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As far as Kelly was concerned, it was just another Tuesday. Drive to Copy Copy without yawning more than ten times, prep the little store for opening, then lean on the counter. If he were working on a story, he'd use the time to write, otherwise he'd take out a book and read, watching the clock inch from 6 am to 7:30. No customer ever needed to make copies before 7:30, or if they did, they went to the big 24-hour place two miles down the road. But Alyssa insisted they open at six, because they also offered mailing services and someone might need to mail something. Maybe they would even need to copy it and then mail the copy.

That would work a lot better, Kelly thought, stifling a yawn, if the store actually mentioned anywhere out front that they offered mailing services. But even though he and Shanti, the fruit bat he shared counter duty with, had brought it up to the owner more than once, she met any suggestions they had with an earnest nod and a condescending, "That's a very good idea." Then she ignored whatever they'd said and affected to have forgotten it if they brought it up again.

So the mouse took turns opening the shop with Shanti, the two of them trading the early hour and a half even though they were technically both supposed to be there. Alyssa never came into the shop before nine, so whoever wasn't opening would show up around 7:30 with a giant latte from Moxie's (which opened at seven) for the other.

Kelly was reading on the counter when he heard the tinkle of the front door and looked up with some surprise. The clock read 6:55. "Couldn't sleep?" he asked Shanti. "Or didn't sleep?"

The bat grinned, tossing his backpack behind the counter. "Oh, I slept, but today I couldn't wait to get in here." He glanced at the clock and spread a wing behind Kelly's back. "Half an hour? Plenty of time."

"For what? Uh...hey," Kelly said, as the bat scrunched himself under the counter, down on his knees, and started to unfasten the mouse's pants. Kelly tried to pull back, but Shanti's wings were surprisingly strong. He held the mouse in place, eyes gleaming up from the shadowy underside of the counter.

"Just chill," Shanti said, and tugged Kelly's pants down to his knees.

"What the--" Kelly braced himself on the counter as the bat's warm fingers closed around his sheath. He looked wildly around the deserted shop. "Uh. Shanti?"

The bat didn't respond. Kelly stared out the front window at the sidewalk as he felt fingers slide up and down his rapidly stiffening ridge. The bat's other wing wrapped around his rear, at least making him semi-decent if anyone should come in from the back. A hysterical giggle bubbled up from him at the thought, his whole body tingling.

He'd known Shanti was gay; the bat talked about his nights out at the clubs and the young men he'd spent the night, or the hour, with. But Kelly'd always been fairly reticent about his own sexuality, and Shanti had never pressed, nor dropped any hints that he thought of Kelly as anything but a co-worker.

Clearly, those thoughts had come to him in force the previous night. Not only was he sliding gentle fingers along Kelly's now-exposed shaft, but...was that...

Oh, yeah. Kelly could remember the one time he'd had a blow job, at the wild graduation party his friend Stomper'd thrown. In the thirteen months since, he'd tried to recreate the sensations any number of ways, but now that he felt the warm, wet mouth enfold his tip, he realized how bad his attempts had been. "Oh, God," he moaned.

He heard Shanti chuckle from under the counter and make a soft "mmmm." The bat slid his muzzle further down Kelly's rigid member, freeing his wing to join the other on Kelly's backside. His fingers traced through the fur under the mouse's tail, something that had definitely not been a component of that earlier blow job, something that made Kelly whimper and clutch more tightly to the counter. He was starting to worry that his knees would give out.

Even though he was staring straight ahead, he wasn't actually seeing anything in front of him, so it came as a shock when the front doorbell jingled again. He focused with some difficulty on the figure walking toward him, a plump but definitely attractive coyote in a light green dress with a matching hat.

Shanti took his muzzle off Kelly's shaft long enough to mutter, "...the hell?"

The respite gave Kelly a chance to breathe, think, and talk. "Hello, Mrs. Randolph," he said. "You're in early today."

