FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Zhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-Boom!-put-put-put-put-put-put-put.

"Oh no, no, no, no, no!"

Just like that, Olivia Jones' car engine was dead. From her home a few hundred miles back to the country roads she now found herself stranded in, her Honda had zoomed through picturesque Americana without a hiccup. Then, without warning, the engine made one last fart of effort then died. Well, there actually had been a warning, one that Olivia pretty much ignored. Midway through her journey the loathed check-engine light flickered on, staining her instrument panel with its insidious yellow glow. She had reacted to it with no more than an annoyed groan. Now was not the time for her car to demand money out of her bank account, not when she had already spent so much on presents for her family. She would take care of it when she got there, or when she got back home after the holidays.

Reality has a habit of throwing curveballs. She could reflect on that while gripping the unpowered steering wheel for dear life and clamping her teeth in a panicked snarl. She swerved the car over to the curb which was nothing but grass and spare gravel. The rubber tires slumped off the precipitous asphalt and crackled on the rocks as she coasted to a stop. The brief chaos was replaced by dreadful silence; the only remaining sound was the huff of her breath through her flaring nostrils.

The back of her head bumped into the headrest and her hands slid off the steering wheel. An agonized groan bellowed from her throat. "FUCK!" Her fists slammed back down on the steering wheel. A tuft of white hair fell down her forehead as she bowed her head in defeat. "Fuck... Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." Her fists wrenched and she started to thrash herself back and forth, whipping her snowy horse mane into a frizzled catastrophe. "FUCK!"

She came to a rest and tried to collect herself. "Whoooo... Whoooo... Deep breaths." No point in freaking out. Well, there was, but it wasn't going to help her any. She looked over in the passenger seat where her wool button jacket was crumpled up. Winter was in full swing just outside the window, sapping the heat out of the cabin rapidly. She snatched the jacket up and threw it on, hoping it would be enough to ward off hypothermia should she become stranded here. A curt pull on the door handle and the car flew open. Crisp southern chill flooded the car, raking across her cheeks and snout. She stepped her boot onto the dry roadside and stepped out into the breezy emptiness around her.

There was a sprawling farm on the side of the road where she had parked, separated from her by a crude wooden fence that ran around the entire property for as far as she could see. The other side was nothing but gray forest, a menagerie of jagged branches bereft of any leaves. She looked and felt dreadfully out of place amidst it all, wearing her designer jacket and heavy fur boots. The skinny jeans wrapped around her swollen horse thighs did virtually nothing to ward off the cold. Her steel-gray fur and fancifully brushed white mane was not the proper kind of attire one would see on a horse, not in these parts. She crossed her arms in front of her chest tightly, darting her lavender eyes to see if there was anyone else around. There wasn't, nothing but her and her piece-of-shit Honda. But that was unfair. It had given her the signs that it was ready to blow. More than a decade of unproblematic service had convinced her that there was no need to fret over it. Now here she was suffering for the neglect, wondering with a growing sense of panic if she would make it out of there in time to see her family.

She turned to face the farm. The barn was far off to the right, barely visible beyond a swell of hill that was in the center of the property. Atop it sat a gnarled oak, looking as alone as she was, albeit much more a part of the environment. The roof of what had to be the main house peeked above the hill's summit. There lie her only hope in getting some help. She didn't have any service to call anyone, something she realized earlier when the podcast she was playing on her phone died away. There was no point in checking under the hood. She didn't know a damn thing about cars, let alone how to fix one.

She sighed, letting out a plume of vapor from her mouth which was already starting to chap. Peeling off of the main road and into a gap in the fence was a gravel driveway, one that winded over the hill and presumably into the front yard of the farmhouse. Olivia tightened her arms over her chest, slid her hands into her armpits, and walked her way up the road to get some help. As she passed through dirt road leading into the property she looked around for any NO TRESPASSING signs. I'd rather not get shot out here. That would suck.

