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Life out in the suburbs was always a dream for Bertha Kine--a chance to get out of the hustle and bustle of the city and make a good start for her children. Not many other cows in her family could say they left the rural life of the farmstead and went to college like her. Fewer still knew ever said they'd forsake a 9-5 to work from home to spend more time there for their families.

She watches out the kitchen window as she packs the lunches for the coming week. She scoops a half-cup measure of oats into mason jars, watching the sprawling grass of the large yard and admiring the simplistic beauty of such a dream home.

Bob is outside, letting the evening sun beat down his shirtless chest. If anyone had a dad bod, it was that old bull, to be sure. And she loved him for it, despite losing that football-player physique she had fallen in love with all those years ago.

"Hey, Mom, do we have any whole milk?"

"No, Billy," the momma cow says, turning to face her son, hands on her hips. "I told your father to buy some, but he just got up to do the lawn."

The next man of the house sighs. Billy takes after his mother's Holstein appearance But wears his father's shaggy Highland hair down over his eyes. He bites his lip and marches past his mother, opening the fridge and swishing his tail. "Dangit!" he grumbles. "I can't game without my snacks."

Bertha pats her son's head, cooing softly. "There, there, dear. There's nothing to worry about."

The young man grunts, spinning on his hoof and marching back down the stairs to his little gamer den.

Bertha scoops another half-cup of oats but pauses and looks to the pink mason jar a moment, frowning.

The housewife makes her way up the stairs, holding the jar, and approaches the room down the hall. She takes a deep breath and knocks on the door.

No response.

"Becca?" She asks, whispering.

No response.

"Do you still like oats in your meal? Or are you going green only?"

The door opens a crack, and Bertha's nose wrinkles. The face that peers half-hidden is as shaggy and unkempt as Bertha's husband, but with even less of the maintenance her husband provides.

"I'm streaming."

"Becca, I know you work hard, dear. It's just I wanted to make sure you were eating right and-

"Just grass. No oats." The young woman says, shutting the door curtly.

Bertha sighs, returning to the kitchen, where she pours some lemonade for Bob. She walks out onto the deck, wiping her brow. "Wow, it's so hot, even with the shade."

Bob parks his mower and hobbles up the stairs. "Yup," he grunts, taking the drink and guzzling it.

"Lots of hard work for my man," Bertha teases, tapping his stomach.

He snorts. "Can't push mower anymore," he grumbles.

"Huh?"

"The gut. It's my excuse."

She frowns.

"Do you think I should lose weight?"

"Huh?" he adjusts his baseball cap, looking down at her through his shag-covered eyes. "Woman... the hell you talkin' about?"

"No need to get that tone with me," Bertha says. "I work hard, every day, keeping this house in order. I can't help that I'm getting older. I can't help the kids aren't clip-clopping around the deck anymore!"

Bob wraps his arms around her, pulling her in close. He's sweaty, sticky, and stinky, but Bertha can't help herself from hugging him back, anyway.

"I want to have that again, Bob."

"Huh?"

"I want to have the pitter-patter of feet. The cooing of a calf. I want to make milk again."

"Whoa, now. Where did this come from?" Bob says, stomping away, hands going into his jeans pockets.

"The doctor said we could conceive again."

"Bill's 20! I ain't a young bull no more, Bertha," Bob snorts. "And it ain't like you're willing to do what I want to get it up."

"I don't like doing butt stuff," Bertha says, folding her arms over her chest. "I think this conversation's over, Bob."

"Yeah, I think so, too," he says, "Thanks for the drink."

Bertha storms out of the house. Even as the sun sinks deep into the horizon, the heat gets to the cow. She slumps on the porch, sitting back and staring at the moon above. "Dang it all," she grumbles. "What am I gonna do?"

The hiss of hydraulics helps her back to reality from the pool of darkness that swirled within her mind. She sees a moving truck pull up at the old Henderson place.

Blinking, she climbs to her hooves and dusts off her mom's jeans.

Large and broad-shouldered workers climb out of the truck, each hefting large furniture sets. As Bertha watches them, she wraps an arm around her side, bringing a knuckle to her mouth, which she bites and suckles, seeing the men working in the scant dusk sun.

Nocturnal creatures--large cats primarily, but each of them working their well-muscled bodies, hefting and sweating and grunting and lifting-it's exotic and enticing.

For a time, she was transported to a couple decades ago. Bob was a strong, broad-shouldered worker making enough to support two kids and a woman with a dream.

By the time they were nearly done, the tranquil air of the place was destroyed by the roar of a motorcycle. The slim figure riding it hops off and pulls off its helmet.

Golden fur flops out, revealing a coyote's face underneath. The newcomer looks over the new place, then directly faces Bertha.

"Hello, neighbor!" he says. "Caught your curious eye, have I? The name's Cody. Cody Rey!

"You're in high spirits," Bob says, pulling a pitcher of lemonade from the refrigerator.

Bertha cracks an egg to add to her mix, looking up at her husband. "Hm? I just want to ensure our new neighbor feels right at home."

"The coyote?" Bob chuckles, guzzling down his drink. He smacks his lips and slams the empty pitcher on the counter. "Okay, but don't get charmed by him."

"Oh, Bobby, why would you even say something like that?"

Bob scratches his chin, his eyes focused outside. "Uh, It's nothing. Gotta get to work."

"Bye, Mom"

"See ya, mom."

Bertha sighs as her kids head out, Billy to his college studies and Becca to her day job. They zoom on out of the development, leaving her, as usual, home alone. Alone with just herself and her thoughts of a dashing canine figure on a motorcycle, looking like one of those extraordinary leads in one of her novels.

"Better be careful with Becca," she says to herself. "Boy like that could gobble her up." She shudders at the implication, imagining the gobbling not on her daughter but on herself.

A husky voice calls out from the back when she heads out with her dessert baked and ready. "The gate's unlocked. Come on around. I'm doing garden work!"

Curious, the bovine finds the gate to the privacy fence and opens it, peering inside, gasping.

