sin.

5:19am PST
Five-nineteen, morning, still dark outside:
I was fucking serious earlier, when I wrote that shit that I wrote. I really need to give her a hug. I really need to breathe in her scent, to press myself against her warmth, to squeeze her beautiful wolfdog body tight and rub at the back of her head and ears while brushing tenderly through her blue hair. That sexy fucking hair of hers, goddamn it. Just took a hit of ol' Marley's bush so I'm feeling no pain. That dream… well, it'll come to fruition soon enough. For now? Sin-wolf is on my mind and I aim to keep it that way, may the Creator help me.

6:16am PST
Six-sixteen in the mo'nin'. Moving right along here:
I'll continue to rub at her head while thrusting my knotted shep-coon cock wildly into her sensationally tight and delectable wolf-girl vagina, feeling her pierced and perky breasts bounce and flop and smack against my own chest, connecting with my nipple piercings. I wonder what our titty jewelry would sound like when clinked against each other… either musically appealing, or audibly grating. I'm gonna have to find that shit out later, while I'll grind and thrust myself against her body and squeeze her thighs tight in my grip, pumping my shaft into her vacuum-strong vaginal crevice, sliding in deep and stretching her folds out wide, giving her a fruitful experience of epic orgasmic proportion. I know how it'll go already: she'll gasp and moan and even scream out loud in sheer ecstasy on occasion when I thrust into her just right. She'll talk extremely dirty to me; "Fuck me harder, Max!" or "God yes, pound me faster!" or one of my personal favorites, "Don't stop until I cum!" Oh yes. She's apt to get fucking kinky as hell. She'll lean forward and attempt to kiss me with intense passion, yet fail to reach me nearly every time, which fills me with a sense of empathy and pity. She'll pout her lips and frown at her inability to reach my shep-coon lips, the poor dear. So instead, she'll press her snout against my neck and lick at my blonde-haired chest-fur tuft. It’s a weird and tingly feeling but doing so yields a very pleasing sensation and I always wind up getting a solid erection, every time, without hesitation or fail. In this case, she'll super-prime me to explode in her pussy. A quick, creamy, white, salty-sweet explosion. She'll smile when my loose-hanging dreadlocks brush and sway against her forehead and muzzle. She'll fondle at them with her finger-paws; tussle the dreads playfully, reminding her of a kitten fascinated by a ball of goddam yarn and she'll burst out into a rouse of rabid hysterical laughter which I'll stifle quickly by giving her the finishing balls-deep thrusts, knotting her deep and tying her divine wolfdog snatch like a rabid tribal warrior on the prowl for poonani, ultimately finding true unintended satisfaction while grasping hold of her muzzle with one hand-paw and her back with the other, lifting her up, gaining ideal leverage for a truly profound and long-lasting dog-dicked tie.
Jeez, I have such an imaginative thought-process so early in the morning! Dafuq?!
9:57am PST
Sent via SMS:
I booked a flight - heads out at noon. You'll hear from me soon. If I don't hear from you first, I'll swing by myself to take a look at your stereo wiring. Could just be something pulled loose - it happens. Make sure you have those bondo straps latched on tight and your toy batteries charged cuz we'll be burning through em all like gangbusters tonight - after the lap dance of course. And make sure you got plenty of ammunition to spare. I'm feeling a bit antsy for some bounty hunting. I will bring the armored vests, you just cover the ammo. And of course, I'll provide the tea kettle too. 
Love you Sin <3
~
10:03pm CST
"Uh, are you sure about this?"
"Yes. Now sit, coonboy."
Sin pushed Maxwell down upon her front room sofa. A large pair of stereo speakers emanated sweet sounds of jive-lounge jazz music from two corners of the room. Max recognized the artist right away: Caro Emerald. The song? Just One Dance. He was surprised to know the song by a genuine word-of-mouth suggestion from Sin herself, his seductive and sweetest wolfdog lover and fellow hired assassin. He gazed upward and quickly got an eyeful of Sin's reddened, heat-swollen vagina, hovering above his muzzle. The music was at a climactic peak and so was she, spread-legged and dripping ripe with raw orgasm-procured seminal fluid running freely down her inner thigh. I swear to fucking nature, if he doesn't at least kiss my pussy, I'm gonna go ape-shit nuts!
