A few days later on Monday, you find yourself sitting in the backseat of a taxi next to your holstaurus girlfriend on your way to meet her family. You didn’t have to pack much for the trip, only the heavier snow-appropriate clothing that you were planning on using taking up a lot of space. The monster girl sitting next to you on the other hand decided that she needed her entire wardrobe with her. This of course meant that she had asked you to help pack all of it, although it wasn’t too bad as you got to look at some of her more ‘delicate’ clothing.
More than once Emily caught you staring at either herself or her underwear that she asked you to put in the bag, which earned you both a nasty slap on the wrist and empty hands, or a shirt thrown in your face. Sometimes both. With the last of her undergarments needing to be packed, she called out your name and when you looked in her direction your vision was clouded with a colossal and profoundly lacy and arousing deep purple brassiere. Struggling to take it off, you hear the lingerie’s owner giggling before walking over to help remove it from your face, and when it is taken away your field of view is filled with Emily’s gorgeous visage.
“For later.” is all you hear her whisper after leaning in to give you a peck on the lips, winking afterwards.
The taxi ride to her parents’ house is enjoyable, and you snuggle up against her shoulder and wrap one arm around her. More than once you glance over in her direction to look at, and occasionally down, her cleavage as the seatbelt she’s wearing pushes her shirt deep into the valley between her breasts. Teasing you yet again, she grabs your dangling hand and brushes it up against her chest and through the bottomless gap between her tits agonizingly slowly before letting your hand rest on top of one of those glorious melons, and all you get when you look at her is a mischievous grin.
A few hours later it’s snowing lightly and you arrive in front of a large house in the suburbs. A few large oak trees dominate the lush front lawn, and several smaller shrubberies dot the side of the path up to the front porch where the two meet together right next to an impressive flower garden. Helping Emily remove her luggage from the trunk of the car, you pay the cab driver before turning around to face the long, imposing driveway up to the front of the house. Well not entirely help her with her bags, you did all the work while she stood there.
“Nervous?” you grunt, lugging your one bag and her two overstuffed ones up the walkway.
“Maybe a little, I don’t know. Never really done this before.” Emily replies.
“What, your past relationships never got to the boyfriend-meeting-the-girlfriend’s-parents stage before?”
“Well, not exactly.”
“Are you saying that I’m your first real boyfriend?” you ask her.
“K-kinda.” she whispers, grinding her hoof into the wood porch.
“Well don’t worry about a thing. I’ll be the best first boyfriend you’ll ever have!”
The cowgirl smiles before hugging you again, making you drop the heavy suitcases with a loud *thud*, one of which landed on your foot. Exhaling heavily, she rolls her shoulders once before pressing the doorbell. You can hear the chime echo through the house, and soon after it rapid hoof steps come closer and closer to the door before the large wood panel is swung open by Emily’s youngest sibling.
“Oh my god, biggest sis you’re here!” she cries out before rushing forward to give Emily an excessively violent hug.
“Hey there littlest sister, where’s everyone else?” Emily responds in kind, scooping up the young holstaurus in her arms.
“Oh they’re inside. Mommy asked me to get the door, saying it was probably you and your new BOYfriend.” Emily’s sister says, looking at you. “Why don’t you listen to me big sis? I told you boys were icky and gross.”
“Yeah, well, you’ll change your mind when you’re older. Trust me.” Emily replies, letting her sister go to run back in the house and receiving a ‘NUH-UH!’ in the process.
“Kids.” you quip, and you and Emily chuckle lightly as you pick the heavy bags back up to bring them inside.
The small door betrays the magnificent entry way behind it: vaulted ceiling, natural walnut wood flooring, elegant staircase leading up to the second story, and sparkling chandelier. There’s several brass hooks along part of the left wall, some of which have coats already on them. Below the hooks sits a bench to sit down on so shoes can be tied more easily, although you presume it’s only used by Emily’s father since he’d only be the one to wear them. The rest of the free space on the walls is taken up by dozens of family photos of Emily, her three sisters, and her parents.
