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A Taste of the Wild

Neon lights shone through the double-glazed hotel windows, adding a vibrant life to the otherwise dark and desolate room. I don't know why hotels insist on keeping their suites bleak and colorless, as if to defy the metropolis' gaudy shades of green and blue and burgundy and yellow so harsh it burns your retinas. I guess for some city-dwellers it would be a nice, safe retreat from the offensive noises and smells of the city, but not for me. I already had that peaceful sanctuary back home. I came to the city for the violent assault on your senses, the smoke so thick you can taste it, the lights blinking at epileptic speed, and the constant noise that leaves your ears ringing.

I stood naked by the window, letting the eddies from the updraft caress my skin. Far below, I could hear the honking and bleeping and cursing of the teeming streets, and far above I heard the bass groaning of a jet engine. The neon lights washed across my body, painting me like a peacock as imagined by Picasso. I took a deep breath, the recirculated and reprocessed hotel air mixing with the stagnantly heavy city smog, producing a tonic more toxic than any cigarette.

Behind me, I heard a card fumble in the magnetic lock on the door. Its owner tugged at the doorknob. Still locked. I heard the card wiggle in its slot once more, then the satisfying click of the bolt sliding back, and the door opening. I didn't turn around. Claws dragged on the worn carpet, snagging every few hesitant steps.

"Jacob?"

I took another deep breath, then turned around. I leaned back against the half-open window, staying in the chaotic medley of reflected neon advertisements. "Right. That means you're 'Zimmer'." I'm a good speaker, and a better actor. I knew that he'd hear the quotation marks. We both knew it wasn't his real name, any more than "Jacob" was mine.

"So..." He started uncertainly.

I looked at Zimmer frankly, letting my eyes linger on his body. Immaculately combed red fur disappeared under a black suit, white shirt, and what must pass as a "colorful" tie. A real businessman, I thought, about as far from a "fox" as you can get while still claiming to be the species. Try as I might, I couldn't imagine this prim and proper corporate drone scampering around the woods like the foxes I knew back home. They were wily and clever, carefree and fickle as a summer breeze (and about twice as difficult to catch.)

Instead this fox, carrying his briefcase that smelled of cigar smoke, was the city embodied. His red fur was bright and lustrous, shining with an unnatural sheen that could only come from high quality fur care products. His snout was flawless, and his eyes had the second reflective gleam of contact lenses. Even his whiskers were groomed, mathematically precise and controlled, with not a hint of the wild and crazy. Somewhere in my black, jaded heart, I pitied the fox. All of my instincts told me that he'd never even been to anything that could properly be called the wilds.

Well, I guess that's why the city called me here from my home, all the way by plane and train and taxi. I was "a taste of the raw and untamed," the advertisement read in its muted black and white print. Experience the thrill of the wilds from the comfort of your very own city. Yeah, wild and untamed, that was me all over. Not one of these city automatons ever knew what they were really getting into.

"You brought payment?" I asked, direct and to the point.

"Over the phone, they took my credit card."

"And they sent you a receipt?"

"Yeah." The fox held his briefcase in front of him, shielding himself from the embarrassment of paying for this escape from his urban prison. A limp scrap of paper dangled from his outstretched paw, and the garbled punch-script of a cheap printer wandered aimlessly across its front.

"Good. Leave it on the table, along with your briefcase."

The fox started towards the table, then paused for a moment. "Um, will he be here soon?"

I let my arms spread to the sides, leaning back against the window frame casually. "He who?" I played along. I'd heard it before, the confusion, the disappointment. This fox had lost his touch. He trusted his eyes too much, and his nose too little.

"Well, I thought I bought a... Well..."

"A taste of the wild, right?" I finished the thought for him. "Untamed. Nature in all its fury and passion, right?" The fox nodded as he placed his briefcase on top of the desk, knocking over the cheap complimentary coffee mug. He caught it with an off-handed motion, placing it next to his briefcase. I made a quick mental note to make sure I broke it later.

"And you think I don't fit the bill."

His eyes focused on me sharply, finally giving me the same appraising glance that I'd given him not a minute ago.

"You're it? But you're... You can't be."

"I can, and I am. What, you think I'm not capable of being the unbridled avatar of all things wild because I'm..." I trailed off, letting Zimmer finish the sentence for me. I saw him mouth the word, even though his politically correct corporate inbreeding wouldn't let him finish the thought out loud.

"Human."

