Salamander MILF

This erotic story features anthropomorphic (furry) characters, intelligent humanoid beings with both animal and human characteristics.

"Salamander MILF"

SHORT STORY

Author's note: sequel to 'Salamander Slut'.

A comfortable feeling of familiarity washed over Chris as he waited outside the Amphibian Research Centre (ARC). It'd been one year since he last graced it with his presence. Part of him yearned to return, to see her again.

Not just her, as he stood thinking...her children...

His. Mine.

He closed his eyes. The pitter-patter of feet nearby alerted him to another presence. He refused to spoil it, keeping his eyes shut until he heard...her...

"Hi...daddy," a breathy voice moaned from behind. He turned, coming face-to-face with a welcome alien visage.

"Trace—oh my God!" Chris drooled over her voluptuous curves, filled out from motherhood. The anthro salamander's supple body was tightly wrapped in a one-piece swimsuit-cum-wetsuit hybrid, preserving her skin's necessary moisture. From the neck down she was clad in black, with lighter seams accentuating her chest, hips and butt. Her webbed feet were exposed as the material ended just shy of her ankles, and an oily trail of wet prints led from the door of the facility to where she stood.

She knew his eyes loved to wander, so she let him take it all in. Every gorgeous inch of her.

"So," she said, "it's officially our reunion!" A short laugh followed as she touched his chest. A warm damp spot developed on his t-shirt at the point of contact. Chris took her hand, feeling the slickness that coated her digits. Her suit was similarly wet. She must've been for a swim.

"It is indeed. I kinda missed you Trace."

She gave him a peck on the cheek, her jaws nipping the faint pudginess. "You have no idea..."

* * *

Trace led her long-distance lover into the ARC. Past the front desk, and friendly greetings from the receptionist, they entered the elevator. One floor up, it dinged and the steel doors emblazoned with the logo of the centre drew back, revealing a long corridor with waterproofed floors. They walked, holding hands. Chris looked at some of the rooms they passed. Nondescript doors, and few signs, meant he would be hopelessly lost without his sexy salamander acting as his guide. He tried to recall the layout when he last visited, but things seemed different.

"You've moved," he realised, thinking aloud.

Trace glanced at him, tongue flicking in the corner of her mouth. "Yep, all thanks to you...and your daddy goo."

"Please don't call it that."

"Why? Not mature enough for you?" Trace breathed, letting Chris see her large breasts heave, trapped by her suit. He stammered a reply. Nothing intelligible. She laughed. "A whole year," she sighed.

"A whole year," Chris repeated. He slowed his pace. "Such a huge gap between us."

"Mmm-hmm," Trace nodded and came to a stop in the middle of the corridor. She faced him and looked him deeply in the eye. "I really missed you. More than anything. I missed your touch, your scent," she hissed as her nostrils flared, "but most of all: your dick!" With that, she grabbed his crotch, causing him to yelp. One solid minute of uncontrollable laughter later, she looked at Chris' bright red face. "Oh c'mon! That was funny."

"At least no-one's around to see it."

"Like anyone cares, Chris. You don't live here, I do. I got a better handle on life at the centre."

"You do, and it looks like you haven't lost your charm." He winked, forgiving her oh-so-forward physicality. He reached down and felt his pants, and his face went pale. On the front of his trousers was a wet hand-print, clearly visible on his crotch. Maybe he was too quick to let her off the hook?

Trace saw what was causing him concern, and punched his shoulder. "Ease up, baby, like you said — there's no-one around!"

They continued walking. Trace took a left turn, leading him somewhere new. Chris was eager to see where she'd moved, as one of the reasons she had for breeding with him was a chance at swankier digs. There's still that little bit of Trey left in him...uh...I mean her, he thought, that carefree selfishness.

Since leaving her a year ago, Chris was preparing for his first semester in college, having passed his exams well enough to get what course he wanted. Part of him wondered what Trace would've done if she hadn't become who she was now. His girlfriend wasn't the most academically-inclined person, a fact that'd weighed heavily on her decision to undergo her transformation. The ARC must be paying real good for her to be so happy about life.

"Trace," he began. Waiting for her to turn her head before continuing, he spoke tentatively: "how have you been? Is this place still everything you wanted it to be?"

"Aww, you're thinking about my well-being. That's such a Chris move!" she joked, letting her old self have some fun bantering. "Don't worry, things have only gotten better since you left me with a full belly."

