Just a Job
This is my first attempt of writing a yiffy story and also my first short story written in English, so I'm open for constructive criticism. I admit, it's rather short, but somehow that fits to the main character's character. Oh, by the way, legal disclaimer: Blah blah, homosexual content, blah, don't read if you are under 16/18/21 years old, etc. etc.
- * * The tiger got off the bus and headed down the street, past the big warehouses and storage tanks. The air smelled salty, caused by the nearby seaport, mixed with the odour of petrol, sulphur and other unidentifiable chemicals. The tiger, disgusted by the foul stench, started breathing through his mouth. "This job's gonna lead to my early grave if they keep sending me here", he thought disgruntled. He passed a yard where a group of bears was loading a shipment of heavy crates into a truck. Not the kind of work the tiger wanted to do, though he physically would be able to. One of his hobbies was swimming, a fact many people were surprised by, given the common cliché that felines and water don't match. However, he proved them wrong and his swimmer's build spoke for itself. He reached his destination: A grey and boring office building of a shipping agency squeezed between two grey and boring warehouses. A total mood killer for every employee working there. The tiger stepped through the front door, passed the magazine-reading and always bored receptionist (who looked like she died three weeks ago and failed to notice it) and took the elevator to the top floor. There he manoeuvred straight towards an elegant door with a golden label on it reading: "D. Damm, Executive Director". The desk next to the door was abandoned, a clear sign that the secretary had already left. The tiger licked his paw and run his fingers through his hair before he knocked and entered the office. Behind a large, impressive desk (oak) sat a beaver, wearing a dress shirt and tie, absent-minded staring on some paperwork in front of him. The creaking sound of the door made him look up. A broad smile started to spread on his face when he saw the tiger entering his office. "Ah, Sly! Nice to see you again", he said, taking off his glasses. "The whole day I've been looking forward to our little meeting. Sometimes my work really takes it outta me, but I made sure to save up some strength for you." "Hello, Big Daddy!", the tiger called Sly answered and took off his jacket, casually throwing it aside. He didn't like those big-headed nicknames, but it wasn't his place to question his clients. The beaver pushed his office chair to one side of his desk, got rid of the tie and unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his slightly obese, brown-furred belly. His pants were gone, he'd already dropped them a few minutes before Sly arrived. Big Daddy watched the tiger undressing himself while stroking his already hard cock. His eyes were particularly resting on the tiger's strong abs clearly outlined under a white patch of fur that covered his stomach and chest. Sly climbed the beaver's chair, in a way "kneeling" on it, his own half-erect dick pressed against Mr. Damm's round belly. "So which way does Big Daddy want it today?", he asked in a playful innocent voice. "Mmmh, I'll go for the classic", the beaver replied and grabbed his callboy's buttocks, thrusting his hip upwards. Sly felt the short but thick beaver cock poking his rear teasingly, savouring the erotic sensation of fur brushing against that sensitive skin, before it penetrated his tail hole with a quick motion. The tiger flexed his spine, taken by surprise of this sudden sting, but got acclimated very fast and adjusted the circling movement of his pelvis to the forceful thrusts of Big Daddy. The beaver moaned in pleasure and buried his face in the tiger's chest fur. Sly himself remained silent. His sign of delight was the flow of precum dripping from his dick and wetting Mr. D's stomach fur. The blissful feeling of the beaver's cock messaging his prostrate made him forget the less joyful aspects of his job. He loved that part. Big Daddy quickened the pace for the final lap. Huffing and grunting, clawing the tiger's back fur, he reached his climax and shot his day's load deep into Sly's bowels. Then he leaned back in his chair, panting. "This was... excellent", he said, recovering his breathe. "But now I need a drink." The beaver turned the chair and pushed the tiger onto his desk. Sly knew what was about to happen. Usually it would have been against his rules, but since Mr. D was one of his premium clients, he allowed it. Big Daddy pulled out of his call-boy and lowered his face to the level of Sly's cock, still wet with pre. His tongue came into action, slowly exploring every inch of the throbbing member, relishing its salty taste and finally mounting it with his mouth, pushing up and down. He reached his joyful peak with the dick slapping against his palate and plunging into the dark depths of his throat. This time Sly couldn't restrain himself from moaning. He grabbed Big Daddy's head and supported his up and down movements in a feeling of utter delight. It didn't take a long time until he came and shot his semen down the beaver's throat. Quid pro quo. "Mmmh." Mr. D licked his lips. "I'd been craving for some delicious tiger juice the whole day and the waiting was definitely worth it." He put on his shirt again and opened one of his desk drawers, while Sly was picking up his clothes from the floor. The beaver pulled out a plain brown envelope, stuffed with something. "I must say, I envy you sometimes, Sly", he said and handed the envelope to the tiger. "How come?", the call-boy asked and buttoned up his jacket. "Well, you get an awful lot of good money for good sex", the beaver said with a wide smirk. Sly took the envelope containing his 300 bucks, stuffed it in his pocket and shrugged. "It's just a job." "Anyway, today's service was more than satisfying. I'll book you again next week." "I can hardly wait." Sly nodded and went out of the door, leaving Big Daddy wondering if his last comment was meant seriously or ironic. Sly entered the bus that drove him out of the industrial harbour area and back to his home. On the way, his cell phone ringed. He looked at the number on the display. His agency found another client for him. The tiger sighed and answered the call. "It's just a job", he thought.