The Pussy's Panties

Story by Duxton on SoFurry

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Since I don't draw all that well, I figured I would write a little 3000 word short for Zaush's #CheetahGirlChallenge on Twitter. Enjoy!


The sky was milk white, broken only by towers of thick, black smoke that rose into the air above the battlegrounds of dystopia. Distant pops of gunfire could be heard calling over the buildings of the decaying, urban metropolis. Somewhere, something exploded. It had to have been near, because Rhett Costello was nearly thrown off his feet on his way through the door of his shoddy, low-rent apartment.

Sighing, Rhett stepped over to the kitchen table and tossed his rifle - an Mk18 Mod 0 CQBR - onto the heavily scratched wooden surface. He pulled out a chair and sat down to tend to a wound on his left forearm, wrapped in an elastic bandage that looked none too sanitary, but the rebels amongst the oppressed citizenry made do with what they could find.

"Anyone see you?" Rosie asked, appearing from the bedroom and leaning on the door jamb. Rhett simply shook his head, a little miffed by the question - she knew better than to ask. Rosie walked over to the table and set her glass down next to the still-hot armament. Rhett, a Doberman, winced as he pulled the bandage away from the clotting wound on his arm; a superficial one, but still nasty enough that it would need treatment lest he risk infection. Rosie, a cheetah, pushed the short glass of cheap vodka across the table to him. He picked it up, took a swig, and dashed the rest of it into the cut on his arm, gritting his teeth behind pursed lips.

Outside, gunfire chattered in the near distance, three blocks away, maybe four. Rosie stood up and walked to the window and leaned on the sill, looking past her reflection in the dirty glass out into the city. Her hair was shorn down to the bare fur on her scalp; flowing locks would only get in the way for a rebel on the front lines.

"It's funny. Trees are one of those things you take for granted without even realizing it. Everyone knows they make oxygen, but you never really think about how vibrant they make the city until they're gone."

Rhett just coughed. He swore Rosie did it to him on purpose. Leaning in front of that window, forearms crossed over the pocked, wooden sill, her perfect ass displayed to him in those tight-fitting, canvas jeans... He grabbed some gauze from a box on the table and frowned at the paltry amount that remained. They'd have to get some more from Tony on their next trek across the concrete jungle.

"What's the latest on the radio?" He asked. Rosie couldn't tell him anything he didn't already know, but it would be something to take his mind off the fact that his sheath was starting to push uncomfortably up against the inside of his underwear.

"Resistance is pushing through. They stormed one of the ration centers this morning, cleaned the fucker out. Tony's sitting on a mother lode. Beans. Rice. I hear he's even got some meat. Don't know what kind though."

"I don't care what kind it is..." Rhett whispered, wrapping the old elastic bandage over the gauze on his arm. Rosie unzipped her hoodie and shrugged it off. He snuck a look at the way that ratty, old tank top framed her C-cup bust, modest, but generous.

"Jerky. Teriyaki flavor. Not my favorite, but it'll do."

"That's all he's got?"

"No, do you want some?"

"Yeah. Please." She tossed the bag to him, and on her way by, Rhett smiled and reached out to grab the strap of her thong underwear, riding up above the top of her jeans. Pulling it, he let go with a laugh and watched it snap back onto her hip.

"Hey!"

"Ha-ha!"

"Ass."

"Yes it is." He grinned devilishly, unabashedly eyeing her firm rear while she walked back into the bedroom, casting a glance over her shoulder at him. Rhett flicked his eyebrows and turned in the chair to face the table, pulling his rifle closer to him. He pulled the receivers apart and slipped the bolt out of the action, his calloused fingers unencumbered by the heat of the steel.

"I bagged a gazelle today." He said loud enough for the cheetah to hear him.

"And you didn't bring it back with you?"

"No, it was a gate guard." Rhett grinned to himself, wiping the firing pin off on an old shop rag, stained with the carbon of rounds long past.

"Oh."

"Must have been four-hundred meters out. Maybe four-fifty, I don't know."

"Bullshit!" Rosie called from the bedroom. Rhett was known for embellishing stories the way fishermen do. Were he to tell the same story three times, the gate guard would gain fifty meters in distance away from him each time.

"True story." He said through a cheek packed with jerky, moving on to the bolt and using a cotton swab to scrub the face.

"Please, I've seen you shoot, you couldn't do that with an M4."

"Oh really? Get me an M4, I'll do twice that."

"If the barrel on that thing was as long as your dick is, I might believe that you made a headshot at four-fifty."

"I never said I made a headshot." Rhett pouted, casting a glance up towards the door while he twisted the cloth-wrapped bolt in between his fingers.

"Hah, tell that story a few more times and I swear you'll be saying you put that bullet through his riflescope. _BOOM!_Headshot!"

Rhett kicked his chair out from behind him and stood up, tossed the bolt onto the table and walked into the bedroom, unbuckling his belt.

"I'll give you a headshot."

