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They have close friendship that includes an occasional hookup arrangement and the text could be an invitation for fun times and lighter balls. However, when the man arrives at her door he is greeted by a woman who needs a favor…a nonsexual one. In the absence of her usual babysitters, the cat asks Mark to watch her six-year-old daughter for the night so she can attend a work event. Mark’s a sweetheart, so of course he agrees. A simple favor gets very complicated, very quickly.", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Mark (a border collie in his late twenties) gets a text from Valerie (a cat who lives three floors down in the same apartment complex) asking for help. They have close friendship that includes an occasional hookup arrangement and the text could be an invitation for fun times and lighter balls. However, when the man arrives at her door he is greeted by a woman who needs a favor…a nonsexual one. In the absence of her usual babysitters, the cat asks Mark to watch her six-year-old daughter for the night so she can attend a work event. Mark’s a sweetheart, so of course he agrees. A simple favor gets very complicated, very quickly.", "writing": "Keeping up with the Joneses (Part 1)\n\nThe ceramic bowl on the side table rang like a bell with the impact of a keyring, as a pair of sneakers offered a chatter of thumps below, the weekday signal that work was done and it was finally time to decompress. A soft click announced the exclusion of the outside world behind an apartment door with more pre-installed locks than one would hope to see in an access controlled building. The tall border collie rarely locked more than the knob, if he was honest. If someone wanted to break in so badly that they got through the locked entrances on the ground floor, past the security desk and the elevators, and around the hallway security cameras, there’s not a deadbolt or chain or whatever that would stop them from kicking the door in and being horribly disappointed by the spartan apartment they found.\n\nWhile the singing of the catch-all bowl slowly faded, the dog strolled into the living room and started pulling off his work clothes. Wear-wrinkled slacks splayed through the air with the kick of a leg, and a polo shirt with an embroidered logo that seemingly would never not be stiffer than steel plate landed beside them on the back of the couch. Grabbing the discarded clothes, he padded barefoot into the bedroom and tossed them into the hamper. Late afternoon sun poured a swath of liquid gold across the bedroom carpet and halfway up the patchwork black and white fur of his body. It felt better than sinking into any hot tub.\n\nThe border collie glanced down at his half-lit belly as he pushed the underwear down my legs. Pink ghosts of two-day-old lipstick marks were still faintly visible in the fine white fluff, a wandering line of kiss and nibble tracks from chest to sheath. At least Val kept it below the neck last time. He didn’t need coworkers having a reason to try and strike up a personal conversation. At the same time that the pair of boxer briefs landed on top of the hamper, a tinkle of digital wind chimes announced a new text message on the phone he forgot to remove from his slacks.\n\nThe display lit up when he extracted the device from his hamper. “New text message from Valerie Jones” sat at the top of a notification feed littered with news and weather notifications the dog never bothered to read. Speak of the devil.\n\n“Hey, are you home tonight?”\n\nThe long, feathery fur of his tail swished with the gentle wag that kicked up. He replied with a characteristically short “yep” and sauntered over to lay on the bed.\n\nAnother round of chimes. “Can you come to my place? I need some help with something.”\n\nThe wagging increased, eliciting a sound from the bed linens like a flag in a stiff breeze. Replying that he would be there in a couple minutes, the dog hopped up and threw on some shorts and a t-shirt. “Help with something” usually meant that the cat needed to blow off some steam, which usually meant a new trail of lipstick and waking up with noticeably lighter balls. It looked like it was going to be a fun Thursday night and a rough Friday morning.\n\nThe old elevator hummed and wobbled on the way down from the eleventh floor to the eighth. The border collie’s bare footsteps stopped in front of 812, where he gave a triple knock with the knuckle of his right index finger. There was a muted sound of bedlam from the other side of the door that swelled to a cacophony when the door swung open and the bright green eyes of an exasperated blue-grey feline glanced out.\n\nThe relief on her face was monumental when she gasped, “Mark, oh my god, thank you for coming!”\n\n“Of course! I didn’t have anyth—“\n\nA rumble of feet inside her apartment cut him off, as a calico kitten of six years sprinted through the living room behind her mother. Clad in a powder blue nightshirt, the girl giggled and shouted “PUMPY” in delight as she ran. The family dog, a two-year-old golden retriever with all the grace and poise of a windblown napkin, pinballed through the furniture with big, floppy bounds. He caught sight of the border collie at the door and wheeled past the kitten in a full gallop. Val was jostled to the side by the passage of the dog, who jumped up to place both front paws against Mark’s chest.\n\n“Hey, Pumpkin,” the man chuckled, scratching behind the beast’s ears. “So, what’s up?”\n\nThe elder cat coaxed him in and closed the door, before the retriever could get any ideas about starting an impromptu game of tag through the corridors. While the girl and dog resumed their chase, Val lead the border collie into her bedroom. She had on a sleek, dark, knee-length skirt that hugged the curves of her hips and thighs like a drowning man. A black bra played hide-and-seek behind the straps and low lace collar of a salmon pink camisole she wore tucked into the waist of the skirt. As she went back to preening at the vanity mirror, she explained.\n\n“You know that work dinner party I have tonight,” she muttered as a mascara brush swept across the curves of her eyelashes. “Mingling and all the miserable stuff, but I have to at least show face I want to look ‘committed’…whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean. I had a babysitter scheduled for Missa, but she’s laid up with a broken leg.”\n\nMark rested his backside against her dresser and crossed his arms. “Fuck,” he retorted. “Which one was it? The capybara kid from third floor?”\n\n“No, she went and got a job. This was Rina, that pronghorn from up your way.”\n\nHe’d seen the family around the complex a time or two. Rina was one of those active teens involved with, like, two dozen sports. Deep brown eyes, a cute fucking smile, and a body that belied her age in a dangerous way.\n\n“Poor kid.”\n\nVal scoffed as she moved from her vanity to the closet. Catching his eye briefly in the mirrored door, she gave a tail flip and wrinkled her nose. Velvety grey arms rummaged for a suit jacket.\n\n“Poor her? She’s the one that decided to have only hobbies that could send her fit ass to the hospital. Now I’ve got no time to find another brat to keep the kiddo alive for the night.” She folded a jacket over her arms and turned to him with a sigh. “I didn’t want to bother you with it, but I don’t feel like I’ve got a choice. Could you please help me out?”\n\nHe met her earnestness with a lopsided smile and said, “Sure thing, mama. Missa and Pumpkin both get along fine with me. Just gotta put food in her, let the dog out to pee, and try not to get trampled before bed. How hard could it be?”\n\n“Well, you won’t have to feed her; she just finished supper. Pumpkin is fine going on his pad on balcony for the night. And you probably won’t have to put up—” A burst of thunderous footfalls and riotous giggling broke in from the living room and hallway. “—with all that for much longer.”\n\n“Yeah, sounds like they should run themselves out pretty soon.”\n\n“That and the melatonin chews she just had will drop her like a rock in about an hour.”\n\n“See? Piece of cake. May be able to just huck the goofball into bed and sit up watching videos of you I’ve got on my phone until you get home.”\n\nThe cat swung the jacket over her shoulders and slipped her arms into the sleeves. Something about the cut of the thing accented her slim waist and modest chest. It was just the right cross of severity and sensuality, and Mark found himself wishing that she didn’t have a work thing (and that Melissa’s dad had custody tonight). The relief and happiness on Valerie’s face hit his heart like a ton of bricks.\n\nStrolling up to him and pressing her chest against his, she slipped her muzzle under his chin and gave a quick nip at his neck. “Thank you so much. Don’t go too crazy with those videos, or you won’t be able to enjoy the real thing this weekend.”\n\nThe border collie whimpered softly and squirmed as he felt the pointed tip of his cock nudge out of its sheath and graze the inside of his shorts. He gave her a little lick on the forehead and reached one paw around the small of her back to press her belly against his half-hardness.\n\n“Oh, I think I’ll manage,” he growled into the fur between her ears.\n\nOnce the rushed mother had herself together, she caught Melissa on the fly and gave her a big hug and a kiss. The squealing kid was back off like a shot when she hit the floor, and Val went off to catch a train downtown. \n\nMark turned to his charges for the evening. Melissa had Pumpkin rolled onto his back on the living room floor and was blowing truly obnoxious raspberries into the dog’s belly while all four of his legs kicked wildly in the air. The border collie circled around to the front of the couch and flopped down, surreptitiously adjusting himself so his waning arousal could die down without notice.\n\nSome cartoon or other chattered on the television, all bright colors and painfully high voices. He kicked his bare feet up on the coffee table and slipped his phone out while the pair wrestled on the floor. A shriek snapped him out of forty-five minutes of scrolling through social media, and he glanced up to find that a juice box had been knocked off of the table. It had mercifully landed upright on floor, so the carpet wasn’t fouled. But, the impact had caused a jet of bright red fruit punch to shoot across the kitten’s night dress, leaving a streak from one shoulder down to her opposite hip. That was going to stain if it sat too long.\n\n“Whoop!” The border collie hopped up and scooped the girl up into his arms. “C’mon, Missa, let’s go get you changed out of this so I can wash it.”\n\nHe carried her into her bedroom and set her back on her feet. It took a couple of tries to find the drawer with her sleepwear in it, but he finally turned around with a clean nightdress. Melissa stood with her arms up and legs braced a little more than shoulder width apart, waiting for the new dress. Her patchy white, orange, grey, and black fur was bare from head to toe. As his glance ran down her body, past her too-visible crotch, his eyes settled on her discarded outfit. Only the punch streaked nightdress lay on the floor, so he figured she must not have had panties on in the first place. He snorted at that and shook his head. Kids were wild to him, and he’d never be sure if shit like that was normal or not. With a swift motion, he whipped the new dress over her head and down to cover her utterly absent modesty.\n\n“There you go, Miss Missa. I’ll go start this washing before it gets stained. You go grab that juice box and put it on the kitchen table, okay? Don’t need your mom coming home to a crime scene.”\n\nShe bounced on her toes and mewled, “kay!” before running back out of the room.\n\nThe bedlam and laughter in the living room faded away as Mark padded into the laundry area, a stacked washer and dryer tucked away behind the master bathroom door. He set about hitting the red streak with pre-treater and tossed it in the washer for a quick cycle. As the machine whirred and splattered to life, wind chimes echoed in the cramped room. Val had sent him a photo from her table at the dinner party: an out of focus shot of her bare pussy lips, glistening faintly in the light of her phone’s flash, she must have snuck from under her skirt and the table cloth. He was surrounded by girls who refused to wear underwear, it seemed.\n\n“Keep this up and you won’t be able to walk on Monday,” he typed back, making a quick adjustment of his hardening bits that reminded him that he was just as guilty of wandering around with no knickers on. He took a moment to settle down before heading back out.\n\nThings were surprisingly quiet when Mark walked down the hallway. There was still cartoon chatter and the rhythmic panting of the golden retriever from the other side of the couch. The only other sound was what had to be faint snoring. He guessed that the melatonin crash must have finally hit. That was great, because she was one of those kids who wouldn’t wake up in an earthquake. Now he could put her in bed and exchange some dirty messages with her mom until she got home. Maybe he could even sneak off to the master bath to jerk off.\n\nAll of those thoughts vanished when he got close enough to see over the couch. Melissa was fully asleep on the living room floor, in that position kids seem to always end up in when they crash hard: face down, arms splayed out, knees tucked, ass in the air. He would have laughed, except that her nightshirt had ridden up to her chest, and Pumpkin was obviously tied with the little girl. The dog’s tail wagged when he saw Mark, long golden fur sweeping back and forth across the kitten’s bare butt cheeks.\n\n“Oh shit,” the border collie gasped. “Pumpkin, what the fuck?”\n\nHe swung around the couch, not noticing when his shin caught the coffee table hard. He crouched down next to the pair, checking to see if the girl was ok. He guessed that she was more or less fine. Whatever the retriever’s swollen cock might be doing to her insides, she was completely out and snoring quietly. He groaned, still on the verge of a panic attack, and muttered some very mean comments to a canine far too deep in a climax to understand or care.\n\nHe had to tell Val. There was no possible way he could tell Val, but he had to. She was going to be furious. Forget fucking her this weekend: even if she didn’t press charges, she’d probably never talk to him again. He glanced down at the phone he had unknowingly already taken out. In the moments before tapping Valerie’s contact he had just enough time to acknowledge that his own dick couldn’t decide if it wanted to rocket out of his shorts or pop inside and just become an internal organ forever.\n\n“Excuse me guys, it’s the babysitter,” he heard come from the device he still hadn’t brought to his ear. “Hey, what’s up? Is everything okay?”\n\nThe border collie licked his lips, wetting nothing. His mouth could have been made of cotton.