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Chapter 3: Thomas Is Alone

Thomas:

The happy reunion of my brother and his mate was, to me, a source of joy and satisfaction I'd not seen in many years. That being the case, it was also a source of deep longing for a love that strong. Unlike my younger brother, I had never had even one person that I could even say I'd ever had the slightest attraction to, male, female, or otherwise.

Like my brother, Blaine, I'm a fox. Unlike him, I am not exactly small. For most of my life, I've been involved in body building, or muscle growth using legal means. I'm not necessarily opposed to performance enhancing drugs, I just never saw the need, when to me it seemed best to get strong by natural means, like resistance training, use of my own body's weight, as well as hard physical labor. In the process, I went from being a one-hundred thirty pound waif, to a well-formed muscular two-twenty, at six feet.

My time working for law enforcement in both the prisons and the policing agencies had hardened my heart, and mind, it seemed, to the wiles of any of the attractive people in the world. I was, much to my dismay, destined to be a bachelor, I thought. And, life seemed to bear that out.

Happy as I was for my brother and brother-in-law-to-be, I could not seem to bring myself to a realization of love, despite my obvious desire for it. I have, for most of my life, accepted the fact that there were many beautiful people in the world, but believed that I was to be alone. This made for a lonely existence, one I filled with attempting to help my family in the best way possible, with time and money.

There was one individual, from my childhood, that I could say I loved, but in my adult days, I chalked that love up to a childhood friendly affection. That person was someone who went to the same classes as I did, and graduated the same year, but was whisked away to an out-of-state University, thanks to the over-bearing grandparents who had raised him during his mid-to-late teens. His name was Trace Stevens, and he was the absolute picture of a swimmer. He was a strange one, though, because he was a shifter. He had two forms, one being more dark-skinned human or elf-like in appearance, with pointed elven ears, with the other form being a rather fantastic looking African Savannah Cat. He stood about six feet, two inches, and weighed in at two hundred pounds. Also, in that school, it was considered bad taste for two males to have a loving relationship, so being the people-pleaser I was at the time, I intentionally blocked any of such feelings from even entering my consciousness.

So, this conscious subjugation of my own desires became normal, and subconscious to me, and I did so without thinking, not caring what it did to me mentally and spiritually. I refused to care, so long as I was helping my family, which I came to consider most important. The instant any thought came to my head, I seemed to push it away.

This continued into my thirty-fourth year, when the day of my brother's wedding to his mate came. The day was a beautiful Saturday, and practically every fur in our hometown was there. I was best man for my brother, and stood near the minister to await the end of the ceremony. I cannot tell you how happy I was for my brother and his mate.

As the minister opened the ceremony, I looked out over the crowd, and saw a face I never had thought to see again. It was Trace, and he looked incredible. His distinctly African features were unmistakeable, and for the first time in my adult life, I felt my stomach tighten and flinch, and my heart began to flutter. To my distinct embarrassment, my brother leaned over and hissed at me very quietly, "You're musking up the room, brother. I smell you." With that, he'd made the skin of my cheeks under my fur take on a blush. I was completely caught. I saw the cheeky grin on my brother's face, and I hung my head.

During the reception, I shook paws with guests, and got caught up in amusing conversation, when without warning, a scent I had not smelt in years wafted back to my nose. Hair on end, my muzzle shot up, as did my gaze, which landed on the vision of perfection that was Trace Stevens. He leaned in and hugged me, and said softly, "It's been a long time, old friend."

I swallowed hard, and said, "Y-yes, it has, Trace. How've you been?" I was certain he could smell me. My brother certainly could.

"I have been marginally well, Tommy. I missed you terribly." There it was. The thing that I'd sought for so long to stamp down had reared its very attractive head. I felt my long-unused member began to fill with blood. I thanked the maker of my tuxedo that the front of it covered my crotch area, preventing me from giving the guests an unwelcome show.

I nodded, and pulled an ever-present business card from my inner lapel, and handed it to him. "Call me tonight," I whispered, at once hoping both that he would call, and also that he'd toss the card and forget about me. I was, in that moment, in a rage of conflicting emotions and desires. The emotions and desired that wanted Trace in my arms were rapidly winning.

"I will. I promise." That was the thing that I feared most. He'd always kept his promises, as had I, and this fact was not at all lost on me. He would call.

That evening, I sat in my house, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, and nothing else. I had a deep dread of hearing his voice, afraid it would make me go crazy. I was almost ready to unplug the house phone and pull the battery from my cell phone, when the latter burbled, and an unknown number appeared. Tentatively, I answered, "This is Thomas."

"I told you I would call, Tommy." He'd kept his promise. "I wanted to talk earlier, but I could tell you were uncomfortable with that, mate." That word... Something in me twisted, and I started to tear up.

