Glenn strolled down the sidewalk on his way home from the bus stop. his head was high in the clouds. Glenn's gaze was towards his feet, as he watched himself take step after step. The cub's shoe connected with a rock, sending it rocketing off the sidewalk into the grass. He stepped over dried worms, still transfixed on the path in front of him. 
        His anxious thoughts swam rapidly in his head. He just couldn't believe the family pet cat would run away like that. Glenn was old enough to know that his cat was probably not coming back, but a part of him still had hope left that he would see the cherished feral feline again. 
He pictured the cuddly creature in his mind. Glenn's cat was a long-furred, gentle creature of larger stature than the average cat. He stood elegantly and proudly and waved his long, fluffy tail around when he was excited. The cat stood equal to Glenn's knees when he was at full attention, his deep blue eyes and chocolate brown fur an exotic sight. The cat was a good friend to Glenn and he missed him dearly. His own canine ears flattened to his head as she remembered how much he missed his pet. There was no doubt the tragedy of losing the cat had affected him deeply. 
         "Hey, aren't you Glenn? Remember me?" 
        Glenn whipped around, searching for the source of the voice. A tall, grinning wolf man stood behind him, holding up one of the posters he had hung up days ago. 
        “Yeah! Hi, Mr. Rochester.” He pronounced the wolf’s last name as Rock-chester. 
        “You’ve been looking for your cat, haven’t you?”   
        "Yeah, why?" His eyes widened in curiosity. Maybe the man had found his cat?
        "I found a stray feral today and I think he might be yours!" The wolf said enthusiastically,      "He looks just like the picture." 
        "Really!? I can't believe it! Thank you Mr. R!" Glenn jumped up and down excitedly. 
        "Don't thank me yet, kid, you'll have to come inside and see if he's yours." The wolf smiled warmly. 
        "Okay!" Glenn hurriedly followed the wolf as he lead him to a medium sized black car.    "Where are you going?" 
        "Oh yeah, my house is a little bit farther away. I'm home on this street to pick up my mail."  The wolf gestured to the post office on the other side of the road. 
        "Oh, alright." Glenn knew that she wasn't supposed to get in the car with adults he didn’t know very well, but he figured this guy was okay because he was his old teacher, and had him cat at his house! Untrustworthy furs wouldn't help return cats to their owners, right? 
The wolf opened the door for him to climb in the passenger seat. 
        "Wow, my mom never lets me ride up front!" Glenn exclaimed. "Thank you Mr. R!" 
        "Well don't tell her then," the wolf winked as he hopped into his seat and started the car. "It'll be our secret." Glenn gasped and giggled. 
        The wolf pulled out of where he was parked and started down the road. He had only been driving for about five minutes before Glenn fell asleep. Perfect, he thought. Now he won't realize how far we've gone. 
        When the wolf glanced over at the pup's sleeping face he felt a twinge of guilt over what he was about to do, but quickly crushed the feeling with his anticipation of what was to come. The excitement and pleasure he would get out of this far outweighed any moral qualms he had with the actions he was taking. It wasn't like he was going to kill him. That would definitely be going too far. 
        Mr. Rochester had always considered himself a pacifist. In the end, he thought, it still counts if he doesn’t get hurt. He was gentle.
        The wolf sped up so that he would get to his destination before Glenn woke up. She seemed to be sleeping soundly, but cubs were unpredictable. They could be dead to the world one minute and bouncing off the walls the next. Everything about them was so full of energy, not yet aware of the drudgery of adult life. 
        After nearly an hour of driving the wolf pulled into his own garage. He couldn't park outside, nobody could see that he was bringing home some random cub. After shutting the garage door nice and securely, he opened the passenger side and scooped Glenn out of the car. The less details he saw of his surroundings, the better. 
        The wolf pushed open the door leading inside and placed Glenn gently on his couch. 
