A Roo'd Awakening: Chapter Five

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Why did you let Ruby convince you this was a good idea? It was, without a doubt, the most risque thing you’ve ever done in public. All you could do was cross your fingers and hope nobody was within earshot to hear you and Ruby behind these flimsy, cardboard thin walls.

“That jacket would look a whole lot better on the floor than on you, you know that?”

You almost choke on your own spit upon hearing her words. “D-do you even know what you’re saying?”

She stares up at you in confusion. “Yeah, it’s fuckin’ ugly, hurry up and take it off already.”


Despite trying to angle and reposition yourself so you can better fit in the tight hole, you've made little in the way of progress. “Fuck, why is this so hard?”

Any trace of Ruby’s initially excited expression was now gone, replaced by a bored and unamused look. “Look mate, you've been trying to shove it in there for ten minutes now. Just give it a rest already.”

“I’m not giving up that easy. It’s going to fit, just... gotta....”

As you continue trying to force your arm into the jacket’s sleeve, you feel the material give way and rip.

“Now look at what you’ve done, you fuckwit!”

You quickly look down at your side and curse once you see the massive gash you’d created in the material. “Goddamn it, now I have to pay for it.”

She shakes her head knowingly. “Told you it wasn’t going to fit.”

Clothes shopping had never been something you particularly enjoyed doing, and making a fool out of yourself only helped cement your feelings on it. It was something you avoided doing if you could help it, buying clothes maybe once or twice a year, or whenever the situation called for it. Unfortunately, the favor Kevin had asked of you was one of these situations, not wanting to show up under-dressed to a fancy dinner date. Whatever formal clothes you had at home were nowhere near appropriate attire for an occasion like that, either no longer fitting you properly or being so outdated they would be an embarrassment to wear.

So here you were, crammed into a tiny department store dressing room with Ruby. You’d had the bright idea to ask her along for a second opinion while you tried on some dress shirts and jackets, not trusting your own tastes. The attendant seemingly hadn’t minded that the two of you were in the same dressing room, though they did check in on you frequently to make sure you weren’t up to no good. “Sir, everything alright in there?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine, just some... technical difficulties,” you call out in response.

“If you need anything, just give me a shout,” the attendant replied.

Ruby quietly snickered at your response. “So, how are you going to explain you ripped a jacket that was clearly too small for you?”

You took off the now ripped jacket, folding it and placing it in a separate pile. “Look, if I wanted my mom along to help me out, I would’ve called her instead.”

“You’re the one who called me asking for help, cunt!” She poked at your chest as she spoke, your response seemingly striking a nerve. “I could be at home sleeping in or working out right now if you hadn’t called me begging for help.”

You couldn’t but roll your eyes at that last bit, though you still felt a bit bad for throwing a wrench into her plans. “Oh come on, it was not begging.”

“Says you, I know what I heard, dork,” she says, taking the jacket in hand, doing a much better at folding it than you had before setting it down again. “Hurry up and try something else on so we can get out of here, it feels like I’m in a sauna right now.”

“Hey, if you didn’t want to come along all you had to do was say no, I wasn’t going to force you to tag along.”

You began undoing the buttons on your dress shirt, before quickly realizing you didn’t have anything on underneath. “You want to turn around for a second?”

A confused look flashes over her features, quickly disappearing once she finally understands what you meant. “For what? You think I haven’t seen a human shirtless before?”


She glares at you in response. “Just hurry up and change your shirt already. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, mate.”

In an attempt to tease her, you lock eyes with her as you slip on the new dress shirt, tensing your arm and chest muscles as you slowly do up the buttons. You can’t help but smile as you watch her eyes dance over your torso. “What’s the matter? See something you like?”

“N-no, just finish putting on the shirt already, arsehole,” she says, averting her gaze as a rosy blush shines through her furred cheeks. “I don’t feel like being crammed in here with you all day.”

“Hey, I did say you could wait outside if you wanted,” you say, turning to admire yourself in the mirror. “How’s this one look?”

“It’s nice, but don’t you think it might be a bit too small?” she laughs, running her hands over the breast of the shirt to smooth out the wrinkles. “Seriously mate, if you bend down or flex in that thing, you’re liable to take someone’s eye out.”

You quickly throw on the black blazer she’d picked out for you. “Something tells me you just want to see me try more shirts on. What do you think of this though?”

“I think it suits you, but not with that shirt,” she says, rummaging through the pile of clothing for a moment before handing you another shirt. “Here, try this one on. I think it’ll look better with that blazer.”

Your lower lip tightens into a smirk, looking down at her before reaching to undo the buttons on your shirt again. “You going to turn around this time or are you going to keep enjoying the free show?”

“Oh, fuck you,” she says, covering her eyes. “Go on then.”

“No peeking,” you tease, quickly unbuttoning your shirt and throwing on another. “Alright, you can look now. Better?”

She uncovers her eyes and stops for a moment to look over the shirt. “It doesn’t look like you’re going to hulk out this time, so it’s a start.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You grin. “Now I just need to try out all these pants, so you should probably wait outside.”

“I uh, yeah- sure, I’ll uh- wait outside for you then,” she says, tripping over her words as she awkwardly shuffles past you to leave.

You start to speak again, stopping her dead in her tracks for a moment, “Unless you’re looking to shell out for the private dance, that is.”

She flips you the bird over her shoulder as she leaves the dressing room. “Ass.”

You breathe a sigh of relief as she leaves you to your own devices, quickly removing your jeans. You were thankful that it was easy to convince her to leave, the particularly tight pair of boxer briefs you’d chosen to wear today would’ve meant giving her quite the eyeful otherwise. Even if she had chosen to stay, you had no doubt in your mind that she wouldn’t be able to resist peeking between her fingers.

You opt to throw on the black dress slacks first, figuring it’d match the blazer Ruby had chosen for you. Once you got a good look at yourself in the mirror, you had to admit she had some pretty good taste in clothing, looking incredibly sharp in the ensemble. After making some adjustments, you walk out of the dressing room and assume an elegant pose, stuffing your hands into your pant pockets. “So, what do you think?”

She slowly circles you, closely examining every aspect of your getup, adjusting your sleeves and smoothing out every wrinkle in the fabric. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think she was using the wrinkles as an excuse to cop a feel. This suspicion was only confirmed once you felt her hands start to linger around your arms and chest. You’d be lying if you said the attention didn’t bolster your confidence.

“Looks good, though you should probably try on the other pants just in case.”

You went back into the dressing room, coming back out sporting a gray pair of dress slacks. “Better or worse?”

“I honestly think those look better with the black blazer, mate.”

“Alright, guess I’ll go with these then,” you say. “Don’t want to keep you here too much longer if you have places to be.”

