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"Vanity" by The NightCat

Chapter One... "Mister Vain"

Trent Fox strode casually along the sidewalk, enjoying the cool breeze of the August night as it caressed his fur. No more than an hour had passed since the sun fell below the horizon, covering the sky in a star-speckled blanket of night. Trent noticed these things with passing interest, but his destination was his only clear concern.

The young male fox walked down the quiet suburban street. It was like any other street along rhe outskirts of the big city, with a long line of houses along the roadside, each with its own perfectly cut lawn.

The houses were mostly blue, brick or beige, with an occasional green thrown in for variety. None of these much drew his attention. The house he approached was on the corner of the block. It was the only white house, and quite noticable for that reason alone. It was the house of his female friend Jaari.

All of the lights in the house were on, and silhouettes of many moving bodies danced in the windows. Dozens of extra cars were parked along the street, and people stood all over the lawn. It was the biggest party of the month; Jaari was famous for that among her friends.

As Trent neared the house, he surveyed the people on the front porch, some drinking, talking, laughing, or moving to the pounding bass of the dance music coming from within.

Trent was known for his healthy self-esteem. Everyone knew he was attractive, and his social skills were very polished. As he walked slowly to the house, several of the people on the lawn watched at him, briefly diverted from their conversations with friends.

His walk was often envied among his friends. Though no one could exactly define it, Trent's movements seemed to radiate a sense of smoothness and sensuality. He liked to evoke a bit of jealousy in his friends; it reminded him (and them, especially) that he was desirable.

He strode across the lawn, pausing briefly to make sure he was prepared. His smooth muzzle was groomed, silky gray fur smoothed back. His lithe, lightly muscled body was covered in gray fur. Beneath his chin, however, was white fur hich spilled down his throat and over his slim chest, his tight, flat stomach and disappeared into his tight black lycra shorts. The shorts clung to his slender hips, cupping his firm butt and the gentle swell of his sheath. He wore a thin white tanktop which cut off just above his navel, exposing a small yet tantalizing section of his rippling stomach. His legs were supple but strong, and his smooth vulpine footpaws were bare.

Depending on the way he carried himself, he could hide his abs, but he was going to a party, so he wanted to flaunt them for everyone. He planned to go home with someone. Bluntly put, he was totally horny. It had been almost a week since he'd been bent over a table and taken. He knew there would be plenty of gorgeous male bodies at the party, so his chances were pretty good.

With a grin and a flash of his violet eyes, he approached the house.

He walked up the path to the house. The house had two two floors and a basement. Traditionally the party would be on the first floor, while the more 'intimate' encounters went to the second floor. Jaari always invited Trent to her parties. They weren't close friends, but he was exceedingly popular and many guys would come simply to talk to him.

Trent liked being gay. Wanting guys felt good. There were very few things involving sex he hadn't tried, and even fewer that he hadn't liked. It was incredibly gratifying to know that a big, hunky male wanted him. It was the sex that mattered to him. He'd never had a stable relationship because he didn't want one. There were countless memories... like that time in the private health club when those three muscle guys had worked him over... and that seven foot tall leather tiger... and when that really young guy went down on him in the restroom of the nightclub... dozens of others, all too precious to give up.

This gave him plenty to talk about, of course.

He hopped up the porch stairs and walked through the open doorway. Warmth, noise, and the sound of "Mr. Vain" by Culture Beat enveloped him as he stepped over the threshold, into the foyer. The thick, warm carpet felt good under his toes. Going barefoot made him feel more casual, and saved the inconvenience of removing his shoes, should he have to slip out of his pants quickly.

The carpet was crimson, and the walls were a soft, light grey. To his right was the archway to the dining room, and stairs leading up, and to his right was a large black leather sofa, and a brick fireplace built into the wall. Everything else was simply a mass people, dancing, laughing, and chatting, all crowded into different parts of the room.

He recognized many of the faces there-- Remmie, his otter friend, and Steven, the unfortunate leopard who had a hopeless crush on him. Remmie was sitting on the arm of the couch, swinging his legs, apparently in animated conversation with Steven, who stood with his strong arms crossed over his broad, furry chest.

Trent felt bad for Steven. The leopard was very sweet, but he had a leather fetish, and he wanted a monogamous relationship. Trent didn't mind the leather so much, but he would never allow himself to be tied down; it would destroy his image! He was polite to Steven, but kept his distance as much as possible-- to avoid hurting him anymore, he would say if asked.

