Strange Relationship
#9 of Fae's Christmas Music-Themed Special!
Heya furballs, and welcome back to Fae's Christmas Music-Themed Special! The shutdown of Yiffstar and the boot-up of SoFurry has prevented me from uploading these stories as I planned on the week leading up to Christmas Day, but that doesn't mean anything! All that's happened is that these stories have been delayed, and that delay is now over! The special is up, and this year's batch of stories based on music I particularly enjoy is go!
Today, on December 29th 2009, this third of these five stories is uploaded to both SoFurry and Fur Affinity. On the 30th there will be one more short story uploaded in the series. On the 31th however, a longer story will go up. It was meant for Christmas Day, but what can you do? It'll continue Cameron and Ryan's story from last year's 25th upload, and I hope you find it enjoyable!
But I've waffled on quite enough, I think. These stories have been delayed enough; it's time to read! Read on, celebratory furs, and enjoy!
- Ol' Saint Fae
Strange Relationship
I knew it was coming from the angry phonecall I received while I was at work. Robert was up in arms about something again, as he all-too-often was. He'd come home from a week visiting his family, and found our home a mess. The bastard had taken it upon himself to call me up and lecture me about the merits of keeping the house in a decent state when he wasn't around, and when the call ended he'd promised to continue the discussion when I got home. Continue the argument, more like it.
The wolf had no room to complain. He had a comfortable existence, and he claimed to enjoy being my boyfriend. He sure never complained about the sex, if nothing else. He earned a fraction of what I did, but it was enough to keep him living with me. I cared about him, even though he strained me to my absolute, goddamn limits a couple times a week. Maybe he's got a temper problem. Maybe I'm a bit more of a fuckup than I think I am. Maybe it's just what happens when two male lupines get involved with each other. Fucked if I know. Fucked if I know sometimes why I even keep putting up with the shit.
There was always something that grated on his nerves. If he was home, it was that I wasn't spending enough time with him. If I was home, it was that I wasn't working hard enough. If I did the housework, it was that I left him no way to match me in our relationship. If I left it for him, it was that I made him work his tail off as my maid. Huh. Maybe I should get him a French maid's outfit next time he does that, and tie him down while I put it on. Might get bit for my trouble. Would be worth it, though.
He was waiting for me when I pulled open the front door. His arms were folded across his bare chest; his lower half was covered only by a pair of denim shorts, but his deep brown fur was visible from the waist up. Amber eyes stared me down, his ears flattened as he began to open his muzzle to speak. It always started the same. He always said, "So, let's continue this, then." You know, as if I had any say at all in the matter. Never, "Do you want to continue our earlier discussion?" Not once was it, "Are you interested in talking about our issue today?"
I just shouldered my way past him. I wasn't in the mood to deal with the shit he'd stirred up, but then he wasn't in the mood to let me get away with whatever preconceived notion of wrongness I'd gone and done. So he followed me into the kitchen as I got myself a glass of water, and immediately began to lay into me about the state of the house. I dunno exactly how we got to the topic so fast; I was more interested in a drink than hearing Rob's complaints.
Now, c'mon. I have a long drive to and from work every day. I spend most of the day by myself, but interrupted constantly to tend to the various, myriad fuck-ups of those I supervise. I tend to their problems and mistakes, and rarely have the time to tend my own projects. Work demands too much of my time, most of the time. And yet here's Robert, who spent the week on vacation to see his folks, who comes back in through the door and immediately notices that the floor hasn't been vacuumed. He points out that I didn't clean the toilet since he did it last. He mentions the dishes in the sink, rather than on the counter, where he likes them. Fucking hell, there was space there! I don't have the time in the day to deal with these little bothers unless they become more urgent. Most days I just wanna slump down into bed and curl up for a while. With Rob, you can imagine how often that happens.
He keeps going, keeps arguing. I drain the glass and hit the tap for some more; a forty-five minute drive can be dehydrating if half that time is city-center driving. Some people... and still, Rob keeps chewing me out. It's like he either doesn't know how tough it is to keep my damn muzzle quiet, or he just enjoys venting his frustrations on me. The fuck did I do to deserve that, huh? Nothing that I can think of, anyway!
