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No Regrets

My story was not always happy. My life seemed to fall apart, only to come back together. In a world where we sentient animals evolved like another race before us, predators will still eat prey. A predator such as myself may look adorable, but I can eat as if there is no tomorrow. I can take hard blows, and I can pack a wallop, but I am not one to pick a fight.

I was close to slumming it up if not for the fateful days that also could have ended my life. Instead, I live in Kingston upon Thames and live on the occasional royalty as well as a cheque for a shooting day. If one thinks that it was easy, they were wrong. My parents were not happy when they learnt that acting was my future ambition. As much as they were willing to pay my credit card bills and the rent for my first apartment, I would fall behind on the rest of things. Over the first year of following an acting curriculum, I worked two part-time jobs to make ends meet.

Almost immediately, I sought out a casting agency and went on a waitlist. I started out with theatre, of course. I watched all the required plays whether I liked them or not. I made every possible note on the Comedy of Manners, Heroic Tragedy, Musical, Realistic Theatre, and Method Acting. Through all that, I had the nagging voice that would repeat, "It's not enough."

Eventually, I had to quit my part-time jobs to catch up with my classes, and I had to weigh my options. At that low point, it happened. One of the talent scouts that I contacted called me back, not caring about my lack of experience. All that I wanted was to be able to make a name for myself. It is all that anyone wants.

The deal would turn out too good to be true after my first audition. My first role was in a soft-porn movie. There my options were: get humiliated in front of millions pleasuring themselves to me, but earn the money that would pay my overdue tuition; rethink my ambitions and change my study, but still owe an outstanding fee, or go home to my parents a disgrace. Maybe it was haughty of me, but the young lady that I was did not want to hear "I bloody well told you". I accepted the lead role. It should have been no surprise that I was still a virgin before the shooting.

As impatient as the crew were, the male lead, a polar bear, wanted time to connect with me. He is eight years my senior, East London-raised. His name is Dmitri "High Bar" Morozov. He showed me how a man makes love, but held off until shooting to get inside me. That also gave me time to consider a performing name. Thinking of the best cookie ever, I would go by Cookie Supreme. When we did get to the shooting, I took my sweet time. That bear saw something in me, for he blew all his lines just by looking at me. My agent must have been embarrassed as hell when the director asked him to get in on the editing. The agreement that they reached was muting the dialogue, for I would swear my mouth off as my co-star treated me as a lover and not as the whore that I felt like.

To me, it all comes down to one question: do I regret it? I did at first, but that went away when I paid off my debt. I wanted to expand my study. So, I returned to the same college for a second year and further studied theatre. I am glad that I did. I might have been popular among the men, but I did not care if it was for the wrong reason. That polar bear would not be the only one speechless around me. Just one look at my black, torpedo-like visage, white running from my lower lip and down my neck, and the two white spots from the corner of my azure eyes, and other men would either stare at me longingly or look away, too shy to speak to me. Even dolphins thought that I was too good for a one-time affair.

Only one man can have me, and I am on the way to his place right now, riding on a bus, and needing only a satchel. I also carry a brown leather handbag with cash, cards, and my cell phone. I wear a loose-fitting sky-blue dress showing off my neckline and half of my back. Chubby as I am, I am attractive to any whale or dolphin. I would challenge anyone to ask me, "What Orca is not cute?" Calling me cute is annoying if I hear it in every sentence addressed to me. The one man that I love more than anyone is not an Orca, but he loves me, which should be all that matters.

I could not stay away from porn for long. I had critical disputes with the next porn in which I performed. It was only a year after that. I sought out Dmitri's previous female co-stars, and the one that returned my call, gave advice for which I asked, without hesitation. It is hard to believe that nobody harassed me on the set. However, that was the least of my problems. Even though I am incompatible for breeding with any mammals, bar cetaceans, I wanted to take no chances. I made sure that the shooting days would be outside my heat cycle. In the case of my second role, shooting began almost instantly. Again, my sex scene had to have music as I swore like a sailor, which was muted out.

After that short movie, I had to make another choice. I was still young, and I still clung to the hope of working at Pinewood. I had a career that I wanted to make. I spent that cheque for the porn, but at an even greater price. Having grown up an only child, my parents would be devastated to learn that they would never be grandparents. They threatened to disown me if I went through with it. Marriages and acting careers do not always blend well. I did the selfish thing.

