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"Playing Games" -Kyell Gold * * *

This story takes place in K.M. Hirosaki's "Blue Forest" universe. Some of the characters and all of the settings are his. Chronologically, it takes place sometime in between "In This Together" and "Golden Opportunity." My deepest thanks for his permission to muck around in his sandbox, as it were. I tried to leave it as I would wish to find it. Note: This story is listed as M/M even though it's more properly "M"/M ... anyway, read on. Comments welcome here or on my livejournal: http://www.livejournal.com/users/kyellgold/ * * * Christy had never in her life felt like such an idiot, not even the time she'd made a left turn and ended up on the wrong side of the median with the driving instructor shouting at her from the passenger seat. The moment she pushed open the door of the club, the male pheromones in the air inside submerged her, leaving her panting to catch her breath, sticking her slender red muzzle out the door to gulp the clean night air before the bouncer said, "In or out, in or out" in a bored tone. "Both, please," a lemur who was next in line said in a high-pitched giggle. His companion, a stringy little weasel, laughed and slapped his butt, and the two of them pushed forward, herding Christy into the club. Lights flashed in all colors, music blared from so many speakers that she couldn't find the source, and through it all, the thick, strong, male scent of arousal, a hundred different species checking each other out, feeling each other up, and maybe more than that. Christy drifted to one side, skirting the dance floor, and ended up near a bar. She stood there until a stool opened up and then slid onto it, tucking her bushy red tail carefully underneath. After several minutes, she realized that, contrary to her usual experience, the porcupine behind the bar was not going to rush up and beg her for her drink order. In fact, even when she signaled him with a paw, it took him a good five minutes to work his way down the bar. "Yeah?" he said, looking down at her. "Uh...beer." She had a naturally low voice, but she tried to lower it even more. He clicked his front teeth. "We got twenty-three kinds of beer. Which one?" "Oh." She saw a row of taps and pointed to one with a vaguely familiar logo. "That one." He grunted and grabbed a glass from under the counter to fill it. As he did, a coyote in a sleeveless tee and a skunk with so many piercings he jingled as he walked pushed up to the bar between her stool and the next. "Hey," the skunk said. "Checker." The porcupine nodded, slid Christy's full glass over to her and said "Three dees," and then slid a little device over to the couple, who had already dropped a pair of dees on the bar. The skunk pressed the device to his arm, and after a moment, Christy heard a beep. He showed the device to the coyote, who said, "Now do me," and held out his left arm. The skunk pressed the device to it, and Christy didn't notice until it beeped again that the reason the coyote didn't have his right arm free was that his right hand was buried in the front of the skunk's jeans. Right in public, in front of everyone! The skunk checked the readout and then handed the device back to the porcupine. "Thanks," he chirped happily, and pulled the coyote into a deep kiss that made the larger canid's tail arch up almost right into Christy's face. She leaned back and took a drink of her beer, keeping out of the way of the now-wagging tail. When the two had finished their kiss, she watched them leave together with a little pang. So many people hooking up just like that, so easily. But not her. And now that she was actually here, her adventure seemed ludicrous. What, she asked herself, did you expect to find the last straight tod hanging out in the biggest gay bar in Blue Forest? No, nobody here but miles and miles of gay boys and one lone idiot drinking a beer she didn't really like. And there weren't that many foxes around anyway. She spotted one black fox, but he was dancing with a big hunk of a mongoose. There was a red fox dancing with a wolf, and another sitting in a booth with a mouse, and one sitting sandwiched between a serval and a coyote, whose distracted expressions left no doubt that there was more going on under the table than above it. And another over there, and one coming right towards her. "Hi, sweetie," the little red fox said, slipping easily between her and the next stool. The mesh vest and short cutoffs he wore showed off his gorgeous, slender figure perfectly. He held up a silver key that hung from his neck and twirled it between his black-furred fingers. "I'm Key, and I'm your key to a fantastic night." He brushed a paw down her exposed arm. "You look like you could use some company tonight." Christy looked back into his eager eyes. He was so young, and he was a bit more...well, gay...than she'd been counting on. "I don't think..." she started, and he moved his paw to her lips. "Aw, you don't have to think. I can tell what you want." His other paw moved down to her thigh and rubbed it, then slid across it to where her pants hid the fake sheath and large dildo she'd harnessed to herself. His eyes widened. She pulled his paw away. "That's okay, thank you." "You are a big one." He grinned. "Tell you what. I'll give you my special price for other foxes. Fifty for anything you want to do to this body." He rubbed his paws down his sides, and moved them slowly around the bulge in front of his shorts. For a moment, Christy was tempted, then she shook her head. She definitely wasn't desperate enough to pay for sex. Not yet. "All right." Key shrugged and grinned. "Good luck, sweetie. Remember the key." He held it up, let it drop, blew her a kiss, and vanished into the crowd. "Is everyone here so forward?" she murmured, and to her surprise the porcupine answered. "Just the ones who want something from you." When she turned to look at him, he grinned. "That's everyone." "I want something too," she said. "Another fox." He raised his eyebrows, and indicated the dancers on the floor. "So go get him." "Still working on this." She indicated her beer. He shrugged. "Suit yourself." Someone down the bar called, "Checker!" The porcupine gave her another look and moved down to take care of another couple. Christy took another drink of beer, and noticed that the taste was a bit less unpleasant. At the same time, she could definitely feel its effects, relaxing her and quieting her worries. Her disguise was working so far. The little prostitute had been taken in, and the bartender didn't suspect anything. The straps across her chest were tight, but not painful; for once her small chest worked in her favor. She had to wear a t-shirt to hide the straps, so she couldn't show off a chest ruff like two thirds of the boys in this place, but at least she didn't stand out too much for that; there were several guys around in tees, and a few even in collared shirts. Must have worked late and couldn't wait to get down here, she mused. None of those were foxes, though. Pity; a good, honest working fox would be a welcome sight, even if he were gay. "H-hey." The jaguar on the stool next to her had gotten up, and a tall otter waved to her as he sat down, or attempted to. He slid off the stool, giggled, and then pulled himself up, holding onto the bar. After a few seconds trying to flag down the porcupine, he turned back to Christy. "Hey. Wanna hear a j-joke?" "Um..." "Knock knock." "What?" He pushed her shoulder gently. "'Sa joke. You're shu-supposed to say 'Wh-who's there'." "Look, I..." "Oh, c'mon." He looked petulant. She shook her head. "Who's there." He giggled. "My cock." She turned away. He grabbed her shoulder. "No, no, thish is funny. Now you say 'My cock wh-who?'." "I don't think so," she said. "C'mon. 