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A Humble Request

Story by Iguessineedanaccount of Furaffinity.net

Request by Hellsrider, of the same website

Original Character Do Not Steal

(Like I give a fuck)

(unless you get rich off it somehow)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My scales throbbed dully as steam rose off of them into the early morning air. My eyes, slightly bloodshot from the impromptu encounter, bored into the spherical capsule, which rested in the grass mere feet away, quivering. I stood unmoving, honed in intensely on the pokeball for...yes, yes, there it was, the *click*! I let myself relax, limbs hanging limp on my barely standing form. A puff of smoke escaped my mouth as I breathed a sigh of relief.

~~

After a pleasant afternoon spent collecting berries with my trainer, Elan, as well as a good night's sleep, I still felt a bit stiff from the encounter with the buizel. I suppose, as a charmeleon, I had no business fighting a water type, especially one so quick...but I'm all Elan has. At least, I was, until our little acquisition, now resting in Elan's first real occupied pokeball. I suppose I should be happy: Elan gets a new pokemon, I get bragging rights to winning a battle with a type disadvantage...but, of course, I'm not. Because I know Elan is going to expect me to treat the buizel like a playmate. He'll expect me to be fun and happy and courteous with the little shit. Ugh.

At least I get to see Elan overjoyed with the taste of success for a change.

I'm relaxing outside after a hearty breakfast, still waiting for the crick in my neck from a well-placed aqua jet to straighten itself out, when Elan lets the furball out to play. The buizel's orange tuft of hair, which I thoroughly enjoyed smacking around during our fight, protrudes like a fin from his scalp, jiggling just a tad with each turn of his head. And boy does it turn. I'd swear the otter were hopped up on caffeine or something if I didn't know better. It's like he's never seen a back yard before. I watch him as his eyes, wide as bronzors, trace along the white picket fence, then dart over to the colorful little obstacle course I use to train occasionally. His head practically swivels on his neck buoy...thing...as he takes in the picnic table and its tacky white and blue umbrella. I only grow concerned when he spots the little cot resting between the two young trees. More specifically, my little cot, personally furnished with soft, purple, fire-retardant pillows. I let him take a step and a half toward it before I let out something resembling a hiss. His eyes, still bright as moonstones, now turn to focus on me. My muscles tense reflexively as I size him up again. We remain this way for a few moments.

He takes a big breath, and I, in response, take a quick step back, bracing to roll out of the way of a water gun. As it turns out, I am not assaulted by water, but instead a high-pitched squeal, which causes me to wince.

"THIS IS SO COOL!"

He beams at me.

"Is this yours?" he asks, indicating nothing in particular.

"...Uh-"

Faster than I can react, he closes the small gap between us and...hugs me around the waist...

"Thank you so much for letting me hang out here!"

I blink. He lets go and proceeds directly toward the cot (my cot) again at full speed. I forget to reprimand him as I attempt to figure out what exactly has just transpired. I look back to see if Elan's going to be of any help. He seems to have gone back inside. I can picture him now, grinning smugly as he revels in forcing me to be sociable.

After a bit of contemplation, my agitation gets the better of me, and I find myself walking briskly over to my cot, which the buizel has pounced on, scattering my pillows.

I catch the edge of the cot just as it tilts toward the side the otter is laying on, and my frustration finally boils into a question:

"Have you never been in a yard before?"

He pauses, thinking. "Uh. Maybe once or twice. But never for funsies!"

He does a little sort of roll, surely coating my pillows with a fine layer of fur. Though I very much so want his hairy body off my bed, I realize what's really bothering me about him, so I ask another question.

"Aren't you...aren't you sad? Or worried? Or scared?"

His eyebrows furrow just a bit as he looks back at me. "Why would I be?"

"...I don't know...don't you have any family? You haven't seen anyone except my trainer and me in several hours, and the last time you saw me I was punching you. In the face."

His expression remains unreadable, so I continue. "You're away from home. You're something like a prisoner. You...I don't know, you tell me."

The buizel takes a moment to ponder. "...Well...my family is kind of gone, since my mom died an' all... an' your trainer seems nice!" He smiles again, in a way that I can't regard as anything but earnest. I contemplate the buizel, unsure exactly what I think of him yet; though admittedly, I feel a little twang of pity for him.

"...That's my cot you're lying on."

He looks up at me inquisitively.

