“Huhhhhhhh~~~!!!” Marshall’s head and back threw into an arch as he came. He was a big Old English Sheepdog lying on top of his wife, Clarissa, in the missionary position. He all but blanketed her, sinking her into the mattress with his immense girth. His chunky buttocks were clenched tight, further pressing her downwards. His lower body was covered in shaggy white fur, transitioning abruptly to a dark gray from his midriff to his shoulders. His face, partially obscured by his long hair and fur, was twisted into a snarl as he unloaded his orgasm.

Clarissa winced as she felt his knot burst just inside her vulva, locking the two together. She was a fox with blondish-orange fur and luxuriously golden hair. She was taller than her husband, sporting long, full legs currently split open for his entry. She hugged onto him tight, resting her chin on his right shoulder. Her nose wrinkled as it inhaled the thick odor of the sweat he was currently bathed in. She had been under him for less than 10 minutes, but already her hips and inner thighs were sore from the jackhammer assault of his loins.

Marshall slumped forward on top of her, panting heavily. “Uhhh… Uhhh… Oh yeah… Ahh… That was nice.” He lifted his head and looked down at her. His lip was hung with a bushy white mustache and his eyebrows were just as unruly. His eyes were a deep brown visible even through the weak lamplight coming from the nightstand. “How was that?” he asked.

Clarissa smiled and held his face. She hadn’t cum, not even close, but she wasn’t going to hold that against him. “Mmmm,” she murred. “That was great, baby~” It felt good, sure, but was not at all what she needed. His cock was lodged deep inside of her. She could feel his seed squish and slosh deep within her womb. She wanted him to go again, but he couldn’t. She wiggled her hips beneath him. “Fuck… I can feel it so deep in my pussy.” She hated using that word, “pussy”, so vulgar and crass. It got him hot whenever she mentioned it though, never failing to make him erect or feel like a man.

Now wasn’t the case. “You sure?” he asked sardonically. “I… ah… I think I could’ve gone on a little longer. You didn’t cum, did you?”

She knew better than to lie. His face was sweet and cherubic, one that made hurting his feelings difficult, but even more difficult to lie to. “No, baby.”

“Ah, sorry.” 

“Shh, it’s OK. It felt good. You heard me moaning didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but… I don’t know.” A look of guilt came over him, one she’d seen on his face a lot recently, ever since he’d started making a concerted effort to improve his skills in bed. She wasn’t blind to it. Foreplay lasted longer, he called her sexy names, he ate her out more often than she blew him, his thrusts were so dramatic that he often slid right back out of her and had to reinsert. She insisted that he take things easy, but he was persistent. She was flattered, but she had to be real. Marshall wasn’t the love making type.

She kissed his nose. “You don’t think I was faking, do you?”

“N-no!” he said. “I just… I just think I can do better, you know.”

“You’re doing fine, baby. You’re thinking about it too hard.”

“You think?”

“Yes,” Now shut up about it and let me love you the way you are. But she knew he wouldn’t. Marshall was the hard working type, though that wasn’t as easy to perceive thanks to his jolly demeanor and generous size. He put the utmost time and effort into everything he pursued, be it a project at work or his personal relationships. Of course, that meant Clarissa was usually at the forefront of these efforts. Though he never said it out loud, Clarissa suspected him of having some kind of inadequacy complex, partly thanks to her. While he often bathed her in compliments and gifts, he just as frequently bemoaned his physical shortcomings. ‘God, I need to lose weight. I wish I could make myself eat less!’ ‘If I was just a few inches taller I think I’d stretch this weight out a little better.’ ‘I bet you wish I was as hung as those guys you read about in those romance novels!’ Sometimes Clarissa laughed, other times she didn’t. She took every chance she could to let him know that he was perfect for her, and that he didn’t need to change a thing.

Yet all of the time, she agreed with him. She never said it outloud, and never would, but every self-deprecating remark from him had her inner-devil telling her that he should do something about his weight, that he could use a few inches to his height, and that yes, his penis fell woefully short of the ones she read about in those lewd novels. He was the one who introduced her to them, and she bought more to help satiate fantasies and desires Marshall couldn’t fulfill. It made her feel dirty, slutty even. Marshall made her the luckiest woman in the world, taking care of her whenever she needed it. He was her rock, her shoulder to cry on. How dare she criticize him in any way, especially for things he couldn’t control?

“I guess so,” he sighed. “I guess it’s kinda a man thing. You gotta please your wife. Sorry for making a big deal of it.”

“Baby, you do more than enough for me.” She patted his butt. “If I did need something from you, I’d let you know, wouldn’t I?” No, apparently not.

“Yeah, you’re right. Ah…” He squirmed his hips. “Dang it. Give me a minute.” His knot was still fat, and would stay that way for a while.

