Hands Free
Sunday morning in the call center, and the place was empty and dead as usual. Not too many drivers went out on the weekends so a skeleton crew of one could handle the call volume pretty easily.
Admittedly, the comforts of a low-stress, low-activity job had been putting the pounds on, so "skeleton crew" was probably not the first thing people would have thought when they saw me. "Pudgy rabbit" might've come to mind if one was feeling charitable; I was getting really round though and "fatass" might have been a better descriptor lately.
I squeezed my fat ass into my chair, turned on the computer, and got logged in.
There would be Sundays sometimes when there'd be no calls at all. Mostly I spent the time on silly browser games or trolling Reddit.
First things first though. I reached into my backpack and pulled out the ol' breakfast of champions--or champeens, anyway--a rather large bag of Cheetos that had been on sale at the gas station. And this is why you're pushing four hundred pounds, said my inner fat-shamer.
I didn't let it get to me. If the landlord ever gets around to fixing the kitchen, I thought, then maybe I can get to putting healthy food together again.
You don't need working kitchen appliances to eat an apple every now and then, lardo.
Yeah, I love myself sometimes. Luckily I didn't have real self-esteem problems; I'd long ago learned to see intrusive thoughts as artifacts of a silly organic brain that wasn't really built for living happily.
Truth is, I really like being fat. Any gym bunny will tell you about the appeal of intimidating people with one's bulk; it just so happens that there's another way to build bulk that doesn't require you to break a sweat.
I started chomping down the Cheetos as my other paw pulled out my phone so I could get caught up on the Internet.
Man, I love this job. I used to do the lame fast food jobs, the kind where there's the manager who hates you and there's you hating the manager and there's "If you've got time to lean" and "you can't fire me, I quit". Here I get to sit down, the boss is doing the same work I am, and I get practically a whole day to myself to hang out and jerk off.
I'd managed to get my boyfriend a job here--he shared the double cubicle with me--and I keep trying to talk my brother into applying, but even with harder work and worse pay he seems to like his job at the donut shop. To be fair, it has its perks--ever since he got moving up the ladder he's been able to bring home some of the unsold donuts... and usually he'd feed 'em to me while we watched YouTube in the evenings... and he'd tell me how big and soft I was getting, and he'd let me eat out his ass...
I put down my phone and undid my pants, which were tenting to the point of uncomfortableness. I'm really lucky to have a brother who's always there to help me get off, and a boyfriend who's really into watching twins go at it.
More good memories started coming back.
I did the office-prairie-dog thing of peeking over the cubicle walls to make sure there really was nobody else around. The coast was clear.
I squeezed back into my chair--I really was going to have to switch to a seat without armrests soon--and reached down to stroke my eager shaft.
This wasn't the first time I'd jerk off at work. Sometimes even if people were around I'd do it on the sly. What can I say, I'm a rabbit, I have a high sex drive.
As my stomach rumbled, I considered it'd be nice if rabbits had more hands too. One paw covered in cheeto dust and one paw on cock means no paws to pull up sexy pics of your brother.
Well, necessity is the mother of invention. I let go of my dick, propped the phone up against my keyboard, and brought up my favorite picture--me and Tom kissing (shut up, he's a great kisser) while my boyfriend tried to measure our dicks. We both have pretty fat pieces, and he was teasing us by wrapping the tape measure around our dicks, back and forth, numbering off the inches as he went.
That was a great day.
I took a mouthful of Cheetos and got back to work on my dick, stroking it as I half watched the picture and half remembered how we all boned each other afterwards.
The screen faded after a moment, then went to black as the auto-lock kicked in. Dammit.
I punched my passcode into the phone and grumbled. I really don't have enough hands for this.
I talked about necessity, right? Mother of invention. Surely others have had this trouble as well--surely there'd be an app for that.
My dick flagged a little as I neglected it in favor of hunting down a photo app that could operate hands-free.
