The Safeword is 'Papa' (ch.4)
#4 of The Safeword is 'Papa'
Allow me to set the scene for you.
It's late at night. Pouring down rain. The inside of my van reeks of humidity, dirty laundry and decades of cannabis abuse. There's a soggy orange fox sitting on my mattress in just his khaki shorts, toweling himself dry with what may or may not have been my jizz towel, working it delicately over the scruff of his neck as he maintained eye contact with me.
"S'really coming down out there."
"Uh-huh."
I'm suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to reach out and touch him. Maybe on his arm. Or his chest. I don't, obviously.
"So... what we gonna watch?" Without asking for permission, Nick flopped himself down on my mattress, tucking my lumpy old pillow behind him. The way he was situated - tap dead center in front of the TV - led me to believe that if we were gonna do any tag team movie-watching, I would need to get really close. To further drive this home, Nick placed his paw gently on the small of my back and said, "C'mere. I'm cold as fuck."
It was as if my body had a mind of its own, because before I knew it, I had scooted down against him, laying my head in the shallow of his shoulder. His arm slowly coiled around me.
Ten minutes into Hard Boiled, everything was fairly normal. Nick's fingers gently stroked along my side from the scruff of my neck to the base of my tail and back again. Someone (I forget who) produced a blunt and we passed it back and forth. Laying with him like this was... strange. Resting against his naked chest, my fingers seemed to disappear in his fur. My vision blurred pleasantly and I soon found myself purring.
"You are too cute for words," he said after a long tug of the half-smoked roach. "You know that?"
I was too high and warm to protest, and didn't even bat an eye when his fingers eased my chin up. He kissed me softly. I kissed back. When we parted, he pressed the tapered end of the blunt to my lips for me to take a drag.
"Y'know... we could do a whole lot more of this from now on. If you wanted to."
"I ain't gay," I mumbled, eyes half-lidded as I cuddled back down, blowing wisps of smoke against his chest.
"Mm-hmm."
At some point during the night we started drinking. A short while after that, I was straddling his chest with my tongue in his mouth, trying to kiss him to death.
"Mmmmph," he smirked, fingers knitted together over his belly as he allowed me to french him. Our tongues danced together as my palms dug into the tufts of fur along his cheeks, pulling him up against me.
We paused just long enough for him to peel off my shirt. When I dove on his mouth once more, it was with the knowledge that, in all likelihood, I was about to have sex with another guy for the first time in my life. And you know what? After half a freezer bag of OG Kush and three imported German beers, I was pretty okay with that.
He gripped me by the waist, lifting up. Suddenly I was pinned beneath him, moaning as his fingers slid over my chest, my naked belly.
"N-nick..."
He nibbled the scruff of my neck, causing me to wince and moan. "Tell me what you want."
"...I..."
His hand slid between my thighs, working me diligently through the coarse fabric of my khakis. "Tell me what you want me to do to you."
I couldn't see straight. The smell of weed, booze and arousal was overwhelming. My head swam as I fought to catch my breath.
"I want..." I gulped for air, eyes screwed shut. "I want... you... to..."
His hand disappeared from my lap. He leaned in, lips brushing against my ear. I could practically hear him smirk as he whispered, "Ooh, I'm afraid that's all the time we have for today."
My eyes shot open. He was sitting cross-legged on the mattress next to me, starting to tug on his Hawaiian tee. "What?!"
"Yeah dude," Nick smirked down at the buttons on his shirt as he fastened them. "I only promised to hang out. Remember? 'Bros being bros'? Correct me if I'm wrong, but this is most definitely _not_bro-like activity." He finished the last button and smiled at me. "Besides, you're pretty drunk. Wouldn't want you to do anything you'd regret, now, would I?"
I couldn't decide if I felt more angry, relieved, horny or high. I wanted to claw his face off. I also wanted him inside me.
"But..." he continued, checking his reflection in a little side mirror I kept on the nightstand, smoothing down his ruffled fur. "I suppose I could eventually be persuaded to ravage your tiny little bod. For another measly ten percent of the week's take, that is."
I blinked, trying to make his words make sense in my cannabis-addled brain.
" YOU MANKY MOTHER_FUCKER!!!"_ I screamed at the top of my lungs.
But by that point Nick had his hand on the latch to the back door and was carefully easing himself onto the sidewalk. "Just think it over and get back to me. See ya this Friday, sweet cheeks."
I managed to lob three empty beer bottles at him before the door closed, leaving me teetering, seething and painfully erect in the darkened recesses of my foul-smelling van.