Glenn appeared to be around eight, a little bit chubby, with rounded, Harry Potter-esque glasses. Glenn looked like a typical nerd in a hopelessly endearing way. Sylvain almost started feeling guilty again, but stopped himself, repeating to his conscience that it would all be worth it. 
The wolf slipped the card into a drawer and sat next to Glenn on this couch. He tapped him on the shoulder. He didn't budge, so he placed him on his lap and shook him very gently. His eyes blinked open, appearing confused before he recognized him. 
        "Hey, good morning!" Sylvain joked. "You fell asleep on the way home so I brought you inside." 
        "I did?" He asked, "How long was I sleepin'?" 
         "Only about ten minutes," Sylvain lied. 
        "Oh." He answered. Glenn noticed that he was on the wolf's lap. He didn't quite feel comfortable being this close to him, but she didn't complain. Glenn worried that he might not get his cat back if he said anything against what the wolf man was doing. His fur was very warm and soft so it wasn't so bad, anyway. Sitting on his lap reminded him of sitting on Santa Claws' lap and asking for presents. 
        “Mister?” Glenn questioned, “I’m hungry, can I have something to eat? And where's my cat?”
        “Sure,” Sylvain nodded, avoiding the cat question. “Do you like hot dogs?”
        “I guess that’s alright.” 
        “Good. I’ll get some on the stove.” Sylvain moved the cub off of his lap and stood up. He placed a pan on the stove and filled it with water, setting it to the proper heat for boiling hotdogs. 
        “Uh, Mr. Rochester, do you have mustard? I don’t like ketchup on my wieners. I only like mustard.” Glenn asked nervously. 
        “You can have mustard on your weiner,” Sylvain confirmed, smiling slightly at the dirty thoughts that came to his mind at the word “weiner”. It was childish slang, but it still led his mind in that direction. 
        “Hey, watch the stove while I run to the bathroom, will ya? Just yell if it starts boiling over.” Sylvain requested.
        “Sure!” Glenn smiled.
        Sylvain quickly walked to his bathroom. Like every other suburban adult’s restroom, It was decorated with an alarmingly unoriginal ocean theme. The walls were painted a light seafoam green, and photographs of the Rochesters were placed haphazardly among a couple of shelves containing every type of soap known to furkind. Children’s bubble bath, watermelon scented, and a woman’s fruity feather shampoo. Sylvain, like every other suburban man in his 30’s, had some vaguely scented, oddly named, 3-in-1. The bathroom reminded him of everything boring about his life. 
        The photos, taken at the beach themselves, were of an average looking family. Sylvain Rochester, his wife Robin Rochester (an aptly named songbird) and their two children.
Nothing about the photos suggested that Sylvain could, or would be, a cubophile. He had never once touched his children in a way that could be considered provocative, and, to his wife, kept the illusion of being a faithful partner.
        In reality, Syl had cheated on his wife with a man, and now a boy.
In reality, Sylvain Rochester was slowly being driven insane by his average little life in an average little town with an average little family. He never wanted to hurt his family; or anyone for that matter, but he feared that he had made the wrong decision when he chose to marry Robin and settle down. He did not regret becoming a teacher, although the adorable cubs in his class tempted him to no end. 
        Sylvain could control himself if he pleased, but he was not inclined to pass up the chance to molest a cub, especially a pre-pubescent, delightful little boy such as Glenn. 
Again, he wound up thinking in circles. If it’s really wrong, why does it feel so good? Surely anything that feels so amazing must be natural, he thought. Just like masturbation, or eating meat. Some people objected to these actions, but both had been proven to be natural, healthy even, in moderate doses. 
        Maybe society is just not ready to accept something so taboo, he concluded. 
Sylvain finished using the restroom and stuck his paws in the sink. As he washed and dried them, an erection began to form in his pants. His body refused to hold his excitement back any longer, and his cock began to form a tent underneath his trousers. The erection soon became painful, so Sylvain undid his pants and let them slide to the floor. His cock sprung up, fully hard. He removed his underwear next, allowing his penis to fully experience freedom. Lastly, he removed his shirt; there was no reason to keep it on at this point. Sylvain swung open the door,  completely in the nude.