"Oh?"

"Yep. My spawn was one of the highest successful reproductive counts in the Salamandridae population. Frogs and toads have big families here at the ARC, but our kin are less on the large side. Lucky me."

Lucky you. "And how have to taken to being a mom?" he asked.

"It's great. Lotta work, but I'm built to handle it." As if emphasising her point, Trace put her hands on her hips and spread her stance, flexing muscle and sinew to exacerbate her 'motherly' shape. "Hot single mom," she purred, smiling at Chris, "ain't nothin' stopping this body."

"Single...?"

"Well...for all intents and purposes...y'know what I mean."

"Yeah, sorry. That actually hurt a little."

Her eyes widened. "Really? I'm sorry babe, I didn't mean for it to come out like that."

"No, it's fine. It's just that...up until now, coming back here, I never thought of myself as a parent. But I am! It's bizarre!"

"Sounds like someone is starting to like the idea of being a dad. Congrats!" She slapped his back. "That bug bit me a long time ago."

"I could be." Chris paused, scratching his chin. "I look forward to meeting our kids."

"Oh you'll love 'em. I just know it!" Trace led him to her new front door. She searched a pouch on the suit, situated on her broad butt, and produced a key-card. She slotted it into the receptacle, and a small green light turned on. "Come on in," she said to Chris, opening the door.

Inside, he slowly realised the scale of where he was. The apartment wasn't an apartment — no, it was a god-damn penthouse! Two storeys, linked by a spiral staircase. Lounge area with a big pool. One wall was an enormous window, peering out over the forested environment, a carbon-copy of a tropical mangrove and accompanied by vast bodies of water. He spotted a few denizens of the ARC frolicking in the waters, far away. Returning to the indoor portion of his amazement, Chris went into the kitchen, following Trace as she strolled confidently, her ass cheeks squelching as they rubbed together in the damp confines of her suit. Her tail swayed with each step.

"Wow," was all he could bring himself to say.

"Yep! Being a mommy really paid off big time."

"Seems excessive," said Chris, surveying her digs, still in awe of its size.

"Eh?"

Her looked at her and chuckled. "Getting accommodation this swanky for lying on your back."

Trace met his mirth and smiled, teeth peeking from behind her lips, hinting at jaw filled with razor-sharp daggers. "These pearly whites ain't just for show, y'know. Gotta behave if ya don't want 'em chomping down on anything delicate." She tapped her snout. "You're a guest in my home, after all."

Chris responded with a sarcastic smirk: "and here I thought you loved me for my dick!"

"I'm an employee here as well as eye candy. It's not all lounging by the pool and getting screwed by handsome human concubines, yeah?"

"Concubines? Plural?" Chris raised an eyebrow. "So there are others?"

"Not what I meant, dumbass," Trace huffed, tiring of his antics. She was about to leave him to his snark when she felt a hand grip her wrist. Turning around, her tail swinging through the air in a wide arc — narrowly missing the centrepiece of her dining table — she was brought face-to-face with her boyfriend. His gaze bored into her, like white-hot drill points. She felt swallowed by his presence. Seconds passed, and she stayed close, and quiet.

Chris leaned in...

A kiss. A delicate kiss planted on her hybrid lips, left her breathless. How long had it been since she last saw him? Too long, that's a fact. He danced and dived his tongue inside her mouth, roiling with the tumult of flesh and fiery passion. She broke their seal, catching a moment's breath as slivers of saliva dripped from their newly-separated lips.

"I missed this," he said.

Trace held her lover close. Sensing his shape, the outlines of his figure as his clothes dampened from her touch. Soon he was soaked, thanks to her moist skin and early-morning swim routine.

He mumbled, pressed against her shoulder: "I missed this..."

She laughed. "Talk about a broken record babe! C'mon, I was minding a couple of our little terrors when you called. Wanna say hi?"

Chris gulped. This would be his first time outside of photographs and short video clips he'd seen of their children . His stomach tensed. What would it be like, to greet them in-person at last? Oh God, he fretted, what kind of dad will I be to them?