Then came the question. Do I regret it? My answer: no. I remembered to donate egg cells before the operation, and that was that. Whilst I would act in theatre, practising in the process, it was not long before my next porn gig.

The people that would seek me out wanted and needed young people, and I was both young and cute. So, after my third soft-porn movie role, I would audition for TV, and--after many drafts of terms and conditions--I signed a one-year contract for a show.

That show was on a channel requiring premium cable. And it would not be the only job for a whole year. During the show's hiatus, I would be in a hardcore short, which was the first time, porn viewers would hear me speaking, especially the cursing. That seemed to put me on the porn map. So, shortly after my TV contract ended, I would audition for a full-length X-rated movie filled with sex. The producers must have seen a charm, which I still could not discern. I earned the lead female role. No fetishes; just plain sex. I did ask for close-ups of both my ass and my co-star's ass, close-ups of him massaging my boobs, and close-ups of the penetration. The director was okay with exploring those, but not all made the final cut. I realised when it first became available, my favourite position: riding the man and him rubbing my breasts.

Even my past porn co-stars outside of sets call me by my real name: Marbella Potenza. I have ridden a long way, and everyone in Westminster is sure to recognise me from somewhere. They have not the audacity to interrupt my commute for an autograph or to make me say "Fuck". People of this neighbourhood are quite sophisticated and hold back their energy out of politeness. After a long walk carrying my purse and satchel, I reach my destination: Holland Park Villas.

I walk the road path leading to its front door, staying on edge. The sight of the greenery never gets old. Past the acres of grass, bushes, and the occasional tree is a vast complex of condominiums. My lover has the funds to afford such a lovely living space. I wonder if he is watching me from the balcony of his apartment right now. He must be as eager as I am for us to see each other. Why else would he give me his spare key?

I pay no heed to whoever watches the lobby as I enter from its grand driveway. I just want to take the lift to the top floor, where my lover is. To the top floor I go. The door closes with a click and the machine hums. I suddenly feel my loins burning, just envisioning him as I stand in the small space of four silver walls with a touch screen. My previous visit here was two weeks back, but my visits have been more frequent in the past three months.

Outside of the porn industry, I was a nobody. As hard as I tried for variety, I would be out of work, having realised every performer's nightmare. The directors and producers of real TV and movies could only see the cliché of a High-Class Twit, bratty or gormless, sometimes both. So, when I could not find even a short-term role in drama or comedy, my income decayed.

Both men and women have fawned over me, but I was too stubborn to rely on a friend. I was twenty-two when I was out of work. Too many days went by with me in tears over having failed to land an audition, let alone a role. I lost some blubber when gradually eating less. Eventually, I would stop taking my agent's calls.

Convinced that my career was short-lived, I put together a new resume to apply for labour. Though I did have to move to a cheaper place, I at least made a living as a crew member of a fishing boat. It made me realise how much I should have been at sea. Like everything else, my job didn't last long. My boss was a berk about claiming that I would go rogue. So, instead, I worked a shipping yard. It would keep me active, and I would make money. However, I would quit there, to work at an indoor pool as an instructor.

As chance would have it, someone sought me out like a bloodhound. My agent had to see me personally, to inform me that someone might have a job for me. Now, I was sceptical about it. She was aware that a director considered me for a role. It was with much reluctance, I auditioned. That gave me a two-episode role on a crime show, which led to another audition that I was equally reluctant to take.

The scales shifted my way, for my next role would be in a movie rated BBFC-15. I portrayed the primary antagonist, but she was a fun character to play. I connected to her: she came off as charming and precious, but that conceals her coldness on how others treat her. That was when I turned toward method acting. I raided the buffets on the set and condescended my co-stars.

Though my acting career would still be on hiatus after the movie's release, my agent would occasionally call me. I would later reduce my job at the pool to part-time so that I could audition. Even directors of music videos wanted me. By that time, I would act in commercials, too.

