“Mmmh,” Lyrah murmured softly.  “It’s getting really hot.”
“Good,” Drenan rumbled.  “There’s no need to rush things.  Let’s take it nice and slow.”
“Okay… but you’ve already stuffed it to the brim,” she insisted.
“It’ll be fine,” he assured her.  “Let me just… push it in nice and slow.”  The silver thermometer sunk nicely into the cooking turkey.  “Good temperature.  It should be done in about an hour.  Just in time.”
Lyrah smiled brightly and gave her father a gentle hug.  “Awesome.  I don’t know if I could’ve finished all of this on my own.  It’s a lot to handle.”  Their normally tidy kitchen was indeed quite a mess this Pilgrim’s Bounty.  As a child, Lyrah had always taken joy in helping her father cook the feast for this day, though there only ever were her, himself, and Shele.  This year she’d invited along a friend who lived too far from her family to attend, and Lyrah wanted to make absolutely certain it was perfect for the newcomer.
Drenan smiled back.  “I bet you could’ve, but I’m more than happy to help my little girl,” he rumbled and softly kissed her forehead.  “It’s a lot to manage as just one person, and you’ve always seemed to find my assistance satisfactory.”
The shaman giggled softly as she turned her back to him to attend to the cranberry chutney.  Her tail swished happily as she worked, and it was clear she was enjoying her apron-only outfit in the piping hot kitchen.  Two windows had been opened, but the day wasn’t nearly cold enough to compensate.  “Well, you seem to know what you’re doing, and a good pair of strong hands go a long way… daddy,” she teased and looked part of the way over her shoulder at him with a coy smile.
The elder tauren sidled up next to her yet again to continue his own task.  “I’m glad you think so.  I’m always willing to help out, particularly when it comes to your pie,” he remarked and looked down at the empty pie crust before him.  “I’d venture to say that my filling is some of the best in Azeroth, no?”
Lyrah sized her father up and down -he’d taken off his own shirt in favor of an undersized, but usable, apron- and smiled.  “I think you might have something there.  Gonna fill my li’l pie, hmm?”
Drenan gave the bowl of pumpkin filling another few stirs before he began to pour it into the pie.  “I believe you requested me specifically for that.  It’s my fatherly duty to make certain your pie is properly filled to the brim with warm, creamy filling.”
Lyrah swallowed hard and forced herself to continue on the chutney.  “M-maybe later.”
“Maybe.  I mean, I’m certain your bird was thoroughly-stuffed before it went in, no?  Perhaps I should try to fit just a little bit more inside.  Do you think it’d go in?”  Drenan grinned deviously.  He knew exactly what he was doing, and so did she.
“I dunno, daddy,” she said softly, purposefully calling him by her more affectionate term for him.  “You might make it split open if you force it too much.  Just… be gentle.”
It was Drenan’s turn to sweat a little bit as he returned to the turkey once more, and with a steady hand he spooned one last bit of spiced bread stuffing into the turkey.  The browned bird bulged its bulbous belly, but it held nonetheless.  “There.  That should do it.”
Lyrah stirred the chutney even faster, but she had to stop herself when she’d realized she’d stained her apron red from overspill.  She swore under her breath and quickly untied the apron.  “I think everything should be nearly ready, right?”
Drenan sized up the feast laid out before them from sweet potatoes to the divine-looking cornucopia spread across the countertops.  “The turkey should be the last thing, and everything else should stay warm, yes.”
“Sweet,” she added cheerfully and boldly pulled off her apron, leaving her buck naked in the kitchen.  “Could you put this with the dirty clothes, daddy?  I should really get ready before anyone happens to find me like this.”  She tossed the apron his way casually before trotting toward the stairs, her bare bottom giving off the slightest bounce with each step.
“Of course, sweetheart,” he returned, though it took a moment for him to register the apron as it fell against his chest and onto his arm.  “I truly am thankful for her,” he murmured under his breath as he walked to a closet near the back door and dropped the apron into a basket inside it.  No sooner had he returned to the kitchen, however, a gentle knock came at the front door.  “Coming!” he called, and without thinking he flicked the lock and swung it open to see none other than Talla Whitefeather.
Talla greeted Drenan with a somewhat shy smile, though half of it absently dropped away as she looked his aproned form up and down.  “Happy Pilgrim’s Bounty, Mr. Lighthand.  Thank you so much for letting me come,” she offered and held up a tray with two long loaves on it.  “I brought rolls!  They might be kinda soft, but I’m sure they’re tasty.”
