The Eros Agency
Trying out a new idea. Feedback and comments are always appreciated!
Also, I know the formatting may be off in a few places. It took me over 30 minutes to figure out how to get this far with the new system (how I miss the days of just being able to upload from an already-formatted file and being done with it!), and I just gave up. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy!
The Eros Agency, Chapter 1
Marian stared at her browser, fingers ghosting over the keyboard, suddenly losing her nerve. The raven-haired gray wolf inwardly snarled at herself. You did not claw your way to partner just to turn back at something as simple as this. You're a wolf, goddammit, show some backbone!
She clicked on the search bar and typed in the URL: eros.agency.com
She hit enter.
As she waited for the site to load, she ran her fingers through her long wavy hair and thought about what exactly had led her here. What had she been thinking? I just wanted to do a crossword, she thought. That was the only reason she had bought a newspaper; who bought newspapers these days, when you could easily get the news on your phone? Well, okay, she also bought the newspaper because of a very important court case - her case, the one she was prosecuting - had made the front page. If that wasn't worth framing, she didn't know what was. Screw online testimonials and word-of-mouth; having a client come into her office and see that framed on the wall next to the other framed articles, and her degrees from prestigious colleges would be much more effective.
Marian collected and clipped every article that mentioned her and cases she had worked on. She was the youngest person to ever make partner at her law firm, and the first woman. Glass ceiling not only shattered, she thought with no small amount of satisfaction, I nuked that sonofabitch. She knew, thanks to office gossip, that the only reason she had been made partner was because she was so ruthless, she had the opposition quaking in their boots. If a defendant knew she was the prosecutor, the defense knew they were screwed. The wolf also strongly suspected that not only did rival firms fear her...her superiors were scared shitless of her, too.
In that newspaper she had bought, one page before the crossword and Sudoku puzzles, was an ad, unobtrusive, easily missed by someone not paying attention. But it had caught Marian's attention.
"Looking for something you can't get anywhere else?" the ad had started. "Unsatisfied with your 'personal' life?" Great, another "come to Jesus" ad, she'd thought, until she read the rest: "Afraid to truly live out your wildest fantasies? The Eros Agency is your answer. Purely confidential. Purely discrete. Purely satisfying. Call us or visit us online at eros.agency.com."
A sex site? She'd heard of sites like that, people who went there, looking for a good time, a one-night stand, no strings attached. When she was younger, she'd tried one once, before she took her career more seriously. Back then, it had been just a way to blow off steam. She was stressed out, and no male she had dated, and certainly no Battery-Operated Boyfriend, would do.
Granted, the guy she'd hooked up from that site with didn't live up to that standard, either.
Marian had high standards. She knew she was uncompromising, she knew she was a control freak. She needed to be, she told herself. She would not have gotten as far as she did, would not have been as successful as she was, if she didn't control every last detail of her life.
But it was exhausting. It was draining to always be in control, always be "on". She got little rest, never took vacations, hell, she'd even prosecuted a case while suffering from the flu (and won).
After she had seen that ad in the paper, she had thought over everything. Her greatest fantasies? Well, she could think of only one fantasy...if she correctly understood what "fantasy" the ad was talking about.
And the website soon put her suspicions to rest. She clicked on the "About Us" link and read. The Eros Agency, LLC (Covering their asses pretty nicely, she thought), was founded, owned by, and run by a licensed clinical therapist, one Dr. Judith Fischer, who had extensive background in treating anxiety and depressive disorders, marriage counseling, and later, sex therapy. This woman (a red-headed vixen in her early to mid-40s, judging by the photo on the page) had set up a sort of...matchmaking site for people looking for a good time. It was nothing like the site Marian had used years ago; this was a site where people who wanted to fulfill even their wildest sexual fantasies could do so in a safe, legal environment.
Hmm, not bad.
She clicked other links on the site. On the FAQ page, she learned more: most of the transactions and matchmaking was done online. There was a physical address, if a potential client wanted to meet in person, perhaps come in for some therapy if they desired. But the bulk of the business was online, for those who were too shy - or too well known in the community - to go into Dr. Fischer's office.
Not bad at all.
Marian sat back in her chair and stared at a button on the left side of the screen. "Chat Now." Would Dr. Fischer even be online this late? The wolf snorted. Of course she'd be online; this was probably the time she had the most business. She clicked the button and a chat window opened up.
Marian hesitated before typing out a greeting. It was purely anonymous; her username was "guest_248". Jesus, how much business does this lady get? Then she got a response.
J.Fischer: Hello. How can I help you?
Marian hesitated again, steeled her nerve, and began to type.
Are you that therapist from the About Us page?
J.Fischer: Of course. Don't believe me?
guest_248: I don't believe anything on the internet. For all I know, you could be an FBI agent in some sting operation.