On the other side of the fence is the lithe figure of her new neighbor, dressed in workman's boots, sturdy jeans, and thick gardener's gloves, his naked chest and back rippling with muscles and splotched with dirt. He stomps on a shovel, digging up a particularly nasty weed, and hefts it with a display of machismo.

He takes the shovel to the ground and turns toward her, a smile on his face. The small splotches of grey on his muzzle show he is not relatively as young as she expected.

"So, the neighbor gives me a traditional welcoming pie. Homemade?" he asks.

"Y-yes." She holds it out. "I'm Bertha... Bertha Kine."

"I was wondering when I'd get a name after you ran back inside the other night," the Coyote says, removing his gloves and holding his hands out to her. They are solid but delicate.

"Oh, here you go. Mr. Rey." She says.

"I know it's cliche to say this," says the new neighbor, swirling a finger over the

topping. He brings his finger to his mouth, wrapping his lips around it and pulling the digit free. "But Mr. Rey was my father. You may call me Cody if you wish, Miss Kine."

"Mrs.," she says, almost out of obligation. "And you can call me Bertha if you want."

"It is a strong name for a strong woman, yes?" He says, "Come, let us take this inside.

"O-oh, yes, it is rather hot, isn't it?"

"Very," He says, a soft growl in his voice.

Soon, the two are inside, and Cody places the pie down, going to the refrigerator. "I hope you don't mind the boxes everywhere. I'm still figuring some things out."

"Oh, no worries. You should see my house!" Bertha says, pulling up a stool and sitting on it.

Cody brings out a carton of milk, placing it aside the pie. "Would you like to share?" he asks, scooting across from her.

"Oh no, thanks. I'm trying to watch my diet.

"Oh, but is that necessary?" he asks, pinching the carton open. "You look to be the very model of bovine beauty." He says this, tilting his head back and gulping down the milk. When he brings it away from his mouth, he leaves himself with a thick mustache.

She crosses her leg over the other. "That's very flattering, Mister, uh, Cody."

"Mister Cody?" He laughs. "That won't do, not from you, Bertha."

He smiles, placing his hand in front of hers on the table. "You seem like a hard-working woman, no? Yet you are all alone in your house. Why is this?"

"I kinda always wanted to see what it's like being the housewife," Bertha admits.

"In this economy? Your husband must be loaded."

"We are well off, enough to live here."

"This is true. I would not be out here if I could not afford such luxuries. But you have four vehicles. That means four living in your home?"

"That's right."

"Ah, yes, yes." He cuts the pie, placing a piece upon a plate. He forgoes silverware, taking a bite. A few moments of slow mastication and a swallow later, he continues. "This is magnificent. Are you a professional?"

"Me? Oh no! I mean, I did take some classes once upon a time. But, I'm more of a writer nowadays."

"Ah, of what variety?"

Bertha blushes. "W-well, nothing really published as of yet. I've been honing my craft while working on various odd jobs."

"Let me guess... you are making the next big mystery thriller."

She chuckles. "No, it's actually romance."

"Ah, amor. And you must be basing it off your experiences? The excitement in college? How you met that charming bull of a husband?"

She runs a hand through her hair. "N-not really, I--wait, 'charming'?"

"Yes, indeed. I can see why you would fall for such a big strong display of machismo."

"Oh, yes, he was certainly something else back in the day. He's been hit on rough times since, well...."

"Say no more. Life throws things at us that we must deal with. This is something the young do not understand, but we do. For instance, me? I had to pick up and leave home once I told my father I had feelings for men."

"Oh,"

"Oh?"

"I didn't know you were gay."

He smirks. "Does this disappoint you, Bertha?"

She blushes. "N-no! I mean, why would it?"

He moves his hand closer to hers, clasping her hand and bringing it to her lips. "One can appreciate their own gender and not be gay."

Bertha bites her lip, shuddering.

"I feel you know exactly what I mean. Have you a tale to tell? A woman of your beauty would charm man and woman alike."

Parting her lips a moment, Bertha closed them, gulped, and then spoke up. "Are you... charmed?"

"Si."

Bertha had excused herself from the Casa de Cody, her mind running at overdrive through the next couple of days. Though she goes on autopilot in her housewifely duties, she can't help but turn her attention over and over again to the strapping young man.

She wasn't sure how long it had been, nor was she sure where everyone was exactly, but one sweltering summer day, when she was outside tending to her garden, she wiped the sweat from her brow and paused when the sound of a delivery truck passing through broke her free from her reverie.

Peering over her fence, she sees all the cars, but hers were gone. And yes, Cody's motorcycle was in his driveway. With her heart fluttering and that tingle spreading deep within her core and all the way to her hoof tips, she heads to the porch and picks up the package.

Footsteps, quick and hard, catch her attention. She clutches the package close to her chest, her breath catching in her throat.

Cody.

The coyote again wears no shirt, though he has airy jogging shorts tight around his waist instead of worker's clothing. He slows down, fingers to his wrist, glancing up at her. Smiling, he waves.

"Checking me out, Bertha?" he calls.

Bertha stumbles, dropping her package.

In a flash, he's there, catching the box and holding it up to her.

So close, she can smell his maleness, his exertion.

Her tail swishes, practically dusting off her front step.

"It's customary to thank someone when they help you," Cody says, a slight growl in his voice. It isn't threatening, but it is, not in the way Bertha thought. In the way she feared.

She gulps, taking the package in her hands. Cody slides his fingers over hers, standing tall, looking into her eyes. You were excited to receive this. What is it?"

"O-oh, t-this? It's nothing, it's...."

She looks over his shoulder and back and forth down the street. "Follow me."

He whistles as she turns around, walking toward the backyard. She places the package down and fumbles around overalls. "I got something for this. Let me see..."

Punct! FWWWP!

A claw tears through the tape as Cody grunts that last bit of exertion, opening up the package. "Well, why would you show your neighbor these things, neighbor?" He asks, lifting up a piece of string by his finger. From it dangles a Holstein-spotted bikini. "I wonder whose size this is?"