“Take your time. This means I get to look at your pretty face longer.” She said, smiling.

He chuckled. “And I get to look at yours.” He kissed her lips, locking with them and tickling her face with his mustache. Everytime she felt those thick hairs brush across her face she recalled the first time they met. It was hardly love at first sight.  God, that must be a pain in the ass to kiss, she thought the first time she saw it. Clarissa, nor Marshall, could’ve guessed that she would eventually fall in love with that mustache and the man it was attached to.

Their kissing continued until finally his swelling died down. He awkwardly tilted over to the side and twisted his hips until the width of his knot matched the length of her vulva. It slurped out, deeply coated in his cum and her juices. He clumsily rolled over onto his back, his chubby penis sticking from his sheathe. “Ahh, God. There we go.” He squirmed his way up the bed and pulled the comforter over his legs. “Whoo… I could go to sleep after that.”

“Mmm, me too.” That was a lie. Clarissa was wide awake, invigorated by the feel of his seed still inside of her and oozing out from her cunt. Though Marshall certainly did most of the work, it was an exercise being underneath him, bearing the brunt of his weight. It kicked her into a state of alertness like witnessing a fistfight. The action was over, but she was ready for more at any moment. She was still horny, and though he burnt off much of it, there was still a lot more that needed to be dealt with.

“Are you going to sleep?” he asked, on his side, facing her.

“Yeah.” She feigned a yawn. “I gotta get some sleep.”

He scoffed. “What do you got to do tomorrow?”

“I dunno. Sit around, be lazy, watch TV. Real back breaking stuff.”

“I can tell. Don’t work too hard now.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Good night. I love you.”

She kissed him back. “I love you too.” Marshall bundled himself up into the comforter and closed his eyes. Clarissa did the same. She did not fall asleep, however. She was busy listening to Marshall, waiting. After a long wait, she heard the gentle rumble of his snoring. Good. Here we go. She very carefully slid the covers off and stood off of the mattress. When her foot paws touched the hardwood floor, she applied her weight slowly, pound by pound, making sure there was no creak of wood. She tip-toed to the bathroom, which she made sure to keep open every night before going to bed. She kept the light off, and sat on the toilet with the lid down. She looked into the bedroom. Even with the shroud of darkness, she could make out the faint outline of Marshall, still on its side, inflating with each snore.

She watched him for several seconds, waiting to see if he would move or stop snoring. He didn’t. She licked her lips and scooted to the edge of the toilet, hanging over her wet womanhood. She spread her thighs and slid her paw down to the outer fringe of her vulva. Her cheeks grew hot. Sorry, Marshall. She dipped her fingers in, feeling the wet slop of Marshall’s cum. She drew deeper, down to where her clit sat hidden under the hood of her flesh.

A nip of joy settled in her cunt, forcing an inhale. She bit it back, keeping her jaw clenched and her lips pursed. She breathed through her nose exclusively, keeping it long and slow. She twirled her fingers around her clit slowly, just to get herself rolling. Her bushy fox tail jumped and twittered behind her. She grabbed it with her free paw to keep it under control. She briefly considered chomping on it, but thought that was overkill. She brought her wrist in a heavy hooking motion, swiping and unswiping her two fingers against that sweet pearl.

She closed her eyes. She indulged in a pleasure that made her feel guiltier than when she secretly agreed with Marshall’s self-deprecating remarks. She pictured men that weren’t him making love to her, the same ones she read about in her romance novels. Big, strong, handsome men wielding breeding tools far exceeding the average. She imagined herself thrown in every position they wanted her. They drilled her to the balls, hitting spots never achieved before. She screamed her delight, chanted their names, and begged for more. They gave it to her, and then some.

She had a particular favorite stud that she imagined. He didn’t originate from any novel that she read, or from anyone that she actually met. She just sort of concocted him together out of everything she pictured to be perfect on a man. He was an amalgamation of everything she read about, or saw on the streets. He was a tall, muscular black stallion. His body thrummed with muscle venous and dense, shown off across every square inch of him through the jet black fur that coated him. His hooves were large, perfect for fondling and caressing. His arms were like small trees, capable of carrying any woman wherever she wanted.

And of course, he had a really, really big cock. One that triumphed above all others, setting a precedent for her that could never again be reached. It would stand from him audaciously, webbed with pulsing veins and glowing with heat. His balls would hang from the root like ornaments, carrying with them the seed of his children which Clarissa would graciously accept.

This absurdly masculine gentleman would make her cum her brains out at every whim, never losing stamina, never finishing too early. He would put her in every position she wanted, slamming his cock into her with a certain force she could never stop. But she wouldn’t want him to. She would want it to last forever.

