[Web Res] Furry Wife of the Week: Renamon Duo (Covered)

Well, originally, I planned to make this picture with a more MILFy Renamon and a "normal" Renamon. But after sketching a bit, I decided that it's not a very good idea to make, with size difference doesn't really work with asymetrical docking (or at least at my case). So here's the finished picture with a lil bit less of the original idea, but hopefully still good

Short Story

The Unexpected Guest

I’m sprawled across the hotel bed, a sweaty heap of blankets and misery, the distant crash of waves mocking me through the cracked window. The beach is so close I can taste the salt in the air, but I’m trapped here, a prisoner to a cold that’s turned my body into a war zone. My head pounds, my nose won’t stop running, and every muscle screams like I’ve been sparring with Digimon instead of sleeping. This was supposed to be our holiday—our sun-soaked escape—and I’m missing it all.

Renamon’s voice echoes in my mind from earlier today. “Stay in bed,” she’d said, her tone sharp but softened with that quiet care I’ve grown to love. “I’ll scope out the beach and be back soon.” She’d paused in the doorway, sunlight glinting off her yellow fur, wearing that purple micro bikini I can’t stop thinking about. It’s barely there, hugging her curves in all the right places—full hips swaying, generous breasts straining against the fabric. Those purple sleeves she always wears clung to her arms, a familiar touch of her usual style even in that skimpy getup. At home, she’s all casual t-shirts and shorts, sexy in an effortless way, but this beach look? It’s a whole new level, and I’m kicking myself for being too sick to see it in action.

I groan, rolling over, the empty room feeling colder without her. She’s not just my Digimon partner anymore—not just the one I fight beside. Somewhere between the battles and the late-night talks, things changed. Stolen looks became soft touches, and now she’s more like a girlfriend than anything else. I’m still figuring out what that means, but right now, all I know is I miss her, even if she’s only been gone a couple of hours.

Time drags on, and I drift in and out of a feverish fog, imagining her out there—sun on her fur, waves at her feet, that bikini slipping just enough to turn heads. I should be with her, splashing around, stealing kisses in the surf. Instead, I’m clutching a tissue like it’s my last hope, a sweaty mess on a lumpy mattress.

A sharp ping from my phone snaps me out of it. I fumble for it, squinting at the screen through watery eyes. It’s Renamon. My heart skips as I open the message, and then it freezes.

It’s a photo. Renamon’s on the beach, sand dusting her legs, the ocean sparkling behind her. But she’s not alone. Another Renamon is pressed up against her, their bodies so close they’re practically one. This new one’s different—paler fur, blonde hair spilling over her shoulders, a black micro bikini that’s even bolder than Renamon’s. Sleek black sunglasses perch on her nose, giving her a cool, enigmatic vibe. Their breasts are squished together, a deliberate tease, and they’re both smirking at the camera like they know exactly what this’ll do to me.

There’s a video too. I hit play with trembling hands, and their laughter spills out—light, mischievous. The camera shakes as they shift, the blonde whispering something that makes my Renamon giggle. They strike a pose, hips cocked, curves on full display, glancing at me through the lens with a heat I can feel even from here. Then the text pops up: “Hey, I met this girl at the beach. We’re coming back to your room 💜”

I stare at the screen, my breath catching. Another Renamon—rare enough to be a myth—standing there with mine, both of them in barely-there bikinis, heading here? My mind reels, shock slamming into me like a tidal wave. Two of them, together, their fur brushing, those smirks promising chaos—and I’m too stunned to even move.

***