FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

This chapter is dedicated to redtwilightwolf, who was kind enough to befriend a shy fur, and who has been extraordinarily generous with her time and artistic talent. Thank you Red! If you'd like to see her interpretation of Cynthia, ask her. I'm sure she'd be happy to show you.

In addition to Red, there are two others I must thank for their help. Roke Tanuki, without whom this would probably have ended up a splintered hulk on the reef of my writer's block, unseen by anyone, and Obsidian_Arcticglow, whose quiet support and inspiration kept me going, and still do. Thank you both. In addition, I'd like to thank everyone who was nice enough to comment, fave, rate, or even just read chapter one. It really meant - and continues to mean - a lot to me.

This chapter begins right where Chapter One leaves off. If you haven't read Chapter One, you may want to start there. Otherwise it may be a bit confusing.

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They picked up John's prescriptions - eye drops and painkillers - and had them filled at the hospital's pharmacy, then returned to John's car, Cynthia guiding him the entire time. When they were buckled in, she started the motor, then turned to John and said, "If I'm going to spend the night I'll need to pick up a few things from my apartment first."

"Sure," he replied.

They drove across town to Cynthia's apartment, and when they arrived she said a bit hesitantly, "This will only take a few minutes. Will you be all right waiting in the car or would you like to come in with me?"

"I'll be fine. Just crack a window so I can bark at passersby"

"All right Mr. smarty-pants, no doggy biscuit for you when I get back," she said as she got out of the car, then she laughed and shook her head when he whimpered pitifully.

She made her way quickly to the building and up the elevator to the second floor to her apartment, where she hurried to her room and started throwing clothes and toiletries into a small overnight case. Her roommate, a blond human girl named Stacy came in and asked, "Where have you been, Cynthia? I thought you were done work at three, and why are you packing?"

Stacy was her best friend, but Cynthia still felt hesitant about telling her the whole story of what had happened to her today so, as she continued packing she replied briefly, "I'm in kind of a hurry right now, but I'll tell you everything later, I promise. Right now I have to go spend the night with... um... a sick friend." It wasn't EXACTLY a lie. She brushed past Stacy on the way to the bathroom to pick up a few final items, remembering at the last minute to grab a brown bottle and an aerosol can from under the sink. She returned to her bedroom, threw her last few things in the case, snapped the lid shut, and hurried to the apartment door, grabbing her spare jacket on the way out.

As she was leaving, Stacy, who had been following her, somewhat bewildered asked, "What should I say if Zach calls?"

Over her shoulder, Cynthia said offhandedly, "Don't worry, he won't," and shut the door behind her.

When she got back to the car she looked up to see that Stacy was watching her from their balcony. She wasn't sure if her roommate would recognize John's car from the times he had given her a ride home from work or if she could see John in the passenger seat from her vantage point, but either way Cynthia would have a lot of explaining to do when she came home. She sighed to herself, but smiled and waved to her friend before getting in the car and tossing her bag in the back seat. "I'm back. Were you all right while I was gone?"

"I missed you terribly, but other than that I was fine," he replied.

She leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek, then remembered Stacy and glanced up to find that, yes, she was still watching them. She sighed again. A lot of explaining to do.

John heard her sighing and asked, "What's the matter?"

She shook her head and said, "It's nothing important, I was just thinking about something."

As they were driving back to John's house she noticed that he seemed to be fidgeting in his seat. It was hard to tell with the bandages covering his eyes, but he seemed to be uncomfortable about something. "Is something bothering you? Is it your eyes?" she asked, concerned.

"Oh no, I was just thinking," he said, a bit nervously it seemed to Cynthia. "When we get back to my place I thought we could make up one of the spare rooms for you to sleep in tonight."

She was confused. "Aren't I going to sleep with you, in your room?" she asked.

If anything, John looked even more pained. "I just don't want you to think that I'm taking it for granted that we'll be sleeping together. Things happened pretty fast today and I wasn't sure if you'd even want to... you know...

"Oh, John," she giggled. "You're so cute when you're being shy. Of course I want to sleep with you. This afternoon you gave me my first taste of what it really feels like to be a woman. I'm not going to let you get away before I get the full experience."

"Just as long as we both know where we stand, "he said. "If you're feeling at all uncomfortable about this..."

"It sounds like you're the one who's uncomfortable," she interrupted. "Don't worry, you'll be the first to know if I get cold feet: I'll hold them against you under the covers to warm them up again."

He laughed. "All right, you win. Forget I brought it up. I was just worried about you, that's all."

"Such a gentleman," she said, "Anyway, we're here." She pulled into the driveway and parked.

She grabbed her bag and John's prescriptions out of the back seat and got out, going around to the passenger side to help John. When they got to the house Cynthia said, "I'm afraid I left your front door wide open. I hope everything's all right."

"We both had a lot on our minds when we left," he said wryly. "I'm sure everything's fine. It's a nice neighborhood and the storm door should have kept most of the heat in."

They entered, and Cynthia was immediately aware of the powerful scent of her musk still pervading the air inside the house. "I guess I did quite a number in here," she said, sniffing the air.

John inhaled through his nose, but replied, "I guess my sense of smell is still a bit overwhelmed. I think I still have quite a bit of your scent on my face, and I can barely smell that."

"Yes, let's take care of that right now," she said. "Which way to the bathroom?"

"First door on the right down the hall to the right."

Taking her overnight case along, she led him there and put the toilet lid down so he could sit down, then set her bag down on the sink and opened it. She removed the brown bottle and said, "I have just the thing to get the smell out of your hair and face. If you show up for work smelling like this people are really going to talk, and skunk musk can be nearly impossible to get rid of if you don't know what you're doing."

"What is it? Tomato juice?" he asked.

