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"Gretchen," I shouted from the front room, "It's time to wake up."

I had heard her tossing and turning for a bit. Along with a few 'ah, fucks' that came with the unfortunate revelation of the morning. Gretchen was a lovely, large lady. Not too much unlike myself, other except for her more advanced years. The old moo-cow was starting to get her fair share of wrinkles. She'd complained recently that her breasts were starting to sag, but honestly, I didn't see it. She was just being her own worst critic. She cited her advanced age as a reason for me not to pursue her romantically, but while it may seem strange with me at twenty-three and her at forty-four, I doubted it would matter when I was fifty and she was seventy-one.

Her body was, as far as I could tell, in tip-top shape. A great big belly, tan fur, and long brown hair that stayed straight even right out of bed somehow. I watched it move down the hall and turn the corner into the bathroom. I was anxious for her to get out to the front room, so while she was in there I listened carefully to her as she expelled her fluids into the bowl, making final preparations for her birthday breakfast. She had specifically told me she wanted to avoid going out to celebrate. In fact, she told me she didn't want to celebrate at all, but I convinced her that we should eat in.

The toilet flushed and I placed the metal container full of syrup right between my legs. She walked out of the bathroom to see me putting two hot fried eggs over both of my nipples. My breasts were large enough that the hung to the side. The pancakes were on my gut. Heat from the syrup container warmed up my tiny package. I was on the coffee table in the front room, since the dining room table was too high and too weak to support her chubby little hyena.

She didn't know what to make of the sight. This was a fantasy of hers, after all, though one that I had never indulged before. First, she expressed a bit of shock, knowing that this particular fantasy was a tiny bit out of my comfort zone. Then she sucked her lips in with an "mmm" sound. Then she tried to hide her expression all together as she made her way over to the couch. There, waiting for her, were a fork and knife. We are civilized people, after all.

"Where should I begin?" she said to herself.

"Where ever you like," I told her, "But we usually work our way down, don't we?"

She cut into the egg. It was over easy, so the hot yellow goo dripped all over my nipple. It burned and my little bit jerked a bit in its skin with delight. Bits of it got caught up in my brown spotted fur. She sucked it out before it could get matted in too deep. She repeated the actions. Cut, eat, then clean. I tried to stay still and silent, but the hot food on my fur was making me sweat.

Cutting the eggs was easy enough. I never felt the knife touch me. The fork, on the other hand, poked me with all four prongs every time. Despite my efforts to be still and silent, I found myself having to adjust my arms and legs constantly as my body reacting to so many different bits of stimulation at once. She finished the egg closest to her, and then went right for the pancakes.

But what are pancakes without syrup? She picked up the hot metal container from between my legs. It grazed my testicles. I couldn't tell if it was an accident or not. It burned into the fleshy bit and I couldn't stop a spontaneous kick from my right leg. Then she poured it right on the center of the stack of pancakes. I braced myself for the steaming sticky mess by closing my eyes, turning my head, and biting my lower lip. I expected it immediately, but Gretchen kept it to the center of the stack. It wasn't until I relaxed my body that the fur and flesh on my protruding gut was burned by steaming hot goop. I endured it with a long, wavering inhale.

"Delicious," the moo-cow said, placing the now mostly empty container of syrup back between my legs. This time she specifically made sure it was placed against my scrotum. My part slipped out of its packaging just in time for the syrup that was running down all sides of my belly to burn it as well. Then the knife came down. Now I felt it scratching against my fur. There was a lot of pressure, but no cutting. The Cow ate it all in great big bites.

She put the utensils down and leaned over my chest. She grabbed the egg from my other breast with her teeth. She pulled and sucked it down in one quick move. It dragged across the nipple, which she then proceeded to suck and nibble. She reached over the half eat pancake and massaged my red hot testes with her fingers, rubbing the tip with her palms. She then pulled my nipple upward to work the underside of my breast with her tongue. She soaked the fur as she brought her tongue back up from the underside to the now stretched nip.

"Hilly," she said, taking her other arm from my crotch, dangling a large syrup drenched flab over my mouth. A tiny thin strand drizzled down onto my nose, " Look at this mess. Can you be a good girl and clean it up for me?"

I started working at it with my tongue. I heard a very soft thank you while she crossed her other arm under, trying herself in a bit of a knot just so she could finish eating the pancakes. Only having one free hand to do it, she cut the golden brown disks with the fork. This forced my tongue off more than once, so I decided it would be easier to just suck the syrup from the flab. I wrapped my lips around it, soaked with saliva, and pulled the spit and syrup back into my mouth. Then she finished the pancakes.

Much of the syrup was still matted into my fur, and she didn't like being wasteful. She sucked the sweet brown mattes and brock them up with her tongue. Sometimes it hurt, sometimes it tickled. She made her way down to the cock. Even when erect it still stayed somewhat soft. It wasn't all that big. The whole thing fits in her mouth. She slurped a mixture of semen and syrup into her mouth since I was already starting to drip with a bit of excitement. I was probably dripping from the moment she came out of the room from the anticipation alone. Then, before I could orgasm, she pulled away. I rubbed myself to completion as she stood up and walked to the kitchen.

"Thanks for the breakfast," she said.