under the bed

Look when his kids are involved he is an upstanding member of society, a bastion of a dad, but the moment they are gone?

This man is jorking on his peenor, porn open, in nothing but a stained singlet and boxers like it's his new work uniform!

-

It was a day trip that you definitely didn't want to miss, for two reasons: one being that it was a trip to the aquarium, and the second being a wager you had with your roommate. You'd told him that if he could keep it together for a while, a day out with you in tow, you'd give him a show he couldn't dream of, going from a smirk to deadpan as you can physically see his boxers tent as his mind runs away with what could be that show.

You hear him whimper and whine softly as you walk away, calling him gross over your shoulder before slamming your door and locking it, stifling the laughter that bubbles up as he scratches at your door like a cat begging to be allowed in.

It's like magic watching your couch rotting, porn watching grot of a roommate transform into his role as a dad.

Gone are the stained singlets and five o'clock shadow, hair washed and tail oiled, a true and functional man stands in the doorway, bag slung across his shoulder, filled with snacks, water and everything else his kids would need as he helps his youngest into their shoes. You wave to the little fox kits, asking if they are excited for the trip and smiling as they ramble about getting to see the fish. The drive to the aquarium is filled with outlandish fish facts that the kids make up on the spot, just good fun to keep them in the mood for the day.

At the aquarium, you ended up holding one of the little foxes' hands as they dragged you to and from exhibits. Their father carried the youngest and let them look at the high tanks, before gently asking you if you didn't mind lifting the other kit to let them see as well. Exhausted, the kits soon asked to sit, finding a table in the overpriced cafe of the aquarium, you sit with their dad and get them their snacks, it's adorable how they eat, cheeks stuffed and little fangs making a mess of their crackers like kittens with crunchy cardboard.

At the end of the day, in the gift shop, the two little ones get a plushie each, one picking an octopus and the other some kind of ray. The drive to drop them off at their mothers is quiet, the two kits asleep in the back, cuddled up with their respective plushies. You can't help but snag your roommate's phone and snap a picture of them while he drives.

Nasty as he is with you, he is a good dad in the end.

It's nice to be home again after a big day out, stretching and kicking off your shoes before watching the stand up dad disappear, shoulder slumped and his belt is only half way open as he pulls his shirt off and scratches the base of his tail.

You swear you can see his stubble grow back instantly as he turns to look at you, snorting you push him away from you as you head for the bathroom, looking at him from the corner of your eye as he stumbles behind you bumping into the wall and hallway table as you begin pulling layers off before the bathroom door.

Standing in your underwear you poke him in the chest and tell him he can't come in the bathroom but he can watch from the hall, if he even steps a toe over the line you'll slam the door in his face and then shows over. He nods, wiping actual drool from his lips as he drops to his knees, tail flicking on the floor as he whines loudly when you turn around and strip your underwear off, making the motions of throwing it at him only to place it just over the bathroom threshold, taunting him with snagging them but possibly losing the show.

You're thankful that it is laundry day for the bathroom, leaving the shower curtain open will definitely drench the bathmat, but you step into the shower and let the water run, heating it till steam curls and the exhaust system kicks on.

Using the bathroom mirror to watch as he kneels by the open door, pants abandoned and hand already wrapped around his cock, short, sharp flicks of his wrist tease the tip as you take his body wash and coat your hand in it generously, waiting for the surprised moan before lathering yourself up, thankful for the nonslip mat as you arch your back and work the soap across your thighs and ass.

You're washing the soap from your hand when you see him begin to shake, free hand twitching towards the underwear you'd left just over the imaginary line. The moment his fingers touch it, you're out of the shower, spitting on his hand, still stroking his cock and calling him a greedy pervert before closing the door.

By the time you're done washing up and open the door again, he's still kneeling there, the underwear he'd snatched drenched, and the floor under him has little droplets of excess cum splattered on it. He whines and looks up at you, hands sticky and shaky as he whimpers, leaning Hai forehead against the towel wrapped around your body, panting as he mumbles an apology.

Anon, you don't even know how wrinkly your brain is right now.

Boundless thoughts in there, I bet.

-

You'd forgotten something, you were halfway to the car park, and you realized you'd forgotten something, not just anything, something important. Checking quickly in your gym bag, you notice that your gym towel is missing, but most importantly, your headphones, the blessing to keeping you sane, have been left behind.

Dropping your bag back in your car, you rush back into the gym, waving yourself through the front desk as you rush to tell the clerk you left something important in your training room.

Through the door on you hardly hear the sounds that are coming from within the room. To be honest, you mostly just thought it would be a clean-up or prep for another one of your trainer's personal sessions. What you weren't prepared for as you stumbled through the door or already barreling through an explanation that you left your headphones was the sight of your training gym shorts at his knees, kneeling on the mats that you'd be stretched and sweating on.

The forgotten gym towel pressed to his face as one of his hands is wrapped firmly around his cock.

