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Caffeine and Cuddles: Latte and Oliver #2

More Furry Smut and Strange-Cute Fetishes by 2020 KeenYeen

Oliver did not just hear her breath shaking; He could feel it. He could trace it in his head; The pale, imaginary light that began just beneath her breast and shuddered its way up through her sternum where it poured out over him as so many tiny fingers against his neck and chest. His eyes shot open wide, spine tingling at the vision before his eyes. His fingers squeezed at Latte's hips, which drew further warmth from her parted lips to roll across his body in small clouds. Beautiful spirals of fog, illuminating his view of her as they dissipated around him.

All of this in his mind's eye, and Oliver had found his muse.

From the tips of his toes, up his legs, and over his spine, Oliver felt a surge of something new. An exhilaration, a passion that had never graced him before. Inspiration that made his entire body shiver until the crawling sensation overtook the back of his scalp and centered on his forehead, right between the eyes. Oliver could do nothing except stare at the wondrous beauty that he had witnessed, which made Latte blush.

She had never seen him look at her like that before. "What's going on in there?" she asked herself, looking into his golden eyes. "What are you thinking right now?" For a while Latte permitted this, until she herself could stand it no longer, and whined quietly in frustration and curiosity. "Oliver?" she asked, wishing for an answer immediately.

Oliver's eyes did not steer away from her, and he did not shake off the expression which he had been wearing as he spoke. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever met." he whispered so that, even if there had been ears outside, only she could have heard.

The tired-eyed opossum girl smiled and looked away, her expression changing for the first time in a long time from its typically flat demeanor, into a smile that exposed only the smallest tips of her teeth as she looked away, strands of hair falling into her face.

"I... I'm really not..." she told him, her left hand sliding from his chest to arc upwards towards her cheek where she pushed some of that hair away, "... I'm a rich girl who has fallen for someone my parents hate, and sometimes have to fight what they think of you in my own head." she admitted, "... I know they don't approve of you, but I really don't care... it's just hard to keep their influence out of my thoughts of you." She said, shaking her head. "So I'm really not as beautiful as you think."

Oliver took his hand off of Latte's rear. She snapped her attention upwards and onto him, expecting to find that he was retreating away from her. Expecting the worst. Instead, she felt a hand press against her cheek, cupping her jaw as her crush and friend smiled and shook his head in response to her comment.

"If you don't care what they think and you think it's worth fighting what they think of me... then that's more than I could ever ask for."

Latte's breath caught in her chest. "Where did all this maturity come from?" she asked herself. She took a deep breath and grabbed him in a deep hug, nuzzling into his chest. "Then go out with me!" she insisted, "Let's stop being JUST friends! Go OUT with me!" she insisted, though her tone was flat to any ear...

... except Oliver's.

As her arms wrapped around him and she buried her face into his still-clothed chest, he reacted by throwing his arms wide at first, out of surprise. Then the raccoon relaxed and returned her hug.

"Only if you promise me one thing."

Latte looked up, questioning him with her gaze.

"Never call me Ollie. I don't even like skateboarding."

Latte's eyes went wide. A rare occasion. "What?" she asked herself, "Is he kidding...?"

Sure enough, Oliver was wearing his typical smile. Latte did not know what to say, or even do.

"What am I supposed to DO with that?" she thought, only shaken out of her stupod once a warm, pink tone pressed to her snout, delivered from a sneaky, smiling raccoon. That same raccoon leaned in and whispered softly in her ear. She could feel his breath as if it were permeating her brain as it coiled against her ear. It was warm and wet.

"Go out with me, Latte." he told her firmly, "Let's take on the world together."

His tone surprised her. Made her heart stop for the third time that day. He had never acted like this with her. Never been so confident or insistent.

"Is this because you... got a facefull of boob earlier?" she blurted, stepping back and covering her mouth immediately. "... I'm sorry."

He shook his head and laughed, "Maybe a little... It sure let me know you like me."

