Needlestick
The factory was large and low, skulking at the bottom of the hill to its rear like a soldier hiding in a shell scrape. It was a cheaply made construction of corrugated steel and thin walls of pebble-dashed stone. The actual factory area was hidden by the office complex, filled with office workers and managers and secretaries and supervisors and anyone else that management deemed necessary to sell the goods Kefken Extrusions. Just ordinary people, doing just enough to pay the bills.
Damien glanced at the nearest window and thought of home. It was twelve feet away and the blind was at three-quarter mast. He was left with a one by six feet rectangle of dull green that shimmered almost imperceptibly from the heat of the radiator just below. He sighed and put down the phone again. He crushed down the temptation to look at the clock. The last thing he needed was for time to move any more slowly.
Damien was employed in the pay office. Simply put, he sat in front of a computer and filled in endless spreadsheets, something to do with the tax accounting. It was tedious in the extreme and a complete waste of a pretty decent degree, but it all helped to pay the numerous creditors who had supported his time at Valley University.
Movement in the corner of his eye drew his attention back to his monitor. A small cartoon wolf in military fatigues pounced onto the start menu and rolled twice. It crouched down and opened fire at his desktop icons, covering his screen in tiny bullet holes. It was a harmless little program that he had managed to sneak past the computer guys, an unofficial herald of knocking-off time. Installing it was against most of the IT rules and could theoretically get him fired. The small, pointless act of rebellion signalled the end of another working day.
The rat yawned and stretched, his back creaking as his paws reached for the sky. He unclipped his "DAMIEN" name tag and tossed it into his desk drawer. A furtive, coy glance around him to check the cost was clear. He pulled a mirror from the same drawer and examined his fur for signs of premature grey hairs, which had turned his father white at the age of sixteen.
"Least I still have my looks" he muttered, finding no deviation from the deep, rich brown.
He swept his jacket onto his shoulders and stood up. All around him, the rest of his colleagues did the same, leaving behind dreary cubicles and joyless break rooms. Everyone seemed to gain a small lift to their chins or a little more light to their eyes as they headed back to their families. Even Damien felt his spirits raise a little as he found his place in the car park and drove his rusty, trusty Austin Metro away from the building.
The heavy drizzle turned into heavy rain, seemingly tired of doing such a half-assed job of precipitation. The repetitive tapping of raindrops on the roof of his car and the featureless roads was hypnotic, and took all sense of time away. Before he knew it, he was on his home street. He pulled up outside a three storey building. It had been built to be the home of a Victorian engineer, but it had been converted into flats for people with small budgets and needs. Damien lived on the top floor.
The rat killed the music and the engine in turn. Damien carried on singing unaccompanied while he locked the car. There was a definite spring in his step as he clambered up the stairs and unlocked the door to the place he called home.
"Hello? You back yet?"
His lover was already there. The handsome rat was lying on the sofa in his shabby grey dressing gown and reading a book, but he looked up and smiled as Damien entered.
"Eh up, mi duck!" said John, dropping into the accent of his childhood. "Rough day?"
John had lived in the area since he was two, and he felt comfortable there. He was a low-level manager at a local computer firm, making sure that the engineers turned up at the right house. He was tall and lean, with a taut body and a long, thick tail. When they went out together socially John usually found himself attracting considerable attention from uninformed young ladies. Damien still lusted after him the same as he had when they first met, though he had lived with him for three years. It was something to look forward to while he was at work, something to think about instead of office politics and JSF-112 forms. John had helped him to give up smoking and worrying excessively about the future. John was, in Damien's opinion, the best thing that had ever happened to him
Damien tossed his jacket into the closet and gave him a weak smile. "Same as always. What time did you get back?"
"About forty minutes ago. I managed to sniper off a little early."
"Fair enough. How's life in the computer industry?"
"Still living the dream. Another big virus hit today, so we've been rushed off our feet."
"Sounds thrilling. Want some coffee?"
"Oh, go on then. You twisted my arm, you silver tongued devil."
Damien went to the kitchen and filled the kettle from the tap. John must have had one of his irregular bouts of domesticity, for the tap was gleaming in the light filtering through the yellow lamp shade. It made a pleasant change to not have to tidy up when he came back from work. It was nice, but also suspicious.
Wonder what this is in aid of? He thought.
