Comfortable Sins
This much he could tell from where he stood: Mahira was in trouble.
With her tail tucked against the backs of her legs and her ears lying over her head scarf, Mahira could do nothing but dart her eyes from one to the other. The quartet before her had cornered her between two tables and the wall at her back, suffocating her with their closeness.
Jaheem crossed the room in moments, moving in behind the small mob. An ear twitched as he drew close enough to pick up the conversation.
"... surprised they let girls go to school." Faux-politeness colored each word coming from a sheep whose stance was much straighter and smile sharper than her peers, eyes dead-set on their target.
To her right, a collie tossed her hair and smiled to Mahira a little less predatorily. "How come you got your hair covered by the um-" Stuttering, her paws made up the effort by gesturing to the scarf under laid back ears. "That." Compared to the others, it was friendly.
From the sheep's other flank, a squirrel peeked through her blonde bangs and chimed in. "My daddy says they all wear bed sheets where you're from."
"Christians wear sheets when they burn crosses," Jaheem growled out. The exoticly accented words cut through the deep southern drawl that had muddied the air.
While Mahira's ears stood up, the mob before her turned with varying shades of surprise and anger. They had to look up to meet the jackal's dark eyes, as with the addition of ears, he loomed over them. For a moment the sharp, angular lines of his cheeks and muzzle were twisted in annoyance before he carefully eased back down.
Snorting, the sheep shot back, "That's not funny." Her arms shifted, moving the bible cradled within from a teddy bear hug to the position of a shield.
"No, it is not," Jaheem agreed. "And no, they do not wear burqas in Chicago."
Blinking, the collie chipped in. "Chicago? But y'all talk funny."
"People here talk funny to me."
"Well, my daddy says that Islams beat their wives cause their Idol god don't love females."
As though her words had forgotten to close the door on the way out, the squirrel's mouth hung open. Blue eyes bugged before they tried to hide behind her bangs, shielding her from the suddenly silent, staring crowd. For a moment, the only sound came from the din of the cafeteria and the clatter of trays.
"Abbie," came the scolding whisper from within the mob's ranks, a tabby that had until now been watching the verbal tennis match from Abigail's side.
Jaheem's nostrils flared a moment. "Who is your ‘daddy' and what makes you think he knows his ass from a gutter?" Mahira circled around the four to step up beside the other jackal, laying her paw on his forearm.
The sheep swooped in before Abigail could finish groping for an answer. Managing to look down at Jaheem while gazing upwards, the sheep replied with a proud presentation of her Bible. "He's Reverend Stevens." All the credentials in the world were clutched in the tone of those three little words.
"And?"
Finally the reverend's daughter found something coherent to say, "W-Well, he's my daddy, and he went to seminary and he... he knows things! And the news..."
Jaheem snorted.
On either side, collie and tabby had begun to drift from their friends, orbiting the jackals. Glancing from one Muslim to the other, the collie lifted a floppy ear and tried another defusing smile. "I'm sure they don't really do that where y'all are from." After a moment, "I mean from from, not just from you know, up North."
"Look at her," spat the sheep with a smile shown to her friends. "She's hiding behind him. Looks like she's been hit a time or two."
"Why, are you jealous?"
Confusion swept the ranks, but it was the tabby who took the bait. "Do what?" It was the jackals' turn to look confused, until the tabby rephrased the regional colloquialism. "What do you mean?"
"Well," Jaheem offered as he put hands in his pockets, "Christian men beat their women because they can ask forgiveness tomorrow, and because the cross zombie does not hate beer. The females feel guilty because their husbands do not love them. Muslim women don't have that guilt. They know what to expect from their husbands."
Were it possible, the jackals would have been melted under the fury of the mob's glare. Perhaps it was the "cross zombie", or the insult of repentance, but they were over taken by backswept ears, a few bared teeth, some four letter words, and at least one or two references to the devil.
The lunch bell tolled.
Dispersing with harsh sways to tails, a muttered chorus of "Can you believe", the mob was gone.
Turning, Mahira gave her brother a tight hug. He brushed a hand along the sandy fur of her arm as he pulled back, hoisting up his book bag, and turned toward his next class. Except that his ear turned back, catching through the din of the clearing lunch room, the distinct sound of clapping. A sideways glance caught the trio two tables down, the misfits, giving golf claps and thumbs up.
