A Bite Too Big
#3 of Downward Spiral
Subject: You have a message waiting for you!
The following message is sitting in your inbox at OnTheProwl.com from Jackingon:
You're profile says you're looking for quick and dirty, no strings. I'd like too meet.
Please do not reply to this email. To return this message, click on this link: www.ontheprowl.com/youraccount/msg394#
(reply) (forward) (delete) (save)
I stared at the screen for a second, then the link. Following Jackingon's name to his profile, I inspected, ignoring the glaring spelling errors. Puma, thirties, built, construction worker. That would explain the handle. Into "raunchy fucking", dirty talk, spanking. No picture. His location wasn't too far out to be a problem.
Sitting back, I licked my lips and stared at the monitor some more.
Over the summer break, I'd gone to a porn store that had booths with holes in them for sucking and fucking a nameless someone. On my first visit I was thrown aside for being a girl, because apparently the booths are a hotspot for desperate gay guys. And, no matter how curveless I may be, a boy I am not. However, I'd returned a time or two, just to enjoy the opportunity to worship male after male with my mouth. To touch another, to get him off, it was a great thrill and ego boost. But I felt detached, and I sure was giving but I wasn't receiving anything out of it, and that's what I needed - someone to touch me. Someone to want me.
Once I came back to college, I decided I needed more, and after some searching, found OnTheProwl, a "hook up" website for booty calls. I filled out a flattering profile and posted a sultry (for me) headshot. Now, two months later, this was the first person to show interest that was into anything remotely vanilla and didn't send "creep" vibes up my spine.
Going back to the mail inbox, I sent him a message letting him know I was interested. I then sent him a message with the where and when: Thursday, seven, parking lot of the Pica Galla Grill on Vine street.
After that, I tried, to no avail, at putting the potential meeting out of my mind. Jackingon's profile didn't give much away, so my imagination and libido began a game of one-upmanship to see which could increase my anticipation the most. It wasn't until the next day, sitting in the computer lab between classes, that I received a response.
He confirmed. No request for directions.
For the next day and a half, everything dragged like that last hour of the school day before summer vacation.
At five thirty on Thursday, I was putting the finishing touches on my hair. Natural curls are great, but sometimes can be a real bitch; you have to tease and comb them, or they get tats. A lot like dense fur and bushy tails, I'm told. I just leave it in a braid to avoid fighting, most days. Tonight it spilled over my shoulders in a riot.
The black of my hair complimented the soft tan of my fur, which I'd made sure looked respectable. Red lipstick to match the turtleneck I was wearing - nice and tight. Even if I don't have the breasts to pull it off, there's just something about a tight, thin sweater that's nice. Besides, it's chilly out. Given that I was wearing ultra-snug, barely there running shorts, and forgoing a tail-sock because it just wouldn't look sexy at all, a sweater wasn't going to help any. Ankle boots with a nice heel finished off the outfit.
Staring into the mirror, it occurred to me that I looked like a hooker. Not an escort, but a corner-perched whore a little too strung out and malnourished. Since I was meeting a guy for a one hour stand, perhaps the thought wasn't far off. I didn't want to think about it.
Glasses clean, purse stocked with wet naps and scent neutralizer, a mini-bottle of mace tucked in my watch band, there was one thing left to do.
"Melisse!"
A grey and black whirlwind, broken by a big cyan t-shirt, be-bopped around the room's limited space. The belt wound around the genet's waist held her mp3 player, providing the music that sent her bod in a gyrating cleaning spree. Among other things, my roommate was a neat freak, and she was a veritable tornado of OCD sometimes.
She also had a body that would take me a month at the gym going 24/7 to get. Melisse was a physical therapy major, a health nut and a dancer, so she was always fit and in motion. I half expected her to wiggle in her sleep. This is why my ass and legs have actually been toned - her flake of an exercise partner couldn't make it with enough frequency that the two of us got into the routine of working out, and while it's done nothing to give me curves, it's certainly helped my definition.
Reaching out, I grabbed her fluffy, ringed tail and gave a tug. She wheeled around, the multitude of grey braids flying everywhere.
I mimed for her to remove the headphones.
"Oui?" Hearing French with a North African accent is so weird.
"I have a big favor to ask of you."
She just peered at me with her big brown eyes, suddenly intrigued. I'd never shared with anyone about my exploits, and I didn't want to start, but...
