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Tides

By T. Glenn

I'll be the first to admit that I enjoyed the session--it happens occasionally, though not often enough. Marcus, Ricky and I had just finished up with this little red fox.

"That was a good last sesh," The black wolf commented as I caught up to him in the hall.

"Yeah," I agreed, "The best client I've had all week."

"I've still got one left today." Ricky said sadly as he followed us to the locker room, "And it's Charles too."

"Aw, I'm sorry buddy," I said putting my arm around the cheetah, "No one likes him." I gave him a kiss on the cheek, and he seemed to cheer up a little.

Charles was a frequent visitor at The Castle, too frequent if you ask me. He was an extremely wealthy banker type, and a real slime ball. None of us ever wanted to service him, but the management made a lot of money from him. He was old, unattractive, and often abusive. Don't get me wrong, we're not in this business because we think we'll get to hook up with beautiful people, but it is a little easier to perform if you think the client is attractive. Marcus wasn't even gay, but many of our male clients preferred wolves, and he was the only one on staff at the time. The Castle is a male brothel after all, and not many wealthy females are brothel patrons.

The three of us cleaned up in the showers, and Ricky got himself ready for his session with Charles. I dried myself off with a rough towel, and watched Ricky brush his teeth in the sink area of the locker room. His slight shoulders were slumped, and his ears pressed flat against his head. I felt a twinge of pity for him as he sprayed some scent on his fur, but there was nothing to be done about it.

Ricky left the locker room a little while later, and I pulled my street clothes out of my locker.

I pulled my shirt over my head and heard Marcus leaving through the back door, "See ya tomorrow Stan!" he called.

"Alright." I called after him, but the door had already closed.

I finished dressing and pulled my backpack from my locker. Retrieving my phone from the front pocket, I saw the I had a few messages from my sister Vitaliya

When are u coming by?

Can u get milk on the way?

I quickly texted back that I'd just gotten off and that I'd get the milk. I threw on my backpack and exited through the back door into the staff parking lot. The metal door closed behind me, and I made my way across the parking lot to my busted up car. The sun had gone down by then, and a cool breeze ruffled my fur as I made my way across the lot. The street light that illuminated the parking lot flickered as I unlocked my car door and climbed inside. It took me a minute or two, but I got the car started and took off on the way to my mother's house, stopping at the corner store to get the milk on the way. I was only a minute or two away from the house when I saw red and blue lights flashing in my rearview mirror.

"Oh fuck, please don't pull me over." I begged, slamming a paw on the steering wheel. I moved to the side of the road and sat in silence as the cop approached. A stout lion appeared at my window, rapping his flashlight against it as he came close.

"Roll down your window, Sir." I heard his deep voice through order through the glass.

"Ugh." I grunted out loud as I rotated the hand crank to lower the window.

"License and registration." The officer demanded.

"Alright, just a second." I said pulling open my glove box to retrieve the papers.

I handed them over and waited as the lion checked over my information.

"Do you know why I stopped you?" He asked as he compared me to the picture on my license.

"No, I don't"

"You need to replace your windshield, Sir," He said, shining his flashlight on the long crack that wound it's way through the glass, "It's not safe for you to be driving around with this huge crack."

"I know, I know, I just can't afford to get it fixed this month." I said, desperately hoping he'd let me off with a warning or something.

"Look," He said, "I understand that you're strapped for cash, but I have to cite you."

"I can't afford to get it fixed, so how could I afford to pay the ticket?" I asked incredulously.

"Look, Sir," His tone softened a little, "You won't have to pay the ticket unless you fail to replace the windshield. If you replace it in the next thirty days, then you won't have to pay the citation."

"Alright, I'll get it fixed." I said in resignation.

"Good, see that you do." He said, handing my papers back.

I sat quietly while he wrote the ticket, glaring angrily at my dash while he did.

"Have a nice night, Sir." The lion said, handing me a yellow slip of paper.

Needless to say, I was feeling a little agitated by the time I pulled into the driveway of my mother's squat one-story house. My car door squeaked loudly when slammed it closed, and the window fell open a little as the metal made contact. I managed to get the door closed while keeping the window up, though it took a few minutes, during which my sister came out to see what I was doing.

"Close your tail in the door again?" She teased as she came out.

"Not a chance," I shot back at her, "My damn car is falling apart is all."

Vitaliya often teased me about my clumsiness, and an oft cited incident involved me shutting my tail in a car door, fracturing it. I had to wear a cast on my tail for several months--something Vitaliya teased me for mercilessly then, and still found ways to tease me about years later.

"I wouldn't worry about it," She laughed as we walked inside, "No one is going to steal that thing anyway."

"Oh, yeah you're probably right." I agreed grudgingly.

