All That Really Matters
I walk down the street. The sky is dark, pierced with white spots that align to form shapes and reveal destinies. A cold wind blows against my face and I shift, pulling my coat tightly against myself. Each footfall against the hard cement of the sidewalk echos in the nearly deserted street. At the intersection behind me, red, green and pale yellow light shine onto the black asphalt, the sound of rubber against stone as cars roll through the intersection, inside of each, a nameless, faceless person going to some meaningless place. I continue to walk.
My continuing footsteps bring me past a warmly lighted storefront. On the invisible glass of the window in front, "Penderson's Books" is written in cheerful green letters. Within, shelves of books are lined neatly in the back; the front of the store is set up like a comfy livingroom, complete with armchairs, a loveseat, and an ornate throw rug. I can remember meeting my friends in that store, and as we walked through the aisles, we pulled out books and made fun of the authors we didn't like. Now, though, there is a man sitting in the loveseat alone, which I see barely before I pass the large window. He appears comfortable, reading a book that doesn't look familiar to me. I am curious, but my feet don't allow me to stop.
I come to a streetcorner and I press the crossing button. There is no one coming from either direction, but I choose to wait for the light anyway. Seconds tick by like sand in an hourglass. I would never get them back, but standing here in the cold night seemed like the right way to spend them at this moment. I couldn't say why, exactly. A puff of steam billows from my lips as I sigh and blink, realizing that my feeling of rightness had made me zone long enough for the red hand to start flashing on the crossing signal box. I hurry myself across the street, muttering to myself that I really need to pay more attention to what I'm doing. If I had done that in the street... But I didn't lose focus in the street, I remind myself, and continue.
I now pass a travel agency. AA Travel, the sign in front proclaims. Such stupid names, with a bunch of A's in the front so it'll be one of the first ones in the phonebook. Usually the ones with a whole fucking line of A's at the beginning sucked, but people are impatient so they go with the first thing they see. But enough of that, because my attention is diverted to a picture of a beach scene. The picture strikes me in such a way that I stop walking and move to the picture, staring at it as if I had never seen a beach before. In it, a man and woman are lying on the beach, looking happy, holding drinks, probably blue hawaiis by the color. How typical. It is sunset, and the red, orange, and purple of it is so beautiful. A caption reads "COME VISIT BEAUTIFUL GUAM" next to the woman. I stare at the picture, and sigh. If only I could, I muse, then turn away, moving away. As I look up at the sky, I can almost trick myself into seeing that beautiful sunset in between the towering skyscrapers that dominate the night sky.
I cross another street and stop in front of a five story building. I reach into my pocket and pull out a key ring, selecting a key with mostly flat teeth. I insert it into the lock, which clicks, and I pull open a door. Stepping through, I find myself in the familiar foyer of my apartment building. Looking up at the stairs that lead to the upper floors, and my apartment, I can remember moving in. The boxes are always so much heavier when you don't want to leave home for another house. I also remember the first month. Mom was such a good sport, letting me take up so much of her time like that, calling her every day and such. I am such a homebody. Now, though, I know this place better than I know the house I grew up in for years.
I ascend the stairs and turn, walking down the second floor hallway. I can hear televisions playing in some of the rooms I pass, an argument in another. It sounds heated. I shut it out. That's what the world needs less of: aggrivation and violence. I stop walking and look at the door on my right. Number 29. I look down at my keyring and select another key. I insert it into the lock and open the door.
The room I see and step into is a familiar one. The soft light of a lamp dimly illuminates the room, which is in stark contrast to the white rectangle of light that comes from the kitchen door. A human shaped shadow interrupts the rectangle of light and he sticks his head out of the door, smiling. "Good, you're home. The food is just about to come of the oven. Glad I started it when I did."
I nod and smile, and as he dissapears into the kitchen again, I look out the window at the cold, dark night outside. I close my eyes and slowly, softly sigh. Home. "I love you," my voice is soft, but obviously loud enough, for from the kitchen, I hear:
"I love you, too."
I follow the voice into the kitchen and there he stands: he is five foot eight with black fur, a cute tail, and strong paws. My lovely panther. I walk to him and wrap my arms around him. He smiles and hooks an arm around my shoulders, a paw reaching up to idly play with my long ears. "Damn bunnies..." He says in a playful tone. "Always so affectionate."
I chuckle and nose his cheek. "Hey, you know you'd be less happy if I all of the sudden died on you."
"More food for me."
"...That's cold." I pull away and shove him. "You're so mean!"
"I know." He looks at me and smiles, showing his teeth. "I'm a cat. What do you expect? You want nice, get a dog."
"...Yeah, and if I did, you'd kill me."
"Yeah... and? You'd get 'nice' before you died."
"Ha ha." I roll my eyes and turn, leaving the kitchen. I take off my coat and hang it on a coat hook. I then wander into my and his room. It was comfortable, and fairly messy. We are both very un-neat furs, so there is stuff all over the floor. I like to keep the stuff on the floor free from anything that can go rotten, though. I step over to the closet and open it, looking inside.
