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In the voice of Timothy Whiskers

The place that Keith picked out for us was really classy. Papa Richard's. Nothing about the place said "fast food". The dining room was carpetted, and the floor layout had that whole swirly thing going on, tables and chairs arranged like bubbles in a champagne glass. There was a prominent water feature in the center of the dining room -- a giant landscape made of what looked like shale, complete with tiny bushes and stones, and water dancing in a little pool at the top that fed dozens of little streams that trickled every which way across it. Gorgeous. Looked way too fancy to be a pizza place. Mice would not be welcome here, no sir, no how. I started feeling a little antsy as I approached the maitre d'. I had never been in a restaurant as a customer before. Not ever in my life. Was a little nervous about how it would go, especially the way that skunk behind the podium was eyeing me up. But I played it cool.

"Timothy Whiskers," I grinned. "Reservations for table 12, party of two. Six o'clock."

He looked down at his notes -- a little disdainfully, I thought -- and finally looked up again. "Right this way, sir."

He led me out to the middle of the dining room and took the little "Reserved" sign out of the card holder in the middle of the table. I scampered up to the tabletop and surveyed the land. Eh, not bad. Would have preferred one of the booths, or something closer to the water fountain. Still, this was a nice little out of the way spot, a place where a wolf and a mouse could have a nice little chat over some pepperoni.

I instinctively ducked out of the way as he set a pair of menus at the table. Guy didn't even ask if I'd need any help opening it. I tell you, no one cares about mice. "Can I start you with a drink or an appetizer while you wait for the rest of your party?"

"Nah, I'll wait. Just send my wolf on over when he gets here."

The skunk nodded and took his leave. Took me a bit of wrestling, but I managed the menu. It was one of those tri-fold deals. I'd arrived fashionably early -- didn't want to leave anything to chance if I was held up, and besides, I wanted some time to get my game plan together. If I wanted to get in with this fox -- and hell yeah I did -- I needed to woo this wolf of his, hard. All I really knew about him was he was a gourmand -- a real food snob. From the looks of things, we'd each get to order our own entrees here. I paced up and down the menu, looking for something palatable that would impress a first date. I was more than a little surprised by what was on offer here -- weird seafood monstrosities, teriyaki chicken and rice, what the -- sushi? Sushi pizza? They were joking, right? I looked longingly at the "Traditional Favorites" menu some twenty steps away...

No, no! Gotta show this guy I've got some class. Tom Turkey pizza? No... Serenghetti Sampler? Ew, no... Fish 'n chips? Beer battered cod, diced potato, and steamed peas, swimming in our malt vinegar... Oh puke. What in the hell was I doing here? I was out of my league. I had to get out of here. Create a diversion, pull the fire alarm, head for the --

Wait! There it was! Spinach... Feta cheese... Creamy garlic sauce... Salvation! Pretentious enough to make me look like a food snob, yet normal enough that I would voluntarily put it in my mouth! Score!

I carefully folded the menu back up again to disguise the fact that I had already had a peek. When he got here, I'd just flip it open, and like magic... oh! Why, they have that delightful -- what was it called again -- that delightful Spinach Fresca pizza here! One slice, garcon, and some expensive mineral water.

Yeah. Class.

We'd talk about him, what it's like being a wolf, all that. Lay on the charm, get him to invite me back to his place. See if I can manage to spend the night in his pants.

I scampered up to my seat to wait for his arrival. Sat for a long time, waiting. Laid down. Checked the clock on the wall. Maybe half an hour was too far in advance? Watched the water fountain for a while. Shooed away the waiter coming around to see if I was ready to order yet. Yawn.

I was awakened by a sudden jolt. The chair was moving around beneath me! I shook myself conscious, looked up, and saw...

And saw...

Good god.

I was struck dumb. Ten feet of wolf towered above me, glorious and beautiful, like a god on Earth. Even in his T-shirt and jeans, there was no mistaking his savage grace, his rough features, his noble eyes, his killer jaws. This was... this was...

Oh shit, he's coming at me butt-first.

I squeaked as long and as long as I could, but I was buried. Buried under pounds and pounds of canine ass. Smashed flat. I couldn't tell if my spine was broken and I was paralyzed, or if I was just pressed so tight that I couldn't move. I was still breathing, at least -- slow, steady, shallow breaths. Clearly, I wasn't going to survive this. I was going to be sat to death by the most beautiful canine I'd ever seen. Maybe he'd never even know.

