FSE

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Anybody out and about in the seedier sides of Lakertown wouldn’t be too festive—save for the chilly drunkards trying to hail a cab.

After what I’d done, I knew for certain that on-duty cops and anybody listening to police scanners would be searching for a tall canine as a murder suspect. They didn’t know I was a dark wolf just yet, but calling for a taxi or someone on a driver app was no option. So, I walked back home on foot.

Well, more like running back home. The Christmas present tucked inside my trench coat didn’t help much, but I did manage to make it a block or so from my sanctuary.

Cop sirens blared nearby. “Shit,” I muttered, then waited. And waited. I kept one paw on the dagger hidden in my belt.

My dark-furred tail curled, then uncurled. Then, I bolted across an alleyway the moment that the police sirens grew distant. I swiped and stepped from shadows and unlit streetlamps, occasionally being exposed by the glow of neon signage. Finally, I found the wall of a tall apartment building and entered the emergency exit door—conveniently rigged so as not to trigger an alarm. It saved me plenty of times over the years, allowing me to return to my penthouse apartment completely unnoticed by the front desk receptionist of the building’s main lobby. It helped set each alibi following the rare local assassination that spooked the cops.

A few flights of stairs later, once I felt certain nobody was present or watching, I entered the elevator. My thumb jabbed on one of the penthouse suites. Before exiting the car, I patted my trench coat pocket for good luck. The present was still there, much to my relief.

My apartment had never felt so festive before, not in the years since I first paid the initial deposit. A Christmas tree stood in the corner of the living room, cradled in awkwardly placed ornaments of different sizes and draped in multicolored lights. A wreath hung on the door, some tinsel lay decorated on the mantle, and beneath them were two hung stockings. Those had definitely not been something I bought, but Cherry insisted.

Speaking of whom, I found the young ocelot suspiciously wearing my black bathrobe around his smaller, lither frame. He sat on the couch watching a Christmas special rerun on the TV, only to switch it off once he heard me closing the front door.

“Markus! You’re here!” he cheerfully greeted.

“Why’re you wearing that?” I asked, pointing to my bathrobe.

“Nothing!” he said nonchalantly.

“Mmhmm,” I replied, nodding. “Nothing?”

“How was work?” he changed the subject. “I didn’t know what time you’d be back, so I decided to keep dinner on ‘warm’ in the oven and wait.”

Rolling my eyes at the cheeky ocelot, I decided to play along with him, and sniffed the air. I smelled dinner and something else, the ladder of which was radiating from the spotted feline, and whatever was hidden from view under my bathrobe. It was faint, but noticeable to any canine with a good nose.

“Mmm…And here, I was wondering if you’d be tempted to have dinner first,” I teased.

“Oh!” Cherry feigned offense, if only for a second. “Not really, but could you blame me if I did? The ham you bought smells so, so, so good! The cornbread too!”

Already, my maw watered and tail began to wag. “No, I could not,” I replied to his question. I snatched the oven mitts and opened it wide enough to reach inside. “Now, let’s eat, Cherry!”

***

Cherry and I seriously needed to return to our diet come New Year’s Eve. Thanks to the ocelot’s ridiculously high metabolism, he didn’t need to worry about gaining too much weight consuming sugar, soda, and carbohydrates like I did. He ate almost a whole batch of Christmas cookies a week after he’d convinced me (a.k.a. Cherry let me fuck him. Again.) to buy the ingredients and spend a whole day making them.

He still wore the bathrobe obscuring his figure, or that of whatever was hidden beneath it. Whatever it was, Cherry wouldn’t budge on slipping it open, instead keeping an eye on me as we relaxed in each other’s arms. The two of us lay cuddled on the couch, nursing our full bellies for an hour, then watched a couple of cheesy holiday-themed romance movies on the television. He also got more invested in the romantic lead than I did, repeatedly complaining that couples needed to talk more often.

“I think the chick needs to hire you to kill her evil boss,” Cherry quipped. “That way, she’ll inherit the promotion she’s long since earned and convince her future in-laws that their son deserves her!”

“She couldn’t afford my services,” I said dryly.

“She might,” he argued, “if she decides to sell her parents farm and give you the cash.”

We watched, occasionally laughed, then found ourselves scooting closer and closer. By the time the movie ended, and another identical film started after some commercials, I got restless and muted the film.

“Not getting into it either?” Cherry asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “Frankly, I’m…more interested in giving you your present. If you’re up for it?”

My ocelot lit up like a warm fireplace. “Yeah!”

Smiling back, I traveled down a short distance to the foyer and went for my trench coat, which still hung from the mounted wall rack and reached inside the interior pocket, pulling out a triangular item enveloped in colorful, reindeer-smattered wrapping paper. Cherry’s eyes lit up the moment I handed it over.

