The Fur Coat


He’d been talking about her for days, whispering in my ear, telling me how beautiful she was. If he was trying to make me jealous he hadn’t succeeded. I instinctively knew she would be no competition in that department. He’d never find anyone as beautiful as me. But sometimes he likes to tease me, to torment me. He has a spiteful streak. We’re similar in that respect; we both have selfish, self centred dispositions.

The major difference between us is that he’s very possessive; he likes to own things, I’m far more easy going. I may be selfish but I certainly wouldn’t want the responsibility that comes with possessions. I like being looked after, I like being spoilt and indulged. In return I’m expected to give a little, which I do, reluctantly, but then the rewards and the lifestyle I enjoy far outweigh any inconvenience to my general comfort.

Most of the time he pampers me. Some of the time he needs to release a little excess sexual energy and that’s when I indulge him and go along with his fantasies, his ‘little games’ as he likes to refer to them.

Today was such a day. He hadn’t forewarned me but I had an inkling something was up; I’d heard him making arrangements on the phone, although I’m not sure at what point he’d decided to include me.

He’d come out of the bedroom, his face impassive but his eyes flickering with excitement. “Here, look what I got you.”

His hands appeared from behind his back and he held up a collar with a leash attached. It was black leather and studded with small, glittering stones; it was beautiful. He reached out and put it, gently and reassuringly, around my neck. I love the smell of new leather.

“Wow,” he whispered, softly and seductively in my ear, “you are so beautiful.”

He was always paying me compliments like this but I remained unimpressed. He found my aloofness attractive. Coming from a moneyed background, possessions and friendships had been easy to attain. He was used to attention and took it for granted. If others reacted with disinterest or indifference to his presence it intrigued and attracted him. He was certainly attracted by my indifference. He wanted to win me over, gain my affections, but capturing my heart was never going to happen. I accommodated his needs, he served mine.

Having secured the collar he turned and led me, by the leash, along the carpeted landing. I didn’t resist, I wasn’t going to spoil his fun. As we entered the bedroom his brogues clicked sharply on the polished floorboards making an oddly disconcerting, unsettling sound.

He led me to the chaise longue by the large window opposite his four poster bed.  He looked at me sternly, as though I was a small girl, then commanded, “Stay there and don’t move, she’ll be here soon and then the show can begin.”

Outwardly, he was confident, self assured, but I could sense an underlying tension, a faint anxiety. I knew he was concerned that she wouldn’t turn up. He’d feel foolish if she didn’t. He clipped the leash to a metal ring that had been set into the wall by the chaise longue. It was all part of the game but I had no intention of going anywhere, I was interested in his little show.

He went downstairs, leaving me in the calm silence of the room. I strained my ears. I could hear him moving about in the hallway. I knew what he was doing; checking himself out in the mirror, checking his face, his hair, practicing expressions of stern displeasure, disapproval, haughtiness; I’d seen it all before. Then there was the sound of the doorbell, a heavy chime, a few excited exchanges, subdued squeals and then silence, only for a few seconds, before I heard a muffled sound, a sort of soft but heavy padding. The sound gradually became clearer and then I heard him gently but firmly giving directions, his voice calm and reassuring.

“That’s it, only a couple more steps, good girl.”

The padding, shuffling sound was now quite distinct. He entered the bedroom, his shoes rapping, authoritatively, on the floor.

His voice was sharper now; he was tugging on a leash.

“Come on, my cock’s impatient.”

I heard her voice before I saw her.

“Yes, sir, I’m coming.”

When she entered the room my heart began to thump. Like me, she had a collar around her neck. However, unlike me, she was blindfolded and crawling on her hands and knees. But it wasn’t her position that had caused my heart to jump with excitement, it was her clothing. She was wearing a beautiful, white, full length, fur coat.

I love fur. Nothing compares to its softness, its warmth, its luxuriousness. He sensed my excitement and put his forefinger to his lips signalling for me to stay quiet.

“Is your husband at work?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And did you tell him?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what did he say?”

“He said I must be a good girl.”

He stopped by the bed, having led her onto a thick rug. “Kneel before me.”