J.Fischer: lol, you're a savvy one. Alright, if you're unsure, we can videochat. Do you have a webcam?
Marian arched a brow. Well, in for a dime, in for a dollar; might as well see how legit this business really was.
guest_248: Sure, one sec.
She turned on her webcam (she really needed to upgrade her laptop) and turned on the mike. Then she waited. Then an image appeared on the screen. Sure enough, it was the vixen from the "About Us" page, the owner, CEO, and therapist, Dr. Judith Fischer. She was dressed simply enough in a button-up shirt and loose cardigan, with reading glasses perched near the tip of her auburn muzzle, and Marian was, surprisingly, instantly put at ease by the warm smile on the vixen's face.
"Hello there. Do you want to use first names, or remain anonymous?" she asked.
"You don't know who I am?" Marian asked.
"Does it matter?"
Marian thought about it. "I guess not."
"Good. So Miss...?"
"Marian."
"Marian, that's a lovely name. Well Marian, what can I do for you?"
The wolf bit her lip; Dr. Fischer noticed it immediately. "Are you uncomfortable talking about this face to face?"
"No! I mean, no, no I'm not," she said, fighting down a blush. What was wrong with her? "Is it true that you can...fulfill all fantasies?"
"All sexual and romantic fantasies? Yes. In five years, I haven't had one unsatisfied client." The vixen was patient, soft-spoken, but, Marian could tell, was very savvy and knew how to read people. The wolf sighed and got right to the point.
"Okay, here goes...I work in a pretty high-stress job."
"Okay."
"I'm always in control - I have to be. So...lately I've been having this one fantasy that...just won't go away."
The vixen on the screen nodded for her to continue.
Marian took a deep breath. "I take control in everything. And I mean everything. I am a control freak."
"Including in the bedroom, am I right?"
Wow, she was good. "Um...yeah."
"There's nothing wrong with that," the vixen assured. "Being in control and having autonomy of our bodies is very important, but the important thing is that we feel safe when it comes to our sexuality. But something tells me that's not why you're here..."
"No. It's..." she sighed, and finally blurted it out. "I want to be dominated."
If she was surprised, the vixen didn't show it. "Go on."
"I...I take control in anything, and just once - just once - I want someone else to take control. I am a feminist, and I'm proud of that...but the thought of a man having total control over me in the bedroom...It's hot, but I feel guilty for feeling that way."
"Why is that?"
"Because isn't that what feminism is about? Not letting anyone control you, especially a man?"
Dr. Fischer sighed and shook her head. "No dear, that's not what feminism is at all. Take it from someone who was there: Feminism means having equality between the sexes, male, female, and everything in between. It isn't about one gender dominating the other. It never was. When it comes right down to it, feminism is all about having choices and living your life the way you want to. Deciding to leave your career to be a stay-at-home-mother, for example, doesn't make you any less of a feminist; it's about the choice. If a man wants to be a stay at home father or a nurse, he should be free to do so; if a woman wants to be a doctor or a lawyer, she should be free to make that choice too. Your fantasy doesn't make you less of a feminist, or less of a woman. In short: you shouldn't feel guilty, because you're not betraying anything, and you're not going back on your beliefs. If anything, you're doing yourself a great disservice by feeling forced to make the choice of not following through. Does that make sense?"
Heartbreakingly so, Marian thought. But she mutely nodded, not trusting herself to speak. That explanation hit a little too close to home. She decided to switch tactics.
"So how does this work?" the wolf asked.
Dr. Fischer seemed to know the reason for the abrupt change in subject, but she didn't push it. "The service? Well, I ask you to fill out a questionnaire on the site (usually my clients are too shy to talk face-to-face, or well, face-to-screen), and I find within my database someone who would be sexually compatible and willing to live out your fantasy with you. In your case, you want to be dominated - by a male, correct?"
"Yes."
"Okay - just so you know, we're equal opportunity, here, and do both same-sex and opposite-sex matches - and in this case, I would look for a male in my client listing who is looking to fulfill a dominance fantasy. The key here is compatibility. I'm not going to set you up with someone you're going to dislike, because it'll take away all the pleasure from the experience."
"So it's like eFurHarmony mixed with a one-night-stand site?"
"Not in so many words, but at its core, yes. This isn't prostitution; this is, by and large, a matchmaking service. Any online matchmaking service, well, sex is not explicitly stated, but it's implied that it happens. Sites like eFurHarmony are intended for long-term commitments; this is more short-term. If it turns into something long-term, well, win-win, but I tell all clients not to come into this with false expectations. I'm not a marriage broker."
"So you were a therapist?"
"Still am. Mostly marital counseling, depressive and anxiety disorders, and sex therapy. This seemed the next logical step because I kept seeing the same issues coming up over and over again. I created this business to give clients a safe, legal, totally above-board way to explore their sexuality. All clients undergo a background check; anyone with a record is not allowed to join."