“I actually don’t mind being here that much...” she says, sheepishly scratching at the back of her head. “Look, I’m sorry if I came off like a bit of an arsehole earlier, I honestly didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Look, don’t worry about it,” you say with a smile. “Should probably go get changed though, I’m dying to get out of here.”

You walk back into the dressing room, quickly changing back into your street clothes before collecting all the strewn about clothing. As you walk past the attendant on your way to the register, you hand him the clothes you didn’t want. Paying for the torn jacket was going to be a heavy hit to your wallet, but it was the right thing to do. Once you a good look at the total, you just about had a stroke. Nearly two hundred dollars for clothes you were maybe going to wear once. If you were lucky, you’d get to use them at a future job interview. Well, if they ever called you back, anyways.

“So, what do you even need these clothes for anyways?” she asks, looking down at the bag in your hand. “Planning on going to a wedding or something?”

“Just something I got roped into doing for a friend, nothing major,” you say.

”Oh yeah, like what?”

You clear your throat before deepening your voice as best you can to respond. ”Sorry ma’am, but I’m afraid that’s classified information.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at your choice of words. “Anon, ice cream scooper by day, international man of mystery by night.”

”Why are you laughing?” you ask, looking down at her as you walk side by side. “How do you know it’s not true?”

“Let me put it this way, mate,” she says. “You’d be the first secret agent to get manhandled by a woman.”

”Oh come on, that’s not even fair,” you whine. “I got no sleep the night before and on top of that, you snuck up on me, remember?”

You quickly realize the importance of the words you’d just let slip, shutting up in the hopes that she wouldn’t pick up on it. It was unreasonable to think she’d know how terribly you slept that night, but that didn’t stop you from worrying about it.

“Excuses. Bet you slept like a baby with how much of a sweat you were working up that day,” she says, poking at your side. “So, what now, Anon?”

“Was planning on spending the rest of the day working on the old junker,” you say. “Though I did want to grab something to eat first.”

“Mind if I tag along? Been meaning to learn how to do that stuff on my own,” she asks, her stomach grumbling as she does. “Skipped breakfast too, so I wouldn’t mind taking you up on the food thing either.”

“Want to grab something from the food court or head somewhere else?” you ask. “I’m game for just about anything right now.”

“How about we grab pizza at Sammy’s again?” she asks. “Not too far from your house, I hope.”

“Nah, it’s actually pretty close, and pizza does sound pretty good right now,” you say. “I’m only on my... fourth cheat meal this week.”

She can’t help but roll her eyes as she shakes her head. “I’m glad our morning jogs are being put to such good use.”

The two of you make your way to the exit, walking through the mall at a brisk pace. You couldn’t help but be a bit surprised that she wanted to spend her Saturday morning tagging along on your errands, but you weren’t going to complain about having some company. With clothes for the dinner date sorted out, you were going to spend the rest of the day making sure your car wasn’t going to break down on the way there.

With that out of the way, there was only one more thing left on your mental checklist: Finding a date to bring along. It was proving to be a difficult task, proposing the idea to every woman you still kept in contact only yielding a “maybe?” or two at best. You’d be lying if you said Ruby wasn’t coming up more frequently as a potential option in your mind, the pressure to actually find someone mounting with each passing day. It wasn’t that she was a bad option either, but asking someone you’ve barely known for a few days if they wanted to go on a double date sounded like a recipe for disaster. Then again, considering you were asking strangers from Tinder the same thing, your excuse didn’t make much sense. Even though you were entertaining the idea, you’d promised yourself to only ask her to come along as a last resort.

“Goddamn it, why is it so c-cold today?”

You’d been giving the whole situation so much thought that before you knew it the two of you were outside and heading to your car. “You want me to hold your hand again or was that a one-time thing?”

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” She smirks, looking up at you. “Unfortunately for you, I came prepared this time.”

You couldn’t help but stare as she lifts the hem of her shirt, reaching into what you could only assume was a pocket or pouch of sorts, pulling out a pair of black gloves. It was such a strange sight to you that you abruptly come to a standstill, Ruby turning to face you once she realizes you’re no longer walking by her side. “Anon?”

“Did you just-”

“Did I what?” she asks. “Are you alright, Anon?”

You continue to stare at her, dumbfounded. “W-where did you get those gloves from?”

“From my p-” she says, a surprised expression on her face. “Wait, did you not know we have pouches?”

“What? It’s not like I’ve ever known a kangaroo before.” You shrug, still trying to process the information. “What else do you keep in there?”

She glares at you for a moment before responding. “I’m not telling you that!”

“Why not? You can’t just tell me about it and then not answer my questions, come on,” you say. “Is it like a pocket or something? How much room do you have in there?”

“There’s room enough,” she mutters. “Now stop asking dumb questions and let’s get out of this cold before I freeze to death.”

“Is it warm in there at least?” you ask. “Sorry, I’m just having trouble picturing what it’d be like to have a front pocket.”

She grabs you by your forearm and attempts to drag you towards the parking lot. “It’s warm enough, now come on.”

You can’t help but come up with more questions to ask her as the two of you continue to walk to your car. “So why don’t you just keep your hands in there instead? Then you wouldn’t need to carry around the gloves, right?”

She shakes her head at the question and sighs. “That’s like me asking you why you don’t just keep your hands down your drawers, mate.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have anything in there like we do, right?” you ask. “If you’re not going to use it, then can I keep my hands in there when it gets cold?”

She goes beet red at your question and starts speed-walking away to distance herself from you.

You quickly burst into a light sprint to catch up to her. “What? Was it something I said?”

She didn’t dare meet your gaze, a light blush still visible on her face. “Yes. So can you please drop it, Anon?”

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” you say, raising both of your hands in mock surrender. “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

“No mate, it’s just kind of a weird thing to ask, ya’ know?”

You weren’t sure what to think of her reaction, not knowing much about anthro kangaroos or even most anthros in general. It surprised you that you’d never noticed her having a pouch before. Although you could likely chalk that up to your intense focus on her other assets. “Sorry, guess I really don’t know as much about anthros as I thought I did. Hell, you’re probably the first anthro I can really call a friend.”

She almost looks surprised by your comment. “Really? No offense, but you’re exactly the kind of guy that would have a whole lot of anthro friends.”

“And why’s that?”

“You really don’t know?” she asks, shooting you a puzzled look. “You humans are really popular with anthros as of late.”

“Guess I’ve never really gone out of my way to talk to one before.” You shrug. “I only met a few anthros in college, but none I’d call a friend.”

“Why’s that?”

You look down at her and flash a knowing smile. “Now look who’s asking weird questions.”

“Okay smartass, ya made your point,” she says. “I’ve got an idea. What if we take turns asking our weird questions, fair deal?”

You finally reach your car, opening the passenger side door for her. “Fair enough, but I get to go first. Why do you think I should have a lot of anthro friends?”