As she raised herself into a kneeling position I could clearly see the black velvet blindfold masking her eyes and the black leather choker that contrasted with her milky complexion and the white fur of the coat. He bent down and detached the leash and at the same time he kissed her. She opened her mouth, breathing heavily, and their tongues melted into each other. He began caressing the fur coat, his hands running over her shoulders and arms, and then he pulled it open. She wore nothing underneath and her full, luscious breasts trembled enthusiastically as the coat was forced apart. Her pink nipples were pierced by small silver rings and from each ring a pearl droplet dangled from a fine, delicate, silver chain. He cupped her breasts and licked them and played with the pearls, gently tugging them, causing her to gasp. He kissed her neck and her ears and then moved back to her mouth. My eyes were transfixed by the bright, luminescent pearls as they gently swung from her nipples. Then he broke the kiss and stood up.

“Take it out.” His voice was harsh.

She pulled at his belt and then undid the button on his waistband and began to unzip him. She eased his trousers and shorts down over his thighs, gradually revealing the length of his cock until it was released and it sprang out, swaying in front of her face, before settling into a rigid salute.

I’d rarely seen his cock in a state of flaccidity. It always seemed to be at least semi erect. He was forever playing with it in front of me.  It was large and thick and when it was fully bloated, it was quite a sight. If he caught me in the right mood it could have a soporific, almost hypnotic effect on me. He enjoyed me watching him play with himself and would often entertain me (and himself) for considerable periods of time which I found amusing as well as absorbing. There’s something very tantalising about an erect cock; it has such a presence, there’s almost an edibility about it. If ever I tried to take it in my mouth he would laugh and push me away. He does love teasing.


He was teasing now. He took hold of the base of his cock which was magnificently erect and drew the tip along the side of her cheek. Feeling the silky glans on her face, she turned her head towards it and when it connected with her eager mouth she began to suckle on the purple head. He let her enjoy herself and stood, with hands on his hips, whilst she took in as much of him as she could manage. She then placed her hands around the shaft and began to feast on it. Soon, the length of his cock was glistening with her saliva and she was panting like a dog. A dog with a bone. The comparison amused me.

Whilst she enjoyed herself he gently stroked her hair and murmured encouragingly. “That’s it, good girl, good girl.” He then placed a hand on each side of her head and moved his hips slowly back and forth. She removed her hands from his cock, to make her mouth more accessible and cupped the cheeks of his buttocks to steady herself against his rhythmic thrusts. As she did so, her fur sleeves brushed his thighs, exciting them. His tempo increased.

He looked across at me, his eyes half closed, and gave me a lazy smile. After a while he withdrew and told her to finish undressing him, which she did. It took some time as she was still blindfolded and, without the benefit of sight, undoing the thin laces of his brogues proved a finicky task.

Although crouched in a big bundle of white fur, the delicate movement of her fingers, as she attempted to undo his laces, lent her an elegance which I found enchanting. I watched, fascinated. She reminded me of a big white cat and I found the scene rather erotic, rather arousing. Eventually, when she’d managed to remove his shoes and lower clothing she stood up, and as she did so she ran her hands from his thighs up to his chest, caressing his flesh. They began kissing again and his hands reached down and fondled the fur covering her bottom. He raised a knee between her legs and she began to rub her vulva up and down the top of his thigh, causing her coat to drop back, revealing a shapely leg. She undid his shirt, carefully feeling her way along the path of the buttons, and pulled it back over his shoulders. She began to kiss and lick his chest, working her way down to his belly and back onto his cock whilst he completed the removal of his shirt.

Then she moved behind him, sat on her haunches, stroked his buttocks and began to lick his bottom, her tongue gently gliding up and down the cleft of his buttocks and he grunted appreciatively. After a while she began to work her tongue back and forth along his spine from the small of his back towards his shoulders, gradually standing up as she did so until she was kissing the back of his neck. Her hands reached to his front where she gripped his cock with one hand and began to masturbate him whilst she caressed his belly with the other. I could clearly see he was enjoying himself but he suddenly broke away and said harshly, “Now, on the bed.”

He took her by the hand and brought her round in front of me so that she was standing by the end of the bed. He then lay her down, until she was spread, her body naked and glabrous, with her white fur coat, soft, rich and glossy, fanned out beneath her. He caressed her flesh, running his hands over her breasts and belly, plucking her nipples and softly working his fingers on the outside of her pussy while her hips undulated beneath him. And then he put one arm beneath her shoulders, raised her head to his mouth and kissed her. She responded, tightening her arms around his neck, pressing herself to him as his free hand worked deftly between her legs. I watched, captivated, as he slowly buried his fingers in her pussy and her hips and buttocks writhed on his hand and she softly moaned. He played with her like this for some time.

