A Knock At The Door
*Note To The Reader: This is story is a short-story I've been working on, which I decided to turn into yiff. Hopefully the transition went okay. This is my first yiff story, so hopefully if it's not up to par, I'll get better. Practice makes perfect, right? Enjoy.*
John stood at the door to his apartment, fumbling for his keys. It was January, and he had no coat, shivers ran down his spine, from his fur to his bones, from his antlers to his shaking feet. It was late, too late, and in the dark John groped aimlessly around him for what he was looking for. He felt like an idiot, standing out in the freezing cold, half-drunk in the middle of the night, cursing to himself. All he wanted to do was get inside, get a beer, and get warm. He reached down in the pockets of his jeans, and the back pockets, but had no luck. John sighed deeply and let his head fall against the door. He was so cold, so tired, he hadn't the energy to feel frustrated. He felt like sliding down that door, curling up, and sleeping right there at his doorstep.
That's when he remembered the spare key he kept under the doormat, John snapped to attention and looked down at the "Welcome" mat that lay in front of him. John kneeled down and lifted it up, revealing the small, tarnished brass key which lay beneath it. It had been Jennie's idea to keep one there, in case John locked himself out. That's how she had put it to, "in case you lock yourself out again, john." He picked the key up gingerly - noticing the clear impression it had left from months of dirt collecting around it - as if it was a priceless piece of art, and raised it to the lock.
Just then, a swift wind picked up, and John grabbed his arms and shuddered, dropping the key to the concrete landing he was standing on. It bounced once, ringing loudly in the silence of night, and then bounced again; it glimmered in the light of the street lamps as it fell towards the stairs which led back down from the second story landing to the street. John cursed and leapt toward the key, hoping to catch it before it fell.
He landed hard on his stomach, gasping as he did so, snatching out in front of him with both hands. When he looked up, his hands were cupped, the way you would catch a butterfly. John nervously opened them up, and sighed in relief as the small glittering object lay safely in his outstretched hands. John stood up slowly, brushing himself off with his free hand. He cursed again when he noticed he had torn his shirt. John ignored it and put the key in the lock, turning it clockwise. He heard the click and snap as the lock released. John removed the key and placed it back where it had been before, and covering it up with the mat. He then opened the door, and stepped in.
It was dark inside, pitch black, it seemed endless. John reached for the light switch by the door, finding it, flicked on the lights. As if by magic, the whole apartment was revealed. It wasn't a huge place, but enough for a couple to live in comfortably. From where John was standing in the doorway, there was a small hall, with a bathroom and coat closet on either side, then further in, the living room, kitchen, 2 bedrooms, and another bathroom. The whole thing was painted blue, another one of Jennie's ideas, with light brown carpet covering most of it. It wasn't much, but John and Jennie had loved it. But nowadays, John couldn't stand it, he hated coming home.
John walked in slowly, heading towards the kitchen; he passed a small end table next to the couch, with a few pictures on it. John didn't want to look at them, not now, but his body ignored him, reaching for the first golden frame, which was facing away from him. He started to get choked up even before turning it around; he knew which one it was. John's brain screamed at him, and tears built up in his eyes as he flipped it over.
Staring back at him was himself, a few years younger, and a little more handsome. He was wearing a plain grey t-shirt and jeans, with the sparkling blue ocean in the background. He was smiling slightly, and his arm was outstretched around the shoulders of the girl next to him. She was beautiful, truly stunning. Her slender body covered in jean-shorts and a blue tank top. Her head was tilted slightly, resting on John's shoulder, a large heartfelt smile spread across her angelic face, and the wind blowing through her soft brown fur, and beautiful brunette hair. Her deep, doe eyes stared at John, through him, into his soul. John stared back, his chest heaving as his breath quickened. John whimpered slightly as he put the picture back down, face down, on the table. He took a second to regain himself, coughed loudly, and continued walking to the kitchen. He would not cry, he forced himself not to. He would not break down, not after all he'd been through. That's what the booze was for. If he couldn't cry his sadness away, he'd drink it away.
"Excuses, Excuses, John," The voice in his head taunted, "Don't try to hide behind what happened."
John stopped at the door to the fridge and leaned against it, closing his eyes. The whole apartment reminded him of her. The paint, the spare key, the pictures, and furniture style, everything in his house brought her back into his mind. Even in his own home he could find no peace.
Ever since the accident, John had been struggling. With his job, with his family, with drinking. He had virtually no friends to speak of, and how could he? He hardly had spoken to anyone in 2 months. In essence, John had been suffering. Many people had tried to help him, but he had pushed them away; His mother, father, brother, even Jennie's old girlfriend from college, Aria. Aria had been friends with Jennie all her life, and John too once him and Jennie had started seeing one another in their second year at Michigan State University. But John had turned them all aside, leaving them to wonder what would happen to him, wondering if he would be okay.
