Nevada
A husky goes out into the desert to try to find some inspiration, and is surprised by what he finds.
Saturday, July 14th, 2012
10:47 AM.
I note the time, as it's been half an hour since I lost phone reception. My phone keeps playing music obediently through the speakers of this car, but I remain disconnected from the world. I wonder how long it'll be before I find signal again - the GPS is telling me I'm 4 hours from my next hotel, but it also doesn't seem to be sure where I am. I tap my fingers on the wheel, staring out at the vast expanse of red dirt and low shrubbery that surrounds, listening to an old favorite, Roam by the B-52s.
It's nice to be away from the city for a while. The flight out here was crazy, the conference exhausted me, and now, for the first time in... must be several months, I have a moment of solitude. An escape from the debauchery of Vegas, the never-ending nightlife, the hours of daytime meetings I couldn't give less damns about, and the whole mess back home. Here I am, in the wilderness, experiencing my own little soul awakening, and there's nothing but open road ahead.
Maybe nobody'll notice if I speed a bit. I've been a good boy up until now.
12:42 P.M.
The smoke rising from the engine compartment was the first sign that something was wrong. Must have overheated - not that I can blame the poor little thing, out in this heat. Last I checked the car thermometer read 114 degrees. I'm somewhere between Vegas and Reno, but I'll be damned if I know where. The GPS won't turn on without the car powering it, and my phone has become utterly useless.
Why in the hell did I even plan on doing this? I mean, here I was, on vacation for a week in Vegas, checking out all the latest toys and tools for work, shaking hands with all the right people, handing out more business cards than I could count. Hell, even just going out at night to go dancing, that was a rush I don't afford myself often back in the city. God, it was so amazing - swaying from side to side, drunk off my ass, making bedroom eyes at every attractive man in the room. But somehow, I decided I needed to go out into the world and find myself for a few days. Be a city dog out in the country. Drive through the desert. See all that the great undeveloped West has to offer. Get inspired, take some pictures, and go back to the city newly inspired to tackle whatever work has ahead of me.
Heat brings me back to the current situation. Time to stop daydreaming. Sitting inside this greenhouse of a car will only roast me alive. The black touches of fur on my head and ears will burn in the sun in minutes flat. No trees for miles, so it looks like the only shade I'll find out here, I'll have to make myself. This little husky was a Pup Scout for a few years... I should be able to figure this out.
2:19 P.M.
It isn't pretty, but it'll be home for the time being. Take one part car trunk, two parts dirty dress shirts from your suitcase, some post-it notes, and you've got yourself a tent. Kinda.
It'll do until I figure out something better, at least. Should fend off heatstroke for a while. I only have one bottle of water though, and I had already finished half of it on my drive. It looks like I'll have to ration it to get through the afternoon.
The horizon is a million miles away, through the gap between the two shirts. Nothing's ever this flat back East. I know that must seem pretty cliché, but hell, I've never been this far west in my life. It really looks like a whole different planet. Even the dirt looks different. It must be strange to live out here - or maybe not. Maybe, if this is all you've ever had, our thick, brown dirt would be odd to you. The hills would terrify even your most steely-nerved drivers. The winters would freeze you to death.
Strange thing, culture shock is.
I lean back against the lid of the trunk, and pull out my phone. I suppose the least I can do while waiting for help is to listen to some music.
Soy un perdedor...
I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me?
3:57 P.M.
I see the faint wiggling of shapes in the mirages of the horizon before I hear the throaty growl of the SUV. It approaches at what seems like a snail's pace, the heat from the road bending and distorting its image. It eventually rolls to a stop just behind my car, where I am suddenly hit with the blue and red glow of flashing lights inside the windshield.
Thank God.
The tiger behind the wheel steps out of his car, as I attempt to climb out of my comfy little trunk-nest.
"Looks like you need some help here, sir."
"Yeah... I think it overheated. Wouldn't turn back on," I say, pointing to the car.
"How long you been out here?"
"Uh... maybe 3 hours? 4?"
"Well, let's see if we can't get the poor girl back up and running," he says, with a tone in his voice that tells me that outcome isn't terribly likely. I watch him walk up to the front of my car, and then look back at me.