“Nnnf!” her climax hit her suddenly, jostling her thighs and tummy. She scrunched her face up tightly, putting every bit of effort into keeping herself silent. She succeeded mostly, letting go only a quiet squirt from between her teeth which were clamped onto her bottom lip. Soon the bubbling pleasure died away, and she was able to settle. Her breath came out long and smooth through her nose. She couldn't relax, though. She looked over into the bedroom. Marshall hadn’t moved and was snoring heavily. Good.

She slipped her fingers out of her cunt and looked at them. Though the bathroom was dark, she could make out the faint glisten of her cream and Marshall’s cum slathered over them. She could smell her orgasm, an odor she had never picked up whenever Marshall fucked her. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to. Maybe it was her punishment for resorting to this while being married to a man who loved her, and whom she loved. 

Even as the pleasure of her orgasm still simmered along her nethers, a heavy guilt weighed on her. She looked over at her husband again. He was still asleep, snoring blissfully. This is the last time. But she knew that was foolish. She told herself that everytime. She wiped her fingers and what residue remained with some toilet paper which she tossed into the toilet. She tip-toed back into the bedroom and slid back into her spot on the bed. Marshall stopped snoring for just a moment, and she froze. She watched him wide-eyed for several moments, waiting for him to stir. He didn’t, and resumed his grumbly snores. With an immense sense of relief, she laid down and closed her eyes, finally able to go to sleep.

*	*	*

The couple woke up to Marshall’s alarm. He got up to get ready for work while she remained in bed. Marshall was a recruiter at a bank, the job that earned them the comfy house that they lived in. He got dressed and cooked breakfast while Cassandra remained lazily sacked up in the covers until finally she mustered the will to get up and take a shower. When she was done she stood naked in front of the wardrobe, picking out clothes. Marshall walked in on her.

“Damn!” he barked at her. “Looking fine this morning!” he said, then gave her a sexy whistle.

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Hush. You’ve seen me naked a thousand times.”

“And I’ve seen the sunset a thousand times, doesn’t make it any less beautiful.” He stepped up to her and kissed her cheek. She blushed, much more flattered than she let on. Her fox tail swished behind her happily. “And I’ve seen that ass a thousand times too, and I’d like to see it a thousand times more.”

Clarissa rolled her eyes again, this time with real annoyance. “Oh, please.” 

He fell down to his knees beside her and got eye-level with her plump backside. He hovered his paws above her haunch, just inches away from groping it. “God, it’s something amazing. I could just look at it all day.” He laid his paw on it and gave it a friendly squeeze. “Nice and round… Girl, you thicc.”

“Pffft!” She broke into laughter. Marshall was the nerdiest goofball she knew, which made his attempts at sexy talk so funny. She batted her fox tail against his face. “You sure do know how to compliment a woman. Now get up, you doofus.”

“Why? Your butt is down here.” He massaged her haunch around, which she had to admit felt good.

“I know it is, but my lips are up here.”

He smiled up at her. “They sure are.” He tried getting up which was a struggle thanks to his weight. Everytime he stood up Clarissa was afraid that he might topple over and break something, be it in him or an object unfortunate enough to be near. He got to his feet. Clarissa felt the floor shift precariously beneath him like it was ready to collapse. He got his balance and perked his lips for a kiss. He was breathing heavily through his nose, but still needed her affection.

God, I love him. She pecked him on the lips and patted his belly. “What’s for breakfast?” she asked.

“Bacon and eggs. I poured you some cereal too.”

“Thanks, baby. You’re heading out now?”

“Yup. Wanted to say goodbye.”

“And tell me how good my ass looked?”

“Oh, of course!” he said, grabbing her butt again. “I don’t do it enough, you know.”

She laughed and swatted him away. “Stop! Go to work, dummy!”

He gave her a playful spank. “See you this afternoon, baby. Love you.”

“Yeah,” she said, still laughing. “Love you too.” Marshall left and Clarissa got dressed. She put on a casual white t-shirt and some skinny jeans. She hadn’t really anything planned for the day. If she was in the mood, which she rarely was, she might do some cleaning, or something else productive. More likely than not, however, she would spend the day on her butt reading or watching TV with a glass of wine in her paw. She might invite a friend over for a drink, or go somewhere instead. Whatever her day turned into, it wasn’t going to be anything wildly different from the ones she usually experienced. 

Not having Marshall home was something she had gotten used to to some degree, but she had trouble not remarking to herself how lonely it could be. Yes, she had friends, old and new, but conversations with them more often than not involved nothing more than petty gossip or tales retold again and again. Marshall provided something most people couldn’t, which was an interesting conversation that could lead to a myriad of subjects, be them about work or elsewhere. Terrible flirt that he was, he at least had the ability to hold a conversation both interesting and engaging. Him not being home created a void of sound that left the place feeling eerily hollow. Clarissa busied herself the best she could, and tried her best to convince herself that she wasn’t lonely, sometimes successfully, sometimes not.

