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Life of Sam

episode 1 "Pilot"

For the mood: "Frank Sinatra -That's Life"

I did it.

I am free.

I am on a run.

Run for the life dream and leaving this bullshit behind me.

And yet...

The question I will ask myself for the rest of my life still remains.

Will it be worth it?

Or will I fall down and end up being a total fucking loser?

... Maybe I will end up being like a loser. It's likely.

But guess what?

At least there was time for the literal "fucking" stamp first.

Go with the flow baby. Never hold back

My Name Is Sam Riggs.

I am a twenty-five-year-old panther.

Now, let me tell something a little bit more interesting about mys-

"Attention. The flight four zero seven, Familia Airlines, would like to announce about probable turbulence due to the stormy weather conditions within an hour on a route to our destination. The air pockets will be mild, so need for the worry. Meanwhile, our catering will serve-"

Fucking hell. Man can't even present his egoistic self-introduction to the unexisting audience without being interrupted by some thot announcer that sounds like she just woke up from a coma and was ready to put herself back to it. Okay, maybe that was rather rude. Wait, it's just my thoughts. No one can hear. Except me. You.

It kinda echoes in here.

EYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!

Anyway, the focus is good. Back to it. Sorry, the stress is overbearing. To be honest, right now I am so excited that I could die. Literally holding the explosion ticking in myself. Escape the reality of what the fuck you are doing right now and try to relax.

Whoow.

Okay.

As I was saying, my name is Sam Riggs. I am a young, dumb and irresponsible individual.

Ah, so self-conscious. Love it, keep it up. Honesty is good.

I am right now on an escape flight of sorts. Escape from responsibility my parents would say, but the fact that I am on this seat means I have a clear opinion against theirs.

Fuck. Them.

I was never meant to be controlled. Never meant for their borders, trying to box me into tunnel vision for doing something I obviously had no calling for.

Med school. What a joke. College? Nah.

Studying is for squares. Yes, yes. Cringy takes is cringy. But self-honesty is good, I keep telling myself that so much that it makes me... Well, me.

Sorry mom and dad, but no more school for me. No more boring dinners, no more pressuring about me getting married, no more prying for the privacy and using your own keys to raid my bong stashes from the closet. Like god damn, it's my apartment. I am not ten anymore. If I'd change the locks, they would probably break the windows in just to scream about me getting my life together and studying more.

It did happen.

Seven times.

How in the hell am I supposed to control my pressure for constant studying without burning some up first? Or jerking off to porn almost daily? Or instead of books I'm either banging the mailman's daughter, Janice... The father found out and started sending me letters full of pictures about him being a black belt in karate class. Trying to give a hint to stay away from her dear corgi daughter. But it only worsened the situation.

Because that fucking bulge in every picture caught my attention fully and gave me evil thoughts. He ended up getting a restraining order by the police over me trying to get in those pants. I guess he had somewhat of an ethical defense over the fact that I tried to sign to the karate classes and do nothing but flirt with him in front of others. Didn't take kindly to me almost getting off just from being beaten by him on the mat. The moment he pinned me down I got hard against him.

I got kicked out of the class after three training days. I was so close to warming him up to me, I tell you. I wanted to see what was in those pants. Never got to.

Still kept fucking his daughter though.

I think her dad still sees nightmares about me. Because he never told her.

And then there was my god damn car.

The piece of shit needed constant fixing. And my usual stop would be by the Monroe at tail avenue, right next to that donut place that looked like it crawled out of the seventies.

Royce was a hell of a car mechanic. Buff and gentle bull. If only he would have spent as much time on taking care of the car instead of ruining my ass in the coffee break room, I would have not missed so many classes. Royce only had love for three things. Fucking a guy's ass, listening to dubstep, and playing illegal poker. Possible fourth would have to be cars.

But not my car. He hated that thing more than I did.

Once again, I sidetracked.

But yes, to know about me simply.

I am a bisexual and I am also a sex addict. Not the covering one. The covering was the last thing in my mind.

The next pussy or dick was the first.

Instead of putting those two together plus and plus, I get this kind of math instead in my days. Small dosage of this for the patient. Small dosage of that for her him whoever. DNA this, blood test that. One pill there, one syringe here.

Where is my dosage of freedom of choice?

I even hate the smell of hospitals. I even hate the smell of old people. I even hate the fucking atmosphere. It's like covering the vibe of awaited death with chlorine and ajax. But it's all a lie. Like you can read it.

It's like shit stuffed into an apple-pie.

That had to be weirdest sounding thought of this week.

Bloody hell.

But now... Anyway.

For the first time in my life... I feel like I am actually breathing.

What is the point of growing up in a rich family where both parents are doctors if you can't even fucking live like a rich person? I had to bust my ass off to even get that small apartment for myself. My dad drives a bunnylac. He could have bought me one anytime he wanted. But noooo, my rustbucket Foxford gives only mental breakdowns. And it took me a horrible summer job to get that. Everything was fine when I could still live in the big house with them. We had a pool. A fucking pool! Guess what I had? The shower that keeps shooting some brown shit, because the water filtration system is flipped as much as the manager of the fucking building. The government gives him the money to hire mechanics in order to fix things. We never saw any damn workers around there. That landlord otter looked like he spent the water filtration check plus his life savings on Pawaii shirts and acid due to midlife crisis and ended on some spiral mantra that never ended. We once got stuck in the elevator and he just smiled on the corner looking at me and said that by" listening to Queen three times a day", I will resurrect Freddie. Fucking hippie. What the fuck does that even mean?