I'd fantasized about this kind of thing before, but now that I was actually faced with it... Don't get me wrong, I don't have a death wish or anything, but... It was so warm and soft and snug... And I was so helpless... I knew I couldn't take much more, but I enjoyed it so much...

And then!

BBBRRRAAAAAAAAT. Oh god, was he ever crass. The stink was everywhere. I couldn't breathe. I coughed convulsively, writhing with every last ounce of my strength, and yet somehow, I was delirious with glee. What could be more perfect? I meet a wolf at a fancy restaurant, and he sits on me and farts me to death.

I came to, bleary-eyed, on the surface of the table. I was sore everywhere. Took me a while to remember where I was, who I was, how to breathe, all of that stuff. When I finally got both eyes to focus on the same place at the same time, I found a wolf staring down at me. I gave him a smile while I waited for the room to stop shaking.

"Oh hi." Did I still sound a little punch drunk? Nah, I could handle this. "So, you must be Jerry."

He must've had something wrong with his eyes too, because he was blinking at me pretty fast. Maybe whatever I had was contagious. "Are... are you my blind date?"

"Timothy Whiskers!" I sat up to offer him a paw to shake. Hey! No broken bones! Good for me! "Yeah, I'm sorry I was a little late, I was having some problems moving..."

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there." Man, he looked so sad, I felt so sorry for him. "Are... are you all right?"

"Nooooo, I'm fine!" I laughed really, really loud so that he could tell I was all right. And then I remembered there was something important that I had to tell him. "Hey, listen. They have this Spinash Fresha pizza..."

Hmmmm. My body wasn't very good at standing up for some reason. I decided to stay lied down as long as I was already there, what could possibly go wrong?

And then I realized that this date really needed more naps.

I woke up again feeling a little bleary. The lights were low, and I couldn't tell where I was.

I was... I was in a bed.

Not one of the beds in the furniture department, no, this was like... a proper mouse bed! I hadn't slept in one of these in years! Not since... not since I was just a little kid.

The restaurant. The wolf. It was starting to come back to me. I wasn't in the restaurant anymore, I was... Well, the room was dark, but obviously a larger animal's home. The decorum was a little haphazard and joyless, but at least everything looked tidy. And there was an unmistakable canine funk in the air. And... a sound. Soothing. Mellow. Running water, very close by.

Hmmmmm.

A heavy padding sound. And suddenly, there was Jerry, looming over me, with a look on his face like a dog who'd just peed somewhere that he knew he wasn't supposed to. "Hey, you're up. How are you feeling?"

I gave a quick check. Everything felt like it was still moving, but nothing really wanted to. "Hmmm..." I thought back, and I couldn't help smiling. "I feel... like I've been to heaven."

Hmmm. That didn't seem to improve his mood. He stuck an eyedropper out at me -- had some sort of clear liquid in it. "Here. The vet gave me this. He said it'll help with the pain. Just drink about a drop of it." He held it right up to my mouth so I could take a few quick licks of it. Not exactly unpleasant -- strong alcohol base in the flavoring, with just a little cherry. "Luckily, he said you weren't hurt too bad. None of your bones were broken, none of your organs were damaged. It's actually kind of a miracle that you're still alive. He said that you just suffered some mild asphyxiation, and you'd just need some rest to recover."

"Mild asphyxiation," I mused. "So that's what that smell was."

He winced again, much to my confusion. Where was this guy's sense of humor? "I'm really sorry about how the night turned out. I... I almost killed you. I didn't even know you were there until I heard you coughing. You know, if Keith had just told me you were a mouse..."

"Hey, no harm, no foul," I assured him.

He looked surprised. "Really?"

"You're a wolf. It's not your responsibility to make sure every mouse has the good sense to keep from being sat on."

He padded to the corner of my peripheral vision and seemed to take an extra bit of effort to see where he was sitting before finally landing in his chair. "I don't know," he mumbled. "I seem to have the weirdest luck when it comes to meeting guys. I met Keith in the locker room of the local gym when I accidentally put his underwear on."

"Ha! No kidding?"

He waved a paw helplessly. "Then I meet you for a blind date, and I almost squish you to death..."

"Hey, don't be so hard on yourself!" I grinned. "I thought it was the experience of a lifetime."

