Bob Kine's life had gone in a direction he had never imagined. One day, he was just a tired old bull, working and tending to his house day-in-and-day-out. The next, he found himself in a polyamorous relationship with his wife and his new neighbor.
Since that fateful encounter, he and Bertha had been insatiable, often calling Cody for favors when the desire arose in them, and today, it certainly did. Even when Cody didn't answer his text message, he still didn't take care of his rampant horniness. So, even as he tends to his garden, his pants are tight, and his thoughts are toward that coyote busy.
That is why his ears perk up when he hears the sounds of unmistakable rutting in his neighbor's house. The bull sighs and looks up towards the bedroom window, grumbling to himself and scratching at his chest through his sweat-stained tank top.
"Fuckin' hell," he grumbles. "Coulda jerked off after all or wait for the wife to get back," he also admitted.
But as he stands there and listens, a frown spreads. Some words and some sounds from within perk his curiosity and his arousal, but also suspicion and uncertainty.
That's when he sees Cody poke out his head and take a nice hefty breath, look down to  Bob with a shit-eating grin, and tell him something he never thought he'd hear before.
—
Bob slams his fist against his neighbor's front door, snarling and huffing, stamping about back and forth on the porch. Cody's voice pipes up from his doorbell, a slight chuckle coming before anything else. "Something the matter?"
"I'd say!" Bob growls, leaning in close to the camera. "You let me come here and tell that boy what for!"
"Oh, what, boy?" Cody muses. "And whatever did he do wrong? Please, spell it out for me, I can be quite dense."
Bob takes a deep breath, puffs out his chest, exhales, and stops, his ears perking up.
Jogging across the street is another neighbor.
"I can't," he hisses. "Not out here."
"Oooh, that's too bad," Cody says. "Because if I don't know your problem, I can't possibly know how to help you."
Bob leans in, speaking through gritted teeth, pushing himself very close to the doorbell. "Is Billy up there… with you? What did you do to him?"
"Nothing." The voice comes from behind Bob.
Bob leaps up, whirling around.
Standing on the sidewalk in front of his own house is Cody. But not like Bob had ever seen him before. Cody has a tight t-shirt on, too short to cover his navel, and with the proud motto of "Fuckable Twink" displayed on it. His seems so much wider in the tight, tiny shorts that cut off just beneath the buttocks, and at his waist are the tell-tale signs of a pink-string thong.
Bob shakes himself out of his twink-induced stupor and stomps to Cody, snorting down at him. "You're just trying to rile me up, aren't you? He ain't in there. It's some other sweet thing you got, isn't it?"
"I dunno," Cody shrugs. "My bitch boy is up there sleeping right now," he says, "but whoever it is in my room, he came to me with the idea. I just cultivated his… inner slut." His tail swishes back and forth, turning around, stepping daintily down the grassy lawn on his dainty foot paws. "It all depends on which alternative will make you fuck me harder. Follow that one, won't ya?"
"Where are you going?" Bob says, stomping up to him.
"Your place," Cody says, fluttering his eyes and looking over his shoulder. After all, if you're going to vent your frustrations on me, wouldn't you rather do it away from the possibility of your progeny finding out?"
Bob snorts, placing his hand on Cody's shoulder, pulling him in close, and whispering, "I'm going to destroy that ass of yours."
Cody looks up, lapping at the bull's nose with a cute lick. "I'm counting on it."
As the two stand there, the neighbor runs past them, staring, their brows furrowed, picking up the pace of their morning run.
Cody giggles. "Well, who would have thought that would make you harder, Daddy."
Bob wraps his arm around Cody's throat. "Don't call me that… not in this context." He growls.
"A… ah… wh-what context would like it, t-then?"
Bob loosens his grip, snorting, pushing Cody forward. "The backyard. Go."
"Sure thing." He giggles, rushing over to the gate, hopping up and scrambling over it, wiggling his butt as he climbs over the edge and hops down the other side.
“D… damn…” Bob admits, shaking his head. "The fuck is going on…"
Once he enters his yard, Bob is greeted with a discarded t-shirt and shorts. He glances up to see Cody sitting on his wife's sunbathing chair. The older man, this twink-who-refused-to-die, lounges upon it, that thong on, barely containing the package that pumps his wife, but also a tiny bikini barely hiding his nipples, somehow making him all-the-hotter.
"You know, my friend up there," Cody says, crossing one ankle over the other and laying his hands behind his head, "taught me I should embrace my feminine side more. It's never too late to be a total bitch slut. Especially when you have such a bull ready to fuck your brains out."
Bob grabs his tank top, peeling it off of him, lifting it, and tossing it to the side. He stands before the coyote, clenching his fists tightly. "You don't have to piss me off to get fucked by me." He says.
"And yet, surely, you're harder than you were a few minutes ago."
Bob's tail whips back and forth.
"How about this, Daddy," He says, turning onto his stomach, his ass so toned and round, his tail lifting. "You impregnate my bussy today, and I'll answer all your questions about the boy in my bedroom."
“I don’t… want to know…” Bob says, his body twitching, as Cody notes, towards the neighbor's house.
"Fuck me, and I'll tell you," says the coyote, licking his lips. "If you don't want to know, don't fuck me."
A soft growl rises from Cody's chest.
Bob's cock strains against his pants, his fingers trembling, and his hands grasping at the button.
With a pop, his fate is sealed.
And while the bull climbs atop his femboy, a groggy figure steps out of bed. He looks out the window, only to freeze when he sees the scene before him, gripping the window tightly and biting his lip.