"Hey man," called one of them, a thick-around-the-middle rat . "You two sit with us tomorrow, kay?"
Jaheem and his sister could do nothing but smile on the way to class.
* * *
Home wasn't but a mile and a half from the school - one of the selling points of the house in the first place. While their father took them to school on the way to work, the two would then walk home. It had become a habit back in Chicago.
Tires easing across the pavement and the thrum of a motor coaxed Jaheem's ear backwards. Mahira and her brother glanced over their shoulders; a pretty little SUV crawled behind them. After the two scooted closer to the curb, the red road tank slithered forward to pull up beside them.
Once the window was rolled down, Abigail stuck her head out and called chipperly, "Hey y'all."
Thinking it wiser, Jaheem put his arm around his sister's shoulder and nudged her forwards.
From the new tone of the squirrel's voice, she was almost hurt. "Hey now, don't be like that. Ain't your name Mehura?"
That garnered a glance sideways from the female. Looking back at her brother, she finally turned to the squirrel and smiled with hesitation. "It's Mahira."
"Oh, sorry." Abigail's smile lit her face, sending dimples over her puffy cheeks.
Jaheem finally turned his head, keeping his voice more neutral than his eyes. "Shouldn't you be in some Bible Study or church singing practice or something?"
"I skipped." For a second she almost giggled, but then her words turned serious again. "Listen, I wanted to apologize. Especially to you, Mahira. Beth Anne's sometimes, uh.. a little enthusiastic about God. We was mean. My daddy says when you know you done wrong you ought to face it, and I didn't mean for it to get so rude."
Mahira smiled, and her tail actually began to tick back and forth a hint. "Thank you," she returned with a bob of her muzzle. Jaheem merely watched, though his expression softened a hint.
"You wanna ride home?"
Mahira didn't look for permission. "Sure."
For a moment Jaheem stood there, watching his sister circle around the SUV. At last he called out "Shotgun!" Her bark of displeasure brought a smile as he hurried after, pulling open the passenger seat to toss his bag inside.
A Jesus on the dash stared back at him. Tall ears could pick up country music turned down to mere whispers. He couldn't help but roll his eyes and wonder where her religion ended and her personality began. At least he had a life.
"You said you was from Chicago?" asked Abigail as she started back down the road. "Hear it's cold up there."
Mahira poked her head between the bucket seats. "Oh yeah."
"Oh yeah," agreed the boy as he adjusted his seatbelt. "Real shock after moving from Turkey."
Abigail blinked, glancing sideways. "Really?"
Jaheem sat back and got situated. "We moved when I was nine and she was six. Our father got a job here in the States. That is why we moved here; he was relocated to the plant." He glanced aside. "By the way, they do not wear burqas in Turkey either."
"Oh," said Abigail. "You all settled in here?"
A moment of hesitation was followed up with a shrug on Jaheem's part. "We're moved in for the most part, sure. It's just... different."
Abigail stared off out the window, pushing a bit of hair out of her eyes. "Yeah. Must be pretty hard being here, no body respecting what you believe, expecting you to believe in Jesus."
"But we do!" barked Mahira with enough suddenness and force to draw both sets of eyes to her. "Jesus is in the Qur'an. He is portrayed as Allah's â€" God's â€" most beloved messenger, a precursor to Muhammad, who was sent as a guide for the Children of Israel. He's just not the focus, and not the Son of God, according to Muhammad."
Silence prevailed for a few moments. Then Abigail coughed, smiled into the rear view, and offered, "Oh. Well, that sounds right nice then."
"Turn down here," Jaheem directed. The flow of conversation was faint; Abigail asked what teachers they had, and shared what she'd heard or whose class she had been in before. Then the jackal pointed down a cul-de-sac and said, "Third house on the left."
The SUV pulled up to the curb in front of the little ranch-style house common in the area. Mahira was all ready sliding out as Jaheem reached for the door latch.
Abigail touched his arm. "You uh, you wanna hang out?"
The jackal looked back at with a wary eye. "You want to hang out with me?"
