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A fox leaped over a felled oak tree in pursuit of his evening meal; a white rabbit. Mother Nature's wall-to-wall carpeting- a thick blanket woven of leaves and pine needles covered the forest floor beneath the sprightly paws. Trees stood rooted to their spots, watching as their Autumn-hued leaves cascaded to the ground, illuminated by the rays of the setting sun that shone between thick trunks and created a vast array of colors, smeared across the sky's endless canvas.

Nature's palette was something to adore, the wolf thought as he swabbed the tip of his brush in a bit of Cadmium Orange before applying it ever-so-gently to a spot on the fox's pelt where the sun, eternally frozen in it's setting state on the painted sky shined. As the orange on the palette began to run out, the wolf reached over to his taboret to squeeze a bit more from the tube.

...Or not.

Tossing the empty tube into a nearby wastebasket, the canine artist hopped from his stool and placed a paw to his chin, hips cocked to one side in a critic's stance. Perhaps the fox's leap could be accompanied by a flurry of leaves in its wake, which would require a bit more Yellow Ochre and Burnt Sienna. Those clouds could use a bit more pink in them; right near the top...but he'd need a bit more Rose Madder for that.

A search for these colors turned no results, souring the wolf's previously contented state. A trip to the art supply store was in order, and with Christmas shopping season in full swing, he was not looking forward to it.

A quick peek out of the window of his loft told the canine that driving would not be the best idea; just getting out of the complex and onto the road would be a challenge to even the most well-seasoned stunt driver, and the traffic was just advertising a thirty-minute commute. Looks like walking would be the verdict.

He wasn't much for driving, anyway.

***

Oh, the ambiance of the city. Car horns, the mindless chatter of cellphone conversations and all the usual sounds were multiplied ten fold as last-minute Christmas shoppers crowded the sidewalks, trying to hail a cab and haphazardly bumping their bags into everyone around them. It was a pickpocket's paradise.

Turning his shoulders this way and that, futilely trying to avoid bumping into people, the white-furred canine continued on his trek to the art store, a few blocks down from his apartment complex.

Having expected no less than for the store to be packed to the hilt, the wolf was pleasantly surprised to find that it was only slightly busier than usual.

"Hey, Sean!" Someone from behind the front counter called, and the wolf turned to see a friend of his behind the counter, waving to him. Waving back briefly, the wolf made his way past the acrylics and watercolors to the oil paints aisle; the third one from the right.

Emerald green eyes scanned the numerous tubes, organized into their neat little rows, locking onto each one that they recognized from Sean's mental shopping list.

"Yellow Ochre...Cadmium Orange...Burnt Sienna..." He whispered to himself as he pulled the tubes down from the rack. Alas, Rose Madder was out of stock, but a blend of Titanium White and Cadmium Red would do just fine. Well, time to check out. He wanted to spend as little time out as possible.

"Doing a little Christmas shopping there, Sean?" The skunk from behind the counter asked with an affable smile as he rang up and bagged the tubes. "Comes to thirty-two dollars and seven cents."

"Nope. Just trying to finish something I started. Thanks Andy." Sean paid for his items, and without so much as a smile, or a 'Happy Holidays', the wolf was out the door and back into the mosh pit that was the city sidewalk.

He really wasn't much for Holidays.

***

Whereas the art store had been less busy than expected, the coffee shop on the corner was quite the contrary. Despite his misanthropy, Sean had to feel sorry for the people behind the counter, trying to deal with dim-witted customers. Had the white wolf not been out of coffee at home, the trip to the coffee shop might not have been necessary.

But alas, fate abhors us all.

"I ordered this Latté without soy!" A bleach-blonde, irate vixen in designer clothes and a handbag to match screeched at the two raccoons behind the counter. "I want to speak to the manager!"

"I am the Manager, Ma'am, I'm terribly sorry, if you could just allow us a moment to-"

"I want it done now!" She shouted over the atmosphere, thrusting her cup into the raccoon's paws. Other customers in line were slightly miffed, but Sean was not going to have any of it.

"Bitch."

Upon hearing this, a few people in line near the wolf gave short chuckles and smiled at his boldness. Angrier than before, the vixen narrowed her burning eyes and stared holes right through the wolf.

"Excuse me?" The audacious vixen sneered, taking a step forward.

"Are you allergic to soy?" Sean asked, staring back at her, not even blinking.

"No." She snarled in reply.

"Then what business do you have bitching about something that doesn't even make much of a difference beyond the fact that it might not taste exactly the way you'd like it to? This place is packed, it's Christmas, and these two raccoons back here are busting their tails trying to take care of other customers, and all you can think about is yourself, and the fact that your order wasn't made to your exact specifications. Well, shit happens! Take your fucking soy...Latté whatever and get out of here, you bitch!"

