It was a dark winter's night in the city of Springfield and in the neighborhood of Evergreen Terrace, with the exception of doghouse in the backyard of the famous Simpson family residence...
Santa's Little Helper sensually licked the nape of Snowball II's neck as he thrusted inside of her pussy, the cat yowling in pleasure as he slowly pulled in and out of her repeatedly, taking his time before he increased his thrusts.
Snowball II purred seductively as she dug her claws in the doghouse's wooden floors, her body rocking with each of Santa's Little Helper's thrusts, his paws wrapped around her waist, content with the dog's red rocket docking into her station repeatedly and rapidly, enjoying the way it fitting inside of her.
Santa's Little Helper bit down on Snowball II's neck as he kept thrusting inside of her, not content with her running off and making this a one time thing, unlike the New Years Eve Incident, His panting becoming heavy with each pump into the cat's uterus, loving the feeling his balls slapping against her tight little ass and of it smooching her cervix before it finally smashed through it, filling her womb full of the greyhound's semen.
Feeling his knot coming on, the greyhound got off of Snowball and tyed himself to her, his balls drained of all their semen, some of it dripping onto the floor.
After the high of their sexcapade subsided, Snowball and Santa's Little Helper kissed each other, intertwining their tongues and held each other close for a good long while before the cat moaned and pushed her rump against the dog's cock, signaling that she wanted to go another round.
Obliging her request, the greyhound pushed his penis back inside of Snowball and proceed to hump her brains out 6 or 7 times before climaxing and falling backwards onto the doghouse floor, worn out and panting while she cleaned herself off and cuddled beside him, purring up a storm in heavenly bliss...
Marge stared blankly at the computer screen, flabbergasted at what she just read, appalled by the erotic content within, grossed out by the explicit detail of her pet's proclivities, she picked her brain to come up with a reason why someone would write such a disgusting story about the private lives of her family's pets...then, it suddenly clicked.
" Homey! " she called out to her oaf of a husband, who was digging into the fridge for his usual midnight snack.
" What Marge? " Homer whined from the kitchen, shutting the refrigerator door and sulking into the living room, a Duff beer in one hand and a pizza slice in his mouth.
" Come into the living room this instant! " Marge demanded in her usual nagging tone of voice.
" What did I do now? " Homer moaned, already dreading his wife's reprimands. " I told Flanders I'll return his hedge clippers when I'm done with them. "
" Yet you never return his things when he asks for them! " Marge pointed out.
" Because I'm such a good neighbor..." Homer said smugly as he chowed down on his pizza and took a sip of his beer, his wife groaning her trademark groan in response. " What are you yelling at me for this time? "
" I was reading this reprehensible story about our pets and the debauchery..." Marge explained. " Homey, did you write this story? " she asked inquisitively, having noticed the username " DUFFDONUTMAN1978 " beside the story's title, not needing to guess any further on whom.
Homer took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh from his mouth, knowing that the cat was out of the bag.
" Yes, it was me, I wrote the story Marge. Santa's Little Helper is always by the cat's side everyday, you noticed it too! " Homer told her. " You did say once they needed a wedding~ "
" Yes Homer, but just because two animals live together, doesn't mean that they're together-together! " Marge told him.
" Like Lisa and that wiener, Milhouse? " Homer added, chuckling to himself. " Mmmm...wieners! "
" That poor kid needs to move on and take a hint, Lisa's just not interested in him! " Marge sighed in sympathy. " I'm worried for the little guy and his sanity, I hope he'll won't grow up to be one of those obsessed psychos you hear about on the news! "
" He'll grow out of it Marge, don't worry! " Homer said as he downed the last swig of his Duff. " As they say, there's always other three-eyed-fish in the sea! "
" Awww, That's real sweet of you to say, Homer. Now, let's go to bed, okay? " Marge yawned tiredly as she turned off the computer, getting up and cracking her back.
" Lead the way, baby! " Homer growled as he gave his wife a nice smack of her rump, inciting a playful squeal from her. " That reminds me, I have noticed that Bart talking an awful lot about his teacher, Mrs Krabappel..." he thought as the rusted gears in his head turned.
