Alley Cat
Ian's run in with a stray cat in a metro car.
Image by Jijix
Alley Cat
The cold mailbox door slams shut with a creak, and that was it. All my applications were filled out and sent. I just needed to keep my paws off the cell for a couple days and play it cool.
I decide to hit up the club and shake out the jitters as the snowflakes start their dance. The icy sidewalks crunch under my boots and the metro hole yawns up before me. Fluorescent lights and dirty walls pass, but I can't help the shivers as the underground heating ruffles my fur.
It's hot in the metro station and empty. I remove my jacket and air out my chest as the train is pulling in for the stop in front of me. The doors hiss and I'm inside.
We all play the 'don't notice' game in the city when there are others on public transit. It's just harder when there are only two.
The cougar lights up a cigarette, the icing on the cake of his punk attire. His bare chestfur shows through the moving gap of his open leather jacket, studded and patched up. It's a nice chest moving down into a smooth stomach. Farther, he's sporting some tight black pants so well-fitting that I'm pretty damn sure he's male.
He looks like trouble too.
I debate for a moment whether to say anything, but the indecision is batted aside.
"Hey,"
It's short and simple. I didn't even add the 'y' to the end of it so it came out as a 'heh.' My muzzle nodded in the most hetero way I could muster, then contact was broken. I succeeded in being polite and stand-offish at once. Bully.
Taking a seat in the nearly empty car, I settle in for the ride. The feline stretches up his arms and the movement draws my eyes back to him. He pierces me with a golden gaze, paws comfortably resting on the holds near the ceiling. It's a tall car.
"You lookin' to buy?"
I expected his voice to be gravelly, but it was smooth and deep. That stance of his made the offer provocative and predatory at the same time. With his arms raised, the cougar's taut stomach flattened further pushing that beautiful "V" shape out. I meet his gaze past the lip piercings and realize this might be the start of a shakedown. Living in the city means you get to meet a ton of colorful characters and then decide how not to get stabbed by them.
"Fuck, dude. I'm just heading home from the bar. I'm spent, man." I shrug as nonchalant as I can. So it's a bold-faced lie. Sue me. Perhaps he'd search for easier prey with more money. I assume he's looking for someone to sell some weed to. That would be my safest guess.
"Huh, you don't look like a bar hopper. Which one?" I'm guessing he notices my attire. It's not traditional club wear, but I love my Henley shirt and jeans look. The One Ring of Power around my neck completes the outfit and my heart.
He releases a paw from the bar and pulls the cigarette from between his black lips, dragging the smoke out. My eyes follow the movement. I should be more focused, but damn. He was hot from the ruffled hairdo between his short, round ears to the tawny furred tail behind him.
Which bars were near this area? I spit out the first one that came to mind. This guy could be dangerous, especially if it's drugs he's trying to sell.
"Paradigm."
Paradigm is a gay bar, a very gay bar. The place reeks of semen and regret. It was the only bar in the district without a 'No Fucking' sign on the bathroom. He sniffs and adjusts himself. Those pants can't be very comfortable.
"You a faggot?"
I stiffen at the word. I've been out since sixteen and I'm still not used to it. I scan the cougar for some neo-Nazi insignia on his leathers, but I can't see the back.
Fuck it. "Yeah, so what?" I sit up a little straighter. If he was one of those assholes, I'd take him down a notch. He'll find out I'm not just some fairy fox. I might get knifed, but whatever. Gay Pride, right?
"You like big cocks, fox?" He clips the words, mocking me. I see a hint of fang as he smiles and puts his cigarette out against the cloth of the seat. A black burn mark smokes from the blue cloth.
"Yeah, I love 'em." I respond, my voice indignant in the moving room. He wants to play this game? I've dealt with worse from my family. "I like sucking dudes off until they bust a nut all over my muzzle. I just live for all that slutty shit."
My tone is bored, but in spite of that, I'm starting to get an erection. He is swaggering closer to me and I'm still sitting down. His paws are solid against the rumbling non-slip floor and his crotch is level with my mouth.
It occurs to me that it might be the exact thing I could use to deter a gay basher, or exacerbate him beyond measure.
I lean back in the seat and lick my lips. With a loose paw, I cup my semi-hard cock in my pants, grasping the bulge lewdly.
"Just talking about it gets me all hard. See?"
The cougar looks me up and down as his tail twitches behind him. The texture of the air changes; I can smell it.
"Yeah," He glances out of the windows. Darkness peppered by service lights flash by in the tunnel. We're in a fairly unpopulated section at a late hour. He tilts his head to the side and his muzzle cracks into a half-grin.
