Around the same time Maxwell the shepcoon bassist-assassin was riding an elevator up to the top floor of his cousin Darrel's film production firm to conduct a familial drug exchange, Darrel the foxcoon celebrity was busy riding Cassidy the shepherd woman upon his lap. Max had suggested that Cassidy apply to Darrel's office as a secretarial intern, knowing her strength in offering quality services, yet little did he know that she had other ideas up her sleeve. Perhaps if he had known, he'd never have bothered waiting until after the sauna trip to tell her of a potential opening in Darrel's film company internship.

But what good ol' shepcoon doesn't know, simply can't hurt him far too much.

Perhaps...

~

"Fucking stupid elevator, hurry up!" Max growled beneath his breath, pressing an illuminated button repeatedly. He stood in a long rectangular corridor, floors covered in white tiling, walls built of brick and cobblestone. Framed paintings and photographs of Darrel posed in various starring roles from previously produced films lined the main lobby foyer, seeming to glare at Max, to mock him abrasively. The bag of fresh Gelato strain bulged in his rear pocket, sativa buds and thick clumps of raw hashish pressed against his buttock. He wanted to get the exchange over with and leave as soon as possible.

"Killin' the button ain't gonna send it down any quicker, chief." A portly elder security guard said from one corner of the lobby, sitting in a plastic chair reading a battered magazine. He was an elderly feline, perhaps a lion or a cougar. Max couldn't even tell what the magazine was from the damage incurred to its cover over many years. He might've still been a cub when it was published, who knew? The feline security guard caught a glimpse of Max staring at him, a one-eyed German shepherd raccoon hybrid anthropomorphic wearing blue denim jeans, a white collared chambray work shirt and a colorful bright purple bandanna wrapped around his head which sprouted a forest of dirty blonde dreadlocks that were tied into a loose ponytail. "If you're in a hurry, I'd advise takin' the stairs. How far up ya gotta go?"

"Top floor." Max said, rubbing his muzzle nervously. He reached down to fondle at the baggie in his pocket aimlessly, taking mental note of its presence, that he still had drugs on his person in a large corporate building, a professional facility. If there was one thing Max didn't want, it was flat outright embarrassment of being exposed to the public as a drug-dealing menacing family member to Darrel Mendoza. He didn't wish for that mark of shame to be branded upon his foxcoon cousin, despite Maxwell's overwhelming bitter envious jealousy of Darrel.

"Yeah, I'd take the stairs." The feline guard suggested, legs crossed and feet resting upon a nearby plastic milk crate. The receptionist's desk was empty and only the guard and Max stood in the lobby. Max proceeded to open a nearby door which led up a long staircase, when suddenly the elevator doors opened. Max looked back at the security guard and shrugged, smirking a grin from one corner of his lips. The guard nodded and returned back to his magazine. "Have a fine day, sir."

"You do the same, boss." Max said, flashing a wink and a snapping of his finger-paws. He boarded the elevator and saw he wasn't alone. A short beige-furred vixen woman pressed a button - the button he needed - and the doors came to a slow close. Gears shifted and machinery groaned into life and Max felt his stomach slide down into his groin as the elevator took off, rising at a speed practically unheard of. Fucking Darrel! Max felt even more jealous now, how his cousin could afford to implement faster elevators than damn-near any other facility within sight. What a lame reason to feel jealousy over his cousin, but there it was. Max hated Darrel as much as he loved him, all thanks to Darrel's great success in life and Max's terrible misfortunes in his own.

Max broke his concentration and averted his gaze up toward the vixen anthro. She wore her long silver hair in a ponytail. A pair of reading glasses rested snug upon her muzzle as she stood patiently waiting to depart from the elevator. Max curled his brow, wondering if she was apt to party hard. Maybe if he managed to botch the deal, he'd just ask her if she wanted to join him in partaking a little. They'd retire to a nearby janitor's broom closet or a private restroom and toke up some of the hash. Maybe that would lead to rough sex in a stalled elevator? Max considered the possibility and just as quickly rejected it again. He was here on a mission and not even the prettiest secretaries would hope to distract him.