I licked my lips in hesitation, then handed her a folded slip of paper. "I'm heading out. This is where I will be. If I'm not back by nine o'clock, call my cell. If I don't answer, call the police, and tell them there's a disturbance there." To be more specific, the note said "report a woman's scream", but I didn't want to alarm Melisse even more.
I'd all ready received a visage of grave concern from her. That constant motion that had signified Melisse was gone, leaving her utterly still. It was downright eerie.
Swallowing, I tried a half-truth. "I'm going to a bad part of town, and I'm really scared of getting mugged, or worse." Given how I was dressed, I'm sure she didn't have to question the concern. "I'll have my phone on me, on at all times, but if it's taken..."
For a few moments, given her scrutinizing eyes and back-tilted ears, I was sure she'd say no or try to persuade me not to go. "Oui." The genet strummed a thumb over the note, and then set it on her pillow. "I will. But you make me very afraid for you. This is not like you."
"I know." Those two words held enough worry to make me wince. I shot Melisse a hesitant smile. "I'll tell you about it, when I get back, okay?"
That got a smile, albeit tentative, out of my roommate. "Okay."
* * *
The Pica Galla Grill was just one of the restaurants and bars along the Vine Street Strut - a thoroughfare of places to eat and hang out downtown. On a Thursday though, it wasn't as populated - there was some traffic along the street, and just enough people going up and down the sidewalk that I felt safe enough. From here I could hear the soft Mexican music pumping out of the Grill out onto the sidewalk. Cigarette smoke wafted on the wind, staining the taste of crisp autumn the night.
I was huddled in the combined shadows of a big SUV and the building, watching the parking lot. From here I could see all the cars coming in, while hopefully not being obvious. My hair went into my face, forcing me to fight with it again. The gas guzzler did nothing to protect me from the stiff wind that kept sweeping through the lot.
Checking my watch for the fourteen millionth time told me that he was two minutes late. I was starting to- no, I was nervous. What if he didn't show? What if he did?
All of my opportunities to quietly kvetch ended with the slam of a truck door.
Work boots thumped across the concrete as he walked towards the tail of his truck. Pale light, bleeding in from the street, backlit him and cast his features into shadow. But his frame was obvious: broad, all wide shoulders, big arms and big paws. From here I could tell he wasn't too tall, but clearly taller than me, which wasn't saying much. I could make out the denim of his jacket, while what I could only guess as his jeans were darker. He also had a slight gut, probably from one too many beers, but it didn't take much away from the rest of his build.
He was here. Oh god. Cold fear snatched up my stomach and pushed it up into my throat.
Jack just stood there, turning his head around. My hiding place must have been good.
Which meant I still had time to back out if I wanted to. For several seconds I stood there, clinging to the SUV. But I couldn't back out now. I'd spent all this time thinking, anticipating this; if I turned tail, there's no way I could build up the nerve to go through with it again. I was so close. There were some other things I told myself that, in retrospect, were just as flimsy a rationalization as the others.
I swallowed my stomach and stepped out into the light. Instead of walking towards him, I leaned against the back of the SUV and whistled.
He looked my way. I still couldn't see his expression, but at least he was walking towards me.
As he got closer, my throat tightened. It was a struggle to breathe by the time I could make out the details of his face. Like the rest of him, his face was box-like, especially his muzzle; broad, with those dark crescents on either side. His gold-green eyes looked me up and down. Was that interest I saw in them?
"Red?" The single word was thick with a Native accent, like he'd just stepped off some reservation. It made low parts of me tense up.
For the first time, a man looked at me the way Jack did, and it pushed me off that SUV, made me walk right up to him. I was so scared, but for a second I was swept up in some sort of excited wind. I felt on top of things. That's why I stuck my hip out and said, "I don't see anyone else in red around here."
He smiled that smile men wear when they're talking about breasts or blowjobs with their friends. Two long steps of his and he was up next to me, then walking around me. Those eyes looked up every inch, and suddenly his hand was on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze as he rounded my front again. I felt tiny against his bulk.
Then he pushed me back against the SUV. As I hit it, a squeak popped out of me, and I was just about to say something when his mouth crushed against my muzzle.
The force of it pinned my head to the window behind me, and he kissed me like he was trying to screw his mouth into mine. I tasted the weird sensation of a tongue for the first time; maybe it was just the roughness of it, but the wet, swirling muscle felt odd as it abused my tongue. Once I got over the alien sensation, I shuddered right down to my toes and hugged his neck, clinging to him. About then, one of those big, broad paws found and squeezed my ass. I think I came.
Somehow the SUV's trunk handle jabbing my back wasn't a problem.
