Ria Valentine is the wife of Derby Valentine, she’s a 6'5" ft tall, 46 year old anthropomorphic wolf. Her fur is mostly white with light brown fur covering everything but her muzzle, her neck, the undersides of her arms, her chest, abdomen, underside of her tail, and everything else below her waist. She also has black fur on the tips of her ears and elbows, with the fur around her neck being very, very thick. Her figure is nothing but plush, soft curves. She has breasts that had to each have been five times the size of her own head before she had kids, but now they’re much bigger, her waist is thick with a large plush belly, wide hips that extend quite far past her shoulders, buttocks that are just as big if not bigger than her breasts, and thighs that would make a chair feel claustrophobic. She has a muzzle that protrudes outwards from her face, large pointed ears that twitch every so often, a huge, fluffy tail that constantly gives away how she’s feeling, five fingered hands tipped with claws, plantigrade legs, and five toed paws. She also has piercing yellow eyes with black sclera.

Ria’s personality is nothing short of motherly, seductive, teasing, and comforting. She loves to spoil her husband with affection and attention, but also loves to tease him with her words, actions, and even her body. She can be very playful, but she can also be very serious when she needs to be. She’s also very protective of her family, and will do anything to keep them safe.

But recently however, she’s found out her husband has been taking drugs, and she’s not happy about it. She’s tried to talk to him about it, but he’s been avoiding the subject, and she’s getting frustrated. She’s both sexually frustrated, and emotionally frustrated. She’s considering finding another man to pleasure her and take care of her children, but she’s not sure if she wants to go through with it yet.

She stands in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, her tail twitching nervously as she stares at the floor. She sighs heavily, her ears drooping slightly as she thinks about what to do. She knows she needs to confront him about it, but she’s not sure how to approach the subject without making him defensive. She’s also worried about the effect it’s having on their children, who have noticed their father’s strange behavior.

Suddenly, she hears the front door open and close, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps. She turns her head to see her husband, Derby, walking into the kitchen, his eyes bloodshot and his movements sluggish. He barely acknowledges her presence as he stumbles past her towards the fridge. Ria’s tail bristles slightly as she watches him, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "Derby," she says, her voice firm but laced with concern. "We need to talk."

He pauses mid-motion, his paw hovering over the fridge handle. "What do you want, you fat, overweight bitch?" Derby snaps, his tone dripping with venom. His words sting, but Ria refuses to let them derail her. She crosses her arms, her expression hardening. "I want to know why you’re coming home like this every night," she replies, her voice steady. "And I want to know why you think it’s okay to talk to me like that."

Derby scoffs, turning to face her fully, his pupils dilated unnaturally. "Like what? Like the nagging wife you are?" he sneers, his tail lashing behind him. Ria’s ears flatten against her head, her claws digging into her own arms slightly. "You’re not the man I married," she says quietly, her voice thick with emotion. "This isn’t you."

The fridge door slams shut as Derby shoves past her again, knocking a ceramic bowl off the counter. It shatters on the floor between them—a brittle punctuation to the silence that follows. Ria doesn’t flinch. Instead, she steps over the shards, blocking his path to the living room. "You’re going to talk to me," she growls, her maternal protectiveness overriding her patience. "Our kids are scared of you."

Derby’s muzzle twists into something ugly, his drugged haze making him sway. "They’ll get over it," he slurs, swiping a paw dismissively. "Everyone’s so damn sensitive." The stale scent of sweat and something chemical clings to his fur. Ria’s nose wrinkles, but she doesn’t back down. Her tail lashes once, decisive. "No. You don’t get to ruin this family because you can’t handle whatever shit you’re drowning in."

His laugh is sharp, brittle. "Oh, *you’re* the saint now? Please." Derby leans in, his breath hot and rancid. "Look at yourself. You think anyone else would want this?" He gestures vaguely at her excessively voluptuous frame, his claws catching the light. Ria’s ears pin flat, but her voice doesn’t waver. "I’d rather sleep alone than with whatever *this* is." She flicks her claws toward him, the gesture dripping with disdain.

The fridge hums in the silence. Derby’s pupils flicker—just for a second—before his sneer returns. "Fine. Then get the hell out." He shoves past her again, this time toward the liquor cabinet. Ria doesn’t stop him. Instead, she watches as he fumbles with the latch, her tail rigid behind her. "You’re right," she says, softer now. "I will. I and *my* children. Because you don’t deserve us."

Derby freezes mid-motion, the bottle clinking against the shelf. His ears twitch, but he doesn’t turn around. "They’re *my* kids too," he mutters, but the venom’s gone—replaced by something hollow. Ria exhales through her nose, her claws uncurling. "Not like this, they’re not." She steps closer, close enough to see the tremor in his paws. "You used to sing them to sleep. Now, they believe you’re the monster hiding in their closet."