Years passed with hit and misses. I am twenty-eight years old. I have been in only one serious relationship before, and had several short-term boyfriends and girlfriends. My parents might yet still not respect my choices of what I want in life. I never wanted children of my own. I kept looking for job after job.

Do I regret any of that? Hell no. Especially when there is a man in my life who is so considerate for his rough visage. I am at the end of the wing, where the balconies are. At the door is a white page written: "Come on in, Lover." I smile at that. I expect the door to be locked. So, I dig into my handbag for my keychain. I get the correct key on the first try and turn. I turn the key again and eject it before opening the blue door.

I open it to the wonderfully decorative living room. I bring in my things and take the note down before closing the door and locking it. I place my handbag and satchel next to the threshold without looking back. I may never tire of the azure walls decorated with a few framed paintings. The hardwood floor looks as if it has been waxed, brought out by the black carpet where a three-seat leather couch, a wooden coffee table, and a plastic and glass stand supporting a telly are.

Slowly and quietly, I slip my shoes off, and then undo the zip on the back of my dress. I pinch the edge as I lower it to the floor. I lift my feet from it, to pick it up. As quietly, I approach the couch and lay my dress down. My breasts are not the only part of my body that I expose; I bend over, slipping my underpants down, and then lift my legs again from its openings. I stretch my body, standing between the couch and the granite kitchen counter.

Right outside, in front of the glass barrier, my lover stands nonchalantly, his tail swaying. He looks upon the horizon, naked as the day he was born. He is a Siberian Tiger, Edinburgh-raised, four years my senior. Even the setting sun seems to cast a healthy glow of his orange fur and black stripes. His buttocks are like smooth rocks, and he has muscles like the professional wrestler that he once was. He lived in Westminster for much of his career before he settled here.

I tread as lightly as I can toward the open doorway to the balcony. I cannot wait to press my nude body to his. My loins burn as I envision him cupping my breasts and nuzzling my neck.

I just reach up to him--and grab! I squeeze his right buttock, and at the same time, press against his back. I whisper, "Hello, Sweetie." I nuzzle his neck, enjoying the feel of his soft fur. Almost immediately, he starts purring.

He whispers back, with the purr vibration in his voice, "Good show, Treasure." How I love when he calls me that. Pavel raises his left arm, and places his hand on my face. I coo and continue nuzzling him. As I rub his muscles, Pavel quips, "I thought you would enjoy a view whilst we commemorate our love."

I open my eyes and shift slightly aside. I reply, "I wish to take in the brill view of a tiger before I let 'im get fruity."

Pavel chuckles. "I 'ave no objections about that. Or what yeh prefer."

I am not jealous of how fit Pavel is, or of his muscle. He told me how he would exercise at a gym five days each week. He is the youngest of three, and maybe the most competitive. He didn't know what to do with his life until he started living alone. He shared with me when we started dating, the story of him first moving out of his parents' house, and when having just moved in spent the whole day naked. As he lived in a house at the time, he came off to his neighbours as an exhibitionist. He was quick to decide to install an outdoor shower. After "exhibiting" his body with his first use of it that same summer, an aspiring artist in the area asked him to model for her to sketch. He wasn't afraid to admit that he was eager for it. This artist commended his body and stature. Whether that affected his choice or not, he would attend the gym to keep in shape. She loved drawing him so much that she would ask him a year later to model for her to paint. Just like the sketch, she sold the painting and gave him a cut.

I raise my left arm, hand on his face. I nudge his head to turn, and I kiss him. I have already missed his lips, and even his sandpaper-like tongue. The vibrations from his purring feel good on my neck and mouth. I lower my left arm, running my hand down his cheek and neck. I caress the fur over his pectorals. With my right hand, I stroke his midsection and rub across his groin. The kisses go on uninterrupted as I run my fingers down his member and cup his bollocks.

When I feel his member engorge, the kiss breaks. That is also when my eyes wander to the view of the vast park. My lover would promise me a marvellous view, and he would deliver. His purring grows louder and louder as I continue rubbing his maleness. I close my eyes, enjoying both his vibrations and the piece of meat in my hand. My pattern of rubbing it does not change. I can feel, beneath the fur over the orbs, the skin tightening and the unit hardening and expanding. If only I could be in his embrace forever. But I can't leave my libido unchecked.

