Waking Up With Strangers
It happens. You get drunk, you bring someone home with you, you fall into bed together, and you have no memory of any of that when you wake up the next morning. But what if the person you went home with wasn't, entirely, human?
It was Monday morning. I never liked Mondays. Lousy way to spend 1/7th of your life. I had just awoken up to find myself at home in my own bed. And after one of Stew's parties, this is always a good thing. Believe me, I've woken up in worst places then this. I remember, once at this bush bash a few years back...
But that sorry incident will have to wait for another time. As I laid there trying, and not succeeding to any grand degree, to make my sleep and hangover muffled brain tell me what the fuck I did the night before, I became aware that I was not alone in the bed. I realized that there was a nice, soft, warm body pressed up against my back. Now in my book, this is always a good thing. Anytime that you can come to with a beautiful girl lying next to you, is a very good thing. Especially if she can remember how you got there in the first place.
Since it didn't feel like she was holding onto me in any serious way, I decided to roll over and lay eyes on the face of whom ever I had spent the night with. I was hoping that things wouldn't be too traumatic. Again, some of Stew's parties...
Upon doing so, however, I received the biggest shock of my life. 'Course it took me a few moments to grasp that fact.
While not wholly human, her face did have human qualities to it. Like those anthropomorphic characters a friend of mine writes about. However hindsight being 20/20, and not having access to it at the moment, the most coherent thought my slumber induced brain could form was, "Uhhh... Okay, no."
As the shock of the whole incident began to dawn on me, my brain quickly kicked into action, in an attempt to deny what my body was telling it. After trying in vain for several seconds to clear the illusion before my eyes by repeatedly blinking and squeezing them shut, I moved to more drastic measures. Reaching up from under the blanket, I proceeded to give myself a series of sharp, stinging slaps on the face. Being in the lethargic state that I was in, I had not anticipated the effect this would have on my companion.
Much to my horror and surprise, she woke up. It is only now, after having fully seen her, that I am sure she is a female of her kind. At any rate my reaction to her waking was one of sheer instinct. As soon as I felt her move, I scooted out of the bed and slammed up against the nearest wall.
Perhaps "scooted" isn't the right word. More like "flew". In fact the wall was about the only thing keeping me from going any further, considering the highly volatile and excitable state I was in at the moment.
As she yawned, I was given a grand view of her extensive dental work, particularly the canines. She then gave off a full body stretch, allowing me the opportunity to see the large, retractable claws she had concealed in the ends of each of her slender fingers.
Now, of course this was doing nothing for my demeanor at this point. If anything I was ready to bolt and go running through the halls, screaming like a madman. Not that this wasn't a common occurrence in my building. New Orleans is not a city known for its refinement and civilized behavior.
That was when she turned and finally set eyes on me. Her expression was one of a satisfied lover who had awakened for another round. She hummed at me, a smile coming to her muzzle, a twitch to those long whiskers. Not the first girl with facial hair you've wound up with the next morning, part of my brain absently noted.
"What are you doing over there, lover? Why don't you come back to bed? You certainly were interested in it last night." She reached out from under the covers to beckon me to come to her. "Come here, lov-- er... oh..." My furry companion looked oddly at her hand. "Oh, my. This isn't right."
I let out a nervous, high-pitched laugh at the comment.
"You really shouldn't have seen this," she continued. "I guess I got a little too wasted last night. Serves me right for accepting those drinks you gave me."
That was one thing about Stew. He was a great mixologist. Bloody hell, he was a fucking MASTER! And he usually had some strange pseudo-chemical lab in the back of his truck for creating his concoctions for his fellow partiers. Probably why his parties turn out they way they usually do. He's actually on a first name basis with the majority of the cops on the local drunk details. He even has bar tabs going for several of them...
But my guest was talking again. She had sat up in bed, the sheets only covering her crotch. I had never known furry breasts could be so attractive. I was beginning to see how my friend could stand to read and write what he does...
"... cannot imagine how embarrassing this is for me. My kind has lived amongst yours for centuries now, and we're supposed to be better at this. But you HAD to offer me those drinks." She sighed as she rose to get dressed. I couldn't help notice her lush, full tail as she bent over to retrieve her fallen blouse. "And I HAD to be dumb enough to accept them." She glanced around my small apartment once, her tail swishing around behind her. "You know, I think you were right. My clothes DO look better on the floor next to your bed."
I could only respond to her playfully-predatory grin with another twittering, high-pitched laugh.
She paused from her scavenging to give me a queer look. "I had expected you to take this a little better, lover. It's not often that one of your kind sees one of my kind in our natural form. But do you appreciate the uniqueness of your position? No, of course not. You just stand there against the wall, dangling in the wind."
My furry one-night-stand pulled on her jeans, fitting her thick tail through the cleverly concealed loophole in the back. She fluffed up her thick tail while pulling her blouse over her head.
"I really hope you enjoyed last night, lover. I don't think that you'll be getting such another such chance any time soon." She tucked her blouse into her jeans, and picking up her purse and shoes -- as the latter no longer fit her feet -- she walked over to the door to my apartment. Bringing her furry paw up to her muzzle, she placed a kiss on it and blew it across the room to me. Then with a final wave of her tail, my peculiar consort vanished out the door and out of my life.
I still don't know how long I stood there, "dangling in the wind" as she put it. But I do know that I eventually overcame the shock of what I saw, or thought I saw. I dressed myself in loose fitting boxers and a tee, and sat down at the breakfast table in my meager kitchen to compose this narration.
Am I crazy? Perhaps. Did I really have a strange anthropomorphic creature as my companion for a night? I don't know. At any rate, I'm writing this down more for me then for anyone else. Though I expect John and Stew to get laughs out of this when I show them. Oh, I fully intend to do that, despite my misgivings. At the very least, it should amuse John. I know how he loves furs. And perhaps it might even convince the "mad-mixoligist" to lay off it at the next party.
And it might even serve as a reminder to me of the dangers of waking up with strangers!
Th'End