Fresh air had never tasted so good. Maybe it was the spice called freedom flavoring it so perfectly. Sure, it was a stolen freedom, but it was freedom none the less. Cornelius Maxwell, age twenty-five, six foot four, two hundred and ten pounds, Great White Shark, was at last free. It had taken two years to escape from that damned prison in Lanslake, but all that effort was so worth it. However, he knew that at any time, that freedom could be taken from him again, and he would be back to serving those dozen life sentences. A growl escaped his throat then, lips pulling back to reveal his razor teeth. He would rather die than go back to that hell hole, but he’d also rather live than die, and that’s why he stifled the growl and huddled more into his stolen coat. He’d only been free for a day but he’d already traveled quite the distance. His first orders of business had been to ditch that damned orange jumpsuit he’d been wearing and get himself some clean duds. It had been simple to break into that home, much more so than he’d expected. What with every home having its own security system nowadays, he had been shocked to discover this particular house lacked one. The fools, he thought to himself. Even the farm house he’d grown up in had possessed a security system. It had been a stroke of luck that the owners had been out and that the man’s clothes had fit Cornelius almost like they’d been his own though his dorsal fin had required he alter the back of not only the shirt but the coat as well. He really didn’t want to stand out, but there was only so much that could be done to hide who he was and what he was. He could cover his scarred right eye with a cloth under a cap and he could hide the still present cuffs around his wrists with the sleeves of the coat, but his fin and his size he could not hide. He grumbled to himself at the annoyance of it. For generations his family had bred out the traits that made them solely water dwellers, such as the gills, tail and sandpaper skin, trading them in for lungs and skin that while not being soft like a baby’s bottom, was at least not abrasive enough to make someone bleed at the smallest touch. However despite this selective breeding, they had never thought to work at removing the fin that protruded from his spine between his shoulder blades. It made driving stupidly difficult without modifying the seats, made clothing a hindrance, and served no purpose in the slightest except looking dumb. Turning his mind away from such thoughts, he continued walking along the dark road leading towards a small suburb that was on the end of a small city. He didn’t know the name of the city, and didn’t really care for it was only another leg in his journey to get the hell out of this country. It was too close to Lanslake for his tastes, so he’d have to press on soon, but for tonight he needed a place to sleep. Golden eyes scanned the dark houses as he walked through the neighborhood, but his kind wasn’t made to see in the dark, so he struggled a little to tell which houses were occupied. Surely one would be empty this time of year, people leaving town for the season and what not. That was what city folk did after all, right? Vacationing where the sun was bright and hot when the homeland got cold and dark. He’d been walking for a good twenty minutes when he came to stop at a particular house that just seemed to… call to him. He wasn’t sure what it was about it, but it reminded him a lot of his home back in Lanslake which he hadn’t seen in over two years. Nostalgia or just a longing for the way things used to be had him quietly pacing up to the door, stopping to kneel to check the dates on the newspapers still on the porch. It looked like no one had been in for several days, which was pretty damn convenient for him. Scooping up the papers, he looked around, his eyes straining against the darkness. He knew there had to be a spare key somewhere. There was always a spare key left somewhere outside these suburban homes, as if people didn’t think thieves would ever pause to look for one. Sure enough, under an obviously fake rock in the flower bed by the door was a single cool metal key. Just as he was about to put the key in the lock, he stopped and thought better of it. Pocketing the key, he set down the papers and slowly walked around the house, looking for signs of life- just in case. There was no car in the driveway, no garage either, no pets, nothing. Ten minutes after finding the key, he finally unlocked the door and stepped inside, taking the newspapers with him. The house still smelled like the owners, foxes if he had to chance a guess, meaning it truly had only been a few days. He hoped they wouldn’t return while he slept, not sure how he’d react if they waltzed in suddenly. Memories assaulted him as he shut the door behind him and flicked on the