I closed the door behind me and threw the locks, while Vitaliya took the gallon of milk from my paw and slinked away to the kitchen with it.

"Do you have the check?" She called from the kitchen.

I sat down on the couch, kicking out my feet, and started flipping channels on the TV.

"Stan?" Vitaliya appeared in the doorway to the kitchen.

"Yeah, I heard you," I looked over at her, "The appointment's tomorrow?"

"Yeah, with the oncologist at noon. She's been having trouble breathing, so we got an emergency appointment with Dr. Kits. Can you come with us?"

"I can't, I've got work," I said, looking back at the TV, "I'll just give you a blank check again."

"No need," She said, back in the kitchen again, "They said it would be forty-five hundred."

"Woof! Lucky thing tomorrow is pay day. I'm already broke." I said, pulling my checkbook out of my backpack.

"I know, Stan," Vitaliya came out into the living room and handed a bowl of stew to me, "Mom and I can't thank you enough for helping us out."

"I know, I'm just tired." I said, taking the spoon she held out to me.

Vitaliya alway made really good food, I have to admit. She loved to cook, and mom spent a lot of time cooking with her when she first got sick.

I ate quickly and then filled out the check Vitaliya would need for the doctor.

"Thanks." She purred as she took it gingerly from my paw.

I put my dishes on the drying rack after washing them, and stepped back into the living room.

"Mom's awake," Vitaliya said, emerging from my mother's room, "You can come talk to her for a minute."

I followed her back in, knocking as I stuck my head through the door, "Hey Mom, feeling okay?"

"Come in, Stanislav," She said softly from her bed, "I'm still alive." She made herself laugh, which turned into a nasty cough.

"Geez, take it easy Mom," I said, seating myself on the stool at her bedside, "Vitaliya said you've been having a hard time breathing."

Mom was wheezing as she breathed and she was looking worse than usual, given the circumstances. Vitaliya was doing something with Mom's IV, putting on another bag of liquids, I think.

"It's pneumonia, I think," Mom said after a while, "Dr. Kits said I was at risk."

"Well you've got an appointment tomorrow, I heard, so you'll be okay." I told her, trying to be optimistic.

"Yes, we'll see what happens," She said slowly, taking time to breath, "Maybe I should stay home, though."

"Well you have to go in, or the doctor can't help you," I said, not fully understanding what she meant.

"It's been over a year, Stanislav," She said, grabbing my paw with hers, "I haven't been getting any better."

Vitaliya came over to stand next to me, placing her paw on my shoulder.

"Listen Stan," My sister said softly, "We've been talking about it, and mom wants to move to palliative care from here on."

"Palliative care, what are you saying?" My ears flattened, and I felt myself getting emotional.

"I wouldn't have lasted this long without you, Stanislav," Mom said, squeezing my paw, "You've done so much for us--given us so much for my treatments."

I couldn't believe what the two of them were saying.

"You can still get better," I was agitated now, and pulled my paw away, "But you have to keep trying."

"You're going to the doctor tomorrow, Mom, and that's the end of it." I heard the edge in my voice as I stormed out of the room.

I went into the living room and picked up my backpack, trying to get outside before Vitaliya could catch me. I made it out and was almost to my car when I heard the front door open.

"Stan!" I heard my sister yell after me, "How could you run out like that?"

"How could you support this, Vi?" I snarled as I spun to face her, "When did the two of you decide this?"

"I had nothing to do with it, Stan," She spat back, "This was Mom's decision. You're being selfish!"

My hackles rose and my anger began to spill over, "I'm selfish?" I yelled, my voice echoing around the neighborhood, "Do you even know how much I've had to sacrifice, what I've had to do?"

It wasn't fair to say, and I knew it. Vitaliya made sacrifices to help our mother too. She put off going to college after high school, so that she could stay home and help care for mom. She was only eighteen, and should have been doing the things typical eighteen year olds do. When Mom's insurance stopped paying for her treatments, I was forced to quit my job with a well known acting troupe. Initially, I tried to get a job doing gay porno, but I never actually got cast in any. A recruiter for The Castle had been looking for aspiring prostitutes on set the day I auditioned, and he basically begged me to work there when he saw me. The salary was substantially greater than anything I could ever make doing stage performances (or gay porn for that matter), and I was desperate for the money. I tried to keep my new job a secret from my family, but Vitaliya started to wonder how I could pay for Mom's treatments, and she eventually found me out. I made her promise not to tell mom about it, though. I knew how guilty Vitaliya felt about what I was forced to do, and I knew that I could use her guilt to hurt her.

Vitaliya took a step backward, her ears flattening and tears welling in her eyes.

"I know, Stanislav," She cried, "Don't you think Mom feels guilty too? She's tired, and she feels like she's a burden on us."

