The clock ticked the lateness of the hour as Antony wandered across the well-worn carpet. His padded feet made hardly a sound, which by now was a miracle as his prodigious frame waddled before him. His swollen belly jutted out from the folds of his satin robe, the material shimmering a vibrant scarlet in the white glare of the television. On the screen, the credits rolled by, the tinny din of the old movie blaring as the coyote stepped towards the front door. There, a bowl sat upon the narrow table beside the door, its contents sparkling in myriad colors. Greens and reds danced with golds and glimmering blues, each a sweet temptation to the gravid canine. 

“Oh, maybe just one,” he muttered. “It’s late, the kids will all be in bed by now.”

His furry fingers crept along the rim of the bowl like that of a grey and tan spider, black claws seeking the crinkling wrapper of a caramel filled beauty. 

“Ah, my favorite,” he said as he untwisted the wrapper. 

The taste of milk chocolate splashed upon his tongue, the explosion of caramel a delight that made Antony clap both hands to his cheeks. His swollen belly fluttered, the life within him shifting, celebrating along with the coyote as he swallowed down that morsel. 

“Oh, you like it too?” he asked the protruding bump. 

Gently, he placed a hand on his stomach, his fingers sliding along the graceful curve of his pregnant belly. The unborn within him moved, kicking out against his palm to make Antony giggle. 

“It is late, I suppose,” he said. “We should be getting to bed. It’s Halloween after all. The time when spooky spirits are afoot. We wouldn’t want to be up at this hour.”

He made his way back to the living room, turning off the television before heading towards the stairs. Beside the staircase, sitting upon a low table, his telephone blinked. In the sudden gloom of the night, the red glimmer of the message light made the living room glow in stark crimson. Slowly, he pressed down the button, a voice reverberating from the mound of metal and plastic. 

“Hello, this is Dr. Peterson’s office,” said a high, thin voice. “We just wanted to let you know that both you and the baby are doing well. All tests look good. We’re glad that you decided to be the surrogate for this child.”

The message cut off with a sudden click and Antony draped a hand over his belly. He was happy for the experience and to help the nice fox couple who could not have children on their own. Still though, he thought, it would be nice to bear a child of his own one day.

“This pregnancy is making me all maudlin,” he muttered. His ears pricked up as the button blinked. “Another? I wonder who?”

He pressed the button and a rasping sound came to his ears. Whoever was on the other end was breathing heavily into the phone, their panting growing more rapid by the second. Antony felt his heart beginning to thud in his chest and the coyote drew his robe tighter across his milky bosom. 

“I’m gonna get you,” the voice then rasped. 

The message ended in a click, leaving the coyote standing by the phone, his eyes wide with shock. 

“W-What was that?” he stammered. “It must have been a prank.” His ears lowered and he laughed, though there was little in the way of mirth to that nervous chuckle. “I mean, it’s just a Halloween prank. The kids around here and all. Who would want to get me?”

As if to answer, the phone suddenly began to ring. Antony leapt into the air, nearly toppling to the floor had he not grasped the wooden bannister of the stairs. His heart hammered against his ribs, his belly drooping between his shaking thighs as he leaned forward. One hand, trembling, reached for the receiver. 

“H-Hello?” He could not control the quaver in his voice as he spoke. “W-Who is this?”

From the other end came a rasping pant, the same one that had left the message. 

“Gonna get you,” it said. 

“What do you mean?” Antony cried. “Who is this? Where are you? This isn’t funny.”

But the voice made no further reply, other than to repeat, “Gonna get you.”

Antony’s eyes wandered to the window, the blackness of the night filling that empty void. Was that movement, he wondered? From the corner of his eye, there was a flash of white, then nothing. 

“This isn’t funny,” he said. “I-I’m not alone, you know. I have someone else with me.” He was not technically incorrect. “I’ll call the police.”

“You don’t have anyone with you,” said the rasping voice. “I know, because I’m in your house.”