I pushed myself away from the wall and walked towards the center of the room, the crazy painting of light across my skin fading until just the whitish-blue nimbus of diffuse city lights colored me. I knew I was about as good an example as you can get of human, but even fit and muscled, the fox still stood half a foot taller than me on his over-long legs. If I could get through that civilized veneer, he was probably stronger than I was as well. That's just how canids were built.

"So is that all you see, Zimmer? Just a human?" I walked towards him, and the fox held his arms in front of him, almost instinctively trying to ward me away.

"Well, that's what you are. What kind of hoax is this?"

"Is that what your eyes tell you?" I got close enough for him to smell, then when any normal person would have stopped, I kept walking. The fox stepped back for each step I took forward.

"Back off. I didn't pay for a human." Finally, I started to see little cracks in that hardened shell of a proper city lifestyle and proper city thinking. I kept walking towards him, and he kept stepping back until he ran out of hotel room to retreat across. He thumped against the magnolia-painted wall, planting his tail against it. I glanced down, watching his tail flick up between his legs. He had a pretty tail, the first feature of his that I would immediately say I approved of.

"Or what?" I took another step towards him, and his arm came forward in a wild swing. I caught his wrist, struggling for a moment. I was right, he was stronger than me, but that wouldn't matter in a moment. I knew how to fight, and he didn't.

"Stop! This isn't what I paid for!" He cried, a hint of panic seeping into his voice.

"Oh, no, Zimmer, this is exactly what you paid for, what they flew me all the way out from the middle of nowhere for." I pushed against his elbow, and his arm finally levered back. I pinned his arm against the wall as I took one final step, so close that I could feel the scratchy touch of his polyester suit.

I must say, that out of all the pleasurable parts of these evenings in the city, this part was my favorite. Finally, a certain smell broke through the fox's panic, and the mild panic broke into bewildered confusion. For all my skin and sweat glands and hair and humanity, I knew that I didn't smell human. It wasn't just cologne or body wash, it was natural, just like every other part of me.

The fox let his arm go limp for a moment as his nose twitched. "Wolf?" Good fox, I thought. Right on the head. Somewhere far above us, hidden by the high tops of the buildings, and the glow of phosphorescent signs, and the glowing smog of the city, the moon was full.

I let the change steal over me gradually, slow enough that the fox could watch as it happened. Fur sprouted from my skin in a slow wave, turning my skin almost black. It itched slightly, but as soon as it passed being stubble, the itch disappeared. There was no pain, no sensation of things breaking or bending as my ankles lengthened, and my nose stretched forward into a graceful muzzle.

The fox's stunned muzzle began to drift slowly down towards me, not because he was bending, but because I was growing. In a few seconds, I was staring him eye-to-eye, my newly-grown snout bumping against his as he tilted his gaze to watch me. With the transformation's speed increasing, the fox's muzzle passed my own on its downward path, and just seconds later, in a twist of perspective, I was gazing down at him. His head pressed back against the wall in alarm, ears pinned to his skull, and I heard a soft whine split the air.

"Not wild enough, Zimmer? Not close enough to your nightmares and fantasies?" My legs lengthened, sliding my balance and center of gravity forward until the only comfortable standing position pushed my chest heavily into the fox's. He let out a strangled yelp, caught between a werewolf more than twice his mass and the unmoving and uncaring hotel wall. I'd seen the old movies, and for all their cheesy special effects and computer rendered fur patterns, they never quite got the natural, almost sensual feel as skin and flesh and bone rippled into new configurations.

I ducked as the change added the last few inches to my height, avoiding a knock with the ceiling. Zimmer was now gazing up at me with an opaque expression, his body shivering slightly. Knowing my role, I stepped back, letting him see all of the wild night he'd purchased. He slumped as soon as my weight lifted from his chest, and his breath was coming in little ragged gasps. I could see my outline reflected in his eyes, the bright city lights lighting the fringes of my fur from behind like a glowing aura.

Just like I was a fine specimen of human, I knew I was an exceptional werewolf. One led to the other, really. My fur was black from snout to tail tip, not that it mattered in this light. Zimmer could only see me in silhouette anyway. My shoulders were broad, and my back was arched a bit, giving just a hint of feral ancestry as I leaned forward on my arms. The change had given me powerful legs, meant for running and jumping and climbing, coiled like springs below me. Wind whipped through the room from the open windows, ruffling the fur of my newly sprouted tail playfully.

Against the wall, Zimmer's gaze finally started to clear, and he let out a thin whine, then a whimper. Good, he was ready. That was the right place to start.