I looked around the neighborhood, certain that people must be gawking now. No one was outside though, save for the moths fluttering around the street lights.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," I said, speaking calmly now, "Take Mom to the doctor tomorrow. I'll be here after work."

I pulled open the door and got in my car, getting it to start on the first try for once. I backed slowly out of the driveway, my headlights shining on Vitaliya as I did, casting a stark shadow on the house behind her.

It was getting late, and the traffic in town had died down a little. I felt oddly calm as I drove the familiar route to my dump of an apartment. I pulled into the parking lot, and stoically struggled to get the window to stay rolled up as I closed the car door. I trudged across the walkway, and into my apartment. It was a really awful place, but I needed to save as much money as I could to pay for my Mom's expenses. I sat down in my ragged chair and pulled a bottle of vodka off the floor. I just sat for a while, downing the liquor in large swigs and letting myself get drunk. I tried not to think of anything specific, but eventually found myself thinking about Ricky, the cheetah that I worked with at The Castle. We met the day I started working at the brothel, and we seemed to gravitate to each other. I got to know him very well, but there were some things he didn't seem comfortable sharing with me. He never wanted to tell me what drove him to do prostitution, but I could tell it was something he fell into unwillingly, same as me. Sure, there were guys who loved working at The Castle, most of them did actually. The money was very good, allowing one could live a very comfortable lifestyle (assuming they didn't have tens of thousands in medical bills to pay). In any case, I was certain that Ricky's situation was similar to mine in some way. Ricky had a very gentle soul, and I could never imagine him intentionally doing anything to harm someone. I developed some pretty strong feeling for him over time, but I had yet to find the courage to tell him how I felt.

I sat in that old worn out chair in my old worn out apartment, getting wasted on cheap liquor, and I fantasized about taking Ricky away with me. There were many different scenarios, but I had a favorite by far: I would make it big and get some job on a prime time TV show, or the lead role in some movie. I'd roll up to The Castle in my limo, telling my driver it would only be a minute as I stepped confidently toward the brothel. Then I'd burst inside and get Kelly, that snooty receptionist bitch, to tell me where Ricky was. Bursting into the room, I'd grab him away from whatever horrible client he was working on, and I'd wrap him in a towel or something like that. Carrying him out to the limo in my arms, I'd look into his eyes and see them gleaming with gratitude, and we'd drive away to live happily ever after. It would go something like that. I ran through that fantasy in my head over and over, and downed the rest of the vodka.

I pulled into the employee parking lot at 6:57 a.m. and stumbled my way through the back door of The Castle, throwing my backpack in a locker on my way to clock in. I managed to get in line behind the other models just before our manager, an irritable female badger named Mary, arrived and unlocked her office. Work started every day at 7:00 a.m. sharp, and Mary was very unforgiving when it came to punctuality, among other things. The models would have to line up to see her individually at the start of the day to receive a schedule with the clients we'd be servicing, and what services they'd requested. I leaned against the wall to my right, feeling my hangover crashing down over me. Tommy, a large brown bear, turned around in line when he noticed I was standing behind him.

"You look like shit, Stan." He said bluntly, "Mary ain't gonna be happy to see you lookin' like that."

"I just need a minute," I said rubbing my eyes, "I'll be okay."

"Whatever you say, buddy." He drawled, turning back around.

The line moved more quickly than I needed it to, and I soon found myself in Mary's office.

"You look like shit, Stan," She said sharply, "Are you drunk?"

"Not anymore, I think." I said, trying my best not to sound sick.

"Stan, this is not the first time you've shown up like this," She hissed, "What is going on with you?"

I couldn't bring myself to look her in the eye, choosing instead to look at the wall just above her head.

"I've been having a rough time, is all." I said meekly.

"Stan, I like you. The clients like you too, more importantly, but I can't have you coming here hungover or strung-out or whatever you are right now." Mary leaned back in her chair, "Let me make something perfectly clear: If you come to work looking like this again, I will fire you."

I nodded without saying anything, desperately hoping she was done so that I could get out of her office.

"Here's your schedule for today," the badger said, handing me a sheet of paper, "You've got about 4 hours until your first client. Get your blood drawn and get in the gym so you can sweat it out."

"I'll be ready for...Mr. Mason" I assured her, looking at my schedule to see who my first client was, "I promise."

As I turned to walk out of Mary's office, I heard her clear her throat,

"This isn't some cheap whorehouse, Stan." I stopped to hear her speak, "There are people who desperately want your job, and the pay that comes with it. These clients are paying for the best, and if you make me look bad, you will regret it."

I nodded again, and walked out toward the lobby.

Kelly is a horrible person, and I hate her. The vixen glared at me with her disgustingly condescending eyes as I walked through the lobby on my way to the lab.