You close the passenger side door and get into the drivers seat, starting your car and pulling out from the mall parking lot.

With ample time to come up with a response, she fires back a response the second you’re clear of the mall. “I don’t know how to explain it exactly, you guys are just exotic. You know how you reacted to me having a pouch back there? That’s how anthros feel about how different humans look.”

“Look different how?”

She quickly turns around and uses both hands to grip the base of her thick tail. “Well for one, you don’t have to deal with one of these hanging behind you all the time.”

“Is it really that big of a deal?” you ask, quickly taking a glance at her. “Sure, it’s probably heavy and kind of annoying when you sit down, but I can’t see having a tail being all that terrible.”

“Well, you know how it took us a few hours just to buy clothes for you?”

“God, don’t remind me, I’m just glad we’re finally out of there,” you groan.

“Well, clothes shopping is way worse for anthros, first you have to find something that fits your legs, then even if you manage to find that, you still have to make sure your tail fits in the stupid hole! It’s exhausting to have to go to ten different stores to find one thing that fits you.”

“So what, just because we don’t have tails anthros think we’re exotic? There has to be more to it than just that, right?”

She touches a finger to your nose, making you jerk back reflexively. “You guys also have these weird looking things while most anthros have to deal with snouts.”

“Okay, but don’t you guys have a really good sense of smell because of those snouts?” you ask. “If you ask me, it’s probably worth dealing with the hassle.”

“See, you’d think that at first, but being able to smell really well isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Sometimes I don’t feel like being able to smell someone’s bad breath from across the room, believe it or not. Kind of hard to get privacy when you’re among other anthros too, it comes with the heightened sense of smell and hearing thing.”

You briefly take a hand off the steering wheel to touch your nose. “Are the way our noses look really that weird to you guys? Never really thought of it that way.”

“Not just that, but a lot of anthros either really hate or love the fact that you guys have mouths as opposed to snouts.”

From the copious amounts of “research” material you’d consumed in your private time, you knew exactly why some of them liked the fact that you had lips as opposed to a snout. Still, you figured it’d be better to feign ignorance rather than admit your sins to her. “So why do they hate the fact that we don’t have snouts?”

“You ever seen an anthro with a really long snout? It’s kind of like that, but in reverse, it really freaks some anthros out that you guys have ‘flat’ faces.”

“So do I look weird to you then?”

“I don’t really mind it, but if I’m being honest, looking at you took some getting used to, with you guys not having any fur or anything.”

“What, you’d rather I look like some kind of werewolf instead?” You laugh, imagining how ridiculous you’d look with fur. “Not a bad idea for a Halloween costume, actually.”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” she said, her tail flicking about like it had a mind of it’s own. “It just takes some getting used to after hanging around anthros for so long, that’s all.”

You continue driving to the pizza parlor, sighing as the traffic light stops you dead in your tracks. “Alright, your turn to ask a question.”

She turns to look at you, her nervous gaze meeting yours. “Why am I your first anthro friend?”

It wasn’t the question you were waiting to hear and judging from the look on her face, it was one she expected a good answer to. “I told you already, you’re a good friend and you’re fun to hang out with.”

“T-thanks Anon, but I meant why am I the first one? You seem like the kind of person to have friends of all kinds, so why me?”

You think back to all the opportunities you’d had in college and high school to make friends with anthros, none of them feeling like the type of friendship you had with Ruby. “Honestly? I couldn’t really tell you. Don’t get me wrong or anything, I knew a lot of anthros back in college, but it takes a lot for me to consider someone an actual friend, you know?”

She doesn’t answer for a while, the silence making you increasingly nervous as it continued to drag on. You decide to say something to break the awkward silence. “Does that make sense? Ruby?”

She only continues to stare at you, fidgeting in her seat. “It makes sense, it’s just... surprising is all.”

It was now your turn to shoot back a puzzled look. “Why is it surprising? It’s the truth.”

“I don’t know,” she says, sighing deeply before continuing. “Nobody’s ever really told me I’m fun to hang out with.”

“Wh-” You start before you’re cut off by the loud honking of car horns.

You quickly put the car in drive again, taking off before you incur the ire of the drivers behind you. “So what were you saying?”

As you pull into the parking lot of the restaurant she responds. “Don’t worry about it Anon, it’s nothing.”

You would never get tired of coming here; a place you’d been to so many times that it almost felt like a second home to you. While it wasn’t the fanciest or most modern place, there were a lot of things that kept you coming back. The kind waitstaff was a big reason you chose to come here over other pizzerias, almost never leaving unhappy with the level of service they provided. Combined with the cheesy sports paraphernalia that decorated the walls, including old framed news clippings related to local sports teams, the place felt homely. It was somewhere you could genuinely relax while enjoying a great meal. You and Ruby made your way to the same booth as the last time you came here, it’s position by the window allowing you both to take in the sights that came with a chilly fall morning. “Seriously though, what were you going to say?”

“Do you really consider me your friend?” she asks, quickly spitting out the words. “After all the shitty things I’ve done to you? It’s like you forgot how we met in the first place.”

You remembered everything that happened on the day the two of you became friends, in this very restaurant no less. The events leading up to it were also still fresh in your mind, remembering the way she’d confronted you after work. She was currently wearing the very same surprised expression you’d seen on her face after she punched you in the gut that day, wondering why you weren’t livid that she’d done so. “If you’re talking about the day you punched me, I’m not upset. I’m not the kind of person to hold grudges.”

“B-but how can you just be okay with that? Why aren’t you mad at me because of it? I didn’t even apologize afterwards.”

You meet her gaze, watching as her expression goes from surprised to exasperated as you struggle to come up with the right words. “Can I just ask you one thing? Why’d you do it?”

“I don-” she starts, quickly cut off by the waitress approaching your table.

She drops a menu in front of each of you, smiling as she does so. “What can I get you two to drink?”

“A coke for me and uh....” you say.

“I’ll take a coke as well, thanks,” she says, finishing your sentence.

When the waitress finally leaves to get your drink orders, she starts to speak again, “I don’t know mate, I thought I’d finally met someone who saw past the whole ‘short girl’ thing and it made me really upset to think someone had fooled me again.”

“Do you still see me that way?” you ask. “As someone who sees past the superficial stuff, I mean.”

“I honestly still do Anon, and I’m really, really sorry for the misunderstanding in the first place,” she mutters, unable to meet your gaze. “I feel terrible for hitting you, can you forgive me for that? I let my feelings get the better of me that day, but that’s no excuse for what I did.”

You honestly weren’t expecting the sudden apology, watching her grow anxious again as you tried to figure out what to say. “I forgive you, but on one condition.”

She looked relieved at your response. “Name it, mate.”