She spent that day like any of the others, busying herself with tasks to help keep her mind off of the fact that there was nobody else with her. She briefly considered calling her friends, but for whatever reason decided that she should catch up on her reading instead. She took a seat on the couch in the living room and furled her legs beneath her, propping herself up on the couch’s armrest. With a cup of coffee (Too early for wine, she noted with some dismay) steaming on the table next to her she flipped her book open. All for her, was the title of the book, written across the cover in a sensuous cursive. With it was a handsome German Shepherd in a suit, pulling away the flap of his jacket to reveal the white button-up shirt which clung tightly to his well-chiseled trunk. Behind him was a gorgeous Somayed in a dark blue dress, her back turned to show off her enormous curves. Both protagonists looked over their shoulders at one another, as if at odds over some feud, yet drawn to each other by the lure of their bodies.

Spoiler Alert: They fuck.

It wasn’t Clarissa’s first time reading it. This was probably her third or fourth reading. Each time prior had been accomplished in less than two hours. It wasn’t a particularly thrilling read, or anything impressive. Most anyone who read it would’ve written it off as your typical dollar store erotica. In fact, Clarissa had bought it off Amazon for less than five dollars. She asked herself repeatedly, Why do I keep coming back to this one? What makes it so hot?

But she knew the answer. Stella, the heroine featured on the cover, was a housewife who felt estranged from her husband who was often out on business trips or drinking with friends. Enter Chris, the handsome stud featured alongside her on the front cover. He too was spouse to an itinerant wife, and seeks affection elsewhere. The two cross paths at a party and become smitten. Of course, they are initially reluctant to be so delinquent. That hesitation vanishes when their marriages deteriorate, and they soothe their marital woes in a passionate night of sweaty, balls-deep fucking.

Clarissa hated loving it so much. It was impossible for her to deny that Stella was living her fantasy. Clarissa was never the woman to seek out a cure for her sexual frustrations from another man. She loved Marshall dearly, and knew just how much he loved her. She wouldn’t betray that under any circumstance. But the loneliness brought on by Marshall’s absence and his shortcomings in bed imbued her with an imposing desire to give herself what Marshall couldn’t.

With a self-loathing sneer she flipped the book open straight to the final sex scene. Stella and Chris had divulged their failing marriages, and immediately afterwards their feelings for each other. Bla-bla, yadda-yadda, and their clothes were off. Stella remarked on Chris’s masculine endowment, one that far outdid her husband’s. Chris complemented the gentle way she touched him, one far more kind and expert than what his wife did.

“Fuck,” Clarissa grumbled, feeling herself getting aroused. Why do I do this to myself? Already her paw was slithering to her crotch where she popped the button to her jeans and unzipped the fly. She tugged aside the G-string of her panties, exposing her moistening cunt. She sifted her fingers through her wiry thatch, continuing to read. 

Oh, Chris, baby. I want you inside me so bad.

Really? You’re that horny?

Yes. My pussy’s so wet. I want your fat cock inside of me.

It wasn’t quite Shakespearean, but it certainly got the message across. Clarissa pictured herself saying those lewd words, expressing them with a lurid tone more breath than voice. She couldn’t help but move her lips to the dialogue. I want your fat cock inside of me. She graced her fingertips across her vulva and winced. Dammit. Am I really gonna do this on the couch? I should go upstairs. I don’t wanna ruin anything. Counterargument to this reasoning was her body letting her know just how horny she was, causing her to dip her fingers into her womanhood and humping her hips against them.

“Mmm…” She read on. Stella got on her knees and sucked Chris’s cock. Clarissa’s nipples got hard as she imagined his dense, hot flesh gliding across her own tongue. She recalled the first time she performed oral on Marshall, and how disappointing it was just how little he filled her mouth. Chris wasn’t so meager, filling Stella’s maw to the throat before her nose could touch his pubis. Clarissa’s finger went faster, molding itself around her clit. “Ohh…” she moaned. She put the book down. The image the book created was now firmly implanted in her mind, requiring no more input to make itself seem real.

Soon what Clarissa imagined was very separate from the book. The black stallion was back, filling her mouth with his magnificent horse cock. He pet her hair, making sure to keep it out from in front of her eyes. He stayed still, letting her do her own work, difficult as it was with his immense girth. He told her to take it easy. Go slow. It’s not a rush. She’s doing fine.

