Hoshor Plains [m] what you want is what you get

The boy fell silent apart from a sneer. Good.  It had surprised Lavakho that Zoratto stayed planted to the spot, but perhaps he was enjoying the show.  Nevertheless it didn't matter, as the captive coyote had ensnared Lavakhos complete attention.  The boy and his warning became simply an afterthought, leaving the curvature of the coyote's form and her yelps of pleasure to cloud the forefront of Lavakho's lustful mind.  "Shhhhhh," he hushed over her whines.  "We shouldn't wake brother."  Although it wasn't the first time he had taken a coyote slave, to which his brother already knew, he knew Rakharo would't approve of his perversions.

She writhed and squirmed under his weight.  It was a wonder that she still stood with stable footing.  How her lanky, coyote legs were able to support the monstrous form of Lavakho atop her, he hadn't a clue. But, the most curious thing of all was... she seemed to be liking it.  Her hips rocked back in tandem with Lavakho's as they both worked together toward their one common goal.  His slow, deliberate strokes began to speed up and increase in force as his body began to tense up.  His knees shook under him and his face contorted in pleasure as he finally reached release inside the coyote.

He withdrew with heavy breath and slumped to the ground.  Rolling on to his side, he let out a long and winded yawn.  "Now, clean me," he softly commanded while lifting a leg to expose himself to the coyote.