"So no sex offenders, violent crimes, or even traffic tickets?"
"A speeding ticket or two isn't a huge issue. However, I draw the line at DUIs and people with a history of violence. My number one priority is the safety and health of my clients."
"I'm assuming that means an STD test too?"
"Yes; that's non-negotiable, as is using protection. Just like in any therapy or medical situation, you have doctor-patient privilege. Anything we discuss does not become public knowledge."
"Good. I can't afford people knowing about...me doing this."
"I completely understand. So, do you have any other questions?"
Marian thought about it, but nothing came to mind. She shook her head.
Dr. Fischer smiled. "Alright. Fill out the questionnaire, and we'll get the ball rolling."
A couple weeks later, Marian's phone pinged, alerting her to an email. She was at a luncheon with her fellow partners, celebrating another case won, and excused herself to check the message. It was from the Eros Agency.
"Got the results: you are good to go," it read, "Everything checks out, and already have a match. If you are still interested, please reply 'Yes', and a convenient time to work out the details. - J. Fischer."
Marian couldn't fight down the blush, and quickly drained her glass of ice water to hide it. One of her fellow diners noticed anyway.
"You okay, Marian?" asked Mason, the senior partner. He was a grandfather, whose two kids - and now one grandkid - worked at the firm. Only his son had made partner; his daughter was a paralegal, and his grandson was an intern. Mason, a bulldog, had always treated Marian as a second daughter. At times, he couldn't help but be a bit protective; this was a family business, after all.
She swallowed. "Yes, I'm fine," she breathlessly replied.
"You sure? You look flushed. Maybe you should go home after this. A real nasty bug's been going around..."
"I agree with Dad," said Sam, Mason's son. "You've been working your ass off for months. You should go home and rest. It's Friday, and there's a long weekend ahead..."
"You deserve a rest!" Mason bellowed. "You're the rising star in this firm, and with the Berrelli case next month, I need you in the best of health!"
"But I have work..." Marian began to protest.
Sam waved her off. "It can wait until Tuesday. Go home and put your feet up. We'll survive an afternoon."
Still unsure - but not willing to displease her boss, she excused herself, gathered her things and left some cash to pay her part of the bill. When she got outside, a blast of cold air hit her hard. She hated February. Adjusting her scarf and gloves, she took out her phone and read the message again. She sighed, replied "Yes - call anytime" and walked to her car.
That Saturday night, Marian stood in the lobby of a nice hotel. She was glad she was meeting this guy in neutral territory. She didn't know what she'd do if she had been expected to go to his place or him to come to hers. Dr. Fischer had made all the arrangements; Marian was to check into a suite that was connected to another through a single door. Marian's partner for the evening would meet her up in his own suite. He was bringing his own equipment. The wolf wasn't sure how she felt about that.
Did that mean bondage? (Actually, she'd seen several bondage videos on the internet that had gotten her hot and bothered) Toys? (She had plenty of her own, which she had packed in her overnight bag). What sort of "equipment" did he need?
As the wolf picked up her room key and headed for the elevators, she couldn't help but start to feel a mix of arousal and nervousness. She wasn't going to back out now, but she was still nervous. Who the hell was she going to sleep with tonight? How could she be sure she could trust him? Background searches be damned, she knew as well as anyone else that those searches didn't always catch everything. At least she had told a friend where she'd be - not what she would be doing, exactly; this hotel was known for its nice spa. As far as the friend was concerned, Marian was there for some R&R...not S&M.
When she got to her room, she closed and locked the door behind her, careful to place the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the handle first. She looked around her suite. Nothing fancy, but very minimalist and Zen. It had a lovely view of the city and the harbor. She had already eaten dinner, and decided to settle in. She took off her coat and scarf and hung them in the closet. She unzipped her knee-high boots and set them by the front door.
She ran her hands over her stockings. The wolf figured this would be as good a time as any to wear the laciest, sexiest lingerie she owned: black lace bra, panties, and garter belt, with black thigh-high stockings running up her long shapely legs. Though it hadn't been a workday, she still wore her Killer Outfit, as she called it: a silver silk button-up shirt and black pencil skirt that hugged her curves in all the right ways. She'd never lost a court case while wearing it. It made her feel powerful, confident, sexy...and though she was here to be dominated, not to dominate, she still wanted to impress this guy, whoever he was.
She jumped at the knocking coming from the other side of the door to the adjoining suite. She stood up, smoothed her skirt and shirt, and walked over to unlock and open the door. Her heart thudded in her chest. The door creaked open. Who would it be...?
She gaped.
He gaped.
"Fletcher?!" she gasped.
"Marian?!" he gasped.