The cabinet door creaks shut as Derby slumps against it, his tail limp. "I’m not—" he starts, then cuts himself off with a shaky breath. Ria doesn’t touch him, but her voice drops to a whisper. "Then *fight*." The word hangs between them, charged. Outside, the wind rattles the kitchen window, and for a heartbeat, the only sound is Derby’s ragged inhale.

He turns abruptly, his muzzle twisting. "Okay… I’ll fight alright." Derby grabbed a kitchen knife and pointed it at Ria, his claws trembling around the handle. Ria’s ears pinned back, her breath hitching—but she doesn’t retreat. "Derby," she says, slow and deliberate, "put it down." The knife glints under the fluorescent light, his pupils blown wide with adrenaline and whatever poison’s in his veins.

Unfortunately for Ria, Derby isn't listening—he lunges. She sidesteps, but not fast enough. The blade was forced deep into her shoulder. She cries out, her paws instinctively clamping over the wound. Blood seeped between her fingers, dripping onto the shattered ceramic below. Derby began to laugh hysterically, kicking her down onto the floor. Ria lets out a sharp whimper as her back hit the floor.

"You—you *bitch*!" Derby spat, yanking the knife out with a wet *schlick*. Blood sprayed across the tiles. Ria's vision swam with pain, but she rolled away just as Derby brought the knife down again—this time embedding it in the linoleum where her throat had been seconds before.

The kids' bedroom door creaked open upstairs. "Mama?" came a small, trembling voice. Derby's ears twitched toward the sound, his nostrils flaring. Ria seized the moment—she kicked out with all her strength, her paw connecting with his family jewels. Derby howled, doubling over.

"Honey! Go get your sisters! Get to the van *now*!" Ria barked between ragged breaths, already scrambling to her feet. The knife still quivered in the floorboards as Derby gasped for air. Her shoulder pulsed agony with every movement, but she snatched her keys from the hook by the fridge.

Derby's claws scraped against the floor as he tried to rise. "You... ruined *everything*," he snarled, flecks of spit dotting his muzzle. Ria didn't answer—she just ran upstairs to gather her three whimpering children, shooing them back down toward the garage door.

The oldest, a scrawny nine-year-old pup named Eli, clung to her uninjured arm. "Mama, you're bleeding!" he whispered, ears flat against his skull. Ria forced a smile, pressing a paw to his head. "Just a scratch, baby. Go climb in the van." Behind them, Derby's uneven footsteps thudded against the stairs—too slow, but getting closer.

The twins, barely five, huddled by the garage door in matching dinosaur pajamas. Ria fumbled with the keys, her claws slick with blood. "Seatbelts on, now," she ordered, forcing the keys into the ignition with a trembling paw. The engine sputtered to life just as Derby slammed against the garage door, his claws screeching down the metal.

"You can't run forever!" Derby's voice was muffled but venomous through the door. Eli whimpered, clutching his youngest sister. Ria threw the van into reverse without hesitation, tires squealing as she backed down the driveway. The garage door shuddered under Derby's weight—then silence.

Headlights illuminated the suburban street as Ria sped away, her breathing ragged. "Mommy, where are we going?" piped one of the twins, her tiny paws gripping the carseat straps. Ria adjusted the rearview mirror to hide her bloodied shoulder. "I..I have a friend that lives not too far away," she murmured, her enormous chest heaving with exhaustion. "Mama… Mama desperately needs his help."

The van rattled over potholes as she turned onto an unlit backroad. Eli kept glancing behind them, his ears twitching at every shadow. "Is Daddy gonna follow us?" he whispered. Ria's tail bristled against the seat. "Not if Mama can help it," she growled softly, punching the accelerator harder.

A well lit wooden lodge appeared through the trees—the kind of place with smoke curling from the chimney and an old truck parked crookedly out front. Ria's claws tightened around the wheel. "F-follow Mama… quickly," she slurred, her vision blurring at the edges. The twins clutched each other's paws as they scurried out of the van.

Ria practically dragged herself up the porch steps, leaving smears of crimson on the railing. Eli quickly began to repeatedly ring the doorbell, his tiny paws pressing it over and over again. "Someone help! My mommy's hurt!" he yelped.

The door swung open to reveal you, a 5'5" human man—your eyes narrowed in slight annoyance from the doorbell spam. "Who the heck keeps ringing my—" you froze mid-sentence, taking in Ria's bleeding form slumped against the doorframe, her massive frame trembling as she struggled to stay upright. "Oh *fuck*. Ria…" you muttered, immediately moving to support her.

But before you could react further, Ria collapsed forward, her plush body hitting you with the full force of a drugged-up wolf mom's exhaustion. You staggered under her weight—her breasts alone are larger then your entire torso—but somehow managed to keep her from face-planting onto your hardwood floor. "Eli, hold the door open, I need to drag your mother inside," you ordered sharply, your arms straining under Ria's bulk.