You crack a smile before replying. “Please teach me how to punch like you, seriously.”

She reaches across the table to playfully smack your arm, smiling as she does. “Ass.”

“I meant what I said though, you’re a good friend and fun to hang out with, don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise,” you say, hoping the words finally get through to her.

“Thank you, Anon, that... really means a lot to me,” she says, flashing you a warm smile.

Not long after that, the waitress returns with your drinks in hand and takes your order. The two of you settle on ordering the same thing as last time, an extra large with pepperoni. As you wait for your order to be prepared, you decide to shoot her another question. “Alright, my turn now. What exactly do you keep in that pouch of yours?”

She cocked an eyebrow at you, seemingly amused at your question. “Are you really going to waste your questions on stuff like that, Anon?”

“What? I’m honestly curious, I’ve never seen you carry a purse or anything before.”

She looks down, lifting the hem of her shirt as she roots around in her pouch. “I just keep my phone, keys and wallet in here usually.”

You return the gesture and cock an eyebrow at her answer. “Wait, usually? What else could you possibly keep in there?

She fidgets a bit in her seat, her ears twitching every so slightly as she does. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“I wont laugh, I promise,” you say, putting a hand over your heart.

She giggles at your gesture, lowering her voice to a whisper. “You promise you won’t tell a soul?”

“Come on, it can’t be that embarrassing,” you say. “I promise though, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Snacks,” she mutters so quickly you almost don’t pick it up. “I keep snacks in there sometimes, okay?”

“Good one, no seriously, what do you actually keep in there?” you ask, her silence speaking volumes. “Wait, you’re serious? What kind of snacks?”

“Snack cakes, chips sometimes,” she mutters. “Don’t judge me, every day is a cheat day for you.”

“I don’t care about that, I’m just hurt you never shared any with me,” you tease. “I could’ve used a pick me up after that jog last week.”

“So you don’t think it’s weird?” she asks, no longer speaking in hushed tones.

“Weird? Sounds awesome having your own pouch to keep stuff in,” you say. “I’d carry around so much shit if we had something like that.”

She doesn’t look convinced by your answer. “Oh yeah, like what?”

“Well for starters: snacks, protein bars, protein shakes, gym gloves, hell, you could probably even keep a few beers in there.”

She laughs nervously in response to the things you’d listed, eyes glued to the floor. “Y-yeah who would carry something like that in their pouch....”

You shoot her an incredulous look, not believing what you were hearing. “No way. Alright, spit it out, which ones have you carried in your pouch before?”

Still unable to meet your gaze, she quickly spits out a response. “J-just the protein bars and shake.”

“What’s so embarrassing about that?” you ask. “It’s obnoxious having to carry a water bottle with you at the gym.”

“I don’t know... sometimes I just get the feeling people look at me strange when I pull something out of there, you know?”

“Well, you caught me off guard so I imagine they feel the same way, right?” you say, putting your hand on her shoulder for support. “I wouldn’t worry about it, honestly.”

She finally looks up from the floor, putting her furred hand over yours. “I guess I never really thought about it that way, thanks Anon.”

You offer a reassuring smile. “No problem.”

Once your pizza arrives the two of you quickly grab a slice and dig in while it’s still piping hot. The only thing that could be heard for a few minutes was the occasional sound of either of you taking sips from your drink. After the two of you ate your fill, you resumed your conversation again. “Alright, I think we’ve got enough time for one more question.”

“How do you guys even manage to stay warm in the winter?”

“I don’t know, the same way you guys do I guess, we just have to wear more layers when it’s cold.”

“Yeah, but you guys don’t have fur or anything to work with, so how do you not freeze to death?” she asks. “I have fur and I freeze the minute I step outside. How do humans not just turn into an icy pole when winter rolls around?”

“It can’t be that much worse for us, can it?” you ask. “Like you said, you have fur and you still get pretty cold, right?”

“I don’t think I own enough coats to stop myself from being cold right now, Anon,” she said. “It’s the only thing I don’t miss about living here. Australia and everywhere else I’ve been to has nice weather year-round, but then here we’re freezing for half the damn year.”

“Be thankful it’s not cold enough to snow yet,” you said, staring out the window again. “Were you around the last time it snowed here? It almost never happens, but when it does it’s incredible.”

“No, I didn’t even think it was possible. Were you?”

“Only once when I was like seven years old, it wasn’t enough to make snowmen with or anything, but I’ll honestly never forget it,” you said. “I remember my dad took me to the park that day, and we sat on the grass together watching the snow flakes fall around us, it was beautiful.

“Sounds amazing, hope I get to see it happen again sometime.”

“With the kind of weather we’re getting right now, I wouldn’t be surprised if it happened again this year.”

You check your watch as Ruby continues to work through another slice. “I think it’s about time we get going, my landlord hates it when people are working on their cars at night.”

“Alright, let me just finish this slice and we can go,” she says. “What about the rest of it though?”

You partially raise your hand in an attempt to get the server’s attention, pulling out your wallet as you do. “I’ll just ask them to box it up, no big deal.”

The waitress approaches the table, the very same smile on her face. “What can I do for you?”

“If you could bring me the check please, and box this up as well, thanks,” you said, pointing at the remaining slices of pizza.

“Not a problem,” she says, taking the pizza with her.

“Oh come on mate, you don’t have to pay, let me pay for my half at least,” she says, reaching down to rummage through her pouch again. “How much do I owe ya?”

“Nothing, because I’m paying for it,” you say sternly, placing a twenty dollar bill on the table as you wait for the waitress to return with the bill. “Seriously, you were a huge help earlier, think of it as my thanks to you.”

“Alright fine, but next time I’m picking up the bill, okay?” she asks. “Don’t want you to think I’m some kind of mooch or anything.”

The waitress quickly returns with a small box and your change, which you decide to leave as a tip. As you get up to leave, you notice Ruby leaving an additional five dollars on the table. She could be pretty damn stubborn at times, but you’d be lying if you said the gesture didn’t put a smile on your face. It was refreshing to know a girl who didn’t expect every outing to be fully paid for.

As you get into your car, you toss the box of pizza into the backseat, eager to start making your way to your apartment while it was still early. It wasn’t too late in the afternoon, but you wanted to have ample time to work on your car in anticipation of the double date. The chance of your car breaking down on the way to your apartment wasn’t too high, but the fact that it was a possibility worried you immensely. You’d never live it down if your car broke down when you were with Ruby, especially since she already considered your car a junker.

Her voice is enough to drag you away from your worrying thoughts, taking your eyes off the road for a moment to steal a quick glance at her.

“Thanks for the pizza Anon, it was even better than I remember it being,” she says, a satisfied expression on her face.

“No problem, I’m just glad you like it as much as I do,” you say. “You can take the rest of it home if you want.”

