"…with a weather front brewing, we can expect a moderate rainstorm to unleash upon the Washington State later this afternoon. In other news; Frederick Parker’s status has be upgraded to stable. Still not out of the woods after being shot at; the mobster is currently in a medically induced coma…”
A growl can be heard as the radio alarm clock goes off; the news update from KMCL waking the slumbering bear as he snuggles with his were-tiger mate. Not wanting to get up after a late night at work; Douglas Cooper debates whether or not to smash the alarm as it keeps talking about the media circus stemming from Frederick Parker and the man that tried to assassinate him yesterday.
“Enough of that,” as an orange and black furry paw slaps the alarm; ending its cacophonous assault.
“I thought you were planning on sleeping late,” the were-tigress stirring.
“I was Joan,” Douglas slowly getting up; “but we got to get Darrell ready for school. We can go back to bed afterwards,” Douglas elicits a wry grin from his ursine muzzle; “and pick up where we left off last night.”
Joan rumbles in excitement as she looks at her large were-grizzly mate; her tail twitching in excitement over what Douglas is implying. Remembering fondly when Douglas came home last night; it was an hour after Darrell was put to bed for the evening. Watching as he trudged in the front door and quickly shucking off his clothes as he assumed his fursona and letting off an ursine grunt as she sashayed towards him; laying her paws on his sheathe as his hot breath hits her feline muzzle.
“Let’s just hope,” Joan getting up; “that the police station can stand to be without you for the morning.”
“I made sure of that,” Douglas putting on a robe as he begins to de-fur; “deeepushy Jonshonnn…”
“Stop talking as your muzzle retracts,” Joan rolling her eyes; “you can tell me after I rouse Darrell. You get breakfast started in the meantime,” Joan walking past Douglas; allowing him a good view of her furry ass, her tail swaying happily as she walked into the room across the hall.
*********
Breakfast was beginning to be a large affair for Douglas. Before meeting Joan, Douglas was more than satisfied with oatmeal complete with coffee and toast. Now breakfast consisted with large copious amounts of eggs, bacon, sausages and fruit; the toast and coffee stayed, but there was also juice and cereal for Darrell. Yet today, Douglas had managed to scrounge up some pancake batter and the last of the trout he caught, last fishing season.
“Guess I’m going grocery shopping later today,” Douglas mutters as he starts frying the fish while mixing the pancake batter. Finding some blueberries in the fridge; Douglas tosses them into the batter just as Darrell comes bounding into the kitchen. Still in his pajamas depicting various airplanes; Douglas observes as Darrell hopes into a chair at the table.
“Pancakes for you today Darrell,” Douglas taking the maple syrup out of the cupboard and placing it on the table.
“A shower afterwards,” Joan arriving; smelling the fish on the skillet, she subconsciously licks her lips as the delicious smell excites the tiger in her.
“We’ll need to get groceries later,” Douglas flipping a few pancakes over; “we are out of eggs and…”
“…we’ll do that together,” Joan watching the fish getting flipped over; “let’s just eat first and get Darrell ready for school.”
********
…♫ It took all the strength I had not to fall apart
Kept trying hard to mend the pieces of my broken heart
And I spent oh-so many nights just feeling sorry for myself♫…
“Oh why did it have to be that song,” a black furred paw quickly shutting the alarm off; turning his head to look at the time, Benton see that it is six in the morning. Trying to get up, Benton is stopped as a furry arm draped over his chest, while its body was clearly snuggle next to him. Seeing Amanda nestle under the crook of his arm; his paw absently caressing her rump. Despite feeling tired; spending half the night rutting with Amanda, put a smile on Benton’s muzzle. A smile that has rarely been seen; not since the days when Frieda was still a baby and Benton walked in the nursery to see Amanda nursing their child or changing her diapers.
“What do you have against Gloria Gaynor,” Amanda mumbling as she slowly stirs from her slumber.
“Nothing,” Benton moving Amanda’s arm so he can get up and stretch; “I’m just not particularly fond of her song I will Survive.”
“You usually have the alarm clock set to KCML,” Amanda looking at the radio dial; “why is it at KPXX?”
“It is,” Benton grabbing the device; “I don’t remember setting to Lance’s radio station? Did you have a paw in this?”
“No,” Amanda looking at her husband dubiously; “it was probably one of the were-cheetah maids as they were cleaning yesterday. I caught them listening to music as they worked in the past,” Amanda watching as Benton resets the radio too KCML.
“You’re the one who hired them,” Benton putting down the clock radio; “so you deal with it. After I drop the three off for school,” Benton walking out of the master bedroom; “I’ll return home. If Frances arrives before me for the therapy session…”
“I know,” Amanda interrupting as she follows Benton; “It won’t be the first time I’ve played hostess to a guest.”
Benton remains silent as he heads down the hall to Frieda’s room. As he was about to open the door, Amanda stops him.
“Knock first,” Amanda glaring; “she may be our daughter, but Frieda is also a lady. You don’t barge in on a lady’s room unannounced.”
Benton rolls his eyes as he knocks on the hardwood door. “I can see why Frieda is loathed to go to those finishing schools you keep bringing up; All those rules of dress and comportment.”
“Its manners,” Amanda glaring at the hulking were-panther; “something you should be familiar with.”
“Whatever,” Benton shaking his head; “she is not answering, so I’m walking in.”
Opening the door; Benton sees on the king sized bed in Frieda’s room, a mass of fur in deep slumber. Seeing Frieda sandwiched between both Eric and Spencer; Benton was surprised to see the three Doberman puppies Amanda adopted yesterday on Frieda’s bed, also snuggled next to the three children.
“Now how the hell did those puppies get here,” Benton unsure of what to do.
“A mystery to tackle with later,” Amanda letting her stony demeanor crack and a smile escape her feline muzzle; “let’s wake them up and head downstairs for breakfast.”