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Specialties

By The Brain of Lazarus

Failure is spelled with your first name.

Tired, red eyes ran across the lines, over and over. Processing. Denying. Arguing.

"Mr. Karkov,

It is with a heavy heart that Tech Jet Solutions LLC will no longer require your services. We thank you for the years of hard work and dedication, but must part ways with you and several staff in pursuit of managerial efficiencies.

-Jacob S. LLC Lead Staff"

There was more, but it was all he needed to know. All he wanted to know.

Leonard gazed out window, the glass glazed with specks of rain. The heavy bus engine of Express Metro Transit roared under him, assaulting his long ears like a drone of scolding white noise. Street lights faintly bled through, washing him in colors of yellow and red. They were his only comforts, the dull pang of 'failure' rattling his thoughts.

Where even was he? The rabbit forgot. It was hours out from Hatchburg and the traffic of the city. Hours watching huge sprawling towers wane into urban pockets, then highway, then roads, then forest. Long, long stretches of forest. Now here.

He crumpled the letter in his hand, stashing it angrily in his pocket. Oh, right. He remembered. Reddetown.

The bus ambled through civilization, or at least what tried to be. Compared to Hatchburg, it was miniscule. Or perhaps it was the bitterness talking, Leonard figured. Roads were lined with plenty of tall buildings, washed with a spree of old brick and plenty of character. Diners, apartments, and whatever else seemed to make up most of it. A rainbow of signs woven with neon lights hung there and here.

A small part of him wished he could call it home. But not tonight.

Eventually, the bus shuddered, gasped, and halted, the doors opening. The loud crackle of rain could be heard.

"Hey bud, you sure you wanna' stop here?" the driver called, as Leonard started to make for the exit.

Portly cat, looked about in his forties, nurturing a beer gut fostered from sitting and bad alchol. Leonard shook his head.

"It's fine, got a motel, called in earlier."

The driver had to lean, bus engine growling over their words.

"Know any good bars around here?" said Leonard, raising his voice a bit. The cat gave him a concerned once over, but nodded.

"Yeh, I mean, well yeh. Try up on the street there, 'Ruckers.' Just careful though, it's a one-kind place, might not have what you like!"

The rabbit wasn't clear on that, shrugging. "Thanks," he offered flatly, paying the fee and exiting.

A light drizzle of rain pecked at his white fur and long coat, the bus hissing close and taking off, veering left. Leonard didn't have an umbrella, but didn't care, watching for cars. Few, if any, rolled by at the four-way, streets glistening with puddles and lights.

Where did he say?_thought the rabbit. _Up the street?

Striding over crosswalk, Leonard thirsted for relief. Clouds of frustration and betrayal hung over him, his insides splintered with a mix of apathy and fury. What now, he wondered. Is this it? So much time lost, so many hours gone, all thanks to the expertise of a "managed service provider."

Up the street on the corner, a flashing neon title emblazed on ornate stone distracted him long enough to forget. Ruckers. Atop it was a smiling reptile of some sort and a big mug. Suitable.

The rain picked up as he wandered through, just in time for the rabbit. Inside, the warmth of a lazy dive bar swam over him. A sort of distorted, experimental jazz played in the background while the lights were dim, casting a sort of sleepy haze on everything. But by the looks of it, place was mostly empty.

"Shit," Leonard breathed, noting the time. An LED clock hung on a wall, partnered with all sorts of pictures and oddities - primarily of the reptilian variety.

12:21 AM. He had been traveling for hours. Since morning.

He rubbed his head, feeling it catch up all at once. Hatchburg was so, so far away now. Yet he felt it haunt him, with the letter and the travel and now this exhaustion.

Footsteps caught his hears. It was paired with a charming, though stern, voice. "Hey, just so you know last call is in like forty, so-"

A young woman appeared from the back through door, hustling to bar, pausing as her violet eyes latched on to the slightly drenched rabbit. Leonard blinked. Oh, he got it now. "One-kind" of bar.

She was a gator. Or a crocodile? No, definitely a gator, had the shorter muzzle. Though, despite her species, had bright, wide eyes and a youthful, curvy figure. Fifth or sixth generation, Leonard figured, as most of the rougher and predatory aspects of her bloodline seemed groomed out. Once you started socializing, your species began to look a bit less hostile.

She was also staring. "Uh, hi. So."

Leonard shook himself. "Evening. Right, sorry it's late. Didn't realize the time. Still serving though I hope?"

