by Tempe O'Kun
Snow piled up outside. Steam radiators gurgled and gargled. The fireplace crackled and flickered. The drinks vanished, leaving a warm glow of camaraderie. Their appetites made a small dent in the feast on the table.
“What were the old dinners like?” Kylie nibbled asparagus one stalk at a time, happy the informal setting allowed her to just pick them up with her fingers. For a plant, they were oddly fish-like in crunch, if cooked right. “Before you left to make it big?”
“Magnificent.” Her mother raised her fork in salute to absent company. “The whole place was packed with laughter and stories. Some of them were even true.” A spark of nostalgia entered her voice as she watched the ghosts of holidays past. “Every otter with even the faintest connection to the Bevy line could show up and most of them did.”
Max contemplated the nutmeg floating on his second eggnog. His brow furrowed in a way that Kylie had learned spoke of a thought percolating. “Laura, you sold some stuff inside Bourn Manor…” He shifted his gaze to her mom, using his extra-polite voice. “…but the real money was always in the house and land.”
“Mmhm.” Laura swirled hers around, as if pondering how much more rum she could fit.
“You never considered selling it?” The dog cleared his throat. “Not that I don’t appreciate it.”
“Never when I had work, and never earlier than one in the morning.” The plump otter looked out the window with a wry grin, watching the snowfall and lack of headlights in the driveway.
“Why?” The question hung in the tinseled air for an uncomfortable length of time.
Sitting back in the easy chair, she shook her head. “It was always my emergency fallback. A few times, I was a month’s rent away from slinking back here. I never had to, but having that option made me confident.”
Nodding, the husky’s voice remained soft, though it gained a hint of the playful banter they used when he and Laura brainstormed. “You could’ve rented it out.”
Peering down through her glasses, she chased a stray clump of sweet potato around her plate with a fork. “It never felt right, someone else living here. We TV producers are well known for our mawkish sentimentality.”
He coughed a laugh through his drink.
The older otter looked up with amusement. “It’s true, though. I have good memories of this house. I want more of those.” She smiled at her daughter. “I want to fix the place. Make new memories.”
“Mom, you old sap.” She flashed a smirk to her mother.
Laura stretched and oozed off the sofa. “Ugh! All this revelry has tired me out. And this eggnog has clearly written me into a holiday special.” She waddled over and hugged both of them. “I’m going to bed.”
Kylie watched her mother head up the stairs, then listened as her footsteps receded into the master bedroom. The dog beside her watched the fire crackle and the snow fall in patient peace. Curled up with Max, minutes passed a breath at a time, as the creak of the floorboards moved to the bathroom and eventually back to the bed.
Time to set her scheme into motion. She wriggled to her feet.
Max’s ears rose with her, lifting a question into the air with the softest whine.
“Stay there, Maxie.” She flowed out of the room with barely a backward glance. “I’m just getting another present for you.”
His tail thumped on the cushions as she scampered back to her room.
Max took in the picturesque scene before him: snowfall, a low fire, and more pine tree than the room was designed to accommodate. The room was dark, lit only by firelight and little white LEDs. It looked like a postcard. Sure, it wasn’t his family home, but it was rapidly becoming a home to him. He found himself smiling at the idea.
An excited chirr drew his attention toward the stairs. His otter girlfriend crossed the landing and stretched a paw up the doorframe, clad in a bathrobe. And only a bathrobe, if her bare thighs were to be believed. She watched him with a sensual chirr. “Hello, Maxie.”
He blinked, brain trying to catch up to her appearing “Hi.”
She padded into the living room, got some wrapping paper stuck to her foot, kicked it free with an offended chitter, and crawled into his lap. Her arms slipped over his shoulders to play with his scruff. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
His eyes darted down to her cleavage. “Yeah, me too.”
She leaned in and kissed him. Then, biting her lower lip, she lifted his paws to the ends of the robe belt.
