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Adjusting the pillows, he then lay down and positioned himself comfortably. He took the end of the boa, ran his fingers through the fur and waited until his finger slid into the join. The sound of Velcro opening seemed to fill the room. A gentle tug and the last thirteen inches separated from the boa. He pushed the end of the piece together and smiled. Now to ease the tension he was feeling.

He reached over and claimed the remote control from the bedside table, pointed it towards the television and clicked it. Another button and the DVD started. Head resting in the upturned collar, he reached down, parted the coat slightly, and slipped the length of sable over his semi erect penis. The cold touch of the fur on the head and then the shaft sent a wave of pleasure through his body.

Moans filled the room as the screen revealed a fur-clad female rubbing her breasts into the fox mittened hands of the male she was riding. Steve started moving the sable sheath up and down his now hard penis, squeezing his shaft firmly then loosely with every stroke. He wiggled his ass into the sable lining of the coat, his free hand stroking his furred chest and belly. The lady was now on her back, the male was still furring those breasts like there was no tomorrow whilst the camera pulled back to show his cock was ramming into her, a fact emphasised by her moans and the way her breasts moved under the man's hands. Steve's hips started rising, driving his cock into the sheath as his hand slide down to the base.

The sable was invading his ass crack as it fell into the fur on each downstroke. His eyes closed, hands working the fur into his cock and belly, he parted his thighs and then closed them, trapping the coat between them. His heels dug into the golden island fox bedspread. The lady was now sucking the man's cock whilst his hands still mauled her breasts. The sable teased his slit, the pre-cum wetting the fur. A finger pressed fur into the slit. The man pulled out and shot his semen onto the lady's breasts. Steve was breathing harshly, the sable was teasing his whole body save for his feet, the feel of the fur in his hand stroking his cock, the fur on his cock, against his back, sides and belly.

On the screen, a lady was rubbing her pussy with a red fox stole. He groaned, shuddered, came into the sheath furiously, hips jerking uncontrollably. Continuing to stroke his cock, watching the screen, he maintained a steady pace with the lady. She was now inserting the tip of the stole into her pussy, rubbing it up and down so that her clitoris was jutting out, delighting in the furring. The end of the stole was shining with her fluids, just as he imagined the sable was with his semen. He could feel it adding to the sensations within the sheath. The lady threw her thighs wide, from nowhere appeared a dildo a good twelve inches long and three in width. She rammed it into her pussy, thrusting her hips up to meet it. The stole had vanished. Steve stopped stroking his cock, released it. The DVD continued to play until he pressed the button on the remote. He dropped the remote, and proceeded to stroke the fur dreamily, his eyes half shut, his mind drifting to other places, other events.

Katarina knocked on Steve's door and waited. He eventually arrived, hair still wet from the shower.

"Be with you in a minute, mum. Just need to finish toweling off." He offered her a seat, which she accepted. True to his word, he returned within the minute still wearing the white satin robe. "Going out again?"

"Not unless you intend accompanying me." She shifted in the chair, adjusting her dress as if something was on her mind. "Steven, how well do you know the redhead?" Being called Steven by his mother signaled that he was in for an interrogation, and nothing he could do or say was going to avert it.

"Well, I have known Janet for eight years. She is David's sister."

"The clumsy one?"

"Yes, Clumper. In a sort of way, when dad passed away, she was someone that I could talk to about what I was feeling." His mother looked at him, curiously. "No offence mum, but we weren't exactly the closest back then. She provided me with a sympathetic ear and shoulder."

"So, she is, was just a good friend, the older sister, so to speak."

"Back then, yes."

"And now?"

"Now. Well, it is more than friendship. Hell, let's be blunt. It is sexual attraction aided and abetted by fur." He went to the bar fridge and took out a bottle of Johnny Walker Black Label, and ice. After pouring one that he offered to Katarina, he poured another for himself, added three ice cubes, and sat down opposite her. Both sipped lightly from their tumblers, waiting for the other to continue. It was Katarina.

"How long has she been into fur?"

"As far as I am aware, just twenty four hours, at least, the sexual side of fur. She has commented that she liked her mother's silver fox coat but restricted the times she asked for it." Another sip of scotch, jiggling the tumbler after to help melt the ice, and then, "That was the coat we christened last night. Speaking of coats," he checked his watch, "I am expecting a delivery in about ten minutes. Janet is also due then. Do you want to stay?"

"I'll think about it. Janet's father... what does he do?"

"Owns the local Ford dealership in Albany."

"Ah." She sipped her scotch, and then rested the tumbler on her knee, gazing at it. "I suppose it could be worse."