She brought a hand up to her mouth. Shit! Fletcher Harrison - a hare - was one of the best damn defense attorneys in the city, possibly the state! Oh, shit! Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit shit shit!
His jaw hung open a moment before he tugged at his shirt collar and cleared his throat. "So, um...are you...sure you got the right room?" he asked in his Southern drawl.
"Are you sure you got the right room?" she answered.
"Uh, yeah. Okay, hold on," he said, holding his hands up in a placating manner. Marian hated how easy-going the hare was. Fletcher was her exact opposite: he believed that everyone deserved a fair chance, even if they were clearly guilty; she believed that if they had been arrested and were clearly guilty, they deserved to have their tail nailed to the wall. He was a funny, salt-of-the-earth farm boy raised in the South with a Yankee law degree; she was the ball-busting frigid Northern bitch that nobody fucked with if they wanted to keep their spleen intact.
"Can we not do this?" he asked. "We're not in the courtroom, we don't need to be at each other's throats."
"Okay, fine."
"Good. So...did Dr. Fischer send you here?" he asked.
Marian sighed. Might as well be honest. "Yes, she did."
Fletcher paused. "Do you think she knows that we know each other?"
"That, or the Universe hates me, and somewhere God is rolling on the floor, laughing his ass off at me."
The hare looked hurt. "And what about me?" he joked. "Am I so unimportant?"
Marian rolled her eyes, then thought for a moment. "So, wait a minute...you have dominance fantasies?"
"And you - of all people - have submissive fantasies?"
She crossed her arms. "What of it?"
To her shock, he smirked. It was the same smirk he got whenever he beat her in court. And he had. Many times. Without using dirty tricks. And she hated him for it. She wanted to smack that smirk right off his smug face. Then he laughed.
"What's so funny?" she demanded.
He wiped tears of mirth from his brown eyes. "Just...ha! You just expect the roles here t'be reversed, y'know?"
Marian returned the smirk. "Well...yeah, I guess so. So...psychoanalysis time, or just get this over with?"
"You wound me, you really do," he said overdramatically. "I just ordered pizza. Didn't expect you to get here so early. The email said you'd be late."
"Yeah, well, traffic wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."
They stood in uncomfortable silence for a moment before the hare thumbed over his shoulder. "You wanna come in, have a slice or two when it arrives? Don't feel right doin' the deed without talking to the girl first."
Marian hesitated. She'd eaten - a salad - and pizza did sound tempting...
"It's Meat-Lover's," he added, "Pepperoni, sausage, and ham."
The wolf smirked. "I think I hate you a little less, now. Any guy who loves Meat-Lover's pizza can't be that bad."
He grinned, opened the door wide, and let her in.
"So what led you to Eros anyway?" Marian asked. She and Fletcher were sitting on the bed in his suite, watching some atrociously bad crime drama and commiserating over how badly those shows got it wrong. He reached for another slice of pizza, offered it to her, which she declined; she'd had three huge slices already and couldn't eat another bite. He bit into it himself and chewed thoughtfully for a moment.
He gestured towards the screen. "...They always go for the insanity defense in these shows, you notice that?"
"I notice you're avoiding the question."
He chuckled and wiped his hands with a napkin. "Straight for the jugular, as always. Okay. I went to Eros because I was looking for something that my usual partners weren't giving me. I mean, sure, a lot of females like it when the male takes charge, but not in the way I want to take charge."
"Meaning what?"
He shrugged. "Leather cuffs, blindfolds, riding crops, light pain, that sort of thing. I mention those things and usually has 'em running for the hills."
The wolf paused. All of that...actually sounded pretty scintillating. She debated telling him that, then bit her lip, and told him. His long ears perked up at that. He seemed a bit surprised, then glanced at her and asked,
"Lemme guess: Catholic upbringing?"
"All-girls Catholic school for seven years," she answered.
"Yikes."
"Tell me about it." She paused, picking at her cuticles, before she answered his unspoken question. "I went to Eros because...well, I want someone to dominate me. I'm always in control, I don't know how to relax, how to let someone else take the reins. I've been thinking about it for awhile, but...I think it would be healthy for me to - just once - give up control in...that field...just once, you know?"
He nodded in complete understanding. "Of course."
"The trouble is, I can't ask any of my usual partners to do this. I don't trust them to keep this a secret."
"And yet you get paired up with me."
"Like I said, I think the Universe is conspiring against me."
He closed the pizza box and began unbuttoning his shirt. He had long ago abandoned his tie (client meeting earlier in the day, he'd explained, and that he wanted to look sharp for his date). Marian decided to join him, reaching to unbutton the top of her shirt, rolling her shoulders and popping her back.
He winced. "That sounded painful."
"I'm used to it."
"You want a massage?"
She arched a brow at him.
"No funny business," he promised. Then he smirked, "Unless you want there to be."
