Overtime · Odd Note Found on the Bus · Breakfast for Two

Story by Timbe on SoFurry

, , , , , , ,


Hey, guess what? I'm still around, suckahs!

I wrote most of this while sick. And after reading some Murakami and Gibson. And on my little Nokia on a keyboard smaller than my hand. There were issues. And there might still be some issues. Well, whatever. Just throwin' that out there.

Some interesting stuff about this: The hobby mentioned I don't think had a name. So I made one up. I couldn't find any info on it, but apparently there's a book on it somewhere. I wanna read it. Anyways, the note mentioned is a note I found. I was awestruck for a moment, and then I smiled. I love doing stuff like that. I think I might start a website for the hobby. Dunno yet. Also, this is the first full story I wrote in a while. And I haven't had much experience with M/F stories. I have no idea what prompted me to write this. Probably the NyQuil. Onto legalities. There is sex in this story. It shouldn't be my job to say this, but you need to be of a certain age to view this material. Unless you don't give a damn, then I don't care either. The characters are copyright me, Timbe, and shouldn't be used without my permission. Any and all comments are appreciated and encouraged, provided they're insightful and helpful. I (and by this I mean my ego) don't mind the occasional "I came" comment, but eh...And anyone taking the time to read this can spend thirty seconds writing something on here after they paw off. Don't be lazy. Please. It's annoying to have 800+ of views and maybe one or two comments. That said, hope you enjoy. :3 ♥

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Slowly, her out-tray began to overshadow her in-tray. Coffee cup to her lips, Sophie Parsons leaned back in her office-supplied swivel chair, not without a hint of satisfaction. Her boss had been on her case to finish up her reports before the end of the month. The twenty-seventh of November had rolled along, and she had hardly made a dent in her workload. For some reason or another she could just not bring herself to focus on her work for more than a few moments.

This work consisted of a series of yes or no answers, simple enough in and of itself. However, in the adult world, outside of a classroom setting these sorts of jobs were exquisitely painful, took painstaking effort and could make or break you or your clients. It was not a matter of getting an F, one misstep, anything less than one hundred percent was unacceptable. The one saving grace of this, Sophie often reminded herself, was that with the right mindset, a persuasive personality and, let us face it, a vagina, you could pass off a â€wrong†answer as â€right.†It was how she made her living, though the part of her conscience that had at first objected to this line of work was now dulled, only throbbing slightly when overloaded with these decisions.

As she was now, sitting at her desk at six thirty at night. Working at a cosmetic company was supposed to be glamorous, was it not? What the bloody hell happened with that?

â€Focus, Marcus is at home. Candlelight dinner. Anniversary.†She had repeated this mantra all day when she began to show signs of dissatisfaction. It was her and her husband’s third anniversary. One of her colleagues, a good friend, had given her a wrapped package of what she could only assume were the melon-flavoured condoms she had hinted at enjoying so much earlier that week.

Giving them a quick pat, she smiled weakly to herself, took a quick swig of luke-warm coffee as though it were whisky and she were out at sea, and turned her attention back to the pile of work in front of her. Half an hour more of work would be fine. Keeping a pace like that would mean that by the thirtieth, she would be done, and probably by five thirty. Sophie was always the one who did this sort of work. Of course, behind every great model there were a hundred stylists, consultants and researchers, and behind them a thousand marketers. Somehow, by God’s grace, she could only assume, she had been promoted from marketing to consulting, where they thought her talents truly lay.

Not that she could not be a model herself, they had said; in fact, she was truly and naturally beautiful. The problem, as she had been told at an office party that Spring, was that their line-up for that year would simply not work for her. Or rather, that she would not work for them, as the case may be. That said, who knew what the coming years would bring? One of the higher-ups had told her in what he would later say was an off-the-books remark, and that her beauty might be just what they needed.

He was fired in the summer for reaching up a model’s skirt. They wanted to keep the stink under wraps, so no one said, nor did anyone want to say, anything.