Oh, and the town around me? Boring as shit. The people around me? Barely tolerable. Some more than others. I'm gon miss Janice, Royce, and Baxter. At least they believed in my dream. I'll keep on texting them. It is what it is. They will understand.

My parents won't. They think that right at this moment, I am at the university. Bending to their will and working like a clock on the wall, drifting away.

But I am not. I am in control now. Absolute control baby.

You see, I was on the highest misogyny levels of fuckery in order to succeed in my long-planned dream to become true today.

And by translation to English, I mean that I stole money. A lot of money. My parents made sure that even if I was born into a rich family, I had to earn myself without support and make my own dreams come true. I might have side roaded, but let's just say that I went through a different route to get there.

My named friend, Baxter, was a hacker cracker. A Labrador fella. Shy as hell and funny as fuck. The best kind. Was a mountain sloping champ. Gave him hips a guy can't forget. Sucked my dick like he was born to do it. Dedicated to both blowjobs and hacking computers. Might even be freaking blacklisted at this point by some fur Illuminati for all I know... Well, let's just say that with a little magic and long-winded dedication and work, we managed to do something really, really bad.

No not the dirty sex kind.

But the money stealing kind.

We managed to scam the funds out of my university funds and steal one hundred thousand dollars out of their system bank accounts. There will be an outrage. But it won't be tracked to me. Baxter managed to be almost a ghost. So, we split the thing, fifty-fifty. I talked him into it. He hated the idea first. But I wouldn't have judged him if he said no., I guess the idea of getting a bigger apartment at this age was tempting, would we succeed. And we indeed did. He has to lay low for a while and hide his share. Me? I had to escape.

And I only knew one destination to go.

Remby-tail Islands.

Fuck.

Yes.

Tropical paradise in the middle of the great ocean, around twelve-hour flight away from home town.

A fresh new start.

A place I wanted to move in ever since I saw the commercials. And I am NOT talking about the commercials that play on the telly.

The ones that play at the ads of my paw hub before every video. The ones that you end up staring at, wondering if it's true. Instead of those porn game commercials that give you disturbing vibes.

No.

Remby-tail islands are known and famous only for three things.

One. Among the most beautiful beaches in the world, the place is a tropical paradise with only one big city on the east side of the main island. Glass skyscrapers and bungalows. Like tourism puke. Surrounded by a fuckton of jungle, mountains, caves, and waterfalls. And as one could expect... VERY expensive housing.

Second. The lowest crime and violence rate in the world as I know it. Not that many places are even that bad. Haven't been for the last two hundred years. But Remby Islands was known for its peaceful and harmonizing vibe and beach culture.

Third one. The last one. The most important one.

The one that counts.

And the reason why I am here.

Drumroll?

Ta-da.

Porn.

This fucking place is the mecca of the porn industry. The most famous and best quality porn is filmed in this very place. The sexual energy in this place is off the damn hook. And in my case, that is like you would offer candy to the chubby kid in class. That is me in this case, believe it. And I'm not gonna say no.

I was born for this.

I...

I am going to be a pornstar.

Yeah? Sounds funny?

Because it is. My dream ever since witnessing porn from the internet and getting laid for the first time, was to never make it stop.

My sex addiction is something I don't even want to control.

I have to literally cum each day.

And on top of that, I am rather blessed downstairs.

That means I have a big dick in case yall didn't catch the drift.

It's not like overly big but... It is my skill that gets me to the industry.

I was born to do this.

Young cat with around fifty-two thousand in cash, ready to start from scratch...

And get to the fucking top.

They will write that my road to conquer started today.

And I will do anything to get to the big screen, and show my parents and my town that I was made for something that I chose myself. Not to be a doctor.

To be a literal fucking winner.

I don't care how many dicks I have to suck. I don't care how many pussies I have to smash. I don't care how much-

I'm hyping yall up, aren't I?

That's because I put my ambition into words...

And I'm only on my first day.

So get ready....

Because the islands don't even know what is coming to them.

I'm gonna cum all over their doorstep like a nasty fly fuck that I am-

"SIR!!!"

It was like being pulled out of the most hyped up and beautiful daydream. I had practically been squeezing the armrests of my plane chair to scratches out of the intensity of myself hyping. And right now as I am back to reality, the first thing my eyes lock on to is the pair of fine-looking cheetah tits tucked into a neat little blue unifor-"

"SIR?! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?"

"Huh?"

"I asked if you are all right? I have been asking you if you would like a drink for the last half a minute. Other passengers would like their turn as well, so if you wouldn't mind wasting my time and telling if you take anything or not."

The panther ended up slowly guiding his eyes from the pair of breasts to the cheetah girls' eyes, the hostile tone clearly making sure that she knew exactly what the panther was staring at.

Sam slowly started to bring a wider smile on his face, the alluring eyelids lowering already ruining the girl's day.