"Worse? What do you think I am going to do, marry her? I am not even sure if I love her. I love having sex with her, but that is not love." He looked at her, still gazing at the tumbler, now swirling the scotch around it. She nodded.

"You aren't foolhardy as some. You are taking precautions?" His blush answered her question, for his silence made her raise her head and look at him. "Oh Stefie, do be careful. Having a wife and children at your young age, and studying as well, this is not clear thoughtfulness. That is errant behaviour." The begging look on her face and in her voice touched him. He rose and went to her side, resting his hand lightly on her shoulder. Her head turned to gaze deeply into his eyes as only a mother can do. His nod satisfied her plea, as did the firmness of his grip as he nodded.

Before either could say anything, someone knocked on the door. Steve opened the door, and invited Janet in. He introduced her to his mother and asked if she wanted a scotch. He refrained from laughing as she shuddered and shook her head. Janet sat on the sofa, the coffee table between her and Katarina whilst Steve sat, perhaps symbolically, at the head of the table. Conversation then concerned the weather and anything else that did not actually involve fur, Katarina steering the conversation away from that topic twice before the door received another rap.

It was Sarah and a porter who would earn his tip tonight. He was carrying nine boxes, whilst Sarah had two bags in her possession. The boxes were placed on the coffee table, the porter paid, Sarah offered a scotch which she accepted with great alacrity and then she sat beside Janet on the sofa, introductions to Katarina already done.

"Well, I think I will go and call Harvey and see if he can get away for tomorrow night." Katarina rose, finished her scotch, and placed the tumbler precariously on the arm of her chair.

"You sure you don't want to see what's in the boxes?" Steve was beside her. She stroked his cheek and smiled.

"I know what is in them, dear. I shall see them later, of that I have no doubt." She kissed him on the cheek, bade farewell to the others, and walked slowly to the door. "I hope you get to bed early tonight, young man." She whispered as she again kissed his cheek. Steve smiled.

"I think I shall, because I am not as young as I was." He kissed her and squeezed her shoulder tenderly. "Say hello to Harvey for me." She nodded as she departed, a smile hovering about her lips. Closing the door, he turned and looked at the others. "So, which box do we open first?"

"Stefie... Stefie..." someone was calling his name, rocking him... "Stefie!" he opened his eyes and Katarina.

"What time is it? I must have dozed off."

"9.45. I dare say you did, judging by your um... state of dress." He remembered his previous activity. Fortunately, the coat was covering his sable covered penis. Thinking of it caused it to flex in its semi erect state. He carefully rolled onto his back, and then sat up, drawing his legs up, and adding to the torment of his penis. "I hope I didn't interrupt a good dream."

"Not that I can recall." He adjusted his position so that his penis was not so intensely furred.

"Well, judging by your reaction, maybe I will come back a bit later, or would you rather we have our little chat in the lounge?" She noticed the furs on the table and walked over to them. "These are new, aren't they?" He took his opportunity and quickly rose from the bed, drawing the coat around him whilst slipping the sheath from his cock and into a pocket. As soon as the sheath started to move, he regretted trying to be surreptitious. The semen had dried, sticking hairs to his cockhead and slit. The stinging as they parted caused him to grunt. If Katarina heard it, she did not acknowledge it. He joined her at the table.

"Yes, they are, from Russia and Sweden. I can't believe it took this long to take them out." Katarina was stroking the stole.

"Your design, no doubt." She giggled girlishly. "Your taste in fur is decidedly extravagant. The right girl, however, will be truly cared for in more ways than one."  Steve picked up the stole and draped it over her shoulders. "Mmmm... just the thing for a chilly night indoors." She looked at the partially opened window beside the bookcase. "Especially when it is a deliberate action on someone's part." She walked down the corridor to the floor to ceiling mirror and examined the effect of the stole. A slow turn and she continued out the door. "Join me in the lounge room in five minutes. That should give you a chance to clean up." She was giggling again as she said the last.

Steve opened the coat and checked his penis. A couple of sable hairs remained, which he removed, wincing. He went to the cedar chest beside the left-hand bedside table, opened it, removed a pair of fur-lined boxer shorts, and put them on.

Katarina was sitting in her favourite armchair, a cup of coffee on the side table. She was in her bed gown, a pale green satin affair, and the stole wrapped around her shoulders and hanging down her front. As a concession to Steve, a window was ajar so that the night's chill air circulated the room. He sat down opposite her, on the chaise lounge.

"So, what's on your mind?"

