So A Husky Walks Into A Bar: Part One
So A Husky Walks Into A Bar: Part One
[So A Husky Walks Into A Bar: Part Two](%5C)
[So A Husky Walks Into A Bar: Part Three](%5C)
I drummed my fingers on the polished marble slab, following the beat of the music that pervaded my bar. I swept a practiced eye over my patrons, looking for anything of interest; a cock eye that meant inebriation, an almost-empty glass, a red coloring around the face, or raised hackles. Nothing. I sighed, and closed my eyes, going back to pounding out the beat with my digits. After maybe thirty seconds, through the background din of conversation, I heard a familiar voice call my name. I looked along the bar at the speaker; Fred Daniels, one of my best customers. He was looking at me, and holding his empty glass at an angle. I smoothly slid along the counter, and neatly plucked it from his grasp. "Same, Fred?"
He nodded. "Not so much head this time, Jack; getting tired of asking for napkins."
I smirked, and refilled his glass with Irish stout. Sending his glass sailing along the polished surface, I picked up a glass from beneath the counter and a shine cloth, and proceeded to do my best stereotypical bartender. "So, Freddy; tell old Jack what's got you down?"
Fred caught the skittering glass with an equally practiced paw, and raised the draught to his muzzle. He put it down with a sigh, and scratched a spot under his mane. "Aw, same old, same old... Dealing with those idiots all damn day and not getting to bite their heads off like fleshy piñatas. I swear to God, these lawyers wouldn't have the collective common sense to make a decision if their pants were on fire."
I inspected an invisible spot on the inside of the glass. "Well, they're lawyers; I think you could eat a few without serious reprisal. Of course, they taste like bad beef jerky, so pick your battles. If you got arrested, who'd I get to handle my legal affairs? I'd have to go find a regular attorney, and I'd rather eat this glass."
Fred grinned, something that would be frightening if you'd never seen it before. "If I'm such an interesting bastard, how 'bout a round on the house?"
I laughed. "You're not that interesting."
He smirked, and went back to his drink. In case you don't understand, Fred Daniels is my lawyer and a Malis, in that order. You'd expect a lawyer to be something sneaky, like a ferret instead of a lion, but Fred wasn't a typical attorney. I swept the bar again, and counted five Malises. Malises make up only 1/4th of my clientele, but provide a good half of my income, so it pays to keep an eye on them. I'm human, myself, but I don't have any problems with the furry guys. That makes me the minority, I guess.
Most people are freaked out by them; the fact that they're a lot stronger than humans, their facial features, and the animal behavior that sometimes sneaks through. The scariest part is, it's not like Malises are a race. They're not aliens, don't freak out, but they're not altogether human either. Malises were once human, almost everyone knows that. The thing is, they can make other people not human too. There's a lot of speculation about how, or why, but it is possible for a Malis to turn a human into another Malis. They don't, if they can help it; that's a good way to get lynched, after all. But it happens, and so far, we haven't figured out a way to get Malises back to human. But I didn't mind in the slightest. In my mind, Malises are people too, and people need certain things in life. That's why the Jack of Diamonds (my bar) is one of the few in the area that serves Malises.
You might wonder why it's legal to discriminate like that. "Hell, it's 2020," you might say, "we got over that a long time ago!" Well, not quite. See, there aren't any laws about Malises, either in the Constitution or in general. I've talked to a few, and the general feeling is that if they make a fuss, then the whole damn thing'll go to Hell, and segregation will be brought back. They're content to lay low and take their lumps where they come. I don't like it much, but I'm a bartender. President Templeton doesn't exactly call for my opinion on things. I sighed, and went back to polishing my glass.
Then I felt something. A disturbance, flowing from the ground. No, I'm not a Jedi; see, behind the counter, Jack of Diamonds has no carpeting, or even any floor. I stand on the bedrock of the city. This means that I can feel vibrations from the sidewalk. I've gotten so I can even tell what gender the person is, and if they're blitzed. None of my patrons know about it, so everyone thinks I have a weird prescience-like talent and can sense other people. I let 'em. Good for business, right? At that moment, I was feeling a person, a woman... Running? At this time of night, that's not good. Then, I felt a bunch of heavy footsteps. Male. Uh-oh. I felt underneath the counter, and had barely found what I was looking for before the door burst open.