'My cock who?'" When she didn't say anything, he apparently decided that it didn't matter who'd set him up. "My cock under your tail! C'mon, how 'bout it?" "No, thank you." She tried to sound as frosty as her beer had been. "H-hey, don't b-be that way," the otter said, and turned back to the bar. "Hey, Th-Thereur! Get your spiky ass over here and g-get me some more tequila!" The porcupine walked up just as the otter turned back to Christy and said, "So, sweet cheeks, you wanna get shome a the f-finest lovin' around?" "Chit," the porcupine said, "I think you had enough for tonight." "Naw, I'm f-fine," the otter said, and promptly fell off the stool again. "You waxed the shtools ish all," he mumbled as he got up, using Christy's legs as leverage and groping more than was necessary. Christy wasn't sure what to do, but Thereur appeared to have noticed. "All right, Chit, you wanna leave the fox alone? I don't wanna have to call Shireen over." The otter snapped his head towards the entrance, and then looked suspiciously back at the porcupine. "Shireen's not w-working tonight." "That's why I don't want to have to call him," the porcupine said placidly. "Now, you going to leave the nice fox alone and go home, or...?" "I am not going home alone!" Chit yelled, a bit too loud. "I can't even get the fucking wallflower foxes tonight? What the fuck?" Thereur made a small gesture, as the otter continued to rant. "First that little shit over there, and then this lump--oh, no, Shedric, you are n-not going to..." A black panther, six feet tall and showing plenty of muscle, had appeared behind Christy and now stood in front of them with his arms folded. "That's enough, Chit." Everyone within twenty feet was staring at them both now, and Christy wanted to jump behind the bar and hide. Any minute now, she was sure, someone would say, "Hey, is that a girl??" The otter was the focus of attention for the moment, though. He looked around rebelliously, though obviously intimidated by the panther. "I gotta right to be here," he mumbled. "Thereur, call Shireen," the panther said. The otter's head snapped up. He watched Thereur pick up the bar phone and start to dial. "Lissen," he said, "lissen, I don't wantcha to b-bother him." "You gonna leave?" Thereur said. "Yeah, yeah, I'm going. Fucking pussy," he shot at the panther as he shuffled away from the bar. The panther started after him, and before she knew what she was doing, Christy grabbed one of his arms. "Don't," she said, when he turned to stare at her. "Not worth it." He looked from her to the porcupine, and then nodded slowly. "Yeah. Guess you're right." She let go, and he wandered back the way he'd come. "Thanks," Thereur said. She turned to look at him. "I didn't think. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to butt in." "It's okay," he said, looking after the otter. "Chit's an okay guy, but he gets rowdy when he's drunk and horny." She nodded. "Who's Shireen?" Thereur laughed. "His on-again, off-again boyfriend. Works as a bouncer here sometimes." He had a boyfriend and he was still trying to pick someone up? How would that work? Christy was adrift without bearings in a hostile sea where the landmarks--like horny, obnoxious guys--seemed familiar at first glance, only to prove foreign and confusing when she looked below the surface. How could she imagine that she could function in this world? This had been a stupid idea from the start. Best she could do would be to cut her losses and go home. The porcupine patted her arm. "Hey. That other fox he was talking about?" He pointed across the dance floor to where a red fox was pressed back into a corner. "Looks like he could use some company too, maybe." Christy looked across the dance floor. The fox Thereur was pointing at looked as uncomfortable as she felt. The feeling of not belonging faded a little, the way it does when you find someone else who might share it. If the two of you can be strangers together, then that's better than being strangers alone. That was how it had worked with Mariano, at first. She glanced at her mug, which still had some beer in it, then up to the porcupine's toothy smile. "Yeah," she said. "Okay." She left a five-dee piece on the counter and said, "You can toss the rest of that. Thanks." He beckoned her closer with a finger. Curious, she leaned against the bar. He put his muzzle right up to one of her large triangular ears and whispered, "If you want to pass for a boy, you should act more aggressive." Christy jumped back from the bar, and stared at him. He grinned at her. She looked to either side to see if anyone had heard, but the otter's stool was still empty, and the wolf on the other stool had his head bowed over some drink with a pink umbrella in it. Besides, the music was loud enough to cover any whispers. Good. She could escape with her dignity mostly intact. She took a couple steps towards the exit, but the porcupine said, "Hey, hey, wait. C'mere." Wary, she stopped, and then thought, well, hell, he already knows. She walked back and leaned over the bar. Thereur leaned in again and whispered. "I doubt anyone else will notice. I wasn't even sure 'til I asked the question and saw your reaction. So don't worry. Just pretend like you're thinking about sex all the time." "I am," she whispered back into his ear. "Not like a guy thinks about it," he said. "Pretend like...I dunno, pretend he's the last pair of shoes in the store." She put her muzzle to his ear. "That is so stereotypical!" He just looked at her. "But thanks for the advice," she admitted. His confidence buoyed her, driving out the panic as quickly as it had come. Thereur was actually encouraging her to go on, believing she could do it. Maybe it was worth a try. One try. "Attaboy," he whispered back, and punched her shoulder. She flashed him a grin as she stepped out to the dance floor. She held her tail up behind her and focused on the fox across the way. As she drew closer, she could see a little more of how he was holding himself. He huddled back into the wall as though he were worried someone would come up behind him. His ears were folded back, probably because the music was so loud; as she got closer to the dancing, Christy folded hers back as well. He didn't appear to be watching one particular person on the floor; his dark eyes flitted back and forth between many different couples. At one point, he did fix on someone, and a moment later, she saw a tall 'roo in black leather approach him. His body language told her his answer before he shook his head firmly. When she pushed around a knot of dancers twenty feet from him, he turned and met her eyes. She saw his initial flinch, and hesitated. If he wasn't ready, she didn't want to approach him. They stood like that, twenty feet apart, watching each other, and she noticed that her hesitation appeared to have relaxed him. Slowly, as the seconds ticked by, he stood a little straighter and unfolded his ears, angling them towards her. She did the same, but still didn't move, letting her gaze wander over the fox's slender body. He filled out his t-shirt not much better than she did; his was blue like hers, but it bore a complicated green knotwork design on it, below which the word "Encora" was printed. His paws were jammed into the pockets of his tight jeans, and his tail was tucked behind his legs. She thought he was adorable, even though he was a couple inches taller than she was, and started to imagine a romantic evening with him, candlelight and soft whispers into twitching ears. The music took a particularly harsh turn, and that reminded her of Thereur's advice. This fox was the last chance she had in this place to hook up tonight, she told herself, and focused her years of loneliness into purpose. She strode forward. Instead of the closed-off body language he'd given the 'roo, he gave her a tentative smile as she approached him. She stood there for several seconds before she realized she had no idea what to say. The music pounded on around them. His muzzle flashed red, green, orange in the lights as he watched her patiently. Finally, she said, "Not into dancing?" He shook his head minutely. "Waiting for someone?" He shook his head again. Then he tilted his head to the side and said, "Maybe." "You don't know?" His eyes flicked up and down over her body, checking her out as obviously as she'd checked him out. She felt a small thrill inside her, both at the success of her disguise and at the interest in his eyes when he looked back up. "Are you with anyone?" "Not yet," she said. His tail twitched, and she saw the movement. His shy smile was so adorable she wanted to grab him and take him home right there. "So," he said, "My name's Alex." "Chris." She caught herself before adding the "ty." They stood for another awkward moment, and she almost extended her paw for him to shake. Don't be a complete doofus, she told herself, and remembered back to Key's brazen introduction to her earlier. She didn't quite think she could bring herself to feel up a guy in public, but she could do the next best thing. She stepped in close to him, took his paw, and before she could think about what she was doing, pressed it to her crotch. Just as Key's had, his eyes widened as he felt the long shape under the denim. "Oh my," he said, and bent his muzzle, placing it under hers. "Is that for me?" "Uh...yeah," she said, and slid an arm around him. He came willingly, and it felt so good to be holding another fox like that that she had to close her eyes. The music faded out, everything but his scent and the feel of him. He was nothing like Mariano, and that was just as she wanted it. He held her back, and slid her paw down to his rear. "That's for you, if you want it," he whispered. She could feel his heart pounding. Hers beat a matching rhythm. Such a supple young body. He couldn't be less than five years younger than she was. Hopefully not too much more. And the funny thing was, even though she didn't really want his rear, it was so nice under her paws that she couldn't stop rubbing it. He was rubbing her, too, only she couldn't feel it very much. The fake sheath kind of rubbed against her clit, but not in a way that was going to get her off anytime soon. It was clear that she should be feeling