"Well, I'll be damned. Pardon terribly for me not responding. Jet lag, you know. Happens to everyone."

The cheetah girl sighed tiredly and rolled her eyes, talking back with a monotonic tone.

"Apology accepted, sir. Now, would you like to try out our stronger drinks or just have a beer?"

"...NNN, iiii don't know, my tastes can be very selective... Girl, what is your name?" Sam asked smoothly, getting more comfortable on his seat and looking at the Stuart like a piece of candy.

"It's literally on my name tag." The girl asked with the most unimpressed expression ever.

The panther tried not to break up his smooth act, just slowly letting his eyes travel back on the breast area, taking full three seconds before reading the actual name tag, fighting the urge not to get hard.

"... Sarah. What a lovely name."

"Thanks. Now can you get on with your order, mister?" The cheetah asked, visibly getting a headache.

Sam just gave a small whistle, looking around himself quickly to make sure not a lot of people would be listening. He shifted on his seat, whispering to the girl after biting his underlip slightly.

"Look... You and me. We both share the same equal... Krhm... Positive energy. Can you feel it, Sarah?"

"... Positive energy." She repeated annoyedly.

"Yeeeeah. I like that word. I swear that I've seen many Sarah's in my lifetime. But you... Are something special. I can see it just by looking at you. Would you like to know my name?"

"No. But you are going to tell it anyway, I assume."

"It's Sam. Sam Riggs."

"Cool. Mister Riggs, can you choose your drink within this century, I have a job to do. Or would you like to be without a drink? Not many people in first-class say no to a free drink."

"Oh, baby. I bet you get stalling by more men than just me."

"Not really."

"Aaah, well... Okay, I will skip the cryptic messages and my slick speech and get right to my offer."

"It better be about the drink."

"... Well, I am certainly thirsty." The panther winked.

"... I hate this job."

"I can make you hate it less. Babe... I will suggest... That if you would like, we could both play agents for a moment. Our destination is that bathroom on the left. How about you just follow my lead and take a break for a moment, and I'll promise, I will eat your pussy like it was meant to happen. "

"..."

Sam kept on with his alluring expression, innocently waiting for the answer to the dirty suggestion. The girl looked at him with a disappointed face, starting to suddenly go through stuff on her catering cart. Sam interestedly followed with his gaze as the girl leaned down, fetching out a small plastic cup. She started to uncork a bottle of tail Irish and pour into the cup steadily.

"... Well, now that you mention... A free drink is always a free drink. Nice idea for you to get me into the mood." Sam chuckled innocently.

"Keep talking." The girl whispered calmly as she kept pouring.

"Now, darling. I think I can drink it straight away, so no need for ice. I like it neat and-"

SPLASH

The liquid alcohol from the cup splashed right against Sam's face, jumscaring him slightly as his lowered eyelids became very open.

The girl started to pour more into the cup, like nothing had just happened.

The panther started to wipe down his face from the alcohol, having messed his plain white-collar shirt now completely.

"What the fuck, yo?!" Sam asked in total confusion.

The girl didn't answer, now lifting the cup in her hand again and making Sam flinch, moving his hands in front of him in order not to get splashed again.

Instead, the girl calmly downed the full cup herself on the spot, Sam watching with hanging jaw as the girl swallowed it all and laid the cup back down, turning to look at Sam slowly after.

The girl now smiled slightly with a self-satisfied side smirk, answering quietly.

"I hope you enjoyed your free drink, mister Riggs. I know I did."

"Girl, are you fucking serious? You just... b-but you are from Remby tail islands-"

"Just for your information for future behavior-wise, I'll give you a little tip. Just because a girl is from an island of glamorized sex culture doesn't mean she is a slut. I am a virgin, you fucking asshole. The next drink round comes within three hours. I suggest you wouldn't talk to me at all when it's time for that unless you really want an actual drink. Have a pleasant rest of the flight." the girl said, her smile slowly shifting back to work mode expression as she pointed at the shirt of the panther.

"You have some spots over there."

Before Sam could even comment back, the cheetah had already continued to the next two rows of attendants.

Sam was still slightly in the small edge of realizing what had just happened, starting to mutter annoyedly as he reached for napkins on the armrest holder.

"Fucking bitch... This shirt was brand new..."

Suddenly, someone else spoke right

"Nicely done, lad. Very classy approach I assume."

"Whatever Banks. She was a fucking nutcase." Sam huffed, scooting over from taking both seats and getting next to the window, annoyedly wiping off the liquor on his face.

This classy big wombat fella sitting right next to me after probably taking the longest bathroom journey in the world just now... Is Mister George Banks.

Let me tell you something about banks. He and I... We go waaaay back.

George Banks was a very important man to me. He has been around and caretaking me for as long as I know. We have never fucked. Not that I don't mind older men, but George was always like a big brother that looked after me. He was ninety years old, smart as hell, calm and overly civil by nature and also a straight as an arrow. The normal lifespan of a mammal was tow hundred commonly, so he was reaching the middle age already. He didn't either drink alcohol or smoke weed. He didn't club or house party.