I straightened a bit, keeping my head low to avoid the hotel's gaudy light fixtures, and grasped the fox around his middle. I pushed him back against the hotel wall with enough force to lift him from his feet. He struggled slightly as I leaned in, laying my muzzle alongside his as he squirmed in fear. "Now, now, Zimmer, you shouldn't have come straight from work. It's a shame to see that nice suit of yours ruined." Claws ran over the polyester, and he squirmed away from their touch, irrational fear still gripping his instincts. When I caught a seam, I pushed, then tugged, and the fabric parted beneath my fingers. The jacket of his suit ripped in lengthwise tatters, along with the thin cotton shirt he wore against his fur. I pulled carefully, my eyes watching intently as I bared more and more of the creamy white splash of fur down his front.

"Stop, please..." The fox whined again, kicking his legs a bit from where they hung suspended from the floor.

"You're not paying me to stop, Zimmer." I tugged again, and his suit and shirt finally came free, leaving just his tie hanging crookedly around his neck. Amused by it, I left it there. For the moment, it looked like nothing so much as a silk collar and leash.

I must admit, though, that I hadn't expected the fox to be in good physical shape. To my approval, he was. His white chest fur rippled over muscles that contracted as he shoved my hand. Even his belly was toned, with only a slight hint of healthy pudge. I lifted him further with the hand that was holding him against the wall, until his head was almost touching the ceiling.

"Oh, I am impressed, Zimmer. You take good care of yourself." I whispered, letting my breath stir his whiskers. He flinched as I rubbed my opposite hand over his belly. There was a pause, then he let out a whine that slowly turned into a moan. I'd done the scare, now it was time I made him want it.

The fox let out a long, shuddering breath, and his hands encircling my wrist stopped trying to push me away.

"Good fox. Very good. You're doing much better out of that stuffy suit." I pulled the last tatters of his ruined suit from the waist of his trousers and tossed it behind me towards the customary hotel bed. He squirmed again, and I squeezed around his middle. I let the paw on his belly lazily trace down, leaving little furrows in his fur where my claws dragged. They followed over the defined edges of his abs, then as they caught at the hem of his pants, they continued down, tugging at the fabric sharply.

The fox yipped in my grasp, and I gave him a bit of a feral smile, showing a mouth full of sharp teeth. I tugged again, and I felt a pop as the button of his fly snapped off. With the third tug, his zipper made a quick complaint as its teeth separated, and finally free, his trousers peeled away from his legs like an inferior second skin. The light from behind me was more than enough for my sensitive eyes, and I drank in the sight of the needy fox. His underwear was tented outwards, a stain of liquid spotting its front as his arousal blunted against the restraining fabric.

"What's this, Zimmer? Stop, you said?" I leaned in, breathing heavily against the fabric covering his crotch. The trapped flesh twitched, and the stain of liquid expanded down the cotton briefs.

Zimmer whined in my grasp, but the paws on my wrist disappeared. He was reaching down, his paws aiming for those sodden briefs. With a quick motion, I caught his arms, lifting them away from his crotch.

"Oh, no, no. Not so fast, Zimmer. You're going to stay just like that, until we're ready to move on." I was speaking directly to his crotch, my head ducked, hot breath wafting over the soaked fabric. He smelled strongly of fox, so strongly that it made my nose twitch. As he shot more and more pre into the soaked cotton of his underpants, the fabric began to take on a translucent tinge, giving me a good preview of what I'd find underneath. With both of my hands busy holding the fox still, all I had left was my mouth. I dipped my head in towards his creamy white fur and caught the elastic hem of his briefs in my canines. With a growl and one last tug, the hem snapped.

The fox gave a sharp yip as the fabric around his crotch finally relented. I could feel his body tense and contract as I rode the fine line of his hair trigger. I let him ride that plateau for just a moment longer, before I gave a second tug. The tear spread from the hem and traveled quickly down the wet front, and the fox's dark red shaft pushed outward as the wet fabric peeled from around his twitching sheath. Finally free to jump and pulse as my hot breath washed over its bare skin, the fox shuddered in my grasp. A hot arc of semen jetted from its round, tapered tip and caught the front of my muzzle. My tongue flipped out, catching the next spurt as the fox's cock throbbed.

I let Zimmer hang against the wall as he rode his first orgasm. I took the opportunity to let my eyes really see what and who had bought me for the night. Counter to first impressions, I was beginning to be subtly impressed. Corporate drone he may be, but he took good care of himself. His muscle tone was even all across his body, giving the impression of good shape and an active lifestyle away from his desk. His fur apart from his head lacked the unattractive glimmer of fur care products, and simply looked well groomed, though the suit hadn't done his hide any favors.

