The Numerous Social Obligations of Rory Gliese
#9 of Hockey Hunk Season 2
Rory gets busy in the online world.
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Cheers!
*
Well hello there...
Now wasn't this curious alright. I'd only met the lynx twice, and we'd probably talked for as much as five minutes, and everything I knew of him was based on Mason's stories about him and his buddy getting into all kinds of mischievous frat boy adventures. Certainly I had not spent enough time with him to form any kind of acquaintance with him, at least not to an extent to warrant a Facebook acquaintance.
I frowned and looked at the screen, my pretty round ears flicking, and I rubbed my chin and wondered about the friend request. Haakon Kjerulf...twenty or so years old, six feet of compact muscle and nice butt and pretty mottles and a charming faux British accent and endless enthusiasm and an upper body that was apparently good enough to earn enough free drinks by displaying it in a gay bar for him to warrant a hangover in the next morning. Not that I had any personal experience of the said torso part of the big cat, I had to say, but there was so much that a Rory could imagine, of course.
Oh well...maybe he just liked adding up random furs he just happened to have met, you know, networking is the word of the day, after all, and maybe I'd know someone who knew someone who could help him get somewhere, or maybe vice versa. Just covering all of his bases, in a sense, I guess, or something like that. Guess he was just acting like any young guy of his age would, navigating in this mess of social relationships everyone was entangled to in one way or another.
Bah, that, I thought, made me sound so very much more important than I truly was. Maybe he just liked adding up random furs for the sake of adding everyone he met. Some furs were pretty lax when it came to things like personal privacy, I supposed.
Or maybe Haakon, too, wanted to ask me out, just like his buddy Mason had done earlier today...
Fuck...whatever had gone to that wolf, I'd have to sort that out soon, before my mind would go to all the wrong conclusions. I was pretty sure that I had understood him wrong in the first place, too, that Mason didn't want to ask me out for a nice dinner, a walk and a goodnight kiss, but it was just something wholly different, and simply twisted to something else in my overactive imagination.
Just maybe.
I knew that things would never go anywhere with this level of procrastination. I clicked quickly on the friend request to open up a small message that was attached to it, and leaned myself closer to the laptop screen to read the paragraph of text.
Hi, Rory!
_ _
Hope you don't mind if I add you up, Mason thinks you're
a cool dude so I thought it'd be okay to add you up.
_ _
Hahah.
Well, it was almost exactly the way I had imagined it to be. Rory Gliese, the dude who was cool even if he was old, cool enough so that the frat wolf would mention me to the lynx who would take the next logical step and be nice and ask me to be his Facebook friend. Ohh the wonders of modern world. Weren't there no longer furs you vaguely knew by face and maybe said hello to, without wanting to know everything about them and their personal lives? Where had that social layer disappeared?
Yeah, well, where did it go indeed? Maybe to my wall where even now a couple of former college buddies were telling about a new shade of fur dye or declaring how wonderful it was to have a really peaceful evening out without hanging around on Facebook, complete with fresh comments on the "cool, no Facebook" comments that had been added. They were furs that I had added up to my friends list when I first signed in on Facebook and didn't know what I was doing, and I still hadn't figured out just how did you remove from the list, so there they were, ghosts that kept flooding me with their interesting everyday events, as if it was of any consequence to me that someone called Bambi Calloway had switched to L'Oreal fur dye to get her highlights just right.
Still, what the hell, I decided, maybe Haakon would tell Mason that I was an old fart who didn't understand anything about the modern life when I had rejected his friendly approach, and I certainly didn't want to make things any more complicated with the wolf. Based on that probably bizarre logic, I simply clicked the accept button and got the customary
Rory Gliese and Haakon Kjerulf are now friends
_ _
message over to my wall.
Woo...new friends!
I snuffled and thought about now having that shower I had been planning to have before, but the sight of another familiar name on the "Friends online" column caught my attention.
Hmmm...
I flicked my ears, clicked on the name to open the chat box and sent out my super-Rory hello.
Rory Gliese says: Hi, Peter!
_ _
I clicked the send button and made a backflip with my tail and wondered whether he was sitting on his computer even now, oddly anxious to receive a reply. I didn't have to wait for longer than maybe thirty seconds, because I didn't even have the time to open a new tab and head out to check some news pages.
Peter Sinclair says: Row-ree, what's up?
