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They called him Don Aurelio, a name which conjured images of an old emperor, engraving a sort of majesty in the minds of those who cared. Which, in 19th century Italy, was pretty much everyone. Nobility was important to people. To commoners, you were almost God-like, untouchable and infallible. To other nobles, you were the subject of endless banter behind closed doors. It mattered little to either of them what you did, only what it looked like you were doing. You had a reputation to uphold after all, and not just your reputation, but the reputation of your entire family.

Aurelio had little patience for such games, yet he played along like any good noble must. To refuse to partake in the trifles of honor and duty was to be center of attention, and Aurelio despised the clinical ire such attention accrued. He preferred to pass just beneath everyone's radar, escaping the gaze of his more ambitious fellows.

Doing so meant, of course, that he had to be married. And like all good marriages, it was arranged by people who had more interest in politics than mutual affection. He had the misfortune of marrying above his status, a fact that kept the tongues wagging far more than he preferred. But even worse was the pompous vixen he was married off to. She was attractive enough, and he was the envy of many men in the city states of Italy, but as he one put it to a trusted ear, "Her interest in trivial matters is only rivalled by the cunning with which she pursues her political goals."

She was, to put it lightly, a bad match for him. But he, like the good noble he was, went along with the expectations of his family, securing an apparently needed alliance between his home city state and hers. He even managed to scrub his distaste for her personality long enough to bed her multiple times. Duty demanded as such. If he did not, he was sure she would find a way to cause more headaches in the long run.

One silver lining was that he was expected to socialize with nobles from other parts of Italy, which often entailed long periods of time away from his wife. While he was no fan of the chit chat nobles called socializing, he was a fan of travel, especially when he went to the opera house.

And that was right where he was now. He was on the edge of his seat, his tall form taking on the giddiness of a horse much younger than his countenance. Not that he was that old. Most people looked at his silken white hair and beard, combined with his thoughtful gaze, and thought he was well into his fiftieth year. The truth was he was only in his mid-thirties.

His friend and host disappeared early on. It was nothing out of the ordinary. For most, the opera house was a place you went to for social reasons. You met your mistresses in the darkened hallways. You gambled your excesses of money away. You entertained your guests with music while you ate dinner. Aurelio didn't care about any of that. He had no need of those trappings and was more than happy to be left alone, squirrelled away, in the private box to be absorbed by the musical wonders on the stage.

It was a lovely concert thus far. He always made the extra effort to see these two singers, Cleo and Cesare. Those two names were worthy of operas themselves, conjuring images of the passionate romance between the Roman conquerer and the Egyptian queen. This concert though was significantly less dramatic, however. It was a different kind of concert, just the two of them on stage and an accompanist. No stories. No elaborate costumes, just the intimacy of two outstanding singers sharing their love for music to an audience.

And share they did. They began a duet about love's jealousies. Aurelio knew little about love or jealousy, luxuries he would never be granted in his position, but in these moments at the opera, he felt like he did. He felt Cesare's petty jealousy at his fiancé's flirting. And he felt Cleo's admonishment at his silliness. Cesare asked for forgiveness, but explained that he couldn't help himself. He wasn't just jealous of the man who was flirting with her. He was also jealous of the breeze which caresses her hair and the sun which kisses her face. And she explains that she loves the breeze because she can whisper his name to it. And she loves the sun because she knows it smiles on his face.

What a perfect expression! How such a thing was possible, he did not know, but he did not ask questions. He was intoxicated, and his heart was full. The two singers synchronized, leaving behind their words and jealousy to the past, expressing their love for each other. It was almost as if their voices were making love to one another in the air, dancing around, filling the vast hall with their passion.

It finished. The singers sung goodbye to one another as only those truly in the springtime of love could. Aurelio could barely breathe, still drunk off the sound which resonated in the ear. It was only when the next piece began did he realize the stretch in his pants. He was throbbing, and probably leaking, the widened flare denting the fabric obscenely. The thought made his cream-colored cheeks grow deep red as he attempted, but failed to will himself to calm down.

And those failures lasted through the rest of the concert. It crept in on him, but he began to see just how attractive these singers were. Not just the lynx with her plush, dazzling coat, and full figure, but also the panther. His tall, broad shouldered form, coated with midnight-black fur, was only contrasted with the brightness of his radiant smile which could be seen even from up in the rafters. Aurelio's usual musical absorption was peppered with persistent dirty thoughts, imagining these two in situations which left him in a state of perpetual blush.

The lights went out. The singers had left the stage, and the clamor of post-performance chatter filled the hall. The performance was over and the stallion was already on his way backstage. It was no big deal when you were like him. Dress well enough and no one will question you. The only issue was finding their rooms. Quickly he stopped to ask a backstage hand where to find them. The mouse he asked was stammering at his imposing countenance,

"Yes, sir. Down the hallway here and then take two rights. But, sir-"

In his eagerness, the mouse's words were left unheard. If he had stayed, the mouse would have explained that the two singers had a habit of coupling after performances. And by coupling, he would have meant fucking.