She covers her face, which burns up even more than the rest of her body.

"And this thing," he says, taking the smaller box from within the larger box. "The Canine Cervix Crusher?" He tuts. "What will they think of next for these fake dicks."

Bertha spreads her fingers, revealing her eyes. She first sees the coyote's smile, his tongue running over his teeth.

"You know, Bertha, a woman of your physical perfection wouldn't have such need for these things, I think." He places the premium toy on the table and folds his arms over his chest. "Maybe you lured me in here for something nefarious." He tuts, wagging a finger.

"Me?

"Oh yes. Though it is okay," he says. "I understand. You have quite a beautiful life here with a handsome husband and family. Meanwhile, I'm all on my own," he says, opening his arms wide. "So easy to manipulate. You could tell your husband that I came to you."

"What? No!"

"No, so that is not your arousal I smell?" He says, stepping closer, sniffing multiple times, and getting right up toward her neck.

Bertha gasps, clutching her neck, shaking her head. "I-I'm sorry, you're right. This is wrong. I can't do this."

"Oh, but you can, and you planned to seduce me right here and now."

"You're seducing me!"

"Am I?" he gasps, placing a hand on his chest and fluttering his eyes. "I am shocked you think that way but flattered nonetheless." He pulls up a chair and sits on it, stroking his finger up and down along the package, glancing up toward her. "After all, you are my type. I have been hoping, waiting, dreaming for a perfect day to pour my attention all over you and see, no, experience, the bountiful goddess trapped within."

Seeing that sorrowful look upon him, Bertha sighs, and she reaches down for her overalls, unbuttoning one clasp and then the other, letting the pants fall to her ankles.

The coyote licks his lips, his free hand trailing to tap at his thigh, ready to pull the trigger.

"That's a good girl," Cody Rey says, the coyote sitting back on the lawn chair, dressed in his running trunks and shoes. He lifts the tiny Holstein-spotted bikini up, dangling from his claw. "Now, do you want to try on your new outfit?"

Bertha stands in her backyard, her overalls by her hooves, her lower body dressed only in her panties. The cow swallows, her whole body trembling. She steps one foot out and then the other, approaching her neighbor, clasping the scandalous garment in one hand. Her other hand rests upon the boxed sex toy she ordered, but Cody's hand squeezes her wrist, a soft growl rising up from his throat.

She pulls away, clutching the bikini, and rushes inside.

"I'm waiting," he says, pulling out his phone. "But who knows how long we have before someone in your family arrives."

Rushing to the bathroom, Bertha splashes herself with some water and stares herself in the face, seeing the wrinkles, spots, and puffiness that age has inflicted upon her. She thinks of Bob, frustrated at every romantic interest, burying himself deeper and deeper into work. She thinks of her children, no longer children, but adults living their own lives, no longer needing her. She thinks of herself, and for a moment, she sees herself as she once was all those years ago in college, and she grips the sink.

Cody sits with one leg crossed over the other, his cheek upon his knuckles, scrolling through his phone. He chuckles. Seems he'll have to miss his favorite vtuber's stream today. Unfortunate.

A plaintive "moo" from behind the curtains to the Kine's kitchen brings him out of his disappointment.

Placing his phone down, he steeples his fingertips, staring at the door. "Having stage fright, my dear?"

"I have... rules," comes the meek, motherly voice.

"Yes, we all do, don't we?" He chuckles, waving a hand. "I'll follow them."

"N... no recording."

"Of course," he says, shutting off his phone.

"If I say we stop, we stop."

"I would never break consent."

She takes a deep breath, and then, her hooves clopping out to the deck, she emerges.

Bertha had always been a hefty girl, though, in her younger years, it had been mostly muscle. Years of motherhood and being off the farm had made her bulk soft, making her a large and delicate beauty with many curves. Dressed now in the Holstein bikini, she appears almost naked before the coyote, every spot and splotch of her hide on display as they curve over her shapely form.

Cody stands, grabs the fencing of the deck, hefts himself over it, and lands on the wood, hunched over but standing tall immediately afterward. "That's a new addition," he says, flicking a cowbell hanging from a choker with his finger.

"Ahh! I already had it," she says, a bright blush filling her face.

"It's cute," he says. "You're cute."

"You think... I'm cute?"

"I know you're beautiful." He responds, stepping so close that Bertha can't tell where the sun's heat ends and his body's warmth begins.

"I have..." she sighs, closing her eyes, her fingers twitching. "One more rule."

He walks behind her now, his hot breath upon her neck, his hands wrapping around her but not touching her. That primal magnetism makes her shudder, her tail swishing, accidentally stroking a toned leg.

"And what might that be?" He asks, that growl reverberating against her ears. They flick almost as if to swat away an annoyance, but she cannot swat him away.

"I want..." she begins, her body so stiff.

"Yes?" he asks, fingers curling in, a subtle brush against her side, intentional or not. She cannot say.

"I want..."

"If I can give it to a beauty like you, I'll do it," he whispers.

"I want to be a mother again!"

There's a silence between them, where she only hears the chirping of birds and the occasional revving of a lawnmower from a long way off. In the distance, a rooster crows, his song carrying off from a farm miles away, a separate world from the surreal experience that Bertha now finds herself in.

"I'll be happy to try," he says, and immediately afterward, he gropes her breasts through the bikini, rolling his fingers along those large and soft and delicate mounds.

Bertha sighs, tilting her head back, pushing out her chest. "Aa... aaahhh?"

"How long has it been since you've been touched like this, Bertha?" he whispers, stepping closer as if that were possible, his muscular chest pressed against her back, the fur and fluff tickling her spotted hide.

"N... not f... for awhile," she says, stumbling forward, grasping onto the porch railing, staring at the immaculate yard beyond.

His fingers curl at the top, sneaking inside, claws gently scratching in a tantalizing tease. When they brush against her sensitive nipples, she can't help but yelp, grasping her snout with one hand, her other gripping the railing tighter.