"That's just a myth, John. No, it's just baking soda, hydrogen peroxide, and a little dishwashing liquid - one of the best odor eliminators there is. I use it on my... panties..." she felt her face growing hot "before I put them in the wash. There are commercial products too, but this works as well as any of them, and it's a lot cheaper. Okay, I'm going to have to unwrap your bandages for this, but I'll turn off the light first. There should be enough light from the window and the hallway for me to see what I'm doing. Just keep your eyes closed and relax." She leaned over him, carefully unwound his bandages and looked at his face. Even in the gloom, she could tell that his eyelids were still red and puffy. She leaned in and kissed him on the forehead. "Poor baby," she murmured.

John smiled. "I'm feeling better already," he said.

Cynthia took a clean washcloth from the towel bar and soaked it in warm water from the sink, then applied a liberal amount of the mixture from the bottle to it. She then began gently to wash his forehead and cheeks, being very careful around his eyes. When she was satisfied that his face was clean she began to rub his hair with the washcloth, stroking gently but firmly. After this she paused, then began to sniff around his head and neck, looking for areas that still needed attention.

"I don't think I've ever been sniffed by a woman before," John said. "It's actually kind of arousing."

"Steady John," she said. "It's just the easiest way for me to tell where else I need to wash. My nose is much more sensitive than a human's."

"What's that like?" he asked. "I really can't imagine how it would be feel to be exposed to all the strange, powerful, and unpleasant smells you must encounter every day."

She paused to consider, then replied, "It's hard to explain. It's kind of like trying to describe colors to a blind person. The best way I can explain is to say that not only is my sense of smell more acute than yours, but also my PERCEPTION of smells is very different. There are still odors I find pleasant and ones I find unpleasant, but it's easier for me to simply catalog the information they convey than it seems to be for most humans. Taking a walk in the park is a bit like reading a newspaper of aromas for me."

"That's actually very poetic," he said.

"Oh stop." she said, embarrassed. "Now let me have your shirt. I want to treat the collar, and then I think we're done here."

He helped her remove his navy blue work shirt, revealing his gray t-shirt underneath. She treated the collar and front, and after giving it a final smell-test, pronounced it good enough and dropped it into the laundry chute on the wall. "Now if I read your prescriptions right, it's just about time for your eye drops, but I think it will be easier for me to do that in the living room, so I won't put your bandages on again just yet. Just keep your eyes closed for now," she said.

"Yes nurse," John said, grimacing.

"You're not going to be difficult about this, are you?"

"Sorry. I'm just not used to being waited on. I'm your host. I feel like I should be waiting on you."

"You realize how ridiculous that sounds, with you sitting there blind."

"Just because it's ridiculous doesn't make my feelings any less real," John said with as much dignity as he could muster.

"Yes John. Now you come with nurse Cynthia and she'll make it all better," she replied in her most patronizing tone of voice.

"I can see that it's pointless to argue about this," he said, laughing as he allowed himself to be hauled to his feet.

"Pointless and counterproductive, and that won't do either of us any good." Taking him by the hand, she gathered up her case and his bandages and went into the living room, where she had him lie down on the sofa, then retrieved his eye drops from the shelf in the entryway, where she had set them down when they came in. She put them down on the coffee table next to her overnight bag, and then got out the aerosol can she brought from her apartment and began spraying it around the room saying, "This is a deodorizer and odor eliminator. It should take care of most of the smell left in here. It's the best commercial product I've found."

"Why do you even need it?" John asked. "I've never known you to spray before today of course, but you've always smelled wonderful to me."

"Well," she replied, "While it's true that for the most part I can ignore my scent gland, my musk does eventually build up to the point where it can become a little uncomfortable. Then I need to relieve the pressure a bit, usually in the bathroom. This spray just makes it more comfortable for the next person to use it."

"You think of everything."

"I have to in my position. Now," she said, putting the can back in her case and picking up the eye drops. "Let's get your medicine taken care of, and then we can talk." She went over to the sofa and straddled his hips, leaning over so that she could look directly into his face. She unscrewed the cap and filled the dropper, setting the bottle back on the coffee table.

"Did I say being sniffed was arousing? THIS is arousing," John said as he placed his hands on her thighs and began gently stroking them.

"Yes, I can tell," she replied, shifting her hips slightly against the increasing bulge in his pants. "But business before pleasure. Will it be too bright in here for you John? I need to be able to see what I'm doing, but I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"It's fine."

"All right then, we'll take it slow and easy. Just relax and tell me if I'm hurting you." She gently lifted his left eyelid with her thumb and peered at it. She had never seen an eye so bloodshot. She was momentarily taken aback. "Oh my God John, That looks so painful. Do you need your painkillers?" She recovered quickly and applied several drops directly to his pupil, then let his eye close again.

"No, I'm fine. My eyes are still pretty numb from the drops they gave me at the hospital, and besides, those things always put me right to sleep, and I want to enjoy our time together."

"All right John, just tell me if they bother you too much." She then repeated the process with his right eye, which was, if anything even worse than his left. "How did I manage to hit you so squarely in the eyes, John?"

"Well, the angle must have been just right for one thing, and for another, it probably helped that I was staring upwards, completely mesmerized by the way your tail was waving all around as you were enjoying yourself. It was absolutely adorable, let me tell you."

She thought back, trying to remember what her tail had been doing, but all she could recall was the incredible sensations she had felt. "It wasn't really waving around... was it?"

"I swear to you it did, like a flag in a gusty wind. Every so often it would come back and smack me on top of the head," he said grinning. "Not that I minded, you understand. It really is incredibly soft."

She brought her tail around her body and tickled him on the tip of his nose. "Like that?" she asked.

John laughed, and said, "Yes, exactly like that," as he quickly moved his hands up from her thighs to tickle her sides under her ribcage.

She squealed; then said, "Okay, that's enough. I still have to re-bandage you so your eyes can heal."

He reluctantly removed his hands from her sides and, grinning, said, "You started it."

"And now I'm finishing it," she said as she climbed off him. "Now sit up straight so I can do this right." He dutifully complied, and she carefully wrapped his eyes back up. "Is that too tight, John?"