light, blinking as it blinded him briefly. Memories of the men he’d killed and how he’d ended up in jail in the first place. He’d been minding his own business, walking home after a night of drinking with his buddies down at the local bar, when a group of young men, all of canine breeds, had walked up to him. He still wasn’t sure if those men had been drunk themselves, but they picked a fight with him, calling him names and laughing at how he was just a ‘fishback out of water’. Cornelius wasn’t a mean drunk, or he hadn’t been- he wasn’t sure how he’d be now, but he had not taken kindly to their insults. A fight had broken out and after knocking a couple heads together, the remaining men had drawn knives. It wasn’t too bad though, not enough to make things worse, until one of the hounds had drawn a gun. That had pissed off Cornelius. Knives he could deal with, he was a hell of a fighter, but a gun was cold, impersonal, and could blow your head off before you could react. All of them had been a little drunk though, and when Cornelius lunged, the hound’s aim had failed him. The ensuing scuffle had ended with all the men save for the shark dead and that was how the police found him, panting over their broken, bleeding bodies. Shaking his head, he quickly walked through the house, going into the kitchen and tossing the papers down on the table before checking the rest of the rooms. He found what was clearly a male’s bedroom, then what was possibly the master bedroom. He checked the closets for more clothes but the clothing was just a few sizes too small and would only make him stand out more. With a growl, he busied himself by looking for money then, very aware that he had none after using up every penny he’d found in the first house on food and tipping a man for giving him a ride. Rummaging through a set of draws found him looking through the underthings of the female variety. A stirring in his pants had him shivering a little as his fingers trailed over lace and silk, eventually pulling a few out to sniff them. Of course they only smelled like laundry detergent, so he gave a sigh and stuffed one into his pocket. It was better than nothing, and the closest he’d come to pussy in too damn long, his cock straining against his pants eagerly. He’d deal with that in a minute though as he continued his search. Sure enough he found a box under the bed that held in it around a thousand dollars in twenties. There was no telling the reason why the owner’s of the home had chosen to keep it in a box rather than put it in a bank account, but it was certainly better than not having money at all. Into his free pocket the cash went and he left the master bedroom, going back down into the kitchen. His next order of business was to check the fridge, grinning when he saw the food there. It wasn’t much, and it was clear that they hadn’t bought food just before leaving, but it was again, better than nothing. Making himself a simple cheese sandwich, he sat down at the table and opened the newspapers, eating while he read. He wanted to know what he’d missed as well as how much about him was in print. Pretty soon though he finished his sandwich and pushed the papers away, disgusted. There was a big ass photo of him in the most recent paper, the one that had been printed just that previous morning, the day after he’d escaped, and of course it gave a description of him and what he’d done. Armed and dangerous, they called him. A vicious murderer with no remorse they called him. He shook his head at that and got himself a glass of water, sipping it as he sat back down and pulled out the panties he’d snagged earlier. They were black with lacy edges, quite sexy, and if the photos around the home suggested true, they belonged to the woman of the house and she wasn’t all that bad to look at. Staring at her photo- with her standing happily with her husband- while stroking his cock with her panties would have been a bit too creepy even for his tastes, so he simply ignored the photos as he unfastened his pants. When he opened them, his cock sprung free, glistening with moisture at the tip. Like all of his species, his cock usually stayed up inside him in a nearly pussy-like slit at his groin, but he was more than slightly aroused so his full length had slid free of that slit to throb thick, long and heavy. He groaned as he wrapped the panties around his cock and slowly stroked himself with the silky, lacy material. How long had it been since he’d last had sex? Too long. How long since he’d last masturbated? Again too long. It was hard to get hard when you were surrounded by killers, thieves and rapists. Cornelius gave a self depreciating chuckle at that thought, having to remind himself that he was one of those killers. The blood of morons stained his hands. Pushing those thoughts aside, he closed his eyes