The assurance that it wasn't the boss was apparently enough for Shanti. He grabbed Kelly's rear and resumed that delicious, electrifying sucking. "Ahh! What can I, what can I do for you today? Mrs. Randolph." Kelly gritted his teeth, forcing his muzzle into what he hoped was a non-threatening smile. His breath sounded like a steam engine to him, forced out through his nostrils.

Mrs. Randolph was smiling at him in a most unusual way. Usually, she came in to copy the fliers for her charity events, mind occupied by a dozen things at once, never more than cordial. But today she was moving as though in a dream, a lazy smile tickling at her whiskers, her eyes fixed on Kelly's to the point that he would have been uncomfortable if he hadn't been focused with all his might on not letting her see that Shanti was sucking him off under the counter.

The bat grabbed Kelly's ropelike tail and used the tip to tickle his balls just at that moment, making the mouse jump. "Ahh! Sorry," he said to Mrs. Randolph. "I, uh, what, uh, what..." He couldn't make himself form words.

She leaned forward over the counter. Kelly leaned forward to block her from seeing Shanti, which had the unintended effect of forcing his shaft further into the bat's muzzle. He heard Shanti's muffled, "Mmph," and coughed to cover it, unable to stop himself from fidgeting as the bat reoriented himself around Kelly. If Mrs. Randolph didn't leave soon, she was going to see a moaning, convulsing mouse. She'd probably think he was having a seizure.

"You're a naughty boy," she said.

Kelly froze. Could she smell what was going on? Coyotes had good noses. His mind, already burdened with monitoring the sensations on his member and keeping his upper half as stoic as possible, refused to give him any words to work with. "Ah..." he said. "Uh..."

"I like naughty boys," the coyote whispered, and before Kelly could react, she had reached across the counter, grabbed the back of his head, and planted her muzzle on his.

"Mmmmf!" He couldn't pull back, not with Shanti bringing him closer and closer to exploding and holding him in place besides. She turned her muzzle and forced her tongue against his. He noticed that her eyes were closed. She didn't taste bad: musky and female, as good as the few other girls Kelly had kissed. The addition of the kiss to Shanti's enthusiastic slurping made his body tense all over, until he expected sparks to fly from his fur.

The coyote made a low, happy rumble, and reached up to shove her paw down his shirt, warm fingers rubbing over the white fur that covered the mouse's skinny chest. Trapped, Kelly squirmed to try to relieve the pressure on his collar, but he was now held good and tight against the counter. Shanti's wings had tightened around his lower half, and for a society lady, Mrs. Randolph was proving to be surprisingly strong.

She moaned against him, and Kelly moaned back. His legs shook, but he had the impression that even if they gave out, Mrs. Randolph would hold him up. She kept exploring his mouth with her tongue, the way Shanti was exploring his member as the bat's lips slid up and down it. Kelly moaned again, his shaft as tight and hard as he could ever remember it being, riding the crest of arousal up, up, and up, his body shivering.

With a shuddering moan, he jerked his hips against Shanti and came, convulsing in quick, sharp thrusts that emptied him into the bat's mouth. Mrs. Randolph held him tight through it, seeming to understand what was going on, her tongue licking avidly as though she could taste it too. Kelly's moans turned to panting whimpers, until his climax finally began to recede.

Shanti let him go, but Mrs. Randolph continued to hold him. Out of the corner of his eye, Kelly could see the bat licking his lips and grinning. One wing patted Kelly on his bare rump. Kelly grinned back. This was like something that might happen in a story. Except in a story, they would have been interrupted by now. By a customer, or by...

"Mirelli!"

Mrs. Randolph broke the kiss as if the sharp female voice had physically come between them. Kelly jumped, and started to turn around, remembered that his pants were down, and struggled to pull them up instead.

"What is going on here?" Alyssa's voice was coming closer. The weasel sounded pissed. She must've been in the back office all this time. Frantically, Kelly tried to fasten his pants, but his fingers fell over themselves.

"Oh," Mrs. Randolph said, "don't be so hard on the boy. I started it."