You stand there frozen as he's yet to notice you, too busy with the all-consuming scent from your gym towel that you know is just drenched in the sweat from the session he put you through. Keys and gym key fob dangling from your fingers as you watch this hulking minotaur furiously stroking his cock, flicking his wrist and smearing, what seems like an almost obscene amount of pre-cum down his length before he looks over and realizes you've entered the room again.

Awkward is not the term that should be used for the situation you find yourself in.

The door to the private studio slams heavily behind you as you let go of the handle, still staring at the trainer you have spent so much time being pressed, folded, and stretched by. Your voice fails you as you find yourself licking your lips and flicking your gaze between the wide-eyed look on his face and the sizable length still hard and very heavily leaking onto the mats beneath him.

There were sessions where you could have sworn you'd felt him almost rutting against you as he folded and stretched you out into various positions, but until now, you just thought it was just your mind playing tricks, making you think the bulky bullman was more interested in you than just a trainer-client relationship. But now you've caught him, those times pressed up against your ass or not so subtly grinding himself into the crease between your thighs as he pressed your legs together would definitely be more than just your imagination.

Swallowing thickly, you take a single moment to decide before giving in and shrugging to yourself you looking straight in the eye as you walk closer, reaching out and gently pressing your fingers against the back of his wide palm, pressing your used gym towel back into his face, looking down and gesturing for him to continue.

Almost obviously eager to see just how depraved your miniature can get, seeing as this time you'll be watching, paying attention, seeing how desperately he wanted you, no, how desperately he needs you.

The music is loud enough that you can hear it even from a block away, you know this isn't healthy, and yet you pay the ten bucks at the door and walk up the stairs to a bar that hides its patrons in plain sight.

It's only one shot, no more, no less, not that the bartender would give you more than that. The same bartender always steps up when you get to the bar, human as always, hardly flinches when you order a shot of 'true form' dumping the fifteen it costs in their hand and wait, the glass is tall, thin, more a test tube than a traditional shit glass, makes the single finger of deep blue liquid look like more than it is.

Magically indisposed humans like you aren't meant to drink this, but you grit your teeth and close your eyes, the swirl of colours and static making your teeth itch before you open your eyes again.

Shaking it off, you put the glass back down and nod at the bartender, humanity stripped away and in its place stands a more monstrous form, body made of shadow and smoke, watching as you step away from the bar. Turning back to the crowd of patrons, you think about what you're going to do tonight, looking out at a sea of monsters, ghouls, and creatures of myth.

You try to not think about the first time you tried true form, stealing your at the time roommates' drink and sipping the sweet cocktail, completely unprepared for the rush of magic through you and how when your vision cleared, the friendly housemate you'd joked with stared back with fangs and bat-like features.

The same features watching from a booth filled with other vampires, each watching as you melt onto the dancefloor, you no longer live together, and so they don't see the issue with downing their drink and beating the other bats drooling at you to the punch on the dance floor...

I feel like I almost heard the wind say an idea about 🐱bush obsessed selkie….

Damn the winds are really wild today, they speak my language tho!

-

Recently, your girlfriend has been more and more intent on sleeping on your lap, face pressed to your thighs and arms wrapped around your calves as she napped. You hadn't known where this particular current fascination had come from but, you weren't going to complain, your girlfriend was sweet with her pelt draped around her shoulders and cheek smooshed against your thighs.

Your home blessing was its shower, large enough for the two of you and with good water pressure, if you didn't have to pay the bill you would happily waste away under the stream.

In said shower was where your girlfriend's fascination was revealed, it was an everything shower, hair washed, body done, all that was left was the select areas of shaving or it would have been had your girlfriend not made herself known. Whining at you not to shave, stripping down and wrapping her arms around your legs as the water soaks her and her pelt, fingers crawling up your thighs before she laments the possibility of you taking away one of your best features, slipping her hand between your thighs as she whines.

Large dark brown eyes plead with you, fingers creeping to tease along your folds, she adjusts how she's kneeling on the tiles, face pressed to the crease of your hip as she begs you to keep your bush, promising she doesn't mind, that she loves seeing you like this, and that she will in fact run off to the sea to sulk if you go through with it.

Btw thank you for being a safe space where I can drop my horny thoughts and not be judged. 💞

Anytime anon! Trust me, you can be the most rampagingly horny person in my inbox, and that is a-okay!

But now I am also thinking about this shire horse hybrid, but my mind goes two ways, like on one hand a big beefy centaur-style man, and on the other, horse ears and the long ass tail.

-

Everyone of your friends knows the story of how you and your husband met, you'd come late to the Sunday market, and he'd been there helping pack up part of the fruit and vegetables section, hauling pallets and huge boxes of product out of the slowly emptying market hall. You'd spent a solid few minutes rushing around and scraping together the items you needed, stumbling over to the stall he was helping pack down, simpering for something, only to be cut off by the vendor.

He couldn't help it as he rounded on the stall, tossing you the bag with what you needed.