"It's perfect. You should be a doctor; you're really good at this, and you've got a terrific bedside manner."

"I plan to show you a lot more of my bedside manner later, but for now I want to ask you something," she said as she sat down next to him.

"Shoot."

"It's about what you said back at the hospital, about how I didn't owe you anything, and that I had given you more than you could repay. You were so serious when you said it, I didn't understand what you meant."

"Oh, that," John said, putting his arm around her. "Well, aside from the fact that it was a dream come true for me that you were with me at all, it goes back to my sexual philosophy."

"You have a philosophy... about sex...?" She asked dubiously.

"Doesn't everyone?" He paused, and then continued, "Okay, maybe I tend to over-think things sometimes, but I'm rather proud of this. It works, at least for me."

"Tell me about it. I'm dying to hear this."

"Okay class, welcome to Applied Sexual Philosophy 101. Please take notes because there will be a quiz later."

She leaned in close and murmured into his ear, "Teach me professor."

Please don't distract me or we'll never get through the first lesson."

At this, she moved one position over on the sofa so that his arm was no longer around her shoulders and said, "Is this better?"

"Hmm, maybe a little distraction wouldn't hurt." He kept his arm raised in invitation, and when she snuggled back in under it, he said, "Ah that's better. Anyway, Lesson One is actually very simple: I've found that when I devote myself entirely to my partner's pleasure, the rewards tend to be infinitely greater than when I try to look out for my own. When I was kneeling behind you, watching your tail waving around, listening to the sounds you were making, feeling your body move in response to what I was doing, and knowing that you had allowed me to be the first one to share this moment with you, I was in heaven. It was pure bliss, and that's why I said you had given me more than I could ever repay. Whatever pleasure I may have given you was vastly outweighed by the pleasure you gave me, and despite a bit of minor unpleasantness at the end, I will be forever in your debt for that."

"Mmm, that's nice," she said, hugging him tight for a moment. "I think you're exaggerating, but it's still nice."

"I'm absolutely serious," he said

"I have a question though," she said. "If you only devote yourself to the other person, what about you? Doesn't that mean that your partner doesn't get to do anything for you?"

"Ah, that's lesson two. Advanced students only. Do you think you're ready?"

She replied, "I can always drop the course if it gets too difficult for me."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that. I'll be happy to offer all the private tutoring you need. Free of charge, of course."

"I bet you will."

"Anyway, Lesson two is really just an extrapolation of lesson one: Presuming you are in a good relationship, it's safe to assume that it will make your partner happy to give you pleasure also. Therefore, allowing your partner freedom to satisfy your needs will actually be satisfying theirs as well. Mutual pleasure leads to mutual happiness, and I've found that that happiness tends to be multiplied rather than simply added together since anything shared is greater than it would be alone."

"You're right, John. You do tend to over-think things. Why not just say that having sex with someone you love is enjoyable for both of you?"

"Well, those are layman's terms for it, I suppose," he replied in a condescending tone, then let out an "oof" as Cynthia elbowed him in the ribs and, laughing said, "Sorry, but like I said, it works for me."

"As long as we're on the subject of sex, there's something else I want to ask you. It's about that little 'maneuver' you used earlier."

He didn't realize what she meant at first, but when he thought back he thought she might be referring to the little lick he had given her tail-hole to which she had reacted so amusingly. "Oh, do you mean my old "tongue in the chrysanthemum trick," he asked? "What about it?"

"Chrysanthemum?" She asked, puzzled.

"Sorry, it's just my own little euphemism for, well, a certain anatomical feature. It comes from the old Japanese Imperial Symbol, which was a chrysanthemum. It's always reminded me of that. I could call it a rosebud if you prefer, I think that's a more common floral nickname."

Cynthia sighed exasperatedly. "I don't care what you want to call it, John. Yes, that's what I wanted to ask you about."

"Oh. Sorry. What about it?"

She suddenly felt awkward, but carried on in a shy voice. "It's just that, I think I kind of... liked it." She finished softly.

He laughed and gave her shoulders a little squeeze. "Well, what's wrong with that? I was hoping you would. That's why I did it, after all."

"Well, isn't it kind of... gross?" She asked hesitantly.

"It depends on how you look at it, I suppose. The way I feel about you, it's hard for me to imagine anything but sunshine and rainbows coming out of your..."

"Chrysanthemum?" She offered sardonically.

"Precisely. Thank you. I enjoy doing it. I've always had an attraction to that area, and I've found that most women who can overcome the "grossness factor", if you will, tend to enjoy it to a certain extent. It is an unusual sensation after all."

"But does that mean you like anal sex?" She asked.

"Actually no. I tend to be far too worried about hurting my partner to enjoy myself when I've tried it in the past. I'm open to requests, of course."

"No, that won't be necessary. I don't enjoy it."

"Probably a story I don't want to hear behind that statement."

"Probably."

John decided to let it drop. Clearly it was something she felt uncomfortable talking about. "Well, is there anything else of a sexual nature that you wanted to discuss as long as we're on the subject?"

"Discuss? No. But there is something else."

"Oh? " He asked, perplexed. "What then?"

"This." She got up from the sofa and knelt down in front of him, reaching for his belt buckle. "I've been wanting to do this since you first brought me home, but I haven't had the chance until now."

Suddenly John felt uncomfortable. Maybe it had something to do with his feelings of helplessness, sitting there blind, or maybe he still didn't quite feel worthy of her, but suddenly he was as bashful as a fifteen year old virgin on his first date. "Oh, um sure, I mean, if you want to that is."

Cynthia caught his change of mood and looked up at him. "Why John, I do believe you're blushing under those bandages." She giggled a bit as she continued to undo his belt and the button and zipper on his jeans, "What happened to the man who stripped me naked and bent me over a chair in this very room earlier today? You weren't so shy then."

He grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, I don't know what's come over me. You just took me by surprise I guess."

