Chapter One- Dream's Descent
#1 of Fruit of the Forbidden
October 13th, 2008-
There are those who might be wondering why I'm beginning to keep this log... One might say for posterity. Personally, I wish it to be used as proof of my sanity. You might remember my childish infatuation with a friend of my Master's. Oh, how I used to dream... When out with our circle of friends, I'd be hard pressed to steer my mind away from its wanderings amongst my fantasy- I would wonder how soft his hair was, what his lips would feel like against my neck, how long it had been since he had felt the physical comfort of another... Every time my Master and I would rest for the night at Mssr. Buqet's flat, He was always there. He'd awaken in his undergarments, and I loved to drink in the sight. He has such beautiful legs... For a year now, my innocent day-dreaming remained silent, except to the few people closest to me. My heart raced at the thought of seeing him, even though I was suffering from a simple girlish crush. I knew in my heart he would never be mine. So, naturally, I flirted in good faith, worshiping him from afar, cherishing the few times we were alone together. Last week, I was evicted from my boarding house so I stormed off to Mssr. Buqet's flat, knowing he'd allow me to rest there until an alternate arrangement could be made. I struck a conversation up with Erik. I told him about how I left, and that I was dreading being forced to endure Mssr. Buqet's unceasing banter. Erik, being a kind friend that he is, offered to come out and keep me company. I was elated at the chance of spending time alone with him, as he treats me like an equal and not property. Mssr. Buqet retired to his chambers shortly after Erik arrived, much to my pleasure. We passed the night by watching movies, viewing the many interesting things the Internet has to offer, swapping art critiques, and eventually he felt secure enough to read to me from his latest story. Shortly after he began, I looked out the window to see the most beautiful pink sunrise.
"Oh, wow.."
"What is it, Araea?"
"Look... The sunrise... it's amazing..."
"You're right...." He leaned over my legs to get a better glimpse of the glorious sight, and I drank in his scent. It was intoxicating. He went back to reading, and I picked up Arthas (my doll) and shuffled my exhausted body over to Buqet's other couch. After crawling under the covers, I faced him as he read. My mind expanded before me, showing me a scene of horror that I likened to that of a future masterpiece. Slowly I drifted off into a peaceful sleep. The last thing I remembered before the blackness descended was a small banter between the two of us.
"Is it really so bad it put you to sleep?"
"No, I'm simply exhausted. I loved it. you're an amazing writer." Then, simply blackness.
When I awoke, he was wrapped in a black comforter like a chrysalis, sleeping soundly. I smiled pleasantly to myself, as he looked unspeakably adorable. I cleaned up the mess I had made while sleeping and excused myself to the washroom to bathe. The warm water soaked my fur and I basked in the joy one only feels when fresh and clean. When I was finished, I sat down with my book and began to read. Shortly after, Buqet returned from work and turned on his definition of "entertainment". We were subjected to hours of television, but Erik and I had an enjoyable time trading sarcastic comments until Buqet FINALLY retired for the night. We migrated to his large, lavish couch to watch various things on his poor excuse for a computer. My heart skipped a beat, as he sat with his arm against mine. Pathetic, I admit, but I am a pure innocent to the very end. Perhaps an hour had passed us by, when he inquired as to whether or not he was encroaching on my personal space. Restraining a smile, I told him he wasn't bothering me at all.
"Well, what if I do... this?" Before I could blink, he had wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close. My breath caught in my throat, I felt tears spring to my eyes... He was so warm, his scent was invigorating, his heart beat reassuring. I hadn't been this close to a living being in so long without feeling like a tawdry sex toy. My muscles relaxed, and I leaned into him, drowning in confusion and comfort. The hours passed like seconds, and I began to notice him acting quite peculiar. He began to speak to me via whispering against my ear... He'd lift my chin ever so gently with his fingertips, he followed me to the kitchen when my stomach began to rumble... After I finished making myself some delicious egg noodles, we returned to the couch. He sat with his legs drawn around him, tail curled behind him, holding me, brushing my neck with his slight beard and whispering to me. I was melting. The flame I had carried for him for so long suddenly burst into an inferno of longing. This was not simply passion, no... this was more intense than any passion I had experienced in my short lifetime.
He offered to stop, it's true. I begged him to continue. He was much older than me, but oh so flawless, exactly what I had searched for, talented and beautiful and so cunning... before long he was kissing me. His lips were large and lush; almost as if being caressed with Satin. My paws found purchase doing what I had always longed to do: winding themselves through his hair. It was as silk, fine and downy, flowing through my digits. I could taste the tobacco on him, and it thrilled me to the core. So many times this had played through my mind, and here I was, not in my beloved castle at all, but on Buqet's couch. There was no flicker of candlelight in the background, only the soft glow of the monitor. He was willing to stop, but I pleaded with him to continue. I was hurt, I was lonely, I had desired him for so long... He seemed afraid I'd regret it, and yet I was terrified to my very core that HE would. His fingertips brushed my fur as he lifted my shirt, and I shivered with anticipation. I let my paws wander upon his body, curious as to how his coat felt... marvelous. I removed his shirt carefully, drowning in his passionate kisses, wishing I could convey my feelings to him... How could I possibly regret this tryst with a Jackal I'd dreamed about for a year?
I slithered out of my pajama pants, embarrassed at my thick figure. Badgers aren't known for being waifs, for good reason. My heart raced as he finished undressing, looking down at me, as glorious as I had imagined. He favored the loose clothing of all the males in our group, concealing his pleasant figure. He was my Adonis, and I was his eager slave. He kissed my neck, my collar bone, tickling me with his muzzle while his paws busied themselves with exploring my most secret of areas. His gentle tongue found my breasts, and I yielded to him entirely. This was not the rough, painful, horribly unpleasant sensation I was used to... it was cautious, kind, respectful, and possibly nervous. I arched my back and wrapped my legs around his soft body as he entered me. Merely imagining his throbbing cock inside me drove me wild. He began to thrust, strong and yet tender... it was the single most pleasant experience of my life. He panted into my ear as I rocked my hips, silently praying he was in as much ecstasy as I was. I explored every inch of him, relishing the feel of his perfect buttocks, the feel of his hips, the scent of his exertions, kissing every inch of him my lips could find. We continued in this way for quite awhile, the pleasure mounting, heart racing, my emotions running rampant... God, how I craved more, how I longed to run my supple tongue over every inch of his length... In my mind I swore to taste him at the first chance. But before I knew it, I exploded, biting my lip to keep silent. He slipped out of me as he came, wrapping me in his strong arms and kissing me all over. The scent of our bodies mingling permeated the air, soothing my pulse, nearly setting me to sleep. We lay there, entwined together, panting, relishing the comfort of a kindred spirit, for quite some time. I was loathe to part from his sweet embrace. Our hair was plastered to our faces, and after finally untangling ourselves, we kissed. I looked into his eyes, wondering with every fiber of my being what he was thinking. We got dressed, and after a parting embrace I went to my respective couch and collapsed. It seemed that away from his arms, my nagging mind was intent on causing me misery. This was Erik. He hated women, and yet... he had instigated this... What in my miserable existence had I done right to deserve his attentions, attentions that I craved for oh so long? I drifted off into an uncomfortable sleep, feeling his lips lingering upon me even then...