The gator gal peered over the bar, visible from a few dangling lanterns. Lights flickered over her slightly pale green skin, one that breached between blue or green.

"It is. We are." She intoned carefully. Her wrists wore black leather bands, fingers with black nails (or claws, Leonard supposed), and a black shirt. On that was a scratchy typography reading 'RUCKERS: WE BITE.' Lots of black, lots of attitude. Lots of gators, too, by the look of the pictures on the wall and theme of the place.

"You uh, don't mind serving rabbits, I hope," he offered back. Not as a threat, but of realization.

She didn't respond immediately. Then, "You're not from around here?"

Her voice was stiff, but smooth. And girlish. She sounded like she was barely out of school.

Leonard shook his head. "Not I. Just blew in, only for a night. On my way somewhere else, uh. What was it, Shady Vale? But figured I'd get a stiff. Been a long trip."

A pause. "Assuming you serve not-lizards," he added.

The gator tapped finger on bar. "No, it's fine. Just unusual. I don't think I've ever seen anyone but 'gates and 'diles come in."

Leonard nodded tiredly. "Here's to new experiences."

He gazed about, hearing the rain pick up harder behind him, spattering windows relentlessly. He shuddered, taking off his long jacket and coming to sit at bar. The stools were a bit larger, seeing as they probably seated much bigger individuals, but it would do.

The gator gal gave him a curious once over. Leonard didn't mind, though he didn't quite understand. Revulsion? Suspicion? She sounded nice, if not surprised. Not unfriendly by any means. Oh no, years in Hatchburg had taught him how to pick up on revulsion in a voice without trouble. None of that here.

His albino-red eyes poured over a menu of drinks on the bar, cycling through the names. Bilgewater Beer. Earth and Fire Ale. Tall-Fence. The Hydra. None of them he recognized, and all of them sounding like something that could kill him if he drank it.

"You're not a cop, are you?"

Leonard's ear lifted. He looked up, utter confusion slapped over his features.

"No," he started. "No, I should say I'm not. Why would I be a cop?"

The gator buried her head in hands "Urrrrrrrgh," she grumbled. "That was bad."

"It was something," admitted Leonard.

The gator gal rubbed her eyes with fingers, shaking head. "Sorry. Sorry. Long day. Last one on shift. Never seen a rabbit. Weird stuff."

Leonard looked around. Indeed, no one else appeared to be working, or lounging. Must have taken off early.

"Should I be concerned?" he asked half-jokingly. It hardly mattered to him. Failure stung him like a wasp and he was too tired to care about anything other than taking the edge off.

A slow head shake. "No." Her violet eyes opened again, and she watched him once more. Studious. As if considering her next words.

Leonard could sense the anxiety leaping out of her. He ruffled through his pocket, pulling out his paper of shame, slapping it on the bar. He pointed.

"That's who I am," he announced roughly. "A wash up. A failure. A statistic removed from his position. Now I'm here, I'm tired, and just looking for a drink. No cops. Promise."

The gator looked at the paper, hesitantly picking it up to give it a read.

After a moment, she set it down. "Oh. Sorry."

Two words, but he could tell she meant it. He waved his hand.

"Eh. I'd be spooked too if a drifting weirdo showed up at my bar at near one in the morning."

She conceded with a nod. "Leonard?"

He gave her a tired smile. "That's me."

"Cheree," she returned. "Moor. Cheree Moor. . . I'm not sure why I told you my full name."

The rabbit gave a dry chuckle. "It's a nice one. Be proud of it. All I knew back in Hatchburg were 'Johnsons' and 'Lezinskis' and 'Fourth Quarter term shows the cloud sector declining by two percent and. . . eh, you get it."

Cheree's eyes widened a little. "Whoa. You're from all the way out there? Why did yo- Oh. Um. Right. Sorry."

Leonard could've sworn he saw the girl blush, though perhaps that was his bloodshot eye.

"Headed to Shady Vale, you said?" she shifted delicately. Leonard nodded.

"May I tell you over a drink?" he asked, feigning a plead. Realizing, Cheree straightened.

"Oh! Yes. Well. Our choices are a little different. I don't think you should drink most of it. Or can."

Red eyes rolled over a list of names. She wasn't kidding. Aside from the first batch of beers he looked over the, the rest sounded like they'd turn to glass in his stomach.