Oh, he wants me to go see if I can start the car. Yeah, that.
"Sorry. Just a little tired."
"Not a problem sir. Take your time."
I walk to the car, open the door, and am immediately hit with a wave of oppressive heat, like opening the door of an oven. I wince, and then gradually lower myself down onto the tan upholstery. It is every bit as hot as the air was, and I could practically feel it singing my tailfur.
I put the key back in the ignition, press down on the brake, and turn the key. Every light on the dashboard lights, and then they all die, save for the Check Engine and TEMP lights. Whatever that means.
"No dice, huh?" he said, putting his hands on his hips and looking the car up and down. "Not terribly surprised, you know, these cheap little imports. Not to put down your car or anything."
"Don't worry about it. It's a rental." I begin to stand up from the burning-hot seat, before he stops me.
"Well, rental or not, we've gotta get this thing off the road. Can you put it into neutral?"
With some gentle (and not so gentle) persuasion from his and my paws, we shift the car into neutral, and he pushes it off to the shoulder while I steer. I close my eyes for a moment, just letting myself rest.
"You alright there sir?"
I snap around and look up at him. He's got my shirts balled up in one paw, my suitcase in the other.
"Oh, yeah. Sorry, I think the heat's taking a lot out of me."
"C'mon, hop in my truck. I'll blast the air for you."
I followed him back to his SUV, a gaudy silver color with bright red lettering down the side that read "SHERIFF". I paused at the door, suddenly unclear on where to sit.
"Hop right in the front there."
And I did.
The cool air blowing from the vents was almost disorienting. It felt so good. I ran a paw through my headfur, slicking it back with sweat, finally feeling my face begin to cool. I closed my eyes, only to reopen them to the sound of the tiger closing the driver's door.
"So, are we going to... wait for a tow truck, or something?"
"Hah! Nearest tow truck to here is going to be hours out. Lucky if I can get a good enough radio signal out here to call for one. I'll mark this up and get you back to town, and the truck'll come pick this up later." He tapped away at the computer hanging from the dash. "Why, you got a hot date tonight or something?"
My eyes were closed, my tongue was hanging out, and I could only imagine what a sight I must have been.
"No, just... guess this throws off my travel plans."
"Guess so. What's your name, sir?"
"Andrew Nichols."
"Perfect. Let me get a little more information in this report, and we can be on our way."
5:12 P.M.
I wake up to find that the SUV is now parked outside of a convenience store. Though, according to the sign, this is actually a "Western Market". Not sure what the difference is, except for motif, but here I am. The engine's running, but the tiger is nowhere to be found. Looks like I've been asleep for around 30 minutes. I think the heat really did a number on me.
The tiger emerges from the store, plastic bag in hand. He opens the door, hops into the driver's seat, and hands me a cold water bottle out of the bag. "Drink up. You're probably dehydrated from being out there so long."
I pop open the bottle and take a long gulp, stopping to catch my breath after a few seconds. I think I catch the tiger watching me and chuckling out of the corner of my eye, but by the time I look over, he's already looking through his plastic bag again. He pulls out a bottle of Coke and opens it.
"So, officer, where are we now?"
"Mina, Nevada. Population... One fifty? Somewhere around there. Oh, and the name's Simpson. Deputy Sheriff Jordan Simpson, to be precise. Feel free to call me Jordan, though."
"Okay... Jordan. Think I've got any chance of a cell signal out here?"
"Probably not, but I've gotten the call into the tow company. They should have your car towed in tonight, but it doesn't look like they'll be able to touch it until tomorrow. Overload of accidents today, they said."
I sigh and lean my head back. "So... what do I do until then?"
"You have anywhere to stay out here?"
"Not until Reno."
"That's still quite a bit away. Probably 3 hours."
"Damn. I was supposed to get there tonight."
"Well, I'll get you as far as I can before my shift ends. See if we can't find you a motel somewhere along 95."
I lean forward and take another sip of the water. What other options do I have? I'm hot, tired, all I have is my suitcase full of clothes for 2 more nights, and no car.