“Come on Anon, stop standing around.” the cowgirl says, and she leaves you to walk deeper into a currently unknown part of the house.
Looking around, you shrug and set the three bags down near the door, and follow your girlfriend. You’re impressed by how well the small outside can hide how large the rooms are. Each room has plenty of space to run around in, and the high ceiling is easily three feet above you, if not more. Rounding the corner, you enter the carpeted open living room and tiled open kitchen area. Two incredibly comfortable lazy chairs sit on either side of a long, plush couch, and more pictures are on the walls. Above the crackling fire up on the mantle you think you spy a picture of Emily’s parents in their wedding attire among the half dozen other family photos. Speaking of Emily’s parents, the holstaurus hears you walking in and turns around from giving what you presume to be her mother a hug.
To say her mother is good looking would be an understatement. Sure, you consider it to be indecent to do so and you’re slightly ashamed to admit it, but you can’t help but stare a little. She’s about a foot taller than Emily, a few inches more than that if you count her horns. Her long, wavy brown hair is slightly brighter than Emily’s, and it has a few noticeable gray strands in it as well. Her motherly face is dominated by two sparkling green eyes, and her soft lips are curved upwards in a light smile. Moving your eyes lower, you can’t help but notice how ENORMOUS her breasts are under her turtleneck sweater. They’re quite a fair bit bigger than Emily’s, and by your comparison between Emily and her you’d say her mother would wear something in the range of possibly an M-cup, if bras that big were affordable, so instead her mother isn’t wearing one. Moving even lower, you catch just the slightest bit of pudge and love handles, not enough to repulse someone but rather to make them admire the lovely curves of her lower torso. Her tremendous hips easily tell anyone who looks in her direction that she definitely has it where it counts, and her thighs and rear end are sized very appropriately for someone like her. Her thick thighs easily draw your attention to her shapely legs that are covered by the loose pants she’s wearing, and even though you can’t see it you’re pretty sure her ample backside wobbles enticingly wherever she walks.
“Well hi there dear, you must be Emily’s boyfriend, Anon.” her mother says, her vast bosom swaying back and forth as she saunters over to you and gives you a friendly hug and a peck on the cheek. It’s difficult, but you somehow manage to wrap your arms around her and touch your hands together.
“God mom, stop embarrassing me.” Emily says.
“Oh quit it, you. You haven’t been home in a few years, I think I’ve earned the right to make fun of you in front of other people, especially your new boyfriend.”
“Mom!” Emily pouts, stamping her hoof on the floor and blushing a little at the same time.
“Oh fine, be that way.” Emily’s mother retorts. “Dear! Emily’s home! She’s also brought her friend along too!” she shouts to someone you can’t see.
“Alright I’ll be right out Kara!” a deep male voice calls out from somewhere in the house. Your heart sinks lower and lower in your chest as the heavy footfalls draw nearer, dreading what’s about to come next. You instantly recognize the burly older gentleman rounding the corner as your monster girl girlfriend’s father.
If you said you weren’t uneasy you’d be lying. Sure he’s human, but that doesn’t make him any less imposing. Her father is just a few inches taller than you, but the way he carries himself makes him seem all that much taller. If you had to pick only one word to describe Emily’s father, it would be ‘lumberjack’. He has everything one would need to be a proper outdoorsman: red plaid shirt, well-worn loose fitting jeans, bulky arms with plenty of hair on them, wide shoulders and muscled torso, scruffy graying beard, lumberjack ushanka, the works. The only things that are missing are a timber axe hung from his belt and sleeping all night and working all day.
“Oh god, not you too dad.” Emily groans, hiding her face in her hands.
All her father does is glance in her direction before looking back to you, crossing his arms in front of his chest and frowning slightly.