She sighed and continued unbuttoning her shirt. "Might as well. We paid for the service, we both came here expecting...something. Might as well follow through."
"That's not good enough for me."
She had unbuttoned halfway, stopped, and stared at him. He looked perfectly serious.
"Marian, we might not see eye-to-eye on...well, on anything. But I still respect the hell outta you. If you don't want to go through with this, just tell me. I won't blame you, I won't be upset, I just don't want you thinking you're obligated to do this just because we both paid for a service."
"You're asking for my consent."
"Well, duh."
Still fingering the buttons on her shirt, Marian thought about it. Did she still want to do this? If it had been anyone else but Fletcher, she probably would've already been in cuffs and her partner would already be balls deep inside her. The thought made her shiver. Fletcher was a very handsome hare, she had to admit. When she'd first met him, she had felt attracted to him. Professional differences aside...there was something inherently sexy in the way he threw himself headfirst into his job, defending even the worst criminals like a lapin Atticus Finch. That damn moral code of his was annoying when she had to go up against it, but at any other time, she admired how he stuck to his guns, even when backed into a corner and knowing he was going to lose.
He was a very admirable man. And she told him so before she was aware she had said it. Once she did, the rest of it came pouring out: "I said I didn't know anyone I could trust to do this. Well...I trust you. I know next to nothing about you outside of work, and we're enemies in the courtroom...but I still trust you. I know you wouldn't hurt me, even if I've been an antagonistic bitch the entire time we've known each other."
"I wouldn't say the entire_time," he said cheekily. "You've got your ways, I've got mine. But, before this goes any further - even if all you want is a massage - are you _sure you want to do this?"
He was so earnest in his asking, she smiled and nodded, "Yes, I'm sure. And for the record...if this goes beyond the massage - like, way beyond - then I'm okay with that, too."
Fletcher smiled and scooted over to let her lie down. "Alright then. Face down, shirt off, you can keep the bra on if you want. Shoulders?"
"Yes, please."
He was very good at giving massages, she realized. When was the last time she'd had a professional massage? She couldn't remember. But it didn't matter. What he was doing felt amazing. Her shoulders were very stiff, and he had a hard time getting her to relax, but once he did, she couldn't help but let out some pleasured moans and close her eyes in bliss. She felt like falling asleep - was this what it felt like to be relaxed, she wondered? She sighed happily as he kneaded her shoulders a little harder. "That feels absolutely amazing..." she groaned. "Where'd you learn how to do this?"
"I was a licensed masseuse for a while after college. My Bachelor's didn't get me far, but giving massages in various salons helped me save enough for law school. At least it's something to fall back on if law doesn't work out."
She smiled. "I'd say it's working out just fine." She groaned again as he pushed hard down into her back, hearing bones popping in her shoulder. At first alarming to hear, then absolutely relaxing, she melted into the mattress, melting under his skillful hands as they moved down her back. Marian felt a twinge of disappointment though. Him holding her down like that felt...really hot. She'd even felt the heat wash over her when he did.
He stopped. "You okay?"
She nodded. Then she asked, "You know when you pushed really hard on my shoulders?"
"Yeah?"
The area between her thighs suddenly throbbed as she asked, "Could you do that again?"
He shifted above her, and the throbbing got harder, undeniable now, when he put his palms on her shoulders and held her down.
"Just like that?" he asked, his voice dropping into a husky whisper.
Christ, she was wet already. She bit her lip and nodded, whispering back, "Yes, just like that."
He pressed down harder. "You like being held down like this?"
She nodded. God, she was getting even wetter. He hadn't even done anything, and she was nearly soaking her panties. Either it was testament to how long it had been since she had last had sex...or she was going to enjoy living this fantasy more than she expected.
"You want more?" he asked.
She nodded. "Yes."
He pressed his hips against her tail, rubbing up between her cheeks. She gasped. He was hard already! "How much more?"
Her face felt hot, but she managed to say, "All of it. Will...will you dominate me?" She hissed when he pressed his hips against hers again. She was wetter than ever.
"I would be happy to," he whispered in her ear. His hot breath on her neck was nothing compared to his tongue flicking along her ear. She let out a noise that was somewhere between a gasp and a groan, and tried to move away, but found he had pinned her to the bed. The best she could do was squirm under him, but it only got her hotter, and she could feel him getting harder through his pants.
"I brought some of my toys with me," she said. She gasped as he tugged a bit on her hair and said,
"Naughty girl...go get them. And strip when you get back."
"Underwear too?"
"Not yet." Then he grabbed a handful of her ass through her skirt, kneading and massaging that as well before giving it a light smack and sending her back into her suite.