~

"Oh my fucking God, your ass feels soooooooo so good!" Darrel said, gasping and panting as he caressed Cassidy's wrist while she lay upon Darrel's desk, back pressed against various film production paperwork, partially clothed in a light grey skirt and white short-sleeve nylon work shirt. Her platform work shoes were on the floor beside Darrel's desk and her saucy shepherd legs were raised up to her left side, knees close to bumping against her chin, footpaws dragging against printed film script sheets. She held her legs in place with one arm wrapped around the rear nooks of her knees while her other free hand-paw was slid down her thigh, keeping her buttocks spread wide for Darrel's non-stop entry. Darrel was feverishly impressed with her flexibility, how Cassidy was able to fold her entire body upright without breaking a sweat or straining too thoroughly and still manage to take his fat knotted foxcoon dick in her shepherd girl's rear. She laughed, she moaned and shivered with raw succulent lust, watching her breasts jiggle upon her chest from each foxcoon thrust.

"Mmmn, God yes! Mmmn! Mmm! Ah!" Cassidy tried to stay fairly quiet so as not to disturb any nearby cubicles or offices, not wanting to draw any attention from fellow co-workers. Darrel insisted otherwise though, making it very tough to keep her composure and remain silent.

"Moan louder for me, intern." Darrel whispered into her ear as he leaned down close to her face and planted a wet, passionate kiss upon her lips. His tongue dragged against the inside of her cheek and carved a beeline from the corner of her lips to her earlobe, feeling his warm breath permeating her nape, feeling tremendously moist in her nether-regions. She'd reached down between her thighs to finger mercilessly at her slick throbbing vagina, fondling labia lips and pressing hard against her vulva, gasping from Darrel's rigorous anal lovemaking. She was tempted to pinch at her clitoris and force herself to climax hard upon his dick and desk and paperwork, hoping not to ruin her new skirt. 

The air within Darrel's production office was crisp and stale, mixed with the pungent ghosts of cleaning solution and tropical aromatic room spray. Darrel the foxcoon reached up from Cassidy's buttock-spreading wrist and slid his hand-paw up her slender forearm. He let his foxcoon hand-paws slide around the rounded surface of Cassidy's breast and squeeze her bosom soft, thumbing at her perky shepgirl nipple teasingly as he continued to copulate with firm vitality, snuffing out the scents of routine office space and replacing it with the sweet, succulent, stifling aura of raw uninhibited bareback anal sex. Cassidy hoped there were no cameras installed anywhere in Darrel's office, risking the ruin of both her internship and his livelihood, taking his foxcoon dick up her shepgirl ass with no regret the way she had already done, the bad girl. Fortunately for Cassidy, Darrel's office was the only one not monitored by internal CCTV cameras. 

"Oh! Oooooh fuuuuck..." Cassidy clenched her sphincter muscles tight around Darrel's girth and heard him gasp with shock. He chuckled low and growled, leaning back against her face, licking her cheek, dampening her muzzle with his warm wet foxcoon tongue. She lapped at his chin in return, urging him on. Their canine tails tangled wildly between their legs, hyping their excitement and further arousing their playful illicit senses.

"You tryin' to milk me dry, cutie?" Darrel asked her, slamming his dick hard into her puckering tailhole, hoping to drive his foxcoon knot home sooner than later. "Keep that up and you just might." He licked his lips and grunted, humping against her backside rigorously, feeling himself slipping into a state of uncompromising bliss.

"Ffffffuck, boss! Hurry up!" Cassidy began to grow anxious, looking at a nearby wall clock with a tiny hint of wavering panic in her voice. "Hurry up and cum in me already, break's almost up!" She said, eyes wide and gazing up at Darrel. He couldn't recall a more adorable sight.

"Oh, the break ends when I done say it does. Insofar as I can see, I think y'all deserve a tiny bit more time. Kiddo, ya also deserve to wear those sexy thighs 'round my head like fuzzy shepgirl earmuffs. Wanna feel me tongue-fuck ya, darlin'?" Darrel asked her, wrapping his hand-paw around her muzzle and clenching down upon her snout, licking her cheek and wrapping his other arm around her waist, caressing one of her breasts lovingly in his grip. Cassidy nodded her head with excitement. She wanted so much of her new boss, wanted to feel him thrust into every orifice, orgasm hard on her tits and make out hard with her clitoris, tickle her moistened pussy folds with his long whiskers. She desired foxcoon cum more than she ever could've imagined, all thanks to Maxwell's solid recommendation. She couldn't forget to thank the shepcoon later on, after she'd finished having her fun with his foxcoon cousin.