In came a girl, a Malis girl, a husky by the looks of her. She ran through the door and through the bar, before coming to a halt and looking around in a panic, as if she expected to see a door labeled "escape hatch". The door had just swung shut when it opened again, and in came Bill Paxton and his gang. Billy Paxton and his cronies were all human, and if you asked them, damn proud of it. I hated to see them walk in at the best of times; whatever they paid in drinks I always lost in the inevitable fight. But at times like this, when the idiots saw red, things were going from bad to awful.
I kept my voice calm, and said "Well, well, well, if it isn't Billy the Kid and his posse. What brings you to my humble dive?"
Bill eyed the husky girl, who looked like she was going to self-combust out of terror. "We don't want trouble, Jack. We were just having a discussion with this fine young Malis, and we wish to continue it outside."
I tapped the underside of the counter, and it made a couple of dull thunks. Fred took the opportunity to sit a few chairs over. I continued. "Bill, don't make me call the police. Just go find something more rewarding to do."
A few of Bill's toadies snickered. I frowned. Bill smirked, and said "Now, Jack, you know that won't solve anything. Just let us be about our business, and we'll have no trouble."
I sighed, and closed my eyes. "I never said I had a problem with it." I put my hands on the countertop, along with what I had grabbed earlier. "But Dinah might."
Bill paled, as did his gang. I didn't blame them; Dinah was awful persuasive. Especially considering that her idea of 'constructive discourse' was two shells of barbed buckshot from twin titanium barrels. Dinah was one of my few extravagances; a Ruttgers Peacemaker, with a custom choke to decrease spread. I clicked the safety audibly. "Would you care to continue the discussion with her?"
Bill's paleness turned to flush. He snarled "This isn't over, Jackie-boy. We'll remember this." Then he turned on his heel, and he and his posse stalked out. I lowered Dinah, and sighed. I walked out from behind the counter, and approached the husky girl. She flinched visibly from me.
"Easy, easy," I said. "They're gone now. Are you alright? Are you hurt?"
She shook her head, and squeaked "No."
I walked over to the window, and looked out. I let out my breath in an aggravated rush. "Dammit. They're waiting out there."
In an alley across the street, I could see some of Bill's gang lighting up cigarettes. They looked like they were digging in. I turned back to the husky. "You should probably hang around here for a while. Is there anyone you need to call? I've got a phone you can use..."
The husky girl shook her head again, and shyly said "No, thank you."
I ushered her to a small table out of sight of the street, and said "This should be good... Do you want something to drink?"
She looked up at me and said "Sherry; dry, please."
I got her her drink, and delivered it to her. She took it gratefully, and almost drained it dry in one go. I laughed, and said "Hey, slow it down a piece." I got the bottle, and refilled her drink. After setting the bottle down on her table, I sat down in the other chair and said "I'll let you know when those hooligans get bored and wander off. Here, take the bottle, free of charge."
She scooted the bottle an inch closer, and smiled. "Thank you very much." For the first time, I got a good look at her. At the risk of sounding like a date rapist (I hardly know this girl, after all) she was pretty fine. Underneath her muzzle, white fluffy fur covered her front torso, and steely blue coated the back. She had big, blue eyes, and traditional eyelashes. Her hair (yes, Malises still have human hair. Heaven knows why) was black and silky, and draped around her shoulders freely. Her pert, curly tail almost touched her back, and wagged slowly as I watched. She looked up at me, and twitched her nose. She said "Excuse me, sir, but I don't know your name."
I smiled, and ran a hand through my hair. "Of course, where are my manners?" I stuck out my hand to shake. "Jack Anderson, at your service."
She stared at my hand in surprise, obviously amazed that a human would touch a Malis willingly, and slowly shook it. "I... I'm Sasha. Sasha Williams."