"You ever made love with a predator before."

"Luh... love?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," He says, one hand moving up, grasping at her chin, tilting it upward. He leans over her, pressing his weight against her, his shorts barely hiding behind the canine bulge. "What I meant to ask is if you've ever been fucked by someone higher on the food chain before?"

"N... not like... this." She admits.

He chuckles, his hand leaving her breast, letting it flop from her top. He strokes downward, over her side, up and down her thigh, and to her back. He grabs the base of her tail, pulling his hand up along that long, swishy thing. "To properly breed you takes lots and lots of sperm. This won't be a one-time thing."

Her arms wobble, her lip quivering. "I... I hope... you're right," she says, a smile curling up.

Bertha Kine finds herself grasping the railing of her deck, the hot sun beating down on her naked back. Behind her, her furry and hot coyote neighbor strokes his hand up and down along her side, teasing her as his hand holds tight to her tail, making it almost like a leash.

"Such a naughty girl you are, Bertha," he teases. "Do you even think about what you'll do when you start to show?

"M... muhaybe... I'll, I'll bottle my milk."

He chuckles,' Oh, ho, such priorities," he says, hand slipping up to pinch at her nipple.

She gasps, "Aah!?"

He growls, "Such a woman who doesn't care about what her desires will do for herself or her family-this I can get behind. I have gotten behind it."

"M... mother hood... is all I crave!"

"Oh, I know, I know, dear Bertha," Cody coos, slipping away from her breast.

Bertha whimpers.

"And I'll give you motherhood because a fine creature with your hips, thighs, and breasts..." he breathes in, making her ear twitch, "needs to have what she wants."

"Wuh... what do you want... C... Cody?"

"Bertha," He says, placing his hand upon his heart. "I'm surprised you'd think so little of me. I'm helping you betray your husband for a new child. What else can I expect but to see you happy and to get my dick nice and wet." He says this, slapping a paw upon her rump, squeezing her thick hips, hooking a finger over her spotted bottom, and pulling it aside.

"Please... d... don't say things like that."

"Oh, but it's true. I've seen it many times before," the Coyote says, squatting down before Bertha. "It is your animal instincts to be a mother until your children are weened. The thing is, when you have a lover who appreciates every fold and every fluid, you have no need for weening.

"Are you saying you'll, aah!"

His tongue presses up against her sex, pressing hard, lashing upwards, flicking and fluttering back into his maw. "Simply delicious. You are primed for breeding. But of course, you knew that." He says, stepping back. "Onto the grass."

"H-huh?"

"If I'm going to fuck you like an animal, we should do it in some place natural, no?"

Bertha bites her lip and releases her gasp on the wooden railing. Small indentations remain where her hoof tips bury into the wood. She turns for the stairs, only for Cody to grab her bottoms and yank them down her thighs!

Bertha's bell jingles and her breasts wobble as she clasps her legs to stop herself from falling. "W-what. You want me to be-ah-an animal!?"

With a tug, he yanks off the top, tossing it aside. "I'm going to be, too, you know. Best way to impregnate you, after all."

Bertha shudders, that feeling shooting up her back as her hands move down her body of their own accord, hooking under her those bottoms. She steps out of them, one at a time, clopping down heavily one hoof in front of the other. She holds the last piece of covering she wore in her hand, watching it, not registering her nakedness until she hears the shuffling of fabric behind her.

"Better get comfortable, Bertha," Cody growls, "Because once I'm out of this, we are no longer neighbors. We are animals, doing what animals do."

She tosses the outfit aside, rushing down the stairs, her cowbell clattering. Once on the final step, she falls forward, landing on her hands and knees, the soft grass and earth giving way to her weight, staining her body.

And his words echo through her mind while she sits there, basking in the hot sun. "What... animals do?"

She gulps, gripping the ground before her, feeling that warmed-up earth between her fingers, and she lowers her head, pressing her snout to the freshly cut grass.

Slowly, she chews, and the feeling takes her back to a bygone understanding. Is this what she's supposed to be? No responsibilities, enjoying nature and frolicking in the field.

Cody laughs, but that is the last intelligent thing that she hears. A moment later, he leaps upon her, his arms awkwardly around her sides, groping at her tits. His cock, something she had never seen before, presses up to her folds, its tapered tip rubbing against her wanting and puffy flesh.

She coughs up her grassy snack, moaning, no, mooing at the signs of delight that shoot up in her mind. She was actually doing this. How could she? Why could she?

How could she not?

The thing that was Cody growls and pants into her ear, his hips thrusting forward, and finally, for real, he penetrates her.

All thoughts leave the cow's mind. There is only the sensation of a foreign cock delving itself deep into her with the express purpose of breeding her. It batters down all of her logical thought. It breaks down the conventions of society. This was her body, a body made specifically for this delight. It is a body that will bring life to a new being after this act of deceit and pleasure.

Cody's strong and quick thrusts have no real finesse to him. His mind must be equally empty as hers, but each thrust pushes her forward, his weight not so much to fight against her own strength. She stays on her hands and knees, taking it, rocking forward, her tits bouncing, and her bell ringing.

And through the running of motors and the soft smell of grills, the loud lulling of a cow fills the air, telling the whole world that she is an animal and has fallen to animal desire.

And she fucking loves it.

Who knows how long the two were there on the ground, their bodies sweating in the hot summer sun, thrusting into one another and letting the simple rubbing stimulate the pleasure in their mind? Bertha lost track of the beginning of the ordeal, her vision turning hazy, her breath loud and filled with grunting groans as she gripped the grass beneath her, taking big clumps of dirt into her hands.

"Mmmm.... M.....uuuh.....! AAAAH!"

Cody, meanwhile, thrusts away into her, his hips slapping against her shapely butt, his hands gripping hard upon those fantastic tits, delightfully clinging into handfuls he can roll around in his fingers.