The march down the driveway and up the hill was a long one. Gradually the farmhouse revealed itself, turning into a large two-story home Olivia thought would be a nice place to retire in. Images of her in an armchair, sipping on a cup of hot chocolate while a fireplace crackled in front of her filled her mind. Maybe if I'm lucky they'll let me in. Southern people are supposed to be polite, right? Recalling some of her in-laws who hailed from the south, she realized that maybe her odds weren't too in her favor.

She made it to the front porch, continuously eying the windows for any signs of life. It was midday, so no lights were on, neither did she see anybody. Her best hope was two pickup trucks parked out front. She prayed that whoever drove them were mechanically inclined. The porchsteps creaked as she stomped up them to the front door. She took a deep breath, drew her hand out from her armpit, and rang the doorbell.

Ding dong!

The reaction was almost instant. There came the sudden shift of bodies from within the house, one of which came stomping towards the door. For the first time since her engine died, Olivia smiled. It was the first thing the gentleman opening the door saw once he answered it. He was a horse like Olivia, a young one too. A dense brown coat covered his expression of concern once he saw her shivering form huddled on the welcome mat in front of him. He wore a dense Carhartt coat and jeans, an outfit that was much more appropriate than what she was wearing. His jet-black mane was buzzed short. The nose at the end of his snout was a rosy pink.

"Hello!" he said. His voice sounded as young as he looked. Olivia didn't put him out of his mid-twenties.

"Hey. I'm sorry. My car broke down right on the road in front of your house." She aimed her thumb over her shoulder behind her. "I don't have any reception to call a tow truck. Can I use your phone?" It was agonizing how fragile she sounded.

The fellow didn't seem to agree in the least. "Absolutely! Come on in! Come on in! Get out of the cold." He stepped aside and opened the door wider for her.

It was the most beautiful thing Olivia had seen in days. "Thank you so much." She stepped inside and was greeted by the heavenly bliss of warm air on her face. She could finally drop her arms from her chest without letting the cold bite at her fingers. Shaking her frost-nipped fingers out in front of her, she looked up to see a sprawling foyer decked in fine hardwood. A modest chandelier hung from the ceiling. It was as welcoming on the inside as on the out, Olivia was pleased to find.

The gentleman closed the door behind her. "You can take your jacket off if you'd like. Get as comfortable as you need to." He stepped up next to her. "What's your name?"

"Olivia." Leaving out her last name was second nature.

He extended his hand. It was gloved in soft white fur and bulging with thick tendons. "John. I'd say 'nice to meet you' but I think you've had better days."

She smiled and shook his hand. "I have, but it's going a lot better now that I'm in here. Nice to meet you, John."

"Likewise. The living room's this way if you wanna take a load off. Like I said, get comfortable. I can see if me or one of my buddies can fix your car that way you won't need a tow truck to come all the way out here."

A heavy sigh heaved out of her. "That sounds great, thank you." She followed him down a short hall into the living room. It was smothered in southern décor, from wood-framed family portraits to a double-barrel shotgun on the wall above the fireplace. Somewhat out of place was the enormous 4k television and its entertainment system. Olivia helped herself to a seat on the center of the couch. The pervading sense of being a fish out of water drew her arms back around her chest. Relax. They're being helpful. Nothing's going to happen. Regardless of her inner monologue, she drew her phone from her pocket and checked the reception. Not a single bar. Great.

"Can I get you anything?" the man asked. He was halfway in the hallway where they had entered the living room from. "I'm going to ask some of my guys upstairs if they can't help figure what's wrong with your car."

Olivia took note of the fireplace and the black leather armchair in front of it. She was all but certain that they had a box of Swiss Miss in the pantry and a thick quilt in a closet somewhere. Again, she put it out of her mind. "I'm fine, thank you."

"Alright. Don't be afraid to holler." He disappeared back into the hallway and stomped up the foyer steps. Olivia listened closely, looking up at the ceiling where she could hear him going to wherever his buddies were. A door opened. Some muffled country music grew louder. John said some words she couldn't make out. What followed was a collective journey to the foyer which Olivia could visualize as footprints materializing on the ceiling above her. There was a drum solo of two, maybe three sets of feet coming down the staircase. She drew her attention to the hallway and saw John reappear with another friend of his, a shorter, more squat horse with black fur and a shaggy white mane.