"Really." Alyssa came up to the counter. "Did you take his pants off, too?" She smoothed down the conservative blue suit jacket and skirt she wore, and folded her arms.

"Not yet," the coyote said with a coy grin, peering down as she leaned over the counter.

"Ramasutar, help her. Mirelli, my office. Now."

Kelly got his pants fastened as Shanti said, "How can I help you, Mrs. Randolph?" As he was trudging back toward the owner's office, he heard the coyote say something that sounded suspiciously like, "you don't happen to have his phone number?"

Of all the days, he thought. First Shanti and Mrs. Randolph jump all over him, which was odd enough, plus the fact that they couldn't wait until he was off work. Then Alyssa picks today of all days to come in early.

"Shut the door," she said as he walked in, shoulders slumped. He eased it closed and sat in the chair in front of her desk. She was sitting on the edge facing him rather than in her plush leather chair. "Now," she said, leaning closer so that he could smell her perfume and the underlying fruit scent of shampoo that together barely covered her natural musk, "maybe you can explain yourself."

"I didn't do anything," he said, ears burning. He couldn't get the horrified voice in his head to stop. You just had sex in the copy shop! At the counter! In public! She saw you! "I just, I mean, I came in and then Shanti and Mrs. Randolph just, um..." Usually the things he regretted saying sounded reasonable until he said them, but this time he couldn't even bring himself to finish the sentence.

"Who cares about them?" Alyssa leaned closer. "What I want to know is why I came in here at six in the morning and I didn't see you until I heard you outside."

That stilled Kelly's inside voice for a moment. Six in the morning? "Um...you were here?"

"Yes!" She said it as though it were obvious, as though she came in at six every morning to wait for him.

"I didn't...I mean, why were...you don't..." Kelly stuttered, now completely at a loss.

"Oh, Kelly," she growled, sliding forward off the desk and into his lap, "stop playing around." And then before he could do anything, her muzzle was squashed to his, her tongue thrusting into his mouth. One of her paws grabbed the back of his head, holding him in the kiss, while the other dove between them to work at the fastening he'd only just re-done. He made a muffled sound of protest, but that didn't even slow her down. In moments, her paw was inside his pants, squeezing his sheath and rubbing it with a little too much vigor.

What the hell is going on? Kelly squirmed, but she only pressed closer. Though he tried to break the kiss, she was the one who finally ended it, pulling her muzzle back and smiling, paw still working. "I know you've already been had once today," she said. "Don't tell me you youngsters don't have the stamina to go twice."

"Mrs. Lamino!"

"Call me Alyssa," she said huskily. Her smile widened. "There we go."

Kelly's sheath, despite its recent exercise and his horror of the situation, had risen to the weasel's clumsy stroking. "Mmm, yes," she said. "Now, there's no need for you to get in trouble for giving the customers and co-workers what they want. Not as long as you give the owner what she wants too, eh?"

"Uh," he said, which she must have taken as assent, because she plunged forward into his muzzle again, grabbing his paw and shoving it inside her shirt. He felt a button pop free and heard it clatter to the floor.

He really, really, really didn't want to touch her breast, but there it was, plump under his paw. She moved his fingers around the curve of it, rubbing across her stiff nipple, and then let go as though she'd shown him what to do and expected him to continue on his own. He didn't, until she pressed her chest into his paw firmly, and then he squeezed out of instinct. She moaned and began to grind her hips atop him.

Her paw had gotten him mostly hard by that time. She moved forward and rubbed against him, the touch revealing to a shocked kelly that she was wearing nothing under her skirt. A moment later, it seemed, he was inside her, her body bouncing up and down in his lap. She moaned, back arched, then darted forward disconcertingly to kiss him again.

By this time, Kelly was moving on automatic. His brain was no longer processing the specifics of the situation, as though it had given up and told the rest of his body, "you go on without me, I'll catch up when you're done." His boss was moaning into his muzzle as she rode up and down on his shaft, sucking in breath through her nose and blowing it out across his muzzle. So he thrust up into her, because that's what his body wanted to do, and he moaned back into her muzzle, because some small part of him was afraid she would be angry if she thought he wasn't enjoying himself.