"I had no idea there was this much market for alligator beer," he conceded, flipping the list around. Not a sight nor hair of anything which looked digestible.

He flopped the list down, realizing. "I can't drink any of this," he said defeatedly. "And I don't think the 'Specialties' thing on your menu is worth two hundred bucks, either. That's crazy. No wonder this place is a ghost town!"

Cheree huffed. "That, or it's late."

The rabbit rubbed his head. No luck at all, it seemed. Outside, the rain kicked up worse, hammering windows with sheets of watery bullets. Leonard groaned.

"God. Can't even make it to the motel with that. Trapped in a bar with nothing to drink. That's a metaphor for hell."

"Sorry," the gator gal said. Endearing - the rabbit certainly appreciated it - but words were no salvation for him here.

"At least tell me," he started again, "the specialties thing is drugs. That's why you asked if I was a cop, right? It's drugs? Anything. Something to forget."

Cheree was taken aback. "Wha- no! No. No. We are a legitimate business. It's just a dry spell and we're trying to do some things to help the place pick up again. No one even notices it."

The rabbit rubbed his head, then looked at her skeptically. "Two hundred is not a great way to pick up business. I should know. I got laid off because of stuff like that."

The gator girl crossed her arms, looking at the windows soaked with rain. Her tail swung about with a newfound sense of uncertainty. But, it was late, he was a drifter going somewhere else, it probably didn't matter.

"I'm twenty, all right. That's it. No one minds because I help out enough that it's not worth it to get caught over. People understand. Just trying to work. Just trying to help."

Leonard looked at her curiously, then shrugged. "Feh. So you thought I was investigating some license bullshit huh? No such luck, Cheree."

He poked the menu of alcohol. "And the specialties thing?"

This time, he visibly saw the gator gal blush through her cool, soft scales. Her violet eyes nervously looked about and cheeks puffed, nibbling at lower lip. Arms still crossed, fingers tapped, grumbling anxiously.

"Urrrrrgh," she answered. The rabbit looked flabbergasted.

"Your specialties are 'urrgh'? Jeeze, what's the big deal. How about I pay you the two hundred and you just tell me, eh? Can't be worse than getting laid off and no alcohol."

Cheree looked down, then up. "Please don't tell anyone. It was my idea, anyway."

Leonard raised his arms in exaggerated fashion. "Can't tell what I don't know! Look, Cheree, it's fine. Whatever, I get it. Life is tough. Life isn't fair. Sometimes you have to try things to get ahead. If it's really drugs, I mean. Just. Don't get anyone hurt."

"It isn't drugs," the gator responded flatly. "It's me."

"It's embarrassing. It's stupid," she continued. "I think everyone knew what I was going for but didn't take me up on it out of 'respect.' So stupid."

Leonard blinked. "You're. . . the drugs?"

Violet eyes came to him with fire. "It's not drugs!" she shrieked. "I just thought. I don't know. I could do some extra stuff for a customer. All they had to do was pay, and ask. I don't know. Like serving them naked."

The rabbit's voice caught. Cheree wasn't looking at him, but her expression said it all. She was chewing on lip nervously, rubbing her crossed arms, probably regretting what she just said.

Oh. Twenty. "Service." Alcohol.

"This was your idea?" he asked. Not to admonish, but to make sure. He looked at her for anything like bruises. Red marks. Some physical harm. He couldn't see anything.

"My idea," she responded lowly.

A long, awkward pause rolled between the two, the only ambiance the distorted jazz and rumble of rain smashing at the windows. Then, Leonard fidgeted around in his pockets. He looked at the letter, reminded himself of his failure, of where he was going. Of the rain, the lack of alcohol, the bitterness.

Well, why not.

He shuffled out his wallet, flipping through. Yep, two hundred. Almost all he had on him. He planned to use it for groceries or something else when he made it to Shady Vale but at this point, his exhaustion and intrigue got the better of him.

"There." His hands slapped down a couple of bills, on top of the Tech Jet Solutions letter. "Two hundred."

"Sounds fun," he mused tiredly. "And different. And I'll tell you something, I could go for a whole lot of different and fun right about now."

Cheree's gaze shot over to the money, then up to Leonard, a bit stunned. "You're. . . wait. You're serious?"

The rabbit gave a half nod. "If you are. If you want to."

She blinked. She watched the bills hesitantly, and then the suited rabbit. Her heart started to pound, gator tail waving back and forth. She never thought anyone would ever take her up on the offer. Much less a rabbit.

