The Sleepover, Part 1

	The invitation came from out of the blue, it seemed.  	
	“Hey, Johnny, the 'rents are gonna be out of town for the weekend.  They said I could have a friend over.  Wanna come over, play some video games, watch some TV, maybe go to baseball practice with me, just hang out?”
	I'd known Jason a long time.  We lived just a few blocks apart.  We'd gone to elementary school together, been on the same Little League team (he much more successfully than I).  We had gone to junior high at the same school, but because of the growth of the town, we had gone to two different schools for ninth and tenth grade.  Now that we were juniors, we were again at the same school.
	But we weren't what you'd call “close friends.”  We enjoyed talking to each other, we'd visited at each other's homes, but Jason was more of a “jock,” spending a lot of his time practicing with the school's baseball team.  He looked to be a coming star.  He was over 6 feet tall, and well-built.  I just barely passed PE, it seemed.  Five feet, nine inches, so about average height. No real skills at any sport, just barely competent enough to not be the last guy chosen for a team.
	So I was a little surprised by the invitation.  I knew my parents well enough to know they wouldn't have a problem with it.  They didn't have a problem with much of anything I did.  They were quite lenient, and I was just naturally a good kid.  I didn't get in trouble, and they let me do what I wanted to.
	My parents didn't even have a problem with me being friends with “the others.”  By that, of course, I mean they didn't mind “pure humans” or “feline hybrids.”
	Oh, I guess I forgot to mention that we're “canine hybrids,”  didn't I?
	Of course, you know all about the “Great Miscegenation.”  (That's a neat word, isn't it?  It used to mean something different.  Look it up.)  Along about 1950, babies started being born with “expressed non-human genes.”  No one knows why, although some scientists pointed to nuclear weapons testing.  Christian fundamentalists called it “God's judgment for the general coarsening of society.”  A few medical researchers thought that maybe, just possibly, it was the result of flu epidemics that had passed through various animal species before migrating to humans, and carried along some of those non-human genes.  And a few people just thought humans had had cats and dogs in their homes so long that some unknown mechanisms or diseases (toxoplasmosis, for example) had slowly transferred enough non-human genes into humans that they were able to actually modify humans.  But it happened all over the world simultaneously, so it was still a mystery.  
	At first, the genetics were all over the place, with some humans just barely modified, and some so modified they were almost not human at all.  Eventually, natural selection set in and the hybrids maintained a human form, but with fur, ears, some facial features, some hand and foot adaptations, and fairly normal reproductive organs.  Yeah, that penile sheath, so popular in furrydom before the GM, turned out to be pretty impractical for erect bipeds.  Oh, and tails.  No matter how cute they look in furry comics, they just don't work for mobile, erect hominids in crowds, going through doors, getting in and out of cars, and all that.  If you've ever seen a cat with a degloved tail, you'll know what I'm talking about.  The one caveat in all this was that the humans, feline hybrids, and canine hybrids could not interbreed.  By the time I was born, four generations into the change, about 1/3 of the population belonged to each group.  And yes, not surprisingly, there was some friction.  It was dying down, but since the groups didn't interbreed (although they did occasionally intermarry), there would never be a homogenization of society.
	“Sure,” I replied to Jason...who just happens to be a feline hybrid.  “When do you want me to come over?”
	“The folks are already gone on their business trip.  Bring your stuff to school on Friday, and we'll have Chrissy pick us up on her way from from the college.”
	Chrissy was Jason's older sister.  She attended a local university.  She had been a big star on the high school track team, and she had had scholarship offers to some big universities all over the place, but she accepted one at the university located just outside of town.  Just as good an education, just as good a scholarship, and lots less in living costs.  I hadn't seen her in a couple of years.  I remembered her as a pretty, pony-tailed presence on the edges of my budding consciousness of girls, as I was starting junior high. 
	The next day was Friday.  I brought an overnight bag with my few essentials, a good book (I like Asimov), and not much else to school.  The day went pretty typically, and after school, we were standing in the school loading zone, waiting for Chrissy.
	After about 10 minutes of waiting, Chrissy drove up in her red Toyota.  Jason threw his backpack in the back seat and then got in the front.  I threw my backpack and overnight bag in the back seat and climbed in.
	Chrissy said hi to Jason, then turned and smiled at me.  “Ready for a weekend full of adventure?  Video games?  Pizza?” she asked.
	“Well, as exciting as any of those are, I'm ready for it,” I replied.  Chrissy had always been a sunny tease, and her ready smile and quick wit made her great fun.  She turned back to her driving, maneuvered out of the school driveway, and headed for home.
	I could have guessed the two were related, even without knowing it.  Jason had mostly white fur, with the occasional black spot.  Chrissy was entirely white, except for one black ear.  They were both athletically built; Jason could outrun most of the kids in the class, and he could throw a baseball from the center field wall to home plate.  Chrissy was lithe, but not thin.  Jason was wearing a T shirt, and he filled it out very well.  Chrissy had on a running shirt, with wide shoulder straps instead of sleeves.  The right sleeve was slipping down over her shoulder, revealing a slender strap to what I assumed would be a sports bra.  After the exertion of PE and probably a training run, the two of them also smelled similar; a little musky, a little sweaty, a little wet.  Hey, people still talk about the famous “wet dog” smell we canines give off.  “Wet cat” is much the same.
	In just a few minutes, we pulled up in front of their house.  Jason and I grabbed our stuff and went inside, while Chrissy parked her car in the garage.  
	Their house was a little unusual.  Her parents lived on the main floor, where there was a kitchen, dining room, three bedrooms, etc.  Jason and Chrissy lived in a fully finished basement.  It had been a while since I had been down there, so they showed me around, first of all.  There was a living room/den with a couch, chairs, TV, game system, etc.  They had their own kitchen and eating area.  There were three bedrooms.  Jason had his own bedroom, with its own bathroom.  There were two more bedrooms with a shared bathroom between them.  “Jack and Jill rooms” is the term I have heard applied to this type of arrangement.  One of those bedrooms was Chrissy's.  The other had formerly been her two-year-older sister's room.  That sister, Sassy, was away at college.
	(Note:  Sassy's name was actually Sassinak.  Apparently Jason's mother was an Anne McCaffrey fan.)  
	I would have to sleep in Sassy's room.  There wasn't an extra bed in Jason's room, or even a pull-out couch or anything. Not a big deal, except I would have to share the bathroom with Chrissy.  
	Speaking of Chrissy, she came down the stairs and threw her keys on the kitchen counter.  
	“I don't feel like cooking, and Mom and Dad left me money for pizza.  That OK with you guys?”
	“Heck, yeah,” said Jason.  
	“Fine with me,” I chimed in.  
	“The usual flavors?” she asked.
	“Beef and cheese for me,” I suggested.
	“Yeah, that's kind of what we usually get.  Speak up if there's something you really don't like.”
	“Nah, I'm not a fussy eater at all.”  It made life a lot easier for my mom!
	Chrissy pulled out her phone and texted an order to the Pizza House.  It was interesting to note that next to Jason, she was really short.  Her head was about halfway up his chest.  Probably not even up to my chin.  About 5 feet, at maximum.
	“So, what kind of games do you like?” asked Chrissy.  “I guess we have all the usual video games.  Plus, we have some old fashioned party games.”
	“Eh, not a fan of most video games.  The RPG's just don't do it for me.  At home, I play Flight Simulator, but it's not really a competitive thing.  What kind of old games have you got?”  Truth be told, I'm not much of a competitor at any game.  Maybe that's why I suck at sports.
	“Let me look over here in this cabinet.”  Jason got up and went over to some book shelves on one wall.  “We have...Rook, which is a card game.  We have Monopoly, the old standby that no one has ever finished.  Clue.  Colonel Mustard, in the basement, with the doorknob.  Here's Twister.  Do people still play that?”
	The doorbell rang, and Chrissy went up the stairs.  In a few moments, she came back down with a couple of pizza boxes.
	“Dinner!” she sang out.
	Much chewing and swallowing ensued, with very little conversation.  
	When the munching slowed to next to nothing, Chrissy and Jason both said they needed to get a shower before they played any games.  That left me to my book for half an hour or so.  “Tales of the Black Widowers,” one of my favorite Asimov series.  I was on the second story, “Ph as in Phony.”  
	About a half hour later, Jason exited his bedroom.  Chrissy came out of hers a few minutes later.  They had both changed to shorts and a crop top.  OK, I guess Jason's was actually a muscle shirt.  Chrissy's shorts were the really short runner's type.  Jason's were longer, as the style now is for basketball players.
	“So, have we found a game we want to play?”  Chrissy asked.
	“Let's not mess with anything too serious.  When was the last time we played 'Operation?'”  Jason asked.
	“OK,” was Chrissy's reply, as she headed over to the bookshelves.  It only took her a few moments to find the game, and she brought it to the table.  Jason removed the remains of our pizza feast.
	Chrissy set up the game.  Let's admit it.  This is a game aimed at 10-year-olds..  The idea is to “cure” a patient by removing parts from him, while removing money from his wallet.  It's more a game of luck and manual dexterity than anything else.  But we were just playing games anyway, right?
	We quickly discovered Chrissy had the steadiest hands, but I had the best luck in drawing operation cards.  Ultimately she won.
	One thing I did enjoy during the game was sitting across the table from Chrissy.  I found that when she leaned over to “operate” on the patient, her crop top fell open a little at the top each time.  Guess what?  She didn't have a bra on.  I had thought that might be the case, because I thought I saw nipples under the fabric, and there was some interesting movement in there when she moved around.
	“Another round?” asked Jason.  
	Of course, I was all for it.  Maybe I would get to see my first real bare kitten nipple, if I was lucky.  But neither of them were enthusiastic.
	“How about something more active?  We've been just sitting for too long!”  suggested Jason.
	“What do you have in mind?” asked Chrissy.
	“How about we get out that old 'Twister' game?  Haven't played that in years.”
	“Well, if the plastic sheet hasn't fallen apart, and we haven't lost anything else out of the box, I guess we can try it.”  She sounded a little doubtful.
	Jason took the Operation game back over to bookcase, and after a few minutes, he dug a larger box out of some disorganized stuff in one cubicle of the shelf.  He brought it back over to the table.
	Chrissy pulled the cover off, and stared into the box.  
	“Man, I can't remember even how this works.”  She didn't look happy.
	“Well, there should be a spinner with four squares, and a big plastic sheet with colored spots on it.”  
	“Yeah, that's all here,” she said.  
	She pulled the spinner out of the box and and threw it on the couch.  She pulled out the plastic sheet, shook it out, and laid it out on the living room carpet.  It had four rows of colored dots, each dot a little less than a foot in diameter.  Each row had six dots of the same color:  red, blue, yellow, and green.  Chrissy picked up the rule sheet and reviewed it quickly.