and focused on the stroking of the cloth up and down the eight inch length of his cock. A sigh escaped him as he stroked himself, imaging the middle aged white fox woman kneeling between his legs, her hands stroking him rather than his own. It was when he pictured her begging him to cum in her mouth, opening her jaws wide for him that he came hard, staining those black panties with a thick, pearl white load of his spunk. He gave a shuddering breath then opened his eyes, looking down at the mess he’d made of them, and at his still rock hard cock. A growl escaped his throat as he dropped the ruined panties aside before rising up to stand. He made his way back to the master bedroom knowing he had a long night ahead of him. One pair just wasn’t enough to satisfy his pent up lust. When the morning came, the sun having yet to rise, Matthew the Red Fox woke to the feeling that his chest was wet. Looking down, his eyebrows went up at the adorable sight of Whisper the Loli White Tiger drooling all over him. It was so fucking cute and, remembering his promise to her that previous night, and his longing the previous morning, he slowly rolled her onto her back and slid down under the sheets. Whisper moaned cutely, her bell-like voice thick with sleep, and she wiggled a little at the sensations emanating from between her thighs. Her tail twitched lightly and her little paws grasped at the bed sheets as pleasure began to invade her sleeping mind. It was the warm hand sliding up her front to caress her bare, small B-cup breasts that woke her and allowed her to fully feel the flat, hot tongue against her cunny so much more clearly. She gave a gasp and writhed, clutching at the sheets tighter as her eyes blinked open. The first thing she saw was her daughter Sammie asleep beside her. A white tiger like herself, her daughter was all woman with large breasts, a trim waste and a booty men would kill to squeeze. Envy plagued her again, as it had nearly every single time she laid eyes on her daughter. If only she could be a woman like her, but instead Whisper was forever trapped in the body of a ten year old girl with larger breasts than someone that age would possess. Her breasts, though small, were the only part of her she felt made her an adult. Though with the way that her boyfriend treated her, she certainly felt like a woman, and a wanted one at that. If nothing else, the tongue lapping at her cunny was a sure sign he thought her a woman and wanted her. She moaned again, biting her lower lip to keep quiet. They’d had sex with Sammie ‘watching’ once already, but it had been in the heat of the moment and right this second, it felt so much naughtier to play while she slept at the other side of the bed. “Matthew,” Whisper mewled faintly, biting her lower lip again as her back bowed and she fought not to cry out, the feeling of him sucking on her sensitive clit so intense. She didn’t need to wait much longer though, as Matthew slide up her body. “Gotta go slow and quiet so we don’t wake, Sammie,” he whispered to his little loli lover and she nodded up at him, her jade green eyes pleading. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, clutching at his arms with her small hands as he slowly thrust his knotless canine cock into her tight cunny, moaning as quietly as he could. “So tight!” he hissed softly, his own hands clutching at the bed on either side of her. He shivered a little as he pushed and pushed, stopping halfway to pull himself nearly all the way out before thrusting in again, this time sinking to his hilt. “Matt,” she whispered, turning her head to bite the pillow, her eyes so hungry as they stared up at him. He knew what she wanted, so he took her, nice and slow, doing his best not to shake the bed. It was god damned torture for them both, but exciting to a level that even beat out doing it at the restaurant where it had been crowded and so very public. Every thrust saw him sliding deep into the tight, wet depths of his love’s pussy, the tip of his cock touching places inside her only he ever had, and ever would. He wasn’t the longest of men, but he’d be damned if he ever let another man sleep with his woman. He already hated her ex husband for having gotten to her first, but that was a senseless jealousy. She’d divorced the guy and now she was his, and that was all that mattered. When she whimpered and released the pillow to pant, he shivered at the obvious pleasure in her expression. He loved that he could make her feel this way, loved that she enjoyed everything they’d done together. He really wanted to kiss her, but in this position, he’d have to crane himself in a way that just wasn’t possible for his race, so instead, he pressed his lips to the top of her head between her fuzzy ears, gasping when she licked one of his flat nipples with her rough feline tongue. “Tease,” he