“So.” the man in front of you says gruffly. “I hear my lovely daughter has a boyfriend now. That wouldn’t be YOU, would it?”
“Uh, y-yes, actually sir, y-yes, I-I am her boyfriend.” you stutter.
Emily’s father’s eyes continues to bore a hole straight through you, and you start to sweat under the pressure. What feels like minutes pass as he persists in his silent interrogation before his frown turns upside down and he clasps a meaty paw hard on your shoulder, nearly dislocating it, and everyone in the room except you starts laughing.
“I’m just messin’ with you son. I’m sure you’ll be a fine boyfriend for my daughter.” he chuckles. You exhale wearily, glad that the torture at the hands of Emily’s father is over. You tense up again as his expression darkens once more as he leans in to tell you something else.
“But if you EVER mistreat my dear Emily,” he starts, jabbing a finger into your sternum, “I swear I will end you right there and then.” Emily and her parents laugh even harder at your expense as her father pranks you for the second time in less than two minutes.
You spend a few hours talking with Emily and her family, introducing yourself when her two younger twin sisters come down from their rooms wondering what all the commotion is. Looking out the window you spot that it’s snowing even harder now. There’s plenty of it on the ground, more than enough for some outdoor shenanigans, and you mention this to Emily’s youngest sister who becomes quite ecstatic at the idea of playing outside. Of course this means that her father will have to come out and supervise the youngster. He glares at you, and you simply shrug in response, but quickly change your mind when he his mouth starts growing into a sly grin. He nudges Emily in the shoulder and points outside, and she also grins quite wickedly. Oh well, at least you brought some proper clothing along.
Of course since you don’t have to struggle with digitigrade legs, hooves for feet, and oversized mammaries like Emily or helping an eight year old holstaurus into snow pants and a snow jacket like her father, you’re the first one outside. Practically everything is coated with a thick white frosting of snow, and if you had to define silence or peace, this would be it. NOTHING is making any sound at all other than the falling snow, and you step out into the ankle-deep snowpack and just breathe in the tranquility of it all. Of course this doesn’t last more than five minutes as the two cowgirls and their father join you.
“Hey Anon!” Emily calls out behind you. You turn around and are immediately hit in the face with a snowball, and when you clear your face, your girlfriend is pointing down towards her youngest sister, who’s grinning widely and holding a snowball of her own. Of course now that you have more warning, you easily dodge the next frozen orb that’s thrown at you and you spring up from your clever feint, your own weapon at the ready.
All-out war breaks out between you and Emily’s family, holstauri and father on one side and you on the other. Of course all’s fair in love and war, and with practiced ease Emily joins your assault on her dad and little sister. No one really wins, although Emily’s sister claims that she did. With Backyard War II over and the peace treaties signed, the two factions reconcile their differences and start making snowmen and snow angles instead. What seems like hours later, Emily’s mother calls the four of you in for the evening meal.
“Hope you guys like dinner!” Emily’s mother exclaims, beaming proudly and still wearing a stained apron over her sizable front. “I’m sure everyone here knows what this is by now, except for you Anon. It’s actually the very first meal Emily’s father cooked for me when we first started dating, although it’s still not as good as when he makes it.” she finishes with a smile, affectionate hug, and peck on the lips for her husband.
Emily groans out yet again as her parents embarrass her in front of you, and it turns out this ‘first meal’ is just a simple chicken alfredo dish with fettucine noodles, but it’s still one of the best ones you’ve had. Knives, forks, and spoons clatter against plates as you and the six-person family seated with you dig into the tasty food. Dessert comes a few minutes after everyone finished in the form of a delectable chocolate cake, apparently hand-made by Emily’s mother. It doesn’t matter to you if the cake was store-bought or home made because you’re too busy wolfing down the sweet moist pastry slab. The rest of the evening is spent on the couch in front of a roaring fire under a blanket with Emily and a mug of hot chocolate with marshmallows, her family all sitting around you idly chatting about life.