\n\n“Helloooo,” came the voice on the line. “Mark, you there?”\n\nHis voice creaked to life, sounding like a stranger to himself. “Um, Val? Are you…surrounded by people right now?”\n\nThere was a laugh on the other end. “It’s a party, so yeah.”\n\n“Can you not be? I’m freaking the fuck out here.”\n\n“What happened?” The concern from his tone now bled into hers.\n\nMark hissed into the phone, “I just found your dog fucking your daughter!”\n\nIt felt like three hours before the speaker crackled with a low, “Hang on,” and the call disconnected. Could it have gone worse? He didn’t even know what her reaction was. Was she making an excuse to step away? Returning home early to kill him? Calling the cops?\n\nPumpkin must have read the tension. He stopped wagging and started to move away. His frame was slightly bigger than the kitten’s, and his motion pulled the girl with him. The border collie grabbed the retriever’s collar to hold him still and keep Missa from getting any more injured than she might already be. When the phone rang with a video call, Mark damned near jumped out of his skin.\n\nThe call connected and revealed Valerie, jacket off, standing in what looked like a single-occupancy restroom. Her expression was unreadable, but he had all kinds of guesses about what she was feeling.\n\n“Just breathe, Mark.” Her voice was low and calm. “Let me see.”\n\n“What?” he yelped.\n\n“Flip the camera and show me what’s going on.”\n\nHow the fuck was she this calm? Her six-year-old was…was…. He shuddered.\n\n“Okay. All right, here,” he said as he tapped the button to switch to the back camera.\n\nThe little inset window that showed his side of the call flipped over to reveal the dog and girl joined at the back ends. Pumpkin was wagging again, freshly excited by the sound of his owner’s voice. Melissa’s tail hung limp to one side, only the tip twitching occasionally with whatever dreams she was having.\n\n“Holy shit,” Valerie gasped. The phone showed her wide eyes staring just below the camera, pupils narrow as knives and darting rapidly. “Did he seriously get inside her?”\n\n“Val! Would I have called you if he hadn’t? I had to grab the sonofabitch to stop him from dragging her all over the fucking apartment.”\n\n“Can you get a different angle?” She sounded breathless. Her face was close to her phone as if she was trying to get a better look. “I just want to, y’know, make sure she’s not hurt.”\n\nHe blinked at the screen. The fuck did she want him to do, reach under the pair and show her from below?\n\n“Just slip you phone under them.” So, yeah then. She was panting now, too. “Check for blood or signs of tearing.”\n\n“Jesus Christ,” he groaned. “That can happen?”\n\n“I dunno, probably. Just look. Close.”\n\nMark laid on his side, still holding the retriever’s collar. From underneath, he couldn’t see anything that implied injury. There were thin, milky dribbles sneaking out from between the dog and girl, tracing the curve of her mound to drip onto the carpet. The scent was unreal. He switched on the flash and pointed the camera up. The retriever’s thick orange fur hid their union, so the border collie had to lay his phone on the floor and use his paw to shift the fur. All the while, he tried not to touch the girl.\n\n“I don’t see any blood. That’s something, at least.”\n\nShe breathed a quick, “that’s good!” A creak in the background suggested that she had sat down on the toilet seat.\n\nThe border collie withdrew and lifted himself back up to kneeling. Still holding the golden retriever with one paw, he switched off the flash and looked at the screen. Val’s ears were flushed a deep red that he’d only seen when they were tangled together in bed (or the shower…or on the couch). She was no longer right up on the camera, so he could clearly see a blue-grey paw squeezing one of her breasts through the camisole and bra.\n\n“Valerie,” he whisper-yelled, “the fuck are you doing?”\n\n“Shhh,” she hissed back. “She’s out cold, probably doesn’t feel a thing, and doesn’t seem to be injured.”\n\n“That doesn’t—”\n\n“Besides, you can’t tell me this isn’t hot as fuck. I know what he feels like, but it probably feels so much bigger in her.”\n\nThe paw vanished from her chest, and he listened in shock as wet sounds from off screen let him know that it had found its way to her pussy. Between that and the sights and smells in the room with him, Mark’s dick finally reached a decision and rapidly pushed out of his sheath. It was awful. The way Melissa’s red, swollen lips stretched painfully from the resistance they put up against the retriever’s knot had him terrified for her wellbeing, and Val’s behavior was unbelievable. He also couldn’t deny that it was all a powerful turn on. But…\n\n“Hold up,” the border collie barked suddenly. “What the fuck did you say?”\n\nThe grey cat laughed hard enough he almost thought she’d tumble off the throne. She pulled her free paw back up and pressed damp fingers to her nose. Her gorgeous eyes half-closed and she moaned.\n\n“Did you think yours was the only huge knot I’ve had locked in me?”\n\nHe blinked at his phone. “I hadn’t really thought about it. Just figured any other dogs you fucked would have jobs and pay taxes and shit.”\n\nShe slipped her fingers into her mouth, sucking and licking them clean of her juices. After she withdrew them with a slow drag down her barbed tongue, she licked her lips said, “Well, there’ve been a couple of those, too. But, sometimes a girl needs something a little closer to home. Besides, he rails me like a I’m a thing, so it scratches very different itches.”\n\nMark sat back on his heels and stared at the scene in front of him. Suddenly it wasn’t the little calico he saw but her mother, fully nude and grinding on the tie like a person possessed. It was a view he’d seen dozens of times, but seeing from a perspective other than his usual one gave him a jolt. The thought of watching Val on the ground, at the mercy of a beast mindless and bent on fucking her into the carpet, sent a squirt of precome against his straining shorts. The fluid beaded out through the fabric and slowly darkened the front.\n\nAll he could do was hold Pumpkin in place and switch his view between the dog’s twitching backside and the masturbating cat on his phone. After what felt like an eternity, the retriever’s orgasm wound down and he shrank enough to release. With a shift of his weight, Pumpkin’s knot slipped free with an incredible wet sucking sound. Mark—with Valerie still on the call—released the retriever’s collar, and the adults watched as ten inches of artery-laced red and pink cock flopped out of the kitten. His pulse was thundering so hard in his ears that the border collie didn’t catch the little noise that came from Missa’s carpet-muffled mouth. The golden retriever wandered over to lay by the sliding door to the balcony and lick his junk clean. Aa far as Mark could see, there was still no sign of injury on the girl.\n\n“Thank fuck that’s over,” the man grunted. “It may have been hot or whatever, but I was so worried he was wrecking her.”\n\nThe mother responded between shallow, panting breaths, “If you don’t think you’ll barf into her, let’s check and make sure there’s no damage.”\n\n“Jesus, Val!”\n\nShe laughed. “Just swing around behind, and let’s see how she looks. It can’t be more jarring than what you’ve already seen.”\n\nWhile the onscreen cat sat upright and licked her fingers again, Mark eased around behind the sleeping kitten. Melissa still lay in that awkward position. In the living room lights, almost everything was on full display. The white fur of her thighs was blocked with overlapping patches of black and orange. Amid the white of her crotch, plastered flat with semen and her own juices, Missa’s slit was transformed into a yawning cavern. The lips should have been pink but were now bright red, flushed from the aggressive thrusting and her body’s natural reaction to being plowed. The angle of the light left the interior of her vagina in darkness but still illuminated the short patch of fur that lead up to her balloon knot and tail base. It was no small comfort that there was no sign of injury on the outside, but an uncomfortable curiosity was setting in.\n\nThe man cleared his throat and asked, “Should we check…umm…inside?”\n\n“I was about to suggest it,” Val replied with a tone he couldn’t place. “I just didn’t know how you’d react.”\n\n“I mean, we should make sure she’s ok, right?”\n\nWithout waiting for a response, the border collie switch the flash back on and aimed the light and camera into the void. The kitten’s walls were still slick and glistening with fluids from both her and the retriever, but their slow narrowing kept the level of dog spunk even with the opening and ensured that a thin trickle of the stuff kept running out of her and over her clitoris on its way to the carpet. The light reflected on a settled pool of milky white with a bump of red-pink nearly submerged at the far end. It took a moment for Mark to realize he was looking at Missa’s cervix, practically drowning in dog semen. Based on the sounds coming from his phone, her speechless mother was furiously attacking her own pussy.\n\n“Mark,” a low, breathless voice slurred, “show me how hard you are right now.”\n\nThe border collie was too far gone at this point to protest. As surreal as all of this was, he could reasonably convince himself it was all a dream to be awoken from on Valerie’s couch, while the child and dog slept in the middle of the night. He used his free hand to push his shorts down off of his tail and rump, then pointed the camera at the straining tent in the front as the waistband caught on his throbbing erection. With a clumsy tug, the band slipped over and his bright red arousal sprang out with a slim arc of precome that slung out to land on the calico’s backside.\n\nValerie moaned in her shelter away from the party. The paw that wasn’t occupied with holding her phone was back under her skirt, three fingers buried to the last knuckle in her aching cunt. Watching Mark’s cock fly out of his shorts and stand in full glory on the screen, while her daughter still lay stretched and dripping within the camera frame, had her wishing she’d stayed in the apartment complex for this. The party was real, and so was her need to show up and be seen, but it was also the only way to set things up. Now, though, she stared at the screen with a hunger that her fingers alone couldn’t sate. She just had to be careful, because running home right now would turn everything upside down. She had to stay on task, maybe squeeze out a couple more little orgasms, then hurry back when she knew things were…locked in. The unintended pun pushed her snarl of lust closer to a grin of amusement.\n\n“Hey,” she said in an almost-whisper, “why not put it in while you’re there.”\n\nThe view on the screen shuddered with his shock, but that beautiful rosy shaft bounced in a way that said it at least agreed with her. Mark’s face suddenly appeared, from a low angle at which she was fairly used to seeing it. His eyes were wide, but his nose was flaring less like anger and more like zeroing in on a hunted scent. The way it twitched toward the offscreen kitten, despite his gaze locked on his phone, let her know she almost had him.\n\n“Valerie, what the fuck is wrong with you?”\n\nThe tone was still low, to avoid waking Melissa, but carried confusion, fear, and she figured some anger that may be directed at her or himself. Maybe both. He wasn’t ready, but he also wasn’t shutting down. She’d have to dance around this carefully. The paw working her pussy over slowed so the gunmetal cat could focus.\n\nVal gave the border collie an earnest look and said, “There’s at least some part of you that wants to.” A sharp downward flick of her dark green eyes underlined and clarified her words.\n\nMark’s face eased a little deeper into fear, tinged with guilt. He ran his free paw down his face like it could wipe away everything that was happening in front of him and said, “With the scents in this room and,” he glanced up and away from the phone and swallowed hard, “everything else that’s happened tonight, of course the urge is there. But no urge on earth is strong enough to make me rape a fucking child.”\n\nHis expression turned to a hard glare, accompanied by a deep growl that punctuated his last sentence, surprising the mother cat. Not only was it a sterner vibe than usual from the dog, the protectiveness toward her daughter fanned her flames hotter than ever. It was time to lock in and bring out the ace in the hole.\n\n“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of making you do something like that.”\n\n“Sounded an awful lot like you were.” The growl was still there under his words.\n\nShe sat up and leaned forward, smiling but holding him with serious eyes. “No, Mark. Hon, I know how this probably looks from your point of view, but she’s my baby. I would never have you force yourself on her, sleeping or otherwise. She asked for this.”\n\n“Stop fucking around, Valerie,” he growled. “Shit sounds like you blaming her for—“\n\n“Christ, Mark, I’m not victim blaming her, and it’s not a justification. She wanted to know what it was like. Not just with Pumpkin but with you, too. Isn’t that right, baby?”\n\nIn the living room, Mark almost shot out of his skin when a small, sheepish voice mewled, “Uh huh.”\n\nThe border collie’s head snapped to Melissa’s face, barely visible over her shoulder. The insides of the kitten’s ears were blushed almost as deep a red as her battered sex. One ice blue eye peered over her shoulder, past her butt, right at his face.\n\n“Missa,” he croaked, “what…no. What are you two talking about? You didn’t actually want all of this did you?”\n\nHer face ducked away, embarrassed, and she muttered into the carpet, “I told Mama I watched her sometimes. When I’m in bed and I hear sounds in Mama’s room, I sometimes sneak out to watch under the door. Sometimes it’s just Mama putting clothes away or watching something on her phone and touching…down there. I also seen her playing a weird game with Pumpy and it sounded like it hurt but it looked like it felt good for Mama and Pumpy and then there was some times when you came to see with Mama after I went to bed and I saw that too and I told Mama I saw all those things and asked her—“\n\nShe was talking so fast and quiet that Mark had to stop her. “Hey, hey…slow down. No one’s mad, and you’re not in trouble. Just…here.”\n\nThe border collie tossed his phone onto the couch and picked the kitten up with both arms. As he lifted her, the surprise made her clench up and, as she squeaked, a full load of golden retriever semen squelched out of the young cat, ran down her leg, and landed on the carpet. She was still dripping as he cradled her close to his chest and carried her to the couch. His shorts fell the rest of the way down as he stood and walked, so he kicked them off to keep from tripping.