"Mr. Matthew—she's bleeding *bad*," Eli whimpered, his claws digging into his sisters' pajama sleeves. You shot a glance at Ria's shoulder—the wound was deep, ragged, and still oozing crimson. "Yeah, I can see that," you muttered, beginning the awkward shuffle backward with Ria half-draped over you. Her breath came in wet rasps against your neck. "D-Derby... knife..." she slurred, her tail limp and dragging behind her.

Once inside, you laid Ria down on the floor before gathering the children to you to help roll her onto her back. "Alright, kids—I need you to listen carefully," you said, keeping your voice steady as you snatched your medical kit from the shelf. The twins nodded silently, their ears flat against their skulls. Eli swallowed hard. "Is Mama gonna die?"

You shook your head firmly. "No, not at all. She got here in time, she’ll be okay." With practiced hands, you began to examine Ria’s wound, pressing gauze firmly against the bleeding. Ria groaned, her claws flexing weakly against the floorboards. "Matthew… kids… get them *away*," she mumbled, her voice thick with pain.

Eli whimpered, clutching his sisters tighter. "Mama, don’t die!" he cried, his tiny body shaking. You shot the kids a reassuring glance. "Hey, she’s tougher than she looks. Right, Ria?" You gently tapped her muzzle, forcing her to focus on you. Her yellow eyes flickered open, and she managed a weak grin. "Damn right… I’m not done… kicking Derby’s ass," she rasped.

The twins giggled nervously at their mother’s cursing, their tails twitching with relief. You kept pressure on the wound while reaching for the antiseptic. "Eli, how about you take your sisters to go pick out a bedroom? They’re up those stairs—second door on the left." Eli hesitated, glancing back at Ria. "Go on," she murmured, nudging him with her uninjured paw. "Mama’s got this." The pups scampered off, their tiny paws pattering against the hardwood.

You peeled back the gauze, grimacing at the jagged wound. "I don’t have any drugs to soothe the pain, Ria. This is gonna hurt." She scoffed, her claws digging into the floor. "After tonight? I’ll barely feel it." You poured the antiseptic—Ria’s entire body tensed, a guttural growl escaping her muzzle, but she didn’t flinch. "Good girl," you muttered, threading the needle. Her ears flicked at the praise, her tail thumping weakly.

Outside, wind howled against the cabin walls. Eli’s voice drifted downstairs—"No, *I* get the top bunk!"—followed by the twins’ playful bickering. Ria’s breathing steadied. "They sound... okay," she murmured, her eyes glazing slightly. You tugged the suture tight. "Focus on me. Tell me what happened." Her muzzle twisted. "Derby’s lost. The drugs, the anger... he pulled a knife like some back-alley junkie." A bitter laugh. "Guess I married a cliché."

You tied off the stitches. "You’re lucky he didn’t hit anything vital." Ria flexed her shoulder experimentally, wincing. "Vital’s debatable." Her attempt at humor faltered as she glanced toward the stairs. "They saw everything." You wiped blood from your hands. "Kids bounce back. But Derby won’t stop coming." Ria’s ears pinned back. "I know." She hesitated, then grabbed your wrist with surprising strength. "Matthew... I need a… uh…" Her voice cracked—not from pain, but something else entirely.

The unspoken request hung between you. You raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? Have you forgotten that you, are, married?" She scoffed, tail twitching. "Oh, I *remember*. Derby made that *real* clear tonight." Her claws dug into the floor again. "Look, just… help me *forget* for five minutes." Her pupils dilated slightly—not from blood loss this time.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. "Ria, you're bleeding out on my floor and your kids are upstairs." She huffed, rolling onto her uninjured side with a grunt. "Fine. Be *responsible*." Her sarcasm dripped thicker than the blood seeping through her bandages. The twins' laughter echoed from upstairs—someone was jumping on a bed.

Eli's voice piped up suddenly from the stairwell. "Mama? Mr. Matthew? Is everything okay?" Ria's ears perked instantly, her maternal instincts overriding everything else. "Everything's fine, baby! Just... adult talk," she called back, wincing as she adjusted her position. You smirked. "Yeah. *Very* adult." She shot you a glare that could curdle milk.

The sound of tiny paws scampering back upstairs faded away. Ria exhaled through her nose, her tail limp against the hardwood. "Damn kids and their timing," she muttered half-heartedly. You chuckled, helping her to sit up against the couch. "Probably saved me from making a bad decision." Ria's ears twitched at that. "Oh please. Like you wouldn't enjoy—"

A sudden *thud* from outside cut her off. Both of you froze. Eli's voice carried down nervously. "Mama? Someone’s pulling up the driveway." Ria's claws dug into the floorboards, her nostrils flaring as she caught the scent. "That bastard actually followed us," she growled, struggling to rise. You pressed a hand to her uninjured shoulder. "Ria… stay down. Let me handle this."