Huffing at the vendor to just let the 'pretty little thing' pay for it and be done with it. When the vendor stormed off in a huff, he'd turned to you with a wink, a flick of his ear and a cheeky smile before heading back to packing up the stalls.

You've been smitten since.

Even changed your market habits to catch him after opening the stalls, asked if he'd walk with you while you shopped, unable to hold back ogling his thighs and ass when he'd bend over or reach for high items for you. You'd never known he did it intentionally, the arching, flicking his tail and tensing his thighs to make sure you could see how strong his legs were.

Now you trap the benefits of having such a big, strong horse hybrid as your husband. Getting carried around and never having to worry about heavy lifting, the moment it looks even slightly dense, your husband is there scooping it up and kissing your cheek before carrying whatever it was off.

There are other benefits of such a large man, the breadth of his shoulders fantastic rests for your legs when you're in bed, cupping his pecs as you stand behind him on your tiptoes, giving them a squeeze before slipping past the bulk of him, the strength he has as he holds you by the hips and chest, letting your legs dangle as he fucks into you.

The lands your family saw over were minor, barely above the needed area to gain a landed title in your kingdom.

So it is no surprise that the list of servants and attendants available to your family is short, longer than a title only noble family, but not as long as some of the noble families with bigger land holds or towns under their sway. You have only really become aware of how short the list is when your last ladies maid retired, she'd come to fall pregnant and your family had let her retire, to go raise her family safely.

Now comes the trial and testing stages of finding a new ladies maid.

There were plenty that came and tried, but eventually you settled on one of the few that hadn't come from another noble family's recommendation. They were tall, almost deathly pale, with such strikingly beautiful features that would be the envy of any court lady, yet they took to the overly dark halls of your home like no other, the heavy curtains and candle lit halls almost seemed natural to them, towards the end of their trial they disclose their nature as a vampire spawn, a creature unable to make other vampires and somehow this only made the choice easier.

The family estate is kept far darker than most due to your mother's sunlight sensitivity, as such finding servants that are willing to dwell in the dark with your family tends to be difficult.

However, since your new maid had started you have grown curious, the previous maid you had didn't shy from speaking about topics usually chatted about when bathing or applying the oils to your skin, but this one simply hummed and tended to you like they didn't know how to contribute to the small talk you were trying to encourage.

Some days you tittered at them about how often they go to the stables at night, cooing in jest about being into the stable workers, being surprised when they bluntly say no, it's just for feeding. It's hard to understand if this bluntness is simply nerves or if there is something truly odd about your new maid.

Your curiosity is unintentionally quelled one evening, it had been a complete accident, the chair for your dresser had been moved and you tumbled into it, grabbing onto your maid as you did. Falling into a heap and ending up sprawled across their lap, you're surprised by what you can see under their upturned skirt. The usual stockings greet you, but looking further up your staring at smalls that you had only seen on the laundry lines, ones that you remember being told are for the male servants of your home, something about them being made for 'additional space'.

The maid your family had hired to tend to you, to bathe, oil, and dress you was a man, a beautiful androgynous man.

Time seems to drag on as you awkwardly stare at your maid, while trying to think of what you can say to somehow ease this moment. Helping smooth their skirt before standing and offering them a hand, you only respond to this particular discovery by informing them that good help is hard to come by, and that some differences between the usual ladies maid and themselves shouldn't mean anything at all.

After all, it was already strange having a vampire spawn as a servant, so what's a little more oddity in your home but character building.

It's while you have your head turned mid ramble about how this changes nothing, and you're perfectly fine having them as your ladies maid so long as they're happy to continue working for you, that you miss how red eyes soften and apprehension is replaced with budding affection.

Half way through your husband's afternoon nap you had gone shopping, left a note and everything for him, knowing that he tends to freak out when you leave without him. Just barely down the Isle of snacks and soft drinks your phone rings, your husband's name in bold letters on the screen, followed by two little sparkle emoji.

Picking up you don't expect the sniffling, and hiccuping squeaks that come down the line, he's rambling, asking where you are, what he did to make you leave, and almost halfway to begging you to come home when you laugh.

You love him, but he truly is a drama queen.

There are a few more sniffles, sobs, and squeaks after you manage to stop the laughter, his voice is small when he asks if you're coming home soon. Mentally you can see him, sitting in the mess of sheets, eyes big and wet, hair sticking up in every way, little tail limp behind him as he holds the phone against his ear, you call him cute and promise you'll be home soon, and even tack on that you'll have treats to make up for disappearing.

By the time you make it home, you don't even have to try to unlock the door as your sweet otter is stumbling out of the house, stuffed toy rock under his arm as he snatches up the bags and your hand, dragging you into the house before locking the door.

The bed is a mess, there are a few tissues on his nightstand, and once the stuff you bought is put away you are being corralled into the sheets, hand still firmly held by him as he curls up next to you, chittering and squeaking about not leaving him behind next time.

The little indignant noise he makes when you tell him you left a note is endearing, your husband is a worry wort after all.