The newcomer laid eyes on Olivia and lit a bright smile. "Howdy!"

She waved back. "Hello."

"This is my buddy Dale," John said. "Ron is here too." John pointed into the hallway behind Dale. "These guys'll help you find out whatever's the matter with your car. Hopefully they can fix it."

Olivia stood up from the couch, smiling bashfully. "Oh, thank you so much."

"No problem," Dale said with a nod of his head.

"You're welcome!" said the unseen Ron.

"They'll drive you up to your car and see what's up." John said.

"Oh, great. Thank you, again." Olivia walked up to the hallway where the men were filing into the foyer to make way for her. Once she was inside, she got her first look at the elusive Ron. He was a horse like the other three, albeit much skinnier than his friends. A heavy jacket was draped over his shoulders. His fur was gray with dapples of black. A baseball cap sat on his head with a single tooth of gray mane hanging down his forehead. Fitting the theme of his two friends, he looked young. He made a smile to greet Olivia once he saw her.

It quickly vanished. His icy blue eyes went round when he saw her. His genial smile regained some composure, but not without a detectable sense of conscious coercing. He said nothing. The young man was stuck where he was, looking at her like she had just said some inappropriate joke he thought was funny but was too proud to laugh at. Olivia's heart plummeted. She had seen that look before. She had braced for it when meeting John and Dale. When she didn't get it she let her guard down. Now here was Ron giving it to her in full with absolutely no subtlety.

It was a look of recognition, one that Olivia had been getting from men ever since she began her career as a pornstar.

It was something that came with the job, of course. Using your body for the entertainment of millions meant she could not live a life of anonymity. A career spanning several years meant she had garnered both the fame and admiration one would expect among the highest earners in her field. By no means was she an instantly recognizable celebrity, but there was never a full week without the odd fellow on the street shooting her some excited glances just like Ron was giving her now. Most men were polite and kept their distance. Some did not. With Ron's mind replaying the countless lewd things Olivia had done to earn her bread, she could only hope that his lips would remain sealed.

Fortunately, they would for now. "Hi," was all he said once he managed the power to do so.

Olivia just smiled. "Hi."

"I'm Ron."

"Olivia."

A flash of life beamed across his mien. She fully expected him to say I know. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too."

Dale opened the front door and led her outside. Ron followed behind. She could all but feel his eyes digging into her plump backside where her signature tattoos lay just beneath the seat of her jeans. Once the three of them were out on the porch Ron closed the door and walked down the porch steps, not so much as sparing her another glance. It's alright, she told herself. He's being respectful. So should you.

"You're parked out by the fence, you said?" Dale asked, snapping her out of her throughts.

"Oh yeah!" She pointed out beyond the hill. "Over there. You can't see it, but I'm there."

"Alright! Hop on in my truck then." Dale waltzed over to the nearest truck, an absurdly over-hitched pickup with foot-tall gaps between the wheels and the well. The sort and stocky Dale looked hilarious when next to it, although Olivia couldn't help but notice how thick the muscles stretched across his back and arms were as he walked around to the driver's side. When he opened the door and dropped his foot on the stepping bar the entire side of the truck sagged.

Olivia had to reach up to grab the handle. Opening it revealed how the top of the seat came up to her chest. Dale was sitting in the driver's seat, looking down at her. He appeared to be amused by the city girl' mild intimidation. He leaned over to her and held out his fat hoof-hand. "Come on up here," he said.

Olivia hoisted her boot onto the stepping bar and grabbed his hand. When he pulled her upright she felt like a small child, he was so strong. She instinctively grabbed onto the roof handle so that she wouldn't fall. A look of bewilderment came over her. "Thanks."

Dale just smiled and nodded his head. "No problem."

She took a seat while Ron hopped in right behind her. The trip up the driveway was brief, too brief for any real conversation. The gravel crackled beneath the monstrous truck wheels while Olivia looked out the window, praying with all of her might that these two guys would help her get the hell out of there. Dale pulled up on the opposite side of the road next to Olivia's Honda. Ron hopped out and offered his hand to help her out of the truck. She declined, kindly insisting that she could get down herself. What followed was a painfully prolonged sequence of Olivia trying to get her foot down on the stepping bar while still holding on to the roof handle. Ron remained on the side, hands in his pocket so that he could resist the building urge to help.

