Summer Heat
Summer Heat
By the Muse of Caprice and Whimsy (mocaw.deviantart.com)
This story, the setting, all characters, and their distinctive likenesses are the property of the MoCaW and may not be used without prior consent. This story may be distributed freely as long as it is distributed in its entirety without editing, and with this disclaimer block intact. In other words: please give credit where it is due, it's the decent thing to do. Thanks.
*****
Fiona whimpered a little as I thrust into her, grunting with exertion. She mewed in pleasure as I came, her tail held high, her soft thighs shifting as my cock throbbed with sweet release. I took a moment to remove the condom and toss it into the trash, then lay down on the bed, sighing. She smiled and rested her head against my shoulder, cuddling close. "Was it good for you?" she purred.
"You're the best, hon," I murmured, nuzzling her cheek. She mewed happily at that and cuddled closer. I sighed inwardly. To tell the truth, I'd had lots better. . . in fact, to be completely honest, Fiona wasn't exactly the best I'd ever had.
All right, let's be blunt: she was a lousy fuck. Despite how sexy you might think cat-girls are, the sad reality was that Fiona really wasn't very good at all. Anyway, you try telling that to the girl you love, and see how many internal organs you come away with, okay?
It wasn't like she was inexperienced, either. We'd been going out for about three months, shortly after I'd gotten fired from the force over an incident involving a white slavery ring trafficking in furres, the mayor, and me punching the chief of police in the face. Since it looked like I was going to be out of work for a while until my new private investigation business got off the ground, Fiona invited me to come stay with her for a while in Clementine Hills (also known as Furville for its high furre population.) Imagine my surprise when, three nights later, she came into my room and started kissing me, at which point one thing let to another. We'd had sex a few more times since then, and, sad to say, each time was almost worse than the time before.
I idly wondered how much longer I could keep up this charade as I drifted off to sleep.
*****
Fiona was pacing back and forth as I walked into the kitchen the next morning. "Did you sleep well?" I asked, pouring myself a bowl of cereal.
"No, not really," she replied, scratching herself behind the ear. "I was all hot."
"It's cause the damn air conditioning's broken," I yawned. "I'll talk to Rob, maybe he can come up and take a look at it. At least there's air conditioning at work, right?"
"Don't work today, it's my day off," Fiona muttered distractedly.
I shrugged. "Oh. . . hm. Maybe you could go to the pool or something. . . or you could come with me to the office."
"I dun like swimming, remember? And your office is even hotter than here." She frowned. "Do we have any ice? I could really use a cold drink."
"Ice trays are broken too, remember? But I think we've got a box of popsicles in the freezer. Don't eat them all, or you'll spoil your appetite," I joked. "Oh, and I've got a couple of electric fans in my boxes. Let me unpack them for you before I go. I can bring a block of ice home, too. Put one in front of an electric fan, it'll help keep things cool."
"That would be good," Fiona replied, as she got a pineapple popsicle from the freezer. I shrugged, finished up my cereal, and dropped the bowl in the sink. By the time I left for work, she was sitting in my La-Z-Boy recliner with three fans pointed at her, working on her second popsicle: a grape one.
*****
"Hey there, Eighty-Eight!" Gianni shouted as I walked into the grocery store that he owned along with his brother Marlon. "What can I get for you today?"
"Just some popsicles, I guess. . . and some block ice. . . and some root beer. Air conditioning's out, and Fiona's been complaining about the heat all day. I dunno, I guess it's worse for her because she's got all the fur." I noticed Gianni and Marlon giving each other funny looks. "What is it?" I asked.
"Hasn't really been that hot recently," Gianni said thoughtfully, stroking his whiskers. He grinned at me wickedly. "Ever gone out with a furre before, Eighty-Eight?"
"Naw. It's been only humans for me up until now." Marlon and Gianni gave each other knowing looks, while somewhere else in the store, a dormouse snickered. "What the hell is so funny, anyway?"
"Nothing, nothing," Gianni replied, dropping a small paper bag into my groceries. "Here, on the house. You'll need it more than me."