“Nah mate, you paid for it so you hold on to it,” she says. “Don’t forget about that lunch you still owe me though.”

“How could I forget with you reminding me all the time?” You chuckle. “Are you still not going to tell me where you want me to take you?”

“I haven’t decided on a place yet, but I promise I’ll tell you once I figure it out,” she says. “For now you’ll just have to keep on guessing.”

The two of you continue to make small talk, distracting you so much that you nearly miss the turn into your apartment complex. You park your car next to a few empty spaces to give yourself adequate room to work. After pulling the trunk release, you step out of the car and go to grab your toolbox, only to realize you’d left it up in your apartment. You’d helped a friend move a few weeks back and had to stash them in your apartment to make room in your trunk.

You decide to let her know what your plans were. “Hey Ruby, I’m going to go grab my tools real quick, you mind waiting here and watching the car for a little bit?”


You quickly turn to look at him and nod. “Sure mate, I’ll keep an eye on it while you’re gone.”

He flashes you his trademark smile before responding. “Thanks, be back in a second.”

You watch him like a hawk as he walks away, slowly making his way to what seemed like the stairwell leading to his apartment. While he’s turned away from you, your eyes linger on his backside, the form fitting jeans he chose to wear today doing him no favors in preventing you from ogling his firm, toned butt. It made you feel like a total pervert for doing it, but you couldn’t look away until he was finally out of sight.

It was perfectly normal, right? The fact that you’d leaped at the chance to cop a feel earlier in that dressing room. You felt kind of ashamed for doing it afterwards, but there was something oddly thrilling about the possibility of him confronting you about your actions. Had he realized what you were doing and just been nice enough to not say anything about it? Either way, you were going to make an effort to control this side of yourself around him.

As much as you liked to tease him for the age of his car, you had to admit the interior was always spotless with a smell that resembled that of a new car. For a moment you almost wished he had invited you inside so you could see if he kept his apartment in a similar state of cleanliness. As you continued to examine the interior you realized he’d left the keys in the ignition. It felt nice to know he trusted you enough to do so despite how little time had passed since the two of you became friends.

After a few more minutes pass you see him making his way down the stairs, wearing a sleeveless camisole dotted with stains that looked suspiciously like oil or grease stains. You were almost sure he was doing it intentionally to tease you, nobody in their right mind would wear sleeveless clothing with this kind of weather. It wasn’t going to be easy, but you weren’t going to be defeated so easily by an article of clothing, determined to focus on other things instead.

He set the toolbox down on the sidewalk in front of the the car, undoing the latches and opening it up. “Alright, so you said you wanted to learn the basics, right? What exactly did you want me to show you?”

It takes you a moment to respond, trying to come up with a response that wouldn’t make you sound too clueless. “Mate, I’ve never even so much as changed the oil on a car before, so how about we keep things simple?”

“Simple, got it,” he says. “Alright, you mind popping the hood open for me then?”

You went around to the driver’s side of the car and hit the latch to pop open the hood, going back to his side and waiting for his instructions. The moment he bends over to get a closer look at something, your eyes betray you once again, gluing themselves to the taut backside currently pressing against the fabric of his jeans. It took all the willpower you had in you to resist the urge to reach out and give it a squeeze.

“Alright so first you’re going to w-” he starts, your mind tuning him out as you continue to ogle the rest of his body.

If you thought the lack of fur was a bad thing earlier, this spectacle was enough to change your mind entirely. It made any muscle definition far more visible, especially as he turned what seemed to be a particularly tight plastic cap, his arm muscles tensing as he grips it tighter. You hear a faint snapping noise, pulling you from your stupor.

“Hello, Earth to Ruby,” he says, still snapping his fingers in front of your face. “You still with me here?”

You blush and nod, maybe a little too enthusiastically in response. “I’m listening, you were turning the cap there, right?”

“Yeah... but did you hear what I said?”

“I did, I just didn’t understand it. You mind repeating it for me?” you ask, praying he doesn’t ask any more questions.

“Okay... so first you want to check the oil levels, you take the dip stick here, wipe it off, dip it inside then pull it out again and see how far the oil reaches on the stick,” he says. “Sound simple enough? Go ahead and give it a shot.”

You approach the vehicle and he hands you the dip stick, your hand trembling slightly as you go to measure the oil. He seems to notice your hesitation and takes hold of your wrist to guide you. It only makes you more worried that you’re coming across as clueless in his eyes for not knowing anything about cars. With his help you guide the dip stick into the hole and quickly pull it out, making a mental note of the amount of oil covering it.

“See, that wasn’t so bad was it?” he asks, letting go of your wrist. “Now comes the harder part, actually draining the used oil.”

He crouches down to examine the underside of the car and you quickly follow suit, crouching down alongside him. Fishing out a small flashlight from one of his pockets, he uses it to direct your attention to a small area on the bottom of the engine. “You see that there? That’s the drain plug, but it might not be in the same exact spot on your car, so you’ll have to look around a bit.”

You sheepishly scratch at the back of your head, averting your gaze. “This might be a little surprising to you, but I don’t own a car.”

The look of surprise on his face doesn’t exactly make you feel any better about having admitted that to him.

“Seriously? How do you make it to work on time then?” he asks.

You shrug in response, doing your best to act like it’s not a big deal. “Some days I take the bus, and some days I just jog to work.”

“Well, if you ever need a ride to work just give me a call, I’d be happy to do so.”

You weren’t expecting him to offer you rides to work, and while you weren’t exactly eager to take him up on his generous offer for fear of looking needy, it still made you happy that he offered it to you out of the kindness of his heart.

“So, anyways, you’re going to need something to drain the oil into,” he says, reaching for a small yet deep plastic container by the toolbox. “Anything you have on hand that you can fit under the car works fine, even a paint roller tray if you have nothing else.”

“So, I’m guessing what you have to do next is just loosen the plug and that’s it?”

“Not quite, there’s one more thing you have to do after that. Let’s take it step by step though,” he says, reaching for a wrench and offering it to you. “Alright, you can do the honors here.”

You reach out and take the wrench in hand, having enough confidence in your strength to be completely sure you could do this simple task. Taking the wrench to the bolt, you begin to loosen it and watch as the oil begins to drain into the container.

“Excellent, now we just need to replace the filter as well,” he says, standing back up to examine the engine again. “You can undo the bolt here too.”

He points at the exact nut you need to loosen and you repeat the process. It was surprisingly easy to learn when you had such a patient teacher guiding you every step of the way. You step out of the way as he goes to pull out the old filter, not wanting to get any oil or grease in your fur. He sets it down on another container, watching as the oil trickles out of it.

“Alright, I want you to put in the new one and screw the bolt back on,” he says, handing you a brand new filter. “If it’s not going in easily, you can put some elbow grease into it and force it inside.”