And that was how her dream of being a model was destroyed. Sophie, under the corporate spell of regulations, was unable to tell her employers what she had been told by this man. Despite his debauchery, he did what he did well, scouting out talent, and was well respected. They would have listened to him. Now he worked for another company, unable to even contact anyone at hers due to restraining orders that were not uncommon for models. Seven o’clock. Sophie sighed, placed one more stapled report into her out-tray and put her arms behind her head, stretching. What did it matter if she did not get to be a model? She still was able to influence fashion, which, she had decided since the incident, was a sort of secondary dream to her. Her nice looks helped her out here and there, and that was just fine with her.

Standing at about five foot elven inches, Sophie looked a lot like an early bloomer from high school. True, she had looked like this since grade twelve, when she was seventeen-years-old. Now twenty-five, it was a source of annoyance. Her breasts, A-sized and pert as the day she graduated, she really did look like a child playing the part of an adult until a big person came along to tell her play time was over. When excited her canine tail would wag back and forth with such ferocity that she once gave a coworker a bruise. Her face, though, always maintained an elegant simplicity, partially due to the angle of her muzzle and the shape of her eyes. She resembled a pedigree thoroughbred, without any of the stuck-up nature that came with those types. To top it off her body was trim, covered with pure golden fur, with little to no trace of fat. She was lean, but by no means underfed or malnourished. In essence, she was beautiful. Not stripper beautiful, but like the kind of girl who worked as a banker.

Thankfully, she had inherited her mother’s modesty as well as her good looks. She was not vain, nor did she let her beauty get to her head. She knew what she had, what she could do with it and when she should use it. Intelligence and beauty. In school you would say the two could not coexist. Not in Sophie’s school, which existed in seemingly another dimension.

Boarding schools were weird.

Sophie stood up, pacing around her office to get some feeling back in her cramped legs, and pulled her red jacket off the back of her chair. It complemented her fur and the black dress she was currently wearing. She stopped in front of her fourteenth-story window, more to check her reflection than anything else. Long red jacket, black camisole, short black skirt.

Purse full of melon condoms. Tonight was going to be a wonderful night.

She took the stairs all the way down, as was her routine every day. It took work to maintain a figure like hers. She greeted the janitor with a smile and a curt bow, who responded in kind, removing his hat as he did so. Kind soul, he was. For whatever reason, Sophie did not drive. When asked in conversation, she could trump up at least half a dozen reasons why. The real reason, which she could not bring herself to explain nor could she actually justify it was that she just did not want to. Having no qualms with public transport, Sophie did not see the need to clog the arteries of the city any more than it already was.

She felt as though everyone on the road should thank her, not attempt to run her over while running a red light. Ungrateful bastards.

It took no time at all for her bus to come around, for which she was quite grateful. A quick flash of her monthly bus pass and she was seated towards the front of the near empty bus. She shared a few words with the driver, who congratulated her on her anniversary. The rest of the ride went on in relative silence. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a folded up piece of paper a few seats up from her. Excitement gripped her and she reached for it, unfolding it. Four short sentences lined the cue card-shaped piece of paper. 1984 We are now fighting a never ending

war.

We don’t know against who

but we accept it.

Now they’ll be watching

you. Her excitement turned to intrigue. This was easily one of the more interesting and unique notes she had found. It was part of a hobby her friend Jeffrey explained to her, which they both take part in and share their discoveries. â€InfoCaching,†it was called, and there was a small online community devoted to these random little notes left lying around. It was not about where they came from, but rather a small fragment of information, segregated from the rest and taken out of context. Pretty harmless as far as hobbies go. It satiated a childish curiosity in her that would otherwise eat at her.

Sophie smiled and put the note neatly in her purse to catalogue later. Tonight was to be spent in a more...pleasurable manner. Not that she did not derive any pleasure from InfoCaching, but there was a time and a place.

The bus let her off a block away from her apartment, the time now seven thirty. Marcus had said he would be making a nice dinner, and she had been looking forward to that ever since she had started working overtime and eating take-out. She walked briskly up the street, pulling the keys to her apartment out of her purse. Reaching the door she fumbled with her keys, then made her way up the stairs, then out to the hallway of the seventh floor. The door was unlocked, as she had been told it would be. Sophie turned the knob and pushed the door open, the only visible light in the apartment coming from a flickering candle in the small dining room.

