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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First Times & Heat Rhymes
Part Two
Three months later.
Halloween was Bethany's favourite day of the year, not simply because it was her birthday. What was better than presents mixed with the spookiest, goriest celebration of the year? Nothing, of course!
"Happy Birthday, Beth!"
"You look gorgeous, Beth!"
Pirouetting through her party, Bethany glowed from attention and praise. Held at her mother's favourite home, which was as close to a countryside mansion as one could get without belonging to the gentry, they had dressed it for the occasion. The liking for horror and wicked celebration had leaked over from the US predominantly and Beth utilised all that she had learned upon her travels. Cobwebs draped from the rafters with spiders crafted from dyed twine, twisted into grotesque bodies and spindly legs, while ghoulish figures hung in the hallways, mouths agape in a silent scream. She had carved pumpkins with her mother until she became bored and had the servants complete the task, planting them around the grounds and lantern-lit party areas. No expense was spared: she was her mother's sweetheart and her father's special girl. The style and design was new, it was innovative and it was hers.
She faltered mid-skip across the courtyard, party in mid swing, eyes scanning the crowd that did not merely consist of her friends and family. A party was a party, after all, and everyone had been invited, with friends and more. There was only one, however, that Beth wanted to see and he was far away, across the ocean on another continent. Hans was beyond her reach.
The wolf moped over the buffet table, ears flipping back sulkily. The food was delicious, the company divine and the night was young, yet she half wished it was over already. When would she see her Hans again? She picked at finger food, pushing it around the plates with a scowl.
"Darling!"
Her ears perked and her muzzle brightened into a grin. Her mother padded across the courtyard, moving so lightly upon her paws that she appeared to ghost along. Her father always said she should have been a dancer. And that Beth was the spitting image of her. Smiling, Ruth brushed back her daughter's hair, tucking a wayward strand behind her ear.
"Are you not enjoying the celebration, Bethany? A frown does not become you."
"I am well, mother," Beth answered flatly, smile disappearing. "Do not have concern for me - I adore the party."
Ruth tilted her head to one side, contemplative. Beth could not help but notice how her mother drew male attention even with Beth standing right there. A male that she knew in passing, a tall, handsome feline with jet black fur, stood and stared, whiskers twitching, until her mother flipped her hair and the trance was broken. He shook his head and looked about as if guilty that he had been caught looking and, in typical feline fashion, streaked off into the party.
All eyes should be upon me, Beth grumbled, tail twitching against her leg. She is too old for them. And she is with father already. What do they have to gain by looking? Why does no one look at me?
Alas, Beth was too close to see the sidelong glances directed her way, though she really yearned for her sweet bat and the circle of his arms.
Ruth cleared her throat, eyes twinkling.
"Whilst I am sure you are truly enjoying yourself," she began, "perhaps there is something I may do to make things better?"
"You cannot this time, mother, but thank you." Beth tried to smile. "It is very kind of you, but everything will be okay. Have you seen Dorothy?"
Ruth shook her head, hair shimmering in the low light.
"No, not recently. Perhaps she is dancing? A group meandered in that direction not long ago. I am confident you could catch up with them if you are swift."
"That would be lovely, thank you. Thank you for organising the party, mother, I love it, truly."
Giving her mother a brief hug, Beth hid her sigh and turned, only to stop dead in her tracks, eyes wide.
It had to be a trick, an illusion. Someone was playing a cruel joke, it just had to be. For not ten paces away stood her Hans, that all-knowing, lazy grin that she loved so well splashed across his muzzle as if painted in by an artist's brush. Clad in smart trousers, dress shoes and a shirt with more than two creases, the bat opened his arms for her. Wonderingly, Beth took a step forward, afraid that the apparition would fade if she demonstrated too much eagerness. Her mother giggled, paws clasped to her chest.
No... Her Hans was real! He was actually there!