She eventually got down and the three of them gathered around her hood. Ron opened the driver's door and unlatched the hood so that Dale could open it and peer inside. The two men spent a few minutes muttering to each other, words Olivia didn't quite fully hear or comprehend. The two of them took turns pointing at something and sharing thoughts. Finally, they stood upright and shut the hood. The looks on their faces did not bode well.

"How bad is it?" Olivia asked.

"Well, it ain't good." Dale told her. "Nothing me or Ron got ready that can fix it and get you out of here. If we were near a garage we could help, but the nearest one is pretty far away, and I don't think there's anything we can do now to get things running long enough to take you there."

Olivia had expected as much since the very beginning. Still her heart turned to lead once she heard it out loud. "OK. I got it." A vulgar syllable was on her tongue. She bit it back. "What should I do now?"

"Well..." Dale put his hands on his hips and sighed. "You can come back inside and call a tow truck. They'll take you some place to stay, but I wouldn't make you pay for someplace when you can stay here for free."

Olivia's tail stood upright behind her. Oh God, please, yes. The ardent shake of her head said otherwise. "No no no! You don't have to do that!"

"Just letting you know that the offer's on the table. I'm ready to bet the other guys'll be alright with it, and I know for a fact Mr. Rodriguez won't be too upset about us lending a helping hand to a gal in need."

Other guys, as in guys other than John. How many are there? Who owns this place? That wasn't important. Right now Olivia wanted to be back inside where it was warm and where she could call someone to get her car. "OK. We'll talk about it, I guess." She did an about face and speed-walked back to Dale's truck. "I just want out of this cold."

Ron and Dale followed her, smiling. "Yes ma'am."

Dale drove them back and the three of them stepped back into the warm embrace of the house. John met them in the foyer. "How is it?" he asked.

Olivia shook her head sadly. "Not good. Car is busted. Need a tow."

"Oh nooooo. Well, shoot." He thought for a moment. "Are you going to stay somewhere in town?"

"We talked about that. I offered her a place to stay." Dale said.

John's face lit up. "Well, there you go! You can stay as long as you need to."

The bitter cold that gripped her skin dissipated under the blooming warmth of her appreciation. "Thank you so much. I hope it's not too much."

John shook his head. "Not at all. We need the company. It's just been us five guys here the past few weeks. You're more than welcome to add to that."

Five of them. I still have two more to meet. With Ron looming behind her, she wondered if they too were going to recognize her.

The home phone was in the den behind the living room. Olivia had to borrow a phone book- something she hadn't used in God knew how long -and called a tow company. Less than an hour later one showed up. She filled some brief paper work and watched despondently as her car was hooked up and dragged onto the black steel flatbed. John was with her; he had driven her back up the driveway to meet the tow truck driver. They stood next to each other as her car disappeared down the road.

"Well, at least its in good hands now," John said.

"Yeah."

He looked over at her and saw her staring at the part of road where it curved behind the forest and vanished behind the adjacent forest. "Is there anything I can do for you?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said. She smirked at him. "You got any hot chocolate?"

* * *

Olivia had achieved her vision of sublime comfort. The armchair was kicked back with a quilt draped across it, dangling the corners just an inch over the shiny hardwood floor. Nestled on top of it was Olivia, holding a white porcelain mug of steaming coco in both hands. Crackling in front of her was an electric fireplace. Between sips of that blissfully hot juice she would wiggle her exposed toes in the glowing flames. She had determined that her car breaking down wasn't all that bad.

The gentlemen who had gathered around her to keep her company agreed. They were in the living room with her, seated across the sofa and at the kitchen table nearby. Dale and John were at the table, turned in their seats towards her as they switched between watching the crackling flames and the pretty woman seated in front of them. The sofa was full with Ron and Olivia's two latest acquaintances, Marlo and Myron. The two brothers had met her shortly after the tow truck departed with her car. They had been preoccupied with a very heated match of Call of Duty when John showed up and told them a lady was here that needed their help. Being far too invested in the game, they were happy to let Dale and Ron go in their stead. Deciding which brother was the superior gamer was an everlasting pursuit. Some random lady whose car broke down wasn't going to put a stop to it.