Her hand crept over the bills. Then stopped. "Wait," she said. "I can do this better."

The rabbit wasn't entirely clear, but watched as the gator shifted. She leaned a bit over the bar, digits rummaging with jeans, popping them loose, sliding the fabric down her soft scaled hips. Her thighs pushed out with generous curvature, pale blue-green flesh shimmering in the light. She wiggled, and it was clear she was sporting a generous backside, a plump full rump wiggling behind the counter.

Leonard watched, silently thrilled, admiring all the grace for what was essentially a cold-blooded predator. She nibbled her lip, looking back to her thighs as she tossed off the pants, only a thin strip of black panties remaining.

Then, she shifted once more, lifted herself atop the bar. She turned, so that her fat, wide rump squished into the table, the hefty haunches puckering out like a scaly peach. Leonard eyed them, quite surprised at just how generous her posterior was.

"Can't believe I'm getting to try this," she intoned lowly, shifting her thighs so that rump would bobble ever so subtly against the bar.

"Ahm," Leonard said. "So um. You uh, want to be paid?"

"I do." She tapped her hip, looking back towards the rabbit, scales blushing. "This is fun so far, right? You think it's attractive?"

Leonard saw her fingers tap. He got the idea. He took the bills and slipped them between Cheree's panty line, or struggled too, fabric and scale making for a tight fight. Still, his fingers briefly traced over her surprisingly soft rear, shivering internally.

"I think. Well, we haven't done anything yet. Have we?" he answered cloudily. "Erm. Oh, well yes though, quite attractive."

His mind was starting to wander. Frustration, the haziness of exhaustion, and large gator butt were fumbling through him, mangling thoughts.

Cheree blushed again, her cheeks practically matching her eyes. Her long tail swept away, out of view, allowing the split of her buttocks to be more visible, subtle indicate of her cleft visible behind curtain of panties. Leonard's nose wriggle, picking up on scent of female, taking a long drink of the view given to him.

"Okay. Okay. Um. How about. . ." she trailed off, but started to adjust herself once more.

This time, she propped up on all fours, balancing carefully on the bar. Considering it wasn't made for, well, whatever it was she had in mind, the gator had to steady herself. The rabbit was in slight disbelief, as now pale rear cheeks wiggled a bit closer, hefty rear presented a few inches from his face.

On her ankles, Leonard could see matching black leather braces, accentuating the whole 'attitude' look Cheree was on about. It only served to blur the lines between arousal, exhaustion, and loss of frustration. Company who? Laid off when? The rabbit began to forget.

"Got it," she said again. Then her hips wiggled. Then it was Leonard's turn to blush.

The white furred male felt his face go hot as Cheree tossed her hips from side to side, sashaying with slow, dancing bounces. She swung her hips slowly, and each jubilant motion caused her posterior to play with a lofty wave of jiggles, jubilant fleshy shakes echoing off the supple curves of her blue-green scales. Her head was still turned, watching him curiously, lowering her chest just so as to prop her rear higher into the air.

Her thick tail waved above her, pushing her rump closer to perhaps entice the male, reptilian cleft clearly visible now through the thin guarding fabric of her undergarments.

Leonard felt himself stiffen, his suit pants not at all spacious enough for this lewd lizard. He gulped. Well, certainly beat bad alcohol. His fingers curled, the rain hitting the windows hard, as if to mirror his excited heartbeat.

"You can um. You can touch me if you want," offered the gator, still throwing her hips here and there.

"Isn't that uncomfortable? And dangerous?" the sensible part of Leonard asked, red eyes locked onto plump rump.

"It's fine," the gator said, blinking. Was it? She didn't know. But she was starting to not care.

Leonard rubbed his chin. His nose wrinkled. Then, with a shrug, his palms leapt out to greedily grip into the soft, welcoming scales of Cheree's pleasant backside, gently rolling over the sensual, supple haunches. He tossed her full, fat ass gingerly, taking a moment to split them apart, only just so.

"Hnm!" she exclaimed, perhaps not certain what to expect. But based on the rabbit's touches, it seemed he was enjoying himself.

"Sorry about the bills," he muttered. Leonard felt a bit more adventurous, this time his digits coming to the edges of Cheree's panties. He promptly yanked them down, the bills once held by the line of fabric fluttering back to table, the gator gal exclaiming with a surprised gasp.