Rosie just laughed and turned around with her jeans in her hand, standing there in a hole-ridden, beige tank-top (it used to be white) and a pair of black, thong panties stretched over her drop-dead gorgeous ass and smelling like a hard day's work. Rhett dropped his ragged pants and kicked them off, the bulge in his underwear already straining against the fabric, the head of his half-erect penis neatly outlined in dark blue cotton and spandex blend.

"Oh, and by the way, for your information, the barrel on that Mk18 is ten-point-three inches. Last time I measured this thing..." He gestured emphatically to his ever-growing bulge with both hands, "...solid eleven inches."

Rosie cracked up, "Last time you measured it? What are you, fourteen?"

"No, just horny as fuck. Don't pretend like you aren't, too, I could smell your pussy from the other room!" He grabbed his still-growing girth through the fabric of his underwear and gave it a little shake. Rosie raised her eyebrows and tossed her jeans away.

"Who's pretending?" She winked.

Rhett crossed the room and pulled her into a loose, wet kiss, rich with tongue and rife with fondling. Rosie's petite hands grabbed at the waistband of the Doberman's briefs, pulling them down until they dropped to his ankles, freeing that massive member. Her nimble fingers caressed it teasingly, its throbbing underside pressed tightly up against her midriff, smearing minute strings of pre-cum into her soft fur. Rhett backed her up until she felt the backs of her knees come into contact with the edge of the bed, then, she fell back onto it with a bounce. She crossed her arms in front of her and pulled her tank top off while Rhett licked his chops.

Rosie drew her knees up to her chest and spread her legs as wide as she could, displaying the damp mound of her pussy underneath a pair of black panties that probably had not seen a wash in some time - laundry services were not always easy to come by in the slums, so it was through some luck that she'd managed to find a guy who couldn't resist that scent. Holding those legs wide, Rhett knelt in front of her on the floor, pushing his face into the crotch of her dirty underwear. Eyes closed and breaths choppy and short, he resisted the urge to let his tongue do what it did best. He splayed his hands out on the backs of her thick thighs just beneath her buttocks, using a thumb to rub her tight pucker through the black fabric, and his nose, he buried that cool, wet nub right into the sopping wet center of her panties, pushing them up against her oozing slit.

"Rhett..." She eked out between ragged breathing, her hands exploring her own body, squeezing her breasts and pulling gently at her nipples. No other man she'd ever been with could make her so wet without even taking her panties off first. Rhett smiled and finally allowed himself a lick, dragging his long, rough tongue up the crotch of Rosie's underwear. Between muscular legs, his lengthy cock bobbed and twitched in the air, screaming silently for attention, and quite literally crying. Pre-cum dripped from his swollen tip onto the dusty, wooden floor while he took the panties between his teeth and pulled them away from her glistening sex. Strings of cum stayed attached to the inside of the garment, and Rhett slipped a couple of fingers into the gap, where he began to assault her pussy with his rough pads. Up and down, he went with his finger, making laps around her labia with one finger and slapping two more against her clitoris, all the while keeping those panties clenched tightly between his teeth in a shark's grin. Rosie begged him to slip one or two inside her quivering passage, but her pleas fell on deaf ears.

"Come on...come on...cum for me!" Rhett teased as best as he could with his teeth gnashed and shut tight. Rosie draped an arm over her eyes, shielding light and sight alike with the crook of her elbow while she gripped at the thin, well-worn bed sheets with her free hand. Blushing, she cried out with the onset of a window-rattling orgasm, and Rhett laughed as he let go of her panties, watching them snap back against her pussy while she squirted copiously into them and soaked them in her juices.

"Ha-ha!"

"You...you dick..." Rosie grunted, her chest heaving while she glowered at him for refusing to penetrate her.

"Yes it is!" He repeated from earlier, standing up and gently batting the underside of his pulsating erection against her undies with a wet slap. Just that contact alone made Rosie squirm on the now-wet bed sheets, and all she could do was stare in wanton lust while Rhett slipped the above-average sized tip of his thick member into her soiled slip, the crown of that bulbous glans sliding up and down in the same titillating pattern that his finger had been following just moments before.

"Nnf...I still don't know how you get that thing hard without passing out." She grunted, trying to prop herself up on her elbows but fell gracefully back onto the bed with a soft bounce when the feeling of Rhett's tip penetrating her stole her ability of comprehensive speech. He held the one remaining garment she wore to the side while he pushed and pulled with the first inch of his impressive eleven, allowing her juices to coat his thick flesh for easier entry when it came to laying her with the seven inches or so that would eventually fit. Sometimes, one (or even both) of them came before he could fit it all in, so Rhett always raced his orgasm to her cervix.