But all things must end, and throwing his head back and raising his head high into the air, Cody howls, his hips locked against Bertha, sending warm and hot shots deep inside the cow's womb!

Bertha falls, her body convulsing in uninhibited glee. She grunts and pants and soon pushes herself up, drool dripping down her chin, spit mixed with grass as the warmth of the weather mingles with a chill that fills her soul.

"W... what did I... do?"

Cody picks her up, tipping her over until she rolls onto her back. He falls atop her, squishing their bodies together, losing her body in her soft body. He clasps her cheeks, staring into her eyes.

"Muh... my family... Bob?"

"Your children have their mother, and Bob cannot give you what you desire."

"I shouldn't have... done this behind his back."

He presses a tongue to her neck and tilts her head, gasping, clasping her hands behind him. He snickers, whispering into her ear. You should have thought about that, yes? I'm sure someone heard, and the gossip will flow soon."

Bertha kicks and scrambles from underneath him, climbing up to her feet. She covers herself up for the first time all day, blushing deeply, her tail swishing between her legs. "Y... you came inside me!"

Cody stands so confident in his nakedness. "Indeed I did. And in nine months, you shall feed a new calf with your mother's milk, all things hopeful."

"I... you're right..." she says, gulping. "That's... that's something no one can give me but myself, right?"

"Your words, my beauty," he says, shaking his head.

"He's going to know, sooner or later."

"What will you tell him?"

"Me?"

"Yes, you," Cody says, slipping his trunks back on. "It is your life and your responsibility. Don't ruin a good time with such concerns. You shall be fine. Besides," He places a hand upon her head, lacing through her hair. "There is nothing to worry about, actually. Trust me. Oh, what's this?" He hops onto the deck and picks up her phone, tossing it to her. "Catch!"

She fumbles with it a bit, accepting the call without even catching who it is. Naked on the ground and afraid for her livelihood, she responds to a mysterious caller on the other end.

"Hey, Babe."

"B... Bob?" Her voice trembles.

"You didn't make anything for dinner, did ya?"

"Oh shit, sorry, no."

"Hey, hey, it's fine. It actually works out. I can pick you up, and we can go to Francisco's. My treat."

"Bob, I don't know... if I feel."

Cody waves his hand and then gives her the thumbs up.

"I mean, 'yes,' that sounds nice. I'd be happy to."

"Are you alright, babe?"

"No, I mean. Yes, I'm just happy to hear from you. I was thinking... about that fight the other day, and, and I'm sorry and-."

"Hey, don't worry about that. I'll make it up to you tonight, I promise. I love you."

"Love you... too," she sighs, ending the call.

Cody squats down before her, pressing a finger to her chin. "Bertha, Bertha, you are a wonderful woman. You need not feel bad about feeling good about yourself. In fact, you should clean yourself up and get ready for your date. I'll head home now, don't you worry." With that, he kisses her on the shoulder and hops over the fence to his backyard.

As the coyote approaches his door, he watches a car pull up the driveway. In it, Billy watches the coyote, immediately turns his head away, grabs his bookbag, and gets out the door.

"Good afternoon, neighbor," the coyote says, leaning over the fence. "Lovely weather, is it? Little hot for long pants, no?"

Billy stops, taking a deep breath.

"Something the matter, young lady?"

"Ah?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I get that wrong? It's hard to tell from all the way over here. I haven't had the opportunity to meet you yet.

Billy grips his bookbag, takes a breath, and marches toward the neighbor.

"Uh, sup?"

"Not much," Cody shrugs, smirking. "Just finished some rigorous exercise."

Billy's nose wrinkles a bit. "Exercise? Dude is that, no, nothing."

"Oh my, did you catch me doing something I shouldn't? I am so embarrassed."

"Huh? What? No! It's cool." Billy says, running a hand through his messy hair. "I'd, like, jerk off in my backyard if I lived alone."

"So forward," the coyote says. "Not at all what I was expecting out of a 'hello'. I do like that in a cute guy, actually, if you don't mind me calling you that."

Billy gulps and shakes his head. "I, uh, no, that's... that's cool. Uh. I just got home, s-so, I need to check in with the folks."

"Of course,"

"But can we talk later, uh, online?"

Cody pulls out his phone.

"Bertha, you seem tense."

"Hm?"

Bertha focuses on Bob, the giant bull sitting across from her, making the table seem small. She strokes her finger across the tablecloth, shrugging. "My mind has been fried."

"I feel that," Bob says, hunching over, tapping the butt of his fork against his glass.

In the distance, a baby cries, and its mother holds it, shushing and cradling the precious package.

Bertha places a hand upon her stomach, and the thought of Cody's hot breath on her neck, his canine cock inside her, flickers.

"Berth-?"

"Welcome to Fransico's this evening!" says the canine server, a young man dressed nicely. He smiles at each of the diners.

"Bob..." Bertha speaks up. "Bob?"

Bob takes his eyes off the waiter and picks up the menu. "Uh, yeah, ranch-style salad for me. High on alfalfa and a bottle of Kvass for the two of us."

"I'll, uh, have the same thing," Bertha says, her eyes returning to the family, the mother holding her baby close.

"Coming right up, you two," the waiter says, twirling around and walking away with a spring in his step.

"How do you think they make guys that thin?" Bob says, twirling his beard hair in contemplation."

"I'm going mad, Bob."

"Huh?"

Bertha turns to him, smiling softly. She reaches out a leg, stroking his leg with her hoof. "I can't stand not having a baby."

"Yeah, uh, how's that going?" he asks.

She moos gently. "What do you mean?"

"Oh wait, no, I got the report back. It, uh, it's not gonna happen."

The two sit there in silence, their drink arriving, neither taking a sip.

The bull takes a breath.

Bertha sighs.

"There's something about Cody."

"I need to tell you about Cody."

They spoke together. The bull bites his lip.

Bertha shakes her head. "It's my fault."

"N-no, don't say that." He reaches out, placing a hand on hers. "It's my fault. I wasn't strong enough. I couldn't do what I needed for you."

