This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.
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A Milky Present
Sometimes the temptation is just a little bit too great.
The white wolf blinked awake and sat upright, her lovers slumbering beside her. The digital clock with glowing, blue digits on the nightstand called the hour not even midnight on the eve of Christmas, but she could not rest. Alas, sleep was not always something that came easily to Yinx with one thought after the other racing through her mind at the worst times, leaving her tired through the day and aching for the bliss of rest that never quite seemed to be enough.
Slipping from the bed with the stealth of a robber, she held her breath as the mattress creaked – a massive one that allowed all three of them to sleep comfortably, expensive but oh so very worth it – Yinx held her paws to her chest, an oversized T-shirt serving as her sleepwear. Although her mouse rolled over, neither of her lovers rose and she exhaled slowly, tiptoeing from the bedroom on hind paws that fell with the lightness of a downy feather.
Once out, the wolf trotted down the stairs two at a time, tongue lolling out happily as her lips stretched into a languid grin. One, two, three – jump to avoid the creaky one – and she sticks the landing! Laughing softly at herself, she bounced into the living room, bare paws trotting from floorboards to carpet; she sighed as her toes sank into the plush surface and relished in wriggling them, short claws catching slightly in the fibres.
The Christmas tree beckoned in the corner, still lit up with a myriad of lights, all draped haphazardly and yet lovingly over its branches, tinsel and baubles strewn up as if in a fit of delirium. It wasn’t standard and yet it was perfect and what was even more perfect was the pile of presents stacked beneath its spread branches. Wrapped up in brightly coloured, childishly pleasing paper, they sang a song of days gone by and times in life that were awkward and joyful: family Christmases that were both longed for and yet endured at the same time.
As much of a tradition as anything else, Christmas had never been destined to be a perfectly smooth and tranquil time of year, but she pushed the thought from her mind. No time for that! In the still of the night, the time was hers and, irrefutably, hers alone.
The Christmas tree lights twinkled off the pink of her ears and she chuckled lightly to herself as she sprung across the carpet, wolfish glee taking over. Who was there to see her? And what sense of decorum did she have to keep when she was alone?
None at all, of course!
And that was liberating too sometimes. They’d scold her, the mouse and dragon, the next morning for being too eager to open her presents, but a little childish joy never did anyone any harm. Plopping down onto her knees, she shimmied the mauve, faded T-shirt up her thighs some and reached for one wrapped in pink paper. Not usually one she would have gone for, it had clearly been wrapped by someone who saw it as a chore, but her scrawled name on the side lured her in. Her pulse fluttered at the side of her throat and the wolf’s lips parted, the tip of her tail wagging ever so gently back and forth. It didn’t have a sender marked on it and there was no way it had come from either of her sweet-hearted lovers. If they didn’t pay for someone else to pack their gifts for them, their attempt at an idealistic sense of neatness would have been sharply evident!
Just the one. One wouldn’t do any harm.
With one glance back at the still open living room door, she dug one short claw into the paper, tearing it open with that satisfying rip. She made short work of the wrapping, tail wagging nineteen to the dozen as she shoved it aside to reveal… What, exactly? Something pink and translucent fell out; a clear container that looked like it perhaps could have belonged in the kitchen, at a stretch, dropping softly to the side.
It took her a moment, but, when that moment came, her eyebrows shot up.
“A…” She spoke aloud, forgetting that she was on her own with no one to hear her. “A breast pump? What?”
Shaking her head – the words hadn’t helped her make any sense of the item and why it was there – she turned it over in her paws, inspecting the container that would contain milk if the pump was used correctly. Her brow furrowed. Was someone trying to hint at something? She certainly wasn’t blooming lactating?
Although… She held it up to her chest, fitting the cups over her breasts through the thin fabric of the T-shirt. Wasn’t it something used in kinky play too? Something that was supposed to…you know…feel pretty good? Her cheeks heated up beneath her fur and she pressed the back of her palm to them, wiling her blush to fade. Yinx licked her lips.
As with opening the gift itself… A quick test run surely couldn’t hurt.
Yanking her T-shirt off up over her head, she giggled as a wicked thrill ran through her. It was good not to stick to the straight and narrow and, oh, life had been so busy that it had been on that damn straight and narrow for far too long! The cups fit over her breasts as if the “toy” had been designed specifically from her and she tossed the thought of the lack of sender out the window entirely, holding them in place until she could flip the suction on.