"Guess so. Lead the way." I rest my head against the window, watching as we pull away from a town that barely counts as civilization. I check my phone - no service yet.
"So, what brought you out here?" the tiger asked, after a long pause.
"Came out for a convention, decided to go out into the wilderness to get inspired."
"Hm."
"I know that's gotta seem stupid. I mean, hell, it was just driving through the desert for 8 hours, but I figured if I could just get away from things for a while, and go have some quiet time, things might make more sense when I got back to New York."
"Certainly isn't any peace and quiet in Vegas."
"That there isn't. It's a fun place, but after 4 days and nights, I'm..."
"Ready for a break?"
"Exactly." I turn and look at him, his eyes fixed miles down the road, one paw loosely holding onto the wheel while the other rests on the armrest.
"I know that feeling."
I look out to the side of the car, the setting sun beginning to turn the sky orange. "You know, it's funny. I think a lot of people would be envious of me. Successful, young, living in the most alive city in the world, getting paid thousands of dollars to figure out new ways to sell people the same old crap in new packaging." I turn to face him, sitting up a bit straighter. "But you know what, after a while, you get tired of it all. I grew up wanting to be a hero. Wanting to change the world. And now, what am I?"
He runs his claws over the upholstery on the armrest a few times, clearly thinking about what to say.
"Sorry, I know that was a lot of nonsense. I'm just pretty stressed out. Things haven't exactly been turning out like they should recently."
"That I do understand," he sighs. He pauses for a moment, takes in a deep breath, and wraps his other paw around the steering wheel. "I guess you could say the same for me. Things haven't gone how I planned either."
"Oh? How so?"
He sinks into his seat a bit. "I guess... God, I'm gonna tell this to a stranger. Promise to not get me fired?"
"Of course. It's only fair that you get to spill your guts now, after I did."
"Well, I just, I'm 32. I haven't had a date since college." He chuckled a bit. "Can you believe that? 32, and I haven't gone on a single date since I was 21."
"Ouch. That's... quite the dryspell."
"Yeah. It's... it's not for lack of trying neither."
"What's been the problem, then?"
"Being a sheriff, all the way out here, has its perks. People out here need me. Sometimes I'm the only cop in half an hour's drive. I get to know I'm doing real good for people. But it also means that I'm stuck living in a little ranch house in a small town, hours away from anything a guy like you would recognize. Things move slower out there." He looks over to me. "You ever lived out in the country?"
"Can't say I have. I grew up in the suburbs."
"Then it's probably hard to understand, I guess. Out here, everybody knows everybody. Everybody's in each other's business. There's only one bar in town, and it's owned by my neighbor, Frank. There's only a few thousand people in the whole town. Meeting new people isn't easy, and meeting somebody new who's interested in a tiger who works long hours and never gets to really turn off his job, that's a hell of a challenge." The tiger beside me leans back and sighs, looking out at the road ahead.
The sky is beginning to get dark on my side, and though it's still a vibrant orange on his side of the road, I know we're getting close to nightfall.
"How soon until we hit somewhere I can stay?"
"Don't know, really. You're out in my neck of the woods now. I think there's a hotel the town before we hit mine. We'll try there. You got your credit cards on you, right?"
"Yeah, I do."
He picks up the pace a bit, the desert shrubbery on the sides of the road blurring before my eyes as we continue down the highway.
7:35 P.M.
"So you're telling me that there are no hotel rooms anywhere in town, for the next week?"
The weasel looks down at the computer in front of him, checking the numbers again. "No, sorry sir. We've been booked up for weeks. As I said, I called the other two hotels earlier for another visitor, and they were full too. Poker tournament in the casino tomorrow, you know. You picked a bad week to get stranded."
I set my wallet down on the counter, sigh, and then put it back into my jeans. "Thanks for your help."
"Not a problem, sir, and enjoy your stay here in Nevada."
I try not to laugh at the ridiculousness of that last sentiment as I walk out the door and back to the sheriff's SUV.
"Any luck in there?" he asks, through an open window.
"Nope. He says there's a poker tournament, and that he's called all the other hotels. No rooms in the whole town tonight."
