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Standard disclaimer:

This is a furry adult story containing gay males in sexual situations as well as explicit language and descriptions. No kids are allowed so this story is only for those who are 18/21 or whatever the age is at your legislation. If you are not of the legal age, you shouldn't view this story because you might lose your innocence. Also, by browsing this story you have done so by your own consent and wish to view such material. if you do not wish to view such material you should leave this site immediately.

*

Hello everyone, and welcome to the latest chapter!

If you have any comments, please don't hesitate to drop a few lines once you're done. It'll help me to be a better writer, and all the feedback amuses me a great deal. Watches, faves and votes and much appreciated as well.

The date continues, stay at the edge of your seats, everyone!

Have a fun read!

*

Victor tipped the tall glass of water on his paw and gave me a smile.

"I'm glad we made it, too," he grinned. "Been a long time since I was out like this, you know."

I smiled back to him as well.

"Could say the same for me," I replied, much to Victor's nodding agreement.

"Not playing the field much?" the Dobie smirked.

I wanted to give him some cheesy comment about Victor playing the field two times a week, according to his own statement, but decided against it, and simply snuffled.

"Not much time for free, happyhappy gay life, "I shrugged and flopped my ears for emphasis.

"Having a steady job kinda does it, yeah," Victor mused. "It's not something you think's gonna happen when you're 20 and in college, but eventually, it gets to most of us in the end. You become a soccer dad, without the cubs or the SUV."

I snickered at Victor's comparison.

"Yeah...such a downfall," I chuckled, agreeing to the fact that the youthful gay utopias rarely came to be the truth.

Take carefree sex, for example. Sure, college was full of out 'n proud furs and those who were willing to "take no labels" after a few beers, sure, cock and pussy and ass was everywhere for everyone to take their pick. But, after just that many half-drunken fumbles, a few crushes and an equal number of broken hearts later, even the most starry-eyed optimist would have to realize a few things, such as that nothing simply dropped to your paws as a pretty, sanitized package that contained everything you wanted to have. No-strings attached sex was possible, sure, but when you ended up in bed with that guy who sat two rows down from you in a lecture, and then that same guy ended up in bed with that wolf from Politics, then that started to have implications, and when you saw then walking paw in paw wearing matching rainbow scarves...that was no longer beautiful "awwww!" display of proud alternative sexuality. It became a chase and a race to get the best ass or the cutest smile or the sharpest wit, and then you clung onto what you got, and there were definitely strings, and suddenly you started to realize that you wanted strings, as many of them as possible, and that each and every one of them breaking would hurt.

And here I was, having quite the nice date with someone I had a string attached to, even if it was a singular one, our association consisting of a one-night stand, some obsessing over that said one-night stand as well as a few late evening Facebook chats, and now this date that was clocking in 15 minutes in, and already we were complaining about how ordinary and unexciting our lives were. Wasn't this supposed to be exciting? We were having a date, checking each other out and having a good time in the process, I hoped. I was having a good time, sure I was, dinner, company, lots of smiling and ear-flicking, a little bit of wine was in the plans, too, if I would have my way. Better not to dwell.

"Yeps," his voice sounded sharp in my ears, suddenly, and I almost jumped at it, fixing my eyes to his, and I wondered whether I had seemed vacant for a little while, poised a I was, wondering about my lost youthful optimism when it came to interfursonal relationships.

I smiled quickly.

"Yeah, not too much into hanging out in places like the Ramrod either," I added quickly, not wanting to sound like a too much of a loose case...well...loose cock in my case...I didn't want to think about being a loose ass.

"It can get funny on occasion, that kind of a place," Victor winked.

Heh.

"Well, sure," I chuckled quickly. "Plenty of stuff can happen."

Like meeting a Dobie, right?

The familiar coyote from a moment ago decided to show up again, bringing over a trayful of food with the direction of Rory Gliese's tummy attached for them.

"Here's your starters, sir, as ordered, salad, chicken soup with cinnamon, water and crackers," she gave me the inventory while laying down the goodies onto the table in front of me.

"Thank you," I smiled broadly, the scent of the spicy chicken already rising to my nose and making me feel ravenously hungry in record time.

The coyote's tail swished as she picked her tray and then gave us two an expectant look.

"Are you ready to order, sir?" she spoke to Victor.