I again swallowed, and said, "Can you make it to that address, Trace?" I asked, meaning the one on the card I'd given him. I now intended to spill all of my feelings on him.

"Yes, I can. I am staying three blocks north of you. I will be there in a bit." With that, the line went dead, and I trembled for a moment, frightened more than any of the prisoners I'd dealt with had ever made me. I soon heard the doorbell ring, and I jumped up, and forced myself to stride to the door, and open it.

Trace entered silently, then shut the door behind himself. He looked into my eyes, and said softly, "Forgive me, Tommy, for what I must do." He strongly grabbed my shoulders, pinned me against the brick wall, and pressed against me, then kissed me, with full on tongue action.

The feelings washed over me, like a strangely pleasurable combination of fire and the coldest water, sending frissons of feeling over every inch of my body. Then, to my dismay, all the pleasure crashed in on me, and I stiffened in the throws of orgasm, filling my shorts with the pungent juice of my orgasm. His kiss had made me cum, and rather hard.

I was deeply chagrined.

~=~=~

Trace:

I had not returned to town to find a mate, but the second I spied Tommy on the rostrum being best man to his little brother, I knew I had found the one I would be with for the rest of my life. I knew, then, that I was not returning to my life as I had planned, but I would be making Tommy my life.

When I approached him and hugged him, I caught the whiff of his musky arousal, and it was all I could do not to whisk him out of the room to a hotel, and make love to him then and there. Instead, he handed me a card, asking me to call him, which, true to my promise, I did that evening.

The address on the card, which was apparently his home address, was three blocks south of the house I was renting. So, when I called, and he asked me to come to him, I was able to quickly get there. I arrived, and at the doorbell's ring, he opened.

The look on his face was adorable. There was fear, desire, love, and embarrassment all there in his gaze. I silently entered, closed the door, and looked into his eyes, and said, resolutely, "Forgive me, Tommy, for what I must do." I pressed him against the wall, pushed my entire body against him, and proceeded to kiss him as deeply as I could.

Long, keening moans emanated from his body as his paws scrabbled over my chest and shoulders. I moaned happily, and returned the touches, deepening the kiss. The taste of him was addicting, as was the sound of his moans and pants. I was deeply surprised, however, when I felt him suddenly stiffen, and heard his voice cry out my name loudly. I had just kissed him into orgasm, and not once had either of us touched his cock. This was so arousing to me, while he was still cumming, I, too exploded in my black jeans.

~=~=~

Thomas:

I was deeply chagrined, because of my lack of control. I looked down at the floor, embarrassed, and almost lost control of my emotions. I felt a soft paw caress my cheek, and I lifted wet eyes to the man I loved. His voice was, to me, the most amazing thing to hit my ears that I'd ever heard. Deep, soft, and vibrant, and it vibrated me to the core.

He said, "You, dear one, are my mate. I know you know it, and I intend to make sure that I never am separated from you. I love you, and want you to understand something. I never will laugh at you for being too excited. I will always be proud that I can do that to you."

His words made me happily smile, despite myself. I took a deep breath, and replied, "My life's not been the best, love. I've done things I am not proud of, but everything I have done has been for a good reason. And now, I want to tell you this, if I am your mate, don't leave me here, alone."

He looked deeply into my eyes, and said, "I have no intention of leaving, not when I have found my mate, and he's standing here in my arms." He leaned in and kissed me, then continued, "Besides, you are not the only one that has a bit of a lack of control tonight, babe." He grabbed my paw, and put it directly against his crotch, where I felt a wetness. I knew, in that moment, that I was the cause of his own arousal, and frankly, that turned me on again.

I looked fiercely into his eyes, then grabbed his belt, and dragged him directly to my bedroom, where I tossed him onto the bed. I began to remove his clothes from his body, licking and nibbling every square inch of furred flesh I could find. After completing that rather arousing task, I hastily took his hardness into my maw, and began to suckle on it. I pushed my head down onto him, and started a pistoning movement, sucking firmly, making him moan and flinch with the pleasure. At the same time, I pulled my own clothes off rapidly, then licked his balls.

I stood, and went into my bathroom, returning with a large tube of anal lube, something I'd been using on myself for several years, having taken to enjoying the act of receiving an enema nightly. I returned to licking and sucking him, and, while bent to take him into my maw, I began to reach behind myself and lube up, finger-fucking my hole with the lubed up digits of my paw. I moaned, enjoying the penetration quite a bit.

I stood, straddled his prone form, then, holding his member vertical, I slowly sat on the engorged phallus, and felt it impale my wanton anus. I sank to the hilt, only stopping when I felt his hips against my rump. I leaned down, and kissed him deeply, whispering in his ear, "I'm yours, mate. I love you. Now, for fuck's sake, fucking FUCK me!"