"What do you mean by that?"

He just wasn't getting it. "Look in the mirror! You're a whole lot of wolf. I mean, a whole lot of wolf!" His face was blank. "Jerry, you're the sexiest thing I've ever seen. When I was under your ass, I thought I could die a happy mouse."

"What, really?"

Hmmm. Something was wrong about this setup. I was complimenting his sex appeal, but he was getting quieter and quieter. None of this was clicking with him. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that you're a sexy beast?"

"Well, yeah," he mumbled. "Keith does."

"So what's so surprising here?"

He gave me a good, long, hard look, like he'd just watched me saw a woman in half and was trying to figure out where the trick was. Finally, he said, "You really get off on being sat on?"

I grinned. "Sat on, stepped on, layed on, pounced, licked, chewed, swallowed... Whatever's your fancy."

He looked revulsed. "What, seriously?"

"Well yeah. Don't you get off on doing any of those things?"

"No!"

Yikes. He took offense to that? Where did that come from? Something wasn't jiving here. "I thought Keith told me he'd taken you hunting before," I said. "Specifically, that you ate mice from time to time?"

He scowled at me. "That was just once."

Squeak. So he was a mouse eater. I stole a quick look at his paunch. Couldn't help thinking that some tiny little animals just like me were folded away in that fat somewhere. He was big enough to pop them like strawberry seeds. Totally hawt. "Look, you're not going to offend me by talking about it," I assured him. "We're adults here. We can have a frank discussion about your predatory habits."

"I don't want to talk about it," he growled.

Erf. His hackles were up. I knew I was on thin ice, I knew it was a bad idea to push him, but something about this wasn't adding up, and I couldn't resist trying to get to the bottom of it. "Didn't you enjoy it?"

"DO YOU HAVE SOME SORT OF DEATH WISH OR SOMETHING?" he barked.

Eek! "No, no, of course not."

"Then why are you going on about this?" he said, exasperated.

"Because I think the sexiest thing about wolves is how dangerous they are," I explained. "I mean, look at you. You're a beast. You're bigger than me, you're stronger than me, you could break me in half in one bite... It makes me swoon just looking at you." Aha. Now I knew where I was making my mistake. "But you don't understand that," I said, snapping my fingers. "You're a big, brutish wolf. You always have other animals exactly where you want them. So you don't understand why I would get off on the idea of being pushed around by another animal."

I saw something click in his eyes. Aha! Comprehension! "Hmmmm. I have been wondering."

"About what?"

"About why Keith thought that we would get along so well," he said with a shy grin. "We're a lot alike. I'm a bottom too."

Took me a second to wrap my head around that one. "What, really?"

"Yeah."

"Noooo..."

"Yeah." His ears were blushing up. "Keith's my... Well, I'm his bitch."

I wasn't sure what to say to that.

"We... roleplay," he explained, fidgetting. "He ties me up. Keeps me on a leash. Has my ass. The whole deal."

Wow. I knew that fox was assertive and all, but taking on a wolf that size? He had some balls on him, that was for sure. "Huh. So... you never do a switchup? Take the reins from him? Do a little turnabout?"

He looked at me like I was crazy. "No..."

"Well, why not?" I asked. "You're really not the least bit interested?"

Hesitation. "No."

I grinned. Ha, I was getting closer. "Come oooooon. You're a wolf. He's a fox. There's got to be a little tickle of something in there. Don't tell me you've never thought about it."

He wanted to say it, but he was holding back. Just like he'd been holding back on everything else I'd asked him so far. "Okay," I decided. "We've been dancing around this for a while here now. Why don't you just spit it out?"

He looked worried. He knew I was on to him, but he tried to play stupid about it. "Spit what out?"

"I'm starting to notice a pattern here," I told him. "Every time I call you a wolf, you start getting all weird and defensive. Just tell me what's bothering you."

He let out a huge sigh. One of those "okay, I give up" kind of sighs. "Well, I'm... I don't exactly like wolves very much."

Huh. That was his big secret? "Well you know, I don't like mice very much, if that helps at all."

He looked shocked. "What, really?"

"Sure," I shrugged. "It's hard to find other gay mice, and besides, I think bigger guys are a lot hotter."

He frowned. "Yeah, but do you mind being a mouse?"

"No, I can't say that I do." And that's when it all came together. "Wait, are you saying that you don't want to be a wolf?"