Shit, then he saw my ears go down. Now he's really pissed. Well fuck, so am I! I get off work after a day helping Jennifer recover a month-long project that was going down the tubes and listening to Russel's piss-poor jokes, and I come home to a ranting boyfriend now infuriated that I'm pissed at his anger! I slammed the glass down on the counter and turn on him. Fucking glad the glass didn't break; last thing I need is spilled blood right now. Course, if Robbie keeps pushing it, he might finally find the limits to my patience.
I tore right back into him. Oh, you better fucking believe I tore into him. I cover it all, from his constant complaints to his distant nature to his refusal to meet me half-way on any-fucking-thing. I got right up in his face and all but yelled it down at him. Don't need to worry about the neighbours; after the fourth time they called the cops for a domestic disturbance, they learned that this is just how we are. I think they wonder even more than I do why we're still together. Can't say I blame 'em, really. Right then I kinda wanted to take that wolf's neck in both paws and give it a nice tight squeeze.
Found some sort of restrained in the moment, though, even though he started trying to yell over the top of me. He might be a bit smaller than me, but fuck the boy can yell. He'd raise his voice, mine'd get louder, and on and on we'd go. Tells me I gotta meet him halfway. I tell him he's gotta stop berating me for everything. He tells me I gotta stop getting pissed when he's expressing himself. I tell him he's gotta 'express' himself at a more reasonable decibel level, and with a little more respect to get anywhere. He calls me a smartass. I call him a fucking whore.
That shuts him up. It always does. The argument's done when I call him a whore. It's not a chapter of his life Rob's proud of, but bringing it up gets the job done in short order. If things ever get out of control between us, that's the point I use to wrap it all up. He can't fight after that blow. TKO. He's fucked. He recoiled when I said it, too. Felt a bit of satisfaction from that when I saw it, and that bloomed a bit bigger when his tail tucked down between his legs. No, I don't get off on his emotional hurts, but damned if I wasn't so fucking angry that I didn't take some pleasure in seeing him back down so quickly. Trust me; when he gets riled up at my getting riled up, all arguments reach that point.
He calls me a bastard for bringing it up, and that's fine. It's true. I take the blow and agree with him, and he gets a bit of fire back for a moment. He insults my mother, I just growl at him. He shuts his fat muzzle then before my fist puts a hole in it. If I'm extending the proverbial olive branch, I don't want him to take it and hit me with it. He gave a quick sorry afterwards, which is the first step. Always is. He apologizes for the snap after I made a concession, and then for his yelling. Good, we got somewhere. I apologized for yelling, too. Course, I also told him that he made me, by yelling at me from the start. Why in the hell he couldn't just talk civilly with me about these things is so far beyond me it makes my head spin.
We were both panting by that point. A good, heated argument really gets the blood pumping, you know? Course, so does a bad, heated argument. Started by an ill-tempered little brat of a lupine. Ugh. He accepted the comment and apologized for it. I stopped for a moment to catch my breath and slow my heart down. Anger's gone, don't need the adrenaline. Urge to kill fading, as it were. I watched Rob try to do the same, probably with about as much success as me. Secondary side effect to increased blood-flow wasn't exactly helping matters much, either.
Can't help it, he says. I believe him; I can't either, for that matter. The bulge in his jeans is a bit bigger than it usually is. Argument got him so worked up that he was getting hard. He doesn't know why it happens any more than I know why it happens to me, too. Doesn't help when you don't wear underwear of any kind, and your work pants grind against your bits in a particularly nice way when you're jerking about and making argumentative gestures. Course, this sorta thing's a problem when you're alone. When there's another hard guy nearby, the choice is pretty damn obvious. There's a real simple way to ease that sudden, inconvenient need, after all.