"Oh my goodness, you look terrible!" I heard her say in her shrill disingenuous voice.

"You too." I mumbled as I walked by her. She gasped indignantly, like we'd never insulted each other before. Kelly had this unearned air of superiority that made me unreasonably angry every time I saw her. She often treated the models as if we were street whores, or something else she held a similar disdain for. Dr. Rivera, on the other hand, was a sweetheart.

"Hey, Doc" I said as I stepped into the lab, passing Tommy on his way out.

"Good morning," He said cheerfully, setting a vial of blood down on a metal tray.

I sat down in the chair, and held my right arm out for him.

"Are you feeling okay, Stan?" The otter said, looking me up and down, "You look sick."

"Hungover, actually." I told him, closing my eyes momentarily.

"You should really think about drinking less," He tutted, "I'll give you an IV and some ibuprofen. That should take the edge off it."

"I know, it's just that things have been rough for me lately." I said, watching Dr. Rivera as he drew my blood.

"You know," He said removing the needle from my arm, "If you need someone to talk to, I can refer you to a therapist."

"I don't think there's anything a therapist could do," I sighed.

The otter gave me two pills and a small bottle of water, and directed me to another chair in the corner of the office with an IV stand next to it.

"Well if you change your mind, let me know. Talking about things helps more than you think." He said, leaving me to my thoughts while the IV dripped.

I walked out of the clinic after twenty or so minutes, and headed back to the locker room to change into my workout clothes. The locker room was empty by the time I got there, so I assumed everyone must have already made their way into the gym. Throwing on some shorts and a tank top, I hurried over to the work-out room. The Castle had a very well equipped gym, and provided the models adequate time in the mornings to work out in it (since client hours didn't begin until noon). The gym was bustling when I went in, with people busy working out on the various different machines and weight sets. I stood at the door for a moment, looking around the room for Ricky. I quickly spotted the cheetah riding a stationary bicycle and headed his way.

"Hey, Spots!" I put on my winning smile and waved as I climbed onto the bike next to his. He didn't like when I called him Spots, but I often called him that just to tease him.

"How's it going, Stan?" He greeted me, "How was your night?"

I started peddling my bike, pressing the quick start button on the console.

"It was alright," I said, trying to sound cheerful, "My mom is feeling a little bit sicker, but she's going to the doctor this afternoon."

"Well I hope she feels better soon," He replied, "I know it's been hard on you."

"It has," I said after a moment, thinking about what Dr. Rivera said, "But talking to you always makes me feel better."

Ricky smiled and turned his head away shyly, pretending to look at something on the other side of the gym.

"I'm glad I can help." He purred.

"How's your art going?" I asked him after turning the resistance on my bike up a few notches.

"Really well," He said excitedly, "I've been working on something for a private buyer. if everything goes well, I might have the chance to sell to her wealthy friends too."

"That's awesome, Ricky!" I said, patting him on the shoulder, "I'm glad things are starting to come together."

We sat in silence for a while after that, just peddling away.

"So, do you have any bad clients today?" I asked him, trying to make conversation.

Ricky's ears went flat and his shoulders drooped a little, "No--not Charles at least. What about you?"

I thought about the schedule that Mary had given me earlier in the morning, "Uh, not really," I said, trying to recall the names, "No one too bad. My first client is a new one, so you never know."

"Well I hope he's not a creep." he said, cheering up a little.

I felt guilty for making Ricky sad, so I let our conversation lull for a few minutes. There was something I'd been wanting to ask him for a very long time, but I hadn't the courage to broach the subject until just then. I'm not sure why that moment was special, but sometimes these things happen spontaneously.

"Ricky...Why do you work here?" I asked him softly, "I know you don't like doing this. Why don't you just quit and focus on your art?"

The cheetah said nothing for so long, that I was unsure if he'd heard me. I didn't have the guts to repeat my question, and I was about to let it go when he answered.

"Debt." He sighed, "I lost my job, then I lost my house. I got hired here after I did a few pornos."

"I'm sorry," I told him, "I wish there was something I could do to help you."

"I've been here long enough to pay off most of my debt, but thank you Stan." Ricky said warmly, "You're really sweet."

I got Ricky to come lift weights with me after we finished on the stationary bikes. Part of his appeal was his small frame though, so he only lifted enough weight to keep him toned. I, on the other hand, needed to maintain my rippling muscles. Ricky seemed to derive an immense amount of pleasure from watching me lift, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't try extra hard to impress him.

"I wish I could be a good gym partner like Marcus is to Tommy." Ricky said, watching the wolf and bear as they gave each other high-fives at the end of a set, "They'd be a hot couple."

I laughed when he said that, almost dropping my weights, but I managed to set them down safely, "Marcus isn't even gay, you know that."