And that did it. Fingers lightly touching the cups, she groaned and sat back, her shoulders finding the support of the armchair as she panted and let the cups do their work. It would have been strange to describe the suction as pleasurable if anyone had asked her, in that very moment, to put the sensation to words, but the way that the cups nestled against the soft fur of her breasts was utterly…
She groaned deep in the back of her throat. Sensual. Yes, that was what it was! She couldn’t have imagined it being so for anyone actually using the pump for its intended purpose, but, oh…
The wolf’s head rolled from shoulder to shoulder and she slumped, tongue hanging out as her breathing deepened, T-shirt scrunched up beneath her backside. It would have taken too long to sort it, however, and she wriggled with a low moan as she adjusted her position the best she could without disrupting her new favourite toy. Yinx huffed and fanned her muzzle with one paw, not even trying to hide the heat rising to her cheeks, eyes happily glazed over. The lights on the tree twinkled. Who could have thought that a breast massage would feel so good!
However, that was not all that the pump did. As she arched her back into the sensation, arms trembling with the effort it took to support herself. Wide-eyed, she yelped as the cups suddenly gleamed with a trickle of milk – her milk – as it spilt through the short, narrow tube and into the container. As if it was trying to gain her attention, it sloshed lightly in the base, the lights glancing off it as drop after drop followed the first trickle. And, in the drawing of milk from her through anything but magical means, the tickling, teasing pleasure tripled, sending a shudder through her body.
Well, well, well… She moaned, the pulsing pleasure of the pump suddenly making more sense in her mind. Someone with influence clearly liked her!
It shouldn’t have been so and yet she couldn’t find it in herself to question the logistics of how or why she was suddenly able to lactate, happy to allow the pump to draw drop after drop of milk from her perky nipples. Much slower than she would have ever expected a pump to work, it dragged out the waves of pleasure, the tingling warmth rippling through her down to her crotch. Yinx swallowed hard, although there was suddenly a lack of moisture in her mouth, and half-closed her eyes, a paw slipping between her legs and into her panties – comfortable and yet shaped to the curve of her buttocks – to tease that delight to a crescendo.
Her ears flicked, catching the soft whirr of the pump as it worked its magic. Sweat matted the fur down her sides and she let out a whine, clapping her free paw over her muzzle as she tipped her torso back, letting the suction of the pump keep it in place along with the angle of her body. It was in no danger of slipping, however, as her finger brushed the side of the small, wickedly delightful machine and dialled it up a notch.
More. The wolf whimpered and groaned, bucking her hips up against her own paw as the machine buzzed, vibrating slightly as it worked overtime, feeling as if it was pulling and tugging at her breasts while drawing more and more milk from her. Although she could have stopped it at any point, the pressure almost, very nearly, too much to bear at certain points, she dug the fingers of her free paw into the carpet and willed herself not to yank it away, eyes closed and head tipped back onto the seat of the chair.
It was too good to stop. Almost too much sensation, overpowering in its intensity, and yet still so good.
Groaning, Yinx rocked her hips up to her paw, moans and vocalisations of her pleasure growing in pitch and frequency as that cord of tightness in the pit of her stomach drew tauter and tauter by the second. Her fingers worked, but, in all honesty, she warranted that she could have done with the pump milking her so wonderfully alone. Pushing her fingers up inside her hot, dripping passage gave her welcome distraction – a respite of sorts – and even the stiffness of her shoulder blades thrust back into the unyielding furniture allowed her to keep hold of herself just enough to not forget who she was or where she was entirely.
It was close though. Very close.
Despite a bitter winter gripping the land, Yinx’ ears twitched, skin warm to the touch beneath an admittedly thicker winter coat of fur. The heating had long been switched off for the evening, but that didn’t matter to her, generating enough heat from the needs and lusts of her body alone to warm the air around her.
The machine pulsed, milk sloshing alluringly around the cups – how it could raise an extra throb of desire from her, she’d never know – before pouring into the nearly full container. Moaning, she ran her paws up her stomach, one leaving a streak of moisture in its wake as she pulled her fingers from her wetness, tail flicking and trying to wag even though it was pushed beneath her leg, the tip pushing up to tickle her calf. It was hard to think about technicalities like that when all her body wanted to do was react and, oh, react it did.
So close…
And perhaps she should have called it quits there and then, but the wolf’s body craved more, yearning for the release that had not been denied too long, but certainly for long enough. Rolling her hips up from the carpet, she panted and ran her fingers over the pump, giving herself over to sensation as it massaged and rippled, milk leaking from her nipples, slowly becoming sore but in the most delicious way.
Nearly. Everything thrummed to a crescendo, the wolf’s body rocking and grinding to a beat that was only for her ears. Whimpering, her need built to a low howl, which rose from her lips and echoed through the house.
Oh, but it was worth it! Her lactating breasts tingled pleasurably and she arched onto the precipice of a truly explosive orgasm.
“Yinx? What’s going on?”
The stairs creaked and Yinx shot upright, yelping as the pump popped off her breasts, fur flattened where the rims of the cups had rested.
Busted!