Love or Lust?
#3 of Sheila
Sheila sat back and melted in to the poofy chair next to the front door in the living room. Light from outside tore through the crack of the barely open door, reminding her - mocking her - that she didn't close the door all the way. She sighed, reaching over and pushing it closed... perhaps a bit harder than she meant to, but it was all okay: she was in a bad mood today. The door deserved to be slammed shut.
She leaned down and shucked her shoes off her paws, peeling of her socks with much satisfaction. Throughout the entirety of school, not once did she get a chance to take off her shoes, keeping her feet caged up, suffocating. Now, they were getting much needed air. She always felt better when she took her shoes off after school... like shedding off all the bad of the day - if only for a moment.
She looked about the room - the couch, the TV, the kitchen behind the bar-like counter and the stools tucked below it. She wanted three things: water, TV, and the couch... but that would require getting up, and she wasn't quite prepared to do that. Just a few more minutes of relaxing in the poofy chair... of not thinking about the day...
It had been a bad day indeed for the young kitten. Her ex-best friend, Marcy, wrote a nasty limerick about her on the bathroom wall, and ever since, everyone was convinced that she gave hand-jobs for ten dollars. Three guys tried to get her to that back corner of the school that has generated rumors of people having sex...
Not only that, but her ex-best-friend Marcy was the only person she really socialized with all of last year, and now, she was all alone... eating alone at lunch, sitting with her head down and munching her chicken sandwich, trying to ignore the nasty hand-signals the guys at the other table were making at her.
At least during the summer she was fine. She could handle being alone when she was alone... but when she was surrounded by all of her classmates, being alone started to sting.
She sighed again, and picked herself up out of the chair, padding her way over to the kitchen. Cup, spigot, water... lap lap lap... She padded over to the couch, and did a long, wide mouthed yawn, stretching out her back, before slowly slumping into the couch. Lap lap lap...
Now that she thought about it, the notion of watching TV disgusted her. She knew it would all be that demographically targeted drivel that her classmates all fell for. Now-a-days, they were all about the bitches and hoes, gangstas and dawgs... and badunkadunks... never once did someone's butt ever give her the notion that it might be called a badunkadunk... it seemed like something a two-year-old would come up with. Perhaps the worst part is that she didn't have a badunkadunk... her ass was as flat as her chest...
She poked at her boobs through her shirt, willing them to grow. Grow, grow, grow, She thought. Most of the other girls her age had breasts the size of her fist, carefully cradled and amplified by pushup bras and low neck-lines. She didn't want to be that slutty, though... she just wanted something a little bigger than the two low speed bumps on the quiet suburban street that was her chest.
She stopped poking her boobs when she heard a car pull up. Soon after, her sister, Hellen walked through the door with her head hung low, her long hair blocking out her face. Mike, her fox friend was right by her, his arms around her shoulders, holding her close and looking concerned.
"I..." she started, not looking up, "I need to go to the bathroom."
Mike nodded and let her go.
Once she was gone, he turned to Sheila and extended his index finger and thumb, making the universal sign for gun, placed it to his head, and made the universal sign for, "Dear gods, just kill me now." He heaved a sigh and plopped on to the couch next to her.
"Mew?" mewled Sheila, cocking her head to the side.
Mike shook his head. "Wanda and Eric hooked up last night, and decided to share the news this morning. Hellen's been trying to hold it in all day."
At least I'm not the only one having a bad day, thought Sheila.
"Wow... that really sucks," was all that she could manage.
Mike nodded. "I mean... it's good for Eric and Wanda and all... they've wanted each other for a while now... but, I mean... jeez."
Sheila thought about all the little signs that pointed to her sister having the hots for Eric... and the time she read her sister's diary... and the porn tape featuring a male wolf - Eric was a wolf - under her sister's bed... She must have been crushed.
"And the worst part," Mike continued, "for me, anyway, is that... I think I still like her... your sister... I mean... I thought I was over her a long time ago, but..."
Hellen, Mike, Eric, and Wanda had been friends since fifth grade. Sheila envied their friendship so much some times. Even now, she wished she had friends that generated this much drama, so that she could live it, learn from it. Still, the thought of Mike wanting her sister made her feel... betrayed, somehow.
Mike heaved another sigh. "So, how was your day?"
Sheila shrugged. "It was... well..." she considered just blowing it off and saying 'fine,' or, 'alright,' or, 'good,' or some other lie, but she secretly liked Mike, and she wanted him to comfort her, to feel feelings for her. "my best friend kinda stopped being my best friend, and... she keeps telling people I..." a blush began to creep up under her black fur, "that I give hand-jobs for ten dollars."