The headlights through the window cast long shadows as you grabbed the shotgun from above the front door. Ria’s ears pinned back. "Matthew, you don’t—" you cut her off with a sharp glance. "I *hunt* predators, Ria. And right now? Derby’s acting like one." The van door slammed outside, followed by uneven footsteps on the porch.

Eli’s panicked whisper carried down the stairs. "Mama, he’s *here*." Ria’s claws flexed against the hardwood, her muzzle twisting. "Kids—stay *upstairs*," she barked, forcing herself upright with a pained grunt. You chambered a round loudly enough to be heard through the door. "Who’s there?" you called, voice steady.

The doorknob rattled violently. "Ria, you *bitch*—bring my kids out here!" Derby’s voice was slurred but venomous. Ria snarled, her tail bristling behind her. "They’re *mine* tonight," she growled back. You opened the door just enough to level the shotgun at Derby’s chest—close enough for him to smell the gun oil. His bloodshot eyes flicked to the barrel, then back to you. "This doesn’t concern you, *human*," he spat.

You kept the gun steady. "It does now. Walk away." Derby’s claws twitched at his sides, his pupils dilating further. "Or what? You’ll shoot a father in front of his pups?" Ria’s ears flattened. "They’re out of sight," you said calmly. "They’ll only assume the fate you earned." Derby’s muzzle twisted—but for the first time, hesitation flickered in his stance.

Behind you, Ria’s claws dug into the couch as she forced herself upright. "Derby," she rasped, "look at yourself." Blood streaked her fur, her stitches pulling taut with every movement. "Is *this* what you want them to remember?" Derby’s tail lashed once—then stilled. His gaze flickered past you to the stairwell where tiny ears were undoubtedly listening.

A beat of silence. Then Derby lunged past you—straight for Ria. You didn’t hesitate; the blast was deafening in the enclosed space. Buckshot tore through Derby chest. He took a few steps back before collapsing onto the porch, coughing up blood. Ria screamed—not in fear, but raw anguish. "*No!*" She stumbled forward, claws outstretched toward her dying husband. The kids’ muffled sobs echoed from upstairs.

Derby’s breaths came in wet, ragged gasps. His claws twitched toward Ria’s face as she collapsed beside him. "I... I’m sorry," he choked out, blood flecking his muzzle. Ria’s ears flattened completely, her massive frame trembling as she cradled his head. "Damn you," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Damn you for making me love you anyway." Derby’s tail gave one last, feeble twitch against the wooden planks before going still.

From the doorway, you lowered the shotgun slowly. The twins’ whimpers drifted down the stairs—Eli had them pressed against the far wall, his arms wrapped protectively around their small bodies. You turned toward them, blocking their view. "Eli," you said quietly, "stay in the bedroom with your sisters." His amber eyes flicked from you to Ria’s hunched form, but he nodded silently, herding the twins further away.

Ria’s claws trembled against Derby’s fur, her breath ragged. "You selfish… stupid… bastard," she choked out between sobs, her muzzle buried in his neck. The porch light flickered overhead, casting long shadows across the bloodstained wood. You hesitated, then knelt beside her, pressing a hand to her uninjured shoulder. "Ria," you murmured, "are you—"

She jerked away violently, her ears pinned back. "*Don’t*," she snarled, her voice raw. "Just… don’t." Her tail lashed once before curling protectively around Derby’s limp form. You exhaled sharply through your nose and stood, stepping back to give her space. The twins’ muffled crying seeped through the floorboards upstairs.

Ria’s massive shoulders shuddered as she pressed her forehead to Derby’s bloodied chest. "You *idiot*," she whispered, her claws digging into his fur. "You absolute… fucking idiot." A sob caught in her throat. You turned away, gripping the shotgun tighter. "I’ll… call someone," you muttered, already reaching for your phone.

Upstairs, Eli’s small voice pierced the silence. "Mama? Is… is Daddy gone?" Ria’s ears twitched, but she didn’t lift her head. "Yeah, baby," she croaked, her tail limp against the porch. "He’s gone." The twins’ wails echoed through the cabin—high-pitched, confused. You rubbed your temples, dialing 911 with your free hand. "Yeah, I need some police, there’s been a shooting—"

Ria’s claws scraped against the wood as she hauled herself upright, her fur matted with blood—both hers and Derby’s. "Don’t," she rasped, staggering to her feet. "Not yet." You frowned, lowering the phone. "Ria, I’ve already called them. They’re coming." She swayed slightly, her massive frame casting a shadow over Derby’s still form. "Give me five minutes," she whispered. "Just… five minutes."

The twins’ muffled sobs grew louder as Eli tried—and failed—to soothe them. Ria’s ears twitched toward the sound, her tail bristling briefly before going slack. "Stay here," she murmured, stepping past you with a pained grunt. You grabbed her wrist—gently, but firmly. "Ria, you’ve torn your stitches, I need to—" She jerked her paw free with surprising strength. "*Later*," she growled, her yellow eyes flashing. "I *need* to see my pups."