That was until Ron kindly explained to them that it was Olivia Jones- yes, that Olivia Jones, -who was currently downstairs asking for a cup of hot chocolate.

They called bullshit. Ron invited them to see for themselves. Now here they were shoulder to shoulder on the couch with Ron, staring dumbly at the famed throat-GOAT whose accomplished lips were placidly sipping on a mug Marlo had drank out of that morning. The brothers were both intimately familiar with her work. When they were younger they and their friends would often discuss their favorite porn actresses. Olivia came up frequently. Boasts were made as to what they would do to her if they ever met her in real life. Now that they were sitting in the same room with her all they could do was sit quietly and try not to think about the many times they had seen her in action.

John and Dale were not spared the same discomfort. Ron took the two of them aside while Olivia's hot chocolate simmered in the microwave to ask them if they knew who she was. They said no. Ron told them. He was given a simple "Oh," in response from John. "Well, don't say anything to her," he commanded while searching his memory for any times he might have seen her on a computer screen late one night.

Dale laughed it off. "Yeah, don't go tryin' nothing. Just 'cause you've seen her do some things doesn't mean she'll do 'em to you," he said while actively wondering what it would take to get her naked. The five of them each formulated their own personal plot to get her nude. Whatever the sequence, they knew it was just a fantasy. Real life wasn't like porn. Just let the lady be and treat her like any other.

Olivia, meanwhile, was keenly aware of their blatant staring and undoubtable thoughts of having carnal knowledge with her. It didn't faze her in the least. With a warm tummy and tasty beverage there wasn't much that could bother her at all, least of all the appreciation of a few handsome young men. She looked over at them and smiled. "So, who owns this place? You mentioned a Mr. Rodriguez. Where's he?"

John answered her. "On vacation with his family for the winter. We're just hands for hire to keep the place occupied and running while he's gone. Earnin' his trust by looking after the place."

"And that takes five of you?"

"Well, there's more to the farm than just this house. A whole lot. Stuff's gotta be kept ready for next growin' season. Too much for one fella."

"Normally there are five other guys who live here but they're gone too for other places to work," Ron added.

"I see." Olivia sipped from her mug. "That's nice. I hope he doesn't mind y'all inviting people in to spend the night."

A collective grin fell among the five men. "No, we don't think he will," Dale said. Not when it's a lady as special as yourself.

"Good. If it is, I'll gladly pay it back for him however I can," she said before taking another refined sip of coco. Each man had an idea of just exactly how she could pay it back, and it didn't involve money. "I just hope the repair shop will have my car ready soon. Maybe I can get a cab out here if it doesn't."

There was a miniature clamor to be the first one to speak. "No need! One of us can take you where you need to go," said Ron.

"Yeah!" agreed John.

"Yeah," added Dale.

"Doesn't matter how far," Marlo said.

"We'll get you there," Myron concluded.

Olivia just smiled. "Why, thank you very much. You're all awfully kind." She took the last few swigs from her coco until there was nothing left but a thin film of brown and a few clots of melted mini-marshmellow. She held the mug out. "Can one of you take this?"

"I got it," said two voices in unison. Marlo and Myron shot up from their seats and came after her shoulder to shoulder in what was just short of a jog. Both of their hands reached for the mug, desperate to be the first one. Myron lucked out and got to it first by a hair. Olivia saw a glimpse of spite come across Marlo's face before he retreated back to the couch and sat back down. A triumphant Myron marched to the kitchen proudly, white tail flashing behind him. 'Can I get you another one?" he asked.

"No thank you, sweet heart."

"Alright." He put the mug in the sink and came back with a shit eating grin on his face. He shot his brother a cheeky look as he sat down. Hear that? She called me 'sweet heart'. Marlo just shook his head slightly.

