Popular by Gruffy

My tail wound itself around my right leg while I stood there, unmoving, still trying to take in this odd incident. Mason Stephens, the party-loving, easy-going, heavy-metal-listening wolf wanted to go out on a DATE with ME, Rory Gliese, the twenty-something, not too bad-looking, always happyhappy STRAIGHT lion. What on earth was happening? Was he really gay and desperately and secretly in love with me, and even though I was unattainable, he'd still want to have his best shot and simply ask me out? I wasn't even GAY...well, you know, not gay here, because that's nobody else's business, and I don't like somebody else's business.

Then, on the other paw, maybe he was straight but thought that I was GAY, and that a double deception of a straight guy asking the seemingly straight guy out might make me loose my cover and spill the dirty secret of my buttsex-enthusiastic ways. Could he be so cruel as to try to subject me into gay tests? Could the affable frat wolf even come up with something so wicked? Could it be a cruel on his part? Someone else's part? Why the hell would he even want to know whether the old fart of a lion at work was gay or not, it's not like I went on hitting on customers or...well, Mason. (Don't mention his hot friend Haakon, straight or not, delicious) Mason didn't seem to mind gay furs, though, as evident from his relatively fun time in the gay bar, or so he had told, with the free drinks and all...so what the hell was going on here???

Again, I must have appeared even more spaced out, because Mason seemed even more uncomfortable than before, and his tail had stopped its usual, slow sway, too.

"If you think it's a bad idea, Rory..."

I shook my head jerkily, and tried to smile.

"Well, just consider me a bit surprised," I tried, smiling broad enough to show teeth, the smile that wasn't in the happyhappy category but in the Faux Rory Gliese Happy in Personal Situations one, the one I had practiced with Graham all too much. "I wasn't expecting...that."

At least the wolf's face didn't darken any further, for now.

"Well, I guess it might sound a bit weird..."

"A bit," I nodded quickly. "Hey, but it's cool, I mean...yeah."

The wolf's ears perked a little.

"So...eh....ah...do you think you might...want to do it, then, Rory?" the wolf spoke again. "I mean, you...well, I guess it's so weird that I'm asking this but, since you must be so experienced and all...and I thought...I could ask Rory, and learn a few tricks and..."

My belly started to feel weird as his uncomfortable and oddly hopeful-sounding monologue was carried on with a lot of "uh"'s and "eh"'s and the odd rub of his knuckles over the side of his muzzle. I felt more confused than ever, too. Was he still trying to ask me out, to out me, or to actually go out with me, or fool around or...?

Oh, fuck, I wasn't up to dealing with something like this on a day like this.

"Hey, Mason," I lifted a paw to indicate that I had the turn to speak now, "are you trying to ask me out for a beer or something like that or something...well...something that means a bit more?"

Why couldn't I say it, to bring the gay into this conversation? Surely he wouldn't think me to be a 'phobe if I'd just spill it out that I thought he was asking me out on a boy date.

Mason's ears flicked rapidly.

"Well, if you think that'd be okay..."

I was about to open my muzzle to ask him what he really meant by this invitation, when the door to the back room opened and Crystal emerged, clad in her red duty shirt and jeans and with a flicky tail and ears to come with her generally fresh and enviously energetic demeanor.

"Hey boys!!!!!!" the mare nickered at us with a grin and slammed her elbows down to the low counter, making the tall girl lean down so that she actually now had to look up to me and Mason. "What're you guys up to here?"

My ears jumped, and I was sure that Mason, too, felt like crawling out of his skin, being interrupted like this.

For an insane second I wondered whether to simply tell her that Mason just asked me out, laugh it off, and make it into a joke. Then, he might've been serious and be seriously damaged by something so important to him being reduced into a joke.

We must have looked really guilty, but I did my best.

"Just chatting about stuff, it's a bit slow," I offered with a grin down to the peeping girl.

"Well, Mason," she turned to the wolf, "you shouldn't be slow, it's one pm, wasn't you supposed to be at the university at half past?"

Mason's ears flattened as his eyes jumped to the clock on the far wall to the right, on the other side of the downstairs section of the bookstore.

"Shit, I'm going to be late!" the frat wolf's tail lashed out behind him, "shit...uhh, Rory, catch you later?"