Mike raised an eyebrow and gave a mischievous grin, "You don't, do you?"
"Of course not!" She could feel the blush burning her cheeks, and was glad she was covered in fur.
"Dang," said Mike, "and here's me with ten bucks burning a hole in my pocket..." He shook his head, letting awkwardness sink in for a bit before he chuckled. "Sorry, it's been a stressful day... I just needed to blow some steam... er... make a joke." He chuckled again at the unwitting innuendo he made.
Sheila just gave him a funny look.
He cleared his throat. "Ahem... sorry."
Hellen came out from the bathroom and slowly made her way down the hall, her chin still resting on her chest.
"Feel better?" Mike asked.
She gently shook her head, then headed for the stairs that lead up to her room.
Mike watched her disappear up the stairs in a rigid sort of way.
Mike pushed himself off the couch. "I should probably go make sure she doesn't try to kill herself... or Eric..." He bounded up the stairs.
Sheila sighed and grabbed a pillow at the side of the couch, clutching it close to her chest.
Two nights later, the phone rang. This is no special occurrence in a house that was occupied by Hellen, so nobody rushed to pick it up. Sheila was closest to it, though, sitting at the kitchen counter, doing her math homework, so she picked it up lazily.
"Tanner residence, how may I help you?" Her mother had insisted on that greeting. Sheila only used it when she was around, though. If it was just her father, she was more apt to say something like, "Honk if you like cookies," and wait to see if the person on the other end made any honking noises. This always amused her dad.
"Hey, Sheila" asked a familiar voice at the other end, "this is Marcy..."
The wind was knocked out of her. "Ah," was all she could manage.
"Listen... I just wanted to say... I'm sorry... I just..." there was a long pause, like Marcy wanted to say something important... but then said, "I'm sorry, I gotta go. Bye."
There was a click, and then silence. Sheila just stared at her math homework, unseeing.
Sheila's ears twitched. Above her, the ceiling of her room rumbled with thuds and bangs. Muffled giggles floated down, and she knew her sister was feeling better enough to at least face Wanda and Eric. The bunny and wolf couple were gracious enough to keep the public displays of affection to a bare minimum around Hellen, but things were still hard for her. Still, they were all upstairs, wrestling, or playing twister, or doing something equally undignified for juniors in high school... at least, that's what her mother keeps grumbling.
She examined herself in the full-length mirror hanging on her wall. Wearing only pink panties and her training bra, it was easy to spot the white patch of fur on her belly. She was rather fond of that patch. It was like her little secret. Everyone just assumed she was a black cat with a white-tipped tail, but she knew otherwise.
She didn't think she looked too badly. She certainly thought things could be better, though. She turned and looked at her profile. Boobs that weren't there, flat butt... at least I'm skinny, she thought to herself, giving thanks to her almost hummingbird-like metabolism, and her mother's insistence on organic food, although that had been both a blessing and a curse; Sheila heard that the hormones in milk make girl's breasts grow larger at a younger age.
The unmistakable sounds of Mike's voice filtered through, followed by laughter. She remembered that day at the pool, when his shorts slipped off, and she saw ALL of him... the white streak of fur he had going from his chin to his crotch... especially his crotch... then tried to shake off that feeling in her own crotch...
"No," she told herself. "People are here, and they're still awake." But her crotch wouldn't listen. The feeling rose to her stomach, and soon, she was feeling it all over. She sighed in resign, and padded over to her bed, where she bent over and took out the old, familiar back massager and a rolled up towel. She laid down the towel, turned off the light, and fired up the massager. An eerie purple glow emanated from the three pinball sized spheres that were whirring like a horde of angry bees. She clicked it off and tossed it on the bed, freeing her hands to slip out of her training bra.
Laying down on the bed (having to pull the massager out from under her, 'cause she couldn't see it in the dark) she pressed the on button again, and gently dragged the three spheres down her belly, tensing for the vibrations...
She thought of Mike, naked in all of his orange-and -white-furred splendor, his penis fully erect and probing at her womanhood... calling her beautiful... looking deep into her eyes, smiling that smile of his... kissing her long and deep...
She felt her panties cling to her cubslit as they were wetted down with her juices, gasping as she pressed the vibrator against into her lips. Her fingers traced her nipples, and she braced herself as she lowered the massager and pressed it against her pucker. A shiver of... she wasn't sure if it was pleasure or something else, but it ran up through her body, and a rush of fluids gushed from her slit, crawling down her crack and being absorbed into the towel.