You carefully drop the new filter into place, making sure not to drop it in the process. After it’s in place you follow his instructions and make sure to tighten the nut as much as possible.

“Good job, now that the oil should be all drained out, go ahead and tighten the drain plug too.”

You crouch down again to tighten the bolt and find it’s significantly more difficult to tighten than to loosen due to how little reach you had when going in the opposite direction. “Mate, can I get a little help down here?”

He takes the wrench from your hands and reaches in to tighten the bolt once again. “Sorry about that, thought you had it handled.”

You almost berate yourself again for not being able to do something so simple, but then you catch a glimpse of that reassuring smile and the worry melts away. “It’s alright, just couldn’t reach it is all....”

He crouches down again to rummage through his toolbox and grabs a funnel along with a small bottle of oil, handing them both to you. “Now comes the easy part, adding the new oil. Just make sure to pour it in slowly.”

You slot the funnel into the opening before unscrewing the cap on the bottle of oil. As you begin to slowly pour the oil, you take extra precautions to not spill any in the process. After there’s no more oil to pour inside you make sure the funnel is empty before handing it back to Anon. “So, what now? Or are we done?”

“We’re almost done.” He tightens the cap on the oil intake, making sure it’s as tight as possible before continuing. “Now we’ve just got to run the engine for a little bit then measure the levels again. You mind running the engine for me real quick?”

You nod and get in the drivers seat before calling out to him. “Ready, Anon?!”

“Yeah, I’ll tell you when to shut it off,” he replies.

You start the engine, keeping your fingers on the key for what seems like an eternity until he finally gives you the go-ahead to shut it off again. Walking back around to the front of the car, you see him hunched over the motor adjusting god knows what. It was kind of uncanny how similar it was to when you watched your dad work on his cars as a kid, even down to the same height. But wait... you were ogling his ass earlier and now you think he reminds you of dad. Gross. You involuntarily shudder as you try to avoid connecting the two in your brain, instead opting to watch intently as he finishes the oil change.

He grabs a rag from his toolbox to clean the oil and grease from his hands. “See, that didn’t take very long, now did it?”

You look up at him and smile. “That honestly wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be, but I can’t imagine that’s the only thing you’re going to teach me how to do.”

He quickly checks his watch. “We’ve got another hour or two to burn unless you’ve got somewhere to be.”

“I could do with learning a few more things if you’re willing to show me,” you say. “Something easy though, please. Even the oil change seemed kind of hard at first.”

He crouches down and starts rummaging through his toolbox again. “Well, if you want something easy how about... checking the tire pressure?”

“I think I can handle that.”

He grabs a small implement from his toolbox that looks a bit like a stopwatch with a stem protruding from the top. You could only assume it was used to measure the tire pressure judging from the numbers printed on the device.

“Alright, so the first thing you’re going to want to do before starting is make sure you know the recommended pressure for your tires,” he says, crouching down when he reaches the side of the vehicle. “Once you know that, then all you have to do is unscrew this cap here, press the tip of the gauge into it and then read the measurement.”

He hands you the gauge and shuffles out of the way to allow you to take the measurement yourself. You follow his exact instructions and get the measurement, comparing it to recommended pressure he mentioned earlier. Repeating the process for each tire on the vehicle, you determine that only one of the four tires on the car could use more air.

He takes the gauge from your hands and drops it back into the toolbox before speaking. “I’ll take care of filling it with more air tomorrow, nice work.”

You can’t help but feel a little proud at his compliment, never having done anything resembling maintenance to a car in your life before today. “Thanks, anything else you want to show me?”

“I think we’ve got time for one last easy thing, how to check the antifreeze levels, which is pretty important with the kind of weather we’ve having right now.”

You follow him as he walks around to the engine again, hood still held open.

“You see this transparent tank here?” he asks. “All you have to do is make sure the liquid reaches the full line and you’re good to go.”

You lean over the engine to take a look yourself. “Looks like it’s already topped up to me.”

“I think that about wraps things up for today then,” he says as he packs all his instruments and tools back into the nearby toolbox, making sure to place a lid on the two containers he used to drain the oil. You watched as he tossed the toolbox and containers into the trunk of the car, making sure to clean off his hands once again before tossing the rag inside and slamming it shut.

You felt bad for calling his car a junker on multiple occasions now, even if it was just a joke. It was clear how much he cared for the car judging by how much time he spent cleaning and maintaining it. You wanted to apologize for it, but he interrupted your thoughts before you could put your thoughts into words.

“So, guess I’ll see you on Monday then?”

“W-wait, what?” you ask, taken aback by his sudden goodbyes. “Aren’t you going to give me a ride home? You’re not going to make me walk home in the cold, are you?”

A grin quickly overtakes his neutral expression. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you a ride, I just wanted to see how you’d react.”

You playfully nudge him in the side, a smile forming on your face. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you it’s not right to play with a girl’s feelings like that?”

He chuckles as he opens the passenger side door for you. “Must’ve missed that lesson, I guess.”

“Well, don’t you forget it, Anon,” you say, wagging a finger at him as you get into the car.

Soon enough you’re on your way to your apartment, the ride home giving you some time to come up with an apology for your comments earlier this week. Your mouth seemed eager to apologize before your brain could catch up and form said apology, muttering out a meek, “S-sorry.”

He took his eyes off the road for a quick moment to glance at you and then back again. “For what?”

“You know... for uh- how I called your car a junker before?”

“Oh, you don’t have to apologize for that. Look, I know my car isn’t the fanciest one in the world, but my father passed it down to me and I’ve been taking care of her ever since. I accept your apology though.”

His explanation only makes you feel even worse for having called it a junker in the first place. “O-oh. Is this the only car you’ve ever had then?”

“Yep. She’s been with me since high school and I don’t think I’d trade her for anything else in the world,” he says, rubbing at the steering wheel affectionately.

“Must be a lot of hard work to keep her running this well, and clean too,” you say.

He glances at you once again, this time with a big smile on his face. “Yeah, but it gets harder to keep her running every year, if I’m being honest with you. Worth the effort to me though.”

You decide to steer the conversation in a different direction, shooting him a question you’d asked earlier in hopes of getting a real answer from him. “So, are you ever going to tell me what you need those clothes for?”

“I told you already, I’m a secret agent by night,” he says. “As soon as I drop you off I have to go fight crime and dispense justice.”

You pout at his response, hoping one look at your face makes him reconsider his answer. “How about this, if I can guess what they’re for, you tell me if I’m right?”

“Alright. I’ll give you three guesses to figure it out,” he says. “Bet you ten bucks you won’t be able to though.”

“You’re on,” you say with confidence. “Uh... a wedding?”

He shakes his head in response. “You already guessed that one earlier, so I won’t count it against you.”