I felt like someone had smacked me over the head with a copy of The Collected Essays of Ralph Waldo Emerson", from the innocent way the wolf spoke to me, but I simply nodded.

"Sure, see you tomorrow."

Mason grabbed his clandestine paperback from under the counter and his MP3 player, and he was off, soon to disappear into the back room. I stared at the door for a while, not minding Crystal who moved past me and took over the wolf's place behind the counter.

"How're you, Rory?" she chimed happily, showing off her broad teeth as she grinned.

"I've got a hangover," my lie slipped, so very easily.

"On a Monday?!!"

Yeah, right, yeah.

"You'll find books about sprout germination from the Alternative Lifestyles Section, right next to the leather fetish books."

"Gee, thanks!" the funky-smelling wolf showed off a tongue piercing as he grinned broadly and went along, rainbow-striped shapeless cap and all, tail wagging broadly from side to side.

I watched that sway dully for a couple of seconds and turned my staring-prone eyes back to the comforting LCD glow of the cash register display. Marge, ever so cheerful, was purring ever so often, and I could see that her tail, too, moved around constantly like one of those strange penis-shaped sea animals...what do you call them...sea cucumbers?

"That'll be 17.95, please," she spoke and flashed a Seductive Marge Smile at the customer, a tiger who might not have been extremely built, but still looked really nice and sharp in his brown spring jacket and matching pants.

"Here you go, and the student card," the tiger handed out a twenty and a slip of plastic.

"Of course," Marge purred at the cute college kid and checked the picture on the card before she punched in the needed reduction, "and it'll be 15 dollars, sharp, and here you go...receipt and a fiver...do you want a bag?"

"Oh, I'm fine, I've got my backpack," I watched how the cutie took off his aforementioned bag and placed the hefty copy of Elementary Number Theory into the bag filled with papers, files, pocket calculators and Coke cans.

Marge tail-swayed and bosom-displayed for a few more moments before she gave him another smile and wished him safe journey and that he'd come back soon. The tiger disappeared with a quick wave of his paw. for a byebye, which was more than enough to make Marge purr again.

I snuffled and decided that whatever the risks of getting involved in a Marge attack, it was still worth it, to get at least some distraction from my mind that was filled with Victor worries, Mason worries, COBB HOLDEN WORRIES and general Rory angsting, and it wasn't even 2 pm yet.

"Looks like someone's having a very good day," I watched how Marge checked the till and then zeroed her cash register to wait for the next client to get lost into her direction.

The cougar tilted her head in my direction and flicked her ears daintily.

"Why wouldn't I have one, muffin?" she fluttered her eyelids deliberately.

"Well....," I stretched it out and rubbed my chin "thoughtfully", my tail flicking, "maybe you tried on some pants yesterday and they wouldn't fit."

Marge snapped her tail in the air, awfully close to my crotch, close enough to make my own tail jump, and some furs prickle on the back of my neck. At least I didn't bare my teeth at her.

"Uhh, touchy," she smirked and winked.

I tapped my claws against the shiny surface of the glass counter.

"How'bout you, going like that?" I accused her ruthlessly.

Marge snuffled.

"Rule number one for studmuffins, Rory. Never make fun of a girl's waistline, even less than her age, her boobs, her makeup and her choice of drinks," she lectured to me, and I had the good grace to appear guilty enough, too.

"Sorry, "I replied, "guess I was out of any better snarks and had to resort to dirty tricks."

The cougar flicked her ears suggestively.

"Now is the part where you will have to apologize to me and compliment me," she replied, "preferably telling me that you harbor a very secret attraction to me on a level so primal that it wants you to make tear my clothes off."

I almost blushed at her description, seriously. I had no idea where Marge got this stuff!

"Well uhh...maybe I don't want to risk a catfight with Goggy, so what if I leave it at saying that I am really, really, really sorry, and that you have a great...ahh...ass...and your tail moves like a..."

Sea cucumber.

_ _

"...like grass in a torrid wind," I put up my best poetic flair and tried to sound serious while I wasn't.

Marge rubbed her chin and observed me over her knuckles.

"Hmmm...I'm not too sure whether "you have a great ass" constitutes as a cute compliment or sexual harassment...but I think I'll let it be now...," she decided, and relaxed again, leaning against he counter.