Antony’s eyes grew so wide as to threaten to fall out of his head. His flesh was drained of color beneath his fur. Prickles of numbness traveled down his arms. By instinct, he clapped his arm to his belly, shielding the life within his bloated womb. 

“W-What do mean,” he whimpered. 

“Look behind you.”

This time, the voice did not come from the phone. Letting the receiver fall from his nerveless fingers, the coyote slowly drew himself upright and turned towards the front door. The lock had been thrown back, the door slightly ajar. A slender thread of silver moonlight slithered across the carpet, the coolness of the night air finding its way into the house. A scuffle of padded feet from the couch drew his attention and the coyote’s heart stopped dead in his chest. Clad in a loose, white sheet, a figure stood. It was taller than he was, broader, with two black eyeholes cut into the fabric. Upon Antony seeing the figure, the intruder then raised both arms up, black hands sliding free of the white fabric, claws glimmering in the moonlight. 

“I’m gonna get you,” it said and began to step around the couch. Antony let out a shrill scream and rushed for the stairs, but his gravid bulk got out in front of him, causing the pregnant coyote to tumble. Striking the floor with his shoulder, he rolled, his arms around his swollen belly. 

“Don’t run away,” the figure shouted. “You shouldn’t run.”

It was moving quickly now, blocking his escape. He could not hope to reach the front door and with the figure coming close, he could not call the police. Like every bad horror movie, the coyote had no other choice but to ascend the stairs. Gripping the bannister, one arm around his pregnant belly, he stumbled up the stairs. His robe had come untied, flapping behind him to allow his breasts to fall free. Precious apricots that swelled ripe with fresh milk, their nipples a dark purple. Threads of white dribbled down the slope of his belly as he ran, the excitement causing him to lactate as he made it to the top of the stairs. Tears streaming down his cheeks, he whirled, seeing the ghostly figure at the base of the stairs. 

“You can’t escape,” it rasped and began its ascent. 

Bringing a hand to his quivering mouth, Antony could only shake his head and then turn, rushing down the hall. Where could he go? Where could he hide? His eyes flitted to the bathroom door, then to the little room he used as an office. At last, he gave up and dashed into his bedroom. Heaving for breath, he burst into the room, flinging himself onto the bed. The king sized mattress squealed beneath his weight, his fingers digging into the plush blue comforter that covered the crisp sheets. Burying his face into the softness of the blanket, he wept, his body shaking as if fit to fall apart. The intruder was in the hall, he could hear the heavy tread of its plodding feet. He had to get away. Antony looked up, seeing the moon streaming down from the night sky. How easy it must have been, he thought, to be the moon up so high. His ears swiveled then. The moon! The window, of course. 

Antony struggled to his feet and rushed to the window, grasping the sash, he lifted the pane, preparing to clamber out onto the overhang above his porch. He could escape. But, the coyote had neglected the size of his fetal girth and upon thrusting himself halfway out of the window, he discovered his swollen belly would not fit. Utterly defeated, he nonetheless strove in vain to push himself through the open window, hoping that he would tumble out onto the cool shingles and be free. A powerful hand seized his ankle and gave a mighty tug. A scream ripped through the night, echoing down the leaf strewn lane to set more than a few windows to light up in the gloom. But, the poor coyote had been dragged back into the bedroom, the window slamming down with a bang. Caught up in those terrible arms, Antony wept, pounding at the broad, but strangely soft chest as the ghostly figure tossed him onto the bed. 

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t hammer my tits like that,” said the figure. Antony crawled backwards like a crab, until the back of his head touched the oak headboard. Over the wobbling hump of his belly, he watched the figure place both palms onto the bed. The fingers, strong and covered in black fur, were enormous. A grey knee slipped free from the white sheet to fall upon the bed, setting the springs to squeal in protest. 

“W-What do you want from me,” Antony said, his eyes glistening with tears. Never in his life had been so scared. “Please, just don’t hurt me.” His hands fell to his pregnant belly. “Just take what you want.”

The finger towered over him, its panting breath billowing the white sheet. He could see nothing within the ebon holes that served for its eyes as it came to lay a hand on his hip. 