“Ohh… Fuck…” She gripped the armrest with her free paw and leaned against the backrest. Her fingers sped up as she pictured the stallion kneeling in front of her then inviting her onto his lap. She accepted his kind invitation, then sat on his cock and impaled herself. He let her ride him at first before eventually taking control, grabbing her by the ass and thrusting into her deep. “Nnf… Ohhhh… Uhhh…” Like every fantasy with that handsome stud she was put in every position that he pleased, penetrating her to depths she’d never experienced. She would cum again and again, bellowing his name, whatever it may have been, every time.

Inevitably her mind flashed back to her husband. What if he walked in on them? What if he walked in on her now? That wouldn’t stop them or her. She pictured him aside, watching as his wife got plowed in a manner he could never dream of. He wouldn't feel pain over it, though. He would sit with his cock out, stroking it at a furious pace as what he saw made him so horny that he simply couldn’t stop. The stallion would cum, triggering a mind-shattering orgasm in both her and Marshall. That thought struck an emotional chord in her, one very confusing, but undeniably arousing. Reality soon matched her imagination when she came, gasping loudly and shaking hard. Her hips bucked as her fingers still worked her clit, extending her orgasm for as much as it was worth. “Huh! Huh! Huh! Huhh! Ohhhh! Huhhhhh…”

She settled eventually and faded back into reality. She looked down and saw her jeans wrinkled half-way down her thigh. Her panties were slid aside for her vulva which was now hung with a clot of her cum. She grimaced as she pulled her finger out, now defiled in her residue. A pit of regret settled in her belly. Twice, in twelve hours. Dammit. Her nose crinkled at the smell she’d released, fleshy and feminine. She had to take care of that immediately. She got off the couch and slid off her pants and underwear. She was glad to see her pants had gone untouched, but she was still going to have to put on a new pair. She was thankful Marshall had left before she got dressed; he might’ve noticed a change in wardrobe.

She got herself clean and fetched some replacement bottoms. She tossed the soiled clothing into the wash and came back downstairs to inspect the couch. The book was discarded unceremoniously on the rug. She leaned her head towards the proximity of where she was sitting and took a few whiffs. Yup. She could definitely smell cum. She sighed and took the time to clean the couch, ridding it of any of her scents. Making sure Marshall wouldn’t question why she cleaned just the couch, she took the time to steam clean the rug too. Goddammit. All this effort because I had to masturbate. As she swiped the cleaner across the rug she felt the guilt settle upon her like it usually did. What would Marshall think? How would he feel? He already knew that she read those books, and it was pretty obvious she masturbated to them. Did he get jealous? Did he feel less like a man? She didn’t want him to feel any of those things, no matter how hot it made her thinking that he might.

She put the cleaning gear away in the closet and sat at the kitchen table to watch TV, occasionally making a trip over to the couch to see if she could smell any of herself. She never did, but that didn’t stop her from checking again and again.

*	*	*

Marshall got home that evening not showing any signs of recognizing what his wife had done. He did, however, thank her profusely for cleaning the sofa and the rug. “You did a good job! It smells so nice in here now! Wonder how long that’ll last.”

“Not long if either of us have anything to do with it,” she said with as much humor as she could muster. It got a laugh out of him.

Marshall cooked dinner and told how his day was. Most of it went over her head, at least all of the banking jargon. He liked to crack jokes about his friends and share funny things they had said, no matter how raunchy or degenerate. Clarissa hardly knew any of his coworkers, but felt she had been friends with them for years based on how Marshall talked about them. He asked how her day was, and she gave her usual response. “Y’know, curing cancer, putting men on the moon, splitting the atom, achieving world peace.” Masturbating to men that aren’t you.

“Oh, great! That means you can start earning some money and pulling your weight around here.” That was a recurring joke of theirs, one that wasn’t terribly funny but never seemed to get old. It was all in good fun.

She playfully tapped her toe against his shin beneath the table, as if kicking him. “I pull my weight around here just fine, mister mister.”

He chuckled. “Of course you do.” They finished dinner and Clarissa went upstairs to finish laundry. She pretended not to notice the pair of underwear and jeans she had put on that morning and had to replace. She folded them and placed them with the rest, making them look no more distinct than any of the others. She came downstairs to the living room where Marshall was on the couch, looking at something on his laptop with an intense look on his face. He was wearing headphones, oblivious to her arrival.

“Watcha lookin’ at?” she asked nonchalantly.

Marshall jerked in his seat. For a split second she saw his eyes go wide and his pupils shrink. His finger swiped across the touchpad and made a curt jab, clearly exiting whatever he was looking at. He looked up at her and raised his mustache with a smile. There was a wild look in his eyes, one Clarissa thought she had never seen before. He slid his headphones off of his ears. “What’d you say?” he asked. His voice sounded ready to crack.