whispered and she gave him a grin before one of his thrusts bumped her in that deepest place, instantly shattering her grin. Her mouth formed a little O and she shook a little before turning her head and biting the pillow, her toes curling as she came, her nails digging into his arms. Just the feel of her pussy spasming around his cock and the look of pure bliss on her face as she climaxed was enough to send Matthew over the edge and he moaned faintly as he pushed his cock deep inside her. His length throbbed heavily several times as he pumped her little cunny full of his seed, making her writhe beneath him even more. Eventually though, they both came down and he rolled them over, letting Whisper lay atop him limply as they struggled to catch their breaths. “That was hot,” whispered a voice beside them, making them both jump a little and look to Sammie. Her eyes were still closed because of her blindness but the perfectly filthy grin tugging at her lips told that she was awake and knew exactly what they’d done. Whisper blushed heavily enough to show through her white furry cheeks, and Matthew couldn’t help but chuckle. “Seriously, if you guys wake me up like that every day, I may not be so mad that I’m being left out,” she continued, her voice normal now. Whisper finally managed to smile but that was until Sammie scooted a little closer and reached out, her hand snaking around until it touched where Matthew was still buried inside her mother’s body. “But… when can I have a turn?” she asked in a voice so unsure, so tentative, that both Matthew and Whisper stilled. Matthew was the first to recover and he replied by leaning over and kissing her softly on the lips. “Tonight, if you really think you’re ready, and if your mother says it is okay,” he told her softly and when Whisper gave her affirmative, he smiled at Sammie. “Well there you go. Tonight, Hun.” Sammie bit her full lower lip, her chin quivering a little. She was nervous now that there was an actual date to when she’d lose her virginity, but at the same time, she felt anxious. She wished it was night already for a half a second before Matthew announced, “We’re gonna need condoms and some lube.” Whisper nodded several times and reached over, rubbing her daughter’s arm. “We wouldn’t want you to get pregnant the first time you have sex, now would we? And the lube will help, especially if you want to do more than just vaginal.” Sammie’s brows furrowed but before she could ask, her mother giggled softly. “Speaking of which, we haven’t actually done anal, have we, Lover Boy?” she asked in as sexy a purr as she could manage. Matthew shivered beneath Whisper and gave her cute little rump a soft slap, making her jump and laugh. “No, we haven’t. Mostly cause I’ve been too worried about hurting you. I’m already a lucky bastard, so I didn’t want to push for more,” he explained, earning himself a tender smile from Whisper. “That’s sweet, love,” she whispered softly to him before sliding up off his cock to kiss him on the lips. The two of them shared in their kiss for a long moment before breaking it. “Now you hop in the shower and get cleaned up, you have to work today, right?” she asked and Matthew pouted as he nodded. “Yeah, I have to fill in for my boss. She’s out for a few days. Taking a mini-vacation as it were,” he said, hesitating only slightly. He didn’t want to lie, but at the same time, he couldn’t just come out and say Cathy was taking days off so the two of them wouldn’t be tempted to fuck again while she was in heat… or at all. Whisper didn’t notice the hesitation though, as she hopped off the bed and stretched her arms over her head with a yawn. “I want some coffee,” she announced, looking to Sammie, who climbed out of bed after her, both of them looking cute with their hair all messy from sleep. Whisper couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of her daughter’s sex head, “You have the messiest bed head ever. It’s like you got fucked in all the best ways last night.” That had Sammie blushing and the two of them bantered back and forth as they left the room. Matthew was the slowest to get up, taking his time. He’d hid it pretty well, the stuttering of his heart, but now that they were gone, pain creased his features as he clutched at his chest with one hand and stood, stumbling his way to the bathroom. At least this time he didn’t feel like vomiting. The pain stopped by the time he stopped to take a leak, a sigh escaping him as he considered it. It had happened too many times now to be just a random hiccup in his biological systems and a very real fear began to grow in him but with a shake of his head, he banished his thoughts. He would go to the doctor on his next day off and if the results were bad then he’d worry. Until then, he’d put it out of mind. A quick shower later and he was