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I looked around the sweltering baggage claim area for a clock, and found one over the shuttered customer service desk: it was after 1:00am already. I was supposed to meet a new junior sales training coordinator here at this spot in Charlotte airport so that we could share a taxi to the hotel. I could see on the arrivals board that his flight had been on time. But he was not.

I waited, growling.

I ran a paw through my thick black headfur and looked at the clock again. Another 5 minutes had ticked by. This was not off to a good start. I'd heard that this new tiger (his name was David, I think?) was a promising and skilled young salesman. So while he was helping me run sales training in Charlotte this week, I was also supposed to be evaluating him. If all went well, I'd be promoting him to become a regional team lead. ("You'll like him, I promise", our travel coordinator Kathy had said.)

But now he was forcing me to spend more precious minutes in this hot, stinking airport, and that was bad. I was panting heavily and badly wanted to be somewhere cooler. I wanted to get into a taxi, get to the hotel, get out of this suit, and go the fuck to bed. I did not want to wait for a newbie cat to figure out how to find a baggage claim.

I felt a tap on my shoulder.

"Mr. Blackwolf?"

I turned. The first thing I noticed about David, other than that he was panting from a fast lope through the terminal to get here, was that he obviously spent a lot of time at the gym. His striped orange fur lay haphazardly over his broad shoulders, bulging arms, and thick, muscular neck. Atop this body was a gentle, worried-looking feline face with sharply pointed ears, long twitching whiskers, and striking golden eyes. Oh god, those eyes. (It's funny how the little details can stick in your memory.) He couldn't have been more than 23.

"Rob is fine, call me Rob. You must be David." I extended my arm to shake his paw and tried to make a smile. The kid's face exploded into an adorably goofy big, toothy smile of relief. He grabbed my paw, too hard, and pumped it enthusiastically.

"Yes! I'm David! Well, Davey. People call me Davey, I mean. Call me Davey." He continued to grip my forepaw as he babbled, which I found awkward but maybe a little cute. "Sorry I'm so late. I was at the back of the plane. So crowded. It won't happen again."

"It's not a problem," I lied. "Nice to meet you, Davey." I finally wrenched my paw free of his. "Look, can we get the hell out of here? Grab your bag and let's go."

Davey nodded vigorously, the worried look returning. He scanned the pile of luggage, his long pink tongue sticking out to the side of his muzzle in stern concentration. After a minute he spotted an old, olive green duffle bag: his apparently. He suddenly bounded over the pile to claim it, his long orange tail arc'ing after his muscular ass like a streamer.

This was going to be a long week.

Davey stared nervously at the ceiling in the hotel lobby while I checked us in and got our rooms. I filled out the guest form and tried not to think about my 6am setup appointment, just 4 hours from now.

"Okay you're all set, Mr. Blackwolf," said the little red fox working reception. "Here are your key-cards, room 204. It's just upstairs."

"Thanks. And what about the other room for my colleague here?" I looked expectantly at the fox, who returned a blank stare.

"Other room? Your company's travel coordinator booked this room for two animals through Friday morning. There's no second reservation, I'm afraid, and unfortunately we're booked solid this week." She glanced at Davey behind me, who continued to seem preoccupied by the lobby chandelier. She looked back at me apologetically, shrugging.

"Kathy, oh Kathy," I swore under my breath. "You will suffer for this mistake. There's two beds, at least?"

The fox laughed. "Yes, of course sir. Enjoy your stay."

"Alright." I turned around and held out the key-card. "C'mon, Davey, here's your room key. Looks like you're bunking with me for the week." He smiled his toothy smile again and took the key from my paw, brushing my pawfur with his just the tiniest bit as he did so. Then he turned and bounded up the lobby stairs, taking them three at a time. I almost expected him to shout "Slumber Party!!!" as he headed for the room.

I sighed.

I laid out some clothes for the morning and unpacked my suitcase on the bed by the window. Davey had already emptied his huge army duffel out onto the other bed and disappeared into the bathroom. As I was pulling out my toothbrush, I heard the shower turn on.