As he wriggled a bit, his whole body giving little rolling humps as his cock twitched spunk onto the carpet, he showed just a hint of the sly, playful nature that should have been his racial heritage. His tail flicked randomly between his legs. I couldn't help but reach out and stroke it, the rust-colored fur soft and smooth, straight down to the explosion of white where the tail terminated.

Slowly, careful not to let the vulpine's muscles catch or twist, I lowered Zimmer to the floor. His legs gave out underneath him, and I let him slide down to his knees. He sat motionless on the cheap carpet, breath ragged as he drank in gulps of recirculated hotel air. I sat back on my haunches, arms resting on my knees as I watched silent as a gargoyle, waiting for the customer to recover.

After long minutes of silence, broken only by Zimmer's rapidly calming breath, he finally stood. His eyes were still on me, watching me follow his gaze and fidgeting nervously. All of his city breeding had returned, and the cute and uninhibited fox I'd glimpsed just minutes ago had been hidden again behind his mask.

"Well, Jacob, that was fun. Should I call to-"

"We're not done, Zimmer." I growled at him. Stupid fox, if that was all it took to satisfy him. At my prices, I knew I had to have been worth at least a full paycheck of his. I'd seen quality cars that cost less than he was paying for tonight, and he was ready to walk away after just the foreplay? I could have walked out just then. It would have been an easy night, he went home satisfied, and I'd go home a bit richer. But as much as I longed to be out of the city, I couldn't leave it at just that. I had an image to uphold, and image was everything when your business was word of mouth.

And worse, beneath that annoying facade of city sensibilities, there was a fox that desperately wanted to have his wild adventures. It's why he'd called for me. It was the same fox I'd seen squirming so cutely in my hand not five minutes ago. No, the night wasn't over. Not if I had anything to say about it.

"Oh, well, what should I do now, then?" He paused, and it looked like he was attempting to cover himself, holding his hands over his sheath.

"Run."

"Err, sorry, say that again?" His ears were perked forward, as if he hadn't heard me the first time.

"I said run. Now."

He edged slowly away along the wall. Those ears flicked back again, and I saw the slow burn of understanding wind its way into his demeanor. "You mean I should just-"

I'd given him all the warning I planned to. I leapt from my crouch, catching his legs in an entangling grip. He yipped, and those legs thrashed powerfully. One foot caught my bicep, and the leverage yanked one leg from my arms. Quickly capitalizing on his newfound freedom, he tugged his other leg free and dashed away from me.

As I lifted myself to my feet, crouched over like a four-legged wolf and glaring at him ferally, comprehension finally turned control over to his survival instincts. He bolted for the door, and a quick twist and yank saw him fleeing into the hotel corridor, disappearing from sight before the hastily opened door slammed against the doorjamb.

I smiled. Good fox.

Nose to the ground, I loped off after him. Each of my steps took me two of his. Crouched over, I was almost as tall as he was standing. I emerged blinking into the over-bright and sanitized hallway. The smell of fox turned sharply to the left, so with nose to the rough carpet, I began to give chase.

I trailed him closely: down the corridor, then left. Into the small room with the ice machine, and I found a puddle where he'd tried to mask his smell. He was inexperienced; he didn't know that the water had to be running to carry away his scent. Back out to the hallway, and the trail disappeared into the elevator waiting room. His smell was everywhere: on the chairs, the wall, even over by the open window. I hoped he hadn't tried to go outside; he could get hurt like that. But each place I searched was wet, and it struck me. He'd doused himself with water from the ice machine, and was spreading his scent randomly to confuse me. He must have just shaken off here, and it'd won him a few scant seconds of confusion.

Surprise after surprise, this fox was forcing me to change my opinion of him constantly. He wasn't dumb, by any stretch. My muzzle pulled up into a smile, and for the first time in months of one-night-long "wild" hunts, I was really enjoying myself. My senses sharpened like the after-effects of the first whiff of bitch in heat of the spring, and my groin gave a little twist of longing. This fox was going to be a worthy catch, and I was truly looking forward to the denouement.

I flashed back out into the hallway, rebounding off of the far wall as I sprinted down the scent trail that led from the elevator room. The corridor split into a T, and the trail went both ways. I ran my hand over the fresh carpet backwards, using an old trick I'd learned early in my career. Recent paw prints stood out in the rug's grain. He'd gone right first, then returned and gone left. I sprinted off to the left, claws digging furrows in the carpet that'd cause the housekeeping staff to have a conniption. I could smell him, he was that close.