â€Hey love, I’m home,†Sophie called out into the pale darkness, hanging her jacket up be the door. No answer. â€...Marcus...?â€

She made her way to the source of light, which was a difficult feat in the dark. When she got to the table, she found her husband sitting down, arms folded. And on the table was a bottle of white wine.

Cat’s Pee on a Gooseberry Bush.

Seeing this, Sophie sighed and sat down opposite her husband, knowing full well he only liked to drink this when something was horrible wrong â€...Alright, out with it. What’s wrong?â€


Eleven at night. Friday. This was normally the prime time for new uploads of recently discovered InfoCaches accumulated over the week.

F5.

Jeffrey waited patiently as the forums reloaded. Nothing new. Some meaningless right-wing political commentary from one of the more zealous members of the forums, but no new discoveries. Sophie was normally on by now, having at least a handful of tidbits to share with the community. These notes seemed to be attracted to her, somehow. Ah, right, but tonight was her anniversary. She would be online tomorrow, and would apologize profusely for being late with her update. Standing up, Jeffrey paced the room before going to make some tea. One would think that being a professional vocalist would be an easy job. Not true. After a long day his throat would sometimes be sore. Nothing that a little tea would not help, but still, it did not make it any less of a pain to deal with.

He was a feline, about five foot eleven inches tall. He was neither thin or heavy, and had no real distinguishing features, aside from his almost feminine handsomeness, as it is best described. His fur was white, with the odd grey streak here and there. His friends often made jokes about him being an old man, even though he was only twenty-three.

The kettle boiled, and he threw two earl grey tea bags into his favourite steel teapot. He poured the hot water over the bags and breathed deeply, letting the bergamot steam seep into his body. This was his favourite part of making tea, just smelling it as it steeped. It helped him focus when he was about to set out to catalogue the week’s caches.

Before he could pour himself a cup of tea he heard a knock at the front door, weak but insistent. No normal person would come calling at this hour, unless they had a very good reason to do so. Placing the teapot back on the counter, Jeffrey grabbed a knife from the drawer, hiding it in the waistband of his jeans, then walked slowly towards the door, waiting for the next set of knocks. When they came he opened the door cautiously, only a crack at first, then all the way as he saw Sophie standing in his doorway, tears silently streaming down her face. Not a word was spoken. Jeffrey motioned for her to enter and she did as such, practically throwing herself onto his couch. Not knowing what to do or why his best friend was in such a state, he merely knelt down beside the couch and stroked her hair until her trembling subsided somewhat.

â€...Tea?†Jeffrey offered.

She contemplated this for a moment before answering, â€...Only if it’s earl grey...â€

Jeffrey could see a hint of a smile on her face, for which he was relieved. He would get the story out of her over a cup or two, â€Of course, dear,†he stood up, then helped Sophie into a sitting position before going out to the kitchen, pouring their tea just the way they liked it; a splash of milk for him, a little more for her and some sugar. Then, forgetting the knife in his waistband until then, he placed it silently back on the counter, feeling guilty for his paranoia. When he came back to the living room, teacups in hand, he saw Sophie, practically catatonic, staring at the wall. He set her tea on the coffee table in front of the couch, then sat down next to her, trying to gauge the situation. The last thing he wanted was to make things worse.

â€...Cat’s pee?†Jeffrey asked, knowing the events that usually preceded these night time visits.

A vague nod. Sophie reached out for her tea, still looking at the wall, and took three tries to bring it to her lips.

â€Did...Did you want to talk about it? If not that’s fine too...†Really he just wanted to be helpful, but given their situation, he found this quite difficult.

Sophie remained silent for a moment, then closed her eyes, placing the tea back down on the table. â€...The fucker...†she started, trying to keep her voice under control, â€...said he’d been cheating on me...for ten months now...Wants a divorce...†She sounded more tired than upset.

â€And of all nights to bring it up it has to be tonight. I’m sorry...†Most people would merely say this just because that was proper friend protocol when these things happened. Jeffrey really was sorry, though. Sophie had done a lot for her over the last few years, he really did not like seeing her like this. Sophie just shook her head, â€Don’t apologize...These things happen, right? But it explains why he didn’t want to have sex nearly as much this last year...Figures, he was sleeping with a guy.

