Amanda woke up alone in bed. Finding it to be a common theme for the past while; the were-panthress growls as she knows where her husband is. Enjoying the nightly lovemaking; Amanda was finding Benton’s absence in the morning akin to one night stands.
“I hope for your sake,” Amanda growling; “you aren’t in your study Benton."
Getting out of bed, Amanda stretches; her tail standing straight as she yawns, before resting back into its usual curl. Walking downstairs, Amanda was surprised to see her husband in the kitchen talking quietly on his phone. Entering the kitchen to grab a coffee; Amanda was further surprised to hear a female on the other end of the conversation.
“This Saturday seems rather short notice for what you want to do,” Benton asking.
“I agree,” Samantha responding; “but Martin thinks it makes perfect sense. With today’s picnic under a were-alert…”
“Most might not bother to show up,” Benton sighing; “everybody was looking forward to being in their fursonas today.”
“This will also give me the opportunity to lay out my platform,” Samantha stating; “since today’s picnic is being hijacked by…”
“I know,” Benton growling; “don’t say that… person’s… name. Beside,” Benton taking a breath; “my brother’s reporter will most assuredly kill your competition’s chance of ever getting elected. I have it on good authority that Jack’s wife has a sordid past.”
“Are you okay with hosting the make up picnic at your Estate,” Samantha asking.
“While I do have a large enough property to accommodate the event,” Benton looking at his wife; “I suggest we hold the event at the usual spot. That way the aquatic were’s can slip into the lake with ease.”
“I guess that makes sense,” Samantha speaking; “and the spot is somewhat wooded.”
“We can discuss this more with my brother Lance,” Benton speaking; “I take it you and Martin will be at the picnic today?”
“Yes,” Samantha answering; “but Martin will be late in arrival I suspect. Melissa did give birth to twins Saturday morning.”
“Fine,” Benton responding; “we’ll talk more after I get a chance to see Jack’s face contort in abject surprise when his wife gets sandbagged with the questions outing her as a prostitute on speed dial.”
Amanda observes Benton hanging up; displaying a perverse smile, the kind he gets when someone is about to suffer by his paw.
“What was all that about,” Amanda sipping her coffee.
“I was discussing with Samantha Twist,” Benton swirling the last bits of coffee in his cup; “about funding a makeup picnic.”
“A makeup picnic,” Amanda asking; “what for?”
Benton explains, what with the current Labor Day picnic being hijacked with Jack Crawford’s wife; add in the were-alert thanks to a mob boss and his goons, todays town picnic was looking to be dull affair. The town’s Labor Day picnic was the one day in the year that the residents of Moon Lake could be in their fursona during the day. The only caveat was, you could only be furry at the designated picnic grounds.
“Will the elder council agree to this makeup picnic,” Amanda sipping her coffee; “what with the possible risk of exposure.”
“Lance will talk with the council on that,” Benton responding; “holding at the same spot should allay their concerns.”
“So about yesterday,” Amanda looking at her were-panther husband; “you want to talk about what Frieda did?”
“Must we,” Benton grumbling; “I said we would talk about it. Instead she just goes and side steps the whole process, stating we are getting a dog.”
“So you are still mad over that,” Amanda looking at Benton; “you know you were going to give in the end.”
“I’m not that easy to manipulate,” Benton snorting.
“For Frieda and me you are,” Amanda grinning; “I’m surprised you never jumped at the chance at having guard dogs roaming around the property.”
********
A black furred were-panther stirs in his sleep. Waking up to the sounds of chirping birds; his ears twitch as he listens to sound of his wife sleeping next to him. Lance purred as he watches Lila breath softly. Lila is a were-tigress, but was not in her fursona. Lila was in sleep wear and is currently roughly three months pregnant. Having to refrain from shifting into her fursona for the health and safety of the unborn child; Lila was sleeping under the covers while Lance was above them. But that didn’t stop Lance from placing a paw on bed sheets, where Lila’s slightly swollen belly is.
Purring as he tries to feel his future son or daughter move despite Lila still in the first trimester of her pregnancy.
“There are better ways to wake me up,” Lila stirring from her slumber; “such as a kiss.”
“I can’t kiss our cub yet,” Lance nuzzling Lila.
“I meant me,” Lila purring; “now kiss me properly husband.”
“Gladly,” Lance growling; giving Lila a kiss with his rough feline tongue by dragging it across her face.
“You cad,” Lila giggling; “A kiss, not a lick.”
“A lick can be a kiss,” Lance purring; “if it’s given to the one you love.”
“You certainly know how to pull off the cheesy dialogue,” Lila laughing as she got out of bed; “now let’s get some breakfast.”
“Pancakes again,” Lance getting up.
“I think it’s time to challenge you,” Lila smiling; “I’m jonesing for some crepes.”
“So you want me to make a mess in the kitchen,” Lance looking at his wife.
“And I’m going to enjoy watching you do it,” Lila laughing.