Then I turned a corner and skidded to a halt at a dead end. Nonplussed, I spun around. Nothing. No sign of the fox. I sniffed back, then the wide smile on my muzzle split into a giddy grin. He'd doubled back. There weren't any signs of it, but I knew with the surety of a seasoned hunter that I was right. While I was messing around in the elevator waiting room, he'd doubled back. Smart, tricky fox.

Thundering down the hallway at top speed, I crashed into the wall of the T intersection, letting the wall take the brunt of my forward momentum rather than slowing down. There, at the end of the hallway, was a flash of red tail as he turned the corner.

Got you, you sneaky git.

As soon as my feet touched the ground, I was off again. In the time it took to draw a single breath, I'd rounded the corner towards the room we'd started in, and I saw him sprinting away from me, eyes gazing in a panic over his shoulder. A single leap was all it took to catch his legs, and he went down heavily on the floor.

He let out another whine as my heavy paw landed in the small of his back, pinning him to the ground. "Got you, little fox." I breathed the words into his ear as I climbed slowly over his pinned form. "You're much better at this than you look." I meant it, too. I'd never been lead a chase like that by one of these spoiled city drones.

He clawed a bit at the carpet as I grabbed the root of his tail, tugging it up against my belly. "Almost got away." He crowed, and my claws ran slowly down his back. As he squirmed, I smelled his arousal again, this time so acutely that it was starting to get me worked up. Under my fingers, his fur was soft, and I longed to just hold him against my front, feeling that fur sliding over my own.

"Almost, but now, you're mine." I lifted him up with a hand under his chest. He growled at me and kicked, making a break for freedom, but I wasn't letting him go this time. I caught his arms, then just to be sure, I bit down around his neck. He gasped, entire body going rigid under me, then limp. I kept still for a moment, letting drool soak into the fur around his shoulders and ears from either side of my muzzle. I was careful not to crush, but his fur was soft and pliable under my tongue, my teeth pressing into his pelt firmly enough, just shy of drawing blood.

Finally sure that he'd obey, I lifted him bodily from the floor. Now dangling in my grip, I hugged him tight against my front. His feet bumped against my thighs, and his tail squirmed against my belly, until it found its way off to the side. My arms curled around him, hands rubbing over his silky fur. With a moan loud enough to echo hollowly about the empty corridor, Zimmer wrapped his hands up and around the back of my head, giving himself leverage to start wiggling and squirming against my body.

All mine, I thought, marveling at the feel of the fox's soft fur against mine. The hot little vulpine wriggling in my lap was so far removed from the stuffy businessman that had walked through my hotel room door half an hour ago that he was almost unrecognizable. Much to my surprise, this wasn't just a job anymore. Zimmer was cute out of that suit of his, and fit, and soft, and the way he squirmed...

I just couldn't help myself as he squirmed: I sat back into a crouch, using my thighs to pull his kicking legs apart. The motion pulled him back against my belly and sat his rust-colored rump squarely on top of my sheath. When he felt the fuzzy pouch nudge beneath his tail, his squirming took a whole new urgency. He was rolling his hips in small, eager circles, working the tip of my sheath back and forth between the cleft of his rump cheeks. His thighs clenched from where they were trapped behind mine.

In my canid form, everything around me seemed amplified. Colors were more colorful, smells (especially smells) were vibrant and sharp, even emotions and feelings felt like they were more real than when I wore skin. So when the fox ground himself back against me, the sensory overload of his smell, plus the feel of his soft fur against me, and the knowledge that this surprisingly hot little fox wanted me to take him, was just a bit too much for me to resist. I let out a feral growl, and I felt the sudden touch of flesh against flesh as my own arousal rose to the occasion. It was hot, and it was smooth, and it was wet, oh so wet. I'd probably been soaking the fox's ass in pre since I first caught him, but only now did I realize just how slick it was.

And it was only about to get better. There, in the hallway, beneath the over-bright fluorescent lights, and staining the immaculately clean rugs with our lust, I pulled the city fox down onto my shaft. With a pop that both of us felt more than heard, his pucker slid slickly over my cock tip, then clenched. Restrained in my arms, the fox gave a pained whine. I paused, training and experience telling me I should let him get used to my girth, but the fox was having none of that. He wriggled down in my grip, and that tight ring of muscle slid down my length as his tailhole rolled my sheath back. Finally beaten, I gave a muffled bark of my own around his neck. I lidded my eyes for a moment, caught in a moment of pure, unalloyed pleasure.