\n\nFlopping onto the couch, Mark kept the girl in a snug embrace. He freed one hand to grab his phone and lift it up. The screen showed acoustic tiles and a half dozen Edison style bulbs over the top of a mirror. The border collie guessed that the garbled sounds were handwashing. While he waited for the mother cat to reappear on the screen, he gave Melissa a kiss on the forehead. She squirmed a little and buried her face under his chin. Her breath in the thick fur of his neck felt like words too muffled to reach his ears.\n\n“Hmm?”\n\nShe pulled away, sitting upright with arms braced against his chest. His erection had calmed enough to lay flat in the valley of his lap. Now that she had rocked back, though, her bottom sandwiched it against his legs. The tickle of fine fur against his shaft, with the added heat of mixed fluids running out of her and over the bare flesh, already threatened to drive the organ back to full hardness.\n\n“You’re really not mad?”\n\nHe moved his paw from around the small of her back and cupped the side of her face. A thumb smoothed the ginger fur of her cheek, slicking her whiskers back briefly.\n\n“No, Missa. I’m worried about you—and a bit about your mama—but I’m not mad.”\n\nHer head leaned into the caress and she spoke with a faint purr.\n\n“You said a lot of really bad stuff, even at Pumpy, so I thought you hated us.”\n\n“Nah,” he grunted, bringing her back in for a hug to comfort her and give his dick a reprieve from her wet heat. “I like you and your mama a whole lot, kitten. You’re right that I said some bad stuff. It isn’t an excuse, but I thought you were fast asleep and wouldn’t hear it. And I was very upset with Pumpkin, because he could have hurt you doing that.”\n\n“We were very careful,” Valerie said, back in frame. The background was moving behind her as she straightened her outfit to get ready to leave the bathroom. “We practiced together with toys of various sizes. I told her I’ve played games like that for a long time, but that she needed to start small and work up to be able to play with Pumpkin or with you.”\n\nMark chuckled into the fur of the little girl’s head and quipped, “Miss Missa hasn’t had to push any kittens out of hers either.”\n\n“Huh?” the kitten mewed. “Whazzat mean?”\n\nThe border collie shot a glance at his phone, where Valerie snickered and said, “Ah…I may have accidentally skipped something important.”\n\n“Val.”\n\n“What? She was starting out with canines, so it didn’t really come to mind.”\n\n“…Val. Seriously.”\n\nThere was a scratching at the balcony door. The patch of fake grass and absorbent padding that handled Pumpkin’s business between walks was out on the balcony, nestled against a corner of the short wall that hemmed the small space. Apparently the golden retriever needed to take a post-coital constitutional.\n\nMark patted the kitten’s back and said, “Missa, hon, could you please let Pumpkin out to potty?”\n\n“Sure!” the kitten chirped.\n\nStill naked as a jaybird, Melissa hopped off of Mark’s lap and padded across the room to open the door for the dog, who rushed out and relieved himself immediately. A few kicks at the mat and balcony floor punctuated his comfort break, from which he trotted back in and flopped onto his bed across the living room. The heavy sigh and little shifting motions the retriever made indicated he was on his way to a recuperative nap.\n\nThe calico left the sliding door ajar and glanced back at the border collie on the couch with a faint look of mischief she must have learned from watching her mom. She swept out through the open door and, holding a finger to her muzzle in the universal “our secret” sign, squatted down facing him. The man’s jaw dropped as his tiny ward released an aggressive stream of piss into the plastic grass mat, tail high and quivering. She dabbed herself with a paw and bolted into the kitchen to wash up. Mark’s jaw didn’t snap shut again until Valerie’s voice came again.\n\n“Anyway,” Val sighed, “tell you what, I’m gonna hang up for now and go make some excuse to leave. I should be able to get home in half an hour or so.”\n\n“Oh, really?”\n\n“Yeah, I’ve had plenty of these idiots and am ready for a more,” she paused with a smirk, “intimate atmosphere.”\n\nThe border collie’s tail thumped against the back of the couch. “Guess we’ll see you in a little bit then.”\n\nMissa suddenly crawled over the back of the couch and landed with a giggle into his lap. “Mama, you’re coming home?”\n\n“Yep, sweetie! Mama wants to play with you and Mark some before bed.”\n\nThe kitten cheered and threw her arms around Mark’s neck. They said goodbye to Valerie and stayed cuddled on the couch for a few minutes. It wasn’t too long before the girl was lying across the couch, head on the border collie’s lap, poking playfully at the sheath that once again mostly contained his cock. When it poked its tip out, she laughed and looked up at him with her mismatched eyes.\n\n“Why’s it hide like that?”\n\n“Well,” he said, reaching down to rub one of her ears, “a lot of folks have…uh…what words do you and your mama use for boys’ and girls’ private parts?”\n\n“When Mama told me about our privates and talked about Pumpy’s, she said girls have a vagina and boys have a penis and sometimes boys’ penises are hidden inside a sheaf like this.” \n\nThe mottled pink and black pads of her fingers traced the outline of his sheath from opening down to where it met his balls. The border collie shivered a little with the light touch.\n\n“Sheath. That’s right, though. A lot of boys have sheaths that protect their penises. Some don’t, but it’s pretty common. It keeps the penis clean and doesn’t let it get knocked around or scratched. Your mom could have told you about babies at the same time she told you about the rest, but whatever, I guess.”\n\nShe kept running her fingers over his junk and asked, “What do babies have to do with penises and vaginas?”\n\nHe leaned his head back to gaze at the ceiling for a moment before saying, “That’s probably a conversation that Mama should be here for, but I suppose she trusted me enough to do other stuff with you. Ok, so…y’know how playgrounds have slides?”\n\n“Uh huh.”\n\n“Slides started as tools, like the garbage chutes at the ends of the hallways. Things to help move stuff from up high to down low. People figured out that those tools could also be fun to play on if they were used in other places. So, like, it’s super dangerous to go down a trash chute, but if you put an angled thing on a playground or over a pool, hey…now it’s fun. Make sense?”\n\n“I think so?”\n\n“Anyway, you know how you pee from very close to your vagina? And how Pumpkin pees from his penis?”\n\nThe insides of her ears blushed again. “Uh huh.”\n\nHe chuckled and ruffled her head fur. “Well…ok…so, the stuff Pumpkin put inside you and inside your mama, that wasn’t pee.”\n\nMissa threw both arms into the air and shouted, “cum!”\n\nHe laughed so hard at that he almost accidentally knocked her off the couch. She took that as encouragement.\n\n“Cum! Jizz! Spunk!”\n\n“All right, all right,” he tickled her bare sides to quiet her. “Mama couldn’t tell ya about babies, but she sure could read you the thesaurus of sex.”\n\nBreathless, she gasped, “what’s sex?”\n\nThat made the border collie stop for a moment to pinch the bridge of his muzzle.\n\n“Ok, kiddo. I’m gonna explain the whole mess to you, if for no other reason than to stop problems in the future. Here, sit up.”\n\n“Kay.”\n\nMark had her sit crisscross on the left hand couch cushion, facing the center, and sat the same way on the right side cushion. He pulled his shirt off over his head and dropped it next to her nightdress on the floor.\n\n“Let’s pick up where we left off. Take a look at your privates.”\n\nShe bent with that semi-distressing flexibility of a kitten, paws propped on her knees, elbows on her thighs, face almost close enough for one set of lips to kiss the other.\n\n“What you see is the outside of your vagina. It’s called the vulva. See how it kinda looks like a sideways mouth?”\n\n“Yeah.”\n\n“Now, take your paws and very gently open it.” He paused while she did. “The puffy parts to either side and the thinner ones just inside are called ‘lips’, because of how they look. When you’re older, you’ll hear them called ‘labia’, but that’s just an old, old, old word for lips.”\n\nThe calico kitten ran a finger pad along the edge of an outer lip, then traced the inner one. Her finger grew damp with her fluids and Pumpkin’s lingering seed. A shudder ran through her body, and the fur down her spine stood on end. As her finger moved frontward again, it grazed a more sensitive spot. Her tail puffed up, and she choked on a squeak.\n\n“I’m still tingling from Pumpy,” she whispered. “Mama said that parts the clit. It feels good to touch, but sometimes it’s too much.”\n\nThe border collie nodded and said, “I bet. You can stop touching if you want. It makes sense if Val taught you about it when she was teaching you how to…um…practice. We can hurry through the next bit. From the front to the back, it goes clitoris,” he placed a finger pad from one paw between the knuckles at the base of two of his fingers on the other, then followed the valley between his fingers toward his palm a little, “then the urethra—that’s your pee hole,” she snickered, “then the vagina…I feel like you’re pretty familiar with that by now, then there’s a space between your privates and where you poop from. That’s all the stuff you’re already kinda used to. Right?”\n\nShe yawned while saying, “Yep.”\n\nIn a way, in a lot of ways, Mark was hoping he could bore this horny little cat into falling asleep before anything happened that would change his life.\n\n“Ok,” he said, “and you know that boys have a penis,” he pointed to his sheath and the tip of pink poking out, “and testicles…balls…down here.” He cupped his heavy scrotum in both paws. “The penis is how two things get out of the body for boys: pee and—“\n\n“And cum!” She straightened up and grinned at him.\n\n“And that. The balls make and store something called sperm and other parts make fluids to carry the sperm out. A sperm is this little tadpole-looking thing, so small you can’t see it. The balls make bunches of them and they are very important to what we’re talking about.”\n\n“Babies? Is sperm babies?”\n\n“Yes and no,” he said. “Every sperm is one half of what could become a baby. Like the milk you add to cocoa mix.”\n\nShe wriggled a little. “Kinda want cocoa now, but we don’t have any.”\n\nHe chuckled. “So the balls make sperm, which gets mixed with fluids, and that stuff comes out of the penis, like what came out of Pumpkin’s. Way inside your body, deep in where the vagina stops, is something called a uterus or womb. Have you heard either of those words?”\n\nShe shook her head.\n\n“Okay, so different kinds of people have different wombs. Some folks even have more than one. Next to the womb is something called an ovary. Usually there are at least two of those. The ovaries make eggs.”\n\nThe kitten stared, wide-eyed. “Eggs?” Her paws reached up to rub her tummy.\n\n“Yeah, but not like bird eggs. The egg for people is like the cocoa mix and the womb is like the mug. Eggs sorta float into the womb at certain times. Your mama could tell you more about how that works for cats. For dogs, it’s about every six months. Other kinds of people have different times. When there’re eggs in your womb and a boy cat does what Pumpkin did—that’s called sex, by the way—his sperm swim into the womb and find the eggs. Usually, one sperm will go into one egg. If everything goes right over the next several weeks, that little mixed up cocoa becomes a baby or a litter of babies. Babies grow inside the womb until they are ready to be born. That’s what we call pregnancy or being pregnant. When they are ready, the mama pushes them out through the vagina.” He gives a slight shudder. “It’s this normal, natural thing…but they’re, y’know, baby-sized when they come out and that kinda weirds me out a little.”\n\nThe kitten was connecting the dots in her head, rubbing her belly just below her navel. “Can…can dog sperm make babies inside a cat?”\n\n“No, honey. Especially not four-legged dogs. But, people are the same way. A horse woman can’t get pregnant from a cat man, and a pig man can’t get a rabbit woman pregnant. It’s because the half that comes from the boy and the half that comes from the girl are like the building blocks of a person. Dog blocks, cat blocks, sheep blocks, raccoon blocks…they’re all different and don’t fit together.”\n\n“Could you get me or Mama pregnant?”\n\nHe shook his head.\n\n“That’s too bad,” she mewed softly.\n\n“Why’s that, Missa?”\n\n“Cuz I wish I could have a baby or a baby brother like you.”\n\n“Awww,” he said, motioning for her to come over. As the kitten folded up in his lap with her head against his chest and her arms around his sides, he embraced her and said, “That’s real sweet of you, Miss Missa. What you should always remember, though, is that sex can feel like a game but pregnancy can be very uncomfortable and dangerous. Not every pregnancy works right. Sometimes the baby or the mother can be hurt very badly. Also, there’s a lot of very serious responsibility to being a parent. You’re taking care of a little person, after all. Just like you.”\n\nThey stayed cuddled up for a couple minutes before the sound of steps at the door and keys jangling broke them out of their rest. The kitten exploded out of his lap at the same time the golden retriever launched from his bed. They both thundered through the apartment to meet Valerie as she entered.\n\n“Hi, baby girl,” the mother said with a grunt and she lifted Melissa’s naked body into a big hug. “I guess you two haven’t done much without me.”\n\n“Nah,” Mark said from the couch. “She’d have been stuck here with me if we had. Welcome back, Val.”\n\n“Mama! Mark told me where babies come from!”\n\nVal turned to the kitten in her arms, saying, “Did he? And what do you think? Was it a good explanation?”\n\n“It got a little boring a couple of times and I got a little distracted looking at his penis, but I think it was good.”\n\n“And how do you feel after your game with Pumpy? Are you sore and tired, or do you want to have some more fun tonight?”\n\nMelissa squirmed free and ran back to the couch shouting, “More fun!”\n\nThe border collie half laughed at the kitten bouncing beside him and half groaned at what was developing into an unbearable situation. He glanced to her mother at the door for help he already knew wouldn’t come in the form he wanted. Valerie fixed him with a look, equal parts hunger and mischief. She slipped her jacket off and draped it from a hook behind the door. As she turned around to face him again, she smoothly flicked the deadbolt closed.\n\nVal smirked, as if to say “You and I both know you can leave whenever you want, but do you really want to?” \n\nA short whine escaped the border collie, but he couldn’t keep his tail from wagging when more and more of Valerie’s gunmetal fur caught the light. \n\n[to be continued]", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Keeping up with the Joneses (Part 1)