"...so get off it."

~~~

As the days pass, I begin to grow accustomed to having the furball around. I'm resilient at first, but, eventually, I start to feel bad about rejecting his requests to play all the time, and eventually I cave in and acquiesce. I am sure Elan is elated that we're getting along as he'd wanted, and I in turn want to resent him a little, but for some reason, I can't; despite feeling played, I also feel an...attachment, of sorts, to the otter.

Playing is something I've never really done on my own, but with Fuzzface around, it's become somewhat commonplace. He teaches me a few games he learned living in the woods, I show him some of the comforts of a suburban lifestyle. I also teach him a bit of what I know about battling, which he has quite a knack for. (This comes as no surprise to me, given how stupid energetic he is).

~~

In a way, it's pleasant having another pokemon around. Relating to humans all the time...well, as much as I love Elan, as much as he treats me like an equal, there are many things we don't see quite the same way. I ponder about this as I lie on my mattress, listening to the rain patter lightly against the window. The weather's been rather terrible the past few days, so I pulled in my pillows from outside and have been sleeping in the guest room until the weather abates. It's not that I mind sleeping in the same room as Elan, particularly; I'm just a very light sleeper, which makes sharing space a problem at night. Besides, he's got the furball to keep him company now.

I'm not easily scared, but for some reason, the thunderclap outside, mixed with the door to my room slowly creaking open, causes my pulse to quicken some. A figure stands in the doorway, silhouetted by the hall light. I breathe a small sigh of relief as I recognize the outline as that of Fuzzface. As he closes the door behind him, the dim light of my tail reveals matted cheek fur and reddened eyes, fixed on me.

"Um...Hi, Flamey..."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes at the moniker he's invented for me. Instead, I simply ask, "Is something wrong?"

He sniffles. "I um...thunderstorms kind of*sniff* make me sad..."

"...Oh."

"...I was...uh...I was wondering if maybe I could sleep with you tonight."

"N-...hm..."

I really should say no; I'll never get any sleep with him around...But, as much as I like my personal space, he seems to be in a bit of emotional distress. His eyes regard me with something like restrained desperation. I shouldn't look at them, because it will impair my better judgment, but...I do anyway...

"...*sigh*...all right..."

The corners of his mouth lift feebly. He walks over to where my mattress is on the floor, and I lift a corner of the blanket up, allowing him to slide in next to me. He lays on his side, front to me, though he looks down towards the blanket. I watch him, waiting to see if he'll give some sort of an explanation. I'm not left disappointed.

"My um...my mom used to curl up around me when I was little, before we went to sleep..."

He looks up at me, sniffling again as a fresh tear slides down his cheek.

"But...but one night, she didn't come back...an'...an' that night...when she didn't come back...it w-was a big storm, l-like...like...this..."

...He starts sobbing. It's not very loud, and I'd almost think he was just squeaking if I didn't know better. I want to comfort him, but I'm not very good at that sort of thing, so I just lie there looking helpless and hoping he calms down on his own.

Eventually, he does. He wipes his eyes and nose on my blanket. He opens his bloodshot eyes, blinking away another tear, and looks up at me again.

"...Thanks, Flamey."

I nod a couple times. He rolls over and pulls the blanket up. I smile just a little.

A particularly loud thunderclap draws another sniffle and a small shudder from the otter. Without really thinking about it, I wrap a protective arm around him, which seems to surprise me a lot more than it does him. His body stops quivering. His breathing slowly returns to a calm, unlabored pace.

~

...Three hours pass...and I lie sleepless as the buizel breathes in a slow, quiet rhythm beneath my arm. My eyes gave up being closed an hour ago, so I've been gazing at the rain-spattered window over furball's shoulder. During my stay in the hell of sleeplessness, I've discoursed with myself on many existential concerns, but I've finally run out of things to contemplate.

I force myself to try to sleep again. Stupid buizel...no, it's not his fault. He was just scared is all. I pull him a little closer to me, so that my chest is flush against his back. I'm sure he'd appreciate it if he were awake, considering how warm I am. Hah. Warm. Because I have such an inviting personality. There's a reason other pokemon don't generally get along with me. Especially the ones I want to get along with. Like that espeon...god, what a tease. Wouldn't I have liked to be friends with him. I bet his fur would have been nice and soft...I could have stroked him all day...in more ways than one-oh, fuck.

I realize that my wandering mind has caused a pretty intense hardon to creep its way out of my slit...pressed right up against the furball I'm supposed to be comforting...And apparently I've been stroking his side with my claw. Well aren't I just the best.

