Valerie the Vixen

Valerie could not wait for today to be over. There was little worse than having to wake up early on a Saturday, but to have to entertain her dad's boring, loser work friends was just the shit cherry on top of the three tier shit cake this weekend was already geared up to be. With a groan, and a stretch that caused each of her vertebrae to click in succession, eliciting an almost rapturous groan from her body as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and made her way blearily to the shower.

She stripped off her loose fitting Grateful Dead t-shirt and pulled off her once white, now merely comfortable panties and stepped onto the cold false ceramic of the shower. The vixen twisted the knob and hopped back out of the way of the unyielding frigid spray to give it time to warm up. Tentatively she reached out with her hand paw to check the temperature, the hot water flowing over her rich, burnt orange red fur. Her paws were cuffed in little black socks, and her tail flexed and straightened in delight, the white dipped bulb on the end bristling.

Taking a deep breath, she plunged head first into the stream, her black nosed muzzle serving to divert the water down her face and onto her soft, warm body. Her pure white belly fur matted against her body as her slender fingers ran effortlessly across her body. Her young, lithe form glistened in the water's flow as she made sure she had soaked every inch of herself before reaching for the shampoo. She worked up a lather and smeared the sweet smelling foam all over herself, up her slender, supple legs, across her tight, yet soft belly. She took extra care to clean her round, pleasant ass and her perky breasts. She really did like her boobs, they were soft and bouncy, not too small, not cartoonishly ballooned. Just perfectly proportional to her petite frame. Standing at only about 5'4'', it would have been ludicrous had they been any bigger.

Rinsing the last of the suds out of her curly auburn hair, she turned off the shower and stepped out. She shook herself dry, before aggressively assaulting herself with a towel. Finally, she resorted to the hair dryer whose hot breath made her blush as she dried out the space between her legs. She stepped over to her mirror, combed out her hair as best she could, then took the time to make sure her tail was pristine and beautiful. She took great pride in her tail. She delicately applied some black eye liner, making her amethyst eyes glitter out more provocatively, and with a deft hand applied blush to her delicate sloping muzzle, just to accentuate the steadily darkening red fur.

She slipped on a purple bra and matching panties, with a tank top and black booty shorts. She looked herself up and down in the mirror, pleased with what she saw. She tied her hair up in a high ponytail, pulled on a pair of white socks that went up to just below her knees, and a pair of black trainers. Feigning happiness, she bounced downstairs to the kitchen.

In the kitchen, her parents were having breakfast. Her father was a fox, like herself, his ruddy brown coat of fur flecked with silver strands. His utilitarian glasses nestled loosely on his muzzle. He wore a loud, brightly coloured hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts, the shirt hanging open to reveal his not unfit, but certainly no longer lean torso. Daniel Wynn had seen too many years of beer and steak, and it had invariably taken its toll on the man.

Her mother, on the other hand, was the polar opposite. The feline woman was something of a health freak, there was barely a scrap of body fat anywhere on her body. She was only an inch or two taller than her daughter, and incredibly athletic. Where the younger vulpine girl was more voluptuous and demure, her mother was toned, hard and sharp, a figure cut from fine glass. For years her routine had been pilates every Monday, yoga on Tuesday, Boxercise Wednesday, spin class on Thursday, Tai Chi on Friday, and a two hour jog every other Saturday. The woman treated her body like a temple, and while her preening and almost obsessive focus often irritated Valerie. Jennifer Wynn showed the results of her obsession clearly and proudly, finding the most form fitting garments she could encase her body in, occasionally even stealing clothes from her daughter. Today, she had chosen to wear a short sundress that allowed her to show off her toned, slender legs. Her mottled white and orange fir was clipped short and the longer brown hair on top of her head was never allowed to fall past her shoulders.

Both of them sipped cups of tea, but Valerie was relieved to see a pot of coffee, still steaming on the counter. Tea was fine, but in the morning nothing jump started the blood flow like strong, black coffee. She contemplated pouring some whiskey into the steaming black life giver, but decided against it. There was just no way she could get away with it this early in the morning. She'd probably need it later on, depending on how long this snoozefest was supposed to last. Instead she just dropped an english muffin in the toaster, ran a thin scrape of butter over the cratered surface and spooned a sizable dollop of jam onto it.. Her mother scowled slightly at the combination of carbs, saturated fats and sugar, before turning her attention back down to the screen of her phone.