With every thrust, he pushed a little deeper, and Rosie whined a little louder. The sheets were balled up in her fists, and her teeth were gritted together in a cocktail of pleasure and pain, the familiar sting of her pussy being stretched by Rhett's endowment a welcome reprieve from the day she'd had. After a while, it didn't hurt as much, and she resigned herself to the pleasure of the fullness that was having his penis inside of her. For Rhett, that was a work in progress; he grunted and gasped, panting softly while she squeezed the first four inches of that thick fuckmeat, sliding easily in and out of her for half a minute's time until the rest finally started to clear. The Doberman felt himself hilt inside of her; the round head of his cock bumped into her cervix, she cried out, and Rhett got his green light. He planted his hands on the bed on either side of her, driving his hips forcefully forward and pulling back slowly with every revolution, listening to the bed rock and creak vociferously over the cheetah's soft moans and mewls. Eventually, the panties began to chafe the side of his cock, so he pulled out, slipped them off (he'd learned long ago not to rip them off - comfortable underwear was not exactly the easiest thing to come by) and instead of tossing them away, pressed them up to his nose while he shoved himself inside her once more, seven inches deep.

Rosie's petite hand gripped the Doberman's muscular forearms, and her pussy gripped his cock while it slipped effortlessly in and out. He used a pattern that teased her mercilessly, but she loved it. He would slip it in deep, pull out, and act as though he was about to plow into her once more, but only push in a quarter to half of the way before pulling back again. It drove her wild. She was still very much in the stage of their romp that she enjoyed the most, where the pain of his initial entry subsided. Rhett was busy sniffing her dirty panties and licking the cum out of them, and Rosie laughed when she realized she was surprised he hadn't chewed them up and swallowed them yet. Typical dog. He never missed a beat in his rhythm though, he just kept on going, pumping his generous length into her as deep as it would go and watching her breasts bounce to the tune of squeaking metal.

Squealing brakes could be heard outside of their run-down apartment building, and Rhett pulled the wadded-up cloth away from his nose, eyes rolling back in a pussy-juice and musk-induced high while he came, shooting his load inside of her with seemingly endless, opaque, warn ropes of semen, flooding her womb until the sheer volume of his cum caused the thick, canine spunk to leak out of her from around his pulsating erection. The Doberman's ears swiveled towards the sound of boots hitting the ground and the speech of soldiers who were none too happy about having one of their gate guards waxed by a sniper.

Rhett furrowed his brow as he slipped his deflating cock out of the cheetah, and climbed onto the bed with her.

"What's going on?" Rosie moaned, rubbing her sore entrance while the big dog's cum bubbled out of it.

"Routine search. Nothing to be worried about..." Rhett insisted, flipping her over on top of him in a sixty-nine position and laughing while she squealed. Rosie opened her short muzzle and wrapped her thin lips around that cock of his, still thick, still long, and still hard enough that she didn't have to hold it up while she sucked the rest of his load out. Rhett buried his muzzle in her naked crotch, slipping his tongue into her pussy to the tune of footfalls in the hallway below. They were both getting a mouthful of his cum; the Doberman bucked his hips, gently pumping the first few inches of his length into her diminutive muzzle and filling it with what remained of his ejaculate while Rosie pushed out as much of that thick cream as she could for Rhett to lap up.

"Okay, I'm done..." Rosie panted from her cum-covered muzzle, letting Rhett's post-climax, swollen member flop out of her mouth and land on his stomach with a wet plap. Rhett swallowed what was left of his seed and nodded, swinging his legs off the bed once Rosie got off of him.

"Property search! Open up!" A loud knocking resounded throughout the apartment, and Rhett's heart sank. Cock swinging, he ran bottomless into the kitchen where he grabbed the disassembled bolt of his rifle and began to reassemble it with shaking hands while the door rattled on its rickety hinges.

"Don't get a brass burn on that cock; it's all you've got going for you!" Rosie called from the bedroom while she got dressed and readied her own armament. Rhett actually stopped and looked indignantly up at the bedroom doorway.

"Yeah, well, if it weren't for that ass, I wouldn't look twice!" He shouted back, slapping the rifle shut and loading a magazine into the receiver. Rhett hit the deck with his bare ass just as the door flew off the hinges, and he unleashed a volley of gunfire on the first goon that stepped across the threshold. Plaster, sheetrock, and wood splintered and flew everywhere in choking clouds of dust in the wake of the gunfire, and the Doberman rushed into the bedroom to grab some pants. Rosie was dressed and ready to go, backpack slung and pistol at the ready for anyone else who might come through that door.

"That thing soft enough for you to fit it in your pants yet?"

"Now's not the time, Rosie!"

"Well get on with it, then!" She ordered, and the dog pulled his pants on, zipping them up with care before grabbing his backpack and rifle and following the cheetah out the door.

"Wait, hold up!"

"What?"

"I gotta grab something!" Rhett backtracked.

"Well_hurry!_"

Rhett nearly tripped over the bodies of the goons he'd just slacked on his way back into their apartment, but once there, he dashed into the bedroom and rifled through the bed sheets until he found what he was looking for. Cheetah panties. Grinning like an idiot, he stuffed them into his pocket and ran back out into the hall to Rosie calling his name.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!"

"Again?"

"Shut up."

~FIN~

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