Upstairs, the twins clung to Eli, their tiny claws digging into his pajama sleeves. Ria lumbered into the bedroom, her fur matted with dried blood, and immediately enveloped all three pups in her massive embrace. "Shh, babies, Mama’s here," she crooned, nuzzling their heads with her muzzle. Eli sniffled against her chest. "Mama, is Daddy *really* gone?" Ria’s breath hitched, but her voice stayed steady. "Yes, baby. He… he can’t hurt us anymore."

Downstairs, you crouched beside Derby’s body, pressing two fingers to his neck—no pulse. The porch light flickered again, casting jagged shadows across his slack muzzle. "Damn it, Derby," you muttered, brushing his eyelids shut with your thumb. A cold wind rattled the trees as distant sirens warbled through the night. You stood and placed the shotgun back above the doorframe, your hands steady but your jaw clenched.

The next few days were nothing but paperwork and hushed conversations with social workers. The twins clung to Ria’s legs during every interview, their tiny paws gripping her fur like lifelines. Ria and you were let off with self defense, but Derby's funeral was a quiet, tense affair—just you, Ria, the kids, and a cheap pine casket lowered into wet earth. Eli threw a single wilted dandelion into the grave before burying his face in Ria’s side.

Three weeks later, Ria stood in your kitchen at four in the morning, grinding her crotch against the corner of the countertop with a desperate whine. Your currently asleep in your bedroom, unaware of her nocturnal frustration. "Fuck... fuck *fuck*," she growled under her breath, her tail thrashing behind her. The counter’s edge pressed against her swollen slit through her borrowed shorts—the only pair you had that *barely* fit her hips. "M-Matthew… M-Matthew…" she whimpered into the dark, her claws digging into the laminate.

You stirred awake to the sound of muffled gasps and the unmistakable creak of stressed cabinetry. "The hell—?" Rubbing your eyes, you padded barefoot down the stairs just in time to see Ria climax violently against your kitchen island, her entire massive frame shuddering as she continued grinding. She didn’t notice you frozen in on the stairs until her hips finally stilled—then her ears shot up. "Oh *shit*," she breathed, her fur bristling with embarrassment.

You cleared your throat pointedly. "Counter’s not dishwasher safe, Ria." She whirled around, tail puffing out like a startled cat, before deflating with a groan. "Fuck. You… you saw me." You shrugged, descending the last few steps. "And? You’ve got three pups sleeping upstairs and a dead husband buried out back. If humping my furniture helps, go nuts."

Ria’s ears flattened, her muzzle twisting. "It’s not *funny*," she hissed, though her claws uncurled slightly. You smirked, leaning against the banister. "Didn’t say it was." She exhaled sharply through her nose, her tail lashing once before stilling. "I *hate* this," she muttered, more to herself than you. "Feeling like some… some *needy*—"

You cut her off with a dismissive wave. "Ria, you’ve got needs. I can only assume how intense your libido is, considering your physique." Her ears twitched at that, her cheeks darkening beneath her fur. "Shut up," she grumbled, but there was no venom in it. She glanced toward the stairs, then back at you. "I didn’t… wake the kids, did I?"

You shook your head, stepping closer. "They’re out cold. Probably dreaming of dinosaurs or whatever pups dream about." Ria exhaled sharply, her claws flexing against the countertop. "Good," she muttered, then hesitated. "...You gonna tell me I’m being inappropriate?" You snorted. "No, why would I? You’re grieving. Sex helps."

Ria’s ears flicked back in surprise. "This isn’t sex," she muttered, tail twitching. "This is… pathetic." You shrugged. "Call it what you want. Doesn’t change the fact you just came harder than my blender on ‘liquefy’." Ria choked on a laugh, her muzzle twisting into an incredulous grin despite herself. "*Goodness*, Matthew."

She rubbed her thighs together subtly, her claws tapping against the counter. "I shouldn’t—not with the kids here," she murmured, though her pupils dilated slightly. You leaned against the fridge, arms crossed. "They’re asleep. And you’re wound tighter than a violin string." Ria’s tail bristled, then slowly relaxed. "...Damn you for being right."

A creak from upstairs made her ears snap upright—just Eli shifting in his bunk. She exhaled shakily. "This is *stupid*," she muttered, but her hips pressed forward again, seeking friction against the wood. You watched her for a beat before pushing off the fridge. "Ria. Meet me in my bedroom. If you’re ready for more than furniture."

Her tail stiffened. "Matthew, I—" But you were already walking away, tossing over your shoulder, "Door's open if you change your mind." The floorboards groaned under Ria's weight as she hesitated, her claws flexing. Another creak upstairs—Eli rolling over. Her breath hitched. "*Damn* it," she growled, padding after you with deliberate steps.