Olivia pretended to miss their brotherly competition. She leaned back in her chair and pulled the quilt up to her collar. "Mmmm, I think I might go to sleep right here tonight. It's too comfy in front of this fire."

"Way better than in the freezing cold, ain't it?" Dale asked.

She nodded. "Mmhmm." She closed her eyes. The day had been a long and cold one. Some sleep would've done her good. She felt herself slipping towards it. The occasional snap of the fireplace and its oscillating glow kept her awake for just a little longer.

"Are you going to sleep right now?" Marlo asked.

Well, not if you guys stay here. "Not right this second," she said, eyes still closed. "Just resting my eyes, is all."

"Gotcha. Um..." Marlo shot a glance at the fellows to his left on the couch with him. Them and the men at the table all looked at him, wordlessly telling him the same thing. If you're gonna do it, do it. Marlo looked back over at Olivia and manned up. "What did you say you did for a living?"

Olivia opened her eyes. Her steely irises rolled in their sockets over at the couch where three men's sphincters currently puckered into vices. She figured this was coming. "I don't think I did. Why?"

All eyes were on Marlo. He looked like he wanted to sink into the sofa and disappear. "Just... curious."

The corner of Olivia's mouth lifted. Time to have some fun. "What do you think I do?"

"Well. I didn't know. I-" He cleared his throat. "Just thought you were... an accountant. I guess."

His brother shot him a nasty look. An accountant? Really?

Myron shrugged at him. I don't know! Help me out!

Olivia giggled. "No, I was never a fan of sittin' behind a desk all day."

Marlo laughed nervously. "Nah, I didn't think so."

"Something tells me you boys already know what it is I do." She looked at Ron. "I know you do."

A guilty smile came across him. "Yeah, I think I do."

She cocked an accusing eyebrow at him. "Did you tell them?"

His smile vanished. He pursed his lips and licked them. "Yes ma'am."'

She smiled. "Don't worry. I don't care. I ain't ashamed of what I do."

The agonizing tension that had been growing for the past hour finally deflated, at least a little. Ron still felt it pertinent to apologize. "Sorry. I didn't mean to make it seem bad."

Olivia shook her head. "Don't be. All you boys act the same around girls like me. You're all the same."

The gentlemen all shared a laugh. "Well, now that it's all out in the open," Ron said. "I guess I can tell you I'm a fan a' yours."

Olivia bowed her head. "Why, thank you."

Myron was snickering. Marlon gave him an elbow. "Shut up, dude. You jerk off more than I do."

Myron's laughter gave way into venomous hissing. "Shutthefuckup!"

Everyone else had a good laugh.

"That's OK. You're not the only one, you know. By show of hands, how many of you have seen one of my movies?" she asked, then added, "Be honest."

Ron and Marlo went up first, if reluctantly. Myron followed. The two men in the back remained still, until finally their hands went up too.

"I might have," John admitted. "It's not like I haven't seen my share of titty flicks in the past."

"Yeah, me too," Dale confessed. "Though I can't name any of 'em in particular."

"Oh?" Olivia said. "Not 'Olivia goes for a ride'? Or 'Olivia Goes for a Ride 2'?" She chuckled. "Those are classics. Come on."

While Dale wasn't quite familiar with those pieces, his imagination conjured up what it might have entailed. "Well! I'll have to check them out some time," Dale quipped.

"I'd appreciate it~"

The three men on the couch had seen both of them and replayed them in their heads. One shot in particular, one of Olivia on her back with her ankles astride her ears, stayed the most prominent for Ron. Flesh jostling, muscles spasming, balls swinging, he remembered it all quite vividly. Among the debauchery was a certain detail that, once it fell back into his memory, made his ears perk. "Hey, are you a Colts fan?"

Olivia's ears stood upright in turn. "As a matter of fact, I am." She shot him a sideways glance. "And how did you know that?"

"Well, if my memory serves me correctly, you have a couple tattoos."

She nodded. "I think your memory's working just fine. I have a pair of them lucky shoes on me." Her eyes bounced went to each man. "You boys wanna see?"

In unison their eyes went wide. They remained calm, but the bounce of their horse tails gave them away. It was Myron who braved their collective answer. "Yes."

