\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
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\n\t\t\t\t\t| " | \n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tGus heard a loud slam against Maile's bedroom door, followed by Sammy's barking and a soft, high-pitched moan. "What the f-… Maile? Everything okay in there?!" The aging, bald-headed man sat at a round table in his home's dining room, playing five-card penny-poker with Maxwell and Bradley, his fellow musicians and anthro-hybrid pseudo-sons. Gus Stevenson curled his scruffy red-tinted eyebrows and scrunched his nose, wondering what the hell sort of weird shenanigans his goat-panda-demon hybrid drummer girl was getting herself into behind her closed bedroom door, barely registering a notion of any further detail, mind fixated on his current drawn hand, a three of a kind - and aces, nevertheless. No doubt, he'd win the current deal and collect his penny earnings, roughly five dollars total in the pot thus far. Max and Brad often enjoyed laying out their performance tips in the form of Lincoln-faced bronzed shiny change, challenging their band leader and touring manager to numerous forms of card games. This one was a hot draw and Gus felt a lucky streak taking hold. Brad kept his cards face-down upon the linoleum-tarnished kitchen dining table, glancing at his fellow poker player committee, maintaining his most stolid expression, not opting to reveal his straight flush - three, four, five, six and seven cards, all black with spades and all apt to earn him beaucoup pennies. Maxwell stared relentlessly at his cards, happy with his pair of kings and not much else, refusing to believe that he'd drawn the shittiest hand of all, yet possessing the most change thus far. He hoped he hadn't overplayed his earnings, anteing up a steady fortune of change in hopes of sweeping a fast win from beneath Brad and Gus's feet, yet failing to live up to such a promise. Brad shook his head and breathed deep, emanating a long sigh from his parted fennec-hybrid lips. "She's probably roughhousing again, you know how wild she gets with her pet." "Wild? That's one way of putting it, I guess…" Max said, never breaking concentration with his drawn hand, trying to maintain visual stability, despite his doubt in ascertaining another winning streak upon their ongoing poker-time night. "Oh, shove it, shep-coon, seriously. Draw or fold, my man?" Brad asked Max. The German shepherd-raccoon hybrid bassist scoffed, rolled his one good un-patched eye and placed his cards down flat upon the table, causing it to sway and creak, nearly spilling the other guy's drinks. "Fucking fold, you dingus. I'm certain I can only do so little with the cards I'd been drawn." "Such a sucker for the winning streaks, eh sheppy-coony?" Brad said in a condescending, mocking tone. "Your mom is a sucker for me, jack-wad." Max replied amidst a chuckle, all in good teasing fun. "Honestly though, should I go check on her, perhaps? That didn't sound too… healthy." Gus said, face painted with concern and querulous curiosity. "She'll be fine, Gussy-poo! C'mon, man, let's wrap this game up so I can go back to rehearsing. I've got a bad-ass idea for a cool new bass riff, should result in a freaking gnarly-ass new song, maybe." Max said. Brad clicked his tongue and winked at Max, then he slid whatever change he had at his disposal into the center of the table. "Fair enough. All in!" Brad said, feeling heavily confident in himself, raising the pot to roughly eight dollars and fifty cents, give or take. "I'll take that heat fair and square, I shall check and cash in my earnings as well." Gus said, rolling three tubes of pennies, a dollar each, into the center of the table, accumulating a grand total of over ten dollars in penny change. "Woah! Living dangerously, I see? Good man! Okay, let's lay our cards down at the same time, we'll see who gets a nice hefty collection after tonight." Brad said to Gus. Maxwell closed his eyes shut tight and, through telekinetic peeping, witnessed a zany-naughty sight in Maile's bedroom… Wearing stiletto high-heeled boots and a kinky leather corset, Maile Martinez, panda-girl hybrid at large, had secretly invited a newfound vixen girl, a friend of a friend no doubt, into her room to engage in a serious round of hot doggystyle fuckery with her pet GSD, Samson. She constantly peered at her bedroom door, hoping nobody could hear the kinkiness from outside, attempting to keep a silent lid on the situation, even with Samson's knot driving and wedging itself firmly into the young vixen girl's robust fleshy tight vaginal passage. The girl, Julia by name, had knelt herself down upon Maile's bedroom floor, a carpet of lush green and purple yarn, to welcome the dog's oncoming advances. Samson, handsome and strapping, wearing a leather collar with a thin leash attached, held and tugged hard by Maile, was fucking the daylights out of the young cutie, thrusting and humping into her with reckless abandon, unaware of anything or anyone else. Sammy panted and sniffed deep, inhaling the potent scent of female estrus that emanated throughout his master's bedroom, front paws curled around the vixen girl's anthro hips, tail smacking against her own in rapid succession. Julia's arms were pinned to the carpet, head turned aside, hair splayed around her head in a tangle of dirt and dog slobber and toe-paws clenched down hard to maintain stability and balance. Her stout vixen muzzle was scrunched into a wince of mixed pain and pleasure, one eye open and shedding a tear of immeasurable lust, lower lip nibbled upon and mind perplexed by the sheer volume of erotic vibrancy felt from letting Maile's pet Gshep fuck her hard, legs spread and pussy spread wider, welcoming his throbbing knot into her womb with each heated thrust, feeling her cervix violated by his prodding rock-hard tip, clitoris fully exposed and molested, sliding hard against each veiny warm circular inch of his stifling girth. She begged for more, she begged for him to cum hard and tie his knot inside, she begged for his pups and for Maile to kneel down beside her so that she could lick at her hooves, thanking her for a chance to fuck her cousin's favorite drummer's pet doggo after sneaking away from home and obtaining Enim-Noinu's home address and rapping at Maile's bedroom window and climbing in and meeting her in the midst of ongoing anthro-on-feral cunnilingus and becoming immediately damp in her panties and being pulled down with relentless fervor to become Sammy's fucktoy for hours and hou- "Maxwell!!! Still with us, champ?!" Gus called aloud, shaking Max's shoulder. The shep-coon blinked and broke his telekinetic bond, glancing at Gus and Brad's concerned faces. He'd actually fainted after receiving a nosebleed in the midst of bearing witness to Maile's ongoing naughty endeavors. Instead of lying on the floor of Gus's kitchen, he now lay comfortably on a large leather-bound sofa in Gus's living room, tissue bundled up into one of his nostrils and iron-clad taste of blood in his mouth. ~ According to Bradley's testimony later on over a glass of raw home-brewed kombucha and an ice pack held against an unsightly bruise formed upon the back of Maxwell's canine head, he told the shep-coon all about how he'd slumped clear out of his chair and smacked down upon the floor like a sack of russet potatoes. Max blinked and nodded affirmatively, acknowledging to the other guys that he was indeed okay, just got a bit too excited over the card game, that's all. Gus giggled to himself, sipping from a mug filled with hot Earl Grey tea, rubbing his forehead. "You can say that again, bossa-nova McBloodynose. When we tried to hoist you up off the floor, dragging you to the living room couch, you had the biggest fucking erection I'd ever seen on damn-near anyone else." Brad snickered and Max felt a blush threatening to burn holes through tufts of cheek-fur on his face. If only he could replay what he'd seen through the eyes of their little drummer hybrid-girl, they too would've fainted from a diabolical shock of immeasurable arousal. He felt as if his massive boner was more than justified, it was crucially earned from bearing witness to Maile's wild shenanigans behind her closed bedroom door. END\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t | \n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
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