"I'm very pleased to meet you, Sasha. Now, just relax. I'll make sure it's safe."
For better or for worse, that didn't happen. Night dragged on... And on... And on. As I hustled the last drunk into a taxi (I never send someone under the influence to their car), I looked up, and saw Paxton glaring at me. I nearly screamed in frustration. Were they planning to hole up until Judgment Day? I went back inside to Sasha and the dim bar. She had nearly drained the bottle of sherry. I sat down at the table with a grunt, and said "Sasha... I'm sorry. They're still out there."
She laid her ears back and whimpered. "Jack, what am I going to do? I can't get back to my motel with those people waiting for me!"
I sighed, and then had a thought, just a spur-of-the-moment thing. "Eh... Sasha, would you consider staying here overnight? I live above the bar, and I'd happily surrender the bed to..."
I got cut off. Sasha had leaned abruptly over the table and had hugged me tightly. The ruff of fur around her head tickled my ear. "Oh, thank you, Jack! I'd love to stay here."
I blinked, and felt a rush of blood to my face. Perhaps it was a better idea than I thought to give her that bottle. She released me, and we both stood up. "This way," I beckoned, and went to the door near the counter. I opened it for her, and let her lead the way. Suddenly, I sprang out in sweat. I hadn't cleaned in weeks! Thinking on my feet, I tapped Sasha's shoulder, and said "Uh, Sasha, do you think you could turn out the lights in the bar out for me? The switch bank is behind the counter."
She looked puzzled, but said "Ok," and went to do it. I hauled ass upstairs, and began frantically shoveling trash into a plastic bag. Beer bottles, pizza boxes, plastic wrapping, everything must go! I had just shoved the last bag into the disposal chute when Sasha stepped into my home.
Jack of Diamonds is a decent-sized affair, so the second story, my home, is rather comfy. I've always had a taste for light wood furniture and earth-tone wallpaper, which unfortunately makes my house look like a preppie's. The effect is normally dispelled by my liberal strewing of detritus, but I had taken care of that rather quickly. I switched on a few more lights, and said "Sasha, did you have a chance to eat tonight?"
Sasha, who was wandering around my living room, called back "No, I was on my way when..." She trailed off.
I didn't need her to elaborate, and said "Okay, let me just get something for us to eat." Normally, I would have dialed out for pizza or Chinese, but I wanted to impress Sasha. Unfortunately, I didn't have much on hand. Luckily, I was able to fall back on one of my family's greatest recipes; Panic stew. An invention of my mother, Panic stew (never named in front of guests) has no set recipe; instead, what you do is throw in a lot of chicken (strips, cubes, powder, doesn't matter) and dice plenty of vegetables. I'm rather fond of tomato myself. Then, you combine it all in a big pot and add beef broth and water. The result is never the same twice, but it's almost always surprisingly tasty.
About thirty minutes later (an essential part of Panic stew is to get it ready FAST), it was ready to eat. Sasha had been intently exploring my home, and I had been sweating through nearly all of it. I'm not an especially weird person, but we all have those objects and things that we'd rather other people not see. Luckily, she didn't find (very many of) them, and soon we were sitting at my dining room table, tucking into Panic stew.
Sasha took a few bites, and her eyes widened. "Mmm! This is good."
I smiled. "Why, thank you. It's an old family recipe." I took a few bites myself.
Sasha looked up at me, and said "So, how did you end up running your own bar?"
I laughed. "End up? You make it sound like I settled. No, no, I wanted to open a bar. I was actually born way, way South; down in a little town in Alabama called Flomaton. I was never that great in school, but I was always pretty popular; folks like talking to me."
Sasha smiled at me through half-lidded eyes. "I can see that."
I continued. "After I graduated high school, me and my parents had a serious talk. My grandparents had just passed away, and it turned out I'd gotten a hefty chunk of inheritance. My parents knew I didn't enjoy school, so they asked if I'd rather do something else. I chose to go to bartending school. After I got out, I came to NYC to set up shop. I found this old, run-down two-story building in a half-way decent district, so I did the logical thing, and here we are."