Drenan accepted them delicately.  “Thank you.  You certainly didn’t have to bring anything, but we appreciate it very much.  Come in, please.  Lyrah’s upstairs tending to herself.”
The huntress stepped inside the warm home as a tinge of color darted across her cheeks.  “Thank you, sir.”  Drenan had often allowed his daughter some semblance of privacy with her friends, so as old habit would have he retired to the kitchen once more despite Lyrah’s absence.  Talla stood somewhat awkwardly in the cushioned living room for several moments, but she already had her mind set that she’d like to see Lyrah.  Boldly she headed up the stairs and headed to Lyrah’s open door, but as she peered in she was shocked to find the room nearly empty.  Her bed was still there, but most all of her belongings were gone.  “Huh,” she said to herself, and with a more cautious gait she tiptoed over to Drenan’s open door to peek inside.
In her haste, Lyrah had left the door wide open, and her back was to it as she rummaged through her private dresser and pulled out a magnificently-tailored, brown-and-gold dress.  She was still completely nude until she pulled the dress up over her head and wiggled her hips from side to side to get it to fall properly over her body.  Talla’s cheeks flooded with color as Lyrah’s naked body went out of sight, but in her shock she found herself unable to flee as Lyrah turned around and flinched to see her friend peeking through her father’s doorway.  “Oh, hey Talla!  Happy Pilgrim’s Bounty!” she greeted cheerfully.
“H-hey!” Talla returned and stepped into full view.  Lyrah happily walked over and wrapped her friend in a warm bear hug.  The huntress eagerly returned it.  “S-same!  How’ve you been?”
“Good!” she assured her friend as she pulled back.  “Dinner shouldn’t be long, and neither should Shele, hopefully.”
As if on cue, another soft knock came at the door.  Drenan yet again answered, though he had shed his apron due to the rising heat in the kitchen.  The door swung open to reveal a golden-robed Shele with a pan of greens in her hands.  “Happy Pilgrim’s Bounty, Drenan.  You look… well,” she offered with a slight smile, looking him up and down slowly.  “I hope I haven’t intruded on anything uncouth this time,” she added with a slight giggle.
Drenan’s cheeks reddened as he stepped aside to let her in.  “Not at all.  We have a new guest with us this year, so it’s probably best to keep things… normal,” he said for lack of a better term.
Shele nodded sagely and relinquished her greens.  “But of course, hun.  Is there anything I can do to help?”
At that moment, both of the younger females came trundling downstairs.  Lyrah greeted Shele with a hug herself, while Talla offered her a handshake and a bow.  Before Drenan could answer her question, the trio had made their way back into the living room to sit and chat.  The goblin radio in the living room hummed with noise, but the noise was nigh inaudible above the females’ chatting.  The paladin smiled happily as he put the last few finishing touches on his work, and once satisfied he scooped up his own dress shirt and headed out toward the living room with two of the largest trays to lay upon the center of the floor.  The girls immediately got up to help, and just a minute later the full spread was laid out before the four of them.
“Good food, good meat, good light, let’s eat,” Lyrah piped up first, and without any objection the four hungry tauren tucked into their marvelous feast.  Happy conversation was made between bites, and a good half hour later the food was nearly demolished, leaving just enough for all four to have leftovers for the next couple days.
Conversation continued, though the four of them were now stretched out lazily upon their plump cushions.  Lyrah let out a loud yawn first as she settled in, her gaze drifting toward her father.  “Mmh, thank you so much, dad.  That was amazing.  That was quite the spread.”
“You’re telling me,” he rumbled back, his own belly quite full.  “I’d say you present a fantastic-looking one of your own, however.”
Lyrah cocked a confused eyebrow at this.  “Huh?”  It was then that she realized she’d laid down with her legs spread as much as her dress would allow, though the resulting cave the dress had made was open perfectly within Drenan’s view.
“I think I’ll have that pie now,” he returned boldly, and before she knew it his hands were on her ankles, slowly sliding up her inner thighs and lifting her dress simultaneously.
Lyrah’s eyes shot open wide with panic.  “D-daddy!  We have guests!” she half-cried, half-moaned.  She jerked her head over to Talla and Shele, both of whom were sitting on their knees and quietly watching the events unfold before them.