        “Mr. Rochester! It’s boiling!” Glenn squeaked. He abruptly turned around, nearly running into Syl’s exposed cock.
        “Oh!” He squealed, blushing slightly. “It’s huge!”
        Sylvain’s eyes widened. That was not the reaction he was expecting to get. 
        He patted the boy on the head, and reached to turn off the stove. The hotdogs looked about done anyway. But first, he needed something else from Glenn. 
        “Sweetheart, do you know what a penis is?”
        Glenn rolled his eyes. “Duh. You pee out of it.” 
        “Correct. Anything else?” Sylvain asked.
        “Um… you put it inside people… to make them have cubs.”
        “Right, you’re so smart!” Sylvain grinned. 
        Glenn smiled. He loved it when adults called him smart. Glenn loved books, especially nonfiction ones. He had once read the seventh grade science textbook from cover to cover. It seemed to have paid off. The science textbook contained a description of sexual anatomy. Glenn knew a lot for his age but was simultaneously a very ignorant child. While he knew how cubs were made, he didn’t know that some people mated just to have a good time. He didn’t know it was called “sex” or “fucking”. He didn’t even know that boys could mate with boys and girls could mate with girls. It had simply never occurred to him.
        “When I put my di-, I mean penis, inside people, I can make them feel good,” Sylvain continued. Ironically, he did not want to teach Glenn the more vulgar synonyms for penis. It would be suspicious if a child came home knowing those words after visiting a near-stranger. 
        “Wow, really? What does it feel like?” 
         “I can’t quite explain it well,” Sylvain answered. “Do you want to try it?” 
         Glenn was surprised; to him, teachers were the sort of person who knew everything, including how to explain a difficult subject. But if Mr. Rochester wanted to show him, he thought, he should pay attention. He nodded. 
         Syl knelt down and slowly began pulling off Glenn’s shorts. The small canine wagged his tail nervously as the adult touched his waist sensually. The shorts slipped down over Glenn’s knees and fell to the floor. 
        Syl let out a small gasp when the cub’s groin was exposed. In place of a tiny cub cock like Syl had expected, a fully formed cub pussy was nestled in between Glenn’s legs.
        “Oh no, Mr. Rochester… I know I’m not like the other boys… Mom says I was born like this.” Glenn squinted in embarrassment of his genitals. 
        “It’s quite alright, kid,” Sylvain answered. He was a bit shocked, but the surprise did not dampen his enthusiasm in the slightest. In fact; he was probably even more excited. The chance of the cub he brought home being intersex was… one in how many? He wasn’t sure, but he felt as if God was in favor of what he was about to do. Something that rare must have come with approval from above.
        Sylvain slipped his long canine tongue out and swiped over Glenn’s pussy. The taste of a young cub was heavenly to him. Pure and clean, a light taste that could not quite be described in words. He darted his tongue in between the lips of Glen’s cunt, tasting him again.
Glen let out a tiny sound of surprise. He had never felt something like that before. The wet sensation gave him the shivers. Syl slipped his tongue in again, grazing Glen’s tiny clit, and making the cub whimper. He lapped at the cub’s pussy again and again, lubing it with his saliva. He stopped momentarily and sat on the floor, reclining against his couch. He motioned to Glenn to come closer, posing the cub so that his tiny pussy was centimeters from Syl’s nose. He inhaled the cub’s scent. 
        Syl began slurping at the cub’s pussy again; this time, driving his tongue deeper into Glenn’s tight hole. Glenn whimpered and moaned as Syl plunged his tongue deep inside of him. He had no idea why what Mr. R was doing felt so good, but he never wanted it to stop. His pussy grew sopping wet as Sylvain tongue-fucked him. Glenn began involuntarily humping towards the wolf’s face, his little pussy grinding on Syl’s lapping tongue. Syl swirled his tongue all around the cub’s labia, tasting every last bit of that delicious cub pussy. He focused on the cub’s clit, tenderly working his tongue over it several times.