	“OK,” Jason said, “the game usually requires two players.  One player starts at each end of the mat, with a foot on the blue dot and one on the yellow dot.  We spin the spinner, and call out the required move.  It will give a body part (a hand or a foot), and a color.  You have to quickly put that body part on the required color.  Only one body part on each dot.  If you already have a  body part on the closest dot, you have to go to the next one.  Being unable to reach a dot, falling over, or touching the mat with anything but your hand or foot loses you the game.  Oh, and no shoes.  Ready?”
	“So why do I have to play, and not you?” I asked Jason.
	“Because this game is no fun with a sister or brother,” he replied simply and honestly.
	So I took off my shoes.  Chrissy was already in bare feet.  We took our places at each end of the mat.
	Jason spun the pointer on the spinner card.
	“Ladies first,” he said.  “Chrissy, right hand to red.”
	Chrissy had the red dots on her left side.  She put her right hand on the third dot from her end.
	“OK, now Johnny.”  He spun.  “Johnny, left foot yellow.”
	My left foot was already on a yellow, so I had to move it.  I went to the second dot in the yellow row.  I figure that would leave me more options later.  I looked down at Chrissy; the view was pretty nice.  I know those butt muscles are from running, but they look like they might...
	“Chrissy, left foot green.”
	She had to pick up here left foot, twist around, move it under her right leg, in order to get it on a green spot.  
	“Johnny, right hand red.”
	That was another easy one.  I just bent over and put my right hand on the third red dot.  Of course, Chrissy's right hand was on the next red dot, so my face was very close to her left shoulder.  She smelled good.  Soap?  Cologne?  A little like roses.  A hint of cinnamon?
	“Chrissy, right foot red.”
	That wasn't too bad a move.  She just moved her right foot two spots to the right.  It moved her head a little closer to mine.  I noticed she had beautiful green eyes.  I also noticed she had nipples sticking up against her fairly thin shirt.  
	Luckily, I was leaning over and (I hoped) she couldn't see the effect the view was having on me.
	“Johnny, right hand green.”
	Now that was tough.  It put both my feet and my right hand in a straight line, which made for tough balancing.
“Chrissy, left hand green.”
She really could only reasonably reach the green spot next to my hand.
	“Johnny, left hand blue.”
	I tried.  I really tried.  But that crossed my arms, and I just couldn't hold it.  I fell over, upsetting Chrissy, and we ended up in a pile.  No, that didn't bother me much.  Being entangled with her was more like a reward than a punishment.  
	Once we were all disentangled, we just sat there for a minute or two, laughing.
	“Shall we go again?” asked Jason.
	“Nah, I don't think I could ever win against Chrissy.  She's too coordinated, and I'm too un.”
	“Shall we watch TV?  It's about time for Letterman.”  Chrissy, the college student, probably liked that sort of thing.  I was just beginning to catch on to it.  I was a good student, and I read a lot, so I was getting more and more of the humor.  I rarely attended movies, so a lot of the “star” discussion went over my head.
	So we settled in to watch, for a while.  It was getting late, and I tended to be an early-to-bed kind of guy, so I was getting a little sleepy.  Jason sprawled on one end of the couch, and Chrissy was toward the left end, so I sat in the easy chair.  Chrissy pulled up her right foot under her left knee, and when I glanced over there, I realized with a shock that I could see up the leg of her shorts.  I saw what appeared to be some sort of slick black underwear.  Maybe silk?  A real contrast to her white fur.  I quickly looked back at the TV before she could catch me staring, but I found my glance wandering back there, more and more.  
	And each glance made me feel a little more...uh, well, to quote Beetlejuice...”anxious.”  I hoped Chrissy couldn't see the signs of my discomfort.  However, she seemed oblivious, caught up in the antics of David Letterman and his guests.  On one of my regular sneaked peaks at the “gates of Paradise,” however, I did notice her looking at me, too, with a wry smile on her face.  She liked teasing; could this be more of it?
	In any case, if this kept up, I would need to go and “relieve the pressure,” soon.  However, the thought of doing it with Chrissy in the next bedroom, separated by just a door, was a little daunting.
	The show soon ended, and Jason stood up, stretching and yawning, as Chrissy turned off the TV.  She put the remote back on the coffee table in front of the couch, and got up, too.
	“It's late, and I have practice in the morning,” said Jason, through a yawn.  “I'm going to bed.”
	“I've been falling asleep for the last half hour, too,” I lied.  “Show me where to go.”
	Jason led me to the middle bedroom.  
	“You can lock the bathroom door from either side,” he explained. “If you're in there and don't want to be disturbed, lock the other door.  If you're in your bedroom and don't want to be disturbed, lock the door.  I'm sure Chrissy will do the same.  If you try the door and it's locked, just wait a few minutes.  Chrissy isn't a bathroom hog.”
	I went back out into the living area and got my backpack and overnight bag.  I brought them into the bedroom and set them on a chair in the corner.  Being a little shy, I figured I'd brush my teeth, etc., before I change into nightclothes. 
	The door into the bathroom was unlocked.  I took my “shaving bag” and laid them on the counter.  I locked the other door, turned on the water, lifted the toilet lid and seat and peed.  Fortunately, I guess, my mother had stressed the importance of toilet seat etiquette when women share the bathroom.  At least I would look like a “chauvinist male pig.”
	I brushed my teeth, washed my face (using the towel on “my” end of the counter), turned off the light, went into the bedroom, and locked the bathroom door.   I quickly changed into my sleeping shorts, got in the bed, turned off the lamp, and worked on relaxing.  I ran the evening back through my mind.  Fun, in a mild way.  Titillating, in a fun way.  Puzzling, in several ways.
	Sometime in the night, I woke up, needing to pee.  I've always had that problem; I never sleep through the night without a bathroom run.  I got up, unlocked the door, and tried it.  It opened.  The lights were off, but there was a nightlight, letting me see just fine to do what I needed to.  I finished up, flushed, turned, and went back to my room, getting back in bed.
	Wait.  Was that a crack of light I had seen at the bathroom door?  I quietly got up to check.
	I opened my bathroom door, quietly.  Across the room, I did, indeed, see a crack of light.  And a green eye in the crack.
	I turned to check my door, and when I turned back, the eye was gone.  But the light was on in Chrissy's room.  I crept closer and peeked through.
	Chrissy was on her bed, on her knees, completely naked.  And she was wiggling her naked behind at me.  I could clearly see her genital slit.  She turned her beautiful face, with those green eyes, toward me and smiled.
	I crossed the space to the bed in just a couple of quick steps, pulling my penis out of my shorts at the same time.  It was already huge, throbbing.  I grabbed Chrissy's hips and thrust myself deep into the opening.
	But it didn't feel anything like I'd been led to expect.  Rather than warm, restrictive, slippery depths, it felt rather cool, almost as if it was exposed in open air, as it would be when I stimulated it.
	Suddenly, Chrissy whirled, hissing and spitting, and leapt at me with claws bared.  She knocked me to the floor, landing on top of me! Her hisses came at my bared face and exposed ears!

The Sleepover, Part 2

	"Shhhhhh, shhhhhh, shhhhhh," I heard gently, in my ear.  "You're OK, whatever you were dreaming was just a dream!"
	I started to relax...and then thought better of it.  If I wasn't mistaken, that was Chrissy's voice in my ear!   Maybe.  Or WAS it a dream?  After all, it was that very voice and that very person who had...maybe...attacked me just a few moments ago!  Maybe...
	But the warmth against my back was definitely not threatening.  And the words were soothing.  And the hand on my penis was... 
	Wait!  A hand on my manhood?!?  What's going on here?
	Whatever was going on, however, was wonderful.  The gentle stroking, I realized, had been going on for some time now, because I was fully erect.  In fact, the more I thought about it (and it was becoming increasingly difficult to think about anything else), the more I realized that this was the source of my strange dream and explained the lack of the feelings I had expected with my first experience at sex.  No warm, soft, moist, restrictive depths.  Just some friction, not unlike my own attentions.
	"Are you awake now?" The whisper was definitely Chrissy's.
	"Uh, yes.  What's going on?"
	"Don't be worried or upset.  I'll explain it all.  But first, I have a few questions."  Her warm breath tickled my ear.
	"First of all, you've had your sixteenth birthday, right?"
	"Yeah, back in July.  Why?"
	"Because the age of consent in this state is 16, and while I love doing this, I don't want to go to jail for it."  
	That seemed fair enough.  Whatever "this" was!
"So, are you a virgin?"
Well, that certainly was abupt!  And nosey.  And a fair question, I guess.
"Yes."
"Would you like me to change that for you?"  
"Oh, yes, definitely."  Why lie?  In fact, my hormones were telling me that there might not be much chance of refusing, even if I wanted to.
"OK, next question.  I'm pretty sure I know the anwer, but, do you like girls?  Not that there's anything wrong with gay guys, and I'm not against a little same-sex experimentation myself, but that's not our situation, here."  
"Oh, yes, no doubt."
"Good, I was pretty sure that was true.  I purposely flashed you with peeks down my shirt and at my underwear, and I was pretty sure I saw the normal reaction."
Aha!  So it WAS intentional!
"Now a biggie.  Do you have anyone you feel like you have to tell everything you do?  A parent, sibling, teacher, advisor, priest, anyone?"
"Nope.  I love my parents, and I respect my elders, but what I do when the lights are off and I'm all alone (so far) is my business, I figure."
"Great!  Again, I don't have any desire to be mixed up in any sort of scandal."
"OK, so, um, if you don't mind my asking, what ARE we doing?"
"Well, first of all, I'm going to check to be sure that your equipment works right, and you don't have any obvious problems.  While you were sleeping, I looked, sniffed, and felt all around your 'package.'  You seem to be the normal, healthy, horny 16-year-old."
"Glad to hear it.  I haven't had a lot of opportunity to compare myself to others, at least not in an 'excited' state."
"Nope, you're pretty normal, for a fur of canid descent.  So, let's get this show on the road.  I know 16-year-old boys, and they're all about grabbing those titties, smacking that ass, and getting a finger in that pussy.  I'm going to teach you how to be a better friend, a better boyfriend, and a better lover, and believe me, your future girlfriends will thank me for it.
"Keep in mind, however, that Jason is in the next room, and if you try to force me to do anything I don't want to do, or if you hurt me, a quick scream will bring him in here and you won't like the results.  Not that I think that's a big danger; I have Jason watch out for the guys that are likely to have that problem, and they never even step through the front door.  OK?"
How could I refuse?  This looked like fun.  Maybe the most fun I had ever had.
"I'm ready, I think," was all I could say.
I was lying on my left side.  She scooted a little ways away from my back, and with her right hand, she took my right hand and guided it to the soft fur on her tummy.  She opened my hand, and guided it downward until it rested on a silky, satin-smooth fabric.  That must be the black panties I glimpsed earlier!
After she used my hand to rub the front of the panties a couple of strokes, she separated my fingers, picked out the middle one, and guided my hand under the elastic waistband.  She moved it down further, until it came to the beginning of her slit.  She continued to lead it down, until she pushed it into the depths between those nether lips.  
