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Lars wasn't sure why he'd been picked. The other men were older, probably a lot smarter, easily more experienced. Lars was good-looking and quiet, prone to wiseguy remarks and with an unhealthy affinity for sexual assault jokes, but he didn't think that made for a good drug runner.

And yet there he was inside of a five-star hotel, riding the elevator to the top while muzak designed with surgical care to be as inoffensive and soulless as possible played above the thrum of the machinery. He sank his paws into the deep pockets of his coat and wondered if he could be any more obvious. He was dressed a rung above a homeless, crazy Vietnam veteran as far as looks went. In the presence of Persian rugs and gold filigrees, he was full-on vagabond.

The elevator dinged, letting the red panda out not into a hallway like he expected but a foyer. He instinctively looked up at the semicircle indicating the floor, expecting he'd pressed the wrong button and somehow ended up at the lobby again. It indicated P, _for _Penthouse.

He stepped out into the moody hues of the foyer and hadn't been there ten seconds before the doors at the end of the hall flew open. They banged savagely on the walls, and Lars distinctly heard a splintering crack from one's hinges. In the doorway, arms just returning to her sides, was a naked beauty whom Lars recognized from magazines and celeb gossip television as "Kocaine" Kahnso, renowned rock frontlady and alleged rapist of the decade. To say Lars focused on her tits was to imply that he bothered to look anywhere else. He stared at them, bouncing and heaving with every heavy step of the vixen until she was nearly in his face.

"You got my shit are did you sneak up here for an autograph?"

Lars smiled. "Oh, you mean this coke and heroin I've been carrying across the city at great personal risk? No, I don't have any of that - I'm just here for a blowjob."

Kahnso sneered. The massive toothiness of her expression was a sight to behold, but nothing comparable to her hard body, soft in the very best of places. "All right, smartass. Step into my office here. Let's see if I can find your dick under that chic homeless fashion of yours."

The red panda followed her closely into the suite proper. His eyes studied her bottom extensively. "Well, I mean, you paid for the stuff up-front, but delivery charges aren't tips and you should reward your drug mule for great service."

She glanced over her shoulder at him as she passed the doorway. "You're funny. Maybe I won't kick you out on your ass as soon as I get my shit."

Lars couldn't put the pin back in. Following Kahnso into the lush penthouse suite, he said despairingly, "Oh, please don't, miss Kahnso. 'Tis ever so cold and cruel these winter nights."

"Yeah, yeah, all right, Tiny Tim," said Kahnso, twisting on her heel. She dropped herself into the armchair. With thighs shamelessly apart and pink pussy on display, she growled, "Well, come on. Make with the goods."

In a moment of rare temperance, Lars didn't ask if she meant his cock. He pulled out two sandwich bags from his coat pockets, one double-bagged and loaded with pillowy white powder, the other single-bagged and considerably less full of a clumpy powder the hue of soil. He dropped both on the glass coffee table and sank his paws into his pockets again, holding apart his ratty coat boredly. "That's all there is."

She only glanced at the drugs. Even so far from home, she didn't doubt the quality of the stuff. It wasn't a sixth sense that informed her, but just the fact that she paid handsomely wherever she went, and any dealer worth a gram knew that her recommendations were the Michelin guide of hardcore drug abuse.

The vixen licked her jowl and leaned forward, putting elbows on knees. She ground her palms together luridly and stared at Lars with her snout tilted low. "How about it, then? You still want your cock sucked or what?"

Lars grinned. He slipped off his coat and peeled up his nasty, sweat-stained shirt. His fingers started on the zipper of his fly but Kahnso pounced from her seated position, tackling him to the soft carpet like a panther on the hunt. To his surprise and mild irritation, he yelped.

Kahnso brought her long, toothy snout near the panda's and pinched his cheek with her front teeth. A deep and hungry growl informed her desires, drawing out into a rumbling as she alternately bit and kissed down his jawline and neck. She skipped much of his breast, going right for a nipple, both of which were run through with small silver barbells. The growl wore off only when she flicked her tongue's tip across the nipple, coaxing it hard. The panda's quiet, shuddering moan put a swish in her tail. "Like having your tits played with, huh? Makes one of us, anyway."

The panda folded his arms behind his head. The reek of his body odor was broadcast from his bared armpits, a smell he had long since tuned out. Kahnso made him bitingly aware of his offensiveness when she said: "You stink like a gym bag, fucker."

"Deodorant's expensive, cunt."