The ceramic bowl on the side table rang like a bell with the impact of a keyring, as a pair of sneakers offered a chatter of thumps below, the weekday signal that work was done and it was finally time to decompress. A soft click announced the exclusion of the outside world behind an apartment door with more pre-installed locks than one would hope to see in an access controlled building. The tall border collie rarely locked more than the knob, if he was honest. If someone wanted to break in so badly that they got through the locked entrances on the ground floor, past the security desk and the elevators, and around the hallway security cameras, there’s not a deadbolt or chain or whatever that would stop them from kicking the door in and being horribly disappointed by the spartan apartment they found.

While the singing of the catch-all bowl slowly faded, the dog strolled into the living room and started pulling off his work clothes. Wear-wrinkled slacks splayed through the air with the kick of a leg, and a polo shirt with an embroidered logo that seemingly would never not be stiffer than steel plate landed beside them on the back of the couch. Grabbing the discarded clothes, he padded barefoot into the bedroom and tossed them into the hamper. Late afternoon sun poured a swath of liquid gold across the bedroom carpet and halfway up the patchwork black and white fur of his body. It felt better than sinking into any hot tub.

The border collie glanced down at his half-lit belly as he pushed the underwear down my legs. Pink ghosts of two-day-old lipstick marks were still faintly visible in the fine white fluff, a wandering line of kiss and nibble tracks from chest to sheath. At least Val kept it below the neck last time. He didn’t need coworkers having a reason to try and strike up a personal conversation. At the same time that the pair of boxer briefs landed on top of the hamper, a tinkle of digital wind chimes announced a new text message on the phone he forgot to remove from his slacks.