Oh, wow!  How could I be so lucky?
"Ever had your finger in a place like that?" she asked, with almost a giggle.
"No, nowhere near!"
"Good.  Concentrate on that for a few moments.  Do a little exploring.  There may be a quiz later!"
I did.  It felt like nothing I could imagine, before.  It was warm, moist, and soft.  I felt a nubbin close to the top of the slit, and then, farther down, I came across what felt like two little flaps, one on each side of the main opening.  Continuing down, I found an area that seemed to get deeper and deeper.  I was pretty sure what I had discovered, and the thought was so amazing....
I found my explorations so exhilerating, I had sort of forgotten Chrissy's "check up."  But apparently she had been slowly stroking my erection, and suddenly, the excitement of my explorations and the excitement of her stroking reached a peak.  I felt what seemed to be an electric shock around the base of my penis.  The ring slowly climbed up to the tip, and I felt an explosion in my groin.  I knew I was ejaculating, and it seemed like a fire hose had been turned on.  I was sure there was going to be a big mess, but I didn't care, as long as Chrissy approved of the results.
I lifted the covers and looked down, and found that there wasn't going to be a mess.  Chrissy had carefully caught the full load in her cupped hand.
Finally, the spurts and jerks subsided, and I tried to concentrate on catching my breath.
"Good boy," she said.  She climbed over me and got off the bed.  She sat down on the edge, looked me in the eyes, and slowly brought her cupped right hand to her muzzle.  She gave me a wink, and then stuck her long, cute, pink tongue into the liquid in her palm.  
"Mmmm," she murred.  "It seems to be entirely normal. Let me go get rid of the rest of this, and then we'll continue with some fun!"  
I lay back on the bed, tired but buzzing, and wondered how much better this could get.

The Sleepover, Part 3

	As I sat on the edge of the bed, I heard water running in the bathroom between our rooms, and shortly Chrissy came back out into my room.  She was smiling, and her smile was really enough to light up the room.  And my heart.
	"Ready for more fun and learning?" she asked.
	"Whatever you want, I guess. You're the teacher, tonight."
	"Good, good."  She sat down on the bed next to me.  "The thing you have to understand is, boys and girls are different.  I know, I know, that's obvious.  But I just took you from panic to orgasm in a few minutes.  Girls aren't like that.  It takes a lot longer, and they have to feel secure, before they can experience true sexual pleasure.  Nature made it that way on purpose.  And your job, if you want to have more than what amounts to a quick intra-vaginal masturbation episode, is to give her that security."
	"Now, let's pretend we're on a date, and we're someplace dark and safe, and I'm showing signs I'd like some more from you.  You have to understand that just grabbing my boobs and putting your hand down my pants is not going to get you where you want to go.  First of all, everyone, and especially girls, don't have just a couple of erogenous zones.  The whole body is sensitive, especially when you're a little aroused, and touching almost anywhere will be enjoyed, from the top of your head to the soles of your feet.  Also, keep in mind my feline descent, so gentle 'petting' is especially appreciated.  So, let's start with some basics.  Sit back a little on the bed, and spread your knees."
	I scooted back and spread, as she asked.  She turned around and sat on the edge of the bed, between my knees, with her back to me.
	"Now, before we begin, do you think I'm pretty?"
	"Well, of course, I do," I stammered.  "You're gorgeous!"
	"Oh, you're sweet to say that.  Sincere appreciation will help you a lot, and it makes me feel good, too."
	"I want you to touch me gently all over.  Remember to go with the fur direction, and make your touch very light.  Start with the top of my head and my face.  Use both hands, and you can kiss me, too.  Just stay away from the typical 'sex zones' that you may have heard girls love to have touched.  For right now, don't touch my underwear.  And never touch my butthole."
	“Really?  I thought girls liked that!”
	“Well, keep in mind you got that idea from porn, probably, and most porn is written by men, for men.  Don't believe everything you read or see there.  Oh, someday you might find a girl who likes anal sex, but believe me, the numbers are extremely small.  In fact, most girls, when they see that in a video, say, 'Ew, doesn't he know that's the wrong hole?'”
	“Is there porn written by women, for women?”
	“Yeah.  It's called Romance.”  She settled back against me.
	I did as she said, and ran a fingertip from the top of her head, between her ears, and down past the nape of her neck.  I stopped to kiss her there, because...well, because it just felt right.  She wiggled a little, as if in appreciation.  With my left hand, I went back to the top of her head and gently touched her ears.  They were different from mine, of course, because they stood up all the time.  But they were delicate and expressive.
	With my right hand, I ran a finger down from her forehead to the tip of her pink nose.  Then I traced her lips with my fingertip.  She kissed my fingertip, and a little thrill went through me.  For such a little thing?  I was surprised.
	I reached around and felt under her chin, then down her neck.  I came to her collar bones, and traced them out to her shoulders.  I followed her arms down to her elbows, then to her hands.  She was muscular, but svelte.  I held her hands in my palms, and lifted them to my lips, kissing the cute pink paw pads.  I sqeezed one finger pad, and sure enough, a deadly-looking claw slid out.  But it was painted pink!
	Back to her chest, I smoothed the fur above her breasts.  Careful not to touch the forbidden bra, I circled back under it to her abdomen.  She was more muscular there than I am, revealing her athletic expertise.   Her ribs were just detectable under the muscle.  I followed the rippling abs down to her belly button.  No, I couldn't resist tickling it.  Yes, she was ticklish there!
	Stopping before the tempting black silk panties, I brought my hands back behind her.  Starting at her neck, I followed her backbone down.  I never really thought about the skeletal workings of girls, but I savored each moment of touching her, anywhere.  Again, I stopped before I got to the elastic waistband of those panties.
	Leaning against her back, I ran my hands down her thighs, to her knees.  I came back up on the inner sides, and she slightly spread her legs to allow me to enjoy the silky, soft fur there.  I withdrew my right hand, reached under her knees, put my left behind her back, and lifted her slightly, putting her across my lap.  This way, I could run my hand the rest of the way down to her feet.  I admired her strong, muscular calves and ankles.  I felt around each toe, and again admired the cute pink foot pads, as well as (again) the retractable claws.  
	She reached her right hand up and around my back, pulling my face down to hers.  She placed a gentle kiss on my lips, then pulled me down harder, pressing more against my lips.  She started moving her lips around, and finally thrust her tongue between her lips...and between mine!
	I had heard of kissing like this, and it was nothing like the little peck on the cheek I had gotten after a couple of dates!  It was intense, and fun, and ... well, messy, to a certain extent.  But Chrissy seemed to be very pleased.  And I learned that even my parents had a stereotype problem.  They had always talked about the “sandpaper tongue” that cats had.  Chrissy's tongue was only a little rougher than mine, and almost as long, which is pretty long, indeed.  We did a lot of exploring.  Finally, we came up for breath.
	“You remember when I put your hand in my panties?” she asked.
	“How could I forget?”
	“Fair enough.  Do you remember how it felt?”
	“Yeah, pretty much.”
	“Well, you can get a pretty good indication of how ready a girl is for sex by doing exactly that.  However, there's a 'shorthand' version.  Just lightly touch my panties, down the front.”
	Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh.  I ran my fingers down the front of the black silk.  It felt warmer than it had earlier, and a little...wet, I guess you'd say.
	“OK, did you notice the difference?” she asked.
	“Yeah, it's kind of wet.  Not a lot, but you can feel it.”
	“That means you're making progress, doing the right things.  You've earned the next step.  You can take my bra off.”
	The only problem with that is that she was sitting sideways in my lap, and I could get at her bra fastener with only my left hand.  Experienced guys will know what I'm talking about.  I couldn't see it, and I couldn't figure out how to operate it.  Such pleasure so close, and unable to accomplish it!  Fortunately, she saw the problem, reached behind her, and undid the clasp.  She left it to me to remove it, though.  I did so carefully, making sure not to catch any of her skin or fur in it.  Let me tell you, the first time you see a pair of breasts relax to their natural shape after being removed from the support of a bra is a magical moment.
	OK, stop right there.  I've heard all the theories about why guys like breasts.  Weaned too young.  All that stuff.  I don't know why, and I don't care why.  To quote one comedian, once you've seen two...you want to see them all!
	Chrissy's breasts were, of course, covered with white fur, except for the area right around the nipples, which was bare baby pink skin.  They were medium-sized, I would guess (and how would I know, at that stage?), nicely shaped, with just enough weight to form a nice bulge.  
	“Go ahead, you can touch them,” she laughed.
I realized I was staring.  I cautiously reached out with my right hand and touched the bottom of her left breast.  Oh, man, was it soft!  I gently lifted it, just to see how much work that bra had been doing.  Not a lot, but it gave my stomach butterflies.  Then I gently touched the nipple.  Warm, soft.  I pressed gently, and it indented quite a bit.  I released it, and of course it sprang back out.  
	Chrissy giggled.  “Never touched one before, huh?”  
	“No, never.  At least, not that I remember.  You know, what with being a baby at the time, and all.  I've seen pictures and videos, but it doesn't feel like I imagined it would.”
	“Disappointed?”
	“Oh, no, they're marvelous.  Much nicer than I ever thought they'd be.  It seems a crime to cover up anything so wonderful.”  I was awestruck.
	She wiggled a little, just to make them shake.  
	“Uh, what size are they?  I assume there is a system for that, so you buy the right...um...underwear?”
	“We use a 'cup size' system.  They use letters, from A, to whatever, with A being the smallest.  Mine are C-cups, which I guess is about average.  Much larger than that, and I couldn't be a runner.”
	I spent a little while admiring them.  Then I spent a while just touching them, comparing them to my hand, changing their shape, etc.  
	And I spent some more time deeply kissing Chrissy.
	Finally I got up my nerve.
	“Can I kiss your breasts, too?” I asked, holding my breath.
	“Certainly.  In fact, I wish you would.  And lick the nipples.  And suck on them.  And kiss me some more!”
	The nipples were soft and warm.  At least, until I slobbered on them.  But I cleaned them off.  And I kissed her a lot.
	And after a while, she said, “Check the panties again, Johnny.”
	I ran my finger down the front again, and now they were very wet.  In fact, the moisture was coming through the fabric.
	“Really wet.  Now what?”
	She scooted off my lap, stood up, and faced me.
	“Now, this!” she said.
	She pulled the black silk panties down slowly.  I watched them go all the way to the floor.  She stepped out of them and stood up straight in front of me. 
	There she stood, in all her nude magnificence.   My eyes followed up her legs, to the area the panties had covered, and on up past her ticklish belly button, her fascinating breasts, and her glowing face.  How could I be so lucky?
	She caught me staring at her ... um ... yeah, that.  I guess the word would be “vulva.”  
	“Still liking what you're seeing, Johnny?”  
	“Oh, yes.  Like I said, I've seen pictures before, but it looks so...different.”
