Late after work
Wow, would you believe that in all my years of writing, this is actually my first solo story? =^.^= There's probably plenty wrong with it, but I doodled out the idea at work, started writing it, then stared myself blind on it for two months because I got stuck, and then finally decided to just get off my lazy tail and finish it. So here we go, enjoy! =~.^=
Gwendolyn Paula McGuire is © my li'l old self
"...That was "Toulouse Street" of the Doobie Brothers. And that was it for tonight, dear listeners. In a few minutes, Robert and Jeanine will take my place to help you through the rest of the night, up till six o'clock, after which David brings you Breakfast Radio till nine o'clock. Listen again next week to the Gwen McGuire Show, from midnight till three AM. This was your late-night hostess Gwen McGuire, and up to the commercials and the three o'clock news, here is Racoon, telling you that "Every day... I love you... more"."
The calm tones of the guitar music replaced the warm, soft, rich yet mellow voice. With a soft sigh, the owner of the voice shut off her microphone and rolled her chair back from the console, taking off her headphones with one paw while running her other paw over her face and whiskers.
Gwendolyn Paula McGuire. At the age of 31, she was not a feline you would give a second look when you passed her on the street. And that had actually always been so. She was, in every sense of the word; plain. Her figure was moderate, with 5'4" even on the short side, a modest 32B cup bosom, and short arms and legs. Her ears were small, her whiskers short, her fur, though sleek and glossy, a mere dim grey with plain black tabby stripes, her just-below-shoulder-length hair black and simply straight. Her eyes were a medium yellow, no more and no less, and a tad too far apart in her square-ish face with an insignificant jaw line and a slightly too broad nose and round, blunt muzzle. There was nothing fancy about her, everything was just plain normal; someone you would see, and forget the moment you passed her by on the street. She was not ugly, or even unattractive to look at, she was just... plain.
No, Gwendolyn McGuire would never be a super-model or a movie star. There was only one thing remarkable about this plain grey and black tabby kittycat; her voice. With a smooth, rolling timbre, a mellow richness and an almost soothing softness, laced with the slightest of a British accent, it was a voice that one loved to listen to, that put one almost immediately at ease; a voice that induced comfort.
She had never drawn much attention to her person. In her childhood, Gwendolyn had gone through school unnoticed, mostly on her own with not many friends, getting average grades and graduating as merely one of the very many parts of a percentage, a statistic making up the grade-curve. She had never had any special interests, nor talents. There was only one passion in her life, insofar you could speak of a passion; music. Gwendolyn loved music. And even more importantly; she knew music. It was that love for music, and the remarkable quality of her voice, that had eventually brought Gwen to the world of the radio.
And this was where the short, plain grey and black tabby cat began getting noticed. Her warm, mellow, soothing voice over the airwaves attracted many listeners, people began asking for her when phoning the radio station. Within a year, Gwendolyn had her own program; the Gwen McGuire Show, broadcast from midnight till three AM on Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays. These four days of every week were started off by the warm, soothing tones of Gwendolyn's voice, and it was only a matter of weeks before the Gwen McGuire Show had the highest listener rating of all the programs broadcast by WTRF, the local radio station of the town where Gwendolyn lived.
As she sat up in her chair after having run her paw over her face, the grey and black tabby cat heaved another soft sigh, her eyes gliding routinely over the console, all the knobs and switches and little lights. She flicked a switch here and there, programming the equipment to automatically run the block of commercials preceding the news broadcast after the Racoon song she had put on had ended. Behind her, a fox and a fennec vixen already entered the studio booth from where Gwen's show was aired, as after Gwen's show, the show of the Robert and Jeanine she had mentioned in her finishing talk was aired from the same studio booth. Jeanine was the fennec, Robert was the fox, and they both smiled at Gwen as they got their things ready.
"Good show, Gwen," said Robert.
"As always," Jeanine added with a giggle.