        Glenn’s pleasure grew and grew. He felt a sensation akin to pressure building in his belly. He humped faster, his vaginal walls contracting, as Syl pushed his long tongue deep inside the cub one last time. Glenn’s legs shook as he began his first ever orgasm. He panted, the wave of pressure inside him crashing down, filling him with a radiant feeling of pure pleasure.
Syl’s cock throbbed as he watched the 8-year-old orgasm. Nothing else could possibly arouse him more than a cub cumming for the first time in their lives. He loved seeing them experience pure bliss, bestowed upon them by yours truly. 
         As soon as Glenn finished, Sylvain picked up the cub and turned him so he was resting on the arm of the couch, his pussy facing outwards from the middle of the couch. He was propped up perfectly so that Syl could easily fuck him into next year. He would try his best not to hurt the cub, but he was so pent up full of lust. 
Syl lined his bright green, canine cock up with Glen’s thoroughly wet cub hole. Glenn, unable to speak, whimpered with need as the adult slowly pushed the head of his cock into the cub’s swollen cunt. The boy’s pussy slowly stretched to accommodate the adult fur’s throbbing dick. Syl was glad that the boy seemed to be adjusting nicely; it was too bad that this was probably the first and last time that he would be able to fuck this particular cub. He’d worked hard to make sure this worked out. 
         No matter. He would make sure to enjoy it now. 
         Suddenly, his cock slipped further inside, as Glenn’s tight walls gave way to let the wolf’s cock inside. Syl grunted with pleasure as his cock fit snugly into the cub’s cunt. He pushed even farther, until he was nearly balls deep in the cub. 
        Glenn squealed in pain and pleasure as he struggled to take Mr. R’s entire cock inside of him. The tip nearly reached his tiny womb, poking at the entrance, begging to spill seed deep inside of the underage cub. Sylvain had not considered whether the cub could get pregnant; as he had not anticipated fucking a tiny pussy that day. It was too late for that anyway. 
        Syl began thrusting into the boy, pushing his cock in and out of Glenn’s pussy. He quickened his pace to the tune of Glenn’s high-pitched, desperate cub moans. He was delighted that the cub seemed to be enjoying it nearly as much as he was. Syl’s large, fertile balls slapped against the cubs thighs, helping to fill the room with a cacophony of sex sounds. His cock churned Glenn’s insides, creating a delicious, wet slurping noise. 
         Syl thrusted faster and faster, deeper and deeper into the cub. His tongue hung out as he panted in bliss. God, he loved fucking cubs. He loved having his cock in a cub so much more than he liked fucking his wife. He’d trade his wife for a tight cub ass or pussy to fuck any day. On more than one occasion he thought about committing incest with one of his children. He had eventually decided against it because he was sure that Robin would find out. Robin noticed almost everything around the house. 
         Syl humped the cub harder, driving his cock as deep as it could go. He pounded Glenn into the couch, surprised that the cub hadn’t once complained, and instead seemed to be enjoying himself greatly. 
          What a slut, Sylvain thought. What a little slut. 
          Sylvain was not a sadist. It aroused him much more when the cub enjoyed himself too. 
With one final, deep thrust, he poured his cum into Glenn’s pussy. The cub orgasmed for a second time nearly at the same moment, his pussy contracting, draining Syl’s balls. Glenn collapsed and Sylvain’s cock slid out of him, hot white cum dripping out and landing on the couch. The couple panted side by side for a minute, each regaining the ability to speak slowly. 
         “M-Mr. Rochester… that felt… so amazing…” Glenn muttered. 
         Syl licked the excess cum off of Glenn’s slit, and grinned. “I’m glad you liked it. You’re a good boy.” 
         “Can we do it again sometime, Mr. R? Please?” 
         “Of course,” Sylvain patted the cub’s head.

         He’d find a way. 

[TO BE CONTINUED]