~=~=~

Trace:

My mate stunned me by his sudden fierceness. In less time than I could even process what was happening, he'd had me on my back, naked, and harder than I'd ever been, with his gloriously warm maw. His almost violent sucking had me cumming, then he rose, somehow naked, and disappeared into the bathroom. He returned with a large tube of anal lube, then returned to sucking me off. He simultaneously rubbed the lube into his hole, fingering himself, and appearing to enjoy it.

Without much warning, he stood, straddled me, and sank onto my cock, enveloping me in the almost searing heat of his body. Down, and down he went, not stopping till he had my entire member deep inside him. I listened to his words of love, thoroughly loving the sound of his voice, the smell of his arousal, and the feel of him.

When he cussed, telling me to fuck him, I smiled, and happily obliged, driving my cock deeply into him, then with drawing, and repeating the thrusting, over and over again. For several minutes, this felt good, but I needed more, and I knew my mate did as well. I sat up, wrapped my arms around my mate, then, without exiting his body, flipped us both so that he was now on his back, legs wrapped around my hips.

I pulled back, leaving just the head in, and then plunged back in, going even deeper, and rubbing against his prostate in the process. I reveled in my mate's submission, and in the feeling of pride it gave me. Deeply I fucked, angling to make him explode first, something that was a rather big fantasy of mine.

I slowed the fucking down, and used long, languid strokes, while rotating my hips smoothly, for the purpose of making the cock seemingly dance inside his hole. Loud moans and yowls came from my mate, his fox-form stiffening in pleasure. I couldn't hold it much longer, so I began to fuck faster, still rolling my hips. He let out a loud scream of my name, coming hard, spraying his juice all over both of our forms, his tight hole tightening even more around my member, causing my own orgasm to rip through my body. With a roar, I succumbed to the feeling of orgasm, and spilled my seed into his prostrate form. It seemed I could not stop cumming, shooting stream after stream of hot cream into my fox's body. After what seemed like an hour, but must have only been moments, I wilted, and now lay on top of my mate, still inside him, as I was somewhat long.

I loved this feeling, the closeness, warmth, smell, taste of my mate, and then in that moment, I realized something. During my orgasm, I had actually unconsciously bit my mate in the act of claiming. There was a clear mark on his shoulder, and it was deep. I licked it softly to soothe it, and it seemed to somehow close the wound but leave a permanent mark. This fox was mine.

~=~=~

Thomas:

Explosive. That's the only way I can describe what it felt like. The feeling of intimacy combined with my mate's body inside me only seemed to cement what I already felt inside, that I was indeed mated to this wonderful male. I knew it within every part of me, and feeling the bite he inflicted on my shoulder only made the orgasm more intense. I was his, and I could not help screaming out his name when I came.

My only hope was that I could feel this closeness every night, in every way. I felt his tongue lave my shoulder, where the claiming mark was. I sighed happily, and closed my eyes. When he was finished, I reopened my eyes, and looked up into his eyes. I smiled, and said, "It didn't hurt, my mate. You have me, and I have you, and that's all we need."

He nodded, then lay his head on my shoulder, and we promptly slept, his cock still inside me.

~=~=~

Trace:

The next morning, we both woke, finding ourselves in each other's arms. That is a feeling that is hard to describe, no matter the vocabulary one might possess. It is a feeling, the memory of which stays with a person the entirety of his existence. I never thought, in my teens and early twenties, that this would ever happen.

For years, I'd thought that the boy I loved was out of my reach. Situations being what they were, with my family having moved away, and my grandparents' insistence that I attend University in a state far from my home, I thought it to be next to impossible to return to the man I saw as my mate even then, when I was just fifteen. Like my mate, I graduated high-school very early, at age fourteen, the same year he did. The next year, I was spirited away, my heart broken by the separation from Thomas.

Now, years later, I lay with him in my arms, waking from a most amazing night of lovemaking, followed by sweet sleep. Somehow, during the night, our bodies had moved so that I was wrapped from behind, with his muscular arms, and his morning hardness placed in the optimal position to enter me.

I knew he was sleeping soundly, but his body needed something I could easily give, and I realized I needed to give that gift to him. Without waking him, I reached to the bedside table, grabbed the lube, and carefully stroked the stuff onto his member. Then, repositioning it at my hole, I carefully sank back onto it, taking a man's member into my body for the first time, but not feeling one bit of the pain normally associated with such taking.

I sank to the hilt, taking the entirety of his turgid dick into my aching hole. I felt the heat and softness of the skin overlaying the rock-like muscle inside the shaft, and moaned softly as it spread me out. I felt the thick member's pulsing as I began to flex my hips, slowly fucking myself on his ample member.

For what must have been only a few minutes, I fucked myself very slowly and languidly, until I became aware of the change in his breathing that signaled that he was awake, and quite responsive. He took the fucking motion over, stopping my own movements. I relaxed, and let him move.