Eventually, he got off the bed, took her by the ankles and pulled her towards him until her bottom rested at the edge of the mattress. He then knelt on the floor, between her legs, placed his hands underneath her thighs and lifted and parted them. I watched the back of his head as it moved from side to side, up and down and back and forth between her legs, and listened to her moans getting louder. After a while, he pushed her thighs right back and spread her legs wide and I could hear the sound of his mouth sucking and licking and then he stood up, took hold of her ankles and pushed them back over her head. I could clearly see his magnificent cock, hanging between his legs, positioned over her luscious vulva which was plump and glistening, the delicate lips, open and inviting. He began working the tip of his cock along the crease of her pussy, back and forth, massaging and teasing the soft flesh. He did this repeatedly and she begged him to fill her, but still he continued, until I could hear the moistened lips of her pussy slurping in anticipation as they clung to his cock. And then he slowly squeezed into her until his balls rested snugly against her. He began to fuck her, slowly at first then his pace increased and my attention was drawn to the muscles of his buttocks as they tensed with each thrust. The moans and groans were now accompanied by juicy, succulent sounds as his hips moved vigorously back and forth.

After a while he stopped. He was sweating now and breathing heavily. He pulled out of her, climbed onto the bed and straddled her head.

“Lick my balls until I tell you to stop.”

She did as she was told, gripping his thighs, tending to his balls as though they were ripe grapes hanging from a vine.

By the side of the chaise longue there was a large, oak framed, cheval mirror and he was now watching himself, enjoying the different perspective, seeing his actions from my point of view. He was quite unabashed; he cared about no one but himself. We really are very similar in many ways.

He spoke again, his voice sounding bored and irritated; all part of his game. “That’s enough. Now lie face down. I want your knees up by your head and your buttocks high up in the air.”

She positioned herself as directed. Her bottom was so high that the coat slipped down her back and gathered in a great ruffle of fur around her shoulders. Her exposed lower back and raised bottom looked like the unsheathed shaft and glans of an enormous, white, furry cock. I found the sight extremely erotic. He climbed onto the bed, mounted her and then began to fuck her with slow, deliberate thrusts, while he gently caressed her exposed bottom and thighs; and as his excitement mounted his fucking became more passionate, almost frenzied. He grabbed handfuls of fur around her shoulders and began to pummel his hips into her and her soft moaning turned to violent shouts and entreaties. She raised herself on her hands and her breasts swung out from the open coat and the pearls hanging from her nipples shone like droplets of lustrous semen as they rocked violently, beguilingly, back and forth, in time with his thrusts.

I could now feel the heat from their bodies, the warmth from their breath. The smell of sex filled the room. The noise, the heat, the movement, began to cloy my senses; I found it difficult to stay still. Their mouths were now hanging open as they panted and grunted whilst he crashed into her from behind, and then he let out a strangled cry; the veins on his neck standing out, his face, red and twisted, his hips pressed fully into her rear, his belly tight against her buttocks. He stayed like this for several seconds as though the suction of her cunt had sealed him to her and then he buckled, panting and exhausted, and fell back on the bed. She lay there, breathing heavily, her head resting on the sheets, her bottom still raised.

“My God,” she said, “that was wonderful.”

I didn’t think so. I thought they looked like two dogs; a bitch in heat with an old mongrel. The image amused but then unsettled and alarmed me as similar images, quite unbidden, began to flood my mind. Two fucking dogs were joined by a myriad of other canines; a dog with a bone, a mad dog, an old dog, dogs running, snarling, whelping, panting, barking; fucking mad dogs, barking. I felt anxious then panicky, I let out a high pitched cry as the images crowded my mind, overwhelming and maddening me.

“What was that?” said the woman, suddenly alert.

He peeled off her blindfold and she looked across at me, directly into my eyes. And then she smiled.

“Oh, you are beautiful!”

“I thought you’d like her.”

She came across and stroked my head. I bit her.

“Ow, you spiteful animal!”

He laughed. “She’s very possessive I’m afraid, but I love her to bits. I like to think she’s the reincarnation of an Egyptian princess.”

The woman settled back on the bed and the two lovers caressed each other and he kissed her bitten hand.

The cat watched them, disdainfully, imperiously and with a little contempt. She lay back and stretched. She was bored with their antics. She didn’t like people; they were stupid, smelly and irritating. And they lacked style. The man who thought he owned her was a case in point.