~

Maxwell stepped off the elevator, waving goodbye to the nice vixen secretary. She returned his smile with one of her own and waved back, teeth reflecting glints of ivory-hued sunlight across his face. Marvelous. The elevator doors closed and he knew then that he needed to find the right office and fast. He was horribly paranoid of being caught in the act of conducting an illegal drug exchange. If push came to shove, he'd cry wolf and admit to Darrel's faults, pinning the blame on his sorry foxcoon ass. If Darrel were truly desperate to get marijuana, he'd ask one of his fancy big-wig film producer cohorts. Why he approached Maxwell for the goods he desired was beyond the shepcoon's reckoning, but Max never skimped out on an exchange, even if it meant having to put up with his asshole cousin. All he had to do was ask Calli, his enigmatic Fennec-Afghan hybrid guitarist's Saluki girlfriend, for a fair solid amount of ganja. She'd inquire upon which strain, how many ounces of each, any filters or bong screens needed; all the quintissential pot-smoker's go-to checklist priorities. She took her drug dealing very seriously, all things considered.

So with a hefty bag of both hybrid strain flowerlet buds and hash pebbles, Maxwell the shepcoon walked down a long hallway plagued with cubicles on both sides. In each stall resided an anthro worker or two: cheetahs, ostrich, alligators, cockroaches, raccoons, foxes and wolves and skunks and a massive ensemble of various species. Some were busy typing away at ergonomic keyboards, staring into monitor screens diligently. Others were writing notes on legal pads. Some had phones cradled to their ears, talking and exchanging info with crew teams and discussing future film projects with Darrel in mind. Max passed by artificial potted plants, colorful decorative streamers hung along the cubicle paneling and one of the most obnoxious vacuum cleaners he'd ever heard. A mole anthro ran the device, pushing the suction apparatus back and forth along the hallway's fine mesh carpeting. Mole-boy scooted aside to create a path for Max, who instead stopped to ask him where he'd be able to find Darrel Mendoza.

"Woah, dude. You're kidding, right?" The mole anthro asked, nose scrunched tight.

"No jokes here, amigo. I need to see him. Is he available?" Max asked, face set in a stern gazing expression. Mole-boy was convinced, nodding his head and clearing his throat. He had hoped not to be gnawed to death by the apparent rabid cousin of Darrel Mendoza.

"Last I heard, he was in his office training a new intern or somethin' like that." The mole pointed down the hallway to a large set of double-doors located at the very end. Upon the doors, a plaque had been fastened which read: DARREL MENDOZA - ED

"What's ED stand for?" Max asked. 

"That means 'Executive Director', I think." Mole-boy said, licking his tiny lips and rubbing an itch upon his petite pink nose.

Max felt a tiny ping of jealousy stab at his heart. He wondered if he wouldn't burst the doors wide open and find Cassidy spread-legged with Darrel knot-deep in her pussy, begging for him to cum hard in her and impregnate her with all his foxcoon pups. He reminded himself to calm the fuck down, she wasn't his exclusive mate to have and hold to himself. But still, the feeling of barging in on an anthro woman he cared about significantly having wild untainted sex with a fellow family member he personally detested would be nothing short of the same betrayal he'd felt in the past, in times he cared not to ever revisit. Maxwell's tolerance of shared partners and polygamy was paper-thin.

"Okay, thanks for the help." Max said, resisting the urge to clobber the small janitor. Max looked down at his name badge, which read "EMERSON - SANITARY ASST."

Fancy name for a janitor, ya fuckin' janitor. Max thought to himself as he walked towards the biggest doors in the film production office.

~

"Cum in me already, sir!!" Cassidy begged Darrel, breathing hard and heavy, feeling a slight hint of vaginal discharge leaking down her inner thigh, running along her foxcoon-violated tailhole, dripping free from the base of her tail. 

"Keep callin' me sir and y'all just gonna wind up makin' me feel old. Stop it, I'm Darrel. Call me Mr. D for now though... hold on tight, I'm cumming for real. I think I'll help you out a little, so we can both share an orgasm before callin' your break quits."

"How so, Mr. D?" Cassidy asked him with a rich, velvety voice, swooning and savory, very flirtatious. She knew exactly how to get what she wanted out of anthro men like Darrel Mendoza. He fished out a small hot pink device from a nearby desk drawer. It looked like an iPod with a small wire protruding from the top. Attached to the other side of the wire was an egg-shaped bulb, also obnoxiously pink in color. Cassidy's eyes lit up with insatiable dawning excitement at the sight of the egg vibrator Darrel had revealed. 