Muzzles broke, me panting and him purring. He rubbed his maw between my ears, along my forehead, just nuzzling into my hair. All the while he just kept squeezing my butt, rolling it through his fingers. When he started rubbing up, between my cheeks, I moaned and buried my face in his neck
The cruel bastard stopped, pulling his head back. "We should not be in the middle of the road."
"Uh huh," I said eloquently.
There wasn't much resistance when he dragged me up against the bricks between the cars. As my back hit the wall, I arched, pushing my breasts into his hands. Oh god. Those big mitts kneaded me like a prize masseuse, swirling over my nipples better than I could. His sharp nails prickled through my sweater, poking the skin under my fur, and all I could do was wiggle and moan.
Something inside of me said to grab his crotch. I reached out and sunk his package into my palm, and I squeezed it. In the darkness his eyes got fairly big, and the expression that followed made me want to milk more of that look out of him. I started using both hands, one toying with the weight of his balls through the denim, while the other just slowly stroked up and down his hard on through the front of his jeans. When I squeezed his tip, the cat growled. Unzipping, I slid my delicate little hand inside and wrapped my fingers around him.
Jack's cock was a lot like most cats I'd seen in the porn theatres and glory holes. It was medium sized, a little thick, but the main attraction was the little long bumps that went all over it, like a subdued fleshy pine cone. I put my thumb on a nub under his glans and just wiggled it until he grunted and bucked in my paw.
Frantically I fought to open his jeans up, letting me see the pink flesh in the dim light. I couldn't wait to get it inside of me.
Neither could he.
Without further preamble, he grabbed my shoulders with both hands and turned me around.
Digits jammed into the back of my waist and snapped down, snagging my shorts and yanking. The motion was so vicious it felt like he'd clawed me, but the pain was an illusion and an enhancement to the savage aggression. I gasped as the cool air nipped at my bare ass. Though the slap that clapped off my right cheek definitely hurt, causing me to grunt through my nose. He squeezed it in apology and tried to rub it better, while his other paw wrapped around my tail and pulled it up.
I just looked over my shoulder at him through my hair.
Something about my face must have set him off, because the next thing I knew, my breasts were up against the bricks, and my feet weren't touching the ground. My legs thrashed (the shorts around my ankles made it real awkward) while I tried to figure out what was going on, but I got it the instant I felt his shaft against my thigh. He'd picked me up under my arms and pinned me to the wall.
The tip of his cock nudged against me, and all I could do was arch my back and push against it. I squeezed it with my thighs. It felt so big. I moaned out the breath that I didn't know I was holding.
Oh god, it was finally happening.
He pushed in, and I really didn't hear the noises we both made. He kept working to get inside of me, wrenching his hips side to side, and finally he sank in all the way, his crotch cupping me from behind. The back of my head touched his chest, and for a moment I was just pinned there by his bulk and the cold stone, feeling him throb inside of me. Not sure how long we basked in it.
Holding me tight to the wall with his chest, Jack began to pump into me. It was slow but rough; he was putting force behind every motion I guess, his hips were really churning. Those bumps grated over my insides and especially over the edge of my mound as he dragged back. Jack pushed in all the way, kept pushing, and I could do nothing but squeak and kick my feet.
Then he planted his hands wide on either side of me and leaned his upper body back. I scrambled a second, afraid of falling, but there was little to grab on to; all I could do was prop against the wall or his chest, while all of my weight was held up by his crotch, putting so much pressure on that one little spot. It was so intense my toes curled. So focused on the feeling, I couldn't really see or hear anything. I squeezed the fuck out of him with my insides.
The bastard started bouncing me. I have no other way to describe it; he shoved upwards, I slid up, and then dropped back down to have him bang up against me again. Kind of like a grandpa bouncing a kid on his knee, but far more adult and erotic. The impact of us meeting and I being airborne for a short second was almost painful, and powerfully hot.
Had it not been for the wall my knees and glasses and chest kept banging into, it would've been amazing. When my chin clipped the bricks, I yanked my head back and yelled, "Stop! Stop, let me down!"
With a huff of breath he hugged me, and slowly let my feet touch the ground again. Jack was still inside of me, and I had to bend forward against the wall, or else be robbed of him. My forehead against the cool stone, I asked, "Where did you learn that?"
"Yoga instructor," he rumbled out in a husky chuckle that told me he was smiling. Without losing a beat, he started grinding up against me. All I could do was laugh and wind my tail around his waist and squeeze.