I was grateful for the extra-large bag of Cheetos as I waited for the download, waited for the splash screen, waited through the Ads That Keep This App Free, clicked past the rate-me-now button (seriously?) and hunted down the picture again.
There we go.
I propped the phone back up against the keyboard and went back to work squeezing some life back into my cock. A couple of moments later and the picture changed, with a cheap star wipe effect.
Oh. Okay, it's a slideshow mode.
With the new picture, I wasn't going to complain: it was the time Tom and Javin decided to give me a two-fur bukkake session, the two guys taking turn blasting loads across my muzzle again and again until neither of them could even get it up any longer.
This picture was my face, absolutely drenched in their delicious cum, while my rhino boyfriend was working hard trying to add another load to his slutty mate.
My boys were so good at their job.
Upward wipe, and a new photo took its place--a close-up pic of my thick dick plowing my brother's hole. I munched my Cheetos as I jerked myself, imagining his comfortable tightness and daydreaming of the long-forgotten day we first played together.
Venetian blinds wipe, and there was a picture of Javin, the big rhino sprawled out in our bed, the outline of his hard shaft bulging through a pair of red briefs--the only thing he was wearing, but man did he wear it well.
Picture after picture slid in and out of view, and I rubbed my finger along my glans, getting myself pretty close to shooting.
I was just reminiscing about that one time when Tom had just got done railing me and I was still ass up and getting my breath back when Javin came home unexpectedly and added his load alongside, when the phone decided to ruin my day and start ringing.
(So which paw do you answer the phone with--orange-powder paw or sticky-precum paw?) I figured I should pretend to be professional, put my dick down, wiped both paws off on my pants, and did my job for a few minutes.
The trouble with the weekend dispatch is that while there may not be many jobs, the ones that are are important. I lost my bone again as the call dragged on, the customer joined in on the line and started a rant, and I wistfully watched the slideshow of good memories passing by on my cell.
As the bickering between the driver and the customer escalated, I started to get impatient. I slapped the mute button, tucked the handset between ear and shoulder, and went back to work on my dick.
I'm on the clock, after all--should be making the most of my time.
I felt my belly shake as I jerked myself back to hardness, back to the brink of orgasm, passing through a whole set of photos from our last birthday, where quite a lot of our friends showed up to play.
Me and Tom outlasted everyone, showing 'em all what "going at it like rabbits" really means. I spent that whole night after everyone went home sucking from my brother's cock and getting sucked in return.
I felt it coming, my balls tensing as I prepared to shoot my load, when I noticed the voice in my ear had been calling my name. "John--still with me?"
I reached for the button to unmute, but my body had already crossed the line--even though my hands had left my dick, my climax still came. I gasped out hard as my dick went off, and I was helpless to stop it as a powerful splat of cum hit the monitor.
"St--still here," I said. "Sorry, I was--fuck--" My dick was still shooting and had managed to hit the phone keypad as well as the back of the cubicle. "Sorry, sorry. Having a bit of a... clumsy moment." I covered the head of my dick to keep the explosion contained, but with cum spurting through my fingers it was difficult to do my job.
I ended the call as gracefully as I could and dropped the handset on the desk, not even bothering to hang up as I looked for something to clean up with. My paws were too sticky to touch anything without making it worse. Usually someone had wet wipes around...?
I popped myself out of my chair and started looking around, pants still open and dick hanging out. Absolutely nothing nearby to clean up with.
I waddled off to the restrooms in the back, doing my best to keep my pants from falling down while trying not to get them too cummy or crummy.
It was a relief to get my paws under the sink.
As I cleaned off my paws, working hard to scrub out the congealing cum before it matted my fur, I noticed the restroom door opening up behind my reflection in the mirror and my blood froze solid with terror.
"Care to explain the absolute mess at your desk?"
The tone was stern, but the voice was a reassurance.
"Javin." My rhino came up behind me and reached his arms around my belly. "You nearly gave me a heart attack. Help me clean up?"
The door clicked shut behind him, and I felt him grinding playfully under my tail.
"Nope."