	“Here, take a closer look,” she said.  She pushed my knees together, then stepped closer, straddling my legs.  She reached down and smoothed the fur around the area in question.  At first, all I saw was a bare, pink-skinned area surrounding a slit.  But rather than being just a slit, I saw that there were a pair of little folds of skin protruding from them, about half-way along the length.  They were a glistening, darker pink color.  
	Chrissy used her two forefingers to spread the outer lips of the slit.  
	“The first thing you see, up close to the top, is the secret to my sexual satisfaction.  That is the clitoris, of which you have no doubt heard, and are now seeing for the first time in real life.”
	She used her forefinger and second finger to spread the slit wider.  The two smaller lips seemed to stick together, probably from the moisture on them.
	“What you see here are the doors to your sexual paradise.  They're called the labia minora, or little lips.  They are the place we all come out of, and the place you boys spend all your time trying to get back into.”
	She spread the little lips, and I could see a little opening there.  
	“So, Chrissy, do you have a name for this...uh...equipment?”
	“Yes.  I call it Little Pussy.  Because, of course, I'm the Big Pussy.”  
	Staring Little Pussy in the face—so to speak—was a little daunting, especially with Big Pussy watching me.
	“Go ahead and touch it,” she urged.
	Again, I carefully reached out and touched the clitoris.  It felt like a little nub, just as it looked.
	“Right now, that's bigger than it usually is.  Just like your ... uh, what do you call your little guy?”
	“I call him 'Hermy.'  It's a joke from junior high health class.  The teacher, when he talked about couples, always referred to them as 'Hermy and Petunia.'”
	“How cute.  Well, just like Hermy, when I get sexually excited, that organ swells up some.”
	I touched it again.  Chrissy drew in a sudden breath.
	Then I followed the lips down to the opening.  I found it increasingly slippery.  It felt almost like velvet.  I inserted a finger into the opening.  It slipped in very easily.  I slowly slid it in, until my entire finger was inside.
	“OK,” she said, “you've had one release already, and I haven't had any, so let's continue your education.”
	She stepped back, turned around, and started to sit down.  Then she turned and took another look at me.
	“I'm naked.  You need to take your shorts off, too.”
	I realized that I had not taken them off.  She had apparently coaxed “Hermy” out of the front opening, when she needed access to him.  Made sense, really.  I stood and pulled my shorts down, then kicked them off by the bed and sat back down.  She turned around, reached back and spread my knees again, and sat on the edge of the bed in front of me again.
	“Once a girl is as wet as I am, she's really ready for some serious activity.  Give me your right hand, and I'll show you what I want.”
	She scooted back until she had my penis trapped between us.  Then she spread her knees, took my right hand, found my middle finger, and inserted the tip in her slit.  She slowly moved it up and down the lips, from the lower opening, up to the clitoris, and back.  Every few strokes, she'd insert my finger into the opening (which I realized was her vagina).  This kept the whole “playing field” well-lubricated.
	She removed her hand and left me to my own devices.  It was fascinating.  Just the very idea of what I was doing made ... uh...Hermy about as stiff as I could stand him being.
	Chrissy was clearly enjoying what I was doing.  She started to rock her pelvis, assisting my attentions.  Eventually, she moved her left hand to the scene of the action.  She moved my hand so that I was titillating the right side of her clitoris, and she took the left side.  She coordinated her movements to mine, including the regular dive into the source of the slippery velvet.  Sometimes both our fingers would be in her vagina at the same time. 
	She was starting to rub faster and faster, and I tried to keep up with her.  She also wanted to be kissed, deeply, and having both my fingers and my tongue going at the same time was really stimulating.  Add in my left hand cupping her left breast, and there was serious dermal contact and excitement.  Then she put her right hand around my back, scooted forward a little, and grabbed Hermy and began vigorously stroking that. 
	Man, were we busy!
	Suddenly, I felt her stiffen up and begin shuddering.  She broke off our kiss and started gasping and moaning.  She grabbed my hand and plunged it deep into her velvety depths.  I'd never seen it in person, before, but I suddenly realized she had reached an orgasm.  And that was so sexy, I did, too!
	Slowly, we both subsided into a pleasant relaxation.  I scooted back on the bed, pulled her after me, and lay down on my left side.  I pulled her closer to me, her warm bottom against my groin, her back against my chest, and my right hand cupping her left breast, my muzzle in her soft hair.  Yep.  Definitely cinnamon.  Our breathing slowed.
	And that was the last thing I knew until morning.

The Sleepover, Part 4

	I slowly opened my eyes.  There was sun coming in through the high windows (because they were above ground level).  I heard noise out in the living area.  And I smelled cooking.  Eggs and bacon, if my nose didn't deceive me, and, being of canine descent, it rarely did.
	I was about to get up and make a quick trip to the bathroom when the door suddenly opened.  Chrissy stuck her head in the room.  
	“Oh, good, you're awake.  Are you ready for some breakfast?” she asked with a smile, stepping into the bedroom.  She was wearing a cute, frilly apron.
	“Yeah.  Let me go to the bathroom and I'll be right out.”
	“Good deal,” she replied.  “It's 7:30.  Jason had baseball practice at 7, so he'll be gone until about 5 this afternoon.  So it's just us until then.” She turned to go back out.  I realized she was wearing an apron, and nothing else!  And I noticed how great nothing looked on her.
	I found my shorts on the floor, where I'd kicked them last night.  I put them on and and made the necessary trip to the bathroom.  While there, I looked in the mirror.  I looked like I'd been wrestling with someone; my hair was sticking up, and the rest of my fur looked pretty frowzy.  I smoothed it down a little, washed my hands and face (remembering where they'd been overnight), and headed for the living area.
	Chrissy was, indeed, cooking up eggs and bacon for breakfast.  I watched her working at the stove.  As I said, THAT view was magnificent.  How could she look so good, when I looked so bad?  She picked up the plates and turned toward me.  I noticed that the frilly apron's top was narrow enough that I got a peek at each nipple as her breasts swayed with the movement.
	She set the plates at the table, she on one side, I on the other.
	“This OK?”
	“Oh, yes, great.  As I said last night, I'm not a fussy eater.”
	“Then dig in!” she smiled.
	That smile!  How could I resist that?
	The food was great.  I DID notice another smell (canine nose here, remember?) and I assumed it was the famous “smell of sex” I'd read about.  Not unpleasant, but a little musky.
	We ate more or less in silence.  Every time she bent over or moved, I got nipple peeks.  I didn't feel the need to talk while we were eating.
	However, when Chrissy put down her silverware, I spoke up.
     “So, would you like to explain what happened last night?  I'm not complaining, mind you, but I feel like I'm a little in the dark about what happened, and why.”
	“OK, I did promise you an explanation.  I'll give you that, and if you have a problem with it, I'll do what I need to to make it right with you, or take you home, or whatever.  That sound fair?”
	“Oh, yes.  As I said, I'm just kind of puzzled.”
	“Well, here's the deal.  We've been doing this for a while, but every guy has to swear, at this point, not to tell anyone else about it.  Are you OK with that?  Can I trust you with what is going to be a secret that you'll just be dying to tell others about?”  She looked earnestly into my brown eyes with her beautiful green ones.
	“I don't kiss and tell.  I guess that's the expression.  I haven't done a lot of kissing before, so it hasn't been too much of a temptation up to this point.  But yes, I promise not to tell anyone.  What's up?”
	“Well, I like sex.  And I like guys.  Every so often, I have Jason pick out a guy he knows and trusts and invite him over for the weekend.  If I find him attractive and attentive, through interactions and a little teasing, then I sneak in his room, check him out, and play with him.  Had you failed any one of those steps, you would have gone with Jason to baseball practice this morning and everything would be exactly as you expected.”  She was nervously playing with the end of her blond pony tail.
	“You passed all the tests.  You're a nice guy.  You're intelligent.  You're polite.  You're not agressive.  Oh, and one other requirement.  You have to be a virgin.  That's to protect me, and any future guys.  And you have to be of canine or pure human genetics.  One thing I do not want is a kitten.”
	“My goal is to help guys be better lovers, kinder to women, considerate of their needs, and so on.  Like I said, I learned very quickly when I started dating what guys who aren't that way are like.  And they make the women around them miserable.  I want you, and your future women, to be happy, healthy, and  well-sexed.”
	This was quite a speech.  I had never thought of Chrissy as the type to take on a “project” like this.  
	“So when did you find out all about sex?”  I figured that was a good question.
	“Well, don't be shocked.  I learned about sexual pleasure from my sister Sassy, and she learned from a nanny we had.  And my first male partner was Jason.  He was 11 and could barely manage an erection, and I was 13, barely able to experience an orgasm.  We even made a video of it; it's around here somewhere, if you want to see it.  It's nothing fantastic; just two naked kids and a lot of fumbling around.  That happened only a couple of times, until we both realized how stupid and dangerous it was.  Now, if you want to know what Jason gets out of this, brace yourself.  He knows exactly what's going on.  And he knows that because we have a security system here that we've set up to record it all.  He gets the videos.  They never leave this house.  And he doesn't bring any girls or strangers in.  He cooperates with me, he gets the videos, and what he does with them...well, I can imagine.  The agreement is that we deal with only one person at a time, and we make sure they never tell anyone else about it.”
	“I don't have a problem promising that I won't tell anyone.  Who would I tell?  Who would believe me?  This is such a fantastic experience, so far.  It's not over, is it?”
	“Oh, no.  You're still a virgin, aren't you?  I told you I'd fix that.”
	She rose from the table.  My eyes followed her every movement.
	“Let's put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, clean up the kitchen...and then we'll clean up ourselves, OK?”  She winked at me.  I don't think a girl had ever done that, before.  Such a little thing.
	“Sure thing.”
	It only took a few minutes to load the dishwasher, clean the table, stove, and sink, and quickly sweep the floor.  I don't know how much help I was.  I kept watching the study in motion that was Chrissy.
	When I put away the broom, Chrissy took off her apron and hung it in the pantry.  Then, naked as she had been the night before, she took my hand and led me into the bathroom between our bedrooms.  She turned around, jerked my shorts down, and giggled.  At least she hadn't done it on the playground or in the school hall!  And I guess it was pretty funny.  Of course, Hermy was showing that he was very interested in what was going on.  He was pointing straight up.
	Without my shorts on, I realized I had a pretty funky odor, too.
	“Did you notice the huge shower we have in here?”
	“I guess I saw it.  I didn't think about it, particularly.”
	“Well, I'm not sure what my folks were thinking when they finished out the basement, but this is one fun feature.  Multiple shower heads, plenty of hot water, an air dryer.  Lots of fun.  Let's get wet!”
	With that, she opened the door and stepped in the shower.  She went to a control panel and pressed a number of buttons and turned several knobs.  The result was nice, hottish water from three different shower heads.  She got under one and pushed me to the next one.  She showed me where the soap and shampoo dispensers were.  I started to lather up, but then she backed up to me.
	“Wash me, please,” she said over her shoulder. 
	“Uh...all of you?”