There was a thunder of thumping from the ceiling, and before she could register that they were the sounds of footsteps heading towards the stairs... going down the stairs... Her door burst open, letting in a flood of light.
There stood Mike, his hand still on the doorknob, and even though he was just a silhouette, she could see he was still smiling from whatever brought him down the stairs... but the smile slowly fade away as realization dawned. Sheila sat there, frozen. He stood there, frozen. They both stared at each other. One of her hands was still on her breast... the other was still between her thighs, holding the massager that buzzed intensely on her anus.
Mike slowly turned, walked out, wide-eyed, closing the door behind himself.
Sheila dropped the massager and curled up into a ball, crying.
Weeks passed, and she didn't hear a single word of the incident. Not a single joke or comment from anyone... he must not have talked.
Whenever she and Mike were in the same room together, he just didn't pay attention to her... and when they were alone, they both scrambled to be in other places.
Even in school, Marcy left her alone. The old rumors still hung around, but she at least didn't start any new ones. Whenever they passed in the hall, Marcy just meekly lowered her head and hurried to wherever she was going.
Sheila curled up on the couch, not really watching the crap that was on TV. It was a Saturday, thankfully, and she had the house to herself. Hellen went off with Wanda to do some shopping, and the parents were off having a date. As usual, when Sheila was alone in the house, she was wearing only her panties and a long T shirt, but she kept a skirt close by in case anyone knocked on the door, or came home unexpectedly, or never left home, equally as unexpectedly.
The doorbell rang, and she felt smart as she slipped the skirt on. She opened the door and blushed - it was Mike.
"Hey," he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, "is Hellen home?"
Sheila shook her head. "Shopping with Wanda."
"Oh... that's right." He looked about nervously... "Um." He said. "Can I come in?"
Sheila looked at her feet, wiggled her toes, but nodded. She padded over to the couch and sat, and he sat next to her, his hands in his lap, looking at the floor in front of him.
"About... that night..." he started... "I'm sorry I barged in on you like that... I should have knocked."
" 's okay," she mumbled.
"I mean... I guess I was surprised... I didn't... I didn't... Um... I always thought of you as just... Sheila... I didn't know you did that kind of
thing..."
Sheila blushed intensely, wishing she had a pillow to hide behind.
"And... I really hate it when I get walked in on... I mean... my mom will sometimes just barge right in..."
Huh, thought Sheila, feeling slightly naughty, I never thought of him doing that... and despite herself, she imagined him sitting there, pawing himself off... and she blushed.
"Anyway," he forced himself to look at her, "It's okay, and... I'm sorry. Even though you're my friend's sister, I always thought of you as a friend, and I didn't want keep on being this awkward."
Inside her chest, she felt an ember of warmth blossom. He thought of her as a friend... She reached over and hugged him. He chuckled and hugged her back. They both sat there, laced together, and Sheila thought, he's so warm! I want to kiss him... I want him to kiss me...
She could feel him about to break the hug, so she gathered whatever courage she had, and planted a quick peck on his cheek. They came apart, and she saw that he was looking into her eyes, smiling that smile of his...
With all her courage already gathered, it was almost easy to lean in and put her lips against his, leaving them there. His lips were soft and warm, slightly moist...
He was jolted, and leaned back. He looked at her with surprise, and she could tell that under his fur, he was blushing just as much as she was.
"Um," he said.
She was already this far... She leaned in again, grabbing the back of his head, pulling him in to her kiss. He tried to lean back, but his lips were puckered - he was kissing her back!
He leaned all the way back, onto his back, and she followed, kissing more and more, ending up on top of him. His hands began caressing her back, trailing down to her lower back... her butt... past her skirt and on to her bare thighs... each stroke of his hands sending waves of electric pleasure through her body, each little kiss warming sending blood rushing through her body.
She straddled him, and felt his hips push up at her slightly. She could feel the obvious bulge under his pants rubbing between her thighs, and her mind went blank. Elation was running through her body, as well as lust, and she didn't even notice her panties growing moist.
That's when he pushed her off.
He did it gently, but forcefully. He pushed her off, and stood up, walking towards the door, mumbling, "No... no..."