_ _
I smiled at the small text box with a cougar in it, and typed on.
Rory Gliese says: Stalking you on Facebook.
_ _
Now wasn't this really cheeky of me.
Peter Sinclair says: Well you just caught me coming from the shower.
_ _
I chuckled and decided that I could as well be really cheeky, too.
Rory Gliese says: You look great coming out of the shower.
_ _
I clicked the send button and wondered whether such flirt was appropriate on a casual Facebook conversation, but then, yet, I wasn't joking. I'd seen the cougar in such a state plenty of times during our college years, and afterwards, so it was hardly such a strange thing to say, and besides, just who didn't like being called sexy?
Peter Sinclair says: Coming out of it smelling of formaldehyde might not be so nice though.
I briefly wondered how Peter managed to keep up his hygiene without his furs falling off, but decided that it wasn't an appropriate subject to joke about, so I pressed on.
Rory Gliese says: Maybe not, but I can always look.
_ _
Peter Sinclair says: Haha.
_ _
I always liked it when Peter laughed. Reminded me of how he used to be.
Rory Gliese says: How was your weekend?
_ _
There was a longish pause before he replied.
Peter Sinclair says: Charlene visited on Saturday.
_ _
A coolness touched the bottom of my belly, and my tail flicked nervously from side to side as I poked myself mentally for asking that particular question. I knew that it was an innocent thing to say, of course it was, but the answer was not one I had expected. I wasn't even sure whether I was supposed to comment anything particular to it, but then, perhaps pretending that he hadn't even said it wasn't very polite either.
Rory Gliese says: Was it an okay visit?
_ _
Hopefully that came out right.
Peter Sinclair says: Yeah, lots of photos and the like. The usual. She was just passing by anyway so it wasn't anything big.
_ _
I rubbed my chin and felt an urge to give the cougar a hug.
Rory Gliese says: I see.
_ _
Peter Sinclair says: It was nice to talk about George. I only cried for an hour after she left, so that's progress, right?
_ _
That same painful twinge in my belly returned, but I decided to be a brave lion, and not to become distracted.
Rory Gliese says: I guess it is, compared to earlier.
_ _
Peter Sinclair says: Exactly.
_ _
The silence felt harsh for quite some time, as I sat there and wondered whether I had already managed to ruin the mood by being such a curious cat. Then, again, I had asked and he had chosen to answer, and if the subject was George, then it had to be that, and I'd have to face the consequences.
Peter spoke again, then.
Peter Sinclair says: Anything funny happening to you lately, then, Row-ree?
_ _
Just what hadn't happened to me lately?
I a spur of the moment decision, I picked up a subject we had talked about before, and began to type.
Rory Gliese says: Well, I ran into someone I didn't expect to today.
_ _
Peter Sinclair says: Oh?
_ _
Rory Gliese says: Yeah, that Mistwillow guy, can you believe it, just like that?
_ _
Hopefully that was a thing exciting enough to share, without being as confusing and convoluted as the cases that were:
date and potential something with Victor Holden
the disturbance THAT WAS COBB HOLDEN AND WHO HAD RUINED MY DATE AND WHATEVER WITH VICTOR THAT'S MY VICTOR MY BROTHER HE'S MY MAN EVEN IF HE'S QUEER!
the invitation for a date by Mason Stephens, the straight frat wolf who seemed to be at least bi-curious about his straight co-worker Rory, unless it was all in Rory's head, of course
the friend invite from the aforementioned wolf's lynx friend Haakon, the same cute and sexually appealing straight boy who apparently got free drinks by showing off his body in gay bars for horny guys
For some reason it didn't feel right to talk about anything of the nature with Peter, not now, not now that George had been mentioned so directly, and it was never so easy to bring up someone new when you knew someone so well, the way I knew Peter, and in the ways I had known him for ten years now.
Peter Sinclair says: The tiger guy who was at your book shop the other day?
_ _
Rory Gliese says: The one and only.
_ _
Peter Sinclair says: How did that happen?
_ _
Rory Gliese says: Ran into him in a restaurant and guess he wanted to see a familiar face and invited me to sit with him and we drank coffee and talked.
_ _
And we had a nice time, we did, hehe.
Peter Sinclair says: Well, cool, I guess. Did he buy the coffee for you?
_ _
I snuffled and tapped the keys.
Rory Gliese says: No, we just ran into each other, we were quite independently there, hahah, what else?