Maxwell inhaled through his nostrils and caught a salty-sweet whiff of Sin's potent sex-fueled odors. He licked at his shep-coon lips and moaned softly beneath his breath, adjusting himself a bit upon her sofa, making a little room for the rather sizeable erection which protruded freely from his fur-coated sheath. He felt the tip prodding against his jeans from inside, causing him to squirm in his seat. He clenched hold of her thighs, laying one of her legs down against his shoulder, propping her kneecap on his shoulder, gently massaging at her paw-padded wolfdog soles with one hand-paw while keeping her moist swollen labia folds spread wide with his other hand-paw. He breathed upon the surface of her taint, prodded teasingly against her tailhole with his tongue, then slid his taste-bud receptacle deep into Sin's vaginal orifice, swirling and spiraling relentlessly against her soft pink wolfdog flesh. Sin endured a bout of nervous shivering and came hard, releasing with trembling fury, squirting down Max's throat, hand-paws covering her mouth to stifle her excessive orgasmic screams. His wet nose poked and scraped against her clitoris repeatedly as his whiskers brushed against her cunt-flaps, tickling her as well as arousing her beyond her years. Sin's toe-paws clenched inward and spread wide, revealing tiny tufts of desert grass and sand between her fur-lined digits. The spongy presence of Max's tongue probing within her vagina, threatening to brush against her cervix, caused Sin to grab hold of Max's head, right behind his ears, and press his muzzle against her twat, feeling his jaw clench firmly around her taint. His teeth rested softly upon her mons and against the ridge of her wolfdog anus as his tongue was fully extended, lapping and sliding with feverish speed and dexterity against every nook and cranny of her vagina. Wave after wave of orgasms drilled into her body, supercharging his libido as he growled low and sultrily, tongue vibrating within her tender pink vaginal walls. He kept up well with her squirting advances, swallowing climax after climax, chin nearly soaked with dampened cunny-fluid. It ran down his cheek, jaw and neck. Max was providing a natural lubricant of great potency to Sin, preparing her for a sexually-charged lap dance to end all other lap dances. 
When Sin came back to her senses and her breathing became less irregular, smooth jazz music kicked back into high-gear with a new track and she twirled around in a circle, stepping away from Maxwell, feeling his tongue popping out from the tightened confines of her wet, heated snatch. A flushing wave of icy cool flowed through her entire body from the tips of her finger-paws to her rigid erect nipples, along her legs and up her back, through each ear and even in her tail. The chilly sensation evolved into a very warm feeling, an interior heat of stifling proportion. She shambled over to the stereo to change the tune and reached down to fondle at her clitoris, rubbing one out quickly, fantasizing heavily over the sight of Max's eye gazing up at her while his mouth kept busy, hungrily fellating her warm wolfdog cunt. She felt more liquid protrude from her slit, knees buckling madly with lust. She practically lost her balance and fell over but managed to keep her posture, thank goodness. 
Maxwell, still perched upon her elegantly-blanketed recliner sofa, adorned with worn leather and frilly polyester side-skirts, coughed and caught his breath, licking his lips clean, taking a sip of water from a nearby plastic cup that rest upon a small wooden end-table. The air inside her home was muggy and dank, but luckily the inside temperature was nowhere near as miserably hot as it was outside; a whopping one-seventeen and climbing still. Max let his jaw hang open wide and his tongue loll freely as he watched Sin give him an incredibly satisfactory lap dance, her succulent wolfdog pussy glistening brightly with his own shep-coon saliva. Between watching Sin sway her voluptuous hips and goddam perfect ass (tail flinging wildly in tandem with her body), listening to the sounds of cool jazz stifle the maddening heat of her dancing, inhaling the rich cloying scents of her over-heated pheromones, tasting remnants of her delicious beaver upon his tongue and lips and feeling his knotted shep-coon dick twitch and spasm impatiently, Max couldn't have been in a more suitable and ultimately perfect environment. The only way this moment could be any better was if Max had a pouch of Feral Times handy in a jean pocket, which he lacked this time around.