So Davey was a bath hog. Great.

Not having expected Kathy to betray me on hotel room logistics, I hadn't brought anything like bedclothes that would have been polite to wear in a shared room with a coworker. Normally I just drop my clothes at the door and stay naked in the privacy of my hotel room. But regardless of politeness, it was just too hot and humid to wear these clothes a second longer.

Oh well.

Panting, I stripped down to nothing but the tight red underwear I had on, waiting with growing impatience for Davey to get out of the bathroom. But as I turned, I noticed that he'd left the bathroom door wide open. I was way too tired to think further about it, so I just grabbed my toothbrush and went in to use the sink.

In place of a shower curtain, the shower had one of those "european style" clear glass half-walls surrounding the tub. So there was no way not to see Davey standing in the shower, soaked and naked. I made a half-hearted attempt to avoid looking, but with all the mirrors in the place, it was hard not to. And at what I saw, it was hard not to stare.

Davey was shampooing his shock of white headfur. His fur was totally soaked, slicked flat and showing me every muscle that I had imagined was there. I watched as the sudsy soap bubbles ran down over his closed eyes, down past his sharp chin and that muscular neck, landing on the wet fur of his bulging chest. From there they continued along Davey's implausibly perfect six-pack abs, which channeled the water into a small river leading down from his navel.

His sheath was thick, pointing straight up just above a pair of big balls in his fuzzy scrotum. A bright red cock head peeked out of his furry sheath just a little bit. Even soft, I could tell that he had a very nice package between those thick, defined thighs. And I could feel myself getting a bit hard watching his amazing body gleaming in the water and steam.

Perhaps this shared room situation was not so bad.

I looked up and realized that I had locked eyes with Davey, who had rinsed his face, opened his eyes, and was now staring right back at me with a grin. I looked away quickly--- or tried to, but there was just another mirror, and another view of Davey's naked, muscular feline form. I looked down at the black fur on my large forepaws and tried to think something coherent.

"It's okay," he said, "I'm not shy! I have four brothers." Then he turned around to rinse his chest, giving me a clear view of his perfect, round ass peeking out behind his long tail. His slim waist and flexing back muscles were even easier to see now that he was soaked and naked.

"Sorry kid," I stammered. "Lost my train of thought. I'm very tired. Anyway you have a very nice body, obviously. You must work hard on it. Your mate must appreciate all your..." I looked up at him again. "...efforts."

Davey finished rinsing and turned off the water. He reached past me as I stood at the sink, grabbing a towel from the rack behind me. In the process he brushed his broad, soaking wet chest against the fur of my back. I was annoyed that he'd gotten me wet, but I couldn't ignore the blood rushing to my cock as I felt his touch. I growled softly and leaned closer to the sink, both to make room and to hide my growing boner. He didn't seem to notice.

"Yeah I do work out a lot, thanks!" he said cheerfully. "But I'm between girlfriends at the moment." He ran the towel carelessly through his fur and then wrapped it around his waist. "I was hoping to go out some nights this week and hit the local bars. You've been to Charlotte before, haven't you? Are there any good places to meet the ladies? I'm not picky on species."

I chuckled, splashing some water across the black and gray fur of my muzzle. "Well first of all, nobody calls them 'the ladies', Davey." He grinned and blushed at that, looking at the floor. "And yes, I've been here before. There's not a lot going on, so I wouldn't have high hopes for meeting females here, tigers or otherwise."

He looked a bit disappointed as he turned to leave the bathroom, so I quickly added, "Look, with our training schedule this week, tomorrow is going to be your best bet. There's a decent cocktail bar two blocks from here that does a karaoke night on Tuesdays. There are girls your age that go to that, and they'll love a cute tiger who sings. You said you're not shy, right?"

Davey perked up at this. "That sounds like fun! I can't sing for shit, but I can certainly drink." Exiting the bathroom, he dropped the towel on the floor, giving me one last look at his firm ass before he slid into bed.

"Perfect," I said. "Good night."

Continue to part 2 of 4