His daughter, a red dragoness with a yellow underbelly leaned upon the fence, bent almost double with her tail swinging like a lazy pendulum.
Bar her mother's stripes, Helena could have been the spitting image of the older dragoness, not solely from publicly acceptable appearance.
The cougar's eyes were the colour of the moon and four green tendrils waved gently, sprouting from his back.
He did not feel the cold as much as most, though the nip to his bare foot-paws quickened his step: home was near, not much further.
He would not tip her over until he had his fill, the self-serving demon that he was.
Tail thrashing, the cougar hammered into Helena, giving no thought for her comfort as he slammed as deep as was possible, foreskin slipping back every time he thrust in and teasing a breath, half-moan from his lips. Alas, the threat of exposure shortened their frenzied, hasty coupling.
"Checking the horses," the dragoness replied, tail twitching against her legs. She'll drop soon." "Good, she's taken long enough about it," Ropes barked a laugh, the sound reverberating. Ropes pushed too close to her back for her to spread her wings, so she could only thrash and growl indignantly through his paw without cutting their liaison short, inhaling the scent of his fur conditioner with every harsh breath.
"Almost like the daft mare doesn't want another foal." He paused. The cougar thrust brutally, two tentacles twining around the dragoness' hips and abdomen to hold her in place while the other two held her paws to the fence.
Tugging at his black jacket, the cougar looked towards home, away and then back again, startled for a rare moment by what, or more accurately who, he saw.
Ropes had seen his daughter with little to no attire, many a time, often when she was moaning his name. "We can't do it here - come on, it'll be warmer in the house and we can go to the laundry room, they'll never hear us - hey!
A cocky smile perked the cougar's lips and he sauntered up to the fence, tendrils curling and uncurling as if to seduce Helena with their sinuous curves. " Ignoring the dragoness, Ropes tugged down her yoga pants and underwear, uncaring of what lingerie she had decided upon that evening. Beneath his paws, the dragoness shuddered, moaning and arching her back as he nudged his fingers into her dripping pussy - no time for foreplay. " Chest heaving, Helena nodded - there was no choice in the matter. The cougar yanked down his jeans, forgoing the use of underwear that day - it never failed to earn him a wink from the bartender, she had a sixth sense about her - cock swelling in the cold air.
Fields rolled forth from both sides of the road, properties spaced out and expansive where they appeared. The pub could be closer, however, if he had one complaint; it was better than drinking at home, far more sociable.
There was no harm in a drink or two or three or four every once in a while.