“Job interview?”

He shook his head again. “Shit, I wish they were for an interview. Two more guesses.”

You decided to give your next guess a bit more thought, looking out the window for a while. After a few minutes you saw a billboard that gave you another idea for a guess. “Court date?”

“Just what kind of guy do you take me for?” He laughs. “My memory might not be the best, but I don’t remember having a court date. And before you guess again, no, it’s not jury duty either.”

You had one guess left and with so many options to choose from you decided to just wing it instead of trying to make a good guess. “I don’t know... uh, a date?”

His sudden silence and delay in responding spoke volumes about the accuracy of your guess.

“How did you...? Still, you’re only half right and out of guesses so I’m only giving you five bucks.”

You didn’t even care about the money, you were just curious about where and who he was going on a date with. “So... who’s the lucky lady? Is she... an anthro girl?”

“Don’t know yet, just know that I’m going on a date.”

“Huh? Oh god, don’t tell me you’re going on a blind date or something,” you say. “I’ve heard so many horror stories about blind dates.”

He rubbed at the back of his neck with one hand, continuing to steer with the other. “It’s not exactly that, just something similar.”

It was strange, you felt almost... jealous that he was going on a date with another girl. You were just friends so you had no real reason to feel that way about the situation, scolding yourself for not being more supportive instead. “Well, either way I hope you have a good time with her.”

“Thank you.”

The entire rest of the way home you fidget in your seat, playing with your hair and fingers as you continue looking out the window of the car, hoping you didn’t make things awkward with your line of questioning. The last thing you wanted was for him to not share anything with you anymore because of your incessant prying for answers. After some time you see the familiar signs of your neighborhood, thankful to be so close to escaping the awkward environment you’d created.

You were surprised he’d never asked any questions about how you could afford to live in such a nice community, seeming content with just dropping you off and making sure you were safe. He didn’t know it, but you knew that every time he dropped you off he stuck around until you were safely inside your apartment, something you greatly appreciated.

He brings the car to a full stop in the usual spot before saying his goodbyes. “Listen, thanks a ton for coming out to help me today, it means a lot to me. You’ve got a real eye for fashion. I owe you one.”

You can feel your cheeks burning from his praise, hoping it’s not visible through the thin layer of fur on your face, your heart pounding in your chest as you respond. “It’s nothing mate, I’m just happy I could help ya out so much. Plus, you taught me a thing or two about cars so I’d say we’re even.”

“Oh yeah, before I forget, take this home with you,” he says, quickly turning in his seat to reach for something in the backseat. “I don’t want to be tempted when I get home.”

Even with him practically pushing the box of leftover pizza into your hands you’re reluctant to take it, knowing full well he had paid for the entirety of the meal. “Nah mate, you hold on to it, you paid for it so it’s only fair.”

“I’m not going to fight you on this one Ruby, I want you take it, seriously,” he insists, thrusting the box forward again. “Consider it a thanks for helping me pick out these clothes.”

You decide that accepting is probably for the best, but in your stubbornness you blurt something else out. “Fine, I’ll take the pizza, but you don’t owe me those five bucks.”

“Alright, fine,” he sighs. “If you say so.”

You put the pizza box in your lap and go in for a goodbye hug, something that you were starting to look forward to each time he dropped you off at your house. The way he froze up when you hugged him was kind of endearing, but the feeling of his arm wrapped around you was worth making him a little uneasy on occasion. You looked up at him as you hugged him tight, locking eyes with him. “So, see you Monday morning?”

“For wh- Oh right, jogging. Yeah, I’ll see you first thing in the morning on Monday, you have a good night.”

“You too, Anon.”

You grabbed your belongings along with the box of pizza and headed to your apartment, taking a glance down at the street when you reach the top of the stone steps to make sure he's still around waiting for you. Sure enough, he was still parked in the exact same spot. You had no idea why, but it made you feel warm and safe that he took the extra time to stick around instead of leaving immediately.

Rooting around in your pouch for a moment, you fish out the keys to your apartment and quickly step inside, locking the door behind you. You set down your belongings and the pizza box on the kitchen counter alongside the small mountain of empty takeout boxes you have yet to throw away. A few choice words fly from your mouth as you forcefully kick at the air, annoyed that your shoes refuse to come off. After many attempts, you decide to wait until later to take them off.

You step into the kitchen, flicking the light switch on as you walk by. After your eyes adjust to the bright light, you take a look at the dirty dishes piled high in your sink and let out a sigh. You really should’ve taken care of the dishes earlier in the week before they became this much of a problem. Reaching into a cabinet below the sink, you pull out a pair of latex gloves and start to put them on. You sit there for a moment, staring down at the mountain of dishes before you, looking for any excuse to leave the task for another day. Taking a quick glance at the wall clock lets you know just how late it really is. Already 9:38 p.m. and with how early you had to be up tomorrow, you opt to leave the dish washing for another day. A warm shower and a good night’s rest sounded fantastic after the long day you’d had. After tossing the pizza box in the fridge and putting the gloves back in their place, you turn the lights off and start making your way to the bathroom.

You begin taking your clothes off as you go down the hallway, leaving them in the growing pile of clothing cluttering the path to the bathroom that you promise yourself you’ll pick up first thing in the morning. Getting your tail unstuck from the hole in your pants was your first priority, though you nearly trip over a pair of jeans you'd left on the floor a few days ago as you focus on pulling on it out. By the time you waddled into the bathroom with your pants around your ankles, all you had left to take off were your bra, panties, and shoes. You reach down to yank off your shoes with your pants soon to follow, then reach back with both hands to undo the clasp of your bra to let it fall to the floor, and finally pull off your panties.

All that was left to do after that was to take the scrunchie out of your ponytail, letting your brown hair flow freely. You stand in front of the bathroom mirror and take in your form, flicking at the strands of hair tickling your shoulders and upper back, briefly wondering if you should trim it or grow it out even further. After deciding you’d leave your hair alone for the foreseeable future, your attention is drawn to the rest of your body. The first thing your eyes were drawn to were your arms. Defined, but not overly muscular; your hard work at the gym was certainly paying off. While you never had much muscle definition around your breasts, the bench pressing you’d been doing with Anon had certainly had a visible effect on the area. As you continue working your way down your body, you notice something that distresses you. It was hard enough having visible abs with the layer of fur that typically covered them, but the definition you once had down there was fading rapidly. Maybe you should consider cutting back on the snacks, stop eating out so frequently, and add some crunches to your morning routine. You didn’t work so hard on your core just to lose all your progress to a poor diet, after all.