The rabbit wanted to gorge his eyes on the lovely sight of young gator puss, but his prompt action caused Cheree to suddenly stumble.

"Whoa!"

She tilted, off balance, falling backward. Alarmed, realizing his mistake, the rabbit quickly grabbed her - or tried to - weight of alligator hitting him as he went back first off the stool, into the floor. Cheree toppled on him with a loud 'oof' and the sound of tearing fabric was heard, the gator's panties yanked off.

"Ahhhshitwoopsohfuck!" sputtered Leonard. He groaned as hard wood banged him on back, a sting of pain echoing through him.

"Agh! Ow! Hey, sorry! Agh. Are you okay? Sorry!" Cheree quickly rolled off him, her face flushed as she was bare from the hips down. Still, she knelt over him, concerned.

Leonard rubbed his head. "Gmmf. Horf. Yes. Yes, I'm fine, nothing broken, heh. Kind of hard to be 'not fine' when, well. You know, a half-naked gator girl is doing things."

The rabbit noticed his loins growing yet more tense, suit pants doing little to leave for comfort. Cheree glanced to the side, half smiling, though pulling down her shirt to cover her nethers, as if embarrassed.

"Urgh. Yeah. Uh sorry, again. Kind of didn't expect you to 'see me,' is all," she acknowledged.

The rabbit raised himself up, laughing. "I dunno' gal, for two hundred I think I deserve a good bit of seeing. Unless you're not comfortable?"

Realizing, violet eyes looked back to the albino rabbit. "Oh! Agh. No, you're right. Guess I liked the thought more than the deed. We can. . . keep going."

Leonard looked behind him. "Ya' know for not wanting to be seen, your bar door is still unlocked, with a whole lot of rain. Someone might've caught us."

Her eyes went wide. "Oh. Oh shit! SHIT!" she scrambled up, prancing over to the bar door, peeking out the window.

Rushing back behind bar, she returned with a set of keys to promptly lock up, taking another measure to close off the 'open' sign. All the while, Leonard couldn't help but peek at her jostling rear as she moved about, fat full cheeks bouncing together with each movement.

"Hope that doesn't get you in trouble," he said, still sitting. Cheree bolted the door, backside still to him, making sure no one else was coming.

"No more trouble than I'm probably already in," she responded flatly. "Assuming."

She turned around, thick tail waving about once again. The rabbit tilted his head.

"Assuming?" he asked.

"If you don't say anything about this. I'm realistic."

"Oh," Leonard chuckled. "Har. Scouts honor. It's between us."

He gestured for her to return. "I hope that's not all two hundred gets me, though. I did catch you, after all."

The gator gal crossed her arms. But conceded. She had no intention of denying him any more "fun," and she was kind of enjoying herself too. Giving a half, though still anxious smile, she sauntered over to the seated rabbit, hips tossing with each smooth step.

"So, what-"

As she stood over him, the rabbit quickly went to knees and rung his arms over the generous, shapely hips of the blue-green gator. Yes, this was as good as any alcohol. He could hardly remember his problems now. Frustration, tiredness, apathy, they all left him.

His wiggly rabbit nose nuzzled thigh, licking the soft scales, tasting the flavor of unique gator. Slick, subtle, like fresh rainwater. In the meantime, his hands returned to their exploring, where head rested on hips and palms ferociously groped the plump derriere.

"Gnh! Um. Agh! Okay. This is working," Cheree muttered. "Isn't it?"

The red-eyed rabbit took a few moments to kiss at hips, adoring the shape of youthful girl, looking up.

"I'd say so. Working better than my old work."

Cheree bit her lower lip, then started to pull up her black top. However, the rabbit stopped her.

"No need," he chimed. "I'm sure your top half looks great but eh, for now. Bottom will do. Maybe next time."

The gator gal paused, looking down. "Next time? Oh. Okay. Yeah. Why not." Her tone was a mix of hope and intrigue, though what 'next time' meant was left to clarify for another time.

"Oof, my knees are getting sore. Mind uh, leaning over your fancy bar there?"

Leonard was content to continue tossing and groping the generous backside of the formly female, but his knees protested loudly. Even for a rabbit, hard wood started to hurt. Understanding, she nodded.

Thick tail swayed and violet eyes glanced at bar. Then, slowly walked to it, tossing her thick thighs and full rear, having an idea what the rabbit enjoyed. Her buxom buttocks gave a few more enticing jiggles, before her form leaned against the flat of the bar, resting bosom and arms on it. Covered breasts flattened against the furnishing while rump splayed out once more, this time ripe and exposed.