	“Yeah.  That way, I'll be as clean as you want me to be.  Later, I'll be as dirty as I want to be.  OK?”
	“OK, but I don't have any experience at washing another person.  Let me know if I'm not doing it right!”
	She aimed the shower she had been under at her front, and got under my shower head with me, facing away from me.  I dispensed some soap into my hands and started rubbing it around on her back.  She turned this way and that to help me reach all over.
	“You sure you want me to wash everything?”  
	“Yeah.  I told you girls like to know you appreciate and like all of them, even if some parts are more attractive than others.  So I want you to wash it all.”
     	 had never touched anyone else's armpits, but I did it now. 
	I started at Chrissy's neck.  I made sure she was good and wet, because I noticed the directionality of her fur was less of a factor when it was soaked.  I worked down her back, being sure to get the sides, too.  I ran my soapy hands down her hips.  Man, that was a pleasing shape!  Then I went back to the middle of her back, and carefully moved down to her butt crack.  
	“You want me to wash it all?” I asked again.  
	“Wash, yes.  That part gets dirty and needs to be washed, too.”
	So I rubbed the soap down her crack.  I had NEVER touched another person there, and it was both weird and pleasurable at the same time.  I applied plenty of soap and washed her butt cheeks, then moved back to the middle and went right on down the crack.  I felt her anus, and I washed it, but I tried not to concentrate on it excessively.  I found, with my soapy right hand, that it wasn't very far from there to her vagina and vulva.  She leaned over forward, reaching out her hands to the wall, to allow me to get at it all better.  I soaped it all up well, then did my best to wash up all the lips, openings, bumps, etc.  Not surprisingly, my penis was longing for a thorough, warm, soapy washing, too!
	Chrissy turned around and gave me one of her heart-warming smiles.  Something else was getting warm, too!  She raised her arms over her head and stepped toward me.  
	“More to wash,” she said, and gave me a quick kiss.
	So, more soap.  I started at her shoulders again, and worked my way down again.  Armpits.  Check.
	Oops.  Breasts.  Yeah, I washed them.  Probably more than they needed to be washed, but, oh, well.  And I played with them some.  She didn't seem to mind.  First, I turned her into the Tijuana Brass “Whipped Cream” album cover.  (My dad has the album in his collection, and I had ...  um ... “admired” it often, usually by myself.)  Then two snow-topped mountains.  Then a double-dip vanilla ice cream sundae, with pink mariscino cherries showing through.
	Finally, I continued on down.  Abdomen.  Check.  Ticklish belly button.  Check.  Then, I washed the important parts, again.  Yeah, I figured that was a good idea.  And she didn't seem to mind.
	“Now it's my turn,” she said.  Again, that smile.
	She turned me around and did my back, starting at my shoulders.  Guess what, my armpits are ticklish!  She discovered that.  Down my back and sides.  My butt cheeks.  Then the moment of truth.  My butt crack and butt.  But she did it, with nary a problem.  
	Suddenly, she pulled me close to her, my back to her front.  She washed down the front, much as I had her, but with far fewer detours.  She finally got to my “important parts.”  She applied soap liberally.  Then she did some exploring of her own.  She hefted my testes.  She gently felt around each one of “the boys.”  She carefully washed all around them.  
	Eventually, she got to washing the shaft, which was standing at full attention by that time.  Imagine, if you will, what it would be like getting this kind of attention when you'd never even seriously kissed a girl before yesterday!  Unfortunately, it took only a few soapy strokes before the system fired again.  The white, ropey substance was quickly washed away, but it took a little longer for my legs to stop trembling.
	“Woops.  Sorry about that, Johnny.”  Chrissy again winked at me, and giggled.
	We each finished up our own washing, including our hair.
	“All done?” asked Chrissy, and turned off the water with one button.  With another, she started a dryer blowing warm air over us.  The air stream got stronger and stronger, until we were completely dry.  I had heard about such a luxury, but I'd never seen one before.  We stepped out of the shower with no need for towels.  Clean, fluffy, and ready for more fun!
	“I promised to make a man of you, didn't I, Johnny?” Chrissy flashed me a flirtatious smile.
	“You said you would cure my virginity, if that's what you mean.  I guess you haven't exactly done that yet.”  I was hoping I hadn't already blown my chance at it.
	“OK.  So, since we're all clean, we washed away all the slippery stuff.  We have to replace it before we can get you fully initiated into adulthood.  Ready?”
	“Oh, yes.  Just tell me what to do.  You haven't disappointed me yet!  I never realized there was so much a couple could do without actual sex.”
	“Couples, even ones who have been together a long time, need to use something called 'foreplay.'  It's like what we did last night, but it usually doesn't take as long.  Let's get in here and get started, because 'play' means 'fun!'”
	She took me by the paw and led me to her bed.  I expected frilly, but it was anything but.  It might have been as utilitarian as my own bed at home.  She threw back the covers, sat down on the edge, and patted the bed beside her.  I took the indicated place.
	“First, some serious kissing and groping.  Well, not groping, exactly, but stimulation all over the body.  And you're very good at kissing, Johnny.  Show me what you've learned!”
	I reached around her and pulled her gently closer to me.  I started kissing her neck, below her chin.  I let my hands wander over her soft, clean fur.  I slowly worked the kisses up to her muzzle, then her lips.  I brought my right hand to her breast, and I pushed my tongue into her mouth.  She let out a little sigh, and responded with her own tongue.
	She, in turn, put her arms around me and also ran her gentle fingers up and down my  chest and back, from my neck all the way down to my butt cheeks in the back and my belly button in the front.  Assuming she was doing what she enjoyed having done to her, I did the same, with frequent stops at a breast or two.  
	After a few minutes of this, I sneaked my finger down into that wonderful slit and ran it up and down once.  Still mostly dry.  I returned to my other areas of interest.
	On the second try, a few minutes later, I found the velvet slipperyness was beginning to return.  
     Chrissy pulled away from a kiss and looked in my eyes.
	“Johnny, I'm going to ask you to do something.  You don't have to if you don't want to, but I hope you will, because I really like it.”  She waited for a reply.
	“I assume if you like it, other girls will, so I'm willing to try most anything.”  What horrible experience awaited me?
	“Good thinking.  I'm sure you'll find you're right, too.  I want you to get down on your knees on the floor, facing me.”
	I did it.  I noticed I had a great, eye-level view of “Little Pussy.”  I liked it, already.
	“OK, come closer.”  She reached down and spread her slit open, to the now-familiar view.
	Then, without warning, she grabbed my ears and pulled my muzzle right up to Little Pussy!  The familiar smell was exhilerating!
	“Now, please start licking it!”  She sounded a little breathless.
	I slowly extended my tongue.  As soon as I touched the slit, she released my ears and returned her fingers to it.  She spread it open, so that I could easily get my tongue in between the lips.  She gave a little jump when I got my muzzle all the way against it.  Cold nose, remember?
	I gave it a little lap, and the shudder I felt in the muscles around the area told me she liked the feeling.  
	I backed out a little, and looked up at her.  And I licked my chops.  She giggled, and grabbed my ears again.
	“Tell me if I'm not doing it right, or anything,” I mumbled to her.  I hoped she understood, because my tongue seemed to be busy.
	I explored the whole area with my tongue, being sure to give lots of attention to the nubbin at the top.  The taste was...interesting, but not disagreeable.  In a very few minutes, Chrissy stared rocking her pelvis forward and back.  She had a firm hold on my ears, and, judging by her grip, she was getting closer and closer to a climax.
	Suddenly, her grip tighted on my ears and she pulled me even tighter to herself.  I extended my tongue into her vagina, and I felt the rhythmic contractions I had felt with my fingers last night.  Then, she suddenly let go of my ears and scooted back across the bed.  She grabbed my arms and pulled me up onto the bed, too.
	She spread her legs, giving me a fantastic view of Little Pussy.  She pulled me on top of her, grabbing my now firmly erect and dribbling Hermy.  She lifted her knees, and pulled Hermy into contact with her vagina.  
	I couldn't help it.  I thrust into her, hard.  Well, I thought it was hard.  She didn't seem to notice anything unusual.  I thrust into her again and again and again.  She wrapped her legs around me, and pulled me to her chest as hard as she could.  There was some moaning going on; I'm not sure which of us, that was.  My orgasm was swift and strong, leaving me breathless, too.  Finally, we subsided into silence and exhaustion, again.
	I felt some tickly sensations around Hermy.  I realized he was going back to his normal, non-erect size and withdrawing from Little Pussy.  I rolled off Chrissy, not wanting to make her too uncomfortable from my weight.  She looked over at me, and kissed me gently on the nose.
	“So, do you feel like a man, now?”  She grinned.
	“I'm not sure what a man feels like, but that was really great.”
	“Well, if you're ever with a girl for her first time, that's a good way to get her ready.  Still, go slow; that first thrust can be truly painful for her.”
	“Yeah, I've heard that.  In fact, I heard someone say the two most disappointing moments in life are a girl's first experience with sex, and a boy's first taste of beer.”  
	“Probably true.  Have you tasted beer?”  
	I wondered if this counted as “pillow talk.”
	“Yeah, my dad let me taste his beer, one time.”
	“And?”
	“Well, when I tasted it, I remembered having read an article one time about some beer experts choosing the best and worst beers in America.  They said Corona was the worst widely-available beers in the country.  In fact, one of them said, after the panel taste tested it, that he was pretty sure that before the horse died, it had diabetes.”
	“Ewwww.  Where would you read an article like that?”
	“Um, I don't remember.  Maybe Playboy?  Sounds like something they'd do.”
	“So you read Playboy for the articles?”
	“Only after I look at all the girls.  And read the cartoons and jokes.”
	“Oh, good.  My faith in you is restored.  Ready to go again?”
	“You're willing to?”  I thought she might have considered her “job” finished.
	“Oh, definitely.  That was the 'missionary position.'  I think you'll find the missionaries were missing out on a lot of enjoyment.”  Man, that smile made my heart (and other parts) warm up!
	I lifted myself up on my elbow, leaned over, and kissed her.  Then I kissed her nipples, one after the other.  Then I started working my way down to her bellybutton, which I also kissed.
	“Want to see the results of your handiwork?” she asked.
	“What do you mean?”  I was puzzled.  I hoped she didn't mean I had hurt her.
	“Just this.”  She lifted her knees and spread them apart.  “Take a look.”
	I sat up and looked at Little Pussy.  A slow stream of white, thick liquid was dribbling out.  
	“Your first 'cream pie.'”
	“Oh, sorry about that.”
	“Don't be,” she smiled.  I expected it.  “In fact, I wanted it.”
	“Now, the good news is, the sooner we go again, the more pleasure I'll get out of it, and the longer it will last for you.  Ready?”
	I looked down at Hermy, happily signaling his readiness.
	“Yup.  What next?”
	“You've heard of doggy style, right?”  She winked again.  That wink!
	“Yeah.  Is that a dig at me?”  I was pretty sure it wasn't.
