Windy Days
#3 of Days
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Windy Days
Jonathan had moved into his residence just days ago. His college dorm room was small, but he had expected it to be much worse. As a result he now had all this room, and nothing to put in it.
Every day he went for a walk around the campus. From one side to another was a 70 minute round trip. He never minded long walks, and today he was especially enjoying.
Today was as windy as it had ever been here. The wind whipped through tiny alleyways, effectively turning them into high-powered wind tunnels. The campus today was almost devoid of life. This was the way he liked it.
He passed under an arch about halfway through his walk, and the wind decided to give a great gust just as he passed into the centre. The wind blew over him and he could feel the exhilaration and rush of wind across his tall fox ears. His hair as well was whipped around, messing the short tuft that adorned his head. His tail fanned out and caught as much wind as it was able. He held out his hands and simply enjoyed it. It was over all too soon, and he felt the peak of excitement come down, starting in his ears, as the rush of blood seemed to slow.
And so the walk went. Every time a gust came to him he would stop and the same feeling of excitement would come over him. Once he looked into the sky and saw a few birds flying overhead. Oh how he wished he could do that! Just to spread one's wings and take off! The freedom of it caught his attention every time.
When he finally came to the hill leading up to his apartment building he started the steps carefully. He tried not to look upwards this time because with the wind coming down the hill at him, he could easily lose his balance. A change though, from his regular walk, was a lone woman climbing the steps as well. She wore a skirt to just below her mid thighs, a white t-shirt and a blue blazer to match the skirt.
From his vantage point she was also wearing a very enticing pair of white panties with an orange stripe midway round the bottom. He would normally be as nervous as a virgin in a room of super models, but then the wind blew past and his spirits rose up again.
Without thinking his mouth opened and the words: "White and orange," came out.
His eyes widened with surprise and when the girl turned he blushed through his thick, red fur. She was a very attractive cat. Perhaps a tabby. Her breasts swayed for a brief second as she turned and her eyes seemed to fill with tears. He recognized her then, she lived two floors down from him. Suddenly he felt ashamed of himself for having opened his big mouth at all.
She choked and then ran the rest of the way up the stairs. In her hurry a small brown pouch fell from her fingers. She must not have noticed because she never once glanced back.
Well if that wasn't a kick in the ribs, a stabbing in the eyes and an all around shot to the ego...
The wind died down just as she left view and suddenly he felt like the biggest jerk in the world. Walking the rest of the way home seemed a chore now that he had been so cold, and the wind blew past, bringing a chilled air from the north. He shuddered.
As he came to the top, he saw the brown pouch lying on the steps and picked it up. Inside was all her ID, her pictures, her money, everything. As he rummaged through it to find her exact room number to return the pouch a set of keys fell and a small picture fluttered to the ground and landed face down. He picked up the keys first, knowing right away that she must be at her room then without a way to get inside. Then he grasped the picture and turned it. The day's surprises weren't over for Jonathan because in the picture, was himself. Why would she have his photo? It showed him at the cafeteria, simply eating with a few friends. She must have been at the door and rushed off before he noticed that his picture had been taken. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to feel happy, confused or angry at this revelation, but instead of dwelling on it he went to the doors of the building and walked in.
With the keys he had of hers in his hand he wagered that she could make it as far as her room, but no farther. Floor 9 was his destination, if for nothing else than to help her inside. He slipped the picture into the pouch right where it had fallen from so that she wouldn't suspect him of seeing it.
The doors opened with a ding and a course sliding of metal upon rubber, then he walked out into the hallway. His heart began to beat harder than he would have liked, but he pressed onward regardless and when finally he turned the corner he nearly leapt out of his skin. She was a few doors down, on her knees, weeping quietly. He approached silently, then knelt by her side and handed her the purse.
"I apologize..." he said quietly.
She looked up for a moment and snatched the purse away from him. He recoiled in shock for a moment and then leaned over to help her up. She shook him off and stayed on the floor.
He sighed and got up. Walking away was one of the hardest and nerve-wracking things he ever had to do, but he walked around the corner and didn't come back.
"Come back..." she whispered, almost inaudibly. Sound didn't escape her lips again.
He came to his room and entered with his own keys and shut and locked the door swiftly afterwards. He slipped out of his jacket, shirt and shoes, then laid down on his bed and drifted off to sleep after watching shapes take form on the ceiling tiles for a good hour.
Victoria woke from a restless sleep the next day. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying herself to sleep. She would have wanted last night to go so much differently, but the comment he had said on the steps had just hit hard. How could someone she had wanted for so long turn out to be so cold? Why did he have to be there at all? She didn't see him on her walk. But... he did return her purse. She knew he was a good person. She took out a small photo from her purse and kissed it, then slipped it back inside the pouch.
She dressed properly, fixed her hair and finished her other morning chores, then walked from her room to start her day. As she shut the door though, she saw a small note on white, lined paper, taped to the wall beside her.
It had her name scrawled on it in black ink and she took it down and before locking the door opened it and read.