The display lit up when he extracted the device from his hamper. “New text message from Valerie Jones” sat at the top of a notification feed littered with news and weather notifications the dog never bothered to read. Speak of the devil.

“Hey, are you home tonight?”

The long, feathery fur of his tail swished with the gentle wag that kicked up. He replied with a characteristically short “yep” and sauntered over to lay on the bed.

Another round of chimes. “Can you come to my place? I need some help with something.”

The wagging increased, eliciting a sound from the bed linens like a flag in a stiff breeze. Replying that he would be there in a couple minutes, the dog hopped up and threw on some shorts and a t-shirt. “Help with something” usually meant that the cat needed to blow off some steam, which usually meant a new trail of lipstick and waking up with noticeably lighter balls. It looked like it was going to be a fun Thursday night and a rough Friday morning.

The old elevator hummed and wobbled on the way down from the eleventh floor to the eighth. The border collie’s bare footsteps stopped in front of 812, where he gave a triple knock with the knuckle of his right index finger. There was a muted sound of bedlam from the other side of the door that swelled to a cacophony when the door swung open and the bright green eyes of an exasperated blue-grey feline glanced out.

The relief on her face was monumental when she gasped, “Mark, oh my god, thank you for coming!”

“Of course! I didn’t have anyth—“

A rumble of feet inside her apartment cut him off, as a calico kitten of six years sprinted through the living room behind her mother. Clad in a powder blue nightshirt, the girl giggled and shouted “PUMPY” in delight as she ran. The family dog, a two-year-old golden retriever with all the grace and poise of a windblown napkin, pinballed through the furniture with big, floppy bounds. He caught sight of the border collie at the door and wheeled past the kitten in a full gallop. Val was jostled to the side by the passage of the dog, who jumped up to place both front paws against Mark’s chest.

“Hey, Pumpkin,” the man chuckled, scratching behind the beast’s ears. “So, what’s up?”

The elder cat coaxed him in and closed the door, before the retriever could get any ideas about starting an impromptu game of tag through the corridors. While the girl and dog resumed their chase, Val lead the border collie into her bedroom. She had on a sleek, dark, knee-length skirt that hugged the curves of her hips and thighs like a drowning man. A black bra played hide-and-seek behind the straps and low lace collar of a salmon pink camisole she wore tucked into the waist of the skirt. As she went back to preening at the vanity mirror, she explained.

“You know that work dinner party I have tonight,” she muttered as a mascara brush swept across the curves of her eyelashes. “Mingling and all the miserable stuff, but I have to at least show face I want to look ‘committed’…whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean. I had a babysitter scheduled for Missa, but she’s laid up with a broken leg.”

Mark rested his backside against her dresser and crossed his arms. “Fuck,” he retorted. “Which one was it? The capybara kid from third floor?”

“No, she went and got a job. This was Rina, that pronghorn from up your way.”

He’d seen the family around the complex a time or two. Rina was one of those active teens involved with, like, two dozen sports. Deep brown eyes, a cute fucking smile, and a body that belied her age in a dangerous way.

“Poor kid.”

Val scoffed as she moved from her vanity to the closet. Catching his eye briefly in the mirrored door, she gave a tail flip and wrinkled her nose. Velvety grey arms rummaged for a suit jacket.

“Poor her? She’s the one that decided to have only hobbies that could send her fit ass to the hospital. Now I’ve got no time to find another brat to keep the kiddo alive for the night.” She folded a jacket over her arms and turned to him with a sigh. “I didn’t want to bother you with it, but I don’t feel like I’ve got a choice. Could you please help me out?”

He met her earnestness with a lopsided smile and said, “Sure thing, mama. Missa and Pumpkin both get along fine with me. Just gotta put food in her, let the dog out to pee, and try not to get trampled before bed. How hard could it be?”

“Well, you won’t have to feed her; she just finished supper. Pumpkin is fine going on his pad on balcony for the night. And you probably won’t have to put up—” A burst of thunderous footfalls and riotous giggling broke in from the living room and hallway. “—with all that for much longer.”

“Yeah, sounds like they should run themselves out pretty soon.”

“That and the melatonin chews she just had will drop her like a rock in about an hour.”

“See? Piece of cake. May be able to just huck the goofball into bed and sit up watching videos of you I’ve got on my phone until you get home.”

The cat swung the jacket over her shoulders and slipped her arms into the sleeves. Something about the cut of the thing accented her slim waist and modest chest. It was just the right cross of severity and sensuality, and Mark found himself wishing that she didn’t have a work thing (and that Melissa’s dad had custody tonight). The relief and happiness on Valerie’s face hit his heart like a ton of bricks.

Strolling up to him and pressing her chest against his, she slipped her muzzle under his chin and gave a quick nip at his neck. “Thank you so much. Don’t go too crazy with those videos, or you won’t be able to enjoy the real thing this weekend.”

The border collie whimpered softly and squirmed as he felt the pointed tip of his cock nudge out of its sheath and graze the inside of his shorts. He gave her a little lick on the forehead and reached one paw around the small of her back to press her belly against his half-hardness.

“Oh, I think I’ll manage,” he growled into the fur between her ears.

Once the rushed mother had herself together, she caught Melissa on the fly and gave her a big hug and a kiss. The squealing kid was back off like a shot when she hit the floor, and Val went off to catch a train downtown.

Mark turned to his charges for the evening. Melissa had Pumpkin rolled onto his back on the living room floor and was blowing truly obnoxious raspberries into the dog’s belly while all four of his legs kicked wildly in the air. The border collie circled around to the front of the couch and flopped down, surreptitiously adjusting himself so his waning arousal could die down without notice.

Some cartoon or other chattered on the television, all bright colors and painfully high voices. He kicked his bare feet up on the coffee table and slipped his phone out while the pair wrestled on the floor. A shriek snapped him out of forty-five minutes of scrolling through social media, and he glanced up to find that a juice box had been knocked off of the table. It had mercifully landed upright on floor, so the carpet wasn’t fouled. But, the impact had caused a jet of bright red fruit punch to shoot across the kitten’s night dress, leaving a streak from one shoulder down to her opposite hip. That was going to stain if it sat too long.

“Whoop!” The border collie hopped up and scooped the girl up into his arms. “C’mon, Missa, let’s go get you changed out of this so I can wash it.”

He carried her into her bedroom and set her back on her feet. It took a couple of tries to find the drawer with her sleepwear in it, but he finally turned around with a clean nightdress. Melissa stood with her arms up and legs braced a little more than shoulder width apart, waiting for the new dress. Her patchy white, orange, grey, and black fur was bare from head to toe. As his glance ran down her body, past her too-visible crotch, his eyes settled on her discarded outfit. Only the punch streaked nightdress lay on the floor, so he figured she must not have had panties on in the first place. He snorted at that and shook his head. Kids were wild to him, and he’d never be sure if shit like that was normal or not. With a swift motion, he whipped the new dress over her head and down to cover her utterly absent modesty.