Most of the clothes here are his. They are neatly hung on hooks. He likes his clothes. After looking over them, I grab a blue and white robe. Closing the closet door, I toss the robe onto the bed. Reaching down to my shirt, I peel it off, up over my head. My chest and underarms tense with the cold and I shiver. After a moment, I reach down and undo my belt, button and zipper. My jeans fall off with a slightly jingly thump. "Well... Hey there, Cutie." I jump a bit and spin to face the door. There, in the doorway, is my kitty. "My naked rabbit senses were tingling and what do I find? Why, a naked rabbit."
"Not for long, though." I say, reaching for the robe. "It's damn col-" I don't finish my sentence, because before I can, he runs at me and pounces, pushing me onto the bed and pinning me there.
"No, you're not." He says, smiling mischeviously. "You're staying just like you are." He grips my upper arms tightly with his paws and I bite my lower lip. He presses his hips against mine, and I let out a soft gasp. I can feel a hot lump on the fornt of his pants. "I can keep you perfectly warm..." He whispers. "Inside, and out." I shiver at his words, but as I move in the slightest, he tightens his grip. "Don't move now."
He lets go and stands before me. He makes eye contact with me and slowly, oh so slowly, peels off his t-shirt. It is so slow that I can see as every hair is lifted by the fabric, then falls into place, one at a time.
After the shirt is off, he tosses it onto my face. I take a moment and hold it there, inhaling deeply. His musk is strong, bold, and sharp. It fills my nostrils and my body shivers. My sheath swells with the pleasure it brings. I am so caught up in his smell that the warm, wet feeling on my bulging sheath makes me jump. I toss the shirt away to see him looking up at me, his rough, pink tongue sliding over me. I moan, arching my hips up to his face. He simply smiles and stands.
I can fully see his body now, and what a body it is. He is not ripped, but his body has all the right shapes and tones. Two pink nipples stand out from the black fur, and a little further south, there is an indent that is his naval, and even further down is the pink shaft of his sex, pointing at me. His paws reach forward and grab my thighs. His paws are strong and rough to the touch. The strength makes me shiver. "Oh... we cannot forget..." He says and pulls back. I close my eyes again.
In the background, I can hear a drawer open, then close. I hear his footsteps walk back over to me. I can hear a snap, then a small sound that sounds like something semi-liquid. I then feel a cool wetness in between my legs, on my tailhole. I shiver, arching my chest up. I hear him chuckle. There is a soft rubbing sound. Then...
I feel my legs lifted once more, and I open my eyes. He smiles down at me as he presses the tip of his sex against my tailhole. Without a word, he presses forward, and I feel a twinge of pain before his sex forces its way into my half-unwilling tailhole. I wince, but there is little more discomfort. He remains still inside me for a moment before pulling his hips back, then rocking them forward. I man, feeling the skin of his sex rub agianst the almost as sensitive skin of my tailhole. When he pushes in, I feel full, complete, and as if I am one with him. When he retreats, I hunger for his return.
He leans forward and moves his paws first to my chest, then up to my cheeks. He pulls my head up and he kisses me. I wrap my legs around his hips and part my lips, my tongue sliding out to meet his. They dance between our mouths before moving into mine. Meanwhile, his cock, additionally lubricated within me by his precum, pumps a little faster. He keeps me in the kiss with his paws as he withdraws his tongue for a moment, then pushes it back forward. I moan, broken into smaller bits by his thrusts, which bounce my body.
I do not know how much time passes, but the next thing I know, he pulls his lips away from mine and he lifts up. He puts his paws on my right leg and gently tugs at it. I uncurl it from his hip and, with his help, swing it over to the side, my body pivoting on him. He moves me until I am on my stomach. I look back and up at him. "Get up." He says, his voice more stern now. I weakly get up onto my knees, and elbows. He smiles and pushes his cock deeply into me, then pulls back out to where he was before, his paws roughly shifting my weight to suit his needs. Finding me in the right spot, his hips resume thier pushing and thrusting. My gasps and moans grow louder.
I feel his warm body lean down over me, his chest agianst my back. "Mine..." his voice is breathy and deep. "My bunny..." I give a short, higher pitched gasp as a responce, and his hips begin to move with more intensity. It is hard for me to breathe because of the movements. My paws grip the blankets. Thick drops of pre drip from my penis and leave a dark wet spot on the bed. His breathing picks up and he begins to snarl. My eyes close tightly. With one... then another... and another thrust that make my body lurch forward, he cries out, his back hunching over me. I feel an additional warmth build inside me, and I shudder. I relax my legs, letting them lie flat on the bed, and his body moves with mine, staying inside of me.
We are silent, lying there on the bed, save for our panting. This moment was quickly shattered with the loud blare of the smoke alarm. "Shit!" He cries, pulling out of me quickly with a soft pop of air and he ran from the room. I laugh. We had forgotten about dinner.
He returns five minutes later with the phone in his hand. "...Pizza sound good to you?"
I laugh. "As long as it's with you, that's all that matters." He walks over to me and sits on the bed, putting a paw on my back, petting softly. "I love you," I say quietly.
"And I love you, too." He leans down and kisses my cheek. And that's all that really matters, my mind says to me softly.