"You wanna see mine?"
The way he said it immediately stiffens the rest of me. I had to adjust myself, sliding the shaft underneath the thick cloth. His eyes follow my paw and I can see the growth in his own basket.
This is a public place, though. I look at the sign and the clock ticking down the time til the next stop. We have seven minutes, thirty nine seconds and counting.
My answer was to reach up and undo his belt buckle, clicking the metal out of the way. The zipper bursts open. His pants were tight against his slim waist, but all the pressure was from that groin. He isn't wearing any underwear and I'm not surprised.
His thick, meaty cat prick slides out easily into my paws. It already has a couple drops of pre leaking between the soft barbs near the tip.
"Ah--nice!" I remark, gripping the warm muscle. I don't want to tell him it's not that big. Oh, it's a good seven inches with nice proportions and clean (Thank the Gods), but definitely not the biggest. That's good for the situation. We wouldn't have the time to work him in if he were any bigger.
"Let me fuck you in the seat, yeah?" The cougar shrugs out of his jacket, his leather hitting the floor. His face is alight with that hungry look males get when sex is a sure thing.
"Wait, what's your name anyway?"
He grins, leaning back and pushing his pants farther down his hips. "Why do you want to know?"
"It's a rule." I shrug as he grasps his rod in front of me. "I should at least know you're name."
"Awwww. That's sweet, considering what I'm about to do to you, foxy." The big cat taps the side of my muzzle with his wet cock, sliding it across my lips. The musky scent fills my nose and I swallow convulsively, gripping the seat with my paws.
"Tag."
"Ian. You have a condom and lube?" If he's dirty enough to do this, maybe he has stuff on him. I was already shimmying the jeans down, my own male flag at full mast.
"The condom," he replies. The familiar small, shiny square appears from the wallet. Damn, that would make things more difficult, but not impossible.
I flip around in the seat and push my jeans down under my cheeks. The material stretches nicely and I hear Tag's hiss of approval.
"Damn, that's some quality talent you have back here."
His paws grip my waist and I feel the pressure of a latexed dick squeezing between my cheeks. He spreads them wide and I bend forward, grasping the cheap blue cloth seats for balance. Who knew subway seats were the perfect height for doggystyle?
His head pops through my ring and I groan. Hell, it felt good through the pain. Not the head popping in, that hurt. Tag's paws on my waist though and the heat of his thighs: that's what felt good. I hear him take another sharp breath in as he eases more of himself into me. The window keeps shooting streams of light by and this close, I can see the pipes and cement walkways outside. I sure hope there aren't any cameras as I notice the clock: five minutes and twelve seconds.
I feel his body bump into mine as he runs out of length. His fuzzy pouch nestling behind mine makes my legs spread. I have to arch my back harshly to get the angle right for him, but I'm rewarded with another moan as he drags himself out.
"Awright. Now hold still, fox." Tag growls and begins thrusting. I would roll my eyes to that, but I'm too busy at the moment. His paw parts the hair on the back of my head between my ears and took ahold. He cranes my neck back and bites along the sensitive place where my neck meets my shoulder. I'm glad I took yoga, because it my throbbing cock tells me to lean into it even further.
"Hey, Tag. Ease up." I rasp out.
"Shut up."
It's hot and I love it. He fucks me like a beast, pumping himself deep into my ass. As the clock passes two minutes and fifty-eight seconds, the cougar braces his arm against the bar and lifts us both up. He momentarily leaves the walls of my tailhole empty as we're repositioned. I'm forced hard against the window of the train as he guides his tip back into me and slams the rest home.
"Dude," I pant. "We have two minutes."
He doesn't respond, but I can see him in the reflection of the window. His eyes are closed and the concentration on his face as his abs roll that thick cat dick into me throbs a good spurt of pre out of my own cock. The exertion creaks the old seats that weren't made for two males standing on top of them.
Suddenly, he spasms and snarls, grabbing my paws and melding his body into mine. A few more quick and dirty thrusts, and he's done.
I have my pants pulled back up and I'm down off the seats as he pulls the condom off. Thirty seconds.
My jacket is back on and my heart is still racing as I button it over the erection that's still in my jeans. It's going to be an interesting walk. The next stop is rattling close and the train slows down. I see muzzles, ears, and tails waiting outside patiently as the windows pass them all by like trays at a buffet.
Then, Tag grins and at me and slaps the used condom on the window.
"That was a blast. Can I get your number?" He looks me up and down lazily, all male bravado and afterglow.
I return the look with an incredulous one of my own. The doors pop open with a clatter and I'm out of them, my tail swaying behind me.
"As if."