"I know, but just look at them," he said, giving the two a sidelong glance. I looked over discreetly to see Marcus slapping Tommy on the ass.

"You scamp!" I heard the bear yell out in that country drawl of his.

"Hm. Yeah, well there's definitely...something." I said slowly.

We finished up our workouts and headed back to the locker room to shower and prepare for our sessions. It was only half an hour until noon, which was when I was scheduled to meet my first client. Clients will often make specific requests for costumes or session themes, and I'm responsible for making sure I honor any requests as best I can. I took a seat on the bench next to my locker and took out my schedule:

12:00: Jeremy Mason, 38, coyote

Requests dominant feline. No costume requests. New Client.

Since I didn't have to put on a costume, I threw on a flattering pair of briefs and spent the rest of my prep time brushing my fur. After I was sufficiently satisfied with my appearance, I went and had a seat in the staging room to wait for Kelly to give me the signal. The staging room is more or less the same thing as the waiting room in the average doctor's office, complete with the padded chairs and stacks of old magazines. When I walked into the staging room, instead of seeing sick people, I saw a black wolf dressed in a police stripper outfit, and reading a cooking magazine.

"Sup bro?" Marcus said, looking up from his magazine.

"About to service a first time client." I said, taking a seat opposite him.

"Nice, I've got a regular of mine. Cute little ferret." He said, flipping page.

"Male or female?" I asked, folding my paws in my lap.

"Huh? Oh, he's a guy." He replied, "Loves me, though. He's here at least once a month."

Kelly's screechy voice came over the intercom at that moment: "Marcus, Room 4."

"Well, see you later." Marcus said as he left the room.

A few minutes later: "Stan, Room 2."

I passed Tommy (who was wearing nothing but a sea captain's hat) as I left the staging room and walked into the lobby. Doing my best to ignore Kelly, I went straight through the black door and into the session room hallway. With my paw on the knob of Room 2, I took a deep breath and opened the door.

The client, Mr. Mason, was sitting nude on the edge of the bed as I walked in.

"Hey there." He called out as I shut the door behind me.

"Hey there cutie." I said walking up to him, "Eager, I see."

"Why waste time?" He said with a grin, spreading his legs out.

I pressed my paw into the coyote's chest, pushing him down onto his back.

He laughed as he fell onto his back, sounding both excited and nervous.

"I'm told it's your first time here." I said gruffly, rubbing his dick with my paw.

He gasped a little as grabbed him, and his body shivered slightly.

"Yes it is, and I'm loving it so far." The wiry coyote said with a huge smile, "I really have a thing for tigers."

"Oh, well it only gets better from here baby." I said, kneeling down to suck his dick.

He moaned deeply as I took him in my mouth, thrusting his hips a little as I did so.

His moans turned into whimpers after a few minutes, and I stopped blowing him for fear that he would cum too soon into our session.

"Oh, please don't stop." He said breathlessly as I pulled away.

"We haven't even started yet." I said with a devilish grin, pulling my briefs off.

"Hell yes." He said, tail thrashing side to side, "Give it to me."

I reached under the bed and pulled out one of the small bottles of lube that were stashed there.

I put some of it in my paw and rubbed it on myself, getting myself hard. I don't find coyotes particularly appealing, and he was a few years older than I generally like, so I thought about Ricky to get myself going. It didn't take very long to get hard after that, and I rubbed some lube under the coyote's tail when I was ready.

I pulled him toward me by the hips, and pushed his knees up to his chest.

"You're gonna love this." I growled lowly.

Rubbing the tip of my cock on his tail hole, I pushed myself into him slowly.

He yelped painfully as I penetrated him, prompting m to rub his chest with my other paw in an effort to relax him. After a few moments, I could feel him loosen up as he let me inside him. I took it slow, easing him into it carefully, and soon enough I was all the way in. I bent forward to press my muzzle into his neck, exhaling warm breath into his course brown fur. I felt his body shudder underneath me, and moved my hips faster in response.

"I'm close." The coyote gasped in my ear after a few minutes.

I closed my jaw around his neck lightly, using just enough pressure to get my teeth to press against his skin. I could tell he was cumming from the whimpering noise he made, and I growled menacingly as he did, my teeth still against his exposed throat.

"Oh, my." he said, catching his breath.

I let him go and straightened back up to look down at coyote's chest, where I could see he came heavily.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." I said with a smile, pulling myself slowly out of him.

leaving him on the bed, I crossed the room to grab the box of tissues that sat on a small table. I used a few to dry myself off, and I brought the rest over to the client.

"That was really fun." He said as he dabbed his chest fur. "How much time do I have left?"

I looked at the clock that sat on the table where the tissue were, "About twenty minutes." I replied.

