Scott sighs, and pokes at his salad. He looks up again, at the busy street, and across at the park beyond - no sign. He pushes his neatly-coiffed hair back reflexively, and checks his watch, and finally takes another bite, chewing with a frown. "Of course she's late." How could things be going so poorly after only a year? --- Nicole gasps, clawing at the bedspread. "Unnnngh," she manages. "Scunnnngh." She gawks dumbly, in the mirror, at the lithe young fox chowing down on her womanhood. Her arms lock tightly over her chest, squeezing her pert, shallow bosom, her abdomen shuddering and twitching in delight. She'd always had her doubts about her husband's bisexuality, but he's in rare form today. Her housecoat lies discarded on the ground, the early-afternoon light creeping coolly towards it. --- He scowls a while longer, at nothing in particular, and finally shoves the plate away across the surface of the wire tabletop. He folds his arms a while, shivering as he manages to brush against his own pierced nipples, biting his lip, waiting for the sensation to pass. But it feels nice, he thinks. It reminds him of things, things he misses about his old life. His gorgeous blue eyes stare into the distance so long he doesn't notice the check arriving. --- The petite vixen shrieks, screams and writhes, biting her arm, staring up in lustful awe at her husband's piercing green eyes, his face dripping with her juices, his sleek body railing her sopping cuntfolds near to death. She feels his tail wind around her thigh, and wonders when he learned to do that, but only for a moment before his left hand curls around her throat, bare fingers stroking the fur posessively. "I want you," he growls, and she can only believe him. --- He sighs, striding across the park casually, the sun beginning to descend across the treeline. He meanders a little, taking some of the more memorable detours on the walking path. His dick squirms in his pantleg, PA ring showing blatantly through the tight black denim, as he passes a particular stand of bushes. His tail hikes reflexively, as he spots a used condom laying out in the open, alone. Given how tidy everything else is, it couldn't have been there long. He hurries onward. --- Nicole groans, pawing faintly at her swollen, knotwrecked folds, dripping her lover's thick, ropy semen. She looks at the fox in the mirror, watches him pose, and flex, admiring himself and his wet, hard dick. "Who are you, and what have you done with my husband?" "Nothing, yet." Nic's heart skips a beat. She'd been kidding. Her gut churns, vulva clenching unsteadily, adrenalin pouring into her bloodstream as her husband's skin begins to turn purple, in spreading blotches, almost like the rippling of his muscles was splitting the old hide off, molting it away. She gasps when he reaches out to tug the ring off her finger, setting it on the nightstand, instead. He sits beside her, his strong, broad hand loosely stroking her whole right breast, thumb toying with the nipple. "Are you sure you want to know?" She looks up at him, warily, but she doesn't pull away. And, after a moment, she reaches out, touching his vuntslick cock, her abdomen shivering as she appreciates his how much it's grown in the last thirty seconds - uncut thing easily overspilling her clutching fingertips. Eighteen inches, and too wide to close a hand around. She begins to tug at it, sheepishly, and nods, answering breathily, "Yeah." --- Scott sighs. His buzzing, thumping erection fits poorly down his pant-leg, his whole groin ablaze from tail to navel. He just wanted to remind Nicole of the man she married, the navel-stroking nine-inch pansexual jizzbomb she so upset her parents by marrying. But now he's all keyed up, with nobody to tease, and that lovely nine-inch trouser-snake is drawing far too much attention. He ducks into an old favorite bar, to see if he can't make things manageable. --- The stranger smiles reassuringly down at her, his eartips brushing the ceiling as he works. The runes and markings across her hastily-shaven belly seem so tacky, the way elegant penmanship in sharpie always does. But the violet behemoth kisses her between her eyes, and her skin begins to crawl. He lets her stare at it a while, watch the shaven fur regrow over the faint ripples of new muscle, before he's rushing her beneath him again, his elephantine erection guided skillfully in. His sultry, full-lipped muzzle drinks the fucksqueal from her lips. --- Scott pants, turning on the faucet. One cheap beer later, with no easy piece in sight, the horny todd is forced to take matters into his own hands. He rinses the last of that down the drain, and splashes clean water over his flushed face. "Too much of this, lately," he consoles himself. "That was the whole point of today." --- The sun should set right through that picture window, but she's drawn the shade, dark-colored light painting her in a thousand racy shadows. Nicole grips the edge of the bed tightly, arms rippling with muscle, dripping with sweat, standing up, tail raised. The stranger's arms clutch the edge of the bed, too, just outside of hers. The red toothmarks in his massive forearm attest to the vigorous struggle, but they've finally won, together, and his arm-sized, gutbulging mega-toddcock can rampage freely up and down her belly. Her loose-hanging labia suck and slurp at him dumbly, her toned belly sagging with the volume of high-pressure nutslop that's been laid up her pulsing cooze. Her doughy vixenbutt takes to his aggression gorgeously, her heathen fucksocket twat sucking up and down his veiny shaft obediently. His spaded tail slides up her trembling inner thighs, and he stands, pulling her up, with him. He's steady enough for them both, one arm looping under her head-sized tits, milk dribbling from her bloated, beestung teats, as his other hand slides down her lap. His fingers spread in a V over her mons pubis, and the tip of his tail begins to push up the length of her clit, from base to tip. --- Scott sighs, fumbling with his eyes, squirming uncomfortably with his sticky dick in his pants. His nostrils flickflicker, and he smiles a little. Maybe there's still time to salvage the day, hm? As soon as he gets his key in the bolt, it jerks out of his hand, door swinging open. The porchlight illuminates her, as she blocks most of the doorway. She's got her housecoat on, but it barely fits over her shoulders at all, and it doesn't cover an inch of her tits. They look bolted-on, the twin spheres squeezing together to pass the doorway as she bends forward to greet him, pecking him softly on the cheek, nearly enveloping his muzzle in her cumstreaked cleavage. The robe doesn't do much good past her navel, either, letting her show off that curly, dense pubic thicket she just got done regrowing. Forest though it is, it's a mere adornment for what hangs below: Her juicy-fat thighs squeeze her huge, sagging, oblong nuts forward, and the tapering virgin ladyprick laying in front of them squirms a little, dribbling hot hole-grease over her thighs. She smiles, looking left, then right, making sure the neighbors didn't see her like this, backing through the door again, letting the Stranger say hello. Scott's heart sinks into his shoes as he sees who it is, but it's far, far too late. "Hello, Maestro." He surrenders his ring to the stranger, unasked, and sheepishly crosses the threshhold, squeezing between the two titanic foxdicks on his way inside. The Maestro's spaded tail slaps the door shut, and throws the bolt. The porch-light goes out a few moments after.