Valerie could hazard a guess what her mother was doing. Her feline tail swished happily behind her while her face remained stoic, almost entirely expressionless. Valerie had known her mother was seeing other guys for a few months now, ever since she saw the pictures she had been sending when she accidentally left herself logged in to facebook on the family PC. It didn't bother her though, her dad either didn't know or didn't care. Besides, it wasn't any of her business anyway. The arrangement seemed to suit her parents. Her dad got the out of his league trophy, and her mother got to live as a kept woman with a husband who wouldn't dare cross her.

In all honesty, she was pretty impressed with their setup. When she got a bit older, she could easily see herself taking a leaf out of her mother's book. She would marry for money and then take her passion somewhere else. So long as no one got hurt, what did it matter?

"Morning honey" her father said ultimately. "Looking forward to today?"

"Not particularly" she intoned, not even bothering to look up at him. From the corner of her eye, she could make out the almost sheepish look of disappointment that crossed his face. Valerie didn't dislike her dad, not really, but her was often just kind of pathetic sometimes. He let her and her mother walk all over him and while she could undoubtedly benefit from this, she sometimes wished her dad would grow a spine one of these days.

"Now now dear," her mother said, not looking up from her phone. "This is important for your father, so let's be on our best behaviour. Your dad has a lot riding on this all going smoothly, so let's all do our best, OK?"

The fact that her mother clearly had little emotion behind her words let slip just how token a gesture of solidarity with her husband truly was. But then again, this was a business party. If this went well, there would be significantly more money for her father to earn, and by default more for her mother to spend. With a groan and a roll of her eyes, Valerie finished her cup of coffee and slipped her plate into the dishwasher.

The good news was that there was spectacularly little to do to prepare for their guests today. Valerie's mother was notoriously houseproud, never anything out of place for very long. By half past ten, the whole place was pristine. The first people were supposed to arrive around noon, but her dad did say that a few might turn up early. WIth all the force and conviction of a marine, he donned his apron, took up his spatula and fork, and set off to heat the grill. A little bit before twelve, the doorbell rang.

Valerie slouched her way over to the porch and opened the door. A sweet looking older couple, both golden retrievers, were standing there smiling. They presented a bottle of wine and box of chocolates and announced themselves. Valerie welcomed them, took their jackets and led them into the back garden. They made some banal compliment to the house before making their way over to Daniel with a loud, animated greeting. For the next hour, more and more people turned up, all handed Valerie their coats, palmed off a bottle of wine to Jennifer and migrated out into the garden. They seemed jovial enough, and the smell of the barbecue was beginning to permeate through everything in a way that was simply mouthwatering.

Outside, the men had largely chosen to congregate around the grill, brown beer bottles sweating in their hands as they desperately tried and hopelessly failed to keep the topic of conversation away from work. The women, on the other hand, had congregated around the pool where Jennifer was dipping her toes in the cool water and playing the ever charming hostess.

Suddenly the doorbell rang again. With a groan Valerie got up and trudged over. She barely managed to hide her frustrated eye roll before the door swung open. She felt the shadow being cast before she saw the source of it. Her pulse quickened as she began to track the colossal form before her.

The first thing she took note of was the size of his shoes. Without too much exaggeration, she thought she would probably be able fit her arm all the was to the shoulder. Two sturdy tree trunk legs, each about as wide as Valerie's torso led up to a monstrous, muscular abdomen, barely contained within the fabric of the cotton white shirt he wore. The short sleeves showed off the oceans of muscle that undulated attractively under his brown furred skin. Finally, her gaze drew up to the long, burly face of the draft horse standing in the doorway, his mane a luxurious black reaching down his back.

In a voice as deep as thunder and as smooth and sweet as caramel he spoke. "Hi there," he smirked at the small vixen in front of him slightly. "Sorry we're late."