I pull my groin away from his backside...with some reluctance...and decide I need to take care of this. I'm definitely filling in desires with physical properties provided by my company in bed tonight, which I shouldn't. Slowly, very slowly, I slide the covers back from my body, exposing me to the cool air. I very carefully lift my arm and remove it from Fuzzface's side. He stirs a little, causing me to freeze for a moment, but he seems to relax again. I roll sideways, as careful as I can to not disturb the blanket too much, and stand up. My arm's a bit sore from being wrapped around my fuzzy companion, but I ignore it for now. For some reason my erection is very insistent. I walk quietly over to the big cozy armchair in the corner and slide on to it as softly as I can. The leather feels somewhat cold against my rear, which just makes my arousal a little worse. I place my claw on my chest and slide it down my tummy scales until it reaches my member. Keeping my palm against my groin, I angle my claws down, so that my cock rests right in the gap between two of them. Fuck...It's been awhile since I've done something like this...

Using my thumb claw, I flick the tip of my member, slickening it with a bead of pre. I wrap my hand around the shaft, gently squeezing it. I hold back a gasp, careful not to make any noise. My hand goes to work automatically, sliding up and down my member in (an all too) familiar stroke. My mind wanders back to that espeon...His seductive smile...his mischievous tail...the mocking tone in his voice as he 'sweetly' denied me his company...Wouldn't I like to stick something in his mouth and shut him up...maybe a ball gag...

Or maybe he could just gag on my dick...

Of course I could just tie him up and spend all day stroking his fur...god that stuff's great...So soft and fleecy...and all over...especially on his balls...ngh...yeah, I'd lick those fuzzy nuts for a while-

The word "fuzzy" triggers thoughts about Fuzzface, bringing me back to reality for a second. I open my eyes and look up at him to make sure he's still...asleep...

...And I meet two amber eyes gazing back at me. My claw grinds to a halt, and I only notice on the last stroke before I pause how loud it's been, no thanks to me pre-ing like a damn water type. Shit. Fuck. God damnit. Shit. I reflexively curl my tail around slightly, but my mind already knows it's way too late to cover up, so the fiery tip stops halfway to concealing my crotch and just casts even more light on the already terrible situation. I feel my cheeks burning, not so much from my own embarrassment but from embarrassment for the otter. I continue to stare at his eyes, afraid to look away. My tongue sits dead in my mouth.

"You can keep going if you want."

My jaw hangs open just a little as the words register. When it finally clicks, my cock responds first, giving a little twang. Fuck.

I stare at Fuzzface with something resembling shock. I want to say something. I want to ask why he said that. I want to be angry with myself for not going to another room like any sensible person would have done. I want to feel ashamed or something, but...mostly...I just want to get off...

My hand hardly waits for my mind to catch up as it gets back to work, rubbing my member in all the right ways. Despite feeling tense from the situation, I let myself breathe a little more freely now...maybe it's because I'm getting closer, maybe it's because I have an active audience, but I'm definitely making a lot of little sighs and gasps I wasn't before. I notice my eyes are closed again, trying to remove myself from the situation, but I glance up at Fuzzface again to make sure he's really okay with me doing this. He seems to be watching with amusement. And...apparently...fondling himself through my sheets...

Well, I guess you learn something every day. Apparently dead mothers are a natural prelude to voyeurism. Go figure.

Regardless, seeing the otter grope himself through the blanket is enough to make my cock give another hard twitch. It appears I had a lot of repressed thoughts about Fuzzballs over there, because all I can think about right now is how hot he looks over there, in my bed, getting his scent all over it; the pre-stained sheets; the...hm...

I take my hand off of my member. A few thin strings of pre break as I do so. "...I don't suppose you want to uh...maybe...join me...over here..."

I'm immediately embarrassed that I said that. Why did I say that?

He giggles, which makes me blush a bit. I had splayed my legs slightly when I made the proposal, but I pull them back a little closer, worried he'll mock me or something. I don't know. Thankfully, he seems to be accepting my offer. He sits up in bed, keeping the sheets pressed down against around the pole between his legs that's tenting them. He stands up on the mattress, pulling the comforter with him. He drapes it around his body, holding it at his shoulders like a majestic cape; unfortunate for me, considering I...only have eyes for what's under it right now? Uh.

He walks over to the chair I'm in pretty quickly, though he stops short of climbing up, instead keeping his head...at about my groin level...which makes me blush all the more as he leans his head forward...