To the Tabby of room 912,
Please accept my apologies for last night. It was rude and stupid of me to do something like that. If you forgive me, please come to the restaurant between the bookshop and the phone store at noon.
_ _
_ Truly,_
_ Jon._
_ _
She crumpled the letter in her hands with surprise and then read it over twice more. What was he doing? A date? An apology? Hadn't he done that enough? What was going on? This was happening too fast! Regardless, she was filled with a native energy that seemed to be draw from the floor by her toes and circulated through her body like lightning.
She went to her first class, which ended at 11 in the morning and for the next hour, paced her room, deciding what to wear, how to do her hair, what make-up to wear, so much to do!
Noon seemed to take forever to come and as the second hand flicked by the 12, she was at the restaurant. It was a really fancy place, the only one like it for miles and was a popular place for first dates, apologies, and proposals. She stood outside a moment and looked in through the window. He was there. In a booth, set for two, with a candle flickering in the atmospheric lighting. She drew a deep breath and walked in. He saw her and stood, waving her over. Her breath caught. Was everything she did going to hit the fan? She didn't want to face him after her embarrassing scene last night, but... his eyes caught hers, and drew her closer and closer. She couldn't stop.
She was wearing a slimming green dress of velvet, with matching arm sleeves that hooked around her middle fingers with a gold ring. She had the perfect amount of make-up on as well. Red lipstick, enough to make her lips look full and luscious, and eye shadow, matching her dress as well, giving her an aura of pure beauty. Her high-heeled slippers fit her wonderfully and she thanked God that she had worn them, for the support they gave her was all that held her legs up.
"You made it," he said.
"Yes," she replied.
"Then you forgive me?"
She paused a moment, and looked his handsome frame over, "Yes," she said at last. He seemed to take a sigh of relief and pulled her chair out to help her down, then took his seat.
An awkward pause ensued, where neither knew what to say. On his side, his mind raced with questions of his photo being in her purse, and on hers, she wanted to say so many things that never seemed to manifest in her mouth.
As if in desperation, he spoke first.
"Have you ever eaten here before?"
She shook her head, no.
"May I make a suggestion?"
She nodded.
Her lack of speech seemed to be related to nervousness, he told himself, as he noticed that she was fidgety, and kept gripping her hands into tight fists and ringing her fingers.
"Try the salmon. It's done wonderfully."
When she did speak, it was quiet and so peaceful that while he strained to hear her, what he did catch made his heart rise and fall with the tone she used.
"I can't. I'm allergic to the sauces. And... I'm mostly vegetarian? Sorry."
He found himself momentarily distracted by the way her eyes opened and closed, revealing the colour of her make-up for a brief second. Then their eyes met, and he suddenly forgot everything she had said.
Something like: allergic to vegetables and sauces make her horny?
He shook himself from the trance and found her staring as well. Then his head felt heavy, and as if drawn to her eyes, he began to lean forward, as did she. Then their lips met, and each felt something so exquisite that neither would ever be able to describe it accurately afterwards. They were flush together for a moment and in passion their tongues danced within each other's mouths. Had the table not been in their way, an embrace so tight and fevered would have ensued also. The delicious taste of each other was suddenly broken as the waiter came to their table and cleared his throat. They jumped away from each other quickly and blushed, then looked at the tall man dumbly.
"Can I take your orders?" he asked, neutral.
They each ordered their favourite thing on the menu and when the waiter left he reached for her hand and stood up. He took her to the dance floor, where the light sound of classical music was playing. They slipped into each other's arms and then he began to lead her around the floor. They could each perform perfectly. If nothing else, she was confident on the dance floor. He movements were liquid and ever changing, never the same twice and she melted into his steps without blinking. His as well, as he dipped and wheeled and turned, were effortless. More than a competition, this was the combination of two who seemed to know each other more than physically, which they certainly did not, and were bound by minds, by more even, by love. As they moved, both only breathed in intervals, as they continually stole each other's breath away.
When the music ended, they were panting heavily. The audience that had gathered either at tables or around the floor clapped soundly. They were ignored and the couple then went back to their seats, where they sat beside each other instead of across. Their hands clasped together and they kissed again, the rush of warm breath filling them and then escaping through the gaps in their lips.
Their lunches came soon, and they parted their kiss only long enough to eat marginal portions each. They were both too hungry for each other to bother with food.
The music became more upbeat, more modern, and they went for the floor again, this time with different moves in mind.
When they hit the floor each became liquid once again. They broke into new moves that neither of them had ever tried before, nor knew they would ever do in front of anyone else. Then they came together, her back to his chest, and then they turned and slipped into each other's arms and out, then came back. He rear pressed against his groin, then backed away and in a subtle and yet quick motion she thrust down on him. His hand brushed lightly and quickly up and down her sleek body. His hands came up once and grasped her breasts, giving them a quick squeeze, and then disappearing, only to repeat the motion over and over again.
To onlookers it must have looked like a perfectly normal modern dance routine, but to the couple on stage it was more like sex with clothes on. Each body became one with the other and slipped effortlessly onto, into and off of one another.