Playing along, he double-checked that Laura hadn’t suddenly appeared downstairs, then pulled loose the bow. He’d assumed Kylie would be naked under the robe, but it fell away to reveal silky undergarments: diaphanous white with threads that sparkled like new-fallen snow. The garment hung like a curtain of mist, secured to her breasts by a single ribbon bow. A matched pair of panties glimmered from under it, again secured only by a shimmering ribbon atop her tail. His ears sprung up in surprise. The blush under his fur felt hotter, somehow, than if she’d just been nude.
Giggling scandalously, the otter bounced off his lap and did a little twirl in the firelight. She wiggled and babbled: “I thought the shiny satin was a bit much, but in the firelight it looks pretty good. The great thing about lingerie is it’ll last forever, since you only wear it for a few minutes before it comes off. Unless, ya know, it works so well your husky boyfriend uses his teeth. But don’t use your teeth, even though that would be kinda hot. Anyway, what’d ya think, Max?”
Standing, he took her by the paw and drew her into a slow kiss. He pulled her against him as they made out. His tongue slipped into her muzzle to trace those pointy lutrine teeth and her supple lips. Even as he leaned down over her, she edged him back to the sofa until he sat down with a muffled bounce of springs.
She squirmed with joy along his body. Her curvy form flowed between his knees as she ran her paw down his chest. “Now lemme unwrap my present…” Her grabby brown otter paws quickly shucked him of his shirt. Delicate claws scratched under his chin as her other palm pressed atop his crotch.
“Out in the living room?” His ears flattened shyly. “Won’t your mom hear?”
“She was snoring in bed by the time I came outta my room.” Kneeling between his legs, she nuzzled the crotch of his pants. “Some people can’t hold their egg nog.”
Even more pink reached his ears. “Kylie…”
“Shush…” Her eager fingers seized on his fly. “You unwrapped your present; now it’s my turn.” Her paws undid his fly and tugged his boxers out of the way. With an eager chitter, she leaned down and kissed deeply into his sheath. As he hardened on her tongue, she played with his balls, then pulled back to admire her work.
The canine panted, his dick in his girlfriend’s paws. With a grunt, a fresh bead of precum rolled down from his tip.
She lapped it up. With a hot breath, her round muzzle eased down his length. A full second of her looking up at him with satisfaction coaxed an unexpected pulse of precum onto her tongue. She sucked and slurped. Slowly, she explored every delightful sensation she could evoke in him. Through the pleasure, he noticed her hips bounce on her other paw. After several lovely minutes, reluctantly, she pulled off, working her tired jaw.
Smiling, he cupped her cheek ruff and admired how sexy she looked beside his wet erection.
She nuzzled into his touch, then pressed him to the soft fur of her other cheek. “I do really like your dick, Maxie.”
He whimpered at her words. “Yeah?”
“Mmmhmm.” Pumping with her paws, she stroked her finger webbing over his canine bulge. “Might be a size too big.”
A pulse of arousal hardened him further. Leaning in, he pressed his muzzle to her ear and growled: “Let’s make sure it fits.”
With a giggle, the otter oozed straight to the floor. One webbed paw pulled her panties aside, while the other spread her entrance. The naughty gleam in her eye shone brighter than anything else in the room.
The canine prowled down atop her and between her waiting thighs. Her soft o
utfit, almost as lovely under his paws as her newly-grown pelt, slipped under his touch. Already fully hard, he found her wet and eager. Her hips twisted and humped up his length.
That powerful tail propelled her up against him. Her toes caught on his waistband to pull his pants and boxers down fully. Knuckles to her mouth, she snickered at his gasp.
He shuffled the rest of the way out of his garments, then stalked atop her. His paws gripped her dainty shoulders as he worked his girth into her. He did everything possible to increase the frequency of those happy squeaks. The growl in his throat gave him pause with how predatory it sounded. A few strokes later, though, he was back up to full speed.
With no mattress to absorb the impact, his every thrust squeezed a squeak from her. Half-lit by colorful lights and the fireplace, her head rocked back and forth in pleasure.
The dog whined, banging his hips down onto hers. An exotic flourish of sensation, the silken panties brushed against one side of his length as he worked it in and out of her. With a sudden urgency, he bounced his knot against her sopping folds. A squelch, and he was inside. Breath caught in his throat. A twitch started in his balls and squirted up his length with a rush of ecstasy.