"Thanks," Gwendolyn smiled, grabbing her last, half-empty cup of coffee from the console and stifling a small yawn. "You guys have a good one too. Goodnight."
"Night, Gwen," Jeanine smiled.
"Yes, goodnight. See you next week," Robert nodded with a smile.
They quickly arranged their things and took their seats, putting on a pair of headphones and switching on their mikes, against the background sound of the news being read from an adjacent studio booth. Gwen slipped out of the booth and softly closed the door behind her after having grabbed her bag. Sipping the last coffee from her cup, she calmly stepped through the corridors of the studio building, waving quiet greetings at the other few furs she passed on her way out. In the lobby, she downed the last of the lukewarm coffee and crumpled the paper cup, tossing it in the waste basket next to the entrance doors as she stepped outside into the darkness of the night.
She stifled another yawn and shivered slightly, pulling her coat a bit tighter around her. It wasn't very cold, but with spring only just having settled in, the wee hours of morning tended to still be a tad nippy, especially when you stepped out of a central-heated building. Turning up the collar of her coat, Gwen rummaged in her bag as she stepped across the parking lot, looking for, and eventually finding, her car keys. She quickened her pace. She was tired. She wanted to get home. A cup of decent tea, a scone or a sponge cake for a late-night snack maybe, and then sleep, that was all the tabby cat desired.
A couple of yards furtheron, Gwen reached her car. Though it seemed to radiate with an almost radio-active glow in the orange-ish light of the natrium floodlights that illuminated the parking lot, the old car was as plain as Gwendolyn was herself. A 1971 Ford Pinto two-door, in a bland, faded 70's limegreen color, streaks of rust running along the seams of the sheetmetal; a very anonymous, inconspicuous car. However, it brought the smallish, inconspicuous grey and black tabby cat where she had to be without troubles, and that's what mattered, after all. Getting in behind the wheel, Gwen started the engine, switched on the headlights, and drove home as quickly as the darkness and the laws allowed her.
The streets were as good as empty. The monotonous drone of the engine and the tires humming on the tarmac got dangerously close to lulling Gwendolyn into a doze. She turned on the radio to keep herself awake, yawned again. She loved her job, but by golly, driving home at 3:15 in the morning was so dull, so lonesome. And each morning, the grey and black tabby cat came home to an empty house... Reaching East 22nd Street, Gwen sighed softly as she parked her car on the driveway of her little house, got out, locked the car, and stepped into her small house.
It was as inconspicuous as all the rest about Gwendolyn. Sandwiched between two quite large, colonial-style houses, it seemed as if it was either the garage of one of the two larger houses, made into a small house, or if it had been merely built there to fill up the space that had accidentally been left between the two large houses. Still, it was more than enough for Gwendolyn, living alone with not much need for a lot of room or luxury.
Leaving her coat on the coat rack, Gwendolyn stepped into the small kitchen and put a kettle of water on the stove. She rummaged in a cabinet or two for a cup and the jar of tea bags, and when the whistling of the kettle told her that the water was boiling, she filled her cup and dangled a tea bag into it, twirling it slowly, turning the hot water a deeper and deeper tannid color. Taking a lump of sugar, the tabby slid it into the cup along the small spoon she had placed into it, looking into the cup, watching the lump of sugar slowly crumbling into loose grains which she slowly stirred through the tea. She took a slow sip, sighed again, and a very soft smile curled her lips as the hot tea warmed her insides with a pleasant glow.
She stood up, holding the cup of tea with both paws as she stepped into the small but cozy livingroom. The light of a streetlamp outside falling in through the window provided enough illumination for the grey and black tabby cat to find her way. She flicked on the stereo and pressed the play button on the CD player. A soft ballad flowed from the speakers, causing the small smile on Gwen's face to deepen slightly. Sinking down on the small couch, she sipped her tea again, her tail giving a light flick at the slow waves of warmth spreading down her short, compact body. Leaning back on the couch, she closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, holding it for a moment or two before opening her eyes again. The warmth in her body grew rapidly, helped by the hot tea, the heater being on, and the quite thick clothes Gwendolyn was wearing.