I walked out of the grocery store completely confused. Even after all this time living in Clementine Hills, I still hadn't gotten used to being one of the few humans in a city full of furres. Moments like the one I'd just had in the grocery store drove home the fact that I was an outsider here.
Sometimes, I felt like everyone around me was in on a joke that I wasn't getting.
*****
"Hey there, I'm home!" I shouted as I walked back into the apartment. "Fiona?" I paused. . . then I heard a sound that sent chills up my spine: muffled whimpers, definitely Fiona's.
My mind raced. . . was Fiona in danger? My old "buddies" on the force, come to take their revenge for spoiling their fun? The mob, coming after me for breaking up their slave trade? Random home invasion robbers? Of course, if I'd taken half a moment to think about it, I'd have realized that all of those ideas were bullshit. Instead, I pulled a snub-nosed .38 from my waistband (keeping my finger off the trigger: I'm not that stupid), sidled up to the bedroom door, and kicked it open with a yell of, "FREEZE, DIRTBAGS!"
And froze.
Fiona looked up at me with a mixture of shock and dismay and embarassment: not too surprising, I guess, considering I'd just burst in on her yelling and waving a gun around while she was lying on the bed. Naked. With her face in the pillow. With a cherry popsicle "inside" her, leaking a thin stream of sticky red juice from her vulva down her thigh and onto the bedsheets.
By the time my hysterical laughter subsided, she'd tossed the frozen treat in the trash, put on a T-shirt and some shorts, and was sitting across from me, cheeks flushed bright red with embarassment, even through her orange-and-black striped fur. "It's not funny," she whimpered. "I was hot." This just brought on another wave of gut-busting laughter which left me gasping for breath. Meanwhile, Fiona just got more and more embarassed, then at some point her embarassment and shame turned to anger, and she knocked me flat on my back, pinning me to the ground by my shoulders. "Stop laughing!" she whined. "This is really embarassing!"
"I'm sorry," I giggled, wiping away a tear. "It's just that. . . you were so. . . cute. . . that's all. . ." I smiled affectionately up at my irate girlfriend. "I just never imagined that you had this side of you, I guess. You seem so prudish most of the time."
Her chin dipped down into her chest, and she looked up at me sheepishly. "You don't think I'm dirty? You're not. . . mad at me?"
That stopped my laughter cold. "Why would I be mad at you?" I asked, perplexed.
She sat up, straddling me, twiddling her fingers nervously. "It's just that. . . lately, in bed, you know. . . you don't seem as satisfied as you used to be. You seem kind of frustrated, you know. I thought maybe you were getting tired of me."
"Oh." There was an awkward silence. "Um, I'd be lying if I said I was totally happy," I said lamely. "But it's not a big deal, you know. It's just sex. Not like it's really important."
"But it is important. I want you to feel good." That was about when I realized she'd been slowly unbuttoning my shirt. She leaned down, licked my nipple with her rough, sandpaper-like tongue. "Is that so bad?"
I decided not to answer with words, but by reaching up and scratching her behind her left ear in her favorite spot. She crooned in ecstacy, arching her back and butting her head against my hand. "Oooooh. . . mmmm. . . a little lower . . . unhhhhh. . . that's the spot. . ." she purred.
"This is how I feel good," I whispered, slowly sliding her t-shirt up her body with my other hand. "When you feel good, I do too." She nodded mutely, still crooning with pleasure, as I slipped my hand under her shirt and began fondling her firm and perky, hand-ful sized breasts. Her tail flicked back and forth as she rubbed her groin against my thigh, rocking back and forth in time to my caresses. A thin dribble of juice leaked out of her daisy dukes and ran down her thigh. I suddenly got a flash of inspiration and stood up, smiling. "Wait here," I said, kissing her on the cheek.
Fiona flushed bright red and squealed with embarassment when I came back carrying the box of popsicles I'd bought earlier that day. "No fair!" she whined, throwing a pillow at my head. "That's just mean!"