"Is it okay if we just talk until my time is up?" He asked hopefully.

"Of course we can, it's your time." I told him, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

"Sweet, what's your name?" He asked as he tossed the dirty tissues into the trash can beside the bed.

"I'm Jack." I said, giving him my stage name.

He set the box of tissues down on the floor and scooted up to lean against the bed's headboard.

"Awesome, I'm Jeremy." he said, patting the bed next to him with his paw.

I moved myself to sit where he'd indicated and put my arm around him, pulling him against me.

"It's nice to meet you Jeremy." I said cheerfully. "Will you be coming back to see me?"

"Next time I'm in town, definitely." he replied, "I'm only here for a couple weeks on a business trip."

"Very cool. What do you do, if I may ask?"

He seemed to consider whether he should tell me or not, but eventually decided to. "I work at Full Moon Studios--casting."

"It sounds interest--what?" I was surprised, and pulled away to look him in the eyes, "You guys make 'Killer', don't you?"

"Indeed we do, my friend." He said with a wide coyote grin, "Why, are you a fan?"

"It's my favorite show!" I exclaimed, eyes wide with excitement, "Do you know Jeffrey Gable?"

Jeffrey Gable is an unbelievably sexy lion who plays the lead on "Killer", a primetime crime drama that I love. His character, Detective Aaron Walters, is a badass anti-hero who bends the rules to bring criminals down. It's not the most original concept I guess, but it's well written and wins all kinds of awards.

"Of course I know him, I'm the one that hired him for the role." Jeremy said with barely restrained pride.

"I'm so jealous." I said in awe, "I'd give anything to meet him."

"He's a cool lion," he said thoughtfully, "Very down to earth. Straight as a razor, unfortunately."

"We can't have 'em all I guess." I replied gravely.

"Isn't that the truth," Jeremy agreed, "So tell me about yourself handsome, what would you do if you didn't work in a brothel--not that there'a anything wrong with that."

I looked at the clock and saw that we still had a few minutes left, "Well before I worked here I was in an acting company, we did plays and musicals downtown."

"Hm, so what happened? Weren't you any good?" He asked bluntly.

"It's nothing like that." I said with a little indignation, "We actually got some rave reviews. One of family members got sick, and I had to find a better paying job so I could help out."

"Ah, I'm very sorry to hear that." Jeremy said, his ears laid down against his head, "Although..."

He jumped off the bed and picked his jeans up from the floor, pulling his wallet out. He pulled a business card from his wallet and reached out to hand it to me.

"What's this?" I asked, taking the card from him.

"My business card, Jack." He smiled, "Give me a call in a week or so, and maybe we can set up an audition."

"You're joking." I said, my jaw dropping.

"It depends on how well you do, obviously, but maybe I can get you something. There are a lot of new projects starting up, and knowing a casting director should give you a leg up." Jeremy said with a wink.

The rest of the day seemed to fly by with lightning speed, the audition being the only thing I could think about. My last session came and went, and before I knew it I was walking out of the locker room and into the parking lot. I was sitting in my car before realized that I hadn't checked my phone all day. I pulled it out of my backpack to see that I had some messages from Vitaliya, making me feel immediately guilty for not checking sooner.

Took mom to the doctor, he says she's really sick. Can u get out of work early?

Dr. Kits admitted mom to the hospital.

Call as soon as u can

Paws trembling with worry, I called Vitaliya and waited anxiously for her to pick up.

"Stan!" She answered, "Mom is in the hospital. She's stable now, but the doctors are worried."

"I'm so sorry I didn't see your messages earlier, Vitaliya." I said, trying to keep my voice calm, "I'm going to be there very soon, okay?"

"Please hurry, Stan." My sister said, her voice wavering, "We'll be in ICU."

"I'm on the way, alright?" I hung up the phone and started up the car, speeding out of the parking lot. Traffic was light on the freeway, and I soon found myself pulling into the visitor parking lot of Antelope's Memorial Hospital. The building loomed large over me as I ran toward the entrance, a cold white light emanating from its many windows. The automatic doors whirred open as I approached, and I strode quickly to the front desk.

"How can I help you, Sir?" A male bear in hospital scrubs greeted me at the counter.

"It's my mom she's--ICU." I stammered back.

"Okay Sir, what's your mother's name?." The receptionist asked patiently.

"She's--It's Natalia Tatarov."

"Okay, Just a moment." He said, looking at his computer, "Alright she's in Room 34."

The bear got to his feet and pointed down the hallway to the right of the desk, "Head down that hallway, and It'll be on the right."

Without another word, I hurried off down the hallway, passing throngs of visitors and hospital staff as I found my way to Mom's room. Finding the room, I turned the handle and went inside to find Vitaliya, and Dr. Kits standing around my mother's hospital bed.