â€He said they both tested negative for anything nasty, and that I shouldn’t worry. He also told me that it wasn’t my fault, and that he intended on leaving me most everything. Still...â€

â€Leaves a bad taste in your mouth, huh?†Having experienced something similar in the past, he could relate, though that was not important right now.

She shook her head again, then leaned over, wrapping her arms around him, â€...I’ve been nothing but faithful to him...Maybe I was wrong...I’ve missed out on a lot of things while I was with him, that’s for sure...†She cuddled into Jeffrey, her head resting on his chest.

Jeffrey gulped, tentatively wrapping his arms around her, searching for the right words to say. Thankfully this was something he was good at, â€...You’re talking like your life is over. There’s still plenty of years ahead of you, dear...There’s no reason something amazing won’t happen to you over the next few months, right?†He felt Sophie nod against his chest, her weight shifting so she was now looking up into his eyes, â€...You’re so sweet, Jeff, you always know how to cheer me up,†she paused, now resting a paw against his chest, â€...I’d still like to make this night a wonderful one, though...â€

Without warning, Sophie pulled herself up against Jeffery’s body, her entire weight now on top of him, and kissed him deeply, closing her eyes. Jeffrey had not been expecting a late night visit from Sophie, let alone something as amazingly weird as this. He reminded himself that this was not a time for thinking, and instead tried his best to enjoy himself, and help Sophie have a ‘wonderful night.’

Shaking himself out of his daze, Jeffrey closed his eyes, his arms now holding onto her tightly, stroking her hair slowly. Sophie’s chest pressed against his, sending a twinge down his spine which ended up in his crotch. Her tongue lustfully licked his lips, whimpering a little as she did so. Maybe she was desperate, or maybe his steadily growing erection was poking her in just the right place. He opened his lips for her, greeting her tongue with his own as he placed his paw on her cheek in an attempt to make this feel that much more sensual. Their lips remained locked for a time as their tongues wrestled in the no-man's land between their mouths. Sophie moved once more to straddle Jeffrey, now rocking slowly against his erection. If it were anyone else he would have felt guilty, but if this was what Sophie wanted who was he to argue? He thrust back against her and they both started to quietly groan into each other’s mouths. It was much like Jeffery’s fantasies, he could not ask for much more.

Sophie pulled away first, panting, eyes still closed. She lowered herself back against Jeffery’s body, burying her face in his neck, still grinding against him weakly. They both whimpered every now and then, a subtle reminder of the position they were in. She nibbled his neck. He kissed the top of her head. The closeness they experienced was exquisite.

â€...Let’s go back to your room...†Sophie whispered, still hiding her face.

Just what sort of night was this turning out to be? Sophie showed no signs of making the first move to get up, so Jeffrey purred a quiet, â€Alright...†stroking her hair once before attempting to slide out from underneath her. Complying, Sophie rolled off of him, taking a firm hold of his paw, a cute, innocent school-girl look about her. It was that air about her that he would masturbate to almost every night. Thou shalt not covet my ass. He led her to his room, down the dark hallway, his room illuminated only by the haze of a near-full moon behind precipitational cloud cover. As he went to turn on the light, Sophie's paw stopped him, taking his paw in her own and bringing it to her chest. She moved closer and stood on her toes, kissing him briefly as Jeffrey softly kneaded her breast, eliciting quiet moans from the shorter canine.

After a few moments of this, Sophie made it clear she had had enough. The room had sufficient light for whatever she had planned for the evening, and she pushed Jeffrey onto his own bed with force he did not think she even owned. â€Take off your clothes...†she murred from a darker corner of the room.

He did as he was told, remaining on his back on his bed. The odd thing was that this all felt so right. As he slipped his â€death by pancakes†boxers off, he felt a sense of complacency he had never felt with any of his exes. True, from the moment he had met Sophie he felt that they should have been together. He was crushed when he learned that she was engaged, and it took every particle of sense in him not to say why the two should not be wed. Life was full of these little regrets, but they make the sweeter things in life that much sweeter. Now completely naked on his bed, he watched as Sophie came into the soft moonlight of the room, wearing nothing but her black camisole. He knew she wore nothing under that from a drunken conversation they had had a few years back. Her small breasts simply did not warrant a bra. As she walked towards the bed Jeffery's eyes were glued between her legs, a pale slit outlined by wetness, barely visible in this light.