...It's just a quick little touch of his tongue, but it makes me shudder. He keeps smiling that cute, though somewhat more mischievous than at previous, smile of his. He gives my member another small lick. I watch as a bit of my pre follows his tongue back to his mouth. He inhales deeply through his nose, taking in the scent of my arousal. He gives another little giggle, probably slightly giddy from musk. My musk.

My cock throbs mere inches from his face. I almost want to let him just do whatever he wants to me...but...well, I...I want to get him off too. I don't stop him from licking across my cock another couple of times, or from planting a kiss on the tip...I shudder again with that one...but I do eventually put a hand on his head, scritching the back of his neck.

"...Heh...w-...wanna take a seat?"

I use my other hand to pat my lap. He looks up into my eyes. And gives my cock another lick. Then wraps his lips around the tip and gives a soft suck.

"HHhhhohhh-hhh-kay, c-come onnnnh-"

In a great exercise of my willpower, I reach down and grab him under the arms, picking him up and placing him in my lap, facing me. He keeps the blanket draped over his shoulders; when I get him comfortably situated, he pulls it forward and wraps it around me as well. I grip him around the hips and pull him forward, so that he'd be flush against me, were I not reclining slightly in the chair. Though the blanket obscures my view of the space between us with darkness, I can feel his cock leaning against mine, pulsing lightly. I meet his gaze again, much closer this time than at last. We stay that way a moment, perhaps inspecting the other, perhaps simply lost in the other's eyes (probably the latter in my case). Without waiting for his permission, I sneak my hand between us and gently wrap my claws around his member. He coos softly, which I take as a good sign. I slide my hand up and down his shaft a couple times; it's already pretty slick. I angle it away from him so that it sticks straight up between the two of us. My thumb hooks around my member, and I pull it forward so that it presses right up against his.

I look at his face again, watching to see how he reacts. Judging by the blush and the hint of panting in his breath, I figure he's probably enjoying himself. I pause for a moment, just holding our cocks together in my claw, giving the occasional light squeeze.

"...I've never really done...this...before...so just tell me if...y'know..."

He smiles again. I expect him to maybe give me an "okay" or something, but instead, he just kinda...leans in with his lips...gah...

I've never really kissed anyone, so it catches me off guard when, after barely adjusting to the presence of his lips against mine, I feel his tongue pressed against my teeth. I can tell he's still smiling...At some point, my tongue starts dancing with his, and I can only hope I'm a decent kisser. His lips feel so pleasant, pressed against mine...nnhf...

It takes me about a minute of savoring the taste of his mouth before I realize that I'm still incredibly horny. I reach my free claw around his back and pull him even tighter against me. The backs of his thighs rest against the tops of mine; I can feel what I can only imagine to be his balls flush against the base of my cockslit. I tentatively slide my hand from the tips of our cocks to the base, then give another squeeze.

As far as size goes, I've always been pretty well off...but I have to admit, factoring in evolutionary stages, Fuzzface is plain old hung. Which works out well here, actually, since, with him sitting on my lap, our tips line up near perfectly. I slide my claw back up our shafts, causing a sort of slick *squish* sound from all the pre. I give them one more little squeeze at the tip, watching Fuzzy's face as he gives a little moan. As I catch sight of his tongue once again curled against his teeth, though, I can't help but instinctively bring my lips up to meet his, catching the last bit of hot air from his nose against my cheek as he exhales. I really get going with my claw now, using all the pre that's coated the entirety of our dicks to my full advantage. I can't decide which I like better, the warm pulsing of his member against my own, or his tongue as it tickles mine.

I'm pretty sure it'll be a miracle if I last two minutes like this, but at this point I think I'd be fine with that. I just hope that Fuzz feels similarly. I love the feel of his furry chest against my own...his (pretty large) sac against the very base of my cock...his tantalizing, soft scent, intermingled with my somewhat thick, spicier one...

My claw starts moving faster along our members. I sneak my free hand around his back and beneath his tail; gently, I rub between his cheeks, letting a single claw poke at his ring. He gasps into my maw, which makes me smile for some reason. I feel his member give a hard throb; mine returns the favor.

I notice that, strangely enough, Fuzzballs' balls are drawn up really tight. He seems to be getting kind of erratic, thrusting his cock up against mine through my grip. His breathing seems to be heavier; he breaks the kiss, panting, and bends his head down. He slides his hands along the blanket 'cocoon' around us and places his paws on my shoulders. I acquiesce to his body language, leaning back against the chair to give him some leverage. He uses it to his advantage, thrusting even harder, grinding his member down against mine. He gives a pretty audible sigh with each thrust...fuck does he look hot...