downstairs, once again dressed in black slacks and a button down shirt. He stopped long enough to kiss both his women soundly on the lips before taking a to-go mug full of coffee with him out the door. Into his car he went, not eager to start his work day, but eager to get said day done so he could come home to his loves. He pulled out of the drive and started on his way to work, having not even the slightest clue as he passed his parent’s house, that a killer had taken up roost there. A few hours after dawn, specifically two hours after Matthew and every other working person had left for work, Cornelius awoke and yawned as he stretched, his body aching in a very pleasant way. It had taken seven pairs of panties and two bras before his libido had fallen unconscious along with his body, and he was very pleased to find himself still alone. He probably couldn’t stay any longer at the house, no telling when the owners would return. He crawled out of the bed, dressed in his dirty clothes, going down into the kitchen to get a bite to eat before he left when he saw a note. Somehow he’d missed it the previous night, and after reading the scrap of paper, he couldn’t help but grin. The owners, according to the note, would not be back for at least three more days. Four at the most. Counting his lucky stars, he went back upstairs and stripped, taking a long shower, savoring the luxury, before going downstairs naked to wash his clothes. He ate another cheese sandwich as he contemplated what to do for the day. A walk of the neighborhood to get a feel for it would be good, especially if he was going to be staying another night- best to know which way to run if the cops arrive. Just the thought of them had his feet itchy, but he knew he could lay low here for another night at the least before moving on. When his clothes finished, he pulled them on, hiding his gray and white skin before pulling on the bandana and cap, hiding as much of his face as he could by pulling the cap low and using the bandana to hide his scars. Sure this made him look shady, but it hid who he was and made him less threatening than a convicted killer. Making sure to pocket the key to the house, he left, locking the door behind him. He had the cash in his pocket, so if he did have to make a break for it before he could come back to the house, at least he wouldn’t be empty handed. He glanced at the number on the mailbox as he passed it, taking the sidewalk as he made his way. 201 Pyre Avenue… 203… 205… He glanced at each house as he passed, not really caring that much, but he slowed when he saw a box like car pulling out of a driveway a ways in front of him. He lowered the cap a little more as the car’s driver glanced his way, noting it looked like a young tiger girl, but then she passed him and he turned his gaze back to the house. 207 Pyre Avenue. A two story white house that almost mirrored the one he’d been in last night, save for the paintjob. It was as he was looking at it that movement in one of the windows caught his eye. Time stood still for him as his eyes went wide at the sight of the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on as she moved about the living room of the house in front of the window. She wasn’t tall, barely 5’5”, but she was one hell of a woman. Busty, and with a booty that he’d love to worship with kisses and licks, the attraction to her was instantaneous and his prick which had to this point been asleep from the abuse he’d previously given it perked right the hell up and pushed hard against his jeans. He’d seen a few women since he’d escaped from the prison, but hadn’t felt this powerful a pull to them. There was just something about this sexy white tigress that had his inner beast panting and every fiber of him longed to at the very least learn her name. No, who was he kidding. He would never be able to settle for that. He had to have her, all of her. Not just her name, but her scent, her taste, her feel. He had to know what she felt like in his arms, what her lips tasted like on his, and if her moans of pleasure were just as sexy as he knew they would be. He had to have her, he knew this with all his being, and when he saw her pause and turn her head towards the window, his heart gave a little shudder. He had to have her, there was no denying the instinct, and when she disappeared from view, only to open the front door and step out, calling out if someone was there, a dark little voice inside his head whisper ‘and you will have her’. He shook his head, to deny that voice; this was a woman that didn’t deserve filth like him. She deserved some man who had a spotless record and a bright future… but his damned feet weren’t listening to his head. They listened to his heart, or maybe to that dark voice, and brought him closer, tugging the words from his lips, “I am, Ma’am. I’m here.”