~
9:36pm CST
Initially, Maxwell arrived in response to a text message sent by Sin, urging him to swing by her place and take a look at the wiring behind her stereo's receiver unit. She knew that he'd be passing through her part of town soon and took the initiative to contact him directly. Luckily, Max and Brad had originally planned to drive down south to Texas with hopes of landing a beaucoup ganja shipment, which she also knew about, if not reluctantly so. The timing couldn't have been more perfect. Max insisted that Brad drop him off for a few hours, cruise around town, return after a spell and pick him up, so they can strap up and deal with the delivery of hardline product. One couldn't be too careful with such preparations. Brad suggested otherwise, insisting to Max that he'd rather show up with them both in tow than alone and instead opted to wait outside. 
Max didn't anticipate seeing Sin open up her front door completely nude and madly in heat.
Max's jaw dropped and he stared wide-eyed, simultaneously amused and aroused at the sight of Aveline's naked body, shaggy wolfdog fur coursing along her belly and limbs, tail wagging, nostrils flaring and panting aloud. She reached out and grabbed Max's shoulders, pulling him inside her humble abode. A decorative antique clock hung upon a nearby wall read four-fifteen PM, just about the hottest time of any summer day in Texas.
Heart racing and knees buckling under tremendous excited nervousness, Maxwell moved in swiftly and rubbed against Sin's hips, nudging his groin against her thigh. She cried out and laughed, dragging her slender finger-paws through his thick, matted raccoon-shepherd chest fur. She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tight, feeling his heartbeat thrumming against the surface of her cleavage, right against her breastplate. 
"Heya, shep-coon. Did you miss me?"
"Like you couldn't even fucking imagine, beautiful. I'm sorry I haven't kept in contact more often, so much has happened, so many others have-"
Sin clenched her hand-paw tightly around Max's muzzle, shutting him up mid-sentence. She preferred not to hear his statement, for some insubordinate reason that was simply beyond her comprehension. Jealousy? Disinterest? Maybe even a strange lingering fear? Whatever the case, she preferred less words and more passion, now that she was with her dearest beloved hybrid bassist.
Sin gasped at how damn turned on she suddenly felt. She'd be content with a plate of Ahi mango sushi followed by a rough fucking from Max, in as many positions as it took for them both to get off accordingly. Her mind swam into murky dark waters, exploring numerous fantasies and contemplating how fast she'd be able to make her beloved shep-coon cum from a well-given blowjob. She wondered what he'd taste like this time around; sweet, salty, bland, spicy, just right - oh, the endless possibilities!
She issued a string of small erotic moans as she spread her wolfdog legs, feeling Max's handpaws fondling at her canine bits timidly, moving with slow, precarious speeds. Here was a surgeon of ultimate pleasure, a shep-coon who knew his way around a wolfdog woman's passionate cravings, her imminent desires, her bare naked tribal urges, needs, wants, wishes. Sin reached up and clenched Maxwell's large Gshep-raccoon-hybrid head between her slender white wolfdog hand-paws. She pulled him close to her own face, noses touching, muzzles crossed and whiskers tickling off each other. Her tongue jutted out just an inch or two, lightly flicking off the tip of Max's nose. Sin smiled wide, teeth shiny with ivory brilliance. Her eyes settled upon his face, his masculine features, his slender lankiness and those thick dirty blonde dreadlocks, how they are always kept so clean and well-tended to. She noticed that his orange eyepatch was removed and she gasped aloud, freezing in place. Max's socket was filled with a fake eye that could give anyone a triple-take. Max blinked as Sin stared at his bright neon-green artificial eyeball, possessing not one but two slit pupils that ran down the center, parallel beside one another. Sin was at a loss of words. Maxwell noticed her staring and cocked his eyebrow. He giggled softly and kissed her with illicit passion, sliding his tongue against her teeth and clenching hold of one of her breasts, rolling and pinching a pierced nipple in-between two finger-paws. She moaned through the kiss, breathing heavily through her nostrils, closing her eyes and nearly forgetting all about Max's freaky fake eyeball. When Max and Sin's muzzles detached and saliva strands were outstretched from their lips, Max proceeded to remove his clothing, dropping a navy blue long-sleeved shirt, black denim jeans, purple briefs, a salmon-striped hair tie bandanna… all to the floor. Soon Max stood as nude as Sin, knotted shep-coon penis exposed in all its erect glory, incidental scars bared in full, striped tail twerking from left to right behind him. 