I back up and spread my arms. He turns around. Pavel instantly locks his lips with mine. Both of us feel on fire as his lips ravish mine. At the same time, he cups my breasts and massages them. I feel my loins burning with my vulva pressed against his throbbing pecker. Now, I let Pavel take control. I follow the nudge to kneel.

I pause at the sight of his precious piece, the barbed head exposed. He holds it with one hand and places it between my boobs. He slightly rocks back and forth, both of his soft hands over my breasts. I moan, "Oh, fuck..." He chuckles, taking the comment correctly. I pant with the temptation to stick his member in my maw. "Fuck me mouth", I add breathlessly. As predicted, he toys with me, keeping my hungry lips away from his maleness and continues using my boobs as cushions between it. I make out a moan in his purring as he continues rocking his hips. He nudges me to look down, toying with me further.

That does not last long, for he lifts his maleness from my chest, but he grazes its barbs against me before he allows me to suckle upon the delicacy. Pavel places each hand on my jaw. He dares not hump my mouth like I tell him to, but I lap over the length in circles, his purring continuing to bring me to reality when I slip. My loins burn further as I savour his taste. I grab both of his rock-like mounds and push him by his rear. Finally, he complies. He sways his hips. His erection is not as large as that of an orca, but it pleases me nonetheless. I want him to have an orgasm in my mouth. I want to taste his seed.

And I get it! He spurts his juices, roaring as he does so. I suckle on his member and take in every last drop of his cum, pleased with the results. I pull away, panting. I look up at him, the sun seeming to try to stay up. He is sure to stand out in the dark. How I would love to see him glow at night.

He nudges me by the shoulders, and I comply. Pavel hovers above me, kissing me as passionately as before. Then, he moves down, placing small kisses on my neck, and playfully nibbing my nipple. "Hurry the fuck up!" I wail. He rubs my midsection with his hands, and then squeezes my buttocks. Pavel spreads my legs. First, he slides a finger between my legs, making me squeal. Then, he licks over the rim. Finally, he sticks his rough tongue in my clitoris. As I like it, he goes deeper with each lick until all his tongue is inside me. So rough. I have learnt over the years to hold back, as I have sensitive reflexes. I clench my fists tightly. Pavel pins my upper legs with his strong hands. "I fuckin' want it!" I squeal. My toes curl and my back arches as the burning sensation builds up. I feel the flow--

I feel myself explode! I pant as I lay flat on the floor, having spilt on my lover. My hands open, only to close them. I do that repeatedly until Pavel fills my hands with his own. He presses his body against mine. I lift myself slightly, to lick up what juices of mine I find on his face. Anything to keep my lover presentable.

He grins at me before he begins kissing me again. Pavel is a passionate kisser. I have learnt to never kiss anyone in the filming of my porn scenes. It makes our tongues dancing all the more stimulating. My arousal restarts when he grinds against my vulva. From what I can tell, his does, too. Pavel grinds as he repeats his pattern of kisses and nuzzles.

That grinding is for only a short time, for he lifts himself and backs up. Because of what I favour, he lays flat on the floor. I shift toward the tiger, hovering over him, but the foreplay is done. I want him to get hard again. So, I cup his furry orbs and wrap my fingers around his length, rubbing it up and down. His purring resumes.

Pavel seems to hold back over the time I rub his maleness. I eventually take it in my mouth, feeling every barb with my tongue. Pavel shows remarkable restraint, not jerking his hips upward. Get hard already, you bastard!

Even now, I cannot stand to pause in how I pleasure my lover, just to make his unit hard again. When I finally get it to stand up straight, I make my move. I lift slightly and feel for my own clitoris, to align the barbed head with the opening. I moan upon the head sliding in my vagina. I let out a raspy whistle, swaying my hips to get him in further.

That swaying becomes rutting. I rasp, "Fuck!" That is what I want him to do, but this is how I like it. I am quick to get his shaft hilt-deep in my vagina. My loins burn so hotly that I could exude smoke right now. I let out a clicking squeal. "Rub me fuckin' boobs!" Pavel happily complies. If only he had six arms, I could have that fur on my rubbery skin almost everywhere. Pavel massages my breasts whilst I rock back and forth. His barbs feel as if they reach a little further with his erection rocking in unison with me. I moan, "Must... get... fuckin'... orgasm!"