it, though, so she tried to remember how Mariano had reacted when she'd rubbed him through his pants. Apart from the times when he'd said, "Take the damn pants off already" (which might work in another half hour or so, the way things were going, but not right now), and the times when he'd just kept watching TV, she seemed to recall from the early happy years of their marriage that he'd moaned a lot. She mimicked those moans as best she could and rubbed up closer to Alex. She lost herself in the joy of exploring his body, this young fox who a scant fifteen minutes ago had been just an image on the other side of the room, and now was letting her put her paws wherever she wanted. She still couldn't bring herself to move her paws to his hardness, though he was pressing it into her hip, but he didn't seem to mind if she just rubbed her hip against him. Meanwhile, though he didn't stop rubbing her fake sheath, his other paw slid up and down her side, and that was a wonderful feeling too. "You smell great," he murmured, and she jerked, jolted out of her reverie. She'd gone to great lengths to enhance her scent with male musk, and it was one of the things she was most apprehensive about, up close. The fact that he'd mentioned it had startled her before she could register what he'd said. "Sorry. Nothing." She looked back into his worried eyes and made up something. "I, uh, thought I saw a guy out there..." He looked out on the dance floor. "Wanna get checked and get out of here?" She hesitated. This was her point of no return. If she were going to back out, it would have to be now. Part of her screamed to get this foolishness done with, but the heady scent of Alex in her nostrils, his tight young rear under her paws, his pretty sparkling eyes which flashed with the colors of the club, those things were speaking more loudly to her. "Yeah," she said. "Let's go." They got the checker from Thereur, who winked at her as he handed it over. Alex took it first and applied it to his arm with the casual familiarity he might've shown to his portable phone. Christy had another moment of panic when she wondered whether it would show gender, but apparently here at the Spinning Disk, that was unnecessary; if the checker had that function, it had been disabled. SPECIES TYPE: VULPINE TELOMERIC SCRAMBLE: NO STANDARD EIGHT-POINT ARRAY RESULTS: INCONSEQUENTIAL CROSS-BETA CHECK RESULTS: NEGATIVE CROSS-BETA SPECIFIC TRIPLE CHECK RESULTS: NEGATIVE VERACITY: 99.999972894 % She looked up at Alex's smile and assumed that was good. Now she was worried; what if Mariano had caught something and passed it to her as a parting gift? He certainly hadn't been faithful those last couple years. She held the checker awkwardly against her forearm, and pressed the button, but the readout just said ERROR. "Sorry," she said. She repositioned it, trying to match the way Alex had done it, and this time when she pressed the button she felt a small, sharp sting. She handed the device to Alex, just as he'd done, and from his smile when he dropped it back on the bar, she assumed she was clean. "Good luck," Thereur said as they turned to leave. "Let me know how it turns out." She flashed him a smile and nodded, following Alex out the door. "You friends with him?" Alex said as they stepped out into the chilly air. Christy had to pause to catch her breath. The crisp, clean air reminded her how thick and musky the air in the club had been, and the first few breaths were almost as intoxicating as the beer had been. "Yeah," she said offhandedly. "Not for long, but he was helpful tonight." "How so?" "Oh..." She told him about the otter, and he nodded. "He was all over me, too. I guess when guys get desperate in there, they go for the foxes. I guess you know how it is..." He tilted his ears again to her. He had a way of doing that that she'd never seen in another fox; where she just swung her large ears to wherever she wanted to listen, Alex sent his all the way back and then forward to rest, as though he wanted to sweep the area every time he moved his ears. "...never been hit on by another fox," she realized he was saying. "Do you do that often?" "No." She folded her arms, and then glanced at him. "Where are we going?" "My place, if that's okay. It's just a couple blocks away. Unless you live closer." She shook her head. "That's fine." "Good." He wagged his tail from side to side, grinning. The feeling took her back to her college days, picking up guys in bars and going back to their place. Fleetingly, she wondered whether she should've told him where to go, but he seemed to know how these things went, so she'd just follow along. "You lived in the area long?" "Just moved here from Spanfront. I graduated last year, so I've been here, um, seven months now." So he was seven or eight years younger. Well, this would only be for one night, and young men were supposed to have more energy. Mariano's had declined when he got older, for sure, though he still had enough to spend with that... She shook those thoughts away. "Did you have any trouble finding work here? I hear it's not easy." He snorted. "You'd think with a chemistry degree it would be. I had a couple contacts into Duhamel, but they said they're all full now. I'm lucky to have a lab tech job. That's one step up from washing beakers." Christy smiled. "An important one, though." He grinned at her. "True. What do you do?" "I, uh, work in a little shop on Cleyera Arcade." She owned the little candle store, and had since the divorce. But she didn't want to sound old, and owning a store was something old people did. "I haven't made it over there yet. I think one of the secretaries at the lab mentioned she gets all her jewelry over there." "I don't work in a jewelry store," she said quickly, racking her brain for a reasonable place for a gay male fox to work. Fortunately, the solution wasn't far. Greta's handmade clothing store next to hers had a lot of gay customers, and Greta, an older dingo with whom Christy had coffee every morning, had encouraged tonight's little scheme. She'd suggested the Spinning Disk as the place all her clientele talked about. It seemed therefore fitting for her to say, "I work in a clothing store. We sell handmade scarves, sweaters, shirts and stuff." "Cool," Alex said. "I'll have to get over there sometime." It was a courtesy remark; she doubted he was interested, but it was nice to hear anyway. The further they walked, the more Christy started to worry about the next phase of her plan. Picking up a guy in a club was one thing, but the idea that he would get so hot that he wouldn't care where he stuck his hard-on seemed more remote now that she was walking next to an actual guy, a real fox who was cute and seemed pretty low-key, except for his tail wagging. He was excited, sure, but would he really laugh when he saw her harness and say, "It's okay, let's do it anyway"? Her mind whirled through different scenarios, and when Alex pointed to a small apartment complex and told her that was his, she almost abandoned the plan altogether. But then the light changed, and they were walking across the street together, and he gave her a nervous look. "I hope it's okay," he said, and then she just couldn't run off and leave him, because she could see in his eyes how much it would hurt him. "It's fine," she said. "Nicer than my place." Which was a fib, but not by much. "It's nicer inside," he said. "I keep it clean." "I'm sure it'll be fine," she assured him. "Anyway, we don't need the lights on." He grinned back as they walked up to the gate. When he'd punched in the code and pushed the gate open, Christy hesitated again, but not long enough for him to notice that anything was wrong. Here goes, she thought, and walked into the building. The inside bore the hallmarks of a dedicated building manager: Clean windows, a paper taped to the mailboxes that said "please remember all trash must be placed outside by 7 am on Tuesdays or it will NOT BE PICKED UP," and recently vacuumed rugs in the hallways. The name tags on the mailboxes were handwritten in the same neat script, which made Christy smile. It was nice to know that even in the more run-down parts of Blue Forest, there were people who took pride in their living quarters. Alex's apartment was no less tidy, from the small open kitchen to the neat living room with a small TV and worn loveseat. What Christy could see of the bedroom and bathroom through the two open doors at the back of the apartment was equally clean. She approved. Alex himself had closed the door and was standing uncertainly beside her. "I like it," she said. "It's very nice." This didn't seem to relax him. "Oh, I do what I can. It's affordable." Only then did she read his mood, and remember that she was supposed to be a horny guy who'd just picked up this sweet young thing in a club. The pretense wasn't going to last much longer, but might as well keep it up to the finish. "So," she said, sidling closer to him, "can I see the bedroom?" His tail, which had stilled, wagged again, and she answered his