It was a highly sexual experience, like something straight out of an erotic story.

Sophie climbed on top of the bed, straddling Jeffery's stomach. She gazed down at him, her eyes half closed, giving him the most sensual look he had ever seen on a woman. She was simply gorgeous, and his member agreed with this, poking her between her cheeks. She giggled quietly, pulling down the left strap of her camisole, a better part of her breast and cleavage visible.

She leaned forward a little bit, letting him see down her shirt a little more, her sex now firmly pressed against his stomach fur, matting it down with its accumulated wetness. Their tails wagged recklessly, crashing into each other with an odd irregularity. Sophie began to rock back and forth on his stomach, closing her eyes and letting her mouth open just a little bit. â€...Jeffrey..I've wanted this for so...so long...†she whimpered, slowly gathering speed, â€And I knew that you wanted this too...I've kept it a secret, but I knew how you felt about me...â€

â€Wh-wha...?†Jeffrey stammered. He was certain not to let any of his feelings for her show when she was around. There was simply no way she could know, â€...How?â€

â€Tibertus79,†she said simply, with each rock of her hips she moved closer to his member, much to both of their delights.

Tibertus79 was a member of the InfoCache forums, one of the most respected members. They had been friends for years, discovering the small caches and helping to cultivate the site and the hobby's fanbase. Of course He had told him about Sophie. When Sophie joined she found all the really interesting InfoCaches. Naturally, they began speaking on a regular basis. That must have been when he told her.

â€...Bastard...†Jeffrey mumbled before moaning, his member coming in contact with her slit.

Sophie squeaked, letting the other strap of her shirt fall from her shoulder. She pushed the shirt down so it was resting around her hips, which were spread across his, â€Oooh...I'm glad he told me, otherwise this might not have happened...†she paused, as if to give this some thought, â€...Well, maybe not...You've done so much for me...If I were to do this with anyone other than my husband...†she lifted herself up on her knees, grabbing hold of his member. With some effort, she guided it towards her sex and winced a little as the head entered her body, â€...It would be with you...†What could Jeffrey possibly say to that? He decided not to say a word, instead focusing on the beautiful image before him. He was penetrating woman on his dreams, whom he would have considered jailbait had he not known she was older than him. Her small, naked breasts, in the moonlight, looked even more petite, which was a big turn on for him. The look on her face slowly shifted towards pleasure as she slid down his seven inches of length, and with her free hand she began to fondle her breasts.

This was even better than his fantasies. She had made it perfectly clear that she was in charge, and so he let her do things at her own pace. Her muscles contracted around his member, her abundant wetness dripping down onto his scrotum. She did say she had not had much sex in ten months, but this amount of wetness was ridiculous.

Tilting her head back she slowly and carefully began to pull herself off of his member, mouth slightly agape. With the same amount of patience she exhaled, pressing her sex flush against his crotch. It was heaven, making love with Sophie in moonlight. She began to pick up speed after a few moments of getting used to the feeling of him inside of her and Jeffrey, eager to please, began to move with her. The sound of their making love egged them on, and she leaned forward so as to thrust at a better angle. Her breasts pressed tightly against his chest, she tilted her head up and moaned into his ear. She was just like a sex-deprived little girl, desperate to be pleased, and to please in turn. And so she did. Her vagina milked his member, his pre starting to mix with her vaginal fluids. He could feel his climax approaching, and he knew that hers, too, was not far behind. In a daring move, he flipped her over, pinning her arms down just to see the pleasured and shocked look in her eyes. She gasped, his member leaving her body for just one moment before it dove back into her sex sharply, followed shortly by a loud, pleasure-induced scream.

Sophie arched her back in response, gasping. Jeffrey took this opportunity to fulfil one more fantasy, and kissed down her neck slowly, to her collarbone, then down her chest, taking a nipple in his muzzle. The sounds this elicited from her muzzle were music to his ears. As he suckled, licked and nipped her nipple, she would moan, whimper and scream for him.