I keep up the pace, and do not brake or accelerate when he jerks his hips upwards. I can feel his maleness twitching inside me, no doubt aching for a release. My insides ache as well, in a good way.

In the instant that I feel Pavel spurt his juices, I open my dam. Whilst Pavel's seed flows inside me, my juices seep out and on his groin. I pant and stay where I am. I click like he purrs as he fondles my breasts and then my midsection and buttocks.

With Pavel's member softening, I slowly get on my knees. With his maleness sliding out, the remainders of our orgasms leak out on him. I back up, to lick his groin and his treasure clean. He tastes so good!

Pavel asks, "Want somethin' ta drink? Tea? Wine?"

I look up, answering, "Wine, of course." It is dark out now.

Pavel gets up. I do, as well, taking his hand. I nestle close, rubbing against his arm and neck. He states, "We want no mosquitos on us." I quickly dismiss that, but I still go with him in the living room. We do not go in the bedroom first. I lay down on his couch.

Neither of us regret getting the scents or drops of our orgasms on the cushions. I lay on my side, eyes closed for the few seconds of my lover gathering items from the kitchen. I can feel when Pavel is right in front of me, setting effects on the table.

I open my eyes and perch on my elbow, observing the bottle of white wine, two glasses, and crackers along the edge of a plate, a small knife and a brick of brie in the middle. I move aside, to let him sit down. I move to sit, and wrap both arms around one arm. I nuzzle his neck, clicking.

As I have to, I let go of his arm, and he pours the bottle's contents in the two glasses. Holding them with fists around the stems, he hands one to me. I gladly take it. Pavel says, "Whot a right shag."

"Much agreed." We clink our glasses. The wine is sour but smooth.

Pavel then asks, "Wanna hear the next chapter of 'Remus's Library'?" I nod. So, he gets up, to approach the bookcase. I find myself distracted by the sight of his rock-like buttocks and his tail swishing. Then, he turns around. I am too late to look up from his pecker, not that he seems to care. As nonchalantly, he sits his bare ass on the leather cushion, chapter book in hand.

When he gets started, I begin spreading some cheese on one of the crackers. I nibble on the cracker, wanting to hear the narration that he relays. Over the half of an hour of him reading aloud, I have eaten most of the crackers, whilst he only ate a few, but he has drunken more wine than I.

After cleaning up the mess of crumbs and I have taken my things to his bedroom, we prepare to turn in. I join him in his bedroom, a navy blue room with a desk at the opposite end, the walls having artworks for decoration. His large bed is covered with a plain smoke-grey blanket over light-grey sheets. His five pillows against the plain headboard are in beige linen cases. He has a closet, which also has two drawers. Bar undergarments, t-shirts, and shorts, I have the impression that he keeps only _good_clothes. He keeps no jeans and next to no sweaters.

I join Pavel in his bed, blankets drawn back. I approach slowly, wanting the predator to take in the sight of the chubby whale that he calls cute. He takes my hand when I lean and sit on the bed. I shuffle toward him and lay my body on the side. My insides tingle from the feeling of his soft fur. I sense him smiling at me as we lay face-to-face and holding hands.

Pavel says, purring, "You come to Kensington often, just for me." I nod without speaking. He adds, "Whot if the items you brought stayed here?"

I reply, "Then they would be here."

So, Pavel suggests, "Whot if oll yer things were here?"

My eyes widen. I never would have guessed that a man wanted me to move in with him. Our exchange of spare keys wasn't very far back. I ask back, "D-you really want me to move in?"

Pavel places a hand on my face. "I do", he answers, his purring continuing. "I would love fer you ta live with me."

How could I ever refuse such a thing? "I would love that, too", I agree, clicking. Who knows what could happen next?

He rubs my face, making me grin, eyes closed. Suddenly, I look forward to cuddling with him every night, knowing that we both sleep nude, even in the winter. I shift to him, to nuzzle his neck. He brings the blankets over both of us.

As we relax with each other, embracing, I think only of Pavel. Moving into his home is the next big choice that I will not regret.