"I noticed that you were serving Malises down there. You don't mind us?"
I raised an eyebrow. "You're here, aren't you? No, you fuzzies are alright in my book."
Sasha preened. "It's really more fluff than fuzz."
I shrugged "Semantics, semantics." I leaned forward on the table. "Do you mind if I ask a personal question?"
Sasha leaned on the table too. Of course, due to her muzzle, the effect was more pronounced. "Shoot."
I looked away and tapped on the table a few times. "If it wouldn't offend you overmuch... How do people become Malises? There's... A lot of theories, but no one really knows, and most of us are scared to ask."
Sasha blinked. "You are? That's silly. It's a little odd though..." She self-consciously played with one of her ears. "Well... You could say it's... Bodily fluids. Sweat, spit, blood, and... You know. If I were to say, get right up and bite your arm and break the skin, that'd put you well on the way."
My eyebrow went up again. "Have you been plotting?"
She smiled sweetly. "Keeping my options open. Skin contact will do it, too, but more slowly. If I just spit on you, it'd take a lot of saliva to initiate the change."
I had a few more bites of stew. "Lovely dinner conversation. So, it's like a virus, then?"
She giggled at my joke, and then shook her head. "No, it's not an infection. Just... Enough contact, and poof! You're a Malis."
"So, can Malises... Reproduce, or can they only convert humans?"
Sasha shrugged. "I've heard stories, but I haven't seen anyone. I suppose it's possible, though."
The conversation meandered from there. I was in excellent form, with witty ripostes, and interesting anecdotes. Sasha seemed to be having a swell time. She was laughing freely, and adding stories of her own. However, something was a little odd. I could tell that she was a little tipsy; I could recognize it a mile off. But she wasn't drunk, I could tell. Furthermore, she was acting oddly; whenever she laughed, she'd turn her head to one side and close that side's eye. Sometimes, she'd just smile shyly, look down, and reach up and twist a lock of her hair. I had never seen this behavior in a Malis before. After a while, long after the stew had been devoured, I said "So, do you live here, or just passing through?"
Sasha said "Just passing through. In fact, I'm looking for someone."
My heart sank a little, but I couldn't fathom why. "Oh? Who would that be?"
She broke eye contact, and said "My... Former mate."
I was interested. Malis social structure was new, but evolving fast. I said "Your mate?"
She spoke thickly. "Mmhmm." She swallowed. Her eyes were half-closed. "His name was John Billings. He was a cat. We lived in Chicago, for a while, until the riots. We got separated, and that was the last time I saw him. We always said that we'd go to New York someday, so I came looking for him."
Before I could stop myself, I said "How do you know he's still..." I managed to shut myself up, but not soon enough.
Sasha looked down at the table. "I... I don't. I don't even think he is. I just... I just don't know what else to do. I don't have a job, my car's on its last legs, and now that I'm here, I don't know what to do."
My heart went out to her. "Eh... Sasha, I could help with money. Jack of Diamond's been doing good this past month, and I can get you enough money for an apartment. Plus, I know a guy who's looking for an employee. I could recommend you."
I saw shining tears in Sasha's eyes. "Oh, Jack... That's so sweet!"
I raised my hands, palms up. "What can I say, I'm a sucker for a pretty face." It was out before I could stop it, and as I tried not to break out in a sweat, Sasha studied me intently. I glanced at a wall clock, and saw that it was past 10. I stood up, and yawned. "I don't know about you, but I'm going to hit the sack."
Sasha stood up too. "That sounds like an excellent idea."
I directed her to my second bathroom, and opened a new toothbrush for her. I went back to mine, and brushed thoroughly. I got into my pajamas, and made up the bed for her, and got some pillows and sheets for me on the couch. As I was putting up my couch's throw pillows in my bedroom closet, I heard Sasha come into the bedroom and hop into the bed. I turned around, and tried not to stare. Sasha apparently didn't have pajamas, and had simply disrobed down to her underwear. She lay stretched out on the bed with her eyes closed, and sighed, deeply. I gulped, and said "Uh... Alright, Sasha, I'll just be on the couch if you need me. The bathroom is the first door on your..."
