Five Stars - August 2009
August 2009
Don scrolled through matchmaker.com. He had joined the website about a year ago in hopes of dates. His luck had been sparse. He had a few unsuccessful dates here and there. His most successful being 4 dates and one hand job. That night he found himself deleting messages from local men of all ages and sizes (the creepiest being an sixty-seven year old bear) that simply said "yiff?" and sometimes "yerf!" Don groaned with each "delete this message" he clicked. There were a few messages that were worth looking at. One had been from a nice otter, a little young for Don's taste, who asked if he was interested in going to a movie sometime. The otter must have at least read Don's profile and saw he loved movies. The draw back to this otter being his match level.
The website had a system for helping to find potential matches by having the user answer questions after setting up the profile. The questions ranged in things as simple as favorite foods and music to more personal things like political beliefs and sexual tastes. Don answered as many as he could, or at least felt comfortable enough to. The site recommend it in order to get as precise a match as possible. Don blushed, giggled, groaned and puzzled his whole way through the seemingly endless supply of questions.
The otter messaging him had only a fifty-seven percent match level with Don. The otter must have been having bad luck setting up dates and got desperate for a match he was willing to go lower. Or he simply did not care about the rating and thought over fifty would be good enough. Don typed up a short response how he appreciates the offer but would not be interested. He replied to the message because he felt it to be courteous. Don knew that if he had messaged someone of interest and had been waiting for a response he would appreciate a response of "no" if they did not feel the same way. He did not like giving false hope to a prospect.
Don finished up with his other messages and brought his computer over to the couch. He put on a movie he ordered from Netflix and sat down on the couch. Don browsed the selection of possible matches based on their rating and location. He stopped scrolling when he saw one for a fox. No sooner had Don clicked on the profile when a message popped up in his inbox from the fox.
GentleLover68's message was brief and sweet.
"Hello there beautiful," it began. The "beautiful" part had Don hooked. He had a soft spot for sappy compliments. "I was wondering if you be willing to accompany me to dinner this Saturday night. Can't wait to hear back from you." Don only hesitated so he could check the profile. Had he already looked over it he would have immediately replied "Yes!"
A local business owner, film lover and ninety-seven percent match. Not to mention good looking as well. The fox's profile picture featured him wearing a nice suit and tie. He had a seductive smile on his muzzle. Don did not believe in love at first sight. But he did believe in seduction at first sight. This fox would have a good chance on their date.
The two exchanged a few more messages and agreed to meet at a nice Mexican restaurant within walking distance of Don's apartment. When the night arrived, Don dressed in his most casual formal attire. A black, short-sleeved button down shirt and black slacks. He left the top couple of buttons open on his shirt in order to fluff up his chest fur. Letting the rustled white be an invitation to his date.
The night began with Don walking over to the restaurant, "Precaución Lobo." Upon entering, Don found no fox waiting for him in the lobby. This did not bug him though. He had been early and his date might be running late. Don took a seat at one of the couches that lined the walls of the lobby for when guests needed to wait.
Don's nose picked up the scents coming from the kitchen. Chicken and beef wafted through the air with the mixture of rice and beans as well as other foods and spices. It all smelt so enticing. Don had been so nervous about his date to this point, he had not noticed his hunger. His stomach growled and he knew he would need to skip out on a vegetarian meal that night. His tail wagged, thumping against the leather cushions, and his muzzle salivated. The anticipation border lined unbearable.
A mere half hour passed by. But with his hunger and the traditional music (that he never enjoyed and just seem to run together in one very long song), Don assumed an hour minimum had passed since his date promised to arrive. Several foxes had already passed through the entrance. But they were an employee, a sixteen-year-old, and a straight, married fox. Finally after another half hour (or hour for Don), a fox dressed more casual than Don strutted through the front door. He had gone heavy on the cologne (possibly perfume) because Don felt himself tearing up from the stench. The fox held out his arms and had a big grin on his muzzle.
"Hey there!" he said with plenty of enthusiasm.
This must be him.
Don accepted the hug with some apprehension. The smell of the fox and being kept waiting did not sit well with him. He felt a tad disappointed his date did not dress as formal as his profile picture.
"I'm Chuckie," the fox said once the hug finished.
"Don," he replied since the two had only know each other by usernames.
The two were seated pretty quick because the dinner rush was finishing up.
"Everything here looks so good," Chuckie commented as he looked through a menu.
"Yeah. I'm starving," Don said with a tone, hoping to receive an apology for being forced to wait. He received no such thing. Don decided to let it pass and if it worked out with Chuckie this could be a fun "How We Met" story. Don gorged himself on chips and salsa once they arrived. Thanking the restaurant for their trick to fill up customers.