"Sure," she said. "You're nice." A sweet, buck-toothed smile backed up her assurance. He might have been wrong, but her smile didn't match the way she was looking at him; strong eye contact, her lashes low. The corner of her smile perked.
"I do not know..." Looking out the window, Jaheem spotted his sister at the front door, looking back at him. It occurred to him then that he had the front door key. "Where do you want to go?"
"My house?"
Still apprehensive, the jackal slid out of the tank of a car and unearthed the keys from his pocket. Tossing the keys up onto the porch, he called to his sister, "Tell mother I'll be back later."
She scooped them up off the porch and gave him a sour look. "Fine."
Sliding back into place in the seat, Jaheem turned to find the squirrel grinning at him. "Thought for a second you weren't gonna go."
"I was not," he retorted as he clicked the seatbelt.
As she put it in gear, Abigail peered over at him. "Then why'd you get back in?"
A sly expression filtered across Jaheem's face, but he didn't answer. Truth be told, he was curious what she was up to. Just before the car pulled back on to the main road, he managed to look back and catch sight of his sister standing on the porch, watching them roll out of sight.
* * *
With a "You want a coke?" Abigail deviated from heading straight to her house. They weren't at the local ice cream shop long; in fact, Abigail suggested he stay in the car, which Jaheem did, waiting for her to bring back his ice cream cone.
The side trek added to Jaheem's suspicion. At a red light, Abigail made eye contact with him and began to slowly bob her head on the straw of her strawberry milkshake, the squirrel's cheeks denting in as she watched him. Then her tongue darted over her lips, and she gave him one of those buck toothed grins, before putting the vehicle in gear. While reaching for the stick, she brushed her fingers by his thigh. To top it all off, she asked, "So, you don't like any girls yet?" When he asked why, her only reply was another smile and to return her attention to the road.
Being a Christian holy man must pay a lot, thought Jaheem, as they rolled into Abigail's driveway. The home was more impressive than his, and that was with his father making a considerable salary. In addition to a big garage and porch, the house had rose bushes and a clean, landscaped yard.
"Can I get you anything?" asked Abigail as she led him inside.
The ice cream had left a sugary sting to his teeth. "Just some water." She walked into the kitchen while he loitered just outside of the kitchen.
"Sit down in there," directed Abigail, as she brought him his glass. "I gotta get something."
Jaheem sat on a couch that, by the feel of it, hadn't been sat on all that much; it matched the room. Figurines, flower vases, family portraits, and expensive furniture sat around, placed symmetrically, pristine and clean. It didn't feel lived in at all. He was afraid the glass of water might tarnish the spotless coffee table he'd sat it on.
The whisk of paws on carpet turned his head to the door. Abigail stepped inside, a slow, toothsome smile on her features. She had combed her hair into a froth, the locks bubbling over the shoulders of her pink smiley-face t-shirt. Said shirt was old and well-worn, large so that it tumbled down to her bare thighs. It was all Jaheem could tell she was wearing.
Abigail padded over, knocked two pillows off the couch, and settled down right next to him, partially curling up. Legs slid underneath her, while the puffy brush of her tail swayed over her hip to flutter near his lap, before bobbing against the couch beside her. The girl's small, perky breasts pushed against her thin shirt, and Jaheem couldn't help but notice the slight nubs of her nipples through the worn-thin cotton.
At some point, he found the wherewithal to look up, and found her blue eyes watching him. She knew he was staring, and the fact made his ears fold.
The girl sweetly smiled before leaning forward to brush her nose against his cheek, breathing in his scent and churring. Behind, her tail gave an excited little bouncing shake.
He actually pulled back, peering back at Abigail with a bit of incredulity. She lifted her ears. The jackal finally asked, "What do you think your daddy would say?"
Abigail giggled. The sound was low and soon muffled as she nosed at his shoulder again. Tilting her head to look up into his eyes, she reached up and stroked his chest, tracing little circles. "My daddy says a lot of things. Don't mean I always listen."
She didn't notice when his ears flicked back a moment, before easing back to a normal position. Jaheem shouldn't have been surprised; this wasn't the first time he'd gotten a girl's attention for being exotic and "bad".