Clarissa was frozen, completely taken off guard and unsure of what to do. Oh my God. Was he looking at porn? Down here? She didn’t hold it against him, not after what she had done on the very cushion where he was sitting, but it did come as a shock. This was her first inkling that Marshall indulged in lewd websites. More than a hint, it was a full on smack in the face. She realized that she was standing on the rug, flabbergasted. She made herself speak. “Ah… I was just wondering what it was you were watching.” She tried sounding casual in spite of the heavy pit that had materialized in her belly.

“Ahah… Just some YouTube video a friend recommended to me. Wanna see?” He turned the laptop over on his lap as if to say, See? Nothing wrong here! I’m innocent! His eyes were still broad like saucers, desperate for her to believe him.

She didn’t, but she wasn’t ready to call him out on it. “Sure.” She sat down next to him and watched what he had on. It was just a standard compilation of funny TikToks, or so the title of the video described them. It made her chuckle a few times, even burst out laughing on occasion, but several things nagged at her. The video was already at the beginning; Marshall had never started it over for her. Every time he laughed she couldn’t help but think it was forced, like he was really trying to prove to her that the video was worth watching. Lastly, if it was that funny, why was he looking at the computer so seriously? The video ended with all of these weighing heavily on her. A smile was on her lips from laughing, but it was not without a hint of doubt and regret.

“Oh shit, that was good,” Marshall said, bouncing with chuckles. “Wanna watch another one?” 

“Oh! No thank you. I’m not a big TikTok fan,” she lied.

“Ah, that’s alright.” His smile quickly faltered. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Yeah,” she said. “You too.”

That night they were getting ready for bed. It was a Friday night, meaning Marshall had the weekend off. They were in just their underwear together, spooning. Marshall was latched to her back, nuzzling her soft blonde hair along her shoulder. His paw was on her tummy, rubbing around her navel. His hips were respectfully kept away from her butt by the barrier of his furry gut, but she could feel the presence of his erection all the same.

“What do you wanna do this weekend?” he mumbled, nudging his cold nose against her trap. 

She brushed her floofy fox tail around his ankles. She massaged the back of his paw, enjoying the way he rubbed her belly. “Mmm, there’s a new restaurant on Guerrero Street, next to the hospital. We can try that place.”

“What do they serve? What’s the name of it?”

“I forget. I just pass it a lot and know that it’s open now.”

“Alright, cool.” He kissed the back of her neck, sending sharp nips of electricity down her spine. Her tail flicked and her hips squirmed. “Anything else?” he asked.

“Well… Maybe we can watch a movie.”

“Great. I haven’t been to the theater in a while. What’s on?” He reached up and fondled her breast, eliciting a tiny gasp.

“Mmm… I have no idea.” She reached back and rested her paw on his hip.

“Mmm, maybe we can look it up tomorrow. Or hell, why don’t we just wing it and pick one when we get there?” He pushed his hips forward, introducing the stiffness of his cock to her behind. She pressed back against it, feeling its heat emanate towards her own.

“That sounds fun…”

“Awesome, then it’s a plan.” He touched his lips to the back of her pointy black ear and nibbled softly. “Anything you want to do tonight?”

Clarissa was quiet for a moment. “Yeah, there is. I wanted to ask you a question.” Her tone was direct and unwavering, although anxiety tugged at her heart. God, this is gonna suck.

He sensed her solemnity. “Yeah, baby. Anything. What is it?”

She had a good feeling that he knew what she was about to ask. “What was it you were looking at on the couch earlier?” She asked it with a deadpan delivery that surprised even her.

Marshall stopped groping her breast and he eased off of her rump. It was his turn to be silent for a while. “Well… That’s complicated. It’s something I wanted to ask you about.”

Clarissa frowned. “Ask me about?” She turned her head towards him. “What is it? What were you looking at?”

	“Well, it wasn’t technically porn, I can assure you that. I swear.”

“Technically porn?” That only made things confusing. She wiggled off of him and scooted up to the nightstand where she turned on the lamp. She sat up and frowned at him. “What do you mean ‘not technically porn’?” She wasn’t accusing him or anything, but such round-about answers were starting to frustrate her.

He laid there with his head propped up on his fist. His lips were pursed as he tried coming up with a more satisfactory response. He chewed on it for some time before he spoke. “Well, I guess what I was looking up was… kinda a gift for you.” He could tell by her resulting look that she still wasn’t understanding. “What I mean is… I guess…” Another round of silence. He stared off into the distance before snapping his eyes up to hers in a way that made her heart skip a beat. “Do you ever think about other guys?”

Clarissa just stared. Her jaw fell open to speak, but it was purely a reflex. She didn’t know how to respond, it was so abrupt. I guess this is what I get for asking him so bluntly. “Well… What do you mean?”