"Stan!" Vitaliya cried as she wrapped her arms around me.

"What's going on?" I said, returning her hug.

"Doctor Kits is here." Vitaliya said, releasing me.

I looked over to see the little fennec fox checking some papers on a clipboard.

"I'm afraid your mother's cancer has metastasized to her lungs." He said, looking up at me.

"But you can treat it, can't you?"

"We're doing everything we can, but I'm sorry to say her condition is worsening."

I turned and looked down at Mom's sleeping form, feeling a wave of sadness wash over me.

"Alright then, Doc." I said, sitting down in the chair by Mom's bed.

"I"m on the way out for the night, but Doctor James will be filling in for me until tomorrow." The fox said, placing a hand on my shoulder before leaving the room. As the door clicked closed behind Dr. Kits, Vitaliya came to stand next to me.

"She hasn't been this sick before," She said softly.

"I know, Vi." I said wearily, "Will she--do you think she'll get better?"

"I don't know. Doctor Kits was really worried."

I sat in that chair for hours while Vitaliya paced back and forth, leaving periodically to bring me food or coffee. Nurses came in every so often to check on Mom, and to kind words to us.

I must have dozed off at some point, but I could feel Vitaliya's paw shaking my shoulder.

"Stan, wake up." I heard her say urgently, "Mom's awake."

A surge of adrenaline pushed away the remaining drowsiness, and I looked up to see mom looking wearily at me.

"Stanislav." She said unsteadily.

"We're here, Mom." I got to my feet and grabbed her paw, squeezing it gently.

"I love you both. You need to look out for each other, okay?"

"We love you too, Mom." Vitaliya said softly.

"You'll be okay, Mom." I said, my voice cracking, "You need to rest, though."

"You've both sacrificed so much for me. It makes me so happy to know I have good children like you." Mom smiled at us, "I'm going to sleep now."

"Okay, Mom." I said, as tears rolled down my muzzle, "Sleep well."

Mom passed away in her sleep a few hours later. The days after her death all seemed to run together for me. Mary had allowed me to take a week off from work to attend to Mom's funeral, and to take care of her affairs. Mom's funeral was small, with only few family members flying in to attend. Much of my family struggled financially, and most of them couldn't afford to travel, though they did call to offer their condolences. Vitaliya decided to fly back with our cousin Mark, to stay with him until she could start college in the spring. I tried to convince her not to go, but she insisted that I take some time to collect myself without worrying about caring for her. I guess she didn't realize that part of the reason I wanted her to stay was because I thought that I shouldn't be left alone.

The day after the funeral was spent entirely in my apartment drinking liquor, trying to suppress the confusing mixture of grief and guilty relief that I felt.

I heard my phone ring sometime in the late afternoon, but I ignored it, taking a large swig of vodka in lieu of answering. An hour or so later, I awoke to the sound of someone pounding on my door.

"Go away!" I yelled angrily.

"Stan! It's Ricky, open up!" I heard a familiar voice call through my door.

I got to my feet hurriedly, stumbling on the way to the door. I threw it open to see a cheetah in a track suit holding a large brown bag with two paws.

"Can I come in?" He asked, looking into my apartment over my shoulder.

I stood aside and waved him in, "How did you find out where I live?"

He stepped past me and looked around the dim apartment curiously, "I got Kelly to give it to me from your work file. You weren't answering your phone, and I was really worried about you."

"Oh, that was you huh?" I said, feeling a small twinge of guilt.

"Yeah, everyone was worried actually."

"What have you got there?" I said, looking down at the bag he was holding.

"I brought Chinese for you." He said cheerily, "Well, us I guess. I got some for me too."

I didn't notice how hungry I was until I smelled the food the Ricky brought. I guess I hadn't really been eating anything other than alcohol.

I sat across my small dining room table from Ricky, who was doing his best to make me feel better. After forcing me to finish all the food he brought me, Ricky took away my liquor and insisted I drink water to sober up.

Truth be told, I was very happy to have him there taking care of me. I might have drank myself to death otherwise, and it was better for me not to be left alone.

A few hours (and a cup of coffee) later, I was more or less sober. Since I didn't have anywhere in my living room for more than one person at a time to sit, Ricky and I cuddled up under a large blanket on the floor in front of my TV.

"I'm really glad you're here." I said to him as the credits to a movie we'd been watching rolled down the screen.

"Me too." he said, giving me a playful kiss on the cheek, "Listen, Stan. I'm really sorry about your mother.

"Thank you, Ricky." I said softly, "She was sick for too long. I think she deserved to rest."

I took a really deep breath, letting it out slowly as I formulated what I wanted to say.

"Ricky, there's something I want to tell you." I moved away from him a little so I could look him in the eyes.