"This. Like this, right?"

Leonard checked the clock. Already 1AM. The haze of his arousal and fatigue made for a wicked cocktail, eyeing the bouncing bottom like it were a dream. But he couldn't last on lust forever, and his pants felt uncomfortably tight.

He nodded, seeing Cheree turning to look at him, her cute cheeks still flushed with what he hoped was equal arousal.

"Quite like that," said he, stumbling to her. Okay knees, he thought, hang in there a sec longer.

With a loud smack, his hands clamped over fat buttocks once again, the resounding noise echoing over the distorted background jazz. Rain trembled outside, as if from his action, Cheree letting off a surprised yelp as he did. Fingers pulled and pushed, until splitting apart her hefty ass cheeks, exposing the delights they teased at.

Puckered hole and supple, soft cleft greeted the red-eyed rabbits sight, as he knelt briefly, pouring his gaze over them. The gator watched him - or best she could at least - unclear.

"Uh. What are you uh. Gonna do?"

Leonard smirked, but didn't answer. He was far too gone from exhaustion and infatuation to care now. At once, his mouth drove forward, and lips suckled over the exposed puss. Fingers dug through to spread apart puffy lips as his tongue rolled over sensitive nub and tunnel entry.

"Ah! NGH!" Cheree let off a surprised series of shrieks, covering her mouth as she watched with disbelief, feeling diving rabbit rug explore her nethers.

"Gmmmmf," Leonard intoned, mouth full of gator muff, even though there was none to speak of. His nose wiggled on her rectal ring, and he lapped feverishly at whatever he could. In return, Cheree felt herself burst with warm pangs of pleasure and arousal, wiggling her hips to return, perhaps to also entice.

Eventually, she could not resist the oral assault, grinding her thighs against the explorative maw, tossing fat full ass in slow rises and falls. Leonard responded by letting some of his digits wriggle inside her warmth, wriggling inside the vaginal tunnel, claiming uncharted territory.

"Ugh! Gggggggggh!" groaned the gator, her head falling on bar as her thighs and rump helplessly bounced against rabbit face, cheeks clapping against face to form a seductive chorus of smacking flesh.

Leonard smiled, then pulled his head away, much to the gator's dismay, her thick tail raised over shoulder in silent gesture of want. The albino rabbit looked over this new pussy prize, spread fat cheeks, taking a deep look at the juicy holes presented before him. His head rattled with ideas, but time and tiredness were getting the better of him.

So, he stood. Quickly, he unbuckled his suit pants and drawers, then briefs, getting the confining attire off his legs. His rigid, full cock sprang free with twitching joy, throbbing with hunger, delighted at the prospect of seething, young pussy.

Wide eyed, Cheree glanced at the rabbit's rod, then to him, then back to the hardened mast. She bit her lower lip, uncertainty roaming over her.

"Should. Is. Are you sure? Uh."

Strings of sanity still held Leonard together. "Gm, we can stop here, eheh, but we're pretty far into it, Cheree."

There was a pause. Then, the gator shook her head. "No. No! Agh yes. Okay. Okay this is good, I'm ready. Sorry, it's been a while. Hope I meet um, expectations."

The rabbit was relieved to hear it. Young and anxious, that was okay, he'd been there too. Though granted he wasn't that much older, but still. Strangers stripping and fucking at first meeting? Definitely caution to the wind. Parts of him even warned against potential disease or similar problems, but mentally he shrugged. Maybe in Hatchburg he'd have cared, but not anymore.

Hands went to hips. Sucking in a breath, all at once, the rabbit plunged into damp, soft puss. A loud cry rang from Cheree, her head bucking up, Leonard groaning as he hilted himself entirely inside the waiting gator gate.

"Ohffffffuck!" he hissed, looking down to see the sight of his engorged mast shoved completely in tight, moist lips. Cheree's suckling nethers were wrapped about him completely, sodden folds greedily locking him tight, while fat full ass was pressed into abdomen.

"Mmmfmmrr. . ." Cheree mumbled, biting her finger as hips danced and bobbled helplessly. Each little twitch and shift caused an aroused suction of warm pressure to emanate through the male, and he was happy to oblige with more.