Unaware, Aurelio was rounding the hallway and paused in front of the door. He took a deep breath to calm himself, and just as he was raising his hand to knock at the door, he heard a loud feminine moan. He paused, holding his breath as his fist trembled slightly midair.

It can't be.

And then there were two voices, one masculine, the other feminine.

There was no mistaking it. Those dirty thoughts flooded his brain again, and it took just a moment for his pants to tighten once more. He just stood there, finding it harder to stay still, but was paralyzed in place. He wanted to leave. Give these two the privacy they deserved, to pleasure each other in a way he could never indulge himself. But he also wanted to stay. He wanted to watch. He wanted to open this door and watch as the panther plunged himself into the lynx, accelerating their post-performance coitus.

They hastened. He heard the visceral sounds of two horny felines who just needed each other, the barely muffled sounds of moans through paper thin walls. He heard each gasp and moan as clearly as if he had been in the room himself. Those were sounds he wanted to make. He wanted to be lost in pleasure, to feel the true intimacy of someone he was attracted to. It was what he had been denied for so long. He had no interest in mistresses and whores, and bedding his wife felt like the worst kind of chore. And here these two singers were, engaging in forbidden pleasure.

He pressed himself up against the door, wanting to hear more, wanting to hear the passion he longed for in his most lonely nights. In that moment of utmost longing, the horse stumbled into the room.

Those sweet sounds of pleasure stopped, and Aurelio was frozen in place. The large horse's eyes were cast toward the ground, not wanting them to see him, but also wanting them to see him. He wanted them to see just how hard he was, just how needy he was.

Looking down as he was, he could see it. He had leaked pre through his pants, making his pants an even darker shade of black. He wanted them to see how much he enjoyed listening. It was a secret thrill he had discovered not only moments before.

Hushed and excited whispers began filling the room, replacing the carnal sounds of lust with the devious sounds of plotting.

Aurelio hazarded a look up at the other two. They were smiling--no, they were grinning at him. The panther's barbed cock throbbed toward him, still dripping wet. The lynx's inner thighs were drenched with fluids that only a horny feline could produce.

The lynx spoke first, in a voice whose mellifluousness was only matched by her singing voice, "Don-"

"Aurelio," the stallion offered breathlessly.

"Ah yes, Don Aurelio hasn't run away yet. You think he might be interested in joining?"

They both stepped toward the stallion, their respective tails bouncing with the gentle swagger of their step. The male arrived first, his full body up against Aurelio's clothed chest, his cock sliding downward along his shaft, the barbs threatening to tear the already strained trousers.

"Judging by this down here, I think so," the panther growled into the horse's ear.

Soft plump fur and flesh pressed nestled along his stomach, Aurelio's downward gaze was drawn into the mesmerizing peaks and canyons of the lynx's breasts, "I do think you're right, Cesare. It only makes me regret the rule we made about this."

"No playing with others after a concert," the two said in unison.

Aurelio could feel their two prehensile tails wrapping around his back, dancing with one another as they paused.

The female feline broke the silence, "Perhaps we could postpone until tomorrow, dear? Meet this handsome stud at a cafe."

The male responded, "Really get to know each other on a less carnal measure before we go down the deep end. Would you like that Don Aurelio?"

The horse merely blushed, trying to speak words, but failing.

The two suddenly broke their embrace, returning to their dressing table.

"Seems he's a bit conflicted," Cesare said while rummaging through his bags to pull out a card, handing it over to Aurelio.

Cleo spoke next, "Here's the deal, tomorrow we are going to be at this café all afternoon. If you join us, we can get to know each other better, and perhaps end up back in our place to enjoy a bit of quality time."

Continuing from the lynx, "It's up to you handsome, but I know both of us will be disappointed if we don't see your white mane and tail tomorrow."

Aurelio didn't have any words to say he just stood there speechless.

"It's okay dear. You don't need to say anything. Cesare and I need to pick up where we left off. Feel free to leave whenever. Or stay to watch." She winked.

Aurelio nodded wordlessly, before backing out of the room and closing the door behind him. He needed to clear his mind. He needed to think. He needed to walk away and decide whether he really wanted to do this. Should he give into the pleasures? Should he pretend this never happened? Go back to his ordinary life, denying himself of any true joy.

As soon he stepped away, those sounds began: the sounds which had drawn him here, paralyzed him, and made him long for more. Quiet at first, at barely a whisper, but as he walked away the lustful sounds from before only grew louder, as if continuing with him every step away, echoing in his ears, reminding him of the pleasure that may or may not await him.