To my prolonged surprise, he actually finishes before me. He gives one more hard thrust against me, and as his cock presses into mine, I feel it pulse in tandem with the fuzzy balls tickling my base. He gives a squeaky little yelp as he fires off. The first string lashes across my nose like a whip; I stop looking at his cock to avoid having my eye shot out. Probably for the best, considering the next couple ropes catch me in the throat. I waste little time, setting my tongue about the task of cleaning off my face as I continue to stroke him through his orgasm. His arms start to seem a little wobbly; I stop playing with his tailhole so my free arm can help support him. My chest accumulates a nice, sticky mess as his cock continues to spurt freely. He keeps giving off those cute little moans; I vaguely hope Elan doesn't hear, though at this point I could care less.

His cock keeps twitching in my claw. His seed isn't getting much distance anymore, though his balls continue to churn out some good globs of the stuff which cover both of our members. As horny as I am, I'm too wrapped up in enjoying his orgasm with him to do much for myself, so I just sit there, reveling in his gasps and yips.

Finally, shakily, he lowers himself down slightly. Though I think he could probably do it on his own, I keep supporting him with my free claw some, since I like the feel of his chest fur against my palm. He leans down and licks my nose, on which I seem to have missed a spot, judging by the extra wetness. He moves his nose down against the side of my head, to my neck, where he gives me another few licks. Feeling my lust return in force, I start stroking our members again, the buizel's thick cum making it that much more hot. He gasps again at the sensation of overstimulation. He weakly moves a paw down to my wrist and holds it. I figure he wants me to leave his shaft out of it. I realign my claw so that it just encompasses mine...but he keeps his grip. I look at him, half curious, half pleading. With much reluctance, I let go of my member.

Just as I begin to fear that he's going to toy with me, he bends forward. Way forward. His head snakes down between our chests, towards our-OHhhhgodthatfeelsniiiiice...

As much as I enjoyed having his lips pressed against my own, I like them just as much wrapped around my cock. I'm astounded (and terribly aroused) by his flexibility as he manages to take me to the hilt. His breath is warm against my groin; his tongue laps across the underside of my shaft.

I was already close from my own ministrations, but my orgasm hits hard and fast. I hardly have time to sputter an "Ohgod" and put my hands on his back before I feel that intense tightening in my groin, followed by several hard shots of cum straight to the back of Fuzzface's throat. Although I'm pretty much lost to my euphoria, I feel a twinge of guilt as the otter gags a little from my load. I realize I'm kind of holding him down, so I release some of the pressure on his back. As he pulls off of my cock, a bit of jizz manages to catch him on the cheek. As he catches his breath, my last few spurts add to the nice pool of seed already coating my groin.

Though we're both spent, I'm still not done, so as I lean back, I pull him flush against me again and almost forcefully press my mouth against his. He doesn't seem to mind. The taste of saliva and seed intermingle in my mouth, and I savor the experience.

~

It takes maybe another ten minutes or so before I finally calm down and we stop locking lips. I pull back slowly, curious as to what I might find in his face. I catch myself smiling, which, while unlike me, doesn't seem very out of character at the moment. I'm thankful to find he seems to be smiling too.

"...So...you ...um..." He giggles. I grin along, at something of a loss for words. "...you made quite the mess." He lowers himself down to lay on top of me, causing what amount of the mess on my chest that hadn't already dribbled off my sides and down my crack (or ended up in his head tuft) to squish between us. He rests his chin on my shoulder.

"Glad you don't mind sharing", I say, which elicits another one of those cute giggles from him. "So, I...I didn't think you were...uh...into guys...?"

He pauses for a moment. "Well I've done "stuff" with a couple of girls, an' they were nice, but...I guess I just think you're cute, s'all."

Oh. So I'm the cute one. I hope he can't tell I'm blushing, though judging by the heat of my cheeks I'd be surprised if he can't. He seems to affirm this by nibbling at my neck.

"...This...it's not too...weird, is it?"

His nibbling turns into a playful bite. I still wince a little. He doesn't answer, so I decide to not care.

The rain seems to have mostly abated by now, save for a lone, soft *plink* or two every now and then. As my eyes grow heavy again, I wonder what the morning will bring. Fuzzface pulls the blanket snugly around us again. He yawns. "Night night, Flamey."

For the first time in a long time, I have a very sound sleep in the company of another.