"A great man once told me, 'You'll find I'm full of surprises.'"

John thought about that for a moment. "Hey, I was the one who said that earlier this afternoon."

"Well, I think you're pretty great, John." She said.

He blushed even harder.

Cynthia now had his jeans undone. She said, "Okay, lift yourself up so I can take these off."

Feeling uncomfortable but aroused, he complied, and she slid both his pants and underwear down to his ankles at the same time. When he sat back down, she paused for a moment to gaze at his rapidly stiffening penis. He had never considered himself to be larger than average. Fortunately, his ego wasn't as tied up in his size as some men's were, but he still felt compelled to make a joke. "Well, there it is. It's not much to look at, but it's got a great personality."

Cynthia played along, gripping his member in her right hand and moving it up and down as if she were shaking hands with it. "I'm sure we're going to be great friends." She said, adding, "Pleased to meet you Mr...."

He grunted in surprise when she grabbed him, and when she trailed off he said, "I'm not the kind of guy who has a name for his penis. I think that's bizarre."

"He prefers to remain nameless, eh? That's okay, I plan on getting to know him very well anyway." She released him and twisted her body slightly sideways. Taking her tail in her right hand, she used the fluffy tip to gently stroke his shaft slowly up and down and side to side.

He groaned in pleasure and said, "Oh God, Cynthia, that feels incredible!"

"My tail isn't just decorative, John. It does have its uses, and I plan on showing you all of them." She released her tail and crouched down to put her face level with his crotch. She then touched her cold damp nose to the head of his penis and he flinched.

"That tickles," he protested.

She giggled but didn't reply, merely began moving her muzzle slowly down his shaft and around the side until she had it buried in his pubic hair, whereupon she inhaled deeply through her nose.

"NOW what are you doing?" he asked. "Geez Cynthia, I haven't even had a chance to shower after work today. You don't really want to be doing that, do you?"

"So much the better," she replied. "I'm trying to get to know your scent. It's every bit as important to me as sight and sound, and I need to learn everything about you. Remember, I put myself entirely in your hands this afternoon. You can at least do the same for me can't you?"

He gritted his teeth, but he had to concede that she did have a good point. Especially after he made a big deal about his sexual philosophy of allowing one's partner to do what would make her happy. "Sorry, I guess I'm just feeling a bit awkward right now."

"Just relax and everything will be fine. I know exactly what I'm doing," she said.

She placed her lips on the head of his penis and slowly engulfed it, moving her tongue from side to side as she did so. Then, when she reached the base, she just as slowly drew her head upwards again, allowing her teeth to gently rake his shaft on the way up. He groaned in pleasure, and placed his hands on her head, running the fingers of his left hand through her hair while lightly stroking one velvet-soft ear with his right.

She continued to work slowly, almost teasingly up and down his length, swirling her tongue skillfully around him, and occasionally making gentle use of her teeth, which nearly drove John wild from sheer pleasure. It was all he could do to keep from bucking his hips wildly under her maddeningly pleasurable assault upon his manhood. He found himself moaning and groaning as he had never done before with another woman, but couldn't find it within himself to be embarrassed by his uncharacteristically vocal reaction to her ministrations.

As she worked, she put her hands underneath his t-shirt, rubbing his chest and stomach, and playfully teasing his nipples with her fingertips.

He continued almost desperately to stroke her hair and ears as she gradually increased her tempo, using her tongue more and more as her head bobbed up and down. In one way, he wished he were able to watch her as she pleasured him, but in another it seemed as if his lack of sight made the sensations he was feeling even more intense for some reason. Aside from the obvious feelings provided by her mouth on his penis, there was the feeling of her hair and ears under his hands, and of her furry body between his thighs. Added to this were the sounds of his own pleasure, and the softly muffled squelching sounds her mouth made as she performed her magic upon him.

John knew he wouldn't be able to last long with the combination of the head of steam he had already built up that afternoon and her amazing technique, so he said to her, "I'm just about to come Cynthia," in case she wanted to pull off of him and finish with a hand, but she merely responded with a long "Mmmmhmmm" and kept right on bobbing. He released her head and placed his hands on the sofa at his sides so that he wouldn't involuntarily pull her toward him and gag her when he came, which he was just about to do.

His whole body began to tense up and he gripped the cushions of the sofa tightly in his fists as he felt the first waves of his orgasm hit him. She switched to a sucking and swallowing action as he began to shoot his load, which only intensified his pleasure. Then, she continued sucking even as the spasms decreased and finally ceased, not stopping until she could feel him start to soften in her mouth, whereupon she allowed him to slip out from between her lips and plop onto the sofa cushion.

He leaned his head back, spent, and said, "Oh my God, Cynthia. That was wonderful! I've never felt anything like it before. Thank you for finishing, but you didn't have to swallow if you didn't want to."

"I don't mind," she said, "Zach always insisted, unless he wanted to..." She stopped abruptly, and there was a brief uncomfortable silence until she finally said, "I'm sorry John, I shouldn't keep bringing him up. He's not important any more."

He sighed sadly and said, "You'd better tell me anyway Cynthia. I won't be able to think about anything else until I know. What did he want to do sometimes?"

"Well," she began hesitantly, "It's just that sometimes he liked to spray me in the face when he came. It made him laugh when I had to spend so much time and effort to get his cum out of my fur. I'm sorry," she finished miserably.

John knew he should feel angry, but the only emotion he could find within himself was sadness for the time she had lost in a relationship with a man who wasn't worthy of her. He reached down to take her by the shoulders and guide her back up to sit beside him, where he once again put an arm around her and pulled her tightly against him. She rested her head on his shoulder.

"I'm the one who's sorry Cynthia. I should've let it go, rather than making you tell me. I never want to make you feel bad about yourself." He breathed in and sighed while he collected his thoughts, and then said, "Well, not only does that confirm for me that Zach is a jerk who enjoyed degrading you, but apparently he watches too much porn as well. I didn't think guys actually did that in real life."

