Handholding
Short story about handholding, with very different characters. Part of the 'big tits' trifecta, and further proof that I totally miss the point.
The lynx was sitting in the grass with her legs crossed, near the top of a gentle hill that overlooked the park's pond. There were a few people in the gazebo near the pond, but it was far enough away that they were inaudible.
The grass was still wet in the afternoon, it was getting cool enough that it never dried out. The lynx's jeans were wet where they were near the ground. There was a red flannel shirt tied around her waist and she wore black pawboots. Her long black hair was tied back in a ponytail. It was all very stern, most of all her imperious feline gaze, eyes narrow in the sunlight, black eartuft pennants moving when the wind kicked up, and the ruffs on her cheeks gave her a leonine look.
The only thing that broke her stern exterior was her sleeveless tee, with a playful cartoon logo and the text below it reading TEAM MEOW MEOW. White on black, though.
Her ears didn't move as a softer figure approached from the side, and eased itself to the ground next to her. "Mind if I sit with you?" It was a hyena woman, round of build and dressed in a red-and-brown dashiki, and she made a face as she settled in to the wet grass. "Ick."
The lynx ignored the rhetorical question, but the hyena touched the top of the cat's square paws. "And can I hold your hand?"
The lynx frowned. "No."
The hyena smiled and lifted the lynx's paw anyways, and squeezed it between her own. "Will you put up with it for a while?"
A pause. "Ten minutes."
"That's fine!" The hyena pulled the lynx's paw into her lap. "Did you know that your paw is wet....yeah I guess so. And also can I lean on you?"
"Why? Is something wrong?"
The hyena shrugged. "Not really. No. Just touch-y."
The lynx snorted. "Five minutes then. Urf," she said, catching herself as the hyena leaned against her. The lynx shoved her into a more vertical position but let the wider woman lean against her side. The hyena pulled the lynx's arm around her side, and made some sort of sound. Grumbling or grunting, something hyena. The lynx sat mostly vertical, stolid.
"Lisa," the hyena said.
The lynx huffed.
"See that guy down there? He's shirtless. That means we can be shirtless too, there's a rule now I think."
"Pass."
The hyena smiled. "Would that look too lesbian?"
"I am a lesbian. You're a penis-slurping hyena."
"You're so mean to my boyfriends."
"Kind of my job."
The hyena laughed quietly, the motion threatening the lynx's stability. "You shouldn't have anything against bare breasts."
"I don't when they're on actual women."
The hyena tsked. "So mean." She nuzzled the lynx's shoulder. "Thanks for the ten minutes though. I really appreciate it."
"Four, now."
"Why are you sitting out here?"
"I could answer but it'll cost you those four minutes."
"Oh." The hyena squeezed her. "Will you be offended if I don't ask then?"
"Not at all."
The hyena looked up at her. "Want to hear about my day?"
"Ayo, why do you even ask?"
"Because I really kind of like it when you say no." She smiled.
"No, then."
"Cool." She rested her head for a while, gently playing with the cat's paw. She pricked herself on claws more than once. "I appreciate the time, Lisa."
The lynx pressed her arm against the hyena's side. "You should. And you don't have to talk."
The hyena laughed silently and nuzzled, tail lazily wagging.