Valerie could barely feel her legs as she stumbled back out of the way as the behemoth of a horse bent his head and stepped inside. Valerie was sure she was drooling but couldn't really bing herself to stop. The horse must have been nearly seven feet tall easily as Valerie found herself craning her neck to see his face, though the gently swishing pendulum she could see just below the surface of his trousers kept her eyes totally mesmerised.

Behind the horse another man entered. He was not quite as tall, not quite so broad, but his matte black fur and aggressively pointed ears made a little whimper escape her lips. The doberman was still huge, just below six and a half feet tall, and a more athletic build than the draft horse, who seemed to be more a pure mass of muscle and flesh. There was a harshness in his smile as he flicked a cigarette butt back out the front door. The two men stood towering over Valerie and she began to feel a little dizzy, the two of them boxing her in almost oppressively, but certainly not unpleasantly.

"My name's Georgio" the thunderous voice of the horse intoned. "And that's Duke" he nodded to his canine companion. "I have to say, I never expected Dan's wife would be such a pretty little thing."

Valerie could only blush a brilliant red and was grateful that her vulpine fur would disguise the worst of it. The smell of their musky bodies almost overpowered by the cologne they were wearing made her mouth dry and her pussy soaking wet. She wanted nothing more than to be manhandled by these two titans until they were satisfied.

"Why thank you," a feminine voice chirped up from behind Valerie. The young vixen nearly leapt out of her skin as her mother slowly made her way over to the trio.

"But this fetching little darling is our daughter, Valerie. I'm Jennifer Wynn, it is a genuine pleasure to meet you both." The cat let out a little purr on the 'pleasure' that Valerie was entirely certain was intentional.

Valerie watched her mothers tail flick in pleasure as her feline eyes narrowed on the two men. The doberman stepped forward, kissed her cheek and then allowed her to lead him into the garden. Valerie was certain she saw Duke's hand slide across her mothers ass as they walked and she knew she did not see Jennifer complain or resist. Georgio remained with her and offered her a strangely friendly smile.

"You know, cutie" he rumbled, the bass of his voice vibrating through every molecule of Valerie's body. "I'm absolutely parched. Mind getting me a beer?"

Valerie swallowed hard and managed to squeak out something she hoped sounded like 'of course'. She lightly padded over to the kitchen, opened the door of the fridge and bent in to grab a bottle from the bottom of the fridge. Behind her, she could feel the steady thump of the draft horse pulling closer to her. His scent engulfed her senses as she heard him grunt in pleasure. She could feel his eyes devouring her little frame. She caught her breath and decided to take a risk, wiggling her ass at him slightly.

The horse let out an uncharacteristically predatory growl as she felt his hand cup her tight, firm buttocks. Now that she could feel his hot grip against her body, she could better appreciate the size difference between them. Georgio only had one hand on her body, and yet it easily encompassed both cheeks, his sizable finger grating between her legs. Valerie felt her legs begin to buckle as the horse's strong finger traced along her dripping entrance. She leaned back against him, exhaling a barely audible moan as his other titanic hand reached around and fondled her breasts. Perhaps today was not going to be as shit as she had previously thought. His thick, strong fingers massaged and carressed her breasts as she parted her knees and pressed herself a little closer against the torso of the horse, the feeling of him manhandling her was totally intoxicating.

Against her leg she could feel the solid trunk of his leg pressed against her. Everything about him was hard, solid, like he had been carved out of pure mahogany. The undulating washboard of his abs resisted her delicately, and there was a constant pulsating warmth that seemed to radiate from him.

Suddenly she felt something twitch by her thigh and she realised she had been mistaken. THat had not been his leg she had been feeling earlier. Sliding and bouncing against her thigh, straining against the fabric of his trousers was Georgio's massive horse cock. Valerie felt her face flush bright red under her fur. She couldn't reach the end of it with her fingers. Georgio excitedly felt her explorative paws begin to wander and decided to up the ante. WIth surprising deftness, the horse hooked his middle finger under the gusset of her shorts, pushed her panties to the side, and slid his thick fingers into her up to the second joint. She tilted her head back and groaned in ecstasy, only for Georgio to stoop down into a kiss.

His tongue invaded her mouth with military power and precision, her body offering absolutely no resistance as the brawny stallion locked his lips to hers. Even his tongue was huge, a sliding thick lab of wet, delicious meat that danced like a snake in her mouth. Her own tongue rushed to meet him, colliding and sliding over one another, the taste of his saliva sending her into a heady daze.