_ _
Peter Sinclair says: Maybe he liked your ass the first time he saw you and tried to seize the opportunity when he ran into you.
_ _
I snuffled and shook my head at the cougar's words. That'd really been the last thing I needed anyway, another pair of eyes confirmedly ogling or possibly ogling at my arguably very nice and interesting lion butt, of course, but there was just so much eye action even I could take.
I smirked and typed.
Rory Gliese says: Doubt he even likes lion asses in the first place. No blips.
_ _
Come on, if any of you are of that kind of persuasion when it comes to the company you like to hold, you can't go on pretending that you don't scan everyone you meet in case you get that kind of vibe, because who doesn't want to feel like they're in a good, THAT kind of company? Maybe I was selfish like that, or horny like that, or have a crappy self esteem ,but the knowledge that others are out there as well had always been pretty nice for me, so yeah.
Peter Sinclair says: Good. Don't have to be jealous over my favorite lion ass quite yet then.
I felt a twinge of guilt at keeping back the fact that I had actually enjoyed a certain Dobie butt not 3 days earlier, and it had been great, and all that, but that was not something I wanted to tell Peter yet. A random fuck didn't make for a good conversation beyond a quick round of:
"So was he good?"
_ _
"Pretty good."
_ _
"Awesome sauce!"
_ _
"Thanks, guess I just got lucky."
_ _
I didn't really want to have that kind of a conversation with Peter, not with all the implications.
Rory Gliese says: Nope!
_ _
I hoped that it sounded cheeky enough, I mean, we were talking about two cheeks and a tail, after all...and who doesn't like butts, anyway? If Peter just happened to like mine especially much, that was all fine with me, of course it was, even if that meant the occasional day of bow-legged walking.
Peter Sinclair says: So you had nice time with this Willow guy?
_ _
Rory Gliese says: He's called Colin, actually.
_ _
Peter Sinclair says: Right, yeah, that's what it says on Wikipedia, too.
_ _
Rory Gliese says: Hahah.
_ _
Spurned to curiosity, I quickly typed "wiki" on my address bar and found the encyclopedia from my quick links and typed in "Lord Mistwillow" as soon as I got the search box up.
Peter Sinclair says: Must be weird, that, getting called a Lord on such a casual basis.
_ _
Rory Gliese says: Hah, must be, I dunno how I'd deal with that kind of a thing.
_ _
_ _
Lord Mistwillow
Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Lord Mistwillow (Pen name of Colin Gilbertsville) (1982, Boston) is an American author of fantasy novels, best known for his Caledon Rocks series. As of 2011, he has published six novels that have been sold over 115,000 copies and have been translated to 3 languages.
Mistwillow studied English language and literature in Boston University before embarking on his writing career. His first published book was called Autumn song of the Passed Fields that was published in 2003. This was followed by the first part of Caledon Rocks, the Mystic Cauldron in 2004 and the independent Barracks in 2007 that was shortlisted for the Pritchard A. Mallory Prize of Fantasy and Science Fiction in 2008.
Mistwillow has mentioned J.R.R. Tolkien, Kurt Vonnegut and Stephen King as his literary influences.
Personal life
Mistwillow currently lives in Boston. Mistwillow's interests are books, movies and classical music, as well as jazz. Mistwillow has also played chess and plays the piano as a hobby. He chose his pen name after a character in an unpublished early story he wrote.
Links
Aydrian's Hut, the official Caledon Rocks Wikipedia
Mistwillow's Twitter page
Official publisher page on Barracks
_ _
_ _
I quickly scanned the sparse text and the picture of the by now familiar bespectacled tiger sitting on a table with a big banner that read "Comic Con 2010" behind him. I chuckled at the stilted style and the few tidbits of information that hardly made a difference after spending a couple of hours with the tiger, taking to him like just any another fur, simple as that.
Peter Sinclair says: Guess he's used to that sort of thing by now, since it's his job.
_ _
Rory Gliese says: Yeah, guess so.
_ _
I heard the familiar chime of my phone and got up just enough to fetch it over before I sat down and put the phone down on the table as I sat down to read Peter's reply.
Peter Sinclair says: Guess it fits the type and the fanbase.
_ _
I noted with a smile that I had received a text from Victor, and clicked it open, ears and tail flicking happily.