Absolutely mortified and humiliated beyond belief, the vixen simply took her cup back from the raccoon; apologized weakly, and made her way out the door looking like she might cry. Sean simply stood there in the line, fuming while some of the other customers applauded, the white fur on his face tinted to a light pink.

He wasn't much for snobby rich women in designer clothes.

Having calmed down slightly from his tirade, Sean thanked the raccoon as he took his coffee and took a seat near the window. It was the coldest there, but as jam-packed as the shop was, he didn't have much of a choice.

As he sipped gently at the hot espresso, Sean stared out the window, watching as people and their bags made their way from store to store, searching high and low to find that brand new, one-hundred dollar toy that every kid just had to have that year.

Outside, a screaming little otter complained loudly about the temperature, and the fact that he had to go 'pee-pee'. Sean prayed that the mother would not bring her child into the coffee shop. Screaming was the last thing he wanted to hear in the world at that moment.

In fact, the wolf really wanted to hear nothing at all. Claiming that silence is golden would have been an understatement. Silence, at that moment, to the wolf, would have been a diamond-encrusted platinum belt buckle with gold accents.

And so it was that Sean picked up his drink, and was about to head home when he was abruptly stopped by someone whom he recognized. It was the raccoon from behind the counter who the wolf had previously defended.

"Hey." The raccoon said as he removed his apron and draped it over his arm.

"Hi."

"Look, I just wanted to say thanks for what you did back there, I really appreciate it. It really helped to move things along with that bimbo out of the way."

"Don't mention it." Sean finished off his drink and tossed the empty cup into the nearby trashcan, almost full to spilling over. With that, he bid the raccoon a good day and headed out the door, back into the fray before the raccoon could say another word.

He didn't exactly take well to strangers randomly coming up and talking to him.

***

Though you couldn't tell just by looking at him, the snow flurries had stuck like glue to Sean's white suede jacket, melting instantaneously from the warmth of his apartment.

After checking the heat, the wolf removed his jacket and tossed it onto the table, pulling out some leftover ham from the refrigerator and staring at it shamefully. On an Artist's salary, he'd had to make that ham last for a week, and one more bite was going to make him ill. Steak sounded good. Or even some pasta. Hell, gruel sounded better than one more night of ham, but he didn't have much of a choice. Sean cut another slice from the hunk of meat and threw it in the microwave before reaching for a nearby wine bottle.

It was just another day in his boring, unsocial life, but things were about to get better. Suddenly, a knock at the door startled the wolf and he almost dropped his flatware on the table.

"Now who could that be?" He mumbled to himself as he made his way towards the door, but when he opened it, he knew exactly who it was. Stunned beyond belief, all Sean could do was stare dumbly at the raccoon in front of him- the same raccoon from the coffee shop.

"You!" He said. The raccoon just laughed.

"Yeah, it's me. Name's Trevor, by the way. You left this at the shop today. Thought I'd drop by and return it." He said, holding up the plastic bag from the art store, containing his paints, and his wallet, which he had somehow left in there.

"Oh. Thanks." Sean said, taking the bag from the raccoon. He didn't even realize that he had forgotten it. "How'd you figure out where I live?"

"You left your wallet in there, I just checked your ID for the address."

"Oh."

"So you're into art, huh?" Trevor asked, peering past Sean's shoulder to see the canvases hanging on the walls of the apartment.

"Yeah. You can check 'em out if you want to." Sean said, opening the door wider and allowing the raccoon inside.

"Wow..." Was all that Trevor could say as he made his way into the center of the room, admiring the work.

"If you want to buy any of it, just talk to me, and I'll work something out with you." Sean said as he went back to the table to finish eating, apparently not paying any mind to the fact that there was a total stranger in his home. He didn't care; the only things worth stealing were too big to sneak out discreetly, or behind closed doors.

Amazed almost to the point of being in a stupor, the raccoon stood in one spot and looked around him. At least 50 canvases of varying sizes hung on the walls, depicting nature scenes, cityscapes, and several abstract pieces, done in everything from muted earth tones to bright, vivid oranges and greens. Bed linens stained and splotched with every hue imaginable, rendering the original color indecipherable, worked as drop cloths spread out on the floor under an easel.

The easel itself was an eyesore. Constructed of wood, age and constant use had taken its toll on the oak A-frame. Warped and faded, cracked and broken in some places, the easel was held together with duct tape and what appeared to be remnants of wood glue from a mediocre patch-up job. Still, the easel held sentimental value for the white wolf, so he chose to keep it.

Whereas the decrepit easel was quite the eyesore, the canvas that leaned up against the wall next to it was as white as the snow outside. Untouched by paint or brush, the white, gessoed cloth sat innocently in the corner, waiting its turn to experience the beauty of art.