"Yes, I think I am," the salad-snacking Dobie declared with a smile. "I'd like to have the salmon as a double, with lemon and the pepper, and the rice, but without the sauce, please."

Again he was watching his lines and again it was kind of cute.

"Salmon and rice, double, yes, sir," the coyote woman had her notepad out again and she did a few quick scribbled markings into it.

"Thank you," Victor added.

I quickly grabbed the menu from my lap and checked for any chicken main courses, because the very smell of that chicken soup was slowly convincing me that chicken was the way to go, and I wasn't too wrong in my assumption, when a familiar name popped up from the plastic-covered pages of that menu.

"I'll have a chicken tikka masala with fried rice and extra sauce, if you may," I added my own order, deciding that the chicken soup already was proving to me that chicken was the way to go.

"And one chicken tikka masala, yes, sir, have a nice meal, sir," the coyote turned to talk to me now, and I gave her my most courteous smile, and then she was off again.

I was left with the double treat of a Victor and a table full of food expecting me to consume them into my hungry leonine maw, and let's just say that after my meager lunch, the prospect of a really good proper meal was something I had been looking forward to all day. The soup was steaming hot and smelled great, making my whiskers wobble, and the side of the salad and the crackers I planned to crumble and mix with the hot chicken stock were also looking very delicious alright. The murky, spicy food looked even better than the salad that was served on a small plate and looked much like Victor's almost-finished portion.

I picked up my spoon and quickly scooped a taste of the soup, dipping my spoon into the bowl before bringing the wonderful-smelling concoction over to my maw. My tongue practically drooled when I opened my lips and took the first taste, its spicy tang exploding all over my maw as the hot fluid made love to my taste buds. A purr rumbled out of my chest, and Victor chuckled at the sight of me acting so much like the proverbial Cheshire cat while I enjoyed my dinner.

"Looks like you made the right choice," he looked at my steaming bowl in a way that was almost longing, and I wouldn't have been surprised to see him licking his lips.

I sure did that, I did, as I put my spoon into the bowl and breathed in slowly to let the fragrance and the aroma and the taste linger over my tongue and in my nose before it finally calmed down. It was washed away with a mawful of mineral water, soon to be followed by a refreshing forkful of salad.

"I think so," I smiled almost sheepishly after dapping the corners of my maw with a napkin.

"Looks like you like your chicken a lot." I stirred my soup a little, if only to get it to emit more of that wonderful scent.

"Yes, I am very much tempted by this chicken I must admit," I replied with a grin.

I concentrated on my soup of a brief moment, stirring it some more. I heard the click of a fork on plate while Victor tried to finish up his salad, and I smiled as I glimpsed him quickly.He seemed to take notice for he smiled back, too, through a mawful of salad, and flicked a tall ear at me.

"That does smell really good," he agreed.

"You want to have a taste?" I offered, waving a paw on my bowl.

"Well, sure," he flicked his ears again and fished out one of his own redundant spoons from the table by his paw before he reached over and recovered a small spoonful of the soup before he deposited it into his big, smiling maw.

The big Dobie rumbled and licked his lips again and licked the spoon, too, before he put it down to the table again and leaned back in his chair, seemingly relaxed and happy with himself for now.

"Yeah, I can see where you're going with that," Victor smirked.

"You like fish?" I wondered aloud now while playing with my salad.

"Sure, it's white meat, it's low on fat and tastes good with the right spices," the big Dobie replied, sounding like someone from home shopping network selling one of those Mr. T-endorsed products. "Got nothing against fish."

I suspected that Victor didn't have anything against a big, nice, juicy steak, either, but that was just me, maybe.

On the other paw, I also had in front of me a bowlful of delicious soup I decided to consume as fast as possible so as not to cause extra temptations for Victor. I picked up the crackers that had came as a side to the soup and broke them into the warm stock to give it a little bit of extra character, or so I liked to say, as I stirred to slowly liquefying fragments into the thickening mixture. Victor watched my ongoing actions curiously, though didn't speak anything for now.

"So, uh...," I decided after another toe-curling spoonful, "do you come here often?"

I flicked my ears as if to gesture about the restaurant, and got Victor's look in reply.

"Well, I've been here a couple of times...," he rubbed his chin as he wondered on my question, "remembered that they have a good kitchen, so I thought it would be a good place to invite you, too."