grin as he led her to the left door and pushed it open. This was more what she'd expected. Posters on the wall, a computer desk in the corner with stacks of papers all over it that had been hidden from the main room, and shoes out on the floor. No clothes on the floor, though, and no food on any of the tables, and the bed had been very neatly made. Against one wall was a homemade bookshelf of concrete blocks and wood, overflowing with books. Another good sign. She turned to look at the two posters on the wall with the door, one a poster for a romantic comedy she quite liked, and one a concert poster for a band she'd never heard of. In the silence of the room, she registered the rustle of clothing behind her, and when she turned around, Alex was kneeling on the bed, moonlight illuminating each soft curve of his naked body through the window. His clothes lay in a pile just beyond the corner of the bed. She looked up from them to the fox who was smiling and wagging his tail. His chest sloped down to a nice, tight tummy like Mariano had never had, and below that...she hadn't seen one of those in the flesh in a long time. His legs were spread so his sheath and sac hung enticingly down between them, bobbing slightly with the motion of his wagging tail, and his member was fully erect. Christy couldn't take her eyes off it. "Gonna join me?" This was it. She took a breath and walked towards the bed, keeping him in her view--he was so handsome, and with every step she grew more and more worried that he was just going to throw her out. Alex grinned at her. "Where's my big strong foxy? Don't go all shy on me now." He would hate her. He would throw her out, and she would never get another chance. She didn't know if she was telling herself that to motivate herself, or if she really believed it. At the edge of the bed, he leaned forward to meet her, and she put off the moment with a kiss, and oh, what a kiss it was. He was hungry and timid, thrusting his muzzle to hers and then holding his tongue back, waiting for her to invade his mouth. She chased his tongue and curled around his, exploring the inside of his muzzle and his teeth. And while they were kissing, she couldn't resist. She reached down and curled her paw around his cock, sighing happily at the hardness, the feel of it, the smooth skin and the warmth. The way it jerked slightly at her touch, the way he moaned as she slid her paw along it, the way he wanted her touch, enjoyed it, leaned into it, licked at her tongue as she gave it to him, all these things came rushing back to her. It was true, she thought. You really didn't forget. Even after two years without, and five years before that without the real thing, the memories came flooding back and this whole charade, the whole improbable evening was worth it just to have felt this again. She didn't want it to end. She felt his paw at her pants, rubbing against her big fake dildo, and she knew there was no way his fingers would be fooled by the silicone, as nice as it was. In another minute...unless... She broke the kiss. He started to fumble at her pants, and she grabbed his paws in hers. He made a little "erp?" noise and looked back into her eyes. Christy grinned at him and gestured towards the bed with her muzzle. "Get on all fours," she said in a low voice. For a second, he just stared back at her, and then his dark eyes sparkled and his grin stretched back to his cheek ruffs. "Yes, sir!" He scrambled onto all fours and arched his tail up, wagging it invitingly. Christy had to admire his rear, the white fur coming up between his legs just to the base of that cute tail, the white sac hanging down between those slender thighs. She realized that she could do anything to him right now, and so when she got up behind him, the first thing she did was cup his sac in her paw, feeling the weight of his balls, and then she couldn't help sliding her paw up to feel his stiff erection again. He moaned softly, and then said, "The lube's in the side drawer over there." "Okay," she said, and stretched out her paw, finding that she could reach the side drawer without letting go of Alex. She found a small bottle and dropped it on the bed, then set about undoing her pants with one paw while she kept stroking the fox with the other. The silicone was warm, at least on one side, from being pressed into her fur all night. She flipped open the lube and squeezed some out onto her paw, rubbing it up and down her silicone and then pressing her paw up against the tight little pucker under his tail, which proved to be not as tight as it looked; her two fingers slid into it immediately, making Alex's erection jump as he gave a high-pitched moan. Any doubts Christy had been harboring about whether he could take her big silicone shaft were immediately dispelled. This fox might even have room to spare. She had no idea how much lube to put on. After applying a second pawful, she figured he wasn't going to stop her when he felt there was enough, so she just said, "Ready?" He said, "Yeah," with a little impatience, and she took a breath before continuing. Her shaft glistened in the moonlight, fell dark as she moved it under the shadow of his tail, and then disappeared into his soft white rear. "Oh, yeah," Alex moaned, so she supposed she was doing something right. She kept pushing and switched paws on his erection, letting the slippery one coat his warm shaft in lube while she brought her other paw around to rub herself on her clit, just above the harness. She worked with both paws, letting her thrusting hips push and pull the shaft. Alex didn't seem to notice anything odd about it, and as she kept stroking him, she found that she was enjoying this reversal of roles, where she was the one giving it to the man and he was under her power. She pushed all the way in and stopped, held his shaft still in her paw, and squeezed it lightly until he moaned and pleaded, "Don't stop, don't stop!" Then she smiled, relented, and drew her paw in a long, luxurious stroke up his length as she slid the silicone out and pushed it hard back in. Her years of practice were paying dividends in other ways she'd never imagined, allowing her to finger herself with one paw while devoting all the rest of her attention to him. She knew she could get herself off in a little while, and the squirming of the fox below her and the feel of him were making her even more horny, but still she wished that the length she was stroking with her paw were buried as deeply inside her as the shaft the fox had pounding into his rear. Alex grabbed a pillow and bit down on it as his moans got louder. Even though it had been years, Christy recognized the signs, and tightened her paw around his trembling shaft, sliding up and down its length. He really smelled beautiful, so wonderfully male, and she breathed in his musky arousal and felt its warmth spread through her system like a hot drink, settling down near the little button where her fingers were working overtime. She kept moving her hips, knowing there was no way she'd finish at the same time as the shuddering fox below her, and just as that thought crossed her mind, his whole body tightened and he hung in tense anticipation for a moment, moaning, "Oh! Oh! Yes, oh...Ah!!" The last exclamation came at the release of his tension, as his body convulsed and Christy felt the warm rush over her paw and heard his moaning yelps, muffled by the pillow. She enjoyed his climax while it lasted, the intensity of the motions and the sharp scent of his seed, and felt her warmth begin to rise as well. Her paw kept stroking Alex, mostly because she loved the feel of his warmth against her fingers, but when he started to squirm and his moans got more high-pitched, he pulled her paw away and she grinned. Poor sensitive boy. She grabbed him again, but stopped stroking, and this appeared to be okay, because he just shivered and didn't move. She was getting closer now herself, her fingers moving quickly. She worked one in past the harness to slip inside her, and sucked in her breath. Much as she wanted to take her time, she knew she had to finish fast, because that's what boys did. "Did you...?" came the faint query from the front of the bed. "Not...yet..." she gasped, exaggerating her arousal. "Oh." He sounded faintly curious, and she didn't realize why until his hips moved against hers, and she realized that she'd stopped thrusting when he'd come. That was bad, very bad. No man would have stopped in the middle. She set her hips in motion again, working the movement into her masturbation so it wouldn't be more distracting, and focused completely on herself. Where Alex's release had been a wave building and growing to crash on the shore, hers was a slow swell that drew her deeper and deeper into it. She felt submerged in her orgasm when it came, her whole body alight with the pleasure of it. Dimly, she heard herself yipping, and she pushed another finger into herself, trying to make it last. Her paw tightened on Alex's erection, but he didn't protest, just leaned