"What was that? I thought you were hot!" I opened the box, pulled a slighly melted grape one out of its wrapper, and popped it into her mouth, silencing her protests. "Now why don't you cool down a bit as I take off your pants." I pushed her gently, and she rolled onto her side, kicking her legs up in the air, tail still swishing. She wasn't wearing panties, it turned out, and the crotch of her shorts was nearly soaked through with the soft musk of her love juices.
"Now, let me see. Where were you when I so rudely interrupted." I unwrapped an orange flavored one and ran it slowly down her stomach, leaving behind a trail of sweet, pale syrup on her soft white belly. "Was it here?" I brushed it against her clit, eliciting a shudder of pleasure and a soft moan. "No. . . that wasn't it. Here?" I let it slide down the outside of her vulva and down between her cheeks. "No, that's not it either. Oh yes. . ." I parted her labia with a fingertip. "Here." I slid the quiescently frozen dessert inside her next to my finger. She moaned, and half a grape popsicle fell out of her mouth and onto the bedsheets. I slid the frozen dildo out of her, licked the sheen off the frozen confection and grinned up at her.
Shortly afterwards, we were both naked. She reached over and pressed a pair of lime popsicles into my hands and guided them to her nipples. "So hot," she whimpered as she straddled me, her hips rocking back and forth, hot love juices dripping down her thighs and across mine. I traced small circles over her breasts, leaving behind pale green trails of syrup on her fur, then sweeping them down to her stomach. She growled at that, a soft, animal growl like I'd never heard before, grabbed my wrists and moved my hands up to her breasts again. "Here," she whispered, still rocking against me.
Well, it's not fair to make the lady do all the work, so I slid my hands down her back and lifted her ass a bit, then lowered her onto her back, crushing the green popsicles between our hot, sweaty bodies. Sticky green fluid smeared all over our bodies as I thrust into her hot, wet pussy as she mewed with pleasure, shuddering with the ecstacy of orgasm.
I think that was what started to push me over the edge. "Oh, man, gonna cum. . ." My eyes snapped open. "Oh, shit, I'm going bareback!" I moaned.
"Pull out. . . you. . . you can do it on my face." Fiona said, blushing. I pulled out of her and stood up, stroking my throbbing tool vigorously. It didn't take long: just three or four seconds, and my body began pulsing with waves of pleasure as I squirted thick, white jism all over her face and neck.
Fiona reached up, wiped a glob of cum off her face, and licked it off her fingertip. "I was wondering what this tasted like," she said idly.
"And?"
She made a face. "Pretty bad, actually." She sighed happily and wrapped her arms around me, cuddling up nice and close. "You think we pulled out in time?" she asked.
"Dunno. Too late as far as pre-cum is concerned, but we'll see." I yawned and wiped at her face with her T-shirt.
"Thass good. We need to be really careful, especially now," she said off-handedly.
Something clicked in my mind, and I put it all together: her funny behavior, her sudden lack of inhibition in bed, her complaining about being hot all the time. "You're in heat, aren't you?" I asked.
She seemed a bit surprised. "Was it that obvious?"
"Actually, no." I thought about it for a moment. "If I hadn't walked in on you, I'd never have guessed. . . hang on, do cat-girls have the same cycle as normal cats?"
"More or less."
I did the math in my head. "Assuming you didn't get pregnant, then, you've been in heat at least twice since I've met you, and the first time was. . ." Oh. Right. 'Three nights later,' when she suddenly came into my bedroom and started kissing me and one thing led to another.
There was a long, awkward, and hopefully not pregnant pause as we both considered this revelation and tried to figure out how best to deal with it.
We decided to ignore it and pretend it had never happened. "So, you wanna go again?" Fiona asked.
"Sure, just let me get a condom this time. No point in taking chances again."
"Actually, we've already got one." She reached into the grocery bag (which had been badly mauled during our escapades), and pulled out the little paper bag Gianni had given me, which was also a bit worse for wear. It turned out Gianni's little "gift" was a family-pack of heavy-duty ribbed rubbers. Along with a bottle of something called "horny goat weed," a pocket-pack of kleenex, and a note saying, "Good luck."
Like I said before, sometimes, I felt like everyone around me was in on a joke that I wasn't getting.
- END -