"You can be very perceptive at times, Stefie." Absently, she stroked the sable. "A day or two ago, I received a letter which I think you might like to read. It is from Krystelle Claire." Steve suddenly became very attentive. Katarina picked up an envelope from the side table and passed it to him.

"She wants money?"

"I wish it were that simple. You will understand what I mean when you read it." As she spoke, the envelope opened then the letter. He read it in silence. When he had finished, he stared at Katarina.

"You weren't kidding about wishing it were that simple. Is the girl crazy?"

"I have no idea. I do not know whether I should treat it as a joke, or give it some credence. She has no real axe to grind with Tom Morgan as far as I am aware."

"But still, to say that he was responsible for dad and her father's deaths. That is stretching it a bit too far. He benefited without any doubt, but so did we under the terms of both wills and the partnership agreement."

"One of life's more ironic win-win scenarios." Her eyes pleaded with him momentarily and then diverted to the ceiling, her hands stroking the sable, more for comfort than anything else. "You have been through your father's papers, correct?" He nodded. "And not found anything untoward?" A shake of his head. "So, I have no idea what she is talking about."

"She says that she does have some proof, but it needs to be corroborated." He rose and went to the bar, poured himself a Johnny Walker Blue Label, dropped in three ice cubes and returned to the chaise lounge. "To be honest, when you mentioned her name, I hoped that she had asked to stay here for a few nights." Katarina's eyes held his.

"Thinking about converting her, eh?" Both laughed, remembering her reaction to Katarina's sable coat the last time they had meet, coincidentally at Tom Morgan's office in New York when the terms of both the wills and partnership agreement were finalised. This had happened a week after Steve had turned twenty-two.

"Anyway, the thought that Tom would arrange for their deaths or mur... nah deaths at that stage of the firm's history. He knew what the conditions were in the partnership agreement, and if memory serves me correctly, the wills were so similar as to be scary. She must have been out in the Florida sun for too long before sending this to us." He put the letter back in the envelope and tossed it towards the fireplace, dismissively. "Their deaths cost Tom more than he would ever admit." For the next few minutes, the only constant sound was that of the wind through the window mixed with the rattle of the ice cubes as Steve drained the tumbler. "Do you remember the fun we, rather I had on my eighteenth birthday?"

"Now what brought that question?"

"I've been remembering it. What do you remember about it?"

"The extra luggage you brought home." She laughed lightly. "And the shows that we didn't get to see." Her thoughts drifted back to then. "As I recall, you lost your furginity during that time with... hmm ... what was her name?"

"Janet. Janet McBride."

"Oh yes. Clumper's sister."

"Now that's a nickname I haven't heard for quite a while. He is also a friend that I haven't seen since my return. Do you have any idea?"

"No dear, I have no idea where he is." She stifled a yawn. "This is the sort of stole I expected you to get at Sarah's." She turned the stole up against her cheeks. "Lovely and soft. I somehow get the feeling that the pelts in this stole are better than my two sable coats. Now THAT would tick poor Andre off, to know that he hadn't given me the best sables available." Steve laughed as he saw the wrinkled face of Andre.

"That's true. Then again, your sables are how old?"

"Not THAT old. Just well loved." She thought for a minute, then added, "But never stained." Steve winced at the remark. "Oh yes, Stefie, I remember the fun and games with a certain silver fox coat. You can thank your lucky stars that Andre has good contacts within the fur trade." Steve agreed.

Mrs. McBride's pride and joy had not been as easy to clean as either Steve had or Andre had initially thought. Not only were there semen stains, but the pelts themselves in the affected areas had split, due to the unexpected friction. This Steve had learnt at 8.00 at night when Andre had called him. Fortunately, as he was relaying this to an anxious Janet, Sarah had interrupted and said that she might be able to help them since she had a few old silver fox coats in store that might be useful. Andre had agreed that it was worth looking at, since although the coat looked fine, it was only a matter of time before the tears became obvious. Steve's grin wetted Katarina's curiosity.

"What's so funny?"

"Was just recalling the phone call I got from Andre, and how Sarah had come to our rescue. Is she still in business?"

"I have no idea, dear." This time the yawn proved unstoppable. "And I think you should go to bed too."

"You're probably right." Steve also failed to stop his yawning. "I might go to New York in a couple of days and check out Sarah's." Rising, he went to the bar and put the tumbler in the small sink, before returning to an also standing Katarina and kissing her on the cheek. "Night Trina, pleasant dreams." She reciprocated in both forms. They started to their bedrooms.

"By the way, did you bring back the silver fox stole?"

"Yes, Stefan, I did." She continued towards her bedroom. "Just forgot the mink stole."

"Glad I know where you are going with my sable then. You might lose it during the night."