"I don't know," he said defensively. "I'm not... I mean..."

"Why would you think something like that?" I asked, concerned. "What's so wrong with being a wolf?"

"What's wrong with it?" he asked, hurt. "What isn't wrong with it?" He turned his head, looking out the window. "They're... they're mean, vicious animals. All they do is hurt things and hurt each other. They snap at anything that gets too close to them, they're always fighting each other over dominance and territory and strength and weakness and all this other bullshit..."

"Well they're not all like that," I said, trying to reassure him. "You're not like that."

He turned to look at me again, and he had a chilling glint in his eyes. "Aren't I?" He let the question hang for a moment, and it all became clear to me. So that's why he'd gotten so touchy when I started talking about eating mice, that's why he submitted himself to a fox half his size, that's why he didn't react favorably when I said how sexy he was.

What a fascinating creature. I was finally starting to see what made him tick. He was probably even more dangerous than I'd given him credit for. Damned if it didn't intrigue me.

I'd found what I needed to find. It was time to change the subject. "So... this is your place, huh?"

He blinked, caught off guard. "Oh. Yeah." He seemed a little embarassed. "Sorry, it's... I wasn't really expecting company tonight; the place isn't really much to look at."

I grinned. "Not the type to take a guy home on the first date, huh? Old fashioned. I like that."

He smiled modestly. "Well... No, I wasn't really... planning on anything like that, no."

"Not too shabby," I said, looking around. Sparse furniture, a little tone-deaf in the arrangement department, but still kind of comfortable and homey. "Apartment? Condo?"

"Mobile home," he growled grudgingly.

"Really... Yeah, I can see it now." Come to think of it, the place did seem a little small for its occupant. "Well, I like what you've done with the place." The painkillers were kicking in, and my grogginess was subsiding a bit. It gave me a little bit more freedom of movement. There was a little kitchen area -- stove, sink, countertop, little folding card table with a bowl of flowers in the middle. Cute. My bed was set up on a coffee table in the living room area, facing the armchair where Jerry was sitting. And on the other side of him...

"Hey. What's that over there?" That's where that sound of running water was coming from.

His ears pricked up, and he glanced over as if he'd never noticed it before himself. "Oh! That's..." He hesitated, grinning whistfully. "That's my magic table."

Hmmmm... "Do tell."

"It's just this stupid thing Keith and I do," he said dismissively. "He's bought me all of these weird trinkets. Most of them when I first met him. He says they're magic."

"And are they?"

He shrugged. "I've never been able to figure it out one way or another."

I craned my head around, trying to catch a glimpse, but there was too much wolf in the way. "Mind if I take a look?"

"Are you feeling any better?"

I gave my arms and legs a brief shakeout. They were feeling a lot better than they were when I woke up. "Eh, so far, so good."

His paw came down, scooped me up, and gently flew me over to the opposite side of Mount Wolf. There was another endtable next to the chair, and that's where I found the source of the running water. It was a tabletop water fountain. Very similar in style to the one at the pizza place, only scaled down to mouse size. It sat on top of a bowl, presumably the source of the dancing water, and the bowl itself sat on a lacey doily. "Oh wow..." I couldn't see it very well from under the rim of the bowl, so I hoisted myself up and stood on top of the faux slate rock to get a better view. "It's beautiful... Keith got this for you?"

"Yeah. He said that my element is water. Supposedly, if I spend some time sitting here and watching it run, it'll revitalize my spirit."

I looked up to him. "And does it?"

He shrugged. "It doesn't hurt."

I watched the water dancing at the top of the display, hypnotized. The pump was just strong enough for a little lump of water to rise up from the surface, sliding this way and that as the chaotic currents raged around. A dozen little rivers trickled over the landscape -- plaster of Paris, it felt like -- over polished stones, and over the edge into the bowl again. I found a dry spot to sit at the edge of the landscape, dangling my legs in the air, and taking a moment to glance over the rest of the treasures he'd amassed. There was a small oil warmer, and about six small vials of scented oil. There was a small porcelain dish that held a pair of metal balls with some sort of Asian characters drawn on them -- Chinese Worry Balls, I think they were called. And... hello!

"Nail polish?"

Jerry choked suddenly. I looked up to him for an explanation.

"Well, I... I must have left it out on accident," he muttered.

Hmmmmm... "You do your nails?"