Marian's legs shook under her, her heart hammered against her chest. It was going to happen, this was finally happening! She was too excited to be scared now. She quickly took off her skirt and flung her shirt on the bed before reaching into her bag and grabbing a couple dildos, a vibrator and her favorite toy, a G-spot stimulator. Though small compared to the others, it always made her cum, and hard. She also grabbed the box of condoms she had bought, and hurried back into his room.
Her eyes widened and she bit her lip. He had mentioned them before, and there they were: leather cuffs, straps to tie her down to the bed, a blindfold, a ball gag, a riding crop, and toys and condoms he had brought, the latter two still in their packaging. He had taken his shirt off to reveal a nicely defined chest and muscular arms, and was unbuckling his belt when he caught sight of her. Marian liked what she saw; who knew those suits hid such a nice body? He licked his lips in a predatory way that made her shiver.
"Well what have we here?" the hare asked, appraising her body just as she was appraising his. He walked over and slapped her ass, making her gasp and groan. "Oh, do we like that?" he asked her before his hand dipped between her legs and rubbed against her panty-covered lips. It was his turn to gasp. "Oh...we really like that..."
Marian blushed and groaned as he rubbed her nether lips, but carefully avoided her clit. She moaned in protest, bucking her hips forward against his covered cock, trying to rub up against something. He pulled away. "Ah-ah, not so fast. I get to decide if and when you cum. How does that sound?"
She eagerly nodded, setting her toys and the condoms down on the bed. He reached over and grabbed the blindfold and pulled it over her eyes. Her excitement spiked, especially when he put her hands behind her back and placed her wrists in the cuffs. He took a deep whiff of the air, and she knew he could tell how aroused she was. She sniffed the air and could smell his arousal as well.
Fletcher hugged her from behind and gently caressed her front, hands moving over her breasts and stomach. "If I go too far," he whispered, "You need to give me a safe word. Something you wouldn't ordinarily say..."
"Pro bono," she answered.
He laughed. She smiled. She liked his laugh.
"Okay, that's good. Now," he slipped back into character and grabbed her breasts, tweaking her nipples through her bra. "Where were we? Oh right...I was about to do this."
He pushed her roughly forward and she fell face first onto the bed. She moved her head to be able to breathe and gasped and trembled when she felt his hands on her hips, pulling them off the bed, and his hot breath against her snatch. He inhaled deeply and ran his tongue up between her legs. The wet heat and wet silky fabric against her lips made her shudder and groan. She pushed her hips back against his face, and heard him tug his belt off, and pull down the zipper of his pants. The whole time, he didn't let up on his sweet oral torture.
Marian squirmed on the bed, her hips staying still only because he held them in a vice-like grip so uncharacteristic for his species. She didn't care. She couldn't see what he was doing, and that just made her even hotter.
He pulled her panties aside and she finally - finally! - felt his tongue against her bare flesh. She _squealed_and panted as his tongue darted between her lips and started thrusting in and out of her. She felt so wanton, so exposed, and it felt wonderful. The wolf could smell the hare's arousal even more. The unmistakable slick sound of his hand running up and down his cock and his moans against her pussy made her groan even louder.
"Please, I want you inside me!" she begged.
He stopped abruptly. She whined. "Please, Fletcher, fuck me! I can't stand it, get inside me--ah!"
He had stood up and thrust two fingers right inside her. Her pussy hungrily devoured them as he slowly fingered her. She bucked her hips against his hand, keening and moaning, desperately trying to feel more pleasure.
"I don't think you understand how this works," he said, and she could hear the smirk in his voice. "You don't call the shots, here. I do. When I want to fuck you, I'll fuck you. When I want you to cum, you'll cum." With that, he slid his fingers out of her and she let out a disappointed sob. She had been so close! This was torture!
She heard him moving about the room, but she dared not move. He hadn't told her to.
"Hmm..." he mused. "I could use the ball gag...but I like hearing those noises you make," he wickedly finished. "I want to hear every moan, every cry, every little thing that comes out of your mouth, I want to hear it. So make it nice and loud for me, babe."
She jumped at the loud snap. Curious, yet a little frightened, she held still, wondering what he was planning.
When he came back to her side, she heard the tear of a condom wrapper and got excited all over again. That could only mean one thing. She wanted his cock, she wanted it so badly it would have shocked her if she had not already been restrained, blindfolded, and bent over his mattress.
He tugged her panties down, effectively peeling the soaked fabric off her wet folders, and stopped just under her cheeks.
This was it. She bit her lip, wiggling her hips and waiting for him to enter her. Instead, she shouted when something smacked hard against her backside. "Ow!"
He stopped. "You alright? You want me to stop?"
Shit, that had hurt like hell. But at the same time, now that the sting had lessened, it felt...good. "I'm okay...but maybe not so hard?"
"You got it."
Smack!