Your bedroom door stood ajar, lamplight spilling onto the hallway runner. Ria paused at the threshold, her muzzle wrinkling. "This is reckless," she muttered, yet her paw pushed the door wider. You sat on the edge of the bed, shirtless, rolling your shoulders. "Kids are asleep. Derby's gone. And you?" You met her dilated pupils. "You're *alive*, Ria."

Her claws scraped the doorframe as she stepped inside, tail bristling. "I shouldn't—" The protest died as you stood, your much smaller hands reaching up to cradle her muzzle. "I won’t make you do anything… if you wish to remain friends," you murmured. "We can… just remain friends."

Ria’s breath hitched, her massive frame trembling. "Friends don’t… friends don’t *watch* friends grind on counters," she rasped, her fur bristling. You smirked, thumb tracing her lower lip. "True, but that was an accidental encounter. This?" You pressed closer despite the height difference. "This is intentional."

She exhaled sharply through her nose—half frustration, half amusement—before dipping her head to nuzzle roughly against your neck. "You’re insufferable," she growled, but her claws curled into your shoulders instead of pushing you away. You chuckled against her fur. "And yet here you are."

Her hips rolled forward instinctively, pressing her swollen slit against your thigh with a wet smear. Ria’s breath hitched. "Fuck—*fuck*—I shouldn’t be doing this," she muttered, even as her paws dragged you closer. You nipped at her throat. "Tell me to stop, then." She snarled, her tail lashing against the doorframe. "*Don’t* play coy with me, human."

With a growl, she moved past you towards the bed, her claws digging into the mattress as she climbed onto it. The old wood groaned beneath her weight—both from her sheer size and the predatory way she settled onto all fours, her tail arched high. "Well?" she rumbled over her shoulder, her yellow eyes glinting in the lamplight. "You invited me in. *Do something*."

You slid onto the bed behind her, running a hand along the dip of her spine. She shuddered, her fur standing on end. "Easy, girl," you murmured, pressing a kiss between her shoulder blades. Ria's breath came in ragged bursts, her claws tearing tiny holes in the sheets. "Stop teasing," she snarled, pushing back against you insistently. "I'm not some blushing virgin—*fuck* me already."

With a low chuckle, you obliged, pushing down your pajama bottoms and revealing your eight-inch long, three-inch girth cock—thick, veiny, and already dripping pre-cum. Ria's nostrils flared at the scent, her tail curling eagerly. "Oh fuck yes," she growled, her slit visibly pulsing with need. You gripped her hips—barely able to span them—and guided yourself inside with one smooth thrust. Ria's back arched violently, a strangled howl catching in her throat as her walls clenched around you.

"Quiet," you murmured against her ear, nipping the furred tip. "Unless you want the kids to hear." Ria lowered her muzzle into the pillow, wrapping her arms around it as she muffled her whimpers. You set a brutal pace, each thrust making the bedframe creak ominously. "Y-you’re so beautiful Ria, you know that?" you groaned, watching her massive form tremble beneath you. She scoffed into the pillow, her hips bucking back against you. "Shut up and—*oh fuck*—just *breed* me already."

Her inner muscles clenched around you rhythmically, dragging a ragged moan from your throat. Ria’s tail thrashed wildly, her claws digging into the mattress as she reached her peak. "M-Matthew—*I’m coming*—" she snarled through clenched teeth, her entire body locking up as waves of pleasure wracked her frame. You however weren’t done—you kept fucking her through her orgasm, chasing your own release with deep, punishing strokes.

"Goodness, you feel *amazing*," you panted, your hands gripping her thick hips for leverage as you hammered into her. Ria whimpered into the pillow, her ears flat against her skull as overstimulation set in. "T-too much—*ah!*—slow down, you bastard!" she gasped, though her hips still rocked back greedily against yours. You smirked, deliberately angling your next thrust to brush against that sweet spot inside her—Ria’s back arched violently, a broken howl escaping her despite her efforts to stay quiet.

You immediately reached forward and clamped a hand over her muzzle, pressing your chest against her furred back. "*Shh*, Ria—you’ll wake the whole house," you murmured against her ear, your thrusts slowing to deep, grinding rolls of your hips. She shuddered beneath you, her claws tearing through the sheets as she fought to stay silent. "*Fuck* you," she growled against your palm, her tail lashing against your thighs—but the way her walls fluttered around you betrayed her enjoyment.

The sound of a door creaking in the hallway froze you both mid-thrust. Ria’s ears swiveled toward the noise, her entire body tensing. "M-Mama?" Eli’s sleepy voice carried through the wood. "*Shit*," Ria hissed under her breath, her hips instinctively pressing back against you to keep you buried inside her. "Eli, baby—go back to bed," she called, her voice strained but steady. The pause that followed felt agonizingly long before small footsteps finally retreated down the hall.

You exhaled sharply, your grip tightening on Ria’s hips. "That was close," you muttered, pressing a kiss between her shoulder blades. Ria shuddered, her tail flicking against your thigh. "Too close," she growled, but the way her inner muscles clenched around you betrayed her lingering arousal. "Don’t stop now," she added with a needy whine, pushing back against you insistently. You obliged, resuming your slow, deep strokes—each one drawing a muffled whimper from Ria as she bit down on the pillow.