He smiled to both of them, and with a small wave he walked over, carefully slipping through the crowds of moving bodies. Both mustelid and feline eyes lit up as he approached.

"Good evening," he said, grinning. He looked at Remmie as he spoke.

The otter seemed extremely cheery and excited, as usual He was well-known for his good humor and optimism.

"Hi Trent," Remmie said. "It's been a long time since I last saw you!" He immediately hopped to his feet, and without any warning he threw his arms around Trent, giving him a good squeeze.

Remmie was the type of guy who everyone seemed to know, but no one knew very well. He had a beautiful swimmer's body, which was generously coated in thick, sleek brown fur. Usually he wore as little clothing as possible, especially on hot nights, or at parties where he wanted to look cute. He didn't seem as interested in sex, he mainly wanted to keep cool. His slim physique was covered only be a pair of red shorts, and his silver necklace. He, unlike Trent, wore white socks and sneakers on his feet.

It was well known that Remmie was very popular with both genders; he knew just about everyone, in fact.

Trent planned to spend a good deal of time around him throughout the evening.

Not only was this a great way to make new friends, but they shared a similar taste in men, so Remmie would often recommend a prospect to him. He gave his otter friend a good, strong hug, and paused for a moment to look him over.

"It's been far too long," he said. "But you still look as incredible as you did the last time I saw you with this little clothing on."

The both laughed. Trent ruffled Remmie's headfur, and Remmie resumed his place on the arm of the sofa.

Steven stood passively to the side. Even through the cacaphony of sound around them, Trent felt the uncomfortable pause. He knew he should have greeted Steven somehow, rather than just letting him stand there.

However, it seemed most logical to simply ignore him. There was no point in wasting his energy on yet another hopeless crush. He felt he was doing them both a favor; it would surely be easier for Steven to be ignored than to be rejected.

He turned back to Remmie. "So, what's the news tonight?" he asked Remmie.

The otter laughed merrily. "Well, Jaari really outdid herself this time. I think the place is going to need some serious cleaning when everyone leaves! Of course, it could be days before she clears everyone out. Jaari has some pretty wild stuff going on in her world. Just wait until I tell you about that!"

He went on to chatter about the latest gossip, about who was sleeping with whom, and what they were saying about it.

Both were so engrossed in their conversation, neither of them noticed when Steven walked away.

As usual, Remmie spoke far too much, and after awhile Trent found his attention wandering. He liked Remmie, but he was at a party, and there were many interesting things to be found. For example, a partner.

As he looked through the crowd of dancing people, he picked out several species. He leaned against one wall, and assumed his trademark seductive pose. He placed one hand behind his head, elbow pointed up, and tilted his hips. This exposed more of his abdomen, and the bicep of his arm. He coiled his fluffy, luxurious tail around his leg, and felt ready to check out the meat market. Smiling politely to Remmie, he responded with appropriate 'uh-huhs' and 'ahh, yes's' when necessary, and then let his eyes drift, dance with the guests.

He spied a large, snowy white ursine male, and licked his lips absently. Bears could be so delicious, not only because of their large stature and their immense strength, but also because of the wildness of their passion. When they came, it was obvious. Trent considered him a possibility, and looked on.

With his free hand, he ran his fingers under his shirt, and rubbed his chest lightly, circling a nipple, knowing how sexy it looked. He shifted his hips slightly, inhaled deeply, and sighed with contentment, and the mild rush he felt whenever he was aroused in a large crowd of people.

Remmie caught on. "Looking for a playmate, are you?" he asked, trying to suppress a giggle. "There's plenty here tonight for you to choose from. Most of these guys wouldn't mind a little company from a sexy fox."

"Thanks for the advice," Trent said, not taking his eyes off the guests.

He caught another male, a wolf who was having a drink, sitting in the recliner on the other side of the room. He definitely had an interesting style. He was very tall, with chocolate brown fur. In his right ear was a silver earring, and he wore a baseball cap, turned backwards. Bare-chested, he left his generously muscled physique exposed for all to see. His blue jeans were baggy, and hung down off of his hips just slightly, enough to show only the waistband of his white briefs. The jeans widened around his ankles, falling over a pair of huge sneakers.

The overall effect was very masculine, and very interesting to Trent. Far more than interesting, in fact. He forgot completely about the bear as his eyes traced over the thick, round curves of the lupine chest, the broad shoulders, and sculpted arms. He noticed the wolf's huge feet, and wondered if they reflected the size of his maleness.