Marian groaned. The snap she had heard - she was sure of it - was his belt. Christ, he was spanking her with his belt. And it felt great...no, not great. It felt fucking fantastic! She lost count of how many times that leather strap fell across her ass, especially once his hand began scratching at the base of her tail. She raised her tail and her ass even higher, whining and keening. She was finally rewarded when she felt something hard and wrapped in a condom positioned itself at her pussy lips and began to push in.
...She was disappointed. It wasn't his cock. It was one of her dildos. The sonofabitch tricked her. But when he started moving it in and out of her, she decided it didn't fucking matter. Her nose was assaulted with his arousal, and the rustle of fabric told her that he had finally completely disrobed. She smelled his musk, pungent against her nose, then felt the indignity of his dick slapping her cheek.
"Open up," Fletcher ordered. "You wanted my cock, you need to slick it up, first."
Marian licked her lips and opened her mouth. She hadn't expected him to be as big as he was. Her jaw was going to be very sore before long, unused to having something so big in her mouth. So much for those stereotypes about rabbits - hares, she corrected herself, and began to suck on the tip. It was an awkward angle, she couldn't bob her head back and forth, she could lick and suck the sensitive head, but that was about it. But he didn't seem to care. She rolled her tongue around the tip, slurping some of the precum leaking from his slit, earning her a moan from him.
"Naughty girl...you're good at this. Go on," he grabbed her hair and yanked her up. "Slick that dick up."
If someone had told her that morning that having her hair pulled like that while getting leisurely fucked by a fake dick would have her practically coming, she would have called them insane. But that hard yank made her pussy throb even harder. She went down on him, swallowing him whole. He gasped in surprise, but she didn't let up. Her tongue rubbed against the underside of his cock. God, she wanted to devour this man, or have him devour her, she didn't care anymore.
His fingers threaded through her thick hair, gripping it at times when she sucked hard, or did a little trick with her tongue. He panted and she could feel his rapid heartbeat in throbbing of his cock, his glorious, glorious cock. He hadn't let up on fucking her with the dildo. As much as she was pleasuring him, he was still making it pleasurable for her.
"Goddamn," he gasped. "Goddamn, you're good." He pulled the dildo out of her pussy and positioned the tip a little higher. "You want?"
Marian pulled herself off his cock and nodded. "Yes. God, yes, do whatever you want!"
She still couldn't see, but she could practically hear the smile when he caressed her cheek and said, "Good girl." He began to push the dildo into her ass.
Her body resisted at first. She'd played around with anal on her own, and, yes, she was sure she had even had this particular dildo insider her ass at one point, but she had to remind herself to relax. It had been slicked up pretty well from the pre-lubed condom, plus her own juices that were a veritable torrent now. Fletcher rubbed her ears as he slowly eased the dildo deeper and deeper into her ass. She ignored the pain and the uncomfortable feeling by taking him back into her mouth and sucking hard. He jerked and stopped suddenly, then roughly yanked her off him by her hair.
"Fuck, Marian, do that again and I will cum!" he gasped. "Someone likes getting their ass played with..."
She quivered when he started moving the dildo in and out of her tailhole. It still hurt a bit. She hadn't been fully prepared for this. By now she was practically weeping for him to get inside her. She didn't need to beg this time.
Fletcher got up, got behind her, his hand still working the dildo in her ass. He stopped, gave her ass another slap and told her to hold still. Her wrists were getting sore, her ass was certainly sore, and her pussy was aching so much for his touch, for his cock, that she was ready to cry.
He tore open another condom.
Please God let this one be for his cock, she prayed. She rejoiced when she felt his hot, hard flesh, safely encased, poke at her lips, then sink in all at once. She let out a loud cry. She had never done something like this before. She felt so deliciously full, the thick dildo in her ass, and Fletcher's thicker cock in her pussy...she was so close to coming that she was sure one thrust would be her undoing.
He gripped her hips. She felt his fingernails digging into her fur. He pulled out just a little and sank back into her. He met no resistance, and sank in balls deep. Marian gasped when his cock head hit her cervix, and cried out just from the feeling of having him inside her. He was going slow, had stopped teasing her with the dildo, and just focused on his own thrusting.
She squirmed under him, unable to move her hips, but the rest of her body had no such restrictions. She couldn't even string a sentence together anymore.
"F-Fuck, Fletcher, you feel so fucking good oh my fucking Christ that feels so good! Yes!"
Her clit had been ignored up until now, and it throbbed painfully. Still it was a wonder to her that she was this turned on and this close to coming without any clitoral stimulation. This man was a Sex God. Had to be. There was no other explanation for it.
He picked up the pace of his thrusting quickly. She let out little whimpers and gasps and groans as he pounded into her, biting her lip and concentrating hard on everything but how good this felt. She was dangerously close, and hadn't he said he didn't want her coming without his permission? Almost as if reading her mind, he asked,
"You gonna come for me, baby? Fuck, you're so tight and wet. I could fuck you for hours..."