“Oh, I know what it is I want,” it said. “And what I want is you.”

That hand slid along the curve of his hip, exploring the jiggling softness of an ass made fat with maternal padding. Hard, strong fingers sank into yielding flesh, making the heat bloom in Antony’s cheeks before the coyote realized what was happening. 

“Oh no,” he cried. “No, you wouldn’t.”

“I would,” said the figure. 

It crawled closer, filling his vision with silvery white. It loomed above him, both hands poised just outside of his narrow shoulders. The powerful legs knelt on the bed, one knee positioned between his full thighs, forcing his legs apart. The moonlight streaming through the window cast the creature beneath that ghostly costume into full relief and Antony did not fail to see the thick, throbbing silhouette that was the intruder’s erect cock. Gulping, his flat tongue darted between his lips, his belly growing hot as he gazed upon that shaft. For all of his fear, his body was beginning to come alive. Terror was said to be a potent aphrodisiac. No wonder so many took their dates to scary movies. Only, he thought, this was not a movie. The figure lowered itself until the muzzle beneath the sheet was almost touching his snout. 

“You look good, tonight, Antony,” it whispered. 

Slowly, the coyote reached for the white sheet, snatching hold of the garment and pulling. Off tumbled the ghostly costume, falling to lay crumpled on the floor. Above him knelt a wolfess, her body heavy with rippling muscle beneath a coat of grey fur. From chin to belly, she was white, her forelimbs black. Between her legs hung that throbbing rod, flesh pink and criss crossed by pulsing veins of blue. Her balls churned within her furry scrotum, bristling tufts of white pubic fur sticky with the flowing precum that shimmered like an opalescent bead upon her weeping tip. Her breasts were full and heavy, hanging between her burly arms, their pink blossoms erect and ready. 

“Griz?” Antony’s fear left him in an instant, replaced by a mixture of wonderment and irritation. “What are… How did you get in here?”

“You gave me the key when you went on vacation, remember?” The wolfess shot him a fang-filled grin. “I thought I would make one more use of it.”

“Jeez,” Antony said. “You almost scared me to death. I thought my water was going to break there.”

The wolfess placed a broad black hand on the coyote’s belly. Her fingers rustled faintly through his fur, her hand warm on his swollen belly. The life within him stirred, fluttering against her palm. 

“Such a lively one,” she laughed. “Must be a troublemaker.”

“Why did you come?” asked the coyote. 

“I told you,” replied Griz. She laid herself beside Antony, her arm draped over his chest. Her muzzle came to his snout, her lips, black, glistening, grazed his ripe mouth. “I’m gonna get you. I’ve been trying to get you for so many years, Antony, but you always found a way to squirm through my fingers. Well, not tonight.”

Her lips met his with a kiss. Antony’s eyes went wide, the breath sucking through his nose in rapid puffs as he grasped the iron-hard biceps of the larger canine. Tearing himself free from Griz’s mouth, he gulped in a breath, tasting the cool air on his hot tongue. His lips tingled from the wolfess’s kiss and not, he had to admit, in an unpleasant manner. 

“Griz? Grizelda, what are you doing?” he asked. His ears fell against his furry head, his hand clinging to her arms. 

The wolfess gave him a smile, one of such welcoming gentleness, the sort of smile one should only see on their wedding day. “I told you already.” She laughed, her voice entrancing. “I’m gonna get you, silly pup. I’ve been chasing you for how many years now?” Her hand strayed along Antony’s wide hip, cupping his pregnant belly. “You were always getting away from me, but this time, I thought maybe it would be different.”

The wolfess’s great paw stroked Antony’s belly. Her index finger came to swirl around the hump of his distended navel, the coyote’s lower lip trembling as he watched her, gazing into her eyes. They were green, so green. Had they always been that color?

“Grizelda, I--”

“Don’t call me Grizelda,” the wolfess pleaded. “You know how much I hate that name. Just Griz. Griz and Antony, we’ve always been a pair.”