Setting down her teacup, the grey and black tabby cat took off her sweater, laying it next to her on the couch. Underneath, she was wearing a light undershirt, and after a moment's thought, she took that off as well. Sitting back in her long pants and plain white bra, Gwendolyn took her teacup again and took another sip of her tea, twitching her short whiskers lightly. This was much better already.
Almost absently, Gwen trailed the fingers of her free paw through the fur on her chest, tracing the line of one of her tabby stripes. Ever so gradually, her fingers traveled upwards a little, eventually following the line between the fur of her breast and the plain white fabric of her bra. A soft shiver again rolled through the grey and black tabby's body, though this time it had nothing to do with sipping the warm tea. Her breath deepened just a little bit, and before Gwen even knew it, her fingers had unclasped her bra and slipped the straps off her shoulders. Leaning back a bit more, Gwen let the simple white undergarment fall into her lap, closing her eyes with a smile as her fingers traced up along the curve of her modest breasts.
With slow, almost trance-like motions, the tabby kitty trailed her fingers further upwards, to her collarbone, then let them slide down again. A soft, quivering sigh escaped her muzzle as her fingers found one of her deep dark, almost black nipples. The small nub perked, sending a wave of warm tingles rolling through Gwen's body, traipsing along her spine, down to the black tip of her tail and into her small round toes, and back up again to collect in her loins. She let out another slightly quivering sigh, resting her head on the back of the couch, her eyelids fluttering a bit although her eyes did not open as her fingers now more deliberately caressed her nipple, sending more jolts of warm, pleasureable tingling down her spine.
Gone were the thoughts of her hot cup of tea, gone were the thoughts of having a small snack, vanished had the longing to crawl into bed to sleep. The warmth, the tingles, the pleasure had taken matters into their own hands, filling Gwendolyn's brain and directing her subconscious. Unaware even of doing it, the tabby cat rolled her now hard, tingling nipple between her thumb and pointer finger, every now and then tugging it gently, while her other paw slid down her tummy, tossed aside the bra lying in her lap, undid the fastenings of her pants and pushed them down. A shiver ran through Gwen's body as her plain white panties followed, her sleek grey and black tabby fur rippling from the caress of fresh air against the sensitive lips of her sex, which had the same deep dark, almost black color as her nipples.
A swift motion of one leg kicked pants and panties across the livingroom, leaving Gwen naked on the couch. She sagged a bit, her eyes still closed, her breath deep and slow. Both paws traveled up along her body, cupping her modest breasts, fingers sprawled along the gentle curves. A soft squeeze brought a moan to the feline's lips, her whiskers giving a soft twitch in time with the flutter of her eyelids. Further upwards traveled her fingers, sliding over both her nipples now, the black nubs jutting out of the paler grey fur covering the tabby cat's front. Her fingers caressed slowly, rolled her nipples, tweaked them every now and then, circled around the smooth areolas.
Gwendolyn moaned softly. Her desire grew as her body filled with the waves of warm tingles her nipples sent through her. There was a soft, steady hum in her head that slowly increased into a pleasant buzz. Her tail flicked back and forth with a mind of its own. Her eyes closed completely as slowly, gradually, one of her paws slid down from her moderate bust, traveling south across her light grey tummy towards its destination between her legs. A damp warmth guided Gwen's fingers to find the quivering, sensitive lips of her longing vagina, brushing against the black outer labia, tracing the line of her slick slit.
"Ahhh..."
Another soft moan escaped the grey and black tabby cat at the touch her fingers administered to her slowly wettening sex. She tilted back her head slightly, pressing herself against the back of the couch. Slowly her fingers worked, tracing only their tips along the outer lines of her swelling labia, softly, gently, tantalizingly. A shudder coursed through Gwendolyn's body as the tips of her fingers traced a slow circle around her clitoral hood, slid down along both sides to pull back the fleshy flaps, exposing her hardened clit to the coolness of the air around her.