He hummed his way through more of his repertoire and carried two cups of instant coffee over to where John was sitting. John swung his legs onto the floor and sat up, taking the drink with a warm smile. He looked up at his boyfriend and smiled. Damien was shorter and built along sturdier lines, with a broad chest, a thick neck and a longer, broader tail. He was a little soft around the middle, but John liked him like that: he wouldn't have changed him for the world. It was nice to see him in a nice mood for once. He knew that Damien found his job depressing.
Damien flicked John's tail out of the way and sat down beside him, putting his arm around his shoulder. John reciprocated and they sat in silence for a few minutes, watching TV together and simply enjoying being close to each other. The news was full of the usual violence and horror. In their warm flat, with the rain drumming on the windows and the thermostat on high, it was hard to believe such things existed.
John took a sip of his drink and then remembered something. He fumbled underneath the sofa and pulled out two envelopes. One was thin and brown and probably expensive. The other was broader, thicker and white.
"Just remembered: these arrived for you just after you left this morning. One of them has a "MarTech" postmark." he grinned.
"MarTech? Already?"
"Here you go. Hurry up and open it, I've been dying to know what it says all day"
Damien tossed the brown envelope to one side and focused on the thicker white one. The familiar MarTech logo was there on the top left corner, and it was addressed to him and not to "The Occupier". MarTech was the fourth largest manufacturer of drugs and medicines in the world. He'd recently interviewed for a job on their research team, a foot in the door of a company that would use his brain and not just his telephone. He tore the white paper apart and unfolded the letter, letting the shredded envelope fall to the floor.
"Hey, now who's being messy? Well, what does it say?"
Damien read both pages quickly, and his smile grew wider and wider. John watched him nervously, ready to congratulate or commiserate. Suddenly, he threw the letter over his shoulder and then threw himself on top of John, who giggled and hugged back as Damien squeezed him tightly.
"I passed the second interview! I got the job!" he cried.
John opened his muzzle slightly and allowed Damien to kiss him. His kiss was more eager than skilful, too excited for finesse. The pleasure of seeing Damien so happy more than made up the deficit. Damien leapt to his feet and punched the air and bouncing on his toes like a boxer. He was almost shaking with excitement.
"Yes! FUCK YOU, KEFKEN EXTRUSIONS!"
He dropped down next to John, giggling like a lunatic while the student that lived downstairs screamed at them to shut up already. His boyfriend joined in the laughter and snuggled up close beside him.
"Aww, well done. We should go out and celebrate. Neither of us is at work tomorrow."
Damien took a deep breath to steady himself and then turned to his partner, the faintest suggestions of a smile lingering at the corners of his mouth. He reached up, stroked John's cheek and then planted a kiss upon the blunt side of his muzzle.
"Why go out and celebrate? I have everything I need right here."
"Sounds like a party to me..."
They kissed again, their tongues entwining like snakes in mating bond. This time, Damien kissed with all the skill and passion he could bring to bear. They held the kiss as they began to undress each other. John quickly unbuttoned Damien's shirt (accidentally tearing one out in the process) while Damien easily unpicked the loose knot that held John's dressing gown closed
"Have I told you how much I love you?" He asked, kissing John's neck and peeling the robe away from his shoulders.
"Not recently."
"Mmm. I should do it more often."
John turned his body more fully towards Damien and raised his chin, the end of his tail flickering while he stroked the other rat's chest. Their bodies reacted predictably to the petting and stroking, both cocks swelling and stretching the sheaths that contained them.
The phone rang, unheeded and almost unnoticed. Damien chuckled as John prodded his middle with an ironic lift of his eyebrow and his own paw descended ever closer towards his lover's crotch. His other paw smoothed and ruffled the inside of John's thigh, moving closer towards his groin by barely perceptible degrees. There was no hurry. They had all evening and all night, and all morning too if it were required.
John's paws reached it's target first. Damien's sheath was almost completely withdrawn away from his full, thick rathood. He cupped his paw over Damien's swollen member and began to rub up and down, making steady strokes from the base of his sheath to the pointed tip and back down again. Damien's breath caught in his throat for the barest of instants, his blink lasting longer than it should.
"Couldn't do better myself," he breathed, when he opened his eyes.
"I know, but try anyway."