As long as he didn't think about who the wildly bucking form atop him was, he did enjoy it. She was warm and supple atop him, and as he pushed his hips up into her, he felt his body warm and tingle. He moaned again, and squeezed her nipple, holding onto it as they thrust together into each other.

She ripped her muzzle from his and screamed, "Yes! Yes! Oh, God!"

Kelly almost fell backwards in his chair. He'd never had anyone scream that loudly, in his limited experience of sex. He folded his ears back--never mind whether it was rude or not--and focused on his own thrusts, on the idea that he was having sex twice in an hour, and definitely not on where he was having it or who was doing the screaming. He did manage to keep his arms around Alyssa as she writhed on his lap, and before she'd quite finished, he was shuddering, pressing his hips up against hers and moaning in his second climax of the morning.

"Oh, yeah," he heard Alyssa saying, dimly, as his body thrashed under her until it was once again spent. Dizziness overwhelmed him briefly. When he blinked his eyes, he was sitting in the chair beside the desk while Alyssa, looking very proper and businesslike and almost smug, was back in her usual place. If it were possible for weasels to purr, he thought, she would be purring. He realized slowly that his erection was still hanging out of his pants. He tucked it back in hurriedly, then was faced with the dilemma of how rude it would be to wipe his boss's scent off his paws right in front of her. He settled for clasping them in his lap.

"Well, Kelly, I think you should take the rest of the day off," Alyssa said. She looked rather dreamily at him. "You've put in enough work for now."

He stumbled out of there as quickly as he could, shaking his head to Shanti's "are you fired" and waving to Mrs. Randolph. His head was spinning, his knees were shaking, and he could barely get the key into his car door lock. Coffee, he thought as he dropped into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut. He needed coffee.

The words sexual harassment kept creeping into his head, but he shut them out, because thinking about them meant he would have to think about what had just happened. He stared fixedly ahead at the road until the familiar orange and yellow of Moxie's came into view, where he found a parking space two down from the door.

Normally, when Kelly walked into Moxie's, or a bookstore, or the copy shop, or anywhere, really, whoever might be in the place ignored him. He'd sometimes wished things were different, that he'd be the kind of guy who would make heads turn when he walked into a building. Now, when he pushed open the door of Moxie's and heads did turn, he wished for nothing more than to disappear into the plush sofas to his left, or to run back out the door to his car.

By the time he'd thought this, it was already too late. The middle-aged lady ringtail on the couch had gotten up and was already close to him, murmuring, "Can I buy you a coffee?" Two other ladies, a skunk and a possum, had broken off their talk by the magazine rack to start toward him with a gleam in their eyes. From his other side, a young ferret sidled up to him. Before Kelly could say anything to any of them, the ferret put his paw right on Kelly's rear and winked at him.

Oh Mouse, Kelly thought, what in the name of Your Tail is going on here?

"Buzz off," the ringtail told the ferret. "I saw him first."

"You'd best all be clearin' off," the skunk said. "Unless you want a snootful of Sondra."

"Yeah," said the possum. "He's ours." She reached out and grabbed the front of Kelly's shirt. He struggled to free himself from her surprisingly strong grip.

"Ours?" The skunk turned to her friend. "We ain't sharin', sweetheart."

"What? You said we'd share him."

"In your dreams," the ferret chimed in. "He's going with me. Aren't you, darling?"

"No, listen," Kelly said.

"See?" the ringtail said. She slipped two fingers inside his waistband, pulling him toward her. "He's not a faggot. So just get your paw off his ass."

"Why don't you get your paw out of his pants?" the skunk said.

The ringtail glared at her, while Kelly tried to extricate himself.

"All right, ladies," a deep voice said. Kelly and his four assailants looked up at the barista, a tall coyote whose narrowed eyes and clenched jaw cleared a circle around Kelly as easily as if he'd physically swept the others away. He took Kelly's paw. "C'mon, Kelly," he said. "I know your order."