She paused, her hand sliding off of his belly. Her muzzle came to meet his once more and this time, the coyote did not pull away from her. Their lips closed together with the sharp, wet smack of saliva. Antony’s ears laid themselves upon his head, his eyes closing as he opened his mouth to Griz. Through the smooth, white teeth came her pink tongue, slithering across his red gums to explore the wet warmth of his mouth. The coyote arched his back, his pregnant belly thrusting upwards, his hips swiveling against the mattress. Griz slipped deep, curling her tongue back to caress the roof of his mouth, rubbing so deliciously along his rough tongue. Antony responded to the lupine’s touch, his own tongue darting between her fangs, twisting around Griz’s own tongue. Their lips parted with a crisp snap, only to meet again, and again after that. The moonlight glimmered on slick, wet flesh, their tongue writhing in midair, coiling around one another, twisting over and over again to patter shimmering droplets of spittle onto Antony’s chest. Drool leaked from the corner of the coyote’s mouth, but the canine paid it no mind. 

“Grizelda,” he whispered. 

The wolfess pulled back, one elbow bracing up her muscular bulk, while her other hand was fast making its way along the scruff of Antony’s breast. 

“Oh, Antony,” she sighed. “Please, just call me Griz. You know what? Don’t say anything at all.”

Her fingers found the sweetly wobbling mound and closed, cupping delicately that milky globe. Though he was not as large as the wolfess, pregnancy had done much to fill out the coyote’s figure. His breasts swelled, ripe and fat with fresh milk. His nipples were dark, leaking their vital threads of warm, rich essence, like ambrosia on the tongue. Antony let out a thin mewl, his shoulders sinking into the bed, while above him, Griz leaned down, her lips grazing the tender bud. Her tongue, broad and flat as a paddle, slid from her mouth to swirl around that erect nub, circling the bumpy flesh of his areola until the coyote was moaning his elation. 

“Oh, Griz,” Antony groaned. “Ugh, that’s so amazing.”

Her tail wagging, the wolfess looked up, her tongue still slithering around his nipple. The taste of fresh milk, the scent of his fur, like musk, drove her wild. Her heart was pounding, her own tender breasts dragging along the swell of his belly, the rustle of Antony’s fur too much for her to stand. 

“You’ve been so naughty,” she said. “Hiding these from me for so long. I’ve been wanting to get my hands on these sweet fruits, you can’t even imagine how painful it’s been.”

She dropped her muzzle to the coyote’s chest, her lips circling one such bud. With her tongue, the wolf stirred Antony into a frenzy, driving his bloated teat to vent its fury. Warm milk splashed into her mouth, her cheeks distending comically as the wolfess gulped, letting the sweet elixir pour down her gullet. Her belly gurgled, growing warm and full with the milk of her love. Still, she drank, her other hand on Antony’s breast. Her clawed fingers rustled through the tawny scruff, finding that erect bud. Pinching, she gave a twist, sending milk spurting down that furry mound. Antony’s eyes came open as a sudden yip escaped from his lips. Pain and exquisite pleasure bubbled in his brain, making the room swim before his bleary vision. He was falling, tumbling into that abyss of purest carnal pleasure. His hands shot out, wrapping around Griz’s neck as if she alone could save him from that fatal plummet. 

Alas that the wolfess then plucked her milky lips from his weeping breast, her mouth setting itself to travel that shadowed valley which ran between the glowering peaks. Her tongue slipped from her mouth, licking away the flecks of white that gathered upon her black lips before sliding down into the furry jungle. There, she traced a wet, sweet path between those mountains, gliding up into the oasis that was Antony’s collarbone. The coyote could do no more than whine, his chin tilting back to expose the curve of a slender, corded throat. The wolfess, with greedy relish, seized on that given neck, her lips closing around furry flesh. Griz suckled that offered throat, her hand dipping downward, finding a hip made wide with the coming of the coyote’s pregnancy. Her fingers did not stop there, for they were now gliding along Antony’s thigh, darting inward to seek the humid jungle that was the coyote’s pubic fur. 