"Damn. Well, what do we do now?"
I walk back to my side, open the door, and hop back in. "I honestly have no idea."
The tiger sits up straighter, stretching out his back, which must be sore after a whole day of driving. "Well, I'm technically supposed to be off of my shift by the time I get back home. But I'll get you to where you need to go."
"No, I can't ask you to do that. Just let me off somewhere where I can get a cab, and I'll continue the search for a room for the night."
"Well, I can't exactly let you do that. Remember, you're in my jurisdiction, and since I picked you up, I've got a duty to make sure you're safe for the night."
I look over to him. He has a smile on his face. A smile not like he's just doing his job, but like he's actually enjoyed having me around today. "I guess, if you are okay with doing that much."
"All just a part of the job, Mr. Nichols."
"So..." I mindlessly say, turning out to the windshield, and seeing the dark sky over the orange-lit street ahead of us.
"The only real other thing I can think of, save for driving you all the way to Reno, is... it's a little unconventional." I look back over to him. He's looking out his window. His claws are rubbing against the steering wheel. "It's... well, I... I live about half an hour from here, and there's nothing really around here except for my town and this one here, and you've been up for a long time now, and so have I and so..." He trailed off.
"So, what's the idea?"
"Well... I've got an extra bedroom at my house. It's gotta sound weird and everything but I swear it's not." He turns back to me, clearly a little worried. Why is he worried? "I'm not, like, trying to come on to you or anything. Not that you'd think that or anything. But I'm... I'm not. You know? It's just, I don't think there's any other options."
"I wouldn't have thought you were coming on to me. Please don't take any offense to this, but, are you..."
"I'm not. No, no." He turns out the side window again. "Just didn't want you thinking that... you know, I might be one of those."
"Well, okay." The tension in the car is so thick I can feel it. "I guess, if you can't think of anywhere else I could stay, I could stay with you. If it's not too much of a bother, I guess."
"No, not at all. It'd be fine." He turns the key of the ignition like he's got something to prove, and buckles up, putting the SUV into gear before I can even get my seatbelt buckled.
8:20 P.M.
We pull in to the driveway of a small, one-floor house. The lights are low, but I can tell it's been well-kept. He parks the SUV in the carport beside the house, and turns to me.
"Well, we're here."
"Yeah. It looks like a nice house."
"I do what I can with it," he says as he turns to the door and opens it, stepping out into the surprisingly cool night.
I step out of my side, and go to the trunk, where he's already unloading my suitcase, and a bag of his own. I pick up my belongings and carry them inside behind him. He opens the door and flicks on a light, and I'm greeted with an average-looking living room, with a kitchen off towards the back of the house.
"So, uh, Andrew, the spare room is back this way," he says, tentatively pointing me back towards the hallway. He leads me down past a few closed doors, opening the third on the right. He gestures for me to go inside.
The room looks like it hasn't been touched in years. The bed is made meticulously, with sharp corners on the sheets, and the tables beside the bed are empty.
"I hope this'll be good for ya."
"It's quite nice, actually. It looks like you've done a lot of prep work for this room."
"Well, I like things to be neat and orderly. Just my nature, really," he says with a half-hearted laugh.
"Well, I can appreciate that," I say, turning to face him. His eyes catch mine for a moment, and then shift down to the ground.
"Uh, let me show you where the bathroom is," he says, speaking directly to the floor, and then turns and leads me out of the room. I follow him down the hall, he points out the bathroom, and then he stops. He looks around, as if looking for something to do.
"Is something wrong?"
"No. No. Everything's fine. I'm just... just not used to having a guest around."
"If I'm imposing, I'm sure I can find somewhere else to go tonight. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."
He looks back at me. "No, stay. I'm fine. Just tired after a long day." He gives me another half-assed laugh, and looks me in the eyes. His eyes look tired. They look lost. And most of all, they look sad.
And so, against every bit of good judgment I have, I hug him. I wrap my paws over his big, strong shoulders, and around his back. I feel the warmth of his chest pressed against mine.
After a moment of stiffness, he softens into the hug, his paws coming to rest on my back. I press my head to his shoulder, and I can feel his breaths deepen and slow.