Bertha blots her eyes with a napkin, burying her head in one hand. "I should have been stronger for you. I should have talked to you!"

It's my fault. I... I never told you. I've been feeling this way for years. You know how your family is, and I never knew you could be so open.

Bertha spreads her fingers, peering out through one eye. "Are we... talking about the same thing?"

He blinked. "Aren't we?"

They stare at each other, searching into each other's eyes before Bertha takes her glass and downs it, slamming it on the table. "Okay, then... on three, Bob, and you better not be fucking with me. We say what's on our mind. Here and now.

"R-right," Bob says, adjusting his collar. He puffs out his chest while Bertha motions the numbers. Once she closes her fist, it's done.

Their voices ring in unison. "I slept with Cody. The fuck!?"

--

Laying in his bed, Billy scrolls on his phone. He's dressed jdown to his boxers, laying in his fuzzy and spotted self, a hand resting upon his stomach, and watching the read receipt on his phone.

Ellipses appear.

The young bull scoots back against the headboard, his hand sliding down over his stomach.

"You really are a curious cow, aren't you?" came the reply.

Billy furrows his brow, typing.

Billy: You know, a cow is female cattle. Technically, I'm a bull.

Cody: "Technically?" Okay, but what about the curious part?

Billy: Yeah, I am curious..

Billy: Why the quotes?

Cody: People can be what they want. You don't write so enthused.

Billy: I'm not trans.

Cody: I never mentioned that.

Cody: But you seem to have thought about it..

Billy: We're not talking about me. We're talking about you.

Cody: Yeah? And what about me, Curious Cow?

Billy huffs, but he picks up, walking toward the window. He peers through the blinds, seeing the light in Cody's house piercing through the darkness. He can see the outline of the canine form lounging back.

"Shit!" He scrambles, dropping his phone, falling to the floor, his phone falling face up, where he can see his surprised expression and Cody's smug one.

"Well, now, you are curious," Cody growls.

Billy's heart thumps. His throat goes dry. He reaches a trembling hand up toward his phone. "S-sorry, miscall."

"You wanna end our conversation already?"

Billy pauses, scrunching up his mouth. "W-well, I don't know what to say."

"Anything you want, curious," Cody says, scratching his chest.

Billy gulps down a big cud of nothing, scooping up his phone in his hands, the light reflecting off his glasses. "W-well, okay. C-could you zoom out a little?"

"Sure," Cody responds, holding his phone out. He flashes a V and tilts his head. "You mirin'?

"A-a little."

"Heh, I getcha. I work hard to look this good. I do like to show off."

"Wish I could."

"You totally can. That messy hair of yours. Your fluffiness. You could be the sexiest beast in town if you put your mind to it."

"Huh? But I'm so weak."

"It ain't about strength. It's about what you have. Look at me, I'm a wiry fuck, but I tone myself up and grow out my fluff a bit to not look like a stick. You gotta find out what you like and go with it. What do you not like about yourself."

"I guess I look... kinda girly?"

"And you hate that?"

"Well. I don't think anyone would like it."

Cody's snout turns up to a soft smirk. "And who on this wonderful earth ever said that?"

The drive home is quiet, with Bob's hands firmly on the wheel. His jaw is clenched tight as the highway lights pass him by one at a time like a hypnotic pattern of judging eyes.

Bertha sits with her hands firmly clasped at her purse, her eyes down at the dashboard, as quiet as her husband. All this time, she harbored resentment for herself for cheating on Bob when things were much stranger.

"So,"

They both speak at once but pull back.

"I just,"

"No, you first."

Bob clears his throat. "How are you feeling?"

"Me?" Bertha gasps, her hand clutching her chest. "I felt like my world is crumbling apart. I found out you also pulled a cornerstone out while crumbling! Bob, what is this? What did we do?"

She continues, "We... cheated on each other with our hot next-door neighbor? I... I never thought you were gay and--"

"Now, hold on a minute!' he says, turning off the exit. "Ain't no one said I was gay."

"Were you on the bottom?"

"What?"

"How'd it go?"

He beats his thumbs on the wheel, pulling off to a gas station and parking in the darkest corner. Pulling his keys out, he looks at her. "You tell me first."

"What?"

"How'd it go with him? What'd you do? How'd it feel?"

Bertha opened her mouth and closed it, gulping like a fish. "It was... It was primal--animalistic, like nothing I ever had before. You?"

He squeezes the wheel, thumping his hoof on the floor. "Damn it all, Bertha! That man made me realize things about myself I never knew before!"

"Such as?"

He snorts. "Fuck, you want a story?"

She places a hand on his thigh, sliding it upward. "I'll go into detail, if you will."

His pants ache as she strokes his leg, and snorting, he turns and grumbles, "The bedroom, that's where we'll discuss things."

"The kids will be home."

He narrows his eyes. "Fine, Makeout Point it is."

--

The truck shakes and wobbles, creaking with a metallic groan under the weight of two bodies. The bed is the perfect spot for a couple lovers to find their place among the stars. Bob sits up, his shirt unbuttoned, his belt unbuckled. While he's still a strong man, he has a bit of a gut at his age that flops out when freed. Underneath, his dick is as stiff and tall as it always had been, even on their first high school foray at Makeout Point.

Bertha lays under him, her dress hitched up and bunched down, wrapping around her stomach and letting her tits lay flat against her body. She spreads her legs, her hands running up to her hair, hefting her hips forward.

Bob leans in, picking her up by her butt, sliding his cock against her wanting pussy. "There... there ain't nothing like you, dear," Bob says as he leans in, pressing his mouth to hers.

Bertha returns the kiss, gripping his horns, her soft moo rising from their throats. When they pull back, he pushes inside her, and she lets out a loud, gasping groan.

"Can't believe," he grunts, pushing into her, feeling her wrap around her, "That you fucked... in our backyard!" He says. "And you... ate the lawn?"

"I... ah... I was a cow... in a field... han... and you?"