Latte frowned and dropped her arms to her side, then punched him in the shoulder. "Where the hell do you get OFF?" she asked, grinning darkly, "Acting like such a DORK... ALL the TIME?" Latte huffed, blushing hotly again, then pulled her tank top over her head and tossed it at him, "... Then you get all SMOOTH? What have you been READING?" she asked, her breasts wobbling freely before him. "I love it... but I also HATE it. You frighten me."

"I'm sorry?" he asked pulling her shirt off his face, where it had landed, "... I can stop."

Latte snatched him by the shirt and wagged a finger in his face, "Don't stop." she insisted, "You surprise me every day... and... and I don't know what to do with it, but you don't ever stop being you."

More surprises as Oliver removed his own shirt and put both his and hers outside on the bench. Latte stared at what he was giving her view of. His body was skinny, from a lack of food. The body of a starving artist. He was stronger than he looked though, and the lines of wiry muscle that stretched across his frame gave her shivers in a good way. He had abs too... which were a big deal. At least to her. She could see his hip bones. The slope of his back. She reached out.

Oliver felt her hand press against his belly. He recoiled a little, and blushed, "S-sorry. Not used to it." he explained, "... I'm not used to touch."

Latte felt... oddly sorry for him. Then she smiled, and that smile widened into a wanting grin. "Better get used to it then." she told him.

He took her hand and pulled it back to where it had been before his body had naturally retreated. "Here." he insisted, and had her palm press against his middle, then watched as her fingers curled, slender and dextrous, to trace a line down the right side of his stomach, then back up to circle around each abdominal muscle, before tracing up to his sternum, then flicked him under the chin.

"Get the bag I brought." she ordered, "It should be just outside the shower. I want to show you something."

He tilted his head and then turned around, keeping his eyes on her as long as he could. He was immediately thankful for how clean the bathroom remained most of the time, something which he had felt guilty for not noticing before. Peering out of the shower to see if anyone was watching, he gave a sigh of relief. No one was there. Reaching out, he grabbed her little bag by the handles and pulled it inside with him. Turning and closing the curtains, his eyes went wide as he witnessed the most beautiful sight in his entire, short life.

Latte stood there, leaning back against the cold tile, completely naked. Her supple form completely exposed to him, she felt exactly that. Rubbing her right arm with her left hand, she looked away and blushed. "... Do you... do you like me like this?" she asked, "... I... I'm not perfect..."

Part of her felt like she shouldn't even question it. She knew she was pretty, at least to so many others out there. They did not matter, however. All she cared about was what Oliver thought.

"I... I look weird down there, I know..." she added as he gawked, making her feel even more conscious of her own form, and the longer he was silent, the more fearful she became of what he thought! She couldn't look at him!

Then she felt the familiar fabric of her bag pushed against her belly.

"You think YOU look weird!" Oliver grinned, "Check THIS out." he told her and stripped down completely as well, tossing his clothes out onto the floor behind him. "I have all this dangly stuff..." he said, looking down at his own junk, then back up to her body, his gaze trailing up until their eyes met again. "... At least all your stuff is INSIDE."

Latte didn't know what to say or even do! It was all so sudden! Staring at his body the same way he had hers, the opossum woman could not help but be entranced. He was everything she had ever really dreamed he would be. Thin-bodied, lithe, but muscular in a way. A nice ass. Strangely powerful thighs... or at least she thought so, Latte felt like she had hit the jackpot! Not to mention his shaft, which was already rock-solid, bobbing gently. Latte's heartbeat shot through the roof as she suddenly felt almost sick, but in a good way.

"You... you dork..." she whispered, "... I can't believe you just... put it out there like that..."

Oliver tilted his head, "... Like what?" he asked, "... You seemed like you were embarrassed, so... I did the same!" he said, grinning widely, hands on his hips. He turned his attention to the bag in her arms, "So... what's in the bag anyways?"