"Something tells me this isn't just a routine maintenance call." Max said, stern-faced and serious as all hell. He gave a small shrug and smirked at her. Sin held her composure for the most of five seconds before bursting forth a loud raspberry and cackling aloud like a crazed hyena. Max followed suit, laughing his ass off, rubbing at the sides of his belly, welling tears from his good eye's lids. 
"Yeah, I'll admit… I had ulterior motives. I'm just so relieved that you were so close by!" Sin said, wiping tears of laughter and absolute joy from the edges of her slim wolfdog eyelids. "I've missed you!!!" She ran up to Maxwell and hugged him tight, letting his erection rub against the folds of her vagina. He grunted aloud, surprised by the sudden contact of flesh to flesh. Sin rubbed her forehead against Max's chest and neck, silently embracing the impromptu contact of labia and longfellow. "I missed you so much, coonboy… I've thought about you quite often lately, couldn't begin to imagine what you've been up to. That's why I called you initially, to check in and see how things were goi-Oh Max!" Sin shrieked as Maxwell hoisted her up off her feet, pinning her against the same wall that the clock hung from, which now read four-fifty in the P of M.
"Max! Wait, what are you gonna do?" Sin said, playing on a little helpless-victim-violated kink, a particular fantasy that helped heighten the raw sensationally potent lust felt between them. "Please be gentle on me, okay?"
Max was so shocked by her response that he remained silent and tight-lipped for nearly a full minute. Those seconds rolled out into oblivion for what seemed like a freaking millennia. When she was scared that he'd just get dressed and leave her be, he threw his head back and laughed hysterically, not sure what to think. She snorted and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yuck it up, pal. Ha ha ha, and all that jazz. So what if I can't pull off a believable innocent schoolgirl cameo!"
"Oh, you played the schoolgirl off just fine. That's not why I'm laughing though."
"It isn't?"
"No."
"Well then, what is it?"
"I'm just thinking about how awesome it'll be to get a lap dance from you."
"Aww! That's sweet of you to say, you gigantic doofus." Sin said, tussling Max's dreadlocks playfully atop his slender canine head. He gently lowered her body to the ground, putting her back down flat on her paw-padded wolfdog feet. Max cleared his throat and reached down to caress Sin's firm buttocks, nudging his muzzle against her neck and chest, resting his head comfortably in her cleavage. He raised his head up, stared into her eyes, hungry for some good hard shep-coon loving, then pressed his muzzle against her cheek, lips very close to her ear.
"Also thinking about how amazing it'll be to fuck your brains out once more, beautiful."
Sin felt a tiny trickling sensation leak free from herself and run down her inner thigh upon hearing Maxwell whisper this particularly illicit statement to her. She wasn't going to break down her strong front though, so she maintained herself… despite the act being freakishly difficult with Max involved.
"Yeah, about that… isn't Brad outside, waiting for you?" Sin asked Max, brow cocked in a curve, rubbing her legs together, spreading the pussy juice against her inner-thigh fur.
Max nodded his head, grinning playfully. "Sure he is. I asked if he'd be interested in coming in and joining us, making it into a threesome." Max said, slowly combing his finger-paws through Sin's blue hair. "His response went along the lines of, 'Go lick a llama's balls, shep-coon.' Classy, right?"
"Oh, Max… there you go, charming everyone to death once more." Sin said with a snarky grin, chuckling deep within her gut. She reached down and rubbed at the swell of her labia folds. "Well, I guess you'll just have to work at it solo then, mister shep-coon. I'm not some easy dish for any man to consume freely though, you know."
"No, you're not an easy dish. You are a fucking delicacy and right now? I aim to prove it in full."
"Oh yeah? Well, maybe I might be able to help speed the process along just a bit. You'll have to do me a favor first though."
"Okay, what'll it be? Anything for you, Aveline."