I sighed a loud sigh of relief, and smirked at her, and she smiled back to me.

"Besides, I can't be bothered to be angry with you after such a nice weekend...Goggy had the Saturday off and it was just us...," she was purring again, "first the date on Friday...food, wine, dancing..."

A twinge of envy, almost, filled me as I listened to her dreamy tone as she recalled her dream date with her dream boyfriend, enough to remind me that my own date had been great all the way until DID I INTERRUPT YOU AND YOUR BUTT BUDDY VICTOR I'M SORRY I WANTED TO SURPRISE YOU!!!

"...rolling around on the silken sheets..."

My eyes almost bulged out of their sockets, and my words failed me for once while Marge continued, her purr rising ever the further.

"...soft tickle of a chin and as many orgasms as you can handle..."

Now my ears turned bright red on the furless insides, and that odd feeling in my belly intensified to the point where I was starting to feel like I would need to seek for a bucket. Maybe I could have blamed that for my imaginary hangover, too.

At least she stopped now, and simply stood there with a dreamy look on her face, probably recounting her many hours of sitting with her thighs spread and with a leopard tongue spelling out the alphabet around her girl bits over and over again.

Damn Marge, she seriously is putting way too interesting ideas into my mind sometimes, I had to conclude, as I wondered just where the beeswax candles, silken burgundy sheets and dirty-sounding French music had come into the mental image, since Marge certainly didn't come up with that information in her description of the fantastic oral sex session with her Goggy.

"Sounds like you had the perfect date," I hoped that would put some resolution into this conversation, maybe.

Where were the customers anyway? Since when did we have time to talk like this without anyone coming in to the cash registers, or asking for advice, or anything? It's as if we existed in some strange parallel dimension hidden from the rest of the world that kept revolving around us.

"Ohh yes...maybe we'll have a...recap, once Goggy comes from work tonight...," Marge winked.

"Guess he won't be minding you flirting with others then, since it gets you so worked up...", I recalled her earlier explanation on how getting frisky thoughts from ogling at hot dudes was only a positive thing when it came to her relationship with the artistic leopard.

"Exactly!" she smirked.

I snuffled, and finally received absolution in the form of the dazed wolf who had returned with a slim book titled "FREEGANISM - CHOICE OR ONLY HOPE?". The wolf insisted on paying with a huge pawful of coins which he spent a long time counting, and after I had re-checked that every dime and nickel actually made for the 9.95, my paws reeked of metal and I felt like I needed to bathe.

Maybe there was still some paw disinfectant hidden under the counter...

I was already going to search for it, before Marge interrupted me again.

"Hey, Rory!"

Me, halfway bent under the counter, looked up to the cougar now hovering above me.

"Yeah?"

Marge held something out in her paw for me, a red paper slip of some sort, and she smiled.

"Here's something for you."

I stood up from my hunch and took the offered paper into my paw.

"Well, what is it?" I turned the slip around for me to see and tried to read what was printed on it on a black, blocky typeface.

"It's a voucher, that's what it is!" she beamed before I had the time to actually put my eyes into reading, "it gets you a free dish of your choice, salad, water or soft drink, coffee and desert at The Lefties, when you show it to them."

My brow quirked.

"What's this for?"

"Goggy gets them every month, and he keeps giving them to me, and I go to have dinner there sometimes when I can't be bothered to cook, but I'm making us lasagna tonight, so I thought that I have that one to spare and since you've got that hangover and all, I thought you might want to take it really easy for one night," Marge explained, still smiling broadly and watching me clutch the gift voucher.

I cocked an ear at her. This was too good to be true.

"And what's the catch?" I tried to look a little bit stern as I inquired.

Marge chuckled.

"Paranoia doesn't really fit you, you know," she gave me a look.

"I wasn't being paranoid, "I retaliated, "It's just an awfully nice and awfully expensive gift you're offering me, is all."

"Well maybe I also don't want to stuff myself with greasy food five times a week," Marge shrugged, her tail flicking rapidly. "So it's yours now. Do whatever you want with it, but it's yours."

I gave the red slip of paper a quick glimpse and then gave Marge a look, and nodded.

"Well, thanks," I said, puzzled by this sudden nicety.