Latte stared at him. "... That's what you're thinking about right now?" she asked, "... What I brought with me?"

He was... completely unpredictable. Infuriatingly difficult! She had stripped right in front of him and he was treating it like it was NOTHING. Like they were just two friends standing in front of each other as if nothing was different! Which... was... Good! Her flush had gone away a little. She didn't feel nervous! She felt... confident!

"Was that what he was trying to do?" she asked herself, still staring at him as he went on about something she barely even heard, "... Make me feel better? Even though... Even though I'm naked and he's... Hard?"

This was nothing like the other men she had gone out with. OLIVER was nothing like them. He, even with a raging hard-on seemed to be able to THINK and make her FEEL better. In her chest, something swelled. A feeling. Something she had never really felt with anyone else, but she had sensed in herself when they were alone together, if only a few times before those moments. She felt safe. Felt a wanting aching in her chest. A desire to be closer. To touch him, and be touched. The sensation bubbled there, behind her breast, until it sunk down into her belly and boiled. She heaved in a breath.

"Okay... I'm gonna show you something..." she whispered, "... You have to know about it. Almost every other guy has thought this was hot, until I asked them to help me out with it."

That got his attention, and made him stop talking. Suddenly, his focus returned, his eyes locking on her. It made her self-conscious again, but she pushed it aside. He was paying attention. This was important, and she saw that he knew it was. She appreciated his undivided attention.

"Now I just need your affection..." she thought to herself, "... More than that boyish stuff. I like that about you most of the time but..."

Latte unzipped the bag, still held close to her soft, supple belly. From it, she withdrew two things and placed them on the white, plastic fold-out bench in the shower meant for holding shampoo and soaps. The first was a half-gallon of milk in a cheap, cardboard carton which had already started to sweat condensation. The other was a small, red satchel which had faintly reflective fibers woven throughout.

"Milk...?" asked a bewildered-looking Oliver, "... And...?"

Latte picked up the small satchel that accompanied the milk first, and held them out at arm's length to shake back and forth in front of him.

"Chocolate-covered espresso beans." she said, blushing gently, and managing a smile despite the fact that she had never felt more nervous in her life in front of a guy. "... The milk-chocolate ones just make it too sweet." she explained.

Oliver had no idea what she meant, echoing the last two words with a gentle whisper and a look of perplexity. His curiosity was piqued. Oliver did not know it, but Latte could see his mind working, a little glint in his eye. The same kind he had when he was working hard on a painting, and she happened to pass by without his notice.

Latte nodded, "Yup. You'll see. Promise you won't freak out. I'm about to... well... you'll see..." she trailed off, then opened the small satchel to pull a few of the beans out of it to pop them into her mouth one after another. Each one made her feel a little more confident. A little more 'right' in what she was about to do. Never before had she done what she was about to do in front of someone and felt -more- at ease the longer things went on! All of her apprehension and nervousness started to melt away as sure as the chocolate around those espresso beans did as they slid down her throat, their gritty texture revealed by her crunching molars.

Oliver observed this with mild interest. "I wonder what this is about..." he thought to himself, "... She seems awfully nervous about eating those... I hope she's not allergic or something and... No, that doesn't make sense." he mused, watching her chew and swallow them in increasing numbers.

Latte filled her palm with the last few beans and popped the entire pile into her mouth, and chewed them with, Oliver thought, a determined look on her face. As if it was the most important thing in her entire life. Part of him was spellbound by the display. Other parts of him feared what was to come next, if only because he could not fathom what she could be preparing to do.

"I'm not going to make a big deal about this. Not until I see what she's really up to." he told himself mentally, steeling himself for... he didn't even know! It was exciting and scary!

Latte put the empty bag down and sighed gently. "It's a good thing this stuff doesn't do anything for me really..." she said, closing her eyes and rubbing her belly, "... It all goes here..." added the female possum as she slid her hands up her front to cup her breasts, each one filling her palm in a way that made Oliver yearn for more than just the sight of her alone.