Unable to resist any longer, Antony allowed his legs to part. His cock throbbed, growing erect, leaping from the tangled weave of grey and tawny fur. A pillar of dark purple, blossoming with pulsing veins of darker blue. His balls churned within his furry scrotum as the fingers of Griz claimed his bloated plums. 

“I think it’s time for some real trick or treating,” the wolfess whispered, giving a light squeeze. 

A groan bubbled up from Antony’s lips, the coyote arching his back, his thighs opening wide. The wolfess slid back, her lips, her tongue, traveling once more between his milky peaks, retracing their steps to plunge down into the valley before his belly. Up, she climbed that wobbling mountain, her kisses leaving behind a trail that would take her to the hump of his distended navel. There, she paused only to circle her ripe mouth around his bellybutton, slurping that tiny mound, letting her tongue bathe his gravid flesh before she then plummeted, sliding down the slope of his lower belly. Her hand came to rest on his inner thigh, her fingers playing at the sensitive flesh, making the coyote’s muscles jump as she came to curl her fingers around his cock. Gently, Griz began to stroke, her thumb pressing upon his velvet tip as she slid up that quivering shaft. 

“O-Oh,” moaned Antony. “Griz, I--”

“Hush, now,” Griz replied. 

Faster, the wolfess stroked, sliding up, then down, never slowing. Her fingers closed harder as she slid down, opening as she rose up, the rhythm driving Antony wild. Her hot breath billowed on his tip and the coyote could not hold back the bead of shimmering precum that glistened from his gaping urethra. Griz’s tongue was quick to lap that precious jewel, letting it settle like a fine wine in her mouth. The taste of her love was on her tongue and she must sup. Her lips closed around that fleshy rod, her tongue swirling along Antony’s plump undershaft. Her muzzle fell, sliding down to collide with the base of his cock, rising up once more more to suckle the spongy glans. With thumb and forefinger, she stroked, her other hand still grasping his fattening balls. A finger slipped from the furry scrotum to tickle the plump perineum, grazing the back of his bristling sack until the coyote was little more than gelatin in her claws. 

“Griz, I can’t… I can’t…” Tears were streaming anew from the eyes of the coyote. His belly heaved, as he gasped for air. “A-Ah, I think I’m about to explode.”

His cock wept its shimmering, bitter tears, spilling freely into the hungry jaws of the wolfess. Gleefully, Griz swallowed down that sticky wad, letting it pool in her belly. She craved the coyote, needing him more than anything. Griz plucked her lips from Antony’s member, his cock slick and shiny in the moonlight. Sitting up, she then grasped his robe and began to tug. 

“Let’s take that off,” she said. 

Shimmering satin spilled upon the floor, like fresh blood to pool across the carpet. A gruesome, beautiful display on this Halloween night. The coyote, bare of all clothing, rolled onto his side, showing the fatness of his fleshy rump. His jiggling cheeks parted ever so slightly, the scent of his lust wafting in the air, carrying the spice of his aroma to the nostrils of the wolfess. Griz sat up on her knees, the bed groaning in protest as she took hold of those hips. With fingers sinking deep into soft, yielding flesh, she parted the cheeks, revealing the slick button of Antony’s love. His ring was trembling, wet with the pungent nectar of his desire. On his elbows and knees, his belly sagging to the mattress, Antony lifted his tail, his need making his flower bloom. He craned his neck, looking back at the creature who had so tormented him. Griz was everything that most females were not. She was big, hard and rough. Her fur was not soft and delicate like that of most he knew, but stiff as a hair brush. Her muscles were unlike any he had known, her eyes twinkling with that hidden mischief. She was rude and crass, but she was everything he wanted, what he needed. 