He gave her shoulders a little squeeze and leaned in carefully to kiss her on top of her head, then said, "But you were right just now, He's not important any more. All that matters is us, and I don't want to let anything spoil our happiness."

For an answer, she put her arms around him and kissed him with a tenderness and quiet passion that surprised both of them a bit.

When she finally broke off her kiss, John said a bit awkwardly, "Um, are you hungry?"

She giggled and replied, "You're such a sweet-talker, John. I bet all the other girls just melt when you whisper sweet nothings like that into their ears."

He grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. I guess that wasn't terribly romantic, was it? My mouth tends to run by itself when I get flustered, and that kiss definitely flustered me. I just realized that I haven't eaten anything today and I didn't think you had either. I've got some lunchmeat in the kitchen. We could have some sandwiches."

She stood up and said, "That sounds terrific to me, but John?"

"What is it?"

She stage-whispered now. "You might want to pull your pants back up first."

It suddenly dawned on him that he had been sitting with his jeans around his ankles while they had been having an otherwise serious conversation. His face turned bright red under his bandages when he thought about how ridiculous he must look. Awkwardly he dressed himself as he stood, mumbling an apology at the same time.

Cynthia giggled. "Oh John, you know I'm only teasing you. If I knew how cute you are when you're embarrassed I'd have started teasing you a long time ago. Now give me your hand and let's get some lunch." She guided him to the kitchen, and got him seated at the table while she went to the refrigerator. She clucked her tongue at the contents.

"You're such a bachelor, John. I see takeout containers, cold cuts, bread, condiments..." opening the freezer she continued, "frozen pizza, frozen dinners. How can you live like this? You really need someone around to take care of you."

"Actually I enjoy cooking." He replied. "I'll make you dinner some time to prove it to you. There just doesn't seem to be much point when it's only me. It's so much easier just to pick something up on the way home from work or heat something in the microwave. And of course there are always sandwiches."

"I like to cook too." She said. "We should make something together some time." Thinking about this domestic scene made her suddenly shy, and she gathered the sandwich ingredients in silence and brought them to the table, laying them out for easy access.

She sat down and silently began silently putting together two sandwiches, for some reason unwilling to speak, until John, uncomfortable with the sudden silence, finally cleared his throat and said, "So. Here we are..."

Cynthia giggled a bit. "I'm sorry John. I don't know why I'm so quiet all of a sudden. I guess I'm just thinking about us. Not that there is necessarily an us now," she hastily added. "I mean. I don't want you to think I'm assuming..."

"Please Cynthia," he interrupted. "It's funny how the act of making sandwiches can suddenly make us uncomfortable after everything we've shared today." She giggled nervously in response, and he smiled hearing it. "I suppose this would be as good a time as any for me to clear this up. I can't really think of an elegant or poetic way to put this, so I'll just spit it out as plainly as I can. Cynthia? Would you please be my girlfriend?"

"Oh John," she replied, her voice choked with emotion. "I'd love to be yours, if you'll have me." She stood up and came around the table, enveloping him in a tight embrace, the butter knife forgotten in her hand, kissing him tenderly.

He returned the kiss passionately, and once she finally broke off, he whispered hoarsely, "If I'll have you? I'm the one who's been pining after you like a lovesick teenager remember? This moment is a dream come true for me. I can't tell you how happy I am right now."

"No happier than I am John," she said. "I may not have known how you felt, but you've been a wonderful friend to me ever since we met, and already this feels so right and natural to me I can't believe I didn't see it before." Suddenly she noticed the knife still clutched in her hand and stood up again, returning to her chair.

"But I know I'm still hungry, and I'm sure you are as well. Now that we have the formalities of our relationship settled, let's get back to what we were doing. I think I can make lunch now without those uncomfortable silences creeping in."

John laughed. "I'm glad to hear it. We've always felt comfortable around each other, and I'd hate for that to change now, when we should be getting closer rather than more distant. Our friendship has always been incredibly important to me, and I want that to continue. If possible I'd like it to grow deeper and stronger than before."

"I'd like that too John. Now would you like ham or turkey?"

"Both please. I'm starving."

She made the sandwiches and they ate, mostly in silence, but not the uncomfortable silence of before, but rather the companionable silence of two hungry friends content to merely enjoy one another's company as they ate. After they finished, they continued sitting at the table for a while, just talking about inconsequential matters for a bit.

After chatting for a while - mostly about work - Cynthia said, "Are you getting tired?"

John replied, "Not particularly."

"Good. Me neither, let's go to bed."

John laughed. "Your wish is my command," he said

After she finished clearing away their supper she turned to him and asked, "Okay, which way to your bedroom?"

Standing up and holding out his hand so she could guide him, he directed her upstairs to a door at the end of the hallway. She opened the door and they entered. She paused, then released his hand and began to move around the bedroom, "This isn't your room, John," she said finally.

He knew he was busted but tried to bluff anyway. "What are you talking about, of course it is," he said in what he hoped was an innocent tone of voice, but which sounded weak even to him.

She continued poking about, opening the closet door and pulling out dresser drawers. "Well, first of all, I really don't see floral wallpaper, a crazy-quilt bedspread, and a farmyard scene print on the wall as your style. Second, there's not a single piece of clothing or a personal item in here. And third, you're forgetting my magnificent nose. There's barely a trace of your scent in here, you haven't even been in this room in ages. You don't have to be a detective to figure out that this is a guest bedroom." She turned to him and said, "So spill it, what's going on?"

He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and said sheepishly, "Look, my room is kind of a mess right now. Wouldn't you rather we slept here tonight?"

She took his hand again and tried to lead him from the room, saying, "Nonsense. How can I get to know the real you if you're going to try to hide things from me." When he resisted she continued, "The house isn't THAT big, John. I'll find it myself eventually if I keep opening doors."