Marian suddenly growled, clenched her hands into fists and piteously whined, gasping with each hard thrust. "Please let me cum. I want to cum with you inside me, I want you to cum inside me! Fletcher, please, I can't take much more!"
He grabbed a fistful of her hair and she groaned again, her breaths leaving her in short, sharp gasps.
"You wanna cum, baby?"
She practically shrieked, "Yes!"
"Alright..." He leaned back a little and played with the dildo in her ass. Marian bit her lip and keened loudly. "When you cum, you better cum screaming my name."
He began moving the dildo inside her again, alternating with his thrusts: the toy slid out as his cock slammed home, and reentered when he started to pull out.
Marian would later marvel at how he was able to concentrate on three things at once...yes, three, because while he was thrusting wildly into her, one hand was fucking her ass with the dildo, and the other reached underneath them to finally rub her clit.
He had barely touched her clit, rubbed it only twice before she came screaming. He slipped the dildo from her ass as her orgasmic scream began, intensifying her pleasure so much she thought her whole soul was being ripped apart. She shuddered violently beneath him, strained against the cuffs, screamed his name over and over as he continued to fuck her. She clamped down hard around him, and it wasn't much longer before he slammed his cock in as deep as it could go and let out his own loud groan as he came.
He ground his hips against hers, holding himself inside her as his body jerked with each ejaculation. Marian felt a bit disappointed that she wouldn't be able to feel his cum leaking out of her...God that would have been hot.
But she was experiencing an unexpected side effect. Her throat felt raw from the pleasured cries and final scream, and her body felt heavy and listless. An overwhelming need to sleep came over her. She felt her body go limp as Fletcher recovered enough to undo the cuffs and take the blindfold off her. She lazily glanced back at him, sweaty and panting over her. She gave him a tired smile, and with a sigh she welcomed the blackness that came over her.
She had no idea how long she had been out, but when she woke up, the room was pitch dark except for the red glare from the alarm clock on the nightstand. The sheet and comforter had been placed over her naked body (when the hell did that happen, she wondered?), and Fletcher slept soundly next to her.
At first she puzzled over how and why she was in this situation, in a strange bed, strange room, with the last man on earth she ever expected to be with...then she recollected her previous evening and lay back in the plush pillows with a contented, yet exhausted sigh.
The alarm clock read 6:45 AM. She rarely slept this late, even on weekends. But her whole body was achy and sore, felt weighted down in a way that only a super intense workout made her feel...but then, that was exactly what had happened, right?
She ruminated on the previous night's escapades. What else could she call it? She'd enjoyed herself, far more than she expected to. She wondered if he'd enjoyed himself. He seemed to.
Unable to fall back asleep, Marian eased herself up to a sitting position on the edge of the bed and leaned forward. She doubted she would be able to walk, and she was still shaky on her legs as she made her way back to her own room. Fletcher was kind enough to provide pizza; she might as well return the favor with breakfast in bed.
Fletcher didn't wake up until room service arrived at his room. Perplexed, he answered the door with a towel around his waist and wearily let the waiter in, tipped him, and sent him on his way. He looked up when Marian entered the room, slowly, gingerly padding back to the bed. He smiled, "I'm guessing you had something to do with this?"
"You treated me to dinner, I should treat you to breakfast."
"Is that how this works?"
"If not, it should." They settled in and ate a hearty breakfast, neither saying much. Marian guessed he was thinking where to go from here, just as much as she was. She doubted she could look at him the same way again, or even look him in the eye if they met in court. If last night had been a mistake, it was one she certainly enjoyed. It felt...good to let go. In fact, it felt great!
"So..." he started. "What now?"
She paused. "Do you want this to be a one-time thing, and never speak of it again?" Or are you looking for something more, she wanted to ask. "I don't think either of us will be able to look at the other the same way ever again."
"Agreed. It's gonna be downright awkward seeing you in court next time."
"Did you enjoy yourself?"
"You're damn right I did," he grinned. "What about you?"
"I thought my passing out like that was enough of a clue," she sarcastically replied. "But short answer: yes, I enjoyed myself very much."
He thought for a moment. "I admit, I do want to do this again, but I don't know if you'd be amenable to that."
She thought it over. She had never experienced such pleasure, such satisfaction. Of all the people in the world, she got both from her greatest rival. But was she - were they - willing to possibly risk their careers for this? And what if, in the future, this became something more than just sex? What if a relationship came out of this? He seemed to be thinking the same things. It was almost eerie how alike they were, how, at least right now, they both seemed to be on the same page. But Marian heeded Dr. Fischer's advice: don't look too much into this. They would cross that bridge if and when they came to it.
She answered, "I'm game if you are."