Which is when he chose to move his finger again.

Georgio slid his digit out of her body slightly before pushing right back in. Instead of moving in and out of her like a piston the way most of the boys Valerie had allowed between her legs would, Georgio curled his finger in a come hither motion. His firm, calloused finger stroked her insides, grating against her soft, wet flesh. She moaned into Georgios mouth as he increased his pace inside her. He never kept the same rhythm for too long, making sure to keep her feeling fresh new sensations. He changed up his pace, his rhythm, the pattern of where his finger struck. Me moved from beckoning inside her to swirling and churning her body up, all the while his lipase and tongue held her head in place.

At some point the hand that had been kneading her breasts had slipped under her shirt and was now pressing into her bare flesh and fur. In a coordinated assault on her body, Georgio rolled her perky nipple while simultaneously flicking his finger over her clitoris. Valerie bowed her legs, her left foot bouncing involuntarily and uncontrollably as lightning pulsed through her muscles. She moaned, only muted by the stallion's mouth. She tapered into a high pitched squeal directly into Georgio. Her back arched as she automatically began to pump her hips, grinding herself inescapably against his solid form, her body operating on autopilot, desperate not to let the sensation end.

As her body shivered in orgasm against the monster of a man behind her, the adrenaline began to fade. The dark purple and pink haze the world had taken on began to lift as Georgio extracted himself from her mouth. Valerie had not realised just how long she had been holding her breath, but the swift, sharp gasp of cold air followed by the rush of lightheadedness made her realise she must have been seconds away from passing out. A single strand of saliva hung dumbly from her lip and dripped onto her shirt. She gazed blearily up into Georgio's deep, gentle, brown eyes. He withdrew his hand from her body, glittering with the fluids he had just pulled from her body.

With a smile, he presented his glistening finger to Valerie. Without a moment's thought, the vixen clamped her lips around it, the familiar sour, semi-bitter taste of her own arousal mixed with the sharp tang of sweat from his finger tips. She shamelessly slurped voraciously on his digit pulling deep into her throat, up to the knuckle. Georgio grunted in approval as he slid down her throat with nothing even resembling a gag reflex. With a smack of her lips and a satisfied gasp, Valrie pulled the finger out of her mouth.

"So," Valerie asked, her breath gradually becoming less ragged, her senses returning to normality. "Still want that beer?"

Georgio chuckled slightly, and nodded allowing the girl to fetch the beverage accosted this time. He yanked the top of the bottle off with his teeth, chugged the entire bottle and gently placed the empty vessel on the counter top with a sigh.

"Right then," his earthquake voice rumbled through Valerie. "Why don't you take me somewhere a bit more comfortable and we can pick up where we left off. You got yours after all," He leaned and breathed hot in her ear. "Isn't it only fair that you help me get mine too?"

Valerie swallowed hard and then nodded, a smile spreading across her face. She skipped on ahead of him, leading him through a side door into the study. Valerie's parents kept a rather impressive study. There was a small couch and wingback chair, floor to ceiling bookshelves filled with all manner of volumes. It was their multi purpose room, the couch pulled out into a sofa bed, and there was enough floor space for Jennifer to do whatever aerobics or yoga she could possibly want. There was a window out into the back garden, but the curtain was almost permanently closed.

Georgio delicately patted Valerie's head as he looked down at the shivering, nervous vixen.

"Do you want this?"

The question came out of nowhere. There was no expectation in it, no demand, no coercion, no force. There it was again, the same certain gentle calmness, a kindness in his manner that seemed to put Valerie at ease. This wasn't foreplay, this wasn't an attempt at seduction. Georgio was genuinely gauging if Valerie was willing to go through with this. With a slow but confident nod, Valerie gave her consent.

Georgio unbuttoned his rich, black trousers letting them fall to the floor. Valerie instinctively dropped to her knees and loosened the laces on his Armani shoes. She deftly removed them and pulled off his socks and trousers carefully, leaving them balled up by the couch. Georgio slowly unbuttoned his shirt, letting it drop behind him.