I was still close enough to just grab him and turn him around. He didn't fight the quick motion at all. I guess he's been in the situation with me enough times that he knows what's coming. Even when I squeeze one of his hips, I'm unzipping my pants. Rob's got it figured out by then completely, and he started to yank his own shorts down. Not all the way; I pushed him up against the counter hard enough that he had to pull his paws back up before they got stuck. I slipped my legs between his and pulled them as wide as I could, and the waist of his pants caught on his knees as his tail flicked up slightly. Heh. For all the aggressive shit he gets into with me over the house, or this, or that, he's just a good little bitch when you get him under control. I don't really know what he thinks of that. I don't really care.
I ground up under that hiked tail of his and pushed in hard against him a couple times. Didn't push in, though. I was still bone-dry at that point, and the last thing I wanted to do was just tear him open. Pain's not exactly our thing on either side. So I just pressed in for a minute, ground up between his cheeks and humped up against his tailbase. I caught a moan from him once when my tip caught for a moment on his hole, and I grinned. For all the bitching he gave me, making him my bitch sure made up for a hell of a lot of it.
When I finally got a little trickle of pre going, I wasn't about to wait anymore. Grabbed a hold of his waist with one arm while my other paw squeezed my cock, and I just pushed that wet tip right up against his tailhole. Rob's whole body jerked. I think I grinned just a bit wider. Then I just pushed forward, nice and slow and hard and steady, and filled that little bitch right up.
He's a snug fit, I'll give him that. He twitches and writhes while you're working yourself down to the hilt, muscles squeezing and relaxing around your cock until you hit rock bottom. Then it's always the same; he moans, he squeezes tight enough you think he's gonna rip your dick right off, and grinds on back. Pup might not know shit about diplomacy, but his ass sure is agreeable. Sure made me feel better to get halfway in and just drive the last few inches in as hard as I could. Pretty sure it made him feel pretty fucking good, too.
It's hard going, though. Almost-dry cock and a nearly-too-tight ass don't exactly go well unless you're real rough or real gentle. I wasn't in a gentle mood. I still felt a bit of that anger bubbling away in my head, and if I'd felt any inclination whatsoever to take Rob slow and gentle, the memory of how much of an asshole he'd been just stole that desire away. Didn't help his case when he whined and pressed back harder against my hips, and bunched my sheath up against his backside. He didn't want gentle. I didn't want to be gentle.
So I wasn't. Not even slightly. My fingers dug into his side and pulled him back from the counter, and he straightened up while I pressed in as deep inside him as I could go. Then I pushed one paw on his back and shoved him down onto the counter while I pulled back and mostly out of him. He grunted when he hit the hard surface, but moaned right after. Stuffing my cock back into him nice and hard, and then doing it again a second later probably had something to do with it. Robbie was hot and tight and it was hard to give him a hard thrust, but it wasn't gonna stop me. I felt that anger at him rise up, and it just told me to do him harder. I wasn't interested in ignoring such a damn good suggestion.
I held him down against that counter, and I rutted him. There's no other word for it. I fucked him for all I was worth, and that anger from our argument just fuelled the fire. I growled while he moaned, and my balls slapped his with every thrust. There wasn't love in the sex. There's almost never love in our sex. This was fucking, pure and simple. The squeeze of his muscles around my cock was all I was there for. The way I filled him up nice and good was why he stood there, bent over the counter, and took it. He loved it. He loved the way my cock pulsed when I hilted in him. He loved the way my knot stretched him out. He loved my fingers digging into his sides. He loved being rutted and bred. He loved being my bitch too fucking much. And yeah, I loved making him my bitch, too.
He rolled his hips back into me. Just couldn't get enough of my cock filling him up, I guess. Not that I was complaining. How he stayed so tight around my dick is something I don't know, and don't particular care about. All that mattered was that he was there, and I wasn't going to be done with him until I was satisfied. Again and again I stuffed him nice and full, and he moaned for it over and over again. His claws dug marks in the counter's surface even while mine carved furrows in his fur and scratched into his hips. We're not into pain or anything, but it's nice to remind him where his place is.