John reached for the handle to the fridge door, when he noticed the bottle of whiskey on the counter. Red Captain, it was very good stuff. John deliberated for a second, and reached for the bottle.
"Fuck it, John thought to himself, why not finish it?"
John picked up the bottle, unscrewed the top, and brought it to his lips. Tipping his head back slowly, John let the fiery liquid splash into his mouth. John wasn't conservative as he took two big gulps. It tasted bitter and burned like fire as it went down. He brought the bottle away form his mouth, gasping for air as the whiskey hit his stomach. John wiped his mouth and made his way to the couch, grabbing a small blanket from a chair at the kitchen table.
John made it to the couch and let himself drop onto it. As he lay there, he clumsily brought the blanket over himself and placed the bottle on the table, taking another quick sip before placing it down, finishing it off empty. John coughed and turned over, letting sleep wash over him. He was so tired, so incredibly tired, emotionally and physically. The last 3 months had been hell for him, and sleep was his only reprieve. A sweet embrace of peaceful darkness. Pure, dreamless sleep. After about a minute, John passed into unconsciousness. It was half-booze, half exhaustion, but it was sleep, and that was good enough.
John was awoken sometime later by a knock at the door, he sat up slowly, letting out a large, loud yawn. The blanket was draped over his head. John pulled it off and shielded his eyes from the light as they got used to it. The knock came again. John groaned as he sat up and saw the clock, which read 2:30 in the morning. John got up without much enthusiasm.
"Who the hell could this be," he thought to himself angrily, "Its two in the god damned morning?"
Not a moment after, another knock came, followed by a small, but siren-like voice came through the door. It sounded worried, but confident. John recognized it immediately.
"John? John, open the door please. Are you alright? I know you're awake, I need to talk to you."
It was Aria. But what was she doing here? She must have heard, heard about what had happened the previous day. She would know after all, she worked with him. John hurried over to the door. Almost tripping over the couch itself, he stubbed his big toe hard on the corner of the wall. Grabbing it, and hopping to the door on one foot and swearing quietly, John reached for the doorknob.
He noticed his hand was shaking, trembling as he grasped the doorknob. He was nervous. What would he say to her? How could he say anything? That he was sorry he got himself fired from the job she had risked her own reputation to get for him? That he had drunk himself into unemployment, embarrassing her as he did so? John sighed a little, knowing he had to open the door, that he had to face her. He turned the doorknob slowly, pulling the door open as it squeaked on its hinges.
She was standing there, on the landing, hands in her pockets to shield them from the cold. She smiled a big smile as she saw him, her beautiful feline face beaming even in the cold January weather. Her perfect lioness body bundled up in a heavy black winter coat. Even as they stood there, her smiling at him, and John looking sheepishly away, he still could not help wishing she wasn't wearing anything at all.
John could not bring himself to look her in the eye, or even to greet her, he just stood there like a dumbstruck schoolboy, nervously staring at a beauty he had seen on the schoolyard. After an awkward minute, Aria broke the silence, in the trademark humor John had always admired.
"So, do you want to talk while we freeze our balls off? Or do you want to invite me in?"
John mumbled a quiet sorry and motioned for her to come in. She stepped in quick, taking off her coat and shaking off the cold. John admired her sleek figure as she took the coat off, looking away embarrassed as he found himself staring at her. Her body was amazing, from head to toe, she was like a goddess, a picture of beauty. Even more beautiful than Jennie, the thought stabbed John in the stomach like a knife. But he couldn't help thinking, that had Aria not been already going out with someone else when he met her, he would probably be with her right now.
Aria took off her boots, which were covered in snow, and placed them on the mat by the door. She then turned and smiled at John, who again could not bring himself to look at her straight. John hung his head a little and forced a small smile. She obviously noticed something was wrong, because her smile faded quickly. She took a cautious step toward John, her face suddenly contorted with worry and sadness.
"I heard about what happened today John, at the office. I'm sorry. I came to....can we sit down and talk maybe? I could use a beer if you have any."
John nodded and motioned for her to follow him. He offered her a seat, then made his way to the kitchen, opening it up and grabbing two beers, then closing it. As he made his way back he noticed her looking at the empty bottle of whiskey, holding it in her hands. He stopped, suddenly feeling very ashamed and embarrassed. Aria looked up and him and placed the bottle down, smirking at him and motioning for him to sit next to her.