“There you go, Miss Missa. I’ll go start this washing before it gets stained. You go grab that juice box and put it on the kitchen table, okay? Don’t need your mom coming home to a crime scene.”

She bounced on her toes and mewled, “kay!” before running back out of the room.

The bedlam and laughter in the living room faded away as Mark padded into the laundry area, a stacked washer and dryer tucked away behind the master bathroom door. He set about hitting the red streak with pre-treater and tossed it in the washer for a quick cycle. As the machine whirred and splattered to life, wind chimes echoed in the cramped room. Val had sent him a photo from her table at the dinner party: an out of focus shot of her bare pussy lips, glistening faintly in the light of her phone’s flash, she must have snuck from under her skirt and the table cloth. He was surrounded by girls who refused to wear underwear, it seemed.

“Keep this up and you won’t be able to walk on Monday,” he typed back, making a quick adjustment of his hardening bits that reminded him that he was just as guilty of wandering around with no knickers on. He took a moment to settle down before heading back out.

Things were surprisingly quiet when Mark walked down the hallway. There was still cartoon chatter and the rhythmic panting of the golden retriever from the other side of the couch. The only other sound was what had to be faint snoring. He guessed that the melatonin crash must have finally hit. That was great, because she was one of those kids who wouldn’t wake up in an earthquake. Now he could put her in bed and exchange some dirty messages with her mom until she got home. Maybe he could even sneak off to the master bath to jerk off.

All of those thoughts vanished when he got close enough to see over the couch. Melissa was fully asleep on the living room floor, in that position kids seem to always end up in when they crash hard: face down, arms splayed out, knees tucked, ass in the air. He would have laughed, except that her nightshirt had ridden up to her chest, and Pumpkin was obviously tied with the little girl. The dog’s tail wagged when he saw Mark, long golden fur sweeping back and forth across the kitten’s bare butt cheeks.

“Oh shit,” the border collie gasped. “Pumpkin, what the fuck?”

He swung around the couch, not noticing when his shin caught the coffee table hard. He crouched down next to the pair, checking to see if the girl was ok. He guessed that she was more or less fine. Whatever the retriever’s swollen cock might be doing to her insides, she was completely out and snoring quietly. He groaned, still on the verge of a panic attack, and muttered some very mean comments to a canine far too deep in a climax to understand or care.

He had to tell Val. There was no possible way he could tell Val, but he had to. She was going to be furious. Forget fucking her this weekend: even if she didn’t press charges, she’d probably never talk to him again. He glanced down at the phone he had unknowingly already taken out. In the moments before tapping Valerie’s contact he had just enough time to acknowledge that his own dick couldn’t decide if it wanted to rocket out of his shorts or pop inside and just become an internal organ forever.

“Excuse me guys, it’s the babysitter,” he heard come from the device he still hadn’t brought to his ear. “Hey, what’s up? Is everything okay?”

The border collie licked his lips, wetting nothing. His mouth could have been made of cotton.

“Helloooo,” came the voice on the line. “Mark, you there?”

His voice creaked to life, sounding like a stranger to himself. “Um, Val? Are you…surrounded by people right now?”

There was a laugh on the other end. “It’s a party, so yeah.”

“Can you not be? I’m freaking the fuck out here.”

“What happened?” The concern from his tone now bled into hers.

Mark hissed into the phone, “I just found your dog fucking your daughter!”

It felt like three hours before the speaker crackled with a low, “Hang on,” and the call disconnected. Could it have gone worse? He didn’t even know what her reaction was. Was she making an excuse to step away? Returning home early to kill him? Calling the cops?

Pumpkin must have read the tension. He stopped wagging and started to move away. His frame was slightly bigger than the kitten’s, and his motion pulled the girl with him. The border collie grabbed the retriever’s collar to hold him still and keep Missa from getting any more injured than she might already be. When the phone rang with a video call, Mark damned near jumped out of his skin.

The call connected and revealed Valerie, jacket off, standing in what looked like a single-occupancy restroom. Her expression was unreadable, but he had all kinds of guesses about what she was feeling.

“Just breathe, Mark.” Her voice was low and calm. “Let me see.”

“What?” he yelped.

“Flip the camera and show me what’s going on.”

How the fuck was she this calm? Her six-year-old was…was…. He shuddered.

“Okay. All right, here,” he said as he tapped the button to switch to the back camera.

The little inset window that showed his side of the call flipped over to reveal the dog and girl joined at the back ends. Pumpkin was wagging again, freshly excited by the sound of his owner’s voice. Melissa’s tail hung limp to one side, only the tip twitching occasionally with whatever dreams she was having.

“Holy shit,” Valerie gasped. The phone showed her wide eyes staring just below the camera, pupils narrow as knives and darting rapidly. “Did he seriously get inside her?”

“Val! Would I have called you if he hadn’t? I had to grab the sonofabitch to stop him from dragging her all over the fucking apartment.”

“Can you get a different angle?” She sounded breathless. Her face was close to her phone as if she was trying to get a better look. “I just want to, y’know, make sure she’s not hurt.”

He blinked at the screen. The fuck did she want him to do, reach under the pair and show her from below?

“Just slip you phone under them.” So, yeah then. She was panting now, too. “Check for blood or signs of tearing.”

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned. “That can happen?”

“I dunno, probably. Just look. Close.”

Mark laid on his side, still holding the retriever’s collar. From underneath, he couldn’t see anything that implied injury. There were thin, milky dribbles sneaking out from between the dog and girl, tracing the curve of her mound to drip onto the carpet. The scent was unreal. He switched on the flash and pointed the camera up. The retriever’s thick orange fur hid their union, so the border collie had to lay his phone on the floor and use his paw to shift the fur. All the while, he tried not to touch the girl.

“I don’t see any blood. That’s something, at least.”

She breathed a quick, “that’s good!” A creak in the background suggested that she had sat down on the toilet seat.

The border collie withdrew and lifted himself back up to kneeling. Still holding the golden retriever with one paw, he switched off the flash and looked at the screen. Val’s ears were flushed a deep red that he’d only seen when they were tangled together in bed (or the shower…or on the couch). She was no longer right up on the camera, so he could clearly see a blue-grey paw squeezing one of her breasts through the camisole and bra.

“Valerie,” he whisper-yelled, “the fuck are you doing?”

“Shhh,” she hissed back. “She’s out cold, probably doesn’t feel a thing, and doesn’t seem to be injured.”

“That doesn’t—”

“Besides, you can’t tell me this isn’t hot as fuck. I know what he feels like, but it probably feels so much bigger in her.”

The paw vanished from her chest, and he listened in shock as wet sounds from off screen let him know that it had found its way to her pussy. Between that and the sights and smells in the room with him, Mark’s dick finally reached a decision and rapidly pushed out of his sheath. It was awful. The way Melissa’s red, swollen lips stretched painfully from the resistance they put up against the retriever’s knot had him terrified for her wellbeing, and Val’s behavior was unbelievable. He also couldn’t deny that it was all a powerful turn on. But…

“Hold up,” the border collie barked suddenly. “What the fuck did you say?”

The grey cat laughed hard enough he almost thought she’d tumble off the throne. She pulled her free paw back up and pressed damp fingers to her nose. Her gorgeous eyes half-closed and she moaned.

“Did you think yours was the only huge knot I’ve had locked in me?”

He blinked at his phone. “I hadn’t really thought about it. Just figured any other dogs you fucked would have jobs and pay taxes and shit.”

She slipped her fingers into her mouth, sucking and licking them clean of her juices. After she withdrew them with a slow drag down her barbed tongue, she licked her lips said, “Well, there’ve been a couple of those, too. But, sometimes a girl needs something a little closer to home. Besides, he rails me like a I’m a thing, so it scratches very different itches.”

Mark sat back on his heels and stared at the scene in front of him. Suddenly it wasn’t the little calico he saw but her mother, fully nude and grinding on the tie like a person possessed. It was a view he’d seen dozens of times, but seeing from a perspective other than his usual one gave him a jolt. The thought of watching Val on the ground, at the mercy of a beast mindless and bent on fucking her into the carpet, sent a squirt of precome against his straining shorts. The fluid beaded out through the fabric and slowly darkened the front.

All he could do was hold Pumpkin in place and switch his view between the dog’s twitching backside and the masturbating cat on his phone. After what felt like an eternity, the retriever’s orgasm wound down and he shrank enough to release. With a shift of his weight, Pumpkin’s knot slipped free with an incredible wet sucking sound. Mark—with Valerie still on the call—released the retriever’s collar, and the adults watched as ten inches of artery-laced red and pink cock flopped out of the kitten. His pulse was thundering so hard in his ears that the border collie didn’t catch the little noise that came from Missa’s carpet-muffled mouth. The golden retriever wandered over to lay by the sliding door to the balcony and lick his junk clean. Aa far as Mark could see, there was still no sign of injury on the girl.

“Thank fuck that’s over,” the man grunted. “It may have been hot or whatever, but I was so worried he was wrecking her.”

The mother responded between shallow, panting breaths, “If you don’t think you’ll barf into her, let’s check and make sure there’s no damage.”

“Jesus, Val!”

She laughed. “Just swing around behind, and let’s see how she looks. It can’t be more jarring than what you’ve already seen.”

While the onscreen cat sat upright and licked her fingers again, Mark eased around behind the sleeping kitten. Melissa still lay in that awkward position. In the living room lights, almost everything was on full display. The white fur of her thighs was blocked with overlapping patches of black and orange. Amid the white of her crotch, plastered flat with semen and her own juices, Missa’s slit was transformed into a yawning cavern. The lips should have been pink but were now bright red, flushed from the aggressive thrusting and her body’s natural reaction to being plowed. The angle of the light left the interior of her vagina in darkness but still illuminated the short patch of fur that lead up to her balloon knot and tail base. It was no small comfort that there was no sign of injury on the outside, but an uncomfortable curiosity was setting in.