“I mean, do you think about… You know…” He twirled his paw in a circle like he was trying to drag the words out of her. “Guys… sexually? I know you read those novels all the time about those super hung studs who fuck the brains out of women. I know your favorite is All for Her, the one about the wife that cheats. Yeah, I read it. It was kinda hard not to after I saw how hot it got you.”

	Her demeanor was calm, but inside she was in full panic. Fuck. I totally underestimated how much he knew. Guilt like she hadn’t experienced gripped her heart. She tried to remain stoic, but her body felt numb. “Well, I sometimes think about the guys in those books, and yes, it gets me pretty hot. The way they’re described is pretty sexy.”

He nodded. “You’re right about that,” he said somberly. “Do you think about them when you masturbate?”

That was a punch to the gut. “Um… Yeah, sometimes.”

Marshall chewed his lip. “Do you think about them when you masturbate after we have sex?”

That, somehow, wasn’t as crushing to hear. It was a terrible burden not knowing whether he knew about that or not. Hearing him confront her about it was both an icepick to the heart as well as an anvil lifted from her shoulders. “Yes. I do.” She said flatly.

He nodded, betraying little emotion. “Ah… It’s OK, baby. I’m not mad.”

She laid down next to him and pulled her snout to his, touching noses. She held the side of his face. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

“Shhhhhhh,” he hushed, grabbing her wrist. “I said I wasn’t mad. I meant it. You did nothing wrong, baby. I swear. In fact…”

She frowned. “In fact what?”

“In fact, you know… I think it’s kinda hot when you masturbate to other guys.”

Clarissa blinked. “You do?”

“Yeah.” He was dead serious.

“Oh. Wow. Um…” What the hell am I supposed to say to that??? “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

“Baby, you know me better than that. Do I lie to you like that?”

“No.”

“Exactly.” He sighed. “I just think it’s kinky, in a weird way. You remember how I bought you your first erotic novel?”

“Yeah.” How could she forget?

“I did that cause I wanted you to get off on something. Lord knows I wasn’t doing the job.”

“Baby…”

“No, gimme a second.” She jerked her head back a little. He was rarely, if ever, this assertive. “I gave you that book knowing you would think it was hot and masturbate to it. What else would you have done with it? I knew what it was about. Half of them are about cheating. I kinda wanted you to get off to it because it would help me get off.”

“Wait. You were jerking off…” She pointed to her chest. “To me jerking off?” Jerking off was probably the wrong term, but she preferred to keep the flow.

He smiled guiltily. “Yyyyyeah. I kinda was.”

“Huh… That’s…” She had to take a moment to figure out what it was. “Kinda cute… In a really weird way.”

“You think so?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

“Yeah. Like I said, in a weird way.”

He chuckled. “I guess that’s the only way it could be.”

“What makes you get hard about it? Like, what about it makes you think it’s hot?”

“Well, I guess it’s because I think it’s naughty or dirty. I like the sneaking around, believe it or not. Like you and I are both doing something we shouldn’t, you mostly.” She frowned at that. “No, don’t feel bad about it. Like I said, it’s hot. I know you’re thinking about other guys when you do it and that makes me kinda excited.”

“Oh. OK then. So what if you… Oh God…” She blushed and looked away from him. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to ask.

“What if I what? It’s OK, baby. Go ahead.”

She gulped. “What if you walked in on me doing it… with another man?”

Marshall didn’t say anything for a while. He doted on that possibility deeply, chewing his lip and staring off into the distance where the room was dark with shadow. “I think if that happened I would be really hurt, but I think about that happening too, sometimes, and that gets me really horny.” He said it in an indirect way that made Clarissa unsure if he was saying it to her or to himself.

Clarissa’s tail flicked behind her. What was happening? What was he saying? He was totally clear and articulate, but a big part of her was convinced that it was all fake. “You think about me having sex with other men? And that gets you hot?”

He didn’t hesitate this time. He nodded curtly. “I do,” he said, then added, “A lot.”

“Wow.” She squirmed her thighs together. Fuck. Is this making me horny? “And that doesn’t hurt you or make you jealous?”

“I mean, a little. I realize that guys shouldn’t fantasize about their wives cheating on them, but oddly enough, that makes it even hotter. I guess it’s kind of a masochist thing. That feeling of being bested by another guy, one that can really please your wife better than you, makes my dick really hard.” He laughed uneasily. His cheeks were red. “I guess you could say I have a humiliation kink. Damn, I’ve never said that out loud before.”

She was picturing it again: her on the bed with the stallion getting plowed hard while Marshall sits nearby, dick in paw. Dammit, she was horny. “Yeah, um… That’s OK. I think it’s cute.” That was an understatement. She didn’t think she had been so turned on with him before. This confession of his was exposing an extreme vulnerability, one that she could’ve easily exploited. She wouldn’t dare, of course, she cared for him too much.