"I'll help you cum, and you'll help me cum in return, and we'll both call it a day and never speak of this crazy shit again. Ya dig?" Darrel asked Cassidy, fondling at her moistened pussy lips, lightly sliding his finger-paws against her fleshy pink vulva, poking at her clit teasingly. 

"Aww, no fair!" Cassidy said, pouting with a frown. "What'll I do if I ever wish to fuck you again?" She breathed hard and heavy, moaning with erotic passion, as Darrel switched the device on and shoved it into her vagina, tucking it away between slickened labia folds, Cassidy's mind began to unravel and her body flushed with a rigorous warmth, all stemming from her groin directly. If dogs could sweat, she imagined that she'd be teeming with the stuff, all glistening and shiny beneath large fluorescent tube lamps. 

"Simple. Just ask Max for my number. We'll meet up somewhere, preferably undisclosed and you'll get your fair share of fuckery." Darrel said, green-hued hair swaying with each thrust into Cassidy's rump.

"Ah, yes! Yes! Fuck my ass and cum deep for me, Mr. D! I need your dick so bad right now! Knot me hard!" Cassidy begged, feeling sluttier than normal but caring not one bit about it. She was a very passionate shepherd woman and she craved larger, studlier guys. In a showdown between Max and Darrel, she'd probably settle for the latter, despite Maxwell's animalistic intensity.

"Hmm... sure thing, darlin'." Darrel said, brow cocked and eyes staring hungrily down at her. His face presented nothing but the most vigorous lust for her, all of her. 

Darrel thrust into Cassidy's bum faster and faster until he felt like a piston jackhammering into an engine block. He was the gun firing nails into wooden planks, the cannon launching daredevils into large nylon safety nets, the sexual devilish canine hybrid who'd soon brick hard up his new intern's succulently tight shepgirl tailhole and lick it all clean, just in time for her break to end.

And he sincerely did. Rope after rope of semen squirted free from the tip of his cock, buried balls-deep inside Cassidy's anal passage. She could feel his cum filling her up from inside, threatening to bulge her belly a bit. The raw warm cream-textured sensation of his ejaculate mixed with her vaginal secretions made Cassidy tingle relentlessly in her crotch, feeling a sweltering heat flare up in her pussy. She thought she was on the verge of enduring an explosive squirting orgasm soon. Darrel recognized this and turned the strength up on his toy vibrator, causing the egg apparatus buried in Cassidy's twat to vibrate harder and faster. She shrieked and yelped and her moans raised in volume, becoming extremely high-pitched in tone, youthful and exotic. 

She felt so naughty, letting Max's cousin penetrate her anus opening while she should be busy working and training up in her new position, but she couldn't help it - her feelings for Max had carried over towards his much more endowed cousin, Darrel. She cared for them both naturally, but she felt an overwhelming urge to make moves on Darrel lots more. She wondered if his brute strength didn't constitute to her decision. Maxwell had always been fairly slender in tone, only muscular when he chose to be. Darrel, on the other hand, was practically born chiseled. Cassidy felt a hankering fetish for buff, muscular anthro men. Darrel was certainly no exception to the rule. She lavished in his muscular brute strength when she allowed herself to squirt hard on his dick the first time.

~

Max knocked once at Darrel's door. He thought he'd heard a TV on inside, playing what sounded like a rough struggle between a married couple, perhaps a domestic dispute. Max wouldn't be surprised to walk in on Darrel watching one of his own overrated films, perhaps studying unique acting methods to be carried over into his next big project in development. 

He knocked again, louder this time. 

"Just one minute, please! Hang on, I gotta... oh fuck..." Darrel replied, voice slightly muffled through the doors. 

Max began to worry more than he'd intended to now. What was Darrel's problem? Normally he'd answer with a wisecrack or just as naturally as can be. Max had a horrible vision of Darrel choking to death on a table grape while sat in his office chair, struggling for breath, eyes watery and lips a pale shade of blue. As much as he may have loathed his cousin, he also didn't wish for any harm to come to him. Maxwell looked around to ensure he wouldn't be seen just barging into Darrel's office, which he knew he wouldn't. All other employees were preoccupied with their mutual projects. So much that they never even noticed Maxwell walking into the place. Only the cougar security guard, the vixen secretary and the mole janitor knew of his presence.

Max creaked his neck, cleared his throat and turned the doorknob on Darrel's office doors, pushing one wide open to walk inside and greet his asshole cousin in style.