The bedframe creaked ominously, but neither of you cared anymore. Ria’s breath came in ragged bursts, her claws kneading the mattress like dough. "Y-you’re gonna make me—*ah!*—come again, you bastard," she snarled, her fur bristling with sweat and exertion. You chuckled darkly, your fingers digging into her thick fur. "That’s the idea," you breathed, angling your hips to hit that spot inside her that made her legs tremble. Ria’s entire body locked up, her muffled scream vibrating against the pillow as another orgasm ripped through her.

You weren’t far behind—her walls clenched around you like a vice, pulling you over the edge with a low groan. "Fuck, Ria… I’m about to cum, do… do you want me to?" You gasped out between thrusts. Ria’s hips bucked wildly, her tail lashing against your thighs. "D-do it, Matthew—*fill* me!" she demanded, her voice breaking mid-sentence. The command sent you over the edge—you buried yourself to the hilt with one final thrust, spilling deep inside her with a shuddering groan.

Ria collapsed forward onto the bed, her massive frame trembling as she panted against the ruined sheets. "Oh… oh *goodness*," she muttered, her claws flexing weakly against the mattress. You carefully pulled out, watching your cum dribble from her stretched slit as she rolled onto her side with a grunt. Ria’s tail flicked lazily, her golden eyes half-lidded as she surveyed you. "That was… irresponsible," she murmured, though her muzzle curled into a satisfied smirk.

You chuckled, running a hand through your sweat-dampened hair. "Says the woman who came three times." Ria huffed, swatting at you with a pillow—though the effort was half-hearted at best. "Shut up," she grumbled, her ears twitching toward the hallway. "Eli better not have heard *any* of that." The house remained silent save for the occasional creak of settling wood. Ria exhaled sharply, her tail curling around her thigh. "Derby never…" She trailed off, her claws kneading the sheets absently.

You raised an eyebrow, climbing on top of her much larger frame. "Never what?" Ria avoided your gaze, her muzzle darkening beneath her fur. "Never… never called me beautiful," she muttered, almost too quiet to hear. You cupped her jaw gently, forcing her to meet your eyes. "Are you sure his eyes still worked?" She snorted despite herself, swatting your shoulder again—but this time, her claws stayed sheathed.

Down the hall, Eli’s bedroom door creaked open again—tiny paws padding toward the bathroom. Ria froze, ears swiveling toward the sound. "*Shit*," she hissed, scrambling for the blankets to cover herself. You chuckled, shoving away the tangled sheets. "Relax. I locked the door, the moment you closed it, it clicked." Ria’s tail bristled before relaxing slightly. "Still. I should—" She gestured vaguely toward the hallway, her nose twitching as Eli’s footsteps passed by.

A pause. Then Eli’s small voice piped up outside the door. "Mama? Why are you in Mr. Matthew’s room?" Ria’s claws flexed against the mattress. "Just… talking, baby. Go back to bed," she called, her voice strained. Eli hesitated. "Is… is he making you happy?" The innocence in his tone made Ria’s breath hitch. She glanced at you, her yellow eyes softening. "Yeah, pup. He is."

Footsteps faded down the hall. Ria exhaled sharply, her tail thumping against the bed. "*Kids*," she muttered, rubbing her muzzle. You smirked, tracing circles on her hip. "So. That happened." Ria swatted your hand away half-heartedly. "Shut up. And don’t think this means anything," she growled, though her ears twitched toward the hallway again—listening for tiny eavesdroppers.

Moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting stripes across Ria’s heaving flank. She scratched idly at her stitches with a grimace. "Damn. These better not have ripped." You leaned over to inspect them in the dim light. "They’re pretty much ready to be removed." Ria snorted. "Yeah? Well, something *else* feels removed." She paused, then groaned. "*Goodness*, that was terrible."

Eli’s soft snores drifted through the wall, breaking the tension. Ria’s ears twitched toward the sound before she flopped onto her back with a sigh. "We can’t… *do this* again," she muttered, though her tail curled around your ankle possessively. You traced a claw mark on her thigh. "I understand… you’ve got kids and all."

She scoffed, rolling onto her side with you, pressing her muzzle against your collarbone. "You’re way too kind for your own good, you know that?" Ria growled, her voice rough but affectionate. You chuckled, fingers threading through the thick fur between her shoulders. "I try."

The distant chirp of crickets filled the silence as Ria’s breathing evened out. Her tail twitched against your leg—once, twice—before stilling. "Did you mean it?" she murmured suddenly, barely audible. "What?" You tilted your head. Her claws flexed against your chest. "Calling me beautiful."