She laughed disarmingly but just as quickly gnashed her teeth before his nose. Lars flinched, delighting the vixen who abruptly and shockingly mashed her muzzle into an armpit and drew a deep hit with her nose. A flush grew in Lars' cheeks, joined by a bashful smirk when she audaciously dragged her tongue through the caked-in sweat and stink.

"Taste like a real man," she grumbled. "Bet your ass is just as good."

Lars couldn't bring himself to make fun of her, not when he'd been proselytizing the unfettered stink of masculinity for so long. He was still nearly giddy with anticipation when her long, strong fingers opened his fly. "Jesus fuck," he exhaled, watching her pull down his jeans. Red boxers with countless sweat stains in them were all that remained on his body, their fabric tented obscenely. "Do you wanna get married or something?"

"Fuck no."

"Me either," the panda concurred, helpfully bending his foot when the vixen tried to get his pants off completely. "Fuckbuddies though?"

She leaned over him again, but this time lower. With the button of her nose pinning his underwear against the base of his cock, she said, "As long as I'm stuck in this shithole city, sure."

It put a big, happy grin on the panda's face to know he was in the company of such an agreeable piece of ass. His eyelids drew down like curtains when the rockstar bitch peeled off his boxers. They clung to his sweaty fur, reminding her of thin napkins sticking to cold beer mugs.

Unlike his pants, Kahnso let Lars keep his boxers on around his knees. She knelt on them, pinning him neatly although it wasn't her intent. Lars felt her long, warm mouth around his meat in an instant, that famous screaming tongue of hers slathering his black panda meat. She was greedy, taking away all of his hard-earned sweat and stink, leaving behind some slobber with every lap. He peeked down his hard, vaguely malnourished body and felt a strange pang of inadequacy when he saw how much room was left between his cock and her saber fangs.

Kahnso sucked, bringing in her jowls and cheeks with the seal. Brute force was her game, guiding her as she sucked and gulped on Lars until his black, intact meat throbbed and swelled with vacuumed blood. Lars hissed, unfolding his arms and splaying them as if trying to make a snow angel. He raked his uneven, brittle claws across the carpeting. "You keep sucking like that, you're gonna turn it inside-out," he said in a pained voice.

The vixen's cocksucking seal broke in a sharp, wet pop. Lars felt immediate relief best shown in a gasp and a subtle arch of his spine, and then he settled down against the plush carpeting. Kahnso pulled back from the panda's filthy prick and mannishly wiped her lips on the back of her arm. "Still the best head you've ever had, don't bullshit me."

"Yeah, I guess so," Lars said, keeping his disagreement wisely to himself. He stayed quiet and unobtrusive when she pulled off his boxers, yanking them down with such strength that he was surprised they didn't shred in her meaty, clawed fingers. Lars would have been sad to lose the only pair of underwear he owned.

Again with that monstrous physical strength which came with years of bodybuilding and was complemented by her natural size, Kahnso snapped her fingers around the panda's ass cheeks and lifted him up onto his shoulder blades. Lars said something in shock; something bitchy and, he thought immediately after, indicative of his bottom-bitch nature to the rockstar. She was hoisting him up, upending him so his balls tried to fall around his cock and his butthole winked in open, posh air, and he really wasn't ready to be her personal ragdoll.

Then Lars felt the vixen's hard fangs on his ass, her tongue and sticky jowls on his anus, and everything went back to being pretty cool with him. She dabbed her tongue against his sweat-hardened fur then slurped indulgently up through his entire ass crack. With a hiss, she mashed her lips into his asshole and kissed it, sucked it, made its surface swell. Through her dirty work, Lars gnawed his lip and fantasized about the vixen hiring him full-time as her sweat slut. Rockstars were weird creatures. If a stray brown M&M could warrant the annihilation of a hotel room, his daydream was a possibility.

"Your ass is like a fuckin' locker room," Kahnso breathed into his crack, her fingers leaving dents in his flesh he wasn't sure would pop back out. A snarl both painted and trailed the fox's words and she slathered her tongue in for a second go, this time not dredging it up until she mussed the stiff fur on the back of his balls. "You don't get buttfucked, do you? Your asshole's too pretty for that."

"I don't, no," Lars honestly answered, but he thought if this drugged-up rockstar cooze wanted to pop his ass cherry with a strap-on, he couldn't see much of a problem with that.

Kahnso smacked her lips on his well-polished asshole and pulled back, letting him uncurl like a roll of carpet. He lay there for a moment, stunned and hard and very curious about the vixen's intentions. His meat throbbed, still aching from her overwhelming muzzle love, with veins pocking its skin. Lars finally understood how those dick vacuum pumps worked, and he felt very sorry for any man who put stock in them.