No. His own goals were to start a family one day, get at least five kids, and own a library or some shit like that. He loved watching Space trails tv show that told about space cowboys, and he was also a fan of golf. Very neat and prideful man. But also boring as hell most of the time. Kind soul, still. Always having advice on everything. Talked civil and wore nothing but neat and expensive suits.

So, how did I end up getting acquainted with this civil wombat, you might ask?

He is my lawyer. He WAS our family lawyer. Until I talked him into accompanying me to Remby islands to watch after my investments and get me off to a good start. He knew his way around finances and could spare my time by getting a nice housing deal for me. But what George was not aware of... Was the money.

He knew exactly that my dad or mom would never loan me fifty g's. So, I had to come up with some bullshit and make it believable. I told that I took an immersive student loan in order to transfer my studying to the college of Remby islands. I showed him the fake copy on my phone and everything. He believed me without even asking the parents since I begged him not to, for the sake of my father possibly flipping over such a "loan". I told the money would be strictly for my education... And George believed me.

More or less.

So, getting him on my journey was not a hard task. He wanted to be there to make sure I don't do anything irrational. Ready to give me a ride with a rental car from somewhere around the places I needed to go to get my things in order.

First stop?

The Remby college campus.

Oh, George. He will be hella disappointed and angry when we get on the land. My stop is not on campus. My stop is the nearest rental apartments, and a possible party night at a club or something.

George will most likely insist me to take a flight right back with him the moment I tell why I actually just landed on Remby. That I was here on a spiritual and ambitious mission towards getting laid all day and up in big films.

Nothing personal, George. But I will give you only two options the moment we land. Either you stay here and support me like you always have... Or you go back to mom and dad.

Either way... I am here to stay.

"Be a jolly good fella and tell me what on earth did you say to that lovely young lady to make him act in such a way?" The wombat asked politely despite sounding disappointed, having seen enough of Sam's sexual innuendos for one lifetime.

The panther had managed to squeeze himself enough to the side to give the wombat the room he needed.

George was dressed in a neat and grey overall suit with a dark blue tie, reaching for his eyeglasses from his pocket.

"Nothing happened, maaaan, look at my fucking shirt. It's messed up." The panther cursed, just making the stains spread on his shirt with the napkin.

"She must have had her reasons to mess it, Mister Sam." The wombat hummed, huffing against his glasses and cleaning them by rubbing the lenses against his sleeve.

"And I had a thousand reasons to gamble with it. She must have been the finest cheetah I have ever seen." Sam muttered with frustration.

"Ah, well then, what did you say to her?" the wombat chuckled.

"I told her I wanted to eat her out," Sam said out like it was nothing.

The wombat turned to give an eyeroll and a chuckle, already guessing this was one of the possibilities.

"Well, there you have it. Ain't no possible chance a lady would appreciate such a rude gesture, eh?" The wombat asked knowingly lowering his eye classes in question.

"Rude? How is trying to give someone an orgasm to ease the day, rude? So, you have never asked from the girl permission to eat her out?" The panther snickered, starting to dig more napkins form his seat.

"AH, ya silly lad. Of course, I've had. But not to a total bloody stranger doing her job. These girls having a hard time as it is on this job." George said calmly.

"Listen, you are too old to give advice to me on flirting, George. You should be rather acting in a cat bond movie as a villain who made a baby with butler or something-" The panther began, poking his tongue out with a smirk.

"It's like almost someone's yapping at me eh-" The wombat chuckled, reading something off the screen of his smartphone.

"-With your nasty ass grey suit, mister wine and dine motherfucker-" Sam continued.

The wombat then nodded his head from side to side.

"Eh, tone it down. Just because I am your lawyer doesn't mean that I can't give you a little handling, lad. It's hard to walk on campus with eh broken leg."

Sam was not scared at the slightest, knowing that George was kidding around. George could not hurt a fly. He was the calmest person that the panther knew.

"Whatever, Georgie borgie. Listen, if you do right by me with these apartment deals, I'll buy two more of those silly suits." The panther suggested.

"My lad, these are bloody two thousand a piece, are ye taking a piss?" The wombat asked amusedly.

"I'll get three."

The wombat looked intrigued at first but then just chuckled and spoke with a snap of fingers.

"As your lawyer, I highly advise against spending your student loans on such gifts of appreciation."

"Understood. Ey, this your first time in tropic?" Sam asking but not really caring.

"Well, I'd say it is, indeed. Hope the level of education here is good. I didn't have a chance to zoogle the bloody place. And ain't no furnet working on air." The wombat muttered.

"Maybe that's for the better. But hey, I'm sure the level of... Some sort of learning experience is high." Sam muttered, trying to contain his excitement on knowing that the plane would be inland within four hours.

"Did that lass you talked earlier offer tea as well, by any possible chance?" The wombat asked, smacking his mouth and putting the phone back to his pocket.

"No."

"Well, bollocks. Maybe it had something to do with ya ridiculous offer, eh?" Wombat accused with a smile.

"Maaan, I don't pay you for complaining in my ear," Sam said back annoyedly and trashed the dirty napkins down on the trashcan.

