Sleep Now...More Later

Betsy seems a little relieved when you suggest sleep. After all, the two of you are physically wiped out. You're surprised that you and she were able to do as much as you did. Possibly the effects of Betsy's milk? Whatever the case, you and Betsy snuggle and smooch softly until you both sleep, you with your head against Betsy's giant milk-pillows. Some time later, through a haze of sleep, you feel the bed move as Betsy rises.

"Just sleep, my beloved master," you hear her whisper, "I'll make us some supper."

"Mkay," you mumble dozily, "Luv you."

You feel her plant a soft kiss on your cheek before she goes. That's all you can remember before waking fully a little later. You feel refreshed, on top of the world actually, and you smell the wonderful aroma of cooking pizza. Betsy is making you home-made pizza! You grin wide and thank God before rising. You consider putting on a robe or something, but figure Betsy won't mind you walking around in the buff. You walk to the kitchen and see that beautiful cow-girl cooking, humming, and doing a hip-swinging dance that shakes her big lush rear. She's actually wearing a frilly purple apron and you begin to wonder idly if Animorph has a lingerie division for the animal-girls.

Thinking this over, you pick up your mail from under the mail slot and find your question answered. In your hand is a lingerie catalog with Betsy's body in mind. There's also a section for evening gowns and the reason becomes apparent with the next piece of mail, an invitation to a function called The Wild Kingdom Ball, a formal gathering for masters and their animal-girls as their dates to dance and mingle and just get to know each other. Could be fun, and you'd love to see Betsy in an evening gown. Another piece of mail is a bit more sleazy, a porn company offering quite a sum of money for footage of masters and animal-girls in their bedroom activities. You almost throw this one away, but decide it could be fun if Betsy's interested, but you aren't about to make her do anything she doesn't wish to. With that, you set them on the table and enter the kitchen where Betsy has more or less finished cooking, but still hums and bounces about.

"Hey, Hot-Stuff," you say playfully, "Can I have this dance?"

Initially, Betsy blushes as you pull her into a little jitterbug, but she obviously enjoys it. She's growing to be less embarrassed and enjoy more how affectionate you are with her. Then you just embrace her, kissing her unhurriedly.

"Hungry, master?" she asks.

"Ravenous," you say, "you?"

"Starving," she admits.

"Well, I smell that incredible pizza," you say, "Shall we manja?"

At first you consider eating at the table, but a big wooden barrier between you doesn't appeal. So, you and Betsy decide to eat Roman-style, lounging together on the couch, feeding each other pizza, and generally having a lovely time. You have your respective drinks, although you take a sensuous sip from one of Betsy's teats from time to time, and when a little sauce falls on you, Betsy shyly licks it off with her long broad tongue. All this sensuous eating and playing around is turning you both on something fierce and there's lots more you'd like to try with Betsy. Seeing how she'd feel about oral on you, maybe try a sixty-nine, maybe even taking her anal virginity. Possibly find some whipped cream and make dessert of each other. Despite her shyness, Betsy seems keen to try new things. Also, you'd like to get her two cents on the mail you got.