He snickers, rolling his shirt off his shoulders, grabbing her by the back of the head, and pulling her in for another kiss, their bodies pressed together. "Fuck... it was... surreal, but it felt good. Not as good as real pussy, though. From the best gal ever."

She wraps her legs around him. "I want my baby to be yours, Bob. Obliterate his sperm!"

"But, the doctor"

"Fuck the doctor!"

"I don't find him hot."

"Shut up, you!"

He presses his tongue to her neck. She turns and tilts herself to let him taste her salty hide, shuddering as he holds her close, squishing them together.

Their heartbeats are as one. Two lovers together through thick and thin, opening up to one another in ways that neither of them would ever expect before.

"W-what do you wanna, mmmngh, do about him?" Bob says.

"H... nggh..?" Bertha moans, biting her lip, holding his horns. She thrusts, riding that pole on top of her, sliding it deeper and deeper into her.

"Gah, fuck!" He grabs the rim of his truck, shaking his head. "I much... mean... s-should we, nngh, do like a, gah! Three-way?"

"A... and I thought our first three-way would involve a lady."

"That's an option!?"

She responds with another kiss, sliding her tongue deep into his mouth. He rolls his eyes back beneath his messy mop of hair and picks her up, sitting tall and strong as he lets her ride on her. The truck bends and creaks under their weight, their manic thrusts filling the night sky.

And Bob's cock is so familiar and so solid and sturdy. And Bertha's pussy is like a return to home, made just for him, letting him slide in and out quickly while still gripping him tightly. The two can go at it with abandon while retaining their senses, remaining who they are, and not letting anything bother them.

Warm hotness spreads deep inside her as it exits him, making the male groan and fall back against the bed, sprawled out, while she tilts her head back and lets the rays of the moon bathe her in some glorious ritual.

It's magical, magic that neither had let themselves think about for a long, long time.

And she realizes that they both have their new neighbor to thank for this experience.

"I think," she says, "we should talk to Cody," she says, sitting on top of Bob, rubbing his chest.

"Fuck... if this ain't a dream come true," he says.

"You still have to give me every lurid detail.

He groans and thumps his head on the bed. "Fine, fine! Damn it, woman!" he laughs, a complete, belly-jiggling laugh he had been holding in.

"Ah, so the jig is up, so they say," Cody says, standing in his doorway, dressed in a house robe. "I thought the two of you would take longer to figure out. I was double dipping into the bovine wonderland that is the Kine household.

On the bright and sunny morning, Bertha and Bob stand hand-in-hand, the wife carrying a freshly baked pie and the husband a six-pack of beer. Both stare dumbfounded at the coyote, who smirks and steps aside. "Why don't the two of you come inside? Both men here have already, after all."

They follow him, entering into the pragmatic room of a man living on his own, entertaining guests with the simplest, but not drab, furniture and decorated with cases containing various awards and trophies and photographs.

"Didn't expect me to get the jump on you two, did you? Or did you not tell each other that you've been fucking your neighbor?"

"N-no, it's not that!" Bertha finally blurts out. "Well, I'm not sure what to say now."

"Don't you?" Cody asks, sitting on a comfortably cushioned chair. He motions to the loveseat beside him. "I'm sure you can think of something you want to say."

"Why did you do this behind our backs?" Bob asks, pulling his wife down with him. "Why not come to us together and ask if we wanted to be in an open marriage."

Cody shrugs. "It's not fun for me. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Yes!" Bertha blurts out. "It's inconsiderate, disrespectful, and you could have ruined our family."

"Maybe, but I never said I was a nice guy, did I?" He says, resting his cheek upon his knuckles. "All I did was get you to give in to your desires you could never give voice to. Bertha and your desire for motherhood at all costs, Bob," He chuckles. "Well, who could forget that fun excursion of ours?"

Bob grips his knees, trembling.

--

Bob slid his mower back into the garage after a long day of cutting the grass, the sweat building up on the bull's body, licking his lips and imagining his wife's lemonade.

But the memory of the fight is too heavy on his heart. "Damn it, pecker. If only you fuckin' worked right."

"Howdy, neighbor!"

Bob jumped back, clutching his chest as he wheeled around to see the grinning coyote hanging out on the fence separating their properties. "Oh no, don't mind me. Keep talking to your dick."

"What do you want?" Bob grunts.

The coyote dangles a six-pack on one finger, raising his eyebrows. "Let's get this neighbor thing started right."

"Eh, why the hell not," Bob shrugs. I'll come right over."

Several cans later, the two sit on the back porch, staring at the stars.

"Beautiful fucking home you have here," Cody says, "Far enough away from the city that the night sky is not a haze, yet civilized enough you don't get ignorant tryhards everywhere."

Bob hiccups. "Ignorant? 'bout what?"

Cody scoffs. "Ugh, back in the middle of ass end nowhere where I come from, people hated me once I came out. Family hated me because I wasn't straight. The local alliance thought me a faker 'cause I'm bi."

"No, no, I'm cool with it. My wife's bi, actually," Bob says.

"No kidding. Well, that's some good news. How do you make it work? Are you ever, you know, jealous of lads and ladies catching her eye?"

Bob frowns, flicking the tab of his last beer. "Sometimes, it can be a little weird, I guess. She's a good wife... but she can be so hard to work with sometimes! Gah, this baby thing. She really wants a kid, and I can't... I can hardly get it up anymore, let alone shoot things that ain't blanks. And then a hot new neighbor moves in."

"It is a curse to be this hot," Cody says, stroking his chest and fluttering his eyes.

"Huh? Oh, no, I didn't mean..."

"It's okay, Bob if you mean things. I won't judge.

Bob sighs, rolling his shoulders. "Sometimes, I see the way some younger guys are now. All are skinny with their bubble butts. Before the accident, I would go to the gym, and some of them would make goo-goo eyes at me, and I'd go into the shower with the biggest chub."

"Something like this?" The coyote says, leaning in, batting his lashes.

Gods, they are so thick, and his eyes sparkle.