"You know they give you those so you'll be full by the time dinner arrives. Then they can get away with giving you smaller portions," Chuckie explained as Don came close to finishing the bowl.
Thank you Captain Obvious!
Don slowed down after that. He did not want to upset his date by ignoring his "sound" advice. Chuckie certainly seemed to think he made an impact. He went on to discuss dieting and lies by the food corporations until their meals arrived.
Don became more courteous about table manners and not being as harsh in his thoughts about Chuckie. He flet this way now that he had some food in his stomach and a meal before him. The scent of Don's chicken enchilada dinner helped cover up the cologne bath sitting across from him. Don saw this as an opportunity to change the subject.
"What would you say your favorite movie is?"
Chuckie finished taking a bite from his burrito before answering.
"Tough one. But I would have to say Freddy Got Fingered."
Don's ears flicked and he choked on his food.
"Wait, what?" he asked as he managed to clear his throat.
"I know it gets a lot of crap, but it's a funny movie," Chuckie continued.
Don pictured himself leaping across the table and punching the fox in the face. He would yell at him for being a complete fool. He would scream at him questions like "How can you enjoy that piece of shit?" and "How is jacking off a horse a staple of comedy?"
Don sat in his seat though, grinning like an idiot to repress his anger.
"Odd, for a film enthusiast like yourself I would have pictured something more along the lines of a classic film would be your favorite," he finally said.
"Nah," Chuckie said with a laugh, "Old movies are too boring for me.
Don began shoveling his food down to keep from loosing his cool.
Much to Don's distaste Chuckie asked for the check right away. He hoped to at least milk out dessert from the date, but apparently stinginess was another bad point to rack up on this night. Don had it set in his mind that he would thank Chuckie for the dinner, go on his way, and if the fox ever contacted him again he would simply decline for a date.
"So, my place or your's?"
Now things changed in Don's mind. Sex had not crossed his mind during dinner because of how things had turned out. Maybe he can make this all up. It would be a last ditch effort at a relationship. Friends with benefits at best. Don felt himself getting warmer at the idea. His crotch tingled at the thought of fucking the fox. He wanted to take out the frustrations he had of Chuckie on his rear.
"Your's," Don replied with a devious grin.
***
Chuckie unbuckled his jeans and let them hit the floor of the bedroom. Don at least liked how Chuckie got down to business in this scene. No kissing, no talking about how pretty or cute the other looks, just get naked and get to work. The fox dropped his boxers next. Chuckie took a seat on the edge of his bed and beckoned Don over.
Don undid his slacks, letting them and his underwear be left behind. Shirts on I suppose. Don stroked himself as he padded over. His length exiting his sack.
"Get on your knees," Chuckie whispered.
Before Don could request being on top, the fox had grabbed one of his shoulders and yanked him down. This was Don's only moment where he really wanted to be on top instead. Maybe if he did good enough he would still get a chance to finish in the fox's tailhole.
Don began by licking gently at Chuckie's sack. Encouraging his penis to exit. The fox moaned at each lick. Once it had exited enough, Don went to licking the tip. Chuckie gave a yelp at the first, coarse lick and settled down after that. Don had plenty of practice at this. It had been one of the many things he learned to do in college. He worked his muzzle down the shaft. Taking more and more of the length with each bob of his head. His paw gently fondled the sack.
Don had just fallen into his rhythm when Chuckie grabbed the back of his head. Don was use to this with guys. It came natural for most who were receiving to grab the head of the one giving. What happened next though, was unexpected. Most let Don do his thing because we made sure it would be the best they ever had. But Chuckie did not want to wait for him to really get into it. The fox pushed down on the back of Don's head and thrusted his hips forward. Forcing him to take the whole length at once. Unfortunately the fox was just a little too long for Don's muzzle and the tip triggered his gag reflex. Don pulled back as quickly as he could. Chuckie's cock dripped with his saliva.
"What are you doing?" Chuckie asked.
"You got my gag reflex!" Don choked out.
"You aren't very good at this are you?"
Don looked up at Chuckie in disbelief.
"You shoved your dick in my muzzle you idiot! 'Gentle lover' my ass!"
"Get out!"
"Fine!"
Don quickly put his pants back on.
"You are the fucking worst!" Don shouted. "That website fucking lied to me. There is no way we are a match."
The fox smirked and laid back in his bed, "Oh yeah? Well guess what! I just choose my answers based on who I want to fuck!"
Don stopped midway through buckling his belt.
"What?"
"Pretty easy. You had a nice face so I just changed my answers based on what your answers were. Before I changed 'em it was like thirty percent or something."
Don felt blinded with rage. All he could see was red. He wanted to punch Chuckie, rip off his dick, throw something at him and spit on him all at once. He wanted to report him to matchmaker.com. He wanted to come back later and vandalize his apartment.
Instead, Don just left without another word.