"Well, you are paying for good advice. That is what I am here to do. Trust me, try to keep ya horny self in control, mister Sam. Soon you adapt to college life and you have plenty of time on your young and drunk endeavors. Males and lasses for you to hassle with." The wombat pointed out.

"Damn right. And no parents to judge me at every turn."

"Mister Sam, being on your line of work is honorable, your folks just want to be proud of ya, don't want to let down, eh? Maybe the distance was a good choice, giving you more focus on ya studies without pressure, eh?"

"I like that, you gassing me up. I'll study hard, oh I will."

"Well, that's a rather good attitude to hear. Now the only thing left to fix in you is the common manners."

"Casino valet looking mothafucka-"

"Alright, that's quite enough of ya lad." The wombat chuckled.

"Caviar and shrimp stuffed in my pockets after an opera diner and claiming he cooked it at home pretending ass-"

"With your current state of an outfit, I wouldn't be yapping and tapping, Mister Sam." Wombat said with a sly smile, lowering his eyeglasses as he hinted the panther not to push it.

"Fair point, you win." Sam snorted out.

"Well, it was hardly a match. I really do have a strong sudden need for violet leaf tea and maybe a few crackers. If you excuse me for a moment, Mister Sam. Am I allowed to fetch myself information of such possible beverages?" The wombat asked warmly.

"Yes, and hey, get me a pack of peanuts while ya at it." The panther said, poking his tongue out.

"Piss off lad." The wombat said casually, raising up from his seat.

"What? WHAT?" The panther shrugged, wondering what he had said wrong.

"You have had enough nuts for one lifetime, eh." The wombat said snarky, grinning slightly.

"You should try having a bit more of those well!" The panther shot back over his shoulder as the wombat was walking away.

"Oh, to be young and dumb again like you." The wombat chuckled.

"AND HANDSOME!" The panther added, everyone around him now paying attention to the sudden yelling with distasteful expressions.

The panther cooled it down as he saw the wombat shaking his head in slight embarrassment, disappearing in the catering area.

Yeah. This was going just fine. Only a few more hours and I'm right there. Right now,... I'm trying to suppress this shaky feeling and not puke or something. It's crazy that George is not still suspecting anything at the moment. Or maybe he is. Not sure.

All I can right now dream about... Is this paradise on earth that I am headed. I was created for a warm environment. I was created to blow up and become famous. I have it in me.

Always did. Only one believing my dream were the friends in the small town.

As I am looking at this blue, shining sea under my eyes... I want to think.

I need to believe...

That I made the right choice.

And not just another fuck up.

I felt trapped... Maybe today I will finally feel free.

I am sexy, young, and charismatic as fuck...

How can I lose?

Shit. I need to go and change this shirt. It's messed. That girl...

I appreciate the attitude but I really liked this shirt. I hope it washes off. But I don't think I have a chance to use the washing machine anytime soon. Fuck. And her a virgin? What a bunch of-

I guess I'ma go with my blue and white pawaii shirt.

I really should have taken that drink. But I really wanted to unload. I guess I could use quick self stress relief while I change my shirt.

A MINUTE LATER

The panther squeezed into the tight spaced bathroom, laying the fresh shirt down on the tiny sink.

The fuming and somewhat ear annoying sounds of the plane kept humming on the background as the panther kept on his smile, whistling and looking at the mirror reflection of himself.

Sam just ended up staring himself for a while. The dark brown eyes stared right back, the fancy tuft of black fur on top of his head making small waves of a cut. The golden earring on his left ear kept shining slightly more due to the yellow ceiling light.

But slowly, the smile on the panther's face started to lower. Almost like a small realization starting to hit in, second by second.

"... Whooh... Shit, okay... just..." The panther started to mumble, running his paw from up and down his face with a rub, giving light smack on his right cheek and kept shaking his hands after.

"Hoookay... Hokay. You gonna be fine. All fine. Everything is fine."

The nervousness started to kick in. The reality. My parents are going to explode. But shouldn't you find some comfort in that? They treat you like shit. Or at least to some extent. I know they care. But this will cause something between us, that I don't know to be possible to repair. Hell, they might even take the next flight here and try to drag me away. You didn't really think this through.

If... If I can... Somehow persuade George to go with this plan and make up something for my parents... Would he do it?

He is like my kin. Would bribing help? No, George would not take that. What can I do? Shit...

Sam leaned down slightly, opening the water tab and cupping his paws under, scooping the nice amount of cold water in them. He splashed the water against his face, feeling the nice and cool embrace from it and having a quiet moment, staring at the mirror while the water drops were falling down his whiskers and his jawline. The whiskey stared to wash itself off from his fur. The feeling was relieving.

Just... Try to cope with what you are doing and trust the plan. You deal with possible consequences later. The main plan is to rent a car. Get a nice and cheap apartment for rent as well. Lay low. Get to know people. Start slow.

You got this. None of those things are a problem for you.

Breathe.

Smile, man. Come on.

The panther started to slowly smile by himself, bringing his fingers towards his collar.

He slowly started to unbutton the whiskey stained shirt.

Do the goofy thing you always do when you are alone. Come on, I know you want to.

Sam started to smile goofily as he tried to get the alluring look on while watching the mirror, pretending he was stripping his clothes off for someone.