Damien cupped John's balls in his left paw and squeezed. He weighed them in his grip and rubbed between the testicles with his thumb, and then onto the orbs either side. He tugged upon them carefully and used his other paw to stroke and tickle the emerging tip of John's rathood. As it grew against his palm he curled his fingers around it, pulling upward from the base all the way to the tip, twisting his grip and then sliding back down again.
"Mmmm. That's a great start, duck." Said John.
With Damien's cock sandwiched between two paws, John rubbed in contrary circles with the flat of his palms. He was rewarded with groans of appreciation and slow, lingering kisses. John was largely silent except for his breathing, which got steadily heavier as Damien increased the pressure and the speed.
His lover's sudden movement caught him by surprise. Just as it was starting to feel really good, John kissed his neck and ran into the kitchen.
"Wh � hey! Get back here, you!"
"Be right back!"
Damien listened impatiently as John rummaged through a drawer. He came back holding an old cigar box. Damien didn't smoke anymore, and the little wooden container had found a new purpose. He pulled out a condom and a small bottle of lube, which he set on the floor beside Damien's feet.
"Where exactly did you think I was going to go?" he chuckled, kneeling down and tearing open the foil wrapper.
Damien gave him a sheepish grin.
"Damned if I know."
John rolled the condom down over Damien's erection and gave it the lightest of squeezes between thumb and fingertips. Damien drew breath sharply for a moment, then smiled as the rat stood up and pressed the tube into his paw.
"Here, make yourself useful," he said, bending over in front of his lover.
With a smile, Damien obeyed. First, he squidged a little of the thick, smooth gel onto his fingertips and worked it in around his hot little entrance. When most of the lube had left his fingers he applied more, slowly slipping his finger deeper inside with every application. John made fists and grunted with satisfaction, his tail drooping and straightening depending on where the finger was. He added a second finger and reached around, slowly squeezing and stroking John's cock as he worked, slowly stretching his tight passage.
"OK. That's great, Damo. Don't want me jumping the gun, do you?"
John turned around as the finger pulled out. Damien lay back and rested his head upon the arm, looked up and smiled when John straddled his stomach. Both tails dangled over the far end of the couch and waved gently in the air. They kissed once more, holding onto each other loosely. A moment's pause, before the exertions to come. The opportunity to make love was becoming a rare gift lately, making every touch infinitely more valuable.
"Today just keeps getting better," muttered John. He shuffled backwards until Damien's member nudged against his backside, halfway between his balls and his entrance. His partner held it steady as John pushed back still further. The cocktip rode up along the perineum until it pressed right up against his slippery, slick hole. Damien held his breath, and a look of supreme bliss settled on his face like a mask.
John bit his lip and leaned forward. He curled his fingers over the armrest of the sofa and began to work himself backwards onto Damien's hard cock. He closed his eyes and gasped with every inch that pushed past his lubricated entrance, into the tight passage beyond. He didn't open his eyes until he was sitting comfortably on his lover's balls. Damien let out his stored breath in one long, low moan.
Damien held onto his hips and rubbed upwards, stirring the fur along the sides of his body. Damien liked to be held firmly: the first time they had slept together he had complained that John was tickling him. Instead of gentle caresses he preferred a firm paw on his body, and John was happy to oblige him. Damien's paws rose from John's buttocks, over his hips and up along the sides of his body.
As they kissed, John began to rock back and forth. He picked up speed until he found a rhythm that they could both enjoy and then maintained it. Their paws were everywhere, groping and squeezing all the right places as they gave each other pleasure. As the mutual excitement built up and became a constant buzz instead of coming like waves on a beach. Damien began to thrust into him in return, meeting John as he descended, landing across his thighs with a gentle thump. As that pleasure built up and became harder and harder to resist, John gripped Damien's buttocks and squeezed tightly. His lover nodded, familiar with the signal. He began to ride John harder and faster, as though dancing to the rhythm of the soft slaps. The other rat grunted and gasps, showing his approval with his sounds of pleasure.
"Yeah...just like that. God, you just get better." he moaned, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.
John reached down and began to stroke his cock, pawing himself briskly. A bead of pre glistened at the end of his maleness and dripped onto Damien's stomach fur. He sighed softly and increased his speed, adding to his own excitement. He squeezed himself as tightly as he could around the other's cock. Neither male held back the moans and gasps of pleasure that each made. Each had the other's name on their lips
Damien approached the point of no return swiftly, the extra tightness of his lover quickly becoming too much to resist. He reached up and put a paw at the back of John's head, drawing him closer.