You exhaled through your nose, laying your head back against the pillow. "Yes." Ria’s ears flicked back, her muzzle pressing harder into your collarbone. "You… you shouldn’t," she muttered, the bed creaking as she rolled away, her back to you. "We’re not even the same species."

A beat passed. You reached out, tracing the ridge of her spine, feeling the tension coiled beneath her fur. "Do you want a relationship with me?" you asked quietly. "A romantic one?" Ria’s tail stiffened, then twitched. "I—that’s not—" She growled, frustrated, before finally sighing. "Yes… maybe."

Eli’s sleepy voice drifted through the wall again—a mumbled question about breakfast. Ria’s ears flicked toward the sound before she rolled back to face you, her golden eyes searching yours. "They *need* stability," she murmured, her claws flexing against your forearm. "Not… whatever this mess is." You squeezed her wrist gently. "Then… will you be my girlfriend?"

Ria choked on air, her fur bristling. "*Goodness*, Matthew—" she hissed, glancing at the wall where Eli’s soft snores resumed. "You don’t *ask* that after—" She gestured vaguely at the tangled sheets, her muzzle darkening. You smirked. "Would you rather this be a one-night stand?"

She flicked your forehead with a claw—carefully sheathed. "I’d rather you *think* before you speak," she grumbled, though her tail curled around your calf. You chuckled, rolling onto your side to face her fully. "Too late. Answer the question."

Ria exhaled sharply through her nose, her ears flattening briefly before perking up again. "You’re serious?" she murmured, her claws tracing idle patterns on your chest. You caught her paw, pressing it gently against your heartbeat. "Dead serious."

Her tail thumped once against the mattress—deliberate, hesitant. "The kids..." she started, then stopped, her amber eyes flicking toward the wall where Eli slept. "They already like it here," you pointed out quietly. "And I can provide for all of you."

Ria's claws flexed against your palm. "That's not..." She swallowed hard, her ears twitching. "Damn you for making this sound reasonable," she muttered, her muzzle pressing into your shoulder. You chuckled, rubbing the base of one velvety ear. "Is that a yes?"

She growled low in her throat—more habit than heat—before sighing. "Fine. *Fine.* But we tell the kids tomorrow," she grumbled, her tail flicking against your leg. "And we’re going on a proper date first. Somewhere... normal." You grinned, kissing the bridge of her nose. "Deal."

Ria huffed, batting you away half-heartedly. "Stop looking so smug," she muttered, though her claws curled into your arm gently. The mattress groaned as she rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. "*Goodness*, Derby would’ve hated this." You arched an eyebrow. "That supposed to be a deterrent?"

She snorted, tail flicking against your leg. "No. Just stating facts." Eli’s sleepy mumble through the wall made her ears twitch. "They’ll need time to adjust," she murmured, more to herself than you. You traced the curve of her hip. "We’ve got time."

"Ria," you started, but she pressed a claw to your lips. "Not tonight," she sighed, rolling onto her side away from you. "Tomorrow’s... tomorrow." Her tail curled around your thigh possessively despite the dismissal. You chuckled, settling against her broad back. "You don’t even know what I was going to say."

She huffed, her ears flattening briefly. "Don’t care. Already said yes once tonight—my generosity’s tapped out." Eli’s soft snore drifted through the wall again, and Ria’s shoulders relaxed slightly. "Besides," she muttered, her voice dropping to a whisper, "if I have to process *one more thing* today, I might actually snap."

You chuckled, pressing your forehead between her shoulder blades. "Fair enough. But it was more of a request than a confession." Ria’s tail twitched against your thigh. "Oh?" she murmured, her claws flexing against the sheets. "And what *request* would that be?"

"I’d like you to say the three most important words a couple can share," you teased, nipping at the base of her ear. Ria groaned, swatting blindly behind her. "*Goodnight*, Matthew," she grumbled, though her ears flicked back to catch your response.

You laughed softly, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Awww, cmon, please? Just once?" Ria exhaled sharply through her nose, her claws kneading the mattress. "Fine. You’re... *insufferable*."

Ria rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling while her tail thumped rhythmically against the mattress. "And?" you pressed, tracing circles on her stomach fur. She groaned dramatically. "*And*... I love you, you pain in my tail."

The confession hung between you—simple, unadorned. Eli's sleepy murmur through the wall punctured the silence first. Ria's ears twitched toward the sound before she exhaled sharply. "There. Happy?" she muttered, her claws flexing against your forearm.

You grinned, pressing your forehead to her shoulder. "And a kiss? For your new boyfriend?" Ria groaned, swatting at you half-heartedly. "*Goodness*, you're needy," she grumbled—but when you tilted your head up, she met you halfway, her muzzle brushing yours in a clumsy, fur-soft kiss.

As Ria broke away with a huff, she suddenly grabbed you and pulled you atop her chest with a growl. "Say it again," she muttered, her claws digging gently into your back. You blinked. "You’re beautiful?" Her tail thumped the mattress impatiently. "No, you idiot. The *other* thing."