	“Nope.  And, amazingly enough, it's a lot like kitty style!”  She rolled over and got on her hands and knees, facing away from me.  The view was much better than it had been in my nightmare, and this was REAL!!!
	I got up on my knees and moved closer to her.  She sagged her back down, so her nether regions were better displayed.  Then she spread her knees, so I could get closer.  I came up behind her and slid Hermy right in.  She was still slick.  Slick, and warm, and inviting.   She looked back at me over her shoulder and said, “Go for it!”  She was right.  This was an entirely different feeling from the previous position.
	I grabbed her her hips and and pulled her closer.  The combination of my thrusting and pulling made for a pretty vigorous stroke.  She was right, too.  I didn't feel the urgent intensity I had earlier, and had time to enjoy the view of me entering her, and then sliding partway back out.  
	This went on for a number of minutes.  (Yeah, I know some people claim sex goes on for hours.  Not true.  Believe me on this one.)  One interesting thing I discovered was the way, when she was in that position, that her breasts swung.  I couldn't resist grabbing them every so often.  She didn't seem to mind at all.
	Eventually, I started to feel a “different” sensation around the base of my penis.  It wasn't anything I had ever felt before.   It felt like it was growing larger.  Chrissy seemed to be noticing it, too.  She had started to give a little gasp at the end of each thrust.  She seemed to be really enjoying it.  In fact, she enjoyed it so much, she suddenly growled and...well, I would almost say yowled, and went into the paroxysms and spasms of another orgasm.  That, of course, set me off again.  She slowly stretched back out on her stomach, with Little Pussy and Hermy giving each other slowly diminishing thrusts and contractions.
	After a few moments of catching her breath, Chrissy wiggled free of me and turned me on my back.
	“I thought so!” she exclaimed.
	“What?  What?” I asked.
	“You're one of the fairly rare canine hybrids that still has a rudimentary knot!”
	“Really?  I've never seen that before, except in old furry porn.  What's the deal?”  I was turly shocked.
	“Well, it has a real purpose in the orignal canines.  It helps ensure pregnancy.  But it doesn't have a use in canine/human hybrids, except...um...it seems to  increase pleasure for the females.  But it works like that for canine hybrid girls, feline hybrid girls (like me), and pure human girls.  It's one of those popular developments.  It doesn't get as large as it does on real dogs.  It just stimulates the girls a little more.  And it doesn't appear until you're well involved in actual sex, which is why you didn't know about it.  I've only seen pictures before, but I noticed there, when you'd been going a while in that position, it suddenly felt a lot different.  Better.”  She looked down at Hermy, who was now shrinking, again.
	And, in fact, I saw two small swellings, less than acorn-sized, shrinking on the sides of my penis, close to the base.
	As I was looking at it, Chrissy leaned over and took Hermy in her mouth.  Her active tongue applied some really interesting  tickles, and he began to grow again.  But the swellings continued to shrink.  Not too surpring I had never seen them before.  Clearly, it took a fair length of time to expand them.
	“I want to try another position,” said Chrissy.  
	“Show me what you want,” was all I could say.
	She stretched out on the bed on her left side.  Her left leg was in a line with her body, but she pulled her right knee up, almost to her breasts.
	“Now, I want you to get on your knees, straddling my left leg.”
	I did that.  She directed me to keep scooting up closer to her, until Hermy was almost touching her.
     “Keep moving up,” she said.  
	I scooted still closer.  She directed Hermy between her legs, and finally into Little Pussy.  And still she pulled me closer, until my left knee was behind her back, my right knee was under her right leg, and my pubic area was against her lower butt.  
	“I think this will work.  I've read about it before.  Some people call it the 'Pretzel Dip.'  I want Hermy as deep in me as you can get him, and I want you to thrust as deep as you can.”
	The position did seem to give me a very deep penetration.  A side benefit was that as I was thrusting, I got to see her breasts moving in a fascinating rhythm to our activity.  I reached down and fondled them, every little while.
	It did seem like I was lasting longer than previous times.  I'm sure that going again right after the previous time helped that.  However, I really liked the feeling of my balls brushing against the soft fur on her inner thigh.  I began to understand how different positions could assist the enjoyment for each partner.
	Thrust, thrust, thrust.  I kept going as hard as I could, and Chrissy kept encouraging me.  She kept her right hand on my chest, and stroked it regularly.
	Thrust, thrust, thrust.  I began to feel the odd feeling that I now knew was my “knot” (actually swellings on each side of my shaft, near the base) growing in size.  As it swelled, Chrissy began showing signs of increased stimulation.  First she began to rock with my thrusts.  Then she started moaning.  I wanted to be sure I wasn't hurting her, but she didn't seem to be in any pain.  But I did watch carefully.  
	At least, I watched carefully, until the moans became almost a growl, then closer to a howl, and finally she broke into “chuffs” and ... well, if she were canine in descent, I'd say barks.  She rocked back and forth, then said repeatedly, “Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop.”  And then, to my amazement, she broke out in tears.
	And, at that point, I again felt the rythmic, stong throbs and squeezes on Hermy, and I knew that she was experiencing a powerful orgasm.  That brought me to a peak, too.  
	I DID howl!
	She descended into sobs, and gasps, and then peals of laughter.  I collapsed off her, and next to her.  I hadn't realized I was breathing as heavily as I was, and it took a few minutes to calm down.
	I cuddled up behind her again, took my familiar grip on one breast, and in a minute or two, I heard her start softly snoring.  And I'm willing to bet I followed her only a few seconds later.
    
The Sleepover, Part 5
	An hour or so later, Crissy started stirring, waking me up.   
	“Time to get up?” I mumbled
	“Yeah, it's nearly noon.  “Let's get up and get something accomplished before Jason gets home.
	“OK.  What do you wanna do?”  If she didn't have any ideas, I did.
	“Let's get up and throw the sheets from this bed and your bed in the washer.  Then we can take a shower, get dressed, and maybe go eat lunch.”
	“Sounds reasonable to me.  I'll go get my sheets.  Where's the washer?”
	“It's in the pantry area by the kitchen.”
	I picked my shorts up off the floor, again.  Funny how they weren't staying on very well.  My sheets were fairly rumpled, and I was sure they didn't smell great, so I pulled them off, pulled up the blankets, and carried the sheets into the pantry.  Chrissy had her sheets and added them to the washer.  I headed into the bathroom, peed, and took a look in the mirror.  Chrissy walked in, hanging up on a call on her phone.  
	“I need to show you how to start the shower, I guess,”  she said.  She put the phone on the counter and got in the shower.  “The first set of buttons controls the water temperature.  Around 100 is a good place to start, but most people like it a little warmer than that.  The second set of buttons chooses which shower heads to turn on, up to 3.  The third set of buttons controls the actual pressure.  Some people like a gentle rain, and others want it so strong it feels like it will take your skin off.  The last set of buttons actually turns it on and off, so that you can stop it all with one push.  If you're the only one using the shower, you don't have to reset it all every time.  And this last knob turns on the dryer.  Want to set it up for yourself?”
	“OK.”  I went through the settings, and started the shower.  Chrissy stepped out and used the toilet, then came back in.
	The shower was as much fun as it had been the morning before (The Sleepover, Part 4).  And, of course, the view of Chrissy nude was enough to get my heart going.  We did the washing-each-other thing again.  I don't think I'll ever be able to take a shower again without thinking about that!
	After the dry cycle, we went in our respective rooms and got dressed.  I would rather have gone in her room and watched her dress, but she told me it wasn't a specator sport, today.  Fooey.
	I was in the living room when she emerged.  
	“What would you like for a meal?” she asked.  “You probably know as well as I do what's available.”
	“Well, I haven't got a lot of cash.  Someplace inexpensive would be a good idea.”  I hadn't expected to have to buy a serious meal, so I only had 20 bucks or so.
	“Don't worry about it.  You've earned whatever you want.  How about a Texas Road House steak?”  
	I wasn't sure what she meant by “earning it,”  but I was a carnivore.  Meat sounded good.
	“OK.  I'm in for it.”  
	We went up the stairs, out the back door, and got in the red Toyota.  She backed out of the driveway, turned left, and headed to the nearby Texas Road House. 
	“So, how are you enjoying your weekend?” she asked.  Again, with a wink.  “Are you enjoying watching Jason practice baseball, eating pizza, and playing games?”
	“Yes.  And if this is a test, that's my story, and I'm sticking to it!”
	“Good, good.  Just prepping you for the type of questions that might come up some time in the future.”
	She pulled into the Road House parking lot, quickly found a parking spot (since it was pretty early in the afternoon), and put the Toyota in it.  She handled a car as well as any guy I knew.
	In the restaurant, we were quickly seated.  Chrissy had requested a back corner, so we were out of the flow of things.  We sat in the booth, across the table from each other.  I loved the view across the table!
	We ordered what we wanted.  I wanted a good steak, not too large, medium rare.  Chrissy ordered a small sirloin, rare.  We both asked for Diet Cokes.  
	After the Cokes arrived, and while we waited for our food, we did a little talking.  Let me tell you up front, I've never been one who found it easy to talk to the girls, so this was a learning experience for me.
	“Do you have any questions?” Chrissy asked.  
	“Well, yeah, of course.”  It was almost funny.  “What happens next?”
	“Understand,” she explained, “this is not about love.  Usually, girls will give you sex for security and romance.  Guys give girls romance and security for sex.  It's a trade-off, in most cases.  In this instance, I'm giving you sex for my entertainment and your education.  I want you to be a better man.  I want you to understand what women expect, and what they can give you in return.  After this weekend, don't call me.  Don't act any different toward me.  Don't act any different toward Jason.  If I want to see you again, I'll have Jason contact you.  It happens.  The supply of nice guys who are virgins and open-minded and who otherwise meet my requirements isn't immense.”
	“Who else have you 'trained?'” I asked, figuring I wouldn't get an answer.
	“I can't and won't give you names.  But here's a teaser.  After tomorrow, you will probably be able to discern the guys who I have had here.  You won't be able to tell which ones Jason has brought home and who left without even kissing me, but you'll be able to tell which ones at least gave up their virginity.”
	“Do you know if you've been successful with these guys?  I mean, do you keep track of us, or what?”  The idea made me a little uneasy, for some reason.
	“Oh, you know, girls talk.  And I know a lot of the girls in your school.  Yeah, I hear reports, occasionally.  Some girls know what I've been doing.  Most appreciate it, whether they actually know, or not.  Teen sex is not all that easy, and anything that makes life easier for young people is good.”  
	She broke off, because our food arrived.
	Observing her eat made it clear that she had excellent manners.  I tried not to embarrass her or myself.  Yeah, I know good manners, but that doesn't mean I always remember to wipe my mouth before taking a drink, and all that stuff.  
	The meal was really good, and, of course, the company was even better.  It occrred to me that learning how to just talk to a girl you find attractive might be one of the more important lessons of the weekend.