Gods, he thought. "Gods," he said, clenching his teeth. No, he could barely hold out against all this. Cheree's rump easily smacked into his hips and her young plump pussy was too tight for words. She was special. Who needed a drink, anyway?

He buckled. Then bucked. His thighs retracted, then dove into the delicious, sopping cleft of gator nethers. Each stroke of his loins was met with a sharp, lustful chorus, Cheree whining in pleasure as he began to drive his hips into her. Claiming, filling, punishing.

Palms gripped soft scaled thighs and he slammed himself into the awaiting channel. Loud, brutal smacks and claps filled the bar, the unified cries of rabbit and gator wailing over the jazz background. Cheree panted with hot, steamy breaths, her eyes clamped shut, hands gripping the bar as she felt the rabbit helplessly hammer her silky tunnel. Her own cleft was hot and sodden with arousal, sloppy drips of saliva and pre dripping from their coupling, forming a tiny pool of sex beneath.

"Guh! AUH! AH! AHNNN!"

Cheree didn't have the words. Her juicy folds had spent too long away from a proper cock, and the warm, mature mast striking her was enough to tingle her rich honey pot in just the right ways.

Shit, shit, is he wearing a condom? Shit, he's not. Shit, it doesn't matter! She thought, her mind a senseless drizzle of heat and want. Like raindrops on a window, her thoughts dripped into primal desire. Consequences, if any, for later.

"OhfuckingfuckingfuckIcan't!"

Leonard was on his last leg. This was all too much. Fat bouncing ass, rain, exhaustion, pretty gator girl. He had to give. The day was just too long. So he did.

At once, his body tensed, and he leaned over the younger Cheree. Arms left cushion of rump and snuck under waist, gripping tummy, as he gave a long, steady moan, thighs contract, testes pulsing as ropes of seed flooded into wanting, waiting channel.

"NFF!"

Cheree gasped, mouth going wide, feeling an assault of hot white ropes soak her tunnel, flooding sopping, fleshy gates with rabbit-y essence. Desperately, she bounced her thick, full rump upon rabbit cock, pushing herself to orgasm.

"Cumcumcumcum!" she murmured to herself, eager to get there too.

It wasn't long, however, and the gator gal reached physical peak, her inner walls trembling as honey pot pursed with womanly essence, spilling onto the already drenched rabbit cock and flooding out from soaking, supple gator lips.

The couple twitched and held together a moment, Leonard going limp on the back of younger female, his head crested with sweat and longs aching with warm afterglow. Cheree panted, though in smaller breaths, amusingly having squished his crumpled job letter under covered breast, eyelids veiling her fiery violet eyes.

Clenching his teeth, the rabbit tediously pulled himself free of sloppy, soaked gator cunt, his mast softening but dripping with a long sticky trail of sex. Red eyes roved over cleft, eagerly delighting at his work, almost tripping over suit pants that bound his ankles as he stepped back.

"Hggggh. Hoof. Hoff. Well," he started to say, wiping his brow.

Cheree didn't move for a moment. Then, steadily, slowly rose, pushing herself on bar with hands, puss dribbling with their previous coupling.

"Good. Oh. Wow yeah, very good. It's been a while. Long while. I almost forgot how all that felt."

Leonard nodded, leaning to pull up his briefs and pants, though wasn't too eager to hide his mess under lock of briefs.

"Looks like we both did," he admitted.

Cheree turned around, leaning onto bar, crossing arms. She saw her ripped panties, rolled eyes, scoffing.

"Worth it?" she finally asked. "My idea, I mean. I wasn't sure."

The male chuckled. "I think I'd rather have spent the two hundred on dates and getting to know you. But yeah, it was worth it. Beats a drink any day."

The rain continued to pang against window, though slowed down. Leonard checked for his long coat, which had sat crumpled against a bar stool.

Perhaps noticing this, Cheree cut in. "You know, you never did tell me what you were doing here over a drink. And since I'm the drink, technically. . ."

With a bit of discomfort, the rabbit yanked up his pants, though looked at the girl curiously. He yawned.

"Ah damn, you're right. I'm exhausted. But. Ah, damn. Okay look. Maybe I can tell you over, I dunno. Breakfast, before I head down to Shady Vale?"

The gator smiled. "I'd like that."

Relieved, the rabbit rubbed his head. Exhaustion returned, so too the worries of where he was going. Then, a thought struck him.

"Hang on, they don't have breakfast 'specialties' around here too do they?"