back into her thrusts and even wound his tail back around her back. She stayed submerged for a long time, her body singing with delight, and there was no question that it was better than lying on her bed at home, even with the position of the dildo reversed. Alex was saying "Wow" and turning his head back to look at her, and she grinned widely at him, grabbing his tail playfully in her muzzle and moaning through it. He moaned and shuddered when she slid out of him, pulling the silicone back against herself. She slid it into her pants and fastened them before Alex turned around. He looked at her pants, and then up. "Aw, I wanted to see it." She had nothing to lose by ending the charade now, except that feeling of power. Her orgasm was fading already. She could feel the potential for another one lurking just below the surface, but she stayed her paw, because she knew men didn't have multiple orgasms. The pleasure might be subsiding, but she could keep the dominance. She grinned at Alex. "Maybe you'll get to see it next time." The audacity of her words startled her. They'd just come out that way, in the flush of pleasure, and she held her breath to see how he would react. Men didn't talk about next times, she knew; that smacked of commitment. Especially in the gay world, she thought, where each encounter existed as an island, and you had to navigate some tricky waters to get to a more solid relationship. But perhaps her preconceptions were mistaken, or perhaps Alex was an exception, because his tail wagged behind him and his grin widened. "I had a good time too," he said softly, and leaned forward to give her a kiss. "You wanna, um, stay here?" She looked at the soft curves of his body in the silver moonlight, and she did, very much. "Let me make a quick call," she said. "Can I use your phone?" When she got back from the living room, he was in bed with the sheets pulled up to his chest. He patted the space beside him, and she crawled in. "Leaving your shirt on?" he asked. "Yeah, I..." She touched the bandages gingerly. "Lost some fur recently and it's all bandaged up." He tilted his muzzle, but thankfully didn't ask how she'd lost the fur, just nodded and turned to lie on his side facing away from her. She knew how to spoon, though she'd always been on the inside, and it was a nice feeling to welcome his body into her arms and hold him tight. "I never heard anyone come that long," he murmured. She rested her muzzle between his cheekruff and shoulder, and murmured back, "Practice." He giggled. "It's funny. I always kinda wondered what it would be like with another fox." "Like it?" She flipped her tail over his hip, another possessive gesture she took from Mariano. "Yeah. I didn't expect you to be so big, though. You're as big as a wolf, or a 'roo." "Sounds like you're speaking from experience." "Some." His tone became more guarded. She nuzzled him. "It's no big deal. I haven't had a lot of experience myself." She had lost the persona she was occupying. What kind of history would a gay fox top have? She didn't want to get into areas where he might ask questions she couldn't answer, so she stuck to the truth. "I wouldn't be able to tell." He rubbed her paw with his own, over his chest. "You feel nice. So you never topped a wolf?" "Heh." She chuckled. "No." "Too bad." He grinned. "How about a coyote?" "I don't do other species anymore," she said. He snuggled back against her. "Really? I didn't think that was possible for us." "True story." "I guess if you're a top, there's not many wolves who'd be into that. I can think of a couple, though. And there's this weasel I know, he'd totally be into it." "I just like foxes," she said. He sighed into the pillow. "I'm not complaining." She was enjoying more than just her position, she realized. It was startling to her that this fox, whom she'd only met a couple hours ago, was agreeing to let her sleep in his bed. Whenever she'd been picked up in her college days back in Highslope, they always went back to the boy's place, not hers, and if he let her stay over (and if she wanted to), it was always with the understanding that she was the subordinate one. She would never have let a boy stay at her place, not until the third or fourth date, when she knew she could trust him. That Alex trusted her was probably not because she was more trustworthy, but because of some unspoken pact in the Blue Forest gay community. Greta told her occasional stories of her customers losing jobs or housing because of their orientation, and though such things were not as common as they had been, Christy thought it was a shame they happened at all. Add that to the general worries that everyone in Blue Forest faced, and she could see that it would be nice to know that there was one place you could relax, one group of people you would relax with. "Why did you come with me?" she whispered. Alex sounded half-asleep. "Hm?" "You turned down the otter, you turned down a lot of people. Why me?" "Dunno." He yawned. "You're a fox. I just kinda went to the Disk out of habit tonight--my Friday night thing. Didn't know if I wanted to be someone's fucktoy tonight. But a fox...and a hot one, too..." He wiggled his rear back against her. "Glad I did." "Me too." Even though she knew it was not a toppy thing to do, she kissed him on the neck. She was sleepy, and so was he, and she liked just being curled up with him, and she liked that he liked it, too. * In the morning, she woke before sunrise, her internal alarm clock disoriented by the unfamiliar setting. Alex was sprawled on his back beside her, but the moon had passed along to the other side of the sky, and the curves of his body under the blankets were illuminated only by the blue LEDs of his clock. Five-thirty. The first bus wasn't 'til six. It would take her half an hour to get back home, and she would have half an hour then to clean up and change before she had to go meet Greta for breakfast. Of course, considering Greta would be at her place, maybe they could push that out a bit. Waking up in someone else's bed was a strange experience. The bed in any home was always the place most personal to the owner; of all the fixtures in the house or apartment, it held the deepest scent, the strongest identity. She'd been too excited, too close to him to feel strange going to sleep. Waking up now, with him asleep, she felt strongly that she was intruding, and she reached out to touch him, as much to reassure herself that she was allowed to as to feel his lithe body and soft fur again. When she slid her paw along Alex's chest and he didn't wake, she moved on to his belly, sinking her fingers into the matted fur there and giggling to herself at the residue of their lovemaking. Lovemaking? No, it had been sex, no more than that. But it had been fun, and she'd needed it badly. Alex turned his head and murmured something. She stilled her paw, but he did not wake up, so she kept stroking his stomach, and then her paw brushed the tip of his erection. Marveling at the stamina of young men, she let her paw trace it gently, feeling down to where the furry sheath was open and then sliding back up to the tip. Alex made a soft "mmm" sound. Christy sighed. She moved her paw back up to his chest and let it rest there, leaning on the other elbow and watching him. In her experience, watching someone sleep was the best way to wake them gently. Sure enough, a few moments later, Alex stirred. His eyes fluttered open and met hers, and he yawned, then managed a sleepy smile. "Hey." "Morning," she said. He studied her muzzle. "I've never woken up next to a fox before." "What have you woken up next to?" "Mmm. Wolf, lion, coyote, muskrat, weasel..." He stretched, and lay back with a sigh. "I dated a coyote for a while in college." "What happened?" In the pre-dawn darkness, the question didn't seem inappropriate at all. "I dunno. We were fucking pretty regularly there for a few months, and going to dinners and sleeping over. And then I got busy with finals, and we both started being busy. I guess he found someone else." He flicked his ears and yawned again. "That was years ago." "You haven't dated anyone since then?" He shook his head against the pillow. "School was brutal for a while. Didn't have time for a boyfriend. And since I moved here...well, I don't really know anyone. Just a few guys from the club." Christy nodded. "It's hard to get out to meet people." "No kidding!" Alex rested a paw against her belly, rubbing through the t-shirt. "Do you have time to stay for breakfast?" She glanced at the clock. Five forty-one. "I really should catch the six o'clock bus." "Twenty minutes? No problem. You like eggs and sausage?" "Uh...sure." "Okay then." He slid away from her paw and grinned, then rolled out of bed and stood naked by the bedside. He took a moment to stretch, lifting his arms over his head and standing on tiptoe, and Christy was sure he angled himself to show off his slender physique and his still-hard erection to her. She met his eyes and smiled appreciatively, giving a low whistle