	When we had finished and Chrissy had paid (and I insisted on putting down a generous tip), we went out, got in the car, and headed back to the house.  It was about 3:30, and Jason would be home around 5:30, so we still had a little time.  I hoped Chrissy had some plans, but I really wasn't in a position to push.
	When we got back to the downstairs apartment, it turned out that Chrissy did, indeed, have some plans.  She put an easy-listending station on the radio, and sat on the couch.  
	“Come and sit by me,” she said, patting the couch beside her.  I did as requrested.  “I just want to cuddle a little bit,” she said.
	“Fine by me.”  Well, I might have liked more, but, you know, beggers and all that.
	“I want you to know how to just be a little romantic, Johnny.  I know it doesn't come naturally for you guys, but it's really important to know how to make a girl feel happy and relaxed.  You'll never get there by just groping and pawing.  I showed you some of that last night, but even that was closer to the end game of actual sex.  You have to start out slow.  You have to impress her with your manners.  Open doors for her, including the car door.  Yeah, I know it seems like no one does that any more, but it's still important.
	“And hold her hand.  Put your arm around her when you're walking.”
	“Is there a way to tell if she wants me to do any of that?”
	“If you treat her right on your first date, and she accepts a second date, she will let you hold her hand, etc.  If she kisses you good night after the second date, then you should be ready to proceed.  Always assume that this is the girl that you will spend the rest of your life with.  Treat her like you would like another guy to treat your sister.”
	And with that, she leaned over and kissed me, gently.  I put my arm around her, and she snuggled in closer.  I kissed the top of her head, right between the two upright ears.  She leaned ever closer, breathing on my neck.  Yes, it tickled.  Yes, I loved it.  Once again, I picked up her legs and put them across mine, so she was literally sitting in my lap.  She cuddled up close, her head under my chin.  I wrapped my arms around her, and just enjoyed the great smell of her hair, her warm breath on my chest, and the occasional twitch of her ear under my chin, enjoying the soft music in the background.
	We  might even have fallen asleep, but the slam of two car doors brought us to wakefulness.  Chrissy slid off my lap, straightened up her clothes, and turned off the radio, and went out in the kitchen.  I heard two voices, one male and one female, coming down the stairs.  The door opened and a girl I vaguely remembered as Sassy, Chrissy's older sister, came in, closely followed by Jason.  (NOTE:  As mentioned in an earlier episode, Sassy's name is actually Sassinak.  Look it up.  Chrissy was two years older than Jason, and Sassy was two years older than Chrissy.)
	“Phew, I'm sweaty,” said Jason.  “I'm going to take a shower.”  He crossed the living room to his bedroom and went in, closing the door behind him. 
	Sassy walked into the kitchen and hugged Chrissy.  A quick, low conversation ensued, with the occasional glance in my direction.  I had to admit I was curious what was going on.
	Chrissy motioned me over to where they were standing.
	“I hope you don't mind, but I told Sassy that you are a real gem.  We have a deal that when I discover a guy like that, I tell her about him.  When she can, she drives down the three hours from the university and I let her take him for a test drive, so to speak.  So later this evening, you will get a chance to learn about another woman.  Are you OK with that?”  
	“How can I complain?  This has been a real fantasy weekend, so far.”  I hated to be so honest, but hey, I came in a virgin, right?  
	“OK, after dinner and after Jason goes to bed, we'll make our arrangements.”  Chrissy winked.  Could I ever get tired of that?
	After Jason came out of his room, newly washed and refreshed, Chrissy and Sassy made pizza.  Pizza twice in one weekend?  Why not?  They each made a large pizza, but that's where the similarity ended.  Sassy made a thin-crust pizza that featured anchovies (figures, cats and fish), tuna (never saw that before), catnip, and cheese.  No, feline hybrids are not affected much by catnip, but it is a minty taste that they like.  Chrissy made a thick-crust pizza that featured hamburger, feta cheese, bleu cheese, and jalapenos.  Again, flavors that were not particularly familiar to me, but the combination was good.  They said they liked to experiment, and only occasinally had to throw away the results!
	We finished off the pizzas, although we were running out of steam toward the end.  Then we watched a little TV.  We watched until Saturday Night Live was on, and it was the usual political drivel, so we turned it off.  Jason had already gone to bed, saying he had practice again early.  (I am SO glad I didn't try out for any of the teams!)
	I headed into my room, and Sassy followed me.  She closed the door (but I noticed she didn't lock it).  Then she walked over and sat on the edge of the bed.
	“OK, boy, take it off.  Take it off.  Take it all off!”  I recognized the old razor advertisement.  Maybe Gillette?   At any rate, she wanted me to stand in front of her and take my clothes off.  You never know nervousness until a person you barely know wants to watch you strip.  What if she didn't approve of boxers, or white socks, or whatever?
	But I did what she told me.  First, I took off my T shirt.  Nothing special.  Pink Floyd “Dark Side of the Moon.”  Got it from my dad.
	Then my shoes.  My socks.  (No words of disapproval or disgust, so far.)  My blue jeans.  Then, the final piece...my underwear.  I stood in front of her, nude.
	“OK, now I'll return the favor.”  She had me sit on the edge of the bed, and she did the same routine.  Again, nothing much out of the ordinary.  I noticed she wore a pink bra and panties.  That was interesting because, whereas Chrissy had just one black ear and a few stray black spots on her fur, Sassy was almost exactly half black.  Her left side was white, with a pink nipple and a pink lip on her vulva, and her right side was almost entirely black, with a black nipple, and a black lip on her vulva.  She was black all the way down to her right foot, although the toes were white.
	One difference between Sassy and Chrissy is that Sassy's breasts were a little larger, and her hips were more rounded that Chrissy's.  Less of an athlete, more of a philosopher, I guess.  I had noticed earlier she was just a little taller than Chrissy, maybe 5 feet 4 inches.
	When she had kicked off her panties, she came over to me and kissed my forehead.  Then she sat down next to me.
	“I know this is a little awkward, but keep in mind I'm just here for the sex.  I'm not here to take you away from a girlfriend, or steal your heart away.  I'd just like to have a little sexual release.  Are you OK with that?”
	“Oh, yes, that was my understanding.  I'm not sure what Chrissy told you, but all I want to do is learn about sex and have some fun.”  
	“Well, I know Chrissy tries to teach you guys about foreplay, etc.  I'm not averse to a little groping and giggling, but I do eventually want to get to the orgasm.  Several times, if possible.  Now, I could do that with one of my toys, but I want to help you get some enjoyment, too.  Ready?”
	“Yes, ma'am.”   
	She gave me a funny look, then pushed me backwards on the bed.  
	“Get your head on the pillow, and your feet down by the foot of the bed.”
	I did it.  She got on the bed on her knees, then put her right leg over me, straddling my body.  She backed up until her vulva was just in front of my muzzle.
	“Do you know what to do to that thing, with your tongue?”
	“Yes, I believe I do.” I stuck my nose briefly in her vagina.  She gasped.  (Cold doggy nose, remember?  That surprise never gets old.)  Then I began to run my tongue up and down her slit, being sure to give plenty of attention to the nub that I now knew to be her clitoris.  After I had made a few laps (so to speak), I felt a warm and slippery sensation on my penis.  I realized that I was experiencing the famous “69” position, and Hermy was in her mouth.  
	I found that I could just reach her breasts, so I put a little attention in on them, as well as running my hands over all the body I could touch.  I could touch her butt, too.  I was enjoying myself, and I guess she was, too, because I began to feel that familiar pulsing in her vagina.  I stuck my tongue in there, and it was definitely getting active.  Also, I noticed that there was a lot of that “liquid velvet” gathering on her labia.   
	“How are you doing down there?” I asked.
	“Mmmmmm-mmmm,” was all the answer I got.  
	After a few more minutes, I could tell we were both getting close to an orgasm.  I heard her gasping, and her attentions to Hermy seemed to be more and more intense.   I heard a long moan, and then her vagina started pulsing rapidly.  Bingo!
	“Look out, I'm about to do it!” I said to her.  She kept sucking, and I felt the familiar electric ring climb my penis, until it reached the tip and I knew I was ejaculating.  Sassy kept right on sucking.  Well, at least she couldn't say I didn't give her a warning.  I've heard that's a real faux pas.
	We subsided into pants and gasps, relaxing from the initial thrill.  Eventually, Sassy rolled off me, turned around, and lay next to me, resting her head on my chest.  I thought she might be going to sleep.   She wasn't.
	“That was an excellent first go,” she said.  “Ready to start over?”
	“Sure.  How do you want to do it?”
	“Let's try the classic missionary position.  But not immediately.  Pay some attention to my body.”  
	I wasn't sure what she wanted, but I was more than willing to pay some attention to that gorgeous body.  She rolled over on her back, next to me, and I began running my hands over her skin.  Her fur was about as soft as Chrissy's, but she had a little more “padding” under it.  It gave her skin a very supple feel, like gliding your hand over a wave at the lake, maybe.  Hard to describe.  I did as Chrissy taught me, and felt all over her body.  I kissed her all over her body, too.  She especially liked being kissed under her chin.   And under her breasts, too.  
	And eventually, of course, I kissed her belly button.  She reached down and took my hand, and put it on her breast.  I took this to mean she wanted more intimate attention.  First I thoroughly studied her breasts with my hand, and then with my mouth.  I found the black nipple tasted exactly like the pink one.  
	Next, I sneaked a quick feel of her vulva.  It was getting slippery again, and she was starting to breath a little faster.  I played around down there for a minute or two.  Then, she pulled me on top of her as she spread her legs.
	She helped guide Hermy into her vagina.  Then she wrapped her legs around me, pulling me as close as possible.  I started thrusting into her more vigorously.
	“Here,” she said, holding up her hands to me.  “Take my wrists and hold my hands above my head.  It's a little fantasy thing, and I've never seen any girl who doesn't like it now and then.”
	So I took her wrists and held them over her head.  I was afraid of hurting her, so I did it as gently as possible, but she did seem to like it.  She closed her eyes, and from what I've heard, she was probably fantasizing some hairy-chested Duke taking his unwilling Duchess, with lots of “heaving bosom” and “throbbing manhood” thrown in by some romance writer.  Hey, Chrissy told me women were more complicated than men.
	It wasn't too long before, once again, I could feel an orgasm approaching.  I told Sassy, and she just nodded.  Her movements got jerkier, and more frantic, until I again felt the telltale throbbing in her vagina, which set me off again.  After the first several spurts, the force of my thrusts slowly waned.  I released her wrists and collapsed on my left side, next to her.  She rolled on her left side, and we spooned together for a few minutes.
	“You are certainly a real find, as Chrissy told me,” she murmured.  “It's been a while since I've had two orgasms that close together.”
	“So I'm doing something right, I guess,” I replied, quietly.
	She moved my hand to her breast, again.  I assumed she wanted some more attention, and I gladly gave it.  I don't think I could ever refuse the offer of a soft breast with an erect nipple.  
	In just a few minutes, Sassy was showing interest in more attention.  I checked her vulva, and sure enough, it was getting slippery again.