"N-not long, love. You're too good for me."
John shut him up with a kiss, pressing his lips tightly against him. He closed his eyes and breathed through his nose, lingering over the taste of his lips, tongues embracing as they embraced. A shudder ran through him He broke the kiss with an audible smack and licked his nose.
"Go ahead, Damo. I love you..."
His thrusting became harder, faster and shorter. John watched his face change, his expression one of bliss. His eyes closed and his mouth opened, drawing steady deep, quick breaths. The insides of his ears flushed pink, filled with the blood pumping hard and fast throughout his body. With rough, almost stabbing movements of his hips he finally reached his peak. Damien let out a long, deep groan of satisfaction as he filled his condom, pulling John into a bone crunching hug. The other rat stroked his cock as hard and as fast as he could in the suddenly limited space, until his own climax approached.
He pushed out of his lover's arms and sat bolt upright, looking down upon the body of the wonderful rat. His balls drew tight to his body, and it was his turn to moan with pleasure. He rolled his hips in a smooth circle, twisting around on the thick rathood still buried within him. Damien screwed up his eyes and bit his lip hard, trying to prolong his pleasure for a few seconds more.
"C'mon, sweetie." murmured Damien, still making slight thrusts into his passage. "Your turn."
John nodded quickly, his lips shaping words he no longer felt able to speak. His release came upon him suddenly. There was a pregnant pause, and then he sprayed seed all over Damien's chest and stomach in long jets. The semen clung to his fur and descended down the gentle slope his torso made. Neither male spoke. The pleasure each felt spoke more eloquently than either felt capable of. They breathed in the scents of arousal and satisfied lust, and each listened to the other's breathing steady and slow beyond it's normal rate. They looked into each other's eyes and saw love reflected back. Neither male was a natural romantic, but at times like this each believed that maybe, just maybe, they could be wrong.
"You're too good," said John, at last.
"I know" he replied with a wink.
They remained in that position for a while, kissing and snuggling. Finally, John climbed off his lover and removed the condom for him, then joined him on the couch. He stretched out and rested his head upon Damien's chest, his feet dangling over the edge of the couch, the tip of his tail now touching the floor. Damien felt better than he had done for months. Being with John was always good, but it was rarely this good.
The phone rang. John kissed Damien on the Adam's Apple and rolled off.
"I'll be right back."
Damien sat up and watched him walk to the phone. He picked up the condom, double-checked that it was tied closed and dropped it into the bin.
"Damo? It's MarTech on the phone for you."
Damien hurried over and snatched the phone away. John gave him a dirty look and a playful dig in the ribs before wandering into the kitchen.
"Is that Mr Wood? Hello, I'm Debbie. Sorry to call you so late..."
"It's alright. How can I help you?"
"First, I'd like to congratulate you on your new appointment. Before you can start here at MarTech we require you to do an induction course. It's nothing strenuous, but it'll take all morning."
John came back and mimed drinking.
Would you like some coffee? He mouthed, exaggerating the lip movements. Damien gave him the thumbs up.
"That's fine; I was warned about that in the interview. When and where do you want me?"
John was carrying cups of coffee when Damien signalled for him to grab something to write with. John nodded, freed his paws and pulled out a notepad from a nearby drawer, a biro pushed through the ring that held the sheets of paper together.
Thanks.
"Sorry, could you repeat that, please?" He asked, pinning the phone between his ear and his shoulder.
He took down the details in a neat, angular hand.
"Thank you very much, Mr Wood. See you tomorrow."
Damien hung up.
"Looks like I've lost tomorrow morning, love. I've got to go in and have a medical and do some paperwork."
"Really? Damn." Said John, handing him his cup. "Still, at least I'll have you for the afternoon. Good job we didn't go out on the piss, really."
"Yeah. Sorry about this."
"Hey, it's alright. You're finally getting the kind of job you're deserved. I can spare you for that long."
Damien took a sip, burning his lips a little on his mug.
"Thanks. I'm gonna go get a shower. You coming?"
"Oooh. But don't you have to get up early tomorrow?"
"I'll get all the sleep I need when I die."
"How could I say no?"
Paw in paw, they their cups on the coffee table and headed for the shower.