The man cleared his throat and asked, “Should we check…umm…inside?”

“I was about to suggest it,” Val replied with a tone he couldn’t place. “I just didn’t know how you’d react.”

“I mean, we should make sure she’s ok, right?”

Without waiting for a response, the border collie switch the flash back on and aimed the light and camera into the void. The kitten’s walls were still slick and glistening with fluids from both her and the retriever, but their slow narrowing kept the level of dog spunk even with the opening and ensured that a thin trickle of the stuff kept running out of her and over her clitoris on its way to the carpet. The light reflected on a settled pool of milky white with a bump of red-pink nearly submerged at the far end. It took a moment for Mark to realize he was looking at Missa’s cervix, practically drowning in dog semen. Based on the sounds coming from his phone, her speechless mother was furiously attacking her own pussy.

“Mark,” a low, breathless voice slurred, “show me how hard you are right now.”

The border collie was too far gone at this point to protest. As surreal as all of this was, he could reasonably convince himself it was all a dream to be awoken from on Valerie’s couch, while the child and dog slept in the middle of the night. He used his free hand to push his shorts down off of his tail and rump, then pointed the camera at the straining tent in the front as the waistband caught on his throbbing erection. With a clumsy tug, the band slipped over and his bright red arousal sprang out with a slim arc of precome that slung out to land on the calico’s backside.

Valerie moaned in her shelter away from the party. The paw that wasn’t occupied with holding her phone was back under her skirt, three fingers buried to the last knuckle in her aching cunt. Watching Mark’s cock fly out of his shorts and stand in full glory on the screen, while her daughter still lay stretched and dripping within the camera frame, had her wishing she’d stayed in the apartment complex for this. The party was real, and so was her need to show up and be seen, but it was also the only way to set things up. Now, though, she stared at the screen with a hunger that her fingers alone couldn’t sate. She just had to be careful, because running home right now would turn everything upside down. She had to stay on task, maybe squeeze out a couple more little orgasms, then hurry back when she knew things were…locked in. The unintended pun pushed her snarl of lust closer to a grin of amusement.

“Hey,” she said in an almost-whisper, “why not put it in while you’re there.”

The view on the screen shuddered with his shock, but that beautiful rosy shaft bounced in a way that said it at least agreed with her. Mark’s face suddenly appeared, from a low angle at which she was fairly used to seeing it. His eyes were wide, but his nose was flaring less like anger and more like zeroing in on a hunted scent. The way it twitched toward the offscreen kitten, despite his gaze locked on his phone, let her know she almost had him.

“Valerie, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

The tone was still low, to avoid waking Melissa, but carried confusion, fear, and she figured some anger that may be directed at her or himself. Maybe both. He wasn’t ready, but he also wasn’t shutting down. She’d have to dance around this carefully. The paw working her pussy over slowed so the gunmetal cat could focus.

Val gave the border collie an earnest look and said, “There’s at least some part of you that wants to.” A sharp downward flick of her dark green eyes underlined and clarified her words.

Mark’s face eased a little deeper into fear, tinged with guilt. He ran his free paw down his face like it could wipe away everything that was happening in front of him and said, “With the scents in this room and,” he glanced up and away from the phone and swallowed hard, “everything else that’s happened tonight, of course the urge is there. But no urge on earth is strong enough to make me rape a fucking child.”

His expression turned to a hard glare, accompanied by a deep growl that punctuated his last sentence, surprising the mother cat. Not only was it a sterner vibe than usual from the dog, the protectiveness toward her daughter fanned her flames hotter than ever. It was time to lock in and bring out the ace in the hole.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of making you do something like that.”

“Sounded an awful lot like you were.” The growl was still there under his words.

She sat up and leaned forward, smiling but holding him with serious eyes. “No, Mark. Hon, I know how this probably looks from your point of view, but she’s my baby. I would never have you force yourself on her, sleeping or otherwise. She asked for this.”

“Stop fucking around, Valerie,” he growled. “Shit sounds like you blaming her for—“

“Christ, Mark, I’m not victim blaming her, and it’s not a justification. She wanted to know what it was like. Not just with Pumpkin but with you, too. Isn’t that right, baby?”

In the living room, Mark almost shot out of his skin when a small, sheepish voice mewled, “Uh huh.”

The border collie’s head snapped to Melissa’s face, barely visible over her shoulder. The insides of the kitten’s ears were blushed almost as deep a red as her battered sex. One ice blue eye peered over her shoulder, past her butt, right at his face.

“Missa,” he croaked, “what…no. What are you two talking about? You didn’t actually want all of this did you?”

Her face ducked away, embarrassed, and she muttered into the carpet, “I told Mama I watched her sometimes. When I’m in bed and I hear sounds in Mama’s room, I sometimes sneak out to watch under the door. Sometimes it’s just Mama putting clothes away or watching something on her phone and touching…down there. I also seen her playing a weird game with Pumpy and it sounded like it hurt but it looked like it felt good for Mama and Pumpy and then there was some times when you came to see with Mama after I went to bed and I saw that too and I told Mama I saw all those things and asked her—“

She was talking so fast and quiet that Mark had to stop her. “Hey, hey…slow down. No one’s mad, and you’re not in trouble. Just…here.”

The border collie tossed his phone onto the couch and picked the kitten up with both arms. As he lifted her, the surprise made her clench up and, as she squeaked, a full load of golden retriever semen squelched out of the young cat, ran down her leg, and landed on the carpet. She was still dripping as he cradled her close to his chest and carried her to the couch. His shorts fell the rest of the way down as he stood and walked, so he kicked them off to keep from tripping.

Flopping onto the couch, Mark kept the girl in a snug embrace. He freed one hand to grab his phone and lift it up. The screen showed acoustic tiles and a half dozen Edison style bulbs over the top of a mirror. The border collie guessed that the garbled sounds were handwashing. While he waited for the mother cat to reappear on the screen, he gave Melissa a kiss on the forehead. She squirmed a little and buried her face under his chin. Her breath in the thick fur of his neck felt like words too muffled to reach his ears.

“Hmm?”

She pulled away, sitting upright with arms braced against his chest. His erection had calmed enough to lay flat in the valley of his lap. Now that she had rocked back, though, her bottom sandwiched it against his legs. The tickle of fine fur against his shaft, with the added heat of mixed fluids running out of her and over the bare flesh, already threatened to drive the organ back to full hardness.

“You’re really not mad?”

He moved his paw from around the small of her back and cupped the side of her face. A thumb smoothed the ginger fur of her cheek, slicking her whiskers back briefly.

“No, Missa. I’m worried about you—and a bit about your mama—but I’m not mad.”

Her head leaned into the caress and she spoke with a faint purr.

“You said a lot of really bad stuff, even at Pumpy, so I thought you hated us.”

“Nah,” he grunted, bringing her back in for a hug to comfort her and give his dick a reprieve from her wet heat. “I like you and your mama a whole lot, kitten. You’re right that I said some bad stuff. It isn’t an excuse, but I thought you were fast asleep and wouldn’t hear it. And I was very upset with Pumpkin, because he could have hurt you doing that.”

“We were very careful,” Valerie said, back in frame. The background was moving behind her as she straightened her outfit to get ready to leave the bathroom. “We practiced together with toys of various sizes. I told her I’ve played games like that for a long time, but that she needed to start small and work up to be able to play with Pumpkin or with you.”

Mark chuckled into the fur of the little girl’s head and quipped, “Miss Missa hasn’t had to push any kittens out of hers either.”

“Huh?” the kitten mewed. “Whazzat mean?”

The border collie shot a glance at his phone, where Valerie snickered and said, “Ah…I may have accidentally skipped something important.”

“Val.”

“What? She was starting out with canines, so it didn’t really come to mind.”

“…Val. Seriously.”

There was a scratching at the balcony door. The patch of fake grass and absorbent padding that handled Pumpkin’s business between walks was out on the balcony, nestled against a corner of the short wall that hemmed the small space. Apparently the golden retriever needed to take a post-coital constitutional.

Mark patted the kitten’s back and said, “Missa, hon, could you please let Pumpkin out to potty?”

“Sure!” the kitten chirped.

Still naked as a jaybird, Melissa hopped off of Mark’s lap and padded across the room to open the door for the dog, who rushed out and relieved himself immediately. A few kicks at the mat and balcony floor punctuated his comfort break, from which he trotted back in and flopped onto his bed across the living room. The heavy sigh and little shifting motions the retriever made indicated he was on his way to a recuperative nap.

The calico left the sliding door ajar and glanced back at the border collie on the couch with a faint look of mischief she must have learned from watching her mom. She swept out through the open door and, holding a finger to her muzzle in the universal “our secret” sign, squatted down facing him. The man’s jaw dropped as his tiny ward released an aggressive stream of piss into the plastic grass mat, tail high and quivering. She dabbed herself with a paw and bolted into the kitchen to wash up. Mark’s jaw didn’t snap shut again until Valerie’s voice came again.

“Anyway,” Val sighed, “tell you what, I’m gonna hang up for now and go make some excuse to leave. I should be able to get home in half an hour or so.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I’ve had plenty of these idiots and am ready for a more,” she paused with a smirk, “intimate atmosphere.”

The border collie’s tail thumped against the back of the couch. “Guess we’ll see you in a little bit then.”

Missa suddenly crawled over the back of the couch and landed with a giggle into his lap. “Mama, you’re coming home?”