that had no artifice behind it. He was in great shape, the lines of his ribcage sweeping down across the boundary between the red and white fur to meet the round curve of his hip and rear, and she still loved watching the long, hard shape of his cock bobbing in the air as he stretched. He saw where she was looking and arched his tail, swinging his hips as he padded out of the room. A light came on outside a moment later. She laughed to herself. This guy was going to make her breakfast? Naked? She slipped out of his bed. This, she had to see. When her eyes had adjusted to the light, she could see that he'd put on an apron and was melting butter in a saucepan. His tail wagged behind him as he looked up. "This'll just take a couple minutes. I'll start the sausages." "Can I help?" she asked automatically. He waved her away. "Nah. This is easy." He turned and opened the fridge, lifting his tail as he bent over to show her his rear. Christy took a good look, admiring the tight butt as well as the taut leg muscles. For a lab tech, he had a nice body. Maybe that was his gay side. Certainly it looked like he knew the inside of a gym. He straightened up with a pack of sausages and dropped them into a smaller skillet on the stove, grinning at her when he saw her staring. He cracked several eggs into the larger skillet and then reached into a cabinet and came down with a couple jars of spices. "Wow, seasonings," Christy said. "I'm impressed." "I got bored of just salt in college," Alex said, taking a teaspoon and measuring out two teaspoons of basil, then one tablespoon of oregano. His meticulous procedure was almost comical, especially since Christy could still see that he was naked behind the apron. "You really are a chemist," she said. "Oh, this is a precise recipe," he told her, mixing the seasonings around and checking the clock. "For eggs?" He nodded. "I don't mess around." "Can't wait to taste them, then." She let her gaze wander to the living room, studying the loveseat and area rug in a way she hadn't taken time for the previous night. The harsh kitchen light illuminated them with stark shadows and gave them almost a dangerous look. The room was small, but Alex had made good use of the space. The loveseat filled the area where a full couch would have crowded the room, and there was no coffee table forced into the space between the loveseat and TV. The small rug that defined the area was hard to see in the shadows, but it felt nice under her paws as she leaned on the kitchen bar. The smell of cooking eggs and sausage made her stomach rumble. She turned back to see Alex scooping the breakfast onto two plates. He put the skillets back on the stove, grabbed a couple forks, and handed her a plate. "I usually just eat in front of the TV," he said, his ears flicking down slightly. "That's fine," she said. "I won't stand on ceremony. But are you going to wear that apron to breakfast?" He grinned abashedly. "I guess not." He slipped it off and took his time hanging it up, posing for her again before picking up his plate and leading her to the loveseat. Christy thought she had never had a better breakfast, not even on her honeymoon when she and Mariano had eaten strawberries on the terrace of their hotel overlooking the dazzling white ski slopes of Eight Helms, with the winter air kissing their lungs and the pristine trails below them still waiting for the first tracks of the day. Sitting in this semi-dark apartment with a gorgeous naked tod, eating delicious eggs and grocery store sausage that wasn't half bad, she couldn't stop smiling. "I guess you like it?" Alex said when she'd devoured half the plate. "It's wonderful. I'd be eating it faster, but I keep getting distracted by the view," she said. His body was outlined by the same sharp contrasts that lit the furniture, and though his erection had retreated, his sheath still cast a long shadow over his thigh that Christy found almost unbearably sexy. She toyed with the notion of staying another hour, but that would mean either mounting him again, which she wasn't sure he'd be up for, or just pawing him, in which case he'd want to return the favor. The clock kept moving, and at five to six, reluctantly, she stood. He took her empty plate and set it on the arm of the loveseat. "I gotta go," she said. He nodded, leaning slightly towards her, obviously waiting for permission. She spread her arms and stepped forward, and he grinned and hugged her back, arms tight around her. "I hope we see each other again," he said. She slid her paws down to his bare rump and pressed his sheath to her, drew her muzzle back, and kissed him on the lips, letting the barest flicker of her tongue through. Her eyes met his as she stepped out of the hug. "Me too," she said, and walked out before she could change her mind about leaving. Over coffee, Greta lost no time on small talk, her sandy muzzle creased in a big smile as they sat at the coffee shop down the block from their stores. "So. Tell! I figure it went well, since you needed me to stay the night." Christy grinned. "It was pretty good. Was Tyler any trouble?" The dingo shook her head. "Course not. We played cards until nine, and then he said, 'It's my bedtime now, Aunt Greta.' I swear, you got lucky he didn't get more from his father than his pecker and nuts." Christy giggled. "Did you play 'War'?" "Of course. I tried to teach him pinochle, but I think I'll have to wait a few years." "Thanks so much for staying the whole night." She told Greta about Alex, and the dingo chortled delightedly at several points in the story. "I can't believe you, girl!" she said, shaking her head. "I thought you were gonna get him in bed and then show him your cheats! Instead, you fuck him right up the ass!" Christy looked around, laughing. "I can't believe I let you babysit Tyler, with that mouth." Greta laughed. "Honey, don't try to change the subject." Christy finished her story, ending with the last kiss. "So," Greta said. "You gonna see him again?" "I hope so. We didn't really arrange anything, though. I guess I'll just go back to the Spinning Disk." "Good girl." The dingo nodded. "Told you it'd all work out all right. But don't you get your heart set on him. He might like you, or he might like the big cock." "Greta!" "Men are all the same, sweetie. Gay men are just the same in a different way." * Christy didn't feel right imposing on Greta to babysit again too soon, and she didn't trust anyone else with Tyler. That, at least, was her rationalization for waiting until the following Friday night to set out for the club in her costume again. It just happened that the next night she was free was a Friday. In the back of her mind, she was hearing the words "Friday night habit," though she was unable to tell whether it was their implication for tonight or for a possible future that was making her so excited as she slipped past the bouncer. She fended off advances from a wolf and two different leopards, getting more into her dominant persona and enjoying it a little more. She kept one eye on the doorway, and when Alex showed up, she had a moment of worry that he wouldn't remember her or would be with someone else already. Worry vanished at his bright smile and his hurry to join her at the bar. They went back to his place again, and because she was determined to reveal her secret to him, she told him she wanted him to top her. "Well," he said, "to tell you the truth, I was kind of looking forward to getting that nice big cock of yours up under my tail again." You still could, she thought, but didn't have the nerve to say it. "I know, but I thought it was only fair to give you a turn." He shrugged. "You don't have to. I'm a bottom. I like it." He kissed her on the nose. "Now be a good top and take me, okay?" She almost told him right there, but couldn't bring herself to do it. So she went through the charade again, sliding the silicone into him and fingering herself while her paw worked on him. At least, she thought, she got off and got to paw off a cute young man, not to mention getting to see him naked all night and hug his body to her when they were done. He made a couple remarks about getting to see her, but she fended him off and left the next morning wrestling with the conflict. She liked Alex, and wouldn't mind seeing him again, but she couldn't see him again without telling him the truth. After several talks with Greta, Christy decided that maybe it was best that she take a break from him. She'd been so sure she would be able to tell him this time, but it was harder and harder every time. She'd start over with someone else, someone who didn't have those preconceptions, and this time she would tell him right away. The following Friday night, she stayed home, playing 'War' with Tyler. They turned over cards, and every time the cub turned over a higher card, he exclaimed gleefully, "I win!" When he lost, he handed the cards to her almost as happily, saying, "You win, mommy!" What he lived for, though, was a tie. Then he would say, "It's a war!" and