Tomboy Wifwolf

You and your wifwolf are mid-coitus.
She's a tall, proud, and ferociously tomboy wolf.
She's the kind of gal who can drink you under the table, is up bright and early on the first day of hunting season, and can fix a trashed diesel engine in a single afternoon.
All in all, your dream woman. Er, wolf. Dream wolf.
She's getting close and so are you.
In a corny moment, you try to say something sexy right before you bust, but an intrusive thought hits. "Babe, you'd made a wonderful mom."
Wifwolf freezes and begins to shudder at your worlds, and for a second you fear you misspoke. A tomboy like her doesn't think of motherhood often, right?
Then she throws her head back and screams in ecstasy, not even having the presence of mind to howl as the most extreme orgasm of her life rocks her. That wolf cookie grips you hard and milks you for EVERY drop.
You nut so hard that you almost pass out.
That's when you learned that yes, tomboy wifwolves do think about motherhood.
Your wife in particular thinks about it a LOT.

After a long and trying labor, wifwolf gives birth to your daughter.
Your wife has a tender expression of wonder and pride on her face, holding the swaddled pup close.
Your daughter's thin fur is the exact same shade as your hair, and during the few times she blinked open her eyes, you saw they weren't yellow or red, but a distinctly human blue.
She's been a fussy thing, as any scent that wasn't your wife's prompted the pup to cry.
"Go on, Anon," your wife smiles. It's an exhausted expression, but your proud wifwolf remains awake despite how sorely you know she wants to sleep. "Touch her. Don't worry about upsetting her."
Slowly, you reach out a hand and caress your daughter's cheek, feeling your eyes sting with unshed tears as you do. The flood of emotion is... Chaotic, overwhelming, beyond words.
You and the love of your life made this perfect creature.
The baby fur is soft, softer than anything you've ever felt.
The dozing infant's muzzle twitches, scenting the air with a painfully sensitive nose. She squirms and your heart leaps into your throat... then she calms. A grabby paw reaches up and seizes your thumb, then she returns to slumber, content as can be.
Your wife snorts quietly. "I told you not to worry,"
You roll your eyes and gently begin to pull your hand back... but a very canine whine escapes your daughter's muzzle as that grabby paw pulls you back. You don't resist at all, and your hand returns to being her pillow.
...You're going to be here for a while, arent you?
Your wifwolf smirks. "Two hours old and already a daddy's girl," she clicks her tongue. "The old human-wolf magnetism at work again, eh?"
You just smile awkwardly.
"You nerd..." your wife smiles. It's a gentle one you think you're going to be seeing more often. "C'mere..."
With the hand not holding your daughter, your wife grabs a fistful of your shirt and drags you into a chaste muzzle-to-mouth kiss.
Life is good... and it's only going to get better.