The clock mercifully finally reached four PM and it was my time to leave for the day, before the evening shift came on, and I found myself changing quickly into my street clothes, still deep in thoughts. I hadn't heard from Victor all day, and then there was the issue with Mason - whatever that was - and I was hungry, and tired, and bored, and...

And and and...

"You know, I think I might take on your offer," I spoke to Marge whom was just closing her locker on the other side of the locker room.

The cougar flicked an ear at me and grinned.

"Say hello to Goggy if you see him, tell him that Marge sent you," she chuckled, and I smiled back, at least a little genuine cheerfulness in my expression.

"Yeah, I better do that," I replied.

It wasn't too difficult to get to the place, considering that I knew the street where it was located, and that it was only a ten minutes' walk away from the bookshop, even in the busy afternoon downtown traffic. I checked the address from the voucher, and with a little bit of navigation and a short cut, I soon found myself standing in front of a relatively large restaurant, with a big, painted "THE LEFTIES" sign over the striped awning. In entered in the wake of a busily chatting Rottweiler and a German Shepherd girl, and found myself in...well...let's just say, it almost felt like home.

First off, there was some sort of a coffee bar section on the right side. They had dimmer lighting, green plants, chairs in small groups, a shelf for a messy collection of books and newspapers, and even one corner where there weren't chairs but bean bags to sit on, currently populated by a bunch of furs who couldn't have been anyone else but literature or language students. That I judged from the amount of knitted scarves, anyway, and from the odd wish to join them in a discussion of Chaucer's case markers while wearing my beret, my striped shirt, my corduroy pants and accessory eyeglasses that looked like they were stolen from John Lennon.

The left side was more of a traditional restaurant, with tables of various sizes and a few booths, sparsely populated yet, but a couple of waiters were walking around, taking orders and delivering plates with nice-smelling things on them. I realized that I was even more hungry than I had realized I was. I navigated my way to a nice booth off the side that seemed peaceful enough, and planted myself down on the comfortable leather couch-like seating. I finally got off my paws, and that was a relief after such a long day at the shop, and nothing short of an extreme bathroom requirement would make me move for the next two hours, I decided as soon as I felt the leather under my lion butt.

Ahhhhhhhh...

My mobile buzzed inside my pant's pocket, making my ears jump with the sudden vibrating sensation. I dug in and flipped the phone around to read the text that said: "YOU HAVE 1 NEW MESSAGE FROM: VICTOR HOLDEN"

My heart jumped at the sight of the familiar name, and I was already smiling as I held onto the phone and simply looked at the name on the small screen. Finally more news from Victor...and whatever he had to say, it didn't matter even if it was bad news, at least it was Victor news...well, I do hope that it was good news, maybe date news, but whatever, it was Victor!

I opened the message with a quick flick of a padded finger and read the actual text.

HI RORY U OK?

LONG WKEND W COBB

HE TRYING TO MAKE UP

FOR INTERUPT & WANTING

TO BE NICE TO U TOO AT LEAST

NOW AT WORK PEACEFUL HERE

Oh...

It didn't seem that Victor had had particularly nice time with his brother for the past two days, or so I gathered from the message. I wondered just how Cobb had been trying to "make up" for him barging in, BUT I COULD IMAGINE IT MIGHT HAVE TO DO WITH A LOT OF PRESENTS AND FOR RORY TOO FOR YOUR BOYFRIEND RORY! CAN I BE YOUR BEST MAN VICTOR CAN I?

My ears flattened at the echoing no-voice in my head that was giving me a hint of what Victor had to endure for the weekend, and I decided that a nice message would be in order to cheer the Dobie up a little bit. I clicked on "REPLY" and put my pads on the touchscreen and began to compose a suitable message in my head, wondering just what could be the best thing to say.

*ahem*

I looked up from the tiny screen and saw that a head had appeared above the backrest of the booth next to me, and eyes looked back to me, from a familiar face.

My paws froze.

Ohhh...Gruffhanger! And so many of them in one chapter! What's going to happen next? Don't forget to stay tuned for another chapter of I'm Still With the Hockey Hunk next Fridsay!

Meanwhile, why not to take a little effort and comment? It'll help to keep me on my toes, and increases everyone's enjoyment of the story. Votes, faces and watches are appreciated as well, since they help others to find this story as well.

Thank you for reading my story.

Cheerio!

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