demand that they make a big production out of laying down the next three cards, face down. He would hold his breath as the next cards were turned over, and no matter who won, he would wag his tail and say, "That was a good war!" Christy could have played with him for hours. Once he was in bed, though, she sat by the window and looked out over the night. Her small apartment over the candle store looked towards the Duhamel project, clawing its way slowly into the sky, and she felt for a moment a kinship to the awkward structure, protruding into a realm it had no business occupying. But there was a subtle power to it, too, and it inspired some respect from her for what it represented, the ambition and hubris all contained in brick and stone. She wished she could feel that for her own desperate quest, but where Duhamel felt noble in its purpose, she felt dirty and tawdry. The Spinning Disk lay over to the left, and as her eyes slid that way, she fancied she could hear the music and see the colors, and she wondered if Alex were sitting in the club waiting for her. Don't be silly, she told herself, and don't feel bad. You might like him, but he's gay, and he'll maybe miss your big toy, but he'll go find another one, some wolf or coyote or otter or what have you. In a week, he won't even remember you as an ache in his rear or a dirty dish in his sink. He'll have a new one, and as they wake up tomorrow morning, maybe he'll remember you as a story, a curiosity. I got fucked by this fox once, he'll say. Weird, his mate for the night will say. And they won't know the half of it. When she said the obscenity, even in his voice and in her mind, she looked around guiltily for Tyler, and laughed bitterly at herself. Imagine if he'd known that his toppy fox was not only a woman, but a woman with a five-year-old son. * Greta was waiting for her when she came home Saturday night, before midnight. The dingo took one look at Christy's flattened ears and tear-streaked muzzle and bustled her onto the couch in the living room, sitting beside her. "Tyler's asleep," she said, "and his door's shut. What happened, hon?" Christy held it in for a few seconds, long enough to say, "It didn't go so well this time," before bursting into tears for the third time that night. The dingo held her, letting her silent sobs soak into the shoulder of her blouse. Christy felt herself shuddering weakly, and it felt good to let go and let Greta take care of her. After a few moments, the shaking subsided, and she pulled herself together. Greta looked at the flat front of her t-shirt, the straps still in place around her chest. "Did you tell him, this time?" "Yeah." Christy nodded. She could still hear the shouts, the cursing ringing in her ears. "This fox...he was kinda drunk. I guess I was too. We got to his place, and we were kinda fooling around...he was trying to get in my pants. I said, 'I need to tell you something,' and I showed him the toy. "He laughed and said something like he didn't care if I had a small...you know...that we could play with this too, and I said it wasn't quite like that..." She closed her eyes. The disgust on the fox's muzzle was burned into her memory. Fucking hell, you're a girl?? "He got upset...he said I was..." What kind of fucking cunt whore does this? "...he called me names. I thought he was going to hit me, and I started to cry, and then he laughed at me, and said I shouldn't be playing with men. He said he was gonna tell everyone about me." She gulped. I'll make you cry, you bitch. "He threatened me. I was so scared. I ran out..." "Shhh." Greta put her arms around the trembling vixen again. "It's okay, honey, it's okay." Christy leaned into the solid dingo, tail curled tightly around herself. "He said I was cruel, he said..." I guess you did this to laugh at the homos, huh? Did you have a good laugh, bitch? Did you? Gonna go back to all your harpy friends and laugh about how fucking stupid and desperate the faggots are, that they pick up women in drag hoping for a good fuck? Well, don't laugh at me, you hear me? "...he said I was laughing at him." "You remember where he lives?" Greta whispered. "Maybe," Christy said. "I was kinda drunk on the way in, and..." On the way out, she hadn't been paying much attention to anything. She'd briefly felt a flare of anger at the fox, then had felt pity because he was obviously scared too and had lashed out, and then realizing that he was scared because of her had made her cry all over again, and the people on the bus had probably thought she was a crazy homeless person. "Why?" "Cause I'm gonna go over there and kick his red ass from here to Tuesday," Greta said. "Oh, Greta, don't, he's...he didn't mean it, he was just...I mean, I guess I was wrong about them. They have it so hard, and I was just thinking of myself..." "Listen," Greta said, pushing her muzzle back to look at her. "I've been serving 'them,' like you say it, for ten years now, and if I learned one thing, it's that there ain't no 'them' any more than you can talk about all dingoes and say 'them,' or all women and say 'them.' They got one thing in common and that's what they like to do in bed. After that, they're all people, and some have common sense and others don't have the sense God gave a chicken. Some of 'em you'd take home to meet your folks and others need a regular ass-kickin', and it sounds like this guy tonight is one of those kinds. So since I can't count on anybody else to do it right, I'm volunteering to do it myself." Christy giggled shakily and shook her head. "No, it's okay. Leave him be." She nuzzled the dingo. "Thanks. I guess this was all just a mistake." "Oh, I dunno about that. You remember, Christy, you got as much a right to your feelings as he does to his. You were takin' care of yourself, sure, but you were honest with him." "And he blew up at me. And the guy I lied to, he's the one that liked me. What does that tell you about me?" Greta nuzzled her ear. "Nothing at all. 'Cept that your average is up to about 1 in 3 when it comes to pickin' guys." "Alex was nice, but he doesn't really know me," Christy sighed. "Anyway, he's probably moved on already." "I don't know 'bout that," Greta said. "He came by the store tonight asking about you." Christy's ears shot up, then folded back again. "He did?" "Yeah. I told him you were off, to come back tomorrow. I didn't know what you'd wanna tell him. I figured you could put on your disguise, come work the counter tomorrow..." The vixen shook her head. "No. No more disguise." She sighed. "Just...if he comes by, just send him to the store. I'll tell him the truth and then he can go home." "Fair enough." Christy leaned against the dingo. "Now, can you help me get these straps off? I want to get to bed." She tossed and turned before settling into a troubled sleep, but the rest did her some good. In the morning, as she made Tyler's breakfast, her fear and guilt had settled to a low background ache, blending with the pangs she got whenever she looked at Tyler and thought about all the things she couldn't give him, and the worry that it was something she'd done that had driven Mariano away, and the constant awareness that it was her poor business sense that was stopping the store from bringing in more than just enough to get by. This was just one more poor decision in a lifetime of them, and the sooner Alex came by so she could send him on his way, the sooner she could close this brief interlude of remarkable stupidity and go back to her usual garden-variety. All through the morning, she jumped whenever the front door opened. She made Tyler play in the back so she could have privacy, but Alex didn't show up. She ate her sandwich for lunch and then got mired in a busy spell, the Sunday afternoon crowd strolling the Arcade after brunch at one of the cute coffee shops stopping in for anything that looked interesting. Tyler "helped" her bag the purchases by putting them in the bags she held open, and he was a definite draw with the middle-aged women, who cooed over him and told him what a big boy he was and what a help to his mother, and sometimes bought an extra candle out of pity. The crowd thinned, dispersing back to their split-level homes and fancy apartments as the sun went down, as though they were afraid of the dark. Christy had just finished selling a set of scented candles to a buxom wolverine whose shrill voice and sharp teeth and claws had alarmed Tyler. So Christy had sat him on the counter where he could organize the store's business cards and play with the votive candle display, and he was wagging his tail happily when Christy glanced up and saw Alex standing just inside the doorway. They locked eyes and stood that way while she counted off her heartbeats. One. Two. Three. Four. He took a step forward. She reached over to pick up Tyler and said, "Hey, honey, why don't you play in the back for a bit, okay?" "Can I take the cards?" He grabbed a pawful of business cards. "Sure, sure." She set him on the floor and he toddled off to the back room, with a