So he felt justified when he tilted his head, leaned in, and kissed the squirrel. She immediately kissed him back. His muzzle tilted, trying to mesh with her smaller one; it didn't quite work. But she took to his tongue eagerly, the two lengths batting and flirting. His shined across Abigail's front tooth, impressed with its size. She squirmed, rubbing her body against him.
Suddenly she grabbed his paw, and lifted it up to press into one of her pert breasts. The jackal was all too willing to squeeze the offered mound. He even brought up his other paw, and worked her chest while the two worked lips against one another.
One of Jaheem's paws deviated, sliding down her flank and around to cup the tight curve of her perky ass. As she rolled her hips back and ground against his grasp, the jackal discovered she was wearing panties. His finger traced the line as it arched across one of her cheeks, bisecting it in a horizontal arc. Excited, his paw came around the front, to find that the underwear came down along the front of the thigh in the front, like little shorts. His tail wagged behind him; Jaheem adored boyleg panties.
The kiss broke with her giggling at him. She sat back and pushed at his paws, getting his attention. Looking into his eyes, her lips pulled back into an almost apologetic smile. "You ain't gonna get to heaven."
The jackal's eyes crinkled at the edges, and as her words sunk in, he sat up and glared at her. Teeth shown for a moment, his tail snapping back and forth, eyebrows narrowed.
For a second, Abigail blinked. "Sorry, I'm just..." Then her eyes bugged out. "Oh no, no! I didn't mean it like that! Just you ain't getting up in my cozy. I'm saving for marriage."
There was a heaven and virgins joke he could have made, but wisely Jaheem just dropped his tail a hint, expression drooping. "Should I stop?"
"Nah." That dimpled smile swept across her face, but a particular alluring tinge took it over, making her big blue eyes shine with an all too adult light. "I do everything else." Laughing at the sudden look of incredulousness, "Jesus loved and forgave a hooker; he can forgive as long as I save myself."
She leaned in to kiss him, murmuring in between the dueling of lips, "Besides, I want a happy husband and lotsa babies. Gotta make sure I know how to make a man happy." Her fingers slid along his pants, squeezing the fierce erection inside. The motion earned a sudden, eager bucking up against her paw and a wurf from the jackal.
Grabbing at the hem of her shirt, Jaheem pulled upwards. The kiss ended for a moment, long enough for the shirt to slide up over her head, before her mouth was back on his. He played with her tits, squeezing the small mounds together and twisting her nipples. Abigail moaned and unzipped his pants, fishing around inside before squeezing his wet shaft.
She dragged it out, exposing the hot, red length to the air. It was wet with a constant trickle of pre, shining in the sunlight filtering through the blinds. A wet schluck slp filled the air as her paw pumped a steady beat over it, the flesh swaying around in her grasp before it was squeezed hard enough to coax Jaheem into a whimpering little squirm.
The jackal eased out of the kiss with a pant. "So... so, if you're saving yourself, then what can we do?"
Leaning back, Abigail smiled at him with shining eyes, her dimples showing. "I can put you in my mouth?"
The response from Jaheem was a nudge towards the floor.
Abigail leaned over Jaheem's lap as she sank down to her knees, dragging the fluff of her bellyfur over his prick. First she smooshed his arousal between her breasts; the act didn't do much, but it looked hot, earning her a tongue-lolled pant for her efforts.
Then she leaned down and lazily licked over his tip. Jaheem quivered as he watched. Each pass she used her neck, pushing at him, before the motion ended in an audible slurp. The canine's tail thumped a rapid beat against the couch as he arched. The motion stopped suddenly as he sank into Abigail's mouth, leaving him stretching out under her affection.
Her lips sealed behind the head of his cock, and for a moment she sucked tightly, so much so her cheeks dimpled inwards. He barked in the intense, pain-like pressure. Finally she eased off, puffing out her cheeks a moment before pushing his shaft inside â€" and into the inside of a cheek. The chubby exterior poked out even more as she stretched the flesh around him and tugged playfully, before lifting up.
Once more his tip was captured in her mouth before he felt a slight, muffled click - just then, the flat surface of her big front teeth started to grind against his tip, rubbing in short little scrubs as her chin bounced. Jaheem could feel the grooves between her teeth brush against him like ridges, but the overall friction and pressure of her head nudging down made his back arch and his thighs tense.