"I've got dozens of work of art hanging on the walls, and you're staring at a blank canvas?"

Trevor turned around to see Sean standing there, arms folded across his chest and leaning against a support beam. Chuckling slightly, the raccoon just shook his head.

"Nah. Just wondering what you might put on there."

Sean sighed and unfolded his arms, letting them fall limp at his sides as he walked over to the easel.

"I dunno. That's artist's block for you. I'm fresh out of ideas, and paint splatters have lost their touch for me. I figured I would just finish the one that's there on the easel, and then maybe get a real job. Become another brick in the wall..."

"You ever try doing portraits?"

Sean's eyebrows popped and he placed a paw to his chin.

"Tried 'em once before, never really got into it though. Why?"

"Well, I was just wondering if you took commissions."

"Commissions? Yeah!" At that particular point in the day, it was the most enthusiastic the wolf had been. Even the slightest mention of income of any kind made his ears prick.

"It's...a little embarrassing for me...but I've always wanted to have a nude portrait done of myself." The raccoon said nervously, averting his eyes. "Would you be okay with that? I mean it would be totally professional and all..."

"Yeah, sure. That's no problem. There's...some furniture around here, if you want to pose on it." Sean said with a laugh as he turned to gather his supplies. A naked stranger in his home was no problem, the wolf just wanted money.

Sean tried not to pay attention to the sound of the raccoon undressing as he rounded up the colors he would need. Ivory Black, Raw Umber, Titanium White...Burgundy for the futon that the raccoon had dragged over in front of the easel.

When Sean turned around, his stomach turned with a sense of awkwardness to see that Trevor had already chosen his pose. Sitting sideways with one foot planted on the floor, he draped the other leg over the arm of the chair. Resting his cheek on the palm of one paw with his elbow on the arm, the other arm was rested on top of his knee. To top it all off, a sultry smile crossed the raccoon's features.

Sean fought to keep his eyes from moving downward, and quickly pulled his head away from the sight of the naked raccoon like pulling a magnet from a refrigerator.

"How's this?"

"Umm...it's good. Good. Okay, let's get started before you get too sore there."

After getting the lighting just right, Sean began to mix the colors on his palette. A little bit of Raw Umber and Titanium white mixed together created the perfect shade for the raccoon's grayish-brown fur. Ivory black for his feet, Burgundy with just a touch of Alizarin Crimson for the lighter areas on the sofa...Burnt Umber would be perfect for the wood paneling on the walls...grabbing a glass jar and two bottles, he began a process reminiscent of a chemist making a potion- one third linseed oil, two thirds turpentine- the exact mixture he used for underpainting and backgrounds.

One last glance at his taboret gave Sean confirmation that he had everything he needed, and he then took his chance to gawk at the raccoon for a moment, coming off with the illusion that he was just studying his form. Well, part of it, anyway. Trevor had a toned, lean figure, with a slight muscular build showing through his earthy-colored fur. A well-packed sheath nestled between his athletic legs was perched atop a pair of ample, round balls. Sean almost began to drool as his own cock throbbed hard in his jeans.

Oh right, the painting... Sean took a mural brush and dipped it in the mixture he'd made before taking some burnt umber and creating the background with only a few simple strokes, intentionally leaving them somewhat nondescript so as to keep the viewer's eyes on the very sexy subject.

Next, a number six filbert, loaded with burnt umber and titanium white. With each stroke, the oils began to form the shape of the raccoon on the chair, sitting as still as a statue. Working quickly, the wolf added all sorts of strange things into the paint, some of which smelled none too pleasant. He swapped out brushes, cleaned them, wiped them, and made strange gestures with other tools familiar only to the artistically inclined.

"Don't try to hide behind that canvas, I can see you blushing." Trevor said, his smile going wide and full of pearly whites. Sean simply smiled for the first time that day, shaking his head slightly.

"Forgive me; I'm a little bit bashful at this kind of thing."

Finally adding the details in with a small round brush, Sean began to paint in the stripes on his tail and the mask around his eyes. Within an hour, the wolf was done with the painting, and the raccoon was never more relieved to be able to move again.

Stretching and groaning hard, Trevor walked over to the easel and looked at the finished product.

"Wow..."

"Oil paintings usually take about six months to dry all the way, but I used a drying agent in this one, so it should be ready within a week or two."

"Cool..."

At that point, Trevor's eyes flicked from the painting to Sean's emerald green orbs. For what seemed like the longest time, they just stood there, staring into each other's eyes.

"I like how you did the shading right here, this layering is awesome. The eyes really seem to pop. Good focal point." Trevor said, motioning to parts of the painting with his finger. Then, the raccoon's eyes flicked downward sharply, locking in on the hefty bulge tenting the wolf's pants.