"Sometimes, yes," he mumbled, clearly embarassed. "I mean... just my toenails. It'd be too obvious if I went to work with painted claws."

I grinned. "Can I see them?"

His ears went straight up. "Well, they're not done now..." he mumbled, clearly embarassed.

I gave my tail two whisks. "Well... Then could I do them for you?"

He gave me a good, long, thoughtful look. At long last, with kind of a nervous half smile, he said, "All right."

A couple minutes later, he was stretched out on the couch, knees bent so his toes would be flat against the cushions. His legs were parted to either side, and he would switch between looking down at me from between them and leaning back, looking up at the ceiling. With his socks off... man. These were no dainty little showdog paws, I'll tell you that much. These were tough, ugly, wolf paws. His toes, any of which could pin down my head all by itself, were spread out, showing off the thick, hairy webbing between each of them. Built for power and endurance, to cross huge fields of snow at a steady, relentless pace. Evolution hadn't forgotten why he was put on this Earth; these were the paws of a real beastie. The nails were long and dull and a bit scraggly looking. And they had quite a powerful stink to them, standing this close.

Glee.

I painted his nails up one at a time with a brush as long as my arm. The effect was interesting to say the least. There's definately something to be said about a fat, shaggy, rough around the edges wolf wearing pink nail polish. When they'd all been painted to a glorious shine and blown on until they were good and dry, I stuck the brush back in the bottle and stepped back to admire my handiwork.

"Ta da," I announced proudly. "Now you have the prettiest toes."

His ears tipped back a bit and he flushed up. "You really think so?" He looked down at them and wriggled them around.

"Absolutely!" I assured him. "They look rather fetching on you, if I say so myself. I'm not usually one to fall for the ladies, you understand, but... I think you could turn some heads."

He gave me a little half smile, then turned to sit up straight on the couch again. "Hey. So we never actually got around to dinner, did we? Are you still hungry?"

Of course, being a scavenger mouse means spending every moment of your life in a state of subdued starvation; I was looking forward to tonight for the promise of a free hot meal as much as anything else. "Yeah, I could still eat," I assured him.

"I could whip us up some spaghetti and meatballs quick," he offered. "I know it's no Spinach Fresca pizza, but it's something."

Heh, and thank goodness for that. "Spaghetti would be excellent right about now."

"Go ahead and make yourself comfortable." He padded into the kitchen and set to work with much clattering of pans and pouring of water and so forth. A bag of frozen meatballs in the microwave, a jar of tomato sauce in a large saucepan. I noticed that he seemed to be preoccupied with something; he kept glancing down at his bare feet. I just figured I must have done a pretty good job that he wanted to look at it.

Suddenly, he turned to me. Had a shy sort of smile on his face. "Hey. I wonder if you would mind... indulging me in something."

"Indulging you in something?"

He blushed up a little. "Yeah, I'd just... like to try something quick."

I shrugged. "It's your place. You could run around naked if you wanted." Hey, a little wishful thinking never hurt, right?

"Well... All right then." He left his things to simmer and disappeared down the hall. There were sounds like rummaging... Fabric being waved around... Maybe he was going to run around naked.

I could hear the water in the biggest pot reach a rolling boil as he stepped out again. Aha! My suspicions were confirmed. He'd changed clothes. Something to match his toenails, no doubt.

It was a cute little floral print dress that went down to his ankles. Lots of pink and blue flowers all over it. Still barefoot, little pink claws clacking against the linoleum floor. And, from the looks of things... makeup? It was very subtle -- a little pink in his cheeks, a little blue around his eyes, a little red in his lips. But there was something else different about his face. He looked more... playful. Secure. His tail was slightly higher, waving back and forth.

"So," he grinned. "This is one of my roleplaying outfits. What do you think?"

I've never been interested in women, nor have I ever really understood the attraction to "girlie guys". So maybe that's why Jerry's drag outfit struck a chord with me. He wouldn't pass for a female in the bottom of a dark cave at midnight on a new moon. His male features dominated -- his stocky build, his boulder gut, his thick ankles, and of course, he didn't even try to disguise his rough, growly voice -- but there was still something interesting about this transformation. Maybe it was how the colors gave him a softer, gentler appearance -- more like a friendly dog than a vicious wolf. Or maybe it was just the way he carried himself while he was in drag. What you wear can give you a huge psychological charge. Clothes make the man, after all.