“The pie is more urgent, sweetheart,” he insisted as his fingertips teasingly ran past her quim to glide up her belly.  “We can’t have a proper pie without cream, and no good bird can go unstuffed.”
The shaman bit her lip in a mixture of nervousness and pleasure.  Everywhere he touched seemed to tingle pleasantly, and soon his hands had planted themselves firmly upon her breasts beneath her dress.  “I… I guess you’re right,” she moaned between gasps.
“Of course I’m right,” he reassured her as his muzzle suddenly pushed against her nether lips.  “A proper bird needs a bit of tenderizing first.  Must be nice and moist,” he rumbled against her soft flesh before his tongue began to lash out at it sharply.  His deft tongue ran up and down amongst her folds, circling her clit at the top and slipping inside of her at the bottom over and over again.  
Lyrah bit back a moan hard, once again glancing over at the stoic females.  Neither one had moved or made a sound.  “Daddy…” she moaned.  “It’s ready… please, fill it up… please…” she begged him.
“So it would seem,” he returned and pulled his muzzle away.  His hands slid back to her hips as he walked forward on his knees.  His leggings were already off of him, and his manhood stood firm and erect as he began to press it into her folds.  “It takes time to cook a good bird, but I think we can expedite this one with some extra hard stuffing,” he cooed just before jerking his hips forward sharply.  
The majority of his tool sunk deep inside her with that single thrust and caused her to moo-oan loudly in pleasure.  “So much…!  Fill me up, daddy!” she cried, and without further motivation the elder tauren gripped his daughter’s thighs and began to pump himself in and out of her with reckless abandon.  Lyrah hadn’t felt such intense, raw pleasure since her enthrallment during Hallow’s End, and while she saw her father as a more tender individual, she couldn’t help but let herself become his bird for the stuffing.  She was practical putty in his hands as he ravished her plump body.
Drenan made few-to-no moans as he took her, though his hulking form leaned far over her as his muzzle pressed to her own.  She could taste herself on his lips as the kiss broke, and in response he licked his own lips and added.  “Tart, like cranberry chutney.  Delicious.”
The shaman reached up to take hold of his horns as he took her.  “Yes, daddy.  I need your cream in my pie, stuff my bird!  Fill me up!” she shrieked in delight… but suddenly she realized something.  Her eyes opened wider amongst the pleasure to look up at her father.  The grip on his horns was firm… but he only had one horn.  There’s no way she should’ve been able to take hold of both, even with the one being half-broken.  “Dad?” she asked curiously.
The tauren grunted thickly.  “Hold on, sweetie… here comes… the… filling…!”
Lyrah gasped sharply, and suddenly her eyes shot open and her upper body jerked upright to sit properly.  Her robes were perfectly in place, and all three of the other tauren were looking at her with concern in their eyes.  Shele spoke up first.  “Sweetie, are you okay?  You look… stressed.”
“Wha…?” Lyrah started to respond, though as she shifted her legs to sit more cross-legged, she realized that her thighs were completely soaked with her own juices.  “Oh… did I fall asleep.”
All three nodded with resounding chuckles, Drenan piping up.  “About a half hour ago, yes.”  He was dressed normally as well.  “You looked like you were having a good dream, if nothing else.”
Her chocolate-furred cheeks flushed darkly.  “I-it was such a good meal that I just had to relive it again I guess,” she offered with an added, nervous chuckle.  “I’m just so thankful for it all, you know?”
All three nodded in agreement, and the after-dinner chat carried on well into the evening.  As darkness was threatening to set in, Drenan and Lyrah said their goodbyes to their friends and sent them on their way, leaving the pair alone in their home once more.  Both sighed happily after such a satisfying day, and as Drenan was about to head into the kitchen to start cleaning, Lyrah took hold of his hand firmly.  “I’ll get it cleaned tomorrow, daddy.  Don’t worry about it tonight.”
Drenan looked at her quizzically.  “Are you certain?”
Lyrah nodded and firmly pulled him toward the stairs.  “It can wait, but I can’t,” she added and sharply pulled up her dress to show him the matted fur on her inner thighs.  “My pie needs filled, daddy. Badly.”
The paladin appeared taken aback at the bold innuendo, but before he could respond he found himself being pulled up the stairs, the both of them chuckling and giggling as they retreated to their shared room and slammed the door shut tight behind them.