Finally, the fox stopped wiggling. He sat on my sheath, panting around his tongue. I could feel his pulse under my teeth, strong and quick, and it took a veritable feat of restraint to keep my jaw muscles from biting down, and my leg muscles from thrusting forward. Instead, I let his neck go. He was just too sexy, too fuckable, and too much of a fox to trust my teeth around his spine. My control was already slipping dangerously, and I didn't want to endanger him.

"Ready, Zimmer?" I asked softly into his ear, nipping it slightly as he rotated his rump on the invading shaft.

"Don't ask me, just do it." He pressed his back into my chest, and I felt his vertebrae rubbing against my ribs. Shivering with anticipation, I hugged around his front with one arm, holding him to me like an oversized plush doll. I leaned forward, until my other arm could swing forward, and I steadied myself on three limbs. Without any further warning, I stood.

Gravity and inertia did the rest of my work for me. As my legs straightened and my hips rolled forward, inch after inch of lupine cock slid from my sheath. Zimmer let out another long whine, punctuated by harsh yipping, as the entirety of my shaft slipped into his clenching rump. Below us, a pool of liquid had soaked into the carpet. I took a careful step forward. Just a few steps away, the door to our room stood wide open. Hugging Zimmer to my front, I padded carefully forward.

Meanwhile, the fox had wrapped his arms around my neck, holding on and trying to take some pressure off of his rump. Still, every step slid me back and forth in his tight tailhole. He clenched, drawing a stuttering breath, then relaxed, and I felt his pucker kiss my sheath.

Reaching the room, I bent forward to fit through the doorframe. Behind me, I slammed the door shut, blocking out the artificial day of the hotel's interior. Our room was bathed in the neon-tinged bluish haze of reflected city light. Everything was as we'd left it: a shredded suit by the bed, trousers clumped in a little puddle of fabric by the desk, and thin claw-marks marring the magnolia paint.

Trying to ignore the subtle friction of flesh around flesh, I took two steps to the side of the desk. Zimmer gave a muffled complaint as my footsteps jostled him against my sheath. When I finally stood in front of the desk, I released my grip around his midsection. Zimmer bent forward at the waist, and his forearms slapped the faux-wood surface of the shoddy table. He opened his mouth to give another complaint, but all that emerged was a shuddering whine under his shallow breath as I rolled my hips in a firm thrust. The time for speaking had long since passed.

The tight tunnel squeezed around my length in quick little spasms as I shifted, but gave a prolonged clench as I started to pull my hips back. I heard a soft, almost inaudible slurping sound as inches of my cock slid free of his rump. I moved slowly to begin with, letting Zimmer feel every ridge and bump and vein of my shaft as his sphincter clamped down around it. Then, when the cupped taper at the tip of my cock slipped free of his hot little hole, I thrust.

Zimmer was pushed forward across the desk, until his hips met its rim. His arms slid, pushing everything in front of him to the floor. His briefcase knocked hollowly against the carpet, the complimentary pen and packets of coffee landing on the floor next to it. The fox rewarded me with a growling moan, and the velvety tunnel squeezed.

Our growls and moans resonated in the room, bouncing strangely off of the thin plaster walls. He squirmed and writhed, the cock buried in his hind end forcing him to keep his legs bent. I held the desk as I bent over him, hips pounding away at his russet-furred flanks. His arm shot out, keeping balance on the wobbling tabletop, and my next thrust forced him to send the complimentary coffee mug careening off, shattering against the wall in front of him. The desk wobbled uncertainly, its joints rocking apart.

I reached down and grabbed him, just as the desk finally collapsed forward with the crackle of cheap press-board and wood glue. He relaxed, leaning against my front, as both of us looked down at the ruined furniture bemusedly.

"Is this place, you know..."

"Yeah, the company insures it." I responded, before he could finish the thought. It was only after I answered that I realized the fox's gambit. In a moment of inattention, I'd dropped the act. I'd lost the character. Shit.

Zimmer's city life must have included some intense training in people skills, because almost immediately after I realized my mistake, he spurred into action. He wrapped his arms over my neck again, and with a deft rolling of his hips, he pulled himself completely off of my rigid length. I figured I'd given him his taste as planned, and there was still a bit of the night left. He staggered off towards the bed, but before he reached its cushioned mattress to support his battered knees, he bent and put his hands to the ground. The fox crawled forward a few feet on all fours, then looked back at me over his shoulder. "Please?" He begged, "It's my favorite..."