He did, sitting down next to her on the couch, handing her one beer, and leaning his head down, so she could open it on his antlers. John had the perfect knot in them near the base of his forehead for opening bottles, and old joke originating from when they were in college together. She cracked the bottle open in one stroke, and they shared a laugh as John did the same.
As he was laughing, John caught her eye, and they looked at one another. John's laugh faded, and he found himself looking away quickly. Aria took a swig of her beer and placed it down, placing a hand on John's shoulder; he shivered a little at her touch.
"John, I came to see if you were okay. I know we haven't talked much since...since it happened, and at work you seem so distant, I can't talk to you anymore. You've changed, lord knows we all have, but I'm worried about you, I really am."
Aria gripped John's shoulder harder. John opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. He didn't know what to say, what could he say? He took a swig of his beer, keeping his eyes trained on the floor. Aria took her hand away from him, spoke again. Her voice choked up this time, as if she was going to cry.
"John...I'm so sorry that this happened to you. You didn't deserve it. But we were good friends, we ARE good friends John, and you need to talk to me."
John shook his head a little. He felt horrible, like he was cheating her. He wanted to talk to her about it, she deserved that much. She had been nothing but helpful and caring to him since Jennie's death. But he couldn't find the words. He was lost, lost so bad he couldn't find his way out. A minute or so passed, with John remaining silent. Suddenly, Aria burst out, John jumped in his seat as she startled him.
"God Dammit, John! Don't so this to me! Don't you fucking do this to me! I lost someone to, god dammit. I lost someone to! But you have to talk to me! I won't let you throw your life away. I love you to damn much to let that happen!"
John stared at her open-mouthed, dumbfounded. She yelled in anger and grabbed his beer from his hands, throwing it across the room. It smashed into the wall with a ear-shattering crash, with pieces of glass and beer flying everywhere. John sat completely frozen with shock as Aria stood, her chest heaving, her teeth bared, and suddenly, she softened. Her shoulders slumped, and she hurried to the wall. Grabbing a dishcloth from the table, she knelt down to clean up the mess.
"Oh god...oh god I'm so sorry. I just...I couldn't..."
John walked over and knelt down beside her, placing his hands on her shoulders, he brought her around so she was looking right in his eyes. Her face was scared, nervous, but John had made his decision. He knew she was feeling the same way he was, and he had found his courage. Since the accident he had been hiding it, suppressing it, stuffing it down, away from his heart. But not any longer, not now.
He brought her forward to him, bringing her in close, he felt her heart beating against his. He looked her right in the eyes, against every impulse in his body he stared right into her soul.
"John...what are you...I..."
John shook his head, and managed to find the words he had been struggling to find. The words he longed to tell her for months.
"Aria...I love you. Ever since Jennie's death, I've been hiding it from you. But you were there for me; you were so good to me. I've wanted you to know for so long."
And with that, he leaned forward, closing his eyes, and kissed her. Their lips connected, and John hugged her close. Aria's body went loose, and her arms crossed on John's back, closing their embrace. John's whole body felt tingly, and his mind was free. All he could think of was Aria. How good she felt in his arms, how good she tasted. Their tongues wrested in their mouths, exploring one another. It was a long kiss, and when it was over, they released one another, breathing heavily, their breath mixing together.
"So," Aria giggled, "it speaks."
John laughed a little to, and they remained close for a moment, before Aria pulled away a little, looking John in the face. John wanted her more than ever now, and with the lack of a love-life since Jennie's death, he could already feel his member throbbing in his jeans, yearning for her just as much as John. But still he felt like a fool.
"Aria," John said, "I'm sorry, that was wrong of me. I shouldn't have done that...I..."
"No," Aria said, "John don't. That was amazing, believe me. I'm...I'm glad you did it. I want you to know, I feel the same way about you."
John felt a rush in his chest, from his head to his toes. He smiled, the excitement almost too much now, he jeans were on the verge of splitting. Aria smiled again, and they kissed again, this time John brought his hands to her breasts, getting his hands under her blouse, cupping them gently. Aria let out a low moan, and the two of them got up, making their way to the bedroom.
Moments later, Aria was lying on the bed on her back, naked. Her incredible feline figure spread out over the sheets, shining in the moonlight coming in through the window. John was standing over her on the side of the bed, panting now, his own muscular figure heaving with his breath, his cock at full attention. John could not believe what was happening; it all felt like a dream, he kept expecting to wake up out of breath with wet sheets.
"John, love me. Take me." Aria moaned, eyes closed.