Sitting up on the floor, she could see his pants stretched out in the front, his boner obvious. She felt the moistness in her panties... she felt like crying... but most of all, she felt determined. She jumped up and rushed over to him, grabbing his hands and pulling him towards the stairs. He resisted, but not enough. He was lead down the stairs, and to her room, and she shut the door behind them.
She hesitated, then. She suddenly realized that she didn't know what to do from there. All she knew was that she wanted to kiss him, feel his lips press against hers... feel the warmth of his body, be with him... Fascination, awe, curiosity, and lust were all telling her to continue on, but none of them were telling her how.
He didn't look like he knew what to do, either. His green eyes danced around nervously, as if he thought there were cameras in the wall.
Here goes nothing, she thought. She stood on the tips of her toes, using her tail to balance, and threw her arms around his neck, pulling his unresisting head down. Their lips met, and her mind was washed of doubts, worries, or thoughts, for that matter. All that was left was lust and the sensation of touch. She could his warm lips on hers, the slight breeze of his breath from his nose, his fur shifting under his shirt as their chests rubbed together, and his hard cock, skewed to the side for lack of anywhere else to go. And then his hands at her back, rubbing tenderly, hungrily. She wanted more of him; not his shirt or pants, but him. She wanted to feel his fur pressed tightly against hers. She wanted to release what was trapped by such a thin layer of denim.
She didn't even realize that she was purring.
Her hands slid slowly down the front of his chest, and then up his shirt, her fingers running through his soft fur, until he broke the kiss and took his shirt clean off. She felt a surge of joy and reassurance as he helped her take her shirt off, too, exposing the white patch of fur on her belly, and her training bra, which she later regretted it being so woefully bland. It didn't matter at the time, though, because as soon as he saw it, his hands darted behind her back. He distracted her with a kiss while he expertly unhooked her bra. She blushed slightly as she let it slip to the floor, but, again, all thoughts were lost when he tenderly cupped her developing breasts, massaging them, his thumbs rubbing over her nipples.
She could feel her panties grow uncomfortably moist, and desperately desired to be rid of them, but it was all that she could do to kiss Mike and rub her fingers longingly through the soft fur on his back.
She didn't even remember moving to the bed, or how she came to be lying down, with him over her on his hands and knees.
Suddenly his lips parted from hers, and she caught her breath, wondering why the kissing stopped. She opened her eyes - she hadn't realized that they were closed until then - and looked up at him. He was staring into her eyes concernedly, and she knew some semblance of thought had pierced the haze of lust in his mind.
"Are you sure you want to do this," he asked softly.
She was out of breath, and couldn't think of doing anything but, so she just nodded, her chest rising and falling. He smiled wistfully and murmured, "you are so beautiful," and kissed her again.
Bliss, she thought - or felt; she couldn't tell. Bliss and pleasure, yet there's more to be had...
She gasped and gave a small squeak as Mike's hand suddenly found its way up her skirt, rubbing the inside of her thighs, the crest of her mound... his fingers pushing her panties aside and gliding along her moist slit. The mere touch took her breath away, and she almost whimpered as he traced his fingers up and down, making her purr excitedly.
As soon as they were there, his fingers were gone, and she found her breath. Seconds later, she felt a tug, and her panties were being pulled down. Mike moved down with them, making sure they made it off all the way.
There she lay, her legs spread, nothing but her skirt on, and kneeling between her knees was a grinning mike, enjoying the view. She wanted to close her legs, put her tail between them to cover herself up - to hide the small stream of juices trickling down her crack.
He moved, placing his head between her thighs, and she gasped as she felt his cold nose nuzzle her clit, then his tongue lapping at her slit. He held her hips as he helped himself to a feast of her juices, each lick coaxing more out of her.
She felt breathless, each movement of his lapping tongue sending spikes of pleasure through her whole body, curling her toes and tail, grabbing the blankets beneath her.
Suddenly it stopped. She opened her eyes he was right in front of her, smiling. She mewed quizzically, disappointed that the feeling was fading away, but he just smiled, and gave her a small kiss on the lips.
She kissed him back, and when she felt his tongue press against her lips, she parted them. He let loose a gush of her own fluids he must have been keeping in his mouth. It flowed into her mouth, warm and tasting familiar. Instantly she felt naughty - disgusted with herself for liking it, but... he wanted her to do it... and she couldn't think of why it would be bad... so she just relaxed and enjoyed it, swallowing it and enjoying the taste it left on her tongue.