"Thank you." Kelly exhaled once they'd left the three ladies and the ferret behind. Dimly, he could hear them squabbling behind him. "This has been one crazy day--hey, um, okay," he said as the coyote pulled him past the counter into the hallway at the back of the shop. "Is there a--no, wait, not you too."

The coyote had pushed him into the men's room and closed the door behind them, locking it deftly. He crossed the small room to where Kelly had shrunk into a corner and wrapped his arms around the mouse. "I just wanted you all to myself," he said, nuzzling Kelly's ears.

"No, hang on," Kelly said. "There's something wrong, Francis? Ferdinand? I, uh..."

"Hey," the coyote said, and spun him around. "I told you, I know what you want."

"But I..." Kelly gasped as the coyote's paw found his sheath, which was now starting to feel the effects of its unprecedented workout. Fingers rubbed through his pants and then unfastened them.

"Smells like you've already been at it today," the coyote said. "Just a little more won't hurt, right?"

"Uhh," Kelly moaned. His pants dropped to the floor. The coyote's fingers were far more skilled than Shanti's caresses had been. "I...I don't know..." His protests died out. He was getting hard again, the rubbing overriding the soreness, and though he knew he shouldn't let this happen, he was actually enjoying it. What was more, it was starting to erase the memory of his last lovemaking. That might actually be worth it. And he had had fantasies like this...

"Just ask me to stop and I will," the coyote breathed into his ear, paw pumping away. Kelly felt the coyote's other paw move behind him, heard another pair of pants fall to the floor, and then the liquid squirt of something from the sink. "Trust me, this'll be better than that femme you were with."

Kelly squeezed his eyes shut to get the images out of his brain. A paw slapped something cool and slick under his tail and rubbed there, fingers pressing until they penetrated him, making him tense, making his erection jump in the warm paw that was stroking it.

He heard and felt the coyote's satisfied rumble in his ear. "You like that, you're gonna love this," he growled softly. Kelly knew what was coming, but he still gasped at the hot touch that replaced the probing finger, the thick hard length that shoved into him. He whimpered, despite the lubrication, but the discomfort faded quickly under a tide of arousal. The coyote's thrusts pushed him against the wall, even with both paws bracing himself.

"Rrf," the coyote panted, his breath hot on Kelly's thin ears. "First time?"

Kelly whimpered again, leaning his head into the warmth. "With a real person," he panted, "yeah."

"Funny," the coyote grunted, pushing in harder. "Y'always seemed...like the type...'kay...won't tie ya, then."

Kelly tried to respond, but all that came out was a squeak. His body was being pressed hard against the tile, his shaft throbbing in the coyote's tight, pumping paw. His legs twitched, muscles contracting in sympathy to the pulsing in his groin. They kicked slightly as he was lifted off the floor by the force of the coyote's thrusts, sliding up the cold tile wall.

"Uhh!" Kelly's chest was squashed into the wall, his hips trapped between the coyote's driving shaft and his pumping paw. He squirmed, momentarily helpless against the wall, and then his body tensed and shuddered for the third time that morning. What little remaining seed was in him splashed against the wall, dribbling down the tile as the coyote's warmth filled his rear.

True to his word, the coyote pressed hard into Kelly, all the way up to his knot, but didn't complete the tie. The range of grunts and moans he made was truly amazing: deep bass rumbles and throaty growls that ended in high, sharp barks, punctuated by low, moaning exhalations. He was definitely the kind of person whose neighbors knew whenever he came.

Kelly's feet touched the ground again. The coyote held onto him, pulling slowly out, then left Kelly on his unsteady feet while he grabbed some paper towels, moistened them, and cleaned his erection off. Kelly just leaned against the tile in a daze, watching the shaft bob up and down and thinking, that was just in me. Holy Mouse's Whiskers.

"It's Franz," the coyote said with a grin. He pulled his pants up. "Go 'head and clean up. I'll get a latte for ya when you go. On the house."