His lover squirmed with pleasure, her tail curling between their legs. Webbed paws traced his body, urging him on with eager grips at his fur. As his passion emptied into her with a spreading warmth, she chirred with unabashed delight.
Atop her, he slowly regained his breath. He slipped free the bow at the front of her lingerie, exposing her cleavage. He lapped at her nipples in turn, cupping her modest breasts.
She squirmed on his knot. “Mmmmmmm. Maxie, that feels nice…”
Still breathing hard, he reached down and massaged her clit against the swell of his buried cock. The faint squish of his cum seeped around his length, making her slick passage all the slicker. His fingertips worked in gentle circles, faster and faster, until she was a whimpering wiggle of happiness under him.
“Mmf! Yeah!” Her hips bounced up to his as much as the tie allowed. “Like that! Mmmmmf!” With a trembled surge of strength, she clutched to him, her passage gripping his sensitive cock.
Having been focused on his labors, Max yipped softly in surprise as his dick slipped free. A glance between them showed his pink length swaying, half sheathed and dripping. He sat up to see his climax seeping out of her, white as the snow falling outside the window. After a moment’s appreciation, he gathered their clothes and lifted her in his arms.
“Mmmmm.” She snuggled against his chest. “Where’re we goin’, Maxie?”
“I’m carrying you to bed, rudderbutt.” His cock cooling in the scandalous air, the husky made his best efforts to reach his bedroom before he dripped on the carpet. He did take the time to press his lips to her hair and whisper: “To tie you again before you pass out.”
His lover squeaked, wiggled, and ruffled her muzzle into the fluff of his throat. Wet passion trailed down the waterproof fur at the base of her tail. It seeped into the fur at the crook of his arm, igniting a blush under his cheek fluff.
Slipping through the door, he padded across the darkened room to lay her on the bed. He lay beside her. As his paws drifted over her, he noticed a bow, just like the one over her cleavage, atop the tail of the garment. Tucked warm in bed, visions of unwrapping more presents tomorrow danced through the husky’s head. Eager paws untied it, leaving him to remark how easily her panties pulled free. He really wanted to see her come again. Even though he’d just come, another option occurred to him. Fumbling at the nightstand, he obtained a silicone sex toy from the top drawer. The slightly-squishy phallus emitted a faint glow, just enough to light his paw. Its respectable knot gleamed along its shapely length. Maybe someday, he’d let her use a toy on him. Maybe. But for the moment, he spread her legs and teased the tip of the toy along her sopping slit.
The otter chittered agreeably. The bed creaked under her. Her bared chest rose and fell. Her round little muzzle beckoned for a kiss and he decided it wouldn’t be in the holiday spirit to be stingy. Her lips pressed warm and soft against his.
Pressing in softly, he marveled at how easily she could accommodate the dildo. Even the knot only hesitated a moment before gliding inside, lubricated by their passion. Then again, she’d had another knot in her just moments ago. He blushed under his pelt at the thought. His dick poked valiantly from its sheath.
All four lutrine paws gripped the sheets as he worked the toy in and out of her. Lewd sounds filled the air, a far older and more primal tune for chasing off the midwinter blues. Her tail swished along the smooth fabric. In and out the dildo pressed, leaving the otter wiggling for more. Eventually, she grabbed his hands and pressed it urgently to her entrance. Her body stiffened, forcing a gasp from her. Max wiggled toy’s knot deep inside her, just like she’d mentioned in all those naughty texts. The little extra effort made her head rock in redoubled pleasure. “Mmmmmm!”
He nuzzled in against the side of her neck and listened as her breathing caught up in the quiet darkness. For a minute or so, he left the knot in her. She’d told him how much she enjoyed the fullness. Only when he felt the increasing need to cuddle her half-naked form did he draw it free and return it to the nightstand, quite sticky. Curling up with his lover on the cold December night, he felt his retreating erection slide against the satin-smooth nightie.
“Mmmm, but Maxie…” She whimpered against his neck fluff, half asleep. “I wanna do it again.”
A chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Later, rudderbutt.” He wrapped careful arms around her, not wanting to give her a crick in the neck. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Mollified, she muttered contentment and settled into slumber against him.
Fading fast, he held her against him and enjoyed the afterglow. His breathing steadied as sleep settled over him. Good food, good cheer, good sex: a really excellent day, truth be told. And if he happened to wake up with an otter and an erection, the festivities might just continue. His chin settled atop the otter’s head. Her scent teased his nose, soft and welcoming. He sighed. It might not be the homestead, but curling up with Kylie always felt like home.
Movie Night
Outside Bourn Manor, clouds rolled by and leaves danced on their branches. Inside, a takeout box from Pinchy’s filled the kitchen with a delicious fried shrimp smell. Beside it, an otter refrained from eating them with great selflessness as she attempted to assemble a vegetable platter.
Kylie, having never paid particular attention to how a veggie tray was structured, dumped a whole bag of baby carrots onto a plate. “Is it too late to tell everybody not to come over?”
Her boyfriend sliced celery with calm, careful strokes. “They’re probably already on the way.”
“We could shut off all the lights.” Briefly fighting to unseal a bottle of ranch dressing, she resorted to gnawing it open, then spitting out a stray piece of paper label. “And lock the door. And—”
The dog buried each length of celery under the edge of her carrot hill. “It’s just a movie night, Kylie.”
She upended the ranch bottle and blasted it into a bowl. “I’m fine with movie nights that aren’t in my weird, creepy house.”
Rolling his eyes, Max plucked one radish at a time from the farmers’ market bundle, breaking off any unappetizing leaves and setting them on the plate. “Most people would say that’s a bonus for movie night.”
“Most people aren’t still a little sensitive about being seen as crazy based upon their crazy house.” She seized a bell pepper and raised a cleaver over her head to strike.
Giving a weary sigh, he plucked the knife and then the pepper from her grasp. “We’ve known them for a year. We have to let them come over to our cool house. We told them they could come over.” The husky pointed toward town. “If we tease Karl with it any more, he’s going to bounce in through the window.”
She watched as he cut up the pepper with care but no expertise. “Still.”
“They don’t think you�
��re crazy.” He arranged the pepper slices around the perimeter of the tray, casting her a smirk. “Any more than you actually are.”
“But they’ve never really been in my giant creepy house.” She gestured at the sprawling manor house. “It’s an urban legend!”
“We’re not even urban.” He shrugged. “We’re a suburban legend, at most. That’s much less spooky.”
She jabbed a webbed finger at the end of the driveway. “That ‘ghost tours’ bus still stops by the edge of the driveway.”
“Yeah, but now your mom goes out in her bathrobe whenever she sees them. That seems to be the answer.”
“Bathrobes?” She picked up the ranch bottle again and tried to shake out the stubborn remainder.
He shook his thick muzzle. “No, showing everybody we live here and that it’s just a house.”
A knock rattled the door.
Kylie, clutching the empty ranch bottle in both hands, realized that was a weird thing to do when friends arrived. She chucked it at the trash bin, only to have bounce off the wall with a white splatter. She then realized having a gobs of goo running down the wall was also something abnormal and dove for a dishtowel.
Max, unperturbed, trotted over and opened the front door.
Shane and Sarah, siblings exhibiting completely different degrees of giving a fig, stood on the porch. A drizzle of rain pattered on the old wood planks. Gray clouds clogged the sky.
The orange tabby nodded at his husky host. “Hey.” With fluid ease, he slinked into the dining room and cleaned his glasses.
“Hi Max.” Sarah offered an antsy smile, long ears drooped. Tip-toeing inside, she hopped out of her shoes and set them politely out of the way by the door. Ears up, she peeked into the kitchen and spotted Kylie scrubbing ranch dressing off the wall like a totally normal person and offered her a small wave.
Surrendering to the the idea that she had been caught wrangling salad dressing, she cast the offending dish rag into the sink and bore the veggie tray out toward the guests in triumph. “Snacks! Also, hi!”