“Yep, sweetie! Mama wants to play with you and Mark some before bed.”

The kitten cheered and threw her arms around Mark’s neck. They said goodbye to Valerie and stayed cuddled on the couch for a few minutes. It wasn’t too long before the girl was lying across the couch, head on the border collie’s lap, poking playfully at the sheath that once again mostly contained his cock. When it poked its tip out, she laughed and looked up at him with her mismatched eyes.

“Why’s it hide like that?”

“Well,” he said, reaching down to rub one of her ears, “a lot of folks have…uh…what words do you and your mama use for boys’ and girls’ private parts?”

“When Mama told me about our privates and talked about Pumpy’s, she said girls have a vagina and boys have a penis and sometimes boys’ penises are hidden inside a sheaf like this.”

The mottled pink and black pads of her fingers traced the outline of his sheath from opening down to where it met his balls. The border collie shivered a little with the light touch.

“Sheath. That’s right, though. A lot of boys have sheaths that protect their penises. Some don’t, but it’s pretty common. It keeps the penis clean and doesn’t let it get knocked around or scratched. Your mom could have told you about babies at the same time she told you about the rest, but whatever, I guess.”

She kept running her fingers over his junk and asked, “What do babies have to do with penises and vaginas?”

He leaned his head back to gaze at the ceiling for a moment before saying, “That’s probably a conversation that Mama should be here for, but I suppose she trusted me enough to do other stuff with you. Ok, so…y’know how playgrounds have slides?”

“Uh huh.”

“Slides started as tools, like the garbage chutes at the ends of the hallways. Things to help move stuff from up high to down low. People figured out that those tools could also be fun to play on if they were used in other places. So, like, it’s super dangerous to go down a trash chute, but if you put an angled thing on a playground or over a pool, hey…now it’s fun. Make sense?”

“I think so?”

“Anyway, you know how you pee from very close to your vagina? And how Pumpkin pees from his penis?”

The insides of her ears blushed again. “Uh huh.”

He chuckled and ruffled her head fur. “Well…ok…so, the stuff Pumpkin put inside you and inside your mama, that wasn’t pee.”

Missa threw both arms into the air and shouted, “cum!”

He laughed so hard at that he almost accidentally knocked her off the couch. She took that as encouragement.

“Cum! Jizz! Spunk!”

“All right, all right,” he tickled her bare sides to quiet her. “Mama couldn’t tell ya about babies, but she sure could read you the thesaurus of sex.”

Breathless, she gasped, “what’s sex?”

That made the border collie stop for a moment to pinch the bridge of his muzzle.

“Ok, kiddo. I’m gonna explain the whole mess to you, if for no other reason than to stop problems in the future. Here, sit up.”

“Kay.”

Mark had her sit crisscross on the left hand couch cushion, facing the center, and sat the same way on the right side cushion. He pulled his shirt off over his head and dropped it next to her nightdress on the floor.

“Let’s pick up where we left off. Take a look at your privates.”

She bent with that semi-distressing flexibility of a kitten, paws propped on her knees, elbows on her thighs, face almost close enough for one set of lips to kiss the other.

“What you see is the outside of your vagina. It’s called the vulva. See how it kinda looks like a sideways mouth?”

“Yeah.”

“Now, take your paws and very gently open it.” He paused while she did. “The puffy parts to either side and the thinner ones just inside are called ‘lips’, because of how they look. When you’re older, you’ll hear them called ‘labia’, but that’s just an old, old, old word for lips.”

The calico kitten ran a finger pad along the edge of an outer lip, then traced the inner one. Her finger grew damp with her fluids and Pumpkin’s lingering seed. A shudder ran through her body, and the fur down her spine stood on end. As her finger moved frontward again, it grazed a more sensitive spot. Her tail puffed up, and she choked on a squeak.

“I’m still tingling from Pumpy,” she whispered. “Mama said that parts the clit. It feels good to touch, but sometimes it’s too much.”

The border collie nodded and said, “I bet. You can stop touching if you want. It makes sense if Val taught you about it when she was teaching you how to…um…practice. We can hurry through the next bit. From the front to the back, it goes clitoris,” he placed a finger pad from one paw between the knuckles at the base of two of his fingers on the other, then followed the valley between his fingers toward his palm a little, “then the urethra—that’s your pee hole,” she snickered, “then the vagina…I feel like you’re pretty familiar with that by now, then there’s a space between your privates and where you poop from. That’s all the stuff you’re already kinda used to. Right?”

She yawned while saying, “Yep.”

In a way, in a lot of ways, Mark was hoping he could bore this horny little cat into falling asleep before anything happened that would change his life.

“Ok,” he said, “and you know that boys have a penis,” he pointed to his sheath and the tip of pink poking out, “and testicles…balls…down here.” He cupped his heavy scrotum in both paws. “The penis is how two things get out of the body for boys: pee and—“

“And cum!” She straightened up and grinned at him.

“And that. The balls make and store something called sperm and other parts make fluids to carry the sperm out. A sperm is this little tadpole-looking thing, so small you can’t see it. The balls make bunches of them and they are very important to what we’re talking about.”

“Babies? Is sperm babies?”

“Yes and no,” he said. “Every sperm is one half of what could become a baby. Like the milk you add to cocoa mix.”

She wriggled a little. “Kinda want cocoa now, but we don’t have any.”

He chuckled. “So the balls make sperm, which gets mixed with fluids, and that stuff comes out of the penis, like what came out of Pumpkin’s. Way inside your body, deep in where the vagina stops, is something called a uterus or womb. Have you heard either of those words?”

She shook her head.

“Okay, so different kinds of people have different wombs. Some folks even have more than one. Next to the womb is something called an ovary. Usually there are at least two of those. The ovaries make eggs.”

The kitten stared, wide-eyed. “Eggs?” Her paws reached up to rub her tummy.

“Yeah, but not like bird eggs. The egg for people is like the cocoa mix and the womb is like the mug. Eggs sorta float into the womb at certain times. Your mama could tell you more about how that works for cats. For dogs, it’s about every six months. Other kinds of people have different times. When there’re eggs in your womb and a boy cat does what Pumpkin did—that’s called sex, by the way—his sperm swim into the womb and find the eggs. Usually, one sperm will go into one egg. If everything goes right over the next several weeks, that little mixed up cocoa becomes a baby or a litter of babies. Babies grow inside the womb until they are ready to be born. That’s what we call pregnancy or being pregnant. When they are ready, the mama pushes them out through the vagina.” He gives a slight shudder. “It’s this normal, natural thing…but they’re, y’know, baby-sized when they come out and that kinda weirds me out a little.”

The kitten was connecting the dots in her head, rubbing her belly just below her navel. “Can…can dog sperm make babies inside a cat?”

“No, honey. Especially not four-legged dogs. But, people are the same way. A horse woman can’t get pregnant from a cat man, and a pig man can’t get a rabbit woman pregnant. It’s because the half that comes from the boy and the half that comes from the girl are like the building blocks of a person. Dog blocks, cat blocks, sheep blocks, raccoon blocks…they’re all different and don’t fit together.”

“Could you get me or Mama pregnant?”

He shook his head.

“That’s too bad,” she mewed softly.

“Why’s that, Missa?”

“Cuz I wish I could have a baby or a baby brother like you.”

“Awww,” he said, motioning for her to come over. As the kitten folded up in his lap with her head against his chest and her arms around his sides, he embraced her and said, “That’s real sweet of you, Miss Missa. What you should always remember, though, is that sex can feel like a game but pregnancy can be very uncomfortable and dangerous. Not every pregnancy works right. Sometimes the baby or the mother can be hurt very badly. Also, there’s a lot of very serious responsibility to being a parent. You’re taking care of a little person, after all. Just like you.”

They stayed cuddled up for a couple minutes before the sound of steps at the door and keys jangling broke them out of their rest. The kitten exploded out of his lap at the same time the golden retriever launched from his bed. They both thundered through the apartment to meet Valerie as she entered.

“Hi, baby girl,” the mother said with a grunt and she lifted Melissa’s naked body into a big hug. “I guess you two haven’t done much without me.”

“Nah,” Mark said from the couch. “She’d have been stuck here with me if we had. Welcome back, Val.”

“Mama! Mark told me where babies come from!”

Val turned to the kitten in her arms, saying, “Did he? And what do you think? Was it a good explanation?”

“It got a little boring a couple of times and I got a little distracted looking at his penis, but I think it was good.”

“And how do you feel after your game with Pumpy? Are you sore and tired, or do you want to have some more fun tonight?”

Melissa squirmed free and ran back to the couch shouting, “More fun!”

The border collie half laughed at the kitten bouncing beside him and half groaned at what was developing into an unbearable situation. He glanced to her mother at the door for help he already knew wouldn’t come in the form he wanted. Valerie fixed him with a look, equal parts hunger and mischief. She slipped her jacket off and draped it from a hook behind the door. As she turned around to face him again, she smoothly flicked the deadbolt closed.

Val smirked, as if to say “You and I both know you can leave whenever you want, but do you really want to?”

A short whine escaped the border collie, but he couldn’t keep his tail from wagging when more and more of Valerie’s gunmetal fur caught the light.

[to be continued]", "pools_count": 0, "title": "Keeping Up With the Joneses: Part 1", "deleted": "f", "public": "t", "mimetype": "text/plain", "pagecount": "1", "rating_id": "2", "rating_name": "Adult", "ratings": [ { "content_tag_id": "4", "name": "Sexual Themes", "description": "Erotic imagery, sexual activity or arousal", "rating_id": "2" } ], "submission_type_id": "12", "type_name": "Writing - Document", "guest_block": "t", "friends_only": "f", "comments_count": "0", "views": "13" }