"I- I'm sorry," he barely whispers out, his paws digging into my back.
I pull my head from his shoulder and do my best to look at him, even though he isn't letting go of me. "What are you sorry for?"
"I don't even know," his voice trembles. His body stiffens again, and he pulls me in closer. "I'm just sorry."
"Whatever it is, I'm sure it's okay."
"No. No it's not," he says, sniffling at the end. His arms around me begin to loosen, and he starts to pull back from my embrace. I very gently take my arms from around him and pull back, looking at him as he covers his face with a paw, leaning back against the doorframe as he quietly begins to sob.
I reach out and grab his other paw, and hold it tight. "Tell me. What's wrong?"
"Why the hell would you even want to know?" he asks, a sudden tinge of anger in his voice.
"Tell me. I want to know." I look into his eyes, red with tears.
"You said it earlier. Life doesn't always work out how you wanted it to. I just want a normal life with a wife and a coupla kids and a nice house somewhere in the suburbs. I don't wanna be--" He pauses for a moment. "I don't wanna be a fucking little faggot."
He pulls his hand back from mine, and covers his face with his paws, his crying becoming harder and more painful. I lean in and pull his body to mine, his head finding its way to my shoulder. He wraps his arms around me.
We stand there in the doorway, my paws gently rubbing his back, and his arms clinging to me tightly, for what feels like a lifetime. His crying slowly fades, and his grip around me loosens again. I pull back from him, and look him in the eyes.
"I think you should go to bed. You look exhausted."
He looks back at me, eyes still red, ears flat against his head. He says nothing, but just nods and lowers his head, sighing. I take his hand and lead him back towards the bedrooms. I stop at the open door after the guest room, and let him lead me in. I walk with him to the bed.
"Th-thank you for listening. I'll get you back on the road tomorrow before my shift starts. I'm sor--" I cut him off by pressing a finger to his lips.
"Don't worry about tomorrow," I say, wrapping my other arm around him. I'm nervous, but I know what I need to do. For him, and for me. I lean in and press my muzzle to his. I can feel his whole body begin to purr, and his arms naturally find their way to my hips.
My hands begin to pull up the back of his shirt, running my fingers through his striped fur. He pulls back from the kiss, and practically gasps for air.
"I've never done that before... I mean, with... a guy."
I nuzzle him gently. "There's a first time for everything, I guess." I bring my paws around to his front and begin to unbutton his tan uniform shirt. He's still holding on to my hips, and his paws start to work their way around to my ass. He tentatively reaches his paws down and gives me a little squeeze. I look up at him and grin.
"You feel... good," he says, with all the awkwardness of a middle-schooler who just copped his first feel.
"I would hope I do!" I laugh in response. "I spend way too much time at the gym to not feel good!"
He looks down, smiling bashfully, and squeezes my rump again. I grind my hips up against his as I undo the last button of his shirt. I spread it open with my paws, feeling the muscles underneath his orange and white fur. I lean in for another kiss. This one's less tentative. He kisses back with more vigor, and when my tongue finds its way into his muzzle, he purrs even louder. His paws soon lift my shirt over my head, and he begins to run his fingers through my fur.
I break the kiss and grin at him. He looks back at me, his eyes bright with excitement. I push him, and he falls backwards onto the bed. I climb down onto the bed, straddling his hips as I kneel over him. I lean in and kiss his neck, feeling the fur below my muzzle fluff up a little as he grinds his hips up against mine. I start to kiss down his neck and chest, feeling every ripple of fur and muscle with my paws before planting a soft kiss on every inch. He's purring loudly at this point, his paws rubbing at my shoulders, his cock now stiff enough that I can feel it through his and my pants.
I slide lower and lower down his chest until my paws are at his belt. He looks down at me, and I see a bit of nervousness mixed in with his obvious arousal.
"Don't worry, kitty, this big bad puppy will be gentile to you," I say in the sultriest voice I've ever managed to use.
