The sun's nearly down, now; that's how they first see him coming.  Emerging from the sunset in his ancient rustbucket truck.

Bobby sees it first, pulling the water-drenched t-shirt off his forehead, brushing his short blond hair and long rabbit ears back, squinting at the horizon.  Hastily, Shannon grabs the sides of her open shirt, and ties it off under the cushy-pert swells of her vulpine birthright.  Then she takes a second look, adjusting the girls to sit up front and center, admiring the way her stiff nipples have suddenly come to the fore.  Bobby's heart squirms as he watches her, his expression turning from puzzled to sour.

"Shannon, tell me you're not..."  He bites his lip, too embarassed to finish.

She grins her crooked little grin, as the hapless herbivore wanders right under her thumb.  "Tell you I'm not what?"  She winks, and lets her grin widen just a little.  "It's just a little flirt.  Everybody wins.

He frowns, arms folded over his slender chest.  His erection betrays his frown, healthy young buck-dick pulsing beautifully, tenting up the front of his breezy little gym shorts.  "I don't like it."

Shannon just laughs.  "Of course you don't.  It makes you mad."  She opens the passenger door, watching the tow-truck crest the last rise before them.  She clambers out of the car, stretching her fine, strong cheerleader limbs, and then closes the door, sitting on the open window frame, elbows back on the roof.  Her swaying, swishing tail reaches out the back of her shortish denim skirt, and floofs back and forth over Bobby's muzzle.  "And I like how you fuck me when you're mad."

Silently, she pretends not to be watching over her shoulder, as the beastly old truck pulls off the road.  The vehicle's old enough to be her father, and the suspension looks to be completely worn out.  And just as she hops down, bare feet touching the warm dust of the shoulder, the door swings open, and she can barely contain her shock.

The figure that emerges hardly even seems mortal.  He must be a ton and a half of richly-marbled muscle, an eight-foot wall of manflesh, massive barrel chest and matronly thighs and bulging beer-gut.  His sleek, short, silver-white fur stands out gorgeously under the clutch of his overalls.  And the denim creaks lazily against its seams, as he settles on his broad hooves, and stares down the tableau before him - waifish bunny and waifish fox and waifish broken-down car - and casually scratches the swell showing down the front of his overalls, the unthinkably long, fat, must-be-a-prank flared equine dick-bulge, just enough to make it twitch.

Bobby catches himself gawking, and stares down into his lap, flushed beet-red, willing his erection away fruitlessly.  Shannon shivers as she finally finishes turning around, her nipples suddenly swollen and tender.  She looks up him, slowly, hips squirming involuntarily as she transitions from his cushy thighs, to his plush belly, to the massive flagstone slabs of his pecs, sultry pouty teats capping those, and up into his thick-muzzled face, finally.  Over his blunted features, his thick muzzle and strong chin, and the mighty, curving horns emerging from his brow, sitting like a crown on his head.

She has to stand up straight, catching herself grinding her sweet little beestung juggs on the top edge of the window.  Inwardly, she steels herself, refusing to lose the game she's set herself up to play.  "H-hell-"

"Car trouble?"  His bassy voice swallows hers, a catfish eating a mosquito.  He strides around to the front of the car, and when he reaches for the hood, Bobby fumbles after the hood release, but it's too late; with one monstrous flex of his watermelon biceps, the strange creature forces and breaks the hood-latch, peering down into the engine compartment like the entrals of a ritual sacrifice.  "Hmmm."

Shannon rests her hands on the fender.  The hood blocks Bobby's vision, but he can see the strange giant turn his head, smiling ruefully at the young lady, and most certainly at the way she's got her tits between her biceps, squeezing them forward.  He can see her toes as she picks one foot up, tail cheerily a-swish, leaning forward the open engine, and the stranger's lap.

And then the whole car tilts, as this monster leans forward, reaching into the engine compartment, and yanks something - something with lots of loose cables and plugs - loose.  "... Yeah.  Here's y'problem."  He hands the piece to Shannon, then spreads his massive hand over her chest, covering her ribcage entirely as he pushes her out of the way of the hood before he drops it.  Then he sharply plucks the part back out of her hands, dangling it like a fly, letting Shannon tuck her heaving tits back into her top with grease-smudged fingers.  "This raight here's no good.  I gotta spare though.  Back at th' shop."  He thumbs toward the last sliver of falling sun.  "It's only half an hour - we'll be right back."

Bobby stammers out an objection against the stranger's sidelong grin.  "W-wait, we who?  We'll just-"

The giant puckers his full, moist lips, and cuts Bobby off with a shrill whistle.  The truck's suspension finally stands upright as its second passenger disembarks.  What must be another ton of sweaty muscle clambers off the bench seat, his silky black fur muted against the deeply dusky sky.  Shining golden eyes roam the car, gargantuan mutt-hound loping around it once, taking its measure.  He puts his massive forepaws on the open passenger window, snuffling loudly about the windowframe.  Bobby scarcely breathes, his pupils pinprick-narrow as he watches this colossus move around.

"Wolves 'roun' here, this time o' night.  Wouldn't leave your lady out here for 'em, with or without Jody here t'watch."  Jody pants thickly, staring intently at Bobby with those massive, golden eyes.  Bobby stares back, button nose twitching instinctively.  The giant laughs raucously, smacking the roof of the car.  "Oh c'mon, now, he's just watchin' ya.  He don' bite.  I promise."

"M'name's Aw-ree-mawn, by and by."  He's helping Shannon up into his truck, though he could just as easily pick her up and throw her in, by all appearances.  "Ari for short.  We'll be up the shop 'n' back before an hour, I should think."

And without much else, the truck sinks back down on its spring-steel haunches, and its door slams shut, and they've wheeled about on the shoulder and disappear in the distance, the moon rising in the purple sky behind them.

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