Sasha slipped an arm beneath the covers. "Are you sure you have to sleep on the couch? This is a big bed..."
I desperately tried to focus on something, anything in order to avoid stretching my pajama bottoms, which would do zero to hide any action. "It'd probably be for the best if I slept in there. After all, you wouldn't want to..."
I never got to finish my sentence. Sasha sat up on the bed, and my eyes couldn't help but follow the bouncing. I subtly shifted the throw pillow I had in my hand to hide the growing evidence of my arousal. She wasn't making this easy, I thought. She spoke. "Oh... I understand. I get it." She looked down at herself. "If you were like this, it'd hurt your business. It's okay."
I had to say something. I sat down on the bed too. "Sasha, Sasha, it's not like that. Believe me, becoming a Malis would be worth the reward. It's just that... Well, you had a mate, and besides, you're kind of blitzed. I wouldn't want to..."
Sasha cut me off again, but this time instead of using her tongue to speak, she used it to depress mine. She had leaned across the bed with surprising speed, and had inserted her tongue into my open mouth. I opened my eyes wide in surprise for a moment, but then closed my eyes and kissed her back. It lasted about half a minute, before she broke off and slid across the bed. She turned my body a little, and sat in my lap, inadvertently shoving my throbbing erection to one side. She leaned her head forward, and whispered in my ear. "Sweetheart, John's in the past now, and tipsy or not, I'd still want you." After a breathy silence, she continued. "Do you want me, Jack?"
I reached my arms up, and caressed her furry back, eliciting a soft moan from her. I whispered in her ear. "Yes, Sasha, yes, a thousand times yes. If you're sure..."
She kissed me again, and her tongue came out to play. We held each other in that embrace for a timeless interval, just the other's warm body and the other's writhing tongue. I ran my hands up and down her back, feeling her soft fur part beneath my fingers. I reached up, and fondled her soft ears. Then, I felt Sasha's silky paw slip into my trousers, and take hold of my member, which had started to throb. She made a soft, cat-like noise into my throat, and began to stroke up and down. I lost focus for a moment as her smooth pads passed over the head, down the shaft, and tickled the base. Collecting my thoughts, I pressed my tongue into her muzzle, and breathlessly said "Feisty little minx, aren't you?"
She said nothing, just pressed harder against my tongue. I reached up with my hands to slowly undo her bra, and when it was hanging loose, I put my hands back down again to grip her ass, which I fondled lovingly. I spared a moment's attention to scratch the base of her tail. She giggled, and broke the embrace long enough to toss her bra away before squishing her breasts into me. I brought my hands from her back to her front, lovingly fondling her soft breasts. She leaned back and threw her head back to moan in excitement as I rubbed them softly, every once in a while lightly pinching her hard nipples, and rubbing the small expanse of bare skin around them. After a while, Sasha broke the kiss and made this odd snarling noise and pushed me down on the bed. Looming over me on her hands and knees, she panted "Enough! I can't take it anymore. Take me, Jack! Take me now!"
I smirked, and gripped her shoulders. "As you command, princess." I quickly rolled her over, so I was on top. She gasped in surprise, and then smiled widely. Then I stripped off my shirt, while Sasha helped with my pants. She was done first, and attacked my boxers with feral fury, shredding them with her claws and flinging the scraps aside. Soon, all our clothing was lying in a heap against the wall, and she was lying on my bed on her back with her legs spread. I was standing at the foot of the bed, completely naked, with my throbbing member fully exposed. From her position, she looked down at herself, and then up at me. She slowly winked, and crooked her finger at me.