"C'mere, you hot lil' piece of street ass," Kahnso hissed, grinning a mouthful of sharp, perfect teeth at Lars. She stood up a little clumsily but stuck the landing when she flopped against the bed. Its topsheet rumpled under her sudden weight. "Come on! Get over here."

The panda presently joined Kahnso, halting just behind her heart-shaped ass. He licked his lips, reaching for the twin cheeks with fingers nearly trembling, though that could have just as easily been his malnutrition at work. "Nice ass."

"You goddamn bet it is. Each cheek's insured for half a mil, so don't get too happy back there."

Lars smiled dully, wondering if she was being truthful. He decided she was, if only because tearing up a million-dollar ass to the vexation of some insurance agency was a thrill he couldn't ignore. He fell against her, cock slipping between her plush ass pillows like a hotdog into a bun. Lars ground into her crack, wiping her fresh slobber off into her soft fur. Your ass crack is softer than the carpet in here, Lars thought not bitterly, but with disappointment. Need to be a grubby, gross bitch. Then I'd put a fucking ring on it.

"Which hole?" he asked her in an even tone, though the answer a foregone conclusion. She was too rich to be a backdoor beauty, and yet-

"Fuck my ass," said Kahnso, her voice indulgently slutty. "Unless you wanted the pussy. In which case, fuck my ass anyway. My piss is worth more than a pint of your blood and you're gonna do what I fucking say."

Surprised though he was, Lars kept it to himself. He just went about his business as if she'd said no mustard, ketchup instead. His grimy fingers curled around her ass cheeks, squeezing down until pliant girly fat gave way for hard muscle, and he pulled them apart an inch on either side. When he got a close look at the rockstar vixen's tight, pink asshole, he wondered if she had it treated at the same time as he ground his cock against it. He blurted, "Do you bleach your butthole?"

"Fuck no, I don't," she viciously snapped. "You homeless fuck! I should make cuff links out of your eyeballs, Clockwork Orange style."

Lars slipped into the vixen, forcing open tight anal walls with his big, black dick. His foreskin slid back smoothly on a coating of precum and bodily grease, exposing his cockhead to the vixen's inner flesh. A shudder passed through his scrawny body and his paws slid up her back, rubbing her fur against the grain. "Hey... that thing you said about your pee."

Kahnso huffed. It was a sound which vaguely suggested she was regretting her decision. As for which one, only she knew. "What about it?"

"Well, I mean," the red panda rubbed her sides in loping, symmetrical strokes, "the difference between your pee and my blood is I wouldn't drink blood."

She snorted and snickered, surprised into laughter. Her tail flicked against his chest but he ignored its fluff. "Would you, now. What, you don't believe women need love every day of the month?"

"Not from my tongue, no," Lars flatly said, hips bumping her ass. He thought again how soft she was, like her fine white ass was a novelty heart-shaped pillow he could pass out against. "Hey, you know, you eat ass like a pro. You do that often?"

"Fuck me already, you hobo fuck. I'll buy you a cheeseburger if you manage to jizz inside of me. Not too dehydrated for that, are you?"

Lars gyrated, and not very skilfully, but the effort was there and the fucking was sincere. The fact that he was fucking a multimillionaire celebrity in her asshole and it wasn't in any way a rape sweetened the deal. Her attitude only made it better. "Hey, make it a Happy Meal and I'll suck it back out of you."

"Gross," Kahnso pouted, pushing herself up with her toes. She met Lars at the zenith of his grind and almost knocked him over; he fell against her back and she felt his hot breath in her hair. "Buy you steak dinners for a month if you quit saying so much nasty shit..."

The panda straightened up and dropped a knee onto the bed. He made a point to mash his bony hips into her thick ass, savoring not only that tight and probably-bleached anus of hers but the warmth and general softness of her body. She was more comfortable to rest on than any of the furniture in his apartment. "Sure," he chuckled. "You want me to tell you how pretty you are? Hey, throw in some baked potatoes and I'll say I love you."

"You don't need eyeballs to enjoy a steak. Remember that, smartass," she dangerously hissed. The smirk vanished from the panda's face and he wisely chose not to poke this bear any further.

Instead Lars huffed and panted, feeling winded from fucking her. It was some of the most strenuous activity he'd performed in weeks; drug running surprisingly consisted of very little actual running. He did, however, ride the bus a lot and occasionally had to yell at the homeless and pass disconcertingly large bankrolls to police officers.