“Merry Christmas, Cher,” I spoke warmly. “Open it.”

He did just that, tossing the wrapping paper aside. He let out an amazed chuff at his present.

“A DVD of Jacob Candle 4?!” Cherry giddily flung himself into my arms, still holding the case in his paw. “Thank you, thank you! Oh, thank you, Markus!”

I smirked down at the feline. “Do you like it?”

“I fucking love it, dude!”

He pecked my lips, brushing his rough tongue against them as he parted. Cherry beamed down at the DVD case, then set it aside.

“We are so gonna watch this later,” he said with a trill, slowly stepping back in front of the Christmas tree. “But first, heheh…Merry Christmas, Markus…”

He shed my bathrobe to the floor. When he did, my stoic face nearly slipped clean off. Cherry stood and absolutely nothing but a pair of girly pink panties, Christmas themed stockings, and a bright red ribbon tied around his chest, with a meat bow displayed in the center of his chest. The crimson and pink clashed against his coffee and caramel spotted fur, the panties in particular, emphasizing his adorable bulge without making him look less feminine, especially as he posed for me and winked.

“How do you like your present, big boy?” Cherry asked in his alluring voice that often led to the straightest of men easily giving up their wallets. “Interested in unwrapping it?”

I gave a nod of absolute certainty. Cherry surprised me though by walking over to the kitchen island and grabbing a plastic tube. The smell of vanilla wafted from it in waves, so sweet and sugary. It overwhelmed my nostrils and almost distracted me from when he melt down in front of my trousers and unbuttoned it. Meanwhile, I had already shared my sweater and stood shirtless and then pantsless for the ocelot I loved.

Without waiting for me to ask what he was doing, the lad suddenly began to lather my erection with vanilla frosting. It felt cold but it didn’t soften my throbbing member.

“I’m not using icing as lube, kiddo,” I stated between canid pants.

Cherry let out a snort. “It’s not for lube, silly,” he giggled, setting the tube aside on the floor. He gazed up at me, wearing a mischievous grin that exposed his feline fangs. “It’s for this…”

He opened his mouth and plunged his lips around my icing-covered cock. My stoic mask finally slipped right off, replaced with lecherous amusement and lust.

As a former mercenary and current hitman, I’d had my fair share of exotic adventures, especially regarding sexual escapades around the world. All of them ranged in various forms of kinkiness. I once fucked a young man inside the least-soundproofed dwelling of a Brazilian favela. I once fucked an Austrian Dalmatian and his dad in the same day, only to discover they were both doing the same to each other, and they invited me in for a threesome after I helped them assassinate the vindictive, homophobic mother. I once killed the grandfather of a Mexican cartel soldier I later fucked on the outskirts of Tijuana. I also once had the pleasure of having a pair of foreign exchange students—one Siberian tiger from Russia and a Bengal tiger from Thailand—share my cock and a bottle of vodka as we cohabitated for the night at a love hotel in Osaka. I’d had vodka, whiskey, sake, bourbon, and even tequila soaked all over my shaft right before having a lover suck me off. Never vanilla icing though.

Note to self, I thought idly at the darkest recesses of my mind. Consider re-introducing this around another holiday.

To say it was different would’ve been an understatement. To say I was in heaven would’ve been an even greater understatement. I never thought my cock could be that hard until that very Christmas Eve. Cherry didn’t just suck me off—he vacuumed my goddamn cock!

My head hung back as I let out an incredibly deep moan. My fingers collected his skull and my thumbs squeezed around his feline ears, already molten hot with blushing heat. Yet my squeeze and didn’t slow the ocelot down. Not at all. Not only did he suck on my wolf length without so much as scraping the foreskin with his sharp teeth, not only did he expertly lather the underside with his saliva and tongue, but he let its rough texture dance around my girth while licking up every ounce of icing along the way. Hell, I could feel him swallowing both my pre-cum and the vanilla substance, tasting them both at once. And so eagerly too, from the way, his tail swished happily behind him. Mine wagged too, albeit more fiercely, almost like a fan on full power directly behind me.

My back arched slightly as I gave one thrust after another. Eager thrust after eager thrust inside that majestic jaw, those velvety lips, and the tongue of a fallen angel. Cherry shamelessly reached around to grasp both of my ass cheeks. He grasped them for support while feeling them flex back-and-forth against his paw pads, something I felt even as I was distracted by his talented tongue work. The best part about this was the vibrations going up and down my spine as my ocelot purred around me, around my manhood.

“Oh—F…” I barely formed cohesive words. I could only articulate in vowels. “Aaaaeeeeioooouuuu! Fuuuuuuuck! Oh fuck, fuck! S-Stop it…W-Wait, Cher…! Wait…!”