The lowered eyelids came into motion shortly with a sly smile, the panther starting to unbutton his sleeved polo slowly.

"Wanna see what's under huh..."

Soon, he started to lower his shoulders, letting the whole shirt fall on to the floor, letting the mirror bask in revelation.

Sam Riggs was by no means in bad shape. One of the reasons he didn't have time for studying all the time, was due to his gym obsession. Besides the eye candy that the gym could offer, he wanted to push towards his once maybe possible pornstar career by getting into shape. Within two years, there had been results. Cutting down from unhealthy food was the hardest part. But with dedication, he got past mawdonalds crap.

He had no sixpack, but his whole stomach and chest was nicely muscled enough to draw attention. He had wide shoulders, and beautifully smooth black fur all over. His arms were not very huge, having mostly focused on his overall physique to look better in-camera. But he could lift around his own weight on the bench. That was all that was needed.

The panther ran his paw across his chest slowly, looking at the results of his dedication and stressed nights. Damn.

I guess I should get on with that new shirt... Or.

He gave a small underlip bite by himself as he started to undo the belt of his black jeans.

The long cat tail danced behind him excitedly from side to side as the panther was finished with his belt, starting to bring his fingers on the buttons of his front.

"Let me get these off good looking..." The panther muttered, flirting with an invisible figure with the attitude.

The moment he was bringing his jeans down slowly, the heavy tuft of black fur freed itself. He had not trimmed the fur of his private idea in a while. It was like a damn raggy bush. The masculine scent of warm and slightly sweaty fur released itself. Should have probably changed my underwear before leaving... But I like being slightly dirty down there from time to time.

The panther started to bite his lower lip once again with a smirk as he scooted down his jeans, the fully visible bulge now openly seen. The white boxers gave credit to what he was possessing, as the color always tended to.

"Damn... Looking heavy today..." The panther said proudly, cupping the bulge in his paw and giving it a nice squeeze. The heavy warmth radiated out of the heavy bulge, making the panther huff by himself as he brought the left paw on the edge of the fabric.

"Yall want to see what's under, I know..." The panther exhaled, getting into the mood slowly in the crumby toilet stall.

Sam didn't take a long time to give his downstairs the release for the cool air it needed.

He pulled down his underwear, flopping it all out to be bare exposed.

(reference pic for better mental picture)

The flaccid member of his was finally breathing, the manly musk releasing itself.

Sam soaked in the sight, feeling confident while marveling it through the mirror.

The floppy, uncut member was bare, looking very photogenic. It had two very visible veins traveling on it till halfway of the member, one on the right side and one on the top, near the root. When flaccid, his member was around twelve to thirteen centimeters long. So, above average, which was around eight to eleven. Once he would be erect, he could get it to pretty much till sixteen centimeters, which would always result in his foreskin pulling all the way back. When flaccid, half of his tip would always be showing.

So, the erect length was also slightly above average. He always wanted more girth, as he never was very blessed in that area. But still, his member was unique. His girth was around nine centimeters when flaccid and eleven when rock hard.

Nevertheless, it was still a beautiful piece of meat.

He had a rather heavy balls under his member, left bell hanging slightly lower than the right one. The fur was rather heavy around his male prides as well, in a need of possible trim.

Around the strong back of the panther, the view is going down.

The firm, muscly and toned ass was bare, the tail dancing freely now. The panther pleasingly ran his both paws around his fluffy butt cheeks, feeling himself a little bit, giving them a small smack and wiggling his hips from side to side. He slowly spread his butt a bit, letting go of it and whispering.

"Ff... If only I had someone's fat dick to bounce on right now."

The panther shook his head after saying that aloud, staring to take the clean shirt from the sink now and dressing it on, looking at himself through the mirror again as he was spreading his arms to guide the paws through the sleeves.

"Oh... Why did I have to think about cocks?"

The panther had gotten excited from the butt touch, relaxing his arms and cupping his heavy and hanging balls in his paw again and speaking as he saw his member slowly getting hard.

"Damn, really need a release..." Sam muttered with a horny tone.

He had completely forgotten his daily stress relief... And this was the best of that kind.

I guess I'ma do this quick... Have to check the porn on my phone... I wonder if there is still that video somewhere there which has Janice giving me that boobjob and making me cum all over that pretty face.

Fuck.

I need to jerk off. I can't take it anymore.

3 HOURS LATER

"Hmmmh... No... Don't... No mayonnaise in my cereal..." Sam muttered.

"Oh, for the love of- Mister Sam. You are bloody drooling on your shirt." The wombat scolded, starting to slightly shake the sleeping panther's shoulder.

It had been three hours since Sam's stress reliving toilet visit.

His new and clean shirt was getting now a whole different kind of mess. This time it wasn't liquor.

"MR SAM." George coughed hintingly.

"Ehmahdamsd... Who?" The panther stuttered in confusion.

"Take this napkin will ya and get yourself sorted out, mate." The wombat chuckled.

"Yehyeh... Shit... Only one hour?" The panther asked again, wondering if he had heard right.

He had not even remembered falling asleep.

The fap session really had done its trick on relaxing him down.

But the moment he got back to the land of the living, the stress started to slowly get back into his system.