You step into your shower and turn it on, standing just outside the water’s flow as you wait for it to heat up. Once the water reaches the right temperature, you step inside and close your eyes as you let the warm water wash over your entire body. You were of the opinion that a warm shower could fix just about anything, letting out a long, pleasured sigh as the hot water washes over you and spreads a comforting warmth through your body. You reach for the bottle of shampoo and squirt a generous dollop of it onto your hand, then begin working it into your hair. It was one of the few things you were proud of, making sure to always wash and condition it to keep it soft and silky to the touch. After you finish washing your hair, you start on the rest of your body, making sure to cover every inch of your fur with a special mix of body wash and conditioner. It felt really good to run your hands over your sore muscles after a long day, making sure to get the soapy mixture deep into your coat. You couldn’t help but be proud of the way your thin, yet soft coat felt between your fingers, the sensation akin to running your fingers over velvet. Stopping to pour another glob of the mixture into your hand to wash your privates, you part your legs slightly to make the task easier for yourself.

As you reach down to spread the soap around, your finger inadvertently runs over your button ever so slightly, sending a tingle down your spine. It only serves to remind you how long it’s been since you last... took care of yourself. You try to ignore the feeling and continue washing yourself, but you can’t help but run a finger over it again, this time with slightly more pressure. Even if you tried, you couldn’t stop shivers from coursing through your body, the hot water soaking into your fur only helping amplify the already pleasurable sensations you were feeling. You ease yourself into a steady pace, your breath quickening as you continue to rub at your clit with increasing speed. While it felt amazing, you needed some kind of visual aid to enhance the experience, closing your eyes and trying to visualize anything that might help you get off quicker. You went through a long list of muscular, fictional characters in your head, until you finally settled on the rugged and handsome Big Boss for some odd reason you didn’t care to understand right now. Bringing your free hand up to your breast, you cup the soft, pliable flesh in your hand and begin kneading at it, fantasizing that they’re being groped by his muscular arms instead. You have to bite at your lower lip to suppress a moan when the thought of being pressed against the tiled wall by those very same arms crosses your mind. The thought is enough to make you eager to slip a finger inside, the rubbing not being nearly enough stimulation for your pleasure addled mind. As you sink your index finger deep into your cunt, you realize just how aroused you are, your finger slipping in with little resistance. Your legs threaten to buckle as you get used to the sensation that came with using your digit to stir up your needy insides.

Eyes still closed, you continue rubbing at your button as you continue to imagine him groping every part of your body. Your breathing becomes ragged, panting loudly the second you realize there’s no reason to hold yourself back in the comfort of your own home.

“O-ooohhh fuck, don’t haaah~ stop, please!” you moan out loudly, your legs threatening to buckle underneath you once again.

You pick up the pace once again, plunging your finger even deeper inside as you slowly begin to approach your limits. Even as the droplets of water continue to hit your fur and run down your legs, you can still feel your sticky, syrupy juices running out and clinging to the fur around your thighs. You take your hand off your breast, opting to press your open palm against the tiled surface for support instead. In this new, slightly bent over position you were now in, you imagined those large, rough hands gripping your hips from behind as he thrust into you. You picture his fingers digging deeply into your thighs and ass as he pushes in deep with reckless abandon. Combined with the fact that you were presently curling the digit that was knuckle deep inside you, you couldn’t help but let out a series of soft, breathy moans. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge of your limits, huffing as you careen towards your release.

“Oh god, just unff- keep nngh- going Anon, just like-”

Everything comes to a screeching halt the second you realize the significance of the words that just left your mouth, as any hope of having an orgasm is swept down the drain in an instant. Why did you say his name? And why was he even on your mind while you were... and more importantly, now that you think about it, Big Boss doesn’t even have black hair. You try to connect the dots when it finally hits you; Anon has black hair. Oh god, did y- were you imagining it was him the entire time? Even though there’s no one around to witness your mistake, your cheeks burn intensely with shame and embarrassment as you think about what you just did. You turn the knob in the shower and cool water starts to flow, helping you forget both your blunder and the burning feeling in your groin. It felt wrong to think about him that way considering you’d only known him for a few days. Sure, you ogled him on occasion, but what girl wouldn’t with a body like his? Despite desperately wanting to take care of your needs, you decided to leave things for another day, afraid you’d think of him again if you continued. You quickly finish up your shower, stepping out and thoroughly toweling yourself off before walking over to the sink and reaching for the hair dryer. As you run one hand through your hair while you dry it with the other, you think hard about the implication of those thoughts. It was totally normal, you just thought of him because of his body, right? You blushed again as you wondered if he’d ever had these kinds of thoughts about you, quickly shaking the offending idea from your mind.

After your hair and fur are sufficiently dry, you make your way to your bedroom, eager to get some rest to forget about the entire ordeal. You step into the small walk in closet, rummaging through the piles of clothes as you try to find some sleepwear that isn’t too uncomfortable or dirty. A few more minutes of searching yielding nothing you feel comfortable wearing, you decide to sleep in the buff instead. You crawl into your freshly made bed, draping the navy blue sheets over your nude body, and lie face up as your head sinks into your pillow. In an attempt to drift off to sleep you shut your eyes tight, trying to think of anything but what happened earlier in the night. You instead choose to think of the quality time you spent with Anon today, smiling as you think back to the lunch you’d shared together. It was a relief to know he didn’t hold a grudge for the things you’d done to him, accepting your apology without much thought. You continue thinking about the rest of the day you’d enjoyed together, how he patiently taught you how to change the oil on his car, not getting upset at any mistakes or troubles you had with the process. It was a quality of his that you respected, knowing your temper could have a particularly short fuse at times. You’d made good on your promise to stop being so abrasive and apprehensive around him in your mind. The entire day felt just as enjoyable as the day you’d spent together at the mall the night before. One particular moment of the day stood out in your mind, particularly the way he’d hugged you tight to his chest when you said your goodbyes. Was it weird that you were still thinking about it? It wasn’t weird that it felt so nice to be held like that, even if it was just a friendly hug, right?

“Yeah... it just feels nice, and...” you say, reaching for another pillow to place between your legs as you continued to think up excuses. “Fuck...”

That tired feeling begins to creep into your mind. You hug your pillow and your eyelids flutter as they grow heavier by the second. You think about what it’d be like to have that same arm wrapped around you in this moment, thinking back to the sensation of his hug once more. The fact that you’re laying in bed alone suddenly sinks in, your ears drooping as a frown begins to form on your face. You hug the pillow even tighter to your chest as you continue to imagine having him by your side, fighting the urge to tear up from how pathetic you feel right now. Focusing on the comforting thoughts of the time you spent with Anon today, the urge to cry is slowly pushed away, finally giving you just enough peace of mind for the intoxicating warmth of the bed to lull you to sleep.

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Pub: 22 Feb 2021 06:11 UTC
Edit: 24 Jul 2021 21:03 UTC
Views: 1566