He realized she was now determined to see his room and he knew she had a stubborn streak, so he finally sighed and directed her to another door at the far end of the hallway. When she opened the door and turned on the light switch she paused for a moment, then started laughing, finally managing to choke out, "Oh my God, John, it's a pigsty."

"I tried to warn you," he said as he attempted to pull her gently back into the hall.

She wasn't ready to leave yet, however. She managed to extricate her hand from his and moved into the room, leaving him standing at the doorway.

She stood in the middle of the room for a moment, drinking in the scene. It was a fairly small bedroom with a rumpled, unmade single bed in one corner and a small computer desk in the corner at the foot of the bed - with a swivel chair wedged into the narrow space in between. There were two bookcases stuffed with books against one wall, but even together they were apparently not up to the task, because there were also books piled on almost every horizontal surface. A dressing table with a television sat next to the desk and there was a dresser against the wall, which apparently didn't get much use because there were clothes in heaps on the floor as well as a slightly neater stack on the room's only other chair. A nightstand with a clock radio, a phone, and, of course, more books sat at the head of the bed.

As she turned in place near the center of the room, slowly surveying the devastation, she noticed a picture on the wall next to the door, which she had her back to when she entered. "And what is that hanging on the wall, John?" She asked innocently.

He immediately realized what she was referring to. It was a framed print of a painting depicting a skunk girl in a bikini at the beach, which he had completely forgotten about until this moment. He placed his back against the doorjamb and slid down until he was sitting on the floor, muttering, "This isn't happening," to himself.

"Well?" she demanded.

"I bought it because she reminded me of you," he said, embarrassed.

"My boobs aren't half that big, John," she said critically.

"Forget about her boobs," he responded, irritated. "Look at her eyes. You both have the same pretty blue eyes."

"Aww, that's sweet. Weird, but sweet," she replied. Turning her attention to the clothes scattered about, she asked, "How do you even know what to wear in this mess?"

"I pile the clean laundry on the chair and throw the dirty on the floor. When the chair is empty I know it's time to do another load," he explained, trying to make it sound as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"What's the point of having a dresser if you're not even going to use it?" She asked. Moving to the dresser she pulled out a few drawers. Sure enough, other than some socks and underwear the dresser was mostly empty except for a few carefully folded dress slacks and shirts.

Cynthia then began a closer examination of the items on his dresser. She now turned to him again and said, slyly, "I like your toys, John." She then continued in her best little-girl voice, "Can I play with them later?" and dissolved in a fit of giggling.

Again, he knew immediately what she was talking about. He had eclectic collection of action figures, toy cars, and other assorted odds and ends he had picked up over the years sitting on his dresser and desk as well as scattered in various places around his room. "I don't suppose it would help if I told you they were collectibles," he offered hopefully.

"Not at all," she said, adding, "Geek." She giggled again.

"Couldn't you just punch me in the face instead," he asked plaintively. "It would be less painful than this."

"A punch in the face is over in a second," she replied. "This pummeling can go on and on indefinitely. Besides, you've been known to tease me, too. About my taste in music, for one thing."

"BOY bands, Cynthia? I can hardly be blamed for teasing you about that!"

"Hmm, I wonder what else I can find if I poke around in here some more?"

John knew he was beaten, and besides, he had a couple of magazines stashed away that he'd really rather she didn't find. "All right, all right, I surrender," he capitulated.

"AND...?"

"And boy bands are great," he finished between clenched teeth.

"There now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" she asked sweetly.

He let that pass.

Cynthia then turned to something that had been puzzling her, "I don't understand. You keep the rest of the house so neat and tidy. How did you let your room get to be like this?"

He sat for a long moment to gather his thoughts, and then said, "Why don't you have a seat? This will take a bit of explaining."

Cynthia complied, sitting down on the bed, waiting silently for him to continue.

"I guess I keep the rest of the house tidy as a kind of tribute to my mother. It would break her heart to see her home in less-than-perfect condition. She was always an immaculate housekeeper, but the one thing she could never do was get me to keep my room clean, no matter how much she begged or threatened me. Eventually we came to a kind of truce. She'd let me keep my room as messy as I wanted and I wouldn't let the chaos spread to the rest of the house.

"When my parents died I was away at college, and the news really hit me like a ton of bricks. I immediately dropped out and returned home to settle their affairs. It was a pretty dark time for me, as you might imagine, and although I was able to keep myself busy enough during the day to keep from dwelling too much on the pain, at night I was having a hard time sleeping all alone in what now seemed to be such a big, empty house. I found that the only thing that helped was to surround myself with things from my childhood - sleeping in my same little room in my same little bed surrounded by my books and toys and, perversely, letting my room become an even bigger disaster than it had ever been when I was a kid.

"Eventually, when the pain had faded enough for me to function somewhat normally again, I thought about moving into the master bedroom of what was now, after all, my house, but I felt as if I'd be dishonoring my parents' memories somehow by moving into their bedroom. Besides, I was comfortable in here. I mentioned earlier that the house had more space than I needed. I really don't use much more than this room, the kitchen, and the family room downstairs if I have friends over. Generally, when I'm home you'll find me in here, where I have everything I need right at my fingertips."

"I'm sorry John, I shouldn't have teased you," she said, touched by his story.

John laughed. "No, you were right. My room is a disaster," he said, continuing, "Like I told you, I'm in a much better place now about my parents' deaths. It's been pure laziness which has kept me from doing something about it until now, and it was only embarrassment which made me want to hide it from you."

"What have other girls said when they've seen it?" she asked in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner.

He laughed again. "This may come as a huge shock to you, but I'm not the biggest ladies-man in the world." At this point she threw a pillow at him, scoring a direct hit on his head. "Seriously though, for a long time after my parents died I was too depressed to consider dating and since I met you I've had a hard time thinking about anyone else romantically. The few times it might have been an issue I've been able to see the relationship moving in that direction early enough to 'prep' the guest bedroom to seem like my room. Obviously today things moved rather more rapidly than usual."