Didn't dare to text when Cobb
around hes at shower now
and singing there like mad
_ _
I snuffled at the visual image as much as the cringe-worthy idea of the big Dobie brother blasting away off the top of his lungs, much to Victor's (and my imaginary) displeasure. I smiled and quickly tapped in a reply.
Wish it was us in that shower
and not him : )
_ _
I felt that a certain amount of cheeky determination to cheer Victor up with a suggestive text, even if it was probably a very silly thing to do, but hell, a lion's gotta do what he's gotta do to cheer up a Dobie with a brother issue that was of particularly oversized type in the form of the cub-like adult that was Cobb Holden.
Rory Gliese says: Yeah, the fans did seemed the sort, the ones I saw back at the bookshop.
_ _
Like a certain lynx...
Now, maybe under normal circumstances I wouldn't have been so evil as to think I such a way, but hey...he had asked me to be his Facebook buddy...that meant that I could check out his profile...and if there was believing what Marge had said about it, you could get a pretty good idea about what the lynx looked like under those clothes he usually wore.
I felt oddly naughty as I clicked on the lynx's name on my wall and opened up his front page, complete with his name on the top, a few Mason Stephens updates on his wall and, most of all, a picture of the lynx standing on some sort of a rocky cliff, with only sea behind him, the tawny cat wearing some sunglasses and what he wasn't wearing was a shirt.
Heheh...
Now wasn't this a nice way to welcome visitors to his profile, I decided as I appreciatively noted that the lynx certainly hadn't been overvalued by those he had tricked for drinks back in the Ramrod, for he certainly packed muscle that was not only obviously there, but he had probably put plenty of work to it and it really showed. Not to mention that the environment he had been photographed, probably his native Norway, I suspected, perfectly complimented his confident pose. Yeah, he stood there like the Viking he was, all ready to go and pillage some American lions...
Damn.
Peter Sinclair says: I can't believe how you kept a straight face through it all.
_ _
The picture still drew my eyes, and I was starting to feel a bit happy on the downstairs area as well, nothing to be too cheerful about, of course, but it was a nice feeling, even if coming from such an illicit source as ogling at the almost-stranger lynx showing off his great body on such a public photo.
My phone beeped, showing that Victor had answered my text.
Bet it'd be the shower
_ needing a shower_
after we'd be done
in there.
Now my Rory-hood started to peak out of its sheath and enter the confines of my boxers rather than its fuzzy folds of skin, and the friction thus inflicted on my barbed flesh certainly put extra warmth over to my cheeks.
I gave the front of my pants a quick, unashamed squeeze, and got busy with my phone again.
I'd sure like to wash
your back and your back there
if you know what I mean.
_ _
Cheesy, maybe, but I was feeling horny, and it just didn't right to write: "I sure would like to fuck your ass really hard in the shower until we blast it with cum."
I clicked "send" and then remembered that I had other company as well.
Rory Gliese says: I just tried to keep busy and out of the way for most part.
_ _
Like staring at the butt I couldn't see on that lynx picture, since he was facing the camera and not waving his ass at it.
Peter Sinclair says: Have to watch out for witches heheheh.
_ _
I snuffled at his comments and shook my head briefly at the silly cougar, feeling happy again that he was up for such talk after such a weekend.
Plink!
There was my phone again.
Mind if I'd wash your
back there in a really
slurpy way?
_ _
My cock twitched and pulsed rapidly into its full length and pressed itself up against my waistband as my imagination went to a sanctioned overdrive. It wasn't too difficult to imagine big Dobie paws over my hips, his thumbs nudging my butt cheeks apart just moments before I'd feel a hot breaths and then a slick, wide tongue on a mission to give a really interesting tongue bath to that place under my surely happily flicking tail.
Shit...
Well, he asked for it.
Only if I can do
yours too.
_ _
I put my phone down and let my eyes wander over some lynx pecs and felt my cock throb some more in my pants, and my ears flicked, and my tail looped itself around a chair leg, and I decided that there was no point in being a frustrated lion.
Rory Gliese says: The oldest witch I saw was like fifty.
_ _
Peter Sinclair says: Seriously?
_ _
I groped my cock through my pants and my boxers and hissed at the pleasurable feeling over my barbs.
_ _
Rory Gliese says: Yep!
_ _
Damn it.
I started to open my buttons, just as the phone beeped again.
*
And yes...indeed a gruffhanger has again occurred!
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