"What is it, Stan?" He asked, a shadow of concern covering his face.

I reached around under the blanket and grabbed both his paws in mine, "We've known each other for a while now," I said with some apprehension, "And I don't know how else to tell you this, but well, I think that maybe--oof!" Ricky interrupted my admittedly clumsy proclamation of my love with a kiss on the lips.

Pulling away, he placed a paw on either side of my head and looked me in the eyes, "I've been waiting so long for you to tell me, Stan." He said with a laugh, "I thought I was going to have to make the first move."

I pulled him close and kissed him again, feeling a warm joy working to push away some of the grief that had settled over my heart.

Ricky asked if he could keep me company overnight, a proposition to which I readily agreed. Cuddling up under the covers on my bed, in my dark bedroom, I held the small cheetah tightly against me and enjoyed the feeling of his warm body against mine.

"I know it's your day off and everything," I heard Ricky whisper to me, "But I don't suppose you'd mind working a little over time?"

I laughed and tickled his side with my paw, holding him while he giggled and tried to struggle away.

"Aren't you more expensive than me anyway?" I asked jokingly.

Ricky managed to break free, pushing me over onto my back as he did. I felt eager paws pulling my boxers off, and then Ricky's warm tongue as he licked my cock. I rubbed the top of his head with my paw, running my claws through the fur between his small rounded ears.

Ricky and I occasionally had group sessions with clients, but we'd never actually had sex with each other. Needless to say, it was a different experience when the sex was driven by passion. The feelings I had for him made the sex so much more than just a physical act. Pushing him off me gently, I sat up and pulled him up onto my chest so I could take him in my mouth. Hearing his moans gave me a deep satisfaction that I hadn't felt in a very long time. My excitement soon got the better of me, and I picked Ricky up to place him on his back.

"Hold on a sec." I said, leaning down to give him a quick kiss. Reaching over to the night stand, I opened the drawer and pulled out the bottle of lube I kept inside. Applying it to myself and to Ricky, I pushed his feet up over my shoulders and guided myself under his tail.

"I have to say, Spots, I've wanted to do this for a very long time."

I heard him inhale sharply as I pushed into him, and I felt his claws pressing into my biceps while he squeezed his paws around them.

I bent forward to kiss him passionately while I thrusted in deeply, moving my paw between us to stroke him as I did so. Soon enough, a growl resonated in his throat as he came into my paw.

"Oh, Stan." He mumbled as I bit his ear, working myself to orgasm. Feeling the pleasure building up in my body, I wrapped my arms around him and let it flow out of me.

I collapsed on top of him, reveling in out mutual pleasure. As I lay there, holding my cheetah close, I suddenly found myself overcome with emotion. Tears rolled down my muzzle and onto Ricky's cheek, and I couldn't keep myself from sniffling.

"Stan! What's wrong?" Ricky asked confused.

"It's nothing bad." I said, pulling myself up so that I could see his eyes, "It's--I'm really happy."

"Oh, well so am I. You had me worried that sex with me was so bad that it made you cry." He said, chuckling as he wiped the tears from beneath my eyes.

"I never thought I be so happy after being so sad." I said laughing and crying at the same time, "I love you, Spots."

"I love you too, Stan." He said, his eyes shining with joy, "And I'm not even mad at you for calling me Spots anymore."

Ricky got up early the next morning and went back to his place to get ready for work. I begged him to stay with me, but he promised to come back after work and I was grudgingly forced to let him go. I spent the morning cleaning up my apartment, getting it back to a semi-presentable state. I was emptying the pockets of my jeans so I could throw them in the washer, when I pulled a crumpled business card from one of the pockets.

With everything that had happened in the last few days, I'd almost forgotten about the audition offered to me by the casting director Jeremy Mason. I got my phone and entered the number listed on the card, hitting dial with excitement.

"Jeremy here." I heard the coyote's voice answer.

"Hey there Jeremy," I replied, "It's Jack, the tiger from The Castle--we uh..."

"Oh hey there buddy, it's good to hear from you." He said quickly, "Look, I'm really busy--wait, are you free today?"

"Yes, I've got the day off." I said, turning his card over in my paw.

"Hold on." He said, and I heard him yell at someone on his side, "Tell him he blew it, now get outta here!"

I held the phone away from my ear a little when I heard his voice again,

"Sorry about that, but it might just be your lucky day kid. I'll text you an address, get over here as soon as you can. Be ready to impress me."

I heard the line click after he finished. I put my phone down on the floor beside me, and I just sat there for a while laughing.

I guess fortune comes and goes like the tides, bringing misery, joy, sadness, and love in and out with it. With Ricky by my side, and a chance to leave The Castle behind us revealing itself, I felt that I finally had the strength to stand against the waves as they crashed over me.