"Buh..."

"And their butts, they are like this?" He stands up, spinning around, his hand on his knees, his tail swishing.

"Yeah, they're, uh, kinda like that..."

"You ever wish you'd do anything in the gym? Like a locker room fantasy?"

Bob sips his beer. "Uhh, what do you mean?'

"You know, walk up to one of those twinkly guys, slam his face against the shower wall, and just shove your fat cock right in his bussy?"

"What? N-no. Of course not! That's-"

"Even if he asked?"

Bob sips. "Heh, I don't know if I could now, even if I wanted to. The old cock doesn't work as well as it used to and...."

"Does it?" Cody asks, a smirk spreading over his muzzle.

Bob gulped, having not noticed the tightness that had been forming in his pants. He squeezes the can, denting it, shaking his head. "W... what's."

"You like what you see and what I'm offering, don't you?"

"Well, that's..., it's like, and you are."

"Willing and eager to see what you got, Bob. Or would you rather me call you "Mr. Kine? Bobby? Robert? Daddy?"

"Fuck"

"Oh ho ho."

Bob runs a hand through his messy hair, snorting. "I..."

"Let me see it," Cody whispers. "This broken-ass stupid pecker of yours."

Pausing a moment, the bull stands up and reaches for his belt. "Fine, but only to wipe that smug look off your face, boy!"

"Of course, Bobby dear, wipe it all off."

Bob drops his trousers right there on Cody's patio, and his cock flops out from its hiding place, exposed to the warm summer night.

Cody falls immediately to his knees, the coyote caressing the bull by the balls, running a finger down the shaft's underside. "Well, well, look at this man," he growls. "He looks happy to see me, don't you think?"

"Just so you know," Bob says, grunting, "I'm the man around here."

"Oh, but of course you are," Cody says, rolling fingers over his balls, playing with them as his fingers play at the head. "You're a big strong man who could probably bend me over and fuck my tight little bi-ass whenever he wanted."

"Let's not go that far."

"Farther than me worshiping your cock?" The coyote says, nuzzling against the thing, rubbing his snout along the length, taking in a whiff.

"Dude, that's...."

"What? Weird? And when Bertha does it?"

"She, uh, isn't too much into oral."

"Shame," Cody says, sticking out his tongue. Quickly, he flicks at the tip, swirls, and pulls his tongue back in, "Because I'm totally down." His voice comes up like a husky growl, his eyes fluttering. His hand strokes up and down that shaft.

"D... damn it!" Bob grunts, placing a hand on Cody's head. "If you're gonna suck my cock, why don't you do it already?"

"Waiting on my big dad bod buddy to take the lea-aggh!"

Bob pushes Cody forward, pressing his mouth to the shaft, sinking deep into that maw. Cody's eyes roll back, and his tongue lashes up and down that thick, girthy member. Soon, he's grabbing Bob by the ass, bobbing along the shaft, twisting his head left and right, licking and lapping over that beefy meat, leaving no part of his musky mast unlathered in saliva.

But all things must end, and Cody pulls his mouth free, a trail of fluid stringing between the tip of Bob's pecker and the coyote's mouth. He licks up the strand, sucking what he can back into his mouth and gulping, stroking his hands over his chest. "Simply wonderful."

"You're a real slut," Bob grunts.

"Why, thank you," Cody says, standing up. He tosses off his shirt swiftly and steps out of his pants in another. He has nothing on underneath, and his erect canine dick stands tall and red before the bull. He spins around, bending down, hands upon his cheeks and spreading. "Want to see a magic trick, Mister Kine?"

Bob grips the arms of his chair, his eyes unable to take away from the bottom energy displayed by the coyote. It's almost hard to believe that the two of them were sharing beers one minute, and the next, he's got the mentality of a college co-ed."

But before Bob can even make sense of his situation, Cody lowers himself down, letting his cheeks rub up against that slickened shaft.

Bob snaps back to it, reaching up and holding onto the coyote's shoulder.

"Help me guide it in," Cody says, "It'll be safer for both of us that way."

"Why don't you, nff, face me?"

"I don't want to make a mess on ya before you go home."

With that, Cody lowers down, and Bob grabs his shaft, keeping it steady as the coyote lowers himself onto it. The head presses against the hole hidden between his cheeks, and the coyote huffs, nodding. "Just thrust a little... get it in there, and aaah!"

Bob pushes forward, his head popping into that hole, and a gasp rises from the bull. "I... I ain't felt nothin' t-this tight."

"Oh, Bob," Cody says, looking over his shoulder, fluttering his eyes. "You'll feel so much more when we're done with each other.

--

"I hadn't come so hard in a long, long time," Bob says, trembling.

"Oh, it ain't about the cumming," says Cody, handing Bob and Bertha some tea. "It's about the experience in its totality. But I'm sure the two of you are quite mad at me for almost ruining your marriage. Goodness knows you probably want to get revenge against me." He licks his lips. "Maybe you'll find a way to treat me like the bad boy that I am."

Bob is the first to speak up. "We want you to help us."

"Oh?"

Bertha places a hand on Bob's shoulder. I think that's only fair."

"Oh, of course," Cody says, sipping his tea. "Seems more than fair to me.

"So, when are we gonna do this?" Bob asks.

"Not today. I have plans. You sprung this on me so suddenly, but I'm sure the two of you can handle things with each other quite nicely."

The couple opens their mouth to say something, but the dulcet jazz saxophone tones rise from Cody's pocket. "Ah, and speaking of which, I must bid you adieu!"

With a suave motion, he steps out of the room, leaving the two cows to see themselves out of the room. They don't see the grin spreading across Cody's face. "So, you're in the store right now?"

The response is a picture showing a timid but smiling college-aged bull standing in front of a dressing room mirror, dressed in long socks and a skirt with a tanktop.

"How do I look?" Asks Billy.

"Now, that's a cowboy I can appreciate," Cody says, swiping to his stream app, where his new favorite Vtuber is about to start a game. "Three down, one to go."