Peering at that vulnerable fox, gazing up at me with longing and need, I realized that I was smitten. Maybe not completely, my rational mind butted in, it was just physical. But it was there, nonetheless. I wanted to fuck him, oh yes, a certain part of my body reminded me of that, but afterwards, I wanted to wrap him up in my arms and steal him away to the wild hills of my home and chase every hint of city from his gorgeous body. Maybe we'd even come back to the city to visit, and we'd tear up hotels and bars and night clubs. There'd be a picture of us beneath the front desk, letting the attendants know to keep us away...

While my mind had been wandering, my body had taken over. I was crouched again, arms forward and knuckles touching the floor. Shaking my head of the idyllic visions, I caught myself loping towards Zimmer, drooling slightly at the strong smell of male fox. My conscious mind returned as I tugged at his hips, crouching over him with my neck bent down to catch the ruff of his neck tightly between my jaws. That gorgeous tail of his brushed softly over my dripping shaft, and I gave an involuntary jerk of my hips. That tease, I'd teach him to-

It had taken a few seconds for the pressure around the tip of my shaft to register to my conscious mind. When it did, it was all I could do to keep myself from biting down as my hips jerked forward. That tight ring of muscle enveloped my shaft as Zimmer lifted his hips to my crotch, his tail wagging against my lower belly. The fox whined, and he clenched down in a single, rigid shiver. A new scent hit my nose, slightly bitter with a faint hint of chlorine. That was familiar enough: the fox was cumming again. Professionally, I knew I should stop and let him enjoy his orgasm. He'd paid for the night, so the time was his, not mine.

But I couldn't stop myself. My hips moved with a mind of their own, ignoring the feeble impulses that my rational and logical mind sent them. I pushed down on Zimmer's back, pinning his chest to the floor as I tugged back and thrust deep, bottoming out in his tight rump. I rolled my hips, pulling back out, then thrusting again. Then a third time. And on the fourth, as my sheath kissed his pucker, my entire body gave a familiar shiver, as the fox's hot ass pushed me over the edge of my own orgasm.

I rewarded Zimmer with a last piece of "The Wild" as I shuddered and twitched over his rump. Caught in the moment, I lifted my head to the ceiling and howled. It started high, then slowly dropped in pitch as the velvety tunnel around my shaft went silky with semen. The howl bounced off of the hollow hotel walls and rang melodically with the faint susurration of traffic passing twenty stories below. Slowly, as my orgasm faded into a tingling afterglow, my howl faded into a cough, and I collapsed next to the fox.

We both lay there, I don't know how long. Long enough that I counted three passenger jets thunder past overhead. If I were a resident of the city, I might be able to set my watch by them (if I wanted my watch to run half an hour slow, that is). As my arousal slipped and faded, leaving both of us covered in sticky juices, Zimmer turned and snuggled into my side. I wrapped my arm around his back, holding the fox close, and for the first time in my many trips to the city, I found myself not just happy, but fulfilled.

Minutes passed, then hours. I think somewhere in that time, Zimmer fell asleep. His careful city manicure had been ruined. I couldn't see even a glimmer in his head fur, and most of his beautiful pelt was matted, soaked, and sticky. I could count the night a success.

Unlike Zimmer, though, I couldn't sleep, not while the full moon rode the sky. As content as I was with the fox at my side, my bladder was telling me that I should probably attend to business soon. With some regret, I fished my arm out from under the fox, then shook it as pins and needles crept up my fingers. I gave the fox a glance as I stumbled to the bathroom, and what I saw dragged a smile to my muzzle. Without me, he'd curled up, nose buried in his tail.

I closed the door to the bathroom behind me, though it occurred to me that it was a bit of a meaningless gesture. Still, as little as I cared about propriety, most city types were sticklers for privacy.

Just as I aimed my sheath towards the receptacle, I heard a monotone bleep from just outside the bathroom door. It was my business phone, and I had three more rings before I missed the call. Typical.

I grimaced as I squeezed, wincing at the slight burn as I manually stopped my business mid-stream. With a tight grip, I danced to the bathroom door, cracked it open just wide enough to fumble for my coat, and dragged the miniature cell phone from its pocket. On the third ring, I managed to fumble it open, and finally resumed my previous business as I put the phone to my ear.

"Sorry to be rude, Loraine, but you caught me in the bathroom. What's the emergency?" I tried to keep my voice down, but it's hard not to sound like you're shouting in those echoing, tile-encrusted bathrooms so endemic to inner city hotels.

"I just got a call from Zimmer. He's asked why you needed to postpone, and if it'd be the same hotel."