"Alright. Let me show you then." They sat in complete stillness as Olivia tossed the quilt off of her and to the floor below. That left her in her skinny jeans and white shirt through which her nipples made themselves apparent on her breasts. She spared them a saucy look before standing up, spinning around, and calmly undoing her fly. She dropped the waist of her pants to just beneath the bottom swell of her buttocks. Out jiggled her ass, perfectly framed by her half-crumpled jeans and the white shirt above it. Pompous and round, it bloated out of her with a presence hotter than the fire still burning nearby. Two hemispheres of soft gray fur peered back at the men. Running down her equine trench was a strip of white fabric. It failed to cover the great portrait of ass being presented, least of all the nicely spaced pair of blue horse shoes that were printed on the forefront of her cheeks. They were a reflection of her undying dedication to the Indianapolis Colts as well as a signature her many adoring fans loved to see recoiling back and forth amidst a bouncing wave of horse butt.

It was certainly being admired at that moment. Not one of them knew quite what to say, or even what to really think. Here was a picturesque landscape of hindquarters being presented to them in full. What should've been wild elation was mostly dumb shock. However they reacted to it emotionally, they all had the same physical response. Their manhoods stirred in their sheathes even more than they already had been. What had been deemed a fantasy was quite abruptly a very real possibility.

Olivia looked over he shoulder and saw their gawking faces. A teasing swish of her tail gave them an even better look. "Don't stare too hard. You're making me self-conscious." Their gazes snapped away and scattered elsewhere among the living room. Olivia giggled. "I'm just teasing you." She teased them even harder by letting her jeans slide the rest of the ay down her legs to the floor below. Two towers of Rubenesque design came to light. Well structured calves blew up into barrel thighs. Another burst of woman appeared around her hips, then swerved into her toned trunk. She turned around and sat on the arm of the chair. Now all of the men were blushing. She crossed one leg over the other and jutted her chest out at them. "You know, I don't think I properly thanked you boys for having me over." She tilted her head off to the side. "You wanna make this stay more fun?"

The answer was a resounding 'yes', but the response was more neutral silence. Was this really happening? Their minds weren't fucking with them, right? Was she serious? Well, she had just shown them her ass, and it was obvious that she was prepared to show them a whole lot more. Indeed, the heart-simmering look in her eyes told that she was more than happy too. It was the least she could do.

The lack of response persisted. Clearly they needed time to think. "Is there a bedroom upstairs I can sleep in?" No answer. More blank stares. "That's OK. I'll find one." She stood up from the chair. One deft pull on the hem of her shirt and it was off of her, leaving her bra. She reached behind her, unclasped it, and did away with it. Her breasts came spilling forth, wholesome and heavy, dotted by a pair of dark blue nipples which perked in the still air. Her thumbs went into her underwear, and down they went too. She casually flicked them off of her foot towards the couch. It landed on the hardwood between Myron's feet. He didn't notice. He was too busy looking at the thin thatch of fur above Olivia's chalice. "Now, if you'll excuse me." She did a brisk turnaround and strutted her way to the foyer. Five heads turned on their swivels to watch a pair of horseshoes jiggle with step, then disappear around the corner as she headed up the stair case.

Finding a bedroom was easy. She just opened a door, saw a bed, then walked inside to claim it as her own. It was a sprawling king mattress covered in a cloudy white comforter. On the nightstand next to it was a framed picture of Mr. Rodriguez, his wife, and beautiful daughter. The master bedroom. Perfect. Olivia slid onto the bed and made herself comfortable. She rested her head on the pillow, folded her hands over her tummy, and patiently waited for whoever wanted to show up.

It wasn't a long wait. She heard footsteps coming up the foyer steps. To her delight, it sounded like more than one. Appearing in the doorway was Ron, wearing the most childish grin she had ever seen on a man's face. Behind him was Marlo and Myron, also glowing with eagerness. She was just ready to say hello to the three of them when Dale appeared behind them too. Shortly thereafter came John who had something like a thousand-yard stare on his face, somewhere between numb shock and oafish glee. All five of them. Full house. Awesome.