Grinding became thrusting. Thrusting became pounding. Pounding became maddening. I clung to the wall, let out a train of squeaking pants, and hiked my butt up for more as he jabbed inside of me. I could feel every little bump of his shaft as it buried inside me too many times to count. It felt blissful and almost uncomfortable, like I imagine his rough tongue would feel lapping over my nipple.
I think a car went by, because light swept across our little corner. With my head turned to the side, I could see the light slide across Jack's paw. Light reflected off something yellow and metallic.
A wedding ring.
The sight of it punched me in the gut. It felt as though I was on a rollercoaster and just after the second plunge, I get sick in the pit of my stomach, dizzy and disoriented; I wanted off the ride now but it was too late.
My traitorous libido disagreed with me: my back bowed as Jack grabbed one of my breasts and squeezed, the frantic molestation grinding his palm against my nipple; for a few seconds breath was lost to me as I felt his balls slap against the back of my thigh; the ragged moan that dragged out of my throat was hard to deny. Keeping up with my moral indignation was getting harder by the pelvic twitch.
Ever see one of those TV shows where the character will get into a situation that suddenly pits them in the middle of a tug of war between the angel and devil on their shoulders? If I was having one of those moments, my angel was berating me for being a whore while my devil ate popcorn and shot me the thumbs up.
He let up the crushing collision of his crotch against mine, leaned back, and grabbed my tail. The puma hauled it up, forcing me to arch more, and started to move fast, rocking on his feet and the hand he planted on the wall between my ears. With very breath I tasted the spilt spoiled cologne of sex clinging in the air. Inside of me, the tension was building like some coiled spring, and for just a moment I thought I was going to pass out.
I came. If he hadn't been pinning me like he did, I think I would've hit the ground, because I was gone, carried off on some internal rollercoaster, like nothing I'd had with my vibrators. Everything else was a blur; the feel of stone under my fingers, a yank at my tail, the noise we made, the weight on top of me.
He must have come too, because when I was aware of myself again, he was slumped over me. We laid there for I don't know how long, just trying to learn how to breathe again.
I'd done it.
On shaky legs, I managed to slither out from under him and stand. Given how my muscles moved, things were going to be sore in the morning. I felt like a whore. But one look at him, at that satisfied expression, I realized that he'd fucked me. Me, not some orifice on the other side of a wall. I'd got him off, he loved it. I'm proud. Powerful. Accomplished. Energized. Dare I say it, satisfied. I kept repeating those words in my head.
Without a word, eye contact, or pulling up my shorts, I walked away. I was done with him, and I'm sure the feeling was mutual. The understanding of no strings was obvious, there was no way to cuddle in a parking lot, and I just wanted to be away from him.
I slid into my car, onto the towel I'd put down ahead of time. With the door locked, I turned the key. Low heat thrummed from the dashboard, and I suddenly got a nose full of sex. Pungent and thick, it made me recoil and shake a little. I closed my thighs, which smeared the stuff even more, and I could feel it starting to get cold. With I jerk I yanked my legs open and slapped my fist on the steering wheel with a pitiful squeak, my eyes squeezed shut.
Breathe, girl. It's okay.
The cleaning stuff was in my purse. As I collected it and began to wipe up the mess, I breathed out through my mouth and talked out loud. "Okay. Face facts. He used me, he didn't want me, he just wanted escape from his wife or whatever. Not how it's supposed to work, sure, but that's a risk I take doing this." The wipes slid over my sticky fur, and I had to put my nails into it to get the gunk out of my fur, which of course started to cut the naps. "But I'm good enough. I'm nice enough to fuck. I'm worth it. The next guy will want me. It'll be okay. I'm worth it. He'll see."
Once everything was salvageable enough to pull up the shorts still around my ankle, I put everything else back in place. In the rearview mirror, my hair was in disarray, lipstick mussed, but I was okay. I'm strong. I did it. Now it was time to move on.
Looking at the clock on my dashboard, it was 7:53. Which meant it was 7:46, because this one's slow. It would take me fifteen to get to campus, but I decided to call Melisse and let her know not to worry about me.
"Hello?"
"Hey," I said, my voice steady as a board.
"Margo," she said, relieved and concerned. "Are you all right?"
You know that little shuddering breath thing you do right before you're going to cry? Yeah, I did that. It slipped out the moment I opened my mouth. I was going to say 'yes', but as the shakiness in my voice reached my ears, all that came out was a mournful "No."
Once I said that, the dam broke. It all just came flooding out, me sobbing into the phone.