Griz let her fingers slide along his hips, their claws just touching his gravid belly. His unborn stirred at their touch, rocking his sagging stomach as Antony let his head fall to the pillow. Meanwhile, Griz was lowering her own head, her muzzle now hovering just above his quivering anus. Her breath billowed hot and wet, scorching his puckered ring to make the coyote shudder. Her tongue slid from her jaws, tasting of his flesh and finding it to her liking. Gently, she ran her tongue around his swollen ring, pressing at the hot flesh, seeking to slip into him. Antony gave a whimper of surrender, opening himself to the wolfess. Her lips closing on his anus, Griz slithered deep, crashing against his shivering core. The coyote lifted his head to utter a howl of jubilation as the wolfess caressed his prostate. Curling back, Griz slid along the smooth walls of Antony’s rectum, swirling as the coyote suddenly closed around her. Instead of pulling back, she slid forward, once more circling his trembling gland. Antony shoved his head into the pillow, its stuffing muffling the screams that tore themselves from his throat. With both feet, he beat a tattoo of love upon the mattress, setting the bed frame to shake beneath them as if the legs would suddenly break. 

Her chin slick with the honey of Antony’s lust, Griz raised her grey head. With her burly hand, she wiped the nectar from her lips, then, placing each finger into her mouth, one at a time, sucked the honey from her claws. The hot sweetness filled her mouth, stirring within her the aching need to breed this wanting creature in her arms. The tender, gravid body before her, whimpering, shivering, cried out to her, demanding that she take hold of Antony. Her manhood throbbed, a thick glob of shimmering precum spattering the comforter like molten wax as she brought that rigid member to the coyote’s quaking rump. Her tip came to nestle against the puckered anus and Antony gave a moan. Griz laid her heavy body on his back, her soft breasts falling around his head. Their warmth suffused his already hot cheeks, their softness closing around him until he could see nothing but what was in front of him. The rippling muscles of her belly clenched, her hips driving down, crashing into his ass, forcing his pelvis down so that he rocked back on his belly. The life within his womb lashed out in protest, pummeling his kidneys with a flurry of excited kicks. 

“A-Ah,” cried Antony. 

The wolfess’s cock pressed into his button, forcing apart the virginal flesh. 

“It’s time,” Grize rasped. “I said I was gonna get you.”

Her hips shifted and she drove herself hard, opening that delicate bud, filling Antony’s belly with pain as flesh was stretched beyond its limits. But that pain gave way to a pleasure the coyote had never known. Throbbing, pulsing, the wolfess’s cock filled his rectum, swelling his pregnant belly with fresh expansion. Her manhood speared deep, slamming into the trembling prostate to make stars erupt in the eyes of the coyote. 

“Is this a trick or a treat?” she laughed. “Ah, does it matter, so long as it feels this good?”

Antony had no answer, for the breath had been blasted from the coyote’s lungs in a single, shrieking cry of utter bliss. His claws digging into the comforter, he pushed back, impaling himself on that fleshy stake. Griz responded, swiveling her hips to lift him from the bed, dropping him back down, pushing deeper. All the while, the wolfess did not stop in her dance, circling back, moving forward, her arm looping under Antony’s gravid belly. With a careful turn, she rolled the coyote onto his side. Antony tossed his leg over the wolfess’s shoulder, Griz continuing to pump. Her cock slammed hard, protruding in a small hump from his lower belly. His hand flying to that new swelling, Antony cupped his belly, relishing in the fresh ache of the wolfess’s rough ministrations. His ears flattened to his skull, his eyes closing as he let himself tumble into that swirling abyss. 

“Oh… Oh… O-Oh…” came the belly-aching moans. “Oh, Griz… Mmm, more.”

Her palms flat upon the bed, the wolfess began to quicken her pace. Her fur was growing damp, her breathing a rasping pant as she worked harder, thrusting deeper, circling to make the coyote squeal with rapturous elation. 

“Griz,” cried Antony. “Oh, yes.”

“You love it?” she asked. “I’m going to get you yet, little pup.”

Her great body collapsed on top of the canine, her arms winding around that gravid body. Sitting up, Griz held Antony in her arms, the coyote firmly seated in her lap. Her hips never stopped moving, thrusting upwards, always upwards. Her fingers came to clasp the round belly, feeling the stirrings of the coyote’s unborn beneath her fingertips. Griz brought her muzzle to Antony’s ear, kissing where his jaw met his skull. The wolfess’s lips quested along that narrow ridge, making her way to claim his pointed ear. Her snout nuzzled the furry lobe, her breath warm and wet. 