As if reading his mind, his fears were allayed by Trace's soft touch. She caressed his palm, watching him twitch and flinch as her minute movements lovingly traversed his sensitive skin. In the heightened emotion of the moment, he was primed to feel every scratch, every stroke, every single contact between them. She made good use of this to toy with him. Webbed fingers cupped his shoulder blade, another wandering hand reached down to his ass, squeezing the plump human rump of her 'concubine'.

"Ready?" she asked, low enough to be mistaken for moaning.

Chris cleared his throat. "Sure."

She began to lead him by the hand. "The rest are in daycare," she said, "in case you were wondering."

"Oh. Yes, of course."

Into another room they went. Through a broad opening in the nearby wall and into a more utilitarian environment. Chris studied the room — noticing the clean, tiled, and rubber-floored nature of the place. He heard splashing. Water spat across the room, propelled by the commotion in the corner of his eye. When he finally looked in that direction, the room opened up. Now he understood the furnishing, or lack thereof — it was a pool. And a big one at that! "Whoa."

"Sally. Devon. Looks who's here!" Trace exclaimed in a high-pitched voice, all cutesy and coy. The adult salamander ran to the end of the pool where two of her children swam, and braced at the edge. Chris got a tiny window to see his progeny clearly before Trace unwound her legs and soared six feet into the air, catapulted by powerful muscles. A stray thought regarding her strength crossed his mind, and a somewhat-intimidated Chris watched and walked slowly; the form of his girlfriend, streamlined for aquatic adventure, breaking the water. As her dive split the miniature sea, the two juvenile salamanders swam quickly to either side. Trace shot into the waters, submerging in a flash. Chris saw her disappear in a cloud of foam. A face-full of water droplets careened toward him, adding to the weight of moisture he carried around with his attire. Suitably drenched, he moved closer, no longer concerned about the splash zone.

As he neared the edge, Trace resurfaced. The sight of her emerging from the pool, rising above the waterline, got to him. Her beauty, now in her natural environment, was unparalleled. Chris was at a loss for words as the anthro amphibian smiled, skimming her arms across the pool's surface in a gesture that summoned her spawn. Sally and Devon, both bearing their mother's colours, swam close to her and followed her gaze to Chris.

"I—"

"Say hi to daddy!"

Chris felt a warmth deep in his heart. It spread joy to every part of him; a primitive, ancient instinct: fatherhood. He looked at his kids. The two pudgy baby salamanders cuddled close to their mother, clinging to her swimsuit with tiny arms. They looked just like their pictures, he thought. I can't believe it...I just can't...

It was everything he could ever hope for.

Trace interrupted his pleasant day-dream by shunting herself to the side of the pool, using the shallow end to find her footing and lift the two babies up with her — one under each arm. Infantile gurgling came from both salamanders, watching their father intently with large, enrapturing eyes. Thoroughly wet now, she waited for the dripping to cease, taking the worst of the soaking away. She switched her arms' position, holding Devon and Sally more appropriately.

"Come on, babe, let's sit down and introduce you."

* * *

Chris and Trace returned to the main room and sat at the table. Cradling one child, and letting the other crawl and wander about, Trace played the part of a proud mother and kept tabs on her spawn with ease. She took Devon's short arm and made him do a little wave toward Chris, who responded with one of his own. "Hi son," he said, almost losing his voice as the words coalesced in his mind. He reached over and tickled Devon. The infant's happy nonsense noises were music — sweet music — to his newly-awakened parental instinct.

"Sally, come back to mommy," Trace called out, "don't go too far." True to her orders, the young female crawled her way back, nuzzling Trace's splayed foot, causing her mother to giggle. Trace flexed her webbed foot, spreading it wide and closing it together, as her daughter tried (without success) to grab one of her large toes. She continued to entertain her daughter like this for a while, and Sally was content to play that way. Devon, however, was another matter...

"He's hungry," she explained to Chris, who enjoyed seeing his unusual family acting like a real one. He realised he hadn't thought through the consequences of their first time. Sure, he went into it consenting...but breeding his former bully was another matter. The notion triggered something primal in him — the need to sow his seed, no matter the form it took. It was kinky. Sexy. Borderline taboo to impregnate a woman who used to be the terror of his schooldays...and male. There was no denying it — it was hot!

But now? The reality of the situation reached him. He chose to father children. He chose to take Trace, rehabilitated in his eyes by her life since school, and give her what she wanted — nay, wished for. New life. He felt small amid the hustle and bustle of the ARC when he returned, one more year under his belt. A year without Trace...