Just calm down man. Don't start getting second thoughts.

"If you don't mind me practicing my frustration mister Sam, it's a bloody miracle if they would even have tea on this plane. No luck on me I tell ya. No yellow tea or nothing." The wombat spoke in frustration.

"You could have always ordered alcohol for a chance. Might make you feel cool at least once in your life." Sam muttered.

"And bloody drive you somewhere after that? Taking a piss again, mister Sam. I will never drink and drive in this lifetime." The wombat scolded from even saying the suggestion out loud.

"It's not like you have to drive, I can drive too," Sam muttered back, stretching his back on the seat.

"With all due respect mister Sam, I will not place my life in your hands when you take the wheel." The wombat argued knowingly with chuckle, reading the daily news from his phone.

"It's like I hear someone whining-"

"You drive like it's a grand fur auto for god's sake-"

"George, how do you even know the name of that game?" The panther laughed.

"My niece has been playing it, I've tried some. I can be cool too." The wombat answered with an innocent smile.

"I bet you drove with actual trafficking rules. You are exactly the type. Relics are not playing videogames."

"Well, lad, I'm not a relic yet." The wombat said back, having gone through this same argument a thousand times with the young panther.

"I just heard they discovered your DNA in that Jurassic park movie-"

"Sod off youngling-" The wombat began laughing.

"Created all kinds of crazy shit out of your genes-"

"As your lawyer, I recommend you to keep yourself in good health, like them bloody dinosaurs, I might bite." The wombat reminded, clicking his tongue and taking his phone out to read news again.

"But aren't you wearing fake teeth-"

The wombat rolled his eyes, chuckling.

"Did you go to school for witty comebacks, mister Sam-"

"Top of my class," Sam said proudly with crossed arms.

The wombat smirked now and began.

"More like bottom, when it comes to negotiating better scores from teachers, eh-"

Sam lost his cool, starting to laugh, always surprised how entertaining the back and forth was with George. The feeling was mutual. It was always in good spirits. Ever since the panther was only ten years old.

"OOOOOOOOOOO, George brought guns today-"

"With age comes the wit, you need to learn youngling." The wombat reminded, giving a tap of finger at the side of his head hintingly.

"But no wife apparently."

"Now ain't that a rather low blow mister Sam, I feel hurt." The wombat said but his voice absent of being hurt, just grinning.

"But come on now. This perfect female you are trying to find... You have been on a search for what, forty years now?" Sam argued.

"I have all the time in the world, lad. I'm not even on my hundreds. She is somewhere there and I know it." The wombat said calmly.

"... But doesn't it frustrate to not have sex before you have found the right one?" Sam asked, truly not understanding how George could hold his urges.

"Not everyone in this world share the needs of yours, mister Sam. With all respect of course. I've had my fair share of fun ever since I was your age. The drive stops with some mammals. Me, I'm just fine with some late night self rubbing if needed. No need for constant partnering." The wombat assured.

The panther rolled his eyes, speaking in thought.

"... George, the lifespan of a fur is two hundred years. You are ninety. Ten years is not that long time to reach middle age. You are saying that within these, what? seventy years of your life you have already had enough sex without commitment and just want to stop and be fine with only jerking off? Is that what you are saying, George?"

The wombat now laid his phone down, realizing that they were having an actual conversation now, as maybe too personal it was for his nature to talk about. but he felt like schooling the boy a bit. He lowered his eyeglasses and looked at Sam and answered.

"Oh, there has been commitment, lad. I have had a romance with a couple of lasses. But I just never met the right one. To me, a good book in the candlelight and some nice lemonade can be a better experience than a bed tangle. Or a good episode of space pirates and listening to opera. Or having a nice warm shower with fleshlight assistance if I happen to have some of my primal urge waking after having a glass of wine."

Sam stared blankly at that wombat, not able to give but one answer.

"... What the fuck. WHY?"

"... Well, it can't be that far-fetched, lad. Some enjoy different things. I guess I was born as more of a calmer soul." The wombat chuckled.

"... Till this day I can't believe that you haven't had sex with the same gender as you." Sam admitted in wonder.

"... Well, it has been so that most are born attracted to both sexes since birth. Love is love. I just never felt the attraction for men, as rare as it is in our world. There are some just like me that don't. I don't think I would enjoy it as much as I would when I'm with a female." The wombat answered with an honest and humble tone.

"How do you know you don't like it if you haven't tried?" Sam asked in confusion.

"Well, maybe I don't know, yeh. The idea just isn't as liberating in my mind as one would assume. I don't fancy anything near my butt, with all due respect. Just isn't my cup of tea. I am just looking for the princess for myself and stick to that." The wombat chuckled.

"I know. I can respect that. Just don't understand." Sam said with a shrug of shoulders.

"Well, sometimes things aren't black and white, mister Sam. We are all unique in our own way. Some more than others." The wombat said, fixing his eyeglasses again and lifting his phone up to continue reading the news.

"No shit, hahaha! Aaaah... I hope this damn plane would already land." The panther drifted away, trying to figure out the continuation to dialogue in order to forget that they would soon be landing on Remby Islands.

"... Oh, bloody hell, mister Sam. Would you hear this?" The wombat suddenly said with a slightly shocked tone.