"Is that what you were really so nervous about in the car when you wanted to put me up in a guest room, me seeing your room?"

He laughed. "No, I meant what I said. I didn't want you to think that I assumed we were lovers now."

Changing the subject John said, "Well, now that you've seen my deep, dark secret, why don't we go back to the guest room?"

"No." Cynthia replied abruptly. "I like it here." Changing to a sultry, breathy voice she continued, "Squalor makes me hot!"

Incredulously he said, "Now you're just being silly, Cynthia. The bed isn't even big enough for both of us."

"Then we'll just have to snuggle up extra close, won't we?" Seeing that he was going to keep arguing, she cut him off. "I'm serious, John. We're sleeping in here tonight and I don't want to hear another word about it," she said firmly.

Shaking his head in confusion, all John could reply was, "Whatever you say, Cynthia."

"That's what I like to hear," she said. "Blind obedience has its rewards. I intend to show you some of them tonight."

"I can hardly wait, " he said as she got up and came over to him, helping him up and guiding him across the floor to his bed, where she sat him down and said, "Now you wait right here John. I just need to take care of a few things before we go to bed."

"Sure Cynthia. The bathroom is right across the hall if you need to use it," he said, reclining on the bed. "I'll wait right here."

She leaned down and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before returning to the living room to retrieve her overnight bag, and as an afterthought, her bra and panties from the floor where they still lay forgotten since that afternoon, and went to the bathroom across from his bedroom, turning on the light and the extractor-fan, and setting the case on the vanity. She put her under things inside and removed the can of deodorizer once again, setting it down for the moment. She removed her shoes, jeans and shirt, folding the latter two items neatly and placing them on the clothes hamper. She wanted to surprise John by coming back to him already nude. She put the toilet seat down and sat down, first taking the opportunity to relieve herself before she got to the real reason for her preparations. She didn't want a repeat of this afternoon's fiasco, so she wanted to empty her musk gland as completely as possible. She clenched her muscles as tightly as she could several times until she felt she could no longer squeeze anything more out, then immediately flushed the toilet to get rid of most of the smell, stood and sprayed a generous amount of deodorizer from the can into the air. Satisfied, she exited the bathroom and shut the door behind her, leaving the fan running.

She padded quietly back across the hall on her bare feet and peered in at John, who had taken off his own shirt and jeans and was lying on the bed in just his boxers, with his fingers laced together behind his head. She clicked off the light switch next to the door and entered the room. There was still enough light coming from the window and the hall to enable her to see, especially since her eyes were well adapted for low light conditions. Hearing her entrance, he silently turned over onto his left side and moved over as far as he could against the wall to give her room to get into the small bed alongside him, and she picked her way across the cluttered floor to lie down next to him, kissing him softly at first, but then with increasing passion.

He put an arm over her, surprised and delighted to discover no clothing in the way of his hands' exploration of her body. He began stroking the incredibly soft fur along her side and back, and she started to make involuntary sounds at the back of her throat almost like purring, whereupon he abruptly snatched his hand away.

"What's the matter John?" she asked, concerned.

"I just feel a bit awkward, laying here petting you like you're a housecat or something," he replied sheepishly.

"Let me explain something to you John." She put her mouth next to his ear, and in a sultry whisper said, "The reason cats like to be petted is that it feels gooood." Then gave his earlobe a little nip to emphasize her point.

"Mmmm, I'll have to remember that," he said, gladly resuming his soft stroking of her fur.

"Please do," she said, kissing her way along his neck and throat and throwing her top leg over his, rubbing it teasingly up and down against his thigh.

"Oh Cynthia, you feel so wonderful," he said, running his fingers through the fur on her back, ending up with his hand gently cupping one furry buttock.

She gasped slightly, then replied, "You don't feel so bad yourself," trailing her fingernails lightly down his chest.

He leaned his head forward to kiss the point of her shoulder, softly nuzzling his way across to the center of her chest, then downwards between her breasts, where he paused for a moment to inhale the sweet scent of her fur. Then, working by touch with his fingertips, he found the nipple of her left breast, now uppermost with her lying on her right side, and gently parted the fur with his index and middle fingers while moving his mouth into position to touch the point of his tongue to the tip of her nipple, holding it there for a moment before beginning to move it in a swirling motion around the now-hardening nub, and finally taking it into his mouth and lightly sucking on it.

She moaned, arching her back in pleasure as much as the small bed would allow and holding onto the back of his neck with her left hand as if afraid he would stop. He had no intention of stopping immediately though, as he had been anxious to do this ever since this afternoon, but had been in too big a hurry. He continued licking and sucking, using his now free right hand to once again explore her body, paying special attention to the unfamiliar delight of her fluffy tail, stroking it and combing his fingers through its long, luxurious fur. He continued this for a little while before moving his head lower to give her right nipple some of the same attention he had been lavishing on her left, now using his fingers to lightly pinch and tease the one his mouth had abandoned.

Her moans were becoming increasingly loud and frequent under his assault, until finally she could stand it no longer. "Oh John," she husked. "I need you. Now." She disengaged her breast from his mouth in order to reach down and once again pull his underwear off over his now erect penis, tossing them carelessly to the floor behind her, then lay down on her back, expecting him to roll over on top of her in the missionary position.

He surmised however, that Zach had not been the type who would allow her to take any of the control in their - he hesitated to think of it as lovemaking, since it was clear that Zach never truly loved her - sex life, so he leaned close and murmured into her ear, "No. Let's try this another way." Putting his hands around her waist, he rolled over onto his back, pulling her on top of him, so that they now lay belly-to-belly, with her on top and her legs straddling his stomach.

She was hesitant at first, saying, "I've never done it like this before," but he softly replied, "This is a day for trying new things, sweetheart, and besides, since you haven't had any luck with orgasm from intercourse before, it'll make it easier for me to give you a little extra help."

"What do you mean by that?" she asked, confused.