"What do you mean?" Oliver asked, crossing his arms as the anticipation started to get to him, his heart racing again. "... They were just coffee beans, right? Or candy? Or...?"

Latte giggled and lowered her head, giving him a smile that he found to be more alluring than anything else he had ever seen. "You were right on the first try." she told him then reached for the carton of milk.

"That milk has been sitting inside for a bit... did you leave that in the car?" he asked, a little worried about if it was spoiled or not, guessing that she was going to drink it, and concluding rightly.

Latte strode forwards, her hips rolling side to side as she sauntered towards him to press an index finger to his lips. His curiosity, his worry, his actions had made her feel completely confident. She felt like, at last, that he would not judge her for this, or think her odd when she made her 'most important request.'

"Don't worry." she assured him as she pressed her index finger to his lips, "It's been sitting in the car for a few hours, and I just bought it. It's freezing out there, so I'm actually surprised it's not more of a milkshake by now." she told him, then pushed the carton to her belly to hold it there. Using only one hand, she held the carton with her pinky, ring, and middle finger, making an indent in her belly as her index finger and thumb pushed the carton's opening apart. Still holding it, those same fingers wrapped around the newly opened flaps, grasped each and squeezed so that the carton's signature diamond opening appeared.

"That's amazing..." marveled Oliver, though he did not speak the words aloud.

Latte's fingers crawled across the surface of the carton so that she could lift the entire half-gallon to her lips. Holding it firmly, she tipped it up and turned away from Oliver so that he could view her in profile, the one visible eye she still had trained on him just subtly more half-lidded than usual, a tiny smile on her lips as she began to drink.

There was something so wonderfully -sexy- about everything she was doing. The way she was acting like the whole thing was one big secret? The way she had moved and pushed a finger to his lips? How she was standing, the soft curves of her middle pronounced by the position of her hips? That -stare?-

It was almost just far too much to take. It WOULD have been, in fact, if Latte hadn't accidentally breathed in and choked a little on the milk, coughing some of it up onto the shower floor as she doubled over and held the milk away from her, upright as she did so. Oliver immediately went to her and bent low to hold her, one arm over her back, the pressed against her sternum to keep her upright.

Coughing and shaking her head, Latte cursed and bit her lip, "Dammit... so not what I wanted..." she managed, before coughing again, "... I messed up..."

Oliver frowned and then knelt in front of her, letting his hands slide to her shoulders, looking up at her. He did not know what to say, but he knew he didn't want her to stop, and somehow felt like what she had just done was REALLY important to her. So, even if he didn't know what was going on, he did feel as if he knew what he needed to do and pushed her back up to a standing position, then...

Oliver kissed Latte on the lips, something that surprised the opossum enough that she dropped the milk on the ground, causing it to spill across the floor and get all over their feet and ankles. Latte's tail curled around her legs and then across Oliver's lower back as her eyelids slackened and she reached over his shoulder to pull him in. It didn't last, though. He pulled away. Disappointed, she stared into his eyes, questioning.

She received her answer as he said "You didn't mess anything up..." in a low whisper, "... I don't know what you're doing... but keep going..." he added, somewhat breathlessly as his shaft's tapered tip bobbed and pressed against her belly every few seconds.

Latte glanced down at Oliver's penis. "... You're still hard..." she said with a smile, "... You really like what I was doing, huh...?" she asked.

Receiving a confidence-boosting nod-and-grin, Latte tilted her head to the side and spotted the spilt milk.

"No sense crying...?"

"Over spilled milk...?"

"... About to be more spilled..." she promised, "... Watch..."

Oliver's brow furrowed. It was his turn to be confused.

Latte reached up and put her right hand's index finger atop his snout, then pushed down on it a little to tilt his head forwards. "My chest... watch." she said, feeling warmth spreading within each of her palmable breasts.