Their eyes met, violet vulpine with onyx lupine, and the wolf smirked slightly, and nodded in greeting. Trent raised an eyebrow, and smiled back. He wet his lips with his tongue tip.

For the next several minutes they played a little game of tag; they would stare at one another, each checking out the other's body, until their eyes met, and then they would look away quickly. After three or so instances, each knew the other was interested. The next step would be for one of them to approach the other. He knew how to play the game, and in this game he always let them come to him.

He turned his head slightly, ignoring the wolf completely, waiting for him to show up. If his prospect decided to be stubborn, he would simply find another.

Men were plentiful, and at big parties they were expendable.

He slid his hand out from under his shirt, and let his fingertips slip below the waistband of his shorts, brushing at the tip of his hot, swelling sheath, creating a bit more incentive. Idly he scanned the room, waiting for his wolf to get up, but not checking to see if he had.

All of a sudden, quite by accident, his gaze met two of the most gorgeous blue eyes he had ever seen. They were attached to a feline, a white furred cat boy. The intensity of the feline gaze startled him, and he had to look away.

He looked at the feline male again, and felt his heart jump in his chest. Beautiful. The cat was beautiful! He was alone, standing inconspicuously in one corner. He wore a simple t-shirt and jeans shorts, with no jewelry, and no overt sex appeal. To the average person he would have seemed plain and boring, but he had such an innocent look about him!

He was stared at Trent's body, mouth slightly agape, slim shoulders rising and falling slowly with his breath. He looked so young and soft, and melancholy, slightly sad.

Their eyes locked suddenly, and Trent smiled charmingly. The beautiful feline's eyes widened in surprise, and the cat turned away quickly. To Trent, he stood out in the crowd, and Trent had to have him.

Suddenly a very large, warm wolven hand patted him on the shoulder. His former prey had arrived. The former prey he had completely forgotten about.

It took him a moment to pry his eyes away from the cat to look at the wolf.

"Hey man," the lupine in a deep, cool voice. He stood close to Trent, toweing over him. "I seen you standin there, and I figured you might want a drink." He flashed a grin, and held out a plastic cup filled with red punch. "Name's Galinn."

The voice of the wolf seemed far away, and irrelevant. Nevertheless Trent gave Galinn an artificial smile and took the offered drink before turning back to the cat again. It seemed the feline had given up on him when he saw the wolf approach. He looked rather downcast, gazing at the floor, shoulders slumped slightly.

Trent sighed. He knew he had to move quickly, or he would lose his chance. And yet he had to do something about the wolf. He shot Remmie a sly grin.

"Remmie," he said, "I'm sure you know Galinn. I have to take care of something. Want to have a little chat with him?"

Remmie knew what was happening. He glared reproachfully at Trent and then looked up at the wolf, with a renewed smile.

Trent turned to Galinn. "Here, hold this would you, gorgeous?" he said, giving the wolf his drink and walking off, directly toward the delightful feline.

He felt no remorse over the situation, other than the loss of a good screw. He'd been fucked by wolves before, and wolves like Galinn tended to make particularly pleasurable partners. But something was special about the cat, and he needed to know more about him.

Stealthily he worked his way through the crowd, feeling completely at home amid the swaying, dancing bodies. It was like swimming to him. He just kept going, working his way to his destination.

The feline was still standing in the corner when he noticed Trent approaching. A look of shock spread across his face, and then it faded beneath the restraint, the nervous tension that Trent knew was common to all shy people.

"Good evening," Trent said, stopping about two feet away. "You look like you could use some company." He didn't give his prospect a way out of the conversation; he focused directly on him.

The cat smiled slightly and shrugged. "Aww, I shouldn't even be here, man. I don't know anybody here anyways."

It was obvious he was shy, and probably unaccustomed to being approached at random.

"That's not true," Trent replied. "You know me. My name's Trent." He extended a paw, holding back the urge to hug the cat.

"I'm Rill," said the cat, tentatively reaching out and shaking Trent's paw. "Pleased to... meetcha." He continued to smile, but there was something in his eyes, perhaps fear.

"So how are you tonight, Rill?" Trent asked, giving the warm hand a squeeze, and then releasing it.

Rill shrugged. "I was lookin to pick up a chick or something, but I don't think anyone's interested."

Trent realized suddenly what was so attractive about Rill. It was vulnerability. The young cat was practically begging someone to take care of him.

"Well," Trent said, patting Rill on the shoulder, "a party can be just as fun for two guys hanging out, right?"