"C'mere baby, let mommy take care of that." Chris heard her talk, and returned his attention to the present day. "Do you need anything — a hand with anything, that is?" he asked, nerves eating him from the inside-out.

"Could you pick up Sally and keep her steady for a while?"

Chris nodded, kneeling down beside Trace and taking hold of his daughter. His daughter...

"Hey there," he said to the chubby angel, "Sally, it's me. Your daddy."

A belch and free-flying spittle came as a response, coating Chris in a thin film of ickiness. He laughed and lifted her up. His little girl felt oily, her skin secreting just like her mom. She was bare, barring a pair of swimming togs that covered her waist and thighs, and was puffy enough for him to assume it could also double as a diaper. Hope you haven't left daddy a stinky present, he worriedly mumbled to himself. I have zero experience changing amphibian underwear. So be warned!

He prayed he wouldn't have to ask Trace for assistance, embarrassed and possibly smelly.

Sitting down again, he let Sally nestle into the shape his arm formed with his side. The juvenile hybrid cooed, looking up at her dad with bright blue eyes.

Oh my God, he realised, she has my colour.

His heart melted. You could pour him into a cup the way his whole body went soft and squishy. Sally's presence brought delight to him that he never expected nor experienced before. So this is how it feels to be a dad.

"Trace, I—"

About to speak, he was stopped by the sight of his lover rolling her swimsuit's zipper down, and one of the straps over her shoulder, letting it slide down her arm. Grabbing her collar, she pulled, freeing the left half of her chest. A big, healthy boob popped out into the open — followed shortly thereafter by its twin as mommy got her pride and joy out for all to see.

Devon suckled hungrily as his mom sighed. "Good boy."

"Feels to weird having boobs," she tittered, "weird, 'cause you know you're supposed to be an amphibian...oh well, the staff here obviously have a reason. Don't know what it is. Betcha they tell people it's got to do with nutrient intake or improved child-rearing — y'know, real technobabble. Or maybe, just maybe, they like boobs."

Devon gurgled in agreement. "That's right sweetie," Trace whispered, "they must like boobies as much as you!" Their son returned to suckling, seeking out her exposed nipple and attaching himself without delay. He eagerly squeezed the swollen nub with tiny jaws, his lack of proper teeth a blessing for Trace. Nursing continued for a minute, until the baby salamander wriggling incessantly in Chris' arms became too much to ignore. Sally stretched her arms out, opening and closing her hands, signalling her desire to join her brother.

"C'mon," Chris said to his spawn, "let's get you feeding too." He handed her over to Trace, whose free breast was now occupied by the chubby creature. They remained at the table, Trace now providing for both children — their small bodies obscuring her cleavage, but not by much.

Between Chris and his lover, few words ended up being exchanged as the nursing progressed. Trace was happy to let the endorphins of motherhood take over, and half-shut her eyes, drowning in the weak bites of her kids as they sent small jolts of pleasure through her body. Chris sat back and enjoyed the view of her caring for their children. Her body also a point of intense interest for him. She'd been curvy before, now she was even more voluptuous. The swell of her enormous breasts descended perfectly from her collarbone downward. The round, smooth tear-drops a cosy cushion for their infant hangers-on. In the daylight her skin glimmered, slick with moisture, adding a sheen of good health to her radiant appearance. God, his mind muttered, I think I love her.

He was caught in the moment, enamoured with the tykes. His kids were adorable. No, really...he couldn't shed his paternal pride. They were his, and Trace was his. It was as if he'd matured more in one year than all prior. He felt lighter-than-air, and perhaps it was the mild euphoria of new information rushing his senses, overloading his current state of mind, but he swore he could sit here forever.

A small matter of fact (or lack thereof) forced him to ask: "h-how many are there?"

"Hmm?" Trace woke from her pleasant daze, and asked him to repeat his question. When he did, a tinge of regret crossed her features. "It's actually kinda sad. See, my new biology reproduces using eggs, yeah? But not all of them end up viable. I was sooooo upset when I found out that I wasn't going to have all my babies!"

"Oh crap, I'm sorry..."

"It's okay," she sniffed, "the researchers explained to me that those would never hatch. Weren't fertilised properly or some science-y shit. I didn't think about stuff like that when I made you come over. Still feels bad even knowing it was normal."