When she finished, she noticed Mike had backed off, undoing the button on his pants. He pulled them down to his knees, and his shaft sprung out, coming to immediate attention. It was much smaller than the wolf's in the porn, but knowing what he was going to do with it - where it was going to go - it seemed incredibly huge anyway. Her eyes were wide with shock, and seeing that must have embarrassed and encouraged him, because he was bashfully smiling. He bent over her again and licked her cheek, then looked down as he guided his shaft to her. The head touched her lower lips, and she gave a small gasp that turned into a mewl of pain as he slowly pushed in to her.
"It's okay," he whispered, nibbling her ear, "It'll pass." And then he kissed her again, long and hard. She focused on kissing him instead of the growing pain between her legs. She tried to ignore the sensation of being ripped in two, and focus on the kiss, but it was so hard... She felt him hit a wall - her hymen, she had heard it called - and he pressed right through it, sending a jolt of searing pain all through her lower half. She cried out in his mouth, tears welling in the corners of her eyes, and he stopped pushing, the tip of his cock resting in her.
She caught her breath and looked down between their bodies, and at the sight of his cock inside her, she lost her breath again. She barely had time to catch her breath again before he pushed in further.
It was agonizing, feeling him stretch out her tunnels, but underneath it all was the urge to continue. She mewled out again, but this time there was a hint of pleasure in her tone.
Mike didn't push in all the way. His shaft sat halfway in her before he started to pull out, and she was thankful for that. She couldn't imagine how it would have felt if he pushed all the way in, but then again, she didn't have to. Mike pushed back in, suddenly, and forced his cock deep in to her, all the way in. She let out a yelp of pain and shock, but before she could do anything else, he started pulling out again.
"It..." she panted, "That... That hurt... p-please be... gentle."
He ran a finger down her cheek, and lovingly kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry," he said, breathless, "I was just excited. I'll go slower."
He pumped in and out slowly, but pushed in deeper each time. She let out a long mewl, trying to express the pain and anxiety she was feeling, but at the tail end of it, there was a hint of pleasure.
His hips gained speed, matching his slow, but heavy breathing. It was too much for her - the world had dropped away, and she threw her arms around him, trying to hold on to something as these sensations took over her whole body. Soon, his hips were bumping against hers, his entire shaft inside her. She could feel his fur brushing against hers, his balls as they bumped between her legs, and most of all, she could feel every inch of his cock. She was breathing so hard that she hardly heard him whispering in her ear.
"I saw you trying this..."
She realized one of his arms was underneath her, sliding down her back, past her tail, and one of his fingers rose up between her cheeks and pressed against her tailstar. She gasped and mewed, not sure if it was pleasure or pain, but she cried out when his finger pushed further, and the tip of it found its way in her ass.
It was too much. She shuddered and cringed as she came, clenching tightly on his finger and shaft. Her juices flowed out around his cock, soaking the sheets.
Mike pumped in to her once more, pushing his finger deeper into her ass despite the resistance, and she came again, stars dancing across her vision.
Her tight, spasming cubslit massaged Mike's cock, bringing him to climax, as well. She gasped as she felt the heat of his seed fill her, and cried out as he bucked into her, once, twice, flooding her young tunnels with cum. She felt hot inside, and exhausted, and slightly violated.
Mike pulled his finger out of her ass, and slowly slid his cock out. It was a relief, a breath of fresh air, but at the same time she felt horribly empty. Mike rolled off of her and caught his breath, laying next to her.
She wanted to close her legs, roll over, and be held by him, but she had a hard time closing her legs. They were sore, and trying to close them only made the pain in her crotch burn more. Her muscles were pummeled into staying open, and now they felt spring-loaded to keep it that way.
This is probably why those cowboys walk bowlegged, riding horses all the time, she thought.
She rolled over and hugged Mike close to her, burying her cheek into his fur. He was warm, and it felt safe. Mike threw an arm around her, but he didn't hold her like she wanted to be held. He just... put his arm there...
And then, as the fog of lust thinned, and clear thought shone through like daylight, it exposed everything the fog hid, including all the worried little questions and problems that the future held.
What happens if my parents come home? Where are my panties? Will they let us date? Should we tell them? Should we even tell Hellen? Would Mike want to tell anyone? Can he get me pregnant? Why didn't he wear a condom? Why did his finger feel so good in my butt? Is that the hand that's rubbing my shoulder now? Isn't that disgusting? Why had I been so stupid! Of course he can't date me! Isn't it against the law? My dad would kill him! Why is he just laying there? Is he regretting what we did? Am I regretting it?
She lay there in his half-assed embrace, all of a sudden feeling very alone.