I obliged, and slowly reached forward from the foot of the bed, and stroked her damp slit, which caused her to moan and thrust reflexively against my hand. I drummed my fingers on it, harder and harder, until I finally penetrated her. Sasha, apparently beyond words now, barked and moaned softly. I began to explore the inside of her treasure with my fingers, flying blind as it were, probing around her inner walls. Sasha was going into fits, bucking against my hand and running her paws up and down her body with wild abandon, whispering words I couldn't quite catch. I worked my hand out of her pussy and started to massage her clit, which had gotten perceptively bigger since I started. I lightly teased it, rubbing it first one way, then another, and then tickling it with outstretched fingers. Sasha finally squeaked, and grabbed my arms. She then pulled me from my standing position to one that put my head about level with her chest. She looked down at me through the valley of her bosom, and whispered "Please..."
I grinned widely. "I accept your invitation." I ran my hands up her hips to her breasts, which I playfully squeezed. I shifted my body further up on the bed, and softly took one of her nipples in my mouth, suckling gently. Sasha was making an odd, panting, grunting noise, and reached one hand down to stroke herself, and the other to cradle my head. I smiled. "Aw, does puppy want to play?"
Sasha nodded, thrusting her body against mine.
I smiled. "Alright, then. Let's play."
I mounted her fully now, and poised the head of my member at her slit, just barely making contact with her nether lips. I could feel her moisture beginning to leak out, but I restrained myself. I teasingly asked "Shall I put it in?"
Sasha moaned, and grunted "Yes! Oh, please, yes!"
I pushed a little harder. "Are you sure?"
Sasha howled, and, grabbing my ass, pushed me in herself. I slid in easily, her damp tunnel having been greatly moistened from our play. She howled again, but this time in satisfaction, not lust. For a moment, I simply enjoyed being inside her. She was extremely warm and tight, and deliciously moist. I pulled out to the head, and hilted myself on her again. She whimpered softly, and then her eyes shot open. "Wait, Jack, wait a second."
I was puzzled, and drew back a little. "What's the problem?"
She removed me from her, and rolled around, so she was lying on her stomach. Then, she hoisted herself up on her hands and knees, and shifted her adorable little tail. "Like this," she panted.
I scooted up to her, and stroked her pert little butt. "Oh, doggy-style. Almost ridiculously appropriate." I mounted her again, and slid my shaft up into her pussy.
She squealed, and wiggled her bum. "Again," she moaned. I slid out, accompanied by ropes of fluid, and then rammed myself back in. I began to hump in earnest then, to the flattering soundtrack of Sasha, who was howling, moaning, whimpering, and squealing as I hilted in and out of her repeatedly. I reached forward, and cupped her breasts.
I muttered in her ear "Are you a bitch?"
She screamed, and thrust her hips back against mine. "Yes! I'm a bitch!"
"Are you my bitch?"
"Yes! Yes, yes, yes! I'm your bitch!"
I grinned. "I like that... Say it again."
She moaned and whimpered, and yelled it again. "I'm your bitch! I'm your bitch!" It settled into a kind of mantra, as she began mumbling it under her breath. I felt her pussy pulse around my member, and I thrust harder, knowing the end was approaching, for the both of us. I began to feel a strange tingle in my manhood, but I ignored it, and humped faster. Sasha suddenly went quiet, merely grunting as I thrusted, but soon her grunts got higher, and faster, until she threw her head back and screamed, a shrill, animal sound, and her snatch gripped my member like a vise. I growled like an animal myself as I reached climax, hilting myself one final time before blowing the contents of my sack deep into her womb. We held our positions for maybe a minute, as the simultaneous orgasm suspended us like an electric current, before it shut off like a light and we collapsed, panting, on top of each other. For the past minute, Sasha's cum had been leaking around my member, and when we flopped onto the sheets, it prompted another rush of fluid.
I held her tightly as we recovered, and when I got back my faculty of speech, I gripped her bosoms softly, and said "God, Sasha... That was just... The best. That was the best, no doubt about it."
Sasha panted back "Oh, Jack, that was wonderful. Not even John filled me like that. Oh, god..."
I snuggled my face into the ruff of fur around her neck. "I'm a little disappointed, though."
Sasha looked over her shoulder, bewilderment showing on her face. "Disappointed?"