"I'm flattered." The raccoon said with a wink and a smile.

"Huh? Oh!" Sean turned a bright shade of pink as he looked up from his crotch and opened his mouth as though he were going to say something. He repeated this process several more times, but couldn't find the words to say. Trevor decided to make the first move, sealing his open muzzle over Sean's and placing a paw on the hard shaft in his pants. Sean kissed back, eyes downcast as he watched the raccoon's member slide smoothly from its furry sheath, standing at a fully erect seven inches in a matter of seconds.

Their muzzles continued to mesh, their tongues wrestled, and sparks flew between them as they continued to make out, right there in the studio.

Fervently unbuttoning and unzipping the wolf's pants, the raccoon slid them down and off, casting them aside without even taking his eyes from the thick, canine cock. He couldn't even wrap his whole paw around the throbbing wolf meat as he began to stroke it, his fingers squeezing gently, cradling the hefty balls with the other paw.

Slowly, Trevor slid his paw up and down the shaft lightly, his fingers teasing the hard flesh beneath them, his other paw gently cupping and squeezing the furry orbs cradled within it. The raccoon bent down to kiss the round cock tip, pre clinging to his lips.

Sean cast his eyes to the ceiling and moaned loudly as he felt the raccoon's lips close around the head. With tongue lashing at the slit, Trevor continued to pump the wolf's dick, gaining speed with each passing moment and sucking gently on the head. Sean gasped and felt his dick twitch hard as it was engulfed by a warm wetness when the raccoon let the whole shaft slide into his maw, bumping at the back of his throat and dripping pre.

The wolf started to hump gently, the raccoon bobbing his head in perfect time, fighting the gag reflex from the nine inches of cock he was swallowing. Sean moaned loudly as he felt himself nearing his climax, repeatedly ramming his cock into the raccoon's chops. Trevor gripped the wolf's forming knot hard as he bobbed with full force, his tongue making sure that no part of the pink shaft was neglected.

"Trevor...I...I'm gonna..." Sean was unable to finish his sentence as he came in mid-thrust with a geyser of thick, warm spew, flooding the raccoon's muzzle. Trevor started to swallow, but load after load filled his maw with cum, the sticky liquid dripping down in copious amounts to join the several hues of oil color on the drop cloths below.

Sean panted hard, every pulsating vein in his dick still throbbing as it gradually began to soften, the raccoon licking away at his nose and the sides of his muzzle. With a long and loud sigh, Sean leaned back on the stool and started to pull his pants up while Trevor wiped off of his muzzle what he couldn't get with his tongue.

"Well....that was fun..." Trevor said, rubbing his jaw.

"Heh...yeah."

"So what's the damage?"

"Come again?"

"What do I owe you? You know, for the painting? I don't figure that an artist as skilled as you are wouldn't charge for a painting like this. After all, judging by the receipt in your bag, those few tubes of paint were quite expensive. So it's only right that I pay you for it."

"You already did."

They both shared a laugh at Sean's crack- it had been the first time the wolf had laughed all day.

"Well...oil paintings typically take about six months to dry, but I used an alkyd in this one so it should be completely dry within a few weeks. If you want to give me your number, I'll just give you a call when it's fully dry. Or maybe a call beforehand for dinner?" The white wolf added with a wink. Trevor laughed.

"Sounds good to me. Nice meeting you." Trevor said in jest, taking one last look at the painting. He pecked the wolf on the lips, and with that, he was gone.

With a yawn, Sean made his way over to the easel and assumed the same critic's stance that he usually did when he was sizing up a painting. With yet another sigh, he shook his head and walked over beside the easel to look out the window, placing his arm on the structure.

As the wolf shifted his weight to the easel, there was the sudden, heartbreaking sound of wood cracking and splintering, and before Sean had any idea what was going on, the rotted, decrepit wood broke beneath him, the wolf collapsing with the entire frame.

"Aughhh..." Groaning, Sean stood up and dusted off his pants, reaching behind himself to rub his aching back. He recoiled when his paw hit something wet. Was he bleeding? Drawing his paw up to his face, he saw an abstract mixture of Raw Umber, Titanium white, and Ivory black, with just a hint of Alizarin Crimson covering his pads. Turning around, he sighed as he saw the easel destroyed, as well as the smeared canvas. Salvageable, perhaps? No, upon inspection, the wolf found that the stretcher bars were broken. It was trash.

As he stood amongst the wreckage, Sean buried his forehead in his paw. This was going to be a hard one to explain. Oh well, he could probably do another one close enough to the original to make it seem like nothing had happened.

With one final sigh, Sean wiped as much of the paint off of his clothes as he could get, throwing the used paper towels in a nearby wastebasket before going back to the kitchen table to finish his ham and wine.

He wasn't much for portraits anyway.