"Mmmrrrrr..."
Gwen's moan turned into a quavering purr as her clit perked to the cool air, another shudder going through her body at the touch of her fingertip to the sensitive little nub. Her other paw also left her breasts, sliding down towards the warmth between her legs. Explorative fingers traced up and down along her slit, collecting the small droplets of milky fluid that started pearling between the fleshy black labia. Soft mewls eventually began to roll from Gwen's muzzle as the fingertips of both her paws traced and teased her trembling pussy. She tilted her head back a bit further, slowly rolling it left and right against the back of the couch. Her legs spread further, trembling, her small toes flexing and curling as her fingers grew more bold in their exploration, her muzzle sinking open to give way to her short huffs of breath. Her clit perked to the attention her fingers were giving it, more warm juices gathering between her swollen sexlips.
Eventually, Gwendolyn couldn't take it anymore. Her own slow teasing had built the smoldering desire inside her body into hot flames of passion. She needed release, and she needed it quickly.
Holding the slick black lips of her pussy open with pointer finger and middle finger of her left paw, she gave short, quick circurlar rubs to her aroused clit with her left thumb while first one, then two fingers of her right paw found their way past the tabby kitty's labia and slid into the wet warmth of her juicy tunnel. Pushing deeper, twisting, curling to let the fingertips brush across that so special, sensitive ribbled area of her g-spot. A low, long, quavering moan rolled from Gwen's opened muzzle as her fingers found that special spot, her back arching, the fur on her tail poofing out slightly at the first contact.
"O-ooooooohhhhh..."
Faster her fingers worked. She pulled them back, only the tips of her fingers remaining buried between her slick folds, then pushed back in. Her left fingers kept holding her trembling pussylips parted, her left thumb pressing down upon her clit and rolling it against the soft fur and warm skin of her mound. Pulling back, pushing in again. Gwen gradually increased the speed of her motions, her fingers pumping into her swollen pussy with soft squishy sounds as her juices leaked out. She spread and stretched her legs, her little toes curled, her tail twitching left and right with almost nervous spasms. The buzz in her head grew louder, all but blocking out the sound of her gasped purrs. Faster yet became the thrusts of her fingers, reaching for the wonderful release of the orgasm Gwen felt building up inside herself.
"Nnnnng-uhhh... nyahhhhh... mmmrrrrr, ohh, ohh, ahhhhh..."
She moaned and mewled, gasped and purred in ever shorter breaths. Her back now continuously arched, her hips shocking as the climax came closer and closer. Stretching, reaching... almost there...
All too sudden, it was over. With a last push of her fingers, Gwendolyn shoved herself over the edge. The feelings collected into one big wave, rushing through her arched, trembling body from the tips of her ears to the tip of her tail and her little toes. A gush of warm, sticky fluids flowed from her cramping pussy, her vaginal walls clenching down upon her fingers like a vice, as if trying to keep them trapped within herself forever. Her toes curled and dug into the carpet, her head tossing back as a yowl of orgasmic relief rolled from the tabby cat's wide-open muzzle.
"Mmmrrrrreeeoowwwwwrrrrr!!"
Only slowly, the waves of pleasure died down. Gwendolyn relaxed, sinking back down on the couch, slumped, spent, satisfied. She panted, beads of sweat pearling all over her stocky, average body. A soft twitch went through her as she pulled her soaked fingers from her sticky, now quite sensitive black pussy. Opening her eyes, Gwen brought her right paw up to her face, looking at the shimmering juices dripping from her fingers. A soft, panted giggle rolled from her lips as the line from the Racoon song she had ended her radio show with flashed through her mind.
"Every day, I love you more..."
She murmured it softly between her purred gasps of breath as she licked her sticky fingers. Good heavens, had she needed that...