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“Good boy, Brucie! Good boy!” I encouraged him, ruffling his neck. “Mommy's turn this time!” And with a tongue-lolling doggie grin, he finally made his move, jumping up onto Mom's back and starting to thrust himself at her. She gasped in some combination of surprise, doubt, and fear, and I took her hand in mine, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “Try to get a little lower, if you can,” I advised her. “If you let him get all four paws on the ground he'll be way less likely to scratch you with his claws. It'll feel better, too, if you give him more leverage for thrusting.” She did as I said, lowering her hips and pressing those huge, hanging tits firmly into the carpet, her eyes clenched closed as she waited for it to happen. Bruce was having a little trouble finding his mark, as he always did, so I reached in under her with my other hand and spread her thick, meaty lips with my fingers. That got it done, her eyes popping wide as that hot doggie cock finally slid inside. His claws scratched at the carpet as he tried to reposition himself, giving himself one more deep, forceful drive into her depths.

“Yeah,” her dad continued, “I didn’t sleep as good as last night either, not bad, but definitely not feeling as chipper as yesterday,” he finished with a shrug.

Noah started with one finger, sending his mana surging through the muscle fibers, and soon could lift it. He could still feel the headband trying to restrict him, but now he could push back. He did the same to his other fingers, soon gaining full control of his hand. The effort required was considerable, but this manner of controlling his mana was not dissimilar to how he could control his clone. Rather than something he would wear like a disguise, he simply had to think of his clone as something that existed within him, under his skin.