I coiled her tail around my hand, and smiled. "Disappointed that I don't have a curly little tail like you do."
Sasha smiled, and collapsed prone again. Her voice was muffled as she spoke to me. "Doesn't work like that. 'S random. You could end up a lion, a wolf, a gerbil, anything. But it would be nice to have a husky lover."
I smirked, and pushed myself in a little deeper. "What's the matter, I'm not dog enough for you?"
She moaned, and pressed back. "No, oh God, you're just fine... I mean, it'd be nice to have some cute ears to cuddle, or a wuvvable little tail to stroke..."
I petted her ears. "I can see the attraction."
She sighed, and after a moment, I realized she was asleep. I was about to say something, when I felt the velvet hammer of exhaustion hit me between the eyes. I was asleep in an instant.
The morning after, I stirred sleepily. I could feel fur brushing against my arm. I chuckled, and sleepily said "Stop it, Sasha. That tickles..."
I could feel my new lover move beneath me. "'S not me."
I closed my eyes harder. "Sure it's you. There's something fuzzy on my arm. If you want round two, I'm up for it, but at least wait until I'm awake."
Sasha wriggled her butt, moving me as well. "I said it's not me. Did you think to look?"
I muttered "Fine, fine," and pried my eyes open. I blinked blearily, thinking I had something stuck in my eye. I could see a riotous blur of black and orange, but that couldn't be right. Sasha was white and bluish, not black and orange. Summoning herculean effort, I raised myself on my knees, and kneaded my eyes. God, I felt fuzzy. I had always thought was just an expression, but I really did feel like I was covered in sensitive hair. Finally, I got my eyes open and working, and got a look at what was on my arm.
I think I hardly need insult you by telling you what I saw. If you can't gather what'd happened by the previous paragraph, you're probably just skimming this looking for dirty words. I assure you, I do this only for narrative consistency.
Apparently, sometime during the night, I'd absorbed enough of Sasha's juices to initiate the sea change necessary to become a Malis. Long, soft orange fur coated my limbs and back, while white covered the front of my torso and the underside of my appendages. My hands (paws?) and feet were black, looking like I was wearing fuzzy gloves. I twitched in surprise, and saw something else twitch out of the corner of my eye. I reached behind me, and caught this long... Thing. Bringing it into the light, I saw it was my tail. It was longer than Sasha's and not curly. It was orange, too, except for the tip, which had a splash of white. I crossed my eyes, just to make sure. Yep; I was looking down a long muzzle. I was a fox.
Sasha rolled over sleepily, and shrieked when she saw me. She scrabbled back swiftly, and studied me from the headboard. "Jack?"
I studied my new hands. "Yeah... Yeah, baby, it's me. I guess the thing happened during the night."
She slowly edged her paws forward, until she touched me lightly on the tip of my snout. She almost recoiled, but stopped. She ran her paws forward, and then up to my ears, which she started to fondle. I smiled, despite myself. "Ah... That feels nice."
Sasha opened her mouth a little in awe, and her smile widened and widened as she ran her paws over my new body. I stifled a chuckle when she hugged my tail, and fell over backwards. I pounced on her, and we rolled around in ecstatic bliss for a while, until she rolled on top of me, and pinned me down. She started kissing me all over, and I returned the favor where I could. After a while, she just laid her head on my chest and let me rub her ears. Soon, she spoke. "Well, I guess I don't need that apartment, do I?"
I scratched the base of her tail, making her wag. "Looks like that. And about that job... Would you mind working here? The old Jack could use a sexy young thing like you. I'm thinking... Low cut shirt, and frilly skirt. And every time you bend over to pick up a glass, your curly little tail lifts your dress..."
She dug her claws into my chest playfully. "You pervert! I can just tell you've got that picture in your head. Fine, I'll work for you. But I want a 401K, weekends off, and an employee's discount."
I laughed. "Done." I grasped her shoulders, and pulled her head to mine. I kissed the top of her head, and said "You're just lucky you caught me at the best time of my life."