Instead he greeted Cassidy, anally tied to Darrel, lying on the foxcoon's desk with her shepgirl feet raised up at a wildly Yoga-influenced angle. She glanced over at Maxwell and waved with nonchalance, cheeks simmering with heat from blushing. Darrel did the same, chuckling a tiny bit for good measure. His tail flinched slightly.

"Hi, sweetie! Glad you found the place okay!" Cassidy said, almost a little too formal for comfort. The tone of her voice caused a cringe reaction in Darrel. He stared at Max, frozen still, feeling more than a bit nervous. Max scoffed and placed his hand-paws upon his hips, shaking his head. His orange eye patch trembled and a blend of red and pink mist spewed forth from his empty socket, possessing an esoteric glow, like a mini aurora borealis conjured from within.

"I didn't have to look hard." Max fished the bag of pot from his pocket and threw it down onto the desk, beside a small white coffee cup and saucer that'd been resting beside Cassidy's head during her and Darrel's extensive lovemaking session. A small break for anal sex was always a welcome commodity, always nice to catch a quick breather. "Just take it, you fucker. No need to pay me, you've paid me back plenty enough already." Max glared at Darrel, then averted his gaze towards Cassidy. "Does he feel good, darling lover of mine?"

"Honestly?" Cassidy's eyes rolled back into her head and she twitched slightly, enduring another flushing wave of orgasm that caused her to leak more fluid down her groin, dripping off Darrel's nutsack. She felt a thriving sense of taboo excitement, having an anal orgasm caused by Darrel in front of Max. His jaw had practically come unhinged. "I think he feels a little bigger than you, shepcoon. Oh, and when did we agree that I was your lover exclusively? I can't seem to recall that discussion. So, darling lover, kindly fuck off and don't let your jealousy hit your ass on the way out of those big double-wide doors. You are really cool and I think you are a lot of fun, but we are not exclusive, no relationships of any kind. I'm not that kind of shepgirl, kiddo. I'm here for anyone's service. Yours, theirs... and his." Cassidy said, reaching her arms up to rub Darrel's back passionately. Maxwell scoffed and flung a stray dreadlock from his face. 

"Yeeee-haaaw! Spoken like a true cowgirl!" Darrel exclaimed, wagging his tail. He felt bad for Max, but apparently Cassidy was loving every minute of it. She was quite a cuckolding queen when the need arose. Max may have been pissed but if Darrel knew his cousin well enough, he also knew that the shepcoon would come around and grow out of his distemperment. 

"Shut the fuck up, assholefucker! God damn, you guys! I only suggested to her that she try to take on an internship here, not get anally impregnated by this dickwipe! And what the fuck are you talking about, he's not bigger than me! Like hell!!" Max hollered, pointing a derisive finger-paw toward Darrel, who chuckled and brushed his green foxcoon hair back from his brow, jaded green eyes sparkling.

"Relax cousin, you'd seen this coming, I'm sure... and if you didn't, then, well. Here ya go. What did you expect, sending a pretty angel like her my way?" Darrel asked Max, reaching down to caress her cheek. Cassidy nibbled on Darrel's thumb tip briefly. He took his hand-paw away and began to masturbate her vagina, exciting her even further.

"Maxwell, I couldn't help myself." Cassidy whispered, licking her lips. "Your cousin promised me so much satisfaction, how could I possibly refuse such an offer? I... I need this so bad. More than you even realize, perhaps. This may not make you any less of a bad-ass lover, but man, I'm not as obsessed with you as you may be with me. I don't feel obsession over anyone, only love and compassion. I needed Darrel so bad!"

"That's exactly what she said before she took my knot, cuz." Darrel replied, craning his head down to suck at one of her nipples. She began to breathe heavily and caressed Darrel's head in her hand-pawed grip, combing her finger-paws through his robust green-hued hair, embracing his probing finger-paws upon her pussy lips. Max's rage and envy came to a boiling point from within but instead of inciting horrific violence upon any of them, he willingly let himself enter into Darrel's office, close the doors behind him and walk next to a nearby cushioned leather recliner. 

"How many times have you taken his dick up your ass, Cass?"

"She probably got a good baker's dozen in at least-"

"Asking her, not you, fuck-bag-boy. How many?" Max asked Cassidy directly, interrupting Darrel.

"Before today? Not once. But I'm glad I did, because I was missing out. He feels insanely good, Max!"