Jeffrey had no idea how long they had been making love. It could have been half an hour, it could have been six hours. It did not feel like long enough to him, though. Still, he could not put off his climax any longer. He stroked Sophie's cheek, thinking this would communicate his thoughts to her. She nodded, gasping quietly, closing her eyes. Her inner walls had been spamming around his member for a short while now. Was she waiting for him? Their pelvises crashed against each other's like a caveman trying to start a fire. Tenderly, Jeffrey leaned down and kissed Sophie, still stroking her cheek as he gave a few final quick thrusts. Once more Sophie's back arched, and they moaned into each other's mouth. His orgasm his him like a tidal wave, violently shaking him. He filled her with his seed, sending her over the edge as well. Their lips parted as she screamed and he moaned. riding the waves of their orgasms. One they had come down from their respective highs, Jeffrey collapsed onto her, panting heavily.

They lay like this for some time, the moon shifting position out behind the clouds. Shivering a little, Jeffrey grabbed the sheet from the corner of his bed and wrapped it around them, snuggling into what he hoped would end up being his new lover. Already she was asleep, breathing softly into his neck.

It would not be long before he joined her.


Jeffrey awoke the next morning alone in bed, sheet covering only his chest, his nether regions exposed to the cloud-veiled sunlight. He wondered if last night really happened. Then he spotted the pile of clothes that certainly did not belong to him in the corner half behind his door. He and Sophie really did make love last night. He was unsure whether to be ecstatic or worried as hell. From the kitchen he heard the sizzling of bacon. Trying to flush his mind of all doubts, he slipped on a pair of boxers and dress pants, stretching as he did so. What did it matter if they had sex or not? Things were the way they were, and who knew what tomorrow would bring? Everything would work out fine. They generally always do.

His paw trailed along the wall to maintain his balance, the smell of bacon growing stronger as he approached the kitchen. As he rounded the corner he saw Sophie making breakfast, eggs, toast and bacon, wearing a pair of his boxers and one of his shirts that implies â€sexin' up the person reading this.â€

â€G'mornin'...†Sophie smiled weakly at him, flipping the eggs, â€How did you sleep?â€

Jeffrey smirked, more to himself then at her, â€Wonderfully, next to you...â€

Sophie giggled, â€Mmm, I'm glad...†the toaster popped, four pieces of toast almost hitting the low hanging cabinets above.

â€...Is this going to be a regular occurrence?†Jeffrey asked timidly, somewhat afraid of the answer. She did not answer immediately, instead serving up their breakfasts with the efficiency of a short-order cook. She led him out to the living room, a plate of food in each hand, and sat down on the couch, handing him a plate as he sits down next to her. â€...I'm here making you breakfast. What do you think? I know it was rather presumptuous of me, but...†she trailed off, taking a short nibble of toast.

â€...It's fine. Everything's fine. I wouldn't want things to be any other way,†Jeffrey purred reassuringly, shuffling closer to her, leaning against Sophie, â€...Also, this is delicious,†he added, shovelling a large globule of egg into his mouth.

Sophie leaned back against Jeffrey, â€Teehee, good...Then you'll get to have my cooking every day,†she smiled, then sat bolt upright, â€Oh! I forgot! Here...†she reached into the waistband of the boxers and produced a cue card with a few short lines of text.

Handing it to Jeffrey, he gave it a quick once over, brows furrowed, â€...Huh. I get the feeling this was intentionally left for someone to find, to stir up some controversy. Still, it's an interesting find...†he told her, knowing immediately what this note was. â€You think? Now that you mention it...†she crunched a piece of almost-burnt bacon, as if in thought, â€...Wanna go CacheHunting later?†she asked, now excited.

Jeffrey smiled, chomping on his own bacon, â€...Yeah. Yes, of course I do. I know a nice café we can go to nearby. Just opened.â€

No one knows how tomorrow will end up. It was probably much better this way. Twenty-four hours ago, had someone told either Sophie or Jeffrey how they would wake up the next morning, they probably would not have believed it. Good things are most pleasurable when you do not see them coming, after all. This was a turn of events that would change everything for them. Jeffrey did not have to be psychic to know this, nor would he change it for the world.