The cat swallowed. "Yeah, I guess so."

"You know, I'm glad I ran into you. You caught my eye over there, just as some jerk was hitting on me."

"Hit on you? Like, trying to pick you up?" asked the cat.

"Yep. He was pretty cute, but I wasn't interested."

There was a long pause, and, with some hesitation, Rill asked, "So... you like... guys?"

This was the moment of truth. Trent nodded, and spoke a bit more softly, looking into the cat's eyes. "Yes I do. I'm very attracted to guys."

"Oh... cool," Rill said simply, staring back at him.

Trent let his fingers slide over Rill's shoulder, along the side of his neck. He continued to smile.

"How about you, Rill?" he asked. "Do you like to look at guys? Guys like me?"

He fancied he could see Rill's eartips reddening slightly with embarrassment. "Umm... I like g-girls, but... but I like looking at you, too. You're kinda c-cool," he stammered.

Gradually Trent leaned forward, and slid his arms around Rill's silky-furred neck, keeping them perhaps six inches apart. "Well thank you. I happen to think you're very hot, Rill."

Rill inhaled deeply, and gently placed one paw on Trent's side, on his bare fur just below where his shirt cut off. "Thanks," he said quietly, almost indetectable in the music.

Tilting his head, and leaning forward a bit more, until his breath warmed the cat's lips, Trent spoke softly. "You said you are into girls, but have you ever thought about being with another guy?"

This left Rill nearly panting. His eyelids lowered slightly. "Umm..." he swallowed again, and licked his lips, trying to wet his dry mouth. "Yeah, I have." For a moment he seemed to find his senses, and continued, "It's just that no one's ever hit on me before."

No kidding, Trent thought wryly, but stifled that. There was something amazing about a guy who was a virgin to his own kind, and who obviously wanted to experiment. Trent found it exhilerating, and, as he pressed a bit closer, easing Rill against the wall behind him, he could feel his own heartbeat quicken.

"That surprises me," he said softly. "I think you're incredibly gorgeous, and I'd like to know you better. In fact, I left that wolf to come over here and talk to you." He figured a little bit of pressure wouldn't hurt.

"B-but there are tons of chicks here, man," Rill murmured, apparently not quite grasping the idea that Trent was gay. "You could pick up anyone you wanted. Why me?"

The cat was perplexed, and more than a bit frightened, but he didn't fight Trent off. For a member of a species that didn't like being trapped in corners, he certainly wasn't objecting much to Trent's advances.

"You don't understand," Trent told him, leaning closer. He softened his voice, and pressed his lean body up against Rill's. The feline's hurried breath was warm on his mouth. Inside he was soaring on an incredible rush.

"Some guys can't get their hands on a girl." He placed a paw gently on Rill's shoulder. "But I don't want you because I can't get a girl. I want you because you are a guy, and I think you're very, very sexy." With those words, he let his hand drop, and rested it on the feline's left buttock, while he slid his thigh up against Rill's groin.

Rill shuddered, and closed his eyes. He was going through a major conflict inside. They were already close enough for each to feel the other's heart beating, but instead of feeling terrified or nervous, as he'd expected, he was beginning to feel aroused. Resting his head on the beautiful fox's shoulder, he let out a giddy sigh. "Aww fuck, man, I don't believe this. I just don't believe this." He wrapped his arms around Trent's waist, and held into him, a bit awkwardly.

A grin spread across Trent's lips, and he was glad Rill could not see it. He could feel the firmness inside the feline's pants pressing against his thigh, and he knew that before the night was through, he would take it into his mouth. The experience was only getting better with each passing moment.

He desperately wanted the cat.

"What don't you believe?" he asked, pressing one finger against Rill's jeans, between the mounds of his rump, under his tail.

There was a short pause, and then Rill tightened his grip on Trent, sliding one hand up his back a little, under the cutoff t-shirt. His hands trembled slightly.

"I don't believe you're hitting on me. You're the hottest guy at this party, man!" His voice was almost as shaky as his hands.

"I know," Trent whispered. He slid his tongue out, and licked along the edge of the feline ear. Rill gasped quietly, and his grip around Trent tightened even more.

Trent knew about situations like this. Usually the greater the fear, the greater the arousal that burned within his partner's heart. He held on, and let Rill enjoy the ride, which he knew was just beginning. He also knew that before long, Rill's erection would become unbearable, and the cat would need to do something about it.

The night was promising.

[Completed 4/3/97 Revised 12/13/99]