Before he could hear another word, he plopped down upon the leather seat and stared unbelievingly at Cassidy. He stared at her and Darrel, exchanging passionate French kisses, all while Darrel's bullet vibrator toy finally managed to escape from the clutches of Cassidy's shepgirl pussy. Darrel picket it up, turned the power switch to OFF and licked the egg piece clean.

"God damn, that's a very tasty pussy. Max, you lucky devil, you've fucked her how many times now?"

"More than you have in any case, bitch-boy." Max muttered, all other thought drowned out by intense hatred for Darrel. He could almost feel his eyepatch burning free from his head.

"Huh, I feel that. Yo Cassidy, you wanna let him in on a threesome? Maybe that'll be good incentive to get y'all paid back for. Thanks for the ganja, by and by. You're the best dealer anyone could ask for, cuz!"

Try telling that to Calli, you ungrateful fucker! Maxwell thought this but didn't say it aloud. "I wouldn't want to involve myself in a threeway orgy with you, Darrel, if it meant it'd save my goddam life from a terminal illness."

Cassidy slammed her fist down upon Darrel's desk hard enough to cause the coffee cup to jump in place, clinking the saucer aloud. Darrel and Max both flinched in reaction to her sudden outburst. She snarled with wild predatory eyes that glared at both the hybrid canine cousins. Her slim German shepherd face, nestled in a tangle of shiny blonde hair, ultimately looked profoundly beautiful, especially while drenched with tiny trails of sexual fluids. 

"Will you two hybrid gentlefurs please get over yourselves and kindly put this stupid fucking jealousy fit thing down for good? Maxwell!! You want in on this action, darling? Then by all means, come get it! Darrel! Would you kindly make sure you cum as much as possible in me? I want every single drop of sperm you can spare, gorgeous. You're family, act like it!! The family that plays together, stays together!!" Cassidy insisted, licking her shepherd lips and looking at Max with illicit bedroom eyes. "As for you, ya sissy bitch? Get the fuck over here and show a shepgirl a good time, or else I'll just keep fucking your cousin right in front of you. I bet you'd like that, huh? Remind you of anyone, ya pansy-ass fucker??"

"Have I ever told you how much I love your insatiable shepgirl ass?" Maxwell asked Cassidy, working at removing his shirt.

"As often as you can! Now come over and prove it, shepcoon."

Darrel just shrugged and nodded in agreement.

~

Emerson was wrapping up the last of his janitorial duties with only one more stop to make - the big boss's office. He always felt a wave of intimidation flood over his senses whenever he was tasked with cleaning up after Darrel Mendoza. As much as Emerson respected his boss, he also didn't want to let the foxcoon down with a less-than-stellar cleaning job. 

He opened the door to Cassidy, the new intern shepherd girl, knelt down on Darrel's desk with his foxcoon knot shoved balls-deep in her ass and the shepcoon hippie from earlier, the one named Max, thrusting his girth into her gaping muzzle. Her shepgirl throat bulged with his fat knotted dogcock nestled deep within, furry chin dripping with fresh cum and thighs sopping wet with a mix of her vaginal discharge, seminal fluids and Darrel's foxcoon cum. Upon hearing the door open, all three anthros glared up towards Emerson, exchanging a momentary lapse of awkward silence, like raccoons caught rummaging in a dry pantry. Emerson stood with a broom in one hand-paw and a dustpan in the other. At the sight of the threesome, he dropped both items to the ground, along with his lower jaw. His eyes widened to the size of the coffee mug saucer on Darrel's desk and his heart began to race relentlessly off the charts. 

"Uhhhh..." Emerson said, really all he could afford to say. He thought he could feel a tiny bulge growing in his briefs.

"Kindly please wait for a moment longer, will you?" Darrel insisted, cocking his wrist towards the door. He was pressed firmly against Cassidy's backside, knotted in place. Cassidy's eyes averted back up to Maxwell's face and she resumed sucking while Max clenched his grip upon Cassidy's head, combing his finger-paws through her thick blonde hair. Emerson nodded like his life depended on it and shut the door softly, offering them more time to themselves. Damn furries and their perverted notions. Emerson walked away from Darrel's office, restraining himself from blowing an obnoxious raspberry with his lips and laugh uproariously at what he'd stumbled upon. He decided to go sweep up the lobby instead, maybe let ol' Willy the security guard downstairs in on what he'd witnessed.

END