An electronic chirping began to squeak with annoying frequency. Jaheem jerked his hand down and clicked off the alarm of his watch.
Abigail stopped her sucking and lifted her head. "What's that for?" In the absence of her mouth, his dick was treated to a quick pumping from her paw. He glanced away, and nudged against her fingers. Curious, the squirrel eased her paw away from his shaft. "C'mon."
Ears folded back, he glanced aside. "The alarm tells me when I should pray."
Dipping back down, her tongue swirled around the tip of his shaft, before she gave it the cutest little nursing. Several seconds passed, before she eased off again. "If you pray to that Allan guy, I'm gonna stop." Another lick, this time from the opening of his sheath, all the way to the little slit in his tip. "What you love more, your God or my mouth?"
Jaheem grunted, his teeth bared a moment. He grabbed her by her hair and pushed her face back onto his shaft. The squirrel let out a muffled, high-pitched grunt, and eagerly went down on him, her cheeks puffing up as she sucked. While he held her, his paw dug around in a pocket, fishing out his phone.
It was three or four seconds after the grinding metallic sound came from somewhere in the house that ears shot up from both of them. Abigail jerked her head up with a gasp. "Shit! That's my daddy!"
A panicked run through the house, Abigail dragging Jaheem by the shirt, brought him into her bedroom. He was immersed in a sea of pink before being pulled into an adjoining bathroom. The door closed just as somewhere, a door banged.
"Abbie!" called a voice.
They huddled together in the bathroom, holding their breaths, listening desperately over the sound of rapid heartbeats. Footsteps drawing closer brought a mutual tremor of fear.
Then Jaheem turned to her and acted. Even later, when he would recollect, he wouldn't be able to figure why he did it, be it the adrenaline, desperation, or impulse in his unthinking state he didn't prevent. He grabbed Abigail, forcibly leading her to the bathroom's counter, pressed her front up against it, and then the jackal leaned over her, bending the girl over the sink.
She, trying with all her might to not make a sound, couldn't resist. The flat-eared, wide eyed look she threw over her shoulder was words enough.
"Abie-girl?" called a voice from just beyond the squirrel's bedroom. "Where you at?"
Abigail swallowed and shuddered. The jackal's fingers slid into the waistband of her panties. "I-In here, daddy." As footsteps came closer to the door, she suddenly yelled, "Don't come in! I'm... I'm having girl problems!"
Her father's recoil from the door was audible.
Jaheem pulled her underwear downwards, dragging them over her thighs before he let them fall, his breath held the whole way.
"Uh, well me and your momma are gonna have supper at Crombie's at five. The one downtown. You coming?"
With her ripe backside and moist loins bared, the jackal rubbed her mound with two fingers in a tight little circle. The other paw shamelessly gripped her ass. Only then, with careful breaths, did he detect the scent of arousal.
Taking a shaky breath, Abigail began, "I wan-" but her words bottomed out into a groan as the jackal slid two fingers across her opening. He found that she was, in fact, a virgin. So instead he rubbed in a tight little circle around her labia.
"You okay baby?"
"Yes!" She squeezed her thighs together, the motion preventing Jaheem's paw from moving. "J-Just girl problems." In the mirror she winced a look of pleading and fury.
Instead of trying to fight the clamp of her legs, he slid his paw backwards. Spreading her cheeks, the jackal rubbed his wet fingers around her back door. Gazing back at her in the mirror, he mouthed the words, "I'm going to fuck you," as he began to work a moist digit under her tail.
He watched her bite her lip, and could feel her whole body tense. "Okay daddy," called her shaky voice. "I'll um, I'll meet y'all there?" She was snug, but he had the impression that this wasn't the first thing that had been inside of her. Jaheem began to finger her.
"Okay. I'm going to pick up your momma." The words were uncomfortable and rushed. The footsteps started towards the hall.
Abigail shot a withering look at him in the mirror. She took a deep breath and said, "Daddy?" When the footsteps stopped, "Can I invite a boy to supper?"
"What's his name?"
