Marigold did not participate, she was having a difficult time enough as it was fending off Bronte's over amorous attacks on her. What began innocently enough with just a little nip here and there as he passed by her as he paced in wide circles, started to scale up measurably. As she ate and tried to carry on decent conversations with the family, time and again, he would come up behind her and try to grab her off the chair. She fended him off well enough, a good natured slap from her would send him reeling to the floor. Then he changed his tactics. He waited, pacing around the table, until she was fully engaged in a heavy discussion with Rose about her work at the Zoo. Talking about her work in the Captive Breeding Program was exceedingly important to her and so she was giving Rose her full attention. Unable to stand her pheromone onslaught any longer, Bronte leaped on the table, sliding everything out of his way between him and her. Grabbing her around her arms, so she couldn't fight him off, he dragged her to the wall near the door, pushed her face into the carpet. She didn't struggle as he laid on her back, moved her hair aside and bit her hard. He reached between them from behind her, lifted her ass in the air, pushed her dress up around her waist, ripped open her pantyhose, unzipped his jeans and plunged his painfully hard cock right in her. The family was up quickly, chairs loudly falling away. The Meat, hearing the broken dishes and chaos that ensued, banged on the door furiously. Marigold held up a hand to look up at the family. “I'm okay.” She said, “We're okay.” Bronte was not moving, just held her by his teeth in her neck, his dick in her pussy. But he was growling loudly. “He's not hurting me. He'll release me in a minute.” Growling louder, Bronte's body shuddered a couple of times, then suddenly disengaging his fangs from her, he looked around like he didn't know where he was. He licked the blood trickle from her neck, then backed off her, smoothing her clothes. He looked like he was going to cry. She turned around, crawled into his lap and held him. “It's okay,” she soothed him, “we're okay.” She stood up and walked over to the table. The half dozen Meat who were serving them, although not sure what to make of all of this, continued to clean up quickly. They were anxious to get on the floor and have at some of the guests. “I'm in estrus.” Marigold said, filling up a fresh plate for Bronte and herself. “You're in what?” Will said, stunned stupid. “Once a year, usually in the Springtime, I become fertile.” “Oh, you're in heat.” Austen said, laughing. Dahlia thwapped him over the head with her napkin. |
| MARIGOLD AND BRONTE |
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