Or woman, in this case.

"I'm not going to lie to you," I shrugged. "You look hotter than a habenero."

He seemed to take the compliment well, which was a nice change of pace for the evening. "It's just something for around the house," he said modestly. "I wouldn't go out in it."

"Why not?"

He grinned. "Because I have something much nicer for that."

Hmmmm... This wolf had some balls after all, eh? As he turned his attention back to the spaghetti, I decided to get myself down from the couch -- starting to feel as good as new! -- and join him in the kitchen.

"So... Keith tells me you're a food lover?"

He nodded. "I love to cook," he confided. "But I don't get much chance outside of work."

"Really... You're a chef?"

He gave me a sideways glance. "Assistant manager at a sandwich shop."

"Assistant manager, really?"

He nodded, pulling the meatballs out of the microwave and folding them into the sauce. "It's a living, I guess."

"Beats my job," I agreed. "But I kind of pictured you as more of a gourmet chef, that kind of thing."

"You can do that with sandwiches," he said authoritatively, mixing the noodles. "It's one of the great culinary art forms. Matching the meats to the sauces that will best bring out their flavor. Finding the right blend of seasonings. Arranging the vegetable garnish. Creating an attractive presentation. There's not a single thing that a fine chef does with his entrees that you can't do with a sandwich." He glanced down at me with a decidedly aggressive grin. "I take my work very seriously."

Gulp. No further objections, then.

He pulled out a noodle and bit it pensively. "Do you like your pasta al dente?"

"Al what now?"

"Just a little bit firm in the middle," he explained. "It's the proper way to prepare it, but a lot of animals are used to having their noodles softer."

"Hey, you're the chef," I shrugged. "I'll trust your judgement on this."

His face lit up like I'd just made his day. "Then this is all ready." I stepped discretely out of the way as he started busying around the kitchen, draining noodles, stirring the sauce, setting the card table. He helped me up to our dining surface, a full place setting for himself, and a small bread plate off to the side.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking about how I would set you up." He gestured helplessly to the bread plate, almost the size of my bed. "I don't really have any mouse-sized place settings."

"This'll be fine," I assured him, taking a seat on my plate. Truth told, it was a nicer place setting than I was used to getting.

"And what would you like to drink then?"

"Water's fine," I told him. "I don't mind drinking out of a short bowl."

"How about a shotglass?" he asked, producing one from the cupboard. "They came with one of my glass sets."

"Huh, even better."

He served himself a rather large plate of noodles, topped it with a small ocean of sauce and parmessan cheese, and mixed it all around. When it was all good and red, he carefully peeled off a small forkful of noodles for me and topped it with a chunk of a meatball the size of my head. "If there's anything else you need, just ask."

I didn't care how piping hot it was -- I dug into those noodles with both hands. It felt like a lifetime ago since I'd last had a real, hot dinner like this. The portion he gave me was a feast, and surprisingly good for the fifteen minutes of effort it took. I tore big chunks out of the meatball, swirled them around in the sauce, nibbled away at noodles as thick as my wrists... I didn't even make half a dent before I had to call it quits.

The wolf, meanwhile, was tucking in with the enthusiasm of a pack animal anxious to secure his share of the kill. Surprisingly well-mannered about it though; he spun his noodles around his fork with the use of a spoon and ate in neat, clean bites. Surprisingly tidy, in spite of his speed and intensity. Didn't say a word, kept his focus completely on his plate.

When I was done eating, I found myself watching him, transfixed. And in the middle of the melee, I happened to notice a meatball pass his lips, followed immediately by a gulp. Didn't lay a tooth on it, just downed the whole thing in one.

My god. I wouldn't stand a chance.

As I watched the mountain of noodles vanish, I was suddenly struck by an interesting idea. "So... Jerry?"

He stopped suddenly, shocked, like he'd forgotten I was there. Licked his nose once. "I'm sorry, what?"

I stepped down from my plate and sauntered toward him. "I wonder if you would mind... indulging me in something."

He blinked rapidly. "I guess?"

Heh heh. I walked over to the edge of his plate and started stripping. Did my very best to keep myself from shaking, but I was already harder than I'd ever been in my life. And then I stepped up onto the plate, walked to the center of the noodle pile...

And laid down. Looking up at Jerry. Stupid grin on my face, and dick pointing straight out.