But she wasn’t about to let it go to waste.

“You said you were looking up a ‘gift’ for me. What was it?” She had a good idea what it was, but wanted to hear him confirm it.

He pursed his lips. “Well, a while ago I looked up stuff online. You know, turns out I’m not the only guy who fantasizes about this stuff. There’s a shit load of guys who do, an entire community. I thought it was crazy. They’re called, ahh… cucks. ‘Cuckold’ is the proper term.”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve heard of that.” Thanks to her books.

“Yeah. That’s the internet for you. You’ll find whole communities for the weirdest stuff, although on the whole, this one seems kinda innocent compared to some of the rest.” He chuckled. He was far more relaxed now that everything was in the open. He didn’t have anything to hide anymore, and neither did she. She realized that his tail was wagging.

“Anyway, what was it you were looking at?” she asked, eager to get an answer to her question.

“Oh yeah. So a few guys linked some websites on a forum where guys with cuck fetishes talk about this stuff. I kinda visited one to see what everything was about.”

“Were you looking at guys?”

“Yeah.”

She giggled. “That’s kinda gay.”

He laughed. “It is,, isn’t it? I just wanted to indulge myself a little. It was a place where guys advertise themselves for sex, kinda like Craigslist, but all the way horny.”

“Well, did you pick one?”

He grew somber. “No. I was actually hoping that one day you would pick one yourself.”

“Oh.” She thought to herself for a moment and rolled onto her back. She looked up at the blank slate of the ceiling. “You’d be OK with me doing that?” she asked, not looking at him. She was picturing herself getting fucked by the stallion, but it wasn’t having the same arousing effect anymore.

“Yeah, now that we talked about it.” He looked up at the ceiling with her, as if there were something important up there. He rolled onto his back too. “Would you be up for that kinda thing?”

“I don’t know. It sounds hot. It makes me horny thinking about it, but it’s a crazy thing to do.”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “It really is.”

“And you said other couples do it?”

“Yeah, a lot more than you think, or at least a lot more than I had thought. They all say they love it, but I don’t think any of the ones who regretted it said anything. That’s the only thing I’m worried about, is us doing it and realizing we made a mistake.”

“Yeah, me too.” She pictured the jealousy tearing them apart. What was that movie with Woody Harrelson? Indecent Proposal. It made her think of that. “I guess if we do do it we have to be 100 percent sure that it won’t ruin things.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He looked over at her. “I guess the question is, if you had sex with another guy, you wouldn’t leave me for him, would you?”

She looked at him with a scowl. “Of course I wouldn’t. You know that.”

“I do, I do. I just wanted to hear you say it.”

“And if you let me have sex with another man, you wouldn’t let jealousy get the better of you and get mad?”

He shook his head earnestly. “Of course not. That wouldn’t be fair.”

“It would be fair. It would be perfectly normal.” She looked back up at the ceiling. “So, do you really want to do this?”

He took her paw. “Only if you do.”

“Yeah, I think I do.”

He snuggled up to her and kissed her cheek. “It’s all up to you. We can do it, or we can forget about it. I don’t mind either way.” That’s what he said, but the huggy-wuggy kissy-wissy way he said it while smooching her made her think he did mind.

Not that it mattered. Her answer was what he was hoping for. “Yeah, I think I do.” She looked at him. “Let’s do it.”

His bushy mustache curled with his smile. “Awesome. I love you.”

“I love you too.” She kissed him on his lips, delving in the tickle of his furry lip. “Mmm, what was the website you were looking up men on? What was the name?”

He chuckled, embarrassed. “Ahh, just a place called Horsed.com.”

“Horsed.com?”

“Yeah. It’s a place where you can look up local stallions who will have sex with you. A lot of the guys on that forum recommended it. I was wondering what you would think about doing it with one of them.”

“That would be great!” she blurted. “I mean… That sounds like a good place to start.”

“Awesome! Um, this might be jumping the gun, but do you wanna maybe browse the place tomorrow? See our options?”

“Yes!” she said with perhaps too much enthusiasm. 

“Haha! OK! I’m glad you’re so excited about it!”

She blushed and smiled awkwardly. “Sorry.”

He kissed her. “Don’t be. Now, I believe we were up to something earlier.” His paw slithered to her panties. He teased his claws into her waist band.

She murred and scratched the tuft of fur between his pecs. “Yes, I believe we were~” They kissed each other, bringing their bodies close and interweaving their bodily heat. Suddenly, he started laughing. “What’s funny?” she asked, incredulous.

“Are you gonna think of another guy while we do it?”

She giggled. Under any other circumstance, such a question would’ve been an insult. “I might.”

He grinned. “Good.”