	“I want you to use that position Chrissy showed you.  You know, the pretzel one.”  
	I had a suspicion I knew why.  And why not?  
	“OK, pull your right leg up,” I instructed.  
	She did so.  I got on my knees and straddled her left leg.  I slid up until my now-erect penis slid inter her vagina.  I began thrusting gently; for this to work right, it took longer than our previous efforts.   
	As I was working, I kneaded Sassy's breasts and otherwise stroked her body and stimulated her parts.  They say you never know what little erogenous zone will do the magic trick for a woman, so try them all.
	After about 15 minutes of gentle thrusting, I began to feel the swelling of the small, vestigial canine knot.  It made it feel like Sassy's vagina was getting tighter.  Because of our “twisted” (hence “the pretzel”) position, the knot was hitting her clitoris on each thrust.  It didn't take long after that for Sassy to again begin the gasping and moaning that indicated another orgasm, and I quickly joined her in the ecstasy.
	After so much exercise, we were both worn out.  I lay back down behind Sassy, spooning her again, one of her breasts in my hand.  Soon, we were dead to the world.  But not so dead that I didn't feel it when Chrissy came and got in the bed, too, spooning me from behind.  What a stack of happy spoons! 
************
	When I woke up, I was alone in the bed, again.  I always thought I was a light sleeper, but these ladies had repeatedly gotten out of bed without waking me.  I stretched and checked my morning wood.  Yep, still there.  Using it hadn't worn it out, or anything.  I lay there for a few minutes, letting the swelling go down (by not thinking about Chrissy or Sassy, mainly).  When I could get up without sporting a kickstand, I did so.  The bathroom was vacant, so performed my morning necessaries, put my shorts on, and walked out into the dining area.  As usualy, Jason was nowhere in sight.
	But Chrissy and Sassy were there.  Both in aprons, and both starkers under them.  Man, that was a sight I could get used to.  They both turned to me, winked in unison (so it must be a family habit), smiled sunny smiles, and went back to their breakfast preparation.  Chrissy was handling the bacon and sausage, and Sassy was in charge of the pancakes.  These ladies would spoil me in every way, if I was around here all the time.  But, of course, that wasn't going to happen.  
	“Can I help you ladies?  Need the table set?”  My mother taught me not to be a lump when I was visiting.
	“That would be great!” beamed Chrissy.  “The plates are next to the refrigerator, and the silverware's in the drawer beside the sink.”
	I got the tableware out and put it in place.  By the time I was done with that, the ladies were dishing out the breakfast.  They turned off the stove, put the pans in safe positions, and sat down at the table.  I let them seat themselves first, since I figured they had spots they preferred.  It was a fairly small square table, so it's not like it was complicated or anything.  I sat, and we began eating.
	“Is Jason already gone to baseball practice again?” I asked.  If it took this much work to be on the team, I was glad I wasn't a sports player.  
	“Oh, yeah,” Chrissy explained.  “And most weekends, we'd both have things going on for at least some of the time.  This is just a slack weekend, early in the school year.”
	Sassy had the same good eating manners as Chrissy, which shouldn't have surprised me.  Her slightly larger breasts did swing a little more, giving me wonderful peeks at her nipples, which I enjoyed.  (And I had to keep reminding myself that I had had all four of the female nipples in that room in my mouth in the last 24 hours.)
	“So, Sassy, was he what I told you he was?”  Chrissy pulled the wink on Sassy, and I probably blushed more than a little.
	“Oh, yes, every bit.  He introduced me to some sensations I've never had before.  And that vestigial knot really hits the spot, just as you promised!”  Now I WAS blushing!
	“Uh, I take it I'm the first boy you've invited here who had that?”  It was a surprise to me, too, after all.
	“Yes, so far as we know.  And it has been almost exclusively canine hybrids that we've invited, so it's kind of a surprise to us.  We've heard about it, but never seen or experienced it.  But from what you say, apparently it never appeared to you, either.  We suspect it only shows itself after quite a long period of sexual activity at one time.”
	Yeah, that probably explained it.  When it was just me and my hand and my fantasies, quicker was better.
	“Well, now that we've had breakfast, shall we get showered?”  
	We put the breakfast dishes in the sink, then the girls had me sit in one of the kitchen chairs.  I had no idea what was coming, so I just did what they asked.  Sassy took off her apron, straddled my lap, facing me, and hugged me tightly.  Chrissy bent over next to my head, took my left ear in her and, AND BIT IT!!!!!   The pain brought tears to my eyes, and I was whimpering like a 3-year-old puppy!  I knew not to jerk my head, because that could cause my ear to tear.
	Chrissy straightened back up and released my ear from her mouth.  I saw a trickle of blood on her lips.  Then, she held out her left hand.  There were two gold rings in her open palm.  She took my ear in her right hand and made a couple of quick movements.  She released my ear, and I heard the tinkle of metal when I flipped it.  
	“OK, what was THAT all about?” I demanded.  Each girl took one of my hands and led me into the bathroom.  They turned on the light and placed me in front of the mirror.  I saw the two gold rings, about a half inch apart, and about halfway up the height of my ear.  I flipped my ear, and I saw the two rings hit each other, making a tinkling.
	“I gave you a tease yesterday that you would be able to tell which of the guys I have had in here.  I'm sure you've noticed several of your classmates wearing an earring in their left ear,” Chrissy explained.
	“Most of the guys you see will have a single gold earring.  That means I liked what he did, how he behaved, how he performed, etc.  You may see some guys with a silver earring.  That means they did OK, but not outstanding.  Maybe they just need some practice.  Maybe they were a little too shy.  Whatever.  There are a couple of guys with a brass earring.  They had some sort of problem and didn't do everything we asked of them.  Yeah, some people have their hangups.  There's even another guy who has one gold and one silver earring.  I thought he did great, but when Sassy tried him, he wasn't so great.  Maybe he just doesn't like 'older women.'”
	Oh, that smile!
	“But you, Johnny, were completely outstanding.  You did everything we asked, never tried to insist on getting your own way, you put your mouth where we asked you to, and treated us like queens.  We're sorry about hurting you, but let me assure you, those who are savvy will be impressed.”
	That gave me a warm glow.  Or maybe it was just the blood running down my cheek.
	“So lets get you thoroughly cleaned up.  We have some good antiseptic soap, and you didn't see it, but I washed my mouth out before I bit you.”  Chrissy walked over and turned on the showers.  And now I knew why there were three shower heads!
	Showering by yourself is OK, depending on what you're in there for.  Showering with a friend is a lot better, for reasons most people understand.  And showering with two friends who also happen to be very sexy ladies is a joy every boy should experience once.
	I had experience washing and being washed by Chrissy.  This was a lot of the same, but a lot more of it, to wash and be washed by both Chrissy and Sassy.  Washing backs is fun.  Washing fronts is even more fun.  Washing butts is nice.  Washing vulvas, especially two at one time, just can't be beat.  And what was even more fun is that each one of the ladies wanted another quick soap-lubricated screwing.
	But, of course, it all had to come to an end.  We ran the dryer, got out, got dressed, and said our goodbyes.  Sassy had to head back to the university, Chrissy had to drop me back at home, and I had to get busy and do the homework I had not worked on at all over the weekend.  Of course, I found myself drifting off into daydreams of the sexy kind.  Especially since Chrissy had said, as I got out of the car, “Don't be surprised if I have Jason invite you over again.”
**************
	“And that, Johnny, is how I met and fell in love with your mother.  I hope this has been more instructive than 'the talk' most fathers give their sons when they reach your age.”  In fact, he was listening in rapt attention.
	Finally, he snapped out of his somewhat shell-shocked spell and looked at me.
	“OK, that was really ...  great, although some of it comes really close to TMI.  But I do have a question.”
	“Go ahead.”
	“OK, you and I and your parents, my grandma and grandpa, are canine hybrids.”
	“Yes, that's obvious enough.”
	“And mom and Pyanfar are feline hybrids.”  (NOTE:  I let Chrissy's parents name the first girl baby.  They were still Anne McCaffrey fans.  I'll let you Google the name.  My folks and I got to name any boys.) 
	“Yes, go on.”
	“I thought canine and feline hybrids couldn't ... uh ....”
	“Interbreed?  That's correct.”
	“So, uh, where did Py and I come from?”  He looked genuinely puzzled.
	“Well, it wasn't for lack of trying.  Your mother is a...well, a lusty woman, and she has insisted on regular crossbreeding attempts, if you catch my drift.  Still does today...”
	“Ew, gross, dad.  Really TMI.”
	“Well, anyway, after much unselfish effort expended in trying to prove all the scientists and biologists wrong, we admitted defeat and looked to other avenues for building our family.”
	“So where did we come from, Dad?”
	“Well, eventually we realized there were plenty of orphaned and abandoned kittens and puppies at the animal shelter, so we just went down there and picked up you and your sister.  Much cheaper than a hospital maternity bill, too.”
	The look on his face was priceless.  He screamed, “NO!!!!” and ran to the bedroom door, flinging it open in anger and confusion.
	“MOM!!!” he yelled out the door.  “Mom, Dad says he got us at the animal shelter!”
	Chrissy hurried up the stairs, then stepped into the room, calmly, a somewhat annoyed but not angry look on her face.  
	“Are you trotting out that old animal shelter story again, just for a cheap laugh?”
	I sheepishly admitted I was.  It's not like she hadn't heard me tell it at parties and family gatherings, before.
	“Well, tell him the truth.  Tell him that we adopted him from a fine adoption service and that it cost many thousands of dollars and almost two years of jumping through their hoops to qualify, and that we love him dearly.”
	“I think you just did, dear.  Now, leave him here, close the door, and you can go back to your dinner preparations.  Let me finish up.”
	She gently pushed Jonny back into his bedroom.  He reluctantly sat on the bed next to me.  She gave me “the wink” and closed the door.
	“So...was the rest of that story true?  It all seems pretty fantastic, to me.”
	“Every word is, to the best of my recollections.  It WAS nearly 20 years ago, now.”
	“So I should believe it, and I should learn about girls from it?”  He looked a little skeptical.
	“You should.  And treating them well carries its own rewards, both short and long term.”
	“What sort of rewards?”
	“Well, I've got your mother.  And she has made me very happy.”
	“I guess that's good.  And what else?”
	“Before I married her, I had a number of fantastic girl friends, and some equally fantastic sex.”
	“That sounds good.  But that came from mom's teaching, didn't it?”
	“Yes.  On the other hand, you have your cousins, your Aunt Sassy's girls, and if they haven't taught you anything yet, I suspect they soon will.”
	He blushed a little.  “I wondered why they kept trying to get me all alone.  Maybe I shouldn't hide from them.”
	“That's up to you.  I suspect anything they teach you will be with your aunt's approval, and possibly her coaching and instruction, if I know her.”
	“Do you have anything else to show for what you claim Mom put you through?”  He still looked a little skeptical.
	I laughed, and flipped my left ear.  The two gold rings there jingled together.