"You're a real babe," he said quietly. "Hottest chick I've ever bagged, bar none."

"I'd be pissed if I weren't." She twisted her head, working out a cramp in her neck. "Hurry up and pop your nut already... I want some of that nose candy."

Lars put up both knees on the bed now. He put some good old physics to work now, pounding down with his hips so hard that the burly vixen went down with him. The spongy bed pushed her back up, and all he had to do then was keep it up; her own mass did half the work for him. Lars didn't know he was making use of his reviled high school math in bed, but if he had, he would have made a point to go back to school and high-five his teacher for instilling in him such practical concepts.

Beneath him, Kahnso shuddered and moaned enticingly. Her tune had changed entirely from the frosty, domineering bitch to a panting and needful whore. Lars liked the change, at least for the moment. He chanced some kisses on her neck, nosing through her voluminous blonde hair to get to fur and flesh. She crooned responsively. "Yeah, fuck me, boy," she spoke with a hiss. "Fu-u-uck my ass..."

"I'm workin' on it," the red panda huffed. The directive spurred him and he pushed down as hard as he could with his hips, exercising himself in a way his underfed body did not care for. He could feel his muscles giving up, his stomach crowding into an empty, small fist in his belly. But his balls were tight, his cock was aching, and like a high, the promise of an orgasm overrode his hunger. He bit her neck where it met the shoulder and made Kahnso shriek. He kept his pointed panda teeth in her flesh.

"Christ, you got some fucking nerve!" Kahnso snarled, but her body was shaking under his. Her cunt was wet. "I should rip your fucking teeth out with pliers...!"

Just as long as you chew all those steaks for me, thought Lars, intrepidly pounding the rock-singing cunt in her swollen and reddened asshole. He still couldn't get over how pillowy she was.

Lars' teeth sank deeper, but he had a good reason for the love bite: his orgasm. He shuddered and shook like a truck trying to start on a hill. He collapsed on top of her, no longer feeling the requisite energy to keep his hips moving. Buried in Kahnso's million-dollar bottom, he erupted with two fat ropes of semen and a trailing, watery mess of bitter scent and flavor. The taste of blood in his mouth brought back memories of arguments with the old man and barroom brawls, and he ignominiously unlocked his jaws from her neck. A few small, red punctures dotted her skin and dyed the surrounding fur maroon. She either didn't notice she was bleeding, or didn't care.

Kahnso shook him off almost as quickly as she'd called him on. "Get offa me, you homeless fucker. Get your greasy cock out of me."

The panda didn't feel rejected. He'd busted his nut and that made him pretty happy. He exited her cautiously and didn't bother with a warning about his spunk now leaking from her. She seemed like the kind of woman to expect it.

As if waiting on a physical, Lars just stood idly by while Kahnso straightened up and rolled onto her side. His semen leaked down the curve of her ass cheek and soaked into the bed. "There's a mirror on the coffee table. Bring me that. And the blow."

Lars did what he was told, bringing her the coke and the mirror while his flaccid dick leaked the last of its watery mess all over the rug. He took a look at her other paraphernalia and grabbed the razor while he was there.

With admirable steadiness, Kahnso cut a few lines on the mirror. She glanced at Lars before and after her first toot, didn't look at him again after her second. With the high just kicking in, Kahnso wiped a dribble of blood from her right nostril and left the mirror, and the three other immaculate lines waiting on it, on the bed.

Grabbing the suite's phone, she said offhand, "You all right with lobster or you want something a little, uh, poorer?"

The panda wasn't sure what he felt exactly. He guessed it was gratitude. "I've never had it."

"Well, you'll like it." She wiped at her bloody nose again. "Have some," she urged, pointing at the powder.

Lars enjoyed a toot for each nostril. He laid back on the bed, arms splayed and sweaty armpits bared as the coke took hold. He closed his eyes and listened to the beat of his heart growing faster and harder, like a war drum. It seemed to him he could hear blood rushing through his brain, pounding behind his eyeballs, and everything felt just great to him.

"...yeah, for two. And send up some wine, whatever's good. Put it on the tab."

With dinner ordered, Kahnso crawled into bed with Lars and surprised him when she cuddled him. She nibbled his neck and he half-expected her to sink those huge saber teeth into him as revenge for the now-clotted pricks on her neck and shoulder. She didn't.

"So, hey," she asked quietly. "You looking for steady work, with benefits?"