"Hear what? Did you find the potential princess of yours from pawhub?" Sam said with a grin.

"Sod off, lad. No, I am talking about the news. Can you believe the audacity of this?"

"Shiiit, what has happened?"

"Apparently some darn hooligans had hacked into the medical university funds and stolen bloody hundred thousand out of their deposit." The wombat said angrily.

Sam froze completely, trying not to sweat as he clawed his armrests slowly, muttering as he looked out of the airplane window.

"That's crazy." He said quickly.

"Well ain't that the understatement of the year." The wombat added.

"Well, robberies like that happen all the time."

"Apparently that money was meant for something important." The wombat said as he kept reading.

"Uh huh. Well, it is what it is." Sam muttered awkwardly.

"They were meant to pay for the-"

"Gentlemen."

The voice cut the concentration of both males, the panther recognizing the tone.

There she was. The same cheetah Stuart was gazing down at both of them, trying to avoid eye contact with Sam specifically.

"Oh, how can I be of service, lass?" The wombat asked kindly, putting his phone down and smiling warmly for the attractive and young cheetah.

"... Would you like anything to drink? I heard you were looking for some tea earlier and we didn't have it. But I personally drink tea as well and carry extra with myself on each shift. I am willing to share if you would like, mister." The cheetah explained.

The wombat looked a bit stunned first, breaking up to a wider smile and began hassling as he started to pick his pockets.

"... Oh, I-I am charmed. If that could be possible, I would be more than pleased, lass! I can surely pay for such a kind gesture!"

"No need, sir. These bags are like twenty cents each, asking money from them would be rude. My treat." She smiled.

"Well, color me happy for such a modesty, miss." The wombat said happily.

"No worries. Lovely accent, mister. You from Furdon?" The girl asked as she was pouring the hot water on Georges's cup.

"Well, why yes I am, lass. Cheerio." The wombat said after seeing the girl lay the tea bag into the water.

"My aunt lives there. Owns a donut shop. I visit her from time to time." She said, starting to open the alcohol drawer, ready to take Sam's order.

"Oh, that is lovely to hear. Piece of home then, innit?" George chuckled.

"I'd say so. Does your, uhmm... Son need something? -" The girl said, pointing at Sam's way, the panther not looking at her for some reason. He was just stressingly staring out of the window. The whole plan and doubts were getting to him again. If the robbery was already at the news...

"My? O-oh, this panther right here is not-"

"He is my lawyer," Sam said bluntly.

The girl was quiet for a while, then clearing her throat as she observed Sam.

"... Uuuuh, huh. Cool. Well, would you like something to drink this time, then, mister?"

"... Are you going to splash it across my face again?" Sam asked in frustration, finally looking at her way.

The cheetah looked bored again, crossing her arms as she spoke.

"I doubt since you are in such a charming company. Could learn a thing or two about manners from him."

"I keep telling him all the time, lass." The wombat chuckled.

The panther looked at the girl for a while as she waited for the answer patiently. The frustrated panther then turned to look out of the window again and spoke.

"Ah, the fuck with you both. No, I am not having anything."

"... Okay." The cheetah said, rather surprised.

The wombat now looked at Sam in surprised disappointment over such a harsh answer and spoke.

"What on earth? - Pardon a lot on behalf of my traveling client, miss. He is under a lot of stress. I think he is not thirsty at the moment."

The girl just bit her tongue slightly, looking at Sam still in interest as she closed the alcohol section in her cart.

"... Yeah, I can take a hint. I hope you two have a pleasant rest of the flight."

"I'm sure we will." George nodded, giving a small elbow jab at Sam in revenge for behavior, getting no reaction.

"..."

"You know... Mister Riggs." The cheetah girl suddenly spoke.

"... Huh?" Sam woke up, having fallen in his stressful thoughts again.

Now the cheetah looked slightly awkward, trying not to blush for some reason as she muttered.

"I would advise that next time you use our bathroom stalls, you would clean after yourself. Normally I would have to report such, but I took care of it... Just heads-up for the future."

Sam's eyes widened as he was speechless now, George not understanding.

"... I..."

Before Sam could answer, she just turned away, taking her leave. She started pushing the cart forward, George looking after her in confusion and turning to look at Sam right after.

"... What on earth did the lass mean?"

"... No idea. Don't know. Don't ask." The panther said like he could sink under earth, looking out of the window.

And it took only five seconds for the wombat to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

He buried his face in his paws, whining.

"Mister Sam. I can't believe that you couldn't control your bloody hormones for one flight-"

"ALALALALACAN'THEARYOU-"

After a while of arguing, the silence settled between us.

I just wanted to stay alone in my thoughts for a while.

But what I could not read fully, was the fact that each time the cheetah walked past, she kept looking at my way. Or at least that is what I thought. I was pretty sure of.

Yeah.

Or maybe it was just my imagination. Maybe she kinda liked me after all.

Sigh... Just forty minutes... Forty minutes left until we land...

And then...

It's time to start a new life...

And from a clean table.

This is the story of my journey to stardom. The very first day.

And I call it...

The life of Sam.

The young porn star.

END OF PILOT