John crawled onto the bed, on all fours over her. Her started at the top, licking and nibbling on her breasts and nipples, then, making his way down, kissing her stomach, he got down to her muff. John smelled deeply, taking in her scent. Aria was quiet now, all but her breathing, which quickened with every inch that John went lower. John then dived into here, plunging his tongue into her sweet nethers. Aria let out a small shriek as he did so, purring louder and louder as John explored her pussy with impunity. His tongue lapped at her walls, her moans growing louder and louder. John savored every moment of her, her taste, her smell, was better than anything he had had before.
Soon enough, Aria screamed as she came, spraying he juices into John's mouth, who lapped them up like a thirsty dog. As John came up, he knelt over her, staring into her eyes, she looked back at him and smiled, bringing a hand up to feel all 7 inches of his throbbing cock. John trembled and moaned as she caressed him. Aria sat up a little, using her other hand to bring John down, so he was sitting Indian style in front of her on the bed. She then took down into her mouth, inch by inch.
"Oh god...," John mumbled to himself. Feeling her tongue cleaning him, her mouth massaging him, she began to bob her head up and down, sucking him off. After a moment, John lost himself in the waves of pleasure surging up and down his spine. But suddenly, she stopped, and came up to John and kissed him a little. She then turned around on all fours, lifting her tail out of the way to show John her exposed, and very messy cunt. Looking over her shoulder at him, her tail brushed against John's nose, enticing him.
"Fuck me, John. Like there is no tomorrow."
John got up on his knees, and brought his cock to the tip of her pulsing pussy. He rubbed the head on her entryway, teasing her. Then, in one quick motion, John drove his cock into her, almost all the way to the hilt. Aria grunted a little, shutting her eyes tight. John began to thrust, starting off slow, and then picking up the pace. It was amazing; he couldn't believe what he was feeling. Soon he was lost in her, lost in their love.
After what seemed like an eternity, Aria cried out as she came, spraying all over John's cock. As she clamped down on him, this drove John to the limit as well, exploding inside her forcefully, letting out a yell, his member pulsing with each spurt of cum.
When they were done, John dismounted and rolled over onto his back. His whole body felt spent, he had no energy left. Aria caught her breath, and rolled over so she was lying on top of him. She kissed him lovingly, and nuzzled him. John felt relaxed, he felt relieved, but most of all, he felt good. There was light now, light at the end of the tunnel. Hope, hope for him. In his ecstasy he nodded off slowly, Aria's warm body against his.
As John awoke, he found himself staring at the ceiling; he rolled over and got out of bed slowly, stretching his back and arms. He felt refreshed, somehow, renewed, like all his cares were washed away. He felt confident, he felt hopeful. He turned around and noticed Aria's sleeping body in the bed, and suddenly remembered it all.
Instantly, he felt nauseous, he felt dizzy, like he was going to vomit. What had he done? It was only 3 months since his wife's death, and he was fucking her best friend? John felt as if was going to faint, the lump in his throat growing larger. He tried to stumble to the bathroom, but only made it halfway, tripping in the sheets around the bed, and in his desperation, tipping over the nightstand next to the bed, sending the lamp there crashing down. John hit hard, knocking the wind out of him. A sudden wave of complete sadness washed over him, mixed with shame and guilt. All of a sudden, he turned into a child, feeling desperate and alone. The tears in his eyes, the pain in his heart, the cumulative suffering of the last 3 months finally caught up with him, and John burst into tears.
He sobbed, cried, sobbed, and cried some more. Crying like a scared child who's afraid of the monster in their closet at bedtime. Like a women at the end of a sad, romantic movie. John whole body heaved with each sob that escaped his lips. It was too much, just too much for him to bear any longer. Tears flowed from his eyes like an open faucet. He brought his hands up over his eyes, and cried.
That's when he felt her, felt her fall to her knees beside him. Felt her grab him with both arms. She picked him off the floor and pulled him to her chest, laying her head on his. She pulled him to her tight and whispered to him, over and over.
"John, is okay, it's going to be okay. I'm here now, I'll take care of you, and I'll be here for you John. Quiet now, it's alright. I'm here."
For what seemed like ages, John continued to sob into her chest, and she continued to comfort him. In these moments, when John was at his weakest, when he finally fell, she was there to catch him. When he finally broke, she was there to pick up the pieces. She was there, that's what was important. John knew then that he loved her. And it pained him like nothing else to do so, but he loved her.
When he was finished, he looked up at her. Her face was like an angel; loving, caring, compassionate, thoughtful, and loving. She wiped his tears from his eyes with her thumb, and kissed him on the forehead.
"I know what your feeling, John. Like you've betrayed her. But I know something, god help me, I know it now. This was meant to be, John. And I'm sure Jennie would have wanted it."
John was saved that day, saved from his own personal hell, from darkness; by light, by an angel, by a friend, by a lover... and by a knock at the door.