It's hard to go for endurance when you're at a sprint the whole way. I was pounding Rob's backside so hard I almost didn't notice my knot swelling up fast. He noticed. His moans became tinged with whimpers, even while he pushed back to grind against it when it became too big to be easily pushed up into him. It only slowed me down a bit. I know from experience that once that knot's pushed in, Rob ends it. He just cums right away when he gets it in, and that sets me off. Can't help it. I didn't want to stop; I just wanted to keep fucking that tight little hole. I didn't want to have to be stopped for anything, not even my load pumping up into him. I wanted to make sure he knew he was the bitch.
But I couldn't stop. That voice in my head just kept telling me to do it, to knot him, to stuff that fat plug into his ass and fill him up. I jerkily thrust as hard as I could at him, knot straining at his hole while I leaned over him and growled right in his ear. I bit down hard on the back of his neck and used my weight to push him down harder onto the counter, and I heard him gasp as he met one of my harder thrusts with a sharp jerk back against me at the same time. There was no two ways about it. That knot just popped right in, and instantly he clamped down tight as a vice around it.
He snarled against the countertop as he came, and the last thing in my mind at the time was his load splattering the side of the counter. I was too busy feeling him twitch on my dick. It's like every muscle in his body wrapped around my cock and teased my cum out. I just snarled right back into his neck as I bit down a bit harder and jerked my hips as quick and hard back and forth inside his clenching passage, until a moment later I gripped him tight and started to pump him full. He pushed back up against me, just to make sure that load got shot right down as deep inside him as it could go, just like a good little bitch. I shook while I unloaded all my pent-up frustration into his body, and in the rush of the pleasure I felt all the anger in me drain right out with my seed.
It was a minute or two before either of us could move. My fingers and teeth were both still pressed into his hips and neck respectively, and it was as Rob started to shiver and stir that I just growled deeply into his neck. Immediately he flattened back down against the counter with a whimper, as I ground myself firmly right back against his well-fucked backside. He wasn't going anywhere just yet, after all. He was gonna lay there on the counter and he was going to fucking wait. He wants to be a little bitch when I get home from work, then he's going to wait until my knot goes down enough that I can pull out of him. Then I'm going to breed him again, and maybe once more for good measure.
Maybe then he'd learn his lesson and give me a rest and not treat me like shit. Maybe then we wouldn't have to go through this whole vicious cycle anymore, of argument to sex to argument to sex. Maybe he'll learn enough about how to treat others that we can start to behave like a normal couple.
Hopefully he's a slow learner.
[Listen to Strange Relationship (Darren Hayes) with this Grooveshark link!](%5C)
Strange Relationship lyrics
Do you love me?
Or am I just another trip in this strange relationship?
You push and pull me
And I'm about to lose my mind
Is this just a waste of time?
Keep acting like you own me
I keep running, watch me walking out that door
I hear you behind me
Gimme that strange relationship
Never felt pleasure and pain like this
Something so right but it feels so terribly wrong
I keep holding on
Gimme that strange relationship
One of us gotta let go of this
I keep pushing and you keep holding on
I'm already gone
Do you love me?
We break up and back together
And I swore to myself never
But oh how you do me, yeah
You strip me of my honor
And I don't ever think I'm gonna
Break free of these mind games
All I'm trying to do is modify my plan
'Cause I can't contain you
Gimme that strange relationship
Never felt pleasure and pain like this
Something so right but it feels so terribly wrong
I keep holding on
Gimme that strange relationship
One of us gotta let go of this
I keep pushing and you keep holding on
I'm already gone
You keep acting like you own me
I can't control me
You said you never really wanted me back
Well maybe if that's a fact
May I suggest
A brand new plan of attack
And in defense of that you're hard to crack
You're way off track
I want you back, I want you gone
Maybe I'm sick of holding on
Do you love me?
Or am I just another trip in this strange relationship?
Gimme that strange relationship
Never felt pleasure and pain like this
Something so right but it feels so terribly wrong
I keep holding on
Gimme that strange relationship
One of us gotta let go of this
I keep pushing and you keep holding on
I'm already gone
And there it is! The third story of Fae's Christmas Music-Themed Special 2009 is done! Comments are greatly appreciated, as are scores and favs and the like! Did you enjoy? I hope so! After all, there's still two more stories to go!
Stay tuned, furballs, and take care!