My ears rang a bit as I finished urinating, but my wandering attention snapped to crystal clarity on the phone. "Sorry, Loraine, say that again?"

"Zimmer asked why you postponed, and if it'd be the same hotel. What's going on, Jacob? It's not like you to call a customer directly. I thought you liked the whole mysterious approach." While she talked, my ears caught a gentle click from the room behind me. Crawling through the sluggish quagmire of post-orgasmic apathy, the "click" sounded like something going very, very wrong.

"Loraine, call you back." I closed the phone before I could hear her complaint, and stiff-legged it back into the main room.

The floor where Zimmer had been sleeping was bare, except for the stains we'd left behind. The fox was nowhere to be found.

"Ooohhh no. Fucking no." A cold feeling crept up my spine, and I kicked at the tumbled desk. It was somewhere here, it had to be.

I saw the thin, scrawling piece of receipt paper and snatched it up with shaking fingers. With the room too dark to read, I stumped over to the window and held it up to the faint city lights behind me. To my dismay, it was just a pharmacy receipt for over-the-counter muscle relaxants. On the flip side, in a jittery scrawl, someone had penned in, "Thanks for the fantastic night! XOXO -The Fox"

I crumpled the receipt as a faint growl built in my throat. That thieving son of a bitch. Red spotted my vision as I sprinted for the door.

I didn't bother unlocking the door. It shattered off of its hinges as I hit it at full speed. Without a doubt as to his destination, I barreled down the hallway to the elevator lounge. Just as I arrived, I heard the double-thump of the express elevator doors closing.

I pounded on the down arrow in fury. After I heard an alarming crack from the metal faceplate, I pulled my hand back, not willing to let my rage ruin my chances of catching him. I couldn't stand still, though. My legs ached with the need to run and jump and pursue and catch. It was an almost physical pain standing still, so instead I paced, back and forth across the elevator room, until the third door in a row of four gave a cheery "ding" and opened.

I jerked myself inside and pounded the big "G" at the bottom of the list of floors. With a sedate pace that seemed even slower through my rage-soaked senses, the doors crept closed. I growled and cursed, because I didn't even have enough room to pace anymore. I heard another "ding", and glancing at the indicator at the top, I saw we'd stopped at floor 17. The doors opened, and two margays in night clothes stood outside in a nigh-identical elevator lobby. I stared out at them, and they stared in at me. I saw two surprised hotel guests. They saw a hulking wolf, so large that I had to bend my head to avoid hitting it on the top of the elevator. It was only when the doors began to close again, the couple still outside, that I remembered that I was still naked, and that my crotch was matted and visibly sticky, and smelled like fox.

Luckily, that was the last stop before the ground level.

As the doors crept open, I reached between them and yanked. They shot to the sides with whirring of springs, and I dashed out into the blindingly bright lobby. Without a glance to either side, I sprinted to the front doors, aiming for the one that read "push to open." At my speed, I'd have gone straight through the revolving door without stopping, and most of the glass would have come with me. I exploded onto the street corner just in time to see nothing. I glanced left, and there was a car coming my direction, its high beams on. I glanced right, and I saw a bus speeding away from its stop a block and a half down.

And gazing back at me from the bus's rear window was a fox. I couldn't see below his shoulders, but I bet he'd grabbed his trousers on his dash from our room. As the bus accelerated away, I could swear the fox smiled back at me. His finger lifted and drew a heart in the dusty window. Then the bus hit the ramp to the freeway, and disappeared into the night.

I stood on the street in front of the hotel for minutes, somehow expecting the bus to come rolling back down with that fox. And when it got here, I'd pick him up, and I'd tear him limb from limb. Or maybe, instead, I'd kiss him. Or maybe I'd take him back up to the room and we'd spend the rest of the night, though I'm pretty sure I wasn't really considering sleep as an option.

While I stood there, a couple passed by on the street. I saw them staring at me, and didn't care. A car rolled past the hotel, and a mink girl of somewhere between 8 and 10 leaned out the window and took a picture of my crotch on her cell phone. Then a policeman came by. He said he was understanding, and that if I'd just put some god damn pants on, he'd look the other way, and we could all get on with our lives.

So just before I went back into the hotel, where my jeans and jacket were tucked away in a now-empty room, and where Loraine was probably still ringing, I raised my hand and gave the fox a lazy salute. Because foxes are wily and clever, carefree and fickle as a summer breeze (and about twice as difficult to catch). And if you ever catch one, you'd better hold tight, because you never know when your cell phone will ring, and when you look back, they'll be gone.