"It is nice," I beamed, my lips still tingling from the cinnamon in the soup. "Very nice. I don't think I could've chosen a nicer place."

"Wasn't sure if it was a good place for a...ah...you know...a date, but I don't see why not," he snuffled, in addition.

My tail coiled itself around a chair leg while I regarded the Dobie in front of me and nodded in agreement.

"Well I definitely can't see why not...good food, peaceful...I very much like it, thank you."

"I'm glad you do," Victor replied, watching me again, "I wasn't sure if this was the right kind of place for you but..."

I snuffled hissingly and simply smiled.

"All its missing is a few bean bags and movie posters and I'd never want to leave."

Victor raised his brow, much to my amusement, and I smiled over the rim of my glass of water.

"That's what a place called The Artes Liberales looked like," I snuffled in memory of the student place where I used to hang out in all my gay chic glory.

Berets were practically a dress code, I tell you.

"A student place?"

"Bingo," Victor seemed to know the type, much to my amusement.

"Yeah, that kinda places were pretty common in the east, too, "he mused, plucking a bean sprout from the fuzz under his nosepad, "I remember this place called Alkali....yeah, it was called Alkali, it was the hang out for all tech students back in college...economics students tended to gatecrash the place, in a sense."

The Dobie rumbled happily at the memory, and I smiled, too, enjoying watching Victor smiling like this, a genuine smile, a happy smile.

"They didn't have bean bags, though."

"You didn't have philosophers, then," I retaliated.

"Hahah," Victor smirked. "I guess we didn't...lots of physicists, though, wannabe ones at least, and a bunch of accountants guzzling down beer and dreaming of Wall Street."

"Just the way most English students dreamed of publishing their first novel, of course," I suggested with a flick of my ears, all between two spoonfuls of that delicious soup I was slowly becoming addicted to.

"You ever did that?" Victor's brow rose curiously.

"Nah, I found out that I was much better in reading books nobody else ever read and writing immensely boring essays about them rather than actually trying to write something of my own," I replied with briefly drooping ears.

"Oh," Victor explained.

"The same way I also discovered that our entire curriculum was about reading books nobody else ever read and writing immensely boring essays about them" I added with a small smile.

"Hahaha, that's the way it always happens once you become a college junior...the harsh realities," he chuckled.

"Too harsh for some, but at least we survived," I smiled, gesturing at us two as an unit, with my paw.

"That we did," Victor agreed with a nod. "Maybe didn't end up where we wanted but we're doing okay."

"Have to agree to that," I smiled.

He certainly wasn't wrong in his statement, I had to think as I spooned up some of the remaining soup from my bowl. Our brief lull in conversation was filled by the appearance of the coyote waiter, bringing a steaming plateful of fish and rice for Victor's enjoyment, as well as my order for chicken curry tikka masala, with extra sauce and fried rice. My appetite jumped up another notch as the spicy smells intensified, and I was probably practically drooling over my chin by the time she wished us a good meal and wandered off. She left us to be just the two of us again, a lion and a Dobie, sizing each other up over a dinner table.

Victor was watching his newly arrived meal with a hungry look that I had to admit looked quite...characteristic on his face, while he studied the nice-smelling portion that was his to deal with.

"That sure does look delicious," I commented, barely able to contain my urge to grab my fork and dig into my own plateful.

"It sure does," Victor smiled, "yours is great, too."

"I like it this way," I admired the sauce-covered pieces of juicy chicken with keenly gastronomic eyes.

"I can see why," Victor smirked.

"Well...," I picked up my new fork now, "I suppose we should just...dig in?"

"Thought you'd never ask," the Dobie's tall ears flicked happily.

*

Let's just say that the food was great, and the company was nice, and our talk was flowing, especially after Victor ordered a bottle of wine and told me that he was going to pay for it. He stopped any complaints from me with a glare that was enough to tell me that I would have to let him treat us to the wine, and that's how I let things go, but I did chime in with the counter-offer of paying for our desserts and the coffee, which Victor also couldn't counter after I pouted a little. Our topics were varied, including, but not limiting to, ice hockey, coffee, books, television, the local newspaper we both thought was crap, boxers - not versus briefs, thankfully - the prices of laundry services, that movie we both had seen last Friday on the television, and how school busses used to be more yellow back in the old days. Eclectic or not, our talk was smooth and with only small lulls in its process, and thanks to the quiet nature of the restaurant, it hardly wasn't a surprise that the time to check the bill out came only around nine pm.