He was... a bit put off. "What are you doing?"

I grinned. "Enjoying the view."

"I'm not going to eat you," he asserted, pointing his fork at me admonishingly.

"Oh, I know," I assured him. "I just wanted to watch the show. If that's all right with you."

He gave me kind of a sideways look, but... finally dismissed my presence, picked up his fork and spoon, and went back to his meal. Ohhhhh, goodness, it was wonderful. Hungry wolf looming over me, gorgeous, sloppy jaws at work. It was sooooo tempting to just start jacking it right then and there, but I restrained myself for his sake -- he probably wouldn't find that too appetizing. I could feel the noodles slithering out from under me as he spun them away and then slurped them up. And before too long, I was flat on my back, laying in a tomato sauce stain on the plate, my entire bed safely tucked away in his fuzzy tummy.

BURP. Wide open. I could see his uvula. Crass.

And suddenly, the tines of his fork were pressed against my chest. He looked down at me, broad, floppy tongue slurping away at his chops. Giving me a strange, sort of fixated look.

Shiiiiiiit.

"You got all messy," he noted.

"Guess I did," I grinned back, trying not to betray my nervousness. This was starting to seem like not such a good idea after all.

"Let me help you with that quick."

Suddenly, the fork slid to my side and pushed me across the plate onto his spoon. I had exactly enough time to gasp before I was lifted up. He greeted me with jaws open wide. Over the teeth, past the gums...

Darkness.

Dog breath and italian spices.

Squishy, gutteral tasting noises.

And everywhere, a river of living liquid, tossing me around, probing me, holding me.

I really thought he was going to do it, and I really, really, really wasn't ready for it all of a sudden. I squeaked at the top of my lungs, I writhed and wrestled for all I was worth, and then...

All at once, the ride stopped. I panted hard, wondering what had happened. And I realized the horrible truth. It had started as a joke, but now he was thinking about it.

Oh god, he was actually thinking about it.

And then... a soft drop. And I found myself back on the surface of the table. I was matted from head to toe and dripping with slobber. Still, no more spaghetti stains!

"There you go," he said briskly. "All clean."

I looked back up at him with a disheveled smile. "Wow. That was one hell of a good night kiss."

An awkward silence hung in the air. He'd tried to laugh it off, and I'd gone along with it, but we both knew what had just happened. Moreover, we both knew that the other one knew.

"So, ummm..." He glanced away and stood up, starting to mumble. "How about if I clean this up and we call it a night then?"

"Yeah, sounds good, sounds good."

I got my clothes together again, and he pulled out some plastic containers for the leftovers. "So if you're still not feeling well... You know, you're welcome to stay, but I can drive you home quick if you want."

"Nnnno, that's okay," I said. "I'm not in too much of a hurry to get home. My place is just a hole in the wall; I might as well be here as anywhere."

"Yeah, okay," he said, nodding too fast as he piled the dishes in the sink. "Well, you know you can... I got the bed from the vet, you can have it."

"Sure, sure, I'll just stay out here in the living room, won't bother you at all."

"Sure."

We froze for just a moment. His face was clouded over. He was worried. Or scared. Or something else.

"So," I said slowly, trying out my most reassuring smile, "Thank you for a most... memorable evening. It was wonderful to meet you."

He looked a little bit more relaxed and even gave me just a little smile, but I noticed that his eyes were turned away ever so slightly, as if he couldn't quite face me. "Pleasure's all mine."

"So... Can I anticipate a second date?"

He smiled a bit more openly this time. "I still have the card for sixty dollars," he said. "It'd be a shame to let it go to waste."

I nodded. "Just name the day. I'll clear my calendar for you."

It had gotten awfully late all of a sudden. I guess between being unconscious and spaghetti dinner, the time had sort of gotten away from us. I didn't mind the idea of getting another session in with that bed he'd gotten for me. He set me up on his magic coffee table, and at my request, agreed to leave the water fountain running all night for me. I listened to the soothing trickle of water as I mused over the day's events and that strange and sexy wolf who'd set them in motion. I knew if I was going to go on seeing Keith, I was going to be seeing a lot of Jerry. I spun him around in my thoughts, trying to figure out exactly how I felt about him. But I could only come to one clear conclusion about him.

If I spent enough time around him, that wolf was going to eat me. I couldn't see any other way out of it.

Damned if that didn't turn me on though.