My paws go to work on his belt buckle, unfastening it and undoing the button and zipper that stand between me and a very eager tiger. I pull back his pants just enough to reveal the tight black briefs he has on underneath. I slide one of my paws over the significant bulge in it gently, teasing the poor kitty. He whimpers at the touch. I'm going to take that as a good sign.
I pull his pants and briefs down, revealing that this is indeed one well-endowed tiger. His cock, fully hard already by the looks of things, is easily an inch longer than mine, and thick enough that my paw has trouble wrapping around it.
The noise he makes when my fur touches his skin is adorable - this little whine of pleasure. His tail beats to and fro between his legs, and his hips thrust upwards into my paw. I run my paw up and down his hard cock softly and slowly. My other paw wraps around his balls, gently cradling them and squeezing them just a bit. He moans out, his paws digging into my shoulders as I kiss his hips.
"I th--Oh god, I think I'm gonna..." he barely pants out. I slow down my stroking, and feel his hips hump up into my paw. He pants and wines, his toes curl, but I keep him right on the edge of orgasm.
"This feels so good," he moans out, throwing his head back as I continue to tease him. "It's... it's never felt like this before. Fuck, this is - oh! Oh... this is better than the best sex I've ever had."
I nuzzle his hips some more, taking in a deep smell of his feline musk. "Mmm... and this is just my paw, kitty. Imagine how other stuff feels."
I begin to speed up my pawing, and his breath becomes quicker with every time I run my paw up and down his cock. I can feel his pre dripping down his cock and slicking up my paw. I know he's close. I speed up even more, feeling his hips bucking into my paw more and more with every second.
He throws his head back and moans, and his cock tenses up in my paw. Ropes of thick, white cum spray over my paw and my muzzle. His back arches as he finishes his orgasm, his whole body trembling.
I roll off of him, sliding up the bed to lay beside him. He looks over, eyes wide with afterglow pleasure, and smiles the most genuine smile I've ever seen. Then he raises a paw, and wipes some of his cum from my muzzle.
"Looks like you missed a spot, puppy."
I lean over before he can even move his paw and take his fingers into my muzzle, cleaning them of every drop. He just grins at me, and pulls his fingers from my muzzle, wrapping his paws around me. He looks deeply into my eyes.
"So, uh, what should I... do for you?" he asks, with the sleepy drawl of a man who's just had the best orgasm of his life.
"Nothing, silly. You needed that much more than I do. We should get some sleep now."
He simply nodded and tucked his head into my chest, and closed his eyes. I wrapped my arms around him, feeling his fur under my fingertips and sighed softly.
I can't say that this is what I expected, coming all the way out here, but I think the warm, soft tiger curled up in my arms more than makes up for the lack of profound epiphanies I was supposed to have on this trip.
I close my eyes.
Sunday, July 15th, 2012
6:15 A.M.
"--od morning to you, Reno! This is Ricky with your morning rock fix! Up next we've go--"
He slaps the button on the alarm clock. He yawns and rolls over, and suddenly looks surprised to find me in his bed. "Uh... hey."
"Hey to you too."
"Did you, uh, sleep well?"
"Yeah, did you?"
"I don't even remember falling asleep."
"You were out pretty quickly, there."
"I guess so. Uh, thanks. For last night."
"I thought you needed that."
He cracks a smile for the first time this morning.
"I... I guess I did, really."
I lean over and give him a soft kiss on the nose. He blushes and his ears fold down, and he smiles.
"So, we should talk a little. About some serious things."
The happy smile drains from his face.
"Not bad things, but just... real things. Okay?"
He nods.
"Last night was wonderful for me. And I hope it was wonderful for you. But I think we also both know that today my car's going to be fixed, and you're going to go do your job, and tomorrow morning I fly back to New York."
He sighs and looks down, between us. "I know."
"So, how can that all happen without turning you into an emotional mess?"
He pauses and looks up at me. His eyes start to get watery. I wrap my arms around him and pull him into my chest. "Shh, shh kitty. It's okay." I pet his back softly, running my fingers through his fur.
"I'm going to miss you," he whispers into my chest.
"I'm going to miss you too. But goodbyes are never really forever."
He dug his muzzle into my chest. "God, I hope not."