After a few moments, he said, breathlessly, "Oh, baby, why?" I knew why he said this. He thought I would be a total top, and he'd have been fully accepting of this.

I said quietly, "My love, I want us to be equal. No one should be a total top or bottom. I gave you my virginity, just as I took yours. From now on, I want us to be able to give and take as we need to. Now, if you please, stop the yammering, and fuck your mate like you know you need to."

That must have been the trigger he needed, because my fox let out a growl, and flipped me onto my stomach. He immediately started to piston in and out of my tailhole, using me for his own pleasure. I was gaining an immeasurable amount of pleasure from him, and was leaking precum all over the sheets of the bed. On top of that, the rubbing of my cock on the silk sheets was a sensation that had me reeling. I moaned deeply, and pushed back on the member penetrating my palpitating hole.

~=~=~

Thomas:

What an amazing way to wake up! I thought I was having the most amazing dream. First, I felt a strong, well-formed body in my arms. Then, that body was wrapped around me, and was moving languidly over my cock, sending waves of pleasure and heat all through my body. Then, I woke to find that I had not been dreaming at all. There was indeed a strong male body, fucking himself on my cock.

I was blown away, and even though I was grateful for this, I had to ask him why. His answer blew my mind, and it made me want to cry, while at the same time, it made my arousal all the more powerful. I obeyed the arousal, and proceeded to flip him on his belly, and fuck him, seeking to cum.

His moans were, to my aroused mind, like adding gasoline to a fire. I could not stop myself, now, and began to fuck him rather fast and hard. His was the first body I had ever penetrated, and I could not believe the intensity of the feelings. After a length of time, my thoughts seemed to disappear in the haze of arousal.

I growled, "I'm about to cum..." Trace moaned encouragement, and I let go. I saw white, as the orgasm exploded through my system. The impetus to mate caused me to need to bite something, and my jaws clamped down on his left shoulder. I bit hard and could taste a bit of blood, which made me cum again inside him. In the midst of the timeless flash of orgasm, I heard the yowl of a large cat, and it briefly entered my mind that I had made my mate cum. I blacked out. Completely.

When the cloud of pleasure left my mind, I realized I was now on my back, with my feline mate curled against me, purring loudly. I whispered softly, "Sorry for hurting you, love."

He chuckled, and replied, "Dear fox, you did not hurt me. You simply marked me, as I did you. We are, as I wished, equal." He sighed happily, "Besides, what set me off was you roaring out my name, followed by your bite. You made me cum harder than I've ever done."

I sighed, "Until you, I was a total virgin."

He kissed me deeply, and replied, "Mate, I am glad you gave that gift to me."

~=~=~

We dated for three months, before we decided that he should move into my house. We married exactly two weeks later, my brother and his own mate were best men. We eventually adopted a young shifter girl from an agency a few states away. Her name was Ella. She was a beautiful shifter, having not yet had her first shift. We knew that would come in time.

The one dark spot in our relationship occurred when Trace told his grandparents of his marriage to me. They told him never to call again. We decided that it did not matter to us. We would live happily no matter. And, Ella had the best uncles any one could ask for. We eventually moved to live near my brother, so that we could all take care of each other.

I took a job in that state as a prisons inspector. My job was to insure that prisons were held to the standards required by law, while still upholding what rights the residents still had. My job payed well, and I eventually came to own the company that was contracted to do the inspections.

Trace is an architect, and works for the company to analyze the blueprints, and make sure that code is followed. He is also payed rather well.

Life is good, and I no longer have to use the less-than-pleasant means to get my work done. And, what the best part about all this is, I am mated to the most incredible person any fur can be. Frankly, though, that should be the opinion of every person who has a mate he or she loves.

Is he perfect? No one is. But, he is perfect for me. And, finally, my life is full of the warmth and love I thought was nonexistent.

Now, I say to you, don't give up on love. If you give yourself time, someone will come to you. I promise it.

~=~=~

Author's Note:

Hello, everyone. This concludes the Becoming Warm saga. The story has been told, and I feel the finality of it. Thomas and Trace were an interesting couple for me to write about, and I feel I did them justice.

Sorry if the length is a bit shorter, but I thought this story was best told in this last chapter.

Thanks to my friends from ASLChat (You know who the hell you are...) who encouraged me. To the SF readers who wanted more of the story of Thomas, I give you this! Hope you enjoy.

And Finally, to the haters: Thank you for driving me to be a better writer, despite your hate. It is these messages of hate that have made me a better man, a better lover, a better writer, and therefore, I thank you.

To all of you following this saga, many thanks, and be well. Hope you like what you read.

Other stories are in the offing, and it is my hope they go well.

Love and life to you,

Aragon.