Cherry abruptly pulled his whiskered lips back. He stared up apologetically and waited for me to say something. He held an anticipated breath against my raging cock tip as I fought to catch my breath. Finally, I go down a bit of air without panting too much.

“Didn’t wanna pop too quickly…”

“Not yet?” He guessed and I nodded. They also slowly stood up while grasping my elbows. “Alright. C’mere…”

He leaned forward and up to connect our muzzles together. His whiskers tickled my snout’s bridge as we deepened the kiss. Traces of vanilla icing could be tasted on Cherry’s gums. That and my pre. His purring vibrated through my jaw and down my chest as I reached over and caressed his sides, fingers tracing through his silk fur, then grasping one of his handsome hips as the other paw peeled off the bow around his chest. To my amusement, Cherry let out a needy sound when one of my thumbs brushed up against his nipple.

“I am gonna fuck the daylights out of you,” I growled against his lip.

He snorted, shivering, but not intimidated by my voice. “That a promise?”

“Damn fucking right you are!” I snarled with a wide grin. “Get ready.”

I turned him around, grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him forward. He collided with the nearby glass door leading out to the balcony. Frost, some now, and a thin layer of freezing ice covered both the balcony and the clear glass itself, but none of that stopped me from pressing my ocelot up against it. I imagined that anybody with a telescope in a faraway building would easily spot a mostly naked nineteen-year-old ocelot pinned against translucent glass leading out to a penthouse balcony. Boy, would they get a show. I already imagined how his androgynous torso, lithe chest, and hard nipples would appear flat against glass on a cold December evening. It caused even more pre-cum to dribble down my length.

“Nyahhhh!” Cherry gasped, apparently shocked by the cold. “Oh, God! That’s cold!”

“Don’t move,” I ordered directly into his ear. He almost resisted but did obey like a good lad. My nose sniffed the air, and I let out a lecherous chuckle. “Good lad. You prepared yourself for me before I came back. Is that…strawberry flavoring?”

“I wanted to go for my brand, but the nearest adult store had run out,” Cherry pouted, then wiggled his panty-clad hips and raised his striped tail up for me. “Now, shut up and fuck me! Just-Just give it to me! Please, Markus!”

I exhaled through my nostrils. I didn’t even bother with shimmying his pink panties down to the floor. I simply peeled them to the side and align my cock up to that puckered up, strawberry-lubed entrance between two perfect, spotted mounds. The tip kissed his quivering tail hole. Finally, it gently spread his anus in one slow thrust.

“Ahhhhhhh!” he moaned in a high-pitched purr. “Oh, fuuuuuuuck! You’re filling meeeee…”

My ocelot squeezed around my firm cock. His anal ring held me in a velvet vise, squeezing down on it, but doing little to keep me from pulling back and slamming back in with a little more force. He let out a soft hiss and then a gasping trilling noise. The way he mewled from my continuous pounding made it clear I didn’t need to worry about going to rough on him, and he wouldn’t be telling me our safe word. If anything, feeling his tail curl around my hip and pull me forward made it clear he wanted to go harder.

So, I did just that. I grasped both his hips and fucked Cherry hard. I let out a series of snarls and relished every sensation up and down my tool. I was in heaven!

I felt 100% certain that somebody on the floor below us heard the noises we produced next. Not only that, but I also felt 100% certain that at least one mammal out there in one of the nearby apartment buildings spotted me fucking the daylights out of a ocelot hooker against a glass panel door. They probably would have witnessed the previous time. We had a They probably would have witnessed the previous time we had a risky rendezvous out on the balcony itself during a pitch-black summer night when the power was out, and the two of us felt bold enough to try it (at his nagging, flirtatious insistence). All for Laketown voyeurs and their binoculars to see.

I gave them even more of a show. I pounded even harder into the slutty ocelot. The pleasure started building up, and I growled even deeper, the hidden carnal instincts underneath bubbling over until I clamped down on the feline’s right shoulder. Cherry let out a pained yelp, followed by moans that sounded like a Gregorian chant. He started clenching tighter around my cock and bucked back against each invading centimeter of my shaft. Finally…Finally…

“Nggqhhhhh!” I stopped, biting quickly enough to let out a climactic roar.

“Ahhhhhhooooohhhhhh!” so did Cherry.

We collapsed together against to the glass door, the action promptly dislodging my dick just in time to stain his backside with a few squirts. Condensation fogged up the door to the point that it looked like it was snowing outside. Our knees trembled in sore satisfaction, and our tails curled around each other as Cherry nuzzled himself against my collarbone. We were so exhausted. We were also smiling like a pair of idiots.

“Merry Christmas, Cherry.”

“Merry Christmas, Markus.”

The minute that either of us could stand, we were going to take a hot shower and go to bed. Maybe I would be open to watching his damn movie in the morning. That is, if we didn’t have any other fun plans to celebrate Christmas Day.