"Thanks," Kelly said. "Can I...go out the back?"

"Good idea." Franz flashed him a grin and some tongue, and then slipped out the door. In the hallway, Kelly heard a faint clamor, and Franz's voice saying, "Settle down, settle down."

Using the same method the coyote had, he cleaned himself up. By the time he was done, Franz had come back with his latte, and an offer of protection to the back door. Kelly took it gratefully, finding it ironic that the only people he could trust were people who'd already had their way with him. At that rate, his bemused mind calculated, he would have to have sex with some ten or twelve more people before he could resume his normal routine. And would this have to happen every day?

He had to admit that he liked the protective way Franz held an arm over him. And he liked the attention that Mrs. Randolph and Shanti had paid to him. Certainly he wouldn't mind that every morning. The rest he could do without, and maybe he didn't want it quite every day, as he was starting to feel more than a little sore in several places that had been worked harder than they had in, well, ever. But still, some of it, yes, some of it he could definitely appreciate.

Back at his car, he took long drinks of his latte. By the time he turned in to his apartment's parking lot, he was almost thinking clearly again. The ferret couple who lived next door to him was just walking out on their own way to work. He sat and watched them, unwilling to risk stepping out in front of them, at the same time strangely intrigued at the thought of both of them jumping him, trying to take his clothes off and go at him there in the parking lot. Or maybe dragging him back up to their apartment...

It was a sign of how tired his sheath was that it didn't even get hard at that thought. Usually he came up with a couple dozen fantasies a day, selected his favorites, and pawed off to them at night. Sometimes he wrote them down, too. This whole day, so far, had been like a huge, elaborate fantasy of his. For some reason, everyone found him irresistible.

When the parking lot was clear, he ran up the stairs to his apartment, composing the story in his head already. "Pheromones Gone Wild." No, no, how about, "Irresistible." He could start it like that superhero movie, as a mystery. He unlocked the door, slipped inside, slammed the door and locked it again.

"Back already?"

He whirled. A red fox in rumpled nightshirt and boxers stood at the kitchen counter, munching a Pop-Tart. Kelly eyed him warily. "Hey, Jorgy," he said, edging along the wall toward his bedroom door.

"Hey. 'Sup, copy shop, like, closed?"

Jorgy showed no signs of treating him any differently than he had the night before, or the night before that. In fact, his roommate was the only person so far Kelly had met today who seemed to be acting completely normal. This struck him as slightly suspicious. "I got sent home."

The fox flicked an ear and tilted his muzzle. "Fired? They find out what you were writing at work?"

Kelly shook his head. "Nah. It's just...it's been a weird day." He looked closer. "You sure you don't feel like...uh..."

"Like what?" Jorgy shook his head. "You're acting all jumpy. Well, more so than normal. What's goin' on?"

So Kelly told him. Jorgy listened with mounting incredulity and a widening grin. "Holy Fox's Tail," he said when Kelly was done. "You're like, in one of your own stories."

"I know!" Kelly folded his arms. "Except you don't seem to be affected."

"Ah, I see ya every day. If I were gay and wanted a piece of your tail, I could get it whenever." Jorgy gulped from a glass of milk and wiped his muzzle. "You know, it almost sounds like..."

"Like what?" Kelly peered curiously at his friend, whose ears had perked straight up.

"I know what's going on," Jorgy said. He walked around the counter to the door and picked up the pile of mail. Tossing aside the circulars and junk mail, he held out a magazine to Kelly. "I saw this come in. That 'zine you got your smut published in hit the stands yesterday."

"The one from Sofawolf?" Kelly walked over and took it. "Oh!" he said. "So..."

"Exactly." Jorgy tapped the magazine. "You're in Heat."

(and you can be too! E-mail your story to [[email protected]](%5C) by November 30th and join the elite ranks of Sofawolf Smut Authors! NOTE: the events chronicled in this story are fiction. Your own experience as a published Heat author may vary.)