The jackal slid his forefinger out, and began to feed her his middle digit. Abigail shook as she managed out, "Jaheem Mohammad Al-Zeehar." His finger began a swift plunging, interspersed with some screwing of his wrist.
He could hear the sour expression through the door. "Do what?"
"W-What's wrong daddy?" she managed to say without a tremor in her voice, even as Jaheem curled his finger up and stirred his wrist, hard.
"That uh, that sounds like an A-rab name."
With teeth bared, he yanked his paw from her before grabbing her by the bushy tail. Her gasp was small, but the squirrel's grip on the sink was for dear life. Jaheem gripped his shaft with a free paw and pressed the pre-slick tip against her ring. The squirrel's tail quivered in his grasp, sending the fluff into a whisk against his shirt.
Abigail breathed hard through her nose. "It is, daddy." He heard a quake in her tone as he began to nudge and push, his tip sinking into her.
Her father must have taken her tone to be fear, because he offered gently, "He's not a Muslim, is he?"
"Y-Yes," she sighed out low. Jaheem hitched his pelvis, inching deeper.
"I'll have a talk with him," said her father, before he stomped off, doors banging in his wake. The two held their breaths, listening for the front door slamming. A tense minute passed in total silence, the house still around them.
The silence broke with Abigail moaning from her diaphragm, her back arching while she rocked her hips side to side. The jackal pushed in, pulled back a tad, and eased forward, slipping in a little further. Several seconds of this passed, until his crotch almost brushed her upraised bottom.
Then Jaheem leaned over and growled into her ear as he grinded himself up against her ass. "That's Zaheer, you hillbilly."
"You gonna teach me how to talk, raghead, or-" Whatever she was going to say was cut off with a shriek as the jackal yanked back, then slammed into her, the sound spiced with pain amid the full-throated pleasure.
There was no further conversation.
Jaheem's hips slid back, his paws spread to get a good grip on the tiles, and he began a swift, pistoning rhythm. Abigail pressed her paws to the shiny glass and arched mightily, her face in the mirror wrenched in satisfaction. She wailed. "Oh, Jesus." Her backside squeezed Jaheem when he sank to the hilt, clutching him desperately on each backswing, until he was just about to push in again. Then her thighs would flex, jutting her back to meet the oncoming canine.
With each mutual gasp and groan the pace increased, until the two moved in vicious concert. The collision of his crotch against Abigail's ass married with the rattle of the sink and all the fur care products piled on it, the fucking punctuated by the slap of his nuts against her thigh. Still the motions grew wilder; Jaheem leaned over, bit her scruff, and barely pulled out before shoving himself inside.
The knot at the base of his prick had thickened, and now the jackal was just popping the bulb in, before wriggling his hips until he worked it out. Abigail squealed each time it breached her anus, her interior immediately clenching down on Jaheem, forcing out a hiss through the squirrel's scruff.
Then, on one of the backward pulls, Jaheem suddenly arched, the flesh throbbing with demanding intensity. He could feel the pressure, and immediately began to push forward, to try and wedge it as deep as he could get, while his hips writhed desperately. Several moments of the urgent squirming commenced, before his back seized up, and he let loose a bark into the squirrel's scruff. Come exploded into her ass. He thrashed, each motion yanking at the tie, wringing little squeaks of painful enjoyment from Abigail.
Like a flash in the pan, it was over. Jaheem laid on Abigail, his hips twitching with the puttering spurts at the end of his orgasm. As he released her scruff, panting against her shoulder, Abigail churred and they rested for several long moments.
Then Jaheem lifted up his phone.
In the mirror, Abigail could see the pictures reflected back to her. The jackal's cock between her tits. Her underwear around her ankles. Tail hiked and mound glistening. Him mounting her. An open-mouthed, eye-clinched look of bliss on her face in the mirror.
Abigail's eyes grew to the size of doorknobs.
"If you or your friends so much as flatten your ears at my sister or me again, I swear I will stick copies of these on every car windshield at your church on a Sunday morning. What do you think your ‘daddy' would say about sodomy for Jesus?"
Except for the shuddering and a sharp, fearful breath, no answer came.
"Understand?"
Were it not for his large ears, Jaheem just may have missed the whispered, "Yes."
The two spent the rest of the time tied in silence.