He responded by holding up his right index finger in front of her face. She was confused at first, but soon realized what he was planning to do with it and giggled. "Oh," she said. "THAT kind of help."

She leaned back until she was kneeling upright over him, and reached behind her with her right hand to grasp his member and guide him inside her slowly. Already she felt better than she ever had before with Zach, and once again she moaned softly as she came to rest with John now fully inside her. He licked the tip of his index finger to moisten it thoroughly, then reached down between their bodies, finding her clit by feel, and at first simply resting his fingertip ever so lightly against it, and eliciting another soft moan from her.

"Just pick your own pace," he said softly. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. I just want to make sure you get something out of this for a change."

Already feeling what was for her an unfamiliar sense of pleasure, she simply nodded, not even thinking about the fact that he couldn't see her with his eyes bandaged, and began to slowly move her hips, grinding against him. For his part, he began to make tiny, rhythmic, circular motions against her clit with his finger, and placed his free left hand on her right thigh, softly stroking her fur.

Gradually increasing her tempo, she sighed as she leaned backwards further, arching her back and running her fingers through her head-fur as she bent her head as far back as it could go, and once again starting to make purring noises at the back of her throat.

Moving his left hand from her thigh to her belly, he began softly scritching at the sensitive area around her navel, increasing the volume and intensity of her purring and moaning.

In one way he wished he was able to see her as she writhed in ecstasy above him, but in another he was once again amazed by how his lack of sight allowed him to concentrate on other sensations: the feeling of her fur against his skin, the delightful noises she was making, and of course, the almost painfully intense feeling of being inside her as she moved her pelvis against his in an increasingly vigorous way.

As he had earlier, he "listened" to the cues her body was giving him, gradually upping the tempo he used as he massaged her clitoris, and finally beginning to add his own hip movements to hers. In truth it would have been difficult to keep from doing so, since at this point his need was matching if not surpassing her own. He was careful to let her guide him however, not allowing his own need to overwhelm his desire to show her what a true act of love could be like between two people who cared about one another.

He slowly moved his free hand upwards, running his fingers through her belly fur until he arrived at her breasts, first cupping one, then the other, before lightly caressing them as softly as he could while she bucked against him with ever-greater abandon, now yelping in the most amazing way. Clearly she was getting close...

Once again she put her hands on his chest and began to run her fingernails down it repeatedly, not even realizing she was doing it. Under other circumstances it might actually have been painful, but to John it was simply another sensation to be experienced, treasured, and remembered. In actual fact, it was driving him a bit wild, and he started arching his back to match her movements with increasing enthusiasm. This worried him at first, lest it be too much for her, but Cynthia's moaning, purring and yelping only increased, so he decided (as if his body would allow him to make any other decision) to simply go with it, now as much an active participant as she was.

As labored as her breathing had become, she managed to gasp out, "Oh John... I think... I'm going to..." Abruptly she shuddered and her muscles locked, her pussy becoming like a vice, putting his penis into a prison from which he hoped it would never escape, her hands turning into claws which gripped painfully at his chest before, after a magical moment which seemed to last forever, she abruptly collapsed against him with a final gasp, utterly spent.

He managed to extricate his hands from between them and put his arms around her, cradling her to his chest and softly stroking the fur on her back as he nuzzled into her shoulder and neck.

"And that," he whispered quietly and a little hoarsely into her ear, "is what making love is supposed to feel like."

She gave a tired but happy little sigh in response, still too overwhelmed by fatigue to move, and enjoying their physical contact too much to want to in any case, before turning her head to kiss him tenderly. Suddenly however, she realized that he was still hard inside her and said, "Oh! But John, you didn't come. I'm so selfish! I was only thinking about my own pleasure, and you didn't get anything out of it."

She struggled to rise, but he held her gently but firmly against his chest, once again speaking softly into her ear, "Shh my darling. Who said I didn't get anything out of it? Remember what I said earlier about getting the most pleasure out of concentrating on my partner's needs? This was the finest example of that I've ever experienced. I can honestly say this is the most wonderful night I've ever had. You've shared something with me which is precious beyond all measure, and I'll be forever grateful to you. Besides," he added with a smile, "I'm afraid it hadn't been all that long since you 'took a bullet out of the gun' in the living room so to speak. I guess I'm not as young as I used to be or I'm sure I would've arrived at the finish line before you. I was so turned on you wouldn't believe it."

"Oh John," she said, allowing herself to collapse back against him, "what did I ever do to deserve someone like you?"

She kissed his shoulder and then rolled off him, once again on her side facing him on the narrow bed. He also tuned on his side again, so that they faced one another, their noses almost touching. She caressed his cheek with one hand, saying slightly sleepily, "now for the next part of the experience. Now I want to sleep with you. Just sleep, wrapped in your arms, as I want to be forever."

"Well, I'm afraid we'll have to get pretty close if you don't want to fall out of bed," he said softly.

She gave a lazy smile and turned over, spooning against him with her tail nestled comfortably between their two bodies. He put his arm over the top of her, holding her close, and inhaled deeply through his nose. "Mmm. Just the slightest hint of musk," he said. "You know? I think I could really get to like that scent if this is what it's associated with."

He kissed the back of her neck and she gave a tired little giggle before falling comfortably into slumber as if they had been together for years. He whispered softly, "Good night my love," before joining her in blissful sleep. Two lovers, together now as it was always meant to be...

Well, that's chapter two - long promised, and finally delivered. As before, I'd like to ask (nay, beg) for your comments. You have no idea how much they meant to me after posting chapter one, even if I was unforgivably slow in delivering the sequel.

I'm not certain if John and Cynthia will return, but they're my first "children", and as such I love them. I'll certainly keep thinking about them, and if I get an idea for another story involving them, I'll certainly try to work it into a "chapter three". In the meantime I have a couple of other ideas I'm toying with, so I hope this isn't the end of my writing career. Now if I can just get busy on them before the "high" I got from this one wears off...