curious glance at Alex. The young fox walked forward, and though he kept his eyes on Christine, she saw his nose react to the scents in the store. "I waited until the store was empty," he said as he got closer, peering at her. "Chris...tine?" "Christy," she said. "To my friends. So, Christy." He nodded. "You know me, right?" "Alex," she said, and then, because he still looked confused, "You know me as Chris. We met at the Spinning Disk." "Okay, okay." He shook his head, and did that cute thing with his ears again, back and forward. She could see him trying to superimpose the Chris from his memory, the toppy fox with the big tool, on this vixen behind the counter of a candle store. "This is just a little weird. But glad to see you got the bandages off." He gestured down at her chest and smiled. "I'm really sorry," she said, ignoring his joke. "I had no right to deceive you." He looked surprised. "I'm not upset." "You're not?" He laughed. "Hell, no. The Disk is all about playing games. You go there for one part of your life, but unless you work there, it's not all your life is. I don't prance around my office raising my tail. So you invented an identity and I liked it. I didn't expect that that was all there was to you, you know." She took a breath. "Well, this is the rest of me. I'm a thirty-year-old divorced vixen. I have a five-year-old cub and I own a candle store." She watched his expression. "And sadly, that is about all there is to my life." "Fair enough," he said. "I'm twenty-seven and I manage a laboratory over at Beacon Chemicals. I like to go to the theater, the gym, and the mall, I love to read books, and once a week I go down to the Spinning Disk for sex." He seemed, incredibly, to want to keep talking to her. "You're twenty-seven? But you said you just graduated." "With my Ph.D." "Oh." Now she felt even more stupid. "That's really impressive." "Not as much as you'd think, but thanks," he said. "I think owning and running a store is impressive. How long have you been running it?" "Six years," she said. "Mostly on my own after the first year. Entirely on my own the last two." He nodded. "Sounds tough. I can understand why you'd want a little excitement." He tilted his muzzle. "But not why you decided to go pick up guys in a gay club." She checked that Tyler was still in the back room, and leaned across the counter, talking softly. "I went out to singles bars around here, but there were never any foxes there; no tods, anyway. The straight ones all get married young. I started to think there weren't any left." "You want more cubs," he said. "No. I mean, maybe, but...I just haven't been with another species in a long time, not since college. I'm comfortable with foxes. I didn't plan for this to be a long term thing, but I don't want to fall for some other species and then have the relationship limited by not being able to have kids, or...well, and then there's Tyler," she said. "Got it," Alex said, and the way he said it and his dark brown intelligent eyes told her that he really did. "So I thought, if there really aren't any straight foxes left, maybe I can meet a nice gay one, and at least have a little fun." He grinned. "We did have fun." "It was partly Greta's idea. She's the owner of the store next door, and she gets a lot of gay customers, so she thought..." "I know," Alex cut her off. "She told me that." "What?" "Just now, before I came over." He flicked his ears, grinning. "She made me promise not to be mean to you. I haven't been, have I? Because even if I don't want to have cubs, I don't want her to do what she was saying she would..." Christy was too startled to laugh. "No, I mean, yes, you've been very nice. She told you?" "She was worried about you." "Yeah." She looked back at him, up into his dark brown eyes, and felt an impulsive urge to kiss him. "Well, now you know. You can walk out the door and I won't be upset. I appreciate you taking it so well." His whiskers twitched. "You know," he said, "I don't come looking for every guy...or woman in drag...I hook up with." She was so afraid of the answer, it took her several seconds to take his lead and ask the question. "So why me?" "I don't know." He spread his paws and lowered his voice, glancing at the back room. "I, uh, hooked up Friday night...this big hyena who left my butt sore and drank all my beer. And yesterday morning I just kept thinking, man, I miss Chris. And I'd always been meaning to come down here anyway, so I thought, if I run into him, great." She missed him, too, but she could barely admit that to herself, let alone him. Instead, she said, "So where does this leave us? I mean, what now?" He rested his elbows on the counter and pressed his paws together. "Well, I'm pretty sure I'm gay," he said. "I, uh, really like...you know, what we did. And there's a couple things that a toy just doesn't work for. But on the other paw, I am a scientist, and a woman who is creative enough to dress up and pass for a man in order to meet gay guys is a pretty interesting phenomenon." He grinned. "I'm also a romantic, in case you couldn't tell from the chick movie posters I have up, and I have a soft spot for a lonely woman with a cute kid. And to top it off, I think you make a fantastic top. Even with your, ah, handicap." His dark eyes met hers and his eyebrows lifted slightly. "So...you tell me, toppy fox. What now?" Christy allowed herself to feel just the barest tinge of warmth. "I think...I don't want you to try to change who you are. And I know there's some stuff I can't do for you." She felt a different kind of warmth as certain thoughts crossed her mind. "But, uh..." Her ears flushed and folded back, and she lowered her muzzle. "What?" he said, showing the merest hint of a grin. "Come on," he said when she shook her head, and whispered, "You've put on a strap-on and stuck it under my tail, you've jerked me off...I don't think anything you say can be more intimate than that." She flushed more at his words, smiling. "I was just gonna say...if you don't mind...I wouldn't mind watching sometime." He laughed, and she loved the sound of his laugh. His ears perked all the way up. "Really?" "Yeah...I watched some movies with my girlfriends in college." She smiled. "Gay stuff. We used to joke about how all the cutest guys were gay. Turns out it wasn't such a joke." Alex grinned, and she heard the motion of his tail wagging. "So maybe you can dress up again, and we can pick up some guy looking for some three-way action?" She let a little giggle out. "Well, if we go on, then there'll have to be some rules." "More rules?" "Well, no more lying and disguises," she said. "For instance, you never told me you were twenty-seven." She looked sternly at him. "And I don't want you pretending you're interested in anything more than a friend to hang out with once a week to pick up guys with. I know you didn't sign up for a cub and all this baggage." Her hand indicated the store. He slid his ears all the way back and then cupped them forward to her. "What if I am interested?" Her heart skipped a beat. She took his clasped paws in hers. "Then you should do something like invite me and Tyler to come to dinner with you." He looked around at the empty store. "When do you close?" "Whenever I want," she said, and twitched her own ears. "I'm the boss, remember?" "How could I ever forget?" he said, and leaned forward, meeting her muzzle halfway across the counter in a kiss. "That's good too," she said when they leaned apart. "Stay right there." He put his paws on the counter. "Promise." She wagged her own tail. "I'll be right back." "Tyler, honey," she said as she walked into the back room, "we're going to dinner with Mommy and Mommy's friend Alex. You go wash your paws and come on out." He had arranged the business cards in a little house, which fell down as he stood up. "Okay, Mommy!" "That was a nice house!" she said. "You'll have to build another one." He smiled, ran to her and hugged her, and then ran off to wash his paws. She watched him go, and went back out to the store. Tyler shook Alex's paw firmly, and though Alex didn't seem to know what to say at first, Christy managed to draw them both into the conversation by telling Tyler that Alex worked in a real laboratory where they made chemicals. Tyler was fascinated, and soon Alex was telling him stories about the time they turned a lizard into a huge monster with their potions, and the time he'd invented a formula that made people super-smart, only it didn't work on foxes because they were already super-smart. Christy watched her son fondly, looked up at the young fox, and thought that she'd been an idiot to lump all gay foxes into one broad group, to think they were all alike, that none of them would be interested in being her friend as well as a quick...well, a quick fuck. At the same time, she was a first-class idiot to think that this had a chance of working out, of anything more than friendship coming from this. But right at that moment, that was the kind of idiot she didn't mind being. No, not at all.