“Antony,” she whispered. “I know that this was a surrogacy and you are carrying a child for someone else, but,” she averted her gaze for only a moment, “would you consider having a child of your own?”

Her heart thudded in her broad chest, the booming reverberation like a clap of thunder. Antony’s eyes opened, the coyote turning his narrow snout towards the bed. 

“I did,” he said. “I would like to, Griz, someday.”

“But, you haven’t decided who you would want to have it with?” The wolfess smiled softly. Her strong fingers slid up the curve of Antony’s belly, making their way to the swell of his milky breasts. 

Antony shivered as those hard digits caressed his tender flesh. “I-I haven’t quite decided, but I think I might have an idea.”

“Is that so?” Griz chuckled. “Well, you don’t have to tell me now. Let’s just enjoy the Halloween night. The pumpkins are burning low, the candy is all eaten. It’s time we finished this.”

Antony reached back, his arms looping behind her head while the wolfess took hold of his thighs. Drawing his knees to his shoulders, she began to rock. Faster, harder, she pumped with a fury that drove the coyote into a frenzy of howls. 

“That’s it, sing for me,” she cried. “Join me in our revels, Antony.”

Griz flung her head back and uttered a howl to the silver moon, accompanied by the thin yelps of Antony, their hymn of love reaching the stars scattered across that black sky, the spirits wailing chorus to their love of these two living creatures. 

“Oh, Griz,” wept Antony. “I can’t take it anymore.” A stream of seed burst from his erect cock, spattering the covers. “Oh, please.”

“A-Antony,” moaned the wolfess. Her precum spurted, carrying with it the first white strand of her semen. “I-I’m about to come.”

Burying her muzzle into his scruffy neck, her nostrils puffing, Griz would release. Hot, bubbling seed poured into the hungry womb of the coyote. Antony’s hands fell away from Griz’s neck, their shaking fingers coming to the rapidly swelling belly which jutted forth. He was growing to the size of twins and not stopping as the wolfess pumped. Strings of sticky white clung to her shuddering cock, sliding out from the coyote’s ass, only to slam back in, sending loose strings of seed gushing onto her thighs. Antony groaned, his belly so full, so tight. 

“O-Oh, I’m so heavy.”

Griz let his legs fall, her arms folding around him, holding him, her face in his fur, inhaling his scent. Her cock locked against his battered ring, not daring to pull back as the pair remained motionless. Not until her manhood was softening, did Griz slip herself from her love. Semen poured from the coyote’s ass and Antony was quick to tuck his legs up, one hand coming to his rump. Gently, Griz laid them both upon the bed, the moonlight enveloping their sweaty, heaving bodies. 

“That was some treat,” said Antony. He rolled over to face the wolfess. “Or was that a trick?”

“It’s whatever you want it to be,” Grize replied. She draped a muscular arm over her love, drawing him to her. “I finally got you, just like I said.”

Antony dipped his muzzle into her breasts, savoring the warmth and the rich smell of her body. “I suppose you did. Just, next year, can you not scare me to death?”

The wolfess’s great body shook, her laughter the peal of a brass bell. “Oh, but you were so adorable. The way you fell back with a scream. I just can’t resist. But, I’m gonna get you again, just you wait.” She offered a kiss to the coyote’s lips. 

“But next year, I won’t be pregnant,” said Antony. “So you might not have as much fun.”

Griz placed a paw on his swollen belly, his flesh so stretched that his skin could be seen through his fur. “Oh, are you so sure? Perhaps you’ll be getting another treat. Wouldn’t that be something?”

Antony smiled, his eyes growing heavy as sleep began to take hold of them both. “Yeah, Griz, it would. Happy Halloween.”

“Happy Halloween, Antony,” said the wolfess. “I’m glad that we spent it together.”