She turned once and faced him. Her arms came round his neck and she danced with swaying motions. Her crotch pressed deliciously close to his, and she could feel something rigid poking at her from under his pants. Her heart skipped a beat, and she thought she could feel his skip as well.
The music stopped too soon for the couple and without staying to listen to applause they paid the bill and took their leave.
It was never actually decided, but they made their way to his room and opened the door, which was a chore between their mad frenzy of kissing.
They were then undressed in no time, and on the bed without so much as a word to each other. Their hands stayed together, fingers entwined.
Before anything happened however he slipped down her body, leaving wet kisses down her stomach and then hovered over her pussy only momentarily before his lust took over. He kissed the lips and then lapped at them, slipping his tongue into her depths without any warning. The initial reaction was a miniature orgasm, as every nerve in her body shook with pleasure. His tongue was long, as was normal for the fox species, and he could reach it deeper than others. It twisted and turned within her. He slipped it deeper with short thrusts of his muzzle and eventually his nose slipped between her folds.
The swift motions of his muzzle and the lapping of his tongue was so much for her that within minutes of his entry she came with explosive force all over his face. She gripped the sheets tightly and seemed to shake all over. She never even bothered covering her mouth as she screamed in total ecstasy.
He smiled as her juices filled his mouth. He swallowed all he could and let the rest splash across his muzzle and fall to his sheets. Easily washed. She was breathing hard, and her hands, instead of kneading the sheets stroked his soft hair and combed it with her fingers. Her legs were up on his back. He crawled through the tight tunnel that her legs made and came to her breasts, where he kissed each nipple and moved on upwards again.
When they were staring into the other's eyes they enveloped in another passionate kiss. She licked all over his muzzle, taking in her juices, swallowing every drop she could. He tasted good, but she added sweetness to his skin and fur that she found to be even more arousing.
When they had cleaned themselves off she placed her hands under his and hoisted him up. She wasn't very strong, but he took the hint and crawled up until his cock was directly in front of her face, and he had trapped her under his legs.
She took a deep, long breath and filled herself with his scent. The thick musk of his cock took over and she grasped it in her hands. It quivered at the touch and then she brought it to her mouth, taking in the head and then pulling his hips closer so that as much of him was inside her sopping mouth as was possible from this position. Involuntarily he began to buck at her, and she never resisted. He thrust into her mouth, bumping the head of his cock at the back of her throat. She gagged, but forced the reflex back. After a short while however she was simply allowing him to thrust himself into her mouth without resistance.
Every so often she stroked her tongue around the length of cock that stayed in her mouth. Pre-cum dribbled onto her tongue and she eagerly swallowed it. His salty taste filled her senses and drove her mad. God how she had wanted this! For so long now she had dreamt of him! Of tasting him! Of feeling him inside her! It was wonderful!
When his climax came he gripped the head of the bed like iron and stopped thrusting. She took this hint to open as much of her throat as was possible. Then it came, his climax splashed against her throat and fell to her stomach. Everything! She swallowed all of it. And there were copious amounts of it! She loved every moment and was disappointed when it ceased. She could still taste it as the sticky liquid took hold all over her mouth. She ran her tongue over the inside of her mouth just to get all she could out of it.
Without words they stared at each other again and nodded in unison. They wanted to be closer. Even closer than they had been. They wanted to be as physically close to each other as they could. She spread her legs wide open, and right there, her sopping wet pussy lay unguarded. He positioned himself for missionary and came down to him.
"Don't go slow. Just do it!" she said to him quickly, agonizing for him to finish.
He nodded in bliss and then came down upon her. He slid in easily with the lubrication that both of them had added to each other. He slid into her without resistance. There was no blood, so he knew at least she wasn't a virgin. (Probably broke it herself with a toy or something). She squealed with delight and then wrapped her legs around him. He pulled out and then she pulled him back in.
It was fast right from the get go. They wanted each other more than words could ever say. It was perfect.
The warmth, the wetness and the simple knowledge that they were both in need of each other was all too much for them. It was a passionate, and yet quick trip to climax. They thrust straight for a while and then when they had had enough of that, he began to gyrate his hips to grind against her walls for the extra pleasure. He must have struck her g-spot once or twice, because she squeaked and then clamped down on the sheets again.
Her eyes were closed and her breasts bounced up and down with the force of his thrusts. She brought one hand up to her breasts and started to grope and rub over them with the same motions that he had done in the café.
It didn't last long, and without warning she climaxed with just as great force as she had the first time. He continued thrusting however, bringing himself to even greater peaks. But her legs dropped from his back and she stared at him again. She opened her mouth and lolled out her tongue. It was obvious what she wanted, and he was all too happy to give it to her. He pulled out just as he was about to climax and then slunk up to her mouth, pressing his cock back into her mouth. He came again, not so hard, but without a doubt just as generously.
The sticky fluid stuck to her mouth and tongue. She savoured the taste for as long as she could without swallowing it. After letting it set on her tongue a moment she swallowed it in one gulp and could feel it slide easily down her gullet and to her stomach. She loved it.
He came down beside her.
They kissed once more and fell asleep. A wonderful, deep, and contented sleep.