Sin's heart levitated in her chest and she choked back tears of pure adulation for Maxwell, her most affectionate and caring friend, the perfect bad-ass and all-around considerate sweetheart and sexually-charged icon in her life. She didn't know what the hell she'd ever do with herself if she lost him. Not a chance. That wouldn't happen for years and years. He was just too damn integral in her life for something that ridiculous to occur. Oh sure, she'll most likely move on and meet another fine gentlefur, a more handsome and loving wolfdog suitor, for instance. Nobody truly lasts forever, unless they aim to settle down into a lifelong relationship. Or in most cases, marriage. Aveline Anchester wasn't about ready to become Aveline Blackburnadeaux-Anchester anytime soon. She enjoyed her independence far too much to allow anyone to grow far too close, too attached, to her. For now, she'd keep Maxwell at arm's length, as a dear friend with prime benefits and a fellow bounty-hunting assassin. She leaned in close to his head and whispered her wish, her demand, into his ear. His cheeks sweltered with heat and he felt his tail flinch madly, fine shep-coon fur filaments all stood on end. Max looked down at Sin's front room sofa and back into her eyes, yellow and fetching. Her ear piercings glinted with sunlight shining in from a large open window and she wriggled at her snakebite lip piercings with her tongue, adjusting her blue bangs against her face, awaiting his response.
"Uh, are you sure about this?"
"Yes. Now sit, coonboy."
~
After her lap dance (and his sloppy bout of feral-style cunnilingus) had wrapped up, Sin trotted over to where Maxwell sat. He practically melted into his seat. Sin laughed and nodded her head.
"Alright! That good then, huh?"
Max came back to the present, eyes returning from a thousand-yard gaze. He nudged and shook his head, then gazed up at Sin perplexedly, wondering how he even wound up on Sin's sofa. She urged him to scoot over as she sat down beside him, leaning up against his robust body, rubbing at his thigh and caressing his cheek. Sin planted a single kiss upon Max's muzzle and wrapped her legs around his hybrid thigh, pressing her foot-paws against his ankle. He reached down to fondle at her sex, pinching and squeezing at her exposed clitoris, shoving two or three finger-paws at once up into her vaginal crevice, masturbating her with diligence and determination. Sin moaned and gasped as she licked at Max's ear, nibbled the lobe and squeezed her legs tighter around his thigh, preparing herself for another deep sustained orgasm. She screamed aloud and shivered then the rush passed and her hearing came back to, freed from the void of deep buzzing that engulfed her senses entirely. Sin looked down and realized that she'd completely chafed his thigh fur with her climax. She licked her lips and considered that to be the hottest fucking thing ever, then she continued to grind against his leg and hugged him tight while he slurped his finger-paws clean of her wolf-girl nectar.
"Thanks for the lap dance, Sin."
"And thank you for the sweet release, Max."
"I love you so fucking much, it's unbearable."
"I love you too, you crazy bastard."
"Hey, you wanna smoke a J? I have one handy in my pants pocket."
"Nothing better than a joint after a quality lap dance, eh coonboy?"
"You got that right, you sexy fucker."
Sin blushed and tittered aloud, slightly embarrassed yet heavily turned on. She'd never been called a sexy fucker by anyone before. It sounded weirdly satisfying coming from her shep-coon. "Max?"
"Yes?"
Sin caressed Max in her grip, holding him close to her, pressing her breasts against his abs, locking her hand-paws against the sides of his head, overwhelmed by the levels of absolute gratitude she felt for him, even with a joint poking out from one corner of his lips and a fucked-up fake eye staring back at her.
"Never change."
He chuckled. "Not a fucking chance, girlfriend." He cocked a smug grin and clicked his tongue. Sin felt her groin grow moist and slippery; she hugged him tighter still, refusing to let go anytime soon. Aveline briefly considered retiring from the paid assassin and bounty hunting trade to settle down with Maxwell, to court him indefinitely into a long-lasting fruitful relationship, full of passion and romance, lust and privilege, something she'd been neglected for so long. They'd escape to a desolate location: a log cabin in the forested woods of Oregon, a beach hut on the coastline of Belize; somewhere unidentified and private, where they can live out the rest of their lives in peace and comfort… and a shit-load of raunchy, kinky hot anthropomorphic sex. Maybe even conceive a cub or two.
END