The streets were cool, and slightly less busy now that shops had closed and most of the people on the move were planning to hit some of the bars, likely, we got to walk peacefully, stepping along the curb with a steady pace while still talking and talking. It was a nice continuation to our earlier time in the restaurant, warmed by the wine, and good times, of course. I watched Victor from the sidelines, the way he walked, powerfully, though without an explosive macho attitude to it, I had to give him kudos for that, but rather looking like he knew where he was going, and nothing would easily stop him from reaching that point.

We were still chatting and laughing on occasion, even when we reached the small square of parkland that valiantly survived amidst the invasion of high-rising development of the downtown district. Concrete switched to gravel under out paws as we walked, passing a bench where someone was sleeping but thankfully didn't ask us for any spare change we might have. Everything was a mysterious twilight cast by the lamps that had been made to look like they were genuine wrought iron and really old, and not just a romantic gesture brought on by nostalgia on behalf of the city council. There were dark trees, and a fountain that had been shut down for the winter but now that the temperatures didn't go below freezing, it was again spouting water from its cherubs and making quite the splash.

"I really like spring," Victor mused as we passed barely revitalized grasses and trees trying their best to bloom out their leaves, "it's...it reminds you of many things."

I smiled softly, my paws held close to my body for extra warmth, since I had forgotten my gloves.

"I love it too," I agreed with a smile, watching how Victor disappeared into a shadow and melded with the darkness for the duration of a couple of steps until we reached another light and again became part of this real world, taking our feline and canine shapes. "Everything smells great, too. Even here."

I snuffled for emphasis and got a smile from the big, dark Dobie.

"True...even here," he replied, and snuffled, too, his eyes scanning the perimeter of the place.

Gravel crunched under our shoes while we walked slowly along the path, watching the line of trees that were highlighted by the numerous neon signs looming at the distance beyond them, beckoning for furs to come and spend their money while having fun, probably with some alcohol involved in it, too. My belly was warm enough for the wine we had, and I didn't really feel like going anywhere with masses of furs entangled together. No, I quite liked it here at the moment, in the presence of the now rather quiet Dobie, with Victor.

"Even here," I added, my tail swishing behind me happily, despite the cool night air.

We still walked on, round the fountain, towards the neon lights, the other side of the park.

"Early still," Victor mused after another few quiet moments of nothing more than shuffling paws on the gravel.

"True," I recalled that it can't have been more than a quarter past nine.

"You...wanna go somewhere, maybe?" Victor spoke again.

My smile didn't falter, but on the back of my mind, I wondered. We had agreed on a dinner date, after all, without expressive provisions for anything but sharing a meal and talk. Anything beyond had not really been touched at, unless you counted plentiful affirmations of wanting to meet the other as a sign of wanting to do something besides eating. Those possibilities were exciting, sure, but I didn't want to sound strange, in case I read Victor's words wrongly. Maybe he wanted to go walking some further, or have a coffee at some nice place that stayed open late, or perhaps he'd suggest going to some club for a little while, to have a proper drink, and maybe dance, even. We had talked about dancing, or more like, the lack of skills in it, but what was funnier than really bad dancing, anyway? It was bound to end up hilarious with the right partner, after all...and here was a Dobie who was big enough to probably swoop half of the dance floor away if he'd shake his booty in the wrong direction.

Thinking about Victor's booty didn't help things at all, though, made them more confusing, more like. At least I couldn't really see it at the moment, rather, it was hidden underneath his clothing, and I was seeing him from the waist up, anyway, watching his eyes as he spoke, not his rump.

Thus, I finally spoke.

"Do you have something in mind?" I asked in a steady voice, still holding his gaze.

Victor's eyes gleamed in the semi-darkness as he watched me in return, still not speaking, but he was there, definitely. I could hear every breath from him, and feel them tickle my whiskers, a little, but it was there, and I saw him, too, as a clear shadow cast by the romantic lamppost behind us.

"Maybe, "he replied in a low, rumbling voice.

*

And here's the second part, and the date CONTINUES, so stay tuned! ;)

If you have any comments, please don't hesitate to drop a few lines. It'll help me to become a better writer, and all feedback amuses me greatly.

Cheerio!